#you can see that he's on the verge of change at that moment. somewhere deep inside him DO care for ursaal. that bonding is slowly changing
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HI CRIS....cried a little while drawing this and cried a little more while reading your tags. thank you for leaving these it means so so much to me and I wanted to talk about him a little more😭
even if I want to believe, it's already too late.
#SO SO SORRY GUYS THAT YOU HAVE TO SEE ME LIKE THIS DONT MIND ME I JUST REALLY NEED TO LET THESE OUT#thragg#grand regent thragg#OK OK FIRST OF ALL i'm so glad you brought up the idea of comparing him with icarus. OUGH. so true forEVER NEED I SAY MORE#it's funny bc im always feeling like lex luthor from. that scene in bvs whenever i think about his final battle#you flew too close to the sun..............#the way his ambition led up to his downfall. his entire existense being wiped away by the sun. there's nothing left not even ashes-#-just like how the empire was under his leadership. built upon pillars of sand#mark's words hit me so hard "under your leadership the viltrumites stood for nothing FOUGHT FOR NOTHING. JUST LIKE YOU”#HE CAN'T SEE IT AND MORE IMPORTANTLY HE CAN'T ALLOW HIMSELF TO SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#he really ended up killed by his own pride and fake visions for the empire he loved didnt he.I wonder if there was ever a moment for him to#realize how blind he was. how misguided he was. how selfish and pathetic he had always been#-so i started to think about what his own burning horse lamp could be like. the life flashing before his eyes at the final moment#there would be argall's skull. faces of his people. stars in front of the windows of the moon base.the pity in emperor nolan's eyes and how#much it reminded him of argall's#onaan's death. and the disappointed look on ursaal's face.#ursaal is definitely the key to his redemption if there was any given chance. their hug means everything to me do you understand!!!!#it fascinates me how invincible is really always about love and change hidden under blood and gore. and that includes thragg too#you can see that he's on the verge of change at that moment. somewhere deep inside him DO care for ursaal. that bonding is slowly changing#him just like how mark did to nolan. He was struggling with that new emotion and pushing it away because it goes aganist with-#his sole purpose-his entire reason to exist-he was raised to be the grand regent of viltrum. it's even HARDER for him to accept that feelin#than nolan&other viltrumites. he puts the glory of his empire so high that's above everything. there's no room in his heart for compassion#for love- for such. weakness#I keep thinking about how his fate is really doomed from the beginning BECAUSE HIS LIVING PURPOSE IS TO LEAD THE VILTRUM EMPIRE THAT'S JUST#HOW HE WAS RAISED. AND IT'S FUCKING ME UP BECAUSE MAYBE THINGS COULD BE DIFFERENT FOR HIM TOO MAYBE HE COULD HAVE THE CHANCE TO CHANGE#but if he wasn't born for this role. will it still be him?#there was so so much potential in his character. on the writing way i'm absolutely devastated how his whole story just ended there-#but on the other hand. dying in the sun really is the perfect ending for him.#he's not only icarus to me....he's also the god of sun#i can't get over his death bro it's a whole tragedy there
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subspace // Matty Healy x Reader
a/n: requests are open ;)
summary: you use your safe word with matty and his attitude changes completely from mean to loving when you go into subspace
content warning: 18+ MDNI, p in v sex, rough sex, overstimulation,Use of safe word, aftercare, babying reader
based on this request
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Matty just came back from tour and he had to have you. Not that it bothered you because when he came back with the mustache you jumped his bones, craving him as much as he did. Craving love.
He was frustrated, almost angry, wanting to take his feelings out on you in some way. He made sure you know your safe word before you started, which meant he would not show any mercy.
He‘s being rough with you, selfishly trying to make you cum for the third time. It’s a blessing of course and some times you’re definitely up for spice in bed but today’s different, today it just hurts.
You’re on the verge of tears. You want to enjoy it, you want to enjoy it so badly, because the first two orgasms were fucking amazing, but your brain is slipping, and everything hurts in a bad way. As he thrusts into you, pain shoots down your thighs.
„Look at you, crying over my cock,“ he groans in your ear, his face being next to yours, not being able to see your facial expressions but hearing you sniffle. „Filthy fucking whore.“
You jerk backwards, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “What do you think you’re doing?, you aren’t goin’ anywhere love.“
His hips snap roughly into yours, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.
„Matty, please,“ you’re begging for him to stop but he doesn’t know that. He thinks you’re begging for him to continue, his thumb coming down to rub your clit. You jump, whining at the overstimulation.
„Please? You’re a beg.“ His teeth sink down into your shoulder, trying to keep him from cumming before giving you another orgasm. „Didn’t remember you being so greedy, show some manners.“ He grumbles, his hand giving your thigh a slap. It hurts so bad you jerk away from him again, not pleasing him with your action.
„Now you’re just asking for it,“ he bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers.
„Manchester,“ you whisper into his arms but he keeps going, his thumb still on your clit. You think he’s ignoring you, being actually mad at you for something. “Manchester Matty, Manchester .” You scream, trying to push his body away.
His motions come to an immediate stop, his face coming up from your neck, looking into your eyes where he finally finds your exhausted, desperate look.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Matty curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he rolls off of you, cupping your face in his hands, “love are you alright?”
He pauses for a moment, expecting to get a response from you, at least a blissed out hum. However, when he gets nothing in response, he is instantly worried.
“Shit, darling you with me?” Your eyes are somewhere else but definitely not in the room with you. Matty realizes that you’re in subspace, wanting to get up to pull a shirt over your head, when you grab his hand, too freaked out.
“Matt- m’sorry,” you have his arm in a tight grip, too afraid that he’s gonna leave you alone. “Sorry,” you say again.
“Love, shhhhh,” he quietly responds as he lowers himself back down on to you. You are bsolutely beyond floaty. He wraps himself back around you, keeping one hand one your cheek, to rub soothing circles into it. “Don’t apologize.”
“Take some deep breaths baby, can you do that for me?” You nod one time, somehow not being able to move more. “Good love, breathe in through your nose on 3, then out through your mouth.”
He’s breathing with you a couple of times, knowing that it’s calming your racing heart. “Thank you love, did so good.” He takes your hands in his and gently brings them to his lips.
You’re still not moving, one leg of yours draped over Matty’s thigh to make sure he’s not going to move. Matty of course wants to draw you a bath, clean you and get you dressed but that’s not what you want. Not yet.
“Did I hurt you?” Matty’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.
You nod, “a little.” Matty’s head shoots up, his eyes filled with worry, trying to actively see where you’re hurt. “S’ okay Matty-“
“Fuck,” he says, “it’s not, shouldn’t have hurt you love.” He leans his head down to kiss your forehead a couple of times. “I’m so sorry baby.”
You feel yourself drifting back to reality again, Matty’s touch feeling so real. Shame and guilt washing over you as you think about what happened. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” His thumb brushes over your lip, “you did the right thing, no need to apologize, understand?”
The tear that rolls down your cheek is caught by Matty’s thumb, “but I don’t ever want to let you down.”
“Baby,” his arms wrap around your thigh but then he flinches, “can I?” You give him the okay and he lifts you onto his lap.
“You could never ever let me down, ever,” your head falls against his shoulder, not wanting him to see your puffy eyes. “You’re always so good to me, I’m so proud of you.”
You nod against him and then again after he speaks again. “You always have to tell me ‘f I hurt you alright?”
Both of you close your eyes for a couple of minutes, feeling the heaviness float way into thin air as Matty rubs your back and whispers apologies into your ear.
“Let me run you a bath, how’s that sound?” His hands grip your thighs softly, pulling you from his lap so he can stand up. The cold air hits your body, still naked and the blanket only covering your feet.
Matty puts a pair of boxers on before turning to you, meeting your watery eyes. “Baby, I’ve got you.” he says as he moves his thumb to your chin.
“What do you need?” He it’s clear to see that you’re a bit uncomfortable and still shaky from the previous action.
“I love you,” you mumble, not answering his question but your word still comes across as if you only need him to stay.
“I love you too, baby.” Matty pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “Can you walk to the bathroom?”
You sit up and go to stand, but your legs are shaking, so you grip his arm. He frowns gently, and then asks, “Is it okay if I pick you up?”. Again, all you can do is nod. He carries you into the bathroom, over to the tub, before setting you down on the edge.
Matty turns on the water tap, feeling the tight temperature, before giving you a small kiss and going into your bedroom to pull clothes out of your drawer.
He picks one of his t-shirts, a pair of underwear and a pair of Pyjamas, before going back into the bathroom.
“Come on,” he says softly, carrying you bridal style into the tub. He crawls into the tub behind you, pulling you close to his chest as he begins to wash your skin, making sure to lather and massage your scalp.
You know he feels guilty about pushing you so far, but that thought is so far in your brain. He makes sure you’re nice and clean, rubbing your arms gently.
You let your head rest against his chest, enjoying the warmth of the water and his massaging motions on your skin. “Does it still hurt anywhere?” You shake your head, telling him the actual truth because he’s already making you fell better.
“Good baby,” you smile as he preps your face with kisses.
The two of you spend quite some time in the bath with Matty running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Matty washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.
After you both realize the temperatures loosing its warmth, he stands up, taking your hands.
“We gotta get up,” before you get too cold, he just comes from behind begins to dry you off, making sure to grab the softest possible towel.
He tells you to sit down again, he kneels down in front of you and begins to dress you. You want to object but Matty knows you too well.
“I want to,” He says softly, leaning down to kiss your leg gently as he slips on your pajama shorts. Then, he says, “Lift your arms for me,” and you comply, letting him slip the tee shirt on.
After brushing your hair and putting it in a ponytail he lefts you up again, putting you into bed, pulling the blanket over your body.
He puts on a shirt for himself and the settling next to, immediately pulling you into his arms. “Shouldn’t have been so rough with you.” He mumbles.
“It’s okay, seriously.” You promise.
“I’ll watch out better, love you incredibly much.” He holds you closer.
“You’re perfect.” You lift your head, kissing his lips, feeling his mustache tickling the area under your nose.
#the 1975#ross macdonald#matty healy#george daniel#adam hann#the 1975 fic#matty healy smut#matty healy fluff#matty healy imagine#matty healy x you#matty healy x reader
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For the drabble/blurb request
Character: magnus
Prompt: "you're ruling the way that I move and I breathe your air, you only can rescue me" from a song called cherish the day by Sade 🙂
Unfixable
Warnings: this got quite sad... 👀 angst, mentions of breakup, sad Magnus hours
Word Count: blurb
a/n: Thank you for the request! I really hope you like this lil' blurb! Kudos to @muddyorbsblr , who helped me along a bit! 🤗
He waited in the shadows of the building across from the house you lived in; too afraid to confront you right away. He hadn't gathered enough strength yet. And besides, he didn't want to scare you. So, he waited in the pouring rain until the light in your apartment flickered to life.
Magnus could already feel the rain soaking through his thin jacket, when he carefully crossed the quiet road.
Taking a deep breath, the young policeman entered the building, took the stairs which led to the second floor and came to stand in front of your door. For a good moment, Magnus just stared at the silvery doorknob; hesitating.
Should he knock? Should he just leave again?
He was on the verge of just leaving again, when somewhere from deep within his subconscious echoed a voice; urging him on to just knock. Man up, Martinsson. Just do it!
Before he was able to think twice about it, a shaking hand raised to knock against the door. Magnus' knuckles kissed the wooden surface and in that moment he knew it was too late to back down. His brain was too caught up with panicking - and therefore he didn't even notice how the door swung open. Only the sweet, angelic sound of your voice caused the warning bells in his head to fall silent.
"Magnus?"
He was very sure that at the call of his name, his heart jump over the cliff; free-falling and landing somewhere on cloud nine.
"What... What are you doing here?"
The blond haired man needed a moment to get a grip again. Puppy dog baby blue eyes met yours. "I-I..." Magnus started to stammer; fumbling with his hands nervously. "I'm sorry for just... barging in, but..." He sighed. "I can't forget you, Y/N. I know I screwed up big time, but please... I beg you... Please give me another chance."
You swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Magnus... We talked this over so many times... I told you I can't do this a second time." Magnus squeezed his eyes shut; shaking his head. "I know, Y/N, but... You don't understand, I- Since months I feel lost. Falling down an endless abyss and you are the only one who can rescue me. I... I still love you."
His words hit you hard. You couldn't deny that they still sent a shiver down your spine, but- No... You reminded yourself. Not a second time.
"No, Magnus. I feel flattered, but we can't fix this. I'm sorry."
His heart broke right in front of you. You saw it - and it hurt you to the core. But you couldn't change the past or rewrite the future.
Carefully, you took his way too big hand in his and squeezed in a reassuring, apologising manner. "I'm sorry..." You whispered - and let go; your hand leaving his forever.
And before the pain could get unbearable, you took a step back and closed the door shut in front of Magnus.
You didn't see how the young man fought hard to hold back his tears - in vain. Or how his knees started to buckle; almost failing him as he found himself staring at the closed door once more. A door which would stay locked for him; not opening again.
Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @brokenpoetliz @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger @vbecker10
#campfire sleepover#2k follower celebration#magnus martinsson#magnus martinsson wallander#magnus martinsson x reader#magnus martinsson x you#magnus martinsson x y/n#tom hiddleston characters
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Undercover Problem
Summary: You volunteered to go on an undercover mission without really reading the mission report or acknowledging that there would be someone going with you. When you learn that you would have to pretend to be married to Marcus Pike on this mission you end up having a nervous breakdown. Because you're 34. And you have never been kissed.
Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem. reader (though it can be read as gn. reader)
Worcount: 2.8k
Rating: G
Warnings: made up facts about the FBI and undercover missions, anxiety attacks, food, fluff, humour as a coping mechanism, fluffffff
A/N: This goes out to all the late bloomers (and everyone else who just want to read a cheesy first kiss) If I missed anything that makes the reader gender neutral let me now. I tagged this as fem. reader because I always write with a female reader in mind.
follow me @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics to get notified for new fics
You walked through the FBI headquarters with, what you hoped looked like, a professional smile plastered to your lips, nodding at anyone who greeted you. Trying to appear not like you were fleeing to your office.
You could only hope nobody could see the anxiety attack that you were on the verge of having.
The door of your office was almost in front of you when you heard your name being called behind you by a familiar voice.
Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, before you changed your destination towards the women's bathroom. Somewhere where you wouldn’t have to tell him to leave you alone.
“I gotta use the restroom quickly. I’ll find you after,” you turned around briefly, catching Marcus Pike’s eyes for a fleeting moment before you practically ran down towards the restroom.
This was fine.
It would be totally fine.
You were fine.
Sitting on the toilet seat in the thankfully empty bathroom you massaged your temples, taking deep breaths. You had finally stopped shaking, your chest fully and slowly expanding as your lungs filled with much needed air.
It shouldn’t have taken you by surprise that the meeting you had just attended was about the mission your boss had approached you about earlier this week. For years you had worked on getting information on Claudio Monero, the highest ranking mob boss of the Monero Mafia clan in the States.
It was your first big case and you were proud of the progress you made not only in your division, but in working with many different crime divisions at the bureau.
Claudio Monero also was involved in art crimes, which was the reason you had been working closely with Agent Marcus Pike, Senior Agent of the FBI art crime division.
He was…. Honestly made straight out of a fairytale. He was funny, he was caring, he had your breakfast order down after three days of meeting for the first time and he was so fucking handsome in an almost annoying way. You sometimes asked yourself if he was real.
You caught female (and male) Agents secretly swooning over him more than once in the break room. And you couldn’t blame them.
You definitely had a crush on him, which also was your problem because… you had no fucking idea how to act on it. If you would act on it that was.
Because the… maybe sad or let's say unique/different/annoying fact was, that at the tender age of 34 you had never been on a date. Or been kissed. Or… well you get the idea.
And up until Marcus Pike strolled into your life with his smile and dimples and warm brown eyes, you never really thought about another man (or woman) like that. Like you wanted to know what made them laugh. How they spend their lazy Sunday mornings. How they tasted.
But ever since then it was like a switch was flipped in your brain and you had no idea what to do.
Was this how teenagers felt in puberty? Because your parents more than once told you that they felt like you skipped that part of growing up and went straight to adulthood at the tender age of thirteen.
Only one friend knew about your… lack of experience. You had tried to tell someone else once a long time ago, only to find out they had told everyone they knew about it, making you the weird one. Ever since then you lied about it to not feel like a weirdo. God you were a mess.
Which brought you to your current problem.
Claudio Monero would be in Washington next week for a charity gala and the FBI had managed to get two invitations. Two agents would pose as newly married couple Colin and Riley Rogers who had made a name for themselves selling forged art.
That should have been your first hint on who would go undercover with you.
You volunteered to go undercover when you heard about it the first time and your boss had a long talk with you, because this would be your first time going undercover.
She only did not mention everything that would be included on the mission.
You probably should have read the fine print when she gave you the mission report.
There you would have read that not only are the two undercover Agents freshly married and very in love, no. That married couple also was open about visiting swinger parties, something Claudio Monero was heavily involved in and known for in the community.
Which meant that the FBI Agents also would attend one of his swinger parties in two weeks that he had planned in DC. Of course without the intention of…. Partricipating in any kind of sexual relations (the FBI could not force their Agents to have sex for the sake of getting information, though they did not explicitly forbid it).
Had you known that, you probably hadn’t volunteered like the dumb idiot you were.
That was the first time today you almost had a nervous breakdown in the fully seated meeting room as your boss presented the plan for the undercover mission.
But then you learned that the other Agent who would go undercover with you, the man you would have to pretend to be newly wedded and very much in love with, would be Agent Marcus Pike.
You don’t remember much of the meeting after that, only his eyes on you, his stupid pretty face giving you an encouraging smile that slowly dropped the longer he looked at you, replaced by a frown and maybe even concern the longer you had been stuck in the meeting.
You bolted out of the door as soon as the meeting was finished.
This… was a fucking mess.
But you could do it. Right?
You knew that your co-workers were wondering about your private life after working together for almost ten years and never bringing anyone to any kind of Christmas party or get-together you had throughout the years.
More than once had Agent Murphy tried to ask you out, only for you to shut him down firmly last year. He spread some rumours about you being uptight and difficult after but you couldn’t care less.
Now you wondered if Marcus had heard those rumours too.
God, Marcus.
You’d have to get close to him. Closer than you ever had been with anyone really. Or you could… quit. Move to another country and live on a tiny Greece island and make feta cheese until you die.
There was a knock on the door and you jumped to your feet.
“Sorry. I’ll be right out,” you called, releasing a sigh.
“Are you okay?” It was Marcus. Of course it was.
You looked at the mirror over the sink before you grabbed a paper towel and cleaned your mascara off your cheeks. You didn’t even remember that you cried? Your eyes were red though, nothing you could do about it now.
“Can you let me in?” he asked, his voice now quieter.
You kept looking at yourself in the mirror. Calming yourself down. You had to get it over with. Even though living out your life out in this public restroom had a nice ring to it, you knew you couldn’t hide here forever. And Marcus was right outside.
Deep down you knew that you couldn’t ask for a better partner to go undercover than him. And you wouldn’t even have to play being in love with him.
Oh shit did you really just admit that to yourself?
He said your name and you walked over to the door unlocking it. He slowly opened it, looking at you with those warm brown eyes.
You took a deep breath.
“I need to talk to you,” you said.
“If it’s about the mission. I can request someone else if you’re not comfortable with me going with you. You worked long on this case, you should be the one seeing it through,” he said.
Your heart warmed. Anyone else would insist on being on this mission to take the credit, but not him. You shook our head.
“That’s… That’s not it. Can we… Can we go to my office? There’s something I have to tell you,” you said quietly.
“Of course,” he nodded, giving you a small smile.
“Good,” you nodded too.
“I’ll meet you there in five minutes?” he asked.
“Okay.”
His eyes lingered on you for another moment before he turned around and walked towards the elevator, probably to his office which was on another floor.
You, in the meantime, went to your office to google how expensive living on a greece island was.
He brought cake. And the good coffee from the first floor.
Of course he did.
He sat down across from you while you took a sip from your coffee.
Apparently living in Greece wasn’t as cheap as you thought, so you decided the best plan was to come clean to Marcus about your… lack of experience of… literally anything that had to do with love.
Easy peasy.
Even if he would judge you for it, you trusted him to keep your secret and not be mean about it.
“You’re quiet,” he observed.
“I’m thinking,” you replied, reaching for the cake. Lemon sponge. Another one of your favourites.
“About what?”
“About my reaction earlier,” you took a bite.
“Looked to me like you didn’t read the report before,” he teased and you rolled your eyes.
“Guilty.”
“I get it. It’s your first undercover mission and of course it’s the one where you get to pretend to be into some kinky shit with a complete stranger. It’s not perfect.”
“That’s not it. I just… Fuck. Okay,” you took a deep breath and Marcus raised his left eyebrow, eying you warily.
“I have never been in love. Ever. I don’t know if something’s wrong with me or if I’m just… oblivious if someone along the way has been interested in me in that way but…” you shook your head, "pretending to be freshly married and in love and in some kinky shit? Yeah I should have read the fucking report before,” you laughed nervously, taking another bigger bite of your cake to shut yourself up.
You avoided Marcus' eyes, not really wanting to see his reaction.
“If you save you have never been in love before, you mean…” you looked at him and he tilted his head.
“Yeah. I’ve never… kissed someone. Or… had sex. Which doesn’t mean I might not be into some kinky shit but I’ve never….”
He parted his lips in surprise while you shoved more of the cake into your mouth. You focused on chewing the cake while Marcus processed the news.
“I have to admit you caught me off guard there. But.... It actually makes some sense? I really thought…” he huffed to himself and you grew even more nervous. He shook his head to himself, a smile playing on the corner of his lips before he looked at you.
“You really thought what?” you asked. He seemed to be in thoughts before his face fell.
“The undercover mission…” he said and you nodded.
“Yeah. That’s why…. I have to ask a favour. A big one and you can say no and I will go to my boss tomorrow and request that she finds someone else but. I really want to see this fucker behind bars. And I want to be the one to do it. So… I need you to kiss me. Before we go undercover. There’s no way a newly married couple isn’t kissing or touching each other. And the swinger party… We won’t have sex. But we have to be comfortable with each other so… I am asking you to kiss me. Now,” you ended your rant.
Marcus blinked his eyes at you, his face blank.
“You want me to… kiss you?” he asked. You nodded.
“Now?”
You nodded again.
“Because of the mission?” he asked. You hesitated. “Because if it’s just because of that my answer is no.”
“Why?” you breathed.
A small smile came to his face, his eyes softening as he leaned closer.
“Because it’s your first kiss. Ever. And maybe that’s my romantic heart but your first kiss should be with someone who means something to you. Someone you want to kiss and not someone you just… rip the bandaid off with so you can go on a mission.”
You took a deep breath, your thoughts running through your head. You knew that you would have never asked him to kiss you if you hadn’t been assigned this mission with him. Because he was your co-worker. Because you didn’t know if he’d be interested. Because deep down you wanted your first kiss to be with someone who meant as much to you as you did to them and you were scared to be rejected.
“But if… You happen to have some other reason to ask me of all people, reasons that have not to do with the mission, then I want you to know that I have been thinking about kissing you for a while now,” he said, his eyes warm.
What he was trying to say took a couple of seconds before your lips parted in surprise.
“Really?” you gasped.
He nodded, a smile on his lips.
“Do you think I know the breakfast order of every one of my co-workers? Or how they drink their coffee? Or that they are the funniest and most beautiful person I might have ever met? I thought you weren’t interested,” he said.
“I… I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think…” you laughed nervously.
Marcus said your name, his hand reaching over your desk to put it on top of yours.
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
You walked with him in comfortable silence, his hand holding yours as the sun set slowly.
After your confession he had asked you to meet him in the parking garage after you both finished for the day. You followed him with your car, as you drove through the busy streets, surprised when he parked at the Lincoln Memorial. He waited for you at the exit after you parked, taking your hand to lead you through the evening crowd at the sight.
Every time he looked at you from his side, you finally started to understand what people meant when they said that they felt like there were butterflies in their belly. You never experienced love, but if it was only half as what happened in your brain when you were looking at Marcus Pike you might finally know what all the fuss was about.
He walked a little away from the crowds, towards the cherry blossom trees that were in full bloom, until he stopped and came to stand in front of you. He had switched his blazer for a very soft looking dark blue coat and you wondered if it was as soft as it looked.
“Your first kiss isn’t something that should happen in a dark office between files and outdated stock art,” he said. Marcus took a step closer, and you sucked your bottom lip in as he let go of your hand. Slowly he rested his one hand on your waist, his other hand coming up, his fingers brushing over your cheek.
Your breathing got faster as you tipped your head up, giving him a shy smile which he mirrored.
“You brought me to the Lincoln Memorial at sunset to kiss me?” you whispered.
He shook his head.
“I brought you to the Lincoln Memorial at sunset because I want to give you the perfect first kiss,” he said and you smiled.
“Perfect huh?” you teased, feeling brave as you put one of your hands on his chest. And yeah, the coat was as soft as you had imagined.
“I mean it is your first. So it’s not like you would know if it wasn’t,” he shrugged with a teasing smile and you playfully slapped his chest before you both laughed.
But then he put his hand on your cheek, pulling you closer as he leaned in, a soft smile still on his lips.
“I like to make a fuss for the people that I lo…. Like,” he corrected himself at the last minute and your heart fluttered. You put your other arm around him, resting your hand on his neck, your fingers playing with his hair.
“In all my life I haven’t thought about kissing someone before I met you Marcus,” you said quietly and he released a shuddering breath.
“Then I’m gonna kiss you now,” he said and you nodded.
“On the lips,” he added and you chuckled before sighed as his lips pressed down on yours.
#my fic#Marcus Pike#Marcus Pike x fem. reader#Pedro Pascal#fanfiction#fan fiction#fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#Marcus pike fanfiction
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𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 VII
𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: I honestly had on debate this character, but I said “F*ck it, we ride!”
𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.
𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: I don’t condone these actions.
TW // Kidnapping, Blood, Violence, Curse?
Everything was destroyed.
Left to become just some pile of debris.
Everything I worked so hard for. Falling between my fingers.
If only I had known it’s true intentions. If only I hadn’t stopped to stare into that god forsaken alleyway, for just a millisecond.
Would that even change anything? Would that even prevent what has happened now? Would this happen even when I didn’t look?
God, this was my fault wasn't it?
My fault, that my own house was broken down to crumbs. My fault, my streaming was over. My fault, for even leading that cursed tin can of a proclaimed Knight over here.
I should have known this. I should have known something like this could happen.
To me. To Hydra.
A slob escaped my lips, fresh tears running down my cheeks. Legs giving out as I fell to my knees, on the verge of hyperventilating.
His once bright, blue armor, now laid, still and bloodied on the ground. His own blood stained the dirt below him in clumps. Thick blood, still spitting out like a geyser from the shoulder joint form where it’s been cut off from.
He had been slayed, right in front of me.
The sight made me sick to my stomach. The heavy, irony smell coating my senses. It was the only thing I could process at the moment.
There seemed to be so much of it. On the ground, on the bark of the trees, even on the remaining house walls.
It all felt like a fever dream. This can’t be real can it? Was it real in the first place? Is this really happening?
It was real. It was all the way real when the cursed Knight kneeled down to my level. His silver armor, stained with Hydras blood, trickling between the gold on him. When he put his bloody gauntlet on my cheek, cooing softly at me. I knew this was all too painfully real.
I couldn’t help but try and run at that moment. Too emotionally unstable to think properly. Unstable to face this reality just yet.
I didn’t get too far from running away from the Knight. He didn’t even have to take a second step to pick me up from the back of my shirt, and pull me close to his armor. Trapping me up against him.
No matter how hard, or long I’ve tried hitting against his armor, even pry at it. He didn’t falter. Screaming at him didn’t even faze him as he continued walking to god knows where.
I wanted to try, and stay awake. See where he was taking me, but having cried for who knows how long, and prying against the Knights armor can have its tiring side effects.
-
Waking up was harder than going back to sleep. My dreams filled with the truth I wanted to see. Not this sick, horrid reality.
I felt so undeniably lonely every time I woke up. There were no electric blue eyes greeting my eyes. There were no sneaky arms pulling me back up against a warm chest. Not even his aquatic scent stuck in my own clothes.
Now my days were filled with the pure white eyes of the Knight. His bulky arms pulling me close, trying to feed me when I wouldn’t eat. His heavy scent of a woody vanilla wrapping around me strongly. Which is horrifyingly, relaxing when it shouldn’t have been.
What’s worse is that he knew how to talk.
“You have to eat.” The deep voice of the Knight said, setting a plate of food in front of me that he probably stole from somewhere, the food included.
Despite its appetizing smell making my mouth water, and my stomach growl. I didn’t make a move to grab it.
“I honor your will to resist such temptations, but this is a plate to be feasted upon.” The Knight spoke, kneeling down in front of me.
I still didn’t make a move. I didn’t even look at him.
A sigh came out of him before I heard him move around. Tinkering with the plate.
Jumping up at the feeling of his hand on my shoulder, pulling me back to face him. His hand slid behind my head, keeping me in place as his mouth was on mine.
Surprised by the move, my mouth opened. His tongue pushing some food into my mouth. Forcing me to eat the chunk of food, stuffed chicken it tasted like.
“I won’t mind feeding you like that again.” The Knight said, leaning back with a grin.
Embarrassed, and left breathless. My hand came up to wipe off the excess saliva from my lips, glaring up at the white eyed Knight. His form not at all fazed.
“Then I should suggest to you, to eat what I present to you.” He advised, leaning his face back down in what could be a warning. His breath fanning against my neck before he pulled away.
Watching him move away. I reluctantly took the plate into my hands while he stood next to the doorway of the room.
I slowly took a bit out of the piece of the chicken with a fork. My body telling me that I should just ravage the whole thing in one go, but I took my time. Slightly questioning on where this Knight had found a stuffed chicken, or did he cook it himself?
Glancing back up to the Knight, his eyes staring back at me. He didn’t seem like he was the type to cook. More like the type to slaughter an Astartes.
“You’re still angry I see.” He observed, eyes flickering down when I swallowed my food.
I rolled my eyes, placing my finished plate down. Really? You couldn’t figure that out quick enough?
He hummed, then spoke up again. “Let me try, and introduce myself properly then.”
Introduced? I think we went well past that point, but if this my ticket into escaping… I slowly nodded back at the Knight.
“My designation is Solor, my lady.”
ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 VIII
ℙ𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣: 𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 VI
ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥: “𝕮𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗” 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖘𝖙
#warhammer 40k#space marine#space marine husbandry sentience#fanfic#yandere space marine#x reader#yandere#fanfiction#inspired#oc: hydra#oc: Solor#alpha legion#gray knight#polygamy#polyandry#polygynandry#old post#older post#astartes x reader#space marine x reader#tw: yandere#adeptus astartes
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tired of losing you
sunmary: during a heated argument, you finally find out how grayson feels.
pairing: grayson x mc
word count: 2097 (yikes)
based on the request: angry love confession
request a drabble here!
**unedited//listen its not my best work but it is what it is**
you don't know where your phone is. truth be told, you don't even care about it that much. the smartphone is big and clunky, uncomfortable to hold and you've dropped it more times than you can count. but everyone was insistent that you use it and that you take it everywhere you go. you can’t blame them; they’re terrified you’re going to disappear at any moment and you are too, but you do miss your old blackberry more than anything.
“mc!” grayson calls suddenly from the other side of the apartment and you pause your searching in the drawers of your desk to see what he wants. you meet him halfway in the passage, an exasperated look on his face. things are not what they used to be with him. he’s still your best friend and you love him more than you've ever loved anyone, but he’s changed almost too much for you to keep up with. he’s always an edge, looking over his shoulder like he’s worried something inexplicably bad is going to happen to you if he’s not prepared for it.
“this was in the pantry,” he tells you, sighing heavily, and it’s then that you realise he’s holding your phone out to you.
“you found it!” you say, offering him a bright smile as you take it from him. you turn it over in your hands, the sleek black screen reflecting your face back to you before it slips from your fingers and smacks against the floor, a curse leaving your lips as you rush to pick it back up. “thank you, gray.”
you look back up at him in time to see him drag his hand over his face, the other planted firmly on his hip. “you need to keep better track of your phone,” he says, his tone pleading and you frown slightly. “this isn’t the first time you’ve just left it somewhere and forgotten about it.”
“i’m sorry,” you mumble, feeling oddly scolded by him. “i’m trying my best.”
he sighs again, his blue eyes finding yours and the hard lines of his face soften slightly. “you need to try harder,” he says as he takes your hands in his, holding onto them tightly in an attempt to convey his desperation to you. “i know this is difficult for you but it’s difficult for me too.”
you can’t help but notice how talks about himself specifically. everytime you’ve gotten this speech, it’s always ‘we this’ and ‘us that’. but now it’s just you, him and the tension that’s been steadily building between the two of you ever since you got back. you don’t know what it is specifically, but you feel your friendship teetering on the edge of the line, either destined for something greater or irreversible damage. you know what you’re hoping for but you can’t say the same for the man in front of you, not when you feel like you no longer know who he is, like he's no longer the man you fell in love with.
he’s talking again, you're watching his lips move, his big blue eyes staring at you imploringly, but you don’t hear a word he says. too wrapped up in your own thoughts, in the tightness crowding your chest. he’s right, you know that, but his words cut deep. you’re not trying hard enough. you can’t shake the feeling that you can’t do anything right, that even though everyone is happy to have you back, you’ve become a burden to them, to grayson. something they need to be constantly worried about. the thought of yet again disappearing without a trace is a constant fear that haunts you, and yet it feels like you're the only one who can't seem to keep it together.
"mc?" he says again, his voice quieter now, almost sounding like he's on the verge of giving up entirely and your heart slams into your ribcage.
"i'm sorry," you squeak out again, your gaze flitting to a different point on his face. you can't focus with those eyes of his staring back at you, begging and pleading for you to stay, for you to not be so reckless. "i'll do better."
he nods, taking a deep breath and you imagine he's trying to convince himself to trust you. glancing down to where he still holds your hands, he hesitantly drops them to shove one of his own in the front pocket of his jeans and drag the other through his hair. "okay," he says, nodding again before looking back at you. "i have to go back to the precinct for a while, kelsey and i have some reports we need to do. please keep your phone on and with you. please, mc."
you nod, unable to speak, fearful that you might cry if you do. he stands there for a moment before he pulls you into him, his arm wrapping you in a side hug that's too awkward for what a hug between you should be.
all too soon he's stepping away from you, mumbling a goodbye and an i'll talk to you later as you watch him leave the apartment. you feel colder without him there with you, the walls starting to close in and you spin on your feet, returning to your bedroom where you set the phone on your night stand and collapse on your bed.
gralex is quick to get up from her perch on your pillows, pressing up against you as she meows for attention. a sad smile curls at your lips as you drag your fingers through her fur and she begins to purr. "at least i can't disappoint you, huh girl?" you mutter and she chirps in response before beginning to knead her paws in your side. you grimace at the sting of her claws but you don't do anything to make her stop. with everyone usually only holding onto you more out of fear of losing you than anything else, you'll take the pure and unadulterated affection anywhere you can get it, even if it hurts.
soon your cat has fallen asleep, her purring coming to an unfortunate end, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. the silence is deafening and the air is too thick. you can't stay here, doing nothing, withering away until you're nothing more than a husk of the person you used to be. more than that though, you can't keep disappointing everyone around you. least of all grayson.
you stand up suddenly, rushing to your closet to put on shoes and a coat. you need to make things right with him, you have to show him that you meant what you said, that you're done being a burden.
dressed and ready, you press a kiss to the top of gralex's head and grab your keys before leaving the apartment, determination in your step.
you don't know how long you spend out - hours, if the sun sinking lower into the horizon is anything to go off of. you didn't really have a plan for what you wanted to do which meant you spent most of your time walking around, avoiding eye contact with everyone who watched your move and getting lost more than once.
the first thing you did was buy grayson flowers. you'd walked by a street vendor selling bouquets of mixed wildflowers and you couldn't resist. you made sure to choose one you know he'd like; cool colours of blue and purple and a soft floral scent that wasn't too strong, bound together with a bronze rippon.
next you'd somehow managed to find yourself in a polish grocery store where you got a box full of his favourite pastries. you doubt they'd be as good as his mother's recipes but they'd do the trick just fine.
lastly, you bought a bottle of white wine in hopes that with a bit of liquid courage, the two of you can finally get through this strange and awkward phase your friendship seems to be stuck in. you want nothing more than for things to return to how they used to be but you'll settle for just being able to move on.
by the time you get back home, the sun has gone down and you're thankful that your time out gave you a chance to think things over and clear your head.
you're somewhat surprised when you walk in and find grayson sitting on the couch, bent over himself, his eyes on the wall ahead of him and his arms crossed over his knees.
"hey, gray," you say. your voice comes out softer than you would've liked and you clear your throat. when he doesn't reply, you shift awkwardly on your feet, glancing between him and all the items in your hands. "i was thinking we could order in for dinner and for after, i got us some pastries that i think you'll like."
he stands up, slowly turning to face you with unreadable look on his face. wordlessly, he holds up your phone and your eyes widen at the sight of it. you'd forgotten it again.
"shit… gray, i-"
"do you know how many times i called you today?" he asks, cutting you off. you frown at him and open your mouth to respond but he goes on before you get the chance. "what about your mom, you wanna guess? or callie, or kennedy, or alex? hell, even kelsey gave it a try."
"gray…" you whisper, your voice cracking slightly as you say his name but he raises his other hand to stop you from going any further, his face twisting in anger.
"you promised, mc! you promised me you wouldn't forget and yet that's the first you did." he pauses for a second, his hand going to his hair as he takes a deep breath. "do you know how worried i get whenever i hear that stupid fucking voicemail of yours? do you know how many times i've had to relive that moment of you going missing because you can't just do one simple thing?"
tears begin to well in your eyes and you find it difficult to breathe, your chest tightening with each word he throws at you. "i'm sorry," you whisper, the phrase leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. you don't know what else you can say in this moment, you're not sure such words even exist.
he shakes his head and closes his eyes, tears of his own slipping down his cheeks. "that doesn't mean anything anymore!" he shouts and you involuntarily move backward. you've never seen grayson so angry, never heard him raise his voice, so to be on the receiving end of it now is jarring. "i am so terrified of losing you again but i can't keep doing this with you. i love you too much to go on like this."
your eyes widen. despite the severity of this moment, you can't help but latch onto that word and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself hope it means what you want it to. What you need it to.
"you love me?" you ask quietly and he looks at you then, an exasperated laugh leaving him.
"of course i fucking do. i've loved you for half of my life but was i was always too much of a coward to say anything."
before you even know what you're doing, you've dropped everything in your hands and started to walk towards him. you come to stand in front of him and his eyes widen slightly as you raise your hands to him but before he can say anything, you grab him by the neck and pull him down to crash your lips against his.
it's messy. it's desperate. it's so unlike what you thought kissing grayson would be like. but his arms are around you and he's holding you tight and he's kissing you back. all like his life depends on it.
he pulls away first, breathing heavily as he presses his forehead to yours. "i love you so much," he says softly, his eyes squeezed shut. "i can't lose you again."
bringing your hands up to cup his face, you let your eyes flutter shut. in the warmth of his embrace, enveloped by his cologne, you can feel yourself begin to calm down. "you won't," you reply, your voice earnest.
his hold on you suddenly tightens. "promise me."
you tilt your head back and let your lips ghost over his once more, desperate to kiss again and again until your lungs give out.
"i promise."
#i have mixed feelings about this one gang#i feel like it starts strong but then begins to fall about somewhere in the middle#idk#let me know ig#mm: grayson#mirror mine
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William Rex Chapter 18
Editing me here: So I just wanna let you know that from this chapter onwards I'm going to be making a correction in my translation. If you know me, I use JP honorifics in my ikegen translations for example 'Shigehira-kun', 'Yoritomo-sama', 'Yoshino-san' etc..instead of using the English titles like Lord Yoritomo, Miss Yoshino etc. There are two reasons for that: 1. Because the characters are Japanese and 2. Is because of Shigehira. I can simply translated 'Shigehira-kun' as 'Shigehira' and just avoid using the honorific. It's an important thing in Shigehira's route. But in Ikevil, the characters are all British, so that's why I don't use 'sama', 'san' or 'chan'. Instead I use the English titles. But for some reason, when I was reading back the previous chapters that I have translated, I didn't like how Liam was calling Kate---'Miss Kate'. In Japanese, he calls her 'Kate-chan' which is informal and I used 'Miss Kate' which is formal. So now, I want to change it but I don't know the exact translation for 'chan'. So Liam is gonna call her 'Katie' from here on. I also wanna change 'Master Elbert' to 'Lord Elbert'. Thank you, now enjoy the story~
WARNING! This story contains blood and murder.
。⋆。˚🦋˚。⋆。
(No way----!)
In front of the cell where Mr. Brian is being held, I was distracted by the sudden noise from upstairs----
Liam: "Katie! Come here!"
Kate: "!?"
As soon as I heard Liam's voice, I was jerked to my feet.
We hid in the corner of a narrow aisle where cleaners enter and leave the building.
Policemen's voice: "Do you think he actually came? What's the report?"
Policemen's voice: "I don't know! The security guard was supposed to come inform us, but at the moment there is nothing...!"
Soon the heavy footsteps are heard passing close by and climbing the stairs.
Policemen's voice: "Perhaps he's not here yet, maybe his subordinate or something---"
Policemen's voice: "Tsk...if its actually really Rex, he is going to take the prisoners as intended...."
The name that leaked out tightens my chest.
(Its William after all)
I was on the verge of a violent upheaval, but I managed to control it and took a deep breathe, trying to stay calm.
Liam: "I think they've gone. I'm sorry for pulling you out so suddenly. I saw policemen coming back and I got impatient."
Kate: "No. Thanks for looking out for me....!"
Brian: "Who is this man? Where did he come from....?"
Kate: "He's a friend of mine and William's. Don't worry."
I can't stop my inner impatience, even as I try to quiet Mr. Brian's bewildered mind.
Kate: "William may have already entered the tower."
Liam: "Yeah...what do we do now?"
(The officers who were in jail have left to assess the situation...then)
Kate: "...Let's hope we no longer need a diversionary tactic to keep the cops on their toes."
Liam: "!I see...you're going to use all this fuss to get these people off the hook."
Kate: "Yes. ....Mr. Brian. A dark-haired man named Alphonse will be here with the key to the prison."
Kate: "Tell him the destination to where the prisoners should be taken first!"
Brian: "Destination....?"
Kate: "It's not somewhere shady. It's a special ward at the Royal Infirmary."
(It was the only place I could think of to temporarily shelter the prisoners)
(The director knows more about the people William saved than I do)
(Their relationship of trust should not be shaken by a single newspaper article)
(I'm sure they'll keep your identity confidential)
I'm sure Lord Elbert has heard from Harrison and is on his way to talk to the Director by now.
Brian: "Okay. I promise to tell someone named Alphonse. What about you guys?"
Kate: "I'm going to see William. To hold him back while I take the prisoners out."
Brian: "Hold him back....? ...I see."
I don't know what will happen when he comes across the prisoners who are in this state of mind.
Brian: "So that's why you came here......?"
Kate: ".....Yes."
William tramples on and manipulates the freedom of the policemen, even as he frees the prisoners.
For prisoners who have been instilled with a sense of disappointment and suspicion that they have been betrayed, this will be seen as 'evil' itself.
-----FLASHBACK------
Alphonse: " 'It's all William's fault. We were deceived by him. We lost our family, job, honor, and happiness.' "
Alphonse: " 'If you want to hate him, hate him. Well, here he comes. Look. The guards are getting killed one by one. He's a bloodthirsty murderous maniac.' "
Alphonse: "If you don't want to judged, prove you're not on his side. Come on. I've got the knife right here."
-----FLASHBACK ENDS-----
(That's the only thing I can avoid----)
Kate: "I've got to go. Please be safe....!"
Brian: "Ah.....Thank you. You too...!"
With Mr. Brian's voice at my back, I ran up the stairs with Liam.
Kate: "The police just said that he's probably still in the other building....!"
Liam: "I heard it too! Maybe the wing near the gate...."
Kate: "Let's go!"
。⋆。˚🦋˚。⋆。
William: "Out of my way"
Policemen: "Ah..Arghh!?"
Policemen: "My own legs are...!"
Like retainers welcoming their lord, the policemen lined up in neat rows on either side of the corridor.
William walked leisurely as they watch him in horror and bewilderment. He then stopped in front of the last one.
William: "....From the looks of your faces, I don't think we have the chief of this place here."
William: "Bring the chief inspector in front of me. If he resists, use force".
Policemen: "Nn..No...!!"
At William's command, the burly-looking officer walks off like a toy solider.
Soon after, a stern-looking man emerged, being dragged along by a manipulated police officer.
The man who is being dragged: "Let go of me! You don't know what you're doing!"
Policemen: "I'm sorry, sir! As soon as this man opened his mouth, my body is moving on its own....!"
William: "Ah, that's right! Don't blame the man, sir."
Inspector: "William Rex..!"
William: "You already know. That would save me the trouble of introducing myself."
Inspector: "You monster...what the hell are you making my men do!?"
William: "The same thing that I'll do to you. Please wait for your turn."
William: "You know all the people who have been taken prisoner because of their relationship with me, don't you?"
Inspector: "....What are you going to do then?"
William: "Unlock all their prisons and their handcuffs"
William: "Oh and 'Come back when you're done'....After that, I want to hear more about the person who gave you your orders."
Inspector: "Shit...! Why the hell is my body...!!"
Walking away with a look of humiliation on his face, the inspector begins to hurl curse words at him.
Inspector: "Even if you help them in this way, it's not like you saved them!"
Inspector: "Because of you, the world will look at you with suspicion and because of you, they will be unhappy!"
Inspector: "It's all your fault! You monster!"
William: "If you have a heart to lament their misfortune, why did you hurt them without ascertaining their guilt or innocence?"
Inspector: "....Nn."
The frightened inspector was then silenced by the horrifyingly cold voice.
William throws a joyful voice back at him as he heads towards the wing where the prisoners' cells are located.
William: "You are right. Even if we rescue them from here, they will never be free."
William: "It takes a bit of performance to prove innocence."
William: "Don't worry, I'll think about it later, Inspector."
With a giggle behind him, the Inspector bit his teeth in humiliation.
Inspector: "....You maniac...!"
..................
Female prisoner: "Ah...the policemen are back....!"
Male prisoner: "Ugh...I'm sick of this! I'll do anything. Please someone, help me...!"
The prisoners are in an uproar of fear when they see the Inspector descending into the prison.
Young prisoner: "W-Wait, something is wrong."
Inspector: "Tsk...William Rex..! I'll never forgive you for this...!"
The Inspector, with a look indignation on is face, pulled a bunch of keys out of his pocket and began to unlock the jail cell.
Brian: "...What are you...?"
The prisoners watch with amazement as the heavy locks are easily released in front of their eyes and the prison door open.
The prisoners finally swallowed the situation after their shackles were removed.
Male prisoner: "So you're finally admitting we're innocent, huh? After torturing us so much...! Say something!"
Inspector: "This is not my will! I am being manipulated by William Rex!"
Male prisoner: "Manipulated!? What are you saying---!"
Young prisoner: "Wait...is William...is William actually here?"
。⋆。˚🦋˚。⋆。
Young prisoner: "Wait...is William...is William actually here?"
The Inspector looks at the young man's face and smiles darkly, as if he has just thought of something.
Inspector: "....Yeah, that's right. Sir Rex, the man who did this to you, is here."
Inspector: "He has strange powers over my men and me, he's forcing you all to leave."
Older prisoner: "Forcing us...? But why...?"
Inspector: "You're fellow murderers, so why not?"
Young prisoner: "We! We didn't do anything...!"
Inspector: "....If that's true, then maybe he's going to manipulate you and use you as a tool for murder."
Inspector: "You all are criminals now and will be abandoned by the society. Doesn't that make you perfect for slavery?"
The Inspector removed the prisoners' fetters one after the other, while spouting incendiary speculation.
Inspector: "Apparently, his ability to compel action, but not the words you speak."
Inspector: "Yeah....maybe that's why he's on drugs? Drugs prevent him from speaking properly, which is a good thing."
Young prisoner: "...I can't forgive him....!!"
Inspector: "You have a lot of potential. You'd make a good police officer, wouldn't you?"
Inspector: "So. I have a favor to ask you..."
Young prisoner: "....?!"
The Inspector walks up to a young man in prison and whispers something to him while removing his shackles.
Young prisoner: "....!"
With a thoughtful look on his face, the young man pulled something out of the Inspector's pocket.
Brian senses something unusual and shouts out involuntarily.
Brian: "Wait! What he says may not be true...!"
Young prisoner: "....So you're saying that the newspaper articles and the police are lying!?"
Brian: "...! Please listen to me first---!"
Male prisoner: "Why don't we just check him out in person when he's here instead of telling us what to do!"
Female prisoner: "Where is Sir Rex!?"
Inspector: "He is at----"
Brian: "Wa...Wait!"
Several prisoners, led by a young man, run up the stairs unheeding Brian's silence.
Inspector: "Hahahaha....you're so brave."
With a mocking smile, he finished unlocking the last cell and disappeared into the darkness upstairs.
Brian: "....Damn!"
Alphonse: "Oh dear, what is this delightful situation?"
Alphonse, who had just passed the Inspector, came down the stairs with a light touch.
He looked round the prison with amusement, fiddling with a bunch of keys.
Alphonse: "These keys, I don't think you need it anymore"
Alphonse: "Those who remain are...those who are injured, debilitated and immobile, and...."
Alphonse: "You, who is all wise but pathetic lamb who still can't bring themselves to doubt Mr. William's even in the worst of circumstances."
Brian: "Black hair...Are you Mr. Alphonse!?"
Alphonse: "Yes, I am Mr. Alphonse. I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Brian: "Kate told me. She told me what's going on....!"
Alphonse: "Is your leg injured?"
Brian: "Ah...I had a bit of a romp before I was brought here."
Alphonse: "You seem to be in a lot of pain. Shall I give you a good dream?"
Brian: "Dream....? No, more like, can you give me a shoulder to lean on...?"
Brian: "The safety of Miss Kate and....Sir Rex is at stake....!"
Alphonse: "....I am weak myself. Physical labor is not really my thing you know."
..............
(What should I do after I see William?)
(...No don't even think about it...I must find him first....!)
The tower, which should have been noisy just a few minutes ago, is now very eerily quiet and still,
The anxiety that stirs in me pushes me to run through the corridor.
Liam: "Katie that's...!"
。⋆。˚🦋˚。⋆。
Liam: "Katie that's...!"
(Those are... the policemen?)
Across the corridor, an orderly line of policemen could be seen.
The pale policemen are silent, as if they have been ordered not to speak.
(Only one person can do this....)
I looked down the corridor, beyond the line of policemen.
Even in the darkened corridor, her silver hair was dazzling.
(....He's finally here!)
It is a person with a mysterious charm that makes you forget yourself with just one look.
Self-righteous yet loving and kind.
A terrible person who left me with only wishes for happiness, but won't even let me hate him.
Kate: "William!"
William: "....!"
When William turned around, he was taken by surprise.
His blood-red eyes catches me.
William: ".....Kate?"
(No)
(We're not in a safe zone yet....)
(But I'm so happy, that I'm going crazy...)
The joy of meeting him, and the words I want to say to him, are all converted into strength that helped me rush towards him.
Kate: "Haa...Haa...!"
William: ".............."
William simply stares at me, as if asking me a question.
With a look that tries to find out why I came here and what I wanted to do.
(I want to talk a lot)
(But that's not the important thing right now)
Kate: "I'll explain the situation later."
Kate: "William, you need to get out----!"
???: "There!!"
Just as I was about to say, 'Please leave this place' a sharp voice pierced my ears.
(Eh....!?)
When he turned around, the prisoners I had seen in prison were there.
Kate: "Why are they...?"
William: "I ordered the Inspector in charge to set them free."
(William was one step ahead of Mr. Alphonse....!)
-----Options-----
Stay back
Let's get out of here
We'll take care of this
------
Kate: "Stay back. It's not safe for you to see them now!"
William: "Yeah, I know. I don't mind."
William said this as if to appease me, then stepped forward to hide me behind his back.
William: "It's what they need to do to be free."
Kate: "....!?"
William: "I'm right here. 'Come to me."
Female prisoner: "What the...!? My body is....!"
Young prisoner: "So what the Inspector said is true....!"
In front of the silent policemen, prisoners are drawn towards William, their faces drawn in fear.
I watched the whole scene in dismay.
(There are two ways to prove the prisoners' innocence)
-----FLASHBACKS-----
Kate: "There are two ways to prove his innocence. Either William pleads guilty and testifies that he has nothing to do with them...."
Kate: "Either that or William himself will be in a situation where he cannot be charged with a crime."
-----FLASHBACK ENDS-----
(William is now...trying to do the former)
(By using their abilities to take away their freedom, he is trying to crush what little hesitation there is in them)
(So that they would see William as a sinner...as an enemy)
Because it proves their innocence and sets them free.
Kate: "William---!"
William: "Good evening, everyone. I hope you're all doing well."
。⋆。˚🦋˚。⋆。
William: "Good evening, everyone. I hope you're all doing well."
William: "It seems everyone are not here... I'll check the others later."
William makes eye contact with each of the prisoners lined up in front of him, as if to check.
Young prisoner: "...William...! You really did deceive us...!"
I watch with a sense of dismay as the shadows of fear and disappointment grow darker and darker in their eyes.
Kate: "No...William, this is....!"
William: "So who are you again? I'm sorry, I don't recall your name...."
Young prisoner: "....!!"
(He's lying. He always makes a habit of remembering his people...!)
William: "Still...that's a nasty injury."
William mutters painfully.
I could see that he had said it on purpose to get on the young man's nerves.
But he young man was incensed just as William had hoped.
Young prisoner: "W-Who's fault do you think it is!?"
Young prisoner: "It's all your fault! You monster! You did this!"
Kate: "...!"
(What he is saying is right)
He even killed his father, yet he is unrepentant and brutally condemns those he deems evil.
He has enough sin in his hands, to be labelled a 'monster'.
(But....)
-----FLASHBACK-----
William: "No one can save everyone they see."
William: "Just because you couldn't save them, doesn't mean you have to kill yourself. Kate."
----FLASHBACK ENDS-----
(William to me is...the man that I love)
(He changed the world, he is a savior)
He makes you want to send a flower, or search for him on the streets.
Somewhere in my heart, I felt a rainbow that will never fade, as special as a passing shower.
(But William is, of course, just a human being, just like us)
----FLASHBACK----
Kate: "Last night's absolution prevented the rise of the Golden Butterfly.....right?"
William: "Kinda. Evil is stubborn. It might come back to life again and again."
William: "So we will have to keep an eye on any chrysalis that is still left and prevent them from hatching."
----FLASHBACK ENDS-----
(Even if you can't save everything, you can't stop fighting, you're not a quitter)
----FLASHBACK----
William: "My life is dedicated to my evil, I will continue to be as evil as I want to be."
William: "Until the end, when something or someone comes to cut off my head."
----FLASHBACK ENDS----
(He is a troubled man who has devoted his life to his ideals)
(William is-----)
(Because he's the only one I love)
Kate: "William...please leave now---"
I wanted to cover his ears to prevent him from hearing the abuse.
Young prisoner: "Don't you dare...I'll prove it to you...!"
Something glowed in the young man's hand.
The candlelight reflects a sharp blade.
(That's a knife----)
Young prisoner: "You're not my benefactor...nor a friend....!"
Young prisoner: "I...I'm going to clear everyone's name who's trapped here because of you...!"
(William, please command him)
(Stop him)
Young prisoner: "ARGHHHH!!"
The screams sounded somewhere in the distance.
The young man with a knife appears to be running towards us as if in slow motion.
(William----)
William: ".........."
William looked at the young man and smiled lovingly.
----At that moment, my body moved.
As if my heart ordered me.
(If you call William evil and put him to the sword)
(I don't care if he's righteous, evil or if this the end he wants)
(I want to protect him. I want to be his shield)
I have come so far for this selfish desire.
Liam: "KATIE!!"
For the first time in my life, I knew what it felt like to have a knife thrusted into me.
This would also be the first and last time, I'd learn this.
It didn't seem like a bad life.
Even until the end, I made the right choice that was important to me.
........
Silence fills the Tower of London, which until a few moments ago was engulfed in a whirlpool of anger.
Only the sound of the rain playing, gently embracing the darkness of the night, accompanied the silence.
William: "..........Kate."
A drop of heat falls on the cold stillness.
His eyes are a careful blend of love and sadness.
It was poured single-mindedly into Kate, who lay in his arms.
William: "....I remember wiping the blood of your cheeks the night we met."
Fingertips, stained the colour of blood, gently caress her cheek.
Meanwhile, an increasingly pervasive red invades her white clothing.
----Like a flower that knows when to bloom and change colour.
William: "I've been thinking about it ever since."
William: "Red really suits you."
Chapter 19
#ikemen series#ikemen villain#ikemen villains#ikemen villains william#ikemen mc#otome#cybird#cybird ikemen#cybird otome
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LINE WITHOUT A HOOK
Tetchó Suehiro x reader
WARNINGS: reader is not specified as neither female or male, fluff, love ´confessions´, that's it I think - please let me know if I missed anything:)
I never thought someone like him would take up so much space in my mind. Tetchō Suehiro—a man of few words, fewer smiles, and yet, here I am, stuck on every glance he gives. Like I'm a line without a hook, drifting aimlessly, hoping he'll be the one to reel me in.
It’s frustrating, loving someone like him. Not that I’d ever say it out loud—not even to myself. Because how do you love someone who seems so distant? How do you fall for someone who stands like a wall, impenetrable, cold?
And yet, I have. Somewhere along the way, his silence became my comfort, his quiet strength something I longed for. I started to memorize the way he stands, how his eyes flicker when he's deep in thought. I wonder if he even notices.
No, he probably doesn't. He's never said much, never given me anything to hold on to, but that hasn’t stopped me from hoping.
I feel stupid for feeling this way. Like I’m chasing something I can never have. But there’s this part of me—a foolish, reckless part—that believes he feels it too. The way he lingers just a little longer when we're alone, the way his eyes soften when he thinks I’m not looking. It’s like standing on the edge, waiting for him to catch me, but he’s never reached out.
I see you. More than I let on.
I can’t help but wish for more. Just once, I want him to break the silence, to let me in. But every time we’re together, it’s the same. Me, pouring out every feeling in silence, and him, a stone.
I know he’s not emotionless. I can see it in his eyes—the way they change when he looks at me, like he’s on the verge of saying something but stops himself. Like he's holding back.
Does he feel it too?
Tonight, we sit together in the dark, the city lights stretching across the horizon like they’re trying to fill the space between us. But no matter how close we are, it always feels like there’s a gap—one that I’m too scared to cross.
I want to say something. I want to ask if he thinks of me the way I think of him. But the words get caught in my throat, like a song with no melody.
I glance at him, searching for a sign, anything that tells me I’m not alone in this. But as always, Tetchō just sits there, staring out at nothing. Calm. Unbothered.
I look away, trying to swallow the ache in my chest. He’ll never say it, I think. He’ll never give me what I want.
But then, he speaks.
“I think about you more than I should.”
The words hit me like a wave, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. Did he… really say that?
I turn to face him, but his expression is still unreadable, like what he just admitted didn’t matter. But it does. It matters more than anything.
“I didn’t know,” I whisper, barely able to form the words.
His gaze meets mine, steady, unwavering. “I don’t understand it. But you’re… always there. I don’t know how to explain what you make me feel, but I want to try."
It’s not a confession, not really. But for someone like Tetchō, it’s the closest thing to one. And somehow, that’s enough.
I don’t need him to say everything. I don’t need grand gestures or perfect words. Just this—the quiet, raw honesty in the space between us.
“I’ve been waiting for you to say something,” I admit, my voice soft, as if speaking too loudly will shatter this fragile moment.
He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t need to. Because, in his silence, I feel it—the connection I’ve been searching for, the understanding that was always there but never spoken.
I reach out, letting my hand brush against his, and for once, he doesn’t pull away.
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Twisting Fate pt.2
It all began on a windy day in a port town on Midgard. The docks were crowded with fishermen and sailors returning from or heading out on journeys of their own. There were more people about the town than normal with ships in every dock. People filled the marketplace wearing warriors garb of nearly every color. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen it so full of people. Something in the air felt different, but I wasn’t the one to figure it out. I had a job to do.
As I had done more times than I could count, I followed the pull away from the docks and the marketplace, down an alley. I found a boy on the verge of manhood, sitting alone with his head in his hands and the pull only grew stronger. Approaching him, I sat down and asked if he was alright. He looked over at me, seeing the middle aged woman I presented myself as and shook his head solemnly.
“What bothers you, young man?”
As though my soothing voice tore down the walls he built for himself, he began to confide everything that was wrong, “I was in charge of getting the sleeping furs on the ship for my jarl and I tripped and sent three straight into the water. I fetched them and all, but my jarl told me to go dry off while she finished. And I actually went. I shouldn’t have let her finish my task. I am not ready for a journey as big as this. There is a very real chance I could die before ever becoming a true member of the crew.” He let out a deep sigh, “I just want to do right by my jarl, but I don’t have anything good to offer. I should simply tell her I’m not right for the trip and go home. As much as that would kill me.” His eyes were locked on mine, searching for an answer.
That answer became clear instantly as it always does and I placed my hand on his shoulder, “She wouldn’t have you on her crew if you had nothing to offer. I’m sure your jarl is a smart person who knows what she is doing. Besides, everyone starts somewhere. You just need to continue doing your best. Perhaps you should show incentive and ask your jarl for another task. Show her you are ready for this journey.”
In that moment, I felt someone watching me and glanced toward the end of the alley. I caught a glimpse of a warrior in a forest green tunic and cloak with weapons glinting at their sides. I would have been nervous, had the boy not been in the same color. Possibly a member of his crew coming to check on him.
The boy rising brought my attention back to him and he smiles, “You’re right. I need to go find my jarl. Thank you, madam.”
Another job well done.
The boy rushed off and I was left on my own once again. After a moment of gathering my thoughts, I followed after him, out of the alley. At the end of it, I collided with something firm, a beautiful blonde Dane. Strong arms enveloped me before I could tumble to the ground.
My cheeks heated, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s no problem at all. I’m actually glad I ran into you. I wanted to thank you for what you did. I know you only spoke to Ovay for a few moments, but I can see the change in him. Whatever you said to him must have worked.”
To my surprise, my cheeks still had not cooled, “Oh, that was nothing. He merely appeared down and I only wanted to help.”
The woman had her brown eyes locked on mine in an entranced sort of way, “He’s been down since he joined the crew. He just hasn’t found his place within the ranks yet, but I know he will get there.” Her eyes never looked away from my own, “I’m sorry, but I must tell you, you have the most amazing eyes. I have never seen anything like them in all my travels.”
A look of confusion worked its way onto my face, “My eyes? Surely you’re mistaken.” She had to be mistaken because I had made sure to make my eyes dull and unrecognizable. My illusion was certainly still intact as I looked down to see the slightly wrinkled hands of a middle-aged woman with white skin and dull brown eyes.
She leaned in a bit closer, “What color would you say they are? They look near violet to me.”
It took me a moment to find my words, “Um, I-yes, they are, thank you. You’re very kind.” I took a second look at this woman, in awe that she could see my violet eyes and wondered what was different about her. How could she see through my illusion?
“They are truly one of a kind and I am only stating facts. You are the kind one. Let me buy you a drink in repayment for Ovay.”
Her forwardness was refreshing and I was too startled to say anything other than, “Yes, I would like that.”
She thrusted out her hand, “I’m Saga, one of the jarls pledged to Ama Finnvisdottir.”
I grasped her hand and shook it, “Nice to meet you, I’m Andi.”
As she led us toward the alehouse, I was filled with doubt about skirting my duties, but something about this woman drew me in. A mortal had never been able to see through my illusions before and I needed to understand why she could.
When we reached the alehouse, Saga pushed her way through the mass of people and brought us to an empty table in the corner of the room. She sat down with her back to the wall, facing the crowded room, leaving the other side open for me.
Waving down the barmaid and ordering drinks for each of us, she never stopped looking at me with such intensity, “You’re not from around here, are you?”
You have no idea. “No, actually, I’m not. I’m from down south. Are you from Stor Skibsby?”
“No, I have my own settlement a few days' travel from here. I’m here preparing for a trip across the sea.” Saga took a gulp from the drinks that arrived, “What about you? What brings a beautiful woman like yourself to a town like this?”
There’s that Odin damned blush again. Though, I’ve always known how to use my charm, “What? A beautiful woman can’t travel for the sake of travel?”
“I’m not saying that at all. I’ve just never seen such an elegant woman in a town filled with fishermen and warriors.” It seemed like she was going to say more when a group of warriors sauntered up to the table.
“Jarl! There you are. Should have known to look for you in the alehouse!” The man who spoke was slurring his words, arm around the man next to him. A woman was standing just to the side of them and all three looked to be past their first cup of ale.
“Kåre, Torsten, Randvi…should have known you’d all get drunk instead of tending to your duties.” Saga had her eyebrow raised and a teasing voice. “Andi, these are my hersirs. Somehow, my most trusted people. Hersirs, this is Andi. She helped Ovay and gave him some words of encouragement. I was repaying her for her kindness.”
The man with the curly hair, Kåre, leaned over to whisper in Saga’s ear, only he wasn’t whispering, “Is that what you were doing? Going for the older ones now, huh?”
As I looked at the confusion on Saga’s face, I knew this wouldn’t be good.
“What are you ta-,” Saga began.
I interrupted, “You’re only jealous you’re not in the seat across from me.”
Laughter erupted from the other two hersirs, Randvi slapping Kåre on the shoulder, “Damn, Kåre.” She turned to me, “I like you.”
Saga smirks, “I second that. Anyone who can put Kåre in his place is alright with me.” Having felt the warmth of Saga’s gaze, I could have stayed there forever, but I had other responsibilities.
“Thank you for the ale, but I must be going. It was lovely meeting all of you.” I took a swig of the drink I had been too distracted to consume much of and rose to leave.
Saga held out her hand to stop me, “Let me walk you to your inn.”
I definitely could not let her escort me to an inn that didn’t exist. I shook my head, “That won’t be necessary. I may be beautiful, but I know how to hold my own. Surely you would understand.”
Saga looked at me in that intense way of hers, “Fair point, but could I at least see you again soon?”
The invitation was enticing and I did desperately want to spend more time with her, but I also needed to process everything and figure out what about her was so alluring. I decided to play it coy, “I suppose you’ll just have to find out.” Without another word, I turned and left the alehouse, Saga with a look of desire warping her features.
The setting sun greeted me when I walked outside and I cursed to myself. Walking as quickly as I could without drawing attention to myself, I made my way to the outskirts of town. Once hidden in a copse of trees, I summoned the door to Yggdrasil. Appearing like any other door, large and wooden, a carving of Yggdrasil itself etched into the wood. Written in ancient runes: To Yggdrasil.
I opened the door and walked through, stepping onto a stone floor, leaving the early spring forest behind. The spiral stairs led me down, onto a landing with two doors. One crusted in ice, the other radiating an intense heat. Niflheim and Muspelheim. Continuing down, I passed the platform for Jotunheim and Svartalfheim. Finally, the stairs opened into our hall in the base of Yggdrasil.
I took all of one step into the hall before Urd’s shrill voice echoed inside, “Where have you been?”
I rolled my eyes and shut the door, “Only doing my job. Where do you think I’ve been?”
“It is your day to water Yggdrasil. Skuld is behind on cutting threads because she had to pick up your slack.”
I leaned on the doorway into Urd’s weaving room, spotting my aged sister. Her greying brown hair fell in straggly curls down to her waist. Her once bright violet eyes were now more of a dull lavender. “Alas…gods forbid the poor beings get to live a few hours longer.”
Her weathered and wrinkled face pinched, not stopping her weaving, “That is exactly the attitude that is going to get you into trouble. We have jobs to do. Cutting threads is part of that job. Now, go relieve Skuld so she can do her duty.” She dramatically pointed to the door for emphasis.
I could think of a million insults to throw back at her, but I simply walked to the door leading outside of Yggdrasil. The sun was now painting the sky pink and purple and orange, but the air was warmer than in Stor Skibsby.
I found Skuld hauling a bucket of water from the well to the roots of the tree, her beautiful brown skin almost glowing with youth.
“Sorry I’m late. I’ll take that from you. You can go snip those threads as fate demands.”
She thrusted the bucket at me, “I don’t like it any more than you do, but it’s the job.”
“Maybe I am spending too much time away if you’re starting to sound like Urd.”
“That’s not as much of an insult as you think it is.” She rolled her strikingly purple eyes and sauntered away.
I continued to the roots of the tree and dumped the water.
Ironic that the tree that sustains all life can’t sustain itself.
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your palms were sweaty as you adjusted your slacks, making sure the pleats were where they should be with not a wrinkle in sight. you wanted to look professional and put together, at least on the outside, because you knew you were actually about .2 seconds away from falling apart.
your palms were sweaty as you adjusted your slacks, making sure the pleats were where they should be with not a wrinkle in sight. you wanted to look professional and put together, at least on the outside, because you knew you were actually about .2 seconds away from falling apart.
a quick glance to the boys at your sides notified you that they weren’t faring much better. atsumu kept fidgeting with his cufflinks, sakusa was so stiff you could knock him over with your pinky, kenma looked like he was about to pass out, bokuto was debating on squeezing under the table in front of you, kuroo was tapping a pattern on his pants (akeelah and the bee style), and akaashi kept reciting ominous poems under his breath.
the only people in the room who looked even remotely fine were osamu, oikawa, sugawara, daichi, and, surprisingly, yachi. osamu was munching on some peanuts that he pulled from... somewhere, while oikawa and sugawara were holding their own conversation by the window. daichi seemed to be minding his own business but you could never really get a proper read on him anyway.
well, you supposed yachi was okay because she knew what to expect. i mean, you were meeting her boss.
after you and kenma had posted your “exposing the hype(r) house” youtube video, an email had come to the both of you, inviting you to visit the “big boss” along with the rest of the crew.
you weren’t necessarily afraid of losing your job; the hype(r) house was already being dissolved and you were (finally!!!) getting to move in with makki and mattsun until you found your own place. you were genuinely excited to put the drama and literal hell behind you and begin to live your life again but...
that didn’t mean meeting the Man™ wasn’t terrifying. it was like being called into the principal’s office, complete with the existential dread and occasional bouts of gassiness.
the door opening made you flinch as you quickly moved out of the way to let the newcomers enter. while they walked past you, you couldn’t contain the shock that overtook your face, your jaw practically on the floor.
the man was massive.
built like a brick wall, the man who you assumed to be the “big boss,” had a chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, and massive fucking pecs, his white button up barely closing around them.
beside him stood a tall, lanky man who was dressed suspiciously un-office-like with a red buzz cut and wild eyes that seemed to cut into you as he took his place at the table.
the final man seemed a bit awkward in comparison to the other two, but he was trying to seem unaffected, his purple bowlcut, despite being rather juvenile, fitting perfectly with his slim but toned build and bright complexion.
yachi hurried to greet them, giving all three a blinding smile before motioning for everyone else to take a seat. you ended up between the redhead and atsumu, the former being way too entertained by just your general being. his eyes rarely, if ever, left your face sending shivers down your spine. the remaining members all hesitantly took their seats and “big boss” began.
“it is an honor to meet you all. i am ushijima wakatoshi but you can call me ushijima or wakatoshi or ushiwaka or toshijima or just ushi or just jima or just waka or just toshi.” for a moment you thought he was joking but his face never moved, not even with the awkward silence that followed. redhead seemed rather amused by the whole display and bowl cut looked like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting.
it took an uncomfortably long moment for ushijima to proceed but he did as though nothing had happened. “these are my associates, satori—” redhead gave you a mischievous grin “—and tsutomu.”
“goshiki,” bowl cut interrupted, his voice wavering but his eyes gleaming with righteous indignation as though he was challenging wakatoshi to say something in defiance. instead, ushijima just gave him a nod and he visibly deflated back into his seat.
“goshiki is the social media manager for imla and satori is... satori,” big boss continued, not a hint of emotion on his face. the rest of the table perked up at his comment but atsumu was the only one who apparently had the balls to say anything.
“so yer the one who wrote that shitty among us tweet?” goshiki flushed horribly and sunk further into his plush leather chair, his body language showing he must’ve already gotten an earful about it. “thought it was a good idea,” he muttered while averting his eyes, completely ignoring satori’s cackle from across the wood.
ushijima put up a (massive???) hand to calm the both of them and it instantly worked. satori quieted down though he never lost the mirth in his expression and goshiki straightened up, a new wave of determination crossing his features.
you sat up as well, feeling the shift of energy in the room but you were startled to realize the boss had decided to focus his energy on you, his deep baritone voice calling your full name. “i am extremely sorry. we have failed you as a management team and as men. i have failed you.”
he sounded remarkably remorseful, his brown irises conveying heavy emotion and guilt. you had no idea what to say but he wasn’t done.
“although i do not have full control of the decisions that have been made here, i should have fought harder for what i believed was right and for that, i will forever be sorry.” you shifted uncomfortably under his weighty gaze, not that he noticed because his attention was swiftly taken by kenma at the opposite end of the room.
“who is in charge then? aren’t you like the ceo or whatever?” he asked. ushijima took a moment before nodding very slowly, his attention clearly on something in his head.
thankfully, satori rapidly took over the thread of conversation before the room could fall in tense silence yet again. “there’s a board of old, stuffy guys who basically kicked miracle boy wakatoshi to the curb and make all their decisions without him.”
...miracle boy? what did he have to do to earn that kind of nickname? you shook your head and tuned back in, just as the ceo spoke up once again.
“because i have not succeeded in doing my job properly, i have something to give to you,” ushijima deadpanned, sliding a thick envelope towards you. you carefully grabbed it and opened it up to reveal a thick, thick, wad of cash.
a gasp caught in your throat, words not coming to you as you thumbed through the money. there had to be at least $60k in there, your eyes filling with tears while you took in his generosity. “thank you,” you whispered, not trusting your voice to speak any louder.
wakatoshi nodded at you before addressing the rest of the table about something but you weren’t even listening.
you were so overwhelmed. for the longest time, you’d hated whoever management was for ignoring your pleas for help and trying to placate you with nice dresses and fancy dinners so meeting ushijima was quite the welcomed surprise.
despite everything that occurred, you could tell he felt horrible for letting things slide even though it was technically out of his hands and you couldn’t even articulate how much that meant to you.
the fact that he had gone out of his way to pay you extra, assumingly without the permission of the board, was heartwarming, confusing, shocking, and staggering all at once.
i mean, you could probably describe the past few months as exactly that. so much had happened, so much had changed, and while you could do without some of the life adjustments (the nightmares, spare trauma, and fear of public bathrooms to start), you felt blessed with new friends and the experiences that helped shape you to the person you were now.
the boys didn’t hate you anymore (well, not all of them at least and none were actively antagonizing you), you were seeing dr yamada again, you were getting to move in with your two best friends, you were just given enough money to expand your channel drastically, and you were finally feeling good. better than good.
meiko was behind you and though you missed the person she once was, you were so glad she was out of your life in a way where she couldn’t harm you or the boys any longer.
a grin spread across your face, your cheeks nearly burning from the intensity of it. things were definitely looking up.
a soft call of your name jolted you from your thoughts, your eyes landing on all the boys already standing as they got ready to leave the room. you could sense their worry and you shot them a genuine, reassuring smile before standing yourself.
you waved goodbye to the three men at the table, thanking ushijima profusely for his kindness but he shook you off, insisting that he had just been doing what he should’ve done a long time ago.
what a nice guy.
as you followed the boys out of the building, you took a moment to observe them together with fondness written all over your expression. they were laughing and joking around, the happiest and most carefree you had ever seen any of them. bokuto was begging yachi to get them ice cream, the rest of them piling on until she gave in with a playful roll of her eyes, giggling at the cheer that went up from the group.
atsumu seemed to notice you lagging behind, falling back to join you. “ya okay angel?” he asked, eyes focused on your feet as he slowed down to match your pace.
you didn’t answer for a while, instead focusing on the sun warming your cheeks, the cool breeze messing up your hair, and the sounds of pure joy swirling above you.
“i’m absolutely perfect.” you replied and you actually meant it. “race you to the van?” you sent him an impish grin before taking off, his yells of indignation making you laugh freely as the rest of the boys joined in, right on your heels.
this is it, you thought. no matter what, i’ll have this moment and i’ll be okay.
you’d been through hell and back and you’d survived. you’d been cursed at, choked out, hospitalized, and been beaten at mario kart more times than you could count and you had still made it through. you were resilient and strong and you’d never given up, despite how badly you’d wanted to, multiple times over.
things weren’t perfect, they rarely are, but you knew that if you could make it through all that, you could get through practically anything, especially with the boys by your side.
yeah. i’ll be just fine.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
bonus!!
“told you it sounded stupid as hell.”
“gah, stop talking about it!!”
“you sounded sooooo old ‘shiki, what are you, 92?”
“AAAAAAAAAA!!!”
“satori...”
“what’s up miracle boy?”
“...what is ‘sus’?”
℗ poker face
i’ll be just fine
series masterlist
(●’◡’●)ノ
an - AND THATS A WRAP FOLKS 🥳 wowowow did the ending give me trouble but that’s ok SISJSK the endings will be coming shortly but they might not be daily just cs they may take more time, who knows lmfao i’ll let y’all know :3 AAAA ANYWAYS ILY I HOPE U GUYS LIKED KITH KITH don’t forget to feed me <3
taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you
@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis
the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq smau#haikyuu x reader smau#haikyuu smau#haikyuu#hq x reader smau#haikyuu angst#hq angst#haikyuu fluff#hq fluff#atsumu x reader#osamu x reader#kenma x reader#kuroo x reader#bokuto x reader#akaashi x reader#daichi x reader#sugawara x reader#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#sakusa x reader#tw toxicity#tw toxic behavior#tw toxic people#tw toxic relationship#haikyuu social media au#hq social media au#℗ poker face
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Prompt! Mace is stuck in a time loop of evening he fought Palpatine. He’s a little surprised at first at how willing the CG commanders are to help him commit murder, but he appreciates it
Mace is scorched, bleeding heavily, and missing a hand, still out of breath from his last fall before the section of looped time reset, when he staggers in the Coruscant Guard’s main office, then locks the door behind him.
Halfway out of his chair, Fox freezes, eyes widening. “General Windu!” he says sharply, and reaches for his comm. “Thire, go get Medical—”
“Only a Guard medic,” Mace says, and Fox goes still, Thire frozen halfway to his feet on the other side of the room. Mace meets Fox’s narrowing eyes, feeling the wash of suspicion rising, and can't even manage to hide the exhaustion in his voice when he says, “I don’t trust anyone else.”
He’s failed to kill Palpatine four times now. Four betrayals, four falls out the wide window, four times surviving just to watch the Jedi Order fall right alongside the Republic. Exhaustion is the very lightest word for what Mace feels right now.
Fox glances from Mace to the door to the other commanders, then deliberately reaches over, switches off the comm, and engages the privacy lock on the office. “We have an hour before the shift change,” he says.
Stone rises, pushing past Thire, to approach with quick steps. “I've got bacta,” he offers.
The best possible outcome. Mace tries not to stagger as he heads across the office, but he must look bad enough that Thire meets him halfway, grabbing Mace's arm and supporting him right to the empty chair across his desk. It’s a familiar seat, and Mace collapses into it with a sound that might be a groan, tipping his head back. thinks, a little grimly, of how he’s going to get Fox to agree to what he needs help with, but—Fox is the best shot in the Guard, the most fearless man Mace has ever met. If he can't do it, no one can. And all of his commanders are intensely loyal and well-trained and brave. They’re necessary, too.
All Mace needs is to not sound like he’s gone mad for the next hour.
“No caf this time?” he asks, then sets his teeth against a gasp as Fox pulls his robe away from the long, jagged slash that’s sheeting blood down his side. The third fall, Mace thinks. He wasn’t able to stop all of the glass as it fell after him.
There's a pause, careful, and then Fox snorts quietly. “You didn’t even call ahead this time,” he says, and from the tone of his voice Mace might almost believe it’s one of their weekly meetings, nominally to discuss security but more often to drink caf and complain about the idiocy of senators. “Not a Jedi. Don’t expect me to read your mind.” With a quick, ruthless jerk, Fox pulls a shard of glass free, then catches Mace's shoulder before he can do more than cry out and slaps a bacta patch over the spot, sealing the edges.
When the world stops lurching like one of Anakin's crashing ships, Mace opens his eyes, and finds himself pressed face-first to hard plastoid, as red as blood.
“My apologies, Commander,” he manages, though picking up his head feels like rather too much effort right now. “I would have called if I could have.”
Above him, there’s a quiet breath, and Stone sets a hand on his shoulder. “Sir,” he says quietly. “What happened to you?”
Fox’s hand curls around the back of his skull, holding him carefully in place, and—after three years of war, trooper armor feels like safety. Even seeing what the 501st was forced to do, all Mace can feel right now is a deep, desperate sense of shelter, like finally finding a light in a storm.
“We’ll murder them for you,” Thire says on Mace's other side, conversational and easy, like it’s the predetermined outcome, without question and entirely within their ability. “Just give us the name, General.”
Mace opens his eyes, staring at red and white plastoid, and takes a breath. “The Sith Lord,” he says. “I found him.”
Fox’s indrawn breath is a vicious hiss. “Thire,” he says without hesitation. “Those slugthrowers we seized the other day, in the lockup, and the ammunition—”
“On it,” Thire says grimly, and then he’s gone, across the office and into another room. Fox himself doesn’t move, and Stone’s hand curls more tightly around Mace's shoulder, holding him steady.
“General Windu,” Fox says, quiet. “Just give us the name and we’ll take care of it.”
They will, Mace thinks, and it’s almost astonishing. Within ten seconds, Fox had a plan, and that’s—well. Precisely why this is where Mace came when he’d run through all other options and was on the verge of collapse.
“I need to come,” he says, though when he goes to lever himself to his feet, Stone gently pushes him back down. “You may hesitate, and I need to guard you if you do. He’s powerful—”
“Hesitate,” Fox repeats, frowning. He glances up as Thire returns, carrying two locked boxes. “Why the kriff would we hesitate? He’s a Sith Lord. He did this to you. He’s the one behind this whole karking war.”
Right. The difficult part. Mace takes a breath, carefully pushing himself upright, and says, “His identity. You might think I'm lying.”
There's a pause, and then Thire snorts, thumping the boxes down on top of Fox’s desk. “With all due respect, sir,” he says. “I can't even pictureyou lying to a clone.”
Stone makes a sound of quiet amusement. “What he said.”
Mace glances up, meets Fox’s eyes. “I'm going to ask you to help me murder someone very important and highly-placed,” he say quietly. “With no proof but my word.”
“And your injuries,” Fox says ruthlessly, though his hand is careful on Mace's throat. Mace should likely be thinking of troopers in the Temple, executing children, but all he can picture is Ponds on his left, Razor on his right, Stak asleep against his knees in front of the fire. It makes him close his eyes again for just a second, leaning into Fox’s touch.
“It’s Chancellor Palpatine,” he says clearly, as steadily as he’s able to. “Chancellor Palpatine is the Sith Lord. I need your help to kill him.”
There's one beat of stunned, frozen silence. Then, careful, Thire clears his throat. “You want us to kill the Supreme Chancellor?” he asks.
“Yes,” Mace says, and when he sits back, all three commanders are staring at him. Something in his chest sinks, grim and resigned. “I can't—”
“Thire, get those damn boxes open,” Fox orders. “Stone, we need some kind of distraction. Grab some detonators.”
“Sir yes sir,” Stone says, and scrambles to obey as Thire lunges for the lock boxes. “That rotary blaster—”
“No blasters, just slugs,” Fox says firmly. “General Windu, if he sees you—”
“He won't remember my attempt to kill him,” Mace says automatically, though he can't quite get his brain to click over and accept that he can see in front of him. “I—Commanders—”
“No backing out!” Thire says over his shoulder. “It came from a Jedi, it’s an order, just let us do it this one time—”
“No take-backs,” Stone agrees, dumping a bandolier full of grenades over his head and settling it quickly. He also grabs for a very large vibrosword that’s leaning against the wall. “Even if you’re wrong, sir, we’d better just check, right?”
Fox snorts, and as soon as Thire gets the box open, he reaches for one of the slugthrowers. “Call it a birthday present,” he agrees, and glances at Mace, considering. “Sir, if you stay here—”
“I'm not staying,” Mace says firmly, and pushes to his feet, just managing to catch himself as he sways. “Use me as a distraction. Put me in cuffs and tell Palpatine that you found me trying to sabotage the power grid.”
That, of all things, makes Fox hesitate, but after a moment he nods. “After that, we’re taking you somewhere secure and dumping you into the softest bed I can find,” he promises. “Sir.”
Mace won't object. He might even drag the three of them down with him, just for that little bit of extra safety. If they manage to kill Sidious, they’ll all deserve every bit of rest and safety they can get.
[On AO3]
#drunk drabble fills#my writing#macethirefoxstone#mace windu#commander thire#commander fox#commander stone#star wars
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I'll Come Back for You (Bucky Barnes imagine)
REQUEST: ANON - something where he is in winter soldier mode and protecting the scientist (y/n) where she is the only one who can sort of calm him down after a mission
ANON - winter soldier!bucky being protective over his scientist who’s forced to be take care of his health and she’s being kept there against his will too
ANON - Bucky Barnes request about how both reader and Bucky are each other support systems? It could be like a headcanon, how would the reader comfort him while how he comforts her so forth and so on
WORDS: 3506
A/N: So I don't know if I was inspired or if I just wrote too much, but I'm not sure this story's good. Anyway, feedback is really appreciated and I hope you'll like it :) (also don't forget to tell me if you want to be on my taglist ^^)
“What happened this time ?”
Her voice was only a whisper in the quiet room. The broken man silently sat on the examination table while she stuck a needle in his functioning arm. He didn’t speak, didn’t even flinch. This masquerade had started the moment she had set foot inside Hydra secret base. They had brought her against her will to take care of their most valuable soldier. It was always the same dance, rehearsed a million times since she had met him. After each mission, each murder, he’d come to her. She’d fix his physical wounds, take care of his arm and let him go.
More than often, she found herself feeling sorry for him. She knew what Hydra was doing to him, she’d heard the screams echoing in the distance. It would keep ringing in her ears for hours. Sometimes, the simple thought of picturing what he was going through was enough to bring her to tears. No one deserved to suffer this way.
The Winter Soldier was a cruel man, an assassin. She had seen him in action, had even been attacked the first time they were introduced. But despite being the necessary tool to take care of their valuable killer, she liked him. This wasn’t a place anyone could handle, not even him. And while she was aware of the danger Hydra represented, he was a different story. The man he once was had been trapped in a small corner of his mind, disconnected. His hands were his own, but his actions were dictated by an army that had invaded his head long ago. He was a machine turned on and off at will by the power of ten simple words.
“I was stabbed” Was his only answer. He didn’t give any detail, simply raised his shirt so she could inspect the injury.
“Do you feel any pain ?”
He blankly stared at an invisible point on the wall, avoiding looking at her. He was aware anyone could be listening.
“Soldier ?” She called him, stopping her movement and waiting for his response.
“I don’t feel anything” His voice was emotionless and a chill ran down her spine when he spoke. He was detached, impassive, a statue unaware he was capable of sentiment.
She cleared her throat, trying to stay focused on her task. She cleaned the wound, took his vitals, wrote down the conclusion of her examination and prepared what she needed to sew him up.
When she was about to administer the anesthetic, he suddenly grabbed her wrist. She caught her breath, frightened, but made no movement. For the first time that day, he turned his head to look at her. Whatever she saw in his eyes was enough to ease the tension in her shoulders and she relaxed.
“It’s okay” She whispered, a kind smile on her face. “This is propofol”
She knew he would recognize the name. She had spent countless hours explaining everything she was doing to him in detail so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable or scared. He was a super soldier that required extreme measures of treatment.
“No drugs,” He told her.
“You might regret that decision once I start to put the stitches in”
“I need to stay conscious,” He explicated, almost begging her. “Please”
She didn’t argue, only glanced at a camera behind her recording their interaction.
“Alright” She conceded. “I’ll switch to saline”
He nodded, grateful she wasn’t pushing. She turned her back carefully so her table was no longer in the camera’s field of view and he watched her emptying the needle and filling it with a harmless mixture of water and sodium chloride. Nothing that would put him to sleep.
“Have you ever been to Greece ?” She asked him out of the blue. He stared at her curiously. “I’ve always dreamed of visiting. It has the longest coastline in Europe, with so many islands between the blue Aegean Sea to the east, the Mediterranean Sea to the south, and the Ionian Sea to the west. Can you imagine how beautiful it must be ?”
She kept talking for a while about the country, the books she had read and the films she had seen about it. His eyes stayed on her the whole time, his head tilted to the side, wondering why she was telling him all this. Not that he minded, he loved listening to her. She had the power to calm him down. He was constantly on high alert, ready to fight whomever he was told to kill, prepared to endure whatever torture they had prepared, but this room and the woman inside were his only small moments of peace. Her voice was the music he desperately needed to sooth his soul.
“Why are you telling me this ?” He wondered out loud.
She smirked. “To take your mind somewhere else than here. Seems like it worked”
He glanced at his stomach and realized the stitches were already there. Too engrossed in her story, he hadn’t noticed or felt anything.
“How…”
“Funny how magical words can turn out to be, isn’t it ?”
She could swear she saw the flicker of an emotion on his face looking back between his wound and the woman, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone.
“Thank you, doc”
She hesitated a moment before gently taking his hand on her own.
“Be careful” She muttered. “There’s only so much I can fix”
“I will” He promised. “Are they … are they treating you right ?”
She shrugged. “If threatening to kill me is what you consider right, then I guess I’m a real princess in a castle”
He ran a jerky hand through his hair and seemed to be looking for the right words to say but never spoke.
“Can I ask …” She began, curiosity getting the best out of her. “What is your real name ?”
When his gaze fell on her, all she saw was pure panic. Her question, as simple as it may have been, had surprised him. He didn’t remember, didn’t even question anyone, because it hadn’t mattered. He didn’t need to be more than a ghost to be able to kill.
“I’m sorry” She apologized. “I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to…”
“I don’t know” He admitted.
She gulped and looked away. His eyes held too much confusion and despair. Coming face to face with the enormity that was this man’s fate was sometimes undeniably heartbreaking.
“Can I call you Winter, then ?” She suggested.
He seemed to ponder for a while before offering her a small smile. “Yes, yes I’d like that”
It hurt to see a glimpse of happiness on his face for something as simple as a name and the woman didn’t realize that what she had just given him was the shred of an identity. A tiny piece he would hold onto. He was living inside a nightmare he had no idea he was trapped into, and if she dared to help, she would pay it with her life. So all she had the power to do was give him a name. Make him feel alive again.
The next time she saw him was only a couple of days after, carried by two agents, head hanging low and barely conscious. His clothes were stained in blood and his metal arm seemed dislocated.
“Patch him up” One of the men coldly ordered. They dropped the injured soldier on the ground like he was nothing more than an object, not even human.
She rushed to his side, checking his pupils first with a flashlight to rule out any intracranial damage to his brain. She did the same on his chest with a stethoscope, searching for any potential life threatening injury. When she moved to his shoulder to inspect the metal bones, he regained consciousness. Maybe it was the sight of yet another scientist above him or the touch of her fingers on his skin, but the man was quick to react and got on his feet in no time. His human hand wrapped around her neck tightly and he pushed her body with force against a wall, choking her. She tried to speak, but the action had been so sudden and violent that she was unable to move a muscle. He was in a trance, eyes filled with hatred that she knew was not directed toward her. Whatever he was picturing in his mind had awakened the assassin. She was the threat and he was in a game of survival.
She whispered his name several times but it was only after a minute, when she was on the verge of passing out, that he seemed to realize what he was doing. He stared at her with wide open eyes and released her from his grip. Her body fell on the floor before she started coughing, struggling to catch her breath.
“I’m…” He tried to speak, looking down at his hands in horror.
“Water” She managed to whisper.
He brought the woman a bottle and tried to help her on her feet. When he reached for her, she involuntarily flinched. A pure reflex. She didn’t miss the sadness on his face as he recoiled from her.
“I didn’t mean…”
“I know. It’s alright”
“I could’ve killed you” He said it more to himself than to her.
“But you didn’t” She laid a hand on her chest, taking a deep breath to try and calm her heart rate. “What happened ?”
“You touched me,” He explained.
“I touch you all the time” When he smirked, she realized the double meaning behind what she had just said. “Hm … why would it be any different today ?” She immediately changed the subject.
“Usually, when I’m unconscious I can … sense them around me. Working on me. And I can’t move but I still feel the pain”
Once again she was at a loss of words against the heaviness that was the burden of his life.
“Are you sure you’re alright ?” He repeated almost in a childish voice.
“I’ll get over it, don’t worry” She tried to reassure him. It didn’t seem to work. He took a temptative step, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. He moved his hand toward her neck, deliberately going as slow as he could. His eyes stayed on hers, watching out for any sign of fear. “What are you doing ?” She said in a breath, a different kind of shiver rolling down her spine.
“I need to make sure I didn’t hurt you” The sincerity and concern she heard in his voice were unsettling. She stared back in disbelief, but didn’t move. This was the closest they had ever been and it almost felt unreal for both of them. Too good to be true, especially in a place of nightmare like this.
He tilted her head to the back, still looking at her, and softly brushed his thumb over her skin. A bruise was already starting to appear. She saw the change in his eyes, the regret and sadness when he lowered his gaze. He kept inspecting her from all angles possible, making her chuckle in the process.
“Are you done, doctor ?” She joked.
He tried not to smile but miserably failed. “Almost. Haven’t found a diagnosis yet”
This time she laughed.
“C’mon, I’m not the real patient here. I need to take a look at you” She glanced at his metal arm, still dislocated. He was avoiding using it and she had noticed.
He sighed but didn’t remove his hand from her neck. Instead, his thumb slowly reached her cheek and he gently stroked her skin.
“I wish I could get you out of here” He whispered. “You don’t deserve any of this”
“Neither do you”
He clenched his jaw and plastered a tight smile, refusing to acknowledge what she had just said. He lowered his arm and sat on the examination table without saying anything.
“I’m gonna … hm … I’m gonna need to cut your shirt open” She gulped, trying to keep her cheeks from getting any warmer.
The man smirked and grabbed a pair of scissors nearby that he handed to her. She took it but didn’t dare to look at him, too uncomfortable by the situation. As she cut his shirt higher and higher, her hands started to shake. He could see her shifting her weight from side to side and desperately avoiding any eye contact. She was embarrassed and he was enjoying every second of it.
When finally she had taken it carefully off his body, she huffed in frustration. There was no denying that he had beyond toned muscle structure, verged into defined and well built curves.
“Is it… is it alright if I touch you ?” She allowed herself to take a glance at him, and rolled her eyes when she saw the smirk on his face.
“More than alright, doc” He teased her.
The moment her hands came in contact with his skin, he involuntarily flexed his muscles. She took a sharp breath, trying not to lose focus when she cleaned his wounds. She looked up at him to make sure he wasn’t in any pain, only to realize he was already staring. What should have been a quick glance turned into something more, a moment that lasted a little too long. When he leaned in toward her, she suddenly seemed to notice the lack of space between them. She cleared her throat and took a step back.
“Quit flirting, Winter” She reprimanded him with a playful grin.
He laughed. It was the first time she heard that sound and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her mouth. He looked so carefree and alive, so human. She was finally meeting the man behind the assassin, and he troubled her even more than the silent killer.
“I kinda like to see you flustered, doc”
She ran a hand through her hair, trying to hide her obvious nervousness.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” She pursed her lips to keep from smiling.
“Sure you don’t” He sniggered.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna need to put that shoulder into place”
Instead of talking, he grabbed her hips and considerably shortened the distance she had put between them. Her eyes widened from both the sudden gesture and the feeling of his fingers on her body.
“Go right ahead, doc”
She leaned in toward him to have a better access to the injury, ignoring the unexpected shudder. She was practically over him, a hand on his shoulder, the other on his broad back. If he felt any pain when she pushed the bones back into place, he didn’t show.
“All good ?” He muttered, heavily breathing. She was about to ask if he was okay but the words stayed stuck when she realized how close their faces were. He wasn’t hurt, no, he was perturbed by her presence. He could smell her perfume and see the hair raising on her neck. Whatever he was feeling, she felt it too.
“Do I make you nervous, soldier ?” She said, a smile building on her full lips.
“You have no idea, doctor”
She turned to face him. They locked eyes and, for a moment, none of them moved. The atmosphere instantly changed when he bit his lips. He bent closer and closer, and this time she didn’t push back. When finally he kissed her, she froze in place. He was about to draw back when she grabbed his neck, deepening the kiss. A sensation she couldn’t comprehend took over her whole body. He didn’t rush, took his sweet time lingering his lips over hers. She could swore her knees would have given out if he wasn’t holding her in place. Her chest was fluttering and she lost all sense of time. He pulled back from the lack of oxygen, but not before caressing her mouth one last time.
“Too much?” He inquired quietly.
She shook her head, laughing. “No. Just enough”
“I’ve been dreaming of doing that for a while” He admitted.
“Quite the change of attitude. I could’ve sworn you wanted me dead only ten minutes ago” She joked.
He pouted, not particularly happy she was reminding him of his previous outburst.
“You’re all set up, Winter” She announced after one last look over his chest. “No major damage”
“Have you checked my heart ?” He joked with a smirk. “I think it’s beating a little fast”
She coughed to try and hide her laugh.
“I’m afraid that’s not fixable” She started to write her report, ignoring his lingering gaze on her. Her brain was still fuzzy from the kiss they shared. “Unless I stay away, which would probably ease your … discomfort”
“Who said anything about discomfort ? That’s a kind of pain I’d rather enjoy”
She raised an eyebrow, not missing the way her own heart palpitated.
“Don’t play with fire, soldier”
He smirked. “Between us, I’m trying to delay the moment I’ll have to go through that door again”
This time she lost all joy and raised her head from what she was writing on her report to look at him.
“You’re strong enough to leave this place, you know”
“Leave where ?” He asked.
“Somewhere you’ll find who you really are”
“Does that somewhere include you ? ‘Cause you should know I won’t go without you”
She walked up to him and took his hands.
“Save yourself while you still can, Winter” She sadly replied.
“What about you ?”
“I’m just … collateral damage” She exhaled.
He gently pressed his forehead to hers.
“I promise I’ll come back for you after that last mission”
“I’ll hold you onto that”
He planted a soft kiss on her lips, making her forget once again where they were and what their reality was.
“I’ll take you to Greece” He whispered. “Just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be great ?”
“It’s a date” She grinned, making him laugh.
“You’ve got yourself a deal. We’ll get out of here” He swore. “And I’ll take you dancing under the stars of Mykonos”
He didn’t know then that he would never have the occasion to keep that promise. They would have more moments, stolen from the chaos of this place, but nothing more. Weeks later, he would hear rumors about treason and compromising positions. He would understand too late they meant her. She was his weak point, and the Winter Soldier couldn’t have any weaknesses. She was disposable, he was an assassin with superpowers. All the recordings they had proved he no longer could be operational so long as she was still breathing.
“Buck, you alright ?” A voice suddenly spoke in the agonizing silence.
He turned around to his friend, brushing the tears he didn’t realize had started to fall. Standing in the empty room, he couldn’t move away from the dried patch of blood on the floor.
“Yeah, I just need a minute” He shook his head, trying to make the painful memories disappear.
The man behind him began to inspect the place, searching through scattered papers around a desk.
“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N” He read.
Bucky closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. The simple sound of her name was enough to widen the open wound inside his chest. He sat on the examination table one last time, without her. Forgetting he wasn’t alone, he let himself wander into his most precious memories. He remembered the taste of her lips, the smell of her perfume and the touch of her skin. Every detail engraved in his head forever.
“Did you know her ?” The person asked.
“Yeah”
The man stopped what he was doing and observed the former assassin for a solid minute. He looked heartbroken.
“Bad memories ?” He inquired.
“Not in this room” Bucky sadly smiled.
“What happened ?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Steve”
The Captain hesitated for a moment but didn’t push. He was aware his friend was still healing and whatever the place was, it was part of his pain.
“Is she dead ?” He only questioned.
He gulped and tilted his head backward to keep the tears at bay. “They took her away from me” His voice cracked when he spoke. He was not able to stop the violent sob that escaped his mouth. He wanted to say so much more but the lump in his throat was far too heavy.
“I was too late,” He whispered. “I promised I’d come back for her but I was … too …”
His shoulders started to shake as tears ran down his bloodshot eyes. Steve rapidly closed the distance between them and hugged his friend, letting him express his sadness. They stayed there until he was calm enough to take a deep breath.
“You ready ?” The Captain inquired.
The broken soldier silently nodded.
“Where to now ?” Steve asked him. “You’re free to go anywhere you'd like”
“Greece. I have a date in Greece”
Taglist below the cut
@partypoisonsblog - @tylard-blog1
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes fanfiction#the winter solider x reader#the winter soldier imagine#the winter soldier imagines#the winter soldier fanfiction#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier imagine#winter soldier imagines#winter soldier fanfiction#tfatws#fatws
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Could you 12 from the fluff list? And please make Y/N a lil cheeky 😂❤️
Thankyou 🌞
Me and my husband, we're sticking together
Hii, I think you meant the smut list, hehe
Summary: Harry and Y/n have a quickie before going out.
Warning: unprotected sex
Word count: 1.5k
"If you don't change out of those shorts and into some pants I'll have them by lunch," Harry said playfully, making eye contact through the mirror.
The couple had agreed to go to a breakfast party to commemorate Y/n's co-worker's job promotion, one that Harry happens to be very jealous of. She wasn't dumb, she knew that nick - the guy - would stare her up and down whenever she walked in a room, she just didn't care enough about him, very differently than Harry.
"Yeah, of course, I'll do that," she said rolling her eyes, " I don't know why you worry about him so much, I've already told you he looks at everyone like that."
Harry hugged her from behind, kissing her neck and slightly sucking on it, "I'm not everybody's husband, am I?"
"You just care too much with things that shouldn't matter," the girl said, feeling the bulge of his thigh on her behind, "Harry we don't have time."
Y/n knew what he wanted, his body language saying everything. Harry had a weird obsession with having sex before they had to go out somewhere, he was just very persuasive.
"Please, just a quickie, ya look good right now," his hand went below her shirt, feeling her tits since she wasn't wearing a bra, "always so pretty sweetheart."
She looked at him in the mirror, his tongue and teeth playing with the skin of her neck while his fingers were playing with her nipples, his other hand pressing her lower back into his hips.
"You need to be very fast, though," she breathed.
The man didn't need anything else, he quickly took her shirt off and took her body in his arms, sitting on the bed while she sat on his lap. His mouth promptly found her nipple, sucking on it gently while his other hand pinched the other one, making the girl moan and lean into him.
"Such a good pair of tits, makes me want to love on you all day," he whispered on her chest, going back to the breasts and leaving hickeys on the skin.
The girl started to hump against his hips, the rough fabric of her shorts creating amazing friction on her clit. Harry noticed her actions, taking a hold of her hips, making her rub herself even more. "Feeling good, baby? You like to hump on my cock like that?"
Y/n nodded, hugging her arms on his neck, picking up her pace, "want you to cum on my cock, though. What about we take those clothes out so I can make you feel good?"
"Alright, H," she said breathlessly, swiftly getting off his lap and stripping out of her shorts, wearing only a cotton white underwear, which already had a wet spot on it.
"Come on," he said, so she could stand close to him, her cunt right on his face, given the height of the bed. Harry held her love handles, bringing his mouth over her clothed pussy, his tongue lapping the fabric and feeling her arousal.
"So ready for me sweetheart. I know you said to be quick, but I just want to spend something eating you, alright?" He barely waited for her answer, his lips were already attaching to her clit.
"Right there Harry," she said, pulling his hair.
He took the inside of her thighs and spread her legs so he could have more space, "you taste amazing, baby." He murmured, taking the fabric of her underwear to the side and finally coming in contact with her bare pussy.
His tongue was playing with her wetness, trying to feel all of her with the tip of his tongue. The girl was a moaning mess, his tongue making her feel as if she was in heaven.
Harry abruptly took his mouth off of her, which made the girl complain, "Hey, no whining," he said harshly to her, grabbing her jaw, "you behave or else I’ll be the only one cumming, understand? Now, take your panties and get on the bed on your knees."
Y/n did what he told her, getting on the soft mattress on her knees, head turned to the headboard. She felt the bed dip behind her, moments later Harry was kissing her neck eagerly, "I hope that stupid boy that works with you can see all the hickey on your skin, 'cus you're my wife, my pretty hot wife."
"Just yours Harry, no one else's," she shivered, holding his arms to gain balance.
"Got you all naked for me on my bed, how lucky did I get to have someone like you? So fucking beautiful," his raspy voice met her ears, "why don't you get on all four for me? Need to fuck your cunt, gonna fill you up."
Harry watched the girl get in position, he promptly found a pillow to put under her hip, so she could be more comfortable. Her hole was already dripping just waiting for him.
He opened his zipper and pulled himself out of his boxers just enough so he could still be dressed, his cock was already hard, dripping pre-cum. He took two of his fingers, sinking them on her opening, making the girl moan, "liking that, baby? It's just my fingers yet." The man continued to fingering her, her walls contracting against his fingers while he was teasing himself, stroking his shaft with his hand.
"You have no idea how beautiful you are, all spread open for your husband," he jerked, "While I'm here, fully clothed.
He picked up his pace with his hand, he wanted to be on the verge of cumming, so they could be quick and get at the stupid breakfast on time. His fingers were also working fast on her cunt, his thumb hitting her clit.
"H, I'm gonna cum, please," Y/n begged.
With that, Harry took his fingers off her, also freeing his cock from his hold. "You're only gonna cum on my cock, love."
The man got his body closer to her ass, being right in front of her openings, he took the head of his dick and applied pressure on her opening, just teasing and spreading her wetness. He made up and down movements around her slit, as the girl underneath him would whine, wanting to be fucked.
When he felt like he couldn't do it anymore, he slammed himself on her cunt, staying deep inside her, giving the girl some time to adjust, "how is it? Is my cock filling you up?" He asked, looking for compliments.
"Yeah, feel you so deep, please fuck me," she cried, with her head buried on the pillow.
"Shh, don't worry, gonna give it to you real good," his hips started working on her roughly, feeling the warmth of her cunt.
He was pounding inside his wife, holding to her hips with one hand while the other was playing with her clit, trying to make her orgasm as fast as she could. Harry lent into her body, whispering to her ear, "need you to cum, we need to leave in less than 10 minutes," he let his body fall into hers, only one hand holding him from crushing her body.
His cock was barely leaving her pussy with the thrusts duo to how deep he was. She was pulsing around him, she was close. "Cum for your husband, Y/n, go on."
With the pleasure of his finger on her clit the girl released, rolling her eyes as the pleasure took control of her body, which was shaking from the orgasm and from her husband thrust, who was trying to achieve his pleasure.
"Fuck baby, I’m almost there," he growled, kissing her cheek, concentrating on the movements of his hips.
The pounding was desperate, with barely any rhythm, he held her body against his back, jerking his hips frantically into her, until he felt a pressure on his balls, cum leaving the tip on his cock and hitting her cervix right after.
He moaned in her ear, kissing her back and trying to be as silent as possible as he made lazy movements, trying to get all of his cum to go inside her.
The girl was moaning sweetly, being overstimulated by him. After a few moments Harry finally decided to pull out, holding onto her hips and watching his cum dripping out of her, he took his fingers and put it back into her pussy, "gonna take your underwear, love" he said after tucking himself into his boxers and pants.
He placed the underwear on the leg holes and helped her get dressed, a new spot forming from having his cum, "want you to keep me inside, alright? When we get home I’m gonna love on you all night," he kissed her, giving the girl her shirt and her shorts, "see, told I would have them by lunch," he teasingly said.
Hii guys, please like, reblog, and give feedback here (I hope the link works) I'm very tired now, so byee, hope you guys enjoy it, see you tomorrow <3
#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles blurbs#harry styles writings#harry styles fanfic#fanfic#smut fanfiction
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Delirium
@smallpwbbles happy birthday, take some delirious Wukong-
Word Count: 2k
Read on Ao3
-
MK paused in a mixture of shock, horror, and awe as he took in the sight before him.
Pigsy had his head in his hands, looking for all the world like he was totally done with the situation. Tang was standing beside him, trying to hide his increasingly obvious laughter. Mei had no such qualms, and was laughing out loud, practically on the verge of literally rolling around on the floor. Red Son stood next to her, holding up Mei's phone, which seemed to be recording, the fire demon trying desperately to look neutral to the situation, but a small smirk on the edge of his lips betrayed him, revealing his amusement. Sandy stood slightly off to the side, holding a blanket, ready to step in at any time.
And Macaque stood ramrod straight, appearing to be somewhere between 'embarrassed' and 'would somebody please strike me down already'- as Wukong leaned against him, saying a series of sloppily put together compliments.
MK took a deep breath, speed-running all five stages of grief in under an instant. (Possibly a new record for him.)
"I left. For five minutes." He said, taking note of how some places on the deck seemed to be dented, and was that smoke coming from over there? "How, exactly, did things end up like this?"
He received no answer, the others having jumped and turned to stare at him when he had spoken, having not noticed his return.
...Wait, where did Wukong-
"MK." Wukong said, and MK did his best not to jump as the delirious Monkey King appeared beside him out of nowhere and put a hand on MK's shoulder. "My, my dear su- ......succulent.....?"
"Successor." MK corrected, trying to ignore how the others were barely restraining their laughter. (Macaque, at least, looked somewhat sympathetic, but he also looked far more grateful for the fact that Wukong's attention had shifted away from him.)
"That's, yes. That's the word, yes." Wukong said, before grabbing hold of MK's cheeks, squishing them a little as he made sure MK was looking at him. "I am so proud of you."
"...Thanks?" MK said, questionably, pulling himself out of Wukong's grip. Wukong briefly glanced at his hands, seemingly confused as to where his successor had gone. "Monkey King- I'm right here. You should really be resting, until whatever this is gets out of your system-"
"Red Son!" Wukong exclaimed, the aforementioned fire demon making an audible noise of terror, slipping to hide behind Mei as Wukong spun around to face him-
Only to trip over his own two feet, slamming into the deck, denting it ever so slightly.
...For about the twenty-third time that day.
Sandy took this as his time to move forwards, gently laying the blanket down on top of Wukong, before announcing that he was going to try and make some more healing tea, (Wukong had dumped the first pot of it over the side of the ship, claiming that it was 'too bitter', 'wouldn't work anyways', and complaining that it didn't 'taste like peaches'), and the river demon left, going back down inside of the airship, leaving the others without his calming presence.
"...Okay guys, while Monkey King is....asleep..." MK wasn't even actually sure if Wukong was asleep, but he'd stopped moving and had become utterly silent since slamming into the deck, so- "I suggest we make it so that he doesn't hurt himself or us with anything on the ship."
"What, are you suggesting we should baby-proof the entire ship?" Pigsy asked.
"...More like 'Monkey King-proof', but yes, actually, that is exactly what I am suggesting." MK said, "We're going to need to cover all of our bases-"
"Uh, kid?" Macaque interrupted, grabbing MK's attention by lightly tapping on his shoulder. "If you're going to Monkey King-proof the ship, you uh, might want to start with the railing."
He pointed to the edge of the ship, and MK followed his gaze to see-
"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." MK said, just catching the barest, tiniest glimpse of Wukong, wearing the blanket around his shoulders like a cape, leaping over the side of the ship. "That's the fifth time he's done that today."
-
It wasn't all that hard to find him again. All they had to do was follow the destruction a delirious, overpowered monkey leaves behind.
Or at least, that was MK, Mei, and Macaque's strategy, up until they stumbled upon a perfectly normal, entirely untouched clearing.
"...What do we do now?" Mei asked, and Macaque made to give an answer-
Only to have to jump back, barely avoiding being impaled as Wukong suddenly appeared out of the surrounding woods, carrying a rather large tree. He had twigs, leaves, and dirt all throughout his fur. The blanket was seemingly missing, but neither MK, Mei, nor Macaque really wanted to find out where it had gone. The group of three took a cautious step back as Wukong locked eyes with them.
"Wanna see how up I can lift this tree?" He said, already lifting said tree above his head. (Everyone ignored how he'd seemingly forgotten the word 'high'.) MK and Mei shared a look as Mei slowly pulled out her phone, opening up the camera.
"I mean, we really shouldn't, but..." MK said, and Wukong beamed, shifting to hold the tree with one hand, taking the chance to show off. MK and Mei 'ooh'ed and 'awe'd appropriately, but Macaque rolled his eyes and looked away.
Which cause him to miss seeing the exact moment when Wukong's strength faltered, the tree falling upon the Monkey King's back, pinning him to the ground.
Macaque certainly didn't miss Wukong's screech of terror though.
MK and Mei had froze in shock, but Macaque reacted instantly, running over to the pinned monkey. The panicked mutters of "Not again, not again, please not again-" left little doubt as to what was currently going through Wukong's mind.
Macaque practically sent the tree flying in his rush to get it off of the other, and, not knowing was else to do when that didn't immediately quell Wukong's panic, flipped him over, desperately hoping that seeing the wide open sky, with no mountain in sight, would calm the Monkey King down.
And, well, it must've done something, as Wukong quieted, blankly staring up at the sky, without blinking.
"...Are you....okay?" Macaque asked, fearing that he had made things worse as he kneeled down beside him.
"...Have I... ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?" Wukong muttered, and Macaque paused.
"Ah- no. No." Macaque said, standing up. "No, we are not doing this again- MK, come get your stupid mentor, we're going back to the ship."
-
"MK- hey- hey kid-"
"What is it now, Monkey King?" MK sighed, tired. It had been unanimous that Wukong could no longer go even seconds without being supervised, and now had to be watched at all times. MK, unfortunately, had gotten the short end of the stick and had been chosen for the first watch, (They had drawn straws, and he had not missed the sighs of relief from the others, nor had he missed how Macaque had magically changed the length of the straws. He swore he'd get that shadow monkey back somehow), which of course meant that he was the first to have to put up with the delirious Wukong's complete and utter bullshit.
"Um- Would, do you think Macaque's fur tastes bitter like his rationality?" Wukong asked, from where he was laying on his back, on the couch, yet another of Sandy's blankets set on top of him. (They'd tried to cocoon him, but after enough protesting they'd given up on it for now).
"Wh-" MK started, confused, turning the sentence over in his head to make sense of it before responding. "...First of all, no, I think it would just taste like hair, second of all, did you mean to say personality?"
"....Yes...." Wukong said, slowly, before a wicked smirk came over his face, and MK felt fear settle into his bones. "Do you wanna see me make a hair buddy-"
"No!" MK yelled, and he may have lost all his powers, including his enhanced speed, but you wouldn't have known it from the way he practically flew to stop Wukong from blowing on his hair. "You are not going to be making any clones any time soon, okay? Monkey King I need you to look at me and confirm that you will not make any hair clones while you're delirious."
"...I will not make hair buddies while I'm serious." Wukong said, and MK sighed.
"Good enough, I guess." He said, sitting back down in his chair, slumping, momentarily closing his eyes in exasperation.
When he opened them again, Wukong was gone.
"Fuck-" MK said, jumping up and spinning around-
Only to see Wukong on the other side of the room, curled up on top of the other couch. He'd somehow gotten more blankets than before too, MK was certain there had only been two in the room before, but now there appeared to be at least seven.
MK didn't want to question where and how Wukong had gotten them.
What he would like to know though, was-
"...Why did you move to the other couch?" MK dared to ask, prompting Wukong to stick his head out of the pile of blankets he had buried himself in.
"Cause this one's more soft! The other one's too....too..." He seemed to blank on the word 'stiff', and instead said; "Boney. Boney couch. Bouch."
MK took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from breaking down then and there. It was, of course, at this moment, that he noticed Red Son try to sneak pass the open the door and down the hallway.
MK didn't let him.
"Red Son!" He said, rushing over (never taking his eyes off of Wukong), and looping his arm around the demon's. Red Son squeaked, but MK ignored it as he dragged him over to stand in front of Wukong. "Perfect timing, I think it was about time for me to have a little break, y'know? Would you mind watching him for me for a moment?"
Red Son was about to say no- but the look on his face, the look of someone who was oh so close to Losing It made him reconsider.
"...Sure..." Red Son said, slowly, "So long as it's only for a bit-"
"Cool! Thanks!" MK said, immediately letting go, turning and practically sprinting out of the room. "Good luck!"
Red Son had the ever looming sense that he had just doomed himself.
(He should have never accepted their offer to join them on the ship. But dammit, MK had offered some of that spicy candy he knew Red Son liked, and the fire demon just couldn't have refused.)
For a few blissful minutes, it was silent, Red Son staring at Wukong in apprehension, while Wukong hardly seemed to have noticed that anything had changed at all, still snugly wrapped in his nest of blankets.
And then Wukong lifted his head, a questioning expression on his face.
"...Does blue exist?" He asked, and a look that was somewhere between exasperation and pure terror made it's way onto Red Son's face.
"Noodle Boy, hurry up with your break and get back in here, your mentor's going existential!" He yelled, looking in the direction MK had gone, desperately hoping that the other would come back and save him from this fate.
"You can handle it!" MK's voice called faintly.
"...If blue doesn't exist......Then red doesn't exist......so does that mean you don't exist?" Wukong asked, under his breath, looking at Red Son with fear.
"I most certainly can not handle this!" Red Son yelled, "Could somebody please get over here?"
Nobody answered his call. Red Son honestly hadn't expected them to.
After all, he would've made the exact same choice.
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out how to respond to the monkey that currently seemed to be having an existential crisis.
Only to jump as he heard an ear shattering scream of frustration ring through the ship.
This had the fortune of snapping Wukong out of his crisis, instead having him simply look confused. Red Son ignored the faint shouts from Macaque's room (something about 'fuck you've got a serious pair of lungs' and 'warn a guy next time') as he tried to calm himself down from the sudden scare.
Geez. MK had seriously needed that break.
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Are you still taking prompts?
Cause if so, I'd love to see a time travel fic where post-canon WWX and LWJ get yeeted back into their younger bodies, and land just before the GC transfer. And Post-Canon WWX - who's had some years of being a part of a loving, supportive family, in a non-toxic, non-abusive environment; and therefore no longer has any misconceptions about how much the Jiangs were not his family - takes one look at JC lying there on the table in the cave after WQ knocked him out (and is now in the middle of prepping for surgery); and just goes, "LOL, yeah; nope.😆 Been there, done that; 10/10, would not recommend.😝 Hey, WQ - change of plans!😎"
(Except, you know, not written like crack. 😉)
Not necessary to include, but a fun idea:
JC gets dragged along to the past as well because he has WWX's GC; so whatever sent them back mistook him for part of WWX and brought him along.
So when he wakes up from the anaesthesia, he freaks out about not having a GC anymore. And WWX has this whole story ready to tell young JC about how, "Oops, sorry; you can't have a new GC after all" - but this is Post-Canon JC; so he knows about the transfer, and knows that this means that WWX decided not to do it again.
Which means he ends up screaming at WWX about, "How dare you not give me your GC!"
So WWX feels exactly zero sympathy.
(Before that happened he was maybe feeling a little bit bad for young JC; because that JC hadn't done anything too bad yet - but he already knew how it would turn out if he went through with it. And he was not giving up his chance to cultivate to immortality with his hubby; just so that JC could Feel Like A Real Man, and go on to murder his way through life again.)
What would be really, really great about this, is if WWX had brought JC to Qinghe or Gusu; or somewhere the other cultivation sects involved in the SSC had gathered, before JC woke up. Planning to leave him there where he would be safe. So when JC wakes up and starts screaming, everybody hears him.
And they're all like, "...WUT."🤤
"You expected him to do what?!?"😲😨😱
So instead of all the sympathy and compassion, etc, that he would have gotten over what happened at LP (that he probably did get the first time), or for losing his GC; basically the entire allied cultivation world as a whole is collectively side-eyeing him.
IDK; I just think it would be really funny.
But mainly, I just want to see WWX a few years post-canon; having the chance to do it all again, and choosing not to go through with the GC transfer. LWJ going with him is because the thought of post-canon LWJ losing his WWX makes me sad; and I want them to stay together. 😋
Post-Canon JC going back and getting stuck with the coreless body he deserved is just for my own catharsis.
(The rest of that idea is simply for the lulz.) 😉
(I decided not to include JC traveling back in time. Hope this works and satisfies you!)
“No, I don’t.” Wei Wuxian sees Wen Qing blink and stare at him while Wen Ning stills in the process of making Jiang Cheng comfortable.
“What?” Wen Qing asks but rethinks it immediately, “No, no need to answer that.” She starts packing away her instruments immediately like she’s glad that Wei Wuxian has changed his mind. He looks at her and feels aching fondness rise in his chest. She must be frustrated that he made her go through all of that trouble and yet she still chooses to move before he can change his mind again.
“What… are we going to tell Jiang-gongzi?” Wen Ning asks tentatively but Wei Wuxian notes the faint look of relief in the boy’s eyes.
“We’ll tell him the treatment wasn't possible,” He says, glancing at his… former shidi. It isn’t an easy decision to make, because he knows Jiang Cheng would suffer for it. A part of him feels like he’s being unnecessarily cruel by denying Jiang Cheng his core.
But he has already paid his debt and it cost countless people their lives. Jiang Cheng’s actions didn’t just lead to the death of the Wens. Lan Zhan had told him about the numerous ‘demonic cultivators’ Jiang Cheng had pursued relentlessly. Even his love wasn’t certain how many people died or were tormented to insanity because of Jiang Cheng’s persistence.
While Wei Wuxian doesn’t intend to let the situation get so out of hand, it is apparent that Jiang Cheng can’t be trusted with power.
He is worried about how Jiang Cheng would react. Wei Wuxian had promised him a core, after all. But whatever happens, a powerless Jiang Cheng is safer for everyone.
“We’ll tell him that rebuilding the core is impossible because Wen Zhuliu destroyed his meridians as well.”
“He has,” Wen Qing points out, “I was about to repair them.”
Wei Wuxian frowns, “And can you repair them still? Without transferring the core?” That would certainly help Jiang Cheng heal faster and accept some spiritual energy transfusions. Wen Qing looks at Jiang Cheng with a frown and nods.
“Wei-gongzi… what changed your mind?” Wen Ning asks as Wen Qing goes to work immediately. Wei Wuxian knows that if he has to help the Wens, he needs to tell them the truth. While Wen Ning would trust him and accept his explanation without too many questions, Wen Qing wouldn’t be so easy.
Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, getting his thoughts in order. When he opens them again, both of the Wens are looking at him with frowns.
He grins wryly and spreads his hands, "I have a tale for you, my dear friends."
-
Jin Guangyao needed to have his last 'hurrah'. He just couldn't leave them be, even as he died. Whatever he did, whatever tool he used, it sent a shockwave of Resentful Energy that would've killed them all.
As always, Wei Wuxian stepped forward to protect people. As always, Lan Wangji stepped forward to protect him.
Wei Wuxian gritted his teeth and changed his plan at the last moment. At first, he wanted to absorb the energy and channel it somewhere else. But with so many people just lingering instead of running, he needed a different solution.
His mind flashed, he saw Jiang Cheng, and decided.
A forbidden array formed.
-
"I needed something that would use up all of the Resentful Energy and protect everyone, including Lan Zhan."
"So, at the last moment and on the verge of dying, you chose something as improbable as time travel." Wen Qing deadpans. Wen Ning is looking at him with wide eyes. Strangely enough, both look like they believe him. Well, he did mention a few things, personal incidents, that he had no way of knowing if the Wens hadn't told him.
Still.
"I'm not the one for regrets," He says softly as he looks at Jiang Cheng, "But I thought that array was the safest solution. It doesn't harm the current timeline so everyone is safe. Lan Zhan, I know, wouldn't mind following my lead in this." He did regret taking Zewu-jun's brother away from him after such a traumatic event but there really was no other option. Not with Jin Ling so close and so many innocent people in the vicinity.
Wei Wuxian is quite certain that the blast would've destroyed everything around them, including the innocent people around the Guanyin Temple complex.
The siblings exchange glances before Wen Qing returns to Jiang Cheng's side, preparing to work on his meridians, "You're going to change things." She observes, "Save people?"
"Save you and Wen Ning. Save Jiang Yanli. Save innocents, yes."
Wen Qing freezes.
---
Lan Wangji doesn't know what Wei Ying did but he trusts his beloved. When he finds himself in the past, just before the Sunshot Campaign begins and shortly after the fall of the Lotus Pier, he doesn't hesitate.
He knows that his brother is safe and his uncle is managing things at Cloud Recesses. But he also knows that somewhere out there, his beloved is preparing himself for a risky, painful procedure.
Wangji can't let that happen. He thinks back on everything Wen Ning shared with him about the incident, particularly the location of where it occurred. He's probably too late to stop the transfer but perhaps not late enough to stop the Wens from finding Wei Ying.
It takes him days to reach Yiling without the aid of Bichen but he manages and immediately heads towards the approximate location Wen Ning had mentioned.
"Wei Ying," He breathes softly when he spots his beloved shopping for some supplies. He hadn't anticipated finding him so soon but is grateful nonetheless.
Wei Ying is dressed like a peasant and blends in well with the people around him but Wangji can recognize him anywhere.
Dressed discreetly and without his forehead ribbon, Wangji too is inconspicuous. He moves swiftly towards Wei Ying and catches his elbow, eyeing the people in red and white uniform at the far end of the street warily.
"Come." He whispers.
Wei Ying doesn't say a word, just paying the vendor and following Wangji into a more discreet location.
Wangji looks at his beloved's face, drinking in his bright silver eyes and sharp features with acute relief.
"Wei Ying, you… you look well." Strangely so, for someone who has just given up his Golden Core.
Hope stirs in his chest and Wangji reaches for Wei Ying's wrist.
His love's lips quirk in amusement, but Wangji ignores him, focusing on sending his spiritual energy through Wei Ying's meridians.
A strong core pulses in response.
"Wei Ying," Something bright and triumphant burns in his chest and he resists the urge to pull his beloved into a crushing embrace.
He would've supported Wei Ying's decision to give up his core and cultivate with resentful energy again. He knew it wasn't evil or harmful now.
But Wei Ying chose himself. His beloved had finally chosen to save himself.
"Aiya, Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying laughs, "If you keep looking at me like that, I'll do something quite shameless and embarra-"
Wangji kisses him.
He cups that precious face, pulls him close, and slides his lips over soft flesh in a tender expression of love he can't contain.
Wei Ying chose himself.
---
Jiang Cheng returns from his trip to the mountain with a thunderous expression on his face.
He disregards Lan Zhan and grabs Wei Wuxian's arm in a tough grip, dragging him away from the crowded tea house. Lan Zhan follows without a word, his expression frosty and eyes on Jiang Cheng.
"Your Grandmaster," He spits, "Is just as useless and worthless as you. All she could do is repair my meridians! My body was too damaged for anything else, she said!"
Wei Wuxian knows Wen Qing wrote the note they left by Jiang Cheng's side but he hadn't known what she had written.
It must've been reasonably convincing for Jiang Cheng to be convinced.
"That's-" He searches his mind to find words that would be appropriately sympathetic. Saying 'that's too bad' would be just rubbing salt on an open wound.
He may dislike Jiang Cheng, but some of the childhood affection still lingers. He doesn't wish to hurt his former shidi.
"I didn't know," He says finally, his heart throbbing in sympathy at Jiang Cheng's devastated expression. He briefly reconsiders his decision but Lan Zhan shifts discreetly by his side and Wei Wuxian remembers why he made that decision in the first place.
Jiang Cheng had been unworthy of the gift he had been given.
His shidi snarls and turns to Lan Zhan, "What are you doing here, Lan er-gonzi," He snarls, "Coming to triumph in our misery?"
Lan Zhan looks at him flatly, "I came to assist Wei Ying."
"Came to assist Wei Ying," Jiang Cheng mocks, his expression tight and furious, "Well, you're welcome to take him away! There's nothing left for him to destroy. Everything is gone. He invited the wrath of the Wens on our heads to protect you and that led to the destruction of my sect. He couldn't even repay that debt. His Grandmaster failed."
Jiang Cheng turns hate-filled eyes towards him, "You are a curse. My father should have left you to rot on the streets!"
"Jiang Wanyin!" Lan Zhan warns but Wei Wuxian places a hand on the Second Jade's arm to halt him.
"I'm taking you to Meishan to be with shijie." Wei Wuxian says calmly, "And then I'll go join the war efforts."
Jiang Cheng sneers before turning his head away, silent.
Wei Wuxian does as he says. He leaves Jiang Cheng in Jiang Yanli's care and heads to Qinghe with Lan Zhan. The war goes differently than before. He manages to kill Wen Zhuliu and Wen Chao early, which gives them a big morale boost. But that's the only thing that goes their way for a long time.
"I'm going to use it," He tells Lan Zhan once, when the scales tip dangerously in the Wen's favor.
Lan Zhan studies him before nodding gracefully, "I will help."
There's no way to avoid using his cultivation method, not if he wants to keep people safe. He's more careful and restrained this time and he doesn't create the Yīn Hǔ Fú. But Mo Dao is Mo Dao. It attracts disapproval from people regardless.
Wei Wuxian doesn't care and Lan Zhan stays by his side without paying any heed to the grumblings of his clan. He goes to sleep every night with Lan Zhan's guqin notes in his ear and meditates every morning with the Cleansing purging the Resentful Energy from his body.
With a powerful and active Golden Core, Wei Wuxian can't use Mo Dao liberally without risking Qi Deviation. But he uses enough to help them win the war.
Wei Wuxian successfully retakes Lotus Pier and Yunmeng from the Wens. Jiang Cheng's hatred doesn't diminish and even Jiang Yanli grows distant after a while. Jiang Cheng's suffering and downfall hardens something in his soft shijie.
Wei Wuxian accepts that consequence quietly.
He hands Lotus Pier back to Jiang Cheng and stays on the front lines, leaving most of the freshly recruited disciples behind to protect his former martial siblings. When the war ends, argues to keep the Wen cultivators in better conditions. He makes sure everyone knows how much the Jiangs owe the Wen siblings, and saves the children and elderly.
With Jiang Cheng out of the Cultivation World and Wei Wuxian's reputation as a war hero, saving the Wen remnants is easier than it had been before.
---
Everyone is baffled when Jiang Wanyin names a new head disciple and Wei Wuxian never returns to Yunmeng. People gossip, sect leaders question, and new Jiang disciple flounder.
Neither Jiang Wanyin nor Wei Wuxian confirms it but it is clear to everyone that the Jiang Sect has, foolishly, kicked out its most powerful disciple. YunmengJiang remains wealthy but the Sect's influence diminishes significantly once Wei Wuxian leaves.
Other Sects, big and small, scramble to find Wei Wuxian, ready to offer him a place and get a powerful cultivator in their ranks. Letters pour in promising wealth and prestige.
Wei Wuxian ignores them all and settles in Cloud Recesses. He's content to teach a group of eye-wide Lan ducklings now to deal with resentful energy and limit the risk of Qi Deviation. He takes them on Nighthunts, teaches them real-life lessons, encourages creativity, and becomes a well-loved senior.
New YunmengJiang disciples aren't near as strong as their predecessors without someone to teach them properly.
People gossip and speculate as the years pass. They hint that he is wrong to leave his former sect behind but he doesn't care.
Wei Wuxian has Lan Zhan and Lan Sizhui. Wen Qing and Wen Ning live happily in a small farming village not far from Gusu. They intervene before Jin Guangyao kills Nie Mingjue. They save Lan Xichen from heartache. Jin Ling is born and has both of his parents.
That's all he needs to be happy.
YunmengJiang is no longer his responsibility.
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"Remember when you tried to kill Frank?"
Mickey's head snaps up to look at Ian. His husband's sitting on the other side of the couch, legs propped up on the coffee table before it. He's holding his phone in his hand, thumbs paused in the air as if he was typing a text of some sort, and Mickey wonders what prompted him to even remember something from all those years ago.
Mickey doesn't press pause on the movie they were supposed to be watching. Instead, he just shrugs non-committaly, slightly hesitant of Ian's reaction to his reply. Frank's death was recent, and who knows if Ian's going down memory-lane, trying to find some parts of his life with Frank where he can reminisce.
"He caught us at the store," Ian continues, despite the fact that moments of silence had passed, and Mickey thought the subject would be dropped. "You were so scared he'd tell somebody, so you tried to kill him."
Mickey remembers it—perhaps not as vividly as Ian, but he does. The fear that had struck him after Frank announced his presence in the Kash and Grab while he and Ian were fucking. Mickey was terrified back then, and the desperate need to stop Terry from finding out overpowered any other sensible emotion he might've felt back then towards Ian.
Ian shuffles around on the couch, and Mickey observes the way he plays with his cuticles, picking at them. He soon moves on to fiddle with his ring, lower lip stuck between his teeth.
Mickey finally stops the movie, all attention diverted to the person next to him. "What's up?" He asks, aware that the gears in Ian's head are turning and taking him down a path he might not end up liking.
Ian shakes his head, still obviously deep in thought. "Nothing. Just thinking."
"About what?"
Their eyes meet, and for the first time in a long time, Mickey sees Ian's eyes are glossy, as if he's trying to hold in tears. He's breathing raggedly through his nose, and his fists are clenching, and it's all probably in the hardest of efforts not to cry.
Mickey scoots over so he's sitting closer. "Is this about Frank? Him dying?"
"Maybe. I don't know. I just remembered it." He gives Mickey a wobbly smile. "It was probably the only time I actually felt accepted by him."
Mickey doesn't understand. Had no idea what even happened with Frank and Ian during that time where he was gathering his brothers for man-slaughter. Ian had warned Frank, and Mickey's mind drifts back to that one conversation—that one sentence that would be disputed by all the years to come.
"He literally did not give a shit we were gay." Ian finally says, and his eyes seem to be clearing, no longer on the verge of breaking down. Mickey absentmindedly goes to grab his hand, stopping him from tearing at an already-bleeding scab. "He told me to fuck whoever I want to fuck. And after that, Monica..." He swallows. "Monica took me to a gay club. Told me to never be ashamed of who I was."
Mickey notices the parallel. That difference between him and Ian that was probably one of the reasons their relationship failed in those first couple of years—those detrimental, pre-bipolar years, where the sole reason for them not being together was Mickey. Ian's family never gave a shit. Mickey's did.
"I'm so fucking sorry, Ian."
He doesn't know why he feels compelled to say it, but he does, perhaps trying to finally apologize for everything that happened all those years ago. For what happened that one morning. For the wedding.
"Sorry for what?" Ian's confused, and Mickey pulls himself even closer to him, placing his head in the crook of his shoulder, letting Ian's arm envelope him. It's one way to hide his face, he guesses.
"For how I was back then. I just kept pushing you away. I was a real fucking asshole."
Ian snorts and kisses the top of Mickey's head. "It worked out, didn't it?"
"It was fucking painful."
"Yeah," Ian admits against his hair. "It was."
Mickey licks his lip, raises his head to look his husband in the eye. "You know I was in love with you, even back then?"
Ian smiles. Cards a hand through Mickey's hair. Runs a gentle palm over Mickey's cheek. Presses a small kiss to his lips. "I know."
They sit in silence for a while, the only sound in their apartment being the rumbling engines of cars coming from somewhere down below in the street.
Mickey breathes in, breathes out. "I regretted it as soon as I said it."
"Regretted what?"
"You were so much more than a warm mouth to me." He lets out a shaky chuckle. "I was a second away from shooting him. I really was. But then I remembered your face. How much I hurt you, and I couldn't fucking do it. All the time I spent in juvie, I spent regretting it."
"Not killing Frank?" Ian says dumbly, and Mickey scoffs, slapping the back of his hand against his chest.
"Hurting you, you dumbass."
They both smile at that, and the tension gets lifted suddenly, the pain replaced with the feeling of comfort that usually follows them being together. Ian holds Mickey tighter against him.
"I wouldn't change it for the world." He whispers, and Mickey feels a warmth spread through his chest.
Mickey agrees. No matter the pain, and suffering. No matter the homophobic piece-of-shit fathers, and bipolar diagnosis—it brought them here. Here, together.
Mickey lets himself grin. Grin at all the shit in their past. Ian grins back, and what more could Mickey want or need?
"I wouldn't either." He says, and means it.
Ian pulls him I'm closer, and they hit play on the movie and continue on with their night, snuggling together, playfully pushing each other for space as they did so.
The past would always fucking be there, but now, it was a reminder more than anything.
#gallavich#i saw a s2 gif and felt compelled to write this#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#ian and mickey#shameless#shameless us#fanfic#gallavich drabble#gallavich ficlet#*ficlet
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