#they try to kill each other and long story short they end up falling in love :)

[enigmatic-enigmas]

THE MASOCHISM TANGO!

[sluttysnowangel666]

His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)

summary: two years following the death of cregan’s first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryen’s daughter. rhaenyra’s daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts cregan’s first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.

cw: mean cregan😓, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyra’s daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending

do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( i’m unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts… oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love ❤️

“How do you feel, my love?” Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.

You sighed. “Nervous.”

She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. “I know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.”

“I know, mother.” You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Had it been any other lord I would have surely declined but… Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.”

You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.

It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.

Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.

You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.

You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.

You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.

��My princess.” You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. “Winterfell is yours.”

You bow in return, “No need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.”

He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.

“Please show the princess to her chambers.” He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.

You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.

You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.

Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.

When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.

You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.

There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didn’t bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.

It was here you met Cregan’s son, Rickon.

“Hi, little one.” You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.

“Rickon, this is my new wife.” Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didn’t even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his father’s leg.

“I apologize.” Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.

“It is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.” You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.

“Excuse me, princess.” He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.

You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didn’t care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.

You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.

Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve put Rickon down… Would you please accompany me to my chambers?”

You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.

“Is it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?” The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.

“No!” Cregan nearly barked the order. “There will be no bedding ceremony.”

The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.

“Princess.” Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.

You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.

He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.

Did he share these chambers with her?

Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you weren’t, he didn’t care.

“Um, could you help, my lord?” You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.

He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.

His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.

He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.

You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadn’t moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.

He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.

He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.

“Is this alright with you, princess?” He asks. “We need not consummate this if you are not ready.”

For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.

You nodded, “Is it alright with you, Lord Stark?”

He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.

He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.

“Oh, gods.” You mumbled under your breath.

He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.

He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.

Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.

You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.

“Please, please.” You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.

“What?” He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.

He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.

You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didn’t stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.

Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.

He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.

He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.

You said nothing, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.

———

It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.

You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didn’t hover.

“Mummy!”

“Sh, sh, love.” You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.

Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. He’d gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.

“Mummy.” He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, “Nooo. Not mummy.”

“Mummy.” He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.

“What ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?”

“He is not your son.” You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. “And his hair is fine.”

“Apologies, my lord.” You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.

“Come, Rickon.” He said, beckoning his son.

“No, mummy.” Rickon whined, holding you.

“Go see papa.” You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.

Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.

You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.

You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.

You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.

That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You looked in the mirror and saw Cregan’s half sister, Sara, enter.

“Hi, Sara.” You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.

“I heard what happened today.” She said, and you hummed mindlessly. “My brother can be a bastard.”

You smiled at her in the mirror. “Is that so?”

She nods. “I wish I knew what to do, Sara.”

“We northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brother’s heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I don’t know why.”

“Was Aly pretty?” You ask.

“You have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.” She kisses the back of your head. “Throw a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.”

You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.

You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldn’t care anyway.

A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Sara’s name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.

You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.

“My princess.” A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. “Rickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.”

You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadn’t expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his “mother.”

You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.

“Mummy.” He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.

“I thought he requested me by my name.” You said.

“That is your name, princess… to him.” The maid closed the door.

You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. “You know papa doesn’t like that word.”

“Mummy.” He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.

“Say it okay.” He says.

“Hm? What do you mean, child?” You ask.

“She say it okay to call you mummy.”

“Who?”

“Mummy did.”

“No, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.”

“Not you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.”

“You confuse me, Rickon.”

“Mummy says ignore papa.” You chuckle softly.

“Sleep now, my love.” You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.

You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.

You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.

You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.

“Gods, you scared me!” You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.

You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.

“I heard you sing to him.” He says softly. “Where did you learn that song?”

“He taught me it.” You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.

“Cregan?” You say confused, turning to look up at him.

He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Cregan’s sudden change of behavior.

He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.

“Not here.” You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.

You both hadn’t even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.

He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.

Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.

He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.

You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.

Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.

“Fuck, Alysanne.” He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.

You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.

He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.

You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.

He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.

You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldn’t waken. In reality, you could’ve started screaming and he wouldn’t have woke, or even shuffled.

You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.

“My sister!” Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. “Oh my gods, did you and Cregan just…?”

You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. “Wait, sister what is wrong? What happened?”

You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.

—

“Mother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.”

You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.

“Jacaerys?” You said, when your eyes landed on him.

“I take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.” He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.

“I guess you could say that.” You said, wiping your hair to the side.

“You’re disgusting.” He says.

“Gods, five minutes you’ve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!” You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.

You push him out of your room.

“Don’t touch me, wench!” He whines, smacking your arms.

“Piss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.”

“I’d rather harass the Lady.” You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.

You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. “Jace, I said-“

You don’t finish your sentence, since as you open the door it’s Sara.

“I wanna talk about last night.”

“I don’t.” You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.

“What happened?” She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.

“Did my brother hurt you?” She asks, worried.

“No, no.”

She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Tell me what happened.”

You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. “We had sex.”

“Isn’t that good? What went wrong?”

“He called me Alysanne.” You sob out.

“Oh, no.” She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.

“I cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.”

“I am sorry, princess.” She says, sadly. “I thought I knew my brother better than that… Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.”

You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.

You cleaned yourself up and went to Cregan’s chambers, knowing he would be hungover.

And you were right.

You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now you’ve been in his chambers.

“You can set it on the table.” He says, not moving the rag.

“What?”

“Oh.” He says, his voice changing in tone. “I thought you were the maid.”

You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.

“Can whatever you’ve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.” He asks, only the question is more of a statement.

“No.” You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. “We’re going to talk, Cregan. We’ve been married for months and I don’t think we’ve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. You’ve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and I’m tired of it. I’ve helped raise your son, I’ve loved you and I’ve cared for you even when you didn’t want it. You owe this to me.”

He sighs, defeated. “You are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?”

“No, Cregan. We will talk now.”

“You wouldn’t rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?”

“No. Now.” You say. He sighs again.

“Say your piece.”

The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.

He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.

“Oh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-“

“Do not speak to me about my wife, ever!” He yells, pointing at you.

“I am your wife!” You cry out. “You chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!”

He goes quiet for a few moments, “You have always had my respect, princess… and I know I have erred in the way I’ve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love… so do not expect me to love you back.”

You laugh, dryly. “You called me Alysanne last night… Do you remember that? No… I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.”

He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.

“The dead don’t need lovers. Only the living.” You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.

The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.

He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didn’t know how to show it. He didn’t want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.

You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.

You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and ‘plain’ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.

You cried. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”

Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.

You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.

———

“You’re a fucking fool, brother.”

“You think I don’t know that? Gods.” Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since you’d left.

“We’ll be lucky if the bloody queen doesn’t declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.”

“I am trying here, Sara! I’ve sent my ravens, I’ve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!”

Sara slammed her hands on the table. “Go and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.”

Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.

You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.

Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Cregan’s union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.

Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.

The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead don’t need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.

He loved you. If only it hadn’t taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didn’t have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didn’t consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.

Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.

It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.

“Your Grace!” A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. “Cregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.”

Your mother looked at you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.

You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.

“Cregan.” You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.

“I love you.”

“Cregan…”

“Love her?” You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. “You love my daughter?”

“Your Grace.” Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. “I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”

She walked towards you both. “It is not mine you need to beg for… I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!”

“Mother!”

“You will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.” She commands you. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?”

He stands. “I have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.”

“Why are you here?” Your mother asks him.

“I’ve come to ask the princess to return home.” Your mother scoffs at him.

She looks at you, then back to him. “You are lucky it is not my decision to make.”

She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.

You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” You ask Cregan.

“It took you leaving for me to realize I love you.” He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, starting to sob.

“I know, I know.” He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I loved you, Cregan.” You say, crying. “Since I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, you’re just like the rest.”

Cregan cries into your hair. “I’m so sorry, my princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

You both stand there, holding each other and crying.

“Please come home.” He says. “Let me take you home.”

“Rickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister… I miss you, you my wife.”

You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.

“Okay.”

———

You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.

Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.

Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.

You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.

But you had been keeping a secret from him.

After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.

Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.

The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.

Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.

It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each other’s hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.

Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldn’t make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.

Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t knock, he didn’t know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.

Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.

He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.

You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d seen you naked, although it hadn’t been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasn’t the problem either.

It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.

Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. “Cregan!”

“Sorry.” He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.

“It’s fine.” You said, dropping your arm from your chest. “You just gave me a fright.”

He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.

“What is that?” He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.

You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.

“Perhaps it’s time we talk.”

“You think?” He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be cross with you.”

You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.

He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.

“Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.”

“Truth be told it’s been hard for me to accept I’m truly with a child.” You say, “The reality had not set in until… well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.”

He chokes back a sob. “Feels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.”

“He will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.” You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, you’re already leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you. I love you so much, my wife.” He says in between kisses.

His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.

[glutengoblin]

Guilty As Sin, Sebastian Sallow X Reader (Part 1)

A/N: This one has been sitting in my drafts for waaaaay too long. Originally, I planned to make it just one complete part before posting. Given its length, I decided to split it up.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for all the love on my other pieces of writing, it means the world to me!

(She/her pronouns, house neutral)

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Some 18+ Content

Disclaimer: I am not Taylor Swift and therefore do not own the rights to "Guilty As Sin"

Though the Hogwarts library was typically where MC liked to study most, today she couldn’t capture her focus. At some point when she was working through the stack of parchments she needed to complete by the following Monday, the words had begun to blur indistinguishably together.

Studying alone was a complete drag. Placing her head on the desk, she resigned to taking a short break, in the hope that it might allow her to regain her focus.

She felt as if she had begun to blur into the background noise of the library herself. The gentle chatter of students working together, the occasional shush from Scribner, and the tap of quill pens against the desks nearby only served as a reminder of how quiet her life had been since it had all happened.

The events of her 5th year had hit her like a freight train; she felt as if that was the only appropriate way to describe it at that point. Learning that she had magical abilities (let alone ancient magical abilities), the nearly insurmountable weight of having to protect the wizarding world on her shoulders, and the eventual loss of her mentor was more trauma than any 15-year-old should have to endure. She knew that now. Yet, somehow, one of the worst parts of that trauma was trying to work through what was left of her shattered friendships.

Poppy, Natty, Garreth, and Amit had stuck around thankfully- she wasn’t entirely alone, and that much she was thankful for. Their crew managed to keep her mostly entertained, as there was a never-ending supply of mischief that they managed to get her into. Poppy always managed to find a way to add a new best to the vivarium. Figuring out their care was a constant challenge, and MC was thankful Deek was so willing to help in the endeavor. Natty, on the other hand, constantly dragged MC into the Forbidden Forest, hell-bent on ridding the Earth of the few Ashwinders that still meandered about the land. Garreth was… Garreth. That alone was enough to keep her on her toes.

Ominis and Sebastian… That was another story. Since the events occurred in the catacombs, Ominis and her had spoken occasionally in the undercroft, mainly trying to parse through what was left of Ominis’s shattered emotions, due to the betrayal he felt his best friend had committed. It was an effort to convince Ominis that they shouldn’t send Sebastian to Azkaban the moment he killed his uncle. He felt as if Sebastian had now sealed his fate towards turning into a dark wizard. However, once he calmed down a bit, Ominis seemed to conceptualize Sebastian’s decision as an act of self-defense; still, Ominis felt like their friendship was forever fractured beyond repair, and the boys hadn’t spoken since.

At first, MC had done her best to avoid being around, or even thinking about Sebastian. They had grown remarkably close during their 5th, honestly to the point where MC had found herself beginning to think of Sebastian as more than a friend. But after her fifth year, she needed time to try and process what he had done for herself. She kept her space, and he seemed to fall into their new rhythm. Gone were the days of playfully shoving each other as they walked the Hogsmeade streets, mouths full of pumpkin pasties. Instead, their relationship was reduced to glances across classrooms, followed by the occasional smile from Sebastian - but nothing more.

MC’s friends picked up on the obvious changes in behavior from her and Ominis towards Sebastian, and somewhere along the line, they had decided he was person non-grata. While none of them knew what he did, for Ominis and MC to turn their backs on him, they were forced to assume the worst. Thus, even if MC ever did want to try and close the gap, she felt like couldn’t. Part of the reason she adored her friends was because they had grown so protective of her since her fifth year- but she also resented it, feeling as if golden handcuffs now controlled her every move in regards to Sebastian.

The world blurred back into focus as Poppy plopped down beside her, looking over the papers strewn across the table. Poppy picked one up, examined it, and frowned.

“Seems like you’re a bit overwhelmed at the moment.” Poppy offered a small smile, receiving a laugh from MC in return.

“You could say that. I just need to get all of this done by Monday. And quite frankly, it's a lot.”

Poppy let out a soft melodic laugh. “I hate to break it to you, Y/N, but unfortunately that will be our future for the next year.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh, and flipped a page, examining its contents as she tried to pull the information from her mind. At this point, it was simply beyond her. Thankfully, she generally started her work early, and since it was only Thursday she decided it might be best to take a break. She began shuffling the papers into neater stacks, looking over at Poppy.

“I'm honestly not sure I can focus for much longer. How do you feel about a break? Perhaps a walk to Hogsmeade might be in order?” Poppy flashed a smile and began helping her friend pack up her papers.

“That sounds wonderful.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Although it was only September, there was slight a crispness about the air that spoke of fall in Scotland. Y/N savored her breaths, and the feeling of sunlight dancing on her skin, knowing that soon the area would be reduced to days full of rain. Though she adored the chillier fall days, colored by falling leaves and perfect for drinking tea, she was thankful she got outside while she could.

Poppy trotted alongside her, excitement evidently growing as they reached the Hogsmeade gates. The town was pretty rowdy for a Thursday, but that was likely due to the fact that it was the first-week students were back in Hogwarts. Most of them were likely retrieving supplies that they had forgotten to purchase before returning to school.

Y/N sighed, her thoughts wistfully returning to two years ago, almost to the exact day when Sebastian had been guiding her on that exact quest. While the troll attack had certainly put a damper on things, Y/N had greatly appreciated the time she got to spend with Sebastian. She knew from that point onwards that they would be great friends, or even something more. **She bit her lip at that additional thought, unsure of exactly where it had come from.

Truth be told, that was a lie. She had been eyeing Sebastian at the Great Feast earlier that week, and in their first few classes together. The transition to the seventh year had done something to him. Although she had always considered him attractive, he had grown taller and filled out a bit. While not overly muscular, the new changes certainly made him look older, something she found her thoughts wandering too over the past couple of days.

Y/N snapped out of her state of quiet contemplation when the pair reached Honeyduke’s. They were on the hunt for some treats to add to their stashes. Poppy made a beeline to the jelly beans, while Y/N took some time to peruse the chocolate frogs. Garreth had told her a rumor that apparently there was a way to determine which card each container held. The print supposedly differed slightly on each container, so Y/N leaned in to study the stack, trying to look for any hint of this supposed difference.

Eventually, she stood straight again to passivated the tinge of pain that played at her spine for bending over too long. To her surprise, she looked over the stack to find herself staring into a pair of familiar brown eyes.

“S-Sebastian?” Y/N choked out, caught a bit off guard by their sudden proximity. Although the stack of treats still separated them, this was closer than they had been in over a year. It was then that Y/N realized how tall he had grown - the difference was a bit startling now.

Sebastian stayed quiet for a moment, clearly considering his next words carefully.

“Y/N- I was hoping we’d run into each other at some point this year. I-I… I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” A look of shock crossed her face, before settling into an uncontrolled smile. Maybe this was the way to bridge the gap after this year.

“Alright… About what exactly?” Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but an instant later, Y/N felt an arm being looped through her’s. She looked over to see Poppy, who looked to be a mix of both uncomfortable and pissed. Poppy’s eyes traveled up and down Sebastian, obviously sizing him up.

“How do you do Sallow?” She asked, her voice dripping with more disdain than Y/N had expected to ever hear out of Poppy. Sebastian’s smile flattered for a moment, a glimpse of a frown crossing his lips before he gained control of his emotions again.

“I’m good Sweeting. It’s good to see you after so long.” Poppy offered a disingenuous smile, before turning to Y/N.

“Y/N, we must be going. I heard a rumor that there’s a sale on pet feed at The Brood and Peck. We must go before they run out. Bye Sebastian!”

With that, Poppy practically dragged her friend out on the street, spinning around to face her.

“What was he thinking! Suddenly speaking to you like that- after a whole year! The audacity.” She shook her head, as Y/N studied the ground, trying to decide on the best method to proceed with this conversation.

“It’s alright Poppy. Honestly, it was nice to see him again after so long.” Poppy frowned at that, clearly a bit distraught at that comment coming from Y/N.

“Look, I don’t know why you and Ominis stopped speaking to him, but it must have been bad to cause that big of a rift in your friendship. If it truly hurt you that much… I would just be careful around him. You really don’t need any more emotional turmoil in your life.”

Y/N sighed softly, running a hand through her hair as she thought about Poppy’s point. She had to admit, in a sense she was right.

“I’ll take your comments under advisory Poppy. Now, was there truly a sale at Brood and Peck?” Poppy instantly brightened up at the question, the frown melting from her face.

“Oh yes! You think I could lie about something like that? So, we must head over- we definitely need more fed for the vivarium before they run out.”

With that, the girls departed the front of Honeyduke’s. Y/N glanced back once they had taken a few steps, and swore that she could see Sebastian in the window, looking at them. But, she turned around to follow Poppy, figuring that the mystery of what Sebastian wanted to discuss would best be left to later.

��ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A day later, Y/N was sitting in her dorm, polishing off the last of the stack of homework she had been working on the previous day. Although it felt lame to be doing work on a Friday night, rather than being out with her friends, Y/N enjoyed it. Getting all of her homework done now meant that she could enjoy the rest of her weekend.

Just as she was dotting her last Is and crossing her Ts, an owl flew in through her open window and dropped a letter in front of her. Y/N was a bit surprised, as typically she received mail in the mornings at breakfast. Needless to say, receiving a letter at this time of night was a bit strange.

Y/N opened the envelope, as the owl sat perched on her coat rack. To her surprise, she instantly recognized the handwriting, even a year later. It was Sebastian's.

“Dear Y/N,

I'm writing to you because we were unable to finish our conversation yesterday at Honeydukes.

I've been wanting to speak with you about what has transpired since 5th year, and mainly, I wanted to apologize for my behavior.

Y/N, I am deeply sorry for the way I pulled you into my schemes that year. It was unfair to you, and I shouldn't have taken advantage of your friendship like that. You're a true friend, and I had very few of those. So, I want you to know that I greatly appreciate everything you did for me.

Secondly, I'm assuming that part of the reason why you haven't spoken to me is because of what occurred in the catacombs. All I wanted to say was thank you. Over the past year, without you, Anne, and Ominis in my life, I've realized the error of my ways. That the path was dragging me further down, away from my family and friends - the people who matter most to me. I'm sorry.

I also feel horrible for not being there for you after Professor Fig's death. I know he was a great mentor to you, like a parent, and that it must have hurt very much. I feel horrible for not being able to support you through that time.

I'm hoping you can find it in your heart to forgive me. If that's not possible, I completely understand. If so, I wish you all the best in life. You deserve it.

Sincerely,

Sebastian Sallow”

Y/N sat there, a bit shell-shocked at what she had just read. There was no bit of that Sebastian snark in the letter. He seemed to be genuinely sorry, and trying his best to bridge the gap that formed between them.

Her heart fluttered a bit in her chest as she retrieved a fresh envelope and piece of parchment from her slightly broken desk drawer, and began to hastily write.

“Dear Sebastian,

While I admit it was difficult to come to terms with what happened 5th year, I feel as if I finally can.

Your apology is much appreciated, but I should also apologize to for abandoning you in what must have been one of your darkest times. That is not the actions of a true friend, and I am deeply sorry.

While I certainly think that things are more complicated now, I believe I'm ready to try and be friends again.

Best,

Y/N”

She quickly sealed the envelope with a press of wax, then gave it to the owl along with a stray carrot she kept around for her own. She felt bad that she had kept the owl waiting for so long, but as it flew off into the darkening sky, she knew she had made the right choice. Keeping Sebastian waiting for a reply till the next day seemed unnecessarily cruel.

Given her work for the day was finished, she decided that she might as well get ready for bed. Ominis had asked for her assistance with something tomorrow, and though she was unsure of the task entailed, she wanted to be well rested.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next morning, Ominis approached her, as she sat on a bench reading a book. Although it was already after breakfast and she had gone to bed at a decent hour, Y/N hadn't gotten good rest. Truth be told, she was up most of the night, twisting and turning at the thought of Sebastian's letter.

Being friends again was a thought that excited her. She had missed his snarky comments and excitement about activities like crossed wands. But, rebuilding their friendship would also be difficult. Not only did they have to work through their own messes of emotion that were left with the trauma, but also Y/N had to mind her other friends. Based on Poppy's reaction the other day, she figured it might be best to keep the information that she and Sebastian had reconnected to herself.

Y/N was startled from her train of thought when Ominis approached her, and cleared his throat.

“Good morning, Y/N. I appreciate you meeting me here today.”

Smiling up at Ominis, she shut her book and stood.

“Of course. May I ask what it is you want help with?”

Ominis nodded, and then began working towards what Y/N knew to be the entrance to the undercroft. “I was hoping we could finally get the place neatened up a bit. I feel as if we’ve basically abandoned it since the events of 5th year- occurred. One day, some new Hogwarts students may happen upon it, and I want to ensure that we’re setting our best possible foot forward. Is anyone around?” He asked, as they approached the entrance. Y/N glanced around, determining that the coast was clear, and they descended into the opening.

The undercroft had developed a solid layer of dust since they had last visited. Crates were still stacked haphazardly across the floor. The place had once been such a comfort to Y/N, so welcoming. She, Ominis, and Sebastian used to spend hours of their time there, studying, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s company. Now, it was reduced to simply a storage place.

Y/N glanced over at the triptych, only for a second, as the memories from their escapades 5th year came flooding back. Though she didn’t miss that period of her life, she realized then that she did truly miss how close she and Sebastian had been.

Shaking herself loose, she inquired what Ominis wanted to start cleaning first. Walking forward, she began to rid the space of the crates, replacing them instead with a new set of training dummies. The candles were soon replaced too, with newly conjured unused ones. The two continued working, determined to make the space they once held so dear comfortable again.

Soon enough, the undercroft was sufficiently cleaned to their liking. Y/N had even conjured a few new pieces of furniture, which were scattered around the place. A new couch, with a coffee table and matching chairs, were perhaps the best additions. Y/N and Ominis were certainly thankful for it as they took a break, admiring their work.

“I think it looks great.” Y/N smiled, patting her friend on his hand.

“So do I.” A smile crossed Ominis’s features as Y/N let out a chuckle at his joke.

“I’m sure it does.” She paused for a few seconds, considering her next words carefully. “It doesn’t quite feel right without Sebastian though… Does it?” That earned a curious look from Ominis, who thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“I still have yet to speak to him since everything happened… But I suppose you’re right. It does feel strange to be in here and not hear his quite annoying voice bouncing off the walls.”

Y/N sighed, slightly regretting bringing up the topic, as she knew how heartbroken Ominis had been at Sebastian’s indiscretions. Still, she felt as if they had to discuss it at some point. “Ominis…Have you spoken to Sebastian since it all happened?”

Ominis let out a sigh, his face now turned away from her as he seemed to search his brain for the correct words. “He actually sent me a letter.”

Shock spread over Y/N’s face, as she turned to grab his hand, urging him to continue. “He did…?”

“I- Yes. A couple of days ago. He sent me an owl. Said that he deeply regretted all the pain he had put me through- said he wished that he had been a better friend to me, and listened to my concerns. If I’m being honest… I still haven’t responded. I’m not really sure how to. Part of me wants to forgive him. He was my best friend- but I’m not sure I should… Not after everything.” Y/N could see tears play at the corners of his eyes, as Ominis seemed to contemplate his statements.

“I… that must be difficult. I’m sorry Ominis.” She bit her lip, silently cursing herself for what she was about to say. “Please let me know what you decide to do, I’ll support you either way.”

In some ways, Y/N already knew that was a lie. When it came to Sebastian, she could never find it in herself to be logical. And now, especially since he had apologized to her so sincerely, she could already feel herself slipping back into the grasp of her emotions for him. Truly, she didn’t know what would happen now that Sebastian had sent them both letters… But she hoped for the best.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Later, Y/N returned to her dorm room to find another letter bearing the same crest as yesterday, perched on her desk. She sat down, retrieving her letter opener, hands shaking slightly at the fear of the contents.

“Dear Y/N,

I appreciate your forgiveness more than you could ever imagine, and your apologies, although they are unwarranted.

I’m not quite sure how to approach this “becoming friends again” thing, since I’ve never done it before. So, I suppose I should just start with simple questions: How are classes going for you this semester? Do you still love pumpkin pasties? Are you still afraid of spiders, even fighting off so many of them?

I look forward to your response.

Best,

Sebastian :) “

Y/N smiled to herself at the awkwardness that radiated from his writing. It seemed as if the ever-confident Sebastian Sallow had finally met the match of his charm.

As she sat thinking of a response, her quill twisting in her hand, she considered just how she should approach it if Sebastian asked to meet in person. Ominis still had his own decisions to make regarding forgiving him. Her friends still seemed to feel questionable about him. All factors combined, she felt that it was definitely the right decision to keep the knowledge of their correspondence to herself for a bit until she could figure out how to better approach the situation. She was glad she didn’t admit anything to Ominis.

With that thought through logically, she began working on her letter, eager to send it out before nightfall- Hopefully, that would mean yet another reply from Sebastian that night.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“Y/N. Thanks for meeting me here- you don’t know how much it means to me.” Sebastian took a step forward in the dim light of the undercroft, reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t know how much I’ve been hoping that someday you could forgive me. I know I’m horrible, and I’m the last person that deserves your time… But I… I want you to know that I love you.”

The next thing she felt was the press of his lips against her’s. As if on instinct, her arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down to her height and further into the kiss. Sebastian stalled for a second as she increased the intensity, before eventually catching up by wrapping his arms around her waist, clinging to her as if she was his last shot of life.

Eventually, the kiss broke, and Sebastian studied her eyes. “Y/N… as much as I love you, you need to wake up now.”

Y/N stared at him blankly, her mouth slightly agape. “Sebastian… What do you mean-?”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Next thing Y/N knew, she was sitting stick straight up in her bed, her breath coming in in panic gulps. She surveyed her surroundings, still reeling from the dream that felt more realistic than any dream she had experienced to date. After a few more breaths, she was able to compose herself- that is until she realized that there was more sunlight than usual streaming through her blinds and until she saw the time on her clock.

With ten minutes to make it to potions before she was late, Y/N was sure that she had never managed to get ready so quickly.

When she finally plopped down next to Poppy in her normal seat, the Hufflepuff looked extremely worried. While Y/N could look disheveled from time to time (often a symptom of her many adventures in the highlands), this was a worse state than Poppy had ever seen her in.

Glancing at Sharp first to ensure he was too busy lecturing to notice, Poppy nudged her friend gently, her brown eyes pooled with concern. With a hushed tone, she whispered, “Y/N- Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Y/N looked startled by Poppy speaking to her, but managed to get her bearings back quickly. “I’m fine Poppy- I just had an interesting dream is all. Now let's hush before Sharp yells at us… again.” Poppy nodded in response, but her face was still painted with worry.

But, she relented and tried her best to focus on the complex lesson of yet another potion that she would never have any application for.

Though the lesson lasted for another hour, ‘an hour too long’ Poppy thought, she didn’t forget about her strange interaction with her friend. Not wanting to push her for more information, since that never really seemed to work with Y/N, Poppy decided to discuss the matter with Natty instead.

As students were finally filtering out of the classroom, Poppy made sure to catch up with Natty, gently pulling on her robes to get her attention. “Natty… would you mind having a quick conversation with me? It’s about Y/N… I’m worried.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Despite the fact that Poppy’s behavior made Y/N feel like she was onto her, Y/N decided to spend the rest of her day as normally as possible. As normally as possible, that is, with thoughts of Sebastian crowding her mind.

She was in a daze throughout all of lunch, barely noticing when Garreth had managed to concoct something that turned a 1st year’s head blue. She could hardly focus through the rest of her classes that day. Even crossed wands couldn’t get her to feign her attention. She barely even reacted when Leander Prewett was shot across the room, which on any other day would have been the highlight of her day.

Instead, she waited for the hours to pass, since the thoughts didn’t seem to. His lips, his hands, his smile, his messy brown hair - each minute detail that made him up. She begged for time to speed up, hoping that the sweet relief of sleep might free her from her mental prison.

By the time she finally made it back to her dorm, she hardly even wanted to open the letter that Sebastian had sent that evening. But, given it was now a cherished part of her routine, she felt as if she should.

There was nothing substantial in it, especially compared to where her thoughts of him had been leading. Instead, it was simply a continuation of the conversation they had been having the previous evening- a drabble about the Holyhead Harpies, and various other quidditch teams. One’s they had both followed during their fifth year. Discussions of quidditch had been a sweet relief during the torment of those long months. Despite not having ever played the game herself, Y/N felt connected to it- truth be told Sebastian’s enthusiasm for the sport probably had something to do with her sudden interest during fifth year.

Y/N wrote a quick reply, figuring he was owed at least that, before resigning herself to going to bed. She readied herself for sleep hurriedly, craving the sweet release of a free mind.

Only it wouldn’t come. Instead, her mind was riddled with even more intense thoughts of him. Of his hands on her, touching her places that no one had before. His hands running down her form, savoring her curves. A thumb, gently caressing her cheek. And, perhaps worst of all, his fingers tracing letters on her thigh. With a shiver going down her spine, she realized he was spelling out “mine”.

Eventually, Y/N woke at 3 am, her mind likely deciding that it couldn’t bear any more of the torment her mind had to offer. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, it seemed pointless to try to sleep again. Trying to set herself to something productive, she realized that she did need a few potion ingredients - specifically ones that were harder to procure. Specifically, ones that required a trip to one of the places Hogwarts students were not allowed to go: the Forbidden Forest.

“Well,” she murmured to herself, “might as well go while I’m least likely to be caught.” Once she had made her decision, she set to prepare herself. A thick coat, scarf, and socks per usual, and a couple of extra wiggenwelds for good measure.

Thankfully the common room was deserted as she decided to take the floo flame, opting to land near the entrance to the forbidden forest.

Perhaps youthful ignorance was why she never felt scared of the area - after all, it was significantly more dangerous than staying in the castle. But Y/N was always confident in her ability to defend herself. Never once had she wanted to be considered a fragile flower. Thus, even though the area was eerily quiet, enough so to give her momentary pause, she decided to continue.

She had begun her way through the forest, quickly picking out a couple of the ingredients she needed for her stock. For some reason, she always found foraging calming. Perhaps it was because it was an activity that always seemed to take her thoughts off the tumultuous events during 5th year.

She leaned down, collected some mushrooms with a few swipes of her pocket knife and placed them into her pouch. Yes, of course, she could have used her wand, but sometimes she felt the use of muggle tools was more therapeutic. It made her feel more connected to the plants that she was oh-so-carefully collecting.

She made her way deeper and deeper into the forest until she began to have the off-putting feeling that something or someone was following her. At this point, the heavy tree cover had completely blotted out the lights from Hogwarts. She cast her gaze around and when she failed to detect anyone she continued her trek until she stumbled upon a poacher camp.

Quickly disillusioning herself, she fel into a crouch behind a tree, studying the scene before her. There only looked to be 2 or 3 poachers at the camp, with a puffskin gently whining in a cage off to the left side. Y/N winced when a poacher approached it and kicked it.

“Oi, quit your yapping.” He yelled at the poor beast, who trembled under the gaze of his captor. Y/N decided then that they would be an easy target.

She moved a bit closer, before revealing herself. The first two barely stood a chance against her, as she quickly transfigured one into a barrel and sent him flying towards the other. The third one wasn’t so easy it turned out.

Out of nowhere, five more figures appeared. A couple more poachers… And a couple of Ashwinders. Y/N ducked, letting out a yelp as she barely avoided being sliced in half by a diffindo thrown her way.

Though Y/N had faced much worse than this (she had taken down Ranrok, after all), she knew this battle was going to be difficult. Her lack of sleep and stress over the double life she was once again living were eating at her in strange ways. She felt herself growing weaker, trying her best to conjure up her ancient magic. To her dismay, the power didn’t want to respond. She tried her best, managing to take down the other poachers with a clever combo. But when an incarerous managed to hit her, she went tumbling to the ground, hitting her head hard.

The last thing she saw before everything went black was a flash of messy brown hair, green robes, and warm brown eyes that could only belong to one person.

Sebastian.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[book--brackets]

Simon Snow by Rainbow Rowell (2015-2021)

Simon Snow is the worst chosen one who’s ever been chosen.

That’s what his roommate, Baz, says. And Baz might be evil and a vampire and a complete git, but he’s probably right.

Half the time, Simon can’t even make his wand work, and the other half, he sets something on fire. His mentor’s avoiding him, his girlfriend broke up with him, and there’s a magic-eating monster running around wearing Simon’s face. Baz would be having a field day with all this, if he were here—it’s their last year at the Watford School of Magicks, and Simon’s infuriating nemesis didn’t even bother to show up.

Carry On is a ghost story, a love story, a mystery and a melodrama. It has just as much kissing and talking as you’d expect from a Rainbow Rowell story—but far, far more monsters.

Gentleman Bastard by Scott Lynch (2006-present)

An orphan's life is harsh — and often short — in the island city of Camorr, built on the ruins of a mysterious alien race. But born with a quick wit and a gift for thieving, Locke Lamora has dodged both death and slavery, only to fall into the hands of an eyeless priest known as Chains — a man who is neither blind nor a priest.

A con artist of extraordinary talent, Chains passes his skills on to his carefully selected "family" of orphans — a group known as the Gentlemen Bastards. Under his tutelage, Locke grows to lead the Bastards, delightedly pulling off one outrageous confidence game after another. Soon he is infamous as the Thorn of Camorr, and no wealthy noble is safe from his sting.

Passing themselves off as petty thieves, the brilliant Locke and his tightly knit band of light-fingered brothers have fooled even the criminal underworld's most feared ruler, Capa Barsavi. But there is someone in the shadows more powerful — and more ambitious — than Locke has yet imagined.

Known as the Gray King, he is slowly killing Capa Barsavi's most trusted men — and using Locke as a pawn in his plot to take control of Camorr's underworld. With a bloody coup under way threatening to destroy everyone and everything that holds meaning in his mercenary life, Locke vows to beat the Gray King at his own brutal game — or die trying...

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke (2020)

Piranesi's house is no ordinary building: its rooms are infinite, its corridors endless, its walls are lined with thousands upon thousands of statues, each one different from all the others. Within the labyrinth of halls an ocean is imprisoned; waves thunder up staircases, rooms are flooded in an instant. But Piranesi is not afraid; he understands the tides as he understands the pattern of the labyrinth itself. He lives to explore the house. 

There is one other person in the house--a man called The Other, who visits Piranesi twice a week and asks for help with research into A Great and Secret Knowledge. But as Piranesi explores, evidence emerges of another person, and a terrible truth begins to unravel, revealing a world beyond the one Piranesi has always known.

The Broken Earth Trilogy by N. K. Jemisin (2015-2017)

This is the way the world ends. . .for the last time.

It starts with the great red rift across the heart of the world's sole continent, spewing ash that blots out the sun. It starts with death, with a murdered son and a missing daughter. It starts with betrayal, and long dormant wounds rising up to fester. 

This is the Stillness, a land long familiar with catastrophe, where the power of the earth is wielded as a weapon. And where there is no mercy.

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness (2011)

Conor has the same dream every night, ever since his mother first fell ill, ever since she started the treatments that don't quite seem to be working. But tonight is different. Tonight, when he wakes, there's a visitor at his window. It's ancient, elemental, a force of nature. And it wants the most dangerous thing of all from Conor. It wants the truth.

Patrick Ness takes the final idea of the late, award-winning writer Siobhan Dowd and weaves an extraordinary and heartbreaking tale of mischief, healing and above all, the courage it takes to survive.

The Sandman by Neil Gaiman (1990-2003)

In PRELUDES & NOCTURNES, an occultist attempting to capture Death to bargain for eternal life traps her younger brother Dream instead. After his 70 year imprisonment and eventual escape, Dream, also known as Morpheus, goes on a quest for his lost objects of power. On his arduous journey Morpheus encounters Lucifer, John Constantine, and an all-powerful madman.

The Poppy War by R. F. Kuang (2018-2020)

When Rin aced the Keju—the Empire-wide test to find the most talented youth to learn at the Academies—it was a shock to everyone: to the test officials, who couldn’t believe a war orphan from Rooster Province could pass without cheating; to Rin’s guardians, who believed they’d finally be able to marry her off and further their criminal enterprise; and to Rin herself, who realized she was finally free of the servitude and despair that had made up her daily existence. That she got into Sinegard—the most elite military school in Nikan—was even more surprising.

But surprises aren’t always good.

Because being a dark-skinned peasant girl from the south is not an easy thing at Sinegard. Targeted from the outset by rival classmates for her color, poverty, and gender, Rin discovers she possesses a lethal, unearthly power—an aptitude for the nearly-mythical art of shamanism. Exploring the depths of her gift with the help of a seemingly insane teacher and psychoactive substances, Rin learns that gods long thought dead are very much alive—and that mastering control over those powers could mean more than just surviving school.

For while the Nikara Empire is at peace, the Federation of Mugen still lurks across a narrow sea. The militarily advanced Federation occupied Nikan for decades after the First Poppy War, and only barely lost the continent in the Second. And while most of the people are complacent to go about their lives, a few are aware that a Third Poppy War is just a spark away . . .

Rin’s shamanic powers may be the only way to save her people. But as she finds out more about the god that has chosen her, the vengeful Phoenix, she fears that winning the war may cost her humanity . . . and that it may already be too late.

Villains by V. E. Schwab (2013-present)

Victor and Eli started out as college roommates—brilliant, arrogant, lonely boys who recognized the same sharpness and ambition in each other. In their senior year, a shared research interest in adrenaline, near-death experiences, and seemingly supernatural events reveals an intriguing possibility: that under the right conditions, someone could develop extraordinary abilities. But when their thesis moves from the academic to the experimental, things go horribly wrong.

Ten years later, Victor breaks out of prison, determined to catch up to his old friend (now foe), aided by a young girl whose reserved nature obscures a stunning ability. Meanwhile, Eli is on a mission to eradicate every other super-powered person that he can find—aside from his sidekick, an enigmatic woman with an unbreakable will. Armed with terrible power on both sides, driven by the memory of betrayal and loss, the archnemeses have set a course for revenge—but who will be left alive at the end?

Uprooted by Naomi Novik (2015)

Agnieszka loves her valley home, her quiet village, the forests and the bright shining river. But the corrupted Wood stands on the border, full of malevolent power, and its shadow lies over her life.

Her people rely on the cold, driven wizard known only as the Dragon to keep its powers at bay. But he demands a terrible price for his help: one young woman handed over to serve him for ten years, a fate almost as terrible as falling to the Wood.

The next choosing is fast approaching, and Agnieszka is afraid. She knows—everyone knows—that the Dragon will take Kasia: beautiful, graceful, brave Kasia, all the things Agnieszka isn’t, and her dearest friend in the world. And there is no way to save her.

But Agnieszka fears the wrong things. For when the Dragon comes, it is not Kasia he will choose.

Legacy of Orisha by Tomi Adeyemi (2018-2024)

They killed my mother. They took our magic. They tried to bury us. Now we rise. Zélie Adebola remembers when the soil of Orïsha hummed with magic. Burners ignited flames, Tiders beckoned waves, and Zélie's Reaper mother summoned forth souls. But everything changed the night magic disappeared. Under the orders of a ruthless king, maji were killed, leaving Zélie without a mother and her people without hope. Now Zélie has one chance to bring back magic and strike against the monarchy. With the help of a rogue princess, Zélie must outwit and outrun the crown prince, who is hell-bent on eradicating magic for good. Danger lurks in Orïsha, where snow leoponaires prowl and vengeful spirits wait in the waters. Yet the greatest danger may be Zélie herself as she struggles to control her powers -and her growing feelings for an enemy.

[depresssant]

don't get me wrong, guys, i would DIE for satosugu, but i just had to do this

title : and i love you, darling

synopsis : but for now, satoru would run, and you would have no legs to chase after him.

aristocrat!gojo x writer!reader

〉❈〈

empty.

again.

you placed the quill gently on the stack of paper and leaned your head against the wall to let out a sigh. thunder rumbled and lightning lit up the dark sky as the rain that pattered a familiar tune on your window reminded you of why you felt this why⏤why you were this way.

there was nothing left.

he was once gone.

he was at the far end, but you had no legs.

he was on the edge, but you had no hand to reach out through.

he was too far away, and you were too close.

you expected it. it didn't hurt any less. what could you do except watch from the sidelines as you had always done? you had no mind to speak and no heart to feel. he would always run, and you would chase, but this? this was different. his laugh couldn't pull you out of the void you were slowly falling into if it was the one thing pushing you into it.

damn it, this hurt so damn much.

"[name]? [nameeeeeee]!"

...

"yeah?"

"you're being so quiet!" he whined. "and you're not listening to me!"

"i was."

"no, you weren't! anyways. back to what i was saying. suguru and i..."

he rambled off, and the thunder shook louder in your ears. it was always suguru. suguru this, suguru that⏤why couldn't it ever be [name]?

...

he didn't want it to be.

geto and satoru were made for each other like the sun and the moon and the night and day. you were just... dawn and dusk⏤all by yourself either longing for the sun or leaving it. geto was never seen with ink-stained fingers, geto was never seen messy and unkempt. he was perfect.

and perfect belonged with perfect.

as much as it hurt.

"[name]? look, is something wrong?"

everything was wrong. life was unfair. your heart was just so cruel.

"no. everything is alright. i'm just trying to get into the mood."

a teasing grin painted lips that you so desperately wished to kiss. "mood for what?"

"a short story i'm writing."

"tell me about it!" he demanded with a glimmer in his eyes as he sprawled over your bed. those eyes drew you in like a moth to a flame. those eyes had you drowning in an ocean you wished to never return to. those eyes... could never look at you the way you looked at them.

you grabbed your quill and dipped it in ink before scribbling away at the paper. "this woman is in love with a man she can't have. she has to learn to forgo her love as a disease slowly kills her. and besides! i can't write anything without understanding it, so i'm trying to act all sad and mopey."

satoru chuckled and grabbed one of your little decorations from off the table and began to tinker around with it. his hair was a fluffy mess as pink dusted his cheeks⏤an effect of the alcohol. earlier, he had hurled to his stomach's content, and you were there for him every second along the way. even in his formal outfit for that ball, he still looked so ethereal, like an angel too great for any other being.

that ball⏤the same one in which he had confessed his love to geto.

the scent of flowers evaded your noses, but you took in a deep breath so that your coughing wouldn't storm in to interrupt the serene moment. maybe you were just delusional. yet, the idea of geto not sharing something like this made your greedy heart twist in satisfaction. he would never see satoru from the eyes of yours. no matter how hard he tried, he would never love him like you could, and that was something you'd let yourself keep for once. 

to be there throughout his entire life, joining him through the ups and downs, comforting and supporting him, knowing him better than anyone else, seeing him for than what he thought he was⏤that was what a soulmate did! not a lover!

"you know... he said he loved me back!"

...

but you were't his soulmate. gosh, the ways in which he talked to you made you wishing you were gone. you'd rather die than witness the man who owned your heart like it was a meager coin toss it away for gold.

a chuckle escaped your lips, and you looked down at him. "really?... really."

satoru rose abruptly, and his smile widened as his pace quickened with each word. "i pulled him to the side because i couldn't stand to see him dancing with a woman! we were on the balcony, and the sky was all pretty cloudy, and it was kind of sprinkling, but i didn't care! i HAD to tell him because i just couldn't hold back how i felt! i was even a little angry that he never noticed the way i cared for him⏤the way i loved him! i told him i was there for him all along, but he never noticed me in that way. geto was all grouchy, yet he quite actually lost his composure with every word i spoke, and then he shouted 'i love you' completely out of the blue! can you believe it?"

"i can't."

"and then we paused, and i grabbed his collar and kissed him. i kissed him! and then... i don't know, i just ran."

he spoke about geto like he loved him. he did. he genuinely smiled at the mere thought of him. satoru really was in love with geto suguru. all of a sudden, the sound of knocking interrupted your discussion. three quick knocks followed by a pause and a fourth knock.

your heart sank and satoru's rose.

he stood up excitedly, pulling you up with him by arm.

never hand.

he rushed for the door like he couldn't bare to spend another second alive if it wasn't with geto, and that distinct scent of flowers felt like vines wrapping tightly around your throat, leaving you speechless.

'no! i want you! i want you so dearly i would die if you left me!'

"suguru! What are you doing here?"

"to steal you away?"

'don't go, damn it! please, don't go!'

"would you be okay with that, [name]⏤if i took him?"

'no... no.'

"hah, of course. take your future husband, and don't bring him back."

"[name]! if you stay stuff like that, i never will come back!"

"i... hah! that's a dream i wish to become a reality."

he would come back, and that was the part that hurt most. satoru would lay in arms⏤arms of a coveted life, and you would lay in flowers⏤flowers of a discarded coffin.

but for now, satoru would run, and you would have no legs to chase after him.

[mykneeshurt]

War

Image from Google

Captain Price x F!reader

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, dub/con bordering non/con, Price is not a good person in this fic, explicit smut, themes of coercion, allusions to torture

Please take note of warnings before you proceed, I am not responsible for the media you consume.

Waking up in the damp cell you heard faint shouting of your team mates in the distance. Wincing you tried to sit up but your muscles ached, throbbed with each minuscule movement. The pungent taste of iron seeped into your tongue, suffocating your tastebuds. Running your tongue around your mouth you counted all of your teeth, some more tender than others.

As your eyes adjusted to the cell you were able to make out a small window at the top of the rotting wall. Looked like evening time, the last of the suns rays kissed the brick, a faint hum of the light above you filled the short lived silence.

After you eventually managed to sit up you realised your hands were cuffed, tight at that. The steel cuffs bit into your wrists, staining your skin a crimson red. Your head throbbed from where you were hit with the butt of a gun. The blood had since coagulated and congealed where your scalp had been split open. Bastards.

The distant telling started again, you instantly recognised the voice. Cole. Your captain. He was being tortured, well that’s what you guessed from the noises he was making. Guttural, agonising screams, his voice was hoarse and brittle. Must have been going at it long before you woke up.

Panic began to set in, the last thing you remembered was working your way through an abandoned complex looking for your target.

John Price.

He used to be the captain of a well respected team, 141. That was until one of his own was killed, he flipped, lost who he was, what he was meant to stand for. All he cared about now was war.

He wanted to punish the US army who had hired his team. He wanted to cause as much chaos and destruction that he could. He didn’t care who got in his way anymore, completed blinded by anger and hurt. Nothing is more dangerous than someone who hasn’t got anything to lose. And in this case, he’d already lost everything.

Once you felt strong enough you tried to stand, your knees were weak, your tac pants stuck to your skin from the dried blood. As you hobbled around the cell you tried desperately to find a weakness in the structure. A loose brick, a screw, a bolt, anything you could use to your advantage.

But it seems this was at a loss, the walls looked rotten and decrepit when they were actually solid. Tears stung the backs of your eyes, threatening to fall over your blood stained cheeks. You slid back down the wall and curled into a ball. So this was it? This was how you were going to die.

You led pondering your fate for a while, trying to block out the screams of your teammates. You were surely next.

That’s when your door was unlocked, you shot upright, frantically wiping away the tears from your bloodshot eyes. The end of a cigar illuminated the darkness, the orange embers gave light to a bearded face staring at you from the abyss.

‘Mmm they did tell me you were a pretty one’ he hummed from the doorway. His voice was raspy as he chewed on the cigar. ‘Knew it was a good choice to keep you for myself.’ He stepped into the room, the door squeaking shut behind him.

‘Don’t you fucking touch me’ you spat, huddling yourself into the corner, ‘what the fuck do you want?’ He sighed as he took a drag of the cigar, his eyes never leaving yours. ‘I want to know why you’re rooting round my base. I want to know what you want.’ He crouched down in front of you, gripping your jaw in his hand ‘I want to know who you are.’

Scowling up at him you chewed your lip ‘I think you know why we’re here. I know you’re not stupid.’ Smirking down at you he blew smoke into your face, causing you to cough. ‘Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Maybe I wanna hear what bullshit cover story your bosses want you to tell me. Or maybe … I just wanna have some fun with you.’

Feeling utterly disgusted you drew back and spat at him, saliva landing directly onto his cheek. ‘Feisty. I like that’ he chuckled as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. ‘I was like you once, wanted to save the world. To help people. Till I realised people just fuck you over, they twist the knife at every opportunity.’

‘You can still be like that’ you pleaded, trying to appeal to his human side. If one even existed anymore. ‘Let me go, please.’ Tears began to spill as you begged, pure adrenaline now fuelling your body. ‘Shh shh shh’ he cooed as he wiped away your tears, you began to tremble at his touch, fear took over your mind, body and soul.

He kept his hand on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. He watched as you shifted uncomfortably on the stone floor, hissing at the pain that permeated your joints. ‘Please let me go John’ you sobbed, all your training about interrogation out the window. Your hard exterior crushed by fear, this was everything you weren’t meant to do.

He held you firm ‘you know I can’t do that love. In fact I’d quite like to keep you.’ He trailed his thumb along your lower lip, it quivered at his touch ‘no, please I have a family. Please John.’

‘You say that as if I give a shit. But you sound so pretty when you beg. Think I’d like to hear that some more.’

Stubbing his cigar out on the floor he stood up, pulling you up with him by the scruff of your t-shirt. He pushed you flush against the wall as he slipped his thigh between your legs. The only way you’d survive is if you went along with it. It was your only option.

So you did.

He scanned your face, not really giving a shit if you consented or not. He knew what he wanted and he was going to take it. He pushed his lips against yours, grunting as he did so. His beard was rough on your skin, the taste of iron was replaced with whiskey and cigars. Forcing his tongue into your mouth you reluctantly allowed him to, his kiss was rough, demanding, humiliating.

He pushed he knee against your cunt, pulling an involuntary moan from you. As much as you hated this, hated him, you’d forgotten how good human contact could feel. Your mind was conflicted, your body responded like it should, your body enjoyed this.

But your mind.

Your mind was screaming at you to pull away, to kick him and free yourself, to run away. But it also urged you to enjoy this, to savour his touch, he relish in his kisses.

He broke off the kiss and trailed his lips along your blood and tear stained jaw. Moaning with pure ecstasy at your taste. He nipped at your neck, biting and kissing a trail of destruction along your tender skin.

A sob burst from your chest, a sob of pleasure or confusion you weren’t sure. He felt good, but you didn’t want to admit that to yourself. Feeling lost in the moment, lost in your mind you rolled your hips along his thigh. The pressure caused a rush of pleasure to run through your core.

Smiling against your skin he in did your belt and pulled your tac pants down with force. With one swipe of his finger he groaned at how wet you were, ‘fuck love, knew you wanted it. Fuckin soaking.’ You could only whimper in response, a confused haze descended over you as you desperately tried to detach yourself from this.

Jerking your forward he spun you round and slammed you against the wall, kicking your legs apart. You heard his buckle behind you and within seconds the tip of tip of his cock pushed into you. He threw his head back as your cunt greedily pulled him in, ‘so tight love, fuck’ he growled as he gripped your hips like a vice.

You kept quiet, all bar moaning and whimpering into the damp wall. He built up his pace quickly, fucking you from behind. The sound of skin on skin echoed in the cell, it made bile rise from your stomach. He stretched your cunt open as he thrust into you, you hated to admit to yourself it felt good. It felt so fucking good.

You felt a warm sensation on your pussy as he spat on his cock, desperately trying to add lubrication. ‘Taking me so well’ he praised as he slid his hand round to play with your clit. He was masterful with his touch, knowing the exact pressure and pace to use. It began to push you over the edge.

As he spanked your ass he pulled you backwards, holding your throat as he continued his assault on you. Tears streamed from your eyes as he applied pressure. Your cries were stifled, almost silenced as he nipped your ear.

He felt you tensing up on his cock, he knew you were near, he knew how to manipulate an orgasm from you. Gripping onto his forearm you dig your nails into his skin, he hissed as the skin broke. ‘I can feel you’re close. Do it. Let me feel you love. Do it. Now’ he commanded as he bit into your neck.

And just like that, he pushed you into the void of pleasure. You threw your head back on his broad chest as your orgasm swallowed you whole. You moans ricocheted off the walls in the cell, moans of pleasure mixed with a sob of regret. Regret that you enjoyed it, that you let him touch you.

That he used you.

He kept his pace going, whimpering in your ear ‘gonna cum, fuck … you’re gonna take it aren’t you?’ You stayed silent. He gripped your throat tighter ‘aren’t you?!’ Your chest heaved as you found the words you needed ‘fuck, yes … please.’ They were a strangled cry, a plea to get him to stop.

He pushed you back into the wall, thrusting himself deeper and deeper into you. With one final thrust he came deep within you. He gripped onto your shoulder as you felt him pulsate into your cunt. ‘Goddamn’ he muttered as he tried to catch his breath.

As he pulled out, you fell to you knees, vomiting into the corner of the cell. ‘Hmph, that bad am I love?’ He chuckled darkly as he refastened bis belt. Kneeling down once more he gripped your hair before whispering into your ear ‘you’re mine now.’

[snazzydwarf]

I watched Transformers One last night, and now that I've let it sink in over night I have some WORDS (In a positive way, this movie SLAPPED and I just wanna ramble haha)

I'll just be going over the main 4 however!

So Spoilers under the cut!!!

Okay straight off the bat I wanna preface that I'm not the most knowledgeable about the TF franchise, I'm more of a casual fan. I've seen some of the Bay movies, Bumblebee 2018, and a little of bit of a few of the TV shows. (I'm starting to read the IDW comics, but I'm not far)

So as a casual fan of the franchise this movie was EVERYTHING.

It's just so... refreshing to have a simple "friends to enemies" story line that doesn't try to get complicated. You can tell that the people working on the movie really fucking loved the franchise, and that they took the time to refine the movie.

Megatrons origin story is very believable and well paced, at time's I went "YEAH BEAT HIS ASS D" outloud. OOOOO AND HIS OPTICS CHANGING COLOURS SLOWLY IS AWESOME!!! I can't remember the exact scene (I have horrible memory) but there's this one frame of Orion standing up after being pushed away, and you can see D-16 standing up in the background behind him... and he's just covered in shadows, his optics are a muddy orange. No longer the bright yellow like they were in the beginning and UGG THAT WAS GREAT!!

Chris Hemsworth was actually really well cast as a young Optimus. I don't think he would suit a more war-torn and older Optimus Prime, however as Orion Pax I think he hit the nail on the head. He sounded young, hopeful and full of curiosity that it makes the broken friendship between D-16 and Orion Pax more impactful.

They spent the whole movie being at each other's backs, even when you can tell D was getting sick of his shit, they loved each other. D saying "I won't ever follow another leader" oof- and with his "the only person I can trust is-" being cut off short is GREAT foreshadowing.

At that point in the story I don't even know if he would have said Orion, or himself. Their bond is straining, tensions are rising high and they have hit a split road.

Elita I think, while not being as stand out as the other two, was pretty great in the movie as well. She had a more low-key character Arc, going from a stick in the mud looking for her next promotion, loosing it all because of Orion saving another bot (Jazz!!!!), being mad at him and willing to do anything to get back up the rank, having her whole world fall... and then finding hope within the last bot she would ever thought she would.

She is a figure head, someone who leads and gives commands, yet is bound and confined by rules and her superiors. I don't think she was every truly happy, but seeing Orion try his hardest and never loosing the spark of hope and bullheadedness inside him inspired her.

I believe that scene of her giving back the map to Orion was the first sign or her beginning to trust him, in addition to her not taking back the map later on.

OKAY NOW... BUMBLEBEE... well B-127 BUT MY LITTLE BEE!!

Oh you poor bastard, look at you! You're not mentally well honey, and the war has JUST started!!!! I really liked him in this film and I will defend him to the end.

Was he a little annoying? Yes. BUT it fits and it works. He's been alone for Prime knows how long, he's desperate for friends and companionship that he can't shut up now that finally, finally he has someone else to talk with.

I liked his jokes throughout the film, sure others can find it annoying (god knows the D, Elita and Orion kinda did) but underneath all of that is just a profound sadness.

You can see this when D-12 is standing up to Sentinel, he tells D to stand down, to kneel. Because he's afraid, he's afraid he's gonna watch as one of the first friends he's ever made be killed right in front of him.

He's also not as dense as other's think he is. He may be optimistic, loud and ever the chatter box who lacks the social ques of someone who's been alone for far to long, but he knows when to calm down. He was quiet when they found the bodies of the Primes, he was the one who had the Energon cube to give to Alpha Trion and he did that in a quiet and careful way cuz he knew that this was serious.

He doesn't crack a joke when they see the demise of the Primes and Sentinel's betrayal cuz he's also as shocked as the others. He's NOT an airhead, he's many things in this movie, but he isn't dumb. (also without him, legit nothing the movie was even possible, cuz he was the one who saved the SOS message of Alpha Trion and he was the one with the Energon cube... I'm just saying-)

Anyways, this was a great movie! If you haven't seen it (just spoiled urself mate lol) then please go watch it in the theaters if you are able to. It would be such a shame if this were to "flop" and we never got to see a sequel to this time line.

more thoughts in the tags cuz this has gone on long enough!

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 10

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: smut (oral/m receiving), talks of period intercourse, detailed PTSD flashback, graphic death of character discussed, self-deprecating talk, language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Author's Note: This is a heavy chapter--- Big time PTSD flashback so consider yourself warned! Also, I purposely chose to not use characters in the flashback from the movie Sand Castle. I just didn’t want to kill off anyone’s fave character, so we are going to pretend this flashback was another mission from another deployment right before Sy retired not related to the movie. It was just easier for my conscious to write it that way. 

Part 9

All night long I have nightmares about the war. I wake and try to reset myself like the therapist taught me with deep breathing, water, change of environment, etc.; but nothing is working. I maybe only get about 2 hours of sleep total and I’m exhausted. I still go on my run to try and exhaust myself even more so that maybe tonight I will pass out into a dreamless sleep. I try to fake enthusiasm for whatever Nana is rambling on about in her phone call to me on the way to work but I’m sure she can tell that I’m starting to spiral. Alex can tell that today is one of those days so he asks me if I’m good and when I grunt at him he keeps his distance. God, I’m an ass but I’m obviously not good and I just can’t talk to him about it. Nobody really understands except the boys that I was with when it happened and several of them are dead now. I’m supposed to be their leader and I feel like I should have my shit together. My nightmares continue to worsen throughout the week and I feel like I overcompensate by working harder or exerting myself in more difficult physical pursuits in hopes of tiring my body and my brain out. I forced myself to run four additional miles on Friday even though my leg quickly protested. I focused on pushing through the pain and ended up having to ice my leg after work.

Friday evening finally rolls around, and Emma shows up at the house as planned with a little overnight bag in tow and homemade banana pudding. I’m cooking us some chicken and veggies out back on the grill when she arrives and I feel like I calm a bit just being in her presence. She still looks absolutely adorable as she shows up wearing comfortable clothes-a tank top and soft shorts. I love that she’s feeling relaxed enough with me to just be her most authentic self. After we eat, I fill my belly up with her decadent dessert and I swear I see stars. She’s quite the chef; as if she needed any more of a direct line to my belly or my heart. Assuming she’s still on her period, I ask her if she’s feeling alright and she nods but doesn’t offer more. I suggest we get in bed and watch a movie and she gleefully agreed. We get all cozied up in bed and she chooses a rom-com to put on. Not my first choice, but I’ll do anything to make her smile like that. It’s nice having someone other than myself warm my bed. We fall asleep easily tangled in each other and I’m relieved that I have no nightmares. Maybe Emma is the cure to my nightmares? Or did I really succeed in tiring myself out enough that I slept too hard to dream. Either way, I’m not complaining.

Saturday morning. I wake up at my usual time and smile to myself at finally getting a decent night of sleep. I lay in bed watching my girl dream before I decide to get up and go for a run. If it’s the exercise that helped me sleep last night, I’m not going to miss the opportunity to do it again. I leave a little note on Emma’s nightstand and decide to only run two miles today so I don’t fuck up my leg more than I probably already have. When I get back home, Emma is still a mess of hair and sheets and I can tell that she never missed me. Her hair is halfway across her face, one of her breasts is almost spilling out of her twisted tank top, and the covers are tangled all in her legs which brings a smile to my face. For someone so effortlessly beautiful, she’s kind of a mess when she sleeps and I can’t help but find that to be one of the most endearing things ever. I attempt to take a quick shower and am surprised when ice cold hands wrap around my stomach as my eyes are closed under the spray of the water and I jump like a cat. 

“Damn woman! Your hands are ice cubes.” I say as she laughs uncontrollably.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She says as she hugs me from behind. 

“I woke up and heard the shower running so I figured you wouldn’t mind if I joined you.” 

“Always, join me Sugar. My favorite showers are the ones with you.” I tell her as I turn around to see her. She’s got her beautiful hair tied up in a bun on top of her head and I shift her so that the water runs down her body to warm her up. I spy her adjust the temperature higher and I can’t help myself.

“What is it with women taking showers equivalent to the heat of lava?” She smiles.

“We are colder than you are. Gotta warm up somehow.” She presses a sweet kiss to my lips before turning around and washing her body. I can’t help but stand there like a creep watching her but I’ll never turn down an opportunity to see her wet and soapy.

“I hope you don’t mind that I hijacked your shower.” She smiled sweetly.

“Darlin’, I was done anyway. Now I’m just here for the show.” I arch my eyebrow at her as she spies my obvious erection.

“Let me help you.” She seductively suggests.

“I can help us both.” I offer but she shakes her head.

“Still on my period.” She replies without making eye contact.

“So?”

“We can’t have sex when I’m on my period!” She looks completely shocked.

“Says who? You know, sex actually helps relieves cramps.”  

“But..I might get blood on your…”

“Dick? What’s your point?”

“Isn’t that gross?” 

“Sugar, I told ya, I’m a man. A little blood isn’t going to scare me off. Now if you’re not interested because you don’t feel well or you just don’t want too, I have no problem with that. But, if you’re not interested because you think I’m going to be grossed out or something, I promise I won’t be. You can have me anytime you want, Sweetness. There’s no pressure either way. If you’re uncomfortable with it, I won’t mention it again.”

“Maybe give me some time to come around to the idea of it. I’ve never really considered it as an option.”

“Sure thing, babygirl.”

“You are something else, Bear. You mean it when you said I can have you anytime I want?”

“Mmhmm.” I say as her fingertips trail down my abdomen and she wraps her hand around my throbbing cock.

“Can I taste you?”

“Always, but don’t feel like you have too. I’ll be alright if not.”

“I want too.” She says before pushing me towards the shower bench and taking me in her mouth. In no time at all, I’m coming down her throat after receiving one of the best blowjobs of my life. She has my legs trembling from the stimulation and I can’t help but caress her cheek and kiss her gently when I come back to reality.

“my EmKay.” I whisper as I kiss her tenderly.

“Your EmKay?” She asks. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Funny, I don’t remember being asked to be yours.” She haughtily replies.

“Ya’ ain’t going to make this easy on me, are ya?” Shit, what am I doing. I should have thought this through. She shouldn't want to be with me. The unreal blowjob has me not thinking clearly.

“Now why would I do that?” She retorts with a smile. I palm her cheek so that she’s looking right at me.

“Will you be my woman?” I ask seriously. Fuck it. Why not?

“Only if you’re my man.” 

“Well, I’ve been told that I’m a bear, but I’ll be your man too.” I joke before pressing my lips against Emma’s in a feverish kiss.

As the water gets cold, we finally climb out and get dressed for the day. I decide to take Emma out for breakfast at the diner in town before we go in search of furniture for her guest bedroom. Her parents are arriving next weekend and it was adorable when she shyly asked me if I’d be willing to meet them. I assured her that I’d be happy too and to just let me know when.

We spend a few hours at the furniture store where Emma purchases a matching bedroom set before going to a mattress store and trying out all of the mattresses to determine which would be a good purchase for her guest bedroom. They are able to deliver it same day which is nice so we pick a time for it to arrive that afternoon. We then head to a department store so she can pick out curtains, bed linens, and other odds and ends that I’m told a room requires like lamps and decorations. Being a single man for the majority of my adulthood that was mostly away in the military, I didn’t realize how much work women put into buying all of this shit. Why does she need the guest bath towels to match the hand towel in the bathroom? Or all of the little knick-knack items she bought to go on the dresser? I’m even more confused when she was discussing bed trains? No bed skirts. I’ve slept on friends couches without even a blanket but she’s really rolling out the red carpet for her parents. It’s a bit concerning if they are expecting all of this from their daughter who has lived here for under two months. Maybe they don’t expect it and she’s just trying to show them that she’s a capable adult who plans on settling here. I watch as she spends a small fortune trying to get everything in order for their visit. It’s obvious that she values their opinions. What if they don’t like me? I’m certainly different from the preppy type of guy that they’re used to seeing her with. I’m kind of rough around the edges and although I think I’m pretty smart, I certainly don’t hold advanced degrees. I’m broken from my thoughts when Emma asks my opinion about curtains. It’s sweet that she wants my opinion but I’m a fish out of water when it comes to decorating.

We load up all of the stuff and head back to Emma’s house where I get started hanging curtains as we wait on the furniture and mattress delivery. Emma orders us pizza and we munch on pizza and beer for a while. I’m regretting all of my additional workouts after I finally get the bed put together and the mattress put on it. Emma tried to help but she’s so little I didn’t want her to hurt herself so I ended up just man-handling it myself. She had washed the new bedding and put everything together before we took a look at it and she dove across the top of the bed. Emma patted the space beside her and I laid down next to her on top of the comforter. 

“I’m fucking exhausted and I didn’t even lift the heavy stuff.” She exhaled.

“I didn’t realize it was so much work to put together a bedroom. You sure know what you’re doing though.”

“Thank you. I just pick what I like. I couldn’t have done it all without you though, so thank you, baby. I can’t wait to have them visit and see that I’ve got my shit together here. That I’m not some dumb kid who needs rescuing. I’m able to handle myself.” Ahh, so I was right about that. It’s about proving herself to her parents.

“I think they’ll be impressed, Sugar. I know I am.” I smile at her before yawning.

She kisses my lips before scratching my beard gently. 

“Can we go back to yours, shower and then go to sleep? I’m dead on my feet.” She asks as she stands up and fluffs the new pillows. Why are there like 5 pillows that will just get thrown on the floor? Seems wasteful.

“You still want to come back to mine with me?”

She nods. “I want to be with you and the pups. Since they are at yours, it wouldn’t make sense to get them and come back here. I always sleep really good with you…Unless you’re too tired for a sleep over.” She says sheepishly and I wrap my arms around her.

“Nothing could be better than having my girl in my bed with me.” I tell her because I’m beginning to believe it’s the truth. “Let’s go.” 

We turn out all of the lights and lock up before heading back to mine. Emma’s car is still parked out front from where she left it and it makes me happy that she wants to be here with me. There’s a summer storm approaching and the wind has picked up which has Emma’s hair twirling in the breeze. I pull the patio cushions inside when I let the dogs out to do their business. After a quick shower because we are both too tired to do anything but clean ourselves, we do our nighttime routines before climbing into bed. Emma snuggles next to me with her head on my chest and I’m confident that it’s going to be a good night as we drift off to sleep.

It’s hot, but more than just hot. It’s sweltering. I can feel the sweat rolling down my chest and my back. It’s the type of unbearable heat that has your clothes sticking to your skin the instant you walk out of the mess hall. Then you add your gear, and the added weight from your gear plus your sweat soaked clothes is a certain feeling that I’ll never forget. I smell the smoke of an explosion further in the distance. We have our orders and it’s my job to lead our special forces team in to execute our orders exactly like planned. The problem with that is that most things never go as planned. It would be easy for this to be a cookie cutter mission where we get in and out and go back to base and fuck around for the rest of the afternoon. No, this will require me thinking on my feet at every turn. It’s what I’m trained for, hell, I’m the best which is why I’m the captain. I’ve got seven men with me whose lives rely on me assessing our situation and giving correct orders. They are sons, husbands, fathers, brothers, and friends who have people waiting on them at home. Each order I give is weighted by the knowledge that I’m responsible for them. We’re crouched in different positions behind the old dilapidated building that the informant said our guy would be in. The sun is glaring across our faces but we’re in the best position we could be in for this mission. We’ve been after this specific hostile for months and never been this close to him before. We can hear men inside the building, yelling in Arabic and moving around so we must remain completely silent. If we can hear them, they could hear us. We are ghosts that can’t be seen or heard but must work as a team for this to go smoothly. If one person spots us, it will turn into a close-range gun fight that I can’t imagine we will all win. I inhale deeply and even though there is dust on every inch of myself and the ground, I try to focus my thoughts. 

As I am about to give orders to direct my guys to move on to the next step of our plan, I hear the tell-tale whistle of a bullet zipping through the air. I swivel to the left with my gun and look for the insurgent. I can’t see anyone but the bullet buries itself in the left shoulder of Waites across the way from me. We were fucking set up. I swing my gun back around and that’s when it happens, I hear the bullet and feel it explode into my lower left thigh at the same time blood spews from my friend, Goodwin’s head who had crouched beside me when I stood to look for the shooter. My leg gives out and I instantly drop down into the dirt to where I’m level with Goodwin’s face and it’s obvious, he was killed instantly. His eyes are still opened and he has a massive wound to the head. Anthony. Fuck. His girlfriend is expecting a baby girl in a few months. My leg is burning from the inside out but my adrenaline spike helps me ignore the pain and I grab my gun and instantly start shooting towards the rooftop where I believe the sniper might be. I hear Brown screaming before I realize he’s got Waites against the building and is yelling into the radio for help. I watch as insurgents start coming out of the building we were casing and I start taking them out. Lowell goes down. Setas is either hurt or attempting to provide aid to Lowell. I can’t tell but I never stop shooting. Ramirez is also trying to find the source of the ambush with his own gun. Bullets are flying, many from my own gun as I empty the clip into the only building the sniper could have been on, Browns pleas for backup, along with Waites heavy gurgling breaths fill my ears. I feel a hand on my arm and flinch.

            “Austin! Captain…Captain Syverson. Look at me.” Two hands on either side of my face help me focus in. “St..Stand down. You are safe, the threat has been eliminated. Your superiors have given orders to return to base for further instruction. Do you understand?” 

I blink against the water that’s dripping down my face. Emma?

“My men. The injured men in my unit. Where?”

“They are at base getting medical. Captain, I need you to confirm that you understand me.”

I blink and then nod slowly. “Roger that.” I mutter distractedly. I look around. I’m in the backyard of my house, leaning against the brick exterior in my underwear. I have my pistol tucked in the back of the waistband of my boxers and I’m wearing the boots I leave by the back door. In my hands I’m clutching my old hunting rifle that I keep on the top shelf of my closet. Shit. I’ve done it again. I’ve had a PTSD nightmare, but this is so much worse because Emma is here to witness it. I look over at her. She’s crouching on her knees in front of me wearing nothing but my water-soaked t-shirt and panties while she’s barefoot in the mud. Water is dripping from the ends of her hair from the rain that’s pouring down on us. She looks terrified and concerned. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” My throat aches either from unshed tears or maybe I was yelling earlier.

“Austin, baby, are you back?”

I nod. “Emma, I’m so sorry.” I mutter as tears mix with the rain that drips down my face. This is what I was afraid would happen if I got close to her. If I let her in. I would relax and then my past would quite literally present itself.

“Baby, don’t be. You’re okay, we’re okay.” She tells me as she reaches towards my face that’s now aimed at the ground.

“Aika?” 

“I left her inside. I know you said she could help but I wasn’t able to tell if your rifle was loaded and I didn’t want her startling you and there being an accident.” 

Jesus. She was afraid I’d shoot my own dog, because she’s right, I was nowhere near my right mind. Here we are over six months since my last flashback yet this was the most involved PTSD episode I’ve ever had. Thank fuck I keep my ammunition locked and separate from my guns for situations like this. 

She stands and reaches to help me up but I can’t let her help me stand. My leg feels as though it has been shot just yesterday but that could be a result of me crouching on my knees in freezing rain outside in the middle of the night, not just the psychological pain from my flashback. 

“Come on baby.” She takes the rifle from my hand and I don’t protest. I follow her silently back to the house. The air conditioning on our soaked skin has both of our bodies covered in goose bumps. Aika bounds to me whining and crying and I sit down in a chair from the table and run my hands through her thick fur. I bury my face into her back and focus on breathing. My palm clutches my leg that’s radiating phantom pain from where I got shot. Emma appears next to me with a towel but hesitates. 

“Can I help you clean up a bit?” She gestures with the towel.

I nod and she leans down and starts wiping the mud off of my legs. 

“Sugar, I…”

“Baby, nothing needs to be said. I’m okay, and you are going to be. Would you take a warm shower with me?” I look at her and want to just burst into tears. How is she so kind and understanding after what I just did? After what I could have done?

“Please?” She urges and I nod. I follow her to the master bathroom and watch as she turns the water on. Aika stays close and sits down behind me in the bathroom floor. I have no idea what time it is in the night or early morning or how long she’s been awake dealing with me. Emma pulls out two fresh towels for us and then whips the sodden shirt off of her torso before removing her panties. She looks at me and then slowly and gently eases my soaked boxer briefs down my legs before taking my hand and pulling for me to get in the shower. Once I step in, steam surrounds me and I take a deep breath. I’m exhausted, flashbacks always take the energy out of me and it’s not like I’ve been sleeping great this past week. Emma begins lathering a wash cloth with soap and gently starts cleaning me. I stand there perfectly still and let her do what she wants as I attempt to think of anything that I could say to make this situation better. I’m aching with embarrassment. Once she washes me, she quickly washes herself before turning around and caressing her hand on my cheek. She leans down and picks up my wrists that were laying limp by my sides and wraps them around her waist before putting her own around my neck. My eyes are aimed down focusing on the suds swirling around the shower drain.

“Baby, look at me.” She says with the sincerest and worried look on her face and that’s when my resolve breaks. I bury my face into her neck as the hot tears stream from my eyes. I can’t seem to stop them and I ache when I hear myself let out a sob that sounds so painful and broken even to my own ears. Emma tightens her arms around me and guides me back to the bench that we once used for a much different form of intimacy. Emma curls herself around me and holds me tightly while I fully break down. Once my breath starts to come easier, I carefully pull my head from her shoulder and try to clean my face up.

“Let’s dry off and lay down.” She says as she turns off the water and starts toweling me off. I gently take the towel from her, not wanting to be babied but not wanting to seem ungrateful. Once we dry off, Emma hands me some boxers and she tosses on a dry shirt and panties on before we sit on the bed. It’s silent and I feel like I have to say something.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be thinkin’ but I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I woke you, scared you and I’m sorry I’m so fucked up. I completely understand if this is the last time I see you.” I say quietly and she looks shocked.

“Austin, I’m not going anywhere. This is what relationships are about. Holding each other through the good and bad. I’m not scared and you’re not fucked up. You’re haunted and although I don’t know the details of it, I want to help you through it. Even if you don’t want my help, I’m not leaving you.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I should be better. I survived, Damnit! I shouldn’t have any problems. Goodwin, Lowell, Waites, they are the ones who died. I just got shot in my stupid fucking leg after leading them to their deaths!” I sob.

“You are allowed to have problems. Their deaths are hard on you but you are not responsible for it. I don’t know what happened, but I know it’s not your fault.”

“The informant set us up, we were ambushed. Goodwin, God. Goodwin got shot right in front of me. I watched the life drain from his eyes. He has a little girl that he’s never met. If I had questioned the mission from my superiors or done more digging on the informant, they would all be alive right now. I had to look at their family members at their funerals and I’ll never forget the grief from their loved ones. Goodwin’s pregnant girlfriend, Lowell’s widow, Waites’ mom. I still see them sobbing over their caskets in my mind. I didn’t deserve to live when they didn’t get too.” I finally say out loud. I take deep breaths attempting to calm my body from going into another spiral.

“Bear.” Emma reaches for me.

“It’s been years and I still get like this. Hell, it might be getting worse. I don’t think this is something I’ll just get over. I’m too fucked up, Emma. You deserve someone who doesn’t have these types of demons.” My eyes blink heavily.

“You are not fucked up. I deserve you because you treat me better than I’ve ever been treated before.” My eyes droop and I know it’s a result of the flashback. When I have them, my body goes through the trauma all over again so when the adrenaline finally stops coursing through my body, I basically crash.

“Love, you look exhausted. Can you try to sleep for me?” She asks and gently pushes for me to lay down. My head is resting between her breasts as she lays back on her back. We’ve never laid like this before but it’s comforting.

“I’m right here, I’m not leaving. Aika’s here and so is Mills.” She tells me while caressing my head but my eyes are already closed, too heavy to fight staying open longer. I wrap my arm around her waist and within moments, I’m deeply asleep soothed by the steady rhythm of Emma’s heartbeat as she caresses my scalp.

Part 11

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[adaptacy]

Hi! Since requests are open I wanted to suggest a second part to the fic you wrote about Johnny escaping from prison and tracking you down, obviously sexually frustrated, missing the touch of his partner and being treated with basic human decency. It would be so cool if you could make it angsty too 🥲

hiiii anon! here you go :)

no smut here but rough treatment/handling and angst.

It was gentle, but it was still a push. A push away. He remained in the same spot, though his head recoiled, and he looked down at you, eyes narrowed, irritated with your choice. "Why?" He hissed.

"It's been twelve years. You're a fugitive, Johnny. I- I have a son. We can't be doing this," you stammer, shaking your head as you keep him away with a palm against his chest. "I'm sorry."

"None of that shit matters. C'mon, darlin'. I've missed you," he stressed, pushing back against your hand and nearing your lips again, but you pulled away.

"I'm serious. I'm sorry, maybe I led you on, but... I never intended to- Can't you see? Don't you... see the problem?" You asked, your voice light, trying to remain unaccusatory. You understood him to an extent; you'd been able to make a life for yourself, and he'd been nothing but a spectator to the outside world. You were living a completely different story from his. And your paths had crossed in the past, but they weren't meant to cross again.

Hell, he was supposed to be in jail. Both of you knew that very well. Every day that he was out may be his last day before the cops found him again. You couldn't just cling onto a fading memory like that. Never knowing when your kiss may be the last, never knowing how long he was going to be in your life. That was way too much stress, even if some part of you did still love him.

You'd tried loving others. Hell, you'd married one of them. Had a kid. But it wasn't the same. Nothing ever came close to what you and Johnny had all those years ago. And when the marriage fell through, he conveniently showed up a few months later. A possibility you never could've even dreamed of being real. And you dreamed about him quite often.

With a quiet sigh, you pushed him off of you and tried to step out of the way, but he grabbed the middle of your shirt and tugged you backwards, pushing you against the brick wall of the alley the two of you were in. He was tipsy, but he wasn't drunk enough to accidentally be rough. He was doing it on purpose. "Johnny, I'm not doing this."

"Just fuckin' explain it to me again. Tell me why," he demanded, looming over you, his tone nothing short of menacing.

"I have a family."

"No, you have a kid. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"I have a life- I can't go housing a fugitive," you argued.

"I got my own place. You ain't gotta house shit."

"I hardly even know you, it's been forever," you pushed.

"So? We'll get to know each other again."

"You're dangerous, Johnny!" You snapped, heart picking up it's pace as you shook your head at him. His expression fell, his head retracting a few inches. "You killed people. Broke out of prison. You-" You huffed, finding your voice shaky despite trying your best to remain calm. "You're bad news," you whispered.

There was silence on Johnny's end, his chest rising and falling with a sort of determination as if his anger was slowly bubbling up. "What the hell did you just say to me?"

"Please, just... let me go. I shouldn't have encouraged this, I'm sorry, Johnny. I think it's best if we part-"

"No. What the fuck did you just say to me?" He snarled, and you flinched, your breath caught in your throat. His grip on your shirt tightened, and he pushed his fist harsher into your chest, his breaths coming out in rough bouts. "You didn't give a shit about any of that twelve years ago. That husband of yours fuck you that good, huh? Think you're too good for someone like me now? Think you're gonna be a good little suburban wife who can't be caught with a criminal like me?"

"I didn't say any of that. And, god, no- He's an ex, for one, and-"

"Listen, little miss picket fence, I don't give a shit about your new life. Whether yer believin' you changed, whether you think I'm nothin' more than a fugitive, it-" Johnny huffed, looking down, some unfamiliar emotion crossing over his eyes. "It don't change what we had. You wanna go denyin' that?"

"Johnny, that was twelve years ago. You-"

"It don't matter. None of it fuckin' matters. Ain't you able to see that? You wouldn't have given me the time of day if you didn't miss me."

"Of course I missed you. But you're insane if you think that just... randomly showing up as a goddamn jailbird escapee is going to suddenly have me back on my knees, you need to have a reality check. Please understand," you begged, scoffing at his inability to see clearly.

"That's all I am to you now, huh?"

"What?"

"You were the only thing I thought about in those walls. The only thing encouragin' me to break out. The only thing keepin' me fightin' back against the rat bastards who went around pickin' fights. You think you're just gonna say no?" He scoffed, looking back up as he searched your eyes for something. What exactly, you weren't sure. "Ain't you scared, pumpkin? You think yer safe from me?"

You frowned, lifting a hand and slapping him square across the face, staring him dead in the eyes. His head turned at the impact, and he stared down the alley for a few moments. "I know I am. Get the fuck off of me, Sawyer."

"The hell'd you just call me?" Johnny finally returned his sights to you, and he released your shirt just to slide his hand up to your throat, tightening his fingers around it and forcing your head back.

"Get. Off," you repeated, stern despite how incredibly intimidated you were. He could very well snap your neck like it was nothing, and he had no reason not to; he was already on the run, it wasn't like crimes were something he was scared of. Especially not murder.

"You think you can just talk to me however the hell you want? You think I won't kill you?" He growled, and you grabbed at his arm as he squeezed even more, causing genuine difficulty breathing. As you strained for an inhale, he leaned down, his mouth right next to your ear, his every huff making you flinch. "I was made for you. You're s'posed to be mine. Ain't that what you said? Promised me you'd be mine forever. I'm just comin' to claim my property."

"I'm not- an object, Johnny," you choked, but he hardly seemed convinced. "I said that because I was young, and dumb. And I was in love," you strained, squeezing at his arm. "I don't love you anymore, Johnny."

He stared for a moment, and then surprisingly, released you. You coughed, rubbing your throat where he'd grabbed you, breathing heavily. You never realized you could take breathing for granted, but you certainly had.

"You left. You killed. And clearly, you haven't changed," you muttered, taking in a deep breath as you panted. "I thought you didn't belong in prison. But I read about what you did. I... I guess I thought you'd changed. Thought you'd learned your lesson. But you're still as aggressive as ever."

"Sweetpea, I-"

"Don't. You just tried to kill me. Don't- Just... I'm going to go. I don't want to see you again. Especially not around my kid," you demanded, and his mouth hung slightly open, some apologetic rage behind his eyes.

But he didn't say anything else. Just... let you walk away.

Truth be told, he would've killed you. You knew that. He had the means to, had the reasons to.

Why he didn't, you had no clue.

[daydreamerwonderkid]

I was a part of an PMMM rp group ages ago and since I was last to join I was saddled with the role of Kyubey.

The original goal of the group was to try and create an alternative ending for a new cast of original characters. I believe the plan was to find a way to rp everyone into a happy ending if possible, but no one was against it turning out dark like the source material.

I don't remember a lot of the rules except for one because I purposely exploited it as much as humanly possuble. The rule was that if you had conversations with other players outside the main group chat you had to inform the GM of it and provide screenshot evidence of your conservations.

These private messages were meant to be used as filler rp where players could further develop their characters and relationships outside the main story. I want to clarify that I had full permission from the GM to use this option with less restrictions as they agreed it would be in character for Kyubey to seek out more private conversations versus participating more openly in the group chat.

Long story short I fully dived into my role as Kyubey and systematically went after everyone in private messages to turn them against each other. Again this was forever ago so I'm a bit foggy on all the details but I managed to convince at least 2 members to kill each other, got 1 to turn into a witch by manipulating their character into thinking another player's character was cheating on them with someone else from the group, and then managed to trick another player into doing a contract with some clever word play on my part that the GM later backed me up on when that player denied agreeing to it.

The group didn't last long mostly due to scheduling issues but I still hold some fond memories of it. I haven't been able to pull something like this since then.

But I'll never forget how it felt to watch all my machinations fall into place and the demented giggle I let out when that player finally realized I had tricked them into a contract.

I am ... good for you? XD

Tbh I have no idea how text based rp works, but your GM must have had really trusted you not to abuse the game and/or derail the story by making you fucking Kyubey a;dljkfa;lgjal;dajga

Personally, I've only ever played villain characters when I've been the GM/DM myself. So in that aspect, I can absolutely relate to that giddy feeling that comes with rping a villain and pulling one on the heroes.

But HOLY FUCK, man O_O

[catattack08]

Decided to do a piece for my tma-sona esc lore..

that im also gonna dump abt under the thread bc i feel like it

This is very summarize-y and it’s kinda shitty but I thought I might as well just dump abt it just bc

obvi, aligned with the dark, clearly. My sona is very intertwined with @cupsy-daisy 's magnus sona also. Though lore wise, my sona had moved to the UK with cup living in the same flat. My sona had a degree in library science, and before the institute, was looking for local library jobs. There, during job searching, my sona had found a Leitner themed around the dark. Took it home and read it, the contents of the book almost rendering my sona blind and almost made them become an avatar, but the book was knocked away before that could happen. Creating a more intense fear of the dark than before, but kept the book hidden away regardless. Then, being recommended for a job at the institute as a library assistant or library technician. Getting the job (a few months before s1 happens) and bonding with martin in the library. She doesnt interact with many besides martin, and bringing jon along with others some books. Since htheer work was near the upper institute, she didnt rlly have much trouble regarding the worm incident. Though when jon was going crazy in s2 from paranoia she really still wanted to believe the best in him. Talking with martin a lot about, maybe hes just stressed. Even though he's been literally stalking everyone. Come the end of s2 where jon was about to destroy the table, he had asked everyone to go home early. My sona was in the library so she didnt get the memo as she was in her own little area. Trying to see where everyone was she found the entrance jon used for the tunnels and followed him, finding him when he broke the table. The exchange was quick in the confusion but it ultimately led to jon and my sona running through the tunnels holding on to each other trying to get away from the not!them. All the while of jon feeling shitty and guilty, she was just trying to reassure him even with how scared she was, especially being in such a dark place, but knew he was scared too. She decided to try splitting up to create a distraction for the not!them, running till eventually entering a michael door. Having a brief interaction with helen in there, but making it out and meeting up with martin and tim come s3, she doesnt think jon killed somene, especially seeing him so vulnerable in the tunnels and talks to martin a lot about it since he shares the same sentiment. When it's revealed he didn't, she's relieved and starts bringing books to georgie's place to help him research, but her, along with cup, had brought things over at the wrong time, bc then jon got kidnapped, and so did cup when they intended to have a word with him as they were a witness. So my sona's best friend and jon are kidnapped, kind of a big mess. If you couldn't tell, she bonds with martin a lot. Long story short, they both get outta there via helen obvi, things are nice and good. I take some time off to help cup with recovering from being kidnapped.

Between s3 and 4 not much else happens, really just trying to stay connected with Martin, and my friend’s sona but the lonely kinda gets them, and trying to stay connected with jon but he’s all over the place. A lot of after s3, my sona is been getting along with Helen a lot, bonding and falling for her false kindness and niceties. Starting to spend more time in the tunnels with her. After a while, Jon approaches my sona in with the intention of learning more about her experiences with the dark. Eventually giving him a statement based on the leitner book, her explaining how she’d never want to anyone to ever have to read the book ever. But in the meantime that Peter is getting Martin prepared for everything, and the main big bang of s4 is about to happen, my sona has been talking with Helen the most, and with the method to sever one’s self from the institute, I thought of her starting to slowly convince me to sever myself by reading that leitner again. Everyone is gone or hates each other, maybe it’d be better off to be free from that place. The last time my sona and Jon talk she’s heading to the tunnels with bag in hand intending to read it there, but she gives him one last goodbye

And she isn’t seen until s5 in the area with the dark. Fully pitch black, Martin and Jon going through, cant see a thing, but they have the feeling of being watched and now by Jon. Either of them feel a hand maybe touch their backs, or a hand touch their hair. Martin reminds Jon of his lighter to see what’s in the dark, and it shows her, no eyes in the sockets, just fully dark and this almost silhouette of what she was. They have a very neutral talk, some slight convincing from her to get them to stay, to sever their connection and make them blind too, but in the end letting them go on their merry way through the rest of the eye-pocolypse

There’s obvi more details than just that but I wanted to just get it all together best I could lol

Props to anyone who actually reads all of this junk

[nutcasewithaknife]

Let's talk about Li Xiangyi and Control!

Thank you to @istgidek1234 for putting up with three weeks of screaming and also more-or-less co-writing this with me <3.

Short disclaimer before diving into it: This is going to be part 1 of a 3 part series, one for each of liansanjiao. It’s hard to think about control and MLC and not realise that all three are fighting to take control of their own lives. They all do it differently for different reasons but it is a crucial, defining feature for each of them. It inevitably makes their relationship with each other a delightful heartbreaking combination of understanding but also never really seeing each other. 

For now, let’s begin with our protagonist.

Li Xiangyi, wunderkind beyond compare who crashes and burns and then walks away. Li Lianhua, a man determined to bury his past self and become a whole different person, a ghost haunting its own end. And yet! Neither Li Xiangyi nor Li Lianhua can exist without trying to stay in control in any given situation. This is me trying to slot together the pieces of how and why he’s like that.

[WARNING: long, long post ahead].

As Li Xiangyi, the world makes him its Hero. He goes with it, but he has his own standards of what he as a Hero must do. He creates and leads a whole new sect, befitting this image. But it's not just a generic Really Good sect, is it? It has purpose. The Sigu Sect is built to ensure the coexistence of the Empire and the Jianghu, to ensure justice in the latter without sacrificing its independence. Li Xiangyi does something far more nuanced than the Hero Figure ever needs to do - he looks at a system that needs fixing and decides he should be the one to do it. He's taking control of the story people fit him into by making it fit his own sense of righteousness, goodness and honour.

He may be doing that through a Sect, but he makes himself the keystone. Remove him, and it all falls apart. He makes decisions on the fly without consulting the people involved (not telling Shan Gudao aka his co-sect leader and founder about the treaty) because he is sure that he knows what's best. Imagine the kind of constant control he must have needed to maintain over any situation to be able to make such an impact on the politics of this world. But he doesn't stop being the one in charge. And most people just let him, see it as his natural place, so it's all good! He is stretched thin across a dozen different responsibilities, but they can never get the better of him, because he is Li Xiangyi.

It looks like arrogance, and to an extent it is. But it’s also more. Is it his reluctance to trust the abilities of anyone else more than he trusts himself? Is it habit? He grew up being pitted against his brother as proof of his Master's worth, the love he has known has always been tangled up with this burden of expectation, which he never fell short of. He is always the best. He is adored for it. A teenager who has never known defeat before, exalted by the world! Of course he went along with it, moulded his sense of self and worth around it. He has spent far too long defining his worth by living up to the expectations of those who love him. But that sort of adoration is always fickle, always conditional. 

The thing about never losing is that you don't stop to consider what happens when you do. When the burden grows too much to stay under his control, it's because he has lost for the first time. Qiao Wanmian leaving hits him hard, I think, because he was doing so much! He was meeting every expectation of who he should be, was it still not enough to have her love? There is anger and doubt. He alone decides on the treaty with Di Feisheng. And then Shan Gudao is killed, Li Xiangyi is betrayed, and it's the last straw. Losing for the first time in such a terrible way makes him furious, at himself and at those who he thinks betrayed his trust. He doubles down. He tries to seize back the control he's lost - all by himself as always - because it's the only way he sees to fix anything. He does it when dealing with betrayal and grief and rage the likes of which he's never known. The only way to fix the grief unraveling him is to get his brother’s remains back at any cost. And it ends in a massacre of thousands.

Li Xiangyi thinks that his blunder was the arrogance in believing he could fix the world in any way. His answer is to walk away. He has caused enough harm to the world as Li Xiangyi, so he will no longer be him. He no longer can, not with this poison in his body and with how badly he's let everyone down. The poison limits his abilities and makes him terminally ill. He can no longer rely on or control his own body the way he always has been used to. Those first few years must have been awful, while he was still learning how to live in this new state. It’s no wonder he finds some peace in shaping his immediate environment, in building a new life. He cooks, gardens, has a home he builds and looks after, has Huli Jing. He also gives himself a new direction, a new purpose - to put his past to rest, to repent in the only way he can. 

Knowing is also a way of being in control. If Li Xiangyi's tool to keep control was the power and authority of the hero figure, Li Lianhua's are his lies (the biggest of which is his innocuous presence, his uselessness beyond being a physician). Li Lianhua loves to stick his nose into things and find out the truth, and he is good at it. These lies are his new weapon, stronger than the sword up his sleeve now - he uses them to stay in control of the situation. To decide who is allowed to know what. He also puts them as a shield between everyone who tries to come close, because he himself is one of the things that nobody is allowed to know.

It is while becoming Li Lianhua that the change happens - he goes from meeting every expectation to dodging even the potential of one more doggedly than ever. He must shape the rest of his life alone and make it his own and nobody else's. He will be Li Lianhua, no longer burdened by the world's expectations. Just his own. All that he expects from himself is deeply personal - find Shan Gudao's body, bury him with their shifu, and die. It is only right that he has nobody at his side - he let down every single person who had once loved him. Nobody else should bear this burden with him, because it is his and his alone.

And then come along Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng. One doesn't give a flying fuck about the lies and the other knows him well enough to see right through most of them. Fang Duobing is at first annoyingly naive, overzealous to do good (like SOMEONE used to be), then endearing, and then dangerously forgiving and caring. He is the most lethal attack to Li Lianhua's self-imposed isolation because he has no expectations, and isn't the slightest bit intimidated by Li Lianhua or Li Xiangyi (re: @potahun’s meta on lxy being a burden because he is just too good). He's the first who talks about Li Xiangyi as a person, not a legend. There's no getting rid of him, but Li Lianhua will be Li Lianhua. He lies and hides and dodges and lies again, well aware that he's hurting him each time. But he will keep doing so, because love always comes with expectations and he refuses to live up to those.

And then, enter Di Feisheng! The only one he considered trusting as an equal before it fell apart. Also the bearer of the revelation that the past is much more convoluted that Li Xiangyi knows. The past, which was the one thing Li Lianhua has seen as a permanent fixture, a mark of his failure, just got worse. He was manipulated. His Shixiong orchestrated all of this expressly for his downfall. Instead of alleviating Li Xiangyi's guilt, it makes it worse - had he been a better leader and known better, he may have avoided falling for it. Had he not been the person he was, maybe his brother wouldn't have become the man he is today either. 

And as before, the more things spiral out of control, the more Li Xiangyi doubles down. He knows better than to try and fix the world this time, he has long decided that the thing he can control is his own life, away from the legends; he needs to know what the truth is, so he can decide what his end should be. But the more he learns, the worse it gets, because his entire life - the people he was closest to, his own identity - is being reshaped. The entire goddamn story is his attempt to have some measure of control of his past, present and future - of his story - while everyone and everything is flying right in the face of it. He distances himself from the legend of Li Xiangyi so he can live as himself. He copes with the past by trying to cut it off and by taking charge of his future, but guess what! The past is a living, growing thing of the present, long out of his control - he knew nothing of Shan Gudao’s hatred. Nothing of his heritage. Nothing about the brother he'd lost. This rogue past is also twisting his present and future out of his control.

Towards the last few episodes, we dare to think he's starting to learn how to share the burden. That he might be letting Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng be a part of this, he is trusting them and himself not be alone all over again. And then! The fucking Styx flower!!!! This excellent meta by @angryteapott really explains it the best. Once again he makes a decision alone, in the name of ensuring that everyone that matters to him stays safe. He knows Fang Duobing will fight it and Di Feisheng will probably commit regicide if he gets wind of it. He doesn't even consider working out an alternative, and makes that decision for everyone's good, because he knows best and the others are better off not knowing.

He will die. So what? Di Feisheng will be forced to move on and find a purpose beyond Li Xiangyi. Fang Duobing will be heartbroken, but he is meant for better things than a life of following Li Lianhua around. He himself can no longer live a carefree life as Li Lianhua, because the world has hijacked his story once more and he barely knows what the truth behind the stories is anymore. He had a brother he lost. He is the lost prince. It was just one story after another. Is it really any surprise that being in charge becomes more necessary when all of his past has been a lie?  As @istgidek1234 put it, him throwing himself into every issue that comes his way is a way of finding his agency and taking control of his narrative. He is lost, and he doubles down. Li Xiangyi, Li Lianhua need to die and he is too tired to build another life. And so he leaves, to choose and control at least his end.

But, well. As any of the people he left behind would tell you, he doesn’t know jack shit. Li Xiangyi's mistake 10 years ago wasn't trying to fix something unfixable. It was trying to fix it all by himself. In his attempt to tie up the strings of the past, Li Lianhua makes the same awful mistake. He presumes, he keeps everyone out of the loop, he decides for everyone who loves him because he knows better. He is so arrogantly presumptuous! But isn’t it more? It’s also the fear that his very presence will hurt them again. That any attachment will come with strings that will make him into someone he is not once again. He must remain unattainable. He's so caught up in controlling his story that he tries to untangle it from everyone else's. But he can't. Leaving means they will simply carry him forever in their grief. Over and over, the story tells us that for those who really love him, losing him is the greatest pain. Over and over, Li Lianhua decides that he knows better, they will be better off without him. 

There is, of course, the more meta reading of the ending (check out @redemption-revenge's amazing post about it!). The one where Li Xiangyi is simply closing the chapter titled Li Lianhua to begin another, away from the gaze of the world and beyond the shape of this story. Maybe that’s a version where he lets himself be found by Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng. Where escaping our scrutiny allows him to be vulnerable enough to accept their companionship without too much of the lies and presumption, where he can find and make peace with himself and live. 

[the-apocrypha]

Hello!

I've had a brain worm about your cottagecore verse stuck in my head for a month now, so I'm finally sharing it.

The mob that stormed Hob's cottage in Eskham didn't come out of nowhere. Someone has been spreading rumours about a dangerous creature in the hedgewitch's cabin for some time. Someone who doesn't particularly like their older brother. Desire knew that they would have to stoke the tension in the village carefully, so that when the villagers' fear got the better of them, Dream would not be there to save Hob. They knew very well that even armed with torches and iron, a mob of peasants wouldn't stand a chance against a fae prince. That didn't matter though - Desire didn't need the mortals to hurt their brother directly; he just needed to be taught a lesson about taking human lovers. Getting banished from the realm of the fae just wasn't enough. 

What Desire didn't expect was to be on the recieving end of a similar fate as their brother - turns out that Mother Night does not approve of her children taking human consorts, even if that child might excel at cruel games and bargains. Long story short, when Desire falls in love with a travelling sorceress named Unity, they are yeeted out from their mother's court much like Dream was.

I think it would be funny if Desire ended up getting tossed into Hob's garden while Dream is away doing fae things™️ in the forest. At first Hob panics (understandably, they aren't really expecting visitors in the middle of nowhere), but once he recognises that the being currently squishing his strawberries is another fae, he brings them inside (does he hope that seeing another of his kind might make Dream happy? Maybe. Think of it as enrichment for your lover). Needless to say, Dream isn't exactly thrilled to see his sibling, especially when they let slip that they're rather surprised to find them both alive and (relatively) well. Oopsie, your sibling might have had something to do with your recent troubles, Dream (who would have thought).

I'm hoping for some sort of reconciliation and some reflection from Desire? Maybe being shunned by their kind might help them reconnect. After all, Desire's gonna need all the help they can get if they are to find their beloved out there...

OMG I love this so much, thank you for sharing this glorious brain worm! I love the idea that Desire is out in the mortal realm doing market research for plotting his brother’s downfall and in the process meets Unity and—I’m imagining it wasn’t quite so Love At First Sight, because sorceress!Unity definitely knows better than to tangle with the fae and wants nothing to do with any of Desire’s shit. (Desire’s always liked a challenge.) But eventually, somehow, despite both of their better judgements, the love does happen. 

Also love the idea of Desire getting dumped into the (Dream’s! Special!) strawberry patch—they’re probably not looking too hot, ala Dream when he was first exiled. Hob absolutely takes them into the house as soon as he sees the ears. He’s learned to be wary of his fellow mortals but he’s still a sucker for fae, especially ones who bear a familial resemblance to his lover, and especially ones who are all alone 😩 and hurt 😩. (Dream obviously is unimpressed with all of this, but Hob is at this point well-practiced in tuning out Dream’s Are You Trying To Get Yourself Killed, I Don’t Care That You Survived Thirty-Three Years Without Me, You Won’t Be Surviving The Next Five Minutes If You Don’t Start Apologizing, You Useless Fragile Mortal Tirade).

Also! The idea of Dream and Desire hissing faeish insults at each other over the dinner table while Hob is desperately trying to steer the conversation back to English—hysterical. Dream getting possessive of Hob when Desire looks at him a few seconds too long, and Desire being like “I absolutely do not want your grubby little bear-man, Dream, calm your tits. Unlike you, I have standards.”—excellent. I love it all. 

(Though let’s be real, in this particular AU the moment Dream finds out Desire was the reason that Hob got shishkebabed, this goes from a family feud to attempted murder real quick. IDK if Dream would get over that for… at least a few decades. Desire would be turfed out of the house so fast their head would spin. Their only saving grace might be if Hob suggests that the faster they find Unity, the faster Desire will be out of their hair.) 

I’ll be honest, the possibilities for fae!Dream + siblings are limitless and wonderful, and I’m constantly sad that the cottagecore ‘verse ended up constructed in a way that means—without some very exceptional circumstances, as you have crafted here—we won’t ever really see Dream interacting with his family ever again. At least, not in the official version. Please feel free to tell me all about the elaborate ways in which fae!Dream and Desire get forced into a metaphorical Get Along Shirt, or Death dropping by with little fae care packages with all the stuff Dream misses from his home, or Delirium going on forest walks with Dream and asking him ten million questions about all the strange mortal animals and plants. Dream deserves better relationships with his siblings than what I dealt him in this ‘verse. <3

[liloinkoink]

Martyn lays at the side of his campfire in which his god sits melting the surrounding snow. It’s unusually peaceful in the clearing where he chose to make camp, however he should be grateful that for once no one is trying to take his stuff. As fresh snow starts to fall his god brightens to ease the chill in the air and Martyn hears the sound of a twig snapping. As he whips his head around his god flashes illuminating the whole glade and at the edge he sees a person with dog ears, long brown hair, and sunglasses wearing a white top, red cloak and skirt, with brown boots and gloves holding a staff with a potted plant hanging off of the end. The person looks startled as the fire behind Martyn flares up, “Hello there,” Martyn greets him, “Can I help you?”

“Uh… I just need to make a camp for the night. Do you mind if I share the clearing with you?” The stranger asks him.

“I guess but first what’s your name and why are you carrying around a potted plant?”

“Oh right I’m Ren I used to own an enchanting shop,” he introduces himself, “and the plant is an incredibly long story, why do you have fire that’s acting so weird?”

At this Martyn sees his god make an irritated flicker and settle back down into the bonfire. As his god does this Martyn sits back down before holding out his hands to the fire. “That’s also a long story,” he tells Ren, “I’m Martyn by the way.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, can I join you by the fire?”

“Sure,” Martyn says while beckoning him over to sit, “so do you want to hear the incredibly long story about the fire or the short version?”

“I’ll go with the short version.”

“Basically me and my old adventuring group went to check out a bounty for some monsters that had taken up residence in the ruins of Dogwarts but a creepy cult called the watchers took us prisoner, two of my friends escaped together but my other friend was killed…” Martyn explains.

“Wow, that sucks man.”

“Yeah, anyways I got stuck in a basement where I found a basin in front of a statue of the god of Dogwarts and in the basin there was a flame. At the time I assumed that it was a sacred flame and I was desperate so I made paladin’s oath. I managed to escape but it turned out that said flame is the god of Dogwarts. That’s why I have this flame.”

“Oh…” Ren turns to the flame, “Sorry that I insulted you.”

To this Martyn’s god glows warmly, “That’s good.” Martyn tells Ren.

“Oh nice, uhm can I ask a favor?” Ren turns to the god, “It’ll make sense once I explain the plant but can I melt some snow in this?” He holds up a watering can.

His god seems to consider it for a minute before continuing to glow golden, “I think that’s a yes.”

“Thanks,” he says while stationing the can filled with snow in the fire, “Okay so you want an explanation of the plant right?” He takes the plant out of the pot and places it into the snow where it grows roots into the ground.

“Yeah,” Martyn says, “I can already tell that it’s not a normal plant.”

“Okay so picture this you know how I said that I used to own an enchanting shop?”

“Yep.”

“Some bandits kidnapped me from it and forced me to enchant their gear. However I sabotaged it so that they couldn’t hurt innocent people but when they figured it out I had weapons on me and was able to use them therefore they were able to attack me. I ran into an abandoned building where there was a plant with a statue behind it. Similarly to you I prayed and became a paladin.”

“Huh, what are the chances that two paladins to forgotten gods meet each other?” Martyn asks.

“Not sure,” Ren says, “Probably pretty small. Oh, it looks like the water’s melted.”

Ren starts to reach forward for it but Martyn stops him, “I’m not sure about you but I can’t be burned, let me grab it.” Martyn reaches in and feels the warmth of the fire on his arms, he grabs the can and hands it to Ren.

“Thanks,” he says before pouring the water out onto his god, “What’s got you traveling around?”

“I’m looking for my friends. What about you?”

“I’m trying to get back to my hometown but I have barely any idea about where I was when I escaped.”

“Hm… well at the moment I’m headed to a nearby town. You can travel with us until we arrive if you want.”

“Thanks! That sounds good to me.”

-

It’s not that Ren was jealous of someone being able to talk to Martyn but something about Ren as in the paladin Ren put him on edge. For starters they were way too similar, both dog people with brown hair and enchanting powers. It’s just uncanny. Ren makes sure to be extra vigilant that night as he watches the clearing; he wishes that there was a way for him to actually talk to someone, anyone, especially the other Ren or his god. Ren sits in the fire and watches the paladins sleep, Martyn right up at his side and the other a little bit away sleeping in a bed of flowers that the other god grew. It’s possible that Ren could use his powers to try and reach out to the other god but it’s not likely so he rules that out.

-

As soon as Martyn had put down his roots he had started thinking about the man across from him. The man who shares his name, not too confusing, Martyn is a perfectly normal name but he remembers when he still had a human form. When he had a human form he had worn a headband and had medium blond hair, he had also worn green similar to the other Martyn. For some reason someone who seems pretty much the same as him exists and it’s suspicious. As Martyn is considering different possibilities he starts to inch closer to the fire, he’s not sure why but in a way he feels drawn to it. As Martyn reaches the edge the fire shrinks away, not surprising as he would get set on fire. It would be nice if they could communicate but neither of them have a way to talk.

-

It’s around noon when they reach the town and part ways Martyn and his god head south logically towards the Southlands, meanwhile Ren and his god shop for supplies before heading back into the forest. That was one weird experience.

Note: Have a fic of your au with an unidentified author.

OH THIS IS FUN…. i like both the gods commenting on how strange it is the opposite paladin looks like them and wanting to communicate with the other god but being unable to. this is really neat, thank you for showing it to me!!

[queenofthekings]

ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ

Summary: You tell your family you're dating someone and at Christmas dinner, you panic and call the first person in your contacts.

Author’s note: The last of my Edancy fics now a Reader fic. Enjoy!

CW: Swearing, Eddie and Reader being shits to each other

Word count: 2.1k

Tagging: @reidsbtch, @lunatictardis, @battymunson

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

“FUCK!” You yelled from your kitchen as you frantically tried to do five things at once. As it was your turn to host Christmas dinner, you decided to try your hand at making a traditional English roast… by yourself… and only using Google to help. You’d already burned various fingers, overcooked the Brussel sprouts twice and put sugar in the Yorkshire pudding after not quite understanding that it wasn’t actually dessert.

Long story short; you were completely fucked.

Just as things were going swimmingly, a text from your mother appeared on your phone; “Hi, sweetie; we’ll be there in 45 minutes! Can’t wait for your Christmas feast and to finally meet the boyfriend you’ve told me so much about!”

You stared at the text for several minutes before muttering a “bollocks” under your breath. You’d been so preoccupied with preparing everything for Christmas, you’d completely forgotten you’d invented a boyfriend so your parents would stop asking you when you would get one.

Your right eye twitching slightly with annoyance, you opened up your contacts and began to scroll through them. “Dated in high school, hooked up with once, married, married, therapist, I think he tried to sell me drugs once-” you stopped yourself as you looked at Eddie’s name in your contact list.

As much as you hated to admit it, you might just have to ask Eddie Munson for a favour of being your boyfriend for the afternoon. You pressed the call button on his name before rushing back into the kitchen to check on your roast turkey, it looked fine to you, but you had a sinking feeling it wasn’t going to be ready in time.

“Drugs Empire, this is Eddie speaking,” Eddie’s sarcastic and slightly bored tone came through the phone. You could hear faint clicking in the background, indicating he was in the middle of playing a video game.

“Eddie, emergency! You’re my boyfriend!”

“I-Sweetheart-” Eddie stuttered, instantly perking up while also almost falling out of his chair, “that’s a bit forward, don’t you think? I’m a bit rusty but I’ll give a quick glance at a manual.”

“No, no, you’re not actually my boyfriend.”

“Oh, that was quick. It’s a rollercoaster, this phone call.”

“Well, I need a boyfriend really quickly.”

“Well, I hope you’re nicer to the next one!”

“No, shut up! Christmas dinner, me cooking-”

“So?”

“So, I may have accidently invented a boyfriend.”

“Yeah I did that once in the Sims and there’s no easy way to get rid of them after you make them.”

“No not on the Sims! A pretend one, an imaginary one and I said he’d be coming to Christmas dinner.”

Eddie went silent for a few moments before you spoke up again, clearly defeated as you sat on your kitchen floor.

“I just need you to come for Christmas dinner, just do that for me. Just come to Christmas dinner and be my Christmas date, can you do that for me?”

From the other side of the phone, Eddie sighed as he paused his game. “Alright, fine, I’ll be there in 20 minutes. But you owe me massively for this.”

The call ended and you sprinted into the dining room to begin arranging the cutlery and crackers. You tried your best to make everything look uniform but somehow it didn’t look quite right. The decorations you’d put up weeks beforehand didn’t quite match the table set up, not that you could do much about it now.

The frown on your face was enough to kill a man stone dead until the doorbell rang, then you tried to smile. “It’s Christmas, it’s Christmas, it’s Christmas,” you whispered to yourself to try to smile but all you could muster was something akin to a grimace. Better than nothing.

You opened the door and instantly frowned again to see Eddie in front of you. “Oh, it’s you.”

“What do you mean ‘oh it’s you’? I’m your lord and saviour for this afternoon, thank you very much,” Eddie faked hurt as he pushed past you and towards the dining room.

“Sure, Eddie, just come right in,” you muttered as you slammed the door closed and jogged to keep up with him.

Stood in the dining room, the look of horror and confusion on his face was almost comical as he tried to find the words to say. “It looks like Martha Stewart threw up in here,” he finally said.

You whacked him in the stomach with your elbow. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and continue walking into the kitchen.”

Without protesting, Eddie followed you into the kitchen and the look of horror and confusion returned in full force. “So, uh, what monstrosity are you cooking up in here?”

You sighed, finally ready to admit defeat. “Well, I was trying to make a traditional English roast, roast turkey with gravy, roast potatoes, carrots, parsnip, Brussel sprouts, broccoli, stuffing, and Yorkshire pudding. Then sticky toffee pudding for dessert. But it’s not going too well, as you can see.”

Eddie forced a smile, patting your shoulders. “We can fix this, sweetheart. Trust me, you got this. But first things first; what are you even listening to?”

You looked at him, confused. “It’s just some random Christmas music I found, why?”

He shook his head as he opened up Spotify on your phone, not letting you see what music he was going to select, a smile coming onto his face as he selected the choice. “This seems more like you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Eddie, is this K-Pop?”

“Yeah, and?”

You chuckled as you checked again on the turkey. “I just didn’t picture you as the type to listen to Twice.”

“It’s to get the girls!” He raised his arms in surrender.

Shaking your head, you raised an eyebrow. “Eddie, you talk to three girls in your life on a consistent basis; one is a lesbian, one is married and the other is me. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“You want my help or not?” You didn’t answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now we gotta talk relationships; how long have you told your parents we’ve been together?”

Licking your lips, you thought for a moment. “I think I first mentioned having a boyfriend around August.”

“You’ve faked having a boyfriend for four months?!” He couldn’t help but laugh as he snuck a carrot. “I’m impressed, sweetheart. So does this mean the relationship is still in the honeymoon phase or have we passed that?”

You laughed a little. “You’re more or less asking what would piss my dad off more; knowing I’m dating you or knowing I’m dating you and we’re still very touchy-feely with each other. Although, I would still say still somewhat in the honeymoon phase.”

He grinned, giving your ass a playful smack, igniting a small yelp from you. “Perfect,” the doorbell rang before he could do anything else, much to your relief.

“I’ll get the door, you stay here and stop eating my carrots,” you gave him the side eye as you walked out.

“But they’re good!” He called back, taking one last carrot before sulking.

You opened the front door and put on your best smile for your family. “Merry Christmas!” you exclaimed before you were pulled into a hug by your mother.

“I’m so glad you arranged this, sweetheart. We’ve been looking forward to this for weeks,” she pressed a hard kiss to your cheek before walking inside, followed closely by your father, your younger brother who was glued to his phone and your little sister who handed you a candy cane before disappearing off somewhere.

You closed the door behind them and ushered them into the living room before grabbing Eddie from the kitchen. “Any pet names and touching are fine, I’ll give you two taps on your arm if it gets too much, understood?” you hissed.

“Yes, ma’am,” Eddie whispered back, forcing a smile as both of you walked into the living room.

Your forced smile was almost sickening as you looked at your family, gripping Eddie’s hand. “Everyone, this is Eddie, my boyfriend.”

The looks on your family’s faces said it all; your mother’s smile was just as forced as yours and Eddie’s, your father was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, your brother looked as if he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole and your sister just facepalmed.

Dinner wasn’t much better, with everyone sitting and eating in almost complete silence – only broken by the occasional question to pass a certain food until your mother spoke up. “So, how did you two meet?”

You almost choked on a parsnip, Eddie gently patting and rubbing your back as he chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got this. Well, we met back in August at Scoops Ahoy, of all places, she was there with Robin and Chrissy, and I walked into her and made her drop her ice cream. So of course, I bought her a new one and then we just got talking, I asked for her number, and I guess the rest is history.”

He looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him, the tenderness and love in his eyes was almost believable. He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek before going back to eating. You felt a change in your stomach, suddenly feeling somewhat regret that all this was fake. It hadn’t really dawned on you how much you missed companionship outside of friendship until you were alone with Eddie.

After the main meal was over, both you and Eddie disappeared back into the kitchen to get dessert ready. Eddie forked all the leftovers into a pot to be saved while you assembled the plates for the sticky toffee pudding, both of you not speaking to each other even though you could both feel the tension between you. But both of you being as stubborn as the other, you weren’t going to be the first to admit to anything.

“Eddie, could you get the ice cream out of the freezer? There should be a massive pot of vanilla right as you open it,” you requested, being sure to not get too sticky from the treacle.

“Of course, honey.” Eddie said almost harshly, opening the freezer and handing you the pot. You gave him a smile and instantly began plating the ice cream over the large squares of goodness, leaving one plate of just ice cream for your little sister. “Are we okay?”

You frowned slightly, nodding your head. “Yeah, we’re fine. Why would you think something’s up?”

“Because you’ve been quiet almost this whole time since your mom asked how we met.”

You slowly licked your lips, shaking your head. “I’m fine, we’re fine, I just got distracted by thinking about dessert.”

He chuckled almost bitterly, grabbing a couple of the bowls to take out. “You’re not fooling anyone, sweetheart.”

You sighed, bringing the rest of the bowls out before sitting down at the table. “I hope this goes down as well as the roast, just don’t give any to the little one because there is alcohol in this.”

Everyone laughed and tucked in, you slowly picking at your food and forcing yourself to eat. Eddie noticed your discomfort and placed a hand on your thigh, gently rubbing the inside of it with his thumb. You sat up straighter, trying to keep your composure as you gave Eddie a side glance of “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie smirked at you, feeding you a mouthful of ice cream.

Once dessert was over and your family left, the pair of you were back in your kitchen, beginning to load up the dishwasher, still not wanting to fully talk about the day’s events. Both of you could obviously feel the difference between each other; you stopped being as sarcastic to each other, and it seemed both of you wanted it to be real, but you just had to find a way to tell it to each other.

You looked at Eddie and muttered a “screw it” under your breath before grabbing him and kissing him. Eddie was taken aback for a second until he came to his senses and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Both of you felt the spark, your heart’s skipping a beat and the warm glow in your stomachs.

Oh shit.

Eddie was the one to pull away from the kiss. “You’re a bitch,” he whispered against your lips.

You chuckled softly. “And you’re an asshole.”

“Can I take you out for dinner sometime, then?”

“Yeah, alright.”

[unmaskthewriter]

Scars {John Marston x GN!Reader}

Summary: Unable to sleep, you begin to examine John’s scarred body.

A/N: a very short little blurb I wanted to write.

Warnings: bad memories, scars from violence, mentions of character death

Word Count: 500+

You lay in the large bed, the covers barely draped over your naked form. John lay beside you, fast asleep, his arm lazily draped along your bare hips. His breathing was calm, and steady.

The fireplace has long burned out, leaving a soft chill in the room. Through the drapes, the moonlight leaked into the room. Carefully, you turn to face John’s sleeping form. Your gaze travels his skin as your gentle fingers come to touch his bare chest, tracing over various scars and old bullet wounds now healed. Sometimes, he’d tell you the origin of a few of the scars. Having been a member of the gang for some time prior to its dissolution, you were aware of his marred cheek from the wolf attack in the Grizzlies, and the bullet wound in his upper arm from the last train robbery. Your fingers traced the different dips and grooves of each scar, almost admiring the story it would tell.

“What’re doing…?” John mumbled sleepily beside you, his eyes still closed. You didn’t mean to wake him due to your own insomnia, having since decided to distract yourself with his scars and what some would call imperfections.

“… ‘m sorry… couldn’t sleep.” You speak softly, your hand traveling upwards, past his neck to brush some loose strands of hair from his face. All of his scars, those memories — you wouldn’t be where you were without them. Sometimes, you wonder if the others were okay, even if they had gone against Arthur, John and yourself in the end. All those who died before the end came, perhaps they were the lucky ones.

Mac.

Davey.

Kieran.

Sean.

Hosea.

Lenny.

Molly.

Susan.

Arthur.

If it weren’t for Arthur and his sacrifice, you and John would have been caught by the Pinkertons, or killed.

It’s near impossible to forget the weeks and months following yours and John’s escape from Dutch van der Linde and the Pinkertons. That consistent fear of being figured out, and turned in, or somehow always feeling out of place even in towns you resided in or near before the gang’s fallout. The arm draped over your waist pulls you in closer as John buries his face in your neck.

“Coulda told me… stayed up with you.” He responded tiredly, still half asleep. His hot breath meets your neck and you shudder.

“Wasn’t worth waking you up over, love.” You whisper back. John worked hard to create a life for the both of you, a life that didn’t include gunslinging and robberies. Those days were long gone. Lazily, John places a kiss on your shoulder. As his chapped lips meet your soft skin, all worries melt away.

You try to imagine a future without John; a future where the left side of the bed is empty, and cold… a future where you are alone, barely surviving. You silently prayed the day would never come.

“I love you, John… I really do.” You speak softly, only to be met with snores. Smiling softly, you press a kiss to his temple and close your eyes, welcoming John’s warmth and comfort as you slowly fall back into dreams.