#i'm trying to stay away from the hair straightener to try and heal my hair from years of heat damage

[moodyvamp]

people with confusing hair texture like me how do I avoid frizz without straightening my hair

[i-cant-sing]

TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2

Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

I fucked up.

You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.

I fucked up so baaaaaad.

Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.

You tried to view your options here.

I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?

I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?

No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.

You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.

A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."

Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.

You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.

"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."

"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.

"I said, no." You said sternly.

"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"

"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.

-

You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-

Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."

Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.

"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"

"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.

Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.

"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."

Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.

"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.

He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."

You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."

"You never- never asked me to marry you."

"Huh? But I did today-"

"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.

Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?

He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"

"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.

"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"

"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.

Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.

"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."

Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.

Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.

"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!

"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"

"I believe you."

What? Just like that.

"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"

"Why? We still have to get married."

You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"

Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."

You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"

"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.

"The church wont allow it-"

"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.

"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"

Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?

"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.

"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.

He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."

You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.

"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.

"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.

Does he not listen?

"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.

And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."

You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.

You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.

"You can still go and eat dinner alone."

With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."

You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"

Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."

His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"

-

The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.

The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.

Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.

Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.

You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-

Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?

After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.

"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.

"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?

"No. I dont want to wear them."

The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.

"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.

"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."

Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.

"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."

"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.

The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"

A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.

"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.

"What kitchen incident?"

"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."

Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.

You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."

The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.

"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.

The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.

Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.

-

As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.

"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.

"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."

She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."

Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.

"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"

"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.

"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.

"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"

For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.

"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.

Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"

Wait.

"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.

You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!

You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.

"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.

A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"

"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"

"They- they're burning it-"

"WHERE?!"

"The gardens!"

You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.

There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.

"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.

"Princess-" they began bowing.

"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.

"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.

The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.

But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.

No. No. No. No. No. NO!

You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.

Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.

The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.

Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.

"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.

"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.

"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.

-

Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.

A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.

It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.

"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"

You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.

You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."

"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"

"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.

"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"

"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.

"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"

"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.

"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."

You looked at him in confusion.

"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."

Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.

What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.

Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?

Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?

Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."

"As you wish... Baldwin."

-

Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?

Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.

Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!

Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.

"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."

Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"

You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"

He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.

Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.

He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.

He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."

"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.

His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."

"Blandishment?"

"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.

You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"

"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.

You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.

"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"

Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"

He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."

"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."

You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.

But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"

Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.

Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.

Finally, he smiled.

"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."

Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)

Part 3 is here.

[seratopia]

miguel o'hara x reader (fluff) - needles

modern au!

→ she/her pronouns!

miguel needs to hold your hand while getting a flu shot anti-vaxxers beware! this cup of tea isn't yours to drink

It has come to your attention that Miguel doesn't regularly go to the doctor.

Are you surprised? No. Your husband is unfortunately infamous for have zero sense of self care, staying in his office for literal days at a time, eating the bare minimum on some occasions, etc.

Although you aren't his mom in any way, you wouldn't be a good wifey if you didn't at least care for him. You try your best to remind him to take breaks, bringing him a hefty platter of food from the cafeteria whenever you're off.

Miguel always appreciates it, though your presence seems to be more healing than the gestures themselves. You always find him greeting you with a big hand rubbing circles into your back, or a quick kiss to the forehead.

It wasn't until Miguel told you he hasn't been to the doctor in about four years that you decided to take full action. After bribing him with kisses and date night at your place, Miguel reluctantly agreed for you to take him to the doctor.

Miguel seemed a little tense in the office, you think the scent of rubbing alcohol was unusual to him. The two of you joked around here and there while waiting, though most of it was just you teasing him for his lack of doctor's visits.

The actual checkup was short-lived; as you suspected, Miguel was mostly healthy (physically). He keeps on muscle, does cardio almost everyday, and you make sure to keep vegetables and proteins on his plates.

"Sir, have you gotten this year's flu shot?"

The question makes your husband freeze in place, and you think he tenses up more than necessary.

"No."

You peer at him questionably, noticing his frozen state.

"Well, would you like to now? We have the shots available, all you need is to sign paperwork."

Words seems to want to spill out of Miguel's mouth, but he seems too flabbergasted to speak. Quickly, you place your hand on his arm, smoothing it down.

"Can we discuss this together in private? We'll have an answer when you come back." You say, and the doctor nods, grabbing their stack of papers and stepping out of the small room.

As soon as the door shuts, you turn to Miguel, who stares shyly off to the side. There's the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks, which you fight the urge to chuckle at.

"What's wrong, Mig?" You ask, taking his hand.

Miguel scratches the back of his neck, running an awkward hair through his chestnut hair. You spot him lick his lips a few times.

"Amor, I'm embarrassed to say..."

You raise an eyebrow, and Miguel sighs, peering to the ground.

"I'm scared of needles."

You can't help but let out the biggest sigh of relief, thankful that your husband wasn't against vaccines or anything like that. (why not talk about these things before getting married, hm?)

You pat his arm, taking his bigger hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckle.

"It's okay, Mig. How long has it been since your last shot?"

"You'll be mad at me if I tell you." He mumbles, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

"Tell me."

After a moment of silence, Miguel spills. "Six years."

Your eyes immediately widen, your mouth gaping open. A gasp sputters out of you, and Miguel almost seems to curl more into his comically tinier seat.

"Honey- now you have to get those shots!" You whine.

"No lovie, please. I hate it..." Miguel groans, lightly shaking your hands for emphasis. "It scares me..." He seems to turn away like a pouty child, averting your gaze.

You sigh, leaning against your chair for some sort of divine plan with your lips pursed.

"We can do it together, y'know? I haven't gotten mine yet." You offer.

When your husband hears 'together' he whirls around in his seat, his chocolate eyes brightening only the slightest bit. You almost want to giggle at the sight of his excitement, seeing his back straighten.

"You can hold my hand, hug me, do whatever you'd like." You offer teasingly, just to sweeten the deal up. The things you do for your husbands health.

The clock on the wall seems to tick as you watch Miggy in his seat, thinking for a moment about the makeshift deal. His foot is tapping, but he still seems meek. You glimmer your best 'please get your vaccinations baby' face one, fluttering your eyelashes half-jokingly.

Reluctantly, Miguel says yes, but you think it's because you flirted with him a bit.

The doctor arrives 5 minutes later with paperwork to fill just in case, which you willingly fill out. Miguel, on the other hand; you can see his obvious unease in the way his back stiffens.

You try to comfort him with a few pats to his thigh. It's very rare to see Miguel like this, you feel like usually it's you who's nervous, which Miguel is the one who goes out of his way to comfort you. Today, you can feel what it's like to be in Miguel's shoes, and be able to return the favor in the slightest.

The needles are brought in on top of a crystalline plastic tray, along with alcohol wipes, band-aids, and cotton balls. The sight of the vaccines sends Miguel racing for you touch, gripping your hand as tight as a woman in labor.

As the nurse prepares for your turn, you roll your sleeve up, trying to appear as much of a role model as you can for your husband. Miguel can't help himself from sliding his hand onto your back; an instinct he can't restrain. (a reference to my earlier works hehehe)

With your relaxed arms, the shot is over as soon as it started. You were lucky to have a good nurse, they went through the procedure insanely quickly. It was funny for you to watch Miguel tense up for you, his hand jolting on your back.

"All done!" The nurse happily exclaims, already on the move for Miguel's turn. He frantically reaches for your hand, subconsciously pulling you into him. You giggle a little as Miguel hesitantly rolls up his polo shirt sleeve, all the while he pins himself to your side.

Miguel turns to you, whispering in your ear to lighten the mood of his obvious anxiety.

"I'm kinda scared, lovie." He mutters, squeezing your hand once.

You nod. "I know, Mickey. But, it'll be over really quickly."

"Are you sure? I have two."

You smooth your hand down the veins of his arm. "Yes, at the most, it'll be a little pinch. I think you've felt worse pain anyway."

He sighs. "Yeah, like the guy we had to kick out of the office."

You chuckle into your hand, squeezing his hand tighter.

"Pfft, I know. He was so mean."

For a split second, Miguel eyes the nurse, flickering his gaze back to you. He leans into your ear, making it clear that he has something to say privately.

"Does prep take this long?"

You can't keep yourself from smiling. "They're already done!"

Your husband's mouth runs agape, and his head swerves back to his shoulder, complete with two circular band-aids. The nurse is just there, peeling off their gloves onto the tray.

"I didn't even feel it." He says, half-shocked.

You both give your thanks to the nurse, who gives you the full clear to leave. You cheer, standing up to give yourself a quick stretch.

"You're supposed to rub it, y'know?" You say, Miguel opening the door for the both of you. His hand lingers on your nape, guiding you through the hallways of the doctor's office.

"Whad'you mean by rub?"

You start kneading your shoulder where the shot was, rubbing it in circles.

"You gotta rub it so it spreads the medicine around."

Your husband nods, placing his hand on your shoulder behind you. He starts gingerly rubbing your band-aid clad arm, rubbing it too gently in circles like he would your back. You aren't surprised when he presses a kiss to the top of your head, resting his chin up top your head as you walk to the car.

"Not me! You!" You exclaim, Miguel retracting away his hands with a frown.

© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.

[call-me-a-simp]

Heal My Wounds

Not Your Fault (part 19)

Rhea Ripley x Reader / Damian Priest x Reader

Tw: physical and sexual abuse, toxic relationship, selfharm, eating disorder

Summary: You are in a toxic relationship with an abusive man but manage to run away. A tall, black haired woman picks you up from the streets just in time so your ex doesn't get you. But who is she and why does she seem so familiar to you? As you get to know each other you start to notice weird feelings you never had before whenever she's around.

You're sitting in the back of the car between Damian and Rhea. Finn is driving and Dom is scrolling through his phone looking for music.

The two next to you both have a hand on either of your thighs, you kind of enjoy that they're all so protective of you but something is off.

Why is Damian acting so strange lately? We've seen each other quite often due to matches or just hanging out with the gang... Is there a chance he might have feeling for me? Nah, he can't, he knows I'm with Demi.

You're in your thoughts again as Finn decides to break the silence. "Hey y/n, Rhea, the night is still pretty young we could watch some movies or so at your's"

"Ye sounds good.." Rhea looks out of the window and doesn't seem like she even listened.

"Rhea?" you carefully ask. She hums but doesn't look at you. "What is it?" you whisper and lean a little forward in hopes to catch a look at her.

She shakes her head and huffs, "nothing" she breathes out. You decide to not bother her anymore are she clearly didn't want to talk about it now.

"Guys I think we should meet another time. I could really use some alone time after what happened" you say and Finn nods. Damian's grip on your thigh tightens just a little, but enough for you to notice.

Why does he do that? What's his problem with leaving me alone? I'm safe with Rhea, he should know that.

You put your hand over his and look him in the eyes. "It's okay Damian, I'm safe now" you calm him down with a reassuring smile. He slightly smiles back and nods.

"I know, It's just that, if anything happens I'm gonna blame myself for not protecting you good enough"

He really does have feelings. Or am i just confused and that' s how good friends act?

You decide not to ask him about it, at least not now. Finn stops in front of your shared apartment and you and Rhea get out.

Damian grabs your wrist and holds you back for a moment. "Call me if you need anything" he says with a serious expression.

You smile and nod and follow Rhea to the door. The boys wait until the door shuts close behind you before continuing do drive to their homes.

Rhea doesn't look back, she just let's her bag and jacket fall onto the floor and makes her way to the bedroom. You sigh, pick up her stuff and hang it up.

As you enter your bedroom you see her lying on the bed, facing away from you, her legs are drawn to her chest. You walk up to her and lay down behind her.

"Hey baby" you whisper and put an arm around her waist spooning her. "It wasn't your fault, you know that" you add and kiss her neck.

"But I could have avoided it if I would have just kept my promise and protected you" she mutters. "But you decided to have fun and that's okay, I could have looked after myself and stayed closer to the boys" you try to soothe her.

"So it's your fault now or what?" she snaps at you. You back off, slightly shocked at her sudden anger at you. "I- sorry babe I didn't mean it" she sighs and turns to lay on her back.

She holds her arms open for you to snuggle up to her and holds you close. You hear her heart beating in her chest, it's always calming you down no matter what.

"There are many ifs you know. Whatever you do, there will always be an if. You couldn't have changed the situation, he would've done it anyway, simply because he knows me and already liked me back in the days with my ex" you explain to her and she hums.

You straighten up a bit and rest on your elbow. You look in her eyes and can't help but smile. She cups your cheek and pulls you down into a kiss. "I love you" she whispers against your lips.

"I love you too, but you really gotta stop blaming yourself all the time" you chuckle, making her pout a little.

"What about I grab us something to eat and you pick a movie hm?" "Okay" she smiles and kisses you again. "But I can't promise we're going to have time to watch the movie" she smirks.

"God you needy little whore" you lovingly tease her. "What?!" she acts shocked. "You know how long I've waited" she pouts. "Yeah, soooo long" you mock her and get up to get the food. You hear her chuckle a little as you make your way to the kitchen.

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

Part 19 :)

I might not be able to post on Tuesday so don't be mad. I will try to pre-write a part until then though

Taglist:@babybatlover @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thatonepansexual2000

[lua-miyuki]

Punishment [2/?] | ZhongChi

TW: self-harm, blood

Childe barely fed himself. His body was weak and he hated his condition, but his wounds were healing slowly and the threatening shadow of the punishment that awaited him was far away.

His survival was his priority.

Zhongli was often at his bedside. Childe knew the features of his face by heart, but couldn't help drinking in the vision his presence offered. As he closed his eyes, hem saw again the gentleness of his gaze and the pursing of his lips as he changed his bandages, and watched the slow pace of his recovery.

Childe watched him, but never spoke to him. And when their eyes met, he looked away.

Childe could no longer hide his feelings for Zhongli from himself, but he couldn't forgive him either.

But Zhongli knew Childe very well. And the day he dreaded arrived early. Zhongli had just changed his bandages, but instead of leaving, he stayed. His insistent gaze foraged his profile and Childe stubbornly stared at the wall.

"Childe. You're an intelligent man. Sometimes too smart for your own good."

A finger caressed his bandaged arm and a shiver ran through the young man.

"I see what you're trying to do. It's time for this childishness to stop."

Childe clenched his teeth, feeling them grind against each other before turning his head towards him and charging headlong into the confrontation.

"Staying locked up here is punishment enough in itself!" he hissed angrily. "I'm far from my family, can't go out, and far too weak to get up and pee on my own! You're my punishment!"

Zhongli frowned.

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't understand! You're taking care of me! You brush aside my hair as it falls over my eyes so fucking gently! And all for what? To receive all this forethought only to be punished like a dog behind! You give me a fucking carrot so you can beat me better!"

His voice climbed a notch and Childe straightened up, his dull blue eyes shining with a rage that overflowed.

"I was only serving my country!"

Zhongli pursed his lips and Childe wanted to scream.

"You disappoint me, Childe. I thought you were more mature than that."

"I'm only human, Zhongli! Don't ever forget that! I'm a human being full of flaws and emotions! I can't silence them for your beautiful eyes and your stupid contracts to a country that isn't mine!"

A bitter laugh skimmed his throat and Childe tilted his head slightly, an evil smile stretching his lips.

"And what will you do, O great Archon? Force me to get better?"

Zhongli returned a few days later with the court physician. Childe's gaze pierced the god as the physician observed his wounds. And when the doctor and Zhongli stepped aside to talk in hushed tones, his knuckles trembled under the pressure of his fists.

Zhongli was checking his physical condition. For punishment. The shadow of what lay ahead threatened to engulf him.

Childe brought his wrist to his mouth and, without ever taking his eyes off Zhongli's back, sank his teeth into his flesh.

Pain ripped through his body and blood gushed between his lips, his pulse pounding wildly, but he resisted and his teeth plunged even deeper. His eyes were blurred by tears and the taste of iron made his head spin. But he resisted again and again, and his teeth plunged a little deeper.

"CHILDE!"

Zhongli immobilized him against the blood-stained mattress, his heart pounding, panic threatening to make him tremble.

"Heal him! Quickly!" he shouted to the doctor, who was looking eagerly at the open wrist.

And Zhongli's eyes widened in horror as he watched Childe. The young man gave him a bloody smile. A smile that didn't reach his tired-rimmed eyes, a tear sliding down his temple.

Written on January 25th, 2024

You can support me through my Ko-Fi page ✨

[jefarawol]

“Come in”

Jefara pushed open the door carefully and slid into the office. Across the room sat The Lord Commander, deep in his work as always not even sparing a glance at the person who entered the room  

“You’re working too hard, Lord Commander.” She smiled.

“Oh! Jefara!” He looked up, startled. Pages rustled as they were dropped and restacked as the Elezen rose to make himself presentable. 

“Please come in, come in. Forgive me if I had known I was expecting you I’d have tidied up a bit.”

He straightened some of the disarray on his desk before smoothing the front of his coat.

“I can't stay long.” She said as she reached his desk.

“Oh.” She could hear his disappointment. “To what then do I owe the pleasure?”

“We've had word from some other scions.” She explained. “Set to return to Limsa Lominsa as we speak.”

Aymeric moved around his desk to stand in front of her.

“We're taking the opportunity to return to check on the progress of the Rising Stones after it was taken back.”

They stood silently for a moment

“Will you be gone long?” There was a slight hope in his words.

“It’s hard to say.” His shoulders dropped disappointedly. “After that we will make for Dravania again, Krile and Thancred may have stumbled on a lead.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “There are still those unaccounted for.”

“If anything happens while I'm gone…” 

“I know where to send people should it be needed.”

Silence fell on them again. She knew she needed to leave but she couldn’t will her feet to make the move. Finally after a moment Aymeric spoke again.

“I never had a chance to thank you.” He rubbed his neck trying to mask the awkwardness he felt trying to find the words he wished to say to her.

“Thank me for what?” She looked at him confused.

“For what?” He looked at her surprised. “You saved my life!”

“Oh!” She startled. “I did.”

Her face softened as she remembered the encounter. It had been over a week now since she had returned to ishgard. The threat of Nidhogg had loomed over her, drowning out any other thoughts she had.

“Forgive me all I seem to have done is make a mess of things lately. It's hard to see the good anymore.”

“I know you risked much healing me.” He reached a hand to cup her cheek gently. “You must have been scared to do such a thing.”

She instinctively turned to nuzzle his hand, it was warm and comforting and she craved his touch.

“What happened after I-” She struggled to find her words.

“I have no regrets,” He brought his other hand to brush against the broken edge of her horn, she shuddered slightly but didn’t pull away. “Except perhaps that we were interrupted.” 

“Aymeric…”

“Shh…” He coaxed her towards him, lifting her chin so he could bring his lips to ghost over hers. 

“We shouldn't.” She protested weakly.

“Don't you always say that?” He smirked playfully.

“I have to go…” She turned her head away, his kiss falling on to her hair instead. He sighed, disappointed but understanding her need to leave. With difficulty she drew away from him hurrying across the room to the door. Glancing back she saw the crestfallen look on his face.

She recalled Edmonts words as she placed her hand on the door. Could Ishgard truly change? Would she be accepted by a church that hated her and her deeds? For a brief moment she saw herself on his arm strolling through the streets of Ishgard, happy. Impossible. She banished the thought. There was no future for them, but she would cling to him as long as she could.

“Aymeric?” She tried to hide the nervousness in her voice.

“Jefara?” He looked at her quizzically.

“You know that there are naming customs that dictate familiarity? Seekers and such.”

“I am aware, yes.” She could see him questioning her line of thought.

“My kind is very much the same.” She breathed deeply. “You may have heard my apa speak it.”

“It was the name Lord Artoirel called you that night.” 

She nodded.

“Edmont and Artoirel have accepted me into their family, it is a small honour I can afford them in gratitude…”

“I would extend that to you as well.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “If you desire too. I understand that you may not wish to publicly but when we are alo-”

She stopped when she felt his hand on her arm turning her from the door, she couldn’t recall seeing him move.

“Jara…” She gasped as she was pressed to the door. Her name slipped from his tongue so delicately as he raised her to meet his lips. This time he would not let her refuse him. Not when she had offered him such a sweet gift. If it weren't for the door she would have melted to the floor with how searing his kiss was. She felt his knee slide between her legs pressing as much of his body against her as he could.

“Aymeric…” She gasped when he released her.

“I love you so much Jara.” His voice was still hushed against her lips. “I will treasure this gift.”

“I love you too.”

He kissed her again once more before she slipped out of the door, his hand lingered on the wood.

“Come back to me…”

[shak3speara-shak3speara]

Error Sans! Reader X Transformers: Animated AU Part 3:

You wake up a few days later in a darkened room on a neat and comfortable bed. Your cranium aches severely, as do your ribs and abdominal region. Deciding to play it calm, you check your stats.

Semi-low HP and a few broken ribs, but more importantly, you're starving. No wonder you passed out.

You display a grumpy frown in irritation, before selecting a chocolate bar from your inventory and devouring it with your two ecto-tongues.

"Woah...!"

You snap your skull to the doorway of the room, allowing light to seep into the area. You are also now capable of seeing a window with dark turquoise curtains. The curtains shutter aside as the light burgundy haired child from your extraterrestrial encounter flicks a switch near the door. The room now overflows with light and you hiss, disgruntled by the severe tonation change.

The little girl bounces over to you excitedly with eyes of intrigue and animosity. "Was that your tongue? You looked like you had two! Why were they blue and glowy? Are you a skeleton? Why are you black-"

"K1d," you manage to spit out as you finish dissolving the melty bitter treat. "SHU-u-ut uP."

You're about to stand up from the bed when the girl waves her hands in front of you with protest, much closer then to your liking.

Your glitches flare up in a second of panic. You use your strings to push her at least six feet away to disregard her warnings. Getting back onto your feet, you stumble disoriented. Your nasal cavity heaves in a heavy gust of air, and you release the child. You reassign your strings to under your hoodie, making sure they wrap around the ribs that need straightening to be realigned and extensively healed.

You exhale with a few shaky wavers, skull tilting towards the ground as you digest the most recent events.

"Whe-E-3re aM 1?" You flatly ask the child as they slowly rise up from their unflattering fall onto their butt on the metal-coated floor.

"Um. You're in Sumdac Tower. In Detroit, Michigan." The girl replies, rubbing her butt with a slightly pained yet wary look. She plays with her own fingers as she says, "I'm Sari Sumdac. I wanted to thank you for saving my friend..." She looks away with pitiful guilty eyes and a sheepish frown.

You stare at her blanly before you sigh, retracting your strings with depleted energy. You walk over to the girl, twirling part of your scarf between your phalanges. You crouch down to be on eye level with her. "So-0-()-rry, SaRi." You say with a half genuine apologetic tone. "I ge-3-Et a b-1-it raTTled wh3n 1 w5ke \/p in plA-5-aces I don't kn)-()-ow well."

Sari perks up in small phases. She tells you she understands with a cheerful smile and optimistic attitude. She pauses, letting awkward silence flow around the room. A few more seconds later she nervously invites you to have breakfast with her and her dad.

You accept, although with some hesitance wondering if they wanted to try something on you. You're not going to be a lab rat to anyone. ...You also can't handle many foods without some other catalyst to help dissolve it, so you contemplate telling the thin child about it while she leads you throughout the halls of an enormous establishment.

You enter the kitchen and Sari tells you to stay put as she steals a cup of coffee being handled by a culinary-programmed robot. You shuffle on your seat, all while eyeing the robot with an unfriendly glare. You decide it wouldn't hurt to check it's code, and you restrain the thing after it sets down a plate of maple syrup-doused pancakes in front of you.

It has relatively simple coding, nothing you wouldn't be able to find in the original Underground. You huff with annoyance as you bite into the sugary morning food placed before you, wanting to choke at the sweetness, but having enough will to swallow it so you recover your energy.

Once you put release the robot from its binds, it offers to turn on the TV attached to a surface a few feet above its height. You nod, giving it an unimpressed stare as it stiffly walks over to a mini console and presses a button, rendering the TV online.

The robot goes back to preparing more breakfast. You watch the TV with steady sockets and a blank face as it displays a news channel. The red and blue robot... What was his name...? Optimus? You scoff at the replay of his proud heroics, rolling your eyes at him finally detaining the weird robin hood rip-off.

Suddenly, your glitches act up in a shivering intensity. What was that...? You open a screen to hack into the place's network. You note there has just been a spike in energy flowing into a certain secluded section of the tower.

You alter some of the internal system's protocols and erase your appearances on its security cameras before checking the cameras placed in what appears to be a personal labratory.

You interest has been piqued as you keep a solid gaze on the image of a robot head and a single unattached hand prodding up from its place stuck in the ground. The head is partly taken apart with one 'eye' seeming to be a monacle, but mimics the structure of the other robot, Optimus. Both eyes glow red.

Wow, so creepy. You internally sass as his eyes focus on a computer screen positioned in front of his view. You are delightfully surprised to see he has the ability to hack the piece of equipment.

It may serve as a good puppet~

The gun metal grey head turns the computer on to show a video of the several robots you've seen prior, and another one.

The other robot appears to have aerial capabilities, and one ginormous ego as well. He even boasts about killing someone named Megatron. You don't need to take a hint to figure out that the robot hauled up inside the restricted area is the one the magenta flier was so giddy about exterminating. Especially after the robot emits an electrical charge that raises to the ceiling and disrupts the connection of several cameras, including yours.

You flinch with a twitching socket. Nonetheless, you don a toothy intrigued grin with your yellow teeth exposed. You finish your meal and boredly wait for Sari and her dad to eat theirs after they arrive.

You refuse to answer most questions Sari's dad, 'Professor Isaac Sumdac' asks you, instead either deflecting the entire conversation or switching it to be a discussion about his accomplishments and robotic empire.

Despite your want to ditch the place entirely, you know Sari has a connection with the giant robots. You know you can exploit that connection to get yourself home. You just need to exhibit... Patience.

You put on a sickeningly sad expression and do your best to pretend to be a nice person. You act as if you were recently involved in some science experiment. Unfortunately, you ended up being stripped into a skeleton through some unforeseen circumstance. You also ended up being kicked out of your apartment once your landlord saw a glimpse of you, meaning you don't have anywhere to stay.

Just like you suspected, Isaac and Sari take disgusting pity on you and offer to accommodate you as long as you need. Of course, you accept. It's not like you'll be staying around for very long anyways. You just need to have a chat with Sari's alien robot friends, steal some Sumdac technology, and rebuild the machine that got you here from scrap.

Some times passes and you find yourself laying in a blanket you crocheted, playing solo cat's cradle as Sari receives schooling from a tutorbot. The robot is talking about a quadratic formula when Sari interrupts it, seemingly conversing with someone on her phone. You note with squinting eyes the tutorbot tries to confiscate the key hung around her neck. It ultimately fails, resulting in Sari thrusting the key into the tutorbot and making it fizzle out of programmed control.

You use your strings to tie up the robot, sending Sari a questioning look as your sockets flicker to her key. You felt the same energy as the past three incidents exude from the key. It has this... Ethereal aura to it as well. You figure this isn't some normal key... Maybe it brought the robot in the secret lab to life?

Isaac makes a video call to check on Sari, asking whether she's tinkered with his stuff. She denies this, with tutorbot comedically stating a few greeting and dismissing class lines. She tries to hide her mischievous doings by giving her dad the excuse she's been helping her friends, 'The Autobots' settle into their secret base. You grip above your nasal cavity with your knuckles, shaking your skull at the pinging thought of how Alphys and Undyne would have a smooch session to see these giant anime-esque robots.

Sari soon shuts off the FaceTime and grabs her backpack in the corner of the room, bringing it to near the table. You open a processing screen and hack the tutorbot's internal functions and revert it back to its proper programming, then switch it off and set it down haphazardly on a swivel chair.

Sari shows you an amazed expression and resumes asking rapid fire questions about what you can do from earlier. You sarcastically remark that she has a sleepover to get to and she brushes it off, asking you to attend too. She tells you the bots would love to meet you. You dryly laugh at her enthusiastic proposition, though consider it and accept it. You know you're not the most pleasant skeleton, nor the kindest person in your multiverse. It would be simply stupid to see you as such. But you want answers about the strange energy that all but surrounds the group of robots and the little girl, so you barely have a genuine choice.

You wait for Sari to pack one last thing into her bag and then leave the tower, walking towards a... Rundown warehouse? This is seriously their base of operations?

Isaac Sumdac is letting his child stay in this crumbling structure of shady businessman filth?

You suck in a sharp breath of air and let it flow through the spaces between your clenched teeth. Sari rushes inside the building while you stroll inside at a leisurely pace, once again tugging your scarf over your skull as far as it can go.

You follow Sari as she skips forward confidently, in contrast, you moderately creep forward with your skull lowered downwards.

Your glitches glare around your body as you listen to a nature documentary click into obnoxiously loud rock music.

The metallic vibrating high-pitched voice of the yellow car robot mockingly rings out,

"Why don't we watch something that won't bore us into stasis lock?"

Part 4 coming soon!

Error Sans was created by loverofpiggies

Transformers: Animated is owned by Hasbro

[myrhymesarepurer]

🌹🌹🌹🌹

Thank you <3 You submitted 4 roses, so you get two pieces, one angsty and one lil flashback. If anyone else would like a little exceprt from my WIP, send a 🌹 to my asks. :) I'm trying to kickstart writing this again, so it'll help me.

Again, from my WIP Four. Obviously, a sequel to my goofier fic of Three, based around the Elric wedding. Four was once a short silly sequel but is now my personal love letter to Royai so. we're chipping away at it. --------

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, Sir.” “You’re lying.” Of course, she was. 

Not only had Roy never had the pleasure to be so close to Riza’s heart, but he had only ever once before seen just a glimpse of it shatter, the mask overwhelmed, the dam breaking. Not even when she turned pale before him, gushing blood from her split artery, did Riza Hawkeye appear in such disarray, at a loss, sufficiently defeated. 

Heartbreak even in spite of her renowned resistance.

“Then I have need to apologize,” Roy ran a weary hand through his hair, “about everything.”

“Everything,” she muttered under her breath,  “Everything,” Riza knew exactly what he meant, and she refused to let it happen again. 

Ink, Sand, Blood, Flame,  everything. 

Roy Mustang cared and he cared too much, so greedy for his guilt. She knew what he meant and he knew what he started. He knew he was in for it. No, Riza fought. 

This was a conversation that continuously persisted year after year, simultaneously in past and present, a routine they ran through too many times to waste even one more moment on it now. 

Questions already asked, answers already known. They repeated their argument as they had many times before, behind closed doors, alone in hospital rooms, broken record, scratches and cracks, same old song. Riza started them off, and he fell seamlessly into lockstep. 

“I gave it to you for a reas-” Riza said. “Yes, you’ve told m-” Roy replied. “You are and always were to be the Flame Alchemist. We wouldn’t be here without that.” “Exactly, we wouldn’t be here without that,” Riza pointedly and defiantly ignored Roy’s deliberate double entendre.

Relentlessly, she persisted. 

“Regardless how grave the outcome, Sir, that decision was-” “Yours and yours alone,” Roy rubbed at the pain behind his eyes,“Yes, I know, I know.” “If you know, General, then why are we here nearly a decade after the war, years after the promised day discussing this still.”  --------

“Oh and concerning lunch, Lieutenant Colonel, do stay inside.” Hawkeye stuck up a finger and pointed to the windows behind him. Mustang glanced over his shoulder and grimaced at the rain just beginning to form a downpour. “Not even a quick walk?” Roy exhaled and raised an eyebrow, “Test your response time?” “I assure you there would be no response time, Colonel. I’ll be in here, picking up your slack”

“Ok, ok” Roy surrendered to Hawkeye’s sharp tongue with a soft smile, “Rest assured, I’ll be safe, Lieutenant. You’re dismissed.” 

“Thank you, Sir." Satisfied, Hawkeye pivoted toward Hughes seated across from Roy, clicked her heals and nodded, "Major Hughes" Maes lifted an informal hand in farewell, but the very instant the Second Lieutenant left the room, Hughes leaned in and cut a most dramatic whisper. “What was that!? “What was what?” Roy mumbled in monotone to his forms and flipped the page. “I mean, when you’re not sucking up to the brass, you’re the grumpiest fool I know. You haven’t even looked me in the eyes since we started talking - well, since I started talking. Heavens knows if you’re paying attention, and yet you were so wonderfully nice to her.” “You’re mistaken, Hughes. I’m nice to everyone.” Roy looked up to him, “Idiot.” Hughes ignored his jest altogether, too eager to prove his point, “I mean, you were always rather soft on her in the desert, but now as her boss; If anybody would take the chance to use their flashy new rank to be an asshole for the fun of it, it’s you.” Roy snorted, straightened his stack, and picked up his cold coffee. “You haven’t seen her when she’s angry.” he muttered into the lid idly, “It’s best to keep her onside.”  Hughes barked a laugh, “Well if you want to keep her onside, you certainly shouldn’t tempt flirting with her at work.” Coffee spewed from Roy’s mouth as he fell into a cough, “I’m sorry. Flirt!?”

[igot-the-juice]

Serenity - Chapter 9

Masterlist

Summary - Vulgaria was a remote country, held its own beauty quite unlike others. Everything about it was peculiar. The village, the castle, the people. In the village sat a rather famed tailor shop, and the recluse that was its head seamstress unknowingly caught the eye of a notorious henchman of the barbaric Baron Bomburst. Accepting a tempting offer, what was supposed to be a simple project began to meddle with her already disorganized family, and little did she know her sanity would soon follow.

Reuben decided to stay with Mary as she continued her work, watching her careful movements in curiosity. The baroness' dress hung on a mannequin, nearly finished as Mary made final adjustments. Finally, she straightened it out and fluffed the skirt just a bit, standing back to admire her handiwork while fiddling with her fingers.

Sheer fabric was used for the arms, collar bone area and back. Ruffled fabric lined the shoulders, trailing around the back of the neck. The majority of it was a silver color, not too flashy yet still stuck out in a crowd. It held purple accents, of course, in representation of the Vulgarian colors.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Mary questioned anxiously, glancing at Reuben.

"I think you know my answer."

"'Of course, Miss Mary, she'll love it!'" She mocked him, making sure to flail her arms dramatically as she made her way over to her sketchbook to work on the design for the Baron.

"Well, you're not wrong, Miss Mary." He wiggled a finger behind her ear making her curl away from him and he smirked. "I'll be off to make my rounds, get out of your hair." Mary shot him a look as he made his way to the door. "I'm not sure when I'll be back, but I've told the maid to make sure you eat." Reuben eyed her before shutting the door behind him. Mary rolled her eyes with a bashful smile, sketching away.

She paid no mind to the time, naturally. There were no windows in the room and she was delved too deep into her work to really care to check. Emilia was her only clock. Mary did grow more aware after lunch, knowing she had to prepare herself for dinner.

A knock sounded softly from the door and was cracked open.

"Miss?" Mary whipped her head towards the maid with a nervous expression.

"Time already?" She received a sympathetic smile.

"I'm afraid so." Mary sighed, finding a stopping point in her work to follow her to Reuben's quarters. Her stomach sank at the sight of a new dress that lay across the bed.

"It gets tiring wearing more than one dress a day, no?" She questioned Emilia as she began undoing her dress, taking a deep breath within the short moment of freedom.

"I certainly would think so. At least you're not the one tying and untying all of them." Mary nodded in agreement, slipping out of the dress and into the more elegant one that Emilia held for her. "Your head seems to be healing well." The maid felt her tense slightly. "I could try and conceal it if you wish?"

"No, it's fine." Mary mumbled. "Thank you, though."

"My pleasure, Miss." Emilia finished up and undid Mary's hair, running her fingers through it in thought. She sat her down at the vanity, beginning to twist and braid it.

"Have you ever worked closely with the barons?" Now Emilia sighed.

"Once. Quite the experience. I would rather not do it again."

"Are you able to talk about it?" Emilia shook her head.

"I'm afraid I would speak ill of them if I did." She grabbed a few bobby-pins from the desk, beginning to pin up Mary's hair.

"What would happen if you did?"

"Let's just say you wouldn't be seeing me too often." She messed with her hair a bit more to perfect it. "Your curiosity could land you the same fate, Miss." Emilia noticed the woman's skin pale at the thought. Mary swallowed as the maid placed ornaments in her hair, then clipped a necklace around her neck.

"I worry I'll still be underdressed." Emilia chuckled.

"That's what they want." The maid fiddled with the fabric of Mary's dress, in a way soothing the both of them. "That's why everything seems so bland here. Everything except themselves." Mary looked up at Emilia with an unreadable expression. "Come, now." She patted her shoulders and the woman stood up. "I'm sure the catcher is waiting."

The two of them stepped into the hall and, sure enough, Reuben was making his way towards them. Emilia shut the door behind them and curtsied, then left in the opposite direction.

"Beautiful, as always." He complimented with a smirk, holding his arm out to her to which she took bashfully. As they ventured through the halls he could feel her hold grow more tense, anxious. He could almost feel her aggressive pulse through her hands. "You'll be alright. Remember what I told you."

"Will you be staying?" Mary nearly whispered, moving in closer to Reuben. He felt his chest swell with what almost felt like pride knowing she trusted him enough to feel protected, that he was a source of comfort for her. Then again, he was essentially all she had left to hold on to.

"He asked me personally, so I would assume so, yes. Let alone the fact that he thought you were -" He cut himself off, swallowing. "That you are my lady." Mary had to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling. He began to smile himself when her grip loosened a bit in comfort. Mary's eyes grew curious when they approached a set of glass doors. Reuben held the door open for her and they stepped out into what she assumed was a garden.

It was a decent size, though not incredibly large. It was vibrant compared to the dull interior of the castle, but it was a welcome change. Colorful flowers bloomed wherever she looked, a variety of floral smells pleasantly filling her nose. The golden rays of the setting sun rested on the area, creating an even more alluring scene.

Reuben led her down a few steps, guiding her further into the garden as an awed grin spread across her face. It was calming enough to make her forget what she was dreading in the first place, but then a small opening brought her back to reality.

A medium-sized glass table sat in the center, a set of tasteful chairs sat around it. A larger bottle of wine accompanied by glasses sat upon it, already opened and being drunk by the Baron. The Baroness, however, waited patiently as she looked around at the garden. There was a glint in her eyes, however, when she spotted the two of them entering the court and smiled.

"Bombie?" She nudged her husband and he shot up, boisterously cheering. Mary curtsied while Reuben bowed, as per usual.

"No, no, no! Have a seat, none of that!" He exclaimed happily. Reuben pulled a chair out next to the baroness for Mary before seating himself next to her. She looked over at Mary and offered a warm smile, and she gave a more shy one in return. "Well," The Baron drawled as he leaned in. "How is our seamstress settling in? Well, I hope?"

"Very well, your excellency. I couldn't be more thankful for your hospitality."

"Ah, but it's just an eye for an eye! You're helping us, and as long as you do, you will be a welcome guest here." Servers arrived, pouring wine into their glasses and setting plates with silverware in front of them.

"How is your project coming along, Miss Elise?" The Baroness spoke up, sipping on her wine as she turned towards Mary in keen interest.

"It couldn't be any better, your majesty. I actually finished your dress just this morning." The Baroness gasped in excitement, clapping her hands together.

"That was quite quick! Efficient, isn't she, Bombie?" The man in question just chuckled with a nod.

"Fast, yes. But quality is what I am personally looking for."

"You couldn't ask for a finer dress, your excellency." Reuben piped in to support Mary, and it seemed to boost the Baron's confidence in her work. The maids returned with their dinner, laying trays and bowls in front of them with what seemed like enough food for the whole village to Mary.

She glanced around, unsure of their customs and courtesies when it came to dining. She watched the others begin to plate once the Baron began and followed suit, being cautious with how much food she took, and rather eating with her stomach instead of her eyes. Mary had to hold in her already obvious satisfaction as she took her first bite, the food warm and freshly cooked.

They all made small talk throughout the meal, whether it was lighthearted joking or simple questions. She wasn't quite sure what to think of them. She'd heard awful things from the villagers, and then Emilia, yet Reuben seemed to think so highly of them. He always spoke of them with utmost respect, save for a snide remark every now and then, but it happens with everyone. She just wasn't sure if it was out of fear or genuine admiration.

"When should we expect to see your work?" The Baroness curiously asked once they all began to settle from the meal, though Bomburst continued to nibble here and there.

"I've just started on his excellency's, so I would say the day after the next."

"Well, I'm thrilled to have a fresh mind at work. And one with unique talent, I've heard." The Baroness glanced over at Reuben, and in turn Mary looked over at him as well. He quirked a brow at her and she gave a tight lipped smile.

"You've built it up so much, I better not be disappointed when I see it!" The Baron suddenly called out. Mary's skin turned to paper, but she continued with her pleasant facade for appearances. She felt Reuben sneak a hand over hers from under the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"I certainly have no doubts about your talent. If the Child Catcher says your work is a sight to behold, then I trust his opinion." Mary covered his own hand with her other and color gradually returned to her face.

"I suppose you are right, my dear." Bomburst begrudgingly agreed. "He's been with us for many years, you know." He directed at Mary. "I would say he is my most trusted worker here in Vulgaria. I'd take him over the Chancellor or any of those other aristocrats any day." Though it sounded like a compliment, the Baron truly meant it as more of an insult to those in the castle. "So if I see you mistreat him, or if there's any suspicion of it, I will have your head."

Mary feigned a smile at the Baron.

"I wouldn't dream of it, your excellency." He nodded firmly, then slapped his thighs and stood up.

"Well, I think I'll retire for the night. Many things to take care of. I'll be waiting for our little gift, Miss Elise." He poked fun at the seamstress before abruptly leaving the court. The Baroness soon stood to join him, but turned towards the two of them one last time.

"You're more than welcome to visit the gardens if you wish." She then followed after her husband, an elegant skip in her step that Mary found curious.

She released a breath she didn't know she was holding and sat back in her chair, loosening her posture. Reuben held in an amused chuckle.

"Care for a walk?" The man asked as he stood, offering a gloved hand to her. She collected herself for a few moments before she took hold of it and followed him.

The air was but a gentle breeze that calmed her and she took in her surroundings appreciatively. The village never held such gardens, and it felt as if she had been trapped in the castle forever. She could already see herself visiting quite frequently whether it was by herself or with Reuben.

They reached a railing that looked over the smaller mountain the castle sat on, revealing a grandiose view of the countryside not visible to the village. It held rich shades of green in its hills and other mountains, an occasional structure in the distance. The sun had just reached the horizon and Mary couldn't help but stare.

As Reuben hesitantly slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer she began to realize how peaceful everything truly was in that moment. It was hazy, as if it wasn't truly reality. Never would she have thought she would end up where she was. Not in the castle, not as a seamstress in that castle, and especially not with the man who practically everybody feared most, second to the Baron himself.

"Reuben?" Mary whispered, fearful of breaking whatever it was that was happening.

"Yes?" She hesitated before answering.

"I'm scared to leave this moment."

"Reasonably so." He looked down at her from where they stood. "But there's much more to come."

[empiretoppled]

guardian angel ⸝⸝ oneshot

pairings: sharon carter x winter soldier!reader.

warnings: mentions of blood and injury, attempted brainwashing.

summary: once upon a time you were a winter soldier, but those days are long behind you. at least until someone tries to use your code words to activate that side of you. luckily you seem to have a guardian angel aka sharon carter.

word count: 1312 (can you believe this is the longest oneshot i've ever written?).

// REQUEST: Can I request a Sharon x f!reader where reader was a winter soldier like Bucky with the arm and everything and someone tries to use to words to activate the reader and Sharon is there and she’s just really protective of reader helps her through it 🥺🥺 ༐ A/N: it's probably obvious but this is my first attempt at writing any type of a fight scene, please be gentle.

MASTERLIST

You should have known something was odd the moment your contact had finally called back, should have realised there was something wrong about the whole deal, hell you should have called everything off the moment Madripoor was mentioned.

But you had been so desperate, like a dog begging for scraps, that the mere idea of finally being released from the mental hell Hydra had put you in put you in the sort of situation where ignoring any possible lead, no matter how unreliable and risky it was hadn't even seemed like a viable option.

And look where your desperation had gotten you, crouched in a dirty alley, back pressed against a brick wall, praying to whatever god was wiling to listen that you had successfully escaped the men chasing after you. A quick glance down confirmed what you had feared, your arm – the metal one was fried beyond repair, the damage far worse then anything you would be able to fix all alone, stuck in a stupid alley.

Seeing the state of your arm made the fear in your gut grow, whoever these men were they had come prepared, taking out your main advantage before the fight had fully begun. You arm had been made to withhold nearly anything and were you not in so much pain you would have been impressed that they knew how to break it in such maner, but right now you were annoyed and more then a little frightened.

The serum rushing through your veins did very little in terms of dulling the amount of pain you were currently in and you could feel the initial rush of adrenaline wearing off, forced to bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying out in order to avoid gaining attention or even worse revealing your location to the same men you were so desperately trying to outrun.

It seemed that whatever short period of rest the alley had been able to provide would soon be broken as the sound of approaching footsteps reached your hiding spot. Years of practice made you leap to your feat, your teeth grinding as the sudden movement made another stab of pain run through your injured arm, black spots blurring your vision.

By the time your vision somewhat cleared and you were able to once again focus on your surrondings, there were three of the men rounding the corner, their guns drawn and pointed in your direction. It took you barely a moment to absorb the scene and act accordingly, once again driven by pure instinct as you charged at them, knocking the guns from two of the men and ducking just in time to avoid getting hit by the bullet shot by the third.

The closest man lunged and you barely had time to react, stepping to the side at the last minute and grasping at his hair as he passed, using the man's momentum to throw him aside, his head hitting the brick wall you had been pressed against less then a few minutes ago. The second came at you before you had a chance to even straighten yourself, bending your injured arm with enough force that it made you cry out in agony, a wail that would without doubt drag even more unwanted attention your way.

Trapped, you struggled to move away, desperation kicking in as you blindly hit in his direction, only to receive another blow to you side as his hold on you tightened. "Now, now, that's enough of that soldat.", he reprimanded you, as out of breath as you felt, his voice more dissapointed then angry, similiar to that of an owner trying to control a disobedient puppy and way too smug for your liking.

"What a coincidence, I happen to agree, that is quite enough of that.", a new voice rang out, shrill and sudden, quickly followed by the sound of a gun going off, the man's grip faltering just enough for you to slip out of it. However, the respite didn't last long as he pulled you back by your hair, swiftly turning you around so you stood between him and the new arrival, shielding himself from whoever it was that seemingly came to your aid.

"Now, I was going to wait until we were in a more controlled environment but what can I say? I'm nothing if not flexible.", the man behind you took a shallow breath as if preparing himself, "Желание." No, no, no! "Семнадцать. Ржав-" Bang.

You felt it before you heard it, sharp pain through your middle, unmistakable and far too familiar. Whoever it was that came to your rescue shot the man holding you, straight through you.

No longer held back, you swayed on your feet, closing your eyes as you prepared yourself for the harsh fall. But the action proved to be unnecessary as strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you into their side and taking the worst of the impact as your weight took them down with you.

"Sorry about that.", the voice was much closer now, softer then it had been earlier, familiar, your groggy mind added.

Every cell in your body screamed for you to stay down, to rest, that you were safe now but you fought against it, pained moans falling from your lips as you tried to crawl as far away as you could. It was only when you opened your eyes that you stopped, the hood that had been pulled over your savior's head had fallen down sometimes during your struggle and your fuzzy brain was finally able to recognize the person in front of you.

"Sharon?", you croaked out, confusion obvious in your voice, whoever it was you had expected to see, it sure as hell wasn't Sharon Carter. "Hell of a reunion, am I right?", she replied, pulling herself from the ground, her voice teasing but visibly hesitant as she approached you, hands in front of her as a clear sign that she meant no further harm.

The gesture was clearly more for your sake then out of fear, there wasn't much fight left in you, the ease with which she had stood up made it obvious your earlier attempt at getting away from her had only hurt you, it made your lip twitch in an attempt to smile.

She stopped walking a small distance away from you, her gaze questioning, and it was only when you gave her a nod that she moved closer, crouching next to you, swiftly taking off her hoddie, doing her best to tie it around you tight enough to stop the blood flow. "It won't help for long but it should be good enough until I get you to my apartment to patch it up.", she mumbled and you were unsure whether she was saying it for your benefit or hers.

You looked up at her then down to the makeshift bandage which was seeping with more blood, your face paling at the sight. "You sure about that?"

"Yes.", she stood back up, her grip on your shoulders firm but gentle as she pulled you to your feet, quick to position herself in a way that let her support most of your body weight, which was a good thing as you weren't sure you wouldn't have just fallen back to the ground if she didn't.

You were dead on your feet, barely able to keep your eyes fully open by the time you both reached her car, Sharon's talking the only that kept you somewhat awake. You could't quite tell what she was saying but her voice gave you something to focus on which you were extremely grateful for.

It was only about an hour later, after she had both cleaned and dressed the injury, that you finally let yourself fall asleep, healing and most importantly safe. With Sharon right by your side.

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (8/12)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Okay, so that cliffhanger, huh? I thought our mystery guests were obvious, but then again, I'm writing the story. But We'll answer all those questions here!

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

-/-

Killian’s side of the bed is cold when Emma’s alarm goes off. She expects him to still be there either sleeping or on his phone – he seems to do most of his work in the mornings when he doesn’t want to get out of bed – but he’s not there.

She hates herself a little bit for even noticing the cool feel of the sheets beneath her fingertips.

Emma groans and stretches her legs out, wondering how much time she has to go back to sleep before she absolutely has to go into work. She squints at her phone. She’s got two hours before she has to be at work. She could definitely sleep for another hour and a half and then look like shit at work. That might be nice, actually.

But then she smells something cooking downstairs, and almost on cue, her stomach growls.

Slowly, she gets out of bed, and the floor is cold against her bare feet. She should really go take a shower before she goes downstairs, and despite the good smell, she goes into the bathroom and quickly showers, leaving her hair dry. It’s curly and a bit frizzy from leaving it wet after her shower at the Nolans’ last night, but that’s a problem for another time…tomorrow. She’ll make it look better tomorrow. Emma grabs a pair of shorts and a button-down, putting them both on, and she pulls out a pair of sandals from her closet for later. She’s not as presentable as she should be, but maybe she can stay in her office and away from customers.

Besides, this is better than what it could have been had she not at least rinsed off the remaining sunscreen and sweat from her skin.

Emma smooths down her shirt and fluffs her hair. There’s the slightest bit of red on her chest from Killian’s beard, so she buttons up one more button before heading downstairs. From the smell of it, Killian is either cooking pancakes or waffles, and she’ll take either.

As far as her seasonal friends with benefits go, Killian is definitely the winner.

For the breakfast, the sex, and maybe the conversation. She thought about that for too long yesterday, and it’s too damn early for her to be thinking about any of this today. All she wants is food and coffee, so that’s all she’s thinking about. It’s all she can.

“Damn, Jones,” Emma shouts from the top of the stairs, “something smells delicious.”

She’s at the bottom of the stairs when she hears other voices. For one brief second, she thinks Killian is on the phone, but she’d know those voices anywhere. One haunts her nightmares, the other is the voice of her dreams, and neither was supposed to be here for three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

What the hell has Neal done that he has to show up like this without even giving her any kind of heads up?

And how does she fix this? Killian was never supposed to know about Henry. He was the one question she’d never answer. He would have been her veto had it ever come up. When he got home from spending the summer with his dad in New York City, Emma was going to start phasing Killian out. They’d only ever spend time at his place, she’d never spend the night unless Henry was sleeping over at his friends. Usually, she doesn’t have this problem because the guy leaves way before this. He doesn’t have the chance to ever know about Henry, and Emma likes it that way.

The last guy that met Henry was Walsh, and that was only on accident. Or at least that’s what Walsh said, but Emma’s always thought Walsh showed up at the Blue Dog at that time on purpose because he knew Henry would be there with Emma. The guy never understood why Emma didn’t let him meet her son, but when you’ve never been able to trust a man besides David and possibly Graham with him, you have reservations.

His dad’s a full-blown asshole who has upended her life more than once, and she’s already so done with whatever bullshit excuse he’s got for bringing Henry home early.

Emma jumps in place, trying to breathe without really inhaling, and then she turns the corner into the kitchen.

The sight is as bad as she expected. The first person she sees is Killian, and if it were any other morning, this would be a good view to wake up to. His joggers hang low on his hips, he’s standing by the stove shirtless, and his hair is sticking in several directions from where her hands tugged on it last night. Then she sees Neal, who is standing in the corner with his arms crossed, frown on his face. He looks older since she saw him at the beginning of June. His beard is filled with more gray, his hair unruly in a purposeful way. He looks pissed, and Emma already knows this is about to be hell.

And then she sees Henry, and the tenseness fades from her shoulders when she sees his smile and the giant backpack he’s wearing. He’s got to empty that damn thing out.

God, she’s missed him so much.

“Mom!” he squeals, running toward her.

Emma opens her arms and embraces him, holding onto the back of his head and breathing him in. As much as Emma sometimes likes the freedom her summer affords her, she does miss her son. A lot. Him being gone is the entire reason she picks up shifts at The Oaks. She needs the distraction, not so much the money, until the summer is over and Henry comes back home for school.

“Hey, kid,” Emma laughs as she keeps hugging him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Can I have the waffles?”

“What?”

He pulls back and grins. “The waffles Killian made. Can I have them?”

“Killian,” Emma slowly repeats. She looks over Henry’s head toward Killian who is furiously scratching behind his ear, and she realizes just how much he has a deer in the headlights look going on. As confused as she is right now, she knows he’s just had a few bombs dropped on him. “Uh, yeah, why don’t you and my friend Killian eat. I’m going to talk to your dad in the backyard for a minute. Neal.”

“What? I don’t get a hi?” Neal asks.

“Backyard. Now.”

He smiles, and once upon a time, she would have found that charming. Right now, she wants to slap it right off his face. Whatever he has to say, she knows it won’t be good. Emma closes the back door behind them and moves far enough across the deck to keep Henry from hearing.

“What the hell, Neal?”

The smile falls, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest. She has to put up a barrier with him. “Why are you so angry? Are you not excited to see Henry? He has been gone all summer, you know.”

“Of course I’m excited to see my kid. But I wasn’t supposed to see him three weeks from now. And with a head’s up. We have a schedule, Neal. Like, a court-mandated schedule that you made us get, and you’re not sticking to it.”

“That I made us get?” he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I recall, you’re the one who kept my son from me for seven years and then didn’t want to give me custody.”

How is he such an ass? Seriously. How does he still not get it?

Emma steps closer and straightens her back. She doesn’t need to make herself taller, not for him, but she does anyway. “I got pregnant with Henry when I was sixteen. You were twenty-four. Do the math on how that’s wrong in about eighty-two different ways. And if I recall, and trust me I have a pretty good memory of this day, when I told you I had something important to tell you, you disappeared off the face of the planet. That doesn’t really seem like a guy who deserves to know about his kid.”

“Oh, come on, Ems. You can’t still be mad about that, can you?”

Is it still considered assault if Emma punches someone who deserves to be punched? There must be a law making that okay.

“Why are you here early, Neal?”

She doesn’t want to get into this with him. He’s never going to understand how much he fucked up Emma’s life. There’s no need for her to try to get him to understand now when all she wants is to know why he just showed up early.

“Who’s that guy in there?” he asks, evading her question.

“A friend.”

His mouth crinkles when he laughs, and she hates it. “A shirtless friend who fixes you breakfast? I hope you don’t make a habit of this when Henry’s home.”

“You don’t get a say on my dating life. Or my parenting skills. Now answer my question.”

He blows out air, and rolls his eyes, like she’s the one inconveniencing him. “Look, Tamara wants to go on vacation before summer ends, and she didn’t want to bring Henry with us. So I thought I’d bring him back to you and it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m sure you can keep him entertained until he goes back to school.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Neal, are you serious? You are breaking the rules of our custody agreement because you want to go on vacation with your girlfriend? How is it possible that you’re so selfish? I mean, God, seriously.”

Emma groans and buries her face in her hands before screaming. Or at least screaming as loud as she can without Henry knowing.

“Henry is a good fucking kid,” Emma continues, slowly breathing to calm herself down, “and he loves you. He doesn’t see all the shit I do because I’ve hidden that from him, but you can’t just do this, Neal. You can’t decide you’re done playing dad and give him back to me when you nearly made me go broke fighting to keep custody of the kid I’d raised since he was born. That’s not how being a parent works.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who has used her time away from her kid to fuck British tourists and is upset her kid is back early because her vacation has to end.”

Emma looks up into the eyes of the man she once loved, the man who gave her son his eyes, and she says, “Go say goodbye to Henry and get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you next June, if you still decide to show up then.”

It’s a dismissal, and Neal never takes those. Not sitting down at least. She’s sure there will be arguments and petty jabs for the next few months. He’ll make her life hell while playing as the good guy. He has this act where he says things like “he’s a good person now, can’t she just move on from the past?”

There’s a difference between forgiveness and moving on that not a lot of people get. They say you have to forgive to move on, but that’s not true. You can move on without forgiveness because some people don’t deserve it. At all. Sometimes all you can do is stop letting them live in your head rent free, and you have to forgive yourself for ever falling for the lies.

Emma’s chosen that route. She’s forgiven herself, has moved on with her life even with Neal constantly trying to pull her back down, and she’s not about to stand here and let him criticize her personal life when he has no business in it.

Through the window, Emma watches Neal hug Henry goodbye. It takes less than a minute before he’s gone and Henry is back to eating his breakfast. Emma would laugh, she wants to at how ridiculous this all is, but she’s not finding anything about today funny. Because while Neal will go back to New York and will be happy, she’s stuck here cleaning up the mess he just made because she has to do everything in her power to make sure her kid never knows the version of his dad she knows.

A phone call would have been nice. At least then she could have gotten Killian out of the house. She still would have been pissed, but at the very least, she would have been able to make things a little better than they are now.

“Shit,” Emma breathes out, looking toward the sky. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Emma inhales and exhales several times before forcing a smile and walking inside where Henry is eating the breakfast that was meant for her and talking to Killian about soccer of all things.

Well, not of all things. Most of the time, Emma forgets that Killian plays professionally. Hell, they talked about it yesterday, and it still isn’t at the forefront of her mind. That part of his life has nothing to do with hers…except for right now when Killian is talking to her son about it.

He still doesn’t have on a damn shirt.

“Mom, did you know Killian used to play soccer? Like, as a job. That’s so cool! Do you think he could coach my team?”

“I did know that, kid.” Emma kisses his forehead, and he squirms away. It’ll take him a week or two to get used to her kind of affection versus Neal’s, so she’s not too offended. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize him.”

“Since when do you watch a lot of British soccer? Or football as Killian calls it.” She mimics Killian’s accent, but she also knows she did a terrible job with it.

Henry shrugs and stuffs a large bite of waffle in his mouth. “Dad doesn’t have anything to watch on TV but sports channels. All I did during the day was watch old soccer matches.”

“Wait. Where was your dad?”

Henry shrugs again. “I don’t know. At work I guess.”

Neal works from home most days of the week. What an ass. Emma bets he didn’t even get someone to watch Henry. He just used old sports reruns to keep him entertained.

“Hey, kid,” Emma says, finally looking to Killian, “can you stay in here and eat breakfast while I talk to Killian in the other room?”

“Sure.”

Emma flashes a tight smile and then nods her head toward the stairs. Killian gets the message and walks upstairs without being asked, immediately heading toward the bedroom. He stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest, and Emma watches his jaw tick, the smile he had on for Henry a moment ago, gone.

Softly, Emma closes the door behind her.

“I have my personal question of the day, Swan. You have a son?”

Okay, great, so this is how it’s going to be. Emma opens her dresser drawer and pulls out a shirt for Killian. He catches it after she tosses it and tugs it on. It doesn’t help as much as she’d like it to.

“Okay, look,” Emma begins, “you were never supposed to meet Henry. He wasn’t…his dad was supposed to have him for three more weeks.”

“The contract on my rental house has more time on it than that.”

Emma runs her hands through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know. I would have figured it out. Only go to your place, spend less time together. I mean, it’s only natural, right? Because you’re going to leave, and it would make sense for things to die down between us.”

Killian laughs, but Emma gets the sense he doesn’t find any of this funny. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. This was only about sex, right?”

“Killian.”

“No, no.” He holds his hand up. “It’s fine, Swan. I get it. It’s my fault for thinking we might be mates on top of that.”

“I mean, we are – kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” Emma sighs and sits on the end of her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. Even more, she doesn’t know what to say. She definitely doesn’t know how to feel. “It was never supposed to be like this. I’m usually better at not blurring the lines. I don’t know what happened with us that made me drop my guard.”

“I knew you found me charming.”

Emma laughs and falls back on the mattress. “I have a kid, Killian, and he’s back. I can’t be like I was. We can’t just fuck whenever we want or stay out late or eat pizza at three in the morning. I’ve got to make sure Henry has a place to stay and Mary Margaret is across the country visiting her parents so that’s out for awhile. And I’m still working two jobs because I thought I had time to do that. I don’t, God, I don’t know what to do about anything in my life. Plus, you know, I want to spend time with Henry, and I don’t have a lot of free time.”

“I could watch him, love. He’s a bit older than what I’m used to with my nieces, but I’m sure I can find ways to entertain him.”

Emma sits up. Her heart is beating way too fast, and suddenly, the true reality of this situation hits her.

The man she’s been sleeping with has met her son.

And he’s offering to babysit.

What the actual hell?

She needs time to think. And scream. She definitely has to scream into her pillow for at least an hour because she literally cannot think of another thing to do. This is all too much, and she needs Killian to leave. He makes this all too complicated. She needs to go downstairs and eat breakfast with Henry. That she can do. That’s not complicated. That’s something she’s done every day for ten years, even if it’s usually Pop Tarts or a bowl of cereal, not homemade waffles and eggs.

“Can you, uh,” Emma starts, biting her lip, “can you go home? I need to spend time with Henry. He won’t show it, but I know he knows why his dad brought him home early. I’ve got some crap to deal with, but I’ll text you later.”

His eyes narrow, and Emma knows that look by now. He knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t expect him to call her out on her lie.

And he doesn’t because as quickly as his eyes narrow, they widen and a slight smile creeps onto his lips. “I’ll see you later, Swan. I’ll get my clothes out of the machine downstairs and go.”

“Thanks.”

Killian doesn’t move, and Emma has a hard time looking at him until she does. His eyes are so damn blue. It’s ridiculous.

But then he moves. Leaves, actually, just like she asked him to, and she hears every single step as he leaves the house and gets into his car. Emma breathes out a sigh of relief, maybe a little confusion, and then she grabs her phone of her bedside table.

Not a single warning text or call from Neal, just like she thought. Ass.

ES: SOS. My house. 10 minutes.

RL: Are you dead?

ES: Yes, I’m texting you from beyond.

RL: I am hungover. Give me 30.

Emma tosses her phone on her bed and heads downstairs. The life she was living is over. Henry’s home, and she is his mom. That’s what she has to do, and right now, that means putting her anger at Neal and confusion with Killian behind her to go eat breakfast with her kid.

She can only partially ignore that Killian was making this breakfast for her.

For them.

-/-

“King Harold,” Ruby says when she walks through the door in her pajamas and immediately sees Henry, “welcome back to your seaside palace. Come give me a hug.”

“Only if you never call me Harold again.”

“I can’t agree to that, Harold.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but he hugs Ruby anyway. “My name is Henry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby kisses the top of his head. “You smell like waffles.”

“Killian made waffles for breakfast.”

“Killian did?” she asks, looking over Henry’s head toward Emma. Emma shrugs and cocks her head.

“Kid, why don’t you go unpack? When you’re finished, we’ll go to the beach before I have work.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Emma hums and nods at the stairs. “I told them I’d be late today. Get your bags and go.”

Henry quickly grabs his suitcases. They’re nearly bigger than him, but he manages to drag them up the stairs. Emma waits until she hears his bedroom door close, and then she moves to the kitchen and collapses on a barstool. Ruby fixes herself a plate of leftover food and starts eating. “I have eight thousand questions.”

Without lifting her head from the counter, Emma tries to answer at least half those questions. “Killian slept over and was making breakfast when Neal and Henry walked in, so they both met him, which went over as well as you’d expect. Neal didn’t tell me he was bringing Henry back early, but apparently his girlfriend got tired of having him around and wanted to go on vacation. Neal thought ambushing me was the best way to go about the situation, and then he got pissed about me having a guy over.”

Emma peaks up to see Ruby blinking. Slowly. Did she not process anything or is she just so hungover that it’s taking her a long time to figure out what to say?

“Was Neal charming or something when you guys were together?’

Emma laughs. “I was sixteen, and he paid attention to me. He might as well have been Prince Charming.”

“He’s the worst.” Ruby scrunches up her nose. “And you’re not a Prince Charming type of girl. I get more of a rebel vibe from you.”

“Yeah, because mom and restaurant manager means rebel.”

Rub leans over and pokes Emma’s nose. “I don’t think you know how badass you are, Emma Swan. Give me a minute to get some coffee and make more food because I definitely need to dissect everything that’s going on with you. Baby daddy and new boyfriend not included.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, right. Just sex friend because you totally invite sex friends to parties at Marg’s place. That seems normal.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “I invited you here to help with a crisis. Not create a new one.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruby sighs, “Mr. Jones is a hell of a lot better than most of the guys you shack up with. Your unfortunate sperm donor included. I’d think about that if I were you. I mean, we both know you’re about to ghost him, but at least think about it, Emma.”

Yeah, maybe she will.

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @gloriousfemaleworrier @spartanguard @snowbellewells

[beetlebumxo]

I Kind of Like Crazy (smut)

I Kind of Like Crazy (smut)

Pairing: Early 00s Damon x Reader

Word count: 3,916

Warnings: SMUT, language, the usual smut warnings... 

A/N: Based on "psycho" Damon from the Gorillaz Charts of darkness/Bananaz, also slightly inspired by the show "Ratched". Thank you to my friend Laura for this prompt/working out some of the ideas with me. As a backstory, (well, canon from CoD) Damon went "insane" as he claims he was "beaten up by cartoon characters" and ended up in a mental institution. This is the setting for the story.

--

It was his first day here, he had gotten into a fight before coming in. His face was scratched up, and a long white bandage was wrapped around his (presumably) aching head. 

"My name is Y/N, if you need anything just ask for me." I chirped while looking down at him. He was slumped in a chair, holding his head up with this hand, resting his elbow on the armrest. He was so intense, jaw clenched, staring down at the floor.

"Yea.." he said, barely raising his head to look at me. 

"Mr. Albarn.." I began as he lifted his head, barely moving his lips.

"Damon.." he mumbled in a soft, quiet voice.

"Damon… do you understand why you're here?" I questioned, trying to get a better look at him, but he only moved his head slightly towards me.

"Look, I've told you a thousand times…" His deep, tired voice was laced with frustration, I didn't want to push him anymore on the subject. 

"Listen, they're going to keep you here while the investigation is ongoing. There's a growing concern for your well-being, and I---"

"And you what?" He shot back, now looking directly at me through the long lashes that lined his blueish-green eyes. I straightened myself up as best as I could -- trying to brush off his somewhat rude response.  "And.. I believe you saw something. But right now I'm here to make sure you're ok, are you ok?" He just nodded.  “Ok, Damon, ok, just let me know if you need anything.” I said as I made my way out of the room.

------

(A week later)

Standing outside the building, leaning against the cool brick, I took a moment to take in the events that occurred over the last week.  Damon had finally taken a liking to me, or so I thought. He had this intensity about him and yet, he could be so silly and child-like. I had to admit I was very attracted to these qualities. He was so incredibly handsome, right down to the little cut on his perfect nose. The more I thought about him, the more I knew how wrong this was.

"Fuck, this is not good, Y/N, not good," I muttered as I reached for a cigarette.  

I rested my head against the wall and closed my eyes, the warm smoke filled my lungs -- I slowly exhaled trying to let my troubled thoughts go.

"You know, smoking is bad for you." There he was again, batting his box of cigarettes in his hand. Damon removed one long white stick from the box, brought it up to his lips, and began to light it. 

“Wait, how did y---” I began, but Damon interrupted.

"I like to live a little dangerously, love." He smiled, holding the cigarette between his imperfectly perfect teeth. His grin suddenly grew a little wider. “And well, maybe a little bribery goes a long way?” 

He winked and grabbed the cigarette from between his soft pink lips, to now rest between his slightly bruised fingers. I loved his hands, they were truly just as gorgeous as his face--  a little dirty, ragged, with perfectly placed veins. 

He paused, shifting his gaze from his cigarette over to me again. "Tell me, why do you always do that?" He said, cocking his head to the side.

"Do what?" I smiled softly.

"Well, the way you.. kind of, sort of -- wrap your hair around your finger when you're nervous, the way you, uh,  bite your lip when you're unsure. The way you always have to make sure your skirt is pulled down low enough, because sometimes you're just a little insecure about that scar on your leg, yeah?"  

He smiled slyly at me. I squinted my eyes at him, somewhat flattered he had been paying such close attention to me.

"I see you've been studying me, hm?"   I curled my lips into a small smile, taking another long drag of my cigarette.

"Y/N.." he exhaled as smoke covered his slightly crooked bottom row of teeth.  "You're very pretty to look at, you know?" His eyes were focused on me. I felt heat rising to my cheeks, which were probably flushed by now. 

I cleared my throat --  "Oh.. thank you. You’re pretty easy on the eyes too." was the best I could come up with. I wanted to tell him how he'd been on my mind, how I couldn't stop thinking about him--, but I couldn't bring myself to do it-- that would have been completely inappropriate. 

"Who wouldn't fancy this?" He laughed while batting his long lashes. I could tell he was only half-joking -- he knew he was absolutely gorgeous.

“You are something, Damon.” I shook my head and laughed.  “I have to head back now, ok?” I really didn’t want to break up the conversation.

“Yeah, ok.” He said.

I turned to leave when he unexpectedly grabbed my hand. My hands began to sweat, my heart began to beat fast. I looked down -- his hands were big, his fingers were so long and beautiful, I loved how his hand felt gripping mine, even for that short moment. 

"I'll be seeing you, Y/N" he said with a smile. I smiled back --  this was trouble.

---

(The next day)

I tried not to let on how much Damon had an affect on me. I had to push the feelings down and keep this professional. Damon was sitting on his bed as I approached. I took a long, deep breath--

"Ok, I need to be a real nurse today and check how you're healing." I chuckled, bringing my hand to his chin to examine him. I tried to choke down all of my feelings and simply do my job.

"So, what were you on the other days, then?" He smiled a small devious grin.

My hand just barely touched his skin, but I could start to feel a slight tightness and warmth in my stomach again. He was even more beautiful up close - those blue eyes, that perfect nose -- and a smile that just melted my heart. I must have been studying him a little too long, I could feel his eyes on me. 

Just then, Damon lifted his hand to my wrist, moving it in such a way that we were now face to face.  Everything was happening in slow motion, as I stared into his eyes. He reached out pulling me closer, leaning into me, his lips inches from mine-- his warm breath on my face 

*click* -- it was the door handle. I jumped back, breaking the tension--it was only my colleague doing rounds. 

"I, I, I should go.." I stuttered as my heart and mind were racing. Damon just smirked at me, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

"Aww..." he teased. He looked me up and down again, I shifted my eyes quickly around the room. I didn't know what to say, the whole incident had taken me by surprise.  I walked back into the hall and tried to pull myself together again. 

--

(The following day)

I had success with avoiding him for most of the day -- this gave me more time to think about how to handle whatever this was. Oh, but he was so perfect. I let out a heavy sigh -- I needed to take a break to just clear my head. I made my way to the small back stairway. The door slammed shut behind me, echoing through the empty space. As I reached the platform, I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Ahhhh what the fuck??” I yelled.

"Shh, shh, love it's only me." It was Damon reassuring me. His hair was slightly messy, poking out from the white bandage that was still wrapped tightly around his forehead. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Ugh, Damon!” I looked at him angrily, but after a few moments my face softened “Oh....... fine. I can’t stay mad at you.”

“Few people can.” he winked.

“So let me guess how you got out..hmm..let’s see...” I placed my hand on my chin --   "You know, I’m going to just take a guess that you're not used to hearing the word 'No' very often are you?" I said with a small smile, assuming that he had charmed his way out again.

"You certainly wouldn't tell me 'No' now would you?" He now made direct eye contact with me, turning more serious and intense. 

"That depends on what you're asking --- Damon."  I gave in and reached out, playfully running my finger up his arm. There I was touching him again, I couldn’t help myself. I noticed his little slightly indented tooth as he smiled at me.  He grabbed my arm and pulled me close, my breath hitched.

"What am I asking? Oh, Y/N.." his voice cracked a little bit-- his tone was so dark, deep and sexy. I could almost feel the heat radiating off of his body as he leaned in close to my ear.

 "I've seen the way you look at me, and how you shift your body.." his lips brushed my ear "..when I do this" he began to run his calloused fingers over my hand.  I felt a jolt of electricity run down my spine, these feelings were too much--  "I mean, do you really think you could tell me, 'No' now?" He smiled a smug, overconfident smile. I felt pressure building in my stomach. I pulled away and looked into his eyes again.

"Mhm, you know, this is not very….professional. “ I teased.

Damon now had a devilish smirk across his handsome face. He backed me against the railing and ran his large hand against my cheek. He slowly leaned in and kissed me. Pressing his lips to mine I opened my mouth as he pushed his tongue in. I felt a rush, and a throbbing in my core. He held his hand against my jaw and continued to explore my mouth. I brought my hands up to his jaw pulling him into me, tasting his mouth on mine. The pressure was building up inside of me but at the same time, it was a release, as if this most basic craving for him was finally being satisfied--even if only briefly. 

"Too much?" He smiled. I stood there watching him, I wanted so much more. He smirked then clicked his tongue as he walked back up the stairs. What a tease he was.  I braced myself against the railing, breathing hard. "No…. no, it wasn't too much. Oh….. shit." I muttered, unsure if he could hear me.

--

I lingered against the railing for a few minutes, taking in what had just happened.  I took a moment to catch my breath before making my way back upstairs. My entire body was aching for him. My breaths began to quicken, as I thought about his lips, his hands, his body pressing into me. 

I made my way back to the office, it was very late now, almost everyone had gone home. I went to tidy a few papers before leaving, when suddenly, as if on cue, he was at the door--

“I couldn’t stay away, and I know you didn’t want me to.” He began.

"Oh, I don't know.." I smiled.  "But, what are you bribing those nurses with, again?" I teased. 

"Well, wouldn't you like to know?" He flirted back, leaning his tall frame against the door.

"And just maybe I would....could it be you're just one of those… naughty boys?". I didn’t care to keep this professional any longer -- he had pushed me over the edge -- 

He chuckled, closing the door behind him. He walked up to me pushing my back against the desk. As I gripped the side, he began to run his fingers along my hand and slowly up my arm. I could feel my body temperature begin to rise from his movements.

"Maybe I'll just show you what a naughty boy I really am."  Oh, the way those words rolled off of his tongue -- "Y/N…. I'm not actually crazy, but you are driving me completely insane." He said.

“I kind of like crazy, Damon. I need more." I purred. My next breath was caught somewhere in my chest, I could barely breathe feeling his body pressed tightly against mine. Pressing his long fingers to the side of my neck behind my ear, he stretched his hand out just enough to run his thumb very lightly over my bottom lip.  I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing.

“Are you sure?”  He tilted my head up and began to leave a trail of small fiery wet kisses on my neck. "Like that?" My body was completely on fire now. All I could mutter was a breathy "Like that....." 

He shifted just attention back to my mouth, pushing his large tongue in so deeply. My hands slowly began to roam his sturdy, strong body. I managed to squeak out a few words as he pulled away for a moment.

"Wait--” I had a moment of clarity, before I was swallowed again by his charm. “Do you know how much trouble we would be in if we were caught right here?" I asked.

“I told you, I like to live dangerously.” he replied, grabbing my face with his hand pulling me closer to him while running his thumb over my lips again, this time smearing my lipstick all over my mouth and chin. I grabbed his hand and began to kiss and suck on his beautiful, long fingers, leaving small traces of whatever lipstick was left. He began to push his fingers in and out of my mouth, slowly at first, but then a little faster.  I could tell that he liked what I was doing to him as the bulge in his pants grew.

I grabbed his face, kissing him again, pushing my tongue back in his mouth, running it over his crooked bottom row of teeth --  I sucked at his bottom lip gently taking it between my teeth. 

He grabbed my hips with his large hands and sat me on the side of the cherry wood desk, the pressure from his fingers on my hips was almost too much for me. He brought his hand back up to my face and began to kiss me harder, slowly moving his lips to my neck as I carefully ran my hands through his hair.

My body tingled with nervous excitement as he began to unbutton my uniform, starting at the top, working his way down. His lips were back on me, slowly kissing my collar bone. I threw my head back, letting out a soft moan. I wanted him to devour me whole. 

He moved down to my chest barely grazing my skin with his teeth. He made quick work of freeing my breasts from my tight bra. Cupping my left breast he began to suck and lick at my soft sensitive skin. Running his thumb over my nipple, he brought his tongue to my right breast, slowly licking while squeezing my left. It felt so good the way he was paying attention to exactly what my body needed. I could only reply with another moan as I felt a wetness pool beneath my panties. 

He sat down in the chair and pulled me to the edge of the desk. He slowly pushed my legs apart revealing my completely soaked panties, and began to slowly rub his finger up and down over and over again. 

"Why don't you let me take care of you for a change, darling?" he said. 

“Yes.. please.. please...” I panted.

I felt him press his warm tongue against the wet fabric of my panties. Feeling his warm breath on my thigh, he began to slowly lick long wet stripes up and down my underwear. With the pressure of his tongue and the tip of his nose against the thin material that was so close to my heat, I only wanted him to remove the barrier between us and push his tongue in, but he only kept teasing me.

"Oh, Fuuckkk ...." I whispered, as I watched him continue to tease me.

He stood up and finally removed his shirt and unzipped his pants. Oh, he was so big I almost gasped at finally being able to see what he had been hiding from me. He stood against the desk and ran his long index finger along my panties but this time looping them around his finger and pulling them off. I could feel the cool air hit my wet core.

"Oh, just look at you." He hissed as he licked his left index finger and pushed it deep inside of me. His words alone were enough to push me over, but I held back. My body jerked back as he began to finger me.

"So good.." He whispered in a low voice, as he pushed a second finger in and began to pump them in and out. He muffled my moans by placing the fingers from his right hand in my mouth, while the fingers from his left hand were inside of me. I began to ride his hand hard while clutching onto the side of the desk. He rubbed my clit more and more with his thumb, pushing me closer to the edge. 

His hard cock was now directly against my wet folds as he stood between my legs, I wanted him to just finish the job so badly. He looked at me in awe, watching the pleasure across my face. I leaned forward pulling his face down to me, licking his wet lips. I lightly kissed and licked the little cuts and bruises across his beautiful face. I slowly moved my hips against his hard cock. "Mmhm," he moaned, trying to control himself as he began to buck his hips against my core.

"Fuuck, I want to be inside your tight wet cunt" he moaned.

“Please..." I begged as I thought about how incredible he would feel inside of me.

"Please what, love? Tell me what you need.". He moved his ear up to my lips. Fucking tease.

"Take Me. Fuck me…..  Ruin me." I said as I grazed his ear with my teeth, lightly pulling at his little hoop earring. 

“Ruin you?” he chuckled, pretending as if I had offended him. “I don’t know if I---.” 

Before he even finished his sentence - with one quick motion, he was deep inside of my wet, aching core. I let out a gasp as he began to thrust hard and fast, hitting my spot almost every time.

"Damooonnnn.. " I moaned. He pulled me up into a sitting position on the desk, pushing harder into me. I leaned into him, wrapping my legs tightly around him-- he began to pant and breathe heavy in my ear, while every now and then, kissing and licking at my shoulder. His eyes were dark and filled with lust, his breaths were quick and ragged.  I loved the sounds he made -  small little groans of pleasure. I gripped him, digging my nails into his burning skin, hoping to leave my mark. He looked so delicious, screwing his face up whenever I would clench myself around him as he buried his face into my neck.

"You feel..so.. incredible.." he said in between heavy breaths.  I bit my lip hard as I felt my stomach tighten again.

I felt him pull away, removing himself, causing me to let out a small whimper. His strong arms flipped me over, pushing me down, bending me over the desk. My breasts were now pressed tightly against the wooden surface.

He teased me again with his tip, running it up and down my wet folds, as he leaned forward, pressing me down, his large hands directly on top of mine, I felt a slight pressure from the weight of his body -- but I wanted to feel him so badly. I wanted to feel that force on me. He slowly began to kiss and lick my ear.

"Fuuckkk ---" was all I could get out before he slammed back into me again. I could feel his hands now gripping my shoulders, I felt him push his thumbs into my back-- hoping he would leave a mark on me, too -- I wanted to be his. Reaching his left hand over, he began to rub my clit harder and faster as he thrust into me. He was so big, and I was so wet. I could feel the edge of the desk rubbing against me, which made it harder for me to maintain control, it wasn’t going to be long. 

Damon let out a few low, sexy growls as he pushed into me -- it became too much. My orgasm hit hard.  I threw my head back as my whole body clenched and tightened. My legs went weak as I finally released all tension -- I could hardly hold myself up. Damon removed his grip and I pushed myself up from the desk. He was so gorgeous, his beautiful face was just staring right at me. 

“Oh, sweetheart, that felt good, didn’t it?” He smirked, while rubbing himself. I still wanted him, even after those intense waves of pleasure washed over me, I still really wanted him. He had such an affect on me.

“You really know what you’re doing, huh?” I managed to reply.

“I’ve had some practice.” he smirked again. “Mmm..now.. how about you help me feel good?”

I nodded. I would have done anything he asked me to. I laid back down on the desk, as he stood between my legs. I let out a few moans to try and entice him. “You are so fucking beautiful, tell me, where do you want it?”

I moved my hand to my stomach, I watched it rise and fall quickly with each breath. I was still trying to recover.  Damon began to rub himself harder. I watched as he threw his head back in pleasure. “Mpphh”. He moaned. It was so hot just watching him, knowing I was the one he wanted. His breaths became ragged as he reached the edge - suddenly his whole body jerked, as he released his warm, hot liquid on my stomach. He was breathing so hard. I was sitting up on my hands, leaning towards him. He reached out and pulled me close to his face, gently kissing my salty lips.

"That was.. everything I hoped it would be, love.” He paused.  “I just can't wait until I'm out of here."

I pulled back, looking him in the eye. "Oh..?" I said, not sure what he meant by that response. Damon could tell that I was a little concerned.

"Oh..” he chuckled. “Sweetheart, so we can do this all of the time, you know..?” His face was flushed and still slightly sweaty. He was so fucking gorgeous, I still could not believe what just happened. "I really, really want to take care of you. I want to do this properly, love. You deserve that. I want to make you feel so good. You're incredible in so many ways" he continued. “I want to be with you, if you'll have me.”

I grabbed his face, slowly running my thumb over his pink-tinged lips. His eyes were soft, he looked even more handsome, if that was even possible. 

"I would love nothing more...." I closed the space between us and brought my lips back up to his; I felt him smile. 

[theglitterypages]

Title: Sweetheart Part 2

Pairings: Armin x fem! reader

Part One

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2000+

••••••

“Fix your postures!” you commanded, your hands are on your back as you walk in front of the Cadets. Levi stood behind you with a smirk on his face, he's been a little gentle with the Cadets these days but now that you're back to kick ass with him this would be so fun.

“Kirstein! Straighten up your back!”

Jean immediately obeyed while Connie was staring at you with wide eyes, this was not how they remembered you few days ago, you were soft spoken then, all sweet and all smiles but now they are seeing the tigress that Levi was talking about.

Levi was even more gentle in handling them because Levi rarely shouts yet his words carries heavy emotions but you, you can do both.

“She's the sister of the commander that's why she has the guts but I bet she's all cry and whine if she faced a Titan.”

You have a good sense of hearing and you heard what the Cadet has said about you, it wasn't the first time that someone underestimated you because of your gender and because you're Erwin's sister, it's one of the stereotypes, you don't actually mind but what you heard next took every single strand of patience inside you.

“Bet she's a good screamer in bed.”

Levi balled his hand into a fist, he may call you brat and have endless argumentd with you but he treats you like a sister and hearing the Cadets say those filthy words to you makes his blood boil but then when he saw how you tilted your head in both sides and how your eyes went blank he already knew that you can handle it yourself, you're not a simple girl after all so he let you do what you want.

Your eyes wandered around the Cadets, you were hurt by those comments, you hated being looked down just because they think you had it easy because of your brother when in fact you almost die a lot of times in the past and those wounds from Titan attacks heals in time but those words that serves as daggers stabbing your heart won't.

After a minute of searching you found the pair that you heard, the two men were standing beside Armin Arlert, it would've been a great view if the assholes weren't standing beside him, Armin Arlert's face screams peace, those blue eyes are calming.

“I bet she's been sleeping with the Captain.”

That was the last straw, Armin immediately threw hard punches towards the two guys who are both taller, and probably a couple of years older than him, he had enough of their dirty mouths, he knew that he's not suppose to do that but he couldn't stand them talking shits about you like that, his knuckles got red because of the impact and when he looked down at the two fellow Cadets, both their nose were broken as they lay flat on the ground.

Levi was shocked to see Armin straight up punch his fellow Cadets but he secretly smiled, he knew that the kid is promising. Everybody just need a little push to unleash their demons, seems like Armin Arlert has been unleashed just now.

Eren and Mikasa immediately went beside Armin to put a hand on his shoulders trying to calm him down silently, the blonde teen was heavily breathing, “I was taught by my grandfather to treat women right, you don't talk dirty shits about them like that, respect a woman the way you respect your Mother.” Armin growled through gritted teeth, he's surprised of the damage that he had done to the two men, those broken and bleeding nose gives him some sort of satisfaction but as he tore his blue eyes away from the two, he met your eyes.

You were frozen on your position, you were planning to do punch them first but Armin's action made you stop, you see the blonde guy as a soft one, the type of person who wouldn't even dare hurt a fly but here he is proving that he knows how to throw a good punch, when your gaze met, the anger on his eyes vanished, his face softened as his cheeks turned bright red including both of his ears.

With a small smile you made your way towards them, Connie, Jean and Sasha were standing behind Armin now too, checking up on him, you've deduced that he's like the baby in the group, suits him, he does look like a baby.

You looked down at the Cadets lying on the floor and grabbed their collars so you could lift them off the ground.

Everybody gasped at your action but no one dared to interfere. “I would love to have you two on our squad next expedition but we're the one leading the whole team which means...we're the first one to encounter titans and if we're unfortunate we'll be the first ones to get eaten too. I'll show you how I cry in front of the Titans then.” you let go both of their collars and let them land butt first on the ground.

You turned to Armin and smiled at him genuinely, “I appreciate your efforts for breaking their nose for me, Cadet. Thank you.” you smiled as you pat his head, Armin looked up at you with a smile, his cheeks flaming red, “It's natural human decency, M-Ma'am. No need to thank me.” you smiled at him and pursed your lips before walking away so you could go back to the center of the scouts.

“Captain Levi would take over now.”

Levi stood beside you and the Scouts saluted at him, “Take care of some written reports for me, brat.” he ordered and you nodded as a response as you walked away from the training grounds but before you could even went further, you heard grunts and gasps behind you.

You saw how the sole of Levi's boots collided with the face of the Cadets, you winced and bit your lower lip as you see how Levi kicked them hard.

“I'll make sure you two would learn how to respect your superiors now and women in general.”

You started to feel bad because you're damn sure their jaws would be dislocated because of Levi's signature kick but you remembered that they're assholes and they deserved it so you proceeded to go on and take care of the written reports instead of watching their ass get beaten.

°°°°

It was already dark when you've decided to take a walk to try and breathe some fresh air, you looked up at the dark sky, the moon was shining brightly.

Your eyes settled on the mysterious moon, you've always been fascinated of the moon, when you were a kid you often cry to tell Erwin that the moon is a creep because it keeps on following you, your brother would always hold back his laughter and would assure you that he'll protect you from the moon.

A part of you wishes that you two should've stayed as kids then, your brother has been seeking to find out the truth and as he gets closer to that truth, you're slowly losing him. You immediately wiped a tear away, you should just be happy for your brother and make sure he'll be safe, that would be enough.

You lifted your arms towards the sky as if reaching the moon, it is beautiful yet awfully frightening but the stars cast out those fears, as the stars shine brightly in the night sky you felt at ease and you smiled to yourself before putting your hands back to your pocket. It's getting colder now.

The cold wind embraced your whole and you shivered strands of your hair escaped from your messy hair bun. When the cold was too much for you to handle, wearing thin clothes is not a wise decision so you've decided to go back inside just to hear a hissing nearby, if you're right the hissing comes from the tree nearby.

Out of curiosity you slowly made your way towards the tree, you just silently prayed that it's not Cadets that are making out outside because you've witness a pair making out behind trees before and you wouldn't want it to happen again.

But as you got closer to the tree you confirmed that it wasn't a couple doing something nasty outside, it is an angel silently sitting down.

“Aren't you suppose to be sleeping by this time now?”

Armin's eyes widened as his head snapped on your direction, his mouth gaped open as while his brows raised in surprise. "I c-can't sleep Ma'am.” he stammered and looked away from you, not that he doesn't want to see you, it's just that the thin material that you're wearing is revealing your cleavage. He had to gulp and remind himself that it's not appropriate to look at women like that.

“Mind if I sit down beside you? I couldn't sleep either.”

“I-I don't really mind.”

When your arms accidentally brushed, Armin wanted to flinch but he didn't because he wouldn't want to offend you and when you looked at him you can still see how red his cheeks were even if it's dark. “Thank you for what you did, earlier. I don't really mind such comments anymore, it wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be my last either.” you chuckled bitterly, you've worked hard to be a skilled fighter so you could prove to everyone that you're not a woman living as your brother's shadows.

But sometimes life is fucked up, actually most of the time it is fucked up.

“You should inform Commander Erwin about it. I mean they're crossing the line, they're talking as if they know you.”

“How about you, do you know me?”

“It feels like...I do.” he silently whispered as he looked down on his hands, you followed his gaze and your mout gaped open when you saw that there's a bandage covering his knuckles. “By the walls, Armin...w-what happened? You shouldn't have done it, I could've taken care of them myself.” you grabbed his hand and examined it, not that you can see through those bandages but you just feel like doing so.

Armin could've taken away his hands from you but he didn't, feeling your soft skin against his is comforting, he's forgotten that he shed a tear when Mikasa put those bandages around his knuckles, he didn't break any bone but it's red and sore, he's not really cut out for scenarios like that but it was worth it because he was able to defend you at some way, in the little way that he could.

“It's just sore. I'm not really good at punching, you know. I used to get beaten up as a kid, they'll steal my food and Eren and Mikasa would come to rescue me but now, I finally...I finally get to do something for someone.”

“Why didn't you fight back before?”

“Because I can't and I'm not as brave. You know, when I came face to face with a Titan, I—I was frozen. Eren got eaten and it was fortunate that he's alive.”

You didn't notice that you stared caressing his knuckles as you listened but it seems ljke he doesn't notice too so you let it be, “But look at you now, I've heard from Erwin that you're a smart one. You've figured out who is the female titan right?” Armin looked at you and his blue eyes widened in shock as he saw how close you two were.

He knew that in one wrong move he can finally know how would it feel to have your lips press against his, if he'll move his head forward maybe he can feel how soft those lips are.

But he stayed back, he respects you. He's attracted to you but he knows his boundaries, his grandfather told him to grow up as a gentleman and all that and he thinks of Mikasa, if Mikasa would be treated so inappropriate by a man he wouldn't like that, he wouldn't like that to happen to his sister.

That's why he would behave himself around you and he'll choose to be contented of just staring at you, it's more than enough.

“W-Well it was a gamble and I was already late...it was—”

You kissed his cheek to shut him up. The poor guy looked at you as his whole face reddened, both his ears flaming up.

“W-Why d-did you do that?” he whispered as he looked away.

“I just want to. Can you promise me one thing?” you asked as you leaned away, Armin looked at you with curiosity before he opened his mouth to respond, “It depends, make me promise something that I can fulfill.” he told you. When he promised someone, he'll always make sure that he can fulfill because he hates it when promises are broken and he wouldn't want to break any promise to anyone, especially to you.

“Each one of us has our own expertise, I want you to focus on yours and if you find yourself in a fucked up situation, don't hesitate to go to me, call out my name or somethin', I have your back now, Armin.”

“Then call out my name too if you need me.” Armin told you bravely, he doesn't have any idea why he felt this way but the moment he saw you after bumping into you, he already know that he's attracted, he told Eren about it, Eren teased him and he's not amused, not that he hates it but he's afraid that you'll hear.

He often watch you from afar, most of the times you are found with the Captain, probably why some thinks the two of you are in a relationship but as you sat beside him under the moonlight, his heart was filled of hope.

“Good night then, sweetheart.” you whispered as you gently press your lips on his cheeks again, as usual, he was frozen and you stood up to walk away so you could go back inside already.

Armin followed you with his gaze as a sweet smile made its way across his lips, his eyes sparking with glee.

“Good night, sweetheart.” he whispered.

[crowtrinkets]

A World Knowing You Aren’t in it

Prompt request from @mouselungs​ 

*forehead kiss* ty for that sweet sweet angst 

I wrote this at 1-2 am after watching a sad movie so uh yea I take my angst v seriously lol

Gender Neutral Pronouns for Apprentice, He/They Pronouns for Asra

Word Count: 2,208

I push my way into my shop, unwrapping my scarf from around my face. I take a deep slow breath of the not-so-fresh air mixed with dust and magical goods long since past their expiration. Wearing face coverings, just to go shopping in the market is necessary but I can't help but miss the days I could breathe in the fresh scents of spices and my favorite pumpkin bread without worry of getting sick.

"Asra? I'm back," I call out. I hear thumping traveling from the second floor and down the steps. A cloud of fluffy white hair pokes out from behind a curtain.

"Welcome home," he gives me a warm smile to which I return with my own.

"They were out of potatoes, something about merchants being scared of trade with Vesuvia," I follow them back up the stairs carrying my basket, sparse with groceries.

"I can't say I blame them," Asra mumbles to themself. I only hum in response, not wanting to push this topic further.

Asra has talked about leaving many times, but we had yet to do so, if we had the means we could but, there's no money in magic that can't heal a plague. Placing my basket on the counter of our kitchenette I pull out the food items I bought. Asra snatches an apple and bites into it but then grimaces.

"This apple is soft, like it's been left out," he goes to throw out the apple but I catch his arm.

"Don’t throw it out, if they're too soft I could make a cobbler or something out of them," taking the apple from Asra's hand I place it in a bowl with the other fruit I purchased.

"Oh, but they were out of sugar… maybe they're sweet enough on their own?" I mumble to myself.

"There's no need to go back out just for sugar, I'm sure we'll manage without it," Asra says with a smile that doesn't reach their eyes. They grab the lettuce I pulled from the basket out of my hand.

"Why don't I put these away while you go take a bath hmm? Wash the city air off of you," I give Asra a short nod and head off to the bathroom to wash up.

Suddenly feeling the weight of my day, running all the possible errands I can at once, so I am exposed less to the outside. I grab a towel from our tiny linen closet and pass by to give Faust chin scratches.

"Have you been bundled up here all day?" I question. She only responds by slithering closer so she can lean into my scratches. Her movement causes a blanket to fall, revealing a pile of books under it. My curiosity is piqued and I pick one up to read its cover. "Nopal Desert" it reads. I pick a map that was underneath it, depicting the better part of Vesuvia and surrounding territories. Nopal circled in ink. I hear Asra humming while he opens and closes the cabinets in the other room. I elect to bring it up after my bath.

The water is hot, almost too hot for my liking, but its burn soothes me in a way. Making me feel something other than the heavy burden that lays on the whole city's shoulders. I let myself sink down until the water cradles my head. Curling up so my whole body is submerged. I stare at the ceiling, watching the steam from the bath slowly rise, allowing condensation to sit on the wooden beams. I didn't bother to open the window so the bathroom could stay dry. I'll do that afterward. The water cups my ears, muffling the already quiet streets outside. My mind travels back to the books and maps I saw earlier. Was Asra trying to get us to leave? I explained in the past that I can't afford to pay rent on my shop and pay rent in a whole new area. Vesuvia is unsafe but the shop is my home, my lively hood. I can't give it up. I lie there, pondering and contemplating until the water has become lukewarm. My body aches after laying in the tub for far too long. After drying off my body and getting dressed I exit the bathroom, not bothering to stop my hair from dripping all over me. 

I walk towards my bed, finding the books and maps, untouched, and staring at me. I let out a frustrated sigh and collect the items.

I walk into the kitchen to find Asra nursing a cup of tea, and gazing out the window. They haven't noticed me yet. His eyes stare longingly out at the night sky. Sad and distant. I quietly approach and gently place the items on the table. Asra looks up at me in surprise. Neither one of us talks for a while. I clear my throat.

"What are these?" I motion to the map with the large black circle around the words that very obviously do not say Vesuvia. Asra places his cup down and fully faces me.

"Well I thought we could… stay there, I've heard the plague isn't present there and we could go, we could be safe and not have to worry about wearing face coverings just to go shopping," Asra's demeanor becomes meek the more he talks. I let out a sigh and collapse into the nearest chair.

"Asra I told you, I can't afford to keep my shop if I'm not here to work in it,"

"I can help you!" Asra says, straightening a little. "I-I've been painting masks to raise money, and we could go to Nopal for a few months, I could sell masks out there and you can have a makeshift shop in the desert," Asra reaches for my hand, taking it and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. I give him a tired look.

"Asra, it's not that I doubt that you couldn't help me pay, it's just… Vesuvia is my home, our home, and I can't just leave at the drop of a hat like you," Asra winces and pulls away.

"Who knew you thought so little of me," he mumbles. I mentally kick myself for my choice of words.

"I'm sorry that’s not what I meant," I bring my head into my palm and lean my elbow on the table.

"What I'm trying to say is this is my home and I want to protect it so… I've decided I want to study medicine, to help with the plague," I look up to meet Asra's eyes. Their face pales and they sit back in their chair.

"Oh," is all he manages to say. I sit up fully and bring my hands into my lap, wringing them nervously together.

"I could use my magic to help too, and I want to be able to help the people, just like I did when I had people coming by regularly for magical ailments," I try to say something, anything to get Asra to stop looking at me the way he is. Scared, confused, frustrated, maybe even a little mad. He suddenly rises, his chair squeaking along the floor as it's pushed back.

"Asra please," I say barely above a whisper. Asra walks over the kitchenette and paces before turning to me, expression full of pain.

"That… That’s a terrible idea," he says. I suddenly feel taken aback.

"What wanting to help?" I say. Asra's face twists.

"You'll get sick, you'll… You will get hurt, you won't be safe!" he exclaims, starting to pace once again.

"There are people dying Asra I can't just sit around and let it happen! I want to do something, we can do something, we're both magicians!" I rise from my chair so I can fully face Asra as he frantically paces and runs his hands through his hair.

"How are we supposed to survive then, being exposed every day?" Asra looks me in the eye, his expression one of distress.

"Asra we're barely getting by as is," I motion to the bowl of fruit that I was organizing earlier. "The food isn't fresh, we have to go shopping all in one day so we don't risk exposure, and I am barely scraping by with my rent on the shop!" I let out an exasperated huff, folding my arms.

"I told you I would help you, I can sell masks, I can do fortune-telling just not here," Asra enunciates that last word by sharply pointing to the ground to make their point.

"I want to help, Asra… I want to be here," I shift awkwardly in place looking down at my feet. A lump begins to form in my throat, making it hard to breathe. Asra approaches me and places his hands on my forearms in an attempt to soothe me.

"Please, we can't stay here, let's just leave to where it's safe," He pleads, barely above a whisper. I slowly shake my head. Asra leans into me, trying to look into my eyes. His violet eyes, specked with tears in the corners.

"Why don't I help the people here? A-and you can stay home and make money off your painted masks," I say meeting his eyes.

"No, no no no," Asra begins to speak over me. He pulls away and faces his back to me, running his hands across his face.

"Asra I can't force you to stay here but you can't force me to leave," I say making my voice stern, hoping he understands my point. Asra quickly whips around tears falling down his face.

"Then how am I supposed to protect you!" he shouts. My breath hitches and I take a step back, my calves hitting the chair I was previously sitting on. The room grows eerily silent from his out burst.

"You can't protect me from everything, especially not this," I say, my own tears threatening to fall.

"Yes, I can! If you would just listen to me and leave! We could be safe," he approaches me, hands reaching out to me. I put my own hand up, stopping him from getting closer.

"Asra, I've made up my mind about this I'm not going anywhere," my chest aches, I want to leave with him, I want to leave because I'm scared. But I know I can help these people and I can't let my fears stop me.

"Please, you'll die," his voice cracks.

"If it saves the lives of even just a few people, then maybe was worth it,"

"No, you are too important to me!" they plead.

"Asra I have made up my mind! Nothing you can say will change it!" my volume begins to rise. Asra pleads my name and approaches once again gently grabbing my hands.

"Please it will kill you,"

"Asra..." my heart pounds in my chest.

"I can't live in a world knowing you aren't in it!"

"No Asra!" tears form in my eyes and my voice starts to crack.

"You will die-"

"Then death is better than this life we are living!" I shout. I didn't mean to. But I became so overwhelmed my temper flared-up. Asra takes a step back, releasing my hands.

"Is that how you feel," he says. I can't bring myself to answer, the lump in my throat has grown 3 times in size, swallowing my voice. "Very well," Asra turns away from me. Grabbing various clothing items as he goes. He disappears around a corner and I can hear him rummaging. I take in a painful deep breath. Wiping my tears as they fall. Asra comes back in with a bag, shoving items inside angrily, my eyes are too cloudy to fully see what he's doing but I can tell.

He's packing to leave.

"Asra," I croak. "Where are you going?" my voice comes out pathetically, as I try to compose myself. But my heart races in my chest. Asra ignores my question and continues to put items in multiple bags. All his clothes, his trinkets, their books. Anything they can carry.

"Asra please," I drag my feet as I try to follow him, but I can't stop the waterfall of tears escaping me. 

Asra finally stops in the middle of the room, passing me. He has multiple bags on both shoulders. I stand at the hallway entrance and watch him. Faust quickly slithers out from behind me, Asra crouches allowing her to climb up his arm. He takes his hat off the hook and places it on his head. I stumble towards him reaching out.

"Asra I'm… I'm so-" their eyes meet mine, cold, angry, pained. I stop in my tracks

"This is the grave you made yourself, I will not be there to watch you get buried," he says. His voice cracking. Without another word, Asra turns and goes down the stairs and into my shop. 

I can only gawk in silence, in disbelief that he actually left. The wall-shaking slam of the door breaks me from my shock. I grip the fabric of my top, just over my heart. Feeling as though it has broken in two. I sink to the floor and sob, harder than I ever have because a piece of my heart has left me.

[imagineabrighterworld]

{Flowers} Midoriya x Reader

Summary// Soulmate!AU where everyone has different soulmate markers. Yours happens to be that flowers bloom where your soulmate gets injured. You just happen to be paired with the boy who breaks his bones daily.

Buds and small blossoms were the norm for you as a child. You would find yourself with little blooms on your palms or on your knees, your mother explaining that that meant your soulmate hurt themself. Maybe tripped or bumped into a table.

Your mom told you how the buds that bloomed on your cheeks meant someone was being mean.

As a teen you realize that the flowers on your body meant cruel things and cruel people.

"Hang on out there." You whisper to the flower on your shoulder, its soft petals tickling your skin. You wished you could talk to your soulmate through your skin like your mothers, how they could write on their skin and see the message on each other, or sing and hear the others voice like your uncle had with his wife. But you and your soulmate were connected by flowers.

What was going on in their life to have so many flowers? Sometimes you could feel phantom pains on your stomach as small bruise colored blossoms grew on your skin, or feel the sharp sting of a slap on your cheek the color of yellow daisies.

One day you're walking down the street when you bump into a green haired boy. You were in a good mood, lately there hadn't been new flowers on your body, which had to mean your soulmate was having a good week.

"Hi." You smile at the boy whose face immediately turns pink.

"H-Hi!" He stutters, his hand immediately going to the back of his neck. "Sorry for bumping into you, I should've been watching- not watching you! But watching out! You know- like how you walk and- and yeah.."

You chuckle. He was cute. Covered in freckles and with bright green eyes like the leaves of a tulip. "Don't worry about it." You hold out your hand and introduce yourself. "How about you?"

He shyly takes your hand. His grip is surprisingly stronger than you expected. "I'm Izuku Midoriya."

"Nice to meet you Midoriya." You smile and shake his hand firmly. "Guess I'll see you around."

"Y-Yeah." He smiles.

He smiles and for a moment the world slows to a stop.

You suck in a breath and hold onto your smile as you continue walking.

--

It's when you enter highschool that the flowers return.

You're in the middle of orientation when deep purple hellebores sprout from your finger. You flex your hand and feel the ghostly pains of a broken bone. Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you listen to the droning of your homeroom teacher.

What happened to start the cycle again? Why was your soulmate hurting? Who was hurting them?

For the first weeks of school, you're stuck with that question as you do nightly checks. Your arms were constantly covered in flowers, and if you were capable of laughing at something so serious, you would debate selling bouquets with the flowers you were growing.

--

The day of the U.A. Sports Festival you sit between your moms and listen to the pro hero Present Mic as he introduces the classes.

Your mom cheers from your left. "We’ll get to see the first years that survived the villain attack!"

Your mother on your right chuckles. "You say it like it was planned darling, they're only kids. They're probably scarred."

Your moms debate the mental health of the 1-A first years as you watch the students from your spot in the stands. The blooms were getting better and had receded, showing your soulmate had healed which allowed you to focus on the games below.

But then a new set of questions popped up.

Would your soulmate be watching too? Were they interested in the sports festival? Were they quirkless? Did they have a quirk? Did they want to be a hero? You couldn't stop the questions that flowed freely in your mind.

You lean on your palm with your elbow resting on your knee. Your face lights up with surprise as you spot a familiar face in the crowd of students from Class A.

"Hey I know that boy!" You point to Midoriya and tug on your moms sleeves. A smile forms on your face. You didn't know he was going to U.A. but then again you never asked. You didn't think to ask.

"I never got his number though."

Your mother hums. "Too bad, he's cute."

Your mom pats your back. "You can try after the games are over."

During the first and second event, you keep your eyes glued to Midoriya. He was a good strategist. Even if he hadn't shown his quirk yet, you could see how skilled he was. It was a far cry from how you met him. Stuttering and shy. He was confident now, albeit a little emotional. He felt different to you.

"You can do it!" You whisper to yourself, your hands clenched as you see him step up to begin his match. You believed in him!

"Welcome to the first match of the finals tournament!"

From above you could see the student across from him begin to speak. Obviously you couldn't catch what was being said, but you had high hopes for Midoriya!

"Ready? Begin!"

Midoriya begins to run forward, but right as he nears the middle of the platform, he freezes in place and stays there. You feel a shiver run through your body as you watch him. Why was he staying still?

"The fight has just begun and Izuku Midoriya is completely frozen!"

The other  boy’s lips start to move. Midoriya turns around and begins to walk back to his side of the ring.

No. He starts walking to get off of the platform.

“What is he doing?” Your mom mutters, “Silly boy, he's supposed to be heading the other way!”

Your mother murmurs in agreement. “Could it be his opponent’s quirk?”

You didn't quite care as you stood up from your spot and began yelling. “Come on Midoriya! You can do it! Don't give up!”

He was just a step away from the border of the platform when a giant blast of wind came from his hand. At that moment you felt the ghostly pains of your index and middle finger snap. Baby’s-breath grew from your fingers.

You look down at your hand in horror as the announcer screams over the intercom.

"What's this! Midoriya stopped just in time!"

Midoriya was an inch away from the platform, but all your focus was on the flowers that bloomed on your skin. Flowers in the same place as his injuries.

You sit back down, ignoring your mothers as they continue cheering when Midoriya goes back into action. You don't see what happens next, all you hear is that Midoriya won.

On went the battles, but your focus was on your hand and the flowers that slowly fell off as the broken fingers were healed.

When his next match came, you looked up from your stupor. He was fighting a boy who had so far sweeped his way through to the finals. A part of you wanted to cheer Midoriya on, knowing that his match would be a tough one, but the other part was reeling in horror at what would become of his body. He broke his bones using his quirk.

Day in and day out, you had seen flowers grow on you, and you never had a face to link them to.

Cuts, bruises, burns, broken bones.

All from him.

You don't watch his match, all you hear and feel is the shattering ice of his opponent and the flowers that burst from your skin in waves of color. First his fingers, then his arms.

The match ends, and you are left sitting with hydrangeas and hibiscus, poppies and peonies all littering your arms as if you were a living garden.

“Sweetie what happened?” Your mother finally asks from  beside you, or maybe you just weren't listening before. “Could your soulmate be that boy- hey!”

You stand up and push your way through the crowds, running down the line of stairs and around the stadium. The students were in seats across from you, which meant they had to have an entrance nearby.

A door lay in front of you, blocked by several Pro Heroes. You transform into a butterfly, not caring about the pain that rattled through your body at shifting into such a small creature as you fly past their watch and enter the stadium reserved for the students.

You fly past doors marked as waiting rooms until you reach the recovery center.

The door was cracked open, and inside you could see him. He was bandaged up, his body covered in scratches and bruises.

You shift back into a human and slam your flower coated fists on a nearby table.

His eyes open and he straightens up on the recovery bed, wincing in pain when he moves his arms. His eyes were dull with pain, but they had the same light in them as when you had met him for the first time.

Did that light drive him to hurt himself so much?

“You again- how did you get in here?” He sits up properly.

Your eyes are full of tears as you look at his casts.

“You.” You wipe at your eyes, spreading pollen across your face. “I've been a living garden for fifteen years and all you have to say is how did you get in here?”

You can hear the confusion in his voice as he mumbles a small “I’m sorry?”.

Summoning a claw, you pierce the side of your neck and make a thin line.

From his neck, carnations bloom from his skin at the same site of your wound.

His eyes widen in realization.

You both stay silent until you let out a breathy laugh. Now he knew. Now the cogs were turning. You were always so careful to not get hurt to keep from scaring your soulmate, but did he ever put in the same care?

“We’re soulmates..” He whispers.

“For fifteen years.” You repeat silently. “For fifteen years, I’ve had sleepless nights, knowing you were being hurt. For fifteen years you gave me flowers. Looking at flower shops were so painful because they reminded me of you. I couldn't even stand being at my uncle’s wedding because the arrangements reminded me of your pain.”

“I’m-”

You hold up your hand. “Why do you hurt yourself so much? Why go through so much pain? This quirk.. Is it so important for you to become a hero if all you get out of it is pain?”

With blurred vision and eyes stinging from tears, you look at Midoriya who had a quiet look of contemplation on his face. It takes a beat before he looks you in the eyes.

“I want to become a hero that brings a smile to people’s faces. A hero you can rely on.” His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps. “A hero you can rely on. I never meant to make you cry. I'm sorry.”

You slump down to the floor. You hear him squeak and jump down from the bed, letting out a string of “ow’s” before crouching in front of you.

“Really, I’m sorry-”

You place a hand over his mouth and give him a stern look. “Just shut up.”

“Yes ma'am.” He mumbles from behind your hand, his face obscured by the flowers on your hand.

“Ma’am?” A small laugh threatens to escape you.

“I say things when I get nervous..”

Despite the weight of the emotions you had been carrying, you finally laugh.

He leans away from your hand, a blush on his cheeks as you hold you cover your own mouth to try and tame your laughter.

“So um.. Im free Sunday. If you want to talk about how this'll work..?” He questions meekly.

You wipe your eyes and smile. “I’d like that.”

Extra//

You hang upside down from a tree as you watch Midoriya train. He had come over for dinner but as you waited for your moms to finish cooking, you both took to the outside. He had looked to your training grounds in awe and quickly pleaded with you to try out the course.

“It’s my mother’s, not mine, go ahead.” And how could you deny his bright eyes and smile? The damned thing could light an entire city.

He was nearly drenched in sweat by the time he stopped his run through of the course and his small session of shadow boxing. He wipes away his sweat with the back of his hand and sits down under the tree where you hung like a bat.

“Nice huh?”

“Yeah. What does your mother do to have a space like this?”

“She's a hero. But she patrols the west region. She comes back every few weeks to visit us.”

He bonks you on the head as he looks up in amazement. “She's the Transformation Hero Mystique?!”

You quirk a brow. “Bingo. How'd you get that?”

“Lucky guess.” He mumbles sheepishly. 

“You saw her hero costume didn’t you.” You ask bluntly.

He fiddles with his scarred fingers. “I may have taken a detour when I went to the bathroom..”

You turn your head and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Silly boy.”

[songbirdsingingthings]

This request (if it's still an option) might be a little odd and will admittedly stay more feminine, but if i may?

Might i request a small shoto x reader story where the reader is a practicing witch? It's something i personally am into and i think it would be fun to read. Imagine shoto learning about spell candles, crystals charging positive energy, tarot cards, that stuff, because the person he likes uses them a lot.

It might be a touch vague, plot wise, but from west I've read it's sure to be something you can make amazing. Thank you very much. (Anonymous because this is my first time ever requesting something like this and I'm way to shy about it.)

Intuition - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Fluff, Swearing (It’s Bakugou, so, that’s kinda a given)

Requested by Anonymous:

A/N: Hi!!! I am so sorry that this took me freaking AGES to write. In between trying to research and find reputable sources to learn from about what you requested and dealing with school stuff (honestly, my teachers just think that all of my free time should be filled with school work smh) I finally FINALLY finished! I really hope you enjoyed, and I really found it interesting learning about all these things! <3

Word Count: 1.5K

“Y/N, may I ask you a question?” Shouto’s smooth voice cut through to your senses, rousing you from the book you currently had your nose in. Sitting just inches away from you was the red-and-white haired boy, the textbook he had been consulting now bookmarked and set next to him. With a raise of your eyebrow in curiosity, you marked your page and nodded.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, leaning a bit closer to him. Shouto, being your boyfriend for now 2 months and comfortable with touch, wrapped a light arm around your waist.

“I was just curious about your choice of decor for your dorm, it’s quite unique.” A knowing smile graced your lips as your gaze left his handsome face and flitted around your dorm. On top of shelves, all over your desk, and even on the balcony windowsill you had, crystals and candles dotted the room. A smile graced your lips as you saw Shouto’s eyes on the various beloved items.

“I guess you can say it’s unique,” You start to say, standing from your spot on the floor and going over to your desk and taking your favorite crystal into your hand. It was a simple clear quartz cluster but it’s been with you the longest. You motion for Shouto to stand up next to you so he could see it more clearly. “This one is a clear quartz,” you explain as he bends down so that his eyes are eye-level with the crystal.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, his gaze transfixed on the quartz. With a laugh, you carefully place it back down on your desk.

“Well, it’s not all just a pretty face. It’s actually charged with a lot of healing energy, so it’s provided some real tranquility in my life.” Shouto’s eyes narrow in confusion, looking back up to yours.

“You’re not telling me that this crystal has a quirk, do you?” He asks, genuinely perplexed. With a bark of laughter, you shake your head.

“No, no, it doesn’t have a quirk. I’ve just been charging the crystal myself.” Still sensing some bewilderment from your boyfriend, you grab a few different items - the quartz, a spell candle from your windowsill, and a pack of tarot cards from your desk - and lead him over to your bed to sit down. “A lot of the things I have in my room have a more… spiritual side to them. Basically with things like crystals, I charge them with positive energies. I do this by cleansing them and then emanating positive thoughts, intentions, or words to the crystals themselves.” Shouto nods, seemingly understanding that concept.

“Are the candles and cards similar?” He wonders. 

“Well, they’re all similar in the way that they’re part of witchcraft. People who are practicing witches usually have some, if not all, of these things and probably a lot more. I’m kind of in the low-key part of witchcraft since I don’t really cast spells or am part of a coven or anything, but I really enjoy it.” You gush, causing Shouto’s cheeks to heat up a bit. He’s always loved seeing you so passionate about things whether it be in classes or during hero training, but your passion here was on a whole other level.

“Interesting,” he says, “so what purpose do the candles serve?” His interested tone causes a giddy smile to flicker across your face, sending you into ‘explanation mode’.

“The candles are actually pretty cool. Like the crystals, it’s recommended that you cleanse and charge them in order for them to work. I usually buy these from that crystal store on mainstreet, and this one is one of my favorites! It’s actually one for my zodiac sign,” you tell him, holding the glass holder up in front of him so that he could read the label. 

“And the cards?” He asks, leaning over to view the pack of cards.

“Oh! Those are tarot cards.” “I’m assuming they are pretty different from regular cards?” He asks, a little smirk on his face.

“You would be right in assuming that, yes,” you say, giggling while sliding the deck out of its container. You give the deck a few shuffles. “They can help to gain insight on peoples’ futures by drawing cards that represent your past, present, and your future.” Shouto’s eyes widened.

“They can tell your future?” He exclaims, a little wary but also excited about the prospect of it.

“Yeah, you want me to give you a reading?” 

“Yes!” Shouto says quickly. Your heart warms at his enthusiasm as you let your shuffling come to a stop. Spreading the cards out in your hand, you hold them face down in front of your boyfriend.

“Okay, pick three.” You say simply, yet Shouto still hesitates.

“Is there a strategy for picking them?” He asks.

“Just go on your intuition. Pick what your heart tells you to.” You murmur. Shouto nods slowly and lets his fingers hover over the cards. He lets his fingers dangle for only a minute before picking his three cards and setting them on your bed covers. With a satisfied smile, you straighten up the rest of the cards, set them aside, and turn your attention to the three he picked. You turn them over one by one. His first card, representing his past, is The Tower. The second card, representing his present, is the Death card. And finally, representing his future, he picked the The World card. As Shouto’s eyes rake over his cards, they settle and widen comically at the middle card.

“Uh, oh no, Y/N I picked death.” He said, his breathing becoming a little shallow at his sudden spurt of panic.

“That’s okay Sho, just let me give you your reading, yeah?” You soothe, urging him to calm down. With a hesitant nod, he settles down a bit. “Okay! So for your first card, you chose The Tower. Now this card represents sudden upheaval, broken pride, and disaster. Think back to your past whether it be just yesterday or years beforehand. I know you had a tough childhood and growing up was never easy for you,” you say, trying to empathize with Shouto. He nods acceptingly, having already acknowledged his past.

“Yes, this card makes sense.” He simply says. Your gaze focuses next on the middle card - Death.

“I know this card can look a little scary, but I promise it’s not.” You say, trying to gently ease Shouto into the idea that his current present is represented by death. “The Death card represents the end of a cycle, new beginnings, and metamorphosis. Think and turn your consciousness to your thoughts right now. Think about how much you have changed from your past, and find solace in the end of that cycle and the beginning of a new one.” Shouto closes his eyes and unconsciously begins to smile, causing your own to shine brighter.

“That is a comforting thought. I never thought I could find relief from a card that says death on it.” He remarks, opening his eyes back up to yours. You could tell he was eager to hear about his last card - his future.

“And your final card is The World. I’m not being biased or anything, I promise you I’m not, but this is one of my favorite cards.” You admit, earning a sparkle to show in your boyfriend's eyes. “The World card represents fulfillment, harmony, and completion. Try and imagine your future. This completion and fulfillment could come in the form of many things whether it be your career, your friendships-”

“A romantic relationship?” He asks, his cheeks now burning with red. You feel yourself begin to fluster and the silly smile across your face causes you to look at your hands.

“Yes, this card could potentially apply to a romantic relationship.” You murmur softly. You busy yourself with cleaning up the cards and putting them back in their container, still flushed with the thought of Shouto hoping for harmony within your relationship. However, your thoughts are put to a halt when Shouto has a soft hand beneath your chin, gently angling your head so that your eyes meet his.

“I like the thought of a fulfilling relationship with you.” He confesses, his doe eyes causing you to melt.

“I, uh, Shouto the card might not be referring to that though.” You stammer, your eyes flicking in between his and his lips.

“You said that I should go on intuition beforehand, yes?” He asks, wanting you to confirm. When you nod your head, his smile turns into a smirk. “Well then my intuition tells me that the card is referring to us.” And in one fluid motion, his lips are on yours. Like always, they’re soft, slow, and sensual… and you can never get enough of them. With one hand going up to play with his hair and the other one wrapping around his neck, you press yourself closer to him as he kisses you more feverishly. 

“Thanks for my reading,” he says breathlessly, each word in between kisses. You yourself are breathless as well, sinking into his embrace like puddy.

“Anytime.”