#your friends will throw you into enemy territory

[navybrat817]

Puppy Dog Eyes

Pairing: William Miller x Female Reader

Summary: Will feels betrayed by someone he thought was his ally.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, talk of threats and interrogation, slight feels (it's me, okay?), William Miller (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Inspired by this post @ghotifishreads tagged me in. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Will counted the seconds in his mind as he stared his adversary down. Someone he should've considered an ally. Maybe even a friend. But now? He didn't recognize the beast in front of him.

He was used to people playing dirty behind enemy lines, but this? Betrayal in familiar territory? The sting was like a bullet to the gut.

“Before you test my resolve, I want you to know that I have forty three confirmed kills.”

A huff was the only reply he got.

Crouching down so he was at eye level, he huffed, too. His enemy was much smaller in size, but looks could be deceiving. “Now, I’m not going to hurt you. It wouldn't do either of us any good,” he said, tapping a finger against his thigh. “I just want to know why.”

He didn't get an answer. Only a defiant stare. The silent treatment. That was fine. Nothing he hadn't faced before. He had ways to make enemies talk if it came to that. And the puppy dog eyes wouldn't garner sympathy from him.

Battle had hardened him too much for that.

Shut down. Control. Manipulate. That’s what he did with his human instincts until he completed his mission.

Will continued the staring contest until the smaller one whined. It wasn't an answer, but it was a start. “You made this personal, you know. And I’ll throw you out in the rain if you push your luck,” he threatened, tilting his head to maintain eye contact. “No. You don't get to look away. Not after what you did. After I took you into my home.”

And how did he repay him?

“Honey?”

Your voice pulled Will’s attention away from the task at hand. “Yeah, baby?”

You leaned against the doorway, a smile tugging at your kissable lips. “Are you interrogating Bandit?”

Bandit, the puppy Benny got weeks ago. The puppy you offered to watch since his brother was going out of town for a few days and he didn't want to board him. The same little rascal who chewed up a pair of tennis shoes. New tennis shoes.

And hadn't touched a single one of his chew toys.

Will nodded to his ruined shoes. “You saw what he did.”

“I did and I'm sorry,” you said, though you had no reason to apologize. It wasn't like you chewed them up. “He’s a puppy and they’re going to do those kinds of things from time to time. Is it really worthy of an interrogation?”

“Yes, it is.” Bandit swung his head toward you and whimpered. “No, don’t you-”

“Aww. Is the former Captain bothering you?” You walked over and scooped him into your arms. The light golden puppy snuggled close, but looked at Will like he was taunting him. You had a soft spot for dogs and Bandit sensed that. Used it to his advantage.

“Taking his side?”

“I’m always on your side, Will,” you said, softening his resolve. “Now, Bandit, you know you aren't supposed to do that. Play with your toys, not shoes. Okay?”

Bandit barked. He actually barked for you. How did you do that?

“And apologize to Will,” you urged.

He barked again.

“Good boy,” you smiled as Will stood up and crossed his arms. “And don't worry, we won't throw you out in the rain.”

“I still might just to teach him a lesson,” Will half teased. “Or I can just put him in his cage.”

Bandit whined and hid his face. “Don’t you dare. He’s a puppy, not a soldier. And you were happy with watching him until now. Besides, he said he was sorry,” you said, giving Will your own set of puppy dog eyes.

You had a point. Bandit was a pretty well-behaved puppy, all things considered. He didn't bite. Didn't make a mess when he ate. Went to the door when he had to go outside. And he seemed content to sleep in his dog bed and didn't demand to sleep with the two of you.

“Fine. No cage,” he relented.

“Thank you. And I’m sure Benny will buy you a new pair of shoes once he gets back,” you added.

“Maybe,” he said. He wouldn't hold his breath to get new shoes or money for the damage done. He may be Benny’s big brother, but Benny adored his puppy and would likely blame him for leaving them out in the first place. He had a routine though. He put his shoes in the same spot after he exercised.

To be fair, he should've been more careful. He would be in the future. If anything, he could try to see the positive side of things and use this as a learning experience. That's what you tried to do when you ran into unfortunate situations.

“Is it a bad time to suggest we get our own puppy?” You asked, smiling as you lifted Bandit up higher and put his cheek against yours. “Chewed up shoes and a scratched up couch aside, it might be nice.”

Dogs did make for great companions. He’d be lying if he said he hadn't pictured the two of you having a kid and a dog for them to grow up with. Someone who would be a friend to and watch over his child.

“What do you think?” You smiled when he stayed quiet for too long.

He softly smiled. Most people couldn't sway him to do anything, but you had a way about you. Maybe it was because he loved you. “I’ll think about it.”

You put Bandit down before you leaned in and brushed your lips against Will’s. “Thank you.”

He went in for another kiss, but stopped when the words fully registered. “Wait.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you say scratched up couch?”

“...Did I say that? I don't recall.”

“I remember everything you’ve ever said to me,” he told you.

You put a hand over your heart. “That is so romantic.”

“And you said ‘chewed up shoes and a scratched up couch aside, it might be nice’, so what exactly did he do to our couch?”

Your eyes widened as you took a step back. “Run, Bandit!”

And he did.

I couldn't help myself. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[viperdove-if]

They will sing songs of our legacy, weave tales of the blood we spilled and the hearts we stole. We have carved our names in history, my dove, using the lives of the guilty. And once you are appointed, you too will be marked in legend.

DEMO TBA | CHARACTER POSTS

Genre: dark, crime, romance, gangs

Setting: fictional world of Hera, ancient times

You are the Dove, the heir to one of the most powerful crime families in your country. The grip your family--your father--has on their side of the land is tight, and now that you've reached adulthood it's time for you to be fully absorbed into the machinations of gang warfare. That means opium, mercenaries, assassinations. In this ancient world, blood moves people just as much as money does.

But your family is not the only family with a steel-like grip on Hera. The Dimas family have been your rivals for centuries, a blood feud fueling the anger on both sides. You both fight for territories, for money, terrorize innocent civilians and throw them in a fight they never asked to be part of. Eventually it must end...and eventually it will come down to you and the Viper, the rival heir.

But when murders and kidnappings crop up on both sides of families, the blood feud grows larger. Because there is an even bigger threat coming, and a blood war may be the only way to get out of it.

Viper & Dove is a dark romantic interactive fiction that follows two crime families in a blood feud taking place in ancient times. It is rated 18+ for violence, explicit themes, possible sexual content, and gore.

Customize your heir from name, appearance, gender identity, pronouns, demeanor and more. Customize their approach to their position and how they feel about their family and their responsibilities.

Choose a weapon of choice like a sword, throwing knives, and more.

Choose what kind of heir you want to be, and how far you're willing to go to protect your title from your endless siblings...who are various shades of bloodthirsty.

Indulge in romances that go from a doomed Romeo & Juliet narrative to a bully arranged-marriage romance to a bodyguard romance.

more features to come.

Talon/Thea 'The Viper' Dimas (m/f) : the eldest and heir to your rival family, neither of you can live while the other one breathes. Everyone is waiting with baited breath for the day you two come face to face for a fight to the death to finally bring an end to a century long rivalry...in blood. The day seems to be inching closer, and you wonder if you're prepared.

You are forbidden to see them. Forbidden to speak to them. Romancing them grants a punishment in blood.

Romance: enemies to lovers, forbidden lovers, heirs to rival families, Romeo & Juliet-esque

Alastair (m): your father's advisor, his second-hand man. He is serious, distant, and treats you with neutrality, mostly because of who you are. He oversees everything your father does and your father trusts him with his life. Romancing you would mean certain death for him.

Romance: forbidden romance

Shadow (real name unknown) (m/f): the family's head assassin and lapdog for your father, indebted to him like a prisoner. They have killed many, and their deaths pile up in a way that keeps them quiet and isolated. They do not speak, least of all to you, and you rarely see them underneath their assassins garb.

Romance: forbidden romance

Kalis Dimas (f): the twin of your rival. Even though she is a Dimas, you feel she has no interest in the blood feud. She is too kind, too pure. If anyone were to find you speaking to her--especially her very protective twin--the results could be detrimental to you both.

Romance: forbidden romance

Oren/Odessa (m/f): your betrothed. They are mean, rude, and a bully, and yet you are expected to wed them. After all these years of them bullying you, tormenting you, how could it possibly change?

Romance: bully romance, arranged marriage

Kai/ Kara: (m/f): your childhood best friend. Your guard. The one meant to protect you. They were once an orphan, then found and employed by your father to keep you safe. They take their duty seriously, lest they get thrown out again.

Romance: bodyguard romance, forbidden

Raven/Rome: (m/f) your personal maid/butler, hailing from the servant family that has served yours for generations. They don't look you in the eye and don't dare speak. Some might find their overt politeness endearing.

This is my first interactive-fiction story and I hope you like it. Reblogs are always appreciated, thank you! :)

[brucewaynehater101]

Okay okay, so Tim finds out Bruce is stuck in the timestream and gathers all his siblings + Barbara for a meeting, presenting his evidence, a drafted plan of action to save Bruce . . .

. . . And asks what to do with this information

They all come to an agreement / majority vote

l e t h i m d i e

=========

Once upon a time they thought that Gotham, the world, that they, all needed Batman

Now that isn't the case anymore

Oh he was mourned, by the Justice League, by his allies, by civilians . . .

But the Batfamily has grown into their own, they've found a way to fight for Gotham, Bludhaven, Crime Alley because they've inherited the Fear of Batman

They've found their own ways to instill the fear of them into the criminal world

Their territories are becoming better even despite their Patriarch being dead

And they feel less dead than they were becoming under his thumb

The Dark Knight is Dead; Long Live The Dark Knights

· · ·

People questioned what would happen with the Prince of Gotham dead

Tim tried becoming CEO, but Jason stepped in himself to take the mantle from right under him, citing he was too young and should enjoy his childhood while it still lasted

That started quite a fight between them

Duke Thomas was adopted by Jason and while not technically joining the family's nightlife, Signal could always be found while the sun was up

Gotham's bones broke, organs failed, and flesh was bitten off

Gotham has never been better since Batman or even The Second Robin died

Praise the Batfamily

This is happiness . . .

?

=========

Somebody finds out they let Batman die

Be it the Justice League, other heroes, their rogues, or another hero's rogues, or somebody else entirely

They find out

Do other groups learn by themselves? Does this knowledge come into the hands of people who would spread it?

Either way, the Batclan is going to have to confront that it's known they let Batman die

Is the knowledge it used maliciously, is the accuser wanting answers, or is it a mix of both

Gosh, what will Alfred think if he learns? I imagine that even if he enabled Bruce's abuse they kept him around, stick close enemies and friends after all

(me thinks personally that Joker is throwing a fit with his nemesis dead, and he may not even be able to abuse the fact his own kids killed him cuz it was a child abuser who was killed by his abused)

(but I'd love to see your take on Joker's pov when he only knows Batman is dead and if he learns his kids left him for dead and if he learns they were abused by him and that's why they let him die)

Now I'm wondering what would happen if it got leaked to the public that the Batfamily knew Batman could've been saved but did nothing about it. There could be so many different reactions from different groups

Crime Alley people, criminals, people outside Gotham, Gothamites themselves, and Bludhaven residents would have different takes collectively methinks

Fucking hell, that isn't even accounting for all the fuckery you could do w/ Bruce Wayne = Batman and I'm not talking about an post-mortem identity reveal, I'm talking identity shenanigans

Like say the bats knowing they could have saved Bruce but left him for dead and somebody/some group learns this and leaks it

And then Jason steps in to say "you know the FUCK what? We knew our old man could have been saved and since he was shit we voted/agreed to let him die!!" And all hell breaks loose

And that's just one example!

=========

Inspired by that ask on Jason calling for a family meeting after learning Bruce is stuck in the timestream to figure out what to do from there

+ the one post where Dick tries and fails to get Tim to give up on Bruce so he doesn't embark on BruceQuest and Bruce dies in the Timestream

w/ Cassandra in particular, it'd be fun to explore her psyche in the Vote branch, if she votes to let Bruce die or not considering her "No Kill" stance

Heck, with both branches they alone bring so much fun to the table, even without the flavor of The Reveal

Agreement: You get the explore a world where all the bat kids + Barbara want Bruce dead, by why is it? You get to see all their reasons for it, and how their reasonings may mesh or clash and how they come to make their decisions!

Majority Vote: You get to see the conflicts between those who want him back and want him dead + what they do and think knowing who voted for what then onwards

Bonus if a batsibling or two start of wanting Bruce back but then decide they want him gone, or the reverse, or they flip flop again and again until they make their choice

Either branch I think would overhaul the Batfamily's relationships w/ each other in a major way and not just because someone has to take Bruce's spot as the family head or whatever, but because they chose/voted for said Patriarch to die

That's a big fucking deal

Oh yeah, Duke; is he ever taught about the (technically not) Patricide committed? Or do they keep him ignorant because ignorance is bliss?

Because if he learns through means other than them, yeah it'll be a shit show the Bats won't be prepared for beforehand

Oh yeah what about Gordon? Do you think he'd be in the know or learn via leaks or a leaker cuz he's kind of Barbara's family

Hello!!!!!!!!!!

Tw: abuse, death, murder, child abuse, suicide (let me know if I need to add more)

I love this idea, and I'm totally up for breaking it down.

If it's not an agreement, then it's likely that the ones who disagree will try to save Bruce regardless of what everyone else wants

This will turn into an all-out war as those who want Bruce dead try to prevent the others from succeeding. It would be like a weird version of capture the flag, clue, and escape the room. The save-Bruce team (whether out of love or duty) would need to gather all the evidence that Tim did while fending off attacks and working against the clock (there comes a point in time that it's too late to save Bruce).

Even if they all agree, it's still complicated feelings wise.

Bruce is an abusive piece of shit (especially in this AU), but it's hard to not love your abuser. The cycle of abuse is difficult to break out of. I think Dick and Jason would be at the point they are more apathetic to Bruce's care/love. They are adults who don't rely on him. They might still love Bruce, but it's easier for them to put a defense against the man emotionally to the point of condoning his murder.

Babs and Steph aren't his kids, so, while their feelings aren't black and white, it's easier to distance themselves from Bruce.

Canonically, I think Tim recently got adopted by Bruce. This makes it harder for him to outright reject Bruce. When given evidence (and shown what Bruce did to his other family members), Tim might come to the conclusion that it's better off without Bruce.

Damian is a child who just got to meet his dad. I doubt he'd be on board with this plan nor, with his hero worship, would he be able to find faults in him. He simply hasn't spent enough time with Bruce (and lots of angst to be explored there. Basically, his "siblings" that he's just met are telling him it's better for him if their dad is dead).

Cass loves Bruce. She trusts his mission, what he's supposed to stand for, and that he does love his kids (she can see that he truly does love everyone). At the same time, he hurts her siblings. She doesn't agree with leaving Bruce to die, but her feelings are complicated on the matter.

How the batkids feel about Alfred is similar (although not categorically per a kid) as they feel about Bruce

If they've reached the point where they have acknowledged that Alfred will never be on their side nor protect them, they still love that old man. They want him to be around, they would be sad at his death, but they know Alfred could and has hurt them. They know Alfred would choose Bruce over them.

The JL find out Bruce isn't actually dead with the Black Lantern battle thing.

Theoretically, other heroes can then start trying to save Bruce. Without canon Tim's information, though, they might not be able to. Bonus points to this batfam au if Oracle and others actively sabotage their efforts.

Gordon would be presented with all the evidence that Batman was an abusive piece of shit.

The Commissioner would try to bury any feelings of grief out of guilt for what he's unknowingly allowed his ex friend to get away with. If he knew that Batman was the same boy he threw a jacket over at the scene of that kid's parents' murder, he would sit at his desk with a bottle of scotch and a lit cigarette trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Jim would blame himself, curse Batman, and, as he curses himself for always allowing, do not a damn thing against what the masked vigilantes tell him to do.

Crime Alley and Bludhaven respectively probably would either not give a fuck, say "good riddance," or whistle at the fact the Bat's own kids refused to save him.

Gothamites know their vigilantes. If the batkids had refused to help Batman, than they trust the kids. There's nothing out there that would turn a man's entire family against him besides the man himself. By the end of the week, all Batman related stuff is burnt and replaced by the many symbols of the birds.

Anyone outside of Gotham (besides Bludhaven) will criticize the batkids. Gotham becomes fiercely protective over their birds after that and will fist fight anyone who tries to talk shit about them or their decision.

Fuck Joker, but here's how I think he felt about it.

Man definitely lost his shit in a fit of giggles. It seems (though Joker is slightly disappointed he wasn't part of the final showdown) that Batman was dragged down to the level of madness he swore he'd never go to. If Batman's kids turned against him, oh that must mean that the furry freak truly did horrendous actions against them!

That clown spends several weeks coming up with twisted fantasies and theories to ask out of the Birds to tease out their reactions for when he next sees them. He wants to know exactly how the Dark Knight fell and what was so dastardly to turn children against their father.

After he solves that mystery? Dealer's choice. He doesn't quite get as much joy without Batman around. He can play around with Red Hood and Red Robin specifically (if JJ happened), but nobody is the Dark Knight.

Maybe his melancholy turns into rage where he starts seriously gunning for all the Birds for not returning Batman to him. That, or Joker kills himself cause his nemesis/obsession is gone. Both are likely responses.

Anyways, I also love the positive notes you had that I didn't address. The hopefulness of them doing better for Gotham and Jason adopting Duke is fantastic. I'd love more of that as well as everything else

[middlingmay]

“Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?” buck x bucky?

Hello! Do you know you're my very first Anon ask in my inbox? Thrilled to have you!

Anyway, I had fun with this one. Please enjoy this wee Modern Gale/John, with echoes of a past life. I hope you like it, and thanks for being so patient with me :)

“You look just like my friend Buck from Manitowoc.”

The kitchen table was cold, but it barely registered against the chill those dreams left behind

God, John was so damn sick of those dreams. He was so sick of being paralysed by sleep and being force to watch the same reel he’d dreamed of time and time again flicker through his head.

He had no choice but to watch these two men meet over and over again; to watch a friendship roar to life through immediate unbounded affection and unfurling gestures of trust. He watched as smiles helped to alleviate the hardest days of basic training; as quiet moments together gave them a space to sort out their thoughts away from the rest of them; as spirited discussions led to better strategies, better leadership, and endless respect between these two men.

He watched as physical affection grounded the men when they needed it most: arms thrown over shoulders, hands squeezing thighs, gentle chucks to the chin.

“Don’t you die on me before I get over there.”

John had to watch something in Bucky change after that first combat flight.

“I got a nickname for you and it ain’t Buck!”

No. No one was Buck. Why couldn’t he just say that, though? John tried to yell at Bucky as he dreamed - tried to scream at him - just tell him!

“I don’t feel a thing.”

In these strange and awful dreams, John had to watch Bucky lose his men and go out of his way to get himself hurt because it was the only way he could let himself acknowledge the pain without crumbling to dust underneath it.

“We’re gonna get through this. Come on. Don’t you stop believing that.”

John had to watch Bucky package away all his fears, his frustrations, his doubts, and hide it all the way out of Buck’s sight. He’d believe enough for the two of them. He’d get them both out of there if it killed him.

“London. Let’s do it up. Paint the town red.” “Maybe next time.”

John had to watch Bucky watch Buck dance away with Meatball - so utterly ridiculous and endearing and he feels the grief start to flare to life in his chest. Don’t go. Don’t you goddamn leave him again. Go up with him. Fly with him. Don’t let yourselves go alone!

“Did he have a good game?”

John had to watch Bucky lose Buck all over again, and saw the angry, violent grief wash over this man and drag him down, passed the man he used to be; down in the esteem of his men; and down into enemy territory and the horrors he had to feel and flee and flee again.

Until:

“Do any of you know if Buck made it?” “John Egan! Your two o’clock!”

John finally got to see Bucky feel the smallest flash of incandescent joy as he realises Buck is alive and he might be able to keep his promise after all. But soon after, when time starts to pass in the Stalag, he has to watch Bucky spiral, and he sees Buck watching and trying to keep the men and himself together so they can keep Bucky together. But it’s like keeping water in a cracked vase. John had to watch Buck witness Bucky lose himself until he was so unrecognisable that he hurt Buck and Buck punched him -

And John had to watch that awful march in the cold and the dark, and see the terror both Buck and Bucky feel when the other stumbles or slows.

And then it’s the night in the village when Bucky sacrifice the only two things that kept him breathing - Buck and his freedom - without a second thought. So long as Buck got out. John had to watch Bucky throw himself at the German with the gun and knock the rifle away because he couldn’t risk a stray bullet.

“Go! Get out of here!”

And when John finally got to see Bucky and Buck reunite, all they get to share is a handshake, which they clutch to like a lifeline, and later a flask. Then he’s watching Buck and Bucky go their separate ways until Bucky is at Buck’s back as he gets married -

“John? You in here, baby?”

John returns to the present, and his eyes latch onto the sleepy posture, messy hair, and concerned gaze of his husband standing in the kitchen doorway. His Gale. Who pads over on bare feet and John feels the heat of his long, strong hands cupping his cheeks.

John always felt overwhelmed by his love whenever he looked at Gale, but tonight he burns with a love, a desperation, that feels more than his own; more than he could fit into one lifetime. And the edges of the dream still toe the boundaries of his consciousness.

“Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?”

John only feels the tears now, as they roll fat and slow down from the corners of his eyes. His nose stings and his throat feels thick.

He whispers brokenly, “Buck…”

Gale’s face crumples as he recognises the name. John only ever calls him that after those dreams. Those awful, heartbreaking dreams of Buck and Bucky, gifted the joy of knowing each other, loving each other, and torn apart time and time again.

Gale grabs handfuls of John and switches places, so he can sit down and gather and tuck John into his lap, until all of him is curled and curved and protected in his embrace.

Buck might not have been able to do this for Bucky, but Gale can do it for John. And be grateful for the privilege.

He places slow, heavy strokes down John’s side as he shakes.

After a time, he mumbles against Gale’s chest, “Do you think they ever got to be happy?”

See, John is convinced they were real, Buck and Bucky. Gale has even offered to look them up, see if he can find some kind of record in the archives. But something about getting that confirmation, seeing the faces of two men that John sees as echoes of them - it's too much. He doesn't want to know.

“I don’t know,” Gale answers truthfully. “But right here, now, we can be happy enough for both of ‘em.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

"Don't be gentle with me—I like it when you're rough." And “That Noise…keep making it.” With Garrick if it strikes your fancy?? Like they’re friendly and reader is In their friend group but you know. ~mutual pining~ and maybe they’re sparring but then *peak sexual tension*

warning: maybe slightly steamy.

Scream it why don't you

You two were the definition of enemies to lovers. Or more like enemies in love. Or lovers too prideful to acknowledge their feelings. Rilling each other up had become your hobby and quite frankly you both took it seriously. There wasn't a day when you two weren't jabbing insults at one another or pushing each other to a limit. To an untrained eye, it looked borderline mental. To your friends, it was an average Monday.

You all usually trained together away from other cadets. Not that you had anything against them, your group just enjoyed private time for that where you all could talk without any priding eyes. But that also meant that any restrictions you did have when upper superiors were around were out the window.

"Tell me that today is my lucky day", Bodhi muttered as he stretched next to you. "If you're once again asking me to get on my knees for you that will never happen, Bo", you chuckled leaning forward to meet your toes. Bodhi snickered, "I was drunk and that was one time", he said in defense, "And you do know that most males can't resist you". You smiled to yourself, "Full of flattery today aren't we?".

You leaned to the side, popping your hip out towards the guy. Not enough to touch him in any way but the implication was quite obvious. "Look...", Bodhi breathed out. "The only way you're looking is in the other directions", Garrick's voice sounded from the other side of you, "Move Durran". The warning was so clear. And gods did his territorial side turn you on. "Jeez man... I wasn't doing anything", Bodhi huffed.

"You're being mean Tavis", you sang, coming right up as you stood to face him. "What games are you playing?", he said through gritted teeth. You just tapped his cheek a couple of times, before walking past him, "Deflate your ego, it's cutting off your blood circulation".

But you had barely made a step past him before he gripped your hand, pulling you back to him, "Careful, baby, or you might end up regretting your actions". You pressed your body even closer to his, "You want me to simply moan it or should I scream it instead?", you batted your lashes at him, making him curse under his breath. "Get your ass on the sparring mat", Garrick said through gritted teeth. "Uu, exhibitionism, I like that", you nodded, strolling through the gym, making sure to sway your hips even more.

You caught a glimpse of Imogen as she shook her head trying to suppress a laugh. Xaden smirked as he moved to turn around. You cracked your knuckles before stepping into the position. Garrick's dark eyes followed you, as he too stepped closer. Pulling his shit off his body with one smooth mission. Your eyes lingered on his muscles. How could they not? He was a good-looking guy there was no denying that. You shook your head quickly, "Don't be gentle with me, I like it rough", you muttered.

Garrick struck first with a growl but you dodged it effortlessly. Twirling and turning. Throwing each other off balance but never close enough to land a decent blow. Until you made a false move, allowing Garrick to pull at your wrist. He spun you around till your back was tightly pressed against his chest. One of his hands holding your hand beneath your back, the other coming to wrap around your neck. It was shameful truly the way you had whimpered when he pressed harder, cutting off the flow of air ever so slightly. You pressed harder onto his crotch, feeling the already forming hard-on. Garrick pulled your head back, closer to him. Making you moan out once more. "Keep making the pretty sound for me, baby", he whispered, nibbling on the side of your neck as your eyes rolled back.

"We do have underage kids here, guys", Imogen shouted, breaking out of the intimate bubble. Causing your eyes to shoot open. "Fuck that", Bodhi hissed, "Date already because my sanity can no longer stand this", he huffed making you giggle. You ran your hand along Garrick's thighs as he prospered your shoulder and neck with kisses, smirking to himself. "Back room in ten?", he questioned against your ear. You turned to face him fully now that he had let go of you, "Make it five, I have needs", you pushed to your tiptoe whispering right against his lips before pulling away.

[cloudcountry]

familiar soul

Genre/Tropes: Reincarnated lover with memory loss. Falling in love all over again!

Summary: in the past Lilia and mc are lover Lilia want to take her hand in marriage but unfortunately because of war mc died protecting him. Lilia regret and he live in sorrow even though he covered it up since he doesn't want to worry his son until the day when he saw mc show up in front of mirror with Grim in Crowley hand and he knew that she is his past lover and this is her new reincarnation so he decide to pursue her again and this time he won't let her go again. Mc doesn't remember her past lived but whenever she saw Lilia she felt like she know him but can't remember.

Author's Comments: GAHHHH I LOVE THE REINCARNATED LOVERS TROPE

~~~~~

Bodies wriggling on the blood soaked dirt. Fire consuming buildings and the flesh of children. The realization that he couldn’t protect them all, no matter how hard he tried, flashing through his exhausted brain. Focus on the enemy and destroy them. That’s all he had to do. Blurs of fallen soldiers and the loud booms of weaponry firing. Was the person next to him a friend or foe? The stink of blood clogged up his lungs. The adrenaline kept him going, kept him pushing, kept him slashing and fighting deeper into enemy territory.

It kept him til the eventual end of a battle.

The collection of the wounded, the tending of their injuries. The searching for friends and loved ones among the chaos. His certainty that they made it out okay.

The confusion when they weren’t among the wounded.

The adrenaline returning as he rushed out into the battlefield, eyes scanning the piles of bodies frantically.

The burst of white-hot fear in his chest when he saw a familiar arm under an enemy soldier, the limb splattered with blood and unmoving. Subconsciously moving towards the pile, throwing off bodies left and right until he reached them. Their eyes, open. A knife plunged into their chest. Their lips, parted as if seeing the sun for the first time after an endless night.

The war, glorified.

The acceptance centuries later.

The confusion now, as a familiar soul stepped out of a coffin at NRC’s orientation.

Lilia Vanrouge had seen everything. He’d been through so much to get to where he was today, and he was sure nothing else could surprise him. Maybe it was conceited of him to think so, especially when he’d seen your eyes and the secrets they held and thought that he’d seen them before.

He had.

He almost shuddered in his seat as the little cat monster threw a fit, but made no move toward you. There was no telling if you remembered him or not, and he hoped you didn’t.

Days passed by.

It was only when Leona overblotted that he really got a chance to speak with you.

“Prefect?” he placed a hand on your shoulder, tilting his head to get a better look at your face, “May I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure.” you turned around, and his suspicions were confirmed.

Nobody else in the world looked at him like that.

You were indeed them, come back from the dead to grant him peace in this world that moved far too fast.

“I must thank you for getting involved when our Housewarden was in danger. You were very brave.” he said.

Too brave.

“Malleus is precious to Briar Valley as the heir to the throne, and you stepping up to defend him has earned you my gratefulness and deepest respect,”

You got yourself killed last time.

You blinked, a bit surprised at his sudden admission before smiling.

“It’s no problem. You should be thanking Cater though, not me. He’s the one that exhausted himself with this plan. I’m just glad it all worked out.” you laughed.

Laughing in the face of hardship. Never taking credit for your achievements. Always telling Lilia you weren’t as amazing as he thought you were.

It was taking everything in him to prevent him from pulling you into his arms.

“Do...” you snapped him out of his trance, eyes narrowing, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Lilia couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sheer joy in knowing that you also held a part of that time in your heart overwhelming him.

“You do.” he smiled, wishing he could reach out and touch you but managing to hold himself back.

“Weird...I don’t remember you at all but I feel like I do.” you sighed, rubbing your temples, “I feel like I know your name, too. Is that weird? I’m sorry if that’s weird.”

“What’s your guess?” he chuckled.

“L...Lily? Lils? Something like that.” you answered, and he couldn’t help but beam at the clear recognition you displayed.

“Lilia. Lilia Vanrouge.” he nodded, offering you his hand, “I’m delighted that you remember. We used to be-”

“Vice Housewarden Vanrouge!” Crowley called out, “We need you to escort Kingscholar to the infirmary!”

“I don’t need to go to the infirmary. I could beat them all right here and now.” Leona grunted, shooting Crowley a glare.

Lilia sighed, patting you on the shoulder.

“I’ll tell you everything later.” he hummed, “There’s one thing you should know, though. You were important to me a while ago. Now that I have you back, I’m not going to let you go again.”

🦇

That night at Ramshackle, you quickly discovered that you couldn’t sleep. Your tossing and turning almost woke up Grim on multiple occasions, but he was quick to drift off again.

If only you could do that.

Staring at the wall, you couldn’t stop fidgeting and kicking your legs. What did Lilia mean? You two knew each other? You’d never seen him before in your life—and you’d remember someone that eccentric. Except you did remember him. But you didn’t.

Sighing, you flung your legs out of bed and threw the blankets to the side. There was no use in trying to sleep if your mind was all muddled. Sliding your feet into your slippers, you crept down the Ramshackle halls and out into the front lawn. The night air was crisp and cool, a gentle wind pricking your skin with cold air. Ignoring the shiver that wracked your body, you sat down on the front steps and stared up at the sky.

There had to be some sort of truth to the strange student’s words. You didn’t feel like you were meeting a new person entirely—it felt like meeting a friend for the first time in a while.

Friend?

That didn’t sound right.

You frowned, reaching up to rub your temples. Maybe you should wait for him to explain it to you tomorrow when you could ask him your questions yourself-

“I didn’t expect you to be awake.” Lilia hummed, hanging upside down in front of you.

You yelped, jerking backward as he landed gracefully on his feet.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that expression!” he laughed, sitting down next to you, “Now, I can only imagine you have a lot of questions for me. I’ll try to answer them all. Just let me know if I’m starting to freak you out too much.”

“Um…wow, you just cut to the chase. How did you get out of your dorm this late?” you asked, furrowing your brow “I thought we weren’t supposed to leave.”

“Is anyone going to catch me around Ramshackle?” he shot back, a smug grin on his features, “We’re safe. Don’t worry.”

Well, you couldn’t really argue with that.

“You’re right.” you mumbled, turning your gaze to the ground, “...How do you know who I am?”

“You were from...my past. You’re obviously not the same person, but you’re too alike...” he shrugged, chuckling when you shot him a baffled look, “You two have the same feeling...the same soul. You have the same mannerisms and facial expressions. I would have to be an idiot to forget how you were before.”

“What were we?” you breathed, meeting his gaze once again.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he pursed his lips, tilting his head, “We were in love. You loved me so much you sacrificed your life for me. I thought I’d never see you again.”

“...What?” you shuddered, a jolt of recognition coursing through your veins.

Obviously you died.

You died in the field of battle.

You died in an attempt to stop someone from stabbing Lilia from behind.

He didn’t find you until the battle was over.

There were so many enemies he didn’t even see you fall.

Your body had been trampled, and then buried under enemies and allies alike.

You clutched your knees to your chest, overwhelmed.

Tears leaked from your eyes.

What a horrible thing to remember.

A warm arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into Lilia’s chest. He held you tightly, pulling the shattering pieces of you back together. He rubbed comforting shoulders on your back as flashes of memories overtook you, making your head hurt so badly you thought your skull was caving in.

“I’m so sorry.” he squeezed you tighter, “I’ll never let anything like that happen again. It doesn’t matter if we end up together once again or end up apart, I will always protect you. You have my word.”

“There was so much blood.” you whispered, clinging to his jacket with all your might, “How…? How did we end up fighting? What happened?”

“I was one of the royal guards. I had to. You never should have gotten mixed up in it. You were strong, but if I’d known…if I’d had a little less faith in you…” he laughed, the sound more bitter than it was before, “You were just too strong. I thought you were ready. I’m so sorry for letting you go out there.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” you sniffled, pulling away from him, “I don’t blame you, so don’t blame yourself.”

“You’re a saint.” he said, shaking his head, “But no. I can’t accept your forgiveness. I should have been more aware.”

“But I’m here now, aren’t I?” you tried to smile, shaking away the thoughts from your head, “I…don’t want to think about dying anymore. It’s…strange. Almost paradoxical. It makes me feel everything I felt before I passed and I’m not sure why but it’s a horrific feeling.”

“You’re dealing with it well. You’re just as strong as I remember.” Lilia said, lacing your fingers together.

“Well…I’ve gotten used to strange things happening. I kinda don’t…care as much anymore.” you shrugged, “It’s not like I’m chill with me dying, but I’ve gotten quick at coping with things.”

“You shouldn’t have to be.”

“But I am.”

“But you shouldn’t have to be. I spent centuries mourning you after you passed.”

You flinched, and he winced.

“Sorry. No talking about your death.”

“It’s fine. I…I know we’re connected somehow, and maybe you’re the entire reason I was brought here in the first place, but…” you bit your bottom lip thoughtfully, “I don’t want to just go back to how things were back then, you know? I mean, I remember you, but I’ve mostly forgotten.”

“Don’t worry. I know.” he let go of your hand, turning his gaze back towards the starry sky, “I’m going to let you get to know me again. I’m going to help you through however many headaches and emotional breakdowns you get from remembering. You’re never under an obligation to spend time with me or feel the same way you did centuries ago. I’m content knowing that you’re safe, and if your fate in this life is finding someone else then I’ll live with that. But please, whatever you do, just let me protect you.”

“Of course.” you answered immediately, confident in your response, “I don’t know you at all, but something inside me knows I can trust you.”

He grinned, locking eyes with you again.

“And that’s all I need.”

[howlingday]

HERO'S ARC

Gist: Oversimplified Punic War w/ Papa and Jaune Arc

---------------------------------------------

Papa Arc: Here is my proposal. You give me an army so that I can conquer Mistral and expand our territory, rebuild our economy with their resources, and we'll be able to pay Atlas back in no time~!

Ozpin: This sounds great and all, but just to be sure, you're not going to use this army to go on a bloodthirsty revenge spree against Atlas, are you? Because we can't affor that.

Papa Arc: Oz, my old friend, I am simply going... to PAY... THEM... BACK.

Ozpin: ...Well, that's not reassuring.

---------------------------------------------

Papa Arc: Jaune?

Jaune: Yeah, Dad?

Papa Arc: Would you like to come with me to build an empire in Mistral.

Jaune: Oh boy, would I~?!

Papa Arc: Isabella, do you mind if I take our nine year old son with me? I want to implant an intense hatred of Atlas in him and prepare him for a glorious campaign of vengeance.

Mama Arc: ...Ugh. Just try not to traumatize him, Nicholas.

Papa Arc: No promises~!

---------------------------------------------

Papa Arc: Boy... Do you see that kingdom over there?

Jaune: Yes, father?

Papa Arc: That... is Atlas. Do you know what we do to Atlesians?

Jaune: No, father.

Papa Arc: We HATE them, Jaune. We hate them with every fiber of our being!

Jaune: But why, father? Can't I just play with my Digimons?

Papa Arc: NO, SON! They took everything from us! Our land! Our wealth! Our pride!

Jaune: ...Those monster! I'll tear them limb from limb! I'll burn their pathetic kingdom to the ground!

Jaune: ...Dad?

Papa Arc: (Sniffles) I'm- I'm sorry, son, I... I've just never been so proud! Keep going.

Jaune: I'll slaughter their people.

Papa Arc: (Blubbering)

Jaune: I'LL CUT OFF THEIR FACES AND WEAR THEM AS MASKS!

Papa Arc: (Sobbing loudly, Hugging him) I LOVE YOU, SON!

---------------------------------------------

Li Ren: Hey! What the hell are you doing here?! This is my land!

Papa Arc: I'm teaching my son to be a great warrior.

Li Ren: Aw~! Well, that's sweet. Well then, little guy, let's see what you got.

Jaune: (Cuts Li Ren in half)

Papa Arc: ...Good boy. (Tosses treat)

Jaune: (Jumps and catches treat)

---------------------------------------------

Jaune: (Adult, Scarred, Beheads general)

Papa Arc: (Hugs Jaune, Sniffling) Dad! Not in front of the enemy!

Enemy Troops: (Laughing)

Jaune: (Throws sword into trooper face)

Papa Arc: You killed that guy so well, son~! (Hugs tighter)

Enemy Troops: (Laughing harder)

Jaune: DAD!

---------------------------------------------

Clover: What is this?! What are you up to, Arc?!

Papa Arc: I'm simply gathering the funds to pay Atlas back.

Clover: Oh... Well, okay then... Or are you rebuilding your strength to go on a BLOODTHIRSTY REVENGE SPREE?!

Papa Arc: Like I said, Ebi, I am simply trying to PAY... YOU... BACK.

Nora: Aw~! You guys are hugging~!

Papa Arc: N-NO WE'RE NOT! (Shoves)

Clover: (On the ground) ...I was. I WAS HUGGING! (Openly sobs)

---------------------------------------------

Jaune: Wait, Dad, I'm confused. Are we really only paying Atlas back? I thought we were going to go on a bloodthirsty revenge spree.

Papa Arc: We are, son! I'm just saying that to get the Atlesians off our backs! Here's the most important thing you should know, Jaune...

Papa Arc: REVENGE. IS. EVERYTHING. An all-encompassing thirst for revenge is great for your mental health! Are you still confused?

Jaune: No, no, I get it now! But what if Atlas learns what we're doing?

Papa Arc: They won't find out.

Jaune: Why not?

Papa Arc: Because I use... (Lifts mask)

Ruby: TODAY'S SPONSOR, DustVPN~!

Jaune: ...I'm confused again.

---------------------------------------------

Papa Arc: Well, son, here's to many more years in Mistral! Now, if you'll excuse me, I just have to go fight those guys over there. See you later, son! I love you-

Papa Arc: (SPEARED!)

Jaune: ...

Papa Arc: (Mufasa Cloud) What the-?! Seriously?! I DROWNED?! Ah, well...

Papa Arc: Always remember, son...

Papa Arc: YOU! ARE! VENGEANCE~! (Fades away)

Jaune: ...

Papa Arc: (Comes back) Also, delete my browsing history.

[bloodycherry22]

Adoration | Ellie Williams

Genre: Sub!Ellie, smut

Summary: Ellie likes- no, adores you, she sees you easily killing enemies as if it is a usual mundane task and can’t help but feel attracted to you, little did she know, you quite like her too. She’s on a your patrol route, and finds herself needing you, you sure as hell don’t mind.

Warnings: Violence (against hunters) smut, a lot of making out, the knee thing, fingering, over-stimulation, Ellie receiving, cussing..um gayness? i dunno read at your own risk lmao.

Not proofread, 3k+ words.

Ellie couldn't take her eyes off you, travelling over your form as you skillfully swung the weapon laced tightly in your fingers. She seriously couldn't fathom how you held yourself with so much confidence, the way that you easily swung swords and launched arrows with not a shine of fear in your eyes. It motivated her, impressed her. She stood beside you, quietly sharpening her dagger, a small smile upon her face.

The rock she was sat on sure wasn't comfy but it would do, you had both only planned to take a small break to collect yourselves, having been patrolling for about an hour. The beginning of the route, she had seen countless times yet you were about to enter unknown territory for her, a route usually Joel took, or you. She had never been on patrol with you but with Jesse and Dina going together, as they were finally dating..again., you offered to take her.

She had instantly accepted, rarely getting the opportunity to have a one on one chat with you as most hangouts included mutual friends. But boy, she had always wanted too, she didn't know that you had just been waiting for the right opportunity to ask her, just as desperate to hang out with her as she was with you. She looked down at her dagger and decided that she was finished with her task, throwing the thin rock to the ground, making a quiet thud, as she stuffed the dagger into it's selected place.

Your gaze landed on her at the sudden noise, checking to see what its was before puffing a small chuckle out, she quietly laughed in response. "Sorry" She apologized and nodded at the rock.

You shook your head, lips curling into a smile "It's no worries" You nodded at the pathway ahead, beginning to carefully walk downhill, she followed, the sound of her light footsteps reassuring you of her presence. "So, how come Jesse and Dina are out together, i thought they-"

"Broke up? Yeah, happens all the time, they always end up back together" She said comically and you laughed a little, nodding "I see, didn't know they got over it so fast, they only broke up like last week"

"Yeah, romance just falls at their feet, weird huh?" She asked, before near slipping, arms spreading out in attempt to steady herself however you were quick to place your hand on her shoulder, basically catching her. Her hand was quick to land on yours as she fixed her balance, a light shade of pink dusting her cheeks. "Very" You teased, smiling, face hinting at mischief as you ushered her to stand in front of you. "It's only downhill for a little longer, then it's basically flatland, minus quite a few lakes, it's why the horses aren't really meant to come this way." You stated, placing your hand on her lower back to keep her steady as you both began to trudge through the light layer of mud decorating the hill.

She nodded "Yeah, i think shimmer wouldn't even consider this trail, if anything she'd snort and storm off" She joked, causing some light laughter. When you had finally reached the bottom of the hill, you jumped ahead of her to reach out a hand for her, there being a steep jump down, no higher than 4ft.

Her eyes widened as she watched you mindlessly jump down, an impressed laugh slipping out of her as she shook her head and took your hand, she feeling of her soft yet calloused hand gripping yours making your skin prick with invasive goosebumps that you're sure she noticed, because you sure as hell noticed the way her facial expression changed. A small smile spread across her freckled, slightly red cheeks, eyes not daring to meet yours. You helped her down and looked around, sadly dropping her hand, though she didn't complain.

The setting was different to all the other patrols, being more of a mountain side area, the view being mostly hills and mountains further away, still quite high up, but a clear bit of flat land surrounding you, both of your figures encased by the forest, a wide man-made path showing through the trees. Your eyes flickered around the trees, making sure there were no straggling runners or infected from your last patrol and to your surprise, there was none.

"Hey, Ells, be on edge, kay?" You stated, the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease, although her chest fluttered and face froze at it, heat bundling in her, she couldn't help the excitement. Yet she regained focus and held her dagger tightly, staying close behind you. "It is unusually quiet" She mumbled and you nodded, scoping out the area, when she turned to look around, she suddenly felt a grip on her arm, pulling her back, just as she was about to say something, a hand covered her mouth.

She was prepared to attack until a soft hand held the one holding her dagger, and suddenly she inhaled the scent she knew to be yours. Turning to look at you, confusion plastered all over her flustered face, you removed your hand from her mouth and held it to your own, signalling to shush.

As she caught on, she looked around, you had pulled her into the deeper side of the forest, everywhere drowned in shades of green, hard to actually see into, although you knew hiding spots. You would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the way it felt to have her in your arms, even if it was just for a second, how close she was, how you could smell the strong woodiness and musk yet somehow feminine scent coming from her, making it hard to focus, the reason behind why it took you so long to prevent her from stabbing you.

Soon, you heard some deep gruff voices, the reason you had pulled Ellie away, she looked at you dumbfounded "You noticed them?" She whispered and with a proud smirk, you nodded, peeking around, landing on the group of three men, presumably hunters or just travelling men, either way, they were covered in blood splatters and all looked like the usual, bigot, generally disrespectful man.

They were talking about some girl, something they had done, something not worthy to have on their conscience, you and Ellie shared a look of agreement before you carefully loaded your bow as their voices grew closer. You watched, carefully aiming s they aggressively talked to one another, walking single file , bacls now facing you, so you took the chance. Firing an arrow directly at the last mans head, watching as he silently dropped to the ground, you nodded at Ellie for her to go around.

"Kyle? Shit! Kyle's dead!" One of the men yelled, however you were already heading towards them, an arrow flying straight through the yelling mans head as you mumbled a string of degrading curse words towards him before making eye contact with the now fearful man. He held up his hatchet and swung it around as if to warn you but you just raised an eyebrow, putting your bow away behind your back with care, ignoring his remarks, he seemed utterly confused. That was until Ellie grabbed him from behind and slit his throat, dodging the blood as best as she could.

You looked around before sighing in relief, looking into Ellie's deep eyes, she chuckled lightly as you did the same. "They were really dumb" You said, astonished. She laughed and nodded "I'm glad you see that too" She said, beginning to walk beside you, she noticed the way you looked around, now checking your surroundings with more depth. "It's kind of getting dark" Ellie stated, looking around at the sunset.

"Fuck, i forgot, we came out later, I didn't even consider the shorter days" You groaned and paused, looking back at the direction you came from. "I don't think climbing up that slope in the dark is a good idea" You suggested and Ellie nodded, seeming to not like the idea one bit. "So, what do we do?" Ellie asked, sincerely, making eye contact with you, it was clear that she was gaining more confidence around you and you took notice of it, shining her a smile and saying "Don't panic, I know there's a few buildings just outside of the woods." You confirmed and she nodded.

So, you both walked, with more care, towards the exit of the woods, shoulders bumping with almost every step, bodies just brushing against each other, Ellie looking around to avoid making eye contact, too flustered by the gentle touches but you weren't embarrassed, not hiding the glances you took at her, admiring the way her hair fell over her face that now seemed to permanently have a blush painting her cheeks, the way her hand rested over the dagger tucked away, tattoo just showing through her sleeve.

You brushed some leaves away and held them up for her as she stepped out of the forestry, sending you a thankful smile. She then stopped and looked around, you nodded at a small patch of forestry a few meters up and she raised a brow. Despite her clear confusion, she walked towards the trees and bushes, glancing back at you every few steps, you just laughing a little and nodding forward.

Once you reached it, you stepped in front of her and pushed some fallen branches to the side, revealing a trapdoor. "Found this a few weeks ago, and I've never had to stay in it overnight, but there's countless times I've just came here for some peace and quiet." You informed and she seemed shocked, looking around, no one would even have guessed there to be a bunker, but you did.

She watched as you opened it up and held it open for her, she smiled once again before climbing in, staying near the entrance and waiting for you. She had second guessed how close she had stood to the entrance as she suddenly felt your breath against the back of her neck, your hands clenching into tight fists a to not land on her waist, feeling a sense of tension in the air. You broke the heat of the moment by flicking the light on "Solar power" You muttered, hand gently nudging her forward. It wasn't huge, but it held a bed, a couch, a mini fridge and a table. It was ever so slightly cluttered and there was a small pile of novels and comics you had clearly left.

Ellie moved around to explore as you locked the trapdoor, not wanting any trouble. "Who do you think owned this?" She asked, hand brushing over the couch, then table before turning to you.

"Pff, god knows..not many people, couldn't have been more than one or two of them living here" You shrugged "But I assure you, they aren't here anymore" You joked, chuckling lightly and she, again, smiled in response. Her hand fumbled with some of the comics, flicking through the pile as you dropped your belongings and flopped onto the old couch.

She grabbed one of the comics and sat beside you, knees touching as the couch was only small, you tipped your head back against the soft cushion and kept your eyes on her, your arm spreading over the back of the couch, just millimeters away from being around her. She didn't seem to mind and started flicking through the pages, you watched, a small hmm leaving your mouth. "What?" she asked, not looking away from the graphic novel in her hands, you just shook your head, even though she couldn't see, pulling a leaf out of her hair with a cheeky smile. She lifted her gaze to the leaf before looking at you with a n impressed face, laughing a little. "Heavy forestry" She stated and you nodded, gaze flickering over her face, noticing a little blood.

"Blood" You commented, lifting your over hand to gently swipe your thumb over her cheek, wiping away the blood as you leaned closer to examine it. "It's not mine" She reassured and you nodded, noticing no injury, but not straying from your position, admiring the closeness between your figures.

You noticed the way her eyes moved up and down, looking at your eyes and lips frequently. You smirked at her lingering gaze on your lips, out of habit licking them, she seemed to shudder and looked back up at your eyes, it suddenly felt as if she was closer. But you weren't complaining at all. With another hum, you closed the gap, hand on the side of her face as your fingertips just gently dug into her hair, lips pressing softly against hers.

She was shocked to say the least, having completely doubted the idea you liked her back, but when she came to her senses she kissed back desperately as if the world depended on it. Your other hand pulled the comic book out of her grip and gently dropped it to the ground, smirking into the kiss as her hands snaked around your neck. You tilted your head to the side to deepen the kiss, feeling her fingers tangle into your hair.

Suddenly she pulled back, staying close, both of you breathing heavily, chuckling lightly. "I've wanted to do that for so long" You confessed and she nodded bashfully "I've wanted you to do that, for so long" She explained, in between breaths.

Both of you looked at each other in a comfortable silence, before you removed your hand from her face and let it fall to her waist, turning her body to face you. She watched as you kneel between her legs that now lay comfortably on the couch pillows, her back against the side of the couch. With a content smile, you leaned in to kiss her again, letting your lips part with hers into an open mouth kiss, tongues meeting in a desperate ecstasy, fighting for dominance.

You experimentally lifted your knee to her heat, feeling the way her body jolted at the sensation and a quiet whimper filled the kiss. You shivered at the sound, feeling your head spin at her reaction.

With a quiet sigh, you felt the way she gently began rocking against your knee, high pitched sounds being muffled by the kiss. Lips moving perfectly against your own somehow, despite her pleasure. Even though you didn't want to, you pulled away from the kiss, noticing her lips were now a darker shade of red from your affection. Her eyes were glassed over, looking at you as her mouth stayed open, she watched the way you dipped into the crook of her neck, leaving gentle kisses on the skin you could clearly see, nibbling gently in an attempt to leave light marks on her collarbone.

You began to tense your thigh, noticing the way she let out a choked moan, hands gripping the material of your shirt. You smirked, trailing kisses up to her jaw, pausing by her ear to whisper "C'mon baby, cum for me" You teased, feeling the way her thighs attempted to close around you, the noises growing louder and hips sputtering, all signalling her orgasm. Her grip on your shirt loosened as she fell back against the couch, panting.

With a proud smirk, you sat up to kiss her, only for a few seconds before looking into her eyes. "Fuck" She mumbled and you laughed lightly, her eyes stayed on you, one of her hands reaching to brush some hair out of your face. "Why haven't we done this sooner?" She asked and you shrugged comically, letting your fingers dance down to her hips, hooking under the material of her jeans, feeling the goosebumps on her skin.

Slowly, you unbuckled the buttons and gave her a look of questioning, as if asking if it was okay. "Yes- please" She nodded, responding in less than a second, voice needy and breathy. You pursed your lips in anticipation and tugged down her jeans along with her underwear, leaving them just below her knees, not wanting to deal with the effort.

She lifted her head to kiss your collarbone, as if giving you something in return, but her gentle touching faltered a the feeling of your fingertip gently circling her clit, a gasp emitting from her, breath hot against your skin. You snickered a little, letting your other hand gently rub at the skin of her thigh, her kissing resuming, one of her hands playing with your hair, careful not to mess it up. Your finger moved, teasing her for just a moment, staying still before pushing it into her, thumb landing on her clit, a surprised mewl escaping her mouth, muffling into your neck. Her kisses made your eyes flutter shut as you began to thrust your finger back and forth slowly, curling it with every movement. Her kisses grew faultier, mouth open, her whimpers ringing in your ear pleasantly, encouraging you.

You carefully began to speed up your movements, feeling the way her cunt tightened and the way she began to moan, her hand gently tugging at your hair. Your thumb began to circle her clit at a fast pace, applying pressure. Her free hand landed on your wrist as her head fell back against the couch, eyes looking into yours as she shook her head. " 's too much, y/n" She whined, breath hitching as you kept going, relishing on the way she gripped your wrist and the way her eyes closed, panting.

"You can take it, know you can" You teased, voice having a sense of fake comfort to it, loving the way her back arched and hips began to buck against your hand. A loud moan came from her, biting down on her lip to quieten herself as she came undone onto your hand, her release coating your hand.

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her jaw as you slowly removed your hand, taking her own into yours and interlacing your fingers with hers. She breathed heavily, eyes screwed shut as she tried to regain full consciousness. "Holy shit.." She breathed out "y-your turn" She mumbled, eyes fluttering open.

A/n: I'm so sorry if this is bad, i just wrote continuously for hours and then boom, a fic. I hope it's okay to the original requester, part two anyone?

[icallhimjoey]

To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It’s just that… you don’t really get along all that well, do you? At least, that’s what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers, slooow burn, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader, eventual smut, talk of teenage!trauma (men are men and teenage girls are teenage girls) - nothing graphic, but, you know, a trigger warning feels right

Author’s note: new territory! fresh waters! my first ever part 6! wahhh!

Wordcount: 4.6K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

Sudden loud voices, followed by the slam of a closing front door shocked you awake. Not enough for you to actually open your eyes, but enough to propel you back into consciousness where you learnt that, oh, whoops, you'd fallen asleep.

The voices that came from the hallway were quickly shushed by Mark, who moved up from the sofa and you felt his legs disappear from underneath your feet.

“What’s – oh, she’s asleep,”

Your shoulder ached from lying on it weird.

The talking turned into whispers and was followed by footsteps that moved into the kitchen. When you looked with a squinty eye, you saw the TV was still on, but had been muted.

You'd had dinner over at Mark's, and Poppy had gone out with Joe. That was always the way it was; you and Mark were people who stayed in wearing comfy outfits, had simple meals and enjoyed shitty TV together. Poppy and Joe would go out in shiny outfits to shiny restaurants where they had shiny meals, you were sure.

No drinks after, though. Not tonight. Tomorrow she had her appointment at a wedding boutique, and you'd been invited to come along as well. You and Poppy were friends, after all, and she valued your opinion when it came to wedding dresses over Joe's anyway.

It was dark out, and you tried remembering if it had already been dark before you'd drifted off as you stretched your arms up over your head.

You were so toasty warm underneath the throw blanket, you groaned at the prospect of having to put your shoes back on and go outside for the trek home.

A sudden noise jump-scared you, and you were quick to pull in both arms close to your chest as your head snapped to where it came from.

Joe was stood in the doorway.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,"

"Oh my God," you spoke on an exhale, rubbed your face with both hands, and mentally cursed Joe for shocking you awake like he had.

Had he been stood there the whole time?

"Good morning?" you could hear him suppress a laugh, making fun of you as you sat up. Hair everywhere, sleep in your eyes and muscles all achy.

"It's night time," you corrected him dryly, not in the mood to play.

"Correction, it's not even 9, the evening's barely started."

Oh.

It felt like it was past midnight. But you shrugged, because it didn't really matter, and reached for one of your shoes that you pulled out from underneath the coffee table.

"Won't you... won't you have trouble getting to sleep later? Now that you've slept already?"

You frowned. Why was Joe trying to have a chat with you? Could he not go join Mark and Poppy in the kitchen and let you come back into your own body in some peace and quiet?

"I'll be fine," you pushed a foot into your second shoe. "I love a good nap."

A silence fell, and when you'd tied your shoe laces, you slapped your knees and took a deep breath. You looked at Joe who was still awkwardly hovering in the doorway, feet on the threshold, and you looked at him as if to ask, what do you want?

"Um, we... we came up with an idea," Joe started, scratching the back of his head.

"Small change of plans. We're turning the bridal shower into a wedding shower,"

You were glad that this was wedding-related, because it immediately normalised the conversation Joe was trying to have with you. You took a second to think it over, and then smiled an impressed smile at Joe.

"Well done," you nodded at him with your eyebrows raised. "Isn't that just a regular party, then?"

"Yea," Joe shrugged a little bashfully. "Pre-wedding party, everyone's invited, not just Poppy's guests,"

And no playing stupid bridal shower games, or stupid bridal shower activities... you were onto Joe. It was very clear that this was a way to minimize his workload and instead, just... drink.

Honestly, you didn't mind it.

"We thought it'd be nicer that way. Get everyone excited for the wedding,"

"No, yea... you're right. It probably will be nicer to have a normal party instead of playing the newly wed game, or some wild form of mad lips with their vows, or whatever,"

"Loo roll bride," Joe added.

"We could still do that, park Pop in the middle of the dance floor and dance around to wrap her up," you quipped, and got a huffed laugh out of Joe.

It was almost normal, until Joe's head turned and Mark's voice got into earshot. Joe immediately tensed up, you could see it in his shoulders, and you didn't understand why it offended you the way it did.

"Brilliant idea! We've managed to find a date that works for us," Mark said, revealing what they'd been up to, and it prompted Joe to step away to go and find Poppy.

Mark looked at you and turned on the ceiling light, washing the room in bright white. It made you flinch a little.

"Hey, twitchy-feet, you slept for nearly two hours,"

"I feel very well rested," you said, grinning at the nickname and getting up from the sofa.

"Kicked me several times,"

"You can take it,"

Finding your coat over the back of a chair, you slung it 'round and stuck one arm in after the other.

"You ready for tomorrow?" you called out loudly, and waited for a response from the kitchen.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Poppy called back.

"I was born ready," you grinned.

"No, you weren't," Mark said softly so only you could hear. "You were born five weeks premature, you–" you punched him in the arm as you stepped past him into the hallway.

"I'm so ready, I'll bring all of my opinions," you joked when you saw Poppy walk over, followed closely behind by Joe.

"Good, I'm going to need them."

"I'll bring mine too," Joe said, but earned an immediate scoff from his friend.

"No, leave those at home, you're just there for moral support. You need to tell me I look pretty in everything, and then I'll let the women be honest with me," Poppy said and you saw how they made eye-contact for a second.

It was wild how they looked in love when they locked eyes like that.

You snuck a quick glance at Mark to see if he noticed anything, but he had his phone out and you saw he had his agenda open, busy putting in when the wedding shower would be.

"I'm heading out," you broke their stare and all eyes turned to you.

"Me too," Joe said, and that immediately shot panic into your veins. You didn't need Joe walking you home again.

"Actually," Mark said, "I could use your help with something," And with a hand on his shoulder, Mark turned Joe back towards the kitchen.

"Bye," you called, and Mark waved a hand over his shoulder without looking back.

You didn't know if your face had given you away, if you'd been obvious about it, or if Mark had just sensed it within you, but you were grateful. Grateful you got to slip out of the house by yourself, void of any awkward embarrassing interaction with Joe. Just a small tiny wave for Poppy that got a bright smile of hers in return, and the door shut behind you.

Nice.

You could save all the tension for the next day. You just hoped it wouldn't get too weird. Tomorrow was going to be all about Poppy, anyhow. There wasn't going to be any room for Joe to be distant and weird with you.

At least, that's what you thought.

The next day, you all met up outside the boutique. Poppy, her mother, her auntie who doubled up as her godmother, and her daughter, Poppy's favourite cousin. And Joe. Of course, Joe was there too.

The six of you were sat down on one large sofa, everything pristine white, very clean, and obviously very expensive. You didn't sit next to Joe, even though out of everyone in Poppy's entourage you knew him best. It just, it was a little weird. In this group, you had known Poppy the shortest, and were only her friend by association. Originally, anyway.

After introductions to the bridal consultant of who you all were to Poppy, Poppy got whisked off fairly quickly to have a look at some dresses and to immediately try the first one on.

Waiting whilst she got dressed took ages.

Poppy's aunt and cousin took the time to look at dresses in the storefront, to see if they could find ones they thought would look good on Poppy. Joe buried himself in his phone, which was interesting, because you knew he wasn't on social media, so what the fuck was he even doing? Playing games?

It left you and Poppy's mum to talk.

"I've always wondered," she said, kind eyes all crinkled as she smiled at you.

"Of course we know Joe," she turned and curled a hand around his wrist. Joe smiled at her for a second, far more comfortable around her than you were. Which, yea, made sense. She might as well have been his mother.

"And we know Mark, but we don't really know you, do we? I've never heard how you and Mark became such close friends,"

Oh God.

This definitely felt like a protective mother making sure her daughter wasn't going to marry an unreliable man. One who didn't secretly have a girl on the side. One that didn't hide his mistress in plain sight.

You kind of understood, though. This all came from a good place, even if you could see that the smile you got from her was now very obviously a fake one. Or, perhaps not fake, but definitely wary.

Then you saw Joe put his phone down and direct his attention to you as well. A strange grin took over his face.

He scooted his hips forward a little, getting more comfortable as his legs spread wider. He was ready to listen to a story.

"Oh, well," you waved a hand, making it seem like you and Mark were surface level mates. "Nothing crazy, we just met at school and became fast friends."

It wasn't a direct lie. Not really.

It just wasn't an answer to the question she asked.

Joe narrowed his eyes at you and then frowned a little.

"You and Poppy met at school, didn't you?" Poppy's mum turned back to Joe, who immediately smiled at her and nodded. "Year 4," Joe added, and it was wild to see how fond she was of him.

Poster boy Joseph.

Probably the perfect son-in-law in her eyes. You wondered how much she despised that Joe wasn't the one marrying her daughter. How much she wanted Joe to be a true part of her family.

Instead she'd gotten Mark. And Mark came with an attachment.

You.

"Mark and I met when I was 14, and, you know him," you said, unsure if she actually did. "One big, kind softie."

The two of you laughed. Bonded over the fact that Mark was hardly soft - he could easily intimidate with just a simple look. He could be soft, sure. But he didn't look it.

Not the way that Joe looked soft, you thought.

The bridal consultant walked out and called everyone back to the sofa. Poppy was about to walk out in the first wedding dress she'd ever put on her body.

This was a big moment.

With everyone in position, Poppy got introduced all officially, and then she stepped out, dressed in an awful looking huge pile of tule that engulfed all of her. Absolutely ate her alive. She looked excited, but very self-conscious.

Her mother clapped in her hands excitedly and was already close to tears.

You looked at Joe who, Jesus Christ, looked absolutely smitten.

What was fucking wrong with him?

Poppy's aunt and cousin had huge big smiles on their faces and, oh my God, were you going to be the only one to tell her that you didn't like the dress on her at all?

Poppy got placed in front of a mirror and took a good look before she turned to face all of you.

"And?" Poppy questioned, eyes hopeful but terrified.

Her mother burst into tears.

Oh shit.

Joe immediately handed over a tissue from a box next to him.

"You look gorgeous," he said as he comforted Poppy's mum.

And she did look gorgeous. That wasn't the issue here.

Poppy got praised left right and centre, and you paid close attention to her face. For a moment you thought you weren't going to be able to give your honest opinion, because you saw her bloom, thriving on the kind words she was receiving from everyone.

However, when the consultant asked Poppy what she thought of it herself, Poppy turned back to look at herself in the mirror and hesitated.

Thank fuck.

Poppy made eye-contact with you in the mirror and gave you a questioning look.

"Pop, you look fantastic in white. Most beautiful bride. I'm being honest. Your skin looks like it's glowing, it's gorgeous... but, babe," you bit your lips into your mouth for a second, and considered the reaction you were going to get from the rest of the sofa.

"This dress looks awful,"

You saw heads snap towards you from your peripheral vision. You kept your eyes trained on Pop. Kind eyes. Real sympathetic ones.

The air was tense and you all waited for Poppy's reaction.

"I know," Poppy replied before she burst into laughter.

You could practically feel the whole sofa relax.

"It's not really your style, is it?" Poppy's cousin added.

"Far too cupcakey," Poppy said and scrunched up her nose as she picked at some tule and faffed with it to show what she meant.

"All right, less cupcakey, got it," the bridal consultant smiled.

The tone had been set. Good. You were glad. If everyone was just going to tell Poppy she looked great in every single dress, this whole appointment would be useless.

There was some more back and forth, people mentioning what they did like about the dress she was in, people adding how maybe this or that change would make it be more Poppy, and when Poppy disappeared into the dressing room to try on another dress, her mother reached a hand that grabbed onto your knee for a second.

"Thank you," this time you could see that her smile was sincere. "She deserves good friends like you."

You looked at Joe and couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. You were getting praised for being a good mate when Poppy's literal platonic soulmate was sat on the other side of her.

Joe eyes darted and only landed on you for a second.

Big cringe.

"Poppy deserves the world," you agreed. "And a beautiful dress," the cousin added, to which you all hummed and nodded. She really did.

Poppy tried on a few more dresses before she stepped out and was already in tears herself.

This was it.

It was the one.

Poppy knew it was the one, she could feel it in her bones and it radiated off of her.

She looked stunning.

Like, seriously stunning.

Mark was really fucking lucky.

It only took one look for her mother to start crying again, and before long, it was just you, Joe and the consultant with dry faces. Everyone else had tears streaming down.

"That's it," you said, and Poppy nodded with a shaky inhale and a wobbly smile. "That's the dress."

Her mother absolutely broke down then, and stood up to hug the girl in the beautiful white gown. It got quickly followed by her aunt who was trying her hardest not to let her mascara run, and Joe was just handing out tissues all 'round like his life depended on it.

He passed you one, which you took, but then held up questioningly.

"You're supposed to cry," Joe spoke out of the side of his mouth, his face in a faux panic over the fact that you weren't. He waved a hand in a small circle that was meant to say, hurry up with those tears, and it made you roll your eyes at him.

You stuck the tissue into your pocket and looked at the ladies stood by the mirrors.

This felt like a moment.

One you weren't part of. You weren't family, and you got the strong sense you were intruding.

The bridal consultant stepped back past the curtains that lead to the dressing room, and you thought she must have been thinking the same thing.

When Poppy's mother started talking about Poppy's birth, reminiscing about her sweet little baby girl, you knew you were right. Time to give them some space. You got up, excused yourself to Poppy's cousin who seemed to be drowning in self-pity over being single more than anything else, and escaped into the front of the store.

For a second you thought you could just busy yourself, looking through dresses, or whatever, but when you saw the door, some fresh air sounded divine.

It was nice out. Sunny. Slight breeze. Not very warm yet, but, the sun on your skin was bright enough to warm it.

You checked the time, and upon seeing how much time had already passed, you realised you were actually quite hungry. How bad would it be if you darted off get your hands on some food?

You didn't get to think about it long.

The door to the wedding boutique opened, and Joe stepped out.

Thinking that he'd been sent out to come and get you, you were about to tell him that you were just getting some fresh air and would be back inside in a minute. But then, Joe revealed a packet of cigarettes from a pocket and you realised he was joining you out on the pavement.

"Got a bit too emosh in there?" you asked.

Joe nodded as he took his first drag. A good, long one. He seemed insanely uncomfortable.

"I know it's a whole thing," Joe waved his hand around and made a stupid face. "But, fuck me, over five thousand pounds for a dress?"

Jesus fucking Christ.

Of course the dress Poppy was going to get was over five thousand pounds. Of fucking course.

Joe shook his head, and even though you agreed, you thought you had a little case of a pot calling a kettle black on your hands here. Joe looked like he was wearing designer pieces exclusively. He probably had gotten a lot of it for free, but retail value would easily be a couple thousand.

So, you wanted to defend Poppy a little.

"If she loves it, she loves it," you shrugged.

"Yea, no, of course,"

"And she looks great,"

"She does."

Joe was quick to just go along with you. Didn't want to ruffle any feathers. He was but a man, one who didn't really get it, but the ladies inside were really going through something together, and when Joe saw you sneak away, he'd followed your lead and had done the same.

"Poppy's got nice family,"

You'd only briefly seen her mother once, but had never actually spoken to her before. Her aunt and cousin were completely strangers to you, but they honestly did seem lovely.

"She does," Joe said, and he let another silence follow as he looked down the street, away from you.

Jeez, Joe. Come on, put some effort in.

"Though her mother definitely doesn't trust me," you couldn't help the slight chuckle at yourself.

Joe's eyes found yours, and he huffed a laugh as he exhaled thick white smoke that immediately blew upwards.

"Nah," he started, "She's all right,"

You looked down at your feet a moment.

"It didn't help that you pretended you barely even know Mark at all," Joe reminded you, and you looked up at him, about to share that she did say that Poppy deserved friends like you, but something about the way Joe was looking at you made the words linger in your lungs.

"What was that about?"

In all the years that you and Joe had avoided conversations like these, suddenly, it felt like the most natural thing between you.

To be talking about your friends like this.

You wondered what changed.

"I... I could tell you, but, I need to warn you. I might cry."

Joe didn't say anything. Just smoked.

"Is being in the vicinity of four crying women not enough?"

It was meant as a joke, but you knew that even just thinking about the start of your friendship with Mark could make your throat hurt.

"No? Need one more?"

You hid your smile badly, but you poked Joe right where it hurt. Joe thought he'd said something wrong and immediately backed off. You thought he either didn't get social cues, just in general, or that maybe you'd been right before, and Joe really didn't actually like you. He'd just tried to be nice for Poppy's sake.

You couldn't even be mad. That just made him a good friend. It just sucked that you had to bear the brunt of it.

But you were kind, remember? So after a short moment of silence, you decided to just tell him anyway.

"When I was 14, my, um... experience, with boys, and honestly, too many adult men, was very..."

You forgot that having to tell him meant you had to say the actual words. Verbalise them. Speak them into the air, just... outside, where you were stood on the pavement, for strangers to hear. For Joe to hear.

"How can I put this without it sounding too dramatic... basically, any time a boy was friendly to me, and I thought I'd made a friend, it was... it was never just friendly. There was always a point where suddenly, they wanted to put their sweaty little teenage hands in... places,"

Oh God, you couldn't look Joe in the eye for this.

"And I don't know, it just... if every time you think you've made a friend you end up finding out that they aren't actually a friend, it um... fucked me up, a little bit,"

You were going to brush over the adult men you mentioned.

"Not to mention the way that you'd then get treated after when you'd kindly say, no thanks, I'd like us to remain friends, please,"

You recalled the way they'd speak to you. Would look at you. Like you'd personally done them a great disservice. Like not letting them touch your tits was the most vile thing you could've ever done to them.

"Adult men?"

Fuck.

Joe's voice couldn't sound smaller if he'd tried.

"Yea, you know... just," you shrugged. Eyes down. This was just what things were like. "Teachers who would squeeze your shoulder for a second too long when they'd reassure you that you really were a beautiful young girl, or, my dad's coworkers that would comment on them being disappointed I wouldn't be in my schooluniform if they'd visit on the weekends,"

"Fucking hell,"

"It's whatever," you kick stomped a foot into the pavement. "It's not like I was molested or anything,"

Joe didn't say anything.

"But so, I'd turned down one of Mark's classmates who couldn't really deal with that and tried to spread rumours, you know, just... teenage boy behaviour, no offence,"

Joe thought back to his own teenage years. Of classmates calling girls lesbians because they avoided kissing them at a park gathering over the weekend. Or them calling girls slags for the exact same reason.

"Mark just... Mark decided to become my friend, and then, actually became my friend. It took me ages to trust that he wouldn't one day try to roll onto me to make out. I just... I kept waiting for him to make a move and the longer it took, the more I knew the world would burn when he eventually would–"

"Pocket," Joe suddenly said.

"Huh?"

"You've got... the tissue I gave you, you put it in your pocket,"

Oh shit. You were crying. A stupid laugh escaped you and you were quick to find the crumpled up piece of tissue.

"I'm all right, honestly," you said, unable to not laugh at yourself. "It's just... it's dumb how much it meant for me to find a friend who wasn't romantically interested in the slightest,"

"I don't think that's dumb,"

Joe looked at you with impossibly big, rounded eyes. All full of things like... empathy, and softness. Zero judgment.

"Well. It is." You concluded. Last thing you needed was for Joe to feel sorry for you.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think that being betrayed and backstabbed a lot as a young girl means that– like, obviously that does– that's not, it's not dumb,"

Joe was going to have to stop talking if he didn't want you to break down right in front of him.

"It's– I think it's profoundly human that those type of things have an impact. Things like that leave marks, don't they?"

The sob that wretched itself from you was the worst thing your body had ever done to you in public. In front of Joe, no less.

It made you duck into yourself, and Joe's arms were around you in an instant. You imagined that Joe hugging you would be arms barely there. Body held back. Just, soft pats on a shoulder blade for just a second.

But it was none of that.

Joe's arms held a lot of strength. Squeezed your ribs tightly. Compressed you. A large palm covered the entire back of your head as he pressed it into the space below his chin.

It somehow eased everything immediately.

Joe smelled nice.

Was warm.

"It's not dumb," Joe started, his voice all soft and velvety. "You're–" but then a loud knock on glass interrupted him and made the two of you turn your heads to see Poppy stood in front of the window. Crying.

The two of you looked at each other, and Poppy's face only scrunched up more at the sight of you.

"Look at her," you said to Joe as he let you go and you didn't even wait for him to finish was he was about to say to you. You rushed inside where Poppy and you fell into a massive hug.

"Are you all right?" she hiccuped through a whisper.

"I am," you smiled over her shoulder. "You just look so very beautiful, it's hard to bear,"

You got a wet laugh out of her before you pulled back.

"This is what you're going to be wearing, right?"

"This is the one," Poppy beamed, and the urge to hug her close overtook again.

By now Joe had made it inside, and you could see him look at the two of you from the side.

"Your wedding is going to be so gorgeous, you have no idea. I can't fucking wait," you said, and Poppy's grip around your neck tightened in excitement.

"It'll be the best day," you continued. "The weather will be lovely, and everyone you love is going to be there to witness you and Mark, saying yes to each other. It'll be beautiful, everyone will be so happy. Good vibes only."

"Don't," Poppy sniffled. "Please don't lose the rings,"

You immediately dropped your shoulders, and a few steps away, Joe let out a loud belly laugh.

You were quick to flip him off behind Poppy's back before pulling back out of Poppy's embrace. Your middle finger aimed at him only made Joe laugh louder.

"Of course I won't," you smiled sweetly at her.

"Trust me. I won't."

—

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[sciencebecameouraddiction]

I have a Hazbin Hotel request :} pretty please

What about Sir Pentious x gn reader (platonic or romantic idc) where they're both rivals and fighting, but somehow find out that they've both ended up in the Hazbin Hotel at the same time...

omg! yes! i feel like i hardly ever see sir pentious stuff and he is so sweet. he definitely deserves more love and i hope i did this justice!

rating: PG

genre: fluffy-ish (just some bants and not really angsty)

characters: Sir Pentious x Reader (platonic but could be seen as a prelude to romance)

warnings: talk of turf wars, and use of the word fuck

You had finally gained ground on the terf war that was happening when Sir Pentious finally left, claiming he had a bigger and stronger enemy to lay siege to.

Your eyes rolled at that, but it wasn’t long until you were overwhelmed when a new team came in and wiped the area. You knew when to cut your losses so you left, angry that you had to retreat and loose that footing. You shook your head relaizing you didn’t have a place to sleep or anything when you passed by a store playing the radio and an ad came on talking about the Hazbin Hotel.

‘It’s not too far from here.’ You thought and started heading that way. It’s not like you bought into the whole redemption idea, but if it got you a bed for a while, what the hell. You finally come up to the door and knock. Surprised when the Radio Demon opens the door.

“A new patron, I assume?” He says.

“Ummm, yes?” You say, phrasing it more of a question. He lets you in and who you find out to be Charlie Morningstar bounds up to you and starts to get you checked in. You finally have your key and walk over to the bar, asking for a whiskey, neat, when you hear a gasp.

“My greatest foe! Has come to find me here. You wish to try and best me again in Battle!” You look straight ahead, not believing this.

“You have to be joking. You’re here too?” You ask as Husk slides you your drink.

“I am! You must have been searching for me I imagine! But I must disappoint you, I no longer do battle! My combat days are behind me, for I’ve turned over a new leaf.” Pentious explains.

“Well, it’s not like your villainy career was really workin’ out for ya Pents.” You say and sip your drink. “I can see why you’d retire old man.” You taunt him.

“I am not old! I think I am just two years older than you!” He exclaims, actually looking offended.

“2 years, 2 hours, 2 minutes… Still older. And since you are older, you could never beat me in combat so, I guess age isn’t everything is it snakey?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“Oh if I had my death ray right now…” Pentious says, absolutely seething.

“You’d what? Have it break down in the middle of the field and scream as others come at you with knives?” You say, referencing one time when Pentious’s invention failed on the field and it ended up in a disaster for him.

“IT WAS ONE TIME!” He exclaims.

“It only took one time too and I was able to claim that territory for myself.” You say smug.

“Where’s your territory now, hmmm? You wouldn’t be here if you had won.” Pentious says, sliding up to the bar, smirking.

“Fuck you.” You glare at him.

“I win!” He exclaims as he leaves, calling for his eggs so they may go to sleep.

“Good night to everyone except my mortal enemy, Y/N. I hope you DON’T have a good night.” He says at the top of the stairs.

“Oh, go fuck yourself!” You yell. Angel hears and adds on, “That the only action he’d be able to get!”

“Cheers to that!” You hold your cup up to Angel.

Charlie and Vaggie look at each other. “I think tomorrow may need to have two lessons on building friendships and talking to each other nicely.” Charlie says.

“Maybe throw in a ‘how to be friends when we were enemies in a turf war’ too.” Vaggie adds. Watching the lobby and taking in all the patrons.

“We have a lot of work to do then!” Charlie says dragging Vaggie to the board to plan out the next days activities with their new guest.

[overtaken-stream]

hello!! are the requests still open? may i have some headcanons about rukawa dating sakuragi's sister? maybe sakuragi would act overprotective of her?? thank you so much!!

This is such a silly idea and I love it.

``Out of everybody, why him?!```

The very first words he said to you after you casually let it slip that you are going on a date with Rukawa.

Hanamichi is overprotective of your feelings, he always has been involved in your business, even before adopting the delinquent lifestyle. After that, he had to enforce some rules around a few territories with his physic. this action did gain him a few grudges, none of the opponents planned on getting their teeth shattered again. It's safe to say he was more than interested in the events happening in your life, including your love life, which was especially annoying. Hanamichi doesn't feel a twisted jealousy like depicted in some animes, nor does he think you're his innocent, adorable sister who is helpless. Quite the opposite—he has seen you throw some mean "playful" punches and Indian/Chinese burns, which left his skin more vibrant red than a tomato. It's impressive, considering that not many of his enemies' hits manage to last as long as injuries caused by you do.

He tries to not meddle in your taste in men or what you're up too when you're alone. Hanamichi doesn't care as long as he or whoever the person would be is treat you right.

The root of his interest is curiosity,, he doesn’t know when to keep his nose out of your business, which causes a few quarrels between the two of you.

The problem arises when Rukawa involves himself with you. Hanamichi has seen how Rukawa treats women, especially those who are interested in him, which is why he might seem overprotective when all three of you are in the same room. In reality, he's just worried about your heart getting broken.

Rukawa, on the other hand, quietly celebrates his victory over Sakuragi, aware that Sakuragi can't interfere with his relationship with you. He finds it odd that Sakuragi is your brother, not because you share similar features, but in a way that is indescribable.

It also helps that your relationship changes the dynamic between the two boys. It’s not a noticeable change in their behavior toward each other, because you’re still forced into the role of a mediator when Kaede visits, however they do try to not physically fight and compete in front of you.

When Hanamichi realizes that Rukawa is serious about your relationship, his mind will be put at ease. Perhaps he’ll see both of you taking naps together, and it will all click into place, or he will witness Rukawa's efforts to contribute to the relationship, like sneakily trying to deceive Sakuragi into sharing facts about you that only he knows (aside from your friends), like what are your favorite foods and sweets?

Hanamichi doesn't care to give an approval because he believes that it is not needed and you can make your own decisions without his intervention and Rukawa tries extra hard to embarass Hanamichi in front of you if you happen to be in the gym when they're practicing.

On the surface nothing changes between them, except maybe they try to avoid throwing punches at each other's face. Only the face is prohibited... They don't want you to be mad at them...

[hana-no-seiiki]

a/n: first full genshin fic in tumblr let’s go.

we’ve had god readers but what about god complex reader who’s a smartass.

without further ado i present to you the flowers of evil au! (which i will actually explain more in another post but for now have this)

divider by omiyours!

no beta read we die like rukkhadevata’s god friends

summary: reader is basically wanderer but a slut

cw/tw: self indulgent, wish fulfillment, manipulative! reader, asshat/arrogant! reader, implied noncon (reader gets drunk), alhaitham being incredibly horny, alhaitham being a homewrecker, kaveh doesn’t have any self esteem, very snobby ass intellectualism, mary sue/gary stu reader.

pairings: yandere! al-haitham x spy! reader x yandere! kaveh x ? ? ?

“RED ROSES BURN MY EYES”

V O L U M E ( I )

[Y/N] [L/N] is the epitome of perfection. Even amongst the scholars that excelled in their fields, and the sages that basically ruled over the Akademiya. [Y/N] always managed to stand out.

Part of that is what attracted Al-Haitham. They were intelligent, and quick-witted. He found himself effortlessly engaging in conversation for hours when it came to their banters. Everything he was looking for in a partner — both in academics, romantic and sexual side of things — could be found in [Y/N].

But there were two things he had to consider.

The first thing was their awful(ly hot) god complex.

“Told you I’d be correct.” [Y/N] sat atop his desk. Their legs crossed, practically begging to be ripped apart as the scribe fantasized of bending them over the nth time that day.

Their intoxicatingly sweet yet mature scent — of roses and old books — wafted through the air and into his nostrils. It took all he had to not pin them on his table so that he could breathe it in. He wanted their scent to be permanently ingrained within his mind like the languages and manuscripts he’d memorized to heart.

But alas he had to at least maintain a modicum of sanity and control over his hormones. He replied, trying to edge away from their form, “You don’t have to rub it in my face, [L/N].”

But it was getting rather hard when they began leaning over “Fair is fair, Scribe. You get to gloat when you win, and I as well during the many triumphs I have over you. So, what are you supposed to say in this situation?”

“I was wrong to go against your judgement.”

You poke his nose. A mocking grin on your disgustingly pretty features, “I knew you had it in you.”

He could tolerate the first thing. In fact, he found it attractive at times. It’s what attracted him to the idea of dating them; owning them, the desire to rip that smug look on their face. To make their face contort to that of unfettered desire. To bring them down and off their high horse and instead kneeling — yearning for his touch, his lips, his cock.

The second thing was the fact that they were dating his roommate. That darned Kaveh.

“My love.” Al-Haitham could swear Kaveh smirked at him as the latter mouthed his petname for you.

“You’re late.”

“They’re sending me away for a project.”

“What?” Oh, [Y/N]’s concerned face however? Hurt even more. The palpable love between the couple made him want crush the book within his hands and throw its remains across the library. He’d tell you two to get a room if he didn’t want eyes on you 24/7.

“It’s just another construction. I’ll be back soon.”

“Stay safe.”

Al-Haitham couldn’t help but stare at your back while the two of you left him alone.

Was that a smile - no - a smirk on your features?

It was a mistake on your part. You should have known not to get drunk on enemy territory.

But your one success as a spy finally came. You had to celebrate somehow, right?

Wrong.

In your mistake in judgement you found yourself tangled with Al-Haitham of all people. How’d he even get drunk enough to sleep with you anyways? He couldn’t have purposely have sex with you, could he? All your interactions have been those of rivals and friends at most.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“We’re adults [L/N]. You don’t have to act like this.” Stop acting like this. Al-Haitham wanted to scream. He couldn’t take it anymore. He missed your presence so dearly. If only you could see the mess that had been his room and office.

“Exactly. Adults. I can make my own choices and I choose not to interact with you. I’m doing this for the sake of staying civil. For Kaveh.”

“I’ll tell him about your lord.” You paused.

No, you couldn’t have. Your [e/c] orbs slowly turned a velvet red while he continued his speech. Were you that careless? Were the words your co-workers used to describe you true?

That you were an absolutely useless, reckless piece of rot?

“The way you screamed his name while I—“

His? Ah, so he didn’t know their name. You probably just screamed My Lord and he automatically assumed…

He’s bluffing.

“Then go ahead.” You couldn’t help but grin knowing that you finally didn’t mess up in a mission. So what if he said those words to Kaveh, your mission to distract the Light of Kshahrewar had been a success. All you needed was to leave once everything had been finalized and your god had been reborn. “This may not be Focalors’s nation, but this sort of conduct could get you in jail, Scibe.”

“By who? Cyno hates me, sure. But if there’s one person he loathes more than me it’s you.”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“No, [Y/N]. We’ll talk about this now.”

“Why are you so persistent—“

“Because I love you!”

Al-Haitham grabbed unto your face, squeezing so tightly you knew it’d bruise, “I think about you every single day, hour, minute — every damn second even. I can’t get a single paper fully transcribed because I always end up writing your name over and over again as if I’ll forget it any second.”

“That’s impossible. You can’t love me. No. That isn’t supposed to happen.”

“[L/N]. I know you’re a skeptic but doubting my feelings is—“

“You were never my target.”

Al-Haitham gasped as red petals enveloped his entire body.

“My lord. May you forgive this forsaken soul. Grant this servant a place beside your holy being as you ascend—“

His throat, his nose, even his eyes — all burnt under the heavy scent of roses.

“and accept this sacrifice.”

You looked at him solemnly. If only you weren’t so incompetent, he wouldn’t have been roped into this.

Your time with the roommates was fun while it lasted.

“Oh Lord of Flowers.”

[FOOTNOTE:]

In the end, [Y/N] could not kill him. It was always like this. Their missions always went wrong. It’s anyone guess really — why they haven’t been thrown away by their lord. They were defective at best. Completely useless at worst.

So they were commanded to be a honey trap. Someone made to lure in and distract an assigned target while the rest of the Zuhur, came in to assassinate and/or thieve around.

“Kaveh.” You greeted. Shit, you shouldn’t have gone back to his place to check for lose ends. Wasn’t he supposed to be away anyhow? What was he doing in the Akademiya?

“Where are you going?”

“I—I’m leaving.” You had recently finished drugging Al-Haitham and sending him to the sages to deal with. Time was ticking, and you had to be there for when your new master breathes his first as a brand new god. “to get some samples for research. Meet up with the Forest Rangers and all that.”

“Does lying to me get you off or something?” Kaveh stopped you in your tracks, he didn’t have to hold you still, the hurt in his voice was enough.“I know about it. About your affair with Haitham.”

“Then—“

“And I’m fine with it.”

“What?”

“You- You can meet up with him all you like. I already knew someone like me couldn’t possibly satisfy a being such as you.”

“Just don’t leave me ever. Please?”

“Kaveh . . .”

“I promise to never get between you guys. I swear I-I’m not jealous at all. You deserve to receive all the love you can get.”

“Kaveh!” You cried. Who was this person? The Kaveh you knew was loud and boisterous. In fact, you used him and Al-Haitham as a basis to create [Y/N]. The prodigy of the Akademiya.

Who was this weak, broken person that trembled in front of you.

“You deserve someone better than me, alright? Not the other way around.”

“What…?”

“Stay safe and get as far away as you can from the Grand Sage in the next few weeks alright?” You continued your journey away, only stopping to say a few words, “I love you. Truly.”

“If you love me, why would leave me?!”

“I have to.” You clenched your hands, and disappeared.

“(Wardati) وردتي … “

TRANSLATIONS:

flowers = zuhur

وردتي = my rose

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Chapter 9: Anatomy of Courage

Gale Cleven × Hope Armstrong (ofc)

Series Masterlist

This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.

Summary: After their plane crashes in enemy territory, the flight nurses must face the harsh truth of the German regime.

Collab: A Pair of Silver Wings by @major-mads

September 20th: 07:20AM

"We're going down and we gotta bail out, girls. Grab your chutes now!" Frank yelled, the veins in the pilot's arms bulging as he fought to keep the plane level. Hope remained frozen, staring at Billy's lifeless body... he was only twenty one years old.

"Hope?" Frank called out. "Hope, look at me! You've gotta go, get yourself and Ruth out, I'll keep the old girl steady until you're both out, then I'll be right behind ya."

Hope shook her head, tears building in her eyes, "No!, We're in this together! I'm not leaving you, not now. Not after everything!"

"For pete sake Hope, will you do as you're told for once and stop being so God damn stubborn," Frank snapped with his eyes still trained ahead, and Hope noticed how the veins on his temples pulsed angrily, and his face grew redder by the second. "Now, please just go, I'll be behind you, I promise!"

"Okay," Hope nodded solemnly, climbing from the copilot's seat and hurrying towards Ruth, who was already shakily trying to put on her parachute. Hope helped her do up the straps and buckles before she did the same with Hope.

"I can't do this. I only jumped once in training. I-I can't jump out of a plane. I'm a teacher, not a paratrooper. I-I..." Ruth continued to ramble, her panic-stricken features breaking Hope's heart, and her tears began to trickle down her cheeks. Hope grasped hold of Ruth's shoulders, pulling her shaking frame against her chest.

"It's going to be okay. We're gonna be just fine but we've got to do this. We can't stay here, Rue. I need you to be strong for me now, okay? I need you to be strong for both of us," Hope tried to encourage the girl towards the door but she froze, riveted to the plane.

"But Hope, we're over Germany. The-the Kraut's will get us and then...then I don't know what they'll do to us." Ruth's bottom lip began to tremble, her breath coming out in short, sharp gasps.

Hope nodded solemnly, "I know we are, Rue, but this is our only option. I promise you that I will be with you every step of the way, no matter what, okay?" Hope squeezed Ruth's hand and she returned the sentiment, allowing Hope to lead her towards the door.

Both girls hooked up to the static line, checking their equipment quickly. "Are you ready?"

Ruth nodded, swallowing the bile that threatened to creep up her throat as the plane shook violently beneath them.

"See you on the other side, Rue."

"See you in a minute," Ruth threw her arms around her friend, squeezing her tightly before stepping into the door, pausing for a moment before throwing herself out into the clouds. Hope watched as her static line unhooked and Ruth's parachute blew upon, billowing into the sky.

Hope turned to Frank, giving him one last longing look, she raised her hand to her forehead, saluting him. Frank's eyes creased at the corners as he gave her a small smile, nodding curtly in response. Hope moved to the door, feeling the harsh, bracing wind against her cheeks.

It was now or never.

Hope stepped one foot out of the plane, allowing gravity to pull her the rest of the way. The static line unhooked, creating a ricocheting effect and pulling her upwards by her chute before releasing her into the sky. She'd jumped from a plane before, having taken a training course run by some paratroopers prior to qualifying as a flight nurse, but nothing compared to this. She was dragged through the sky, spinning as she frantically tried to gain control of her parachute.

Looking up, she caught a glimpse of another parachute above her, thankful that Frank had managed to get out safely. 'The Angel' continued its descent through the clouds, swooping low over the farmland and disappearing behind a clump of trees in the distance before it exploded.

Boom!

The plane erupted into flames, the explosion searing the air and the surrounding earth. Large black clouds began rolling up from the scene, blowing like a giant beacon into the sky. It would send a smoke signal for miles and there was no way the Krauts would miss it.

Hope swallowed hard, thinking of what awaited them once they landed. At least up here, for a moment, they were safe. She'd heard of the pilots that had been shot down, none of them were seen again, and she wondered what fate would befall them on enemy territory.

She clung tightly to the risers, pulling them sharply as a strong gust of wind took her away from her desired drop zone which was a small clearing, and roughly in the direction she'd seen Ruth land in a patch of trees. She worried if she'd landed okay.

Hope had several more months of jump training than Ruth had, when Hope was training they had taken more time, and given more instructions, but when Ruth came to her training a few jumps and you were qualified.

The wind whipped harshly across Hope's cheeks, making her glad she'd worn her padded flying jacket on this flight. She was sometimes in the habit of leaving it back at The Grove, finding it was more a hindrance than a help at times, but something had made her bring it with her. She was thankful for that incline.

As the ground approached quickly, Hope braced herself for the impact, rolling with the parachute as she connected with the ground. It was a rough landing, rougher than any of her ones during training and her ribs felt grazed and bruised. Her back creaked, groaning as she stood, straightening herself out and ignoring the throbbing pain in her right arm. All in all the landing had been less than pleasant.

She gathered up the pale, silk fabric quickly, cutting the lines with her bandage scissors and stuffing it beneath the nearby hedge. The last thing she needed was a Kraut patrol stumbling upon it so soon, although seeing as 'The Angel' erupted into flames, it was only a matter of time before they came looking.

Through the tops of the trees, she could just make out another parachute descending. It's a white canvas billowing above the speck of a person. It must be Frank.

Hope scrambled through the trees, prickly branches and hawthorn bushes scratching at her skin and uniform. The parachute disappeared from view, crashing through the trees ahead. The ground was rough, tree roots littered the path and Hope found herself stumbling along like Hugh after a good night out.

A flash of white from the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she moved cautiously forward, watching her every step to avoid breaking twigs.

She called out softly, trying to catch Frank's attention without attracting anyone else. She knew they'd landed in Germany and from their last bearing they were just over the Maginot line into Germany. Hope had never dreamed of setting foot in occupied Germany, it was never a thought that had entered her mind but now they were truly here she could only fear the worst.

"Frank?" She hissed, watching as the white fabric on the ground stopped moving, followed by silence. "Frank?"

"Hope?" Came the reply, before Frank's head popped out from behind a tree, looking far more battered and bruised than when she'd last seen him. "Hope, that you?" His thick New Jersey accent was strained as he struggled to move further from his hiding place.

"Frank!" She rushed over to him, throwing herself into his arms, to which he squeezed her close to him, ignoring the way his ribs screamed in anguish. "Thank God you're okay, Frank."

From day one Frank had been there for her, encouraging her, teaching her, while she had also taught him. People say that you only have one soulmate in life and rightly so because her soulmate was Gale. Yet if it came down to platonic soulmates, well hers would be Frank. He was the older brother who'd stepped up when Hugh wasn't around, becoming her greatest friend.

Frank huffed, shifting painfully to sit up straight, leaning his back against the tree he'd fallen through. "Yeah, you can't get rid of me that easily, Armstrong," he chuckled, wincing.

"Where does it hurt?" Hope instinctively raised her hand, brushing her fingers gently over the deep abrasion on his forehead and the bruising around his left eye.

"It's mainly my ribs, took a good beating from that tree on the way down, and my chute got stuck in its damn branches." He pointed his thumb aggressively upwards, cursing the tree under his breath.

Hope lifted Frank's shirt gingerly, trying to hold in the gasp that formed on her lips when she noticed the deep purple that was already growing up on his right side. She traced her fingers over them slowly, watching as Frank sucked in a quick breath.

"Looks like you've broken a few ribs, Frank. I'm no doctor but that would be my guess," Hope glanced around, she still had her musette bag, but it held only limited supplies of small bandages and she needed something larger. Her eyes trailed over Frank's parachute and she shuffled forward, cutting a long, thick strip out of the material.

Frank eyed her suspiciously, "I know it's silk and all, Hope, but I don't think now is the time to be gathering fabric for your wedding dress."

She glared at him and he smiled weakly at her. He knew her dress was already finished, but in typical Frank fashion he wanted to make light of the situation. She pushed the image of her wedding dress from her mind. Now was not the time to be thinking of such things, and instead, her training kicked in and she began wrapping the rudimentary dressing supportively around his injured ribs.

Frank hissed and whined at the contact, trying to remain stoic but the pain was unbearable.

"I'm sorry Frank, but I've got to do this," Hope smiled sympathetically at her pilot, who only nodded in response, allowing her to finish her job.

Here," Hope motioned to the syrette of morphine from her musette bag, "This should help."

"No, no, Hope I'm fine, it's not that bad, and I don't want you wasting it on me," he pushed her hand away, levering himself against the tree to try and stand.

"Here, let me," Hope wrapped her arm around him, avoiding his ribs, and allowed Frank to lean his large frame against hers. It wasn't easy, trying to guide the tall man through the bushes, whilst trying to maintain a reasonably quick pace.

"Did you see where Ruth landed?" Frank asked quietly, looking over at Hope who chewed her bottom lip nervously.

"Roughly. It's in the group of trees ahead. I don't think she had a soft landing either."

Hope's mind couldn't think straight, couldn't concentrate without Ruth by her side. She was a constant throughout all the chaos and confusion of love and war. The sooner Ruth was back beside her, the sooner things would start to be a little bit better.

Frank's eyes darted back and forth, his body tense as his survival instinct began to work overtime. He knew that they were in Germany, they're plane going down and leaving a huge smoke signal meant that every Kraut from miles around would be looking for them. His priority now was keeping his girls safe, and busted ribs or not, that's what he intended to do.

They made their way further through the trees, following a slightly worn path. Normally, the first rule of landing in enemy territory would be to stay off any main roads or used paths, but in Frank's condition, Hope couldn't drag him through anymore thick bushes. The weight of him leaning against her already dragged her down, causing her aching body to slow.

She slowed a little more temporarily, listening to the rustling noise that...

Hope stopped dead in her tracks, the noise ahead of them causing both their hearts to quicken, as Frank looked down at Hope, their eyes meeting in silent fear. He pulled his pistol free from its holster, motioning for Hope to stay behind him. She linked her hand with his, allowing Frank to lead her towards the noise. She prayed that it was Ruth. Hope had to admit that she rarely prayed, unlike Ruth who took her faith very seriously, but Hope was praying now, praying that Ruth would be alright.

"Come out, nice and slow," Frank raised his gun at a small scrub of bushes, waiting for the occupier to vacate their hiding place. A pained whimper followed before a familiar nest of blonde curls came into view.

"Ruth!" Hope gasped, falling beside her friend and throwing her arms around her neck, squeezing her close. "You're okay."

"Hope," Ruth whispered in response, hugging her friend back the best she could with one arm, her left remaining close to her chest.

Hope hands fell instinctively to Ruth's injured arm, despite her friends small protest. She ran her fingers up and down the limb, noticing the evident swelling around the wrist and elbow joint. Rummaging in her musette bag, Hope pulled free some bandages, wrapping the affected limb tightly to provide some support and help reduce the swelling that was already growing along Ruth's arm.

Hope sat back on her feet, scanning the area for the blonde's parachute. Finding it a few feet away, she quickly grabbed it and pulled it over to the bush. She cut out a large triangle, folding it in half, and placing the injured limb inside of the makeshift sling. She worked swiftly, no words were exchanged between the three until Hope was finished.

"Are you alright? What happened?" Hope asked, tying the knot securely at the base of Ruth's neck. She cupped her friend's cheek tenderly, and relief flooded through her as those bright blue eyes she'd grown to love so much blinked tearily back at her. Other than her arm, along with numerous cuts and scrapes on her arms, face, and legs, Ruth was okay, to Hope's relief.

She was okay.

Ruth stood to her feet with a wince. "My chute got shot up and I-I hit the trees...fell on my arm," she paused, her voice dropping to a pained whisper as the mere thought of the crash brought the pain crashing over her again. "Hope, I think... I think it's broken."

"Yeah, at least fractured," Hope nodded with a concerned frown, wiping away some of the blood dripping from a cut on Ruth's temple. "When we-"

Before the nurse could continue, Frank's hand landed on her shoulder and his eyes scanned the forest around them. "I'm sorry, but we've gotta get going. The krauts are probably on their way as we speak."

Hope quickly stashed the parachute behind the bush and took her place under Frank's arm, allowing him to lean against her while Ruth watched with furrowed brows.

"What did you do?" she asked worriedly.

The pilot shot her a pained grin. "I'm alright," he gritted out as they started walking slowly. "Hope, we've gotta go faster. I don't care about my ribs. Let's go."

Picking up the pace, they made their way through the hilly forest, eyes scanning the surrounding trees. Frank and Hope led the way and he held his pistol at the ready, nothing but the quiet sounds of their footsteps in the air. Ruth trailed right behind them, no less than an arm's length away at all times. Her arm throbbed where it sat in the sling but she could only imagine the pain Frank was in. The nurses had seen a few grown men cry from the pain of a few broken ribs.

The sun sat high in the sky when they finally reached the forest's edge, and more rolling hills and patches of forest stretched on in the distance, the only building in sight a small house in a clearing ahead. Hope panted from under Frank's arm as the trio debated their next move.

"We can't go out into the open. They'll see us for sure," Hope whispered, gesturing with her free hand for Ruth to come up beside them.

When she only replied with a small gasp, Hope craned her head to look over her shoulder at the blonde, her heart dropping at the sight before her. Ruth stood a few feet away, her blue eyes wide and terror-filled as a German held a luger to her temple, his hand over her mouth. Three more krauts stood behind him with their rifles trained on the bruised and battered crew.

She met Ruth's terror-filled eyes and helplessness coursed through her. She opened her mouth to speak but the German beat her to it, his heavily accented voice harsh and guttural.

"Drop your weapon or I'll shoot," the soldier commanded, his words cutting through the silence of the forest.

Ignoring the pain in his torso, Frank spun around with his gun raised. His grip on the pistol tightened for a moment as his jaw clenched. With a gruff sigh, he slowly lowered the weapon to the ground, his eyes never leaving the soldier who held Ruth against his chest.

"Drop it!"

Tossing the pistol to the forest floor, Frank raised his hands to the best of his ability and Hope did the same, unable to tear her gaze away from Ruth's. Her eyes seemed to tell her friend, 'It's okay. Just look at me. You're alright.'

The three Krauts brushed past Ruth, making a beeline for Hope and Frank, and they began to roughly search the pair, rummaging inside their uniforms. Hope flinched as she felt the soldier behind her, feeling along her ribs and running his hand inside her overalls, fumbling in the pocket above her breast and pulling free the content. The photograph of Gale and her at Dye's 25th party fell free, fluttering to the ground where it came to rest. Gale's smiling face looked up at her and she had to fight the urge not to reach down for the picture. His letter soon followed suit, falling into the dirt.

The Krauts stripped them of everything they had, including pulling the silver chain from around Hope's neck that contained the ring Hugh had given her for her 18th and her engagement ring. Seeing her ring resting in the palm of one of the soldiers made her sick to her stomach. How could they just take their things like this? Hope wanted to fight back, wanted to protest but she couldn't find it in herself to drag her eyes away from the photograph. She watched one of the krauts pick it up, mumbling something to the other two before handing it off to the officer who remained at the back of the group. He smiled smugly, shoving it deep into his pocket. Would she get it back, she wondered? Would she ever see Gale's smiling face again? Ever be held in his arms? Ever kissed again?

"That's enough," Frank's voice rang out, his eyes blazing with anger. "She's not armed." Hope's head snapped up, her eyes instinctively meeting Ruth's who looked on the edge of tears.

The hands that had been roaming Ruth's body paused and the man stepped back, seemingly satisfied with the search. Hope resisted the urge to lurch forward and punch that satisfied smirk off his face, but it wouldn't do any of them any good. Ruth's shaky hand remained in the air. Hope watched as her face morphed into a horrified expression at the sight of the bright red swastika glaring back at them. Hope had seen pictures of the Nazi symbol in newspapers, but to see it up close and on the arm of a Nazi officer made everything they were fighting for seem even more important.

'We're fighting for those who cannot fight for themselves,' Hugh had always said and the phrase resonated with Hope more now than ever.

Hope was cut from thoughts of her brother when the officer spoke up, muttering harshly under his breath and motioning to his soldiers who stepped up. One of them reached out to Hope, grabbing harshly at her shoulder and shoving her forward. She tripped stumbling into Frank's back before steadying herself. Ruth fell in bedside her, sharing an anxious look before they began to move forward.

Two soldiers stood on either side of them with rifles drawn as the officer stood before the Americans, an unsettling smirk on his lips.

"For you, the war is over."

...............................................................................………

The cool morning breeze whipping through the torn canvas walls of the truck sent goosebumps across Ruth's body, and she tugged her flight jacket closer to her body. She sat between Frank and Hope, her good hand now securely in her best friend's. No words had been exchanged between the crew since they'd climbed in, and with the piercing eyes of three soldiers sitting across the truck from them, their rifles sitting on their laps, the Americans were terrified.

Exhaustion wore on them, but they could not sleep or close their eyes as adrenaline still coursed through their veins. The Germans had forced them through the dense, mountainous forest for half a mile before reaching a winding road among one of the hills where a troop transport truck awaited them.

Hope's body almost gave in as they climbed aboard the truck, her muscles aching after supporting Frank for so long. Ruth had tried to take her place multiple times but was waved off due to her injury. And that's where they found themselves, in the back of the truck driving through the German countryside.

The landscape was beautiful. Ruins of old castles atop mountaintops, picturesque villages, and lush green forests filled with tall spruces and pines caught the women's attention through the opening in the back of the truck. Frank could've cared less and stared straight ahead, trying to focus on breathing and pushing through the pain radiating from his ribs.

Before long, the truck rumbled to a stop and they all shared a worried glance when the officer appeared at the tailgate.

"Out."

Ruth carefully hopped out first, holding her throbbing arm tight against her chest while Hope helped Frank down. Their eyes widened in awe as they were met with a scene straight out of a storybook. If it weren't for the Nazis pushing them along the road and the rifles pointed at them, they could've been on vacation, sightseeing in the beautiful town before them.

The narrow cobblestone streets wound their way through a maze of old buildings, each one with intricate timber frames and colorful exteriors. Some even had window boxes overflowing with vibrant flowers, adding to the warmth and color of the village.

A rough voice broke them from their awestruck gaze, and the soldier behind Hope nudged her with his rifle. "Walk!"

As they marched through the town, bloodied and looking worse for wear, residents became aware of their presence and peered cautiously from the sides of the street. Shopkeepers paused in their tracks, their hands stilling in their work as they watched the prisoners pass. Hope and Ruth drew more than a few puzzled looks, and some townsfolk whispered among themselves with expressions mixed with confusion and concern.

"Frauen? Was machen die denn hier?" muttered a woman passing them on the road, her words carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. An elderly woman beside her shook her head, her wrinkled brow furrowed in disbelief.

The group continued through the village, and just ahead, a few children played in the street. A barely perceptible smile played on Ruth's lips as the kids' laughter echoed off the buildings. Hope couldn't help the weak smile she sent Ruth's way. The sound of children playing in a place like this seemed like such a foreign thought. It reminded her of the image of her future with Gale. She could see him now, cradling a baby in his arms while he ruffled the blonde lock of a toddler. Her eyes drifted to the children playing, envisioning their round, smiling faces but the mood quickly changed when the children turned to look at them with pure disdain on their features.

One of the boys' small hands formed into the shape of a gun and he pointed it straight at them. There was no playfulness in his gesture, no hint of amusement. Instead, his eyes contained a disturbing intensity as he mimicked the actions he had likely seen performed countless times by soldiers and adults around him.

Hope couldn't help but feel hatred towards the children's parents for turning them against the people who were trying to help, but she couldn't blame them. The air felt cold and stiff as she exchanged a glance with Ruth and they all recognized the chilling reality of the situation. This was not a child playing a game...this was a child who had been taught to see them as enemies, as symbols of everything that stood against the beliefs instilled in him by the governing regime.

Glancing around at the faces of the townspeople, Hope couldn't help but wonder how many others harbored similar sentiments. How many of them would kill them on the spot simply for the country they served, for the freedom they were trying to protect?

"I wonder where they're taking us," Hope whispered to Ruth.

The blonde bit her lip, her worried eyes flicking around them. "I don't kn-"

"Ruhig! No talking!" the guard behind Hope spat, shoving her forward roughly, making both her and Frank lose their balance and fall to the cobblestone street. The Captain fought to contain a groan as his knees collided with the stones, sending a shockwave of pain through his torso.

Hope scrambled quickly off of Frank's back, ignoring the agony she'd felt as her knee had connected with the cobbled street or the way the large abrasions on her hands seeped red blood to the surface. She pushed her hands beneath Frank's armpits helping to tug him to his feet but she couldn't support his weight.

"Help me," she pleaded, her dark eyes looking through tears at the soldiers who merely smirked. "HELP ME!" She cried. She'd seen Ruth dragged backwards in the corner of her eye and the pent-up rage was growing within her chest. Any second now...

She reached forward again, pulling Frank to his feet, mumbling soft apologies as he whined in protest, clutching his broken ribs. She turned to glare at the officer, resenting the way his lips curled up into a grin. How did he have the nerve to smile at them?

"Move!" One of the soldiers shoved the barrel of his MP40 into Hope's back, prodding her harshly, "Schnell."

Hope reached behind her, gripping Ruth's hand tightly and giving it one squeeze before releasing the blonde's shaky hand. The group moved forward in a single file line, careful as they stepped down the stone street. Their eyes glanced around at the German villagers watching them like hawks. One wrong move and the group knew that this town would be their final resting place.

The guards led them along the river, the water rushing passed loudly as it wound its way through the village. It was idyllic really but Hope couldn't bring herself to find any beauty in it, her mind too focused on the hatred in the child's eyes and the pain in her knee.

A large white building on their left caused Hope to pause, her eyes falling upon the painting on what looked like the town hall. There were four figures on the wall, two men on the outer edge and two in the middle. Hope's chest tightened as her eyes fell on the large red flag bearing the swastika, it seemed so out of place being painted so proudly for all to see.

"Move, bitch," one of the soldiers sneered, pushing the barrel of his gun into her back once more. Hope's jaw tightened, she knew resisting wasn't going to be good for any of them but she couldn't help the urge to slap that stupid smirk on his face. How did they have the nerve to treat officers in such a way, even if they were on opposing sides?

She turned on her heels just as Ruth caught her arm, sending her a pitiful look that instantly caused Hope to soften. She nodded once in a silent promise that she'd behave despite the anger rising within her. Frank nudged his shoulder into Hope, encouraging her to keep moving. It was a team effort for them all to survive, each having to bite their tongue and remain calm for their friends.

All too soon the trio were ushered into a large building beside the train track that they could only assume was the station.

Large letters hung above the door, the dark wood in contrast with the off-white stone of the building.

SCHILTACH

Hope couldn't help the anxiety that grew in her chest at the thought of climbing into the rail car.

How far would they be taken? Clearly they were being transported much deeper into German territory, which was not the news they'd been hoping for.

It was a rundown building with cracks streaking up the walls, and any recollection of its pre-war days had long been extinguished. The walk through the building was short, and the soldiers quickly filed them through a single door and out onto the platform where a cargo train was stationed. Several more German soldiers and officers lined the platform, two with Alsatian dogs on leads that somehow looked even more menacing than their handlers.

The officer that led them to the station stepped away, talking in hushed tones to another officer before nodding to his men. Frank was the first to be pushed forward, moving him towards one of the carriages, the door being slid open with a loud clang. The carriages were old, their outer wooden slats rotten and falling easily from their frames. They hardly looked worthy of a people who thought of themselves as the "superior race."

Frank glanced back at the girls before stepping inside, disappearing into the darkness. It occurred then to Ruth that this might be the last time they were all together. What happens if they get split up into different carriages or different trains? The thought of being all alone and without Hope and Frank filled Ruth with more anxiety, and she grasped Hope's arm.

On the other hand , Hope had never seen Frank not put up a fight. It was so unlike him to not even have a clever come back or to throw some sarcasm their way but he just disappeared. Hope worry grew regarding Frank's condition, clearly he was in far more pain than he was letting on.

The soldier behind Hope chuckled, leaning close to her ear and whispering, "You go next bitch." Hope's whole body tensed as she stepped forward, feeling the grip that Ruth had on her arm disappear. She couldn't see into the train carriage and stepped in blindly, fumbling around until her hands fell onto a warm chest that smelt like the all too familiar aftershave.

"I've got you, Hope," the strong New Jersey accent replied, cradling her close to him. Ruth soon appeared behind them, joining in on the group hug.

"We're gonna be alright," Frank assured them, rubbing their arms gently.

For some reason now that they were away from the prying eyes of the Germans they somehow felt safer, like they could breathe easily for a little while. The carriage door slammed shut, plunging them into darkness. It was then that Hope noticed the smell, a strong stench of stale urine mixed with sweat and vomit filled her nostrils, turning her stomach as she fought to keep her breakfast down. Who knew when she would eat that well again?

The floor was damp beneath their feet and she could only imagine what they were walking on. It was best not to know.

The trio settled down in the corner of the train where a small beam of light pierced through the darkness, illuminating just a small amount of the cramped quarters. Sighing, Hope slipped down the wall, nestling between Ruth and Frank. They all looked far worse for wear than earlier, and Hope wished she still had her musette bag of supplies. Reluctantly, she peeled the blood fabric of her overalls away from her right knee, examining the deep, angry gash that ran across the joint. She hissed, pulling the fabric back down and meeting Ruth's eyes.

"It's not that bad," she whispered, placing a comforting hand upon Ruth's, smiling through gritted teeth.

Ruth's eyes drifted back down to Hope's knee, eyeing the growing crimson patch suspiciously. She'd known Hope long enough to know when she was lying, but knowing Hope, she wouldn't admit how much pain she was truly in. Her blue eyes rose to Hope's dark ones, "It looks pretty bad to me, Hope. I..."

"Hey, don't worry about me, alright? Everything's going to be fine, I promise." Hope felt guilty, she knew she shouldn't make promises she couldn't keep, but seeing how Ruth visibly relaxed a little made the lie worth it. What good would it do to make her best friend more worried?

The train rumbled to life, pulling slowly away from the station, sending a domino effect of shakes and shudders down the carriages as it pulled out of the station. The rocking was oddly comforting, like how a baby likes to be rocked in its bassinet, and after the trauma of the day, they needed any ounce of comfort they could get. Ruth finally relaxed into Hope's side, burying her head into the crook of her neck as Frank sat quietly on the other side clutching his ribs, his breathing quieter now. Wherever they were going, it was probably a long ride, and for a moment they took comfort in the solace.

They must have drifted asleep because the next thing Hope remembered was the large container door being swung open, flooding the carriage with a bright white light. She squished herself back into Frank, who had his arm protectively around her shoulder, trying to bury her head from the blinding light. Four figures stumbled through the light, disappearing into the darkened end of the carriage before the door was swung closed once more. Everyone in the carriage remained silent, only the noise of Frank's heavy breathing could be heard.

"Is someone in here?" A rather posh English accent was emitted from the darkness. Nobody spoke, too afraid of what more people in the carriage meant for them. "Hello?"

"What do you want?" Frank spoke up, his voice gruff and hoarse from the dusty air within the carriage.

"Nothing," the man replied, "Other than to know where they're sending us."

"Your guess is as good as mine," Hope replied, shuffling forward until Frank's hand came across her chest, stopping her movements. She could see the whites of his eyes in the darkness looking at her sternly and beside him Ruth's eyes stared wide and frightened.

"Is that a woman's voice?" Another man asked, followed by a shuffling noise. It sounded as though the men were approaching them and Hope held her breath until her hand came into contact with a warm body.

"I'm Wing Commander Jones, this man to my right is Squadron Leader Colman and the two on my left are Flight Officers Carter and Williams. Were with the RAF," Jones spoke up, reaching his hand out for Hope to shake. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness and she could make out the rather battered features of the Wing Commander. He was a handsome fella, only in his late twenties with sandy blonde hair. The other three men looked no better off, all bloody and bruised.

"I'm First Lieutenant Hope Armstrong, I'm a US Flight Nurse. This is my colleague Second Lieutenant Ruth Morgan and our pilot, Captain Frank Martin."

The men all nodded in greeting, and Frank and Ruth greeted them in turn before the pilots took their seats on the rough wooden floor, huddling together like the trio had when they had first boarded.

The locomotive soon rumbled to life again, pulling away from the station with its wheels clattering loudly against the tracks. The wind whooshed past the engine, creating an eerie whistling noise between the carriages. The occupants remained silent, all too deep in their own thoughts to talk amongst themselves.

Ruth moved to rest her head against Hope's chest, snuggling into her friend's flight jacket, enjoying the familiar smell of Hope's soap. She felt safe, warm and familiar, something that the blonde clung to as they rocked to and fro in the dark. Ruth's heart rate slowed a little in the familiar embrace. She just wanted to sleep, the pain in her arm having ebbed to a dull ache for the time being, as long as she didn't move the limb it wasn't too bad.

"You okay?" Hope whispered, pushing a few wisps of blonde hair from her friend's forehead. Ruth looked up at her, large blue eyes reflecting in the dim light. They looked tearful, and Hope drew her arm up around Ruth, pulling her against her body. She hated seeing Ruth so forlorn, it was so different from her normally bubbly personality. It was strange really that Ruth was the older one and yet Hope felt like an older sister to her.

"It will be alright, Rue. You'll see. We'll be okay," she mumbled, pressing her lips to Ruth's forehead.

"You can't promise that," Ruth mumbled, snuggling her head further into Hope's chest, hearing her heart beating strongly against her ear reminding her that they were still alive. "Are you scared?"

Hope nodded, letting a few tears slip silently down her cheeks, the image of her best friend looking so broken and forlorn hurt more than she could bear. "Course, I'm scared, Rue, but we've got to be strong. We've got to get back to John and Gale, remember? And Hugh too." It felt strange to speak their names now, especially as they seemed so far away from the men they loved. Hope wondered what Gale was doing now, maybe he was writing her a letter, or preparing for a mission. The more likely answer was that he was trying to keep John and Hugh out of some kind of trouble. Hope couldn't help the smile that grew on her lips at the thought of her troublesome brother.

A small smile spread across Ruth's lips too amused that she mentioned Hugh as an afterthought, her mind clearly preoccupied with Gale as of late.

"If I remember rightly, I have a wedding to get to and I need my maid of honour there with me," Hope glanced down at Ruth, looking upon the mass of blonde curls that now lay in her lap. Hope wished that she could let herself be as scared as Ruth was, she truly was terrified but something in her stopped her from panicking. She wasn't sure whether it was her training kicking in or her natural response to freeze, but something in her made her stay strong. She couldn't afford to give up hope yet.

Ruth rolled onto her side, looking up at her friend, a small smile playing on her lips, "I can't wait for your wedding. You're gonna look so beautiful, Hope."

Ruth had to admit that she'd been a little more than excited about the prospect of a wedding. They had so little to look forward to in this darn war that it was the highlight of Ruth's year, well maybe after meeting John of course.

Hope smiled weakly, "Thanks, Rue. That's why I need my best girl there beside me. I can't do it all alone," she shook her friends' shoulders playfully, careful to mind her injured arm. Hope tried not to think about her vacant wedding dress hanging in the Red Cross Nissen hut. She'd tried it on the last time she was there, spinning happily as the white material flowed around her. Everything had felt so perfect back then. Gale had waited for her outside the hut, promising he wouldn't peek through the window at the dress. He'd swept her up into his arms, his hands resting on her hips as he'd kissed her so gently.

"You won't be alone, you'll have Gale," Ruth corrected her, "And we all know that you won't be needing me after you're married. You two will be having too much fun," Ruth smiled sadly, the reality of them splitting up hitting her more than she'd ever realised. They'd taken for granted everyday they'd been able to spend together, and the thought of not seeing Hope's smiling face everyday made her heart ache a little more.

Noticing Hope's strained expression she piped up. "I don't know if John would like the idea of me being your best girl instead of his."

Hope chuckled, "Hey, I claimed you first. You'll always be my best girl, Ruth." She brushed her fingers softly over the older woman's forehead, tracing the worry lines with her index finger. "Love you, Rue."

Ruth wasn't sure why Hope had suddenly turned so sentimental, normally she was the levelheaded one of the pair, the quick thinker, the reliable one, but now..

"Love you too, Hope," she replied quietly, her eyes drawing closed as she slipped out of consciousness again as the rocking of the carriage sent her to sleep.

Hope grazed her fingers over Ruth's cheeks a few more times, admiring how peaceful she looked now she was asleep. Beside her Frank was talking quietly with Squadron Leader Colman, their hushed tones being the only noise filling the carriage, other than the rattling of the train chasing along the tracks.

Frank's arm had slipped around Hope's shoulder and she lay back against his arm, careful to avoid his injured ribs. She found her own eyes growing heavy and she fought against the sleep that threatened to take over, the events of the day finally catching up with her. She raised her hand, feeling for the necklace she always wore, knowing that the familiar feeling of her brother's ring and her engagement ring would bring her some comfort. The emptiness reminded her the Krauts had taken it when they'd caught them. The lack of the familiar ritual caused large tears to slip down her cheeks.

Ever since Hugh had given it to her on her eighteenth birthday she'd worn that necklace, never once taking it off. It had become her safety net, whenever she was worried or scared she only had to touch it and know that Hugh was with her. She had worn it through all of her training and every mission after that, it was her good luck charm. When Gale had given her the engagement ring it had gone right alongside it so that Gale and Hugh were always with her. Hope could picture Gale's face now, the beaming smile he'd sent her way as he gave her the ring.

"Hope Armstrong, will you marry me?"

Hope's throat was tight, her mouth suddenly dry and her mind paralysed from any other thought than yes. Yes. She nodded quickly, throwing her arms around Gale before hissing in pain. He quickly helped her up, carrying her over to his own bunk where she could lay comfortably against his pillow. He lay beside her, clutching the ring between his thumb and forefinger.

"So is that a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes," she leant forward quickly, sealing her lips to her fiancé's with a smile. Gale's hand moved to cup her cheek, stroking it lovingly as he held her close.

It seemed like a lifetime ago now that they had been so happy, so in love with their whole future planned out together. That dream seemed so far away, like a distance memory that threatened to taunt her of how good life could have been.

The tears came more freely now, no need to hold them back now Ruth wasn't awake to see them. How could she let this happen to them? She was the senior officer...she was supposed to look after Ruth.

Hope could see it now, John's disappointed face looking down at her. She'd lost his girl, how could he ever forgive her for that? And Gale. Poor sweet, kind, loving Gale. She couldn't have asked for a better man as a husband, but now...now that she'd failed so miserably. Hope's chest grew tighter and tighter as the tears flowed. She was glad everyone else in the train was too preoccupied or asleep to notice her falling apart. How could she be so weak? So helpless? She was supposed to be strong. She was supposed to...

The train shuddered to a halt, jolting its passengers forward before slamming them back against the hard, wooden wall of the carriage. The large door on the side swung open, filling the carriage with bright light once more.

"OUT! OUT! OUT!"

Hope jumped up with a start, her legs carrying her against her will to the doorway. She climbed down first alongside one of the RAF pilots that she thought was called Colman. She turned to Ruth who had been right behind her, wanting to help her down but she was pushed forward. She felt hands wrapping around her, pulling her away from Ruth who desperately searched for her through the crowd.

"RUTH! FRANK!" She screamed, fighting against the soldier's tight grip, his fingers digging mercilessly into her sides. "RUTH!" Hope found herself slipping free from his grip, ignoring the angry shouts that followed her.

She couldn't see Ruth or Frank through the sea of people, all pushing and shoving her in the opposite direction to where she'd last seen her friends. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She'd never felt so claustrophobic as she pushed through the frightened bodies. People were shouting, calling out against the Wehrmacht soldiers. She saw the odd flash of blue, and wondered if it was the RAF men they'd shared a carriage with. It was then that Hope realised that there must have been more people in the other carriages, watching them flood out onto the platform, all panicked and scared.

How many people had been through this before them?

How many of them were still alive?

She caught a flash of the familiar blonde bob, fighting to keep her head above the crowd as she felt like she was drowning, drifting further away. "RUTH!" She cried out, tears streaming down her cheeks. She could make out Frank too near Ruth, he was shouting something above the crowd that she couldn't make out. Was he calling for her?

A hand gripped Hope's throat, spinning her round harshly. The fingers pressed against her windpipe making it difficult to breathe, difficult to fight against her capture. Her vision blurred with tears as all the oxygen seemed to leave her lungs in one gasp. The soldier's fingers dug in, leaving dark purple marks against her skin. Hope could feel her nails clawing at his hands, digging into his flesh but he only smirked back at her.

"Du kleines bisschen n," the German spat, tugging Hope aggressively towards him. Hope's vision blurred as she felt his fist connecting with her cheek and she stumbled forward, falling onto a pair of black boots. Through tearful eyes she glanced up, her eyes meeting those of a Luftwaffe officer. His bright blue eyes seemed kind and concerned, far kinder than any of the other German's she had met.

His hand reached down, pulling Hope up by her flight jacket harshly, setting her right before turning to the soldier that had stroked her. He leant forward, whispering to the soldier, whose face fell quickly and he nodded, hurrying away through the crowd.

He turned to Hope smiling softly, his hand reached up to brush against the cut above Hope's eyebrow but she hit his hand away.

He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly indifferent about the whole encounter and took Hope by the elbow, leading her back through the crowd.

There were several large green army trucks waiting the other side of Frankfurt station, lined up against the damaged outer wall.

The officer pushed Hope towards the furthest one, offering out his hand but Hope ignored him, climbing up into the truck herself. She wasn't about to take any help from a Germany, even if he seemed like a half decent person.

The second she was on the truck, Ruth shot to her feet and enveloped her into a tight embrace, ignoring the pain shooting through her arm at the movement.

"I-I tried to get to you," Ruth whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Hope returned the hug, pulling back with tear-filled eyes. "It's okay, Rue. I know."

From beside them, Frank's brows furrowed as he caught sight of something on her neck. He gently reached out and brushed aside Hope's dark hair, revealing a series of finger-shaped bruises along her throat. Anger flared within the man at the sight, and his fists clenched at his sides.

"What happened?" Frank asked, his voice low and protective

"I fought against the kraut that grabbed me…he didn't like that." Hope didn't really want to say anymore and Frank seemed to realise, instead he gave her hand a tight squeeze. She reached up, rubbing the bruises that had formed over her neck and collar bone. She felt stiff where she'd been thrown to the floor but she knew that the full extent of her bruises would be evident until tomorrow.

The guards soon climbed on board, glaring silently at them and the trio sat along the wooden benches in silence. The truck rumbled to life, taking off down the road at a slow pace before it picked up some speed, bumping along. The prisoners rocked from side to side, trying to remain upright on the rough wooden benches. Hope intertwined her hand with Ruth's and offered a comforting squeeze while Frank stared daggers at the Luftwaffe airmen in front.

Merley twenty minutes later, the truck rolled to a stop in front of two large wire gates, surrounded by barbed wire and guard posts. A large wooden sign with white lettering stood at the entrance, and they all stared at the words as if they could possibly decipher the sign's meaning despite not speaking a word of the language. The trucks drew to a haunt and Hope could make out four large wooden buildings.

The officer reappeared at the tailgate, gesturing his head to the side. "Get out."

They all followed the orders and hopped down, their boots squelching in the mud beneath their feet. Each person helped the person behind them down, until the four were led into the camp. The barbed wire stood tall above them as they silently walked through the gate and into a nearby wooden building.

A few desks were scattered about, and the multiple windows allowed the bright sunlight to illuminate the otherwise dark room. Without a word, they were directed to stand in a line, their backs against the wall. Hope pressed her back firmly against it, glancing anxiously along the line as the Luftwaffe airmen on either end shared a look. It felt like they were in a lineup and Hope couldn't fight the anxiety that returned at this action. They were POWs after all and despite the Geneva Convention she knew in the back of her mind that if they wanted to the soldiers would kill them all.

One by one, they were called forward, the officer's harsh tongue causing them all to jump. Ruth was called up first and sent Hope a nervous glance before following the Luftwaffe officer around the corner and out of site.

Hope shuffled nervously back and forth, pressing the toe of her boot against the damaged wooden floorboard, as she tried to catch a glimpse of where Ruth had disappeared to.

"She'll be alright," Frank reassured her, squeezing Hope's hand from where he stood in front of her. She knew Frank was probably as worried as she was, but despite everything he remained stoic which was exactly what Hope needed right now.

"I'm worried, Frank. She's injured and... and..."Frank turned around, wrapping Hope tightly to his chest as she let out a small sob. Ruth was all she had when they were in the air. They needed each other more than they would ever truly realise.

Everything ached, her body screamed for her to lie down and rest. Her chest felt tight, like a weight was crushing her ribs and it had finally flattened her. Frank's hand rubbed small circles on her back, an act that Gale had always done and it only made Hope cry harder. She wished more than anything for this all to be a bad dream and that any moment she would wake up in Gale's arms. He hold her close, whispering sweet nothings into her hair.

All too soon Frank was dragged away from her and disappeared around the corner, she lurched after him but the American pilot behind her grabbed her arm.

"Hope, no!"

She stopped. "How do you know my name," she sniffled, rubbing the sleeve of her jacket over her cheeks. She probably looked like some sort of damsel in distress, a weak woman, but at this precise moment she didn't care how terrible she may have looked.

"I'm Bob Wolff. I was in the 418th, I knew your fiancé, Buck Cleven."

And just like that time stood still as Bob spoke his name. Gale. Her Gale.

"You knew my Gale," she whispered, her voice barely audible, and Bob nodded, bringing his hand up to rest on Hope's shoulder.

"I sure did. He's one of the nicest guys I've ever met. He talked about you a lot," Bob smiled kindly, sensing Hope's distress. "He's gonna give those Krauts hell until he finds you."

Hope knew that was probably true. Gale wasn't a violent man but she knew he would volunteer for every mission he could. He'd want revenge and to add to it so would John. She could only image the chaos that their crash would have caused at Thorpe Abbott.

Before Hope could reply to Bob, a Luftwaffe officer appeared beside her, grasping her arm and pulling her in the direction that Ruth and Frank had disappeared. Bob smiled reassuringly at her before he vanished from view.

Hope couldn't help the butterflies that flipped around her stomach, eating away at her stomach and causing bile to rise in the back of her throat. She could feel the acid burning at her tongue but swallowed it down, wincing at the taste.

The room she was lead into was small and smelt of damp, stale air. It was thick and hard to breathe as Hope's lungs struggled to keep with up her rapid inhales and racing heart.

There were three soldiers in the room she was taken into. The first grabbed her hand, pressing her fingers firmly into an ink pad before pressing them onto a document. She felt as though she was some sort of criminal but fought the urge to withdraw her hand. It would only cause more trouble.

She was then pushed forward, where the other two soldiers stood with a camera mounted on a stand. The taller of the two pushed her in front of the white background, barking for her to stand up straight. She did as she was told, waiting for the blinding flash that was to follow. She couldn't smile, this was not the sort of picture you smiled for.

The bright flash made her wince, shying away from it slightly. She felt as though she was being scrutinised, as though she was some inhuman creature to be studied. She wondered what the Krauts would do with all their photographs, whether they would hang them on a wall as trophies or make them prisoners' identifications. She didn't like to ponder on the thought for much longer.

The last picture she'd had taken was with Gale at Dye's 25th mission party. This picture was a far cry from how happy she had looked that night, wrapped up in her fiancé's arms, their love there for the whole world to see. And Hugh.. her heart ached at the thought of her brother. The longest they'd been apart was the months Hugh had spent away training. Who knows when or if she would ever see him again?

"Move," one of the soldiers shoved her away from the white wall and Hope realised that she'd been frozen to the spot. "Move over there," he pointed towards a bench hidden in a darkened corner.

Hope's eyes adjusted to the light and she could make out the figures of Ruth and Frank waiting silently on the bench. She sat beside Frank and he placed his good arm around her shoulder, his eyes laced with concern and she gave him a small smile. He wanted to ask her about her sudden breakdown, but with a quick glance at Ruth's worried expression he knew now was not the time.

Once they were all finished, the group was escorted from the intake building to a much smaller one across a large, muddy courtyard. A wall of warmth hit them as they shuffled into the room, and Ruth's stomach growled at the smell of food being cooked. Hope couldn't help but inhaling deeply, relishing in the smell of warm food. The small piece of toast she'd grabbed from the mess hall before their flight that morning had done nothing to sustain her. They'd planned on having a proper breakfast when they got back to base later that day.

That plan went up in smoke the second their plane did.

They walked further into the room and sat at one of the long tables set up, Hope found her mouth watering. The four Americans shared confused glances while waiting for someone to speak. They stared at the officer expectantly, but he just nodded at something behind him and moved to stand by the door.

The RAF men that had been with them on the train soon appeared in the doorway and were ushered towards their table, all sharing confused looks until a door opened at the other end of the room. The group watched in confusion as several weathered looking men walked in. They were dressed in air force blue that the RAF was known for, their hair a little longer and shaggier than the pilots they had arrived with. Many of them had beards or some other variation of facial hair and they looked tired, dark circles under most of their eyes.

One of the younger men set out a bowl in front of each of the people sat around the table. Hope glanced over at Ruth who shared her confused expression. Were they going to feed them?

The other two prisoners pushed a stainless steel trolley with a large, silver pot on top. They opened the lid, revealing a steaming, brown liquid inside that was quickly slopped into the bowls. Hope grimaced at the chunks floating in the watery, brown soup. She decided not to ask what it was made of.

"How long have you been here?" Wing Commander Jones asked the youngest prisoner, grabbing his arm to stop him as he tried to retreat away from the table.

"I don't know," the young man admitted, his pale blue eyes casting a quick glance over the table. "Welcome to Germany, Sir."

"Welcome to hell, more like," one of the older men serving the soup spoke quietly, glancing over at the two Luftwaffe officers that had remained in the doorway. "Just keep your heads low and keep out of trouble until they move you on. You shouldn't be at Dulag Luft too long."

"Move us on?" Frank spoke up, "Where do they move us to?"

The man shrugged, his uniform slipping a little on his thin, boney shoulders. The girls shared a look, a silent question.

How long would they be here?

"No one knows. Dulag Luft is where they hold you until they decide where to send you for the rest of the war. Some are here a few days, others a few weeks. Depends how long it takes them to place you," he secured the lid back on the now empty pot. "You're lucky if you get one run by the Luftwaffe, I hear they treat prisoners better than the Wehrmacht."

The three prisoners retreated back through the doors at the end of the hall, followed by one of the officers, and the group was left in silence. They all shared the same anxious look, even the Wing Commanders dark eyebrows were pulled tightly together.

"We should eat up," Squadron Leader Colman interrupted the silence, digging his little spoon into the soup. He swallowed the liquid quickly and Ruth wondered whether that was a good or bad thing but they all followed suit, eating the bland soup quickly. Hope relished at the feeling of the warm liquid slipping down her throat, soothing her nerves slightly. It didn't taste good, but it was warm and that was all she could ask for.

As soon as they finished eating three Luftwaffe officers strolled into the room, their long boots tapping harshly against the wooden floor of the hut.

"Up. Up," the first one ordered, pushing several of the RAF men out of their chairs, before moving round to the Americans. They formed an orderly line, no one dared speak. The German officer at the front spun on his heels, marching loudly up the hall to which everyone followed.

Hope glanced nervously behind her, catching Ruth's wide eyes as she sent her a reassuring smile. Frank was in front of her and she kept her walk in time with his, ensuring she didn't fall behind the other prisoners.

They were led out of the mess hut building and into a courtyard where they followed the officers round to another long, wooden building resembling the other three buildings on site. The air was now bitterly cold as the evening drew in and Hope pulled the collar of her flight jacket tightly around her, shielding her neck from the harsh conditions. Her fingers frozen and she dug them deep into her pockets as they trudged through the mud.

The officer swung open a wooden door, leading the prisoners into the long wooden building, which was connected to the building beside it through a narrow passage.

The prisoners continued to follow the officer down the hall. Hope could feel the nervous butterflies growing in her stomach once more but this time they performed summersaults. She fought the urges to turn back to look at Ruth, knowing that the officer behind would not act kindly towards it.

Her feet got heavy with each step that she took and she wondered how much further they would have to walk until the whole column came to a stop. Hope held her breath, watching as the officer had one of the guards unlock one of the wooden doors that ran along the hall and opened it.

"In," he commanded Wing Commander Jones, who glanced back at the other prisoners before stepping inside before the door was shut firmly behind him.

They moved to the cell next door and repeated the same action with Squadron Leader Colman. He'd sent Hope a reassuring smile before he disappeared but nothing could help the anxiety that was evident on her face. She chewed her bottom lip, reaching cautiously behind her until she felt a familiar hand grasping her own. She squeezed Ruth's hand reassuringly, a silent promise that everything would be okay, even if she didn't believe that herself.

It only grew harder as the line of prisoners became just a few and as Frank sent the girls a pained smile, Hope knew that she was next. As the Luftwaffe officer neared the door a few down from Frank and stopped she had to fight every instinct she had not to turn and run. It would do them no good and would only make the whole situation worse for everyone.

The door was unlocked slowly and it swung back with a eerie creak to reveal the small cell within. It held a small cot pressed against the back wall, a table and chair in the other corner and upon the table was an electric bell, which Hope could only assume was used by the occupant to call the guards.

Hope couldn't step forward. She couldn't bring herself to leave Ruth. They only had each other. She wished that Gale was here, he'd know what to do and he'd tell her that everything would be alright. She scolded herself for that thought. How could she wish the man she loved so dearly to end up in a place like this? She shook the thought from her mind, silently praying that Gale would never have to see such a place as this.

A firm hand on her back pushed her into the cell and before she realised what was happening the door had swung shut behind her.

"No! NO! RUTH!" She cried, hammering her firsts against the wooden door. She could hear the muffled cries of her friend disappearing from ear shot and the only noise left was the repetitive dripping noise from a leak in the roof directly above the cot.

Hope's eyes began to adjust to the light and found herself slipping to the floor in front of the door. Her whole body sagging beneath her as she finally gave in. There was no use in fighting anymore, she was locked in a cell and there was nothing she could do. The image of Ruth's worried face haunted her as her eyes slid shut and she snapped them open once more. How could Ruth ever forgive her? She was supposed to keep her safe and now they were POWs. She wondered if she would ever see Ruth again and she promised herself that if she did she'd apologise for everything. She just had to hope that they all lived long enough for that reunion.

…………………………………………………………………………….

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @beebeechaos @forsythiagalt @hesbuckcompton-baby @vera-keller @blueberry-ovaries

[amournoir]

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐧.𝐦

warning: these will be my personal thoughts, some are tame whereas others are sinful to say the least. read at your own peril. 

1. the first time you and klaus meet would probably be at some sort of party, ball, gala, etc. 

2. klaus is many things but shy sure as hell ain’t one of them, if he wants you, he’ll make it known. 

3. but just between us girls, iykyk, you want him. i don’t blame you. 

4. he’s a gentleman though, he’s no elijah, but close enough. 

5. he’s always paying attention to everything you say and keeping a mental list of it all. 

6. on random days you are greeted by new gifts whether it’s a holiday or not, he doesn’t care. 

7. speaking of caring, you’re the only one he cares about but it can get a tad bit toxic. just a tad. 

8. he’ll spare people, save your friends, do anything you ask simply because it comes from you. 

9. you actually hate asking him for favors, you enjoy doing things by yourself which pisses him off because he wants to be of some use to you. 

10. back to the gentleman thing— he’ll hold a door or two, open the car door, stand in front of you in the presence of enemies, pull the chair for you, etc. 

11. he spoils you rotten. no really, the man will literally shower you in gifts regardless of whether you want him to or not.

12. he’s an old soul, don’t forget that although it can be easy to when he’s throwing childish tantrums. 

13. he’ll ask your permission for things that pertain to you or are personal. 

14. for example during your first kiss together, he kept looking into your eyes to make sure you wanted that.  

15. he respects you so much. your opinion on anything and everything is held in high regard to him, even higher than elijah. 

16. that drives you insane sometimes. you can never go a day without a text or phone call from him. if you don’t answer, his siblings will call you as well (he forces them). 

17. he’s a huge teddy bear, or a cuddly puppy i should say. he’s got a soft spot only you are privy to. 

18. believe it or not but he’s not a pda guy though he wouldn’t pass on an opportunity to mark his territory, you, in front of other guys & make a show of it. 

19. possessive much? it’s ok, you secretly like it though. his jealousy turns you on. 

20. cheek kisses, back of the hand kisses, temple kisses are more his thing as far as pda goes. 

21. side note, are you a pet name type of person? no? oh well, you’ll just have to get used to his pet names for you: love, darling, sweetheart, princess, my queen, etc.

22. somewhere up there i mentioned gifts, one of them would be paintings of you. some of them are you doing mundane things like eating or even sleeping but you adore them! 

23. this goes without saying but i’ll say it just in case. along with the gifts he gets you, your drawer/closet is filled with expensive clothing and accessories.

24. some of which he uses during your sexy time. he’s ripped and torn far too many lingeries but you don’t mind, he replaces them. 😏

25. now that i’ve slightly mentioned kinks, if you squint very hard you’ll see, let’s get down and dirty.

26. let’s start with his jealousy. he can easily tell when it turns you on, your heartbeat gives you away and this leads to rough sex or depending on whether you purposely made him jealous, he would punish you. 

27. you are turned on by the simplest things when it comes to him. his smirk, his focused state when he’s painting, his tight black pants and skin tight shirt, his playfulness with his brothers, etc. all of this ends with sex because like i said, your heartbeat tells on you. 

28. let’s mention his kinks that you’re aware of thus far. 

29. he has a dominance kink (duh), breeding kink, boob/nipple kink, toy kink (on you), breath play, and bdsm. 

30. now it’s your turn. your kinks include submission, praise, degradation, spanking, exhibitionism, edging, and role play. 

31. this man enjoys seeing you in two positions: a) on the floor on your knees, hands back, mouth open and head tilted back and b) on your knees on the bed with your bare ass up in the air, hands on your back, legs slightly parted and a gag in your mouth. 

32. you as the good girl you aim to be for him, happily oblige. sometimes. pfft, i didn’t say you were an angel. 

33. i wanna go into slight detail about the toy kink. it drives him mad seeing you filled to the brim, one in your cunt and ass. sometimes he’ll shove himself with the toy too, especially if it’s a vibrating dildo. the last time he punished you, he made you wear a vibrating one in public for over an hour and you almost broke but the promise of being fucked when you got home made you hold it in (pun intended). 

34. you were never really a role play type of girl but after modeling for one of his paintings nude, you were sold. that day you had sex in his art room, bodies slathered with paint in certain places. “paint me like one of your french girls” you had said after watching titanic the first time and he sure as hell did. he painted your spongy walls with his cum. 

35. oh i almost forgot to mention the simple things he enjoys. 

36. for example, he loves when you choke on his dick or when he eats you from behind until you collapse. 

37. he likes blood play but he’s never forced it on you, it only happened twice. it’s not your thing but you let him indulge when he’s a very good boy. 

38. on special occasions, he’s always welcomed by your naked body on the bed. legs spread open, hair down with a white bow, gag in hand, and your tits on display for him. he’s never ran or undressed so fast in his immortal life. 

39. let’s remember that he’s an animal and he fucks you like one as well. you’ve been bent over your fair share of surfaces throughout the compound with the exception of his siblings’ rooms. 

40. you’re always a drooling whimpering mess by the time he’s done with you and you beg for more still. 

41. like that one time he fucked you silly, you actually collapsed and when you woke up like minutes later, you had this stupid grin on your face and said “round three?” he made sure you were okay then agreed but it turned to 4 rounds. 

42. as a hybrid, his sex drive is always high but there are rare times where he doesn’t want to have sex so you just jack him off or suck him. 

43. ironically those times are the ones that you are the most horny so he just fingers you or eats you out, depending on what you want. once, you took his hand and used his digits to finger yourself which was hot as hell. seeing you getting yourself off on his fingers was a sight to behold. 

44. i said he likes boob play and he really does. when you’re cockwarming, a  favorite pastime for you both, he’ll just suck on them. in the morning, he’ll pinch your nipples or tug on them to turn you on. at night, it’s how you end your sex time but it doesn’t really end because it just turns you on all over again. 

45. waaaaay up there i said that he marks his territory when he’s jealous and this is true in sex too. he’ll leave bite marks on obvious places and smirks whenever someone asks you about it. the darker marks are between your thighs, your nipples, just above your clit, and your ass cheeks. 

46. on more than one occasion you’ve had to find ways to get off when he isn’t there. when he caught you for the first time, he was upset but he was more turned on than anything. his good little girl had missed him so much, it slightly hurt him that you had to resort to other methods. so that night you were fucked to sleep. since then, you play with yourself while he watches on facetime and he praises you to get you off, he’d then return home and give you what you had been craving. 

47. sharing is absolutely not caring when it’s about your body. he will not share you with anyone so he’d gladly play whichever role you want him to in order to satiate you. 

48. he can be a sweetheart though, he’s able to be gentle with you. he always would be if you asked but your kinky self rarely does, you prefer his roughness and being thrown about like a rag doll. 

49. just like he’s not a pda guy, he doesn’t brag about his sex life although he made no promises about teasing you in public. when you’re horny, he teases you. when you have a mark, he teases you. when he met your ex, he implied what a good girl you were for him. 

50. he has sexually ruined you for any man and that’s fine by you because you’re cock drunk for him. you’re both freaks in the sheets but it’s all good, whatever makes you both happy. 

a/n: only saw it fit to do Nik since i did Eli already, sorry it’s semi-short. may add more to this one day, who knows. anyways, hope you enjoyed! 

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[toomanybandstocare]

{Captain Rex}

Caring Hands

Program: After months of heartbreak and worry, your roommate takes you out for a night to your old stomping grounds- 79s. A bar that used to hold such fond memories of spending blurry night with your friends of the 501st legion by the side of your riduur, Rex. tonight, it seems the magnetic pull between the two of you is determined to bring you together for one last chance. Pairing: Ex! Captain Rex x Ex! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Second Chances

Naboo Sunset

Program: When Padmé sends word to you that Rex will be on an extended leave this time, you make sure that he'll enjoy his well deserved rest with no worries. Even with General Skywalker in on your plan, no one could have foreseen how Rex would react to your affection. Naboo will always be where the two of you point as the start of your lives as riduurs. Pairing: Captain Rex x GN! Reader Genre: Fluff

Relationship Firsts

Program: It's not often that Rex feels insecure or shies away from the people he cares about most. But as your relationship progresses, he finds that the burdens and scars of war will always sit heavy on his skin. The weight of it all comes crashing down on Rex, and he has you to reassure him that he's more than worthy of your love. Pairing: Captain Rex x GN! Reader -> Early Relationship Genre: Hurt / Comfort & Smut -> Minors Do Not Interact

Headcanons

How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you. 79s hosts a burlesque night, and you catch the eye of three commanding officers.

{Marshal Commander Cody}

Flickering Stars

Program: Having grown close to the Marshal Commander after joining the civilian relief squad, you find yourselves at each other throats after a trap set by Separatists on Endor. Time ticks as the army pushes on through enemy territory, but almost everyone is more worried about you pulling away after Cody's fear getting the better of him with harsh words. When your life begins to flicker in front of his eyes, Cody does everything he can to save and with the hopes to tell you that he loves you. He'll stop at nothing to make sure your death isn't written in the stars rather than your love story. Pairing: Pining! Cody x Pining, GN! Reader Genre: Angst, Star Crossed Lovers (Kind Of)

Headcanons

How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you. 79s hosts a burlesque night, and you catch the eye of three commanding officers.

{Commander Wolffe}

A Small Army

Program: With requests and paperwork assignments falling from two generals, you feel overwhelmed by the lack of support to help finish the additional work. Too afraid to make another mistake, you throw yourself into your tasks unaware of the watchful eyes of those around you. If you won't ask for help yourself, then Wolffe will remind you of the people around who care and want to help. And he'll take the time to explain just how much you mean to him and how much he's willing to do for you, if you let him. Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Candy Cane Cupid

Program: Holidays come around every year with mixed emotion. Excitement buzzes as clones celebrate their first Life Day with their partners after the war. Disappointment is pushed to the back of your mind as you keep yourself busy at work while your riduur is away. Mischief is in the air when Cupid finally reveals his holiday surprise for you. Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Bartender, GN! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort Counselor Note: Also part of the @cloneficgiftexchange's Life Day Event!

Sweet Whiskey

Program: There are some people who come into our lives who are meant to be there through the worst and best of times. Their hearts are entwined with one another and beat in rhythm like it's the only why they know how to exist. A connection that makes so completely sense that it causes us to doubt ourselves and our partner. Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Bartender, GN! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort Counselor Note: Part of the @cloneficgiftexchange's Song Fic Event!

You Came, You Called

Program: You don't know why it happens, or why it lasts for sometimes only a day or spans across months. There are days where you can't recognize the person looking back at you. On those days, there's only one person you trust to call for support. The is nothing in this galaxy that will prevent Wolffe from coming to your aid and caring for you with a tender love that's reserved only for you. Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort Counselor Note: Please read the warnings for this fic as it deals with mental health and heavier topics.

Headcanons

How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you. 79s hosts a burlesque night, and you catch the eye of three commanding officers.

{Arc Trooper Fives}

By Your Side Tonight

Program: As the 501st's support agent, you've come to grow fond of your boys. Even if they're reckless and obvious. You only just marked it up to be a part of their charm, and two members of the boys in blue enjoy pulling at your heartstrings. Always trying to stay one move ahead of them in your game, a night out to 79s has you kneeling before one of them after what should have been a fatal blaster shot. Pairing: Arc Trooper Fives x GN! Reader Genre: Fluff (kind of??? my kind at least), Teasing, Flirty Humor Counselor Note: Part of the @cloneficgiftexchange :) Had a blast being a part of this and can't wait for the next one.

I Wish I Never Asked

Program: It's no secret that there's something going on between you and Fives, and the entire 501st is trying to get one of you to admit that there's more than lust and friendship. A welcome party at your apartment brings in good people, decent drinks, and revealing secrets. Maybe the confident ARC trooper isn't all that sure of himself or his emotions as he leads everyone to believe. Pairing: FWB, ARC Trooper Fives x FWB, GN! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Second Chances

Headcanons

Fives does not like cold weather- he hates it in fact. How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you .

{Arc Trooper Jesse}

A Night to Remember

Program: A shattered heart, shot glasses, and strobing lights start your night of selfish love. If a certain ARC Trooper makes his desires known and shows his vulnerable side to win you over for the night, who are you to shoot him down? After all, tonight was supposed to be a night forgotten, and Jesse has made it one to remember. Pairing: Jesse x GN! Reader Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort (a lil), Suggestive (a lil)

I've Got My Mind On You

Program: Birthdays...no longer come with presents wrapped in a bow or bring your loved ones together for your celebration. Unable to break away from the sadness and loneliness that you've come to associate with a day meant to for fond memories, you drift away and separate yourself from the people who stand by you everyday. Each day, Jesse keeps his eye on you terrified of the person who's taken your place. This is year that everything changes for the better, but that can only happen if you let it. Pairing: Arc Trooper Jesse x Intelligence officer, GN! Reader Alt Pairing: Arc Trooper Jesse & Intelligence officer, GN! Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Tradition in the Making

Program: Jesse comes home after a recent deployment to Kashyyyk with gifts and worries to share. Especially when his son runs up greets him at the door when Jesse left him in your arms. After dinner and when the little one is tucked in for bed, Jesse admits his conflicts feelings towards his GAR contract renewal and how we was able to cope being away from home. Pairing: Dad! Jesse x GN! Reader Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive (barely and at the end)

Headcanons

How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you.

{Medic Kix}

Come Home to Me

Program: Kix always keeps his promises to you, especially when he says he'll come home. Never once has he left you feeling uneasy about your relationship, yet something makes you hold onto him longer one morning when needs to leave for deployment. Only for his ori'vod to return to you home with shattering news. Pairing: Kix x GN! Reader, established relationship Genre: Fluff -> Angst Requested by @ahsokastechie for a lil fic swap <3

Galaxy's Edge

Program: Everything is too much. The war. The pressure. The responsibilities. It all pushes you to the edge, and you teeter. Just a moment away from leaving it all to try to find a semblance of peace from the raging emotions that overwhelm you. Duty bound by his medical oaths and love, Kix is by your side and knows exactly how to talk you down. Pairing: Kix x GN! Reader, established relationship Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Headcanons

How they fall asleep on their own and when they have the opportunity to stay the night with you.

[sin-cognito]

Rarepair New Year 2024 ch14: Red/Ink, Mafia AU

SFW

Wordcount: 2044

As head of the Gaster family, Red should be sitting at the back of the car and letting his chauffeur drive him around. The issue is that he handpicked this very car years ago and loves her so much that he can't bear the thought of letting anyone else (but his dear brother) put their stinky hands on her delicate wheel. He's the only one allowed to drive her.

READ ON AO3

As head of the Gaster family, Red should be sitting at the back of the car and letting his chauffeur drive him around. The issue is that he handpicked this very car years ago and loves her so much that he can't bear the thought of letting anyone else (but his dear brother) put their stinky hands on her delicate wheel. He's the only one allowed to drive her.

As such, he's presently happily swerving around town with his chauffeur in the back, silent and scared to hell by his Don's driving style.

"BROTHER, YOU SHOULD MAYBE SLOW DOWN A LITTLE," Papyrus points out from next to him, unperturbed as he polishes a gun. "I THINK YOUR POOR CHAUFFEUR IS GOING TO HAVE A STROKE IF YOU KEEP UP WITH THIS SPEED."

Red guffaws. "nah, he gotta get used to it since i'm gonna do all the driving around." He briefly readjusts the rearview mirror and catches the chauffeur's terrified gaze. "you okay back there? want me to stop and let you get off?"

The chauffeur can only shake his head wildly, knowing that outside will be worse. They're currently driving very close to enemy territory, and it would be suicide for someone in the family, especially one who's so close to the Don, to walk around in there without some higher-up's protection. Unfortunately for the chauffeur, Red is busy today and doesn't have time to play baby-sitter.

A snarky grin makes its way onto Red's teeth just thinking about his plans for the afternoon. As of on cue, his favorite shop comes into view. He turns right and parks in front of it. He's been spending all his time there for the past three months or so. He instructs his brother to get the car back home safe and sound, as he doesn't trust the chauffeur to have regained his composure quite enough yet to drive his beloved car.

Edge asks him when he should send someone to pick him up, and Red shrugs.

"i'll figure it out," he waves his brother away as he makes his way into the little bookshop.

As always, the place is crowded with books and dust, and devoid of clients. The only other living being besides the Don is a small skeleton with bright eyelights and an addictive, pastel rainbow blush.

Ink.

Red's little darling turns around when he hears the doorbell ring and his eyelights light up.

"Red, my favorite client! How nice to see you today! Come in, please!" The small skeleton hurries to put the stack of books he was carrying onto the shelves in no particular order, before he makes his way to Red. He does so with great difficulty though, considering most paths between the shelves are covered in books and old newspapers that Ink insists on not throwing away for archiving purposes. "Would you like a cup of tea? What are the news around town? Tell me all the gossip!"

Red chuckles as he lets himself be pulled by the sleeve toward the checkout counter, which is also covered in books.

He gives an update on the status of the city to his small friend, omitting some details about his family's personal affairs. It wouldn't do for a mafia boss to reveal all his secrets so easily. Especially to someone like Ink.

"I heard that a building was burned to the ground in the neighborhood north of the river. It must be the Dreemurr family. Even for such an old and well established family, they have no class," Ink rants as he pours tea into two cups.

"yeah, that's what happens when their tenants don't pay their taxes," Red comments, bent over the counter, chin in the palm of his hand, his half-hooded eyesockets trained on Ink's every movement. "kind of a shitty way to solve things if you want my opinion. all they gained from burning down that building is a pile of ashes, and still no tax money from the tenants."

Ink chuckles as he sips his tea.

"This city is rotten to the bone, heh, but there are families out there that'll treat their tenants right and who won't ask for unpayable protection taxes."

"oh, and who might these families be, i wonder?" Red hums. "certainly they need to be well-established ones rather than newcomers who just barged in with no foreplay, don't you think?"

Ink shoots Red a joyful smile that's more than easy to decypher for the Don: touché.

"Anyway, as flattered as I am to receive such a prestigious guest in my humble little shop, what might bring me the pleasure of your visit?" Ink asks, taking the now empty cups and setting them aside to wash later.

Red rolls his shoulders as he removes his fedora hat. "my apologies, i should've started with that. i'm always happy to pay my dear friend an impromptu visit, but i'm here today to ask if perhaps you could find a specific book for me."

Ink looks intrigued. "A book? What sort of book?"

Ah. Red realizes he didn't think far enough about his excuse to come visit his little darling, and he looks around the shop, scrambling to find an idea. Next to him, Ink has a hard time keeping his giggles in check at seeing the mafia Don struggle to find a believable title for the imaginary book.

"I received new books about astrology and old scientific papers the other day," Ink whispers to help Red.

"oh, right, thanks," Red whispers back before adding in a louder voice, dramatically accentuating his intonations. "well you see, i've been quite interested in astronomy lately-"

"Astrology."

"-in astrology lately, and so i was wondering if maybe you had some books about that."

Ink rolls his eyelights and shakes his skull as he smiles fondly at Red before gesturing to the door that leads toward the back of the shop.

"Yes I do! They're all in the back so if you would please follow me."

Ink quickly shuts the front door and puts up the 'closed' sign, then the two skeletons make their way to the back. It's quiet back there, they can't hear the cars in the streets nor any mafia induced violence out there.

As they pass by a couple of cabinets, Red's impressive shoulder width doesn't seem to agree with the narrow passage and he knocks one of the cabinets open. A couple guns fall down from a drawer, which he's quick to pick up.

"oopsie daisy, my bad," he places them back into the drawer, or at least tries to. The cabinets are as tidy as the bookshop, which is to say not at all, and whenever he manages to put one gun back, another falls down. "say, you really should organize your shit better, you know? how the hell do you manage to keep track of your stock in these conditions?"

Ink chuckles awkwardly while the Don shakes his skull disapprovingly.

"I need my guns to be easily accessible in case one of my boys comes here to get one for an emergency. Did you know that my guys are frequently attacked by a certain someone's minions?"

Red shrugs nonchalantly, pushing Ink toward the couch that Ink keeps in the backroom for special guests.

"well maybe your guys should stop trying to get their filthy hands on my family's territory. i ain't giving the order to leave your clan alone when all you've been doing is being a pain in my ass and stealing my tax money."

"Oh, like you need the money. This city already belongs to you, Don Gaster," Ink nags him all the while grabbing Red by the tie and pulling him down so that he's pinning Ink down on the couch. "But maybe we should switch positions, and you can become a pain in my ass," he teases as he wraps his arms around Red's shoulders and thrusts his hips up, rubbing his crotch against Red's. His intent is clear.

"maybe i'll do just that," Red purrs back before bending down and capturing Ink's mouth in a rough kiss.

The two fool around for a while, keeping most of their clothes on just in case someone from Ink's family pays the bookshop an impromptu visit. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened, so now Ink makes sure to keep his pants on, albeit down to the ankles while Red pushes into him from behind.

They've been seeing each other regularly for the past three months, and to say they're smitten over each other would be the understatement of the year. Unfortunately for them however, they're not free to openly express their affection in public.

For one, Red is the biggest Don in the city, and as such he's regularly the target of many gruesome murder attempts on his person. He's never really felt scared for his life though, not with his little brother by his side, who's shooting prowess has earned him quite a reputation. Red himself isn't half bad when it comes to handling a gun, though he prefers to negociate first. His father used to rule over the whole city and while he's lost some territory since Wingdings passed away a couple years ago, Red is still feared by most other families.

The only one that's proving to be a thorn in his, heh, flesh, is a new family that arrived half a year ago. They call themselves the Prism family, and while they're obviously not very experienced when it comes to the mafia etiquette, not to mention that they're awful at shooting straight with their cheap guns, they make up for it with their unpredictability.

The Prism family immediately caught Red's attention, and he began tracking them down, thinking that once he'd find the head of the family, things would get back to normal. The problem is that he didn't expect to not only find the head of the family, but he didn't anticipate he'd be finding him to be so cute and charming and lovely.

Ink.

The little skeleton who has been plaguing his days and his dreams for several months now, ever since he first stepped foot in that little fake bookshop that serves the head of the Prism family as a front for all his mafia activities. Red was shocked to learn the truth about the cutiepie, and that's saying something from someone who's whole job usually consists of piercing through the hardest poker face during intense negociations.

So despite the fact that their families are technically enemies, Red and Ink can't help but see each other secretly whenever they can. Red is getting tired of these stolen moments, but it's not like he can just announce that the Prism family will fuse with his all nilly willy. Such an announcement is bound to create nasty ripples, especially considering the Prism family members have decided that bothering and attacking the Gaster relatives is the best way to conquer as much territory in the city as they can, and fast. And Ink can't decently tell them to leave the Gasters alone without a good excuse either.

So Red makes do with what he can get from Ink here and there. He learns to appreciate the other's body for as long as their lovemaking is allowed to last, he kisses Ink's face and his mouth and whispers terribly mushy things into the other's neck. Ink doesn't do much better honestly, sighing his pleasure into the silence of the back room while their families go at war with each other outside.

Maybe one day Red will come up with a plan to have their families merge into one. Or maybe one day one will destroy the other, and Red can only hope he'll survive that war just to be able to take Ink's hand and run away with him to a far away land. Or maybe yet another powerful family will show up, or the Dreemurrs will finally get their shit together and become actually strong enough to pose a threat to both the Gasters and the Prisms, and Red and his little darling will call a temporary truce that will turn real in time.

Whatever happens, Red knows that he's not letting Ink go so easily.