#so I apologize for the water marks but I am trying my best!

[98percentofthewnbaisgay]

Stewie introducing herself !

[cosmonauter]

best friend james without boundaries again!!

mdni, this has smut in it, i hope you guys enjoy it :))

sleepovers with james are the best thing on this planet, especially if you haven't seen eachother the whole day. meeting up with him after a stressful day, filled with studying and reading about different potion ingredients, is always such a relaxing feeling.

the way he whines about missing you, and thinking of hugging and touching you the whole day.

the way he cradles you to his broad and strong chest, thick arms wrapping around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

the way he begs you to sleep in his bed tonight, because he had "such a bad day without you, i need you tonight, love, i can't sleep without you!".

so of course, as his best friend, it is your duty to make him feel better, and try your best at making him forget about the bad day he was having.

-

you're lying in his bed, wearing only his shirt and boxers, humming a tune that got stuck in your head, while sirius and peter are palying chess on the opposite side of the room.

"don't you think it's a little weird, sleeping in prongs' clothes and letting him kiss and touch you like he's your boyfriend? not that i'm judging, but i've just been wondering", sirius interrupts your little tune.

you sigh, tired of answering this question every day, "no sirius, why would it be weird? jamie and i just understand eachother and we don't get weird about cuddling and hugging eachother. that's just our love language!"

"alright, if you say so..", sirius shakes his head, as if he's disappointed. maybe he made a wrong move against peter?

suddenly the door to the restroom opens, and out steps james in his low-hanging pants, that make his v-line visible. he's still wet from his shower, his abs and chest glittering from the light reflecting of the little water drops.

he swiftly moves towards his bed, tugging the blanket up and getting under it, immediately pulling you to himself.

"jamie, you're still drenched!", you squeek out.

he smiles at you and apologises, "sorry love, didn't mean to get you wet."

sirius coughs and remus' eyes widen behind his book. " oh my god, you guys are such perverts!", you exclaim, "jamie, close the curtains, i don't want to see them anymore!"

james chuckles as he's closing the bed, laughing at the gobsmacked looks on his mates faces, "good night, boys."

-

you wake up to james moving against your back, " jamie?"

he mumbles your name, while rubbing up against you. suddenly you notice, that a very particular part of him was indeed in dire need of attention. you call out his name again, and start turning around to shake him awake.

as you finally manage to wake him up, his eyes widen and you can immediately see the shame and apologies swimming in his eyes, "jamie, don't even worry about it! we're best friends, if you need something, i'm happy to help you!"

"are you sure? i don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything", he frowns at you.

"i've never been surer, really, don't worry about it!"

-

james never really expected to be in this situation. of course he thought about it and hoped sometimes, but he never dreamed that one day, he would get to do this.

you're lying on you back, his shirt and boxers nowhere in sight, letting him rub your chest and nipples with one hand, while holding himself up slightly with the other.

"oh my god, this feels so good", he moans out, rutting his swollen cock against your bare body.

goosebumps cover your whole body, and james wants to kiss every inch of you, mark you as his, and make you forget about any other male in your life besides him.

"you make me crazy. i'm going crazy because of you, fuck", he mutters into your neck, continuing to play with your nipples, squeezing and pulling them.

you moan out his name, and james thinks that nothing on this world will ever sound that good again. "you're so good, love. you're the best friend anyone could ever ask for, oh love, i- fuuck, i am so fucking lucky."

one of your hands runs down your body, nearing his dick. you wrap it around him, and james almost loses his control. the way your hand looks so small around his tip makes him nearly cum.

"come on, jamie.. you're doing so good, you're such a good boy, thank you so much."

james blushes and hides his face in your neck. whining, he pulls some of your skin in his mouth and starts sucking.

"jamie, stop! everyone will see, they're going to know what you did to me!"

"oh fuck, i want them to know. i want everyone to know you're mine. shit, tell me you're mine", james whimpers and starts rutting against you even faster.

you moan out and he thinks, that after this night he will not be able to live his life normally anymore. "i'm yours jamie, of course i am."

james can't hold back anymore, he really tries, but he just can't. " i'm cumming, oh fuck, i'm cumming." rope after rope of his cum cover your lower body, some of it landing on your pussy.

he looks at you with wide eyes and and apologises, promising you that he's "going to eat you out so good, just wait a moment. thank you, love, thank you so much", kissing your face and lips like he can't get enough of it. and he really can't, he's obsessed with you beneath him.

his lips start wandering from your collarbone downwards, and he feels you bucking up into him.

smirking against your skin, he starts leaving little bites here and licking over your body there.

finally arriving at your cunt, he places a little kiss right at the center of it and inhales. it smells so incredibly addicting, and james is sure, that nothing could pull him away from you at this moment.

he feels blessed, he feels so good in a way he has never felt like before. he thinks this is what going mad feels like.

"sweetheart, why have you been hiding this from me? i could have had this so long ago", he moans against your pussy starting to lick into you.

this is definitely what going crazy feels like. james feels crazy, he's going crazy.

he can't describe how he's feeling right now, every little emotion inside of him mixing together, making him incapable of forming together a sentence.

"oh my god, you, you taste so good, oh fuck", james is eating you out, like it's his last meal, moaning against you and grinding into the bed.

slowly, he drags a hand up and starts teasing your little hole with one of his fingers. "baby, i'm gonna stick my finger inside, okay? i really wanna stick it inside, please baby? let me put my finger inside you?"

he's whining, he knows that he sounds really pathetic right now, but it's you, and you are his exception for everything. you are the only one allowed to see him in this postion. no one else, ever.

your legs start shaking and you clench your pussy, as he finally puts his fingers to good use. james keeps kissing and sucking on your clit, enjoying the taste of you a to concerning amount.

he knows you're about to cum, he doesn't know how, but he feels it inside of him, like a ticking time bomb.

"come on, my love. grind it out on me, yes, just like that. feels so good, fuck, i could do this all night."

as you moan and cum on his mouth, james realizes that he will never get enough of you, now that he was finally allowed to taste you.

as you finally catch your breath again, james looks up at you with a face of worship.

"you taste so good, i'm genuinely addicted to you now." he huffs against your pussy, starting to give it little kisses here and there.

he licks your oversensitive flesh, as you whine about it being "too soon, jamie, my pussy feels so sensitive, please be careful."

"just one more time, darling, i just need one more taste", as he starts up again, your poor little pussy twitching against his lips.

i hope you liked it!! if you have any tips, please don't hesitate to help me out!!

also this is my first time writing smut, so please tell me how you liked it :))

[banj0possum]

I immediately apologize for the bad English!

How does Caspian plan to keep the fem!reader underwater? Or does he have another plan? thank you, your work is very nice🛐

ill be making this gn since its a part 2 but if you want a one-off thing with a fem!reader, just request it! :3

Also sorry for the long hiatus again but here's the long awaited part 2 ! yaay you're not dead !! :D

Yandere!Siren x GN Reader Pt. 2

CW: Kidnapping, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Non-con licking (reader is asleep), idk Caspian being a delulu icon

🌊 You wake up with a throbbing headache and a vague memory of what transpired before you blacked out.

🌊 The feeling of overwhelming pressure and deepness comes back to you, memories start to come back as you see a red mark on your arm.

🌊 You remember now, the screams and cries of your classmates ring in your ears before the memory of being dragged down to the depths hit you like a wave.

🌊 a splash of water pulled you out of your thoughts, it was then you looked around at the place you were in.

🌊 It looked like you were in a cave illuminated by algae and glowing sea creatures. the cavernous area was sandy and a bit wet with a deep pool which led to an underwater tunnel, it was the only entrance and exit to the cave from what you can see.

🌊 Behind you was a house built out of a shipwreck, the broken boards of the deck repaired with random planks and cloths.

🌊 "Honey~ I know you're a bit out of sorts right now but uhm..could you help me out a bit~?" a familiar voice echoed throughout the cave.

🌊 You gasp and instinctively stand up and back away from where the voice came from. Caspian was lying on the shore, a net full of what seems to be canned food and fish tied around his waist like a satchel.

🌊 "My treasure~! I know you're excited to explore your new home, but can you help me get to shore first~" Caspian coos as he smiles at you awkwardly, his large tail flopping on the sand.

🌊 You grab a piece of driftwood and hold it like a weapon. "D-Don't come any closer!" you yell at him nervously, afraid of what he might do after you saw his capabilities, and his sharp teeth..

🌊 "My sweet, you have nothing to worry about~! Why would I ever hurt you~? Those mean humans tried to hurt us! You'd never do that to me now would you~?" He tries to calm you down.

🌊 It takes a while for you to calm down considering how confused and scared you were, but with no way out and Caspians lack of intention to hurt you, the only thing left to do was to just sit and try to think logically about the situation.

🌊 Caspian tries to help you make sense of your little predicament, it was mostly him making an excuse to hold you close because "Am I not able to help you relax my treasure~?"

🌊 So you're in a cave after getting kidnapped brought to safety by a mermaid, how fun...

🌊 You has no choice but to accept your new lifestyle, after all, the only out was an underwater cavern, and you had no idea how deep or long it was. Caspian might not be the best at moving on land, but without him, you'd drown if you attempt to leave.

🌊 Once you told the siren that you weren't going anywhere soon unfortunately, He lit up and gave you a big, soaking wet hug. "Oh my treasure! You'll be happy here, I promise~!" He peppers your face with kisses, some making you shiver at the thought of his sharp teeth being so close to your flesh.

🌊 He'd go out every day to get food for you and him, sometimes surprising you with gifts!

🌊 He knows you like reading, so any book or parchment that he finds is immediately brought to you so you won't be so bored <3

🌊 More often than not they're too wet to actually read, but you appreciate the effort you suppose.

🌊 You also had to explain what cooking is to Caspian and that humans can't eat fish raw...and alive..

🌊 Get ready to be showered with pearls and pretty shells and treasure! Caspian is a bit picky when it comes to his own horde so anything that he considers nice but not on par with his tastes goes to you~!

🌊 He would always ask to sleep with you in your bed, and he doesn't take no for an answer.

🌊 "It's cold my treasure~! Could you warm me up~?"

🌊 "It gets so lonely in the water~ May I stay in bed with you my love~?"

🌊 "But I got all those nice things for you~!"

🌊 He would keep whining and fussing until you agree. He doesn't care at all that your sheets are all now soaked.

🌊 If you tell him to dry off first, he will! But you'll have to pay him with a kiss~

🌊 He may or may not sniff your hair while you sleep...and maybe lick your neck..

🌊 He can't get himself to sleep sometimes, he'd just watch you sleep the whole time. What can he say? You're too irresistible~!

🌊 Sometimes he'd even whisper sweet things into your ear, promising you the world if you'd let him.

🌊 More often than not, he sings you to sleep. The anxieties of never seeing your family again and living off of just fish and other sea creatures was getting to you, not to mention the many hours of being alone in a cave.

🌊 His siren song lulled you to bed every night. No matter how much you distanced yourself away from him, he was always able to calm you down with his voice.

🌊 "Hush now my dear~...You'll learn to like it here~ And one day, we'll be married and live happily ever after~ Just like in your stories~ Just you wait~..."

[temiizpalace]

Ahhh ok I love your page so far and this is my first time making an ask so I hope it’s ok. I’ve been craving a little drama for a bit and I had this idea a bit ago and I just wanted to share it :)

Cater, Leona, Riddle taking their s/o home for a Holliday/school break. Reader is sweet & respectful but isn’t afraid to put someone in their place, even royalty. A lil bit of fluff at the end would also be nice. You have creative liberty, it’s your story after all :) don’t forget to eat and drink water, and feel free to ignore this if you want <3

☆┆KNOW YOUR PLACE!

SUMMARY: your partner takes you to his hometown for the break, but you run into someone who thinks they’re a head above the rest..

CHARACTERS: RIDDLE, CATER, LEONA

GENRE: fluff

ROMANTIC

WARNINGS: people are asses

NOTES: i love this idea!! it was a lot of fun to write and i appreciate the request 🫶🫶 hopefully this was up to your standards and you enjoy!

reader is g/n, implied to be yuu

🌹┆RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

“are you sure you’re okay with this..?”

riddle asks hesitantly, standing by the mirror as he fiddled with his fingers. since you had no place to go to over the break, riddle had invited you to his hometown. granted, he was quite nervous in asking you thanks to the relationship with his mother, but the excitement was immeasurable once you agreed to join him.

“of course i am.” you smile, taking his hand gently. “i understand how difficult it is for you to go back, so i want to be there with you.” riddle blushes at your words of kindness, unused to such affections (especially at NRC). he clears his throat and squeezes your hand. “i-if you insist.. we best be on our way then. mother expects us to be there by 8:30 on the dot.”

riddle leads you into the mirror, holding your hand the whole way through. as you stepped into the queendom of roses, you take in the breathtaking sights of the small village in front of you. “i live close by, have you gotten your gift prepared?” he asks, strolling past the various shops and bakeries.

you pause in your tracks, tensing up at the question. “we needed gifts..?” you ask, feeling part of your soul leave your body. riddle stares at you with a dumbfounded expression, utterly shocked at the fact you had come unprepared. he sighs, taking a deep breath. “thank goodness we’re by the shops. on any other occasion i would have your head..” he mumbles, causing you to awkwardly laugh and walk inside the store.

it was a small store selling small things, like purses. however, it’s not the expensive name brand purses that’d cost both your arms, it was cute and little cozy handmade bags that screamed home just by looking at them. you were in awe at the intricate stitches made onto the bag, not to mention impressed by such a simple design. “do you think your mother would like this?”

riddle turned to look at the bag, examining it thoroughly for any rips, tears, or stains. he smiles softly before nodding, holding it up to get another proper look. “i’m sure she’ll love it..”

as you both walk over to the line, chatting away at what you both were going to do on your visit, you had accidentally bumped into a woman covered in jewelry and what seemed to be designer clothing. you can see where this is going, right?

“ah, im sorry.” you quickly apologize. the woman gasps offendedly, looking over to where you had bumped into her. “excuse me? do you know what you just did? you had just RUINED my new designer jacket.” she exclaims, putting the fur jacket near your face. “do you know how much this had cost me? how do you expect to clean this up?”

riddle’s eyebrow twitched, staring at the supposed mark you had left. there wasn’t even a trace of such thing, she was just lying to make extra cash. “actually, i think you had bumped into them.” he answers, trying to be as calm as he physically can. “i wasn’t talking to you, little girl. buzz off.” she angrily glared at riddle before shifting her attention back to you.

as you glanced back at riddle, you could see him seething with anger. he grit his teeth and clenched his fists, not to mention his face was completely red. “ma’am, i in no way have damaged your jacket. you had bumped into me, and what you had said was uncalled for. please do not talk to us again, we are done here.”

you walk away, squeezing riddle’s hand as a way to calm down, but the woman wouldn’t give up. “how dare you defy me.. you little brats!” she grabbed onto your shoulder, trying to pull you back. instinctively, riddle drew his magic pen, but you signaled him not to use it. you push the woman off your shoulder and look at her with disgust laced in your eyes.

“don’t EVER lay your hands on me like that. do that again and i’ll be more than happy to call the authorities.” you had raised your voice, the entire shop looking at the scene. as the woman looks around, she mumbles something before leaving the store. you sigh, not expecting such ignorance from people so soon. “i’m sorry about that, riddle.”

“no, you didn’t do anything. i could’ve used my unique magic on a civilian if you hadn’t stopped me..” he murmurs the end part, but smiles at you nonetheless. “are you going to be alright?” he asks, caressing your cheek. “yeah, ill be fine. it wasn’t anything serious.” you smile back at him, feeling a ray of sun hit both of your figures in the middle of the shop.

“now cmon, let’s purchase this gift for your mother and get outta here.” you laugh, taking his hand and pulling him toward the register.

“..yeah.”

🦁┆LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“why’d you have to tag along..”

leona grumbles, leading you up to his room for your stay. “because i know you’d skip out on the dinner if i didn’t.” you retort, knowing damn well he appreciates your company.

“pssh.. why does that bother ya?” he murmurs as he opens the door for you like a gentlemen, despite his contradicting remarks. “no reason, i just want you to show more respect for your family is all.” you mention, walking into the large room. it was definitely bigger than his dormitory, and arguably larger than all of ramshackle. but it was nice.

“..do what you want. settle in, im takin’ a nap.” leona strides over to his bed, yawning while stretching his arms. you frown at him as he turns his back to you, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back. leona lets out a surprised grunt before facing you with a scowl. “what the hell was that for-“ he starts before looking at your piercing gaze.

“you’re getting ready for dinner. now.” you demand, standing your ground. he stares at you, no longer having a snarky comment to each word you say. he clicks his tongue before grabbing a nearby outfit and changing in the bathroom. he gave up easier than expected, but at least that means less work for you. speaking of which, you decide to get ready yourself in preparation for the night.

sitting at the table, tensions were high. you expected it just to be leona’s family, but it appears to be a whole system of royals lined up inside the palace. even leona himself was shocked, but he also wasn’t one to keep up on his family events..

the dining hall was incredibly loud. sounds of laughter, bickering, and natural conversation can be heard from every corner. “told ya you shouldn’t have attended.” leona whispers, causing you to raise a brow. “it’s crowded, but i know you’re just trying to find an excuse to leave.”

he frowns before picking at the lettuce on his plate. “you should eat that.” you comment, seeing as the entire steak was gone but the salad was practically untouched (not including him picking at it). “hm? wanna eat it for me instead?” he smirks, about to push the salad onto your dish.

“no way!” you laugh keeping the plate away from him. the night continues, playful laughter exchanges between you both. suddenly, the banter comes to a stop when leona was bumped on the shoulder, and it wasn’t on accident. a snobby looking royal looks back and gives leona a disgusted look.

“my mistake, kingscholar. I didn’t realize second-sons were invited to such a grand event.” the royal chuckles, expecting a groundbreaking reaction from leona. all leona did was furrow his brow before speaking. “yeah well here i am in all my glory. now put a sock in it and get lost.”

the royal flinches, changing the subject to you. “and who might this be? a partner of yours? i had not realized you had one. i never thought you’d get one with such a nasty scar and attitude..”

leona scowls, clenching his fists before suddenly feeling your hand atop if it. “i believe you should show more manners. he may not be king, but he’s royalty just as you are. if you just came to bother him with disrespectful remarks, then i think it’s best you just leave us alone.” you state, leona’s cheeks turning a slightly darker shade.

“who are you to tell me this? you don’t look like royalty, not to mention you reek of no magic. you too attend night raven college don’t you?” he continues, causing your blood to boil. “were you too rejected from royal sword academy? how saddening it is to see.”

you want to punch him, and want to punch him bad. however, you contained yourself and decided to respond respectfully. “acting so snobbish is much more saddening. if royals like you are ruling kingdoms, then i fear its only a matter of time before it falls thanks to a poor king. how about you get your act together and show respect to your peers.” maybe it was a little less respectful than you thought.

“tch. this is not the last of me, kingscholar.” the royal gives up, walking away from the two of you. you smile, looking back at leona, who was a little flustered as you came to his rescue. “i didnt need you to defend me.” he murmurs before averting his eyes to the side. you open your mouth to speak, but get cut off as he suddenly ruffled your hair. “but you got guts.”

you knew this was his way of saying thank you. you laugh. unsure as to why, but something about his awkward ways with affection were definitely charming. “what’s so funny?” he asks, lifting his hand and raising a brow. “ahh, it’s nothing.”

♦️┆CATER DIAMOND

“i have so many things for magicam now!”

cater exclaims, laying out his new props and figures onto the table. after he insisted on you joining him to his hometown, cater took you on a date across town so you can see all the wonderful places the Shaftlands has to offer. you smiled as he already began to take pictures, not hesitating to join in. “they’re adorable, cater! i really like this figure right here.”

you picked up said figure and smiled admiringly at it. cater took in your expression, feeling entranced before snapping out of it. “welll, if you like it so much you can have it!” he exclaims, causing you to shake your head. “no, no! you bought it, it’s yours. i just thought it was nice is all.” you protested, but he wasn’t going down easily.

“well i’d do anything to make my partner happy, so if you like it, it’s yours. no take backs ☆!” he giggles, causing you to pause. “..thank you, cater.” you flash him a smile before watching him take out his phone for a quick photo. with little to no time to react, he had already snapped a photo of you with a huge grin on your face. “hm.. you’re so photogenic, yknow?”

you feel your cheeks get warm at his words, but you came to your senses once you realized you both were in public. “we should pack up the things and get ready to go.” you suggest, cater already being a step ahead of you by packing everything back into its packaging and bag.

a man walks oddly close to the table, but you had decided not to question it. suddenly, in a swift movement one of the expensive props were gone, the man dashing away. “HEY!” you shout, cater looking at you with a look of confusion. “[MC]? is someth— WOAH!” before he could finish, you sprinted towards the thief. the culprit looks back, seeing your angry and annoyed face before turning forward.

“shit..” he mutters trying to pick up the pace. cater follows behind you, feeling tired from running and carrying the bags. “S-SLOW DOWN!” he shouts, but you had one goal in mind. you charged at the mystery thief, a yelp escaping him as he hit the concrete floor. “Give it back.” you stated sternly, pinning his hands behind his back and keeping him in place.

cater catches up, running out of breath as he walked towards you. “hey, what was that about— WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” the culprit struggles, trying to get up off the ground. “LET GO OF ME, FREAK! I DIDN’T DO NOTHING!” you furrowed a brow at him before grabbing the loose stolen item off the ground. “don’t lie. you tried stealing from us. i’m reporting you to police so no poor soul has to deal with you.”

cater looks at you with a puzzled expression before realizing one of his props WERE missing. “i guess i’ll call police then..?” cater awkwardly adds, pulling out his phone to dial the number.

the police eventually show up, taking in the culprit to discover this has happened more than once. he sells these stolen goods for drugs. cater looks at you, a hint of admiration and a little fear could be seen in the glint of his eyes. “hm?” you hum, noticing his staring.

“remind me not to ever steal from you.” he states, replaying the scene back in his head. “you didn’t need to tackle him, it was just one figure!” you shrug before taking his hand in yours gently. “i guess i didn’t want him stealing from you. especially since it was one of the more expensive props.”

“..you’re such an angel.” he states with a look of awe, causing you to laugh. “definitely not, but thank you.” suddenly, an arm pulls you in. your arm comes into contact with caters as he leans in and snaps a quick selfie of you two. he adds the caption before hearing your phone get a notification.

it reads: “my heroic partner ❤️❤️❤️”

you feel your heart beginning to beat faster and your stomach starting to do backflips. just cater doing the bare minimum was enough for you to feel this way. “isn’t it perfect?” he asks, chuckling as you get pulled out of the trance. “..yeah.”

“i like you being my hero.” he smiles, planting a quick kiss on your cheek before tugging your hand. “now cmon, i know this totally adorbs café on the next block and i’ve been dying to take you!”

A/N: WRITERS BLOCK ABSOLUTELY KILLED ME WITH THIS ONE, NOT TO MENTION THE EXAMS UGGGGHHHH

date published: 5/12/24

© temiizpalace — don’t steal or copy my work!

[ofdreamsnwishes]

“You are staring.” Barista!Jaemin whispered in your ear, making you jump and spill the hot coffee on yourself. Swearing under your breath you quickly move to the sink, running some cold water on your hand to, hopefully, avoid getting a serious burn.

The boy snickers behind you, trying to apologize and offering to help, but you know it’s not really genuine, Jaemin is just trying to mess with you, as if annoying the hell out of you was the best part of his day.

“I understand you are the owner’s son and you’re not really obliged to work, but at least try to uphold your parent’s café reputation.” You whisper-yells at him, glaring into his soul, hoping that for once, looks could actually kill.

“Oh I am. I’m making sure that our employees are not slacking off, you know, staring at our costumers with heart eyes…” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. Shit, he knows.

“I wasn’t staring AT the costumers, my gaze just happened to be there.” You defend yourself, too prideful to admit that you were, in fact, staring.

You were trying to convince yourself too, because really, you shouldn’t. Not at Mark of all people. Not at the guy that was currently there waiting for your pretty coworker to arrive.

“Bullshit.’ He deadpans. It was infuriating how he always seemed to look past your excuses. ‘Maybe we should ask Hina and see what she thin-”

A hand flies over Jaemin’s mouth, your panicked eyes meeting his.

“Do. Not.’ A warning. Too bad Jaemin loved the bickering so, of course, he had to poke his tongue out, slightly licking your hand. Pulling away, you shoot him disgusted look. ‘You!”

An awkward cough startled you two out of your argument, Mark standing near the cashier, shy smile and a gentle voice to accompany.

“Sorry to interrupt… But, could you give this to Hina when she comes by? Something came up and I need to leave.” He has a small paper bag on his hands, what you could assume was some kind of jewelry based on the logo. Your heart drops. Right, Hina.

Before you can answer though, Jaemin is quick to talk, swiveling past you and putting on his best customer service smile.

“I’m sorry, we are not allowed to accept gifts from customers.’ It’s a lie. ‘The owners are very strict about it.” Another lie, Jaemin’s parents were sweethearts.

The older boy’s eyes widen, a blush dusting the tips of his ears. “Oh…! Sorry, I didn’t know about that…” He scratched the back of his head, excusing himself and leaving shortly after, a dejected look on his eyes.

It’s silent after that, Jaemin taking the order of the next customer in line and you busy yourself with tidying up the counter.

“What do you even see on him?” The boy beside you asks, once he took all of the costumers orders, putting a hand on your shoulder and moving you aside so he could help with the beverages.

“For starters he is the opposite of you.” You grumble and he lets out a dramatic gasp.

“So you’re telling me I’m not your type?”

You pause, looking at him, syrup bottle midway in the air. Honestly, what went on inside of his head sometimes? You? Liking him? That’s the first thing be asks?

“No?” You give him a side eye.

“Damn… Too bad, you’re exactly my type.”

“…”

“…”

“What?”

Jaemin winked at you, finishing up the beverage he was doing and taking the one you were doing, calling the names on the cups. He acted as if he didn’t just drop this bomb on you.

“Jaemin, what-”

“The customers are waiting, come on, finish their orders first.” He singsongs, not looking in your direction, hands busy cutting a cake slice.

Hesitantly, you turn away, almost dazed as you work on the next order in line. Maybe if you looked a bit closer you might’ve seen the red dusting his cheeks, the back of his neck and tip of his ears. He slipped up.

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

Ain't nothing but a shower scene - Hellboy x Afab!Reader

I am reposting my old hellboy fics on tumblr again.

(These are from my old account)

I had to admit that HB truly had the best shower in the whole of the Colorado B.P.R.D. headquarters. So, when I get the chance to make use of these facilities, you know I will.

But sadly, due to the sheer amount of bloody research I have had to complete over the past eight days, I haven’t been able to see very much of or be anywhere near Hellboy. If it wasn’t for Alice insisting, I really need to take a break and that it wasn’t normal to go so long without sleep, food or the basics of hygiene.

Normally I would flip her off, then go back to my work. Drinking my umpteenth coffee of the day, but I hate to admit it the kid was right. Gods, I could actually smell myself. That is never a good sign.

Marking my place in the old dusty tome I was halfway through reading/translating. I scrape the chair backwards unceremoniously loud along the floor to let people near me know I was in fact leaving the much-needed research table and if anyone messes with my organisation system in my absence, I will ruin them.

Upon standing for longer than needed to walk to the coffee machine and back. Only then did I realise how dog gone tired I really was. Taking my time I slowly and carefully make my way through the facilities many winding corridors. Trying my hardest not to bump into other agents or the walls, until I arrive at Hellboy’s quarters. At the first glance I can see he isn’t there which is both a blessing and a little disappointing.

Yes, I do get the shower and bed to myself for the time being but that also means I missed out on seeing him. We have really become good, close friends.

Now you are probably wondering why I have been mentioning HB a lot. Well that is simple we have been sharing his room ever since a certain someone magically managed to punch a massive hole through my exterior wall and out into the cold mountain air. He claims to have been swatting a fly. Not that there were any in my room at the time. But there was still no need to punch a massive three feet wide hole in my wall with his stone hand at that.

So I am now staying with him for however long it takes to patch the damage up. He insisted on sharing with me as an apology. It’s been over three weeks now and there was still a gaping hole in my quarters wall. I ain’t complaining tho. Hellboy really did have the best rooms in the facility and I’m damn well sure gonna make use of them. Since I had the place to myself I start stripping out of my uniform until I was stark naked and fiddling with the nobs and handles to try and get the water running in the oversized shower exactly how I preferred, amping up the heat to scolding levels that I find great comfort in. Maybe it is because it steams up the entire bathroom area nicely to the point I feel like I’m in a warm, safe cocooned state.

The multiple water jets pummel at my aching back and shoulders. I groan out at the blissfully sensation of my body finally unwinding and relaxing. Oh how I have needed this time to gain back my spark. I grab the bottle body wash that smells just like him. A calming fig and leather scent. I work up the lather in my hands then tackle the layers of dried on sweat and dirt I have accumulated over the past 8 days. Somewhere in between cleaning myself and the warmth of the water. I found that it managed to amplify the scent of the body wash. To the point it felt like he was right there with me. Meer inches behind me.

Maybe I let my imagination get away from me but it was as if his unique stone hand was scratching lazily down my hip. I try to lean back into what would have been his chest only to meet thin air.

“Shit.” I mutter to myself. This is not the time or the place to be thinking such things. Scrubbing the hot water over my face to try and clear my perverted mind of thoughts that were just that. Thoughts.

It isn’t that I don’t find him handsome. Oh I really did I mean that guy can charm the pants off anyone given the chance but we were only friends and nothing more.

“No, get outta your head. Finish your shower and have a damned nap, then back to work you go.” I spoke firmly to myself as I shut off the water.

I left the bathroom grabbing a clean towel and throwing it over my head to begin drying my hair as I wander back into the main part of the bedroom.

Someone clears their throat. I rip the towel off my head to see Hellboy stood there staring at me. His eyes are roaming all the skin available to him and it takes me a second to click I am stood there completely starkers. I try to cover myself but at this point what is the use. He has seen all of me now. I sigh.

“When did you get back?” I try and break the awkward silence as I continue to towel dry my hair.

His duffel bag drops with a thud to bring him back to the question I just asked him.

“Urm, just got back from a mission. Was gonna come looking for you actually.” He was clearly unsure if he was to look away or stare.

“Well you found me Red.” I say as I bend to dry my legs. “What do you want?” I ask casually, unsure where this confidence in my body has come from.

“You.” He breathed out the word in a contented sigh and a goofy smile on his lips.

I definitely heard him correctly trying to hide a creeping smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I stood back up to my full height taking the small grey towel away from my legs and dropped into on the floor.

“I didn’t quite hear that. I must still have water in my ears.”

His gaze drops to the floor

“Well.” I take a step closer to him. “You have me.”

His golden eyes flick up back to mine to see if there was any hint of hesitation or a cruel prank.

“Do I?” His voice low in a sort of warning that if I was messing with him I needed to stop now.

I kept moving slowly closer to him. The warmth of his body begins to radiate into mine from a couple feet away. He could see I wasn’t playing with him and that I really did want this. Whatever this moment was that clung in the warm air left behind by my shower.

As I got close enough to feel his body against mine I turn as take his right hand in mine and pacing it over my hip in the way I imagined only minutes before I had turned the water off. He is hesitant in his touch as all he knows is how to break and destroy with this hand but I want to show him the things he was clearly missing out on.

“You know you do.” Saying these simple words seemed to break the dam in both of us. His left arm winds around me stomach pulling me flush against his chest. His right hand caressing my hip and upper thigh. The contrast of his flesh hand and the stone one is magical. All the while his mouth descends upon my exposed throat kissing and suckling at the flesh marking my skin not that I cared. I grind back against him causing him to break contact and spin me to face him dead on.

“You’re playing with fire (Y/n). Are you sure you want this?” I can see a flicker of concern in his features. His golden eyes are purely molten with lust.

“More than you know big guy. I’m not afraid to get burned.” I scratch my nails down his firm pectorals.

His left hand cradles the back of my neck bringing me in for a kiss that could wake a million princesses, princes, kings, queens. Hell a whole kingdom from a cursed sleep. His lips are so intoxicating and I can’t get enough of him. I leap up as we break for air. His strong arms catch under my thighs and we go back to kissing like the world is going to end. It is bound to happen one day but right now all I need is him. I push at his large brown coat to try and remove the infuriating item of clothing to give me more of him to explore.

Hellboy can feel me pushing at the jacket. Seeing no other way to remove it with me in his arms. He moves us both to the nearest divider wall in his room and pins my body there with the weight and strength of his hips holding me in place as we break apart to gasp in lungful’s of air. I’m sure our lip look kiss swollen from such a fiery kiss that has become one of the best make out sessions I have ever had. He tears away the jacket, letting it drop to the ground, his hands go to my chest and thumbs swiping at my hardening nipples.

I’m chanting in my mind for him to use that mouth on them. He leans back slightly before slamming his hands either side of my head.

“We can stop now if you want. I don’t want to overstep.” I see the genuine concern on his beautiful face.

“I want this Red. I need you.” I rest my forehead against his.

“I could sure get used to this.” He smirks to himself.

“So could I. but unless you fucking touch me I will implode and take the entirety of the mountainside with me..” I grind down on his member that was tenting so wonderfully in his dark trousers.

It was my turn to get him panting beneath me.

“(Y/n), baby. I am trying to have some restraint here as not to hurt you . . . “

“I’m no China doll. You won’t break me. Remember I have advanced genetic healing, anyway I want you to mark me. Let everyone know who it is I belong to.” I say as I stretch my arms up above my head to grasp either side of the thin divider wall and use my legs to pull him back firmly against me possessively.

Hellboy is mulling over my words with a hooded gaze. His left hand grasps my throat squeezing it generously. “Is that right? You belong to me and only me now. You are mine.” His words are almost a low growl as he speaks he moves his lips closer and closer to mine. He speaks the last word with his lips grazing mine.

I mirror the word mine before he descends into another mind blowing kiss. I’m so engrossed in the sensation of our lips moving in perfect rhythm. That I don’t notice he has pried away his right hand from the slight indentation he left on the wall by my head, so he can unbuckle his belt and trousers in a swift movement, freeing his engorged cock to slap up against my ass. He hisses at the skin contact. I feel the stuttering in his hips. He really is trying to stay in control. When his left hand loosens on my throat I break the kiss to grasp that hand and bring the digits to my mouth and suck at them in earnest.

I moan around those fingers as I close my eyes and just being in the moment. I stay like this for as long as either of us could take. When I open my eyes, I pull away his fingers from my mouth with an emphasised pop sound. Then guide them in between our bodies till he feels just how much I truly need him. He easily inserts one digit into me gasping at the wet tightness that greets him. A second digit followed by a third in quick succession are enough to have me moaning his name in an almost scared prayer. He thrusts those fingers so well that the heel of his palm grinds down on my bundle of nerves that sparks lightning through my limbs and curls my toes.

“Ffffffuck (y/n) I’m not gonna last if you keep this up.” He is groaning from the way our bodies are so close to that final embrace we both need.

“Then take me Red. Fuck me and claim me as yours and only yours” I’m so close to falling over that blissful edge of completion when he withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips he sees the mess I have become.

“Oh (y/n) Is this all for me? It must be my birthday.” He exaggerates the last sentence by swiping the flat of his tongue up to gather the distinct flavour of my arousal. “Better than I imagined.” He cleans his fingers of my taste.

“Bed now.” I need this man to fuck me and or let me ride him. He chuckles at my enthusiasm but takes my ever so subtle hint to move to the oversized bed. Dropping onto the mattress Hellboy turns at the last moment so I’m straddling those thick muscular thighs of his. “Red, you gotta let me take care of you.”

I push his chest lightly till his back hit the plush covers. I manoeuvre so I am able strip him of trousers and help him kick off those clunky boots to free those cloven feet I rarely get to see.

Crawling up his chest slowly to make sure I still have his full attention, kissing here and there to see if I can hear those wondrous sounds.

“Baby, you’re killing me.” His hands move along my sides to my hips, giving them a firm squeeze. “Please I need more.”

I kiss him once more before positioning body so I can stroke his girthy cock in my palm. He bucks into my palm. I can tell he needs more. Mouth-watering ideas flash into my mind which I lock away for later use.

With is cock still in my palm I move so I can gather up the wetness pooling between my thighs.

“You ready big guy?” I lock eyes with him. He can only nod in agreement.

Slowly I guide him to my entrance. I push down till the head of his cock disappears inside me. I gasp at the feel of him stretching me so sinfully. Inch my inch I lower down onto him until I am completely seating on him.

I watch his face melt into that of awe. Here I am taking his cock so well. Clenching at the thickness of him.

“You okay there (y/n)?” He knows that he is well endowed and some people can’t take him completely the way I just have.

I experiment by rocking my hips gently. We moan out in unison. This urges me to move more and slightly faster.

Hellboy begins to rut up into me, I push down to meet him thrust for thrust. We work up into a pattern that transcends anything my simple fingers could live up to on those late nights alone in my room.

Our left hands interlock as we move as one. The room around us is filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, loud moans of each other’s name and the encouragement to go faster and harder.

“I’m so close Red. Please I need to. . .” I cry out.

“Cum for me (y/n). I got you.” His thrusts are becoming sloppy now. I know he is so close too. I lean forward to kiss him once more. This new angle is all I need to climax harder than anything in my entire life. A few more haphazard thrusts later and he spills inside of me.

I slump against his sweaty chest. Grinning from ear to ear which I know he is mirroring above me. We stay like this till we get our breath back. Shakily I climb off him and lay down by his side completely stated.

“Wow.” He turns his head to look at me. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm, yes I am now.” I try not to yawn but I know I will drift off soon after such a satisfying ‘workout’

He shift on the bed to go and grab something from the direction of the ensuite. He returns seconds later with a damp cool cloth. He takes care of me before climbing back on the bed to pull my against his chest.

“Sleep now. I got you.” I feel him lightly kiss my hairline before sleep takes me.

[billieshrry]

NEEEEEDDDDDD angst rn i can just tell you write angst that’s so good 😛😛

Okay heres a lil blurb for ya

Your face went hot when you opened up your phone, seeing the 9 missed calls and 14 texts from Billie, all begging for forgiveness from you. Riddled with apologies and pleas to just call her back, you read them all before shutting your phone back off and getting up to wash your face.

After what she did to you, after the lying and the cheating and the horrible things you heard her say about you, say TO you, she didn’t deserve forgiveness.

And you deserved a lot more than an apology.

So as you washed your tear-stained face, scrubbing at your cheeks that burned from the salt and your eyes that hurt to blink, you stripped and hopped in your shower, hoping to be able to wash away the feeling of shame and embarrassment.

Embarrassment because you believed her. Shame because you fell for her lies and made yourself look stupid.

You should’ve known she wasn’t just “out for dinner with friends!” on tour, you should’ve known she wasn’t “in the studio late” every Tuesday night. You should’ve known not to trust her just because she was so sweet to you when you were with her, but so distant and unloving when she wasn’t.

So, when you heard Billie’s signature knock on the door 2 minutes after you turned the shower off, you should’ve known not to answer it.

But you did anyways.

“What are you doing here, B?” You say immediately, not even opening the door all the way. You couldn’t bear to look at her face. Not after the video of her cheating on you with her best friend circulated Twitter. Not after you ghosted her instead of confronting her. Not after blocking her on everything but iMessage, because a little part of you wanted to know she cares.

“Please, please let me in.” She slurs outside, obviously drunk, high, or both. Your heart sinks and you gulp, opening the door a little bit wider so she can squeeze in. You turn around, still unable to look her in the eyes, and walk straight to your kitchen to grab her water as she stumbles to your couch.

“I- I’m so-” she hiccups in between her words, the taste of alcohol probably bubbling in her throat, “so sorry. You h- have to beli-” another hiccup cuts her off, but you speak before she has the chance to continue.

“You hurt me, Billie.” You say sternly as you walk the water over to her, finally catching a glimpse of her in this state. Her eyes were bloodshot, with light mascara stains running down her cheeks. Her hair was tousled under her bandana, you could tell. Her bottom lip had marks from her teeth, where you assume she had been biting them out of anxiety and anger, a bad habit you tried to get her to quit.

She looked miserable. Almost as miserable as you had been for the week you had gone without speaking to her.

“I waited, Billie. I waited for you to explain to me what happened. I waited for an excuse, anything, because I wanted to hear you out. I wanted to believe you, I wanted it to be a lie. I waited and waited.”

She sips her water, her hand shaking as it brings the cup up to her lips.

“You weren’t there for me at all. For our entire relationship you saw me twice a week, you lied about where you were, who you were with, what you were doing. How am I supposed to forgive you? You broke my heart, Billie.”

You sigh, trying to speak softly but your emotions get the best of you, your voice raising in volume and pitch. You feel your eyes start to water and you swallow, trying to keep the tears from falling.

Billie examines you, her watchful eyes scanning over each feature of your face. She can tell you’ve been distraught. Your nose is red, your eyes puffy and tired, your skin pale and cold. You were a mess with her, and a mess without her.

“I’m sorry. I know, y/n, I know that I hurt you. I know that, okay? I don’t know what else to say. Please don’t leave me. I need you, I’m here because I need you.”

She begs you and goes to grab your hand, but you quickly retract it and walk around to stand in front of her now.

“You can’t even see how much you’ve hurt me, Billie. You have no idea what I’ve gone through. The DM’s, the tweets, the texts. Even your family has apologized for your actions before you did. I can’t even look at you. Not tonight, not when you’re drunk and saying shit and I’m a wreck.”

You stand your ground as you watch her face fall with defeat. You don’t know what she was thinking, coming in here apologizing like it would make you forgive her. Like you’d run into her arms and everything would be okay again. She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead, she grabs the water, finishes the rest of the glass, and slams it down onto the table. You’re unsure if shes angry with herself, with you, or both.

She stands shakily, holding onto the arm of the couch for support. You almost reach out to help her. Almost.

“This can- this can’t be the end. I’ll come back, I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ll come sober and ready to talk. I’ll make this work for you. For me. For us. I lo- I love you, okay?”

She’s cut off by a couple more hiccups before she can fully get her words out. Her eye contact with you is unwavering. You walk toward the door, leading her out.

“Please let me figure this out. I’ll fix it.” Billie promises, now standing in the hallway of your apartment.

“I don’t know how I can ever trust you again.” You say quietly, watching her head fall before shutting the door in her face, double locking it, and walking back into your room to finish getting ready for bed.

Its messy sorry but love u :p

[gatitties]

can i ask for something based on my daily suffering? It's interesting (or not) something fluff, welcoming, consoling, kind and gentle, I need happy things

Headcanons or Scenario for Red Hired and Whitebeard ( Whitebeard's daughter)

-My friends won't talk to me after a little annoying fight after I said how I felt about myself and apologized for something I shouldn't have, now my friends won't talk to me (whatever I was already alone)

-I'm desperate about grades in high school and no one wants to understand my situation of extreme anxiety, panic and depression

-I am not getting psychiatric and psychological help

-my cat died, now I'm suffering

-I tried against my life

-I don't have anyone to talk to about it, I'm practically alone

- I hate myself

Sorry for that, do it if you want, thank you 🫶

─Red Hair Pirates & Whitebeard Pirates x fem!reader

─Summary: You are not having the best days but your family and friends make you see that you should not drown in a glass of water

─Warnings: none

I feel your loss :( and hey, everyone argues from time to time, things can be solved by talking if both parties want to work it out, I hope you are feeling better now love, feel free to message me if you need anything! 🫶🏻

Your mood was really shitty lately, you argued with some important people over something silly, nothing seemed to go your way and you thought you were being a complete nuisance to all of your father's crew right now, so you decided to run away for a few weeks hoping a break would lift your spirits.

It seems you couldn't enjoy your alone time either because it just made you overthink the situation you were in which caused anxiety to kick in, everything was going so bad lately that you couldn't take it anymore, you needed to unload everything you had but you did not find any psychologist or doctor who convinced you to be able to try to calm your mind.

You were in the middle of a mental breakdown, in the middle of nowhere, on your way to another island when you saw it in the distance, you hadn't seen them many times, but you knew the Red-Haired Pirates, you thought it was better not to bother them considering your state in deplorable spirits, but once Shanks saw the ship with Whitebeard's mark on it it was inevitable that you would not end up aboard his ship.

The screams, belches and music made you shudder at first, too used to your deafening stupid thoughts, you looked like a little animal about to be run over while you watched all those men dance and drink without worries.

"What's the long face? This is a party, you should celebrate!"

Yassop patted you on the back offering you a drink which you refused, Benn denied seeing the interaction, coming closer to see how little receptive you were, he knew that something was occupying your mind now and it wasn't a party exactly what you had in mind.

"Don't listen to this idiot, you can do whatever you want, you can even hit Shanks if you want."

A grimace similar to a smile appeared on your face, a bit amused by Benn's words, apparently he summoned the redhead just by saying his name.

"What's up with me?"

"Oh nothing, we were just planning the way to kick you."

"Again? You should stop inciting our guests to hit me!" he looked at you, changing his silly smile to a fake look of a kicked puppy "Don't listen, okay? I know you're better than that! Someone like you wouldn't kick me, would you?"

You were amused by his nonsense, sharing a quick glance with the other two men, the grimace on your face turning into a wider smile.

"I don't know, the offer sounds good, what do I get if I kick it?"

"It!?"

Ignoring Shanks's betrayed expression, Benn and Yassop looked at you laughing, both patting their captain on the back making him take a step closer to you.

"Whatever you want! As long as you hit him with your greatest force."

"Hey! I'm the captain what the hell is wrong with you?"

They started a silly argument which the others joined in, making you chuckle slightly at the absurd situation, this little visit didn't exactly fix your problems, but spending time with this crew made you clear your mind and feel a little better, you decided you could deal with your problems a little later, for now you needed to release some tension.

Coping with the loss of a pet, arguing with some friends, feeling like everything you do is not paying off, it all came crashing down on you like a storm hitting hard, you felt so bad you didn't even want to bother your father with your problems or the others.

You felt miserable, the days began to go by like a blur, unable to leave your room or socialize a bit, you felt alone and locked up, you were terrified of facing your father to talk about your problems thinking that you would only be a burden to the whole the crew, you felt bad asking for help even if you needed it.

And, honestly, you would have kept drowning in your own misery if it hadn't been for Ace noticing your absence, he could tell you weren't fine pretty quickly, although he didn't want to push you, he felt that you were simply making things worse for yourself by locking yourself away.

He asked Marco for help because he knew that he could not approach the subject delicately, the least he wanted to do was cause you to have an anxiety attack because of him, he did not want to be abrupt or direct when talking about the subject, so it was Marco who asked you how were you.

You didn't know if it was due to despair or mental exhaustion but you ended up telling between sobs that you weren't feeling well, that lately you felt that everything was against you and that your life became a constant uphill.

"Okay, calm down, everyone has bad streaks, does your father know anything about this?"

"N-no…"

"You don't need to say it right away if you're not comfortable, but talking to him will calm you down, it's stupid for me to say it but Whitebeard is a kind man, your father will understand you perfectly."

You nodded, burying your face in his shoulder, tightening the hug a little more before letting him go, it took a couple more days before you faced your father, it was hard for you to open up about the situation but Marco was right, once you let go everything, your father hugged you saying that everything would be fine.

"Oh my daughter, you should not worry, life turns its back on you sometimes so you have to stay strong, please, if there is something that can cheer you up right now I will do it for you immediately."

Your father's devotion to making you dear raised your spirits a lot, you smiled widely, denying his proposal for the moment, there was nothing he could do right now, you just wanted to hang out with the others since you had wasted a lot of time locked up.

"Oh look, isn't she my favorite girl? It's good to see you around here again, come on, just tell me what you want and you'll have it as fast as possible."

You laughed slightly at Thatch's enthusiasm to see you appear in the kitchen, ordered your favorite dish and got to work, while Izo walked in just to pick up something he'd forgotten, although he did stop to talk to you about some gossip you'd lost, put you up to date with everything.

"Is that food I smell? Can I have one piece?"

"No way, back down demon!"

And the peaceful gossip talk went overboard when Ace came into the kitchen drooling from the smell of your food, you and Izo laughed as Thatch tried to hit Ace with a spatula to scare him away, a small fight started in the one where the cook was juggling your plate while trying to keep the other boy from touching your food.

You lost it when Ace tripped over a cloth on the floor, grabbing onto Thatch's apron which knocked the plate into the air, they both fell to the floor and mysteriously the plate remained intact right on top of the cook's toupee. Izo smiled seeing how you laughed at the dumbest fall you'd seen so far, everyone knew that you hadn't been feeling very well lately and seeing that you were beginning to have a better mood made them happy.

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 2: Toccoa, Georgia (The Prophecy)—A Band of Brothers Fanfic

A/N: I am so so so so SO sorry this is out late. This past week was super hectic! I hope that you really enjoy the chapter. I did my best to make it my own and different from other beginnings of BoB that I've seen, so you'll have to let me know what you think! Also, as a side note—I did, in fact, live in Toccoa area for 13 weeks a couple years back, so I actually do love that place!

Winnie could say that she had never been to Toccoa Georgia for any reason in her short lifetime and would probably have no desire to ever return. Though there wasn’t any snow on the ground here, it was just as gloomy as the rest of Georgia was in the winter months.�� Everywhere she looked, there were men in uniforms and people bustling towards the wartime factories that had popped up.  

Her arrival at Camp Toccoa was a rather quiet affair, and so there she sat in a wooden chair inside a small waiting area.  Occasionally, Winnie glanced over at the precipitation building on the windows.  When she was a kid, she had long periods of waiting like this one—where her father was in jail or at some bar and she would just wait for him to come back home. 

It would usually rain—and considering how the weather in Georgia changed as quickly as a summer breeze, Winnie had taken to counting droplets of water as a way to keep her focus on something that she could control. 

The simple fact of the matter was that Winnie had precious little control over a lot of the circumstances in her life.  But the things that she did have control over, she kept those things close to her chest; clung to them like they were her most precious possessions and no one would ever come close enough to take that freedom of control away from her again. 

She clicked her heeled shoes together exactly once, eyes straying to the scuff marks on her simple church shoes.  She wondered how her brothers were all faring in their training at the moment.  If they were all coping with the reality of what war would be—if they were prepared to go and be on their own. 

Richie wasn’t the one she was worried about.  He was two years younger than her and was always rather serious.  He worked harder than anyone else that she knew and wasn’t one to get distracted by a pretty face or lofty promises.  Any day now, he’d be shipping out to go to the Pacific as a Marine and it made her truthfully want to follow him all the way down there and have his back with a gun herself.  

They were Allens.  And they trusted themselves and one another.  No one else outside of their circle of siblings had proven to be someone that they would trust their lives with.  But Winnie knew that they would never allow a doctor—and a female one, at that—to go down to the Pacific and be a part of the carnage and horrors there. 

Robbie was in the same boat, proverbially speaking of course, as Richie.  Set to go to the Pacific in a few weeks.  He was always so quiet and watchful.  Winnie hoped that it would serve him well to be on his guard and pick up on the things that the other soldiers wouldn't notice.  They had yelled a lot back and forth before he had enlisted—she had told him to finish his degree and go into the JAG-Corp.  He had told her to go to hell—which he had tearfully apologized for when she dropped him off at the train station.  

Winnie stretched out her fingers over her lap, letting out a breath.  It had been nearly thirty minutes of waiting to be allowed to see the Colonel—and this was just for him to review her application to join the Paratroopers as a Doctor and training officer for his medics.  She wished that the level of urgency the war truly had would transfer over to her wait time. 

Because if she needed to haul everything back to Buford, Winnie would almost certainly rather pick up and move to the Carolinas and try to sign up for a different branch of the military that would, in fact, utilize her. She hated being idle—hated being alone, even more than that.  

The younger three boys were the ones that needed supervision—needed all the prayers of the good congregation of Buford’s Christian Non-Denominational Church.  Nathan was the first problem in Winnie’s pleas to God.  That boy had been raised wolf-wild by herself and Richie and Robbie.  They hadn’t been much, but they had had each other.  He was always picking a fight with an older boy—and she could only hope that this whole army experience was going to straighten him out.   

Then there was Joshua, also set to end up in the Pacific as a medic.  That had granted her a degree of peace, knowing that his evenings helping her study for school were going to come in handy where he was going.  It might, in fact, just be the thing that ends up saving his life.  

But Charlie? Charlie was, in every sense of the word, hers.  She had raised him from the time of his infancy and so to Winnie Allen, Charlie was her child.  Currently, he was in Texas and Winnie had never been more grateful for the fact that the Air Force programs were long.  She would take those 9 months like a sacred gift from God that he wouldn’t be anywhere near the fighting—at least for a short while. 

And then there was her.  Just her—with no idea where she’d end up, with no clue what her side of the war would entail.  Which of course, would be typical of her life thus far. 

Just then, the door opened and a man stepped inside, clipboard in hand.  “Dr. Allen?” 

“That’d be me,” Winnie said, rising to her feet. 

The man piqued an eyebrow, but said nothing about the fact that she was a woman.  He just let out a weary sigh and gestured towards the door with his head.  “If you’d follow me, ma’am.” 

Of course, a moment ago she was Doctor, and now she was ma’am.  God, she loathed the South.  

Winnie obliged, following after the man with quick steps.  As they crossed out of the building and onto a dirt path, Winnie caught sight of some of the trainees—some of them in the field and doing jumping jacks in the field, some of them running towards a trail through the trees.  There weren’t too many of them at the moment, but that didn’t deter Winnie in any way. 

“Are these the officers that are in training?” Winnie questioned, speeding up her stride to match the man in front of her. 

He let out an annoyed breath.  “You catch on quick.  Sink will like that.  Though I can’t account for how he’ll feel about a woman applying to train our medics.” 

“I’m a trauma surgeon and doctor.  I think my credentials speak for themselves,” Winnie retorted dryly. 

No response from the officer this time, just a huff of air as he came to a stop in front of one of the buildings on the camp.  “Wait here, please.” 

Winnie just crossed her arms and waited patiently, inhaling the cool air.  Not even thirty seconds later, the man had returned and gestured for her to enter the room.  Winnie was grateful for the slight reprieve from the cold air as she entered the room.  And there, sitting in a chair and smoking a cigar, was Colonel Sink. 

“If you’d please take a seat, Doctor Allen,” he gestured at the seat across from his desk with his cigar.  Usually quick to follow orders, Winnie slid into the seat, looking at Colonel Sink expectantly.  It was another moment of silence before Colonel Sink set down his cigar and fully looked at her.  “I’ll be honest, we don’t see too many female doctors come through the military.” 

“I expect you’d see more nurses, sir.” 

“Damn right, we do,” Sink stated.  “This whole war—unpleasant business, not really meant for women.” 

“If I can speak freely, sir?” 

“I’d be appreciative of the honesty, if you did.” 

“You’re right, it’s unpleasant.  But those women are still going to bury husbands, sons, brothers, and fathers.  It affects them just as much as it does the men.” 

“I can’t say I disagree.  Your point?” 

“I’m not a married woman.  I’m a trauma surgeon and head of the trauma department in Buford General.  I was the top of my class and as it so happens, I don’t have any children or brothers—they’re all off in training to fight in this war.  I don’t particularly like sitting on my ass or fancy myself a factory worker.  But I can help you train damn good medics, sir.” 

Sink stared at her for a long time.  His gaze reminded her a lot of her mentor’s, from back in college.  He was always trying to figure out her angles too.  Trying to figure out if she was as good as she claimed to be. 

“I’ll be honest with you, Allen.  We’ve got hundreds—thousands—of men coming in the next few months to train to be paratroopers.  Now I want them to be the best of the best.  And if I want them to survive more than five minutes over there, then that means I also need the best of the best doctors to train my medics.  So I’ll concede to your point.  Your application was good—I’m a self-made man myself and I respect that work.” 

“Sir?” 

“But I’ll also be honest with you.  This isn’t going to be pretty.  It’s going to be bloody and long and tiring.  This isn’t the type of place where you can just escape from whatever life you don’t want to live.  At some point, you might be elbows deep in some man’s guts and I need someone unflinching.” 

“October 27th.” 

“Pardon?” 

Winnie shifted in her seat, leaning forward.  “October 27th, a man and his two daughters are brought into Buford General.  Automobile accident.  The man flung his arm in front of his daughter sitting in the passenger seat.  His arm was hanging by a few strands of muscles and he was going to bleed out.  Now the daughter in the passenger seat got impaled by a fence post—it went straight through her stomach.  The daughter in the back was flung through the car and landed 15 feet ahead.” 

“That’s both gruesome and tragic.   Your point being?” 

“I was the surgeon on call that night.  I triaged.  I assessed.  I delegated.  The father lost his arm but he kept his life.  The daughter who flew through the car wasn’t going to make it.  She was 11.  We were short-handed and I had to tell the nurse assisting me that the little girl wasn’t going to make it and that she needed to focus on the other one.  So she did.  We lost the one—but she was mostly gone by the time she had arrived,” Winnie stated.  “My point here is that I can give your men skills that they won’t get anywhere otherwise.  Real life experience teaching practical application of the skills.  Triaging, assessing, not hesitating in doing the work and saving lives.” 

Sink leaned forward in his seat.  “You’d be hard on them?” 

“I’d be brutal. Because that is exactly what they are going to face out there.” 

“You be the hard-ass doctor that trains my medics, then.  But if you’re gonna be here, then you’re gonna train like my men train.” 

“I’m not a fragile southern belle like Melanie Hamilton, sir.” 

“No, I imagine you’re not.  I’ll give you two nurses to assist with actual injuries on base—and based on performance, you and them might just end up traveling with us wherever we end up.” 

“Sir?” 

“What?” 

“Thank you for letting me advocate my case.  I won’t let you down.” 

“You sure as hell better not.  Or lots of good men are going to die and that’s going to be on your shoulders.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the first hour of being there, Winnie had selected her nurses from the pile of applications.  It hadn’t been that hard of a choice to begin with—some were just practical eliminations, and the rest were a careful read-through of letters they had sent in along with the application.  

Reba Garrett and Eileen Gray were the two chosen candidates that she had landed on.  Reba was from New England and had been working as a nurse for well over five years now, placing her as one of the older and more experienced women applying for the position.  But it wasn’t her experience that attracted Winnie’s attention—it was the letter, and the way in which she described wanting to do some real good in the war and that started with saving lives rather than ending them. 

That sounded exactly like the type of person that Winnie wanted to have on her side.  

Eileen, on the other hand, was from Savannah, Georgia.  While her experience time of only two years wasn’t quite as well-established as Reba’s was, it was the picture that she had included of her brother that caught Winnie’s attention.  Eileen’s brother had been stationed in Pearl and he had been one of the many men to be immortalized under the ocean there. 

That gave her motivation, it gave her righteous anger—and in Winnie’s eyes, it was exactly the sort of thing that God would do—place Eileen in her path to ensure that justice was seen. 

So Winnie penned her first letters to the two women that would soon be joining her here in Toccoa.  And then she took those resumes straight to Colonel Sink—who wholeheartedly approved of the decision, though it was made in haste.  Just another reason for him to see her as a capable doctor—as someone he could trust. 

And in two weeks time, Eileen Gray and Reba Garrett would be joining her at Camp Toccoa.  In the meantime though, Winnie’s own training was set to begin.  And she’d be damned if she let herself be torn down by any man—her superior officer or not.  She was determined to earn her place amongst the men here—and earn their respect.  Consequences be damned. 

[scarabsinthestardust]

Tender // Ch. 5

MASTERLIST

word count: 3200+

I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out, friends. I came back from vacation sick and had a lot of catching up to do. But here we are, and chapter 6 is already almost done, too. Things are getting intense, and I am again apologizing for what's to come.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: child abuse; religious violence; burns; depression; anxiety; paranoia; unspecified undiagnosed mental illness; language; alcoholism; intoxication; jealousy; suicidal ideations; drunk driving; verbal argument; physical violence; domestic abuse; blood; mentions of hospitals, stitches, shots, and medication; manipulation; toxic behavior; stalking behavior (if I missed anything, let me know)

There was no rhyme or reason for what they’d done to him. They could probably justify their actions in their own deluded minds, but to anyone on the outside, it was barbaric and cruel. When the boy asked why, his voice raw from screaming, they only told him it was God’s will, whatever that meant.

The boy is 13 now. He’d read the Bible, and he didn’t recall anything about this. Of course, he fought against the pain. Who could be expected to sit quietly and obediently when there is red hot metal being pushed against their flesh? His mother chose the spot of a small birthmark above his right hip. The offending spot, a mark of the Devil, needed to be cleansed. The pain would eventually fade, a jagged scar in its place, but you don’t ever forget the smell of burning flesh, especially your own.

~

I was 16 when I left that place. I had nowhere to go and no plan, but I’m smart enough to know how to survive. I managed to save up whatever money I could scrape up and worked as hard as I could until I was able to land steadily on my own feet. I pulled myself up from the ground and rarely asked anyone for help. I refused to rely on anyone. People can’t be trusted, and I’m the perfect example.

I thought that being with Josh would be the remedy I needed to fix myself, that he would be the one to pull me out of the water and back onto solid ground. But I never should have put that on him. It was never his responsibility, but now I’m finding that it’s easier to blame him for my slip-ups than admitting that I have a problem.

The band isn’t due to go back on tour for quite some time, but they’re in the process of writing and recording new music, which requires a lot of time spent at the studio. I know they’re working so hard, and I should be proud of him, but the longer this takes, the further he slips away. He spends all day with his brothers and returns home late and too exhausted to do much of anything other than sleep.

I can tell our last fight (if I can really call it that) still weighs heavily on him. He doesn’t talk as much, which I thought would be relieving, but instead it only makes him seem more distant, and it hurts. He doesn’t ask me many questions anymore, and he’s hesitant to try and make plans. I curse myself for creating that dark cloud of unsurety that hovers over him.

I fell off the wagon in Wichita, and I haven’t gotten back on it. Some days are more difficult than others. Josh tries to keep me afloat as best he can. He’s done what he can to keep me away from any alcohol, and he’s even dropped me off at a couple of AA meetings to make sure I go. But it’s not like there’s a step-by-step manual on how to make sure your boyfriend doesn’t decide to be a piece of shit today.

I’m assigned to a job that’s supposed to keep me out of town for a few days, but some changes in plans have me returning home a day early. I try to call Josh on my way back, but I only get his voicemail. He doesn’t call me back, but eventually sends a text. “Sorry I missed your call. I’m out with the guys, so I’ll be out late. I’ll see you when I get home.” The little heart emoji at the end makes me scoff. ‘Out with the guys.’ He’s at the bar with his brothers, and there’s no telling what he’s getting up to.

I don’t know why I’m finding it so hard to trust him these days. I want to believe that he wouldn’t lie to me, wouldn’t allow himself to be whisked away by some other man, but then I remember that I’m beneath him, and he’s weak. I imagine it wouldn’t take much, that he’d give in to the first handsome man that spares him a sultry glance.

I don’t go home, and I don’t go to his house. Not yet. I’m tired from the drive and my mind is muddled with made-up scenarios that send me into a spiral. I wonder if I can will some kind of tragedy into existence, something to take me out of my misery – a car accident, a gunshot from a robbery gone bad, anything. It would be so easy to lie down on the nearest train tracks and wait it out or take a flying leap off of the top floor of a parking garage, but in the end, I’m too much of a coward to do it myself.

I don’t hesitate to go inside the store and buy the liquor. I park in an empty lot; the fact that it’s in walking distance of Josh’s favorite bar may or may not have been intentional. I don’t have any second thoughts before I crack open the first bottle.

The more I drink, the more my fear and sorrow turn to hate. I’m angry. I’m angry with myself for not having the strength to control my urges. I’m angry with Josh… for what? For having a social life? For wanting to spend time with his brothers at a place I can’t go? That’s stupid. He’s not a child. But I need him more than I’ve ever needed anyone. We’ve been apart so much recently. Maybe he just needs a reminder of who I belong to, who he belongs to.

I can’t find my keys; I probably dropped them between the seats. It’s for the best, really. The liquor has fogged my brain and made me clumsy, but at least I can stay upright. I barely stumble down the sidewalk until I reach my destination. The doorman eyes me warily, but one of the benefits of being a raging alcoholic is you get better at hiding it.

It doesn’t take me long to spot Jake, Sam, and Danny at a table inside. But where’s Josh? I scan the dimly lit room until I find him. He’s leaning up against the bar talking to someone I don’t recognize. He laughs at whatever the man says to him, his cheek red – from alcohol or is he blushing? The man leans in, too close for my comfort, and touches Josh’s shoulder. Heat rises up in me and my skin is tingling. My vision tunnels until Josh is the only thing I can see.

I rush towards him, miraculously without bumping into too many innocent bystanders, and force myself between him and the unsuspecting stranger. The man takes a step back and shoots Josh a concerned look.

“Finn, what the hell are you doing here?” His eyes are wide and panicked, like he just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“You first,” I spit, my tone venomous.

“What are you even… shit, you’re drunk.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Jesus Christ, c’mon.”

I glare at the stranger once more before Josh drags me outside. Jake seems to have noticed and is hot on our tails. “Josh, you okay?” Jake doesn’t trust me, and he doesn’t make any attempt to hide it. He hasn’t been fond of me since day one. His presence and desire to be in Josh’s business fuels the fire, and I’m about to start in on him, but Josh is here to play peacekeeper.

“We’re good. Can you just, uh, give us a minute?”

I know the last thing Jake wants to do is leave his twin out here alone with me. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t feel safe with me either. But at Josh’s pleading eyes, he relents, reluctantly retreating inside.

Josh turns to me, chewing on his bottom lip. Much like someone trying to calm a frightened animal, he approaches me slowly and carefully, his voice low. “Finn, baby, let me take you home.”

“Why, so you can come back here to that asshole?”

“What? Who are you talking about?”

“You know who I’m fuckin’ talking about. Were you gonna take him home? Were you gonna fuck him?” His feigned cluelessness is just fanning the flames. “Would he have been in your bed tonight if I didn’t come back early?”

“No, I wasn’t… the guy I was talking to in there? He’s just a friend, Finn. I wouldn’t-“

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” I close the distance between us. I’m so close and so much taller than him that he cranes his neck to maintain eye contact. He’s annoyed, tiptoeing into angry. He’s upset that I’m making these accusations. He pities me for being broken. But he isn’t afraid, and he very much should be.

The thing about alcoholism, in most cases, is that it brings out the worst in people. They do things they would never do sober. They hurt people in ways they would never think to do if they weren’t under the influence. They lose all sense of impulse control. The only thing that matters is what they’re feeling in those moments, the urges to act out on whatever terrible thoughts they’re having at the time. For me, it’s like I’m watching it happen to someone else. My self-awareness is clouded and I feel almost as if I’m just an observer, watching someone that looks oddly similar to me make the biggest mistakes of his life.

I expect a fiery argument from him, but if he’s mad, he pushes it down. “You don’t mean that. You’re drunk. You wouldn’t be saying these things if you weren’t.” He’s trying to diffuse a bomb and he’s about to cut the wrong wire. “Please, baby, let’s go home. You can sleep it off and we can talk in the morning.” His hands move to my face, and he looks up at me tearfully.

He thinks he can calm me down with his sweetness, sprinkle me with soft gestures to quell my anger. But it’s a façade. I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to manipulate it, to make me think I’m delusional, that I imagined everything. He’ll blame it on the alcohol in me instead of just admitting that he was the one acting like a whore.

I wrench away from his hands and my own come up. They meet his chest, and I shove him away so violently that he slams into the brick wall behind him with an audible thud. I hear him cry out, but it doesn’t register in my mind what I’ve done until I see blood. Blood? Wait, why is there blood?

“Josh, fuck, are you okay?” I try to go to him, but he sidesteps me.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” He’s got his hand pressed tightly on the back of his upper left arm. There’s blood seeping between his fingers and down his arm, staining his clothes. I notice something I didn’t see at first – a small piece of metal rebar that’s sticking out from the wall and is now coated in Josh’s blood.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” The remorse I’m feeling isn’t false, and I don’t have to force the tears that are threatening to spill from my eyes. What have I done? I never meant for this to happen, for him to get hurt like this. “Please, let me see it. Let me help.” I try to go to him again, but he doesn’t want me near him.

“Get the fuck away from me!” His words sting, and the look in his eyes tells me he means it.

I’m frozen as I try to figure out what to do, and I watch him try to control the bleeding on his own. He can’t really see the wound, but he knows it’s bad. “Josh, you need to go to the hospital,” I say, keeping my voice down.

“No fucking shit, Sherlock.” He looks toward the entrance to the bar, probably considering going in to get Jake. But he glances back at me and something flashes across his face that I can’t explain. Worry? He starts to speak again but decides against it, before walking in the opposite direction. He’s not really going to drive himself there? I offer to take him but he shuts me down. “Like I would let you drive me anywhere right now. Actually,” he starts, turning to me. “Give me your keys.”

I shrug. “I don’t know where they are.” Is he asking because he’s actually still concerned about me, or because he’s trying to prevent me from driving off and fucking up someone else’s life?

He huffs. “Whatever. Go home,” he orders. He’s livid, and rightly so, but there’s something else painted across his face – pain, betrayal, and sadness.

I think I’m going to vomit. My legs are numb; I’m unable to move them and I can do nothing as he walks away from me.

~

I should have left. I shouldn’t have found my keys and gotten back behind the wheel. I shouldn’t have driven to Josh’s house, still drunk. I shouldn’t have let myself in with the spare hidden key. I shouldn’t have decided to wait for him, to try to salvage what’s left of a relationship I know is already in tatters.

It’s probably three or four hours before I hear the lock click on the front door. I watch him as he enters and shuts the door behind him. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me, but he makes no move to come any closer.

“I told you to go home.” He won’t meet my eyes and he looks so drained of energy. His left arm is wrapped up with white bandages, midway between his elbow and shoulder. He’s got a bag in his hand that looks like prescription medication and his bloodstained jacket draped over his arm.

“You are my home.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind and it’s pathetic, but it’s the truth. At least, it feels like it. “Are you okay?”

He scoffs. “I have five stitches and had to get a tetanus shot.” He holds the medicine bag up. “And antibiotics for ten days so it doesn’t get infected.”

“Josh, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to… for you to get hurt.”

He tosses the medicine on the coffee table and sighs as he drops onto the couch. He sits as far from me as he can. “Finn… I want to help you, but if… if it’s gonna be like this… I don’t know if I want you here with me right now.”

“It’s not, I promise. I just got carried away. I wasn’t thinking. You know I would never hurt you on purpose. I’ll be more careful. It won’t happen again.”

His jaw tenses and I can see he’s thinking about what to say, what kind of decision he’s going to make. He’s dejected, like he doesn’t have any fight left in him. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. But he doesn’t trust me. And if he doesn’t trust me, he won’t forgive me. Time to pull out all the stops.

I’m not faking it, not really. I do feel remorseful for what I did, and I’ll admit that I’m the one that messed up. Alcohol makes me paranoid, and now that I’m sobering up, I realize that Josh didn’t do anything wrong. It isn’t his fault that he’s too weak to tell people no. If anything, I should have taken it out on the asshole that had the audacity to touch him. But I am ashamed of how I acted, and I need to make him understand that. And if that requires me to beg, I’ll do it.

I give in and let the tears flow freely; it helps feed the pity I’m trying to draw from him. I know I’m just being selfish. I’m doing this for me, despite knowing this is not what he really needs. What he should do is put as much distance as he can between us. I’m not confident that I can keep him safe. But I’ve already started the game, and I have to finish it.

When I grab his hand, he makes a small effort to pull away, but I tighten my grip. Don’t let go. “Baby, please don’t push me away. I made a mistake, but you’re the one who said it was okay to make mistakes, right? I’m trying, Josh, I really am. I’m trying to be better, but I can’t do it alone. I need you.” That’s it. That’s the icing on the cake. That’s how I get to him. Josh is a lover, it’s in his blood. He loves being needed, getting the opportunity to help people, and he won’t say no. “If you shut me out now… I don’t have anyone else. You’re it for me. I can’t do this without you.”

He's fighting with himself, I can see it in his eyes, but I can also see that I’ve won. He still loves me, and he won’t just walk away from that. Even better, if he thinks he can fix me, he’s going to try, even if he takes all the damage in the process.

“What do you need me to do?”

I don’t have a real answer for him. He knows I won’t go to rehab – it’s too similar to a hospital. The AA meetings only do so much. Plus, I’m getting to the point where it annoys me, sitting there listening to all those idiots and their fucking sob stories. I don’t give a shit about them. I never did. Then they start bringing ‘God’ and ‘faith’ into it, and I realize they’re all just sheep, blindly following a fictional idea of God – or maybe just a god that doesn’t care about them either.

Josh’s big brown eyes are watching me closely, maybe trying to decide if he’s the one making the mistake. I certainly won’t be the one to tell him he definitely is.

I beg for him to just let me stay with him, and he concedes. I try to be gentle with him; I don’t think he can handle anymore heaviness tonight. I make him eat so he can start his antibiotics, and I’m extra careful of his arm as we lie down. Again, I don’t really sleep, but he crashes hard, the day finally catching up to him. And I do something that I know is another mistake, something that is guaranteed to cause problems later, but I justify it as my way of protecting him.

When I’m sure he’s fast asleep, I unlock his phone, download one of the many tracking apps that are freely available, and link it to my phone. I disable all notifications and hide the icon in some folder I know he never uses, one of those where you keep all the software apps you can’t delete.

There’s no doubt in my mind that it’s wrong. It’s disrespectful, a violation of privacy, an act that solidifies how much I don’t trust him. It’s controlling, manipulative, and just overall creepy. I would have been livid if he had done it to me. But the deed is done, and I’ll tell myself whatever I need to, to not feel guilty for this. I’m doing it for him. I’m doing it for his safety, to keep him out of trouble when I’m not here. He needs someone to do it, and who better than someone that loves him? He needs me, and I’d do anything for him.

///

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added!)

@hollyco @fleetingjake @musicislove3389 @hailthegodsong @josh-iamyour-mama @katuschka @lilbitx

[kabie-whump]

AJDJFJIWJDJD YOUR BAIT STORY OMFG.

May I ask for a final part, where Onthyes and Ventis comfort each other and apologize? Just overall sweetness between them with some angst? 👀 (sorry for the constant asks, I just LOVE your writing OMFG).

-- @whumperofworlds

Yes absolutely they definitely need this!

Part 1 | Part 2

Content: drugged whumpee, guilt, stitches, (oblivous) whumpee x caretaker

~~~

Ventis dozes off on the way to Onthyes's house. There's not even a second of fear that Onthyes will drop him, and he feels so safe being carried in his arms that it's easy to let the nightspill finally weigh him down into sleep.

Things are fuzzy after that as Ventis continues to drift in and out of consciousness. He feels himself being gently laid on a bed. Onthyes's scent surrounds him - warm and woody with a hint of citrus.

"The poor fucker." Shayah's voice sounds like it's miles away, but Ventis can feel her hands unwrapping the makeshift bandages covering the claw marks on his side. "He was trying so hard to stay sober."

"He'll recover." Onthyes sounds certain. How can he have so much faith in something who doesn't know how to do anything other than fuck up? "He has us. I just hope he doesn't blame himself."

Ventis lets himself drift above the soft lull of their voices. It's comforting, knowing that his friends have everything taken care of.

Then he's rudely yanked back to awareness by a stinging pain in his side. He gasps, trying to turn away from the source of the pain, but he's stopped by hands on his shoulders keeping him in place.

Ventis opens his eyes to see Onthyes's worried face hovering over him.

"I'm sorry," Onthyes says quickly. "We thought you'd stay out for longer. It will only take a minute, okay? Just try to hold still."

Ventis whines as the pain starts up again. He forces his eyes to focus enough to see what's happening, and nearly faints at the sight of Shayah pulling a length of bloody thread through his wound to hold it closed. Onthyes's hand finds his cheek quickly, turning his face so they're focused on each other.

"Don't look, Ventis. Focus on me. You're okay."

"It hurts," Ventis gasps.

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

Ventis shakes his head quickly. "No, It's mine. I should've let you- ah! Fuck!"

"Sorry, breezy," Shayah murmurs. "I'm almost done."

Onthyes grips Ventis's hands tightly, letting him squeeze them despite his claws digging into his skin. "I should've protected you. I promised I would always protect you."

"You shouldn't have to."

"That doesn't matter. Even if you become the most powerful sorcerer in this world I am always going to be there to keep you safe. I swear it."

Shayah ties off the stitches and reapplies bandages, but Ventis's full attention is on Onthyes. He's exhausted and in pain and he just wants to sleep but he can only stare up at the man kneeling next to him on the bed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ventis whispers. "Why would you..." He squeezes his eyes closed. "I'm not worth it."

Onthyes makes a pained sound. "Ventis, listen to me." He lets go of Ventis's hands and grabs his face, cupping both of his cheeks. Ventis does as he's told, meeting Onthyes's ivy green eyes and finding them watering dangerously.

"You are worth so much. You are everything to me and I can't let anything happen to you. That's why I get so overbearing sometimes. I need you to be safe because you are the most important thing in my life and I can't lose you."

"But... That's not fair. I can't lose you either. Why do you get to be the one putting yourself at risk for my sake? It's selfish, Onthyes. I need you. I need you alive and by my side and not throwing yourself in front of every bad thing that comes my way."

Tears finally escape Onthyes's eyes and he wipes them away quickly with a shaky smile.

"Let's protect each other, okay?" Ventis says. "You're not my bodyguard. Not my shield or my armor. You're my best friend."

Shayah, who had been quietly putting away her suture tools, let out an exasperated groan, muttering something about "they're so fucking clueless I'm gonna kill them" as she storms out of the room.

~~~

Ventisposting taglist: @scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet @rainydaywhump

@unicornbeck @whumperofworlds

[clu-ven]

It's the Thought that Counts

It’s my birthday and I thought what better way to celebrate than a small fic with Fives!  (Apologies in advance, this isn’t proof read. Also! I'm v new to this and currently working on making a masterlist so pls bear with me lol)

Summary: Fives takes on the brutal task of trying to cook pancakes 

Tags: surprises gone wrong, fluff, minor burns, many kisses, suggestive but nothing nsfw

Word Count: 1.2k

For once, you take your time waking up. There’s no need to rush, no battle you need to hurry off to (both literally and metaphorically). Right now, there’s only one thing you need to do and that’s relax. 

As your eyes flutter open, you’re greeted by a gentle stream of the morning sun flowing in through the window. Although you have yet to check your clock, it feels too early to get up.

Shutting your eyes, you nuzzle into your pillow, stretching your arms across the soft bed sheets. You mindlessly search for your best source of warmth, assuming he’d still be fast asleep next to you. 

Even though Fives is used to getting up at the break of dawn most rotations, he tends to sleep-in whenever he gets the opportunity, which is usually when he stays over at your place, preferring to relish in your softness than get out of bed. 

But today is different. Running your hand along the bed, you find no one there. Maybe it’s later than you thought. You know Fives could only stay for a while, needing to get back to base at some point in the morning. Maybe he didn’t want to disturb your sleep and quietly left. A disappointed sigh falls from your lips, already missing his company and yearning for his touch. 

You want to bury your face in your pillow, not ready to deal with the day… but then it hits you, a smell finally reaching your nose and making you instinctively scrunch up your face. It’s an intense burning smell, causing your body to wake up immediately as panic surges through you. Any hope of falling back to sleep quickly fades away as you go on high alert. 

Jumping out of your bed, you don’t waste any time in putting on some actual clothes, stumbling across the room and down the hall in nothing but your underwear and a loose fitted t-shirt you carelessly threw on the night before.

Endless possibilities race through your mind. Did Fives decide to make himself a quick breakfast but forget to turn off the stove? Did you leave it on yesterday? Oh kriff, has the stove been on all night? Expecting to see a blazing fire, you crash into the room. 

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, Fives mutters a curse under his breath as he runs one of his fingers under water. Beside him, what looks like a charred pancake is stiffly poking out the top of a pan. A light haze of smoke envelops the kitchen, slowly drifting up towards the ceiling.

“Fives?” the words stumble out of your mouth, a mix of confusion and shock taking over.

Glancing behind his shoulder at you, Fives flashes you a forced smile. “You’re up!” he exclaims, gritting his teeth together “Great timing”.

Pulling your attention away from the cremated pancake and cloud of smoke, you focus on him. “What happened? Is your finger ok? You move deeper into the room, rushing to his side.

Without thinking, you take his hand in yours, the cool water running over your skin as you pull his finger closer to you. Fives sharply inhales as you remove his hand from the water, his finger beginning to throb again. 

“It looks worse than it is” he tries to assure you, though the bright red mark along his finger tells you differently. 

“Are you ok?” you know it’s a dumb question but you ask it anyway, worry gnawing at your stomach..

Fives nods his head, shrugging off the injury “I am, it’s just a small burn, nothing to worry about”.

“I think I have some small bacta patches around here somewhere,” you think aloud,  tentatively holding his hand in yours and inspecting his burn “hmm, it doesn't look like a third degree burn, it should heal in a few days if you don’t overwork yourself”.

Thankfully it isn’t a serious injury but it's definitely enough to give you a fright. Beginning to relax, Fives jokes “If you think this looks bad, you should see the other guy”.

Looking up at him, you raise an eyebrow “And the other guy is… a pancake?”.

He sighs at the reminder of the food, a look of defeat crossing your lover’s face. “I wanted to surprise you before I left,” he explains “and I thought it would be easy to make but I think the pancake’s won this round”. 

Letting his hand fall gently from your grasp and to his side, you bring both of your hands up to cup his face. “And it is a surprise – a good one!” you quickly add that last part, wanting to reassure Fives in any way possible. 

A small smile tugs at his lips but Fives glances over at his horrible attempt of a pancake and disappointment clouds his face once more. “Hey,” you say softly, quickly pressing your lips to his before pulling away to look at him again “it’s the thought that counts”.

You can see the love in his eyes, his adoration for both you and the endless amount of patience you have with him. Pulling you close, Fives wraps his arms around your waist and gives you a small peck on the lips before trailing kisses along your face and up to your ear. 

You giggle at the sensation, letting out a soft moan when he nips at your ear. “You sure you don’t want to try it anyways?” he asks, removing one of his arms from you and picking up the pan. You get a waft of the burnt food as Fives brings the pan closer, inspecting the catastrophe he somehow created.

“I mean, it might be edible,” he doesn’t sound very convincing “maybe it’s just well done”. With your arms around him, you bury your head in by his chest and laugh. “Yeah why don’t you bring it with you? I’m sure the General would love to have it for lunch” you call his bluff.

Fives rolls his eyes “Pretty sure they’d court martial me if I did… or they’d at least put me on sanitation for a month”.

“And you’d be the hottest ARC Trooper on sanitation” you say with a teasing smile, moving your head to peer up at him.

Fives chuckles, the vibrations warm against you. “I would be the only ARC Trooper on sanitation” he corrects you.

Placing the pan back down, his stomach grumbles, reminding you of your own need for food. “You want to try another round?” you ask, reluctantly pulling away from him and moving to the sloppy bowl of pancake batter on the kitchen counter.

You hear a low groan and Fives is quick to follow after you, his body pressing yours against the counter. Dropping his head to your shoulder, he kisses it before asking “Here or the bedroom?”.

Trying to contain a laugh, you clarify “I meant do you want to try another round of pancakes”. You can feel his body slump “Oh”.

“But…” you trail off just to tease him “if you don’t burn the next batch of pancakes then maybe you’ll get a reward”. 

“Oh!” He repeats but the quick change of tone as he practically stands to attention tells you exactly how he feels about this offer. “Well then I better get cooking,” although Fives pulls away from you, he keeps one hand on your body, gently holding you as he moves back to the stove “especially since I suddenly got this new wave of motivation”. He gives the plush of your hip a squeeze before letting go, shooting you a wink. 

You roll your eyes but you can’t hide the broad smile on your face “Get cooking, trooper”.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Food is Love | Dream Headcanon #10

Headcanon: Food is Love ♡

Genre: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

Warnings: Mentions of food?

Word Count: 2736k

Author's Note: Honestly, I feel like it's been forever since I wrote a headcanon for the Dreamies. And this specific scenario was on my works-in-progress list for weeks! My friend did help me come up with something for Chenle and Jisung, so I really have to thank her for getting me to finish this tonight. It feels nice to write something fluffy after posting a bunch of angsty stuff. An anon did send in a request about something for Haechan, and I am working on it!

Also, I don't think anyone cares. But I did see NCT Dream last week at their TDS2 concert. My bank account may be crying, but it was so worth seeing seven boys I've come to cherish so much. To me, they're more than just handsome K-pop idols. The Dreamies put a smile on my face daily, and I'm forever grateful. I really hope to see them again someday.

Anyway, I apologize for another long author's note. Thank you for reading ^ ^

~ ~ ~

MARK

This has probably been mentioned before, but Mark would be quite the attentive boyfriend. He recalled the other day the two of you were ordering food together late at night. You said something about craving a cheeseburger, but all the American food places were closed. So on your next at-home date, Mark decided he would make you the best burger ever.

Here’s the thing, Mark and cooking did not mix too well. You walked into the kitchen with a questioning look for the man. 

“Mark, dear—what are you doing?” You asked, slightly puzzled.  Ingredients were scattered across the counter, and the paper with the recipe he was using already had a stain.

His lips formed a small pout. “I know you didn’t get to have a burger the last time we hung out. So I thought I could try making one.”

You tried not to laugh at your clueless boyfriend. But you were thankful for how thoughtful he was. As he rambled on, you leaned over the counter to take a peek at the recipe.

“Oh, this doesn’t seem that hard. Let’s do it together,” You suggested, walking around to wash your hands.

Even though you meant for this to be a teamwork thing, Mark just took a step back and let you take over the kitchen. You seemed to know what you were doing, a lot more than he did. He ended up helping with the smaller things like washing the lettuce and slicing the tomatoes.

In the next hour, you and Mark were happily eating the beautiful burgers you made.

“Good job Mark!” You approved, after taking a bite. “We should do this again sometime.”

Mark shook his head and chuckled. “Yeah, but you did like 95% of the work, (Y/n).”

His words caused you to blush and mumble a sorry. Then he’d smile and reassure you with a pat on the head. Even though things didn’t go as planned, Mark was still happy to spend some quality time with you.

✎__________________________________________________________

RENJUN

He was awakened by the morning sunshine peeking through the window shades in your bedroom. A sleepy yawn left the boy’s mouth as his eyes adjusted to the natural light. When his arms reached out to stretch, Renjun noticed the left side of the bed was empty. Your absence compelled him to groggily get up to start the day.

After quickly washing up, Renjun left the room in search of his other half. Though he was at the far end of the hallway, he was still able to take in the glorious smell of something delicious.

He spotted you in the kitchen standing behind the counter with a blue plaid apron on, and your hair tied up. A smile crept on his lips, listening to you softly sing his group’s song, Sorry Heart while you poured some water into a glass.

You nearly jumped out of your spine when you heard another voice join in. Panic immediately filled your eyes.

“Huang Renjun, you’re not supposed to be up yet!”

Your boyfriend chuckled and walked over to back hug you. “Good morning to you too?”

“No no no. I was trying to make you breakfast in bed,” You sulked. This was the first time he’s stayed the night at your place, and you wanted to surprise him.

Renjun peered over your shoulder, to see the neatly arranged dishes set up on a wooden tray. 

“Is that doenjang-jjigae?” He asked, pointing to the stone bowl containing murky brown broth. Standing behind you, he realized that the soup was what he had been smelling, along with the freshly cooked purple rice.

You nodded. “And just some banchan to go with it. I also prepared some iced lemon water, since I know you like it.”

He almost wanted to cry, thinking about how much you care to put into all this. And for him? Renjun’s heart swelled with so much adoration and endearment. He turned you around so he could press his lips to your forehead.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

✎__________________________________________________________

JENO

Due to his work schedule, Jeno and you didn’t get to see each other often. But whenever he had that rare day off, he’d typically spend it with you. So he was at your apartment one day, playing with your kitten in the living room. While you were somewhere else doing who knows what. So Jeno was a little upset that you weren’t paying him attention.

Tired of waiting, Jeno placed your pet in her bed and got up to look for you.

“Jagiyaaa!” He began to whine. But then he stopped when he found you in the kitchen. He caught you while setting up your small wooden dining table, full of steaming food. You had made seolleongtang, beef bone soup, and served it with kimchi on the side.

You couldn’t help but smile at your sulky boyfriend. After placing down two bowls of rice, you walked over to hug him.

“Sorry for leaving you alone. I just wanted to make lunch for you,” You murmured.

Instantly, Jeno blushed in embarrassment as you ushered him to sit down. He didn’t expect you to be doing this sort of thing for him. You even prepared his favorite side dishes!

You watched the boy devour his food with a beaming smile. Jeno didn’t think he'd ever seen you look so overjoyed before.

“You’re like a mother watching her child.” Jeno pointed out.

The smile on your lips grew, as you used your chopsticks to place a piece of meat on top of his rice. 

“I can’t help it! Seeing you eat so well makes me happy.”

Your boyfriend laughed and shook his head. “You’re something else, (Y/n).”

Though he was teasing, Jeno was very appreciative of your sweet gesture. In the back of his mind, he was already planning to cook something for you next time.

✎__________________________________________________________

HAECHAN

The two of you only began to date a few months ago. But the moment Haechan saw you, he was already whipped. Not a week went by without his members hearing the singer gushing about your cute habits or the sweet texts you sent twice a week to check up on him. 

Recently he’s learned that you liked to cook, and he would not stop bugging you about it! He was practically dying to try your food. So one day you rushed back home after your morning class to make lunch for him. When you finished making Haechan’s bento, you had a lot of leftover ingredients. So you were able to make six other bento boxes for his members.

The way the boy’s eyes enlarged when he saw you enter the practice room carrying a bag. He had seen your text about coming to visit him but didn’t expect you to bring anything. The Dreamies greeted you with enthusiasm, happy to have a break after hours of dance rehearsal.

“You said you wanted to try my cooking right?” You smiled, placing the bag down on a table before turning to his friends. “I have lunch for you guys too!”

That was how the eight of you sat at the center of the floor in a circle, munching away. The meals you made were pretty simple. Just some bulgogi with rice and vegetables. The night before you had prepared a bunch of side dishes for today.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could cook (Y/n)! Thank you.” Mark’s compliment caused you to blush at the sudden attention. Of course, Haechan took their leader’s praise as an opportunity to brag about you.

“My (Y/n) is the most amazing girlfriend, right guys?” He boasted. “She’s adorable, kind, takes time out of her day to take care of me—”

You shyly nudged the male. “Hyuck, don’t exaggerate.”

“And she’s humble too!” Haechan added.

Jisung shook his head from across the room. “Ugh, you two are insufferable.”

“On a serious note, you better be careful Lee Haechan,” Jaemin warned, flashing a flirtatious smile. “If (Y/n) keeps bringing us home-cooked food, I might just steal her from you.”

Haechan sent a scowl that Jaemin was not fazed by. 

“Don’t try to fool yourself, Na Jaeman,” He sneered, wrapping an arm around you. “(Y/n) is mine, and she loves me very much.”

The amused smile on Jaemin’s face contorted into a look of annoyance. “Yah, I told you not to stop calling me Jaeman!”

You shook your head as the other members joined in on the bickering. Shame on you for presuming that eating with 7Dream would be peaceful.

✎__________________________________________________________

JAEMIN

For someone who thought of herself as a slightly below-average person, you didn’t know you’d have much luck with love. And somehow, you ended up catching the attention of Na Jaemin. He was probably the most caring man you’ve ever encountered. His love was never-ending, and he never held back on giving you affection.

About a month into dating, you were determined to do something for Jaemin. After all, relationships should be 50/50. Expressing your emotions outwardly was not your strong suit. So you spent a sleepless night, thinking of what you could do to show Jaemin your feelings.

Jaemin was coming back to his dorm after a recording session for an upcoming album. Though he didn’t like to admit it, today’s schedule had been a tiring one. All he wanted to do was shower and go to bed. But when he noticed your gray slip-on shoes neatly placed near the doorway, the previous exhaustion he was feeling moved to the back of his mind.

As he padded across the room, a pleasantly familiar aroma filled his nose. His eyes enlarged when he found you standing in the dining area. In front of you was a neatly set table, with two stone bowls full of soup, and a heaping plate of meat at the center surrounded by several side dishes.

Then there was you wearing a nervous smile. “I know you must be tired. But you shouldn’t go to bed on an empty stomach. And I made cheonggukjang and jeyuk bokkeum since they’re your favorite foods.” 

While you rambled, Jaemin thought his heart would explode from how fast it was beating. He sat down without saying anything, which you slowly followed. You held your breath when he picked up the spoon to try the stew.

“I know it’s not as good as your mom’s but…” Your voice trailed off. You remembered Jaemin raving about his mother’s cooking. Obviously, you couldn’t compete with her. But you were hopeful that Jaemin would still appreciate your efforts.

You watched as he took the first bite, but were unable to read his expression. A million worries flooded your head. Did he hate it? Had you seriously screwed up? What if--

“Marry me.” His deep voice put a pause to your thoughts.

It took a few seconds to process what he just said. But oh man, once you did… Instantly, you were blushing profusely and covering your face. 

“Jaemin, you can’t just say stuff like that!” You mumbled. 

Jaemin smiled at you being all flustered. He had to hold back the urge to jump across the table and give you a thousand kisses.

While eating, he listened to you cutely explain how he always took care of you and was determined to show you cared too. After you were done, he’d reach across the table to take your hand and press his lips to the back of it softly.

 “Jagiya, I seriously have the sweetest girlfriend. Thank you.”

Usually, Jaemin was the one cooking for people, especially his members. The fact that you went out of your way to make him a home-cooked meal was so touching to him. When he told you to marry him, he was half-joking. You might not have been dating for long, but Jaemin was already planning his future with you. And this kind gesture of yours just sealed the deal. The simplest actions were what made him fall for you all over again.

✎__________________________________________________________

CHENLE

He was just laying on the couch, watching 7illin’ in the Dream on his phone with Daegal  laying between his legs. Eventually, he got bored of watching himself bicker with his members over foot volleyball. Then he would casually walk into the kitchen while you were prepping some food.

The boy watched as you used a pair of tongs to neatly place some beef chow mein on two plates.

“This was my grandmother’s recipe. I wanted to try making it for us,” You explained, 

Chenle met your grandma before and he had her cooking too. But making Chinese food for him was something you’ve wanted to do since you started dating. So decided to just stick with something you were already familiar with.

You didn’t even need to look up to see the teasing in Chenle’s smile. “You think you can make it better than your grandma?” He challenged.

In response, you merely shrugged and handed him a pair of wooden chopsticks. “Maybe. Try it and tell me.”

Secretly you hoped your boyfriend didn’t notice how nervous you were as he used the utensil to slurp up some noodles. Chenle felt like something exploded in his brain because your food was unexpectedly delicious. Eating this dish brought back memories of when his mom cooked for him.

“What do you think?” You waited for his reaction expectantly.

Despite how much nostalgia Chenle was feeling right now, he wasn’t quite ready to admit your cooking exceeded his expectations.

“It’s alright,” He said. You raised an eyebrow at the boy as he began to dig further into the meal before him. 

“Only alright, huh?”

“It’s because I’m hungry.”

You held back from laughing, clearly not convinced by Chenle’s excuse. 

“Well if my food is just alright, I guess you don’t want to eat it. I’ll feed the rest to Daegal.” You faked a pout and began to pull the food away from him.

Chenle quickly tried to counter his prior words. “Yah, you can’t take away something you offered me first!”

You chuckled and shook your head before telling him to at least eat at the dining table. Later that night, the two of you were laying in his bed. 

“So…when are you going to cook for me again?” He asked out of the blue, sounding all innocent. 

You turned your head to face him. “You really think my cooking is good then?”

“Okay, okay I admit.” Chenle playfully rolled his eyes and pulled you into his arms. “So will you make something tomorrow? You said you know how to make kimchi fried rice too, right?”

Internally, your stomach was doing little flips because of how pleased you were that Chenle approved of your cooking. But you played it off, pretending to give in reluctantly.

“Okay, I guess so.”

“Yes, let’s go man!!!” He shouted in English.

You cursed at him with your eyes for being so loud when you were trying to fall asleep. Chenle laughed in embarrassment and hugged you tighter so you couldn’t escape his embrace. Strangely, the boy’s teasing only made you fall for him more. You guessed it was part of his charm.

✎__________________________________________________________

JISUNG

So Jisung was playing games on his PC when a sweet aroma encompassed him. Acting like a stray puppy, the young dancer followed the smell down the hallway. He waddled into the living room, where you were sitting at the dining table. In front of you was a fish-shaped cake pan, and beside it was a heaping plate of freshly made treats.

Jisung gasped and covered his mouth. “Wah, you made bunggeo-bang?”

“Yeah, it’s your favorite right?” You hummed. “I ordered the pan a while ago, and it finally came yesterday.”

Your boyfriend stared in awe as you picked up a piece for him to try. After the first bite, Jisung’s taste buds exploded.

“Oh, mashiso!” He pouted slightly, out of gratitude. 

Staring into your eyes sparkling with joy, made Jisung wonder where and how he got this beautiful thing from. You giggled at his reaction when the male squeezed you into a hug.

“I really love you.”  Usually saying those words were scary for him. But with you, it just felt so right.

You grinned and patted his back. “I really love you too, Jisung.”

And then the two of you went on to feeding each other bunggeo-bang and sharing a lovely moment.

✎__________________________________________________________

[alavestineneas]

King’s will

pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x OFC

summary: In the game of chess, the queen has more freedom on the chessboard. In that sense, the queen is the most powerful piece. On the other hand, the king has more value. Because if you lose the king, you lose the game. 

warnings: arranged marriage, medieval violence, slow burn

chapter 1 -> chapter 2 -> chapter 3 -> chapter 4 -> chapter 5

Spring of the year 111 AC, 

Highgarden

Otto took a sip out of the goblet, feeling a pleasant taste of Abor gold travel to his throat. It is how Gods intended the drink to be taken—slowly, under the warm rays of the morning sun. It was easy to forget oneself in those beautiful Highgarden gardens, surrounded by the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of bees. It was broadly different to King's Landing. The Westeros' cloak was nothing but dirt compared to those glorious hills. Even now, two years after his time as a King's Hand has ended, Otto felt the foul smell on his palms. 

''Enjoying our wine, Otto?'' 

 A brawny, strong figure appeared from the cool shadows of the trees. The small, prominent wrinkles covered the man's tan face, and his dark beard bore a few strands of grey. Although age and grief seemed to make a mark in his gaze, his brown, almost black eyes shone with a somewhat youthful, mischievous glimpse. 

 ''Fillis Tyrell in his full glory!'' Hightower smiled, standing up from the comfort of his chair to embrace the man in a hug. ''Beware, I may empty your cellar by the end of my stay.''

 ''You are more than welcome to, and you know it. I apologize for not greeting you earlier.'' 

 ''Don't, don't.'' Otto waved around, dismissing Tyrell like an annoying fly. ''I know how hard it is to manage without a wife.''

The man chuckled, ''Well, I'm doing my best. But I must say, it's not easy with two daughters.''

They stood in silence for a moment before Tyrell spoke up again. ''So, what do we owe the pleasure?''

"I decided to visit my friend in his magnificent castle and look at his mountains of gold myself.'' Otto raised his eyebrows, gesturing at the man's attire—black mourning cloth embroidered with golden threads. Heavy, shining jewels covered the large, noble hands and wrapped around the neck, hidden under the velvet collar. 

 ''Don't try to fool me, old fox.'' The man sat, taking a piece of fruit from the golden plate. ''The trading goes well; it always did. You are not here because of that.''

Otto raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. ''You know me too well.'' He took a sip of wine before continuing. ''I am to ask for your support.'' 

Tyrell leaned in, his eyes narrowing with interest. ''Go on.'' 

''The Realm stands at peace, but we are preparing for war, my friend.''

The man sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ''You are asking a lot of me, Otto. Going against the King's will is the highest treason.'' 

 ''The King's will doesn't take away the birthright of the firstborn son.'' Otto followed the man's gaze. Two young children played near the fountain, with a maid struggling to keep them away from the water. 

 ''I have two daughters growing. Gods know how long I am yet to live and rule here before they are alone. They can't even hold a sword, and you want me to put them at war without any protection?''

It was not just his father's love that spoke; it was the lack of gain for his house that Tyrell voiced. Not even a life-long friendship could change the man's prudent nature; although sometimes wearying, it served him well.

''What do you want in return, Fillis?'' 

 Tyrell looked at him, a playful glimpse long gone. ''Wed them. Take my daughter to Oldtown, raise her in your traditions, and make her Aegon's wife.'' 

 Otto shook his head ''I can't do that. The prince is only four; your daughter is seven.'' 

 ''I have two. Elize is an heir. She will be the Lady Paramount of the Mander, first to support your grandson's claim when the time comes. Marcella is five.'' 

 Otto looked at his friend, entertaining the proposal. The price for Tyrell's support is immense; marrying his grandson to a pig in a poke was treacherous. However, the army and gold of the Reach could hold a deadly advantage if used by an enemy. Aegon had to marry sooner or later; no other noble house would agree to send their daughter to Oldtown to be raised as his wife. Tyrells were always trusted allies of Hightowers, sharing similar goals and values. A marriage alliance with them would not only secure Hightower's position in court but also strengthen Aegon's claim to the Iron Throne. ''It is a decision we can't rush.'' He finally answered. 

 ''I am not rushing you, Otto. You are welcome to stay as long as you like.'' Tyrell raised his hand, waving. ''Marcella, come!''

A shorter girl in a blue dress turned around. She was plump, with healthy fat on her cheeks and legs. Her hair, plaited in two heavy braids, jumped when she ran over to her father, a wide smile on her face. ''Father, who is this guest?'' she asked, looking up at him with curious eyes.

 ''Ser Otto Hightower, darling.'' 

The child curtsied rather clumsily, trying her best not to fall. Fillis chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately.

''Tell me, Marcella, do you want to be a princess?" Hightower asked, his careful eyes studying the girl as if she were some rare bird. The child looked at her father, who also watched her, and thought for a moment. 

 ''No.'' She shook her head. ''I want to be the Queen.'' 

 Of course, the girl assumed it was a new game her father came up with; she was too young to understand the weight those words held. The men were silent for a moment until Tyrell spoke. 

 ''I'll be your brave knight then.'' He scooped Marcella up in his arms and spun her around, causing her to giggle with delight.

Otto watched them for a while, his thoughts far from the happy laughter. He will think about the offer later, careful not to make a mistake. For now, he can put it aside and finally speak to Fillis as a trusted friend, not as a strategic recourse. 

-

Otto stayed at the Highgarden for two more weeks, wandering through the gardens and walls of the city. He spent a lot of restless nights in the guest room, thinking about the proposal. It was not the girl that concerned him; the child was clever and vibrant, running around the castle, much to the dismay of the hoard of maids that followed her around. What kept him up at night was the possibility of a better deal that could come later. 

Tyrell was a patient man, although every patience has its limit, so as soon as the decision was made, Otto knocked at the door of his friend's chambers. Fillis was not alone, as usual; his daughters sat near the window, writing as he worked.

''Ser Otto!'' The older girl, Elize, stood up from her seat and nudged the younger one to move. Marcella waved a piece of paper with smudged ink all over it at him. 

 ''We are writing, Ser Otto," she chirped, an accusing intonation evident, as if Otto had disrupted them from a very important task. 

''I see.'' He tried to catch a glimpse of the words on the page, but the ink was too smudged to make out anything coherent.

 ''Girls, we will dine together later. Now run along, my dear. We have important matters to discuss with Ser Otto.'' 

 The older girl nodded obediently and scampered off, grabbing her sister and leaving the two men alone in the quiet room. Otto cleared his throat. 

 ''We accept your offer. Aegon will marry your younger daughter once they are of age.'' 

 ''Good.'' Fillis nodded, a wrinkle on his forehead disappearing. ''What about the King?'' 

 ''Alicent has her ways.'' Otto paused. ''The girl will study in Oldtown from the age of eleven. She will eat and live as my house's guest and receive the best education the Citadel can offer. I already sent a letter home.'' 

 Fillis nodded again. ''It seems like a definite plan,'' he said. ''When will we make an announcement?'' 

 ''No need to hurry with that; the children are still young. We have time.'' 

 The two men delved into a deep discussion about politics and economics, their voices hushed as they strategized for the future of the Realm. Hours passed before they finally emerged from the room, tired but satisfied with their progress. By the time they parted ways, Otto felt confident that he had made the right decision. He couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him as he made his way back to his chambers. 

 -

Summer of the year 118 AC, 

Highgarden

The castle's residents all stood in the courtyard, ready to say their goodbyes to the second daughter of Lord Fillis. Horses huffed under the burning sun, stablemen manoeuvring around them with buckles of water. What seemed like dozens of chests filled a few carriages. Everything seemed familiar, except for one man. With his finer armour and the confidence of a skilled fighter, he stood out the most. 

 Ser Ywain was one of the Fillis's most trusted knights, serving House Tyrell for more than ten years. He had swarthy, rough skin and thick black braids with golden rings braided in them. A massive scar was evident on his neck, and he wore it like a glorious prize. House Ambrose was small but was famous for its deadly fighters; their motto ''Never Resting'' was not an exaggeration; Ywain trained more than anyone here did, despite not needing to. For now, the man resorted to giving occasional orders to soldiers around him, his voice calm but laced with authority.

The man of the house found himself once again growing impatient. Was it from worry or the hot sun above his head? The whole thing started to get on his nerves. Fillis didn't want to lose sight of his children even for a minute since his wife's death, let alone send one to a city he held no control over. But Tyrells weren't the one to break their agreements. ''For the love of Gods, where's your sister?'' he asked his older daughter, who was waiting beside him. 

Elize shrugged her shoulders, unsure of where her younger sister had gone. ''She said she was almost ready to leave.'' She, too, was getting tired of waiting. 

 Fillis sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Just as he wanted to fetch someone to find his child, she came running.

 ''I'm here, I'm here!'' Marcella shouted, her voice breathy. ''I'm ready now.'' 

 ''You better be," her sister scoffed. 

''Darling, it's time we say our goodbyes.'' Fillis started, the irritation in his voice long gone. His daughter's eyes reminded him so much of his childhood. The same curiosity and spirit sparkled in them. While her sister, Elize, took a lot after him, Marcella looked like her mother. Tyrell could only hope they shared only good qualities. ''Be good. You will bring great honour to our house. And remember - I and Elize will wait for your letters here. Okay?''

Marcella nodded, tears streaming down her face. Fillis wiped them away gently, his heart heavy with the weight of their impending departure. 

''Come here,'' Elize mumbled, tears staining her face as well. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she did love her younger sister.

''I read your letters to that Tully. Gross.'' Marcella whispered to her sister before running to the carriage with a speed only an eleven-year-old could possess. 

 ''Marcella!'' Elize shouted, her sentiments long forgotten. The younger girl only laughed. 

As Elize watched her sister disappear into the carriage, she couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. Marcella was always so carefree and full of life. It was as if nothing could ever bring her down. Elize, on the other hand, felt weighed down by the responsibilities that came with being the eldest. Despite being the one to inherit the Highgarden, she always lost the race for her father's love. 

 As the procession started to move, she felt her father's heavy arm on her shoulder. 

 ''I guess it's just two of us from now on, darling. So, tell me about that Tully.''

 Elize felt her cheeks redden. It's going to be a long day. 

-

To the Lord of Highgarden and his daughter, Lady Elize Tyrell, greetings and deepest love.

The oldest city greeted me well. Lord Ormund Hightower and his family are the kindest of people. Their hospitality has been unmatched, and I am grateful for their warm welcome. The grand feast was held in honour of our house upon my arrival. 

Politics and economics fascinate me, but I also enjoy more lighthearted pursuits, such as dancing and horse riding. There is something so freeing about moving your body to music or feeling the wind in your hair as you ride through the countryside. And yet, despite all of these activities, I always make time for writing. So when I write to you, know that it comes from a place of deep sincerity and affection.

To my pity, I haven't been able to see much of the city yet, but one building caught my eye. If I am not mistaken, it is a new Sept. I hope to visit it one day, for I am sure it is even more stunning from the inside. 

These things, about which I write to you, are only a few of the many that I have done here. May the Seven watch over you, and may your lands prosper and your people thrive under your wise leadership.

Written in the summer of the year 118 AC

Your loving sister and daughter, 

Lady Marcella of Noble House Tyrell 

[anxious-witch]

Inertia 6

Summary: Newton's first law expresses the principle of inertia: the natural behavior of a body is to move in a straight line at constant speed. In the absence of outside influences, a body's motion preserves the status quo.

Jan choose a direction of his life the moment he walked out of his parents house and cut all contact with them. He didn't want anything to do with them, or God anymore. Even his soulmark he wished he could leave behind. But when Nace Jordan joins the band, with a mark matching his own, can Jan keep going the same way he did? Or will the force make him change a direction?

Pairings: Jan Peteh/Nace Jordan

Warnings: Warning for mentions of religions trauma as per usual, but other than that…I think we might not have any other upsetting things here? Shocker, I know

Notes: AO3 link

A couple of things. First of all, this is second to last chapter! Congratulation to everyone who made it this far with me, I cannot believe I actually got this far into this fic. That said, next update might happen on a Sunday rather than a Saturday, due to my uni assignments. I will try my best to make it in time, but y'know, better safe than sorry.

But yeah! Finally, we are getting to some hurt/comfort and some talking! Enjoy it, you've earned it with all the angst

"I'm not too gone to be healed, am I? I'm not too gone am I?"

- Alice Notley, from In The Pines: Poems; "In The Pines,"

Jan slipped back to consciousness slowly. He firstly became aware of how heavy his body felt. Then of how dry his throat was.

He struggled to open his eyes. They were heavier than usual. It reminded Jan of how it felt to fall asleep while crying. Wait…was he crying?

That made his recall the events of the previous night and he jerked upright. Which proved to be a bad idea because he immediately felt his head pound.

"You have water and a pill on the table. I will start making coffee," Kris said, peering from the kitchen.

Every day, Jan was more convinced Kris was an angel. Jan owed him an apology and a hug. Once his head stopped pounding, though.

So he took the pill and drunk the water. Living room was only partially lit up, for which Jan was also grateful. Anything bright certainly wouldn't help.

Kris came back and pressed the warm coffee cup in his hands. His coffee cup. Jan stared at the dark red cup, trying to recall when he started having a cup that was only his in Kris' place.

All the cups in his parents' house were the same. Pure white with a golden circle near the rim. One of them slightly chipped at the rim and Jan used it all the time, until his mother noticed and threw it away.

There was probably something to be said about him liking things that are different, even if they are a little damaged.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he said, staring at his coffee.

Kris sighed. Out of the corner of his eye, Jan saw him tap his fingers against the couch. His typical nervous gesture.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize things have gotten so bad. I don't-I don't think I ever saw you react the way you did last night. God, Jan, you were terrified and you were paranoid and I-"

Kris took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. For a few seconds he didn't speak at all. Jan would have, but he knew Kris wasn't finished talking. So he stayed quiet, giving Kris time to compose himself.

"I think you need to start seeing a therapist. And you have to talk to Nace. I can be there when you do, but for fuck's sake, Jan. I texted him yesterday after you fell asleep and he wasn't okay."

Jan began picking on his already ruined nail. Kris was right. He knew he was right. But Jan was terrified of this very thing for so long, he wasn't sure he would be able to just face it head on.

"What if I can't?"

He finally met Kris' eyes. His blue eyes that were too clear to hide anything, but always had the ability to burn right through you, to see to the very core of you.

Was it a blue eyes thing? Or did Kris and Jure simply share that trait?

"Yes, you can. You are one of the strongest people I know. But it's not weak to ask for help, Jan. Don't let your parents ruin this for you."

Jan pulled him in a hug. Kris froze, clearly not expecting it, before he melted into the embrace.

"Thank you. For everything."

Kris chuckled, but Jan heard a slight hitch to his breath. Almost like he was tearing up.

"Why do you make it sound like I will never see you again?"

Jan hugged him tighter.

"I should have said it earlier. Although, there is always a plan on moving to Antarctica if everything goes south."

Kris laughed and then he was the one crying. So Jan did the same as Kris did to him last night-he held him. They both felt fragile.

Kris showed emotions more easily than he did, but Jan also thought he never truly let himself experience them to the depth that they really ran. When he cried, he didn't sob, instead letting tears run down his cheek in a manner that seemed almost glorified. Where someone would look at him and still think he was pretty.

Jan preferred to either fall apart fully or not at all.

"You really fucking scared me, you asshole. Don't do that again."

He rubbed Kris' back in slow, comforting motions. His mind was starting to go through possible options, but it was still too clouded with panic for him to come with a solid plan.

"I don't know what to do now," he admitted quietly, "I don't know how to even talk to him. What to tell him."

Kris slowly pulled back, but he still kept his hand on Jan's shoulder.

"Let's go step by step, okay? Go home, eat something. Have a shower. Then call him. Don't text, call him."

Jan made a face. He did hate phone calls with burning passion. They were awkward at the best of circumstances. These were certainly not the best of circumstances.

"I know you hate phone calls. But in these kinds of situations, messages can be easily misread. So call him and set up a time to meet. As for what to tell him...I don't have a better advice than telling him the truth."

Jan buried his face in his hands. The truth? What was the truth at this point? He wasn't even sure he knew himself.

"That's about as helpful as telling me to just breathe underwater."

Kris sighed.

"How about you do the rest first and then look at the situation again? As much as I hate to say it...sometimes you have to jump first and ask questions later."

"Fine," Jan said sourly.

He doubted he'd come up with any better plan just by showering and eating, but he saw no point in arguing. So he hugged Kris one more time and went home. This time with his bag and keys.

He did everything Kris said, but he felt no closer to the solution on how to approach Nace. His phone laid on the table, screen up. Jan stared at it as if it was a time bomb.

Nace didn't try to contact him. Except for few phone calls from yesterday after he ran off, but nothing today. Whatever Kris told him clearly made him wait for Jan's move.

Jan wished he wouldn't. He didn't know what to say.

He grabbed his bag and out his phone in it and then went outside. Perhaps a walk would clear his head.

It was cold and gloomy outside. The fog settled heavy over the city, and Jan only saw few meters ahead as he walked. Still, that didn't stop him.

He walked and walked, until his feet hurt. Then he spotted a nearby bench and sat on it, catching his breath. He still felt lost. He wasn't even sure he knew exactly where he was, as lost in thoughts as he was while he walked.

A sound of church bells snapped him out of it. Jan flinched, looking around with wide eyes. Was he hallucinating again?

But, no. There stood a church, cloaked by the fog. And Jan felt compelled to get closer. So he did.  He got all the way to the church, close to the entrance. Only then he stopped, frozen in place.

He could hear the wait sound of a mass going inside. There was no way he was going inside, but he could listen in. He leaned on the wall of the church and closed his eyes. Just listening.

It was hard to tell how long he stood there, listening in. He was so focused on it he missed the sound of steps approaching him.

"I am sorry, young man?"

Jan's eyes flew open, his heart leaping in his throat. A man stood in front of his, peering at him worriedly. For a brief second, Jan thought he was a priest, but on a second glance he realized he was actually a deacon, his clothes giving him away.

"Um. Right, sorry. I should probably leave," Jan said awkwardly, pushing himself from the wall.

"No, no need. I just thought you might be more comfortable inside. It is quite cold out here."

Jan bit his lip. Dread settled in his gut once again. He didn't think he could make himself go in. Face the inside of the church, the prayer. It was still to raw.

"No, thank you. I don't think I'd be welcome, either way."

"Everyone is welcome into the church."

He couldn't quite stop the sharp, bitter laugh that escaped him.

"Right. Of course. Everyone is welcome as long as they can obey your rules, no?"

Deacon gave him a long, pitying look. Jan felt his skin crawl. If he hated one thing, it was pity. He turned his head away, but before he could walk away, deacon spoke again.

"There are God's guidances, of course, but I wouldn't call them rules. Rules sound so rigid and human life and morality are so easily bent by situations we find ourselves in."

Jan stared at the man before him. He had never, ever heard someone religious, someone connected to the church, speak in such a way. Nace came the closest and even then, it wasn't the same.

"You-so what, "You shall not kill", is simply a guidance?"

Deacon gave him a gentle smile.

"Some are stronger than the others. But in a situation where it is self defense, is that truly a sin? A mother killing someone while protecting her child, is it something that should need forgiving? We are just human, after all."

He swallowed. This felt surreal. Like he was within a dream, and he was talking to his own subconscious.

Whatever it was, the unreality of it made Jan wanted to ask more question. He wanted to know more. He could always walk away, couldn't he?

"So...if almost everything is subjective, how can you know if you are doing a good or a bad thing? How do you...know what's right?"

Deacon patted his own chest.

"Most of us have the ability to feel right or wrong. There are exceptions of course, but there are usually other reasons for it. We all have...inner guidance, so to speak. No matter if you see it as given from God, or simply a part of you, it can help you decide on what's right thing to do."

Jan exhaled slowly, watching his breath curl like smoke in the air. His own chest felt frozen, but as he focused more, he swore he could almost feel a tug. A spot of light.

He needed to go to Nace. To be honest with him. To tell him-

His fear extinguished his hope almost immediately, cloaking him in darkness. Jan squeezed his eyes shut. He was too damaged ti be fixed.

"What if...what if it's too late to do the right thing? What if it's too late to fix me?"

The other man didn't say anything for a moment. The only sound came from a church choir. Jan felt his heart sink.

"It is never too late. Not unless we are dead. And perhaps, not even then."

Jan's hand drifted underneath his hair, to his soulmark. He traced it, almost hesitantly. He did his best to forget it was there for so long, it was odd to acknowledge it.

"I can't be anything other than what I already am."

He opened his eyes to see deacon giving him another soft smile. It was odd, how honest he was being. He supposed the fact that the other man didn't know who he was helped. To him, he could be anyone.

"Have you tried? To be another person?"

Jan furrowed his brows.

"I don't understand."

The deacon nodded.

"We can't become new people overnight. But we can do things that'll help take us in the right direction. Is there anything you can do to fix your mistake right now?"

He took in a deep breath in. Then exhaled slowly.

"I could talk to my soulmate. But I don't know if I can be what he needs."

Jan realized that the right pronouns tumbled from his lips too late. He froze, but the deacon's face didn't change. If he was phased, he didn't show it.

"Well. You can't know unless you talk to him, can you?"

Jan chuckled, almost surprised that he didn't immediately change his answer. What parallel reality did he walk into?

"I suppose not. But won't you tell me that my soulmate can't be a man?"

Deacon shook his head.

"God gives us our soul’s companions for a reason. Who am I to question God's decision of giving you two a soul bond, regardless of the gender?"

He swallowed. There was something else he needed to ask. He always had to keep prodding, didn't he?

"And what if...what if I don't believe in God anymore?"

Deacon reached his hand out and tentatively put his hand on Jan's shoulder. Jan expected to feel uncomfortable, but he wasn't. It was simply a warm touch.

"They are different ways to believe. Some of us need more guidance to get through life. From God, from the church from others. Others simply need to live and be happy. Is it not God's will for all of us to live to our fullest potential, no matter which path we take?"

Jan suddenly found it hard to swallow. His eyes stung and he closed them, willing himself not to cry. He took in a shaky breath.

"Can it really be that simple?"

Deacon squeezed his shoulder gently.

"Life is simple, once we learn to let go of things that weight us down."

Jan took another deep breath before opening his eyes. He met deacon's kind gaze.

"Thank you."

He got a pat on the shoulder before the other man let go.

"We all need a bit of extra guidance sometimes. I wish you your best in your pursuit of happiness."

Jan nodded, a lump in his throat too heavy for him to say anything else. Yet, despite it all, when he turned and began to walk back, he felt lighter than he did in a very, very long time.

He wasn't sure what made him come up directly to Nace's doorstep. He was holding a box of gluten free cookies in hands that he had picked up during his small detour on the way here. Suddenly, he wasn't sure why he had gone to get them at all, but it wasn't important. He was here, at Nace's front door. That was the part that mattered. He could leave the cookies for someone else if Nace didn't want them.

He rang the doorbell before he could change his mind. It echoed through the apartment for a moment, before he heard a sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. Then the door opened.

Nace stood in the doorway. He wore a dark green hoodie and sweatpants, his hair in an unusual disarray. There were dark circles under his eyes and Jan couldn't help but wonder if he slept at all.

"Hi," he said, awkwardly holding up a bag of cookies, "I bought cookies. They are gluten free."

Nace stared at him, unmoving. He opened his mouth and closed it few times before clearing his throat.

"What are you doing here?"

Jan shifted from one foot to the other. It was the moment of truth, he supposed.

"I wanted to talk to you. May I come in?"

There was a brief hesitation before Nace stepped back and allowed Jan to come in. The doors closing with a soft click felt more significant than it should have been.

Jan wordlessly handed Nace the cookies while he took off his boots and a jacket. Nace simply watched him, as if trying to comprehend Jan was really here. He supposed he deserved that.

Nace led him to the dining room instead of the living room. Which was odd, but Jan didn't question it. He got them both glasses of water before sitting across from Jan.

Oh. He choose this because he could face him more directly. Jan let his hair fall over his face a bit, suddenly uncomfortable under Nace's heavy gaze.

"So," Jan said awkwardly, "about yesterday. I'm sorry."

A paused. Nace stared at him, as if prompting him to continue, but Jan didn't know where to begin with explaining himself.

"Is that it? You came here to tell me you are sorry for running off?"

Jan winced. Nace's usual patience seemed to not be present today. Just when Jan needed it the most.

"No. I just-maybe it would be easier if you asked me things and I answered? I don't know where to begin."

Nace chuckled, but not in his usual, heartfelt way. He sounded tired.

"Alright. How about, why the fuck didn't you tell me? You had to know."

Jan shrugged. He felt uncomfortable in a way he didn't in awhile. So he answered the first thing he thought of. His go to answer on the topic.

"Didn't seem that important to me. I don't exactly believe in all that soulmate stuff anyway."

That was clearly the wrong thing to say. Nace's gaze sharpened. His mouth twisted in an angry grimace.

"So what? I am good enough to fuck, but not good enough to be your soulmate?"

"No!"

Jan reached out, to grab Nace's hand, but stopped himself just short of making contact. He let his hand fall back to the table.

"No," he said softer, "that's not how it is at all."

"Then explain to me how it is."

Nace's voice was almost forceful, slamming into Jan's chest like a punch. Jan closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on that little shed of hope he still held.

"I lied. I don't see soulmates as bullshit I just-I wish I did. I wish I could not care at all and that I could hate you and that by refusing you by refusing this make my parents be wrong."

He took in a shaky breath. Nace didn't say anything so he continued.

"Because feeling like I was incomplete without you, without some divine intervention seems so fucked up to me. Because I choose to play in a band because my parents didn't approve and didn't like that it took away from my time in the church. And yet that being a thing that led me to you is so frustrating! Did I have any free will at all?"

Jan finally opened his eyes again, taking in Nace's expression. Nace was pale, and his brows furrowed, probably trying to follow his thought process.

"Alright. So let me see if I got this right. Your parents had harmful religious views on soulmates so you don't want to even consider this, us, because you feel like you had no choice in the matter?"

That wasn't quite a fair assessment of what he said, but Nace wasn't entirely wrong, either. As much as Jan wanted to fix things, it was hard to get past the feeling of helplessness.

"I'm-not quite but I suppose that's a gist of it. I don't have anything against you, not really. But I hate not having a choice in any of this."

Nace lifted one eyebrow.

"You mean, like not giving me any real choice in the matter by not telling me a very important detail?"

Fuck. That wasn't fair.

"That's not the same."

Nace shrugged.

"Isn't it?"

Jan struggled with what to say to that. Isn't it the same? Was he truly taking away his choice in all of this?

"Let me ask you something. Did you find me attractive when we first met? Ignore the soulmark, ignore everything else."

He swallowed, blush slightly painting his cheeks as he remembered Martin's comment about him checking out Nace during their first encounter. He definitely found him attractive from the start.

"Yes."

"And if there was no soulmark involved, would you have acted upon it at some point?"

His answer came in an instant. Absolutely. Jan was certain of it. He still would have taken some time to observe Nace, but without having to be cautious of the soulmark, he would have certainly acted earlier.

"Yes."

Nace leaned in, his breath ghosting over his face and Jan had the urge to pull him even closer. Instead, he was frozen in place, staring at those dark eyes.

"So by insisting on hating me, you are, in fact flat out refusing for anything to happened between us because of the soulmark. Not because you don't like me. How is that a natural choice on your part?"

Jan could hear his own blood ringing in his ears. Felt his heartbeat. Thud, thud, thud. It sounded like everything around him crashing down.

"I-" he swallowed, then cleared his throat, but no words came.

Nace waited patiently, simply looking at him. Like he didn't just pull the foundations of his world apart with few sentences.

"God, Nace," he said at last, "What do you want?"

"I want you to stop hiding behind the excuse of having no control and work with me. I can't help you unless you let me. So please do tell me what is your actual problem with me."

Jan worked his jaw. He focused on his nails. He reapplied the nail polish on his left hand yesterday, so it was perfect. Too perfect. He began to peel it off.

Then Nace reached out and covered his palms with his own, stopping his movements. Jan froze.

"Tell me," Nace urged, his softer now.

That finally made Jan snap.

"I can't give you what you want, alright? There was no point in giving you false hope about it."

Silence. Nace's mouth slightly fell open before he managed to scold his face into a more neutral expression. Jan felt more uncomfortable than he possible ever did in his life.

That thought kept bothering him on his way to here, though. Even if he was willing to do this, he could never do it in a way traditional to soulmates. He simply couldn't.

"And what is that you think that I want?"

Nace's voice was leveled. Controlled. Almost too controlled. He was definitely holding his emotions back. Jan just couldn't quite tell what those emotions were, at the moment.

Still. He owed him the truth, at the very least.

"You are a simple man. You want to settle down, have your secure little fairy tale with someone you love. Maybe even a family. I can't give you that."

So many emotions flickered over Nace's face. Disbelief, anger, hurt. Jan looked away.

"Did I ever say that's what I want?"

Jan sighed. He tried to pull his hands away from Nace's, but Nace tightened his hold on them.

"No. But I overheard you and Bojan talking about soulmates several times."

"Hypotheticals are different than the actual situations."

Jan rolled his eyes. He completely turned his head away this time. Clearly, this conversation wasn't leading anywhere.

Nace grabbed his chin. Jan froze, expecting it to hurt, for Nace to forcefully drag him into a kiss. Instead, Nace gently turned his head back towards him.

"Listen to me. I am only asking for a chance to get to know you. For you to get to know me, before you make any judgments."

His eyes shone with determination and now Jan couldn't look away.

"You fascinate me and you frustrate me and I want to know what you think and how you think. I want to get to know you properly. Can you at least give me a chance for that? No promises need to be made, just that we'll try. See where it goes. Maybe we work better as friends. That's also fine. But we won't know unless you give it a chance. Does that sound reasonable?"

Jan nodded slowly. He breathe through the panic rising in his chest. Somewhere, deep inside him, he knew that whatever this will involve into, won't be just friendship. But it was far too early to say that.

"Yeah, alright."

And Nace smiled, like a light shining at the end of a dark street. It was soft, almost hesitant smile.

"Alright."

It was a start.

[tvcore-productions]

Box full of shards(WIP title)

Chapter 1 of a Gengar taking care of a clefairy egg (1 introductions)

{Currently: only the Oneshot part of it, I need to fix up the fighting scene and than puzzle that it together <3 need that over 1k mark}

Chapter 2/The Filler Chapter

Blanket full of "So?" i don't care {not real title}

A filler full of blankets and Eye's{The fic that's two chapters combined so I can have 1k words}

I just noticed some grammer mistakes, im sorry I feel to laxy not to edit. I apologies, but ima keep going with writing(missed two days of writing 1k a day woops). Im sorry I dont have beta reader, not the best editing ability, ill feel way to down on myself to write. I gotta write more, and deal with plot holes and bad transitions scenes... After novemebr when the challenge is over, or ill fix It in nov 7th if I get an unbiased beta-reader/editer. you can dm or comment my mistakes or criticism please

after all, my motto is "Atleast i have writign to get criticized!" gotta be positive on me having bad writing, when I'm trying to get writing habits

Gengar looks at the Pansage, and the pansage looks back at them. A lot more terrified than the Gengar thought they’d be, even after ran to hide. The air felt stiff, till Arachnia put oranges, and cinnamon sticks in a ceramic bowl of water.

Gengar observes that Arachnia changes the ice-stone with a fire-stone. Just rare items, used for convenience, how rich.

Gengar looks over the market counter for the berries and wood boxes filled with ‘green tea’ or ‘tea’ as carved in footprints. Odd. But it had patterned leaves and a painted color, so that helped.

The Pansage was gone, the door having a smoke of dust.

Gengar strolled around the market, looking at the Zorou and Phantump playing in the middle of the street around the stained glass of the moon with a crashing star being hit by the sun. Their parents watched between the warehouses, in chairs with swirls patterned on the back, drinking herbal tea from the green camping bag the taller tree had.

They glared looking at the Gengar strolling through the other side of the market, near the end of a sturdy little cafe being quite tall over an Aggrons height.

“Hope you take your egg on a nice walk, heard it nice for their soul to gather the energy around them.”

A Kadabra advises, leaning their legs on the table. 

The Gengar glances at their card the one on Kadabra's thumb is shaped like an ornate mirror with a reflective surface in luminous colors, a card with eyes in darkness with distorted borders effect and the third one is not so visible.

Gengar smiled and nodded.

…

“I think the egg they have might be fairy type,”

“How”

“Because I'd hear, and read that Gengar believes that having Aggrons blood is good for their kid, cause of them thinking ol cave divers are a dragon type.” Kadabra slams their cards on the table, showing the last cards a haunter. “That's a why”

The muscular-type Pokemon smiled and rested their hands to look at the Kadabra conspiracy, “Isn't that a little odd?”

“Yes, that is. A typing blood for some superstitious reason and Gengar usually lived here for the human era that was a common superstitious. Gengar might know some dead humans.”

“And… What?” The Pokemon got slapped on the back of the head by a palm, “You don't know what you're talking about, reading Pokemon's mind made your brain scramble.”

“I was there, I just haven't seen Gengar come out often or at all.”

“Yeah but know we might, just with an egg.”

–

Gengar takes their egg on a walk

Gengar looks at the sign with a purple Rattata with a mustache and train station cap.

Looking over the railway station they found themselves. They walked up the stairs with white tiles, up from the dirt path of railways.

“Well good afternoon, I am the train conductor of the station supervising the train tracks welcome.”

Gengar adjusted holding the egg, “Hi…”

“You came out of the railway, well that's unsafe. But I guess from being a ghost type and all, it wouldn't phase you. ”

Rattata peaked over the egg.

“Oh you have an egg, congrats, is it yours.”

“Yeah, em” Gengar looked at the egg, “Found it.”

“Have this.”

Gengar received thin yarn, twiddling the tail of the yarn in its Rose onyx shade (Purple).

“This is a secluded part of ‘Rayvoush Bay’ because it's under my operation for when the train comes in.”

Rattata took Gengar to the next route, to a nice bustling of water and light right on top of the center.

“Visit Frillish’s Grills, they have nice shells.”

Rattata waved, hopping off from the barrel.

Gengar was in the middle of the market, there were a lot of wide bridges and a lot of water sidewalks. Seeing some Magikarps cross paths, and looking down to see its own market to blurry, but the guess was close guess.

Gengar hobbled a little over to more of the land area, that had smaller water paths for fish pokemon to make trades with the rodent marketers.

Gengar could hear the wings flapping overhead, and a crisp orange leaf fell into the water paths.

They pass gazes with a Lucario. Gengar stopped by to look at some heaters, “Oh hey did you come with that Lucario.” Gengar's smile faded as they looked at Lucarios chivalrous stare.

“No.”

Gengar is a bit scared all in all. Just would it be awkward to go in the shadows, they couldn't bring the egg with them… They didn't fully trust themselves it wouldn't break the egg.

Gengar walked down the patterned tiled path more bluer than the second, finding a subway exit.

Gengar had redecorated.

Organized, fixed the place, and rearranged the contents of a box of old collected electronics. Some were gifts from scares, and some were found fair and square.

Gengar had unfolded a patchwork knitting blanket that mostly bled in the pinkest of shades.

The first patch in the right corner was of a mushroom, the second patch was a cloud, and the third was moss shrubs on a tree growing small clusters of purple flowers.

Down the tree and on the second row of patches was a pinned purple mirror on the swirls of the carefully knitted tree, then the star, and then another pair of clouds with flowers.

On the last row, the full Moon sparkled with small purple stars, the second patch was grass with purple knitting, and just by the tree was a stack of purple books.

Gengar turned it around; determination sparked a clear blaze in their eyes.

{This is slapped on part because turns out, up, those words are 957 around it. Wich is good, but ima cut some parts up for conflict cause I ain't editing all that Fr need beta-erader but hey this might be good. Still using prompts, even if its unexcpect}

“Hey! You have a Clefairy’s egg?”

Gengar looked to the entrance of their home, resting on their arm. Seeing a Bunnary with belts and a roll-out bag. Oh yeah and the same Lucario they had seen before, and without the blur of the small crowd their fur is a bit dirtied

“You know as a ghost-type Pokemon the only thing you can do is steal heat for yourself.” The Bunneray gripped their bag, “That Egg won't make it through the winter.”

"So?"

The Lucario beside them’s ears flicked more inwards, pointing at Gengar “... Ah.”

Gengar felt threatened, in their home. What point do they have to come down here? Do they like hunting?

“Hold it right there!”

The Lucario shouted.

“Is anyone here too scared to ask why this Gengar had an Egg!” The Lucario called out.

The Pokemon murmurs ‘Hey fights gonna happen’, Putting Gengar at ease from fully getting up.

The Lucario started to go on a tirade of mournful song, of the swanne’s migrations mourning.

“What you gonna do, you're a cliched fool. You know that don’t you.” 

“If I'm cliche what are you.”

Gengar’s eyes dimmed and sharpened arresting glare. Flinching the Lucario from their half-made stance, their feet patting the dirt in adrenaline.

Gengar gets themselves up, placing the egg behind one of the rocks.

“It’s always the less self-aware ones that are for me.”

The shadows seemed darker or was the Gengar in the shadows? Gengar eye’s intrinsic aura is overshadowed by Gengar's glare. The Lucario froze from taking their last step away.

Gengar shouted, causing to Lucario flinch, “A day of cliches! How Unbearable” A melded fist of shadows hit Lucario straight in the head,

"A day of the Frillish and a day of no task, how disappointing you showed up."

The Lucario seemed faster. Taking a few steps back a bit faster, and zigazing with their claws melding into steel.

Lucario's paws ached, weighing them down at the thought of using ‘steel claws’ again. Lucario adjusted their stance back up.

Gengar was feeling curious punching the Lucario around, until there was the Lucarios head smacking theirs in an agonizing migraine.

Gengar didn't learn any other moves, and might just break the aura detected. Was it even used in battle? I mean it'll probably hurt.

Gengar sure might've been amature in some aspect of being a ghost-type, maybe not average but not bad. There were just posing curses that worked well too.

Making their Bunnery friend have to frag them all the way back from the steps of their homes.

The 3 Finneon circling that usually pool river knew about the curse. The old Clamperl and Shellder couples sure enjoyed the little fight. The Pansage only stared down at the Gengar. After looking at the Pokemon in the river, he tried looking at the Pokemon watching from the cliffside.

The Kadabra beside them was only just as entertained.

"Yknow maybe this is a good resting spot for an old sport like me."

A Qougsire hit the tree, "Sure, and I won the deck of colorful card games from stealing your third card sour Litten"

"It was a rare card"

"It wasn't even shiny like the mirror"

"Yeah, I just could've had a cool combo"

"Haha, yeah it would've been."

Qougsire mumbled the last part out quietly, "I don't know how the game works"

The Kadabra pointed from their tree wagging the hips, "Hah you were fluking!"

"I just joined the game, it felt obvious."

Aggron was one of the many Pokemon that were there, with a Hoothoot kid on their head and a Swanne next to them. They were on the other side of the cliff, being able to see the Gengar from in between the trees.

"Is the Gengar gonna eat us"

"Mm maybe"

The Aggron watched the Gengar pick up their, hidden from the rocks.

Entering back to their den, the Gengar pats the Clefairy egg. Wishing to tell it something more, of things they don't truly know. Because some fears just don't seem reasonable to always tell a child.

Let alone one that hasn't even hatched out of its cradle.

Gengar floats up to their homey room, placing the Clefairy egg on the willow tree's leaves cushions, and pin missiles. With one little wooden thorn, blood dried off on the leaves too.

The Gengar sighs and lays down beside the egg.

--- Oneshot of fluff Fused with Chapter 2

Life… of a train conductor https://traintrackshq.com/life-of-a-train-conductor/ I loved the rattata oc idea, i have 2 pokemon train conducters oc, one from a separate insane 7 sins isekai pmd RPG fic <3

Oc i made it just for filler, my thoughts on ‘mystery dungeons devlopaning recently’ was made in outlines.

Lilith G. F

MOURNING; SIDEWALK; STEPS

i didnt know add mournaning considering the changes, but like. Maybe the lucario died or something, interpertble

I guess the aggron side plot is removed where he helps takes a swanne whos escorted by a lucario named guard to migrate on sea in another forest.