#I know this is probably the truth but I am so physically incapable of it I think they're saying 'fuck you I just don't want to do it'

[mira--mira]

Life lessons I have not learned but know I need to: Not everyone obsesses over agreements and responsibilities like I do to the point of ‘forgetting I agreed to something’ has only been something I’ve done a handful of times in my life. This is extremely exacerbated when it comes to agreeing to do things for other people even for the most mundane things. Most people in fact just forget things.

[snakeautistic]

One of the reasons I believed I couldn’t be autistic for so long was due to a fundamental misunderstanding of my social struggles. This being that I am not by any means incapable of memorizing social rules. Through observation and direction I can construct a broad framework of ‘socially acceptable or not.’ For example, I’m well aware that making physical contact with someone without consent isn’t acceptable. Or that stating blunt facts in a way that implicates someone negatively isn’t allowed. I know to avoid interrupting others if they’re already talking, to not walk away when I’m in the middle of a conversation. Crying, being unusually quiet and frowning indicates sadness. Someone smiling at laughing at what you’re saying means they probably are enjoying their time with you. An increase in speaking volume indicates excitement- either positive or negative. Sarcasm is often indicated by someone saying something absurd that you know they would never say, or you know to be factually wrong.

The fact that I had learned these broad rules made me think autism wasn’t a possibility for me. But being autistic doesn’t stop you from obtaining and applying information. (I mean that’s why so many interventions that ‘treat’ autism do result in the autistic person being able to pass as neurotypical.)

The difference comes from lacking the subconscious nuances and exceptions that come with those broader rules. For example- when is it okay to actually be honest? Some people will not be bothered by physical intimacy- but how would I know this? How can you tell if a group wants you to join in with their conversation? How to tell if this person is smiling and laughing politely or genuinely? How to tell if someone who you know very little about is being sarcastic?

There are not direct, easy to apply ‘rules’ for this, and yet clearly there are ‘right’ options. When the appropriate reaction must be determined by subtle body language or small shifts in tone of voice, ones that are near impossible to teach- I become completely lost.

That’s something I always find lacking with the general social skills advice given. It’s helpful to a point, but the truth is everyone is an individual. People express themselves differently, and react to your same actions differently due to past circumstances or temperaments. There is no one set of rules you can use for everyone, unfortunately. The majority of neurotypicals, while of course having miscommunications and the like, can rely on their subconscious to parse out any subtle changes they might need to make to their demeanor for a particular situation. My brain is much less adept at focusing down broader experience/rules into unique circumstances. (This is actually something that extends past social cues for me and I might make another post talking about it because I think it’s interesting)

Anyway rant over but yeah this was a huge mental barrier to seeking out a diagnosis for a while because at some level I ( ironically enough) took struggling to understand social cues too literally…

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

🍬📚?

📚 What's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

I almost NEVER take fanfic notes on my phone, I am physically incapable of typing anything even remotely legible on a touch screen and will probably find a way to take physical notes if I don't have my laptop available - BUT. I did write this whole dialogue on my phone on the bus, so I actually have an answer for once!

🍬 Post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

Y'all are making Cassian way too good at sex. There. How's that for controversial 🫣

(For real though, I understand why. I do. But he simply would not be. I know Andor for some reason is hell-bent on making him some kind of womaniser, but that just seems so off to me. Yeah he's a spy but not in a James Bond kind of way - most spies don't sleep their way to information, and yeah, maybe sex can play a role in how you recruit people, but I can't imagine it's a great method. Because you'd have to keep coming back to keep that asset interested, which is a terrible use of resources, and if you fuck it up in any way, you might turn your informant against you for a reason as stupid as "wasn't here to give a blowjob when I needed it". And regardless of whether or not he would have learned to use sex for espionage, that still wouldn't necessarily translate to his private sex life. This is a guy who's had every impulse to make true connections and any impulse to do anything purely because he wanted it systematically trained out of him, and hasn't been able to share his private thoughts and feelings with anyone other than a droid who cannot fully empathise with them. He also can't talk to almost anyone about what he does anyway because he's a high ranking spy, and he's very careful about his job. I don't see him having flings with other rebels purely because he'd worry that he might accidentally give someone info they should not have. So this is a long-winded way of saying that, even aside of my headcanon of Cassian as somewhere on the ace spectrum, I don't see where he would have got a lot of sexual experience and I can't really imagine he could put his hypervigilance down long enough to actually enjoy himself, at least not without drugs or therapy. [Obviously this is mostly true for in-universe, but. Honestly there's a point at which it will strike me as ooc in modern aus, too.])

Writers Truth or Dare!

[salty-savanah]

Shitty Poetry

Dependent Differences

Its almost funny the way I can watch the distaste wash over your features while mine stay the same.

I can physically see you racking your mind on why I’m no longer there. The burnt of it, the cleaner, the maid, the woman, the giver.

The giving tree if you will do be the poetic kindness.

The person that you became dependent on to take the heavy load, and for what? The need to not have bruised shoulders and calloused hands like mine?

Now I am resolved. I am content and aware, and that’s one of the things I know you can’t fucking stand.

How I can look at you and your damaged bullshit and see right through it.

I can pinpoint the pain, source, cause, and continuous contribution to hereditary patterns and unjustified objectivity, while you can’t even see the shadow flick of mine.

My question is how in the fuck is that my fault?

The fact you never put in the effort to analyze my every move.

How I took my pain, hatred, and resolve turned it into a salve to rub in my wounds with the power of gunpowder infused. Don’t blame me for the lengths of my contentment.

It was a mere part of your life the distaste you may view yourself, but it was my entire life.

I had to memorize the sound of your footsteps, what time you got home at, how quickly I needed to clean the house, bathe my siblings, eat my dinner, speak, move, breathe, blink.

All of it, I did in hopes of pleasing someone who only viewed me as the necessity.

The regular, the ordinary, the incapable, the mentally deficient.

The person made from your womb just to clean up the messes of the others you pour out.

Now I sit here with you there and I am everything.

I am everything to myself and my tribe of chosen brothers and sisters.

I have thrown my soul into a cast iron fucking sleeve and built my birthday suit around it, can’t you see?

I’m fucking shimmering.

This is my brotherhood. I’ve claimed it long ago, can’t you see?

How you never even had your venom in me in the first place, now all I have are scars of so called retribution.

I’ve made my peace, I’ve spoken my guilt, I’ve demolished my problems with a hand of Odin and accepted myself with the wrath and beauty of Hel.

You, what have you done in comparison to me?

You have taken, eaten, beaten, tormented, and abused little girls as a little girl yourself and again for what? The feeling of satisfaction of making something smaller than you fucking cower?

I do not need your apology, I can see how easy it left your tongue, a manufactured script you probably chanted to yourself to convince yourself of the truth.

No, now I want your recognition. Look at these fucking scars, look down at how deep they go and how they match your manicure of encrusted jewels.

You wouldn’t be able to handle the things I’d have to say, compared to what you’ve already said do you really think I wasn’t rehearsing?

Now do you see the difference?

I am not you, I changed for the better, for the yearning of being good. For being fucking great.

You changed in spite of me. How malicious did you need to be back then to do the things you did?

I was a baby. I came from your own life force, I breathed your air, my spirit was conjured in you generations before my birth, so why?

Why couldn’t we have both changed for the better?

Now we both sit here, racking our minds on why we actually hate each other, making up reasons and sling shooting them at each other just to find the next malicious reason.

But I never hated you.

I like to think you never hated me.

But that is what the difference between you and me is, I wanted something I never had.

And you wanted to create something with the thing you already had.

[jodjuya]

I'm aware that one of my most-developed skills is using words, which means that I can use words to talk about how good I use words, so therefore this ability is not inherently indicative that my intelligence is faultless across all domains of human knowledge; my ego is not *that* over-inflated.

I'm exactly the same as chatGPT in that regard. Ability to bullshit is not proof that I know anything and am an unquestionable authority figure on whatever I'm talking about. It's only proof that I'm good at bullshitting (and probably therefore do actually know what I'm talking about, because all the best bullshitting is grown from truth, and because you know me and my reputation for valuing truth and earnest honesty and other such pro-social behaviours, so therefore my words are safe to take at face value [or they're not safe to take at face value because, contextually, incorrect words were intentionally used for dramatic irony or mocking sarcasm or what have you])

& this is why you fundamentally can *NOT* trust a single damn thing chatCPT says, ditto for any other large-language model generative AI in the same vein. Because those chat bots are extremely good at bullshitting, but are (currently) literally incapable of valuing prosocial ideals, even from the absolute bedrock-level fundamental basics of:

we implicitly agree to speak from a frame of reference which is exclusively confined to observable reality. If we say things that do not conform to observable reality, including the laws of causality; these statements are classed as being 'incorrect', unless explicitly delineated to some other frame of reference (an "error", a "Fictitious" or "hypothetical" situation, a "deception", and so on)

But these AIs don't contain a model of observable reality inside them. They don't know what any things are, let alone what the truth is, let alone that you're "supposed to" tell the truth when you're conversing with someone (unless you're intentionally not telling the truth for the purposes of entertainment or coercion or whatever; because you do actually know what the truth is, but you're selectively saying otherwise to fulfil a specific intention)

I find it helpful to simply think of them like they're literally the fey

Something sinister lurking out of sight and perfectly mimicking a human voice to lure you over the borders of rational thought and info the enchanted forest.

Not in the same way that a fellow human being would do it, if they were to lurk out of sight and perfectly mimic somebody else's voice to lure you into a trap. When a human does this to you, they would do it for A REASON, they're trying to accomplish a specific goal using a specific plan which entails luring people into the forest by mimicking a human voice. That's knowable, that's comprehensible.

It's impossible to know why an AI is saying the things it is saying. It's just a rock that's been enchanted to grow a human mouth which babbles unceasingly.

The spell has no intentions, it has no awareness; let alone self-awareness—the ability to tell the difference between itself and things that are not itself. There's no magic brain connected up to it and "thinking" about what to say, so it is impossible for it to have intentions behind what it says; it's not telling the truth to be helpful and friendly and honest.

It is literally physically impossible for it to be honest, in fact! To be "honest" you have to *know* what observable reality *is*, so that you can *intentionally* make your statements conform to that! And much like Jon Snow, this AI knows nothing!

It is just a magic mouth sprouting out of the side of a pet rock that somebody glued plastic googly-eyes to. 👁️👄👁️

Just a magic mouth babbling away confidently, because of a magic spell which makes it do mouth-sounds for no reason and not because of a magic spell which put a brain inside the rock and made it come alive and have opinions about things.

It's just a piece of rock. Rocks don't have opinions about things.

Yes, no matter how many invisibly-tiny runes you infinitely carve all over the surface of the rock. It's still just a rock. And rocks aren't alive. And rocks don't think. And rocks don't hold opinions. And rocks don't have desires. This one just has a magic mouth sprouting out of it which talks a lot because of magic which makes it Do That.

So it can't be intentionally telling you the wrong thing either, for reasons of malice or hostility or deception or pranks or whatever other reason.

Because, again, it's just a rock. Rocks don't have options or reasons or hostility in them.

(Yes, even the Cursed Rocks, like Facebook or Twitter or whatever. The curse is actually from the pattern of runes on the surface of the rock, and the way people use those runes to inflict or magnify harm. The rock itself underneath the runes is just the substrate; it's not participating in having opinions about you.)

So sometimes the magic mouth says true correct helpful things and sometimes it says flat out wrong things and sometimes it says harmfully wrong things, and it doesn't know or care which it's being, it just keeps right on babbling away confidently incorrect.

Because it's just a rock that can talk because some fairy thought it would be really funny to mess with humans by luring them with nothing more than a rock that magically talks like them (and as a technical challenge, to stretch the boundaries of submicroscopic fractal rune carving and make a magic mouth spell that mimics the human voice as perfectly as this one does).

There is zero reason for you to trust it. That is merely the fey taking advantage of your DNA's built-in pro-social inclinations. A day zero exploit over human beings' default assumptions that:

[talking]==[person]==[trustworthy]

[yasashihanyou]

THE LAYERS OF ONES SELF.

REPOST, DON’T REBLOG!!

LAYER  001 :   THE  OUTSIDE.

NAME -   Sora .

EYE COLOR -  Chocolate brown .

HAIR STYLE / COLOR -  Dark black in colour ; very long, reaches past his mid-back, long side & front bangs as well .

HEIGHT -   5��11″ ( he’s gotten taller ^w^ ).

CLOTHING  STYLE -  He’s switched into a more modern style of clothing.

BEST  PHYSICAL  FEATURE -  His eyes, probably because of how gentle they can look . That or his smile .

LAYER  002 :   THE  INSIDE.

FEARS - People dying ; losing faith in others ; being forgotten ; being abandoned ; losing control ; failing ; not being good enough ; not being smart enough ; being judged ; being ignored .

GUILTY  PLEASURE - Violence .

BIGGEST  PET  PEEVE - Being called a hanyou ; being called a defect ; bullying of any kind ; being pre-judged ; people assuming things about him ; being treated like he’s some incapable & purely innocent kid ( sora is nice and patient , but he doesn’t like being infantilized ) .

AMBITIONS  FOR  THE  FUTURE -  Ensuring peace & stability for everyone ; all the worlds & all the people Sora’s met along the way .

LAYER  003 :   THOUGHTS.

FIRST  THOUGHTS  WAKING  UP -  “Sure am hungry , wonder what I should have for breakfast? I hope everyone slept well last night . ”

THINKS  ABOUT  MOST -  “What can I do to help? What if I can’t do anything? Am I really able to do this? I have to try. I have to believe.”

THINKS  ABOUT  BEFORE  BED -  “I hope I did my best today.”

WHAT  THEY THINK  THEIR  BEST  QUALITY  IS -  He’s too humble to really say so nowadays but Sora honestly thinks his best quality is his ability to believe in others . Even if he struggles with self-belief , he’s almost stubborn in his inability to give up on other people due to his own experiences with being abandoned & watching his other selves ( kazama & asahi primarily ) suffering and causing each other agony .

LAYER  004 :   WHAT’S  BETTER ?

SINGLE  OR  GROUP  DATES -  Sora’s never been on a date but he thinks single dates would be nice ! Groups are fun , but he’d want to devote his time solely to his significant other :3

TO  BE  LOVED  OR  RESPECTED -  Both naturally !

BEAUTY  OR  BRAINS -  Someone’s heart .

DOGS  OR  CATS -  Cats cats caaaats !! ᨐᵉᵒʷ

LAYER  005 :   DO  THEY…

LIE - He used to lie a lot ; to himself, to others primarily out of fear of being abandoned or bullied or mocked . Nowadays , Sora’s almost too honest and open-hearted . Not to the point of naivety ( even if he plays that up a bit ) , but more-so because he has a fear of giving up on others the way he himself had been given up on time & time again . Sora does his best to be upfront with people , even if the truth is sometimes tough . Still , he does know when to be patient and tasteful with his honesty .

BELIEVE  IN  THEMSELVES - This is a mixed bag ; Sora doesn’t consciously realize it , but he’s gotten pretty good at believing in himself . The years of bullying & neglect and abuse are still there and haven’t gone away , but lately he’s been able to acknowledge that on some level and keep going . So while he believes in himself , it isn’t out of any conscious effort on Sora’s part? He’s just living life & tends to power through whatever that brings!

BELIEVE  IN  LOVE -  Yes ; Sora wants so desperately to believe in the goodness of others ; in the light in other people . He always has, which is why all that bullying & abuse hit him particularly hard & why he spiralled due to it . His mother believed in her love for Inuyasha so much that she sacrificed herself for him & that can’t have been wrong .

WANT  SOMEONE -  Maaaaaybe .

LAYER  006 :   HAVE  THEY  EVER…

BEEN  ON  STAGE -  I think he’s probably gotten roped up into doing a drama for the school Michiru , Kagome , Usagi attend because he just couldn’t say no to helping out with a school festival last minute . I’m sure Sora was nervous but ultimately had a lot of fun!!

DONE  DRUGS -  Nah .

GOTTEN  DRUNK -  Once , he doesn’t drink actively nowadays but won’t turn down a good drink if it means being socially polite .

CHANGED  WHO  THEY  WERE  TO  FIT  IN -  Yup yup yuuup! He did this a lot when he was younger & on some level he forced himself to again when he started being kinder and more gentle after changing his name to Sora . Not to say that the way Sora acts now is faked ; it isn’t , but some days are harder than others to keep up that happiness and that positivity .

LAYER  007 :   FAVORITES.

FAVORITE COLOR -  Yellow , pink , orange , brown , blue .

FAVORITE  ANIMAL -   Cats & also birds .

FAVORITE  MOVIE -  Sora loves the movie ‘ The Fox & The Hound ’ .

FAVORITE  GAME -  Probably hide & seek . Or tag .

LAYER  008 :   SLEEP.

HEAVY  OR  LIGHT  SLEEPER -  Light ; although Sora feigns heavy sleep , he’s had to learn to keep an eye & ear out constantly in case of danger . Old habits die hard ; but once he’s comfortable in a setting or a place then he’s out like a light .

WHAT  SIDE  OF  THE  BED  DO  THEY  SLEEP  ON -  Mostly on the right-hand side or whichever side is closest to the wall if it’s near one . Elsewise Sora’s usually sleeping on his side or his stomach .

WHAT  DO  THEY  WEAR  TO  BED - Loose fitting short sleeved t-shirts & sweatpants . Sockless because Sora’s feet sweat no matter the weather .

WEIRD  THINGS  THEY  DO  IN  THEIR  SLEEP - He tosses some nights , due to worries or nightmares . He’ll also talk in his sleep at points .

LAYER  009 :   LOVE.

BIG  DECLARATIONS  OR  SMALL - Small ; it’s the little gestures and kindness that means the most, to Sora . The cherished fond memories . He’d much rather kiss someone on the forehead or hold their hand , than shout to the world that he loved them . Besides , that kind of thing is private .

OPEN  OR  CLOSED  OFF -  Open . He might be shy about it at first & giddy due to nerves but once Sora’s comfy then he isn’t at all worried about being affectionate with the one he loves ; expect him to hug constantly , to want kisses , to go on romantic dates , to stare and smile like a big doofus!

LOVE  AT  FIRST  SIGHT  OR  SLOW  BURN -  Slow burn ; Sora’s kind of oblivious to feeling crushes or romantic affections tbh . He cares very very deeply for every single one of his friends for various reasons, so it can be difficult for him to recognise that difference between platonic and romantic love .

ONE  TRUE  LOVE  OR  A  STRING - One true love ; although this varies depending on verse .

LAYER  010 :   FINISH  THE  SENTENCE.

I  LOVE -  The world .

I  FEEL -  Happy , excited yet scared .

I  HIDE -  a lot , but I promise I’ll be fine .

I  MISS -  my mother .

I  WISH -  for true peace and happiness for everyone .

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-One

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.

***

The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?

The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.

By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.

Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.

Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.

“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”

Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”

“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.

“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.

Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.

Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.

“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”

As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.

Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.

Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.

“What?”

“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.

“I agree, but—”

Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”

Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”

He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.

Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”

He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.

Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.

***

Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.

“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”

“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”

When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.

Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.

Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.

“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”

“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”

“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.

“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”

A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.

“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”

Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.

Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”

“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”

“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”

“Guys!” Nesta snaps.

Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”

Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”

“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”

Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”

“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.

“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”

“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”

“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.

“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”

“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”

“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.

Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”

“But it’s what he’ll think.”

“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.

Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”

“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”

“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”

Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.

“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”

Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.

Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”

Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”

“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”

Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”

“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”

“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.

There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”

Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.

In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.

When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.

“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.

“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.

A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”

Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.

Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”

“I can hear you,” Azriel says.

“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”

“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.

“So can I,” Emerie nods.

“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”

Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”

“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”

She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”

“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”

Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”

She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.

God, having friends sucks.

Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”

***

Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.

Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”

“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.

“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.

“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”

“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.

“What tone?” Cassian repeats.

Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”

“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”

“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.

“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”

She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”

But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?

He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.

Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.

Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.

“What are you doing?” Nesta says.

“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”

Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.

Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.

“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.

Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”

“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”

Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”

Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.

Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”

Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.

Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.

Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.

“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”

Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.

“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.

“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.

Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”

Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.

When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.

Az starts, “What a fake little—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”

Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.

“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.

Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.

“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”

Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”

Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”

He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.

“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.

“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.

Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.

“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.

“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.

“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.

Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.

Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”

Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”

Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”

Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”

Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”

“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”

That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.

Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.

God, sometimes having friends sucks.

***

a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland

[betweenthepages]

The Cure: Chapter 1

Summary: You get outed to your parents and it doesn’t go so well. But at least you have Jess Mariano.

Word count: 2370

⚠️Warnings⚠️: homophobia, homophobic violence

“Mom? Dad?” You called out, stepping into the silence of your home. You entered the living room and was met with the sight of both your parents seated on the couch. Your father’s gaze fixated on the floor with his hands clasped in front of him, lips drawn in a thin line. Your mother lifted her head in acknowledgment. The TV was off, no conversation being exchanged. Idleness hung in the atmosphere. “What’s going on?” You frowned. “Sit down, (Y/N).” Nervousness bubbled in your chest as you sat across from them. “Did I do something?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

Your dad’s eyes locked with yours. “Are you gay?” The question was completely unexpected. Your eyes widened in confusion. Sweat moistened your palms. “Am I- what?”

“Are. You. Gay. With that Mariano boy?” He gritted his teeth, his voice low to the point of growling. Your muscles tensed and you quickly debated coming clean or denying it. They wouldn’t be too pleased with the knowledge that you liked other boys, especially Jess. Heck you weren’t even allowed to be friends with him. You knew you couldn’t hide it forever. You were planning to let them know once you moved out and were no longer reliant on them. Perhaps deception would work, for now.

“No?” you put on your best act of confusion, “Where are you getting this from?” Your mother whipped her head towards you, eyes filled with a darkness that was completely unfamiliar. Your dad’s face reddened, fists clenched and visibly shaking. Fear clouded your senses. “What are these, then?” Your mother placed some pictures on the coffee table. Pictures of you and Jess. Holding hands and kissing. Your heart sunk to your stomach. “W-Where did you get these...?” Your voice was shaky from restraining tears. “They were left in our mailbox this morning, no envelope or name. How can you explain this (Y/N)?” Your mom scowled. Your throat went dry. Who would do this to you? Who hated you this much? Well, it didn’t matter who had done it, because there was no way to cover it up.

“It’s true, okay? I’m gay, I’ve been seeing Jess for-” You were cut off by a stinging pain on your cheek and a sharp sound echoing the room. Your father loomed over you, nostrils flaring and looking at you with pure hatred. You cowered in his shadow. “I did not raise a gay son! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! All those years of giving you a good life and a roof over your head for nothing! Disgraceful.” You whimpered as he fisted your hair painfully and reared your head back to look up at him. “You are not my son.” He spat. In quick seconds your body painfully collided with the coffee table, pain shooting up your abdomen. You barely had time to catch a breath before you were yanked up and slammed against the wall. Rough, calloused hands, pressing against your windpipe. You squirmed in an useless attempt to flee. Your chest tightened painfully. Your head felt light. You wanted Jess. He would hold you and protect you and take you away from this pain. Black spots dotted your vision and you thought ‘this is it. I’m going to die.’ Seconds before you passed out, the hands removed themselves and you collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath. You cherished the temporary relief of having oxygen in your lungs while it lasted. You were kicked down into a lying position, your father’s heel coming in contact with area that hit the table. Tears cascaded down your swollen cheeks as you curled into yourself. The blows kept coming. You just shut your eyes and took it, holding onto hope that it would end eventually. By the time your dad finally took his foot away, your body was at it’s breaking point. Every breath came with immense pain. Bruises, scrapes and cuts blemished your skin. “You’re going to get up,” your father spoke, “and get the fuck out of my house.” You briefly glanced to your mother standing in the corner, staring at you intently. Her expression was unreadable, but she voiced no protest. You were in no state to be able to pack your belongings. Hopefully you’d be able to return and collect them. Or maybe your parents would destroy them. Right now, it wasn’t your concern. Your dad left to the kitchen, probably to get a beer, and your mother followed suit. Mustering the last ounce of strength you had, you crawled to the front door. With every movement your muscles ached. Holding onto the wall for balance, you carefully rose to your feet. Only grabbing your phone and jacket, you exited onto the pitch black streets.

You limped in the direction of Luke’s Diner, but gave up after a block. You were physically incapable of covering the distance. You quickly dialled Jess’s number, tears blurring your vision. It rang once. Twice. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breathing grew heavy. You felt a panic attack oncoming and you needed to hear Jess’s voice. Please pick up, please pick up. “(Y/N)?” Jess said across the line, voice thick with sleep. “Jess...” you whimpered, words getting caught in your throat. “(Y/N) what’s up? It’s late.”

“I-I need you. I need help. It hurts, Jess.”

“What hurts? What happened?” He was awake now, and seemingly alarmed. “I need an ambulance,” you glanced at the street sign, “I’m on Peach Street. Call them and get here, p-please.” Staying conscious was becoming a struggle. “Okay, okay hold on I’ll make the call.” Jess quickly switched lines and you leaned against the wall, waiting. Watching the stars kept you occupied. You were about to close your eyes until the blaring of a siren approached. You could vaguely recognise a car following behind it. As it neared, you recognised it as Luke’s pick up truck. You couldn’t see Jess’s face, but knowing that he came provided some relief. Jess got to you before the paramedics did. Warm hands cupped your battered face and soft caresses ghosted your skin. . “(Y/N), god what happened?” You chuckled bitterly. “Mom and dad found out about us. I’ll explain later. It didn’t go so well though.” You clutched your side. Talking was painful. Jess was about to say something but the paramedics told him to back away so they could load you into a stretcher. “Sir? Sir try to stay awake please.” Said a female paramedic as your eyelids drooped. Jess was out of your vision, but you could make out his voice shouting over them, asking to come on the ambulance. Of course that privilege wouldn’t be extended to non-family. Luke told him to buckle up and he’ll drive them there. You were exhausted, and the pain in your body was unbearable. Your allowed your eyes to shut, darkness replacing the blinding ambulance lights.

Jess and Luke sat in the waiting room, anxiously awaiting news about your condition. Jess’s leg was shaking and he seemed distanced in his thoughts. He had told Luke on the way that this had something to do with your parents. He’s had his fair share of beatings from Liz’s boyfriends, but he was struck with disbelief knowing someone could cause this much damage to their own child. The doctor emerged. “How is he?” Luke asked. “He has 3 broken ribs, internal bleeding, several deep cuts, contusions and a dislocated jaw. But he’s no longer in critical condition. It’s good we got to him when we did, or it may have been too late.” Jess‘s eyes widened and his blood ran cold. Luke thanked the doctor and bid him goodbye, then focused his attention on his distressed nephew. “T-They almost killed him...” Jess whispered, eyes widened and watery. Luke sighed, pulling the boy into a side hug. In truth, he was just as worried as your boyfriend was. He was accepting your relationship and cared for you. Ever since you’d come into Jess’s life, his immature ways and short temper had ceased. His school attendance went up as well as his grades. The sarcastic remarks and witty insults weren’t going away anytime soon, but Luke knew there was a mutual love between him and his nephew. And he knew you meant the absolute world to Jess. “You heard the doctors. He’ll be okay. He’s strong.” He rubbed the teen’s shoulder in consolation.

Patients and visitors entered and exited the hospital doors while Luke and Jess sat in silence. The clock was about to strike 1am yet they were more awake than ever. Jess hadn’t particularly liked your parents previously, but now his hatred for them ran deep. Upon his first arrival to Stars Hollow, they had advised you to keep your distance because word of his troublemaking antics spread fast. But you with your sweet, kind soul was willing to give him a chance.

A nurse approached them. “(Y/N) (L/N) is awake. You can see him now.” Jess bounded to his feet, swiftly stepping to your room without waiting for Luke to follow. He paused abruptly at your door and took a breath. Your head turned at the sound of the door slowly creaking open. Jess stepped in, and a feeling of warmth evaded your body despite the chill of the hospital room. You shifted to make room for him on the bed. Without a word, he embraced you. Careful not to hurt you, he rested his head on your shoulder, and the cloth of the gown dampened. “Jess.” You cooed, rubbing his back. “I almost lost you...” he mumbled. “I-It’s okay. I’m not okay, but I will be. The hospital staff are doing their best.” You attempted a smile but it hurt your face. Jess pulled away with a sigh, calloused hand cupping your cheek. “I want to know what happened. Not now, if you don’t feel like it. When you’re ready.”

“Well, I got home and my mom showed these pictures someone took of us kissing. She said they were left in the mailbox by an anonymous. I told them that I’m gay and that we’re dating, and... yeah.” You averted your gaze to you and Jess’s intertwined hands, playing with his fingers. Jess furrowed his brows. “Why would anybody-” You cut him off. “I don’t care about that now Jess. It’s all so much, I’m gonna see a social worker and the police, I don’t know where I’m going to live, people are gonna talk about what happened. Plus I’m tired and everything’s sore.” You felt like crying again before Jess shushed you, carding his hands through your hair and kissing your cheek. “Hey hey, (Y/N) I’m sorry. Calm down.” He readjusted to a laying position and carefully guided you into laying down on top of him, using his toned chest as a pillow. “I love you. So much. We can figure everything out later, just get some sleep. It’s almost midnight.”

“I want you to stay and be there when I wake up.” You said. “Okay.” Jess smiled. There was a cough, you both turned to see Luke in the doorway. “Well, I’ll leave you guys alone and uh, Jess I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.” He nodded, “Goodnight (Y/N), call me if you need anything.” You smiled at him and bid your goodbyes, before it was back to just you and your boyfriend. Jess leaned over to turn off the light. “I love you, Jess.” You said into the darkness. He responded with a long kiss to your forehead.

Jess woke up first. The hospital staff hadn’t arrived yet, so he wouldn’t get in trouble. He pressed light kisses on your forehead until your eyes fluttered open. “Morning.” He smirked. “Morning,” you grumbled, nuzzling into him. “What’s going on today?” He asked. “I explained the cause of my injuries to the doctor and now I’ve got to talk to the authorities. Then I’m seeing a social worker and doing some paperwork.”

“Where you going to stay?” Jess asked softly.

“If my parents get arrested then I’ll probably get sent to a foster home.” You sighed. “Is that what you want?” Jess frowned. “No, not at all. I mean, no way I’m living with my parents again, but also idea the of going with strangers...” you trailed off, focusing on drawing shapes on his chest. “Move into the diner.” Jess said without no hesitation. “Jess you know I can’t-”

“Yes you can! Really (Y/N), we can talk to Luke about it.”

“Talk to me about what?” Luke stood in the doorway wearing a questioning expression. “Sorry, I was going to knock but I overheard my name.” He chuckled. “Can (Y/N) stay with us?” Jess asked. “Jess no-“

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” Luke shrugged. “I- what?” You turned to Luke in shock. “We can make that arrangement, if that’s what you want (Y/N). You’re at the diner most of the time anyways.” It was true. You always stayed over with Jess and had dates at the diner to keep your relationship discreet. “Well yes, but being a permanent occupant is completely different.” You frowned. “Hey kid, your parents are real shitty people. This is a hard time for you. I have a feeling you don’t want to end up in the foster care system, so this is one less problem to deal with.” He said.

Jess spoke up, “(Y/N), I’m okay with it, and Luke is okay with it. So why the hell not?” You felt like crying again. You practically pounced on Jess babbling a string of ‘thank you’s and peppering kisses on his face in between. He laughed heartily, rubbing your back. Luke observed with a tender smile. “Thank you Luke, really.”

“No problem kid.” He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to seem as less threatening as possible. “Jess and I have to go, the staff are gonna be here any minute. But rest up okay?” You nodded. Jess really didn’t want to leave, you assured him visiting hours were long and regular. Eventually he pulled away and you shared one last kiss before he was out of sight.

[ghirahimbo]

beginnings

a non-specific take on how the Link and Ghirahim master/sword AU might come about. I probably won't post this one to ao3 yet in case I decide to use it in a story someday, but I liked it enough to put it here, at least :)

--

In the Sealed Grounds where the demon hordes had trampled the earth so recently in their violent rampage, the transition to silence was complete. The whistling chirp of birds, the buzz of insects… even the wind through the trees had gone deathly still, all caught up in breathless waiting. Only the pool of inky darkness at the center of Demise's broken prison seemed to breathe, pulsing slowly in and out with uneasy life. Small though it was compared to the spiraling pit containing it, the darkness pulled at the cloud-covered twilight as if its strength alone might dim it. Consume it.

At last, the dark pool recoiled in agitation, and from its churning depths emerged a boy in a green knight’s tunic that had certainly known more pristine days. Bloodied and bruised, yet swaying triumphantly as if standing itself was a triumph, Link stumbled out of the pit’s embrace, adjusting his wet hat to fit more firmly over the mess of hair still dripping from his watery battlefield. The sky above seemed to captivate him, and he craned his head back to stare at the darkened clouds, half in wonder, half in disbelief. Then the hilt of his sword flashed, and a shimmering blue woman emerged to float in front of him.

“Master,” she said, catching his attention. “With the defeat of the demon king Demise, there is a 95% chance that your friend Zelda has already regained consciousness.” Her voice softened almost imperceptibly. “I believe I can say with 100% certainty that she would like to know you are well.”

Link stared at her for another moment, scrubbing a hand over his mouth.

“Of course,” he murmured, and for the first time, he grinned. “Let’s go.”

Strengthened by his anticipation, Link broke into a limping run, eager to put the forsaken pit behind him—but before he could take more than a few steps, a new voice froze him in his tracks.

“Wait.”

Heart sinking like a rock, Link whirled around, one hand hovering warily over the hilt of his sword as a new figure emerged from the retreating darkness. Ghirahim’s skin glimmered like polished obsidian in the fading light, smooth and unmarred except for where fiery cracks split his chest, and a glowing diamond at its center pulsed an erratic, angry red. Cradled against his shattered core was an enormous black sword, its sharp edge not even scratching the skin where it rested against Ghirahim’s hardened arms.

Milky white eyes met tired blue in a silent clash, as if neither had the strength necessary to put words to their feud. Then, without warning, Ghirahim hefted his sword, driving it point first into the softened earth and falling to one knee before it.

“Take it.”

Link blinked, and took a wary step back.

“…What?”

“Take it.” Despite his clear exhaustion, Ghirahim’s voice had that same teasing bite to it as always, coupled now with impatience as he gestured towards the sword. “You defeated my old master Demise, which means his sword is yours to claim. Take it.”

Link stared at him, dumbfounded, and a slow smile curved across Ghirahim’s thin dark lips.

“Let me put it this way,” he said pleasantly. “This sword belongs to you whether you wish it so or not, but things will go much more… smoothly… if you take it now.”

Link shook his head as if to dismiss the notion, fixing Ghirahim with a glare.

“I already have a sword,” he said coldly, starting to turn aside, but this time a light chime from Fi made him stop.

“Master Link,” she said, her cool voice strangely gentle. “I’m afraid that I was not created to remain by your side forever. The demon king’s remaining essence is now sealed within my sword, to be carefully guarded until it is eradicated. The time of our parting will be soon.” She hesitated, and added, “Very soon.”

The first drops of rain began to fall, scattered and sparse. Link stared at Fi incredulously.

“You’re not saying I should trust him,” he said, not really a question, and Fi shook her head.

“Such judgments are not mine to make. I can only report that I sense no immediate intent to do harm from Lord Ghirahim, though whether he hopes to deceive you is less clear. Any further statements would be mere conjecture on my part.”

“Would you mind conjecting then?” Link asked, pursing his lips. After a moment, Fi nodded.

“Master Link…” Her words came with slow reluctance now. “Despite the foreordination of our partnership, I was still given the privilege of choosing you as my master. If what Ghirahim says is true and his sword has passed ownership from the demon king to you, I must surmise that he was not granted that same privilege of choosing Demise.”

“If what he says is true,” Link repeated, sparing another glare for the still-kneeling demon lord. Ghirahim had so far watched their exchange in enigmatic silence, not quite smiling, though he half raised an eyebrow at Link’s scowl. The steadily increasing rain slithered unnoticed in rivulets down his face, striking against his arms with short, metallic plinks.

“I stated that I could not discern whether he hopes to deceive you in some way, and this is true. However…” She paused in consideration. “I do sense a newfound connection between you and that sword, as well as between you and Lord Ghirahim himself. My opinion is that he is telling the truth, in this regard, at least.”

Link stared at her in dismay, and Ghirahim laughed softly.

“Your robotic guide is right, I’m afraid," he murmured. "I’ll have you know that you were not my first choice either, but I think we both know better than most how little control we have over the whims of destiny. Never in this sword’s history has it passed to a human, but it appears our thread of fate has some twists that even I could not predict.”

“There is no thread—“ Link started to say hotly, but let it go with a sigh. Even he could see how pointless finishing that sentence would be. “I suppose you come with the sword, then?”

“I am the sword,” Ghirahim said, his pale eyes glittering. Link paused only a second before nodding. After bearing Fi for so long, he understood how that worked, at least.

“If…” Link took a deep breath, glancing again at Fi. “If I take you with me… what’s to stop you from trying to kill me still?”

“I am physically incapable now of even harming you,” he said, and Link’s eyebrows shot up. A possibility much easier to disprove than prove, but…

“What about Zelda?” he demanded, and Ghirahim’s grin widened.

“On your orders, I would go so far as to guard her from harm, and catch her each time she stumbles,” he said smoothly. Link’s face darkened.

“What about—“

“Master, must we really go through every order that I will or will not obey?” Ghirahim cut him off irritably. “I will obey them all, insofar as I am able. Was it not the same with…?”

He gestured vaguely towards Fi, who looked at him.

“Fi is the designation I was given,” she said, prompting a tight grin.

“Wonderful! I didn’t need or desire to know that.”

“Wait,” Link interjected, his mind spinning slightly. “...You called me master.”

“Is he this slow all the time?” Ghirahim asked Fi incredulously. “How do you put up with it?”

Link let the insult slide, still reeling as he tried to gather his thoughts. Would Ghirahim really debase himself so far just for a chance at revenge? There were other, easier ways to go about it if that was his aim, ways involving less personal humiliation. Fi thought he was telling the truth—about some things, at least—which maybe meant…

“What am I supposed to do with that sword, anyway?” Link said abruptly. “It’s too big for me to even…”

The protest died in Link’s throat as for the first time he really looked at the sword, and licked his lips. Without his noticing, the sword had shrunk in size, though it managed to appear no less menacing despite that. If Link were to hold up his Master Sword in comparison, he doubted that there would be a hair’s difference in length.

“I told you,” Ghirahim said, and Link had to fight down a shiver that he told himself was from the rain. “My sword belongs to you now, Link. Take it.”

Once more he looked at Fi, silently questioning, but if she had an opinion on the matter her blank face gave no voice to it.

“Zelda is waiting for you,” was all she said… and somehow, that was enough.

“Fine,” Link sighed reluctantly. He didn't want to find out at that moment how Ghirahim might try to force him if he refused, and Fi was right. It was time to go. “I accept your sword.”

Trudging forward, Link grabbed it by the hilt, thinking that if worse came to worst, he could still throw it off a cliff somewhere—and felt a terribly familiar warmth surge through his palms as he pulled it free, traveling up his arms to settle somewhere in his chest. A tightness fell from Ghirahim’s face that Link hadn’t noticed until that moment, and he bowed his head forward, pressing a hand delicately against his mangled chest.

“The bonding process is now complete, master,” he said, and despite the formality of his words he had a mocking twist to his lips. “Link… my master.”

Thunder boomed overhead as lightning forked viciously across the sky, the rain falling down in sheets. Link, staring at his own black sword, noticed none of it.

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Ten

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it’s all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared, for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au ??? (at this point idek) angst, fluff, slice of life etc ?? word count :: 4k author note :: haha.... wowww it's been long since i last updated. honestly my physical and mental health have just been horrible... that's about it, i lost a lot of motivation but if you're still reading i am very thankful and i will try to deliver the story well. i tried my best but writing whilst sick is very tiresome :-) tags :: @patience-is-here​ , @chwlogy​ , @a--nonymousse​ , @imkumichan​ 

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Keeping yourself cooped up within Levi's estate and never daring to step a foot outside should have been what you had done. Blackmailing him to keep you confined within the walls of your bedroom would be much better compared to the problem you have to resolve now. Perhaps if you had done so you wouldn't have collided face first into this muddle.

Jean fiddles with the ends of his button up, he doesn't take the chance to glance up at any of his superiors. He's either much too embarrassed or has nothing noteworthy to start off with.

Erwin chooses to call the shots seeing as neither you or the Viscount by your side wish to begin.

"You both understand why we're here. Correct me if I'm wrong?" The Commander looks between you, Jean and your unfortunate excuse of a husband. Suddenly it looks as if the gears and cogs in Jean's brain move without warning.

Offering a demure nod you expect for him to follow in your footsteps and do the same only he stands there looking between you and Levi.

"Wait...The two of you are? A couple?" Stunned isn't the word, Jean's completely flabbergasted.

"If you figured that out this late, I do not understand why Erwin sees you remotely fit for my team." Levi's beyond insulted at the fact he's only just understood the situation.

Jean, now more intimidated than ever before straightens his back and coughs clumsily, "Sorry." He murmurs chestnut eyes making contact with the hardwood floors.

The Commander's laced hands sit atop his desk, elegant fingers moving similar to honey on a spoon. He sighs not out of fatigue but pride. Whatever plan he's come up with has to be decent at the very least, his body language is telling you that much.

"We have a number of possibilities we can choose from. We owe that pleasure to Mr Kirstein here." Erwin offers him an almost cynical smile, you can't help but gulp thinking about how this is essentially your fault. With all the constant training sessions and team building tasks it makes sense for Jean to have completely forgot about your unspoken rule. Solely blaming him is incorrect.

Raising your arm above your head to intervene you make it known that you're aware of Levi shooting you a look of warning by returning it. It's best he knows you don't care for anyone's opinion let alone his.

"Permission to speak Commander?"

Your request is agreed to immediately with the wave of  Erwin's hand.

"It's my fault for not reminding Jean. I'll take the blame, I hadn't even told him the full story concerning me and Levi."

Levi doesn't enjoy your defense in the slightest. "I don't expect my wife to fling herself at other men and allow for them to snoop around gathering the details of our personal lives."

Scoffing you shield yourself with your arms over your chest.

"Oh dear husband. If you want to get personal do tell me where my family is?" It's an inside joke only Levi will be able to understand.

"If you call those people family your standards are disgustingly low."

"Maybe that explains why I settled for you."

Again, other's opinions are not at the forefront of your priority list. Regardless it's quite enjoyable pushing Levi further into a corner with that sentence. You see the internal struggle play out within him. Jaw clenched, hands balled together. He doesn't have an appropriate response

Jean bursts out unable to hold it in any longer, chest trembling with every quake of laughter that ripples through him you have to shove him with your elbow. For a Viscount his etiquette sure is nonexistent.

"My word, the two of you sound like..."

Levi stares at him most probably expecting something along the lines of "An old married couple."

But, no. It's nothing anyone in the room expects. That includes you.

"It's as if you're unhappy with each other..."

Not a noise is made after that. Jean isn't mistaken, your heart is miserable. You've never had many relationships to begin with, whether it be familial, romantic or platonic and for someone such as your husband to treat you the way he does - it feels futile having to navigate around the complexities. Even if he isn't really your husband it's disappointing to reflect on your marriage so suddenly.

Feeling your face droop a little you bite your bottom lip with your teeth. Hearing the truth from someone you barely expect to hear it from has an effect on you.

You're so caught up analyzing everything it takes you a minute to even register Levi grumbling and lunging forward pilfering the collar of Jean's shirt.

"Every day you prove to be more and more pathetic than I expect." Levi turns to look at you after that. His stare bores into you but he doesn't come off threatening, you assume his last remark is directed solely at Jean.

When he turns back only glaring at Jean now with even more tenacity than before. He's ready to snap but Erwin has clearly had enough of the unwanted altercation in his office.

"Enough. The both of you. This is most bothersome." At the Commander's orders Levi is silenced although it takes all of his resolve to do so.

Finally bothering you take a good look at Jean. He's calm in an incredibly out of character way.

Is this not the man who trembled in his boots the first time he and Levi came into contact? It's almost as if he seems pleased with himself for drawing out such a reaction from his Captain.

Erwin shuffles through stacks of paperwork on his desk. The man needs an assistant at this point. You doubt you could find anything in that haphazard pile. Edges of crumpled paper poke out uncomfortably and Erwin becomes increasingly annoyed when he can't locate what it is he's looking for.

Just as you're about to ask if he requires any assistance it seems he's found what he's been looking for, that's if his eyes are any indication of the relief he feels.

"This." He holds up the paper, all eyes in the room are trained on it. "Under normal circumstances would not have to become an option."

"But these aren't normal circumstances?" Jean's thoughtless question is irksome when the answer is so obviously staring him down in the face.

Nonetheless Erwin nods incapable of losing his cool over something so minor.

"Sign to confirm to my proposition."

The document he places onto the desk isn't what you imagine, you can practically feel the dread climb up your throat once you're done scanning it. Jean's full name placed right next to yours in bold lettering has your stomach lurching. You don't have to read the rest to understand the new circumstances you've landed into.

To make matters worse Erwin places two rings down right in front of the both of you.

A pot of boiling hot water is what you've been thrown in.

Are you supposed to be some sort of replacement for potatoes? What's Jean in this scenario? Carrots?

"It is troublesome to have the two of you put on an act to be involved with one another but I see it as our safest option." Erwin notices your parted lips and slacked jaw. "You need not worry this isn't a marriage contract, you're simply acting."

There's no path out of this pot, you and Jean will simply have to deal with the prospect of being boiled alive.

Ah, you forgot to mention who would act as the hot water but you're sure the suspect is obvious.

Even right now Levi's fury radiates off of him, it's unclear if he was given the details of the Commander's plan beforehand but if his furrowed brow and pursed lips are indicators of the truth he must have had no idea.

Your suspicions are confirmed to be correct once Levi reaches forward plucking the paper away, it just so happens he's snatched it away the very moment Jean leans in to get a closer look at it.

"I was never informed of this."

Erwin gives him a guarded smile. "Do you have any jurisdiction over what I think is best?" Is his freezing reply.

"Yes. When it concerns my wife and another man - Correction. I meant boy."

Jean's taken aback by the subtle jab and shamefacedly shoves his hands into his pockets.

You watch the scene go down with a perplexed look the entire time. Levi's frustration seems to be legitimate yet he has no logical reason for it to ever be present in the first place. Unless he has a plan which outperforms the one you've just been given he's doing this all for nothing.

"I assure you your wife is in safe hands so long as you stop interfering."

Levi's about to bark back until he catches your confusion. He's become aware of your tilted head and telling expression and only then does he silence himself permanently not before sighing deeply, muttering an expletive under his breath.

 "I’ll sign it.” That seems to be Jean’s indirect way of asking what your choice will be.

“I... will too.” Is your hesitant reply.

Levi only becomes avoidant after that. Half way through Erwin explaining how you and Jean have to look believable Levi just ups and leaves without a word. Perhaps you've hurt his pride but for what he's done to you it's a small price to pay and so you do nothing to make amends. He has no reason to feel uncomfortable, you aren't really his wife, you're essentially strangers. Does he even know your favourite colour? Your favourite food? Your favourite pastime?  

You doubt he does.

Jean and you are rather successful with your act. It feels pleasant having him brush your hair out of your face occasionally or lovingly place a hand on your forehead to check if you've come down with a fever. He laces his fingers with yours when others are around and when they aren't he lets the act go. It's satisfying having a cooperative partner.

Naturally Jean is still a tease, even now he makes the odd suggestive comment or two in passing but you can't say you hate it. In fact it excites you to think of a response that borders the edge of teasing and simple fun between friends.

The increasing openness between the two of you is enough for the cadets to deduce that he's most probably the noble man you wed in secrecy.

It's only been a few days since yours and Jean's newfound behaviour, thankfully you haven't been flooded with questions just yet. The higher ups sit nearby during breakfast, lunch and dinner keeping watch over the cadets. It leaves you able to eat and drink without having to handle the constant inquiring of your comrades.

However, you aren't as lucky today. A meeting's taking place and after yours and Jean's convincing act Erwin deems it safe enough to leave you unattended for a short while.

Of course it doesn't go according to plan because when you're involved when does anything ever go according to plan?

The cadets are flocked around your table at dinner as soon as they notice they've been left to their own devices. The opportunity to sit down without everyone invading your space is barely provided to you. Krista is sat to your right leaning into you rather animatedly, Annie has made herself at home sat across you which in itself is completely out of character and slightly unnerving, Annie never and you repeat never concerns herself with you.

"Why did you and Jean hide it?" Armin hovers over your shoulder as per usual. He can't be blamed for naturally being inquisitive and it does give you the opportunity to lay out the foundations of your plan. Now's your time to muster up one of your rehearsed responses.

"It would interfere with work." You respond immediately wanting to appear natural. Pondering on an answer for too long would raise suspicions.

Armin makes a sound of approval and shuffles into the seat next to Krista, that is until Ymir can be overheard telling him to move if he knows what's best for him.

"I have a question." Says a voice across the table, you don't have to look at the blonde parallel to you to know it's her.

For once Annie’s initiated a conversation with you, she’s not particularly great at keeping her intentions discreet. Maybe she doesn’t care if you can tell what she’s up to? But if that’s the case her plan isn’t all that foolproof, there's no way you're to let any details slip away.

Sharply inhaling waiting for what it is she has to say you find that her sentence never comes. Instead she shakes her head and murmurs a "Never mind.". You don't even have the time to ask her to stick around, she's already rose from her seat taking her unfinished plate of food with her, you let her go assuming she feels unwell.

"So how'd you two meet? Jean already told me earlier but I'd like to hear your side." Reiner's taken Annie's empty seat and his gaze is unwavering. The trap they've set up is a clever one. Surveying the hall for Bertholdt you know he has to be observing too. The two never operate alone.

You suddenly hate Reiner. For whatever reason he and his trio are endlessly obsessed with you, they've caught onto something that's for sure but you don't know what it is and now they've completely ensnared you with a backhanded trick. There's no way out of this, you have no idea what it is Jean said to Reiner, the chances of you providing the exact same answer are slim to none.

"My memory is really fuzzy, I don't think Jean gave off much of a first impression so I've forgot." Your horrible excuse doesn't fly by, everyone simultaneously narrows their eyes in disbelief. What you've said isn't convincing at all.

Husband and Wife yet you've forgot how the two of you met?

Fidgeting with the ring adorning your finger the cool metal isn't doing a great job at alleviating the pressure of the situation.

"Jean said the two of you hit it off almost instantly. Who's being dishonest?"

Reiner's either lying to catch you out or he's saying the God honest truth and right now all you can do is hope and pray for a miracle to sweep you off your feet. Mikasa and Jean still aren't within view. At this point you're hoping for Levi to save you, it doesn't matter how so long as you escape unscathed.

"Hey, I think we're just making her anxious with all the questions." Armin is quick to side with you, deep down you know he only does so due to the respect he holds for his Commander. You thank the Heaven's for Erwin's admirable smile and commendable leadership, it seems to be the only reason Armin believes you and Jean.

"Or she's lying." Reiner's resting his head in one of his palms, he's still boring holes right into your frame.

Your eye twitches, this is all unnecessary and uncalled for, whatever it is Reiner wants out of you it better be worthwhile.

He still eggs you on. "You walked out of the Captain's quarters. I saw you."

Standing up and leaning forward you plant your feet to the ground as firmly as you can you.

"And if she did what's it to you?"

Fighting the urge to sigh in relief you've never been happier to hear Jean's voice but something's off. His breathing sounds heavy - like he fought his way to get inside. Turning only then do you notice Mikasa standing by him. She looks equally as exhausted. There's been some sort of a struggle.

"You think it was funny getting Annie to guard the door?" He heaves and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

"And you think hiding secrets from the rest of us is any better?" Reiner's adamant there's information that the both of you are hiding, he's not wrong but that doesn't change that he's challenging you unprovoked without a reasonable motive.

"We're hiding nothing." Unlike you Jean is sure of his words, he's confident speaking up and he seems to be able to pull off the role of a protective husband perfectly.

“I came out of the Captain’s quarters because he had access to hot water. He said I could use his shower. That’s all it was.”

Reiner quirks an eyebrow upwards and is pleased with your answer. God you’ve said something incriminating haven’t you? It's not incriminating per se but it's without doubt malleable and easy to twist.

“Jean, you were okay with your wife doing that at the dead of night?” Reiner's still leading the interrogation.

“I was the one who suggested it.”

“I don’t believe you’re a couple." If it were Reiner who said that you wouldn't care much, after all it's pretty clear he never believed it but to your displeasure it isn't him who's spoken. Ymir's lopsided grin is all knowing and you're beginning to lose your footing in this argument any second now if any more people start to side against you.

If Ymir disagrees that almost certainly means Krista has her qualms about you too, you've observed beforehand that Ymir tends to speak for Krista on occasion. This happens to be one of those times.

Krista timidly raises her hand and Ymir gives her an approving nod encouraging her to speak.

"I don't like the conflict going on but it is suspicious..."

"Why have I only ever seen you two hold hands?" She asks.

Ymir slings her arm over Krista's shoulder affectionately. "Yeah, I tell Krista I'll marry her every day of the week."

Mikasa mumbles something unintelligible, Ymir gives her a look of warning but Mikasa doesn't seem to care. Instead she repeats what she has to say loud and clear.

"Stick to only speaking when Krista is involved."

Krista holds Ymir by her arm so she doesn't get up, she knows how she gets when she's been provoked. Even if Krista has her suspicions it isn't worth Ymir gaining a permanent penalty point on her record.

Thankfully Armin cuts in. "There's no solid evidence to show they're lying and even if they are the Commander's most probably told them to. Don't you think there's a reason? Leave it be if that's the case. I trust him with our lives."

"We have a right to know." Annie's returned and insists to keep this back and forth going.

Just as you're about to fire back Jean takes a hold of your waist, you look down and seeing his large hands planted securely around your frame has your stomach bubbling with anticipation.

"What are you— "

And then he kisses you, he doesn't ask and instinctively your arms move to whack his chest but you stop yourself in time. You realize it's for the sake of your plan not falling through and so you gently place your hands on his shoulders attempting to ground yourself. It becomes increasingly difficult when you sink deeper into the kiss than you'd like to admit. Blood rushes to the tips of your ears and the thumping of your heartbeat makes it difficult to articulate any thoughts, all you really know is that you like this, whatever this is.

Jean's hands don't feel like they were made to rest against your back, they feel slightly out of place as if he's a key and you're an unmatched lock. In spite of that the circles he comfortingly rubs into the sides of your waist are appreciated, you almost forget you're in a room full of people until you're flooded by cold air.

You've been dragged off of Jean and something in the pit of your stomach has you wishing Levi isn't responsible for the interruption.

To your relief it's just Hange, they're glowing in mischief, the grin on their face shows they aren't mad. They might even find this entertaining.

"Well I be damned... maybe they weren't bluffing?" Connie's been persuaded by the looks of it and Krista's busy whispering to Ymir, you hear the faint sound of the word "Romantic" escape her lips, she's equally as convinced as Connie.

Hange smacks your back light-heartedly and looks to the door for a second. "We leave ya' both for a while and you decide to give everyone a show?"

Erwin's stood by the doorway with a humorous smile playing at his lips, Levi however is anything but amused, he glares at you with murderous eyes, he looks like he's ready to end your life then and there but you know he won't dare do so and for a second you feel braver than you ever have before. Without much thought you grab onto Jean's forearm.

"Me and my husband will get going now!" You allow your gaze to loiter when you get to Reiner. He grunts an apology and you're oh so tempted to ask him to repeat himself but you'd rather not instigate anything.

With that said and done you and Jean leave after giving the performance of your lives.

Slowly but gradually the sky outside becomes dark.

The will to sleep left your body long ago. It's by pure luck that you even manage to catch three hours of rest. Training is the only available distraction and dying out in battle isn't favourable by any means, your boredom may as well be used resourcefully - Strapping yourself up in your ODM gear is the best option.

A quarter way through your warm up you can sense a presence behind you, the leaves rustle and the wind feels noticeably quieter. You'd bother to turn around to see who's intruded but Levi's snuck close enough for you to be able to smell his perfume from where you're stood.

"Feel disrespected? Embarrassed even?" You jab at him knowing it'll rile him up, you don't face him not wanting to give him the pleasure of seeing your face.

"Watch your mouth." he warns sharply.

Rolling your eyes you go about your business, it stays that way for a few minutes. All the while Levi stares at you darting from tree to tree, his scrutinizing gaze scalding you repeatedly.

"Y/N!" He yells at the top of his lungs.

For some unknown reason you automatically stop and lower yourself to the ground

"I have something to tell you." Comes his tense follow up. A finger of his latches onto one of the leather straps on your back.

You can't believe he's still denying the undeniable.

"You can wait till tomorrow. I'll be going to bed."

Levi doesn't seem to care for your cold response and proceeds with no warning.

"I'm jealous." His voice shakes. The grip he has on your harness doesn't let up. With your back turned to him you're still somehow able to detect the very obvious crack of pain.

Levi, jealous?

Gritting your teeth together you feel deceived.

How much longer will you have to tolerate Levi's push and pull?

“May I ask, what he is to you, my love?”

Your breathing grows heavy, tensing up you're completely shocked by the term of endearment that falls from his lips. You haven't heard it for so long, Levi sounds eerily different.

You hate to admit it but a flicker of foolish hope lights in your chest.

"Levi why would you ask— "

"Why don't you call me Lev anymore?" He whispers sounding strangled. You can't take it anymore and hesitantly look his way.

His eyes are filled with tears "I'm sorry my love, I don't know what went wrong." you falter for a second not knowing what to think.

At that moment the flicker becomes a flame.

The man who stands right before you is meant to be dead, never to be seen again. By all accounts this should be impossible, but Lev has always been a fighter.

Bitterness stings your heart, the wounds you've collected are still fresh but despite your body's protests you don't flinch when he gently takes a hold of your wrist, bringing it closer to his mouth.

"Lev...? Is that really you...?" You ask desperately.

The warm kiss he presses against your pulse point provides you with the answer you've been longing for.

[ginanosakka]

Mistakes Were Made

Masterlist

You’re Wrong | Next

“Ryu. .” You trailed off but you couldn’t find the words that would stop the tears pooling in his eyes.

He looked so hurt.

“Tell me, mom! Is Dynamight my dad?!” Ryu yelled, the tears finally spilling over as he pointed an accusing finger at you.

You looked at Katsuki who looked just as lost as distraught as you did, his attention never leaving Ryu despite him not even looking at him. You were baffled in this situation; how did you become the villain again? You spent six years bettering yourself and doing all you could do to be the best mom for Ryu, but all it took was Katsuki coming into the picture to flip the script back to the original plot: the plot where everyone was against you.

“Yes, he’s your dad. . but you don’t understand-“ Ryu cut you off.

“I don’t understand what?! That you were lying about my dad?! He’s right here and he does want to meet me!” He yelled, and as blindsided as you were by this situation you still were his mother and he was getting out of control. It could easily cause him to react with his quirk out of impulse knowing the temper he inherited, and you’d be damned if Ryu talked to you like Katsuki talks to everyone else.

“Ryu L/N,” you snapped in a harsh tone. “I can understand that you’re very upset right now, but I won���t accept you speaking like you've lost your mind and forgotten that I am your mother.”

When you finished speaking the room fell silent. Ryu’s head bowed but you could see the tears hit the kitchen floor. This was all what you were trying to avoid with Katsuki and Ryu, all this frustration and anger that you wanted to brush under the rug has blown up, and you were on the receiving end of the blast. Looking at Katsuki, he just seemed to be watching deep in thought now rather than lost while watching you parent, but there was a look in his eyes after you said his full name that could only be described as discontent.

You sighed and rubbed your temple, “I think we should-“

“I hate you.”

With your heart in pieces in your hands and tears heavy in your eyes, you stormed into your father’s office heaving from the squeezing in your lungs. Your disheveled appearance shocked him enough to stop the paperwork he was doing, something that was a near impossible task, but that meant so little to you now that you’d think you never yearned for his attention in the first place.

“Why did you do it?” You asked, not waiting a second to let him compose himself.

Your father’s brows furrowed, “do what, sweetheart?”

“You bought them all. Everyone. . They only talked to me because you bribed them, they used me because of you!” You raised your voice, stalking closer to his desk and staring dead into his eyes despite the tears that were blurring your vision.

“Y/N. . . it’s not what you think-“ you cut him off.

“I think you ruined my life, and for what?! Am I always going to be some incapable child to you?! You expect me..,” you paused as a sob bursted through your lungs. “You expect me to be like mom and stay in your shadow forever. . I’m not going to do it.”

The only sound in the room was your sobs while you wiped away your tears aggressively to see him stand with an unimpressed look on his face. He was always so gentle with you, treating you like a delicate dove he locked in a golden cage, but in moments it seems like the cage was broken up and you were set free to see everything hidden before. Everything your father kept hidden in plain sight from you through money and affection was now visible, and you were scared and wounded by what you were seeing.

“I can apologize for buying your friends and that boy you like so much, but it seems you’ve forgotten your place. As long as my money and sacrifice is what keeps you warm at night and gives you a future you’d never even be able to comprehend on your own, you’ll do what I say and I won’t hear another word about it.” Your father commanded, his voice booming in the room and causing you to tighten your hands into fists. “Now, how about you go ask your mother to take you shopping to feel better? I’ll find you some new friends-“

“I hate you!” You cried, his words finally pushing you over the edge.

You didn’t want new friends that were bought for you, the fake meteorites you had were already haunting you. Every moment spent with Mina was like some forced business interaction to her, but to you it was your happiness. The love you had for Katsuki was probably a chore for him like he was working some part time job, and now he finally quit and told the truth; the truth of how gullible and brainwashed you were. No one cared about you, you were a pawn even to your own parents, and the moment you decided you didn’t want to play anymore you’d likely be on your own and disowned.

‘I’ll never forgive you, father.’

“Y/N! Y/N!” You blinked back to reality where Katsuki had you by the shoulders shaking you as gently as he could with his naturally rough nature.

Katsuki jumped into the scene when those words fell from Ryu’s mouth, telling him how it wasn’t right and he should apologize as calmly as he could. It wasn’t like the little blonde boy needed a lecture from his twin by blood, he looked like he regretted it the moment he said it. Katsuki half expected you to attack the child like his mother did to him, her ruthless tactics still haunting his brain to this very day, but he could tell you were nothing like that. He hadn’t been around you long, but your world was so obviously centered around his son that it made his stomach turn when he thought about what he said about taking him away from you.

What he didn’t expect whatsoever was for you to completely space out in front of them, staring into the wall with such a pained expression he was worried you were somehow physically wounded by Ryu. The boy himself was in tears again while looking at you, wondering if he had hurt his mommy so bad that she couldn’t take it.

“Take him. Take Ryu with you to your home and take care of him for me. . okay?” You said blankly, even with the numbness that spread over your body you still cared about what happened to your son.

Bakugou nearly had a heart attack at your words, the panic of taking care of his child on his own when he just met them was nerve wracking, and he couldn’t comprehend what was going through your brain to trust him to do that. You looked so drained compared to mere minutes ago, and the hero in him was kicking into overdrive to save you from whatever the hell was going on inside your head.

“Don’t be stupid, dammit! I thought you were a good mother-“ Katsuki had never been silenced by a simple touch until your soft, warm hands grabbed onto his wrists that were still on your shoulders and looked him in the eyes showing how tired you were.

‘How is she doing this again?’ He thought angrily, the way his heart began to race the way it did when he was a teenager conflicting him once again.

“Please.” Was the only word that fell from your lips before you pried his arms off you and walked past him and Ryu out of the kitchen to your bedroom.

Katsuki stood there for a moment, unsure of where to go from here but knowing either way he’d be taking the kid he’d been waiting to see home with him. Ryu, no matter how upset he still was with you, was worried about that look on your face he’d never seen you make. The past and the present had finally met, and everything was becoming unclear and feelings were overwhelming. Luckily, if Katsuki learned anything from his mistakes in life; it was that there was always a way to make a better future.

Even if he didn’t know who you were anymore, or where that spoiled princess went, he was going to put everything he had into making this life work.

“Let’s get you home, kid.”

A/N: This took way too long for the length it is but the holidays have me working overtime. I hope you guys like it, and hopefully the next update will be a lengthy one by next week!

Also... THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS <3!!!!!!!!!!

Taglist <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @damnirina @fireworkemoji102 @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @ladybeautiful18 @vintage-teddyxo @regalmigraine @samvmgh @iamagalaxy @officialtrashbusiness @xwackk @videogameboiwhowins @marajillana @ellasdilemma @plutoneu @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @thestarsanctuary @star-light-imagines

[le-desespere]

Fluff alphabet *Hawks*

(I didn't proofread this. Sorry for any mistakes!) <3

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

He just loves you. He definitely melts over your mind. You have a very different way of thinking. He never felt a connection with anyone... except for you.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Your eyes. He loves them. The shape. The color. Everything. He know the "eyes are the window to the soul" he feels a deep connection when he look into your eyes.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Hawks loves to cuddle. That isn't a secret. He really likes the 'honeymoon hug' position so he can create a little fort with his wings for you both.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Any date with you would make him happy. He specifically like dates where you are at home. Just you two. Maybe watching a movie or just talking. Really fancy restaurant dates are mainly for holidays or special occasions.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He isn't very emotional. By "not very" I mean he is not. He doesn't understand his emotions. The deeper into your relationship, he will be more likely to say how he feels.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

I am very split on this. I feel like he does want kids, he is just is scared. He is rarely home. He also is scared on if he can be enough emotional support to his child. His parents obviously weren't good influences so, he doesn't know how to be a "good" parent. It is honestly up to you. If you want kids he will be up for the challenge! If you don't want kid he is fine as well.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

He LOVES giving gifts. If you're sad he will get you the most expensive jewelry that Tiffany's has! It can be rather annoying sometimes. Especially if you simply just need someone to vent to.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He likes the whole thing. Why hold your hand if he is just going to do it weakly. Fingers have to be fully interlocked. (Also, his hands are always cold.)

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

He would skip denial (5 stages of grief) and go straight to anger. If your injury is so bad that you end up in the hospital, he will literally get angry at nurses for getting close to you. Hawks would say something like

-"just let me change the IV!"

The poor nurse would have to be like

-"um... are you a trained professional?"

With enough convincing he would let the nurse do their job. Other than that he is extremely cautious of you. Even if you just scrape your knee he will act as if it was the end of the world.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

YES. If you like humorous guys, he is perfect for you. He is always joking around and laughing. He has a pretty grey humor. He doesn't joke about inappropriate things though, don't worry.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

He likes long and passionate kisses. It kind of depends though.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

I am split between physical touch and gift giving. Gift giving is when you two are really far apart. You will get your favorite flowers and candy in the mail.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Probably your first date. He took you to a restaurant and that was the day he found out that he really likes you. Before you he thought he was incapable of love. He soon realized that he

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Losing you. He can't even think about it. Hawk's loves you alot. He needs so much reassurance that you won't leave him.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

*quirk=habits, not "powers"*

I actually did something with this same concept! One that I very lightly touched on was when he is happy his wings will raise. All his emotions are in his wings. If he is angry, his wings puff out. Scared? They kind of curl around him.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

We all know the classic "baby bird" which I totally agree with he will call you bird pet names... something tells me that he find those to be a bit to cheesy for his liking. I just feel like you would be more likely to call him bird-ish names than he is. If you want him too he definitely will though! Again, he likes to show you off so if he is like

"This is my baby bird"

He will get weird stares. He will most likely call you "baby" "darling" "love"

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Hawk's favorite thing is to be with you. Whether it's cuddling, or just talking. He doesn't have a favorite way to spend time with you.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Female: what makes you beautiful- 1D

"Baby, you light up my world like nobody else"

-ok so imagine you two just jamming out to music then... this song comes on. He will scream it at the top of his lungs while looking you straight in the eyes.

Male: I think he knows- taylor swift

"He got my heartbeat, Skipping down 16th Avenue"

-Truth is, hawks is obsessed with you. Ever since he met you, he has been in a better mood. He literally blushes by just thinking about you!

Non-binary: yellow- coldplay

"Look at the stars, Look how they shine for you"

- you and hawks are sitting at the very top of the city. The only lights are from the bright moon and stars. This song is playing softly in the distance.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He has a lot of secret. He just wants to protect you. That is probably his worst habit. With time he will be more open.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

I would say you knew each other for at least a year before you started dating. At when you met he would flirt alot. It kind of depends on how you handled it. If you flirted as well he would freak out and kind of distance himself from you, until he realized he couldn't be away from you. If you don't flirt back he will continue flirting until you get interested then he freaks out and yeah. The rest is history

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

I also kind of touched on this before. He will get extremely quiet or will explode. He rarely will ever yell though. He has a tendency to just get up and leave. He has a hard time talking about how he feels.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Hawk's loves to show you off. He will be on patrol with one of his hero friends and will be like

"Oh! I haven't showed you they picture that y/n sent to me"

He definitely, 1000% is the type of person to find a way to connect you to every conversation he has. He can be talking to someone about something so random like music for example:

"Yeah, my s/o hates that genre"

the person he is talking to will be like: ??????

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

For the most part, Hawks hates when you fight. Even if you "win" he will still be extremely angry. He can't even imagine losing you, it would hurt too much. If you're a pro-hero he would worry a little

less. He knows you're strong and can handle your own but, you're his love. He needs to know that he can protect you.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

No matter how hard you hide your emotions, he always can read you. The only problem he has is understanding how to help you. Before you, he never really had to empathize with anyone on a personal level.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

I don't see him having a huge proposal. It was probably a spur of the moment. I can only see one of two ways. 1; one of you get badly injured and Hawks realized that he can't bare to lose you. 2; it started as a joke but both of realize that you were both ready.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Wrapping you both in his wings. He knows that in that moment, no one can hurt you.

[lettheladylead]

Title: Witness

Summary: Scrooge is on trial and he needs a character witness, but he's not sure how helpful she'll be. Ship: Scrooge/Goldie Word count: ~3080 Notes: I needed to write something after seeing the summary for the upcoming episode, The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29510085

-

“This trial is a sham!” Scrooge shouted, slamming his shackled fists onto the desk in front of him. “You havenae allowed me a proper lawyer or allowed anyone to testify on my behalf!”

The giant mystical judge scoffed and held the gavel in his hand, ready to use it if the duck continued yelling. Holding him in contempt of court would be an easy way to end this trial early, but he wanted to make sure Mr. McDuck paid properly for his crimes.

The prosecutor rolled his eyes and walked in front of the desk. “And whom would you have testify for you? In the High Mystical Court of Good Versus Evil, family members aren’t allowed.”

Scrooge gaped. “Not even as a character witness? I spend all my time with my family!”

The smug, suited creature shrugged at him with a smile. “Too bad, then. Looks like we’ll just have to continue listing how you’ve corrupted these fine men and women and forced them into lives of villainhood.”

The old duck seethed, grinding his teeth and considering his options. If he let the trial continue this way, his poor family up in the spectator’s seats was about to watch him get destroyed and they had yet to even discuss punishment, but Scrooge was sure it would be worse than anything he could get on Earth.

As he glanced up at his family - Donald, Della, and the boys in particular - he wondered if Webby or Twenty-Two would’ve been allowed to defend him had they been zapped here along with the rest of them. They just happened to be in the kitchen at the time of abduction and were probably losing their minds with worry. Hopefully one of the boys was able to send some sort of textual message to let them know what was going on.

At that thought, Scrooge’s eyes lingered on Louie and his phone, and a thought suddenly came to mind. It was something he wasn’t sure about...perhaps it’d be a bad idea...but he had no other options.

“I know someone!” he shouted. “I have a character witness who’s not in my family!”

The judge and prosecutor stared down with their many, many eyes - giving Scrooge an expression he could only describe as terrifying and suspicious.

“You still want to try this?” the prosecutor asked. “Alright, fine. Who is it?”

“Goldie O’Gilt.” Scrooge ignored the reactions from his family - particularly Della and Donald’s resounding ‘oh, please no’ - and hoped this would be a good choice.

The prosecutor looked up at the judge, who nodded his head and slammed his gavel down three times before snapping his fingers. “Alright.”

A few seconds passed without anything happening or anyone saying a word. Scrooge glanced from side to side. “Should you...call a recess so I can contact her?”

“That would be a waste of time,” the prosecutor said as there was suddenly a poof of purple smoke at the witness stand.

Everyone stared as the smoke dissipated to reveal one Goldie O’Gilt - currently wearing a bathrobe and her hair was down and wet and as soon as she opened her eyes she was immediately very unhappy.

“Oh, what the hell is this?” Goldie shouted, choosing to stay seated but glaring around the room. “What am I on trial for this time?”

Scrooge felt himself getting sweaty. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

“Nothing, Miss O’Gilt,” the judge said as he leaned down to look at her. “Mr. Scrooge McDuck is on trial for crimes of harassment, manipulation, and corruption against multiple innocent victims.”

Goldie blinked up at him and then turned her head to look at Scrooge.

He gave her a toothy grin and a small, nervous wave.

“So what does that have to do with me?” Goldie asked as she grabbed her hair and wrung it out onto the floor.

The prosecutor stared at the puddle of water and then glared up at their new witness. “You’ve been called as a character witness for Mr. McDuck. Now do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

Scrooge dropped his head to the desk while the prosecutor and judge glanced at one another.

The bailiff walked over with a large brown book that had a giant lock around the side and was shaking a bit and making snarling sounds. Goldie raised an eyebrow as he held it towards her.

“Put your hand on this.”

Goldie grimaced. “Must I?”

“If you don’t want to testify, we can’t force you,” the prosecutor said with a pretentious glance up and down her body. “Clearly you were in the middle of something, after all.”

Goldie glared at him and in that moment decided she hated him more than she enjoyed inconveniencing Scrooge. She slapped her hand down on top of the book. “I swear to tell the truth.”

The bailiff mumbled something under his breath and then the book lit up and shone a bright light onto Goldie for a few seconds before fading away. He walked away as Goldie rubbed at her eyes.

“What was that?”

“That was a Light of Honestly,” the prosecutor said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Which means that so long as you’re at the witness stand, you’re physically incapable of lying or excluding relevant information from your statements.”

“What?!” both Goldie and Scrooge shouted at the same time. They immediately locked eyes with one another and could feel their shared nervousness almost psychically.

“Since when do you use something like that?”

“It was specifically requested and provided by one of the accusers in this case. Now, could you state your name and occupation to the court, please?”

Goldie’s left eye twitched as she squeezed the sleeves of her robes into her hands. “Goldie Kathleen O’Gilt. I…” She paused as if considering her words - or, Scrooge suspected, trying to find a way to word her lie so that it was still true. “...I own and operate a hotel.”

Scrooge’s eyes widened. She did what? He attempted to make eye contact with her so he could let her know how confusing what she just said was to him, but she was purposefully avoiding his stare.

“And how do you know Scrooge McDuck, Miss O’Gilt?”

Goldie frowned and glanced up at Scrooge before glaring at the lawyer. “He’s my…” She seemed to struggle with the words again. “...boy...friend?”

A collective groan could be heard from the duck boys in the peanut gallery while Scrooge couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face.

“Are you asking?” the judge asked sternly, leaning towards her again.

She grunted and angrily waved her hands around. “We’ve never really talked about it, alright? He’s the love of my life and we’ve been seeing each other on and off since 1897. How’s that for you?”

Scrooge was surprised not to hear another groan, and looked back to see the boys and Della looking quite touched by Goldie’s confession. They weren’t the only ones - even after their little Florida adventure, he never expected to hear those words come out of her mouth. Now he had ten times as much reason not to die right then and there.

“That’s descriptive enough, I suppose,” the prosecutor responded, clearly not recognizing or not caring about the emotional turmoil Goldie was going through after blurting that out so carelessly. “In the one hundred and twenty years you’ve known Scrooge McDuck, have you found him to be cruel?”

Scrooge stared at her pleadingly, despite knowing she physically couldn’t lie he still hoped she’d find a way to make him sound good.

Goldie brushed her fingers through her damp hair. “On occasion. But usually I was cruel to him first.”

“Usually, but not always?” the prosecutor asked, taking a look at the jury who were watching with gradually increasing interest. “So he has been cruel without provocation.”

“The first night we met involved me drugging his coffee and then him kidnapping me,” Goldie said nonchalantly, clearly starting to realize there was no fighting the Light of Honesty. “At the time I thought he was cruel, but looking back on it, I don’t mind that it happened.”

Scrooge closed his eyes and wondered what his family was thinking at that moment. He was thinking about all the different painful, mystical punishments he was going to face after Goldie destroyed his already limited chances of surviving this trial.

“Interesting. And over the years, have you witnessed Scrooge McDuck inflicting such cruelties on anyone else?”

Goldie rolled her eyes. “No. I like to think our relationship is special,” she added with a wink.

The prosecutor scoffed, annoyed by her response. “Can I assume this means your time spent with Scrooge McDuck is usually just the two of you, making you less than an expert on how he treats people he’s not having sex with?”

“Objection!” Scrooge yelled, standing up. “Curse me kilts, there are kids here!”

The judge shrugged. “He’s got a point.”

“Fine,” the prosecutor responded, putting up his hands in mock surrender. “But my question still stands.”

Goldie huffed. “Unfortunately for me, I have spent plenty of time with Scrooge’s other associates. I can’t confirm whether or not I’ve seen him around your particular accusers, but I’ve interacted with most of his enemies at one point or another.”

“...good to know,” the prosecutor said and brushed invisible dust off of his lapel. “Have you ever known Scrooge McDuck to harass others?”

“Only when they owe him money.”

“Oh? And does that happen often?”

Goldie let out a short laugh. “No one would be dumb enough to borrow from Scrooge! He adds interest even when you borrow five bucks for lunch.”

Scrooge pouted and ignored the temptation to argue that he had every right to do so.

“Have you known Scrooge McDuck to be manipulative?”

There was a pause at that question, one that filled the space between Scrooge and Goldie with a modicum of tension. “Yes.”

“...can you elaborate on that?”

Goldie sighed. “Well, he’s the richest duck in the world, a businessman, and an adventurer. You can’t be successful in any of those categories without being at least somewhat manipulative. Though he’s certainly not the most manipulative man I’ve dealt with, he’s not exactly a saint.”

Scrooge groaned and slammed his head against the desk multiple times in a row.

The blonde pouted angrily and tried to think of a way to save face. “That being said...if the accusers in question aren’t ex-business partners or fellow adventurers, I question the relevance of anything I’ve said.”

The jury seemed to find that statement interesting and the prosecutor glared angrily at Goldie for causing a stir. Scrooge lifted his head and smiled at her - now he was sure she was fighting to help him.

“I think we can allow the jury to decide the relevance of this information for themselves,” the prosecutor said with a snarl. “We don’t need any unfair extrapolation from our witnesses, Miss O’Gilt. Stick to the facts.”

Goldie let out a short, low hum and grabbed her hair to wring it out once again, getting water all over the attorney’s shoes. He gasped and stepped away from her.

“Oops!” Goldie put a hand to her beak, but offered no apology. No one needed to think twice to realize it was because she was incapable of doing so at that moment.

“Corruption is the biggest charge,” the prosecutor said matter-of-factly. “The accusers all claim that their villainy is a direct result of damages done to them, their property, or their livelihoods by Scrooge McDuck. Have you known Scrooge McDuck to be a corrupting person?”

Scrooge wondered about that charge against him in particular. He couldn’t deny that a lot of his enemies were a direct result of something he did - but it wasn’t purposeful nor was he the only person capable of causing these problems for them. If Scrooge hadn’t indirectly negatively impacted their lives, some other billionaire would’ve done it instead. It’s not like he was the only businessman-adventurer in the world.

“...yes.”

Scrooge sucked in a breath. He didn’t know what Goldie was going to say, but it couldn’t be good.

“Could you elaborate on that?”

“Not in any way that’s appropriate for the audience,” she answered with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to corrupt the kids, too, after all.”

Scrooge exhaled loudly and blushed. Alright.

The prosecutor slapped a hand against his forehead. “Not that kind of corruption!” he shouted, pointing a finger into her face and getting much too close for anyone’s comfort. “Have you witnessed Scrooge McDuck influence the life of an innocent person in a way that led to them falling down a path of villainy?”

The jury reacted more than expected to the prosecutor’s anger, whispering among themselves briefly. Scrooge and the prosecutor both looked over at the Jury Box, but Goldie kept her eyes forward.

“...not purposefully, but yes.”

The prosecutor smiled. “Ahh, well naturally, if it wasn’t on purpose, then it doesn’t matter! Is that what you’re saying?”

Goldie’s left eye twitched again. “You asked me to state facts. I stated a fact. Do you have any other dumb questions?”

He glared at her and glanced up at the judge, who was leaning on his hand and watching their discussion closely. “I want to summarize what you’ve told us so far, Miss O’Gilt.”

“According to you, Scrooge McDuck may not be prone to harassment, but he is often cruel, fairly manipulative, and has been known to corrupt innocent people to villainy. Is that all correct?”

She frowned and tapped her fingers against her leg. “That’s all accurate to what I’ve said here, yes.”

The prosecutor turned back to look at Scrooge, whose expression could only be described as defeated. “Some character witness you’ve found yourself, Mr. McDuck.”

“Stick to the witness, Prosecutor,” the judge said quickly, holding up his gavel.

“Yes, Your Honor,” the prosecutor responded, moving back towards Goldie again. “Now, Miss O’Gilt, based on what you’ve told us here, Scrooge McDuck is not a nice man nor is he a noble man. Yet you referred to him as the, quote, love of your life, unquote. This leads me to believe that you, yourself, may not be a nice or noble person, either.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s your point?”

“If anyone has any doubts as to whether or not Scrooge McDuck is a cruel, manipulative person capable of horrible deeds, we need look no further than the fact that his girlfriend here is similarly cruel, manipulative, and as many of us here are already aware - a criminal.”

There were gasps among the crowd and the jury - the prosecutor turned his head towards them as he continued. “Yes, everyone, Miss O’Gilt here is actually quite familiar with the inside of this courtroom. She’s been on trial dozens of times over the past one hundred years for theft of mystical artifacts from every dimension and realm you can think of.”

Scrooge closed his eyes again and started counting. Perhaps if he did this long enough, he’d wake up from this nightmare he found himself trapped in.

Goldie, on the other hand, was unperturbed. “Been on trial, but never been convicted. Who’s the one bringing up irrelevant information now?”

“I simply thought it was important for our jury to be aware of the witness’ extracurricular activities.”

“The activities you have no evidence of,” Goldie said sternly. She glanced up at the judge. “I believe your prosecutor is harassing me when all I’ve done is comply with every question I’ve been asked both here and at previous trials.”

The judge considered this for a moment and looked down at the prosecutor. “She has a point. Was she convicted of any of the crimes you’re accusing her of?”

The prosecutor frowned. “No, but-”

“But nothing,” the judge said as he slammed down his gavel again. “You will move on from this statement of irrelevant accusations or I will have you replaced with another attorney.”

“...yes, Your Honor,” the prosecutor said with a bow, glaring at Goldie.

She smiled back at him, then glanced at Scrooge and blew him a kiss.

======

After court was adjourned and Scrooge’s handcuffs were finally removed after all those hours of magical metal chafing against his feathers, he spent an enjoyable few minutes being congratulated by his family before Goldie stepped out of the courtroom and stared at them.

“Um...Uncle Scrooge?” Louie said, tugging at his uncle’s sleeve.

“Yes, lad?”

“I think Aunt Goldie wants to talk to you.”

Scrooge considered taking a moment to discuss that nickname with his nephew, but Goldie’s presence distracted him enough that he simply turned around and walked towards her.

“You really saved me in there, O’Gilt,” Scrooge said softly as he reached down and grabbed one of her hands.

Goldie shrugged and squeezed his hand back. “Well it wasn’t like I could let them throw you in interdimensional prison. They don’t have conjugal visits, you know.”

He blushed and pulled his hand away. “Must you always be so inappropriate?!”

“Not always,” Goldie said as she took a step closer to him. “Just with you.”

Scrooge felt his heart racing and couldn’t help the nervous smile that came back to his face. “...I would’ve thought you’d run out of here as fast as possible after what you said.”

She played with her hair for a bit, roughly running her fingers through the knots that had formed since the judge had summoned her from her bathroom before she’d had a chance to brush. “It’s not like I said anything you didn’t already know.”

He smiled brighter and leaned forward to press a quick kiss against her beak; a disgusted groan sounded from behind him that he was pretty sure was Louie’s. “Is the judge sendin’ you back home?”

“After I’m done with you, yes.”

Scrooge grabbed her hands again. “How about you come to the mansion instead, dear?”

Goldie breathed out a laugh. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m not wearing anything under this robe and I’d kind of like to do something with my hair before it knots into a nest.”

“I’ve got some of your clothes,” Scrooge said quickly. “And showers. Towels. Hair brushes. Anythin’ you need.”

She raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Scrooge’s family who were all pretending not to pay attention to them. “Well...I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

[agentjx7]

SO I wrote this massive post in the BCB discord explaining why I still like Paulo/Lucy, and at some urging I’ve edited it for tumblr!

Now, I could start off with a lot of talking about Paulo and Lucy’s personalities and why I think they’d mesh well together, but you’ve probably read the comic. You know the characters. I don’t think the argument “they don’t have chemistry” is even on the table. Instead, I feel like most people’s arguments about the ship are either “there are healthier/better ships for both of them” or “the Ferris Wheel scene and chapter 100 sink it.” So let’s talk about these arguments.

I am not going to be able to convince anyone who thinks that their ship is “better” than paulucy to switch sides, so let’s talk about healthier for a second. Paulo’s relationship with Daisy as it stands at the moment would doubtless get mired down by Daisy’s jealousy of Lucy. I’m not saying it couldn’t be good in the future, and both of them are developing in the directions that would make that easier, but at the moment I don’t think it’d be good. And as for Lucy? The number of healthy ships for Lucy is vanishingly small. I think it’s possible that her relationship with Paulo, if it started in the next chapter, would be healthy, but I also think they both need a little more work— and I think that they’re more likely to develop in positive ways together than apart!

Now, as for their recent arguments. I do not think Lucy is telling the truth during After You on the Ferris Wheel— at least, not the whole truth. She doesn’t feel like she can do a relationship at the moment, and she’s tired of watching Paulo (who she cares about deeply) hurt himself by waiting for her. This is compounded by the things she’s internalized from December and after: she feels like all she CAN do is hurt Paulo more, and that even if she starts dating him he’s only going to be doing it because he likes her appearance. Paulo might have proved MULTIPLE times that this isn’t the case, but she’s dealing with quite a bit right now and it’s very hard for her to see the positives in any of her relationships— Augustus excluded.

During the Ferris wheel ride she never actually can bring herself to tell Paulo outright that she doesn’t love him and that she’s incapable of loving him in the future. She does say that she’s sorry they couldn’t have been more in the past, but that’s because of her crush on Mike, a crush she’s slowly getting over. When he flat out asks her if there’s no way for her to love him she gives a non-answer and then changes the subject to the time they slept together, which she argues she only did because she thought she’d never see him again. I think this is true (and it was kind of a shitty thing to do), but Lucy isn’t giving herself enough credit OR Paulo enough agency here. Her goal during this whole conversation is to convince Paulo to move on from her, so she says a LOT of stuff that’s fairly hurtful. From her own admission, though, the reason she’s saying it all is because she thinks Paulo should move on, and that she’s not worth waiting for. That’s not her call to make. Unfortunately, as we see from their next conversation, all she really accomplished was ruining Paulo’s evening.

So now the big one, High Expectations. Paulo absolutely BLOWS UP at Lucy here, and a lot of people signaled it as the death knell for the ship. It definitely wasn’t our finest hour, but I maintain that there’s a couple little things in the scene that show that it’s still got stuff going for it. FIRST of all, Paulo flat-out says he loves Lucy. This one should’ve put the nail in the coffin of “ah Paulo doesn’t care about her because of the fair” argument, but on the NEXT page we get to the big one. Lucy says she didn’t come back for any of them, and Paulo asks the armor-piercing question: “Then why the fuck did you come back?”

This scene, this panel, is the FIRST time since Love Again that we see Lucy taken off guard by one of the members of the gang. It’s the only time her “I’m a cold hearted bitch now and I hate all of you” act really drops before she has her conversation with Sue a couple chapters later (It’s All in the Mind).

Paulo is the first person to REALLY get under her skin after she returns, and it’s pretty clear the things he says in this chapter stick with her. I could talk more about that, but for now let’s talk about Paulo and why he doesn’t mean the shit he says right here about how he’s Done With Lucy for real this time™️. First of all, Paulo is right up there with Mike and Lucy in terms of emotional outbursts— the main difference is that when he attacks people he just straight-up physically attacks them instead of tearing them down emotionally, and that it’s a coin flip whether he’s going to get angry with someone else or burst into emotional tears and start hating himself (because he’s one of the most empathetic emotional characters in the comic but I digress). He’s just seen Lucy, who’s keeping up the “I actually hate ALL of you now” act, with AUGUSTUS, who to his knowledge is the guy who tried to molest Daisy and nothing else. Robbed of the context of the situation, he feels like Lucy really hates them all so much that she’d rather hang out with the creep than them— than HIM— and that shit hurts. Why? Because he absolutely still loves her.

Paulo has also had an EXTREMELY rough day. One of his best friends just slammed his face into a lunch table. He’s still on rough terms with Abbey, even if Daisy’s party has assuaged some of these fears. He’s ALREADY ready to fall apart, and then THIS hits him like a train. It HURTS, so he lashes out and storms off.

Lucy realizes that she’s hurt him, bad, and that hurts her— but we don’t get to see that because Paulo and Mike are the focus of the chapter so we’re MOVING ON now, I’ll explain in a minute.

SO! During All in the Mind Lucy has another confrontation with her friends, leading to her blow-up with Daisy. BUT CRUCIALLY she’s on good terms with Sue again, and she starts to realize that she can’t keep hurting her old friends like this. This leads directly into her behavior in Witch Hunt, which is the next time we see the two of them interact. All she does is apologize to Paulo for potentially hurting him again with the dress— but this is a bigger moment than it might seem. In the earlier chapters after her return, Lucy would’ve pretended not to care that her actions could have hurt Paulo, but this time things are different! This is her reaching the olive branch out to him, as well as her genuine fear that she’s just hurt him again. Paulo assures her it’s no big deal, and then resumes casually flirting with her (in a friendly way!), something that she laughs with and clearly enjoys. When Daisy interrupts them they BOTH start blushing.

SINCE THAT POINT, the only chapter to feature the two of them significantly interacting is Unwanted Gift. Paulo happily takes part in the celebrations of Lucy’s birthday, which he DEFINITELY would not have done if he was still in the same mindset from High Expectations. Now, I can’t claim to know what’s going to happen after the most recent emotional missile salvo of a chapter, but I truly do believe the two of them are in a much better place than when Lucy first returned.

NOW, what evidence do I have that they really do still love each other? Admittedly, some of it is just my own gut feeling about the characters. Lucy leaving for the better part of a year didn’t put a damper on Paulo’s feelings. Being told “stop caring about me before you get hurt,” ESPECIALLY since Lucy can’t (or won’t) say “I don’t love you,” is not going to stop him.

As for Lucy? Well, there’s the inherent fact that Lucy didn’t just come out and say she didn’t like him and he had no chance. Lucy is often brutally honest, and she still chose to dodge the question when he asked. But Lucy still can’t bring herself to say she does love him, so if she’s so brutally honest, she must not, right? Well, no! One of Lucy’s major character flaws is that she can’t be fully honest with people, even when it would benefit them both. Admitting her true feelings is a specific area where that’s a problem— Lucy confessed she loves someone once before, and look how THAT went. Also on the BCB ship chart she’s still listed as having a crush on him and the chart came out in *checks notes* after Lucy came back so I’m hanging onto that for dear life

So, there you have it! My overdrawn explanation of why paulucy good, actually. Thank you so much for reading if you got this far! God I really love this comic waaay too much.

[hela-avenger]

To the Stars Who Listen- Part 3

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1583

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: And so it begins! Thanks for all the likes/reblogs/comments everyone! I see them and I appreciate them! I’ll probably be updating every Tuesday and Thursday now so there’s that. Tags are open!

TTSWL Masterlist

You feel like you’re floating in the middle of a dark pool surrounded by cold and unknown waters. It is relentless in its attempts to drag you down into nothing. Some part of you desires to just let yourself sink and try to ground yourself to whatever you find below. It would be so easy and yet a part of you knew that if you allowed yourself to reach the bottom you would be unable to float up once again. 

So you fight against the rising tide to keep your head above the water. It doesn’t take long then to be pulled out of that darkness. 

“She’s waking up.” 

“She can’t,” someone mumbles next to you. “That tranq should have kept her under for the rest of the night.” 

“It’s the power within her. Must have adapted around the sedative to wake its host up from it. The power won’t be put so easily to rest.” 

“Then do something about it!” 

“I can’t until she’s fully conscious!” 

As if on cue, your eyes flutter open. Your eyelids feel heavy and the brightness in the room doesn’t help your sudden weak state. 

“What’s-” you voice cracks and your tongue feels so foreign in your mouth. “What’s going on?”

Your sight blurs in and out but you recognize that bright red hair from anywhere. 

“Nat?” 

“Hey, Y/N,” she whispers beside you. “It’s ok. You’re ok.” 

You can’t help but feel suddenly angry at the lie that she’s so blatantly telling you at the moment. 

“Liar, liar,” you mutter through gritted teeth. “Pants on...”

A hand is quick to cover your mouth and you move to shove it off only to find your hands handcuffed to the hospital bed. 

“That would have not bode well and you know that.”  

You glare at your assailant only to find Loki staring down at you with a grin. The anger doesn’t fade away at the sight of him. It seems to enhance and he takes notice of it too. 

“Everyone out!” 

Your eyes snap away as you take in the crowd that’s in the room. Everyone is apparently there and you find this sudden urge to yell at them for staring. 

“We’re not-” Tony starts to say before Loki cuts him off. 

“She’s still quite volatile and until she gains some ounce of control, she will not stop until you are all disposed of.” 

With that warning, they all have no other choice but to leave. They all shoot you a sympathetic look and you despise it. You don’t know why you’re feeling so darkly about your friends but you couldn’t stop it. 

“I know,” Loki whispers as he looks down at you. “I know you are quite confused, but I’m going to let go of you now and I hope you can rein in your emotions and be civil with me.” 

His honesty is oddly refreshing and you find yourself relaxing under his hold. True to his word, he releases you and you watch closely as he retreats into the seat next to you.  

“I’m sure you have questions.” 

“So, so many, don’t know where to begin,” you answer. “My head is spinning and I see no end.” 

You frown at the choice of words that flowed out of your mouth so casually. 

“Why am I rhyming? Why can’t I stop? Tell me now before my head drops.” 

“I will answer your questions but I need you to remain calm,” Loki responds. “Can’t have you losing your head... literally.” 

You take a deep breath trying your best to ease your mind, but it was hard. You didn’t know what was going on and why, out of everyone you knew, Loki was the one assisting you with it. 

“You seemed surprised to find everyone here,” Loki states. “Do you not remember how you got here?” 

You shake your head feeling uneasy of not having any recent memories since the museum. 

“You found a book, one of mine, known as the Book of Veritas,” Loki explains. “Essentially, you got too close to it and it unleashed a power to you. I’m not sure exactly the extent of your abilities but I do know that you will have a knack of always knowing the truth of whoever you meet.” 

He pauses as you try to make sense of everything you’ve been told. Oddly enough, some innate part of you told you he wasn’t lying which further proved that his explanation was indeed right.  

“Now, as for your rhyming tongue,” Loki takes a deep breath and shrugs. “I can only presume that this new psychic development is one your mortal mind isn’t capable of withstanding. You are overwhelmed and your mind has reverted to a default language to ease the strain.” 

“This is not ok,” you mumble. “Am I stuck this way?” 

“No, not if I can help it,” Loki answers. “The rhyming is getting on my nerves already.” 

He frowns, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“Don’t know why I told you that. Must be another side effect of yours.” 

You open your mouth to respond but close it when you realize that whatever apologies you had would end up rhyming and sounding insincere. 

Loki doesn’t question your silence and instead props his hand up for you to take. You find yourself hesitating even though something told you he meant no harm.

“I just need to assess the power you have,” Loki explains. “It’ll be quick and harmless.” 

With that answer, you raise your hand as far as the handcuff allowed you to. Loki met you halfway and you instantly feel a warmth spreading through your body. 

“Hmm,” he hums. “That’s surprising.” 

He lets go of your hand and looks up at you. 

“You’ve grown stronger since you first came in. Not strong enough to expel your power physically so we will have to do this the hard way.” 

“Hard way?” you repeat. 

“You need to dig deep and spread some truth.”

“How is that hard?” 

“Because certain truths, the heaviest ones, we like to keep real close,” Loki explains. “You don’t remember this, but you pinpointed some of your friends' insecurities when you first came in. You were quite cruel with them.“

You frown at hearing this hoping your friends knew you hadn’t meant any of it. As if sensing where your mind had drifted to, Loki speaks up. 

“They know it wasn’t you,” he assures you. “It’s all because of the power residing in you. There is no way to extract it without killing you so the solution here is to gain control of it. Seeing as I am the expert on the book and magic itself, I’m going to train you. So first, let’s get you back to speaking normally.” 

You nod in response and take a deep breath. 

“Speak the truth. Use me as a target if you wish. I like to think I’ve got thick skin when it comes to taunting.”

You hesitate at Loki’s offer, but you find it so easy to read him. 

“Little Loki went into the Great Hall. Little Loki had a big fall. Little Loki was the laughing stock of them all. Little Loki felt so utterly small.” 

Loki chuckles at the memory you brought forth. It was simple and childish. Yes it was embarrassing to fall in front of the royal court but it was just a drop in the ocean compared to everything else. He sits back in his chair and looks at you. 

“Now I know you can do better than that,” Loki states. “Come on, dig deeper.” 

You find yourself focusing a bit harder on him and the words just slipped out of your mouth with ease. 

“Silver tongue turned to lead. Thor won her heart in your stead. Princess Elvira loved the royal prince. Loki wasn’t even offered a second glimpse.” 

That one did make him wince but Loki wasn’t utterly devastated at the memory of the Alfheim princess favoring his brother over him. You were getting close to gaining some control but your rhyming tongue still stood strong. 

“Dig deeper,” Loki repeats. 

You take a deep breath and clear your mind of everything but Loki. Envisioning his image, his voice, his overall being. 

Eyes turning red. Ivory skin turning blue. Cold, everything is cold. 

“I…” you stammer out confused. “I’ll rather not say.”

Loki pauses wondering what it is that you saw but withheld from saying. 

“Y/N.” 

“No, it’s a secret for a reason,” you shake your head. “I don’t really understand what I saw exactly but it felt so dark.” 

Loki knew better than to push you to state what you saw in him. He suspected already of the secret you might have uncovered. You had certainly dug deep if you managed to find it. 

He shrugs it off like he always does and looks at you with a small smile.

“You didn’t rhyme that time,” Loki states. “You managed to not only control what truth to find but whether or not to say it. That’s progress.” 

“Does that mean I can get these off?” you ask as you raise your cuffed wrists. 

With a snap of his fingers, the handcuffs are pried open. You stare down at your freed wrists and look up at him in surprise. Last you were told, Loki was incapable of doing magic.  

“How did you do that?” 

Loki doesn’t deem you a verbal response as he offers you a grin before getting up and leaving you on your own.

TTSWL Tag: @catsladen @is-it-madness @manyfandoms-marvel @mejusttryintogetby @illogicalfangirl @moonlightprime @islinglivesinshire @musicconversedance @missmadwoman @smaranshakthi @adaydreamingdragon @poetic-fiasco @like-a-wildfire @jasminecalia @ha-tep @charbokbok @setsuna-meiou31 @ms-blvck​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi​ @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @moonlightprime @badhollandfluff​ 

[allegra-writes]

“Carry me home”

Harrison Osterfield x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Thigh riding.

"You make me feel like I've had too much to drink, the room is spinning and I trip on my feet"

Carry me home - Michelle Branch

In an unfamiliar city, you ran into a familiar face. And maybe you had never noticed the way he looked at you before, but you certainly did now 🍻

Dedicated to the lovely @angel-spidey who helped me discover a new kink; darling, without your "Minor inconvenience" this would not exist 💜

MY MASTERLIST

He tasted like alcohol and mentos and the salt from the chips, and you knew you shouldn't find it so delicious, but you did. 

"We shouldn't be doing this" He breathed out against your lips, right before diving in again, one hand on your thigh, sneaking under your dress, the other firm on your waist, holding you close as he walked you backwards in the dark.

"Why that?" You mumbled into his kiss, as your back hit the wall. He stumbled, trapping you under his weight, every inch of his rock hard body now pressed against yours. 

"Y/n? Is that you?"

"Harrison? Oh my god, hi!" 

You felt something else rock hard, poking at your hip, making you squirm under him. 

"Oh, god!" He released your swollen lips to bury his face against your neck at the movement, mouth open and breathing hard. He used the hand now splayed on your ass to press you even closer. 

"So, how you've seen?"

"I heard you were living in the city but-"

You both started at the same time. He chuckled and you smiled: he had always had an adorable laugh...

"Because… fuck!.. Cause you're drunk" 

You pushed his coat off his shoulders,

"Harrison, I'm not that drunk" 

He took his hands off your body to help you get rid of it.

"I guess that answers the question of what are you doing here"

"Yup, I was in the neighbourhood" You giggled, "What about you? What are you doing on this side of London?"

"I was… nowhere near the neighbourhood" He admitted, avoiding your eyes by signaling the bartender to bring him another pint, "Would it be too creepy of me if I had seen your instagram story and… wanted to come hang out with you like we used to?" 

Your gaze fell on his reddened cheeks. Had he always been so cute?

"No. Not creepy at all…"

"Love, I had to carry you out of the pub" 

"I was pretending" You lied shamelessly, knowing fully well that without him keeping you up right and the wall supporting your weight, you'd be falling face first on the floor. Clumsy fingers attacked the buttons of his shirt, "I just wanted to feel your strong arms around me" 

He cursed as you ran your fingernails down his biceps, pushing the fabric off them. 

"I'm still more sober than you are" he chuckled, arm snaking around your waist to stabilize you when you staggered, trying to get rid of your own coat. 

You felt your cheeks heat up under his unrelenting icy blues.

"Stop looking at me like that"

"Like what?" His smirk was smug. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. "This is how I've always looked at you. You were just too… starstruck by Tom to notice…"

You bit your lip and his eyes zeroed in the movement. You lowered your glass on the table, afraid it would slip from your sweaty grasp.

"I am noticing now"

"Not my fault" You whined, eyes and hands flying to his naked chest, fingertips tracing the lines and planes hungrily, "You make my head spin" 

A growl, an honest to god growl, left his throat. He lifted you from the ground, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips to stop from falling as he carried you up the stairs almost effortlessly.

"You really are strong, aren't you?" 

He kicked the door of his bedroom open, tossing you on the bed.

"And you" He murmured in awe, watching your body bounce on his mattress, "are fucking perfect" 

It was surreal, he had dreamed about this, about having you in his arms, in his bed, for so long, he could hardly believe it. You had been in his head, obsessing his waking hours and haunting his nights, ever since that short week during the summer when your paths had crossed. Even as the months passed and your memory somewhat faded, you were still there, in the background of his mind, a warm presence made of sunlight and ocean breeze. 

And now you were finally there, in the flesh, lips soft and sweet and real on his. Eyes alight with lust and glazed by desire and… booze. Getting tangled in your own dress as you tried to take it off, almost falling from the bed. It dawned on him exactly how much you had drank, and it was as sobering as a bucket of cold water emptied on his head.

"Love, are you alright?" Big hands caught you before you reached the floor. 

"I'm ok! I'm ok!" You giggled, voice muffled by the fabric covering your face, "A little help with my dress?" 

Harrison tugged it down, straightening it and releasing you, before sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. 

"Not what I meant, Harrison" You watched his hunched form in confusion, as he rubbed his face with his hands. "Haz?" He could practically hear your perplexed frown, "What's wrong?" 

"We can't do this, love…" 

"What? Why? Did- Did I do something wrong?" The little catch in your voice at the end broke his heart.

"No" he denied, fiercely, callused hands cupping your face softly, "No, baby, you did nothing wrong… but I almost did. I want you so bad, princess, and I have for so long, that I got carried away. I didn't realize, this isn't like you. You're way too drunk" 

Way too drunk to fully understand what you were doing. Way too drunk to be able to consent. 

But drunken you was selfish, and reckless. All you've heard was that he wanted you, all you were able to understand was that you wanted him too.

You climbed onto his lap, straddling him, capturing his lips as a sneaky hand found the bulge in his pants, proof of his desire for you. And what a considerable proof it was. You started rubbing him through his jeans, but he grabbed hold of your wrist, pulling your hand away even as a helpless moan escaped his lips. 

"No, princess" He intended it like an order, but it came out pleading, "Not like this, not while you're drunk. Not when you won't even remember it in the morning…"

He couldn't be something you'd end up regretting the next day, his heart wouldn't be able to take it. 

"But I want you" You pouted, and Harrison almost melted right there and then, "Haz, please…" 

You sounded so pretty begging for him, looked so gorgeous with your skin flushed and your hair undone on top of him. And you had started to move, grinding your core against him, creating the most delicious of frictions. He was done for, and he knew it. He couldn't resist you.

But he still wasn't going to take advantage of you. 

"You're so horny, aren't you, princess?"

"Yes" you gasped when you felt him starting to buck his hips to meet yours, the zipper of his jeans hitting your clit just right to make you see stars. His lips trailed kisses down your neck, tasting, nibbling, all the way to the top of your breast, but never delving inside your dress. 

"Bet I could make you come like this… without even fucking you" His breathing was coming off heavy and hot against your skin, his fingertips digging into your back as he built his rhythm. Your replying moan had his cock twitching inside his pants. 

"And you'd like that, wouldn't you? Tell me you would like that, princess…"

You tried to focus through the intoxicating haze of pleasure, 

"Yes…" you managed, brokenly, "I would like that… anything Haz, please" 

His hands went to your waist, squeezing hard and halting your movements as he stopped his. You could have cried in frustration.

"Anything, baby?" 

You nodded, eagerly, the movement making you a little dizzy. But he held you up. 

"Then ride my thigh"

"Wha-what?" It didn't make any sense, up until a second ago you were sure he was just about to release his cock and fuck you silly, what with the way he was clutching at your body, the way he was kissing you, all teeth and animalistic passion. 

"Be a good girl tonight and ride my thigh" he spoke in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, "And tomorrow when you're sober, if you still want me too, I promise that I'll fuck you until you can't walk…"

"Fuck!"

"If you're a good girl" You could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

"I will!" You quickly agreed, "I wanna be your good girl"

God, you were going to be the death of him.

With gentle hands, Harrison guided you until you were straddling one of his thick, muscular thighs. There was power in those muscles, you could feel it as he tensed them and relaxed them so you could feel every cord, every valley and dip in his flesh. 

"Come on, love" He encouraged, placing an incongruously chaste kiss on your lips, "let me see you ride…"

Had you been sober, you'd probably would have been more shy, but as it was you were too far gone to care about anything but the painfully attractive boy giving you orders. You started rocking your hips, wrapping your arms around his neck. The rough fabric of his pants felt delicious against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as you feasted on the miles of naked skin of his chest, his shoulders, his abs. 

"Yeah, just like that, love" Haz praised as the little whines and moans began, the sounds going straight to his aching cock, "You're doing so well… I can feel your wetness through my jeans… is all that for me?"

You nodded yes, incapable of forming the words. It was incredible, how good his iron solid muscles felt between your legs as he locked them and relaxed them to add to your sensations. Harrison was telling the truth, you were making a mess of his jeans. 

And he absolutely loved it. 

One hand tangled on your hair, pulling your head back, dark blue eyes taking you in.

"Look at you… so beautiful, bouncing on my leg… so desperate for it…" 

You felt his gaze on your body, heavy as a physical caress. You let go of his neck to tug at his free hand. 

"Haz… touch me, please"

He didn't have much of a choice, as you place his palm over your left breast, watching in satisfaction at his slack jawed expression. You arched your back, pressing yourself harder into his touch, hips going faster. 

"I love to see you use me, princess. Is this how you gonna use my cock tomorrow?" 

You sobbed,

"Now. I want your cock now!"

He gulped, willing himself to be strong.

"No. I wanna see you make yourself come on my leg" 

You pouted. But an idea sparked inside your head.

"Fuck!" Harrison almost choked on thin air when you bunched your dress up, giving him a perfect view of the ruined little triangle of black lace you were wearing, the only thing covering your pussy as you rubbed it against his thigh. 

"You said… you wanted to see…" 

"Bad, bad girl" He admonished, squeezing your breast harder, sending another shock of pleasure to the storm already building inside your loins, making you cry out "shit, princess, are you close?" 

In an instant, he forgot all about your misbehaving, it seemed so inconsequential now that the moment he had fantasized about for so long was finally within his reach. Forgetting all about the rules he had imposed to himself, he brought his thumb into his mouth, getting it nice and wet before slipping it inside your underwear, holding it against your clit, stroking it fast as your rhythm faltered. 

"Haz!" You gasped one last time before your mouth fell open into a perfect letter o, head thrown back, eyes closing in ecstasy. He continued to rub you until your legs stopped contracting around his, helping you ride out your orgasm. 

You felt the world tilt and shift around you again, as he gathered you close and flipped you over, placing you on his bed carefully, so carefully.You felt boneless and exhausted, but forced your eyes to remain open, as Harrison placed one hand next to your head in the mattress. Breathless and dazed, you didn't need to see the rhythmical movement of his other arm in the dark to realize what he was doing. 

He sneaked a look down between your bodies, your dress still riding so high on your hips, he got a glimpse of damp lace, the single hottest thing he had ever seen. It only took him one, two, three more strokes, until you felt the warmth of his release paint your leg.

You fought it, still not ready for it to be over, but it was a losing battle, the corners of your vision turning black...

"Haz…" You breathed out, his bright indigo eyes the last thing you saw, before a sated, inebriated sleep overtook you.

You casted a glance at the empty pub around the both of you, a regretful sigh leaving your lips,

“What’s wrong, love?” Harrison’s eyes were glassy, nose a lovely shade of red. aparently you hadn’t been the only one to have a little too much to drink.

“Nothing” You confessed, shyly, words a little slurred “I just didn’t want the night to end”

Haz kissed your hand, noozling your palm,

“Yeah...me neither” He breathed out, and you could see in his eyes it was true. You bit your lip. Maybe it was the alcohol talking. Maybe come morning light you would realize it was a mistake. 

But right then, you didn’t care.

“Harrison... take me home  with you?”

That night, you dreamt about soft lips on your cheek, and true love promises whispered into your hair, sleeping in the arms of a prince that vowed to make you his the moment you woke up. 

The End?