#should i write. a fixed spelling somewhere???

[specialshinytrinkets]

[ID: a quote retweet screenshot. The initial tweet is by futchimus prime/@/fempyr, which reads:

being mutuals w ur fav artists is so strange like damn i love ur work michelangelo what did u have for dinner today

The quote retweet is by 👁/@/bruteeyes, which reads:

being mutuals w ur fav fic writers like wow i've read all your works shakespeare also thank u for telling me ur tummy hurts

/endID]

me @ my mutuals

[sortagaysortahigh]

Operation Exemies to Lovers | Cregan Stark

A/N: Now yall know i have not written and finished a fic in a hot minute so sorry if this reads a bit wonky. Yk I'm an enemies to lovers and exes to lovers girl, so why not combine them both into a modern!cregan stark fic? Also, this is dialogue heavy as that's kind of my thing, if it's not yours, welpt keep scrolling boo I aint mad!. I also fixed the inc*st family tree so you'll see that in this as well (i'll prob keep it for future modern AUs). Anyways lmk what you think and enjoy! Also, I suck at summaries so I pull quotes from my fics, sorry not sorry pookies

Summary: “So y’know those sappy novels Hel’s always reading, anyways I asked her about them and she had one where the two main characters were like totally at ends with each other but their friends were like ‘nah they should be smashing’ so we think, based on our research and our scholarly source-Helaena, we should force them to be around each other until they finally talk it out! Or well, y’know-f*ck it out”

Warnings: cussing, spelling and grammar errors (sue me!), kissing, mentions of smut/allusions to smut but no smut, arguing, Alyssane Blackwood slander (sorry girl), somewhat mean!reader, this is an AU where Aegon's not a bad guy!!!! just a clown <3, mentions of an ill parent, Baela be hitting Aegon (he earned it!), Aemond is still missing an eye sorry to the Aemond girls

Word Count: 6.4k (period I stuck to keeping it short and sweet)

Modern!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader

“He’s staring at you again” you scoffed, rolling your eyes, doing your best to focus on highlighting the passages about the few Westerosi Civil Wars that had happened centuries ago. It was already difficult enough to focus in the crowded library, midterms were killing everyone. 

It wasn’t a shock for the once quiet and almost empty library to be packed, especially with student athletes who were desperately catching up on their studies in attempts to pass all of their midterms, write endless essays, and practically beg their professors for extra credit via email. 

You should’ve been able to focus on the task at hand, studying with your best friends Baela and Rhaena for your upcoming history midterm, the exam itself would focus heavily on the several majors wars that shaped westerosi society as a whole, and would even include the transition from government leadership as a monarchy into a democracy. 

Hell you’d even have to describe what was once known as the ‘Iron Throne’ and its historical significance. Truthfully the large metal hunk of junk was now sitting in the King’s Landing Red Keep Memorial Museum.

Usually the library was the easiest place for the three of you to study, it wasn’t as loud as your fourth floor flat in one of the student apartment buildings off campus, it was usually pretty clean and well kept, plus every resource you could possibly need was somewhere within the large building. 

However today, your usually comfortable red leather-lined chair felt stiff and was making you hot, not to mention the lack of air flow and increased temperature due to the amount of body heat on each floor, then the lights were either too bright or too dim, and all you wanted to do was slam the books shut, grab your laptop and leave.

“Let him stare.” you muttered as you tried to keep your gaze on the text in front of you, however it was getting increasingly difficult as a very specific pair of eyes were practically burning a hole into your side. 

Gods, he was so obnoxious.

“I don’t think it’s healthy for you to hold onto the grudge against him, of course he totally earned it! I’m not downplaying your emotions but anytime he’s around you stiffen up like a virgin afraid of dick” your jaw dropped at Baela’s words, now staring at her, brows furrowed in shock.

“Baela! You can’t say things like that” Rhaena almost immediately swatted at her sister’s arm, shaking her head before tucking one of her loose locks behind her ear. “You really take after father sometimes.” 

Baela simply shrugged, glancing back at the two tables that were usually empty, now they were filled with six of the school’s hockey players, all spread apart with a plethora of books, laptops, pens, and notepads covering the tables. That’s also not counting all of their bags laying on the floor besides their chairs. 

“I get that you two broke up on not so good terms, but you should be showing him that you don’t care about him! Not that he makes you so angry you’re about to explode like a bomb in Mario Party”.

With that Baela turned her gaze back to her laptop, however at the sound of several texts chiming in at once to both Baela and Rhaena’s phones, you knew that their cousins had texted them once again. It made sense that they’d all shared a group chat, especially considering how close in age they were, and how large the Targaryen/Hightower/Velaryon family was. 

Of course the first time Baela had broken down their family tree you were incredibly confused. Her mother Laena Velaryon was married to Daemon Targaryen, who happened to be the uncle to her cousins Jace, Luke, and Joffrey’s mother Rhaenyra. 

Now, Rhaenyra was married to Dr. Strong (or just Harwin as he’d asked you to call him once at a family gathering you’d been invited to, to which you quickly declined as he was your Literature professor), but based on the Targaryen’s political status within Westeros, their sons took their mother’s last name, not their father. 

Then comes Aegon and Aemond, now truthfully you’d met Aegon your second week of classes a few years ago when he’d caught you off guard, asked for your number, then got mad when you’d ghosted him after finding out he had a girlfriend! (Shame on him, truly). But you actually ended up being pretty good friends with the goof. 

Anyways, Aegon and Aemond were the children of Rhaenyra’s best friend, and now sister-in-law Alicent Hightower who married Rhaenyra’s only brother Baelon Targaryen. 

It’s also important to remember that throughout this entire family tree, which was in fact drawn out on construction paper for you, Alicent and Baelon also had two other children, Daeron and Halaena, both of them attending Sunspear University together. Then of course Rhaenyra and Dr.Strong (Harwin), have two much smaller sons, Aegon and Viserys, which was even more confusing considering you’d already met an Aegon.

Rhaena and Baela shared a look, and it was a look that worried you, so of course instead of being rational and brushing it off, you clenched your jaw as you slowly turned around, making eye contact with none other than your ex-boyfriend who’d been leaning his head against his hand and staring at you with what could only be described as a mournful lovesick expression.

You rolled your eyes, quickly turning back around before anyone else would look at you and do something that would probably piss you off. 

It also didn’t help that the cousins texting Baela and Rhaena were also seated at the table with your ex boyfriend. 

“Jace said that Cregan wants to talk to you but you blocked him, I don’t think you want to know what Aegon said, but it involved an eggplant emoji and a bed” you rolled your eyes, letting out a deep sigh while sitting up straight and shaking your head.

“He’s apologized a million times and has yet to tell me why he decided to go out of his way to not only break things off with me and tell me he still loved me in the same damn sentence, then go out the same night and end up on Aegon-Aegon of all people’s instagram story sucking face with that Blackwood bitch while she was on his lap.” 

You let out a cynical laugh of sorts, rolling your eyes once again. 

“Tell Cregan Stark that I’d rather fuck Aegon after one of his alley-way vomit sprees than ever talk to him again” however, before you could focus back on your studies, an amused laugh came from behind you before the chair next to you was pulled out, only for you to meet the gaze of Aegon Targaryen himself, a lopsided smile on his face with his brows wiggling in a playful suggestive manner.

“Well if I knew the easiest way to get you into my bed was to go drinking until I’m sick then I would’ve invited you out sooner baby” with that he leaned closer while making kissing noises, only to be met with your hand shoving his face away.

“Aeg, for the last time, she doesn’t want you like that” he feigned hurt at Rhaena, sliding back into the chair with his hand over his heart. 

“You wound me dear cousin! You wound me!” then he sat up straight, now looking back at you “so I was sent over here as a trusted messenger. My boy back there, you know him quite well, if y’know what I mean-” he wiggled his eyebrows up and down again, then you shoved him “-anyways, Cregan has been like all sulky and heartbroken and he really misses you. And he doesn’t want anything to do with Alysanne! She came onto him!, so can you give him another shot?”

With that you simply shook your head, quickly packing your things up while scoffing. 

“Tell your “boy back there”-” you spoke with air quotations “-that if he really gave a fuck about me, he shouldn’t have dumped me after two years for no god damn reason, then fucked that Blackwood bitch-who by the way is a fucking whore!” 

Your outburst was met with the looks of many, Rhaena quickly clearing her throat watching as you packed your things away. “What she means to say is, she doesn’t want to talk to him. I think it’s too fresh still”

Aegon scoffed “it’s been four months people! Four months! The summer ended, it’s a new semester, I think she can talk to him now” he glanced around the table, eyes widening as he watched Baela grasp quite the hefty textbook while glaring at him.

“Baela don’t hit me! I’m just saying! Listen-” but before he could finish you’d already gotten up and mumbled that you’d see them at home while you walked away.

Aegon paused, watching as you walked away, blatantly checking you out for a few moments, then you’d disappeared. He then turned around and motioned for someone to come to the table, this is what led both Jace and Luke to walk across the room and now sit where you were sitting and in the last empty seat of the table.

“Listen, we’re all tired of being caught in the middle of this awkward divorce alright. So we came up with a plan!” Baela shook her head while Rhaena sighed slightly.

“No offense Aeg, but your plans are always horrible, need I remind you of Aemond’s missing eyeball?” Luke winced slightly, remembering the day he’d accidentally hit Aemond in the eye with a firewood poker when swinging it behind him.

Truthfully, Luke had no idea Aemond had entered the room when he and Aegon were ‘dueling’ one another, however he’d felt his poker hit something, and he heard Aemond’s loud scream of pain. 

They’d all been kids when that happened, and to make it worse it occurred on their grandfather’s birthday when everyone had traveled to King’s Landing for a large birthday dinner/family holiday.

“She’s got a point there Aegon, but-guys-we all came up with the idea together!” Luke placed his hands on the shoulder of his cousin and his brother, smiling widely while Baela and Rhaena both shook their heads in disappointment.

“Okay, you win, but if the idea is bad, Baela’s going to smack Aegon with that textbook, so pray it’s not bad” they all nodded, Aegon scooting back slightly.

“So y’know those sappy novels Hel’s always reading, anyways I asked her about them and she had one where the two main characters were like totally at ends with each other but their friends were like ‘nah they should be smashing’ so we think, based on our research and our scholarly source-Helaena, we should force them to be around each other until they finally talk it out! Or well, y’know-fuck it out”

He paused to take a quick breath “But we can’t let them in on the plan, otherwise Cregan’s gonna be all like ‘oh my god no she hates me, the love of my life hates me I can’t torture her, blah blah blah, I’m so nice and honorable, blah blah’ and she’s gonna be like ‘fuck that, I’ll kill him for fucking that Blackwood bitch and dumping me for no god damn reason’. Also I don’t think he ever fucked Alysanne-but I did-niether here nor there though!” 

Jace and Luke looked at Baela and Rhaena as if they were waiting to be yelled at by their mother, meanwhile Aegon smiled and nodded after his long winded explanation.

Rhaena spoke first “y’know honestly, your impression of her is pretty spot on.” Baela nodded her head in agreement before adding in “but if this doesn’t work, and she finds out, she’ll want to kill all of you and Cregan. I’m sure you all have realized being on her shit list isn’t exactly the best”

Jace nodded, glancing back at Cregan who was finally focusing on his statistics work with a stoic expression on his face. “Listen, if it doesn’t work and she kicks our asses that’s fine, but we at least have to try! I mean come on Rhae you told me that she cries over him still! And he’s no better. There might not be tears but he’s so long winded and mopey”

He then sighed, patting Luke on the back “I think this is our best shot. I mean c’mon they’re some of your guys' closest friends, and Winterfell over there’s my best friend that I’m not related to-oddly enough they’re pretty rare these days. They used to be so happy together! Now look at them both”

Baela sighed, nodding her head as she finally set the books in her hands down “she’s definitely not really herself anymore. Maybe if it doesn’t work, then at least they’ll both get closure from their relationship”.

Aegon smiled, nodding rapidly again “see! You guys get it!. Also don’t tell Aemond either, y’know he’s too ‘I’ve got a stick up my ass’ sometimes. We can call it operation-uh what’s the book trope that Helaena called it again-one second everyone!” he paused, grabbing his phone from his pocket before quickly calling his sister.

“Hey Hel, yeah yeah I’m good, what did you call that book again! The one where they were like forced to be around eachother then fuck it out and get married and shit?” 

Several hundred miles away, Helaena was grasping her nose bridge as she let out a deep sigh, her brother truly was a character.

“Oh-okay! Got it-thanks so much Hel, love you too! Give Daeron my love and remind him to wrap it up with those Dornish baddies!” with that he hung up the phone before meeting Baela’s disgusted glare.

“You’re so gross, Aeg. And stop saying the word baddies-you sound so cringey!” he simply shrugged at her.

“Anyways, now that we’re done being rude and judgemental to our baddie eldest cousin who’s super smart, funny, and beautiful, we’ll call it operation enemies to lovers!” 

Rhaena raised a brow “wouldn’t it actually be exes to lovers? Since they’re exes? I guess they might also be enemies based on the way she wants to wring his neck-and not how she used to-” with that her eyes widened as she slapped a hand over her mouth.

Jace sighed “don’t worry Rhae, we already know about the shit he let her do to him. Young love, what can I say” 

Aegon nodded his head, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively once again, then he slightly elbowed Luke, who met his gaze with a laugh before they both spoke in unison “kinky innit”.

“Anyways-are we doing this or not? I’ve got a history midterm to study for and you three are interrupting it, and it’s bad enough that Aegon already made the smartest person we know leave” It was clear that Baela was losing her patience.

“Oh come on Bales! Y’know if you’re still interested I can set you up with ol Benji over there, heard he’s a freak in the she-” there it was, the book smacking him in the face “-ow Baela! Jesus! You’re just like your dad! Mean and ever so beautiful to look at” he winked.

“Gross man, she’s our cousin!” he shrugged “didn’t stop our ancestors, okay fine-fine! I didn’t mean it okay! Shit. you all are so violent. The blood of the dragon I guess”.

-

Three days have passed and the TarVelTower group chat had been in constant communication about ‘operation exemies to lovers’ with the additional confused replies from those that were not present in the library that day.

They were planning a game night, it was something they’d all done in the past, inviting their other friends to come along as well for drinks and a night of utter tomfoolery. Baela and Rhaena had done everything but swear on the Old Gods themselves that Cregan wouldn’t be there, meanwhile Jace, Luke, and Aegon had to practically beg Cregan to come to Jace’s for the game night.

It was also a plus that most of them lived in the same building. Dragonstone University wasn’t that large, not compared to other schools such as Sunspear, Driftmark, or even Harrenhall-although it was rumored that Harrenhal U was in fact haunted, that’s probably what brought so many to the school in the first place.

Baela and Rhaena had to drag you out of your bed after your post-class nap and usher you into the shower, stating that you ‘stunk of outside’, which was rather rude considering your only classes today were virtual. 

They’d mentioned the game night several times, and each time you asked if Cregan would be there, they’d said no, which you found a bit odd considering Jace was literally his best friend and probably closest confidant. Maybe his father had come down from Winterfell again, but you were thankful that he wouldn’t be present to ruin your mood.

All you had to do was take the elevator up two floors, so all you did was shower and throw on a pair of sweats and one of Aegon’s many discarded team sweatshirts. It had his number on it and even after washing it what felt like a million times, it still smelled like his overly strong cologne that he claimed ‘the ladies love’.

He’d also told you that maybe you were an ogre for not loving it, which of course even further solidified your friendship with the moron (lovingly).

You took time to braid your hair, knowing that you’d probably wake up hungover without a want or a need to brush it, so this was just easier. Then you’d foregone makeup, knowing you truly didn’t care how people saw you, especially not your friends. 

Of course the one thing you’d always contemplated wearing sat on your desk, the thin gold chain adorned with a small charm in the shape of a howling wolf. It was as if it sat mocking you because almost everyday you’d stare at it while getting ready.

You’d worn it everyday for a year after Cregan gifted it to you. He randomly showed up at your door one day, slightly out of breath, a wide smile on his face with his disheveled hair pulled back. One hand rubbed against his short beard, while the other held a small black gift bag. He looked as if he’d run here, then was contemplating the decision to run in the first place.

Then he’d kissed you gently, a smile you rarely wore now, adorned your face then.

When you invited him in, he was quick to follow, shutting and locking your door behind him while you made your way to the small kitchen, grabbing him something to drink as he caught his breath.

Then as you spun around to hand him the drink, he held the bag out for you, practically forcing you to open it (it wasn’t forceful at all, rather when you declined opening it immediately, he didn’t hesitate to place the strings of the bag between his teeth before picking you up, then plopping you down onto the couch, soft giggles leaving your lips when he climbed right on top of you.).

You remembered him watching as you opened it, he held himself up overtop you, while you easily pulled the small jewelry box out of the packaging, then when you opened it he looked almost nervous, as if you wouldn’t like it.

But you’d kissed him, pulling him down into your lips, thanking him between rushed kisses. 

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it before grasping the necklace and shoving it into one of your desk drawers. Out of sight, out of mind, you’d tell yourself-until you’d go looking for a pen and see it again.

Rhaena’s voice knocked you out of your thoughts completely, she stood in your doorframe, her posture a little too straight, which would’ve normally thrown you off, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when you were trying to shake off the feeling of heartbreak.

“You ready? I’ve got the snacks already packed to bring up, you’ve just got to grab our blankets. Baela’s already there helping set up. Aeg said he’d give her twenty bucks if she’d actually arrive earlier than him for once” you laughed at that, shaking your head slightly.

It was no secret that Aegon and Baela were incredibly competitive, and as cousins, they had what could only be described as a sibling rivalry, always trying to one up one another when they could, and making stupid bets over random things.

You actually liked that they were all so close, when you’d befriended Rhaena, you never thought that she and her sister would come with a large family that would welcome you in with open arms.

“Yeah, just, let me-um-get my shoes, yeah my shoes. Sorry” you were mumbling and stuttering as you walked to the shoe rack beside your door, slipping your feet into your fuzzy slippers before following Rhaena to the living room, grasping the small pile of throw blankets before the both of you left your apartment. She was quick to lock the door, then you both headed upstairs.

You were still technically early when you arrived, and as you entered the apartment Aegon was handing Baela a $20 bill, while she smirked. Luke was laying on one of the couches on his phone, Jace was putting drinks in the fridge with the help of Benji who honestly looked happy to be there. Meanwhile Aemond sat reading whatever random philosophical book he’d chosen for the week, and to your surprise, Helaena was pulling what smelled like cookies out of the oven.

“Hel! You’re here!” she smiled when she saw you, placing the tray down before meeting your embrace. “Yea, I actually was visiting my parents and Aegon picked me up earlier.” you smiled at that, you enjoyed her company, even if it was a rare occurrence. 

By the time everyone was settled in, around forty-five minutes had passed, and everything was nice. For the first time in a while you weren’t on edge, which was definitely noticeable, and you’d actually managed to relax into the large bean bag below you. Even if it did remind you of a certain someone.

Then, it was as if you’d summoned the asshole himself.

Jace was quick to shoot up and walk to the door, glancing at his phone nervously. Then he opened the door, nervously laughing for a few moments.

Then you spotted him. Not before Aegon, who was already tipsy, had managed to shoot up from his spot on the ground “Cregan! Glad you could make it man!”.

Baela and Rhaena watched as you let out a deep sigh, it was clear you didn’t want to ruin the night, so you simply turned to face away from the door, burying yourself further into the bean bag, covering yourself in the throw blanket as much as you could.

It’s important to mention that the bean bag happened to be big enough for two people, and for a long time, it’s where you would sit with Cregan, well technically, given his size, you’d be cuddled up together, and now, as his gaze found you ignoring him on that bean bag, the gloomy cloud that followed him around had resurfaced.’

After a few tense moments of silence, everyone commenced what they were doing.

Aegon, still standing, held up a deck of cards.

“For today’s game night we’re gonna need to partner up! Rhaena, you’re with me tonight! I need your smarticle particles!” you blinked slowly, Rhaena was usually your partner. Then you sat in silence as you watched everyone partner up.

Baela was shoved into Benji-literally shoved by Aegon. 

Aemond chose Luke as he stated their team needed “balance”, which actually made a lot of sense considering Aemond was always somewhat brooding, and Luke was a ray of sunshine.

Jace glanced between Helaena and Cregan, but when Baela shot him a pointed look-missed completely by you-he chose Helaena.

Which of course left you with the one person you wanted nothing to do with.

Rhaena tried breaking the ice, watching as Cregan awkwardly sat in the armchair beside the beanbag. “It looks like our old winning team is back together!” you were the first to scoff.

“Hey! They used to cheat!” you couldn’t stop yourself from responding to Aegon “actually he waited until we broke up for that”. As you spoke, everyone’s eyes widened, meanwhile you remained in your spot, staring at your phone, mindlessly scrolling through instagram.

However, as good of a guy that Cregan Stark is, you were the only person that was ever able to bring a different side out of him. You two rarely fought, but when you did, it was almost catastrophic and usually ended in very rough sex, or a heartwarming apology after ignoring one another for a few days. 

But you’d never broken up, you both took time to cool off in whatever way you needed.

Things are different now.

“For the last time, she came onto me! I’ve told you this thousands of times!” As he raised his voice, the frustration in his tone was evident, and his accent sounded thicker than usual-a key indicator that he was upset. So instead of backing down, you scoffed, now looking at him, fury evident on your features. 

“Yeah because a man your fucking size was so easily overpowered by her right! She just waltzed right up to you and beat you into submission or something?! Oh fuck you Cregan!” 

The two of you held eye contact, anger and frustration evident.

Aegon slowly sat down, leaning towards Jace and whispering “I think it’s working”, meanwhile Jace shook his head, having been witness to the few fights that you’d actually had with Cregan in the past.

“What would you have wanted me to do, I was shitfaced! Was I supposed to shove her to the ground and tell her to go fuck herself?!” you nodded your head at that, now sitting up, even closer to him than before. He stared down at you as you stared up at him.

“Yeah actually, that’s the best fucking idea I’d say you’ve ever had!” he scoffed.

“We weren’t even together and you hold that against me! Still!” That's what sent you over the edge.

“You fucking dumped me for no god damn reason, told me you loved me, and then went and fucked that Blackwood Bitch! The same fucking day! As if I meant nothing to you, we were together for two years Cregan! Two fucking years!” 

He heard the crack in your voice, everyone did. As you stared at him, he could see the way your eyes glossed over, he knew you too well. He knew the tears were coming.

“I tried to talk to you-you didn’t wanna hear anything!” you shrugged, gathering your things as fast as you possibly could, now looking anywhere but him.

“You don’t fucking deserve to talk to me you asshole”. Then you stood up and did what you always do in these situations, you ran away and left.

He was left there in shock, staring at the door, jaw clenched while he watched you leave. 

“Well that’s one way to start a game night” 

“Aegon shut up!” cue the smack “Ow! Baela! Stop hitting me! Go hit Benji, he likes that shit!-ow! Seriously?! Jace and Luke, get your cousin!”

Then in unison “she’s your cousin too!”

And finally, Benji piped up “is she talking about my cousin?” 

Instead of watching you waltz away, Cregan stood up, grabbing his things and mumbling his own apologies. Then he left, he knew exactly where you lived, so instead of taking the elevator, he rushed down the stairs, trying to cool off. 

When he stood in front of your door, it felt like a routine, something his body was so used to. As if this was muscle memory for him.

Then he knocked, once. No response. 

Twice. Nothing. 

Three times-maybe third times a charm. Nothing.

He stood there, his forehead leaned against the door. Cregan Stark was not a man of regrets, hell he prided himself on actually being a good guy, he was raised to be respectful, to be kind, to be strong, Stark men were not assholes. They weren’t childish, they weren’t selfish, they were supposed to be honorable in every way.

But here he is, leaning against his ex-girlfriend’s door, still in love with her, full of regret for ever breaking things off. He hadn’t even explained himself. He wanted to-he’d tried that day, but you stormed out, tears that he’d caused flowing down your cheeks. 

Then he felt the door shift, and you stood there, wrapped in the same blanket, eyes red as you stared up at him.

Gods, all he wanted to do was tell you he loved you, that he needed you, that you made him feel whole.

“I don’t have any fight left in me Cregan. It’s been months, why can’t you just leave me alone.” 

“Because I love you.” you sighed, shaking your head “no you don’t. If you loved me you wouldn’t have left me.” 

Sure you might’ve been being dramatic, but truthfully, you’d been heartbroken for months, following your breakup you’d lost ten pounds in two weeks. You’d never felt worse, and now, you were starting to feel alright, but it was no secret that there had been many nights full of tears, hugging a sweatshirt that you’d never washed, hoping to preserve the smell of his cologne.

“Can you just fucking listen to me for five minutes, please, I’ve been trying to talk to you for so long, just please-let me talk to you” you shrugged.

“Why?” he blinked a few times, taking a deep breath, running a hand through his hair-hair that you used to always touch, forcing him to sit between your thighs while you braid his hair, laughing when he’d complain, or when he’d do poses for you after you’d finished.

“I love you, I’ve never stopped loving you, I go to sleep at night and my dreams are filled with you, your smile, your laugh, even your fucking frowns. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. My heart fucking yearns for you. I can still feel the way you used to hold me, the way your breath felt against my neck, Gods, I think about you 24/7! I think about everything that I did, the way that I screwed up-I screwed us up. I love you! I’ll scream it from the fucking rooftops if that’s what you want!” 

You didn’t bother wiping away your tears, instead you stepped aside, leaving room for him to come in.

“You want to talk then talk.”

Then he walked inside, and shut the door the same way he used to. 

It truly was muscle memory, the way he walked to the couch and sat down in the same spot he was always in, then he waited for you.

He watched as you slowly sat next to him, still wrapped in a blanket like a sad burrito-Gods he spent too much time around Aegon. He didn’t hesitate to wipe the tears from under one of your eyes with his thumb, repeating the action on the other cheek.

“I didn’t want to break up with you. I never wanted to break up with you. My father’s-well he’s sick at home, I was going to leave, go back to Winterfell to take care of him, to take care of everyone. I just-I didn’t want you to be alone here, and I didn’t want to be your long distance boyfriend that you only ever see on fucking facetime. I just-I couldn’t do it.” 

You were silent, watching as he broke slightly, his voice cracking at the mention of his father, then at the mention of you being alone. 

It was no secret that Cregan and his father were close, you’d met Rickon Stark twice, and each time he’d embraced you with open arms and a warm heart. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he shrugged.

“Because, I’m supposed to be strong, I’m supposed to know my duty to my family, I’m supposed to be there for them, and it was hard-hard to say that I had to leave you for an unknown amount of time. I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to go a day without seeing you, you make me crazy in the best way, even now, whenever I see you on campus my heart practically flies out of my chest. Seeing you at my games, you’re like a ghost haunting me.” 

You slowly nodded, listening to him, watching the way he’d blink away his tears, the way his brows would furrow and jaw would clench slightly. 

“My dad’s the one who told me to stay. Told me not to throw my future away, that he’d be alright, y’know he’s a fighter-always has been. Told me to get my girl back-” he let out a small chuckle, the laugh laced in sadness “-but I think she doesn’t want me back. I went back up after we split up, just for a week, and he told me I was an idiot to leave it all behind. A full ride to Uni if I kept playing hockey? The girl of my dreams? Called me a bloke before he told me that he’s okay, he’s not letting go anytime soon” 

Cregan hadn’t been looking at you, he was focused on his hands, fists clenching slightly as he tried to swallow his own emotions. He hadn’t noticed the way that you’d been inching closer, not until your arms were wrapped around him, head leaning against his shoulder.

“You could’ve just told me from the beginning. I would’ve been your facetime girlfriend y’know? Would’ve figured out a way up there”

The familiarity of it all was what made him break, a small sob leaving his lips while you held him. It didn’t take long for you to shove him further into the couch and climb into his lap, the same way you used to when all you wanted to do was be as close to him as possible.

You held him, sat atop one of his thighs, arms wrapped around his shoulders while he cried into your shoulder. His arms gripping your waist, holding you against him. 

This is what should’ve happened all those months ago.

“I’m sorry for being a bitch” he laughed at that, and you felt his small smile. Meanwhile you ran a hand through his hair, fingers dancing through the dark locks before slowly running against his scalp. Your other hand traced small circles against his shoulder blade, you missed this.

You missed him.

“You weren’t a bitch-I probably deserved that.” you scoffed, moving back slightly, now holding eye contact with him as you brushed his tears away. “I was a bitch, I was the biggest bitch ever.”

He smiled, shaking his head “She really did come onto me. I did push her off-” you shushed him “I know. I believe you, I just-I dunno. I was hurt, then I saw that and it just stayed with me. I figured you dumped me for someone else, someone better-” he cut you off with a kiss.

It was so gentle, so soft, so sweet. Then he pulled away “there’s no one better than you for me. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest. I just-I didn’t want to look weak and I didn’t want to leave you and-” you shushed him again, this time holding a hand against his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up Cregan Stark.” Your tone was light hearted as you shook your head “You’re not weak for having emotions, and you aren’t weak for wanting to care for those that you love. Don’t be stupid, we’ve both been stupid enough.” he nodded his head, then you slid her hand down, now caressing his face, your thumb lightly pulling on his bottom lip.

“I missed you” you smiled, a small giggle leaving your lips.

“Based on the way you stare, I could tell” he rolled his eyes “gotta commit your beauty to memory somehow” you slightly shoved his shoulder “you cornball!” 

“I missed you too loverboy”

Then you kissed him again, a slow, passionate kiss full of emotions, smiles, and even a few giggles. He then slid his hands under your sweatshirt, and you quickly pulled apart, letting him take it off, leaving you in just your bralette, then his lips were on yours again.

Before anything else could happen the front door swung open, startling you both, leading to Cregan’s grip against you tightening, meanwhile Aegon and Jace both hit the floor, while Luke stood there awkwardly, Rhaena shook her head, and Baela looked as if she was being held back by Benji. Meanwhile Helaena and Aemond were nowhere to be seen.

At least until they moved closer to the doorway, both of them shaking their heads and muttering “fucking Aegon” in unison.

“I told you guys it would work! Look at them! Kissing and close!” Aegon still spoke, even from the floor while Jace was on top of him. Then Jace slowly rolled off, letting out an ‘oof’. 

“Were you all eavesdropping?” Aegon blinked a few times at your question, glancing back at everyone else. Then you noticed the flush on Luke’s face and Rhaena’s awkward expression. Plus Jace was nodding his head. 

“Why did the Gods make him our brother?” Aemond shook his head “I truly do not know.” 

“So are you two back together now?” 

You sighed, standing up and grasping Cregan’s hand, pulling him towards your bedroom.

Cregan glanced back, still laughing at the scene “yes. Now please, fuck off mate”

With that you pulled him into your room and locked the door.

“They’re all the worst” he nodded his head at you, he’d expected you to pull him into your bed, however you walked towards your desk, rummaging through the different drawers until you found something. 

You glanced at him “can you help me with this”, while holding up the necklace.

“I’d be honored” you rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face while he walked over, taking the necklace then as gently as possible, clasping it around your neck. Then he left a line of open mouthed kisses from below your right ear, to the edge of your shoulder. 

“I love you” his voice was soft, a whisper, almost as if it was a secret shared between the both of you.

You smiled, spinning around, one hand now on his face, the other on the back of his neck, fingers tracing circles through his hair. “I love you too”

-

Taglist:

Girl it dont exist LMAO

[lcriedlastnight]

Exes to lovers with Oscar: “what can i do? how can i fix this?”

idk how good i am at writing angsty stuff but here’s hoping i do you proud anon, lovely!

tw: fem!reader, not spell checked or proof read (cba bro it’s almost 4am), angsty (idk i tried), swears, lmk if you want to add anything else.

w/c: 2.3k

you hadn’t seen oscar in almost a month. the breakup was not the amicable, it was all oscar’s idea. not to play the name game or anything.

he was the one who ended things a month ago. your lives were just ‘too different’ right now and you were going in ‘different directions’. he was the one who had made sure he left no trace of himself in your apartment. he was the one you cried about when it got late and you felt lonely. most importantly, he was the one who acted like nothing had even happened.

people were commenting on your instagram posts and stories constantly asking where oscar was. it felt like getting kicked while you were already down. you stopped posting altogether after that.

it took you this whole month even be able to live your life again, before you were just existing. lando was the one to pull you up by your bootstraps and help you get your life back on track.

“i hate seeing you like this!” the brunette had begged you, a few weeks before, to go out clubbing with him and george.

“it’s just not my scene, lan. you know that. i’d rather just lay in bed all day and listen to the saddest songs on the tortured poets department.” you told him from somewhere between your messy bedsheets.

lando sighed and sat on the side of your bed. “c’mon! laying here crying about it will do nothing.” you knew he was right but it would do too much to his ego if you told him so, plus you also wanted to rot in this hurt for a little while longer.

“maybe next time.” you had offered. both of you knew you were lying.

the time came when lando finally made you face your problems head on, when he made you join him the monaco grand prix. with promises of not having to stay in a hotel and his company (you didn’t know if either of those things was something you wanted right now) the whole weekend, you eventually agreed. whether you agree just to shut him up or because you knew you would run into oscar… well it was a tie.

you lay tossing and turning in the guest room of lando’s, you couldn’t sleep for thinking about the man who has haunted your dreams for the past month and graced them for a year and a half before that. you decided to give up on getting sleep for now, turning onto your side you plan in your mind how you wanted the next day to play out. you were unsure if you should go for making him jealous of making him feel bad for you, eye bags and depression written all over your face or dolled up to the nines. in the end you decided on making him jealous. what good would looking gross at one of the most high profile races of the year - in front of your ex, no less - do you? you eventually fall asleep planning your outfits in your head.

the next morning you woke up with plenty of time to get ready, giving yourself plenty of time to get ready. lando, being your best friend, had the privilege of getting up at the arse crack of dawn, just as the light started to shine through his curtains, to ‘get ready with you’ as you had put it. he would put it as ‘you getting ready and him watching until you were almost done, then getting ready himself’. same thing basically.

“put that one taylor swift song on i know.” lando asks from his bed as you sit in front of his floor length mirror. you make eye contact from the floor.

“which one is that? she has like a million?” you question, you obviously being in charge of the music. lando groans as he turns onto his front, his groan becoming muffled by the bedsheets. you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

“i’m just gonna put folklore on then.” you tell him, picking up your phone from beside you where it was currently charging. lando near enough leaps from the bed at your words.

“no! that album is depressing! that’s not today’s vibe!” his hands reaching for your phone.

“what is the vibe for today then?” you ask, going back to blending out your light eyeshadow.

you can sense what lando is going to say before it even comes out of his mouth. “reputation.”

the start of ‘this is why we can’t have nice things’ plays through the speakers your phone is connected to in his room. you really try to hold off from telling him that reputation has more love songs on it than he thinks but you can’t help yourself. lando is surprised at the news and asks what album has the most repuatuation vibes.

you sigh. “i made a playlist. just play that.”

once you had finished your makeup, lando starts to get ready as you fish out the outfit you had planned out in your head last night out of your bag. you knew it had to be good, seeing as this was the first time in a month that oscar will see you.

a month wasn’t really that long, you both had been apart longer when you couldn’t make it to races and he had shit to do in training, but this separation was different. it was permanent and because of that it felt like years since you had seen oscar. double that, the last time you spoke to him.

“y’ready then?” lando asks, grabbing his car keys. you follow behind, your sundress swaying with the movements of your legs as you grab your clutch bag, filled with random items you knew you probably were never going to touch for the rest of the day. you nod, slipping on your heels and head to the car, right behind lando.

arriving at the paddock didn’t feel as weird as you thought it would. the flashes from the cameras almost blind you both as you walk in together. most reporters asking if you had cheated on oscar with the tanned brit.

as usual you ignore them and strut harbouring a false sense of confidence as you walk side by side with lando.

you stick to lando’s side of the garage during qualifying. some of oscar’s engineers notice you and give you a wave, not wanting to be rude you wave back. you watch q3 nervously, a part of you- way deep in the back of your brain - wishes for oscar to well and it’s looking like he could even get pole for the first ever time in a proper f1 race. his qualifying last grand prix weekend had really impressed you (not that you were watching him or anything. you were only watching to support lando) but had also made you think that oscar had made the right decision with your breakup.

as you watch on during the final few minutes of q3 you feel a camera pan on your face from the corner of you eye. you pretend not to notice, scared incase on the screen it still calls you oscar’s partner. not that you would know, but if you forget about the camera then you’ll most likely forget about it all as a whole.

lando qualifies fourth. oscar second. a great weekend for mclaren. a podium basically already in the bag for the, usually, papaya team. as both cars make their way back to the garage, you stand off to the side, waiting on lando.

the boy in the fluorescent helmet jumps out of the car and almost sprints to the opposite end of the garage, to oscar’s side, eager to congratulate him. you watch as the boy takes off his helmet and balaclava to wrap the australian up in a friendly hug. the latter not even getting the chance to take his own helmet or balaclava off before the arms of his friend wrap around him.

you just watch from afar, wanting so badly to be the one feeding oscar words of praise and excitement about the race tomorrow. you see them both converse as you try to act like your not staring, suddenly remembering the cameras lingering around. lando finally peels himself away and makes his way back to you. oscar’s eyes follow him to you. you don’t know if he’s surprised to see you or not. not like you even care anyways.

“well done lan!” you cheer, maybe a bit too loud than normal. your arms wrapping around his fireproofs in a tight hug, copying his own actions to his teammate minutes before. you hoped oscar was watching on.

“thanks bro!” lando laughs in your ear, happily as his results were improving every race. you also laugh at his choice of words.

“bro?” you ask through a giggle. the giggle drawing the attention of oscar again, who had tried to forget about your presence but felt like he was getting harshly reminded of the grave mistake he had made.

“you’re my bro” is all the explanation he gives. it’s not like he’s lying to be fair, you were his bro. he lets go of his hold on you then talks about his plans for tomorrow night.

“is it not a bit too early to be thinking about tomorrow after the race already?” you ask him, as if you’re not used to this at the end of every saturday.

“i should be at the club” he shrugs as he drags you to his race room. directly next to oscar’s. you know this hallway like the back of your hand.

you hear oscar’s footsteps behind you and lando as he tells you every thought he had during the flying laps. you trying so hard to listen but all you can think about it how much you want to turn around to oscar and bag him to take you back. but you’re not doing that. that would, well that would just be a new low for you.

“i just knew osc would be quick, didn’t think he would be quicker than me. he’ll probably be on the podium tomorrow.” lando comments, offhandedly. both your’s and oscar’s ears prick up at the mention of oscar’s name.

oscar strains his ears as you stop just in front of lando’s door. he tries to keep a safe distance, not wanting to alert you both of him.

“yeah?” is all you say. lando snorts.

“you could at least act like you care.” lando says as he opens the door to let you both in. that’s when you both hear the heavy, quick footsteps of oscar rushing to you before you enter lando’s driver room.

���hey-uh can i talk to you?” oscar directs to you, eyes not even trying to shift in lando’s direction. you hesitate. why was he acting like he hasn’t just broken up with you.

“please?” oscar practically begs. lando gives you an encouraging nudge before disappearing into his room, leaving you no choice but to stand in the hallway with oscar.

it’s quiet before you speak up, words a little uneasy and shaky. “what could you possibly have to say to me?” you question him.

“please don’t be like this. i can’t do it.” oscar’s voice is weak and almost pathetic. you scoff at his words.

“you’re being serious? where was this when you broke up with me?” you seethe, feeling your anger build. oscar looks hurt but you see a glint of something you can’t decipher in his eye and it makes you miss him even more, you can’t stand this.

“what can i do? how can i fix this? fix us?” oscar looks down at you with wide eyes. you swear they look glassy, like if he blinks too hard tears he’s so clearly fighting will slide down his cheeks.

“fix us?” you ask, confused. “you want to fix this?”.

oscar nods eagerly, gathering your hands in his and pressing them against his chest. “i can’t bare this without you. i’m so stupid for thinking that breaking up was the right thing to do. i miss you in everything i do. all i could think about out there was if you were still mines how i could go celebrate this with you. i don’t know if i remember how to live without you, baby.”

you only stare at him. your face betraying you by showing oscar every little feeling that flashes through your mind.

“it’s been like this since miami. you should’ve been there. i’m sorry. i’ve ruined this for you. and i know this is me being selfish but i need you to come back to me.” the grip oscar has on your hands get a little tighter as he begs you to forgive him.

you feel your bottom lip wobble a little before you pull your lips in a tight line to pull yourself together. “i miss you too. but you hurt me.” you say, cautious and wary.

oscar makes this pained noise like he’s been winded as your words hit him. “i know and i’m so fucking sorry. what can i do to make it up to you? i’ll do anything i swear.” oscar was clearly not above begging for you to his again.

you think for a second, eyes avoiding his and instead looking down at the floor. seeing as oscar can read you like a book he knows what’s coming next. you’re gonna reject him in a way he knows only you could and cry too, because you will feel bad, you’ll feel bad for the monster who broke your heart. how could he even think he would have a chance at getting you back?

you surprise him by speaking up softly. “maybe a trial date?” you suggest. oscar’s head nearly falls off from how quickly he nods. never agreeing to something so quickly before in his life. he’s going to make this the best date you’ve ever been on in your life.

[pigeonp0st]

Lena Luthor x Reader #3

Summary: Lena breaks up with Reader to keep her safe from Lex. Reader hatches a plan to get rid of him that goes terribly wrong, and naturally, torture follows. This mostly takes place after she’s found again.

Warnings:

Angst,torture, depression, trauma, childhood trauma

Notes:

Hey! I’m going about writing differently now. Everything I write from here on out will most likely be straight from the tumblr drafts and fairly quick. Something I decide to do in a random sitting (unless it’s paid for). Fair warning that this isn’t that, this is just something I worked on ages ago and didn’t publish. I did NO SPELLING CHECKS and remember writing at 2am, so warning number 2

———————

Lena loathed the DEO in that moment. She loathed Alex, and she loathed Supergirl , and she loathed every damn agent in the building so that she didn’t have to loathe herself instead. It’s not enough, there was still a small part of her that she couldn’t ignore, a part of her that screamed; ‘you should have held on. You should have been there’

She knows she should have been there. She knows she failed you before anyone else did. She knows. But she’s trying now and she doesn’t know how to get it to matter to the world. Trying won’t save you, and trying hasn’t led you back to her.

Trying has only led you there, far from Lena, laying somewhere unknown with a body and a heart too worn. Though, Lena imagines, that’s probably not a new feeling for you. She trembles with the image of Lex mocking her on video, holding a gun to your head, she trembles and thinks, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.

Then, miraculously;

“Found her!” Winn shouts loudly, raising his Supergirl action figure in victory, and Lena, CEO, multibillionaire, crumbles in relief in front of dozens of agents in the middle of the DEO.

—-

When you wake up Lena feels her heart stop.

She wanted to kiss you, hold you. She wanted to be the type of person that stayed. She wanted to be the type of person worth staying for.

She wanted to believe the both of you would be okay, and she wanted to hold your face and tell you that. That you’d be okay. She wanted more than anything in that moment to be the type of person that said the right thing. That did the right thing.

She wasn’t. She wasn’t any of the people she wanted to be. Your eyes met hers, full of sorrow, and human and hurt, and she wasn’t. She wasn’t because she was scared, and because she was human also. She wasn’t—so she leaves.

Now, as she’s gripping herself in the hallways of the DEO, struggling against the weight of what feels like worlds on her shoudlers, choking on breaths that should have been being shared with you, she’s filled with so much self contempt it could fuel the whole government. Whoever said that “It’s better to have loved and loss, than to have never loved at all”, has never met the two of you and has never loved this desperately.

Loving you made her feel just as much as losing you had, and is it worth it? Maybe, but It’s certainly not better to be feeling this than not ever feeling it. Can’t those things coexist? Can’t it be better for her to never love, but can’t loving also be a choice she’d make despite all the pain?

Can’t you love the things that will destroy us in the end? Doesn’t she always?

She should go back in. She should go back in and ask for forgiveness, but the fear of ruining things further, of the both of you hurting each other further, prevents her from trying to fix things.

When she broke up with you she had just wanted to protect you from Lex. Losing you like that would have nothing compared to—

Lena shivers, shakes her head, and clutches onto herself more tightly with trembling fingers.

“You’re hyperventilating,” Alex says from where she’s leaning against the wall beside Lena. Her eyes are watchful, careful, but Lena feels them like daggers.

She straightens, forces out a; “wow, you really are an amazing analyzer, detective,” and nearly gets a smirk for her troubles—but Alex is too soft, too caring to give her that. She moves towards her, ever the big sister, but Supergirl rushes in first.

“Lena,” Supergirl—Kara, Kara, Lena thinks, and often starts to forget, except when Kara looks at her like this—breathes out.

Lena steps back from them both, the humanity in the room tears her apart, reminds her of her lack of, and destroys her. “You have to…to warn people when you do that…super speed thing,” Lena grits out, cutting Kara off before she can even begin to try and be…be good. She gestures towards the room with shaky hands and begins to try and compose herself lHow long was she awake while I was asleep?”

Kara and Alex look at each other. Say nothing. “Guys—”

“She woke up two hours ago,” Alex says, at the same time Kara says; “you were wiped out—didn’t even hear the nurses, of course we couldn’t just wake you up”

Two hours, and she was asleep. Lena goes cold instantly. She remembers hearing Lex had you, remembers it like one remembers the worst moment of their life; both intimately and not at all. She remembers hearing Supergirl had you—that you were breathing , but people only say that when someone is very not okay, and Lena remembers the way adrenaline had rushed through her. She had felt both alive and utterly useless through it, and it sticks to her even now.

Alive, but asleep, never the person she needs to be to protect you. How alone have you felt because of her? How scared?

“Lena,” Kara starts again, “Lena, she wanted you to sleep— ”

“Go in there,” Alex cuts her off, gets a very annoyed look for it, because they both can’t seem to help cutting each other off today. “You want to show her she’s not alone, that she’s safe? I promise you that the only way she’ll feel that is with you there.”

Kara nods, suddenly straightening and transforming into Supergirl just like that, just in the stance. “Hero complexes will serve nothing except separation and loneliness. You taught me that. Stronger together, Lena.”

Wanting to save you had left you alone, and yes, alone to Lena meant away from Lex, but he’s not the only scary thing in this world, and she should have known that he’d never forget how to destroy her. To leave you alone, Lena thinks, was the worst thing she could have done.

While you were away Lena had to confront herself. Had to realize that so far, every good thing in her life has come with a cost, has led to ruin, and the threat of Lex…it had just seemed to her like the time had come. Like it was her only option. To sacrifice, to sacrifice and hurt.

If Lex had won by separating the two of you, then he had one like that. In her mind, Lena had already been destroyed, of course she imagined that to be the end of it, that he wouldn’t touch you. She’d rather hurt by pushing you away than you dying. Even the thought—

God, she’s so tired of being a coward. To being so scared of losing you that she’s willing to destroy you both.

Kara and Alex hating what she’s done in the unspoken way that they do hurts even more in a way Lena’s used to, because it hurts like regret. Their stances have turned from concerned and loving, to protective heroes. She should have never left you alone. Not when she was scared of Lex, and not now. She gives both Kara and Alex a firm nod and tries to walk past to get into the room. To make things right.

Kara stops her with a hand on her shoulder. She drops it instantly when Lena turns towards her. Ever the fragile hero, always afraid of her own hands for the strength they hold. “Before that…” Kara coughs awkwardly, “Um…we need you to understand her injuries…and what happened.”

—-

When Lena walks into the room, it’s not like you thought she would. She’s not the fragile human curled up in a chair, or the terrified women fleeing your medical room. She’s angry with rage and a whirlwind of feelings, caught in a tornado of emotion. She’s large in the way she’s always been, and yet it has never left you feeling so small.

You sink back into your hospital bed, pull the covers to your chin, and watch her.

“You went after him?” Lena hisses out, so lowly, so sharply, that she might as well have cut the words into your skin for the way that it dig into you. “Everything I’ve ever done is to protect you, and you just decided to throw it all away like it means nothing? Do you have any idea—”

“You were protecting yourself!”

Lena stops. She was pacing, shaking with emotion, but she stops dead in her tracks at the sound of your voice. You yell it, and yet it’s still somehow silent. Your throat is ruined, a testament to the cruelty of Lex, and the evidence of that and more is written on your skin. You’re covered in injuries. Your brokenness has never been more visible, you think, and it should leave you feeling fragile, and it does, god it does, but right now it gives you power.

Power over Lena, who looks at you like her life hangs in the palm of her hand.

“You think I’m stupid, that I don’t know that every fiber of your being is laced with fear?” You whisper now, hand on your throbbing throat. “You left me for you, and I went after Lex for me.” Its venom. Venom, and anger, and all of the thing you know Lena takes In stride. The thing she strives on.

It hangs in the air for a second. Then Lena, beautiful Lena, kneels by the side of your bed. CEO, one of the most powerful people in this city; on her knees for you. She doesn’t look invigorated, doesn’t looked fueled by anger, just looks sad with regrets.

“I did it for me,” Lena agrees, so soft, so not like them; not like her family. “I did it for you, too. Of course I did it for you, and maybe it was a terrible thing to do—led by my trauma talking to me—but don’t lay there and deny I wasn’t thinking of you,” she breathes, then pauses, eyes tracing your busted lips, bruised face, bruised neck. Her jaw trembles and her lips part, she looks as if she wants to say more, but her eyes are haunted by the home she grew up in.

As if reading your mind Lena whispers, “they haunt me. It’s as if I can never let go. I’m so sick of it. I’m so sick of it.” She closes her eyes with furrowed brows, as if not looking at you will prevent the shake in her voice. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. For them. For them now, for them back then, and for them in the future—if you still want to be in my life, you have to know I can’t escape them. Even when they’re not there they’re there. It…god, it makes me sick.”

When Lena raises her hands and grips herself, digging her fingers into her skin like she wants to pull the trauma and memories out of herself, like she wants to get rid of them, something in you breaks. Breaks because your arms are raw and aching, and it wasn’t Lex. Breaks because you know so intimately what it’s like to face reality and find it so frustratingly unchangeable. To want so much, and for it to mean nothing is the most devastating thing.

To be so large, and so small.

You’ve been crying, and Lena doesn’t notices until a sob falls from your lips. You’ve been trying to hold it in, but when she startles up at it and looks at you with that same wanting, like you’re her heart walking and she’d give anything to take your hurt, the sobs break through like a dam. They break through and it hurts because there is no part of you left unbroken.

When you sob it disturbs your broken ribs, disturbs the bruises covering your torso, rips at your tarnished vocal cords, and has the machines in the room beeping so loud it alerts the nurses.

—-

Lena doesn’t even have time to stand before the nurses rush in and pull the blanket off of you. There’s no words to describe the shift that happens in side of her when she sees the extent of your injuries.

It’s like something both breaks and rebuilds in her, and then breaks again, paralyzing her. Then, she sees a nurse heading towards you with a syringe and it activates her.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Lena says, or thinks she says. She can’t recognize the venom in her voice, doesn’t feel apart of her body.

She’s moving in between the nurse and you, but your sobs begin to bring her back to reality.

“She needs to be put under, she’s hurting herself—”

Lena doesn’t pay attention to her, just sees Alex and Supergirl enter the room. Sees the way Alex shakes her head and nods to the corner of the room, and follows in suit while every fiber of her being says to do otherwise.

It kills her that she can’t protect you. Can’t protect you from the nurses that you try to pull away from, can’t protect you from the hurt on your skin, or in your heart, couldn’t protect you from— she thinks of Lex. Lex when he was her big, smart older brother that she admired more than anyone in the world.

She thinks of the way he’d give her a cheeky roll of his eyes behind Lillian’s back after a small verbal lashing. Thinks of every chess game, every hide n seek game, every reassuring grin. You’re smarter than they know Lena, he’d say, and she’d beam, not noticing the progressive darkness in his eyes as he said it.

Her eyes don’t leave you as the nurses put you down again. She thinks; I’ll kill him. In her peripheral she knows Kara is watching the floor, and feels Alex watching her. When the nurses cover you back up and they both turn towards you, Lena knows it was out of respect for you. She’s grateful for it—somewhere in her thunder of emotions she’s thankful for them, but also feels a bit of anger towards them.

This is why they kept her from seeing you when you were brought in?

“Why doesn’t she have a hospital gown?” Lena asks in a whisper.

“She took it off, said it hurt when the nurses moved it, and that it was sticking to her. Constricting her,” Kara explains, she sighs, shakes her head, and then turns towards Lena as Supergirl. With a fire in her eyes.

The same one in Lena as she allows herself to ask the very question she wanted to run from hours ago. “Where’s Lex?”

“No.” It’s both Supergirl and Alex.

“Alive then? Okay,” Lena starts towards the door. “If you’re here, he’s here. I’ll find him easily enough.”

Supergirl, familiarly, stands in her ways. Eyes sympathetic next to Alex’s hardness. “Where are you when you’re with them?” Alex asks from behind her. When you let them guide every bad decision you make, she hears.

Lena stops. Thinks about control, about gods, about leaving you to wake up alone again, thinks about murder, both in her blood and not, thinks about Lex with a gun to your head, with fists, and kicks, and a maniac smile, thinks about her dad in the same way—standing over Lex while Lillian gripped Lena back. She thinks of cycles, thinks of protection and all the ways it’s possible, all the ways she’s capable, more capable then him.

Smarter, Lena remembers Lillian saying casually. Always smarter than.

Better than, Kara will say.

The good one, Alex will joke.

My hero, you’d grin. Lena feels herself split. Starts forward again.

Kara whispers now, “Heroes don’t kill, Lena.”

Alex, “it’s both the best and most terrible thing about us.”

Us.

Lena wants to yell, wants to crumble, wants to curl by your side, wants to kill Lex with her bare hands, wants to erase the Luthor history from her mind, from her body, wants to erase it from yours even more. Wants it so desperately, so acutely it hurts. Sadness fills the room, suffocates them all.

Kara is watching you again, Alex keeps glancing back, they’re both unconcerned about Lena now. Full faith in her to be who they claim she is. Lena returns to the seat by your bed and allows herself to be that person.

“Whatever cell he’s in, I’m building it,” Lena whispers, thinking of the cuffs she’ll put on him, wondering if she can somehow slow down his mind.

Alex nods, running her hands down her face. The past couple hours have completely exhausted her in a way Lena’s not used to seeing from her. Alex cares so much about you, and it shouldn’t surprise Lena but It does. “We’re thinking about sending him to the phantom zone.”

Here, Lena is more surprised. They must know that’s a death sentence. Lena glances at Supergirl, she’s still watching you but she’s clearly listening, her eyes have turned hard. They aren’t underestimating Lex. They clearly know the responsibility that’ll bear on them if he escapes again.

Lena feels another bought of gratitude towards them as she takes your hand, and trusts them to handle the person she trusts no one to handle.

——

When you wake up the second time it’s because nurses are dapping you with wet cloths, clearly trying to clean you. They apologize profusely, say they thought the drugs would keep you down longer, and offer to finish the cleaning after you’ve gotten more pain killers.

Your eyes dart around rapidly, chest constricting in anxiety, and then you see Lena. She’s standing by the door, clearly trying to keep out of the nurses way. She’s not full of rage and untouchable in that way, and she’s not fragile, she’s strong.

Her eyes are hard, but not cold. They’re determined, and loving, and they’re your strength too. You suck in a shaky breath, whisper; “thank you. Later might be an option”, as you try to focus on Lena and not the thought of the nurses hands on you turning into Lex’s violent ones.

When they all shuffle out Lena quietly returns to the spot by your bed. This Lena somehow makes you feel more fragile than angry, furious Lena had, because in the place of your defensiveness you’re left to feel your guilt.

“I’m…I’m not weak, Lena.” It feels stupid to claim now as you lay in a hospital bed feeling nothing but. You clench your jaw. Lena’s hand reaches up and takes your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. She’s not gentle, certainly not rough, but her firmness gives you the power to continue. She’s the stable ground that helps you find your footing.

You find it. Meet her gaze unblinking. “I’m not Supergirl, I’m not you, I’m not Alex, or Jon, or Winn, or James, or Kelly, or— or Lex…I’m not capable in the particular ways you guys are, but I am capable.”

Lena’s eyes fall to your throat. You grip her wrist, the one holding your face, and her eyes meet yours apologetically. “I know,” she says, so softly, so quietly. “You being here is the evidence of it, isn’t it?”

You nod, but you aren’t done. “I’m not sure what Supergirl told you. Clearly she told you I went after Lex, and in a way that’s true, but more so I wanted him to come after me,” you pause. Lena is watching you with furrowed eyes, clearly trying to piece together what you’re explaining before you finish.

Her lips part after just another moment. She’s figured it out you realize, feeling a bit of pride because of it. Pride because she has faith in you, pride because she‘s so incredibly quick and you have had the privilege to know her so acutely. “All of this…was your plan?” Lena asks, sounding both shocked and not.

You wince, brushing aside her hand so you can look down, adverting your gaze. “Well…not all of it.” Memories flash through your mind. “I thought he’d keep me captive, not…” you left out a frustrated breath, angry, so angry at yourself for not being able to speak about it. Speak about him.

“It was a game to him, of course. He’d torture me, send you a video to torture you. He’d get you chasing him. He’s always liked the thrill.” Your eyes stay on Lena’s fists. Watch as they clench so tightly to her side that they shake. “I knew he loved messing with you, and was partly counting on it, not like that but— but maybe just having me wouldn’t have been enough, maybe it was good he did what he did—got so high off of it his guard lowered.”

“Don’t say that,” Lena pleads. You startle up at the sound of her trembling voice doing everything not to cry.

You breathe in; your ribs hurt. You breathe out; they hurt again. Lena shakes her head at herself, frustrated and biting her lip. She’s having a battle with composure and losing.

“Kara told me how you stole his nanotech and used it to immobilize him. That the tech that was missing from my lab last week was found with the stuff he confiscated from you. That you hacked his computer with my prototype to send her the location to his headquarters underground,” Lena rushes out, “I didn’t know you planned to get taken to his HQ, to steal his nanotech, didn’t know that anyone besides me and the DEO knew what he was working on.”

It’s a quick summary of the things you’ve done, leaving out the weeks of planning, leaving out the struggles of actually setting the plan in motion when the shifting variables shifted in a way you weren’t prepared for. It should leave you proud, but when you think of what you managed all you remember is pain and struggle.

“You stopped Lex like you planned. So many people are saved because of you. An unfathomable amount, and yet,”she says. And yet, you think, heart fluttering because you know Lena will say the very thought that kills you to think of, but the thought that can’t escape you anyways. “What…what you did was monumental, and thank you, but god, I so wish you hadn’t,” Lena breathes. “He gone, and yet he has never been so present. Perhaps you felt the effects of him through me before, but you know now what it’s like to have him really present, always right over your shoulder, and that…I would’ve given the world for otherwise.”

It’s exactly the same thoughts you have had. To hear it from Lena, someone you admire and trust so much, someone you believe to be good with every piece of you, someone you’d follow everywhere—it’s like a medicine for guilt.

“What I said before…about doing what I did for me,” Lena shakes her head, ever understanding, like she doesn’t need you to finish. You do though. “I did it for me because I wanted desperately for you to still be mine, and getting rid of Lex was the avenue for that,” you admit. “I didn’t want him to plague you anymore either.”

You hesitate. Memories of Lena pacing at night—startling awake, watching the news with the grimness of someone attending a funeral—memories of Lena’s affectedness come to you. Her humaneness at hearing Lex escaped again, and in her humanity in her vulnerability.

“I want to take responsibility, so I don’t want to say I did it for you, but what you said earlier made me realize everything is a bit of both. I did it for me, I did it for you too.”

Lena laughs. Laughs. It shocks you, causes you to jump and stop looking at your hand, causes you to meet her gaze again. “Ow,” you growl, unamused, because Lena is still laughing. She’s covering her face and has the decency to look apologetic.

Your ribs hurt from the startle but even you can’t help but be confusedly amused.

“I want to hate,” Lena starts, mirth in her voice, “that you did the thing I wanted you to do least in the world, and you got exactly what you wanted out of it. You captured lex, and in a way captured me back too.”

“Oh,” you perk up, smiling up at Lena innocently. “Guess I’m the brains now, brawn.”

Lena’s eyes narrow at you. “That insinuates that you were ever the brawn.”

Back to glaring. Lena lets out another huff of laughter and brushes your hair back, away from a cut on your forehead. Her eyes are so soft, so full of warmth, and love that you could cry. Would cry, perhaps, if it wouldn’t hurt every part of your body.

Instead you grin, because that’s what humans are taught to do instead of cry, and ask, gently—feeling like a shaky child; “does that mean you’re my girlfriend again?”

—-

Lena’s eyes widen as she realizes what she implied, and as you own up to it so hesitantly, so childlike, like Lena could ever think of pushing you away after everything. Her words, not for the first time today, betray her. All she can do is nod.

Your responding grin is heroin to Lena. You smile so wide the cut on your lip breaks open again and starts bleeding, but you pay it no mind. Lena does. She smiles back, albeit more gently, and squishes your cheeks together to prevent the split widening.

You pout in her hands. Lena’s heart flutters. She keeps getting hit randomly with momentous emotion, and she’s hit again with it now. The softness of this moment feels like seeing a rainbow after months of storms.

You here, alive, looking at Lena with so much love in your eyes, so much understanding. It feels like a fantasy. Feels like a lucid dream, a dream she’d choose, over, and over again, until the end of time.

Lena leans in and kisses you—not on the lips, they are cut and bruised. She kisses you on the space just below your eye. A spot, one of the few spots, clear of visible injury. She takes pleasure in the way you flush like it’s the first time. She always did, will always do. “I love you,” Lena whispers, promising herself that even if there are days you won’t believe her, there will never be a day you don’t hear it.

It’s you, and it’s her, and it’s the mountains of history and trauma you two are fighting against. Lena likes the both of your odds. Loves winning just as much.

You’ll beat Lex she knows. There will be a day soon where he stops haunting the two of you. Where he’s not even a thought. When that time comes you’ll have won the war, but for now she’ll take the pride of winning every battle in stride, for now, in the now; she’ll cherish every moment, the many moments, when trauma leaves the room and love consumes it.

“Lena Luthor,” you breathe. You breathe. “My love, my hero.”

[sserpente]

Memories to Enemies 🎃

Synopsis: The TVA is no more—not like it was before, anyway. When the multiverse breaks free, Loki finds himself back where he belongs, on the verge of claiming the throne of Midgard and this time… this time he finishes what he started. But while he’s gained so much, he’s lost even more, for there was one thing the chaos of the timelines had not fixed—it hasn’t brought you back to him. You, the mortal he had refused to fall for until he realised it was too late all along. He never stopped searching for you after Thanos snapped his fingers and now, with so many timelines at the tip of his fingers and a tempad in his pocket… you were out there somewhere and he will find you. But when he finally does… he realises that not only are you the leader of the very rebels aiming to end his ruling, you are a Variant. And you don’t remember him.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN, people! 🎃 Requests from two anons. There are no spoilers for Season 2 in this. I’ll have some more spooky Halloween Imagines coming up this week (I hope), I just didn’t manage to get any writing done as I had initially planned because I spent the whole weekend queueing at Comic Con, haha!

Words: 2407 Warnings: smut

Additional NSFW warnings: edging, very light dub-con

“The rebels are causing trouble again, my king.”

“Which is to say you are unable to deal with a bunch of disobedient humans?” Loki looked up, legs spread on the makeshift throne in what used to be Stark Tower. He lifted his chin, his menacing glare all but intimidating the former politician, now reduced to nothing more than a lackey.

“N-no, of course not. I just thought you should know. They… they made it to the lower levels of the tower last night.”

Loki narrowed his eyes, leaning forward a little. “Who did?”

“The rebels, their leader… we caught her face on camera but… security managed to overwhelm them. I believe they were trying to plant explosives somewhere in the building.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re being held in the cellars.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “You should have led with that, you fool. Send them up. No… bring me their leader. I believe it is time we have a little chat about where her… loyalties lie.”

The politician nodded and excused himself. Silence filled the room after he left and Loki sat back again and sighed. Those rebels were hardly a threat to him but if they had made it to the tower… he would have to up his game and patch the holes in his security. A spell or two should suffice. Possibly something that would make any uninvited guest grow mushrooms all over their body should they trespass.

If only… he sighed once more. If only he had you by his side. You had always loved this time of the year, made him hand out sweets for children and carve out pumpkins. After all this madness… he still had not found you again. You had been snapped away in the sacred timeline, so he had found out… and even though the now-forgotten Avengers had reversed the titan’s doing, you remained unfound, out of his reach. Wherever you were… he would tear every single timeline apart until he had you back by his side. Would you be overjoyed, to see him where he belonged? On the throne, ruling as he was meant to be?

“The prisoner, my king.” The politician returned after the metal elevator doors swung open yet again, dragging with him a young woman who carried herself quite regally despite her predicament. She lifted her head, her hair revealing her face…

Loki’s face dropped. It was you. You… you were the rebel foolishly trying to put an end to his reign? Desperation and relief paired with anger and disappointment, the sadness that had been residing deep in his heart after he had lost you not quite going away. Something was off.

“Leave her here. Get out.”

“No security, my king?”

“I can handle a mortal woman. Now get out.”

The politician nodded and left without another word all the while you kept on staring at Loki as if you were ready to plunge a dagger into his chest any moment. You probably were—and it broke his heart a lot more than he would have liked to admit.

Your eyes widened when he spoke your name. “So you already know me then.”

“Know you? I have been looking for you for years, pet.”

You blinked. “Pet?”

Loki’s face fell when he realised. You did not know. You did not recognise him. You did not… love him yet. It mattered little, now did it? He would make you love him again, he would restore your memories. Were you a Variant? Had you met him? Had Thanos’ horrors taken your memories? He had to find out, needed to find out.

“You will not believe me, of course. But you were in love with me. I lost you when Thanos snapped his fingers. My path, too, changed. That is a story for another time. Come here, pet. It is so good to see you,” he purred.

Containing his emotions and his excitement had never been so difficult. He all but longed to jump up from his throne and sweep you up into his arms, holding you close until you struggled to breathe. But he didn’t. He wanted you to come to him. Only you remained frozen in place. He could practically feel the defiance radiating from you.

“I’m not falling for your stupid tricks, Loki.”

The God of Mischief smirked. “Would you like me to prove it, pet? Ah, let’s see… I just so happen to know you love Halloween. Carving out pumpkins… handing out sweets to children… watching scary films and eating this disgusting snack you call popcorn… and of course, how could I forget, the hot chocolate with small marshmallows and whipped cream on top? It’s reserved only for months that have the letter ‘r’ in them, no?”

Loki watched with great satisfaction how your lips parted in shock. He stood, taking a step forward. “What else… ah…” He tilted his head. “There is a particularly sweet and sensitive spot on your body that has you absolutely feral for your lover. It is… right… here.” He took another step and brought his hand up to brush his thumb over the spot right below your ear. You shivered, clenching your jaw.

“Lies… y-you’re… you’re tricking me.”

“No tricks,” he purred, “only treats.”

To Hel with the restraint. With a low growl, Loki pulled you close, lifting you off your feet. Your rather pathetic resistance died quickly once you realised that you weren’t going anywhere. Loki was too strong—you’d do well to save your strength for when it truly mattered. But… did you want to?

Why, on Earth, was there a part of you that enjoyed his touch? The way he looked at you… so full of hope and lust… that could not be acted, could it? To win over the leader of the rebellion, make her compliant… was that his plan? Or was he telling the truth?

And if he was, then what would have ridden you to dedicate your life to stopping him at all cost? Heavens, last night, you had attempted an assassination.

Loki put you back down on your feet once you reached his bedroom. He had redecorated, of course. Everything was green and gold, even his bed sheets. It looked… beautiful. Homely, almost and faintly familiar.

A shiver brought you back from the depths of your mind when Loki sneaked his hand under your shirt, slowly pushing it up.

“Do you truly think it’s a coincidence you react this way to me?” He tilted his head, smirking when you flinched at his fingertips ghosting over your bare stomach. He was right. He was so right and you hated it. Part of you wanted him—right here and now. The other part was seething and then, yet another… wanted to give in to his advances out of curiosity.

“Why… why don’t I remember then?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, pet. We will restore your memories. You could be a Variant—a version of yourself from another timeline who has not yet met me. We will worry about this later. I missed you.”

He sounded so… genuine, so full of relief. It was not hard to believe him. But how could you? You hated this man, you loathed how he had taken Earth for himself and declared himself its ruler… you would never kneel before him… right?

Why were you questioning yourself? Perhaps… perhaps it was for when you gazed into his blue eyes, you detected just how troubled his soul was. There was more to this than tyranny. More than a hunger for power.

You ceased to resist when he pulled your shirt off of you. Mesmerised, dazed… perhaps even charmed, you lifted your arms for him to remove it and then allowed him to make short work of your trousers. Only a few more moments passed until you stood completely naked before him, breathing heavily.

His kiss was soft when he held your chin with two fingers, almost as if testing the waters. Your eyes… your eyes fell shut. Why… how did this feel so good?

“Give in to me, pet. Let me show you.”

You bit your lower lip. “I’m supposed to hate you.”

He chuckled. “Why yes… We can speak about your little rebellion after I have had my fill of you. You always longed to be by my side, pet. What changed?”

“I don’t know you.” And perhaps that was the reason. You did not know him. Did not yet see behind the mask. Would things be different if you did? You could have tried to kill him the very moment you stepped out of the elevator. So why hadn’t you? Would you, under different circumstances, support his cause? Aid in his rule? Rule… by his side? That was such a silly thought, wasn’t it?

And yet… even though the arrogant god kept calling you his pet… the way he looked at you made you feel like he regarded you as his equal. Maybe your subconscious knew that there was more to it. Maybe your soul had recognised him.

“Then I will make you know me again. You, my darling, are the one good thing that has ever happened to me. I will not give you up.”

You swallowed, unsure of whether you should regret the words that left your lips next. “S-show me.”

“With pleasure.” Loki smirked, lifting you up once more. The warm leather of his armour against your naked skin made you whimper but it was gone within a heartbeat, melted off his body in a green hue of his magic. It felt tingly, familiar… as if you’d felt it a million times before.

The God of Mischief crawled above you, spreading your legs as he did. Skin against skin, he towered above you like the king he was, his raven hair framing his handsome face. You resisted the urge to reach up and stroke his cheek—just about, for when he leaned down and assaulted your neck with his lips, you dug your nails into the soft bed sheets instead, fighting, desperately, for composure your body was eager to give up.

Every touch, every kiss… it felt right. And you were craving more.

A gasp escaped your lips when Loki sank his length into you with but one deep stroke—it was both out of pure bliss at his size and surprise at how wet you were. How had him undressing you slowly done that?

Deep and languid thrusts soon drove you to the brink of madness. No one… no one had ever fucked you as well as Loki was fucking you right now, and the fact that he seemed to know exactly what turned you on almost filled you with fear.

The intense eye contact, the gentle touches, the soft dominance radiating from him… without a doubt he would pin you against the bed if you so much as attempted to flip around and ride him instead without… without asking for permission?

You whimpered at the thought, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You were close already. Loki was working his magic… firm and yet gentle, you felt it teasing your clit, applying just enough pressure to bring you closer and closer to climax. Once he had you there, right on the edge, the delicious pressure eased, his rhythm speeding up.

“You’re enjoying it…” Loki purred—his tone smug, if anything. You groaned.

And then, once again… he pushed you toward that blissful cliff only to stop—again—right before you could fall. You realised soon enough what he was doing. He was edging you. No one… no one knew about your filthiest desires and kinks. So how did he? He really was telling the truth, wasn’t he?

You pretended to hate this but you loved it… loved how he was in control of your pleasure, able to take it away if he so wished… urgh.

“What is it, pet, hmm? Did you want something?” His strokes were relentless—how he managed not to rut into you like a beast you had no fucking clue.

“P-please…” you choked out, “…let me cum.”

Loki tilted his head. “I think you can do better than that.”

Another grunt on your end but this time, you were ready to throw hands—only the God of Mischief above you didn’t let you. The invisible force tormenting your clit wrapped around your wrists like invisible shackles, holding them in place.

“Please…” you repeated, “…I need to cum. Stop… teasing me…”

“Let me hear it one more time, pet. Scream for me.”

A groan of frustration escaped your lips. All helpless beneath him, there was nothing you could do but endure his torturing treatment. Your toes curled, that all too familiar knot in your lower stomach tightening…

“Oh, fuck, please, please, PLEASE! Just… LET ME CUM ALREADY!” Loki chuckled—he chuckled and then, finally, the delicious pressure on your clit returned. And this time… it didn’t stop again. You tensed up, all air knocked from your lungs as your orgasm washed over you. Contracting around Loki’s cock who did not stop rocking into you for a second, fucking you right through your moment of utter bliss until he too, came.

Loki’s moans were quite possibly the sexiest thing you had ever heard as he buried himself inside of you as deep as he could, coating your walls with his seed, twitching and jerking.

He rested his forehead against yours then, eyes closed—content, at ease… and so unlike what you had expected from a tyrannical ruler.

This… it had felt like your bodies were made for each other. Perhaps they were.

“I want to remember. I want you to prove to me that you’re not the evil tyrant I imagine you to be,” you said, breaking the silence.

Loki chuckled. “Hmm… ever so demanding, pet.”

“Why are you calling me that?”

“Because it turns you feral, am I not right?”

You bit your lower lip. Yes, damn it, he was right.

“We will find a way to restore your memories, I swear it. You are mine.” You shivered when he spoke your name. “You are the very reason I am not a tyrant. Whatever you see, whatever you believe… Midgard is in good hands—it is your home realm, after all.”

“So I’ll just have to trust your word? The word of a Trickster?”

Loki smirked. He knew. He knew that your heart already did.

"Yes. Now then... shall we carve a pumpkin together, pet?"

A/N: Party hard tonight! 🎃

[ponderingmoonlight]

gojo’s younger sister with nanami pls

Your wish is my command. Planned this for sooo long and now I finally have an excuse to write it down haha. Please let me know if you like it <3

Nanami and Gojo's little sister meeting again years after their ugly breakup

Pairing: Nanami x Gojo's sister

Word Count: 3,5k

Synopsis: It's been some hell of years since Nanami left Gojo's younger sister for another woman. But when her big brother invites her to Jujutsu HIgh again, things start to unveil...

Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, just got a new laptop so there might be some spelling mistakes (sorry about that)

As usual, I'm always thankful for comments, likes and reblogs. Thank you for your support <3

„Why me?“, Nanami growls, looking up from the paper in his hands.

“Because I’m absolutely not in the mood to listen to her gossip. Also, you’re her favorite. Sometimes I even think she loves you more than me…”

“Satoru, I’m not the babysitter for your little sister.”

“Come on Namani, I bet she’s happy to see you again! You guys got along so well!”

The imagines of your last meet-up crowd into his head and inevitably make Nanami grimace.

“The emphasis is on ‘got’. You know exactly what happened last time. What makes you think she wants to see me after all of this?”, Nanami questions in annoyance.

Deep down, he knows exactly that Gojo just wants to mess with him. It’s been years since he dumped you. Years in which you never saw each other again. Satoru mentioned that you are travelling somewhere in japan and driving out curses there quite successfully. You’ve always been a very gifted jujutsu sorcerer. It seems to run in the family – as well as your bratty behavior and good looks.

“That was years ago, I bet her sparrow brain has long since forgotten who you even are. Please pick her up”, Gojo purrs and rubs his head against Nanami’s shoulder.

Nanami signs in defeat. Does he have any choice at all? Hopefully you know about it and there is no nasty surprise…

-later at the airport-

Your bag falls to the ground with a rattle.

“What the actual fuck are you doing here, Sir”, you cry out, eyes covered in sunglasses.

“Your brother said to pick you up from the airport and that you know”, Nanami explains briefly, like it would somehow help curb your upcoming anger.

“That shithead. I just shouldn’t have come at all. Urgh, fine. Just don’t talk to me, idiot”, you snap back and angrily throw your bag in the trunk of the car.

Kento is the last person you want to see and Satoru knows that. Why is he sending him here? He could have moved his lazy ass to pick you up himself. After all, it was him who invited you to his academy in order to help him out.

You demonstratively sit in the back seat and cross your arms in front of your chest, not gifting him a single look. Kento was the first man to ever break your heart – extensively. And you will probably never be able to forgive him for that.

“That should not be a problem”, Nanami mutters to himself and starts the car.

Your eyes pierce through the back of his head. What did he just say?

“Like you’ve got a reason to be mad at me”, you hiss.

“May I remind you that you didn’t even give me the chance to work things out? You just packed your things and left”, Nanami comments dryly and starts the car.

“Like it was ever your intention to fix it.”

“Good that you know better what I thought than me”, he barks back, unusual aroused.

God, you’re still as annoying as back then. Always having the last word, you always think you know better, your overconfidence. It drives him insane. But you still look as good as you did then, like you haven’t aged a second. The only thing that catches is eyes are your now fuller curves and the fact that you cut your hair a little shorter. Well, you are a woman now, all grown up in your twenties.

“You left me completely shattered, asshole. I had no choice but to go. You made me lose faith in love and relationships forever”, you mutter, gaze wandering around the trees outside.

The thought alone runs shivers down your spine. Kento was your first and last love. You never believed a man would upset you like that, even though Satoru is your bigger brother. It hurt like hell for several years. Seeing him now, with his hair styled in a delicious undercut and the sharp lines of his jaw makes your heart ache in agony all over again.

“I sincerely apologize for that. It was never my intention to hurt you like that, (y/n)”, Nanami replies with a soft voice, completely startled by your confession.

He knew you had some rough years. Sometimes he just couldn’t hold back and had to ask Satoru how you were. But hearing from your own mouth how much he hurt you makes his heart sink in his chest.

“Whatever. Leave me alone and focus on driving.”

-at Jujutsu High-

“(y/n), there you are! You have no idea how much I missed you!”, Satoru shouts across the athletic field that separates you both.

Your whole body shakes in anger. That fucking asshole, the cheeky grin on his stupid face says it all. That was pure intention to get on your nerves. Satoru is probably the worst big brother you could wish for.

“I will beat your ass in front of your students, shithead!”, you yell at him and stomp across the square at a frightening speed.

“Who is that?”, Yuji questions and squints his eyes in order to see you better.

“That’s Gojo’s little sister. Be careful, she looks pretty pissed off”, Panda whispers while all pairs of eyes are set on you and Nanami walking behind you at a safe distance.

“Come on, (y/n). Let’s talk abou-“

Satoru isn’t able to finish his sentence as you blow him away with a simple hand movement.

“Pretty stupid to piss off the only person who can breach your sphere”, you hiss through gritted teeth, more than ready to hit him again.

“Oh, how much I missed our little fights. How was your ride? Nanami is an excellent driver”, he keeps digging while dodging your unfocused punches.

“I thought you valued my feelings more.”

The hurt in your voice makes him stop your flying fists in track, you can feel his eyes staring at you behind his blindfold. He knew, of course, that the breakup hurt, but the pain that glitters in your eyes is unknown to him. And the tone of your voice…You were always so confident, so sure of yourself. At the moment, nothing seems to be left of it.

“I would never hurt you on purpose sister. After all these years, I thought you guys-“

“Shut up Satoru, I don’t wanna hear it”, you hiss back and wrench your arms free from his grasp.

“Hey Megumi, how have you been?”, you question over your shoulder.

“I’m alright. Nice that you’re here, you are definitely my favorite Gojo”, Megumi answers with a disparaging look towards Satoru.

“Well, the competition isn’t that big. Excuse me, I’ll bring my stuff in the house. See you later, kids.”

Without giving your brother another look, you stomp towards the sleeping wing, body still trembling in anger. Why is Satoru such a jerk? He knows full well that this breakup has left you completely shattered. It would have been absolutely avoidable to meet Kento here. Instead, he decided to get him to pick you up from the airport and ruin your trip right from start. You don’t want to see his stupid handsome face, the exhausted veil that covers his overworked eyes and his outrageously strong body. Damn, his new undercut really does look good.

“Here is your suitcase, (y/n). Have a nice stay.”

Nanami’s voice behind you makes your blood boil in an instant. Fuck, why can’t he just leave?

“Stop saying my name”, you bark at him while literally ripping open the door to the familiar guest dorm.

“Why can’t you act grown up for once? I’ve always appreciated you, this childish behavior doesn’t suit you at all”, Nanami replies dryly and loudly drops your bags on the floor at the corner of the room.

His words hit you like a wall. In the matter of seconds, he rips open all the wounds you desperately tried to heal over the last years. Has he forgotten what he did to you, why you act this way? Hot tears begin to burn in the corners of your eyes, your throat feels dangerously constricted. No, don’t cry. You’ve never been the type to whine a lot, especially in front of other people. Kento has never seen the tears he caused. Why now, after all these years?

“I gave you everything I had, Kento! I gave you my virginity, my whole fucking heart, you were everything for me this whole time! And after our very first night together you just left, after all the things we’ve been through. The things you threw at me…I will never forget the words you said. You claim you always appreciated me? That sounds like an insult. Don’t you dare to ever judge me again for treating you as badly as you treated be. How’s your girlfriend, huh? Was it worth it to dump me because of her? You fucking idiot, if you talk to me like that again I’ll blow your head off”, you scream into his face at the top of your lungs.

You can’t help but let your feelings out. Fuck, it feels good to finally tell him what you think, to tell him how you felt this whole time. He ripped your heart out of your chest when he informed you about ending things because he met another woman, just after fucking you for the first time. You felt miserably for years, never let another man touch you again. He has some nerves, standing in front of you and blaming you cowardly. Fuck your outburst and your tear-stained cheeks.

“If only you would listen to-“

“GET OUT. NOW”, you yell, whole body trembling in agony and rage.

“I think it’s time to go, Nanami”, Satoru’s unusual serious voice announces in the background.

“I hope that someday we can talk about what happened, (y/n).”

With that, he turns on his heels and leaves the room quietly. As soon as his frame is out of sight, your body gives in. You sink to the floor, hands covering your blood shot orbs while you urgently try to calm yourself down.

“I’m just not interested into you anymore, we should end things right here.”

“That night meant nothing to me.”

“Don’t ever call or text me again.”

You need to get him and his words out of your head, ban them out of your heart. But how do you forget all those nights you snuggled each other to sleep, his sweet words that followed you wherever you went, all those missions you accomplished together. What about the plans you made? What about the trust you gave him? Your shallow, rapid breath hanging dreadfully in the air. You just can’t forget.

“Come on, (y/n). Seeing you like this is killing me”, Satoru sits beside you and gently wraps his arm around his shoulder.

You want to yell at him, tear your body away from his touch, to slap his arm firmly. But you can’t. Your body refuses to move, completely consumed by the feelings you tried so hard to avoid.

“I think you two should talk. Of course I don’t know all the details, but I do know for sure that Nanami isn’t a bad guy. Whatever happened must have a good reason.”

“He left me for another girl, Satoru”, you breathe out.

“You may be the most annoying woman on this earth and I’ll never understand how well you two came along in the first place, but I’d cut off my hand if that’s true.”

“Better cut off your tongue, man…”

“I’m serious, (y/n)”, Satoru’s features are entirely stern, not even a spark of humor gleams in his eyes.

“Nanami may not be a great guy like me but he would have never cheated on you, let alone left you because of it. Talk to him, ask him about it. Must have been something else.”

He straightens himself up again, pouting your head just the way you hate it.

“And now get yourself together. I’ve got a very nice mission for you to go on.”

You stare at his back as he leaves the room, his words still hanging in the air. Satoru knows Kento since he joined Jujutsu High. If he is so sure about his friend…

No. You shake your head vehemently. Even Satoru doesn’t know everything. You would rather die than talk to Kento Nanami ever again.

-the mission-

“Huh, are you finished already? I thought we’d have a little more fun together…”

Fuck fuck fuck.

Your whole body is covered in bruises and your own blood while you stare at the creature in front of you. Who the hell is this guy? And why on earth is he so fucking strong? You are a grade 1 sorcerer, easily able to defeat most curses around. But this one? You stare at his scarred face, grimaced into a dumb grin.

This is something out of your league.

“Send someone here before I croak here, dumbass”, you hiss into your communicator just in time before he hits you again.

His attacks are merciless, almost impossible to block even though he doesn’t use a sphere.

Yet.

You wipe sweat and blood of your forehead. Who knows what this fucker is capable of.

“Ms. Gojo, we are here to help you!”

You can’t believe your ears. Who the hell is this guy waving at you like an idiot? And who the hell is walking next to him…

No. Not in the world. Let it be anyone but Kento Nanami. His blonde hair waves through the air while he forces himself onto the scar head, distracting him from your very own self before he hits you full force.

Nanami. What is he doing here? Thick anger crawls up your veins. Yes, you ask for help. But not from Nanami and some random jujutsu sorcerer.

“I thought Satoru would come here himself. This is nothing to joke around”, you bark at Kento.

Just as you want to turn away, a scorching pain radiates from your leg and takes your breath. Fuck, where does that come from?

“Oh, you’re injured!”

Your heart sinks into your chest, palms covered in nothing but your own blood and met by a giant gash in your thigh. When did this happen? This asshole has hit you so many times that you probably didn’t even notice it in your adrenaline rush.  

This is bad. Very very bad. Even though he didn’t hit you critically, the amount of blood that runs down your leg is enough for you to know that you might bleed out if you won’t get any help.

“Are you alright?”

His tall frame lingers over you before you are able to stop him, kneeling down in front of you to take a look at your wound.

“Leave me alone-“

“This is serious. You might die, (y/n). I can’t afford to lose you.”

Like in trance you stare down at him, his words repeating themselves over and over in your head while your heart hammers against your chest.

“I can’t afford to lose you.”

“Why did you leave me, then?”

“Not now, (y/n). Yuji, stand your ground as long as possible. I need to escort (y/n) out of the curtain.”

“Gotcha!”

You slap his hands away, whole body trembling in…what? Anger, fear, agony? Maybe everything at once, you aren’t sure. His brown eyes dart towards you immediately.

“I’m trying to help you”, he comments dryly.

“This injury is nothing against the pain you caused me years ago.”

Your cruel words hit him like a wall. For a moment he can only stare at you, the way your striking blue orbs begin to glister and that look of distress on your beautiful face. No, you didn’t deserve what he did to you back then. You deserved so much better. But still…

“I did it for you.”

The words escape his mouth before he is able to stop himself.

“Oh, so traumatizing me was best for me? Wow, thank you so much for your help then. Maybe I should-“

“I saw what can happen. I saw what can happen when Yu died in front of my very own eyes. And I swore to myself to never let anything like that happen to you. I hoped you would quit being a jujutsu sorcerer, that hurting you enough would make you leave Jujutsu High for good, that you’d find a nice job. That you’d be safe.”

You stare at him through wet lashes, brain desperately trying to make sense out of his words. He can’t be serious, right? This can’t possibly be the reason why he left you.

But his eyes don’t lie. No, they never did.

“So you…you didn’t cheat on me?” you breathe out.

Fuck, you hate the way tears start to pool your eyes and how your whole body begins to tremble in emotion. All these years, all these horrible years you thought you meant nothing to Kento, that he ended your relationship because of another woman. All the things he said to you…They never left your head, always present in the following years.

You thought you weren’t good enough for him.

“I would have never cheated on you. But this was the only way to make you believe that I didn’t have any feelings for you.”

“Did you?”

You stare down at him, time standing still. All these wasted years of thinking you aren’t good enough. All these years you loved this man so much that you never let another man touch you. All these years of grieving his touch, of imagining him while touching yourself, of crying yourself to sleep instead of laying in his strong arms.

All this time. Can it really be fake?

“I never stopped loving you.”

Maybe it’s because of your blood loss or because your entire world turned upside down, but your knees give in, making you sink onto the floor if it wasn’t for Kento’s arms that catch you just in time.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

With fast steps he crosses the battlefield, eyes set on you from time to time. You still can’t believe it, everything seems like a dream that you’ve had multiple times before. He loves you. Nanami Kento just told you that he still loves you. After all these years of pretending he doesn’t care and breaking your heart.

“I wish you would have told me”, you mumble against his chest.

“I wish you would have told me the real reason. I would’ve understood, especially because I know how hard it was for you.”

“I realized how wrong this decision was. But every time we’ve met you were so distant, not even willing to talk a single word to me. I never had the chance to make up”, he explains briefly.

“You said you cheated on me”, you remind him weakly.

“I would have never cheated on you. Since you’ve been gone, I never touched another woman.”

You look up at him through wet lashes, the way his jawline is so tensed up that it might snap any minute. The urge to let your fingertips brush over his chest just like back then seems so unbearable all of the sudden. God, how much you loved caressing his soft skin, the scars that even then decorated his whole body. How does he look now? He definitely got older, aged like fine wine. You want to stop yourself from looking at him, from grieving his touch. After all he lied to you, he shattered your heart instead of just telling you the truth. Yes, he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness so easily for how he lied into your face this whole time. But still…

“Would you mind…Holding my hand?” you ask all of the sudden.

Nanami’s heart almost beats out of his chest, the way you look at him simply takes his breath away. He would have expected anything, but not this. No, this doesn’t suit your hot-tempered personality at all. Never in his life did he think that you would ask him to hold you hand after all the things he did to you, after he hurt you this badly. But who is he to resist your vibrant eyes, especially when you’re feeling unwell?

“Of course…” he stutters.

When his fingertips gently intertwine with yours, you feel as if he fired a firework inside you. God, how much you missed this. How much you missed him.

You allow your tired eyes to rest for a minute, whole body suddenly feelings so numb and light. Maybe all of this is just a dream and you’ll wake up any minute. But until then…

You want to hold his hand just like back then.

“But don’t think I’ll forgive you this easily”, you mutter weakly.

“This wouldn’t suit you at all”, he replies.

And for the first time in years, Kento Nanami is able to grin again. Because he finally confessed to the love of his life, because you’re laying here in his arm while holding his hand.

Everything will work out eventually.

[alexiswritingstuff]

Saved by the unexpected.

Pairing: Frank Castle x teen! reader (Gender Neutral)

Other appearances: Micro, aka David Lieberman. 

Summary: Your run to the grocery store goes sideways on the way back home that leads you to being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and with a fresh gunshot wound. Upon waking up you find yourself somewhere unknown with people you had never seen... Or so you thought.

Warnings: gun fights, murder, gun shot wound, mentions of other injuries like cuts and bruises, implied parent loss. 

Be aware of possible spelling mistakes or sentences that are worded wrong. I read over my writing before posting but stuff still manages to slip under my radar!

A/n: Bro I really am bad at creating titles for fics. Anyway, I watched The Punisher a few months ago, and previously finished DareDevil, and I wasn’t able to stop thinking about a certain Mr. Castle. That man in general already activated my daddy issues and then I watched season 2, and... Yeah, that was a lot, but this is what my brain created! 

Like I say whenever I write for new characters, because this is my first attempt, the way portray them and the characteristics may not be a 100% accurate, so bear with me while I find my footing.

Either way, I hope you enjoy reading! 

It was supposed to be a morning like any other. One that started with a bright sky and chirping birds before slowly melding into the warm afternoon. 

You had just done the weekly shop, collecting everyday items, things that would give the most important nutrients, with basically the same amount in snacks and drinks. 

I mean, what else could they mean by a balanced diet?

The main route you would usually take had been closed off by the time you had finished with the store, the road cracked from something unknown, meaning that you had to take a detour. 

It was one that you had walked through many times before, leading you almost directly towards where your trailer was stationed without having to wind round block after block of apartments. 

So, the decision to choose it was simple. 

You took off down the pathway between two very large buildings that almost looked as if they could reach the sky from your angle.

This part was more commonly known as the run down area. The complexes on either side of you were empty. Most had the windows boarded up, due to the lack of repair, and the walls themselves were stained from a plethora of things. 

Some parts even looked about ready to fully crack and crumble. 

It was a lot harder to get funding for these buildings the further they got from the main street. The only people even coming here were probably residents from some that managed to become apartments. But the rest was pretty much just abandoned property.

You had moved under an overhang section created by the walkway above, connecting the two opposing buildings. It honestly sort of felt like a tunnel due to its width, but definitely not by length as you were quickly welcomed by the next area. 

To the left, behind a wall that separated a descending pathway from the ground levelled with your own feet, was a car park. 

The size of it would give the implication that there was a mass of vehicles coming in and out during the week, easy access for people working in the surrounding buildings. 

Though now, it was always empty.

… Or it was supposed to be. 

In the furthest corner was this very specific looking handful of cars; big and black, almost blocky in structure. A sight that should have been acknowledged as the first sign. Your first warning. 

But not fast enough.

Out of nowhere, there was this echo that felt like it drilled through your ear drums. It was a violent sound, one that rung for almost a full minute through the complex to your left. 

It wasn’t something you really questioned off the bat, somehow. I mean, the building was old. 

It could’ve been a loose panel finally deciding to break free from the ceiling, or a cracked wall weighing in on itself. Maybe even someone trying to fix up the damn building.

In fairness, those assumptions weren’t exactly bad... 

They were just the wrong ones. 

The sounds repeated, and whatever it was reverberated from the broken windows in a way that properly allowed it to be heard in its entirety. It was closer this time, more full. “What the...”

It was a series of bassy pops, collectively almost imitating the blast of fireworks, but within the sounds were these clinks like something was falling on the floor right after. 

And though it was a very muffled detail, that took a moment for your brain to register, it didn’t stop the cogs from making their final turn. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Within the same moment that you had made the decision to practically slide to the side, trying not to completely slam into the wall that you ended up behind, the doors of the building burst open with such force that it echoed.

There was a chorus of yelling, even more shots, and heavy boots that practically skidded against the concrete as they moved. Like you had just stumbled across a damn army.

You were sat on the ground, one leg stretched out from your hurried movements while the other was still bent at the knee, ready to move if necessary. The backpack was still strapped around your shoulders meaning that the further you tried to press against the brick wall, the more certain items began to stab into your back.

Your heart was hammering, chest heaving, as you continuously looked up and down the path you sat on. 

It was the only thing you could see. Everything was happening on the other side of the wall, so pretty much all you could do was just sit and listen for the people that might decide to come your way.

You fought the urge to cry out when bullets skimmed the top of the wall, causing little clumps of rubble and dust to hit the top of your head. “Why me, why me, why me!” you hissed through a whisper, trying to ruffle the stuff out of your hair. 

Hurried shouts were passing back and forth across the huge car park like a game of tennis, though it seemed that due to the other sounds that followed, and the panicked state of your mind, all of them were unintelligible. It sounded like they were coming from everywhere.

The multiple objects in your bag had started to make your spine ache so, at the same time as yet another shot, you leaned forward. Quick enough that the sound of items unsquashing themselves would ring at the same time as the bullet. 

You reached back, making sure that your bag wasn’t going to hit any surface, and then took it off one arm at a time before the bag was finally placed in front of you.

Your fingers immediately unzipped it to begin the search. You wanted some kind of weapon, or if not that then at least some form of protection... But you had in fact just gone shopping. 

I doubt a banana would be useful in a gun fight. 

So, you moved onto the pockets that sat on either side of the bag. A huff of air passed through your lips while your hand shuffled through the left pocket. You felt around, following the lining of stitches for at least something, but the most found was a wrapper from some candy or gum. 

So, it was on to the next. 

This time, to do the same routine, was a bit more difficult as this pocket was where you kept your water bottle. A more careful process as you started to comb through the compartment. 

And then, finally, you felt something.

In that moment it was hard to tell what it was. It felt long enough to at least administer some form of damage, or maybe only threaten someone from a distance, so your stressed mind just chose it. You began pulling your hand out. 

But, despite what you wanted, it wasn’t going to be that easy. 

Right as the item had been tugged vertically, an attempt to make it easier to pull it out, the movement had caused the bone of your wrist to hit into the bottle.

Ordinarily, it was something that you wouldn’t think twice about. You were just trying to get an item out of a pocket, surely you could do that without something bad happening... 

However, half of whatever you were trying to grab had been stuck under the bottle in a way that already had it tilting. And then the impact landed. Your wrist hit near the top of the bottle and that was all it needed. 

It started to tip out of the pocket. 

A sharp breath sucked into your lungs at the feeling, but with no ability to catch it in time, the metal cylinder simply fell to the floor from a very unfortunate height for you. 

In fact, even after the sound echoed in a way that most definitely had already blown your cover, the world seemed to have other plans for you as after yet another bounce and a few more smaller ones, it was starting to roll. 

You leaned to the side as fast as you could, reaching your arm out to its full extent with your hand wide open. But it was like trying to catch a fly, and soon, it just rolled right passed your fingers, moving even faster the more the water sloshed inside of it. 

The only thing you could do was watch in utter horror as the bottle travelled right passed the edge of a wall for the whole world to see. 

And eventually, about halfway through the path, it ran into a rock or a crack in the ground. The bottle bounced about one more time before it finally stalled. Though, at this point it didn’t really matter. 

The shots had placated a bit, the only ones being fired sounding farther away, as murmurs of confusion had dispersed through men on the other side of the wall. 

“What was that?

“Did you hear that?

“Where did that come from?” 

Your eyes squeezed shut, teeth biting into the skin of your bottom lip as your body just purely froze no matter how much your brain was telling you to make a run for it. 

“Okay, okay, all of you keep moving! Spread out more while I check it out. We’re not alone out here!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Okay, sir!”

However many people were on the other side of the wall scattered within the next beat of your heart. More shots and shouts began to ring out with the same loudness, now joined by the heavy smacking of boots as they moved further away...

But a pair of footsteps still remained. 

Now, your heart was purely thumping in your ears. It was by far the most prominent thing you could hear in that moment, though the sound of those harsh shoes kicking up stones without care was an active competitor. 

Especially when they started getting louder. 

Your eyes flicked to the open backpack in front of you, an ache beginning to pulse through your forehead while you stared at the contents. 

There was this sort of desperation, and almost disappointment, that built in your system at the thought of losing the freshly bought items. Though, what was the point in trying to save the food if you wouldn’t be alive to eat it. 

Within the next second, and after a very deep breath, you propped your hands firmly against the path below on either side of your body. You pushed your strength into the unstretched leg until it was folded under you. 

By now you looked like some kind of runner getting ready to do race, and honestly it was pretty much how you felt. The thought was the only thing suppressing the panic active in your chest, so you indulged.

There was this internal count down as you moved your other leg behind, even if there wasn’t that much space to do so. And then the timer went off. 

You were about to push yourself onto your feet. About to get up, adopt a sort of hunched over posture so that no part of your body could peak over the wall, and run like hell.

But again. It wasn’t going to be that easy.

A movement was caught from the corner of your eye. 

You had barely even started carrying out your wanted movements when a man suddenly appeared right round the corner of the wall, slow and intense. 

He was pretty decked out from what your panicked mind could comprehend. There were a multitude of weapons that clung to his belt, and he was in fact holding this massive gun. 

Initially, his focus was on your bottle. The barrel of the gun was pointed directly at the object of confusion, as it didn’t really look like the standard water bottle from afar, his finger hovering over the trigger. Ready to fire at any moment. 

At this point you had resumed this sort of weird crouched position, stuck between wanting to stand up and staying frozen to the ground as if you could just meld into it. 

Either way, it was the kind of stance that didn’t provide a sense of balance. And soon, despite how much the dread utterly pooled at the bottom of your stomach like it did on a rollercoaster, you fell. Right on your ass.

The gun, that you had pretty much only seen in movies or on the news, was pointed right in your direction before you could even blink. 

You attempted to crawl backwards, winding round your backpack, eyes wide and fully open as they trained on the man who in turn had started to follow your movements. And then you stopped, knowing full and well what was coming even if you got to your feet. 

Your breathing was erratic, arms moving stiff and slow as you raised them above your head with your palms open, facing the man who made no implications that he was going to put that gun down. 

“Listen,” You gulped, “I didn’t see anything, I swear-- Look, there. My bag is there-- Take it. Take anything.” 

“Anything you want.” 

It was no use. No matter what way the words tumbled from your mouth, that finger never tried to move away from that trigger. 

You closed your eyes, feeling the way your body heaved with every breath, the way your hands shook. Your ears listened out for the wind, the wildlife that had most definitely moved on from here already, or just something that wasn’t from guns. 

But then a shot rung out. Right in front of you.

It was an indistinctive reaction when your body jolted at the sound as it echoed through the large area and pinged within the windows of the abandoned buildings. You had almost fallen, your arms springing down even if you thought there was no time to protect...

You could still move?

Your eyes snapped open, the ability to take in full breaths yet to come, and you looked down at yourself. You tried to scan across what you could see of your body, that was somehow still alive, and leant on a hand to further support yourself. 

However, just as your brain attempted to register a lack of a gunshot wound, the sound of something hitting the ground stopped your investigation. 

Your head sort of bobbed for a moment, the want to continue your search fierce in your veins, before your gaze finally tore away.

The man before you had tumbled to his knees. His hands were moving around for a few seconds, desperately trying to grab a part of his chest as if in disbelief of what just happened. 

And then another shot fired. 

Like before, your body had jolted in response, still having no idea which gun it was coming from. 

However, when a particular part of you scrunched, the shock in your system decided to completely drain, your pain receptors activated in a way that you weren’t at all ready for. 

It was hard to pin point exactly where the feeling had originated as it spread like a wildfire, but it was intense enough that the arm you were leant against almost buckled within seconds. 

Sharp burning. A sensation that made it feel like you had been bitten by thousands of fire ants over and over again. 

Or, when you finally managed to get yourself to look down again, it was because you had in fact gotten shot. “Oh...”

He got you.

“Oh, shit.”

There was this hurried voice that bounced through the walls. Your head attempted to snap up like it had previously done, but this time it was just unsteady. Almost like it was moving in points.  

By the next blink, that practically didn’t even feel like one, another man had made his way round the corner. He also had a gun raised... but, it seemed different.

His general stance, the way he carried the weapon, the expression on his face even if you could only see half of it. It was clear that he had a lot more experience than the last guy. 

They weren’t from the same group. 

The man lowered himself onto one knee beside the body, head still raised cautiously to make sure to keep full awareness of his surroundings while he searched over any pockets he could see. 

And then he stilled. 

You didn’t have to move, or even make a sound, for this guy to spot you.

Within about a millisecond the man had the gun right back in his hands in a way that had you immediately raising your own despite the pins and needles that ached through your muscles.

The world around you was starting to spin, making it more difficult to pay attention to the mans movements. “Don’t... Don’t kill.” Your lips were heavy, the ability to even part them becoming some kind of workout. 

And then, like someone just flicked a switch, it was like all the strength and power in your body decided to dissipate at once. 

For the second time now, you fell. Though, in this instance, it was your back that collided with ground in a way that had your head smacking into the concrete path right afterwards. 

Every inch of your skin felt hot, yet cold at the same time. You were trying to move, wanting nothing more than to get back up and go home. Just curl up in bed and forget this ever happened.

But the ability to even budge a limb had faded from your brain until you couldn’t even feel if your arms were lifted in the air or not.

So, you just laid there, eyes staring blankly up at the sky while your eyelids acted like they had forgotten their main function. “Hey!” 

And right before you gave into that nagging want for them to close, something blocked whatever view you had left, “Kid? Hey, kid, are you... Oh, no-- Kid, can you hear me?” 

You could feel hands on your arms, and soon, one had pressed onto the wound in a way that urged a gurgling sound from your throat. 

“Kid!”

~~~

It took your brain a significant amount of time to realise that you had awoken when the time eventually came. 

The sensations within your body were either mild or piercingly intense. There was no in between. 

Every muscle in your face was rigid, aching in a way that made the want to move diminish within seconds. You were trying to blink, your eyelids remaining heavy and ignorant no matter how many attempts were made. 

It hurt to breathe. Any movement within your torso would stretch the skin closest to your armpit and immediately sent a crackle of fire spreading through it like a shock of electricity. 

Your muscles flinched, almost spasming, as you slowly reached back, trying to grip onto some part of whatever lay beneath you so that you could push yourself up.

There was no attention aimed at any sound that spilt through your lips and it was only when a harsh pain erupted, engulfing your shoulder, that you had realised how loudly a sort of strained yelp had burst from your throat. 

You fell back onto the pillow, the agony in your body burning so hot that it had you light headed.

If it wasn’t for your current state the sudden echo of quick footsteps would’ve registered a lot faster through your ears, and in your mind. 

There was words passing across the air, some may have been aimed at you for a response, but this was the first time you had fully managed to open your eyes since you had actually woken up.

Your head slowly turned as voices continued to echo, muffled no matter how many times it rung in your ears, until your right cheek met with the pillowcase. Your eyes cast through a metal wall, more so the frame of one, which looked as if it previously had some sort of murky glass within.

The place was massive. 

This dim lightly spread throughout most sections as the source above couldn’t reflect on any surface due to the fact that everything around was either a form of black or a gloomy grey. The lights themselves were also the kind of ones that aimed straight down, meaning that it would only cover what was directly beneath. 

“Hey.”

In the centre of the main area was this sort of ring. There was a walkway that cut through the middle so that people could get from one side to the other, and on either side were desks that followed the rim, a plethora of monitors and electronic devices cluttering the surface. 

Some you hadn’t even seen before.

“Hey, uh, kid?”

Your head snapped back into its previous position in a speed that felt like it shook your brain. You squeezes your eyes shut for a good minute before they opened again. 

And after blinking a few times, your vision came back into focus. 

There was this dude stood to your side. He was tall, slim in width with curled mid length hair and a beard that wasn’t connected to the moustache covering his lip.

“Oh, yeah-- Must be pretty disorienting to wake up in a place like this.” The way he sounded matched almost exactly like you had guessed. It was nice. Not harsh and not too soft. 

He held your gaze in such a way that made it seem as if he could see right through you, even taking a slight step back when he noticed how wide and cautious your eyes were set on him, “It might take some time for you to believe us, but I assure you that we don’t want to harm you. You’re all good... Well, I mean, apart-- apart from your injuries.”

“Generally, you’re good-- Or like... Yeah.” 

Your hand lifted from where it had previously flopped and you reached it to your left shoulder, slow and steady. 

Your fingers travelled lower, gliding across the exposed skin before it reached the edge of tank top arm slot. Your movements halted in the space between the end of your shoulder bone and the beginning of your chest. 

Finally, you realised where the source of pain was coming from.

Somehow, the shot taken at you had landed right above your first rib. And from the uncomfortable feeling, constantly there, from what you were guessing was another bandage on your back. It had gone all the way through. 

The dude that had been previously talking cleared his throat after a moment. He was sort of shifting the weight back and forth from one foot to another, unsure of what to do or say which then ended up with him looking away. 

Your attention landed back on him, your arm happily moving back to lay by your side. Though, your eyebrows then furrowed, realising that the guys eyes had settled on something, and it even looked like he was asking a question.

So, after allowing yourself to give into your curiosity, you followed the direction he was looking in. 

You almost jumped out of your skin.

There, leaning against the thing you could barely call a wall, to your right was a guy stood perfectly still with his arms tight across his chest. 

It was that man from earlier. The one that found you. Saved you?

His eyes were already on your own which left the questioning gaze from the other dude unanswered. At first the muscles in his face were visibly tense, crinkled eyebrows, slightly narrowed gaze, jaw clenched tightly. 

And then you looked at him. 

In an instant it was like everything taking over his features eased. He raised his head a single time before it lowered back to where it was usually held. A greeting. 

“I’ll bet your hungry, huh?”

Your attention snapped back to the other dude once again to find that there was this gentle smile pressing into his lips once your eyes met his. 

The question circled round your mind for a good few seconds before it fully processed. It had you thinking, a silence falling within the little room while the hum of electricity barely caught your ears. 

In all honesty hunger had been the last thing on your mind. To solve the sudden mystery was even more difficult since you couldn’t even remember the last thing that passed through your body, other than a bullet. 

Though, right before you could even try to figure out the wanted response was to be, it seemed like your stomach decided to do it for you as it suddenly rumbled through the quiet. 

It may have not exactly sounded like some kind of missile, but considering the building was very echoey and your lack of answer had created a pause within the people stood in the room, it was louder than any other sound at that moment. You were horrified.

The man with his arms crossed dared to huff a quiet laugh through his nose and before you could even send him a look, or give any sort of reaction for that matter, the other guy took a step back with this expression on his face.

He was practically beaming as he clasped his hands together, “Good answer.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed once again, gaze now following the man as he moved round of what you now realised was a cot underneath you and out through the doorway a moment later.

You were going to attempt to continue watching him, wanting to know where he was walking despite the context clues, but after trying to look through the empty frames in the wall, the figure of the quiet dude blocked your view.

And for the first times since your initial meeting, if you could even call it that, your eyes properly took him in. 

Regardless of the position of his spine from the leaned pose, his posture was sharp. Straight like he had to practice it many times. He was tall too, though a little shorter than the other guy. 

The hair on his head looked like it was just growing out from being shaved, the sides a lot shorter than the top. It looked like a marine cut. 

Admittedly, he could’ve done his hair that way cause he simply wanted to. But you saw him earlier. 

He knew the ins and outs, every little detail, of the gun he held strong in his arms. You saw his stance, one that could more commonly only be from having to do it 24/7. 

And where was the most known place where you had to stand at attention almost every day?

Any item of clothing that covered his body was full black, including the shoes and his belt, which was a drastic contrast to any skin that was exposed. It also meant that you could spot any cut or bruise he had very easily. 

There was a good few on his face. Some had become scabs already, looking like they had been there for some time, while others almost looked fresh. The most noticeable appeared like it followed his cheekbone. 

Your eyes immediately snapped away upon realised that you had been looking at him for so long that he had in fact noticed it. I mean, there wasn’t really anything else to occupy his mind. 

You tried to shift your body against the cot, a mixture of wanting to distract yourself and a test to see how much you could move without it hurting. 

But either way, it was hard to do anything without being able to properly use a side of your body.

So, ultimately, you were stuck. Trapped under a blanket which forced you to lay flat on your back, against something that you wished had the same feeling as your bed, while sounds started to echo from what you were guessing was the kitchen. 

“Hey, kid.”

The voice that hit your ears was a lot gruffer than expected, gravelly enough that it almost sounded like it was hurting his throat. The way the words passed through his lips were clear, but also hushed as if he was trying not to be loud for an unknown benefit. “What were you doing out there, hmm?” 

With his stance, you half expected that whatever he wanted to say was going to come out harsh. That he was going to yell and tell you off for something. But he didn’t. He was... actually concerned?

“It’s a decent walk from the store you went to.” he then added on, and now that seemed to get your attention. 

Your head rolled to the side, narrowed gaze finding him with a newfound cautiousness. 

The man in turn must’ve realised the suspicion his wording caused, so he simply gestured to the side with his head, “I got your bag.”

Sure enough, as you moved your lower against the pillow, it was in fact there. The first familiar thing you had seen all day was sat on the ground beside the guy. It may have had some slight rips, some of the material had even been scuffed enough that it was visible. 

But it was there. Zipped up and everything.

Your favourite backpack.

Despite your distance, the bag looked plump with some of the contents clearly poking against the sides of it. All of the items were still in it. Hell, even the water bottle was back in the same side pocket you always put it in.

“We couldn’t find your name in the system,” the man spoke again, and honestly you had forgotten that he was there regardless of the fact that he stood next to where you eyes were aimed. “Did your parents know where you were?”

You looked at him within seconds of the question catching your ears and that dread from earlier began to pool at the bottom of your stomach all over again. 

I mean, you should’ve expected the question at some point.

It was common for you to forget that other people could look at you and see a child, ask the whole ‘where are you parents’ when you had to buy stuff that apparently didn’t seem normal for a child to get, even if it was just household items. 

You will never forget the time you tried to buy scissors. 

But the question still stung. It would make all of the memories of countless things flood right back until it was fresh in your mind, creating a wave of nostalgia that you hated at this point. 

Your head slowly rolled back to its previous position, your gaze now cast up at the rotting, grey ceiling while a deep breath seeped through your nose. Your body practically deflated when it went back out. 

Like before, you didn’t need to say anything for the guy to understand the situation.

Obviously, from your position, you couldn’t clearly see him as anything more than a blurred blob from the corner of your eye, but he had sort of loosened his crossed arms. Was the look of loss that clear on you?

How could he even notice it that quick?

Your body almost jolted when he cleared his throat and pain shot through your shoulder that had you biting back a grunt.

“Listen, we’re not-- We’re not going to hurt you... all right?” His tone was different this time. Lighter in a way that reduced the grumble of his voice, even if it didn’t sound unpleasant. “You’ve been here for a few days so that the, uh, big guy could fix up your shoulder.”

“That’s all.”

From the feeling of his gaze aimed in your direction, you could tell that he was doing what you had done, except he was more so trying to analyse your movement no matter how miniscule. 

It made you nervous enough that your mind was trying to zone in on the sounds coming from the kitchen, fiddling with the fabric of the blanket. But that just meant that a silence had started to layer. 

“Can you speak?”

Your body stiffened within a matter of seconds. 

At this point there was no reason for you to remain quiet. It was unclear as to why it had even been done in the first place. Was it to conceal your voice? Hide your identity? 

Even then, they had already ready seen your face and might possibly have looked through your backpack. The things they’ve could’ve known about you were unknown.

Maybe it was that thing you were told as a kid that kept you holding your tongue. You know, the whole stranger danger thing? Do not interact with people that you don’t know unless absolutely necessary. 

People seemed to get stuck on specific moments in the past regardless of it directly links to a moment of stress, or trauma, if you remembered correctly what that article said. Maybe that was your thing?

Your contemplative eyes flickered over the ceiling above for another moment before they finally made the decision to move, and so did your head. Once again, it rolled to the side until your right cheek touched the pillow.

You met his eyes. His gaze anything but harsh no matter how long a silence remained.

This guys wasn’t strange. 

I mean, the concept of waking up in some massive building that you didn’t recognise with two other dudes that you had never met before was in fact a little, sure.

But there was no reason given beyond that as to why you should fear either of them. Be scared of them. 

After all the dude talking to you had in fact saved your life.

You sniffed, that same feeling of nervousness making a comeback the longer the eye contact was held. It had you needing to look away for a few seconds before your eyes went right back. You stiffly nodded your head. 

The man straightened his back against the metal, his spine probably tired of the frame digging into it. His gaze sort of narrowed for a moment. Maybe a few questions sprung into his mind? Maybe he was judging you, or needed to sneeze? Who knows.

“You just won’t.” He nodded his head once, the look in his eyes switching to something unreadable as he got the message despite the lack of words, “That’s... No. No, I get it.”

“Well, I’m Frank. Uh,” he began, dragging out the last sound for a little bit as he tried to locate something through the wall behind you, “Dude in the kitchens name is David. I usually call him Lieberman, that’s... It’s his last name-- He’s the big guy I was talking about. Dude who fixed up your arm.”

“I tried to help too, but, uh... Not exactly my field of expertise.” 

You were about to figure out some kind of gesture to make in response so that you wouldn’t leave him hanging again. And had even started to move your arm. 

But then that name cycled through your head once more. 

Frank... Castle. 

Frank Castle.

It seemed that the cogs had made their final turn once again. His face found their link to certain memories in your mind.

Holy shit. 

He was the guy on the news a while back. The dude had been deemed a vigilante as he had been running around and killing bad people-- Well, it was practically only you and a few other people that thought they were the bad guys.

Either way, after that trial thing, the man that was currently stood to the side of you had supposedly died. Killed in an explosion on some kind of boat, if you remembered correctly.

I mean, it could be that you were the one who died and this was just what came after. And honestly if you were still as delirious as you were before it might have been believable, but that pulsing burning in your shoulder said otherwise. 

So, it was true. He really was here in the flesh, and all in one piece. 

Frank Castle was alive. 

Your expression, and maybe how intensely you had been staring at him, must’ve given away your thought pattern as he sort of tilted his head when he noticed the shift in your eyes, “You know me?” This time your gaze remained unfleeting in the line of attention. 

Frank didn’t seem at all worried about the realisation of his identity. In fact the only change in his expression was done to display his curiosity to the new information. 

Sure, worst comes to worst, he has the upper hand at this moment and it would probably be the same at any other. He could do whatever he needs to do to make sure that you wouldn’t blab before you blinked even once. 

But from his worn out state, and the way he interacted with you, it was visible that he wasn’t going to do that. He must’ve been fighting for quite some time before he had stumbled upon you. 

Why the hell was he even there? Out in the open in a place like that?

Who were those other guys?

Regardless of the want to let your mind flow down that rabbit hole, you were fronted with your previous realisation as your eyes actually focused on Frank again.

You were right. Frank  Castle wasn’t the bad guy.

Without paying attention to it, there seemed to be this smile that began to curl at the corners of your mouth. You moved your head began to move back to its your previous position, your eyes wanting to find the discoloured ceiling to zone out on in a way that further made you forget about your pain--

Shoes suddenly scuffed against the hard ground in a way that stilled all over your movements. Your gaze flickered to whatever had joined you in the room as apparently you had missed the approaching footstep.

It was David, the height difference between the two guys now a lot clearer as he had stopped beside the man whose arms were yet to uncross. “Can you hold this for a second?” Until now. 

Frank sort of looked at the man for a moment, eyebrows furrowed again before he complied to the request. And the moment the plate had been taken into his hands, David moved as if on autopilot. “All right,”

He wound round the foot of your cot, taking back the same position he stood in when you woke up, “Gonna need to sit up so you can actually digest this shit.”

He felt a little bad when he saw the look on your face, though he remained still while you prepared yourself, starting to fidget with his hands. He didn’t want to touch you without permission, but it appeared that your eyes were already closed.

You slowly but surely moved the arm of your injured shoulder to sling across your torso, hoping the position would stop it from moving about too much. And then you braced yourself, awaiting whatever sensations were about to come. 

By the time a hand had been placed on your body, your teeth were already gritted. One was placed on your back, a way to properly bring guide you into the needed position, while the other gently cupped the back of your head so that everything would move in unison. 

“Deep breath.”

The pain was immediate. It was such a thing that purely seared up a side of your body. Engulfed everything in its path.

It was impossible to see from your closed eyes, but there was a reaction from the man stood to the side when a slight whine escaped your throat. He had stepped forward, looking as if he was about to reach out if he didn’t have something in one of his hands. 

It was thoughtless. A movement that he had undone the moment he had realised by pressing back against the wall. But it happened nonetheless. 

David was muttering stuff of assurance, many forms of sentences letting lose into the air. You couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t catch onto a singular word. 

All you could think about was the pain. How stupid it was that you made the decision to take that route. How you didn’t run back the way you came after that first shot. Or how you didn’t even end up trying run until it was too late. 

Your legs bent at the knees the more your torso raised, as if trying to protect it of something, which slightly kicked up your blanket and made the heels of your feet dig into the cot below. “There you go, there you go!”

It was like a ripping of a band aid. 

At first, it was the stage of holding onto the edge, trying to hype yourself to get it over and done with. And then it was off. It may give a twinge of pain that lingered more than wanted, but overall the act had been complete.

“Right on, that’s you done.”

And so had yours. 

The biggest breath of relief huffed out of your mouth in a way that had David wanting to lightly pat your back, but it could accidently hurt you. So, instead, he resorted to turning his attention Frank, hurriedly gesturing towards the thing he held.

The man in question seemed to shake his head as if trying stifle his amusement, though he took a step forward to hand over the plate either way.

And then, by the next time you had blinked, it was held out in your direction. You just looked at it for a moment. 

It was a sandwich. One that may have been made with the most simple ingredients, and was probably the exact replica of what you would picture in your head upon hearing the name, but for some reason your whole body yearned for it. 

The plate was in your hands within seconds.

David took a step back, a slight smile reappearing on his lips at the progress. He gestured to the plate you held in the same position and then towards your mouth, seeming like he couldn’t get himself to stand still, “Eat up.”

You were. 

Oh, a thousand percent, you were getting ready to chow down on something, since the last time solid food had been eaten was probably the day you had gotten shot. And even then, you had no clue as to when that was.

However, right as you were about to bring the plate onto your lap, grab onto the sandwich and consume it with the upmost excitement... You paused. Stopped right in your tracks. Eating by yourself felt a little weird.

You looked back at David. 

It took him a moment to realise that your eyes were on him again. But when he did, he sort of rocked on his feet. His eyebrows furrowed as he sent a look towards Frank, “What, um... Is it-- Is it bad, or something?”

There was a mixture of confusion and almost offence tugging at certain features and it had your head shaking immediately.

Within the next minute, it was almost like a game of charades as you attempted to relay the words in your mind. 

The plate remained in the hand it did before. You bent your left arm at the elbow, trying to avoid any movement that would attack the area surrounding your wound, and you gestured. 

The first time you pointed your index finger at him and then at the plate, but he merely blinked. So, you then did it in reverse, directing the line of attention to the plate and then him. 

Frank even seemed confused as he watched with narrowed eyes, apparently unable to deduced the situation himself which still left David with nothing. “Kid, I don’t... I can’t understand what you’re trying to say, are you-- are you allergic to something?” 

“Are you asking me what’s in it? If I made it, what--”

Biting back the biggest sigh of your life, and in the fastest way that you could in that moment, you restored to just holding out the whole plate towards him. Even repeated the previous gesture one final time to make your point. 

“Oh,” David dragged out the sound as he began to nod. Finally, he understood, “Yeah, man, I’m boutta make my own.”

He remained for only a moment more, watching as your plate slowly lowered to your lap so that it wouldn’t drop. And then he started walking again, moving back around the edge of the cot before making his way through the doorway.

Franks eyes were already on your own by the time your head turned in his direction, as if he expected it to happen. 

This time without accompanying the movement with gestures, you simply held out the plated food towards him. Franks head shook instantly, he even waved a hand, “It’s for you, kid. Need to get that strength back.” 

His eyes directed towards the kitchen almost immediately after. He was either counting on David possibly making him one or waiting for him to leave the kitchen so that he could do it himself.

Thing is though, he only gave you a reason as to why you should keep the sandwich held for yourself.

He didn’t say no. 

The plate was brought back to your legs, flat against your thighs, and then you began looking around. Your eyes scanned across any close surface for something that could be used as a cloth, something to wipe your hands with, but there was no luck. 

You resorted to just scrubbing your palms, and more importantly your finger tips, against the cleanest clothing you had under the blanket. And then you grabbed the sandwich. 

Despite what Frank thought was going to happen by the time his attention was once again redirected towards you, when the sandwich was held horizontally in your grasp, instead of bring it to your mouth and taking a bite. You began... pulling at it each side? 

It started to rip.

“What are you doing?” he questioned pretty much immediately, his face and voice both riddle with confusion. And maybe even a little disturbance. But that didn’t stop your movements at all. 

In fact the only time you had stopped was when the entire thing had been torn through the middle, completely halved. However, even after that, you reached for one of the parts. You took it from the plate, stuffing it into the hand of your unmoving arm.

And then you held out the plate all over again to the man with very furrowed eyebrows. 

He just looked at the poorly halved sandwich for a moment, a part of it being more of the contents that the bread, and then his eyes found yours. There was an unreadable expression within them.

When he still didn’t take it, and due to the fact that your arm was starting to get tired, you redid your act of holding it out towards him. 

And this time he couldn’t withhold a response. 

Frank scoffed, shaking his head in the same amusement from earlier while he stared at the plate calling his name, “You’re very persistent, aren’t ya.” 

Despite his point still standing, the consistent want for you to get the nutrients needed to fully recover, it was like he couldn’t say no to you. At least to your face. So. Frank took the plate.

The next few minutes were spent by the two of you choosing the perfect side of the sandwich and then going to town, chowing down on it like it was the first one either of you had ever had. 

And man, that David could sure make a meal, even if it was just slapping ingredients between slices of bread.

“Damn!”

Seemed like someone else agreed with you.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing all this time, huh, Lieberman? Cookin’” Franks words were incredibly muffled despite his constant chewing, but either way the sound still echoed. A laugh soon followed while something poured, “What else would I do, man? Wasn’t just gonna do nothing.”

“Well, you can add cooking to your... I don’t know, list of talents or something.” Every time that man spoke, his head lowered right back down so that he could see the plate, taking another massive bite that you were just waiting for him to start choke on.

“Why did you... Why did you say it like that?” David's voice was more monotonous than usual, either playing fake offence or he was too preoccupied with arranging the order of his sandwich ingredients. 

You took another bite, a piece of lettuce almost falling onto the blanket without you knowing. Frank turned towards the kitchen again, speaking midway through putting a part of the sandwich in his mouth, “Like what?” A plethora of crumbs fell onto the plate in a way that made your nose crinkle.

“Like... Are you lying to me? Lying isn’t very nice, Frank.” 

“Nah, come on, man, I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t say that If I didn’t mean it, you know that-- You could put these in a-- a--  a sandwich shop--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay,” David practically grumbled at this point, placing down what sounded like a butter knife on the counter before he sniffed, “That at least mean that our little friend likes it too?”

Frank turned to you, placing the little chunk of sandwich he had left onto his plate before he rubbed the fingers that touched it together. 

You swallowed down your bites, the act proving to be a little harder to from the lack of eating solid food, and noted the fact that he was awaiting some form of answer to relay to David. 

Your sandwich was finished by now. It wasn’t a contest but it was almost wild how fast it had been consumed. And now you sat there, wiping your hand against your trousers while attempting to get any food stuck between your teeth. 

And then you cleared your throat, your nose scrunching for a second when the action ended up shaking your chest a little too much, “Y/n.”

Frank had turned his towards the kitchen moments prior. He had parted his lips, even slightly leaned back against the wall to get a proper view of the man awaiting an answer through the empty frames. 

Now his head snapped in your direction, eyebrows raising more than you had even seen, “What was that?”

You may have made the ultimate decision to use your voice in the first place, however, having that gaze of his on you once again caused this overwhelming feeling to surge through your body. 

Your spine had straightened, this time managing to ignore the shock of pain that hit your system, while your eyes widened just a smidge.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

The echo of David's voice had caused you to turn to where he stood in the kitchen, still busied with making another one of his masterpieces. It was something done half out of anxiousness and just wanting to distract yourself.

And then it made you think.

Surrounding you was this big, more empty than full, abandoned building. The only other people there was Frank, a man who was supposed to be dead, and David... who you presumed was also most likely to be the same due to their team up. 

If they were going to kill you, or hurt you, they would have done so already. 

But even then, when you woke up this morning you hadn’t been restrained or anything. There was nothing keeping you there other than the fact that they wanted to treat your wounds. 

A deep breath filtered through your nose as your eyes slowly met with Franks again. 

His expression was practically the same as it was before you had looked away, giving you a patience no one ever had. The gaze he held was warm. Encouraging. 

Thus, you swallowed once again.

“My... name.” Your voice was hoarse from waking up not that long ago, but also from it’s lack of use. There was always this feeling in your throat as if something was stuck in it, and you coughed, the urge to squeeze your eyes shut presenting itself yet again when it shifted your shoulder.

But you composed yourself, sucking in another breath and rubbing your hands against your legs while David was still left with no answer, “It’s Y/n.”

Franks head had already been nodding before you had finished saying your set of words. He pursed his lips, finally swallowing down the bite he had previously taken.

Frank sniffed, turning his head towards the kitchen yet again. Though this time it seemed like he did so to conceal the change of his facial expression more than to get David's attention. “You hear that, Lieberman?”

Regardless of his attempts to hide his reaction, the smile was clear on his lips. Such a one that it had even reached the skin around his eyes as they started to crinkle.

He looked back at you. There was this emotion on his face that remained unchanging. It seemed like a fondness, but at the same time he almost looked... proud?

“Y/n likes it.”

[dragonagitator]

How to help Karlach in your post-game fix-it fics:

Assuming you didn't skip a lot of content, we end the game at character level 12 with enough XP to be this >< close to level 13. Level 13 Clerics gain access to the 7th-level spell Regenerate, which can regrow missing body parts.

So Karlach really only needs to chill out in Avernus for like a week while we take Shadowheart out adventuring to get enough XP to level up. Then we can use Helsik's ritual to portal into Avernus and grow Karlach a new heart.

The D&D module Descent Into Avernus has a bunch of useful info on the setting if you want to write about the process of tracking down Karlach once you arrive in Avernus. Since she lived there for 10 years, if this plan is hatched before she's forced to return then she should be able to recommend a meeting spot or somewhere you can leave her a message that you've arrived. Regardless, the Infernal Rapture restaurant in the Wandering Emporium is apparently the only place in Avernus you can get a meal that doesn't taste like ash, and thus that seems like a good spot to plan to meet or wait for someone to eventually pass through.

Removing the infernal engine first to make room for the regenerated heart might be tricky, so take Dammon with you. Since it's been functioning as an artificial heart and Faerun hasn't yet developed the artificial life support technologies used during heart transplants, Karlach will almost certainly briefly die at least once during the process, so also load up on Revivify scrolls.

You may need to cast Revivify more than once if she technically dies multiple times during the process because death and resurrection in D&D aren't just biological processes; they're also recalling the soul to the body. BG3 was very generous with the time limit (IIRC it just has to be done before the next long rest), but standard D&D rules are that it must be cast within a minute of death. To be on the safe side, I'd recommend spamming Revivify once per minute until the "surgery" is complete.

Getting back out of Avernus could also be tricky, so you likely need to leave someone behind in Baldur's Gate to periodically perform the ritual to reopen the portal for your return.

(My "Modern Girl in Faerun" self-insert WIP was originally going to be just a retelling of the events of the game, but I've already got enough post-game plotlines for a sequel and I'm nowhere close to finish writing the first story yet lol. Like yes Gale I will return to Waterdeep with you, but we gotta do a thing for Karlach first. And then even once we're back from Avernus, wedding planning in Waterdeep might hit a few hiccups with the events of Dragon Heist and Dungeon of the Mad Mage unfolding in the background. Damnit, Volo, we're on our way to a cake tasting appointment, we don't have time for this shit, go recruit someone else.)

[godmadeaterribleerror]

About Me!

Thea, She/Her, 20, unfortunately American. I write what I feel like, for better or worse. That usually means long (very long) series, but sometimes it means one-shots or mini-series.

Series

No Love Lost - Soldier Boy x supe!Reader

Three years ago you were normal, but then you met Homelander at a stupid party, and woke up the next morning in a cell.

After almost two and a half years of you being Homelander's little project, Soldier Boy was woken up only go rouge and be put back under. Somewhere in there, you escaped. And before Queen Maeve went underground, she told William Butcher about the Anomaly, a powerful supe who recently escaped Vought captivity and may have an agenda against Homelander.

One month later, the Boys found you.

You spend the next five months helping them best you can, though your control over your powers is weak and your fear of Homelander makes you useless in combat. But you get an idea. A stupid, dangerous idea that turns you into Soldier Boy's keeper, giving him a second chance to take down Homelander, you hanging over his shoulder, a threat should he want to go nuclear again. It's exhausting and frustrating, and you might kill him and yourself as soon as this is over, but you said whatever it takes.

And this is what it takes.

Coming Soon - Dean Winchester x Reader

Mini-Series

Willing to Break - Dean Winchester x Reader

With the Mark of Cain getting out of hand, you and Sam convince Dean to try something different. A spell that won't fix the Mark, but will change it. Make Dean crave good things, things he likes, instead of death and blood.

It doesn't exactly go according to plan.

One-Shots

To Need Somebody - (Dean Winchester x Reader) After a hunt goes poorly, Dean retreats down a well-tread path of self-loathing

[divineerdrick]

Warhammer 40,000 Balance Update for October 16, 2024 - Munitorum Field Manual and Errata for Xenos Factions

After writing, I decided to split this document up into the super factions for ease of use. I've also changed how I format rules changes. Let me know what you think! Is this more readable, would you prefer a single post, or should I do a post for each faction?

Edit: The color coding for points changes breaks every time I edit it. To fix it, I have to go into the HTML and correct where it's marking things. I just don't have the spoons for manually correcting that much text.

Aeldari

Form their lofty perch, Aeldari have gotten to a point where they could use some love. While their win rate is near spot on, they're having trouble making it to top tables. And the players that are, usually run Ynnari. But will GW give them much of anything or let them ride until their Codex comes out?

Here we run into another issue. The changes are being made directly to the Index. This is good. GW should definitely do this. But do they tell us what's changed anywhere? Answer, they've put it in the document for the Index Cards. It's important they put it somewhere, but I really wish they had it spelled out somewhere where the changes are listed.

So what's changed? The standard Autarch now has the basic Captain ability as detailed in the last Balance Dataslate. That's an important change to have listed finally. For FAQ, we get another common sense answer for Wraith Guard and clarification on how to properly position a jumping Yncarne.

All Corsairs: -2 pts/model Falcon: -10 pts Fire Prism: -10 pts Shining Spears: -10 pts/3 models Warlock Conclave: -5 pts/2 models Warlock Skyrunner Conclave: -5 pts/model Wave Serpent: -10 pts Wraithblades (5 models): -10 pts Wraithguard (5 models): -10 pts Wraithknight: -15 pts

As for the points, it's all good news! GW really is getting much better at understanding what's going on in the game! The important stuff here are the buffs to vehicles and Wraith constructs. I don't know if this brings Wraithknights back to the table, but small groups of Wraithguard might be worth taking again. I'm not sure these changes will convince anyone to bring a Conclave on foot though. All of this is good news for Eldar players!

Drukhari

The article warned that nerfs are incoming. Still I hope they only get a love tap. Their rankings are greatly bolstered by skilled faction specialists. No one is currently running out and buying up Drukhari models because the faction is good. Granted if GW successfully brings down the factions above them, there might be an issue. But I hope they don't go beyond a love tap.

For Errata, the Archon is specified as having its own ability, not Lord of Deceit. I don't think there's anything Drukhari can take to stack with it, so that shouldn't be an issue. My guess is the team is considering changing Lord of Deceit in some way. It is really strong. So this makes sure that change doesn't affect Archons. They also get a couple more clarifications for Pain Parasite, but there's nothing unusual here.

Archon: +10 pts Beastmaster: +15 pts Court of the Archon: +10 pts Drazhar +10 pts Hellions: -2 pts/model Incubi: +2 pts/model Lelith Hesperax: +10 pts Mandrakes (5 models): +5 pts Reavers (3 models): +5 pts

Yeah there's a lot there. I think that's a whole unit gone from many Drukhari lists. We also see that GW is continuing to recognize that some MSU spam is just really good. This really is a good thing, and may be slowly turning me around on purchasing units in bricks. But it sucks when you're already really nerfing an army.

Drukhari could be hurting.

Genestealer Cults

I'm about to say something that might shock some of you. I honestly don't think GSC is doing that badly. They've actually got solid numbers, though this come from the fact they're a niche faction with skilled specialists. But I think that's okay. I think it's okay for some factions to be there for the fans and require a little skill to play. It's very obvious that while GSC can struggle in match ups, you can get results with them. What they mostly need is internal balance, and I think that will come to rules.

For errata and FAQ we get a revision that makes sure you take a GSC model as your Warlord in the Brood Brothers detachment. We get a common play clarification for Tunnel Crawlers, but a very interesting clarification for Brood Brother Kasrkin. Despite not having the Voice of Command Army Rule, Kasrkin can still give themselves orders. That makes them a much more powerful and versatile unit in the Brood Brothers detachment. Still not sure that's enough to make that detachment even close to good, but it's interesting at least.

Abberants (5 models): -15 pts All Acolyte Hybrids: -1 pts/model Acolyte Iconward: -10 pts Atalan Jackals: -2 pts/model Benefictus: -10 pts Jackal Alphus: -5 pts Neophyte Hybrids: -5 pts/10 models Patriarch: -10 pts Primus: -10 pts Outlander Claw: - Serpentine Tactics: -5 pts

Oh boy! Christmas just came early for my cults! Still, I'm actually going to say these aren't the best changes. A lot of these changes benefit Outlander Claw, the Mad Max style detachment. And that is currently the best GSC detachment and my personal favorite. While the other detachments will love these changes too, I'm worried that Outlander is going to become the only way to play GSC. There's already a Wolf Jail like list running around the scene, and no one likes dealing with that list. The only good news is I doubt this is going to bring a huge flood of players to the faction spamming toxic bike lists. So while GSC isn't going to become a problem, it's only going to be a rare problem list that will frustrate players now and then.

Leagues of Votann

The Kin are another force that looks good from win rates but is actually struggling quite a bit. Like Death Guard, the Leagues struggle to secure the points they need at mid boards and up. This will hopefully get better if GW continues to get them new units, as their roster is still quite small. But for now, points aren't really the answer here.

FAQ wise we only get a timing clarification for Grudge tokens. And points don't have much either.

Einhyr Hearthguard (5 models): -10 pts Hernkyn Yaegirs: +10 pts

Okay. Yaegirs probably did need to go up, but I'm not sure this was the time for it. With so many other factions that are performing better getting all buffs, this is bad news for the Kin.

Necrons

After a brief stint as our metal overlords, Necrons have shifted to a pretty good spot. The main thing they need is some internal balance for their Detachments, and I don't think points will do that. Hypercrypt is just such a strong way to play the faction. Nerfing the models in the Hypercrypt builds threatens to drop Necrons too low. I think maybe only the Monolith can take a nerf without too much interference.

For Errata we start out with some Keyword fixes. Obeisance now benefits all Nobles and not just Overlords. And the Silent King is now officially part of the Triarch! However Plasmancers have had their ability to target Lone Operatives removed. So it's not all good news there. The FAQs are just common play clarifications too.

Annihilation Barge: -10 pts Catacomb Command Barge: -10 pts Deathmarks: +1 pts/model Doomsday Arc: -10 pts Lokhust Destroyers (1 model): +5 pts Lokhust Heavy Destroyers: +5 pts/model Monolith: +25 pts Obelisk: -25 pts Tesseract Vault: +25 pts Triarch Praetorians: -4 pts/model Triarch Stalker: -15 pts

That's a lot of shifting things around, and it's going to take me a moment to dissect it. As predicted, they bumped up the Monolith and Tesseract Vault with it, though I don't think many players were taking the latter or that it could be used as substitute. The dropped the cost on the Obelisk, but I don't think anyone's gonna try it out. Points aren't the problem there. My biggest problem here is Destroyers. While Hypercrypt did often take them, so did all the struggling detachments as well. And while faction specialists are going to experiment, I don't think these changes are enough to make Obeisance Phalanx really viable.

Things could be getting bumpy again for the Necrons.

Orks

As was said earlier, Orks are not in a good spot. While the nerfs they took didn't seem all that severe, they turned out to be nerfs to pillars that were holding the faction up. Since then, Orks have fallen hard and are the worst faction that has actual rules or isn't competing for its own players. And they're likely going to need a lot to rise back up.

The first big change is a clarification change to many rules that might help with some timing issues and future proofing. All or most rules active when you call the Waaagh now read they are active while the Waaagh is active for your army. This means if they change the timing on calling the Waaagh, as many Ork players would like, you wouldn't lose these buffs during your opponent's turn if you went second. While this looks like it might be nerf to Bully Boyz, the FAQ specifies that their abilities still work. We also get an FAQ the clarifies that when Snikrot uses Kunnin' Infiltrator, he doesn't count as moving for the purpose of Fire Overwatch. Though, he does still count as being setup on the board when he comes back down for the same stratagem.

Beast Snagga Boyz: -1 pts/model All Big Meks: -10 pts Boyz: -5 pts/10 models Deff Dread: -10 pts Deff Koptas: -10 pts/3 Gorkanaut: -15 pts Hunta Rig: -15 pts Kill Rig: -15 pts Kommandos: -15 pts Meganobz: -5 pts/model Morkanaut: -15 pts Tankbustas: -20 pts

And that is a lot of green, and a lot more green you can put on your table! As expected, Meganobz got some of their nerf rolled back. But a lot of boyz, including the popular Beast Snaggas, got buffs. Also, at some point the Gorkanaut and Morkanaut have to become playable as just a pile of wounds and guns on the table.

This is not going to make Orks into one of the top factions, but it should go a long way to getting them back where they should be.

T'au Empire

Tau are in what I'd call an okay spot. They're not where they need to be, but they're not doing that bad. They're performing just slightly above par, and only one of their detachments is struggling. They're what I would consider a textbook example of an army that shouldn't be receiving any external balance passes, so that they can rise up to where they should be when the meta changes. Internally, Kroot need help. But I'm not sure points can fix that.

The big fix here is to the Puretide Engram, which I think has been broken since the Codex came out? It now does something, letting you get a CP back on 4+ when you target the bearer's unit with a Stratagem. The new FAQs start by clarifiying that Crisis Suits always have a Pivot of 0" regardless of how you model them. Then we get two clarifications that, while they are how the rules work, are doubtless going to feel bad to Kroot players.

Commander Farsight: -10 pts Kroot Carnivores: -1 pts/model All Kroot Shaper: -10 pts/model Kroot Rampagers: -5 pts/model Krootox Rider (1 model): +5 pts Piranhas: +5 pts/model Riptide Battlesuit: +10pts

It looks like they're trying to do some internal balance, and at least help Kroot somewhat. But I don't think this is anything close to enough to make them viable. I don't think the other changes are going to affect Tau much, though we might see Farsight a bit more.

Tyranids

My beloved bugs have really turned it around with the Pariah Nexus changes. Despite losing Spore Mines, the changes to Synapse and Shadow in the Warp means we can actually get some damage now. That means we aren't always on the losing end of trading games. Neurotyrant with Zoanthropes also make for a fun and interesting tech piece. I wouldn't be at all surprised to see them take nerfs, as well as the Swarmlord. Unnending Swarm could use some love though.

For errata, Surprise Assault gets some cleanup for timing and targeting. The Swarmlord gets the same treatment as Cypher, the Archon, and Ventris got, meaning it will keep its version of Lord of Deceit. Unseen Lurkers has been updated to the rules changes on Stratagems preventing your units from being targeted. Hunting Grounds, and all rules that trigger when a unit arrives from reserves, are clarified to trigger when a unit didn't go to reserves but was set back up on the battlefield. Rules that say "cannot arrive" on the battlefield during a turn take precedent over units that "must arrive" on that turn. While it doesn't specify, I do believe they can still arrive the next turn under normal Strategic Reserve rules. All the rest I believe are common play, though I was initially confused by the Neurogaunt/Neuroloid answer. But Neurogaunts specifically say that they have to be within range of a friendly model.

Carnifexes: -10 pts/model Lictor: +5 pts Old One Eye: +10 pts Pyrovores (1 model): +5 pts Von Ryan's Leapers: -5 pts/3 models Winged Hive Tyrant: -10 pts

This all seems fair to me. Carnifixes on their own got cheaper while Old One Eye got more expensive. The full unit still dropped in cost though. Pyrovores continues a trend as to how much GW wants you to pay for a single unit. And the Lictor has honestly been under-costed for a while.

I'm happy with this. I think we'll be just fine.

Final Thoughts

And with that, we have our balance changes for October! Space Marine players of all stripes aren't going to be too happy. Even Dark Angels, who initially thought would do well, will hate the base points changes in the Codex. Only Space Wolves . . . you know . . . THE ARMY THAT NEEDED NERFED THE MOST!!! . . . will be fine with these changes. Dedicated Ultramarines players will likely get something to work though, now that their Primarch is back in play. Sisters and Thousand Sons are in for a drop. Sisters probably won't drop too far, but, and I know I said this last time, I'm worried about KSons. Drukhari are really going to be hurting, though I'm sure Archon Skari will still find a way to win. I'm also worried about Leagues of Votann, Necrons, and World Eaters too.

Orks are looking like they'll start to rise again, but I don't think they're a top faction. CSM and GSC might be in a position to fight for the top spot. Wolf Jail is dead! Long live Jackal Jail! I also think Aeldari might have a reversal of fortunes too. The rest of us will only shift by percentage points, which is exactly what you want when the balance is this tight.

[clickbait-official]

hello how are you?, could you imagine where the reader and morpheus discuss something in the dream and morpheus says something hurtful to the reader and spelling a lot like "" you are a mortal human and need to know your place ",

but regrets it, but s / o decides to spend time in the wake neglecting her health without resting not wanting to meet with that king, she is really human and knows her place now. Thanks (the ending can be sad, happy or with continuation, you decide 🤗)

anon. anon look at me. i love you anon. do you understand anon? do you know this fact? i love you anon. i love you.

something short and not sweet for you <333 idk what is wrong with me but i CANNOT write fluff rn its so strange

masterlist

~~~

Lucienne waited for your return. Despite her professional demeanor, she cared deeply for those she considered close. Including you.

It had been an awful fight, she remembered, between you and her master.

“-But if we were to do this, we could-“

“There is no we in this situation. Do not assume you are part of this.” Dream’s voice was cut you off, also cutting off any argument.

Lucienne stood to the side, unsure of how to diffuse the situation. How to lessen the tension, how to make it better-

It happened in slow motion.

“Fine. You should do this to-“

Similar to how a cat would, his eyes darkened and he spat, “You will not make demands of me. You are a mere mortal human,” He took a breath, face twisting into a sneer. “And you need to know your place.”

You turned and fled the room.

You hadn’t come back since. It had been two days.

Lucienne, as much as she didn’t like to admit it, was getting worried. You were, after all, a mortal human - you needed to sleep. You needed to dream.

Morpheus noticed your absence. And when he questioned Lucienne, she replied solemnly, “They haven’t been back since…then.”

She eyed Morpheus warily as she said that, as though just the suggestion of the argument would set him off again.

It did, but not in the way anyone would think.

“I see.” He hummed, eyes brimming with thought. Were you so apprehensive of meeting him again that you’d damage your own health?

Were you so afraid of him that-

Oh. You were scared of him.

How could he fix this?

And somewhere, Desire snickers, their twin sister right beside them.

~~~

requests and asks are open! (especially for snv!!)

(request here)

[writing-havoc]

Hello! I wanted to request, if you write for Nikolai, a scenario where the female reader has a moment of romantic tension with Nikolai. Although it can be anything that doesn't have distress.

Project

♡ Summary: You bump into Nikolai on the way to the library, he accompanies you

♡ Fandom: Shadow and Bone, Grishaverse

♡ Pairing: Nikolai Lanstov x Fem!Reader

♡ Warning(s): None

♡ WC: 2.1k

Hello! I absolutely do take requests for Nikola

My apologies for taking so long to get to this request </3. I wanted to read King of Scars and Rule of Wolves to try and get a better understanding of his character. Reading takes me a while. It takes a minute actually start a new book and then I became swamped with homework but!! I got it done

Hope you enjoy and that it is to your liking <3

Please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

David needed to be more careful about his notes.

It's not that he was careless, per se, he took good care to make sure they weren't in any immediate danger.

But man are his scribbles hard to read.

There are parts where you can clearly tell he was looking elsewhere rather than at the notebook while he was writing, the words slanting or bunching together or becoming a really long line that he wrote over. And there are parts that one might assume were penned by an upper-class woman.

At this point it's its own language, one that you can't add to your growing list quite yet. Genya, though, is fluent.

Too bad she isn't present at the moment.

David sat across from you. Well, not really sat. More like he got stuck between standing and sitting over a stool as he made calculations on a spare piece of paper, rapidly looking between diagrams and another book of his notes. He mumbled every once in a while, which made Genya smile. Genya was actually sitting, rambling about something that you weren't quite sure the topic of, your presence only acknowledged when she needed you to confirm something and when she first appeared to say hi.

You know it's not meant with malice though. You loved seeing them together. The look David got when Genya suggested something, his brain doing the calculations and seeing that it worked, made it easier to feel like there was hope somewhere.

Somewhere blond, preferably.

"David, can I take your notes to the Little Palace?" You asked, hoping you spoke loud enough to get past the haze he was working himself into. "I just need to cross reference something in the library and i'm not gonna be able to remember this chicken scratch."

"A chicken has not been near my notes ever." He said, eyebrows creasing. "No, you can't. I need them here for this."

You sighed, fixing your posture from where you were leaned over. 'Careful what you wish for', you supposed. "Alright, I'll be back with probably about fifty books in tow."

"There's a book cart just outside the library!" Genya called to you, a smile on her face. "Put them on there and they shouldn't be hard to wheel back!"

"I'll keep that in mind." You replied, voice monotone.

The way back was filled with attempts at trying to not forget what exactly you needed. You thought of various keywords in the notes and the project itself.

It was relatively simple. Just making improvements on Ravkas airships and implementing them in the most optimal and cost effective way possible.

You'll probably need various books actually. The whole "fifty books" joke didn't seem funny anymore. Off the top of your head there was a rather recent one about aerodynamics. One of the Squallers around here should be able to give a bit of insight about it as well. There may be a way to make the airships lighter, but that would be sacrificing strength and safety for the people on the aircraft.

Maybe you could use the idea of the bulletproof kefta and apply that to the hull. At least to the more critical parts. Though that would require a horrible amount of fabric and would just be awkward. They'd have to withstand ground artillery, which is exponentially more powerful than a bullet.

But you could always scrap the fabric and make a different material semi bulletproof.

Inside the walls, you bumped headfirst into a surprisingly stiff figure. You grabbed onto them tight and righted your legs, their arms gripping you as well.

"My apologies-" you looked up, coming face to face with the King "-moi tsar."

He smirked. "Don't fall for me quite yet. I haven't properly courted you. And I know ive told you many a time that you may call me Nikolai, if you so please. It feels awkward among friends to be referred to in such a formal manner."

You sighed, a smile tugging on your lips, disentangling yourself from his limbs. "If you insist, Nikolai."

He grinned, something wide and reaching the corners of his eyes. "Oh, I definitely do."

Nikolai let you go, only moving half a step out of reach. He smelled vaguely of petrichor and more strongly of smoke. But it wasn't choking, rather welcomed. It took you back quite a few years, sitting with your parents next to a great bon fire, smiles on your faces and stories exchanged.

"You seemed terribly distracted just before we engaged in such a lovely embrace." He prodded.

You sighed once more. "Yes. I was attempting to gather a list of books in my head for the reinforcing. It kept getting longer and longer as I thought about it."

"Quite the load, I take it?"

"Unfortunately so. I can think of two others as I stand here." You rubbed your hands over your eyes, dreading the task of reading them. They ached already.

"Ill lend a helping arm. Or two, considering the grave look on your face."

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips, a deep breath filling your lungs with more smoke. A thousand thoughts were playing in your mind, and then a flit of sudden embarrassment overcame your skin.

"My apologies, Nikolai." You took your hands away from your eyes, looking up and finding his trained on you. They looked greener today. "I don't mean to say the work is too much, or too hard, really, I don't. Im just complaining-"

"Allow me to stop you there to say, it's alright. It's to my understanding that you didn't get enough sleep last night?" Nikolai began walking, a slow pace meant to nudge you along, and you followed immediately.

"I..." You wondered how he knew that, and then realized you had complained to Tamar earlier this morning. Your heart fluttered. "No, I didn't. A cold breeze kept coming in through to my chambers. Drove me crazy trying to find where it was coming from."

He made a noise in understanding. "I take it you found it?"

"I did," your shoulder bumped into his arm, "not until I realized the moon had nearly run its course through the sky."

"Happens to the best of us, unfortunately."

Nikolai opened the door to the library, holding it open for you. You grabbed your kefta and playfully curtsied. "Why, thank you."

"My pleasure." It caught you off guard how sincere he was. Still, you smiled, walking through the door and immediately scanning the aisles and aisles of books.

"What are we looking for?" Nikolai asked.

You turned to face him, his eyes doing just that same as yours before. "Nikolai, I cannot ask that of you-"

"Oh but you didn't ask me anything. I'm volunteering my services. You should be grateful, you know. It's not everyday that someone gets to order a king around."

You rolled your eyes, waiting a moment, two, for him to back out. And when he didn't, you swallowed a confession and began to rattle off the list of books you accumulated and the ideas you had with them.

Nikolai went a few rows down, apparently knowing exactly what book you would need about various ways wind behaves given the shape of an object. You wanted to get advice straight from a Squaller, but apparently almost all of them where spread throughout Ravka and those that remained seemed to be highly busy elsewhere, and you would like answers sooner rather than later.

Most the other books you needed were more rudimentary than anything. Little things to refresh your memory. The math was going to be the hardest part.

Some were for inspiration. They broached a similar topic and held actual experiments and diagrams about how they worked. Hopefully they would give you an idea or two.

You reached on your tip toes, fingers just barely grazing the underneath of the last book you needed. The books were tightly packed, which you could feel but didn't know the extent of as you looked down, your muscles stretching to get just a few more millimeters.

When it was finally teetering on the edge, you gave one last tug and looked up. However, you barely had time to realize that three other books were coming down along side it.

You braced for impact, ready to feel the stabbing pain of book corners jabbing into your skull and the nape of your neck. You felt a different presence over you.

The feeling of cloth, warmth and a Kings coat barely felt through your kefta but ever present.

Quickly you turned, seeing Nikolai standing with his arms crossed over your head, a book perfectly balanced there.

"Ow." He said, moving a hand and grabbing the book. He looked at the cover and gave a short chortle, showing the cover. "I believe this, is what you were looking for?"

But your mind couldn't catch up. That smell of smoke filled your nose, the undertone of petrichor back in full swing and paper to boot. The library was silent, a faint chattering heard from outside the door as people passed.

Nikolais hazel eyes stared at you, definutely more green given the palette of his outfit and the browns of the books. The longer you looked the wider the centers became, flickering in size when he looked from your eyes and down your nose, over your cheek, to the corners of your mouth and over your lips, back to your eyes. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, trying to leap out and into the hand that held that damned book.

He knew what he was doing, letting you see it all. Nikolai is a king, master of pretending. His jacket stuttered in and out, heart beating so hard you could just barely see it pick up beneath his coat. This was genuine.

You reached out to the book, fingers touching his warm ones. Without breaking eye contact, you muttered a small "thank you", and watched as his eyes creased.

"My pleasure." He leaned forward, bunting his forehead into yours for a mere moment before leaning back.

"Is your shoulder okay?" You asked, watching him roll it.

He stood still. "I've faced worse. I'll be alright."

He surveyed the area around him, the three books you didn't need scattered on the floor while another two were dropped at his feet. You could feel the four you grabbed resting against your foot where you nearly stepped on them.

"Left quite a mess, haven't we?" You said, tapping the book to your chest. Your heart was still pounding, and you didn't even want to imagine how hot your face felt. Nikolais own was back down to its usual light tan, but his eyes were still like saucers in the center, his breath a slight stutter in his coat. Just barely there.

"Just a little." He leaned down and grabbed two, walking forward and pausing in front of you again. You moved out of the way, leaning down and grabbing the last of the ones that fell.

You handed it to him for him to put back. He allowed his hand to brush yours. You both snickered at the childish flirting, leaning down to pick up the plethora of books you acquired.

Nikolai took two of your books without a word, leaving you with only three in your hands.

"Are you sure you don't have anywhere to be?"

"You're actually quite lucky. I was on my way to Kirigans when you greeted me with that little hug of yours."

You knew it was a lie. But if he was willing to miss whatever it was he was intending on going to to make a detour to Lazlayon, then it couldn't have been that important.

"If you're sure."

"My dear y/n." He just couldn't stop smiling. "I can be sure of anything, if you would will it so."

And isnt that the perfect way to stop your heart? You rolled your eyes. "Such a romantic, you are."

"I hear a challenge."

"Oh saints please no."

You dread to see the lengths he would go to prove just how romantic he could be. But for now, you'll accept this.

[coraniaid]

I'll admit that I sometimes get very annoyed when other people suggest in-universe workarounds for Buffy's Season 6 money problems -- as if these were just something bad that the writers let happen to Buffy by mistake and not the entire thematic point of the season -- or when they argue that the Watchers Council should have given Buffy a regular salary the way they did Giles -- as if Giles being paid by the Council at all wasn't just a throwaway joke from Checkpoint that the show obviously never intended to be taken seriously and isn't even remotely consistent with the way he's written up to this point or after -- or more generally whenever they suggest that bad things happening to Buffy are some sort of writing mistake that can only be explained by the "fact" that all the Buffy writers are men (a weirdly common claim on here that denies the substantial contributions made to the show by Marti Noxon and Jane Espsenson and Tracey Forbes and Rebecca Kirshner) rather than being ... you know, the actual story being told.

Yes, often the plotting of Buffy isn't very tight and the worldbuilding could easily be improved. It is a bit silly that Willow and Tara live rent free in Buffy's house in the same season she is meant to be becoming an adult who needs to get a job to pay her bills; it doesn't really make any sense that there is an entire Council of Watchers who seem to find the actual Slayer herself a slightly tedious nuissance when she's the entire reason their organization exists; it very obviously is unfair that Buffy suffers from having to be a hero who regularly saves the world. But the story is not improved by making things easier for Buffy. A better version of Season 6 might fix things so that Willow and Tara being unable to give Buffy money made sense, but it wouldn't take those money problems away altogether. If Slaying was a career you could make a living from the central metaphor of the show would collapse. A version of the show where Buffy had a large support network and no financial or romantic problems and never argued with her family or friends would be incredibly boring.

However, when I say things that might superficially seem to resemble these sorts of complaints ("why doesn't Giles find Faith somewhere to live?", for example, or "why doesn't Jenny buy herself a laptop and work on spells at home?"), I think you'll find it's actually very clever and incisive media analysis. Honestly I should get some sort of medal for it.

[vickyvicarious]

Lucy wrote her memorandum so no one else will get in trouble through her, and if I remember correctly Jonathan too at one point said that he's writing about what is happening as facts for someone else to benefit from if he perishes...

You have excellent timing, I was actually planning to talk about yesterday's Lucy/Jonathan parallels when I came back to see this. Yes! In fact, there are several lines which call back to Jonathan quotes:

"If this book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye." Jonathan, 4 May "I write this and leave it to be seen, so that no one may by any chance get into trouble through me. This is an exact record of what took place to-night." Lucy, 17 September

I'm pretty sure Jonathan has a few other similar lines but this is the first one. And it becomes apparent that his journal is written for multiple purposes, including keeping his own sanity intact, serving as a record he can consult, a place he can be honest about his emotions... but from very early on it is also intended as a resource that can be seen by others. Jonathan's intention is for them to know the truth of what happened to him. But in a way at the end, the diary is also intended to serve the purpose of countermanding his own assistance in getting Dracula to England. He doesn't want anyone to 'get into trouble through him' either, it's what provokes him to make the shovel attack. (Alas, then he breaks down and his memory loss and trauma lead him to choose not to open it.)

And of course, Jonathan also has several different times he emphasizes that he is making an exact record. He's not the only one, of course. The Captain of the Demeter does the same. All three narrators who suffer from Dracula preying upon them for extended amounts of time take care to say this.

"I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!" Jonathan, 5 May I have a dim half-remembrance of long, anxious times of waiting and fearing; darkness in which there was not even the pain of hope to make present distress more poignant: and then long spells of oblivion, and the rising back to life as a diver coming up through a great press of water. Since, however, Dr. Van Helsing has been with me, all this bad dreaming seems to have passed away; the noises that used to frighten me out of my wits—the flapping against the windows, the distant voices which seemed so close to me, the harsh sounds that came from I know not where and commanded me to do I know not what—have all ceased. [...] But I need not be watched; I am well enough to be left alone. Thank God for mother's sake, and dear Arthur's, and for all our friends who have been so kind! Lucy, 17 September

Lucy is more willing to confess to the strange things she thinks here, for the first time. Jonathan wasn't, in the beginning, and we aren't sure whether he ever fully did (he certainly had nightmares he wasn't talking about, regardless of how open he was about more confirmable experiences). But they both experience similar uncertainty about the reality of what is happening to them. They both suffer memory loss - at different points, maybe in somewhat different ways, but also maybe not that different? They also both hope to be saved for the sake of those who love them.

Something made me start up, a low, piteous howling of dogs somewhere far below in the valley, which was hidden from my sight. Louder it seemed to ring in my ears, and the floating motes of dust to take new shapes to the sound as they danced in the moonlight. I felt myself struggling to awake to some call of my instincts; nay, my very soul was struggling, and my half-remembered sensibilities were striving to answer the call. I was becoming hypnotised! Jonathan, 24 June I kept my eyes fixed on the window, but the wolf drew his head back, and a whole myriad of little specks seemed to come blowing in through the broken window, and wheeling and circling round like the pillar of dust that travellers describe when there is a simoon in the desert. I tried to stir, but there was some spell upon me, and dear mother's poor body, which seemed to grow cold already—for her dear heart had ceased to beat—weighed me down; and I remembered no more for a while. The time did not seem long, but very, very awful, till I recovered consciousness again. Somewhere near, a passing bell was tolling; the dogs all round the neighbourhood were howling; and in our shrubbery, seemingly just outside, a nightingale was singing. Lucy, 17 September

Both Jonathan and Lucy are hypnotized by vampires in their swirling specks of dust form. Both begin to come back to their senses as they hear dogs howling.

"If there were any one to talk to I could bear it, but there is no one. I have only the Count to speak with, and he!—I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place." Jonathan, 8 May "What shall I do? what can I do? How can I escape from this dreadful thing of night and gloom and fear?" Jonathan, 24 June "What am I to do? what am I to do? I am back in the room with mother. I cannot leave her, and I am alone, save for the sleeping servants, whom some one has drugged. Alone with the dead!" Lucy, 17 September

They both speak of being alone with the dead, though in Lucy's case she doesn't realize the full extent of the 'dead' who are with her. But both bring this up in the context of being unable to speak/communicate with other people, and in both cases this is because Dracula has deliberately isolated them. By trapping Jonathan in the castle, by drugging the maids...

I included the second Jonathan quote because I love how despite this completely understandable despair and uncertainty, both he and Lucy take action almost immediately after writing those lines. Jonathan decides to make the climb through the window the very next day, and Lucy resolves to hide her memorandum in order to make sure it is found. They both have very limited resources/options, but neither sinks into despair for too long. They fight till the end.

"The chances are desperate, but my need is more desperate still. I shall risk it. At the worst it can only be death; and a man's death is not a calf's, and the dreaded Hereafter may still be open to me. God help me in my task! Good-bye, Mina, if I fail; good-bye, my faithful friend and second father; good-bye, all, and last of all Mina!" Jonathan, 25 June "At least God's mercy is better than that of these monsters, and the precipice is steep and high. At its foot a man may sleep—as a man. Good-bye, all! Mina!" Jonathan, 30 June "I feel I am dying of weakness, and have barely strength to write, but it must be done if I die in the doing. [...] Good-bye, dear Arthur, if I should not survive this night. God keep you, dear, and God help me!" Lucy, 17 September

They both fully understand that they are facing death, and in fact are more likely to die than to survive. Both are certain the risk is worth it and press forward despite the danger/their fear or weakness. Both fear something worse than death happening to them, and appeal to god for a death as a human... though Lucy's pleas are less explicit about this because she doesn't remember enough to be able to verbalize any distinct other possibility.

And of course, when convinced they are about to die, both of them dedicate their final words to their loved ones.

.

And that's just the quotes that stuck out to me. There's also other things, like:

A shared feeling of inevitability (in Jonathan's case, externally imposed by Dracula's deadline/the threat of the vampire ladies; in Lucy's, it comes as a result of her long health struggles and the impending danger tonight she cannot stave off alone)

Being menaced by wolves under Dracula's command, who don't actively hurt either narrator but do serve to trap them in with him for the night

Everything about their nightmares, especially the timing of Jonathan's nightmares being specifically mentioned on the same day as Lucy's nightmare becomes a waking one

Each of their avenues of protection/escape being eroded or blocked one by one, leading them to lose hope for their survival. Sort of overlaps with that shared feeling of inevitability, but I wanna emphasize how Dracula is intentionally cutting them off repeatedly as they try various things.

I mentioned the dogs already, but Lucy's two encounters with Dracula in swirling speck form echo Jonathan's two close calls with the vampire ladies who first showed that form, except Jonathan was saved both times and Lucy wasn't. Even when she came out of the trance for a while, it was too late.

It was a lot.

[blackwolfstabs]

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 6

TIME

Tara listens to her sister and mother fight… again, but when things get reckless, she intervenes.

Tara - age 11 Sam - age 17 references from my day 3: punishment

Tara sat at the top of the staircase, knees up to her chest with her arms crossed on top, listening to her sister and her mother argue in the kitchen. She should be used to it by now, but she never could shake the anxiety in her chest or the race of her heart. It wasn’t that she feared the shouting or the insults or the aggression her mother showed, as much of a stranger as that made her seem. She was scared that their mother would throw Sam out of the house. The more they fought, the more venomous their words became, and that scared Tara to no end. She couldn’t stay alone with her mother if Sam was kicked out. She just couldn’t. And so, whenever they’d fight, she’d sit somewhere she could hear what was happening. She had already decided that if that threat was made, she would get herself involved.

Over her dead body would anyone take her Sammy away. She didn’t care what she’s done, she was still her sister. She was still her number 1.

“How about an apology for all the shit you’ve put me through?!” Christina shouted.

Then Sam returned with a hot tone, “Me? Me, have an apology? You lie to me for years, drive Dad out, get wasted every night, and then take it out on me and Tara! Where’s my apology? Why am I supposed to apologize?”

“Look at what you’re doing, Samantha!” was the offended reply.

Tara could hear her mother’s hand slap the countertop.

“At least I take my shit somewhere else! I don’t sit here and abuse you or Tara for it! She doesn’t deserve that!” Her older sister spat. “You're a mother, so act like it! Get some damn perspective!”

Tara could only imagine the expression that had just come over their parent’s face at those words.

One more moment of tense silence, and then… “How did you become such a fucking brat?”

Christina’s voice had dropped low, making an icy shiver run down the listener’s spine.

“It’s not ‘how?’, you’ve got that figured out, it’s ‘why?’” Sam’s voice had dropped too, but she sounded more disappointed than offended. “Look in the mirror and you’ll find the answer.”

Tara held her breath.

“How dare you—?”

“No, how dare you?!” Sam started yelling again. “When did you think it was okay to give up on your family, your children?! It’s your fault!”

“Samantha Carpenter!”

“No!” she cut her off. “You don’t seem to get it, so let me spell it out for you! I am not responsible for who you loved and how you loved, and neither is Tara! Stop treating us like it!” She didn’t pause to accept any feedback. “You think getting wasted is going to fix it? You think this is going to fix it?!”

Tara jumped with a small yelp that had her slapping her hand over her mouth as the sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the house. She knew Sam had just thrown a wine glass. Something bad was about to happen, she could feel it. And she feared it would leave her alone forever…

“How am I supposed to tell Tara you’ve changed your mind?!” Her older sister screamed, holding a different emotion than anger. She almost sounded like she was about to cry.

Her mother only replied, “You’re just like your father!” 

“Maybe. But right now, you’re being more of a devil than he was.”

Devil? The youngest member of the household felt her chest start to burn that led to fresh tears coming into her eyes. Their father wasn’t a devil… Why would she even say that? Sam loved their father, how could she call him such a horrible thing?

All was silent, and for a moment, Tara thought about going downstairs to see what the kitchen looked like now. But then she went cold.

“Go ahead,” she heard Sam dare. “Hit me.” 

More silence, but Tara’s heart dropped. ‘Don’t.’

“If you hate me that much, then do it! Hit me!”

‘Don’t do it. Please, Mom, don’t hit her.’ She braced her spine against the wall, biting her lip in anticipation for what might or might not happen. 

“You’ve already done it before! Remember last year? When you beat me with a belt in the garage?” Her sister raved on, “So, come on! Hit me! ‘Cause you can’t hurt me anymore than the truth did.”

She had hit her before? Beat her? At that point, Tara couldn’t wait any longer. She bolted from her place and ran down the stairs, nearly skidding as she navigated to the kitchen. “No, don’t hit her!” She got both of their attention, which they seemed taken aback that she had been listening in on their argument. But who couldn’t? They were screaming at each other. She desperately looked at her mother, “I don’t mind if you drink!” Then she looked over at Sam, “I don’t mind if you go out!” Her tears became thicker as her voice started to crack, looking back to her mother, “But please, don’t hit her!”

Christina glared at her. “Tara, go to your room,” she ordered, “This doesn’t concern you.”

Her youngest daughter whimpered, hesitating as she looked over at her sister again. Part of her wanted to obey so she wouldn’t have to be yelled at, but the other part wanted to stay. She didn’t want Sam to be hit or verbally abused anymore. “It’s not fair, Mom…” Now, she began to cry.

Her parent sighed. “None of this is fair, Tara. Life’s not fair.”

Then, Sam snapped, her voice dropping as she stared at the older. “Yeah, but she doesn’t deserve this,” she growled.

“You, keep your mouth shut!”

But she ignored her, softening her demeanor enough to go to Tara. She pulled her in close as her little sister broke down in a small sob. “Shh, it’s okay,” she spoke softly as she stroked her hair. “Just go to your room, it’s okay.”

“Oh, don’t make me out to be the bad guy!” Christina barked, “She’s not a baby, Samantha, don’t pacify her! She needs to grow up at some point.”

“She needs a mother who will be there for her, instead of getting too drunk to even remember she has a daughter!”

Their mother’s eyes went dark and her jaw clenched. If looks could kill, Sam would be gone in a heartbeat. “Get out of this house,” she demanded.

Tara felt her sister stiffen against her.

“I don’t want to see you anymore,” she finished coldly.

And that’s when she lost it. “No!” Tara grabbed onto Sam’s shirt and clung to it as she blinked up at her. “Don’t leave!” she pleaded. “Don’t! Please, Sammy!” But Sam just stared at their mother, which made her turn her face to her as well. “I’ll go to my room, Mom! I will! Just please don’t kick her out!”

Christina scoffed. “I’m not kicking her out,” she assured, but her eyes were like daggers as she held her eldest daughter’s fiery gaze, “I just want her out of the house for a few hours.” She moved forward and grabbed her youngest child, tearing her away from Sam. “Let her go, Tara!”

The strength of her grip pinched Tara’s arms as she reluctantly was forced away. Her mother then trapped her to keep her from running back. “You’ll come back, right?” she whimpered, tears running down her face for the fear that she wouldn’t.

Samantha took a step forward, never breaking away from the stare she put on her mother. “If I find out you hurt her in any way,” she warned, everything from her demeanor to her voice resembling the one person that gave her such a dangerous reputation, “You’ll see just how much I really am like him.”

Christina didn’t seem fazed. “She’s my daughter. I’ll deal with her the way I see fit,” she replied.

“Your daughter. Remember that.”

Tara didn’t understand, but she didn’t care. She squirmed a little in her mother’s hold, but to no avail, for the grip just grew tighter. “Y-you both just need some time…” She exchanged glances with both of them. “To calm down… a-and apologize… Right?”

Her mother just sighed, but Tara could see the trembling of her sister’s jaw and the tears glossing over her eyes as she refused to look at her.

Sam inhaled shakily, and the heartbreak could be read clear on her face as she answered. “We’re out of time.”

That haunted Tara. Terribly. A cold, empty feeling drowned her. “S-Sammy?”

But her Sammy couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the desperation on her baby sister’s tear-stricken face. 

Time… So much time…

Lived.

Divided.

Destroyed.

Lost.

She turned around and led herself out the front door, slamming it on everything they once were. Happy. Innocent. Beautiful. Connected.

All of that was gone. And they were out of time to try and make it right again.

today's been kind of rough, so this isn't my best work, but I think it's decent enough.

All my best! ♡ - parker

[depressopax]

Hii if its ok could I request some married life with Mike Ehrmantraut headcanons? Or like how he would go about proposing to (gender neutral) reader he’s been dating for awhile, I love all your work with Mike! 🩵

Thank you for the kind words and the request!! <3 It’s been a while since I wrote about Mike now, so I had fun writing this! :)  It’s a bit short thoo 😭 ALSO HIII FELLOW MIKE FAN  Hope you enjoy the fic!! <3

Pairing: Mike Ehrmantraut x gender-neutral reader Genre: Fluff, headcanons Warning(s): None (lmk if I should add any!) Words: 0.6k Summary: Married life with Mike would include... English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ||

Proposal 💍

I think I said this in my relationship HC’s for Mike, but… He’s the king of slow burn romance lol

Not because he’s insecure in what he feels for you - he does love you more than anything

Rather because he’s scared. Scared to move too quickly, to scare you away, and simply because his work “doesn’t allow it”.

Fuck it, let’s say he somehow quits his job for Fring… Then…

He’d be very quick to put a ring on your finger.

He realizes that his criminal lifestyle is the reason as to why he’s been so scared of a bigger commitment.

But now there’s nothing holding him back.

He has money, so he makes sure to find the perfect proposal ring.

Finally deciding on one, he tries finding the right moment.

He cringes at cheesy couples etc, which is pretty double standard-ish, considering he’s one cheesy mf when it comes to you lol

He takes you out to a fancy restaurant and then goes for a walk in the dark

After building the perfect romantic tension, he surprises you by kneeling before you

When he show you the ring, you can only think one thing: “Finally.” 

He can barely ask before you answer. “Will you ma-” “YES!” “...Can I ask first, at least?”

The two of you couldn’t be more happy - finally being able to show love for each other without secrets.

Friends and family of you and Mike are the first ones to find out. 

…And you can’t stop flexing with the ring to every person you meet lol Mike will be like: “Stop bragging with the ring”, but secretly loves when you do

Wedding 💒

Half a year after the engagement, you decide it’s time for a wedding.

Mike is a simple man, for him, it would be enough with a church wedding, or even just in the city hall

But you had bigger plans

And who is he to disagree?

If you want a big white wedding - he’ll fix it. PERIOD. 

Seeing you all dressed in white/in a suit is enough to make his heart melt.

You marry each other surrounded by friends and family

With Kaylee being the flower girl 🥹 (Btw, her and Stacey both adores you and are relieved to see someone finally give Mike the happiness he deserves <3)

The ceremony is beautiful and afterwards you have after-wedding party

You even successfully force Mike to dance with you lol

Honeymoon 🏖

Mike takes you on a beautiful honeymoon.

He wanted it to be somewhere adventurous, but settled for a nice place.

Probably hiring the best room at some beach hotel

You spend an entire month celebrating your love together, going to spas, hiking and exploring the city and… Other things ;)

None of you want to go back home, but then again - you’re married now. So it feels ok.

Married life 💕

You live in Mike’s house, but he eventually suggests moving to a bigger place, in a more calm neighborhood - and closer to Stacey and Kaylee.

You buy a nice two-floor house together

Cheesy as Mike is with you, he def does the “carrying his s/o over the threshold to the house” thing 😌✨

The two of you probably get a dog or cat, depending on your preferences - screw it, maybe both!

You are happy to return from work everyday and have Mike waiting for you

He kinda become a “househusband” lol

I feel like he’s a clean freak, so he def gets these impulses to deep clean the house when you’re away at work - and that way he can distract himself from missing you too much

He also spoils you with gifts and dinner

Movie nights <3

Mike has had an intense, dangerous life but now finally can settle for peace and calm, together with the person he loves. 

He is so happy he met you and grateful he got the opportunity to love someone again.

Thanks for reading! Btw, I'm currently writing on my first ever chapter novel fanfiction! It's a Nacho spin-off and an La casa de papel & Better call Saul crossover! Would mean a lot if you giys wanna check it out an leave a like or comment! Thanks <3

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