#beginning of the loop all his friends are here :^) he's completely unaware of how its negatively effecting people
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Hywel is inspired by a mix of my issues with stories with nonhuman protagonist/about nonhumans becoming human AND vet posts ive seen warning people about the dangers of anthropomorphisizing animals. Its fine to joke about your pets doing things out of spite or other human emotions, it does put you at risk of not being able to read their body language correctly. Cats dont cry out of sadness, a cat crying, with actual tears streaming down its face, is a sign of a medical issue. A dog smiling isn't doing it bc its happy, it means its nervous. Not being able to spot these is bad, and sometimes even dangerous, for you and the animal.
If you never get past Hywel's human appearance and treat him like one its like getting a reactive dog, doing zero research or training, and then taking it to a dog park. If Hywel mauls someone in town then its on you.
#hywel struggles a lot with good vs bad things specifically#he makes decisions based on what makes him feel good or bad (like most people) but#if you explain something being bad to him using emotional reasons (it makes you a bad person‚ its an awful thing to do‚ its gross)#he genuinely will not get it#he'll try to stop! just bc he was told to stop! but he doesn't know how to apply it to other situations#murder for example#he's immortal death doesnt have the same meaning to him#and he doesn't particularly care about people outside of arisen#they're entertaining he finds them fun. they're critters to him#but he's not bothered by them dying#arisen dying is bad bc it means he failed his charge. he cant die. regular people dying? eh whatever#so he doesn't really get why murder is bad#if ur in vernsworth and tell him no then he'll be like i dont understand but ok!!#its only bad in vernsworth bc thats where you said no at!! everywhere else is fine !#he's not trying to find loopholes!!! he genuinely doesn't get it and is doing his best to work with what he's given!!!#his way of thinking is p straightforward and logical though#so you have to explain stuff by how it effects him and how the cons of doing it outweigh the benefits#hywel u cant murder people you dont like bc if we allowed that people would kill merchants and then you couldn't buy stuff#anyway bonus scifi au stuff while im here#hywel would remember the time loops and would do whatever it takes to keep the crew safe#but the thing is. cosmic horror hywel doesn't really understand time or how the loops are fucking people up#he knows the false dawn losing its crew was bad. he doesn't understand WHY its bad‚ but he knows it is#and he loves this crew! theyre funny and some of them are fun to chew on. enrichment.#he's gonna do whateve it takes to keep this crew safe and together. on the ship. y'know‚‚‚ bc the other ship losing its crew was bad#restarting a loop means nothing to him. yeah he's gotta start over with his friendships but thats fun! enrichment!#hes a creature time means nothing to him#beginning of the loop all his friends are here :^) he's completely unaware of how its negatively effecting people#anyway i cannot stress enough he isn't doing this to be malicious he's just doing his best#someone would absolutely realize he was doing this early on and if you tell him to stop he will#but yeah better hope you can explain why he cant do that well enough or hywels gonna unintentionally find every loophole
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Dinner Games

Summary: During dinner with the Avengers, you and Bucky find a way to keep things interesting
Word Count: 1.5k
Content: use of sex toys, edging, female orgasm, sex in public places
And away, and away we go!
__
“No,” you heard Bucky say. “No. Absolutely not.”
You turned in confusion, expecting to find him on the phone, but instead he was staring at you with his arms crossed. “Something wrong?” you asked slowly.
“Yeah. We’re going to be late because you have to change.”
“Why do I have to change? What’s wrong with how I’m dressed now?”
His eyes roamed your body, stopping at the hem of your skirt, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Look, doll. We have two options here. We can be a little late because you’re going to change. Or, we don’t go to dinner at all.”
“Oh?” you said, cocking an eyebrow and walking over to him. “So you’re saying you can’t control yourself, is that it?” Your voice dropped to a sultry taunt as you ran your fingertips up the front of his shirt.
“It’s not that I can’t, doll. It’s that I don’t want to.”
“Care to make this interesting, then?” you asked, an idea coming to you.
“What do you have in mind?”
~~~
You were stopped at a red light about a block from the restaurant when a small buzz went through your core. “Bucky!” you hissed, shifting one leg over the other. “This isn’t playing fair. You’re supposed to wait until we get there.”
The corner of his mouth was pulled into a smirk, and he let out a chuckle, as the buzzing stopped. “Had to make sure the remote worked. And that it’s not loud,” he explained with faux innocence.
“You’re a menace,” you retorted, uncrossing your legs.
“This was your idea,” he reminded you. “And I’d work on your poker face.”
~~~
You almost thought Bucky had forgotten about your little toy as he lost himself in conversation with Sam and Steve at dinner, and taking cheap shots at Peter and Tony. And you yourself almost forgot as you focused your attention on your own conversations with other members of the team, growing unaware of the restless circles you were drawing on Bucky’s thigh.
You’d made it through appetizers before a vibration pulsed, causing you to gasp as you took a drink, your hand tightening on Bucky. “You good, Y/N?” Steve asked, his eyebrows pulled together in concern.
“Yep, all good,” you forced a smile, before shooting a look at Bucky. “Seriously?!” you hissed at him, barely moving your lips as the vibrations continued. “Not when I’m trying to drink something. Not cool.”
“You’re the one who started it,” he whispered back, looking down at his lap.
Your eyes followed his, noting the small death grip you had on his cock. “Oops?” you offered up innocently, shrugging your shoulders and moving your hand off to rest more squarely on his thigh, genuinely unaware your hand had traveled up that far.
“Yeah, oops,” Bucky replied mockingly, and the vibrations got kicked up a notch.
“I didn’t know!” you said, loudly, fingers gripping into his thigh. “That story. I didn’t know that story,” you quickly tried to recover. “That’s um… that’s a new one.”
There were stifled coughs, raised eyebrows, and shrugs at your outburst before conversations resumed naturally, and the vibrations went back to a slow, steady beat. “Poker face,” Bucky taunted.
It was sheer stubbornness that kept your face neutral and your body relaxed, despite each pulse of the vibrator making you grow wetter. But as your high crept closer, you felt your face begin to warm as you tried to keep control. “B-Bucky,” you breathed, trying to get his attention, fingernails digging into his thigh as you reached for your water glass, hoping the cold water would soothe you.
He turned his head to press a kiss to your cheek, using the chance to coo “Gonna cum? Right here at dinner in front of all our friends?” in your ear.
You could have slapped the sadistic smirk off his face as you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as your moan rumbled low in your throat.
“Naughty girl,” he tsked, masking his words to you with another kiss.
The vibrations came to a complete stop, and the breath you’d been holding came out in an angry huff. He could at least have the decency of letting you finish. You busied yourself with draining your water glass, shooting daggers at your boyfriend all the while.
“More water, miss?” a waiter asked as main dishes were passed around.
“Yes, please,” you nodded, and drinking half of the refill in one gulp.
You thought that Bucky had had his fun, watching you squirm and try to keep composure. You thought you’d make it through the rest of dinner, the exhilaration enough to tide you both over until you were home. But it was clear Bucky wasn’t quite finished with his game, as you felt his hand slide up your skirt, a finger pushing your panties out of his way before sliding through your folds, humming his delight in how soaked his finger became. “Bucky,” you choked out when that same finger started to draw circles on your clit. “Could you pass the salt?”
“Course, doll,” he grinned, handing you the salt shaker.
“Thank you,” you replied, gritting your teeth, his finger slow and torturous against your clit.
The sound of everyone enjoying their food was enough to mask your moan when the slow vibrations started up again. “Good food,” you commented, easing out another moan. “Wish there was more.”
Bucky took the hint, the vibrations coming faster, the pulsing stronger, and his finger still drawing the slow and torturous circles on your clit. “Really enjoying your food there, doll?” Bucky teased you.
“Mhm,” you nodded frantically, forcing yourself to take another bite. “So good.”
Stealthily, Bucky switched the vibrator on the highest setting, and it took every ounce of willpower you had to not lose it. Bucky felt the tremor beginning in your legs, and watched as beads of sweat started to roll down your flushed face. Even your neck was covered in a blush as your orgasm built.
As to not draw too much attention, Bucky guided your head to his shoulder, metal fingertips cool against your heated skin. “Cum quietly,” he murmured so only you could hear him. “That’s it, good girl,” he coaxed you through your orgasm, as you squeezed your eyes shut tight in his shoulder, your own fingers death gripping any part of him you could find as you let out a long low whimper. “Very good girl,” he praised, a soft kiss finding its way to your temple, as he removed his hand from your clit, smoothing your skirt back into place. Then, loudly he went “Doll, you feeling okay?”
You shook your head, making your moan sound as pitiful as you could. “Think I ate too fast,” you said, pulling away from his shoulder to look at him.
“Jesus, Y/N, you look like you’re either going to faint,” Steve started.
“Or blow chunks,” Tony finished.
“Oh, sweetie, you should go home and get some rest,” Natasha told you.
“Yeah, honestly Barnes, what were you thinking dragging her out when she’s clearly sick?” Tony scolded Bucky.
“Honestly, it’s probably nothing guys,” you tried to defuse. “The food was so good, I probably just ate too fast. Nothing a little rest won’t fix.”
“Mmm, yeah,” Peter spoke up. “I used to eat so fast I’d get stomach aches all the time. But now? I can eat as fast as I want and nothing happens. Hey, Y/N, maybe I can find that spider and have it bite you, too! Then you won’t get sick when you eat!”
You laughed at the youngest Avengers enthusiasm. “I’ll pass for now, Pete, but thanks. I’ll keep that in mind next time I eat my way into a stomach ache. Bucky? Can we go?”
“Yeah, course, doll.”
Quickly you said your goodbyes, before letting Bucky usher you out of the restaurant, both of you letting out a loud laugh once you were safely in the parking lot. “You!” you kept laughing, doubling over and pointing a finger at Bucky. “You’re an asshole!”
“How am I the asshole? This was your idea!” he reminded you, as he helped you into the car.
“You only edge me during punishments and that wasn’t a punishment, Bucky.”
He pulled a face, his fingers drumming against the hood of the car as he thought through the evening. “Oh! Shit, doll, I didn’t realize how close you were the first time. I’m sorry.” His eyes were wide and apologetic as they looked down at you.
“It’s okay,” you told him, smiling up at him. “That was fun. Just wish I could get you back.”
“Oh… believe me. You got me back.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. So can we go home before I rip through my jeans? I don’t think they can grow much tighter.”
“Or…” you suggested, hooking a finger through his belt loop to tug him closer to you. “We could fuck here in the car.”
“God, I love you, doll,” he growled, leaning down to press a hungry kiss to your lips, one of his hands pulling on the lever of your seat to recline it, the only sound being your giggles and the car door pulling shut as he climbed on top of you.
__
Tag List
@cxddlyash @stanofalotofthings @philthepegacorn @youngblood199456 @binxiboo @creator-appreciator @felixtok @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @jessalyn-jpeg @lilyoflower @mychemicalimagines @rougese7en @milea @partiesandblurrypolaroids @summerdaughter
#dinner games#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#marvel#avengers#calpal irwin
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New fic *test*
New Bio!dad Bruce story? I’m testing out this first chapter, and if I like where it’s going I might add it to my growing pile of WIPs. If I have inspiration, I might as well use it. Because of life events stressing me the hell out, I’m throwing any writing plans out the window and I’m purely gonna write to destress right now. Whether that means updating THG or not, or continuing Maribat March, we’ll just have to see how this all pans out. Things are subject to day-to-day change.
I got inspiration from this from rereading my day 1 story for Bio!dad Bruce Wayne month from last year. I’m just gonna change a few things.
—*—*—*—*—*
For once, an unfamiliar face attracted the attention of everyone who caught even a glimpse of them. It wasn’t even because of the person themselves at first, but their dress. The skirt like the most fantastical of storybook ball gowns, fluffy layers of satin over a luxurious petticoat, with a stunning pink floral pattern whose busy appearance was tastefully offset by a shorter, sheer layer of leaf green tulle artistically weaved and somehow sculpted over the floral in order to tame it. The effect turned what should be a grandmotherly pattern into something softer, sophisticated and youthful and yet also reminiscent of fairytale princesses. Over top the short layer of green tulle was an even shorter later of white tulle, almost invisible except for the elegant embroidery of crystal-white vines that twined all over it, connecting the green below it to the bottom-most floral pattern and oddly adding a layer of childishness instead of maturity. At the waist of the dress was a dark plum pink satin ribbon, to separate the elaborate ballgown skirt from the bodice. Attached to the simple ribbon was a large brooch of fabric flowers, with a single plastic ladybug in the center.
The bodice of the dress came up into a cheongsam neckline, but was sleeveless. It was a simple design, of half green and half dark pink, with a white border separating the two. The white border had expertly done embroideries in a soft silver thread that would only be visible close up, the images the thread made being that of fairies and ladybugs dancing around one another.
It was, all in all, a stunning display that made the small eurasian woman wearing them look like absolute royalty. Perhaps a long lost fairy princess. Her black-blue hair was even done up in elaborate looping braids and a braided bun, with silver and green pins that further completed the regal ensemble. And yes, while the expertly done dress was what initially captivated her current audience, it was not what kept them from leaving her alone. That was all her personality, bubbly and bright as her blinding smile. It was a sunny disposition that very few people present had any exposure to at all, and it drew them like a sunflower to the daylight. They could not help but flock closer, or even just stand back and keep themselves turned to her presence. Already she had been at the gala for two hours, but there was no issue. She just kept proving her generosity, admitting she had donated both a dress and a suit of her own making to the charity auction that would begin soon, one of the main attractions of the gala. She skillfully charmed the more snooty of the attendants, and artfully twisted her words so that they felt compelled to donate more money that they truly had no use for. Later, they would remember their donation and wonder what compelled it, but come up with no satisfying answer.
And yet she was entirely unaware of her more silent audience, who stood back and observed. Truth be told, every one of them was glad to not be the center of that attention for a change, to have room to breathe for so long at an event where usually that commodity was so scarce that it demanded a fierce competition for. Compared to her garden of color, they were all shadows in shades of blacks and blues and whites, with a touch of red here and there that was entirely too thematic for their home city. The one who sported a royal blue suit tilted his head at the scene they were all calmly witnessing, his bright azure eyes glittering.
“She’s like magic,” he mused, clearly enchanted despite having not said a single word to the woman. “Perfect socialite. She’s kind, generous, she made that dress and the ones she donated to the auction herself so she’s obviously got an intimidating amount of skill for her age. She even tricks those old fuddy-duddies into spending money. It’s like a dream come true!”
“I don't trust it,” the one to his right said, a man just a few inches shorter in a classic black suit with a red dress shirt underneath. He absently swept his bangs away from his face as he narrowed his eyes at the woman. “It seems too perfect. She doesn’t have any identifiable character flaw, except maybe being a little clumsy and too energetic. She does babble a little… but nothing that actually suggests any depth besides her just being— good. That’s impossible, and I don’t trust it.”
“Tt. I agree with Drake for once. She seems entirely too comfortable with this setting, despite her blushes and rambles,” the one who spoke this like was taller, clearly a teen in the middle of his growth spurt. He, too, wore a plain black suit but his had subtle charcoal embroidery and he wore an emerald-green dress shirt under it that made his matching eyes gleam dangerously. “It seems almost playacted. Expertly so, but nonetheless not entirely genuine.”
“Wow, not many pick up on that. I’m gonna give your observations a solid eight out of ten. They’re all perfectly sound, but not quite complete,” a new voice made all of the silent group stiffen— somehow they had been snuck up on. The newcomer smirked at them as if having fully expected their reaction but still being pleased at being able to evoke it. This was yet another stunner; far too much color in her outfit to be a Gotham native, and far too much skill in the construction for it to signify anything less than extreme influence. She had bright golden-blond hair that was coiled into a low bun, with her bangs artfully curled and arranged to display her crystal blue eyes.
In contrast to the garden-themed dress of the Eurasian woman who had garnered their attention at first, this newcomer was wearing a pantsuit. It was all in a dark honey-gold, in a stiff fabric with construction that made it lay entirely in perfect, straight lines and hug her form in the right places. Black embroidery decorated the long, flared sleeves and pant legs and dripped around the square neckline like a faux necklace. A cape made out of the same material as the rest of the pantsuit was draped on one shoulder. It started out as the same honey-gold color, but it became a gradient as it faded to a solid black at the ends. Gold thread embroidery decorated the solid black bottom of the cape in delicate, deceptively simplistic swirls. The top half of the pantsuit was clearly inspired by military garb, simultaneously rigidly constructed yet fitted, with circular onyx buttons going down the center of the chest and a thick metal belt, all in swirling silver and black, sat perfectly clasped around her waist. It was far more solid-colored and simplistic compared to the fairytale dress in the center, but no less show stopping and luxurious. It simply showcased an entirely different attitude, almost as if the two women could never get along if their personalities matched their outfits.
“And who are you?” The man who had been the center of the group of shadow-like adults spoke up, back straightening to milk every speck of his generous six-feet-and-three-inches of height. This was none other than Bruce Wayne, the host of this annual charity gala. And normally, his current stance would either intimidate or utterly charm whoever it was directed at— but not this pantsuit-clad blond warrior. Her smirk merely widened, and her blue eyes took on a slight shade of teal as if trying to mimic the dangerous ocean depths.
“I am Chloe Bourgeois, the daughter of Andre Bourgeois, the mayor of Paris, and Audrey Bourgeois, the Style Queen. It’s nice to meet you again, Monsieur Wayne,” she introduced herself imperiously. “I also happen to be the best friend of the girl you were just staring at.”
Bruce nodded, but had trouble reconciling this clear powerhouse of a woman with the bratty and entitled preteen he had met years ago, at the last gala she had attended with her mother. “Of course, I didn’t recognize you at first Chloe. You’ve grown a lot since the last Gala I saw you at.”
Chloe wrinkled her nose, clearly not appreciating the reminder. “I was a bitch,” she admitted easily, seemingly not at all bothered by the confession. It caused not only Bruce but also the oldest three of his sons, who had all also met her in the past, to blink in silent shock. “Things have changed. Paris is apparently the perfect chaotic environment right now to promote emotional growth and smack spoiled kids over the head with reality,” she shrugged. Part of the reason her and her whole class had even been able to come to the Gala in the first place was the fact that Bruce wanted to offer the most attacked group of Parisians a respite and some support from their crazy lives. The fact that even Gotham seemed sane in comparison to Paris was a bit of a hard hit for both involved parties, but in the end everyone understood that “more sane” didn’t always equate with “less dangerous.” Considering all that, Chloe had no reason to sugarcoat the situation in her home city. “But it wasn’t easy at all, and Marinette was largely responsible for my improvement too.”
“Marinette?” The heathen who somehow got away with attending a gala in a black leather jacket over a dress shirt and suit pants asked, raising a brow. Chloe nodded.
“The girl you were just goggling at. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the class president and resident workaholic. Does she ever sleep? Nobody knows,” Chloe shrugged.
The blue-suited man, Dick Grayson, shot a suspicious glance at Tim, who was standing to his right, as if he was worried his brother had made a female clone of himself just so he could continue to work hard and never rest. Tim ignored him and sipped from the thermos of coffee he had somehow snuck in.
Bruce cleared his throat to bring the focus back onto himself, and shot his most charming smile at Chloe. “They would have known who she was, if they had read the brief information I gave them about your class. But they never do listen to me,” he complained with good humor. “But back to the original topic, Miss Bourgeois, do you care to correct us on how our observations are lacking?”
Chloe laughed easily, smiling and nodding to indicate Marinette, still stuck in a circle of socialites and not seeming the least bit worn out.
“Of course. First; She is not completely acting. She really is like magic sometimes— disgustingly kind, generous, far too willing to help just about anyone for just about any reason. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met, as much as it pains me to admit it. But she is exaggerating her personality a bit and hiding the parts she doesn’t want anyone to see, so there is a little acting involved. Just not as much as you seem to think,” Chloe then waved her arm in a flourish as if she were presenting Marinette to them. “In short; behold Mari Dupain-Cheng, the ridiculously likeable, disgustingly cute, extremely philanthropic mask that she shows everyone at public events like this. You don’t see any of the insomnia, or the anxiety, or the self doubt. Just the parts she wants you to see, accompanied with a smile to blind you to everything else,” her all-too-deep blue eyes settled back on Bruce then, a knowing glint shining in them. “Don’t you think that’s ridiculously similar to Brucie Wayne for you, Monsieur? Utterly, ridiculously, similar?”
Bruce grit his teeth. He hadn’t expected anyone else to know about his exceptionally well hidden secret, not even his kids had caught on or found his buried evidence yet. Yet his heiress comes up, nearly flaunting her knowledge in his face with all too many unspoken questions and criticisms.
And her cryptic words had succeeded in making all of his kids look at him with extreme suspicion. Shit.
“What are you saying, Miss Bourgeois?” he cautiously prodded. She hummed noncommittally before dropping the bomb all too casually;
“I’m saying I’ve seen her adoption papers, and you won’t be able to run from her for long Monsieur Wayne. As soon as she gets an opening, she’s going to pounce,” Chloe’s eyes glittered dangerously again. “And nowadays, Marinette doesn’t ever let people escape her. Your problem with adoption has created a rather unique problem, you know. You’re at fault for a large majority of her self confidence issues, and I want you to know that I am not going to forget or forgive that anytime soon.”
“Bruce,” Jason’s voice was dark and threatening. “What is she talking about?”
“Something we don’t want getting in the tabloids,” Yet another new voice popped up, allowing Chloe to smugly sink back into the background.
Somewhere during their discussion, Marinette had ambushed them.
“Chloe and I are very good at locating all the reporters in a room and distracting them, but we’re not infallible and this event has far too much coverage,” Her smile reeked confidence and charm, but this close all the Waynes could see the doubt hiding in her bluebell eyes. “Since I’m about to turn eighteen, I figured this would be as good a time as any to finally confront you. I want to make it clear that I seek nothing from you, except the occasional contact. I would like to keep in touch, if nothing else. But if you are adverse to that… then at least answer my questions after the gala,” her eyes developed a hint of carefully controlled desperation. “Please.”
Bruce met her eyes evenly, trying to read her. But she was difficult, simultaneously too many emotions to sort through in her demeanor and much too little. After an extremely tense moment of silence, his voice came out barely above a whisper:
“You do not want anybody to know?”
And hell, if she didn’t recognize the hidden vulnerability in his voice as the very same she heard in her own far too often. In a much tamer version of her own rambling, he went on:
“I can keep it silent if that is what you want. But I want you to know that I will not be adverse to you admitting it anywhere. I don’t expect you to change your name, but I would not be ashamed of the truth getting out. I am not ashamed of it, of you.”
Marinette’s smile grew a little watery. She had to clear her throat to keep herself from tearing up. “Maybe eventually, but not yet. I… I want to stay a little more anonymous for now. It’s one thing to be a well known designer with good connections. It’s an entirely different thing to be…”
“A Wayne?” Bruce finished, ignoring the daggers that were being stared into his back. “I understand completely.
“Father,” Damian’s voice was all sharp edges and rapidly suppressed panic. “What. Is going. On?”
Marinette shot him an apologetic smile. “Apparently, eighteen years ago, his prerogative was to put the child he actually knew about up for adoption when the mother died in childbirth,” her voice was once again only barely loud enough for them to hear, since she didn’t want any eavesdroppers. “Imagine my surprise when I find out he completely flipped sides only months later.”
--*--*--*--*--*
Hey, so please share your feedback on this. This is just to test out a possible new bio dad, multichapter fic and this is the opening scene I'm trying out. If you like it, please tell me what you like about it and please suggest titles for the story! I love you guys' feedback so much!
#maribat#bio!dad au#bio!dad bruce wayne#platonic daminette#platonic jasonette#platonic dickinette#platonic timinette#platonic timari#mlb x dc#ml x dc#maribat fic#platonic brucinette#older sister Marinette
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TAKE MY DHMIS AU (this time it is not a reblog)
its called the insanity/sleepless/savior au. (whatever you wanna call it) (mostly called insanity) (for now, until i find a different/better name. or it may never change, who knows.)
(i'm gonna format this in a funny way so people will read this.) (ill also edit this when i make more shit up)
a lot of this is kinda out of character, but its an au, tf did you expect?
now i'm gonna stop stalling
heres how this shit went down..
______________________________________________________________
Red is CONVINCED that something is up with the house.
so naturally, he locks himself in a room with a corkboard and some photos, and doesn't sleep for about 2 weeks straight. (as any sane person would do.) so yes he is very insane also duck and yellow are very much unaware of this
*side note: you know how in the movies, people use red string to connect the clues up? yeah so red was like "yo i need something to tie this all together." so he looked over at a table and he saw some scissors and he um
he cut some of his hair off
besides that, he's perfectly fine.
anyways, after days (and nights) of research and theorizing like motherfucking Matpat Game Theory,
he figures it out.
(or at least, he thinks he does.)
First off; he realizes that the days are looping. he has suspected it before, but he has finally confirmed it.
but red wants out. so he's all like "man fuck this shit., when can i leave?"
and then he comes up with the 'best idea ever.'
"what if we DIE?"
"if we all die forever, then maybe we'll leave this hellish loop!"
So he leaves the room and sees the light of day (he only had one light on in that little room.)
since the room is connected to the kitchen, yellow and duck are in the kitchen talking.
duck spots red first and is all like "WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?!?!? WE'VE BEEN LOOKING EVERYWHERE"
Red doesnt respond.
so ducks just like "anyways come sit down we got food"
THIS IS WHERE IT GETS WEIRD.
since red is now kind of on this i guess- elevated?? mindset, he subconsciously starts committing acts of.. violence.
it starts off small, with things like pushing stuff off tables, occasional throwing of objects, glaring at people menacingly
then the physical violence kicks in. (swatting away peoples hands, actively ignoring people, making intense efforts to be away from everyone and everything)
finally, red snaps
whilst yellows back is turned one day in the kitchen,
red draws a knife and stabs him. he stabs him 11 times
just as he does this, duck comes in and is like "WHAT THE FUCK"
he's pissed, he's sad, he's angry
he yells at red and is like "WHY DID YOU DO THIS"
and red starts villain monologuing about his theories and research. (also like matpat)
meanwhile duck wants out, so hes slowly backing away. red is turned around so he cant see duck backing away, but duck hits the kitchen counter, and red wheels around and give duck this stare
this stare where you know he is completely gone.
where you know he is lost in Insanity™️
woah that was edgy. anyways red continues. he ends his speech with something like "and now, you must die. for the sake of us" or something
so duck just books it
red follows
theres a bit where duck looks up the stairs and contemplates if he should go up them. he looks up them, then behind him, and then he just- runs left and doesnt go up the stairs.
anwyas in the end red ends up killing him
and hes like "finally, i freed them! my friends are saved" and he thinks of himself as this amazing savior. so then he waits to see if he was right. he sits in his chair and stares out the window for hours.
in his theories, he thinks that in the next day his friends will be gone and safe.
he ends up falling asleep while looking out the window.
now if this was in an episodal format, the next episode would begin.
the intro plays.
duck and yellow are there, and just fine. they didnt remember that they died. (this is including my headcanon that the characters only remember the good parts or "lessons" of each episode and barely any of the traumatizing shit) (okay sometimes they randomly remember the traumatizing things but ypu get what i mean)
but red is just fuckin confused
hes all like
"guys??? i killed you??? waht the fuck?!?!?@?"
and then for the next episode he is just super paranoid
and thats all i have
maybe red dies of stress/suicide??? then comes back the next episode? and forgets?!?!? idk?
but thats it for now
tag me if you make any content about my au btw because i wanna see cool art 👍
#dhmis#dhmis au#red guy dhmis#dhmis yellow guy#yellow guy dhmis#yellow guy#red guy#dont hug me im scared#dhmis insanity au#insanity au
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Satan x Reader, NSFW
My Secret Santa gift for a friend on my Obey Me Discord server! (please enjoy my first nsfw piece)
word count: 4.4k
Summary: Satan is in heat, and you are determined to help him every step of the way.
Other relevant tags: Jealousy, biting
Note: Pronouns aren’t used, but the reader is afab
It starts with eyes following your every move. Satan staring at you isn’t exactly uncommon, but it’s never this intense. This… dark.
Is he okay?
It’s hard to tell. Because as much as you try to bridge the distance between you, he always ends up pulling away before you can get to close. Almost like he’s afraid.
But it’s never been this bad. Not enough for him to leave the room without even saying hello. You turn around to follow him before Lucifer grabs your shoulder.
His gaze is as stern as ever. “Leave him be. You’ll be in danger otherwise.”
Lucifer being cryptic and overbearing isn’t exactly new, but this warning still throws you for a loop. “What makes you say that?”
A pause. He seems to mull something over. “Satan is… different from the rest of us. Once every 200 years his other sins take root, and they threaten to overwhelm him.”
A pang of sympathy runs through you. Satan has spoken with you about his anger before, about how much he struggles to keep it all in check. From the moment he was born, he had to keep himself contained. Hidden away.
The word monster is never used, but it’s heavily implied. In the self loathing that drips off of his tongue, in the way he never does anything more than hold your hand. Satan is a man who has struggled to accept himself throughout his entire life.
It’s something you can relate to. Your problems are entirely different from his own of course, but existing is rough. And on the days that it’s at its worse, Satan is there. Whether it’s reading you a book or showing off some of the neighborhood cats, you are grateful to have him in your life.
So it’s only natural for you to want to make his life better in return. Just like the dozens of times that Satan has supported you… you are determined to do the same. Lucifer’s warning be damned.
Whatever Satan is going through, he shouldn’t have to go through it alone. Even if it’s just talking over the phone, even if the distance between the two of you can’t be breached, you make a promise to yourself, then and there.
No matter what, you are going to be there for him, every step of the way.
Lucifer continues, completely unaware of your plan. “Wrath is an interesting emotion, one that can cause everything else to burn brighter. He will get over this soon. But until then, it is best that you stay away. His self control is not infallible.”
His concern is noted, but also unneeded. Even though Satan is the Avatar of Wrath, you trust him. More than you’ve ever trusted anyone in your entire life. And the very self control that Lucifer claims to be imperfect is the reason why. Satan won’t hurt you. He can’t.
...Well, not in the ways that matter. There won’t be any broken bones or copious amounts of blood; of that you’re certain. Even if this plan goes downhill, you’ll live. Satan may be a demon, but he’s also your demon.
So you have nothing to lose.
You nod along to the rest of Lucifer’s lecture. And once the demon leaves, you head towards Satan’s room.
~~~~
He isn’t there. His bedroom. The common room. RAD’s library. For some reason the demon seems particularly elusive now that you want to find him. Figures.
Your stomach lets out a rumble, and with a heavy heart you realize you’ll have to end your search. For now at least. There’s no use looking for him on an empty stomach.
Thankfully the kitchen isn’t far. And your day is absolutely made once you spot the demon rummaging around in it. Satan is opening every cabinet imaginable and emptying it’s contents down his throat. You’ve never seen him this sloppy before. In a way, it’s kinda cute.
A giggle escapes your lips, and Satan immediately whips his body around. His face flushes once he spots you. The demon lets out an awkward cough as he hides an empty bag of chips behind his back. “Good morning.”
It’s late afternoon, not morning at all. But you still decide to humor him. “Good morning to you too. Did you sleep well?”
His face flushes brighter, and he begins to fidget. “Yes! Fine I mean, I slept fine. Sleeping was definitely something that I did.”
“I can tell.”
A pause. Satan’s face has only grown more red. Beads of sweat trickle down his neck. His expression looks pained, and you would give anything to wipe it away. “Are you okay.”
“No.”
His gaze drops to the floor. “I’m…”
He struggles for words, but you gently shush him with one of your fingers. The touch is light, barely even there, yet his entire body shudders all the same. “It’s okay. Lucifer’s already explained everything.”
Satan takes a deep breath, and the empty bag that he was holding falls to the floor. A part of him seems to give in, if only for a moment, as he rests his head on your shoulder. His nose brushes up against your neck.
He breathes in your scent, although you aren’t wearing any perfume. Perhaps it’s a demon thing. The action seems to soothe him, and eventually he collects himself.
Satan pulls away, his face now an impenetrable mask. “The closest equivalent is a heat.”
“You mean like what animals go through?”
Satan nods. “It's a lot like that, although for me things are a little more… complex.”
That’s right. Lucifer mentioned that his other sins take over. Clearly he was struggling with gluttony a moment ago, but pride, greed, envy, lust... It really must be overwhelming, to experience all of that at once. And while you can’t help with most of them; There is one sin on there that you can help him work his way through. One that, if you’re being completely honest, you feel around him quite often.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
The innuendo isn’t lost on him. His breath hitches, and he takes a tiny step back. “You can stay away from me.”
He says that, but he doesn’t try to move away from you when you step closer. His blushing cheeks, the dilated pupils of his eyes; it all gives him away.
“But that’s not what you want, is it?”
Satan scowls. “What I want isn’t important.”
“Of course it is. I know you’re worried but—“
You reach towards him, and he lightly bats your hand away. “Do you think you’re safe?”
A growl. His fist clenches. “You’re not. It’s barely set in, and even now I—“
The door is thrown open. A very familiar demon walks in the kitchen, one whose stomach lets out a rumbling growl. Beel greets the two of you, and immediately opens the refrigerator. It’s completely barren.
The demon frowns. Judging by the guilty look that’s formed on Satan’s face, it isn’t hard to figure out who the culprit is. His heat must have truly been getting to him, if he went and devoured all of Beel’s food as well. Although that’s still somewhat his fault, it’s not something he deserves to be punished over.
So you take a box out of your bag, one with a ribbon wrapped around it, and offer it to Beel with a grin. “I got these tarts from Madam Devian’s. You can have them if you want.”
Beel’s eyes light up. He opens the box, his gaze traveling over each and every tart before landing on your face. “We’ll share them.”
~~~~
When Beel first said that, you would never have pictured him feeding it to you. Yet here the two of you are, brushing your fingers against each other's mouth as you giggle and wipe away crumbs.
Satan didn’t join you, but he has yet to leave the room. Instead he simply stands there. Watching.
You turn towards him and wave a tart in the air. “Do you want any?”
His eyes narrow. “I’m not hungry.”
He says that, but you can feel the hunger in his gaze. It follows your frame, and grows when Beel hand-feeds you another tart. A glow, green and full of envy, is locked onto the two of you. The intensity, the beauty of it all, threatens to set you aflame.
You aren’t trying to make him mad of course. But you get the feeling that it would happen no matter what. Satan is more irritable now, and that becomes incredibly obvious as time goes on. It won’t be long before something sets him off.
Your thoughts are interrupted by one of Beel’s fingers brushing up against your lips. A gasp, soft and light, leaves your mouth. In the distance you can hear some sort of snarl. It sounds like an animal, one who’s just had their territory encroached upon.
Beel’s touch doesn’t linger. He quickly pulls away, and there’s a dollop of cream on his finger. The demon lets out a satisfied hum as he plops it into his mouth. “Thanks.”
As if he asked you for permission. Still, you can’t help but chuckle. “You’re welcome.”
More tarts flow between the two of you. There are more in this box then you thought, definitely too many to finish on your own. Beel presses another one to your lips, and laughs. “You’ve got some on your nose this time.”
And that, apparently, was the final straw.
Beel’s hand reaches out to touch you, but Satan is quicker. He growls and grabs Beel’s arm, his claws clinching into the fabric. For a split second, you could have sworn that his eyes started to glow even brighter. “I’ll get it.”
Beel frowns. “Satan—“
You place your hand over Satan’s, and the demon drops Beel’s arm in favor of holding onto you instead. Your fingers intertwine, but Satan’s glare doesn’t waver.
Still, you do your best to reassure Beel with a smile. “It’s fine.”
He doesn’t seem to believe you, not completely at least. Yet none of that matters. Satan is already determined to have every bit of your attention. “Look at me.”
It’s a command, and once your eyes meet everything stills. Satan’s breath hitches. A layer of tension blankets the room. He leans in, and for a brief moment you think he’s going to kiss you. But his lips never make contact.
A pause, and then you feel one of his fingers brush up against your nose. He steps back and plops the digit into his mouth. Something about the act seems… lewd. You automatically turn to Beel instead. “Are you okay?”
Beel nods. “I’m fine.”
His gaze travels over to Satan, who already seems to be staring at him with the intent to kill. It then lands on you. “I think you should stay with me tonight. It’d be safer.”
“Belphie already takes up enough room in your bed as is. Besides, I have a lock.” It’s not a lock you plan on using, but it does exist.
“That won’t deter him. It barely deters me.”
“What do you mean?”
Beel’s eyes widen, and then he lets out a flustered cough. “I still get nightmares sometimes, and having you near helps me feel better. ...I think it’s because you’re so sweet. You chase all of the bad dreams away.”
Your heart melts in response. It’s only natural to abandon Satan’s hand in favor of wrapping your arms around Beel, to assure him that everything’s going to be okay. He always goes out of his way to protect the people around him, but who is there to look out for him in return? “I can stay with you tonight if you want.”
Beel glances at his older brother before letting out a sigh. “No. I think I’ll be fine for now. Just call me if Satan starts bothering you.”
“I will. But I expect you to do the same if you have another nightmare.”
He grins. “I can do that. And thanks for the tarts.”
“Anytime!”
The moment Beel leaves the kitchen, Satan’s grip around your hand tightens. It doesn’t hurt, but the message is clear. You aren’t going anywhere.
His expression looks neutral. Measured. The mask is back on once more. “Before you leave, can you come with me? I believe you left one of your books in my room.”
It’s all a formality, but you nod your head. There is a small chance that Satan is telling the truth, although you highly doubt it. All of your textbooks and novels are safe in your room. It’s clearly a ploy to get the two of you alone. But that idea doesn’t bother you as much as it should. You trust him after all.
So you allow Satan to escort you to his bedroom, where the two of you will finally be alone.
~~~~
To your complete surprise, one of your books is actually there, although it’s one you had forgotten about. You lent him one of your favorite ages ago, when he had mentioned that he wanted to read more literature from the human world.
It’s a story you had read dozens of times, but it’s not one you read anymore. You no longer have the time, and even then you’ve grown so much since then. So perhaps it’s only natural to place the book back into Satan’s arms. “You can keep it.”
There’s something comforting about giving it to him. Although Satan has dozens of books, each and every one of them is looked after and held in perfect condition. He treats them with kindness, as if they were made from glass. In comparison to his strength, they probably are. Your book, one of your greatest treasures, will be loved under his care.
Satan’s eyes widen, and he gasps when your hands meet. His Adam’s apple bobs. A thank you leaves his lips, the gratitude rolling off of him in waves. He clutches it to his chest, and seems to breathe in its scent. Or maybe he’s smelling you again. Who knows?
After a second or two he perks up. “Allow me to give you one of mine in return. Anything from the second shelf to your right is free for you to take.”
You feel his eyes watch you as you wander off to look at the bookshelf in question. There’s one, a title that catches your eye. You reach up to grab it, and falter for a moment when you feel his gaze practically caress your ass.
This is fine. You take a deep breath in order to calm your racing heart, and grab a book from one of the top shelves. Once you flip through the pages, it becomes incredibly clear that you’ve grabbed a children’s book. Given the title, that’s not a surprise. The Cupcake Knight and the Fallen Kingdom.
The Knight is indeed a gigantic cupcake, one with big googly eyes and multiple limbs. The artwork is vivid and fun. You laugh as you turn another page, and notice that the fallen kingdom is nothing more than a gigantic wedding cake. “Beel would love this.”
Satan is by your side in an instant. He snarls, and smacks the book out of your hands. It falls to the floor unharmed and closed shut. The demon, needless to say, looks upset. “I didn’t realize you and Beel were so close.”
His flushing cheeks, the anger that has tensed his shoulders and made him look at you with nothing more than a glare; it all points to one thing. He’s jealous.
You can’t help but roll your eyes. Satan has nothing to be jealous over. There is only one demon in the Devildom that’s stolen your heart, and that’s him. You love his brothers, that’s true. But you love Satan in an entirely different way.
One that has you comfortably chilling in his bedroom while he’s in heat, on the off chance that you might get railed. “I enjoy hanging out with him, but we’re just friends. You know that.”
Satan doesn’t seem to believe you. “Do I?”
He draws closer. You take several steps back, and are surprised to find yourself bumping into his bed. There’s nowhere to run. Satan has you trapped. The arousal begins to make your brain fog, especially once the distance between the two of you finally closes.
His nose sniffs at your neck. “His stench is all over you. You were eating out of the palm of his hand. And from the way he was looking at you…”
He whispers the words against your throat. “You would have been eaten, then and there.”
He presses a kiss along your pulse. A shiver runs through your spine as his mouth travels down lower. “But the only one who will be eating you is me.”
A growl. “You’re mine.”
And then his teeth sink into the junction between your shoulder and neck. It’s painful, but not overwhelmingly so. The wound is incredibly shallow. A gasp falls from your lips, one that quickly morphs into a moan once he begins licking the tiny droplets of blood that’ve sprung forth.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. The words are whispers against your skin, alongside the dozens of hickeys that he’s starting to pepper it with.
He’s desperate. You can tell from how he clings to you, and from the way his breath hitches when your hands glide over the tent in his pants. Satan growls, and then pushes you down on his bed.
He’s hovering over you now, face flushed and a ravenous gleam in his eye. Yet there’s something else there, a tiny pinprick of doubt that is all too familiar to you. He’s afraid. Whether it’s of his own feelings or it’s the possibility that he might hurt you, you can’t be sure. But even like this, Satan summons up one last desperate attempt to push you away “I need you to stop me. Tell me that I’m a monster, and that you want me to leave.”
That’s the last thing you want him to do
“Satan, I want you to fuck me.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath. Satan’s grip on you tightens.
You reach out, and caress his cheek. “I don’t want anyone else other than you.”
And with that last sentence, Satan finally breaks. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, one that takes you by surprise. The demon already seems determined to explore every inch of you with his tongue. But you have absolutely no problem with that.
Your hands tangle themselves in his hair, and his tail wraps around your waist, tugging you closer together. One of his fangs nicks your lip, and the moment your blood hits his tongue, he moans.
“Fuck.” His voice sounds completely wrecked. Buttons fly everywhere. Your entire uniform is absolutely ruined. Yet you don’t care, especially when Satan’s mouth travels down lower, and he gently pushes your legs apart. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you.”
You’re unable to smother a curse of your own once he starts mouthing the wet fabric of your underwear. Your hands make their way to his hair, and you tug at the strands once another wave of pleasure runs through you.
He eventually tugs at the barrier separating him from his goal, but it doesn’t budge. Before you can lift up your hips in order to help him, you hear a piece of elastic snap. Satan had bitten into one of the straps of your underwear, tearing it in half. The garment falls to the floor. With your cunt and your entire body now exposed before him, he gets to work.
Satan leaves a mark on your thigh before his lips brush up against your core. He lets out a pleased him once he tastes you, and dives right in.
He immediately focuses on your clit. His tongue moves around in random patterns, which has you moaning his name. The pleasure is almost too much to handle. You knew that you’d be experiencing it of course, but you didn’t expect Satan to be so focused on it. Especially given his current condition.
But the demon eats you out as if he can’t get enough. As you are the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. Satan groans into you, and the vibrations from that act alone are enough to send you over the edge.
You tighten your hands in his hair, and cum. Satan laps up each and every drop. And when he pulls away, you see him lick his lips. “You taste even better then I imagined.”
He’s beautiful like this. With his inhibitions cast aside, and pupils dilated. But he would look even more breathtaking without any clothes.
His boa fell off a long time ago, and you pathetically paw at the ribbon on his chest. The knot is too complex, and only seems to tighten as you tug on it. You’ve never hated the damned thing more than you do now.
A frustrated whine spills from your lips, one that Satan quickly smothers with a kiss. There’s a rip, followed by the sound of something tearing, and Satan’s entire outfit lays in tatters across the floor.
It seems he did all of the work for you.
His fingers start to skim over his handiwork, before they poke and prod at your entrance. Several of them slide in, and you immediately moan. It didn’t take long for him to find the spot that he was looking for. He looks like the cat that got the cream (which he technically did, about a minute ago). His smug grin only grows wider when you begin to grind into his fingers. And then, he fucks you with them.
You gasp and claw at the sheets. The demon’s pace is ruthless, yet it isn’t enough. You want him. And while his fingers are nice… you’d rather be cumming around something else.
“Please, I need—“ It comes out as a whine, needy and high pitched. But Satan seems to listen to you. For a brief and horrible moment, you're empty. Your thighs and your pussy clench around nothing.
Thankfully you don’t have to finish your sentence from before. The two of you are on the same page. He lines up his cock, and then eases himself inside of you.
It’s slow, but he fills you up perfectly. As if he were made to do so. Another inch, and Satan groans into your shoulder. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”
Words fail you right now. The most you can do is dig your nails into his back. There’s no pain, only a sense of ease. As if you are two puzzle pieces finally sliding into place.
He bottoms out, and everything stills. Satan is big, but not overwhelmingly so. It’s enough to make you feel full, more full then you’ve ever felt in your entire life.
His cock is everything you could have dreamed of, and more.
No toy, nothing you own, will ever be able to satisfy you like this. The ridges… the shape… You move, and feel every bit of him gently scrape against your walls. It’s too much. Your legs already feel weak.
You whine out his name, and he immediately takes the lead. His hands intertwine themselves with your own as he pins you to the bed. He thrusts his hips forward, and his cock brushes up against that spot from earlier. Pure pleasure. Pure euphoria. The bed frame shakes.
Everything about this is amazing. Perfect. And the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.
“I love you.”
Satan stills, and for a split second you worry that you’ve scared him off. But that doubt vanishes immediately with another thrust, this one harder than the last.
You gasp. Your hands twitch in a desperate attempt to move them, to drag Satan’s body closer towards you, but he still has you restrained. He growls into your ear, “Again.”
The only thing that leaves your mouth is a garbled moan. Satan pulls back, and pushes himself into you once more. “Tell me that again.”
And you do. The words spill out of your mouth, over and over in a never ending loop. I love you.
Satan doesn’t respond, not with words at least. He can’t. The only thing he can produce is growls and moans, both of which send shivers down your spine. And there’s another noise, a low and rumbling sound that spills out of his throat. You’re able to put a name to it a second later. It’s a purr. Satan is purring. And it gets louder with each and every thrust. With each and every declaration of love that escapes your lips.
He cums, and his teeth sink into your shoulder. The wound isn’t deep, but the brief flicker of pain combined with the feeling of him filling you up is enough to make you climax as well.
And once you’ve come down from your high, you can feel Satan’s tongue lightly trace over the mark in question.
A contented sigh escapes your lips. “I love you.”
The words are softer now, but it still has Satan blushing all the same. He buries his head into your chest. It’s muffled, quiet, but you can feel his response as he mumbles it against your skin. “I love you too.”
He’s still purring, and that sound grows louder when your hands tangle themselves in his hair. After a moment for two, you feel something hard poke your thigh. It isn’t difficult to figure out what it is. Apparently Satan isn’t quite done with you yet.
You laugh. “Still in heat, are you?”
He frowns, and then towers over you once more, his eyes blown with lust. The demon’s gaze travels across your body, along each and every mark that he’s made. There’s a smugness in the way his fingers begin to skim over them.
“Didn’t you know? My heat can last for weeks at a time. I’ll take care of you of course, but I hope you don’t have any plans coming up soon.”
His voice lowers. It’s more than just a sultry purr. It’s a promise, one that has you wet with anticipation. “You won’t be leaving this bed for a while.”
#obey me#omnsfw#minors dni#obey me satan#satan x reader#satan x mc#the reader is gender neutral#afab!reader#my writing!
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Hello and congrats on the 100 milestone! Can you do prompt #19 for Midorima? 😁
MAN OH MAN IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME BUT I’M FINALLY BACK, TSYM for being here since the beginning, i rlly rlly appreciate it <333 so HERES SOME FLUFF
Midorima x Reader
19. “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”
Word Count: 3349
prompt list here
»»————— ☼ —————««
“Seriously, are you sure you’re not secretly related to Shin-chan?” Takao shoves another helping of rice into his mouth and you instantly frown at his messy eating habits.
“Takao, it doesn’t hurt to wipe the grains off your cheeks with napkins that the cafeteria always abundantly provides,” you say, not once taking your eyes off of the study guide you compiled for the class final. “And please don’t talk with your mouth open.” You can easily sense Takao groaning before slapping his eyes while leaning back in frustration, but you still carried on in skimming your notes instead.
“And that’s exactly why Shin-chan doesn’t know how to approach you,” he petulantly mumbles. You spared a glance above your packets, not catching his inaudible words.
“Pardon?”
“Never mind,” Takao sighs, settling to childishly stabbing the shrimp tempuras with his chopsticks and popping them into his mouth. “You werdn’t gert it.”
“What did I just say about your eating manners?” You roll your eyes, choosing to brush off his words as you continue to devote your attention to your papers. Takao simply opts to noisily munch on the rest of his lunch while being deep in thought, letting you study in some relative peace. He then gets up, tosses his trash away, and plops back down on his seat, and he props up his chin on his arm, watching you completely engrossed in your own world and figuring out how to exactly figure out his next best course of action.
“Y’know what? Screw this, I’m not getting paid to be a wingman for two difficult people,” he dramatically sighs, purposely trying to get your attention, and it worked. “You might wanna start paying attention to poor Shin-chan before he over thinks himself to death.” Takao does an exaggerated shrug and a shake of his head to emphasize the “seriousness” of the situation. You merely frown.
“You never cease to amaze me with your convoluted words. If you want something from me, just spit it out already.” You reluctantly let down your papers to give him your undivided attention, and Takao leans closer, dropping his voice to a hush.
“Look, I know you see him in a different light from the others,” he whispers conspiringly. “And he does too.” He makes pointer-finger motions in front of him to represent “you” and “Midorima.”
“... This again?” You pinch your nose bridge and release a harsh sigh, but you nonetheless let Takao continue.
“Come on, would it really hurt to do a confession? For someone so blunt and straightforward, you’re really dragging this out for way too long.” Takao frowns at your deadpan expression but continues his little movements with his makeshift “finger puppets.” “Once you”—he takes his left index finger—“and Shin-chan”—he brings his right index closer to his left—“do the chu”— he brings his index fingers together to imply the situation—“I can finally be free from the clutches of Shi—”
“I already told you,” you smoothly interrupt, “that we don’t see each other that way. He’s been a reliable partner in class projects and a very helpful person to share notes with. I’m very certain it’s like that on his end with me too.”
“Why do you sound so disappointed when you say it like that?” Takao slowly grows a shit-eating (yet hopeful) smirk. You scowl at his implications. Takao amusedly notes that you’re way too similar to his best friend.
“There’s no chance that we’ll ever get to that stage… ever. Okay? Satisfied now?”
“So you are disappointed at the possible outcome,” Takao gleefully says, his face showing all signs of plans being concocted in his mind. You completely widen your eyes at your simple slip-up.
“I… it’s not a possible outcome, damn it,” you vehemently insist. “It’s a guarantee.”
“Puh-lease (y/n)-chan, how do you know unless you try it?”
“Alright Takao,” you dryly reply. “Why don’t you try staring directly at the sun first before confirming that you become blind from that?”
“That’s not the same!”
“Same logic,” you huff. “Look, you know Midorima-san more than anyone, and even you know how he thinks. He finds the concept of friends and teammates to be pretty unnecessary, and frankly I can empathize with him. If he finds camaraderie to be a hassle already, dating is already beyond off the table. It takes much more to be a genuine friend to him than your average person, and if I do, by chance, confess, I’d be throwing away everything that I built up with him like an idiot… just being like this with him is more than enough for me. Besides, a relationship isn’t important right now, not when class takes up most of the time.”
“Well, normally yes, but in this specific case, there’s an excep—”
“I already came clean with this,” you say, furrowing your brows. “So can you finally let me study for this class in peace? Obviously, it’s a given for you not to open your mouth to anyone else about this.” With that, you tune out any further noise and burrow yourself into your class materials, and Takao could only sigh as he tries to wrack his brain for another way to play wingman.
“... Seriously, they’re both so stubborn.”
———
“(y/n)-san.”
“Hm?”
You turn around from looking at the bulletin to the person who just addressed you. Midorima stares down at you quite seriously before he promptly clears his throat.
“You’re blocking the way, nanodayo.”
“Ah… I apologize,” you say, immediately stepping closer to the bulletin to clear up the hallway. You turn your face to appear fixated on the bulletin board, but still sensing Midorima staring at you, you reluctantly peek at him from your peripheral vision. “... Is there something else you need, Midorima-san?” Midorima looks at the bulletin board for a moment before he turns back to your face.
“Regarding the group project we were paired to do in chemistry,” he starts, “the teacher praised our work very highly and wants to know if he can use it as an example for future lectures. I’m here to hear your answer on his behalf.”
You mentally sigh from the secretive disappointment. Of course Midorima was here for straightforward business. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, Takao’s words begin flitting through your mind now… of all times.
“Of course he can use it,” you smile. “I think it’s an honor to have our project regarded so highly like that, especially since so much effort was put into it… although… I think you’re the reason why we received such a high score, Midorima-san.” You train your gaze on Midorima, trying to gauge his reaction from the compliment, but he gives no such sign away, not any that you were aware of as far as you were concerned.
“(y/n)-san, I believe your own efforts and work ethic shouldn’t be trivialized,” Midorima replies, briefly closing his eyes and adjusting his frames. “After all, you are the one who made this project a cohesive final product, one that is also comprehensible to other peers in our presentation.”
“Ah… well…” You were definitely thrown in for a loop, not expecting Midorima to compliment you back so openly, albeit probably not for the reasons you were hoping for. “... Thank you, Midorima.” In an attempt to curb your growing flusteredness, you opted to stare at the bulletin board again, pretending to be occupied in reading the pinned papers.
“... Right.” Midorima softly clears his throat. “I’ll be taking my leave back to the faculty office. It was good talking to you.”
He swiftly turns around and walks back in the direction he came from, and when you were certain that he was walking judging from his footsteps, you turn your head to stare at his back before averting your gaze.
You frown once he exits out of your sight as you ponder about his particular diction.
“It was good talking to you”? Had Midorima ever said that to anyone before? You sigh to yourself and pinch your nose bridge to chastise yourself. Takao was right; you might’ve fallen a little too hard for the reserved individual, but even still, a relationship isn’t something you wanted to actively chase after.
Amidst your dilemma, you were completely unaware that Takao watched the entire exchange, holding back his laughter from seeing you uncharacteristically look like an absolute love-stricken fool. He got too much of a kick out of seeing the both of you trying to flirt… and an even bigger kick when he saw Midorima turning around to briefly “discreetly” stare at you while you were having your inner monologue.
———
“Takao, I’m having none of your bullshit today.” Midorima simply scowls as he prepares to leave the main building to the gym. Takao merely tags along while taunting him in a sing-song voice.
“Come onnn,” Takao insists, slapping Midorima’s back a little too harshly. “You said it yourself didn’t you? Favorable outcomes come to those who prepare the most. Don’t lie, I know you’ve been planning to naturally bump into our (y/n)-chan in different scenarios. Like yesterday in the hall—”
“You knew?!” Midorima jumps out of his skin to shoot an accusatory look at him, but Takao merely struggles to hold back a snicker at his reaction.
“Shin-chan, how hard is it to say three specific little words to someone else?” Takao sends a frustrated look. “You’ve always gone the extra mile to prepare your lucky items, read the Oha Asa predictions, and do little rituals not just for yourself but also for (y/n)-chan too, yet you don’t want to do a simple thing like confessing?”
“A confession isn’t that simple,” he retorts. “It can alter my fate for potentially worse if I’m not prepared.”
“Jeez, only you can take this so seriously,” Takao sighs, which only earned him a withering look from Midorima’s end. “But then again, it’s nice that you see it as something serious… but when are you actually gonna do it?” His response was only silence, as if he didn’t really give much thought about it until it was brought up now.
“That’s none of your concern.”
“Oh come on, Shin-chan!”
“To be honest,” he says, stopping in place. “The horoscope says that Cancers would be rejected by signs like of (y/n)-san’s, much less be compatible. Predictions state that such relationships between the two would be troublesome.”
“Okay, Shin-chan,” Takao says, patting Midorima’s shoulder. “I know I constantly joke about this Oha Asa and this entire thing with (y/n)-chan, but”—he stops when he sees Midorima giving him another scathing look—“even if the horoscopes state it so, it’s like you said: favorable outcomes come to those who do the most. If you did everything you could, I see no reason to be scared. Plus, you have me to help you.”
“... It’s not that. Part of this is beyond what I can do to prepare. Whatever I do will not influence (y/n)-san’s answer, and that is something out of my control.”
“You know, you could just say that you’re nervous.”
“I am not.”
“Well, if you want me to be honest,” Takao says. “I think it’s because the two of you are so eerily similar that you find it hard to approach (y/n)-san. Like, when’s the last time you’ve met someone as serious and stiff as yo—I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Please don’t raise your fist at me!”
“That being said,” he continues, “Just talk to (y/n) like you’ve talked to everyone else. I mean you both always hit it off when you talk together in class.”
“I… suppose…”
“Trust me,” Takao grins, slightly elbowing Midorima’s ribs. “I’d like to think of myself as an accurate guy in ball-passing and in detecting social cues.”
———
You really tried to carry yourself normally.
You really did.
But a part of you is becoming hyper-aware of everything Midorima does, and being your normally collected self is suddenly becoming a lot more difficult. Studying at your own desk is nigh impossible with both Midorima’s words and Takao’s implications running through your mind. Even Midorima, who normally minds his own business, shoots you pensive looks here and there during class, and he approaches you during break after.
“... Your sign is at one of the lowest ranks in luck today… may that be the reason why you’re not being your usual self?” He studies as you pull yourself together.
“Erm… somewhere along the lines, yeah. Most likely woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” you mumble, rubbing your neck to ease the nervousness.
“Is that so…” he says. He pulls out a small toy that was found in the local gachapon down the street. “Ahem… I hear that your lucky item is this today.” He holds it out in front of you, silently waiting for you to take it, and you gently pluck it out of his large hands.
“Well, what about you?” you inquire. “I’m sure you got this toy for a reason, like say… for your own good luck?”
“Well,” he coughs. “I have my own. I am always prepared for such occurrences should things go awry.”
“You’re always so prepared for everything,” you quietly laugh. “Not that it’s a bad thing, though. I do wish I was more like you in that regard.”
“W-Well, I think you have your own admirable traits to be proud of, er…” Midorima slowly turns red and contemplates backtracking on his words. “I-If you excuse me, I must get going for health committee duties, nanodayo.” He heaves his bag on his shoulder as you wave at him, and he lingers there, debating on something that you aren’t sure what it is. “Might you have time afterschool today?”
“Uh… not that I think of,” you reply. “Are you already looking ahead to the next partner assignment?”
“Actually, no… it won’t take much of your time, (y/n)-san. It’s something quick. Can we meet at the vending machines near the gym? I do have practice around that time, so I hope somewhere nearby could suffice for you too.”
“That’s fine with me, because… I feel like I need to tell you something too or I won’t be able to study at this rate, but if you have practice, shouldn’t you be focused on that more?”
“It’s fine. This one takes… a higher priority.” Midorima fixes his glasses and readjusts his grip on his shoulder bag as he ponders about your own words. “If this arrangement is fine with you, I will be seeing you after school.” You only nod as you wave goodbye at him again, and you exhale a long sigh of relief and nervousness once he leaves. You really wonder if telling Midorima that you had something important to tell him was a good move on your part, considering that you can’t backtrack your words on someone as stubborn as him. Takao may or may not have seen Midorima’s attempt in being forward and silently laughed himself to oblivion in the corner of the classroom.
———
“Were you waiting long, Midorima-san?” You briskly jog with your heavy bag to the destined location to see Midorima thumbing through his book before he looks up.
“You are as punctual as always.” He closes his book with a thud and places it in his bag on the bench before he stands up to face you. “Which is always appreciated considering it is not as common in others.”
“I just think it’s common courtesy.”
“Not quite, considering I asked you rather suddenly to meet me here,” he says. “You aren’t obligated to even agree in meeting me, yet here you are on time, just like with our past project sessions.”
“Well… you did say it was important enough that you put practice as a second priority, and I do want to tell you something too.”
“R-Right…”
An awkward silence dominates the exchange after Midorima clears his throat and goes silent as you patiently wait in agony. You eye at his troubled expression, wondering what sort of thing he was going to tell you that got him so worked up. At the same time, you grew slightly antsier, quietly tapping a foot or rubbing your neck, and you wonder if Midorima was actually waiting for you to say something first.
“I… I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me.”
“I-I believe I may have developed feelings akin to attraction for you.”
“Uh…”
“Ahem…”
Both of you stare at each other in unadulterated surprise.
“... You… like me?” Midorima murmurs, his eyes still full blown in shock.
“L-Likewise,” you reply, opting to stare at Midorima’s bag on the bench instead. Another awkward silence ensues as both of you take in each other’s sudden words and Midorima clears his throat again.
“... Why are you afraid of liking me?” Midorima restores his composure, staring at your flustered state with furrowed brows, thinking that he somehow made you uncomfortable at some point throughout the year.
“Wait… no! That’s not what I meant!” you say, mildly shaking your head. “Uh, let me rephrase that…” Midorima silently watches you as you continue. “Well, you weren’t the person to have romance in your mind, let alone have feelings, let alone for me, and… my friendship with you is something that I treasure, and I don’t want to hinder you with such things that can make you uncomfortable in being around me. That was why I was afraid, although I’ve been in denial about it until recently.”
“I see.”
“And um, I thought that confessing to you would end the friendship we had.”
“... Likewise.” Midorima uses your word against you with an upward curl of his lip. It almost seems like he was teasing you. You grow redder at his response, but he continued. “I suppose the lucky item I gave you provided the most favorable outcome for the day.” You only nod as you processed everything that just happened in a few moments, and both of you went quiet again.
“...”
“...”
“So…”
“... I’m not sure what to do next,” Midorima frowns. “I wasn’t prepared for this particular situation, nanodayo.” You only smile at his own flusters.
“Well…” you say. “We could date, but I don’t think that’s important right now, considering that we still have to focus on school… I mean unless you want to, then we can try to make it work?”
“Ahem, while I do think these things are quite frivolous,” he says. “I suppose we can learn to balance our relationship with other aspects of our lives accordingly.”
“I would like that,” you smile, walking to approach closer to Midorima. “Could we… um, hold hands? If you’re not into that though, that’s okay.” He says nothing in response but his hand slowly reaches out for your own to gently clasp, and closes his eyes in bliss before he opens them to look at you.
“... I must go to practice soon. It’s almost time.”
“I see,” you mumble. “If that’s the case, I’ll be inside the library to cram in extra lectures.” You pull your hand away to separate, but he holds you tighter. “Midorima?”
“... I’ll walk you there, nanodayo.” He peers over your face to gauge any objections on your end, but when he finds none, he gently tugs you along as you both walk to the building next-door.
“I never knew you were into hand-holding.”
“N-Not really,” he quietly says, his ears turning red.
“Actually,” you say, bringing Midorima’s attention back to you in light of the topic change. “I need to thank Takao tomorrow… he’s the one who pushed me to confess.”
“Hmph,” he scoffs. “I do suppose that the idiot has some merits to his words.”
“I do now see what he means when he keeps insisting that we’re too alike in personality and preferences.”
“That just means we’re more compatible than what fate initially predicted, nanodayo.”
“You checked the horoscopes for relationship compatibility? Never would I have thought that such things occupied your mind, Midorima…”
“Urk—That’s…”
#knb x reader#knb#knb scenarios#knb fic#knb fics#midorima x reader#midorima shintarou#midorima shintaro#midorima shintarou x reader#knb fluff#100 followers#100 follower milestone
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Practical Magic

Summary: AU Practical Magic w/ Henry Cavill x Sally Owens. The Owens family is a fun family, witchy family, but also a cursed family; the men they fall in love with are doomed to an untimely death.
Author’s note: I rewatched the movie for the gazillionth time, and felt like writing something based on it. Witchy ways are my guilty pleasure, so.. get ready for some true love spells.❤️
Word count: 2.859
Disclaimer: magic and super natural activites, love potions and curses. Smidge of angst and alcohol use. And did I say fluff? There’s plenty-a-fluff.
--
Practical Magic
--
‘So will you marry me now?’ Henry teased, kissing Sally on the cheek. Sally playfully pouted.
‘You leave me no choice! Look at that grass! Just..’ She dramatically outstretched her hands as if he just performed the greatest deed ever. ‘..would you look at that Kal!’ The large akita couldn’t be bothered to look up as he lay on the freshly mown grass, his large maw chewing on a dog bone. Sally continued: ‘Look. At. That. I have never seen such perfectly cut grass in..my..’
Henry looped his arms around her waist and raised an eyebrow as Sally’s attention wavered. ‘Yes dear?’ He smiled.
Sally's eyes widened as she watched something move behind Henry’s back.
‘Gilly!?’ She gasped.
‘SALMON!’ Another voice responded.
Before Henry could see Sally’s sister Gillian step through the garden gate, Sally had already escaped his arms. With a bound of squeals and laughter the sisters flew into each other’s arms. Dark brown and red hair mingled as the wind lipped around with equal joy. Years it had been. And here they were, reunited.
‘Gillian.’ He whispered, slightly defeated. The fiery Owens sister somehow always brought bad news with her, and though she was ever the lovely thing, he couldn’t help but feel it was a bad omen that she had returned after her “greatest adventure of her entire life”.
What about his greatest adventure of his entire life? With a sigh he turned his lips up in a smile, waiting for the ginger gem of a woman to fly into his arms too.
‘OOPH! Look at how you have GROWN!’ Gillian unwrapped herself from his stiff embrace and smiled with childlike joy.
‘Why..thank you Gillian.’ Henry grunted.
‘Oh please!’ She laughed and poked his arm.
‘Now, where’s my two favourite nieces of the whole wide world?!’
‘At school.’ Sally smiled. ‘But I’m sure they can’t wait to hear that their favourite aunty has returned so...’ Sally’s eyes quickly flitted towards Henry.. ‘..soon.’
--
The day was filled with bouncing-off-the-walls children and an even more excited Gillian. Stories were there in abundance, and for a moment Sally and Henry wondered if ever she’d shut up. Well she did, eventually. The long trip from Los Angeles had finally managed to tame the feisty maiden and after a round of shots - which were truly necessary according to Gillian - Gillian headed for bed.
��Wew.’ Henry settled back on a kitchen chair after he finished the last of the dishes.
‘You can say that.’ Sally yawned, shaking her head in disbelief, also settling down. ‘She didn’t even text me.’
‘You think she’s in trouble?’
‘My sister?’ Sally chuckled. ‘Always.’
Henry leaned forward and reached for Sally’s hands that lay atop the oak table. Here in this cute small rural home he still always seemed a little out of place with his hunky chunk, dream boat physique. And yet he was still very much here, father to her children. The self-labeled “average girl” Sally couldn’t believe it.
With hesitant fingers she wrapped her hands around his.
‘You don’t want her to stay.’
Henry shook his head. ‘I’m not saying that. I’m just...maybe..we need some ground rules.’
Sally nodded. ‘I guess we do.’
‘Something the matter sweetie? You’ve been so quiet all day?’
‘No, nothing. It’s...’ Sally shrugged and looked at their interlocked hands. For a moment she wondered what would trigger it. The thing. The goddamned curse that she knew was lurking. For a few years she had nearly forgot. But then came Gillian and she was reminded again that she wasn’t entirely normal. That this couldn’t be.
And Henry didn’t know.
‘It’s nothing.’
--
The next day Henry woke to an empty bed, leaving him the time to yawn and stretch with the knowledge that Sally had taken the morning turn for breakfast and school prep for the kids.
But no more was true. With a loud yelp and whine heard from the garden, Henry shot up from the bed. It was Kal. And Kal rarely made such noises. With a leap and bound Henry rushed to the window, hands pulling open the curtains.
Down on the lawn, a red headed woman waved her hands about like she was dancing. Gillian. But even more interesting was Kal bouncing up and down on the grass, trying his best to reach something that..that.. Henry focused his vision a little better. It floated. The goddamn dog bone was floating.
Henry blinked and yet it still was there until Sally came storming out the house and the bone fell like gravity had found its course again.
The glass of the window muddled the sounds, but from the way Sally was pounding into Gillian with an accusative hand, Henry realised one thing; he was right. He was right all along. All those years, he knew something was a little off. The dishes were always done too fast when it was Sally’s turn. And though nobody ever touched the cloth iron, nothing everything wrinkled. And the roses. The goddarn impossibly perfect roses that Sally never seemed to touch with one hand. Neighbours had commented on it so often, he had to come up with the most ridiculous of excuses.
Was it...was this..? He saw the women look up at his window and he waved at them awkwardly. Sally frowned and Gillian waved excitedly.
..something like magic?
--
Sally avoided him like the plague, and yet she knew she had to get this conversation over with sooner than later. Henry wasn’t a fool. And the way he had tried to get a word in after breakfast before leaving for work, made her know that she had to talk to him.
She hated it.
The whole situation was anything but “practical”, like her aunts so dearly would call it. Magic was giving her a plain old headache as she stood here in her sunroom, tending to her African Violets. The late afternoon sun was hot and outside she saw Gillian stretched out on a blanket, a book holding her fickle attention for the moment.
Why was Gillian even here? Even with all the chatter going on last night, not a word was spelled on why. Why, why, why!
A wet nose planted itself in her elbow and with a little gasp she awoke from her daydream. It was Kal. Henry’s trusty four-pawed friend, meaning Henry had likely returned from grocery shopping.
‘I’m home!’ - yep, there he was.
Sally bit her lip and gave in. It was time for the talk. With silent steps she traced back to the kitchen where a truckload of paper bags stood, the food within them ready to be unloaded into the pantry and kitchen cabinets.
Bent over one of them was Henry, his eyes clearly trying their best to not look at Sally directly.
Sally halted in the doorway. ‘Hey.’
Henry looked up as if surprised. ‘Hey you.’ A sweet smile formed on his lips - ever the actor.
Sally wet her lips and looked at Henry’s hands as they fumbled just the way they always did when he was nervous or stressed. The paper bag beneath his touch crumpled.
‘Ugh...’ She let her shoulders droop, knowing there was no way out of this. ‘I don’t even know where to begin.’ With a sweep of the hand she made a few of the bags float up in the air. Henry blinked, but tried to hold his surprise as he raised to his feet. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he watched the bags float before him mid-air.
‘Are you going to kill me now?’ He swallowed.
‘What?!’ Sally gasped. ‘NO! No-no-no-no-no.’ With hasted steps she got closer to Henry and pushed the bags to gently drop down on the kitchen counter next to Henry. It was like they had never floated mid-air at all.
He leaned back against the kitchen cabinets, but didn’t flee. With a gentle hand Sally touched his chest. Could she get rid of him before he too would find his untimely death? She looked at where her fingers slightly sank into the soft grey material of his tee. ‘No..’ She whispered.
‘Please tell me that was some fancy little trick with strings and..’ Henry folded a hand over hers and squeezed it slightly.
‘Eh..yea..no.’ Sally scrunched up her nose as if tasting a sour fruit. ‘Unfortunately.. it’s not that. It’s..’ She finally dared to look back up into his eyes. His blue eyes were the size of saucers, yet there also spoke some quiet plea of hope there.
‘Did you ever use it on me?’
Sally immediately shook her head. ‘No. I did not. Please! I never wanted this to get in between us. I...I don’t know why I never..never..’ Her eyes teared up slightly as the whole situation seemed to fall down upon itself.
He would die, wouldn’t he? She could feel it in her nervously fluttering heart. It had been fluttering more and more of late - especially when he teased about marriage.
‘I’ll never fall in love Gilly. That, I swear.’
‘But what if you do?’
‘I can’t. I just swore it!’
Gillian chuckled and shook her pigtailed head, legs hanging from the garden swing. ‘Then I swear that you’ll do!’
‘Sal?’ Henry waved a hand before her eyes.
‘Yea! I’m here. I’m here.’ Half-automatically she turned to pick up groceries.
‘Sally look at me.’
Sally turned back to him.
‘Is it ..magic--?’
‘HEyyyyy there you two are. Oh look at ALL THAT FOOD.’ Gillian gasped. With the clip of slippered feet she waltzed into the kitchen. A pair of sunglasses was tipped off her nose as she smiled down at the groceries. ‘I know just what we’re going to cook tonight!’ Gillian exclaimed.
Sally rolled her eyes and turned to look at her sister.
‘What?’ Gillian asked, as if completely unaware she was intruding.
Sally wiped away a stray tear on her cheek. ‘Mom’s soup?’ she sniffled.
Gillian stepped in and wrapped her arms around Sally and Henry, squeezing them until they were all cozied up in the small kitchen corner. ‘Oh I missed you all so much!’
Sally sighed and also wrapped an arm around her sister, her eyes just managing to find Henry’s behind the waving sea of red locks that had pushed in between the two of them.
‘Later.’ She mouthed.
Henry bit his lip, but remained quiet. He had just found out his loving partner of four years was a ..witch? Wizardess? What would he even call her? With hesitant eyes he looked at the bags that stood dormant on the kitchen counter. No strings were there to be seen.
This. Was. Real.
--
‘Alright.’ Gillian plopped back down on the couch. She looked truly smug with her self-satisfied little smile. ‘Told you. Fifteen minutes and they’re down. Snug as bugs in fluffy little rugs.’
Sally peeked at Henry, who sat up from his chair in the corner of the small living room. A small fire was lit in the fireplace and glasses of red wine littered the coffee table. It felt perfectly homely, were it not for there to be one ginormous elephant to float around in the room.
‘Will the girls be able to do it too?’ Henry hesitantly shifted his gaze from Sally to Gillian. Gillian raised her eyebrows.
‘Get their children to sleep in fifteen? Maybe..’
‘No..’ Sally interjected. ‘Gil...he saw. I told you he saw it. He..he knows.’
‘What?!’
‘I told you not to and..’
They both looked at Henry, who reached for his wine glass. Even after reading fantasy books all his life, it was still very, very unnerving to have two witchy women right here before him. What could they even do?
‘Well he didn’t run yet.’ Gillian snickered and also reached for her wineglass.
‘Do I need to?’ Henry tried to smile, but Sally saw it didn’t reach his eyes. He was one nervous boy. Kal, on the other hand was one sleepy boy. Right before Henry’s feet lay the sleeping Akita, softly snoring as the logs in the fireplace crackled.
The two sisters shared a look.
Henry turned his full attention to Sally. ‘Do I?’
‘I-I don’t want you to.’ Sally shook her head and new tears started to form.
‘Oh no...please don’t cry.’ Gillian scrunched up her face and watched as Henry moved to Sally in two strides, his thumbs finding her tears before they could tumble don’t her cheeks.
‘Hey. Don’t cry. I’m not mad, okay? Confused yes, but..’ He ushered her to scoot to the side on the loveseat and he squeezed himself right next to her. ‘..I’m sure we’ll get through it. Hey love. Sshh..’
‘I’m sorry. It’s just..so stupid.’ Sally sniffled and quickly wiped away another tear.
Gillian watched as the two lovers hugged the tears away and with large gulps of her wine she soon was some two full glasses ahead. It was then she decided they needed something better. Something stronger.
‘I’ve got an idea!’ She exclaimed, jumping up from her chair and moving to the large cabinet in the far corner. With a knowledgeable hand she moved over the upper right edge, and surely enough she found the key that led to the booze that was hidden inside.
‘Gotcha!’ She grinned, swinging open the door and grabbing for a large bottle of gin. ‘Tonic in the freezer?’ She asked, rushing past while placing the bottle on the table.
Sally blinked and wished to sit up, but Henry stopped her. ‘Just let her. It’s probably a very good idea. Brew me one of your love potions or something.’
Sally pouted and playfully poked his arm. ‘Don’t joke about that.’
‘So you DID use a love potion on me, hmm?’
‘What? No! Absolutely not. Which is perhaps why I’m still a bit confused to why you like me so much.’
Henry smiled and wiped a bit of hair out of her face. ‘But will our kids be able to do it too..you think?’
Sally looked into his eyes. If the curse continued on: definitely yes. They’d practise magic. And he would die. This beautiful blue eyed man with his rough-gentle hands and his impeccable lawn mowing skills. He would..find that untimely death.
‘Maybe, maybe not.’ Sally mumbled, looking up as Gillian returned with a tray full with glasses filled with icecubes and a bottle of tonic.
‘Let’s do this!’ She cheered.
--
Hours passed. Drinks were drunk. Smiles were shared. And as Sally felt rosiness tease her cheeks, she saw Henry study Gillian.
‘Say Gil - Gillian.’
Gillian looked up.
‘What would make this woman next to me fall in such deep love that she’d marry me?’
Gillian laughed a touch too loud. ‘Oh Henry. You’re a funny one. You do know love potions wear off right?’
‘I don’t.’
‘But then there’s of course the curse and..’
Sally stiffened but Gillian laughed on. Henry had no idea this was no longer some silly joking about.
Gillian continued. ‘Man even I have to suffer for it. You know I met this great guy in LA. The best. And..fuck Sal.’ She looked at Sally who still sat curled up with Henry on the loveseat.
‘I think I love him.’
‘You do.’ Sally said quietly. Little cogs and wheels started to turn in her head and Henry finally caught on.
‘Is that why you won’t marry me? A curse?’ His voice remained light due to the excessive alcohol that had lightened their spirits, but his eyes were still sharp. Sally sat up a bit and looked into his eyes.
‘Yea. Or I think it is.’
‘You can lift curses right?’ Henry asked.
‘So I was thinkin!’ Gillian interjected. ‘So I was reading a bit. Yea I know. Paint me surprised - The one and only Gillian Owens.. reading. Ha! But.. Sal I think there’s a way.’ Gillian pushed off her chair and nearly toppled over on her unsteady legs. But, after a tiny swerve she managed to get to Sally and Henry, where she squatted down, one palm turned up towards Sally’s face.
‘Remember this?’
A thin scar ran over her palm, which was similar to the scar that was there on Sally’s palm. With a raised eyebrow, Sally also turned up her palm. ‘Sure.’
Gillian’s lips slowly turned up into a wide grin.
‘What?’ Sally asked. She didn’t catch what Gillian meant.
‘Oh bloody hell.’ Henry grumbled. ‘Do you need my blood for this too or what?’
Gillian smiled at him. ‘Would you do that for love?’
‘What? NO! GIL! You can never use humans under influence!’ Sally shot up, but Gillian already sat back.
‘I know you silly Sally. But I’ve been reaching out to the aunties with my ideas and I think..just maybe..’ She looked at one of the windows where a near full moon shone. ‘Hallow’s eve this year, might be spectacularly practical.’
Sally looked back at her palm and then Henry.
Not even after all this ridicule and weirdness had he flinched an inch. Instead he smiled. Truly this time. Even his eyes.
‘So you want to be with a weird witch like me for the rest of your days huh?’
‘I’d be cursed if I wouldn’t.’ He smiled, and kissed her sweetly.
--
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#henry cavill fanfiction#practical magic#practical magic au#henry cavill x sally owens#owens sisters#witchy fic#let me indulge a little
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I’m Sorry - (10/?)
Anime: Kuroko no Basuke Pairing: Aomine Daiki x reader Rating: K+ A/N: I went back and re-read the previous chapters. And I realize I gave myself loop-holes by accident.. (WHOOPS) I’m hoping this chapter clears a couple of them.. It’s told in Aomine’s view as well as reader’s, so I hope I did it justice.. I think there’s only going to be two or three chapters left?? I had thought of doing a mini series to this story.. With ideas I WANTED to write but didn’t go with the flow of the story.. But we will see how it pans out.. Enough of my rambling, here’s the next chapter!
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When you walked back into Aomine's life, he remembers it was a clear blue sky.
Satsuki had been rambling on about something, school or what club she should join... He doesn't remember the vague details. He would give the occasional nod, to let her know he was listening. But honestly, his mind was only on one thing.
Basketball.
Perhaps it was a bit of wishful thinking on his part, but he was hoping you would be attending Teiko... And join the basketball team. In his heart, Aomine wishes he was able to practice with you on the courts. Aomine curses his inability to talk with you, to keep you on those courts just a little bit longer. He may have protected you from those bullies, but he couldn't muster the courage to get your number? To even ask if you would be coming back? He lets out a grunt when Satsuki nudges his stomach, and after a yawn, looks ahead.
He almost trips when he sees a hair colour similar to yours. His legs move on their own accord, and he takes the steps two at a time, trying to quash the hope bubbling in his chest. When he reaches the top step, he doesn't see you anywhere and starts to wonder if he's going crazy... There's no way you would be here... It would be a dream come true... He shakes away any hope crawling in his mind, running a hand through his hair.
"Aomine-kun?"
He looks back at his best friend, seeing the confusion in her eyes and shrugs. "It's nothing. Let's go."
He trudges forward, unaware of her studying the student lists, spotting that name she knew he was looking for.
___________________________
'You're ____-chan right?'
His breath hitches at the light tone on the other end. He was going to berate Satsuki for calling him during lunch... The words he wanted to say die when he hears your name on the other end... Whether satsuki did this intentionally or not, he doesn't know... but he remains on the line.
Silent and attentive.
'H...How do you...?'
His cheeks start to slowly burn at hearing your voice, and his palms begin to sweat... Shit, if he's not careful, he'll drop his phone and cause unwanted attention on himself... That would be too embarrassing...
"Dating?? No way!! Dai-chan is more like a brother to me! It's a pleasure to meet you _____-chan! I hope you'll help me manage the basketball team!"
Okay... He must have missed a lot of that conversation... Satsuki isn't the type to just jump to the point.. And because of what he's told her about you, he knew there was more of an interrogation.. Too bad he zoned out at the thought of you on the other end... He's such an idiot!
"I look forward to helping the basketball team!!"
And yet, his heart races at hearing your voice exclaim that... Before he could be caught, he hangs up the phone, tossing it in his pocket before burying his face in his arms... Ah.. The good news is, he has a few hours before he sees you once again to collect his thoughts... He lets out a lazy sigh, sitting up to continue with his food... But his stomach begins churning in knots, and thinks twice. He packs his lunch, kicking back in his chair as he looks out the window...
"She thinks me and Satsuki are dating...." he whispers, before letting out a soft chuckle. "Well... She'll be in for a surprise..."
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When he sees you walking into the gym, he had just finished practicing with a few of his teammates.. It takes all his energy to not run to you and throw an arm around your shoulders. He watches as Satsuki introduces you to the three males running the team, patiently waiting for it to end... He can't explain it, but seeing you for the first time in two years... Although he's taller now, you've grown as well. He hopes you've been practicing.. He's itching to play a game against you...
His patience starts to wear thin, and he grips the ball in his hand tighter until you've finished meeting them.. And it's when you take your leave does he find your name leaving his lips.
"_-_____?"
Your head whips around, and the two of you are in a trance. The gym vanishes and it's just the two of you in a completely different world. When you look him up and down, he feels a bit self-conscious, until you give him a smile, the shock vanishing from your beautiful hues. You lift a hand as if to wave at him.
"H..Hi there... Daiki-kun..."
Just like that... When his name hits his ears, it breaks the spell and his lips curl into a big grin. He doesn't see the way your cheeks heat up, or the shock in your eyes at the way he looks at you... No. He's focused on the happiness curling in his gut, exploding in his heart and his feet move on their own accord. He runs at you, swinging an arm around your shoulder as he lets the ball go, ruffling your soft locks..
"Be prepared!! I've gotten stronger!! And I want to face off against you one day!!"
He doesn't notice how your heart leaps in your chest, or the softening of your features... But he does notice the tender gaze in your eyes before that grin curls back on your lips, and a small laugh escapes your throat.
"Y...You've gotten taller, Daiki-kun... But I'll do my best to give you a good match!"
He finds himself letting go of your head, but his hand lingers on your shoulder, studying you with a soft, tender gaze. He never thought about how much taller he was.. But the smile on your lips was genuine, and real... He knew you would give it all you had, just the way you had two years ago, alone on the courts. He gently rubs your back, before letting go to grab the ball, gently passing it to you.
The shock on your face was cute, but it vanished when you realized what he wanted... You shook your head, dribbling the ball as you sized him up with your eyes. "I'll be a little rusty, I haven't really practiced in a few months... But I'll give it everything I got!"
His smile only grew bigger as he got into his defensive stance. "Show me what you can do, _____!"
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It was just after they won their first Nationals... Aomine went looking for you... His blood was boiling beneath his skin, but he hadn't seen you all morning... He just wants to see you.. His legs carry him to the roof, and he sees you there, leaning against the railing. Your eyes were a little dull, a bit misty from a few tears, and his stomach clenches... The door closes, startling you from your thoughts.. He watches as you fluster, embarrassed to be caught in this situation, before rubbing your eyes and turning away. He carefully approaches you, keeping a safe distance away in case you want space.
"I was looking for you..." he whispers, keeping his eyes on the scenery below. His posture is a little slack, but he doesn't know what to say... He just doesn't want to see you cry.
"I'm sorry Daiki.. Did you need something?"
A soft frown curls on his lips at the timid response, and he shakes his head, ruffling his hair. "It's not important." he says, before looking at you.. "Did something happen, ____?"
He watches as your lips curl into a soft frown, before a heavy sigh leaves your lips. "I'll never be able to play beside you... Not the way Tetsu can..." you begin, a little hesitant to explain... But he wants to know what you meant by that... So he urges you with a nod, as if telling you to continue."Satsuki-chan asked the coach and Nijimura-senpai if I could play in the practice matches... Since she's seen my skills, and knows I can lead you guys to victory...:" You pause, clenching the rail. "They wouldn't allow it... Saying something about having a girl on the team would make the other teams laugh at us... Despite seeing what I can do when we play our one-on-ones..." You sigh defeated... "Teiko doesn't have a girl's team either... They decided to discontinue it this year because the men's team is strong, and they want to focus their time and energy on you guys.. On winning.."
The words spilling from your lips cause him to growl, and he shakes his head. "That's ridiculous!! You can't be on the team because you're a girl?? That's just as dumb as Tetsu not being able to play on the first string!!!" He huffs, clenching his fists. "So you're only useful to them as a manager?? I refuse to believe that!"
He doesn't notice the shock in your eyes, or the way you look up at him in wonder. He meets your gaze, determination and anger blazing within hard pools of blue. "Whether they believe that or not, you're a good player, _____. Don't stop playing just because you can't be on the team.... If you do..." he pauses, a frown on his lips..
"... I'll quit the team."
He hears the gasp, but never takes his eyes off yours. It's as if the two of you are communicating to each other silently, and you let out a soft huff, a small laugh leaving your lips.
"As if I'd let you do that, idiot..."
He blinks his eyes in shock, a frown on his lips at being called an 'idiot'. But he watches as your lips curl into a smile. "You're not giving up your spot on the team if I choose to stop playing.. That's not fair to you..." you look at the sky, rubbing the back of your head with a sigh. "Daiki... I won't stop playing... But YOU have to promise me something..."
He watches you carefully, unsure what your next words will be. But he's patient, and the frown slowly melts away.
"Don't stop playing... No matter how strong you become... Regardless if I choose to quit or not... Don't give up the sport you love... If you do..."
He holds his breath when you pause, determination blazing in your eyes.
"I won't forgive you."
The words sink in, and he has to take a step back to catch himself... He knows you're serious, but it's how you say it.. It sends shivers down his spine. He rubs the back of his head as a frown curls on his lips... He wants to keep playing with you.. He wants you by his side, regardless what happens in the future... If all you're asking of him is to continue playing, he's sure he can manage that...
At the time, it was a no brainer.
"As long as you're at my side, I won't quit. No matter how strong I become."
He finds himself startled when the smile curls on your lips, and you move to hug him, causing a blush to form on his cheeks... It's very rare for you to hug him.. At least, when you're on school grounds.. But he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, burying his face in your hair.
"Thank you, Dai-chan..."
He curses his heart for beating fast in his chest, but his mind is focused on the warmth as he holds you close.
_______________________
It's the night before the big game.
Feh. In the end, the only one who can beat him is him. But there's a small tiny piece of hope... Crawling in the corners of his heart. He doesn't want to acknowledge the emotion, but he knows it's there... Satsuki had just came by to check on him... She knew he went to see you, but he didn't give details. He just said you were doing alright...
Not like he knew anything else.
You seemed to take the news somewhat well... Rather, you were the one comforting him as he told the story... As if he was suffering more than you. Perhaps part of it is true. He'd been living with the guilt since last year. Knowing your girlfriend's dad died at the hands of someone who was on the same team... He wasn't sure how to tell you... He still felt the guilt crawl in his gut, but when the image of you kissing him comes to mind, it vanishes almost immediately.
Aomine was still in love with you after all. You were the first person who looked at him for HIM. Not because of his status.
Because he was himself.
A part of him wonders if the reason you broke it off was because of the promise you made him years ago... There's no way you'd remember that day. Not the way he did. He wasn't going to give you up, because whether Aomine wants to admit it or not...
He still needs you.
He always has, and he always will. You are his weakness, and he finds him sighing into the bed, staring up at the ceiling...
'You still love me, _____... I'll win you back somehow.'
With that thought in mind, he finds himself drifting to sleep, dreams filled with nothing but happiness and peace.
______________________________
"______..... Oi! _______!!"
You're startled from your thoughts as you look up at Kasamatsu, seeing the worrying crease in his eyebrows. Your hands juggle the ball, and your gaze rests on it, a soft sigh leaving your lips. Gently bouncing the ball to him, you sit down on the gymnasium floor, staring at your shoes... Why were you remembering that of all things?? The match between Seirin and Touou was tomorrow night, and you decided to spend your remaining free time over at Kaijou, practicing with Ryouta and Yukio's team.. It was just the two of you now, Ryouta had to leave early for a photoshoot, and almost threatened Yukio to stay with you...
He was kicked out of the gym two seconds later.
Your eyes go to the captain, who's now sitting in front of you, a frown on his face. The expression on his face elicits the same reaction from yours, and you huff, finally finding yourself speaking.
"Daiki kissed me."
The words, barely a whisper, sound like a shout, and his eyes widen in shock.
"When?"
A sigh. "A few weeks ago... When I asked him about my father."
He frowns, rubbing the back of his head as he looks around the gym. "You love him right?? Why are you hesitating?"
You don't expect those words from his lips, but when you look at him, you can see the blush... Ah... This must be an uncomfortable topic to talk about for him.... You frown lightly, rubbing the back of your head.
"I love him... But in middle school, we made a promise... He wouldn't quit playing basketball, and I wouldn't hate him..." you hesitate, before shaking your head. "But I feel... I hate the person he's become... I... I don't deserve to love him if I can't love all of him..."
Kasamatsu's eyes go to you, and he watches your posture... He has no experience in this department, but he's not one to leave a Kouhai when they need assistance.. And although love isn't one he knows anything about, he knows you need a friend... He takes the ball from your hands carefully, playing with it for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts.
"So... You're hesitating because you can't accept the man he is now... But he didn't actually quit basketball, did he?" He pauses, watching your reaction... "Sure, he stopped practicing with his team, but he still attends games... For the most part..." He looks at the hoop, trying to keep his thoughts clear. "I don't necessarily agree with Touou's methods with team play.. But it seems to work for them, and although most don't see it... They do work as a team.... Just, not the way we or Seirin do.."
He rubs his head, taking a shot before looking at you, "I'm saying... Loving someone means compromising... And yeah, it's easier to say than do... But if you've been by his side since the whole thing went down at Teiko, why would you give up on him now, when he's starting somewhere new?"
You mechanically walk to the ball, bouncing in place from the shot.. Carefully picking it up, you focus on the smoothness, biting the bottom of your lip as you try to keep your emotions in check.
"I..." you pause, before releasing a loud sigh... "I... It's hard for me to love enough for the both of us... M...More than anything, I want to be able to play side by side with him.. But it will never happen, because I can't join the team..." you turn around, meeting his softening blue hues... "All I can do... is watch him from the side... I can just support him the best way I know how... But he needs more... He needs to be beaten, to experience loss at the sport he loves..." You look down at the ball, gently tossing it back to him..
"I have high hopes for Tetsu and Kagami-kun... If anyone can wake him up, it's them... because they're the new Light and Shadow..."
Kasamatsu grabs the ball, tilting his head to the side... "I still don't fully understand the whole "Light and Shadow" dynamic." he admits, taking another shot of the basket. "But it sounds like you need to lean on teammates as much as Aomine does... And that's not a bad thing _____..." he smiles softly. "Let us help you... You don't have to do it alone... And the more you fight us, the harder the struggle..."
You frown a little, rubbing your head bashfully as you look at the hoop. "I... I'm not good at relying on others." you admit, before releasing a sigh. "But I suppose I can try..." You turn your head back to him, smiling a little... "As long as you're okay with me being stubborn.."
He snorts, shaking his head... "Well, at least I know Kise will be in good hands when I graduate... Even if you're attending Touou..." he mutters, smiling a little. "Wait here, ____. I'll get changed and walk you to the train."
Before you can say anything, Kasamatsu has already vanished, and you release a soft sigh... What a stubborn, hot-headed man...
_____________________________
Your mom had met you at the train station, finishing up a business meeting in Kanagawa. She'd driven Kasamatsu home, despite his avid protests, and she was surprisingly quiet the whole ride home. It was when you were at a red light, you finally found the words you've been wanting to ask her since seeing the letter.
"Why did Dad want me to attend Kaijou?"
She casts you a brief glance, before humming... "We agreed, that if you chose to attend, you would be moving in with him... At the time, the business had been considering expanding, and they wanted to transfer me overseas, to work in the London office.." She hesitates, before sighing. "Part of him also thought Daiki would be attending there, though he never explicitly said why... I always thought you and Ryouta were a thing..."
You let out a huff, crossing your arms. "Hate to break it to you, but he's not my type... And his fangirls are annoying... I doubt our relationship would last based on that alone..."
She laughs, nodding. "I suppose you're right.... He can be a handful.. But so can Daiki, from what I've seen."
Your cheeks start to burn, and you try to find the words in your throat...
"D...Did you SPY on us??"
"It's not spying when I return home to see you guys cuddling outside... I didn't want to disturb you, so I went out for dinner with your father.." She shrugs. "It wasn't my business, and I'm not going to pry. Just know if you need to talk, I'm here."
It was the first time your mother had said anything like that... It's not that she wasn't reliable.. But she was busy with work, and visiting your father in the hospital... You hardly got a chance to see each other... You also kept yourself locked away during the Teiko incident, because you didn't think you could explain what was going on to her, let alone have her understand... She wasn't part of the sports world, after all...
"...Thanks mom..."
______________________________
By the time you got home, it was dark, and your eyes were begging to rest. A yawn escapes your lips, and although you had tests to study for, sleep was the healthier option. Your mind briefly drifts to the kiss, and your fingers raise up to touch your lips, heat beginning to crawl up your skin.. He was soft, tender.. Just the way he used to be... Your body finds its way to the bed, and you collapse on it, lazily kicking off your shoes.
Your heart begins to pick up, and soft tears slip down your cheeks... You knew you were in love with him... Everyone knew, and it seems like Daiki himself knew you were in love with him...
So why didn't he stay longer? Why did he kiss you so softly, holding you as if you were made of glass... He was hesitant, and that's not a word you'd ever associate with him.. Not even after the Haizaki incident... Your eyes go to the teddy bear resting above your bed, and you slowly reach out to grab it, bringing him to your chest.
It was the bear he got you for your birthday...
You move to get under the covers, and let yourself drift to sleep. You could shower, study and eat later... You just wanted to feel that warmth again, to feel comforted and safe... Every emotion you ever felt when Aomine cuddled with you..
All you wanted was to feel his love engulf you, until you were burning by his touch.
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Being friends with benefits with Shirakumo and after a while, he FINALLY confesses to you only for you to say “I thought we already were bf and gf?” *cue head tilt*
The mind-numbing anxiety coursing through his entire body renders him speechless for a moment. He is so nervous that he has to clasp his hands in front of him to stop them from shaking. Not even the sight of your bare breasts and your adorably curious expression can assuage his fears.
Why did he have to do it now, when he was just in the middle of tearing your clothes off your body and kissing your chest wherever his mouth could reach? All it took was your fingers carding so tenderly through his hair as you sighed his name. That’s all it took for him to break, and the words I have to tell you something slipped out without thought or reason.
And now you are facing each other with his - his - cloud print blanket whorled around your soft thighs as you look at him so innocently. Completely unaware of his selfish desires. Unaware of how badly he wants to make you his. Your body responds to him like a well-trained puppy, dripping wet for him before he even touches your cunt. But it’s not enough. He wants so much more than your eager kisses and your sweet moans, he wants to hug you and kiss you whenever he wanted to, he wants to hold your hand and feel his heart burst out of his chest when you smile only for him, he wants your laughter and your hardships, he wants all of you and it’s driving him insane with longing.
“I -- “ The words get stuck in his throat. He swallows and glances away, realizes he’s staring at your breasts, and looks back up at you.
He can see the worry in your eyes. You reach out to place your hand on top of his and squeeze him reassuringly. “Everything alright?” you softly ask, then smile lightly. “Is this where you tell me you’re pregnant?”
That gets a hearty laugh out of him. You always know how to lighten the mood when he can’t do it himself.
“You mean a lot to me. You know that, right?” Your eyes widen, and a charming blush rises to your cheeks. It spurs him onward despite his heart rate skyrocketing by the second. “I wouldn’t do this with anyone else.”
“I sure hope not,” you teasingly interject, a hint of amusement in your voice. “Kayama’s been getting ideas.”
“R-right. Um. What I’m trying to say is … “ God, you were so distracting with your wide, lovely eyes and your pouty lips. “ … just … promise this won’t change anything between us.” He squeezes your hands in his clammy hold. “Please.”
You silently nod. Always so patient with him.
“Okay.” He smiles. “Okay. Here goes.” Deep exhale. “I - I really - “ Love. “ - like you. Like, a lot.”
You blink at him for a moment and hang your head, releasing pent up breath as you let the tension dissipate from your body. “Is that what’s gotten you so serious?” you exasperatingly ask, looking back up at him. “Oboro, you’re going to be the death of me. Obviously I like you, too! Why else would I be naked in bed with you?”
Nothing else registers in his head other than those three little words. “You like me?”
“No. We’re clearly enemies caught up in a torrid love affair.” He is too busy grinning from ear to ear to stop you from climbing into his lap. To be fair, he wouldn’t have stopped you at all. Especially not when you press up against him like a puzzle piece and cup his cheeks. “What’s this really about?”
He should approach this with more tact. Shouta’s bemused expression springs forth in his mind’s eye, but it’s already too late. Oboro can’t think straight with your ass fitting so snugly in his hands and your nipples grazing his chest. So he approaches this with typical blundering enthusiasm. Action first, reassessment later.
“Wanna be my girlfriend?”
You stare at him. And you keep staring.
His confidence plummets by the millisecond. Shit. Shit shit shit he really fucked up, this is so bad what the hell was he thinking -
“I thought we were already dating.”
His panic freezes, and all thoughts suddenly dissipate into one singular question. “Huh?”
You smooth your hands down to his chest and furrow your brows. “I … thought we were together?” Your voice waivers with newfound uncertainty. “I know we didn’t start off dating, but … we’ve been sleeping together for a while, s-so I - “ Your hands curl up into fists as you flush from embarrassment, leaning away from him as you finish, “I guess I misunderstood.”
Oboro wraps you up in a breathtaking hug as soon as you’re done. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” he murmurs hoarsely in your ear. “You didn’t misunderstand anything! I was just being a coward. I didn’t want to lose you.”
You loop your arms around his waist, and he leans into you even more. “How long did you want me?” you whisper, nuzzling into his neck.
“ … since the beginning.” He strokes a hand down your back. “Even before then.”
You giggle. “Me too.”
He pulls away to look at you. You’re close enough to kiss, and it takes a monumental effort to resist. “Really?” You nod, smiling so cutely. “Then does that mean - “
“I’ll be your girlfriend,” you snicker, as though you were humoring him. “Officially. No more mutual pining.”
His smile could blind the sun right now. Before he could smother you in a kiss, you place a finger on his lips.
“And Oboro?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t like you.” He quirks a brow as you grin cheekily. “I love you.”
His heart melts into a puddle, and all self-restraint dissipates as your fingers dig into his hair and he eagerly steals your breath. Over and over again, enthusiastic and sloppy kisses, peppered with his own I love you’s, stamped into your skin with each kiss.
#shirakumo oboro#shirakumo x reader#shirakumo/reader#shirakumo oboro x reader#shirakumo oboro/reader#bnha#asdfjkla this is low effort orz#i got lazy towards the end im sowwy#i am allergic to smut lately
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not yet | kim yugyeom
word count: 2048
anon requested: heyyy, could you do an imagine where Yugyeom sees you dance for the first time and you’re actually really good and he falls for you even more. Thank you💘also I love your writing💞
pining!yugyeom , pining!reader , gender neutral!reader based on the bob’s burgers episode — two for tina! [season 3 , episode 17] special appearance from rubin! [1team]

You had your mind on a loop these days. Gazing, longing and dreaming. Over and over until you mixed reality and your imagination. Gazing, longing and dreaming. Until your eyes watered from where you'd been mindlessly staring at the wall. Gazing, longing and dreaming. And then, a snap.
"Y/N — earth to Y/N! I know you're in there somewhere." Another snap — you shook your head. Smiling at the boy in front of you — he only glared — you shrugged. "Now is not the time to daydream, babe. The showcase is in a week!"
"Oh, please," you groaned, "we've got this, Rubin! I could do this dance in my sleep."
He only glared again, "if you could, then you would be dancing right now."
"Whatever." You curled your nose at him. The purple haired boy continued to grumble, ignoring how you mocked him. You took in a deep breath, stretching your arms before looking back to Rubin. "Okay. Let's go again."
—
On the other side of the building laid Kim Yugyeom. He was settled into the couch in his practice room, mind swirling and warping with different scenarios. Mark had told him to take a break — "your head isn't here, just rest," he'd said.
Of course Yugyeom wasn't mentally present — he was too focused on thinking about you.
He didn't know when this crush — infatuation, adoration, whatever — started. Yugyeom just knew he couldn't even go minutes without you pushing into his thoughts. How you spoke; the way you walked; even those small seconds where your eyes would meet. He was addicted.
This is not what Mark meant by rest, Yugyeom chided himself. With a shake of his head, the boy sunk deeper into the sofa. He needed a distraction — something to overrun all of the thoughts of you. Pulling out his phone, Yugyeom clicked on something that always allowed his mind to drift — Bob's Burgers.
And that's where the nightmare began.
Yugyeom wasn't aware he was dreaming. All he knew is that it was dark and now there's a spotlight shining on someone — on you. He gulped — it wasn't fair. The way you were smiling at him wasn't fair at all. You tilted your head, as if beckoning him forward. And, under your spell as he always was, Yugyeom followed your movements.
To his surprise, you started to dance. And all Yugyeom could do was stand there and just watch and stare. He didn't even know you could dance — didn't know you could twirl and spin and leap as gracefully as you did. He was being hypnotized slowly and he wasn't fighting it. Yugyeom wanted to only see you — he wanted you to fill his being completely.
Yugyeom was slapped out of his trance as a scoff echoed around the blank room the two of you were in. Blinking rapidly — to snap him out of his staring and your eyes — he turned to the left. He frowned, "what are you doing here?" Because there stood Bambam with a snarl, wearing the same thing you were.
"Oh, please," Bambam rolled his eyes, "like I'll let this wannabe steal you from me!"
"Wannabe?" Yugyeom blinked. He thought that maybe the rumors were true and you shouldn't eat sweets before sleeping. Because, honestly, seeing Bambam of all people in an outfit inspired by yours was a little terrifying.
"Well, I'm not taking anything," you said softly. Yugyeom's attention was solely on you once more. Eyes glistening and shoulders drooping, you had him entranced effortlessly. He grinned a wide, dopey smile at you. You returned the smile, eyes on him as you spoke again. "He's already mine."
Kim Yugyeom was going to combust. You were watching — staring — at him as he stuttered and blushed. Finally, you smirked, throwing him a wink as Bambam scoffed again.
"Prove it," he threw his nose into the air. Yugyeom couldn't even choke his next question out before Bambam was holding an arm into the air, posing ridiculously. You quirked up at eyebrow at the boy. Bambam shouted, "dance off!"
You wanted to ask if he was being serious. Yugyeom wanted to ask if his best friend was feeling well; if he needed to rest instead. Bambam wanted to ask why the both of you were staring at him so strangely. The silence grew until you nodded in defeat, reluctantly agreeing with the idea.
"Fine. You're the judge, Yugy," you turned to face him again and his breath caught in his throat. Tilting your head, you sent him a teasing smile, "choose wisely."
You knew — you had to know the affect you had on Yugyeom. You were too confident — too much of a tease to not know. You had to know he adored every inch of you — that he thought of you too often and couldn't focus on anything else when you were in the same room.
"Hello!" Bambam's arms were crossed as Yugyeom glanced at him. He tapped his foot with a pout. "Are we going to do this or are you just going to stare at Y/N all day?"
"I wouldn't mind either one," Yugyeom blurted out. His ears turned red, mouth snapping shut as he heard you begin to laugh. Finally glancing up at you once more, he was greeted with a soft smile.
"I wouldn't mind, either, to be honest."
"Okay! I'm starting now! Stop flirting and pay attention!"
Yugyeom would be lying if he said he was watching Bambam. Too often, he'd found himself watching you instead. Admiring how the outfit you wore accented your body and how your lashes brushed against your cheek and how your nose scrunched when you smiled at Bambam. Without turning to him, you spoke. "You can't be the judge if you aren't watching all of the contestants."
"I didn't want to be..." his voice trailed off with a small crack. Yugyeom cleared his throat, facing Bambam as he continued to talk to you. "Be the judge, that is." He shrugged as he fought off another blush. "Would've picked you regardless."
"Well," you nudged your shoulder against his, "that's a little mean, don't you think?" Yugyeom shrugged again as he passively watched his best friend dance — if that's what Bam calls it. You nodded slowly, humming in thought. "Let him have his fun, at least."
And then it was your turn to dance and Yugyeom was reduced to a puddle. That's what it felt like, at least. He swayed on his feet, his knees wobbling and knocking together as your feet stepped steadily, guiding you around the room. Yugyeom felt like he was gasping for breath and you had no issues. He didn't know what you were dancing to, or if there was any music to begin with.
All that ran through Yugyeom's mind was you. You, you, you. His mind was surfaced with thoughts solely surrounding you. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.
He gasped for another breath — he had to tell you. After you were done with your dance, Yugyeom would release what he'd held for what felt like decades. He would tell you about his fizzing stomach and unstable heart and swirling mind. He would name all of the things he liked about you. All of the nervous ticks you had and your ever-growing list of dislikes. He would tell you he noticed your different smiles and what they meant.
He would do it — Kim Yugyeom was going to confess!
"Yugy." Why was Bambam interrupting his inner-monologue?
"Yugyeom." Seriously, he had to plan this perfectly!
"Dude, wake up already." What?
Slowly, his eyes peeled open and Yugyeom was met with Mark and Bambam hovering over him. Youngjae shoved Bambam lightly, "I told you he was still alive!"
Bambam merely shrugged, continuing to eat the popsicle he held.
"Where's Y/N?" Yugyeom's voice croaked with sleep. As he sat up from the couch, his phone slid into the seat beside him. Yugyeom blinked down as Tina Belcher came onto the screen — no wonder I was having weird dreams.
"Probably still in the practice room with Rubin."
But, it fell on empty ears. Yugyeom was already out of the room.
—
The music pounding through the speakers wasn't the only thing on your mind. Relentlessly, desperately, and tediously — his name popped up again and again. Your body was on auto-pilot as you copied the moves Rubin made, but your thoughts were elsewhere — as they always seemed to be.
Finally, the music came to a stop, allowing you to take a much needed break. Rubin was gulping down his water, eyeing you unconsciously as your mind continued to wander. The purple haired boy rolled his eyes, "if you don't just ask that boy out, Y/N. I will—"
"Will you shut up?" You shoved him lightly with wide eyes. Looking around — though, you knew it was only the two of you present — you let out a loud sigh. "Why do you have to be so loud? He's in this building, you know."
"Whatever," Rubin rolled his eyes. He tossed his now empty bottle to the side, nodding in triumph. "Ready to go again?"
With reluctance, you started to practice again, completely unaware that the boy your thoughts centered around was on his way to you.
—
He found it hard to contain himself. Yugyeom couldn't find it in himself to open the door to the practice room. His tongue was suddenly paper and his throat was parched. His limbs were frozen stiff, not allowing him to move from his spot.
Because there you were. Graceful and beautiful and mesmerizing. And Yugyeom couldn't form the words — couldn't remember his confession. Every thought he'd had in his dream — every phrase and simile and metaphor — left his mind and was replaced.
With you, you, you.
Suddenly the door was open and your dance partner was staring at him. You were still dancing, eyes closed and oblivious to the world around you. Rubin spoke maliciously, "if you're not here to sweep Y/N off their feet, then leave."
Yugyeom gulped, his eyes bouncing between you and the boy. Raising an eyebrow, Rubin leaned against the door frame. "Well?"
He was standing in front of you. He didn't know when he'd moved or where he'd gained the strength to, but he was standing in front of you now. And you were just staring at him, waiting. Taking in a large breath, Yugyeom finally spoke.
"Y/N—" his voice cracked. Clearing his throat, Yugyeom could feel the familiar heat of a blush trail across his face. You tiled your head at him, a gentle and questioning smile on your lips. [Behind you, Rubin was silently cheering him on. Yugyeom tried to ignore the purple boy, as well as his own friends who'd joined him.]
"I—" he paused again. This was so hard — why was it so hard? Why can't I just say — "I'm in love with you. It's so easy to think of you and admire you from afar. It's— it's not fair anymore. I only think of you and I get so flustered and you're my entire dream and—"
You were still staring at him, but you were a little teary now. Yugyeom's eyebrows furrowed — why were your starry eyes looking at him like that? His blush intensified, "I said all of that out loud, didn't I?"
With a fond laugh, you nodded. "But," your voice broke his thoughts, "I don't mind. I—" you let out a large puff of breath. Nodding slowly, you looked away from Yugyeom almost shyly. "I feel the same way and it's gotten a little embarrassing — how much I love you."
"Finally!" A few cheers echoed around the room. You let out a laugh, reaching to intertwine your hand with Yugyeom's. He beamed at the contact, fighting the urge to say it over and over again. But, he did anyways. "I love you, I love you, I love you!"
He could hear his friends and yours teasing you both in the background, but he ignored them. He was grinning and holding your hand close and blocking out every word they were saying. Because now you were his, and he was yours.
— this was... yeah idk either hhhh i hope you enjoyed this! im determined to b better at updating this year [i say that a lot but i mean it this time okay] requests are always open! it takes me a while, but theyre there! thank you for reading, ♡
#kim yugyeom imagine#kim yugyeom au#kim yugyeom scenario#kim yugyeom oneshot#kim yugyeom fluff#got7 oneshot#got7 au#got7 imagines#got7 fluff#got7 scenarios#kpop oneshot#kpop fluff#kpop au#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines
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There was nothing.
“Nothing.”
What did “nothing” imply?
What did “nothing” mean?
What did it mean to say there was nothing?
For him to say that he was nowhere, with nothing around him, he had to know what that truly meant. He couldn’t misidentify his surroundings yet again. Not now. Not after he finally might have time to stitch together his disjointed thoughts. His heart jumped at the thought of falling short. Before something changed again, the answer needed to be found.
When you think of “nothing,” what's the first thing that comes to mind? A black void? An empty room? Void is something. Emptiness is something. What’s nothing? If you’d define “nothing” as simply, absolutely nothing -- no sound, no entity, no visual, no existence -- to the point where if Mist-Jun begged you to believe he was nowhere with nothing, that alone would prove it to be yet one more devious lie. (No. He wouldn’t perform another elaborate lie. Out of everything that gets entangled in his tattered thoughts, he will forever be haunted by what banished him “here.” It’s the one thing he can remember)
He realized: He couldn’t be in an area with nothing inherently. No matter how empty it felt at times, no matter how hollow his heart felt, if looking upwards, there was always that rarely-spinning cot mobile. The mobile that always remained in the same place no matter how far he thought he strayed; as long as he looked above himself, it was always there. Even if the rest of the forever looping “room” was empty, there was always the golden cot mobile -- he was never certainly with nothing.
Although, maybe “cot mobile” doesn’t quite describe it well. In a mobile, pendants are connected to a base that spins slowly. This one had neither. He’d argue it’s more like an endless, lightless chandelier that began who-knows-where. There is no ceiling; just where the chandelier faded away -- No visible start to the mobile, just an end.
The chandelier was barely visible from shadow when he first awoke here. Originally, it appeared as a small, golden dot from his perspective. With how far it rested from the "floor," he barely noticed it at that time. The more time passes, the longer it grows, he'd realized at one point.
Until then, he was convinced time stood still where he was, all while earth continued to live on as suffered. The thought likely came from how long those mysterious voices revealed he was punished to spend in this looping, blank world a few...years?...ago.
The chandelier, he was certain, was the lock keeping him in this ominous realm.
Just like everything else here, the patterns on the cot mobile periodically changes, it seems. Never when he's looking, though; always when he turns his back.
It's never unusual or unnerving for him to recognize the patterns in the chandelier; familiarity always gave him a feeling of safety.
...
Not always.
Sometimes, he views the patterns with fear.
The patterns came in lines; one set of symbols repeated themselves until the line was over. The farther down on the chandelier, the shorter the line. It occurred to him, one day, if that meant the mobile would inevitably be forced to stop growing.
He wondered what would happen then.
The more he studied the symbols on the mobile, the more he realized some shapes were recurrent: Nearly always, there was a silhouette of him and a woman dancing. He smiles when seeing this symbol, knowing it was fortunate this was a common pattern; had it not been for this, he might have forgotten about them by now. Completely and entirely, he means. That encrypted, dance partner on the chandelier reminded him of who? It's not the first time he's thought about them. He knows their name, even if it must’ve been buried into the back of his head unknowingly. He promised never to forget them. Who was it? Don’t forget them, Mist.
Don’t forget them.
Don’t forget them.
Don’t forget them.
It was strange.
When he’d first awoke in this endless chamber of immeasurable darkness, he was only reminded of what led him there by those ghastly voices that were kind enough to warn him of his crimes. Otherwise, he’d be forever wandering these tainted halls without a clue of what banished him here.
This shadow-shrouded dungeon has become a prison to him. A special prison, just for him. With the years he’s spent here, he’s given up hope of escaping from this blighted chamber or finding himself released if he remains patient. With the years he’s spent here, he’s given up hope of getting answers to what the red handcuffs encircling his wrists represent or what the green shackles entangling his ankles mean.
With the years he’s spent here, he’s given up hope of trying to get answers for anything anymore.
They’ve likely forgotten him.
Not them, the voices, he means.
He’s been abandoned with no one coming back.
He hasn’t heard those voices respond to him since day one. Not just voices -- he needed to specify. Those voices. The voices that explained why he was imprisoned here when he’d first awaken, that’s who he was yearning to hear. The only other voices he’s heard in here are rather unsettling whispers that, though uncommon, seem to come from merging and shifting walls…
...And…
...of course…
...that familiar lullaby that rarely sings from the cot mobile.
It comes in waves.
Day-and-night cycles are far from identifiable to him (Here in this domain, he could identify one, and only one, cycle: "safe stage" and "danger stage.") but, over time, it grew increasingly obvious the faint melody was periodic, performing in random order. He would never know when it would start. Nor why - despite his relentless search for answers, he will forever be rooted in a world filled with simply empty non-existence.
Chills swept over him.
He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed he hadn’t recognized the person who whispered that song sooner.
Although, even then, the first time he was struck by this gentle song, he could recognize the medieval folktale hidden beneath the soft-spoken lyrics easily. This song was about one of their traditional acts, he noticed. Upon the first time he heard the lyrics, it was about the ancient belief that, if you scribbled your deepest desire on a scrap of paper, slipping it into a glass bottle and watch it safely sail past the ocean horizon, one day, you’ll find your wish has become a reality.
…
There’s a strange connection he felt resonate between the lullaby and him.
Down to the singer.
The lyrics.
The melody.
The--
...
Focus, Mist-Jun.
Should the time come he gather the strength to search through the fogged memories of his tragic past well enough, his recollections had told him that...he...used to cast wishes into the sea himself;
It couldn’t be a coincidence.
Could not.
It couldn’t be a coincidence how--
--something clicked not too long ago when he realized the lyrics always alter slightly with each performance. Though the pure melody was always the same, the “final” lyrics are always delayed more each listening with new words added to the ending, steadily building another verse. While he always heard it begin all the same and, ignoring it at first, he was unaware that the strangely familiar lullaby had been rewritten.
Because his heart ached from hearing it.
With even the beginning of the lullaby intertwined with an aching story he had promised himself he would forget, how could anyone have the strength to resist shielding themself from the nightmare? Despite grimacing at the thought, It wasn't until after the song's length doubled that he thought to rehear its healing lyrics as he had staggered steadily to his feet.
…
He shouldn’t have waited. He knew that now.
Although he feared the way his broken instincts insisted the true nature of the song would have been better left a mystery, he had known the fragments of his spirit wouldn’t stop bleeding until he understood the song’s true strings to his heart.
He’d been right.
With the sadly-sung lyrics, the singer reminisced a tale of a maiden crowned as a reigning royal, and as such, grows accustomed to receiving anything and everything she would desire at the drop of a hat. As time passed living her best life and sharing her throne with her best friend, she had grown caring not of the disgusting way the foolish peasants outside her castle were forced to live, nor how greatly the townspeople hated her greed.
(The peasants weren’t being fair, he deemed. He knew they weren’t.)
The verse rambled on about her narcissistic orders as ruler…
...and…
...the penalty that came with it.
Once the public heard word of how their queen grinned happily with malice as she carried out wickedly inhuman deeds that provoked nothing but grief and misery for the common people such as enflaming the sacred forest and slaughtering the cherished lover of another princess from a faraway country, the masses arose to overthrow the ruling tyrant, leading the reign-sharing best friend to--...
…
...to…
...
The song never specified.
Still, he knew exactly what happened.
He promised them he would never forget.
It was a memory that ate away at him, a memory that tormented him, yet he would sacrifice everything and anything to hold on to this one, certain sin.
Repeating the same bloody scene again and again.
He smiles.
He couldn’t tell you what it is, of course.
It was a secret.
That he held on to.
Even after death.
#writblr#writers on tumblr#writing#creative writing#original writing#story#scribble#oc#tw death#tw afterlife#tw blood mention#tw misgendering#((<< Co goes by they/them pronouns at the time this is taking place))#sorry for the double post but im p damn proud of myself!! gib support! ^0^(pls)
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Fever Dreams
So here’s my first Uhtred x Reader fix. I hope you guys enjoy it. My requests are still open so if any of you have some story ideas let me know. 😊
Pairings: Uhtred x Reader
Prompt: fever dreams
Warnings: smut, swearing
Your Lord was sick. He was very sick. Ever since he had met Skade his strength had dwindled. He was no longer Uhtred of Bebbanburg, the Dane Slayer, the infamous warrior. He was weak and he was dying. You had been travelling for a while when Uhtred suddenly collapsed, falling from his horse into the snow. You and Finan had rushed to his aid in a attempt to get him back onto his horse but it was no use. That was how you ended up here. Sat in the woods, huddled around a fire, waiting for Uhtred to pass into the next life. “He is not longed for this world.” Osferth said, returning from where he had been trying to feed Uhtred some broth. “He is no longer himself. He sees things.” “He sees someone.” Skade interrupted, from where she was sat tied up by a tree. “Who the hell gave you permission to speak.” You stood up, a marching angrily towards her drawing your sword. “If it wasn’t for you none of this would have happened. I should kill you now and be done with it!” You lunged are her but someone caught your arm, pulling you round towards them. “Let me go.” You snarled. “(Y/n) I can’t let ya do this. You know what the curse says. Ya can’t kill her like this, not now. What happens if she is the only reason Uhtred is still alive? What then? Your not going to sacrifice him like that. I know ya won’t.” “I wouldn’t be so sure.” I said, lunging toward Skade again but Finan once again held you back. “I know ya hurting (y/n) alright. Ya love him I understand but I won’t let you do this.” You froze as soon as he mentioned love. Yes you loved Uhtred with all your heart but you would never admit your feelings for him. He was a warrior and he had been with many women whilst you knew him. Not once were you one of those women. He never saw you like that. You were just like any other member of the group. One of the lads. You were never going to be a lady to any of them and so you excepted this. But it hurt. A lot. As a young girl you had the dream all young women have, that one day you would find the man of your dreams and settle down and have a family. This was not your path. When your village was massacred by Danes you went to Winchester for safety that’s were you met Uhtred and his men. You begged them to let you join them, saying you wanted to learn how to defend yourself. After that you fought many battles with them and fell deeper in love each day with their fearsome leader. Which is how you ended up in your current situation freezing in the woods waiting for the man you loved to die because of some witch. Finan steered you back towards the campfire, seating you between Osferth and himself. “Come on (y/n), have a drink.” Finan said, handing you a cup of ale. “Thanks,” you mumbled.
A few hours passed in comfortable silence around the fire, when Uhtred began to stir. You were the first to hear him, sitting bolt upright and staring across the clearing. “Uhtred,” you whispered, rising from your seat to sit by his side.You took his hand into ours. It was cold and clammy, sweat beading on his forehead. “(Y/n),” he grumbled, looking at you through half closed eyes. “It’s alright Uhtred. I’m here. I’ve got you.” “Don’t go (y/n).” He struggled against the furs he was under. “NO DON’T TAKE HER. NO STOP PLEASE (Y/N)!” He screamed. “Uhtred please,” you whimpered. Finan and the others had joined you now. “(Y/n) what’s happening?” Finan asked, concern evident on his face. “I don’t know it’s like he isn’t here.” “He’s having a fever dream,” Sihtric said, “I’ve seen many warriors suffer from it. The fever burns them out and they begin to hallucinate. What he’s seeing isn’t real, but it is to him.” “How do we stop it?” Osferth chimed in. “You can’t. You just have to wait.” You sighed, defeated. Uhtred began to stir again. “Please don’t hurt her. I love her. Take me not her. Please not (y/n). Not her.” Everyone turned towards you. “Did I hear that right?” Finan asked, confused. “He loves her.” Osferth repeated. “He loves you (y/n).” “No he doesn’t. He can’t. Not me. It’s never me.” You stood up, defiantly. “Don’t repeat what you’ve just heard. Like Sihtric said it’s a fever dream it’s not real.” “(Y/n)!” Finan called to you but you had already made your way back to your tent. Butterflies danced in your stomach as you were filled with hope that what he said was true. Did he really love you?
Within a few weeks Uhtred was back to his normal self, seeming completely unaware of what he had said while he was sick. He treated you like he always did, joking with you like he did with the rest of his men. It was what you were used to and yet it broke your heart even more. That night had given you a small glimmer of hope and yet life had snatched it away from you. Your friends knew this and tried to cheer you up as much as they could, up to their normal antics. You no longer cared for their games though and spent much of the time by yourself down by the river. It was peaceful there. The clear water lapping rhythmically at the bank, in time with your heart beat. You stayed there every day for, dawn til dusk before you headed back to your home. Uhtred had noticed this change in you and mentioned it to Finan one evening. Finan, knowing that you couldn’t stand much more heartache, played ignorant to the situation and Uhtred dropped the subject. Until a few days later when you were bathing down at the river. You had gotten up early and gone down to your usual spot by the river. No one would be around at this time so you stripped off your clothes, leaving them on the bank before climbing into the cool water. Although freezing, swimming in the river made you feel alive, it brightened your spirit and you loved it. Plunging your head under the water, you come up taking a deep breath and pushing your blonde hair out of your eyes. When you opened them, to your horror, you come face to face with Uhtred.
“Good morning (y/n),” Uhtred smiles at you cheerfully. He was sat on the low hanging tree across the river, legs swinging. “Uhtred... I... what are you...” you fumble for your words trying to cover yourself with your hands. “I just thought you might want some company.” He winked at you cheekily. You sighed, “Uhtred please just leave me alone. I’m trying to bathe.” You turned away from him going back to washing yourself. “I know. I also know that you have been avoiding me like the plague and as this is where you’ve been spending most of your time I thought I’d come and see you.” “Uhtred...” “What’s wrong (y/n)? Why are you avoiding me? What did I do wrong?” “Nothing you didn’t do anything wrong. Just… just go Uhtred. Leave me.” There was silence behind you for a moment before you heard the rustle of clothes. You could hear gentle splash of water. You didn’t dare look round. You couldn’t. You couldn’t face him. “(Y/n) please,” his voice was soft and comforting, something you usually sort. “Hey look at me.” Soft hands caressed your shoulders and you sighed, enjoying his touch. “Please,” he begged, taking a few deep breaths you turned round to face him. “Your so beautiful.” He smiled, gently running a wet thumb over your cheek. You closed your eyes, savouring the moment. His fingers began to run down your neck, dancing along your collar bone. “Uhtred,” you whimpered. “Don’t resist it (y/n) I know how much you want this. I want this too.”He smiled at you then. “I want you.” That was the last straw. You grabbed him, looping your arms around his neck, pulling at his hair. His strong hands found their way to your waist, lifting you up so you could wrap you legs around his toned, muscular body. “I love you (y/n),” Uhtred whispered. He looked vulnerable for the first time since you had met him. Stroking his cheek lovingly you put your lips next to his ear, causing him to shiver.“I love you too.” After that it became a frenzy of hands and kisses. Before you knew it you were led on the bank, your cloak underneath you and Uhtred on top of you. This had happened in all your fantasies but you still couldn’t believe this was happening. Uhtred wanted you. You wanted Uhtred. “Uhtred please,” you begged as he began kissing down your neck, nipping at your ear lobe. “Please.” You began grinding your hips against his, trying to create some friction.
He groaned like a wild animal, biting down harshly on your neck. “Don’t tease me (y/n). I don’t know wether I can control myself for much longer.” He whispered, looking at you with eyes full of love.“Oh Uhtred I don’t want you to control yourself. I want you buried deep inside me. Filling me with your seed.” Uhtred need not be told twice, he gripped your hips harshly, pulling you further underneath him. His finger slipped between your legs.“God your already so wet for me love.” He praised. He began pumping his finger inside you, creating friction. You moaned softly as he added another finger, stretching you. “Uhtred. Uhtred please...” you begged. “Please what (y/n) I need you to say it.” He grinned up at you. “I...I...oh... I...shit.” You sighed, unable to form a sentence. “Tell me what you need.” “Fuck me! Fuck me Uhtred!” You all but screamed. “That’s my girl.” Uhtred praised, kissing down your neck. He lined himself up to you, gripping his thick cock between his fingers. “This might sting a little.” He warned, “ if you want me to stop just tell me ok?” “Ok.” You nodded, to say you were nervous was an understatement but you had wanted this for so long you weren’t about to pull away now. Uhtred gave you a tender kiss as he pushed into you. His cock stretched you, causing you to wince. A single tear ran down your cheek. Once he was completely inside you he stopped. “(Y/n) are you ok?” Uhtred asked, concern evident on his face. “I’m ok just... just give me a second.” Uhtred hovered over you, placing gentle kisses along your collar bone. You could feel a tingling sensation in your stomach and you felt restless. “Uhtred please...please move.” At that Uhtred pulled out of you before pushing back into you slowly. The pace was excruciating but he soon picked it up and was slamming into you. Panting and moaning surrounded you, as the coil in your abdomen began to tighten. You scrapped your nails down Uhtred’s hard, muscular back. Groaning, Uhtred bit down on your neck sending shock waves through your body. “Ah...ah...Uhtred.” You whimpered, his pace relentless. You were panting, gasping as you gripped hold of his shoulders trying to anchor yourself. You felt Uhtred’s hand drift from your hips down your thigh before reaching between your legs. He pressed firmly at your bundle of nerves and you shouted his name. “Gods yes (y/n)” Uhtred continued to pound into you. He lifted one of your legs up over his shoulder so he could reach a different angle. “I can’t hold on much longer.” You cried. “It’s alright my love. You can let go. Let go for me (y/n).” With that the coil unravelled and you came shouting his name. After a few more thrusts Uhtred came with a roar, spilling his seed inside of you. You lay on the bank, trying to catch your breath. Uhtred kissed you softly, before pulling out. You could feel his seed running down your leg and were left feeling empty without him. “Gods (y/n) that was... it was...” “Amazing.” You breathed. “...something else.” He finished, “I’ve never been with a women like that before.” You looked at him puzzled. “Your not a v...” “No I’m not a virgin.” He laughed. “No I mean I’ve never been with someone like you. You are perfect (y/n). I don’t know why it took so long for me to admit it but you are.” He pulled you close to him, kissing you. “Well if I’m so perfect.” You grinned, biting your lip. “Then what would you say to round 2?” Uhtred grinned, “it’s like you read my mind.” He pulled you in for another passionate kiss and it was at that point you knew you weren’t getting any sleep that night.
Tags: @sihtric @beowulfsdottir @maggiescarborough @rileybots @finantheagile @bonaofsavoy @geekandbooknerd @lauwrite1225
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retrouvailles
↳ @taangweek 2020 Day 4: Future
This one could go for past as well, but I’m dropping this today because the setting’s technically in the future. Here’s 7k+ words of Aang and Toph being soulmates.
Read it on ao3 or under the cut
retrouvailles {French} the happiness you feel upon reuniting with someone after you've been apart for a long time
‘
“Are you alright, miss?” a voice asks, soft in the clamor of the snack aisle—
It’s violent, the way Toph’s ripped away from her little daydream, and her body’s still flinching as her eyes and ears slowly readjust to the people around her. There are no flying bisons and wingled lemurs here because they don’t exist, because she’s in a goddamn grocery store.
She tiredly lifts her gaze up – all the way up – to an angelic figure leaning over her, what with the lovely features and the bright light brimming around his shaved head. He’s all broad shoulders and lithe muscles and effulgent tattoos, and even though he looks like an incredibly kind person, something about him sets her teeth on edge. Like she should know him by now even if she’s never met this man in her life.
“Was I blocking you,” she replies, unable to help the flatness of her voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Toph moves to walk around him, oddly reluctant.
“No, wait—” the guy blurts out, panicked, his nimble fingers reaching out to curl lightly around her shoulder blade—
And they say it’s like nothing else matters, that touching your soulmate for the first time is like sating a hunger you never knew you had.
She’s always thought that was a fat load of bullshit – what, you meet the stranger that’s supposed to be your other half and it’s happily ever after just like that? – but here she is, a hypocrite to her own thoughts.
Toph hones in on the warmth that’s molded around the curve of her shoulder, feeling a far too pleasant burn smear its way down her spine. She leans away from the stranger by a few inches, just to test it their limits, but fuck, it hurts. She’s met him for a total of three minutes and the sensation of not touching him already leaves her with an ache she can’t even begin to understand.
He makes a hurt noise in his throat when she leans away, jarred by the abruptness of their separation. His hands follow after her, touching the points of her elbows this time, and Toph feels the tremor in his hands, hears the quickness in his breath.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, tightening his fingers around her skin. “I know we don’t know each other, but—”
“This is so stupid,” Toph groans, but she’s slipping a palm over his wrist thoughtlessly, touching the thrum of his pulse. “Why a fucking Walmart of all places?”
Her soulmate’s mouth twitches into a smile. “Why not a Walmart?”
Because it’s the lamest place ever, she wants to say, but then she catches his smile and she stutters to a stop. She gazes at his pretty grey eyes and knows them, has seen them in multiple lifetimes.
(It’s you reverbrates in the space of her chest that used to be hollow, that used to be a void tundra.)
There’s a soulmark on her forearm now – long, golden vines with leaves that twist into the complimentary ones wrapped around his own skin, and the longer they touch, the more intertwined their vines become. It’s both thrilling and unsettling since, so far, Toph’s lived through twenty years of her life with a bare forearm.
“So,” Toph ends up mumbling, because she knows where this is going to lead and because someone has to eventually, “your place or mine?”
‘
“Do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?”
“I don’t see why not.”
‘
Her soulmate’s name is Aang, a vegan pacifist whose happiness seems endless, and the while he’s chirping to her about his life like an excited hummingbird, she finds it harder to fathom why the fates specifically chose him for her.
“I’m talking way too much about myself,” he chuckles in embarrassment, pink dusting over his cheeks.
Shrugs. “I asked.”
Aang’s curled up with her on his couch – his apartment had been closer - idly playing with one of her hands. Their tea sits on the coffee table, cold and forgotten, but she’s too stupidly inebriated with the feeling of his hands on her own to care. Toph doesn’t mind the constant touching, surprisingly. It feels so much better than anything else, and there’s this still moment where they watch his vines crawl from his fingers over to hers.
“What about you?” He’s close enough for his cheek to brush her shoulder. “Tell me about yourself? Pretty please?”
“I’m an art student,” she grins back, unwittingly, at his enthusiasm. “I go to BSSU.”
He positively beams at this. “I go there too! Why is it that I’ve never seen you around campus before?
“Different curriculum maybe?
Toph feels the heat of his gaze wandering everywhere, stiffening slightly only when it drops to the puckered skin on her right leg. “Is there a story behind this?” she hears him ask quietly, his fingers hovering over the scar, but not quite touching it.
“You’re going to think I’m fucking crazy.”
“Try me.” Aang’s isn’t sporting that bright smile anymore, but his face has softened completely. “If you want, that is. You don’t have to tell me.”
It’s strange and new and terrifying, but he’s a gentle breeze in their bond, surrounding her without suffocating her, smoothing over the points of her body that are maybe a little too rough, a little too jagged.
“Well, there’s this forest near the house I grew up in,” Toph starts, drumming her fingers along his soulmark. “I walked through it so many times that I practically memorized it. I really thought I could navigate myself through the forest blind, so I put on a blindfold—”
(The darkness doesn’t welcome her, not the way she wants it to.
Her bare feet press into the earth and she doesn’t feel the vibrations of the earth moving around her, doesn’t hear the songs of squirrels skittering up the old trees, of worms writhing in the dirt. She feels disconnected from everything, small and insignificant.
She carefully glides along the flat surface of the boulders, but misses her next step, falls down and keeps falling—)
“Anyway, now I have a permanent reminder of how much of a dumbass I was,” she says, half bemused, half self-depreciating.
But Aang opens his arms, his face silently pleading, and she hesitates a little. Her soulmate is a stranger wrapped in odd, familiar skin and when they’re pressed together, it’s like they’re speaking an old, sacred language only their bones know.
They should be in bed right now like most soulmate couples their age – or at least kissing, maybe - but she supposes she’ll fail at that too amongst other things.
So, Toph leans in, biting back a satisified hum when his arms coil around her shoulders. He smells like clean laundry and a hint of cinnamon, and when he sighs in content, she feels her muscles relax.
“I like to stand on the edges of high places,” Aang noses against her hair, probably unaware that’s he’s doing it too. “My friends can’t stand it when I do it, but I can’t help it. I never have the urge to actually jump,” he adds in a small laugh, “but I like to imagine that there would be a way for me to somehow catch myself if I do. Then I remember that it’s not possible and I feel this...incredible loss.”
An unexplainable loss you never had in the first place. Yeah, she gets it.
“Thanks.”
“Of course.” His eyes languidly trail after the uplifted bend of her mouth. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
There’s an anxious spike of hope blooming in the pit of Toph’s stomach and it’s not coming from her. She doesn't exactly know how she knows this either, but it's all Aang she's feeling.
It’s coming from him.
Which is ridiculous because Toph shouldn’t be able to feel him like that. Soulmates don’t work like that. There’s soulmarks and the constant need to be close, but not this invasion of other people’s emotions—
“Yeah, sure,” she says.
Everything is okay. Everything is fine.
Get a fucking grip.
‘
“Some bonds only need an hour of touching and they’re okay for the whole week,” she says at the threshold of his front door, lingering. “Maybe we’re like that? I mean, it doesn’t hurt to try, right?”
“O-Okay,” Aang stutters, brows furrowed, looking like he really wants to follow after her like an imprinted duckling.
Toph lets go of his hand then and the sharp sting she feels should have been taken as a warning. She takes a step back though, forcing herself to play dumb to his white fingers clenched around the door frame and the sudden pallor of his face.
Her fingers tingle in a particularly awful way as she waves goodbye to him and the discomfort is rudimentary, really. It’s nothing she can’t handle, considering she’s had worse done to her skin.
She makes it as far as the turn of the hallway, right when Aang’s out of her view.
Pain grips at her right arm and the numbness flares outward, careening her into the wall. She can’t fucking breathe because it feels like her lungs are being scraped out by a rusty spoon, like her ribs are being branded by hot iron—
Aang barrels into her at a frightening speed and they go teetering to the floor, but he curls his body around hers protectively, possessively, breaking her fall. He’s mouthing something frantic against the hollow of her throat, but she can’t hear it because she’s too overwhelmed by the sensation of his pain pressing down on top of hers.
Whatever she’d felt earlier is vaulting back tenfold and it’s so strange to feel her own emotions looped back to her through a feedback that’s experienced through him. She feels him desperately wanting to take away the unseen hurt throbbing in her while trying to compress his own down and, gods, this isn’t normal.
“Um,” Toph whispers, her voice trembling with her body as she clings to him. “Okay, that was a dumb idea. I’m sorry—”
“Maybe you should stay with me for a couple of days—”
She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “We have school. How are we going to do—”
“There’s an exemption form we could fill out online. It’s for soulmates who have recently bonded. It’ll get us out of classes, just – please, please don’t leave.”
“I don’t have extra clothes on me or a toothb—”
“You can borrow my clothes. You’ll drown in them because you’re so tiny,” Aang laughs, hoarse, sliding shaking fingers into her unbound hair. “And I have an extra toothbrush you can use. We’ll figure it out, Toph, please.”
What the fuck, what the fuck—
“Alright.” She closes her eyes, surrendering herself to raw instinct by sticking her nose to the skin underneath his jaw. “I’ll stay.”
‘
“Choose well. A sky bison is a companion for life.”
He’s holding an apple in his hands and his legs are jittery – like it’s impossible for him to stay still. The baby bisons are circling their mother in the air and his breath catches because he’s never wanted anything more in his life.
There’s a small bison just a few feet away, looking like it’s waiting for him. It appears to be the runt of the litter, but that’s okay because he’s the smallest in his class too. If it accepts him, then perhaps they can grow together.
Biting his lip, he carefully approaches the small bison and offers the apple to it.
It – no, the bison is a he – sniffs the fruit along with his extended hand before opening his mouth expectantly.
He tosses the apple in and allows himself to pet the bison on the nose while the latter chews. He doesn’t expect the bison to nuzzle into his touch with a pleased rumble, but the creature does anyway, leaning too far in until he loses his balance and falls on his rear end. The bison licks at the whole of his face, pulling happy giggles from his mouth and he knows, then and there, that he’s found the one.
“I guess this means we’ll always be together,” he smiles wide, hands rubbing on either side of the creature’s muzzle—
‘
Toph blinks awake to find herself plastered to Aang’s back with both of her arms snaked around his chest. One of his hands is clasped in hers, their fingers twined, and she has a leg thrown over his hip as if she’s slept with him like this their whole lives.
His bedroom is small and simple, but there’s a slight airiness to it that reminds her of the temple in her dreams – or not dreams, apparently. She sees this temple in the sky in quick flashes while she’s awake too, and if they don’t show her in the company of monks, then it’s always with that six-legged bison.
“I can hear you thinking,” Aang mumbles sleepily.
She presses her face to his shoulder. “Shit, did I wake you up?”
“Yeah, you waking up actually yanked me out of sleep too.” Gently tightens his fingers around hers, reassures her that he’s not upset. “It’s not a big deal. What’s bothering you?”
I think I’m seeing your memories from a past life never quite leaves Toph’s mouth.
“Nah, it’s nothing.”
And maybe that’s the wrong thing to say because Aang just turns in her hold and exhales into her neck, slipping his arms around her waist. His fingers tease the hem of a shirt that’s too big on her and he asks in a hushed tone if it’s okay. Toph nods, her skin shivering in loose delight once his palm slides underneath the shirt to splay itself flat against the small of her back.
The moonlight peeking through the curtains shows her one side of his face – the argent in his eyes, the fan of his inky lashes, the indent of his cheekbone. Objectively, he’s stunning, so she could have done a whole lot worse.
“You know I can tell you’re lying, right?” The corner of Aang’s mouth lifts, amused. “I can feelthat something’s wrong.”
“Can we just—” Opens her mouth and shuts it, frustrated inside. He rubs his thumb in calming circles against Toph’s skin and she still doesn’t know if she likes how one touch can clear her muddled thoughts just like that. “Can we just pretend that we don’t have some weird telepathic-empathic thing between us? Just for tonight at least? Fuck, it’s a lot to unpack on the first day.”
His hurt is muffled, but it’s there and she feels it her chest, taking root. “You think it’s weird?” he whispers, sounding like an open wound.
“Doesn’t this freak you out?”
“Yes, of course it does.”
But underneath the blanket of her own emotions, she senses fear for this bond. Fear at the thought of Toph rejecting him so quickly. She tightens her leg over his hip instinctively, telling him no, she’s not rejecting him. She doesn’t think that’s even possible at this point.
He presses a smile into her clavicle, relieved. “Do you remember dinner? When you were groaning after taking the first few bites of the pasta?”
Toph blushes. “Don’t make fun of me! I didn’t know artichoke sauce was even thing!” Or so delicious. “I was caught off guard, okay?”
“You were happy eating what I made for you and I felt that happiness,” Aang says, so soft. “It felt beautiful. You felt beautiful, Toph.”
(And I’d give you the whole world to keep you happy forever, he sings into her veins even if he doesn’t realize it yet, even if he’s just as scared and lost as she is.)
What an optimstic fool he is. “I might drive you nuts,” Toph throws back instead.
“Oh, I know you will.”
She pinches Aang’s side, cackling at his high-pitched shriek even when the sharpness of her index finger and thumb on his skin echoes against her own.
‘
“Where the hell have you been!”
“Chill, Sparky,” is Toph’s lazy response as she waltzes into her apartment, leading Aang in by their tangled fingers. “I texted you.”
“‘Be back in a week, dude’ doesn’t give me much to go by. A fucking week? You could have been dead for all I knew!”
“Stop projecting your sibling issues onto me. I’m here, aren’t I? Besides, when you found Sokka and Suki, the three of you didn’t leave your room for more than a week, you dirty hyprocrite!”
“At least you knew where I was the whole—” Zuko abruptly closes his mouth, his gaze darting to the towering man at Toph’s heels. “Aang? Wait, how do you two know each other?”
Toph lifts both their arms, showing him the fresh knitted vines gleaming on their skin. “He’s my soulmate. How do you two know each other?”
“I know Sokka and Sukki,” Aang chimes in cheerfully. “Wow, what a small world, huh?”
“How’d you two—”
“Anyway,” she interrupts brashly, not in the mood to retell their romantic, fateful meeting at Walmart, “Aang’s gonna be staying here for a week and then I’ll go back to his place for another week, and so on and blah blah. At least until the bond settles. You get it. Let us know when dinner’s ready,” she adds, practically yanking at Aang until they’re both confined in her bedroom.
Aang taps the end of her nose. “That was mean.”
“Please,” Toph makes a point of rolling her eyes. “Zuko barely said a word to me after touching the other two. They burst into the apartment like a fucking hurricane, almost doing it right there in our living room. So fucking rude.”
‘
She’s in the shower when she suddenly feels absolute terror choking at her, nearly making her slip on the tiles.
Toph barely wraps herself up in a towel before she’s barging out of the bathroom, extremely thankful that her room’s close by. Aang’s on the floor, back leaning against the frame of her bedroom door, quivering fingers curled around one of her older sketchbooks. Aang blindly reaches for her when she approaches, pulling her down onto his lap and burying half of his face into her shoulder blade.
“Is my art that terrifying?” Toph tries to joke, but he doesn’t even smile.
The drawing had been done in charcoal, dark and blurry around the edges, and she almost doesn’t remember drawing it. There’s an enormous centipede thing crawling out of a cave, its legs reaching out to take, to steal. The only colors on the sketch are the red lips and the grey eye markings of the Noh mask it’s wearing on its face, but she’s not sure if that makes it better or worse.
Aang’s voice is a quiet, little thing when he asks, “Where did you see this creature?”
(“My old friend, the Avatar,” the monster utters in a serpentine hiss. “It’s been a long time.”
“You know me?”
“How could I forget you? One of your previous incarnations tried to slay me,” it accuses, the white mask flickering into the face of an older man with a mustache and a long beard, “maybe eight or nine hundred years ago.”
“I didn’t know that.” It’s difficult, keeping his emotions out of both his face and voice. “Why did he – or I – try to kill you?”
The thing changes again – a beautiful woman this time, with long brown hair and familiar, sad eyes.
“Oh, it was something about stealing the face of someone you loved.”)
“A nightmare, I think,” Toph answers carefully. “Actually, you know what—”
She rips the page out of the sketchbook and crumples it tightly in her first. It feels like an ugly omen against her palm, riddled with malice and sadism, and she chucks it into her trash can.
“You didn’t have to do that. That was your work,” Aang murmurs, his guilt gnawing at her.
“It was a creepy-ass drawing. I don’t know what I was thinking when I drew that.” Pause. “I have better stuff on my desktop if you want to look.”
He kisses her shoulder, smiling sweetly. “I hope the creatures on there are less frightening.”
“Don’t be such a wuss. Wanna see what a badgermole looks like?”
‘
After their soulbond settles, they’ve learned that they can get through the day by themselves relatively alright as long as there was skin-to-skin contact for at least an hour beforehand. It no longer hurts to be away from Aang, but it is uncomfortable as fuck, like an itch burning inside that’s screaming at her to scratch it until it’s bloody and raw.
Which is fine.
So ridiculously fine.
The lecture is a drone in the back of Toph’s mind as she doodles along the corner of her notebook page to take her mind off the itch. The mintiness of the gum she’s snacking on ebbs away suddenly, turning into something vastly different.
She chews again, tasting raspberries, fruit juice, bananas, and...almond milk?
Aang is waiting for her outside the door when her class ends and as soon as he sees her, his entire face lights up like the sun. His content rolls over Toph in a soothing whisper and she subconsciously mimics his smile, her body humming with want.
In spite of the protesting noise she makes, Aang scoops her up in his arms until her feet are dangling above the ground. He nuzzles his cheek to hers, his breath warm against the ridge of her ear, and he twirls them once because he can’t help himself. She hisses at him to put her down, but it doesn’t really bother her as it normally would with literally anyone else.
“Did you have a smoothie?” Toph asks.
“Yeah.” He keeps his hands pasted to her hips, his eyes bright with excitement. “I tasted the gum you were chewing earlier.”
“I want to say that I’m surprised, but am I really at this point?”
A deep chuckle as he cups her face in his palms. “Don’t be so glum. Think of all the possibilities! What if you’re really hungry, but you don’t have time to get food because you’re taking a test or something? I could eat something and you’d be able to taste it.”
“Oh, yeah, super cool. What if you’re hungry and I decide to get a hamburger?”
He blinks, his grin faltering. “I’m vegan, Toph. You know that—”
“You’re not actually eating it – you’re only getting a taste. Like you said, all the possibilities. You ever want to try a steak? Or a milkshake with actual milk?”
Toph bites back a smile, doing a poor job of concealing how much she really enjoys it when he gets all flustered.
‘
“Do you believe in reincarnation?”
“You drunk already?” Sokka passes a bemused glance at her. “I don’t remember you being that much of a lightweight.”
It’s warm in the bar – she can tell by the slight flush on Sokka’s cheeks that has nothing to do with being intoxicated – but Toph still burrows her nose deeper into the wool scarf coiled around her neck, still tightens her coat around her. Aang may be on the other side of the city, but he’s somewhere outdoors, somewhere cold, and the alcohol isn’t making her any warmer.
Aang doesn’t do well in colder weather, but he’s having fun with his friends even if he’s getting the both of them sick. She can feel him missing her, missing the press of her fingers on his skin even though they’d seen each other hours ago.
“You have two soulmates,” Toph grumbles. “The idea of past lives shouldn’t be that fucking implausible.”
His shoulder gently bumps against hers. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“I’m not upset—”
“Okay, okay, let’s start over,” Sokka smiles at her, completely genuine and not at all mocking. “Why do you suddenly believe in reincarnation?”
“I have these dreams,” she says, her brows knitting together as she curls her hands tighter around her glass. “Well, I used to think they were dreams, but then I’d see something while I’m awake. They’re always about Aang in this completely different life and it’s like I’m a passenger in his body, just going through the motions.”
“And you think these things are actually his memories from a past life.”
Toph exhales quietly, the lines of her body losing their tautness. She feels mildly less insane now that someone’s acknowledged it for her.
“They feel too real to just be my imagination. It’s always him in the same timeline.”
Sokka hums, thoughtful. “Maybe they are his memories, Toph. Who knows? Soulbonds can’t be explained, but people accept them anyway. For what it’s worth, I believe you.”
“If this is you making fun of me, I swear to—”
“No, I really mean it! Like, if I didn’t end up with Suki and Zuko – or either of them – in a previous life and reincarnation’s just a thing that’s giving me a second chance to actually be with them, then that’s pretty cool. Fate’s doing me a solid.”
“Second chances,” Toph muses, more to herself than anything.
“Yeah, why not?” He downs the rest of his glass. “On a side note, what else are you feeling from Aang since the bond started? Something tells me you guys are...not normal.”
Toph starts to respond, but then she hunches over the counter, shoulders shaking. It slams into her out of nowhere and she has to clamp both her hands over her mouth to muffle the uncontrollable laughter. She’s yanked further and further into Aang’s joy, feeling it so keenly that the corners of her eyes begin to prickle with tears.
“What is happening,” Sokka blurts, alarmed and concerned. “Are you having a stroke—”
“One of Aang’s friends did something stupid and funny,” she hiccups out in short breaths, still guffawing. “It might – it might have been Bumi.”
Sokka gawks at her, frozen in place. He then orders another round of drinks for the both of them.
‘
Monk Gyatso lies against the wall, just bones and dust, and the omniscient rage of a thousand lives sinks down on him—
‘
The weight of his grief completely buries Toph, so much that she collapses in a public restroom. Her fingers scrabble at the tiles beneath her, desperate to clutch onto something, anything, as the memory consumes her. Something vibrates in her pocket for a long, long time, but she’s too busy screaming soundlessly into her palm to notice.
Panic slips into Toph, making her blood run cold, and the longer she ignores her phone, the more frenetic her soulmate feels—
“Toph?” is his voice on the other line, wildly frantic, when she finally answers the call. “Did someone hurt you? What’s wrong, where are—”
“I—” Her breath comes out in harsh pants. “It’s o-okay. You don’t need to come.”
Rustling, like Aang’s already preparing to step out. “No, no, that’s not what it feels like,” he argues softly, and now there’s pain in his voice because she won’t let him come to her, won’t let him take care of her—
Her chest squeezes tighter, aching. “I slipped. I’m, uh, good now.”
“Toph, please.” His voice breaks and she screws her eyes shut, tasting saltwater in her mouth. “Please let me come to you. Tell me where you are.”
So she whispers back that she’s at the tea shop near their school, the one owned by Zuko’s uncle.
Aang rushes into the women’s restroom ten minutes later – a feat in itself, considering the usual commute is twice that amount – and she’s never wanted him to see her like this, hunched under one of the sinks and sobbing over a memory that isn’t even hers.
He sucks in a sharp breath like Toph’s pain cleaves him. His eyes are red-rimmed and she can’t even look at him because she’s so sorry. She’s sorry that he’s lost his people, sorry that he’s lost his home, sorry that he’s lost his entire culture.
The way he stalks over to her is noiseless, ghostlike even, and then he’s plucking up all the bird bones of Toph’s body, folding himself around her and concealing her from the rest of the world. It makes her cry harder, if anything, to the point where she’s dry-heaving against his chest, but it helps when she pushes her hands under his shirt to touch the tight skin around his hips.
She tells him everything. That he was raised by Air Nomads in another life. That he was something called the Avatar. That they lived in a world where people could manipulate the elements as they pleased.
That they lived during a long, long war.
“You controlled the element of air first,” Toph rasps out later, when it finally doesn’t feel like her lungs are going to give out on every inhale. “You and Appa got caught in this storm, and then you did something that left you frozen at the bottom of an ocean. Katara and Sokka found you, but when you came back to the Southern Air Temple, everyone was dead and it had only felt like you left days ago, but a fucking century passed—”
To his credit, Aang doesn’t once ask who Appa is or what the Southern Air Temple is supposed to be. His heart beats faster and his skin jolts at the familiarity of her words, but he holds her still.
“Breathe, T,” he says, rocking her, sweeping her dark hair away from her neck so that he can kiss the small space behind her ear.
She does. Inhales for four seconds, exhales for six—
It’s a breathing technique that Monk Gyatso had taught Aang. Had taught her.
Their soulmarks cling to each other distressingly, her aurelian leaves and vines overlapping his.
“Do you ever dream of me?” Toph asks, calmer.
“I have many daydreams about you.” And that’s mischief slanted against her nape, rounded out by his mouth. He’s soft and playful now, making her sink further into his embrace. “When your memories come to me, I don’t actually see anything.”
Tries not to be too disappointed. “Oh.”
“No,” Aang smudges a smile against the corner of her mouth, gently thumbing a tear-stained cheek. “You were blind in your last life, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t see. You didn’t need to. You felt these vibrations in the earth and it allowed you to see and hear things no one else could. You were the greatest earthbender that ever lived.”
“She sounds way cooler than me.”
He tips her face up. “You’re just as cool as she is,” Aang breathes, and there’s a brush of lips against hers, slow and sweet. “Just as beautiful.”
(I found you again, her soul thrums out, the loudest it’s ever been inside her.)
Toph twists in his arms, chasing after his mouth. It’s almost too much and not enough at the same time, tasting his honeyed delight and feeling it mingle with her own. His hands shove themselves up her sweater to frame the space of her back as he parts his mouth, allowing her to—
“Gee, it looks like you guys are fine in here,” comes a monotonous drawl that has them breaking apart, sputtering. “And here I was, worried for no apparent reason.”
“Mai!” Aang practically yells, his ears turning beet red. “When did you – why are—”
The other girl waves a dismissive hand. “Toph and I were going over work. What was supposed to be a five-minute restroom break turned into a forty-minute one,” she adds pointedly, raising a brow.
“Sorry,” Toph says sheepishly. “I had a thing. Like a panic attack or whatever. It’s gone now, so no biggie.”
Aang, severely disagreeing with her on that last statement, wraps her up tighter in his arms.
“We’ll continue tomorrow,” Mai says then, and it may just be Toph’s imagination, but she thinks she sees the former’s face soften a bit. “Get some rest.”
After Mai leaves, Aang plays with her loose hair. “We should probably leave too.”
“Yeah.”
But Toph’s leaning in, pausing only a few inches away from his lips and grinning when he automatically closes the distance. She feels that buzzing of happiness again and whether it’s his or hers, it doesn’t matter.
‘
Aang’s shoulders are still quivering as he drops shaky, open-mouthed kisses along the crease of her hip. He’s been pulled apart to pieces, beautifully and painstakingly, and the remnants of bliss still drumming within him makes it slow to put those pieces back together.
She only knows because she feels the exact same way. She feels everything.
“You’ve ruined me for anyone else.” His voice is wrecked and his lips are so kiss-swollen, but he’s still this hopelessly exotic thing sprawled between her legs. There’s an indelible glaze to his to expression that makes him look so thoroughly fucked, and when he rests his chin on her stomach and looks up at her with soft, needy eyes, something inside her chest just melts.
“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Toph husks out with a laugh.
“Yeah, why didn’t we,” he murmurs back, still loopy, nosing the skin around her navel.
Toph strokes her fingers along the arrow inked on his head, pulling a quiet mewl from him. The arrow tattoos on his body are the same design, the same placement – just the wrong shade of blue. These lines are darker than the ones she sees in his memories.
Maybe the effervesent, illuminating blue that once marked Aang as an airbendering master doesn’t exist in this world.
“Can you skip your classes tomorrow?” he asks.
“Why?”
His answer is a trail of wet kisses up the flat stretch of her belly. “Because I want to keep doing this.”
“Really.” Toph plays off as nonchalant, even when her heart skips a beat. “You want to render us incapable of walking by the time we’re done?”
“Toph, I don’t think I’m able to walk now,” Aang chuckles, before looking up at her from beneath his lashes, coy. “But I still want you in my bed whether we’re having sex or not. I just want you.”
His want reverbrates in the apex of Toph’s thighs and she wishes she can be as open as he is. She wants him in her bed forever, but the words become stifled in her throat, never leaving her mouth. He smiles at her though, tender and adoring, like he knows what she’s trying to say.
She rolls them over, straddling his hips. Gratification seeps into her at the way his pupils dilate, at the way he takes her in breathlessly.
‘
He’s upset – so very, very upset – and she doesn’t know why.
Toph feels it two blocks away from his apartment and it spurs her to walk faster, to the point where she’s running.
After letting herself in, she finds Aang leaning over the kitchen counter, the stiff lines of his back obvious through his thin shirt. She leans her back against the counter and presses her elbow to the nimble fingers constricted around dark granite.
“What’s up, grumpy?”
Her soulmate breathes out noisily, his shoulders bunching forward like he’s trying to make himself much smaller than he is. He doesn’t turn to face her, doesn’t immediately trap her in his arms like he usually would after a long day apart. He leans against her though, heavy, part of him trying to disappear into the pale abyss of her skin.
“We weren’t married to each other,” Aang whispers, horrified. “I was married to someone else. A non-bender, I think. I don’t recognize her voice.”
And there’s really no point in getting angry with Aang or this mystery woman because the past is the past, but jealousy festers anyway, scratching at her bones. She tries to taper down it to keep him from feeling it, but he flinches, looking even more miserable than before.
She tries for apathy then: “So? It was in the past – a past we’re only barely starting to get details from.”
“But I was still seeing you. I had kids with this woman, but I was still sneaking around with you—”
“Okay, so I was a side chick. Whatever, that’s fine—”
“It’s not fine,” a muscle in his jaw jumps, “none of this was fine. I’m seeing this from your persepective, remember? You weren’t okay with this.”
“Why does it fucking matter?” Toph spits, a small part of her regretting it when Aang’s mouth pinches into a thin line. “Maybe we never got together. Maybe sex on the the side was our only option. Whatever the fuck we did in that lifetime, it’s got nothing to do with what we have in this one!”
(“She’s beautiful,” he murmurs, gazing down at the newborn. “Did you decide on a name?”
“Suyin’s kind of pretty. Has a nice ring to it.”
Tightly swallows. “Toph, is she – is she mine?”
“Don’t worry about it,” the woman in bed mumbles. “It’s not your problem.”
“But—”
“I’m not repeating myself, Twinkletoes. And she doesn’t belong to anyone but me.”)
Then Aang grazes her side with feather-light hands, silently asking for permission. She’s still bristling in her skin, but he makes the frustration and shame go away with just a brush of his palms on her body.
She wants to stay mad at him, wants to stew in silence all by herself, but she physically can’t, not when he’s already made a home for himself in the space of her ribs.
Toph pulls him in with an incoherent grumble, binding her arms around his torso to anchor him back to earth because he feels like he’s going to float away. He shivers against her, mouthing soft apologies against the column of neck as he clings onto her. Even on her tiptoes, her head barely reaches his chin, but she leans on them anyway because she doesn’t want him breaking his neck trying to bury himself in hers.
“Maybe I leave my wife when our kids are older,” he says, his teeth scraping over her shoulder. “I leave her for you.”
“You really think that happened?”
“Yes,” comes Aang’s response, but even that sounds a little unsure. Like he desperately wants it to be true. The uncertainity makes him press into her until there’s no visible space left between them. “Why wouldn’t I do that for you? We’re soulmates. I don’t believe in any lifetime where you’re not always by my side.”
Toph rolls her eyes. “You’re such an embarassing idiot sometimes.”
Aang smiles, his tongue flicking against her jawline. Heat simmers at the pit of Toph’s stomach, rising languidly, and his hands are at the back of her thighs. “I need you,” he sighs, catching her mouth with his.
“I know, you dumb airhead.”
She quickly finds herself hoisted onto the counter before she’s tipping her head back, letting him unbutton her flannel and kiss his way down—
‘
“Don’t worry,” Katara says. “We’ll find you a teacher. There are plenty of amazing earthbenders out there.”
There’s a deep wrongness in him as he stares back at Gaoling. Like he’s making a mistake by just giving up and leaving—
“Not like her.”
After he climbs onto Appa with reluctance, he doesn’t immediately lift the reins. Sometimes, there are rewards to being patient, to sitting still and letting the winds carry their answers to you. When he listens to the currents around him, he catches a flurry of hurried footsteps headed in their direction.
Delicate hope grows in his chest.
“Toph!” Happiness etches itself onto his face, wide and open, when the small girl runs out of the forest. “What are you doing here?”
“My dad changed his mind. He said I was free to travel the world.”
It’s a bold-faced lie.
But when Toph smiles, something inside his own stomach flutters wildly—
‘
“Are you alright, miss?” a voice asks, waking her, his mouth lightly tracing the curve of her ear.
“Fuck off,” Toph mumbles, still face down on the table, in spite of her fingers reaching out to rest along the nape of his neck. The taste of coffee – the strong kind – lingers on her tongue. “M’ tired. Why’d you drink coffee? And a goddamn red eye at that.”
Aang tugs at her hair teasingly. “Because I almost fell asleep while driving over here to get you.”
“Ugh, you’re going to keep me up all night.”
“I can think of a few things we could do to pass the time,” Aang smirks, nuzzling his nose along her cheekbone. “Or, well, one specific thing actually—”
Toph snorts. “Dork.”
He snatches her up, fingers digging into her side as he drags her onto his lap. Peals of laughter escape her while he tickles her relentlessly, so much that the harder she laughs, the more she feels him eventually shaking with laughter too, amplifying the sensation. One of the campus librarians shushes them sharply and she feels Aang hiding his face into her throat to escape the blame.
“What’s that?” he inquiries out of nowhere then, reaching for something on the table—
“No snooping!” Toph hisses without any real heat, swatting his hand out of the way to shove the tiny book into her backpack.
It’s a flipbook that she’s still working on, showing Aang peacefully bending all four elements. She had originally wanted to illustrate him kicking Ozai’s ass, but she doubts he would like the violence of it, so she’d gone with this instead.
Aang perks up in excitement. “Is it for me? My birthday’s in a couple of weeks, you know.”
Rolls her eyes. “Just wait and find out, Twinkletoes.”
She stands up in an attempt to gather her things, but as soon as she does, the feeling of a thousand pins pricking at her legs washes over.
“Your legs are numb,” Aang glances over with both bemusement and sympathy, on the verge of discomfort himself. “Here, I’ll carry you.”
“Nah, let’s just wait—”
But Aang pulls her arms over his shoulders, picking Toph up until she’s literally hanging onto his back, before he grabs her backpack. She hates being picked up in any manner, but it’s a losing battle with a cheerfully persistant soulmate like him. She yanks on the lobes of his ears, but he just grins, hitching her body higher.
“Yip-yip,” Toph says.
“Do I look like a flying bison to you?”
“You’re right, that was a terrible comparison,” she replies. “Appa is obviously a hundred times better than you.”
Aang makes an affronted noise, but Toph rests her head on his shoulder blade and kisses the elegant line of his neck, placating him. The brisk air hits her face once he walks out of the library and Toph tucks her face harder into his skin.
“I had a dream that you were looking for someone to teach you earthbending,” she whispers, wistful and smug. “You wouldn’t settle for anyone but me. Said I was the best out of all of them.”
“There’s no one else like you,” Aang replies easily, thumbing nonsensical patterns under her thighs.
He’d said that in his past life as well.
“Hey, Aang?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t think we ended up together.” Because the snippets of his memories where he’s an adult are a lot sadder, filled with such hurt and longing. “I think we might have crashed and burned.”
Aang breath falters in her ear and he grips her harder, refusing to lose her to their past failures, to whatever broke them.
“We’ll do better this time, T.”
‘
(And they do.)
‘ [end notes:
BSSU = Ba Sing Se University
To clarify, what's normal for soulmates in this universe - (1) soulmarks appear as soon as soulmates touch each other (2) the need to be touching - the limits of this can vary with every soulmate bond, it all just depends.
As you can see with Aang and Toph, they obviously have a lot more going on with the XD
I hope this wasn't too confusing with the way Toph was receiving Aang's memories. Anything in italics was her seeing a memory. If anything was in parenthesis, that meant that Toph experienced the memory before the present time. Let me know if the italicized text isn’t showing like it does on the ao3 link. Tumblr’s being shitty for some reason.
If this was all confusing anyway, go ahead and yell at me]
#taang#aang#toph#aang/toph#modern au#soulmate au#soulmates#reincarnation#atla#avatar#avatar the last airbender#taangweek#taang week 2020#fanfics#teabag fics
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Daybreak | Part Eighteen
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?
Summary: Part eighteen of this fic. Steve and Nine must leave the house and stumble upon — ?
Word Count: 3,300 +
Warning(s): Cussing
A/N: Yay! I think that I have an idea of where the next few chapters are going (and then... *whispers* conclusion?) Enjoy!
P.S. watch Joe Keery’s new movie Spree! I did! It’s great! :-)
The two sat in Steve’s familiar car (doors locked, double-checked) with the windows down, breeze against both of their faces as he cruised down even more familiar roads. They had made a successful escape through his bedroom window earlier: Steve first, Nine second with a perhaps overly-cautious helping hand to guide her down. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier,” Steve said when her shoes hit the pavement of his back patio. He hadn’t bid farewell to either one of his parents, but it wasn’t necessary as long as they couldn’t find him if they went looking.
After a solid half-hour of aimless loops around town, the car’s gaslight began to blink. “Shit,” Steve muttered, turning the wheel down a new road. “I have to stop to get gas,” he said, his head drifting from the road to glance to his passenger. “It will only take a minute,” he reassured.
Five more minutes and he pulled in slowly to a gas station, exhaling with relief at it’s empty state. “You can stay in the car,” he told Nine. She looked to him and nodded with a smile, happy to oblige. He slung his door open lazily, exiting the car as Nine shifted in her seat. She pulled her left arm in front of her, eyes catching the vibrancy of red leaking through layers of white bandage it wore. Warily, she dragged a finger against the stain, and took it away to see that same red on her finger pad. “Shit,” she said, copying Steve.
He returned to his seat, a gas pump sticking out of the side of the car where he had been standing. Sitting again, he gazed over at Nine. “Oh,” he said, then turning in his seat so that he could see her better. He caught sight of her concern and reached out a hand. “Here, lemme see,” he said gently. She offered him her arm and he turned it tenderly, assessing the damage of the day’s activities. “There’s a small store down the road from here. We can stop there and pick up some more bandages, fix you up,” he proposed. The gas pump clicked, signaling that the tank was full.
The newly-filled-up car pulled into a parking place in front of an indeed small store, and once again Steve was reassured by the lack of action in the lot. There were a couple more vehicles than the gas station (which had been completely empty) held, but none of them were tall, white vans that implied severe danger. He made sure to check, as if a five-second head start to peel out of the storefront would make all the difference if one had been there. “I’ll be right back, any requests?” Steve asked Nine as he stood, a hand on the top of the car as he leaned down to peer in from outside.
“Can I come with you?” she asked.
“Uh… I meant, like, snack requests,” he replied, his words stalling as he thought over his ask. “But, um, you can. Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Nine said, a hand reaching to unbuckle her seat belt. She took the hat that had been sitting on the dashboard from its last use as she slid from the car.
She jogged around the front of the car to Steve and he laughed quietly. They walked together now, and he slung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards him with ease. His forearm draped down her front side as he spoke softly, something close to a whisper-in-her-ear. “You know, I’m starting to think that the hat doesn’t do much,” he teased. She pulled her head back, looking at him with the beginnings of a smile. A hand reached up from her side and she plucked it from herself. Holding it by the brim, she pulled it down over Steve’s head instead. “Hey! Not cool,” he said, flicking up the front of the hat that had covered his eyes. He took the hat off and gave his head a shake in an attempt to fix his hair from it’s damage. “It looks better on you, anyway,” he admitted, placing it back on Nine’s head and dragging his hand down the front of the brim to cover her eyes as it had his. She tossed her head up to give Steve a bemused smile from underneath the hat’s cover.
The store was mostly empty when they walked in. The buzzing of some unrecognizable song played through speakers too cheap to work without the hum of electrical problems masking the music’s lyrics. The cashier supposed-to-be greeter didn’t look up from her magazine when the bell in front of the door rang to signify their entry, but the two wandered past her without care anyway. A few steps down one aisle and the shuffling of objects in the neighboring one made Steve creep backwards, stretching out his neck to peek around the corner at the commotion.
Joyce Byers stood, far too occupied to notice spying Steve, using one arm to shovel boxes of Christmas lights into her cart, and the other to keep the cart steady. He contemplated her actions for a moment — squinted confusion — then reached a hand out in front of him to gently grab for Nine who was a slow step ahead of him and unaware of his departure. She twisted around lightly at the sensation of his touch (fingertips brushing her arm, just out of reach) then sent him a puzzled look of which he did not see. He pulled himself back up then, and whispered so only Nine would hear.
“Will’s mom is here, I have to talk to her,” he informed, throwing in a “she’s trustworthy,” afterwards to settle her nerves about being seen.
Rounding the corner, Steve hesitated with his introduction, wondering if he should clear his throat like he had caught Joyce in the middle of something. “Hi, Ms. Byers,” he called out, a little bit of something — perhaps he adopted a shyness — to his voice.
She turned around sharply, bumping her arm against the handle of her cart and rattling the contents inside. Stacks of the Christmas lights Steve had watched her throw into a pile sat on top of a few lamps as the foundation of her basket. She would hit the light bulb section next, not bothering to count the number she’d need for however many lamps she had claimed before sweeping them on top of the pile. Her hair fell in front of her face as she jolted to Steve’s voice, and a hand reached up quickly to tuck it behind her ear — an action taken less to look presentable and more to be able to see whoever was advancing on her. Shoulders deflating from the scare, Joyce sighed and tried on a smile that looked a little too forced. “Hi, Steve,” she returned.
“We- uh. We were just here to pick up a few things and saw you,” he started explaining his hello. “Oh. This is Nina, she’s a friend,” he said, lifting a hand to waver in front of Nine as he introduced her politely. Joyce, as if she hadn’t even noticed the girl, lit up her face in a look of corrective surprise. “Oh!” she sang, another solemn grin but also an accompanying hand stretched out for a shake. Nine, caught a little off-guard herself, took the handshake with a kind smile. “Hi,” she said, pondering a second after if she should tell Joyce it’s ‘nice to meet her,’ (people say that, right?) then realizing that she waited too long to decide. Steve sweeped the conversation right back up anyways.
“How are you? Um- like, is there anything we can do?” he said, unable to decide on a question. How is one supposed to speak to someone with a missing child? What are the right things to say? Did he already mess up? He wondered for a second if this was one of those situations where you just don’t mention the elephant in the room, it’d be rude to bring it up. He then mentally scolded himself for even considering that to be the right route to take. It’d be inconsiderate not to, he assured himself.
Nine could have sworn she saw Joyce flinch when he asked his questions, as if it would break the role of happy mother she was playing to answer them. “Um - you know -” (he didn’t) “Just doing everything I can. I think people are starting to think I’m crazy”. She tried to laugh, but it came out sounding even more forced than the smile had appeared.
Steve held his breath a moment, replaying the mental picture that had been on loop in his mind since Dustin told him Will was missing. The mental picture of Will himself, the night Steve and Nine dropped him off at home, opening the door to his house and disappearing inside. Steve worried repeatedly if this particular moment he had often called upon was a mix-up, a recollection of a different night he had conveniently changed the time stamp on. He kept asking himself if he really saw Will go inside that night. He did, right? It wasn’t just his guilty subconscious protecting him by substituting memories, right?
“You’re not crazy,” Nine unexpectedly spoke. Steve glanced at her then quickly retreated his gaze.
“Thank you,” Joyce said with a sincere smile that faded into silence.
Wanting to recover, Steve opened his mouth to speak again, but Joyce turned suddenly to gesture to her cart. “I guess this doesn’t really help my look,” she said as she peered over the mountain of electrical supplies.
“What is it all for?” Steve asked, thankful for both the recoup in conversation and new attention paid to the second elephant in the room.
Joyce shifted on her feet, hesitant and unsure of how to continue. She was starting to realize her lack of skill in answering questions. “I- I’m going to sound… I’m going to sound delusional,” she said. For the first time in the conversation her voice fizzled out, became weaker with clear indication of tears that wished to join the dialogue. “I feel like Will is trying to communicate with me”.
Steve’s eyebrows jumped and he staggered over a reply. “Wh- wait, what? Did he call or something? Did someone take him-” he stopped as Joyce began to shake her head.
“No, no, nothing like that. He just…” she trailed off, refusing eye contact as she searched for the words. “The lights”.
“The lights?” Steve glanced at her shopping cart once more.
“They flicker. And I know it doesn’t make sense but- but I feel like it’s him.”
There is another silence as the two process Joyce’s words - interpretations independent of one another withheld from sharing as she waits for a reaction. Steve first considers the woman in front of him, her cart of lights and missing child, and has to wonder if she is (as politely as he could put it) losing it. He then acknowledges the woman to the side of him, steals another glance in her direction as he remembers how he met her and what she can do, the reason they’re in the store in the first place and how they came to be in the situation. Maybe Joyce was doing just fine.
Nine’s head quirked as she tilted it a little in confusion. Confusion or realization — her mind connecting dots, checking boxes on a recently developed mental checklist that helps her decide if something is just peculiar enough to be related back to her. Flickering lights, like the flashlights Steve, Dustin, and her swung from limp wrists in the forest. Flickering lights, like the ones above her head in the lab that made her close her eyes tight when her powers left them flashing too erratically.
“You feel like it’s Will?” Steve said. The realization began to dawn on him that this is a heavy conversation to be having in a shitty, run-down store that’s only still in business because the town it’s in is too small to let it die. And so he deliver’s his response a tad quieter, suddenly itching for a bit more privacy.
“I know how it sounds… but that’s why-” and she gestured to her cart again. “I have to find out”.
“No- um,” Steve stumbles for a logical response. “I get it,” he tells her, “you’d do anything to find him”.
Nine hadn’t gotten a chance to choke over her own response. Instead she was still thinking up ways she could somehow help the woman she had just met who stood sad and small in front of her.
Steve inhaled, cutting short her chance as he redirected the conversation. “Well we- we’re just here for some bandages. Um-” Is it rude to just shift the topic like this? He’s second-guessing himself more often than he’s used to. “Nina scraped herself up pretty bad earlier.” Nine looks down at her arm, a problem completely forgotten from her mind despite the still growing red leak showing through the bandage. It was stinging, too, she remembered. “We’re here, though. Any help you need — we’re going to find Will. I know that,” he finished.
Consoling looks shared between thank-you’s concluded the conversation within the minute. Now the groups backed away from one another, heads turned to watch the departure and toss solemn smiles for the other to catch. A few awkward strides and Steve and Nine were rounding the corner of the isle, shuffling to redirect their attention back to their errands. Neither of them were brave enough to talk again with Joyce so close in the otherwise silent store. And so Steve led Nine down the closest row of shelves, eyes glossing over the products lined up on each one but not quite focused enough to register what they were (what did they even come here for, again?).
He moved hurriedly, putting as much space as possible between them and the woman he could only assume was still stockpiling light bulbs. On his third twist around an end-cap, Nine reached a hand out to grasp onto his wrist and stop him from continuing his march. He turned to her easily, eyebrows perked as if he didn’t understand why she stopped their search (...for… oh, yes! bandages). She kept her eyes on his face, and after a moment it gave into a look of distress; brows quirking again, this time dipping downwards with a sadness he wasn’t able to disguise anymore. Big brown eyes so somber, he looked like a puppy someone had just kicked.
“Steve,” Nine said, and her voice was pacifying — a quilted warmth that fit snug around his name.
A determined hand — the one Nine had dropped from her gentle hold — reached from his side and rubbed once underneath his eye. He hadn’t started crying yet but his vision was wet, and he was trying to scare the tears away. Unsettled breathes made his chest rise and fall quickly while he tried to catch up with his brain’s sudden increased demand for oxygen. Nine said his name again, conciliatory tone still present and pretty. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
He was looking down at her, but when he spoke he took his eyes away from hers. Instead his gaze darted around the store to fixate on anything else. “I can’t-” he started, his own voice weak and damaged from his body’s anxiety. He tried to center himself enough to talk, blinking irritatedly in an attempt to get rid of that threat of tears he hadn’t forgotten about. He was shaking his head now as he worked up the breath to continue, “I was responsible for her kid. She- she trusted me. I was supposed to get him home safe and now she has to deal with the fact that I failed.” He looked to her again — either her turn to react or his turn to take another breath.
“Steve, it’s not-”
“I can’t even remember if I made sure he got inside that night. I don’t know what happened and I’m too fucking stupid to remember.”
“Don’t say that,” Nine said, but her words were pushed away.
“She thinks she’s losing her mind. And she might be, I don’t even know, but I know I could have done something.” His words were picking up speed alongside his heaving chest. A tear finally escaped his vision but he was too focused on his speech of self-hatred to notice. It traced down the length of his cheek but he didn’t feel it.
“No you couldn’t have,” Nine told him, and she sounded sorry. “Steve, look at me”.
And he did, face still painted with pain. “You can’t remember that night because of shock. Your brain is trying to fixate on every detail but it can’t happen. You’re not stupid.” She said her words like she was so sure of them (because she was), but Steve looked skeptical at best. Nine continued anyway, reassurance incomplete and will with unwavering persistence. “You didn’t fail at anything. You’re a good friend to those kids and a good guardian, too. Something happened that night that was out of our control. Something from Hawkins’ Lab happened.”
He sighed this time, eyebrows furrowing as another tear dropped.
“You told me it wasn’t my fault that Will was taken, and now I’m telling you that it wasn’t yours, either.”
For a moment he simply thought about her words — a long moment that convinced her that he didn’t believe them. His lips parted to speak but he only took in air to hold it in his lungs. Another second passed and his shoulders fell; perhaps he was giving in. Giving into what she told him, giving into her, and he reached downwards to wrap his arms impulsively around her body still somehow warm from the outside sun. She let him, of course, and felt his fingers squeeze around the fabric of her shirt. With his head burrowed between her neck and her shoulder, his hold was desperate and he breathed out a huff of air that felt built up, heavy against her neck. She hugged him back, and while he closed his eyes tight, she understood that this was both a thank-you and a release.
-
A single bag with a lone item dangled from Steve’s grip as they walked, side-by-side again, through the parking lot. Joyce, a few minutes ahead of them, spun her cart around by the handle so that she could stack her purchases in the backseat of her car. Seeing her from afar, that nagging resumed in Nine’s head, reminding her of her aching desire to somehow help the woman.
“We have to help her,” Nine said, and her walking slowed. She didn’t look away from Joyce when Steve turned to face her, and she missed his visibly confused reaction. “What?” his disorientation still managed it’s way into his voice, though, and for a moment he thought that she meant they should assist Joyce with her shopping bags.
“We have to go to her house, see what she’s talking about”.
“Nine, hold on-”
“If she can contact Will then maybe I can figure out where he is. No more wandering around the forest unsure of what we’re even looking for. I can find him. I can actually find him this time and get him out of there. Steve, I-” she pulled her eyes away from Joyce and looked wildly at Steve.
“Wait, slow down,” he told her, jumbling to catch up with her rapidly developing plan.
“Steve, we can save him,” she said.
He paused at this, and the bag at his side swayed lightly. Then, looking off to where Nine had been so focused, he studied the woman so integral to the plan.
“Okay, I’m in. If you think we can save Will, I’m definitely in,” he told her, unmoving. He brought his head back to Nine after a moment of delay. “She doesn’t know… know about you, though. How are we going to… do this?”
Nine paused herself. “...I guess we let her know”.
---
A/N: Realizing how sad these characters have been these past few chapters... they’re going through a lot, okay?! Can’t promise it will get more uplifting right away, but I have... plans. Whatdoya think?
Tag List: @ggclarissa @gurl-ly @hyp-oh-critical @alewifex @we-are-band-sexuals @cpt-lamby @l0ve-0f-my-life @easvtohate @used-avocado @kwyloz @itzpikapie @samwise-babeyy @1985keery @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @mochminnie @peterwandaparker @ayamecrevan @lilyhw1 @seninjakitey @lulurose17 @write-from-the-heart @harringtonlr @sledgy14 @stranger-names
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine#st fic#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#ST fanfic#joe keery#joyce byers
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Banished (Part 43)
~Banished Master~
Paring: Bellamy Blake x Reader
Word Count: 10K (Okay, WTF Ria?)
~Master~
~The 100 Master~
*Based off episode 3x14 of The 100, Red Sky at Morning*
In the cell in Polis, Murphy, Pike, Indra, and the other grounders stayed put. Indra used her wall hook to try and break the wall around the hook of the woman next to her. “Indra, you don’t have to free me, the Skaikru plan is good.”
Indra didn’t look at her, only grunting as she spoke. “Running is not a plan.”
“It’s not running.” Murphy told her, shifting on the ground to look at her. “It’s surviving.” Indra sent him glare.
“For how long? This threat will find us eventually.”
“The boy is right. We regroup and come back later.” Pike groaned from across the room as Indra worked harder, digging her tool into the concrete. “It’s a legitimate battle strategy.”
Indra turned her head to snap at him. “I have a better one. Kill their leader. Jaha.” Murphy chuckled under his breath, falling back onto the ground with a smile.
“Now that is a plan I can support.” He joked. Pike sighed, shaking his head at the boy. “There’s just problem. Jaha isn’t their leader. He’s being controlled just like them by that-“ Murphy cut himself off, a scoff of realization crossing his mind.
“What?” Pike asked him, only to receive a slight head turn from the delinquent. Murphy shook off his question, choosing to keep the information to himself. “John, this isn’t the time for-“ Pike as well was cut off as the sound of a guard approaching the cell. Immediately, Indra stopped trying to free the woman and shoved her hook back into the wall. The keys of the cell jingled as they were shoved into the key slot and the cell doors opened. The cell fell silent as two burly guards walked in, scanning about the room.
“Who’s ready to take the key?” One of them asked but the already tense cell stayed quiet.
Pike took a deep breath, staring down the grounder man. “None of us is ever going to take that key.” The Grounder raised a brow at Pike, everyone stilling as the man walked the room toward him. He took in Pike’s appearance, ALIE standing right next to him as they looked at the cut littering his body.
“We didn’t do this to him.” ALIE informed him, her eyes widening. “Someone is unchained. Find them.” The second guard that walked in aimed his gun at everyone, the search for the unchained grounder commencing. Indra held onto her metal weapon, waiting for the grounder to reach her before removing it from the wall, stabbing it into his head. The man screamed at the impact, beginning to fall backwards. Indra swiped his knife off of him, throwing it into the chest of the other man, lodging it into his heart. ALIE disappeared as both men fell to the ground dead.
Murphy jumped to his feet, pulling his chains up with him. “Grab the keys.” He told Indra. “She’s going to send for reinforcements.” Indra didn’t listen to Murphy’s commands, instead grabbing another knife off the man and heading to Murphy.
She grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him to face her. “You said Jaha was controlled. Tell me what you know.”
“The smart play here is going for the tunnel while we sill can!” He tried to convince her, but Indra would not be deterred. The woman Indra was trying to free earlier had taken the key off the now deceased grounder went around and unlocked everyone as Indra continued to press Murphy.
“We don’t have time for this.” She said before pressing the knife to Murphy’s throat, getting him to lift his chin in fear. “Talk.”
Murphy took a minute as he looked at her, realizing she wouldn’t relent. “Jaha’s backpack.” He blurted out. “It runs the AI. If we can destroy it, I’m pretty sure we can destroy her.” Indra removed the knife pressed into Murphy’s neck.
“I know where it is. I saw them move it into the temple before I was captured.” She told the room as Pike helped unlocked people, stopping to look up at Murphy and the woman.
“They’ll expect us to run. We can use that. The AI will follow those who do, and we can get the backpack.” His plan made Indra question him, begging for an explanation of the word we. “I can’t do this alone. Do you want to save your people or not?” Indra contemplated her opinions, telling her people to leave. They all rushed out, the only people left in the cell being Indra, Pike, and Murphy. Pike raised his brow at Murphy. “Why are you still here?”
Murphy smirked, a chuckle in his words. “Well the bad guys are going after them. Might as well take my chances with you two.”
“Your father would be proud.” Pike meant the words as a compliment but Murphy’s face fell none the less at the mention of his dead father.
“So how do we do it?” Indra asked them.
Murphy sighed, turning his neck to look at her. “Carefully.”
Jaha and ALIE walk the streets in the City of Light, people all around them living mundane lives. The mind of the Grounder Indra killed in the cell approached them, a frown on his face. “I’m sorry.” He told them as he came to a stop in front of them, Jaha’s brows pulling together slightly. “We didn’t anticipate what they had planned.”
ALIE gave him a smile and clasped her hands together in front of her. “It’s alright, you served well. You’re home now.”
Her smile remained on her face as Jaha spoke to the man. “We’re already rounding them up. The first of the prisoners are already on the cross.” Jaha’s eyes moved over the deceased grounders shoulder to where the woman from the cell stood, her face content as they passed the man, moving on towards her. “That didn’t take long.”
The chipped woman just let a smile take over her face as she looked at ALIE and Jaha. “I understand now.” Jaha watched her leave as ALIE had access to her mind, now well aware of the plan in play.
“They’re going for the backpack.”
Jaha turned to her, seeing the worry in her AI eyes. “Then we delay the migration.”
ALIE just shook her head, telling him it’s unnecessary as it was almost complete. “We’ll use Emori again.” No sooner had she said the words to Jaha did Emori enter the City of Light, coming to stand in front of them with inhaling sharply.
“Emori,” Jaha said as the girl looked to them, “You know you can correct your defects here.” He gestured down to Emori’s hand; her birth defect shown proudly as she held up the limb with a smirk.
“I would, if I had any.” She told him as he chuckled, honoring her self-esteem. Emori turned to ALIE, ready to get down to business. “How can I help?”
“Your friend John Murphy is headed to the temple to do harm. Stop him.” Emori nodded at her before leaving to stop her unchipped boyfriend.
Luna’s Rig was something else. You had never seen a place so far out of loop with what was happening before. Luna had brought you into one of the buildings they had and left you there, leaving to go god knows where. The room was dark, fish netting hanging across every wall and it was full of people having normal conversations, like they didn’t know there was a war going on.
The 5 of you sat around a fire listening to a woman across the room tell a story about a shark attack. It was more like Jasper was listening, the story to you becoming more background noise as a focused on the fire in front of you, unaware of the scowl on your face before Bellamy nudged you. You turned your head catching sight of the frown on his face as well. “We’ll figure it out.” He promised you.
Your face hadn’t change as you nodded, looking back to the fire. You weren’t worried that Luna wouldn’t help you, in fact you knew she most likely wouldn’t, but you knew if they kept peace this long, they weren’t about to ruin that. That’s what you were most worried about really, no matter where you and your friends go, misery always seems to follow.
The doors to the room clanked open, Luna walking in with her men as Bellamy past you, standing up and putting a hand on your shoulder. “She’s back. Maybe she changed her mind.” Clarke stood up as well, Bellamy looking down at you. You exhaled and nodded towards the door.
“You two go ahead, get her to listen.” You offered him a supportive smile, but it fell as soon as he walked away. You stared at his back until a scoffed from Octavia pulled you to her. “What’s wrong?” You knotted your brows together, moving closer to her before she stiffened next to you. You paused, moving slightly away to give her space. Her face was pursed as she ignored you, her jaw clenching. “O, what’s wrong?”
“How could you forgive him so easily?” She spat out, her brown eyes not glaring at you as her words shocked you. You blinked a few times, willing yourself to speak to your best friend regarding her hatred for her brother, but you could barely form any thoughts.
“O, I- He- I didn’t-“
“Lincoln was your family. You thought of him like a brother Y/N, don’t tell me you didn’t.” You shook your head, knowing for a fact Lincoln was your brother. There was no doubt in your mind from the moment he saved you. “Lincoln would still be alive if it wasn’t for him.”
“Your brother didn’t kill Lincoln, Octavia. Okay? It was Pike’s execution. It was Pike who pulled the trigger. It was Bellamy who tried to save him.” Octavia let out another scoff, looking away from you and towards Jasper, or the fire, just anywhere that wasn’t you. You couldn’t take her attitude right now, not when you needed to be convincing Luna to join you. “If you need to blame someone for Lincoln’s death, then blame me. I was the one who should’ve killed Pike that day instead trying to just get him out of Arkadia. Stop blaming Bellamy for Lincoln’s death and just blame me.”
Because I already blame myself.
You knew if you spent any longer with her, you’d only madder. So instead of sitting here and arguing with her, you stood up and left without saying another word, knowing you just needed to take a breather.
Bellamy didn’t see you leave as he and Clarke approached Luna. “The boats return at nightfall, then you leave forever.” She told them. So much for good news. Clarke tried to get Luna to listen, but she refused beginning to walk away before Bellamy pushed himself in front of her, stopping her step as her man grabbed him, preventing him from contact with her.
“You need to hear this. There’s something out there that will destroy us all.”
Luna remained stoic, his words unaffecting her. “Whatever it is, it can’t touch us here.” No other word was said as she pushed past Bellamy and Clarke, coming to sit where you had been next to Octavia. It was only then did Bellamy realize you weren’t there. He started looking around for you but he couldn’t find you.
“What’s wrong?” Clarke asked him, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He didn’t realize it was there but stopped at Clarke’s words.
“Y/N’s gone.” He muttered.
Clarke looked to where you last were, seeing Jasper get up and listening to woman telling a story and leaving Luna and Octavia to talk, but Bellamy was right. “I’m sure she’s around here somewhere. It’s not like there’s anywhere to go.” He nodded but none the less was unnerved when you weren’t around.
Luna gave Octavia Lincoln’s journal that her men had taken off her. Octavia’s mood shifting when she looked down at the worn-out leather, her fingers drifting across the cover as she gripped it tight. “And my sword?” Octavia asked her.
Luna nodded. “It will be on the boat along with the rest of your weapons.”
“So much for Luna, savior of those in need.” Octavia scoffed.
“You don’t want saving. You want someone to fight with you.”
“Damn right!” Octavia stopped her, slamming the book in her lap. “We’re at war. You can’t just ignore that. Lincoln would’ve wanted you to help.”
“By becoming Commander? Lincoln knew the rules. We take in people who are done fighting, who are done with the killing. But look at you. Fighting is all you know. Death is all any of you know.” Octavia couldn’t look at Luna as the woman leant closer to her. “Lincoln would’ve never brought that here.”
There was an applause that made its way around the room, Luna looking up to see people smiling and clapping at the woman she knew as Shay bowed at the end of her story. She turned back to Octavia who thanked her before standing up and leaving Octavia holding the book tight and glaring at the fire.
Monty and Raven have been working nonstop since you left, trying to find a way to take down ALIE. Raven was currently going through ALIE’s code, her jaw dropped, letting out an impressed gasp. “I can't believe how many people ALIE has now. You see this cluster?” She pointed onto the screen as Monty looked up. “That's a building. But all this. These are minds. It's full of them, thousands. She's taken Polis, too. ALIE's army is growing, the longer we wait to go in the stronger she gets.”
Monty furrowed his brows and stopped Raven before she could get farther. “Go in?” He clarified. “Raven, our mission-“
“Is to wait for Clarke? We can do this ourselves. We have Becca’s backdoor password. We have me.”
“You said the moment we use the password ALIE would know.” Raven nodded, not sparing Monty a glance.
“She would.” She paused. “I think.”
Monty threw his hands in the air in an attempt to get Raven to understand. “That means we have one shot at this. Is there a kill code in that book you didn't tell me about?” Raven sighed and shook her head no. “Then we stick to the plan. Clarke gives the flame to Luna. The A.I. in the Flame gives Luna the kill code. We enter it here, taking our one shot, and Bob's your uncle.” He clapped his hands together. Raven scrunched her face as he looked at him.
“I hate that expression.”
Monty snickered at her. “Good.” He joked. “Let’s keep mapping. What do you see?”
They started back on the lines of code in front of them before Harper walked up. Her cheeks slightly red as she bounced on her feet, having trouble staying still. “Perimeter’s clear. Bryan and Miller have watch.” Monty spared her a smile to which she reciprocated, her cheeks lighting red more. “How is it going in here?” When both of the people in front of her remained silent and let their demeanor shift, Harper exhaled. “Well, take a break? I could use some help securing the south airlock.”
Monty wanted to accept the offer and help Harper but he looked to Raven, unsure if he could leave her alone. Raven groaned at him, ushering him away. “Go! Take the book if you don’t trust me.”
Monty reached for the book before pausing. “You memorized ALIE’s password.”
“Guess you’ll have to trust me.”
Raven sent him a teasing and Monty glared at her before Harper put her hand on Monty’s shoulder. She led him away, slowly making their way to the south airlock. “Im just worried about her.” He began, glancing over to Harper every few seconds and seeing her eyes looking at him, squinted in a smile. “She hasn’t stopped in 2 days.”
“Neither have you.”
“Yeah, but I’m just trying to keep up.” Harper let out a flurry of giggles as Monty’s smile made its way on his face. “I’m serious! I look at ALIE’s code and all I see are subroutines and collision meshes. But to Raven? She sees the city of light, it’s not just a code to her, it’s real.” As Harper listener to Monty’s concerns for their friend, she slowed down, coming to a stop as Monty did the same. “Aren’t we going to the airlock?” He confusingly asked her, pointing with the gun in the direction of the airlock.
Harper just smirked at him. “Already sealed.” Her sudden change in attitude had Monty worried, narrowing his eyes at her. “I was just thinking, it’s been 2 days with no one trying to kill us.”
“It won’t last.”
Harper nodded at Monty interjection. “I know. But are we just supposed to spend the time between attacks dreading the next one?”
“It’s not like we have a choice.”
“Maybe we do.” Harper had come closer and closer, only a foot away as she reached up her fingers, running them delicately across Monty’s face before slowly pressing her lips to his.
Monty was frozen at the feeling of Harper’s soft lips against his, his eyes closing until she pulled away. He had to take a breath, looking into the face of a smiling girl. “You’re still you, right? No AI in your brain telling you what to do?”
Harper laughed the boy’s question, shaking her head and putting her hands on his shoulder. The position brought her face up to his as she but her lip. “I’m still me.”
Monty let out a passionate sigh, glad that Harper hadn’t taken the chip and that this was all her. “Thank god.” He captured her lips with his this time as Harper giggled, pulling him away to the closest room.
Shay walked about the Rig, a pitcher in her hand as she filled up cups around the room. Her eyes landed on Jasper with a small smile, coming to his side and taking his cup. Jasper returned the smile, taking the cup from her. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She started walking away before Jasper called out to her.
“Hey, did that shark attack really happen?” He asked her. She let out a quiet chuckle, coming to sit down next to him.
“Some of it. Gets better every time I tell it.” She joked both of them laughing. Jasper didn’t know how much the feeling of laughing with someone, not just in a spiteful way, but in a carefree way. “Are you really from the sky?” Jasper hesitated but nodded and took a sip of his drink. Shay just sighed. “I’ve never been off this rig.” She admitted and shook her head sheepishly.
“It’s not as great as it seems.” He told her truthfully, but she just smiled at him, getting him to laugh and smile. “I’m Jasper.” He stuck his hand out to her which she happily took.
“Shay. Nice to meet you.”
Bellamy hadn’t seen you since he and Clarke spoke to Luna and he was beginning to get worried. His leg bounced as he sat next to his sister and Clarke, constantly looking around the room in hopes you’d show up. He caught sight of Jasper and Shay as he raised a brow. “Jasper’s actually smiling.” He commented, turning to Clarke. She didn’t spare a glance, instead turning to look at Luna and her man resting against each other. He sighed. “Clarke. Let it go.”
“We can’t just leave.” She argued as Octavia turned to focus on her.
“We don’t have much of a choice.”
“Maybe we do.” Octavia narrowed her eyes at Clarke’s counter.
Bellamy was confused as well, his voice lowering as he spoke. “What are you talking about?” She pulled out the flame’s container, holding it out for the siblings to see.
“I’m talking about putting this into her head without asking.” Immediately Octavia was opposed, telling Clarke that Luna wasn’t like Emerson. Forcing Luna to take the chip wasn’t going to work. Bellamy agreed, telling her that they could still go back to Arkadia and fight ALIE but Clarke scoffed. “Fight who? Our own people? I don’t like the idea anymore than you do, but if the code to stop ALIE is on this thing, then give me a better idea.”
Bellamy knew Clarke was right, they needed Luna to take the chip and that was the only way. Running a hand over his face he stood up, looking down at the two girls. “Fine. O, you stay here, Clarke goes. It’s the only way they’ll let her alone with Luna.” Before they could say anything, he stepped over his seat, heading to the door outside before Clarke stopped him.
“Where are you going?” She called out to him. He groaned, stopping with his back to them. His shoulder sagged as he turned around, throwing his hands out to the side.
“To find Y/N. Wherever the hell she is.” He left before Clarke could stop him again.
After you had left Octavia, you went outside needing air. The cold air from the sea hit your face the instant you stepped foot outside, washing over your stress. You could hear shouts of children running about, one of them running right into you as you stood there, catching her against your legs. Her giggles stopped as she looked up and saw you, a person she didn’t recognize. Quickly she took a step back, her eyes widening before a much older girl came around the corner.
“There you are!” She chuckled at the girl before looking to you. She didn’t cower like the younger one. “Sorry Sky Girl.” She spoke in her language. You offered her a smile, telling her it was alright and surprising her by your use of Trigedasleng. She ushered the younger girl away, leaving you alone. You didn’t know where you were going, the rig obviously wasn’t a place you ever found yourself on before, but everything intrigued you from the numerous shipping containers to the netting covering 75% of the rig. Everyone looked happy, something barely experienced back on land. Something you’ve always longed for.
You hadn’t realized how shaky your breath was as you turned to the edge of the platform, metal bars keeping you from falling over. The chipped rusted metal cooled your hand as you grabbed onto it, pulling yourself against it. At this angle you couldn’t see any of rig, the only thing in your sights being the water. Waves crashing against themselves as you let your eyes closed, the smell of the sea filling your senses.
You’d never experienced something like this, so immersed in the sea. You’ve had your far share of rivers and lakes, but this was new. You could feel the water and cool ocean air calm you, almost like a reset button. Almost like you could stay here. You knew Luna’s rules, bringing in people who were tired of the fighting and the killing. And that was you, wasn’t it?
You bit the inside of your cheek, looking out into the vast dark blue sea and trying to find something wrong with that plan. You wouldn’t have to worry about dying, or fighting to survive, killing people. You wouldn’t have to worry about ALIE out here. You’d be safe. As much as the positive sides sound so appealing, you knew there were negatives.
Bellamy, for one. Would he stay with you? Or would he leave to save his people. Your people. The same people you’d be leaving to fight against ALIE for the rest of their lives. And Kane. You didn’t know if Polis was safe and that’s where Kane was heading with Pike. You couldn’t leave him, especially if he wasn’t safe.
You heard the sounds of footsteps behind you, but you paid them no mind, to focused on your thoughts and assuming they would just go away. Only when they didn’t, moving to stand next to you did you finally glance at the owner, catching sight of his curly dark hair. You smiled as he peaked at you out of the corner of his eye, his own lips upturning.
“What are you doing out here?” He asked you as you shrugged, letting out a loud sigh.
“I don’t know.” You answered honestly. You calmed down a while ago, now you were just… here. “It’s nice here. Like I can hear my thoughts.” Bellamy nodded, knowing what you meant. Inside it was stressful with Clarke glaring at Luna and Octavia hating him, but here he finally allowed himself to breathe. Maybe that was just with you though, he didn’t know.
Despite the cool air surrounding you, you could feel the warmth coming from Bellamy’s side. A warmth that was so inviting, making you want to steal it. Instead you cleared your throat, turning your back to the water as you crossed your arms. “What did Luna say?”
Bellamy felt his face fall. “She’s not going to do it. We’re leaving when the boat returns.” You laughed, throwing your head back.
“Great.” You muttered. Bellamy chuckled at you, making your head fall to the side to look at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” His smile was back as he refused to look at you, looking out at the water. You nudged him with your shoulder, getting him to smile bigger but still not look at you.
“Bell. Tell me.”
He licked his lips, shaking his head. How was he supposed to tell you he liked hearing your laugh, as forced and fake as that one was. You nudged him once more, but when you knew he wasn’t going to tell you, you narrowed your eyes at him, your lips still tugged up into a smile. You moved back to look out at the water, unknowingly getting closer to Bellamy. Bellamy didn’t say anything when your arm brushed against his, neither of you pulling away because frankly it felt comfortable being that close.
“I suppose Clarke has a plan.”
“She’s going to put the flame in Luna.”
“But Luna won’t let her.” Bellamy didn’t say anything as you furrowed your brows, trying to figure out what he was getting at. Clarke was determined to get Luna to take the Flame, but Luna didn’t want to. “She’s gonna force Luna to take it.”
“It’s the only choice we have.” He tried to explain but you didn’t say anything. Clarke was going to force Luna into something she didn’t want. Luna, who took in people for safety. Bellamy watched you for any reaction but only seeing you remain unfazed. “Y/N.”
You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t really want to say anything. “I’m sorry. Can I just-“ you stopped yourself, not knowing what you wanted as you watch waves crash against the rig. “Can I be alone for a little while?” Your voice was quiet, but it hurt Bellamy none the less. He knew you understood the dilemma and based on your reaction he knew you were trying not to let the situation get to you. He turned to walk away, making you lose his body heat before he stopped and looked back at you.
“Boats come back at nightfall. If Clarke’s plan doesn’t work, Luna wants gone by then.” You nodded your head slightly and listened to his footsteps retreat. You were left alone with your thoughts once again and luckily for you, this place was perfect for thinking.
A panting came from the room Monty and Harper were in. Inside both delinquents were cuddled on a bed naked, sweat covering them like a sheet as their smiles lit up their faces. “I should get back.” Monty mumbled as Harper groaned, burying herself into his side.
“No, stay. Reality can wait.” Monty looked down at her, her hooded eyes staring up at him as her eyelashes fluttered. He nodded his head yes without much thought as he felt Harper relax in his arms. “I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Happy and safe.” She smiled and rested her palm against Monty’s chest. “It’s nice.”
Monty was about to agree before Raven opened the door, looking for the boy. “Finally. Come on. I have to show something.” The closed with a slam as Monty and Harper exchanges wide eyed looks, jumping out of bed to redress themselves. Monty rushed back into the control room only to see Raven sat in her stool again, blue code filling the screens. Her eyes moved to Monty when he entered, sending him a smirk as Monty’s cheeks flared up, hoping the girl hadn’t seen it. “Come look at this. It’s layers of security. It’s more than anything in the ALIE code.”
“A firewall?”
She shook her head. “More Like a fortress. It’s called the citadel. It over looks the entire city. There’s a most separating it from the rest of the city.” Monty stopped her, asking her to slow down and explain it. She paused before focusing on him. “Im saying she’s hiding something.” Immediately Monty knew what she was thinking, denying her request before she even got to say it. “Monty, with Becca’s password, I can edit the code. I’m sure if it.”
Monty still refused the fact it was the best plan they had. He thought it best to wait for Clarke and you all to get back. But Raven still wasn’t satisfied with the idea of waiting when she could be in and out and ALIE might not even notice. But it was always the might part that seemed to catch you all. “I’m gonna keep mapping, looking for any other vulnerabilities.”
Monty gave her a thankful smile, sitting in the seat of his own. “Then we'll do it together. I promise I won't slow you down. I'll just keep you company.”
The two of them got back to work, leaving the Citadel for when they had more answers. Or a supercomputer.
In addition to providing people with protection, Luna taught the younger Flokru members how to survive by fishing and how to take care of themselves in the process. “Careful not to catch yourselves. We don’t fish for children.” The kids laughed at Luna’s joke, smiles spreading on all their faces as Luna continued to work the net in front of her. Derrick, Luna’s boyfriend, walked up to the group, ushering Clarke to stop before whispering in Luna’s ear.
“The Sky Girl would like a word.” He said. Luna sighed, looking past Derrick. The children were curious, following Luna’s eyes before seeing Clarke.
“She’s persistent. I’ll give her that.” Derrick meekly smiled at her before she addressed the children, telling them they were done for the day and sent them off to help Derrick with Lamprey traps. The kids all followed the smiling man but one of them, the oldest and who happened to meet you earlier, gave Luna a hug before she left. Luna welcomed the action immediately, hugging the girl back just as tight before sending her on her way. As soon as Luna was alone, Clarke stepped forward.
“Were they born here?” She asked, trying to make small talk.
Luna didn’t turn around as she answered but continued to cut the net. “A few. Most were orphaned from war or ran from one they didn’t believe in.”
“Like you from the conclave.” Clarke pointed out, getting Luna to pause in her work.
“What did Titus tell you about me?” She questioned the blonde. Clarke told her the truth. How Titus claimed her to be a coward and how she was a traitor to the blood. “That sounds like Titus. Lexa’s death must have been hard for him. Lexa was always his favorite.” She turned around, seeing Clarke distraught face. “You cared for her.”
It wasn’t a question, but Clarke answered anyways. “Yes. Lexa was special. She was working for peace. Blood must not have blood.” Luna cocked her head as Clarke held up the flame between them. “You can finish what she started.”
“I have peace right here.”
“Luna. The flame is your birthright. You’re the only one who can save us.”
Luna looked between the blue flame in Clarkes hand and the girl herself. “How many people have to die to pay for those who I save?”
“Some causes are worth killing for.”
“Not to me.”
Clarke had hoped Luna would’ve accepted, but since she didn’t Clarke didn’t have much of a choice. “Ascende Superius.” The flame was activated, the tendrils coming out as Luna stared amazed at the piece of tech. Clarke used the opportunity to try and insert the flame, bringing it to the back of Luna’s neck.
Luna stopped her, grabbing the girl’s arms and throwing her to the ground. The hand holding the flame was in the air as Luna stood over her. “I didn’t flee the conclave because I thought I’d lose. I fled because I knew I’d win.” She yanked Clarke up, causing Clarke to groan as she stumbled to her feet. “You should be grateful Clarke.” She told her when Clarke steadied herself, looking into Luna’s eyes. “After I was forced to kill my brother in the first round, I was matched with Lexa in the second.” Clarke held back as gasp as Luna smirked. “Isn’t fate funny?” She pulled the flame out of Clarke’s hand, holding it up as she walked away. “You’ll get this back when you leave.” Clarke knew she messed up.
In the temple at Polis, ALIE Emori and a few other guards stood await, their guns trained at the door for any entrance being made. ALIE reminded them not to kill, having a need for them and with that need comes their lives. Emori who weapon less stood in the back with ALIE, waiting in the silence before looking to the red dressed AI. “Why did your creator leave you?” Emori asked.
“I don’t know.” ALIE said as she looked at Becca’s story on the wall. But when I see her again, I’ll ask her.”
Murphy snuck Pike and Indra into the temple, a secret passage going unprotected being their entrance. Murphy immediately saw Emori standing there, staring off in space. The sound of gunfire raining down made him jump as Pike shot the guards dead, turning to Emori before Murphy stopped him. “No no no. Not her. Not her.” He begged before Pike put the gun down, cheering for anymore guards. “They know we’re here. Bar the door.” He ordered the older man, coming into the room to Emori. He stood in place, staring at his girlfriend before turning to the backpack. “Jaha’s powering the pod.” He told them when he saw the backpack hooked up to the escaped pod.
Pike was grabbing the guns off the men. “What about the secret passage? ALIE knows about that now. I’ll look it up.”
Murphy looked into Emori’s eyes, not seeing the girl he loved in them as he scoffed. “Don’t. She didn’t see us come in.” Emori glared at him and narrowed her eyes. “Besides we’ll need that to escape.” He walked back over to the escape pod, grabbing the pole that was meant to keep the door open and ripping it out. The door closed as Murphy smirked, adjusting the grip in his hand. He held the pole in the air, ready to stab the back pack.
“That’s a nuclear fuel cell John!” Emori called out, getting Murphy’s attention. “Do it and you’ll irradiate the entire city.”
Murphy slowly put the pole down knowing that killing the entire city is the exact opposite of what they are trying to accomplish.
“So how do we destroy it?” Indra asked from the doorway.
Pike looked between Murphy and the backpack with a slight nod of his head. “Carefully.”
When nightfall came, Bellamy, Clarke, and Octavia were led back to the shipping container you all arrived in. Tensions were high as Luna walked ahead, Clarke staring at her from the back of the group. “Where’s Jasper?” Bellamy asked as he glanced back, not seeing the boy.
“Saying goodbye to his new friend.” Octavia told him. “Y/N?”
“She’s coming.” He wasn’t sure if he was telling her or himself. You had to be coming, you weren’t going to leave him, right?
They approached the container as the door opened 3 Flokru men stepping out. Luna apologized to them, asking for a return trip for your group. She tossed the gear you all brought inside, telling the three who were there that they’d get their weapons when they arrived. They were ushered inside. Bellamy didn’t want to go inside without knowing where you were, but he didn’t have a choice as the man next to him pushed him inside. Clarke held out her hand to Luna.
“The flame?” Luna pulled the flame out of her pocket, almost putting it in Clarke’s hand before pulling it away. Had she known ALIE had found her way onto the rig, she might’ve been more inclined to give the Flame to Clarke and get it out of there.
“There it is.” ALIE pointed the flame out to the boating captain as Luna and Clarke got in their final words. The flame was ripped from Luna’s hands as she was struck over the head and Clarke was shoved into the container, falling on the ground just in time to see Derrick and Luna over powered by there own men before they closed the doors.
Bellamy helped her off the ground as Octavia ran to the door, pounding upon it. “They took the flame. They’re locking us in.” She pounded on the door more as Clarke yelled.
“Hey! What is this?!” Clarke pounded as well before Bellamy stopped her.
“Luna’s own people were attacking her.” He started to piece it together in his mind. “ALIE’s here.”
And you had no idea.
Shay and Jasper walked through the buildings side by side, sorrowful smiles on their faces as their paces slowed. “You could come back, you know.” Shay offered.
Jasper chuckled deeply. “It’s not that simple. It’s nice here. I’d just mess it up.” HE looked around one last time before his eyes landed on Shay. A door slammed off in the distance as Jasper and Shay stopped, looking up to see Derrick being restrained by his own people and Luna thrown over one of their shoulders.
“Shay! Run before-“ The man behind Derrick knocked him down, sending him to the floor as Jasper’s eyes widened.
“She’s here.” He mumbled as ALIE warned her newest puppets of Jasper realization. “Go.” He said grabbing onto Shay’s shoulders. “Tell your people not to take the chip!” Shay hesitated, looking back at Derrick before Jasper yelled at her to run again.
This time she listened, almost running out the door before an arrow was shot in her back. She let out a scream as she fell to the ground. Jasper watched with his heart broken as her head fell to the side. He tried to the attack the man who shot Shay, punching him in the face but the man was unmoved, bringing his fist up to punch Jasper. The boy was sent to the floor after one punch as the captain lifted Jasper off the ground, adding him to their list of captives.
When the darkness had taken over the sky, you knew you should’ve been leaving. Bellamy and the others were probably waiting for you at the boat. The moon had risen across the horizon, its light shining against the water as you sighed and pushed against the bar to walk away. The rig felt different at night, while in the daytime kids ran about having the time of their lives, the nighttime was almost silent, the low sound of machine hums filling the air as you tried to find your way back. You regretted staying for so long as you didn’t know your way back. But Bellamy would wait for you, you knew he would.
You walked about without a clue, heading in a building that looked somewhat familiar but once you were inside, it hadn’t. You were about to turn around and head back before a low almost painlike groan caught your attention. You quickly perked up, ducking behind a few barrels as you listened for the sound again. When it came, you hurried over to the source, gasping at the sight of the storytelling woman on the ground with an arrow in her back.
Your knees hit the ground next to her as you checked her pulse. “What happened?” You asked her hurriedly when you felt a pulse, the arrow causing blood to leave her body.
“Jasper.” She gasped as your heart sank. Jasper did this? No way. “T-they took him. Luna and Derrick too” She was struggling to find her breath and you felt bad for pressing, but you needed to know what was happening.
“Who did this to you? Who shot you? Did Jasper shoot you?” You didn’t know how to help her. If you take the arrow out, she could die. If you left in… she could still die. You pulled your jacket off and pressed it against the wound and around her body. You winced as she cried out in pain. “I’m sorry.”
“My people. My people did this.” You weren’t sure if you heard her correctly the first time, but when she repeated herself you had a suspicion of what happened. If that suspicion is right, then ALIE’s here. “G-Go.” She muttered, pushing you away. “Machine Room. Level P.” Her hand pushed your knee once more, her touch weak as you took off, leaving the dying girl there. You felt awful for leaving her there, but she was dying. There was nothing much you could do for her.
You thanked anyone who was listening that you passed the machine room earlier and new where it was. You also thanked the fact you saw there was a back door.
You opened the door quickly, trying not to make a sound as you slipped inside. Screams came from inside, a man you assumed to be Derrick yelling for someone to stop and what sounded like Luna grunting and coughing. You kept moving, staying as low as you could to avoid being seen. When you finally got in a position that was good, your mind froze.
There, in front of you, Luna was being waterboarded and Derrick was still screaming for her life to be spared. Three muscular men surrounded them; Jasper tied off to the side with his hands in the air. Another bucket of water was poured over the towel on Luna’s face as she sputtered it out and you pressed your back against the boxes next to you, remaining unseen.
“Shit.”
Bellamy had it with the storage container, throwing himself against the walls in hope something would happen. Octavia was doing it as well, trying to kick the wall before throwing her hands in the air. “How did ALIE even find this place?!” She yelled out, her voice echoing in the small space.
Bellamy sighed. “There was a drone at Niylah’s.” He remembered shooting it down when Monty and him pulled the battery from the rover. “She must have followed us for the flame.” He slammed his fist on the wall, letting out a groan as pain shot through his hand.
“It’s not going to work.” Clarke told him, resting her head against the wall. Bellamy ignored her, hitting the wall again as she looked at him. “Bellamy.”
“Just stop Clarke!” He yelled out, tired of her trying to get him to calm down.
“The doors are locked. We’re not getting out unless they let us out.”
“Y/N’s out there, I’m not letting ALIE get to her.” HE pounded on the wall again as Clarke’s face softened.
“She’s strong Bellamy. She can protect herself.” He felt himself pause. That was what he was afraid of. He knew you could protect yourself, but he also knew you’d try to protect everyone else. He didn’t know if you had that in you. “We have to think.”
Bellamy stopped hitting the wall, looking down at the girl. “She’s gonna put the AI in Luna.”
“She would have to be chipped first. IF Luna is chipped before she gets the AI, ALIE would know everything. We’ll never be able to stop her.” Despite her convincing Bellamy to stop his pounding, she stood up herself, going to the door and doing her own banging.
You didn’t know how much longer you could take listening to Luna being tortured but you couldn’t just go in there and expect things to go your way. There were three men, Jasper and Derrick was tied up, and Luna was being tortured. Even if you did manage to get Luna free, the other two men would try to stop you. It wasn’t that you hadn’t taken on 3 men at once before, but you didn’t have any weapons this time and they couldn’t feel pain. Things weren’t looking your way.
It got even worse when, to save his love, Derrick took the chip himself. 4 guys, Jasper tied up, Luna being tortured. You could do this.
The door to the temple was being pounded on, ALIE’s people trying to get the backpack as the four inside, minus Emori, all try to destroy the backpack. “Hurry, this door won’t last much longer.” Indra told Murphy and Pike, who scoffed.
“Then you’re going to have to pick up a gun.” He told her as she hesitated, turning to the door.
Throughout the struggle, John listener to his girlfriends words, gulping from his nerves. “You’re all going to die John.”
In the Citadel, Jaha and ALIE stood looking out at all the minds she’s taken. “Hurry Thelonious. The migration is not yet complete.”
“We’re still searching the tunnel entrances. I’ll be there when the door is opened.”
“John Murphy was with Clarke Griffin when they removed the second A.I. from the last Commander. If she won't help us insert it into Luna, then we'll need him alive.”
Luckily for Raven, both Jaha and ALIE remained unaware of her hacking into ALIE’s code while Monty slept next to her.
“What will you do with Clarke?” Jaha asked curiously.
“I will give her the same choice as the rest. Join us or...” she paused. Jaha turned to her, raising a brow and waiting for an explanation. Raven’s luck ran out. “Someone is accessing my codes with an administrative login. The intrusion is coming from Arkadia.” She informed him. Jaha shook his head, telling her if it’s coming from Arkadia then it could either be Sinclair or Monty but ALIE denied this, informing him of Sinclair’s death, leaving only Monty. “The login is coded by my creator, I can’t log them out.”
“Disconnect from Arkadia.” Jaha offered.
“That would be unwise. Without Arkadia's mainframe, the mobile unit would be my sole power source. If they destroy it... I will be terminated.” Raven pressed the enter key on her keyboard, ALIE gasping. “They're inside the Citadel.”
Jaha stepped forward. “If It’s Monty, I can stop him.”
ALIE cocked her head at him, her brows drawn together. “How?”
Monty woke up from his nap, rubbing his face before seeing the codes on the screen. His eyes widened as he pushed Raven after from the keyboard. “Are you crazy?!”
“No stop! I’m in her Citadel.” Monty let go of her, watching her begin her hacking once again. “So many doors are locked. But I can delete locks.” She started talking, more to herself but Monty was listening. “I was right. She’s hiding something. I just have to get past...” she stopped herself, watching the coding on the screen change. “Someone’s in the way.”
“Someone?” Monty wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.
“Monty?” Monty and Raven both froze, the sound of Monty’s mothers voice making her way through the screen. “Monty can you hear me?”
“Mom?” He whispered in disbelief, not looking away from the screen.
“Monty. I wish I could see you. Maybe I will someday.”
He shook his head, feeling a familiar prickling of tears in his eyes. “She sounds so real.”
“ALIE processed it. But it’s her mind, it’s her.”
“Can she hear me?”
Raven shook her head, pushing the keyboard over to him. “You have to type.” Hannah spoke again calling out to her son. “ALIE wants us to stop. That’s why she’s here, ALIE doesn’t want us to see what’s behind the door.”
Monty typed to his mother, having a conversation while Hannah distracted them, giving her more time. Monty’s fingers stopped above the keys, keeping him from his next key strokes. “What happens if we delete her code?” He asks Raven. The girl didn’t answer, only looking at the side of Monty’s face. “What happens?”
“She’ll be gone. Forever.” He listened to Hannah tell him she loved him, one last time before asking Raven to do it. She took the keyboard back, typing the code out before stopping. “You hit enter.”
“Monty?”
Monty stared at the screen with his mother’s voice, no longer holding back his tears. “I love you.” He told her, wishing he could say it to her face. With one push of a button, Monty deleted Hannah from the City of Light, killing her for the second time.
Jaha told ALIE to get out of the ark but ALIE couldn’t or else the only power source she has would be the backpack Murphy was trying to destroy.
Monty stepped away from the desk telling Raven to shut ALIE down. Raven was trying, getting through the last door, seeing the kill switch, she was so close.
Then the screen turned black.
“No no no no no!” She cried out, trying to get the codes back.
“What happened?!” Monty yelled out from behind Raven.
Raven was defeated. “She pulled herself from the mainframe before I could hit the kill switch.”
“So this was all for nothing?” He killed his mother again, for nothing? Raven shook her head, standing up with tears and reminding him they know there’s a kill switch now. “A kill switch we can’t even use because the code is gone! This is your fault. We were supposed to wait for the others.” You want to take the chip again? Is that it? You want to go back in there?” He went to the desk, grabbing the chip sitting on top and held it out for her. “Here. Take it.”
Raven just let out a sob, licking her lip to keep from crying more. “I’m sorry.” She whispered. Monty didn’t want to hear it, turning and walking out of the room as she whispered again. “I’m sorry.”
There was only a minute left before ALIE was finished and the door to the temple was almost open, grounders banging like their lives depended on it. Murphy just wanted to destroy the thing as Pike was trying to figure out how not to kill everyone. He asked Indra to pick up a gun and she did, despite her reluctance. Emori, at ALIE’s demand, try to get John not to destroy it. She told him to forget ALIE, that her mind and everyone’s in the City of Light was on that server. If he destroyed it, he’d be killing her.
In the last ten seconds, ALIE’s plan worked because Murphy couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill Emori. “I can’t.” He told Pike who nodded. Murphy’s eyes were watery as Pike picked up a weapon on the ground, thrusting it into the backpack and destroying it. Murphy couldn’t watch, ducking his head into his arm as he turned away.
“Did it work?”
Murphy jumped in front of Emori, holding her face in his hands and looking into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
She just smiled at him. “You’re too late.”
Murphy’s face fell, the sound of the door cracking filling the room as Pike grabbed his shoulder.
“Let’s go.” He told him as Murphy stood up, grabbing a sack off the floor.
“Can’t let her see the tunnel.” He threw the sack over her head, knowing there was nothing he could do for her right now as they left in the tunnels.
When ALIE’s men and Jaha finally broke into the room, they were greeted with the sight of a tied up Emori and broken backpack. No other people to be seen. “They used a tunnel. Find it.” The men ran off looking for them. The backpack was broken as Jaha held up parts from it. “They could’ve destroyed everything today and they will try again.”
“It's all right, Thelonious. The migration was a success. The transmission from the escape pod is complete. They can't get to us here.” ALIE did however have access to many more places. Including the Go-Sci ring in space.
Bellamy, Clarke, and Bellamy gave up. They couldn’t get out until someone let them. “This place was safe before we got here.” Octavia pointed out.
There was no denying she was right. When Bellamy was with you today, it seemed so peaceful, the war hadn’t touched here, and you all spend 1 day and ALIE had taken over. He wished he’d stayed with you then, at least then he’d know if you were alive. The outside of the door clanked opened as he was pulled from his thoughts, looking at each other before jumping to their feet. They didn’t know who awaited at the other side, but they weren’t expecting a dying Shay.
“Oh my god.” Clarke rushed out, checking her over more than you had. Bellamy and Octavia checked the surroundings, making sure it wasn’t a trap.
“Machine Room. Level P.” Shay repeated for the second time that night. Bellamy finally looked down at the girl, his eyes focusing on the torn and bloodied clothing wrapped around her body. Your jacket. His mind reeled as he realized you were with her, she probably told you where to go. You were with ALIE’s people. Shay didn’t make it, dying as Clarke pressed her fingers against her neck for a pulse and shaking her head.
“Let’s go.” She told them before the three of them took off running to the machine room where you were still hiding.
It was now Derrick dunking Luna in a vat of water, you could hear her screams as you peaked around your hiding spot. It was only then did you realize 1 of the men were gone, leaving 3 chipped men and 2 prisoners. You glanced over to Jasper, seeing him trying to pull his hands down before groaning, glancing straight forward to you. His eyes went wide as you held a finger to your lips, signaling him to keep quiet. None of the men noticed his changed, too focused on drowning Luna. You took a step forward, ready to jump out and attack before the door bursts open, the last man walking inside with the girl you recognized earlier.
Luna was spitting water out of her mouth as her head was twisted to look. “No. No please.” She plead, seeing the young girl struggle in the man’s arms. Your heart started racing, seeing the way the girl’s arms were gripped tight, keeping her from moving. You fell back against the floor again, trying to keep your heart from pounding out of your chest as the memories being brought up, just at the sight of the young girl and the man holding her. Your eyes closed, calm breaths trying to come through but as much as your hands shook, your head was spinning.
“Take the chip or the girl dies.” Derrick spoke and that was all it took for you to react. You jumped over the pallet of boxes, coming in front of the girl and Flokru man. He was taken back by your sudden appearance and you used the distraction to knock his knife out of his hand. It clattered on the floor as you dove for it, picking it up and sending it into his head. The girl scream as the now dead man’s hold dropped, letting her run away and hide. Luna, using your entrance as her own distraction, bit Derrick’s arm, making him stagger backwards and let go of her. The remaining two men split up, one going after you and the other after Luna. He took a swing at you as you were barely to your feet, only making you fall on the ground again. He could overpower you with his knife, but you refused to let him have the upper hand, kicking him in the knee. He groaned as he fell to one knee, giving you the opportunity to kick his ribs. Your foot hit his side as his knife stuck out with his hand. You scurried over to the man you just killed, who wasn’t far from you, pulling his knife out and turning against the man. He tried to swing at you as you blocked him, before you finally lodged the knife in his heart. He fell to the floor as you panted, putting your hands on your knees and looking to Luna.
She had killed one of the men, only leaving her and Derrick. She put a hand out in front of her. “Derrick, this isn’t you. Derrick, please!” She cried out, hoping that her boyfriend would return to normal. You stood up, tightening your hold on the knife in your hand as Derrick and Luna started going at it. Before you knew it, Luna shoved a knife into the heart that was once hers, killing Derrick. You had to look away, hearing Luna’s cries was enough.
This place was supposed to be a sanctuary. Now look at what you had done.
The door to the room swung open, Bellamy Clarke and Octavia coming through as you let the knife in your hand fall to the ground. You could hear whimpers coming behind you as you turned to the girl, her tears staining her cheeks as you kneeled down. “You’re okay. I promise, you’re alright.” Octavia released Jasper and Clarke ran to Luna’s side as Bellamy ran to yours, his eyes finding yours, but you couldn’t look at him. You didn’t want him to see the look in your eye at killing the man. You didn’t want him to know you liked killing him, the man who was about to kill a kid. A kid who couldn’t be much older than you were when you first had a knife to your throat.
“T-thank you.” The girl whispered to you as you helped her up, feeling her tremble in your arms. You nodded, wiping away the tears on her face before she threw her arms around you in a hug. You weren’t expecting the action, especially when you were covered in someone else’s blood. Her arms didn’t loosen as you looked to Bellamy, seeing him glance around the room to the dead bodies before onto you. Neither of you said anything as the girl let go of you.
Jasper asked about Shay and Octavia told him the truth. Luna was still crying in the corner holding Derrick. His death was another to add to your long list. If you hadn’t waited so long, if you would have attacked before he took the damn chip… You couldn’t watch anymore, feeling your eyes close before Bellamy’s hand was on your back. It’s what you needed, that comfort, and before you knew it you were melting into Bellamy’s chest, feeling his arms wrapped around you as you hugged him back. He sighed as he felt you pressed against him, glad you were okay, relieved you were still alive, and heartened in the fact you allowed him to comfort you. He loved this feeling. He loved you.
Flokru had a funeral that night for their deceased people. You knew it was the right thing to do to be there, but things were still off. “Any one of them could be chipped and we wouldn’t know.”
You nodded at Bellamy’s words, your eyes stuck on Luna walking across the room. “They’ll make a move on the Flame before it’s in Luna’s head, if they are.” Clarke reminded you all before Luna and another girl approached you, bringing cups of some drink.
“The ceremony is about to begin.” She said miserably as you all took a cup, secretly wishing it was some time of alcohol. Luna started to walk away before Clarke called out.
“Luna wait!” Luna turned around, glaring at the girl. “I’m sorry, but now you see what we’re facing. An enemy who will stop at nothing to get what she wants.”
Luna pulled out the flame, everyone looking between it and her. “People I loved died today. Needlessly, at my hand.” Her eyes flickered up to you standing in the back, seeing you drop your head and bite your lip. “I can’t let that happen again.” She looked out to her people, raising her hand to get their attention. “As we prepare to give our brothers and sister to the sea, we honor their lives.”
Everyone raised their cups in the air, you all following suit. “Kom woda 'so gyon op, gon woda 'so kom daun.” Luna spoke out. Bellamy looked at you as you translated.
“From water we are born, to water we return.” Jasper and Clarke both listened in on you, hearing Flokru repeat Luna’s words. Everyone took a sip of the drink in their hands and you finished yours off, thankful for the fact there was alcohol in it. You immediately regretted it as once the drink was gone you tried to listen to Clarke and Luna talk, but their words became muffled, the room spinning as you dropped your cup, hearing it clatter on the floor as you started falling over. Bellamy grabbed onto your waist, keeping you upright as everyone looked at you passed out in his arms. Octavia fell next, followed by Jasper then Bellamy who took you down with him. Clarke looked down at you and Bellamy, his arm thrown over your waist before she looked into her cup. It shattered on the floor and Clarke watched as Luna walked away, letting Clarke fall to the floor as well.
You woke up with a start, the sky above you a muted blue as you blinked your eyes into focus. Glancing around, you saw Bellamy not far from as you leaned over, shaking his shoulder. He gasped as he woke up, you hand leaving his shoulder briefly before you put it back. He didn’t say anything and covered your hand with his own. You pushed yourself up, Bellamy following suit before he grabbed his gun, you were bow, as the others started to wake up. You helped along, giving them gentle taps with your feet until you were looking out over the water.
It wasn’t the same feeling you received on the rig, staring out at the water. Bellamy came to stand next to you, the others joining as well as Bellamy grabbed your hand. “What now?” He asked out loud. You weren’t sure if anyone had an answer, but you all looked to Clarke, hoping by some miracle, she knew what to do.
A/N: I’ve tried to post this all afternoon and then I finally had to delete it and post it through my computer I didn’t have on me at the time. IF YOU HAVEN’T FOLLOWED ME, DROP A FOLLOW AND GET ME UP TO 2K! I’M JUST A FEW PEOPLE AWAY!
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robstar mistletoe
(Ao3)
Also, if you enjoyed my work, here's Ko-fi link if you'd be so kind ❤️ .
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- Robin... what is that?
At first, Robin didn't know what his girlfriend was pointing to, but as his eyes moved up, he noticed the ornament Starfire has been curious about. It was, after all, her first winter on Earth, and during the time she has asked even more questions about people's customs. She was surprised to find that humans worshipped oval-shaped gods made from snow, that they decorated their houses with objectively too many lights, or that said lights were landing marks for flying reindeer.
This one, however, was going to hit a bit closer to home.
- Er, it's mistletoe. - Missile toe? - Star flew up to take a closer look - It doesn't look like an active weapon. - No, mistletoe. And it's actually poisonous, I think. - But why would humans decorate their doorways with poisonous plants? - Starfire did a loop in the air - Does this have anything to do with cutting trees and putting partridges in them for twelve days in a row?
Robin smiled.
- No, it's a tradition, like everything else. We don't really question it. It's just how things are. And uh...
He shied away for a moment.
- And you are supposed to kiss when you meet underneath it. - Oh!
Starfire landed on the ground, her cheeks flushing with visible shade of crimson.
- Does this have the same purpose as the tunnel of the love? - Y-Yeah, pretty much. And you put it over the doorway, so that it increases chances of it. - I see. - Starfire spoke, though Robin wasn't entirely sure if she did.
The concept of kissing as a sign of affection was after all, alien to her until some time ago, and Robin was sure her first thought was that mistletoe was an invitation to spontaneous language classes.
- Robin. - she addressed him - I wish to walk through the doorway with you.
She reached her hand, and with a smirk, Robin accepted it, just so she could experience this tradition.
- Do we kiss directly underneath it? Does its kissing power have a range? - Underneath is just fine...
He cupped her face and looked inside her deep, green eyes, before the two closed their eyes and their lips met. And like all the previous times, Robin felt the electrifying heat that permeated his body, especially when Starfire introduced her tongue. If they didn't have to decorate the Titans Tower for the party for the young superheroes, he'd gladly let their hormones take over. He gently pressed her against the frame, and in return, received a prolonged moan, and her leg slipped between his, giving him a not-so-subtle information what was on her mind as well.
And if not for a sudden noise from the main room that broke their concentration, Robin knew they would have done it here and then, using a moment of privacy to let go of their urges. But as they looked to the hall and noticed a whole bunch of ornament on the floor, they knew they will have to help Beast Boy.
Starfire sneaked just one last kiss, before she flew up, making sure to "accidentally" brush his crotch with her foot on the way up.
Two hours later their party was finished, and judging by number of guests, it was a resounding success. Beast Boy's and Cyborg's dishes satiated people's bellies giving the young, adolescent heroes and heroines something to snack on while they had a bit of a breather before the next year begins.
- Robin! I am so joyful we have created such wonderful of crisis parties! - she sat next to him with a tray free of champagne glasses she was handling - Christmas parties - Robin corrected her
Robin remembered a few new year's parties in Wayne manor, full of stuck-up businessmen and women in black tuxedos and silver dresses, talking about nothing else than money, which utterly bored him. Seeing his friends, old and new, laughing and joking, in their colourful costumes made a rare, warm smile appear on his face.
And then something flew above them. Something bright and yellow, carrying something red and green.
- Bumblebee!
The leader of Titans East giggled and dropped the mistletoe on robin's head, before transforming back to her original self, gathering attenion and several cheers from her fellow heroes.
- Come on, kiss! - Guys...
Robin gently flicked the mistletoe of his head, but as it flew downwards to his crotch, the crowd's gasps suddenly stopped, when they realised that Starfire's head was bobbing in the same direction.
- S-Star?! - Robin gasped as his girlfriend was undoing his fly - What-WHAT are you doing? - I am following the rule of the missile toe. - she replied nonchalantly, fishing his cock out, to an even louder amount of murmurs - Isn't that what is it about? To kiss what's underneath it? After all, you wanted to "do me” in the doorframe before, didn’t you?...
She licked the tip of his penis, looking up at flabbergasted Bumblebee. For a split of a second, hers and Robin's eyes met, and he froze when he saw a sly smile on her face.
- Yeah, Starfire. That's exactly what it's about.
Starfire let out pleasured moan and closed her lips around his cock, completely unaware of his embarrassment. Dozens of pairs of eyes`observed Starfire nonchalantly worshipping his prick, meticulously kissing, licking and sucking every inch of his boy wonder. Some, like Batgirl were naturally shocked; others like Jinx or Supergirl seemed to enjoy the live performance that definitely wasn't on the invitation.
He closed his eyes, hoping that sensation of stares burning into his soul would go away, and his brain locked on the only other piece of advice from his school years when he was presenting his reports: to imagine people naked. But that didn't help at all! At least not until part of that fantasy came true.
Raven's quick thinking and her magic brought two dozens more of mistletoe bundles she scattered around the room.
- Hey, guys, you know the rule...
She winked at Robin and as the crowd began to thin out, he understood her plan.
- And don't worry, we have spare rooms... Oh, and there is a condom dispenser down the corridor...
With her magic, she brought Beast Boy between her thighs, while Bumblebee happily flew after Cyborg, who already got Jinx sitting in his laps on the large couch. The awkward murmurs and gasps turned into excited gasps and laughter, as pairs and sometimes trios of superheroes dispersed to change the theme of the party. And with only his closest friends around, Robin could finally let it go, and have Starfire's tireless work pay off.
He let out a weak, defeated moan when his seed filled Starfire's mouth, though his voice died between those of Raven's and Beast Boy's, sitting closer to them.
Starfire looked up, wiping out small dollop of his cum from her lips, looking with unbridled satisfaction. But when she turned around, and noticed almost complete lack of guests, her smile faltered.
- Robin! The guests have gone away! Did-did I do something wrong?
Robin took a good look at Beast Boy, driving Raven crazy with his animal tongue, and at Cyborg's cock, sandwiched between Jinx's and Bumblebee's pussies.
- No, you didn't. - she leaned and kissed her, before he brought her to his laps and placed the same mistletoe above her breasts.
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