#i will take another one before ill arrive at university

[hanabeeri]

holding a presentation in japanese today i'm so nervous 🥹

[1for5]

yes im changing

paige bueckers x reader

(paige x uconn psychology student!reader)

synopsis: with y/n being in a new environment, still facing rejection, how can she bounce back?

masterlist

chap 4

y/n pov:

okay scratch that. i would have to do all athletes. okay new research:

a comparative research on the academic resilience of students and students part of the basketball team in the university of connecticut.

much better. i can have more focus on the people in my research. and plus, the basketball teams are the most known in uconn, which could make them have different perspectives. but first.. i would have to ask their coach first. i may ask aubrey if she can bring me to their coach, his name is coach geno..?

after their training (and an hour of peyton giggling), i went up to aubrey and told her about my research.

“yeah! i could definitely ask coach geno, he’s in the other room though to get his stuff, but he’ll come back soon” aubrey replied with enthusiasm. “thats great! thanks aubrey. i would also have to ask the men’s basketball coach, but ill check tomorrow since its already late” i mentioned. aubrey and i got to talk a little bit more, aubrey asking me why i was even in their training the first place.

i said that peyton’s crush is in the team, which made aubrey laugh. when we both looked behind to peyton, we see her talking to azzi. smooth ass..

coach geno finally got out of the other room, and aubrey introduced me to him.

“oh coach! this is y/n, and she has a small favor to ask” aubrey says. “hello coach geno! i am a freshman taking psychology, and i wanted to ask if i could have your team to be part of my research” i smiled.

“what’s it about?”

“their resistancy in regards to their school work sir”

“will it hinder their skills?”

“no sir”

“how long will this take?”

“maximum of a month i believe, but it still depends”

“as long as the team says yes and it wont be a distraction, then im all for it. goodluck y/n, and welcome to uconn!” coach geno replied with a small smile. “thank you sir! it means a lot” i smiled back.

i went back to peyton, who was talking to azzi, and introduced me to her. azzi then introduced me to the other players— to nika, kk, paige, and caroline. i guess i still needed a formal greeting even with the event that happened yesterday.

i then proceeded to ask the whole team about my research idea, and they were all willing to help me. just needed to contact the men’s basketball team now.

after small talks, we all headed back to our dorms. i feel better with the team already, they’re all quite playful, just have to ignore that one blonde, paige. we haven’t talked a word to each other, and i won’t mind if we don’t talk at all.

when we arrived to the dorms area, we all bid our goodbyes to some of the members and the others headed to the same dorm building as me. turns out that everyone that has the same dorm as me lives on the same floor as me.. this will be fun. my “floormates” are nika, ashlynn, ice, kk, and paige. azzi along with caroline and the others were at another dorm building.

we all bid our goodnights, and aubrey and i went inside our dorm. we both were too tired, and got unready and head to our beds quick.

“goodnight y/n!”

“goodnight aubs”

the next week

the last days were great. men’s basketball team is on board with my research, and my introduction and rrl is surprisingly done.

today, i will start to interview the women’s basketball team, and i am thinking of doing observations with them as well— like having group study sessions and know their behavior and thoughts.

its now 2pm, two hours before the team’s training, which gives me enough time to interview some people. i text aubrey saying that im near their court, and was asking who i can interview first.

aubrey: paige is free

goddamn it.

oh well, let’s just get this over with. i open the court’s entrance, the team seeing me and greeting me.

“so, who can go first?” i ask the team, i really didn’t want paige, she will just give me negative energy for the rest of the day. she is always so.. negative towards me.

“i dont think we can.. coach wants us to do 25 laps as penalty! but since paige wasn’t there when the team was goofing around.. she’s free” azzi explained. “what did you guys even do that made coach geno be in fumes?” i asked.

“teased coach about paige dating on of his children.. they’re our age though” aubrey steps in. “oh id send you guys to 25 laps as well” i joked. “whatever!” azzi says.

i told paige to come with me the the bleachers, still being nonchalant.

“so where do we begin..” i hummed. i could feel that paige felt awkward

“name?” i started.

“paige bueckers”

“year?”

“im a junior”

she’s 2 years older than me.

“current gpa?”

“3.9”

not bad.

“workloard in school?”

“atleast 5 worksheets and 2 tests per week”

“can you finish them on time?”

“depends”

“what’s your hardest subject?”

“chemistry”

“favorite subject?”

“anatomy”

“okay that’s all for now. we still have more interviews in the future, and a possible group study session with the others. thank you!” i tell paige.

“thanks” paige coldly replies.

after an interview with aubrey, azzi, and the others, i wrapped it up, just in time for them to do their own preps before training. i was looking for a water dispenser as i was thirsty. i passed by the locker room and heard a voice.

“what is she even doing here? can’t she do her studies somewhere else? we don’t need her bro” the voice stated, which i think was pertaining to me.

“paige, just be kind. its a freshman’s research, you know how tough some professors are with the freshmans, they would have to give their best” another voice replied back.

“whatever, let’s just get to practice” paige scoffs. i rolled by eyes and realized that it was my signal to go, i didn’t want them to see me. i quickly got my water and got out of the court, thanking coach geno and the other members who were just sitting on the bleachers.

as i walk, i start to feel discouraged. i just want to do what’s best for me, and a person who doesn’t know me just talks bad about what im doing. i guess i just have to suck it up, i have no time for negativity anyways. just focus on being able to transfer to stanford.

uconn, your star is not-so shining to me.

- zo’s notes: hello, i hope everyone is enjoying reading my fic :)

[pinkaditty]

Who's Passing NNN? Tokyo Debunker Pt 3

cliche yeaaa i know we've already discussed this... let me have this...

a/n: no post last night bc last night was U.S. election night. in no uncertain terms i've been going through emotional turmoil as a disabled queer african american living in this hellhole. idk man. im holding out hope that ill make it through the next four years. in the meantime! enjoy this! quick disclaimer that i write these under the assumption the tokyo debunker boys are at least 18 years old. they appear to be present at a university considering there are professors and a chancellor. not to mention the boys drink, smoke, gamble, and refer to themselves as adults.

summary: part 3 of the "Who's Passing NNN?" tokyo debunker thing. for fun id like u 2 guess before u open the rest of the post and comment what u thought. itd be funny 2 me. cw: men jacking off!!!!!!!! MINORS DNI AS USUAL!!!! these things r never proofread i literally spit them out and they're good 2 go.

Frostheim || Vagastrom || Jabberwock || Sinostra || Hotarubi || Obscuary || Mortkranken

(nearly done with sinostra n hotarubi is otw!)

Please respect my boundary. Thank you!

Jabberwock:

Haru Sagara: Fail

Lovingly, he fails. He does not even try for long. He tries a little bit, but the second he gets the itch, it’s all over… If, he can finish his chores first, at least. 

It's a long walk back to Jabberwock from Obscuary. Not that Haru minds, it's just a long walk. It’s dark out, nearly 1am. It wasn’t like him to be out too terribly late, but he trusted Towa had a handle on things, and he was content to relax for a while. The waning crescent moon and sidewalk lamplights illuminate his way home. The stiff, still, crisp and cool night air felt strange against his warm cheeks and neck. He sighs, and his breath is visible in the air, signifying how cold it was.

Usually he’d be speeding home, but he’d drank far too much to be able to do that. The anomalous drinks still left a cloudy, pleasant feeling in his head, though he was still able to walk fine without any stumbling. There was a problem, though. A slight stirring in his abdomen that just wouldn’t go away. It started long before his drinking though, mid-chores. He’d been easily able to tamp if down then, a swath of chores taking up his time and distractions from his dormmates serving him well. But now, he was drunk. His defenses against such sensations has lowered drastically. Each gentle twitch at his pelvic floor sent a surge of feeling through him, to which he’d visibly stiffen and bite his tongue to prevent any damning noises. He could feel his body stir with more heat than before, the warmth snaking down his spine, creeping to the rest of his body, very quickly reaching his already half-hard cock. The walk became pure torture, each stride beginning to feel like a gentle stroke against his hardening length. The building pleasure goes straight to his brain, and he has to stop his stride, panting, supporting himself with his hands on his knees. He feels himself flush at the sight of his cock pressing hard into his pant leg. He straightens his posture and continues on, worrying his lip between his teeth until they turn red.

It’s a long walk back to Jabberwock from Obscuary. He picks up the pace.

Towa Otonashi: Pass

He tries and gets through! He’s mostly obsessed with romance anyway. Physical intimacy typically takes a backseat. Does that mean he doesn’t want romance to blossom into physical intimacy? No, of course not. If anything, he values the buildup.

It’s late, and no classes tomorrow. Towa’s taken up the liberty of watching a movie in his room, one known for being particularly cheesy, with romance bursting at the seams of it. He’s enjoying himself, leaning forward on the bed as he hungrily watches each scene, drinking in the classic love-at-first-sight trope, waiting eagerly for the miraculous buildup.

As expected, the buildup arrives, and the two main characters finally confess to one another. He sighs happily as the characters kiss, leaning back and propping himself up with his hands, ready for the credits to roll. He is surprised, however, when the scene continues to escalate past just kissing. He waits for it to stop, simultaneously mystified and mesmerized, his eyes glued to the screen as the characters move from kissing to groping to undressing. His heart rises to his throat. His breathing picks up and his face becomes flushed. He still doesn’t stop watching, even as he feels his cock stir in response to the scene. He continues watching with baited breath as the scene continues to escalate further. Undressing turns to nude groping and nude groping elicits intense noises from the screen. He feels his cock harden further, and feels himself hesitantly reaching for it, his gaze flicking between the sex scene and his aching cock trapped in his uniform slacks. Before he knows it, he’s covering his mouth with one hand and rubbing his cock at a furious pace, in tandem with the gentle plap plap plap sounds coming from the screen. The sex is so passionate, so romantic, and he finds himself wishing for something similar. It is when the couple’s lips meet at the climax that he climaxes, spilling himself between his fingers and onto the plush sheets of his bed. He trembles, blinking blearily as he surveys his mess, and watching as the couple embrace one another, the love between them palpable. 

Ren Shiranami: Fail

He didn’t try and he wasn’t going to. I mean come on now! This is Ren we’re talking about. He is not holding his own… Not unless it’s ramen or video games, that is.

His sweaty hair sticks to his even sweatier forehead. His eyes are wide and glued to his PC screen. His posture is hunched, his teeth are grinding, and his legs are taut. He cannot lose this game. He continues to repeat that in his head, desperately trying to focus his attention to the buttons underneath his fingers rather than the burning need his stiffened length presented. He cannot lose this game. He cannot lose this game. He cannot lose this game. The second stage of the battle was not going to catch him off-guard this time. Not this time. 

He leans towards the screen, steeling himself after defeating the first-form boss. His cock continues to press eagerly against his sweatpants as though begging for attention, but he willed himself to ignore it, even as the hem of his underwear brushing along his tip threatened to make him lose his composure. 

Finally, the next scene starts. He’s ready, dodging as many attacks as he can and dealing as much damage as possible. At long last, he’s so close, just a few blows away from victory. He’s so close. He feels his cock jump in response to those thoughts, and the fleeting thought of being close to bursting flashes across his mind before he shakes his head harshly and returns to his game. His cock jumps again just as he lands a blow, his tip once again pressing into the hem of his underwear. He cannot continue while ignoring the insistent press. He growls, displeased, and reaches down for a quick readjustment, his hands only leaving the buttons for a moment. Once adjusted, he suppresses a gasp at the feeling and returns his hands to the buttons. Too late. The boss took advantage of his momentary stillness and sliced him in half, prompting the “GAME OVER” screen. 

Ren angrily shoves the controller away from him and buries his head in his hands, peeking down at his twitching cock forming a tent in his sweatpants. 

a/n: i love fictional men suffering!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i imagined ren playing elden ring 4 reference (specifically battling malenia) but ur free 2 imagine whatever lol!

note that, as always, i enjoy likes, comments, and reblogs!! please tell me how much you enjoyed my work! it really means a lot!

ALSO WOOOOO HIT 500 FOLLOWERS! if ur reading this, slide in2 my asks with a prompt idea (please don't expect a response!). i want 2 write some juicy porn with whoever comes 2 mind.

final note that i purposely extended haru's part bc @/aayakashii was looking forward 2 it and i thought her tags were so funny lmfao

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-three

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 5.1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: yayyyy s3 is here!! this has SO much potential and there is so much i want to do with this from here but i believe this will be the last season!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

You had the train car all to yourselves. Few peacekeepers were allowed to leave in the wake of the murders, and for that you were thankful. You were able to let Tybalt out to explore the car, but he mostly stayed on your lap.

You felt guilty about taking him, you didn't even want to ask until your mother insisted, and Coryo wouldn't deny you bringing him. You thought about maybe taking him to a vet when you arrived. There were hardly any in Twelve, none of which made time for domestic animals that weren't livestock of some kind. You had to assume that in the Capitol that was a completely different story, so maybe this would be good for him.

It was dark by now, and Coryo was fast asleep on the bench next to you, head pressed to the window. You suspect he hadn't slept at all the night before.

"Sejanus." You whisper. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah." He replies quietly, sitting across from you at the small table.

"Are you okay?" Your question is met with a few beats of silence.

"I was meant to go with them." He whispers. "I didn't want to go back there."

"The Capitol?" You ask. "Why not?"

"It's not my home." He answers simply. You can hardly see his face in the dark, but you can tell he's sad. Grieving the life he could have had.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Sejanus?" You whisper, leaning forward to try and see him.

"Hm?"

"Was Lennox going too?"

"No." You can see the shadow of him shaking his head in the dark. "He was only going to bring some supplies for us out to the cabin at the lake and leave them for us to pick up on our way."

You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. He couldn't have left. You knew you couldn't bear it- and your parents would not cope well losing another child. You thought he wouldn't do that, but you weren't confident enough to say for certain. You'd much rather have a rebel for a brother than never see him again. Though, to you, helping friends was hardly an act of rebellion.

"What... what are you going to take?" You ask, hoping to change the topic. It was nice to have him talking again. "At the university, I mean."

"Medicine. I'd like to be a doctor, I think. I want to help people, maybe out in the Districts."

"Of course." You grin. "That's so like you. Your patients will be very lucky people."

"It'll never be enough." He shakes his head and you frown. "I can't help everyone. And everyone outside the Capitol needs it so bad. Did you know my father is the head of munitions in District Two? I'll never be able to make up for the pain my name has caused. Never."

"Well..." You look down at the cat curled up next to you. "You saved Tybs. I can't even tell you how much that means to me. Everything you do will mean so much to people. Even if it's just one person, I think that is more than enough. To try is more than enough."

You see the ghost of a smile twitch on his lips. "Thanks, Y/N. You're gonna do good things, too."

"How unhappy is he who cannot forgive himself."

Sejanus sighs. "Extremely."

A few hours later, it was your turn to sleep. At least, to try. It was hard to get comfortable, curled up on one of the benches with a bag of your clothes as a pillow and Tybalt insisting on sleeping on top of you.

You were just drifting off, you could hardly keep your eyes open, when quickly a nightmare jolts you awake. Bang! The sound of a gunshot- in your dream state you know it's the bullet that found a home in Cole Harlem. The next 'bang' was the sound of your head hitting the table next to you when you shoot back up, unintentionally scaring your cat off of your side.

You hiss, placing a hand on the side of your head and rubbing it through the pain. "Ow..."

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You hear Coryo ask quietly, followed by footsteps across the centre aisle of the train car.

"Mhm." You hum, trying to squint to see him in the poor lighting. It must be almost morning- there's a blue wash beginning to paint over everything onboard, including his form as he's crouched down next to you.

"Let me see..." He says softly, hands already lifted ready to touch you. To see if he can help.

You move a little closer, dropping your hand so he can gently cradle your face in his larger ones, using a finger to turn your head to the side as he examines the bump on your temple.

It's impossible for him to see in this lighting, but if there was blood he would be able to tell. "Just a bump." He whispers. "You'll be alright."

You just nod slightly under his grip, eyes searching for his in the dark. Neither of you want to move. Being this close to you, having you come home with him is a gift he wouldn't dare miss by blinking too slowly or letting his hold on you drift.

"Nightmare?" He asks quietly and you just nod again. Without a word, you're moving back on the bench to the window and he is sliding into the spot next to you. "Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep?"

"No." You answer softly, giving a slight shake of your head.

"Can I ask what it was about?" He asks. "Tigris always told me talking about it helps."

You chew your lip, looking away from him and down at the empty table. "Cole."

Coryo tenses next to you, his jaw clicking from the small movement. "I... I am sorry." He doesn't know what to say besides that- and he feels like telling you that dirtbag deserved it would do little to help the situation.

"Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper, voice mostly steady.

He nods, watching you expectantly. You take a deep breath. "I'm glad he's dead."

You must be a changed woman. It was hardly like you to say something like that- let alone feel it, but keeping it in would just keep you up at night. Coryo wouldn't hate you for it, you're sure.

He looks at you, head tilted while he confirms with himself that you did, in fact, just say the words he heard. You were the most gentle soul in Panem, he was sure, so what on earth could he have done to you to make you say something like that? Now he was more sure than ever that he did deserve it. "What did he do to you?" His gaze softens as it finds yours, and you slightly shake your head.

"It's... kind of a long story." You whisper.

"I have all the time in the world for you."

He sees the ghost of a smile tug at your lips, and you look down at your lap to process your thoughts. "He just... doesn't, didn't know how to take no for an answer." You try to explain it briefly, but the way Coryo's eyes widen makes you backtrack. "I mean, no. I'm sorry. He didn't hurt me. Well, he did, but not in the way that that sounded like." You take a deep breath. "He asked me if I would like to go on a date with him, and I said no, thank you, because I knew him and I knew he had a temper and I didn't think we would work. So, he would wait outside my school and follow me home everyday. He kept asking, I kept saying no, but he didn't listen. It only made him more mad."

It was a rare occasion that you felt so numb talking about someone who had died. "Then, about three months before the games, I guess he couldn't take the rejection anymore and he dragged me away and... I don't know how to describe it... beat me up. I suppose." You laugh dryly, only noticeable to Coryo because he was watching. "Lennox found us, really got into it with him and then had to literally carry me home with his own black eye and bleeding nose."

He nods slightly in understanding, holding himself together from throwing a fist through the window. He was right. That piece of human garbage did deserve it. Now he had every right to be glad he was dead, and so do you. It makes sense to him now, of course you'd only be pleased with a murder if it was someone who had hurt your brother- the fact that he had hurt you the way he did had nothing to do with it.

"You have every right to be happy." He tells you. "Shit, to be honest now I'm wishing I shot him myself."

"Coryo..." You sigh, frowning at him.

"Too far?" He laughs, and you can't help but join him.

"Yes!"

"'Kay, sorry, love. I'll keep it to myself." He raises his hands defensively, cocking his head to the side.

You're quiet for a moment. It's torturous for you both. "He's the reason I went in after you." Your voice is lowered now, noticeably. "He said that I had to go out on that date with him after you left, otherwise I shouldn't be shocked if my Pa ends up executed for treason."

Coryo swallows, staring at you in absolute shock. It just kept getting worse.

"I was terrified, I didn't know what to do, I couldn't be alone anymore. You would have left the next morning and I would have been with him. And I knew he wouldn't have let me talk to you ever again, and I was so scared you would hate me and you'd never know that I didn't have a choice."

"I could never hate you." He says, taking the calculated risk of reaching out to touch your hair, rolling the ends of the soft strands between his fingers. "It'd break my heart, but I wouldn't hate you."

"That's almost worse." You laugh quietly, eyes locked on his hand at your side.

"I'm glad you're coming with us. I don't know how I could live without you." He glances down at your lips, only a shadow in the dark as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Morning without you is a dwindled dawn." You agree, and that's all he can handle before he has to kiss you again.

He's so gentle when he holds your jaw in his hand and presses his lips to yours that you aren't sure if there really was a static shock that accompanied it or if that was just your body reacting to his skin on your own.

"I love you, Y/N/N." You almost swallow his words, smiling against his lips. "You know that, right?"

"I love you too, Coryo."

You tried to get as much sleep as possible over the two day ride, waking when the sun rises and you could feel the heat on your skin. You could see the tall buildings that made up the city in the distance.

People say that a ride back always feels faster, because you're familiar with the path; that your mind chooses to forget the uneventful sections. You believe it. The ride home had felt like it took an eternity, but this time it felt too fast. You were nervous; scared, more than excited. Even though this is supposed to be a good thing.

If Coryo had just asked if you would like to go with him, what would you have said? No matter how many hours you put into the question, you really don't know. Not until Cole threatened your family, anyways. You would have had to turn him down, then. Regardless, you were never given the privilege of a choice.

This isn't about him. You have to remind yourself. This is about saving your family, in more ways than one.

Maybe it really was a good thing that Cole was shot. You curse yourself for even thinking such a thing, but with him alive the only possible outcome was him having your father killed. You could only be the perfect girlfriend for so long- you knew him, one mistake from you and he would make true on his word. Then you would have to marry him in order to have another income. Your winnings from the games would only take you so far on your own.

You're not sure if it's the swaying of the train that's really making you sick.

You would get your answer an hour later when your train crossed the bridge over the river, and the Capitol was in full, glorious view.

You could physically feel the blood draining from your face as you stare out the window, unable to look away. You looked like a deer in headlights.

"Y/N/N?" Coryo hums, placing a hand on your leg. "You okay?"

You nod slightly, but you're hardly processing what's happening around you.

He frowns, leaning forward to be able to get a closer look at your face. You look like you're about to vomit or faint or both. "Look." He smiles, patting your leg and pointing out the window. "That tall building there, you see it?" You nod slowly, watching where he's pointing. "Up on the top floor there's a restaurant with big floor to ceiling windows that overlook the river and the mountains. It's beautiful." He's never been there, but he's heard it's incredible.

"And over there, that smaller, longer building is a mall." He tells you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and sliding closer as you continue to follow his hand. "On the outside there's this ice cream shop that makes the most amazing flavours. Literally anything you can imagine." He chuckles slightly. "I'll take you there."

You smile slightly, and the colour begins to return to your face with a slight rosiness in your cheeks.

"After the tunnel we'll pass the university." He grins. "It's a really nice campus, you'll love it there. They have a massive library."

You close your eyes as the train plunges into the darkness of the tunnel, nodding slightly.

"What would you like to do? We can go anywhere."

"I... today I'd just like to go home." You answer quietly.

"Of course, love. But another day, sometime in the future."

You think for a moment. "Is there a vet here?" You ask and he nods.

"I'd like to take Tybs to get looked at. He's not sick, or anything... but he's never been to the vet before so I'd just like to make sure he's in good health." You explain.

"Yeah, we can definitely do that." Coryo agrees. "And there's this bookstore that's three stories tall, you'll love it." He adds.

"Can I meet your cousin?"

"Yes, love. Of course. She'll live with us, you'll be the best of friends." Coryo explains, squeezing your shoulder. He hadn't yet considered you meeting his family, he didn't even have the chance to tell them you were coming. It would be fine, he knew that. They had the room and the funds to support another person now, that wasn't even a question. Tigris had been dying to meet you, wanting to know every detail about you before the games and especially in his phone calls home while he was in Twelve.

He realized suddenly that maybe he should be worried about his Grandma'am. He knew she had a prejudice against people in the Districts, she had voiced as much during his mentorship. She had even influenced a similar attitude in him his whole life- but you were different. You weren't like them, and she would have to learn that, but that didn't make him any less nervous about what she might say to you until then.

"I'm excited." You tell him, forcing yourself to only think about the good things to come.

Your hands are shaking as you pull into the station. You can already see it's a different one than you were pulled from last time, the first place you met Coryo. You grab your bags, holding the one containing Tybalt close to your chest as the door opens and you walk out. He wasn't too fond of getting back inside after having the freedom of roaming the train car, but you were grateful he was not a very temperamental cat.

Mostly, the station was deserted. There were a few peacekeepers here and there, but you still felt as though all eyes were on you.

You didn't notice when your friends were greeted by their waiting family members, still looking around and processing your surroundings.

"Y/N/N?" Coryo's voice brings you back to reality, and you realize you hadn't taken a single step away from the train yet. "Come here."

You smile as you walk over, eyeing who you assume to be his cousin.

"Hello, there." You grin, giving a slight wave but still holding tightly onto your cat.

"Y/N." Tigris smiles, her blonde hair draped over her shoulders in meticulously styled curls. "It's so amazing to meet you! I'm Tigris, Coryo's cousin."

"Yes, you as well." You nod, trying to mask your nervousness with a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm amazing, I am just so pleased you're here. What a great surprise!" She claps, and you take in her outfit. You've never seen such fine materials, outside maybe the silk scarf Coryo gave you that is now tucked in the old suitcase sitting next to his feet. You wonder if she made the clothes she was wearing, remembering he said she was a designer.

"Coryo has told me so much about you. I've been excited to meet you."

"I really wanted to come see you before the games but I couldn't get away from work, I'm so sorry this is the first time we're meeting." She says and you swallow, nodding slightly in response. "Will you be staying with us?"

"If... if that's okay." You say, looking to Coryo who nods.

"Of course that's okay." He answers on her behalf, but she nods in agreement.

"Yes, you're always welcome. We're so happy to have you."

"Thank you." You breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"We should get going, yeah?" Tigris says and you nod, adjusting your hold on the bag in your arms.

They start to walk, already talking about all the excitement of the trip when you get a tap on your shoulder. You jump slightly, turning and pulling your bag closer to your chest.

"Sorry, dear. I didn't mean to startle you." The woman smiling sadly at you must be Sejanus's Ma. He's standing with her, so it was the only assumption you could make.

"It's okay." You reply quietly, smiling at her politely.

"Y/N, this is my Ma." Sejanus introduces you, confirming your suspicions.

"Nice to meet you." You smile, and she brings her hands up to place on your shoulders, gently rubbing them.

"It's so good to meet you, dear." You feel so greatly comforted by her already. "Sejanus told me you would be staying for a while."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You call me Ma." She quickly corrects you, and you match her smile. You could cry- the burning behind your eyes is telling you that you just might. "We know damn well how hard this transition is, so if you need anything at all at any time, you call us. Okay? We'll help you however we can. With anything."

You smile at them, tears filling your eyes. "Thank you." You sniff, and she pulls you into a hug.

Graciously, and awkwardly with Tybalt still between you, you accept. You never want her to let go.

"Of course, dear. You'll always have a home away from home with us if you need it."

"I can no other answer make, but thanks, and thanks." You say, tears flowing now. You never seem to stop crying- but for the first time in a long time, it was from real happiness.

"Twelfth Night." Ma says as she pulls away, still holding your arms.

You laugh slightly, biting into your bottom lip and nodding. "Yes! You've read it?"

"I brushed up after Coriolanus came around asking for Romeo and Juliet." Ma shrugs, letting you go and letting Sejanus give you a hug as well.

"Coryo has our number. Call anytime, I mean it." He tells you and you nod against his shoulder. "But I'll see you soon, okay? We'll hangout all the time."

"All the time." You agree as he lets you go. "I don't want to keep them waiting, so..."

"Yes, of course. It was so good to meet you." Ma smiles.

"You as well, Ma. I'll see you soon I am certain." You wave goodbye and catch up to Coryo and Tigris, who stopped just a little ways away to wait for you. "Sorry..."

Tigris wipes the worried expression off her face. Coryo probably just had to explain why you were there. "Don't worry about it! Ready to go?"

"Yes." You grin, quickly wiping your eyes. "Lead the way."

There are so many things that you hadn't considered on the train ride. Such as, where was the nearest post office? Or how is Tybs going to handle being indoors constantly? You'll have to get him a litter box- you've never had one before since he was mostly an outdoor cat, and would he need toys now that there probably wouldn't be mice or birds for him to hunt?

Also, there was the immediately obvious fact that the stares you were getting were endless. People even stopped you asking for pictures on the way back- Coryo had to tell them no. Several times. It wasn't any longer than a twenty minute walk.

Everyone seemed so excited to see you, to talk to you. Or, talk at you, rather. It was uncomfortable, but it was so different than what you were used to at home. Especially after the games, people tended to literally cross the street to avoid talking to you. Here, it was the opposite. You were some kind of celebrity. You knew Capitol people liked the games, but you didn't know it was like this. You tried to be polite, but being celebrated for something so awful is hard to swallow. You almost preferred the shame that came with being avoided.

"Is it normally like that?" You ask quietly as you walk into the lobby of a tall building, the floors and pillars lined with white marble. You had never seen anything like it.

"I'm not sure." Coryo answers honestly. "You are the first Victor to ever come back, but like I said, people loved you. Thousands of people watched just for you. That's why I won the Plinth Prize- you boosted the viewership beyond what's ever been seen before."

"Oh." You answer simply, following them into a set of silver sliding doors in the wall.

"When we get up I'll make you something to eat, you guys must be starving." Tigris says as the mechanical doors slide shut again, and you tilt your head.

"Uhm... I-" Your question is halted by a steady shake of the small room you're in, and it feels like you're moving.

Coryo looks over at you and your wide eyes, furrowing his brow. "What's wrong?"

"Are we moving?" You ask, looking around. You're surrounded by mirrors, only seeing endless reflections of the three of you.

Tigris covers her mouth to hide her smile, and Coryo laughs. "Yes, love." The two of them look at each other briefly. "This is an elevator, in a second the doors will open and we'll be at our apartment."

"Oh, wow." You laugh slightly, in a small amount of shock.

"I didn't even think that you might not know what it is, I'm sorry." Coryo chuckles, gently rubbing circles onto your back as the doors slide open again and just like he told you, you were somewhere new.

"That's okay, I just have a lot to learn apparently." You giggle, shaking your head as you step out of the so-called "elevator". You look back inside it as the doors slide shut. "So, how does it work?"

"Honestly, I am not entirely sure of the mechanics of it but there's a motor up top, and when you press that button it lifts to you and then lowers to where you want to go." He explains as Tigris pulls out her key to unlock the door. "It didn't work for over ten years, so it's kind of new to me too."

He's trying to make you feel less embarrassed, and that makes you smile at him. "I see. That's neat."

"It is, isn't it?" Coryo grins. He was in absolute awe of you everyday, but now that he's realized that there are so many things you don't know, even as the smartest person he's ever met, and that he wants to show you absolutely everything. Had you even tried ice cream before? What else would be new to you? There were certainly no cars besides peacekeeper trucks in Twelve, not that he had seen anyways, so it must have been jarring for you to see civilian vehicles on the walk back. He should have asked.

As adorable that it was that there were things you had never seen before, it almost worried him in a way he hadn't considered before. You would need him around a lot- not that he minded one bit. He had liked that about the games, he knew where you were while you were caged up at the zoo and he could leave and come back with the comfort of knowing you would be there waiting for him.

His thoughts are interrupted when Tigris gets the door open, shouting for their grandma'am. He takes a deep breath, smiling as he holds the door for you. It is good to be home.

"We have company!" Tigris calls out as you walk in, and you look around focussed on keeping your mouth shut as not to physically gawk at their home. Their apartment was beautiful, with a somewhat open concept and halls that spun off in all directions from the main foyer.

"Oh, lovely! We haven't had company in ages. You should get the tea on, dear." You hear his grandmothers voice before you see her, sparing a glance at Coryo. If he's nervous, he doesn't look it.

She looks like the sweetest old lady, her white hair matching the shade of her silk robe and slippers. "Oh, Coryo!" She smiles, heading straight to him and giving him a hug. "How we have missed you..."

"I missed you too, grandma'am." He sighs, gentle as he hugs her back. When he lets her go, it seems like she has noticed you for the first time.

The excited smile on her face fades instantaneously as she looks you up and down. "Who's this?"

"This is Y/N. You remember I told you about her, right?"

"I do." She nods, a sour look on her face as she stares at you.

"Hello, you must be Coriolanus's grandmother, it is so lovely to finally meet you." You smile, readjusting your bag so you can hold it in one arm in order to extend your hand to her to shake. She doesn't take it. "You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Snow." You continue when she doesn't answer you, holding your smile and trying not to seem terrified. It was like the lead-up to the games all over again.

"What's in her bag?" She asks Coryo when she sees it move, ignoring you altogether as you awkwardly drop your hand.

"That's Tybalt, her cat. He's the softest thing, you'll love him." He smiles, an apologetic look in his eyes as he glances over at you. This is exactly what he was afraid of.

"A cat?" His grandmother gasps, taking a step back with a hand to her chest. For a moment, you were scared she was about to have a heart attack.

"Grandma'am, you love cats!" Tigris says, stepping back in from the kitchen with a kettle in hand. "Y/N, come join us in the sitting room. I'm just getting some snacks together."

"Not feral ones!" She replies, appalled.

"Oh, he's not feral, Ma'am." You assure her. "Unless you're a mouse or a bird, he's the gentlest animal alive."

"Coriolanus Snow how dare you bring these... these strays into our home!" Now she's talking like you aren't even there, and you can't help but laugh nervously.

You look away, anywhere but at either of them. Maybe you would be calling Sejanus and his Ma for somewhere to stay by the end of the afternoon.

"They aren't strays." He defends you quickly, frowning. Okay, this was what he was afraid of.

"Here, come sit, Y/N." Tigris says quietly, placing the kettle back down and guiding you out of the room with hands on your shoulders. "I am so, so sorry." She whispers as you walk away.

"It's quite alright." You insist. "She didn't know I was coming, it was all so short notice. I completely understand." She didn't even know you were staying yet.

The sound of Coryo talking down his grandmother faded into muffled sounds as Tigris closes the door to what looks to be a bedroom. "No, no it's not right." Tigris frowns, shaking her head. "I don't want to make excuses for her but the war and the dark days were so hard on her, a lot of the blame was placed on the people from the Districts. She lost both her children and she never really came back from that."

"No, I do understand." You smile sadly. "I'm so sorry you and your family went through that. It must have been so difficult."

"The war was awful for everyone." Tigris shakes her head. "Please, don't apologize to us. No one came out of that unharmed."

"Do you mind if I let Tybalt out?" You ask, eager to change the subject.

"Please." Tigris grins, clearly just as relieved that you weren't horribly offended by their grandmothers behaviour. "I'm excited to meet him."

You smile, crouching down and opening up the carrier for him to hop out. He does so promptly, taking advantage of the opportunity.

"He's so cute!" Tigris squeaks, crouching down to pet him. He was a little jarred at first by new surroundings, but he quickly accepted them when she began petting him. "It'll be so nice to have a fluffy friend here."

"Thank you for being okay with me bringing him." You smile, taking the time to look around the room yourself. Everything looked hardly touched, all sparkly and new with corner windows lighting up the space beautifully.

"Our home is your home." She smiles, standing up again and Tybalt is quick to run over to you, rubbing up against your legs. "That applies to both of you. Grandma'am will come around."

"Thank you." You smile. "The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience."

When she smiles, you can see outside of the blonde hair how her and Coryo are related. "You truly are something else."

"Oh, I hope that's a good thing..." You laugh.

"Yes, absolutely." She laughs. "I'll go get that tea going again and get the guest room all set up for you. The bathroom is right across the hall if you need it, and Coryo will come get you when grandma'am has relaxed a bit."

"Thank you." You say again, watching your cat hop up onto the desk against the back wall.

She gives you a quick hug. "Welcome home." She says softly, shutting the door behind her as she leaves.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[starlightforests]

merlin fic recs

i have a bunch of fic rec threads on twitter so i thought about making them posts on here!

these are the soulmate/soul bond fics from my ao3 bookmarks & kudos:

Strike of Lightning by helloearthlings

Summary:

Uther's commandment was very simple: If there should come a day when Arthur met his soulmate, he would drive a sword through their chest and kill them on sight.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Relationship: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - SoulmatesSoulmates, Canon Era, Alternate Universe - Canon, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Magic Revealed

Bad Choice of Words in My Alibi by queerofthedagger

Summary:

One hot summer day and an ill-advised kiss leave Arthur with an incomplete soul bond, panic about all his secrets coming to light, and the question of why Merlin is so afraid of Uther. Actually, scratch that—why is Merlin afraid of him?

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Relationship: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Season/Series 02, Accidental Bonding, Soul Bond, Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), emrys reveal, Identity Reveal, Mutual Pining, Smitten Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots in Love, Getting Together, Mild Sexual Content, Quests, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't copy to another site

Everything Eventually Goes To Shit by PetrichorAndInk

Summary:

Merlin had often asked himself the same question over the years; how long would it take for everything to go to shit? Because there was so much that could go to shit.

His magic, for one, could be found out. Or, his friends could get dangerously hurt, Arthur could get into a kind of trouble that Merlin wouldn’t be able to rescue him from. And the worst? Arthur could find out about the giant red dragon that covered his chest, neck and shoulders, the same dragon that covered Arthur too, the mark that linked them in life and love; their soulmarks.

But Merlin has the worst luck, it’s already a miracle none of this has happened yet. But he speaks too soon because this all happens within the span of three days.

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: M/M Relationship: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Torture, Minor Injuries, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Soulmarks, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Love Confessions, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Worried Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Canon Era

my favorite mistake by muItifandomjess

2 work series

work 1: you are my favorite mistake (it can only be fate)

Summary:

When Merlin accidentally creates a mental link between himself and Arthur, they discover far more about each other than they could ever have imagined.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Relationship: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Additional Tags: Telepathy, Magic Revealed, Episode: s01e04 The Poisoned Chalice, Developing Relationship, Soul Bond

work 2: get lost and then get found

Summary:

A mysterious woman arrives in Camelot and Arthur soon falls under her spell. Can Merlin save him before it is too late?

Or, alternately: telepathy doesn’t make this any easier.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Relationship: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Additional Tags: Episode: s01e07 Gates of Avalon, Arthur Enchanted, Love Potion/Spell, Misunderstandings, Friendship/Love, Telepathy, Soul Bond, let operation save Morgana commence

[wosowrites]

Our Story (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️mentions of s3x⚠️

a/n: there will not be a part two too this story. Choose the ending you please. based off this request here

prompt: after jessie and reader broke up a few years back, jessie joins chelsea. the chelsea girls try to set them up, unaware of their history, but all that gets revealed during a game of truth or dare.

You met Jessie in 2017 at her first game for UCLA. You played for Stanford, and had been playing for them for two years now. Jessie scored a goal on her debut for UCLA, a screamer, and beat Stanford 1-0. Although annoyed, you were impressed, and a little star stuck buy the young canadian. One thing led to another, and you started dating. Long distance was hard, but man was Jessie worth it. You both lasted about a year and a half, and then things went down hill.

Your father got ill and you were balancing school, football and taking care of him, and it got too much. Breaking up with her broke your heart, but you knew it was right.

A month after your breakup, your father died.

You graduated university with a 3.9 GPA, 76 appearances for Stanford, and 46 goals. Dozens of clubs wanted you, they wanted you bad. But of course, one stuck out. Chelsea. You signed immediately, moved to London and started your life all over again over there. A month in, you were a regular started for Emma Hayes. You made connections at Chelsea, met the best people and made the best memories. But you missed Jessie, every day, you longed for her, and every day, you buried that longing and channeled it into football.

You were thriving, two years into your three year contract with Chelsea, you had 53 appearances and 27 goals. You had heard that there would be a new signing in the summer and you were excited. You loved helping the new players, you were a people pleaser and were naturally welcoming.

However, the day you were supposed to meet the new singing was a day you had a sponsorship signing with Nike so you arrived to training a few hours late.´ When you got there, it was a lift session. You walked into the gym, scanning the room for anyone new. No one.

"Where’s the new girl?" You asked Millie. "She’s talking with Emma in her office. You’ll never guess who it is," your national teammate said. "Why? We know her?" you asked, looking towards the door, waiting for her to walk in. "Hell yeah we do," Millie said, stretching the suspense. "Jesus, Mills! Just tell me!" you shrieked, the excitement too much. "Jessie Fleming."

You could have passed out. Your heart dropped, your face fell and your eyes widened. "No," you said sternly. "Uhm… yeah," Millie said, confused.

Your relationship with Jessie wasn’t exactly public. People knew but they didn’t know know. Your teammates didn’t ask questions as you weren’t out yet, they just didn’t talk to you about that kind of stuff. So it made sense that your national teammates didn’t know about Jessie. "She’s good too. She was a machine in training. Well, we know that. Played against Canada a couple of times." Millie said.

And then she walked in.

Her face as freckled as ever, her eyes as brown and furious as they were when you were both in university. And man… she looked good in blue. Your eyes locked with hers and she looked lost. There was no way she didn’t know you played for Chelsea, she must have done her research before coming here, right?

"Um. That’s- yeah. Good signing," you stuttered, looking back to Millie. "Yeah… spot me?" Millie asked.

You absentmindedly spotted the girl, knowing that if she did need the help you wouldn’t be able to get the bar, Millie was too strong and lifted too heavy.

Your eyes didn’t leave Jessie as Magda walked over to her, fulfilling her captains duties. "You’ll love it here. And you’ll love y/n. She’s great with the newcomers," Magda said to Jessie as they walked towards you. "Oh. I don’t want to bother her, she looks busy," Jessie said, stopping in her tracks. "Nah she’s good, I’m done my reps anyways," Millie said, sitting up and walking off.

You were standing as straight as a board, staring at Jessie. You were both blushing furiously and extremely uncomfortable. "She’s being weird today. Don’t worry she’s… more humanoid usually," Magda teased. "Haha Magdalena," you answered. "Hi, I’m y/n y/l/n."

You didn’t know why you had said that, why you had introduced yourself to her like that as though you hadn’t lost your virginity to her.

Jessie looked absolutely shocked, and maybe… a little hurt too. But she played along. She stuck her hand out and you shook hands. "Jessie Fleming."

You felt sick as you changed into your regular clothes. You felt even more sick as you were number 18, and Jessie would be right beside you as you both changed every day.

You were quick to shower and then put your clothes on, trying your very best to not think of the fact that you were still in love with the shirtless girl next to you.

You hurried out of the changing room, the first to be gone and when you got out, you leaned up against the wall and exhaled heavily. You hadn’t realized how much of a breath you had been holding.

You didn’t hear the door open again, and you didn’t see that someone was walking towards you as your eyes were closed. "Why did you do that?" A voice asked.

You jumped out of your skin, letting out a scream. "Fleming! Shit you scared me. Why did I do what?" you asked, a hand over your heart. "Why did you introduce yourself to me as though I haven’t seen you naked," Jessie said.

You didn’t remember her being this straightforward, but then again, two years can change someone completely. "Don’t say that. Just… Jessie no one can know we dated. We can’t be known as the exes on the team. I want you to do well here, and I know you will do well but i’m not casting a shadow over your opportunities by just… being a distraction," you said. "Okay. We don’t tell anyone," Jessie said.

"We don’t tell anyone."

One month later

Two first two weeks were extremely awkward, but after that, you settled in with each other. You and Jessie even started talking, laughing, and forgetting your past. It didn’t go unnoticed to the team how natural your connection with Jessie was. But they thought it was just they you were good together and not that you had years of history.

"So… you and Jessie are pretty cozy," Magda said as you sat beside her in the bus. Those words made Sam and Pernille, who were sitting in front of you, perk up. They both stood up and turned around to look at you both. "I noticed that too," Sam said. "Me too," Pernille added. "We’re not cozy. We’re friendly. Now shut up because she’s two rows in front of you and she has really good hearing. She’s also not wearing her airpods," you said, slouching in your seat. "And you know this because you’re extremely observant or because you’re obsessed with her?" Sam teased.

You stood up and pushed Sam’s shoulders down, making her laugh loudly and drawing attention. "Shut up, Samantha," you breathed in her ear. "Yes mom," she said, rolling her eyes. "You’re older than me!"

The Blues went out to dinner than night after beating Leceister 5-0. You got a reservation to a Mexican place you all really liked. "You’ll love it here, it’s really good," you said to Jessie. "You know how much I like Mexican food," Jessie says, your voices low.

You walked into the place, the owner sat you down herself. She knew you all well, having served you multiple times throughout the years. You ordered tacos and leaned into Jessie who was sitting beside you to tell her how good the fish tacos were here. "They’re not too spicy either. I know you’re not big on the spice," you said to her.

Your interaction caught the eyes of your teammates who smiled too each other. "So. Fleming. Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Single?" Erin asked. Jessie turned bright red and shrunk her head into her shoulders. "Guys!" you hissed to the ground. "No it’s okay. Uhm… single. But… I haven’t dated anyone since my university days." Jessie said.

You tensed in your seat, pushing your shoulders back and biting your cheek. You didn’t know if she meant you, or if she had dated someone else. "But we broke up about two years ago." She added.

So it was you she was talking about. A small smile spread on your face, happy she hasn’t dated anyone else. But you let it fall quickly, catching yourself and cursing yourself. "Why?" Guro asked. "Guro! Magda control your children," you said. "Hey, you can play mother cause I’m off duty," the swede said, raising her beer in cheers.

You sighed loudly.

"She… she was going through family things," Jessie said. "I was too much for her."

"No," you said, before you could stop yourself. Everyone looked at you. "I mean- don’t think that. Im sure she didn’t think you were too much. She was probably just… scared she wouldn’t give you the attention you deserved."

Jessie held eye contact with you, nodding gently. "Maybe. If you say so."

"How about you, y/n? Anyone special. Saw that you often talk to Batlle after we play Man U," Sophie asked you.

You have the girls a 'what are you up too?' look that they ignored. "Ona is a friend. She’s very nice but she’s… not someone I’m interested in," you said, avoiding eye contract with Jessie at all costs. "And who are you interested in?"

This time, Niahm was the one asking the question. She was sat next to you and you looked over at her. "I had a relationship a while back and I wasn’t a good girlfriend. I’m not interested in anyone."

Lie.

But no one questioned it as the food arrived and the hungry group focused on the amazing meal before them.

"Smooth," Jessie whispered in your ear, her breath tickling your neck.

You found yourself with your heart pounding, and your thighs squeezed together.

One week later

"You and Fleming. That’s our pitch."

Sam, Guro and Erin had ran up to you as you drank water after training. They had told you they had an idea.

"No." you said sternly, sitting down on the bench and taking off your shin pads. "Yes!! Please! Magda, Pernille, Millie and Aniek are talking to her about it right now. You would be so cute together, we’re begging you. Just go out on one date," Sam said.

"Guys…" you groaned, taking off your cleats and putting on your slides, your socks bunched at your ankles. "Why not? We have team bonding tonight but tomorrow… you guys could go… well I don’t know where you two nerds would want to go too but please," Guro said.

"No! Please- I. Listen. Jessie is…" you pursed your lips together, not knowing what to say. "Jessie is beautiful. And she’s smart and funny and cute but I’m not good for her. You need to drop it. And tell the other girls that too."

You stood up and walked inside to the locker rooms. Some of the girls who weren’t meddling in yours and Jessie’s possible relationship were changing. "Mills, meeting at your house at 6:00?" you asked the defender. "Yeah. See you there," Millie said.

She left the room and you followed suite a minute after. As you opened the door, Jessie and the group that had gone to talk to her we’re coming back. "You guys would be so-"

Aniek’s words got cut off as she saw you. You held your gaze with them for a second before shaking your head and walking away in the other direction.

You arrived at Millie’s late, cursing the fact that your car was so old and shitty. "I’m so sorry," you said to Magda as she opened the door. "But I brought wine and it’s good wine," you added, holding up the bottle. "Then all is forgiven," she said, hugging you gently. "Sorry about the Fleming ambush," she said as you both pulled away. "It’s all good," you said as you took off your jordan’s.

You guys walked into Millie’s oddly large living room. You took a seat on the floor, leaning against the couch, and Magda sat on the side of her girlfriends lap. "Okay while you were out doing god knows what-" Sam started saying. "My car broke down," you interrupted. "Didn’t ask," Sam said, making you and the room giggle. "As I was saying, when you weren’t here we each wrote two questions and two dares and put it in this horrifying hat-" Sam started to explain. "Hey! That’s my boyfriends hat," Millie pouted. "Yeah and it’s ugly. So. Point of the game is literally just truth or dare but every time you don’t want to do something you have to take a shot."

Sam showed you a bottle of tequila and waved in the direction of a few shot glasses. "Wait but I brought wine. It was like 30 pound wine," you said. "Why does it seem like you’re 30?" Guro teased as you scrunched your face at her.

"Whatever. Let’s start." You laughed.

20 minutes into the game, you had stayed relatively safe. You had gotten a dare card that made you have to ditch a piece of clothing, but you had a tank top under your hoodie anyways. Niahm had to sit on your lap for two rounds and you had been asked truths like 'biggest fear' and ‘player you secretly hate"

It was all fun. That is until it was your turn again.

You grabbed the hat, Niahm finally being able to get out of your lap. "Okay then…" you said, reaching into it and feeling around.

You pulled out a slip of paper and opened it dramatically. You read the words and then shook your head. "Nope. Give me the tequila," you said, reaching out for the bottle. "Wait! You have to tell us what it says first," Pernille said, trying to grab the paper. "Hey! Hands off!" you giggled, letting yourself fall backwards to get out of the blondes reach. You laid on your back as you read the words. "It says 'tell us the story of how you lost your virginity.' And I am not doing that."

You sat back up to the girls booing you. "Oh be mature!" you scowled, noticing Jessie blushing in the corner. "Ohhh I get it." Guro said, smiling to herself. "Get what?" you asked, your heart racing quicker than it should. "You’re a 25 year old virgin. It’s okay! No need to be embarrassed." Guro said, making the room laugh.

"I am not!" You said, trying to defend yourself. "Then prove it. Tell us the story." Erin said. "You know we’ve known you for forever and we barely know anything about you from your years before Chelsea," Pernille added.

You locked eyes with Jessie briefly, who nodded once. "Okay. Now before you guys judge me too harshly, let’s remember that I grew up in Milton Keynes and everybody was straight. Yes I knew Leah, yes I was deep in the closet till I was 22. And let’s also remember that I was solely focused of football. So I only lost my virginity when I went to university. I went to Stanford and played for the football team there. I met a girl… she played for UCLA and we started dating," you said, starting your story.

"Oh! Did Jessie know her?" Guro asked. "Let me finish my story!" you said to the Norwegian. "Anyways. As I said, we started dating. I was 19, turning 20 soon and she was 18. I was never big on hookups, I always wanted my first time to be special. So when I started dating the UCLA girl, and when I started falling in love with her, I knew I wanted to do it with her. Two months into our relationship, she came to Stanford and we had sex in my dorm room. And it was great although she did kick me in the face accidentally as I was taking her pants off," you said, laughing and smiling quickly at Jessie. "And that’s the story. It’s not very interesting," you said.

"Oh I think it’s very interesting," Magda said. Your gaze crossed hers and you looked at her, realizing immediately that she knew. "I-." you stuttered but she shook her head no. Magda did not meddle.

"Wait a second… oh my god," Niahm said. "Y/n… there was a team bonding you couldn’t come too because you were sick last month. We played this game and Jessie got that question. She said the exact same story but from the other persons perspective. She said that she dated an older Stanford girl and that she kicked her in the face during-"

"YOUR GIRLFRIEND WAS JESSIE?!" Sam yelled, standing up and looking absolutely flabbergasted.

You laughed and smiled at her. "Bingo," you said.

The rest of the night was spent with the girls asking a thousand questions and then finally, you convinced them to keep the game going. And it did. When jessie’s turn came, she picked out a paper. "Let the person on your left decide who… who you need to play seven minutes in heaven with."

And then suddenly, you were squished in a closet with Jessie. Her breath on your neck, her freckles somehow visible even in the darkness.

"Is it okay that I told them? I was just tired of them trying to set us up and it’s obvious you aren’t interested so-" you started saying. "What makes you say that?" Jessie asked, her eyebrows scrunching adorably. "Well. I don’t know. Are you?" you asked, a spark of hope in your heart. "I miss you. And i’m sorry about your dad. I wish I could have helped you through his death. I should have fought for you." Jessie said, every word coming with her warm breath on your collarbone, neck and jawline. "It’s okay," you said. "It’s not. I want to make it okay though," Jessie said, subtly sliding her hand beneath the waistband of your jeans and tracing patterns over the band of your underwear. "Then make it okay. Kiss me, Jess. For two years i’ve missed you and it’s all I’ve wanted since-"

She cut you off, placing her lips on yours and pushing your body into the back of the closet. A thump echoed and there was a moment of silence as you kissed that was broken by cheering from outside the closet. You both smiled into the kiss, the reminder of how well your lips fit together, sweet.

[divinesolas]

Summary: Your friend was invited to a party and she begs you to tag along. While at the party they decide to play truth or dare and your friend knowing you have a crush on the cute guy from your english class, gives you a stupid dare.

pairing: Ethan Landry × gn!reader Drabble

warnings: alternate universe where there's no ghostface or whatever. I've never seen a scream movie before but i like ethan, oc best friend, cursing, making out.

a/n: not my usual fandom but i was just inspired to write this

PART TWO !!

While staring at your best friend in betrayal all you can think about how much you regret coming.

Only just hours ago you remember sitting on your bed on the phone with your best friend mars while she ranted to you about how much she wanted you to come. "pleeeeeeeeeeeee ease." you roll your eyes, "i don't feel like it mars."

"ugh," you can hear her shuffling through the phone, "just come with me please? for me?" "mars..." "'Il write that english paper youve been dreading for you." "Fine."

You two arrive at the party and you just follow her around the whole time. You notice than is here. The guy who sits next to you during english who you just so happen to have a major crush on. You've never spoken other than him asking if you have an extra pen during class after he forgot his one time. When he gave it back to you he has this charming grin on his face and you fell instantly.

He's standing next to another guy, you think his name is chad? You cant be bothered to care when he looks in your direction and notices you and your stare, his face flushes as he looks down at the cup in his hand. You turn away and look towards your friend whos giving you a suspicious grin. "what." "go talk to him." "no way."

she shakes her head at you and turns away that grin still on her face and you dont like it.

now you know why you didn't like it. Someone had suggested you guys play truth or dare like fucking children and when it happens to be your turn and guess who happens to be the one giving you the dare. "I dare you to..... sit in the pantry for seven minutes, ill send someone into join you." Fucking mars.

You knew who she would send it, "unless you're a pussy." you glared at her as everyone oo'ed. You huff as you get up and walk towards the pantry and slam it behind you dreading the inevitable.

the closet is small yet you keep your back turned towards the door. Its only maybe a minute before the door opens and you feel another presence enter as mars shouts, "Seven minutes starts... now!" You feel a warm body press against yours as the door slams shut.

You don't turn you dont even look before you begin to speak. "Im sorry." Theres a moment of silence, "For what?" Its him. "My friend mars, she's..... She's probably making you do this im sorry." He probably doesn't even know your name and now she has you standing your backside pressed against him.

"No she isn't making me do this." Now this confuses you as you turn your body, you back side brushing against his front and he whimpers slightly as you face him. "What."

His body gets warmer as if to reflect how embarrassed he feels, "She asked if there was anyone who wants to go in there with you." no way. "and you volunteered." you look at him the best you can in the dark as he avoids your face. "Yes."

"Why?" He pauses for a brief moment, "i've always thought you were gorgeous." Your breathe gets caught in your throat. "I've always wanted to talk to you you know since we sit next to each other but i've never known how to start a conversation so when i got this opportunity i just wanted to be near you-" He's rambling so You kiss him.

Once his initial shock wares off he takes your face into his hands eagerly as he kisses you back. you press him back against the door and he hums in delight. "One more minute love birds!" Its chad voice you think. You pull back out of breath, "Ethan-" he slams his lips back against yours, when you press your body against his he whimpers and hums. you hold him against you as theres a knock on the door,

"times up lovebirds make sure you're clothed because im going to open to the door." Ethan pulls away from the door and you two look at each other in daze.

as the door opens you move to whisper in his ear "We'll finish this later." as you spin him around and walk pantry with a satisfied look on your face. "You're welcome you bitch.

[kirasworldofwords]

Also, small announcement from my side: I'm working on a new fic! First chapter is already out, though from here on, I will not continue posting more until the story is fully finished - so this one won't go down the drain like the other one, lmao.

It's called Shadow Ops, like the TV series from 2013 (big thanks to my bestie @ill-procastinato for giving me this name idea, you're the best!) and it's an alternative universe where a few Formula 1 drivers become part of the FBI! This fic will include Hulknussen, Chestappen, Pierresteban, Landoscar, Zhouttas, Webbonso, Charlos, Brocedes and platonic Sargebon and is rated E for spicy things down the line and majorly described injuries as well as descriptions of dead people and swearing.

Included are: Nico Hülkenberg (main), Kevin Magnussen (main), Sergio Pérez, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Alexander Albon, Logan Sargeant, Zhou Guan Yu, Valtteri Bottas, Fernando Alonso, Mark Webber, Carlos Sainz Jr., Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton, Nico Rosberg and Jenson Button. George Russel is mentioned here or there, but I won't dive too deep into his role - you'll see why.

There's action, there's love, there will be death and I will make it heartbreaking at certain points. My notes are filled to the brim with stuff I want to include.

I'm really excited about this! And I hope so are you all. 🫶🏻

Have a teaser under the cut!

As soon as he arrived at work and clocked in, he got greeted by one of the many familiar faces of his team and smiled happily. "Good morning, Checo!", the German greeted his colleague, the team's toxicologist, who looked up from the documents he carried to his lab in slight surprise at first but quickly smiled gently. "Buenos días, Nico. Had a good weekend?", the man inquired, waiting for the Special Agent to catch up with him who breathed out a small chuckle. "Relatively, yes. Had a talk with my mom over the phone on Saturday, first one in ages, it feels like. She really misses me. Currently planning my vacation to Emmerich already. What about you?", Nico explained a bit, and Checo nodded along before sighing. "Mmh, could've been better. My sister currently tries to execute a plan to get herself and our parents out of Mexico and into the States. Apparently, the cartel got wind of my occupation and now they're pressuring my parents to get me to come back so they can bleed me dry, basically. It's... a lot to take in.", the Mexican vented a bit, earning himself a sympathetic pat on the shoulder from Nico. "Sounds like a lot of work... I'm positive you can get through this, though. You're Sergio Pérez after all, you can do anything.", he uplifted his colleague who laughed and nodded as he slowed down - he had reached his lab.

"I just need to remember to never give up. That's all.", the smaller man confirmed, having Nico nod at that before they parted ways for the time being, the German now on his way to his own office. He greeted Pierre with a hearty "good morning" as well as the Frenchman rushed past him, the forensic pathologist only shouting a hurried "Morning!" in return. He seemed quite busy, so Nico decided not to interfere.

While on his way to his office, Nico suddenly got dragged into another room - his boss Jenson's office. Nico's partner in crime Kevin was there already as well, the two greeting each other shortly as the German blond closed the door behind himself hastily as he stumbled inside from Jenson dragging him so harshly. "What a way to say good morning at fucking 8 AM, Jenson... What's up? New job?", he asked, and the British man nodded with a serious look on his face. "Brand new job indeed. I already told Kevin all the details, he'll drive you over to the crime scene." - that was all Nico got from his boss, understanding that the Dane next to him would explain everything in detail during their ride to the scene.

As Nico learned later on from Kevin, their victim of the day was a young man, estimated to be somewhere in his mid-twenties and from Great Britain.

[arc852]

29. Sweet Tooth

Definition: a great liking for sweet-tasting foods.

Summary: Joel and Jimmy arrive at Joel's home and Jimmy tries something sweet for the first time.

G/t: Joel is normal-sized, Jimmy is a borrower

Word Count: 2027

AO3 Link

Another installment in the BBBCAU! This pretty much takes place right after Coveted. You might need to read that one or you'll be a bit confused!

Also, I can't believe GtJuly2024 is almost over! But we've got two more stories left! And I'm definietly not going to stop writing after this. There just might be a bit more time between posts after this month lol.

I hope you guys enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Joel entered his room after his reunion with his family. He’d normally spend more time talking to them and visiting first thing but he kind of rushed it, knowing Jimmy was in his pocket. He knew the poor borrower wanted out as soon as possible, the chest pocket not being nearly as comfortable as a hoodie pocket, according to Jimmy. So he hurried along the hellos to his family so he could rush to his room.

 He closed the door behind him, finally having some privacy. Despite his best efforts to rush, his family still managed to keep him downstairs for an hour. Jimmy was probably suffocating in his pocket by now. The thought made Joel more nervous and he lifted up the lip of his chest pocket. “Hey, everything alright in there?”

 Jimmy looked up at him from the pocket, looking more or less okay, if a little ruffled. He sent Joel a thumbs up. “All good but ready to come out now if possible.” Jimmy said with a chuckle and Joel snorted in turn. He then reached in carefully, using only two fingers to snag onto Jimmy’s body and pull him out. As soon as he was out of the pocket, Joel moved his other hand and released his pinched grip on Jimmy, letting him sit on his open palm.

 “Well, welcome to my room.” Joel said a bit half-heartedly. He’d be more excited but he did just drive 3 hours. “This is where I’ve spent the last 18 years of my life before going away to University.” 

 For Jimmy’s part, he did look excited. “Wow! It looks like the dorm but…more you!” Jimmy exclaimed, looking up at Joel with a grin.

 Joel snorted. “What does that even mean?” Joel walked farther into his room, setting his suitcase down at the foot of his bed and sitting on top of the bed, reaching over with his free hand to turn on his bedside lamp.

 “I don’t know, I can just tell this is your room, is all.” Jimmy tried to explain himself, face heating up a bit.

 “Or maybe you know it’s my room because I told you it is.” Joel quipped back and laughed as Jimmy got heated.

 “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Jimmy yelled over Joel’s laughter.

 Suddenly, there was a brief knock on Joel’s door before it began to open. In a panic, Joel clasped his hands together with Jimmy in the middle to hide him and then placed his hands in his lap to look a bit more normal. His mom peeked in, looking at the odd way Joel was sitting with a confused face but thankfully she didn’t say anything.

 “Just wanted to let you know dinner is ready. Wash your hands and come down to eat.” She said and Joel nodded, watching and waiting until the door was fully closed and he heard her footsteps walking away. He let out a sigh of relief and opened his hands up.

 He winced as he saw Jimmy looked a bit knocked around. “Sorry Jim, I wasn’t expecting her to suddenly come in here like that.” He supposed dorm life made him used to people not suddenly walking in. “Are you okay?” He raised his hand, trying to make sure he didn’t hurt him with the sudden movement.

 “Yeah, I’m okay. Just startled me is all.” Jimmy said with a smile. “I’d rather be a bit ruffled than have someone else see me though. So thanks.”

 Joel nodded seriously. “Of course. Both me and Grian know how important it is to keep you hidden from everyone else.” He didn’t want to think about someone with ill intentions getting their hands on Jimmy. The very thought made his blood boil. He shook his head. “Anyway, if I don’t start heading down, mom will come up here again.” He set Jimmy down on his nightstand and stood up.

 “I’ll bring you up some dinner afterwards but it might be a bit. Are you gonna be okay here by yourself?” Joel asked, a little nervous leaving Jimmy alone. Sure, they left him alone all the time back at the dorm but Jimmy knew that place like the back of his hand. This was all new for the borrower.

 Jimmy waved away his worries. “I’ll be fine! I’ll just explore a bit, I’ve got plenty to see after all.” he wouldn’t be bored, that was for sure.

 Joel nodded. “Okay, just be careful.” He headed toward the door, glanced at Jimmy one more time before quickly opening and closing the door behind him.

 Jimmy listened to Joel’s footsteps fade away as he realized he was now alone for the first time in, well, a while. It was kind of nice if he was being honest. He loved Grian and Joel but even now it could still feel overwhelming being around them at times. Being alone for these little bits gave him some time to reset.

 Besides, right now, he was also excited to explore Joel’s room. It had been such a long time since he had explored a new space. Back at the college, a lot of dorm rooms were exactly the same, save the things inside that people brought with them. But this was completely new and Jimmy could feel his instincts kicking in. He wanted to explore and borrow and he wanted to do it now.

 Of course, he wouldn’t be doing any actual borrowing. This was Joel’s stuff after all and there wasn’t anything that he actually needed. But acting like he was on the hunt for something settled something in him that he hadn’t realized was still there.

 He started his climb down from the nightstand, ready and eager to explore.

  ***

   Joel balanced a plate in one hand and a glass of water in the other as he tried to open his door without dropping either of them. He thought about sneaking the food away at first, but there was no way he would be able to with all his family’s attention on him. So instead he lied and said he was still hungry. Thankfully it worked and he was ushered upstairs with an extra plate of food, some dessert, and water. It was honestly too much for Jimmy to eat but at least he had some variety in his options.

 He finally managed to open the door, closing it quickly behind him. He then stood there, scared to move when he realized Jimmy said he would be exploring. Which meant the borrower was currently on the ground. And without eyes on him, Joel didn’t want to move a single step. “Jimmy? It’s just me. I brought dinner.”

 His eyes scanned the floor until he saw Jimmy coming out from underneath his bed. He relaxed and made his way over to set the food and drink on his nightstand, being careful of where Jimmy was at. After making his hands free, he crouched down and scooped Jimmy up. Jimmy must have been expecting it because he didn’t so much as make a noise. He just settled into Joel’s palms. Joel smiled a bit at that, almost not wanting to put him down. But he knew Jimmy needed to eat, so he set him down on the nightstand as Joel took a seat on his bed.

 “Whoa! This looks so good!” Jimmy exclaimed, running over to the plate. 

 “Yeah, it tastes good too.” Joel forgot how Jimmy survived solely on take-out and dorm food. Which were fine but it didn’t hold a candle to a nice home-cooked meal. Was this Jimmy’s first time eating something home-cooked? “I think the chicken will be easy enough for you to eat but I’m not sure about the mashed potatoes.” Joel tried to explain.

 “I think it’ll be fine. It’s solid enough.” Jimmy said as he stuck his finger in it and licked it. He grinned at the taste. He then looked at the other thing on the plate, his eyes going wide. “What’s that?” He pointed to it.

 Joel hummed, following his finger. “Oh! My mom made us some dessert. Something special for coming back home. It’s chocolate cake.”

 “Chocolate cake?” Jimmy repeated back. He had never heard of it, at least as far as he could remember.

 Joel blinked. “Oh, I guess the dorms don’t really have desserts or sweets huh?” Not only has Jimmy been deprived of home-cooked meals but of sweets as well? He really needed to figure out a way to get these things to Jimmy more often. It just wasn’t fair.

 “Yeah, some humans bring like, chocolate bars and stuff with them, but those things are coveted. I never even hoped to get my hands on one. It would have been too much of a risk.” Jimmy explained and Joel winced. 

 “Well, you don’t have to worry about that now. Go ahead and eat as much as you want.” Joel said, leaning back on his hands to let Jimmy go at it. Jimmy for his part, nodded and started eating. He started with the actual dinner first, going for some chicken and then grabbing a scoop of mashed potatoes for himself. Joel watched fascinated. He’s seen Jimmy eat multiple times now but it was always so weird. Joel couldn’t help but stare sometimes.

 Jimmy was done with the main course pretty quickly. He couldn’t eat too much of it after all. In fact, to Joel it barely looked like he had made a dent out of it. At least it didn’t cost anything extra for Grian and Joel to keep Jimmy fed. Joel watched, excited, as Jimmy made his way to the chocolate cake.

 Jimmy himself was also excited. This would be his first time trying anything chocolate, let alone cake. He couldn’t wait to see what all the fuss was about. He grabbed himself a handful, making sure to get a bit of everything in it. It was messy though, way messier than even the mashed potatoes had been. Jimmy ignored that though and went in for a bite.

 His eyes widened.

 Joel laughed at Jimmy’s expression. “That good huh?”

 All Jimmy could do was nod as he went in for another bite. And another. And another.

 Joel blinked, laughter dying off and replaced by a bit of awe. “Oh wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat that much.”

 Jimmy couldn’t help it, it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Was this what he had been missing out on all this time? If that was the case, maybe the risk would have been worth it after all. This was delicious. 

 Joel’s awe was soon replaced by concern. “Ah, okay, yeah, I think I gotta cut you off here.” Joel said as he gently grabbed Jimmy and pulled him away from the cake. 

 “Hey!” Jimmy squirmed in his grip and Joel almost dropped him. He brought his other hand underneath to make sure nothing happened. Jimmy hadn’t squirmed in his grasp in a long time. Not since they had first met. This was different though, of course, as Jimmy very quickly settled down and just huffed at him.

 “Sorry Jimmy but if you keep it up, you’re gonna get a stomach ache.” He looked back over at the cake. Unlike the rest of the food, he could very clearly see that it had been eaten off of. “I’ll keep in mind you’ve got quite the sweet tooth though. I promise that won’t be your last chocolate cake.”

 Jimmy perked up a bit at that. “Alright. I guess I should stop for now.” Jimmy agreed and Joel laughed. He then took a better look at Jimmy and noticed how much of a mess he was. His laughter turned into playful disgust.

 “And you’re a mess. Guess it’s time for a visit to the sink.” Joel said with a shrug, grinning as Jimmy yelled. 

“No! Not the sink!”

 Joel laughed as he headed toward the bathroom in order to prepare the sink so Jimmy could clean himself up.

 The rest of this break was looking like it was going to be a lot of fun.

[agaypanic]

The Boyfriend Next Door (Francis Wilkerson X Neighbor!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: A few months after meeting Francis, he’s finally coming back home for spring. He calls you before boarding his plane, and Francis leaves you anxious and excited when he says he has a question to ask when he gets home.

A/N: last francis fic!!! this is part 2 to the boy next door’s brother, so read that first if you haven't yet. I know the first part is written in third person but im writing this in second, idc. Added the SASU thing just for conversational stuff, im not having this fic be in a specific point in the actual series, although in my head it does take place in season 1

***

Francis had made good use of the phone number you had written on his arm the night you met. After landing in Alabama, he called you for a quick chat while he waited for a cab. Then Francis called you at the academy after putting his things in his dorm, telling you the number for the academy phone in case you ever wanted to call him. 

Eventually, he was calling you so much that he had your number memorized before the end of the week.

Francis loved talking to you. And he was right; he liked hearing about your day a lot more from you than from Malcolm. You could talk his ear off, then the other, and he still wouldn’t mind. If anything, the only people who seemed to mind were his fellow cadets waiting for a chance to use the phone.

“Enough about me,” Francis said, wrapping up a story about one of his latest antics involving the Southern Alabama State University’s pool. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Definitely not property damage.” He heard you laugh through the phone, and his pulse quickened a bit. “Nothing but homework, at least that’s what it feels like. Thank God for spring break, otherwise my brain might break.”

“Speaking of spring break…” Francis trailed off, picking at some peeling paint on the pillar the phone was mounted on. “Got any plans?”

You smiled at his tone, like he had a big secret. “Not that I know of. Why?”

He shrugged. “No reason. Just thought I’d ask.”

“Are you staying in Alabama for break?” You tried to keep the disappointment out of your voice. You hadn’t seen Francis since the day you met, which was almost three months ago. It’s not that you absolutely needed to see him. But multiple calls a week, where conversations ranged from your day-to-day to little secrets no one else knew about you, made you want to see him face to face. 

Francis made a non-commital noise, shrugging even though you couldn’t see it. “Depends on if my mom ever finds out about the pool.”

***

Francis was lying, of course. He didn’t want to lie to you, even though there was no ill intention behind it, but he wanted to surprise you. 

But while waiting for his flight to board, he got impatient.

“Y/n?” Francis asked after hearing the phone get picked up.

“Hey, Francis.” You greeted, and he heard some rustling, which was probably you leaving the room to get some privacy. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” He answered, jumping a little when he heard his flight being called.

“Where are you right now?”

“Uhh, doesn’t matter. Listen, I have a question I wanna ask you, Y/n.” While speaking, Francis looked at his ticket and realized he had to get in line for boarding. 

“Okay…” You let out a little chuckle, wondering why he was sounding so frantic. “Go ahead.”

“I’ll have to ask you later, I gotta go. But I’ll, um, I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

“Wait, what-”

“Bye!”

***

You were on edge for the next few hours. You tried calling the academy for Francis, but another cadet picked up, saying he was flying home today. Hearing that made you anxious, in a good and bad way. You were finally seeing Francis after months of only phone calls, but you had no time to prepare for his arrival. His saying he had a question for you right before hanging up didn’t help. 

When there was a frantic knock on the front door, you all but flew out of your seat on the couch, yelling to your parents that you would answer. They just laughed at your excitement before returning to the TV.

Reaching the entryway, you flung the door open, relieved that the person on the other side was who you were hoping for. “Francis!” 

The boy before you dropped his suitcase to catch you as you launched yourself into his arms. “Surprise.” He laughed, caught off guard by the affection. But it was definitely not unwelcome. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, pulling back to look at him. But before he could answer, you waved your hand, a more important question popping into your mind. “Wait! No, no, no, what was your question?”

“My question?” Francis tried to act dumb, but it was a futile attempt, considering you had been thinking about your previous conversation since it happened.

“You said you had a question to ask me, and then you hung up. What’s the question?”

Francis laughed again, but this time more nervously. He had spent the whole flight panicking over what he wanted to ask you and then spent the whole car ride hyping himself up to actually ask it. And now, here he was. “Oh, right…” Francis’ fingers locked together, keeping you in his hold, which you didn’t mind at all. His thumbs drummed against your back, building up the anticipation.

“Francis-”

“Do you wanna go out?” He blurted, and you blinked in surprise. “On a date. With me.”

“Like… now?” You were trying to keep your cool, but you couldn’t stop the giant grin from taking over your face.

Francis took this as a good sign. “We could go now, if you want. Or, or later in the week, maybe. And then, you know, maybe if it goes well, we could go on another date and maybe…”

“Start dating?” You finished, hoping that’s where he was going. “Like, officially?”

He nodded furiously, glad that you were getting the idea that he was trying to get across. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to, obviously. We could take it slow or-” 

You cut off what was about to be a nervous ramble by pressing your lips to Francis’. You were just so caught up in your excitement, you couldn’t help but kiss him. Francis pulled you closer, if that was even possible, deepening the kiss, and you hoped that your parents wouldn’t come to check on the two of you.

The both of you were out of breath when you broke apart, resting your foreheads against each other. After the months of build-up, you didn’t want to take it slow. And judging by the kiss you shared, Francis felt the same way.

“Malcolm’s gonna be so pissed,” Francis murmured, and you felt a ghost of a smile against your lips as he kissed you again.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

Francis Wilkerson Taglist: @tweedledipshit

[in1-nutshell]

And I also wanted to see of Maxima being a con (in the same universe as Ophelia btw if you remember!)

I’ll probably request more, but like usual ill request just two per open request

Almost forgot about writing that one for the summaries!

Here it is now!

Hope you enjoy!

Maxima turns into a Con

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Maxima had been quiet for the past few days.

Ever since her brief encounter with Megatron and Ophelia…

She knew she needed to come up with an answer or some sort of plan.

Maxima knew what would happen if she betrayed the Autobots.

If she betrayed Optimus…

But who then was going to save Opehlia?

Megatron was going to terminate her the next battle if she didn’t join his ranks.

All she needed to do was shoot someone and that would guarantee Ophelia’ safety.

The decision needed to be made fast, the others were starting to notice the change.

Miko going up to Maxima: “Hey you wanna go dune bashing?” Maxima looks down at Miko: “Not today Miko.” Miko pats her pede: “You okay Maxima? You’ve been acting a bit weird lately. You sick? Wait can you guys get sick?” Jack: “Who’s sick?” Raf: “Someone’s sick?” Maxima: “No one is sick. Its just… I have a lot of things going up in the old helm. We can go dune bashing another day, okay?” Miko and the others seem satisfied with the answer and leave her alone. Maxima sighs and goes to return to her habsuite, but a servo stops her. It was Optimus. Optimus: “Maxima, is everything all right?” Maxima gives him a tired smile: “Not so much, but I’m handling it.” Optimus: “If you need help Maxima, do not be afraid to ask for assistance from me or the others.” Maxima stomps down the little cry in her throat: “Understood… and thank you.” Maxima slips through the Prime’s servos and quietly enters her room. Optimus stays in the same place for a bit before Ratchet walks over. Ratchet: “Something’s going on with her Optimus.” Optimus: “Agreed old friend.” Ratchet: “Did she tell you anything?” Optimus: " Nothing that would serve of use. But I am sure she will come to us if the problem does prove to be much.” Ratchet mumbles a bit: “Let’s hope so.” Optimus nods to this as well.

Finally, the day came.

Maxima took an extra hour before the mission to make sure her fail safe plans in the base had been set up.

Hopefully someone would snoop around and see the recordings.

She said her goodbyes to the children and gave a quick hug to Ratchet and ran into the groundbridge.

As expected, the ‘ambush’ was there waiting for them.

Maxima stayed on the defense until Megatron arrived.

She stopped her movements and stared at the warlord from across the field.

Maxima activated her blasters, shakingly.

Tears began pooling around her optics.

She knew who was behind her.

She knew what this would do to the team.

She knew what this would do to her.

… But who knows what Megatron would do to Ophelia if she didn’t do it.

Without taking her teary gaze from Megatron, Maxima fires one blast.

…

…

… straight into Optimus Prime’s chassis.

The entire battlefield went quiet seeing the mighty Prime fall from the blast. Maxima can’t hear anything other than the white noise in her audials. She can’t hear her teammates calling to her. She barely felt Megatron dragging her to the groundbridge. Before she knew it, the colors of the Nemesis filled her vision. Megatron clamps her shoulders wearing a proud smile. Something she hadn’t seen since she was a sparkling. Megatron: “My fellow Decepticons! What you have just witnessed was the death of an Autobot and the rise of a Decepticon. Maxima is now one of us.” Maxima feels the waterworks slowly coming. Megatron guides Maxima to a room. Maxima: “Where are we?” Megatron: “Your new shared quarters.” He opens the door. Megatron: “As promised, no harm done.” Ophelia gasps seeing Maxima at the doorframe. Megatron gives her another pat on the shoulder: “For future reference, I am the only one who can kill Optimus Prime… welcome to your new home my child.” SLAM! The door closes as Maxima falls to her knees. Ophelia runs over to her. Ophelia: “What are you doing here!? What did—” Maxima pulls her close and starts sobbing: “Y-you’re alive! Oh t-thank the Prime’s you’re- you’re okay!” Ophelia starts crying too and hugs back. Ophelia: “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” Maxima just hugs tighter as a new wave of tears arrives. Only time would tell what would happen to the two now. But at least they were safe… for the time being at least…

[xbunnybunz]

entropy as a flame that flickers red [Arcane!Viktor/Reader]

Summary:

He holds his other hand out to you, upturned and already beginning to pool with rainwater. Even in the dark, his eyes catch shrapnels of light like flint and amber.

You’ll always agree to anything he asks of you.

Or, in which you are loved, and you are changed, and you are lost. Told in three parts, in ten pieces.

Genres: Romance, Angst, Sci-Fi/Fantasy

I.

“A gradual, irreversible change into disorder.”

-Oxford Dictionary on: Entropy.

“To be loved is to be changed.”

-tacticalcoquette

II. 

“Viktor.”

A boy is crouched in front of the creek, clutching a toy boat to his chest with one hand and winding it with the other. “Yes?”

Another child stands beside him, behind him, just slightly. “I’m afraid.”

“Of?”

There is no response, only the sound of running water.

III. 0

You stand there, in that foreign, wet darkness, staring straight ahead.

The sound of falling water. The cold bite of nighttime air. The rise and fall of your chest.

Close your eyes. Feel the slide of rain moving from the crown of your head down to your jaw, feel how it stagnates at the comb of your eyelashes, at the jut of your lips, beading, motionless, before inevitably collapsing over the edge.

You hear the hush of water under the dock, how the push and pull of water overpowers the rain, even when the downpour is raucous. 

Either the tide or the stormwater licks at your feet, wicking upwards into the holes of the soles of your half-size too-large leather shoes, cobbled specially for staff at the University of Piltover, for Viktor, who had requested them in what he thought was your size.

When he arrives, he arrives soaked, hair dark from the rain, wetly sticking to his forehead and ears.

“I didn’t think I would catch up to you.” He says.

It’s a lie and both you and him know this, something to say for the sake of saying anything at all. You would never flee too far from the University, too far from where his illness would allow him to travel. 

You wonder if he’s aware that you will never be upset enough to be gone for good.

And you don’t respond to him, because maybe you don’t want him to know this. Instead, shift nervously, foot from foot. Your left leg hisses under the weight and the gears, crude, give way and you nearly buckle.

Viktor notices. 

He produces an umbrella from the inside of his blazer, leaning heavily on his cane with one hand to pull it out from the inner pocket. 

“Please,” He says simply, and you notice the way his right knee trembles.

You don’t have to ask why he didn’t use it. You can only move so fast when wielding both an open umbrella and a cane in a storm. 

Take it. It opens large enough for the both of you, but he insists that you keep yourself dry. You do not miss how he pushes the umbrella over your left side. 

“I’m sorry.” You say.

Your eyes slide from the hand lingering on yours to his face, and he smiles. Really, smiles.

“Come,” He says. “Let’s go.”

He holds his other hand out to you, upturned and already beginning to pool with rainwater. Even in the dark, his eyes catch shrapnels of light like flint and amber. They’re ringed with dark circles, they’ve been this way for some time, now.

You’ll always agree to anything he asks of you.

Take his hand.

IV. 0

It starts before the first sign of lightning breaks from over the rolling mountains. Before the stunningly red sunset from last week, or the flurry of shooting stars tearing across a blue-black canvas from the months before that.

A crack of lightning illuminates your memory. Pinch each photon into darkness, compress the fractured sky back down into a hair-raising, sizzling type of imminent danger. 

Push the sunset until the sky unripens from a deep cherry red to a fierce magenta to a cloudless blue. Keep going until the night fades into the day before, until the stars ripping a seam into the sky alight it again and fade just as quickly as they come.

Unwind the spool of time until the pair of you arrive in Piltover, fresh from the slums of the undercity, sick with poison and sicker with want, in the glittering, glamorous city of Progress, then keep going.

Go further back still, until there is a matchstick, then stop. Watch.

Watch as the wooden grain of the match gives slightly as it is pressed against rock. Watch the slide of the match against a cavern wall, kinetic power building, friction reaching a burning point until sparks catch in the darkness. Until a flame engulfs the hot pink igniter, held tentatively between a forefinger and a thumb.

Watch as one of the children hold up the match to the other, like it is magic.

“Entropy.” He says. “Irreversible change.”

You listen to him carefully.

“I can undo the damage,” He says, “I have the concept down, and the blueprints. Given, they are crude. But with time that can change.”

You are in his modest bed in his modest Piltover apartment, sizeable enough for one and cluttered enough for two, attached to the University’s established wing for notable scholars and graduates.

Watch as a bird lands outside his window, head bobbing as it moves to and fro along the sill.

You collapsed today, finally. You knew your leg would give out eventually, but just not where.

“How?” You ask him when the bird disappears behind the vents.

“Hextech.” He says, his brows furrowing. 

You recognize that name, and you know he knows this, too. It’s the technology he’d been working on in his laboratory for nearly a year now, that strange azure-colored stone that shone like a star, pulsed like the sun, and lashed out like a living thing.

Close your eyes and sink further into the bed. The comforter smells like Viktor and all his astringent body wash and odorless fabric softener. 

“Listen,” He begs. And you hate it when he begs. You hate it when someone like Viktor ever has to beg with someone like you. 

“Hextech has the potential to restore what the undercity did to us,” He speaks with a glimmer in his eye, urgency down turning his lips just a fraction, placing a slight stutter in his speech, “Not just for me, but… You, too.” 

When he speaks, he gestures to your leg under the white blankets, an odd lump now due to its placement above a pillow. He gestures to your chest, where under skin and fat and muscle lays your slow-beating heart, an organ that the undercity pollutants had eaten away at until it hammered an irregular rhythm into your body. And you get what he wants, but he doesn’t shy away from saying it aloud.

“It will work if the math is all correct, and I’ve run through it… Almost dozens of times.” He shakes his head, as if he, himself, is in disbelief at how many times he’s poured over the equations. “The council, the Professor, Jayce… They would never let me fuse with Hextech. But even if I cannot save myself, I can save you.”

The bird is back, trudging along the bustling skyline. You can see now that it is a crimson pigeon, its scarlet bust thrumming as it coos, coos, coos, turns yellow, turns violet, like a flickering flame.

You hear an edge in his voice, one that rings free of desperation and determination. It lilts his voice almost musically, tilts it upwards into an almost-question at the end of his sentences. A kind of keenness.

“Please. It will succeed. I just… Have to try it.”

You let it sit in the air for a whole, let it grow stale. You wonder if he knows what he is asking of you. You wonder if he knows what he is promising you. 

The look on his face says he does, he does.

“You think Hextech can save me, Viktor?” You ask. You think you can save me, you wanted to ask.

“I know I can.” Maybe a slip of the tongue. Maybe not. But he reaches for your hand anyway.

The crimson pigeon takes flight, its batting wings beat against the glass pane and maybe it's not your heart that is making that sound in your ears.

You will never be able to refuse him.

V. 90

The first thing you do with your new leg is dance.

In the lab, before Viktor and the Hexcore, you begin by skipping in a circle, then spinning, then before you know it you are going from foot to foot and laughing, hard.

You don’t know when this happens, but Viktor is soon out of his chair, spinning you.

There is no music. There does not have to be. In this moment, it is you and him, together, on the path to a better life. 

But you are not sure what comes first, him falling, or you trying to catch him. He doesn’t seem to know this either, and you think that may hurt him more.

When he’s on the floor, you are stopped from helping him by a single waving hand, dismissing you. The other one reaches for his cane, and he fumbles with it for one, two, seconds before he is back on his feet.

“Are you okay?” You ask, immediately flitting to his side. 

He flinches at your newfound speed and this makes you hesitate, and this makes him turn from you.

“I…” He coughs into a closed fist, trying hard to keep an even breath and failing. This only frustrates him more. “I am.” He says, finally. And he makes haste to sit back in his chair, leaning heavily on his cane.

At his proximity, the Hexcore trembles.

At his distance, you sink.

VI. 90

“Piltover is everything you could ever imagine. The clean air, the roadways, transportation, technology, potential!” 

He finishes his grand statement with a sweep of his hand, garnishing a pencil, across a gridded sheet, the page curled with moisture. The final stroke on something called an “airship” he had seen above, featuring a metal casing on the hull, as detailed in his notes.

“Something that only flies in open skies…” You say, tracing the divot of his words in the paper. “...I can’t imagine that in the undercity.”

Viktor gives a curt laugh, one of disbelief, one of an embezzled kind of hope. “Neither can I.” Then he places a thoughtful finger on his chin, shaking his head. Looks at you.

“Our future is up there.” He says, solemnly.

Yours, you think. 

And you wonder how big Piltover University is. How big Piltover is. If Viktor will grow to like its roominess, its blue skies, the airships dotting the clouds. If he will forget all about you.

Then he places his hands on your shoulders, and he is warm.

“Ours.” He says, a resoluteness in his voice.

And you throw back your head and laugh, because if you do not you are sure you will cry.

When he shows it to you first, you feel lightheaded, then sick, then you actually get sick.

You empty the contents of your stomach into a metal bin sitting near the edge of his workspace, and by the time you realize it is only full of papers and does not have a trash bag in it, it’s too late.

You don’t look up, but you see a vague reflection of him by the outer rim of the garbage bin, a smear of brown, maroon, and yellow.

He’s got a hand on your back, rubbing up and down the length of your spine, creasing then smoothing, creasing then smoothing your shirt under his calloused hand.

He still hasn’t put down the heart he’s holding, all sculpted from stainless steel, hued yellow and glinting gold in the old fluorescent lighting of the lab. Carries it carefully, balancing it just within your peripheral vision, probably accidentally.

When you catch sight of it again, that metal husk, made to fit around your heart like an armor, simulates pumping the way a heart should pump, the way yours doesn’t, you dry heave again. 

This time, nothing comes out. You don’t sit up.

“The idea is foreign, I understand. But this can help you live your life to its fullest. This is… Revolutionary.”

You wonder what that means, living life to its fullest. 

You think of Viktor and his leg and you. Did he not think his life was full, like that? You think of all the times your heart swelled and beat hard in your chest, how maybe, even then, your life was good, but was always underlined with could’ve been better.

“It won’t be just me, alone.” Viktor confesses, stooping low, so he can meet your eyes where you are. He pauses and doesn’t continue.

You squeeze your eyes closed, so hard that colors swirl behind your lids, magenta, indigo, purple, and pulse a headache into your temples.

“Who else?” You ask. You already know before he speaks.

He clears his throat before he speaks, “Singed.”

You try to get your bearings. Breathe in deep, the air in Piltover, as always, was crisp. Clean, and pure, and not fatal, fatalistic. 

You wonder if his science can explain this, if any amount of particles bouncing around can be stopped in time, counted and calculated to predict this future, to prevent it. 

Breathe in deep. Take in how the tiles under your shoes shine with a champagne color, the shade richer and more luminous than any coin that you’ve seen and used in the undercity.

Viktor shifts to sit back up and the motion throws an obnoxious gleam on the artificial heart, lighting his hands an opalescent purple hue, catching on one of the horrible, minuscule electric threads meant to embed into your muscle. You imagine it squelching around your heart. 

Wrap your arms around yourself to stop the chill from settling in.

Know what will happen, even before it does.

—

VII. 90

Back then, Viktor went away every other afternoon for a while, until he didn’t.

Back then, he’d used to come back, his fingers stained purple with some shimmering wildflower, until he didn’t.

And when he stopped, he didn’t talk about why he did until he was ready to.

“She was a mutation named Rio.” He said to you suddenly one day, while you were both overlooking the undercity from a rot-eaten rooftop. You stilled. Listened to his voice quiver.

“I thought he loved her. He fed her. Kept her well, and alive. He let me touch her, she was sick, but happy.”

He picked at a shingle from the roof, which came away into his hands easily. The shingle shone bright red, with rust, a tangerine hue of rust biting into the edges. He tossed it into the empty alleyway below. You hold your breath and hear it bounce from surface to surface before it clinks onto the floor, distantly.

You think about being sick and happy all the time.

Viktor continues, putting his fingers, intertwined, on his lap.

“But one day he had her in a… Tank. And she was in a solution to keep her alive. Only, alive. ” 

He turns to you.

“Promise me something,” He holds out his pinky finger, a sickly pale color, and you can almost still see the indigo stain on the pad of it. But you blink, and it’s gone. “Promise me that you’ll stop me before I get that bad.”

You watch his pinky finger, presented level with your hearts, how shakes with fear for the future, how stills with conviction.

“How will I know?” You ask. And he responds without missing a beat, as if he knew you’d ask. He probably did, because that was just who he was.

“If I ever put living above livelihood.”

You laugh at the face he was making, so serious about his undone crime, and push down his pinky promise.

“Viktor, you would never.”

“But– Promise me you will! If I do!”

You look at him, really look at him. See how his lower lip juts out, trembling slightly, how his eyes gleam with a fresh sheen of wetness. And in that moment, you think that nothing will ever change him, or you, or anything between you. 

“You won’t. I know it.” Your fingers find a shingle and tear.

—

The heart doesn’t beat as much as it pulses inside you, now. 

When you put your hand over it, it sounds like this:

“You’d never, you’d never, you’d never.”

VIII. 270

Viktor has been sicker than usual, and you know this because he refuses to see you, even for a little while.

Though you’ve stopped seeing him, you’ve noticed him everywhere in the way the world has lost its hue.

IX: 270

A student at Piltover University has died, and the news reaches you by word of idle undercity chatter. 

It has been months since Viktor has last seen you, and you grow more and more tireless yet. When this shred of information falls into your lap, a sting of alarm pierces your psyche like a hot needle.

You dial him two times and hear it ring before you stop at the third, after the line cuts straight to a dial tone. 

A sigh of relief.

You sit by the sea, on the dock at sunrise. Watch the white of the sun bleach the sky azure.

Water comes and water goes. But it all looks like the same stretch of blue to you. 

Your fingers curl around the edge of the boardwalk and the moist wood is studded with barnacles, which you pick at half-heartedly, just for something to do.

In just the past hour you’ve been sitting here, you’ve heard the topsiders mention the Piltover University death dozens of times. An assistant girl, her name Skye, bright young woman, full of potential.

You’ve seen flowers and gifts of condolence carted past you, off cargo ships in bunches and delivered to the direction of the school.

Your leather shoes are beside you, still half a size too big, now patched with charcoal rubber gum.

You suppose you’ve been blindsided to Piltover University’s prestigious attending class. Most were from rich families and bright futures, irregardless of where they would attend school. Students from places like Viktor, hopeless places, tended to fall through the cracks, unnoticed.

You swing your legs a little, letting the toe of your enhanced foot just barely skim the surface of the water, feel it surge every time it gets too close to the sea– or maybe it's only your imagination.

You think about Skye, about who she was, what she was doing, who she loved.

See the white seafroth spell out words that you can read for a second before it is gone.

Viktor. Viktor. Viktor. Every word says this, and it makes you dizzy.

Feel the breeze wash over you, salty and sweet. Feel your heart throbbing inside you, every milisecond of a thump calculated and executed with painstaking perfection. 

Are you sick anymore, then, you wonder?

You know the answer is no, technically. But you feel that the answer is yes, figuratively.

Place a hand over your heart and stare out, over the horizon, far into the blue, deep blue. And even when you close your eyes, you can’t erase the hue, it’s just colored over.

X: 180

You end up by the harbor again, on the sand at dawn, when the water is near green.

Every beat of your heart reminds you of change and it pains you more than any ailment you have ever suffered.

You wonder where Rio is now, if she is still alive. If she should be.

Don’t really think when you feel the tides lap at your shoes.

Don’t think as it fills it with water and loggs your socks with salt and sand grains, except for maybe how light it feels to be in the water again, after spending so much of your life unable to swim.

Tread deeper. Feel the Hextech in your leg vibrate to life, feel your heart do the same.

Close your eyes and imagine how Viktor is doing. What he is doing now, if he is asleep, if he is studying, scratching glyphs into paper with a charcoal pencil, if maybe he’s eased his pain with Hextech, like he had done for you, if Heimerdinger knew, if Jayce did.

The water sloshes by your knees, cold at first, then warmer as you grow immune to the bite.

You think back as far as you can remember, wonder if this is what death of self feels like– unravelling yourself back into a spool that cannot go any further.

You remember a pale wooden matchstick with a reddish-pink tip. Remember him holding it between his thumb and index finger, a quirk tipping his lips upward into a grin.

“This is the solution to all of our problems.” He had said.

Waist deep in the water, you feel the water pushing back against your body, pressing you back to the shore. 

The chill settles into your bones, makes it hard to keep going, but the adamantine leg glints at you from beneath the water, hammers, hard, under your ribcage. These things do not struggle, and that is what keeps you going. 

Dig your heels in, kick off the sand and dive into the water. 

“How is that going to fix anything?” You asked.

Under the water, your vision goes dark and a numbing rumble overtakes your hearing, flooding your ears with a deep gurgling. 

Within it, you can feel the pulse of your heart, first the organic beat, then the synthetic one. Ba dum dum, ba dum dum, ba dum dum.

“Not just anything. Everything.” He motions to the world around you, clogged with purple and grey smog at every turn and you turn to look, imagine cleansing the undercity of illness, debris, crime, and the harrowing desperation that haunts like a ghost. In the depths of your imaginings, you miss how, also, he gestures you and to himself. 

“Do you know what entropy is?”

You emerge for air when you can no longer keep yourself under. 

Break the surface and gasp, gasp, up at clementine sky, up at the low-hanging moon, lined up amongst the rising sun. 

“Entropy?”

The water pulls you under mid-breath. When all goes from a hazy dawn-hued yellow to a dark shroud, you swallow a mouthful of sea brine. Feel that the leg and heart still bind to you, resolutely and let yourself sink.

“It’s change.”

The water swallows you whole. Under the waves, past the fight, letting go comes easy, after all.

A set of hands grabbing you, pulling you to shore, shaking sense into you. What were you doing, what were you doing, they ask. 

Then they hold you, press you firm to themselves, as if you were sand through the sieve, so small and so prone to slipping. 

You imagine this, and imagine this still, as you float down, the sea rocks you back and forth as you descend, as if to sway you to sleep.

You can see him, now, under the ocean. See his face in the waves, breaking with light above you. 

Watch as he presses a matchstick to the wall and drags it along the rocky surface, watch as time seems to slow down, as you see the match bend under pressure, catch a spark against the limestone, then come away, red and ablaze, in Viktor’s hands.

“Entropy, irreversible change.”

When the sun breaks the horizon in tiny strips of light, you are alone and awash on the shore, half submerged in the water, on your hands and knees, gagging on the sea and oxygen. Collapse there. 

The sky is red, alight, and searing hot all around you. 

Water envelopes you in a teal puddle, coming and going with the waves. 

Washes away that fiery feeling in your limbs, in your leg, in your lungs, and still drumming heart. 

Washes away that fire, that fire, smoldering it, as it smokes and sputters, that fire, now only ash.

Putting it out does not reverse it, and you know this. 

Feel the sea kiss at your palms, turned downwards into sand and stones and shells. See how it shifts the world below you, little by little, one tiny tide at a time. 

And on that shore, leg intact, heart intact, you are alive. 

Only, alive. 

And love has changed you, irreversibly.

[bloodandthestars]

request please for ex!miguel o’hara x spiderwoman reader, they have lots of romantic history from a long time ago but never told anyone (secret relationship rahhh) and Miguel ended up ending things because he has too much trauma baggage even though they have so much love for one another… but forward to current day (like when miles arrives), they always argue mainly in spanish and seem to be sworn enemies but still f buddies .. they jus so complicated 😭 love ur work sm btw <3

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄

tags: angst. angst as hell. no spoilers! spanish speaking gn!reader

hello all! sorry, i had to deal w the brainrot that is making a spidersona. time to get back to writing miguel! i orginally saw this style of hcs and fic from @loganlermanstanaccount and wanted to try my hand at it. i did take most parts of this request and ran with it so whoops. a part two is possible however. thank you for your request, and i hope you enjoy, darling. AND TY FOR LOVING MY WORK <3

wc: 3k masterlist. credits to the artist, tbd.

You tap away at a few screens on your multi-dimensional device, walking with a crowd through the Spider Society. Another day through the labyrinth, another day to deal with a whirlwind of anomalies. Not to mention the unlimited number of Spider-Men who all need direction, and who better to carry that on his shoulders than your ex, Miguel O'Hara?

You were there since the beginning of the Spider Society through an ill-fated glitch. How Ironic, hm?

Miguel was in the middle of putting together his control center. His platform was being installed, all by his working hands.

Your arrival almost took his heart out of his chest— a whirl of colors splashing behind him not getting his attention until there was a loud *CRASH!*

He turns around, approaching the scattered heaps of documents and boxes of materials like a wary animal. White papers fell around your arching figure when he finally sees you.

You catch his eyes and he catches yours, causing him to lower the wrench that was tight in his grasp.

Jessica comes into the space, as do a few others that were starting recruits. “What the hell-? What happened, Miguel?”

“Miguel!” The second calling of his name catches his attention to Jessica. He looks to her then down to you.

You run your fingers through your hair, eyes unfocused to be swallowed in your thoughts. You continue on your way through the amalgamation of paths, twists and turns past many who do the same as you: stop the anomalies, putting the universe first. Those ideals were drilled in from the very beginning. Since you saw the effects of it firsthand, you were all for the cause.

Safe to say you were an easy addition to the team.

At first, you wanted to just find a way home. That’s what would come first. Miguel didn’t mind that. If you weren’t here to stay, then why bother with the insignificant?

That was until an emergency hit the infant spider society on all sides

Your ears were pierced with screams of fear as soon as you pushed through the portal. You looked around frantically at what you could through the rushing crowd. It was another version of Paris, with the Eiffel Tower replaced with a large monument made of stone. Not many places to attach webs in an open area. Shit.

Miguel barks out orders to the other two Spider-people on the scene. When his eyes look at you, they narrow. You immediately tense. Was it a fight you were preparing for? You didn’t have time to think about it when a device was thrown your way. You catch it with ease— an item to wear around your wrist.

And before he thwiped away you hear: “If you’re going to be here, you might as well be useful.”

You weren’t sure whether to take that as a vote of confidence or not— you go with not.

A version of the Goblin, made of some kind of glass crystal material. His hoverboard emitted light on himself that he uses to his advantage to blind others when they get close.

The searing white obstructed the vision of one Spider-person, causing them to misplace a step on the monument. Webs snap under the concrete they were trying to keep from falling. Your stomach turned— it was time for action.

Using your webs on the crumbling monument, you catapulted yourself to the solid rock. Webs sprouted from your capsules and slid under the concrete. Before the rock’s weight can take you down entirely, you shot out a web to the top of the monument and pulled as much as your strength could muster.

You could your veins pulse as you held on. People scattered as much as they can before the webs bounce under the heavyweight. A man tried to help his wife up from a broken ankle. If they didn’t move from the area, an ankle wouldn’t be the only thing that was broken. Or worse, and you couldn’t have that.

The tendrils of your webbing began to snap, maybe you could try to web more before it—

Red lining shoots out, going under the rock to give support. Miguel skid to a stop next to you, ordering through gritted teeth. “Go!”

You dove down from above, bouncing off the piece and webbing the couple’s backs. You gave a sharp pull. They whisk by and into your arms as you slide to a stop. Miguel can see there are no civilians in the way and let's go with a gasp of air.

Your eyes snapped to the piece of concrete as it falls. When it gets closer to the ground, you webbed over to it to break it to pieces— lessening its impact when it falls.

Within a second of catching your breath, Your gaze went back up to Miguel’s. He gave you a short nod. You returned it, pulling a web out to join the fight at the top of the monument.

From there, you’ve been a part of the team. Starting on small missions and quickly going from there.

Your wrist device lights up and captures your attention. Miguel’s unmasked face looks at you with a hardened look. “I’ll need your assistance with an anomaly case. You know where to go.”

And that’s exactly how he speaks to you now. Straight to the point, no time for idle chit-chat. You exhale through your nose. “Alright.”

Returning from the attack for the Goblin, You and Miguel caught your breath once the portal closed.

You glanced over to Noir and Jessica, who had the said anomaly tied and ready to be contained.

“You sure disco ball over there is secure?” You asked dusting off your suit. “Yes.” Miguel responded. “Good enough excuse to see how our holding pods will work.”

You gave a nod, looking off to see them take the Goblin away. You caught “Now as for adjustments…” from the voice next y to you and turn. You thought he was talking to you, but instead, he had a hand over his mouth. It took you a moment to realize what he was muttering to himself.

“¿Te balbuceas a tí mismo todo el tiempo?”

Miguel’s head snaps over to you with wide eyes. They turn slender in slight curiosity. “¿Hablas español?”

You gave him a light shrug, but the smirk on your face was evidence enough for him. You were close to tensing under his gaze— until he let out an amusement huff.

“¿Qué otras cosas guardas bajo la manga?”

“No te puedo revelar todos mis trucos, ¿o si?” You gave him a small smile.

He returned it.

Now, Miguel looks at you sternly before his image flickers out. You click your tongue, beginning to make your way to his control center.

You had dated for two years— entirely in secret, mind you.

There was the important cause for safety, but another excuse was simply because the seclusion suited you both.

As the day went by, you were two colleagues. Side by side on a mission, working with each other going off of a few glances.

If you desired to speak to only each other, you'd speak in Spanish. A passing compliment, a question on anomaly details, what to have for dinner that night. The world didn't exist then.

By night, a gentle hand would rest on Miguel’s shoulder, causing it to lose its built tension. In the quiet of the space, you’d whisper. “Let’s get some rest.”

At first, it would take some coaxing but as time went on, he would be by your side before you could get the words out.

Your place or his, it was a switch between the two. Either way, you’d feel the weight of his body sink into yours. All his exhaustion comes to fruition behind closed blinds.

Sometimes if it weighed too much, you’d fall onto the couch with your suits still on. If he had a bit of energy, you’d get out of them and then take loaded steps towards the bedroom.

Your favorite nights were when he fell asleep before you. A chuckle escapes your lips when you turn back, only to see him sound asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Gently, you’d brush his strands from his face, bathing in the rare sight that was a calm expression. The tips of your fingers graze the strong height of his cheek, lingering there as if to savor the moment a bit longer.

It was in these secluded moments that you’d pull the cover over his scarred back. Where you’d lay next to his larger figure, close but barely touching. Fingers grazing each other at best.

His struggles with opening up weren’t anything new to you. It took a lot of power to be vulnerable, to take that chance. So you took it one step at a time.

Those days weren’t long gone, however, you both made progress as time went by.

Fingers grazing each other became hand-holding. Hand holding then turned into him capturing your body in one swoop of his arm and securing you to his form.

And it was here you felt the most secluded. Because only you could see that neutral expression of sleep turn into a relaxed one. Where you could feel his need through the grip of his arm in the depths of the night, and not tell a soul.

He could have called anyone else. It's a proposition that only occurs to him after he makes communications with you. By the time you show up in his space, the idea is long forgotten.

Miguel turns around just in time to see you arrive. You lean your weight on your foot, hip out with a hand resting on it. “What’s the situation, O’Hara?”

O’Hara. He would have thought that sting would numb away by now.

You swing up to his platform, catching your landing out of the corner of his eye. With a few buttons pressed on the hologram, he swipes it in your direction without looking at you. “We got an anomaly on the move. Lyla’s attempting to track it now using the intel gathered.”

Your hand stops the hologram, opening it with your palm. In a gold hue, an image of a Mysterio lights up. A model of him spin for your view, some kind of blue flame for a head. Details of his face were in the fire, filled with an ego that seemed to span many universes.

“I remember this one.” You say, fingers swiping through logs. You stop at one, then push it in his direction. “Android from Earth 1610. Not his first time trying his hand at this.”

“You’ve been dealing with him before?” Miguel asks with sternness in his voice. He knew it was there and ever evident.

From your tone, it seems you caught it too. “From his glitch into a different universe. We returned him back to his own but it looks like he’s trying his hand at multiverse travel.”

The taller man scoffs, muttering under his breath. “Great.”

To no one’s surprise, you picked that up. Your voice grew in intensity. "What?”

Miguel finally turns around. With stern eyes, he looks at you and his stomach feels like it’s gotten hit with a ton of bricks. It’s exactly what he was afraid of, hence him never sparing you a glance when called to his station. It didn’t show on his face however, he wouldn’t allow it to.

“That means it could have gotten handled ages ago by simply sticking him somewhere he couldn’t get out.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “That was the beginning, we didn’t know any better. Now we do. It’s called growth, Miguel.”

He held the audacity to roll his eyes. You’re quick to speak. “We don’t expect them to become nuisances.”

“But it could’ve been avoided.”

“Of course, it could have. Emphasis on could. It’s just something we couldn’t predict.”

“Oh? Really?” A bit of edge appears in his voice again. “He’s a villain! It’s second nature!”

You take a step up to him, finger pointed in his direction. “We followed your protocol! You can’t predict everything, Miguel!”

You were there for the best parts

And you were there for…for the worst parts

The parts where in the thresholds of sleep, you swore you could hear him mutter her name, and his arm clutch around you even tighter.

The parts that were once fruitful moments of communication, ended in distance due to his growing anger.

The parts that held you both up at night, Miguel finding another thing to pick apart, to worry about, to enclose you from.

A picture of two you couldn't see. A toy box collecting dust in his apartment closet.

You were there…till the very end.

“Miguel, I just don’t understand why this is an issue.” You hold the bridge of your nose before letting go and addressing him with unwavering eyes. “Noir says you’ve been at this for months, we have a lead-”

“Into a universe that is on the brink of collapsing!” “That’s why the anomaly would go! To hide in plain sight of a possible disaster!”

“No, absolutely not.” Miguel shook his head, already final in his mind. “One wrong move and you’ll end up like-” It was like all the color drained from his face.

“Like who, Miguel?”

Your question stopped him cold, hard eyes glancing at you. “You know who.”

He pushed away the thought of you hearing him in his sleep when the sun comes up. But deep down he always knew. He always knew that you knew something was going on with him. And he could see that you were trying so *hard* to be patient with him.

With every frustrated huff to end the conversation, every turn away from you, you were unmoving. Waiting. Giving him all the time in the world that deep down, he knew he didn’t deserve.

This conversation ends like the others, with a clenched jaw wanting to spill out everything he can but never finding the words to do so. Leaving you there in the dead silence where you feel the most alone.

You shut your eyes, trying not to waste any more tears on another fruitless conversation. A sigh slips past your lips. “I can’t keep doing this, Miguel.”

His head looks back to you with wide eyes. Those eyes slowly narrow, with words coming out like the very venom he creates. “Then leave.”

Those words still pierce your heart as if it was yesterday. You shut your eyes, shaking your head to push the familiar feelings from bubbling in your chest. Even with the attempt of calm, he persisted.

“No. I can’t.” He sounded like he was just saying it just to say it. “But I sure as hell can prevent potentially dangerous messes from coming back— like this one!”

Emotion erupts inside you all over again, breaking what little restraint you put together. Like a twig snapped under the slightest edge of pressure. You fell into that same routine all over again. “You’re being completely unreasonable to the people who-"

He held the bridge of his nose, voice not losing its hard edge. “Do you remotely have an idea of how many anomalies have to be taken care of in a week? In a day? When I want something taken care of, I expect it to be.”

“You’re always expecting perfection, some kind of straight path you can control. Is that why you got rid of me-?”

Your gasp quickly stops you from speaking further— but it was already too late. Miguel’s eyes snap up to you, wide at your exclamation. You place a hand over your mouth with panicked eyes. The silence was what made it worse, feel it wrap around your neck and cause a hard, painful lump in your throat. You know he watches as you turn away from him.

“Then leave.” Those words still plague his mind as if it was yesterday. As if he didn’t have enough piling onto his shoulders, he had to go and lose you too. The one thing that—some days—was keeping that very mind together.

Something aches within him. His heart grows heavy in its weight. He turns his head, closing his eyes to take a breath. Many things haunted him, whether it be his own failings or the atrocities he’s seen throughout dimensions. He didn’t expect to, nor never wanted to add you to the list. You became another person that slipped from his fingertips.

You take a deep breath, wiping your face with a shaky hand. When you turn back, he’s collected himself. His gaze was now devoid of frustration as it was set upon you. Instead, it was filled with something else, something different. You exhale to make your brain know to say something. Miguel parts his lips. In a soft mutter you begin to recognize, he says. “I didn’t get-"

Your senses go off, turning your body away from his to see Peter B. and one of Jessica’s come around the corner. Your eyes remain on them, forcing themselves onto them. You calm your breathing with a hard swallow. Miguel felt something twist in his stomach once you turn away. A heaviness weighed at his tongue, lips still parted for what he wanted to tell you. But you had eyes on you now, curious looks that could grow into something more if he didn’t follow your lead.

He blinks a few times, turning to face the other two Spider-people with a locked jaws. How’d he’d be able to speak with his throat feeling non-existent was a feat in itself. Your eyes are kept to the ground until you take a deep breath. They raise, your feelings being pushed down once again. And you stand next to each other, with what felt like a world’s distance between you, miraged by only a couple feet.

taglist: @manchuria @kokomaii @rea-zxv @vvitcxen @pooiooi @jowtaro @miguelsfangs @vegas-writing-den @m150-50up

“¿te balbuceas a tí mismo todo el tiempo?” — you mumble to yourself like that all the time?

“¿hablas español?” — you speak spanish?

“¿qué otras cosas guardas bajo la manga?” — just what else do you have up your sleeve?

“No te puedo revelar todos mis trucos, ¿o si?” — I can’t just reveal all my tricks to you, now can I?

[mollywog]

Everlark Executioner AU inspired by this post

Read on Ao3

Had the messenger arrived a day earlier, he would have been greeted by a yellow flag above our door, and had to turn back, summons undelivered.

The odds, however, are not in my favor.

My sister, having been ill the week prior, had quarantined us both at home. She hadn’t been fearfully sick, just unwilling to put her patients at risk. The flag hadn’t prohibited me from hunting alone but it had kept the townspeople and duties away for a spell.

I should have known my temporary reprieve would need repaid in spades.

So as my luck would have it, there's no obstacle to the trembling messenger boy delivering the summons. It seems my services are needed for a midnight hanging.

I am an executioner by chance, not choice. Well that’s not exactly true.

Though the Capital acts as judge and jury, the districts must supply the hangman. And because no one willingly seeks the position, about once a generation, they hold a ceremony to select a new one. They call it a reaping: someone’s idea of a joke. Haymitch Abernathy’s name had been drawn twenty odd years ago after the previous executioner had disappeared into the wild, never to be seen again. Haymitch should have been it for another decade or so, but he’d given everyone a scare two years back when he fell off his horse and into a coma for a week. He came to no worse for the wear but the district officials decided he needed an apprentice lest they discover him face down in a ditch with no one to measure their next noose. My name had not been called, but my sister’s had.

I ‘volunteered’ to take her place, but there was really never a choice in it. She never would’ve survived the social isolation let alone the job requirements.

After that my sister and I moved to the far edge of the District near the woods. It’s better not to know the condemned or subject the town to my presence. Most people know the proper direction of their anger, most don’t blame the executioner, but they still avert their gaze and hold their children tighter to their chest as I pass.

My sister, Primrose, on the other hand, is universally admired; a born healer in a place where there are few and the need is great. If I keep myself scarce, they still seek her out for treatments.

Prim is somber as she hands my satchel up to me. She’s used to hearing news from town ahead of time but with our week sequestered, we know nothing of who I may face. But Midnight hangings are reserved for the most deprived criminals,so I’ll take solace that the wearer of my necklace will be worthy of it.

The hanging tree mars the district skyline. It looms ominously over the landscape, growing as I approach the center of town.

The fog thins as I arrive at the tree, a noose is already in place as invitation to the crowd. The messenger this morning claimed the hangman was indisposed, but Haymitch has at least prepared that much before absconding into his bottle; He will have taken into account the wearer’s height and weight when selecting the rope's gauge and length: I inspect his work. Likely a man: Average height, but well fed. I release a breath: no chance it will be a child today.

In the Justice building I check in with the clerk and settle in a seat. Dropping my head back, I close my eyes, pretending to nap, lest someone try to speak to me. I hear fragments of the gossip: three murdered.. a fire… caught red-handed. At least this time my nightmares will revolve around the condemned’s actions and not my own.

Time crawls by. The growing clamor outside is my cue that the time is nearing and I shrug on the executioner's robe, rubbing my sweaty palms down the fabric at the thighs. The hood isn’t necessary, Haymitch gave it up years ago, everyone knows who we are, but I flip the material over my head anyways. If only it could shield me from my conscience.

I had always assumed Haymitch drank because he didn’t care. Now I know it’s the opposite; he drinks because he can’t help caring. I refuse to fall victim to the bottle, it doesn’t solve the guilt, I suppose nothing will, but there are other ways to live with myself.

I take the dose of elixer Prim packed with enough time for the herbs to take effect, making me feel hollow enough to perform the job, but as I exit the Justice building, I'm immediately on edge despite the tonic

Something’s not right.

Through the numbness I can feel the stilted weight of the crowd. The low simmering of discontent is unexpected. With the allegations, I’d expected eagerness if not indifference.

I take my place on the platform. The mayor nods in my direction distractedly.

Head Peacekeeper, Thread, emerges from the prison, two uniformed men in tow, dragging the limping convict. His head is bent, obstructing my view of his face, but I take in the broad shoulders and yellow hair. Another surprise. The man I am to execute is from the merchant side of town, where most have the means to survive without breaking the laws or bribe the Peacekeepers into turning a blind eye.

The man is placed beside me and I discreetly peer around my hood for a better look. The name registers right before it is spoken. My stomach drops.

Peeta Mellark

Oh, no. Not him. No, the odds are not in my favor today.

Why him? I think. Then I try to convince myself it doesn’t matter. Peeta Mellark and I are not friends. Not even neighbors. We don’t speak. Our only real interaction happened years ago. He’s probably forgotten it. But I haven’t and I know I never will.

At eleven and in my lowest moment a boy had risked a beating to give me two loaves of hardy bread. The loaves and the hope it provided saved my life. I haven’t yet found the courage to thank him, and now I never will I think as I stare at the boy with the bread’s limp form.

I’ve broken into a sweat despite the chilled breeze. The Mayor reads the charges, but I hear nothing except a buzzing in my ears.

I’m fighting through a violet haze to make sense of my dilemma. I cannot kill this man, but refusal to do so will earn me a spot swinging beside him. Damn Haymitch! This should have been his problem, and I could have wiped my hands clean if Peeta Mellark. But no, that’s not right either. My debt and his death would haunt me for the rest of my miserable life. Besides, something in my gut tells me I am meant to be here, that there’s still yet something I can do.

A single word floats to the top of my memory.

“Nightlock,” I murmur, no more than a whisper, but it’s enough for the mayor to pause his reading. In the years of my apprenticeship it was only mentioned once. Haymitch had been drunk. Much drunker than usual when he’d discussed a small list of extenuating circumstances and loopholes. When I’d pressed him for more, he’d told me to ‘forget it’ before shattering a bottle and demanding I leave. I had left, but not before hearing him break down in sobs. I’d seen him in all forms of drunk, but never so much as to weep. So, of course, the word was immediately, irrevocably branded into my brain.

“Excuse me?” The Mayor interrupts my muddled memories.

“Nightlock,” I state more firmly.

At the sound of my voice Peeta lifts his head and sways on his feet. The motion reveals what his hair has concealed; a lump, angry and purple over his eye. He’s likely concussed.

There is a mixed reaction among the crowd at my outcry: mostly confusion, but some of the older spectators understand the implications of what I have said and begin whispering among the crowd. The Mayor mops his brow, his pained expression cautiously hopeful, “Do you wish to enact the nightlock clause Ms Everdeen?”

“I do” my voice sounds foreign to me; More fierce and decisive than my foggy mind.

“And Mr Mellark do you accept?” I grasp his arm urging him to stand straighter, supporting him under my shoulders. “Trust me,” I whisper. He has no reason to believe me, but I suppose it doesn’t matter; his only other option is the dangling rope.

His mouth twitches in something of a grin. It can only be a reflex though, I’m surprised he’s lucid enough to slur out, “I do,” and when he does, I’m uncertain whether it’s in response to the mayor or in answer to my plea.

Either way he’s said the words; The ones that will save him from the gallows and bind him to a new fate

“Then I now pronounce you man and wife,” The Mayor’s voice booms over the crowd. “Congratulations Mr Mellark, you’ve been granted a pardon.”

The Hanging Tree Series

[mah-t-wordblog]

can you make a modern au fic lee muichrio ler gyokko???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? thanks

Hehe there it is!!!! 💛💛 hope u like

The Oni of the Vase

Lee: Muichiro Tokito

Ler: Gyokko

(Kimetsu academy universe)

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Ships: NONE

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, if you don’t like it, just scroll down

This fanfic is originally in Portuguese, my English is translated using an automatic translator, if there are any big errors you can tell me so I can fix them

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Muichiro was walking normally through the halls of Kimetsu academy, he was heading towards the cafeteria to find Yuichiro

As he passed by the laboratory, he heard something approaching from behind, as his instincts are very fast and sharp, he soon turned to see what it was

But he saw nothing, just a vase of plant

He thought it was normal and kept walking, until he heard the same noise, when he turned around, he was sure that the pot had moved

Muichiro sighed

"Let's go, you must be one of those demons that the school talks so much about, huh? You can show up, I'm not afraid of you”

The vase moved again

“Let's go, I already kicked the other one” Muichiro had already met another demon at school, and kicked it so hard that he made a giant lump on the creature's head

The vase moved, but this time something unexpected happened, a very ugly creature came out of it

It had eyes instead of mouths and mouths instead of eyes, it looked like a snake mixed with a fish, full of scales and it smelled like fish

“Hyu! Hyu! Hello, young man! I see you were looking at my art” the creature said

“No, I was n-“

“My name is Gyokko” the oni interrupted him “and I make these wonderful, incredible and beautiful vases, what do you think?”

Muichiro looked at the ceramic piece and shrugged “cool”

He prepared to continue on his way, but Gyokko teleported close to him and held him

“Look closely! You didn't even look!”

Muichiro looked at the vase again “it’s a little crooked”

Gyokko gasped “WHAT?”

“Here” Muichiro pointed to one side of the vase “it’s crooked. I didn’t like it”

“Argh! You idiot! I’m going to- I” Gyokko growled

“What are you going to do, ugly demon?” The boy faced him

“Do what I do to those who ignore or speak ill of my art, hyu! Hyu!”

Gyokko quickly grabbed both of Muichiro’s arms, the boy got scared and started to struggle

“Let go of me you piece of shit!” The boy cursed

“Ah! What a dirty mouth, hyu! Hyu! You won’t curse me anymore when I do this”

About ten more hands appeared from the creature’s body, which stretched out and began to squeeze Muichiro’s body

The boy started to laugh, he couldn’t hold back, there were hands on his sides, ribs, armpits, everywhere, under and over his clothes

“Never ignore me again! Never! You will suffer my horrible tickle torture forever! Hyu! Hyu!”

“NOHOHOHOHO” Muichiro tried to kick him, but his elastic body dodged him “HEHEHEHEHELP HEHEHEHEHEHELP”

The boy was almost crying and couldn’t take it anymore, this was too much for him

“Nobody is going to help-”

“Hey, you stinker!”

Gyokko felt a rock or something hard hit his head

“Ouch!”

“Let go of my brother!” Yuuichiro jumped close to the two and kicked the creature, which made him let go of Muichiro and complain in pain

“Come back here you pests!”

Yuichiro ran with Muichiro until they lost the oni

“Ah, what was that, Muichiro?”

“I don’t know! He was so ugly”

The two looked at each other and started laughing

“Let’s tell the principal about this” Muichiro said, as the two started walking again

“Yeah, before any more students die from so many tickles, if I hadn’t arrived you would be dead”

The older one nudged his brother

“Hey stop!” Muichiro laughed

Gyokko hid in his vase again, waiting for someone to pass by

And if his next victim didn’t pay attention to his art, poor guy, he had no idea what was coming

❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡

Hehe I liked writing that one 💛💛

[black-dhalias]

Questionable Decisions

Love Triangle!Caius X Reader X Mate!Alec

This was requested by: @princessofthornsandroses

WARNING: Implied SMUT/Nudity, mentions of plague and illness, mentions of violence. AN: I know this has taken a lot longer than anticipated, but I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

~•~•~•~• ALEC •~•~•~•~

Your initial arrival at Volterra sparked quite the controversy amongst the Guards, they could not understand how you earned immortality. Could not fathom what good you brought to the Guard, but Lord Caius found you fascinating. Even as a human.

Before here, you knew nothing more than poverty and loss—stricken with grief and a need for vengeance. You were barely staying afloat, family ravaged by the sickness and death.

Now, you are a long standing member—not a necessary component, but you kept Lord Caius less cruel. Busy. That was necessary enough. He practically doted on you from the get go—and it drove Alec crazy.

Comparatively, Alec didn’t want to keep his distance from you—didn’t want to be away from you at all, but Lord Caius held the stronger hand. Cards on the table, Alec didn’t stand a chance and that infuriated him.

So the distance remained, it only served to push you closer to Caius; unbeknownst to you, deep down you knew you shouldn’t remain at his side. But he saved you. Turned you. Protected you. And you won’t lie, you enjoy the affection he gives. He would burn the world down if it meant you were happy. Kill anyone if you asked, without a single question.

That kind of devotion—it’s addictive.

In the same way, you were adamantly and unshakably loyal to him. Betrayal was unthinkable, and that sensation is what drove you two together. Absolute devotion. Even his wife, his trophy that sits in the tower, could not fathom it.

The grand doors open to reveal you to the throne room, burning the room with a cataclysmic grin. One that sends shockwaves through Alec, sets him on fire without a single touch. Painfully aware of you, struck with pique interest. Both healed and hurt by your presence.

“Y/N…” Your name rolls off Caius tongue, even sung by the worst of men—it sounds like a choir of angels. Alec cannot help, but wonder how you would say his name; would it wash over him? Would he be able to fight the urge to take you into his arms, leave this castle with you tucked away from Caius. Where Alec does not have to wonder what happens when the palace turns dark.

Alec would never worry again.

Faster than a blink, you are beside Caius without another word—smiling at him with perfect contentment. The eldest twin averts his eyes, the tiles had become a sanctuary away from the image of you.

If this is love, then Alec surrenders himself to the ache and burn. The Volturi has many rules, but one is absolute—what belongs to the Kings, is theirs alone.

Do you even realize you belong to Lord Caius? Do you care? Alec is sure you do, because that’s just how it is.

Alec pines after you in the silence that follows your departure with Lord Caius—if he knew physical pain, he imagines it would feel like this. Knee buckling and raw, like the universe has given him a burden too heavy for him to carry.

At the same time, he would carry that same burden from today until the end of time—so long as you are there. Maybe that’s too much to ask of forever, but it’s the only way eternity sounds nice. Alec couldn’t imagine a world without you, or a Volterra empty of your presence.

So the ache shall remain. A cruel, and heavy reminder that you have chosen Caius at every crossroad. So why would today, or tomorrow, be any different?

“Dearest Alexander…” His eyes rise to meet Aro’s, trying to push down the invading thoughts of you. Particularly his wild imagination and hope, wishes for you to choose him. The King flicks his hand out, flexing his fingers and while Alec fully knows Aro will know.

Somehow the eldest twin wishes that he could silence the thoughts, as he places his palm into Aro’s. Subverting his gaze to elsewhere as the King picks through his mind— “How very curious?” Alec looks up at him, lips tightly together as he shoulders his burden more pressing. “Have you always felt like this?”

However, Alec doesn’t need to respond—in fact, he unconsciously recalls how he completely froze the first time. How he saw you, and that was it… The feared Volturi guard had become a servant to your complexities—and you didn’t even know.

“Fascinating.” Aro drops his hand and Alec tucks it protectively behind his back, folding it into his other hand. “Not very many can withhold their affections, especially our kind.” Aro would have been whispering, like a hushed venomous tongue—which makes Alec’s stomach twist.

“I handle myself just fine.”

The Volturi king hmmms, almost as if he knows something that Alec does not--which is more frustrating than the king just ripping off the bandaid. Leaving the guard to his own struggles, the ache that he is certain will last forever.

That is the burden of knowing that you can not have what you want, and you are not willing to take the step. That is how Alec feels, and he will never be able to change that. To play this game, it has always been a losing game--one that he is going to continue regardless of what is to come.

Bowing his hand, he keeps that hand protectively tucked behind him and sets aside his own desires to take his leave.

In the same breath that he exhales, your scent--allusive and alluring, it is hanging on the air and clings to Alec in a manner that he did not expect.

You were addictive. An ever dangling desire, and it just happens that you leave right here--and he'll never be rid of you. Not so long as you belong to Caius.

"Alec-" He pauses, heading adjusting and glancing back just enough to show that he is listening to Aro. "Remember your place." He did not need a reminder of his place, and so he leaves. Well into Volterra, far away from everyone who could hurt him. Honestly, the list is short, with only one name at the top.

~•~•~•~• CAIUS •~•~•~•~

Once the throne room is out of range, Caius pulls you into his arm with a smile only you can match. To be with you is surreal, like water meeting the coast—you tore through each other similarly as well. A dangerous and catastrophic insanity, one that gave him just enough of a challenge to sate his desire.

To be fair, you were not his mate, but you were something more desirable to him. More challenging and unknown—you were the one that set the room on fire rather than calm the flames, then you would dance as the smoke embraced the stone. That is what made Caius so devote, you were the religion he could not shake. The hymn that he sang, your name dancing off his tongue as his hands grab at your hungrily.

The way your lips curl into a smirk beneath the kiss, he could only describe them as a scripture.

Is that not a religion? Something or someone so divine, that the fact that the grace you with their presence is enough to send you over the edge. Confuse the mind, and the intuition, change the way the brain processes information. In fairness, he held the same chokehold over you, but you were much younger. Much newer to this life, sired to him through blood and venom.

That is why he seemed so much more enamored than you, because no one believed he was capable of that kind of feelings. When it is all said and done, he was completely and irrevocably wrapped up in you. In everything you are.

No one would ever say anything less than ideal, never whisper anything Caius might here—feared you, just as they feared Caius. When your bodies fell through the doors and limbs tangled up, hair falling in whisps together. A blend of shades that meld on the sheets as he embraces your form as close to the mattress as he can.

You lean into the touch, cupping the back of his neck with the sensation of the soft blonde strands wrapping up at the base of your fingers. Vampires did not need air, but you were the breath that Caius needed to survive and that was enough.

Clothes had become nothing more than a barrier between bodies, that's the thought that crosses Caius' mind as he finally begins ripping through the barriers. He can hardly contain the urgency—the needy touch of your fingers enough assurance as you tear through his shirt. Another to the pile of ruins clothes.

While Caius tended to take his time, stripping away every layer and admiring how your body seemed to exist—you cared far less, and needing him as a human needs water. Buried in the sensation of Caius, of the certainty that comes with being in this bed. Nothing made more sense to Caius than the scripture of moans you release at every touch, the tickle of breath against your ear.

You are intoxicating to him. Not a drug or drink, but a fix nonetheless—something that he could not go without.

"To have you like this, I know no greater treasure." His words taste of that same certainty, you like the idea of knowing you are safe at his side. He is protection, a shield from the horrors you once knew. He would burn the world to see you bare beneath him as you are now.

The way your back curves up as you tug yourself forward, his hand at the small of your back—just still as he sees your lips move to form a word. "So long as you swear to take me as I am."

His lips twist into a smile, just briefly Caius is reminded that you are his match in every way. You were just as brutal and cruel, just as vengeful—filled with ugly scars and he loved every piece. He would admire the sharp and angled edges of your soul, knowing only how much he needed you day to day.

"Whether sun or moon—" He intertwined his fingers into yours, lowering your body, but never separating from you entirely. Lips inches apart until your back is against the mattress, and you feel him nearing you. So close. "I would take you regardless, steal you away from all the jealousies of the world." Caius seemed to recite poetry, the words rolling off his tongue every time you were near. Was that infatuation? Love? Devotion? Whatever your influence is, it is is stronger than any other desire—he would choose you before anything else.

Under the careful protection of these walls, with only the stone to hear your confessions—here in these rooms. You fear nothing, and know only pleasure and satisfaction.

~•~•~•~• YOU •~•~•~•~

In due time, you find yourself leaving the King’s room—door clicking back into place roughly as you turn around. In your distraction, the halls had become expansive and barren. While the Volterra was never quite quiet, it is during the early hours of the evening that the palace is the most empty. The Kings having retired to their sanctuary’s, and the guard to either their posts or rooms.

You had thought you would do the same, go to your rooms and wait for time to take its toll on the night. Not much to do beyond that. Some of the guard could leave into the city when the moon was high and the sky dark, but you—it was out of the question.

However, listening to the steps ringing off the stone floors—you find a rhythm in the steps. The sound seems to echo off the walls, and create a symphony of music... But then it is quiet and you are still. Reminded of a life you lost, and a world that you are no longer a part of—could you grieve any longer?

The way the air catches despite not being needed, its like your ache manifested physically. How could you be sure? While the certainty is nice, the rest is less than desired—you are a prisoner of circumstance. Your devotion seemed to make it more complicated, Caius is simply that—you rationalize you do not know love. You have never felt that, only know the poisonous poetry Caius sang every night. He held that power over you just as any king does his subject, maybe he believes he needs you the same way you feel you need him.

A hum of song, the hymns of piano notes dance through the air and you hesitate. You have to go this way regardless, to your rooms—so you continue along.

Its like heaven is touching earth, the music coming to an epic crescendo just as you pass the ajar door. You bite down on the inside of your cheek and glance towards your door, your room is only three doors down. It is close. You could just ignore the music and walk away without ever wondering, but you peek inside. You satisfy your curiosity and become even more intrigued—Alec.

You watch how his fingers glide across the keys, he does not hesitate or even seem to need music sheet. It is as effortless as you walking into the room, the way your feet carry you before you ever form a coherent thought. It was that easy.

If someone asked for the moment you knew, it was then—the way you couldn't tear your eyes away. Only interrupted as he abruptly stops, fingers hovering over the keys as you sit beside him. Wordlessly and ask nothing, except to be near him. Just for a second.

"Please keep playing..." Your words are like an electric current running through him, you note how his chest moves—inhaling and exhaling, eyes glancing at you only briefly. If you were not watching him with such care, you never would have noticed.

"Okay." The way his voice tremors on the second syllable, it is not broken, but woven in the same grief. It is familiar to you. When you want something, but have been denied it for far too long.

So he continues to play and you listen, only knowing the way your lungs fill with air. How your eyes close and feel the sensation of freedom, imagining yourself far away from Volterra. Once you wanted safety, but that safety has become a prison of gold. A royal palace of bars.

Could you live with yourself if you stayed another day? Yes, because you would be alive. However, a piece of you dies with every breath you take within this walls.

The notes carry you away and you fear nothing for a second, you see a tavern filled with laughter. Perhaps a symphony, or opera. Perhaps you see France, or the Americas... You always wanted to see the city. You've lived centuries and never seen a skyscraper.

Alec shifts on the long bench, eyes shift to see you with your eyes closed—admiring you, losing track of the notes until he embraces the confusion. Embracing you close and tucking his hand behind your head, just watching you with a very new certainty. One that is not made of stone, but seems to radiate the certainty of the sun. Your eyes widen, but settle almost in the same half second.

"What are you doing Alec?"

"Asking if I can kiss you—just this once, so I can know what it is I let slip through my fingers." Is that the difference? Of being a treasure versus being everything. Caius has everything and you are another treasure in his trove, but as Alec eyes you—it is as if you are everything to him.

"Only once..." You lean in, whispering the words.

"Just once." He whispers breathlessly, his touch is not urgent, but it is deliberate as if he aims to remember every sensation. Your arms wrap around his neck, and fall into him—he does not come up for air, but separates your lips from his. You feel the warmth of breath against your lips, "I would pay any price to do that again."

.

.

.

Devotion. That is what got you into this mess so long ago, and in the same strain, it is what binds you to promises. Leaves you sitting in the dark of your rooms for a day and night, burying the thought of Alec deep in your chest. Yet his eyes, although the same ruby shade manifest and stir something deep within you.

For those seconds, after he hushed himself and just held you. You could see forever in the ruby irises, imagined a greater eon than sitting idly as a treasure. You see a home, tucked away in the mountains, the green of trees hiding you away and the song of the birds to comfort you through the doubt. Through the fear.

You rarely felt fear since being turned, but Alec stirred that feeling up and intertwined it with every hope. Every dream and thought, seemed to be veiled by the fear that someone can take that away. As swiftly as you found it.

You tuck your knees up to your chest, sitting in the window seat—thick curtains of red behind you as you glance around the courtyard. You are not a guard, but a servant. That word seemed to hang onto your memory of Caius, of how you were there—hopelessly devoted to him.

No one touches what belongs to the kings, but Alec did—and it reminded you of your first day in the Volterra.

You tremor beneath the heavy duvets of your clothes, breath caught up in your throat and tied into a knot. You had watched your entire family die of plague, one by one and someone seemed to skirt by without ever tasting the bitter taste of the disease. You were left unscathed and that burned you even deeper than before.

"Stay here." The thing hisses, the haunting eyes of red seem to glue you into place as your heart beats ferociously in your chest. You have become a slave to your fear and terror, practically certain that you are going to die here. Even as the monster disappears behind a door, you are greeted with another.

You stumble back, but their cool hands grasp you and hold you upright with the softest of smiles. "Its okay." And you believe him—how could you believe him? You weren't stupid, but somehow you trusted him more than the others.

"Are you sure?" He nods, your lips purse together and you wrap your arms around you as a shield. Just wishing that you understood what was happening, but you just don't. You are stuck. Completely locked in place. You see the hesitation as he reaches out, but he does and places a hand on your forearm and rubs a soft round of circles in your skin. He does not hurt. He does not move too fast. He just watches, before speaking.

"You're safe here." There is a human veil of gray hanging over the memories, but you are certain—the first to show you kindness and comfort, had dark hair that curls close to the head.

You had twisted the memory, made Caius into your comfort for saving you, but it was Alec you made you feel safe. He was the last sense of human safety you ever felt, and it bonded you tightly to that misguided protection. How did you forget?

When the day turns to night, you rise from your position and feel the burning sensation of urgency. Different than you ever remember it feeling, and for the first time in a century, it is for more than Caius. It is for yourself, what you want... That is enough to send you running through the halls, certain of only one thing.

One person.

Of the love you know you can learn from Alec.

"I'm leaving." You announce rather abruptly, entering the throne room with a presence that is unfamiliar to most of them. You seem to dominate the space with your voice, standing taller than ever before.

"What?" The blonde king snarls, rising from his throne and while anyone else would cower—you stand a little taller.

"I. Am. Leaving." The words break through the walls of his affection and suddenly he is in front of you, practically nose to nose.

"You will do no such thing. You sound ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is you thinking that's going to make me stay." You do not think there is a thing he could say to keep you here for another day.

"I can make you do whatever I want." He roughly grabs your arm, and while it does not shake you—Alec moves to your side, pushing Caius off. His eyes widening as he realizes exactly what he just did, and tries to stand as tall as you. Caius seems to grow crueler.

"Do it. Command me to stay and I'll hate you forever." That seems to cause something in Caius to falter, even in front of the other kings and the guard. He couldn't imagine you hating him. Hated the idea. You were so much more than anything Caius has ever been.

"Why now?"

"Because I have something, found the one thing I needed." Your eyes glance over at Alec, he follows your lead. He would follow you anywhere, but he doesn't have a clue what you are going to do next. You look back at Caius. "And I need to figure out what it means."

Everyone expects Caius to kill you both where you stand, Jane's fist clenched as she watches and tries to ground herself away from here. A stupid thing.

"Then go." He does not go back to throne, but walks out of the throne room, door slamming behind him. He is gone just like that, and you swallow. Suddenly not as afraid, but just as certain. Your eyes flicker up to Alec, edging closer until you take his hand. Without a word, you leave with him and walk until you are out of Volterra and deep in the countryside. Just you, him, and the stars.

You were still strangers in many ways.

"What now?" There is no waiver in his voice as there was at the piano, he does not seem as unsure. His grasp on your hand tightening as if it is a lifeline.

"We'll go anywhere." When you look into his eyes, a soulmate you almost lost—one that you almost let go. "But we do it together."