#writing fic in my head about this as we speak. it truly helped heal so much so fast for me and i want that for the grant-nash's

[mycenaae]

when my house burned down, my mom and stepdad showed up with clothes for my dad and stepmom and toys for my siblings. my friends threw me a surprise party and put together photo albums for me to replace the ones i'd lost in the fire. our neighbours shielded us from prying media. we rebuilt the house on the same piece of land. anyway all to say that i can't wait to see the 118 extended family do all of that for the grant-nash family.

[i-can-read-to-him]

The Wesper Fic Club's Author Spotlight is a post series that aims to feature two to three fic authors a month, randomly selected from a pool of names put forth on our server. The authors are then asked to answer three interview questions, select up to five of their fics for us to feature, and finally, recommend three fics by others in the fandom.

(Note: Our spotlighted fics are not limited to Wesper, though they tend to be a central pairing in most of our authors' featured works.)

This week, we are putting a spotlight on Elias's writing!

Socials: @starwritebrekker (Tumblr) | starlightwrite (AO3) | starwritecos (TikTok) | wellelwrites (Instagram)

❀

Part One: Author Interview

Q: What’s your favourite fic you’ve written for this fandom?

A: Do Us Part! It’s my first time writing a modern AU and I’m loving the challenge of finding modern day equivalents to the Crows world.

Q: When did you first start writing? What keeps you going today?

A: I’ve been writing stories since elementary school, earliest I can remember is second grade (seven years old). What keeps me writing is how much writing feels like a release. I’m not very good at speaking what’s going on in my head (see: neurodivergent), and writing it out helps me comprehend my own thoughts more and it helps me communicate my thoughts much better. It is my favorite form of expression.

Q: Who is your favourite character? What do you love about them?

A: Kaz Brekker. This boy is the embodiment of a person in survival mode for most of their life and not truly understanding what it is to come out of it. The world has hardened him but inside him, despite his best efforts, there is still that hope. That heart.

Q: Have you had a chance to interact with the SAB cast? Tell us about your experience(s).

A: Amita liked the photo of my Dregs tattoo on instagram! I love her so much and I’m so glad she interacts with the fandom so much as well.

Q: If you could be friends with any character in the Grishaverse, who would it be?

A: Matthias and I both grew up with organized religion being the backbone of our perspective of the world, so I feel like he and I could get along well. I want to give all the crows a hug (an air hug for Kaz).

Q: What are some headcanons you have that you consider your personal canon?

A: Kaz Rietveld-Brekker is transmasc. Argue with the wall XD. (I am nonbinary transmasc I hold this headcanon so close to my heart).

Q: Are there any songs you strongly associate with a favourite character or ship?

A: Francesca by Hozier is Kanej coded.

Q: How do you feel about your fics being translated into other languages?

A: Go forth and translate (just give me credit please and thank youuuuu)!

❀

Part Two: Selected Works

Do Us Part

Teen | 4.1K | Kanej, Wesper, Helnik Modern AU, Mentioned Character Death, The dog lives In Progress

Part of the Wesper Fic Club Big Bang 2024! The Crows run a funeral home in the suburbs of a modern day Ketterdam. There’s death. There’s a dog. There’s healing. There’s still a dog.

No Funerals

Teen | 10.1K | Kanej, mentioned Wesper, mentioned Helnik Vampire AU, slowburn, Wesper Child, Alby Rollins is there In Progress

There’s a figure that haunts the Barrel at night since time immemorial, he exists in the shadows and watery reflections of the canals of Ketterdam. He was once the undisputed king of the city, and now? He runs a gang of misfits and swindles the merchant council, not even death can escape his cheating. 

Forever Not to Disappear

Teen | 20.5K | Kanej, Wesper Sickfic, slowburn, healing from trauma In Progress

Kaz Brekker is stuck in bed (it’s a bad illness day) and is forced to reflect and process his emotions.

Clouded Judgement

Teen | 441 words | Kanej, Wesper Stream of Consciousness, Wishful thinking, Reflective Kaz Brekker Completed

Post-Season Two finale of Shadow and Bone, Kaz is hoveled up in his room, and his mind never stops moving. Nor does his pen.

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Part Three: Author's Recs

I’m The Perfect Stranger Who Knows You Too Well by @remadora-black / actressforever14 (my sister Cassie!)

Teen | 54.9K | Kanej, Wesper, Helnik Jordie Rietveld Lives, Childhood Trauma, Major Illness In Progress

Cassie’s description: What if Jordie did not die of Firepox? What if, instead, when Kaz returned from the Barge, his brother was waiting for him. Firepox would leave them both forever changed, but how will the course of the rest of their lives go? What will happen to Jordie when he realizes his little brother is no longer the boy he knew before, and that he has been left with a shell of a boy with only one thing on his mind: vengeance?

What the Water Gave Me by 19burstraat (astardanced)

Teen | 23.9K | Kanej, Crows friendship Post Canon, Canon Divergence, Angst With A Happy Ending Completed

Kaz as a Tidemaker. Get into it. Kaz as a grisha is extremely my sh*t. 

You’re A Dog And I’m Your Man by limelacroix

Not Rated | 27.8K | Kanej, Wesper Kaz Brekker gets a dog, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Kaz Brekker gets a dog. That’s the whole thing.Also extremely my sh*t

The Unexpected Visitor by insignificant457

Mature 90.9K | Kanej Post-canon, Implied/referenced SA, Implied/referenced sex In Progress

Inej brings one Bastard of the Barrel to the caravans for a family wedding. Hijinks ensue.

❀

Please support our authors by commenting and leaving kudos on any stories of theirs you read and enjoy! Don't forget to also reblog this post and check back soon for our next author spotlight to come.

Interested in joining our server and getting to know our community? Feel free to request an invite via the @i-can-read-to-him ask box.

[thedrarrylibrarian]

One of my favorite things about doing Happy Hour is facilitating guests and encouraging them to be creative with their recs. Whether you want to format with bullet points or use emojis or write a paragraph-form rec, I love seeing guests give their favorite ficswith their style. When I asked our wonderful @phdmama to join and be a Happy Hour guest, she had the wonderful idea to change it up a bit and give her re-read recs, and I think you'll be so thrilled with what she came up with. Enjoy!

When The Drarry Librarian invited me to participate in Happy Hour, I was SO excited and honored, because, well - they’re doing such wonderful lovely things in fandom, and who doesn’t adore hyping up a fic they love? But as I thought about it, I realized that so many of the fics I wanted to rec were older and well-known, but they’re the fics that came to my mind because I’ve read them so many times.

Which got me to thinking about the role of rereading in fandom, and how it works for me. Now, I know there are lots of people who never reread, and there are lots of people who maybe reread occasionally. (This is actually one of the things I adore about fandom, all the beautiful differences we bring to the table!) That’s just not how my mind works. I’ve always been a VERY COMMITTED (aka deeply obsessive) reader and as I think back over my reading life, I’ve also always been a REreader.

Reading, quite literally, has saved my life and transformed it. So I thought I’d highlight of few of those fics that have impacted me so profoundly. These fics are comfort food for my brain. These are fics I come back to, over and over and over again. They live in my soul. (For the purposes of this piece, I’ll stick to Drarry fics, but there are these special fics in every fandom I read in, and we all know, I read very widely in lots of fandoms - it’s truly an embarrassment of riches!)

Two notes: 

I would recommend pretty much anything by these authors (read the tags etc etc) &

Limiting myself to just a few was SO SO difficult and I know I’m leaving out so many of my favorite authors and fics but I wanted to ACTUALLy write this!

Foundations by saras_girl (236,075 words, rated E)

When one door closes, another one opens – with a bit of a push. Life, love and complications. [sequel to Reparations]

Now, I could probably put most of saras-girl’s fics on this list and call it a day, but this fic (the whole ‘verse honestly) hits me on so many levels. From a narrative standpoint, I absolutely adore the idea of Healer Harry, and this whole world is just so rich and fully realized. This fic hits the therapist/healer in me and it speaks to the way so many healers are, just as Draco is, so wounded and in our own journey. But even more so, this fic gave me a tool for when I was navigating my father’s dying, the tool of, “in this space, we can say whatever we want, whatever we’re thinking and feeling, without any apologizing, equivocating or shaming ourselves.” (The “we” in this case was my sister and me.) It felt like because I had read this, it gave me permission to live it, and I cannot begin to explain how necessary it was for me during that incredibly painful time. This fic hits grief and loss and how hard life can be sometimes but also it’s so beautifully healing.

One moment that gets me:

“Don’t say anything,” Harry pleads, and it’s almost a whisper. He doesn’t want to hear any 

reassuring words, were Draco inclined to begin offering them.

“What makes you think there’s anything I could say?” Draco murmurs against his ear and holds him tighter.

The Light More Beautiful by @firethesound (81,225 words, rated E)

Thirteen years after Draco accepts Potter's help escaping the horror of his sixth year, he returns to England where he makes the unfortunate discovery that Potter is still as obnoxious as ever. And worse, more than a decade overseas hasn't been enough to dim Draco's obsession with him.

I think this is one of the first Drarry fics I ever really just fell head over heels in love with. This was in my early days of navigating AO3 and I really didn’t understand it all. I read the fic, and lost track of it, and was thinking about it several months later. I ended up going through my entire history (IT TOOK A LONG TIME PALS) to find it because I just remembered loving it so much. Every time I reread it, I just fall more and more in love with it. I love that these are imperfect people, who’ve learned and grown and changed. I love the narrative voice in this - I think this fic really shaped both what I love to read (a sort of spare, dry, very funny until you get PUNCHED IN THE FEELINGS kind of voice) but also my own writing. This is the kind of voice I aspire to. 

A moment (one of many) that makes me laugh:

“Fuck off,” Draco says again, slapping his hand away. So much for Potter keeping his hands to himself.

“Come on!” Potter slides off the table, grabs him and pulls him into an awkward, shuffling sort of dance that consists mostly of hip-grinding and arse-groping and, to Draco’s horror, he starts belting out lyrics. Draco thinks he’s getting them horribly wrong until it clicks that Potter’s just making them up as he goes along. About the two of them. And well now, that’s just inappropriate.

“Stop it!” Draco says, trying to push Potter off him. It’s a struggle to keep from laughing, but he knows if he does it’ll only egg Potter on. “You’re not even singing the right words.” He doesn’t succeed in dislodging him. Merlin, Potter’s like an octopus. An octopus with a terrible singing voice and no sense of rhythm and a somewhat frightening sense of humour.

Draco finally makes him shut up by sticking his tongue in Potter’s mouth, and mercifully Potter’s more interested in snogging than in continuing his ridiculous made-up lyrics.

Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 (91,000 words, rated E)

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

I was sort of wary going into this one. I have very complicated feelings about relationships between healers and their patients, and normally avoid that dynamic but this was recommended to me (I can’t even remember by whom) and I am so thankful I did try it, because it’s another one of my all-time favorites. This is another fic that really dives into the absolute complexity of disability, trauma and healing. We have real people who are amazing and flawed and beautiful and so, so real. One of the things I also love about this fic is that Harry isn’t “fixed” by magic - he heals, and he adapts but he’s profoundly changed by his experiences, and as a trauma survivor, this just resonated so so deeply for me.

A beautiful, poignant moment:

When Malfoy finally leaves him alone at the end of the night, Harry exhales for the first time in what feels like hours. His body feels tight and confusing; he wants to rage and throw things at the other man, wants to refuse his aid.

But there was a moment when Malfoy seemed so assured, so fucking confident that he could help, that Harry had been dazed with the force of his own longing, but couldn’t bring himself to ask if that help would be able to make him whole again.

He didn’t think he could stand hearing the word no.

Aurora by @wolfpants (5,230 words, rated M)

Eighth Year at a half-built Hogwarts, and Harry is not following Draco Malfoy anymore. At least, that's what he's telling himself.

This fic just breaks my heart in the most beautiful way (which wolfie knows cuz I just screech about it periodically). I love so many of the different iterations of post-war Harry but this is absolutely one of my favorites. He’s lost and struggling to find a way, and I love that journey for him. Wolfie’s such a wonderful writer, and this whole fic is just so delicate and beautiful. 

A moment that makes me cry EVERY SINGLE TIME (this writing OMG):

And that was how the two of them found themselves in an intense and hushed conversation out on the fields, the same fields Harry watched Charlie and Nicu kiss, where Ginny demanded too much of him and Harry cracked under her questions, questions, questions.

They came back to the house together, sticky-cheeked and red-eyed, and a week later, it all became clearer to Harry when Ron asked him about it on one of their forest walks. It became clearer when Harry had planted a misdirected kiss of his own to his friend’s lips, and Ron had let him, and had, for a while, allowed it to continue, until he slid his fingers gently over the nape of Harry’s neck and pressed their foreheads together and let Harry cry instead, and he told him, "it’s alright, it’s alright mate, no one’s going to hate you for this, it’s alright, we all love you, you just have to talk to us, you just have to know that we’re here for you, yeah? No matter who you are, alright? It’s alright. We just want you to be happy. It’s all we want."

Believe me when I say, there are SO SO many fics from so many brilliant writers that I wanted to include, it was incredibly hard to narrow down. I feel like I say this over and over again, but I’m so so grateful to all of you for sharing your gifts with fandom in all the ways you do. They’ve transformed my life in deep, profound, and permanent ways. Thank you.

And a huge thank you to thedrarrylibrarian for letting me share these thoughts and fics with you!!! 

   - xox phdmama

Thank you so much @phdmama for the amazing recs! It was a delight to have you join us!

[gerhardtz]

When I was rewatching Season 2 I had your “emotional constipation” comment in mind and I noticed Hanzee never really expresses his emotions physically or through words, only subtlely, but when he finally does both when Peggy is going to cut his hair (confessing he’s tired and looking like he’s actually relaxing when Peggy is about to make the cut), he’s betrayed and (literally) stabbed in the back (very subtle scene lol). So that probably made his bottling up soooo much worse. I wanted to ask how to even try and work through that hard shell on a guy like Hanzee? Or maybe an example of how you’re doing that with Rye, working through the bottled up emotions, if you have a more solid idea with him. I was also thinking about the first ask I sent and how you said that how being in love with a guy probably wouldn’t surprise Hanzee the most. I was wondering, what would surprise him then? (Sorry if it was just an offhand comment, sometimes I read too much into stuff lol) (Oh jeez, big wall of text lol sorry!)

Omg hi again! It always makes me really happy to recieve these asks so there's absolutely no need to apologise for the wall of text!

I've been mulling this over all day, thinking of how I would go about trying to write this kind of thing, and I gotta admit you have me stumped! I feel like it really depends a lot on the OC, and who they are as a person. Are they an open book -- a sort of foil to Hanzee -- or are they equally as emotionally constipated and in need of healing? The former may struggle to peel back the hard shell for a while, as I feel Hanzee may be suspicious of someone so ernest and eager to befriend him, but then again if they're BOTH hiding behind a wall, we've got two layers of bricks to tear down.

That's kind of a non-answer, I apologise! I haven't done a huuuge amount of writing for Hanzee, purely because we know so little about him! I truly wish we had more of the Season 2 scripts available to the public, as a fun thing about Noah Hawley's screenwriting (at least in the production pinks I've read) is that we really get to see into the minds of the characters in a way I've never seen in a screenplay before. Though it's odd, in the one script we do have with Hanzee in it (S2E8 - Loplop), we don't really get that! Even in the scene you mentioned, we don't get to see his inner thoughts, rather viewing it through Peggy's eyes instead.

I think it's very interesting how Hanzee's almost unknowable inner self is even true to the script itself, which seems to be deliberately written in a way that doesn't let us see inside his head. I obviously can't speak for the rest of the scripts or the revisions past this relatively early one, but it's something cool to note. I know that doesn't help answer your question AT ALL, but it was something I've been thinking about for a while and wanted to throw out there (:

As for an example of how I'm doing that with Rye... that's kind of complicated. To avoid spoiling too much if you're reading my fic, it takes a very long time -- and even then, there are still a lot of internal conflicts which never end up getting resolved in the fic. I also feel like due to certain plot points I won't mention, their situations unfortunately probably aren't comparable, but who knows! I don't know really anything about your story (and I would absolutely love to, if you'd like to share! My DMs are always open if you want to chat about stuff and maybe even play toys with our OCs hehe) so maybe I'm wrong :P

The point about Hanzee not being surprised about being in love with a man was probably worded poorly when I wrote my initial answer half-asleep LMAO. I don't mean to say that he wouldn't be surprised at all -- he definitely would! I feel like that kind of revelation comes as a surprise to a lot of people nowadays so it would have been even more of a shocker back then; I mean that the fact that he's managed to fall in love at all would be even more shocking to him. I feel like having had such an insular and isolated life, he may never considered a relationship at all/not been interested in one. OR, the sadder, slightly less headcanon-y option: perhaps he eventually resigned himself to thinking he'd never find love because the Gerhardts had isolated him for fear of him realising he can do better. How this would sway his reaction is a whole other question that I'm honestly not sure how to answer! Probably a lot of thinking and not a lot of speaking :P

I hope this helped at least a little bit! Again, feel free to let me know if there's anything that wasn't clear, or even DM me if you wanna talk OCs :3c

[nevermindirah]

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

hi thank you for asking!!

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

Does comfort and safety count as a trope? Because I don't just enjoy writing it, I need to write it. Some people process their trauma by writing fucked-up things and I salute them for that. For me, writing mutual trust and carefulness and emotional safety is an important part of my healing. Nile and Booker so quickly and powerfully finding mutual understanding in canon was a very big deal for me and everything I write is extrapolating out from that into endless futures where they're both able to cope with their burdens with less suffering.

We live in a disturbing time of purity culture resurgence where there are very loud annoying voices declaring that there's only one correct way to write relationships, which sucks for a lot of reasons, including that some people might encounter my writing and wonder if this is why I write how I do. It's so profoundly not, but it doesn't help anybody for me to get defensive about it. Some people are going to think that about my writing and not read further and I can be sad about losing potential readers without wasting energy trying to change them or myself. People who do stick around might find some of the same value I do in exploring what's complicated and interesting and sometimes wonderfully boring about characters who make each other feel truly safe.

Nile would've gotten some training as part of her NCO promotion in how to look out for signs of PTSD in her squad and she's probably at least aware of some therapy concepts from having survived her father's death, though whether she ever got any formal grief counseling is headcanon territory. Booker reads a lot and it's easy enough to imagine him branching out from that canonical fiction to mental illness memoirs. My Booker has fallen asleep cuddling An Unquiet Mind at least twice. I know some aspects of my writing are too therapy-speak for some readers' tastes and that's ok. One of the things I'm working on as a writer is reining in the aspects of this that are clearly my voice speaking through the characters and getting better at expressing the things I need for my fics to express in the ways that these specific characters would be most likely to express them.

🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?

Nile and Booker are equally my babies. I've written so enormously much more fic the past few years than I ever imagined I would because both of their voices live in my head so insistently demanding to be shared. Slight edge for Booker over Nile though in one aspect — Christianity is important to Nile, and I know a lot about that worldview and can find that part of her voice, but it's not a fun place for me. Writing Jewish Booker is a special joy.

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

I love Andy and I want to include more of her in my fics, but I struggle like hell getting into her head. It's not necessarily her mind boggling lifespan though, it's the nihilism. That's a worldview I just do not understand. It's honestly sometimes triggering to think about it too much. So I end up writing Andy mostly in small scenes and she rarely feels quite right.

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

The scope of TOG canon is so wild that no headcanons feel appropriately out there, so I'll return to my MCU beloved for this one. Sam Wilson owns a house in Petworth and takes the bus or the metro down to the Mall for his morning runs. This is a completely insane thing to do on a regular basis. Like close to an hour each way completely insane. Maybe he does it once a week and runs closer to home most other days, but then he met sexy "on your left" jerkface and decided to go again the next day. He wore his skin-tight purple shirt and spent 2 hours on the metro and didn't even see Steve on that second run!! But then Steve showed up in his backyard and it was fine and now maybe Sam has a special dispensation from the FAA to use his wings to get down to the Mall for morning runs when he's in town.

(fanfic writer asks!)

[imliterallyjustablackgirl]

"About the Blogger" meme

Thank u sm for tag @happylikeasadsong

Star Sign(s): Virgo sun, Cancer rising and Aries Moon - * ratata, in the ghettooo*

Favorite Holidays: Christmas and New Years, I just love little lights and the snow in the trees and to be reminded that makeup is just make up by the Canadian wind, while I get bitch slapped like I owes it money, ahhh, canadian's winter. I loveeee Christmas songs, I get so excited when it'ssss timmmee ( Mariah is it you). I dream for the day were I get to put lil socks like in movies with name and everything. Might even stitch them myself uwu. We don't do it, but maybe one day, family on my own.

Last Meal: As like my last meal if I d i e or - I ate a burned sandwich, I did it to myself. Me and myself are not talking right now, the sandwich was the last straw for today. It had two large meatballs in a subway wanna be bread - could have been great- I'm getting emotional all over again.

Current Favorite Musician: Brown noise 10 hrs- no wait - Rap orchestra - that's like the current thing I'm listening to right now. Mostly Metro's concert rap Orchestra. But Tanarelle, forever my love. Sade, for sure.

Last Music Listened To: * sigh - go look at the last edit I watched** 1975- about you, the snippet of Holt singing. Last Movie Watched: Bottoms - Lmao- THEEE GAYYYZZZ

Last TV Show Watched: Craig of the Creek - Rick and Morty, Bob's burgers, I watch Bob's burgers alot.

Last Book/Fic Finished: Now why did you have to do me like dat.

Last Book/Fic Abandoned: W A W Abandoned? I Do Not Abandoned My Kids. They just live inside my head until one day a smell, a sound,or an idea reminds me that they exist, or I write them on a piece of paper and forget about it OR they live inside my notes pads. Let's not speak about myout-of-wedlockk Skyrock- Wattpat and Fanfiction.net, children, they are not mine, you cannot prove it. Where is the paternity test?

Currently Reading: Y'all posts, like it's bedtime stories. Curry's fanfictions - honestly I read most of y'all updated or not fanfiction, I was on A3O Sydcarmy tags when there was barely two pages, so ouf - thank you to y'all my loves :* truly. I would lie if I said now I have too much windows open I'm confusing the timelines and fanfic. - Seasons of Sydney by shewalksoverme I am waiting for them to update. I am not handling it well, sadly *sighs*

Last Thing Researched for Art/Writing/Hyperfixation: Canada's woods, slightly make me sounds like a serial killer but HOW would you write a werewolf Carmy,huh!? I lived there most of my life, thought it would help me get a better writing experience, yet I've been too busy to continue and now I'm alarmeling aware that we have coyotes. Great ;-;

Favorite Online Fandom Memory: I have alot but I watched the last episode of Stranger Things with my friends last year. S8 of TVD, feeling like a last survivor of some sort, trauma lol - The Howl House - the finality, it healed my inner child to see a queer neurodivergent kid being understood by her mom, kick ass and be happy lol.

Favorite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence: Amphibia- it's such a cute and layered cartoon. OMG - I ALMOST FORGOT - CENTAURWORLD. It deserves the praise. It deserves to be acknowledged, the bad guy changed my perception of so many things.

Favorite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big "Fandom" but You Wish It Did: I wish (His Dark Materials: The Golden Compass) when I tell you, that this fantasy world has haunted me, because of how good it was for little girl me, argh! I would watch it all over again, I wish it had a bigger fanbase - if you love Christmas-

Tempting Project You're Trying to Rein In/Don't Have Time For:

Listen - Projects are not the issue, it's the follow-through, I'm gonna try writing mini-stories to keep my mind engaged. I'll manipulate myself into work - Also I keep losing password to things so, yeah- My fic started: Under the moon- I will this week updated it- I want to write more one-shots, more smut for sure- I am interested in exploring differents fronts of any characters. Shit, I might even a Bob's Burgers fanfic. You can't stop me, you're not my mom- that I know of :O I would like @currymanganese to do it @angelica4equity You don't have to, but like... an ant somewhere might die cauz of it so, idk- do u wanna be an ant murdereww? Yeah, that's what i thought

[itsbinghebitch]

I was trying not to get involved in everything going on right now but after reading your last post I just felt I had to say something. Firstly you seem like a really mature and thoughtful person which is such a breath of fresh air in online spaces in general. The way you're handling the situation is really admirable and your words really resonated with me. I'm relatively new to this fandom (I watched KPTS after the shitshow in January) and, after learning what happened, I've done my best to keep my distance from the cast and BOC and just focus on the story and characters. Based on what I'd read about the case I was willing to give Build the benefit of the doubt but the recent leaked messages make that nearly impossible which is also preventing me from enjoying the series which I've come to love. What makes it worse is that I'm an artist who loves VegasPete and, just like you, every time I try to make art with them, I keep thinking about all the awful comments Build made about Bible and it feels plain wrong to draw them together. Even for someone like me who's not emotionally attached to the actors it's really hard to separate them from the characters and it's making my fandom experience pretty miserable. I have very complicated feelings about the whole ordeal - on one hand as a queer person like you I'm tired of people's homophobia and bigotry being swept under the rug, but on the other hand I've seen first hand what an abusive relationship can do to a person so I can't help but feel some compassion for him too. I truly hope he can reflect on his mistakes and heal and grow as a person. Maybe I'm just too old for celebrity culture and drama but I do feel the need to be able to discuss issues like this one in a calm and level headed manner instead of falling victim to black and white thinking and turning things into a witch hunt. Sorry for the rant and feel free to ignore this message, your post just really resonated with me and I wanted to share some of my thoughts on the matter. I hope you have a lovely day/night ❤️

thank u sm for this message.... i really appreciate you taking the time to write about your experience and i'm glad you felt like you could share ❤️

there isn't a clear-cut answer to the whole debacle. whoever tries to sell you one is a scammer or is speaking out of an emotionally clouded place (as i was last week lol).

taking a look back at everything, i think it's important to acknowledge:

1. multiple things can be true at once: you can feel hurt by build's comments and still feel sympathy for his predicament.

2. you should be able to discuss these things without feeling like you'll get, idk. fandom black points. or get blocked by everyone who thinks differently than you (which happened to me), or even hounded and hacked by people to the point of getting your blog shut down (which happened to blramblings).

3. it's really fucking hard to be a fandom creator in these circumstances. i'm really sorry to hear your art has been impacted. especially in the case of vegaspete, i tend to believe there was an "aura" inextricably linking biblebuild as actors to who they were representing on screen. no one but biblebuild could've been vegaspete for me. it was their contrasting facial features, it was in their on-screen rapport and chemistry for me. their choices in portraying the characters, the behind-the-scene interviews... that aura mesmerized me for an entire year literally. and it's not only fine to admit that the situation complicates your fandom art, it should be an *active conversation* we have as fandom creators. because let me tell you, i don't write fic on top of my insane job out of the goodness of my heart. it's because of that spark of joy i feel, that stepping out of the regular day to day. the moment that joy isn't there anymore, it becomes labor. and let me tell you one thing i DON'T do. it's FREE LABOR corporations fuck me on the daily already so why would i let them do it as a hobby too

so yeah thanks so much for sharing your thoughts <3 i rly rly appreciate it and sending you lots of good vibes. who knows what the future holds in store for us etc. etc. but we out here!!!

[tomato-fendo-writes]

Fun Fax: OLM Chapter 6

Jin’s injuries have caused such a particular timeline of events in my head its kinda stupid, im hyperaware of how they would realistically heal and what he can and cannot do in this time, its driving me nuts lol! stuck between writing realistic injury/recovery stuff, and this being freaking tekken. help.

the thing with Jin’s flame trainers is of course directly lifted from Bloodline, i like that they felt the need to add detail when it came to one of his biggest monikers. unlike with Bloodline, tho, he actually gets what he wants cause we dont have Heihachi as the one calling the shots

i mention kata a LOT in this fic, apparently, and i wish i had any kind of reference for what a Mishima-Ryu kata truly might be. only knowing Isshin-Ryu myself, i imagine Kusanku and Chinto (Shotokan style) kata especially in reference to Kazuya! (for the record, i think of Sanchin and Seiyunchin (Goju-Ryu style) for Heihachi. i could go into a lot more on this subject, but both these styles are p rooted in their playstyles!) apologies to anyone who doesnt know much about martial arts for real 😬

do i look like i know anything about ward/guardianship proceedings? no, im keeping it vague on purpose. if you know anything on the subject i am truly sorry but im not writing a legal drama we have to kill the demon

Kazuya is such a dick it drives me insane 💀 hes so fun to write, but like Jin, im over here wanting to strangle him during this chapter. stop trying to make him mad and just be a dad wont you 😭 (extra, my beta said “ive decided i hate this man” while reading his convo with Jin hsdfdn)

speaking of which, i found the first time he takes on the dad tone when Jin gets caught eavesdropping so funny to me for no reason sdfds

unfortunately, i found myself very exasperated with this chapter when i finally posted it. im finding my issues in pacing a lot more now that im actually getting into stuff, and its a little discouraging tbh. but we persist! trying to find a balance between throwing in the towel and being at peace with the fact that this isnt going to be perfect. its my first long fic, after all, and the weight of that is starting to land lol

[onesmallcentury]

milo/sweetheart, cont.

Hello! I’m still here. Remember this? It continues!

Another wip I’m afraid, because this fic keeps growing and I don’t see an ending quite yet. Also, I’m working on another fic (spicy, perhaps) featuring milo/sweetheart that is actually almost done. So let’s look forward to that, yeah? (Speaking to myself, in hope that it motivates me).

This time we have some small moments with Milo and Sweetheart together, first at the hospital, and then later at home. Mostly dialogue, but enjoy!!

-

"One of the doctors said you were lucky to have a daemon there. Their healing got you stable enough to make it to the hospital."

"You must've been going crazy in here," they said, gently turning their hand in his grip to interlock their fingers, "I'm sorry for worrying you."

"Don't be. It's the fucker who shot you who should be sorry. If he wasn't already in DUMP's custody, I'd have his jugular in my jaws right about now. I know your job can get dangerous - so can mine. I'm just so happy you're alright. Well, I dunno about alright, but…"

"Not dead."

"Hush. Let's keep it that way." He grumbled, bringing their joined hands up and pressing a kiss to the back of their hand.

"All this magic in the world, and we're still stopped by bullets, huh?"

"Yeah, that's the rub, ain't it?" He laughs, half of a grin revealing one of his dimples. There's a moment, a breath of comfortable silence, that they get to just look at him.

His hair is a mess; it's grown out longer than he likes it, and it's dirty and tangled with how constantly he's been running his fingers through it. He's got one of his rumpled sleep shirts on, and the track jacket he'd thrown over it is covered in Aggro hairs. Add the dark circles under his eyes, and he very much looks the picture of someone who has been sitting in a hospital, fretting, without sleep.

And yet, even as ragged as he looks, Milo is handsome. Must be those damn cheekbones, or the curve of that sharp mouth. They reach up to brush some of the hair off his forehead, and he pushes his head against their hand, closing his eyes. A wolf-like gesture that fills them with a warmth they've only come to know with him.

-

"I've got you," he said softly,  and he began to carefully maneuver the back of their shirt up over their head. Getting it off was easy; it was putting the clean shirt on that proved the most painful endeavor. But Milo's hands were gentle, and he went slow - he'd hum low in his throat to acknowledge every hiss of pain, and when they were finally dressed, he looked down at them fondly.

"You know what this reminds me of?" he asked, the fingers of one hand kneading their forearm to help them relax again. His mate shook their head, smiling at the mirth they caught in his eyes.

"No, what?"

"You remember our first kiss?" he said it around a grin, like he couldn't help himself. Warmth bubbled in their chest with the memory. How could they ever forget something like that?

"You mean when I was trying to heal the gashes in your chest while you shamelessly flirted with me?"

"Hey, it worked, didn't it? You're the one who bent down to kiss my bloody lip without complaint, huh?"

"Hmm, maybe I felt sorry for you,"

"Oh yeah? Sorry enough to climb into my lap and run your hands all over my- ow! Hey!"

-

If you made it this far, thank you! Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart. The last wip of this got lots of love, and although most of the time I am too shy to reply to comments I want everyone to know that I truly, deeply, appreciate every word. My name is Elle btw, and I hope to write so much more for you (and for me, of course)!! :)

[mimi-cee-hq]

Wildfires - Atsumu x f!reader

Summary: You're burned from last year's rumours, now fearing any hint of smoke. Yet you can't help, but fall for the childhood friend who's a balm to your wounds.

Genres, tropes, etc: angst with a satisfying and happy ending, angst to fluff, hurt/ comfort, exs to lovers (but not the usual kind), secret dating, drama and romance, but it's still somehow cute because that's just how I write lol

Warnings: false rumours about cheating and an illicit relationship, so it still technically mentions those things.

Words: 1.9k

Author's Notes: Hi Lia (@chimielie)! I'm your ☀️ anon. 🥰 You suggested exs to lovers and hurt/comfort for this prompt and it still technically is those things, but it's probably not what you expected.

If anyone is new to my blog and doesn't want to read angst, here's a cute fluff Atsumu x reader instead. :)

This fic is for the Heatwave Fic Exchange (@heatwave2021). Thank you for hosting this!

~*~*~

"I hadn't realized you two were still together."

Not even the overworked fan's whirring can drown out the strained silence that follows.

"We're not."

The air is dry and sweat forms on your brow. With the sun beating down, it's the perfect combination for a wildfire.

Atsumu's chin sits on his fist as he avoids your gaze. Lowering your eyes, you stare at the wooden table.

"Did he still care?" you ask yourself.

~*~*~

Plaid skirts sway as two students peek into their new classroom, attempting to be discreet. You hear their whispers from a distance, waiting in front of your own classroom.

"Look! We get Kinjou-sensei this year!" one exclaims.

"Are you serious?" the other asks after letting out a gasp. "I don't know if that's a good thing or not. I might end up staring at his face all day."

"Maybe it'll help you pay attention," her friend snickers.

You clench your jaw as heat rises in your body. They're able to indulge in frivolous remarks, ignorant of how you're left scarred from one fleeting gesture, a tiny piece of kindling that ignited into uncontrollable flames.

Cool hands cover your ears from behind you. Your jaw relaxes and the tension dissipates from your shoulders. You turn around to see Atsumu wearing a scowl on his lips. Sighing as you cross your arms, you ask, "Atsumu, what are you doing?"

"Well if only there was a way to make 'em shut up," he replies with a sharp tone.

You lean away from him and swat his hands back. "You're too close," you tell him.

"Alright!" he says, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'll go!"

As he walks away, he crosses his thumb and index finger behind his back, forming a little heart. You smirk at his hidden gesture to you.

"I love you too, Atsumu," you silently tell him as a smile graces your lips. However, it vanishes like the mist in the sun when yet another person calls after him, someone he doesn't know.

You skirt around the other students, avoiding their path, and rush to your desk. There are too many dry leaves around; a single spark can burst everything into flames.

Why does everyone have to know Atsumu?

~*~*~

"I wish you could've been my partner for the project," you say.

Atsumu pours a glass of water and places it on the table in front of you. "You ended up with that new girl, right?" he mentions and you reply with a nod. "She should be safe to work with."

You're startled once again when you hear the chimes from the front door. A rattan room divider obstructs your view of it, but you hunch down anyway as you finally pick up your spoon.

Atsumu sits across from you, sharing something about his team. His eyes dim when he realizes you haven't been listening.

"This isn't working," he tells you. "I thought this restaurant would be better because people can't see us from here." He runs his fingers in his hair, a sign he's frustrated.

"I– I forgot people can still hear us," you say in a low voice.

Atsumu sighs. "Let's just watch a movie at my house," he says. "Osamu already knows anyway."

"You know we can't," you protest. "Not when Hana and Haku drop by so often. They're going to realize we're together."

"But how are we supposed to have any fun when you're so scared?"

"I–" You lower your gaze, eyes unfocused towards your untouched bowl of rice. "Sorry, Atsumu."

"It's not your fault," he reminds you yet again. This exchange has become all too familiar. "Maybe we should finally tell Hana and Haku what happened to you."

"And have them find out the guy in the rumours is their beloved brother?" You cross your arms over your chest and rub your hand on your sleeve. "I still want to be comfortable around them, Atsumu. Ignorance is bliss right?"

His mouth twists before a groan escapes from it. He slouches in his seat and stares at the food in front of you, which remains the way the waitress left it.

"Let's take the train to Tokyo next time," he mutters. "Nobody'll know us there."

Your eyes grow before looking up at Atsumu. "What?" you slowly enunciate just above a whisper. "Don't you know how expensive that is?"

He presses his lips together before sharing his next suggestion. "I know where 'Samu's secret stash of money is…"

You narrow your eyes at him. "No, we're not stealing from him to go on a date, Atsumu."

"Alright," he says, lowering his eyes and dropping his shoulders.

Seeing his expression, you offer another idea. "How about Osaka?" It's only one city away.

Atsumu's eyes light up, excited at the chance of finally getting to enjoy some time with you. Although your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes, you hope leaving the vicinity of last year's wildfires would be enough, for Atsumu's sake and yours.

~*~*~

Your heart beats faster and your throat becomes dry. You weren't getting enough air.

"You're okay," you tell yourself. "She's not talking about you."

"Seriously! That happened at my old school," your project partner snickers as she recounts her story to you. "They even got the kiss on camera too! I felt so bad for her, but it's her own fault for cheating on him."

You begin to feel dizzy, catching a whiff of smoke from another victim's fire. Her words add fuel to a fire that cannot be stopped. Wildfires burn and burn, and are never satisfied until they run out of kindling.

"Oh! I've been meaning to ask. Are you dating Atsumu? The two of you seem really close!"

Your throat struggles to take control, attempting to keep your stomach down; it doesn't want to burn either.

They'll say you're cheating on Kinjou-sensei.

The tongue is a powerful weapon, causing destruction by those who are both untrained and ignorant as well as the truly malicious.

Your knees buckle as you pant for air, your grip weak on the knob. You need to get out.

Atsumu's figure is before you and you relax as he catches you. You never would have imagined that this guy would be your fleeting oasis.

~*~*~

"Let's break up," you tell Atsumu.

You both knew this was coming, yet a bucket of icy water chilled to the bone regardless of whether or not it was expected. Speaking those words aloud shocked you back into reality.

You hesitated dating each other in the first place, but you couldn't help but caress his strong hands when he admitted his feelings for you. Growing up together in your group of five, he was by your side from snotty noses to acne breakouts.

You didn't expect to fall for the hot-head of your bunch when rumours of you dating Kinjou-sensei spread. Atsumu attempted to extinguish every flame he spotted, witnessing your anguish each time you got burned.

"Maybe we can still do this," you say, contradicting your previous words.

"And what? Have ya pass out again every time someone asks about us?" Atsumu protests. He lowers his eyes as he clutches your hand. "Do ya know how worried I was about ya?"

Your heart flutters for a moment before you remind yourself that you can't keep him, the boy who has been by your side for so long.

"Aghhhhh! This is so stupid!!! Why are we suffering because of this made up crap?! 'Kinjou-sensei' had put a bandaid on me a thousand times more than he did t' ya! But nobody gives a crap about that!"

"I'm sorry Atsumu."

"Why the heck are ya sorry?!" he says, raising his voice.

"I– If I was just strong enough... If I could withstand their stupid words"–your lip trembles–"maybe I wouldn't have to choose between you and having some peace."

There's another silence between the two of you. Your fingers are loosely intertwined together, barely holding the fragile string between the two of you, as if it were a wick that would combust and disappear in a split second.

"Maybe we should just run away," Atsumu mumbles aloud.

"What?"

"Ya know, transfer schools. Or even drop out if we need ta."

"Atsumu! You can't! We can't! You have volleyball! And I... this is the only school that gave me a scholarship."

"Agh! Why is this so frustrating?!"

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, ya idiot! Ya did nothing wrong!" He presses and rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm. "I just… I wish I could do more for ya." His arm drops at his side. "I wish I didn't feel so useless."

Your tears drip down your face. Could they be counted any more? If only you didn't fear getting caught dating Atsumu, terrified that last year's fires would morph into a raging beast. But another wildfire would not only destroy you but also the man you loved. If only your sores healed by now, you could have shown off your boyfriend, disregarding any of the flames.

If only you were fireproof.

But you weren't and now you're forced to loosen your grip on Atsumu, the balm to your wounds, and let him fall out of your hands.

~*~*~

"I hadn't realized you two were still together."

Not even the overworked fan's whirring can drown out the strained silence that follows.

"We're not."

It was three years since you talked to Atsumu, four since rumours first raged through the school. The two of you went through cycles of getting back together and breaking up again every time you learned that fear was still crippling you. Cutting off contact was the less painful option.

Years later, you're at a friend's cottage and Atsumu comes along without knowing you're here as well. Now that high school has come and gone, the smoke has dissipated and the fires have finished their course. You can finally breathe.

But does Atsumu still want you?

To anyone else, Atsumu is bored out of his mind, resting his chin on his fist. Nobody sees his thumb and finger forming a tiny heart.

Your heart flutters and you blink back tears. You attempt to hold back your growing grin, but you have no reason to hide it anymore.

You wrap your arms around him, almost causing him to topple off of his chair, Atsumu letting out a yelp. "What the heck are ya doing?"

You can finally release your feelings for him, openly and freely. The dam opens and waters rush to engulf him before you settle into his embrace.

"I love you too Atsumu," you tell him without a care in the world.

Osamu tells you he changed when you cut off contact. He desired to be a man, not wanting to feel so powerless, and poured himself into things he could do. It paid off.

"Did ya want to go somewhere together? I could even take ya all the way t' Rome if ya want."

The two of you hold each others' hands as the ocean's edge cools your feet. You lean against his shoulder, cherishing the moment that at one point seemed like an inaccessible dream.

You give him a peck on the cheek and smile. "Tokyo seems like a nice place for a date for now."

~*~*~

I hope you enjoyed this fic. :) (And I hope you liked it Lia!!) I guess I can be poetic if I try. lol. I had a whole commentary written out for this fic, but I decided against posting it here and making my author's notes as long as the fic itself. 😂

If you enjoyed this fic, I don't really have any similar pieces of writing at the moment. The only one that's similar is the hurt/comfort Kunimi WIP I've put off writing for so long because I didn't think I could pull off this type of fic. (And also because I think only one person will read it.) The theme in that one is pity/pride because pitiful is Kunimi's most hated word.

Anyway, if you want to see my usual style of writing, I have a cute tooth-rotting fluff Atsumu x reader one-shot. I currently also have an ongoing fake dating chaptered Suna fic, which is probably my best planned fic with the hints and foreshadowing and a nice mix of humour, fluff and shoujo-type angst. :)

I also have a Google form for my taglist if anyone is interested.

[clonecaptains]

kept promises

a fives x f!reader fic~ 

word count: 4k

rating: m - for mild smut 

summary: fives aims to keep his promise to marry you when the war is over. but things get complicated when he’s been shot. this is my fix it fic where fives doesn’t die :) pls enjoy

a/n: fives is the loml and ive been wanting to write about him for so long~~ i hope yall like this!! comments are appreciated!! 

A loud knock on your apartment door stirs you from your sleep. You weren’t resting well anyways, but the bang on the door startles you. You push the covers back and feeling disoriented you rush for the front door. You fear something is wrong because who would be banging on your door at this hour. If Fives was coming home, he wouldn’t knock. He knows the entry code, it’s his place too.

You push the button, and the door opens with a hiss. You’re greeted with the sight of Rex and Jesse standing in your doorway. It’s always nice to see them, but from the looks on their faces it’s not going to be a pleasant visit.

Your face falls and you feel ill.

Fives.

“Is he alive?” you feel tears well up in your eyes and you reach for Rex. His eyes are sad, he carries a weight on him, and you know it.

“For now,” Rex winces to tell you the truth. “He’s been shot.”

Your hand flies to your mouth and Jesse reaches out to touch a hand to your arm.

“We came to get you to take you to him,” Jesse tries to speak as gently as possible.

“You need to pack a bag,” Rex puts his hand on your shoulder. “I can’t tell you why, but you need to hurry. There’s more to this than we can say right now.”

You nod and move aside so the boys can come in.

“Rex? Can you get some things you think Fives might need?” you ask him, you’re not entirely sure of the situation and he nods disappearing back into the bedroom you share with Fives. You yourself grab a bag and begin to stuff random clothing items in it, unsure of what you’ll even need.

This is more your place than Fives, he’s working constantly and only comes once in awhile when he has rare time off. But you have nothing here that really matters to you. What matters is him.

Your bag is stuffed full, and you’re flustered bringing it into the living area. A thin lacy pair of underwear hangs from the top, and Jesse quirks a brow.

“Packing the essentials?” he teases. “Has he seen you in that?”

“No, as a matter of fact he hasn’t,” your face warms and you shove it deeper into your bag and zip it tight.

“Jesse,” Rex’s voice is stern. He might have smiled before, but not now. “We need to go.”

Rex shoulders the bag packed for Fives, and Jesse takes your bag and slings it over his shoulder casually. You follow the boys, and your door closes behind you for the last time.

“Where are we going?” you ask, keeping up with their long strides.

“Can’t tell you,” Rex nods in the direction of a small ship outside your place. You follow them on board and Jesse is quick to get the ship into the atmosphere. He punches in the coordinates and before you know it, you’re off Coruscant headed out into space.

Rex sits down in front of you, and you feel queasy. You know he’s about to tell you something difficult and you’re not ready to hear it.

“You know when Fives sets his mind to something he won’t stop,” Rex smiles softly at that, knowing his brother’s determination. You smile too but a tear falls down your cheek. “He got into something he shouldn’t have, and he was shot for it. We took him off Coruscant for his own protection, and our own. If anyone were to find out about this, we could be in serious trouble.”

You nod. You won’t say a word.

“Besides Jesse and I, Kix is the only one who knows. He’s with Fives now. Get some rest, it’ll be hard to see him when we arrive,” he nods.

You nod back and take his advice. You try and sleep but to no avail. You do lie still and try to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see.

The ship exiting hyperspace stirs you before Rex comes to get you. He’s quiet and patient while you sigh heavily, knowing you’re about to see him.

The planet you land on is one you’re unfamiliar with but it’s beautiful. Trees and mountains fill your sight. The boys take your bags and lead you to a humble little house nestled in some trees near a small pond.

Rex goes in first, and Jesse waits outside with you. Just in case something has happened. They don’t say that, but you know that’s why.

Rex opens the door back up and gives you both a small nod that it’s ok. Jesse puts his hand on your lower back and walks with you into the little house.

It’s a comfortable space, and you’re greeted with Kix as soon as you walk in. He gives you a soft smile and a nod, telling you that it’s ok.

“He’s in the back,” Kix tells you and the boys let you walk into the bedroom alone to see Fives.

In a cozy bedroom, Fives is laying out on the bed on his back. He’s hooked up to a number of machines. You’d seen a medical droid in the living area with Kix, so you know he’s in good hands. But it still breaks your heart to see him like this.

His head has been shaved, and there’s a cut on the right side of his head. It’s been patched up, but you can still see some old blood that seeped through the bandage. He’s shirtless and there’s a bandage wrapped around his chest from where you can only assume is the blaster injury.

You reach for him and touch his shoulder. Then you stroke his cheek with the back of your finger. You place a tender kiss on his forehead before you lay down on the bed next to him. Careful of everything he’s hooked up to, you rest your head on his shoulder.

You fall asleep there and you don’t know how long you stay there with him. It’s Fives who wakes you. His body stirs and you gasp softly sitting up. His eyes open, you can tell he’s exhausted. Even the rich tones of his skin seem paler. But he smiles when he sees you. His hand reaches up to cup your face and he mumbles a mando’a pet name.

He falls back asleep, and you feel tears well up in your eyes again. Just a brief glimmer of the life in his eyes is enough to bring you joy and sorrow.

You think about when you first knew him. How you and your friends would go to 79’s and they would try to push you in Fives’ direction. How if he ever looked your way you’d look away and avoid his gaze. You did this for weeks. Then he’d leave for a mission, and you wouldn’t see him for months.

Before too long, he approached you. And it was his brothers teasing him. Daring him to talk to you and howling when you agreed to go out with him.

You sniffle softly with a smile at the memory of when you kissed him on the cheek, and he was quick to put his helmet on to hide his flustered face.

The boys would tell you later that you were the first person Fives was interested in that made him act like this. Usually he was smoother, more charismatic with charm. But with you? Brain dead. Just as flustered as you.

That was months ago. But it feels like a lifetime ago. He made a promise to you before his last mission that when the war was over, he’d settle down and marry you. He said this a few weeks back before he left. And now here he is, laying on a bed recovering from being shot.

You sit up and press a kiss to his lips before you climb off the bed. You’re hurting and you need some air. And you think it’s wise to tell Kix that Fives woke for a moment.

“Rex?” you whisper, and he’s quick to stand when you speak his name. “Will you walk with me while I get some air?”

You don’t want to be alone right now. Especially not on this strange new planet. And you trust Rex with your life. You don’t know this, but Fives made Rex promise to keep an eye on you if something ever happened.

Rex is right behind you when you step outside. You breathe deeply and he does too. You can’t imagine it’s ever easy seeing one of your brothers hurt like this.

The two of you begin to explore and walk quietly together.

“Fives is a good man. One of the best I know. He’ll make a good husband I think,” Rex smiles offering you his blessing.

“He told you?” your face warms at the thought of him talking about you.

Rex chuckles, “we always knew in the barracks that night if he had a date with you. He wouldn’t shut up. He told me months ago he wanted to marry you.”

You cover your smile with your hand, and Rex smiles seeing the affection on your face.

“Seeing our brothers find joy in this war is a gift. And you have been a true joy to him.”

You spend the rest of the walk in silence. Enjoying the sound of the wind in the trees. It’s peaceful. You see a few animals and some homes nearby. It’s good to know you aren’t truly alone out here.

You can only assume the boys will pack up and leave- no matter the outcome.

But then Rex gets an unexpected message that they are needed. They have to pack up that night. Kix runs you through everything you need to know about what you can do to help. He’ll leave the medical droid there with you to help as best it can.

You can’t help the tears that fall when the boys get ready to leave.

You give each one a hug and a kiss on his cheek. Thanking them for what they’ve done for you and for Fives.

Rex hugs you a little tighter than the rest, and you know he hates to leave you here alone. Kix feels a pang of guilt leaving Fives too, but none of them are even supposed to be here. Kix has already reported Fives as KIA to keep the both of you safe, but it’s hard to leave.

Then it’s quiet. It’s just you and Fives and a droid. Fives is still resting, and the droid is checking his vitals. Based on what Kix told you, Fives sustained a couple broken ribs from the shot. He should be fine, but it will take time to fully heal, and he will be sore.

That’s how you spend the next couple weeks. Fives slowly starts to heal and he’s able to get on his feet. You take walks when he feels like it, and you learn about each other. For the first time in a long time, you have time to spend together. Getting to share meals and stories and watching silly videos on the holonet.

You even find out about the end of the war when you’re here. The turn of the tide. That there’s an empire now. Fives has a hard time that day. Feeling betrayed, knowing he was right. Pain eating him up inside knowing many of his brothers are out there fighting something in their head they can’t stop. The lives that have been lost. Even the Jedi.

He’s quiet for a few days then. Trying to rationalize what it all means. And where he fits in in this galaxy.

When he comes to bed that night, you know he’s haunted.

“Take it easy my love,” you kiss his temple. His hair is starting to grow back and it’s soft to the touch. You smile at being so close to him. You’ve shared a bed with him for the last few weeks, and even before when you lived on Coruscant. But you’d yet to be intimate with him.

You’d never been intimate with anyone at all. And you know the day will soon come that Fives will be your first. And hopefully your only.

“I can’t believe the war is over,” he says gently pulling you into his arms. It’s less and less painful now to hold you. He kisses your stern brow. “And I made you a promise,” he grins.

You’ve thought about that promise every day. Especially when you thought you might lose him. But now it’s even stronger sharing a bed and all your time with him. He’s so close to you. You can feel his warmth and smell his skin. The soft touch of his lips on yours before bed.

When your relationship was new you told him you wanted him. And he told you the same. But you made an agreement to wait until after the war. You can’t really remember why now. Because when you thought you lost him, all you could think about was the moments that might have been lost. Or the regret.

But now that he’s safe, and the war for him is over – you’re glad you chose this. There’s no urgency. And you both know that once he heals, you’ll take that final step together.

And it’s getting closer. A growing feeling in the pit of your belly tells you. Fives is able to do most things now. He had difficulty staying in bed. Staying still. He wanted to get up and move. He thrives off the day-to-day chores around the house and taking care of their land that you’re not sure how Rex even got ahold of.

You woke yesterday morning in Fives arms and his hard length pressing against you. He was just as flustered as you were, but you saw the flame of desire in his eyes. And that flame licked your body all over. You were tired of waiting, but now you had to for him to heal. You would feel terrible if something happened to him for the sake of pleasure. But you could only imagine his wry chuckle in saying he wouldn’t mind at all.

“Fives?” you call to your lover this afternoon out the window. He’s in the back tending to the garden that has begun to grow. He perks his head up at the sound of your voice and he smiles warmly. With his forearm, he wipes sweat off his brow and joins you inside. “How are you feeling my love?” you ask him after he gives you a kiss. You taste the salt from his sweat and you’re aching. You need him. Now.

He knows you, and your looks. He knows what this means.

“Good enough to keep my promise,” he gives a little wink and pulls off his sweaty shirt. He only grunts a little from the movement, but it’s nothing major. You giggle at his eagerness but then feel your knees buckle at the sight of his sweaty chest. Dark hair is dusted lightly over his pecs and lead down to his waistband.

“Fives,” you moan and touch his skin. This isn’t the first time you’ve seen him shirtless or touched him like this. But it feels different now. There’s a scar and a slight yellowing from his bruise almost done healing.

He reaches for the hem of your shirt when there’s a quiet knock on the door.

Fives laughs because you’ve been alone for weeks and now there’s a knock at this moment.

“Who is it?” Fives calls and Rex answers. You both light up at the sound of his voice, and Fives runs to open the front door for him.

Rex looks exhausted. He has a cut on his head in the same place Fives does. And he wears a tan poncho over his armor. Any humor about the moment has gone when Rex sees Fives and hugs him tight.

Something in you tells you that Rex has lost too many brothers over the last few weeks. And seeing Fives alive is a peace he needed.

“I came to check on the two of you,” he tells you finally. “But I seemed to have interrupted you,” he almost looks shy.

“Actually,” Fives stops and looks at you for a moment with a smile. “You might be just the man we need.”

Fives disappears into the bedroom. You and Rex exchange looks as you hear Fives clattering around. He emerges moments later in full armor. There’s a blast mark on his chest plate and you try not to look at it but it’s the thing on everyone’s mind.

“Why did you put this on?” you ask him touching his shoulder. You love how broad he looks in his armor, and you lean up to give him a kiss on the cheek. You love him so much and it’s hitting you hard seeing him in this armor. Just how you could have lost him and yet here he stands.

“Rex? Wanna marry us? Can you do that?”

Rex smiles bigger than you’ve ever seen, and no one really cares if he can legally or not. You’ve been married to Fives for a long time as far as you’re concerned.

“Well wait, I want to look nice too,” you stop and head to your room to put something else on. You choose one of the nicer things you brought with you when you were scrambling to pack all those weeks ago. You put it on and feel giddy with love.

Fives offers you his arm when you come out, and he leads you outside into the quiet of the woods. He takes your hands in his and Rex stands with the two of you.

“You know, I’ve never actually been to a wedding before,” Rex chuckles, getting a loud laugh from Fives. “Fives,” Rex speaks his brother’s name, and Fives stands at attention. “The Republic has fallen. We live in the times of the Empire now. You’ll always be a soldier but this time – your duty is to this one in front of you. Promise me, yourself, but most importantly to your riduur  that you will protect and love with all that you have. I know you will. But it’s an order Fives.”

Rex smiles, and Fives gives a nod. He squeezes your hands, and you know he will keep his promise.

Then Rex looks to you. His eyes are gentle.

“You have been given a gift. And that’s the love of my brother. I know him better than anyone, and I know how much he loves you. I know he would do anything for you. Because I know I would if I were in his shoes. I’m trusting you to look out for him. Protect his heart. I know you have, and I trust you with him.”

By now you have tears in your eyes. But it’s more than just from love- it’s knowing that you have Rex’s trust. He’s one of the best men that you know.

Rex pauses, and steps back a moment. And Fives takes that opportunity to cup your face in his hands and kiss you deeply. Then he presses his forehead to yours and if only you knew then what the gesture meant to him and Rex.

When you part, you reach for Rex and give him another hug and kiss on his cheek.

“I owe you everything,” you tell him, and his brow is stern even with his small smile.

Fives then grabs Rex in an even bigger hug and kisses him loudly on the cheek. They touch foreheads and then Fives laughs shoving Rex on the shoulder telling him to get lost.

“We have things to do,” Fives laughs again, and Rex can only roll his eyes with amusement.

“Stay safe, I’ll contact you if I need you again,” Rex tells you both and with that he’s gone.

The moment Rex is out of sight, Fives grabs you. His hands are on your hips digging into your skin and his lips are on yours. He’s already moaning into you as he backs you into the house.

He knows that you’ve never been with anyone, and it makes him even more hungry to touch you. He’s eager and excited and between his kisses and tugging off your clothes, he makes sure every action is alright.

He’s so excited that he forgets to undress himself, and he has you naked in front of him while he stands in full armor.

“Fives,” you feel shy and tempted to cover yourself while he stands proud in his armor.

“Oh, right,” he chuckles and begins to take off his armor piece by piece. You help him in between kisses, and he sneaks little butt grabs and smacks while he can. He gets distracted easily by the sway of your breasts as you move, and he squeezes them until you squeak.

When he’s free of his armor and blacks and everything else, he tips you back onto the bed and kisses you all over. Every bit of you that he can kiss, he does. His goatee tickles and you tug on his hair even though it’s still really short.

He finds himself between your legs and he takes his time. Going back and forth between his mouth and his hands until you’re crying out his name. He’s almost too rough in his eagerness and you gasp and giggle pushing him off you. You could cry, you’ve never been wanted so much in your life.

“Sorry,” he presses a kiss to your thigh. “You taste so good,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Don’t be,” you feel warm, “I just want more from other parts of you,” you giggle when he raises an eyebrow.

He slides up your body and delves his tongue into your mouth and squeezes your breast again as he lines up with your entrance. He’s slow moving inside and you cry out in his kiss. Your hands are on his shoulders, and you tell him to wait.

He’s patient and kisses you while you adjust to him. But you can tell he’s ready to move. He grunts and his abs tighten, and he can’t help the wince that escapes his lips.

“Do we need to stop?” you ask him, your voice full of concern.

“No,” he shudders when he pushes in a little deeper. “I need you mesh’la.”

He focuses on feeling the pleasure of it and making sure you feel your pleasure. When you arch your back and press your chest to his, something about the action sends him over and he cries out in your ear as he spills inside of you.

He whispers another apology but you’re moaning and gasp when you feel his thumb press where you need him most. You find your release with a whine.

He pulls out of you but stays on you. He slides down a little and rests his head on your chest. His face nestled between your breasts and his ear can hear your heartbeat pound.

“Happy?” you giggle scratching his head as he nuzzles your breast.

“Happier than I’ve ever been. Are you?” he looks up at you, resting his chin on your sternum.

You nod and scratch his back then his scalp. “I’ve never been so happy in my life. I love you baby,” you tell him.

“I love you cyare,” he mumbles kissing your sternum before laying back down.

You don’t know if he’s thinking the same thing, you are. But all you can think about is how a few weeks ago you were laying in this bed with him hoping he would get up. Hoping he would move. Praying he was alive.

Now that you have him in your arms, you’ve never been more thankful he’s alive. But in this case, you don’t want him to move. He feels too good.

He can feel your heartbeat, and you can feel his warmth. The life is in him again and you truly have never been happier to have him alive. Heart pounding and life in his veins, and that fire of love in his eyes.

[booksweet]

Could I request a Gojo fic/drabble/whatever based around Halsey’s song Colors?? I feel like it fits Gojo perfectly. Angsty. Fluffy. Whatever you’re feeling.

Hollow Purple

starring: sorcerer!Gojo x human!reader

synopsis: there was happiness when blue and red met, but they didn't know grey would claim their place in between them.

contents/warnings: ANGST, SFW, slightly mention of blood, trauma, violence (if I miss something, please warn me), both reader and Gojo are 18+

WC: + 2k

A/N: hello, anon! I swear to god I tried to make it a fluff, but I coulnd't, it screamed angst on my mind. This request reminded me I'm into writing pain stuff like my heart was broken a thousand times, and I wish I could say sorry for the pain, but I'm NOT hahaha no regrets. Enjoy!

tags @noritoshiikamo

main navi | masterlist

You were gone. You were gone and destroyed every piece of him, every inch of him were carved by you.

He knew by the first time he saw you that you'd have so much power over him, you could end him without even using words.

And that's what happened.

You with your beautiful eyes, and beautiful red dress. You broke him.

His blue eyes now devoid of bright, of color.

But he knew it was his fault.

His fault to insist bringing you to his world while you should've had stayed in yours, oblivion to everything related to jujutsu. Yet, he couldn't regret it. He would never regret meeting you, and being with you this whole time until you got apart.

There he was, above the skies, searching for cursed spirits who ran away from him, their fear reasoned since he was the strongest above all. He couldn't care less about their feelings. Within the curtain, without non-jujutsu sorceres, he just wanted to finish that spirits as fast as he could to call his day off and eat some sweets.

"Guess I'll have to go a little rough now, uh?" With a movement of his hands, he felt his cursed energy shaking inside him like an ocean of power, such powers had he overwhelmed by years until he could plenty control them.

But suddenly he felt another presence, aside cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers, he felt a human presence. With a frown of his browns, he took off his blindfolds, revealing beautiful blue eyes, in order to find out who or what was that feeling. His flowing energy all at once disrupted.

And then, he found you. He found you walking calmly through the lonely streets wearing a red dress he could never forget. "What an interesting..." He muttered checking out if you were truly human, six-eyes working hard to find it and, when he was certainly of it, his interest on you just grew even harder.

You were about to cross an alley between two buildings and he took the chance to teleport there by connecting his hands. You took a few steps and stopped to admire some store's window and he couldn't help but wonder how you were still there in that chaotic place so relaxed and withou fear.

"Who are you?" He came closer to you and you stepped back with surprise, staring at that tall white-haired man with suspicious eyes and a smirk on his lips.

"Who's wanna know?" Your hands ready to punch his face if he dared to try something on you. His growing interest reached alarming levels as his heart bumped hard on his chest.

"I'm Gojo Satoru," He said without approaching you, and with a bow, he added. "The strongest above all. At your service."

"The strongest?" You said while lifting your chin up to him in defiance. "Oddly of you to say that, isn't?"

And he at that right moment, he knew he was lost. He was lost to you.

- x -

He was supposed to protect you, he was supposed to take care of you ever since you met. Instead, he brought you danger, he brought you pain, he brought you despair.

What's the point of being blessed with six-eyes if he couldn't protect the only one he cared the most?

Not a bless, but a curse. A sin held upon his shoulders. A burden so heavy he couldn't breath.

A sin so harmful that had stained you. Your naive soul. Innocent. Heavenly.

And he missed you. He missed your red lips. You red clothes. He missed how your smile seemed to warm him just like the red sunset you two watched once. His blue eyes missed staring at your for hours, drowning in yours.

Blue and red.

Red and blue.

Two parts independent from each other, yet they floated against them, their souls wiling to be one.

Convergence and divergence.

Divergence and convergence.

And when both opposites reunite...

The second time you met, Gojo wasn't on a mission and you weren't in danger at all. You had an average day and stopped by a coffee shop to drink some hot coffee, eat your favorite sweet and maybe read your favorite book just to get away from craziness of your life, you wanted to relax. You were at your favorite table, alone, and the costumers were passing around you and you weren't giving them attention when the doorbell left out a "ring!".

He couldn't help but desire some sweets, it was his nature as sweet-eater. He knew he would bring attention to him, he was tall, handsome as hell and was wearing a blindfold, of course everyone would've looked at him.

But you hadn't looked at him. You didn't even take your eyes out of the pages to check what happend at the cafe. Nevertheless, once again you caught his attention and he recognized you from your first meeting. "What do we have here?" He muttered with a glimpse of a smile on the corner of his lips.

He ordered a chocolate cake and signed the waiter to take it to your table. Meanwhile, he moved his long legs on tour way, like you were a force bringing him closer and closer each step. He moved the chair loudly and had his seat in front of you. "Hello, Y/N! Long time no see, ugh?"

Surprised by his suddenly entrance, you put your book down and looked straight at him. That weird man you met months ago, still you felt different about him. "Long time no see, strongest above all" you replied playfully. "What bring your majesty up here?"

— x —

When you third met, it was your first date. That turned into a second, and then a third, a fourth... And suddenly you were about all his life, above your weird friendship. All at once you became the one he needed the most to feel himself.

Yet he chose not to tell you about jujutsu. He chose not to tell you about his powers. About why he couldn't stay a little longer with you at your place. About where he would've been travel out of city for weeks without giving any news if he was okay.

He dissapeared for weeks in a roll. And you worried about him. About his blue eyes. You worried about never going to see him again, even though you didn't figure out what you feared at all.

Once, he came back of one of those long trips, after several weeks of nothing about him, but what he gave you to remind of him — his shirt, a photograph of you two, one of his blindfolds.

And you couldn't help but cry while kissing him. You couldn't help but to say you loved him you never wanted for him to disappear. And he would retrieve, he would say he loved you so hard you had him in your hands. He was yours to be loved, to be destroyed.

The strongest on his knees at a human's mercy.

Had never his eyes sight such a colorful being, such a colorful existence. He was at your mercy, his existence, his entire being was yours to paint, to stain, to rip him apart if you wanted.

And then, when you two lay down together, messy sheets and pillows. Blue and red met once again, but not apart, they were together. That time blue and red turned into a beautiful tone of purple.

— x —

Someday you would find out, he knew it. Yet, he still longed for time to be with you, time to be himself without necessarily being the strongest, the head of his clan, the balance between cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers.

But he knew he had no time, you had no time with him. There wasn't enough time with jujutsu and curses. They would've come for you by anytime.

He masked his worries from you. He always seemed so happy in his nonchalant and playful way. Always trying to annoy you and make you laugh everytime you spent together.

You mocked the "strongest above all" out of him every opportunity you had. And this had him caring about you more and more.

But then it wasn't a joke anymore.

Jujutsu were real.

Cursed spirits were real.

And you were just a human.

Alone.

Blood. Red. Everything is red. Everything is blood. Pain. You were in pain screaming. You couldn't see what hurt you, but that ominous feeling was still there in your place. "What happened? What happened? Who are you? Who are you?" You couldn't help keep muttering it like a prayer, thinking of Gojo who was to come by and see your hurt state.

But Gojo Satoru felt the overflowed cursed energy arisen from your place. His bare eyes naked with worry and, for the first time, fear. And then he broke. Every piece of him.

He found you on the floor, muttering non-sense words — including his name in your dizzy state — blood running over you limbs, torso and head. A cut on your beautiful face. And above you, at the ceiling, that goddamn cursed spirit laughing out loud mocking you. Mocking your pain. Your despair.

He ran out of control. He released this powers untamed, uncontrolled. In a blink of an eye he exorcised that cursed spirit from existence. He was furious, feral. He could bring fire to the world if it means to keep you safe, to keep you alive. "Y/N?" He came closer to you, checking out your pulse as his hand held your wrist. It was so weak his heart almost stopped. "Don't leave me, please. You don't deserve to die."

— x —

When everything fell apart, he took you to Shoko at Jujutsu High nursery. She healed your physical wounds in silence while he stayed by your side. You kept unconscious the process, sometimes mumbling while your expression turned into a painful one.

When you woke up at his place, you said nothing. Nothing came out from your mouth, even though he tried to make you speak. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks. You could hear him say "Love, love, love, please, talk to me" in a desperate broken tone.

Yet you couldn't say a thing.

When purple turned into grey, everything faded away. Everything blurred.

Happiness overpowered by despair and pain. You were broken such as the beautiful thing you two had.

"Y/N, please, please, I'm begging," Once more his voice muffled on your ears. Why they hold such pain? "I'm on my knees, Y/N, please, come back, come back to me."

He told you the truth about him so many times expecting some reaction, something from you. Yet he received anything at all. You were numb to reality, there was nothing he could do about that.

But one day, after weeks and weeks of him trying to call you back, you spoke for the first time. Pale eyes meeting him lifeless. And he felt his world falling apart again. "I want to go" You whispered and he widened his pretty eyes full of tears.

"What, Y/N?"

"I want to leave. I wanto to go away from here. Take me out, take me out, take me out..." You kept saying repeatdly, each time a knife stabbing his heart.

"Y/N, love..." He tried to touch your hair, but you moved away from him.

"No, no," You muttered afraid. "It's your fault. The monsters. The blood. The pain..." You shrunk yourself in your bed, crying. "The nightmares. It's your fault." Your crying getting louder and louder. "I wish I could forget you."

"Y/N, I-I," He struggled his words, afraid and crying. "You know I can protect you, you know I will."

Your voice cold in his ears aside your tears. "No, you can't."

— x —

Blue bright eyes once, but not anymore. Not when the reason they shone for now It's gone. When you've chosen to forget him since your accident.

That was what you asked, to forget. To forget the pain, the blood the nightmares, him...

It was quite easy to manipulate your memories, cursed energy manipulation and then it's done. Not that it means it did not hurt him, but it had to be done.

When light came back to your eyes, Gojo's bright faded away.

When you smiled red, blue was not his color anymore.

When your life was colorful, his was grey and devoid of any color.

Red and blue turned into purple. His heart was craved by yours, when you were together.

Purple danced in front of his eyes as his memories overflowed his mind. Blue eyes crying because of red.

Blue eyes seeing grey because now red is gone forever and blue is alone.

[harbouredsoulss]

Exit Wound - 2nd & Final Part

Author’s note: 

SUPRISE!

I was so close to turning this into three parts. Instead I decided I would make this one longer! I really loved writing this!

I am so excited to share more stories with you! I have so much planned. 

I really really hope you enjoy this! Please don’t forget to like, comment, & reblog. I would really appreciate it 💞

If you’d like to be added to my Tag List for any EZ, Angel, Mayan or all of my fics, just let me know 🥰

You can read Part One here and my Masterlist here. 

EZ Reyes X [OC] Amalia 

Warnings: Injured EZ! Mentions of blood. Swearing! Fluff. SEX. 

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: EZ brought a knife to a gun fight. Now Amalia is stuck having to use her nursing skills to save her boyfriends life. Will she save him?

_________________________________

She sat there for a time, kneeling beside the couch, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he took in unsteady breaths. Angel had begged her to go to bed and get some rest but she couldn’t bring herself to leave EZ’s side. 

Angel tried everything he could think of to convince her to go to sleep but knew nothing he would say could change her mind.

It was moments like this where Angel hoped he would find something like this one day. The unwavering love and commitment Amalia had for his brother was unshakeable and made him slightly jealous, though he would never say that out loud. 

Later on in the night Coco and Gilly had come back to drop off the pain relief and antibiotics. They didn’t stay too long, they could tell just by looking at her she wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone, nor should she be. They left with goodbyes and good luck, though they kept the latter for Angel’s ears only. Amalia was grateful they had gotten back so quick with the supplies and she desperately wanted to wake EZ and give him the medicine as soon as possible but she knew he needed to rest, and decided it could wait until he wakes. 

The minutes ticked down as did the hours as she sat there, eyes trained on the rise and fall of her lover’s chest. For a time, she sat there caressing his face, allowing silent tears to stream down her own.  His forehead was covered with sweat, his temperature rising. She wiped at the beads of sweat with a wet rag, allowing the cold cloth to mildly ease his fever down. 

When dawn was nearing, Amalia found herself drifting in and out of consciousness, head resting on her arm that lay on the edge of the couch, her fingers intertwined with EZ’s. Her mind continued to torture her with fleeting visions of EZ dying on their sofa, blood pouring from his wounds, voice screaming in pain, echoing all around her. There were moments where she would wake with a start, eyes wide, squeezing his hand, running hers up and down his arm just to feel his warmth. To see he was still there with her. 

She continued these bouts of suffering as her body fought for her to sleep and it was only after the third nightmarish vision, she had of losing EZ that her mind rewarded her with a faint memory instead of a twisted dream. It was of a time when their relationship was new and fresh. Yearning, and anticipation reaching the cusp, they had finally given in to their desires. It was the beginning of everything, and that’s where her memory took her.  

Amalia’s body was wrapped in his arms, legs tangled together she couldn’t tell where she began and EZ ended. Her breathing was laboured, hands running up and down tracing the ridges of his chest. It was the night they had first slept together, though this moment was long after they enjoyed each other.

EZ had fallen asleep with his arm around her waist. Sleep didn’t come easy to Amalia that night. She was too buzzed with what they had done. She’d had sex before, and like EZ, she would have drifted off by now but that night everything felt different and it was as she continued laying there listening to his intake of breath, as his dreams consumed him, she soon realised why. 

“How do you feel,” she heard him murmur against her skin. 

“Amazing,” she whispered, a coy smile on her face, “but I thought you were asleep?”

Craning her neck, she turned to look up at EZ and found him just as she thought, fast asleep. It took everything in her to not burst out laughing. She felt ridiculous beyond belief. EZ was talking in his sleep. 

“I love you,” she froze, hand stilling on EZ’s cheek as she heard him speak those words they had never shared before.

“Te quiero, Amalia.” 

The memories were so intense, and powerful Amalia ended up crying herself awake. Though this time when she woke, she found EZ’s head turned towards her, eyes opened wide watching her. 

“You’re awake,” she said, voice cracking. 

“Barely.” he whispered back, wincing as he tried to move his body to face her more clearly. 

“Baby,” she whined, standing up and gently placing both her hands on his shoulders to keep him from moving, “you need to stay put.”

Her face hovered above his as she stood like that, trying to make her point as gently as possible. His eyes stared into hers not before taking in the look on her face, which happened to be wrought with anguish and exhaustion, cheeks tear stained with lips cracked and bleeding. He could only imagine what she had gone through within the past twenty-four hours. 

She didn’t say anything for a moment and neither did he. They just stared at one another. Observing the contours of one another’s faces, making sure to mark this moment in their memory. Though EZ had no problem with that, he never forgets. 

“How long have you been sitting there?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“All night,” she said as she pulled away to sit on the coffee table behind her, “I had to make sure you didn’t die. I wasn’t alone though.” She pointed to where Angel’s sleeping form laid on the recliner positioned to EZ’s right.  

“He refused to leave and kept nagging me to go to bed.”

“You should’ve listened to him.”

“And you wouldn’t have done the same thing? EZ we both know if the roles were reversed – if it were me on this couch right now, you wouldn’t have left my side either. Hell, you would’ve driven me to the hospital.” 

They were at a stalemate both knowing she was right. Both knowing nothing more could be said to contradict her statement. He was madly in love with this woman and wouldn’t live in a world where she didn’t. He would have also stayed.

“If I had lost you EZ, I-I I don’t think I could live with myself.”

She looked at him then and allowed all her despair and anger to seep its way out of her. To expose him to it. His body stilled and he tried to turn away not wanting to see what he put her through. But he looked and watched as she could finally breath in relief. It struck him suddenly – piercingly, as to how much he had put her through, and because of that he could have sworn he heart his heart begin to break. 

“I know,” he whispered, though he knew he would never truly know until he was in the same position. 

There wasn’t much that could be said for what happened. EZ knew he could apologise; profusely, however, it would do no good. What he brought to Amalia – what he put her through was something he knew would kill him had it been her bleeding, damaged body brought to his door step. If it were him who had to sew up her wounds. 

Throughout the day little to no words were shared between them. Though that didn’t mean anything sinister to their relationship. EZ knew once he was better, he could make it up to her and Amalia knew that nothing EZ did to hurt her was intentional. He didn’t ask to be shot. She knew what she was getting herself into when they started dating, hell, even before that. She knew who EZ was and she loved him anyway. 

__________________________

Four weeks later

“No fondling the help!” Amalia said, doing her best to swipe EZ’s wandering hands away which were trying to make their way up her skirt.  

He lay on their bed, wound still covered and healing. He was a lot stronger than that night. Since then, he had been out and about, though his nurse was strict and limited him when it came to wandering around. She was too afraid he would rip open his stitches.  

“It’s not my fault you’re so… sexy.”

Through his healing process Amalia found EZ’s sex drive, which had thus far been neglected, had grown, and at first, she was scared. Too afraid of hurting him, or injuring him further. Though as he began to heal, albeit, slowly, she allowed their nefarious activities to return – though they were limited. She could tell he wanted more than what she gave but she couldn’t quite get past that fear. 

The first time they had sex after the incident involved Amalia on top, hands on either shoulder, straddling EZ’s waist. His wound was still on her mind at all times, as was the fear. EZ couldn’t have cared less. He wanted inside and was willing to have his stitches tear if it meant getting what he wanted. 

She felt like a nervous teenager again who was about to lose her virginity, unsure of what to do with her hands. She was too afraid to put too much pressure on different parts of his body. Too afraid to hurt him. 

“You won’t kill me by touching me,” he said, hands gripping her waist as he ground the most sensitive part of her body onto his, “but not touching me, will.”

A small gasp left her mouth as he repeated the action again. It had been so long since they had touched each other like this, though she was still clothed. She wanted to give in and remove the fear from herself. She was close to doing so, especially when his fingers found her clit. He had moved her panties to the side and began rubbing the little nub slowly. 

EZ loved hearing the sounds that escaped as he teased her. He lay there looking up watching her as he continued to pleasure her, and allowed himself to ease a finger inside. 

“Fuck! EZ!”

He grinned, proud to hear his name on her lips and added another. He could feel the tension within her begin to build slowly as he picked up the pace, and knew she was close, but he was selfish. He wanted to be inside her when she came. 

Removing his fingers, he tried as best he could, withholding a wince, to push his cock inside her. By this point, Amalia had stilled already missing where his fingers had been, not expecting the intrusive entrance of his cock. 

“Ride me,” he rasped, “ride me hard.” 

She did as he begged, disregarding her previous fears.

She fucked him hard and fast, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing throughout the room. His pleasure was ecstasy and that made him numb to the pain. It made him lean forward gripping the back of her neck, pulling her head back so he could lavish her throat with his lips. With one hand on her waist, he allowed the other to find her breasts. He began to tease her nipples one at a time tweaking the little buds enjoying the sounds escaping her as he did so. Soon his mouth ventured down to her chest and gave it the same attention he did her throat. He left small purple bruises on her skin. Some that would have been easy to hide, others more difficult. 

The pressure was beginning to build inside them both, becoming more intense. It caused them to go harder and faster than they did before which Amalia did not think was physically possible. This meant that they had no rhythm. Not that they minded.  They just continued to thrust their bodies towards one another seeking the friction and pleasure they needed to get to the end. EZ’s fingers we back on her clit rubbing furiously, willing Amalia closer and closer to her orgasm. He wanted her to cum first, clenching herself on his cock as he had experienced in the past. He had missed this. Her. 

“Fuck EZ!” She was close, so close. 

“Come on baby,” he panted in her ear, urging her on. 

“I’ve got you,” he cooed, “just let go.”

And she did. 

She screamed his name, voice cracking as he continued to fuck her.

Her clit abandoned, he gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin as he finally brought himself to climax. 

A loud moan escaped him, her name a whisper on his lips that he chose to repeat over and over again as his climax washed over him. His thrusts began to slow as they began to cool down. He brought his face closer to hers, forehead to forehead. Lips brushing each other’s.

“You’re bleeding.” She whispered. 

He looked down briefly and caught sight of his white bandage that now showed splotches of blood.

“It was worth it.” He grinned.

TAGLIST [OPEN]: @appropriate-writers-name​ 

[viltrumitesuperboy]

The King of a People (Thor x Reader)

Back from hiatus. Gender neutral, can be romantic or platonic. I read longer fics than I write so I feel like I could definitely try to write more with a really good idea. So far I get things that I can write short, but I’d like to try my hand at longer works.

Requested by: anon Would you be willing to write a Thor x reader where the reader is also from Asgard and they’re in the refugee ship after the events of ragnarok and both of them just bond with each other? (Before thanos ruined the party)

Word Count: 1470

As you watched your homeland explode into dust, you could feel everyone in the ship deflate. Even through the crowd, you could see the king hang his head in silence. The ship began to move away to prevent getting caught in the blast, and Asgard became a dark spot amongst the stars. Eventually, the crowd dispersed when everyone lost sight of what was once their home.

Thor, the king returned to his place, stood from the throne and turned to his rocky friend, who spoke to him in a cheery tone. Thor pat his shoulder and turned to step away from the window. You had been helping a young child who had gotten hurt on the way to the ship. It wasn't a bad scrape, but you helped dress the wound anyway. When you reached to help them stand up, a hand on your wrist stopped you.

"Let me," Thor said.

He held his hand out to the small child, who smiled and grabbed his hand. Thor pulled them up with a gentleness that contradicted the build of his body, and put his hand on their shoulder.

"If you need to find your family, speak to Heimdall. You'll be alright," Thor promised.

The child rushed off to Heimdall, who was helping a few other people.

"Are you missing someone as well?" the god asked, now standing in your line of view.

"No, it's just me," you said. "It's been just me for a while now."

"May I ask why?"

"I was a warrior. Not anymore. I had a vision one night that a great terror would come to Asgard if I remained a soldier. And when I did, she came. I left almost instantly, but it seems it was my fault anyway."

Thor looked thoughtful, and gestured to the hallway that led further into the ship. You followed him in silence.

"Just before I came back, my father told my brother and I of Ragnarok, the end of Asgard. If anyone caused it, it was me. I had to destroy our homeland to stop Hela. Do not blame yourself for anything that has happened because you and every Asgardian are the reason that you have all survived," Thor sincerely told you.

There was a pause, mostly because you didn't know what to say.

"Also, thank you for your service," he rushed out.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you laughed.

"I've heard people on Midgard say it to their warriors. Asgard is so different and we have our traditions, but maybe we should start thanking our warriors. They've all just died to protect a planet that no longer exists. If you are one of the only few left, perhaps thanks are in place."

"Well, thank you for coming back to us. We needed you. Nothing against your brother. It was very peaceful when he ruled, actually."

Thor chuckled, his face now more visible because of his short hair.

"Sounds just like him. I'm going to search for him, if you wouldn't mind," he said.

You bowed and he gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes, continuing to walk down the hallway. He no longer had the regal stance of a prince, but a humbled one of shame and regret. Gone was the arrogant prince you served years ago. In his place was a man beaten down by so many things, but his hope remained.

———

"Thor. If you value your other eye, you will keep that away from me."

"I promise it's nothing bad! I just want to try something."

"I know what you're doing! And when you electrocute me, I am going to stab you!"

You walked into the large piloting room in the ship to see at least a dozen people spread out around the area, watching Thor and Loki bickering. Thor held a goblet of water, and Loki, who looked like he had taken a bath with his clothes on, was backed up in a corner and fending him off with a chair. Brunnhilde was sitting in the large seat, facing them as she played with some device.

"Hey, what's going on?" you asked, stepping up next to Thor.

"Ah, (Y/N)! Recently, I realised that my powers don't come from Mjolnir," he began.

"Don't listen to him!" Loki snapped. "He's trying to pour the water in a path to me so that he can use his powers on the water and electrocute me."

"Thor, do you have anything to say?" you asked, turning to him.

"In my defense, he's the best person to try it on! If we're both hurt, we heal quickly. And he gets to stab me in return, so it's fair," Thor said.

He didn't sound convinced of his own plan, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"So you're telling me you couldn't try it on an inanimate object?"

He paused, thinking to himself.

"I.. suppose not. Come, (Y/N)! We have things to do!"

He placed the goblet on the floor and marched off to one of the hallways. You looked to the prince, then to Brunnhilde, who had given him a towel to dry off with.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want Thor getting into any trouble," you said.

"Then hurry up and follow him. I'm not the one you should be worrying about," Loki replied, glancing at the Valkyrie. "Worry about her. She's an angry girl."

"Just go. Also, convince him to let us stop somewhere for supplies. And alcohol," Brunnhilde said.

You apologised again and ran off, catching a glimpse of a smirk on their faces. When you caught up to Thor, he was waiting for you outside a room.

"Your Majesty, how did you know my name?" you asked.

"Please, call me Thor. I asked Loki. He seemed to know a lot about you."

"Why were you asking about me?"

Thor froze, then began to stammer for a bit. He shut his mouth and walked into the room, as if you'd forget about it. It was funny to see the confident god flustered, and you laughed to yourself as you stepped in to follow.

———

The ship was quiet, as most people had gone to sleep. Because space was always dark, Thor had made set times for sleep to imitate the original night and day of Asgard, which people easily followed. He was their king, after all. Brunnhilde stood beside him as they both looked outside into the enmity space, with stars littered all around. You stepped up the platform to stand beside Thor.

"It's strange knowing that I only got to see Asgard one last time and aid in its destruction," Brunnhilde said.

"We served our people, and that's what matters most," you said. "Thor refuses to let me forget that it's not my fault that I survived and everyone else didn't."

"It's not your fault," Thor said.

"Then why are you blaming yourself?" Brunnhilde asked quietly.

The three of you were silent, until she let out an awkward cough.

"Alright. I'm drinking until I fall asleep. Bye."

She walked away. It was probably the most heart-to-heart you'd get from her.

"She's right. What happened with your sister wasn't your fault, and it wasn't yours either. Ragnarok was supposed to happen, whether we like it or not. And we still have the people, don't we? That's where Asgard truly is."

You turned to look at him. His face was hardened, but his remaining eye told you all you needed. He was so tired of losing people all the time. He lost his brother multiple times without knowing if he'd ever come back. If he lost his people, he'd lose his hope too. You took a step closer to him, leaving only a small space between the two of you.

"Thor, look."

He turned to you, then behind when you gestured to the ship and the few people still hanging around the area.

"Those are your people, and they're safe. They're looking forward to a new life. Even Heimdall understands that he must let go of his original position guarding the Bifrost and to guard his people instead. You need to let go of your past and be the leader that they need."

He turned back to you, and faced forward to the stars.

"There are so many worlds, and it had to be ours that was destroyed," he said, his voice rough. "I don't know what to do next."

"Well, look at all of this."

You gestured to the empty space full of stars and planets.

"You've chosen where we go next, and we have all of this universe to explore," you said. "You've given your people hope. Blaming yourself will not move us forward."

His hand reached for yours and grasped tightly. You held it back just as strong. After a few moments of silence, he exhaled shakily.

"Thank you."

[karajaynetoday]

i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings

image credit 

hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey​ for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings:  mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

I'll be honest, I'm alright with me

Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets

The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth. 

It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later. 

You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go. 

Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.

“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.

“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted. 

But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget

Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.  

You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.

It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black. 

Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio

Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go

The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.

“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.

“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.

“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.

As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room. 

“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.

“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.

The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by. 

Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories. 

I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days

I'll be honest, It's better off this way

The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.

The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces).  “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.

“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.

“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?

The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.

You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result. 

You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way. 

When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone

Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know

Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!   @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon  @oyesmendes​ @andrianawinchester @333-xx  @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara  @killmywildflower​

[whenwordsmakesense]

Another first sentence + 5 sentence fic, "I hate it when you're being a martyr!!?"

Lol, next time just send me a sentence. I don't think I'll ever be doing "only" +5 sentences xD

Okay, okay, so this isn't from my *THE* time-travel fic, but the thing is... I just love the idea of a bamf!sterek that go back in time and don't tell anyone about the truth and then comes this CONFRONTATION and everyone else is confused/in awe.

Quick rundown of dynamics, just because: Alpha Talia Hale. Human/Alpha Mate Nathaniel Hale. Betas Peter Hale, Laura Hale, Cora Hale, Claudia Stilinski. Human Noah John Stilinski. Alpha Derek Hale (but he presents as a beta to everyone except Stiles). Human Stiles Stilinski (but he is actually a spark, the strongest there is).

Idk their ages, but you can imagine Stiles as a 15/16 year old teen (he's mentally older, of course, think like... hmm... let's say he came back in time at age 21. So he should be 30, mentally). That makes Derek 21/22 (mentally 36).

Okay, enough rambling, now let's get down to the fic!! I'll be writing this from Laura's POV. Also, tell me if I should post this one on AO3? Now it's on AO3!

The Moon's Come Out

"I hate it when you're being a martyr."

Stiles' voice is a soft whisper underneath the chaos of blood and death, but it's not quite enough to drown under. It's a resigned exhale of breath, a truth so absolute that it's no longer just a truth. It's a fact.

Laura Hale wonders when her baby brother aligned himself to such a fact. She wonders lots of things about her baby brother.

She remembers the day when it all changed. When Derek changed. It was subtle, but it was prominent.

She remembers when she'd helped Derek with his flirting skills. Paige, she remembers; the same Paige who had once held Derek's eyes had been rendered into nothing that day. No, not nothing—something else. Something deeper. Something like grief.

But why would Derek grieve someone living? It's a mystery, but more than that it's an act shared between Derek and Stiles—like they're barely tethered to the world, and every moment with anyone but each other is like a gift and a curse, all in one.

But this isn't the time to think about it, how it feels like she's lost Derek once.

It's time to save him.

"Mom," her voice is a barely there sound, but her mom, her Alpha, she's here.

And she's silently crying.

"Mom, we need to- need to help him,"

Her mom is nodding her head, and they're moving between the bloody bodies—hunters, who'd come to kill them, only to die by Stiles'... everything.

Laura feels she can save him.

"Stop." Stiles' voice is still a whisper, but it's an order. A command.

Her mom—Alpha Talia Hale—stops in her tracks, and Laura, with her injured leg has to stop with her.

Dad is shouting at Cora to stay back, and John is trying to free Claudia and Peter from their confines, and Laura can hear all that. But right now, her world boils to where Derek is. On the ground, only a few feet away but so, so far away, spitting blood out of his mouth as his healing tries to kick in where the bullets are lodged on his body.

Bullets. Because Derek had jumped in front of the hunters when they started shooting at Peter and Claudia. And they're all wolfsbane laced.

Laura opens her mouth to protest, to shout, but Stiles doesn't let her.

He's always stopped her from talking.

She hates Stiles.

He's taken Derek away from her. From the pack.

"I can deal with this, you don't have to worry,"

"You can't order me around." Laura's eyes flash at her Alpha's tone, and she bares her neck.

Stiles' jaw sets with a determined look. "Oh, yeah? You really think so, Talia?" Laura watches him as he speaks, words fast paced and laced with worry and fear and anger. It's an ensemble of emotions, but even Laura has to admit that there's always been something special about this kid. His hands work as he talks.

"I mean, maybe you do. You Hales always think you know the best, don't you? It's like you think nobody else has any brains but you. Well, except Peter. That fucker is just too clever for his own good and he knows it. But he at least knows not to underestimate others. That's more than I can say for you, Talia. Or Laura. You two are so similar, you know?"

Laura does. She does know. And she is proud of that fact. But Stiles says it like a curse, like being so similar to her own mother—her Alpha—is nothing short of the worst thing.

Laura wonders why. She wonders a lot when it comes to Stiles.

"Stiles," everyone stops at that voice, as if freezing in place would freeze time itself.

Laura has been tortured, she's seen more blood than she needs to today, and she'd cried herself hoarse when they'd started to torture her previously unconscious mom. And then she'd wanted to die when the hunters turned their guns toward Cora, Claudia and Peter. So much so that she'd barely noticed Derek somehow escaping from his own personal confinement, the shackles he was in, all of it covered in wolfsbane. Neither had she witnessed Stiles breaking the literal cage the humans of their pack had been put in. But the thing that truly, truly scares her isn't any of those things. No.

It's losing Derek. Her baby brother (he used to hate it when she called him that, but when he changed, that hate turned into a grieving sort of fondness, like this was something he'd missed), who feels more like an adult than she is, her Derek. She can't lose him. She just can't.

It would break her. It would break the pack. Derek has always been the heart of it, the sweet little kid who is adored by his sisters and trusted by his parents; the man who even Peter respects, and Claudia cherishes like her own son, and John who calls him a good man.

It's no surprise they all just stop when Derek speaks for the first time since he was shot. And oh, was it only minutes ago? It feels like hours.

"Finally coherent, huh?" Stiles asks Derek, like Derek speaking right now is no big deal. Like it's that easy to try and repel the poison of wolfsbane.

"Shut up," Derek coughs out, voice throaty and weak.

"Derek," someone calls out. It's choked with tears, and it's a female, and it's her voice. "Derek! Please don't die,"

Derek tries to move his head, but falls back on the ground with a thump. Stiles swats at him, and Laura only now notices that Stiles' hands are covered in blood, one anchored on Derek's chest while the other digs around one of the holes. There's a host of bullets lying on the other side; Stiles throws another bullet there.

Perhaps everyone notices the same thing just then, because everyone makes a noise, a wail of pain and disgust and fear, all of it mixed in one sound.

Her mom has lost all her fight in herself, and Laura deflates, too. Stiles seems to know what he's doing.

And he doesn't seem to care what he sounds like.

"No, shut up? Me? Shut up? I swear to the fucking moon, you asshole, if you die on me I'll follow you. I'll fucking follow you there, because nothing is left for me here, okay, and I know you know that. You know this. How could you even do this to me? I told you to wait for my signal! I never would have let them get hurt, Derek! No, no, shut up! You keep your words to yourself and you listen, you goddamn martyr, you listen.

You made me a promise. When we came back, you promised me we'd be together. Always. We'll fix things, then we'll live, and then we'll die. Together. But you-you broke that promise, Der. You did tha-that,"

Laura is missing something. They all are.

Stiles' voice is a steady stream, a flow broken only by the cracks in his voice and the anger in it. And then it's a whisper, the height of his voice toppled down by his sorrow.

Derek smiles softly, as if Stiles worrying himself to death about him is not a new thing. Like Derek almost dies on a constant basis, and this is a routine they have—Stiles worries, Stiles shouts, and then Derek smiles because he's still here. He isn't gone yet.

Laura watches as Derek puts his weight on his elbows, brings his face close to Stiles'. Nobody interrupts them, still frozen in time, still processing what they just went through. Stiles shuts his eyes.

"I am here. I am here, Stiles," Derek tells Stiles, and Stiles takes a shaky breath, and it hangs there, that breath—the worry, the anger, the pain, everything—between them, before Derek lunges forward and presses his lips against Stiles'.

There are a few sharp breaths, and a hysterical giggle from Claudia. "I told you," she says, and Laura thinks she's saying it to John.

Laura isn't exactly surprised. She's caught them kissing multiple times, and she's always wanted to tattle on them. And she would have, because this is wrong—Stiles is a teenager and Derek is an adult—but Stiles is clever and somehow always a few steps ahead of her. He knows all of her secrets, and she'd rather he didn't but that's not the life she has. No, the life she has is—

—clearer in hindsight. She thinks back on those kisses, shared in the early mornings or late nights, between whispered words that Laura couldn't make out and with a desperation that went beyond the desperation of wanting a good time.

And she looks now, looks at the way Stiles' breaths are shaky and labored, but his hands are steady, even as he brings flames appear out of nowhere and presses it against Derek's bullet wounds. She looks at the way Derek has his forehead pressed against Stiles', and how he moves his head to Stiles' neck at the precise moments that the fire touches his skin. Like he's done this before, knows how to keep his pain between him and Stiles. She looks at the way Stiles' other hand, still bloody, tangles in Derek's hair, comforts him, like he's the only comfort Derek needs in this world.

She looks at the way Derek's body heals, like even his body is used to being hurt like this.

"It all makes sense," Peter's voice brings her out of her thoughts, and she turns to look at him. He's vibrating with excitement. "The way they talk—the way they behave—it all makes sense!"

Laura doesn't want to know. She doesn't want to know how this much blood and death and crying and confusion could ever make sense.

But if knowing is the answer to ease the burden on Stiles' and Derek's shoulders, she'll take it. She will know.