#and i have noticed a rise in presents I've actually wanted since i started doing that

[bunn-iiii]

I am a firm believer in just asking people what they want for a special occasion and also making wishlists for people so they know what are some things you may want for special occasions

[elspethdekarios]

Faerûnian Writing Challenge: Day 10

Feb 10. First time after a love confession

NSFW 🔞 !!!

Gale x Female OC

This is basically just what I imagine happens in the bed romance scene. I wanted to do something different by writing in present tense and also from Gale's POV. Hope you enjoy!!

Elspeth offers her hand, and he takes it in his own as he climbs over her. A shiver runs through him at the sensation of her hands on his back. Gods, it's been so long since he's touched someone like this. A mortal, even longer. He only just began daring to touch himself again. After a year abstaining from excitement of any kind in fear of the orb, having that feeling be sated felt... odd. Like the ball could drop again at any moment. But as the days went on and he finally felt like he was not a ticking time bomb ready to level a city at the drop of a hat, he began to allow his mind to wander, his fantasies to take hold of him, his thoughts before drifting off to sleep to be consumed by her. Elspeth. Even her name on his tongue stirs electricity inside of him. He started slow, testing the waters with just a few gentle strokes, keeping as quiet as possible in his tent, but even the feeling of his own hand made him let out an intense breath of relief, of pleasure. After a few days of this, he concluded that the orb was indeed still stable, and he truly let his desires take hold of him. Every day, he watched her travel, fight, plan, strategize. Every day, she spoke to him with genuine interest and curiosity. He was beginning to accept that maybe she actually did enjoy his company. After all, she could take her pick of companions to socialize with. And she did make an effort with everyone, that was true. But he'd taken notice of the way she'd ask him for spell concentration advice, inquire about his studies back home--hells, she would even walk all the way across camp to ask him to open a jar for her when Karlach or Wyll were clearly closer to the food chest and obviously stronger than him.

So he began to let himself think of her, imagine her hand was the one exploring under his covers, wondering what her lips would feel like on his. What kind of kisser was she? Soft and tender? Passionate and eager? He didn't much care, really. He just wanted her. Soon his thoughts would drift to her body. The first night that he let himself imagine her unclothed, he came within seconds. And he has thought about it every night since, even daring to imagine what it would feel like to be inside her. Wondering what positions are her favorite and which ones she's never tried. He feels confident that he can last a perfectly average amount of time now, here with her. And considering this may be his last night alive, he knew he had to take a chance.

She caresses his face, pulling him in for a kiss, deliberate and tender before increasing in passion. A sense of desperation is palpable in them both. She tugs at the hem of his tunic, and he rises to his knees to let her take it off. Her soft hands run down his chest and abdomen as she admires his body. It's the first time he's been touched since Mystra. The first time he's been touched by mortal hands in years. The warmth of her palms feels like home. He has to take a moment to feel it all, to place his hands on hers, now resting on his thighs, to let the sensation of her flesh, her presence fully sink in.

"Gale," she says softly, "are you alright?"

He nods.

"More than alright." He leans back over her, pressing kisses to her neck. "Just taking you in."

He slides his hands under her top, sighing with relief and excitement when he realizes she's not wearing a bra. He pulls the shirt over her head to reveal modestly sized but plump, perky breasts, prickling from the cool night air.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he says as he runs his hands over them, ducking his head and savoring the soft skin on his face. She reaches for his pants and he reaches for hers, becoming a tangle of limbs increasingly bare.

"I've wanted this for so long," Elspeth breathes, discarding the last article of clothing to the side of the bed. He hovers above her, kissing her lips between words.

"So have I," he says. "Since the day you pulled me out of that rock, I've dreamed of knowing you this intimately."

He lifts up to kneel between her legs, spreading them slowly apart, growing harder than he thought possible at the pink wetness he finds there. He places his hands on her hips and trails kisses down, stopping before he gets there. Her panting grows heavy with anticipation.

They meet eyes across her body as his hands move closer and closer.

"May I?"

She nods fervently, running her hand through his hair. He kisses her wrist before dropping his head and putting his tongue to good use. She writhes in pleasure as he tastes her, and hells, she tastes good. He's sure this must be the nectar of the gods, Elspeth Ambrosia.

The sensation of her nails gently trailing across his scalp makes him moan into her, which makes her grip his hair and push her hips up to his face. She writhes in pleasure, squealing softly between quickened breaths, before coaxing his face up with a hand on his chin. He lifts his head, meeting her eyes as she looks down her body. He can feel his heart swell at the pure love and longing in her expression, and he wants nothing but to take her, to love her, to make her feel pleasures unimaginable. Elspeth pulls him up, kissing his wet face with fervor, her tongue running over his lips, asking for permission to push into his mouth and tangle with his own. In a smooth motion, without breaking their kiss, she brings her legs up towards her chest and angles her hips. The tip of him feels her warmth, just barely touching him, and effortlessly he pushes himself into her, groaning as her heat envelops him. He pulls away from her kiss, wanting to see her face as she moans, wanting to know she's enjoying herself as much as he is. He gets his answer when she gives him a sensual smile and whispers "I love you."

He keeps his thrusts slow, pushing a little deeper into her each time and savoring every noise that comes from her lips, unable to keep himself from kissing them for more than a few moments. Graceful fingers caress his face, his shoulders, his back. When they run across his scalp again, he can feel himself getting too close to completely unraveling.

"You are phenomenal," he mutters into her neck as he pulls himself out of her. "I want this to last forever."

Twisting to the side, El guides him onto his back and swings a leg over his waist, reciprocating the kisses he trailed along her neck.

"Then let's take our time."

Gale wraps his arms around her body, hugging her tight to his chest as if she might float away. Her skin is soft and warm against his own. She rests her head on his shoulder and runs her fingers through his hair as she presses lingering kisses to his cheek. The orb on his chest glows a pulsating violet.

"Does it hurt when it does that?" she asks, touching the scarred skin with a gentle fingertip.

"Sometimes," he answers. "But not right now."

Her lips move down his neck to the center of his chest. She kisses its center with a tenderness that he doesn't know he's ever felt from another being. It surprises him. He rests a hand on the back of her head and presses a kiss to her starlight blonde hair.

Gods, he's in love with this woman. A love deeper than he's ever known.

Their kissing grows heavier as passion overtakes them again. Giving him a full view of her body, Elspeth hovers over him before she lowers herself to take all of him inside, exhaling as she does. A rhythm finds their hips as she rides him, his thumb rubbing circles over that most sensitive spot until she's crying out with pleasure, all restraint abandoned.

Hands on her waist, Gale flips her to her back, pushing one of her legs up to her chest as he thrusts into her again and again, still rubbing circles between her thighs, finally letting his body take over as his mind goes quiet. One of her hands grips the forearm he's using to hold himself up, the other gripping the sheets as her cries grow louder and louder. He feels her begin to tighten and pulsate around him, and as she lets out the most intense sound she's made so far, pleasure washes over him. A consuming, overwhelming, heavenly climax that gives way to relief. Peace. Complete and utter satisfaction.

Both breathing heavily, Gale collapses next to Elspeth as they stare up at the canopy above them. She pulls back the sheets and slides underneath them, lifting the fabric for Gale to do the same. He snuggles close to her, takes her into his arms, and kisses her forehead. To hold her close is a bliss he's never known with another lover, mortal or otherwise. It's the first time he's felt like himself in a year. It's the first time he's felt wholly, fully content in his life.

To sleep peacefully in her embrace is enough to make him believe that everything will be okay.

[littlewitchygreen]

The Commercial Witch

This post is a little unlike my others, but it is one that I find interesting and have been wanting to make for a while, if simply to talk about it as more of a think piece. Since I began actively practicing witchcraft, I've been seeing a rise in companies and brands promoting and selling things related to witchcraft, as well as a host of social media influencers making witchy aesthetic posts with elaborate altars and setups. While there is nothing inherently wrong with either of those, it has led to a side effect that I've seen mentioned offhandedly but not really talked about much: the commercialization of witchcraft.

Influence

While I love the aesthetic posts as much as the next witch (both because they are pretty and organized well, and because it sometimes sparks ideas of my own), I don't so much love the implications such posts give about the nature of witchcraft in the modern day.

I've seen many new witches ask what crystals they have to buy, and what plants they should start with, and how to make a grimoire look picture perfect, and where to buy the best tools, and is a drawer full of divination tools enough or do they need more? All perfectly valid and genuine questions for those still learning, that deserve full and honest answers. But I've also seen just as many posts from people wanting to learn witchcraft that lament that they could never afford it, and that is where the problem I feel lies.

Posts from witchcraft influencers and those who simply like the aesthetic and are not actual witches imply through what they show that it is the things that make the witch rather than the person themself - and that the only way to harness magical ability is through items rather than practice and skill. So, not knowing any better, new witches pick up on that and believe the same.

To be clear: material goods are not a problem. If dozens of tarot decks make you happy, go ahead. If collecting crystals adds value to your practice, do so. If you find a box full of A-Z herbs useful, absolutely get it! My problem comes with the fact that none of these collections are necessary to becoming a witch, and it is often presented as such. The earliest witches we have records of did not have access to the wide range of spices and herbs we do. They did not have crystals, minerals, and stones from around the world to harness energy. They often did not have libraries of books to learn from - and likely, many would not have been able to read even if they did. They (usually) did not have specially made tools for their craft. They used what was available, they used what they knew and made and grew themselves, they learned from each other or practice or observation, and they used items that they already owned.

And so can we.

Capitalism and Witchcraft

As the other half of this topic, the relationship between capitalism and witchcraft is also concerning to me for a variety of reasons. I have noticed an increase in regular stores selling witchcraft goods in kits and little box sets and the like, and upon inspecting them, most are... inadequate, at the least. Generally, they are either very surface-level or very appropriative - neither of which should be something we should be thrilled about.

From selling white sage for 'smudging' and a cheap tarot deck in Sephora's Starter Witch Kit to TJ Maxx selling herb kits, mini mortars and pestles, and cheap divination decks as a Halloween gimmick, large companies are trying to cash in on the renewed interest in witchcraft. The increase in interest itself is not offensive - many witches I know appreciate the more open acceptance of a practice many of us have had to keep hidden for fear of judgment and safety. However, with large brands treating it like a trend without doing research or marketing it appropriately, it can cause harm.

I made a post recently about cultural appropriation in witchcraft, and two of the signs of appropriation are lacking respect for a practice and commercializing it. Large brands marketing things like tarot decks as fun games to play with your friends ignores the rich historical and cultural context attached to the cards, as well as the spiritual significance they take on for many readers. By giving surface-level books on how to read them, or failing to provide books at all, they encourage a lack of knowledge in the subject - another red flag for appropriation. By selling herb kits for 'smudging' containing things like white sage or palo santo, they are taking from closed practices and traditions that were often made illegal to those from whom they originated (yet another red flag), and teaching newcomers to as well.

This isn't to say a new witch cannot buy their first items from brands like this - many do not have the option of locally sourcing their materials from small businesses that put in the work to sell items respectfully, as these are still often far and in between. There may also be safety reasons or other reasons why they are unable to acquire tools in any other way, and my intent is not to pass judgment on those who do for whatever reason. My intent is to urge new witches to look beyond the surface of what these companies present, and to critique the companies for selling these items the way they do to begin with.

Some of these companies have removed their items due to backlash - as Sephora did with their kit - while others simply do not care. And, there is nothing we as individuals can do to stop the companies from trying, without organized collective action; and I do not believe our communities are at a place where that effort can be made in earnest just yet, though hopefully in the future they will be.

Moving Forward

So, from where I stand, it is up to us as consumers of both media and materials to think critically about what we are consuming. Whether that be questioning assumptions we make based on what we see online, or questioning the ethics of what we are purchasing and where it comes from.

Our lines will look different depending on where we are, what we practice, and the resources available to us. All I urge people to do is to do what they can to be intentional in their choices, and that if consuming from large companies and social media to put in the work to deepen the surface-level understanding they offer and grow on your own.

[kagurajinbaffxiv]

So to break from the norm of not posting, I have a short story about Mikoto that I've been working on for a bit. I wanted to write something like the 'Tales from...' released during the Rising events.

Hope you like it.

~~~~

Mikoto’s steps echoed around her, the silence around her making everything sound louder then it should have been. Mikoto thought back to why she was here, she always knew how this journey will end.

The bustling around Gangos never slowed down since they retook the Dalriada and today was nothing different. Bajsaljen was talking to her but she wasn’t really listening.

“Mikoto, stop”, Bajsaljen grabbed her before she stepped in front of a cart moving the supplies from the stockpile to the boats headed back to Bozja. “Mikoto, you’ve been not here for the past few days, has the echo given you another vision?” he said with the slightest hint of concern behind the admonishment

Mikoto looked at him, her mind finally back in the camp and knowing she had to leave “There’s something I need to go take care of, and I don’t expect to be back for a while”

“You are not one of my soldiers, you don’t need to seek permission from me, nor do you need to return, we can build back our home without your help” Bajsaljen said to her, she would be missed but he knew there was so much a young scholar needed to do that could not be achieved in his camp.

“No, but an old friend would have wanted me to help and see this through till the end, but I think this journey has to happen now”

Mikoto’s foot slipped on a loose stone that slipped and she tripped forward bringing her back to the present. The pain of the rocks on the path cutting into her as she used her hands to stop herself slamming her face into the ground. She let out a sigh, “I made it through a battlefield with less difficulty than this, what am I doing?”, asking no one but herself.

She got back up, and noticed a small graze on her knee, the blood welling up and staining her stockings.

She brushed off the dust and rocks then the glow of aether enveloped her knee as she used her magic to take care of herself, this wasn’t quite how she saw this trips finale happening, so maybe what she knew was going to happen would not occur.

The sound of the stones crunching underneath her feet started again as she started moving forward towards her destination again and thought of how she even got here.

The wind was blowing through her hair, the sea spray was still on the air this far away from the shore. She had made it from Gangos to Sharlayan with less fuss than she thought, and with the gleaners running around bringing in stock to deliver it it felt like she had not gone anywhere.

Mikoto knew where she was going, but where on a map it actually was she had no idea. In Sharlayan she would be able to find people who know where her destination actually was. The Scions were her best chance of finding her destination, and she knew Krile would know where they are to point her in the right direction and she was sitting outside the Students of Baldesion’s quarters, looking out at her second home.

She had not been back to Sharlayan in years, but it was still the same as when she was at the Studium, the bench where she had lunch with Moen almost daily was still there like nothing had changed in the years since then.

She could still remember the push Moen had given her to seek more than what was on that island once she get her Archon mark, and now she had seen so much more than either of them expected, she had been in the Dalriada when Diablo Armament had broken free and Misja had sacrificed herself to save the people she had betrayed and Mikoto had been saved from herself, she had seen what Auracite could do to people and been there when the Warrior of Light had defeated Ultima and learnt of the secret history that Ramza was involved in.

Mikoto was nothing like she was when she left, but her home had not changed. Mikoto knew she would be even more different when she returned again, would she feel at home in Sharlayan or would she feel like a stranger in where she had called home for so long.

A soft voice called out from the building behind her “Miss Jinba”, Krile was waving trying to get Mikoto’s attention. “I don’t know exactly where it is, but if you visit Mor Dhona you’ll find the Scions who will know where it is”, and with that Mikoto’s journey continued.

Mikoto was almost to the crest of the hill, the final steps until what she knew was going to happen will happen. She knew the echo could be misleading, but what she knew was going to happen could not be avoided, and she had to be here eventually and that could not be avoided.

She stopped for a second thinking back on the Warrior of Lights face when they took a map out and circled her destination.

“Are you sure you don’t want someone there with you?” their strained voice gave away that their echo had given away what Mikoto was about to do to herself.

“No, you know I have to do this, and I want to be alone for it” Mikoto softly replied.

“Fine” the Warrior replied clearly frustrated with her “but you will be back here after this is done right?”

“Yes, I will be back, can I ask to borrow a room from the Scions once I get back?”

The Warrior of light looked relieved, “Yes I will organise that now, take care until you get back, ok, it might be safer here than Bozja but don’t let your guard down”

*crunch crunch crunch*

The sound of her shoes stopped echoing all around her once her destination opened up before her, the crystalline tree standing over Thaliak’s mark, the place the scions had used to remember her lost friend.

Mikoto’s voice cracked as soon as she opened her mouth, she stopped to find the words she had to say.

“Hey Moen, there is so much I have seen that I want to tell you about”

Her tears started falling as Mikoto knew deep in her heart would happen as she said her goodbyes to her best friend.

[tokusmuts]

My holiday (Chapter 1)

Characters: Hidden Male Character x Yume Shinjo

Category: Miniseries

Words count: 1391

P/s: This is my first story I have ever did about Toku girls (of course with some additional I've recently added to it today). Please enjoy it as a replacement and I will be back with my main projects soon! Thank you so much for that!

I am the director of an estate company, which is very influential in the Japanese land investment world, and thanks to that, I get a lot of attention for girls, especially actresses and singers, and of course all the girls who are now officially my wife are actresses, especially from the Tokusatsu series - the birthplace of the Gravure model treasure famous throughout the country. And just like any other normal human being, I also need to take the holidays for myself to recharge. Today is my 2nd day of rest in this long holiday, each day is literally not related to anything work-related. Especially when staying with me during this holiday is Yume Shinjo - one of my favourite wives, a true sex machine. But if the whole day was just sex, it would be boring (actually for her only and I absolutely want to be at home and fill up inside her all day long). So to start a new day after having a passionate night of love, both of us decided to go to the mall to shop and see the scenery.

Yume and I are still standing on the balcony of a fairly high floor in this shopping center right in the heart of Tokyo, but on the occasion of winter with a beautiful sunny day, we decided to go out and she wanted to dress modestly so I can take some beautiful pictures to post on Instagram. But because I just did a few rounds all night with her yesterday, this morning we were both a bit tired. But this morning she was still pretty enough to smile when taking pictures. The air at the high altitude is fresh, but what always makes me want to see the most is her body. Her big and tight butt kept my dick working all night long, the feeling when the succulent skin from her butt stuck to my groin made me want to do it. forever, also those full breasts, no wonder why she always calls me baby, I can suck them all day without having to take them off even though she still has no milk in her breasts. Back to the present, she's wearing a pink sweater, but it's tight enough for her breasts to rise above the shirt, the bottom has nothing to see since the dress is covered all of them, along with high heels. But just those breasts are enough, just when Yume was still enjoying the air, I came right behind her, hugged her tightly, and still did not forget to squeeze her breasts.

"What's wrong? Aren't you hungry yet?" - she said, looked at me and smiled

"Yeah! Yesterday, I still didn't eat enough!" - nothing is enough when eating her

“But we’re in public! We should go home and you can do whatever you want!" - she said and gave me a kiss

"That's what I wanna hear"

So we decided to go home after finishing the photo work. And as she took off her high heels, Yume slowly began to pull down her skirt to reveal her white panties with her toned butt. Then continue with the pink sweater, today she is wearing a loose white bra, so today my work seems to be reduced quite a bit. I was just waiting for that to come straight up from behind, pick her up and throw her straight on the sofa. We started with gentle kisses, then gradually moved on to sucking each other's lips. The kisses continued to become more intense, making her also begin to find it difficult to breathe, feeling that it was not enough, I reached down to that wet place and stroked the outside of that panty, making her moan every time in her throat. Eating her lips clean, I moved down to that sweet neck area and left a few light hickey marks on it, enough for no one to notice the next day if she were to perform. And then with just two fingers, I tugged her bra down. The bra just slid down and released her breasts full of life. The two newly released soft nipples bounced back and forth and the scene made me very excited, those nipples are small but on those breasts, they are perfect. I didn't wait any longer, but went ahead to suckle, cach sucking on those nipples made her moan with joy while one of my hands was squeezing hard on the other breast, occasionally tightening the other nipple, in then the other hand went inside the panties and started using 2 fingers to stab her pussy

“Aahhh. ..kimochi...aaahhh..suck the other side too..aaahhh"

I kept sucking on both breasts continuously as if they had milk. My fingers down there work faster and harder

“Ahhh..faster please...aahhh...I'm out...aaahhh”

And then when I inserted a third finger into it, a stream of milky white water flowed out, soaking her underwear.

"Let me go down and clean it up." - I said

"Yes, please” - She said while still breathing

Then I let go of her breasts regretfully, but going down and seeing her wet panties, I took it off right away and then met my eyes with a wet and still wet pussy. so many solutions to that pleasure. I buried my face and started licking her pussy, the moment my tongue touched that tender skin, her whole body shivered and her whole body swelled in pleasure.

"aahhh...that’s right...aahhh...suck it up...aaahhh”

"As you wish” - That’s what I’m waiting

My tongue began to penetrate inside, going through every nook and cranny and licking every spot. Every time I sucked on her part, she moaned in satisfaction, as if begging me to do more. Her thighs kept clamping my head, but that stimulated my desire even more because the skin on her thighs was so soft and succulent, I had to leave that wet place many times just to suck on her thighs a few times, her grip makes me feel like I'm surrounded by really soft pillows.

"Aahh... more honey...I'm coming...aaahhh”

Her words of encouragement seemed to motivate me to use more force and suck hard on her cunt.

“Aahhh...I'm out...I'm out...AAAHHH"

That scream was accompanied by a stream of water that shot straight into my mouth, I swallowed them all but could not help but rub by the delicious taste of the water.

"You already shot at me, now it's your turn to shoot at you again" - I looked at her cunt and couldn’t hold my dick anymore

Then I took off my pants, my dick was already as hard as ever and just waiting to get inside her. I was lying on top of her shoving my dick into her cunt just like there was an eternal lubricant. I began to push her slowly, and still slowly increasing the speed, she moaned in pleasure after each thrust ny lower body was attacking hers.

"Aahhh...kimochii....aahhh...don't stop honey...aahhh” - she kept moaning nonstop

“Aahhh..I’m going to cum too...I'm going to cum...aahhh” - I also cannot stop moaning alongside hers

"Shoot it, please..AAAHHH" - she screamed in pleasure

After about 30 minutes of bouncing up and down, I finally got my first full load on her. But pushing the hole in the front wasn't enough, the best place to fire the bullets - her ass wasn't even there yet. So I turned her over and raised her hips, even though her upper body was tired and no longer wanted to work, that kneeling position naturally helped her buttocks expand in an extraordinary way, and not there's no reason why I would refuse it, I shoved the still wet dick with sperm on it into the narrow gap between her two peaches and locked it with the sImooth skin of her buttock area into me. We went on to play a few more rounds of Doggy, and it's true that with that wonderful butt no matter how long it takes, because just a few slaps while pushing and looking at the way it bounces is not enough. Any limit is enough for it at all. But when my strength was exhausted, I also gradually passed out on the back of the girl who had been moaning for the past hour.

Read chapter 2 here

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

[nctrenjunie]

Dance with me~ Jeno (M)

Author: Sera

Pairing: Jeno X Reader

Genre: Smut

Requested

Comment: Happy new year everyone!!!😊🎊 I wish yall a healthy, productive and happy year and take care of yourselves! I finally stopped working so now I've got more time to concentrate on school and to write. It´s been a while since I've posted a smut so feedback is always welcomed🤗 Love you lots💜

You were mesmerized by these hips. 

You were trying to observe every swift move they did as they hit every little beat that blasted out of the music box perfectly, silklike movements making him glide elegantly but overall teasingly through the practice room. The dim lights without daylight shining into the room weren’t really helping you to get your dirty thoughts out of your head as you kept analyzing his every move. 

And just as you thought his deep eyes were focused on his own reflection in the big mirror, trying to perfectionate every little move, he sometimes tried to catch a glance of your reflection that would make him end up with a knowing grin. Just by looking at your face once he knew you were in for a dance, excitingly waiting for the music to end.

Meanwhilst, your unknowingly self tried to pull yourself together as his sharp and tired breathes seemed to dominate your ears more than the music itself. Your eyes were focused on the sweat droplets that made his skin shine under the weak light and you could feel yourself getting hotter. You tried to catch his focused stare that made something tingle inside of you. But the most beautiful sight you've got to see tonight, so far, was probably his big hands moving so softly over his own body making you wish for them to be your hands that were touching him right now. Ughhh you would die for this man.

 Happiness rushed over you as the music came to an abrupt stop. Silence.

The only thing filling the void that seemed to be present in the practice room was his rapid pants. Both of you stayed like this for a while, to your advantage obviously, as you were able to profit from this beautiful sight. Jeno was panting, his black sportfit clenched tightly to his marmor like body and you, you were actually just here to pick him up but to your luck the other members already left and this view wasn't meant to end here. 

Just as you were about to speak up Jeno interrupted you after catching his breath. You admired his gorgeous back as his head turned slightly into your direction. Facing you with a big smile that seemed to appear godly you weren't really prepared for the unholy dance with the devil you were getting into.

“Hey baby, Would you like to dance with me?”

Stretching out one of his hands towards you you took it anticipatingly. Jeno pulled you in front of him, facing the mirror as he pressed your back against his well formed abs. Fuck, you just wanted him to dick you down.

But as always, he wanted to tease you taking your neediness to his advantage. The thought of his sweaty body against your clean clothes fastily vanished away when he started to move your hips slowly. Getting rid of your shirt, the big hand on your waist felt like it was burning its pleasure into your skin. His fiery eyes met yours once in the mirror before he pulled you in a sharp movement closer to him. Both hands were now on your hips, moving them sensually in circular motion which made you feel his big boner under his sweatpants. The small breaths you reacted with satisfied him enough to lick a quick line from your collarbone almost up to your ear before he started to burn hot kisses behind your right ear.

You were about to leave out a small moan before it was rapidly replaced by a hiss as you could feel his teeth biting softly into the crook of your neck. The light pleasure Jeno was giving to you made you anticipate the real course even more meanwhile Jeno was just satisfied with teasing you and rocking your hips slowly against his, for now.

The moment your left hand moved itself down into your pants, jeno stopped your little dance abruptly. You could feel the tension rising up, unsure about his next move. In a swift move Jeno spinned you around, making you face him before he pressed you against the mirror. A wide smirk sneaked itself onto his angelic seeming face, Fuck he was gorgeous. The sucking on your skin made his lips look glossy. You were able to admire how his tongue was slightly flicking against his teeth and then there were his deep brown eyes, making you wanna fall deeper into him. 

Jeno noticed your little observation session and so before a innocent smile got the chance to plaster his face he smashed his lips against yours. The way your head banged slightly against the mirror didn't seem to bother you as one of his hands opened up your pants and made its way into your underwear without wasting time. The room was now totally filled with lewd panting as both of you tried to keep your lips as long as possible connected before you had to grasp for air. The way two of his fingers were painting their way like a paintbrush over your slit made you throw your head even more against the mirror, whining out loud as his thumb worked magic against your clit. Head thrown back, mouth agape, eyes pressed closed… you looked like a goddess to him.

“You look so sexy baby, i love it when you have that expression on your face and it's all just because of me. Do you like it when I play with your pussy? Were you thinking about that when you watched me dance? Yes baby, were you thinking about me sticking my long ass fingers into your tight little hole?”

His words turned you on so much your moans were at this point unstoppable. Just as you wanted to grasp for air, Jeno pumped two of his fingers into your pussy, leaving a content growl as he heard you scream out loud from the extensive pleasure. Jeno was enjoying himself enough just by watching you pant and moan out but he didn't complain as you moved your hand down into his sweatpants to take out his already hard dick. He hissed when he felt your nail slowly gliding over the tip of his dick, precum dripping down your hand onto the dancefloor. Starting to press rough kisses against your skin again you panted out loud when he added a third finger, pumping them slowly into you. The other hand that wasn't busy with moving up and down jenos shaft went straight up into your hair trying to cope with the excessive pleasure Jeno was giving you.

“Will my baby girl cum for me now? Let it go Y/N, cum on my fingers like my little slut.”

His words were the end of you as you felt your release coming over you like a tidal wave. Jeno was pleased with the sight, admiring the effect he had on you before pulling his fingers out of your pussy and liking them clean. A content smile plastered itself onto his lips as he bucked his hips into your tired hand. But following another goal, he carried your tired form onto the floor. Getting rid of his clothes he pulled down your pants before carefully sliding your underwear away from your entrance. Laying tiredly on the floor, jeno seated behind you on his knees, aligned his cock skillfully before your entrance. His hands were gripping around your hips as he inserted the tip of his cock inside you. You whined needy as you could formly feel his smirk whilst he pulled himself out again, gliding his cock over your slit.

Just when you were about to lose hope about getting dicked down because of his endless teasing, Jenos hand moved down to the back of your neck. You could feel his hot breath against your ear and his body pressed against yours.

“Would you like to find out what else these hips can do beside dancing? I’m gonna fuck your so hard Y/N so you can find it out on your own.”

Jenos whispering voice was finally interrupted by both of your loud pants as he rammed his dick inside of you without a break. Jeno pumped himself in and out of your tight pussy as he could already feel your walls clench around his dick. Pulling his hand into your hair you could feel his hips slapping against you and the way his other hand held a tight grip onto your hip to keep you in place. Your fingernails were already trying to find some kind of escape from the neverending pleasure by scratching the floor. Jeno was never stopping, now grasping at your shoulder for a better halt to pound even deeper into your pussy. Knowing that he'll cum soon his hand moved onto your neck with a tight grasp pulling you onto your knees against himself. 

“Fuck Jeno….I I can’t hold it anymo….”

You couldn't really talk with jenos hand choking you slightly and the way his cock was now hitting you even deeper from this new angle. You felt your high rushing over you, clenching your walls around jenos shaft as your eyes rolled back automatically, overwhelmed by this pleasure. Jenos pounds became slower but stronger, feeling him ramm into you with every breath.

“Oh baby I’m about to cum, fuck ”

Pounding into you one last time Jeno came into you as you could feel your pussy become warm by his cum painting your insides. The room was filled by your loud pants as he pulled out of you, admiring his cum slowly dripping out of your pussy. Laying next to your tired body he sneaked himself a small kiss on your cheek.

“We should dance together more often baby.”       

[lostysworld]

My dar(k)ling – The Darkling x reader

Part 7

Masterlist

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warning: just a lot of OOC Aleksander

Summary: The new day starts in unexpected way for you and ends up just the same.

Early morning sun starts rising when everyone is still asleep. Fortunately, your window is on its way and the beams happily crawl inside of your place lurking across your bed.

When one of the rays reaches your face you wince. How is it possible to be so bright so early? But as soon as you are ready to open your eyes, the air around you darkens.

It makes you open your eyes anyway only to see grinning Aleksander by your side. You rub your eyes sleepily trying to supress broad smirk, as that strange feeling spreads inside your chest fast.

– You look surprised, - the man chuckle watching you getting deeper under the covers.

– You stayed.

– You didn't want me to?

You don't know what to respond. It is the second time when he is in your bed and that feeling of comfort and security, that the man provides you with, makes you agree on whatever he may offer.

But instead of voicing your thoughts you shrug your shoulders. The man extends his arm to reach for your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

– What time is it? - you raise your head looking around, as watching the man in front of you makes you lose the track of time.

– Five in the morning.

– Genya will be here soon. Or Ivan.

– I think we should get up.

With this Aleksander rolls to your side placing a soft kiss on your forehead, leaving you speechless. When he raises up from the bed, you still lay on your place.

– Actually, - as soon as he turns to face you, you manage to stand up immediately. – I have something for you.

– I've told you-

– I want you to go see the seamstress today, Y/N.

You barely roll your eyes. He's doing this again, and you can't stop this man from raiding your wardrobe.

– What if I don't want anything from you, general? - he doesn't look at you, putting his kefta on, but you notice the man furrowing.

– And you didn't want that gloves for your archery trainings from Fedyor too?

After a second of tense silence you come up to him, stopping all his previous movements.

– Hey, - you call softly making him look at you. – They are my friends, don't be jealous. It's foolish.

– It is a present-

– I don't want...presents. Look-

– Why don't you call me by my name?

The general showers you with questions, as you keep looking at him not saying a word. He's angry when you refuse to accept his presents, what will he think, if you say that saying his name feels too intimate. Too much for the current level of your trust to him.

The man shortens the space between you lifting your chin up with his finger. Before he goes on with convincing you again, you start speaking.

– I am here not to be showered with your gifts, Aleksander, - he keeps that serious expression, but gladly smirks, when hears his name on your lips. – Since I've started practicing with Baghra, I know that I need to acquire my powers.

– Why? Last time we were talking about it, you didn't want to do anything.

– I'm still not going to serve you, - you throw a mischievous glance at the man, knowing his way of thoughts. – But my power was given to me not to fear it and waste my life doing nothing.

His unreadable gaze is slowly trailing your form, and you can't say if he's displeased by your answer or just in his thoughts.

Your suspicions are interrupted by a loud strict knock, and you already know who it is.

– It's yours, - Aleksander arches a brow playfully opening the door. Ivan stands in the doorway with his face blank, that you almost laugh at this. The heartrender feels so awkward, you are sure, that he may already regret about knocking.

While you are in the washroom, Ivan is gone, and Aleksander is ready to leave too. You find the general waiting for saying goodbye to you.

– Any plans for today, Y/N? - you lean your head to the side remembering the moment.

– Lessons with Baghra, I guess. She will hardly let me go before time's up.

The man brushes your forearms up and down, as you come closer to him. Watching his eyes, you know that he doesn't want to leave now, and it even touches you, but the only thoughts in your head are about your upcoming practice.

With your unstable powers both able to lit a matchstick or burn a house down at the same time you see something in yourself that less than nothing.

– Will I meet you at the evening? - you smirk lightly at his words.

– As you want, general.

He chuckles gripping his arms on yours.

– Will you call me by my rank every time now or-

– Alexander.

His grin drops once the words leave you mouth, and you get to think, that it was a bad idea. The moment Aleksander presses his lips on you forehead in a firm kiss holding you tightly, all previous thoughts vanish from your head.

You lean into the gesture instinctively, trying to remember everything about these seconds.

– I will see you tonight, Y/N.

With that the general leaves you to just stand in the middle of the empty room.

You look around watching the archery targets around you, and furrow.

– Why are we here?

Your glance slips onto a woman dressed in everything black, circling around you. Baghra gives you a strict glance and looks down at her cane.

– I don't want my place burnt to the ground, and you seem to deal with it quite easy, - she continues circling around you making you nervous. – Besides, I'm done playing the game, when I am talking and you are not listening.

You roll your eyes, but instantly a heavy cane hits your wrists. You hiss from the sudden sharp pain, noticing strict gaze of Baghra on you.

– Don't make that face.

– Don't make that face.

– Maybe you want to leave me here and continue without seeing that face, general.

Memories runs across your mind, and you barely hold back a scoff from how similar these frases sound.

The woman walks away from you, waving her hand at, signaling to start. The next moment there is a fire covered your cupped hand, like a small bonfire on a palm.

– You wouldn't even frighten a bird with this fire, girl.

A swift movement of your wrist makes the fire in your hand literally roar.

– Grisha's magic is Small Science, they absorb material around them, - Baghra watches your hand carefully. – Yours one comes from emotions. Anger, joy, sorrow...grief.

– Don't I need to control myself and calm down?

– Your magic is chaotic. But calming down will only limit you, - you furrow. The last time you didn't control yourself dozens of people died. – The fire that killed your family and other villagers was accidental. You've tried to gain control over it and failed. You don't need to calm down, just to let it all go. True control goes from the chaos.

– I don't understand you-

– And you won't, if staying like this! If you are going to waste my-

– I am not wasting your time!

Baghra barely visibly flinches as the closest target fires up from your anger burst.

– Go on like this, witch, and your next archery session you will be aiming at the recruits instead of it.

You wave your hand letting the air flow wrap the burning target, blowing the fire away, making it dissappear.

– Again.

Honestly the only thing you want to do is go away, but your original reasons of trainings keeps you in place. As if reading your thoughts Baghra comes closer.

– What do you really want to get here?

The answer is on the surface yet you take your time to think.

– I don't want to think twice before doing magic. I want it to become a skill, not the nature's whim, - a familiar sparkle of dedication lights up inside you. – I intend to tame the wildfire.

If you didn't know this woman, you would say she's scowling. But learning a little about her, you know, she's almost smiling. Baghra turns away mumbling something quietly only for her to hear.

– Try again then. We have a lot to cover up today.

– You skipped the dinner, Y/N.

The first thing you see coming into your room late at the evening is general sitting next to your table. The second is half a dozen of boxes on the bed.

– Really? - you rub your forehead tiredly. – I must have lost the track of time with Baghra.

– How was your training though? - the man stands up coming to these closed boxes, while you can only guess what can be inside of them.

– Well...I think she doesn't want to kill me anymore.

– Then you've made quite the progress.

Your exhausted smile makes him furrow, and with that he lifts up the top of the first box.

– I've realized you wouldn't visit the seamstress today, so, - looking inside you first see the color. – I brought it here for you.

Your hands reach for the item uncontrollably. When you finally take it from the wrapping, the stunning dark green dress, the same color as your fete gown was, appears in your hands.

The gasp of awe is drawn from you unexpectedly. The fabric is soft like a feather, and the material is light and thin. You actually didn't see anyone wearing clothes of that kind.

– No one in the Little Palace is wearing such dresses.

It reminds you more of a long shirt with sleeves a collar and a soft fabric belt.

– Seems, you are the first, right?

Aleksander's grin is more of 'happy of himself' one, and you just tilt your head to the side watching the man.

– You are spoiling me, general.

– Maybe I just want you to smile in the end of a busy day.

You keep opening and closing your mouth. How can he possibly say these things so easily? Sometimes his straightforwardness amazes you.

– Thank you, really. I appreciate the gesture.

You lay the dress back on the bed's blanket opening the second box. Inside you see something more familiar, and this makes you smile even more.

It is a knee-length kefta of the same deep green color, but without any embroidery like other grisha have. Despite this the item is tailored just perfectly, you can barely take your eyes off it.

Seems, now you have that one thing in you wardrobe, which you will cling for dear life to.

– It's gorgeous..., - you can't choose other words as it appears to be a little hard to you in this state. And if you was against any presents from Aleksandee earlier, that one was worth wearing it. – Saints, thank you!

You turn to the man standing behind watching your reaction closely. With ine swift movement your arms encircle his neck dragging him in embrace, drawing a low laughter from his chest.

The general presses you closer, letting himself to relax, while you don't notice his tired wincing. Expression of light despair on his face.

It is so little to make you happy.

Tearing yourself from his figure you place a firm yet gentle kiss on his cheek, cupping his other one with your palm.

– And thank you for coming. It feels nice to have you near, Aleksander.

Not that these words are special in some way. But for him they are his own small victory of the day.

Every heartrender, he is sure, can hear his rapid heartbeat this moment. He smiles softly to you, touching your forehead with his closing his eyes and relaxing.

– Can I just hold you, Y/N?

You chuckle opening your eyes.

– It's already late, - you see a sparkle of disappointment in his eyes, but go on fast. – But of course you can.

The man wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you back to his chest, exhaling from your tender grip on his shoulders.

This night you both spend in your own rooms, but you will still feel this familiar warmth till the new day begins.

@aleksanderwh0r3 @all-art-is-quite-useless

[mimisempai]

Come close, show me your scars, let us heal together

Summary

You might think it's another version of Sam comforting Bucky, but I promise it's not.

When the nightmare is a common memory where one is the executioner and the other the victim, how to support each other? Is it possible to heal together?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31571318

Words 2540 - Rating G

The Winter Soldier pulled on the wire with all his might to tear off one of Sam's wings.

Then with a powerful kick he pushed Sam off the top of the Helicarrier.

Buckyyyyy!

Saaaaam! Sam!

"Sam!"

Bucky woke up with a start, Sam's name on the lips.

He reached behind him, and fumbled until he encountered Sam's body.

Gradually the wave of relief replaced the wave of horror into which his nightmare had plunged him.

But could he really call a nightmare a vivid memory?

He must have been screaming loudly only in his mind, because Sam hadn't moved a muscle and was still asleep judging by the regularity of his breathing.

Bucky got up slowly so as not to wake him. He went into the kitchen, made himself a cup of tea, walked through the living room, grabbed a blanket as he passed and went to sit on the boardwalk.

Night terrors were not something unusual for him and Sam.

At the beginning of their life together, they were used to overcoming their nightmares alone, to waking up alone, and they didn't talk about it. They did everything not to wake the other, until one night during a nightmare more traumatic than others, Sam had woken Bucky by screaming.

As they talked that night, they realized the comfort they could give each other, that they no longer had to struggle alone.

And just like that, they established a kind of pattern, a way to overcome their trauma. In a rather well-oiled mechanism, one waking up the other, they prepared a cup of tea, a return to reality through domestic gestures, before going to sit on the boardwalk, the contemplation of the immutable lake helping them to regain their serenity. It was not uncommon for the rising sun to find them asleep against each other.

But tonight Bucky had not woken Sam.

He couldn't. Not when this nightmare was Sam's. Not when he was Sam's tormentor in this nightmare. How could he ask Sam to help him overcome this nightmare?

This nightmare that had actually happened.

Bucky looked down at his hands, it was those hands that had pushed Sam off the helicarrier.

He looked down at his hands, at his cursed arm, and felt as if he couldn't catch enough air, no matter how hard he breathed in, his lungs didn't seem to want to fill. His heart was beating wildly. He brought his hands to his chest in pain.

"Bucky..."

He opened his eyes, Sam was kneeling before him.

"Bucky, may I touch you?"

Bucky could do nothing but nod his head.

Sam simply placed his hands on his knees and said, "Concentrate on your breathing. Stay in the present Bucky."

"That's it, slowly, with me, inhale, two three, four, exhale, two, three, four." Sam repeated slowly, over and over, until Bucky found a steady breathing pattern.

"Are you with me Bucky?"

Bucky, still unable to answer out loud, nodded again.

"Can I let go for a second?"

Another nod.

Sam moved to sit behind Bucky, so that Bucky's back was resting on his chest. He covered them both with the blanket Bucky had brought with him and wrapped his arms around him.

"Lean against me and keep breathing with me, okay?"

Gradually he felt Bucky relax against him, and they stayed for long minutes like that.

Sam whispered after a moment, "Do you feel like talking about it?"

Bucky replied with a hoarse voice, "How? How can you hold me like that and be like that with me after what I did to you?"

"Bucky?"

"You almost died several times at my hands Sam, when I was the winter soldier, how can you stand my presence, how can you love me?"

Sam tightened his arms around Bucky and rested his forehead on his shoulder.

He took the time to think before answering.

To say he had no trauma from his fall from the helicarrier would be a lie, but this wasn't his first near death experience. His nightmares were more often due to his experience as a soldier and Riley's death.

This is what he said to Bucky before continuing, "Bucky, it's easy for me to love you because it wasn't you. Yes, I know at first I told Steve that you were one of those people that can't be saved. But I'm glad I was wrong. You're nothing like the one who was fighting me. You could grow your hair back, wear your mask, the same outfit, you wouldn't be him. You ask me how I can stand your presence Bucky. It's enough that I watch you live here, that I watch you play with the kids, help Sarah on the boat, chat with Carlos and especially the way you look at me Bucky, the way you look at me when you think I can't see you. In all of this I see you Bucky, not the winter soldier, not the man who pushed me from the helicarrier, or shot me, I see just you. The man I love."

He pressed a kiss to Bucky's hair. He let out a long sigh, and Sam felt him relax a little more against him.

"In my dream it was horrible, because I could see myself pushing you into the void and there was nothing I could do to stop myself."

"See, even your mind is telling you that it wasn't you. Yes, he is part of you. He left you with the memories of what he did, but it's not you. That's not who you are Bucky. I wouldn't have spent two years on the run for the Winter Soldier, but for Bucky Barnes I have."

Bucky turned his head and kissed him softly before resuming his position, leaning even further if it was possible into Sam's embrace.

"I love you Sam Wilson."

Sam tightened his arms around him just a little more and buried his face in Bucky's neck breathing in his scent, then asked, "Do you want to go back to bed?"

Bucky shook his head, "No, I want to stay here a little longer. Talk to me."

"Talk to you about what?"

"No wait, I have a better idea."

Bucky stood up and said to Sam with a wave of his hand, "Move along a little."

"Bucky... what are you..."

"Please Sam do as I ask."

Sam, having no idea of Bucky's intentions, did as he asked. Bucky took the position that Sam had with him. Sam sat between his legs, Bucky covered them with the blanket and hugged him the same way Sam had before.

Then he whispered in Sam's ear, "I want Sam Wilson to tell me something he has never told me before. You know everything about me, all my weaknesses, all my mistakes, all my pain, but there's a lot I don't know about Sam Wilson. What he's afraid of, what makes him sad, what makes him angry. So tell me something, tip the scales a little, you took care of me, let me show you that I can do the same for you too. That you can lean on me as much as I can lean on you. Anything, I won't judge you."

As Bucky spoke, Sam, feeling safe in his arms, was surprised himself at wanting to let go.

But the word, the name that swirled in his head, the one that haunted some of his nightmares, refused to pass his lips.

Bucky waited patiently, aware of Sam's inner struggle.

His years as a Winter Soldier or just because he was watching Sam since a long time, he had noticed the veil of sadness that passed over Sam's face when he mentioned his soldier past and specifically when he mentioned Riley.

Bucky figured it wasn't his place to ask. That Sam would talk when he needed to.

But tonight, when Sam once again had been supportive and proved how deep his feelings for Bucky were, Bucky had felt that this might be the perfect time.

When living with Sam, it was not hard to see how selfless he was.

Often to the detriment of his own needs.

But Bucky was there for that now. Bucky was ready to be the vessel for his anger, his struggles, his disappointments, his flaws, for all that the world could not see.

All he had to do was convince the man in question.

So he waited, patiently, tightening his hold every time he felt Sam hesitate.

Until Sam began to speak, his voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"Riley and I were pararescuemen working in the 58th Rescue Squadron. We were also both test pilots for the Falcon EXO-7. Our unit was on a mission to apprehend Khalid Khandil, a notable target in Afghanistan."

Bucky just put his hands on Sam's which were slightly trembling.

"Khandil was hiding in an area protected by soldiers using RPGs, preventing the U.S. Air Force from sending helicopters into the area. We had to infiltrate the area using EXO-7 Falcons, which allowed us much more movement than the helicopters. Riley was hit and killed by one of the RPGs, and there was nothing I could do to help him, I just watched him die. I don't think I've ever so much in my life experienced a sense of helplessness."

Sam made another pause, knowing that what he was about to confide in Bucky would not be easy for either of them.

"I didn't want to tell you about this just before, but I have to now, and I hope this won't make you feel any guiltier, but before you pushed me off the helicarrier, you threw Steve off before. And seeing him fall like that, in that moment I felt for a split second as helpless as the day I lost Riley."

For a moment Bucky wondered how many more times he would have to face the consequences of his actions when he was the Winter Soldier. But he soon collected himself because it wasn't about him now, it was about Sam.

"Oh Sam, I'm so sorry." he tightened his embrace.

"I didn't say that to make you apologize, I just want you to know that the worst nightmare I have of this moment is not my fall but Steve's. Steve was able to make it, but Riley... Riley wasn't a super soldier, we didn't have super powers, just our wings, and he fell just like that. It should have been me, I..."

Sam couldn't go on. His throat was tight, he could no longer speak.

Bucky simply said, "Let it go, Sam."

Sam muttered something, his voice so low that Bucky was not able to understand.

"Hm?"

"I don't know how... I'm fighting so hard to be strong that I don't know how to let go."

"Wait..." Bucky turned Sam around, who complied, so that he was facing him, then put the blanket around them. He cradled Sam's head under his chin and tightened his arms around him, then whispered into Sam's hair.

"Sam, you don't have to be strong all the time. And especially not here, with me, in my arms. I'm right here. Let me be strong for you. I promise I won't let you down. Let go, I've got you."

Sam closed his eyes and bit his lip, trying to calm himself against everything that threatened to overwhelm him. He was so ready to give in and Bucky's words were potentially the thing that could push him over the edge. He let out a shaky breath and let himself be engulfed by the sensations, in the safety of the strong arms that were wrapped around him, solid and secure, not remembering if since his father, he had felt such a strong sense of security in someone's arms.

There was nothing to stop the tears now, and he tried as hard as he could to hold them back, unable to stop them. He buried his face in Bucky's chest, the tears now uncontrollable. Bucky hugged him even tighter and gently stroked his back, whispering words of encouragement and comfort into his hair. They stayed like that for a long time and as morning approached, Sam loosened up a bit from Bucky, took a breath and wrapped his arms around himself, looking at Bucky, whose expression was nothing but understanding and acceptance.

"I... I didn't think I still had all this pain in me, or rather I did, but I didn't know I needed to express it. I thought moving on would be enough. You know, Riley was exceptional, I think I even had a crush on him, he had this optimism and hope in people. I don't know if that's why he became a rescuer, but he believed that everyone had a chance. He saw the good in everyone. So I thought it would be okay if I continued, behaving in a way that honored his memory, that it would help me grieve."

"But that didn't help you, did it? Not until you faced it. It still affects you, you know that. I've seen it." Bucky said softly.

"I'm not denying it, but I didn't think taking the time to think about it, sharing it with someone would help me. It's just... I've been dealing with it on my own for so long, buried it for so long that to suddenly be confronted with it is...unsettling."

Bucky brushed a hand across his cheek, wiping a tear that lingered in the corner of Sam's eye with the tip of his thumb.

"I know Sam. Believe me I know."

"Just because you know, it makes it a little easier," Sam said quickly, grabbing Bucky's hand and intertwining his fingers with his. "It's so hard and painful, but you help me. You of all people know what it's like to feel guilty when rationally you know you're not."

Bucky continued to hold Sam's hand tightly, scrutinizing his face, torn between overwhelming elation that Sam had been able to trust him so much, and bitter sadness that he needed to. His need to protect Sam was stronger than ever and it broke his heart to think of the pain Sam must have carried inside him without being able to express it.

Because words were not enough to describe the emotion that was overwhelming him, he lifted Sam's chin and chose to express everything he felt in another way. He took Sam's face in his hands and pressed soft kisses to his cheeks before putting his lips to Sam's and kissing him gently and slowly. Sam put his arms around Bucky and responded to the kiss with the same gentleness until Bucky broke the kiss and said his mouth against Sam's.

"I love you."

Sam didn't answer, he just hugged Bucky tighter and put his head in his neck. They stayed in that embrace until the sun came up. They let its warm rays erase the last shadows of that night before returning to their home.

They were to face another day, together, their hearts happy to know that they would no longer face this life alone. That they would protect this life, together, with all the power, love and hope they possessed. ______

I'm still exploring their relationship, I know my writing is simple and wonky, but I'm learning.

Thank you for reading.

[itsadamcole]

arranged

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

reader was just a regular American girl who has some royal family members in Scotland. Drew is the heir to the Scottish throne, and he needed to marry to become king. Drew and reader were married only days after they met, making reader a Scottish princess. both were against the wedding. now, the two want nothing to do with each other unless they have to attend a public event, until one night ...

word count: 3.6k

warnings: prince!drew, arguments, arranged marriage (ig that's what you can call it?), angst, a tiny bit of fluff

— this was originally gonna be one part but now it’s two bc that’s just the way the writing brought me. this was also gonna go in a completely different direction than it did but now this is it. enjoy —

part 2 || masterlist || request an imagine here

***

You're getting ready in your chambers. The maids are helping you get ready for the annual New Years Ball that the royal family of Scotland puts on every January 1st. Your long Y/H/C colored hair is being curled by one of the maids while another does your makeup. A third maid is making sure your dress and shoes are ready for you for when your hair and makeup are done.

Balls are not your thing. Actually, going out in public with your husband is not your thing. It's only a few times a week but you're not all about the fake smiles and hand-holding when you were never supposed to marry him anyway.

Being a princess was not on your list of things to be in life. You were an up and rising professional wrestler. Your great Aunt Blair asked you to come to Scotland to meet someone while you were wrestling on Ring of Honor. You had no idea that she meant that she actually volunteered you to marry the heir to the Scottish throne.

The maid doing your hair throws some little white flowers with a sparkly silver lining on the end of the petals. The maid doing your makeup has done a silver smokey eye look with some highlight, blush, and nude lipstick color.

Your nails were done earlier in the day. You got an acrylic French manicure. The nails are kind of long and oval-shaped.

"Princess," one of the maids says. "Yer dress is ready for ya when ya're."

You look at the ballgown hanging up in your large closet and sigh softly.

Once your hair and makeup are done, you get up. One of the maids grabs the dress. You take off the long, silky robe and the dress is pulled over your head. You're zipped up and the maids puff out the skirt.

The silver ball gown is very poofy with a small trail. The dress is strapless and very sparkly. The neck dips down a little bit. The top is tight and gets poofy at the waist. You put on silver heels to match the dress.

You put on silver earrings and a necklace, as well as your diamond engagement ring and silver wedding band.

There's a knock on your door as one of the maids put on a silver tiara since you are the princess of Scotland. Another one answers the door.

"Oh, yer highness," she says, bowing. "The princess is almost ready."

A male voice says, "Thank ya, Miss Arabel." Your husband, Drew, is at the door.

After some finishing touches, you're finally ready. You walk up to the door and look at Drew, who's dressed nicely in a black and white suit with a silver tie to match you. His hair in a neat ponytail on the back of his head. He's also wearing his wedding band.

"Ready?" he asks. You can hear the annoyance in his voice.

You nod and mumble, "Sure."

Drew hooks his arm with yours and the two of you head down to the ballroom.

You wait at the door with Drew's father and brother. The royal family is announced together. Drew's father, the King of Scotland, says, "Y/N, ya look stunning. Doesn't she, Drew?" He looks at his eldest son.

Drew just nods and says, "Sure, it's a little too much though."

Anger rises within you as Drew's dad signals for the door to be opened. The guard at the door opens the door and another guard yells, "Introducing the Royal Family of Scotland. The king, Andrew, Prince Drew, Princess Y/N, and Prince John."

Music plays and a fake smile forms on your lips as you follow Drew's father into the large ballroom. Most of the room is made of gold and a large chandelier hangs on the ceiling.

"The princess looks stunning."

"Look at the princess."

The comments make you blush and the fake smile turns real. Drew looks down at you without you knowing.

You and Drew mingle, talking with guests together. Drew steals occasional glances at you but you don't notice as you laugh with the guests.

Being an American, you're still learning about all the Scottish traditions. You've only been over here for a few months so everyday is a learning experience. The guests ask what you did for the holidays with Drew and his family since it's your first time in the country.

"Oh, we celebrated Christmas the way we do in America," you explain to the guests who asked. "Christmas Eve dinner, presents on Christmas morning, and Christmas dinner on Christmas Day. Drew and I also watched some Christmas movies that night. I've heard that Scotland's Christmas traditions are similar to America's."

You added the part about Drew to make it seem like you and your husband actually spent time together on Christmas. After dinner, you went off to your separate chambers and you watched Christmas movies over FaceTime with your friend who now works in NXT, Candice LeRae.

The guests are all very interested. Then the music changes and Drew asks, "M'lady, may I have this dance?"

You look up at Drew and say, "Uh, yeah. Sure." He takes your hand and you excuse yourself from the small group and walk to the dance floor with Drew.

He takes one of your hands in his and the other goes to your waist. You hold up your very poofy skirt so you don't trip.

The dance is slow at first, to make sure you don't trip. Once you're both in sync with each other and you're sure you won't trip, Drew speeds up the movements.

"Wow," Drew says. "My toes aren't bruised yet. Looks like those dance lessons 're paying off."

You stare up at Drew, who is standing tall above you at six foot five. "You're so funny, Drew," you say, rolling your eyes. "I almost peed from laughing so hard."

Drew says, "And there's the sarcasm I absolutely just love about ya."

"As if you love anything about me," you mumble to yourself.

The air turns tense and he says, "Ya could only wish that I'd love ya, or anything about this relationship."

Rolling your eyes, you say, "Maybe if you spent time with me, maybe you'd actually start liking things about this relationship. You only married me to become king when your father relinquishes the crown in a few months."

He looks around and says in a hush tone, "Believe it or not, Y/N, but I married ya for several reasons. Yes, I needed t'marry t'become king but I was excited to start a family. Then ya got here and were nothing like I expected. Yeah, I have an attitude with ya but that's because ya have one with me all the time."

Annoyance rises within you and you say, "I gave up my career to come here. I gave up my dreams of wrestling for WWE and winning titles for the company. I'm not happy I'm in this marriage, Drew. I married a stranger and you're still a stranger to me."

Guests start to look at you and Drew so he takes your hand and whisks you off to a more private area in one of the hallways. You trip over your gown as you follow closely behind Drew.

The door closes and now you're alone with Drew. He looks at you and says, "I'm sorry that ya gave up wrestling to come here and marry me, Y/N. I'm not that happy about it either but if I wanted t'succeed my father then I had'ta marry someone, and that someone is ya."

"You could've picked someone in the country, Drew," you say. "Seriously, you had to pick me."

Drew says, "Yer aunt spoke very highly of ya when she would visit my father. When my father told me I needed t'marry, my mind went t'ya. I didn't think about the repercussions ya would face when I told my father I wanted ya t'be my wife."

Sighing, you say, "Wrestling was taken away from me and I moved away to a country to marry a prince. It's been overwhelming for me and you are nowhere to be seen. I've been taking princess lessons for months and I'm still struggling. It doesn't help I'm alone, Drew, in a foreign country. I don't even have wrestling anymore because I 'can't risk getting hurt'. It's not a fairytale ending like in the books."

There's a silence between the two of you before Drew says, "It still can be"

You look at Drew and ask, "What does that mean?"

He meets your eyes and suddenly you feel butterflies. You've never felt butterflies in your stomach since meeting Drew.

"I just thought that maybe before the coronation that maybe we can go t'America and see a few wrestling shows," he says slowly. "I'm a big fan myself."

Everyday in Scotland is a learning experience. You didn't know that he was a wrestling fan.

You say, "I'd, uh, like that."

Drew slowly takes your hand and he says, "I also thought that maybe we can share a room together like a married couple should."

Confused, you say, "It was your idea to have the separate chambers since we 'didn't have to be married within the four walls of the castle'. At least that's what you told me."

He says, "Contrary to popular belief, I actually do like ya, Y/N. Why do ya think my mind went t'ya when asked if there was someone I wanted t'marry? The girls in this country are beautiful, don't get me wrong, but ya. There's just something about ya that peeks my interests."

You stare up at Drew and for a second before you say, "We've been married for months and this is all coming out now."

"We've never had this conversation until now," Drew says, shrugging his shoulders a bit. "By the way, ya do look stunning in that dress. Shows yer personality really well."

You get flustered and say, "You said it was too much."

Drew chuckles and says, "I'm just that good of a liar, I guess."

A little bit of annoyance creeps up and you say, "Stop lying to me, Drew. I'm confused and now I have a headache because of what you're saying to me."

He says, "I know, I'm sorry. I can walk ya to yer room if ya wanna go lay down and get rid of that ache."

You soften up a bit and say, "Yeah." That's all you say. That's all you feel like you can say.

So, Drew walks you to your chambers. You notice that you're still holding his hand when you arrive at the door of your room. He turns toward you and says, "Whenever ya would like t'go see those wrestling shows in America then let me know and we'll go, okay?"

You nod and look up at your husband. "Thank you, Drew," you say. "Offering to go see some wrestling shows in my home country sounds really nice."

Drew says, "It's been a while since I've been to America and I'd like t'see where my wife is from."

My wife. He said you were his wife. That was the first time behind closed doors that he's referred to you as his wife.

There's another silence between the two of you before you say, "I'm, um, going to head inside. Take some medicine and lay down."

"Can I stop by later t'make sure yer okay?" he asks slowly and cautiously.

You consider it for a moment before you say, "Yeah, sure. Just come in if you do because knocking may make my headache worse."

Drew nods and says, "Alright."

You look up at Drew and the air between the two of you thickens a bit. Your heart races in your chest as you wait for Drew to do something.

He pushes a loose curl behind your ear before he kisses your cheek lightly. Your heart almost jumps out of your chest when his lips touch your cheek. You look at him as he pulls away from you slowly.

"Goodnight, in case yer asleep when I come check on ya after the party," Drew says quietly.

You nod and say in almost a whisper, "Goodnight."

He shoots you a smile before walking off to the party again. You stand in the hallway for a second, playing with your engagement ring as you watch him walk off.

For the first time in this marriage, Drew's actions and words made you have butterflies in your stomach and made your heart race.

If you didn't know any better then you might be falling for your husband.

***

The moment between you and Drew has melted away by morning. You walked down to breakfast early the next morning and he doesn't even acknowledge your presence at the table.

"Y/N, are ya feeling okay?" Drew's dad asks. "Ya left with Drew and only Drew came back."

Nodding, you say, "Yeah. I just wasn't feeling well so I went to bed a little early. That's all."

Drew finally glances at you and his dad says, "Feeling better this morning, I hope?"

"Depends," you say, looking at Drew. "Is your eldest son going to keep ignoring me like he is right now?"

His dad looks at him and asks, "Is there something wrong?"

You say, "No, nothing's wrong." You get angry and stand up. "Excuse me but I think I'm going to go back to my chambers. I'm not feeling well again."

After you're done talking, you leave and go back to your room. You've just closed the door when there's a knock.

Reluctantly, you go and answer it. Drew stands in the doorway and you say, "Oh, great. It's you. Come to promise me something else then ignore me again?"

Drew says, "Look, I'm sorry. This whole thing is new to me, Y/N. I'm 35 and I haven't been in a serious relationship like this."

"We're not even in a relationship, Drew," you spit at him. "We're legally bind to each other for you to become king."

He says, "I'm trying here, Y/N!" His voice is rising. "I'm fucking trying. We met, were engaged then married within weeks. I'm trying t'be a good husband in public while also trying t'form a relationship with you behind closed doors. It's not easy. Especially because I do want a relationship with ya, Y/N."

You glare at him and say, "Ignoring me isn't trying, Drew."

He says, "I know, Y/N." He rubs his face. "God, I'm terrible at communicating how I feel and this is whole new territory for me."

Deciding to lighten the air, you say, "If you want to be king then you have to work on communication skills there, Drew."

Drew looks at you and says, "I'm gonna pretend that I didn't just hear ya say that."

You smile and say, "Come on, Drew. Lighten up a bit. Here, tell me the truth. How do you feel when you're around me?"

Your husband blinks at you and thinks for a second. He says, "I, uh, I feel nervous. Ya make me a little nervous, Y/N. My heart races when ya're around me, especially when we touch. Um, when ya walk into a room, I feel a knot in my stomach. I don't know what it's called-"

"Butterflies," you say, helping him out. "They're called butterflies in the stomach. It's what happens when we're around someone who we may or may not like."

Drew looks down at you and says, "Sounds like yer talking from experience."

You nod slightly and say, "I am."

He blinks at you and starts to say something before someone walks into the hallway and say, "I apologize for the interruption, your highnesses. Prince Drew, your father has requested your presence in his chambers. Immediately."

Drew nods and says, "One second." He turns toward you. "When I'm done with my father, I'll come back and we can keep talking. Okay?"

You nod and he smiles before walking off quickly.

That's when you notice when there are butterflies in your stomach again.

***

It's hours later and you're still waiting for Drew. You've asked your maids if they've seen him and they've all said that he's still with his father.

You're watching Freaky Friday on Disney Plus when the doors to your chambers open. A red-faced Drew walks in and you ask, "Woah, Fire Face. What's wrong?"

"My father is what's wrong," Drew says. He's pacing around the room and you pause the movie, getting up and walking to him.

You say, "Talk to me, Drew." He doesn't look at you. "Hey, dumbass. I'm your wife, remember? You're supposed to talk to me about this stuff."

Finally, Drew looks down at you. You're so much shorter than him. You're barely five foot four. You're eye level with his chest and you have to tilt your head up to look at Drew.

He says, "My father just told me that we're going on a two week tour of the country. He wants me t'know the country before I ascend the throne."

"What's the matter with that?" you ask, gently stroking Drew's arm to calm him down.

His eyes are on your hand on his arm as he says, "I wanted t'surprise ya with tickets home t'America for the two weeks that we'll be on tour."

Your eyes widen and you say, "We can go when we get back."

Drew says, "When we got t'America, yer friend was gonna meet us in Florida. I got ya cleared t'wrestle in one match in WWE against your friend. It was more than just going t'see some wrestling shows in America. When we got t' ya're hometown, I was gonna take ya t'yer favorite spot that ya told me about before and I was gonna ask if ya wanted t'try and be a real couple."

Your heart sinks into stomach when you see how upset Drew is about this. You say, "You had all that planned out for me? For us?"

He nods and says, "I wanted ya to feel less alone and I wanted ya t'have at least one more match before ya actually have t'give up wrestling."

You console Drew by hugging him. You close your eyes and you say, "I already feel less alone, Drew."

"What about yer one more match?" he asks.

Looking up at Drew, you say, "I've already come to terms with the fact I'll probably never wrestle again. It would have been amazing to be in a WWE ring but I don't need one more match."

His hands rest on your cheeks before he says, "I'll get ya in a WWE ring at some point, Y/N. Ya gave up yer career t'be here. It's the least I can do."

The idea of talking to Drew's father pops into your mind and you say, "I need to do something really quick. Can you excuse me?"

Drew nods and you let go of each other before you walk off to the king's chambers.

At the door, you knock. A "come in" is said from the other side so you open the large doors.

King Andrew sits at his desk and he looks up at you. "Ah, Y/N," he says, getting up. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Postpone the tour of Scotland," you bluntly say. "Please, sir."

His face hardens a bit as he says, "Drew must've told ya what was happening."

You nod and say, "He did, and he pulled a lot of strings to surprise me back home. Mr. King Sir, he gave me an opportunity to do the thing I love one more time before I give it up to join him by his side as queen of this beautiful country. He wants to take this trip to help us get closer so maybe we could be together behind closed doors as well. Let us take this trip and the day we get back, we can tour this country that I can proudly say I call my second home."

Andrew looks at you as you talk. He leans against his desk and crosses his arms across his chest, looking down at the floor when you're done talking.

You wait for a response.

It's almost an eternity before he says, "I can remember what it was like t'be in love with Drew's mother when we were younger. All the trips we took were always business, never for pleasure. Then she got sick and she died, and I regret that we never got to go on a trip just for pleasure. So, I will postpone the tour so ya and Drew can visit the States, but the day ya get back is the day the tour of Scotland begins."

You smile and say, "Yes, Mr. King Sir. May I go tell Drew the news?"

He nods and dismisses you.

As soon as you're out of the room, you take off back toward your chambers. Drew sits on the small love seat in your room and looks at you when you walk in.

"When do we leave to go to America?"

—

tags: @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan

[bumbershots]

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER THREE: WHO ARE YOU?

Author’s note: Hello! Once more I would like to thank you all for the love this story’s been getting, it truly blows my mind. I am also looking for a beta reader so if anyone out there is interested let me know! (: Let’s pick up right where we left off...

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.3K **

Two souls don't find each other by simple accident, Harry thought after taking a seat for the first time that night, his feet were probably going to be swollen tomorrow, they were killing him already. But he wasn't keen on turning down a dance from the girl collapsing in the settee right next to him. A slow Amy Winehouse song was their cue to rest.

"Do you want a beer?" Her voice sounded a bit hoarse, probably from all the giggling and singing she did while dancing the night away.

"Yes please."

He watched her trot to the small bar on the other side of the flat, focused on how the multiple bracelets bounced in her left wrist as she instructed her brother which beer to give her. As she came back to take her previous seat, he felt a small wave of anxiety for wanting nothing more than to start a conversation with her, as she handed him the beer. Usually it was the other way around, but in most of the cases, people wanted to know his persona.

He knew the silence was becoming awkward, but he was still debating whether to ask about her upbringing or what she did for work, whatever the case was, he didn't want to make a fool out of himself, he almost never seemed to be that lucky.

"You're not used to people being calm around you, are you?" Alma’s frown os curiosity is a mirror to the one on the musician's face.

"Yes and no?" Harry's coy tone makes her smile warmly and shake her head in denial, "so, I'm Hampstead station guy?" Her eyes widen, a shy smile appears on her full lips before she takes another large sip of her drink.

"It's unlikely to find the same person thrice in the tube! I told my friend Laura, it felt like a glitch in the matrix." She answers and he lets out an amused laugh.

"For the record, I wasn't following you, at all..."

"I know, you just had to take the same line I did and it was a happy coincidence," she interrupts him, the new song gathers a few more dancers and Harry wonders if she will ask him to dance again, "although it would've made a great anecdote for my YouTube channel; story time, a famous musician follows me around the city possibly plotting my painful death." She joked as she gingerly flashed her hands before the two of them, as if presenting the latest play from the West End.

It was Harry's eyes turn to be wide and smack his hand into his forehead.

"You have a YouTube channel?" His interest was genuine and Alma made herself more comfortable on the sofa, before proceeding to fill him in about what that was about, just videos about her 'sort of interviewing remarkable people' or so she claimed.

It was something that started as a class project back when she was seventeen, trying to get good grades to win a scholarship and study abroad —none of those things happened. She kept doing it afterwards because it was too much fun, once she interviewed all her friends, she moved onto her family. "Believe me when I tell you, that I have more relatives than I should!" With a smile as big as hers, he sighed before breathing 'lucky' as his heart sped and she continued.

Restaurant owners, chefs, firefighters, barristers, doctors, accountants, waitresses, sexual workers, sex shop employees, bankers, homeless people, hairdressers and apparently every person from her home country had been on the informal interview series. Harry was impressed with the whole concept and her.

"I sort of abandoned it a little when I moved here last year, it was crazy busy the first couple of months and the whole bureaucracy... and I was a little homesick to be honest." For the first time in the night, her voice is thinner, he has to lean in a few inches to hear better, "I miss my parents, my cousins, my aunt, my grandparents. But this is something I've wanted for the longest time you know?" Her eyes bore into his, allowing him to see the vulnerability swimming in them, "I've never felt like an outsider here, never got lost in the tube, took the wrong bus or anything like that. Isn't it weird?" Harry smiled at the sentiment, thoughts of his latest trip to Japan flashing before him.

"No, I think it's marvellous that you feel that way." He cannot be real, is the only thing running through her mind like a restless hamster in its wheel.

Harry and Alma talked about everything they didn’t have in common, despite the brief interruptions to do some shots and drink champagne with the birthday boy. Their families were discussed, their favourite things to do in the summer. Alma even asked him how was work going, as if she didn’t know that he was one of th world’s most successful artists. Harry was thrilled to joke through their drinks and the girl wasn't shy to ask him for a couple more dances. None of them noticed the partying dying around them, it was only after Fernando said his goodbyes to his laughing sister, that they noticed how late/early it actually was.

Before they knew it, golden hues streamed through the window behind them as Freddie walked out of his room and offered them coffee.

"I'm never drinking straight vodka again," Freddie mumbled to himself after finishing his cup of coffee.

"At least it wasn't Vodquila like last time," Alma's words make him groan but agree. "I should go now, need a shower and a healthy breakfast."

After Harry also admitted he needed to be on his way, with all their belongings gathered and after saying goodbye to a very ill Freddie, neither Harry or Alma looked forward to their imminent separation. He had spent hours hearing how busy she is, when not recording content, she was working at Wenzel's and teaching Spanish to her neighbour's daughter on the weekends. Still, he was determined to meet with her again.

As soon as they started moving down the street, Harry noticed the next one was where he had to turn right in order to go home. It wasn't a short walk but the most effective route for sure.

"So, the bus stop is that way," Alma nodded her head to the left, smirking knowingly as she stuffs her hands in her coat pockets.

"Of course," they had come to a rolling stop at the corner. Harry suddenly felt beyond nervous about asking the girl for her phone number. "Thank you, for keeping me company last night." It was amazing he wanted to add, but licked his lips quickly instead.

"You mean keeping you from catching up with all your friends," she corrected him.

Harry shakes his head and smiles, the dimples graciously adorning his cheeks, his racing heart giving him the last push needed to finally ask. "Do you think we could go, like for coffee... sometime?” With that she laughed, immediately memorising the sound of it, her loud cackle is one of the nicest things he has heard in awhile.

"Only if I can buy you something from the selection of pastries." Harry laughed loudly, completely relieved by her answer. She dug around her purse for a moment before taking out a pen and what seemed to be an old receipt, quickly scribbling down her number and handing it to him.

"I'll call you," he beamed, carefully placing the piece of paper in his wallet. He'd be an idiot to lose such a precious fragment of information.

"Looking forward to it," Alma smiled at him for one last time before she started walking to the opposite direction. "See you around Harry." His face was a bit puffy from not having slept properly, but she would be lying to say he didn’t look adorable at the same time.

He waved and watched her walked away, her sweet and tired morning smile seemed to be engraved into the musician's mind as he headed home.

The air was still a bit cold, but the heat was starting to rise and plague London for the rest of the day, the hot summer everyone's been yearning for was finally here, even Harry could feel it in his bones as he continued down his path. He was still highly enamoured by the amazing night he spent sharing a piece of himself with Alma. His feet felt heavy, were even burning a little, but it was nothing as he made his way through his home gate twenty minutes later.

He decided to get some toast and a cuppa for breakfast, his high spirits not faltering even one bit although he could feel the consequences from the all-nighter already with each yawn. After eating he decided to take a shower that got him ready for a well deserved sleep in his comfortable bed.

Waking up around six o'clock startles him at first, Harry is well rested now but a bit grumpy for the weird taste on his tongue, something usual after drinking beer. He scolds himself for not brushing his teeth earlier as he walks in his bathroom. The cool tiles against his bare feet wake him up a bit more. After some needed dental hygiene, Harry gets dressed to go out and pick up his sister for their weekly dinner. Hopefully he can convince her to stay in, that way he can go on and on about the events from the night before.

His feet still hurt, he can even feel a blister underneath his big toe. But it doesn't bother him, it's actually a nice reminder of the incredible things that miraculously happened. Harry knew that since Alma was related to Fernando, someone that was bound to be in his life for the next six months or so, there was a big chance they would've met at some point. But he'd rather think it was fate, some sort of good karma coming round, he stared at her contact on his phone, still charmed by the fact that she gave it to him on the back of a receipt. Ignoring that she only did it that way, because the thought of asking for his mobile to enter it herself, was a very bold move. And Alma wasn’t really that confident, not when his green eyes were boring into hers anyway.

"When are you gonna call her then?" Gemma's voice snaps him out of his daydream for the third time during their quiet dinner in her flat. "What is it? You've got that look."

"What look?" He asks before his sister frowns and pinches her bottom lip with her thumb and index finger. It's his nervous quirk, he sighs, "I don't know, I'm just so nervous." Without a valid reason, he knows the girl is so lovely, maybe that's why.

"You're afraid of fucking it up," she knows, Harry nods. "Well, you could tell her that, perhaps on a text—

"—I want to call her, texting her will make me feel a wanker." Gemma smiles at her little brother, he looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself but nonetheless excited. It was endearing how the first thing he told her after crossing her home's threshold was 'my life is officially a chick flick!' Before proceeding to explain with detail about the whole situation.

"What about a text that reads: hello, this is Harry please save my number so when I find the guts to call you, you don't think it's a telemarketing scam," Gemma might be joking and mocking him all at once, but has a point. A text so she also has his number, makes the situation more even, she can call him too. "Assuming she gave you a real phone number."

"What?" Harry is mortified.

"I'm kidding, you should've seen your face," his sister wanted to drag a bit more her joke, but the preoccupied look on his face stopped her. Gemma couldn't wait to tell their mum, knowing that she would be just as absorbed. "There's nothing wrong with showing interest right away. If you want this to be honest and genuine, set an example." She finished before taking the last bite of pizza.

Harry knew that to be true, but now he was left wondering if it was the right time for him. Had he really left behind all the ghosts and baggage from his past? Or was he still carrying them in the new tattoos of his knees?

Despite his sister's encouraging words about how nothing could go wrong this early with Alma, he couldn't help but wonder if his still grieving heart was ready.

He takes his time walking back home, not caring if it was a really long one, he was aware of the curious eyes once he reached the Southbank but paid no attention to them. He welcomed the chill breeze, hoping for it to cool his boiling mind. Remembering the last time he walked along the river arms around his former flame, her laughter still ringing in his ears, her tender kisses in his knuckles, her delicious scent flying away with the airstream into London's sunshine.

Missing someone is not wrong, Harry reminds himself.

There's no point going down the rabbit hole of what ifs about their relationship. Harry can admit his mistakes, no matter how hard it comes to him, he can also apologise wholeheartedly. He did all those things already, months ago. Which is why he was able to keep her as a friend, not a close one, more like an acquaintance. And she's happy, he can see that, knows it.

Why does he feel like he's still drowning? He's already been pulled from the vast ocean of hers. Harry groans, struggles to open his gate, his good spirits from this morning nowhere to be found.

He doesn't know if it's the memory of her, the fear of loneliness, coincidence and laziness, or a bad habit? But he doesn't text the girl with warm brown eyes, instead he plays the voicemail that sometimes haunts his nightmares, on repeat, for the rest of the night.

///

Let me know if you like the story! *** Join the taglist!

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Next chapter

[ibijau]

Ok, here's a prompt for you, should you choose to accept it, as a fellow angst connoisseur. I've been reading Impenetrable Walls by Gina3 which is a concubine AU, except so far Wei Ying has been too dumb to understand that his job as a concubine is to f*ck, but all the servants around him keep telling him to make sure Lan Wangji is happy or it's all their lives at stake. 1/2

2/2 Anyway, the prompt is this: imagine this scenario but with Xisang or Xiyao. Xichen is the emperor, he has spent his whole life being venerated and served and then he is gifted Huaisang/Meng Yao as a concubine and they both know they have no choice but to make the emperor happy no matter what. Xichen is convinced he's in a happy relationship and unaware that he has in fact been raping his partner this whole time, because there is no possible consent in this situation. The angst! Just imagine

Yes hi hello I, uh. Took this and ran with it, even though I have prompts left from the last ask meme and a bunch of fics that I should be updating and also actual work to do. But like. Fuck yeah. This is exactly the sort of awful, shitty, cruel settings that I love writing so bless you for sending me this.

It was a rare and pleasant day for His Highness when Nie Mingjue could take a break from the war on the frontier and visit the palace. On those too rare occasions, His Highness always allowed himself a break from protocole and tradition and, for a few hours, simply became Lan Xichen again. He had so few friends left since rising to power, but Nie Mingjue had never faltered once, never once treated him as a living divinity as others did, knowing it was not what Lan Xichen wanted from their friendship. It must have been a family trait.

As he walked toward his private quarters, Lan Xichen smiled to himself, certain that his dear little bird must be so happy to see his brother again after many months. Nie Huaisang always smiled so brightly after those rare visits, while teasing Lan Xichen with a renewed insolence that always deligthed him. It would be so nice to have his two closest, most beloved people with him at once, however briefly, and Lan Xichen couldn't wait to surprise them. He shouldn't not have been free for them until a little while longer, but on a whim he had cancelled a council. There was little point in being emperor if he could not get away with something selfish here and there.

As he entered the little house he'd ordered to be built for Nie Huaisang, Lan Xichen heard his little bird chatting with his brother and stopped for a moment, suddenly feeling guilty for taking away the siblings' precious chance for a private discussion. Although Nie Huaisang rarely complained about anything, Lan Xichen knew that his little bird missed home dearly sometimes. No amount of presents and coddling could change that, and while the two of them were so happy together, a lover simply wasn't a brother.

As he hesitated though, Lan Xichen quickly noticed that something appeared to be off with his little bird. His voice, usually so soft and full of laughter, was uncharacteristically dry as he chatted with his brother.

“With Wen Xu dead, that bastard Wen Ruohan won't manage much longer,” he heard his little bird say, the violence of the words half shocking Lan Xichen. “His first born was a good general, whereas the second one... Is Wen Zhuliu still serving them?”

“For now,” Nie Mingjue replied flatly, apparently undisturbed to hear his delicate little brother comment on war affairs. “We're working on turning him. Lord Jiang's wife knew him when he was young, so we're having her make offers to take him in if he switches sides. You were right though, he is stupidly loyal.”

“You probably won't get him,” Nie Huiasang agreed, “but Wen Ruohan will hear about those offers and he won't trust him as much... and that means he'll have to rely on his idiotic second son instead. If Wen Chao is put in charge of their southern army, the war is as good as won for us. Can you imagine? Peace again!”

“But at what cost?”

A silence fell between the brothers. Out of curiosity, Lan Xichen came closer to get a look at them without being seen himself. An emperor ought not to have hidden, least of all inside his own palace, his own home, but something about that conversation was making him increasingly uncomfortable.

When they were alone, Nie Huaisang never wanted to talk about politics, pouting and complaining that he never understood anything of it. To hear him give his opinion about the border wars with such certainty was... unsettling.

And so he looked at his little bird and his dearest friend, sitting together at a table. Nie Mingjue was in a more comfortable position than he usually allowed himself in presence of the emperor, though there was a clear tension to his shoulders. As for Nie Huaisang, although he was wearing the same delicate and colourful robes as always while his hair was done up in an elegant bun decorated with elaborate pins, he seemed like a stranger, sitting not like the poised boy Lan Xichen knew and adored, but instead with no more grace than a soldier resting after a battle.

“Peace always comes at a price,” Nie Huaisang pointed out, rolling his eyes. “This one isn't so bad.”

“Are you going to tell me you're happy with your life?” Nie Mingjue scoffed. “That you're satisfied with being the emperor's whore?”

“Of course not,” Nie Huaisang sighed with a grimace. “Still, to defeat the Wens... it's not such a big price to pay. I don't blame father. He saw his chance to finally make me be useful to the clan, how could he not have taken it?”

A twisted, piercing cold seized Lan Xichen, making it near impossible to breathe. He had wanted to come out of his hiding place and order Nie Mingjue out of their home at hearing him call his own brother a whore, only to feel slapped in the face at his little bird's response.

It made no sense. Nie Huaisang was happy. Of course he was happy. Lan Xichen made sure to give him everything he could ever want, robes of expensive silk, beautiful fans painted by the greatest masters, all his favourite dishes served daily... he had even started construction on an aviary for him, so he could gift him rare and exotic birds. Nie Huaisang was happy. He said so often, made it clear through his actions, always enjoying seducing Lan Xichen as soon as they could be alone.

They were happy and in love.

They had been happy and in love since the first time they had laid eyes on each other at a banquet and Nie Huaisang, not realising who was in front of him, had chatting with him and teased him over wearing badly coordinated robes. By some great luck, Nie Huaisang had been sent to work in the imperial palace soon after and Lan Xichen had not lost a moment in pursuing that chance of friendship. It had soon turned into something more intimate, with Nie Huaisang being officially named his concubine so there could be no accusations of impropriety.

“I'm going to take you back home someday,” Nie Mingjue grunted. “The day father dies, I'll ask to have you back, I swear.”

“Don't be stupid,” Nie Huaisang retorted. “You think His Highness will let me go? I'm stuck here for life, or until someone else finds him a prettier boy to play with. And that's impossible, we both know I am, and by far, the prettiest boy in the entire country. Possibly the world even. Ah, it's a curse to be so beautiful.”

“Huaisang!”

Something shifted in Nie Huaisang's eyes. He slumped on the table, reaching out to take his brother's hand and holding it tight.

“I swear it's not so bad,” he sighed. “He's nice. He's doing his best to be nice. Please don't worry about me, and don't... don't do anything reckless on my behalf. I chose this. I agreed to this. He asked me if I wanted to be his concubine, and I said yes.”

“Could you have said no?”

Instead of answer Nie Huaisang laughed in such a broken way that Lan Xichen felt nauseous. Of course his little bird could have denied that request. Lan Xichen had even told him so when he had asked for this, reminded him that even his friendship was enough to make him happy.

Nie Huaisang could have said no.

Nie Huaisang should have said no.

“Can you imagine what father would have said?” Lan Xichen heard his little bird say in a bitter voice that no longer sounded like his. “MingMing, we needed His Highness's support. We have it. There's nothing more to be said about this, so let's drop that subject. I'm... I'm really not so bad off in here, just a little lonely. I hope when the war is won, you can come more often. You're my only link to the outside world, so do your job. Give me news. How are the Jiang kids? And Wei Wuxian?”

“Lord Jiang gave him a command at last,” Nie Mingjue announced. “And the young Lady Jiang is to be married to young Lord Jin after all. The ceremony will be held in three months.”

Immediately, Nie Huaisang sat up straighter and smiled so brightly that it rivalled the sun.

“Really? Oh, that's so great!” He exclaimed, half laughing. “They'll be perfect for each other, I'm so glad it worked out after all! Tell me what happened?”

Seeing him so happy for the friends he often swore he did not miss was the last drop for Lan Xichen. It was obvious, now, how insincere his little bird's smiles had been when directed at him, how fake his joy, how forced his laughs. And so, while Nie Mingjue told his brother about a happy couple figuring out their path to happiness, Lan Xichen mourned the loss of his own and quietly retreated from this little house where, for the last three years, he had been fed lie after lie.

He had freed his afternoon for the purpose of his two dear friends' company, but it would be easy to find some task or other that needed his attention. An emperor's work was never done. 

And work, once more, was all he had.

[evanbuckley-heartofgold]

Congrats on followers! Totally deserved 😍 This might be a bit of a weird prompt but I had a dream (yes that's how badly I'm missing 911s) that ended abruptly and I'm dying to see how it will end lol. ANYHOW: Owen trying to hide his pain until he can't (*insert something dramatic happening*) and discussion with TK follows. I know I've said this before but I'm so happy I discovered you 😭😭

Thank you so much! I love these prompts you send in! I hope you like it <3

Read on ao3 (1.7k)

Owen groans as he sits up, his whole body feels heavy, like his bones are made of concrete. He wants nothing more than to lay back down and sleep the day away, but he is a fire captain and he has duties. So with another groan, Owen forces himself out of bed. 

The second he’s standing on his feet, he nearly crumbles to the floor. A sharp, shooting pain, ignites through his fingers and toes and his legs shake, seemingly having a hard time supporting his weight. He grunts in pain, not wanting TK to hear him from his room across the hall. 

Owen sits back down on the edge of the bed, taking a slow breath through his nose, before reaching into his bedside drawer and downing some of the pills his doctor said could help with the side effects. He prays that they’ll start working quickly. 

He winces as he rises to his feet once more and starts his day. Everything takes him longer, getting dressed, doing his hair, it all takes nearly double the time it usually does. As it stands, Owen gets downstairs just as TK is shoving the last few things in his bag and yanking on his shoes.

“You ready to go?” TK asks. Owen nods. 

He doesn’t protest as TK takes his work bag as well as his own and heads out to the car. It’s days like today that Owen is glad that his son is a worrywart. TK jumps into the driver’s seat, he hasn’t let Owen drive since he found out, and starts the car. Owen plasters on a smile for his son, hiding the pain boiling under his skin, and shuts the car door. 

TK doesn’t need to know how much pain he’s in, it will only make TK more worried. He wants his son to see him power through and beat this cancer, not collapsing at every step because the chemo is kicking his ass. 

At the station, TK once again takes Owen’s bag and drops it in the locker room before bounding into the kitchen like a puppy. Owen watches him, wishing he had that much energy. As Owen walks into the station, he can’t help but wince at every step. Pain shoots up from his feet into his legs, and he has to keep from visibly showing any pain. TK can’t know. 

“You doing okay, cap?” Marjan asks, looking down at Owen from the top of one of the trucks. 

Owen smiles up at her, “All good, I think I just slept weird last night.”

“Judd made breakfast,” Marjan tells him, “or actually Grace made breakfast and Judd brought it in. You might want to go grab some before Mateo and TK eat all of it.” 

“Will do,” Owen says and walks away from Marjan’s prying eyes. He imagines himself lifting up a facade of himself, smiling and the perfect fire captain for his team. 

In the kitchen, Judd pushes a plate of food towards him and nods for him to sit with the rest of the team, “Thanks, cowboy,” Owen smiles and takes the plate. They eat, quietly chatting about their days, all of them too tired to have a real conversation, and with a twelve-hour shift in front of them, they’re all wanting to conserve energy. 

Unfortunately, just as breakfast finishes, the bell rings, eliciting a groan from everyone. “Up and at ‘em,” Owen encourages as they jog off to the trucks. 

“Three story house fire,” Owen informs the team, looking over his shoulder. “There are at least four people trapped inside, possibly more. Mateo, Paul, and TK, get the water, use the hydrant if you have to. Judd, Marjan, and I will head inside.” Everyone nods. “Listen, the building might be unstable so the second I call for an evac, you do it, got it?” He asks the question directly at Marjan who rolls her eyes but nods. 

Everyone jumps out of the truck when they get there, but Owen is forced to take it a little slower. Pain shoots through his fingers again as he pulls on his mask, but he shoves it down. There are people to save. 

He nods at Judd and Marjan and leads them into the building. 

Owen works on instinct as he searches the house with his team, pulling people out, getting them out of the smoke, and clearing rooms and floors. Finally, Judd radios that he and Marjan are helping the last victim out. 

“I’ll follow you guys out,” Owen tells them. He’s on the second floor now and the smoke is getting thick. But Owen picks up his feet and steps down the stairs. But with every step, the pain grows worse and worse in his feet. His legs shake, growing weaker and weaker from exertion. 

His heavy gear weighs him down even more, but by some miracle, Owen makes it to the ground floor. But the exits feel miles away. 

“Cap, you out yet?” Paul asks through the radio. 

Owen stumbles, catching himself against the wall, but then his legs fully give out, sending him collapsing to the floor. He tries to move his arm, but the pain only grows worse and worse with every movement. 

“Captain Strand, please respond.” It’s Judd now, his voice wavering. “Are you out of the building?” 

Owen blinks slowly, his body feels too heavy. He can’t do this. 

“Dad! Dad, please,” Owen can hear TK’s panicked voice in his radio and he struggles to his feet. His son needs him, he can’t abandon him. TK needs him to live. 

Owen finds strength deep inside of himself and forces himself to his feet. The image of TK is so present in his mind. Owen manages to take a few steps, leaning against the wall but he can’t move after that. The pain is too great. 

“TK…” Owen breathes softly. He wants to reach up and turn on his radio, he wants to tell TK how much he loves him. His son’s voice comes over the radio again, begging him to answer. Owen can’t find the strength to reach up to his mic. 

When TK was a baby, he used to stare up at Owen with such wide-eyed fascination and trust. He looked at his dad like he hung the stars in the sky. And at that young age, he probably did. Owen loves his son more than anything in the world, he has to fight to get back to him. 

Then out of the smoke in front of him, a tall figure emerges. They grab Owen around the waist and start running out of the building, hauling him along. Once they’re outside, Owen collapses to his knees as the paramedics surround him. As he is laid onto his back, he can see his son’s watery green eyes looking down at him with incredible pain. 

“I’m sorry,” Owen breathes. The last thing he sees before he passes out is TK covers his mouth as he sobs. 

...

Owen wakes up slowly. 

He feels someone holding his hand and around him he can hear the hum of voices, though he can’t make out what they’re saying. His body feels heavy, like he’s going to sink right through the bed. It’s nice, he decides, a break from the immense pain he has been in for days on end. But as much as he struggles to stay awake, he falls right back into the darkness.

When Owen wakes up again, he can hear voices this time. 

Judd sighs, “I know you’re worried, but your dad would want you to take care of yourself. Why don’t you come home with me and get some real food instead of this nasty hospital stuff. You can sleep in a real bed.”

“I can’t,” TK’s voice is so shaky it worries Owen. “I can’t leave him.”

“He would want you too,” Judd says wisely. “Come on.” Owen silently pleads with his son to go home with Judd. There is no one he trusts more to take care of his son than Judd. 

“Fine.” 

Owen lets out a breath of relief as TK’s chair scrapes back. Judd quietly mummers something to TK, too soft for Owen to hear and their footsteps walk out of the room. Owen allows himself to sink back down into sleep with the knowledge that someone is taking care of his son when he can’t.

The third time Owen wakes up, he actually opens his eyes. “Dad?” Owen blinks and finds TK looking down at him, eyes red. “Dad!” TK exclaims. Before he knows it, Owen has an armful of TK. Owen wraps his arms around his son as TK buries his head against his shoulder. 

“I’m okay,” Owen murmurs, kissing the top of TK’s head. He doesn’t know if it’s true, but if it will help TK calm down then it doesn’t matter. “I’m okay, TK.” 

“No you’re not,” TK says, his voice muffled against Owen. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were in pain?” TK demands, sitting up. “I could have helped you and this wouldn’t have happened.” TK yanks on his hair, “Side effects of chemotherapy are weakness, nausea, lack of concentration… Why didn’t I notice?”

“Hey,” Owen takes TK’s hands out of his hair to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. “This is not your fault TK.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” TK looks at his dad with watery eyes. 

Owen smiles sadly and touches TK’s cheek, “I didn’t want you to worry any more than you already were. I wanted to push through and be strong for you.”

“I don’t need you to be strong,” TK shakes his head. “I need you to be alive.”

“TK…”

“No,” TK snaps. “You could have died. Do you realize that? I-I’m not ready to lose you.” 

Owen’s heart breaks in two. “Okay, come here,” Owen opens his arms and lefts TK fall back into them. Owen runs a hand up and down TK’s back, “I’m sorry, kid. You’re right, I should have told you.”

“I thought we promised that we wouldn’t keep things from each other.” 

“I know,” Owen sighs and runs a hand through TK’s hair, “I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was as bad as it was. I thought I could push through. Listen to me, I promise that from now on I will tell you everything that’s going on with my chemo. But,” TK looks up at his dad, “you have to promise me to be honest when you’re scared, okay? I’m not the only one this cancer is affecting.” 

TK looks unhappy at the deal, but says, “Okay. I love you, dad.” 

Owen smiles and kisses the top of his son’s head again, “I love you too.”

[chlodani]

This is my next smau. It's a Harry Potter smau. Neville X F.!Reader pairing. There's a bit of Fred X F.!Reader pairing in here. There's also Neville X Fred X F.!Reader. Title:A Muggle's Love Story

Trigger warning: Slight swearing! Mentions of sex! Will be mentions of rape! Slight abuse! If you are sensitive to these things read at your own risk! Major Fred X F.!Reader fluff!

Y/n was a muggle brought into the world of magic, at a very young age. She didn't know how to handle it. And with her older sister, her guardian being the only one who could take care of her, it proved to be difficult for her with her sister being the Defense Against The Dark Arts professor, and her having to live in the world of magic. She feels a little left out, seeing as both her sisters, her older and her younger, - her twin - are wizards and she is not. But that all disappears when she meets the one person who helped her realize not everything is about that. And it's not all its cracked up to be. Neville was there for her since she was young and they became the best of friends. However, as they got older they realized their feelings were more for each other than they even orginally thought. But what happens when Neville finally has the courage and another man tries to swoop in and take him from her?

Special Edition Part 4. . .

Y/n's P.O.V.

A devious smile passed me as a thought came to my head. I quickly took Fred's phone from him, hiding it underneath my leg. Fred smiled as he looked at me. My stomach jumped as he rested his arm on my stomach. I couldn't stop smiling as I looked at him.

"You think I can't get that?" Fred challenged.

"I didnt think you'd wanna touch my ass, just to get it," I told him not being able to stop smiling.

He chuckled.

"Try me sweetheart,"

I chuckled softly as I held his hand, locking our fingers.

"You weren't paying enough attention to me,"

All he did was smile.

"You want me to pay attention to you?"

"Yes,"

Fred chuckled. He pulled me closer to him, starting to tickle me. That's one of the things I hate the most, but I couldn't help but to laugh. I tried to scramble away from him, but he wouldn't let me. It got so bad, I ended up on his lap completely. He had one of his hands on my back and the other arm over my legs. We were just staring into each others eyes. I never noticed how gorgeous his eyes were until now. They may be brown, but he's gorgeous. How and why do I have to love him as much as I love Neville? Without knowing what we were doing at the moment, Fred had his hand on the side of my neck and our lips were pressed together. Immediately we both started to move them along the others in sync. He held me tighter as he pressed his lips to mine even harder, kissing me even more passionately. A soft gentle moan left me as we kissed. The only thought that went through my head at this moment was that I wanted him. All I wanted was him. Just as I put my hands on the sides of his neck, he gently pulled away. Way to make it awkward.

"So, uh, where's your bottle of Fire Whiskey?" I asked him casually looking away from him.

I could feel his boner as I sat on him. If I'm being honest, it actually turned me on.

"I have a bottle in the kitchen cupboard, right above the sink," Fred answered almost in an awkward way.

I stood from his lap, walking over to the kitchen. I couldn't stop thinking of our kiss as I took the bottle and poured us some in a couple of wine glasses.

"So, are you sure you're okay hon?" Fred asked me curiously concerned.

As I walked back to the couch I responded:

"Yes, - I just - I'm not so sure I can face Neville if there really is another girl that he likes."

I sat down on the couch next to him, as I handed him a glass.

"Well, like I said, that would be his loss for letting go of someone so precious and valuable. And for hurting you I'll kick his ass,"

A soft smile passed me. I gently took hold of Fred's hand.

"Na, dont do that - I just need you there for me,"

Fred locked our fingers together.

"I always will be,"

"I know, -"

I took a sip from my glass.

"I remember when Neville and I met, - We were eleven, and he was the first person I noticed-"

7 Years Earlier. . .

I stood next to this really cute kid. He had dark brown hair, and light hazel eyes. He had cute chubby cheeks. And he was adorable and chubby. I could tell he was nervous as he looked at me. Which made him even more adorable. I gestured to the empty gap between him and another student.

"Is this seat taken?" I asked him politely.

He said nothing as he gestured next to him. I smiled as I sat down next to him. I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

"I'm Y/n Moon," I said to him as I held my hand out to him.

He was nervous as he held my hand to shake it.

"I'm N-Neville L-Longbottom," he spoke nervously.

I chuckled at how cute he is.

"Awe, you're shy, that's so cute! - We can be friends if you want,"

He smiled at me as he nodded. Awe! He is so cute.

Present Day. . .

As I traced my thumb over the design on the glass in my hand, a tear slipped from my eye. Fred gently put his fingers underneath my chin, turning my face to him. He cupped my face with his hand, as he used his thumb to wipe away the tears.

"Forget about that dumbass, - If he doesnt want you, that's on him. There is nothing wrong with you sweetheart," Fred said to me trying to be encouraging.

I said nothing as he looked directly into my eyes. I wanted to kiss him again so bad. And he knew it. He moved his hand away. Shivers ran through me as he let his hand rest on my leg, a little closer to thigh. I couldn't help but to stare at his long slender fingers, and wonder how good he really was with his fingers and hands. I let myself think about his hands roaming all over my body. I found myself lightly biting my lip. I didn't even realize that Fred was staring at me until he moved his hand. I honestly felt so embarrassed.

"Do you remember how we met?" Fred asked me.

I softly laughed. I took another sip from my glass.

"How could I not? You were so damn confident, I couldn't help but to be attracted to you," I said to him.

He chuckled.

"I think Neville was pretty pissed though," he stated.

I laughed softly.

7 Years Earlier. . .

I smiled as this really cute, red haired, brown eyed guy sat next to me. I couldn't help but to look at him. He was smiling as he stared into my eyes.

"Hey cutie, I'm Fred Weasley, what's your name?" Fred asked confidently.

"I'm Y/n Moon," I replied not being able to stop smiling.

"So, are you gonna need someone to show you around? Get used to the school?" He asked me in a hopeful tone.

"Well, -"

I pointed to Neville.

"Neville said he was gonna show me around, at least what he's already been shown,"

I could see the disappointment cross his eyes.

"Oh, -"

He stood from the bench.

"Well, I hope you enjoy yourself,"

I actually didnt want him to leave. I quickly and boldly grabbed onto his arm. A surprised look crossed him as he turned to look at me.

"Would you like to come with us?"

He didnt know what to say for a moment. He smiled as he sat back down.

"I'd love to,"

I smiled as the three of us started talking.

Present Day. . .

Fred and I both chuckled.

"You're boldness really surprised me, and you had me hooked from that moment," Fred said to me.

"You had me hooked from the moment you sat down next to me," I said to him trying to one up him.

He put his hand on my leg once again. I felt my stomach slightly jump. I still want him. I took a nice big drink of my Fire whiskey.

"So, how does your heritage work anyway? I've always been curious and you've never really explained it?" Fred asked me curiously.

"Well, Adelina is my half sister, Luna and Jami are my real sisters. I mean obviously Jami's my sister, we're twins. But our fathers were different. Adelina's father was a wizard, just like our mother. Mother ended up falling in love with a muggle and she got pregnant from him. She got pregnant with twins, and Jami inherited from mother's side and they think I got being a muggle from my father,"

I sighed. He knew I thought I wasn't good enough for either him or Neville because I was a muggle. While him and Neville are both pure bloods. Fred softly took my hand, looking into my eyes. He moved closer to me. He took my hand to his lips, kissing my fingers softly.

"I dont care that you're a muggle - You are the most amazing person I know. - You're unique in your own way. - Every single day I fall in love with you all over again. Every single time I look at you. - Every single time I'm with you - Honestly if I could have anyone, I would want it to be you,"

I could feel a blush rising to my cheeks. I slightly looked away from him.

"Oh Fred - Stop -" I trailed off.

He smiled satisfied.

"Why? - "

Fred moved closer. So close I could feel his chest rest against my arm. I could feel my body shivering. I still want him. And it's taking all my strength not to tell him right here, right now that I want him and that I want him now. He moved his face closer to my ear, slightly breathing on the edge of it.

"Afraid you'll fall in love with me even more?" He asked in a soft whisper.

I let out a soft breath not being able to help myself. Fred gently turned my face to him. He had the softest look in his eyes. I knew he wanted to kiss me again, but he was hesitant. It was almost as if he was begging me without words. I could feel the fire whiskey working within me and I honestly loved it. I wasn't thinking so much of Neville. It was just Fred. I couldn't help myself, so I smashed my lips onto his and I kissed him passionately. I knew he loved it, but he was being as cautious as he possibly could be. I knew he was. I wanted him close to me. And he knew I did. I didn't even have to say it. He pulled away again. I protested quietly.

"Y/n, why don't we just talk?" Fred suggested.

I sighed. Though he still held onto my hand. I took another sip from my glass.

"How did you meet Hannah again?" Fred asked me casually.

"It was at Hogwarts, Adelina wanted me to tag along with her class, so I went. And I was happy because I got to be with Neville, -"

"Or as I say, 'He who shall not be named'" Fred spoke.

I chuckled as I gently punched his arm.

"He was fine at the time, - Anyway, Adelina was talking with Hagrid at the time and Draco had decided he wanted to be a dick to me, -"

A smile passed me as I thought of Neville.

"It was actually quite adorable, Neville tried to stick up for me, but he was also still really shy, so when Draco shot him down he shut up real quickly. Hannah noticed how Draco was being to me and she stepped in. She stood up for me and she apologized for him. Apparently she's known Draco pretty much all her life and she hates the fact that Draco can be such an ass sometimes. Though he's settled down quite a bit as he's gotten older, so, I guess it's not that big of a deal. That day that Hannah stood up for me, we became instant friends and she started hanging with me and Neville. That's the day you met her,"

"Well, you guys are pretty close,"

"Yeah, -"

I smiled.

"Hannah's great, - And she's always there when I need her. Just like Jami, Luna, and Adelina. My three sisters,"

Fred moved a piece of hair from my face, again looking into my eyes.

"Dont forget about me," he said to me softly.

He took the drink in my hand and set it on the coffee table in front of us. All I could do was look at him, as he rested his hand on the side of my face. I held onto his hand with him, as I lightly moved my lips to kiss the palm of his hand.

"I could never - I honestly wouldn't know what to do without you," I told him.

"You'll never have to find out,"

He looked into my eyes just staring into them. I knew what he wanted and he knew what I wanted. Though he was still hesitant.

"I wanna kiss you so bad," Fred said to me softly.

"Fred -"

I put my hand on the side of his neck.

"Please do," I pleaded.

"But -"

I could almost feel tears in my eyes.

"Fred, - Please,"

He sighed softly in defeat. In a gentle motion he pressed our lips together and very lightly started to kiss me. He added the passion, only slightly. I knew he was hesitant. I didn't want him to be, but I knew he was. And I didnt think there was anything I could do to change that.

To Be Continued. . .

Special Edition Part 5 Coming Soon. . .

Taglist:

@cece-lives-here

@saur20

[z-iridest]

(A/N: Okay, guys, I hope you enjoy a little Denki Kaminari fluff ^.^ A big thank you to @lxvely-mha for helping me with the idea, if you haven't checked out their blog, YOU HAVE NOT LIVED! Lxvly, this is for you, and I hope you don't mind if I drew from your headcannons for Denki Kaminari as a boyfriend)

Hungry Eyes: A Denki Kaminari x Shy & Clumsy Female! Reader One Shot

It all started with a dance....

As the daughter of a pro hero, I had to be ready for anything. A villain attack, random people wanting an autograph from my Dad, and my Dad's infamous loud as hell outbursts to name a few. Considering that the Pro Hero I'm talking about is Present Mic, it's actually kind of ironic that his daughter is a silent, shy klutz that has a similar quirk to his. Mine is literally a sonic scream.....

My clumsiness is going to be my death one day. It's why I've never danced at any school dances, preferring to be either sitting on the sidelines, or next to the DJ booth (sometimes in it if my Dad was the DJ). I'd already embarrassed myself several times tripping over anything and everything, no reason to do it with an audience. To be fair, my Dad did try teaching me how to dance..... Hours of sore feet on my Dad's end later and me falling on my rear way too many times, we were both ready to call it quits. Speaking of my Dad....

There's only a handful of people I've ever talked outloud to: My Dad, My Mom, and my Uncle: Shota Aizawa (yeah, Aizawa is my godfather, get over it). Everyone else, I talk to using JSL or writing down what I want to say. I only talk to people I'm not comfortable around when it's an absolute necessity. Why? Allow me to take you back a few months ago....

See, when I first started at U.A., I started dating this guy... You actually know him. Remember Monoma from Class 1-B? Yeah....

Well, everything was going great with him... Until I caught him making out with a different girl. He had the audacity to tell me it was my own fault for not measuring up to his "perfect standards" and told me I'd never be good enough to live up to my Dad's rep as a Pro Hero, that I was a waste of space. I kinda just shut down after that, refusing to talk to my Dad or Uncle Shota for a while, especially since Monoma spread a rumor around school that I was quirkless. That got me bullied a bit until Dad got wind of it.....

Boy, was he mad....

But don't worry! Everything's fine now. The rumors died down about a month ago, though I think that was mainly due to me joining the BakuSquad.... For those who don't know, the BakuSquad is a group of a bunch of loveable goofballs and their explosive pomeranian of a leader: Katsuki Bakugo. Mina was the one who brought me into the group, and thank god, they never pushed me to talk. I mainly just listened to their antics and tried to hold back fits of laughter. It almost felt normal...

Almost....

Since we broke up, Monoma has a bad habit of cornering me at my locker after school to try to get me to go back to dating him. I always tell him no, and he pushes me around until either Kirishima, Bakugo, Sero or Kaminari come looking for me. I think deep down, he's scared half to hell of Kaminari, because the one time Monoma didn't stop when Kaminari told him to... Oh boy, Pikachu Boy went all out on Monoma, shocking him until he made a run for it. It was actually really funny to watch, I won't lie.....

Back to what I was saying: As the kid of a pro hero, you have to be ready for anything. But, that's where fate'll get you good...

When you least expect it, fate can just (excuse my french) bitch slap you out of nowhere. For example.....

"You did what?!" The only reason I was talking to Mina and Jiro at that second was out of shock. We were in my dorm room, so there was no one around to hear me talk anyways outside of Mina and Jirou.

"Mina decided to nominate you and Kaminari for the couple to do the first dance at the Mid-Summer Dance this year for the first years, and you guys won the school's vote." Jirou told me. I let out a humiliated whine and plopped facedown onto my pillow. The Mid Summer Dance was a school wide dance party to have fun in the final days of summer. One couple from each year did the first, second and third slow dances, the first years being the ones to kick off the actual dance. I felt a hand on my back.

"Aww, come on, Y/N, it's not that bad." Mina's voice told me. I sat up faster than Iida can run, and looked at her with a look that told her I thought she was crazy.

"Are you forgetting who you're talking to? The resident klutz of U.A. High, that's who! I'm gonna die, that's it! Game over, no pro hero career for me! Y/N Yamada, dead at 16! Cause of death: Embarrassing tumble in front of the whole school! I'll be lucky if the dress I wear that night doesn't rip or something on the way there." I burried my face in my pillow again. "Besides, I don't know how to dance. I've always avoided the dancefloor at parties or anything like that."

"Why don't you just ask Kaminari to teach you how to dance?" Jirou asked.

"I've never talked in front of him, remember? And I can't ask him, it'd be too embarrassing." I reminded Jirou.

"Fine, if you won't ask Kaminari to teach you how to dance, I'll ask him for you." Mina's words pierced me with more horror than any thriller movie. Believe me, that's saying something because I hate horror movies.

"No, no, no, no, no!" I shouted, jumping up, but Mina was already out of my room, calling for Kaminari. I raced out of my room after her, but by the time I caught up, she was already telling Kaminari. Crap....The second Kaminari locked eyes with me, I bolted back into my room and hid in the closet. Damn it, Mina! I felt heat rise to my face. Great, now I'm blushing.... Just a few minutes later, I heard footsteps. They stopped before I heard voices.

"Jirou, have you seen Y/N?" Kaminari's voice.

"She's hiding in there." Traitor. I heard footsteps walk away. Okay, maybe Kaminari walked away. Maybe he...

"Y/N?" Damn it, he didn't walk away. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't dance?" I slowly came out of the closet and signed my answer in JSL.

I thought it was obvious. I'm the resident klutz of U.A., so....

"You're scared of falling in front of everyone? You always seem so fearless." Kaminari told me, sitting on my bed. I gave him a You've gotta be kidding me look as I sat down next to him. "I'm serious!"

Looks can be deceiving. I'm scared of everything. I put on a facade during training to make it look like I'm not scared when I actually am.

"You're still such a badass... Anyway, back to the dance. What were you gonna do when the night of the dance came and you still didn't know how to dance?" Kaminari asked me. I shrugged.

I would have figured out something.

"Like what, bailing on the dance all together?" Kaminari asked, raising an eyebrow. I opened my mouth, but quickly closed it. That had been the last resort. "That's what I thought." He stood up and offered his hand to me. "Come on, the dance is a couple weeks away, but we'd better start now if you're gonna be ready." With no other choice, I placed my hand in Kaminari's, a sudden spark flowing from me to him.

And it wasn't from his quirk.

I didn't have time to ponder what the spark even was, because Kaminari pulled me up off my bed and started pulling me to the gym where the dance would be held. I had just enough time to notice how perfectly my hand seemed to fit in his. What's wrong with me?

It was then that the real work began. While keeping up with studying and homework from all my classes (which I had to help Kaminari with most of), and planning the dance with the Dance Committee, I was taking dance lessons with Kaminari. Surprisingly, no matter how much I stepped on his toes, he stayed patient and helped me through it. Everytime I tripped and started falling, he caught me easily. "Now that the worst's happened, you don't have to be scared. I've got you." Kaminari had told me with a wink the first time I had tripped and he had caught me. I have no idea why, but I started blushing like an idiot around him, and kept tripping outside of our dance lessons, worse than my normal clumsiness. If this is what having a crush was, I was falling hard for the human Pikachu.... Literally.

Before I knew it, it was the day before the dance. Kaminari and I danced alone in the gym, and much to my own surprise, I didn't trip. Not once. Kaminari was grinning wider than a Cheshire cat when we finally finished.

"Yes! I knew you could do it, that was awesome!" Kaminari exclaimed with the biggest smile on his face as he pumped both fists in the air. I covered my mouth to keep a laugh in, but it slipped out in a giggle. When I looked up, Denki was looking at me with the most adorable look ever. His head was tilted to one side slightly, and his eyes held this just... Adoring look. "Y'know... Your laugh is adorable." I felt the heat rise to my face as I looked away from him. "I mean it." He made me look at him, giving me a sweet smile. He was so close, one single move from either of us, and we'd be kissing. He cleared his throat after a good long minute, giving me a sheepish smile. "Want to run through it one more time?" He asked me. I nodded and we danced again. I couldn't stop the smile on my face as I danced, feeling happy for the first time in a long time. I noticed that the more I smiled, the more Denki smiled. As we finished the routine perfectly for the second time that day, I felt Denki interlace his fingers with mine, the look on his face serious. He raised one hand, gently cupping the side of my face. My heart started pounding fiercely against my chest. What was going to happen next? "Y/N.... I want to ask you something...." He told me, his eyes and his voice soft. Just as he opened his mouth to continue, my phone rang. I groaned.

"Sorry, I gotta take this." I shrugged before answering my phone.

"Y/N, where are you? We have to do the final preparations for the party!" Mina's voice shrilled at the other end. Iida must have been right there, otherwise she wouldn't have called me about something like this.

"Do I really have to be there?" I asked.

"No, I just need you to answer a couple things over the phone." Mina told me.

"Go for it." I told her, giving Kaminari an apologetic look. He gave me a thumbs up as if silently telling me it was fine. I leaned against the wall behind me as I listened to Mina's questions, answering each one. Everytime I talked, I noticed Denki having that same adoring look on his face. Just as I shifted against the wall a bit, I saw Kaminari start to walk over to me.

"Y/N?" Kaminari called my name, and I noticed he had a determined look on his face."I was wondering... Do you want to go to the dance with me?" I put the phone down for a second, feeling a little confused.

"Yeah, I mean, the BakuSquad's all going together, right? I think Bakugo has us leaving the dorms around 7 or something..." I told him. I heard Mina call my name and put the phone back to my ear. Jeeze, how many more questions did this girl have?

"No, I mean, with me." Denki told me. What was he getting at?

"Yeah, I can swing by your dorm around 6:30." I told him. He did mean arrive there as a group with the squad.... Didn't he? Mina asked me another question before I could think about what he meant. "Yeah, when you're facing the stage it has to go on the left... Right." I shook my head as Mina sounded confused. "No, the left, not the right." I heard Denki mumble something under his breath, something along the lines of,

"Oh man, this is gonna be hard." I suddenly felt his hand on mine as he placed his other arm on the wall next to me. Is he... Doing the kabedon on me? I felt my cheeks turn bright red, as he was really, really close to me now. I was forced to look into his gold eyes, which held a very serious look. "Y/N..." He moved my phone fully from my ear, keeping my closed hand in his. I swear, Mina was intently listening in, because I could hear her suddenly go silent on the other line. "Would you.... Be my date for the Mid-Summer Dance?" A smile crept onto my face, which caused him to chuckle a bit. "And... If you don't absolutely hate me by the end of it... Would you... consider... Maybe, being more than friends?" I smiled up at him brighter. I was getting asked out by my crush! "Maybe?"

"Like... Boyfriend and girlfriend where we can... Hold hands instead of just fist bumping and slugging each other all the time, and... We can text, and I can tell you how great you are, because, Kaminari, you really are great, and I'm the luckiest girl in the world, you're so sweet and adorable, and..." I suddenly felt something warm and soft against my lips, effectively cutting me off. Despite the dark blush on my face, I melted into Denki's kiss. When we finally pulled away, he grinned down at me.

"First of all, you call me Denki. And second, if anyone's the lucky one, it's me, sweetheart." I closed my eyes and blushed darker, if it was humanly possible, as he softly kissed my forehead. I giggled and hugged him, feeling him hug me back. "Well then, milady, until tomorrow night." He grinned goofily as he held my hand in his, bowing and pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand. With a wink and the most adorable smile, he was gone.

When I got back to the dorms, I was greeted by all the girls, each one having the stupidest smile on their faces as they all sat in the common room. I blushed under their stares and said only two words, knowing Mina had heard what had happened after dance practice and had told all the girls. "Shut up." I told them, causing all of them to burst into a giggle fit.

Right after school the next day, the girls of 1-A practically dragged me to my room to get me ready for the dance. Mina, Momo and Ochaco teamed up on picking the dress while Toru and Jirou teamed up on curing my hair. Once my hair was finished being curled and fully hair sprayed, Toru pinned one side of my hair out of my face with bobby pins before Mina, Asui and Ochaco carefully helped me into the dress they chose: an adorable white, off the shoulder sundress that fell to my knees in length. While Ochaco grabbed a pair of white heels for me to wear, Mina did my makeup for me. I put my heels on myself once Mina was done and grabbed my purse, blushing when I saw that all the girls were admiring their work. "Twirl, Y/N! Twirl for us!" Toru cheered at me. I blushed and twirled. The dress spun before falling back into place, the girls awwing before I spoke up, looking at the time.

"Uh, guys? It's 6:45." My words forced them into action, a unanimous:

"Oh, crap!" Leaving each of the girls as they scampered off to go get ready, realizing they had very little time left to ready themselves because of fawning over every little detail when it came to me. I giggled and looked at my reflection. I didn't look completely like myself, but for the first time in a long time... I felt... Beautiful.

At 7, I left the comfortable confines of my room to join everyone else in the common room. I felt my face turn dark red as the chatter from the boys suddenly stopped, all attention on me.

"Damn, Yamada, you look great." Kirishima spoke up first, a grin on his face.

"Great? Try goregous!" Sero spoke up. All the boys except for Bakugo, Midoriya, Todoroki and Kamin... I mean Denki, started arguing about what word was best to describe me. I snuck a look at Denki. That teasing bastard was wearing black dress pants with really nice black shoes and a tucked in, white button up shirt with the top two buttons undone. He just had to dress like that for tonight... I exchanged glances with Denki, and I swear, there was a shit-eating grin on Kaminari's face as he wrapped his arms around me.

"Man, if I'd known you'd get all cleaned up this good for me, I would have asked you out weeks ago." Denki told me as he looked down at me.

"Blame the girls, they wouldn't let me out of my room until I accepted their wish to do a full on makeover." I blushed darker. "You cleaned up really nice too, by the way." He grinned down at me before pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"Only for my baby... Besides, girls should know you didn't need to put on makeup and style your hair just to impress me, princess. You're beautiful to me no matter what you look like." He whispered in my ear before softly kissing the tip of my nose. I hid my dark red face in his chest as Kaminari spoke up over the guys, cutting off their arguement. "It's all very flattering, but the best word to describe her is simple: Angelic." I could practically feel the cheesy smile he was shooting at me in that second. I looked up at him and opened my mouth to respond, but the girls had joined us just then.

When we got there, Dad was blasting music left and right, doing his DJ thing as always. I laughed a bit as I saw him living up. I had to admit, the decoration committee did an awesome job at turning the big old gym into a dancefloor. I felt Kaminari kiss my cheek and I turned toward him. "Go ahead and say hi to your Dad, I'll grab us some punch." He told me. I smiled and nodded before pulling him down into a quick kiss... Which he turned into 3 sweet little pecks. I giggled and he winked before leaving my side. As I made my way toward the DJ booth, Jirou caught me.

"Y'know, we all knew he had a crush on you. As soon as you guys started doing dance lessons, he suddenly stopped flirting with all the girls and started keeping Mineta in line." She told me.

"Seriously?" I asked. She nodded.

"Yeah, Mina and I knew it was a matter of time before he asked you out. We just weren't expecting it to happen yesterday." She told me. I smiled. "I really am happy for you guys. You especially look extremely happy."

"I haven't smiled like this in a long time, Jirou." I told her honestly. She smiled and we exchanged a hug before I continued walking toward my Dad. He grinned when he saw me and exited the DJ booth for a second to give me a hug.

"You look beautiful, baby bird." Dad told me, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. I smiled up at him.

"Thanks, Dad." I told him.

"You nervous for the dance?"

"A little. But, I've been practicing for the past two weeks, so I think I'll be okay."

"Who is your partner anyway? Everytime I was about to find out, I got pulled away."

"You'll see, Dad." I winked at him before leaving to rejoin Denki. Instead, I ran into the only person who could ruin the night for me.....

"Wow, Y/N, you never dressed like this for me." Monoma crooned at me.

"I never felt comfortable until now, please excuse me." I said as I started to walk away. My heart came to a slamming hault in my chest as Monoma grabbed my wrist, stopping me from going anywhere. "M-Monoma, let me go!" I told him, feeling a panic attack coming on. My anxiety was shooting through the roof....

"You're not going anywhere with him." Monoma hissed at me. "You're mine."

"Not anymore." I yanked my wrist out of his grip, gingerly holding it. "Denki cares about me way more than you ever could care. You don't care about anyone but yourself, and I'd take back dating you if I could." I told him, trying to calm myself down. He growled, roughly grabbing my arm and pushing me into a corner. My breathing got so short, I couldn't breathe.

"Wrong move." He snarled at me. Right before he could touch me, he yelped, a spark of electricity zapping through him. Behind him was Denki, his quirk crackling in his right hand, and boy did he looked pissed.

"Denki." A breath of relief left me as I scampered behind him, feeling his right hand hold mine as Monoma growled angrily, getting back up.

"Nobody puts my baby in a corner." Denki snarled, aiming a bolt of his quirk at the ground near Monoma's feet. That blue eyed, selfish blond screamed like a girl and ran for it, his classmates laughing at him while Kendo scolded him. As soon as Monoma was gone, Denki deactivated his quirk, turned around and wrapped his arms around me protectively. "You okay, babe?" He asked. I nodded.

"I am now." I told him before kissing his cheek. "Thanks for saving me." He grinned down at me and winked just as my Dad announced that it was time to dance. He let go of me and offered his arm.

"Shall we, milady?" He asked. I giggled and took his arm.

"Do you even have to ask?" I questioned in counter. He chuckled before leading me to the dancefloor. Once of the floor, we took our starting positions before the beat of the song started. (A/N: Start listening to Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen for this part ^.^).

As soon as the beat started, we started to move, our eyes never leaving each other. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see all of Class 1-A gathered around us, watching us as we danced. "Everyone's watching us." I whispered to him.

"They don't matter right now. It's just you and me right now, baby." He whispered back with a grin. I giggled as I had fun, dancing with him. I knew, without a doubt, that my Dad was watching us, and I mentally cringed. Denki wasn't exactly popular with the teachers in a good way..... My thoughts distracted me enough to make me trip over my own feet after the second verse. Thank God for Denki, because he caught me and made it look like he was dipping me, which caused our classmates to cheer. He winked. "Told you I'd catch you." He softly told me. I smiled and we continued to dance, Denki spinning me at certain points and the next dip he did being during the instrumental after the bridge after twirling me again.

We continued dancing until the music started to fade out, stopping in the middle and slowly bringing our conjoined hands down. A roar of applause thundered from the crowd and Denki pulled me into a hug. I did it.... I danced with my boyfriend without getting embarrased! I felt him tense a bit after a second and I turned to see my Dad giving Denki the "I'm watching you" look. I rolled my eyes and pulled Denki into a kiss, feeling him hold me tighter as we kissed.

This night couldn't have been more perfect.....

Epliouge ( A/N: Extra just for fun!)

A couple days after the dance, Monoma tried to corner me again, this time being stupid enough to do it while the BakuSquad was still around me. I heard a snarl leave my boyfriend, but I put my hand out, stopping him from doing anything as I glared at my ex as he fired off insult after insult at me. But, he really crossed the line, pissing me off in the process, when he insulted Denki. Finally having had enough, I slammed my locker shut and faced Monoma with the sharpest glare on my face. If looks could kill.... "Monoma, you are absolutely pathetic. You can say whatever you want about me, but insulting my boyfriend? It's about time you GET A LIFE!" I used my quirk on Monoma, letting out the loud energy I had contained for months on end thanks to him. He flew backwards and hit the wall while Sero, Kirishima, even Bakugo laughed their asses off. Denki smirked as he wrapped his arms around me.

"Told you: You're a badass." Denki told me.

"Come on, guys, let's get the hell out of here." I told my friends, walking out beside my boyfriend.

(A/N: Tada! ^.^ Hope you guys enjoyed!)

Taglist: @lxvely-mha @fakeanimefanntnt

[wr1t3-my-wr0ngs]

Good Soldiers- Chapter 2/4

Remembering Yesterday’s Tomorrow (In the Here and Now), Part 4 Cont.

After hours of thinking, he has a plan. Not a good one, but this is Umbara he reminds himself, no plan is a good one, only some that have fewer casualties.

If he's honest with himself, he's not sure if this will have fewer casualties or not.

It occurs to him that he could just kill Krell (he refuses to even think of him as a General), and save everyone pain. As an idea it's extremely tempting. But if this is real — and he still has his doubts, but if it is— he needs to be smart. Can't let his uncertainty in his reality keep him from action. Otherwise, he knows he will get nowhere, knows that not being smart will get him a court-martial, or worse.

So, no. Killing Krell isn't an option, not at this point.

Getting dressed is something of an experience. He's done it hundreds of times, knows the motions by heart — almost on autopilot, which is his saving grace as he deals with the competing signals that say this is normal and this is wrong. He'd forgotten what it was like to have knees that didn't hurt with every step, forgotten how much smaller he was. Not that he has any shame over how he changed with the years, not the hair loss, or the aches, or the extra weight. He got old, was one of the few clones who did, and there's a lingering sense of guilt attached to that, but not shame.

It's with reluctance that he slips off his ring and carefully adds it to his tags around his neck. But it's for the best, he's already planning to change things, and the last thing he needs is to raise suspicion. Nor does he want to lose it in the field, where the odds of finding it in the crushing darkness of the planet are close to impossible.

For all that it's a simple band of steal, after two years of wearing it, he feels naked without it on his finger.

It's both hard and easy falling back into the role of clone captain; he catches himself at times about to say something, only to realize that what he wants to reference hasn't happened. Not yet. But at the same time, details are right there for him to grasp. Rules and battle strategies and conversations he hadn't known he had forgotten sit at the surface of his mind. 

But there is nothing that can prepare him for the torrent of emotions he feels when he sees them again.

His brothers: alive and loud, cracking rude jokes and swapping the latest gossip.

Hardcase, who died on this planet doing the right thing because the right thing needed to be done.

Jesse, who inspires such a mix of emotions that Rex has to studiously not acknowledge them because once he does, he knows he won't be able to hold it together.

Dogma, headstrong and loyal, who Rex never saw again after he was taken away. Heartfelt sorrow rises when he thinks of the fate of his little brother.

Fives and Tup, and the tangled knot of guilt, pride, shame, and remorse that they illicit. Emotions he can't even look at obliquely, or they undo him. Not even to compartmentalize and examine later.

He's glad he has his bucket and the fraction of privacy it gives him. Especially as he makes his way to see Krell. He doesn't need refreshing on the orders to prep the troops, remembers having relayed them before he had fallen asleep. The clock is ticking. But he needs to know that he can trust his memory, trust in the reactions, and there is no better person to start with then Krell.

Being in the same room as the Besalisk makes his skin crawl, and the idea of showing him any inch of respect chafes. He stands at attention anyway; he has a part to play and will be damned if he makes things worse by blowing his cover.

The conversation goes down almost exactly as he remembers, with some changes. For one, it happens earlier, which means since he hasn't actually learned that they have cracked the Umbaran codes, he has to phrases the suggestion of using the Umbaran craft as a hypothetical — that he thinks they may be close to a breakthrough. The idea is met with all the disdain of the first time, the same feeling that the men aren't worth the mud on the Generals boots, and that the Captain is little better.

He's on his way out of the command center when the Besalisk offers one last parting blow.

"CT-7567, next time, I expect you to remove your helmet when speaking to a superior officer."

His teeth clench, and he forces himself to spit out an "Understood, General" in the most neutral voice he can manage without moving his jaw.

His blood boils all the way to the hanger, the knowledge that his memories (if that's what they indeed are) are reliable makes for a poor consolation to the dehumanization of being reduced to his number.

He tries to distract himself by running the plan over in his mind, but it feels too much like counting a casualty report before the end of a battle, daunting and setting himself up for heartbreak. So he switches tracks and focuses instead on just the next part in his plan: Getting his brothers on board.

Jesse, Hardcase and Fives — he is reasonably certain — will agree once they know that his goal is removing Krell from his position and stopping this massacre. Tup, he's aware, will take a little convincing, but the rookie has a solid head on his shoulders. Painfully shy at times, with a habit of letting others speak for — and over– him, but willing stand for what he believes in when push comes to shove.

The wildcard is Dogma (and even through his anger and nerves, he takes a moment to laugh to himself at comparing Dogma to a wild-anything). Loyal and honorable Dogma, who may not be as much of a rookie as Tup, but is still painfully young and so profoundly dedicated to the cause, he refuses to see the dark truth of the war.

It's a risk involving Dogma at all, and Rex wouldn't be surprised if he's reported for insubordination before the battle even starts. But the same something that told him to lean in and kiss Ahsoka on Endor, that told him it was his time to die, the instinct that told him that waking up wasn't a dream, is telling him that Dogma is important.

With no one else to bounce his idea off of, no experience in this specific situation to draw from, all he has is this gut feeling and the knowledge that last time, Dogma did what Rex couldn't and that it's not impossible to get the trooper to recognize the truth before it's too late.

He rounds the corner into the hanger and spots them. Instantly his hands tremble, and his breath shudders and the emotions associated with his brothers (so well buried by his anger at Krell that he had momentarily forgotten them) lodge themselves in his throat. He takes a second to compose himself because there is no way for him to face his brothers with his bucket on without arousing their suspicion. Pulling off his helmet and tucking it under his arm, Rex briefly lets his hand linger over the spot where his wedding ring rests against his chest, eyes closed, and centers himself, before plunging into the busy room.

He arrives a little late in the conversation, but it seems to have progressed the same without him. It's a relief and makes waiting for an opportunity to present itself easier.

"— 100 megaton yield. We won't even make it to the delta."

It Jesse who notices his arrival.

"Any news, Captain?"

Rex shakes his head.

"Afraid not. We are to proceed as planned."

Hardcase groans.

"Great, another suicide mission. The Capital is too well armed."

"Why does it seem like he has it out for clones?"

Tup punctuates his words with a wave of his wrench, addressing the group at large.

"I think you're all over reacting. Obviously, General Krell knows what he's doing."

Rex seizes his chance.

"That's what worries me."

He considers that he may have over-seized his chance because it's not just Dogma looking at him with open shock; he has everyone's attention. Hardcase looks equal parts proud and stunned, Jesse looks like he can't believe what he just heard, Tup is suddenly engrossed in the mechanics of the ship he's working on (but Rex can tell he's listening, he's holding the wrench backward and not really doing anything), and Dogma...

Dogma looks scandalized, but also curious.

Which...is better then Rex had hoped for.

Its Fives that concerns him, with his squint-eyed calculating look, like the Captain is a puzzle that he only just realized he's missing the pieces too. Concerning, because Rex knows how far this particular brother will go to chase a suspicion or put a mystery together.

If nothing else, it serves as a reminder to watch his words.

Hardcase, unsurprisingly, is the first to recover his voice.

"Care to elaborate?"

Rex opens his mouth, then hesitates, glancing around. The hanger is many things, open chief among them, and hardly the place for this conversation. There are too many people, too many ears around for his comfort — wants to smack himself for letting it happen in the open last time.

"Not here."

He leads them to the barracks, where they all settle in, exchanging glances when they think he can't see them (Fives hasn't taken his eyes of him once, and it's unnerving to be under such close scrutiny by this particular brother). Rex chooses to rest himself against the wall, crossing and uncrossing his arms before sighing deeply. Not sure how to start despite things going, so far, as planned.

"Well?" Jesse prompts.

"This is just talk, understand? If I'm wrong, I'm wrong, and nothing will come of it." He's not, knows he isn't, but he's walking a fine line between plausible deniability and treason and is very aware which side his next words put him on.

Everyone nods, Dogma more to show his understanding then actual condoning of whatever is about to come out of his Captain's mouth, but Rex takes it as a good sign.

"I've had my suspicions for some time now that General Krell is no longer loyal to the Republic."

Chaos, absolute chaos, erupts as soon as the words leave his lips. He's not even sure who is saying what for a moment. Despite the pressing need for both time and discretion, he can't help the swell of fondness that rises as he takes in the scene: Hardcase's shouts that he knew it the whole time. Dogma and Fives who look to be gearing up for a fist fight, leaving Jesse and Tup torn between jumping in if need be to separate their brothers and staying out of it. Its familiar, and Rex never imagined that he would miss it.

It is also incredibly loud.

"OY!" 

It would be laughable if the topic of conversation weren't so serious, with how quickly everyone settles down.

"Like I said, this is just talk."

Jesse snorts, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Big talk. What do you know?"

"I've been keeping an eye on his casualty counts, his strategies, his reports, and things don't add up."

Its a half-lie, he hadn't really heard or paid much about the General the first time, only the scuttlebutt that floated around the commanding officer's gossip network. But after Umbara, Rex had dug into the Generals history, read every report, counted every brother lost because of Krell, wondered how he could have been so blind.

"For someone who claims to be dedicated to ending the war in the name of the Republic, his strategies cost the GAR deeply in terms of both manpower and credits."

It goes without saying that the two, as far as the Republic is concerned, are essentially the same thing.

"That's what I've been saying!" Hardcase says from his bunk.

"But, " and Tup sounds horrified, looks it too. "The Generals a Jedi."

"They're still just people." Hardcase points out rather magnanimously.

From the corner of his eye, Rex can see Dogma shaking his head, eyes closed, a pained expression on his face.

He wants to go over, see how the trooper is doing because he knows what it's like to have your whole world view shaken to the core, but his attention is split as Jesse starts talking.

"So, what do we do?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Fives steps forward from where he had been leaning against the opposite wall, punctuating his words with his hands. "Krell has turned traitor and is killing brothers; we need to remove him."

Dogma shoots to his feet.

"What you're suggesting is treason."

"I'm being realistic."

The two advance on each other, voices rising with each passing second.

"You're planning a coup!"

"Against a General that knowingly sends his men out to die and undermine the entire cause of this army? Yes!"

Rex darts in, physically putting himself between the two, a hand on each man's chest.

"Fives, control yourself. Dogma, take a walk."

"Sir-"

"That's an order, Trooper!"

The air is tense as the two go eye to eye, and Rex sees the moment when Dogma realizes that the Captain isn't on his side, and for a second, Rex wonders if the trooper will listen.

"Yes, Sir."

It's spoken with more vitriol then Rex had known Dogma was capable of, hissed and quiet. Everyone watches in silence as he leaves the room, exchanging glances in shock, and looking to him for direction. Rex, suddenly drained, doesn't have the energy for a proper dismissal and vaguely waves everyone off, waits for everyone to shuffle out before burning his face in his hands. 

That...could have gone better. Even so, he doesn't think Dogma will report him, but only time would tell what the fallout would bring.

He's on his way out of the barracks when he meets Fives at the door coming back in, who waits for the door to shut behind him before crossing his arms and putting on his "don't give me any karking shit" face.

The Captain's heart clenches. It was easy enough to ignore his emotions when there was more than one brother in the room. But like this, face to face with nowhere to retreat to, he can feel his mask cracking.

It must show too, because Fives goes from stern to worried, arms falling to his side.

"Are you alright, vod?"

He considers lying. Secrecy, especially in his position, is paramount. He dismisses the thought rather quickly, in part because he knows he's a horrible liar. Sure, he can pull off small parts on missions when required, but there is a very good reason he wasn't assigned to the Couricanti Guard. He can't bluff for the life of him, and not even nearly Forty years' life experience had changed that.

But it's not the only reason.

Messy, tangled emotions aside, this is Fives. One of the most loyal and trustworthy brothers he has ever had the honor to know.  Who has always put his brothers first, even in the most insane and ridiculous of situations. If there is anyone, anyone, that Rex could trust with his secret and not worry about being handed over for reconditioning, it would be him.

And he is incredibly tired. Not even a full day, and the weight of his secret has eaten away at him. He hasn't felt this alone since his first days on the run from the Empire — before he had found Wolffe and Gregor — surrounded by unknowns, hunted by people he considered family (they didn't stop being his brothers just because the chips were activated, and that knowledge had only made it worse).

He exhales a shuddering breath, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks, and wills himself to meet Fives gaze.

"No, I'm not."

Like that, the dam breaks and he buries his face in his hands. Distantly, he's aware of being led over to the nearest bunk and sat down, of Fives gently rubbing his back through the plastoid (it doesn't do much, but the gesture is nice). He's not sure how long he cries for, but when he's done, Fives silently hands him a rag, and he able to muster a weak smile in return.

After a moment, Fives speaks.

"Want to share?"

Rex hesitates, brain still a little foggy from crying, and mentally checks over what he can and shouldn't say.

"It's...complicated."

He tries his best, details what he can in broad strokes. The end of the war, the fact they lost, him going into hiding, joining the rebellion, his death, and waking back up. He doesn't mention the chips; it's neither the time nor the place to worry about them, and he knows the moment that Fives finds out about them, he would take on that responsibility too.

When he's done, Fives is silent for a few moments, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled and pressed against his mouth. When he does speak, he looks at the Captain.

"There's more, isn't there?"

Rex nods, and sighs.

"Yeah, a lot."

"How old were you when...?"

Fives trails off, and Rex isn't sure if it's because he doesn't want to say it or doesn't know how to phrase it kindly. But he knows what his brother is asking.

"When I died? Thirty-Nine."

His brother laughs.

"Should I start calling you Gramps?"

Rex groans, because if there is one thing he doesn't miss about the rebellion, it's that particular call sign, and gives Fives a playful shove.

"Respect your elders."

They grin at each other for a moment, but the light mood doesn't last.

"So, Krell's fallen?"

Rex nods, and Fives goes quiet once again. In the vacuum that the silence leaves, a question pushes to the front of Rex's mind. He's afraid to ask, not sure he wants to know the answer, but certain that he needs to.

"You believe me?"

"I don't know yet."

It hurts to hear, but he can't fault his brother, because he knows how crazy it sounds, and if the positions were reversed, Rex is sure he would feel much the same.

"But, " Fives continues, "I can see for myself that something isn't right with the General, and if you say that it's because he's a traitor, I believe you."

The ARC trooper squares his shoulders and looks at Rex, certainty and determination radiating off him.

"I'll follow your lead, Captain. What's the plan?"