#his feels for not reflect mine- I’m excited to get to threads again! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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𝘽𝙊𝙔𝙁𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙉𝘿 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗 (18+)

∘ request(s): I am in love w all of you and i'm getting to the others when they fit :)

my personal favorites:

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (minors dni), smut, choking, fingering, slight domination

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

a/n: my incentive for getting these done (when they're fuffy) is listening to 21st Century Vampire in a dark room for four days, in case you guys were wondering.

Your tongue felt like sandpaper as you chewed the inside of your cheek. "No, uh… I think I need some time…" you trailed, your eyes flashing to his. "... To think…"

He nodded slightly, taking one last look at you before slipping out your front door, the lock clicking shut behind him.

Your heart hammered in your ears. You took a seat on your couch, carding your fingers through your hair as his face flashed into your mind, the somewhat confused expression boring a hole in your heart. You’d led him on, you knew it. It wasn’t that you weren’t into him, but the cold fear of what the two of you had vanishing after assigning labels flushed through your body. What if it was only as strong as it was because you weren’t stuck to each other? Was the fact that you were choosing to sleep with him and him alone not enough? What more could he want?

Then it dawned on you; what more would it be? The two of you were already attached at the hip a ridiculous amount of time, you already knew more about him than you cared to, and obviously, the two of you were already past the awkwardness of building a sexual relationship.

So what the fuck was wrong with you? Would it be so awful to be his girlfriend?

You avoided him for a few weeks, your mind burning with guilt and indecisiveness. As soon as you had straightened your thoughts and favored one reality over another, it was like buyer’s guilt persuaded you the other way.

Lectures were quiet, even lonesome for you without him around. That would add to your Pro Karl list; he was great company, especially in public, when he knew people were watching the two of you. Would that element be different when the two of you were dating?

You hadn’t realized how apparent your moping had become until your roommate brought it up one night. You were tucked into your favorite spot on the couch, mind racing with how to solve your problems. “I called Karl. I’m sick of this weepy, self-loathing bullshit. Man up and tie him down. I know you want to,” she stated bluntly, tugging open the curtains in the room to get to the windows. The night breeze wafted in as if it’d been knocking against the glass for an hour. “He’s outside.”

You blinked at her as she pulled you out of your seat. “He’s what?”

She pulled you behind her, slipping on her jacket. “I’m going to Clay’s. Work this shit out and let me know if I need to vacate for the week,” she jested, making you roll your eyes as she pushed you out in front of her. As she headed down the stairwell, Karl was on his way up, greeting her brightly as he usually did.

He smiled at you gently as he stopped in front of you, fondness and allure playing in his eyes. Even if you looked disheveled, he still looked upon you with pride and admiration. His hair was longer, but despite that, he looked exactly the same way you’d left him. You cleared your throat, the wind bringing his scent towards you. “We need to talk,” you mumbled. “You were right.”

He pressed his back against the dividing wall, tucking a cigarette behind his ear that he had between his fingers and looking out over the railing behind you. The city lights reflected in his eyes. "I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything. I just..." He looked at you softly. "Fuck, I really like you."

You crossed your arms, hands rubbing against the sleeves of your hoodie to generate more warmth. You were so torn. Most of you, wanted to wrap yourself up in him and give in to his offer while the ugly, nagging thoughts in your brain told you to run. "What about after we cool down then?" You asked, making one of his eyebrows feign to furrow. "Are you still going to be attracted to me after I'm… domesticated?"

He smiled slightly. "I'll probably be attracted to you even when your tits sag to your waist, baby." You rolled your eyes at his joke and he crossed the space between the two of you, shoes dragging against the cement. He pushed his fingers into your hair, settling his hand against your neck so his thumb brushed against your jaw soothingly. You leaned into his touch. "I just want to be locked down by you," he chided. "... Officially."

You let out a small wheeze. "You're not gonna be into my friends next week, are you?" It was a joke, but it came out as more of an insecurity.

He fought not to grin. "You're fuckin' serious?" He used his other hand to separate your arms gently, stepping into your embrace. "When I'm with other people, all I can think about is how they're not you."

He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, eliciting a pleasant sigh from between your lips. You tightened your arms around him, basking in the warmth of his body as you threaded your hands beneath his jacket. "Even your mom?"

He snorted. "Don't make this weird," he jested, making you laugh softly. He pulled your body completely against him, digging his face into the crook of your neck as you sighed tiredly, your cheek pressing against his shoulder.

The bathwater was warm against your skin, Karl’s arm wrapping around your shoulder to pull you closer to him in the small tub, making you giggle slightly. You paused what you were doing as he dug his nose into the crook of your neck. You struggled to shrug from his grasp. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna mess up your nails,” you wheezed, before he surrendered, leaning his back against the porcelain.

It was a brighter color than he usually wore, but the hue still gave him the dark appearance he prided himself on. Goosebumps peppered your skin as he drew absent-minded shapes into your back with the pad of his finger. “I missed you,” he hummed. Despite having your back to him and concentrating on not smearing his nail polish, you could hear the content smile in his voice. “And now, I’m your boyfriend,” he mocked, eliciting a snort from you.

You screwed the cap on the polish when you were satisfied with your work. “I feel like a middle school girl every time you say that,” you grumbled, jokingly.

He snickered. “Me too.” You could feel him watching you carefully as you blew on the nail polish, his fingers to your lips to test their dryness. He curled around you again, pressing his lips to your neck, his other arm curling around your torso. His breath was sweet against your skin, mixing with the steam from the water. “Stop it, or I’ll get too excited,” he groaned, making you smile.

You moved his hand to rest in the crook of your neck, fingers threatening to demonstrate his true strength. He swapped hands, his fingers dipping beneath the water towards your heat. His other hand wrapped around your neck, waiting for your first moans until applying pressure. Your head tilted back against his shoulder as he rubbed circles against your bundle of nerves, a sigh of pleasure spilling past your lips as his teeth nipped gently at your shoulders.

Your knees peeked out above the surface of the water as you leaned further back against him. He pressed his lips to the skin behind your ear. “Look at my girlfriend, so needy so quickly,” he moaned in your ear, slipping one of his fingers into you. His name fell from your lips as if your life depended on you repeating it. He pumped another finger into you, basking in the way you reacted to him. You hated how well he knew your body.

Before you knew it, your back was pressing into your sheets, Karl hovering over you. You dug your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly on his locks as he pushed himself into you with a moan. His hips rolled against yours, his forearms resting on either side of your head, pressing his lips to your shoulder. It wasn’t long until he was thrusting in and out of you, teeth printing his mark on your skin. “All mine,” he moaned as your fingernails pressed into his skin.

You smirked slightly, rutting your hips against his. “Oh, right there, Todd,” you moaned almost pornographically. Karl stiffened slightly, struggling not to laugh as you giggled.

His teeth dug into your neck, shutting you up with a moan. He pushed your hands above your head, intertwining his fingers with yours while his other hand moved to wrap around your throat. “He fucking wishes,” he hissed through gritted teeth, making your toes curl. His pace slowed, focused on driving himself deeper into you, reaching your sweet spot with each of his thrusts.

You moaned his name, pressing your lips to his shoulder as he dug his nose into the crook of your neck. He muttered pet names into your ear, coaxing you over the edge with his declarations of ownership over you.

The next morning, you wrapped your arms around Karl’s waist, pressing your cheek against the middle of his shoulder blades as he stirred whatever he was making. Your hands looped into the front pocket of his hoodie. The kitchen was humming with life as the radio hummed softly in one of the corners and the two of you lightly conversed.

You moved to lean against the counter beside him, attempting not to completely gush at the sight of his messy hair and lazy smile as he made you breakfast. “So, do I get to wear your letterman’s jacket now?” You joshed, making him smirk.

He flipped a pancake. “I mean, you can if you’d like, I think it’s at my mom’s,” he answered, soft tones of sleep still hanging in his voice. “You can twin with your pal, Todd. We went to the same high school.”

Your head tilted at the news, mouth slightly ajar. “No way. Please tell me you’re joking.”

He shrugged. “We lived down the road from each other growing up,” he recounted, making you chuckle at the irony.

You wet your lips slightly. “Now that we’re official, do you wanna have a threesome with him?” You asked sarcastically.

“If Todd’s dick comes anywhere near me, I’m moving to Iceland,” he finalized, making you laugh.

Tag List: @mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole

#edgy!karl #edgy!karl jacobs #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs smut #karl jacobs x y/n #karl jacobs my beloved #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs x you #mcyt x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 12

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

He’s surprised how nervous he feels knocking on her door. This is far from their first date and, while not exactly planned, he’s already stayed the night at her place. But this date feels significant to him, and perhaps what he’s nervous about is how she’ll react to what he has planned. He takes a moment to pull in a deep breath, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt, but when she opens the door all his nerves subside.

She’s wearing jeans and a pink tank top that has thin straps and is relatively low cut, a small bow pinned to the center right above her breasts. Over it, she has on a black cardigan worn open, her hair down and a little mussed. She smiles warmly and his heart lurches.

“Hi,” she says, and steps forward, pushing on to her tip toes and placing a hand on his shoulder so she can kiss him. Is this the first time she’s been the one to initiate the kiss? He thinks it might be, and it makes his knees wobble.

“You look beautiful,” he says, openly dragging his eyes over her, feeling grateful that he doesn’t have to hide it.

“Well, after the other day I’m sure anything is an improvement,” she comments self-deprecatingly.

He cups her chin in his hand, tilting her face up to look at his. “You are always beautiful. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”

She scoffs and looks away.

“You don’t have to try that hard, Mulder. You were already gonna get lucky,” she says playfully, pushing past him into the hallway.

He stands there for a moment, stunned by her candor and wondering what that means. Does that mean she wants to have sex? Or is she just referring to what they’ve already been doing?

“You coming?” she asks, and he snaps himself out of it, stepping into the hall so she can lock the door behind them. “Where are we going?” she asks, slipping her hand into his.

He has half a mind to ask if they should just spend the evening on her couch, but he resists.

“You’ll see,” he says with a smile, and gives her hand a squeeze.

When they park outside the Queen Vic she gives him a curious little glance, but doesn’t say anything. In the lobby, he leans in to ask the host for a particular table, speaking softly so she can't hear him. When the host leads them to the same table they’d sat at the last time they were here nearly a year ago, she smiles broadly, but again makes no comment. She orders the same IPA, and they both get fish and chips. So much is the same, and yet it’s so different; her foot hooked around his ankle under the table, the times she reaches out to touch his hand, the unabashed way she beams at him, laughing at his jokes and peeking at him from underneath her eyelashes. They drink, and eat, and talk. They talk about their childhoods and their teenage rebellions, she tells him how she gets through particularly rough autopsies and he tells her about the Gunmen and how they keep asking to meet her. It’s so easy between them, and so right, as it always has been. But now, his heart fills to bursting knowing that they can see this thing through, that he will later get to kiss that little mole above her lip that she tries to cover with makeup, feel her perfectly manicured fingernails scrape against his scalp. There’s so much more to learn about her, but he knows he will. They have another chance, and it makes him feel like he could cry just thinking about it.

After dinner, he drives them down to the wharf and they get ice cream cones from a little stand by the water; she picks cookies and cream and he opts for rocky road. They walk along the boardwalk hand in hand as the sun eases its way towards the horizon.

“Are you going to maintain control of your ice cream cone this time?” she asks with a smirk, the first mention she’s made of the fact that he’s replicating their first date.

“Well, a lot has changed since last time, however the fact that I can’t take my eyes off of you isn’t one of them, so the ice cream cone is still at risk,” he retorts, rotating his cone dramatically for effect.

She laughs, the sweetest sound he has ever or will ever hear, and he pulls her over to the rail that separates the walk from the water. She leans her back against it and he bends down to kiss her, holding his ice cream off to the side. She tastes sweet, her lips slightly chilled, and the kiss devolves into lapping tongues and soft moans unexpectedly quickly.

She puts her free hand on his chest and pushes gently until he pulls back, then smiles dreamily up at him, licking her lips.

“Should I expect an after-hours baseball session?” she asks coyly, and he frowns.

“No, sorry. Byers, that’s my buddy who got the keys last time, said there’s a private event going on there tonight,” he says regretfully.

“Oh, thank god,” she says with a relieved sigh, and he quirks his head at her quizzically. “The only thing I enjoyed about that, Mulder, was you pressing your body against mine, and now we can do that whenever we want, no batting practice facades necessary,” she says with a smile.

“That does sound a lot more fun than baseball,” he replies huskily, “and I really like baseball, Scully.”

“I know you do,” she says in a syrupy voice before she captures his bottom lip between her teeth.

“Are you done with your ice cream?” he asks, and she looks at her half-eaten cone before giving him a determined stare and nodding her head.

He squirms in his seat on the way back to her apartment, stealing glances at her across the console intermittently. She seems perfectly calm and not at all affected, and he wonders if he’s misreading the situation. His cock jumps a little, threatening to spread into a full fledged erection every time he lets his mind wander to what might happen next. He suddenly wonders if he should have brought a condom, but then assumes she probably has them. But what if she doesn’t? It’ll be fine, they don’t have to have sex tonight. But he’d really, really like to. It’s not until they are parked outside her building that it occurs to him that she hasn’t actually invited him up and, not wanting to be presumptuous, he doesn’t ask.

———

Mulder seems jumpy, nervous even, and she finds it mildly entertaining. She’s been toying with the idea of sleeping with him, but ultimately decided to just let things unfold how they would; he’s already clearly demonstrated his skill in the area of foreplay so she can be sure to have a good time whether or not sex is part of it. They pull up in front of her building and he sits there with the engine running, looking at her apprehensively. She smiles, and decides not to mess with him.

“You wanna come up?” she asks plainly, and he lets out a huge exhale.

“Absofuckinglutely,” he says, unbuckling his seat belt and killing the engine.

They make their way into her apartment, Mulder still acting awkward and uncomfortable, and she thinks that maybe should mess with him just a little.

“Make yourself at home,” she says, draping her purse over the back of a chair and kicking off her shoes, “I’ll be right back.”

He nods and sits on the couch, and she ducks into the bathroom. She’d worn a decently cute bra and panty set, but not the kind that can be classified as lingerie. After emptying her bladder and freshening up a bit, she sneaks into her bedroom and changes into a red lace thong and matching bra. She considers herself in the mirror, debating whether she should put the clothes she was wearing back on, or something else.

“Hey Scully?” She hears Mulder call through the crack in the open door.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

Her mouth quirks, an idea taking shape.

“What?” she says in response, brushing her palms over her bare hips.

“Do you want me to put a movie on?” he repeats.

“I can’t hear you, Mulder, can you come in here?”

Her heart starts up a steady thrum of excitement, but she keeps her demeanor calm, watching her reflection and smiling at herself.

She hears the door open behind her.

“I was wondering if you wa-” he begins, then stops abruptly.

She can’t see him from this angle and she waits a beat before looking back over her shoulder. He still has his hand on the doorknob, his mouth hanging open mid sentence and his eyes hooded with desire. She glances down and sees him growing stiff under his jeans, the knowledge setting off a throb between her legs. She turns to face him, slowly crossing the room and threading her arms around his waist. As soon as they make contact, he puts his hands firmly on her hips and slides them down to cup her bare ass cheeks with a little groan.

“Do you want to watch a movie, Mulder?” she asks rhetorically, flexing her pelvis against him.

He shakes his head, stooping to lift her off the floor before he walks them over to her bed. Setting her down gently in the middle, he moves to hover over her and she bends her leg, planting a foot in the middle of his chest.

“You’re wearing way too much clothing,” she observes, then watches him as he strips off his shirt and jeans, standing before her in black boxer briefs. She hasn’t had a chance to really see his body yet and she sighs as she takes in his firm yet slim torso, muscular but not bulky. Her eyes wander down further to where his erection tents the fabric of his boxers, and she smiles. “You look good without clothes on,” she says softly, and he smirks self-consciously. She almost asks him to take the boxers off too, but decides not to deprive herself of the opportunity to do so, so she motions for him to join her on the bed instead.

He carefully crawls up beside her, lying on his side while she remains on her back. He reaches out tentatively to brush his palm over her belly, his eyes poring over every bit of skin he can see until they rest on her face. They hold eye contact for a beat and she reaches up to touch his neck, inviting him to kiss her. They start slowly, softly, and he trails from her lips to her cheek, down her neck until he’s dipping his tongue into the space between her breasts. His hands trace along the hem of her panties, brushing up over her knees and back down the inside of her thigh. His touch is soft and exploratory, igniting nerve endings and building anticipation for a firmer touch in a more exciting place. It’s a slow burn and she is happy to let him take his time.

He slips the tips of his fingers just beneath the hem of her panties and slides them back and forth from hip to hip.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, his teeth grazing her hardened nipple through her bra.

“Mmm, yes,” she answers.

He sits up and peels her panties slowly down her legs; the damp gusset is easily visible against the red fabric and she’s only had them on for about five minutes. When he reaches her feet, he plucks them off her ankles and bunches the fabric up in his palm, pressing it to his nose briefly before tossing it on the floor. She gives him a surprised smile but recognizes that even if she finds it a bit odd intellectually, it does turn her on.

He returns to his spot beside her and she rolls onto her side so that they are facing each other.

“Can I get some help here?” she asks in mock incompetence, tugging at the strap of her bra.

“Of course,” he answers in mock seriousness, reaching behind her to deftly unhook the band and watching as the cups slide away from her breasts.

He helps her pull the straps free of her arms, then sighs as he looks over her naked form.

“You look fucking amazing without clothes on,” he says, full of awe.

“Thank you,” she replies, tilting towards him until he has rolled onto his back, then hitching a leg over his hip, straddles him. Sitting fully nude on his lap, his erection pressing into her ass as he stares up at her with lustful eyes makes her feel like a goddess, like Aphrodite at the altar. She brings her hands up to gently cup her breasts and he groans, his fingers flexing against her thighs.

“Scoot up,” he commands, and she gives him a questioning look but does it, now planted on his chest with his sparse hairs tickling her damp lips.

“More,” he says, in an equally authoritative tone. Normally she wouldn't appreciate being ordered around like this, but the look on his face makes her want to comply.

She shifts her weight to her knees, preparing to scoot just a touch higher, when he threads his arms under her thighs and slides down, pressing his face into her vulva.

“Oh god!” she startles, totally caught off guard, and reaches one hand out to steady herself on the headboard.

For a moment she just perches there, out of her element as Mulder begins to flick his tongue across her clit before dragging it up and down over her lips. This isn’t something she’s ever done before and while it doesn’t feel bad, it doesn’t necessarily feel good, either; it’s hard to relax while holding herself up over him.

As if reading her mind, Mulder wraps his palms around the tops of her thighs and pulls her down hard until she is fully sitting on him, her weight no longer her own to support. She’s afraid she’s suffocating or hurting him, but then he starts humming and moaning against her like he’s enjoying the most delicious meal of his life and she realizes that this is exactly what he wanted; to be suffocated by her pussy. She leans forward and rests her head against her forearm, further relaxing and acclimating to the position.

Unlike the flicking and licking sensations of the typical position for cunnilingus, this affords more pressure and area of contact. Something, must be his tongue, is probing at her opening, flexing against her walls deliciously, while something else, perhaps teeth, scrapes gently against her clit. The more she relaxes into it, the better it feels, and the heavier she sits on him, the more he groans and sucks at her. She feels a slight rhythmic jostling and glances back to see that he’s freed his turgid hard-on from his boxers and is pumping up and down vigorously, and the image pushes her close to the edge. She drops her head back onto her arm and starts flexing her hips against his face, putting the pressure right where she wants it to be, and feels the tingle of an impending orgasm building in her toes. The more she moves and flexes against him, the more he moans and the harder he pumps, and the more she can tell that he is clearly getting off on this, the more turned on she becomes. The cycle builds and builds until it crests, the gathering pleasure bursting all at once as she comes hard against his mouth, his tongue tucked snugly inside her as she pulses around it, coming undone. Soon enough he cries out and she feels his cum spurt hot on her back, running down over her ass and pooling on his sternum.

As her own orgasm subsides, she suddenly feels like she’s made of jelly and slumps to the side, cringing in realization that the cum on her back is now on her comforter. She looks over at Mulder, his chin glistening as he breathes heavily, his eyes on the ceiling. She looks down at his spent cock, shrinking away from the pool of liquid it left behind.

“Well,” she says, “that was...different.”

He turns his head to the side and gives her a lopsided smile. “Was it?”

She shrugs. “That was a first for me,” she says shyly, feeling silly.

“Oh,” he says, clearly a little surprised but not unpleasantly so. “Well, what’d ya think?” he asks with an expectant look.

“Uh, it was...it was terrible, honestly,” she says, feigning a very business-like tone. “I hated it.”

He gives her a cheeky smile. “Oh, you did?”

She nods with a matter-of-fact look on her face.

“Do you normally come that hard when you hate things?” he asks curiously.

She grins at him then, done with the joke, and he grins back.

“Let me get you a towel,” he says, rolling off the bed carefully to contain the mess.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” she retorts, earning a chuckle.

After they have cleaned and re-dressed, they do end up watching a movie. She falls asleep halfway through, the comfort of his large frame wrapped around her making her feel so safe she can’t help but drift off. This time, she invites him to stay the night, and is delighted to find him wrapped around her again when she wakes in the morning.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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tiifalockhart · 3 years

Text

Freckles

Pairing: Zack x Sephiroth

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None

A/N: This is for a dear friend of mine’s birthday <3 Happy birthday Ana, I hope you like your gift!! Inspired by her obsession with Sephiroth’s tiny freckles in AC <3

Masterlist || Ao3

A secret that Sephiroth somehow managed to unintentionally hide was the fact that he had freckles.

The moment Zack realized it, it was like he fell in love all over again.

It wasn’t an easy task to get close to Sephiroth, both emotionally and physically. Sometimes, it felt like you were speaking to a brick wall whenever you came into contact with him. He was formal and polite... That was about the best most strangers could describe him as. Sephiroth didn’t really open up to anyone, and anyone who wanted to try had to work very hard for it. There were very few people he naturally bonded with... One of those people being the “puppy” of SOLDIER.

Realistically, Zack was the only one close even to get a good look at Sephiroth’s facial features. The silver haired SOLDIER rarely let someone get close to him, even if they dared to. Most people were simply too intimidated to look him in the eye.

Zack knew Sephiroth’s face like the back of his hand (mostly from the many hours he’s spent admiring and kissing it). He knew the way his cat-like pupils reacted to the lighting of the room, the way his face would get a pink tint whenever Zack said something mildly inappropriate. He knew the way Sephiroth would apply his mascara to hide his white eyelashes or the slight pout that would form on Sephiroth’s lips whenever Zack would take too long to join him in bed. Zack even knew the curves and strong features of Sephiroth’s face, his fingers trailing along with his cheek and jaw bones seemingly unendingly. The most enchanting part of Sephiroth’s facial features would be his tiny freckles that decorated the top of his cheekbones and nose.

Sephiroth’s freckles are an easy feature to miss. No one knows where they came from, especially since none of Sephiroth’s supposed fathers or mothers had freckles. Perhaps it was from the sun from his many missions, but the rest of him never seemed to adopt this same tan (imagine the tan lines, though). It was a mystery for sure, but Zack hardly gave a damn about where they came from.

The puppy’s favorite pass time quickly became kissing or counting Sephiroth’s freckles. Zack would squint and attempt to count them from across the room as if it was some kind of a game. Lazard definitely wasn’t seeing things when he saw Sephiroth’s cheeks turn slightly rosy from Zack’s gaze during a meeting one day.

Every other day, Zack would happily hold Sephiroth against his chest and recount his freckles, especially during their slow days. Zack continued to make ridiculous claims that Sephiroth had somehow developed yet another freckle. Most conversations went about the same.

“Forty-five.... Forty-six.... Forty-seven.... Oh?....” Zack counted off as he examined Sephiroth’s face. The silver haired male was currently napping beneath him, lulled to sleep by Zack’s hand running through his hair. He nearly jumped out of his skin at Zack’s loud and dramatic gasp. “You have another one!! Forty-eight freckles!” He cheered.

Sephiroth’s frown quickly turned into a pout as he sat up, removing himself from Zack’s lap. “You’ve interrupted my nap... Again.” He muttered, a sigh of defeat leaving his lips. “And I don’t have another freckle.” The SOLDIER added, moving over to the coffee machine and preparing for the evening.

“You definitely have a new freckle.” Zack insisted, a proud smirk on his lips as he admired his boyfriend from afar. Sephiroth couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. He knew better than to deny Zack, considering that Sephiroth never actually developed more freckles. Zack, frankly, was just terrible at counting them and would recount the same few freckles over and over again.

...And Sephiroth had a lot more than just forty-eight freckles.

After a quick glance in the reflection of the metal in their microwave, Sephiroth let out a satisfactory hum. “It seems that I do.” He agreed formally, his straight face breaking as soon as Zack’s arms wrapped around him again.

“Told ya.” Zack purred, that same proud grin decorating his lips. Sephiroth’s cheeks heated up at the touch, causing him to stubbornly look away.

“Don’t stare at me like you did the other day again during our meetings. Lazard asked me about the other day... I had to come up with a weird excuse.” He explained, handing Zack his overly-sweetened coffee before making his own bland and bitter black coffee.

“Weird excuse?” Zack asked, pulling away and not really bothering to hide the smirk. “What did you manage to come up with? It’s not every day someone sees the hero himself blush.” He teased, replacing the ever-growing smirk with his coffee mug.

“I... Do not wish to talk about it.” Sephiroth replied, looking away as he sulked. The images of Lazard’s disapproving gaze slowly changing into a knowing smirk will haunt Sephiroth forever. Zack could only let out a hushed chuckle as he shrugged it off.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, big guy.” He answered, reaching up to ruffle Sephiroth’s hair. The first class SOLDIER glared at Zack, an obvious gleam of playfulness in his eyes.

Sephiroth ran his fingers through his hair, fixing the mess that Zack had made as he examined the younger. “It seems you wish to run more laps today, Zack.” Sephiroth quipped, causing the younger to raise his brows in surprise.

“Hey, who told you that you could go all ‘Big Boss-man’ on me?” He complained. Apparently, it was Zack’s turn to pout as Sephiroth moved on from the kitchen, heading towards his bedroom to change.

“I did. I hope you’ll be dressed before me... The track is looking quite lonely today otherwise.” Sephiroth continued, a smug glint in his eyes as he disappeared into his bedroom.

Naturally, the two of them ended right back in the same spot later that night. Zack was cradling a sleepy Sephiroth, his fingers threading through his silver hair. Sephiroth wasn't much of a cuddler, especially with people who happen to be younger than him. Zack was very.... Proud, to say the least. It isn't just anyone who can make the top SOLDIER melt under their touch. Not even Genesis or Angeal had the same experience as Zack did. Zack definitely took this as a blessing and an ego booster.

As much as Sephiroth dreaded it, he would occasionally feel the gentle brush of Zack’s free hand against his cheek as he once again counted the freckles on his face. Eventually, Zack will move on, Sephiroth thought. He will soon.... Right?

Sephiroth ended up being very wrong. How was he supposed to reject those heart-wrenching and cursed puppy eyes? Eventually, the counting exceeded past just counting. It grew from simple admiration to kissing. Sephiroth’s face would always end up with a slight pink tint by the time Zack moved on from decorating each of his freckles with two kisses each.

This obsession also resulted in... Weird nicknames. Sephiroth, admittedly, wasn’t quite sure how he felt about most of them. They ranged from pretty normal names to something he would name a dog. For example, “Speckles” was certainly somewhere in that grey area. Over time, Sephiroth found himself growing more and more used to these... “Nicknames,” even responding to those that sound absolutely ridiculous.

Any time Sephiroth would come home to Zack, a bright grin was always present on the younger’s face. It made his heart swell... The thought of someone caring about him enough to be excited to see him every waking moment. “Good evening, Zack.” Sephiroth greeted somewhat formally, still adjusting to the whole ‘boyfriend’ concept.

Zack looked up at his lover. “Evening, cupcake with sprinkles.” He chimed, catching Sephiroth off guard. The silver haired male stopped in his tracks, slowly turning towards the other.

“...What did you just call me?” He questioned, a confused and slightly bewildered look in his eyes. Sephiroth swore he had misheard Zack.

Zack laughed quietly and pushed himself off the couch, giving Sephiroth his greeting kiss. “Cupcake with sprinkles?” He replied, the statement sounding much like a question. “No good?” Zack asked, grinning at the older SOLDIER.

Sephiroth, attempting to suppress the red color on his face, looked away. “It’s quite... Unique.” He answered, attempting to salvage Zack’s feelings. “However, you have come up with better in the past.” He continued, pulling away and stepping into his bedroom, beginning to change.

Zack leaned against the door frame and raised a brow, crossing his arms as the smallest smirk formed on his lips. “Oh yeah? Like what?” He hummed, a somewhat teasing tone to his voice. Sephiroth’s mind began to swarm with the many, many terrible names Zack managed to come up with. Don’t get him wrong, he found it quite endearing... But at the same time, it was just downright weird stuff sometimes.

A stifled cough left Sephiroth’s lips as he searched for an answer, before sighing in defeat. “...I thought freakles was quite unique and amusing.” He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck as he slid past Zack.

Zack’s eyes lit up with admiration and interest, he obviously wasn’t expecting that answer. “You liked freakles? Out of every other nickname I’ve ever come up with?” He questioned, a hint of surprise in his voice. Sephiroth sighed in defeat as he grabbed some leftover food out of the fridge.

“It is certainly better than ‘cupcake with sprinkles.’ I am not a cupcake, Zack.” Sephiroth explained, attempting to bite back the smile that was fighting its way to his lips. “Freakles was... Witty. I liked it.” He explained, crossing his arms as he turned towards Zack.

Zack raised a brow and nodded lightly. “Who knew you liked dad jokes so much?” He retorted playfully, winking at the older. Sephiroth scoff as he watched his food spin in the microwave.

“I only like them because you never stop telling them.” He pointed out, raising a brow. “You’re worse than Angeal’s old jokebooks.” The first class SOLDIER teased.

Zack pouted up at his boyfriend, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I think you meant better?” He argued playfully, his voice holding an astronomical amount of sass. Sephiroth merely rolled his eyes and grabbed their food, placing it on two plates for them both.

Eventually, this obsession Zack had developed moved onto simple admiration. Zack constantly had eyes full of love for Sephiroth. It was absolutely adorable to some (like Angeal), and really gross to others (like Genesis). The puppy would get in the same pose every time, his chin would rest on his right palm, his lips would curl into a pleasant smile and his gaze would hold love in it, as if he were falling in love with Sephiroth all over again. There was a point in time where Zack was no longer afraid of people finding out about their relationship. Hell, what is there to be afraid of?

Sephiroth could always feel Zack’s gaze on him, but it didn’t bother him. He had grown used to his unreserved displays of love. PDA had never been something that Sephiroth was fond of, but he would let Zack get away with a lot of it. Most of the time, Zack would pepper kisses along his freckles. Other times, Zack would simply hold his hand, looking like he was the proudest SOLDIER out there. Sephiroth... Admired Zack for his explicit nature when it came to love, he personally could never imagine being so open with the public in such a way. In some weird manner, this open display Zack constantly put on was some version of security for Sephiroth. Surely this meant that they were in it for the long run? Sephiroth wasn’t going to complain, he loved Zack and wanted him to know it at all times as well.

So, from the moment they started being more open about their relationship, there was hardly ever a moment in time where Sephiroth felt lonely and unloved. Zack was always by his side, giving him words of encouragement and kissing each of his freckles. Sephiroth couldn’t ask for anything better at this point. He felt safe knowing that he won’t ever lose Zack.

...And that his crazy nicknames finally stopped.

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crowdedimagines · 4 years

Text

watermelon sugar - harry styles

i’m sure that a lot of people are writing about this or something similar since the music video just came out, but i hope this is new and everyone enjoys:) (Also sorry if I used your names as some of the models, I made them up as I went lol)

“Are you sure about this?” I ask while adjusting the strap of my swimsuit over my shoulder. I catch his eyes in the reflection from the mirror in front of me. I’ve only been sitting in the chair for a few minutes, the makeup is very minimal for the shoot.

“Absolutely.” Harry takes a step forward and hugs me from behind. “They don’t know we’re dating yet, and then once we decide we’re ready it’ll be a fun little easter egg for them to discover”

“Only, if you’re one hundred percent sure. I don’t want us getting out there before you want it to.”

“Of course, love.” He leans forward to press a kiss to my temple, “I think it’s only right to have the muse for the music in the video.”

Harry gets called to set shortly after that and I go hang out with the other girls for the shoot while they get everything ready and Harry films the first scene by himself. It couldn’t have been planned for a better day, the weather is perfect.

“Hey, Y/n.” The girls greet as I walk over.

“Hi!” I smile, I’ve been fortunate enough to meet almost all of them already. We had a few test shots together to get over with before today. All of them have been beyond kind and more than happy to keep Harry and I’s relationship a secret. Sometimes I think they’re more in love with our relationship than I am, which is saying something.

It wasn’t hard for them to figure out between the whispering and the glances exchanged. Plus Harry can be a very affectionate person, and he doesn’t want to hide our relationship from anyone, but the press.

“How’s it going?” Angela asks, everyone looks over the options from craft services.

“It’s alright, I’m excited. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I find that hard to believe!” Heather chimes in, “You could easily be a model. I could totally refer you to my agency.”

“Well, let’s just see how today goes.” I laugh.

I never saw myself as a model, I know that I’m attractive, but never saw myself to that level of desirable. Harry has helped my confidence in so many ways. He can find beauty in almost anything.

“Who here needs sunnies?” One of the assistants on set asks as she lugs a basket with a variety of them.

All of us move forward to look at the options, attempting to match them with our outfits. They all have funky shapes and a colorful tint.

“How about these?” I ask, throwing on a purple pair. I pose a few times making everyone laugh.

“No way.” Jen pulls them off with a giggle, “Blue is totally your color for the day. It matches.”

I take the shades she hands me and my view takes on a blue haze.

“They’re not too big for my face?”

“I think they look great.” A familiar voice calls over my shoulder.

“You think?” I bite my bottom lip, hiding a smile. “I’m not quite sure I’m sold. I feel very blue.”

“I like them.” He pulls them off my face and puts them on himself. He checks his reflection and smiles, a sure sign that he probably wants to steal them.

“I think they look better on you.” I peck his lips, “You have a big head.”

“Hey!” He pouts, wrapping his arms around my waist as his head drops to my shoulder. I laugh and wrap my arms back around his shoulders, rubbing up and down his back.

“It’s a compliment! I need to find a new pair to wear though seeing as you’ve taken mine.” I turn as best as I can with Harry still weighing me down, not relenting his grip.

“One pair left.” Andy hands me the last pair and I thank her. She hands me a red pair that I tuck on the top of my head just in time for us to start filming.

“C’mon love, I know you can do better than that. I’ve seen ya do it better.” He teases, a proud smirk hiding behind the camera.

“Yeah, usually it doesn’t involve a whole crew staring at me.” I give him a dirty look.

Of course faking an orgasm on camera in front of a whole crew would be something easy to him.

“Do we have any tequila on set?” I tease.

“Y/n, it’s not even noon.” Harry reminds with a laugh.

“Says you.” I roll my eyes.

It takes some time and letting lose a little to get shots that look good. It got easier each shot we did. We got several takes that the director and Harry approved of.

If you had told me a year ago that I would be faking an orgasm in a swimsuit on a beach with a watermelon between my legs, I would’ve called you crazy.

“You did it, love.” He tackles me down in the sand. He knew that this was the part that I was least excited for.

“Hey, you got sand all over my watermelon.” I look at the slice that he’s successfully knocked onto the beach.”

“Oh is it now?” He raises his brows, a wide smirk gracing his face.

“Shut up!” I push him off.

“You set yourself up for that one!” He calls after, still laughing.

The other girls film some takes and I’m relieved to have some of the pressure gone. It settles me a little that some of the other girls struggle too, trying not to laugh.

We move on to the next scene which is a group scene. We’re all laid out on the beach, Harry central to everyone. He kept trying to pull me in closer, but I fought to stay by some of the other girls.

“This is just supposed to hint at our relationship, Styles.” I pull my ankle from his grip.

“But, I want to be next to you.” He pouts.

“Aww.” Heather sighs, giving me puppy dog eyes.

“If you feel so bad, you can kiss him for this.” I tell her with a laugh, laying back down on my beach towel.

“Ya don’t even want to kiss yer own boyfriend?” He huffs. He scoots a little closer and reaches an arm out. I expect him to run a hand through my hair, but I’m surprised when he pulls my sunglasses off my face.

“Would you stop stealing my sunglasses?” I yell trying to reach for my pair back. He pulls me close to his side, locking his arms around my waist.

“You just make them look so cute.” He grins.

“Ass.” I mutter as I wiggle from his grip.

“Excuse me, miss, what was that?” He laughs pulling me in closer.

“Get off me.” I can’t fight off the laughter anymore.

We start filming and it takes a lot of shots to get a good mix of everything. Harry being fed fruit, Harry admiring all us girls, and just a lot of overall touching. Touching is a common thread in this video. Heather and Nadra end up being the girls to kiss him on the cheek, but I give in when Harry wants to lay on my chest and be the one to feed him. I’m sure we got a lot of bloopers from it because there were many takes that one of us would breakout laughing.

We move to the next location where we are all supposed to take a group picture, eat more watermelon, and fall into a big group of touching again.

Harry’s fingers are intertwined with mine while my limbs are tangled with someone I’ve only met twice. We lay around for a while, for a full day on set with filming it’s kind of relaxing. We move on to the next bit right after, everything between scenes moving quickly. We’re attempting to film it all in one day so avoid lighting issues between days.

“You better lookout, you keep making music videos with orgys and you’ll get a reputation.” I tease, whispering over his shoulder.

“You’re so in for it when we get home.” He shakes his head while still smiling at the camera.

“Can’t wait.” I smile.

The other girls laugh, of course they heard our conversation we’re all standing or sitting close together for the picture and filming everything. I hover over Harry’s shoulder, liking my spot in the back.

“Alright, so we’ve done all the shots for this spot, we’ve just got one left. We saved it for last because it’s when everyone is eating, Everyone try to get Harry to eat your piece.” The director instructs before calling action.

I share a piece with a girl named Adaline before moving in on Harry, I hold out my piece for him, while I lean in closer to him and bite down lightly on his earlobe. I catch his eyes half close for a second and smirk.

Before he knows it, I move on to be with the other girls and the director yells cut.

“You are something else today, baby.” He shakes his head, still seemingly a little dazed.

“C’mon, babe, we only have one more spot to film.”

I reach out my hand for him to follow as we go down to the beach again. The sun is setting now, casting a completely different light from earlier today. Our director informs us that this is just going to be placed between other shots. More montages of us with Harry, running around on the beach.

“Christ, the water is freezing.” Anna takes a step back out of the water's reach. We’re filming in Malibu, but it’s still technically winter so the water isn’t exactly comfortable.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re running.” Harry laughs, “We barely need to get our ankles wet.”

It doesn’t take long to get enough takes, these scenes are supposed to seem carefree, so they aren’t really planned out.

“Alright, I think we’ve got it all.” The director announces and we all let out a cheer. I give the girls all hugs and find Harry thanking them.

“Hey.” I smile, I kick up a small amount of water on his leg to grab his attention. He turns and there’s already mischelf in his smile.

“Don’t you dare.” I hold out a hand to stop him. I recognize that evil look in his eyes. I take off in a sprint, but his long legs don’t take long to catch up. He reaches around and hooks me into his chest. Before I know it, my feet are off the ground and Harry and I are going in. The water was cold before, but now that I’m enveloped in it, it’s freezing.

Harry and I both come up sputtering for air.

“You ass.” I fight and wrestle with him trying to pull him under again. We’re both laughing while fighting for the upperhand.

“Alright, lets go.” He pulls me up with him. I pull him down one more time, this time for a long kiss. HIs lips are warm and familiar. We walk up the shore a little bit, finding the crew again.

“Thank you for today.” His arm wraps around my shoulder. We both found towels to fight off the teeth chattering.

“Of course, I had so much fun.” I grin. “Plus, I think I’ve made some new friends.”

“That’s lovely. Now let’s get you home.” He pats my bum and scoops up my legs and takes off running.

We filmed the video months ago, and today is the day it’s finally released. It’s been done for a while now, but Harry thought with quarantine and everything it might be a nice pick me up for everyone.

“Ready?” Harry asks as he pulls up the video on the TV.

“Yes! It’s been killing me not seeing it.”

Harry has been in the know of everything, giving his input and changing parts that he wants to. I have been in the dark to it all, seeing the video at the same time as the world. As soon as the music starts and the screen starts to play it a smile grows on my face.

“Oh my god, it’s Angela, and Heather, and Nadra, and Adeline!” I name each girl as they come across the screen. “I miss them.”

I have to fight the urge to cringe when it’s me on the screen. It’s beautifully done, a masterpiece, but I don’t want to think about my parents seeing this.

“Alright, we get it love, you’re friends with em all now.” He teases.

“Shut up!” I slap his chest, “You kind bond with someone when you film a clothed orgy with them.”

Harry’s cheeks turn pink while he fights a smirk.

The video continues and it’s a reminder of what an amazing day it was. It’s cool to see the way it was edited. The way all of us girls were blended together, and small touches were magnified. Everything just feels so sexy. I feel Harry poke at my sides any time that it’s the two of us on the screen, which I have to say might be a tad bit more than other girls. I know for sure that the other girls didn’t get an intense slow motion zoom in if they ever nibbled on his ear. Now it’s my turn to blush.

“Baby, you’ve smashed this.” I comment as the video comes to an end.

“You too.” He presses a kiss to my lips.

“I also have a little surprise.” He reaches for his phone from the coffee table.

“And what would that be?” I prompt, turning to face him on the couch, my legs finding home on his lap.

“This.” He hands me his phone and it’s another video from the day. It’s all of the shots that they filmed on the retro camera for film. It’s a lot of behind the scenes, stuff I never even knew that they were filming for.

Harry giving me hugs while I was in hair and makeup.

Harry and I trading off sunglasses, Twice.

Harry and I’s conversation from when we were taking the group photos.

Harry throwing me in the water and us playfully fighting through shivers.

Harry and I walking away on the beach, as he scoops me up and takes off running.

It was all captured, and I was none the wiser.

“What is this?” I smile, handing him his phone back.

“The video I’m posting...tonight. To confirm our relationship, because I don’t want to hide you anymore. I want everyone to know you’re mine, Especially after that video.” He smirks.

“I love you.” I sigh, pressing my lips to his a few times.

“I love you too.”

“Play it again.” I lay my head back on his shoulder.

“Just for you, sugar.” Harry grins.

this was cute, hope you enjoyed:)

#Harry Styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine

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jojoreadwhat · 4 years

Text

lie / h.s. x fem!reader • smut

where y/n has had enough of their “arrangement” and harry is unsure about his feelings.

words; 4k, this isn’t proofread and I’m sorry

warning; friends with benefits theme. angst, strong language, sexual content including handjob, oral(f!receiving) fingering, edging, penetrative sex. under final cut. then will be concluding with lots of fluff and aftercare. reader is advised

I listened to this

it was going on 3am and Harry was finally giving up on the idea of sleep.

he thought he would have fallen asleep by now after the day he had previously. jam packed with photoshoots, interviews, some time at the studio with Mitch and then ended the night with a party. it was seeming like the liquor he downed earlier on, coursing through his veins wasn’t ready to slow anytime soon yet. and he was over it. tossing and turning in his king sized bed since midnight. he sighed roughly to himself the moment his back met the mattress, lying there still now. defeated and annoyed, looking up at the clear, white ceiling above him. with his mind speckled in thought, the real reason why he wasn’t in a heavy slumber right now.

tonight wasn’t the first one without a good night of sleep. this was night five now. with you on his mind and not next to him. and it wasn’t because you miles apart from each other, on different sides of the earth no. you on his mind wasn’t something new or missing you either. but it was different this time around. when a few days ago, that all changed. when he let you walk out that door, because of him.

harry hasn’t seen you or heard from you for nearly a week now. since you stormed out of this room. he remembers the moment, so vividly. it hasnt left his brain, instead embedded itself to remind him of how much of an asshole he truly is. your naked frame scurrying around his room, picking up all your clothes scattered from the events that took place shortly before. with anger, embarrassment, the sadness that you contained by biting your bottom lip. after spilling your heart out to him, that you loved him. breaking the first rule to your arrangement.

you and harry had a very complicated friendship in the last eight months. at first it wasn’t, it was a very traditional one. both of you met at a mutual friends party a year earlier, hitting it off from the start and the rest became history. you two were inseparable, doing everything, literally, together. you were his date to most of his events, went on trips and getaways together, did mundane things like grocery shopping, which was always a experience. you both hung out all the time. smoking together most nights and playing records, while laying on his living room floor. talking about everything to anything. harry even gave you a key and your own spot in his dresser. you two were a dream team, the friendship that many aspired to have. the one that everyone was waiting to watch bloom into something more.

things changed out of the blue one night. you had come over, distraught over a guy that you were seeing for two months who wasn’t ready for anything to go further. Harry and you did the next best thing, passing a blunt back and forth among each other. lying on his living room floor, listening to fleetwood mac faintly in the background. talking over the worthless two months, the piece of shit of a guy Jared was and how finding love in this day and age just didn’t make sense. next thing you knew, Harry’s waist was wrapped in your legs, his weight heavy enough on you as he kissed you hard and long. your fingers twisted in his little dark brown curls at the back of his neck as pulled him back down to you. neither of you knew how it started, what made the sudden change but you never looked back.

this friends with benefits thing went on for eight months, filling in some void that you both were missing. it was great, really great. you had each other whenever you wanted. whatever how long you wanted. nobody knew about it as far as you know. you were careful, even when the need was necessary at strange times or at places other than both your beds. there was one time that harry flew you out to italy for a weekend for nothing but that (and you as a plus one at gucci) it was a weekend that neither of you would admit, still gave you both chills looking back. all around your arrangement worked, it wasn’t a disaster like some of the stories or movies told. it was perfect in every way.

until now. where you both were going through the longest drought to date and feelings were involved.

for harry, the night that you admitted how you felt for him after all this time. it wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same as you, he just wasn’t sure that he did. he needed you more than he realized, more then he wanted to believe. for a while now. he has been denying the change for so long that when he was faced with the reciprocation, he froze and put his guard up. but in all reality, he has been in love with you since the beginning of time.

you were his girl, his person. you knew him in and out, you didn’t care about his status or money. you treated him as harry. your best friend. his number one cheerleader. the hug he needed after a rough day. the laugh he wanted hear before he closed his eyes and when he woke up. the child like heart of yours as you sat in the cart, sneaking candy in the cashier line. the dance partner he needed in the early morning in the middle of the kitchen. his plus one that he was excited to have on red carpet with his arm around. the lips he wanted to kiss, all the time and not just in the moment. so soft and sweet against his. he wanted, needed everything before and after the arrangement. he needed you and he should’ve told you before letting you leave.

in a rush, harry threw his gray duvet off his shirtless himself, sitting up and standing out of his bed. not caring about his hair or the sleep deprivation evident on his face. he threw on his black hoodie, searching for his cream vans and heading down the hall to grab his keys to his Mercedes and out to the driveway he went. on his way to you.

——————————————————————————

not finding the ability to sleep. you were laying on your couch, lights off with only the blue light reflection off the tv screen while aimlessly watching a movie you didn’t catch the title to. this was becoming a ritual for the last few nights. awake past your usual time, feeling it hit hard in the morning. drinking the sleep you missed prior in a paper cup. overwhelmed with the same thoughts from morning to night. you huffed, having enough of it. hastily flicking off the tv by the remote before turning over on the couch, clutching the yellow throw to yourself and closing your eyes tight.

after no calls or texts, a clear indication that it was over. you were feeling like a fool on how much you allowed this to get to you. you shouldn’t be feeling this sad. you finally got your answer. you shouldn’t be missing him. you should be pissed off. mad. you should be going out with your friends and trying to find someone to forget the dreadful blissful months you endured. but you’re not. because you miss him. because you love him. everything little thing about him and he doesn’t feel the same. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life. so confused by everything.

none of it made sense. his response beat the shit out of you. you werent expecting him to love you back but at the same time, you knew there had to be something there. the way things were even when you weren’t tangled up in each other limbs, fucking like rabbits. harry gave you so much confidence that he was feeling the same way about you like you did for him. holding your hand in public, kissing in the most exposed places, never denying that you weren’t his girl when asked at events. instead, his grip on your waist would tighten. he would smile at you, kissing the top of your head. making sure you were okay at all times, keeping his focus on you no matter the situation. when you were alone, he would declare you as his all the time. every fiber of your skin he touched “all mine.” he would say, so low to hear but for your ears only. you wanted it all back. even if it was all for fun and games.

hypothetically kicking yourself for being so brave. for placing your heart on your sleeve for it only to be held by cheap thread. for wanting it back, for wanting to continue the charades because it’s better than nothing at all. you didn’t deserve that. you needed better. someone willing to give you that in reality and not only behind closed doors. someone who is lucky to have you at all times and not when its for a fixing.

you sighed to yourself, rolling back over to glance at your phone on the coffee table. bright in the darkened room, squinting to see, it read now quarter to 4am and you rolled your eyes. done with the fiddle faddle with your thoughts, you needed sleep and you were over allowing this situation to consume you further. rising from the couch, you wrapped the throw over your shoulders to protect you from the chill from here to your bedroom. looking around to make sure all was good before continuing on.

approaching the foyer of where your staircase and living room entrance met. you were startled by hard, repetitive knocks to your front door. you froze where you stood. who could be here at this hour? You thought to yourself. you quietly reached for a vase on a nearby table. creeping closer to the door.

the knock happened again before stopping once more. “love, y/n.” you heard the raspy, tired voice from the other side of the door. it was Harry. “it’me, please open up.”

you bit your lip, rolling your eyes. fuck, you muttered to yourself before placing the vase back down. unlocking the door and flinging it open gently. there he stood in front of you. in your favorite attire, all casual in just a hoodie and joggers that hugged his bottom half just right. his chestnut hair, a mess and disheveled, golden at the top from the porch light above him. scruff peppered around his mouth and along his jaw. his green eyes like daggers on you as he watched you search him, using the time to figure to say hey right. the stare made you feel a bit beside yourself, pulling the throw closer to yourself and over your flimsy pink cami paired with gray sweats. you cleared your throat, looking at the street and breaking the silent stare.

“I hope your not here to get something from me.” you stated, then. looking anywhere but at him like you wanted. taking everything you to keep yourself together as you placed between wanting to yell at him and tell him to never see you again and wanting to pull him in to make up for the lost time. “ha, no.” harry shook his head at your comment. raising his hand to his hair, raking his fingers through it, nervously. “I came m’ere to talk.” he said, “if that’s alright?”

you both stood there for a moment before opening the door further slowly. giving him room to come right in. his cologne of vanilla and sandalwood hitting the brim of your nose the second he slipped by you. something you missed, being caught up in it. you pressed your back against the door, hearing it shut behind yourself as you followed after harry to the living room where he made himself at home. he stood poised next to your gray linen couch, waiting to see you approach the room before he took a seat on it. patting the spot next to him. overwhelmed by the time, by his presence and all the emotions bouncing around like a pin ball machine in your mind and body. you treading carefully around your coffee table, joining him shortly after and becoming leveled with his green orbs.

it was quiet for the first few minutes, and not the comfortable kind that you’d fall into from time to time. watching Harry’s rosy plump lips open and close, seeing his hand rise to them, his index and thumb pinching his bottom lip, struggling with what to say first. tongue tied by the fact that you let him in in the first place. he wasn’t prepared to not be given a fight. he sighed, roughly. “I’ve missed you so much.” he began, taking you by surprise and lacing his fingers with yours.

you shook your head, leaving his grasp before standing up from the couch. “please don’t lie to me, harry.” stopping whatever his plan was firsthand. “I’m not falling into this.. trap. I told you how I felt and that’s that. don’t take it for granted.” harry stood up to meet you, wanting to get closer, pull you closer to him but he left the space for you.

“M’not lying. I missed you.” going on, “I came ‘ere to talk. to tell ya I’m sorry. that I regret the moment that ya walked out the door.” he finished, his eyes never leaving yours for a second as he spoke. you furrowed your brows, the confusion rising again. “why are you sorry? you don’t feel the same and I just have to deal with that. that’s nothing to be–” harry grew closer at the last bit of your speech. cutting in. “but it wasn’t the truth. I do feel the same and I let you leave thinking I didn’t. that’s what I’m sorry about.”

you were stuck. shocked to say the least. you couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth, but your inner self wasn’t going to let it sink in so easily. “please don’t do this. harry, if you lying to me. I will never forgive you. so please stop.” feeling your eyes becoming glassy as tears threatened the rim. harry shook his head, his hands meeting at the top of your shoulders as he looked you in the eyes. “I won’t stop because I’m not lying.” feeling his hands running down your arms, slow to stop and grab your hands in his. “I love you, y/n. I fucking love you.” you looked up at him at rise in volume at his last words. his eyes searching your face and yours doing just the same. trying to find any flake that this wasn’t real, that what he just said was only in your mind and wasn’t just said into the air. you bit at your now quivering bottom lip, trying to keep yourself together.

“if you’re messing with me, H. I swear to god” needing another reassurance, harry flashed his cheeky infamous smile at the use of his nickname from you. feeling normalcy, before his large, soft hands left yours to scoop your face. tilting it up to his. “I mean it. with everything I have, all I own. I mean it.” he said, “I love you, I always have and will.” his words silver off his lips. you couldn’t explain the feeling that rouse in you but you felt tears, happy ones, beginning to make way down your cheeks. “I love you too.” you muttered softly to harry, him still smiling toothlessly now as his thumbs collected the droplets. before leaning down and capturing your lips with his.

the moment they met, your body responded immediately. rising in heat from head to toe. melting into harry as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. one hand still caressing your cheek, while the other dug tightly at your waist. the long days of not being wrapped up, sharing sweet pecks or laughs amongst one another was felt right now. the kiss starting out so sweet and tender, feeling the smiles and hearts combust in happiness. soon were taken over by neediness, lust and desire from the lost time. his tongue running along your bottom lip, asking for entry to deepen the kiss. never feeling something so powerful shared between the two of you. never pulling away long enough to catch breath, harry directed you both towards the couch. his hands clasping are your bum, silently telling you to jump into his arms before settling you both down with him beneath you, straddling his lap.

you let out a breathy moan when his lips met the spot connecting your jaw and neck. peppering kisses along your jawline as your fingers got lost in his thick curls. feeling him smiling against you with every little sound only he could get out of you, marking what belonged to him. he pulled away slightly, having you chase his lips and cheeks and leaving him in a fit of chuckles. understanding the neediness you were trying to release, you could feel his against the inside of your thigh. he placed his hands back on your face, pulling you down to kiss you again, before backing away once more and resting his forehead to yours. “do you want to go upstairs?” you asked, softly. hands flattening at the fabric on his broad chest, straightening his shirt. meeting his gaze, harry smiled slightly, cupping your cheek and bringing your lips to his again. “I’d love to.” his warm, minty breath grazing your mouth. you smiled, then. before rising off of harry. your feet touching the chill of hardwood floor, standing between his legs before reaching out for him to grab a hold of your hand. allowing you to direct him, hand in hand, up the stairs and to your bedroom.

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

the moment harry and you entered the bedroom. he beaconed you to the bed, immediately bringing you down with him. leaving where you left off moments ago, on harry’s lap, hands in his hair. his green eyes, darkened in lust, smirking up at you before his lips met yours in a slow, sweet embrace.

“I want to take my time with you tonight.” he spoke, breathlessly. Looking up at you, pecking your nose. running his thumbs under eyes, noticing the lack of sleep evident likewise, then along your cheeks and to your bottom lip. “Are you up for that, love?” He asked, like the gentleman he is. “Hm?” eyes on you, going in and kissing your collarbone. leaving you to bite back a cross between a whimper and giggle, “please.” you cried.

”good.” he muttered, softly. smirking and placing both of his hands on you bum, squeezing light before rolling you over so quickly you couldn't register what was happening until you were lying flat on your back, him hovering you now and his teeth were nipping at you ear. you squealed and wiggled beneath his heavy, toned body, and his mouth left kisses on your neck, your collar bone, back to your lips again. one of his tattooed arms, rested next your head, steadying himself while the other roamed your body. savoring any exposed skin of yours on his fingertips. your body following the feeling of his hands as they ran along it, up and down your waist, to your hip. moaning lightly into one of the grazes of your lips, harry's own curling up at the sides.

with his hands clasping your waist and under your shirt. you began to feel the fabric rise up. harry broke his lips away from your neck, rolling the shirt up and over your head. throwing it to the floor. the chill of the room now hitting your topless body, your nipples hardening more to the new adjustment. your hands falling into harry’s hair again as he lowered himself along your body. kissing the skin over your breasts. looking up at you, watching you. harry took one of your harden nipples into his mouth, the other between his fingers of his hand. tracing X's and O's over and around. him kissing, licking, sucking, biting at every bit of your bare skin. earning him moans and whimpers from you, continuing to watch you lose yourself. feeling privileged to see this sight of you, only him. only he could get this arouse out of you. your head rested on the pillow, a whimpering mess from only his mouth. giving him all the rights to ravage your body.

the anticipation was getting the best of you. you wanted him now, you were already over with his toying around. “harry, please.” you whimpered, “p-please do something.” harry looked up, smirking at you, devilishly before he climbed back up. your legs wrapped around his middle, pushing him closer to you. “eager aren’t we?” he retorted. you smiled into a moan when you felt his erected shaft underneath his joggers, graze your throbbing clit, covered in your drenched panties. you weren’t the only one.

harry tilted your face up towards his, pecking your lips sweetly and pulling away only centimetres. “stay patient, love.” he muttered, then. before going back down your body again. trickling kisses above the waistband of your sweats. feeling his long, slender fingers slid under the band, pulling the pants down agonizingly slow before he was faced with your panties now.

he groaned at the sight of the wet spot on them, causing you to gasp when he ran three fingers over your clothed heat. “you’re so wet.” he swallowed, meeting his green eyes with yours, darkened and glazed over in lust and desire. “and its all for me.” not wasting another second before pulling the fabric down off you and you hissing at the sharp chill grace your cunt.

harry continued to tease, starting from your knee and aligning kisses on your inner thighs. feeling his breath graze where you wanted his mouth the most. you bucked your hips once at him, immediately his hands meeting them “ah ah.” he spoke, you looked down at him, him raising a brow and his green eyes flashing up at you. silently telling you to “be patient.” again. leaving you irritated as your head forcefully met the pillow. but the little tantrum working in your favor when you felt his lips kiss your mound, following a stride of his tongue against your swollen clit. like an electric shock to your body. he worked you slow and hard, careful, taking his time like this was going to be the last. building you up to the top, then slowing down to do it all over again. your hands wrapped up in his curls, bringing him as close as you could. directing him where you wanted him as you rotated your hips until he had enough, holding your lower half down, your legs on his shoulders and your hands in his. as he devoured you like a delicacy. and having you come on his tongue. twice.

once he was done tasting you, so fucked out and spaced, you hadn’t noticed him standing at the end of your bed. undressing himself until he was left in his briefs, crawling back over you, his legs parting yours at the knees as his large hand cupped your cheek, bringing your lips to his. nudging his nose with yours, he pecked your cheek, “are you still with me, love?” he asked, noticing how you were still trying to get to your whereabouts. harry’s fingers of his other hand were drawing little circles to your hip, to the top of your heat. you nodded slow, giving him the go to continue further when you felt his finger slip through your soaked folds, before entering you. you moaned at the feeling, harry now resting his forehead to yours as his fingers moved in and out of you at a generous pace. one of your hands, met harry’s face gently. while your free one went searching passed his tented briefs, before embracing his hard, thicken shaft in your hand. causing harry’s breath to hitch at the contact. collecting the pre-cum at the top of his swollen tip, lubing him up and running your hand tightly around his cock, stroking him. his free hand holding your face close to his, both swallowing each other’s moans in between heated kisses as you got each other off.

harry could feel you tightening around his fingers, growing closer to the edge. he pulled his fingers away from you and backed away from your touch. you shuttered in surprise, pouting from the loss of contact. looking up at him, searching for an explanation for only to be left watering in your mouth from the view of harry the two fingers that were occupied and covered by your juices, into his mouth. tasting you. in a need, you leaned up to meet harry halfway, pulling him into another countless kiss. your hand travelling to his shaft that was resting stiff against his abdomen when his hand met it mid stream, tangling his fingers with yours.

“no love, I need you now.” he commanded, gently pushing you back down. laying on top of you, feeling his cock resting against you. the same hand still wrapped in yours, now next to your head. while the other placed your thigh around him, before wrapping his hand around his shaft, positioning himself perfectly aligned with your cunt. feeling the tip. his head falling into the nook of your neck, his curls tickling your skin, lips warm against your neck and shoulder as he slipped into you, slow.

you gasped at him expanding your walls, being cautious, taking his time as he waited for you adjust to him. muttering sweet nothings, kissing you all over the place before he heard the green light from you. starting a nice rhythm, pulling almost all the way out and thrusting right back in. his hands all over you, his mouth connected to any bit of your skin that he could taste. his moans and grunts grazing hot at your ear were enough to have you orgasm right then and there for him. but any moment that you felt like you were growing closer, harry would slow down. lazily pounding into you, muttering affirmations. “you’re so beautiful.” to “you feel so good, love.”

your new favorite though almost was barely audible when he began to pick up the pace, colliding with the friction of your skin meeting. kissing you deeply, “I love you.” he said, softly but sincere. your eyes opening from focusing on the repetition to his words, “say it again.” you said looking at him with half lidded eyes, your glistening skin in a sheen of sweat. harry smirked big before you watched his mouth almost ‘o’

“I love you, y/n.” he said again. leaving you to moan at the sound of it, leaning up slightly, chasing his lips with yours. “I love you too” you spoke against his mouth, wrapping your hands around his back. soon beginning to dig when you felt yourself growing close.

harry began to feel you clenching around him. “are you close, baby?” he muttered. immursed in the how beautifully your bodies moved today, like they were made for this. you met his gaze again, “y-yes” you stuttered in between a moan, he then peck your lips, grabbing your hands like daggers from his back into his large hands, setting them above your head. beginning to speed up, driving to home base. thrusting into you erratically, both your breathy moans and sounds echoing against the walls of the room. his head falling to meet his mouth to your ear, “come with me, come with me, come with me” he repeated.

and before you could even think of attempting to hold back. without a warning, you cried out in absolute pleasure as your orgasm ripples through you. your back arching, collecting every bit. harry’s hands clasping to meet your middle as he senselessly pounded into you when his hips snapped back, meeting his own euphoria and he released warm and heavy into you. collapsing limply onto your body, his weight heavy and him completely exhausted, but in a unrelaxed, happy state. in a haze from what just took place seconds ago.

you both lied there, motionless. breathless with a dry throat, panting and clammy. you lazily ran your fingers through harry’s hair where his head lied, resting on your chest between your breasts. he slowly looked up at you. his green eyes soft now, his smile, toothlessly and dreamy that you felt butterflies sworm. “you alright, love?” he whispered, you smiled, nodding to answer. your hand, caressing his milky, glistening cheek. leaving you in a fit of giggles, when he turned his mouth in the direction of your palm. kissing it before lazily climbing up you and placing his hands on your cheeks. just staring at each other for a moment, gazing, taking each other in before he smile, kissing your cheek and bringing his attention back to you.

“did I tell you that I love you?” he smiled, feeling heat rise to your cheek. biting your lip, you shrugged. “Mmm, maybe once or twice?” you said, then. wrapping your arms around his neck. harry flashed a bright smile, leaning closer to your lips with his. “well i’ve got all night to tell you more.” he said, before crashing his lips on yours.

#Harry Styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #slutforbritdick

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sleepylixie · 3 years

Text

Only Fools Rush In

Crown Prince! Jeongin X fem! Reader

Fantasy AU, Loose retelling of Sleeping Beauty.

7k words, Platonic pairing, Beware of non-graphic mentions of death( only mentions, with respect to curses and dark magical behaviour ), slight violence in fight scenes (not explicit at all), NO mentions of blood.

Songs: Can’t Help Falling in Love(DARK) - Tommee Profitt // Tomorrow We Fight - Tommee Profitt ft. Svrcina

|| Prologue ||

A/N: @magicbehindwords hello, Carolyn! Tis me, your Secret Santa!! Man, you have the chillest vibes, I really enjoyed figuring out this fic for you! I had something entirely different planned, but you saying you enjoyed a good high fantasy read ended with me happily derailing and plunging into the Fantasy Woods instead xD I hope you enjoy this offering(I know it’s really late hhh I’m vv sorry T^T)

There will be one more fic joining my pair of Christmas gift fics! As a part of @hanflix With Love, Chistmas holiday collab, I will be posting a Jisung fic soon! Anyways, onto the fic!! Do let me know what you think, my ask box is open! ~

Drop me an Ask! || Masterlist

It’s been very rare to have known you, very strange and wonderful. - F. Scott Fitzgerald

1-JEONGIN

“.....Crown Princess of the Western Isles.”

An elegantly dressed young lady stood before Jeongin, her hair falling over her shoulders as she sank into a neat curtsy. He cursed himself for not catching her name during her herald. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Highness,” her voice was a smooth serenade, the words rising and falling in an unfamiliar accent . Her eyes didn’t flit away from his gaze or widen in flirtation, but maintained a steady gaze akin to his own. Jeongin’s brow arched slightly- she was brazen, playfully so.

“The pleasure is all mine, my lady.” He bowed back slightly, suppressing a sigh at the repeated action he was forced to perform. He had been meeting the multitude of ladies Ataloria had to offer for what felt like time immemorial. It was the same old thing, over and over again- bow, exchange pleasantries, have them whisked away by the herald before speaking about anything of consequence. The hall was abuzz with quiet laughter and chatter, the excitement palpable for the biggest celebration the kingdom had seen in centuries- The Rose Gala.

Ataloria was a kingdom ruled by women ever since it’s conception- queens of enormous power, wealth and cunning who turned the once tiny valley town into the biggest empire of its confederation. While a queen could rule Ataloria solo, a royal son would require a woman in wedlock to rule with him, cementing his place on the throne for him. To make sure their kingdom’s prince found a suitable wife before his coronation, the tradition of The Rose Gala was born.

In the son’s 18th year, a celebration would be held in Ataloria inviting ladies from every corner of the kingdom to the Rose Palace(his home) for a chance at the Crown Prince’s hand. Such was the fairness of the bygone queens- they believed that nobility was a reflection of character, not blood.

“May I have this dance, Your Highness?” Jeongin met the princess’ eyes, surprised- none of the previous ladies he’d met had yet to ask him for a dance, but here was this princess, her twinkling eyes matching her smile as she held her gloved hand out. A smile pulled up the side of his lips as he accepted her hand, leading her into the centre of the dance floor. She was bold, playfully so- he liked it.

The band picked up a soulful waltz piece as Jeongin swept the princess into his arms, the two of them melting naturally against each other as they began to move. She was well- trained, Jeongin noted, because she moved with fluid ease, balancing her movements with his despite this being their first dance together.

“How has the Gala been so far, Your Highness?” Her accent was less pronounced than it was before, but Jeonign shrugged it off. It was likely because he was getting accustomed to it. “It has been quite an interesting affair, my lady. I hope the preparations for your arrival and living have been up to your standards.”

“You live in a beautiful city, Your Highness” she giggled lightly as Jeongin twirled her out and back into his arms, unfaltering in their motions. “Yes, the capital of Ataloria has lived up to the many expectations that us outlanders had of it… But I wonder, Are you always this formal?” He allowed a smile of his own to creep up his face- her stubbornly casual behaviour intrigued him more than he’d like to admit. “If you insist on thinking me formal, I must insist that you address me by my chosen name and not by my title… your name, my lady?”

An amused grin lit up the princess’ face, her hand tightening almost infinitesimally on his shoulder as the music crescendoed to a high.

“Y/N, Your Highness. My name is Y/N.”

2-JEONGIN

The moon was creeping higher in the sky when Jeongin slipped into the highest tower in the north wing. It had been a struggle to slip away from The Rose Gala, a faked headache finally allowing him to rush back to his chambers and gather up his belongings so he could sneak his way to the North Tower.

His previous princely outfit had been exchanged to lighter, more rugged garments of the darkest black, embroidered with threads of silver. A snicker bubbled to his lips at the thought of the ladies in the Rose Hall, of how they’d react if they saw their sweet yet aloof prince like this- scratching a pentagram onto the stone floor with an air of familiarity he hadn’t exhibited to them.

Spellcasting had been a guilty passion for Jeongin ever since he sat in on his mother’s meeting with the silver-eyed spellcaster coven that resided just outside Ataloria’s borders, thoroughly intrigued by how they wove enchantment into words and items like it was second nature. He was forbidden from interacting with them, however. His mother told him that some knowledge was beyond the ears of an ordinary mortal and such boundaries must be respected without error.

However, curiosity had driven him to swipe a few books from the coven elders, fascinated by all the information that lay between the covers. It became a habit to steal some of the spellcasters’ books during their visits, replicate them as soon as possible and return them to their original resting place in the coven’s temporary living chambers.

Over time and innumerable incidents of trial and error, he learnt to wield the energy that thrummed in the world around him. Starting from simple levitation, he worked his way through more and more complex spells as his capabilities expanded. Not a single soul knew about the prince’s penchant for spellcasting- it was a secret he guarded fiercely, for fear that he would be frowned upon and misunderstood for communing with dark spirits.

Sitting back on his haunches, Jeongin admired his handiwork- purple candles decorating the cardinal directions on the pentagram, the flames flickering a warm yellow. 5 crystals lay in a circle in the center of the pentagram, all identical in shape but unique in shade. Sigils of protection, enhancement and power decorated the edges and also littered the floor in a circle around him.

Since most of his arcane knowledge came more from reading than practicing, he’d spent months in this very tower room, mouthing the incantations until he was fluent in the foreign language and practicing drawing the sigils until he could draw them in his sleep. There was too much at stake with this spell to get something wrong- the safety of Ataloria, to be specific.

Saying the first words of the incantation out loud stirred something wild in his veins, instantly feeling every wave of energy throbbing around him. It was darker, stronger, almost turbulent in nature, unlike the freely flowing, easily shaped energy he’d always encountered before. But he would endure, because this spell was not a question of just his capabilities, but also the country he’d one day rule.

This Winter Solstice night, he would cast the biggest spell of his short life as a spellcaster.

This Winter Solstice night, he would cast a warding spell around the Atalorian borders.

If everything went perfectly, the warding spell would need no renewal- it would transcend the life of the caster and instead be latched to the power of the kingdom’s crown.

Shivers of cold anticipation slid over his body as the energy began to swirl around the pentagram, his focus honed to a razor sharp edge as his words began to bend it to his will. It was time.

3-JEONGIN

Jeongin knew that something was wrong the second he stepped out of the tower. The Rose Gala wasn’t the quietest affair; the muted sounds of string instruments and chatter had rung through the walls until he cast a sound-dampening spell around the North Tower. Now, despite lifting the spell and stepping out… an eerie silence hung in the air, heavy and stifling. There was none of the merry-making that he’d heard before.

Keeping to the shadows, he crept down the corridor towards the main staircase and stopped short. The guards posted near the sliding doors of the north wing were fast asleep, leaning against the wall and slumped onto the floor. A shiver slithered down Jeongin’s spine. This wasn’t normal. The guards in the palace were nowhere close to lax in security, especially during nights of revelry.

Catching hold of one guard’s shoulder, he shook him hard, hoping that the jostling would wake him up. But he only crumpled to the floor, completely unaware of the world. Almost like he was….no, He couldn’t be. Jeongin fell to his knees before the man, scrabbling for a pulse at the man’s wrist- no, he was alive. Very much so. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he got to his feet, warily scanning the top of the main staircase on the other side of the sliding doors. The silence was almost deafening as he made his way towards the staircase, looking down at the main lobby of the castle-

Everybody was asleep.

It was almost like a wave of sleep had taken over every guard, guest and staff in the palace, rendering them silent and slumped on the floor the second they encountered it. A maid was leant against a pillar, a tray of champagne lying toppled next to her. A herald lay on the floor, curled up next to the skirts of a slumbering lady in red silk.

Stumbling away from the bannister, he collapsed on the top stair, a rush of panic overwhelming him- was he at fault for this? Surely he wasn’t… But what if he was? What had he done wrong? Was the timing off? How was he to fix this?? What was he going to do-

That was when he heard it.

Cutting through the thick silence was a husky, haunting melody, singing words that tore through his mind, bringing back faded childhood memories. He remembered being afraid first, finding solace next in the voice and its wistful song. As he grew up, his slumber came faster and deeper, rendering him unable to listen to the walls’ song. But he didn’t forget the words. He never did.

However, the voice didn’t echo from the walls the way he remembered- this time, it was coming from the very hall The Rose Gala was held in.

“Wise men say only fools rush in...

But I can’t help falling in love with you…”

The voice continued singing the same lines as Jeongin hurried down the staircase and towards the hall, the open doors spilling the chandeliers’ lights into the modestly candle lit corridor. The marble floor of the hall was laden with ladies’ skirts and gentlemen’s capes and cloaks, every single person including his dear parents and family fast asleep- except for one.

Y/N.

Jeongin watched as she sang to herself, her arms held out almost as if she was… she was waltzing with somebody. There was something so haunting about the sight to Jeongin- maybe it was the song that spilled so easily from her lips or the way she danced with nobody but the air to accompany her. Her skirts clutched in one hand, she swept back and forth in front of one of the windows, the only person awake amongst a sea of sleeping people.

“Wise men say only fools rush in...

But I can’t help falling in love with you…”

“You can come in, Your Highness.” her voice lacked the Isle accent he heard before-if anything, she had the exact same accent as his own. “This is, after all, your palace.”

So much for staying hidden. Jeongin cautiously stepped into the hall, eyes narrow as he marked her every movement. But she was calm as she dropped her arms to her sides, turning to face him from across the hall, her smile the exact same as before- brazen, confident, playful.

“Do you have something to do with this, Y/N?” He demanded, his voice quivering with the pent-up panic he was struggling to control. “Oh no, Your Highness,” Y/N responded, beginning to pick her way across the sleeping people towards him. “That’s the question I must ask you. What did you do to my home?”

Jeongin instantly stiffened, one hand going to his belt for his dagger and the other, encompassed in ice-cold hoarfrost. There was no point in hiding his powers, especially if he was alone with…. Whoever she was. To his shock, her eyes lit up in joyous surprise. “Oh, I see you’ve learnt to conjure the elements. You’ve come far in your spellcasting studies, Your Highness.”

“Greetings, Your Highness. I am Y/N, the guardian of the Rose Palace.”

“Oh, this sweet girl?” she raised her arm before brushing back her intricately curled hair with an uncaring flick of her hand. “ Her name is Yelina. She asked me to… assist her in courting you. I assure you, Your Highness, I’m not from the Western Isles nor do I have the need to spy on you.”

“Assist? Yelin- What are you going on about?” Jeongin’s temper finally reached a fever pitch, his voice raising in frustration. “I expect a straight answer from you, whatever your name is. Who are you, and do you have anything to do with this?”

The young lady in front of him dipped into a bow- it wasn’t the neat curtsy he’d seen at the beginning of the night. This was a deep, sweeping bow, almost mocking in nature as she nearly knelt to the floor and rose in one fluid motion.

Her eyes were silver when they met his, a stark contrast from the dark eyes that had peered out of her face before. “And you, young prince, have just caused trouble you might not be able to mend.”

“How do you know that, Y/N?” Jeongin’s voice was as cold as the ice wreathing his fingers, his jaw tightening as he struggled to keep his rising anger in check. “Do the Western Isles dare to spy on its future monarch?”

Just as Jeongin began to advance toward her, his eyes blazing with fury at her twisted answers, a velvet soft laugh from the doors cut through his haze of anger. He caught the way Y/N’s face paled, her demeanour stiffening as she caught sight of who stood behind him. Whirling around, he saw a man walk into the hall, his plump lips pulled back in a satisfied smirk.

“How very quaint of you, guardian.”

His voice was dark, almost sensual in it’s smoothness, a terrible age ringing in every syllable. His hair was a deep purple, drizzled with streaks of white that hung inelegantly over his eyes. A dark cloak fastened at one shoulder fluttered around his feet as he moved further into the hall. There was something wrong with this man, Jeongin realized as his grip tightened on his dagger. The energy in the room had taken a nosedive with his arrival, leaving him with barely a few strands to hold onto.

“Nobody nor the stars give a damn about your opinion, Chris.”

Jeongin started at Y/N’s cold voice ringing from next to him, her eyes narrowed in derision as she stared down the purple-haired man. However, the man wasn’t fazed in the least, his smile only widening in response. “Is that any way to talk to your elder, young one?”

That was when Jeongin noticed the flash of quicksilver in Chris’ eyes- identical to Y/N’s.

Spellcasters.

4- Y/N

“You’re no more my elder than that band of heathens you used to lead.” you spit, stepping in front of Jeongin. You could sense his surprise as he watched your form change- hair turning white, your forehead wreathed with icy blue flames. It probably must be quite overwhelming for him, but you couldn’t spare that much throught- Chris was not to touch a single strand of his hair, stars be damned.

“You’re not welcome here, Chris. Begone.”

“When has that ever stopped me, little one?” Chris’ silver eyes narrowed in a sardonic smile- only, it wasn’t a smile but a soulless show of teeth. “Besides,the intention of my visit was only to extend a hand of gratitude to the crown prince behind you.”

To his credit, Jeongin didn’t so much as flinch, matching Chris’s stare for icy stare. “From the guardian’s stance, I presume your hand of gratitude isn’t one to clamour for.” A rueful smile dragged your lips upward; Jeongin had never been the type to mince his words.

“I must insist, Your Majesty,” Chris’ very stance glittered with the stench of malice, your magic tingling unpleasantly around you. “Or must I call you Jeongin, for you will not remain a royal much longer?”

“I’ll stop you right there.” You growled, fists clenching as blue flames sparked alive in your hands again. “Do not speak of the crown prince that way.”

“Or what, little one?” Chris laughed aloud. “Will your sweet crown prince run his country to doom yet again?”

“W-What-” Jeongin spluttered behind you, confused and bewildered. Chris cut through his stammered sentence, his words carrying over Jeongin’s. “Your spell backfired, princeling. Instead of protecting your kingdom, you sent them all to the one place where they’d never be harmed- their sleep. If only you knew the nuances of spellcasting. Stolen knowledge can only do so much, you know. I allowed you to steal the books, foolish mortal boy. Did you really think you were sneaky enough to swipe from spellcasters??” Chris snarled mockingly at you and Jeongin. You could sense the terror rippling off your prince; taste it like copper on your tongue.

“ Your kingdom will fall to death soon, all because you couldn’t keep your sticky mortal hands to yourself and mess with power you don’t deserve to know, princeling. All of this,” he exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide in sinful exultation, “Will belong to the heathens Y/N spoke about-” And a spear of fire threw him off his feet, sending him flying and crumpling against the far wall.

Stalking towards his prone figure, you pulled him up and slammed him against the wall, your hands clutching his cloak. A line of blue blood trickled down from his hairline to your sick satisfaction, his lips pulled back in a pained snarl. A snake of your flames bound his arms together as you stared him down, silver for silver.

“This kingdom has never been yours, neither will it ever be.” Your voice was soft, icy, pointed. “It belongs to Ataloria now and stars be damned if I don’t make sure it stays that way.”

“You’re a traitor to your own kind, Y/N.” Chris spat in your face, struggling against the flames around his wrists. “Do what you wish to stop this. You and I both know this curse will be fulfilled by that foolish mortal you protect. You’ll get your comeuppance when your princeling’s folly renders this kingdom obsolete,little one. That’s a promise.”

With those final jarring words, he disappeared in a plume of red smoke, leaving you alone with a shell-shocked Jeongin and Ataloria’s sleeping citizens.

5- Y/N

“The land that Ataloria stands on is home to a lot more history than you know, Your Highness.” You bustled into the basement kitchen with the prince at your heels. Jeongin slumped in a chair at the wooden table, his head hidden in his hands. You couldn’t recognize if it was fear, regret or anger, because the only thing you could sense from the prince was a mixture of emotions too complex to gauge.

The both of you had spent the last couple of hours placing temporary warding charms over the entirety of Ataloria- If your brother could break in, god knows what else could. It was no mean feat, especially for two spellcasters and a vast country. But Jeongin rose to the task, his brow furrowed with concentration as he burned perfectly drawn sigils onto the map and spoke incantations with a clear, soulless tongue. The sun rose as you worked on the warding charms- it was bordering early afternoon by the time you led him to the kitchen. It fascinated you how easily the craft came to him; it wasn’t natural for a mortal with no magic in his veins.

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N.” He sounded small, exhausted, shattered. The night must have been extremely overwhelming for him, you realized. The pressure of being responsible for an entire kingdom’s destruction must not be the easiest weight to carry. “If you’re guardian of this palace, then why didn’t you do something to stop me?” You could hear the blame, the self-loathing in every sentence, but you let him speak. “All these years, you watched me through the walls, sang me lullabies, but didn’t bother to stop me from digging myself a spellcaster grave.”

You gulped, pulling yourself together as you took a seat next to Jeongin. This was not going to be an easy story.

“Your Highness-”

“Call me Jeongin.”

“This story possibly holds the key to righting the wrongs of the night past. Do yourself the favour of listening, Jeongin.” A wave of his hand and straightened posture signalled you to speak, the only response you received.

“The entirety of the Southern Sphere was ruled by spellcasters, their power much greater than those of the spellcasters in your country. Then, this area was called Erus Nox. The spellcasters ruled with great pride and fairness- mortal and Spellcaster coexisting amongst each other with great peace. The capital was not too far from what you now call the Western Isles. Over the centuries, corruption began to take root as it did in any great empire. Many spellcasters did not believe that mortals deserved rights equal to their own, that mortals were the inferior race because of the magic their veins couldn’t hold.

“Soon enough, there were mortal killings in the bowels of the city.News reached my- the Spellcaster King and he ordered his cavalry to round up the perpetrators and have them publicly sentenced to the gallows for breaking the peace. That decision didn’t sit well with the spellcaster nobility, who were now driven to believe that the King.. our king favoured the mortals more than his own blood. Rumors were circulated that the royal family were weak beings, pandering to the whims of their mortal population...it wasn’t true. None of it was. But it spread like wildfire, and suddenly there were mass killings in the suburban areas and the noble circle every other day.”

“Wait, how do you know so much about this?” Jeongin asked you suspiciously, his eyes narrowed. “This clearly isn’t common information. Were you.. Were you one of the rebel forces?!”

“No, you impatient brat.” You bit out, your clenched fists creasing crescent shaped indents into your palms as Jeongin stopped short at your unfamiliar, condescending tone. “If you absolutely must know, I was the crown princess of Erus Nox. Don’t interrupt me, or I will freeze your mouth shut.” A glimmer of amusement flashed past Jeongin eyes at the barely-veiled threat, aware of how different you sounded from barely minutes ago. He nodded at you to continue, so you did.

“My father and I were particularly outspoken against the heathens ravaging the country. We did everything in our power to curb the nonsense, the fanaticism of the rabid spellcaster rebellion. Towards the final days of the… the era, my family and I rallied the mortals and sent them to the closest mortal-dominated towns in the country. By the time the last human group left, it was too late.

“The rebels broke down the wards and- and sent nearly my entire family to the darkness. My father and I fought until we were forcibly subdued. I was made to watch as my father breathed his last, strung up to the throne I was meant to inherit.”

“From his last dying breaths, my father cursed the entire kingdom to fall apart the second he passed. He cursed the land to only cater to a mortal queen when the right lady stepped up, and continue to have only queens in power- may the masses be ruled by the very race they considered inferior. But before he could complete his incantation, he passed into the darkness.”

“Because of the holes his incomplete incantation left behind, the rebel forces brought in Chris to lighten the weight of the curse.- my trusted advisor and confidant,” You shook your head bitterly, the betrayal still ice in your spine. “He was my trusted advisor and confidant, a spellcaster inferior in power only to my family.

“He had no choice but to let the mortal queens part run its course- but he wrote into existence that one day, a mortal prince with a penchant for spellcasting would be born. When he came of age, he would prick himself on the sharp edge that is the art of spellcasting and bring down disaster upon the kingdom as he knows it. At which point, the crown-less kingdom would be ripe for the spellcasters’ picking, heralding the royal son’s folly as a reason for the mortals’ inability to rule- Erus Nox would be restored in all it’s bloody glory for these savage, power-drunk hordes.”

“As for me, well,” You let out a bitter laugh. “Chris had other plans for me. He had resented being my subordinate all along, and took the opportunity to even out his petty grudge. He bound my soul to the castle that was meant to become my home after my coronation, forcing me to watch Erus Nox’s destruction from what was meant to be my chosen headquarters.”

You sighed as you struggled to keep your voice steady, bluntly ignoring the glance of pity that Jeongin sent to you. “He magically sewed my lips shut, forbade me from speaking about the curse and the crusade to anybody, destroying most of my magic reserve and reducing me to.. Well, Guardian of the Rose Palace. But it seems,” you grinned wickedly, your demeanour switching instantly from forlorn to...wild and wicked. “Chris has always had a chronic problem of underestimating me, despite having to trail after my skirts for decades on end. He weakened his curse on me in the heat of the moment back in the hall, when he told me to do what I wish to stop him.” Jeongin’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping in surprise.

“S-So, you’re free?”

“Well,” you cocked your head in thought. “As free as I can be, without a body to inhabit. This young lady’s body is already quite tired out from the exertion I put her through…. But that’s besides the point.” Your eyes glittered in thinly veiled joy, tinged with malice. “This time, he’s truly going to get what’s coming for him.”

6- JEONGIN

“Chris left a glaring loophole in his incantation. It was a possibility he didn’t entertain, because it was a sheer impossibility in his eyes.” Jeongin listened closely as Y/N laid out the information she’d gathered over the years, and the conclusions she’d arrived at from it. The two of them were still sitting at the table where Y/N told him about the story of Erus Nox. His heart was heavy from the pain he felt from her words- being a prisoner in the same castle you were meant to rule from must have been the worst kind of pain to bear.

“..He did not consider the possibility of the mortal prince being alive to right the wrong he had committed.”

Jeongin gasped, sitting up straight in surprise. “That seems like a stupid possibility to overlook.”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Jeongin.” You chuckled. “It was quite by chance that I noticed the discrepancy, but yes. Chris’ curse will be obsolete if you undo the spell you wrongly cast.”

He shrugged, leaning back against the chair. “How do you propose we do that?”

Y/N’s fingertips pressed against each other, her elbows balanced on the table edge. “That warding spell you tried to cast- show me what you did. If we were to find out where you went wrong and undo it, Ataloria must likely be revived.”

Jeongin rubbed the back of his neck in thought, processing Y/N’s words. “How long will it take for you to find my errors?”

“Depends on how long the incantation is. ”

“Then what are we waiting for? You know where the North Tower is.”

“Stars above, Chris is a nasty hellhound for letting you swipe this book,” Y/N cursed, carefully taking the book from him and flipping it open. “This book contains incantations that even the most seasoned spellcasters of the current age can’t cast right.” Jeongin’s shoulders slumped as he took a seat on the floor next to her kneeling form.

Stepping carefully over the throngs of peacefully slumbering people, Jeongin led Y/N up to the North Tower. The room was as he’d left it- chalk smudges and bits of purple wax dotting the floor. Pulling open a dusty drawer, Jeongin picked out the book he’d taken the incantation from.

“I really should have kept my nose out of spellcasting. “He muttered softly, watching her turn the brittle browned pages carefully. “Would have saved the world a lot of trouble.”

“You’re such a self-absorbed little thing,” Y/N quipped, still absorbed in the pages of the spellbook. “This was your destiny, one that Chris wrote for you. You’d have come across spellcasting and fallen in love with its craft in one way or another. Besides, you’re in the presence of a master spellcaster- Oh, is it this one?” Y/N pointed at the page in front of her.

Jeongin nodded miserably. “Yes, that’s the one. This is the modification I came up with.” He pulled out a dog-eared, heavily scribbled piece of paper from between the book’s leaves, handing it to her.

“You’ve got some balls trying this incantation without any formal training, that too with modifications!!” Y/N exclaimed, scanning the pages of the incantation. “I’m surprised that an eternal sleep is all you caused after ruining it.If you had cast this right, it would have completely removed the possibility of a siege on Ataloria’s borders ever again.”

“I know. That was why I took the risk of casting it. It would have been ideal to protect the borders.”

“No, you don’t get it.” She spared him a glance laden with calculated curiosity, “This spell is extremely volatile, because of the number of variables it includes- even more so with your changes. It’s strong enough to ward away any mortal or spellcaster who isn’t welcome within its borders. This could decimate the spellcaster siege, if you recast it right. It’s… It’s genius. You’re better than I anticipated.”

“It was all for naught, I ruined it regardless,” Jeongin sighed. “If you’re that good of a spellcaster, can you undo and recast the spell instead?”

“I am still a spirit, so the doors to these kinds of spellcasting are closed to me.” You frowned. “It will take me a long time and power I am yet to find to cast a body for myself, so the fastest way to revive Ataloria would be for you to undo the spell with my guidance.”

An iceberg lodged itself into Jeongin’s heart at the thought of having to cast a spell again. He swallowed thickly, the fear turning his thoughts slow and sluggish. “I’m not sure that is a good idea. I’m clearly not meant to dabble in spellcasting, I’m but a mortal-”

“Does spellcasting make your blood sing, Jeongin?”

It only took Jeongin a split- second’s thought to answer her question. “Yes.”

“Then why must you be scared of failure?” Y/N’s eyebrow arched. “Even spellcasters make mistakes. That doesn’t stop us from pursuing the craft, does it? Also..you’re not alone now, Jeongin.” She placed a warm hand on his shoulder. “ This craft was never meant to be exclusive. I knew mortal spellcasters who bent energy to their will much better than many spellcasters by blood. You’re a natural at this. I believe in you.”

Jeongin’s face crumpled as a few tears escaped his eyes unbidden. The idea of pursuing spellcasting beyond a hidden passion sent a thrill through his body despite the havoc his previous attempt had caused. The possibility of failure, as daunting as it was, only pushed him to practice more, be better- He wiped the tears away. If not for himself, at least for the good of Ataloria...

“Are you certain that this spell could protect Ataloria from future harm?”

“Absolutely. I’m sure of it.” she sounded confident; Jeongin had no reason to distrust her.

“You truly believe that I can undo the spell ?”

Y/N stood up, the book in one hand as she held out the other for him to take. “I do. Are you up for the challenge, Your Highness?” She used the title like a teasing nickname, her eyes creasing into a smile as Jeongin took her hand, hauling himself to his feet.

“As much as I’ll ever be.”

7-JEONGIN

“Do you remember everything I told you?” Y/N leaned against the door of the North Tower, watching closely as Jeongin went through the same preparations as last night. The pentagram and sigils drawn, the crystals and candles laid out, Y/N’s paper of corrections and developments on the new spell clutched in Jeongin’s hand.

“Yes, I think so.” He huffed out a breath, the air fogging in front of him. The sun had set, giving way to the twilight darkness. This night was eerily similar to the night before- the sun was high in the sky, the stars against the cloudless sky. But tonight, his kingdom’s fate hung in the balance, because a group of magical elitists couldn’t admit defeat.

“Thank you, Y/N.” His gratitude clearly caught Y/N off-guard, judging from her widened eyes and parted lips. “Oh- I-”

His thoughts wandered to the people that lay deep in slumber around the castle and the kingdom- his people. Their fate and safety lay in his untrained novice spellcaster hands. Jeongin’s jaw tightened, his resolve strengthened. He would do everything right this time around, no matter what it took. For his people.

Before she could answer, a resounding boom ripped through the tower, shaking the floor under their feet. Amidst the pebbles and tiles falling from the ceiling, Jeongin saw Y/N hurry to the window in the tower wall, her expression shifting from confusion to fury.

“Chris realized his mistake.” The words sent a chill down Jeongin’s spine. The energy-sucking feeling he’d felt in Chris’ presence was one he did not wish to encounter again-

“I’ll hold him off,” Y/N’s brow and wrists blazed in the same icy blue fire he’d seen that morning, her silver eyes flashing dangerously. “No matter what, don’t step out of the room, do you understand?”

That was when Jeongin saw the silver line etched at the entrance of the door, a flare of silvery energy encompassing the entire room around him- A forcefield. Y/N stood on the other side, her voice loud yet muffled as another explosion rocked the foundations of the tower. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JEONGIN??”

The energy that picked up around him was as wild as he remembered, a hurricane almost throwing him off his feet from the time he uttered the first words. If anything, it was almost chaotic, the wind screaming in his ears as he struggled to keep the incantation running. It was almost like the energy did not wish to be undone, rebelling against his attempts to right the wrong.

“YES, YES I DO!” He yelled, lunging for the spellbook that had fallen to the floor. He had no time to spare, maybe if he worked the incantation fast enough no harm would befall Y/N or his people, there were his people in the castle, he couldn’t mess up-

He could hear the distant crackle of fire and the screech of metal outside the forcefield- Y/N was making good on her word. It would only be fitting if he did the same.

8- Y/N

You dodged another arrow of ice, a hiss slipping through your teeth as you pulled yourself to your feet. “Tired already little one?” Chris called out, his fists ablaze with red-tinted ice. His eyes blazed a bright silver, almost white as he advanced towards you.

“You wish, blood traitor,” You snarled back, tossing a wave of shadow energy at Chris, but he only danced out of range. “It seems to be so!” He cackled, another gust of energy pushing you backwards on the smooth marble.

The two of you stood at the entrance to the North Tower, right outside the forcefield you’d left around Jeongin. You could only hope that he was doing everything you told him to do. You gritted your teeth, rallying what was left of your magic. Yelina’s body was strong, but she wasn’t a spellcaster. The constant magic use was taking a toll on her while the stress of inhabiting a mortal body taking a toll on you. Your magic wasn’t made to inhabit a mortal body for too long-you could only hope that the two of you held out long enough to give Jeongin the time he needed…It was time for some old-fashioned trickery.

“You can’t get through the forcefield I put around him even if you get past me, Chris. It’s beyond your capabilities.” You grinned at the way Chris’ eyes narrowed. You’d hit the right nerve. “I know for a fact you’re too proud to bring any of your heathens with you,” you taunted further, revelling in his clenched fists. “Keep your nasty tongue to yourself, Y/N-”

“You were embarrassed by the loophole you left, weren’t you?” the mocking sweetness in your tone had a growl ripping out of Chris’ throat, an angry vine of energy flying towards you. You ducked, allowing it to break through the plaster and cement of the wall behind you, a raucous laugh bubbling up your throat. Keep him occupied, keep him occupied until Jeongin completes the incantation-

“You came here alone to fix it. You’re just as I remember, Courtesan,” you exclaimed, dancing out of the way of Chris’ attacks, until one flash of lightning caught you unawares, slamming you against the wall. Chris’s purple hair was almost black in the darkness as he materialized in front of you, his snarl showing pulled back teeth ready to pounce. His hand tightened around your neck, squeezing slowly. “I should have killed you that day in the throne room-”

“ Social climbing, greedy, proud,” you choked on the little remaining air you had left in your lungs, defiantly staring Chris down. “Always overshadowed, can’t do a single thing right-”

“You little-”

Your eyes screwed shut, waiting for the final blow- which never came.

9-JEONGIN

“You- There’s no way you reversed the spell-” Chris screamed, his silvery bright eyes almost white in the moonlight darkness. He could feel Chris’ magic rebel against his own, the intensity almost enough to make Jeongin see stars, but he held on. His magic’s grip tightened on Chris, who choked and spluttered to silence.

“You’re not welcome here, Chris.” Jeongin’s voice was louder than he thought, bolts of magic bodily pulling him away from Y/N. She slumped to the ground, coughing and spluttering, but his attention was speared upon the thrashing man in the clutches of Jeongin’s roiling magic.

“Y/N told me you had a chronic problem of underestimating people.” He sounded calm, almost conversational to his own ears. How was he so calm?

“I must agree for tonight, a foolish mortal boy will be the reason for your downfall. I hope your entire association remembers that before ever thinking of laying siege upon my kingdom again. Leave, Chris. And never return.”

“I would not lay my bets on that, mortal scum.” Chris snarled, finally finding his tongue before dissolving into thin air, Jeongin’s magic letting him leave. The castle was alive yet again, with faint murmurs and loud screams. He could hear the sound of life everywhere- and it finally hit him. He succeeded.

An incredulous laugh spilled from his throat, almost instinctively moving towards Y/N as his grin grew wider. He’d succeeded, he saved them, he did it all by himself-

He knelt before her, gently helping her sit up and open her eyes.. Dark eyes that were decidedly not the silver he’d gotten accustomed to. It was Yelina that stared back at him, not Y/N- her eyes narrowed in exhaustion, the previous injuries inflicted by the fight against Chris nowhere to be seen.

“Y-Your Highness?” Yelina’s Isles accent was back in full force, and it was all he could do to school his face into a mask of bland relief. His tongue instantly cooked up a suitable lie for their location while his mind raced- where was Y/N? Why did she disappear ? Did he do something wrong again?

Until he heard it.

A husky, haunting melody that seemed to echo from within the walls of the castle, the sad melody sounding unmistakably joyous to his ears. Y/N hadn’t left, he realized. She was right here, as she always was. Her curse was weakened, she’d said- not broken. She was still a prisoner of The Rose Palace.

Jeongin smiled a secret smile to himself as he led Yelina back into the castle, a quiet promise made between him and the moon- one day soon, he’d break the curse on Y/N. And that day would come very, very soon.

Wise men say, only fools rush in

Thank you for reading! :)

But I can’t help falling in love with you..

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anarchy-and-piglins · 3 years

Text

Summary: Technoblade spends some time in Pandora’s Box. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

(Read on AO3)

He skimmed his hand along the obsidian, the surface smooth beneath his touch. Some parts of it were seemingly warmer than others, but Technoblade didn't know if that was because of the lava running somewhere deep within the walls or just his tired mind playing tricks on him. He tapped the volcanic glass once, an action that fills the cell with a light ringing sound. But the layers ran too deep for Techno to tell where hollowness hides beneath.

Which was a shame, because knowing the structure's weaknesses would already go a long way in him figuring out his escape plan.

With no tools and the mining fatigue weighing heavy on his bones, getting through obsidian might be a fool's errand. But it was a better way to spent his time than waiting for a rescue party that would most likely never come. Or better yet, stay put and sit pretty like Dream seemed to want him to.

Technoblade couldn't see any other reason for him still being here.

The sky tore open, lightning forming a spiderweb of fractures evaporating as quickly as they had taken shape. Rain beat down on them relentlessly and made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them. Another crack – a flash of blinding light – and it carried the glint of a sword at Phil's throat, the steady hand of Dream holding onto the base of Phil's neck and keeping him in place.

Technoblade stilled in an instant.

The thunder rumbled ominously as Dream's impassive mask grinned ever wider.

The trade-off had gone quick and easy, an unspoken agreement that Techno would sign again in a heartbeat. He nodded curtly at Dream, who pressed the blade firmer against skin to make his point. Techno dropped his own weapon, holding up his arms to show goodwill. Phil's eyes widened as he realized what was happening, helpless to stop it.

"Wait-" But Dream curled his fingers tighter around Phil's neck, the sword inches away from slicing a jugular and Techno shook his head, internally begging for the other man to stay quiet.

He didn't know if he could do this if Phil asked him not to with that pained look in his eyes.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed since he was locked in Pandora's box, but Techno had a rough estimation. Sam brought him food and by counting the minutes between deliveries he had narrowed it down to two meals a day. Almost twenty meals had come and gone since his arrival.

During this time Dream had not come to see him once, was the thing.

It made a tight coil of worry pull in Techno's gut. One he stubbornly pushed down and shoved into a corner of his mind where he put all emotions he deemed worthy to be re-examined at a more opportune time, preferably over a cup of tea and some of Phil's freshly baked bread. There were only so many reasons he could think of for Dream to wait this long to state his demands – because that's what they had to be. Demands. Dream didn't do anything in half measures, always had some ace up his sleeve or a grand scheme to connect by pulling little threads of manipulation.

Dream had to gain something from putting him in prison.

Techno sat down on the small bunk that served as the room's only furniture, both bed and table in its function. The thin blanket that hardly did anything for him was balled up and shoved to the side. He started running down the list out loud so Chat could follow along. For all their strange tricks that eluded him, they still couldn't read his thoughts. Thankfully.

"Reason one: Dream thinks leaving me in here long enough will make it easier for him to get what he wants from me later."

Psychological warfare was the oldest trick in the book, but no method quite as effective as solitary confinement to break a person. Or, well, that would be the case for most others. Between the voices and a natural tendency towards extreme introversion Technoblade probably was the worst target for this approach. If the accommodations weren't so shit, he might have even enjoyed his stay.

Dream would most likely know this. Cross it off the list.

"Reason two: he needs to keep me secured for a future ploy."

A possibility, but the uncertainty tugged at Technoblade all the same. If Dream was planning to use him as a bargaining chip – or worse, a flunkey – down the line, then Techno would have had the honor of his presence by now, even if only for Dream to gloat. That man was utterly lost in his own superiority complex on the best of days, there was no chance he would pass on an opportunity to rub Techno's face in his future plans. Leave him stewing in misery with knowledge of what was to come.

A moment's hesitation, but he crossed it off the list.

"Reason three: he's forgotten I'm in here."

His joke made Chat agitated and he winced at the stab of a headache that brought forth as their yelling got louder, more jumbled. "Yeah, that would be pretty cringe of him," he agreed with their repeated outcries.

"Well, that only leaves the last option I can consider..." He trailed off, staring at the slightly shimmering surface of the obsidian. Techno could see his own reflection in the translucent facets. The crown on his head stood out starkly in the cell's dim light.

In chess, the best plays were always those that went for the strongest pieces first. It might be tempting to take a rook or two to start with, but you can't feel safe until that queen is removed from the board. Then it breaks open for you to do whatever you want with, essentially.

"He's leaving me here to rot."

Phil had stared at him, the shadows cutting across his expression. Techno couldn't look him in the face, keeping his focus on Dream instead. Not breaking eye contact even as his hands were tied behind his back. The useless gesture was only meant to humiliate him, Dream knew he wouldn't budge an inch with Phil's last life still in danger.

They had marched him straight to the prison, not taking any risks and all the while Technoblade had already been glancing around, committing any important leverages to memory. With every security measure they passed, his heart sank deeper in his chest.

Forty meals had come and gone.

Technoblade was chipping away at the wall, not for any real reason except it kept him busy. He wasn't stupid enough to believe it would actually amount to anything. Not when the walls were made of obsidian, not when the mining fatigue strained his movements and made his muscles contract under the pressure of forcing them into cooperation. There was less strength to his punches, flexing his fingers against invisible weights suspended from them by strings.

And even if he managed by some miracle to mine away a block, Sam would know and come replace it instantly.

"Chat," he addressed the voices. "You're familiar with the story of Sisyphus, right?" A mess of responses, mostly the repeating of their favorite letter which Techno chose to take as agreement. "Yeah, sure, I've read it to you before."

His claws broke through another inch of the solid stone. Obsidian wasn't a mineral, the composition wasn't right for it. But it splintered in brittle ways and cut open Techno's palm, making the blood run slick through his fingers. Chat went into a frenzy.

"This is what he must have felt like with his boulder," Techno concluded.

They stripped him of his tools, his weapons, his communicator. Technoblade was vaguely grateful they let him keep his clothes at least, though he suspected it was merely because Sam hadn't been prepared for the prison to already be put to use.

The creeper-hybrid looked at him in vague apprehension and Techno shrugged back.

Placing him in the highest security cell could have been a compliment if Techno didn't think it to be completely overkill and awfully dramatic on Dream's part. The rows of doors they passed on the way to the bowels of the box were concerning, enough to contain at least half the residents of the server.

Dream had officially lost his marbles.

High security turned out to be a euphemism for 'violation of human rights'. The cell was barely three by three blocks, with nothing but the bed tucked against one wall and a heavy-set door that didn't even have a handle on the inside. At floor height, there was a thin slot just wide enough for the occasional bowl of stew or a baked potato to slide through. The warden didn't have to interact with his prisoners.

"Cozy," Techno remarked dully before the door was shut behind him. It hadn't been opened since.

He had lost count, but he had to be nearing his eightieth meal now.

More and more often Technoblade found himself slumbering through the opening of the latch, only to wake up to a stale steak that had been left on his floor hours ago. It wasn't real sleep, merely a state of exhaustion both mental and physical that left him wandering the borders of consciousness, drifting somewhere between awareness and disconnect. Which he knew was probably not the best sign.

The lack of physical activity was wearing his muscles down, making even the simple act of pacing circles in the room send aches through his legs. For the first time in longer than he cared to recall Techno returned to the exercise routine they had done every morning in the Antarctic Empire – or at least the parts of it he could match in the limited space of his cell. It wasn't enough though and he felt himself grow weaker every day. There was no sunlight, no fresh air, and the food left something to be desired.

His mind too wandered more and more, having trouble staying on task. The voices gradually grew more agitated, bored by the same scenery each day, the lack of excitement. A permanent headache had taken residence and didn't show any sign of intending to leave soon, making its presence known through a constant throbbing and the occasional stab of pain when he thought too hard. Closing his eyes, Technoblade started to count out loud. Give them and himself something to concentrate on. Chat came apart into a tangle of numbers, noises, buzzing. He winced.

"Okay, new plan, new plan-" He curled up on the bunk, drawing his knees up to his chest. The blanket was on the floor. "Story time, what would you like to hear?"

More chaos, but one answer stood out among the others. Its irony was not lost on Techno.

"Thus, the first mortal woman was born and she descended down to earth." He hushed them and was grateful when chat fell away into quieter murmurs. "Her name was Pandora."

The door opened.

The sound made Technoblade flinch, the creak feeling so horribly foreign in the stillness of his cell that he had come to know like the back of his hand. He stared and didn't know what to think when he saw Phil outlined in the opening.

"Wha-"

His friend was at his side in seconds, one hand holding his wrist and it was nearly painful. An absence of touch suddenly set ablaze. Techno did his best not to shy away from the contact.

"We need to get out of here," Phil said urgently, eyes wide and panicked and the words died on Techno's tongue. "There isn't much time."

Techno could only nod, throat raw and hurting as Phil pulled him to his feet. He nearly fell over.

The hallways seemed different, longer and winding in strange angles. Door upon door upon door and Phil didn't say anything, just tugged Techno along. His head was filled with cotton. Why wasn't there any lava? Where was the redstone?

When they came outside, the sun was blinding him.

"Wait, Phil." Techno stopped moving, dug his heels into the ground and Phil stopped too. He turned around, skin pale and expression worried and it killed him. It killed Techno. "What's happening?"

"I came for you," Phil answered simply. "Of course I did, mate."

Techno felt like he was breaking.

He woke up in his cell.

"At the bottom of the box, only Hope remained there in an unbreakable home."

Technoblade missed his home.

He missed his farm and his pets and the feeling of the breeze running through his hair. He missed the winding of the river across the land, small sounds of trickling and running along the shallows with Wilbur and Tommy in tow. He missed Phil putting logs of wood in the fireplace.

He was tired.

The voices wouldn't stop screaming. Pressing his hands into his closed eyes, relieved when the pressure took some of the edge off, Technoblade grunted. "What has you guys excited now, hm?"

He didn't really care. The room was small and endless and he couldn't breathe within these walls, couldn't think. He just wanted them to shut up so he could go to sleep again.

But Chat didn't mind his protests, a litany of noise and somewhere in there, Technoblade could have sworn he heard Phil's name. He blinked back into awareness, struggling to get his stagnant mind into motion again. Too exhausted to move.

The door opened.

Technoblade couldn't even bear to tear his eyes away from the ceiling.

Somebody shook his shoulder and said his name and it hurt, it all hurt too much to be real. When warm arms wrapped around his body Techno wanted to sob but couldn't do that either.

"Hey, hey-" Phil was brushing his tangled hair from his face, fingers skirting along Techno's cheeks. He leaned into that touch subconsciously, needing it like a lifeline. There was time to be self-conscious about such vulnerability later. "It's okay, I'm here."

The noise that wanted to come out of him was a low whine, but Techno cleared his throat instead. "Took you long enough."

Phil let out a short laugh, not quite sincere yet but still music to his ears. "Yeah, you can complain about it to me later, once we get home."

Home?

Techno nodded, the minimal motion already enough to make him dizzy. But that didn't matter with Phil steadying him, holding onto him, helping him.

Coming back for him.

"Please," he said. "Home would be great."

#Technoblade #Philza #dream smp #mcyt #shara writes #this was for a request on my AO3 collection #but I like it too much not to post

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 4 years

Text

Freudian projection is characterized by some as a defence mechanism employed by those who are struggling to accept difficult emotions or truths. Rather than admit or addressing the feelings, the emotions are projected onto someone else. Perhaps that is why Osamu Miya was particularly willing to accept your unfaithfulness. After engaging with his friends and brother in the group chat, the Onigiri Miya owner’s lack of satisfaction in the answers compelled him to further research the matters discussed. There were threads on social media of what conspired earlier that day. Some accounts were evidently false while others held a candor that could not be falsified. The more information he consumed, the lower his heart sunk until it had reached the pit of his stomach, soon to be tormented by the acids inside.

Was it solely a coincidence that the description provided in most accounts on Bokuto’s mystery girlfriend fitted you perfectly? Of course, it was not. The MSBY Ace admitted to being in your company for the evening. Hell, the proof was slathered across social media. There was no shame.

But why label yourself as his girlfriend publicly? It was obvious that he would learn about it sooner or later.

Some spectators had posted to elucidate that the mystery girlfriend arrived only to save the MSBY player from hoards of fangirls who were bordering on harassment. So, did you do it to save him? You were never one to abandon your friends, despite the situation.

“She loves you, idiot.” He mumbled the reminder to himself in a scold. It was stupid to believe that you would cheat on him with his friend. He knew you loved him.

Of course he knew it. You loved him, and only him.

Yet a little voice in his head questioned whether his recent neglect had forced you into the arms of another. But the Ace was the last person he expected you to turn to. Your relationship with Iwaizumi, or even Oikawa held far more potential to evolve into something romantic. Ache spread across his chest like a wildfire at the mere thought of you with someone else.

The tiny noise of the lock clicking to an open hauled his attention from the nightmares projecting inside of his head back to the living room apartment. Removing the cap from his head, he attempted to burn the insecurity embedded in his thoughts as he proceeded to greet you at the front door. A weak smile twitched at the ends of his mouth disguising the flood of emotions he was drowning in.

“Oh, hi there. I didn’t expect to see you waiting for me like a little kitten.” A titter expelled from your lips as you stepped into the apartment, with the food containers held snugly against your stomach. Intoxicated by the excitement of finally spending some quality time with your fiancé, you were unable to detect the hints of pain scattered across his visage. “Here, you can start eating. I’m just gonna change into something else.” The plastic bag containing layers of food was offered out to the black-haired male, who was losing to the battle of insecurity waged against his mind.

“Okay.” As he accepted the bag, his fingers brushed against yours, drawing his attention subconsciously to your hands. He was not actively searching for confirmation of your unfaithfulness. He certain was not… because you loved him.

But if you loved him, and only him… Why was the ring symbolizing your love no longer snug against your finger?

The threads woven neatly together to disguise his emotions slowly loosened until all that remained were shrivelled pieces, serving no purpose. But you were already making your way to the bedroom, unaware of the torment that your carelessness had bestowed upon him.

Did you want him to suffer? Was that it? Were you seeking attention? Was this all a revenge ploy after what occurred with Ichika? Did Atsumu tell you something?

Truthfully, he would prefer that than knowing you loved someone else. You could seek all the revenge in the world, as long as you remained with him. He would accept it willingly.

But first he had to know – did you still love him?

Once the food containers were placed onto the table, he immediately began walking towards the bedroom, his quest for answers outweighed his appetite.

Inside of the bedroom you were sat at the vanity, attempting to unhook the necklace from around your neck, but upon seeing your fiancé’s reflection, the hook was released from your fingers. The slightest hint of tears could be traced at the bottom of his eyelids, and with his greyish irises, it resembled a storm seconds from brewing.

“Samu?” Instinctively you rose from the chair, quickly removing the space between you two before taking his hands in yours. His eyes landed on your intertwined fingers praying he was incorrect in his observations earlier. But alas there was no ring. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you love me?” The inquiry was voiced dejectedly as he searched your face for an answer. Generally, you were an open book with your emotions. Whether it was love or hatred, each emotion would alter your features in a noticeable manner. Right now, concern prompted little wrinkles to form at the edges of your eyes. But with the question registering upon your ears, disbelief brought your eyebrows to narrow.

“Oh god. That’s what has your panties twisted? I thought it was serious. You know that I love you, gremlin. Sorry to break it to you, but you’re mine forever now.” Irritation gnawed at your heart – how could he question your love? Was he really in any position to do so?

“Where’s your ring, y/n?” The words were whispered softly, barely overpowering the sounds stemming from the television in the other room.

“My ring?” A quizzical expression contorted your features, instinctively your gaze travelled from your left hand to the purse located on the vanity. “Right, it’s in my purse. I took it off for the shoot, but I guess I forgot to put it back on. Give me a second, I’ll go get it.” To retrieve the handbag his hands first had to be released, but to Osamu the loss of physical contact resembled a physical blow. Weakly he caught your shirt, forcibly halting your movements.

“Did you tell everyone that you’re Bokuto’s girlfriend?” Relinquishing the control he was struggling to maintain allowed his insecurity direct access to his vocal cords. There was no stopping him now.

“What? Well… Yeah but …”

“Why?” His voice sliced through yours, despite the fact it was quite clear that you were seconds from explaining yourself anyway. The unexpected interrogation was beginning to damage the limited patience you had. Drained from the activities of the day, it was only natural that you were not mentally capable to handle the additional stress. Not when it stemmed from misguided assumptions.

“Because he was being harassed by some crazies, so I had to save him!” There was much more you desired to add, harsher sentiments but to silence your rage, you bit the insides of your cheeks until they were raw.

Osamu paused evaluating your answer, your version of events aligned with the spectators. As he thought, you took it upon yourself once more to save a friend. So why was he still taunted by the voice in his head?

“Is it true?” He instantly regretted it, seeing how it sent any restraint you mustered to wither away.

“What the fuck, Samu. Are you kidding me right now? I’m not cheating on you!” Hurt laced with rage shimmered in your y/e/c irises. Instantly you swatted at the hand confining you to him. Hearing the sincerity laced in your declarations awoke him from his fever dream.

You wouldn’t lie to him. No. He was the one lying to you. He was the idiot.

“I can’t believe it. You’re the one who is always missing. You are the one who hasn’t barely looked at me for months. You are the one who ditches our plans. But you’re accusing me? I can’t…” Desperate to focus on anything but him, you ripped your gaze from him, subconsciously searching for an escape from the situation. “I… I’m gonna stay at Akari’s tonight. I can’t do this. There is only so much I can take.” The ache weaving into your bloodstream would not stop you from leaving. The weight of his words poisoned the usually welcoming atmosphere of the apartment. It no longer felt like home. But if you were being honest, it hadn’t felt like home in a while.

Osamu thrusted a palm against his face, panic surging from his heart into his muscles. They had all warned him, and somehow, he still managed to dig his own grave.

“No please… Y/n. I’m sorry,” The little cracks in his voice constrained your movements, bringing your hands to lower from the dresser containing your clothes. “I’m just stressed, and I said some stupid shit. I know you love me, and if there’s anyone who needs to explain it’s me,” He knew his words alone would equate to a band-aid on an open wound, and so he slowly proceeded in your direction, his fingers twitching before he rested them lightly on your hips, guiding your back to align with his chest. “Don’t go. Please.” His whispered pleads were followed by a gentle kiss that was applied to the area behind your ear. The gesture ignited a fire in your chest, one that began melting away the rage that was clouding you.

“Listen to me,” With an intake of breath for courage, you adjusted yourself to face him. “I’ll be anything you need me to be, but I will not be your punching bag. You don’t get to question me when it’s my heart on the line.” Your heavy eyelashes fluttered up at him as you squinted just a tad, challenging him to even try to dispute your words.

But he knew better by now.

“I know. I’m sorry. Please.” Slipping an arm around your waist, your frame was ushered to his as a small kiss was placed against your lips. “I don’t need you to be anything but my wife.” His response prompted your heart to complete a flip, and for once you hated yourself for loving him more than life itself.

But when his mouth returned to yours, urging you to forget the accusations that were made against your character – your loyalty, you did. At least for the night.

Let’s do it again, shall we - Freudian projection

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: if this hurt just wait lol.

Taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa @iloveanime691 @bringmelily @newfriendjen @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @sadkaashistan @seikamuzu @namyari @toaster-stick @shakiraisawesome @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing @uzumakioden @nerdynstoned @kenmasgameboy @tiooo

#osamu x you #osamu scenario #osamu smau #hq osamu #osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu x y/n #osamu angst #haikyuu smau #haikyuu osamu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu

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seanfalco · 3 years

Text

A Red Carpet Event | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’verse

an oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco & @super-unpredictable98

Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: Language, Smut (fingering, voyeurism, semi-public sex) a/n: And the smut continues. I love that even when we say we wanna work on something fluffy, it almost always turns smutty.

[ masterlist ]

——

"Is everyone set for tonight?" Lydia asked as she came into the room, having just arrived from the hairdresser. "Outfits, hair, makeup..." she mused, ticking off each on her finger.

When Lyddie had told the quad she was taking them all as her date to her first award show, the reactions had varied from excitement, to fear, to complete insanity. The truth was, she was scared to admit publicly that she was in a quad, but she couldn't keep that hidden forever and it shouldn’t be hidden, there was nothing wrong with it. Not to mention cheating rumors had been spreading online after some fans snapped pictures of Lydia and Win, which was complete bullshit.

“Are y’sure this dress is alright?” Win asked, looking at her reflection again. “Or these shoes? Maybe I should change...” she murmured, second guessing herself. She thought she looked nice, but this was definitely not her scene. She was used to band practices in garages and shows in sleazy dive bars, not award shows and red carpets.

"You look gorgeous, Winnie." Lydia held Win's hands. "You'll be the most beautiful girl there, guaranteed." Lyddie's dress was hanging by the wardrobe, it was purple with a wide skirt, a black leather corset around the waist and lacy sleeves. "Can one of you please make our lipsticks smear-proof so I can kiss my girlfriend?" she asked.

“Comin’ right up!” Win’s Nathan exclaimed, snapping his fingers with a flourish. “There, snog away m’loves,” he said, pressing a kiss to Lyddie’s temple and then one to the top of Win’s head. “She’s right, you look fuckin’ stunning,” he whispered in her ear before straightening, leaving her smiling softly.

"I love dating reality warpers..." Lydia sighed before pulling Win by the waist and kissing her hungrily. "I can't wait to show you off to everyone." Turning to look at the two very observing Nathans, Lydia cocked an eyebrow. "Seriously? Neither of you have even showered yet, do you even wanna come, or should I just bring Win?"

"It takes literally two seconds for me t'be ready, Lollipop, calm down..." her Nathan laughed at how nervous she was.

“Same,” Win’s Nathan said with a shrug. “Besides, it’s not everyday we get t’see th’pair of you all dolled up like this. Gotta savour th’moment,” he pointed out.

"Well, enjoy the show, I guess..." Lydia laughed as she undressed to put on her dress. "I imagine none of you wanna help me get dressed with magic, do you?"

"Why would we?" Lyddie's Nathan asked. "Cut down on your naked time? No way!" The other Nathan laughed, wholeheartedly agreeing with him.

“Do you need some help Lyddie?” Win asked reaching for the dress on the hanger.

"Please, baby. I need you to pull those corset strings as if I was hanging from a cliff, the camera adds ten pounds and I can't afford that on my first award show," Lyddie laughed.

“You got it, love,” Win murmured, helping her lace up the corset while the boys watched, lounging on the bed. “Is that tight enough?” she asked, tugging the ribbons as tight as she could, though not wanting to hurt her girlfriend either.

"Yeah, that's good," Lydia said, nearly losing balance for a second, but soon she was able to breathe again; fainting on the red carpet was also not a very good idea. "Thank you, Winnie." Lydia turned to the mirror, looking for anything to fix before bending over to lace up her combat boots. She thought about wearing heels, but she didn't wanna be the tallest one in the group. "So, how do I look?"

“Like an angel, a punk rock angel,” Win supplied with a grin while her Nathan nodded enthusiastically.

"A sexy punk rock angel." Lyddie's Nathan waggled his brows at her while biting his lip.

"Thank you, guys," she murmured, looking down, slightly flustered. "We should probably get going, the car should be arriving any second."

"Oooh, a car? Right posh, Lollipop, you'll end up spoiling me." Lyddie's Nathan got up as his usual shirt and jeans became a dark blue suit.

Win's Nathan snapped his fingers, deciding on a black suit to match Win's little black dress. "There, we look like a right pair now," he said, admiring himself in the full length mirror with a wink before turning back to the others. "Right, I think we're ready then," he said excitedly. "I wanna see this car you've got us. D'you think they'll have champagne in there?"

"Jesus, I hope not..." Lyddie muttered under her breath, partially because she knew the only thing worse than two Nathans were two drunk Nathans.

When the quad stepped outside, the car was already waiting. When Lyddie's manager had said he’d send a driver, she didn't expect it to be a limo driver, but hey, she wasn't complaining.

"Oh my God," she shrieked excitedly. The lights inside the car made it seem like a nightclub on wheels.

"I know!" Lyddie's Nathan grabbed a handful of candy from one of the tiny jars and shoved it in his mouth. "Brilliant!"

"Damn, this is nice," Win murmured, running her hands over the leather seats as her Nathan plopped down next to her, throwing his arm around her shoulder. "I bet you could shag back here," she mused, looking around while Nathan searched for the booze.

"Ohh shit, good idea babe," he exclaimed, his eyes latching onto the champagne flutes on the opposite side of the car. "Thereeee we are," he cried, rubbing his hands excitedly as he grabbed one, handing it to Win as he reached for the chilling bottle. "Nathan, Lollipop, some bubbly for you?"

"Hell yeah," Lyddie's Nathan nodded excitedly, shoving more food into his mouth.

"When in Rome... Sure, why not?" Lydia agreed. Maybe the alcohol would help with her nerves. Looking around, she wished she could be as carefree and wild as her girlfriend. Win was the life of the party, Lyddie was more like... the mum that holds everyone's hair back when they get sick.

“You okay?” Win asked, noticing Lyddie’s anxious expression as she took a sip of her drink.

"Um... yeah, just a tad anxious," Lydia suddenly felt very much like that little girl in the bowling alley again. Performing was one thing, she was confident in her skills, but this was different. People would be looking at her, not listening to her music.

“Wanna talk about it?” Win asked, frowning slightly, resting her hand on Lyddie’s thigh.

"You know, it's just... everyone's having fun, thinking about shagging in the backseat, while I'm freaking out. For once I wanna be able to enjoy the moment."

Win looked thoughtful before quickly tipping back the rest of her champagne. “Would you like me to help you take your mind off it?” she asked, moving closer. “Because I seem to remember your make-up is rather smudge proof.”

"That actually sounds amazing," Lydia drawled, taking another sip of her drink before handing it to her Nathan, who seemed happy to finish it for her. "What do you have in mind, baby?"

Win’s only answer was to smirk as she leaned in to capture Lydia’s painted lips, reaching up to brush her fingers along her jaw as she kissed her, moaning softly.

"Oh, okay..." Lyddie's Nathan finally noticed them and watched hypnotized. Lydia let herself go, the champagne plus Win's cold lips made all her doubt immediately fade away. "That's better," Lyddie murmured, pulling Win onto her lap.

“I’m full of good ideas,” Win murmured, wrapping her arms around Lydia’s shoulders as she settled in her lap. “You really do look fucking hot tonight babe.”

"You too," Lyddie murmured against Win's lips, both of her hands sliding down to her girlfriend's ass. "So hot, I can't believe you're mine." Lyddie's Nathan stared at them agape, mirroring his clone's reaction.

Win grinned into the kiss, wanting to thread her hands into Lyddie’s hair, but refraining, not wanting to mess it up. Opening her mouth, she teasingly licked at her girlfriend’s parted lips.

“I would say I’m all yours, but I know how much you like sharing,” she murmured.

“Oh shiiiit,” Win’s Nathan hissed, whistling low between his teeth. “If y’keep that up I’m gunna hafta either do something about this hard on I’m gettin’ or it’s gunna be an awkward night.”

"Way ahead of you, man," Lyddie's Nathan was already stroking his cock at a steady pace.

"Right now you're all mine," Lydia whispered in between kisses, one of her hands resting on Win's thigh, the other kneading her breast. "I need to blow off some steam."

“Jesus,�� Win’s Nathan exclaimed, quickly averting his eyes from his clone’s cock and hastily fumbling at his belt. “I guess that works,” he muttered, sighing as he took himself in hand.

“Oh good,” Win murmured, grinding gently against Lydia. “I can definitely help with that baby.”

Lydia's arousal soaked her knickers, but she didn't worry about that, she just wanted to feel Win, all of her. "I want you to mark me up," Lydia begged. "I don't care who sees it, I want them to know I'm being taken care of."

Win pulled back, her brows shooting up. “Really? Right before your event?” she asked, the thought arousing her further. It was her guilty pleasure after all to leave her mark on her partners. She just didn’t want Lyddie to feel self conscious when they got there.

"Yeah, give those bloody gossip magazines something to talk about." Lyddie bit her lip, her hand slipping between Win's legs, fingers gently teasing her inner thighs. "Don't you want them to know how good you make me feel?"

“Oh God, Lollipop, you’re such a rebel,” Win teased, but she didn’t have to convince her further and she latched onto Lydia’s neck, her teeth grazing her sensitive skin before she began to suck, drawing a breathy moan to her girlfriend’s lips. Lifting her face she lapped gently at the spot before moving slightly lower to repeat the processes, kissing her with fervor.

"Just like that, Winnie, it feels so good..." Lydia gasped, the thought of people knowing what she did just made her even hotter. "I wanna make you feel good." Lyddie's fingers quickly found Win's clit, circling it gently at a torturous pace. "Did you get this wet just from snogging me?"

Win gasped as Lyddie touched her. “Yes, you definitely have that effect on me babe,” she whispered, the soft grunts of pleasure from the boys only serving to turn her on more. She’d found right away since joining this relationship how much she like being watched. “Lyddie, please?” Win whined, pausing her exploration of the other woman’s neck.

"Oh, please?" Lydia smirked, finding herself in one of her 'taking charge' moments, which have been more frequent ever since Win came into her life. "Please what, baby? Tell me what you need.”

Lyddie's Nathan was always surprised to see her act this way, but he was starting to realize he liked it... maybe he should ask her to do the same to him sometime.

“More,” Win sighed, grinding against Lyddie’s hand. “Faster?” she asked with a pout. Win’s Nathan’s bit his lip. Hearing Win beg like that did things to him. She wasn’t usually the submissive type, and as much as he loved when she took charge, he loved seeing her like this, vulnerable and begging for it.

"Aww, you do look cute when you beg..." Lyddie moved slightly faster, pressing her forehead to Win's with an amused grin. "Such a good girl. Nate," Lydia turned to Win's Nathan, narrowing her eyes playfully at him. "Do you think I should finger her? Do you think Winnie deserves it?"

For a moment his hand froze as he gaped at Lydia. “Y-yeah, give it to her Lollipop,” he exclaimed, groaning softly. “Fuck that’s so hot.”

"Okay then," Lydia smiled at Win, as much as she loved being a submissive, seeing her girlfriend helpless like that was really sexy. "I guess you deserve it..." She teased Win's entrance for a second, gathering her arousal before pumping two fingers inside of her, the heel of Lyddie's hand still rubbing against the other woman's clit.

“Oh fuck, Lyddie,” Win moaned. “I’m supposed to be the one distracting you,” she murmured, dragging her lips along Lydia’s neck.

"You are," Lydia sighed, her fingers curling to find Win's sweet spot. "I love to see you like this... Just don't come before I say so, alright?"

“Yes, Lyddie,” Win answered obediently, her voice coming out breathy. “I love you, you’re so good to me,” she murmured, burying her face in Lydia’s neck, biting down hard.

"I love you too, baby," Lyddie purred, clenching her eyes shut, she was really turned on, but she liked the idea of having to wait until they all got home. "I wanna hear you moan for me."

Win moaned louder, clutching at Lydia as she felt her climax nearing, pleasure coursing through her. “Oh Lyddie, I’m close!” she exclaimed, writhing in her lap, grinding against her hand as it pumped into her.

"You wanna come, Winnie?" Lydia studied her face carefully, adding a third finger inside of her. "Ask me nicely, tell me how bad you want it..."

“Please Lyddie,” Win gasped, “please, I’m so close, I wanna— I want— oh please baby,” she begged.

"Such a needy little thing," Lydia mused for a second, enjoying what she was able to do. "Okay, baby, come for me." Lyddie's words seemed to have an effect on her Nathan as well and he squirmed as he came, making a huge mess on his suit, but he didn't care.

Win’s mouth fell open, her eyes falling shut as she came around Lyddie’s fingers with a whine, her whole body tensing. “Holy shit,” Win’s Nathan gasped, biting his lip as he came over his hand.

"That's better," Lydia held Win against her chest, kissing her temple. "I feel a lot more confident now, we're gonna crush this thing."

"Jesus... you crushed me," Lyddie's Nathan exclaimed, zipping up his trousers, leaning back in his seat.

“Ahh, so that was your plan all along,” Win mused, brushing a weak kiss to Lydia’s jawline. “I’m glad I could help. Fuck, but I love you like this,” she murmured, straightening to glance back at the Nathan’s. “Oops, looks like you made a bit of a mess there, Natty,” she purred with a laugh.

"If I can make you beg like that, I can do anything..." Lydia chuckled. "Maybe I should take charge more often, you look so hot."

"Oh, yeah," Lyddie's Nathan looked down at his ruined suit, but with a swift hand motion, it was clean and perfect again. "There, problem solved."

“I’m hot? You’re sexy as hell,” Win laughed. “I like dominant Lydia,” she admitted. “Though I like you every way,” she added, tracing the dark hickies she’d left. “I left you some gifts,” she whispered before slipping off her lap to sit between Lyddie and her Nathan. “Nathan, babe, you have a little something too,” she pointed out, glancing down at his trousers and the white stain there.

“Yeah, well, you look a little disheveled yourself sweetheart,” he teased, snapping his fingers to fix their appearances.

Lydia grabbed a mirror in her purse to look at the state of her neck. "That's definitely gonna leave an impression... I love it."

"At least we don't gotta worry about fans hittin' on ya," her Nathan muttered, moving to kiss over the marks.

"You know... even if I don't win tonight, I'm already happy with the outcome."

“And when we get home, we’ll celebrate either way,” Win’s Nathan exclaimed as the car rolled to a stop.

"I can't wait..." Lydia looked over her shoulder to wink at him as someone opened the door, and she hopped out of the car.

The others followed, with different degrees of nervousness, Win slipping her hand in Nathan’s. Outwardly she held her head high, a slight smirk on her face, but the way her fingers trembled in his, he knew she was anxious.

Lydia was somewhat used to the public by now, but the Press still scared the shit out of her. She took her Nathan's hand on one side and Win's on the other as they walked down the red carpet. "

Lyddie, Lyddie! Who are you wearing?" a voice rang in her ear.

"I have no idea, this is thrifted," she laughed, posing in different angles.

"Lyddie! Are you still engaged?"

"Yes, she is!" her Nathan pulled her hand up to flash the ring.

“Lyddie! Who else is with you?” one of the photographers shouted before snapping several photos of Win and the other Nathan. “Is your fiancé a twin?”

“You could say that,” Win’s Nathan grumbled under his breath, while Win flashed a smile at the camera, giving Lydia’s hand a squeeze.

"These are my partners," Lydia nearly shouted, way too excited to say that. "My boyfriend, and my girlfriend."

"Are you expecting a win tonight?" A reporter asked, recorder in hand.

"Oh yeah," Lydia leaned in to speak into the mic. "But even if I don't get album of the year, I feel that this win already came for me... I mean to me."

At Lydia’s words Win felt her face flare hotly, and a loud cackle burst from her Nathan’s lips. “Oh you could definitely say that!” he exclaimed, giving her a cheeky pinch.

Lydia smiled for a few more pictures before moving on to sign a few autographs and take pictures with her fans waiting by the barricade. Her Nathan nudged Win's arm, smiling while he watched Lydia laughing, having fun and being herself without worrying about anyone's opinion.

“Hmm?” she murmured, looking up at him. “What’s up?”

"Look what you did... she's so happy." He didn't wanna be sappy, but it was too adorable.

Win flushed at his praise, a soft smile lingering on her lips as she watched Lydia.

“Ahh, it was nothin’,” she murmured, leaning into his side. “She did all the work,” she murmured under her breath.

——

Delilah glanced at the screen as she took a sip of her drink, only half paying attention to the award show as several musicians walked along the red carpet, until a flash of green hair caught her eye and she nearly choked, leaning forward to snatch the remote and turning up the volume. “And who do you have with you tonight?”

“These are my partners—“ Delilah’s mouth fell open as she recognized her step sister’s face come across the screen, hanging on the arm of the gangly curly haired bloke she’d moved out with, as well as a woman with cotton candy coloured hair.

“MOM!”

#misfits #nathan young #nathan young x oc #nathan x win #nathan x lyddie #otp: green apple lollipop #timeline anomaly’verse #my writing #collaboration

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kikiwhataboutthatbrendon · 3 years

Text

There's No Shame In Being

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29339106/chapters/74770779

The mind wanders for the lost while life passes by.

Tubbo exhales a long suffering sigh into the dirt and grass his face is pressed into. An emptiness claws at his chest and closes up his throat as he curls further into himself. It's the dead of night and Tubbo is lying in the middle of his forest, not too far from his house that he'd left hours ago. Closed flowers sway in muted colors under shadows and dappled white light. The forest is quiet despite everything alive that Tubbo knows lurks in the night. And yet, his creations can feel his sadness, and stay hidden out of respect. An involuntary whimper crawls up his throat, Tubbo swallows his sorrows, and finally gives in.

"Universe," he whispers to the world, "can you please see me."

His hands twist in the soft grass he's lying in, he calls louder. 'Universe!" His voice echoes through the forest. "I need to speak with you!"

He waits, silent, taking in the sound of crickets and swaying branches. Tubbo's about to call out again when a gentle hand runs through his hair and a sweet voice washes over him.

"I'm here." She tells him quietly, feeling Tubbo tremble beneath her touch.

Something in Tubbo breaks when the comforting feeling of void washes over him, causing his shoulders to shake. "I don't know what's wrong with me." He confesses with a sob. "I've been feeling like this for so long and I want it to stop."

The universe rubs at the base of his horns, feeling the world wilt around them. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” She mummers. “You’re just lonely.”

Tubbo opens his eyes, tears spilling onto the ground as he looks into the darkness. “But that doesn't snake sense!” He cries, confusion and sadness clouding his mind. “I have friends and people who visit but… they're not close enough, I want someone to love differently than them.”

The Universe sighs, biting her lip in thought, before giving in to her idea. “Life,” she says softly, “you're going to help me do something no one besides Creation has witnessed.”

Tubbo sits up, turning to look at The Universe. Her crystalline white eyes show warmth and love in them as he looks on. He wipes at his tears, taking a deep breath while The Universe waits for him. “What are we doing?” He asks, clearing his throat.

“You’re going to help me create a god.” She tells him.

Tubbo’s jaw drops, he begins to stutter through his response. “W-what? How are we- I’m-” He stops, looking into the middle distance before turning back to The Universe. “Were… gonna make me a friend?”

She chuckles and nods then motions for Tubbo to sit next to her. “It’s easy to create a god but difficult to manifest them into existence.” She tells him as he settles next to her side. “It’ll eventually get to the point where they’ll create themselves, but you can help me make them.”

The Universe crosses her legs then rests her arms on her knees, palms up. “So, where do you want to start?”

Tubbo hums, wiping at his eyes again while looking around his forest, settling on a patch of puffy allium. “Well he’s got to like flowers.” He tells her.

The Universe giggles, closing her eyes. “He’s got to like flowers?” She asks, clarifying.

“Oh,” Tubbo says, “yeah I suppose he.”

The Universe hums, moving her hands to curve towards each other. Stars sparkle between her fingers, Tubbo marvels at the sight.

“What’s next?” She questions, feeling reality push against her fingertips.

“He’s got to be fun,” Tubbo says confidently, “he’s gonna be unique, I can already tell, he’ll be smart too, but in the Phil and Techno way.”

She laughs, pouring all of Tubbo’s wishes into their creation. “What do you think he’s gonna look like?” The Universe questions, already feeling the ghost of a body settling before her.

Tubbo sighs, wracking his brain. “Um, well red and green has always been mine and Tommy’s thing.” He says, remembering his best friend. “They… red and green kinda reflect how things are like with Tommy and I, I’d like things to be a little more black and white with my new friend.” He expresses thoughtfully.

The Universe takes a twist on his words, running her thumb down the center of the face beneath her hands, gently swiping her hands over both of his eyelids.

Tubbo looks up at the sky, continuing his train of thought. “I also think he’d be very dapper compared to Tommy’s…” He trails off, face twisting into distaste. “Racoon-like tendencies.”

The Universe wheezes, eyes opening to shoot Tubbo an incredulous look. He tears his eyes away from the stars, meeting her gaze with a smile. “What?” He asks, mischief in his expression.

The Universe shakes her head, grinning herself. “For as majestic as I attempted to make him he’s still described as a trash panda by his best friend.”

Tubbo nods rapidly, about to respond when he sees a solid body lying in The Universe’s lap. “Woah…” He shuffles closer, enraptured by the sight. The last smokey grey threads of the bodies suit stitch themselves together as Tubbo leans over him, staring at his face. Black and white skin is split perfectly down the middle of his face, two beautifully contrasting sides. Tubbo reaches out a hand to touch him and hesitates.

“It’s okay to touch him.” The Universe reasures. “You can make any changes to what I’ve done if you want.”

Tubbo nods then tentatively places a hand on the white side of his face, high on his cheekbone, just under his eye. He concentrates on creating in the same way he does every other living thing in this world. Tubbo slowly runs a hand over his cheek, as his hand moves black freckles appear on his skin, Tubbo quickly does the same in white on the other side of his face. He moves on to picking up his left hand, but stops, staring at his rounded fingertips.

“What are you thinking?” The Universe questions, silently creating the same freckles over his arms.

“I was thinking of creating this kind of… creature… a while ago.” Tubbo tells her, continuing to stare at his fingers. “I was gonna call it an Enderman, and… I kinda wanna make them after this, cause he looks a lot like one.”

The Universe nods, moving her hands to cradle the body's head. “You can do whatever you like.” She reminds him.

Tubbo nods then pinches a white finger between his thumb and index, dragging it out to create a long, sharp claw. “He’s going to be kind.” Tubbo mummers while he works. “Above all he’ll stick to his morals, following his vices and virtues with confidence, believing in himself.”

The Universe looks to him, pride in her gaze. “Anything else?”

He meets her eyes as he finishes, nodding. “He shouldn't be perfect.” Tubbo says, voice unwavering. “No one deserves to carry the burden of perfection.”

She nods, looking down at the soon to be god, and smiles. “Now what shall you be the god of?” The Universe asks the body, looking down at closed eyes.

Tubbo senses that he should be quiet, so he takes the body's hand, holding it gently. The cold feels as comforting as it does haunting.

The Universe takes a breath, tipping back her head as she centers her being to hum at the same frequency as reality. Voices start to tickle her ear, she’s quick to realize she’s hearing memories. Happiness clashes with grief, giggling screams colliding with the sounds of war, all the while soft mummers of love confessions overlap with howls of strife. “I know what he’s the god of.” The Universe says, looking down again.

The Universe presses her forehead to the body’s then plants a quick kiss to the black side of his face. “You’ll be the God of the Mind.” She tells him, whispering. She moves to the white side of his face, repeating her actions. “You’ll be God of the Lost.” The Universe looks up at Tubbo, “Put your finger on his pulse point and rest your head on his chest.”

Tubbo quickly does so, taking Mind’s right in his left, thumb resting on where there should be a beat. He lays his head on Mind’s chest, feeling calm and excited, waiting for what’s to happen.

The Universe puts her fingers over Mind’s cheeks, gaze full of love, taking a steadying breath. She feels for the stars, the edge of reality, what gives her the power to be, and she feels warmth underneath her fingertips when the steady beat of wings sounds in her head.

Tubbo’s eyes widen as a faint yet steady heartbeat thrums beneath his finger and his head moves with the first breath from the God of the Mind and The Lost.

Black and white eyelids flutter open to reveal shocking ruby red and acid green eyes. He finds The Universe’s soft smile and fond gaze, feeling a hand run over his cheek. “There you are.” She mutters.

He feels the hand gasping his and The Universe helps him sit up. Tubbo regretfully pulls himself off of Mind’s chest and looks him in the eyes, still holding Mind’s hand tight. They stare at one another, similar feelings of wonder coursing through them.

Tubbo cautiously reaches his right hand up to rest against Mind’s cheek, watching in awe as Mind leans into his touch.

“You're…” Tubbo starts, overcome with exhilaration, “You’re incredible.”

Mind looks at him for a long moment then smiles. “Thank you.”

@hermits-that-craft

#tubbo #ranboo #kristen #mumza #dream smp #gods au #divinity hidden from the stars

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jedi-valjean · 3 years

Text

Fic Meme

Tagged by @findswoman (go check her out!)

Name: K (rktho_writes on AO3)

Fandoms: Star Wars

Where do you post fanfic: AO3 and more recently the Jedi Council Forums.

By kudos, most popular one-shot: A Warrior’s Trappings, 37 kudos!

By kudos, most popular multi-chapter: [sigh] Du Doompa, Act I. It is the better of the two, but... I’m just really disillusioned with this one. I should have had a stronger outline. This fic has a lot of issues and I’ve made a mess trying to tweak it, so I don’t feel great about it. 4 kudos.

Personal favorite: Probably Trappings again. Leatherface I’m still reasonably proud of even though it’s a prequel to Du Doompa.

Work I was nervous about posting: I don’t know if there is one.

Method for titling fics: Varies. I envy those writers who can come up with song lyrics for their titles because that seems to be a trope everyone likes. (I did name my most recent fic after a Mumford & Sons song, but I decided to use the title of the song instead of the lyric I assigned to the working draft (it’s empty in the valley of your heart.) Du Doompa is “The Lowly” in Huttese. Leatherface refers to the protagonist’s skin texture, reflecting her struggle with human-centric beauty standards. Amber and Idiot’s Arrays is basically just the only thing I could come up with that fit. And A Warrior’s Trappings is supposed to reference the fact that both the major characters in the oneshot wear the “trappings” of their respective warrior cultures with pride; it’s also a slight double entendre because one warrior has a trapped bounty on his ship, which in turn has been trapped by the other warrior.

Outline or wing my works: I used to wing it a lot (which is why Du Doompa has so many issues.) Now it varies. For oneshots/short stories I generally have a mental idea of how the plot is going to go and fill in from there. For longfics, I am never not outlining again. (BTW, if anybody wants to help me outline the Tarre Vizsla fic I’ve been meaning to write, I would greatly appreciate it.)

Complete works: Everything except Du Doompa (RIP) and my current fic, The Cave.

In-progress works: The Cave.

Posted WIPs that I have active plans to continue: The Cave.

Posted WIPs that I have given up on: Du Doompa.

Exchange fics due soon/unrevealed: I don’t do exchanges. Might be fun to try sometime.

WIPs that live in my fanfic folder: That Tarre Vizsla fic I’m still figuring out. It’s basically an AU where he joined the Jedi Order as an adult. (It would be canon compliant if it weren’t for the DVD commentary... Eh, whatever.)

Coming soon/upcoming works: Hopefully that Tarre Vizsla fic at some point... But I’m also thinking of revisiting a set of OCs I created for Du Doompa because I know they would appeal to a particular mutual of mine...

Do you accept prompts: Not currently, no.

Upcoming story I’m most excited to write: That Tarre Vizsla fic. Really want to get that going. It’s so frustrating to be stuck on it even though the wheels are turning.

AO3 statistics: Íb-ku huul, do I have to? Alright...

User subscriptions: 2

Kudos: 65

Comment threads: 17

Bookmarks: 11

Subscriptions: 0

Word count: 87,591

Tagging @lilhawkeye3 @cacodaemonia @royalhandmaidens @duelofthefatesmp3 and anyone else who wants to

#star wars #fanfic #writing #tag game

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jamiedc-they-them · 3 years

Text

Sibling Duty Part VII

Requested Imagine: Daisy does all she can to help you through the latest twist in your story.

“So, she’s healed?”

“Yes, everything seems fine.” Jemma answered her best friend. She didn’t mind the questions, if anything, she found them a bit comforting, she wasn’t the only one shit scared of what the newest twist to your tale would be.

“Seems?” Daisy pressed.

“Well, May was fine, but now she feels others’ emotions. I just….I can’t say what will happen with Y/N.” The brit explained.

Daisy took a moment, ideas running through her head in an attempt to make preparations.

“On three?” She asked, looking back to her friend. Said friend nodded.

“On three.” She confirmed.

They silently counted up to that magical number, before Jemma pushed the button. It took another second before they heard a gasp.

Your gasp.

Your hand shot up, slamming against the glass. You sounded panicked, you just didn’t look it.

“Hey, hey! Y/NN, you’re ok. You’re ok….Look – Look at me, Y/NN. Look at me. You’re ok.” Daisy, though keeping her voice soft, rushed through the words. She put her own hand on the pod, where yours laid.

At least, it did, until you let it slide off as you observed your surroundings. Your breaths started to calm. However, Daisy couldn’t help the small stab of hurt that hit her when you just let it fall.

It was like you didn’t care.

“Where am I?” You asked, voice almost monotone; it was devoid of any of that joy or underlying humour that they had known and loved you for.

It was devoid of emotion all together.

“On the Zephyr. We got you and May out. Jemma – well, Jemma’s a different Jemma timeline wise, but – the…same….Jemma.” Daisy looked to her friend, finding it hard to fully explain this to you.

Jemma took the reigns, stepping up and hovering over your pod, “I –” She stopped, not fully being able to remember, “—I can’t tell you. But, I’m still me at heart, Y/N. Just like you are.” She explained, or rather decided on. She then opened the pod, a SHHHH hissing from it as it opened.

Then, you helped yourself up, holding up a hand as they went to assist you, “I’m not broken. I’m fine.” You meant it in a firm, but loving way, it did not sound that way though.

You sat up fully, opening your eyes and seeing the rest of the team looking at you with a happy look that you were back.

Your eyes then settled on someone you thought to be dead, “….Coulson?”

He nodded, “Hey, Y/N. Resurrection does it’s thing once again. Well, kind of, I’m an LMD now. Still working out the kinks, but I’m here.” He shrugged, still having that same smooth smile.

You nodded, attempting a smile but failing to do so. You did, however, manage to raise your eyebrows.

However, you knew that you looked unimpressed.

“That was meant to be happy.” You confessed, voice still dull.

The sisters shared a smile before looking back at you, “You’re not….hiding them again, are you?” Daisy asked, feeling a bit bad for having to ask it.

Hurt hit you, but it didn’t – couldn’t show, “No, I promise.” You raised your voice, but it sounded like there should’ve been a crack in it there.

“Ok, ok,” Daisy’s voice was calm and soothing, “That’s ok, Y/NN. We’ll work on it. But, I’m sure Coulson knew, right?” She looked back at him, he nodded, “See? You’re ok, Y/N. That was ok. However you show it, it’s ok.”

“It’s not,” You argued dispassionately on the outside, but filled with annoyance on the inside, “I – I should….I should be able to not fucking talk about it.” You did not sound like the annoyed person you were in this moment.

“I know. May had a similar experience, Y/N, only…well, maybe it’s the same thing.” Jemma guessed, putting a hand on your arm. As she did, she gasped; she felt all the anger, frustration, rage, concern.

“Bloody hell.” She gasped, immediately removing her arm and taking a breath to calm herself after the wave that had hit her.

“I’m sorry.” You meant it, everyone could tell that.

“It – it’s ok, Y/NN, it’s not your fault.” She assured. Daisy put a hand on her friend’s shoulder, rubbing it in an attempt to help.

“What is it?” Elena asked, arms folded, but she did look concerned.

“Y/N does feel, she just can’t externalize it.” Simmons was blunt, but she had to be here.

The team all shared a look. It just made you look down.

“Great, so I’m fucking that up, too.” Daisy had never spun around so fast to face you when you spoke.

“You are not fucking it up.” She was firm, and she sounded livid.

“Daisy, face it, I was never the best at emotions; Coulson can attest to that when he first grabbed me to come on the team. He had to coach me about caring. I was always the shut off type, you know that from when we first met. Maybe this was just it’s natural conclusion. Reach an end point with my emotions where I only feel them and never show them like a normal person would.” You didn’t mean to have a speech, but here you were.

Daisy looked crestfallen, but the Quinjet shuddered as it came to a holt.

As the others ran up, Daisy grabbed your hand. You heard her groan a little at the weight of everything hitting her, but she kept a hold on your hand.

“Daisy, you can –” You started to say, but she cut you off.

“I’m not letting go, Y/NN,” She kept walking, but you heard the frustration, “I just got you back, I’m not losing you again,” – The desperation and concern – “I’m just not.”

You had landed in the 1970s; 1973, to be exact. You had all been ordered out to find….something. You weren’t entirely sure.

Daisy put her hands on your arms, “I’ll be with you, ok? Every step of the way,” She felt the sisterly love; actually feeling it this time: the warmth, the care, the love, “There’s my sister.” She said, bopping you on the nose affectionately.

“Now, come on, we ‘ve go the 70s to conquer.” She quipped, leading the way out.

You sighed, a small one. You might’ve been broken emotionally, but the world wasn’t broken. You could stop that.

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

You walked out with your younger sister. You had just brought clothes from the shop you were exiting: You, a cream top and dark blue trousers; your sister: white type with a checkered jacket, same coloured trousers and black heels.

She observe herself in the window reflection, as you looked around the area. It was almost completely like how the stories sold it to you.

You felt a sense of nostalgia despite having never been in this time.

“Hey, looking sharp.” Coulson said to you both as himself and May approached you.

You both turned to him, sharing a nod with May; seemed you both were in the same boat, just on different sides of it.

“Thanks.” Daisy said for you both.

“Where’s Agent Sousa?” Coulson asked. Ah yes, agent Sousa, the man who was also out of time. A man that they had saved, a legend of SHIELD. Now, he was on your team. If you could, you would’ve shown a pretty excited side to yourself; a fanboy that would’ve rivalled Coulson’s.

Even though you couldn’t show it, Daisy’s intuition told her that you had something you wanted to express. She held your hand, being hit with the feeling of excitement, “Oh, wow. Y/N is very excited about having Mr Sousa on our team.” She announced.

You could talk, obviously. You just….didn’t want to seem like a dick.

The two parental figures looked at you, “I’ve read about him. Always been a fan.” You explained.

“Yeah, that’s fair, he is pretty cool.” Coulson agreed.

“Don’t you both start, now.” May groaned. Daisy laughed, she felt you wanting to as well. She gave your hand a loving squeeze as a sign: I got this for the both of us.

You hated putting this amount of pressure on your sister.

“Anyway, he’s still inside, picking out his threads.” Daisy answered Coulson’s question with.

“How’s he handling the transition?” May questioned.

“Honestly, the fact that he’s not projectile vomiting from the shock is a miracle.” Right as she said that, the man of the hour left the shop.

He was in a suit, the same suit he was in before.

“What happened to blending in?” Your sister asked, looking at his lack of choice.

“I just don’t understand the functional appeal of those…elephant, pants.” Sousa confessed. Maybe the vomit was coming.

“It’s the clothes of the decade. All full of over the top and extravagant things,” You gained a look from the others, “I like it.” You stated, bluntly.

God you hated this turn in your life.

“You mean bell-bottoms?” Daisy asked, slight teasing bite to her words.

“Sure. How do people in your time function with all the extra fabric around their feet?” Sousa continued to ask questions. You found it funny, a bit. The main feeling you felt was pity.

“We have a gym. We keep in shape to fit in the things.” You answered.

“I got news for you. This isn’t actually our time period.” Sousa looked panicked at Coulson’s words.

“Well, fortunately, there’s unfashionable squares in every decade. So, you’re set.” Daisy said trying to help his worry a bit, or her worry.

“And nobody seems to look you in the eye now.” Sousa seemed very annoyed at this.

“We do, just not as much anymore. That and –” May finished it for you.

“Wait ‘til they all get cell phones.” She did so as you all started to work down the street.

“So, I was thinking, how do you guys know I was supposed to die in 1955?” Sousa asked as you crossed a road.

“It’s in the history books.” Coulson wasn’t wrong. It was.

“Yeah, but…But what if you always plucked me out of time? Does that mean I always survive? And if we end up in your present, will we even be in the same timeline?” The agent out of time’s questions were starting to hurt your head now.

“I’d stop thinking about it. Your brains will spill out.” Daisy said, trying to apparently stop her’s from hurting too.

“Mine already are.” Daisy gave you a smile as you continued walking.

“Simmons can explain, sort of, but maybe you’d feel more comfortable staying back on Zephyr One.” Coulson suggested.

“No. No, no, no. I’m here, no going back. Might as well dive in and embrace the 1970s.” Sousa was addiment.

“There wasn’t any going back anyway.” Your sister grabbed your hand again to see what stance you were taking: it was a firm one by the feeling you had.

Still holding your hand, she pulled you back as a man on roller blades went past with a boombox resting on his shoulder.

“Starting now….” Sousa concluded as he turned around, “I can’t believe this old hideout is still running.” What he was talking about, was an old SHIELD hideout used in time in the 40s. Apparently, the team had already been inside of it.

“Did you ever stop by back in your day?” Coulson asked.

“Once or twice. Only the top brass knew about it. Good place to lie low.” The man answered.

“Oh, yeah? I wish I could’ve seen it back then. I heard Dooley had a reserved booth with one of those plaque things next to it –” Coulson was starting to fanboy.

“Ok, dad, let’s not keep Enoch waiting any longer. He’s been chilling for like four decades.” Oh yeah, Enoch was still around. That was nice to hear, even if you guys had apparently been forced to leave him in the forties.

Daisy led you down the stairs, but Coulson was the one who typed in the code on a panel that was horizontal instead of vertical.

“See? Flashy.” You said to Sousa, pointing to the way the keypad had been laid out.

“See you haven’t lost your wit.” Daisy complimented. You looked to her and she gathered that you meant to smile, grabbing your hand confirmed the playful emotion inside of you.

It was in full Seventies swing, the bar. From the looks to the soundtrack. To be honest, you should’ve been expecting it, but here you were.

“So much for laying low.” Sousa seemed to have a wit to him. Ok, he wasn’t as straight and narrow as you had pegged him for.

“Wonder what all this is about?” Coulson wondered.

“Maybe it’s a party.” You supplied.

“Happy birthday Richard.” Your sister joked. She felt the humour you held inside at it.

“Maybe Enoch will know what’s going on.” So, the search for your friend began.

May was walking back to you both with drinks, seemingly drunk already off the joy from everyone else, “Oh. Ok.” Daisy said, getting up and helping the older woman sit down, “Glad you’re enjoying yourself. Any word on Enoch?”

May seemed to be coming down from the high, “Oh, uh, negative.” She answered. The two women then looked at you as you surveyed the room, “How about you?”

You stopped and looked at them, “Nothing yet.” You said, before going back to it.

“I’m worried that it’s more serious than we think. Also, I might be drunk.” Ah, so it was an actual drunkenness, not just the emotions off of everyone else.

“Yeah, I think you might’ve discovered a new form of Contact High. Hmm. Because they’re all three sheets to the wind.” Daisy quipped as she took a sip from her drink.

“I’m at least one sheet to the wind. Give me a moment.” May said as she took a moment. She then explained that, after talking to the staff, they hadn’t seen Enoch in over a year.

However, a bigger problem came your way, a Malick was in play: Wilfred Malick. Some kid named Freddy, whoever the fuck he was, was still alive apparently.

Daisy moved tables, leaving you on your own for a bit. You wondered, kind of wishing you still had your drink to help calm the nerves.

“Hey,” You turned and saw Sousa approaching you, “You alright?” He asked, seeming genuine.

You knew you could lie, but you didn’t, “No, not really. Not like you or anyone else can tell.”

“Ok, let’s get a range on it,” He held out his free arm, “Can I?”

“So gentleman like….Sure, go right ahead.” You answered, holding out your arm.

He touched it, steeling himself as they all flooded him at once, “That’s a lot.” He admitted.

“Complex creature like myself does. Broken people tend to not be so straight and narrow.”

“Here,” He held out what was left of his drink, “Think you’ll need this more than I do.” He shook it, as if it would make it more appetising.

“How will we know if it works?” You asked as you took it.

“I’ll know. I’m not as straight and narrow as you’d think. Sometimes I need that to help get me through some nerves before a mission.” He confessed.

“So, you’re a bit drunk when you go on an op?” You drank some of it. It was sweet, but had a kick to it.

“A bit. See? It helps, don’t it?” He held his hand out for it, you gave it back.

“Sure,” You coughed a bit. You couldn’t lie, it had helped a bit.

“It’s not creepy, you know?” You looked at him to continue, “This. The whole, emotions thing. People express ‘em how they express ‘em. Course, some ways are wrong, but I think we both know we know what those are. But, you and yours, nothing wrong with it. Can almost be like a superpower, make people feel how you feel, turn the tables on ‘em.” He told you.

You went to speak, before he felt the emotions change, going into a protective fire. He followed your eyeline, seeing Daisy speaking to someone, and he wasn’t taking no as an answer.

“Come on, let’s go.”

You went to your sister, Daniel was forced to let go of your arm as he played the boyfriend card to get the man away. The man’s name was Gideon Malick. Oh no.

Actually, no, Sousa played the fiancé card rather than the boyfriend one.

Either way, it worked and it got you away, “What was that about?” Sousa asked as the three of you kept your voices hush.

“Long story, but apparently, Freddy’s son Nathaniel is still alive, and he was supposed to die in 1970.” Daisy quickly summed up for the two of you.

“Another change in the timeline. Get any intel?”

“No. But I did get a clue on where we could find some.” That led you three to the back room.

“Seems like there’s a story with you two.” Sousa said, hoping that only you would hear it.

“With me and Dais?” You asked, wanting clarification. He nodded, confirming it, “Yeah. We didn’t know each other for a large part of our lives, almost feels like we’re playing catchup now, really.”

“How’d you reunite?”

“By happenstance. Coulson pulled me out of the academy. Kind of wasting my time there: closed off and not making any friends. I was decent, though, at fighting and all that.”

“You were more then decent, Y/NN.” Daisy cut in with.

“Fine, good –”

“More.”

“Pretty good –”

“More.”

“Amazing at it.”

“There you go.” You rolled your eyes. Sousa didn’t have to fully feel the emotion you felt to know it was an affectionate one for your sister at her boost of your confidence.

“Anyway, nice play back there with the whole fiancé thing.” You told him, seeing him lose eye contact with you for a second.

“Quick thinking.” He defended it as.

“Sure.” You sounded dull, but he knew it was teasing.

Daisy managed to find a lamp, pushing it up. Upon being questioned by Sousa, she explained that she had been here a few days ago…in 1931.

Ah, so it wasn’t the 40s, but the 30s instead.

It was a back office, with computer equipment scattered around and only one on.

Now, you all had a mole, giving HYDRA names that were on a list that was shown on the computer. The list had names of people to wipe out.

As you went to leave, you saw Coulson and May cornered by Malick and Chronicoms. Daisy and you shared a look, “What are you thinking?” Sousa asked, not wanting to be out the loop.

“Trade.” You answered in sync.

It got you out, but now the Chronicoms knew you were in play as well. Now it was bigger than before, now they were hunting others. You couldn’t get anywhere at once.

Some of the Chronicoms followed you up. Your sister quaked one back, while you used the shadows to make a rope, pulling the Chronicom back and snapped his neck.

“W—What the –” Sousa started to say, astounded at what had just happened.

“We’ll explain later. Let’s go!” Daisy said, pushing you all onward.

She felt your anger for just a second. But she felt it.

She felt it’s power.

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Enoch had returned, drifting a car around the corner and stopping right where you were, “Enoch, you’re here!” Daisy said, breathless, as you all entered his car.

“Yes. As I have been for the last forty years,” He met your eyes in the mirror, “And it is good to have you back, agent Johnson.”

“Thanks.” You replied.

“Now, buckle up.”

You all made it back to the Zephyr, all standing together and planning on where to go next, “So, HYDRA’s attempting Insight in 1973?” Mack questioned as you all walked to the main part of the ship.

“With no Heli carriers?” Elena finished the question.

“According to Malick, SHIELD has a system of satellites and lasers, which as I say it, sounds really cool, but it’s definitely not cool.” Coulson got through the sentence rather quickly, trying to not make himself sound made at the end.

“Coulson,” He looked to you when you spoke, “Now’s not the time to fanboy.” He nodded, but you saw how he seemed to fight a smile.

“And it explains the launch pad at the Lighthouse. Must be where they’re planning to send up the satellite.” Mack guessed.

“Any idea who the targets are?” Elena asked.

“We found a dossier of mostly SHIELD assets. Bruce Banner, Nick Fury –” Daisy started when Sousa took over.

“Peggy Carter –” And you added a name.

“Alan Connelly.” You got looks of confusion from everyone but Coulson at that moment, “…What?”

“Whose that?” Daisy asked.

“Dad of the kid I helped out when Coulson picked me out for the team,” You looked to your friend, who smiled at the fact you remembered the boy, “Kind of want to keep the kid alive. Timeline’s sake and all that.”

Coulson knew it was far more than that, however.

Now, this happy-ish moment was broken up by the Zephyr beeping at you. The clock was going haywire (the click would tick down to your next jump). Now, though? You were going to jump again, and even Simmons couldn’t override it.

It was Simmons who had realised what was going on: The Chronicoms had changed their plans and were jumping early, instead.

With that, there was a shuffle, before you had landed in your new time period: 1976.

“Three years? How the hell did we just jump three more years?” Sousa asked as you both followed Daisy.

“I told you, I don’t know. We can’t control it.” Daisy was growing frustrated.

“Well, who does?” That answer was simple: The Chronicoms did.

To stop insight, you had to flood the area. You had a job, get into the security feed. That was to make sure there was no one left behind.

“I’m going with them. I’d rather be out there working the problem than in here where we disappear at any moment.” No one seemed to argue, so off you went.

It was an alleyway, a dirty one. However, the walk down did go with now issues. So, that was new; and nice.

“You do your thing, we got your back.” Sousa assured Daisy as she started to get the items she needed from the bag. He then looked to you, “You…do whatever it is she does?”

“Hack? Nah, not my thing. I was all about –“ You pulled out your pistol, “She was the flip side of that.”

“Now I’m a hybrid between the two.” Daisy spoke up as she pulled her laptop out.

“And I’m….less of that.”

“Still play a role,” He comforted, before looking back to your sister, “I’m guessing you don’t really carry a piece, do you, seeing as how you got that super serum power. I mean, Y/N does, which doesn’t make too much sense with her own power.”

Daisy opened the control box, “Yeah, it’s not really a super serum thing.” She said as she plugged wires in.

“Didn’t expect a straight answer out of you.” Sousa quipped as you both kept watch for Daisy.

You heard a groan from Daisy, “How is there a firewall already?” You both walked over to her, to try and help. So much for keeping watch.

“Seems things just get just get worse the later in time you go. I think this is my last stop.” The man was honest.

“It’s ok. This is just a setback. My software will crack it. It just needs a minute to load.” As she said that, the computer beeped, with the words: EXPLOIT SUCCESSFUL appearing on the screen.

“Maybe you need a bigger computer. That thing’s too small.” At his words, Daisy chuckled.

“What?”

She pulled out his phone and took a picture, “What’s that?” He asked, slightly fearful of the thing.

“This is a phone.” Daisy found humour in this moment, dragging on each word, “But only old people use it for calls.” She showed him the photo.

He looked amazed, “How did you do that?” He asked, amazement in his tone.

“Check it out.” She zoomed it in. She let him continue to play with the phone as she looked at you. Her smile dimmed a bit as she realised that you couldn’t emote.

You looked away from her vision, gulping a bit.

“Yeah, you look ok for a guy who just aged 20 years.” She pulled the phone away, putting it back in her pocket. However, those words seem to hit him, hard.

“Looks like I missed a lot.” It was meant to be just to himself, instead the two of you heard it.

“I’m sorry. This is just so weird and messed up, but the Chronicoms jumped, and we had to dive in after them. Without us, it’s….it’s way worse.” Daisy explained. You didn’t even think, you just put your hand on his arm. However, as soon as you did that, he jumped at the pity you felt.

“Sorry.” You apologised, moving the hand away right away.

“It’s ok, I get it. Just…wish I could’ve said some goodbyes.” He said. You both then went back to watching Daisy’s back.

May radioed to tell you that herself and Coulson were in, “Copy that. I’m working on unlocking the next checkpoint. Just give me a sec,” She turned to Sousa, “Hey, can you open that panel?” He moved over to do just that.

“How are you holding up?” Daisy asked, quickly looking at you before going back to the computer.

“Holding up as best I can, really…” You weren’t quite sure how to answer.

“Well, how are you feeling?” Daisy asked.

“Paranoid, scared.”

She looked, again, “Why?”

“Well, they could jump at any moment. We could be stuck here and –” As you rambled, Daisy approached you, putting a – what was meant to be – calming hand on your arm.

As soon as she made contact, she felt the fear. She tried to keep it out of her voice as she spoke, “It’s ok. We will be ok. We – Look out! —” She tried to warn you all, but you were shot before she could fully move you out of the way.

“Good to see you move.” Sousa said as Daisy made some movement. She was conscious. Alive. So, that was something.

“Y/N….where is she?” Daisy was still barely conscious, yet she asked for you. It was definitely something Sousa had noted.

“Psycho? That’s unfair, and very well timed. Wow. Right as I’m walking in. Hi. Nathaniel. Uh, the three of you took me hostage and changed my life?” Nathaniel recapped for the pair, feigning hurt at Daisy’s choice of words as she ranted about him just moments before.

“Yeah. How about you unchain us, give me back my sister, and we hug it out? And HYDRA and SHIELD can be together at last.” She was sarcastic, but she meant the part to get you back. Or…at least know where you were.

“HYDRA? I look like HYDRA to you? Take a look at Ron’s suit. Guy’s here because he’s got mouths to feed, not because he worships a space octopus. No. Religion’s not really my thing.” Daniel explained what he actually wanted. He didn’t care about religion, just about them. About how they got here, and how you and Daisy got your abilities.

“Where. Is. My sister?” Daisy asked, running out of patience.

Nathaniel laughed as he lowered himself down, “We’re digging into her first. Now, I’ve never heard a scream with no passion behind it. No..raw emotion there. But, now I have. Guess I’ve heard everything. By the way, whatever she’s got going on beside her dark manipulation, that’s some series shit. I mean…damn. Somethings gone wrong with her brain waves.” Daisy lunged for him at that.

However, it had been what he was waiting for.

“There she is! There’s the fiery sister. You know, however Y/N feels on the inside, doesn’t matter. She yelled, kicked some of my guys, who were more angry than usual, has to be said. I mean, Christ, they beat her to a pulp. And that was before we even got her on the table.” Then, she was dragged away.

Entering the room, she saw you bloodied and bruised, “No!” She cried out, trying to fend them off to get to you. She was weakened, and tired. And shit scared, “NO!”

She was thrown against the table, “Hey, easy, easy! Neither of them die. Not yet, anyway.” Nathaniel stepped in before it escalated further. The man looked at Daisy, who was only looking at you, “Now, she’s alive. Stupid bitch can’t get a handle on whatever’s cooking up in there. She’s one angry person. She’s not very expressive, though. Seems to do that through action more than facial expressions. Don’t matter, though, I got what I wanted from her power. Now, I’ll get what I want from yours.”

Sousa had no choice but to watch. Watch through a tiny hole in the wall. Daisy was dragged out the room, but you were kept on your table, “Now, onto Y/N’s brain. Wanna find out how she infects you guys with what she’s feeling.”

“It’ll kill her.” One of his henchmen said. Seemed they weren’t all bad. Seemed that they were just genuinely in this to make money for their family, and hadn’t fully lost their moral code…yet.

“I’ll be careful. I just need a bit to get it into me.” Seemed Nathaniel wasn’t a remorseless killer either.

Daisy was dumped on the floor, and he was gone again.

Daniel tried to keep Daisy awake by telling her a story about his army days. However, he then turned the tables on her, “Tell me about Y/N?” He knew she was fighting with all she had to stay awake. And, in his time in the army, he saw how strong bonds between siblings or found siblings was.

“Y/N….wasn’t the most emotive when we first met. She was cold. Took – took a while, but we broke through. Now….now she’s back to square one in her mind –” Daisy managed to get through the sentence, stopping every now and then to let out a noise of discomfort or to catch her breath.

“And she thinks she’s broken?” Daisy managed a small nod.

You were barely awake, your breathing shallow. But, you were alive. Your brain trying to find something to comfort you with. The main thing was flashes of your time. If this was it, might as well have a recap, right?

It took you to Sousa, how you had started out a bit weary, but he had won you over. He was a good man. Good for your sister, if she followed through with the emotion her eyes communicated: a small bit of romantic attraction.

Then, it went to a particular phrase he had given you: “Can almost be like a superpower, make people feel how you feel, turn the tables on ‘em”.

“What’s she feeling?” Nathaniel asked. One of his men touched your hand.

“Fear, peaceful feeling…something else too.” He reported.

“How can she be both fearful and peaceful? What’s the other thing?” Nathaniel asked.

“It’s all building to something…” The man said.

“…What’s that?”

“….Rage.” At that, you shot up, biting into the man’s ear. You ripped it clean off, spitting it away, you pulled out his pistol and shot the guard. Nathaniel hid behind one, the man taking a bullet for Nathaniel as he ran away.

You ran after him, before you remembered that you weren’t alone here. You had a sister and a new, genuine, friend to help. To save.

The love you felt for them was greater than your desire to hurt Malick.

So, you turned back, going to save your family.

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“Is she ok?” Was the first think you asked when you entered the room. Your face was blank and voice monotone, but your concern was still heard by Sousa as he picked your sister up and held her.

“She will be, when we get out of here. How about you, though?” He asked, his concern being heard both in his voice in expression, seeing the state you were in.

“I’ll be fine. We need to get out of here, though.” He knew he didn’t have time to argue, so he just nodded and led the way.

The building started to shake, shadows started to almost ripple: he was trying to get to grips with your abilities.

You just kept your focus on getting the pair out.

“How are you able to even stand?” He was still on it, but still sounded concerned.

“Lots and lots of adrenaline. That, and fear, guilt, rage, love. All the cliché shit.”

“It’s not cliché, it’s emotion.” He argued.

“Granted. And I get that there’s probably people like me both inhuman and not. But, still, having to shout them out is –” You pushed, pushing him back as guards ran past you and to the rooms you were just in.

You continued on your way, “Is annoying.”

A gunshot hit the wall, you used your ability to pull Sousa back, “Protect her!” You exclaimed.

A bullet hit you in the shoulder, but your grabbed that guard with your ability and pulled him into the dark. The others dropped their weapons, running away.

They were hired to do a job, but if they couldn’t get home to their families, there was no point to it in the first place.

However, one remained, he was shaken, “Go,” He looked as if he didn’t believe you, “I’m serious, go.”

He didn’t move. So, you did the one thing you could think of, you approached him and grabbed him. He was instantly hit with your genuinely feeling of tiredness and the want for this to be over, “Go.”

He ran.

“Good job.” Sousa meant it, having a not-too-much bloody confrontation.

“Let’s go home.” You blinked, almost happy that it didn’t get any worse.

You felt relieved.

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“So…back in the pod?” You asked as Jemma prepared it for it.

She looked back to you with a small smile, “Yes, I’m afraid. There is no other way. I’m sorry.”

You nodded, “Ok.” You went to get up to join in your sister (who was in her own pod) in a sleep as you healed.

Jemma and Sousa were instantly up to help you, but paused, “It’ll hurt.” You warned them.

“Y/N, you’re one of my best friends, seeing you in pain hurts me. But, if being in a bit more gets you to that pod that will heal you, then it’s worth it.” She was firm, but in her own loving way.

“…Ok.” You held out your arms, Jemma grabbed one, Sousa the other. They did cringe at the emotional pain, but they soldiered on. It seemed that two people holding you separated it between the pair.

They got you to the pod, resting you against it’s open shell. You looked to Sousa, “You gonna stay?”

He nodded, “I’m right where I need to be.” He assured you.

“You’ll be ok, Y/N. You both will.” Was Jemma’s reassurance.

“Ok. See you on the other side.” The two smiled.

You went back in, the pod door closing. Jemma put her hand to it as you felt your eyelids drop, you put yours where her hand was.

Then, once again, you were asleep.

#agents of shield imagine #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d imagine #agents of shield x reader #daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson imagine #sibling duty

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only-lonely-stars · 3 years

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The Future is Bright, Chapter 7

[Chapter 1 (Beginning)] // [Chapter 6] // [Chapter 7 - you are here!] // [Chapter 8] // [Chapter 10 (End)] (FFN)

The moment of truth! Cole and Vania are on a date field trip to the ice caves. What will they see? What do they wish for? Let’s find out!

Summary: What would happen if Cole had indeed had a reflection in the tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master? How would that have changed his life later? What would it have been? This story follows what might have happened if he had seen something, and what it was; who he would have become. What if his future was already decided?... (Rated T for safety. Alternate title: the Cosmic Spoilers AU.)

Chapter 7: Icy Realizations

Thanks to Ronin's 'infinite generosity' and absolutely zero threats of reporting him to the Ninjago City Police, R.E.X. was for the third time en route to the tomb of the First Master. Each successive time felt a little more natural to Cole, especially since water wasn't a death sentence anymore, but today was special. While it was awkward to think about it, Cole knew there was a word for it. This time, the trip was more intimate...

Cole shook himself as he thought of it, slight heat coming to his cheeks as his mind wandered, all the while Vania relaxed in the back of the ship. "Intimate" was definitely not the right word to use, especially when around Vania! Doubly so when he was hoping to see who this stranger was supposed to be, instead of just a golden smudge, and triply when he had uncomfortable suspicions about that person's identity. In the back of his mind, he wondered if this was what the First Spinjitzu Master really intended his resting place to be used for... did he mind it being used as a glorified crystal ball?

It was a question for another time. Cole found the ship nearing the caves, and R.E.X. automatically landed at the tomb before he could think about it too much. Then it was time for Cole to lead Vania down and in, careful not to hurt her, and to guide her safely. Together, they passed through the Spinjitzu zoetrope, then descended below the room with the golden staff and its chutes and slides; they at last came to the maze of ice.

"Here we are!" Cole announced as they approached, gesturing up at the cavern. "Welcome to the ice caves."

"Oh my…" Vania turned around, marveling at the enormous cavern with a whisper. "This is beautiful!" She beamed at him. "It's the maze that does the reflections?"

"Yep. As far as I know, anyway. Maybe the other ice does, but we didn't look." He shrugged a little awkwardly. "Anyway, it's right over there if you want to take a peek at your own."

"I will!" She grinned at him. "I want to know!" The picture of excitement, Vania spun on her heel and ran up to the ice.

For a few moments, Vania was still, looking up at it. Her jaw seemed to drop, but she closed it quickly, crying out in good cheer. "Oh my goodness, it's– it's–"

Cole laughed. "It's what?"

"It's... perfect!" Vania laughed brightly, the sound infectious. "It's everything I hoped it would be!"

"What, what is it? What do you see?" He smiled as she looked at it a little ways away, unable to stop his curiosity. "You gotta tell me more than that, Queenie."

She laughed a bit more. "Cole, it's me– well, obviously, but with my yang! My future yang, I mean!" She put her hand up to the ice. "Well, I'm pretty sure it is, anyway. The pins match, and... well, that's not all."

"Wait, really?" He came up behind her to try and look over her shoulder, but it took him a few moments to get there on the slippery floor. He couldn't help his overwhelming, overspilling curiosity. "Your yang is there? Who is it?"

"He's the guy I've had a crush on for years." She turned and looked up at him when he got there, all the while grinning excitedly. "I've had feelings for him for a really, really long time! I guess eventually he feels the same..."

Cole grinned back. "I guess so!" He looked up at the ice, but...

There was no other person's reflection there in the ice. Instead, it was just his reflection and hers. Even so, it was still a fascinating sight. In the ice, Future Vania looked older and wiser– maybe even a little taller– but no less happy than she did in the present. Her eyes still sparkled, her smile was still wide. She wore her hair down instead of up, straight instead of braided, except for tiny ones by her ears that had ribbons threaded in. She was in no uncertain terms gorgeous, and the laughter lines by her eyes made her look like she'd never lost her internal child's spirit.

When Cole looked at it, it made him smile. "You look really happy," he commented.

"No wonder." She laughed quietly, glancing between him and the ice with a soft smile. "It's everything I could've wanted. He's… everything I want. Maybe always has been."

He couldn't help but ask. "Well, uh, Vania. I don't think I see him. You're gonna have to tell me, who is he? Since you recognize him so easily, he must be someone I know."

At Cole's words, Vania's smile fell, being replaced with confusion that tugged at his heart. "...What? Don't you see the reflection?"

"No?" He looked back at the ice in matching confusion. "Sorry, Vania. I just see your reflection and mine. Whoever your yang is, I can't see him."

She laughed quietly. "What? No, Cole. Look again!"

"I am looking again!" He looked at it and then back at her. "It's just the two of us– well, future us. Cole and Vania, that's it."

"No, look closer!"

"I said I'm looking!"

"No, Cole. Look." She grabbed his hand and placed it against the cold ice, right against his reflection and Future Cole's chest, where his yang's pin was placed– her hand was cool to the touch. "Don't you see it?"

He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of her words, and to see what she meant for him to see. Her words were confusing, but he tried to make sense of them, hoping to keep it straight. What he could see... there was so little there...

Except... that had to be it.

The reflection was empty, save for them. Two people. Both had pins, and... the pins matched.

Cole's heart rose into his throat. "You– you don't mean..." He stopped himself, glancing down at her in disbelief. "No way. That's not right."

She looked right back up at him, unwavering in her doe-eyed gaze. "Yes, it is right. He's right there, Cole. You can see him."

He blinked a few times, jaw dropping a little as he tried to come to grips. 'He' was in the reflection; he was Future Cole. "There's no way it's actually true."

At Cole's repeated refutation, Vania's vulnerable gaze shifted, and she smiled hesitantly. "Um… yeah. It is true- at least, what I said is. Doesn't seem like the ice lies, either. I believe it."

He laughed faintly, more of a huff than a true laugh, trying to come to grips. "And you're sure this isn't some cosmic joke?"

"It looks sincere." She smiled a little more, if nervously. "Hooray for cosmic spoilers, as you called it…"

He couldn't help a little smile in return, but hesitated.

If this was true, it meant something. If this was real, or would be real, then it meant something too. There was so little way to know with things like destiny, and even less after learning about Cloud Kingdom, but... was there any way of double-checking?

He shook his head, drawing in a breath. "Sorry, I– I need to try something, sorry." He stepped away from her, hoping to find it easier to breathe. Then he went around a corner nearby, where he couldn't see her and she couldn't see him, far enough that he could breathe again. Far enough to test the ice's powers, and to see if things were going to change; maybe this would work as a test. "Okay, Vania, I have a question. Do you still see him– er, see me? Do you see your future yang?"

A tense moment passed, just enough to make him doubt. Maybe the ice was wrong, or lying. Maybe the ice wasn't accurate. Maybe– maybe he was never supposed to end up in Shintaro, or get married, or–

His thoughts were cut off when the faint sound of her voice came around the corner. "Yeah, Cole. I still see him." She paused. "Do you see your yin now?"

He sighed heavily, knowing there was no other way. "Let's find out."

Steeling himself, Cole closed his eyes. Upon opening them, he wrenched his gaze toward the ice in front of himself, intent to see who was there–

He laughed.

There, in the ice, was a vision of two people instead of one. There was himself, just as he'd seen before. Now, however, there was a woman of roughly the same age, which he stopped to examine more. She had long blonde hair, partially braided with ribbons, and pale skin highlighting her sparkling blue eyes. She stood next to him, hand on his arm and head resting gently against his shoulder, smiling softly even as her yin's pin was hidden by his arm. There was no question of her identity, and neither would there be if she was not wearing white and blue like him; she was Vania, older and wiser, and age had treated her well. The same Future Vania he'd seen just moments before.

Cole took a deep breath, grounding himself, searching for his element's calming warmth. "...Yeah, Vania. I see you– you're right there next to me, clear as day."

A moment passed, and then Vania laughed giddily, clearly excited. "Really? I– I can't believe it!"

"Me neither..." He touched the ice hesitantly– the vision did not fade one bit, with only Future Cole reaching out to mirror him somewhat. "This is crazy. It's real. It's actually real... Are we sure this isn't some weird dream?"

"I'm pretty sure it's not." Vania came closer to the corner, just barely visible through the ice, just like when he'd seen the gold the second time he'd come. A dead-on match. "I can't believe it's you, Cole!"

He smiled at her refracted image, then came around the corner to her, in order to see her face. The beautiful face of his friend– was that still a word he could use?– in all her glory and short stature.

Upon turning to the ice in front of her, Cole's stomach churned in uncertainty. There they were together, just the two reflections; no visions, just light, or whatever Zane had said. He didn't remember it, and it didn't matter. What mattered was that this was him and Vania, apparent yin and yang.

He swallowed, glancing at her. "I finally figured it out, I guess. I found you."

"Yeah." She smiled at him. However, after only moments, her eyes grew wide and her smile vanished. "I– oh gosh, I just told you how I felt about you, to your face!" She hid her face, blushing red and turning away. "I don't know why I said all that, I'm so sorry Cole! That was terrible of me!"

He faltered, but then laughed, mostly to relieve the tension. Little about this was funny... except Vania's reaction. That was. "Hey, it's okay! I'm not gonna judge you."

"I'm judging me!" She laughed too, sounding like she was somewhat relieved. "I just threw it all at you like that. How could I do that?"

"Well, yeah you did, but it's fine." He chuckled a little more. "I'm not mad at you."

It took her moment, but Vania eventually looked at him again through her fingers, still red in the face. "Promise?"

"I promise." He smiled, but then uncertainty came creeping back. Discomfort, too. The creator of the realm just spoiled their whole lives… and he'd not only roped her into it, but let it happen. Guilt tried to keep him from speaking, but in futility. "Actually, Vania, I'm really sorry for dumping all of this on you. The future, and this mess, and everything."

"Wait, what?" What he'd said shocked her out of her embarrassment, and she stared at him incredulously.

"Uh…" He looked away from her, discomfort growing. "I'm sorry. It's really hard to have someone else determine your life for you, especially with stuff like… that."

She kept staring, and when he eventually met her eyes, she looked at him like he'd grown a second head, embarrassment forgotten. "What are you talking about, Cole? I was so excited about this trip. Besides, this is the greatest news of my life!"

He stopped in his tracks. It was... what?

"Wait, really?"

She laughed, gesticulating wildly. "Of course it is! Didn't you hear me?" She blushed again, even redder than before, but she still looked him in the eyes. "I've had a crush on you for forever, Cole. At least now I've said it..."

"What? Me?" He stared, unable to comprehend what she was saying. "Forever? ...Why?"

"Why?" She laughed nervously, still red. "Do you have to ask?"

"Uh... well, I don't want to assume. I'm not Kai."

She laughed more, stumbling over her words. "Okay, well it's because... it's because you're amazing! I mean, I heard so many stories, and at first it was kind of a celebrity thing. Then I got to meet you, and you were so nice. It was the best time of my life– except, obviously, it wasn't perfect, with the Geckles and Munce and them needing freedom, obviously– but it was a dream come true!" She grabbed his hand in hers. "I've had feelings for you for absolutely ages!"

He had to smile at that, and how little her hand was, despite the moment. He could crush hers, but he would never dare. "Seriously? You just had feelings for me, even though you'd never even met me? How does that even work...?"

"Uh, yeah, I did. That's what I just said!" She laughed again, nerves taking over as she gripped his hand. "Like I said, it wasn't until I actually got to meet you that I really developed strong ones."

"Then why didn't you tell me sooner instead of keeping it secret?"

"I tried to give you hints! You didn't really seem to get it."

"I'm a guy, we don't do hints."

"I can tell," she snickered.

He snickered with her. "That's a little rude, Vania."

"Well it's true! I thought I was being so clear about it!"

He laughed more. "Okay, yeah, maybe. In hindsight, it's really obvious."

"I'd hope so." She let her hand fall from his and nervously fiddled with her nails, and the feeling of cool air instead of another hand was striking to Cole- unwelcome, even. "I guess– I don't know, honestly. I'm happy about this, but are you? Are you okay with this?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, Vania. I've had years to figure out what I think about this whole thing; I saw it years ago." He gestured at the ice, and at their reflections, clad in Shintaran colors. "For a while it was just knowing that I'd be human and get married, and now– now I know the whole thing. Now it's kind of new, and it's not what I'm used to worrying about anymore. It's new. That doesn't mean it's bad news, but it's new."

"It sounds like it's not the news you want, though." She frowned.

"Well– well, no? Yes? I don't know, Queenie." He brushed his hair back again, distracting himself. "I'm sure about one thing. I'm glad it's you and not some random person I've never met."

"Me too." She nodded at him. "Plus, we have lots of time to figure it out."

"Yeah. I'm happy about that." He smiled at her again. "I don't know how this is supposed to work, honestly. I'm sorry."

She laughed, shrugging. "It's okay. It's not like we have to keep that in mind all the time, after all. Maybe we can think of it kind of like an opportunity? Something to work towards. If we don't like it, we could just defy fate and change paths, and it wouldn't be hard." She hesitated. "I'm a lot more interested in it than you right now, but I'm not more important than how you feel."

"That's true, I guess." Cole thought for a moment, trying to understand. What was one supposed to do in a situation like this one, especially when both people knew it wasn't equally desired? Practically an arranged marriage, but by fate itself. They could try it and dive in, and Cole could try to grow feelings for her, or maybe use distance to break it?

As he thought, Cole took a good and long look at Vania. She was a dear friend, and objectively lovely to look at, but… there weren't enough feelings there to justify artificially building a relationship at the moment. If he was brutally honest, he knew it would die before it lived enough to be worthwhile. Still, the idea of not giving love a chance seemed unwise, and with Vania the last thing he wanted was to hurt her with something foolish.

Eventually, Cole knew what he wanted. He wanted the most valuable thing in the world. The most precious treasure, that which everyone wanted and no one had: time.

He smiled at Vania, finally. "I think I know what I want to do about this, Vania."

"What is it?" She looked at him, curious. "Do you want to try something?"

"Yes and no: I say we wait. Act as friends, and if we get comfortable, do more. If we like it, we try more." He shrugged. "Like a trial run of a relationship, just to see if it actually works."

She nodded, considering his ideas. "So you're saying we'd let it have time, and then see how we both feel after a while?"

"Yeah." He hesitated, grappling for words. "Not that I want to push you into it, or anything, I promise. I just don't know what else we could do."

She smiled again. "No, you're not pushing me into anything. In fact, I think that's a great idea!" She tucked some stray hair behind her ear. "May as well see if we like it before we do anything, right?"

"Yeah." He paused, then sighed, stepping away and beginning to pace, hoping to clear his head. "Here's what I'm thinking, really. We're friends right now. I like that, you like that–" he took a glance at her, and when she nodded, he nodded back. "Yeah. So if we eventually feel like we want to go further than that, we can. If we don't, the FSM can deal with it."

She laughed at that. "Are you sure it's a good idea to talk about the First Spinjitzu Master that way?"

He snickered. "He's dead. What's he gonna do, smite me?"

"You never know. He might."

"Maybe, or he might do nothing. Because he's dead."

"What if he's not, though?" Vania grinned. "This may be his tomb, but it might not be his skeleton."

Cole froze, then looked at her. "That sounds like a conspiracy theory."

"It is. It also sounds like it could be true, doesn't it?"

"No way."

"C'mon, sure it is!" She laughed mischievously. "Someone had better DNA test the body of the FSM to make sure it's really him."

"I– Vania. We don't know the FSM's DNA records." He laughed too. "We can't test to see if it's him! We don't know what his DNA was!"

"Sure we do! Just test some of Lloyd's and figure it out." She crossed her arms. "Easy."

"Wh– Vania. That's still not how it works!"

"Okay, well do you know how it works?"

"No, but I know that that's not how!" He snickered.

Vania laughed again. "Come on, Cole! You're telling me you don't know how DNA testing works, but that I'm wrong about how it works? You don't have a leg to stand on!"

"Hey! I'm using logic!"

"Or you're using doubt..."

"No way!" He snickered, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "You just don't believe me, but good news: we have all of our walk back to the surface for me to convince you."

"Oh, yeah. Sure." She grinned. "Convince me."

"I will!..."

As they walked, their voices echoed around the cavern. They didn't mind, conversation having devolved into their little argument, all the while ignoring the ice. Despite what they'd discovered, they had a solid plan, and they would stick with it; it was only a matter of time until they could figure it out for certain. Cole knew that it was going to be weird, and they weren't necessarily going to like it all the time, but it was worth it to give it a shot. After all, a future with Vania might not actually be as scary as he feared, considering she was such a dear friend...

If there was going to be anything between them, Cole knew one thing: he would not let it be because some fancy-schmancy ice wall told him so. Destiny wasn't the boss of him or Vania. Destiny, if it was real, was just an annoyance... but Vania wasn't.

#ninjago #ninjago fanfic #ninjago au #ninjago cole #ninjago vania #cole brookstone #princess vania #vania #cole x vania #vania x cole #colania #vanillacake #vanillacakeshipping #OLST fanfic #the future is bright #I've been so excited for posting this update!!! I'm so happy it's today :D

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kyra-song · 3 years

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Here is entire chapter! Tubbo and Ranboo fluff. Small stuff before the thing, Kristen is The Universe, Tubbo is the God of Life. Tubbo can create anything, but man's can't make an immortal. Human, demons, monsters, hybrids, but he cannot keep them alive. That's up to Death. So, here you are my love!

Tubbo exhales a long-suffering sigh into the dirt and grass his face is pressed into. An emptiness claws at his chest and closes up his throat as he curls further into himself. It's the dead of night and Tubbo is lying in the middle of his forest, not too far from his house that he'd left hours ago. Closed flowers sway in muted colors under shadows and dappled white light. The forest is quiet despite everything alive that Tubbo knows lurks in the night. And yet, his creations can feel his sadness and stay hidden out of respect. An involuntary whimper crawls up his throat. Tubbo swallows his sorrows, and finally gives in.

"Universe," he whispers to the world, "can you please see me."

His hands twist in the soft grass he's lying in, he calls louder. "Universe!" His voice echoes through the forest. "I need to speak with you!"

He waits, silent, taking in the sound of crickets and swaying branches. Tubbo's about to call out again when a gentle hand runs through his hair and a sweet voice washes over him.

"I'm here." She tells him quietly, feeling Tubbo tremble beneath her touch.

The universe rubs at the base of his horns, feeling the world wilt around them. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” She mummers. “You’re just lonely.”

Tubbo opens his eyes, tears spilling onto the ground as he looks into the darkness. “But that doesn't make sense!” He cries, confusion and sadness clouding his mind. “I have friends and people who visit but… they're not close enough, I want someone to love differently than them.”

The Universe sighs, biting her lip in thought, before giving in to her idea. “Life,” she says softly, “you're going to help me do something no one besides Creation has witnessed.”

“You’re going to help me create a god.” She tells him.

The Universe crosses her legs then rests her arms on her knees, palms up. “So, where do you want to start?”

Tubbo hums, wiping at his eyes again while looking around his forest, settling on a patch of puffy allium. “Well, he’s got to like flowers.” He tells her.

The Universe giggles, closing her eyes. “He’s got to like flowers?” She asks, clarifying.

“Oh,” Tubbo says, “yeah I suppose he.”

The Universe hums, moving her hands to curve towards each other. Stars sparkle between her fingers, Tubbo marvels at the sight.

“What’s next?” She questions, feeling reality push against her fingertips.

“He’s got to be fun,” Tubbo says confidently, “he’s gonna be unique, I can already tell, he’ll be smart too, but in the Phil and Techno way.”

She laughs, pouring all of Tubbo’s wishes into their creation. “What do you think he’s gonna look like?” The Universe questions, already feeling the ghost of a body settling before her.

Tubbo sighs, wracking his brain. “Um, well red and green have always been mine and Tommy’s thing.” He says, remembering his best friend. “They… red and green kinda reflect how things are like with Tommy and me, I’d like things to be a little more black and white with my new friend.” He expresses thoughtfully.

The Universe takes a twist on his words, running her thumb down the center of the face beneath her hands, gently swiping her hands over both of his eyelids.

Tubbo looks up at the sky, continuing his train of thought. “I also think he’d be very dapper compared to Tommy’s…” He trails off, face twisting into distaste. “Racoon-like tendencies.”

The Universe wheezes, eyes opening to shoot Tubbo an incredulous look. He tears his eyes away from the stars, meeting her gaze with a smile. “What?” He asks, mischief in his expression.

The Universe shakes her head, grinning to herself. “For as majestic as I attempted to make him, he's still described as a trash panda by his best friend.”

Tubbo nods rapidly, about to respond when he sees a solid body lying in The Universe’s lap. “Woah…” He shuffles closer, enraptured by the sight. The last smokey grey threads of the body's suit stitch themselves together as Tubbo leans over him, staring at his face. Black and white skin is split perfectly down the middle of his face, two beautifully contrasting sides. Tubbo reaches out a hand to touch him and hesitates.

“It’s okay to touch him.” The Universe reassures. “You can make any changes to what I’ve done if you want.”

Tubbo nods and tentatively places a hand on the white side of his face, high on his cheekbone, just under his eye. He concentrates on creating in the same way he does every other living thing in this world. Tubbo slowly runs a hand over his cheek, as his hand moves black freckles appear on his skin, Tubbo quickly does the same in white on the other side of his face. He moves on to pick up his left hand, but stops, staring at his rounded fingertips.

“What are you thinking?” The Universe questions, silently creating the same freckles over his arms and mottling the split down his face.

“I was thinking of creating this kind of… creature… a while ago,” Tubbo tells her, continuing to stare at his fingers. “I was gonna call it an Enderman, and… I kinda wanna make them after this, cause he looks a lot like one.”

The Universe nods, moving her hands to cradle the body's head. “You can do whatever you like.” She reminds him.

Tubbo nods and pinches a white finger between his thumb and index, dragging it out to create a long, sharp claw. “He’s going to be kind.” Tubbo mummers while he works. “Above all he’ll stick to his morals, following his vices and virtues with confidence, believing in himself.”

He moves back to the body’s face, gently pushing back his upper lip to press against canines and draw them out into fangs. "He'll doubt himself, just as everyone does." Tubbo says, sitting on his heels for a moment before going back to copy what he'd done to the body’s lower canines. "But he'll come around to the idea that he's loved, because he will be." He finishes his statement with an affirming nod while looking back on his work.

The Universe looks to him, pride in her gaze. “Anything else?”

He meets her eyes as he finishes, nodding. “He shouldn't be perfect,” Tubbo says, voice unwavering. “No one deserves to carry the burden of perfection.”

She nods, looking down at the soon-to-be god, and smiles. “Now what shall you be the god of?” The Universe asks the body, looking down at closed eyes.

Tubbo senses that he should be quiet, so he takes the body's hand, holding it gently. The cold feels as comforting as it does haunting.

The Universe presses her forehead to the body then plants a quick kiss on the black side of his face. “You’ll be the God of the Mind.” She tells him, whispering. She moves to the white side of his face, repeating her actions. “You’ll be God of the Lost.” The Universe looks up at Tubbo, “Put your finger on his pulse point and rest your head on his chest.”

Tubbo quickly does so, taking Mind’s right in his left, thumb resting on where there should be a beat. He lays his head on Mind’s chest, feeling calm and excited, waiting for what’s to happen.

Tubbo’s eyes widen as a faint yet steady heartbeat thrums beneath his finger and his head moves with the first breath from the God of the Mind and The Lost.

He feels the hand grasping him and The Universe helps him sit up. Tubbo regretfully pulls himself off of Mind’s chest and looks him in the eyes, still holding Mind’s hand tight. They stare at one another, similar feelings of wonder coursing through them.

Tubbo cautiously reaches his right hand up to rest against Mind’s cheek, watching in awe as Mind leans into his touch.

“You're…” Tubbo stutters, overcome with exhilaration, “You’re incredible.”

Mind looks at him for a long moment then smiles.

BREAD HOW ARE YOU SO TALENTED I LOVE IT

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

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17, 21, and 24 for the OTP ask? 😁

Well, hello, friend! I shall answer for that is DUTY! >:D

17. What senses (sights, smells, feelings, etc). remind them of each other?

I did answer this one in another ask, but I can think of a few more to share! (I got so much for these two, don't worry~)

So, another thing that reminds Fane of Solas is any kind of painting, namely frescos. Surprise, surprise! But the reasoning is mainly because Fane used to dream of frescos painted in a temple, one he always finds himself traversing in his dreams in the earlier years of his life. The style was nostalgic, impeccable, as if the hand that had held the brush was fixated on getting every line, every detail, every color, and every proportion just right. The paintings were like little anecdotes, way points trying to guide him in a direction with paint and plaster, but the story was always left unfinished, and it isn't until all the memories flood back that Fane realizes who was the artist of his dreams. *winks*

Now, I'm not usually one for 'smell' references, but oddly enough, Solas is reminded of Fane through one. Namely, chamomile. This was something I thought of one day when I was fighting with a headache and I was just watching a Twitch stream, and I was like, "Chamomile is a natural stress reliever. Fane doesn't like tea, but there are bath oils and incenses infused with chamomile, right? He would definitely be given that by someone or maybe even takes initiative to get it himself." Thus, the headcanon was established! Fane smells like chamomile, and Solas can't help but smile when he smells it from another source, knowing that his dragon is trying to help himself in some way.

21. How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse?

So, there's a little bit of A and little bit of B for this question. There has indelibly been a positive influence on both Fane and Solas due to each other. Basically, it all stems from pre-Inquisition, aka Elvhenan/Arlathan.

Fane, as a dragon, was inherently tasked with observing elvenkind, watching the flow of which they progressed and if their machinations benefited the world in which they lived. Each dragon had this inherent task, albeit in different ways. Dragons that lived in arid regions were tasked with controlling the sandscape, preserving the ancient temples by covering them with said sand, making inaccessible areas accessible for wildlife, so on, so forth.

Fane, and the others of his specific kin, not only watched the Elvhen, they guided them, but only if it was deemed necessary. White dragons could not want for anything beyond what the world needed, and their powers of absorbing, reflecting, and understanding emotions was what made them highly sought after by the Evanuris. When the Evanuris began enslaving elves, they began enslaving dragons, too. And this is around the time Solas and Fane met; when Fane was the last of his white kin. Fane had gone into recluse, hiding; he turned his back on those who were suffering because he couldn't bear to see them be subjected to magic bending and breaking their minds, turning their eyes grey where they were otherwise a multitude of colors. Solas found him through a curious venture as we all know the dear wolf is prone to curiosity.

Their beginnings were rough. Fane tried multiple, multiple times to kill Solas. He saw him as no different than those who had thus far enslaved his kin. He held anger, rage, resentment, and pride, which warped his nature of calm observation and cool acceptance to preemptive prejudice and scornful indifference. Fane stopped caring; about everything. Solas reached out to him, wanted to help him, and for the sake of keeping things somewhat short, they grew close after constant revisits and...silence. Solas allowed Fane to watch him, learn about him, read his eyes, and in turn, Fane began to open up, rediscover his original nature, and learn about another side from a more personal view. Solas taught Fane that nothing can change or return to what they had been unless he tried, and he did, even though it ended poorly. And even though it takes him twenty-four years and a lot of hardship, Fane finally remembers that important lesson and he's forever grateful, even as they walk onto the same stage that burned before.

Now, Fane has helped Solas do something we all know the dear wolf is a bit hesitant to do, and that's show his emotions. I stated once upon a time that my interpretation of Solas a little more...personal. Basically, I'm exploring a side of Solas that we don't really get to see, and that's an emotional one. My stories encompass a lot of emotion, a lot of grey morality, so I try to do that while keeping Solas in character with how we know him. However, with this AU of mine, Solas is more in touch with his emotions when with Fane. Why? Because Fane did what he was tasked with from birth; he guided. Through silent looks and seemingly disgruntled huffs, Fane allowed Solas to open up, to feel safe when every corner held a knife.

He let him be him. Not the Dread Wolf. Not the Rebel God. Not anything more than what he was naturally, and that was a being who needed to let their emotions go as freely as the magic so intertwined with their nature. They were friends, companions, even though they were two completely different species, and for all intents and purposes, enemies. They loved each other, but couldn't say it. After Fane died, Solas locked up again, kept his emotions sealed away, but when Fane reappeared in his life, both unknowing of who the other was, it all came back so easily, so fluidly. And what you'll see in a lot of my stories of Solas and Fane's early acquaintanceship in Inquisition is that they flow, they let the other be weak even though they don't want to be weak.

As for how they change each other for the worse...well, that ties into a lot of what I have planned during Post-Trespasser arcs. My stories are 'fix-its', but again, grey morality. There's a happy ending, but not without opposition first and a lot of hard lessons. Solas and Fane will do shit that makes people go, "Why?!", but aren't we already saying that with what Solas canon-wise is doing? Why not add an Inquisitor into the mix and live the fantasy we weren't allowed to choose?

24. What is something they have each had to forgive the other for?

Okay, so Fane's isn't what you'd think it is. You all know me, I like to go, 'You thought not! AHA! >:D'. Most people who've read my stories might think, "Oh, Fane has to forgive Solas for erecting the Veil because it's driving his kin insane." That makes sense, but it's not what Fane has had to forgive Solas for. Fane has had to forgive Solas for doubting him.

What I mean by this is that Solas tries to steer Fane away from helping him (Look! It's canon after all! XD). And mainly it's because Solas sees Fane thriving in this new life, connecting with people, seeing the world from a different perspective, and so he starts to think that Fane wouldn't want to help him. Which is complete bullshit because Fane, even when Solas tries to gently steer him away, is like, "I'm here. I'm not going to abandon you again." But typical Solas is typical Solas and is weighed down with grief and his doubts, but eventually he relents after a dragon fight. I won't say when this will occur, but...yeah. It's a bad time, and it shows Solas that Fane wasn't thriving as well as he'd thought. It takes a bit, but Fane comes to understand why Solas was trying to guide him away, and it helps when you're a stubborn dragon in love with a stubborn wolf! :D

Now for Solas, I have a little excerpt from a short story (the one I've been sharing a lot in tag games!). It kind of gives a basis of what Fane can sometimes do when he's not thinking or if he doesn't talk to Solas.

***

“F..Fane..!”, Solas growled out, a surge of heat invading his head as he felt his dragon’s dormant fury within his soul. It was thrashing, knocking, pounding against the confines of their link, wishing to be set free through him and his actions.

“This is..ugh..important, dammit!”, Fane grunted out as Solas was finally starting to push back, as well as his own minor discomfort with the magic that was slowly building around them.

“Then..ngh..speak of it!”, Solas snapped, feeling something like a pinch against his mind before that sensation ricoheted outwards, a lesser burst of magic managing to separate their bodies, but not their tethered souls. “Hiding in your mind only inflicts more harm!”, he almost yelled, his mind clouding with unusual rage. He was never ruffled this easily, but this wasn’t him, was it?

No, this was Fane, or more accurately, Fane’s mind. And it was red hot with fury.

He watched with slightly haggard breathing as Fane slid back a few feet, a grimace on his face from the smell of ozone, but shook it off easily. Now fully golden eyes glared with steamy ferocity upon him, a broad chest heaving with Veil born ire and excitement at finally having a challenge. Solas straightened himself a bit, clearing his throat as the distance between their bodies allowed him to think a bit more clearly, but he could still feel the thread that connected them intensely.

“Ma’isenatha, please--”, Solas attempted to reach the unhinged being before him, even as he could feel his own mind beginning to cloud again as Fane stalked towards him. They needed to cease this dance before one of them got hurt or insanely ill!

“Quit…”, the fuming dragon began before whipping the staff in his hand around in a near perfect arc towards him. “..talking!”, he snarled furiously, deftly hitting the other end of the staff with his wrist to cut off its intended path for a shorter route.

Solas was a bit curious by the adept usage, but shuffled that thought away quickly to block the blow that was inevitably aimed for his jaw. Now wasn’t the time to ruminate! As much as he loathed to admit it, and encourage it, there was only one way out of this foolish scenario!

“Enough!”, a cry harboring necessary command releasing from his lips, making the link between them snap like a bowstring. “Ngh..!” The heady, harsh sensation had the air leaving his lungs before he swept one end of his staff upwards without volition, missing his mark by a hair. He blinked when the sensation eased off, grimacing as he stared at the staff poised just next to Fane’s face, precisely at the point where his scar was. How ironic, but he knew what was happening now with that.

The involuntary reaction had been too planned, too memory bound. It was like when they had viciously fought as Haven burned with fire and corruption, and he had had no choice but to wound the otherwise perfect face before him - a deep scar left on his left cheek from his staff blade. His arms had been wrapped, then strung up in invisible bonds that radiated desperate heat and furious rage, guiding them to repeat the action due to a desire for something unsaid.

In simple terms, he was being controlled by emotions alone - emotions that were not his own.

“Interesting.”, Solas said, but narrowed his eyes upon the fierce man. “Emotions are your strings.”, he pointed out, more realization dawning on him as to where all these minor outbursts, sudden movements, and disorienting sensations were coming from. Fane..

...was manipulating emotions, guiding them to the destination he desired.

Fane’s eyes narrowed, emerald reappearing to deepen with rage as tufts of his hair fluttered from the air behind his swipe. “I’m intervening.”, the draconic side of his love coming out in full bloom now.

“Why?” He issued it as more a command than a true question. He was mildly miffed by this usage of abilities, but he needed context to decipher why Fane had thought this was necessary. It was unusual and worrying for him to use them like this.

“It’s necessary.”, Fane said with a flat tone, but there was fire crackling beneath its supposed embers, as well as the deep emerald gaze bearing down upon him before he twisted his staff upwards to once again aim under his chin. Solas dodged the movement by an inch, feeling the amount of force behind it with air alone.

His dragon was steadily losing his control, and it wouldn’t be long until he was truly unhinged.

“Fane!”, Solas met the glare with one that felt just as furious as he called out, but finally began to retaliate, no longer wishing to play on the defensive and draw this out longer. “Very well..”, he said lowly, gripping the staff tightly as he pressed in harder, matching Fane’s footwork step for step as their blows connected with near splintering cracks. “...if you are so..”, a harsh crack of their staves reverberating through the air. “...intent on not speaking of what troubles you, then I will make it so you have no choice but to!”

A long, muscled leg nearly knocked into one of his knees as it swept under him, its pace incredibly fast for something intended to withstand punishment. It was like a dragon’s tail as it swept aside massive boulders, and uprooted century old trees.

Fane let out a gasping laugh. “You’re still..ngh..t..talking?!”, he roared, snowy brows furrowed in growing pain as sweat began to form along a lightly flushed temple, hand trembling where it nearly snapped his staff in half.

“I am doing what you refuse to do!” A jab with his staff nearly connected with a muscled arm, but it went through the gap between itself and the toned body it was attached to. “Gh..!”, he winced as he felt a sharp yank on his mind, as well as the staff in his hands as Fane grabbed a hold of it to pull him forward harshly.

The world halted suddenly, its furious, heated pace slightly cooled as their gazes connected, all sound flushing out to where the only sound was their combined, harsh breathing. Emerald and gold swam, ebbed around each other like a phylactery did with its magical blood as the face that bore them was lax in stunned silence, sweat trickling down flush cheeks before it would disappear along a strong neck. Solas felt his face was no better, feeling how droplets of sweat rolled down the sides of his face and how his mouth was slightly agape as he fought for a shred of breath.

What was...going on? This feeling, like their desires were coalescing, taking shape before them like spirits shaped the Fade around them...it was intoxicating, comforting, and serene amid the furious battle they had been engaged in moments before. Their link was still there, but it was soft, velvet against his mind as the gentle essence wrapped around it in an embrace.

It was no longer painted...red.

“Hnn..”, Solas let out a quiet sigh, breath hitching after as the blanket around him became warmer, silken. When had it shifted? He hadn’t been aware because of rage painting the world before him in crimson..

“Too...much..”, he heard Fane whisper out between pants, but it was more to himself than to Solas. “...You shouldn’t feel that like I do.. Shit..”

Solas blinked a bit to reorient himself, the softness of his mind making it hard to think before he saw Fane’s face near inches from his, the hand that had grabbed his staff now making itself known upon the back of his neck, steadying him. When had that gotten there?

“What..”, Solas started, closing his eyes for a moment as the world spun for a second before reopening to try again. “What..was that?”

“My mind.”, Fane muttered, eyes flitting across his face worriedly. “I didn’t think..”, he trailed off with a light growl as brilliant eyes turned downcast. “I fucked up… I’m sorry...”

***

So, yeah. It doesn't take Solas long to forgive Fane, but when he first demonstrates just how dangerous his abilities can be and actively uses them to manipulate our wolf gets a little miffed. Solas wants Fane to use his voice more, and these are moments in which Fane doesn't and taps into that warped perception of himself; the one that got him killed.

#oc asks #asks #oc: fane lavellan #solas #solavellan #dragon age #sorry for how insanely long this is!#i just have so much nuanced crap for these two that I get carried away XD #and forgive if the excerpt is a bit...sloppy. it's still a wip! :3 #there's also a lot of stuff that i'm just playing with in regards to Fane and Solas but i know the basis of how they operate X3 #thank you again! <3

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