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angellissy · 3 years ago

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Hey :) I’ve never requested anything before so I’m sorry if i do it wrong hahah

But could I request something where instead of ward faking his death it’s rafe who has to do it and none of the pouges know about your relationship until it’s you crying in the dock instead of Sarah. And when you and the piggies go on the “rescue” mission to get Sarah off of the boat you see rafe and eventually end up staying with him and leaving your friends

I’m sorry if this is really long xx thank you for taking the time to read my request

R E A C H I N G F O R T H E S U R F A C E

SEASON TWO SPOILERS!

rafe Cameron x Reader

warnings: angst with a big a, canon rafe (maybe a bit softer), toxic relationship, rafe playing the victim card, death and talks of suicide.

a/n: I feel like it is of importance that I tell you all that I have done everything in my power not to romanticize the rafe cameron character and if I have then please kindly let me know because sometimes it can be hard. However I still need to say that I am writing through the eyes of the “reader” who very much still cares for this boy, which also means that the way the reader deals with things might not have been your way. If any more warnings should be included in the beginning, feel free to let me know. I hope you enjoy this fic which I am actually very proud of. A big thanks to @snkkat who is my proof reading buddy. Also thanks for sending in the request, I LOVED writing it! <3

They say that when you die your life flashes before your eyes, but how about when you watch someone else die? For as you watched him die, the life and moments the two of you had shared flashed before your eyes like a string of reminders of a life and love lost. It felt as if there was no air for you to breathe, you weren’t even sure how long it had been since you managed to take a full breath. Your mind was running in circles, trying to grasp what had just occurred, replaying the scene over and over again until you were not even sure what reality you were in. With a hammering heart and a split soul, you were kneeling on the dock, just minutes after watching your first love take his own life. You could not even remember how you had gotten out here in the first place, you just wished that you would have stayed behind as all your friends rushed toward a disaster in waiting. Perhaps that would have spared you some of the heartbreak, spared you from hearing him scream that he loved you one last time, spared you from seeing his boat go up in flames. But no, you were sure that for as long as you lived, you would see that blazing inferno whenever you closed your eyes.

There were arms around you, an attempt to soothe your shaking body, it only made you feel more trapped in a memory you would never escape. Those arms lifted you up and suddenly you were walking, mixed in all the anger and sadness there was a surprise that your body was even able to function. It felt as if you were outside of your body watching everything occur, you watched as Kiara and JJ helped you sit down on a sofa and as they draped a blanket over your shoulders. You watched it unfold, but you couldn’t feel it and there was no way that you would be able to respond to their worried questions. Instead, you were stuck in a mind that replayed everything Rafe had ever said or done to you as if that somehow could manifest him back to life. That stuck-up boy with the golden hair had been your first boyfriend, complicated as the relationship may have been, it had been the first time you ever experienced something close to love. Just days ago you had stood before him, tears in your eyes and heart in your throat as you called the relationship off. For a very long time, he had not been the boy you fell for, but rather a ghost of who he once was. Where he had once been sweet and tender with you, there had only been cold stares and words sharp enough to cut through ice. You were not oblivious to the fact that he struggled with issues you could never comprehend, but you refused to be an accomplice in his undoing. Time after time you had tried to be the person he could cling to when the world sat heavily upon his shoulders, but you soon realized that love and affection could not solve all problems. Oh, and you had loved him so much that you would have done anything for him to smile at you the way he had when he uttered those big three words for the first time. He had watched you with eyes that held so much adoration that you thought that they would never dim, that they would shine brighter for each time his eyes found yours. But eventually, they had dulled, and so you had realized that you would not sacrifice yourself no matter how much you cared for him. It did not matter that you had called things off with him or that you had decided to leave him in order to save yourself, for the knowledge that he was actually gone made it feel like someone was clawing at your heart and trying to rip it apart. It felt like no time in the world would be able to heal the pain in your chest or dry the tears falling from your eyes.

Time was indeed a funny thing, how seconds turned into minutes and how then those minutes became hours. Hours that you spent reminiscing over a life you thought you had given up before it was lost forever. You clung to the memories of him as if they were the lifebuoy keeping an anchor from pulling you down in a sea made up of your own sorrow. You knew that you were staying in your own made-up memories of a relationship with more bad times than good, but a part of you felt that you could not grieve the person he had become. For he had been vile and horrid, and if you acknowledged that, you would feel guilty for the sadness overwhelming you. So yes, you stayed in your made-up reality and wept for the boy that could have been. As hours turned into days, your friends made every effort to comfort you and try to get you out of the room that had become your place of mourning. Their tries aggravated you, for they did not understand the feelings rushing through your body at such speed it made you lightheaded. Each one of them had hated Rafe Cameron with at least one bone in their body and you knew how some of them had looked the day he died as if they were content that he was finally gone. Relieved that he could no longer plague them with taunts and threats that might have become reality was it not for his passing. You might have understood this, had it not been for the grief and guilt plaguing every bone in your body.

As days turned into weeks, you eventually came to appreciate their efforts to help you. It was like your vision was starting to clear and you could finally start trying to live your life again, and the first step to doing that was always to surround yourself with people that made you roar with laughter. Their ventures to try and find the Cross of Santo Domingo, were helpful, to say the least. Those adventures were as distracting as they were terrifying since the outcome was never given. Your mixed friend group of pogues and kooks had actually found that damn cross as well. Who would have thought that a bunch of high school kids would be able to find a historic relic? The answer would have been no one, and that is why you don’t underestimate kids with no limits. The cross had been in your grasp until a greedy and manipulative Ward Cameron came along and grabbed it. Ever since that particular happening, things started going south fast and it all ended up with Sarah being kidnapped by her own guardians. It also ended up with the rest of you stowed away like cargo on the ship she was on. While John B and Pope carried out their plan to find Sarah and the famous cross, you, JJ, and Kie sweated from every pore as you waited to hear from them. You had zoned out, staring mindlessly into one of the walls of the container, in the background you could hear your two friends talk about their dreams for the future. Something about going on several surfing trips at various destinations with each other, and that part made your heart ache. Sure, after everything he had done, a future with Rafe had not been one of your dreams. Still, as you listened to your friends talk, you could only remember a time where he had been everything you wanted in life. You pressed your palms upon your face as if you somehow could force every memory of him to remain in that little part of your brain where you were hoping they would become forgotten. A loud clank dragged you out of your thoughts and you looked up just in time to see Pope and John B climb in through that small window opening, followed by a woman you had never ever seen. Shortly after that, problems started to arise and soon all of you were scrambling out of the container in hopes of not being detected by the workers on the boat. They were in obvious search of all of you, which made you sweat even more than you had done inside the container. All of you received different plans on how to tackle the situation, yours was to act as a lookout for John B as he searched for Sarah.

You followed him down to what you could only assume was the boiler room since steam was thick in the air and you took your place by the door as he ventured further down. His desperate cries for Sarah echoed through the room and you dearly wished for a response to be heard, but there was nothing except the sound of his shoes against the floor. Thump, thump, thump and then utter silence until John B utters a name that made it feel as if the floor was pulled away from under your feet.

“Rafe.”

One of your hands finds the doorframe, a poor attempt to steady yourself as you try to figure out if this is a trick played by your grieving mind. You take a few breaths and as the silence is once again interrupted by two raised voices, you follow John B’s path down into the room. The heart in your chest is beating so hard that it feels like you are going to throw up, and it only gets worse the nearer you come. At first, you only see your friend, but then you look past him

and

your

heart

stops.

Rafe Cameron had died in front of your very eyes, so either the gods were playing a nasty cruel joke or you had lost the battle with your mind. You shut your eyes just to open them again, and no matter how many times you did it, he still remained. What happened next was a bit peculiar to you, for weeks you had drowned in grief where sadness was the constant emotion, but as you looked him in the eye and saw that he was very much alive, rage and anger crushed into you with the force of a thousand waves. You stepped toward him, only for an arm to shoot out to stop you, and John B added to his gesture by saying “Don’t”. Laughter bubbled in your throat, for who was he to tell you what you could or could not say to your “dead” ex-boyfriend who seemed to never stop causing you grief.

“Find Sarah.” John B hesitated for a few moments before following your unspoken order to leave you and Rafe alone. It wasn’t surprising considering that his worry for Sarah would always overpower anything else. Once again you looked into Rafe’s blue eyes, remembering a time when you used to stare in them for so long you would see specks of green and grey. Had you searched for those colors now, you would probably have found them. However, you were trying to decipher whatever feeling that was shining in them, was it anger? No, his other features were too soft for that and the hand holding his weapon had gone slack as he watched you. Maybe it was relief? No that was not it either, for why would he be relieved to see you? You were not the one who had died and left the other behind. You stepped even closer to him, the simmering anger inside of your veins made your hands shake and he looked at them briefly as if he wanted to take them in his. Your hands clenched into fists and you watched as his shoulders dropped the tiniest bit, and suddenly you knew exactly what was shining in his eyes.

Love, and sadness. Your heart started to speed up again, and you knew that once you opened your mouth, the anger and grief that had become part of you, would tumble out in words that you would never be able to take back. But he had done something much worse, so he would listen, you would make sure of it. Your lips parted slightly and he must have seen it for his words came first.

“I- fuck I am sorry okay? But I had to do it, you wouldn’t understand but I had to do it, it was the best for everyone.” As he says this you can’t help the sound that slips through your lips, it was supposed to be a laugh but it sounds more like a sob. His eyes flicker between you and everything else in the room as if there was anything in here that could save him for this conversation. You move your hands toward your chest and his eyes watch as you press them hard against your chest, against the heart that won’t stop breaking.

“Best for everyone?” Your voice is the combination of a whisper and a ragged breath “Did you have my best interest in mind when you let me believe you had blown yourself up?” He winces and makes an attempt to say something but you hold up a hand to stop him. “Did it ever occur to you how your little stunt would affect the one person who still, despite everything, loved you?” This time, your voice has started to rise towards something like a scream, and how could you not scream when there is so much sadness inside of you that it felt like just looking at him would turn your body into a pool of water.

“You broke up with me, so don’t start acting like a victim where you aren’t one.” His features are starting to morph into those he carries when anger overcomes him, but you will not back away from this. Your hands are in your hair, pulling at it as if that would help you make sense of this situation. “You broke my heart long before I broke yours.” You can’t help the way your voice breaks or the tears that start falling from your eyes.“You needed and still need help and until you receive that help, you are prone to hurt anyone in your vicinity.” Now it is his turn to drag his hands through his hair and his breaths come faster and faster until you realize that he is starting to hyperventilate. He sinks to the floor and you follow, not sure how to help when it feels like his state is mirroring your own. With cautious movements, you place your hands on his shoulders, and the shaking of his body sends trembles throughout yours. For a while nothing happens, you just sit there with your hands on his body and watch him fall apart. Perhaps you should have been glad that he was suffering, after everything he had done to you he deserved it. But you couldn’t feel anything other than anguish and as a sob escaped his body every restraint you had kept on yourself broke and you hugged him towards your chest. You could never save him, but he clung to you as if you had the power to undo every wrong he had ever done. After a while, he looks up at your tear-streaked face and one of his hands reaches up to cup it. You want to look away because you can see everything in those eyes of his, every regret and every wish he has ever had. His forehead leans towards you and you feel his hot breath against your skin. As you breathe in the scent of cologne and feel his skin against yours, you feel overwhelmed by the fact that he is actually here. You notice that his lips part and for a second you are scared that he is going to kiss you, but he must know that there is a limit to your patience with him so he just whispers words with the promise of what could have been. “I wanted to be good for you.” A small smile takes place on your lips and you close your eyes as you try to restrain the well of emotions inside of you. “I know Rafe, I know.” He breathes out a little, almost as if he is relieved that you are aware that he tried in a world and with a mind constantly working against him. You knew, but you also knew that there was someone else out there for you. Someone who would love you in a way that Rafe would never be able to, in a way that would not send the two of you to the bottom of the ocean. Whoever was out there would make you swim. For so long you had wanted to believe that Rafe was the one, despite all his flaws you would have given anything for him to be your future. It was a relief to know that you could and deserved to have more. But you also knew that you needed to do something before that could happen.

“I will stay-.” Before you could even finish your sentence he whipped his head up to look at you with such hope you never wanted to continue talking. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to go on. “I will stay with you just to make sure you receive the help you need.” His whole body deflated and you had to bite your lip in order not to cry again. Eventually, he nodded and you closed your eyes in relief. You knew that this had to be the right move, no one else would listen to him or make sure he got help, so you needed to be the one to did. Just enough so that you finally could start swimming towards the surface.

#rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron headcanon #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x you #drew starkey #outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks season 2 #outer banks imagine #obx #obx season 2 #obx spoilers #obx fanfiction

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fireflykaizoku · 3 years ago

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Hello! I really loved your Killer body swap fic. If you could do one for Law with a gn reader that would be great. No pressure tho! I hope you're having a good day

Hii anon! Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it! ❤ I hope you're having a good week! i got too carried away with this, so it's a bit long :')

You woke up very excited, it was finally your 23th birthday, and your captain would stop teasing you for being the youngest of the crew, just because he was a few months older. It was also your first birthday with them and the members kept saying they were organizing something to celebrate the whole week, but said it was a secret.

When you went to the kitchen to have breakfast. That’s when you saw everyone waiting for you, holding a cake. You also noticed a sign saying Happy Birthday. They seemed happy, even the captain who was always grumpy.

— Happy Birthday, brat! — he said.

— Thank you, Kid! — you smiled, even feeling a little emotional. They actually planned everything. — Thank you so much, guys. It means so much to me.

They even had presents, some homemade, which made everything more meaningful. And the rest of the day was full of celebrations, singing happy birthday, and having a special dinner. It was late when you finally fell asleep, still excited about the celebrations and wondering if that would be the year you’d meet your soulmate. Maybe they were older. Or perhaps they were younger and you’d have to wait.

When you woke up, you felt uncomfortable, your back hurt and it felt like you barely had any sleep. Opening your eyes, you realized you were sitting on a chair at a place that looked nothing like the Victoria Punk. The room looked clean and even smelled like disinfectant, the lights also made your sleepy eyes hurt a little.

Your first thought is that you were kidnapped, but you weren’t handcuffed and that’s how you noticed it wasn’t… Your body, since the hands and fingers had tattoos. Tattoos you remember seeing somewhere.

Getting up, you saw it looked like an infirmary or a doctor’s office. There was some papers all over the desk too, nothing with a name or anything that could give any hints. So you opened the door, trying to find a mirror. You spotted a bear wearing an orange jumpsuit with a Jolly Roger.

Oh no.

The bear, the Jolly Roger, and “death” written on your fingers. You could recognize all those elements anywhere, and now it made sense.

You were in your soulmate’s body, and your soulmate was Trafalgar Law, the Surgeon of Death.

Your captain wasn’t very fond of him, and now you could only imagine what would happen when Law woke up and noticed where he was. But now you had a bigger problem: the man was a doctor, with a powerful devil fruit, and he was a captain.

You gulped, and noticed the bear was looking at you with a smile.

— Hey, bear. — you said, trying to look serious. — I’ll… Be in my office, working on… That thing.

You went back to the office wondering how you’d find your crew and switch back. You didn’t even know where you were! The den den mushi on his desk started ringing, and for a while, you wondered if you should answer.

— It’s me, it’s Law. — he sighed, not hiding the fact he wasn’t pleased with the situation. — I guess we have this soulmate thing going on, and apparently you’re part of… — he got interrupted by your angry captain.

— (Y/N)! Get your ass back here, I don’t want to be around Trafalgar! You two better find a way to fix this right now!

— As I was saying, don’t worry. We’ll switch back somehow, just follow my instructions. I’ll give you my location now, and my navigator will take care of the rest. Just find Bepo and tell him you need to go to this place. Don’t say anything else and just go back to my office or to my room. We should be able to meet tomorrow first thing in the morning. — he paused. — And don’t eat bread.

He gave the location of the Victoria Punk, and you went looking for Bepo, which you found out was the bear you greeted this morning. Gladly, he didn’t ask any questions. After walking around, you found his bedroom. You decided to stay there as much as possible, reading one of the books that were in his room.

It was finally morning, and Bepo knocked on the door to announce you had arrived at the destination. You could see Law, in your body, arguing with Kid. They stopped as soon as they saw the submarine.

You were now in Law’s office staring at each other, while the some of his crewmembers were trying to hear what was going inside wondering who was this mysterious person the captain just brought from Kid’s crew.

— So, apparently we need to kiss to switch back? — he raised an eyebrow, you nodded.

— Not just a kiss. It needs to be a kiss when we fall in love, or else it won’t work. — you shrugged. — It can’t be a “let’s get over with this” kiss, I’m sorry.

— That’s nonsense, what if people never fall in love with each other? They’ll have to be like that forever? — you nodded again, not knowing if he wanted a real answer. Law didn’t seem happy. — Let’s try anyway.

You widened your eyes, not expecting this answer. He moved closer, and with a hand on the back of your neck, he pulled you for a kiss. It didn’t feel magical, it didn’t feel like kissing your soulmate. And when you opened your eyes, you realized nothing had changed.

He sighed and started thinking. The doctor had the idea of making you stay with his crew until you could switch back somehow. Your captain cussed and complained, but had no other choice. The Heart Pirates also didn’t ask any questions.

For the next weeks, you stayed on the office with Law, trying to find another way to fix that. He even tried to teach you using his devil fruit powers to switch back, but apparently, it didn’t work. You fell asleep on his shoulder many times while he was studying something, only to wake up and see you were covered in a blanket that wasn’t there before.

During the days, he told you to get something to eat, anything except bread, if he noticed you’ve been too long without eating anything. He also brought you a bottle of water often whenever he wasn’t working. You smiled when you realized how he seemed to care.

Law was very unpleased when he couldn’t reach things from the shelves now that he was in your body, so you had to help him often. Meanwhile, you used to hit your head many times a day, after all, you weren't that tall before.

Although he didn’t seem to be patient with many people, he was patient with you, answering your questions about something you read on his medical books. And when you got tired of staying in the room or his office, you went to take a nap on Bepo. The polar bear didn’t understand why his captain was very affectionate out of the blue, but it seemed to help him with his low self-esteem.

You had time to get to know your soulmate well. He told you about his goals, and about his past, which made you hug him right away. He was caught off guard that time. You also shared your story and why you joined Kid’s crew. Sometimes, you were able to see him smiling when you said something funny, or getting embarrassed when you complimented him.

— Law, are we going to stay like this forever? — you asked, a bit concerned. It has been long enough.

— I don’t know (Y/N)-ya. I’m sure I’ll find something… We’ll just keep trying. — he looked at you, noticing your sad expression. — What’s wrong?

— I miss my crew… They felt like my family, I feel… A bit lonely without them. I know they’re chaotic, but they felt like home somehow.

— Hey, don’t be like that… — his voice sounded unusually soft and he wasn’t furrowing his eyebrows anymore. — You have me, okay? You’re not alone.

You didn’t reply nor looked at him. But you felt him hugging you, the first time he touched you for a reason other than checking your health or to try to switch bodies again. When your gaze met his, as if something was attracting you both, he kissed you again. And this time, it felt different. It felt right, as if you were both… In love. As if you two had been waiting to kiss each other one more time.

When you opened your eyes, you saw that it worked. After studying, after researching, the solution was clear. You didn’t need devil fruit powers or any scientific idea to switch back. All you needed was time.

#law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece scenario #trafalgar law

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cordria · 4 years ago

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Twin Cores - DP

Saw this headcanon on Tumblr… awhile ago? It stuck with me, and I ended up writing this, and now I can’t find it to give the person proper credit. Lemme know if anyone recognizes this idea and knows who came up with it. (heart)

Was gonna do this idea for the Big Bang thing, but I forgot all about signing up. ;) Wonders. So I’ll just post it and come up with new ideas.

~2,700 words.

Danny floated high above the clouds, up where the air was thin and cold and the stars sparkled brightly overhead. It was terribly late, and Danny knew he’d be paying for this at school tomorrow, but this was always the best part of his week. He couldn’t come up here all the time, but when he cound, he always found himself relaxing. Hands behind his head, he floated on his back, studying the stars.

He let out a breath through his lips and brought a hand forwards to massage his chest, closing his eyes. Yesterday had not been good day. An accident with some of his parents’ technology had completely ruined his day. For reasons Danny didn’t understand, his chest had felt overly full since. Almost like he needed to cough up something - which couldn’t be, because his ghost form didn’t have any real lungs to cough with.

With a groan, Danny stretched and rolled his body through a bunch of sharp loop-the-loops and twists, hoping maybe he could work out the kink. Nothing. Hopefully it wouldn’t prevent him from getting a good night’s rest. He was exhausted.

He floated for a few minutes longer, watching the sky and hoping for a meteor or two, slowly turning the overfull feeling over in his mind. He pushed and prodded at the odd sensation, trying to come up with what in the world it could be.

It had to relate to his parents’ invention. Unfortunately, the day was a fuzzy blur in Danny’s memory and if something in particular had happened to him, he wouldn’t be able to remember it on his own. All he could do on his own was a vague understanding of what had happened.

Getting zapped with one of the newer devices yesterday had resulted in Danny getting split - again. His ghost half had fallen captive to the hero-like obsession of his core, and had gone on a hero-spree. A memory of rescuing a cat from a tree in a very overblown, comic-like way surfaced and Danny buried his face in his hands, embarrassed for himself. “Ugh, I hope nobody videoed that. Or anything else,” he muttered.

His human half had wandered aimlessly through the day, not knowing what to do with no driving force behind everything he did. Vague memories of eating pizza and not noticing the ghost haunting the place next door until Sam pointed it out filtered through the shadows.

From what he remembered, it hadn’t been a horrible sort of day for either half of him. His ghost half had been allowed to play with his obsession all day and his human half had gotten to just be… human. But he’d been split for much longer than ever before; Tucker and Sam were unable to work through how the strange invention worked.

Danny didn’t remember being much help with the endeavour. In fact, he sort of remembered his human half stealing the device, passing it to his ghost half, and the thing getting placed on top of the school for the afternoon. Jazz finally got it using some of the newer modifications to the Fenton’s vehicle that allowed it to fly.

By the time the three of them figured out how to reverse the effects, it was late in the evening on the second day - more than 36 hours since being split. Phantom had started to turn more and more ghost, losing more of his humanity each hour, delving deeper and deeper into this hero obsession. His eyes had turned more ghostly, teeth sharpening, fingers turning into claws. Even a cape had started to mist into view.

Danny slowly ran his tongue over his teeth - they were still a bit too sharp - and pulled his hands far enough away from his face to glance at his fingers. They weren’t claws, not like many ghosts had, but… his fingers no longer really looked human. The changes that had happened to his ghost form the last two days appeared to be permanent, even now that they were rejoined back together.

Danny… didn’t want to think about that. Not yet.

And his human half had started to go through changes as well. Danny vaguely remembered - towards the end of the escapade, when he’d convinced himself that he didn’t want to be rejoined with Phantom - trying to avoid everyone and ending up in a tree, floating in a very inhuman way. His totally human form regaining some of its ghost powers.

Danny mentally poked at the odd, full sensation in his chest again. Perhaps it was that his ghost powers had grown while he was separated. Phantom hadn’t been exactly a half-a-ghost when they’d been slammed back together. And Danny had been just a bit of ghost too. Perhaps now he was somehow 60% ghost and 50% human… and his body was trying to adjust to being too much ghost.

His mind poked at the sensation in his chest just a bit too hard. Danny slammed his eyes shut tight as he felt the sensation of transformation travel through him - lightning sharp and aching into his phantom bones. Panic set in a second later. He couldn’t transform up here - there wasn’t enough oxygen for his human form to breathe. He’d pass out and fall to his death.

He gasped and threw his arms out, instinctively trying to grab something even though he was on the edge of the atmosphere, as the transformation arced through his arms and legs. He kept his eyes closed as he fumbled for his ghost side. He needed to transform back fast. His human side would already be aching to breathe, desperate for oxygen after the last hour of being in ghost form.

But his ghost side… was…

Danny opened his eyes as he realized he wasn’t falling. As he realized his ghost form wasn’t something to grab for, because he was still a ghost.

“But…” he whispered, startled and confused. He’d felt himself transform. There was no mistaking the sensation that had swept through him. He looked around, almost as if the answer would be written in the air next to him.

Then the stars caught his gaze. He froze, mouth falling open, as he stared up at the sky. There were more stars than before, the whole sky alight with points of light. And he knew them - with each star he focused his eyes on, he knew what that star was. How far away it was, what it’s name was, what kind of star it was…

Delight sparkled inside him as he let his gaze drift across the heavens. Stars he didn’t even know existed seemed to soak into his skin, whispering all their secrets in his ears. “How…?” he breathed, twisting around and around and looking everywhere he could. “Why?”

His gaze snagged on the moon, crescent-shaped and gleaming. He almost felt like he was drowning in it’s glow, feeling everything about it. The ice hiding in its craters. The human-built machinery peppering its surface. The soft warmth still coiling in its dying core. He could just… go there. He could be there in about three seconds. He could just…

He threw up a hand, blocking the moon’s glow, blinking hard and pushing the thoughts out of his mind. “Holy shit,” he whispered, breathing hard, focusing on Earth, on human thoughts, on normalcy. “What is this?”

Then he saw his hand, thin fingers topped with sharp claws, glove missing. His forehead furrowed as he realized both his gloves were gone, as was the logo on his chest, and the white belt around his waist. A black shirt and black pants. His boots looked like his normal shoes, just moon-lit white. Actually, minus the claws and some color changes, he looked… like he had yesterday. “Uh… What is going on with me?”

He could feel the pull of the stars overhead. He knew he could just lean back, put his arms behind his head, and float there, watching the sky forever. Just revel in space for all time. Instead, he kept his gaze down towards the tops of the clouds.

At least the first step of what he should do now was clear. Whenever he was dealing with anything out of the ordinary, Sam and Tucker knew what to say. They’d help. He’d go home, grab his phone, and call them.

Danny flew towards Amity Park-

-and suddenly drew to a stop. He twisted around, eyes wide, realizing that he’d somehow overshot his home by a dozen miles or more. “What the fuck?” he said. He’d only been flying for a moment - how was he all the way over here? “I…”

He licked his lips and tried again. He set his gaze on Amity Park and flew-

-right past Amity Park again. It was an eyeblink of time between one side of the city and the other. Danny hung in the air, confused and slightly annoyed. “What is going on?” he said. A new power, obviously - but one that had unfortunate timing. His fingers curled, the claws digging uncomfortably into his palms. “This is what I get for leaving my phone behind,” he groused. The phone wouldn’t have done well in the thin, cold atmosphere. Even if he’d have brought it with, there was no guarantee it would have still been working.

“Are all my powers wonky?” Danny asked, raising his hand and pushing energy into his hand. Instead of a steady, gas-like glow, the energy sparkled and hissed, like he was holding onto an exploding firework. “Odd.”

His powers were working differently, so it was time to try using them differently. Time to change tactics. Instead of focusing on a direction, Danny focused his mind on a destination. He closed his eyes, picturing where exactly he wanted to end up. Opening his eyes and taking a deep breath, he tried to fly as slowly as possible.

The world seemed to blur and twist, glowing uncomfortably bright for the fraction of a second Danny allowed himself to be in motion. When the world settled back into place, Danny found himself hovering about ten feet off the ground, within the city of Amiry Park, only about a half-mile from his house. “That worked a lot better,” he said, rather pleased with himself.

Instead of chancing another attempt at flying, Danny figured he’d turn himself human. A ten foot drop wouldn’t be too bad, and he could walk home. It would be the least-tricky way to get home. He took a moment to worry that this new power would prevent him from turning human as easily as normal, but then slammed that idea shut and closed his eyes.

Danny pushed his ghost form away, pulling at that warm and heavy feeling in his mind. There was a sparkling sensation in his mind, then the sharp pain that came with turning himself human again. He dropped, landing lightly on his toes, breathing a heavy sigh of relief that at least this was still normal. He bounced a few times, testing out a few basic powers - invisibility seemed to work like normal, as did phasing through things. He didn’t try floating, for fear of accidentally ending up two towns over and two hundred feet above the ground in human form.

He walked home, rubbing his chest at that strange, too-full sensation, and snuck in the back door. Despite the fact that all the lights were out, he kept himself invisible to avoid his parents. It was so far past curfew that Danny didn’t even want to think about the trouble he’d be in if they realized he was still out.

His bedroom door was still locked. Danny phased through it, flipped on the lights, and dumped himself into his bed. “Ugh,” he groaned, feeling the drain of the last two days on his body. He glanced over at the clock. Just before two in the morning. Part of him wanted to just curl up in his bed and fall asleep, try to get a few hours of sleep before tackling school tomorrow. But too much of him had a tight ball of anxious curiosity.

He groaned as he rolled out of bed and stepped in front of his mirror. He looked awful. Dark rings under his eyes and a horrible, pale tone to his skin. He looked half dead. “On the positive side, nobody will question it if I want to stay home sick tomorrow,” he muttered. He shuddered and shifted his weight, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then triggered the transformation.

His ghost form spread like lightning across his skin, slammed through his head, and settled into his chest like a cold ball of fire. He squeaked one eye open just a touch, not sure of what he was going to see.

Phantom was peering back at him. Danny relaxed, letting his eyes open, and studied himself. From more than a few feet away, he looked absolutely normal. But up close, there were minor changes from the last few days. Teeth that were too pointy. Fingers that were a little more claw-like than normal. Hair that was more… smokey. Just a little. His mouth twisted, unsure of how he felt about the changes. “At least there’s no cape,” he murmured. “I’d look too much like Vlad with a cape.”

He squared his shoulders, set his teeth, and tried flying. He floated up and moved around his bedroom like normal. “So normal.” He caught sight of his claws and shivered. “Mostly.”

“Now…” He took a deep breath and jabbed hard at the over-full feeling in his chest. He was half-hoping nothing would happen. But light sparkled along his body, that tingling almost-painful sensation changing him in very subtle ways. His clothes changed from a jumpsuit to shirt and pants, his shoes looked like they would squeak on the floor as he walked. He was still glowing and transparent. “I’m… a different ghost?” He spread out his arms, feet firmly on the floor afraid to hover. “And I have like… superspeed.”

He took a very careful step forwards, peering closely at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked the same, with the normal green glow. His teeth were sharper, canines almost like little fangs. And… he leaned in, studying his freckles. They glowed, star-like, forming constellations across his skin.

His mind veered off tangent, remembering the stars overhead, the glittering facts that swirled through his mind, the odd bubbling joy that came with even thinking about space. The freckles on his cheeks rearranged themselves into the constellation Draco, and sparks and speckles swirled into life across his clothes. A supernova that resolved itself into the stars overhead. Danny could trace the stars in his clothes, knew everything about each star. He was caught by the strongest urge to fly there. To zip through space to Alrakis, a binary star system eighty-eight light years away. It would only take him 221 years, 5 months, and 3 days…

Danny jerked himself out of his thoughts. He couldn’t fly for over two hundred years. He shuddered and blinked, settling back on his heels. The glowing freckles on his face settled down, his clothes faded back to black. The familiar sort of pitch-black of space. The sort of black Danny imagined the universe looked like before stars existed. “I have space powers now,” Danny realized, his voice slow and excited. “I have space powers! I’m a space ghost!”

Curious, Danny poked at that over-full feeling in his chest again. The world tingled and flashed, and he was back to his old self. Phantom, with the logo and the better posture and the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. “I’m two ghosts, somehow? Two ghosts… and a human...” Danny stared at himself in the mirror. “Or...” he rested his hand on his chest, feeling that strange overly-full feeling. “Or something…?”

Danny shook his head, not sure where to even begin processing that one. Then he turned himself human again, watching the world get dark as the ghost energy faded away. He scratched at his scalp, trundled over to his bed, and dropped into its softness.

There wasn’t much he knew right then. The first was that space powers were the coolest power he could have gotten. And the second was that all this would be easier to process after a few hours of sleep and a large cup of caffeine.

#danny phantom #twin cores #space core AU #this was fun to write #thanks for the idea :)

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kirschteinsj · 4 years ago

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Another life

Genre: angst, (dazai x male reader)

warnings: mentions of blood, guns, language, death

word count: 1.2k

summary: y/n and his last moments with his ex lover

a/n: hi !!! This is my first time uploading something here!! this is a short bit I wrote that I kinda liked !! I'm not too great at this yet, but i hope to post more since its kinda fun !! i hope you enjoy it !! ^_^ !!

The boy sat there, crutched against the cold, concrete wall, wincing in pain. Blood pouring from his abdomen, how long had that wound even been there? It didn’t matter, he knew his precious days were soon to be over and there was no energy left in him to fight. Eventually, Dazai would catch up to him and find him here in his vulnerable state. Either his old lover would kill him or he would bleed to death in this grey, empty garage.

His eyes felt heavy and begged to be closed. But he couldn’t get them too. A part of him wanted to wait until his last breath for Dazai to find him. It excited him, the latter discovering him there bleeding to death. Perhaps he could put him out of his misery.

Dazai’s quick footsteps echoed in the empty hall, he’d found him. Y/n’s head jolted upwards, a sly smirk plastering his face. He was just on time. The agent made his way over to y/n, gun extended before him in case of any surprises

Seeing the tall, slim man’s face made him reminisce about the tender moments they spent together in the past. How his lips felt against his, how his frail hands grazed his skin under the moonlight. The sweet nothings they shared and the witty banter exchanged. He’d missed him, but knew things were better off without him.

“You’re alone.” He croaks, blood trickling at his lips. Dazai’s expression changes. His face which once was a stone-cold emotionless slate was now washed over with a soft expression topped off with a fragile smile. The brunette huffed and lowered himself to y/n’s position and sat on his knees, gun still in his hand.

“I suppose I am. I told Kunikida to stay back and watch over the entrance. Thought I’d spend some alone time with my favourite person, hm?” He teases, placing a curled finger underneath the boy’s chin, tilting his head up towards him.

Dazai looked into his tired eyes, lids hanging low. He too realized he didn’t have long, he was becoming colder.

He recalls the nights he stayed up with him, talking about all the things they wanted to do, how their days went, shit-talking Chuuya. He missed him just as much. But after Dazai had left the mafia, things changed. What once were mutual admirers were now bittersweet enemies. Though, whenever Dazai saw him, he could only think of the y/n that was his lover. Why did it have to be this way?

Y/n’s expressionless eyes bored into Dazai’s. He wanted to tell Dazai everything about the way he had felt for his ex but knew that if he did, the words would trail off his slick lips and end short. He felt as though he’d run out of air and end things unfinished.

“Dazai,” he spoke, gasping for air, “I missed you, you bastard.” Earning a chuckle from Dazai. The lover raised his hand to y/n’s forehead and pushed wisps of his hair away from his eyes, clearing his face so he could see him better.

“You’ve never been keen on pet names, have you?”

“I haven’t. Some things never change.”

Dazai pouts, “You know I wouldn’t mind being called ‘baby’ every now and then.” He whines, rolling his eyes facetiously. Y/n coughs up a laugh and clings onto his stomach, concerning Dazai. He noticed the wound and felt rage, for some reason. Though his mission was to stop y/n and kill him, he felt infuriated at the idea of someone attempting to hurt him. What kind of sick and twisted way of love was this?

“Ouch, that looks bad, who did that to you?” He posed, moving his gun to the opposite hand, gently lifting the boy’s shirt to examine the wound.

He looks down at Dazai’s hands and then averts his eyes back to his slender face, “I dunno, I just noticed it. It’ll kill me pretty soon.”

The older boy sighs, bringing down the shirt. The injury would kill him, yes, but within a few hours to say the least. Truthfully, Dazai was disappointed, he didn’t want to be the one to kill y/n. But leaving him to die here wouldn’t be ideal either. He’d be found and saved, something that Dazai couldn’t let happen either. If y/n was to die, it would have to happen right there and then. The tension on Dazai could be detected from a mile away, y/n caught onto this almost immediately.

“Dazai, I’ve done some horrible things.” Y/n grunts, attempting to sit up straight. Dazai lends him a hand and the boy leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes.

“I know you have. We both have.”

“But you’ve become a better man.” He insisted, “Dazai, if I asked you to do one last favour for me, for old time’s sake, would you?”

The tall man was curious yet hesitant to hear his request. But nonetheless, Dazai agreed to hear this favour. Perhaps he could fulfill a dying man’s wish.

The frail boy opened his mouth and spoke in a near whisper, “Dazai, I want you to shoot and kill me. Right here, right now.”

Dazai felt his stomach drop. He’d killed people before and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again if it meant protecting the lives of others. Though in this case, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to.

“What, are you too afraid to die slowly and painfully like this?” The man smirked as he pointed at the wound, teasing him in an attempt to calm himself down. Y/n let out a soft giggle.

“Maybe I am. But in all honesty, I don’t want to be saved. I think I’ve lived an eventful life, don’t you think so? I think,” he pauses to cough, “that it’s time for me to go.”

Closing his eyes, Dazai leans his head back and inhales. Though he still loved y/n, he knew he’d have to do this before anyone else could. He had to end things here.

“Okay. I’ll kill you. On one condition.”

“That is?”

The tall brunette remained silent, and leaned into y/n’s face. He set the gun underneath his chin, allowing it to hold his head up and slowly, he closed the empty space between the two, lips interlocking. Kissing back with whatever energy was left, y/n hoped this moment would last nearly forever. Was this what heaven was like? He wouldn’t know and wasn’t destined to either. Dazai released from the kiss with a tsk, y/n’s blood resting faintly on the latter’s lips. Gradually, he stood up, towering over his lover. Raising the barrel of the gun to y/n’s head, he looked at him one last time, remembering their lives together. Acknowledging that this was the last time he’d see y/n alive, he exhaled in sadness.

“I missed you too. I’m sorry it had to be this way, y/n.”

“So am I, Dazai. So am I.”

“Maybe we can meet again sometime soon. For old time’s sake.”

“Perhaps, in another life.” He smirked, cocking the gun.

A deafening silence took over. With all his might, y/n opened his mouth to whisper his final words, eyes brimming with tears.

“In another life.”

And with that, Dazai’s gun fired.

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serasvictoria · 3 years ago

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I've Got Dreams To Remember

Pairing: Incubus Hvitserk/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 8244 (yeah, I don't know what happened either)

Summary: A certain young man keeps showing up in your very x-rated dreams.

Notes: I fully realise that the contents of this might not be for everyone, so I’ll just say that according to some stories Incubi are capable of shapeshifting. A certain aspect of this has been inspired by @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie's absolutely brilliant fic, Take Me, so if you've read that you'll know what I'm talking about. And if you haven’t read it, what the hell are you doing? READ IT.

There is another moodboard all the way at the end of this to provide a visual for something that I describe in this so have a look at it at the end.

Tagging: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @vikingstrash @quantumlocked310

He only ever came to you in your dreams.

The dreams were interesting to say the least and he always played a very big part in them. You often wondered what deep and dark recesses of your brain had conjured him up, because you would definitely remember if you had encountered someone like him in real life.

It first started about a month ago. You’d gotten out of a particularly nasty relationship a few months before. You were still trying to navigate your way through this new life that you now had and while your friends were busy with trying to get you back onto the dating scene, you persisted in that regard. You weren’t looking for a new man in your life, but you still had needs. Sure, you had your toys, but they were a somewhat poor substitute when what you really wanted was for someone to grab your ass, lift you up and fuck you up against a wall.

Maybe that was where he had come from. Because that was exactly the scenario that you got the first time that he showed up.

It was a fairly generic one where dreams were concerned. You were in a bar with some people, a wide assortment of people that you knew in real life, when you could feel someone’s eyes on you. You looked up and stared straight into the half shaded face of a young man whose eyes you couldn’t actually make out, but you saw the smile that graced his lips and boy was it hungry. You only glanced away for a second and when you looked back again, he was already gone. You’d resigned yourself to missing your chance, when a hand suddenly grasped your wrist, dragged you outside to a nearby alleyway and gave you exactly what you’d been thinking of during your waking hours.

When you woke up, you had never found yourself feeling so satisfied before. You threw the blankets over your head, rolled over and tried to fall asleep again, but sleep didn’t take you for a second time that morning sadly enough. Later that day, after getting out of the shower and glancing in the mirror before combing your hair, you stared at your reflection in confusion or to be more precise at your bare skin. In your dream, your mystery lover had bitten your shoulder and there, right there on your shoulder, were teeth marks. But that was impossible, right? Maybe the dream had been that intense that it had somehow tricked your body into believing that it had been real? Did things like that even happen?

You didn’t dream of him the next night. Nor the following five nights. Not that you were keeping track or anything. He eventually put in another appearance though. The setting for that dream wasn’t particularly inventive either and you were almost embarrassed that your mind was even coming up with stuff that gave you the impression that they should be storylines in bad porn movies. It was a department store this time and you were looking at underwear. Your fingers continuously ran over the lace trims of various bras and touched the silky panties that came with them.

Again, you felt eyes on you and it was the same young man as from your previous dream. Apparently, dream you was in a frisky mood so you held up various bras in front of your chest, most of which he disapproved of, until you came across a bright red lace number that he seemed to like. When he finally found you in the fitting room shortly after, you were wearing the set that he had wanted to see you in before tearing it off your body and fucking you up against the full length mirror.

That was the first time that you’d gotten a good look at his face. Frankly, you were impressed with what your mind had come up with. He had long dirty blonde hair that he wore in a ponytail and that you longed to see loose. His eyes were green one time and when you looked again they seemed brown. That was one of the parts about him that mystified you. That and the part where you constantly wanted to kiss the tip of his nose and his ears. That was definitely an odd experience to say the least.

He was tall and lithe of build, but with surprising strength in his arms. The way that he would hold you was intense, like he never wanted to let you go. When his shirt came off, you found yourself staring at the intricate tattoo that covered most of his left bicep and part of his chest. It was some kind of Viking design and it looked old, but it was probably meant to look like that. You found yourself tracing it with your finger a number of times, something that seemed to amuse him.

Whenever you woke up, you were annoyed that you had been torn out of this perfect little dream world. The dream world where you were fucked six ways from Sunday. You were so thirsty for this young man that you had created that he was in your nighttime fantasies pretty much every single night now. In your dreams he left you so satisfied that you had no idea why you ever wanted to leave. If only you could stay asleep and feel this bliss forever. What would make them even more amazing was if the fantasies were better. You always swore that you were one dream away from having him come round to your house so he could have a closer look at your plumbing.

“What are you thinking about?”

Rolling over on your side, you looked at the man next to you in the bed. Despite the fact that you had been dreaming about him almost every single night for the past two weeks, you had never actually heard him talk. You’d heard him moan and groan several times, but to hear his lips form actual sentences was a new thing.

“Nothing,” you replied with a smile.

“I can read your thoughts, you know.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, I never told you?” He grinned at you and ran his fingers up and down your bare arm. “Maybe I could have told you if you’d wanted to talk, but you only want me for my body.”

“What? I don’t… I never…” You were flustered and looking for words after being so brutally called out. “It was never like…”

“It’s okay,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t mind. It’s what I do.” Since he saw the obvious confusion on your face, he continued. “I’ve been feeding off you this entire time.”

“Feeding off me? But I never feed you anything.”

“Your orgasms.” A frown creased your brow and he started laughing again before leaning in and pressing his lips against your forehead. “It’s what I need to sustain myself. I can eat other food as well, but it never quite fills me up the way orgasms do.”

“So the reason that you made me come multiple times is…”

“Because it fills me. Not my belly, mind you, but on a deeper level.” He cupped your chin and brushed the tip of his nose against yours. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I suppose a thank you is in order.” His hand slipped down, gently gripping your neck, applying just the slightest bit of pressure, before moving down to it’s destination and plucking at your nipple almost idly. He was gearing you up for another round and you found that you couldn’t actually remember how many times he had made you come already. “Can I thank you with this body that you can’t get enough of?”

“Wait.”

“So now you want to talk?” He continued his ministrations on your chest as if you hadn’t been talking at all. You caught the playful smirk on his lips before he leaned in and started sucking marks on your neck. “What do you want to know?”

“You say you feed off me, but doesn't that mean that you want to eat me?”

“And why would I want to do that? I like to use my mouth for other things,” he said with a low chuckle. You hissed through your teeth when he sank his teeth into your skin suddenly and then licked the spot where he had bitten you. “Would be a waste to eat you anyway.”

“So the reason that you’re able to…”

He pulled away so he could look you in the eye. He grinned as he pushed his hand against your shoulder and he got on top of you as soon as you were laying on your back. “Are you getting shy on me now? After everything that we’ve done?” He nudged your legs apart and you could feel his erection pressing into your thigh. “But yes, that’s why my erections last so long. The aim of the game is not to come myself, but to make sure that you do.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“I beat myself off when you wake up. It’s not like I can’t climax myself, but I can make sure that I stay hard for as long as I need to.” You could feel his tip pressing against your entrance, ready to slide in at any second. “It’s a dream. Anything can happen in a dream.”

“Anything?”

“Sure. Wanna see?”

You didn’t know what he had planned, but you nodded anyway. His eyes lit up, his irises practically glowing green right now, and he started grinning, eager to show you what else he could do. He snapped his fingers and all of a sudden you were sitting on a red velvet sofa in what appeared to be some kind of high end bar. Your legs were wide open with him on his knees in front of you, his lips already on the inside of your knee and slowly working his way up.

“So you can change locations?”

“Honey, I can change everything.” You felt his teeth on the inside of your thigh, nipping at your skin playfully, mere inches away from the top of your legs. “Is the setting not to your liking?”

“How did you even come up with this place?”

“Experience?” He briefly looked up at you and shrugged. “I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Not telling.” He stuck his tongue out at you and then dipped his head down to lick a stripe from your entrance up to your clit. “I can never get enough of how you taste.” He moaned against your core. He spent most of his time with his face between your legs in your dreams. With what he’d revealed earlier, about how he fed on your orgasms, maybe that was the place where he could taste it the best? “Not really.” You moaned loudly when he spoke, because his voice was adding vibrations to what he was doing. You’d entirely forgotten that he had mentioned that he was able to hear your thoughts. “You just taste real good.”

A single finger slid inside of you, your walls instantly clenching around him, trying to pull him in deeper. When he adds another, you start whimpering and you know that you’re going to come soon. If you could, you’d have him in this position all the time. There had never been anyone in your life who had been this good at eating you out and who was so clearly enjoying himself as well. Your last boyfriend had been a disaster on that front, more often than not he would skip foreplay entirely, but he’d still expect you to suck his dick whenever he felt like it. Figures that you’d only be able to find an enthusiastic lover in your dreams.

Guys like that simply didn’t exist in real life.

You reach down to thread your fingers through his hair. The gesture makes him suck at your clit harder and thrust his fingers in deeper than before. He was practically devouring you at this point, lapping up your juices and making sounds that told you that he hadn’t been lying when he told you that he liked how you tasted. It was almost as if he didn’t want to waste a single drop. You keened out a noise as another orgasm positively engulfed you. You’d push him away and close your thighs if you could, but he had wrapped his arms around your thighs and was using all his strength to keep them wide open. Your muscles were tight as a bowstring, your back arched and pushed you up into a position that would start to hurt if you stayed in it for too long. He was relentless though, ignoring your discomfort and continuing his assault until he had managed to pull yet another climax out of your shuddering body.

When he finally released you, you collapsed onto the sofa, your entire body sticky with sweat. You blinked a few times to stop yourself from seeing stars and when you heard him chuckle, you swatted your hand in his general direction without actually hitting him. It took you a couple of minutes, but you eventually managed to sit upright again when your lungs stopped burning. He was still on his knees in front of you with an incredibly smug impression plastered all over his face. You nudged your foot against his shoulder and he fell backwards dramatically. Your face twisted when you felt the velvet against your sweaty body. It had felt pleasant on your bare skin before, but not anymore.

“I can do something about that,” he said cheerily and snapped his fingers again. When he saw the look on your face when you noticed where you were, he couldn’t hide his amusement. “No good?”

“This is terrible,” you replied with a wide grin. “I mean. Honestly.”

The flashing light underneath you made you laugh. He’d pulled this one from your bad sex fantasies again. A piece of paper slid into the tray on the side. He picked it up, looked at it with a frown before turning the piece of paper over so you could see it.

“I think there’s something wrong with this printer.” He shook his head and pressed a few buttons underneath your leg. “It really needs fixing.”

“Think you can fix it?”

“I can try.” He pushed his hands underneath your ass just as the light flashed again and a few seconds later he showed you the black and white printout of your behind with his fingers shoved in between you and the glass that you were sitting on. “That’s beautiful. Think I might have to frame that.”

“You’re such a weirdo.”

“I think that it’s funny.” He pressed his lips on yours hungrily and you could still taste yourself on his tongue. “I got this from your mind, remember? I really think we might have to work on the state of your fantasies though. They really could be a lot more inventive.”

“Maybe I’m just not very original.”

“You’re just not giving yourself enough credit, sweetheart.”

“Maybe.” You nipped at his lower lip and then pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose which was probably a little too gentle considering all the other stuff that you’d gotten up that night, but you hardly cared anymore. “You can probably come up with something a lot better.”

“I can try, but you’re probably going to be disappointed.”

One snap of his fingers and suddenly you were in the dark. You could also tell that you were alone. The other two times, you could always feel him around you, but not this time. You hugged your arms around your torso, feeling cold for no reason at all. All of a sudden a couple of lights switched on, bathing the room in red light, and you realised that you were standing on a stage. When you glanced at the side, you could see a pole right next to you. You instinctively reached out for it, feeling the cool metal against your palm and you held it as you walked in a circle around it. There were full length mirrors all around you and you briefly looked at your reflection.

The outfit that you wore left little to the imagination which was probably the point when you took the location into account. You were wearing a red triangle bikini top and a black pair of shorts that half your ass was hanging out of. The shoes, the infamous stripper heels naturally, had plastic, see-through straps and the platform heels had a iridescent sparkle to it.

When you had done a turn, your eyes scanned the place and you could see him sitting on a chair right next to the stage, looking up at you expectantly. He obviously wanted a show so why not give him one? Holding onto the pole, you slid down until you were on your knees and then you started skimming your hands up and down your chest. He was completely enraptured and kept reaching down to readjust himself in his trousers. Given how he usually remained rockhard throughout these dreams, the skinny jeans that he was wearing right now were probably incredibly uncomfortable.

You crawled over to where he was sitting. When you had reached the edge, you reached out to grab him by his shirt and pulled him up out of his seat. His eyes widened for a second or two before he composed himself again. He couldn’t resist leaning in when your face came closer to his, but you merely ghosted your lips over his before pushing him back into his chair.

“No touching the stripper,” you chided and then wagged a finger at him. “Or I’ll ask security to kick you out.”

“But you’re allowed to touch me?”

“Are you trying to tell me you’d have me kicked out?”

“No way.” He leaned back in his chair, arm hanging over the back and he started sipping at a cocktail that suddenly materialised in his hand. “Keep going.”

The only problem there was that you had no clue what strippers even did. Sure you’d seen a video, but those women were a lot more athletic than you were. You’d also seen Showgirls once, but that movie probably wasn’t the best example about what to do. The only thing that you had learned from that movie was how not to have sex in a pool and that licking a stripper pole wasn’t particularly sexy, just incredibly unhygienic. You swung your legs over the edge of the stage and put your feet on the arm rests of his chair, practically daring him to touch you. Having caught your intent, he didn’t move and then he had the audacity to feign indifference.

Sliding off the stage, you climbed onto his lap instead and started gyrating your hips against his. You reached up to grab a handful of his hair, pulled his head back and dragged your lips down the column of his throat. When he grabbed your ass, you slapped his cheek with your free hand.

“No touching,” you whispered in his ear. “I’m not telling you again.”

“Damn, baby.” He sounded impressed by how well you were taking control of this new situation. “That is such a fucking turn-on.” You pulled on his hair harder and since your mouth was still close to his ear, you took his earlobe between your teeth and gave it a gentle tug. “Holy shit. You’re a fucking natural.”

“Oh yeah?”

You leaned back so you could look him in the eye. His eyes sparkled with obvious excitement and a deeper, more animalistic need. Like he could grab you at any moment, throw you onto the stage and fuck you right there if you pushed him too far. Very tempting. Reaching to the back of your neck, you pulled at the bow that held the strings of the halterneck together and when it was loosened, they fell down your shoulders. You pushed the cups down until they hung loosely around your chest. The only thing that was keeping the top on was the string that tied together around your back.

His eyes flitted down to your chest and then back up to your face again. You wanted him to touch you, but after telling him off a few times, you weren’t sure if he was going to. So you placed your hand on the back of his head and pressed him against your chest instead. You felt him smile against your skin and then his lips started moving, shifting in the direction of your nipple.

A shiver ran down your spine and you looked up suddenly. You had the odd feeling that there was another set of eyes on you, but that was impossible since the two of you were the only people here. Looking up at the bar, you saw a young man who was leaning against the bar and watching the two of you intently. He was smartly dressed in a dark blue suit, his long hair loose and hanging down over his shoulders. Even in this odd red light, you could tell that his skin was too pale, so white that it was almost translucent and when he grinned at you, you could see that his canines were too long, too pointy. Without realising it yourself, you had frozen entirely and the young man underneath you had sensed it, looking up at you in confusion before following your eyes.

“What the fuck, man!” He suddenly shouted at the other guy, anger flashing behind his eyes. “The hell are you doing here? Fuck off!” The man at the bar shrugged and disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was that?”

“My brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, he’s a dick,” he said with a deep sigh. “Our mother would keep tabs on us when we were kids to make sure that we didn’t get into any trouble. You have any idea how weird it is when your mother enters the dreams where you’re trying to get off with a girl? Fucking embarrasing.” He raised his eyebrows at you when he noticed that you were trying to suppress a laugh and pinched your side. “I don’t know how the fuck it works, but my mother taught the little shit how to do it as well and so he just… I dunno… shows up sometimes like the little creep that he is.”

“Does that mean that he’ll come back?”

“No. He just likes to remind me that he can do it from time to time.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his head against your chest. “But fuck that. I don’t want to talk about my asshole brothers.”

“Brothers?”

“Ah shit. No. Not talking about them.” He pulled at the string on your back, pulled the bikini top from your body and threw it on the stage. “So this particular fantasy is ruined now. Let's start again, shall we?”

“Can’t we salvage it?”

“I’ve got something better.” The look on his face told you that this had the potential to be really good. “Do you trust me?”

“How bad is this going to be?” He tilted his head to the side, that wasn’t the answer that he had wanted to hear. “Yes.”

“I don’t do this a lot so bear with me alright?”

Another snap of the fingers and the strip bar starts to fade away. You were sitting on a bed now and you were wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked old. The new location was just as red (he really did seem to like that colour), but it didn’t look that special to you. In fact, it looked like a fairly cheap love motel, one where lovers would retreat to so they could enjoy each other's company for about an hour before going their separate ways again.

You got up from the bed and walked over to a table by the window to look at what was set out on it. There was a big bowl of strawberries and a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne right next to it. He’d really pulled out all the stops, even in a dream. You were giggling to yourself when the door to the bathroom opened and someone appeared in the doorway. It took you a short moment before you realised who it was, but when it all clicked into place your mouth fell open.

Because leaning against the doorframe was a woman. Her dirty blonde hair was loose and still slightly wet, hinting at the fact that she’d been taking a shower moments earlier. She was wearing a silk bathrobe that was tied together by the waist with a big bow and you could see her hard nipples quite clearly through the thin material. The smirk was damn near unmistakable however. When she approached you, you instantly got the impression that you were her prey, there was just something very predatory in the way that she moved. She came to a standstill right in front of you and her mischievous eyes flashed bright green briefly.

“Feed me,” she said with a grin. You took one of the strawberries from the bowl and when you presented it to her, she held her mouth wide open, ready to be fed. You felt her tongue swipe over your fingers when you fed it to her and then she let out a single moan when she started chewing. A few seconds later you felt a finger against your chin so she could push your mouth shut. “Surprised?”

“Very.” You looked her up and down. The bathrobe barely covered the tops of her thighs and she reached down to play with the hemline, to make sure that your eyes stayed focused on her legs. “I didn’t know you could turn into a woman.”

“It’s a dream,” she stated simply. “Anything’s possible.” She leaned in to you and you closed your eyes, anticipating a kiss, but then her lips brushed against the shell of your ear as she talked. “I don’t do this a lot though. So consider yourself special.”

“All this to make up for your brother interfering?”

“Guess you could say that.” She took your hands and started pulling you along to the bed. When you reached it you thought that she was finally going to kiss you, but then she spun you round and made you sit on the bed instead. She pulled on the bow that held the bathrobe together and brushed it open, revealing herself to you slowly, like one might unveil a priceless painting. “Like what you see?”

Your throat had gone dry and you found that you had lost the ability to form words. He was beautiful when he was a man, but now that he was a woman, his toned torso had given way to soft curves and skin that looked so smooth that you wanted to do nothing else but reach out and touch it. She took a step closer and stood in between your open legs, a sweet smile on her lips as she looked down at you.

“You’re not talking.” There was a slight teasing tone to her voice as she spoke. “That bad?”

“No.” She took your hand and moved it up until it was covering her bare breast. You gave a quick experimental squeeze. “Just surprised. Takes some getting used to.” Your other hand moved up of its own accord so you could cup her other breast as well. “I mean, I’ve never been with another woman before.”

“You can. If you want to.”

While you had only ever been with men, the thought of being with a woman wasn’t something that you weren’t entirely opposed to. Especially not with someone as beautiful and seductive as this. She shrugged out of the robe and dropped it to the floor. The tattoo that was usually on his left arm had changed into something more delicate and feminine, pink cherry blossoms with green leaves and branches in between them that curled up her arm and covered part of her clavicle. You moved your hand up and started tracing them with your fingers, gently caressing her skin, her green eyes following your every move.

When you heard a soft giggle, you looked back at her face and before you could say anything, she’d pushed you back onto the mattress. She was on top of you a split second later and then you finally felt her soft lips on yours. You could still taste the sweet strawberry on her lips and on her tongue when she slipped it into your mouth. Your hands ran down her back, following her spine and then settling on her ass. Whenever you squeezed, she ground her hips down against yours and you were suddenly overcome with the urge to see her on her back with her hair fanned out over the red sheets.

Grabbing her hips, you flipped her over and since she’d just read your thoughts, she reached up and made sure her hair was spread out just the way that you had just imagined it. She started pushing your shirt up and you almost ripped it off in your eagerness to get naked for her, even if she’d seen you like that many times before. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and shoved her hand into your sweatpants roughly. Her fingers started rubbing at your sex, finding you very wet and very willing.

Pulling her hand out, you leaned back and pushed your pants down, kicking your legs to get them off entirely without moving too far away from her. When you were completely naked, her hand settled back at the top of your legs, her movements more hurried and urgent now. With your hands on her breasts, you started licking and nipping at her neck, moaning against her skin when one of her fingers started circling your clit.

“I want to make you come,” you groaned into her ear. “Never made you… fuck… come before.”

“But you give me so many other things,” she purred back. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You skimmed one hand down her stomach and slipped your hand between her legs. “Jesus Christ. You’re so wet.” You were rewarded with a moan when you tried touching her the way you liked to be touched. It was almost as if you were moving on autopilot, like you instinctively knew what to do. “Please.”

She didn’t reply so instead you pulled your hand away from her, making her let out a displeased whine, and you pulled your face away from her neck so she could watch you suck your fingers into your mouth. You twirled your tongue around your fingers, making sure that she could see exactly what you were doing and then moved your hand down again. You pressed them up against her entrance first, teasing her with the slightest bit of pressure and then slipped them inside. She started tilting her hips up against your hand and the way that her face contorted in pleasure really was something that would be etched into your mind forever.

“Can I?” You repeated the question since you still hadn’t gotten an answer. “I really want to.” Pressing your lips down on hers again in a searing kiss, you murmured against her lips. “Please say yes.” You pressed your fingers in as deep as they could go, all the way down to the third knuckle. Since he had seemed to like it quite a bit when you did it earlier, you tangled your fingers in her long hair and gave a forceful tug. She gasped into your mouth and you knew that you had her. “I’ll just keep doing this until you say yes.”

“Fuck.” She shifted underneath you and you reluctantly pulled your lips away from hers. “I love it when you do that.”

“I know.” A triumphant grin formed on your lips and she was so obviously into it that it was hard to drop this act. Dipping your head down, you bit her neck suddenly and she squealed with obvious delight. You decided to thrust your fingers into her harder and she was so wet now that you could hear your digits moving in and out of her. “I want to make you come so bad.”

“You’re pretty good at this,” she moaned breathlessly. “Want to take this a little bit further?”

“How?”

“I’ll give you what you want, but not like this.” She wrapped a hand around your wrist and gently pulled your hand away. She then brought your hand up to her lips and started licking her own juices off your fingers with such fervour that she could have been mistaken for a starving animal. Seeing that was so arousing that you couldn’t stop a moan from escaping from your lips. “I want you to do something else.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Check the drawers.”

You scrambled off of her, probably a little bit too fast, in your eagerness to see what was in there. You were expecting a vibrator, a buttplug even, but you must have pulled a particularly funny face when you saw what was in the drawer instead because she started laughing as soon as she saw your expression. You hooked your fingers in one of the straps and lifted it up, probably looking very much afraid to even touch it. Your eyes were wide as it hung from your fingers and you turned back to fully face her.

“You want me to wear...” You gestured at it with your free hand. “...this?”

“Well, yes, sweetheart.” She got on all fours and crawled over to your side of the bed. “That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“Right.”

“You’re not sure.”

“It’s just… this is very much virgin territory for me.”

“You were doing fine just now.”

“That’s kinda different though, isn’t it?” You looked down at the strap-on that was still dangling from your fingers and she started poking at it playfully. It looked so silly that you couldn’t help but laugh. Truth be told, you were kind of curious about this kind of thing. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.” She pushed herself up on her knees and hooked her arms around your neck, pressing her entire body flush against you. “So. What do you say?”

“This is definitely one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had.”

“Yes or no.” She started kissing you, nice and slow, and then sucked your bottom lip into her mouth. Your hands snaked down her back and when she nipped at your lip, you gave her ass a hard slap. “Baby!” She started giggling, her fingernails digging into your shoulder blades when you grabbed her ass and squeezed her roughly. “I love it when you manhandle me.”

“That’s new for me as well.”

“I really am pushing your boundaries, ain’t I?” She pulled away suddenly and got on all fours again, turning her ass in your direction. She wiggled her hips and peered over her shoulder until you slapped her again. “Keep doing that and I’ll climax before you’ve shoved that thing inside of me.”

“Yeah right.” But you slapped her on the other cheek just for good measure. She pushed back until her ass was pressed against your hips and then she started moving backwards and forwards like you were already thrusting into her. “I need some help… with this thing…”

She faced you again in a flash, obviously excited by your willingness to do this. The harness was on you fairly quickly all things considered and then she lowered herself, gave you a quick wink and started sucking the large dildo into her mouth. So that’s what it looked like from that angle. You stroked her hair in very much the same manner like your previous partners had always done with you whenever you went down on them. Come to think of it, you suddenly realised that you had never actually had his cock in your mouth. That probably wasn’t all that weird considering this no climaxing thing that he appeared to have going on, but whenever you’d even attempted to kiss your way down his chest, he always stopped you.

You felt her tap her fingers against your hip and then she released the dildo with a pop. “You’re overthinking this. This isn’t about me. Never was.” Sitting up on her knees again, she stroked the side of your face almost lovingly and you eased into her touch for a few seconds. “Like I said earlier, the aim is to make you come.” She flashed you a big, predatory smile and then continued, “Speaking of. You do this right and afterwards I’ll push myself into you balls deep and fuck you until your fucking alarm goes off. How’s that for a tradeoff?”

“The way that you usually are?”

“Depends on what you want.” Her hand settled on your chest and she twisted one of your nipples between her fingers. “If you want me to wear that strap-on afterwards, I can do that. No problem.”

“You’ll probably be able to tell exactly what I want when I’m done with you.”

“You bet your ass, baby.” She winked at you and then a bottle of lube magically appeared in her hand. “I know that this is a dream, but I still need to use this.”

“Do you have any idea how weird it is when you do that?” She looked at you with her perfect eyebrows raised as she squeezed some liquid into her hand, applied it liberally to the silicone shaft and then the tube disappeared again when she was done. “Magicking things up out of thin air.”

“That’s what you think is weird about all this?” She rubbed her hands between her legs, applying some more lube on her pussy and started pushing her hips up against her hands. “I can change everything about this dream, even my gender, but when I make stuff appear in my hand that’s taking it one step too far?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” She turned her back on you and pressed her ass against the sex toy. “Now get it over with and fuck me already.”

“That really wasn’t necessary.” You grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled hard and twisted her head back. She laughed breathlessly and pushed her hips back again. “I’m just going to have to fuck this attitude out of you.”

“Fuck yes! Teach me a lesson.” She was practically purring the words at you. When you pushed her forward roughly, she loudly voiced her delight. You pressed one hand firmly between her shoulder blades, making sure that her face stayed down. Grabbing her hips, you made her raise her ass in the air and then positioned yourself in front of her entrance. “I’ve been such a bad girl.” With one thrust of your hips, you slipped inside of her and she let out a long stretched out moan as you watched the dildo disappear inside of her. “You’re so fucking big.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that sudden admission. For some reason she was playing the part that loads of women seemed to play in porn movies and when you started pumping in and out of her, she wouldn’t stop moaning about how good it felt and how well you were fucking her. This really was something else and whenever you glanced down at how her ass rippled whenever your hips connected with her, you couldn’t help but be completely fascinated with how it looked, practically unable to tear your eyes away from her.

Her noises started increasing and you kept slapping her already reddening ass in between thrusts. Pulling out almost entirely, you pushed back in so hard that her moans were starting to sound muffled. Never once pausing what you were doing on her, you slid one hand down over her hip so you could touch her clit. You ran the other one up her spine, tightened your fingers in her hair and yanked her up, pulling her against your chest.

“I wanna hear you,” you groaned in her ear and she started whimpering instantly. “You gonna come for me now?”

“Almost,” she mewled back. “I’m so close.” You speeded up the motions against her clit and she let out a loud cry, reaching back with one hand to wrap it around the back of your head. You were barely able to move your hips at this odd angle, but she didn’t seem to care from the way that she was bucking up against your hand and panting. When she started whimpering and rubbing her back against your chest, you could feel the muscles in her thighs constricting against your hand. “Fuck.”

A grunt of pleasure was torn from her throat and she arched her back, all her muscles going rigid all at once when her orgasm tore through her. You kept her pulled against you, absolutely delighted that you appeared to have done this right despite being slightly weirded out about it at first. When you released her, she dropped down onto the bed, completely out of breath. You lay down on your side next to her and studied her face closely. Her eyes were squeezed shut and you ran your fingers up and down her jaw as she caught her breath.

“Gimme a sec…”

You saw her swallow hard, her throat no doubt having gone dry. You got up off the bed and giggled when you looked down. Seeing that huge silicone dildo swaying about with every step that you took really looked hilarious. When you reached the table, you were ready to struggle with attempting to open the champagne before noticing that she’d already taken care of that. There were two glasses filled with the sparkly liquid standing right next to it.

When you turned back around, you saw that she was gone and that he was now laying on the bed in her place. You briefly frowned, sad that you hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye before realising that they were one and the same person. You heard him laughing from the bed when you walked back with the glass in your hands.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are.” You sat down next to him and waited until he’d pushed himself up into a sitting position before handing him the glass. He emptied the glass in one big sip. “Wanting to say goodbye.”

“I just forgot. Until earlier I thought that you were nothing but a figment of my imagination.”

“Oh no.” He threw the glass across the room and it bounced off the wall before rolling onto the floor. He looked down at your lap and flicked his fingers against the strap-on. “I’m very real.”

“Can you help me get this thing off?”

“Or you could keep it on.” He flashed you a quick and very dirty smile. “I’d let you peg me.”

You almost choked when you tried to imagine what that would look like and blurted out a quick, “One thing at a time please.”

“Spoilsport.” He tapped a finger on the harness and then it was gone. “You’d be pretty good at it, you know. Pull my hair a couple of times and I’m yours to do with as you please.” Before you could reply to that, he put an arm around your waist and pulled you back onto the bed. Moving you onto your back, he knocked all the air out of your lungs when he suddenly got on top of you and pinned your hands up above your head. “But I promised to do something else anyway. So I win anyway.”

He kept true to his word and fucked you with such ferocity afterwards that when you finally woke up the following morning, it was a damn miracle that you were even able to walk at all. And all that just because of a dream. In the many more dreams that followed afterwards, the woman made an appearance on more than one occasion. On some nights you would just get her and other times he would turn into her while he had his mouth on your pussy. You were never entirely sure about how the entire thing even worked. He wasn’t merely something that your horny mind had come up with one night. No, he was indeed very real.

A couple of months into this very odd arrangement, where he would satisfy your every desire while you were asleep, you were at the beach with your friends. They were convinced that you were seeing someone even if you always said that you weren’t. Maybe this little weekend getaway was a ploy to get more information out of you, but how could you possibly tell them that you’d met someone in your dreams? You’d sound like a bloody lunatic.

When the four of you were looking for a spot to spread out your beach towels, you passed two guys. One was sitting underneath a parasol, dressed in a black t-shirt and black shorts, making sure that no part of him even got out of the shade that was provided by the large umbrella over his head. He was scowling at another young man with long blonde wavy hair who was sitting next to him, strumming a blue ukulele.

Your small group settled down a couple of feet away from them and stripped down to the bathing suits that you wore underneath your clothes. You were wearing a red triangle bikini, somehow now also favouring the colour since your dreams were constantly bathed in it. Your friends headed down towards the water while you sat down on your towel and started reading the romance novel that you’d brought with you.

After a couple of minutes, you realised that you had completely stopped paying attention to what you were reading but were instead focusing entirely on the young man a couple of feet behind you who had started singing. You instantly recognised the song that he was singing. It was the song that the sirens sang to Odysseus in the Odyssey. You were so hypnotised by the song, that you’d completely forgotten about your surroundings. It wasn’t until something slammed into your upper arm that the spell was broken. Your head whipped to the side and you saw a frisbee laying next to you in the sand.

“My bad!” A voice called out to you and you picked the piece of plastic up to hold it out to whoever was approaching you. “I am so sorry! I should have caught that.”

“No problem. Not like I’m…” As soon as you looked up the words died in your throat and you instead stared at the young man who was now standing next to you with wide eyes. “Wait…”

“Well, this is a surprise.” He dropped down onto his knees next to you in the sand, a huge smile plastered all over his face, and he took the frisbee from your hands. “Definitely wasn’t expecting this.” For some reason, you reached out and poked a finger against his chest. You half expected that your mind was playing some kind of trick on you, as if your finger was going to pass right through him, but it didn’t. “See? Real.”

“Serk!” Another voice called out and he tore his eyes away from yours to look at whoever it was that had called his name. “Stop hitting on girls and toss the frisbee back!”

“I’m done playing!” He threw the frisbee back which the other guy effortlessly caught. “Tell Sigurd to play with you before he drowns someone with his singing.”

“Fine! But you owe me.” He winked at you and turned around to join the other two guys that you had passed when you had just arrived. Your eyes were drawn to his back or to be more specific to the long braid that swung back and forth as he walked away.

“Stop checking out my brother.” You blinked and turned your attention back on him. “You want me to introduce you? I mean, if you’d rather want to spend time with him than me…”

“What? No!” He chuckled when your words came out louder than you intended. “Not funny.” He ran a hand down your arm, mirroring the same thing that he’d often do in your dreams. “He called you Serk. Is that your name?”

“Short for Hvitserk.” He held out his hand to you. “And what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you replied when you took his hand in yours. He repeated your name with a warm smile. “I erm… this is weird…”

“Is it?” He let your hand go and got to his feet. You panicked slightly, thinking that he might leave, when he suddenly extended his hand to you. “Come on. I wanna buy you a drink.”

“And then what?”

“I dunno,” he said with a shrug when he pulled you up off the ground. “Sit with me. Talk. I know you, but that’s the dream you and now I want to know the real you. That okay?”

“Sure.” He started pulling you along to the beach bars a short distance away. “I’d like that.”

*****

And this moodboard is based on when I described female Hvitserk coming out of the bathroom.

#vikings #vikings au #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk ragnarsson #incubus hvitserk #hvitserk x you #smutty smut smut #mar writes #mar moodboards

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yuujism · 4 years ago

Text

Sun and Night. (gojo satoru x reader)

Chapter 1: Hate

chapter 2 →

| PAIRINGS: gojo satoru x reader x getou suguru

| WARNINGS: ⚠️ SPOILERS FOR HIDDEN INVENTORY ARC AND VOL. 0 IN THE MANGA ⚠️ explicit language, nsfw (next chapter will have tags), plot, too much writing, kinda modified so it can fit the story but nothing out of canon, grammar errors

| WORD COUNT: idk lol i’ll count it later

| A/N: so uhhh, i’m back i guess ??? this came to me after re reading the manga and kinda yearned for some angst between gojo and reader because they both loved suguru so much 😽 and i love suguru a lot too and i miss him dearly anyway !! please check the post before this one to know what will go on with my other series !! right now i’m taking my time to write :( anyway hope you enjoy!! i hope it’s not kinda half asses though sorry ):

summary;

You and Satoru were in love.

You were both so deeply in love, just not with each other.

Where you and Satoru found comfort in each other after the accident happened.

Chapter 1: Hate.

You were in love.

To you, Getou Suguru was the bright moon in your dark sky.

Long and silky black hair, sly yet serious dark eyes and the soothing voice of reason, drowned your thoughts almost every day. He was really in every thought and dream you could have and you didn’t mind.

He always looked at you with a sweet smile adorning his features, raising his hand and waving it at you whenever you walked into the room. The sound of your name slipping through his lips made you realise you did like your name, but only when it came from him. The faint touch of his hand on your shoulder that sent shivers down your spine, face heating up reflexively as he leaned down to your ear to say some silly joke about Yaga.

Even to this day, you could still feel the ghost of his breathing in your neck.

Getou Suguru made you feel welcomed, and you loved him for that. You deeply loved him.

You knew you weren’t the only one who had their heart squeeze with adoration whenever Suguru came into view. He was just better at hiding it, an expert in sweeping his emotions under a rug and masking them with a cocky smile. But not for your observant eyes.

Gojo Satoru was also in love.

To Satoru, Getou Suguru was equal to him. The strongest sorcerers. He was also an annoyance.

Contrary ideals and constant bickering never failed to appear when these two were put together. They seemed so different: white and black; water and oil; the sun and the moon. Yet they always found themselves with each other.

Satoru hated the way Suguru could look through him so easily, calling him out on his bullshit whenever he was getting out of hand. Satoru didn’t mind as long as it was him and only him. The way they could almost read each other’s minds as if they were connected, only needing one look from the other to completely understand what were they thinking. The memory of Suguru still made Satoru’s stomach fill with butterflies, recalling the first time he saw his best friend through the eyes of a person in love.

Getou Suguru made Satoru feel everything he didn’t want to feel, and he became his one and only since the beginning.

You were both in love with Getou Suguru, but never admitted it. Not to him, not to each other, not to anybody. Everyone was oblivious to the way you indirectly fought against Satoru over the black haired sorcerer’s attention.

But then, it all came to an abrupt stop and everything shattered into a million pieces. It came as quickly as an unexpected projectile to both of your stomach’s guts.

“Getou Suguru is now to be executed on sight as a curse user.”

And you tried your best to stop the tears from coming and forget. Forget his sweet smile, his soothing voice, his touch and everything he made you feel. And Satoru did too. Because Getou Suguru was now a criminal. A murderer.

You wished it was all just a bad dream, that the charges against Suguru were just a complex plan from another terrorist group. Hope was something that you didn’t believe in and right now it looked like the sweetest of options. Ignorance is bliss after all.

Until Satoru came one day after an apparent encounter with Suguru thanks to Shoko’s aid. It was all true. You still remember the tremble in Satoru’s voice confirming every single event that was described in the announcement. His parents, the village, the hatred against humans. It was all real and, sadly, everything was clear now.

Getou Suguru was no longer the one you both knew and loved.

You also remember the discussion you had with Satoru after everyone left the room, asking him why he didn’t stop him, why he didn’t do anything to bring Suguru back to the school just like everyone expected him to.

“Would you have been able to do it?!” His yelling made you jolt before you looked at him with regret as his cold blue eyes showed his true and raw emotions for once.

And you knew. You knew that question had a deeper meaning than it appeared. And you also knew Satoru was well aware of your own feelings towards Suguru when his eyes looked through all the barriers you built to hide the pain you were in. To hide your love and broken heart. You could almost see his own dispair deep within himself. It was just too much and you couldn’t help but look down at your own feet through your tears.

Turns out you weren’t the only one with observant eyes.

“No.”

After that day, you and Satoru never exchanged words that weren’t about the students or the missions you were given through those months. You also never talked about the not-so-hidden feelings you both had towards the sorcerer that was once your friend and acquaintance.

It didn’t get better either but, somehow, it wasn’t worse than those days.

The memories of his smile still haunted you and your heart still felt as broken as that damned day. But at least you hadn’t heard of him for a long time. None of you had.

Satoru seemed to had forgotten completely. Or that was what he wanted to show. You knew he was as broken—or even more—than you were. How could he deem himself the strongest when he couldn’t save his one true friend and love after all. However, Satoru was sperfect at everything, even hiding the pain.

And everything did look better for you and Satoru in the path of forgetting Suguru. And, just like last time, destiny just couldn’t leave you alone.

Getou Suguru was back.

The way your body petrified under his gaze when he was finally in front of you after a long time was pathetic. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, mouth slightly parted in an attempt to call him out for the first time in what felt forever. Was it fear? Was it shock? You didn’t know.

What you did know is he was the same Suguru but different. His smile wasn’t sweet anymore and his hair was longer. But the way he said your name still made your heart flutter in adoration and yearning for him.

No. No, this can’t be.

No, no, no. Getou Suguru was a criminal. A curse user. You had to stop him. You had to do something, anything!

Move.

Flashes of Suguru’s touch came into your mind as he walked towards you, calmly and confident as you stood there, a trembling hand trying to make its way to fight. Suguru didn’t stop.

Move.

Satoru’s words during your discussion resonated in your mind over and over again. Are you able to stop him? To risk it all and kill him if needed? Your hand stopped.

Move!

But you couldn’t. Not when he placed his hand on your shoulder, thanking you for not putting up a fight. Not when he walked past you, his familiar scent filling your nostrils for a brief second. And certainly not when he spoke from behind you, telling you how much he’d missed you.

You almost felt like laughing. You were truly pathetic.

Pathetic for not forgetting him. For thinking that, maybe after all this time, you would’ve been able to stop Suguru if the chance presented in front of your eyes. Unlike Satoru who couldn’t do it.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You crumbled down to your knees, hands holding your aching head as tears filled your eyes and memories of Suguru came to your mind. You weren’t strong at all. You could hear the rumbling far from your spot now, announcing the start of a fight.

Time passed, slow or fast, you didn’t know. But the tingling sensation of Suguru’s touch on your shoulder lingered until everything was silent once again.

It wasn’t until Satoru was next to you, that you finally got out of your stance of shock, looking up at him and his bandage-covered face. His demeanour was different once again, even if you couldn’t see his eyes, you could sense something was off, something happened just like that day.

Satoru didn’t even make the effort to face you as you stood up, still slightly shaking for the past event. He couldn’t. He didn’t know how to break the news for you because, once again, he couldn’t save Suguru. And this time, forever. His heart felt heavier than ever, his hands clenched into fists as he tried his best not to show how he was also shaking.

God, how Satoru wished that everything was different.

When you finally came to his senses, Satoru finally faced you, a small smile appearing in his face. His mask, you thought. His mask was crumbling in front of your eyes and he still tried to hide it. How cynical. Your eye twitched with annoyance as you saw right through him.

“Let’s go! The higher ups are wa—“

“He’s dead.” You cut him off and Satoru’s smile dropped, staring at you.

It wasn’t a question nor did you hesitate when those words came out of your mouth. You didn’t need him to confirm your statement as he once again faced away and the sound of the wind filled your ears.

Satoru could almost hear the sound of both of your hearts breaking even more, this time, until dust was the only thing remaining.

You didn’t have any more tears to cry as you grew tired of Satoru’s silence, taking it as the answer you weren’t even expecting before walking in front of him towards your next destination, leaving him behind. You disliked him more than ever right now.

Satoru limited himself to stare at your figure getting further away, jaw clenching with anger. Anger directed at you and himself. How could you look right through him? Did you even care about Suguru’s death as much as he cared? Did you even love him as much as he loved him?

That day, Satoru decided he hated you.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen writing #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x geto suguru

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themaribatpit · 3 years ago

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Jasonette July Day 19: Mistakes

Written by: The Maribat Pit Prompt: Mistakes Rating: T

Soulmate AU - red string of fate around the ankles, references to other versions of the myth

A/N: This might become a mult-chap, we’re not entirely sure. Comment on this post if you want to see this story continue. There will be some Adrien/Chat Noir salt.

Marinette often heard stories about the ‘red string of fate’, the idea that there was a soulmate out there who was chosen just for her. No one believed her when she told them she could see a red thread looped around her ankle. No one really explained what it meant, they would just tell her that she would grow out of that silly superstition. She would look down at the floor, towards her ankle, where she could clearly see the red string tied around it. Maybe they couldn’t see it, but she could, clear as day. When she became Ladybug and fought alongside Chat Noir, he would go on and on about how they were soulmates and destined for each other. When she became Master Fu’s pupil, she asked him if he knew anything about it. “What brought this on?” he asked curiously. “I see this red string around my ankle, I’ve known about it ever since I was little. Everyone says it’s just a legend or a silly superstition.” she explained. “Around the ankle is a new one, but it’s also the oldest version of the legend,” Master Fu explained, “most prefer the version where it’s around the little finger, or a woman’s little finger and a man’s thumb.” “What does it mean?” she asked, “no one will tell me.” “It means the string will lead you to the person you are destined to be with,” he explained, “it may stretch and tangle, but it will never break.” For many years, she brushed aside other boys and their advances, much to the chagrin of anyone who knew the real reason why. Whenever Chat Noir rambled on about them being soulmates, she knew it wasn’t true. It was infuriating, really, as she would look down at the red string leading away from him. She would tell him that she was in love with someone else, because someone else was out there waiting for her. Not that he would listen to her, but still she always kept him at arm’s length. Some might say that her standards were too high, never mind that some boys just could not take “no” for an answer. She thought about using Kaalki to find her soulmate, opening a portal directly to them. The only problem was she only knew which direction the string was pointing, and not having a clear idea of where she was going could lead to complications. Marinette kept her head held high through Lila and Chloe bullying her, and the teachers doing very little to stop them. She didn’t hate Adrien as much as she did on that first day of school, but he had done very little to stop his childhood friend from bullying people. Marinette had been humiliated, insulted, and almost kicked out of school on multiple occasions. Chat Noir, on the other hand, was only in love with the idea of her. He had absolutely no clue who she was under the mask, and vice versa. There were times when Marinette felt like she couldn’t step one toe out of line without someone breathing down her neck about being the bigger person. She felt like she was the only one bearing the heavy burden of carrying the Ladybug mantle. She took being a heroine seriously, but she knew that she couldn’t do everything perfectly. Sometimes Chat Noir was more of a hindrance than a help, and this continued for many years. When days felt tough for Marinette, she only needed to look down at the string around her ankle and remind herself of what it meant. It meant that someone out there was waiting for her, destined to love her with all their heart and she would love them in turn. So Marinette kept her head down by day, and as Ladybug she would fight to bring an end to Hawk Moth’s reign of terror. Whoever her soulmate was, they would know the truth about her, they would love and accept her. Sometimes she would wonder if Master Fu had chosen wrong when he decided that she should be the next Guardian of the Miraculous. The red string on the other hand would stretch or tangle, but never break. She could be certain that her soulmate was one choice that couldn’t be a mistake. Most of Jason’s earliest living memories were spent in hiding. He would hide under the table with the family dog in his arms, while the adults around him argued. When he got older, he would scurry back to the crevices in Gotham’s streets, hiding from whoever he just stole from. All the time he’d worry they could see the glowing red thread wrapped around his ankle. He could never understand what it meant, he assumed everyone had one at the time. When his questions were met with mockery or indifference, he stopped sharing his curiosity about it. It would always be glowing in the corner of his eye, like a bright light on a summer’s day. One day he wandered into a bakery inside Gotham’s Chinatown. He was waiting for the shopkeeper to look away so that he could grab a pastry without them noticing. Their topic of conversation turned to a ‘red string of fate’ and Jason was intrigued. Supposedly, the thread around his ankle bound him to someone. That someone was the person he was destined to be with forever, his soulmate. He left the shop empty handed, hoping to try his luck finding food elsewhere. If his soulmate was out there, whoever they were, they were going to be sorely disappointed. He remembered thinking, whoever decided to pair him up with someone had made a terrible mistake. If his soulmate could see him now, they would probably think so too. When he encountered Batman that fateful night in Crime Alley, his whole world had drastically changed from that night forth. As Bruce Wayne took him under his wing and as he took on the Robin mantle, a secret part of him had hoped that he was becoming someone his soulmate could be proud of. Still he kept it to himself, Alfred would occasionally find him staring off into space whenever he was alone. If Jason asked Bruce about it, he would probably tell him that he needed to focus on other things. The glowing red string was the last thing he would see at night before letting sleep take him, this time, he wasn’t afraid. When she was 15, Marinette woke up one morning to find the string no longer glowed bright red. Instead it was grey and limp, and she was desperate to know what this meant. At the first opportunity, she ran to Master Fu, he was the only one she could confide in about this. He lowered his head, almost unwilling to tell Marinette what it meant for fear of how she would react. He told her solemnly, it meant that her soulmate had died… Elsewhere, a bomb was counting down the seconds until it could go off. Jason had been battered, bruised and broken, but as long as his heart was still beating he still had a chance. Ten… He pushed against the locked door. That damned clown had locked him in, probably for the sheer delight of it. Nine… He had only just noticed the bomb, he had to find a way out of the building and fast. Bruce, Alfred, Barbara, Dick and...he looked down at his ankle, his soulmate...they were all waiting for him. Eight… This was all a mistake, he had been led into a trap. He hoped that Batman would arrive just in time to save him. He would probably slap him upside the head after he had recovered, and lecture him about being far too reckless, but at least he’d be alive. Seven… Strength was leaving his body, most of which was probably beaten out of him moments earlier. The fighting spirit that always burned like a raging inferno inside of him was dimming. Six… In those last few seconds, all he had left in him was a silent apology. Wherever his soulmate was, he wished them nothing but happiness. He was sorry that he couldn’t meet them for the first time. He wanted to tell them that the mere idea of them gave him hope. Hope that quite literally hung by a very thin thread, but it was what kept him going all these years. It kept him going through living on the street, through pushing himself to meet Bruce’s expectations, even through the ordeal he had just endured. All he needed to do was look down and remind himself that whoever chose him to be someone’s soulmate hadn’t made a mistake. The reason he wouldn’t get to meet them was because of his mistake. Five...four...three..two...one. Marinette didn’t know how to mourn someone she had never seen, met, or even spoken to. All she knew was that for the next three years, the string around her ankle was limp and grey. The legend said that it would tangle, it would stretch, but it would never break. Sometimes she would lay awake at night and wonder what could have possibly happened to her soulmate. Had they even noticed the red string around their ankle? Did they even care about what it meant? How did they die? Was it an accident or did someone kill them? These were questions that kept Marinette up at night as she gazed up at her bedroom ceiling. She didn’t notice that the string was slowly starting to regain it’s glow, though it remained very dim. She barely paid any attention to it anymore, and thought the faint red glow was just a trick of the eye. It was a cruel reminder of what that thread meant and what she looked forward to. By the time she was 18, Marinette decided she needed to get out of Paris. She wanted to be a designer, but she also thought a change of scenery would be good for her. She kept the Miracle Box with her when she moved to Gotham City, to keep the rest of the Miraculous from falling into the wrong hands. Around this time, the thread around her ankle began to glow bright red, just as it had done a few years ago. She was honestly curious to follow the thread and see where it led, but Plagg and Tikki were unsure about it. They could sense that something was amiss with the thread reignighting, and they had a bad feeling that the forces of creation and destruction were involved. That’s how Marinette found herself pacing around her dorm room, trying to think of an explanation. “How can you tell?” she asked them, “Maybe whoever did this chose someone else to be my soulmate? Someone who wasn’t dead.” “That’s not really how this works, Marinette.” Tikki told her. “Well, not according to Master Fu anyway,” said Plagg, “if the string is turning red again, that means whoever it is was brought back to life.” “But that’s impossible...is it?” Marinette looked at them, not that long ago she had fought a man who wanted to use them to bring his comatose wife back. Was it really so impossible? “Long ago, we were forced to grant such a wish.” Plagg confessed. “Plagg!” Tikki hissed, “you’re not suggesting that maybe…” “I am,” Plagg told her, “and she needs to know if she’s going to go herring off looking for someone who might be dead.” Plagg turned his attention back to Marinette, “long ago, someone did acquire the Miraculous and they did use it to grant one wish…to make them young and strong forever.” “How did they do it?” Marinette asked, a little afraid of their answer. “We created what humans call ‘The Lazarus Pits’. Anyone who bathed in its waters would be healed, rejuvenated, even snatched from the jaws of death.” he explained “Tikki’s healing magic is infused in the waters, that’s the healing part.” Marinette looked over at Tikki, “So what’s the catch? It can’t be that easy, can it?” “Well, the more they bathe in them, the more it destroys their mind,” she explains before giving Plagg a pointed look. “It heals them on the outside, while their mind is slowly destroyed.” Marinette is slightly horrified by the thought. “Can it bring someone back to life?” She asked, they exchanged worried glances. “Yes, but...Marinette, the person they were could have easily eroded away.” Tikki explained, but Marinette was growing tired of imagining and daydreaming. She had to see for herself the person that her soulmate had become, so that’s how Ladybug set off to see where the red string led.

#jasonettejuly2021 #jasonette #adrien salt #maribat #maribat adrien salt #ml x dc

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hawkinsindiana · 4 years ago

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this changes things

ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER FOUR OF ELEVEN (!!)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 2.3k

a/n: we’re back to eleven chapters baby!!!! this one ended up being longer than i thought. i know i usually post on friday nights, but i couldn’t help but give you all a lil valentine’s day treat. pls enjoy!!!!

masterlist

Steve’s nervous.

It’s down to the wire; there's only a few short weeks left of his final high school semester. Four out of five college applications have been rejected. Each one received has fed the anxiety more and more.

Every day that passes without a lick of news from the remaining university has him reconsidering everything. His education. His career. His future.

The only thing Steve knows about his future is that he wants you in it, in whichever form that might be. You’re the constant. Without you, he’s afraid he’d eventually go back to being that person he was before. You make him want to be better. Trying to be worthy of you gives Steve purpose.

He imagined that getting a college education would help keep him on that path. It seems farther away with each rejection letter he receives.

Steve hasn’t told you that he hasn’t gotten into any so far. He’s afraid of disappointing you, especially after everything you’ve done for him.

The spring of ‘85 has been particularly unforgiving. It’s been storming all week - the air still hangs with that familiar smell of rain soaked concrete. You read that the Hawkins Post reported a record amount of rainfall; the local stream overflowed and flooded a few basements.

The mail is still damp when Steve retrieves it after practice. It sticks to his fingers as he shuffles through each envelope, drying his sneakers on the welcome mat.

And then his eyes linger on one addressed to him; Steve nearly drops his backpack when he sees who sent it.

Haphazardly, he tosses the rest of the mail onto the kitchen counter as he contemplates whether to even open the damn thing. Steve’s pretty sure he knows the answer. Is it an answer he wants?

Whatever the words inside this parcel read, it changes Steve’s life forever. His future is planned from the moment he breaks the seal - there would be no going back. Either he stays here in Hawkins, trapped by an education he neglected for far too long, or he gets to take a step to distance himself from this shitty town and prove his worth.

Steve isn’t a fan of the former option.

He wishes you were here to read it for him. He’d rather you tell him the news; hearing it come from your lips would make it easier.

By the time Steve decides to open it, a few minutes have passed. Why does this feel like the scariest thing he’s ever done?

Due to the water, some of the ink bled through the paper; pieces of the letter are illegible. But at the top, a familiar phrase answers his question: Unfortunately, we regret to inform you-

Steve curses, angrily throwing the envelope and its contents into the trash. He refuses to read anymore.

He has no one to blame but himself. Maybe that’s why he’s so angry. There were multiple opportunities for him to change course and put effort into his schoolwork. By the time he finally tried, it was too late.

Thunder booms in the distance once Steve parks his car beside your mother’s. He doesn’t remember deciding to come here; the only thing he can recall is grabbing the keys, without a destination in mind. His heart brought him to your warmth.

As Steve gets out of the car, he wonders if this was maybe a bad idea. It isn’t very often that he feels afraid to face you - he’s scared of your reaction, and the outcome that could follow.

He knew that he could love you, that he could fall just as hard as you did for him. But admitting it to himself, and then you - he doesn’t know if he has the strength to do it again. That phrase has left a sour taste in his mouth, one that Steve hopes he can wash away. Because you deserve to hear it too.

Maybe he’s closer to saying it than he thought, perhaps that’s why he’s so scared to tell you. Maybe-

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Dustin’s voice startles Steve, who turns to see the boy walking his bike up the driveway. Steve fumbles his response, head spinning with thoughts about you, “I don’t, uh-”

Dustin interrupts him, not noticing the nerves Steve displays, “Hey, you should come in! It’s mac ‘n cheese night.”

Steve hangs his head in defeat, knowing that he’s going to follow your brother inside. He can’t say no to this kid.

Dustin hangs up his raincoat once the pair of them enter the house; the bell on Tews’ collar jingles as they run to greet the boys. The kitten weaves between Steve’s legs before he kneels down to give them a few pets.

“That you, Dusty?” Your mother calls from within; clattering silverware echoes from the kitchen. Steve chuckles at the nickname. Dustin punches him in the bicep.

He kicks off his shoes as he replies, “Hey Mom! Get out another bowl - look who I found loitering around.”

Steve scoffs, shoving Dustin as they walk forward through the threshold into the living room. Your mom moves to welcome them; her warm smile widens when she sees Steve by her son’s side, “Well look who it is! Steve, sweetheart, how are you?”

He’s baffled by her every time he shares a meal with your family. Her kind soul is infectious, and drastically different from the parents he was raised by. Steve tries not to think about the fact her beloved pet is secretly buried out back - he’s reminded of it whenever he sees her.

“I’m good, Mrs. Henderson. How are you?” Steve answers, returning her grin. She envelops him in a quick hug, “How many times am I going to have to tell you? Just call me Claudia, hon.”

Steve laughs along with her as he follows her to the kitchen, “I think you’ll need to remind me one more time.”

And then his eyes meet yours from across the room. They smile nearly as much as your lips at the sight of him; your heart flutters at this unexpected surprise.

When you catch onto the sadness in his expression, the corners of your mouth drop. It’s obvious to you that something’s wrong. Steve doesn’t usually stop by without an invitation; something must’ve happened.

Throughout dinner, you take mental notes on his deflated behavior. It’s subtle enough to fool your family, but you know him better. With each minute that passes, the more anxious you become to hear the cause. So when he volunteers to help you with the dishes, as he always does, you know it’s only a matter of time.

“How was practice?” You ask before drying off a cup. Steve takes it from your hand as he replies, “Uh, it was good. Although it’s annoying that we’re still practicing even though the season’s over.”

You hum in agreement as he places the glass on the shelf. Steve glances back at you briefly, “What about you? What’d you get up to?”

A beat passes - you’re looking for the words to describe your afternoon. Maybe not the words, but the courage. It’s only when he turns around, brow creased, do you answer him.

“I studied at Nancy’s,” You say. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, “Oh yeah? How’d that go?”

You nod your head, focusing your gaze onto the floor, “It was nice, actually. It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be.”

“Now when you say studying…” He trails off for a moment as he thinks, “You two didn’t… exchange notes about me or anything, did you?”

Steve’s growing smirk makes you laugh; you hit him playfully with the towel, “No! And I haven’t told her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

A part of him can’t help but be relieved. There’s no limit to what you two could chat about.

“We just ended up talking about college most of the time,” You add, “She wanted to know some tips since she’ll be applying soon.”

Steve grabs a plate to dry; in order to try and quell his anxiety, he has to do something productive. But your mind recognizes it as a distraction - you’re no stranger to coping mechanisms.

“Have you figured out where you’re gonna go yet?” He questions, praying your answer isn’t far; lightning flashes outside the kitchen window, followed closely by the low rumble of thunder.

You sigh as you lean back against the counter, “I’m not sure. Nancy was helping me talk through my options earlier, but it’s such a big decision to make. I wanna make sure it’s the right fit.”

Steve nods slightly, forehead creasing as he wipes his hands on the towel. And by the way he clenches his jaw at your reply, you know that this is the source of contention.

You nudge his leg with your foot, “What about you? Get any responses back?”

The breath hitches in Steve’s throat; there’s no way this conversation doesn’t end with his reveal. The longer it takes for him to speak, the more concerned you grow.

“I, uh-“ A sigh passes his lips as he grips the counter, keeping his focus away from you. He doesn’t want to witness your reaction.

“I didn’t get in,” Steve mutters. He exhales, shaking his head in disbelief; until now, it almost didn’t seem real. It took admitting it to you for his brain to accept it.

You shift on your feet, unsure of what to say. Over the past few weeks, you and Steve had been discussing how your relationship would persist once you both had made your college commitments. This wasn’t an outcome either of you prepared for.

“Holy shit, Steve. I’m sorry…” You whisper. Steve pushes his face into his hands; his voice is muffled from behind his palms, “Yeah, yeah… holy shit.”

You don’t hesitate any more to comfort him. Steve straightens as you place your hands on his arms; he melts into your touch, unable to prevent you from turning his body to face yours.

“Hey, it’ll be fine,” You reassure him, “College isn’t the only option, you know. There are other things you could do.”

The expression on Steve’s face breaks your heart. You’d do anything to wipe it away and brighten his mood. But Steve just sighs again, appreciating your efforts to help him, but nothing seems to be working.

“How’d your parents react?” You ask. The only thing keeping Steve grounded to this moment is the firm grip you have on his shoulders; he thinks he’d float away without it.

He scoffs a bit; the sound breaks the deafening silence that formed as he thought of a response. His eyes are still focused downwards as he finally answers you, “They don’t know yet. I just got the last letter today. I couldn’t think of going anywhere else.”

When your fingers brush against his cheek, Steve instinctively moves his hands to rest on your waist, “I’m sorry, I just-”

Steve finally lifts his head. Your eyes are wide, pupils filled to the brim with nothing but your fondness for him. All of a sudden, he’s confused why he was so scared to tell you. He realizes that he never should’ve doubted you.

“I was scared this would change things. Or that you’d be disappointed in me or some shit.”

Your brow furrows as you laugh softly - baffled by his words, “What could ever make you think that I’d be disappointed in you?”

A flash of previous memories answers your own question. You decide not to pull on that thread anymore.

“This changes things,” You mutter. Your eyeline drops as you pause, choosing your words carefully before continuing, “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Finally, Steve feels a bit of relief. The sincerity in your voice calms the fear, and a deep exhale allows him to let it go. Your compassion and understanding permits him to begin thinking clearly again. He knew there was a reason he came here.

You’re right though. This does change how you both navigate the future. But with you here to support him, Steve figures he’ll be just fine.

“I mean…” The corner of your mouth curls up at the thought that pops into your head, “The only way my opinion of you changes is if you killed my brother or something like that.”

Steve chuckles slightly, “But Mike’s still fair game?”

“Oh yeah, go ahead,” You quip, “He’s had it comin’ for a while.”

Even though your voices are hushed, the joke still makes you crack a pair of brilliant smiles; it almost makes Steve forget about his future for a moment. Standing here in your arms, Steve can’t help but realize how safe he feels.

And then you sigh, reaching up to brush back a lock of his brunette hair - the sensation of your touch fills Steve with something new, something different. A direct contrast to the violent storm brewing outside, this is soft, warm, and golden. Like daylight.

Your eyes meet again. Honestly, he’s not sure he ever wants to look at anything else.

Your hand lands on his chest, “This doesn’t make me love you any less.”

Steve throws caution to the wind - he kisses you. And already, you can tell that this is one you’ll remember. His lips are soft against yours, but without sacrificing an ounce of passion. You almost forget that someone could walk in and expose your relationship; when Steve finally pulls away, it doesn’t matter anyways.

As if you weren’t left breathless enough from his kiss, the words he mutters afterwards could’ve done it themselves.

With one of his trademark smirks plastered across his face, Steve moves to hold your head between his palms, “Fuck, I love you.”

You kiss him again so quickly that you both didn’t have enough time to wipe the twinkling grins from your lips. Your noses are squished against each other, but neither of you cares enough. Your shared love dulls the pain.

Steve smiles into the kiss even further. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

— taglist: @djjarin / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing / @mikariell95 / @pilunb / @harringtherin / @royalestrellas / @ultrunning / @buggs177 / @poutfull / @yoheyyosup / @duchessdaisybat / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury / @beththebubbly / @i-bitch-you-bitch / @captainstilinskis / @juliebean247 / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender / @rexorangecouny / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior / @jointhehunt67 / @peanutem / @ketchuplukehemmo / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass / @alafolieee / @mochminnie / @phantomalchemist / @dustyblueboo / @alonewolfsblog / @ggclarissa / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long / @bippityboppitybabe / @readinthegarden12 / @bakugouishusbando / @stxtch72 / @random-girl-army / @wisdaemon / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

if you want be added to the taglist, just lemme know!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #st fic #st imagine #steve harrington x you #my writing #almost paradise

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2dmenenthusiast · 4 years ago

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Grounded - Levi Ackerman x Reader

I had this whole thing typed out but it all got deleted cuz im an idiot so all I’ll say is that writing for Levi is hella difficicult, I hate the ending, and I hope you all enjoy. also yes there is a line from TWD in here but it fit so perfectly and it was too good to pass up okay? and I gave Hange they/them pronouns btw

(also one of my favorite fanfic writers @phen0l followed me and uhh I just wanna say that I’m honored?? They write amazing Levi fics and fics for other fandoms, so make sure to go check them out)

Summary: The Scouts are getting ready for the 57th expedition outside the walls, and you can’t help but let Levi know how worried you feel about the possible outcome of the mission

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings/other info: swearing, angst, death, spoilers for AOT season 1, reader has possible anxiety, reader is kept gender nuetral

No matter how many times you face them, no matter how many times you find yourself suspended in mid-air right over their gaping mouths, ready to swallow you whole, you will always have nightmares about that one fateful day in Shiganshina. The day the Colossal Titan kicked in Wall Maria and let his friends feast on the people in your district. Your friends, family, all destined to be one thing at that moment. Titan fodder. You still wonder how you made it out sometimes. How through all the commotion, a titan didn’t target you and scoop you into its mouth, effectively sealing your fate just like everyone around you. You chalked it up to luck at first before telling yourself that was bullshit. Luck didn’t have anything to do with it. Shit just happens, and there’s nothing you can do about it besides roll with the punches and try your best to survive.

The sight of your sister and father being eaten by those beasts was permanently engraved behind your eyelids, seeing flashes of their thrashing, screaming bodies whenever you close your eyes to go to sleep. In those moments, you always wondered why you survived rather than them. Your sister… she was the sweetest little thing, lighting up a room whenever she smiled and constantly greeting you at the door with a hug whenever you came back from shopping in town. You swore her laugh was all you needed to take you right out of a bad mood, reminding you that things weren’t so bad if you had someone so full of joy in your life. And your father, while he was stubborn, he made sure to take care of his family the best he could, and you were forever grateful for that. He raised you to be strong and rely on yourself because in the end, the only person you truly had on your side was you.

No one really knew about your past. Well, besides your superiors who needed to know, but other than them, your fellow cadets knew the bare minimum about your private life. Although, when they found out you were from Shiganshina, they all just automatically assumed you suffered a great loss of some kind, whether it be your family or your home. In your case, it was both. Of course, you were close with some of the other soldiers. Eld and Petra were people you considered to be good friends with, along with the rest of your captain’s squad. Though, that didn’t stop you from wanting to deck Oluo in the face whenever he got too cocky, throwing his arm around your shoulders during lunch before immediately removing it when you would elbow him in the ribs.

“Jeez, Oluo. You think you’d learn by now. What is this, the fifth, sixth time?” Petra asked, pushing a stray hand of hair behind her ear.

“Seventh,” you chimed as you brought a spoonful of soup up to your mouth.

“Aw, you’ve been keeping count. That must mean you actually like me.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked over at him, placing the spoon back in your bowl before licking the remaining soup off of your lips. “You know this food is still steaming. Don’t make me throw it at your old ass face.”

He let out a noise of protest while the rest of the table laughed, and you snickered to yourself before shifting your gaze to meet Levi’s, his steely eyes almost piercing through you before he looked down into his cup and tuned back into the conversation his commander and squad leader Hange were having, watching as the dark liquid swirled around.

You always knew Levi to be a man of few words, but a strong sense of purpose. He wasn’t one to waste time on trivial things, always wanting to get straight to the point. He didn’t seem to be the type to waste time on feelings either, but you guessed it wasn’t any of your business. You knew he felt things. Experienced emotions and all that. You’d be stupid to think he didn’t. During training, when he’d survey your group to see how things were going, there would always be gossip when he left, your peers saying how he was cold and emotionless, but you disagreed. You had already heard the rumors of the captain being some type of underground gangster at that point, so when you really thought about it, it wasn’t unusual or weird for him to act the way he did. Something, someone, had made him that way, and that was okay. Something had affected all of you too. The world you all lived in didn’t have the time to spare you from grief or trauma.

“Cadet l/n.”

You jumped slightly at the sudden mention of your name, lifting your head to see your captain entering the mess hall with a signature cup of tea in his hand, and you gave him a lazy smile before looking back down at your own cup, the liquid having gone cold over the time you had been sitting there. Levi didn’t reprimand you for not saluting him, just silently walked over and occupied the seat across from you, looking at you with that stern gaze of his.

“You should be asleep. I won’t make training any easier for you tomorrow just because you’re tired.”

“This isn’t unusual for me, captain. Just needed something else to look at that wasn’t my bedroom wall,” you said, your voice quiet.

He slightly tilted his head as he studied you, lifting his hand to gesture around the room. “And you thought an empty mess hall would be better?”

You let out a scoff, meeting his eyes for a moment before sipping at your drink and immediately grimacing at the taste of it. “It’s better than the alternative. For now, at least.”

He didn’t respond at first, simply staring off into the distance as he let your words sink in before setting down his cup with a soft ‘clink.’ You thought that maybe if you weren’t so over everything at the moment, you wouldn’t be acting so casual with your superior, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Hopefully this wouldn’t bite you in the ass later

“You’re not the first one here to experience nightmares, you know.”

“Oh, so you have this talk with all of the cadets in the middle of the night?”

“No,” he answered simply, taking another sip of his drink.

You didn’t know why, but that simple interaction had been the best one you had with another person in months. Sure, you loved the company of your friends, but talking to Levi was just so… different. Almost liberating in a way. There were things you had told him that you never told anyone else during your late-night meetings, and it got to the point where you had found yourself looking forward to talking with him. Because you knew that behind his gaze was a man that felt so much, and you knew what that was like.

“You know… I only really made it out because they were too busy eating my family.”

Levi paused at that, eyebrows slightly raised as he looked at you over his cup that was pressed to his lips. He didn’t speak at first, taking his time as he leisurely drank his tea, and you could practically feel the depth of the silence looming over the both of you like it was its own presence.

“Shit, maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut,” you thought, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you anxiously waited for Levi’s response.

You didn’t want him to pity you. That was never your intention. You guessed you just.... wanted someone to know what you were thinking and feeling, tired of constantly keeping it to yourself. If you got eaten by a titan one day, you’d at least want someone to know who you were. Who you really were.

“Sorry, I um…” you looked around at everything besides the man sitting in front of you, trying to find a way to fill the silence. “You probably don’t wanna hear some sob story from some cadet, I-”

“‘Some cadet?’”

Your eyes snapped over to his, mouth slightly agape before swallowing thickly. “I… Well I mean-”

“Talking like that about yourself isn’t going to change anything or make anything better. You’re not just some cadet, and I’m even willing to say that you’re not as bad as some of the shit-for-brains we have here. You came here to do the same thing everyone else is here to do. Fight for humanity. Whether your end goal is selfish or to try and relieve yourself of some guilt from the past, it doesn’t matter.” He leaned closer to you, elbows placed on the table as he pinned you with his gaze. “Every life sacrificed out there matters. So does yours, even if you don’t think it does. And it’s our job to make sure those soldiers don’t die in vain.

You didn’t know what to say. No one had ever really talked to you like this, so how could you know how to respond? Luckily, he started speaking again so that you didn’t have to.

“Your family… it’s a shame what happened to them. What you had to go through. But, their deaths will be avenged, and I will make damn sure of it.”

That night was the first time you cried in probably months. You thought Levi would think of you as some pathetic little soldier, trying to gain the sympathy of their captain, but he didn’t. He just placed a hand over yours and let you cry, and you remembered how you were sort of surprised by how warm he was. You remember that talk like it was only yesterday when in reality it was years ago. You and Levi didn’t talk as much as you used to, considering the fact that he was constantly busy with helping the titan shifter cadet, Eren Jaeger, and you had been recruited to squad leader, so you had your own people to deal with. But that didn’t mean you two never spoke. Whenever your paths crossed, you’d make sure to give him a little greeting, whether it was a simple wave or a “hello.” And occasionally, when you couldn’t sleep and you’d come down to the mess hall, he was there, a steaming cup of tea in front of him, and you’d talk for a few hours until you both agreed it was time to try and catch some sleep.

Now, the soldiers were getting ready for the 57th expedition, and you couldn’t shake off the bad feeling you got whenever you thought about it. Of course, every expedition was dangerous. More often than not, the scouts would come back from outside the walls with more than a few dead, and on bad days, their numbers would be cut in half. Eren was making progress, and you hoped he would be useful, but a part of you was still doubtful.

“I’m worried,” you stated, arms crossed over your chest as you stood next to Levi, watching the cadets train vigorously.

“You always worry.”

You glanced over at the man and huffed, seeing him completely focused on the soldiers before you lightly kicked your boot into the dirt. “I guess that’s kinda my thing, isn’t it? Can you blame me though? We’ve seen what Eren can do, but… he hardly has it under control. And this isn’t exactly a normal expedition.”

“Things will turn out the way they turn out. There’s nothing we can do except make sure things go the best way they can.”

You sighed. Levi was able to reassure you most of the time, but other times he did nothing to calm your nerves. It wasn’t his job to, though. His responses were straightforward, and if you didn’t like it then that was just something you had to deal with.

“Ever the optimist, Levi,” you said, a sarcastic lilt to your voice, and you smiled when he glanced at you before shaking his head.

“Hey! You’re not here to slack off. Pick up the pace before I make you all train through dinner.”

You were used to Levi giving out orders. Hell, he gave them to you all the time, but his commanding voice sent shivers down your spine at that moment.

��He’s a freaking tiny tyrant, I swear,” you heard one of the cadets mutter, and you couldn’t help but snicker as you turned your head away from your captain, covering your mouth to conceal your smile.

“Find something funny?”

You cleared your throat as you shook your head, turning to Levi with a grin and shrugging your shoulders. “Not at all, captain. Just have a little cough is all.”

“Mhm. Maybe I should make you run it off then.”

“Aw c’mon, Levi. Have a little laugh. We all need one once in a while, especially considering the day you’re all going to have tomorrow.”

He just let out a hum, and your smile slowly dropped as you looked out at the horizon, the sky painted in beautiful strokes of orange and pink. Yes, you were right, you all needed those small moments of joy in this fucked up world you lived in, but you weren’t stupid enough to believe that those moments could last forever. Sometimes you just had to face the reality of the situation you were all in, and you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that filled you as you thought about tomorrow.

“You’re overthinking. Stop it,” Levi said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head and gave him a smile that felt bittersweet. “I can’t help it sometimes. I wish I could go with you.”

“We have enough force and skill in the recruits we have for the expedition. It would be a waste to put you and your squad into it and leave you hanging with no real job to do.”

“No real job? We’d be doing what everyone else would be; killing titans and keeping Eren safe! How would we not be useful? You know for a fact that my squad and I are plenty skilled and-”

“We can’t risk more sacrifices by putting you out there. We have enough people to hopefully accomplish what we need to.”

“Then why wasn’t my squad a first choice to go beyond the walls this time? We’re more capable than most of the people here and you know it. Maybe if I talk to Erwin he’ll-”

“This wasn’t just Erwin’s decision, it was mine. And your insubordination is starting to get irritating, so I suggest you take a walk.”

You looked at Levi with widened eyes, disbelief clear on your face, and you swallowed down what you actually wanted to say before letting out a deep breath.

“Levi, I-”

“Take a walk, l/n. I don’t wanna hear about it.”

You simply blinked at him a few times, clearly upset by the way he addressed you, before letting out a scoff and walking away, your jaw and fists clenched tightly. Yes, maybe you were being a bit childish, but you refused to acknowledge that when you felt so pissed at the moment.

“I mean, how can he just treat me like that?! Just completely dismiss me and not even give me a reasonable answer! He’s so… He’s just so… Ugh!”

You groaned and rested your head in your hands as you sat across from Hange, your friend looking at you with raised brows as they idly tapped their fingers against the table.

“I mean, he is your superior, y/n.”

“But that’s not the point! Like, yeah okay, I know he’s my captain and all that, but… We’ve always just been casual with each other. We’ve never seen each other as our ranks. I still respect him and follow his orders when he gives them but…” You let out a noise of frustration and slammed your fists down on the table. “That doesn’t give him the right to just pull out the superiority card whenever it benefits him!”

Hange blinked a few times before letting out a sigh, brushing a piece of stray hair out of their face as they leaned back in their chair, shrugging their shoulders. “I mean, he said it was also his decision, right? So maybe… he’s trying to keep you safe?”

Your eyes widened almost comically, feeling heat travel up the back of your neck at the mention of the possibility that Levi was concerned about your safety. “I-I… I mean he- um.”

“Oh my, are you getting flustered, y/n? Does the thought of Levi caring about you make your heart race?” Hange asked, a playful smirk on their face.

“Stop! For the love of everything, please stop,” you whined, waving your hands in front of you as you tried to ignore how embarrassed you felt.

Hange just laughed at you, continuing to poke fun until you threatened to not be a part of their crazy experiments anymore, to which they quickly backed off. You thought talking with Hange might make you feel better, but hours later when you were pacing in front of the door to Levi’s office, you still wanted to rip your hair out as you thought of what to say to him. Letting out a huff and straightening your posture, trying to gain some nerve, you raised your hand to knock on the door, only for it to suddenly open and reveal your captain, his cravat having come off and the first few buttons of his shirt undone.

“Your incessant pacing is driving me up the wall. What do you want?”

Oh, so he had heard you. You avoided eye-contact, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of your neck before clearing your throat to try and relieve some of the awkwardness you felt.

“Um… can I come in?”

You both stood there for a moment, Levi’s gaze traveling up and down your body before stepping aside to let you in, and you gave him a small, appreciative nod as you walked inside his office. The tension in your shoulders was almost painful, your whole body almost stiff as Levi walked in front of you to sit on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. It was only Levi, a man you had come to know for years. And while you didn’t know everything about him, you still considered you both to be somewhat close. So why were you feeling so weird right now?

“Uh… I wanted to talk about this afternoon,” you said, mindlessly fidgeting with your fingers.

Levi raised a curious brow, letting you linger in silence for a moment before letting out a soft hum. “Not sure it’s something worth talking about.”

Lips curving into a small frown, you mimicked his posture and crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one foot. “Well, I think we left some things… unaddressed back there, and I wanna talk about it.”

He didn’t say anything, and you were starting to get pissed, your fuse short enough as it is. Your frustration finally hit its peak when he grabbed the cup of tea next to him and wordlessly took a sip, and you swore at that moment you wanted to take the cup and smash it against his head.

“Goddammit, would you stop drinking your stupid fucking tea and listen to me?!” you yelled, and you could see a flash of shock in his eyes at your outburst before he glared at you, setting his cup down.

“You wanna repeat that?”

“Oh, don’t get all fucking ‘Captain Levi’ on me. You know exactly what all of this is about. You didn’t even try to give me a reasonable explanation earlier, and I feel like I deserve one.”

“Do you? You think you deserve something for acting like this?”

“I’m not a child!”

“But I am your superior, which you seem to forget quite a lot.”

“That is such bullshit! Since when have you given two fucks about ranks when it comes to us? I follow your orders when I have to, not when you use your superiority when it’s most convenient for you.”

Levi clicked his tongue as he got off of his desk, rounding it to sit in his chair, and your fists were clenched so tightly it was becoming almost painful, your nails digging into your palms.

“You know, you say you’re not a child, yet you constantly act like one. Throwing a fit when you don’t get your way. Sometimes I wonder why Erwin made the decision to promote you.”

Your eyes widened as you softly gasped, questioning if you heard Levi correctly, but you know you did. There was no mistaking it. You always believed that Levi knew that you were capable, that you could protect yourself. But now he made you question if he really thought those things. Did he even respect you as a soldier? After countless nights of spilling your guts to him and him reassuring you… did he think of you as just some simple-minded cadet? You felt like your heart was in your throat and tears were threatening to spill, but you just swallowed everything down and turned your head away.

“Good luck on the expedition tomorrow,” you muttered, and you were quick to leave his office and rush back to your room, tears spilling down your cheeks.

______________

When it came time for your fellow scouts to leave for the expedition in the morning, you were a bit reluctant to watch them, knowing that you’d end up automatically spotting Levi in the crowd, and the petty side of you wanted to ignore him at all costs. However, the rational side of you remembered that it wasn’t just Levi going out there, it was other soldiers as well, most of them you knew personally, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give them a proper send-off, knowing the likelihood of some of them not making it back. So, you dragged yourself out of bed and made yourself presentable, slipping on your jacket as you stepped out of your room.

“Y/n!”

You turned at the shout of your name, seeing Hange waving excitedly at you as they jogged down the hall, slowing down to walk with you.

“So? How did it go with Captain Shorty?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes, bringing your fingers up to rub at your temples to try and cease the headache you already felt coming. “I don’t even wanna talk about it.”

“Dang, that bad, huh?” Hange grimaced.

“You have no idea. I just wanna forget about it”

Hange didn’t say anything more on the topic after that, simply talking about random things with you as you walked outside to the stables. You had a bad feeling settled in your stomach ever since you woke up, but as more time passed it just got worse.

“Hange,” you muttered, the squad leader turning towards you with raised eyebrows as they held the reins to their horse.

“Uh… Please be careful out there, okay?”

Hange looked shocked for a moment before their mouth split into a wide grin, and they quickly pulled you into a tight hug, which you immediately reciprocated.

“Aw, y/n! Don’t worry about me, I’m always careful!”

“That is such a lie, but I’ll believe you anyway,” you chuckled.

Pulling away from each other, Hange mounted their horse and joined the rest of the scouts at the gate, and you went to stand at the sidelines with the rest of your peers to watch them. Your eyes immediately caught sight of a head of familiar black hair, and you felt your heart grow heavy and your chest tighten, almost wishing he would feel your gaze and look over at you. But he didn’t and with Erwin’s war-cry, they charged through the open gate, the horses kicking up dirt and dust, and you only got a glance at their retreating figures before the gate was closed again.

______________

Every minute that ticked by felt like hours. You didn’t know how long they would be gone, the time usually spent outside the walls ranging from a few hours to a few days. You hoped it was the former, knowing that the longer they were out there, the more likely they were to get killed. You knew your comrades were skilled, having been outside the walls with them and seen their skills up close, but that didn’t stop you from worrying. Now with the Eren being a titan shifter and a traitor in your midst, anything could happen.

You almost didn’t acknowledge the shouting of your fellow soldiers that afternoon, too focused on taking care of some of the horses in the stables. But when you finally heard it, you quickly stopped what you were doing and ran to the gate. They were back. Adrenaline coursed through you as your heart pounded like a drum against your chest, and when you finally caught sight of the returning scouts, you immediately stopped in your tracks. The look on their faces was one of defeat, and you could already tell just by looking at them that not all of them made it back. When you spotted Hange, you felt some relief wash over you and you quickly made your way over to them, walking beside their horse.

“Hange, what happened? Was the mission successful?”

Hange didn’t answer, a blank look on their face, which was identical to the expressions on all of the other soldier’s faces. It was a bad day, that much you could tell, and you made brief eye-contact with Levi before looking for your friends. Only… you couldn’t see them. Turning around frantically, you spotted Eren laying in a cart and ran over, jumping in beside him as you glanced at his hand clutching Mikasa’s. He looked even worse than everyone else did. No, loss was never easy, but Eren was just a kid, and experiencing so much of it at his age must have been devastating for him, especially when he was so passionate about saving humanity.

“Eren, tell me what happened. Who… Who did we lose?” you asked.

You didn’t even know if you wanted to know the answer, seeing Eren so broken and torn up already told you that what happened out there wasn’t good, but when was it ever? The boy had tears falling down his cheeks, trying to keep his sobs quiet, and Mikasa just looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“Y/n, I don’t think right now’s a good time-”

“Please!” You gripped the cape that was laid over top of Eren, eyes focussed on the blue and white wings embroidered on the back and you sniffled as you tried to hold back the tears that were desperately trying to come out. “I… I need to know. Please, Eren…”

He stared at you with wide eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed before letting out a shuddered breath. “They… We were after the female titan and she… I couldn’t save them, y/n. They died protecting me!”

Your face seemed void of any emotion as Eren’s words sunk in, piercing your heart like a million knives, and all you did was nod silently before jumping out of the cart, your mind going on autopilot as you walked. You didn’t need him to explain who he was talking about for you to already put the pieces together. Levi had told you that Eren was going to be a part of his squad so that he could keep an eye on him, and his squad was in charge of protecting him. He had become humanity’s number one asset after all. Civilians were shouting at all of you, cursing at you and hurling insults at your face. You weren’t even one of the scouts on the expedition, but that didn’t matter. As long as you wore the wings of freedom on your back, you were a bastard like the rest of them. No more, no less.

You had stumbled too close to the crowd, too preoccupied with your thoughts to even notice, until a large man gripped your shoulders and pushed you in front of the horses, your body landing harshly in the dirt as some of the people laughed at you. You heard someone shout your name, but it sounded distant to you, everyone’s drowned out underneath the roaring of your thoughts. You shifted yourself onto your hands and knees, only to look up and see Hange crouched down in front of you, a concerned expression on their face.

“Y/n, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

There was a ringing in your ears as you looked at them, trying desperately to just get a grip.

The dirt under my hands, the dryness in my mouth, the shouts of the citizens, the musty smell of the horses… Hange right in front of me.

“I’m fine. I… I’m fine.”

The single tear slipping down your cheek went unnoticed by you, but it was one of the things that let Hange know that you were lying. That you weren’t fine. Reaching out to wipe the tear away Hange shook their head.

“Y/n-”

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

Giving Hange a tight-lipped smile, you picked yourself up off the ground and made your way back to the Scout’s headquarters, feeling everyone’s eyes on your back, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Levi was watching you too.

______________

You didn’t keep track of how long you cried that day, keeping yourself locked in your room and sobbing until your body physically couldn’t produce any more tears. The last time you cried this much was when your family died, same thing could be said when you thought about the last time you felt this way. Like all hope was lost. You found yourself questioning what the point of all of this was for a moment before you quickly slapped yourself out of that thought. You knew why you had to do this, why the Survey Corps was important. But shit, all this loss? You didn’t know how much more you could take. Especially if days like today became more frequent.

Then you got to thinking about Levi and the stupid argument you had yesterday. At the time, you felt like your feelings were justified, and maybe they were, but now you felt like a complete idiot for arguing with him, especially the day before an expedition where it was one hundred percent possible that he could’ve died out there. The thought of your last interaction being some petty argument made more tears fall, and you gripped the sheets of your bed so tightly that you thought they might rip. Did he even want to speak to you now? Maybe he realized that you were just some immature little soldier and wanted nothing to do with you.

No, you couldn’t accept that. You wouldn’t. Standing from your bed, you harshly wiped at your eyes and sniffled, trying to look like you weren’t crying for hours on end - even though it was pointless, you knew Levi would be able to tell immediately - and exited your room to start making your way to Levi’s office. Your nerves were kicked into high gear, but you refused to let this man intimidate you. You were going to let him know how you felt and he was going to listen. Of course, your confidence immediately deflated when you found yourself standing in front of his door, but you swallowed down your nerves and knocked, taking a deep breath.

Levi’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door, telling you to come in, and you let out a small huff as you gripped the doorknob and let yourself in. He didn’t even look up from the paperwork in front of him when you walked in, and as the door closed behind you and you moved to stand in front of his desk with your hands held behind your back, you lightly cleared your throat to get his attention. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you could feel yourself shrink under his gaze. There was no doubt he saw what happened earlier today when they came back, and from the way he was examining you, you knew he could easily tell that you had been crying.

“Did you need me?” he asked, and you sharply inhaled at the sound of his voice. It felt like forever since he talked to you last, and hearing him speak made your stomach do flips.

“Uh… I don’t know, honestly. I didn’t really practice what I was going to say before I came in here.”

He raised a brow at you. “‘Practice?’”

“I mean, it’s kinda hard to talk to you. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just… Ah shit, I don’t know. It might just be me. I’m not the best at articulating, you know?”

He hummed and grabbed his cup as you let out a sigh, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk and leaning your elbows on your knees, bouncing your leg. Taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you wordlessly gazed at him for a moment, a made-up image of his death flashing in your mind before you shook your head and ran your hand down your face.

“Look, um… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for yesterday. For questioning your judgment when I should’ve just dealt with it. You’re my superior and I disrespected you so… Again, I’m sorry.”

Silence fell between you for a moment before he let out a sigh, setting down his cup before leaning his chin against his propped up hand. “Don’t apologize. You were right.”

Your eyes widened. Did you hear that correctly? “Uh, I’m sorry?”

Getting up from his seat, he rounded his desk to stand in front of you, and you were even more confused. You swore he would’ve been done with you by now.

“You said you and your squad were more than capable of handling the mission. You were right. Or at least, you were right at the time. The female titan would’ve wiped us all out if she wanted to, just like she did my squad. I don’t doubt that if you went after her, you’d be dead right now too.”

You stiffened slightly at his words, fingers gripping your knees as you let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. “Oh.”

“As captain, I’m supposed to remain unbiased. My decisions should be based on the greater good of humanity and my comrades. If my judgment is wrong, then that’s something I have to live with. Making my squad protect Eren was my decision, and they died.” He let out a long breath. “When Erwin decided to not bring you on the expedition, I was opposed to it at first. I knew that you and your squad would be able to aid us greatly, but I couldn’t sway him. However, now that I think about it, I’m glad you weren’t there.”

You were at a loss for words. When Hange had joked the other day about Levi caring about you, you didn’t take it seriously. But now that you were hearing all of this… Did he care for you? Or was it just your wishful thinking that was causing you to interpret things wrong? Slowly standing up, you briefly met his gaze before walking over to the window and looking out at the night sky, the sun having gone down a while ago, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you tried to piece together what you wanted to say to him.

“Even if you think I was right, I’m still sorry. I don’t like arguing, especially with you. And the fact that you had to go on an expedition the next day…” You swallowed thickly. “I was scared. I know you say that there’s no use regretting the decisions we’ve made, but if you died out there today and a stupid argument was the last interaction we ever had, I would’ve regretted it every day of my life.” You turned to face him, eyes glossing over. “I would’ve beat myself up when I know you’d want me to continue to be strong. But I feel like I can’t do that without you, and I feel so weak and stupid for saying that. For feeling like the only thing that gives me hope in this godforsaken world is you.”

Levi remained silent, not that you expected him to say anything, and you sniffled as you reached up to wipe at your teary eyes before sighing and giving him a sad smile.

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t wanna hear some silly confession. I’ll let you get back to your business,” you said, walking past Levi to get to the door, but you didn’t make it that far when his hand suddenly shot out and gripped your arm, causing you to turn back and look at him.

“Why do you always do that?”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You never take yourself seriously and act like the people around you don’t either. You’re self-deprecating. You did the same thing when I found you in the mess hall years ago. Why?”

“I… I don’t know, I guess I just get nervous around you.”

“Why?”

Your mouth felt dry suddenly, and your heart was racing as Levi’s grip on your arm tightened and he pulled you closer. “Because… I want to be strong in front of you. I don’t want you to see me as someone immature and incapable, and I’m scared of embarrassing myself in front of you.”

“Did you find your confession embarrassing? Do you want me to forget about it?”

“If you want to.”

“Mm. And what if I don’t?”

You let out a shuddered breath, eyes flitting down to his lips for a moment. “Then what will you do about it?”

Neither of you moved at first, your gaze not leaving one another, and you felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest, it was going so fast. You wondered if Levi was experiencing the same feeling. Wondered if underneath that stoic, calm expression, his blood was pumping in his ears and his pulse was going crazy. You were waiting for him to do something, anything, as he stared at you with an almost challenging look. It made anger flare up in you for some reason, and you clenched your jaw as you narrowed your eyes.

No, I won’t let this get away from me.

Reaching up, your hand grabbed at his cravat, yanking him forward into an almost desperate kiss that had your mind reeling. His brows were scrunched up, body tense, before finally relaxing, and you could feel him almost melt into you as he brought both of his hands up to hold your face, eagerly responding. Your frustration had been building up ever since your fight, and you felt like you were both letting it all out now, each kiss hungry and rushed, barely able to pull your faces away before one of you was pulling the other one in again.

“Fuck, I can’t stand you sometimes,” you breathed out between kisses, fingers weaving into Levi’s dark locks and lightly tugging, causing him to let out a soft groan against your lips.

“Stop talking.”

You don’t know when the anxiety started bubbling in your stomach or why your heart felt like it was about to jump out of your throat, all you knew was that every sensation was suddenly overwhelming. Levi’s hands, his lips, his breath against your face, it was all too much. You were suddenly pushing him away, tears quickly building up behind your eyes as you panted for breath. Whether it be from the desperateness of your kisses, or the constricting of your chest, you didn’t know. You just knew that everything was suddenly hitting you at once, and you couldn't get a grasp on how to deal with it.

“Y/n…”

Right, Levi was still here, and he looked at you with a hand slightly reached out, waiting for you to meet him halfway. You hesitated, staring at his hand like you were trying to see through it, before eventually grabbing it, and he slowly pulled you into his chest. Your arms were limp at your sides, silent tears streaming down your face as Levi held you.

“They’d be proud of you, y/n. You know that.”

You felt like you had been falling all of your life, nothing to stop you, nothing to hold onto as you plummeted through an endless abyss. But now, as you brought your hands up to grip the back of Levi’s jacket and sobbed into his shoulder, for once, you felt like your feet had finally found the ground.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi imagine #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x gn!reader

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chipper-smol · 4 years ago

Text

Pale Jester Chain

Prompt: PJ descends into Hallownest to find the mysterious pull of his king soul charm

Ya’ll can finally stop asking me about what WL and PJ think of each other

this one hurts

( @meatbunattack https://archiveofourown.org/works/27917989 )

Pale Jester’s descent They had been called to this old, forgotten kingdom when a flame was lit. The troupe had yet to meet their summoner but they would arrive in due time, they could feel how the summoner scurried down below among the caverns. Until then, the troupe would remain at the surface and provide entertainment for those who wished to visit the troupe during their performance nights.

Pale Jester, one who created the props for the show, stood in his workshop that had been provided by him by Master Grimm. Very generous of the Master to entrust the Jester with his own space.

This place, this kingdom of Hallownest. It made something uneasy stir in the Wyrm’s chest.

As he tried to focus on his work, he continued to get fleeting images on what he imagined the kingdom below to be like. It was in ruins, of course since they were called, but he could imagine buildings that reached far up into the sky, roads that stretched far and wide, a network of tunnels.

Whenever he thought of the name of the kingdom, another vivid imagery entered his mind. It was like the name of the kingdom brought out a sense of adventure that he never believed he would’ve been capable of. He wanted to see what was down below, how glorious of a kingdom it could’ve been in its prime.

It felt like he had heard of the name, and that must surely mean that it was once a great enough kingdom for the name to spread far and wide!

Despite his curiosity there was still something in him that made him stay in his workshop for the day.

At least, most of the day. For when he noticed how many deadly contraptions he had created rather than the simple set he had hoped to create, he knew that his mind had been taken by the prospect of exploring this kingdom. These were too dangerous to use in a proper performance, unless the person who performed had experienced the Jester’s ire enough to experience such. He would need to dismantle them later.

For now, he grabbed his coat that hung on the wall and put it over his shoulder as he walked out. If this Hallownest kingdom were to occupy his mind enough to distract him from his work, then he would need to take a small peak at the kingdom. Enough to satisfy his curiosity!

His gut twisted uneasily as he walked towards the exit.

He stopped briefly as he passed Brumm, who was ever so faithfully playing his accordion to fill the air with music, and gave him a cheerful wave.

“I will be out on a walk, it won’t take too long I’m sure.”

Brumm stared at Jester while he continued to play his instrument. He was about to say something, but before the quiet man could do so, Jester had already walked past him towards the exit of their tent.

The white charm in his pocket pulsed briefly.

Jester Walked confidently through the town of Dirtmouth towards the well that would lead into the large kingdom down below. Of course, he could take the stagways that had opened but he would rather walk on foot. He gave an extravagant bow towards Elder bug as he passed, simply to be polite of course. He knew other bugs found the Grimm troupe unnerving so Jester wished to display they weren’t as bad as they might believe.

A polite gesture could go a long way, and it was his job to bring people towards their troupe for performance nights. Perhaps Elder bug would decide to join in seeing their performance from such a simple gesture! If that was possible then he would, of course, bow to anyone he came across.

The caverns below were… different than what he expected. He expected to see rows of cultivation or houses, signs of life at least. But this, this was a desolate road. A road that stretched as far as he could see in the darkness below to both the left and right.

Perhaps the road would lead to something more extravagant. So he turned left and hummed softly as he walked along the path. If he had brought his trusty spire with him perhaps he could’ve practiced his performance as he walked. Alas, he forgot to bring it in his haste to venture down.

But no matter, he could still amuse himself by watching his surroundings with one pair of his arms clasped behind his back while the other pair was used to closer examine the few curiosities he came across. At least within that area. It all became a lot more interesting when he ended up by a shaft with platforms that were held aloft by metal wires.

He easily conjured a small red dagger to pierce the small bug that wished to attack him. A vengefly he believed it was called. Details didn’t matter for there was a certain doorway that peaked his interest in this shaft. An opening that had vines growing out from its entrance.

The charm in his pocket pulsed once more.

Seeing the green foliage as he entered this new air brought him a sense of nostalgia. What for? Well he certainly had no clue! But it was enjoyable nonetheless to walk through this green landscape with no destination in mind. Simply letting his feet take him wherever they wanted to go.

He traversed downward through the green landscape and came upon strange moss creatures. All of them plagued by this orange disease his Master Grimm had told them all of. It was an easy task for Jester to dispose of them if they came in his way, they were all just small fry and he wished to enjoy his walk. This is so far the most interesting area he had come upon so far and he was eager to see what else there was.

Blooming flowers, thorns, bushes, no matter the greenery Jester immensely enjoyed walking amongst them as he hummed a happy tune to himself. It all felt really calming, he had never been around nature before. At least as far as he could remember. Which truthfully wasn’t much! But that hardly matters, what does matter is how much he was enjoying his walk. Yes, he certainly was.

The charm visibly glows in his pocket.

No no not now.

Jester let out a soft laugh as he rode on the mindless spiked bugs that traversed back and forth across the sea of acid. It was very handy to have such bugs who just went back and forth back and forth! With no other goal in life than to travel back and forth. It was easy to shift around the spikes on their backs and traverse from bug to bug to get across. He even struck a pose! These creatures might be useful for their performances, yes, certainly. Perhaps he should tell Master Grimm about them once he returns.

Despite being mindless, Jester still gave the bugs a bow of thanks for bringing him across and he continued on his way with a wide smile.

Too wide. Too wide. Calm down calm down calm down.

His surroundings had now changed. There were more solid structures than there were greenery and soil alone. A nice change of pace, why he was getting tired of the uneven paths! Even though the metal platforms fell under his weight he was quick enough on his feet to jump onto the next one. The bugs in his path were just as weak as the other ones from prior, one knife and they fell from the sky.

It was laughable how weak they were! Laughable! Why did the Troupe Master even warn him from traversing down here? They were all feeble and weak, nothing he wouldn’t be able to handle on his own. Why, he was doing perfectly fine! It was a simple, comfortable walk for him, really.

When did he start running? Why was he running?

Where is he running to?

Then came a difficult predicament. A barricade stood in his path that he hadn’t seen before, a wall of pure black energy. After observing the contraption for a while-

His hands were shaking. Where was he going?

Before he found a hidden switch and quickly pressed it to turn off the wall of void that stood in his way. He stood up and stepped through, no he wasn’t rushing, why would he do such? No, this was simply because he was excited to see whatever could lie before him. Surely.

Surely that was it.

He jumped from platform to platform and climbed up down up past thorns-

They caught on his cloak and made rips in his clothing a few times. He needed to get there he needed to get there.

and gracefully landed at the very top of this thorn maze with a pose befitting one of the troupe. That was when he allowed himself a brief pause, chest heaving-

Why was he breathing so hard, he didn’t run that fast did he?

from excitement as he looked at the room he now stood in. Glass lined all walls and it allowed the beautiful greenery to be seen from inside this building. It was a beautiful sight, truly. Truly!

But he couldn't stay and admire it forever, no, he had places to be! New sights to see. A whole kingdom to explore and this was only his first location!

…

He slowly took out the charm that had been glowing in his pocket for a long while. His hands were trembling as he stared at it, he felt a sharp pain in his chest but he couldn’t understand why.

He clutched it tightly in his hand and walked forward, down the hall with his back straight and faced forward. He could not shame the troupe by looking like a grub scrambling in panic. No! For he was the Pale Jester, whatever laid before him, wherever he wished to go, he would not make himself seem as if he was desperate to see it. That would be more like Divine! Not Jester, surely.

He stopped briefly as he saw a large circular structure. Almost like an egg with beautiful roots that sprouted out from it.

Roots. Roots. My. My… My…

Before he could properly prepare himself he had already entered the hole that led deeper into the egg. Surely it was out of excitement, yes. Surely. He wasn’t eager to see whatever it was. No, why would he be eager to see something he didn’t know what it was or why he was even there or what he had come running to see.

But no.

His chest hurt as if his whole being had shattered once he laid eyes on the being before him. His body ached and his limbs trembled.

This being, this-... Her roots spread out into the roof above her and into the ground below. Her body had cloth around her, cloth that Jester could immediately tell was a seal.

And it. Hurt.

Like any time he hurt for no reason, Jester started to chuckle softly, which brought the woman’s eyes towards him. They were a deep blue, the most beautiful blue he had ever seen. Now that he was noticed, he stepped further into the room with that glowing charm still clutched in his claw. Still letting out a sound similar to a giggle, he bowed low towards her with two of his arms spread out behind him while the other two rested on his chest.

He was shaking. He was shaking so badly the clacks of his shell echoed throughout the room. And his voice had a similar wavering to it as he spoke to the being before him. The woman before him. The most beautiful and wonderful and generous and loving and-

“Greetings! Terribly sorry to disturb you. haha. It seems I have completely forgotten the reason I even came here. May I know your name, my lady? It would be an honour to know the name o-of someone who holds such beauty.”

The woman kept quiet for a few brief seconds. And when she spoke, something broke inside of him. Her voice was soft, like the smoothest of silk. Her tone was soothing like the feeling of a warm flame during a chilling night. Her eyes, even if they were clouded, shone with such kindness and- and-

And sadness.

“Wyrm…?”

The white charm piece in his hand pulsed once more.

( @lidijadraws)

( @payasita )

The path was all uninhibited vegetation and gnarling, thorny overgrowth, twisting in its conquest of all the still-shiny metal and delicate machinery below. Nature had long since won its battle with what was built by mortal hands, and rendered the walkways here mossy-soft. Foliage grew unchecked over yet more, ever creeping, clutching whatever was in the way in roots and brambles while plants outpaced other plants in their bid for space. The former garden now only had itself to be at war with, near silent in its ongoing, wild expansion.

But there was something more here, hidden away in its depths. He could feel it.

Something that shone bright enough to cut through the comforting haze of percussive red that filled his dreams and pacified his thoughts. Something that pulled at him from deep deep down, like it too had taken root and clutched him tight enough that the stem could pull him about like a leash. Like a weed, invasive, choked around one of the many, funny little pieces of him loosely strung together.

A piece that the Heart would not take from him, no matter how he asked. Perhaps severing those tiny roots would simply cause what was inside to crumble, like old, packed soil. Thoroughly reclaimed by nature.

How lovely, how lovely, the way these plants might burn. There was so much green here, and so many thick tangles of bark and dry nettle that would make perfect kindling. The Master and his kin could play to the crackling tempo of it, could dance and laugh and sing along to the ecstatic roar of that cleansing inferno until there was nothing left but ash; until the land was left warm and desolate and sated.

The thought made him want to vomit. It made him want to tear his eyes out, pry his scales, to reach a claw down his throat and yank, spill his own heart, burn that instead, how could he do that, how could he hurt her?

Her?

...Who?

Already the thought slipped away like fine sand. Already it dissolved just out of reach when he tried to chase it. He did not try very hard. It was easier, so easy, to let it recede from his mind. To listen to the throb of the Heart so much louder in his skull, comforting like a lullaby. He listened, felt it under his shell, until the pain ebbed.

And when the pain ebbed, he could not particularly remember what in the world had caused it. He thought, maybe, he'd been thinking of someone. He supposed it didn't matter. But whatever it was, it had certainly made the pretty red haze so very bright in his mind.

The Jester stood with an airy giggle-- When had he fallen to his knees?-- and advanced. Past the nettles, past the remnants of glass and machinery, and past the feeble critters that hopped and flitted about unsteadily. Many were still clumsy for their rocky recoveries from that peculiarly angry disease that had all but ruled this land a short time ago, if they were lucky enough to survive it at all. He passed the old, brittle husks of those who hadn't, and of other long-fallen, one of which gave and cracked easily under his feet and nearly tripped him.

Bother. He often envied things that could fly, whose wings were not just costume. Certainly they could get around much more easily. And wings themselves were so pretty on a bug, so enviable on their own. Had he been lucky enough to have any of his own, he would have liked them to shine, he thinks.

He was snapped from his daydreaming at the sight of a roughly globose structure, and at the huge, snaking branches that burst forth from it, all dug into the surrounding rock and soil. Not branches, then. Roots.

So very many corpses lay scattered about in front. Something awful must have happened here. It was a shame he hadn't brought his lantern, and so could not collect the nightmares that must linger from the strife. Nothing wrong with a bit of errand-running while he was away from home, after all. But strangely, the thought of doing so, here, had felt… wrong. And so, on a whim, he'd left it.

He spared a jolly salute to the white warrior's corpse guarding the structure's entryway, and went inside.

Down he went, into the dark. The fool on the card, finally falling off the cliffside, trusting that he won't be impaled by something in the drop. But the Pale Jester fancied himself a rather more professional fool, and so knew very well the proper time and place for a prat fall. When it would be funny, first of all. And secondly, one should at the very least have an idea of where they'll land before they attempt one. And as the Jester did not know where he might land, or if he'd do so with safety, he elected to venture carefully.

Very carefully. The pulse racing under his shell, now, was only his own. And it just about sent his blood scrabbling to his extremities, his movements growing frenetic. He felt half mad. Desperate.

Why? Calm down, breathe. Whatever was at the end of this nerve-wracking knotted knoll, it would never be more important than the burning embrace of what he served. Even if he was a fractured thing, even if he was in pieces, the shards of him ultimately still belonged to the Heart. To the Nightmare King. He belonged to the Master.

And then he saw light. White, cold, gentle light. It squeezed him inside, not unpleasant, and slowly he entered the chamber that housed its source.

And there she was.

Bathed in the enchanting light of her own soul, bound in wrappings of cloth, and further imprisoned by a crushingly powerful magic seal all around her body. Eyes closed, silent and serene. For whose protection was his sleeping beauty sealed away?

Oh, no, not his. Her magic pulled strong, but he'd never even met her before. How horribly rude.

But by the Heart, she was beautiful. Unbelievably so. A being like her couldn't be of this world, was clearly something so much more. A being like her could easily be someone's entire world. He stepped forward, and as she opened her eyes, he had that same thought again, nearly breathless.

"One approaches," came her voice, like a knell. He shuddered. The sound set him alight.

"One is approached," he took the opportunity.

She did not say anything else, for a few seconds. Only stared down. From the tracking of her eyes, and the foggy blue he saw there, he guessed she was at least mostly blind, and perhaps hadn't always been. He spoke again, if only for an outlet for the near manic energy roiling in him from shoulders to tail.

"Do pardon the intrusion, madam. But I believe I was searching for something. I pray you take no offense."

"... No," she began, slowly. "For I know your kind, and the paltry morbidity of their goals. Your clan and kin exclusively go where they are unwanted, and do not heed the bids of any local sovereign nor law."

The Jester's head tilted, just so, as he considered her, feeling safely anonymous behind the mask while he mused.

"... Sovereigns and laws. Had this weeping land either of those before, it certainly does not, now."

"... It does not," she assented, equally unreadable.

He had the sense that this creature must have once been someone very important. It was the least he could do to respect that, even for how fate had clearly laid her low. The Master found most observances of status unnecessary, and even sometimes enjoyed poking fun at him for being prim. But the Jester found propriety comfortable, and so swept back into a scraping bow, demure and proper, and she watched him.

"May I know your name, my lady?"

Another pause.

"... There is nothing left to know. Once, I had those who would fear me, and they called me as a Pale Being. Once I had devoted, and they called me as the White Lady. Once I had a husband, and he called me his Root."

He listened, not noticing how his arm listed down from where it was extended to her.

"But in this place, there is little use in a title, and none in a name."

"It is a pleasure, my lady, either way," he implored.

"One defiled has already completed its business with me. Would that the second might now make his known."

Another "one defiled"? A previous visit from another troupe member, perhaps? Though, that didn't make much sense. Either way, how quick to dismiss him. He supposed he did have very little to offer, and she must have known that in an instant. A fool before a goddess, before a lady, before a prisoner.

"...As I said, I believe I had been searching, perhaps," he hummed, "though I could not say for what with any certainty. I would say for answers, my lady, but that would require questions, on my end, would it not?"

The Jester's fingers tapped together to a familiar beat, restless, while he blathered on.

"And I even had little in the way of those, my lady, before I found you. A few come to mind now, though. If you would be so kind as to forgive a poor fool his curiosity, my lady."

So few things outside of the circus ever felt right to him. But calling her "my lady" did, and so he would continue to indulge. It sounded so suitably silly in a place like this, anyhow.

She said nothing, only waited. Even if he preferred hearing her voice, at least he hadn't been told to just bugger off.

Maybe she found him entertaining. He hoped she found him entertaining.

"What has made you a prisoner here? The old laws of the land? Perhaps a great beast to be slain, for the fair maiden's freedom?" He spread two arms, with the others' hands clasped under his chin in mock-thoughtfulness.

"By my hand alone, I have ordained my own sealing," she tolled. His arms fell.

"... For what do you wish to atone?"

She took another moment to think, or maybe to word it right. Or maybe however many years of silence and introspection she'd been here had simply slowed her reactions to outside requisitions for her attention.

"... No atonement shall be found, for my part in facilitating the ancient sins of this kingdom. Nor do I seek it. My fate is penitence and precaution, only."

"But what was your crime?" It was barely above a whisper.

"The scope of some actions can be vast enough to transcend laws, wretched one. Ruin such as this goes beyond crime. I am no convict, for the word would be too trivial. There is no name for what we wrought, though the closest I can offer you in definition would be 'sacrilege'."

She spoke so softly, almost kindly. But too far away for that. Too lonely.

And she'd said 'we.'

"...You had a husband, you said," he realized. "What of him?"

"... He was to be locked away in a similar fashion, though less permanently." She shifted a little under her bindings, a faint rustling of bark, and spoke slowly.

"Though a recent transaction has led me to understand that my beloved ultimately chose escape from the regrets that plagued him. Opposite me, he chose to ensure that he no longer had to suffer his own mind."

Oh, dear. How unfortunate. What nightmares that couple might have offered.

And what a stupid, selfish creature the other half of it must have been, to abandon his wife to now bear them all alone. And to force her to suffer even more by choosing to die at his own hand. That was not the sort of nightmare that ever truly left a person. And to inflict it upon a goddess, who even diminished felt like home and hearth and sweetest sanctuary?

Good riddance, then, the Jester privately thought. Callous thoughts spared for some callous corpse.

"... I am sorry for your loss, my lady," he offered out loud.

"Your offer of pity is an unwelcome one," she intoned. Her voice was gentle, quiet, and cold like fine jewelry. "And I bid you cease pretending your propriety. I am no one's lady, now."

The Jester brightened.

"How very fortunate, then. For I happen to be just that: a no-one!" He waved his arms out in a flourish, fabric wings bouncing with the motion. "A jester is meant to be a mirror to reality, you see-- a funhouse reflection of polite society, and all the frightfully frivolous foolishness found therein."

He held up a finger, triumphant, and took a step forward.

"Ergo, I believe I definitively possess little enough identity of my own, that by your own words, I can call you 'my lady'."

Her silence was a bit different this time around. It wasn't contemplative, nor dismissive, nor even angry.

Only sad.

Silence and sadness. He stood watching it on her for only a second, and was struck by the urge to scream. He didn't. But how long must she have been living in only silence and sadness? It oughtn't matter to him, but she had such a lovely voice, and he bet her smile might be a thing that could light up the whole damned kingdom, should it ever grace the world again.

He couldn't imagine her laugh. Seeing her now, bound and bemoaned and bereaved, it was difficult to imagine that she even could.

But the Jester looked at her, and he bet it was a sound like bubbles and bells. He bet it was like coming home, like coming warm together under the covers and healing. He bet it could doom any poor fool hopelessly into her possession, heart and soul, with no effort on her part.

He needed to hear it. He needed to make her laugh. He was a clown, that's what he's for. He needed to hear her laugh.

"I've a riddle for you, my lady," he blurted, all in one breath. "Forgive the banality, my lady, but I promise I am rather good at those. I can sometimes be something of a riddle myself, you see."

He placed a hand over his heart. The Master would chide him for improvising like this-- the Jester was, admittedly, not terribly good at it. But practice makes perfect, does it not?

And either way, the Jester found his mouth was running just a bit faster than his brain, at the moment. Nothing for it but to go along for the ride, then.

"How many pieces does it take to put together a fool?" He peered up, trying to glean anything from her face. She seemed vaguely surprised that he'd spoken up so abruptly, at least. He held out a finger.

"Here are your hints. A big piece of him belongs to what he serves, and remains safely tucked away in its possession. One is held by a grave-eyed, broken toy soldier, who comes 'round to see him sometimes. One was taken by a quiet little shadow, who won it with force. One is found near the nimble warrior in rose-red garb, who eyes it rather rudely with distaste. And one is held by the land's fairest mourning damsel, who pulled him to her, by it, on strings of plant fiber."

The Jester had long since learned that he had a mysterious talent for oration, and it always served him well. No one would guess from his declarative diction that he'd no idea where he was going with this. And yet on he spoke.

"Those are not all of them, my lady, he's quite sure there is more to him than just those few shards. But perhaps, my lady, the answer to their number can be found in why those pieces in particular seem so very important.

Why is it, my lady, that the toy soldier fusses with him so? Why, my lady, did what the little shadow took hurt so horribly to give away, even if the trinket had always pained him to look at? Why does the rose-red warrior avoid him, my lady, and why should that disquiet him? Why, my lady, does the Master seem to have so much trouble deciding whether to laugh at the fool, or comfort him as if he were grieving?"

His hand trembled where he held it aloft, and the one at his heart now clutched the ruff of his costume like a lifeline, tight enough to poke holes. The other two, at some point, had wrapped around each other in a bruising grip. And the Jester smiled through it all, delivering his terrible joke of a riddle with a taut, warbling brightness in his voice.

"Why is it, my lady, that I know for a fact-- my lady-- that you, my lady, are the most beautiful creature that I will ever lay eyes on, even if I were to live for a hundred thousand years more? Why, my lady, why do I want--"

His voice finally broke on the last word. He hiccuped, and wrapped all his arms tight around himself in earnest, now, holding himself together. He bowed his head, not seeing how or if she had any reaction to him.

He took a few sharp breaths, until his words could again come out beyond a choke. The result was little more than a slow, pathetic rasp.

"...I can almost feel it. I do not know … I do not know it, but... I can…" a shuddering sigh, while his tongue searched for something just out of reach.

"You… My… my rhh… my..."

"I have given you the word. You do know it. Or else the chains around your mind are so strong that you will remain shielded from any core memories, no matter the reminders."

The Jester slowly looked up, and found that he still couldn't see her expression. He tried to blink away the tears to see a bit better, but made little progress beyond just making his eyes sting.

"... You said it…?"

"I did."

"... Tell me again. Please."

"... I do not know that it would be of any help, my Wyrm. You have accepted the Nightmare's call so thoroughly into yourself. You have given it your soul. What once beat for your people, your own dreams, and for me, cannot be heard under the beating of its loathsome Heart."

"Please," he repeated. He wanted to beg for so much more, but he had no idea what any of it was.

"... I was your Root, when you were my Wyrm. But the being I sense before me now, I do not know. I do not recognize any of the familiar light that once shone so beautifully within you."

"My Root," he breathed, mind buzzing, shoulders aching. "My Root. My… my Root. My… rh... my…"

"One defiled, who are you now?"

"...My... My what…? My…? What was I…?"

"...So indeed, then, he did take his own life."

"I… I had it, did I not…? I had… something... Hadn't I…? What was… My…?"

"Servant of the Nightmare. Tell me your name, that I may preserve it as the site of his grave."

Confused, dazed in scarlet fog, and barely processing anything beyond the thundering heartbeat beneath his mask, he had to think very very hard in order to obey her.

"...My kin call me as the Pale Jester. I… I serve for the Heart... And I play for the Master," he mumbled out, at length, feeling just a bit of strength returning.

"... Then go. Return to your play, and to what calls you to its domain. There is no sense in allowing yet another sacrifice to go in vain."

Slowly, legs numb, he stood up from where he'd again collapsed to his knees, and cradling his head. The haze beckoned him out, beckoned him home.

A voice that was like stained silk sheets, that was like a warm body pressed to his on a freezing night, that was like a lingering hand on his cheek, followed him in a vague echo.

"... My current state bars me from visiting any tomb of my own volition. So I thank you, wretched one, for allowing me this final opportunity to say goodbye to him. It is more than I ever would have hoped to have."

The Pale Jester shuffled out, lured by the gentle thrum underscoring the crooning of an accordion, that together scrubbed his mind mercifully blank for a time.

The first sober thought he had was about halfway to the surface. He remembered meeting someone unbelievably beautiful, and he remembered bits and pieces of their talk.

And he remembered trying to make her laugh, but instead, having made her cry. That pretty voice, and how it went thin and quavered, as she tried to keep it level. Low and all alone, with no comfort ever again to be offered. Lost to him.

His own heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

The one he served gentled it back together, threaded it with its own patchwork arteries and cauterizing flame, now finally taking care of it where he no longer could.

And the Jester felt fantastic.

( @cataegus-draws @cataegus )

( @a-mild-case-of-eccentricity )

Darkness.

Then… a light. A… white light?

The jester opens his eyes, suddenly wide awake. That’s… odd. The last thing he remembers was turning in for the night after a rather grueling performance. His tail was nearly sheared on one of his new buzzsaws. Perhaps a few adjustments are in order, he thinks idly.

But for now… where is he?

He looks around cautiously; a forest, it seems. Ancient, looming trees stretch above him for what feels like miles, casting dappled patterns of sunlight against the lush foliage below. They join together high above, creating a sort of sheltered dome. Flowers of every size and shade carpet the forest floor, swaying in a gentle breeze. This place radiates life, he can feel the strength of it thrumming in his core. In the quiet, he swears he can feel the space breathe.

The jester suddenly feels very, very small, but somehow in the best of ways. Like being held in the embrace of a loved one. It feels… familiar.

Surveying the rest of the room, he finally lays eyes on her. He doesn’t know how he missed her; she’s seated in the center of the garden, bound by vines but oozing elegance nonetheless. She is pristine, ethereal, and positively radiant, both literally and figuratively. She is the source of the soft white glow illuminating her hideaway. The jester is starstruck, speechless with the beauty of the being before him. He steps closer.

The woman raises her great head with her crown of branches, sitting upon her head like a halo. She had started at the sound of foliage rustling beneath the jester’s footsteps; she hadn’t heard such a sound for some time now.

“Hello? Who is there?”

Gracious, that voice, those eyes. Her shimmering blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight, but the jester feels his heart ache upon seeing how fogged over they appear, and how she struggles to stand with her restraints. Something deep within him whispers.

This is wrong. It’s not supposed to be this way.

“Hello?” She calls out again, louder this time. Her sights narrow onto his blurred form. “Ah, there you are. My apologies, my eyes are not what they used to be. Who are you, little one? How did you come by this place?”

He draws in a sharp, shaking breath. Touching his face beneath his mask, he’s startled to find his hand stained with black tears. The sight is beyond unsettling; the growing pit in his stomach becomes a void, threatening to engulf him completely. He raises his head, forcing a smile behind his painted visage.

“I am a jester with the Grimm Troupe, and I am afraid I do not know how I stumbled upon this oasis.” He spreads his arms with a painful laugh, more tears beginning to stream down his face, dripping past his mask. “What an odd situation we’re in, my Lady!–”

He freezes, jolting as if someone impaled a lance through his thorax.

M-my… my Lady? No, my... Rr… M-my R-Root… My Root…

The pain that shoots through his head is excruciating. He cries out as his upper set of limbs grip the edges of his mask; his weeping only serves to stain his hands further, irreparably. The lower set squeezes his middle, desperate for something solid to cling to. He can barely make out the frantic calls of the woman as she cries out for her “Wyrm” and strains against her bindings. Her cries drive the lance deeper into his heart, and he swears he feels his mask crack.

It’s that deafening crack that finally rouses him from his slumber; he bolts up in his cot with a scream. His face is damp with tears that only grow as the pain from his dream settles into reality. Grimm is bursting through his tent curtains before he can blink, rushing to his side as the smaller bug hunches over and cradles his head, struggling to subdue his pained gasps.

“Jester,” Grimm starts calmly, the barest hint of urgency in his tone betraying his worry. “You must calm down, I promise you’re alright. It was only a nightmare; it wasn’t real…”

“I-I…” the jester barely chokes out. “I f-felt her… M-my… I-I don’t understand, master… I-I don’t understand…”

The troupe master gazes at his jester with a gentle, pained look. Grimm knows. Of course he knows. But he cannot say, for the king’s sake.

He resigns himself to stroking the back of the jester’s skull, murmuring little nothings to try and calm him. When the smaller presses closer, Grimm allows him to crawl into his lap. He wraps him in his cloak, settling the jester against his warm chest.

–––

After many moments of soft words and gentle touches, Grimm finally manages to lull his jester back into a fitful sleep. He shifts in the other’s meager cot, settling onto his back; he might as well stay, he thinks. He’ll do his damndest to dissuade any further nightmares from his jester’s subconscious, even if it means losing sleep himself. He nuzzles the edge of the smaller’s mask. After all, Grimm reasons as he closes his eyes, no one likes a sad clown, now do they?

( @sweetdreams-hollowknight )

( @monomon-s )

The Pale Jester might not know much about the troupe, but he did know this: they traveled. Traveled far, and often, too. Grimm always told them it was places that ‘needed the Troupe’, though that was vague if you asked PJ. He knew he’d be there to entertain, of course, and help with the flame, as he had to. Part of being in the Troupe, essentially, was helping with the flame.

PJ also knew this: compared to other troupe members, he had not traveled many places. Maybe in comparison to the bugs that he saw in dying places, he could say that he’s been everywhere, but that would be a lie.

So, whenever the troupe traveled, he felt that odd ache of familiarity that he didn’t particularly enjoy. How could some foreign place be familiar, when he had so much yet to see of it?

And that familiar feeling didn’t ever go away.

When he was tasked with capturing flame from the kingdom below— how novel, a kingdom below ground— that ache, and feeling like he’d seen this all before did not leave, no matter how he tried to distract himself, and, when he reached where the flame was supposed to be, that tug on his mind only grew stronger.

A lovely garden, flushed with vibrant colors; greens, whites, blues, a whole spectrum of pretty colors that met him and made him feel just a little out of place in his stark red troupe attire. Everywhere he looked was beautifully alive, and yet somehow filled him with some terrible dread. How was this kingdom dying, when it contained areas which looked like this? Why did this feel so familiar, so comfortable, and yet so very unfamiliar and uncomfortable at the same time?

PJ didn’t get very long to dwell on it, not before something would pull him from his musing reverie. What looked like a root, white and winding, curled at his feet. Had that been there when he had stopped? When had he stopped? The white root trailed, and when he followed it, it only led to more and more, leading to the seeming heart of the garden and all of its greenery. He did his best not to step on any of them, even as it became harder and harder to do so, some distant part of him deemed it rude.

In the center of it all, a tree. Or, what looked like one. It was wearing some sort of sweater, which was odd if you asked him—

And then she turned and looked at him. He didn’t know how he knew that she was a she, but he knew. His heart stopped and all at once that familiarity-turned-dread turned into what felt a little bit like loss when she looked to him.

And she spoke.

And it felt like he could feel her pain.

“My wyrm?”

It was painfully familiar like he’d heard it a thousand times before, and yet he’d never been here before, never heard it before, couldn’t remember. He didn’t know how to respond. He might have formed some kind of response, but something cold and wet and horribly bitter was on his face and oh, he was crying, because liquid couldn’t get under his mask and yet, here he was, and she was crying too, a white root catching his tears, but nothing to catch her own.

The way she looked at him hurt, all of this did; these tears, seeing hers, the lingering feeling like she was mourning and that he was blind as to why. He wanted to reach out to her, to comfort her as she most dearly needed, because that was what she was doing for him and he felt like he needed to return such… affection. So much of him felt like he should know more, and his mind only drew up a blank, aching in the way he’d begun to find familiar.

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to say, but almost reflexively he stumbled and stepped forward, holding the stained root at his cheek like it was all he knew. And when he did his best to hug, he felt her return it, and the embrace felt like a certain kind of peace finally settling over him.

Distantly, deep within the nightmare realm, the Nightmare King realizes a slight oversight in his plans. The wyrm, in his old territory, in the garden. Where the wyrm’s wife lives. Where the wyrm will most certainly dredge up old memories. Ah.

( @darkautomaton @darkautodraws )

( @tornbutterflywings AND @confusedhost )

The leaves of the healthy brush blew lazily in the soft breeze, uncaring for the events that would transpire in the middle of the clearing. Light left bright splotches of colors splattering across the dirt flooring. The two in the clearing were locked in an intense gaze with the other. The gardens silent before a soft voice broke the silence, her words digging deep grooves in the jesters heart that left him more confused than anything else he could quite remember.

“I know you,” the woman he recognized whispered. “I know you, and I have missed you so much.”

She knelt down, pressing her head to his, hands coming up to curl around him. “I’ve missed you so very much, my wyrm.”

The white shelled bug felt roots curl around him in such a familiar way, as if calling out for him; as if searching for something that was lost long ago. He couldn’t place where these new, strange feelings were coming from, though tears slipped down his face. Absently, he recognizes that he should feel something more when looking at this odd creature.

Before he could stop himself, his hand had grazed her cheek, before he jumped in his shell and flinched away. The creature's expression shifts from a soft and happy smile to unreadable.

"I… Apologies, I do not think I know you-" His voice is a tad higher pitched than usual as he steps away from this strange creature.

“You are my wyrm,” she whispered, putting emphasis on a word he didn’t know, but recognized so clearly.

The Jester laughed, the sound echoing throughout the large clearing, as it was all he could do when faced with this idiocracy. “I am not a worm,” he said, ignoring the lump in his throat. “I am the jester to the Grimm Troupe, and that is what I’ve always been.”

The woman looked down upon him as if she could see through his soul. “And yet you are so familiar to me,” She whispered, pulling one of his arms into her palm. “You look much like my husband,” she explained, running a delicate hand over the fabric of his sleeve. “Four arms, like him. Your mask, like his.” Her voice could have lulled him to rest.

She pressed a finger to his crown. “A crown of horns.” She peered down at him, white eyes blank from any emotion. “Much like his.”

His migraine that had been just shy of being a bother, broke through the barrier.

"I am not your husband." He stated with a certainty he didn't feel, even as his throat tightened around the ball from before. Was he even breathing anymore? "I already told you! I am the jester of the Grimm Troupe, that is what I shall always be. It's what I have always been." He couldn't keep the distaste out of his voice as his eyes narrowed at the lady in front of him.

The look that crossed the White Lady's face made some part of the Pale Jesters' heart yearn to reach out and comfort her, yet after a moment the feeling seemed to be erased from existence. He pulled his arm out of her grip and stepped away from her. Every step away made his heart call out in pain as he kept one of his hands to his chest.

(The Jester didn’t like how he noticed the tension in her knuckles around her fist and felt a need to stop and please her. He didn’t like how he saw her lean forward and wanted to move to meet her, to cup her head in his hands and whisper something, like a small secret between them, like lovers would.

He didn’t like how he knew her without knowing her.)

He stopped, a ways away from her, yet close enough to feel too close. Close enough to talk.

“Your name,” he said, voice quiet.

This was a bad idea, this was a horrible idea, he should stop, he should stay away. Or tell the master. Or-

“You know who I am… So, out of curiosity, I demand you tell me who you are.” How strange of him to wonder. Very rarely did he care for another’s name. The troupe had little time for connections. It was as if a part of him thought that she knew a part of him that he, himself, did not.

And perhaps there was a part of him that wanted to listen to that little call.

Her voice was almost a breath of wind, all too soft yet noticeable nonetheless, “You have called me your White Lady." The name she gave him echoed in his head, burning him. Her eyes had a twinkle of hope, a soft shimmer, and below that, something deeper that the Jester couldn't place.

Her expression turned crestfallen when he had yet to speak. She sounded on the verge of tears, her voice shaking and oh so quiet in the wind that he almost didn't catch her words,"I... Oh, my love, whatever did he do to you? Why couldn't you have simply come to me instead?”

Any sort of sympathy the Jester held for her disappeared, eyes wide with hurt shock as his heart, beating side by side with the Nightmare heart pulsed with rage. “Come to you? For what? For assistance? For help? For freedom? To get me out of a situation that I am perfectly fine in? I do not need you,” The Pale Jester roared with a voice that felt less like his than ever and yet more like his than he could remember. “I do not need you. I do not know you! I have never met you before and I have never been here before-”

Lying, you’re lying, stop lying-

“All I need,” the jester hissed, words low, tired, forced. “Is my master.”

The white lady didn’t make a sound for a long moment.

The silence that fell over the clearing was suffocating as the Lady stared at him with what could only be described as disbelief and hurt. Her light eyes looked over what had become of the man she loved. She felt sick.

"Is..." A hard swallow,"...Is that what you truly believe, Pale one?" There was a harshness to her voice, the tone falling cold in a way that only put him on edge. She felt the sadness wash over her, however she couldn't show that here. Not yet.

No, The Pale Jester thought.

“Yes,” he said, voice leaving little room for argument. “I am of the Grimm troupe and I don’t-“ He choked on a sob, but pushed it down. He was a jester, and jesters do not cry. “I do not need anyone else.”

The white lady stood to her full height, and the Pale Jester froze as she towered over him. “Then why did you come to my gardens,” she took a step forward. “Why did you come to me...” The Jester took a step back, “if you do not need me.” his chest clenched with fear of what she might do, mind screaming at him to scramble away, yet he was frozen in fear.

The root stepped forward, softly cupping his face and leaning her face next to his own. Her soft voice, filled with pain and care, whispered into his ear,"Come back to me my wyrm." She closed her eyes tightly against the tears that threatened to escape.

She missed her husband, it was clear. From her soft tone that trembled, yet still held so much love, to the tight squeeze around the Jester’s mask, not enough to be painful, but from a need to hold on to something, someone. Even if it was just a scrap of the man she missed so dearly. Her palms curled around his face in such a familiar way. In a way that, at one point, must have filled someone with comfort, and yet all the Jester felt was fear.

He shuddered, trying to keep as still as possible. It was cold. He was cold in a way that felt so familiar, and yet it gripped him in ice claws and froze him to the core. “Please,” he whispered, taking a step back, a step away from her and her warm hands. “What’s wrong with me?” He bent down claws gripping the sides of his head. “Please...Please, I just want to know what’s wrong...”

The While Lady had taken some paces back, and her gaze had hardened.

If the king was cold before, then white flash of mortification that ran through him only served to make him freeze.

"That is for you to find out. Return to me when you are finished playing this game." And with that she was gone, and the hole that started worrying itself in his heart only widened. His gaze followed her retreating form without a word escaping him. He watched her walk away as tears raced down his face, and even the burn from the Nightmare Heart was not enough to warm his cold heart.

The pale jester tucked his head in, shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. (Not a sob, no, not a sob. Jesters do not cry.) It’s not funny, none of it is, and yet he cannot stop. His chest hurts as he cackles, he feels numb.

Still, he continues.

There’s nothing else for him to do, anyway.

( @jklpopcorn )

#Absolutely gorgeous chain #perfect 5/5 writer artist balance #hollowknight #hollow knight #telephoneknight #otherart #otherfic #fanart #giftcorner #absolutely heartwrenching #long post

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createandconstruct · 3 years ago

Note

can i ask about amarant coral? the monk in red himself~

Can you ask about Amarant Coral? *cracks fingers* Oh I insist that you do. Welcome to my Amarant Appreciation Post:

favorite thing about them: First off best thing about Amarant? His theme. The percussion and the guitar. It’s great and it captures him so well. People out here like “take Amarant out of the game he adds nothing.” EXCUSE ME? You remove the Amarant you remove the Amarant Theme my friend and that is something I do NOT vibe with.

least favorite thing about them: I wanna know more about him. Now Amarant doesn’t need a backstory or history in the game. In a sense, he already has one that connects him to Zidane and explains his motives and actions and eventual arc. But my issue is, Square never gave him anything else. If you look at Ultimania there’s additional lore about other characters, like Steiner for instance. You learn Steiner was a war orphan who was saved by the Pluto Knights - explaining his devotion to them. Amarant though? Square was like “uh... yeah he was born....? And then he uh got famous...? Idk then he met Zidane. You figure it out.” Square. I hate you. 18 years from his birth until he became “well known”. WHAT WAS HE DOING. WHY’D HE BECOME A SECURITY GUARD. WHAT WAS ON HIS RESUME. TELL MEEEE. Like, okay, what the actual in-game canon gives us on Amarant is sort of enough. He’s a purposely written mysterious “cool-guy” character so we’re given scraps to make him unknown but come on. In the published after-game canon, like Ultimania, we could have been given a bit more. He says he doesn’t remember anything about his origins or parents, but why. Was he another victim of Gaia’s wars? Probably. Was he born on a battlefield? Fighting for his life, living without comrades, taking scraps whenever he could? Was he betrayed when he was young? Is he a supposed to be a version of Zidane had he not been adopted into Tantalus by Baku??? These are questions I deserve answers to, Square.

favorite line: “’I can't just walk away. It goes against my nature...’ You're a real simpleton. Forget it, guys. There's no stopping this fool." I love this. Amarant figures Zidane out pretty quickly after Ipsen’s Castle. Zidane is hardheaded and also an actor. He acts cool and pretends his reasons for doing things are loose but when he’s decided something it’s always for a reason. You don’t need a reason to help people, but Zidane has his reasons for helping Kuja and while Amarant doesn’t give two shits what they are he knows Zidane won’t be stopped because, despite everything, Zidane saved a loser like him. Also this line “Tell me! Why didn't you kill me!?" Because I quote it all the time and it makes myself laugh. Amarant is such a drama queen and Zidane knows it. Zidane’s like “dude... what is your damage, it’s 5 pm on Tuesday in Madain Sari. I ain’t getting blood on my gloves cause you’re having a temper tantrum.” And then Amarant runs away to have an existential crisis. He’s 26 but compared to Zidane, he’s the real teenager with angst.

brOTP: I could talk about Zidane or Freya with Amarant but instead I’m gonna say the underrated dynamic of Amarant and Eiko (and also Vivi). Amarant with the kids is truly the greatest gift given by his presence in the game. Amarant has never known true suffering until he became a designated legal guardian of a group of minors. It also kills me how he’s the one to volunteer to carry Eiko and Vivi up the Iifa tree. He looks at Zidane and is like “you have seriously been the ‘adult’ of this group???”

OTP: Gotta say the Freya and Amarant dynamic. I really enjoyed their unlikely friendship in the game but then the content. The fan content. The Freya x Amarant fans out there, you win. Ya got me. You captured me and I am now imprisoned by their banter and begruntled allies to lovers story. Even if they’re not romantic I love them together and really wish the game gave us more of them. But even Lani and Amarant together are valid, though I prefer them as butting head bros. Not much content for my girl Lani out there either, she deserves more.

nOTP: Nothing I can think of. I tend to like platonic pairings for Amarant. The dude needs friends because he can barely define the word friendship.

random headcanon: Before Zidane returns at the end of the game Amarant wanders around a bit, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t feel any place with the others in Alexandria, Burmecia, or Lindblum. I imagine he goes off on his own for a bit like before but this time he’s not after Zidane or a fight. Instead he’s got no particular destination. Yet he somehow always finds himself running into people just like him - or the old him - friendless lonely people who are looking for a fight. He doesn’t go out his way to find these folks he simply runs into them and decides he might as well knock some sense into them. He does however make it his business to go after any murmur of people hatching any ideas of going after the far off little village on the Lost Continent. The home of the genomes and black mages. They were so helpless, so weak that anyone who’d want to mess with them is pathetic in Amarant’s book. Until Zidane returns, no one has the chance to even look at the Black Mage Village the wrong way because in the shadows Amarant lurks, making damn well sure of that.

unpopular opinion: I kinda love that he’s just there for most of the game? While I agree he gets the short end of the stick in the same way as Freya, not receiving additional individual character spotlight (which could have very well been supplied through discoverable lore in the world/npcs or through sidequests) I never considered his “standing off to the side” as a detriment to his character.

Many would probably agree that Amarant always felt like a bit of a parody of the loner character, or at least the stereotype of the loner character. Amarant is so easily paralleled with Squall and Cloud’s surface-level attitudes because his dialogue always felt like something to poke fun at. As the player we’re supposed to align with Zidane’s way of thinking and how he views Amarant. When Amarant loses to Zidane and pretty much grits his teeth and goes “KILL ME,” along with Zidane we’re supposed to kinda raise our brow at him and go “...really, dude?”

Amarant’s a character introduced as an antagonist who has more in common with the power hungry villains of the game. Like many of the characters in FFIX, Amarant is in search of purpose in life, which he has never found, because he was always looking in the wrong places - in places of violence and power. Very toxic-masculinity of him. Amarant is “cool” on an aesthetic level but in reality he’s the polar opposite of cool in terms of what FFIX states about the need for others to be intertwined in your experiences so that you can live a full life.

I sort of love that he’s like a grumpy pitball following a 16 year old and his friends around. Then he sits in the corner when they all meet up and discuss current events acting like he doesn’t care (not to mention he casually walks as everyone is running as fast as they can to escape Terra - made me laugh cry on my first playthrough) He is “just there” but that’s because he has no where else to be, no where else to go, he’s a man without a home. And until Zidane offers his hand, at the point where Amarant is most willing to take it at Ipsen’s Castle, he’s not truly a party member. He IS an outsider for almost the entire game but at Ipsen Castle he joins the party, becomes a comrade, and decides he’ll allow himself to change paths and start a life where he has friends and lives, as well as fights for them. Which is why after that moment, Amarant finally has a victory pose.

song i associate with them: I was scratching my head for so long trying to think of a song or track that had Amarant vibes until it hit me. Outskirt Stand by Tsukasa Tawada (from Pokemon Colosseum). Amarant is so chill, he’s not a bombastic guy, so he needs a theme that drops me in the rocky open desert of the Lost Continent like I’m just lumbering around looking for a monkey-tailed menace. Some other Amarant tunes: Pyrite Town, The Under, Snagem Hideout tracks from Pokemon Colosseum. This post is just an elaborate call to action for everyone to listen to the Pokemon Colosseum soundtrack. Tsukasa Tawada is so great and he has a YouTube. Check him out.

favorite picture of them:

Yoshitaka Amano’s Salamander Coral. I love him. He had too much power.

Also everything drawn by @crispy-ghee. Everything. I will think of this Comic forever until I die. Tattoo it on my flesh. The banter, the dynamics, the post-game content, the Zidane prince-consort outfit, the new Amarant outfit, the stuck-in-the-same-place relationship him and Freya have. Perfect. Go read it and consume Crisipy’s stuff. And also check them and their current art out, they just consistently get better and better. Here’s a first panel preview of my fav comic. Read it.

@hannahlady‘s Amarant art and their Freya/Amarant art is just ugh. *Chef’s Kiss* Here is another preview because you should go look at it.

Here’s a piece that deserves so much more love by @snackage. I LOVE how they drew Amarant. Here’s a little preview. It’s SO GOOD

Anyway TL;DR: Amarant is love and life and you’ll have to pull him from my little gremlin hands.

#asks #scriberat #amarant coral #ffix #final fantasy ix #amarant #final fantasy 9 #freya #amarant x freya #lani #zidane tribal #eiko carol

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write-orflight · 4 years ago

Text

Galileo: Chapter 5

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader, enemies to friends to lovers trope

Rating: M

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: Light smut, 18+

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N is an astronomer with her head constantly in the stars. But when a serial killer is threatening NASA’s top scientists, she is left in the protective custody of a man who’s gravitational pull threatens to pull her back down to earth.

A.N Unedited because i’m sleepy. There’s a fic I read when I first joined the fandom that inspired some of this chapter. i can’t remember the name but if you do, please tell me so I can credit. Comment on this chapter only or message to be on taglist please.

Chapter 5: Saturn

There was a rare occurrence that happens sometimes in Space where a Planet will tilt off its axis and disrupt the order of things in the galaxy forever. Even though it hasn’t happened yet, it doesn't make it not possible. You had always thought about that phenomenon and how you never quite understood how so many scientists just blindly believed in that possibility with no proof. It wasn’t until that dance with Spencer that you believed in it. If you were the galaxy, that dance was the tilt in your axis.

Nothing could quite be the same again.

It seemed that Spencer himself was the disruptor.

Since that day, everything between the two of you was different. It was simpler. It was too easy to have conversations, to laugh at each other's jokes, to spit inane useless facts at each other. But it also became too easy to melt at Spencer’s bright smile, too easy to stare at his hands as he helped you with your math sometimes, too easy to flush whenever he paid you a compliment on your work.

Too easy to fall in love with him.

You didn’t want to think about that but you couldn’t help it. At first, you wanted to chalk it up to you not knowing how to differentiate your feelings. Maybe you just thought you were in love with him because he was the first guy to be nice to you since Jonathan but as the days went on you knew that to not be the case. None of this felt like how you were with Jonathan. With Spencer, it just felt easy. Just felt right.

It was the weekend so you had off work. Before you would always end up going into work anyway and getting some extra logs in but now you liked staying in and hanging out with Spencer. Right now the two of you were walking in the plaza near your home, fresh cups of coffee in hand. Spencer, at first, did not want to be out but after some convincing (which was just you threatening to leave without him, which he did not like) he was all for joining you out. The two of you stopped in a bookstore and you made a beeline for the astrology section. You hear Spencer scoff when you pick up a book to look through it. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“What?” You say.

“Astrology, really? Aren’t you a scientist?”

“Yea, an astronomer. I love Space, so while Astrology isn’t a proven science. It’s fun to think the stars have a say in what kinda person you are.” You shrug. “When’s your birthday?”

“October 28th.”

“Of course you’re a Scorpio.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me. Astrology isn’t real.”

“You must be real fun at parties.” You roll your eyes.

“Well, what’s your sign?”

“I’m a Cancer. Did you know that water signs are the most compatible? Especially Scorpios and Cancers.”

Spencer laughs out loud at that. You turn looking him in the eye. “What’s funny?” you say.

“That itself doesn’t tell you that astrology is bullshit?” He laughs. You narrow your eyes at him. “I mean, us, compatible? It’s funny.”

You try. You try so very hard not to look hurt by his words, you know Spencer’s a profiler and will see right through it. And he does by the sympathetic look he gives you.

“You’re right, maybe it is bullshit.” You say, putting the book down instantly. “Let’s go home.”

You and Spencer don’t talk the whole walk home, in fact you don’t talk when you get there. You’re about to just retreat to your room when you feel a hand circle your wrist.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I hurt your feelings.” He says.

“You didn’t hurt my feelings.” You lied. “I’m just with you all the time. Sometimes I just need a minute alone. Is that okay?”

He lets go of your wrist. “Of course, I’m sorry.”

You nod and retreat to your room, blowing a heavy breath as you fell into your bed. Might as well take a nap. You thought as you let sleep take you over.

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

Long, slender fingers found their way into your hair and yanked roughly. You couldn’t help the soft whimper that came behind it. You felt the lips that were sucking hard bruising marks into your neck smirk slightly. His other hand trailed your body lightly until they met their final destination at your sex. You gasp loudly when the digit rubbed soft circles around your clit.

“Are you going to be good for me?” He asked, you nodded dumbly before moaning out loud when the first digit found its way inside you. Spencer smirked at you. “Look at you. I’ve barely touched you and you’re this wet for me. You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He asked, you nodded and gasped again as he found that spot inside you. “Hmm, I don’t think you want it enough baby.”

You’re shaking your head immediately. “No. Ple-please fuck me.” You stutter. “I’ll be good, I swear.”

The smirk he gives you is almost devilish. “Alright, baby. I’ll take care of you.” He says as you feel member pressing up against your sex--

You wake up to the smell of something burning and Spencer shouting expletives from what you assumed was the kitchen. You groaned, frustratedly. Since that day your mom came to visit, you dreamed of Spencer almost constantly. Today was no different. You couldn’t escape him in your waking hours and now it seemed you couldn’t even escape him sleeping.

You hop out of bed and run to the kitchen. The sight before is Spencer frantically waving the billowing smoke that was coming from your oven. You run to open your window and turn the oven fan on. You both look at the pan that had something that couldn’t even be described as food anymore by the degree of which it was burned. Spencer looked at you guiltily.

“You seemed upset so I thought I’d make you dinner but I was reading and I lost track of time. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You smile at him. “Thank you for thinking of me but I wanted chinese tonight anyway, sound good?” You say, he nods gratefully.

Later the two of you are sitting at your kitchen table, eating chinese out of the takeaway containers. You were talking about nothing and everything until the topic came to College. You talked about how freshman year you did the whole partying thing before quickly finding out it wasn’t your scene and keeping to yourself for the rest of your college career. Spencer told you he never went to any parties in college.

“You never went to any parties?!” You asked, shocked.

“Well, I was 12. No one was really scrambling to invite me to frat parties.”

“So you didn’t do any traditional college games? No beer pong? No ‘Never Have I Ever’?” You ask, Spencer shakes his head. That’s when you get a fantastic idea. You get up and look in the cabinet above your stove which is where you kept your liquor and pulled out a bottle of Jameson. Spencer sees this and immediately shakes his head.

“No.”

“Aww, come on. Let’s play Never Have I Ever.” You smile. “If you’ve done the thing you drink.”

“I don’t want to play a remedial drinking game.”

You think for a second. “How about this? You’re a profiler, right? And I like to think I’m a little observant so how about this. We’ll take turns making assumptions about the other if the person is right, the other drinks and if they’re wrong, you drink.”

“I don’t know… it probably isn’t wise for me to be drinking. I’m supposed to be watching you.”

“It’s not like we go anywhere that’s not here anyway.” You say. “Plus, if you're good at your job, you’ll hardly have to drink.” You throw a pouty face on for good measure. Spencer rolls his eyes.

“Fine.” He says standing up and snatching the bottle from you, walking to the living room. You giggle at him before grabbing two glasses to follow him out. “Just so you know, it’s wrong to peer pressure people.” He says.

“Well, what’s a college drinking game without peer pressure.” You laugh.

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

“Who’s starting?” You say as you watch Spencer pour your glass. The two of you are settled on opposite ends of your small couch, facing each other, your knees just almost touching.

“You can.” Spencer says. “I want to see if you're actually observant.”

“Okay.” You say, sitting up slightly at the challenge. “You’re an only child.” You say. Spencer raises his eyebrows at you, shocked you actually got something right, but drinks anyway.

Spencer looks at you for a second. “You have an older sibling you are not close to.”

You drank. “Yea I’ve got an adoptive older brother. There’s nothing wrong, it’s just he was already much older when I was born and we have nothing in common, other than our parents.” You look at Spencer for a second. “I wanna say divorced parents, but only raised by one.”

“You’re a lot more observant than I thought.” Spencer says as he drinks. “Dad left when I was 10.” He says offhandedly.

The game goes like this for a while, both of you confirming your beliefs of each other. You find out about Spencer’s mother's illness, Spencer learning you smoke when you’re stressed. Spencer was winning though, not that you had a problem with that as you wanted to drink, hence why you suggested the game. You were giving him a little bit of a run for his money. It was now your turn and the alcohol in your system must’ve turned off your filter because you say.

“You’re a virgin.”

You pause for a second waiting for him to drink when you realize he’s waiting on you to. You widen your eyes in shock but take your drink anyway. “I thought Maeve died before you got to meet her fully.”

Spencer nods. “She did.” He says, “The two don’t correlate.” He says, like it's obvious.

You hadn’t been expecting that. “You just didn’t strike as the hit it and quit it type.”

“And I’m not, but sometimes things are just temporary.” He says looking at you, deeply in your eyes. “You were upset today, in the shop because I said we weren’t compatible.”

You solemnly take a drink. “Why?” He asks.

“Hey, that’s not a part of the game.” You say.

“Please?” He adds.

You sigh. “I don’t know… I guess, it seemed like the idea of being with me repulsed you. And that was upsetting.”

Spencer looks at you with the most intense look in his eye. You had never seen that look before and you were glad you hadn’t because it was so heated that it was melting you where you sat. “The idea of being with you…” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. “Doesn’t repulse me. Trust me.”

You knew you weren’t the best at social cues sometimes but that seemed like a pretty big one. You move closer to him, so that your faces were close but someone would still have to make that final move. You realize it’s your turn, so you think, Fuck it...

“You want to kiss me right now.” You say, looking Spencer in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just takes a slow swig from his glass, eyes never leaving yours. He sits his glass down on the table next to him before saying.

“You want me to kiss you.”

You sip your drink, looking him right back in the eyes. You sit your glass down next to his and Spencer's hand catches your wrist on its way back. Before you can even get a good look at him, his lips are crashing on to yours. You groan in surprise before melting into it, your hands immediately going for his hair. His massive hands almost engulf your face as he tries to pull you impossibly close to him. He groans as he licks into your mouth, both of you tasting like the Jameson you had just drunk but there was also something under it that was just pure Spencer. You push him back until you are fully seated in his lap. His hands go immediately to your waist. Feeling risky, you experimentally grind your hips, causing Spencer to groan and grip you tighter. His hands slide up your shirt slightly, you moan at that.

“Fuck-” Spencer says as you suck bruises down his neck. “Fuck, w-we’ve gotta stop.”

You pull back. “Why?” you ask.

Spencer swallows, pushing you off his lap. “There’s this thing called transference. You only want me right now because I’m protecting you. You don’t like me.” He says. “We don’t like each other.”

You realized what Spencer was trying to say. You were both drunk and there, he didn’t really want you. It was being stuck together for so long that was making him attracted to you. You were foolish to think a guy would actually want you.

“You don’t like me.” You say. “And I read this situation wrong again. God, I’m an idiot!”

“I didn’t say that, Y/N-”

“No, you’re right. You only kissed me because I’m what you’ve been stuck with for weeks. You don’t like me. I can’t blame you no guy ever does.”

“No, Y/N, I just didn’t want to take advan--”

“I need to smoke. I’m going out.” You say, grabbing. “Alone.”

“Y/N, that’s not safe and you know it. Let me go with you.”

“I think we both need to be away from each other. I’ll only be out front. Please.” You plead to him.

Spencer doesn’t say anything so you take that as your cue to go. You pull your pack and lighter out the kitchen draw and stomp out the door. As soon as you get in front of the building, you light the first cigarette as stray tears fall down your face. You were such an idiot to think someone like Spencer would want you. Sure you were both smart but you were arrogant and spiteful. Spencer was the sweetest person ever when you got to know him. It was stupid to think there was a world the two of you would work.

You frustratedly put your cigarette out and stand to head back inside to probably embarrass yourself some more when you feel it.

The hard slam to the back of your head knocking you out cold.

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

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amysteriousmessenger · 3 years ago

Text

‘As The World Falls Down’ - ‘Danger’ Ray x Reader Fic

Based lightly on ‘As the world falls down’ from Labyrinth, Reader attends a midnight ball, but all is not as it seems.

Word count: 3.4K Rating: SFW CW: Elixir, drugs, cult behaviour, creepy Ray, forced Elixir Reader: Gender neutral Disclaimer: this isn’t how I actually think the Elixir would affect someone but I wanted to keep the fairytale aspect to the story!

Reblogs appreciated!! <3

_______________________

‘You’ll drink it, right? And then you can stay here with us forever. We’ll never have to be apart.’ Ray said, the blue bottle sitting between his half-gloved hands. He seemed nervous, but eager for you to have it. You’d already told him that you wanted to stay at Magenta and be a part of Mint Eye with him, hence he had brought you the Elixir that everyone was required to take to cleanse themselves. You wanted to stay, but you had seen the effect that the liquid had on Ray, but you were a little bit tentative to actually put it to your lips.

You’d grown such tenderness and genuine affection for Ray, and you were leaving behind a life that you didn’t really care for, so why would you not want to stay in Mint Eye? You nodded, reaching out your hands to take the bottle from him. He smiled, but the smile did not match the emotion in his eyes. There was a sweetness to his lips, but an intensity and darkness to his gaze that was… unsettling to pinpoint.

‘A-ah… It won’t hurt, right?’ You asked, taking a seat on the side of your bed. The colour reminded you of those sugary isotonic drinks that you saw teenagers drinking outside of schools or on the weekend, but you were certain that it was not the same liquid.

‘Maybe just a little…’ He started, ‘but I’ve flavoured it to taste like peaches, just for you. You’ll be happy with us, a place where you can truly belong. Don’t you want to stay with me? To feel held?’

You did. Though you’d come here by chance, you’d found people who longed to feel loved and needed. The life you’d left behind was nothing compared to the one that could lay ahead for you, and yet, why were you so scared to take the final plunge?

‘Okay…’ You took the heart-shaped bottle from him. You watched Ray as you uncorked the bottle, feeling somewhat as though you were about to drink the poison from a fairytale or a movie. But of course, surely this Elixir was nothing like that. Ray wouldn’t do that. That smile of his meant no harm. He cared for you and wanted you to stay with him at Magenta.

The first thing you noticed after opening the bottle was the heavy scent of peaches, Ray really must have poured a lot of nectar into the Elixir to cover up its original smell, which burned your eyes. Perhaps smelling it wasn’t the best idea. Perhaps drinking it wasn’t the best idea. You were hesitant, but it was the only way you would get to stay with him. You took one more glance at Ray, who stood in front of you smiling in all his princely attire, before pressing the bottle to your lips.

Instantly, the Elixir overwhelmed all of your senses. Though it was seeped in peach flavourings, it did little to cover the burning sensation it left in your mouth and throat. It was like drinking nail varnish remover, or pure gasoline. It hurt. You choked, spluttering slightly into the back of your hand.

Ray handed you a glass of water, smoothing out your hair and assuring you that the pain will pass. It was all part of joining Mint Eye. You had to purify yourself of the person you were before you entered Magenta. It had to happen in order to find true salvation with the Savior. You continued to choke on the liquid as you felt it hit your stomach. Did Ray… really drink this every day? How was he even still standing? No wonder he looked so ill all of the time.

The longer it was in your stomach, the worse you started to feel despite Ray’s reassurances that you would be okay.

‘Ray, I don’t feel too good, I think I’m gonna…’ You barely finished the sentence before your head started to spin. Your eyelids fluttered shut in an attempt to ground yourself and focus on sitting upright, but to little avail. You began to fall back onto the bed, but your head never hit the pillow, so that the last sensation you felt before the slumber took over you was the sensation of Ray’s hand supporting your neck and shoulders.

‘I have you, my Princess. I’ll never let you fall…’ He whispered as you began to lose consciousness. He mumbled something else that you couldn’t quite make out, but it sounded awfully like ‘For anyone else.’

You woke up, or at least you think you did. Nothing was real, and yet, it had to be. You were already on your feet, being guided down the maze of corridors. Everything was a daze, and it felt as though you were dreaming, yet you could have sworn that the footsteps you were taking felt undeniably real. Illuminated only by the cloaked men carrying candles, you caught a glance of yourself in a mirror on the wall and gasped. You hadn’t really had the chance to process much since regaining your consciousness. It hadn’t occurred to you that the clothes you fell asleep in were not the ones you had woken up in.

The dress was huge: white and crystallised. It was something from a fairy-tale, beautiful from everyway you turned. As soon as you realised you were the one wearing it, you couldn’t believe you had missed it in the first place. It took up the entire lower half of your vision with its endless layers of silk and satin. You paused at your reflection, trying to take in as much of the detail as you could in the dim lighting. The sleeves were great cream-puffs of fabric and the tight corset held your torso rigidly in place. At any other time, you might have complained about the confines of a corset, but it felt as though it was holding you together as you lost grip on everything else around you. The dress was somewhat bridal, but the princess aesthetic far outshone that of a matrimony. You carried your eyes upwards, giggling slightly as your face warped in the mirror and you pawed at the heavy necklace that sat over your collarbones.

Your hair had been done too, littered with small star pins which sparkled against the mirror. Those weren’t yours, you didn’t own anything like that, so how had you come to get them? In the haze of half-consciousness, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you reached a wavy hand up to tap your fingertips along the hair pins, as though to make sure that they were really there. They certainly felt real, but nothing felt real. The textures were all wrong, the colours too bright. There were so many of them and they were so beautiful that you wished you could take them out of the dream with you whenever you woke up.

A cough resonated from behind you, it was the cloaked Believers who had been leading you through the corridors. They did not raise their eyes to meet you, but stared downwards as the one on the left said; ‘Your presence is greatly anticipated.’

‘Who?’ You asked, bewildered as to the fact they were talking to you. For some reason, you had assumed that they couldn’t speak. Were they real?

‘Yours.’ The other one deadpanned.

‘Me? Mine?’ You responded, confused.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh.’ Well, they must have been real! You stumbled slightly over the front of the dress as you moved to follow them. You hadn’t even thought to ask where you were going. Really, it hadn’t even occurred to you that there was a destination, you had simply found yourself walking with them and continued on the journey they had been leading you on.

They brought you to a pair of heavy, ornate doors. Some thought lost within your brain told you that you recognised the door, but you couldn’t find the connecting memory to remember where the doors led to. You attempted to ask them but found that your reverie had taken your voice. You swallowed thickly and remained silent until the door opened. They ushered you in with a ‘For Paradise’ before leaving.

The sounds of life were the first thing to reach your diluted senses. Bursts of music unlike those you had heard within Mint Eye before reached your ears. It was rich, elegant music only achieved with live instruments and talent. It was overwhelming to have so many of your senses assaulted at once, so it took a few moments to gather your bearings. Your eyes began to focus on the surroundings and you slowly realised you were in Magenta’s throne room. Yet, you had never seen so many people gathered in here. The room of people seemed to dance and spin, mingling in their cliques and couples. Masks of all told tales of trickery, of lust, wealth, and status but few bore of identity or name. There were so many masked faces, with each masquerade domino covered in a thin layer of black crushed velvet which absorbed any of the light cast upon it. You were the only one without a mask, yet you had not woken up with one so you could not be to blame for the feeling of exposure. At least, that was what you told yourself as each masked face followed your shaky steps.

A blonde woman smiled at you, offering you her hand. Her mask was slightly different, your eyes were a little too fuzzy to make it out, but it looked as though she had a little decorative side pieces and sequins, setting her apart from the other guests. You knew her, but you could not place exactly how in that moment. Her warm smile made you want to trust her, so you had no reservations in taking her outstretched hand and following her lead. The blonde woman pulled you through the crowds as they parted for her with each step she took. They parted even before she got near to them, making sure she had plenty of space to walk through. You had to watch your feet as they walked so you didn’t stumble over the both of you, consciously kicking the front of the dress so the material didn’t drag along the floor.

‘Ray… You shouldn’t leave her lost like this. I don’t want to see my lambs running astray.’ The blonde woman said as she suddenly stopped walking.

‘You’re right, my Savior… It won’t happen again.’

That voice. Despite your delirium, you knew that voice. Ray.

You had no control over your own movements but watched as the woman moved your hand from hers to Rays. She seemed satisfied with the exchange and, before returning to the party, added; ‘See to it that it doesn’t.’

‘Y-you look beautiful. I chose your dress myself; I hope it is to your liking.’ He stuttered slightly, though tried to feign the confidence of his Prince Charming aesthetic. You followed his voice upwards until you reached his face and notice that he was also wearing one of the black masks. Like the blonde woman, Ray’s domino was a little different to the others: it was the same black velvet but this time it was stitched with the same silver thread that adorned your dress. The small stitches swirls along the right-hand side of his mask, occasionally catching the light when he turned.

He looked at you with such intensity that your felt your heart begin to race. Cinderella had found her Prince.

You opened your mouth to try to reply to Ray, but your voice had yet to return so no noise actually managed to make its way past your lips. He smiled, seemingly understanding the fact you couldn’t speak. Perhaps that was why he was smiling.

You noticed that the music had changed, and people had started to dance in couples with one another. Ray seemed to notice it too, but he did not look surprised. If anything, he seemed expectant. Ray turned and picked up a small flurry of flowers from the table behind him. Oh, what was the word for that? A cottage…? College…? Corsage? Corsage! You were glad to have found the correct word as Ray tentatively slid the flowers onto your wrist and tightened the ribbon. He hummed along to the new song, watching with pride as he watched you inspect the flowers.

‘I chose them from the garden just for you. Would you like to know what they are? These are red roses, which symbolise longing and desire. Those ones are Jonquil, they are like very small Daffodils and there are many of them as My Savior favours Daffodils, so I keep them in the garden. They mean reciprocation of affection. I find them rather sweet; they grow in clusters and yet… they yearn for love…’ He trailed off, lightly tapping the petal. ‘Finally, these ones are yellow Hyacinth, in Floriography the meaning differs depending on the colour, but these ones… They mean jealousy.’

Ray didn’t really give you the time to mull over the meanings he had told you before he once again swept you up with a different conversation.

‘My Princess, might I have this dance?’ Ray bowed, smiling with one arm crossed over his chest in a princely manner. You nodded, giggling at a somewhat over-dramatic curtsey you had attempted to do. My, what an idyllic dream! You didn’t wake to wake up, reality would never be as sweet.

The Ray you knew was never usually so calm, collected. You knew him as a nervous, over exhausted, and a little bit flustered. The Ray of your dreamy reverie was more calculated in his movements.

Ray’s gloved hand took your bare one and the other slipped around your waist. You’d never attempted to ballroom dance, but little mattered in an illusion such a this, so it wouldn’t matter if you were to miss a step or two. You placed your hand over Ray’s shoulder and lifted the arm he was holding to match his stance.

There's such a sad love Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel Open and closed Within your eyes I'll place the sky Within your eyes

A space parted for the two of you on the dancefloor as you noticed people seemed to move for Ray in the same manner that they did for the blonde woman. Ray seemed a little bit nervous to lead, but his grip on your hand told you that he was determined to keep you in his arms regardless of whether he knew the steps confidently or not. Knowing Ray, he had memorised them again and again.

Through his mask, his blue eyes were dedicated to your face, neck, and the enveloping of your hand and his. It was as though he couldn’t get enough of the sight of your hands intertwined like that together. You felt the hand on your waist begin to guide you gently as he took one step forward, then another back: pulling you with him in beat to the music.

You lost yourself to your thoughts and to the music. He looked like a prince and- did he say he had picked your dress himself? He had dressed you like a princess. It seemed fitting, since he already claimed you to be one, and had decorated your room as though you really were one. His own personal Princess. You had to be dreaming, nothing that felt so beautiful could ever truly be real. You had to wake up at some point or another.

There's such a fooled heart Beatin' so fast In search of new dreams A love that will last

After a moment, you had to snap yourself out of your own thoughts and focus on being led. Ray had indeed memorised the steps to the dance, and apparently had memorised your steps too since he guided each movement of yours, possessing your body in the dance as though it was one with his own.

He spun you around, grinning as he watched you spin again and again, as though you were just a small Ballerina in a decorative music box: dancing on command whenever the box was opened. Ray pulled you in to a dip, holding on to your back and not really letting you support yourself, which you did not mind. It was hard to control your own weight in dreams, everything felt so weightless and floaty that you somehow praised your own illusion for making everything seem so realistic. Within your heart I'll place the moon Within your heart

Slowly, your stomach began to churn. Maybe in your dream, you were still not one for dancing. You felt as your breathing got a little heavier by the moment as the colour started to drain away from the room. People were no longer dancing happily in beat as they had once done, they stood; scared and tense, watching as you turned to face them one by one. They were masked and cloaked, for sure, but they were not enjoying the party. They were moving closer.

The grand music you had heard was no longer playing, and the weightlessness you felt turned to breathlessness as you felt the true tightness of the corset around your waist. The heaviness of so many layers of satin, lace, and silk grounded you to the floor and made it impossible to move, let alone run, like your feet were willing you to do. Cinderella would not leave the ball tonight.

You had to ask Ray, he wouldn’t lie to you… Would he? This was your dream; you could control what happened! Why was it turning into a nightmare?

As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you

‘R-Ray… What’s going on…?’

Ray’s face suddenly changed. He broke off the dance and stood still for a moment, watching as you tilted your head in confusion and a glimmer of fear. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the same blue liquid you had drank before falling asleep. You shook your head, not wanting to feel the sickness that came with such a commitment. He seemed both disappointed and dissatisfied with your reluctance. You couldn’t stop the shaking that had started, heavy tremors that wracked your body to the bone.

‘Ray… did you not use the correct dosage? See, look how the poor child suffers. You don’t want to make her leave, do you Ray?’ The same blonde woman from earlier said. You frantically turned, looking to find her face, but she was just a faceless voice in the blurring crowd.

‘No, my Savior.’ Ray said, grabbing one of your wrists. He didn’t squeeze tighter than necessary, but it was more than apparent that you were not escaping his grip any time soon. There was a desperation to it.

‘Then do it like I instructed you.’ She said. Ray swallowed and nodded, popping open the cork to the bottle with his freehand and pressing it against your lips.

Every thrill is gone Wasn't too much fun at all

It took a moment of coughing and spluttering for the wrongs to right themselves again, as Ray took the bottle away from your lips. The overwhelming flavour of peaches filled all of your senses and choked you. Whoever said that peaches were a symbol of family and unity had never taken a bite of one so infected. The sweetness was a danger in itself, it hid the darkness laying within. Sugar-coating it. You hadn’t noticed the burn of the Elixir as much this time, probably since you weren’t really drinking it. It fell down your open throat and pooled as poison into your stomach.

‘You’ll be happy with us, my Princess…’ He repeated as you held your throat and coughed. You were dizzy, so dizzy. The room seemed to spin and, if it were not for Ray’s chest, you would have fallen forward onto the ground. You wheezed onto him form, squeezing your eyes shut until the pounding in your chest and head began to even themselves out.

But I'll be there for you As the world falls down

When your eyes opened once more, the colour returned to the room and the music resonated throughout each nerve ending in your body. The room was alive once again and you could feel it. Ray was looking at you and smiling. You were still dreaming; the clock had not yet struck Twelve.

Falling As the world falls down

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger x reader #saeran #saeran choi x reader #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger reader insert #mystic messenger hcs #mystic messenger hc #mystic messenger self insert

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