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jimlingss · 4 years ago

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Moirai [1]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

➜ Words: 5.8k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

➜ Notes: Isekai is a popular manga and light novel genre in which characters from Earth are transported into a new world.

This is the end. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The Prince stands tall, the very furrow of his brows jarring against the cold, cordial expression he maintains — the one she had always tried to shatter. All she desired was something other than courtesy. If not affection then frustration or misery. But she supposes that anger suffices. Anger. The first time he’s ever looked at her with an ounce of any true feeling. His shadow looms over her, his status powerful as the countless eyes are narrowed in around her — he is as powerful as the people who stand behind him. Every word he speaks booms through the ballroom, a grand timbre that has long replaced the mellifluous violins. The Prince is as noble as he is righteous. He is the hero of this story. “You choose to answer your crimes with silence?!” The corner of her lips curl and cackles rasp from her throat. The noise is discordant and shrill, a mocking irony when it causes him to pull the woman in his arms closer. Even when she’s in this position, downcast head, knees burnt on the carpet, all she does is drive them closer together. “The only sins I have ever committed was loving you until my last breath.” “Guards!” Murmurs spark across the room and the knights armour clank as they approach in heavy steps. She knows these are the last moments. “The only crime I have is looking out for the empire! But you chose her.” She looks upon the girl he holds, the one who has the same contempt on her visage. And as the knights rip her away from her place, she spits venom-laced words, “A lowly baron’s adopted daughter to make your wife. I am the duke’s daughter. I am educated. I am your fiancée—” “No longer.” He condemns, “You have committed treason. Conspiracy against the crown. Attempted murder. Forgery. Harassment. Using your status to oppress the vulnerable—” “Let go of me!” she shrieks as the guards drag her down the room. It’s undignified. Degrading. “—Daring to entangle yourself with the dark arts. And you will answer to these crimes whether you choose to confess or not.” “Let go of me!” she struggles, yet no one chooses to hear. Their eyes have pierced into her, those who aren’t scandalized are snickering behind their feathered fans. But in the last seconds, status has no place. She looks to the person who matters most, the one she had spent her childhood idolizing. Her beliefs hold true. He will make a great ruler. But she will never be the one to stand beside him. She knows now. That position has long been stolen away from her. “Everything I did,” she cries, “I did for yo—” The grand doors slam shut with her pitched screams resounding. Moments later, the lively music continues, violins and trumpets crescendoing to life once more. As if her life had just not been taken away from her. As if the denunciation was merely an intermission of tonight’s festivities. Her heinous exterior is shattered by tears that no one would have sympathy for. She is limp when she is thrown into the stone jail cell within the depths of the castle. The knights twist on their heel and she is surrounded in pitch darkness with the sound of a scurrying rat echoing beside her. The only time there is light is by the dim flame of the torch, a guard accompanying a frightened servant who carries a bowl of spoiled oats. It’s not enough to satisfy the grumble of her stomach, but enough to keep her alive for the execution day. Without a silver fork or spoon in hand, a handkerchief placed in her lap, seated by a candlelit table, she resorts to using her fingers to scoop the food into her mouth. Sometimes, she thinks they forget about her. Or perhaps time is simply drawn in darkness. A second made into a minute. A minute is an hour. She is merely left leaning against the molded stone, wasted away and drunk on memories of better places. Punishment does not come in the form of her stripped title or even her head rolling away from her neck. Punishment arrives in the darkened loneliness. That loss of sanity that whisper she has failed to capture the attention of the only person she ever loved. That she failed to make him love her. Everything she did, it drove him away. Every act of love placed distance between them. Everything. Liberation comes back with the music of trumpets muffled by the stone walls. “What’s going on?” her voice is hoarse through her parched throat. The servant screams when her arm reaches past the bars to tug on the girl’s dress. Her eyes are bleary as she looks up at the girl. “Why is it so noisy?” “T-The civil war’s over.” The girl backs away and the celebrations become more distinct with the realization. “The villain is dead.” The girl withdraws into the cell and cackles rip through her lungs, resounding across the empty chambers. The servant scurries away as the knight huffs out through his nose and shakes his head. But it’s the best news she’s received since she’s been stowed away. And a smile still graces her features when she is dragged out and jostled by the knights, taken up to where the sun blinds her vision. “On the eve of the Solar Festival, we rid our empire of yet another villain and free it from treachery!” There are cacophonous cheers in the crowd. Her eyes are hurt by the sunlight and she shuts them tight. Her legs are kicked and she’s knocked onto her knees, head being shoved against wood. She wishes she didn’t have to face the sun rays. There’s no decency to give her shade. But the discomfort is over by the blade slicing through the air. She lives and both dies as the villainess — an inevitable legacy. ❇ End of Royal Romances Chapter 7 -Prince Route- ❇

Headbeams. Fuck. You never thought it would be like all those cheesy movies — the third Batman film, Grey’s Anatomy, the Simpsons, hell even Attack on Titan. But nope. They’re right. Time really does slow and your life really does flash by your eyes when you’re in the moment of your death. But instead of feeling grief for yourself, all you can think about is what an absolute idiot you are. You really shouldn’t have jaywalked at night. That cheesecake in the fridge was supposed to be yours! And holy shit, your parents are going to be really fucking mad that you died at only twenty— The truck slams into you before you can finish your thought. …………... ……….. ……. ….. ... .. . Strangely, it doesn’t hurt. Maybe because it happened so fast. Maybe the initial impact was already enough to end your life. But you’re left feeling an empty void inside of yourself. An overwhelming agony that this is the end. That you never got the chance to fulfill your dreams, enjoy the fruits of your labour, that you never got to reach the happiness you wanted. You have regrets. Not for the things that you did. But for the things that you didn’t do. But well….you suppose there’s no use in lingering in it. Death is the end. This is the end. ……. ….. ... .. . “—ook...t ...er...!” “..hush!” What? Why are you hearing noises? Why does your face feel warm? Are you in...heaven? Some sort of afterlife?! Oh man, you knew you deserved this! Fuck yes! You might have kicked that kid’s shin in the fourth grade and totally lied to your manager that one time that you cleaned the ice-cream machine when you didn’t, but your wrongdoings aren’t that bad. You open your eyes. Unusually, your vision is blurred. All you can make out is a fuzzy figure looming over you. Your mouth opens— “Waah!” What the fuck. You can’t speak. Each time your lips part, drool dripples onto your chin. In a panic, you try to move your body, but quickly find yourself heavy and practically stuck. You cry out and swing your arm, and that’s when your hand flashes before your eyes. Your pupils focus and you realize that your hand is tiny. That you can barely curl and uncurl your fingers together. Holy shit. Holy fuck— You’re a baby. Wailing sobs burst out of your tiny lungs. You don’t know where you are or how this happened. Your last memory is being hit by a truck! The figure looming above you comes closer. “What is wrong with her?!” The woman sounds annoyed, but it’s not like it's your fault. This is just a lot to take in. Your mouth is blocked by a pacifier being shoved in. Immediately, you spit it out and the woman sighs. “Why is she being so fussy?” That’s not the issue, lady! Christ, you wish you could communicate with her. You feel yourself being picked up and she angrily mutters, “If the Devereux household wasn’t paying me so much, I would’ve just thrown you out the window.” Wait. Say what now? Devereux? Why does that sound so familiar? You hear another woman’s voice, one that’s higher pitched and softer. “What’s wrong with little Anastasia?” “Have you finished hanging the laundry yet?” “Yes, I have.” You’re being passed on and your sobs subside in favour of a frown. Anastasia? Anastasia Devereux. You remember cursing that name out loud before, but where was— Oh my god. Oh my god! It’s impossible, but the truth is right in front of your eyes. You’re living through it right now. This isn’t a dream. No. It’s your game, Royal Romances. You’ve been reincarnated into the fictional country of Ashea. And of all people, you’ve been reborn as the villainess, Anastasia Devereux. You burst out crying again. // A man in a coat and frilly shirt enters the room. Your head adjusts to see through the wooden bars of your bassinet, vision becoming clearer by the day. You know who he is without an announcement. Your father. At least he’s supposed to be. “How is the child?” he asks the maid. “She is healthy, your grace. She may be a bit fussy at times, but she sleeps and eats well.” He hums and leaves shortly after, never once coming to personally see or even hug you. What an asshole. This entire world is fucked. You’re fucked. Royal Romances is a love story game between a heroine and several potential matches depending on the route you take. Yet in every route, the main protagonist's rival, the Marquess and the Crown Prince’s fiancée, ends up co-conspiring with the villain and dies because of his crimes. Or exiled. Two options. And you’ve taken her place. But now that you think about it, that’s so unfair! You didn’t care much about Anastasia while playing, other than wanting her to get the fuck out of the picture for your OTP ship to sail. But why should the villainess shoulder the villain’s crimes?! If anything, it was him who coerced her! All Anastasia wanted was to be with the Crown Prince! He was the only person who ever showed her an ounce of kindness! Oh god. All you know now is that you don’t want to die. You died too early in your past life. “Anastasia.” You’re shaken awake from your thick slumber by soft cooing. A quiet woman’s voice calls and when you open your eyes, you’re able to focus on a woman you’ve never seen before but is familiar at the same time. She smiles and picks you up. “Good afternoon.” Instead of fussing around like you usually would, a triumphant smile spreads into your face. Fucking finally. It’s the first time you’ve seen your ‘mother’. Maybe she’s just been recovering from the birth these past few months. After all, there’s no way the family would actually just abandon you to a bunch of maids— “Oh my goodness, Elanor!” A shrill voice has your senses tingling. There’s another woman sitting at the rounded table fanning herself with an orange, feathered fan. “What a lovely daughter!” “Yes, she really is. She hardly cries.” Now that’s a big fat lie. You’ve probably cried a thousand times since you got here. It’s not your fault the maids don’t know how to put you in anything other than scratchy dresses and forget to change your underwear after you’ve shit yourself. Another stranger approaches you and practically digs their nose into your face. Her floral perfume almost has you retching and spewing out an entire bottle of milk in her face. “She is simply too delightful! She has Herrick’s eyes and your nose.” “Really now? I think she’s growing up to look more and more like the Duke each day.” “Oh she’ll grow up to be a beauty. You are truly blessed, Elenor.” Cordial laughter fills the room. Motherfucker. She’s just using you as a decor! You’re a prop for her to show off at her tea party! She doesn’t care about you whatsoever. But fine. You can play along with her. It’s not like you have any choice. You muster an enormous gooey smile, channeling all the cuteness you know you must have and instantly, several of the ladies swoon. It’s an overwhelming victory! But one that requires a lot of energy when you were just awakened from your nap — and squeezing your butt cheeks results in the grumble of your stomach. Being a few months old, you have poor control of your digestive system. So it’s no surprise that smiling so hard makes you shit your pants. Oops. The lump falls into your cloth diaper and instantly, your mother’s brow twitches. The stench reaches her nose and the nostrils of the lady intruding into your space who immediately draws back in disgust. But what the hell are they expecting?! You’re a baby! All you do is eat, sleep and shit! “Edith!” Your mother’s shrill cry has the maid coming into the room. “Yes, your grace?” “Take Anastasia.” She passes you off without even looking and you’re swiftly taken away from the room, hearing the laughter and conversations resume the moment the doors close. So cruel! “Ugh. I’ve never seen a baby who cries so much,” Edith complains and plops you into the bassinet instead of comforting you. If you had limb strength and mobility, you’d slap her for being so rude. The younger maid with the higher-pitched voice looms over you. “Maybe it’s because she knows the Duke and Duchess never come to visit. She’s missing the comfort of a mother and father.” Thank god someone can sympathize with you! As incompetent as Joan is — to the point where she’s checking your pants for the tenth time when you’re really just crying because you’re starving — at least she’s not a Karen. Clearly, the bar is quite low. “Well, it’s expected.” Edith steps away to fold the basket of your dresses. “The Duke and Duchess tried having children for years and the only child they have is a daughter who can’t even carry the family name. If it was a son, it would be different.” “I don’t understand.” Joan rushes to the head maid’s side. “Usually daughters are treasured in noble families.” Edith looks around and lowers her volume. “Don’t you know?” “Know what?” “Keep your voice down! If you say this outside, even I won’t be able to help you.” There’s a pause. “The Duke and Duchess aren’t real nobles, they don’t have any noble blood. The Duke’s late father, Arnold, fought heroically in the war and that’s why the King granted his family the title.” “Oh…but...what does that have to do with anything?” “Noble society is different from how we know it, you naive girl. No matter what you do, hundreds of eyes are constantly on you. It’s full of scrutiny and someone in power today might be exiled tomorrow. Having a son would’ve made it easier for the Devereux household to maintain their title and prestige.” Joan sighs, finally realizing why things are the way they are. She comes to you and leans over the bassinet. “Poor thing. It’s not even her fault.” She gives you her finger and you happily wrap your entire hand around it. Hell yeah! Finally someone’s feeling bad for your shitty situation. But the older woman with wrinkles around her eyes scoffs. “There’s no use worrying about her. You should be more worried about yourself. If the House of Devereux fails to keep their power and wealth, we’ll be out of a job.” Joan hums and pries her finger away from your grasps. You frown and the next time the head maid feeds you, you puke all over her. But you know what she said is true. It’s the reason why the real Anastasia felt like she needed to become the crown princess, why she tried so hard to make everyone around her approve of her. Aside from loving the Prince, she was desperate for recognition, desperate to fulfill her family’s wishes, and to maintain her family’s lineage without slipping from the status quo. But you’re different. You don’t care about those things. You’ll prove yourself on your own and do whatever it takes to survive. Quickly. Quickly! You want to grow up and walk on your own two feet so you can protect yourself. After all, no one else in this house will. You stretch your arm in the air, curling your fingers together, staring up at the starry mobile. But it’s hard in the body of a mere infant and you fall asleep in the midst of your exercise session, succumbing to the temptation of slumber with heavy lids.

Four years later. “Are you colouring, my lady?” “Nooo.” You’re writing. And it’s not just anything — it’s battle plans. To anyone, it’s merely incoherent scribbles, a result of poor motor skills you have yet to refine. But it’s actually your life or death. You don’t need status or power. Living in the countryside and living fruitfully is good enough. All you want is to live a long, peaceful life. In the original story, after Anastasia’s eighteenth birthday, she was condemned for countless crimes, thrown in prison and then executed within the matter of weeks. All because of three people: the heroine, the Crown Prince, and the villain. To avoid the effect, you should avoid the cause. Therefore, you need to do whatever you can to avoid these three! It’s genius! Truly, if anyone knew how your four year old brain operated, you would be hailed as the next prophe— “Get ready.” Edith interrupts your train of thought, coming into the room and swiftly shutting the door behind her. “Why?” “You’re having lunch with the Duke and Duchess.” “But I don’t wanna,” you whine, especially when Joan starts collecting the crayons. You stand up before Edith can drag you and you stomp your feet. Why would you want to go have lunch with them when the amount of times you’ve seen them in four years can be counted on both hands. “Don’t be spoiled. Come here.” You stick out your tongue instead and the moment Edith’s fingers come to snag you, you swiftly dart and run as giggles squeak out of your body. “My lady,” Joan sighs, at a loss as well. The two of them try to corner you, but you dive to the left when there’s a chance. The original villainess was always quite upright and strict, especially with herself. It’s reasonable considering the way she was raised and the massive burden placed upon her. But kids can get away with a lot more than adults and you’d prefer to take advantage of that while you still can. “Stop playing around!” Edith finally snags the back of your nightgown and you laugh, still thrashing against her hold until she plops you down on the vanity chair. “You’re such an unruly troublemaker,” she mutters as she grabs the frilly dress you’re about to be changed into. And just for that comment, you undo the pins she puts into your hair when she’s not looking. It drives her crazy. But your little antics are stopped the moment you’re sitting at the dinner table. The height of said table reaches your collarbone and the chair you’re sitting in overwhelms your form. The atmosphere is stiff and tense, your father sitting at the head of the table and slicing into his meat while your mom’s posture is upright and she chews gingerly. Unlike the maids, you won’t test your luck with the Duke and Duchess. God knows they might send you to some kid ranch for the next ten years to reform yourself. But you also know you can’t get any cuter than this. You’ve seen yourself in the mirror — soft skin, big eyes, a button nose and chubby cheeks. Who knows what puberty might do to you someday, but for now, you’re as cute as a four year old can get. And why not use that as a weapon in your arsenal? “Momma.” You interrupt the silence and your mother across from you looks up. You give a full smile with teeth, quirking your head to your shoulder and open your arms as wide as they can go. “I like you this much!” Oh. Hell. Yeah! You can feel it. You’re totally gonna win them over— Her head swivels over to the Duke. “Don’t you think it’s time to teach her manners?” Wow. That’s cold. Stone cold. “Edith.” Your father glances over his shoulder and the head maid steps forward. “How’s Anastasia’s development?” The older woman clears her throat. “She’s a bit wild, your grace.” You glare at her for exposing you like this. “However, she can write the alphabet and read through storybooks on her own. She seems to be a bright child.” Damn straight. Of course, you’d be able to pick up the language of Ashea quickly. You still have the memories of your past life. The Duke hums. “Then she can start training to be the crown princess.” You nearly choke on your broccoli. But you hastily compose yourself and look up at your father. “What’s that?” “Don’t ask questions,” your mother quips and the room simmers down to the uncomfortable silence again. It’s so ridiculous — the very definition of jumping the gun. You aren’t the Crown Prince’s fiancée, but they’re already considering you a candidate before you’ve even lost your baby teeth. Not to mention, it’s all useless anyway. The original Anastasia never became the princess and you have no plans of even meeting the Prince. “Do you know what happened in the year 921, my lady?” the tutor asks later on, pushing up his rounded spectacles up the slope of his nose. You’re slumped over the table, one arm rested with your cheek squished in your hand, focused on twirling the quill with two fingers. God forbid Edith or your mother witnesses your awful posture, but no one’s ever interested enough to sit in on these dumb tutor sessions. They’d fall asleep instantly. “The war of Winter,” you mumble and the tutor’s eyes light up and he enthusiastically nods. “Yes! The most momentous moment in the history of Ashea. A great dragon rose from the mountains and in the war of Winter, great King Baek, the light priestess and fierce knights of the royal palace came down the lazy brook from Stoughsby Peaks next to the then Canary district which sold fabrics and spices up until the year 914 when the famine of 914 came—” The tutor drones on and on. But one thing grabs your attention. You forgot there was magic in this world. “Ummm,” you interrupt him in the middle of his tangent. “Did King Baek kill the dragon by magic?” “Great question. King Baek in the summer of 896, seven years after he was born, started to learn the art of swordsmanship through rigorous training with the fierce knights of the royal place who was then under the rule of King Ennik—” You don’t know why you asked. “How do you start doing magic?” you interject again. “Well, magic is part of everyone and it’s everywhere. But some are more attuned to it than others. It requires vigorous training, the most talented magician was Ruffus Dolores who dedicated his life living in the Magician’s Tower and wrote most of the magical texts we have today.” You look at him, curiosity finally alight in your eyes. “Can I do magic?” There was never magic on Earth in the twenty-first century aside from Harry Potter or Twilight, if Edward’s sparkling constitutes as magic. But if it’s anything like those movies, then you’re psyched! You can wingardium leviosa yourself and yeet out of here. Unfortunately, your excitement is short lived. “The House of Devereux isn’t very magically inclined,” the tutor says and your eyes dim again. You’re not completely surprised considering Anastasia was never much of a fighter in the game. She just splashed water on the main character’s face a lot and made players like you curse her out. “However, while magic is an inborn talent and comes naturally, skills always have to be honed. There’s still a chance you may have magical abilities. We’ll just have to see as you get older.” You hum to yourself. // Edith pulls the curtains together haphazardly, the moonlight crisp where the gap is and sheds a silver sliver onto the carpet. Joan takes the tray with your finished glass of milk, nearly toppling it over and shattering the glass, but finding balance in the nick of time. “Goodnight, my lady.” “Night night.” Your hand peeks out from the covers and you wave. “Don’t get out of bed or else,” Edith warns in a low tone. “The Duke won’t be happy to hear if you’re found wandering in the halls or sneaking into the kitchen again.” You giggle. “Bye bye.” The door shuts, darkness engulfs your bedroom and you count to ten within your head. The moment the seconds are up, you throw the covers off of you and slide off the high mattress. You come to your desk, grasp the heavy duty textbook off of it and lug it over to the windows. The enormous book sits on your lap as you lean against your bedpost. The moonlight illuminates the cover and you flip to the magic section at the back, the noise of the pages soothing in the quiet space. Magic — not only is it interesting to you but it could be a great defense mechanism if worse comes to worse. Who knows. It might just add to your battle plans and help you survive. Your pointer finger underlines the sentences and traces the words as you read the introduction slowly. After reading, you learn that magic is more intuitive, rather than a particular procedure. You push the textbook aside and hold your hands out. Shutting your eyes, you try your best to envision light. You try to imagine light engulfing your figure and form, causing your skin to glow. Peeking with one eye open, there’s— Absolutely nothing. Well shit. Maybe the tutor was right. Maybe there is no real magical talent in your bloodline. But there’s no harm in trying to dabble in it a little more. You conceptualize fire in your brain. And when you look in your hand, you’re ecstatic to see a tiny flame actually flickering in mid-air. Oh shit! It worked! But it smothers out a blink later. You try to visualize water next to see if your magical expertise lays within the element. When you open your eyes, your breath hitches at the water droplets floating in your palm. And for once, it doesn’t completely vanish within a second. A grin spreads into your face. But as if Lady Luck wants to slap you, the moment you get hyped, the water splashes into your lap. It looks like you peed yourself. “Really?!” You sigh, ready to give up. Maybe you don’t have a knack for magic after all. You turn to grab the textbook, but the heftiness is awkward in your grasps and your thumb slips, accidentally flipping over the next page. The page’s heading makes you stop. Oh yeah. Dark magic exists. Might as well give it a shot while you’re at it. Like all the times before, you shut your eyes and hold your hands upwards. You try to imagine darkness — the similar kind that’s already filled your bedroom, or like the empty void that you were plunged in after being hit by that truck. That abyss of nothing, of pitch black. Suddenly, you feel a pressure on your shoulders. It’s heavy. Comforting. Eerie. All at the same time. Your lashes flutter open and your breath is plugged in your nose. Darkness has overwhelmed the room. It bleeds out of you, consuming your form like smoke, the hue of ink spilt on oil. It covers the silver moonlight, erasing the sliver casted on your carpet and what was translucent through the curtains. Exactly like the empty void, the abyss of nothing. It’s trying to consume you. There’s a shriek from outside your room. “All the candles just blew out!” Panic drains blood from your face and you drop your hands, flailing your arms as if you can dispel the black before it wraps its hands around your throat and submerges you completely. It fades, the moonlight traveling back onto you again and you shove the book underneath your bed. You’re still shaking as you climb back into bed. God knows you’re never going to try that again. // So you might not have an aptitude for magic after all. But the grief is short-lived after the realization that it’s not a toy or something that comes out of a magical wand for you to fight Dementors with. But there’s still a lot of ways you can protect yourself. You just have to get creative. “I wanna do that!” Your nose, forehead and palms are pushed against the glass window as you peer outside. Joan frowns and peeks out. “You want to go flower picking, my lady?” “No!” The useless maid finally looks to the two guards sparring with one another out by the field. “You want to sword fight?” “Uh-huh.” She bursts out laughing and you whirl around in irritation. “I wanna! Pretty please?” How else are you going to protect yourself? If you can’t use magic, then you need to go the melee route and pick up a sword or at least a bow and arrow. “You would have to ask permission from the Duke himself, my lady.” Joan turns away to make your bed, expecting you to give up. When it comes to asking your parents, it’s too much of a hassle to get involved with them. But this time, you don’t concede. She’s surprised when you tug on her dress. “Okay.” The Duke’s study doors are imposing on their own. Without needing to open them, the twisting ornate patterns on the wooden surface are enough to eerily remind you of exposed arteries. It feels like you’re approaching the principal’s office — a nervousness of the impending doom. You’ve always been careful to steer clear any place your mother or father might be. The study on the third floor, the gardens, their bedroom. And any time you passed, your steps would quiet. It’s not like you’re scared of them. Frankly, you’re just annoyed at how nit-picky they are. But you remind yourself you’ve been through worse — you once spent an entire summer in customer service serving food in the twenty first century for god’s sakes! With that in mind, you throw open the doors. Joan, behind you, practically flinches. Your father’s sitting behind his oak desk, quill and parchment in hand, and he looks above his rounded spectacles. You give your most charming smile. “Hi, papa!” He looks to the older girl and deadpans, “What’s the matter.” The maid clears her throat, clearly distressed that she’s been dragged into this. “Uh, well, your grace, my lady, uh, she…..well…” “I wanna do sword!” You tottle towards him and round the desk to come eye to eye with his knees. C’mon, as uncaring as they are, they gotta at least care a little for their daughter, right? You’re too cute to ignore all the time. You flutter your lashes for good measure. “Pretty please?” The Duke’s brow quirks. “You want to learn swordsmanship?” You enthusiastically nod. “Uh-huh!” He stares at you. You stare at him. The older man sits back in his chair. “It wouldn’t hurt to learn an interesting skill or two. It might make you stand out.” Those two lifelessly said statements alone are enough to make you happy. Even when he resumes his paperwork. “I heard from your tutor that you’re a fast learner.” You’re surprised the old fart said something good about you, but of course you are! You’re technically twenty four now. Mathematics is truly universal when you can recall the basics and the language is easy to pick up. You’re already dumbing down everything to not make it weird. “Maybe you’re not so useless after all,” he mutters from the corner of his mouth, no longer sparing you a glance. You hold back a scoff. Instead, you force a smile and a sweet giggle. “Thank you, papa! I like you too!” You wonder if this is why Anastasia tried so hard. The only time she gains recognition in her family is when she’s focusing her time and energy into studying and proving her worth. If so, it’s depressing. You wish you had more sympathy for her when you were playing from the heroine’s perspective. But you’re beginning to understand her better and better. Why she did what she did. How she became the female villain. “Fight me!” You point your wooden sword at the knight whose eyes are wide. You bet he didn’t expect to be sparing with a four year old when he was assigned to protect the Devereux house, but this is a matter of life and death for you. “Hurry!” “Y-Yes, my lady.” You smile, gripping the handle tighter. He comes up and weakly slashes you and you’re able to root your feet into the ground and keep yourself from stumbling back. He’s obviously not trying very hard, but it’s good enough for now. Slowly but surely, you’re finding a rhythm into things. In your spare time, you learn the history of Ashea, read books and plan the next steps in your battle plan of avoiding all main characters of the game at all costs. You’ll protect yourself no matter what it takes. And you’ll survive no matter what happens.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts series #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts fanfics #man I wanna tag who the main member is bUT I DON'T WANNA SPOIL IT YET #anyway hope this is intriguing #this chapter gets the ball rolling #they'll be 8 chapters in total

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buryyourfavouritestrope · 4 years ago

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Five years sure do fly - Shiro Fujimoto

Author Note: Just going to leave this one here.

How many times had she visited this place in the past three weeks? Not once had she managed to make it through the iron clad gates. Perhaps it was the weather that prevented her entrance. Each day had been a painfully sunny one, the direct opposite to the current heartbreak that was dancing through her chest. Or perhaps if she were being honest with herself, it was her cowardice that stopped her. It would certainly explain a lot, she hadn’t spoken to the man for over five years and yet she had made her way back as though she had never left.

What could she say? ‘Hey Fujimoto, wow how five years flies. I didn’t mean to stay away for so long, but you know the Vatican and other Exorcist business. Could not get the time off. Oh no, I…it had nothing to do with your adopted demon sons starting to call me their mom or pushing both of us to confess feelings that I tried to bury to each other’

Her brow furrowed; in a few minutes the confidence within her would dissipate. She would find her eyes darting to the pavement before her body pulled her further from the area. With a mutter about returning the next day she would scurry away back to the hole she had come from.

It was her own fear that had pushed her away from Fujimoto, the panic paired itself perfectly with self-doubt and within those final few months she had ruined everything. She had stopped visiting the twins, the monastery. She had rejected every call and text from Shiro, every time he would visit, she would pretend to be out, or she would ask for a certain demonic benefactor to draw his attention away.

The day she left; she had made no objection to Mephisto telling Fujimoto. In truth it had been a selfish idea that the man would turn up with his two tearaways in toe and confess like some bad rom com rerun. A selfish picture that she had no right to.

“It helps if you walk inside, the gates a fine material but the grounds inside are much more appealing. I can assure you there are no demons beyond this point,” Mephisto cooed. His sudden presence had caused her to jump, a hand flying to her heart as she glanced at him. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he would turn up here. In fact, it wouldn’t have surprised her if he’d been watching her ever since her return. The demon knew everyone’s habits. “Well, none from Gehenna at least”

“I don’t belong here. I’m not even sure why I even came” She mumbled. There would be no use clearing the air now, the unspoken words had no right to be said – not anymore. Instead, she gathered herself, expelling what little courage she had left and smiled at Mephisto. “I should probably get going, my flight leaves later this afternoon and check in at the airport is a pain these days.”

“My dear, I think this is exactly the place you belong. I’ve watched you stand here for three weeks, each time you stumble at the last hurdle, and though it’s a pleasure of mine to watch you humans and your strange cycles, I really think you should break this one. If you run again, I can’t promise you that it’ll make you feel better.” He chided. The smirk that danced along his features did little to soothe her. “Consider your vacation to the Vatican cancelled, I’ve asked for your help here at this Exorcist Branch. There seems to be some troublesome students at the Cram School that could really use the guidance of someone like you. No protests I’ve already spoken to the higher ups.”

She nodded; there would be no point in arguing with Mephisto. The man always had the last laugh, even when she was younger and he would tease her, much to the protest of Shiro. They always seemed to come to blows when she was involved. Mephisto had a habit of placing her in danger with his ridiculous antics and Shiro would always be there to protect her.

“So step in, say your peace and come to True Cross Academy with me.” He announced, his hands pushed her towards the gates with little resistance. “I’ll be waiting here when you’re ready”

She left him leaning against the iron gates as she dawdled through the grounds. She ran her eyes over each syllable attached to the stones until she found his. It hurt her to know she missed the funeral; it made her sick to her stomach to know that she could’ve done something had she not cancelled her flights every month.

The fresh flowers adorning the stone made her smile. Perhaps Yukio had been this morning, the boy had always been a softie, a strong one but a big softie. She remembered the time they all sat on the grass outside the monastery. She would teach him to make flower crowns and read him books on different flowers whilst Rin ran amuck covering himself in mud. Shiro would stand there a cigarette in his lips as he watched the older twin run around with his arms in the air.

“it’s been a while.” She began, “I don’t know what to say, I guess…You always started conversations, you knew I was hopeless so you always started them because if I did, I would put my foot in something. Like the time on a mission when we visited an elderly couple and they asked how long we’d been together, and I started rambling. I think I called her an old hag; said you were handsome and called her husband a saint for dealing with her.” She smiled. She hadn’t noticed that her legs were trembling or that water had begun to fall down her cheeks. Part of her wanted to call for Mephisto, just to have someone there. She wanted someone to tell her this wasn’t real, Shiro had been planning this prank for years.

‘You called me handsome, I think the actual term was as handsome as sin, I also think I heard you said that no matter how old I get I could still get some” He laughed. His laugh surrounded her like a hug as she pictured that memory. She remembered shouting at him, her face bright red as blood pooled in her cheeks. She hadn’t said that she remembered screaming that at him, that he would be lucky if she even gave that a second thought. ‘uh uh, no take backs. I don’t think my journal could handle the heartbreak. I’d have to go home and scribble out all the hearts with our initials in them.’

“This is so messed up; you shouldn’t be here. You should be with the boys stopping Rin from doing something dumb and watching Yukio study. Anything but here. When Mephisto…when they told me, you died. I screamed and screamed until my lungs hurt too much to continue. It was too late to come to the funeral; he’d come too late and I hated it. I hated him because if he’d been a day earlier, I would’ve been there for Rin and Yukio. I had the tickets months ago, but I missed the flight. I should have been here, and I would give everything to go back and get on that plane. I would give anything to rewind time to five years ago.” She cried. Her knees bucking beneath her as she stumbled to the ground. “I never…I never told you how much you all meant to me, all those messages you sent asking me if I hated you, if you’d done something but it was me. I couldn’t deal with the idea that my feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. I left it too long and you died.”

Her hysterics flooded the quiet of the graveyard. She was certain Mephisto could hear her cries from outside the graveyard. Even more so when she heard his footsteps falling against the pathway. She felt his arms surround her as she sobbed. Shiro was gone; her world had almost entirely shattered. The words left unspoken were now rotting in her mind.

“I miss him, I miss him so much” She wailed.

“We all do, none more than the two Okumura boys. Father Fujimoto. Shiro informed me shortly before he died, that should he ever be unable to care for the boys that they be placed under your care, if you were to remain abroad, I would look after them. But you’re back now and I think it would be beneficial to them if you saw them. Yukio has grown into a fine teacher since you’ve been gone, and Rin has given himself a bold goal for the future. One I’m sure he’ll need your help with. But first we need to get you all cleaned up.” Mephisto whispered.

#father fujimoto #shiro fujimoto #shiro fujimoto x reader #father fujimoto x reader #blue exorcist imagine #ao no exorcist imagine #ao no exorcist #I really enjoyed Shiro's character #Even more so in the Manga #Boy the Manga is so good #blue exorcist x reader

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shsl-otaku · 4 years ago

Text

Where Greed Goes, Despair Follows: Chp. 39

Pairing: Ban & Y/N

Anime: Seven Deadly Sins

Genre: Adventure, Romance

Warnings: None

Tag List: @asgleo16 @yuri-2018 @vialuciferscage @commanderawkward @chidayasays @misfitgirlwrites @amberfoxcosplay @catlover7722 @shiggi-trash @softiekage @happynoodle @milkysamu @kageyamis @yogurthdecoco @alysplxnet @chanderefk @furryavocadoowo @nellieleverlin @djdestiny23 @kelseyleia98 @demise-dies-dead @giyuustears @callmeunstable @jaybeingweird @lizzy101 @wishfulcoconut @80strashbag @crownedcupcake17 @rinzyx05 @cinnamonbun332 @smolmacbean @lalalol17 @rintheemolion @lostgirl2007 @god-of-the-universe @whorianscum @ihaveaproblem98 @ariknj @liawinchester67 @sunnsettee @beccawinter @stxtch72 @starrykeigo

•••

"What is that?!" Ban said, a blast going off in the city. He ran with Meliodas and Gowther behind the broken houses and buildings. He wiped what remained of his tears that fell during your power surge.

"Judging by the sound and vibration, it's 0.5 miles away," Gowther said. "Between the South Gate and the palace gate."

"Come to think of it, we could sense someone with mad magical powers just now, huh?" Ban said, scowling.

"Right now, it's Hendrickson that I can sense, just barely," Gowther replied. "That's the magical power of a man who bore the title 'Platinum' ten years ago."

"That's it," Meliodas exclaimed. "Let's go!"

"Huh? We're not heading for the castle?!" Ban said. "What about Y/N?! She could be in there and we don't know what they're doing to her!"

"If we're going to rescue Elizabeth and Y/N, taking them all out would be the fastest," Meliodas said, running towards the blast. "We have to believe that Y/N will stay strong until we can find her. Until then, we have to take these guys out first so that we won't have problems when finding them!"

"Looks like we should follow him," Gowther said, watching Meliodas run farther into the city. Ban turned to look at the castle with a frustrated, worried expression, before shaking his head and following Meliodas, Gowther following closely behind.

•••

Meanwhile, Diane, King, and Hawk's mom were walking peacefully, taking their time to Liones. Hawk's mom huffed, making King turn to her and pout.

"I know, I know," he said, pouting at her.

"Hey," Diane said, making King turn to face her.

"Huh? Yeah, what?" King asked.

"Have you ever seen that look on the captain's face before?" Diane asked. "And Ban. He looked like he had seen a ghost."

"Nope," King replied, shaking his head. "It took me by surprise too. I don't think I've ever seen the two of them get so worked up before. But..." King looked down. "I can't take my mind off of what Ban said to me."

Diane turned to King. "What did he say?"

"He said that he already lost Elaine and that he wouldn't lose Y/N too," King said. "I know the two of them are close, but... I wasn't expecting him to say that."

Diane's eyes widened. "Really? Ban said that?"

"Yeah," King said, nodding.

Diane giggled. "Wait till we tell Y/N. I bet she'll be so happy." King let out a laugh at the thought of you being so flustered.

Diane grew silent, looking down at the ground. "King... If it was me instead of Elizabeth who got abducted, do you think the captain would've gotten that worked up for me?"

"Diane," King whispered, his heart hurting at the sight of Diane looking so down. His eyes widened. "O-Of course he would! No question about it! You're a precious comrade of his!"

Diane smiled and looked up at King. "Right! The captain's really kind-hearted!" She hid her face with her hair. "But he probably wouldn't get that look on his face for me..."

King huffed, pink dusting his cheeks. "Well, I would! I'd totally get all worked up! Even if I were by myself, I'd go to your rescue!"

Diane stared at King, a faint blush on her cheeks. "King... are you consoling me?"

King's eyes widened. "That's not it, I'm just... Uh..." Hawk's mom suddenly huffed, making King slightly lose his balance in the air. "Woah—! Y-Yeah, you're right. We'd better get going, too." Diane laughed.

"I'm worried about Y/N though," Diane said, furrowing her brows. "She wasn't doing so well after we left Vaizal. She's been acting more scared even though she tries covering it up by acting happy." King nodded.

"King," Diane said, making him turn to her. Her purple eyes had tears in them. "What if they're doing something to Y/N?"

King's face grew visably worried. "That's why we're on our way to save her. Ban's probably looking for her as we speak."

"Yeah, but what if something's happened to Ban too?" Diane said, distressed. "Y/N's our best friend! We should be there—"

"Diane," King said, cutting her off. "Y/N is strong. We have to believe in her. Ban and the captain and Gowther are there too. They won't let anything happen to Elizabeth and Y/N, I promise." Diane sniffled and nodded, making King smile softly at her.

King's eyes widened, suddenly remembering something. "Oh, wait! I almost forgot!" He suddenly let out a piercing whistle.

As soon as he did that, a portal opened up in the sky and a floating green dog popped out.

"Oslo," King called, smiling.

"A-A dog?" Diane said.

"A Black Hound," King said, smiling at Oslo. "He's a type of fairy who lives in between the human world and the fairy world, and he's an old friend of mine." Oslo opened his mouth to reveal a portal inside.

"He's got this mysterious power that lets him teleport whatever he swallows to another place," King said.

Diane's face lightened up. "You mean he can send us to Liones right away?"

"Right on the money," King exclaimed, grinning.

Diane smiled. "But if he's your friend, why didn't you introduce us sooner? The captain wouldn't get mad, you know! Not like one more pet is going to make any..."

"He adores pork," King said, sweat dropping.

Diane smiled, also sweat dropping. "I see."

King turned to Oslo, smiling. "I'm counting on you, Oslo!"

Oslo suddenly grew almost the size-maybe even the size of!-Hawk's mom and stuffed Diane into his mouth. Except... her bottom half was still sticking out.

"Am I really in Liones?" Diane said, her top half now in a dark cave. "It's so dark, I can't tell."

From the other side, Diane's voice was muffled. "My butt's stuck, and I can't get out," she cried. "King! Please! Give me a shove!"

King stared at Diane, his face bright red. "You... You want me to...?"

"Hurry," Diane yelled.

"No way," King whispered to himself, blood beginning to drip from the poor fairy’s nose. "I need to prepare mentally for that!

#ban x reader #ban #sds ban #ban fox sin of greed #sds #sds x reader #seven deadly sins #seven deadly sins x reader #nanatsu no taizai #meliodas #elizabeth liones #sds diane #sds king #sds gowther #hawk captain of the scraps disposal

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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 5 years ago

Text

Warrior Queen

Request: Hey can u do Rhaegar x reader where rhaegar survive the battle and she is his Wife instead of Elia martell and the mother of his children she is very kind witty knows how to fight and is beautiful and angry at him and lyanna ( she survives) but loves little Jon since she doesn’t blame a parents sin on the child and rhaegar tries to win her trust and love since he loves her and reader tells him she was pregnant but lost it when she tried to protect the children and a lot of angst but fluff plea. Requested by anon.

Request: Hey can u do a rhaegar x reader where he wins the Robert rebellion and lyanna survive to and the reader is is wife instead of Elia and the mother of his children’s the reader is loved by many she is sassy beautiful treats the poor people with respect and is a deadly warrior she love little Jon as her own but is angry at rhaegar and lyanna since her children almost dies and lost on while protect the children rhaegar who is madly in love with Her tries to win her back some angst and fluff please. Requested by anon.

Request: Au rhaegar x wife reader where rhaegar survives and reader is angry at him and lyanna but adores Jon rhaegar tries to win her back but she refuse and can’t look at him without thinking how her children’s are dead because he decide to marry another man women . Can the reader be immune to fire and tells rhaegar she was pregnant but lose it while trying to save their children’s please (rhaegar loves the reader and reader is called the warrior queen. ) please. Requested by anon.

Warnings: violence, miscarriage, cheating, angst!

Word Count: 2149.

There were rumors about Rhaegar being with another woman, but you decided to trust your husband over silly people’s words. How foolish of you! Then Lyanna Stark was supposedly kidnapped and raped by Rhaegar, but you knew better. He took her away, fearing what you might have done to her out of rage. Her father and oldest brother came to plead with your father in law, but he killed them, starting a war, which was called the Robert Rebellion.

At first, you thought he was sleeping around with some random whore because you were pregnant. Since,men tend to do that due to the lack of sex, but you never thought Rhaegar would be one of those men. After all, he was kind, gentle, loving and caring. For all the years you’ve been together, he’s been nothing but good to you. Never raised his voice or hand on you.

The two of you met, while you were training. He immediately noticed your skills and instead of announcing himself, he decided to fight you with a knight’s helm on. You came close to defeating him, but he won. He was the first man to ever defeat you. You were curious to know who that man was and at that moment he revealed himself. Instead of bowing down to him, you complimented his fighting skills as if he was a normal man. That’s what he liked about you. You treated him like anyone else. With kindness and respect but not as if he was in a higher class than you or anyone else.

Naturally, you were loved by your people and each one of them would die for you.

Flashforward to the war, there were rumors that Rhaegar was killed by Robert Baratheon. The mad king was murdered by Jaime Lannister and the army of the Lannisters sacked the city.

“My lady, we have to go now. The King is dead and there are orders to kill you and the children” your handmaiden entered your room and locked it behind her. Luckily, there was a secret corridor that led to the sea, where a boat awaited you.

“Let’s go! It’s alright, you’re gonna be safe, I promise you” you kissed Aegon and Rhaenys’ forehead.

From the secret corridor, you took the children and stopped by Rhaella’s chambers.

“Your majesty, it’s time to go. King’s Landing has fallen” you informed her.

Unfortunately, she her water broke and she was about to have a baby girl; Daenerys.

“Your majesty, listen to me! You can’t have this child yet. If you do, they are going to kill it in front of you, then they will rape you and when they’re done, they will kill you. We need to move now! Just hold on a little longer” you wrapped her arm around your neck and helped her up and out of the chambers.

Your handmaiden took Viserys, Rhaenys and Aegon ahead of you.

When you reached the boat, you helped the queen on it first and started boarding the children, when three guards appeared.

“Kiyara take the children and leave, now!” You instructed your handmaiden.

“But my Lady-“.

“Do as I say now!” You kissed your children goodbye and as the guards tried to reach them, your Valyrian steel sword blocked their attack. “NOW!” You started fighting them and prevented the guards from reaching the children.

“Just three?” You asked.

“One can take you down” one of the guards said.

“If you’re so sure of yourself, why bring three? I’m the Warrior Queen. Who are you?”.

“I will be remembered as the knight who killed a queen” he smirked.

“Presumably you do live to see another day, do you think people will think that’s honorable. Three soldiers against a pregnant queen? I don’t know what’ll be more dishonoring that or that that queen defeated you and spared your life”.

“You are in no state to win” he looked at your belly and you looked down to see. You had been wounded when you tried to defend the children, but only now did you start to feel it. You feared that your nightmare has come true and that you’re losing your baby. You were so enraged, that you attacked them without thinking, tearing them limb from limb until two of them were dead and the third wounded and begging on the ground for you to spare his life.

“I would have, but you harmed by unborn baby and now I’m gonna rip your heart out with my bare hand” you knelt next to him and took his heart out from him to see before he died.

You may have one this fight, but you’ve lost the war. You lost everything. Your children were gone. Your husband was supposedly dead, the Lannister army control the city now and you were sure that you were losing the child you carried inside of you. You were badly injured and didn’t know what to do next. You lay on the sand next to the dead guards and waited for your death. Until you heard the bells.

A feeling inside of you told you that Rhaegar is still alive and is back with a bigger army.

You took your sword and went back to the city. Tywin Lannister saw you and because he knew he was losing, he wanted Rhaegar to lose as well. He took an arrow, lit it on fire and shot you in the stomach with it. Fire was surrounding your body, but luckily for you, you were wearing war clothes made of Valyrian Steel, so they didn’t melt, exposing your naked body to the world.

You took the arrow out and started bleeding again. You wanted Tywin’s head and you eventually got it.

“H-how?” He was surprised to see that you were immune to fire.

“You don’t have the time to find out” you slit his throat and ripped his head off.

Your army was winning the war and Rhaegar was searching for you, worried that you might have died.

“Y/n! Y/n!” He shouted in the streets of King’s Landing until he saw you from behind. He knew that outfit right away.

You turned to face him, blood all over you. Some of it yours, the rest of your enemies “Rhaegar” you muttered dropping your sword and collapsing on the ground.

—-

“Where are my children?” Was the first thing you asked once you woke up.

“They’re on their way home. You need to rest” Rhaegar placed his hand on yours.

“No, no! I need to see my children”.

“Y/n, you lost a lot of blood. You need to let your wounds heal”.

“You want to talk to me about wounds? How do I let my wounded heart heal? While, I was pregnant with your child, you were fucking Lyanna Stark. Then you dared to run away with her, leaving me and your children alone. Where were you when they sacked the city? Where were you when they almost killed your family? Your mother? Your brother? Your unborn sister? Your children? Me? You were too busy fucking her that your flesh and blood didn’t matter to you”.

“Y/n, I- I’m sorry”.

“Is that all you have to say? That you’re sorry? My baby is dead, isn’t he? His blood is on your hands, but mine as well, for staying here when I knew you’ve gone with her. How foolish of me!” You sat up and tried to leave the bed, but you were too weak to do so.

“Hey, hey, listen to me! It’s not your fault. I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I truly am. I will do anything to make it right again”.

“Can you bring me back my dead son? No, I thought so. I want you to leave! When the children are back. I’m going to take them away. Away from here, away from you. Away from the danger that surrounds you”.

“Y/n, don’t do this”.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t”.

“I- I love you”.

“That’s not even a reason to begin with”.

“I’m the king now! I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you”.

“You promised me that a long time ago, but look at us. How can you not let anyone hurt me, when you’ve been doing that all along?”.

“I won’t let you leave! You can’t take away my children from me!”.

“Your children? The same ones you left to die? Now you want to be their father? If it wasn’t for me, they would’ve died and me along with them, leaving you to return to nothing”.

“You need to rest. I will place guards in front of you chambers and a handmaiden and the healer will stay with you” he informed you.

“Are the guards for my protection or to prevent me from leaving?” You asked.

“Both” he admitted.

“I hate you!”.

—-

When Aegon and Rhaenys returned, Rhaegar immediately took them to your room escorted by Kiyara.

“Oh, my babies!” You sat yourself up and they ran towards you to hug you.

You winced from the pain but didn’t let them go.

“Alright. Children! It’s time to go, let your mother rest” Rhaegar instructed.

“No, I just got them back, I won’t lose them again”.

“They are safe here! Nothing will happen to them” Rhaegar reassured you.

“Liar!”.

“My lady” Kiyara bowed and greeted you.

“Kiyara! I’m glad to see you. You’re the only one I can trust in this place” you looked at Rhaegar.

“Then, she’ll stay with the children”.

—-

Days have passed and you were still locked in your chambers. The children would visit you every day, but Rhaegar didn’t let them stay that long. Finally, you have recovered and started walking normally again. Today was the day you’ll get out. You didn’t know what was happening outside those four walls that you confided in.

“I have brought you food” Kiyara entered your chambers and greeted you.

“I’m finally leaving” you expressed.

“About that…” Kiyara seemed uncomfortable.

“What is it, Kiyara?”.

“It- it’s nothing”.

“Everyone out of my chambers!” You ordered the others to leave “you can tell me now, what is it?”.

“It’s…”.

“You’re scaring me! Did something happen to the children?”.

“No. His majesty brought someone back with him” she informed you.

“Lyanna?”.

“Not just her. Aegon-“.

“What does Aegon have to do with it?”.

“He had a child with her a- and named him Aegon. I wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t be surprised when you see them”.

“That monster! He dares bring his mistress and his bastard child to my residency. My city” you were so angry at him. After all, this was a sign of disrespect.

You got dressed and went to the chambers where Rhaegar was having a meeting.

“How dare you do that to me?! What kind of honorless man are you?” You barged into the room.

“Y/n, we can talk about this later. We’re discussing important things”.

“Don’t ever speak about importance again! I’ve had enough. I am leaving you and I’m taking the children with me” you threatened and he immediately ordered the men to get out and close the door behind them.

“What has gotten into you?” He held your upper arms.

“First, I lose my child because of you. Then, I’m confined in my chambers for weeks, only to find out it’s not because of me, but so you could have more fun with her. And now, you bring her and your bastard child here. Why do you hate me so much? What have I ever done to deserve this?” You crumbled in front of him and he knelt next to you.

“I don’t! I love you! I didn’t tell you before because I wanted you to heal properly and I knew if I told you, you would’ve collapsed again. She’s only here because of my son. He needs his mother. Once he’s old enough, she’ll go back to Winterfell. I do not love her. It was a mistake! But I will not abandon my son, the way I did with you and my other children. Give him a chance!”.

—-

At the beginning, you hated that baby so much and couldn’t bear to look at him. Whenever you were walking in the Red Keep, Lyanna wouldn’t come out of her chambers, but Rhaegar took the child out, for your children to familiarize with him.

With time, you have grown to love him. After all, he was innocent and wasn’t to blame for his parents’ sins. He was like the son you lost. That’s how you treated him, but you called him Jon.

You didn’t let Rhaegar into your chambers or anywhere near you, but he understood. You needed time to heal and you might never forgive him, but he was trying his best to make it up to you for the mistakes he made.

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loki-hargreeves · 5 years ago

Note

Hellooo if you’re still taking sinful Monday prompts could you write something with Kylo and “you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into” “oh wanna bet?”

God, I love that prompt! Please enjoy :) Word Count: 1,2K WARNINGS: being strapped down, implied smut, sexual tension, low-key a death threat

THIRD POV

Y/N had walked into the lion’s den. She was a resistance pilot, but her life had changed ever since she had discovered her connection to the one and only, Kylo Ren. At first, she felt disgusted for being one with him through the force, but slowly she changed her mind. Kylo Ren made her see deeper than simply black and white, good and evil. In a way, it felt like only he could understand her and vice versa.

Which is why she risked everything to face him, to seek the truth that she so deeply craved. Her life with the resistance was no longer her purpose.

“You’ve come far just to see me,” Kylo Ren walked into the holding cell in which Y/N had been put into after she had been captured. Her limbs were strapped down tightly, but she didn’t mind it too much. Once Kylo finally entered the room, her heart jumped to her throat and oddly enough, she felt excited.

“I had to come. There was no other way,” She explained shortly. After all, she had tried to contact Kylo through the force, but it seemed it only worked occasionally. It left her with no choice.

The tall, dark figure walked further inside and finally appeared right in front of her. His boots were heavy on the cold ground and his shadow cast above Y/N. Seeing him in flesh and bone, without his mysterious helmet, was surreal. Yes, Y/N thought he was handsome, but in person, he seemed even greater. The danger, the power, everything about him was so intense – and she liked it. Somehow, she failed to fear it the way she should’ve.

“You could’ve died,” Kylo stated coldly, glancing up and down to take in the sight of her. He didn’t show it, but he was strangely pleased to see her. Admittedly, the sight of her body before him, all helpless and strapped down did mess with his mind. He was thankful it was difficult if not impossible to tell that by his expressionless gaze.

“I didn’t,” Y/N replied with a small smile. Her mind was all wrapped around him and her proposal. It was all or nothing. Instead of waiting for Kylo to speak, she continued bravely, “Let me join you.”

Kylo had suspected that she wasn’t the most loyal among the Resistance, but he hadn’t truly expected such a blunt suggestion. Was she for real? Did she have any idea what her words meant? Kylo had to stand there and ponder for a while. He searched for any clues that she was joking but failed to find that.

She was serious. And somehow, it put a smile on her face.

“Why should I?” He decided to test her. Yes, he saw the potential in her, but he couldn’t possibly let it be that simple for her, now could he?

“You said it yourself! You offered to teach me the ways of the force. I’m tired of being told what’s good and what’s not. Our conversations have made me see that there’s more to life and the galaxy than the past. Please,” She paused after a while, struggling to find the right words. “Let me show you that I’m serious, Kylo.”

What was she implying? Kylo narrowed his dark eyes and examined her closer. He could almost sense how thrilled she was, almost as if the situation she was in excited her. Kylo almost smirked when he put the pieces together. She must’ve liked him. It was so clear now as she lied there, vulnerable right before him, at his mercy. Suddenly, he liked her suggestion more than he did a moment ago.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” Kylo warned her inexplicably. He walked closer to her until he stood at her side, eyes never leaving hers. He noticed a rebellious spark in hers.

“oh, wanna bet?” She had the audacity to ask him, gently tugging on the restraints that kept her put.

Many would’ve surely faced an early demise if they spoke to Kylo like that, but somehow, he enjoyed the playfulness in her voice. He wanted nothing more but to make her his, to show her what the Resistance tried to take away from her. He had long wondered if he could take on an apprentice and she was just perfect. Perhaps, it wasn’t such a silly idea to let her join them, to join him? Surely, there was a greater purpose to their connection that nightly conversations and strange, shared thoughts?

Kylo put his gloved hand on her wrist, tracing his fingers near the restraints. It amused him to see how she reacted to his touch. The needy look in her eyes grew stronger and her smirk vanished. Gosh, she almost looked desperate at this point, achingly waiting for Kylo to speak.

He let his hand travel from her wrist all the way to her neck, feeling her wild pulse under his fingertips. “Do you really think you know me?” Kylo wondered, adding a little bit of pressure into his grip.

Y/N’s eyes widened as Kylo squeezed her neck, but still, she failed to be frightened. In fact, she liked it. Her stomach felt like it twisted in a strange way and she had to squeeze her legs together, as well as she could as she was strapped down.

“You think you know what it’s like to feel the power of the dark side flow within you? To succumb to your forbidden desires. To be considered…evil?” Kylo continued to tempt her, leaning closer to her by each word he spoke.

His deep voice was like music to her ears. It felt like his speaking lulled her into a trance. Kylo Ren absolutely astonished Y/N.

“No,” She finally admitted, defeated. “But you can show me,” She continued quickly.

Kylo liked that answer. She was daring, or perhaps she didn’t have a self-protection instinct. He put his thumb on her delicious lips, feeling the warmth of her even with his gloves on. Thanks to the force, he could sense how dirty she was. He leaned nearer to her body that he sensed her heartbeat and he could smell her perfume on her neck. “Only a masochist would enjoy themselves in a situation like this, with me, the way you are enjoying it,” Kylo whispered near her ear, revealing that he knew precisely what was going through her naughty mind.

“I can’t help it,” Y/N defended herself. Now, she could only hope that Kylo wouldn’t mind her desires. She was still waiting for his answer. “Please, let me join you. I can make myself useful,” Y/N reminded him of it.

Kylo was tired of her speaking. He pushed his thumb past her lips and pushed her tongue down, keeping her quiet for a moment. At first, Y/N was surprised. Then a mischievous idea formed in her head and she closed her lips around his thumb, sucking his finger teasingly. That cast a gloom in Kylo’s brown eyes and he felt how suddenly his clothes felt tighter. He couldn’t believe she was real, how she did things many would be terrified to even think of. And he liked it.

“There’s no turning back now, Y/N,” He warned her, fully knowing that she knew that. She had thrown herself in the belly of the enemy. “If you even think of betraying us, betraying me, you’ll pay for it with your life. Is that understood?” Kylo wanted to make one thing clear.

Because of his thumb in her mouth, she couldn’t speak so she had to nod to make herself clear.

“Good girl,” Kylo praised her. Now he could finally get to the point they both clearly wanted. He had denied the truth from himself for so long, but he couldn’t continue that anymore. He was seduced by the reckless woman before him. Now she was all his.

A/N: I had to stop myself before I would’ve turned this into a long-ass one-shot. It was supposed to be a drabble. Nevertheless, I hope you liked it! :) Feedback is very much appreciated. 💚

#Kylo Ren #Kylo Ren drabble #Kylo Ren one-shot #Kylo Ren x Reader #Kylo Ren x You #Kylo Ren x Y/N

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

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Alexithymia (WITT One-Shot)

A/N: This can be considered as part of the ‘Hidden Moments’ bc is definitely canon :) (in my story lmao) -Danny

Words: 1,180

Request: I actually read WITS on AO3 lol, but happened to find it here too. I was wondering if i could get a sirius x emily fluff. Don't really know what your plans are for them, but I think they could be cute as hell together. // I went with ‘alexithymia (n) the inability to express your feelings’ bc it goes well with Sirius and Emily uwu

Series’ Masterlist

September, 1995

If there was anything Emily despised more than dark, humid places, was silence.

She could not stand it. As a girl, her house had been full of magical creatures and objects his father would bring from work, every meal was accompanied with long and interesting conversations, and when she started school she was immediately attracted to the fuss James and Sirius used to cause.

Perhaps that was the reason why she'd never reprimanded Mel for being loud and messy as a kid, maybe that was the reason why Mel had never felt the need to be quiet, perhaps the girl could feel too, that her mother needed the noise to keep going.

Maybe that was the reason why Emily and Sirius understood each other so well. Sirius was sick of the silence cause it reminded him of his time in Azkaban, and Emily would only think of the time Matthew, James and Lily had died. Every wizard and witch had gone out and celebrated Voldemort was dead, but to her, those months had been terribly silent and still.

And now, silence proved to be once again the most annoying sensation of all. The kids were back in school, nothing but the sound of the fireplace was heard in the sitting room where Emily was, writing a short letter to her daughter letting her know they were still safe.

A second noise crept in behind her, and although some other person would've certainly shivered and looked around in discomfort, Emily's first reaction was to smile.

"If you're trying to scare me, Sirius, you'll have to wait. I'm writing a letter and if you ruin it I'll hex you."

The man scoffed behind her back. He walked (normally this time) and took the seat next to her, reading over her shoulder.

"You've turned into a boring woman, that's what happened," He sulked. "We used to have great fun scaring each other to death!"

"Yeah, because we were kids," Emily replied calmly. "Now I have things to do, you as well."

"Oh yeah, dusting the bookshelf is such an urgent matter," He mocked.

"Well, it's all we can do right now, so we better start working..."

She tried to stand up, but Sirius was quick to catch her wrist.

"I can think of something else we can do with our spare time," He smirked.

"Sirius..."

"I'm only joking!" He let go of her and fell back on the couch. His expression showing deep and intense boredom. "You know I hate this house, and having to spend my afternoons cleaning it feels like hell."

"Maybe you're paying for all your sins," She joked. "And by that I mean the time you turned my hair a green moldy colour for a whole week."

"In that case, the penitence is worth it," He smiled. "You were as vain as they make 'em, if anything I helped you become a better person! I'm a good friend."

"You're a child, that's what you are," Emily huffed. "And you're one to talk about vanity! Strutting around the school like you were one in a million..."

"I was just trying to get attention, you know that!" He laughed. "I always liked the spotlight, and I can't pretend I don't miss it."

"Well, maybe once this is over you'll be able to go out and charm all the people you please," Emily said. "In the meantime, be of use and help me cook."

"I don't want other people," He said shortly.

"What do you want then?"

Sirius stared at her. He sat there and looked at the woman Emily had become. Same auburn hair, same dark eyes, and his chest tightened with the same force from years back.

There was a time when Sirius had given up completely on her, although Emily and Matthew hadn't been together for long, by the time they left Hogwarts it was clear that they were as close as you can get from having a soulmate. Emily was his friend as well as Matthew, and he wanted them to be happy.

Besides, he was a young man who was barely turning twenty. His school crush would soon be a thing of the past, and perhaps one day he'd meet a new person who would take his breath away and convince him love was real. That day never came, though.

Sirius spent twelve years in prison, he remained the same twenty-year-old, time didn't matter to him, and he would die thinking he was still a young man who'd suffered a great loss.

Then he was free, and the people who had rescued him had been none other but the children of his former friends. Sirius was forced to grow up at once, he had to face a thirty-year-old Remus and Emily, who processed their grief during the decade he'd missed.

When he saw Emily again, it felt as if it had been just a few weeks since the last time he'd visited to watch little Mel stumbling around the living room. Although a new war was keeping them locked and worried, he had a new reason to keep fighting.

What did he want?

He wanted his godson to live a long, decent life. A happy one too. He wanted to be present when Mel finally decided to step into the spotlight, she would change the world, no Dumbledore ever left this earth without being remarkable in one way or another. And, being completely honest, he wanted to spend the rest of his life next to the only woman he'd ever cherished.

Sirius tried to express all this to her. Make her see he was no child, that he was ready to fight and sacrifice and even listen to Dumbledore's stupid indications.

Instead, he just managed to shrug in that careless way of his.

Emily frowned a bit, but she quickly composed and stood up.

"Well, if you decide you want to help, you know where to find me."

Sirius watched her walk out of the room, he heard her go downstairs, doors opened and closed as she drew out the stuff she needed to cook.

Something inside the man snapped. He was tired. Tired of waiting for things to simply fall on his lap like they used to do when he was young, he hated silence, and he was positively sure that the one he hated the most, was his own.

Sirius rushed into the kitchen and stood in the entrance.

"I'm sorry," He said breathlessly. "I've made up my mind."

Emily raised a brow in amusement.

"Okay?"

Sirius walked up to her, stared into her brown eyes, and with all the conviction he could muster, he spoke as clearly as he could.

"I want you, Mily," he cupped her cheeks as gentle and soft as he possibly could. "I'm in love with you."

Emily's face lit up, she smiled at him as if he'd just offered to give her the moon.

"I love you too," She said.

Sirius laughed, and in the middle of it his voice strained, he choked on a sob and got confused for a moment. He was the happiest he'd ever been, why was he crying?

"It's okay," The woman whipped his tears away hurriedly, kissing his cheek. "It's going to be okay."

Sirius nodded, feeling he was finally home.

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic #hp hidden moments

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lovingkaneko · 5 years ago

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Ch.2: Here For Business (Colt x Mc)

Summary: He simply cannot get this girl out of his mind, good thing he sees her once again.

Author Note: I hope people find these stories someday <3 Part two of She’s Perfect. Next part here, Part one here

Book: Ride or Die: A Bad Boy Romance | Choices: Stories You Play (AU)

Pairing: Colt Kaneko x MC | Ellie Wheeler

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: VERY N*FW (Sex, Swearing)

I have never been so distracted by the thoughts of a girl before. Not even in my adolescence, the idea of being tied down to one person always disturbed me. I’d never overthink a one night stand, I would leave first thing in the morning and never turn around. But she was messing with my head, she was ruining me. I was not weak, I was not vulnerable to anyone. Especially not her.

Everyone had noticed I was on edge lately, always bouncing my leg up and down anxiously. Toby wouldn’t leave me alone, no matter how many times I’d begged him to stop asking me questions. In fact, the whole crew took turns interrogating me ever since I came back from the meeting.

“Colt,” I heard a voice call for me when I got inside, I nearly jumped a bit in shock. I was home so late that I thought everyone would’ve been asleep already. Toby was holding a magazine with a cool looking car on the front. I didn’t bother to ask about it. I wanted to go into my room and yell into a pillow.

“Hey Toby,” I answered as I placed the case filled with cash on the table where he sat. I took a seat beside him, knowing that he would want to talk about the cars in the magazine. Honestly, a distraction was exactly what I needed.

“Check this out,” He began to flip the pages, he stopped at one and when he turned to look at me, his jaw dropped.

“Wait a minute, what is THAT?” He reached his hand to move the collar of my jacket, examining my neck. I grasped his thin wrist and pulled his hand away.

“Don’t even--”

“I thought you were in a meeting?” He asked, curiosity obvious in his voice. I nodded slowly, biting the inside of my cheek nervously, hoping he’d stop asking questions.

“Unless... OH MY GOD?!” Toby connected the dots and placed his hand over his mouth to contain himself from screaming.

“You hooked up with Wheeler’s daughter?!” He asked way too loudly, I was about to tell him to shut up before Mona came into the room.

“Wait a second, who did what now?” Her eyebrows were raised and her jaw was dropped, clearly in shock.

“Colt had sex with--”

“Jesus Christ, Toby! Shut up,” I groaned into my hands as I realized they would never let this go.

“If her dad finds out, you’re dead meat,” Mona explained as she shook her head sarcastically. I was silent, I had no idea she was his daughter.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

“I heard that her dad found out she was dating a member of another crew and scared the guy so bad that he moved across the country,” Toby explained to me enthusiastically, as if this was funny.

The one girl I ever showed interest in, the ONE person that I allow to roam through my mind... She just had to be the completely unattainable.

“Good luck with that,” Mona patted my shoulder as I groaned. She subtly moved my jacket over to examine my neck as Toby had.

“Hey!” I called out and pushed her hand away.

“Oh my. I never thought Colt, motherfucking, Kaneko would let a chick mark him up. Today is one wild day,” Mona teased as she laughed and left me alone with Toby.

“I’m outta here,” I stood up, waving at Toby and ignoring his pleads for details.

Since then, they haven’t let me live it down. Even Ximena knew what happened at this point, her reaction was even worse than Toby and Mona combined.

“You’re so grown up now,” She wiped a fake tear as she watched me walk into the room the next day.

“God dammit,” I muttered and attempted to ignore her cooing at me like a baby.

But even through all of this, I couldn’t help but wish to see her again. I was at the front desk again, doodling in my journal. It’s not a fucking diary, Toby.

I only found myself drawing her body over and over, although I had never seen her undressed... My imagination could do incredible things. Most of the sketches were of her leaning on her bike, arms crossed. Sometimes, I’d catch myself drawing her eyes on the paper, her long eyelashes curling up.

“Son,” Came a voice, making me jump awake, as if I was in a daze thinking about Ellie Wheeler. What the fuck was wrong with me lately?

“Are you drawing?” My dad asked and I roughly shut the notebook closed. I cleared my throat.

“No.”

“Alright then... The Wheelers have made a special request for our next deal,” He explained seriously, and I found myself lighten up at the news.

“What would that be?” I asked nonchalantly.

“You’re the only one who can do the deals. For some reason, the girl has a preference as to who she meets with. She chose you, son.”

She remembered to tell her dad. She remembered me and wants to see me again. My heart leaped at the idea of being with her. Gross.

“When will I be seeing her again?” I asked, trying my best to not sound excited.

“You sound eager to meet with her again,” He stated blankly.

“What? Of course not, I’m simply asking because--”

“I don’t need an explanation.”

I felt a bit saddened, but not surprised. My pops never wanted to hear me out.

“She’ll be here tonight, her dad wants her to check out some of the cars we have. They’ll be buying from us again for her birthday,” He grinned, enthused to receive another great amount of money. I could truly care less about the payment. I just wanted to see her.

“Alright,” I said, understanding. He patted my shoulder.

“Seems you were a good representative, good enough that she wanted to see you specifically. I’m proud of you, boy.”

Those were words I’ve never heard from him, even he was shocked by what he said. I gave him a nod and he walked out without another word. I was beyond happy at this moment, nothing could possibly kill my mood.

Until...

“Psst, Colt!” whispered a voice behind me that I recognized to be Toby.

“What?” I asked as I felt irritation enter my body.

“Ellie’s coming tonight, the crew is gonna head out to do... Stuff. This means you’ll be alone with her, you’re welcome,” He teased.

“Get out of my face right now,” I closed my eyes with anger as I realized the crew was trying to set me up with her.

“Logan will be here too, though. But I bet you can sneak away for a few moments without him noticing.”

“Out.”

At exactly eight, I heard a motorcycle outside the shop. My heart raced and I took a few breaths to calm myself down, why was I reacting like this? She’s just another girl I’ve been with. I got a grip and fixed my jacket. I heard footsteps approaching. Then... I saw her. All reasoning in my head had died off and I couldn’t help but smile. She was just as gorgeous as I remembered her. Except, I could see her features clearer with the lights of the shop.

“Excited to see me, Kaneko?”

“You’re punctual,” I managed to say after collecting myself, I sounded confident.

“What can I say? I would hate to waste time,” She smirked and looked around at the cars surrounding us.

“I was surprised to hear you wanted a car, I thought you loved your bike,” I asked as I walked closer to her.

“Well... I’ve decided to try new things,” She answered and went silent for a few moments, “Show me what you’ve got.”

“Alright,” I guided her over to the cars and she listened to me explain them.

“This is the fastest car we’ve got, a 2019--” I was saying but she groaned.

“You don’t care about the cars, do you?” I asked and brought myself to finally look into her eyes.

“God, of course not. There’s something I want more than a stupid car.”

My breath got caught in my throat, she surprised me constantly. Just as we were approaching each other, I heard footsteps.

“Is that the one and only Ellie Wheeler?” asked a voice that I immediately recognized. My fists clenched as I stared at the person I hated most in this world. Logan.

“Depends who’s asking,” She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms as she looked at the intruder. Logan gave her a flirty smile and I wanted to knock him out cold, but I knew better than to do that.

“I’m Logan,” He took a few seconds before continuing, “I never thought I’d be so fortunate to see a girl like you in person.”

“Lucky you,” She flirted back and I felt myself fuming.

“Sorry to cut in, but I was just showing her the selection of cars. She’s here for business, not to hear you try and get in her pants,” I blurted out without meaning to. Logan’s eyebrows raised and I swear I heard Ellie chuckle.

“I could take it from here. I definitely know more about these cars than you do,” He suggested and Ellie responded quickly.

“No need, Colt is doing just fine.” With that said, Logan’s eyebrows lifted in shock once again.

“If you say so, gorgeous. I hope to have the luck to see you again soon,” He licked his lips and waved before leaving the room.

“Gosh, what a whore,” She sighed as he left. I couldn’t hold back a laugh at her words. She said exactly what I was thinking, “You’re wrong, though,” She continued.

“What?”

“I’m not here for car business,” She smirked smugly and wrapped her arms around my neck, slowly bringing my down to her level.

“The deal is still on, you owe me,” She breathed into my ear. Her lips trailed down to my neck and she pressed a soft kiss to it.

“You up for round two?” She asked and my breath hitched. I didn’t answer her, instead, I brought her lips to mine and kissed her roughly. She moaned into my mouth and I guided her onto the nearest desk, thankfully an empty one. I couldn’t wait any longer, I wanted to make this girl feel things that she had never felt. I wanted to hear my name rolling off her tongue as I pleased her in sinful ways.

At this point, I could care less about my own pleasure. I owed her and I was going to make her trip here worth it. I sucked on her neck, finding the spot that made her gasp and squirm on the desk under her. She was breathing heavily as I continued to trail my teeth.

“Colt,” She managed to say, her voice shaking.

“Yes?” I asked as I unbuttoned her blouse.

“Please,” a whisper so desperate, I wondered what she would do right now if I didn’t comply to her orders.

“Please what? What do you want me to do?” I pressed my lips onto her breasts kissing slowly, as I moved her bra aside to take a nipple into my mouth.

“Fuck,” She whimpered as I swirled my tongue around, “Please.”

“Say it, baby, and I’ll give it to you. Anything.”

“I want you to-- Oh my god,” Her eyes rolled back as I pressed a hand onto her pussy. Her chest heaved and she had tears forming.

“Fuck me, please, Colt.”

Those were all the words I needed to hear, I unbuttoned her shorts and pulled them down along with her underwear. I continued to lick my way down her body, pressing kisses every now and then. I finally reached eye level with her sweet opening.

Her hands made their way into my hair, tugging with need. I gave her one long lick and she hissed with pleasure, her legs shaking.

I continued to do my work, now focusing on her clit, my fingers positioning around her entrance. Once they were inside, she moaned loudly. Normally, I would’ve freaked out by her volume, but it was only Logan. I wanted him to hear her, I wanted him to witness the noises that I managed to get out of her.

I pumped my fingers in and out of her at a speed that made her pull my hair as she breathed heavily. I felt her walls tighten and I knew she was close. I continued to move my hand inside of her, but brought my lips up to kiss her. She kissed me like I was oxygen and she was suffocating. Her teeth sunk into my bottom lip and I knew she was done for. With one last push inside, she let out the hottest sigh I’ve ever heard. Her head fell onto my neck and she whispered my name over and over.

“You’re so good, baby,” I whispered into her ear as I felt all the power in her body give out, she was doing her best to ride down her orgasm. After a few minutes of silence as she caught her breath, she chuckled.

“I guess we’re even now.”

#colt kaneko #colt x mc #ride or die choices #n*fw #playchoices fanfic #choices #choices fanfiction

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ramblinganthropologist · 4 years ago

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N7 Challenge 27 - Trauma

Summary: Everyone has a way of dealing with trauma. For Alistair Shepard, it’s therapy. For Bo Peep Shepard... well, wrestling krogans in Omega did wonders for her mood. At least they can both agree on the healing power of a good cup of tea, right?

---

“Well... good to see you again, Alistair. Let me know when you're back on the Citadel so we can make your next appointment.”

“Thanks, Dr. Gatherer... I'll see you then.”

Alistair sighed as he left the office and Dr. Rabbit Gatherer behind him. The waiting room was mostly empty as he exited the office, head still spinning. It had been... quite a while since he had been back to see his therapist.

For once, it wasn't work's fault though. Instead he had just been fucking dead for two years.

“Good thing she could fit me in though.” He sighed as he pulled his hood up to hide his face once he was back in the Citadel proper. For reasons that would surprise no one, people were a little uncomfortable when someone walked around with their face glowing. He was still trying to figure out how to cover up the implants, but so far no methods were really working. It wouldn't have been so bad if they didn't glow bright red... but they did, so he was out of luck.

That was kind of the motto of his life lately.

“So is it good therapy when you come out looking miserable, or what?”

He looked up – there was someone standing under a nearby tree, waiting for him with their arms crossed. Once she was spotted, Bo broke position and made her way over to him. Now together, the two continued their walk.

Her answer came with a shrug of his shoulders. “We have a lot more material to go over because of the whole death thing.”

“Really? I had no idea that sort of thing could be traumatic.” Bo snorted. “What, she tell you to try deep breathing or something?”

Bo, unsurprisingly, was not a big fan of therapy. She usually managed to bullshit her way through evaluations when the matter came up, so it had never really been required for her. He, on the other hand, wasn't as good.

Which was why he had been in therapy since Akuze. But he didn't mind that, Dr. Gatherer was an alright sort.

“This was more of a catch up than a deep dive. That's next time.” He shrugged. “And mostly she recommended me so I can get back on my meds. That initial dose of feel good juice is unsurprisingly wearing off.”

Why hadn't Miranda fixed that when she had brought him back from the dead? It would've saved him so much in anti-anxiety meds...

“Smart lady.” She jerked her head in the direction of a bar nearby. “Wanna go or what, it's been a while since it was the two of us. They have new shit.”

Alistair nodded as they changed direction. “Yeah, it's been a while. I could use a cup.”

Naturally, they walked past the noisy bar and headed to the quiet shop next door instead. The Tea Cozy was a haunt of theirs, had been since they had returned from N7 training. He was glad to see it had been rebuilt after the attack on the Citadel – shore leave would've been a worse off place without the bright little place.

Besides, they made really good strawberry tea. He hadn't even mentioned the cookies.

Inside, they were soon seated with a pot of tea and some of the famous cookies. Alistair sighed in relief as he pulled his hood down and filled his cup. Looking down, the tea was almost as red as his implants. It made him grimace as he took a sip.

Bo didn't miss a thing, naturally. “What, does it suck or something?”

He shook his head, frowning. “No... it's the same color as... you know.”

Alistair made a vague gesture to his face. With the longer hair he could hide the wide cuts across his jaw and forehead, but he knew they were there. He was afraid to touch his face now, lest he accidentally go a little too far and actually touch under his skin.

He had enough phobias, he didn't need another.

“Still can't figure out how to make them blue, huh?”

A weak chuckle escaped his throat despite how he was feeling. “Dr. Chakwas said I probably shouldn't in case I really mess something up.”

“Oh, shit, yeah knowing you you'd probably pop your head off or something.” She let out a low whistle. “Just imagine it, you're trying to change the color and then Saren has to chase after it to get it back on your body.”

…

Honestly, knowing his body and how quickly it had been put back together, that didn't seem entirely out of the realm of possibility. Hell, Miranda probably had put it in there as a booby trap if he tried anything stupid. He wasn't about to put it past them...

And now he really was laughing as his forehead hit the table, barely missing the saucer. “And how the hell does my hamster get out of his enclosure?”

“Clearly you were playing with him before your head popped off.”

Bo was smirking, though she was hiding it with her teacup. He definitely heard a small chuckle from her, so clearly it was fucking hilarious. Or maybe that was the exhaustion. It had been a pretty rough couple of days, and the skylight didn't help.

Right...

Alistair straightened up and dried off his eyes. “That reminds me. When we get back to the Normandy, can you help me cover the skylight above my bed?”

His reinstated XO nodded as she reached for a cookie. “Sure, but why? Thought you loved looking at space to calm down.”

He had... before he had died out there.

That was his latest problem, something he hadn't even realized until they had been on the shuttle leaving the base. He had gone to look out the window and then broke out in a cold sweat at the sight of the great expanse that stretched out before him. Now, he couldn't so much as look at the night sky without feeling pains in his stomach.

They were going to get into that in his next therapy session, but Dr. Gatherer was pretty sure that dying was fucking with his mental health. He was no expert on that, but he was going to trust her where space-related PTSD was concerned.

“Let's just say it's not good for my health right now.”

That was all Bo needed to hear. She nodded. “Right. Doctor's orders?”

“Doctor's suggestion, they can't really make you do anything.”

Bo shrugged her large shoulders. “Not like I would know, I'd rather get stuck in an elevator with two dead krogan than go to a shrink.”

Oh, it was up from one dead krogan and a rabid pyjak.

Alistair knew when to let something go. So he just nodded and continued to sip at his tea. At least now that he was over the color, he could enjoy the taste more. With all the craziness going on, it was nice to just have some tea and cookies with his XO/adopted sister.

Weird combo, he knew, but it was their thing. And speaking of weird...

“So... I never got to ask how you got into Krogan wrestling with everything that happened on Omega. How'd you pull that one off?”

He got to watch as she flexed a little. “Oh, it was easy. I found where they were holding it and cracked the bouncer into the arena wall until they let me in to a no-rank match. After I cracked a few skulls, they start letting me play in the ranked matches.”

And then she went 24-0.

“It was one hell of a stress relief, I'll give them that.” She rolled her shoulders and he could hear things popping and cracking like she was made of breakfast cereal. “I mean, they're not exactly big on strategy when they get in the ring. I mean I'm not either, but they made me look like you out there sometimes.”

Given what he had seen, Alistair could certainly believe that. The one match he had witnessed before pulling the champion away from her adoring fans had been brutal and short. He could pinpoint the major strategy easily: beat the shit out of the other guy before he did the same to you. No wonder Omega loved it so much.

Maybe he sounded a little snooty there... but he preferred a bit more challenge in his blood sport.

“Well, at least you had fun.”

Bo snickered at that. “Oh yeah, I loved it. Really took my mind off...”

And her voice trailed off. Briefly, her crimson gaze met his, but then it disappeared as she took a hearty slurp of her tea. Once her cup was drained, she filled it to the brim. Even with her tight grip, she didn't crack the cup.

Cracking cups was a sin in the Tea Cozy. The last guy had gotten thrown out on his ass.

“Anyway, once this is over I'm going back for a few more rounds. There should be some new punk coming for my title and I need to teach him a little respect.”

Alistair nodded as he reached for a cookie. “If you get me a ticket, I'll make a banner or something.”

“Nope, not allowed anymore. Someone tossed one down to a competitor and he tried to strangle me with it.” She tapped her forehead. “Obviously it didn't work.”

Obviously.

They were getting to the bottom of their pot of tea, and the Normandy was probably going to wonder where they were. As fun as it was sitting there... they probably had to consider getting back to hunting Collectors soon.

Which... was the last thing he wanted.

“Any chance we can just sit here and let Cerberus die trying to catch the Collectors?”

Bo sounded almost hopeful as she drained the last of her cup in one mighty gulp. Truly, it sounded like a great idea... until he considered Cerberus and Collectors in the same sentence. If he hadn't had a stomachache before, he had one now that led him to finishing up his cup and placing it back on the saucer with a slight clink.

“Unfortunately, no. They might try to give my hamster over to the Collectors to save their asses.”

The other Spectre scowled at the thought as they both headed off to pay and leave. “Fuck that, Saren's way too good for Cerberus.”

That he was.

But, he didn't exactly have a gun he could fire at Cerberus should they try to hand him over to the Collectors. They didn't exactly make pistols for tiny hamster paws – not that he had checked or anything. So, if he wanted his hamster safe, he had to make sure of it himself.

Which meant back to the Normandy. Yay.

“So, wanna come back the next time you get your head shrunk by the doc?”

Bo had settled into her usual walk, arms behind her head in a classic 'fuck around and find out' gesture she was known for. It wasn't one he could pull off, so he stuck to hands in the pockets of his jacket. It was much more comfortable.

“Sure, I'll probably need it to de-stress anyway.” He could see the Normandy in the distance. It was still yellow. Gross. “You sure you don't want me to make you an appointment?”

The look he got in return said everything. Unfortunately for her, it didn't really do anything to him anymore. Enough times of seeing it had built up one hell of a tolerance. Now it was just a sign she didn't want to talk.

He could respect that.

“By the way, when are we repainting the Normandy? Yellow is such a fucking gross color.”

Now that they could talk about. And oh, he ha plans alright. It just involved distracting the entire ship while Bo went around with a brush. It was practically foolproof...

Ok, it was dumb. But he was working on it. And according to his therapist, as long as he didn't give up he could figure it out.

#n7month #ramblinganthropologist's writing #Alistair Shepard #Bo Peep Shepard

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roseamongroses · 5 years ago

Text

W.A.L: “We Won’t Eat Our Words (they don’t taste so good),” (16)

s u m m a r y:

Eden was the lowest of the low, a monster, hardly human, and was set to be executed. Roman was on trial, perpetually stuck in time until it was time to atone for his families sins.

Neither cared much for staying trapped.

So when a Stranger offered freedom, offered peace, offered power, it was hard to say no.

Even if it put them on the wrong side of history.

v i b e s :

time is irrelevent, homophobia who?, magic and beasts, demigods

w a r n i n g s

Imprisonment, Mentions of execution, Blood/ injuries, Mentions of past Death, minor character death/suicide, repression, cursing,

c h a r a c t e r s

Deceit(Eden) Sanders, Remy Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Emile Picani

Ship: Roceit

1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

(6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

(12) (13) (14) (15)

It’s a closet.

A glorified closet, so Deceit honestly doesn’t know what to tell you about it other then it's dark, it's cramped, and that Logan is insistent that they absolutely cannot eavesdrop on Dr. Picani and Lazy Cow and instead must stew in this dark, did he mention cramp closet?

Deceit was reaching the point of boredom where he was tempted, ever so slightly to just leave and keep walking. He felt that impulse as well as the impulse to get nostalgic because Deceit had been shoved into a lot of closets for a lot of reasons. Some not good, some...more enjoyable, but most a tantalizing mixture of both.

Before he could indulge, the door abruptly opened, light streaking inside. Dr. Picani was a stark shadow looming above them. He seemed to have aged several years within the past few minutes, but his expression was the same pleasant, not quite a smile, not quite a frown so that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed a change if they were under the assumption that Dr. Emile Picani was a pleasant person. But Deceit didn’t think many people were pleasant, himself included, so he assumed the worst and didn’t question it further.

“Oh,” Dr. Picani said, but not to them, “You didn’t turn on the lights,” he said, snapping and like that, Deceit felt exposed, one by one candle on either side of a long aisle lit up, seemingly forever.

Dr. Picani didn’t step inside, “Take as long as you want, but know that I’ll be busy if anything arises,” He handed them a phone, “Use this if you have an emergency, but only if you have an emergency,” He handed the phone to Logan, not even waiting for protests or goodbyes, it felt familiar.

He was gone leaving the three of them in this long corridor, light flickering gently, beckoning them forward into the stretch of darkness.

---

“Back so soon?” The Stranger asked from the floor. Their dark hair spilled over his shoulders, long, much longer then it had been when he first came here. His clothes hung loosely from their now gaunt form, their blue eye focused on the unending white space above.

Emile clicked his pen, “I’m here for your evaluation,” he said.

“Sure you are, “ The Stranger batted his eyes, lips curled, predatory.

Emile ignored them, not even a glance up from their clipboard, “He died.”

The Stranger faltered, “He resigned?” he asked.

“Yes,” he said, “He found out about Dot and I guess he...I don’t know what he thought was going to happen. But I certainly didn’t stop him, it was his right.”

“It was his--” The Stranger scowled, “Why are you justifying this, the hell is wrong with you?" he hissed, standing all at once, “Did you even try to stop him? Did you even try to console him or did you just sit there like a fucking bitch on a leash again--”

“Oh, you’re trying to lord over me,” Emile sneered, “You use her, you’ve used him, every step of the way and you dare to say I don’t care,” He glanced down at his clipboard surprised, ink running as tears ran hot down his face, “She wouldn’t have been in the situation if you’d just… just,” he wiped his eyes, “Leave it be. Whatever you were planning, let’s just leave it behind.” he choked, running his hands in his hair, “Let’s --Let’s,” he stumbled forward and the Strange caught him, surprised.

“Emile?” The Stranger, wrapped his arms around their shoulders, feeling them shake, “Emile, you’re not making any sense, it’s too late for any of that...”

Emile looked up and The Stranger’s breath caught. His hair was messy, their face all blotchy and glasses askew, they were like a little kid, “I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I don’t want to fight anymore I don’t know what I, what I...”

“Darling, how exactly do you plan to get us out of this then,” The Stranger reasoned, smoothing their bangs back with soft touches, “It won’t last, we never do--”

Emile kissed the Stranger, hard, desperate like how the Stranger’s kissed him so many times before. And the Stranger kissed back. He ached, as Emile’s hands cupped his face, tugged his body as if trying to get him closer as if for the first time he was trying.

“Em, ” The Stranger felt his back hit some sort of wall, and he groaned feeling Emile press into him again, “Oh, that’s one way to say you're happy to see me,”

Emile laughed between his hiccups, hands gripping The Stranger’s hips as he rested his head in the crook of their neck, “Mm, “ he hummed, “Something like that.”

“Y’know, what you said about me…” The Stranger swallowed, “ About me being no better than you, about how I used them…”

The Stranger could feel them frown against his skin, “You know I didn’t mean it,” Emile promised, it was so strange to hear him be the one to promise such things. It’s been so long, too long.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” The Stranger reassured them, because after so many messy breakups, and messier arguments they said a lot of untruthful things about each other, “But I mean it when I say, I did use him,” he admitted, fingers tracing careful arcs in Emile’s chest, eyes bright, “The Old Man tried so hard to prove that I was worth something, but I did use him. And I would’ve done it again,”

“That’s not true…” Emile’s words were disconnected, his mouth like cotton as he looked up to meet the Stranger’s eyes, so desperate, so pleading, so...vulnerable.

“I mean it,” The Stranger said cooly, “I used Dot, but she knows that she’s fine with that--and,” he did not stutter, “I love you, you know that? I loved you for so long, but--”

“But? What are you--” Emile’s eyes grew wide as he tried to move away, to let go, but his body remained firmly in place, holding the Stranger so gentle as the Stranger’s soft touches grew cold.

“I love you, Emile,” The Stranger repeated as if it’d change it all, as if years from now they’ll laugh at this and it would be fine because he did love Emile and some time ago Emile may have loved him just as much, “But we we're never meant to last, I’m building something that will last.”

Emile’s eyes flickered with recognition, feeling the all-too-familiar probing of his mind sneak up on him all at once, “No-no-no, you can’t,” He pleaded, “why can’t we leave it--”

“Elliot.” The Stranger’s command was sharp.

And Emile, his team-mate, his jailer, his stubborn lover who was all too persistent and steadfast in all the wrong things, was out like a light.

---

It was a long trek into the darkness, the candles providing little light and even less warmth as they walked down the corridor. Virgil first, who navigated easily, his many eyes dilated, flickering at every shadow and noise. Then it was Deceit because it would be foolish not to keep an eye on him, and then Logan, the one keeping an eye on him.

“Does this go on forever,” Virgil complained.

“Are your legs bothering you?” Logan asked, and Deceit groaned. They were doing the thing where they talk through Deceit as if that makes their relationship any less awkward.

“No it's my-I didn’t say that,” Virgil sniffed, catching himself again, though Deceit could tell he was getting slower or at least he was more distracted. Still, whether that was attributed to fatigue was anybody's bet.

“If you didn’t want a response, you shouldn’t have said anything,” Logan replied.

Virgil spun around at that, now walking backwards, “How do you know I was talking to you, huh?” he said, face pinched, “I could’ve been talking to the snake-fucker for all you know.”

Logan sighed, “Were you, Virgil?”

Virgil snorted, “Of course not--Shit-” As he spun back around he slammed into a wall, Deceit slammed into him, and Logan slammed into Deceit.

“What was that…” Virgil groaned, staggering to their feet.

“A wall,” Deceit drawled, eyes flickering over the heavily carved wall.

“I think he means,” Logan stood up, readjusting their glasses, “What does it mean,” Deceit rolled his eyes, “It looks ancient, Alesener maybe.”

“Oh great, “ Virgil sighed, “It's not like they stopped teaching Alesener, years ago.”

“I’m sure there’s another way,” Logan said, inspecting the carvings, frown growing deeper, “Maybe I can pull up a translator,”

“On ancient Alesner?” Virgil's nose curled, hands tracing the markings, “Sure.”

“Well I don’t see you having any ideas--”

“It's a riddle.” Deceit cut in. Normally he’d just, let them figure it out and play dumb, but he didn’t want to stay here in a children’s maze with these two bickering.

“A riddle,” Virgil echoed lamely.

“A riddle.” Deceit confirmed glancing at the wall again, mostly for show.

Wall carvings were a common form of decoration in the Alesener village, but they were usually nonsense since the art was less in the meaning and more in the elegance the words form. Dot, however, seems to enjoy both. Her walls were littered with puns and riddles, all of which seemed profound at first, but after the extensive translation was more often than not children’s puns at best or dirty jokes at worst.

“How would you know that?” Logan asked, but in a tone that sounded more like a demand than anything.

“Yeah, you're not exactly a scholar,” Virgil said with a skeptical look.

“Like it's any of your business,” Deceit scoffed, before thoughtfully scanning the riddle again, “What I’m getting is that we need a map and the map is most likely…” Deceit frowned, “The truth?”

“Ah, it’s that type of maze,” Logan nodded as if that made perfect sense, “To enter each new part of the maze, someone in the group needs to admit a truth, the stronger the truth, the faster we get out of the maze.” he recited without faltering, “Usually it's harder then you realize to tell a perfect truth, so we have to be careful, these usually have some sort of...difficulty increase if someone lies.”

“Difficulty?” Deceit eyed the wall cautiously as if it’ll burn.

“Monster’s perhaps,” Logan shrugged, “Or it might make it harder to get out.”

“Fantastic,” Virgil sighed, “So how do we, y’ know, get goin’?”

“Easy,” Logan approached the wall, raising a hand and pressing it in the center of the deep markings, “I am an Apprentice,” he said and at first nothing happened.

Then there was the groaning, the stone wall scraping, inch by inch open, before revealing two pathways. Logan stepped forward, and the others followed.

If they had looked behind them, they would have seen the candles flicker behind them, getting taller, their golden flames unruly and leaving puddles in their wake. And once the wall shut again the dancing flames went out all at once.

#ts sides #sanders sides #roceit #ts deceit #ts roman #deceit sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #Winners Among the Losing

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steebrogurz · 5 years ago

Text

Just Friends

request: Can you write Bucky x reader pls? A week after they broke up the seemingly "just friends-with-benefits" relationship and he's a complete mess...

w/c: 1591

warnings: angst, a little bit of smut (18+ only)

a/n: holy shit this took some time!! :P thank you so much for the request and I he you enjoy it! as always please reblog and comment I live for your feedback and always appreciate it when you spread my work if you have a request or a prompt or even a vague sense of an idea send it here (also the gif is not mine I got it from google)

It had been a week since Bucky last saw you. A week since he felt your hand trace patterns on his skin as you lay side by side on your bed. A week since he heard you moan into his ear as he pushed into you and he was barely holding it together. He barely spoke to anyone anymore and he spent most of his time locked in his room staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts of you.

Bucky popped open a bottle of Asgardian ale and took a long swig. The sweet bite of the alcohol momentarily cleared his head but seconds later he head was filled with the memory of when you first proposed being friends with benefits.

Sitting in your livingroom, you brought the glass of whiskey to your ruby lips and took a delicate sip. Your cheeks were flushed and there was a slight far-away look in your eyes.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we both have needs, right?" You placed a warm hand on his knee and gave him a wide smile. "I think we can help each other with those needs."

You were so beautiful, your eyes sparkled in the low light from the lamp in the corner and he wasn’t complaining about the view of your thigh as the hem of your dress rode up when you crossed your legs. He chuckled at your words and took a sip from his own glass feeling all of the burn but none of its effects. You shifted towards him, pulling his glass from his hands and set both yours and his on your coffee table.

“How does that sound?” you whispered against the shell of his ear as you ran your hand over his chest. He turned his head to look at you and your lips were on his in an instant, your tongue ran along his bottom lip and he lost himself in the feeling of your body on his.

Bucky shook his head to clear his mind of the memory and took another swig from the bottle. The pattern continued, he’d drink and a memory would resurface. After the tenth drink he was beginning to feel a buzz through his body, he picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He paused with his thumb hovering over your name trying to fight the desire to hear your voice. Giving in, he pressed your contact on his phone and held it up to his ear, hoping you’ll answer.

“Hello?” you were slightly breathless as you answered the phone and he could almost imagine you whispering in his ear again. Light music and the faint sound of laughter filtered through the phone and his heart jumped into this throat.

“Hello,” you asked again with a tone of annoyance. “Bucky, I know you’re there, what do you want?”

He sighed and cleared his throat. “I heard a song today that reminded me of you.” It was a lie but he needed to say something before you hung up on him.

The background noise from your end died away and he could imagine you stepping into another room. The image of you silently closing a bedroom door to talk brought a smile to his face that quickly disappeared at your next words.

“Bucky you can’t be doing this,” your voice softened as you spoke. “I broke this… arrangement off for a reason, please don’t do this to me.” There was a waver in your voice and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest.

Bucky nodded staring into the honey coloured liquid. “I know, I just- I miss you. I’m sorry for everything I said before, I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t know what I wanted. Can we just go back to the way things were?” There was a pause and he held in breath waiting for your response.

“I don't think we can, I told you when we started that I didn't want a relationship, that what we had was purely physical. I can't go on with this knowing you feel more than I do, I'm sorry."

He shook his head in an attempt to clear the fog that prevented him from forming a complete thought. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I can’t keep doing this with you Bucky!” Your voice turned icy and Bucky winced at the sound, he could hear the anger and annoyance in your voice. He never wanted to make you feel like this. When it came to you he only wanted to make you feel good. “I can't give you what you want."

“I know, can we just- can we just talk about this?” He took a deep, steadying breath. “Please?”

“I can’t right now, call me tomorrow when you’ve sobered up.” He could hear the sounds of conversations come through the phone as you joined the party again. “Goodbye Bucky,” you hung up before he could say anything else and he threw the phone against the wall shattering it completely.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself and downed the rest of the bottle in hopes that he would finally be able to sleep without the images of you drifting through his dreams.

Thanks to the serum, Bucky woke up the next day without a hangover, but the events before he fell asleep were a bit fuzzy and it took him a second to remember. Did he call someone last night? He picked up his phone from the floor at the other side of his room and groaned at the shattered screen. Whoever he spoke to it wasn't a happy conversation.

That afternoon he made his way into the city to get a replacement phone. Tony had offered many times to set him up with the newest gadgets he could make but Bucky refused every time, he was happy with just a simple phone to make calls with and nothing else, he still didn’t understand the meaning of social media. The whole errand took less than an hour so he decided to walk the streets and spend some time in the fresh air. He was definitely missing it after spending so much of his week in the stale air of his room.

Bucky found himself walking the paths of Central Park and a familiar laugh sounded a few feet away on the other side of a cluster of trees, he could feel his heart pound in his chest as he inched closer trying to catch a glimpse of you. He slowly stepped around the trees and stopped when he saw you.

As soon as he saw you the conversation from last night came rushing back and the broken phone now made sense. He stood there rooted to the spot admiring the way your hair shone in the afternoon sunlight. You sat on a picnic blanket with your back to him beside a woman he didn't recognize and his heart clenched when she said something to you and you threw your head back in laughter. You reached up and brushed her hair over her shoulder and whispered something in her ear.

He was sitting on your couch with his pants down around his ankles, you had your dress hiked up around your waist and your eyes closed in pure pleasure as you rode him. He teased one of your nipples through the fabric of your dress and let out a sinful moan at his touch.

Bucky gripped your hips as you moved, you opened your eyes and fixed him with a sultry smile just as his orgasm rolled through him. Your own orgasm came shortly after and you stayed there with him still inside you. Both of you breathing heavily as you came down from your high, you slowly reached up and brushed a lock of brown hair away from his face and leaned forward so that your lips were right above his ear.

"I love how you feel inside me." You smiled at the shiver that rippled through him as you pressed small kisses to the side of his neck.

Caught up in the euphoria of his orgasm and the feeling of your body against his, he spoke the first words that popped into his head. "I love you."

Bucky tore himself out of the memory that seized his mind at the sight of you. He was already filled regret over losing you, he didn't need to be reminded of the exact moment when that happened. Those three small words ruined everything between you and him and if he had just kept his damn mouth shut that would've been him sitting beside you enjoying the sunlight.

Instead, you were out with her and he was left to try and move on from a relationship he never had with you, and he didn't know if he'd ever be able to fully move on. You held a place in his heart that felt so complete that he couldn't imagine anyone else taking your place, it just didn't feel right. He thought back to what you said to him before hanging up last night call me when you’ve sobered up, and briefly considered doing just that but seeing you with her happy and laughing he knew you would never feel the same way as he did for you. Things would never go back to how they were before and as much as he hated it, he needed to try and forget you. He needed to forget the woman who had already forgotten him.

#Bucky x Reader #james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #reader insert #bucky reader insert #fic request #marvel #the winter solider x reader #The Winter Soldier #Brenna writes

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cherry-writes-stuff · 7 years ago

Note

Prompt for Tyki with his female exorcist S/O when their fighting on the battlefield field. Tyki was supposed to kill them but they ended up doing something more fluffy and heated. *wink, wink* Tyki's female exorcist S/O says: Prompt: “Missed me, missed me now you got to kiss me.”

LISTEN, listen, LiStEn, this is my first sin?? I mean it’s not full out blown sin but it is a semi-sin. this bitch is 2,600 words?? enjoy??

WARNING: nsfw

Eyes twinkling, full of mischief and mirth, lips pulled back into a mocking grin and wild hair being whipped around by the wind. That is how Tyki had her memorized in his mind. Carefree and full of life and energy.

Trying to track her down was hard enough, but catching her? Nearly impossible. Just when he was about to wrap his arms around her, imprison her in some way in order to finish his job, she jumped out of his reach and his hands grabbed empty air instead. Meanwhile, she would taunt him, and when his annoyance showed on his face she would laugh. A sweet and joyful laugh. A sound that pacified him and annoyed him simultaneously, because, why did it had such an effect on him? He was supposed to be killing her and not stare at her in awe as she dashed away.

Today, he told himself. Today I kill her.

Tyki sent another shot of dark matter towards the exorcist but she dodged it, just as he expected she would. She just wouldn't die. It was annoying and frustrating, but most of all it was fun. All his other victims never put up that much of a fight, they never laughed as he chased them down, or taunt him, or smile the way she smiled.

As if on cue he heard her voice calling out to him, teasing him. “ It’s like you’re not even trying anymore. You’re not going soft on me, are you?” Sending her a predatory grin on his own he blasted the rocky ceiling above her. She didn't realized what he was doing and continued with her teasing. “Miss me, miss me now you gotta kiss me-whoa!”

The cave they were fighting was crumbling due to Tyki’s attack. A small piece of debris hit the girl on the shoulder and she stumbled, finally ceasing her jumping. The playful expression on her face immediately got replaced by shock as her eyes shone with understanding, then panic.

Tyki was already out of the cave and waiting for her. He was hoping that she would be hurt enough not to prance around anymore. He had to end that little game of theirs for it had dragged out far too long, and he was starting to lose impatiens he never knew he had. Still, he wondered. “You’re not going soft on me, are you?” Normally, he would ignore the jabs she sent his way but this struck too close to home because yes, he was starting to realize that in the past few days he had been trying less and less to catch her.

Tyki frowned and glanced back at the cave, eyes hardening in determination. Losing his edge was a no-no, especially with the other Noahs breathing down his neck about the female exorcist. They were all surprised that Tyki hadn't finished her by now. If Wisely got into his head and saw those thoughts...well, that would not be good, at all.

The cave collapsed completely and for a second Tyki thought that the female exorcist didn't made it out, but as the smoke cleared he saw her standing in front of the ruined entrance. It looked like she barely made it out. One of her arms was hanging limply at her side with a huge gash going from her forearm and down. The inside of her palm was soaked with blood. She was using her other arm to wipe the blood out of a small cut at the edge of her forehead. The dark red liquid had spilled over her eyes and was running down her jaw. Her legs trembled from the effort of keeping her up. Honestly, she looked like she went to Hell and back, but that didn't stopped her from glaring at him with burning rage.

Tyki was repelled at the sight of her fiery eyes staring at his. Her eyes that always twinkled with amusement and deviltry-the playful kind-now shone with fury and wariness. Her rosy lips that were usually pulled up in a smirk were now drawn into a thin line. Her gazed faltered and she grimaced in pain before going stiff and wiping any emotion out of her face again. Tyki could've sworn that for a second that she appeared frightened.

He pulled a smile on his face and he tutted. “No more running around,” she gritted her teeth but said nothing. “Let’s wrap this up then, I have better things to do.” No he didn't, but Tyki needed this to be over.

In the blink of an eye the exorcist found herself pinned down on the ground by the Noah. She bit the inside of her cheek and squeezed her eyes shut at the pain that flared up all over her back and head. She really had done it now. Thanks to her innocence she was faster than the Noah in front of her, but it would seem that she got overconfident. She slowly opened her eyes and gazed back at him.

Tyki was staring her through half lidded, golden eyes. His hands were holding hers in a tight grip, pressing them to the ground, his knees digging into her thighs, keeping her immobilized.

She knew escaping was impossible. She barely came out of the cave before it collapsed and she didn't came out unscathed either. Her legs felt heavy and moving them was out of the question. She didn't try to move, instead the exorcist watched the Noah that had finally pinned her down.

His stupidly perfect hair, wavy, and dark was worn in a ponytail, save for his bangs that were falling down his face and tickling her in the cheek. His mole under his left eye and lastly his eyes. They were gold, and kind of breathtaking if she had to admit. Her eyes then fell on his chest and saw the scars that remained unhidden thanks to that ridiculous white jacket he was wearing and she felt the strangest urge to trace them with her fingers, wondering how his skin would've felt against her fingers.

A shiver went down her spine and she released a breath she had been holding. Yes, she was scared, and...turned on. She almost laughed at herself. Tyki Mikk was about to kill her and here she was, thinking what his lips would feel like against hers, or how she just wanted to throw him on the ground and have her way with him.

The exorcist blinked, flabbergasted by her own thoughts. What the hell? She looked back up at him sharply and threw a half-ass glare at him, trying to appear intimidating and wash away the treacherous thoughts. “You cheated.”

“I never agreed to play fair,” he shrugged and grinned wickedly down at her. “I think,” he begun and trailed his eyes down her legs, “I should start by breaking your legs.” His tone chilled her to the bone. It was dark and malicious, promising nothing but pain for the trouble she put him through.

“Wouldn't want you to run away again, huh?” Tyki crossed her hands over and held them down by with a hand, while the other trailed down from her wrist to her lips, tracing her jaw and going further down, reaching her hips and finally her knee, touching the bare and bloody skin. The pants she was wearing were ripped, courtesy of the fallen debris from the cave and cuts decorated her legs. Tyki’s hand with the open wound on her knee made her hiss at the stinging pain it caused.

“Or maybe I’ll just kill you.” Using his ‘Choose’ ability Tyki shoved his hand inside her chest, making the exorcist arch her back in shock and pain. The Noah smirked as he felt his unclothed fingers wrap around her heart, and gave a little squeeze. His sadistic side howled with satisfaction when the girl beneath withered in pain and cried out in agony. He felt logic leaving him and everything around him melted into nothingness. All that mattered was crushing his enemy’s heart. A heart that felt small in his hand, a heart that started beating faster and faster the longer he held it. A heart that if he didn’t stop applying pressure would stop.

Confused, Tyki blinked, snapping out of the trance he was in. He cursed, growing frustrated with himself for losing control like that. It was growing harder and harder to keep his darker self locked down. Normally Tyki wouldn’t mind letting the barbarous side of him loose, but ever since the Noah inside of him awakened he was being cautious. Tyki Mikk was cold-blooded, yes. But Joyd was something else entirely.

A sniffing sound brought him out of his thought and he glanced down. The sighed beneath him froze him. The girl was trembling, either from fear or blood lose he did not know, but she looked so scared. Her rosy lips were quivering, ever so slightly, and blood caked the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were wide, full of fear and now held tears, ready to spill at any moment. She was shaking almost uncontrollably now.

Tyki, for whatever strange reason, felt an overpowering sense of wrongdoing and he shifted his hand that held her heart, pulling it out of her chest with slow and unsure movements. The exorcist had stiffened when Tyki moved his hand, clearly expecting him to deliver the finishing blow and tear out her heart. However, she was very confused when he pulled his hand out and proceed to stare at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

Tyki was baffled too. He wanted to kill her, feel her blood coating his finger and watch the life leave her eyes. But...he also did not. His dark side screamed at him and for a moment his bloodthirstiness returned at full forced, but it faded into nothingness when his eyes fell to her lips. They looked soft and plump, even with blood coating them. Without thinking, Tyki let go of her wrists and traced them with his thumb, whipping it out.

“What you did just now was a major turn off, wouldn’t recommend trying it to woo someone.” Her voice was mellow and barely above a whisper. The sound made his stomach twist with yearning and he recoiled, feeling betrayed by his own thoughts and emotions. Why was he experiencing such a thing? Dis Tyki really had been having so much fun chasing her down that he didn’t want to kill her now? Did he want the game to continue? Or maybe, it was her eyes, rosy lips and wild hair. Maybe it was the way she moved and danced around. Maybe it was the sound of her joyful laughter that pierced through him.

He grabbed her face between his hands, removing her tears with his thumbs. “Perhaps you’re right,” Tyki mumbled out in agreement and without hesitation leaned down, smashing his lips to hers.

The girl went still, completely shell shocked by the turn of events. Just a moment Tyki was about to break her heart, literally, and now he was kissing her. What the hell is going on?! To say that she was confused was an understatement.

Tyki’s lips felt hot, fiery and passionate against hers. So, what? She was turned on just like that again? Christ, I need to get my shit together, but for now…She kissed him back. At first, hesitantly, not sure if she should given what they were. She felt the warmth of his hands leave her face and a second later felt them wrapping around her and crushing her against him possessively. Oh my god. She was melting in his arms. Placing her arms around his neck, she pushed herself even closer to him. His lips felt so warm and soft, even if they were kissing her viciously.

It was like her lips were drugging him, making him sleepy and dizzy. Then her fingers slide up from the back of his neck to his hair. She pulled at his hair tie with force, freeing his hair and making their lips part. They both breathed deeply and gazed at each other with wide eyes. Tyki placed his hand on her lower back, giving her some freedom but still holding her close to him, while hers grabbed a fistful of his dark hair, bringing him back down for another kiss and as soon as their mouths connected again a soft, relieved moan left her. Tyki seemed to lose it at the sound.

He reached out for her shirt and tugged it over her head. He started messing with her bra but she stopped by tugging at his hair. Growling, he moved from her mouth to her neck, biting and sucking the skin until he drew blood. Her hands left his hair and moved to his chest and practically ripped his long white shirt open, trying to take it off. Tyki in return started working on her pants. He got tired of the buttons real quick and just teared them off with brute strength. She was still working on taking off his jacket, letting out an impatient huff. Tyki chuckled lowly at her annoyance, and kissed her again, more softly then before. He would've grabbed a handful of her ass too, seeing as her pants were finally off, if it not had been for an inhuman screech. Breaking apart they both whirled around just in time to see two teenagers running off the clearing the were in, tripping and stumbling all over each other.

“Dude, holy shit bro!”

“Oh my god, they were having sex!”

The exorcist and Noah looked at one another in shock. Tyki’s shirt was bunched down around his shoulders halfway off, long dark hair flying up in every direction thanks to her grabbing and pulling. He was breathing deeply with parted lips and she could feel his chest moving up and down. She was only in her underwear, there was nothing else to say. Having the urge to laugh at their current situation the exorcist pursed her lips, trying to keep laugher in. She failed and soon enough she was leaning in Tyki’s shoulder for support, even though they were already sitting down. Finally, she calmed down. “That was so unexpected.”

“Which part?” asked Tyki, now fully taking in the condition they were in. He cleared his throat and let her go, slowly. She too seemed to understand and stood up fas, looking around for her clothes. Tyki turned away from her, shrugging on his white jacket and buttoning it, only there were no buttons. He smirked, remembering the exorcist savagely ripping his clothes open.

“All of it?” It wasn't a question, but a statement and he had to agree with her. How did they go from fighting to making out, he did not know. He turned back around and caught sight of her ass before she pulled her pants all the way up. Well, he didn't know but he certainly didn't mind either. He took her in one last time before he left.

Her wild hair was sticking out everywhere, her neck and cheeks were red and she suddenly wouldn't look at him. She was biting her lower lip but he could see the corners turned upwards. She scratched her head awkwardly, “should we…?”

“We should,” he replied and started walking away. The Earl would be displeased when he found out he hadn't killed the exorcist, but Tyki didn't care. He was having fun and he didn't want it to end.

The girl watched the Noah walk away and she started doing the same, wondering what cover story she should say the HQ. Yeah, I was definitely going to die there for a moment but then he kissed me and we ended up making out in the middle of a clearing, and we would have done more if some teenagers hadn't stumbled upon us. It’s all good though. She laughed softly and shook her head. That’ll make them happy.

#Tyki Mikk #yes hi holy shit?#my first semi-sin?#yas #tyki mikk imagine #dgm #reblog #dgm imagine #dgm imagines

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btsiguess · 7 years ago

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This Is Just To Say (m) - 6

Summary: To say it’s unusual to have a soulmate is an understatement, and most people desperately wish to have an elegant name scrawled upon their wrist. In reality though, you’d have to say it causes much more issues than it solves.

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader (Jungkook/Reader ; slight Namjoon/Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Word Count: 3879

Warnings: Smut, but never with who we all wish it would be with god DAMN it.

A/N: Here have a garbage soulmate/college au that no one asked for.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

“Jungkook,” you mumble out between kisses, “Jungkookie we have to get going or we’ll be late.”

You feel Jungkook smile against your lips but he doesn’t pull away, instead he takes the opportunity of your frustrated huff to slip his tongue into your mouth. He’s got you perched on the desk in his room, the homework that he had previously been doing there now scattered haphazardly on the floor around you.

It had been a while since you had last seen your boyfriend, at least for more than a few minutes. He had been at practice almost always for the past few days, and you had been up to your neck in midterm papers. Jungkook was definitely struggling too, with trying to balance his homework, his practice, and you -- and so while it pained you, you had started to extricate yourself from him just a bit. You wanted him to do well. If that meant not seeing you as often as you would’ve liked you were willing to deal with it.

Finally though, you were both free. The baseball team had won their series of games, and had a bit of a break as a reward. Jungkook obviously had been the star player, as usual, and you smile fondly underneath his lips as you remember the way Jungkook had pushed passed the group that had gathered around him to congratulate him after this last game in order to embrace you.

You’re caught up in the way his lips move against yours, and what started out as an innocent peck has now escalated into something much less proper.

You gasp and your boyfriend begins to kiss down the column of your neck and your hands alternate between pulling him closer and trying half-heartedly to push him away.

You had made plans to get dinner with everyone. Since Jungkook and you had become an official couple, it had been so easy to pull away from your friends and just hole up with him, but you weren’t about to be that guy. Your plans started in fifteen minutes, and the little diner you had chosen was a twenty minute walk from the dorms.

“Jungkook,” you try again, “We have to go.”

“C’mon babe,” he says, “we can be quick. Please, I need you.”

He accompanies his statement with a slight thrust of his hips, so you can feel his desire against you. Your breath hitches at the feeling, and heat floods in your core. You had been hoping to take your time with Jungkook later, to really savor the way his body felt against yours, but you knew that there was no way you could wait after this.

Jungkook doesn’t stop kissing your neck as you think it through, and with each swipe of his tongue you can feel your resolve crumbing. Your boyfriend lets his hands slide down over your waist, to push up the skirt you’re wearing before fumbling to undo his pants and he briefly stops his ministrations along your neck to look into your eyes.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you can’t help but nod. The idea of sitting through dinner while you’re aching for your boyfriend seems like useless self torture.

Jungkook pushes your underwear to the side and presses two of his fingers into you, and you gasp at the feeling of being so full. Your boyfriend’s fingers are long and skilled, and they curl deliciously in all the right places. You don’t have the time to fully appreciate it though, and soon you’re grasping his hand and tugging him forward to press your mouth against his.

“Kookie,” you gasp between kisses, “please put it in, I can’t wait anymore. And we’ve got to hurry.”

Jungkook just nods, shifting his member out of his underwear and pressing it inside you as slowly as he can managed in your rushed state. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable, since you haven’t been with him in a few weeks, but ultimately the feeling makes your head spin pleasantly.

“Fuck, babe.” Jungkook says lowly, “you’re so fucking tight. I’ve missed you so much.”

You wrap your legs around his back and pull him into you deeper. You both groan loudly at the feeling and suddenly Jungkook’s hands come down to your hips to pull you closer to the edge of the desk. He begins thrusting into you, starting slow and gaining speed rapidly, and it isn’t long before you’re writhing against him, arching your back and shifting your hips in the hopes that you might get closer to him.

Every slide and drag of his hips has your head reeling and you can’t focus on anything other than how good he feels inside of you. The desk is thumping on the wall behind you as Jungkook thrusts into you harder and harder. You can distantly hear the sound of your own moans falling from your lips, but it’s hard to control yourself with the way Jungkook is moving his hips inside you. He seems to like the noises you’re making to, and he abruptly leans forward to nip and suck at the juncture just below your ear.

The change in angle this causes had him brushing up against your G-spot and you feel your orgasm mounting.

“I can feel you clenching around me,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, “are you going to cum for me?”

You can’t think coherently enough to reply, but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind. He simply reaches his hand between you to rub and pinch at your clit, hurdling you towards your climax.

“Come on babe,” he says, “I want you to cum.”

Your vision whites out momentarily as your orgasm hits, Jungkook doesn’t stop thrusting into you as you ride out wave upon wave of pleasure, and it isn’t until you catch his wrist in your hand that his merciless onslaught against your clit stops.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, as he keeps thrusting into you, “Kookie I’m too s-sensitive.”

“I’m close babe please,” he begs, “I can’t stop. I’m going to cum.”

You nod your head and your body swims in overstimulation. Jungkook’s hands are rough on your hips as he chases his high. Your hands come up to tangle themselves in his hair, and he kisses you without slowing his movements. Suddenly he strikes that spot within you again, and in your sensitive state that alone is enough to rip your second orgasm from you. There’s no build up to the pleasure, but again your body clenches down around Jungkook.

“Fuck, fuck.” Jungkook whimpers as he follows you over the edge, filling you with his cum.

“H-holy shit.” He gasps, as he pulls out of you, resting his head on your shoulder while he catches his breath. “That was amazing, babe. You’re amazing.”

You nod as you try to bring your legs down. Jungkook stumbles to the bathroom cleaning himself off before helping you as best he can.

You stand shakily, and Kookie puts his arm around your waist to steady you. You glance down at your watch and groan. You were so late.

You flatten down Jungkook’s hair one last time before entering the diner, trying to make it look at least slightly presentable.

“Jungkook do I look okay?” You ask nervously, adjusting your shirt for the thousandth time. He catches your hands in his, bringing them to his lips to kiss them.

“You look fine, babe. Don’t worry. They might make fun of us but at least we’ll be in it together.”

“Yeah but--”

“Come on, it’s just our friends. Let’s just go in. We’re late enough already.”

You mumble quietly under your breath about how the reason that your late is because of Jungkook, but he just smiles at you. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you inside the diner. It’s not hard to locate your friends in the restaurant’s small interior, and as you approach the table, the group cheers loudly, clapping at the fact that you are finally here.

“Sorry we’re late.” You apologize as you take a seat next to Namjoon.

“No worries,” Namjoon shoots back, “I just hope the sex was worth it.”

“With Jungkook?” Taehyung interjects, “she probably didn’t even --”

“Hey! Woah!” You say, “S-shut the fuck up, Tae.” You could feel your cheeks heating up and you glanced at Jungkook. His face was red as well, and you let your head fall into your hands as Jimin and Hoseok both congratulated your boyfriend on getting lucky.

Eventually, the din dies down and you steal a glance from out behind your hands. Your eyes immediately lock with Suga, his heady gaze sending a shiver up your spine and you straighten up quickly. There’s something utterly unreadable in the dark orbs meeting your own; some underlying emotion to deep and complex for you to comprehend.

The boys around you are chatting—still about your sex life—but you can’t hear them. You’re too busy drowning in Suga’s eyes. He doesn’t seem eager to break the contact either, his mouth quirking up at you in a small smile. He nods slightly at you, as if to get your attention, and then his eyes shift. You feel suddenly empty from the absence of his gaze but then you’re torn from your internal musings by Taehyung’s riotous voice.

“See Kookie! She’s not answering!”

“B-babe!” Jungkook cries a little hurt, and you glance at him.

“What? What’s going on?” You ask, quickly placing a hand on your boyfriend’s shoulder to comfort him.

“They were asking,” Suga says, “if Jungkook had made you cum.” The words sound so sinful coming from the older boys lips, and you suddenly feel heat pool in your core. The way Suga had asked sounded like a challenge, and you felt wholly out of your depth.

“Your silence seems to be an answer in and of itself.” The boy continued, before arching an eyebrow.

“That’s not true!” You say quickly. “He, he did make me… you know.”

“Cum?” Suga asks and you feel Jungkook tense next to you as he watches your interaction with the other boy. You hope that the blush on your face is mistaken for embarrassment instead of the odd arousal you’re feeling and the raucous teasing from the other boys lets you know that they’ve not caught on to the faint heat flickering in your belly.

“Y-yes.” You stutter out, “Actually I finished twice.”

The table erupts into hoots and hollers and Jungkook hides his face in your shoulder.

“Babe,” he mutters, “this is so embarrassing!”

“Why Kookie? I’m just telling them how good you are in bed.” You tease, despite the way embarrassment rolls in your stomach as well, welcoming the feeling if it means shedding the confusion caused by Suga.

“But still it’s embarrassing…” Jungkook mutters.

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice about making us late then!”

“Can we please change the subject?” He asks and you lean your head onto his shoulder, laughing. You feel his shoulder shake a little too, and so you know all is forgiven.

“Let’s talk about how we could be in philosophy club right now, listening to Zach talk out of his ass for like two fuckin’ hours.” You say, and Namjoon nods.

“Yeah, but I miss the arguing…” Joonie says. “Arguing with you is no fun. You always win.”

You beam at him for a moment, before you hear Suga’s slight scoff.

“Speak for yourself, Namjoon. Seems to me last time Y/N and I went toe to toe, I came out on top.”

You simply stick your tongue out at him, not wanting to cause a scene and to your surprise Suga returns the gesture, smiling widely at you.

Your heart flutters at the somewhat unnatural display of softness, and you can feel your cheeks heat a bit. It seems that when you’re around Suga you’re always blushing.

“Namjoonie,” you say, “let’s argue. For old times sake.”

Namjoon nods and thinks for a moment.

“Mmm, I got one. Do you think morality is based on ultimate moral truths or do you think it comes from a selfish place?” He asks you.

“Oh, it comes from a selfish place, man. Absolutely.”

“Aish. I agree. How about… Oh, I have one for your cynical ass: do you think people are inherently good or do you think people are inherently bad?”

You don’t need much time to think before you reply, “Inherently bad.”

“Now we’re talking.” Namjoon says, slamming his hand down on the table. “I think they’re inherently good.”

Taehyung, too, hits his hands on the table, creating a drumroll.

“Step right up!” He cries, in a fake smarmy old time circus ringleader voice “Watch the biggest event of the year, nae, the century! The greatest debate perhaps of all time!”

“Who will win?” Jungkook chimes in, in an equally as obnoxious tone, “Will it be Namjoon? Will it be the lovely Y/N?”

“It’ll be Y/N!” Tae interrupts before the two boys start a quick exchange, each playing off the other in a clean cut way that makes you think they’re well practiced at dual mockery.

“Place your bets now!”

“Choose your sides!”

“You can only get it here, folks!”

“The battle is about to begin!”

The table is quiet for just a moment until you let out an unbecoming snort. The rest of the table joins in, until you’re being shushed by the other patrons of the small diner. Suga quickly flips the party poopers off, and you giggle quietly at the way they shrink back from his cool glare.

Taehyung hops a little in his seat. “Who wants to give their opening statement first?”

“Wait!” Jungkook interrupts again. “Who agrees with who?”

“I agree with Namjoon!” Jimin pipes up, and the rest of the boys at the table nod their heads in agreement. Including Jungkook. Including Suga.

“Are you kidding me?” You cry at the seven boys in front of you, who merely shrug their shoulders helplessly.

“This is just like that one time in tenth grade when Miranda Arluah forced me to go to Bible study in order for her help on an essay I was writing, and then just made me sit there while all of the kids tried to get me to believe in God for two hours. Fuck you guys.”

The boys all chuckle, apart from Jungkook who gazes at you desperately.

“I’m sorry, babe! I can be on your side if you want!”

You laugh too, placing a small kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek. “Nah, Kookie. That’s okay. I like a good challenge.” He smiles down at you and gives you a small nod.

“So, Y/N,” Tae says, “since you’re the underdog in this game you can decide who has to talk first. You or Namjoon.”

“Joonie.” You say immediately. You hate going first.

Namjoon wastes no time, cracking his neck dramatically before beginning.

“I think people, generally speaking, are inherently good. If they weren’t, then really what would stop us from just doing whatever we wanted? We as a society have begun to hold ourselves accountable for our transgressions, and that isn’t based in self interest. It’s based in the desire to be better. Morality may be selfish, but it can still be good. Sure, there are some evil people in the world. There are people who do horrible things, but ultimately, we as a society can collectively recognize that some things are bad and some things are good. Because we can differentiate between the two, and have decided on the whole to pursue being good, I’d say that means our goodness is inherent. And that it’s also altruistic.”

As Namjoon comes to a close the whole table claps, keeping up the pretenses of an incredibly intense debate. You snicker at the boys antics before steeling yourself for a moment, preparing your argument in your head.

This was always a thrill for you--right before a debate. You knew there was no way that you’d change Namjoon’s opinions around, you were fighting to persuade the other boys. If you could just change one of their minds, you would be the winner. At least in your mind.

“Y/N, you’re up.” Tae says.

“Okay. I first want to dispel the idea that everyone being inherently bad is a negative thing. Having our tendencies lean towards the ‘bad’ doesn’t make us bad people. We are made, as human beings, to feel selfish. That’s what allows you to survive. Without that selfish instinct, we would all fail. You can talk all you want about how without being inherently good we would basically just act like vicious animals, but I don’t think that’s true. Even when we are acting in accordance with societal rules we’re doing so out of selfishness. And even beyond that I think that viewing the world from my perspective is the more positive outlook! If you think that everyone is inherently bad, then when people do good things it’s much more profound and significant since it means they actually had to consciously make the decision to be good. If people are inherently good, then we have to choose to be bad. And I think that’s so much worse.”

Namjoon goes to open his mouth again, but the waitress comes up. She places the check down on the table in a huff, even though your group hadn’t requested it. You all laugh at the passive aggressive action, making sure to tip extra for the poor woman’s struggle. Then you all clean yourselves up and begin to see yourselves out, promising that the rest of the debate can wait until another day.

As you walk out of the diner, Jungkook is pulled away from you by Namjoon. The older boy wraps an arm around your boyfriend, muttering something about needing to speak with him before he’s whisked away. Before you can truly find yourself alone, though, Suga is beside you. You two are trailing behind the others slightly, walking slowly so that Namjoon and Jungkook will be able to catch up with you once they’re finished. With no other eyes on the two of you, Suga lets a small smile grace his lips as he looks down at you. You reciprocate eagerly, enjoying the slight tingle you feel at being the one to make Suga act so differently.

“I liked what you said in there, you know.” Suga tells you and you glance up at him.

“What? In the debate?”

“Yes. I don’t think you quite changed my mind, but it’s sort of beautiful… the way you see things.”

By now you have both simply stopped walking, preferring to wait for your other companions while having a direct conversation. You bring your hands up to your face gently, hoping that your hands might be cold enough to cool the heat Suga’s words bring to your cheeks. Suga reaches out gently and takes one of your hands in his, pulling it away from your face. He quickly replaces your hand with his own, his cold fingers cooling the skin much more rapidly than yours ever could. His hand lingers on the side of your face for just a moment before pulling away, and you swear that his touch must have burned you because you’re face is on fire.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “Your face is really red, you know.”

That didn’t help.

“You’re not supposed to say it, Suga. You’re supposed to pretend you don’t notice!” You scold playfully, though his words do make your stomach tumble with embarrassment.

“Why not? You look pretty when you blush. I think I should point it out.”

Your heart somersaults in your chest and you desperately wish you could be anywhere but here. Anywhere but with this tantalizing boy in front of you, while you wait for your actual boyfriend to come bounding out from somewhere to put his arms around you.

You feel guilty as you smile up at Suga. You can tell you two are standing much too close than is strictly necessary, but you don’t pull back and you don’t drop his stare.

At least not until you hear the muffled sounds of Namjoon and Jungkook coming towards you.

You and Yoongi both take a step backwards each looking up to await the return of your friends. Jungkook approaches you with a strained smile, eyeing the older boy standing next to you wearily. Suga’s eyes don’t leave the ground, and he scuffs his foot against the pavement a few times. Namjoon too, is oddly quiet and you wonder briefly if you’ve missed something.

“Uh, guys. You all good? Got something you want to tell me?” You ask, laughing nervously. “Is this an intervention? I swear I only did coke once and it was on a dare.”

The boys remain silent.

“That was a joke I’ve never done coke, I’m sorry for making a joke about drug addiction it’s a really devastating illness.”

Jungkook simply wraps his arm around you, before pulling you away from the other two men. His arm is tight around your waist, but you manage to spare one last look behind you. Your eyes meet Suga’s and there’s harsh emotions resting there. He looks almost upset. Almost angry. Almost jealous. But you quickly shove that thought out of your head, letting Jungkook drag you away without complaint.

It’s only when the two of you arrive back to his dorm that he allows you to extricate yourself from him. You turn to gaze at him, taking in his distraught face before you ask, “Kookie, what’s the matter? Have I done something wrong?”

Jungkook sits down on his bed, pulling you so you’re standing between his parted knees.

“No, babe, no. Namjoon… Namjoon just really pissed me off.”

“What happened? Please tell me?”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, biting down on his lip.

“He just pointed out the way Suga looks at you. The way he acts when you’re around is different… Namjoon says he has a thing for you.”

You feel your stomach drop at your boyfriend’s words. You don’t allow yourself to feel anything other than panic at Jungkook’s statement, knowing that if you analyzed your feelings too deeply you would be the one in trouble.

“It doesn’t matter Jungkook.” You tell him, and he wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly.

“It does matter. I don’t like the way he looks at you. It’s like he feels you belong to him.” Jungkook practically growls out the words, and you’re momentarily surprised at his display of jealousy. You rake your fingers through his hair gently, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. He relaxes slightly under your soothing gestures.

“Jungkook, it doesn’t matter if Suga likes me. It doesn’t matter if he thinks he’s got some weird hold on me. Because he doesn’t. I’m yours, Jungkook. Just yours.”

While there’s meaning behind your words, and feelings, you know that you’re not being completely honest with the boy burrowed into your abdomen. You know that Suga’s attention affects you, even if you’re not quite sure what that means. But you also know you care desperately for your boyfriend, and wouldn’t let anything jeopardize that.

You feel bad about lying, you do. But what can you say? Aren’t humans inherently bad anyway?

A/N: Hey long time no see. Yeah nerds I finally updated my fic and now my eyes feel like they’re going to bleed because I’ve been writing ALL damn day. Not just fic. School too. Fricken SChool. FricKEN MidterMs HElp me.

Y’all know my favorite girl @gimmesumsuga was my editorrrrrrrrrr.

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pushpressure · 7 years ago

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Flower Shop of Letters

Summary: Sasuke comes back to Konoha after the war to visit his mother’s grave, but first makes his way to a flower shop first to get his mother a gift.

Pairing: A bit Sasuino

June 1, it was his mother's birthday. Sasuke felt dread remembering that as he recollected the loving memories of his mother being supportive and helpful towards him, even when he acted ungrateful. He regretted that. If only he had just accepted her suggestion to train with her, he would've had more quality memories of her.

Now here he was. The ungrateful son who killed his brother and his mother's first child. He apologized many times in his head and to her gravestone before he left Konoha, and now, it was time he did that again as he headed back to Konoha to meet with her again. But he didn't want to go empty-handed. It was her birthday, so he needed to bring gifts. It was the least he could do to ease this feeling of shame.

He considered what to get her, and the easiest option for a grave was to buy incense and flowers. It wasn't difficult to get the incense, but as for the flowers, he didn't have a clue as to which type to get her. He didn't want to get the traditional funeral flowers since he already gives her that for the day her and his father died. However he didn't know his mother well enough to know what kind of flowers to get for her. Before he knew it he was at Konoha without informing anyone. Not even Naruto of his arrival.

He simply wanted to go to his mother and leave. Yet his attention was grabbed by the beautiful flowers displayed before the Yamanaka shop. The place was currently empty of any customers since it was a cloudy day that threatened to rain. Ino Yamanaka was the only person present and tending to the plants. He felt irked feelings to enter. He didn't remember Ino well, but she was definitely an annoying, loud character who he didn't want to spend too much time with at all. He considered leaving, but he needed the flowers for his mother, and his own discomfort shouldn't stop him.

He reluctantly entered, and Ino turned around, starting to greet him like a customer, "Welco-SA-" Her mouth was covered by him. He whispered, "Sorry. I don't want anyone knowing I'm here. I'm just here on important personal business, so could you just keep this between us."

Ino nodded, which allowed her mouth to be free. She used her inside voice, "But it's great to see you again! I'm relieved that Tsunade-sama and Kakashi-sensei could help you with your criminal charges, and that you're still doing great. Did you come here to buy flowers for Sakura?"

"No. I came to buy flowers from you for my mother." he decided to be honest so he could get the best flowers. "Today is her birthday, and I wanted to give her grave something nontraditional. More personal."

Ino was silent by the response. Sasuke saw the light of her eyes wane into a soft glow of empathy. She nodded. Her voice softening pleasantly, "Mm. Personal. Got you." The light in her eyes lit a bit brighter like stars, that slightly intrigued the Uchiha who expected the woman to keep up the preppy routine. Ino walked over to one of the potted plants and picked the one with a single white orchid. "It's pretty expensive, but I can't think of any flower better to give to your mother."

Sasuke noticed her familiar tone, "Why would you say that?"

Ino explained as they went to the registers to do the transaction. "I met your mom as a kid when she would come here to buy flowers for her tea. The first time I saw her, she was like an orchid to me: beautiful, elegant, graceful and someone worthy of respect." Sasuke frowned at the orchid as he handed the money. Ino noticed his expression, and gave a small smile, respectful to his mourning. She carefully prepared the single flower and handed it over to him.

Sasuke stared at the orchid a bit longer, feeling a sense of disconnection and loss. His mother was amazing, and he never recognized that while Ino, a complete stranger, could see that. He felt unworthy to give this gift to his mother. He was a disappointment through and through and it would be best to stop making her cry even after death. It was best to be left forgotten.

"Sasuke," Ino called out to him gently. "Is the flower not the right choice after all?"

"No." Sasuke answered. "It's perfect."

Ino didn't believe him for a second, "That doesn't sound like a satisfied customer, and I'm not one to let anyone walk out unsatisfied. Maybe one flower isn't enough after all. There's a ton here that would make a wonder bouquet with the orchid as its main focus."

"No-"

"Too late! I already decided! It is your mother's birthday, and she's waiting for her son to give her the best gift she could ever receive! C'mon! I'll help you!" She stepped away from the register and began telling Sasuke about all the different flowers and their meanings. Sasuke knew that he could just leave. Ino was a skilled ninja but wasn't capable of stopping him. But this also acted as a good time waster. He wasn't prepared to face his mother on her special day, even if she couldn't scold him for being late.

As Ino was listing off flowers, Sasuke did take note of flowers that did jog memories of his mother. Such as the patient modesty of the azalea, respect of the daffodils and pride of a hydrangea, the natural feel of a magnolia, and bravery of peonies. Sasuke found his awkwardness fade away as loving memories of his mother poured into his mind and took on the form of honest words leaving his mouth. He spoke of the way she cared for him when he was sick, scolded and taught him properly when he was naughty, and the utter support and equal footing she had with him even as a child.

Ino carefully sewn these memories together as she crafted the bouquet perfectly for his mother. For some reason, the bouquet gave him strength to face her. But then his sins still dug at him. Ino didn't know exactly what dug at him, and knew better from experience than to pry. Instead she gave him a not so subtle encouragement. "Ah, I forgot one more flower. Of course you can't go without these." She picked out a few hyacinths to add to it. "These flowers symbolize forgiveness. Something that you're in drastic need of since you've been a very naughty boy!" She then handed to him with a bright smile. "I always seem to run out of hyacinths since too many sons these days leave their mother worried with their long journeys. Flowers are a good way to soothe them, but I bet they're more happy to just see their kids."

Sasuke got the hint, and sighed out. He knew that killing Itachi was something pushed on him by the man himself. At the time before he knew the truth, he felt that he accomplished justice finally for his clan, for his parents. And all the bad things he did after that was for Itachi's sake. He may have done a lot of things the wrong way, but he was trying to be a good Uchiha, a good son, and then a good brother. His mother may be upset with him, but she deserved, even in death, a proper birthday gift: Her son coming home just to see her.

"Thank you, Ino."

The young woman nodded. "It was nice seeing you again, Sasuke. Tell your mom that the little flower girl said hi." Sasuke didn't notice the way Ino's strength and confidence wavered as she forced herself to smile. He recognized the pain hidden beneath the fire that burned brightly above it. He felt that he should say something, but he had other plans.

Perhaps...another time.

#sasuino #Ino Yamanaka #fanfic

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awkwardly-failing-life-blog · 7 years ago

Text

The First Time She Heard - Ethan’s POV

Trigger Warning: NSFW, some triggering concepts, mentions of death, suicide, blood, and self harm. Prologue

Five in the morning. Shots fired. We stand our ground as we prepare to invade and attack the enemy. I wanted nothing more than to go home to my wife and two sons. They were home, alone, breaking to pieces and I without them. I vaguely remember the scent of Darlene as she leaned in to press our lips in a tender kiss, my eyes swelling with tears of pain. I never wanted to leave but it was my duty. I had to serve my people.

What we were doing was wrong. I was absolutely disgusted with how long we had waited to fight this war, to protect people of another race. It was morally corrupt and it pained me, quite literally, to see my people, my fellow humans being discarded and paraded like that of a tamed horse or a circus animal, and even there, this was not okay. We are all a part of creation so I could not quite comprehend why some of us had it in our minds that we were not equal. It was quite...irritating.

I remember the way it felt to hold my sons in my arms. It was a painful reminder, something that broke me down each time I thought of leaving and now, each time I think of the boys that I once held the thought of the blood enters my mind. It was not the last time I would see them but it would be the last time they saw me. And this doesn’t mean I died and watched over them, no, it was much, much more painful.

I was able to come home for one night. We were marching through my hometown and immediately, I was ready to go home. I visited the house, and the first thing I could recognize was the pungent smell of metallic blood. I was completely and utterly confused as to why my wife and sons would have such a bitter scent wafting from the house so I walked inside and I broke down to my knees.

There she was, holding my boys, blood matting her hair to her head as she soothed our sons who...who had already passed. The twins limbs were broken and someone had gripped them so hard that they had bruises. She was bleeding out from her chest, a bullet wound in her collarbone. I brought her to my chest as I began to speak.

I’ll never forget this conversation for as long as I will ever exist.

“Darlene!” I shouted, my voice muffled as I bit back sobs. My eyes filled with tears and I tried my damndest to withhold from crying. She needed me right now. I began praying to a god, if there was one, begging him to spare my wife. He had already taken my boys, my beautiful children whom my wife and I had crafted from love. “Oh, god..” I mumbled. “Darlene, we need to get you medical assistance.” I tried to convince her, to take her away from my boys but she wouldn’t relent.

“No!” she screamed. “They’re my boys. I’m gonna stay with my boys!” she didn’t want to live without them but I couldn’t live without her. I knew I would eventually be okay without my boys. It’d leave emotional damage but I couldn’t function without Darlene, my loving wife.

“Darlene, I can’t live without you..please,” I begged. “Don’t be so selfish as to not grant me a life with my wife despite the sins that others have committed against us.”

Her eyes went furious, but still she didn’t look at me. “Are you serious, Ethan? These are my boys! It is not selfish of me to want to spend my last moments with them.” she growled.

“I don’t want to argue with you, Darlene. Those are my boys, too! I lost my boys too and damn it all to hell if I lose you, too!” I cried. “Darlene,” I whispered. Her bloodshot eyes finally looked up at me again, her eyes wide with a blank stare, tears in her eyes. “Please..I can’t lose you, too,” I pleaded. She didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like she was looking at me, like she was looking through me. I hugged her to my chest. I was losing her. Her eyes began to go into a daze, as if she were tired and sleep was calling her. “Darlene, no!” I begged. “Please stay with me, please..I can’t lose you!” I cried as she finally fell limp in my arms.

Later that night, I arranged a proper funeral for all of my family. Friends showed genuine concern, telling me it gets better and that Darlene would’ve wanted me to be happy. They pat me on the back but I know that it gets no better. It will never get better. I could feel myself sink into a silent depression.

I didn’t say anything for at least a week. Not even a small ‘yes’ or ‘no’ was spoken. I knew that if I spoke, if I talked about it, then it would be real. And I couldn’t handle reality. It was all too much to bare. I was silently breaking into pieces, my mind conveying suicide as the only way I could ever be happy again.

I remember writing one night.

I had gotten so angry. Angry at myself. My last conversation with her was beyond inappropriate. I called her selfish..I was the selfish one. She wanted to spend her dying moments with our sons. She would have died during an attempt to get assistance and I called her selfish. Her dying wish was to die happy and I couldn’t supply her of her need, of her last wish.

I was so furious. I took a fist to the wall several times and I vaguely remember blood bubbling up to the surface of where my skin had broken, where I had punched the wall. I believe I had taken a knife to my skin.

I sat at my desk, aching bones and quivering hands, shaking lips as I bit down on the bloody mess of them, my eyes bloodshot from days of endless tears and remorse and regret and grief. I took a knife from my satchel, slicing my skin in an attempt to punish myself for my foolish actions. I wrote in my book, a diary that later had been publicized in the modern eras of our country. It was a peculiar thought to think that I survived death. I saw everything after it and to be quite honest it was worse than living. I wrote a letter to my dearest Darlene that night, a letter that had blood and tears scattered upon the jagged papers that some people seem to find aesthetically pleasing.

The letter was filled with pure emotion. My tears filled the page as I wrote, and I found myself having to rewrite some of the words as the ink would fade. It was painful to write, knowing that this would likely be the last thing I ever did.

Dear Darlene:

I am truly and deeply wounded by our struggle to unite together during your last moments. I just wish I could have said what I needed to say out of love and not what I wanted to say out of anger. It was I who was selfish, not allowing you the dying wish of being with our boys and I peacefully.

I will always and forever regret my decision.

I should have never left you alone.

You did not deserve to die in such a terrible manner.

I don’t know what happened. I remember we were marching through town and I had been allowed to see you and instead of a warm kiss on the cheek, a hug from you and the boys and a nice meal to be prepared, the food had been rotted, a desperate attempt to hold onto your lifeless bodies and warm blood smearing the side of my face as a replacement of a tender kiss, and I know what this represented: the kiss of death.

My boys were in terrible shape.

I still can’t imagine there being a god. How could he so cruel as to take away my life support? You were my family, my oxygen and now I am struggling to breathe with what little air I have left. The boys eyes were bruised, their wrists as well and they had bloody lips and noses. Oh, I wish I could have been there to help you.

I wish I could have defended you from whomever tried to hurt you.

I have failed you as a father and as a husband. I know that you would have wanted me to live on peacefully, not to be bitter about your deaths but I know alast that it is my time as well.

I sit here with my knife and my musket.

I am not sure which to use to end my life.

A cruel, capricious god has given me these weapons and for the first time in what feels like centuries but has been merely days, I feel a sense of relief.

I will see you again.

I will get to hold you in my arms, eat delicious homemade pie and a refreshing glass of lemonade. I will get to kiss my boys on the cheeks and you on the lips.

Darlene, I hope that when we meet again, you will be able to forgive me for what I am about to do and what I have done

Sincerely yours,

Ethan.

I finished writing the letter. I sat inside my home, cleaning everything. The blood, the rotted food. Everything was spotless. I stayed from dusk ‘til dawn and dawn ‘til dusk cleaning. I went into Darlene and I’s bedroom, making the bed neatly, putting the letter into crisp folds on the bed. I went to wash up, then going to the kitchen to prepare for myself a meal.

I ate.

Once I had finished eating, I went outside and I hung myself.

And it was there, that I finally died only to wake up moments later to see myself swinging by my neck from a rope.

#paranormal romance #supernatural #paranormal #romance #civil war #death

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