#and at this point ive known him long enough that its not just the confusion of being happy to have a new friend

[princeanxious]

.

[the-moon-files]

Hi! I'm kinda new here but I was hoping to leave a request or at least something to chew on. So there's this genshin sagau where the reader has a bit of a language barrier with the other characters and I was wondering if that translated over to the Linked Universe as well? Like imagine the boys finding this random person with different clothes, accessories, and they talk in a language never before heard of? What are they, some kind of eldritch being? Meanwhile reader recognizes them obviously but frustratingly can't express any feelings asides from base concepts! Man.

Some funnies include; reader voicing more thoughts out loud now that no one can really understand them and reader eventually learning the language and getting a really sick accent out of it.

That's all my tired brain can think of atm so I bid you adieu. Have a good rest of your day :)

First Official Request!! :D oh and its amazinggg, ooOOO a language barrier AU, genshin? hm wonder who wrote that

Reader wasn’t specified and ive adopted masc!reader as the normal over here, so masc reader it is 👍

Sun: Masc/Male Reader (”you”/he/him)

Orbit: EXTRA LONG Headcanons-ish/scenarios SORRY 😭, Language Barrier AU my beloved

Stars: The Classic Chain of Links <3

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, typical mild loz violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

so for the sake of even funnier confusion, lets say the boys kinda missed u falling thru a portal, and instead just see the portal, and it disappears w/nothing coming out

(bc u obv are a competent person and clearly recognize the giant horse head stable from Breath of the Wild and went inside, like to orient urself, u will NOT be a Y/N damsel in distress 💀)

the boys had already been heading to that stable to sleep for the night, and needless to say, u nearly have a fit LMAO

first, the Hero of Time walks in, then the Link from Hyrule Warriors, then from Link’s Awakening? Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom Link?? Wind Waker Link, Four Sword Link??? The original Legend of Zelda Link-!!!!

well at least u arent the only weirdly dressed person there

(well, u arent weird looking for the hylians in the stable, theyre used to this weird shit, but the Chain of heroes on the other hand…)

they get to observing their bunkmates for the night, subtly squinting at you, then turning to talk to each other, and slowly every link gets made aware of ur prescense, u didnt think u stood out that bad..

(”くいんね しら んらな すいそらきみについ ちみん らは かくちか まいていりすん はすらも んらなす いすち・”) *

it also quickly becomes obvious to every traveler in the stable that you either cant speak, or wont speak, as when ur exchanging money for rupees at the front desk, the owner is accommodating with you by pointing and grunting and ur just nodding and pointing back

well, its not like when u first greeted the guy u understood even a single thing the guy said, it sounded like some sub-dialect of Japanese or something

u had realized earlier with horror that the game was staying true to its creators, and that most likely everyone spoke a special version of Japanese and ur English ass was abt to be so lonely and confused 😭

Wars/Time/Sky/Four in particular clearly noticed u exchanging all ur currency, as u can see them whispering or glancing at you occasionally as u pocket ur now little green gems the size of coins, rather than strip of paper

(”しにし くい まなとかるるる みらか くちひい すなせいいと・ てくら しらいとみゃか くちひい すなせいいと・ かくちか くちとみゃか すいちりりん そくちみきいし らひいす かくい いすちとね くちと にか てにりし・”)

and the boys move on in the morning, and its acc torture for u bc u had no idea how to even begin to quell their suspicions enough to let you travel along with them

u think u could say u came out a portal, but.. how would tell them that? drawing pictures in the dirt?? 💀

and this just keeps happening.

even when u just try to admire from a distance or even outright just leave them to it and go off to explore Hyrule (as safe as u could after acquiring a weapon and some more clothes)

but its like fate (or maybe Hylia tbh) wants u to run into these legendary heroes (both kinda in ur world and definitely here) constantly

after the stable u manage to run into them in Kakariko Village, which wasnt crazy bc u needed more supplies, and it was the nearest town to the stable

ur sure they noticed, but u outright avoided them out of paranoia or making them paranoid u were following them, and u definitely saw who you thought was the hero of the Four Sword whisper about u as u walked by, not that u caught much

(”るるるかくちかゃと かくい とちもい とかすちみきいほりららのにみき きなん はすらも かくい とかちこりいる てい とくらなりし のいいせ ちみ いんい らみ くにもる”)

but you’d started to recognize some Japanese words! …and tbh anime is the only reason for that, something definitely like “watch, him” 💀

which rlly didnt make u feel any better, and u avoided them even harder, u bought a map, so u made sure to head in the opposite direction of them out of, lets be honest, kinda lowkey fear of what theyd do if they thought u were stalking them

but despite u trying to actively go away from them, either you, or them, would show up everywhere the other went,

you passed by Wind playing in the water in Zora’s Domain,

Twilight riding Epona around the plains in Central Hyrule, Sky hanging laundry outside Wild’s house in Hateno

Honest-to-fucking-god seeing Wars, Wild, and Legend all crossdress to sneak into Gerudo village- u cant fucking escape them-

and the worst part is, you cant understand anyone, other than some basic words atp 😭

its as the Chain come from a path that merges onto yours on the way to Rito Village when Legend snaps first

You’re not even surprised, tbh it was more surprising it took them so long 💀

(”にかゃと んらな!! ちきちにみ!!! てくん ちすぃ んらな はらりりらてにみき なと・ くらて ちすぃ んらな はらりりらてにみき なと・・ くらて ちすぃ てぃ はらりりらてにみき んらな・・!!”)

the look on ur face must have drawn some pity from Twilight bc he’s trying to talk Legend out of his yelling and pointing his sword at you,

(”ひいか そちりも しらてみ! りにのい んらな とちにしね に かくにみの ていゃひい ちりとら とらもいくらて こいいみ はらりりらてにみき かくいも からら!”)

Wars joins in, giving you a confused look, before talking to the group at large, most of which have their hands near their weapons, but dont look that inclined to use them, thank the fucking gods or whoever rules over Hyrule-

(”かくい すちみそくいす くちと ち せらにみかね かくにと すいいのと らは もちきにそ ちみし にゃも となすい にかゃと くんりにちゃと しらにみきる てい とくらなりし まなとか かすん から かちりの から かくいもね といい には かくい��ゃすい いさせいすにいみそにみき ちみんかくにみき とかすちみきいる”)

oh no. they want to talk you, you barely picked out in their argument

Time nods in agreement, before stepping forward to talk first, you cant even imagine how anxious u look rn lol

(”かくい らかくいすと ちすい すにきくかね かくにと にと りらみき らひいすしないる もん みちもい にと かにもいね ちみし かくいとい ちすい もん かすちひいりにみき そらもせちみにらみとね ちと にゃも となすい んらなゃひい きちかくいすいし はすらも なと すなみみにみき にみから いちそく らかくいす とら もなそくる てくちかゃと んらなす みちもい・”)

why has Hylia forsaken you. what did you do to not receive some sort of fancy natural translator power in ur brain or something after getting portaled here, its the least she could do for fucks sake- talking to someone in a diff. language is SO much harder than just listening to them to understand what theyre saying-

you desperately try to recall the words people have said at stables and whatnot when introducing themselves, before they realized you couldnt speak the same language

(”Uh… もん みちもい にと… and I’m not following you…とらすすん”)

you just try to say ur name and then say sorry LMAO 😭

Nearly every Link is staring at you bug-eyed in shock, confusion, and understanding all at once

the Chain’s attitude changes pretty quick after that, and they quickly connect the dots after, yes, u do a drawing of a portal in the dirt 💀

u gather from the few words u can get that it was indeed magic (probably Hylia) that kept shortcutting you and the group of heroes together over and over again

…

she can move your position in space time and yet she cant get u an auto-translator after being forced to be here.

(in the middle of u drawing to communicate Hyrule manages to understand the gist of what you meant by that and laughs)

the Chain are quick to be very accomdating, Wars/Sky/Wild all offering to try and better teach u their language, but in return they want to learn yours?

actually, that was smth u noticed pretty early on in the ensuing weeks of travel, was the fascination they had w/English and ur voice??

Wind constantly rambled at you and poked and smiled at you to try and get you to ramble back, and after getting more comfortable around them,

u start to talk like they cant understand a word ur saying, which is entirely accurate, and you notice some like to lean in when you talk, or respond with humming/saying smth like u can understand, or even just gesture for u to keep going

Four/Time/Legend?? surprisingly/Hyrule/Twilight like when u get rlly talkative like ur having a one-sided convo w/them all the time, and they constantly are looking at you poinetedly to hear u narrate whatever ur doing or give a response whenever they same something at you (Rulie/Four/Twi/ and sometimes Time, (and he turns away but Legend too) give a little smile whenever you ramble)

Wild is Very Interested in your langauage, bc the Zora, Rito, Gerudo, and Gorons all had their native tongue that he ended up learning, and so he constantly makes notes to try and decipher some of what ur saying in English

he lights up anytime ur able to successfully tell him another something abt it, like the alphabet, or grammar or structure etc

they seem to pay attention esp in the mornings or late at night? ur not sure why until Wind both draw pictures and tries to get the general idea to you to explain

(”かくいんゃすい ちりり きちんる んらなす ちそそいみか にと くらか ちみし んらなす ひらにそい にと しいいせる かくいんゃすい ていちのる”)

smth abt ur voice being nice? deep? but theirs do that too? u dont get it, but thank him anyway

they also help u out at markets, keep out of trouble w/locals, and other misc tasks that need some language help

everythings going great, the Chain trusts you, ur getting better at their language every day, and bc English is one of the hardest languages to learn in the world, theyre slowly getting some of urs!

it isnt until ur camping out in the Temple of Time when things get weird again

Not only is there English carved into the walls, which u read as the Chain give u “explain now” looks and u communicate that the rlly ancient looking script they may or may not be able to read is, in fact, the written version of ur language-

but then another portal opens, and there’s sentences wrapped around the edges, which are fully in English too.

☆

* = hint: JIS

So i love ciphers for language barrier AUs, so have a cypher! have fun decoding it if u like, but don’t worry abt translating it, as its purposefully not important for u to enjoy this :)

JFC IM SO SORRY AB THE LENGTH I WROTE THIS FROM MIDNIGHT TO LIKE 1:30 AM- UGH sometimes this happens when i get on a scenario kick, SORRY 😭😭

also so sorry abt late reply! at least i already established im slow w/u guys so ig its not a huge surprise 😭

tysm for the request it was such a fun idea to write abt :D

i also like genshin, just a little bit u could say, so it was cool to see this carryover across fandoms lol

language barrier is so versatile, could be angst, crack, etc. so that makes sense

have a great weekend!!

Peace out,

🌙

[jacesbeloved]

for the kingdom: part III

summary: being the youngest daughter of alicent, you hadn’t known what it was like to feel restraint until you had been betrothed to the eldest son of queen rhaenyra for a pact. for who? for the kingdom

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

warnings: violence, mentions of blood, themes of burning (??), very mild nsfw (consented), y/n is actually way more manipulative nd evil than u might think

part: I, II, III, IV

a/n: not rlly my fav work/part but it’s a plot point sooo >< this took me such a long time to proofread (this is like 4k words) and stuff gosh anyway i hope u guys like it!

Silence.

That was everything that was inside the tent after one word from Jace's mouth.

He blinked a few times when he watched you pull away, sitting back in your place across from him as the two of you breathed heavily. Tension is rotting both of you away.

You lick your lips, only now noticing how dry they were. Your face was back to its blank look like it used to be, narrowing your eyes as you went by him to head out of the tent, not being able to withstand what just happened while Jacaerys rushed to follow you.

"Did I just get turned down?" You thought to yourself. The mere idea of being turned down damages your ego far more than you imagined. Because of it, you rushed out. Talking to your husband is the last thing on your mind right now.

Jacaerys calls out your name as he too slips out of the tent, seeing you under the tree talking to Cregan. The man sighs, taking a sip of wine from his canteen before grimacing.

Various men approached him after a second of standing outside of their tent, talking to him about the animals they caught as well as their admiration for you, the princess.

He had to put on a fake smile for them, thinking it was just genuine admiration they had for you.

When he glanced back in your direction, there were a lot of people within your circle. When he saw you whisper something to one of the boys, his eyes narrowed, and the boy looked at you with wide eyes before nodding frantically.

You let out a fake giggle at his eagerness, laughing internally at how easy it was to have boys do your bidding just by having them believe such gullible things as having a date with you.

With your dismissal, the people surrounding you eventually dispersed, and you watched quietly as they ate, drank, and even fished by the trees.

Jace shook himself, sobering up before he poured the leftover wine in his canteen onto the grass, gathering confused stares from the ones with him. He excused himself from the men around him, smiling tightly as he made his way towards you.

The young prince sits on an empty log beside you, thankful that Cregan had been distracted enough not to notice him sitting there, saving him from possibly drinking even more than he already has.

You ignored his presence there, brushing off the looks the maidens gave you when they saw your husband behind you. They discreetly tried to tell you that he was behind you—with subtle waves, widened eyes, and obvious glares—but you ignored them.

When Jace cleared his throat, thinking it could possibly catch your attention, you turned your whole body in the opposite direction. He sighs as he is faced with your back.

He gets out of his seat, and the maidens giggle as they stare at him. You clenched your jaw, your patience running thin.

The both of you look shortly at each other, not really having the stomach and pride to look at each other for long, you stood up. He breathes heavily, walking away from the fire, and you follow him without any questions, dreading each step.

When he stops, you stop as well.

You notice that he brought both of you a bit far from the bonfire—not super far, but far enough to not let the other men see you both alone.

You two stand there in awkward silence. You take a step away from him to lean on a tree, crossing your arms on your chest as you glare at him.

"What do you want?" You ask loudly and in a monotone.

Jace licks his teeth subtly before taking a cautious step toward you. He awkwardly waves his hand, staring quietly at his feet.

"I'm sorry for earli-"

"Apology accepted. Good bye," you said as you walked away from the tree, and Jace, perplexed by your actions, drew you back by your arm.

"Hear me out first," he says quietly and you glare at him. "I was.. drunk. I didn't want something to happen to us when we're drunk. It's... different. When you left, I didn't want you to think that there was something about you, because there isn't," he stammers.

"Jace, it was just a kiss." You paused to emphasize on it. "Don't make it any bigger than it actually is. I assumed, and I was mistaken," you scoffed. "I shouldn't have expected anything more from you."

Jace's eyes looked down apologetically, pursing his lips as he nodded. "I apologize again."

You laugh sarcastically at him. "Jace, if you weren't drunk, would it have made any difference?" It was his turn to look at you weirdly, his forehead contorting as he tilted his head a bit, confused at the way you were laughing at him.

The prince remained silent, his lips opening ever so slightly before he closed them. Dozens of thoughts and possible responses ran through his head, but he remained quiet.

That simple action gave you every response you needed.

You walk away from the man, going back to the bonfire, only for your eyes to widen at the sight.

A naked man running to the flames, his screams deathly frightening as he frantically patted himself off, trying to stop the fire from spreading throughout his body. The people around him were all alarmed, desperately trying to get some water for him.

Jace immediately ran over to you, holding you by your shoulders as he saw what you were seeing. The two of you snapped at each other with both of your eyes wide.

Then a simple chuckle escapes your lips. You didn't even know why you laughed; there was something that entertained you, something that took away your boredom from that very moment. Jace glared at you, appalled by the fact that you were chuckling. It took him a second to look closely at the man before he recognized him as well.

The boy on fire was the same one who had asked for a chance with you the day before.

"My prince, princess!" One of the guards from the Red Keep calls out to the both of you, running to your side. Jace glared at you, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

The guard tried to say something, but it was obvious from the way he looked that he was equally shocked and frightened by the boy's screams.

"He's saying the princess made him do it!" He says. You gulp at the sudden news, recognizing the guard as one of your sworn guards. You turned to Jace with an unexplainable look on your face, and he looked back at you speechless.

Jace turns back to the guard. "What do you mean? Who was that?" He follows the guard back to the fire, where they were already pouring water on the boy, grimacing at the sight of the burns on his body.

"Prince Jacaerys!" Cregan approaches both of you, your guard shifting defensively to your side.

The two men face each other, Jace's jaw clenching in response to Cregan's stern expression.

"Where's the princess? This boy walked into the fires, yelling your wife's name," Cregan raged, pointing to the panting and writhing boy on the ground.

"Her! It was her! You promised me!" He screamed at you when your guard moved to the side. You moved back in shock, seeing Jace's arm come in front of you in a protective manner, shielding you from the other men coming close.

You acted scared, frowning at the burned boy's death glare at you. While you looked at Cregan with the softest eyes you'd ever seen.You tried your best, acting unaware of what was happening.

Cregan sighs, nudging his head over to the boy, commanding his men to bring him to the maesters. Once he saw that his men were already attending to the boy, he went towards you and Jace.

The women and men around you began to gossip, their inaudible chatter becoming louder than the owls hooting in the trees. You glared at them, analyzing each of their faces with your eyebrow raised, before you turned back to the two men.

Jace looked only once towards the crowd, followed by Cregan, and the chattering died down almost immediately. They scurried back to their tents, where they could gossip in peace.

"I hope you don't hold the sudden commotion against me, my prince, we were all shocked. He just ran to the fire and stayed there for a second. He kept babbling on about the princess' promise for him, but I haven't seen them together." Cregan brings it up while adjusting his shirt.

"What do you think, my prince?"

Jace glances at you before he withdraws his hand, pulling you close to him by your wrist and making you yelp.

"I..." He pauses for a long time, swallowing harshly, before he loosens his grip on your wrist, only noticing now how tight his grip was.

You look away from him; it would only take him one sentence to turn every person around you against you. He knew that the boy earlier was one of your playthings, one of your gullible boys during the hunt, and with just one confirmation or word from him that you did know the boy, you were done for.

The man visibly stiffens up, unsure of how to respond, while you and Cregan look at him expectantly.

"I was with her the whole night and day. I can assure you, Lord Cregan, my wife has never been near that boy." He reassured, nodding slowly as you exhaled a relieved breath.

The days that followed the hunt were tense and awkward.

Jace couldn't bring himself to be near you for more than what was needed, he kept thinking about how he lied for you and the screams of the innocent boy.

One side of him had been pestering him, telling him that what he did was below everything his mother had taught. Him lying for you, ignoring the accountability that you should have taken because of your actions, letting you go without any punishment all continued to eat at his conscience. Every time his eyes closed, he always remembered the screams of that boy.

However, the other side of him applauded him. You are his future queen, the woman who will bear and raise his children. Your protection and well-being, no matter how difficult they may be, should always be his priority. He even swore to always be with you and stand by you during your wedding. If he were to say the opposite of what he said that night, he wouldn't be able to keep any of his priorities or his vows.

Daemon is not innocent; he did bad things just to protect his wife, Jace's mother. Viserys surely isn't as well, for the protection of his wife. But here's Jace beating himself up because of it.

He never spoke about that night with you again; he was always so tensed and awkward around you. When it came to night, the barrier between the two of you became bigger and bigger. While you snored peacefully, Jacaerys moved closer to his side.

Eventually, some of the people in Winterfell noticed this, thinking maybe it was just one of many conflicts as a married couple.

You, on the other hand, hated how he was acting. "If he's going to keep acting like this, we might as well separate." You found yourself thinking to yourself at times, glaring at him whenever you could, a dirty expression on your face as he interacted with everyone but you.

This night, you were alone in your room. Your bedside was peacefully empty, as it had been for the past two days, with no worries about where or what Jace was doing. It was in the middle of the night; he couldn't possibly have any affairs or things to do with Cregan at this hour, but you couldn't care less. He could be fucking a whore, and you wouldn't bat an eyelash at that; you're used to your brother, Aegon, mentioning such activities.

Someone suddenly emerges from a hidden doorway, from the wall covered by a curtain. You stare in confusion as Jace walks in normally, stepping back in surprise when he saw you.

He awkwardly scratches the back of his head, hanging his coat on a hanger. "I'm sorry if I have woken you..."

"Was it that hard to lie?" You asked directly, standing up from the bed with your arms crossed. His eyebrows furrowed, shaking his head a bit in confusion.

"Let's not kid ourselves, Jace. You've been acting like I've murdered someone and asked you to seal your lips for me. I didn't even ask you to. I could have gotten myself out of that situation myself." You start off, "I don't care if you're distancing yourself from me, I'd actually like that! But at least tell me what you are doing; if you're fucking another person or if you'd rather not be near me, tell me. So I can plan how to make this shit marriage work. The more we act like this, the more we'll get in trouble with our mothers."

"How is it so easy for you?" Jace replies quietly, with his head hanging down, biting at his lips.

"What is?"

"That boy, an innocent boy, almost died from his burns because of your silly games, Y/N. You made him run into the fire in exchange for your hand, and you're married! You act like it's nothing. Laughing at the matter as if it is just a mere performance when it is a life, Y/N." Jace was enraged, his voice as loud as it had ever been. "And I lied about it.." He whispers after, massaging his scalp as he sat down on one of the chairs, obviously troubled by the guilt.

"You just lied, Jace. A little white lie. It's not like you killed someone."

You sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed that was face to face with the chair he sat on. You didn't care, honestly speaking.

He's right; to you, it was nothing more than a show, a distraction from your boredom that night. But Jace knew nothing—at least nothing that would alter his opinion in light of what you did.

"That boy wasn't innocent, Jacaerys, trust me. And you aren't as well; none of us are. Did you not understand that the moment you lied for me?" You spoke in a low tone, his head slowly rising to stare at you, "You'll never be a king if you think all is nice and good, Jacaerys."

"How do you think our ancestors became rulers? By asking nicely?" You laugh mockingly.

"They were evil, Jace. They killed, they lied, they cheated, and they played dirty! But all of that doesn't matter because it's all for us. Every evil thing they did, every life they gave up, every bad thing they thought of and did, it was all for their subjects, for the kingdom they ruled."

You watch the dilemma further intensify in Jacaerys' face, different thoughts conflicting in his head. Leaning against the stone wall, he watched the guards monitor the area, the torches in their hands lighting their pathways.

"How is that connected? When you told him to run into the fires, was it for the common good? Was it necessary? Did it save anyone?"

You sealed your lips at Jace's rhetorical questions, waiting for him to calm down as you saw him start to get angry at the subject. He notices the cautious look on your face, and so he sits back down on the chair in front of you.

He inhaled deeply. Part of him was relieved that he had finally gotten everything off his chest, but another part was also scared he might yell at you.

"I'm your wife, you are my husband. You should side with me, always." You stood up, walking to Jace as he looked up at you from his seat.

There had been something different when Jace looked into your eyes—something that pulled him differently.

In his mind, there were no longer two opposing sides; now, there was only one.

He rose from his seat, staring at you in silence as he was now looking down on you from his place.

Your forehead scrunched as you felt the air around both of you change, feeling a pair of hands go over the side of your bare arms, harshly pulling you close. Jace paused for a moment to look at you, licking his lips before he notices your slight nod, throwing every bit of rationality out of the window because of it.

The feeling of his lips hastily and aggressively attaching themselves to yours caught you off guard. Both of your eyes closed as you reciprocated the aggression, swiping your tongue against Jace's lips as you placed your arms around his neck, pulling him down.

He held the side of your face, tilting it a bit as he deepened the kiss. He leaned his body weight onto yours, the both of you stumbling before you hit the bedpost with an audible gasp.

You glared at him when he pulled away, his lips already pink and puffy.

"Get used to lying for me, I'm sure you could do that for your wife." You spoke quickly with one sharp intake of breath.

The sides of Jace's lips rise a bit, scoffing audibly before he kisses you once more. This time, much more aggressive than before. Tangling his tongue with yours as the two of you fought for dominance, his hands rushed to unbutton the buckles in front of his coat.

You pull roughly at the hair behind his head, pulling Jacaerys away with a teasing grin. He hissed at that, scowling at you.

"You are so insufferable," Jace mumbles before he pushes you softly onto the bed. He pulled off his vest as he went on top of you, harshly kissing your jaw while you held him close.

He starts sucking on various parts of your neck, his hands moving all over your body, making you mewl as you close your eyes. You felt his lips smile on your skin while leaving kisses on the places that he bit.

Right before he pulls off your nightgown, you felt him halt.

Your brows furrowed, slowly opening your eyes, only to see Jacaerys looking cautiously around the room, his nose scrunching as the smell started to invade your nose as well.

It smelled like fire, like something was burning.

You jerked up almost immediately, a hand on your chest as you took a quick look around. Smoke began to come in from the chamber door. Jace quickly turned over, pulling a random tunic from his closet. "There's something burning, stay here," he announces lowly, walking to the door.

You roll your eyes in disbelief; he just left you. Nonetheless, you stand up from the bed itself, walking to the window while Jace slowly opens the door. Smoke came into the chambers while the smell of the fire intensified as you approached the window. Your eyes squint at the foggy window, and you wave your hand by your face because of the smoke before a bright flame catches your attention.

Only then did it hit you that the fire wasn't inside the house; it was outside.

"Jace-"

A blade was put to your throat the moment you turned around. A boy that was a few centimeters taller than you with bandages all over his body, dark spots on his face. You gulped as you recognized him.

"I thought, the prince would be the one here..." he starts off, clutching your face tightly as he moves you away from the window. You gripped his arm as hard as you could, struggling to pull it off your jaw. "Doesn't matter. At least I'd get to collect your debt, running into the fire isn't exactly an... easy play. Acting like a gullible fool wasn't as well."

Your eyes flickered helplessly towards the door, hearing hard knocks from the outside and the door handle hitting loudly. He grabs your face with his other hand, pulling it in his direction with a wicked grin. "It's locked, princess."

He pulls off the bandage from one of his wrists, the one that wasn't holding you. Your forehead contorts as you see a familiar brand on it. He's from Essos, a member of the triarchy to be exact. "H-how did you get here?" You gritted your teeth when he pushed the blade closer as you spoke.

You don't get a response or a reaction from him, he merely stares at you. His fingers soon find themselves on your bare shoulders. "D'you know how many people have mistaken me for a boy?" He pulls you close to his lips, whispering in your ear, letting his foreign accent seep through his voice. You stiffened when you felt him lightly push aside the thin string of your nightdress.

"Think, Y/N." You screamed in your head, eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to think of something. Soon enough, you found yourself leaning back into the bed on your own accord as the man's eyebrow raised at your action, his grip on the blade loosening a bit as he let you do it. He paid close attention to your every move, like a predator to his prey.

You kept your eyes on him, pulling your leg up to make the ends of your dress hike up, and you felt a bit relieved as you saw his eyes go down your legs. He quickly stalks up to you, pressing his blade once more against your neck pulse.

"Don't jester with me, Hightower." He threatens, speaking the family name like something rotten.

"You said you wanted to get your end of the bargain, right?" You chuckled shakily, and he smirked as he watched you pull off the other string of your gown, his eyes feasting on your bare chest as he pulled down the front of your gown.

When you hear something clanging, you both turn quickly in that direction. Your eyes widen when you see Jacaerys, and you take a split second to grab a random golden vase from your bedside and smack the man's head as hard as you can.

"Took you long enough!" You yelled at Jace, glaring at him while the loud echo from the vase rang throughout the room. The man groaned loudly. Jace was about to reply when he saw the way the man's grip on the blade loosened before tightening once more around its handle.

He lunged towards him, pulling the man off of you as he pinned him down on the wooden floor with a loud thump, throwing away the blade from his grip. You pulled up the strings of your gown, running to their side and seeing Jace land a punch on him, the man under him trying to overpower him.

You sighed loudly, dropping down to the draping under the bed as you looked for the blade that Jace took away from the man. Once you managed to grab its handle, you pushed Jace off of him, driving the blade straight into his shoulder. What you did makes Jace's eyes widen. Your jaw clenched while you pulled the blade out before stabbing him once more. This time, in his chest, close to his heart.

His screams filled your chambers; what might sound like pure agony to Jace sounded like music to you. The man could have killed you as soon as you turned around, without any struggle, but it was his biggest mistake not doing so.

Right before you stab him the third time, Jace pulls you off. Taking the blade from your hand and dropping it to the floor. The two of you stare blankly at each other, chests heaving at what just happened. Everything happened so quickly—one moment you two were kissing, and then in the next you were already stabbing someone.

You blinked at the body on the bedroom floor, gulping as you saw the man panting for air, his hand covering the parts you had stabbed.

Jace watched you stare blankly at the body, also shocked at the sudden turn of events.

The two of you looked towards the doorway wherein Jace had entered, seeing Cregan and some of the guards of Winterfell with him. His eyes turned from the body on the floor to you and your bloodied hands, to Jace, and finally to the body laying on the floor. He gives one look to his guards, and they unlock your chamber's door. More men come in as they pull the body away.

Jace approaches your side, just as silent as you were. Cregan walks over to talk to the both of you, not before you beat him to speaking first.

"Me and my husband will be returning to King's Landing at first light on dragonback. Do tell your commanders to notify our guards of the decision." Jace turns to you. "Also, we will be bringing the man with us to face trial on charges of arson and attempted murder against the prince and princess."

Cregan looked to Jace for confirmation, concerned by your blank expression. You kept your face straight as you looked at Cregan, not bothering to look at Jacaerys.

"It is in my desire that you understand and accept my wife's decision, my lord. Her safety had been put at risk, as had mine.” He confirms, warily placing an arm around you.

You tilt your head, waiting for the lord's response. When he accepts your decision, saying that he'll arrange everything, you get to breathe again, walking away from the two men as you opened your cabinet and grabbed a new gown. You turned to them, raising an eyebrow before Cregan nodded, leaving the room and having servants clean the mess on the floor. 

"I told you, didn’t I?" You brought up when you and Jace were alone, the prince glancing at you. "He wasn't nice."

hearts, reactions, replies, and reblogs are very appreciated if you liked the story! <3 ^w^

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[modelbus]

hi!!!!! im new but ive read a lot of your work and its amazing!!

anyway, i was wondering if you could write a either hurt comfort or childhood friends to lovers, as a cc!tommy x fem!reader ?

it would mean a lot thank you !!! 🩷🩷

Why not both? Cue evil grin, mwahaha ;) ALSO! I’m back with that mcyt stuff!!

Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Fem!Reader

Fighting Friends

You’ve known Tommy for as long as you can remember. Apparently memory formation starts when you’re about 6, so you knew there was a time before him, but it certainly didn’t feel like it.

There’s a photo on your desk, framed with a cheap plastic frame. Both of you as kids, him wearing sunglasses and holding a Nerf gun up to your head as you’re caught in the act of stabbing him with a foam sword (he shot you in the forehead after the photo). The picture just about sums up your guys’ relationship. It doesn’t need to be worth a thousand words, just two: fucking chaos.

Or, that’s what you two normally were.

It was a stupid argument, even you knew that. A silly remark you took too hard, something that stung too deep. He said it during a vlog, too. A quip about rather dying than dancing with you. And with those few words, you stupid crush-addled heart shriveled up and was shot through.

So you had retaliated with a poor jab, and he didn't get it, and it all blew up in your faces. To the point where your messages have sat empty for three whole days. There's no "GET ON MC" message from him, no impromptu "Movie now." Just pure radio silence.

And you hate it.

You loved Tommy. Adored the hell out of him, unfortunately for you. And not just because you had a traitorous little crush. He's your best friend. The type of person you always knew would be there.

Right up until he wasn't.

It’s funny how much colder it seems to be now that he’s gone. Winter’s blowing in, like it was just waiting for him to vanish from your life before taking over. It leaves piles of snow that you dredge through to get to your favorite cafe, braving the wind chill just for a semblance of comfort.

You used to go here nearly daily with Tommy, making you dependent on the warm atmosphere that you haven’t been in since five days ago. Have you mentioned how much you hate fighting with Tommy? The disruption to routine, the fucking ache in your heart…

It’s a bit pathetic, honestly. But that’s simply what you are without him. One half of a soul.

The bell chimes, and you drag yourself over to your normal table and pull out your laptop. Even when your world stops, the actual world keeps spinning, meaning you have work to do.

“Hey sweetheart. No shadow?” Your head jerks up, instinctively smiling at Laura, the aged worker who always serves you.

“Not today.” You sigh. “He’s… busy.”

“Too busy for you?” Her eyebrows raise. “That boy will show up eventually for you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, trust me, hon. He’s got those eyes when he looks at you.”

Hell if you know what that means, but you smile at her anyway.

“Want your usual?” She asks.

“Just a water.” You shake your head, the idea of a hot chocolate without Tommy seeming just sad.

Laura nods then heads off as you turn your attention back to your laptop. In the bottom right corner a Discord notification pops up from Wilbur, but you ignore it without even reading the message. You can respond to him later, which you’ll probably do at night while in bed. Procrastinating sleep, per usual.

A mug is set in front of you—definitely not water—making you look up at Laura in confusion. Hot chocolate, complete with your usual whipped cream.

“I—“

“Someone else ordered it for you.” She answers before you can even ask, a sparkle in her eye. Before she steps away, she leans closer and whispers, “I told you that boy adores you.”

Your eyes scan the surrounding area, seeing Tommy almost instantly. Blond hair messed up, his favorite hoodie and jeans on. He makes his way to you, looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out the second he’s close enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Laura step away. “I was an idiot, and I shouldn’t have said half the fucking things I did—“

“At least sit down.” You interrupt, knowing damn well he’d stand there and apologize all day.

Almost instantly, he drops into the chair across from you. You quietly close your laptop, leaving the two of you staring at each other in awkward silence.

“You ordered me hot chocolate.” You say just to break the quiet.

He ducks his head. “You always get it.”

The acknowledgment that you didn’t want to get it without him hangs in the air.

“What’ve you been up to?” You ask politely. Small talk is strained and stupid; you’ve never had to do this with him before.

“Recording and shit. Made a mod video with Schlatt and Wil and Jack. You?”

You drink your hot chocolate while the two of you talk, the argument hanging heavy over your heads like a storm cloud. When you finish the drink, there’s some unspoken consensus that you’ll leave together, him stepping ahead to hold the door for you.

“I scrapped that vlog, by the way.” He’s saying, referencing the one you had filmed with him. “Wasn’t enough content to put in a video.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning, knowing that it was your argument that had made it such a short filming session.

“Why the fuck are you sorry?” He asks, staring at you like you’re an alien. “I’m the one who made that argument a whole fucking thing.”

“You?” You echo. “That was definitely on me, I was so snappish!”

“Bullshit, I started it!”

“In what fucking world did you start it? That was me, Tom, I acted like a little bitch about that one—“

You’re silenced by something, warmth covering your lips before it’s gone as quick as it was there. It’s not until he’s four steps back that you realize what just happened.

He kissed you. He fucking kissed you.

“Fuck— I didn’t— I didn’t meant to do that!” He exclaims, eyes wide. “I mean— Wil told me to just go for it, but I told him he was fucking insane man, I didn’t— I keep fucking this up, don’t I?”

“…so that was an apology kiss?” You ask, confused.

“What? No! I meant I was sorry for kissing you without, Y’know, asking.” His cheeks flush, and it’s not until someone shoves past you that you realize you’ve both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“It’s… it’s fine. Okay, I mean.” You say, almost positive your cheeks are the same shade as his.

Tommy nods. “So I didn’t totally fuck this up?”

“I think you fucked it up a long time ago, Tom. I’m doing charity work sticking around you.”

He laughs, elbowing you as you start walking. “I’m the one doing charity work! I’m a fucking millionaire, you should be paying to be in my presence!”

“Oh, yeah, you kissed me for charity too, huh?”

“Wha— well I— that—“

You laugh loudly, having to look away from him to catch your breath. This was your Tommy, this was what you missed.

“Oh, you asshole!” He groans. “Fine! It was fucking charity, how about that?”

Shrugging, you can’t help your grin. “Just don’t make it charity next time.”

His steps falter, but when you look over at him he’s beaming. “Deal.” He announces, but doesn’t make a move to kiss you again.

“…are you not going to—“

“I have to surprise you. That way it’s fun.”

Oh boy.

[chanstopher]

I don't want this to come off as rude at all,I'm just curious as to why you get so much interaction. your posts always get notes and you seem to answer a lot of asks everyday. I am also a cc in the fandom (I'm on anon because I don't want anyone to judge me for this) and my content flops pretty constantly. I'm just wondering if there is a secret to success I'm not learning or if my content is just garbage. Any advice would be nice!

Hi, I definitely dont think you're being rude, I totally understand being frustrated by numbers on here. i wish i had secrets to share but i really dont. i have a lot of followers so my content is pushed further. using tags properly and becoming friends with other ccs is really good for getting your content seen. ive been lucky enough to have ppl like me for some reason so ppl support my blog when i post things most of the time. i do also have some flops, thats just how tumblr works and some ppl wont agree that your content is good and ignore it.

its harsh to say that and i know that ive had terrible content get a lot of notes because of my blog size. but you just have to keep working at it. try changing up how your content looks (more or less grain, sharpening settings, try unique coloring or try to really work on color correction instead of just making things more vibrant or darker) if u write find other writers, no one supports content like content creators.

as for the asks, i have literally no idea. i am confused as to why people would talk to me constantly abhdjs I just try to be kind and keep my negative opinions to myself unless theyre about ppl stepping over bounds or being mean or rude to skz. i try to just be unapologetically myself tho, posting about chris like a rabid dog or just weeping over how much i love him. it is apparently very relatable lmao

i am not good at making friends, all of the people who i am friends with on here have come to me seeking friendship, but going on anon and talking to ppl or just showing up in tags with fun comments or thoughts or just compliments on the content will make you friends. a lot of ppl have reached out to me just because i was kind to their work.

the only real advice is to not give up. i think blog growth is always slow until you just hit a certain point where for one reason or another you become more known and then it will grow more rapidly, but it can take a while. and it can take you finding what youre really good at, you might have no idea how well you are and gif blends or graphics or even just being someone who updates on activities happening with skz (this site is absolutely lacking a proper skz update blog fsjniss) if you ever want to vent about it i'll listen, and if you ever want to send me your content and ask for critique i can do that too (but it will just be my opinion and im not anything special fhbdjs)

above all else you have to enjoy making things or it is never going to be worth it. no number of notes is going to make u better at any kind of art. only time and effort and enjoyment will.

I'm sorry this is so long and i wish any of it was truly helpful, but tbh i think i just got lucky with tumblr and how much interaction i get :/

[enzombie]

I just finished season 4 and im. Im ruined. Ive already watched the show like 6 times btw but FUCK. GOD DAMN

Blaine being truly honest for the first time in as long as we've known him by telling angus he made the sign from god, only to get a reality check when his dad isnt as selfish and cowardly as he is, except thats such a mindfuck because his dad is a horrible awful child abusive son of a bitch, and it must have been so confusing to watch the church devour fraud bater under angus's orders. How eagerly angus watches blaines reaction, how he so hopes that makes up for everything, its sickening. Especially at the end of their arc where if i got it correctly, enzo sold them out? Told FMG they'd be coming and led them to a trap? And we saw angus and his flock get shot down. I cant help but feel bad for blaine

Peyton refusing to let FMG get away with moving up the time of the execution, marching into that studio and taking iver the broadcast, being the REASON people SHOWED UP at the warehouse and being right there with johnny fucking frost of all people, and ravi right by her side.

Major leaping over the crowd of soldiers to tackle chase, raging out completely and rightfully after all the shit he had to do for what he believed to be the right cause, only for the leader of that cause to spit in his face by trying to execute the love of his life. Because despite everything they still love eachother still and major is so goddamn pissed hes not gonna let another person murder his kids and get away ith it (even tho we saw so little of captain seattle i do not rememebr his actual name. Or jordans half the time)

Liv's stone cold expression at pulling the level and crushing chase's skull, and being so right about it too. Still tho, it wasnt enough to bring levon back, just like every time she tries to do the thing she thinks is right, someone she loves dies for it. When she tries to shoot blaine on sniper brain but cant, lowell tries to and gets killed. When she saves the chaos killer victims and clive from dying to a zombie, that zombie just had to be drake. When she tries to help human-zombie relations (misguidedly) and save lives by being renegade, she gets a front row seat to levons head being crushed. Her pain is so real idec chase is done with. It wasnt a good ending for her and i can feel that so clearly, even with that hopeful ending scene

My friend and I talked abour how selfish Liv can be when we started watching together (her first time), but how selfish can someone be when they give up the cure for their ailment twice for other peoples happiness?

And Chase. God. That entire decline during the latter half of the season was brutal. When thwy announced renegades execution and the video came out, he was done it was over, there was truly no coming back from this. He was so out of it at the point of the supporters breaking in that his voice cracks when he shouts at major to stop and when he says dont shoot and hes scrambling wildly for some form of control, in this case a gun that he places his head right on the gillutine. I think its a mercy that he died so painlessly.

At least Dale and Clive got a happy ending to the season though, getting married and getting the cure. Clive calling liv partner when they were saying goodbye in chase's office, it was just so bittersweet

Hope its okay that this is so long i just wanted to dump my thoughts onto someone ^^ this show is phenomenal i cant recover from this tonight.

DAMN. THATS A LOT OF WORDS. DAMN.

I uh idk how to respond to most of this cus there's so much but I'll try my best (also why this took so long to reply sorry)

Blaine is a mixed feelings character, he's a fan favourite and he's always enjoyable to watch. Angus on the other hand idk a single soul who likes that bitch. Say what you will about Blaine, but Angus was EVIL. Shout out to Enzo for killing him off fr. We are grateful. All my homies hate Angus.

Also Enzo didn't exactly sell them out, he more completely set them up - he went directly to Blaine and Angus to make sure they went the exact route, made sure he was there for all the final plans, he collaborated directly with the US military to get rid of Angus and his pals. Like it wasn't a split second betrayal it was a planned execution, he knew full well Angus would take the bait and was probably hoping Blaine would too. I'm not sure if it was even an official FG operation because as far as we know, Chase didn't hear anything back from Enzo about the church. He didn't tell the press his name, he was the only FG personnel there - I'm sus that he just took it upon himself to deal with them. King behaviour.

And yeah Peyton was girlboss at the end of season 4 but it's like. When her bestie in danger she got all this proactive shit but when she's acting mayor the energies like half that. Makes me mad.

As for major. Little sympathy. Oh did your child soldiers get killed? Maybe child soldiers are a bad idea? Maybe you wouldn't be upset if you didn't have children as soldiers in the first place? Maybe giving untrained children weapons is guaranteed to go badly and end with them injured or killed? Do you think? Like. Honestly. And the way he was with Levon. Major was weird in season 4 idk. And I disagree with them killing Chase. There's so many worse people in the show that she can't bring herself to kill but Chase she executes without hesitation. He wasn't even that bad. I don't think its very fair for him either. Like he was trying his best to keep Seattle under control, and renegade was actively making everything worse. And if you think he was doing a bad job what came after in season 5? With Major: terrorism and hatecrimes peaked and he did nothing, he made Seattle completely reliant on Blaine who (bless him) is not trustworthy and not a good person and is obviously going to be a controversy. With Enzo: the second he took over, Majors mistakes blow up and Seattle dealing with civil war. Not to mention Enzo isn't great at de-escalation, at any point - not even just when he's in charge, since his introduction he walks in and makes situations worse on purpose (can't help being a girlboss)

As for your question about Liv being selfish - it's shortsightedness. She'll do selfless things that make her feel good but she won't consider the consequences. Stuff like giving up the cure is fine, not really any consequences, she gets to help her friends. The renegade stuff, she gets to scratch sick people and feel good about it - but the whole of Seattle gets closer and closer to dying horribly every time she does. It's like only caring about what's directly in front of her. Irritates me a little tbh. Especially when she's one of the only zombies not experiencing the food shortage so it's just this whole privilege thing while thousands of people are at risk.

Clive and Bozzio are so precious I love them so much they deserve everything. That's all.

Anyway, hope you and your friend enjoy season 5✌️

[yesimwriting]

Hi! I have been having an off day I’m kinda exhausted and anxious slightly snappy haha. I was wondering how would the darkling react to an anxious reader that he cares about. 😊

a/n ive been a little MIA but im working i promise!! i felt really apathetic about writing for awhile bc of some personal stuff but ive been trying to get back into it bc im genuinely happier when i write :)

--

- ok so i think how he reacts to an anxious person that he cares about depends on where you're at in the relationship,, which might be kinda a 'duh' but it needs to be said for how im setting this up lol

- bc if he's kinda just starting to figure out his feelings, i think he'd be so surprised by how much he cares that he has to hold back his immediate reactions, bc he may have his faults but he's def protective once he realizes something is affecting/hurting the person he sees as the sun

- that protectiveness stems from wanting to be what makes you happy, he wants to feel like he's your shelter so that he feels like he's good enough for you. He wants you to be happy so he can feel your warmth but he also really wants the redemptive feeling that comes from knowing that he's your protector in a way.

- he wants to protect and make you happy so bad, sometimes you need to be like 'umm...i really appreciate that you want to torture the person that bumped into me a little too hard on a bad day,, but maybe let's not??' especially if you are still in that phase where he kinda scares/intimidates you bc you know him more as the General

- not only are his more over the top reactions a little scary bc you don't want to offend him by not wanting to talk about it to avoid blowing the situation up,, they're also confusing

- bc you had no idea he cared if you lived or died let alone cared if you were nervous or not?? but sometimes it makes you feel really comforted, bc if someone as hardened as the darkling can care that much about how youre feeling than you can't be as awful as you're feeling

- and it's also comforting bc he's clearly strong and powerful and when he puts a hand on your shoulder and stares at you like you're the only tangible thing in the world and telling you that he's not going to let anything happen to you,, the rational part of your anxiety is appeased to say the least.

- alright but that's at like the first stage of the relationship for him, bc i feel like he def has like twenty stages he goes through before finally being in a committed relationship bc even though he wants an attachment and love so badly bc he hates his eternal loneliness, he has a lot of layers to work through before he feels secure enough in you as a person to risk vulnerability

- so if he's at the point where he's accepted what he feels for you,, but has yet to really act on it, this is where he starts to give himself away a little

- like you'll mention being stressed about training in the Little Palace, or not getting along with someone and he immediately jumps to encouraging you. It's kinda funny bc at first he seems like he's just trying to be a supportive pal bc at this point ur sorta friendly (at least more friendly than anyone else is with the darkling) but then he kinda losses himself in talking about how amazing you are.

- and if youre feeling anxiety/bad bc of someone in particular, you better not mention their name unless you're 100 percent sure you're furious at them.

- sometimes it causes some strain bc you don't necessarily want him to get involved, and he's not above lowkey guilting you into telling him the full story, but it's not really intentional. He just starts talking about how much trust he puts in you and you just let the little things go after making him promise to leave things alone.

- if your anxiety is general,, or just bc of a. bunch of little things and he's at a point in which he's accepted how much he cares about you but has not told you yet,, he'll try to hide how soft he feels, but sometimes he slips up.

- honestly, i wouldn't be surprised if a really big relationship milestone came from that.

- like you crying one night and the darkling finding you, and then him taking you back to your room and promising to stay so that you don't have to feel alone and then the next morning you wake up and he's holding you

- at first ur like ?? but he acts so normal you're like maybe that can be platonic? but then it starts happening more and more and neither of you mention it and then when you two finally do get together youre like 'ohh? im stupid'

- and if your anxiety comes from your worry about him?? wow--he'll have to stop himself from kissing you

- this is a man who is so used to being hated/feared that the concept of someone worrying about him so much they physically don't feel well?? that would hit him STRAIGHT in the chest, and he'd be so quick to pull you to him, and then you'd be like--are you ok??

- wouldn't be surprised if that's how you found out he had feelings for you,, like he'd say something like "i didnt know the brightest star in the sky could want to protect the darkness instead of banish it. You're the brightest light I've ever known, it was more than enough for me that you weren't repulsed by my darkness...and now..."

- anyways,, if you were already established together and you were anxious, he would have no need to hold back

- if he notices your hesitant to let him 'help' he might do a thing or two to reduce sources of your stress without telling you...which sometimes leads to you getting a little mad, but depending on how extreme his actions were, he normally smoothes it over quickly

- i mean,, it's just how he shows that he cares, he's never had someone that could snap their fingers and get rid of his adversaries or reschedule a thing or two to make his life easier

- he sees no harm in it,, and even though sometimes other people may give you a bit of a hard time bc of his evident favoritism,, you know it just means he cares

- if he goes really far, you're more willing to be mad at him, but honestly when youre upset all you want is to be near him bc there's nothing more comforting,, so you agree to hold off on arguing lol

- i mean there are always lines that get crossed, so there are times he cant charm himself out of your anger, but the longer youre together the more he tries to hold off on doing things that make you really angry,, unless he feels like the person really hurt you, then nothing can stop his anger

- if youre actually together he's much more quick to comfort you physically if youre feeling really anxious,, he'll kiss you everywhere until he's all you can think about, which works for when your anxious over small things

- if your problem is larger, he cant exactly kiss it away though i cant say that doesnt help but it's still comforting and relaxing bc duh,, so i feel like he's really touchy if youre upset

- kissing sometimes leads to other stuff,, but that should be its own fic/headcanon bc i have a secret head cannon that feeling needed or like the only one his partner has is a turn on for him bc it returns some of the power he feels like he gives up by letting his partner care about him

- might have to write that fic now that im thinking about it....

- if youre so anxious you dont want to be touched, it'll be a little harder for him, but if he reaches for you and you back away he'll try to talk you down and remind you that he's not going to let anything happen and as long as he's breathing he'll make sure you're okay

- if youre officially together and youre anxious about something small, he's actually surprisingly nice to talk to,, before you were close you felt like you were bothering him with small, insignificant things,, but once you know that he cares about you he's a patient listener bc he likes being really present with you when he can bc he's busy so often

- sometimes if youre worried or upset he jumps to anger towards the object of your distress before comfort, but once youre at the dating part, you know that that's just how he is, and anger is how he shows love in a way?? lol, so you just have to clearly tell him that you'd rather him stay with you then rush out and like smite someone, he'll stop and comfort you

- sometimes how much he cares makes him angry at himself bc he begins to question if he'd pick you/your happiness over his goal, if he can't convince himself that you'd never get in the way of that, he gets a little cold until he feels assured in his loyalties or at least assured in the fact that your happiness would never conflict with his goals

- that can happen at any point in your relationship,, i feel like it'd happen more when he's unsure about his feelings bc seeing how much he cares about someone that's nothing to him makes him want to banish his nerves

- overall though,, once he cares about you, whether he's fully accepted it or not, he'd burn the world down to make you feel okay again,, or stay in bed with you for awhile, or both--whatever you want, really

[ladyartemesia]

The Secret

◐ PART IV of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Series Masterlist ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Mature (for this installment)

Warnings: ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat. Jin’s pheromones need their own warning. Yoonji and Yunli are not the same person.

Word Count: 3600

Author’s Note: This update literally made me sob because I edited it and formatted it and it just disappeared when I posted. I seriously felt my heart drop because it took so long to format... ANYWAYS I wonder if anyone guessed the secret.

”You can’t do this, Luna ... Come back inside.”

Your hand tightened on the doorknob.

“I was just going out for some air-”

Jin shook his head, letting his lanky frame collapse onto the overstuffed chair by the fireplace. 

“And after the air... then what?”

Your terse silence was confirmation enough. 

He sighed heavily, hating himself a little for what he had to do. 

“You cannot go to him. They’ll smell you on his skin and it could cost him... dearly.”

Your eyes fluttered shut.

“I just wanted to see him...,” you whispered. “I wanted to talk to him just once before-”

A sob bubbled up in your throat and your hand flew up to cover it. 

The dawn would come in two hours. 

And then Park Jimin would be gone. 

Jin’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and you fell against him hopelessly. 

“They’re going to make me watch, Jin-ah. I-I have to watch him-”

Bitter tears overtook you, wracking your body with the violence of your despair. 

“I know...,” he murmured softly into your hair, “I know.” 

“Do you think he’ll really show up?”

The chief elder glared fiercely at the young man who dared voice such a question. 

The entire pack had jammed themselves into the clearing where the challenge was taking place and despite the solemnity of the occasion, the atmosphere buzzed with barely contained speculation. 

“Park Jimin was chosen by the goddess herself to be her champion or to be the divine test of her champion. Have some respect,” he hissed. 

The young pup had the decency to look abashed, but the chief elder was already ignoring him in favor of the newest arrival... 

A Luna wore only three ceremonial colors at any given time. 

Green for celebration and harvest was worn in times of laughter and gaiety. 

Blue for mourning and peaceful resolve was worn in times of trial and hardship. 

Red for passion and vengeance was worn in times of war and signified the sacred bonds that wove the pack together. 

Your mother laid out a blue cloak as it was the color chosen by every Luna who had ever faced down a provocatione ritual.

But you arrived in sumptuous Red. 

It was a stunning act of defiance, a wordless declaration of your fury. You were here to obey the goddess, but in a crimson cloak you would not embrace this challenge with peaceful resolve. 

An attack upon your mate, even under these circumstances, was an attack upon you. 

You had come dressed for war. 

Jimin heard the gasps echo around his meditation cell.  

He and Namjoon arrived at the sacred circle a full hour before dawn and sequestered themselves in the small, free-standing hovels on opposing sides of the the site. 

The tiny pods were spaces for an individual to commune with the goddess and center themselves before engaging in the typically life-altering events that brought them there. 

Sometimes it was marriage or celebration, sometimes it was acceptance to one of the guilds or a promotion to a higher rank within your family’s clan...

Today it was life and death and the future of the pack that weighed upon the combatants’ shoulders. 

The sudden swell of movement and sound pulled Jimin from his meditative state. 

What happened? 

He got his answer soon after an elder came to escort him into the circle. 

It was you. 

Your hands and feet were bound to the ornately carved chair they had seated you in. This was a typical precaution because it was natural for a wolf to defend their mate if they were in danger and the restraints kept the Luna from doing so. 

The pain in your gaze was agonizing, but in red, flowing down from your shoulders with fiery obstinance, you were every inch the warrior queen. 

Yet it was not your rebellious cloak or even your incredible beauty that caused his heart to pound and stutter in glorious shock...

It was the familiar praesidium bracelet wrapped around your wrist; an intimate message of devotion that he and he alone would understand. 

Pride and possessiveness roared to life in Jimin’s chest. 

She’s mine.

“You look... surprisingly calm.”

Taehyung jerked guiltily. 

“What? Me? I don’t know anything - I mean I’m not calm - I’m frantic. I - I don’t even understand the question.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised right up into his hairline. 

“Taehyung-ah? Did you put those special mushrooms in your broth this morning? You’re acting a bit strange-”

“No,” Taehyung’s voice cracked. “This is me - this is totally normal me. I’m not - there were no mushrooms-” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “So - uh - how’s Yoonji?”

“Oh my go- really?!” 

The chief elder began to recite his speech, reminding the pack of the profound significance this moment carried...

But Yunli could barely hear his words over the ringing in her ears. Her gaze fixed on Namjoon from the moment the elder brought him forward... yet he had not glanced toward her once. 

He looked so strong and confident. 

So capable of victory. 

A faint whimper of abject sorrow worked its way passed her lips and Namjoon’s eyes flew to her instantly. 

As if he had always known exactly where she was. 

Longing split his features for a fraction of a second. 

Then his gaze shuttered again and Yunli’s wolf howled in silent, mournful agony. 

Anticipation bore down upon the assembly as the chief elder uttered the last few sentences with reluctant finality. 

The moment had come.  

Both alphas stepped into the circle. 

You began to tug frantically - futilely - against the bonds. Jin’s hand gripped yours as a tear slipped heedlessly down his cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon whispered - to you - to Yunli - to Jimin -

To himself. 

Then his claws lengthened to a deadly point and he tore forward with a chilling snarl. 

Jimin remained unnaturally still, watching his rival barrel towards him with almost calculated intent. 

Namjoon’s arm drew back to land the first strike and- 

———◐———

Last Night...

———◐———

“Wait - WHAT?!”

“It was... me. I broke the table.”

Taehyung drew back slowly. His eyebrows furrowed in profound confusion. 

“With what? A jackhammer!?”

Jimin tilted his head in amusement. 

“Hammerfist strike... actually.” He shrugged. “I lost my temper.”

“You - You lost your-“ Tae began shaking his head rapidly. “Is it a spell of some sort?! Goddess you know better than to get tangled up with witches! You let them give you a band aid and then they show up ten years later asking for your firstborn!”

Jimin rolled his eyes. 

“Of course not! No... it’s...” he bit his lip. “You remember that time I came to your house a little too early and... Yoonji had you tied to a bed...”

Tae paled. 

“We agreed never to speak of that.”

“And I haven’t - spoken of it - especially since Yoongi still thinks his precious baby cousin is unaware of big bad boy wolves and if he found out you were corrupting her-”

“Wait. You think I was corrupting her?!“

“The point is... it’s a secret. And I know you have your reasons for keeping it that way so... I hope you’ll understand what I’m about to tell you...”

———◐———

Fourteen Years Ago...

———◐———

Jimin’s hands fidgeted nervously over the flyer that the human boy offered him. 

“But I’m only in Seoul for the summer.”

Just long enough to miss Alpha Camp entirely. 

“That’s perfect because it’s only a summer program. Seriously, you were so fast catching that jar I knocked over. Your reflexes are amazing and it looks like you’ve got the perfect build for it too.” He tapped the flyer for emphasis. “Think about it.”

No one had ever told Park Jimin that he would be good at anything like this. In fact most people told him he needed to be better...

Bigger. 

Stronger. 

His eyes traveled over the large letters printed at the top of the brochure. 

“Taekwondo...”

——◐——

“...so thank you all again for signing up and attending the orientation. I will see you tomorrow for our first class.”

A strange sense of anticipation hummed through Jimin as he gathered his coat. He was finally doing something for himself; something that had nothing to do with being an alpha-

“You’re a wolf, aren’t you...”

The young instructor who gave the initial demonstration and spoke for most of the orientation stood behind him with his arms crossed.

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock. 

“How did you know?”

The stranger tapped his nose. 

“My grandfather had a human mate and his pack exiled him for it. I’m mostly human, but this nose can pick up another wolf’s scent just as well as yours.”

Modern packs didn’t exile wolves with human mates anymore, but fifty years ago the practice was still unfortunately common. 

“I’m sorry about your grandfather.”

The young man smiled. 

“He lived a long happy life with his mate and his family. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He stretched out his hand. “Lee Taemin.”

“Park Jimin.”

They shook firmly, and Taemin continued to examine him with unconcealed interest. 

“Tell me, Park Jimin, what’s an alpha wolf doing all the way out in Seoul? The only pack around here married their last child into one of the mountain nations years ago.”

“That was my mother, actually... I’m here visiting my grandmother.”

Taemin tilted his head curiously. 

“I’ve never known wolves to be interested in human martial arts. You lot prefer to fight shifted... In fact, I doubt a mountain wolf could even throw a punch,” he snorted, “not that they’d need to with those fangs.”

Jimin’s shoulders fell a little. 

“So... you don’t think I’ll be good at it.”

“On the contrary, I think you could be incredible.”

The young wolf’s face brightened immediately. 

“Really?! Even if I’m not as strong as other wolves?”

“Taekwondo isn’t about strength. It’s about speed. Master the speed and the strength will follow.”

———◐———

“Relax your body. Focus your energy.”

Jimin drew in a deep breath as he moved  through the pattern Taemin taught him. 

“The power and speed of your wolf is constant, but most wolves do not bother channeling it in human form. Concentrate on your wolf and bring that power into your strike.” 

His hand came down on the thin press wood and-

It hurt. A lot. 

Taemin chuckled as Jimin cussed and swore, cradling his tender fist grouchily. 

“You’ll get it. Just keep practicing.”

“Are you sure I’ll be able to break the boards one day?”

The boy’s face was so round and adorably hopeful. Taemin nodded confidently and offered him some ice. 

“A human with training can break boards, but a wolf who harnessed his natural speed and strength could break much more than that.” 

———◐———

Twelve Years Ago...

———◐———

“You’ve improved a great deal since last summer. Were you finally able to find a teacher near your pack?”

“Yes - but... she’s not as good as you.”

Finding a local Taekwondo teacher had been the easy part. 

Constantly making up excuses to explain his habitual disappearances... 

That was trickier. 

His mother thought he was hunting with Taehyung, Taehyung thought he was sniffing around some human girl and needed a buddy to cover his tracks. 

Sneaking away to practice wasn’t too difficult, but he panicked when Yoongi caught him moving through forms in the woods once and pretended to be doing an interpretive dance. 

With no music.

Yoongi had looked at him a little funny since then. 

Taemin grinned. “Of course she’s not as good as me. I’m the best. Now take position and let’s see if you can finally land this kick.”

———◐———

Ten Years Ago...

———◐———

Jimin glared at the thick oak board Taemin sent him home with this year. 

“It’s a 4x6 solid oak plank. I want you to break it before the winter solstice.”

He snorted, positioning the board between the makeshift vices he fashioned to hold it in place. 

“Sure, I’ll just get right on that.”

“...Who are you talking to?”

Jimin groaned internally.

Of course. 

“Hey guys,” he turned to greet Jungkook and Hoseok brightly (while completely ignoring the question). “Where - where are you two headed today?”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with excitement. 

“One of the elders is going to teach us how to build traps! He invited all the unmated alphas to go with him past the boundary lines to test whatever we make!”

A familiar embarrassment settled heavily in Jimin stomach. 

“Oh... I uh... I didn’t hear that.”

“I’m sure it was just a mistake that they didn’t call for you,” Hoseok rushed to reassure him. “You could come with us. I don’t think the elder would mind.”

The older boy’s gaze was filled with discomfort... and pity. 

Jimin cleared his throat and forced up a sunny smile. 

“No that’s fine - I have work to do anyways so...”

Jungkook nodded quickly, desperate to escape the unexpectedly awkward conversation. 

“Have fun!” he shouted, already beginning to jog away. 

Jimin watched quietly as their figures grew smaller, waiting till their clumsy steps no longer disturbed the stillness around him. 

He should be used to it by now... 

The passive rejection. 

It shouldn’t bother him anymore. There was no malicious intent... just casual dismissal again and again and again-

An angry roar tore past his lips as he brought his hand down on the board. 

It cracked in half. 

———◐———

Eight Years Ago...

———◐———

“It’s strange but - I feel like the better I become at this, the stronger my wolf is.”

“That isn’t strange at all. You and your wolf are two halves of a whole. The more you balance your energy, the more your strengths can be shared. Now - stop stalling and get to it.”

Jimin eyed Taemin’s latest idea with a reluctant groan.

“None of the other students have to break cinder block.”

“None of the other students are wolves. Besides, it’s been 6 years, you’ve broken stacks of boards. It’s time for a real challenge.”

“I’m lucky I haven’t broken a bone,” Jimin mumbled irritably. 

He did that day, but it was healed in a week and he broke his first cinderblock a month later.

———◐———

Five Years Ago...

———◐———

“Remember, timing is everything. Never let your opponent see what you’re going to do.”

“How many times do you think I’ve heard that over the last ten years?”

“Not enough, clearly. You’re still telegraphing with that right foot.”

Jimin’s left hand shot out and connected with Taemin’s jaw.

“Am I?”

Taemin blinked up at him from the floor. 

“Ok. I admit. That was pretty impressive.”

———◐———

Three Years Ago...

———◐———

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I was looking for Jin.”

Jimin scrambled to his feet, dumping the pile of pebbles he collected (for his mother’s garden) noisily to the ground.

“Luna...”

He took a discreet step backward as your gaze scanned the area in frustration. 

“You haven’t seen my cousin, have you?”

Jimin gulped. 

He had seen Kim Seokjin - leading a curvy beta girl (nose first no doubt) in the direction of the old wading pool. It took every bit of self-restraint he possessed not to laugh out loud each time Jin bashfully declared that he was a ‘good boy’ and to ‘be gentle with him,’ - after all, he’d given the same speech to two other she-wolves last week. 

Best not to scar her for life. Some things cannot be unseen.

His mind darted briefly to the scene he’d walked into at Taehyung’s house yesterday.

“I have no idea where Seokjin is, Luna.”

You sighed, gnawing absently at your lip while you considered his words, and Jimin felt a familiar hint of futile longing whisper through him. 

He’d never been so close to you, and now that he was, his wolf was making all sorts of insane suggestions to keep you near. 

Do a backflip. Climb a tree. Build her a house. 

Jimin bent quickly to gather his scattered stones, ashamed at the direction of his thoughts. 

You were so incredibly beautiful...

It was almost enough to make him forget that he would only ever be Park Jimin.  

He couldn’t blame the others for fighting and fawning over your attention like they did. You were the moon and every man around you was drawn in like the tide. 

“Today is my seventeenth birthday, you know.”

Jimin looked up to discover that you had moved much closer and were now looking down at him expectantly. 

He blinked. Twice. 

“I - yes. I did know.”

The entire pack was celebrating. He’d have to be comatose not to know.

“Should I save you a dance, Park Jimin?”

Up until that exact second, Jimin would have bet his life savings that you did not know his name. 

Yet here you were - so very close to him - gazing down into his eyes almost shyly.

He nodded because he couldn’t think of a single reason not to give you anything you wanted. And when you smiled so brilliantly -  he almost believed that you truly wanted to dance with him...

Almost. 

He never went to your party. 

He never danced with you.

Not that day. Not ever.

Because deep down he suspected that if he held you in his arms - even once - he would never truly let go. 

He was sure you wouldn’t notice his absence...  You wouldn’t remember talking to him by the time the evening rolled around. 

He never saw you search the crowds for his face right up until the midnight bell. 

He never saw you turn down dance after dance hoping that the beautiful boy from the forest would finally come and take your hand. 

He was your only wish that birthday. 

But he never knew. 

———◐———

One Year Ago...

———◐———

“I’ve never seen anything like your skill. You’ve long since surpassed me. I’m not sure what more I can teach you,” Taemin smiled, bumping Jimin on the shoulder, “Perhaps you should find a woman and spend a little less time practicing.”

An unwelcome flash of silver eyes and a laugh like sunshine danced through his mind. 

“No. I’m... not really the type wolf girls go for.” 

Taemin snorted. 

“I don’t believe that. Aren’t you an alpha?”

“Yes, but it’s... complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?”

Jimin laughed. 

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

Silence settled comfortably between them as they nursed several bottles of soju on his grandmother’s porch. Taemin had charmed the old hellion quite thoroughly and he would often drop by for a visit even when Jimin was back home with his pack.

“So what will you do now?” he asked. “You can’t compete. I can barely withstand sparring with you, and you’d kill a human - even if you landed a blow at half strength.”

Jimin ran his fingers absently through his hair while he pondered his mentor’s words. 

“I learned to fight because I was searching for something that would help me sort out who I was.” He scoffed. “I don’t know that I’m any closer to that goal.”

Taemin shook his head. 

“No. I think you’ve got it all wrong, Park Jimin. No one achieves what you have without knowing who they are. You’ve always been a fighter and some part of you realizes that.” He sighed heavily and finished off the rest of his drink. “Now I think you’re just... waiting.”

“For what?” Jimin chuckled playfully. 

Taemin pulled out another bottle and met his gaze with a knowing grin. 

“Something worth fighting for.”

———◐———

Now...

———◐———

Jimin remained unnaturally still, watching his rival barrel towards him with almost calculated intent. 

Namjoon’s arm drew back to land the first strike and- 

It was fast. 

So fast it almost seemed like magic. 

One moment the Kim alpha was the barest breath away from a swift and decisive victory-

Then he was crashing backwards onto the dirt. 

Those who watched carefully saw Park Jimin spin into a vicious kick, one that connected solidly with the middle of his opponent’s chest. 

Stunned silence pressed in from every side as Namjoon scrambled back to his feet, his expression wavering wildly between excruciating pain and monumental shock. 

Jimin smiled, letting his razor sharp canines lengthen menacingly as he flowed back into a perfect combat stance. 

“You didn’t think I’d just let you have her, did you?”

Please comment if you would like to be added to the taglist! If you have already asked, you will be tagged automatically in every update. 

Please please please let me know what you thought of this chapter! (*insert puppy face here*) I am so excited to hear what you think of everything that went down in this update and I savor each word of feedback like fine wine. Your theories and commentary have been such a gift. It truly keeps me writing. 

[baguettehead]

Quarry days

Stan Uris x they/them reader

warnings: some curse words, richie tozer, lil bit of angst, possibly based off of real situations, lil bit of Reddie ;)

Summary: You’ve always had a thing for the brown eyes and mop of curly hair, the voice that made you melt like a Popsicle, but what if you added in scheming friends, darkness, missing gas, and maybe a turtle.

_____________________________________________________

   You had known the losers since 6th grade. That was the year your parents decided to make the move from Michigan to Derry, Main. You moved around a lot, and you weren’t even an army brat, your parents just seemed to enjoy hopping from place to place. Your parents owned their own business, all the work was mostly online so it was pretty easy to just up and leave. You were born in Washington state, lived their for a while, then you lived in California for a few years, Colorado for a singular year, Michigan, and now the shithole that is Derry, Maine.

    You had no idea why your parents chose Derry, there really wasn’t much here. A few nice shops, a pretty decent arcade, old people with sticks up their butts, and what you thought to be a normal group of neighborhood bullies.

    When you moved to Derry you had no one, and at this point you didn’t care enough to try and make friends, you didn’t know if you were staying long. After an tantalizingly long day of being forcefully introduced to classmates and eating lunch alone, in the library, you honestly just wanted a nap.

  Leaving the school you were suddenly pushed into the wall next to you, your bag thrown off your shoulder, and coming face to face with the wonderful scent of vodka and utter shit. Must be Bowers. He held you by the shoulder of your shirt with his right hand and with his left he put his forearm on your neck, effectively trapping you to the wall

  This was your first encounter with the infamous gang, but you’d heard about them from the few conversations you’d had with kids in classes and passing periods. Let’s just say, he was as disgusting as you’d heard. Has he ever tried a toothbrush before??

  “Look at this” he spoke, looking back to his gang of douchbags “Fresh meat” his goons laughed a little while you just rolled your eyes, you’d dealt with your fare share of bullies and asshats that you simply couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore

 “look” you said in an exasperated sigh “i don’t have cash, my mom packs my lunch”

  “well then” Bowers said “you’ll just have to pay me in another way darling” a disgusting grin overtook his face and his goons began laugh and cheer like they just took a shit on the toilet for the first time

  “i’m good” you spoke calmly as you attempted to leave his grasp. Bowers just stared down at you confused for a second before he snapped back into action and held you a little tighter

 “it wasn’t a question” he seethed through closed teeth

 “and i wasn’t giving a suggestion dipshit”

 Henry’s jaw tightened and you could practically see the anger bubbling inside him while his group of misfit toys got real quite

“now listen here you little bit-”

“no you listen asshole” you cut him off  “i don’t have time to deal with insecure little boys who didn’t get mommy’s attention as a child and now take it out on all those around him” you spoke quickly faking a pout and slowly worming your way out of his grip “your just some stuck up prick who relishes in the hurt of others because you are so hurt that your deranged little brain finds pleasure making other miserable so that you can fake happiness. News flash, hurting others won’t make you happy, you’ll always be an attention deprived, whiny ass child who probably won’t live past their 30′s, will definitely have a substance abuse issue, and even as a 15 year old attempts to drown his sorrows in vodka and punching kids smaller than him for fun” you finished your little rant, taking in a short breath “now” you continued, marveling at the befuddled looks on all their faces “i have a can of pepper spray in my back pocket and if one of you little rascal looking ass children comes any closer i’ll mace you in the face. Got it”

 As soon as you finished you slipped from his grasp and starting running like hell towards your house. You could hear him screaming profanities, and you knew you were now on his hit list, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to give a shit.

 Once you knew you were far enough, you knew he wouldn’t follow you but didn’t want to risk it, you sat on the curb to catch your breath. Almost immediately you saw 4 bikes coming around the corner, the occupants stopping in front of you and throwing their bikes down.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT THAT WAS INCREDIBLE”  the one with coke bottle glasses screamed at you practically screamed at you, you returned a weak smile

“H-h-he’s gonna f-f-fu-fucking kill you” another rushed out

 You shrugged your shoulders “ive got a at least a few days” you told them “i wounded his masculinity, gotta build that back up” you muttered

 “I can’t believe you did that” the one with the fanny pack stated as he started to pace in front of you “i mean, now bowers and his whole gang are gonna be on your ass” he stopped in front of you and made direct eye contact “your gonna have to watch for him at all times” he deadpanned and you grimaced a little bit

“don’t worry” coke bottle glasses spoke up again “bowers is always on our asses so we can show you the best place to avoid him”

 “a-and the hallways to a-a-avoid h-him” the dirty blonde spoke up

you smiled up at them “i’d actually quite like that”

“Then welcome to the losers club y/n” the forth boy spoke up as he held his hand out for you, the one with curly hair and amazing eyes. You had him in two of classes and he always seems to catch your eye. You took his hand and he helped you off the curb before they gave you their unofficial, official, tour of the town.

 After that you were practically glued to the four boys, you did everything with them now. And if it wasn’t all of them, you were with at east one practically at all times.

You told them about your moving adventures, even opening up about your constant fear that your parents are gonna pack up and leave forcing you to leave them, and earning Richie’s nickname for you Cali. For some reason Richie couldn’t seem to let go of the fact that you lived in California, asking questions about it whenever there was downtime, and telling you about his dream of living there one day and making it big. You always told him that he could do it, because you truly believed he could.

Soon Bev, Mike, and Ben joined the group, making it 8. You gained your ‘secret’ clubhouse, and Bill, Mike, Stan, and Richie all got their licences.

 Now its junior year, you’ve made it almost 5 years in Derry, and you’ve gained the closed friends you’ve ever had

_________________________________________________

“You guys wanna go to the quarry after school?” Richie asked, his mouth half full of turkey sandwich and pretty much yelling over all the noise in the cafeteria. You shuddered and watched as Eddie slapped his shoulder and scolded him for talking with his mouth open, Rich pouting like a child. You loved watching them, a knowing smile on your face.  

 “sounds like fun” Bev voiced “y/n and i just went swimsuit shopping and they looked killer in their suit” she smirked at you from down the table while you blushed and rolled your eyes

“i mean i’d prefer to see the suit on the floor but whatever your comfortable with” Richie commented

you threw a baby carrot at his face, which he caught in his mouth promoting cheers from the others and for you to dissolve into laughter

“i is s-s-s-supposed to be like n-n-ninety degrees today” Bill added in

“oh fuck that” you groaned as you lent your head on stand shoulder next you and continued munching on your carrots, missing how he smiled down at you

“quarry it is!” Richie exclaimed before everyone else fell back into their conversations

“sooooo” you heard Stan draw out from above you, moving your head to look up at him but leaving it resting on his shoulder “will i get to see this new suit you apparently look amazing in?” he questioned while wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way. You simply laughed, shoving his shoulder and telling him to shut up.

You’ve had a crush on Stan since 7th grade. You always thought he was attractive, like REALLY attractive, but after getting to know him and spending time together you knew you were fucked.

Bev has tried convincing you that he likes you back but, something in your brain just can’t accept it. She’s gone on and on about how ‘different’ he acts around you, how hes “not such a stuck up prick, he like, actually kinda nice and soft”, her words exactly. But, that was just the Stan you knew, the one you always saw. Caring, kind, funny, and enjoyable.

Bill drove you and Bev to her house, where your suits where from the last time you slept over like 4 days ago, and then took you both to the quarry. Once you got there you saw all the other cars and heard splashing and screaming.

“Those assholes went without us” Bev cried as she ripped the car door open, bolting for the cliff and immediately jumping off. You and Bill just laughed and sat there for a moment.

“r-ready m’lady?” Bill asked as he left the car and extended a hand for you

laughing, you took his hand “Of course good sir”

Bill was already in his trunks so after the short walk up the hill he plunged into the water , full cannonball, soaking almost everyone except Mike who swam out of the way. You watched from the top, laughing as they splashed each other back and forth. Sometimes it was nice to just watch their antics and relish in the moment.

“you coming sweet cheeks” Richie yelled up to effectively drawing every ones attention you

You blushed at the sudden attention “Whatever Tozier” you yelled back before you began stripping down to your swim suit.

Unbeknownst to you at the top of the cliff, you had some effect on poor Stan down in the water. He sat with his eyes glued to you as you exposed more and more skin. He’s seen you in a swimsuit before, hell he’s even seen you in your panties, but every time it still manages to make his mouth go dry and eyes widen.

“They’ll catch you drooling if you stare too long” Richie quipped with a smirk

“Shut it Tozier” he murmured lowering into the water to hide his blush right as you jumped from the cliff.

The eight of you spent hours in the water. Chicken fights, splash wars, and Richie attempting to dunk you, Bill even found a turtle which he claimed meant good luck. You only got out of the water for a bit to dry off before leaving. You and Bev lie on the rocks to dry off and maybe tan, that was, before Mike carried a bucket of water over and splashed you both with started yet another splash war. You finally got out when the sun started to set. You sat around and talked, told stories, before you had to leave. You were all still pretty wet but you didn’t care.

Stan had offered you a ride earlier and you happily agreed, knowing you’d get some alone time with him and ice cream if you begged hard enough.

You layed back on the rocks, to watch the sunset and see the stars starting to pop out.

“alright were heading out” Richie suddenly said

 Mike had already left, taking Ben with him due to their stricter curfews. But Rich was taking Eddie and Bill Bev.

“What, why?” Stan said, narrowing his eyes as if he knew they were plotting something

“j-just tired is all” Bill replied casually before he began walking to his car

“bye” Eddie chimed in

“Bye Edds!” you called back

“wait why can she call you that” Rich argued walking side by side with Eddie

“cause i actually like them” He replied casually with a shrug

Richie just huffed and pouted like a child before Eddie nudged his shoulder and he was all smiley again

“See you at school” Bev called, sending a wink in your direction which you replied to with an eye roll

As they walked towards their cars and began to drive away Stan turned towards you “That was suspicious right?”

“completely” you replied climbing down from the rock you previously lied on

“Okay good, it wasn’t just me” he said with a sigh

You laughed a bit “But when are they not suspicious?”

“You got me there” he said before he leaned back on the rock behind him

You crawled over to sit next to him, laying your head on his shoulder and just admiring the sunset. You both sat like that for a while, surrounded by comfortable silence.

One thing about Derry was that no matter how hot the days were the nights seemed to always be freezing, accompanied by wind. You crossed your arms over yourself in hopes of generating more body heat.

“Are you cold” Stan asked taking notice of your shivering form

“Just a bit” you answered not wanting to ruin the comfortable bubble you’d found yourselves in

“i have a blanket in my car” he started to stand up only for you to groan and cling on to his arm. Laughing, he sat back down and you cuddled into his side.

“you’ll catch a cold babe come on” you blushed at the pet name and melted even further into his side when he started combing through your hair with his fingers. Noticing that you weren’t going to budge he huffed a bit, though, he didn’t want to move either.

“I’ll get you ice cream” he sighed

You bounced up with a goofy grin on your face, pulling his hand towards the car

“Lets not waste time” you started “i’m in critical condition, need creamed ice immediately” you feigned sick with a hand to your forehead and pouty eyes. He only laughed, getting up and heading to the car, his hand never leaving yours as you walked to the car.

“what the fuck” he muttered as you reached the car

Tucked under the windshield wiper of his car was a note that said ‘use protection’, clearly in Richies handwriting, and a roll of condoms

You blushed lightly, giggling a bit. Stan looked to with a puzzled expression on his face “i don’t know” you shrugged trying to prove your innocence.

“I don’t understand half the things he does” you comment as you climb into the passengers seat

“does anyone?” he questions with a laugh

Stan throws the note and condoms into the center console before starting up the car. Your bouncing in your seat, the anticipation of ice cream making you giddy and Stan laughs at that. Well, the car doesn’t start. Stan tried multiple times, clearly getting frustrated

“uh Stan” you try and grab his attention, it works, anytime you talk Stan always has his full attention on you. You point towards the gas meter, which displays empty.

 “I literally got fucking gas on the way here what the fuck” he exclaims as he gets out of the car, you follow. You see him stop and stare at the gas tank opening

“what?” you question before reaching the other side of the car and falling silent

Right below the gas tank, on the ground, lays a rubber pipe.

“Did they fucking siphon my gas?!” He yells

You stand there for a moment longer, staring at the gas lined pipe, before you break out into hysterical laughter. The pure kind that comes from the belly and leaves you gasping for air with side cramps

“its not funny” he yells

you try to talk but it just dissolves into more hysterics and soon enough Stan is laughing with you, your laugh is just contagious and your radiant smile that could light up the entire galaxy never fail to make him follow along.

After you both calm down, clutching your bellies, you break the silence

“so, what do we do now?” you look over to Stan who’s sitting next to you on the curb

“i guess i’ll call Rich and have him come pick us up” you nod

He stands up, pulling out his phone and calling Rich. You sort of zone out, guess you were more tired than you thought, but your brought back to earth by Stan yelling into the phone. All you could catch was

“what?! No! Hey no no no” and “Fucking asshole” as he ended the call. You new what was coming but you asked anyways

“so?”

“He said hes not coming” Stan sighed in defeat as he sat next to you and lied his head on your shoulder. Your hand immediately immersed itself in his hair, gently scratching his scalp and brushing through his curls. You sighed wondering how the fuck you were gonna get out of this one.

“what about Mike and Bill?” you questioned

“in on it” he sighed out and you hummed in response. You both sat there for a moment, in comfortable silence, trying to calm Stan down.

“did he say anything els-”

“do you like me?” Stan’s head rose from your shoulder, looking you in the eyes and cutting off your sentence. You felt your mouth go dry, eyes widening, cheeks getting hot and probably bright red.

“i- uh- well” you stuttered out, really having no clue how to answer that question

“I mean” he started, sighing and nervously running a hand through his head of wild curls “not in a …. friends way” he finished slowly, meeting your eyes

He had a blush of his own covering his cheeks and his marvelous brown eyes danced all over your face as if looking for the answer there. You sat there staring at him for what felt like forever, running over your choices. Just as the though of running away and joining the circus came into your mind you felt a surge of confidence and smashed your lips into his.

He tasted like mint, salt, and something you could only describe as Stan.

Your lips moved together perfectly, dancing around each other in the best dance you’d ever preformed. Teeth hitting teeth as the years of desperation and pining were finally put to a rest. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you into his lap to straddle him, as yours wound around his neck and wove into his hair.

You both pulled away panting. His lips barely leaving yours, still ghosting over them like a precursor for whats to come. You stared into his eyes, you could get lost in those brown orbs so easily, drowning hopelessly in their beauty and dying happily. Stan was the first to break the silence

“yes?” he questioned

you threw your head back and laughed heartily. The sight alone made him melt in your hands and the sound dug his grave. The brilliant smile you flashed him afterwards felt like the afterlife and when you leaned down to capture his lips one again he knew he was in heaven.

“yes” you breathed as you pulled away from him, as difficult as it was

Stan smiled so brightly and let out a little cheer before falling right back into your lips and kissing you more passionately than anyone ever has and you doubt anyone ever will. There you sat, Straddling Stanley Uris in an empty parking and kissing him until you were gasping for breath.

You pulled away from Stan, leaning your forehead on his, pressed into his chest, barely inches away. He leaned up and peppered your face in small kissing causing you to break into giggles.

“I love you y/n y/l/n” he spoke softly into the night air

You stared into his chocolate eyes, in complete euphoria

“I love you too Stanley Uris” you told him with the most confidence you have ever had in a statement.

[highpriestessofjogan]

Every once in a while I’m not in the mood to write fiction...

Sometimes I like to do literary analysis for funsies, or, surprisingly enough thanks to the content of this post, music analysis as well.

When I first watched Guardian, there was one song that stood out to me more than most of the others from the OST.  It was always used in the scenes with more emotional weight, and was so haunting that it lingered in my mind long after the scene had passed.  Once I was able to hunt the soundtrack down on Amazon (a feat that was much more difficult than it should have been imho) I came to learn that this song was actually Shen Wei’s theme.  Shen Wei’s theme was in all of the emotionally hard hitting scenes and haunted me for long after the show had finished.

One day I was driving to work and I was just looping it over and over for my entire commute.  It’s an hour long commute ya’ll.  Just that song, over and over and over (and I’ve played it for several hours on a loop before and I have no doubt I will do it for many more times to come, this song is beautiful and haunting and I love it to death).  As I listened I started to make some realizations, and as those realizations came to light it left me even more heartbroken than originally.

The Shen Wei OST is a perfect character journey.  It tells his story in a way that words simply could not come close to.  I’ve tried to sum up my best analysis of this song and what it means, and I’m sure I don’t even come close to what Luo Kun intended when he composed the song, but I hope that he would at least agree I have parts of it right.

I’m going to put the actual analysis beneath a “Read More” so please, drop me a line if you like what you read or if you want to discuss it further.  I’d love to chat about this!  It’s broken up into five distinct movements that I think relate to different points in Shen Wei’s life, and I should mention that this is looking at the character purely from the perspective of the drama.  At some point I might go back and see if I can tie it into the novel at all, but that has not been taken into consideration here.

I’d like to state above the cut that my thanks go out to @elvencantation and @eirenical for looking over my initial drafts and giving me their opinions and helping with musical instrument identification.  I might come back and clean this up someday, but for right now, I wanted to get something out there for everyone to read.  I hope that you enjoy it.

Part I. Gege (0:00 - 0:35)

There is a very melancholy feel to the song, but it also has the quiet grace and strength that the audience can always associate with Shen Wei.  This is the beginning of his journey though.  This is a young boy caring for his brother.  A boy who tries to protect and is cast aside, thrown down to the dirt, and returns too late to save the one remaining person still precious to him.  The beginning of this song paints the picture of a solitary figure against the horizon, short in stature from age and inexperience, a blade much too big gripped in too small a hand.  The piano solo here emphasizes his lone search for his brother and hoping against all hopes that he might one day find him and the two of them could be reunited. 

Part II. Xiao Wei (0:36 - 1:08)

At 37 seconds in the strings make their entrance.  I like to think it was a deliberate choice to have Zhao Yunlan pick up the violin during the Tan Xiao and Zheng Yi case, because I firmly believe the strings in this soundtrack are supposed to represent Zhao Yunlan just as the piano represents Shen Wei.  These 32 seconds represent the Shen Wei that we see during episodes 34 and 35 in Ye Olde Haixing Era.  A bright eyed energetic young warrior who cares about his men despite his position.  He hides his fear behind a mask, under a hood, and does what he can to help in the war.  But here is also when Kunlun arrives.  A famous general who miraculously takes an interest in HIM.  And what has he done to warrant such attention? The kindness that he is shown here helps to shape him, mold him into a stronger warrior, a stronger person, but it will be millennia before he will learn why Kunlun saw him for the person he was rather than the blade and power he wielded.

The strings here do not try to overwhelm the piano here, even though they easily could.  Instead they seem to try to entwine with the notes from the piano and guide them.  It’s a graceful dance between the two that represents the close partnership that Shen Wei and Kunlun shared during the war.

Part III. The Black Cloak Envoy (1:09 - 1:39)

This part of the song is particularly interesting to me.  The piano is still present, but the tune has changed, the same for the strings, but now the sounds of a woodwind have joined the other two.  It’s at this point Shen Wei has woken up after 10,000 years.  He’s thrust into a new world that he must learn, and a Dixing that is far worse off than he ever imagined it would be.  He is a legend, but he does not try to take power.  His duty is still his to fulfill, but he does not seek to take power aside from that.  This is the new life that he forges for himself, from who he was as a boy, to who Kunlun helped him become, but this is something he creates to survive in a world that is unfamiliar to him.  

Now he is not needed as just a blade, although he will be that when it is necessary.  Now he can pursue his love and inherent gift for learning.  This is the man who emerges from the ground and takes up bioengineering as a field of study.  This is the person who befriends Cheng Xinyan and probably has more than one or two study sessions with her.  This is the college student that I’m sure was dragged to at least one karaoke night to blow off some steam, and may have discovered his aversion to alcohol that same night.  This is someone who lived.

Part IV. Professor Shen (1:40 - 2:11)

The woodwind fades out and we are left with the string and the piano once more.  The string though is more like the tide, pushing and pulling against the piano, but that is very fitting for the section of the song, and Shen Wei’s life, that Zhao Yunlan is introduced into.  The strings surge forth and ease back, pushing Shen Wei for answers, but also easing back when he seems ready to break.  The piano has returned to its tune from the first two movements, and it’s probably due to the uncertainty that Zhao Yunlan has brought into his life.  Why has Kunlun suddenly reappeared and why is he acting like he doesn’t know who Shen Wei is?  Why does Da Qing not remember him?  In the face of these questions he retreats to who he was before, until he can determine what the best course of action to take is.  If Kunlun is testing him or doesn’t remember too he doesn’t want to risk the chance that the man will not recognize him.  This could be why we see the fond smiles and confused blinks, aspects that are so inherent to his character.

Part V. Shen Wei (2:12 - End)

I’m not going to lie, it was coming up with this part that really broke my heart.  The strings remain, but fade to the background and are only faintly known.  The piano has returned, and is at the forefront once more with no question as to who the lead is.  Through all the changes in his life, he has come to realize who he truly is.  He is a brother who is afraid he has failed his twin.  A warrior and leader afraid he has failed his people.  A man afraid that he will lose everything, but willing to make that sacrifice to save his friends and family, to keep the man he loves safe.  He is no longer just a blade to be used.  He has a purpose, one that has not been forced on him but that he has chosen for himself.  

This is the Shen Wei who decides to use the light energy from Zhao Yunlan to make himself a living bomb.  The man who decides that if his brother cannot be made to stand down then he will force him to.  This is the man who looks into the eyes of his lover as he lays bloodied and broken on the ground, who sees all that they could have had in their lives, and silently begs forgiveness even as he makes the ultimate sacrifice.  

And then the song fades out with the slowing piano notes, just as Shen Wei’s life ends with the slowed beating of his heart...

[jaekaicx]

so ive had this idea for an amphibia fangame for a lil while now-

(LONG post)

its based around the idea that sometime after anne got sent back to earth, she decides to sneak out one night to visit sasha and marcys bedrooms and poke through their stuff. this causes a bunch of memories to come back to anne through flashbacks while she tries to process everything thats happened and her feelings abt their friendship.

i was thinking itd be mostly a visual novel type thing. maybe with a few small choices, but the story would be mostly linear. thered be around 3 main story beats: a prologue bit w/ anne sneaking out of her house, marcys bedroom, and sashas bedroom. also one of the main mechanics would be looking at one of their bedrooms and clicking on random objects of importance and triggering a flashback sequence.

it came from the idea that anne will probably try to just shove all her emotions down and try to ignore her feelings abt true colors and everything that went down then. especially with what we saw in the sneak peek, anne will probably try to hide her emotions and bottle them up, which is obviously not healthy. so eventually shes gonna have to work through her emptional baggage and try to process everything.

i havent thought through EVERYTHING just yet, just some more major plot points and maybe one or two ideas for flashbacks. nothing too solid yet. but heres a bit more detailed runthrough of the plot

summary - prologue

so it would start off with anne at home. she and her mom are talking outside annes room. her moms concerned abt how annes been handling everything that happened in amphibia but anne keeps brushing everything off. her mom tries to get her to open up, but she keeps dismissing her and eventually shuts herself in her room. after taking a bit to cool off and think anne decides that shes gonna take the night to just ride off her emotions and stop repressing them for once. she also makes an impulsive decision to sneak out and check out marcy and sashas rooms.

anne goes to gather her stuff in her room, and just as shes about to climb out the window, sprig walks in to check on her. hes still rly concerned abt his big sis but he knows he cant stop her. he tries to go with anne, but she tells him she needs to do this on her own. so, sprig lets her go and tries to cover for her while shes gone.

so at this point i’ll probably give the player the choice of whose house to visit first. it doesnt rly impact the story or whatever, but i guess it might have a small emotional impact depending on whose house u choose to go to first??

(quick note: after this bit, there arent too many specific details for the plot and stuff like that. its largely just an overall idea of how the plot is gonna go. and even then, there isnt much to it. i didnt think that far ahead yet, which is why there isnt as much refinement yet. so far i just have general ideas for how annes gonna get to the bedrooms, with a couple of vague flashback ideas. just keep that in mind; this whole thing is still being thought over and planned as im typing this out)

summary - sasha

with sasha, annes still rly conflicted abt how she feels abt her. of course shes still rly hurt by being backstabbed by her twice and swordfighting her as many times. but as much as she hates sasha she cant bring herself to fully give up on sash. she hates her guts but deep down shes still willing to give sash another chance.

there may or may not be a small sequence where anne has to sneak into sashas house, but eventually she works her way into sashas room. im not entirely sure abt the details of sashas house n her family yet. im probably gonna wait for info from s3 until i solidify anything, but for now i do know that sashas family has a big house n theyre probably rich.

so anne goes into sashas room and its been left pretty much untouched ever since annes birthday, save for the few times someone came in to dust things off. again, dont rly have all the details for sashas room, but it kind of has a vibe of controlled chaos, with organized clutter and a bit of a touch of a rebellious teen girl. one detail i do want to have is a calendar opened up to the month the trio disappeared, with annes birthday circled and highlighted so much that its impossible to miss.

the calendar itself might include a flashback. im thinking of also having a varsity jacket and some old stuffed animal be different “artifacts” that trigger their own memories. there’ll be a bunch more, but those are the only ideas i have so far fjsbndnd

summary - marcy

ok so i want to be rly mean about marcys segment: this is going off the theory that marcys parents moved away while the trio was in amphibia.

anne doesnt know this yet tho, so shes in for quite a surprise when she turns onto marcys street to find a realtor sign on the front lawn. the clues are all there: an empty driveway, sign on the lawn, an overall empty vibe coming from the house. but it doesnt completely register at first. its not til anne actually comes up close does she notice the sign.

anne tries to deny it, and decides to prove to herself that “no marcys parents wouldnt do this. theyre not that cruel. im just gonna check marcys room myself.” the front doors locked, so she just goes over to marcys window and climbs in.

but its completely empty.

ok not totally empty, but a lot of marcys furniture and stuff is gone, except for a few stray toys and other “junk.” the home guys (idk what theyre called????) are still kind of in the process of cleaning everything out, so theres still some stuff left here and there around the house. but its still way too empty. and its yet another gut punch for anne.

anne searches the rest of the house a bit more, hoping that shes just hallucinating. but no, marcys parents are really gone. she tried to deny it before, but now she has more of an idea of how shitty the wu parents are. so anne decides to just mope around in marcys old room, checking out the stuff their parents left behind.

maybe she finds an old blanket marcy liked when he was rly young. or an old rubiks cube from marcys vast collection. a cnc figurine, some cards, a pride flag, and old diary? a couple of other old toys, an old report card or two, or maybe even some stray clothes. whatever anne finds, its all thats left of marcy, at least in LA.

it really doesnt leave anne in that much of a better emotional position. she already felt conflicted enough about what happened in true colors and what she found out abt marcy. but seeing even a small glimpse of what marcy was dealing with, it just makes her more confused. marcy was such a sweet kid! theres no way they couldve done anything wrong. yet here anne was, betrayed by both of her childhood friends.

only now is anne really taking the time to process the fact that marcy essentially kidnapped her and sasha with the calamity box. he didnt mean to do it, and theres no way they couldve known the box would actually work, but it doesnt completely excuse marcy. his actions still hurt anne and sash, and while they meant the best of intentions, it didnt rly come through that way.

and now marcy was dead. stabbed in the back by the newt king.

and now annes curled up in an empty bedroom, wrapped up in one of marcys old blankets, trying to wrap her head around her feelings about marcy while reminiscing in the past.

summary - extras/epilogue??

i kind of like the idea that anne ends up drifting off in which ever bedroom ended up being the second one she visited. she slowly comes back to consciousness, with her surroundings feeling somewhat familiar, only to wake up in horror bc “OH SHIT I FORGOT TO GO BACK HOME” im not completely sold on the idea tho bc it feels a bit abrupt and like too much of a tone shift?? idk it doesnt feel exactly right

but anyways, im also playing around with the idea of a small epilogue scene with the calamity trio hanging out in annes room, a good amount of time after amphibia ended. dont know what theyre doing in there, but theyre just chilling and feeling a bit nostalgic i guess.

but uh yeah thats pretty much what ive got for the overall idea. it doesnt feel too out of reach, but somethjng like this would definitely be ambitious. i could mayyyybe handle writing out the vn and drawing the character sprites, but i have no idea how to code a vn or draw detailed backgrounds, both of which would be pretty important to this fangame fjsndj. so i might consider having help with this.

THIS ISNT ANY SORT OF PROMISE OR WHATEVER. id rly love to follow through and make this fangame a thing, but im not making any guarantees. i have no idea if i’ll actually follow through, but i would definitely love to.

who knows. maybe in like a couple years this might actually become a thing. but for now i have no idea

[mari-beau]

GIVE ME A REASON: PART SIX - A Rogue One Fanfiction

This is a shorter installment, and maybe pointless… maybe I’m dragging this out too long… But also, who cares, I’m doing this for fun. I just love playing with them!

Read on AO3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part Six

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: Some coarse language. References to wounds. And… Cuddling?

Words: 1,720

Story Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

Also can be found on AO3.

The Death Star had come for them.

Again.

But Jyn couldn’t bring herself to care. It did seem a little strange to have been spared the last time only to probably be destroyed this time, barely a week later. But either way, it was the end to her life she now knew to be her fate, or whatever. It just felt right. It just was. Not the Death Star specifically, but,

Jyn Erso would die in Cassian Andor’s arms.

Whether it should’ve been on Scarif. Or it was here on Yavin 4. Or the next day. Or thousands of days in the future.

And there was a sort of peace in knowing that. One that allowed her to climb into his bed, slide her arms around him, and bury her face in his shoulder. He stirred and her heart skipped a beat. It was easier when he was unconscious, to consider how she felt about him, how she’d been attracted to men before, even had something akin to a relationship with one or two, but it had never felt like this.

“Jyn…?”

“Yes, it’s me. We’re on the base on Yavin 4. Safe. In your quarters.” It was easier to preempt any confusion or alarm Cassian experienced when he woke from his heavy, partially drugged, mostly just exhausted from his body’s healing, sleep.

“How long?” he asked, then realized there were static-laden voices broadcasting over the basewide intercom. “What’s going on?”

“You’ve been asleep for 12 hours,” Jyn said, moving closer and partially on top of him to prevent him from trying to get up in a rush and falling flat on his face. Also, she was admittedly afraid on some level, afraid to be alone and facing death. When he was near her, when they were physically entwined in some way, she felt like everything would be okay. Even if she died, if it was in Cassian’s arms, then everything would be okay. Irrational, yes. But that didn’t make it any less her truth.

“The Death Star is here,” she said, once she could tell he was awake enough to understand, not muddled by pain meds. “The Alliance is scrambling their forces to engage. They’re leaving the comms open, since you know…”

“We’re all dead if they fail.”

His arms wrapped around her and engulfed her in his warm embrace. Cassian Andor, a man who, she didn’t think she was wrong to guess, hadn’t received much at all in the way of affection in his life, somehow was so good at holding a person he made the pain of the universe go away, made the entire universe fade away except for his hands on her body, gentle and undemanding but also firm and reassuring, his breath hot on her neck, sending shivers down her spine, and his body beneath hers, so strong despite his injuries.

“Are you okay?” she asked, remembering the physical state of him.

“Mmm… Yes.” His hands tightened their grip on her side and shoulder, reflexively, a gentle squeeze as he murmured into her neck. “Feels good.”

He probably meant he felt fine, but oh, yes, it did feel good. Or maybe he was still quite medicated?

“My weight isn’t putting pressure on your injuries?” Jyn asked. “Maybe I should…”

“No.” Somehow he managed to pull her further into him, her breasts flattening against his chest, her hip practically fusing to his, her breath hitching momentarily and then joining the rhythm of his own breaths...in and out… in and out… in and out...

Cassian sighed, made a frustrated, growling sound.

“I need to use the ‘fresher,” he said, loosening his grip on her.

Jyn rolled off from him, swung her legs around to sit on the side of the cot and waited to see if Cassian could manage to stand. He slid to sit on the edge of the bed next to her and took a moment. She didn’t press him, though an instinct inside of her wanted to offer assistance, wanted to take care of him, wanted to ease the pain and struggle his recovery was.

He stood, again pausing for a moment, then walked slowly across the small room to his private refresher facilities. Apparently, it was one of very few benefits to his officer’s rank, for the small quarters were nothing more than a glorified closet. But she supposed it spared him from having to sleep in a large barracks with a bunch of others, not that it would’ve deterred Jyn in the least from crawling into his bed.

Part of her felt like she shouldn’t watch his laborious movements, out of respect, but she couldn’t look away. What if he needed her?

Force, what if he didn’t need her? Not like she needed him? Aw, fuck. She needed him.

She watched the muscles in his naked back twitch, stiff from inactivity and injury. But her eyes were inevitably drawn to the perfectly uniform lines of small circular marks running down his spine. She knew there was a matching sort of trail along his ribs. Injections of some sort of bacta cocktail meant to speed the fusing of the fractures in his vertebrae and ribs, injections straight into the bone. How painful would that have been if he’d been conscious, she couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but want to wrap her smaller body around as much of Cassian as she could, run her hands gently over his scars, old and new, make sure his wounds were healing and his bruises fading, hear him sigh contentedly against her skin, hold him forever.

As he disappeared into the ‘fresher, Jyn realized she was hopeless.

Cassian Andor had taught her about hope. And had made her absolutely hopeless at the same time.

But why fret about it? What did it matter?

Jyn was used to dealing with life moment by moment, day by day. And she might not have many more moments, anyway.

The loud, static-laden voices crackling over the basewide intercom announced the launch of yet another squadron of fighters, then abruptly switched over to some ship’s communication officer announcing visual confirmation of the target. The Death Star.

Looming on the horizon like a moon, a harbinger of death, bringer of eternal night. Cold, austere, which made it somehow more terrifying, somehow worse than staring down an angry brute about to put a knife in you. It was just so inevitable, indomitable. Made her feel so small, insignificant, so alone.

“Do you mind if I turn this off?”

Jyn startled. How had she not noticed Cassian reappear in the small room? He pointed at the comm, which was broadcasting the prelims of a battle to determine all their fates.

She didn’t want to listen to it either.

“Please do,” she said, already feeling less… alone.

She watched Cassian lean over to switch the speaker off, wincing in sympathy with him as he straightened again, taking a deep breath that expanded his chest and shifted the muscles beneath his skin, mesmerizing her more than a little. His mostly naked body preoccupied far too many of her thoughts.

But what else had she been supposed to do? She’d woken up drenched in sweat that first night in his quarters, had to strip out of the heavy infirmary clothes, found Cassian tossing in his sleep, nearly feverish, removed the sweltering clothes from his body, as well. Little did she know, how enthralling she’d find his lean muscles, the shape of his body, the feel of his bare skin, his-

His hands cupped her face and Jyn looked up at Cassian Andor, his kriffing gorgeous dark eyes fixed on her. His fingers swept some stray hair from her forehead, tucked it behind her ear, returned to swipe gently over the nearly-healed scar above her eyebrow, in her hairline.

“Are you okay?” A knot formed in her throat. Cassian was a good man, despite every questionable thing he’d done and tortured himself over. Of course he would care about her wellbeing. It didn’t mean-

“Ow!”

“Your blaster wound still hurts?” His fingers feathered over her shoulder, not touching the freshly healed injury this time.

“It does when you jab your finger in it.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged his hand away, throwing him off balance so that he fell into her and she managed to catch him and ease him onto the bed, right where she wanted him.

A chuckle escaped him and he smiled, making something flutter inside of her. And then he was reaching for her, pulling her close.

His embrace was everything she’d never known she’d wanted. His hands stroked her back and he buried his face in her neck, nuzzling a sensitive spot just behind and below her ear.

She sighed, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying the fingers of her other hand in his messy, soft hair. She pressed gently as she massaged his scalp down to his nape, eliciting a hum of pleasure from him that vibrated against her bare skin and into her flesh.

If this was to be her last moment, Jyn held no regrets. It was a good moment.

“Jyn?” His voice had a lethargic but happy edge to it, thick and low and sleepy. She could sympathize.

“Yes?” She twisted her finger in a lock of hair curling about his neck.

“Please don’t let me sleep so long this time.” His whisper tickled her ear. “No more than 10 hours. Okay? Please?”

He wanted her to wake him up in 10 hours… Like there wasn’t a battle raging in space nearby… Like he didn’t believe they were quite probably going to die soon, incinerated by a weapon her own father helped design. Like he didn’t believe they were going to lose, after all. Somehow, he believed they would be there, together, ten hours from this moment.

Hope.

Such a man as Cassian… The most unexpected thing she’d discovered about him was his belief in hope. That he possessed any at all after all he had done, all he had seen. And then he’d given it to her.

And again, it warmed her, deep inside, that small seed of hope. She snuggled closer to the man, hoping for something she couldn’t even begin to conceive of. But yearned for it, with every fiber of her being.

[poptod]

hello! i'd like to make an ahkmenrah x reader request! maybe present-day reader gets teleported back in time to when ahkmenrah was alive and they eventually get to the palace and stuff happens? maybe they tell him about modern life? and maybe reader is unnaturally beautiful to the ancient egyptians because humans evolve to be more attractive as time goes on so a person from our time would be hot shit 4,000 years ago? this is long lmao. thanks!

Notes: god ive always wanted to do this kind of storyline but i was worried about like,, logic and stuff getting in the way of the storyline. anyway! i was so fucking elated to receive this request. i got a bit carried away so apologies! WC: 3.2k

+

Okay. It isn't that bad.

Would you ever see your family again? Probably not, but you weren't ruling the possibility out.

Would you ever get to have sour patch kids again? Probably not. But even during the time you lived in 2020, you had eaten more concentrated sour patch kids flavor than all of the people around you combined.

This little village on the outskirts of ancient Thebes is hardly L.A.––though that's probably a good thing––and is small enough for you to know every inhabitant. Your shop there is small to suit the town, and well known ever since your arrival in this time.

They found you beside the river, thought you to be a gift from the Gods. You were hazy, though––whatever had so forcefully pushed you back in time had made your head spin, making you sick and unbalanced. So, when they asked if you did in fact come from the Gods, you had no way of defending yourself either way. Generally you've been denying it––they think you are a god, and the only way you've convinced them you're not a god is by saying you're a gift from them. It explains the way you look, unnaturally beautiful and alien amongst the more pure genetics of earlier humans.

Your shop is pretty simple. You make portraits from paint, more realistic than anything else that exists, and it only affirms their belief in your god-like status. Fortunately word seems to not have gotten out––the village has remained small, and no one from Thebes has run into you. Every now and then you get unreasonably anxious that a noble will find you and turn you into a slave. It's a worry most people around you have, so you find comfort in the fact that you're not the only one. Still, you're not quite accustomed to such an atmosphere––the thought of nobles and Kings noticing you still sends terrified aches into your stomach.

It's about two weeks in that it gets bad. People start to pass by the village, more than you would've thought, and they're all looking to trade goods, food, and information. The people of the village talk about you––you're something interesting, you can't deny that, but they don't know just how worried you are. Whenever you see someone you don't recognize outside your home, you refuse to come out.

Five days later and there's soldiers in your home, looking over your paintings on their way back to Memphis from conquering the realm of Kush. You hold a deep contempt for them––you don't know all that much about history, but you know how Egyptian soldiers and Pharaohs reigned power over the people of Kush.

The soldiers aren't all that worrying. What really gets your heart pounding is the final man to enter your hut; a man bearing a crown and a long sword, with golden braces around his wrists and a chest plated in green scales. Your fingers dig into the wood of your counter when he notices you. The crown on his head––it's the crown of both upper and lower Egypt.

This is a Royal.

"Where did you learn this skill?" He asks you, eyes trained on one of your bigger drawings. It's just on papyrus––not for sale––and hung on the wall as a display of your talent.

"I spent a little while travelling the world," you answer. Technically, growing up in the modern world was a bit like travelling the world; you got to see the cultures and practices of many, many people. "The rest of it's practice."

"The peasants here, they... they claim you came from the Nile. Is that true?"

"Well... that is where I was found," you say carefully, but you can already tell you've fucked up. The look on his face is indescribable beyond the fact that he's pleased.

"How would you feel coming back to the capital with me?" He offers to you, setting his hands on the counter and leaning forward. "I think my father would much like to meet you."

"I – I don't think I'm really cut out for -"

"Nonsense," he dismisses with a smile, taking your hand from its' spot on the wood. "We shall teach you proper writing skills, give you a beautiful home, and the salary isn't horrid either."

You can't just say no. If you do, he's going to ask questions––he's going to get confused, and he's going to get suspicious. No one would turn down an opportunity like this; free schooling, free housing, and much more money for something you already do.

"Well... alright," you say quietly, looking to the home around you that you built with the help of the other villagers.

"Wonderful. My name is Kamun."

He's not a very nice person, you come to find. Or perhaps he's just not your tastes––the soldiers seem to like him well enough, at least the ones who aren't completely subordinate to him, but his attitude towards women and poor people is scathing to say the least. Otherwise he's very amusing, with a good sense of humor and quite generous with his food and wine as long as he gets his fill of it first.

The boat back to Memphis, where the royal family currently stays, is a long ride filled with various entertainments. It's clear these are not soldiers accustomed to rough conditions––the dancing women and flowing beer is enough to tell you that. Instead, you surmise these are faux war-heroes; people adored in their hometown for doing nothing but intimidating others in a foreign country. They try to get cushy with you, soften you up to their words and touches. It doesn't work.

He keeps you close to him. You let him do it, sort of––it's better than telling him no. Better than starting a ruckus. Then again, avoiding a ruckus is what got you here in the first place, standing before the doors of the courtroom where a false God on earth rules the Nile.

"Father, I bring you a gift from Thebes," says Kamun, pushing you forward by the small of your back. You can't bring yourself to meet the Pharoah's eye, so you fall to your knees and bow.

Everyone is staring at you. You don't look normal, and they all know it, and you know it. You could cry from the heat of their eyes on your back.

One of Kamun's soldiers steps forwards, handing the Pharaoh and his wife several of the drawings they'd taken from you. Silence passes as the two scan your work.

"How did you achieve such a mirror of the human face?" The Pharaoh asks in a slow, deep voice that sounds as he looks––old, weathered, wise.

"They came from the Nile," Kamun answers for you, and murmurs take the crowd by storm. You, on the other hand, feel your heartbeat increase in massive increments, speeding your already uneven breath. "A gift from the Gods, the locals said."

"I can't – I am not magic," you rush out, hoping your clarification clears you of any responsibility to the Pharaoh. You know he rules everything––if he says you are to stay here, you have no choice, and you don't like it here. Too many people. "I cannot give you anything, my King."

"I think you're lying," says a voice, its' tone soft and a velvet low. It catches you off guard, brings you to raise your head and meet the eyes of someone you don't know; a young man dressed in gold beside the Pharaoh's throne.

You almost lose your breakfast as your eyes bulge, your mind instantly recognizing him and connecting the dots. You were, by far, not a historian, but you knew a fair amount of Egyptian history––namely a family in the Old Kingdom who was headed by the Pharaoh Merenkahre. The remaining statues and busts of the King and his son are astonishingly accurate, and there can be no doubt in your head.

That being said, there also can't be any reaction on your face. You try your best to reign your expression in.

"I..."

Actually, you do have something to offer now. You know the names––memorized the history, committed each event to memory, and now you can pull their lifestory off from the top of your head. Wouldn't that be valuable to a King; a seer of the future, to predict the rise and fall of the economy and the coming armies. Besides, you can't just say he's wrong. That'd be treasonous to them. So you have to agree you're hiding something, come up with an excuse as to why you hid it, and it proves harder than you thought. You're quickwitted, though––it got you away from the villager's wrath, and it will promote you to noble living now.

You hide a smirk beneath a calm expression as you address the younger prince.

"They gifted me foresight," you say quietly, pretending as though it hurts you to tell the truth, "but told me to never inform others."

"You are in the presence of Ra once more," the Pharaoh reminds you.

"And others," you point out. "I would... it would be better to discuss such matters.. in private."

Detailed information about already-past events is enough to sway him to believe you. The Pharaoh is surprisingly easy to convince, and with a few, meaningless predictions of the future, he gives you housing in his own palace. Kamun looks proud of himself––puffs his chest out in front of his father and earns no compliment. Ire laces his glare as it falls upon his brother, Ahkmen, praised for his ability to see through your obvious lie.

The Pharaoh asks his younger son to guide you to your room. Apparently it's closer to his room than it is to Kamun's, and evening is approaching fast. The walk there, while short, is marked by a conversation composed mainly of Ahkmen's questions and your answers. When the two of you reach your room, he doesn't leave––actually, he follows you in and locks the door.

There's nothing more terrifying than a man with unchecked power, and there is no one watching you.

No fail safe.

You gulp.

"I know you're still not telling the truth," he says, and though it dismisses several of your worries it still begs the question; how did he notice? "Just thought I'd spare you the embarrassment in front of my father, but my generosity ends there. Now I won't hurt you, and I won't tell anyone––I'm just curious."

Oh thank fuck. He's not going to rape you.

"I'm not Egyptian," you blurt out.

"Obviously," he interrupts, but you glare him into raising his hands defensively.

"I'm from the future."

He stares at you. For a minute. You know this because you count it––he just pauses right in his stance, doesn't move, and stares at you for a whole minute like you just told him you're made of gold.

"I'm sorry, what?" He says, laughter suddenly wracking his body.

"It's how I know what's going to happen to your family," you say, hoping he'll believe you. Otherwise this handsome, seemingly-nice man is going to think you're insane for the rest of time. "I studied your family for years as a side-hobby, I don't know how to predict the future for anything but you and your father."

His laughing pauses, or lightens at least; enough for him to say, "actually?"

"Yes," you say, completely serious. This seems to gain his interest once more. "You have to help me. I know at some point people are going to ask me questions about other things and I'm not going to have an answer."

"Just do what all our priests do," he says with a chuckle.

"What do they do?"

"Lie," he says. You can't stop the grin that spreads across your face from the stupid joke, and when he sees that a shit-eating grin spreads across his own face, delighted he could make you laugh.

"Yes, well... I guess I could do that," you mumble in a laugh.

"There's no need for you to worry. Now that I know the truth, I can help you," he says, offering you something that takes nearly all the anxiety out of your brain. After two days travel with a prince, it feels like it took 50 pounds off your shoulders.

"Thank you, so much," you chuckle in relief.

"Of course. I do have questions though, and I want you to answer them."

"Anything."

These questions of his, they come at all times––almost at a constant rate when he takes you on long walks, which he does often. He passes it off to his father as an interest in your beauty, and it apparently works. This little lie also helps you enormously in avoiding the romantic advances of many of the people you come into contact with. You're still not quite sure how it works, since Egyptians supposedly had a strong sense of patriotism, but you look rare and they idolize it. Every eye that falls upon you sees something beautiful, and you can't understand it.

At least Ahkmen is normal. He doesn't talk about you being beautiful. Ever.

And it kind of makes you sad.

"Would you say people on the whole are happier in the future or in the past?" He asks you, his words surrounded by the warmth of a summer day in Egypt.

Birds chatter loudly in the trees around you, singing in the humid air that marks the mating season for many of them. The flowers that surround you are already familiar––you thought it would take longer for you to commit the shapes and colors to memory, but here you are. Dressed in gold-laced silk and turquoise necklaces.

"I think the happiness of a population is dependent entirely on the circumstances surrounding it," you say. Sometimes your answers relate more to the human condition than the progress of time on the human race; he likes these answers, too, so you tell him exactly what you think. "Six thousand years from now, there are times of great misery. One is even called the Great Depression, but five years before that were some of the most prosperous times my country had ever seen. The same cycle is evident here."

"So.. great misery and great happiness come in waves?" He asks, pace slowing as he tries to understand what you're saying. You pause along the pathway, allowing him space to think.

"It's a pattern, actually. When the economy goes up, it will always come down. Recessions happen right after economical booms. And yes," you say before he can ask, "a time of unease will follow the prosperity of the current years. But it won't be for a time yet."

"Will it happen in my lifetime?"

He's murdered about three years from now. You think you might be able to stop it, but if you do, it'll alter history quite a lot. Either way, he wouldn't live long enough to see the recession the building of the great pyramids caused.

"No," you say. "But I'd prepare for it anyway, if only to keep your citizens safe."

"Of course. You... you are a great scholar," he tells you, resuming the slow walk down the shore of the Nile.

"Oh. Uh, thank you," you mumble as a blush fills your cheeks.

"What did you do in your time?"

"I was an artist, but I spent a lot of time giving lectures on the role of autistic people in ancient Egypt. Autistic people are often timekeepers," you say, and you know he'll figure out what you mean. Autistic isn't a term here, but many timekeepers of these ancient times were autistic, and considered highly by their societies.

"You might be able to give lectures again, if you'd like," he suggests. "People would come from far and wide to hear you speak. And you've got things to say that I know many scholars will find interesting."

"Mmm," you wince, "I kind of want to stay away from altering history too much."

"Oh, yes. My apologies," he says in a softer voice.

"It's alright," you say. "I'm glad you think I would be a good choice for that kind of thing, though."

He chuckles bashfully as he turns to the ground, scuffing his sandals as he walks.

Ahkmen is sweet––much sweeter than any of his family members, and you find yourself appreciating that every time you pass by his room. You pass his door often, always stopping a second to contemplate the tall, wooden doors. He's on the pathway between your room and the library.

Most of the time he's not in his room. Actually, you can usually find him in the library––there or outside in the markets or near the stalls. Today is different; he's been missing all day, and only when you walk the path back to your room do you hear his voice, talking to himself in his bedroom.

"They're bombarded with just such compliments, though. I can't – I can't stand out!"

"Or maybe you should, because you still haven't said a single thing yet and they probably think you're completely uninterested and that's why they aren't noticing you?"

"You and your... logic," Ahkmen spits.

"Come complaining when you kiss them under my advice."

As you attempt to peek through the crack in the door you stumble, knocking your hand against the wood. You barely hesitate before knocking again––cool and collected, smooth to slip into another lie.

"Oh! Hello, um – hi," he says awkwardly, slipping out of the room when he sees you. He quickly closes the door behind him, careful to keep you from seeing the other person in his room, but you can't bring yourself to care about the stranger.

Think of an excuse, why am I here?

"Oh, that's... I like your flower," he comments softly, eyes flickering between your eyes and the flower tucked into your hair. You'd forgotten about it, but raised your hand to touch the petals as you smiled. The perfect excuse

"Thank you. I thought you might like it, so I," you take it out of your hair and grab his hand, holding his palm upwards, "wanted to show you.. um, here."

Setting the flower in his hand, you curl his fingers around its' stem and push his hands back into his chest. He stares at you for a moment, confused by your strange behavior, but accepting of your gift anyway. You know him well enough now––he'd never decline a gift from you.

"A white iris," he tells you in a lofty tone. "A symbol of the dead. Funny it looks so lively on you."

You need to get out of here before your chest combusts.

"I need to go now, but I'll see you this evening, yes?" You ask, stepping instinctively closer. He doesn't back away.

"Of course. And, um," he takes your hands, keeps you where you stand as he slips the flower back behind your ear, "keep it. I want to see it on you at dinner."

He's close to you––close enough that it gets hard to distinguish his breath from your own, when you started holding his hand. When his other came up to your face. When he leans in and kisses your forehead. It's barely there, just barely, but there's no mistaking the soft plush, the affection clear behind gentle, precise movements.

You rush away the second he lets your hands go.

[levixreader]

Levi x K-pop! Reader - It's not what it looks like - Chapter IV

Summary: Did he... Kiss you? Based on @cakeswashere KISS CAM prompt: x

Previous Chapter | Master List | Requests | Next Chapter | Chapter I

It's not what it looks like

《 Chapter IV》

It had been a long day at the office. This month had proven a little overwhelming, R.I.E, three months before, had bought a small marketing firm in order to integrate it into its ecosystem. Every month without fault there was some kind of miscommunication with them that resulted in some sort of internal problem. And who had to fix it? Him, it was always him. He would have stayed later at the office if he hadn’t made plans with you.

He looked down at the tickets in his hand; You’d gotten floor seats.

“Did you find her?”, Hange asked. He didn’t answer instead his eyes wandered around trying to locate you. There you were. Sitting, one leg hammering the floor, your face glued to your phone. He smirked, “There”, he said pointing his nose at you. “My Queen!”, Hange screamed waving ferociously. He saw your face detach from your phone, your eyes scanning for Hange’s voice. You couldn’t locate them, his smirk deepened as he scooting into the row, Hange trailing behind him.

When he reached you, he took a second to look at you. You were wearing a short thing that hiked up way too high up your thighs. His eyes lingered on your legs, they looked smooth. Without even thinking about it, he took off his leather jacket, throwing it brusquely on your lap. This visibly startled you, your eyes looking up to him riddled in confusion; your face half shaded by your cap. His expression was neutral. He looked good; his dress shirt looked a bit wrinkled, his sleeves rolled up. He probably came straight from the office. Of course, you knew that he had been dealing with a particularly tricky absorption. You smiled up at him, he didn’t correspond, simply stared. “My Queen, hello!”, greeted Hange, poking her head from behind Levi’s shoulder. He rolled his eyes and sat down.

You looked striking.

He wasn’t the only one who had noticed. It felt like the whole section around your little trio was pointing and taking pictures. Hange sat at your other side. He felt pleased, at least you wouldn’t be sitting next to a stranger. Sometimes you could be quite dense, like now, you were chatting away with Hange about some new singer, seemingly unaware of the lustful eyes around you.

He didn’t like it.

There was little he could do but glare when he felt the person too close to your seats. He sank into his chair, already feeling a bit riled up, being in the public eye was adding to his stress. He crossed his arms in front of his chest not really in the mood to engage in conversation. This didn’t seem to be a problem for you, too busy waving at nearby fans, smiling without a care in the world as people pointed and treated you like some kind of display. They could at least have the decency to leave you alone on your time off. Hange was no help, she was basking in the attention, poking you so that you would look across the court at gaping fans desperately trying to catch your eye. He was getting a little frustrated. Feeling a bit antsy, he took out his phone reading unnecessary emails. That would keep him distracted. Why did he come? This was far from a good idea.

He briefly looked at your lap, his jacket covering your lap. He couldn’t even begin to think the mess that would spur from that little act. Sure, the media now knew you were strictly just friends and that you actually went out together in a platonic way. But they hadn’t seen you in public, there were no pictures. Everything was just retellings of people who had seen you together like at the bar, the other day. He groaned quickly typing an email to PR.

Stop any stupid pictures from leaking.

It sounded threatening. “Serves them right”, he thought sending the short message. They had enough to prepare for what the media would do seeing you and him in public. He wasn’t completely delusional, he understood that not everything could be blocked but, this much they could and would do. After the hell that had been your little crowd diving, they needed to remind him why he paid them the exorbitant amounts of money they billed him monthly.

Contrary to what the media was spitting out, you and he weren’t all that different. There was a reason you were… friends. As had become painfully obvious, you both had a love for the same kind of food and wine, not to mention concertos. That first dinner, he had mentioned his favourite composer in passing, but you latched on to that for the rest of dinner. He hadn’t been able to talk to someone so thoroughly in a very long time. Perhaps that’s what made him venture into inviting you to a concerto. And boy was he glad he had. That had been the most pleasant of your surprises; that you shared so much in common with him. You even recommended a few modern composers that he had dismissed years before. And what’s worse? You had been right.

The one difference? He could never get used to how public you were. Even If the media didn’t publish any pictures of the two of you together, they always knew where and with who you were. Storied came a mile a minute with so many listed sources that he couldn’t possibly track them all down and shut them up. That had never happened to him. He was well known at best, but people barely knew who he was because he rarely showed his face. Recently, however, that had changed. He couldn’t go to his usual tea shop anymore without at least someone taking a picture of him. He knew why it was happening, but, if that was the price to have you close, he would gladly pay it.

He sighed, reclining further into his seat. He didn’t even like basketball, except, you had looked so proud holding the tickets. Your voice was so hopeful that he would come. He had stayed the afternoon watching videos to at least understand the game somewhat.

“Sorry”, you whispered at him. His eyes lazily looked at you, his face still facing forward. “For what?”, he asked a little taken aback. “I know you’re not exactly a fan”, you said apologetically. “Hmm”, he answered his eyes returning to watch the court. “I didn’t tell you this”, you said still whispering. The only indication that he was listening was his raised eyebrow, “but I also got us tickets for Yann Tiersen”, she said her voice dripping with excitement, “but I only managed to get two”, you explained further. Ahh, this is why.

Hange liked basketball. You didn’t want her to feel left out. “Then why am I here?”, he asked his voice deep and velvety. It made you feel as if butterflies had hatched in your stomach. “Well,” you said licking your lips, “I didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t understand what is going on”. He smiled, startling again the butterflies. He chuckled, covering his mouth with one of his hands. “Speak for yourself”, he answered playfully. “PASS THE BALL!”, Hange screamed, “PASS.IT”, she yelled. Both of you turned to watch her, frown in place, eyes glued at the court. You chuckled, his eyes now on you, he smiled. Perhaps basketball wasn’t that boring of a sport.

* * *

It had been a long fifteen minutes; too many noises, people hailing, complaining, everything had to be a scream. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the game, he kept getting distracted by your knees occasionally knocking into his. Every time without fault he would jolt to attention. You seemed to not notice at all; your attention fully on the game. This somewhat irritated him.

You were always like this, he knew you didn’t particularly enjoy basketball, in fact, he would bet his right leg that you didn’t even know any players besides LeBron James; but, like anything you did, you always got weirdly excited just immersed yourself in it despite your lack of interest. He had already seen you make your small hands into tiny fists and shaking them whenever the yellow team made a point. It was cute.

He sighed looking down at his phone, they were finally taking a break from the game and he could check on the emails that had already accumulated in the short period of time since he last checked. His thumb scrolled reading the latest proposal for budget from the marketing department; they were asking for, yet again, another increase in budget. He frowned, the overwhelming chatter around him dying down.

Something felt off.

He could feel the whole court staring his way. He turned to check on you. You were looking down at your lap fiddling with his jacket. You were nervous, his eyes narrowed. He could make out a pink tint colouring your cheeks. “Also embarrassed”, he noted. His eyes shifted to Hange, she was staring wide eyes mouth opened. His eyebrow rose in confusion. The fuck was going on.

“Well?!” Came a voice from behind him, “kiss her!”, the voice screamed.

He could have choked.

His eyes were fully alert, he twisted his body to turn to see who the fuck was talking. “The fuck?”, he asked annoyed. “Yeah! KISS HER!”, it was a woman this time. He quickly turned to see her. “KISS HER!”, yet another. “Kiss her!”, “kiss her!”, the crowd began to chant.

“It’s the kiss cam!”, mouthed Hange. He immediately relaxed. He looked up at the massive screens, sure enough. There was a heart-shaped filter focused on you and him, “kiss cam” scribbled at the bottom. Raising both hands and crossing them in an “x” shape at whoever was filming him. A chorus of boos echoed through the court. He sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest and sinking into the chair again.

He looked up at the screens, a failed animation playing. He sighed, the camera turning to another couple. “Calm down, it left”, he whispered. You nodded, unable to speak; your cheeks still flushed. His eyes scanned over your figure, they glimmered with curiosity. Smirking, he returned his gaze back to his phone, “Good”, he thought.

* * *

Yet another break came.

Finally, half time.

He just needed to get through another two breaks.

As he had decided, he took out his phone yet again, reading the budgeting proposal; they were finally making some sense. It looked coherent and well structured, they hadn’t asked an exorbitant amount either.

“Levi”, he heard Hange call out. Unwillingly, he twisted to look at the woman. “Look!”, she mouthed pointing at the goliath of a screen. He groaned, there he was, frown displayed on TV with you next to him, “KISS CAM”, written in big bold purple letters. He could see you blushing even from the low-quality camera pointed at the both of you.

“Just do it”, Hange said making you flinch. His eyes narrowed at your response. “Common! Kiss her man!”, someone screamed. “Yeah, kiss the girl!!!”, “Kiss her!”, “Don’t be a pussy! Kiss!”.

The previous chant echoing throughout the court, “Kiss her! Kiss her!”.

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, bones included, being rejected on national TV was pretty embarrassing. Did he not want to kiss you? Had this tension between the both of you simply been in your head? You wanted him to kiss you. You wanted him to want to kiss you.

“Fuck it”, you heard Levi whisper. Callous hands cupped your cheeks, softly guiding your head to face him. Steal grey eyes greeted you, his nose next to yours.

And then…

You felt it.

His lips came soft, barely gracing yours. The front of his bangs tickling lightly your cheeks. His eyes were half-lidded, avoiding your shocked irises. You couldn’t move. It had been so fleeting you that you could have missed it. You blinked, feeling the warmth leave your lips.

His face retreated from yours, his body returning casually to his seat.

You simply stared, too surprised to react.

Your stomach somersaulted, a faint ringing sound covering your ears; loud enough that you barely registered the crowed erupting in cheer and whistles.

His lips had been soft.

Your hand reached up to your lips, your fingertips touching gently your lower lip.

He kissed you.

Heat. Your cheeks coloured gently turning peach.

You didn’t say a word.

[spencers-renaissance]

Honeysuckle

Summary: The BAU decide to head out for a picnic one summer afternoon, but they’re soon rudely interrupted by a bee sting and anaphylactic shock. Seeing Spencer carted off in an ambulance is not exactly how they expected the day to go.

Tags: whump, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, hurt spencer, friendship, medical conditions, severe allergic reactions

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid 

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

Spencer had initially been wary of Penelope’s invitation to picnic in Meridian Hill Park one beautiful summer afternoon — he burned way too easily and didn’t like exposing himself to insects more than absolutely necessary — but as soon as she’d mentioned Derek was going, he’d given in. He wasn’t about to turn down an afternoon spent in the sun with his best friends and boyfriend. It was a rare day off for the team: one not even spent hanging by their phone expecting to be called in any minute, so they were all insistent on making the most of it. 

He’s the last one to arrive, spotting the others sat in the shade of an oak tree, already laughing as they get stuck into their first drinks of the afternoon. Despite his initial hesitations, as soon as he feels the sun on his face and sees his friends he’s immediately glad he turned up and he hurries over to join the rest of the team, his own contributions to the picnic in hand. 

“Pretty boy!” Derek shouts, grinning widely as he jumps up from his lazy position on the blanket to wrap Spencer in a hug, before pulling back slightly to kiss him. He can already tell he’s a little tipsy, and although Spencer doesn’t drink he has nothing against everyone else letting their hair down and having fun; God knows they deserve it. 

His relationship with Derek is only a few months old, and he still relishes every moment he gets to spend wrapped up in his arms.

“Hey guys.” His words are muffled slightly by Derek’s shoulder as his boyfriend is reluctant to let him go, but as soon as he’s released, he turns to match everyone’s wide grins. 

“Did you bring the strawberries?” Emily asks, levelling him with a faux-stern look that she can’t maintain for long, melting back into her relaxed smile soon enough.

“Of course.” He takes a seat on the picnic blanket only to be immediately wrapped into a side hug by Penelope. He hugs back before beginning to unpack his bag.

“What about the icing sugar?” she asks, and her stern glare isn’t fake at all: Spencer knows how seriously Penelope takes a) organisation, and b) sweet treats.

“Who do you take me for?” he laughs, retrieving the fruit and sugar from his bag and taking a swig of the cool lemonade he’d packed in his thermos. 

Sometimes he wishes he could go back in time and show lonely, teenage Spencer pictures of days like these. One day, he’ll be twenty six, working at his dream job, and spending his days off in the warmth of the East Coast sun one Sunday afternoon surrounded by his best friends, kissed by his boyfriend at every opportunity. They’ve never asked him to be anything other than exactly who he is, inviting them into their group and doting on him relentlessly, loving him just as much as he loves them. 

It’s a luxury you only appreciate when you’ve known the loneliness of summer: when the hum of the AC is the only sound in your stuffy, humid dorm room, and you’re researching the effects of methane on winter weather patterns as you long for cold weather again, because then at least then you don’t have to listen to the excited shouts of friends outside anymore, then it’s acceptable to isolate yourself inside with only yourself and books for company.

He shakes himself out of his miserable recollections and reminds himself to be in the present. Emily has her head in Penelope’s lap as they discuss which incarnation of Doctor Who is the best while JJ and Derek discuss the new jogging park opening up across the border in Virginia. He knows which conversation is more suited to his interests and immediately goes up to bat for the Seventh Doctor, which manages to engage him in a spirited debate with both women. 

Soon, though, they find themselves all discussing their workplace embarrassments and recalling the funniest moments from over the last few years, and Spencer loses himself in the heat of the afternoon and the warmth of his friendships. He’s gorged himself on all the strawberries and sandwiches he could stomach, and as the afternoon stretches longer and evening approaches he lies down on the blanket and rests his head in Derek’s lap, mirroring Penelope and Emily. His eyes flutter closed as his full belly and heat of the sun tire him out, and Derek’s fingers thread themselves through Spencer’s long hair, a light and welcome touch. 

The haze of his friends still chatting around him as he dozes comfortably is interrupted, however, when he feels a sharp pinch on his wrist and seconds later, he’s fighting for breath. He launches upright, wheezing as he claws at his chest, trying desperately to fill his lungs with enough air. 

“Spencer? Oh my God, Spencer, what’s wrong?” Penelope cries, immediately by his side as she looks him over frantically, not knowing what’s happening. 

“Derek, call an ambulance,” JJ directs, taking charge as she rushes to Spencer’s side as well. “He’s in anaphylactic shock. Spencer, listen to me, do you have your epi-pen with you?”

Her words manage to get through the panicked haze and light-headedness as he can’t get enough oxygen. He can feel his face swelling and his heart racing, but he’s still coherent enough to point to his bag. 

“He didn’t eat anything, though,” Emily says, panicked and confused as she watches her friend have a medical crisis while she’s powerless to help. 

“He’s allergic to bees,” JJ says, keeping calm as she prepares the epi-pen and administers it to Spencer’s thigh. “One must have stung him for some reason.”

“There!” Penelope points to the bee sting on Spencer’s wrist and JJ lunges for her bag, rummaging until she finds her credit card which she uses to carefully slide under the stinger and remove it, preventing any more venom from flowing into Spencer’s system.

It’s clear after a few minutes that the epi-pen hasn’t worked: Spencer still feels like he can’t catch his breath and the world is fading slowly as his heart beats out of control and his organs can’t get enough oxygen. 

He feels himself be moved gently by various hands as JJ directs the others until he’s leaning up as comfortably as possible against Derek’s chest as Penelope elevates his legs to keep blood flowing to his vital organs. 

“It’s okay, Spencer,” JJ says loudly, right in front of his face. It’s blurry and out of focus and he can feel himself losing consciousness fast. “The ambulance is on its way.” 

It’s the last thing he hears before he collapses completely as he passes out. 

⭐️

It’s dark outside when Spencer finally wakes up. His bed is warm and comfortable and he lets himself listen to the somewhat comfortable steady beeps of the heart monitor and movement of staff and patients around the ward before finally opening his eyes to scan his room. 

Derek’s sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair right next to his bed, sketching what Spencer can only guess are plans for the property he’s just taken on, an empty jello cup balancing on the armrest of his chair. 

“Sandwiches and strawberries not fill you up?” he asks, voice croaky as he cracks an eye open. He can’t help but smile, too. He has the best boyfriend and the best friends anyone could ever hope for.

Derek’s head snaps up as he hears Spencer’s voice, setting his notebook and jello aside to grab for Spencer’s hand. “You are something else,” he chuckles. “Your first thought when coming round from a medical disaster is an observation of my eating patterns.” He shakes his head fondly. “ But you know I can’t pass up a tub of jello.”

“That’s true. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you say no when it’s offered.”

“You’re one to talk, pretty boy.” 

They lapse into short silence, accompanied only by the quiet beeps of the machines. “Sorry I scared you,” he whispers eventually, feeling guilt wrap itself around his stomach. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not your fault.” Derek looks sincere as he holds Spencer’s hand tighter, careful of the IV in his wrist. “The doctors… they said it was a severe attack, which is probably why the first epi-pen didn’t work. They’re monitoring you overnight to make sure there was no damage to your kidneys, I think. I’ll go find a doctor to tell them you’re awake.”

He moves to get out of his seat, but Spencer pulls him back down, as well as he can when he’s still feeling weak. “No, just… don’t leave,” he asks, his voice coming out a little too pleading for his liking. “Stay.”

The idea of being alone right now twists his stomach; the idea of being without Derek so desperately scary. 

“Okay, okay, baby,” Derek relents, sitting back down and running a soothing hand through his tangled hair, Spencer’s eyes fluttering closed at the contact. “I won’t go anywhere if you don’t want me to.” Instead, he presses the button for the nurse. 

“Where are the others?” Spencer dares to ask after a few seconds of quiet. 

“The nurses weren’t too happy with four people in here,” Derek chuckles. “I’ve been updating them by text; I’ll tell them you’re awake in a minute. JJ saved your life, you know. None of us had any clue what was happening but she was the only one who kept calm and the only one who got us through those awful minutes waiting for the ambulance to show up.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I told her I was allergic to bee stings years ago. It was just an off-hand comment, it never feels like that big a deal… this is only the third time this has ever happened. I guess I don’t feel the need to bring it up.”

“Well that off-hand comment saved your life, pretty boy.” Derek squeezes his eyes closed for a second, and when he opens them the emotion written on his face is heart-wrenching. “God, I can’t believe I could’ve lost you. There were a good few minutes there when I didn’t think you were gonna make it and after… Tobias… I was just so scared.”

Spencer’s stomach clenches at that, imagining the roles reversed is terrifying just as a hypothetical. He can’t even begin to imagine how Derek felt. He reaches a hand out to touch Derek’s face gently, squeezing his hand with the other. “But you didn’t lose me,” he murmurs. “I’m here, I’m  okay.” 

“Yeah.” His voice is barely a whisper as his eyes close again. “Is it bad that I kind of want bees to go extinct now?” he asks with a wet chuckle a few moments later.

“Derek!” Spencer laughs weakly, acting scandalised. “Bees are fundamental to the global ecosystem. Civilisation would effectively collapse if bees went extinct, it’s definitely not worth eradicating bees for the sake of me avoiding the rarity of anaphylactic shock, not according to the laws of proportionality. It’s actually frightening how fast the bee population is depleting though… did you know that there are only about 2.5 million honey-producing hives left in the US? That’s down from 4.5 million in 1980 and the loss has largely been attributed to colony collapse disorder—”

“Ah, Doctor Reid, you’re awake.” A smiling nurse bustles through the door and comes to check his vitals, fiddling with one of his IVs before taking a step back. “How’s your breathing? Is the nasal cannula okay or would you prefer a full mask?”

“The cannula’s good,” he says, smiling politely. Really, he just wants to get back to telling Derek all the bee facts he can recall. He has some really good ones itching to be let out. “I’m breathing fine, just feel a little weak still.”

“Good. Your vitals all look stable, so a doctor will be round in the morning to talk you through your treatment and medication. Is that okay?” 

“That’s fine, thank you,” Spencer nods, and she gives them one last smile before leaving the room and sliding the door shut quietly behind her.

“I should bring her back in,” Derek chuckles as the nurse leaves the room. “She missed out on your bee lecture. Fascinating stuff.”

“Shut up,” Spencer huffs, sinking back against the pillows. “You don’t deserve to hear my bee facts.”

“No,” Derek protests, grinning widely. “I’m joking, baby, carry on. You were telling me about colony collapse disorder.”

Spencer knows that, of course — he does have an eidetic memory after all — but it makes him smile that Derek remembers exactly where he was in his spiel. Maybe Penelope’s onto something when she says that Derek is “whipped” for him. (It had taken at least fifteen minutes for Spencer to fully understand what she meant by that, mostly because he kept asking about the etymology, history, and statistical usage of the word and she kept rolling her eyes, which he would then insist was not an answer.)

“Colony collapse disorder is depressing,” Spencer sighs, feeling quite tired all of a sudden. “I don’t feel like explaining it.”

“It doesn’t sound great.” Derek goes back to threading his fingers through Spencer’s hair. “Why don’t you tell me your favourite three bee facts, and then you can go back to sleep”

Spencer hums, giving it a bit of thought before replying. “Scientists trained bees to score goals in bee soccer in return for a sugary treat, which is especially interesting because they have brains the size of a poppy seed. They communicate with one another by wiggling their butts. It’s like their own language, they tell their nestmates where to go to get the best food. Bees also live in loads of different places, not just in the countryside. My favourite place they live is in marshes and wetlands, because I love insects that live in watery areas.”

“I’d pay to watch bees play soccer,” Derek laughs quietly. “You’re so smart, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

Spencer sighs happily. “Love you,” he murmurs, eyes closing against the exhaustion. 

“I love you more.”

Spencer isn’t awake long enough to argue with him.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii @hotchgans @suburban--gothic @takeyourleap-of-faith 

[morganaspendragonss]

Hey! I absolutely love your "the lovers that went wrong" fic - ive been back to reread it several times now because i think its such a good idea and I love the relationship with TK and his mum - if only the show could give us something as good as that! - I was wondering- only if you were interested, could you write something from Carlos' pov with his parents? maybe they can see that TK is more than a friend and they talk to Carlos about him and TK and why he's feeling insecure? if not np :)

thank you so much anon, that’s so sweet of you!! i love this prompt, too - god knows the show probably won’t show us carlos’s pov. it was my pleasure to write it.

a note on the spanish - technically, i do speak spanish but it’s still very much a word in progress, so if any spanish-speakers want to correct me then please do

ao3 | 1.6k | 2.04 spoilers

Carlos can feel TK's eyes burning holes into the side of his head, but he doesn’t look around. He doesn’t want to see the confusion and hurt he knows TK must be feeling - and if that makes him a coward, then so be it. His parents’ gazes are flicking between them, so Carlos distracts his mom by pulling her into a hug, grateful for the brief opportunity to hide his face. 

Behind them, his dad is shaking TK’s hand, and Carlos’s entire brain is screaming wrongwrongwrong. This isn’t supposed to be happening. Not like this. Not yet.

He’s not ready.

His mom pulls away and Carlos forces a smile back on his face. They stand in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, Carlos feeling like he’s being scrutinised.

Then, TK speaks. “It was great to meet you, Mr Reyes, Mrs Reyes,” he says, “but I should go. I told my dad I’d meet him and I’ll be late if I don’t leave.”

The lie rolls off his tongue, smoother than Carlos’s had, and Carlos dares a glance over. What he sees is so much worse than he imagined; to any other person, TK looks the picture of innocence, smiling kindly, eyes wide and bright. 

But Carlos knows him. He can see the tense set of TK’s shoulders, the way he’s subtly put more distance between them, the hurt hidden deep in his eyes. He feels sick with guilt, but there’s nothing he can do to fix it. Not here.

“I’ll drive you,” he offers, but TK firmly waves him off.

“No,” he says, jaw clenching minutely. “My dad’s place isn’t too far; I can walk.”

“But -”

“It’s fine.” 

Their eyes meet, and Carlos is suddenly hit with the force of what he’s done. Everything he’s been so scared of - TK deciding they’re not working, running away, Carlos getting his heart broken - all of that might happen now after all. 

And it’ll all be Carlos’s fault.

TK’s hand lands on his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Carlos,” he mutters, and then he’s gone, striding back the way they came and taking half of Carlos’s heart with him.

“Is everything okay, mijo?” his mom asks, as Carlos keeps staring after TK even though he can’t see him anymore. 

Carlos doesn’t have an answer to that - the casual way they parted cut deeper than he’d ever thought possible, and he doesn’t know if it was just TK keeping up the act or his way of hurting Carlos the way he’d been hurt. Carlos wants to believe it’s the first one, but his less charitable side can’t help but wonder.

He can’t tell any of this to his mom, though, so he braces himself and turns back around, smiling. “Yeah, of course,” he says, surprised by how steady his voice is. “What are you guys doing here? I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Clearly,” his dad remarks, faintly amused, but before Carlos can figure that out, his mom is taking his arm and dragging him along with her.

“I was planning on making my chiles rellenos tonight, but your father forgot the chiles when he went shopping the other day.” She sends a reproachful look behind her, but the effect is offset by her fond smile. “You know they do the best ones here, so out we came. And here you are.”

“Here I am,” Carlos agrees through gritted teeth. He tries to extricate himself from her grip. “Look, mami, I don’t want to keep you. I’ll go, and you can -”

She stops suddenly, planting her hands on her hips. “I don’t see my only son for weeks, and the second we run into him, he wants to escape?” she demands. “No. You’re coming home with us, and you can help me with the food.”

“It’s hardly been weeks, mami,” he says weakly, knowing he’s already lost this argument. When Andrea Reyes makes up her mind, nothing can sway her.

“Psshh, details.” She waves her hand dismissively and takes his arm again, leaving Carlos no choice but to follow her to their car. He directs a wordless plea for help back at his dad, but he just holds his hands up, shaking his head. 

“Your mother’s right, you know,” he says. “We barely see you these days. Give us the afternoon, at least.”

Which is how Carlos ends up in his mother’s kitchen, silently helping her prepare chiles rellenos and trying not to wallow in his grief over TK.

He fails miserably - miserable being the operative word.

His mom is being suspiciously silent, and if Carlos had any energy left, he would call her out on it. He knows they’re going to end up having a discussion at some point, but he’s in no mood to provoke it. Easier just to let her initiate it herself.

“That boy at the market,” she starts eventually, far too casually for Carlos’s liking. “What was his name again?”

“TK.”

She hums. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”

He sighs heavily. “We’re friends, mami,” he reminds her wearily, the lie coming easier this time, which is something he really doesn’t want to read in to.

“I never suggested otherwise,” she says. “He seemed nice.”

“He is.”

She sighs, clearly fed up with his reticence, and sets her knife down. “¿Qué pasa, mijo?” she asks, turning to face him.

“Nada, mami, no pasa nada,” he insists, though he’s not entirely sure why he’s still bothering to lie.

“Don’t pull that shit with me, Carlos Reyes,” she says sharply, startling him. “Soy tu madre; te conozco. Now, I’ll ask again - what’s going on?”

He meets her gaze, seeing only warmth and concern there, and it nearly breaks him. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Try me.”

Carlos bites his lip, deciding how best to break the news to her. He’s still not ready, not really, but he’s made his bed. Time to lie in it.

“I’ve met someone,” he hedges, trusting her to fill in the blank of TK’s name. “I’ve known him for a while, but we’ve only been seeing each other for the last four months.”

There’s a brief silence, then, “Why did you not tell us?” she asks, her tone gentle, not at all accusatory. “Is it not serious?”

He hesitates, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I don’t know,” he admits, half-whispering. “I don’t… He… I…”

Carlos shakes his head, giving up on speech. He doesn’t protest when his mom reaches up to draw him into an embrace, resting his head on her shoulder. 

“I’m scared, mami,” he chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the tears fall. His mom holds him tight, rubbing comforting circles on his back as he shakes in her arms. 

They stay like that for a while, until she moves her hands to his shoulders and eases him away from her. “Why are you scared?” she asks. Her eyes narrow. “He’s not hurting you, is he?”

Carlos recoils at the thought. “No,” he says, the words bursting out of him in a half-shout. “He would never.”

“Then, what is it?”

He hesitates again, the thought of telling her everything suddenly very daunting. She clearly notices, as she reaches around him to push the half-prepared food away. Carlos’s eyes widen at that; his mom never stops cooking once she’s started. She smiles ruefully, then leads him over to the couch, pulling both of them down onto it. 

“Tell me.”

And Carlos does. He doesn’t divulge all of their long, complicated history, but he tells her enough for her to understand. He talks about TK’s reluctance to start anything, his own determination to try anyway. He talks about those days after TK got shot, and the solar storm, and that night under the stars when they finally agreed to give them a shot.

He talks about his fears that it’s all just a fantasy, that any day now the rose-tinted glasses are going to come off and TK is going to realise that he’s made a mistake, and Carlos will be left behind again. And he talks about his guilt for even thinking it, the way he wants so badly to believe that this is it.

Because, for him at least, Carlos is fairly sure that it is. He just wishes (hopes) the same is true for TK.

When he’s done talking, he glances hesitantly over at his mom. She’s watching him with a small smile on her face, her hand gently squeezing his knee.

“Oh, Carlos,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?”

He grimaces and nods. “I’ve ruined it all,” he says. “I hurt him, and now he’s never going to trust me again.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” she admonishes. He frowns up at her, only to meet a spectacular frown of her own. “You’re going to go to him, right now, and explain everything like you’ve just done for me. He’ll listen, and if he doesn’t then clearly he’s not good enough for you.”

“He’s good enough, mami,” he says, cracking a small smile. “I don’t know where he is, though; he was lying when he said he had to meet his dad.”

“Then you’re going to go home and wait,” she says, matter-of-fact. “If half of what you’ve said is true, he’s going to want to talk just as much as you do.”

Carlos doubts that, but he supposes it’s as good a plan as any. He could call TK, but he doesn’t want to rush him. Better to let him decide when he wants to talk to Carlos - Carlos had been the one to hurt him, after all.

He leans into his mom’s side, smiling at her. “Thank you, mami.”

She kisses his temple. “Te quiero, my son. Now, go. If this boy is as good as you say, I’ll never forgive you for letting him go, let alone him.”

Carlos laughs, then gets to his feet and leaves his parents’ house, filled with a sudden determination to fix this.

He doesn’t think he could live with himself if he didn’t at least try.