#hoping and praying to whatever is out there that this post finds someone on the beautiful horizons that are

[cult-of-husbandos]

yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

[dixons-sunshine]

No Backing Out | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you told Daryl you were pregnant, he vowed to himself he would be there for you throughout everything. However, when Daryl got a message over the radio that your water had broken, and he wasn’t anywhere near the community, his heart dropped, and he raced back towards the safe zone, his only hope being that you hadn’t been forced to go through everything alone.

Genre: Slightly angsty/fluffy.

Era: Alexandria, set post Saviour arc.

Warnings: Mentions of labour and child birth.

Word count: 1k.

A/N: I don’t know what this is. I had this idea of Daryl nearly missing his child’s birth and (very poorly) executed it. I’m sorry this sucks, but I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable.

With a loud, deafening screech, the rusted gates of the safe zone rolled open, allowing the approaching blue vehicle to drive into the safety of the community’s walls. The car barely had time to come to a stop within the gated community before the door of the vehicle was flung open. Daryl scrambled to get out of the vehicle, nearly falling to the ground in his haste, and took off in a sprint. He accidentally dropped his beloved crossbow on the gravel, but he didn’t even realize. His only concern was getting to your shared home, to you. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

He just hoped his mission beyond the walls with Rick hadn’t cost him being there for the birth of his child.

The message that Carol had relayed to Daryl and Rick over the radio still rung clear in his mind. ‘Y/N’s water broke’. That message had Daryl regretting ever leaving your side that morning in the first place. He should have told Rick to take someone else instead. If he had, then he wouldn’t be running down the streets of Alexandria, praying to whatever entity was listening that he wasn’t too late.

Your shared home came into view, and Daryl picked up the pace. Even when running from walkers, Daryl had never run quite as fast as he was at that moment. Each moment he slowed to catch his breath could potentially lead to you having to go through everything alone, if you hadn’t already gone through everything alone. He really hoped you hadn’t. He would feel like the lowest piece of shit on earth if he had missed it.

He ran up the porch steps, taking three steps at a time. He flung the front door open, the wood crashing against the wall, but Daryl didn’t care. A hole in the wall could be fixed. Missing the birth of his child couldn’t.

Daryl opened his mouth to call out to Carol, but the woman—who had been keeping in contact with Rick and had gotten the message that Daryl was on his way—rushed down the stairs. Her eyes locked onto Daryl’s, and she gave him a warm, albeit strained, smile.

Daryl’s heart practically pounded against his ribcage. “Has she—”

“No,” Carol cut him off, a small chuckle escaping her, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “No, she hasn’t. But she’s about to any moment.”

That was all the confirmation the archer needed. Without needing to be pushed to do so, Daryl pressed past the Peletier woman, rushing up the stairs to get to the bedroom you were in. He flung the door open—the third door that day—and stepped into the room, his eyes wide. Daryl could vaguely make out two other figures in the room, those of Michonne and Siddiq, but his main focus was on you; more so on the pained expression on your face.

You looked up at Daryl, relief instantly noticable on your tear-streaked face. “Daryl...” you trailed off in a soft whisper, quietly calling for your archer to be with you, to reassure you that everything would be okay. You needed his comfort.

In one swift movement, Daryl made his way over to your side. He sat down on the bed, one of his hands immediately finding its place in yours. His other arm wrapped around your shoulders when you rested your head against his shoulder. “M’here, sweet girl,” he mumbled into your hair, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “M’so sorry I wasn’t here.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Michonne slip out of the room, and Carol walking inside and towards Siddiq.

“It’s okay. You’re here now,” you told him, sending him a smile, one that was strained due to the overwhelming pain that flooded through your body. You sat forward, out of his embrace, and let out a small cry, screwing your eyes shut in an attempt to will the pain away.

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed together. He rubbed soothing circles over your back, and he pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “M’here. I got ya. Yer doin’ so good, Sweetheart.”Your exhausted body fell back against Daryl’s chest. Your breathing was heavy and uneven, the pain in both your back and abdomen failing to cease even the slightest bit. A small whimper fell from your lips, and Daryl’s heart ached for you.

Siddiq moved forward and examined your nether area. A small smile graced the doctor’s features, and he looked up at Daryl. “Seems to me like you got here in the nick of time, Daryl.” Siddiq shifted his attention back to you, and he adapted a gentler, almost understanding smile. “You’re fully dilated, Y/N. It’s time.”

Your heart began pounding against your ribcage. Your grip on Daryl’s hand tightened considerably, fear evident on your face. “I can’t do this,” you whispered through your tears.

Daryl’s thumb rubbed soothingly over your knuckles. “Yer the strongest person I know. If there’s anyone that can do this, s’ya. Ya can do this. I know ya can. And I’mma be by yer side the whole time, alright?” When you sent him a small, grateful smile, he continued in a slightly joking tone. “‘Sides, pretty sure there ain’t no backin’ out now.”

“There’s not,” Carol commented, taking your other hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “This baby’s coming. You’re gonna meet your little one any minute now.” Her words barely had time to register in the air. Another sharp pain shot through your abdomen, making you cry out. Carol squeezed your hand again, understanding in her eyes. “Be strong, Honey. You can do this.”

You nodded, and shared a look with Daryl. “Don’t go. I can’t do this alone.”

Daryl shook his head. “I already said I ain’t goin’ nowhere, and I mean it. M’here for ya.” He placed a tender kiss to the side of your head. “I love ya, Sweetheart. Ya got this.”

His words rung through your ears, an anchor in your otherwise turmoil of a mind. However, as another cry of pain left your chest, and Siddiq told you it was time to start pushing, you prayed that his steadfast belief in you wasn’t misplaced.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Trapped (Art Donaldson/Patrick Zweig)

Description: Y/N is in love with Patrick but when she thinks that he doesn’t like her back she starts hooking up with Art who is in love with. When Patrick tells Art he likes Y/N without knowing Art and her were hooking up, Art will stop at nothing to make sure they don’t end up together.

Word Count: 3,859k

Author’s note: I didn’t put the warnings because it would be a spoiler. Also I still can’t comment anything on my own posts but I appreciate all the compliments! Thank you sm!! I don’t know why I can’t comment

When Y/N first met Art Donaldson she didn’t think anything of him. He was a well known Tennis player at Stanford and was on his way to becoming big. Art was nice and caring. But Y/N had her eyes on his best friend Patrick Zweig. Patrick was a bit of a player but had her heart. He constantly flirts with her but never makes an actual move. Resulting in Y/N and Art hooking up. Art was attractive Y/N never thought otherwise and when she realized that Patrick probably wasn’t into her she fell into the arms of Art.

Someone who was into her. But it was just sex. Great sex but still sex. After they had sex Y/N would get up and leave his dorm while Art stared at the door praying that Y/N would come to her senses and realize that he was the one for her. Y/N was his best friend besides Patrick and she never mistreated him and almost gave him everything he wanted. But yet he was ungrateful. Anytime he saw Patrick and her talking and laughing he was scared that Patrick would make the ultimate move on her that would end whatever they had going on.

Y/N was at all of his games alongside Patrick cheering him on. When he won (which was almost every time) she would give him the best blowjob of his life. “So are you and Y/N…” Patrick trailed off as him and Art ate lunch together. Art looked at him and laughed. “Why? You finally into her or something?” God he hoped not. Patrick shrugged and it took everything in Art not to drop his smile. “I feel like I should have made a move on her a long time ago.” He said, Art nodded. “Yeah she’s an amazing girl.” Art said.

“Do you think she’s still into me?” Art looked at him and shrugged. “She never talks about you.” That was a lie. Y/N constantly talked about him. To her understanding there are no feelings between her and Art. “Well I guess there’s only one way to tell.” “What are you going to do?” “Talk to her later you dumbass.” Art hummed and felt sick. He almost had everything and Patrick was going to ruin it. 

Y/N gave Art a key to her room. He had a few hoodies there that she had taken from him that he told her he wanted back. She found it odd since he never cared before but gave him the key. As he entered the room he took in the scent. He loved the smell, it reminded him of her. He wasn’t sure where the hoodies were so he went over to her dresser. That’s when he saw her birth control.

He stared at it for a good few minutes before he thought about it. If he gets her pregnant she can’t go be with Patrick. She’d have to stay with him. But that was wrong and he knew it. He grabbed the pills and put them in his Tennis bag. He found the hoodies and left her room, guilt consuming him. “So we are going to have to be extra careful when we fuck because I can’t find my birth control pills and I don’t have time to get a refill so buy some condoms.” She told him as they walked back to her dorm. “Got it.” He said. “Well I guess I’ll see ya tomorrow.” She said and he nodded. 

The next night they fucked for the first time without her being on the pill and to make matters worse Art poked a hole in the condom before she got there. He prayed that this worked. After he came he pulled out and quickly threw away the condom. “Art why does it feel like you came in me?” She asked. He looked at her confused. She reached her fingers down and gasped as she felt his cum leak out of her. “Art holy shit.” She sat up quick. “I don’t understand. I wore a condom.” He said. “It must have broke without either of us noticing.” She said and went to his bathroom to clean herself up. 

The next few weeks Art made sure not to do that for a while so it wasn’t so obvious what he was trying to do. One day Y/N didn’t show up to his game or class. He was concerned and went to check up on her. She was sick. She had been puking all morning and felt terrible. “I think maybe I’m just ill.” She said but how? Y/N was very healthy and never got sick. “I’ll take you to the doctors, come on.” Art was keeping Patrick updated on the situation. Patrick really wanted to talk to her but she was so busy. “Well Ms.Y/L/N you’re pregnant.” The doctor told her. Her jaw dropped and she felt tears in her eyes. She nodded and left the room to go find Art who was waiting in the waiting room.

He stood up as he saw her, “Are you okay?” She shook her head and started crying. He hugged her as she cried. “What’s wrong?” He asked. She pulled away from the hug and sighed, “I’m pregnant.” She whispered. He wanted to celebrate but knew that this wasn’t something planned by the both of them. “What?” He asked softly. She nodded. “And it’s yours.” He gave her a soft smile, “wow.” “Art we aren’t fit to be parents, we aren't even together.” She said.

“We could be.” He said and she shook her head. “We just fuck and I like Patrick.” That annoyed him but he kept it together. “Patrick doesn’t feel the same way Y/N plus you deserve better.” He told her. “How do you know?” She asked him, “He told me.” “No how do you know what I deserve?” He was speechless. He wanted to tell her that he loved her but wasn’t sure that was the right answer. “Can you just take me back?” She asked after silence. He nodded and they left. 

It was a few weeks before Art heard from her. She cried and sobbed for weeks not knowing what to do. Art felt terrible for what he did but he could never tell her. Patrick was upset that she was pregnant and it was by his best friend but he didn’t find that out from Art. He knocked on Y/N’s door worried about why he hadn’t seen her in a while. She answered the door and she looked like a mess. “Holy shit are you okay?” He asked her. She shook her head and let him in. “What happened?” He asked as he shut the door.

She sat on the bed and cried. He sat on the bed with her and pulled her into his chest letting her cry. He rubbed her back and tried calming her down. “Patrick I love you so much.” She said through tears. His eyes widened and he looked down at her. “I know you don’t feel the same way but I needed you to know that.” She said. He smiled and laughed, “are you kidding me? Of course I feel the same way.” Her heart broke. “I’ve been meaning to tell you for awhile now.” He said and cupped her face.

At any other time she would have been so happy and smiled but she didn’t. He leaned down to kiss her but before he could she whispered his name. “I’m pregnant with Art’s baby.” He pulled away and looked shocked. “You and Art had sex?” He asked hurt. “We’ve been hooking up for awhile now but only because I didn’t think you liked me back and he confirmed that to me.” She said. “Y/N Art told me you didn’t have feelings for me.” They both look at each other and realized. Art was a shitty friend. 

Y/N banged on Art’s door. He quickly got up and opened the door. There stood a fuming Y/N who had tears streaming down her face. “Hey where have you-“ She smacked him across the face. “You asshole.” She yelled. He was taken back by her sudden anger towards him. “You told both me and Patrick that we didn’t like each other when we did.” She yelled. “You talked to Patrick?” He asked annoyed.

“Is that all you heard? How about the fact that you’re a shitty friend?” She screamed. He looked down at her words, she was right. “Why the fuck would you lie?” She asked. He didn’t say anything and kept looking down. She pulled his chin so that they were making eye contact. “Answer me.” She yelled. “Because I love you!” He yelled back. “And I want to be with you but you want him and he doesn’t deserve you.” He yelled.

“Art, it’s not your place to say whether or not he deserves me.” She tells him. “I know but I can’t, I can’t live without you Y/N. When you told me you were pregnant I was so happy because I thought that finally we could have a shot but no matter what I see now that you will always choose him.” He had tears streaming down his face. Her eyes softened. “Art.” She whispered and walked over to him. “I get it just go be with you him. Just let me see the kid.” He said. She shook her head and cupped his face. “No.” She whispered. She leaned in and kissed him. He was shocked but kissed her back. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. This was all he ever wanted and he got it. 

Y/N finished her first years of college before dropping out. Art stayed in college and managed to become a pro in Tennis. They got a house together near campus so he could still go while she stayed at home. He worried for her and never wanted to leave her alone. Patrick and him were no longer friends. Art got Tashi Duncan as his coach who also helped Y/N. She never judged Y/N for getting pregnant at 19 unlike her family. She made it so Art could continue school and not have to worry. 

Y/N was about ready to pop any second it seemed. Her due date was near so she and Art got everything ready for when the time was to come. It would be in the middle of the night that Y/N woke up screaming in pain. Art freaked out but took her to the hospital and called Tashi. Tashi was there at the hospital as Y/N got ready to push. Art held her hand as she screamed and cried as she pushed out his baby for dear life. Art looked as he heard the baby cry and saw her. He started crying seeing his beautiful baby girl. Tashi smiled as she saw the baby and congratulated the two. 

Playing Tennis and raising a baby was hard but they managed to do it. They both always talked about how she was gonna love Tennis and want to play. She looked just like Art but was a mommy’s girl. 

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” “Yes Babe Tashi is with her, she'll be fine.” Art assured her. She smiled as they walked down the beach that her Art and Patrick used to walk down all those years ago. Their daughter was almost 2 now and everything was perfect. Well almost. Art had a ring in his pocket that he kept playing with out of nerves. “Are you okay?” Y/N asked him as she noticed how nervous he looked. He smiled and shook his head, “I’m perfect.” She smiled but Art stopped walking.

Y/N turned to him confused. “Y/N, I love you so much more than anything on this planet. I couldn’t imagine a life without you or Y/D/N.” He got down on one knee. Y/N covered her mouth with her hand as tears formed in her eyes. “Will you marry me?” He asked. She nodded and smiled, “Yes Art.” She said and pulled him up for a kiss. He smiled into the kiss and pulled away to put the ring on her finger. 

The wedding wasn’t anything crazy just a simple one with close friends and family. Their daughter was the flower girl and Tashi was her maid of honor. Y/N sighed as she stood staring in the mirror as she got her wedding dress on. She looked beautiful. “Are you nervous?” Tashi asked. Y/N looked at her and shook her head, “Nope. I’m so excited and happy.” She said and it was the truth.

She knew that her and Art were meant to be. She had no fear or cold feet. Art stood in the mirror at the same time as her except he was nervous. Y/N hadn’t seen him without his curls as he just got his haircut today. He tried to push in the back of his head what he did years ago. He sighed and stepped away from the mirror. 

Y/N’s father walked her down the aisle. She sighed and looked around at everyone in the chairs staring at her, some in awe. She looked at Art and gasped. He cut his hair. He looked really good. They smiled at each other and what felt like eternity she was finally down the aisle. She faced Art and they both stared at each other in awe. I like your hair, she mouthed to him.

He smiled and thanked her as the priest talked. The phrase “you may now kiss the bride.” Couldn’t come fast enough but when it did. They both laughed in relief and kissed. They sealed their love with a kiss and the crowd cheered. 

Art wasn’t at his best and Tashi couldn’t stop giving him shit for it. She had put him in a challenger claiming that he needed his confidence back. “She says I’m not confident enough.” Art told his wife as they got in bed. She turned to him, “Is she wrong?” He shook his head, “I don’t know.” “From what I know you’re one of the best.” She said and winked at him. He laughed and pulled her on top of him. She leaned down and kissed him. 

“Patrick Zweig is here?” He asked in anger. Tashi nodded and looked over at Y/N who didn’t look upset at all. “Yes but you can beat him.” Tashi told him. Could he though? Y/N never was sure about that but maybe all this anger he had towards Patrick would help or would it distract him? 

“I feel like she planned this.” Art said as they walked into the hotel. “Doubt it babe it’s just coincidence.” She said. It was also a coincidence that Patrick was at the same hotel at the bar. Luckily Art didn’t notice but Y/N did. “I’ll meet you back in the room I’m going to meet up with Tashi.” She told him. He kissed her and entered the elevator. Patrick didn’t see her but she walked up to him. “Patrick?” He turned around and his jaw dropped.

“Y/N.” He exclaimed and hugged her, she giggled and hugged him back. “You look amazing.” He told her. “You do too.” He did oh god he did. He looked sexy. They stared at each other for a while, no words exchanged. Patrick saw the wedding ring on her finger. “So you married him?” He asked trying to hide the disappointment. She nodded, “yeah I did.” “How’s he doing?” “Good.” He nodded. “I don’t have a lot of time Pat but I just wanted to say Hi.”

“I’m glad you did.” She walked away but he called her name again. She turned to face him, “Do you ever think about what would have happened if you never got pregnant?” She didn’t answer him she just looked down. “Goodnight Patrick.” She said and walked away. 

She stared at the ceiling wide awake as Art slept next to her. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Patrick. His question. Of course she thought about it. How could she not? It was sick to say but that was the only reason she gave Art a chance. She doesn’t regret it though but of course the what if? Crossed her mind. 

She cheered as Art won over and over again leading up to the finales. Tashi may have been hard on him but it paid off. Y/N hadn’t seen Patrick since that night. She wondered how he was doing, she never got to ask. She didn’t tell Art that she saw him let alone talked to him. That would make him more mad than he already was. It was the final game before the finals. It looked like him and Patrick would be facing off.

“Hey Art forgot his bag can you go grab it for him?” Tashi asked. She nodded and walked off to the locker room. She went to his locker and grabbed the bag. She smiled as she saw it was the one from college. She swung it over her shoulder but heard what sounded like pills? She put the bag down and looked in the bag for what that noise could possible be. She shuffled the bag again and opened the front pocket. She pulled out pills. She was confused until she realized that they were birth control pills. WTF? She thought.

She gasped when she realized that they were the ones she lost. Why did Art have them? She never took them around him. She shook her head and put them in her pocket and took the bag to Art. “Hey I’ll be right back.” She tells him and she walks away. She takes the pills out of her pocket trying to figure out why he had them. She sat on the grass and thought really hard. She gasped as she remembered how Art hated the fact that she and Patrick liked each other. He lied to both of them about the other's feelings.

Y/N remembered the time he asked for her keys and after that day she couldn’t find the pills. Art took them. She felt sick as she realized. Tears were streaming down her face as she realized that Art planned her getting pregnant. She got up and put the pills back in her pocket. “Hey.” She looked up and saw Patrick. “Hi.” He could see her teary eyes and walked up to her. “Are you okay?” He asked her. “Can you pick me up at midnight?” She ignored his question. “Sure…but are you okay?” He asked her, “we will talk about it.” She tells him and walks away. 

Art had won and was in the finals with Patrick. She hide her sickness towards him and congratulated him. Art hadn’t suspected a thing thankfully. 

“Promise me that if I lose tomorrow it won’t matter.” Art stood in the bathroom doorway. She looked at him confused. “What?” “If I lose tomorrow, promise me that it’ll be okay. We will be okay.” She stared at him, “Why wouldn’t be?” “Baby please.” “Yes Art everything will be okay. I don’t care what the outcome is tomorrow I will love you no matter what.” She tells him and unfortunately that was the truth. She’s grown to love him and even though what he did was awful she still did love him. 

Patrick smiled as he saw Y/N run to his car. She got in the passenger seat. “Drive.” He pulled away from the hotel and drove off. “You wanna tell me what this is about?” He asked. “Pull over first.” She told him. He turned into an empty parking lot and parked. He turned towards her. She looked at him and handed him the pill bottle. He looked at it, “birth control pills? Why are you giving me these?” He asked her.

“I was taking those all through high school and college and never once missed a beat.” She tells him. “Okay?” She sighed, “Remember when I got pregnant?” He nodded. “Art took those from me so it would happen.” Patrick’s jaw dropped, “what? Are you sure?” She nodded. “I found those in his Tennis bag he had from college, he brought it with him and I never took those in front of him. One night I give him my key so he can take back his hoodies and after that I couldn’t find them.” “He hated that we liked each other.” Patrick said, “he lied about it Patrick.

He wanted this. Hell when I went to his room to confront him he guilt tripped me. I wasn’t going to be with him just cuz he got me pregnant. I loved you.” She exclaimed. “Y/N?” She looked at him, “do you still have feelings for me?” 

Patrick looked over at Y/N as he bounced the ball. Y/N kept a straight face as he bounced the ball a few times. Art watched as Patrick put the ball to the center of the racket. Art’s face dropped and he looked at Y/N. She wasn’t even looking at him. He looked at Patrick who nodded and smirked. “Fuck off.” He yelled. Patrick hit the ball and Art didn’t hit it back. Y/N held back tears as she watched Art’s world crumble. Why did she feel bad for him? 

Y/N hugged Patrick after they both came down from their highs. He inhaled her sweet scent. “I’ve dreamt about doing that.” He said in her neck. “In your stinky car?” She joked. He chuckled, “not exactly but it works.” He said and pulled away from her neck. She kissed him and it wasn’t full of lust. No it wasn’t something else. Love? He kissed back. 

They played Tennis like they hadn’t played Tennis before. And it was a great scene. Art was definitely angered but felt like it was deserved. Patrick was on top of the world that he got to sleep with Y/N. It was a crazy thing when at first it wasn’t clear who won. 

Y/N laid on Patrick’s chest as they laughed. “So you and Art had a secret way of telling each other when you fucked someone?” She asked. He nodded, “Yup. I almost wanna do it tomorrow.” “Will he know it’s about me?” “He should.” “Do it then.” Patrick looked down at her, shocked. “Really?” She nodded and looked up at him. “But I still love him.” She said softly and Patrick nodded. 

Art entered the hotel room with Y/N walking behind him. “So Patrick and you?” He asked. She nodded, “Why?” She took out the pills and gave them to him. His face turned more white than it already was. “How did you find these?” He asked her. “Your tennis bag is the same one from college.” She told him. “You hate me now don’t you?” He asked softly. She shook her head, “ No. I should but I don’t.” He looked up at her with relief. “You’re a piece of shit Art.” She tells him and his face drops. “But I’m willing to forgive you if we can add Patrick into our relationship. I’m not an idiot, I know you two had a thing for each other.”

[lost-in-fandoms]

this post made me have thoughts

cw: sexual content, alcohol mention (but they're not drunk and fully into it)

Daniel and Max are at the same party. Doesn't matter if they're famous and hanging out with friends or just dudes being bros. Someone brings up this idea and everyone agrees, even if not everyone is like super happy.

Max isn't super happy, because he knows he's on the smaller sides of things, but it's whatever, nobody will really know who's the smallest, only the biggest, so he agrees.

Some guys go in and out, and then Daniel goes in. And doesn't come out. Keeps not coming out. When it's Max's turn he goes in and Daniel is just chilling sitting on the bathtub edge, sipping his wine, and bopping to the music. Smiling at him. Max feels hot under his collar and he hopes and prays he doesn't get hard in front of Daniel.

Daniel says something like "all right, Maxy?" and then just. takes out his dick. and it's big, like big big. Max has seen his fair amount of dicks, has had some inside him, but never this big. He immediately starts thinking about how it would feel, if Daniel would need to stretch him out with four fingers before pushing in, if he would even be able to take it. How it would feel on his tongue, in his mouth.

He's getting hard, so he just takes out his dick and doesn't even look down. Doesn't want to see the size difference. Instead he looks at Daniel, and sees his face change, something in his eyes shift.

Then he swallows, puts his dick away and says "you win" and flees.

Daniel is the last guy in the bathroom. He gets showered in jokes and shoulder pats, but for some reason refuses the alcohol he gets offered. Keeps looking at Max. Max is trying very hard to stay away from him, can't stop thinking about his dick, and he knows it's wrong, because this was a game, he wasn't supposed to think about Daniel's dick like that.

But he can't stop.

He ends up excusing himself earlier than most, saying he has to be up the next morning, and when he's outside, waiting for a car, he lays against the wall and lets his head drop back, bumping against it, trying to breathe.

When he opens his eyes again, he find Daniel getting out of the house too.

Daniel who looks at him like he's also thinking about Max's dick, which is absurd, because Max's dick is small and pink and was half hard when Daniel saw it.

Daniel makes some kind of joke about it and for a second Max thinks Daniel is making fun of him, but then Daniel says "I wouldn't mind having a second peek."

Turns out, Daniel is just as crazy about Max's tiny dick as Max is about Daniel's big dick.

They go home, and Daniel moans when he touches Max's dick, which he can hold whole in his palm, and then moans again when Max sucks him off, barely able to take half of him before gagging, and then moans again when after a very thorough prep he sinks into Max. And Max just. Takes it. Loves it. Comes even before Daniel is all the way in and then asks Daniel to keep going. Comes again when Daniel comes inside him.

And then they kiss kiss fall in love goodbye

[420technoblazeit]

i just saw a radioapple animatic to a lovely night from la la land and i think it just hit me why i don't ship alastor and lucifer. i think it's infinitely funnier if instead of having the classic enemies to lovers dynamic there really is just hatred between them but all of hell is CONVINCED otherwise

like obviously given that theyre both father figures to charlie there's already rumors circulating but picture this. everyone in the hotel saw how close those two got during their duet so theyre like well maybe there's something there🤨🏳️‍🌈? but lucifer walks into the room after the hotel's been rebuilt and alastor immediately gets up off the couch to leave. but before he can even make it halfway there lucifer trips on nothing and somehow ends up IN his arms. straight out of a romance manga. and it only takes them half a second to get to opposite ends of the room but by that point angel's already taken 12 pictures and posted it on twitter and an hour later it's trending because of course it is. the radio demon and the king of hell are living together and theyve been spotted in such a compromising position? how scandalous! whatever, theyre both public figures so they both hope it brushes over quickly enough

but the worst part is it keeps happening. alastor goes to take a smoke break in the middle of the night and finds lucifer there on the roof. and when he tries to get back inside the door locks behind him and they have to call charlie to let them back in. but by that time a vox drone has already taken a video of the whole thing. they get into a fight at some point and someone walks in right as it was getting heated and thinks they were going to kiss. they were not. alastor just got so pissed that he was about to headbutt lucifer with his antlers. it's like theyre under some kind of romance trope spell and it's absolutely INFURIATING to both of them

all of the tabloids are running stories on this. it's the opening subject of every overlord meeting and alastor has to FIGHT to keep smiling every time as he insists there's nothing there. vox bursts into val's room in tears because he thinks his worst nightmare's come true and alastor's fucking the king of hell. everybody's terrified of what the fallout would be if they ever broke up. half the sinners are convinced that any day the hotel's just going to explode. no one believes in god anymore but it's the one thing that makes them start praying. but there actually is NOTHING there they just can't get anyone to believe otherwise. and neither of them has the heart to yell at charlie for continuously trying to push them together

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

Hello dear, "will you pray for me" will have a second part? bc the first is magnificent 😋🫣

WILL YOU PRAY FOR ME? ( House of the Dragon x Reader ) Pt. 2

AUTHOR NOTE! Yes. I need to write more of Aegon so that I can make the perfect mix of TV SHOW and BOOK! Aegon for my fic, 'THE CONQUEROR REBORN'. [ Yes that is me shamelessly promoting it. Check out the link for it in my previous posts. ] <3 pairing: DARK! Aegon ii Targaryen x Fem! Hightower! Reader prompt: Aegon returns back from the Battle of Rook's Rest, seeking comfort from his bride-to-be. Only then does chaos ensure. word count: 1, 298+ words

As soon as he had left the Sept. You prayed, and prayed, and prayed to whoever would listen to your sobs and prayers. It did not matter if it was the Gods of Old, New or the forgotten ones. A twisted part of you praying that Aegon did not survive the battle, that he would be dead. That you would be spared of being his second wife. You did not wish for it. To be married to him nonetheless, not when the glint in his eyes made it clear that it would not be a pleasant marriage. 

When the aching of your knees grew too much from praying for hours on end, you returned to the Red Keep. Hoping that Alicent or even Otto would confirm it was Aegon playing a cruel jest on you. But, when Alicent burst into tears, begging you to forgive her for not protecting you hard enough. It was then that you realized Aegon was being serious. Dead serious.

You would be his bride, his little thing, the thing he would use to warm his bed, to do whatever he wished. Not unless you found a way out of it, one that would keep your reputation still in tack. So lying about being a maiden would not work. Then, it clicked, a betrothal. 

Aegon would not be able to protest if you were already promised to another. The new task came in finding someone to marry you. Someone of decent standing, who would be willing to offer just enough protection from Aegon. That’s where Lord Redwyne came in. From a good House and standing, kind and loyal. A good ally to the Green’s. To lose him would be a costly thing. It was perfect. You were saved. 

Holding the hand of Lord Redwyne, you give him a gentle smile, happy that he was willing to take the burden of protecting you from Aegon. No matter how many times you had said your thanks, it felt like it would not be enough. Not many men would dare to do something like this for a woman, many saw women as things, not people. So for him to do such a thing showed that he either cared, or it was a matter of pride and defending his honor. 

Watching as the carriage slowly pulls into the courtyard, you shift in place, fear bubbling up within you. You did not know how Aegon would react. Would he yell? Would he get violent? Would he demand of you both to be thrown into the Black Cells? Feeling a gentle kiss be placed on your knuckles, you turn your head away, feeling at ease at the caring gaze of Lord Redwyne. Instantly feeling better, you look back, watching a now injured Aegon limp out of the carriage. 

“Rook’s Rest is ours. Now, where is Y/n, I wish to see my bride.” Aegon states, a smug grin tugging at his lips. 

“Aegon, let us speak⎯” Alicent tries to interfere.

“No, Mother. Where is she?” Aegon cuts in, his voice cold. 

Not daring to speak up, you look him over carefully. His left side was wrapped in bandages, with tiny specs of burnt flesh peaking through. His armor was charred only on the left side, leaving you to guess that he had been attacked on the left side on dragonback. Feeling his predatory gaze shift onto you, you resist the urge to cower, using Lord Redwyne as a shield. 

“What is this?” Aegon states an unnerving lack of emotion in his voice. 

“I am betrothed to Lord Redwyne, your grace. I am unable to marry you as my hand is already taken, your grace.” You explain, hoping it would be enough to deter him.

“No.” He states, “No.” 

No? Was he honestly just saying no like it would change anything?

“Ser Cristion, kill Lord Redwyne, dispose of his body how you see fit. Lady Y/n will be coming with me to my chambers.” Aegon states, almost as if he was speaking of weather and not murder. 

Feeling the blood drain from your face at his casual orders, you turn to Ser Cristion, the Hand just as equally shell shocked. He was not serious, was he? He wouldn’t dare to kill Lord Redwyne, an ally of his, someone that he needed to win the war. This could not be happening. Looking between a stone-faced Aegon and Ser Crisiton, nobody moves or says a word. 

It was just palpable tension in the air that brewed in the stillness. Glancing over to Lord Redwyne, he only stares Aegon down, the two clearly size each other up. Surprisingly, Lord Redwyne doesn’t back down, still standing toe-to-toe with Aegon. Which only made the darkness in Aegon’s eyes grow more and more. 

“You can either break the betrothal with Lady Y/n and leave a living man, or I will kill you myself and still take her as my wife.” Aegon states, cutting the silence. 

No. No. No. This could not be happening. This was supposed to be your escape. Your way of getting rid of him.

“I suggest you pick the latter..” Aegon adds, “Before I decide that mercy is below me.”

“Your grace, you cannot be⎯”

“No, no, I am. Now, like I said, leave before I decide that mercy is below me.” Aegon argues, a dead serious look on his face. 

Looking at Lord Redwyne, you prayed that he would not back down, that he would stand up for you and refuse to let you become Aegon’s second wife. Feeling tears tickle up in your eyes, Lord Redwyne pulls your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles. There was a glint, a glint of regret and sorry in his eyes and you just knew. He was going to leave you. 

He mutters a quick, ‘I am sorry, my Lady.’, before swiftly leaving you with Aegon.

“No..” You whisper, your voice so soft that it nearly went unnoticed. 

“Wise choice, Lord Redwyne.” Aegon smirks, the feeling of doom crashing down on you.

“No..” You whisper, a single tear falling down your cheek. 

Holding back the tears that continued to bubble in your eyes, it took everything in you to not start sobbing as realty crashed down on you. No one, not even the most honorable men, would be willing to protect you from Aegon. You would be his bride. It would be happening whether you liked it or not. 

Feeling a bandaged finger brush against your cheek, you are snapped back to reality, remembering who stands next to you. Turning your head to go over and look at him, there is a smug smirk tugging at his lips, the healing burn scar just above his left eyebrow only making him look more sinister. 

“Come, my little bride. I need someone to tend to my wounds.” Aegon orders, dragging you by the wrist. 

----

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[ohmyamor]

Richkid!Ateez

a/n: no jongho in this because it was a request inspired by my original richkid jongho post as well as part 2.

hongjoong

you first met hongjoong when you stumbled upon him in an empty classroom long after school had ended

as the vice president for the arts club, you, along with the president of the club, were tasked with gathering some extra supplies

the two of you had gone to the administration to ask for more funding to buy some new supplies, ones that didn't look like they had been run through by a pack of first graders

but admin didn't seem to particularly care for such trivial things like the arts

dismissing you quite quickly and telling you to look for extra supplies around the school

and so, you and the president were tasked with going through every singly empty classroom in hopes of scrounging together some decent supplies

the president had taken the east side of the school, while you looked on the west side in hopes of covering more ground

dragging your feet, you walked towards the last classroom of your side of the school

so far, you had only managed to find a few more packs of colored pencils and markers

and although it wasn't anything remarkable, you were grateful to have found anything in the first place

so with low hopes, you prayed that you would be able to find something else in the last room

slamming the door open, you jump when you make eye contact with someone sitting in the middle of the room

all the desks are pushed to the sides of the room quite messily

some of the chairs are knocked over, like someone pushed them away in a rush and never bothered to pick it up

and in the middle of the mess sits Kim Honjoong

in front of him on the ground is a large black jacket that's spread out, different colored paints and markers surrounding him

of course, you know who he is

it's kind of hard not to

his family runs one of the biggest banks in the country, and they sent him to this school in hopes of properly preparing him to take over the family business

but (according to the rumors) Hongjoong had all but stuck his middle finger in his family's faces, slacking off and doing everything in his power to avoid learning anything about business and money

you had heard rumors that he was quite artistic, and looking at the beautifully painted jacket that lays on the ground in front of him, you believe the rumors are true

"Oh," you say awkwardly when Hongjoong looks up from his project to stare at you

"uh, sorry, I didn't think anyone else would still be here," you explain

Hongjoong tilts his head to side

"I like working here because no one ever uses this classroom so I can keep all my supplies safe," he gestures to the loads of paints that surround him

you nod, still feeling a little bit bad about walking in on him

"okay, well, I'm gonna go now," you point behind you and begin to close the door

"wait!"

you pause, peering into the classroom once again

"what are you doing here so late?" Hongjoong raises his eyebrow

"I'm part of the art club and we need more supplies, but this stupid school doesn't think the arts are worth their money," you roll your eyes, "so, we're stuck looking for extra ones in the empty classrooms."

"no offense," you add, realizing you just called this very prestigious school stupid in front of a kid who comes from a very prestigious family

Hongjoong cracks a small smile

"no offense taken"

it's quiet for another moment

"I didn't realize we had an art club," Hongjoong comments

you nod

"yeah, the school doesn't really like us promoting it. I'm pretty sure it's because they want everyone to join the fencing club or whatever rich people do on their free time," you joke

you can't help but feel a little bit proud at the way Hongjoong throws his head back in laughter

"maybe I'll join," he says once his laughter has died down

you're a little shocked, but do your best not to let it show on your face

"well, we meet every Thursday after school," you tell him

"just don't expect us to have all your fancy paints and stuff, we're on a budget"

Hongjoong giggles before sending you a cocky smile

"don't worry, I know some people who would love to make a very generous donation to the art club"

it's about a week later when you and your president get called into the office

the principal seems annoyed, tossing you guys a piece of paper that you soon realize is a check

grabbing it off the desk, you and the president can't help but stare with wide eyes and gaping mouths at the number of zeroes you see written

"wh-who donated this?" your president asks, completely floored

"The Kim family," replies your principal, muttering a "surprisingly" under their breath

later that day during lunch, you happen to pass by Hongjoong who's talking with his group of friends

the two of you make eye contact and he sends you a wink

looking away, you bite back the smile that threatens to appear on your face

seonghwa

"ohmygodimsofucked" you breathe out harshly, running through the doors of the building

you grip your bag tightly, praying that your stuff doesn't fall out of the small hole on the bottom

your cat had taken it upon herself to use it as a personal scratching post

although you're pretty sure she did it because she was mad that you started limiting her on how many treats she ate

you're not one for fat-shaming, but she was getting pretty chunky

your shoes squeak as you book it past different classrooms, ignoring the weird looks from the students inside of them

you were already late for your exam, and you had three minutes to make it to class before you exceeded the 10-minute grace period your teacher allowed on test days

you can already see the door at the very end of the hall and mentally cheer

almost there, almost there, almost the-

"what are you doing?"

you let out a scream as you feel the tip of your shoe scrape the ground, sending you hurdling forward

you shove your arms out in front of you and allow the palms of your hands to break the momentum of your fall

"ow" you wince, feeling the sharp sting from the tile flooring

"oh my goodness, are you okay?"

at the familiar voice, you look up, only to see none other than Park Seonghwa staring at you with concern

oh fuck

Park Seonghwa, top student in your grade and the entire school, teacher fan-favorite, and hall monitor

of course, not that Seonghwa was mean or anything

he has a reputation for being quite nice, causing all the students to love him

not to mention his other-worldly beauty

the amount of chocolate he gets on Valentine's Day could rival how much they sell at candy stores

but, he is also known for being quite serious when it comes to attendance and tardiness

whenever he catches students ditching class or being late, he has no problem lecturing them and giving them after school detention

which you absolutely cannot afford today because you have to go pick up your younger brother from his school across town

"excuse me?" his voice pulls you out of your worries

"huh?" you answer, staring at him wide-eyed

"are you okay?" Seonghwa stares at you concerned

"that was a pretty nasty fall," he comments, glancing down at the way you clench your hands to try and stop the stinging

reaching out, Seonghwa gently touches your hand

"May I?," he asks, looking up at you through his eyelashes

you can't reply, absolutely shocked at what's happening, only managing to give him a small nod

he ever so gently opens your hands and winces at the sight of your bright red and scratched up palms

without saying a word, Seonghwa brings his backpack to his front and opens the smallest pocket, rummaging around inside of it before letting out a satisfied hum and pulling something out

it's a cat band-aid

you can't stop the small "cute" that escapes your mouth at the sight of it

Seonghwa's face turns red

"they were the only ones left at the store," he mutters as he begins to carefully place the bandages on your hands

he says sorry when you let out a hiss at the sting

once he's done, Seonghwa helps you stand up and holds your bag out to you

"how come you're in such a rush?" he questions

you glance down at your phone, sighing when you realize that you've missed the 10 minute mark

"I had an exam today and my teacher allows us a ten minute grace period, so I was hoping I would make it," you explain, "but I already missed it."

Seonghwa frowns at the way you look so disappointed

"what class is it for?"

"statistics with Snow"

Seonghwa perks up at the mention of your teacher's name

"Snow? I had him last year, he loves me. If you want, I can tell him I needed your help with something and ask him to let you re-take the test, I'm pretty sure he'll say yes."

you stare at him, absolutely floored

"you would do that?"

what happened to the scary hall monitor everyone spreads rumors about?

Seonghwa hesitates, but nods

"I feel bad about scaring you and causing you to fall, which ultimately led to you missing class," he frowns

"I-Thank you, Seonghwa, I do't even know what to say," you tell him honestly

once again, a light pink flush makes its way onto Seonghwa's face

"y-yeah, of course"

taking a look at his watch, Seonghwa says something that shocks you even more

"well, since you aren't going to class, do you want to go with me to the convenience store down the block?"

did you hear that correctly?

not only is the Park Seonghwa letting you off the hook, he also bandaged your hands, offered to lie to your teacher to let you retake your exam, and now he's asking if you want to ditch for part of the day to go to the convenience store

what the fuck is going on today?

"I'm sorry, is the school's top student asking me if I want to ditch?" you can't help but tease

Seonghwa pouts slightly, crossing his arms

"I mean, I can just give you detention instead, if you want"

shaking your head no, you tell him that you'd be more than happy to go with him

"well then, let's go," he smiles, offering his arm to you, and the two of you begin making your way out of the building

yunho

you’re in your first period of the day, a chill class where your teacher allows everyone to do whatever they need/want

you sit quietly at your desk, working on some homework

some students around you do the same, while others chat quietly with their friends and some even use the time to sneak in a few more minutes of sleep

you’re so focused on completing this assignment that you don’t notice the student aid that walks into the classroom and hands your teacher a note

you only look up when the teacher calls your name

he motions you to come up to his desk

nervously, you place your pencil down and make your way to the front

“Looks like we have a new student and the office wants you to show him around,” your teacher explains, handing you the office note

you wordlessly take it from him, looking down at the paper

“Go ahead and grab your things, I’ll let your other teachers know that you might be late for your next class.”

nodding, you walk back to your desk to quickly pack up your things before heading out

once you reach the office, you walk in, sending a kind smile to the ladies who work in the front

one of them nods her head towards the principal’s room and you thank her before making your way over

knocking on the door, you wait until you hear the principal’s “come in” before opening the door and stepping inside

“Ah, (Y/n), thank you for coming in,” your principal smiles

“This is Jeong Yunho, he’s our newest student who just transferred from a different school district.”

the boy stands up from the chair and reaches out his hand

you shake it, slightly taken aback at his height

he’s incredibly tall, with black dyed hair, and yet, despite his intimidating stature, his face is kind

“Nice to me you Yunho,” you greet politely

he smiles a bit shyly, giving you a quiet hello and looking away

“As one of our top and most involved students, I knew you would be the best choice to guide Yunho around the school and help him get adjusted,” your principal smiles.

she claps her hands together

“So go ahead you two. Yunho, don’t worry, you’re in great hands with our (Y/n) here and I hope you have an excellent first day,” she smiles before ushering the two of you out

you and Yunho stand outside in the hallway, an awkward silence overcoming the both of you

“Can I see your schedule?” You ask politely

he nods, reaching into his pocket and digging out the paper

you scan your eyes over it, humming when you notice that you share most of your classes with him

“Well you’re in luck,” you send him a smile. “Looks like we share most of our classes so you can just follow me around for today.”

“Great,” Yunho replies, the tips of his ears turning slightly red

and so throughout the day, you guide Yunho to your shared classes, telling him what buildings are for which classes and some of the best spots for some quiet time

his last two classes of the day are different from yours, so you take it upon yourself to get a campus map and label where his classes are going to be

as the bell rings for lunch, you take your time packing up your things

most of the students have already filed out of the classroom by the time you’re done

and you can’t help but jump when you look up and notice Yunho standing in front of your desk

“Oh, Yunho, is everything okay?” you ask

he nods

“Yeah everything’s great, but I, uh-” his eyes flicker around nervously

“I was wondering if we could have lunch together? I don’t really know anyone else,” he admits, a shy smile taking over his face

you think about it for a second before nodding

“Yeah of course we can. But I’m sure by the end of the week you’ll have your own little group to hang out with, so don’t worry,” you reassure him

Yunho doesn’t admit that he quite enjoys spending his day with you

and so you two eat lunch together, sitting side by side in the courtyard and chatting, getting to know each other

by the time the lunch period ends, Yunho can’t help but pout

“We don’t have anymore classes together right?”

you shake your head

“No but I’m sure you’ll do great,” you send him a reassuring smile

he frowns for a split second and seems to curl into himself slightly before an idea pops into his head

“Let’s go eat after school!” he suggests cheerfully

You pause

“What?”

“After school, my family’s driver is picking me up, so if you don’t have anything to do, let’s go eat together!”

“I don’t know about that,” you trail off

you figured he would be tired of you by now, but offering to go eat together after school?

“C’mon, I’ll even pay,” Yunho attempts to bribe you

he can see the hesitance on your face and gently touches your arm

“I really enjoy hanging out with you (Y/n),” he stares into your eyes

“And I’d love it if we can become friends rather than going our separate ways.”

you feel your chest warm at his words

and the way Yunho stares at you with wide, starry eyes makes you falter

you sigh

“Alright, let’s hang out after school,” you relent

“Meet me here after your last class and we can leave together.”

Yunho’s smile is breathtaking and you have to force yourself to look away

maybe this won’t be too bad you think

yeosang

out of all your classes, you think this one has to be your favorite

orchestra

you’ve been playing cello for as long as you could remember, and to be able to take a class solely dedicated to the instrument is perfect

you sit in the corner of the room where you and few other cello players have set up, watching as your instructor claps her hands

“Okay students, as you know, our spring recital is coming up.”

a few of the students cheer and a smile takes over the instructor’s face

“This year, we've decided to do things a little differently. Rather than having student solos, I thought it would be a great idea to have you guys do duets with your classmates.”

there’s mixed reactions, some students groaning while others look excitedly at their friends

“But, before you all get excited, I already went ahead and paired each of you up with a player of a different instrument.”

this time, more groans ring out throughout the room

you fidget in your seat slightly

while you don’t particularly love this idea, it’s also not necessarily the worst thing that could happen

meanwhile, the instructor has already begun to read off pairs of names

“Yeosang and (Y/n)”

you blink

Yeosang?

as in, the best violinist in your school?

oh fuck

you look around the room before finding the back of his head

his long blonde hair is styled nicely, and you watch as he reaches a hand up to gently push some of his hair behind his ear

if you weren’t nervous before, you’re definitely nervous now

once your instructor has finished reading off the pairs, she allows you all to break and get together with your partner

you sit and fidget with your bag, unsure if you should make your way over to Yeosang, or if he’s coming to you

the sound of someone clearing their throat causes you to look up

Yeosang stands in front of you, hand gripping the case for his violin

“(Y/n), right?”

you nod

“Looks like we’re partners,” he says slightly awkwardly

you nod once again, unable to look him directly in the eyes

“Okay, well, I think it would be best if we meet up after school to practice together. Meet me in the main parking lot and we can go over to my house.”

his house??

you clear your throat before replying, “okay that sounds good."

Yeosang gives you a curt nod before the bell rings and he makes his way out of the classroom

after school, you stand alone in the almost empty parking lot

next to you is your cello case and in your hands is a box of chocolate croissants one of your friends had given you

where is he? you think, beginning to get a little nervous at the thought that Yeosang might've forgotten about you

you're about to begin walking away when you spot him running out of the doors

by the time he gets to you, his normally pristine hair is slightly messy and out of place, and he pants hard

you resist the urge to fix his hair for him

"Sorry about that," Yeosang apologizes once he's regained his breath

"One of my teachers asked me to stay back to help him with something and I hadn't realized how late it had gotten," he admits sheepishly

you wave him off, letting him know it's not a big deal

"I thought you might've forgotten about me," you joke

Yeosang shakes his head

"never."

before you even have a chance to comprehend his answer, he's reaching out to pick up your cello case

you frantically try to stop him from picking it up, but he gently shoos away your hands

"I'm stronger than I look, lovely"

he guides you to his car where he carefully puts away your instruments, opening the passenger door for you and getting settled himself

once the two of you reach his house, you watch in slight awe as the large gates to the property open up

pulling up to the very front door, Yeosang begins to get out of the car and you follow, clutching the box of sweets

you watch as he hands a man in a suit the car keys before guiding you inside the house

"If you don't mind me asking," he starts. "What are those?" he gestures to the pink box in your hand

"Oh!" you look down

"A friend of mine gave me some chocolate croissants during our last period."

you push the box towards him

"Feel free to have some, as a thank you for letting me practice here and for the ride"

with a small smile, Yeosang thanks you and reaches into the box, grabbing one and pulling it out

you grab one for yourself as well before the two of you get started on learning the music sheets

it's a few minutes later when you look up at Yeosang and let out a small laugh

he has chocolate smeared on the side of his mouth and he even managed to get some on the tip of his nose

"I'm guessing the croissant was good?" you gesture to the small mess on his face

pulling his phone out, he looks in his camera and begins to turn red

you laugh even louder, reaching into your backpack to pull out a tissue

you lean across the table, getting close to Yeosang's face and ever so gently wiping off the chocolate

when you finally move away, Yeosang doesn't know if his face is red from the embarrassment or from having you so close to him

san

"c'monnnn, you have to go to at least one of their games before we graduate!" your friend pesters you about attending the school's baseball game this upcoming Friday

sure, a lot of the boys on the team are nice to look at

but between academics, extra curricular's, and family obligations, you don't really have time to be going to watch boys in tight pants run around a field

you roll your eyes, shoving her off from where she's draped herself on your shoulder

"I really don't" you reply dryly, taking a bite of your sandwich

your friend rolls her eyes

"whatever, if you think I'm gonna give up on trying to convince you then you're sorely mistaken"

she grins, and you wince

you know better than anybody that when she puts her mind to something, she always gets what she wants

the bell signaling the end of the lunch period rings and you begin to pack up your lunch

"I'll meet you after school for our volunteer hours!" your friend waves goodbye as she begins heading towards her class

you wave back and continue packing up

you sling your backpack over your shoulder, beginning the walk to the science building

just as you turn the corner, you crash into something hard

you let out a small "oof" and stumble back

before you're able to fall on your ass, a hand reaches out and grabs you by the arm, helping to stabilize you

you look up to see who you crashed into

Choi San

star player of the baseball team and the it boy of the school

"I'm so sorry!" he apologizes, eyes wide

you wave him off

"it's okay, I wasn't looking where I was going either."

he bites the inside of his cheek and tilts his head

"I don't think I've seen you around before, what's your name?"

you hesitate a little

you're a scholarship student, and while you're very proud of how your work ethic that has gotten you this scholarship to such a fancy school

you can't help but be a little nervous telling one of the most popular and wealthy students in the school who you are

"(Y/n)" you eventually reply when San's eyes won't leave yours

his eyes light up

"I thought you looked familiar! You're one of the top students in our entire grade"

you feel your face get warm and look down at your shoes

"uh, yeah, that's me"

"do you think you could help me in my language class?" San questions

you blink, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth

"uhhhh"

quite frankly, you have a lot on your plate

and you're not sure you can handle taking on another student to tutor

"I promise I'm not a lost cause!" San all but begs

"I'm just a few points away from being suspended from playing on the team and I really can't stand the idea of not playing," he rubs the back of his neck nervously

San stares at you with such hope in his eyes that you can't find it in yourself to say no

so you sigh and relent, nodding your head as San breaks into a wide smile

you notice the dimples that pop up on his cheeks when he grins

cute

"thank you thank you thank you!"

he glances down at his phone before letting out a small "oh shit"

"class is about to start, I should get going,"

"Thank you again (Y/n), for agreeing to tutor me, I really do appreciate it"

just as he begins walking away, he pauses and turns back around

"Are you coming to our game this Friday?"

"I'm not really a huge sports person," you admit. "So, probably not."

San pouts and you immediately feel the need to take back your response

"But I guess I can try making it to one."

oh your friend is never going to let you live this down

another blinding smile makes its way onto his face

"I promise to play my best to make it worth your time."

San sends you a wink

"I gotta impress my pretty tutor"

mingi

you stand awkwardly next to your dad, staring at Mingi

when your dad had mentioned that one of his friends suggested this "really great mechanic" in the neighborhood who was also "kinda young", the thought that it might be someone in your grade had never even crossed your mind

you honestly didn't even think it would be a possibility

"oh, do you two know each other?" your dad asks, looking back and forth between you and Mingi

"sort of?" you reply hesitantly

sure, you knew who he s

one of the wealthiest, smartest, hottest kids in your grade

but the two of you weren't friends by any means

the most interacting you had done was a brief "sorry" when you guys had bumped into each other in the hallway that one time

you were brought out of your thoughts when Mingi sent your dad a bright smile, reaching forward to shake his hand

"Hi sir, I'm Mingi, I share a couple of classes with (Y/n)."

he knows my name?

your dad nods, seeming impressed by the boy's manners

"well, I'm here because I've been having some car trouble and a friend of mine recommended you. I was hoping you could spare some time to take a look at it," he pats the hood of the car

Mingi nods

"Of course sir. As long as nothing's causing major issues, I should be able to get it back to you in two days," Mingi says, taking a glance at the vehicle. "I'm a little backed up with appointments right now, but I promise to try my best to get it done as fast as possible"

your dad nods

"Thanks, son."

a grin makes its way onto your dad's face

"And just remember, I know what school you go to if you do anything to hurt my baby."

you groan, missing the way Mingi's eyes dart to you rather than the car

"I would never," Mingi replies seriously

"daaaaaad" you shove his shoulder slightly, feeling your face heat up

facing Mingi, you apologize for you dad's comments

the last thing you need is for his parents to show up at your house questioning you as to why your father decided to threaten their son

just then, the sound of a phone ringing begins to echo through the small garage

pulling his phone out of his pocket, you watch your dad's eyebrows furrow as he reads the name of the caller

"give me a second kids," he says, bringing the phone up to his ear and stepping out of the garage to answer the call

once the door is shut, you look back at Mingi, who, to your surprise, is already staring at you

"I'm sorry about that," you apologize once again. "He's pretty serious about his car, doesn't like to let a lot of people touch it."

Mingi nods understandingly

"No worries, I get it. I guess I should be honored he trusted me enough to bring it here," he grins

taking a look around, you can't help but be a little impressed by how legit everything looks

not that you know much about mechanic shops

"So, I didn't know you were also a mechanic outside of school," you mention. "I thought your parents would want you to focus on business and stuff like that."

Mingi's ears turn warm and he brings an arm up to rub the side of his neck

"That's because they don't really know I do this," he admits

your mouth drops open

"How do you manage to run all of this on your own without them finding out?"

he shrugs

"'s not hard when they're never home in the first place."

you frown

"but don't feel bad," Mingi continues, noticing the look on your face. "This is something I really enjoy doing and I'm glad I can do this all on my own."

the way Mingi's face brightens up when talking about something he's so obviously passionate about makes your heart feel fuzzy

before you can say anything else, the door to the garage opens and your dad walks back in

"Sorry sweetheart, but we're gonna have to get going. The guys back at the office are having trouble sorting this deal out and they need my help," your dad rolls his eyes

"Thanks again, son, for helping me out. Whenever my car's ready just go ahead and let my daughter know since you guys see each other at school anyways," your dad places a hand on your shoulder

"I didn't sign up to be your messenger," you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest

Mingi lets out a deep laugh

"Of course, sir"

your dad begins walking out after saying goodbye to Mingi, and you follow, pausing at the door to look back at him

"Bye Mingi," you smile, sending him a small wave

"Bye (Y/N), I'll see you in class," he calls out

once the two of you leave, Mingi gets to work taking a look at your dad's car

maybe, just maybe, this car will finally give him the chance to talk to you more

wooyoung

you and Wooyoung had actually been best friends for as long as you could remember

when you were younger, your mom had been hired by Wooyoung’s family to tutor him in any and all subjects

as she was a single mom and couldn’t always afford babysitting, she would often times bring you along with her when she went to Wooyoung’s family’s house

most of the time you would sit quietly on one of the large couches and work on homework or color

but one day, a small Wooyoung had managed to sneak away from your mom and come see you

he’d always see his tutor coming in and out of the house alongside a young girl around his age, but he never actually saw you up close or talked to you

and so, as any child would do, his curiosity got the better of him and he went out in search of answers

despite the initial scare he gave you when he screamed “BOO” in your ear, the two of you had gotten along quite nicely

after his tutoring sessions and when you were done with homework, your mom and Wooyoung’s parents would watch with fond eyes as you two chased each other around the large backyard

as you both grew up, and even when your mom stopped needing to tutor him, the two of you remained incredibly close

it’s how you were even able to attend this fancy school in the first place

the tuition certainly cost an arm and a leg, something your mom would never be able to afford on her own

but Wooyoung’s parents insisted that you attend as well, saying it was one of the best schools in the country and they would put in a good word for you

they also took it upon themselves to cover the cost of your tuition, saying that at least this way, they knew you would keep an eye on their son

and so you and Wooyoung had fallen into a comfortable routine with each other, knowing the other person inside and out

so when one day you were late leaving your last class, Wooyoung couldn’t help but grow slightly concerned

you’re an incredibly punctual person, and even on the rare occasion that you would be late, you always made sure to let him know ahead of time

tapping his foot on the pavement anxiously, Wooyoung leaned against his sleek back car and glanced at his watch

“Where is she?” he muttered to himself

only the sound of your laughter caused him to look up

you were finally walking towards him, but next to you was a boy

Wooyoung stared hard at the guy next to you, watching with distaste as you waved bye a little too enthusiastically to him before skipping over to the car

“Who was that?” he asks, intrigued and annoyed at the same time

“Oh, he’s in my statistics class,” you reply vaguely

Wooyoung stares at you, noticing the way you seemed to fidget nervously and the way you kept rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet

he knows you like the back of his hand, and he knew that you weren’t telling him something

quirking a brow, Wooyoung says nothing, only continuing to stare

you sigh, reaching into your pocket to pull out a piece of paper

“He asked me out,” you finally admit, handing him the number

Yanking it out of your hand, Wooyoung looks at the phone number and address the boy had written down

“He didn’t even offer to pick you up?” your best friend scoffs

you roll your eyes

“It’s not that big of a deal Woo” you argue

he fixes you with a stern look

“I thought I raised you better than to have such low standards,” he shakes his head

“I’m literally a few months older than you!” You cry out

Clicking his tongue, Wooyoung crumples up the piece of paper and tosses it carelessly to the side, ignoring your protests

“I’m not letting you go out with some mediocre boy,” he says, opening the car door and gesturing for you to get inside

He closes the door as you try and argue with him, beginning to walk over to the driver’s side

Wooyoung elects to ignore the jealous monster that has made itself known in his heart over the idea of you going out with someone else

someone other than him

getting settled in the drivers seat, Wooyoung starts the car before turning to face you with a cheeky grin

“Dinner?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

screaming into my pillow :)

[starlightsalvatore]

ripper / damon salvatore x reader

this was inspired by this blog post !!! idk if this is really what you wanted but this is where the spirit moved me lol - I hope everyone enjoys! as always lmk what you think!

ripper / damon salvatore x reader

summary: Stefan flipped his switch and you and Damon have been trying your hardest to bring him home... but Stefan has other ideas.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: typical tvdu stuff (blood, fear, pain, etc)

“Goodnight, Linda! I’ll see you next week,” you called out as you pushed the door to the boutique open, letting it shut behind you as you crossed the street to find your car. Your mind was swimming with unanswered questions, things in Mystic Falls had been topsy-turvy since Stefan flipped his switch and skipped town with Klaus. You and Damon had been hunting down every lead while keeping it from Elena, encouraging her to move on while the two of you ignored your own hypocrisy as you refused to do the same. On top of every dead end or trip down south to cover up the carnage Stefan left in his wake there was something brewing just beneath the surface with Damon the two of you were refusing to acknowledge. It wasn’t the time, there was too much on your plates but it didn’t stop the tension that seeped into every late night you spent with him poring over files Sheriff Forbes had given you.

You unlocked your car as it came into view, listening to the chirps echo down the empty street but stopped in your tracks when a figure appeared before you, “Stefan?” you asked, hope filling your voice but it faded just as soon as it had appeared when you looked into his eyes… so cold and dark, unlike the ones you’d come to know. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you.”

“I know,” he answered, “I’m here to tell you to stop.”

“Come on, Stefan… let us help you, I can help you,” you pleaded and he just chuckled darkly. He was someone you used to trust implicitly, he’d saved you from sudden death time and time again, taken you in and given you a home when Klaus had killed your parents to prove a point but this was not the Stefan you knew. 

“You can help me, sweetheart,” he said, fingers trailing along your collarbone and you felt sick to your stomach at his touch. “God, have I been dying to know what you taste like,” he muttered mostly to himself. You thought about running, but it was pointless… you thought about screaming for help, but he’d just kill whoever showed up… Damon. Damon was at the grill, just a handful of yards away. “So many nights hearing that heartbeat just down the hallway, like a siren call. How stupid was I to resist?” he asked rhetorically and while his attention was focused on the pulsing of your neck you slowly pulled your phone from your back pocket, dialing Damon’s number and praying to whatever god was listening that you didn’t hit the wrong buttons.

“So, what’s the plan, Stefan? Just going to kill me right here in front of the grill?” you asked, voice wavering as you tried to stall him. “Who are you trying to send a message to? Damon? Elena?” He growled in response.

“Maybe the message is for you,” he said, hand closing around your throat. “Did you think I wouldn’t know you’ve been helping him? That it wasn’t you who’s been covering my tracks?” he asked but you couldn’t answer. His hand disappeared and you sucked in a breath only to let out a cry of pain as he gripped your wrist, pulling your phone into view before he pried it out and you felt your bones crack under the pressure as he tossed it aside. “Stupid girl, are you trying to make this easier on me?”

“So this is hard for you?” you asked, clinging onto that as you took a step back and tried to ignore the pain in your wrist. “Good, lean into it. You don’t want to kill me, even with your humanity off you can’t tell me you don’t miss the fun we used to have together… dancing with Lexi to Bon Jovi, crushing Elena and Jeremy at pool…” you trailed off, trying to spark something in him. “Just, come home, Stefan. Let me help you, everything can go back to how it was.”

“Yes, I really do, because the real fun is what I’ve been denying myself all this time.” he sneered and you felt a gush of wind behind you.

“Whoa brother, just take it easy,” you heard Damon say and suddenly you were flipped around with your back pressed against Stefan, his arm a vice grip around your waist as his other hand held onto your throat. 

“You really should have stopped looking for me,” Stefan growled as you squirmed in his grasp, pain radiating through your arm as you struggled for air. “I don’t want to be found.”

“Yet you came all this way to Mystic Falls, to the middle of the town square. That doesn’t scream don’t find me,” Damon pointed out, taking a step closer but he stopped in his tracks when you let out a cry as the grip around you tightened. Damon could hear your heart thudding against your ribcage, quick and uneven as your eyes pleaded with him to do something. 

“Had to deliver a message,” Stefan responded. “But now that I’m here, she is a lot of fun, isn’t she, brother? Always was so brave, even in the face of death,” he chuckled as he brushed your hair from your neck. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he taunted. 

“Just let her go, we can talk this out… come to an understanding,” Damon said, slowly taking another step. He’d never felt so helpless, like control was slipping through his fingers like sand.

“Oh, I’m not in the mood for talking,” he replied and you felt his lips kiss along your carotid artery and you stiffened in his grasp before thrashing against him. “So responsive,” he chuckled and anger flared in Damon’s chest at the sight. “Come on, Damon… all this time you’ve been pushing me to have more fun, now you want to stop me?”

“You want real fun? You’re not going to find it here in Mystic Falls,” he said, gesturing to the empty town around him. “Let’s go on a good old fashioned brotherly road trip, find some girls that actually enjoy being fed on,” he said, and you didn’t miss the desperation in his voice as you tried to calm your breathing and focus on anything other than the ache throbbing in your wrist. Stefan wasn’t swayed and you let out a pained cry as his fangs sunk into your neck, opening you up as he drank you in and you struggled in his arms.

“Stefan- don’t,” you choked out, fighting against him. Your words came out strained as blood poured from your neck and you felt tears slipping down your cheeks. “Elena will… she’ll never forgive you.”

“She’s right, brother. Just let her go, we can make this all go away,” Damon pleaded and he knew you didn’t have much time before he ripped your head off. You were already starting to go limp in his arms and Damon’s eyes were apologetic as he looked at you but you didn’t have enough time to process what it meant before you were flying through the air and hitting the ground with a thud that winded you. You groaned as you lifted your arms to press against the wound in your neck, each nerve ending protesting with a fiery jolt of pain as you tried to control the bleeding.

You couldn’t see anything, couldn’t move… all you could hear was a crack in the distance as your eyes fluttered closed before you felt your body being tugged upright. “Come on, drink…” Damon said, shaking you softly and when you didn’t respond he shook you harder. “You don’t get to do this, damn it! Drink,” he said again and your eyes opened as you wrapped your lips around his wrist, letting the sickly sweet liquid slide down your throat. You were alone again, vaguely making out Damon on the phone with somebody before you lost consciousness. 

“Hey, hey, easy, you’re safe now,” you heard as you sat up in bed, startled as your eyes darted around and you saw you were back in your room at the boarding house. Damon was looking down at you intensely as tried to ease you into laying back down but you just shook your head.

“Where is he?” you asked frantically, “please tell me we didn’t lose him.”

“He’s in the cellar,” he answered. You let yourself relax a little at this, knowing the hope you’d been clinging to all summer seemed a little more realistic now. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered and your face twisted in confusion. “This is all my fault.”

“What? Damon, this isn’t your fault,” you tried but he just shook his head.

“He knew the way to get to me was through you, I shouldn’t… he didn’t want to be found, I shouldn’t have pushed,” he said and your eyes softened as you took him in. He looked exhausted and the faint light peeking around your curtains let you know he must have been waiting a while for you to wake up. 

“He knew I was helping you, this was as much a message for you as it was for me,” you replied. “I’ll be okay.”

“But you’re not right now,” he said and you smiled sadly.

“But I will be,” you reassured, “nobody said bringing a ripper back from the depths of inhumanity would be easy.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated and you just wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself move to straddle his hips to pull him closer into you. “You don’t deserve this, I… I should have protected you better. I can’t lose you,” he muttered into your chest as his arms snaked around your waist and held you tight.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said and he pulled back to look up at you, eyes swimming with emotion. 

“You… you mean too much to me,” he said, fingers brushing your hair behind your ear before cupping your jaw. “I can’t lose you,” he repeated.

“And you won’t,” you promised, eyes sad as you knew this wasn’t really a promise you could keep, but you would try… for him. You let your fingers thread through his hair as you held him close, needing the comfort right now as much as he did. Putting on a brave face was what you were good at, you seemed to face a new evil every week in this town but this was different… This was Stefan, one of your closest friends who used you to prove a point, who made it look so easy to bring you within an inch of your life. You needed Damon as much as he needed you and with someone downstairs locked in a cell who was so important to the both of you, you didn’t have any fight left in you to pretend you didn’t need him.

“I love you,” he muttered against your skin and your heart skipped a beat, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. “I won’t let him hurt you ever again, I’m so sorry.” You shifted, leaning back to look down at him and those intense blue eyes held so much emotion you felt your heart crack wide open.

“Damon-” you started but he cut you off by cupping your face and pulling you down to meet his lips. You responded immediately, letting your lips move in tandem with his before pulling back breathless.

“I love you,” he repeated as you rested your forehead against his. 

“I love you too,” you responded, letting yourself smile genuinely for the first time all summer. “We’re going to get your brother back, okay? We’ll get him back and everything will be okay.”

taglist: @caseysalvatore @minalblood @styxfly (if you’re name is struck through it means I couldn’t tag you - sorry!)

tagging you because you inspired this one! @tmhxll​ 

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆

summary - you and ransom had thought of playing a game, a game of jealousy. in the beginning, everything was fine, it was fun, but lately, it felt as though he no longer loved you, that he’d rather the women he flirted with. after the party, do you think their relationship can be resolved?

warning - angst, self-hate, talks of cheating.

the gif and headers I use aren’t mine, and the divider is by @firefly-graphics

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You remembered when you and Ransom made up this silly game. Oh, how stupid you were for agreeing to it. You didn’t think it would hurt as much as it did. At first, it was fun. Getting to see Ransom all worked up and jealous, but it changed… Drastically, it changed. You were the one to get worked up and jealous. Maybe it was because he seemed to enjoy other women’s attention more than yours now. Did you push it too far? Was it your fault that he’s falling out of love with you? It couldn’t be, right?

You and Ransom were hosting a party tonight. You weren’t as excited as you used to be. Parties with the love of your life used to be fun, but now with the neverending game... It felt like a punch in the face because no matter how pretty you made yourself, his eyes always seemed to be watching someone else.

You sighed as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The white dress with black outlines clung to your body. Your hair was neatly clipped back, with a few strands framing your face, and you stared into the eyes of the girl you once were. Your eyes were sad, drained, lifeless. The black eyeliner around them didn’t do much, nor did the deep red lipstick that covered your plump lips. The very lipstick that Ransom said was his favourite, but lately, it wasn’t.

Why were you doing this? Why couldn’t Ransom see that the game was now hurting you? Did he even want to see it? Was he happier getting a free pass to cheat because all it was to him was a game?

“Babe, the party is starting. Are you ready?” Your eyes connected with his through the mirror, noticing how he just leaned against the doorway. You remember when he used to sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around you, peppering your neck with kisses until you’d break into giggles, playfully pushing him away. Now, he just stands there… He looked annoyed, like he’d been waiting forever.

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. Glancing in the mirror one last time as you smooth out your dress, you slowly head toward the door. Feeling saddened when you find it empty, Ransom has already left, making his way to greet your guests. You had entered the room, already noticing that Ransom was flirting with some beautiful, busty redhead. Her hand squeezes his biceps as she giggles at whatever he says, your heart would squeeze at the sight of his hand resting on her hip, but you’ve become numb to it all.

You smile at your guests as you walk to your built-in bar. Hoping and praying that they couldn’t tell how fake it was, how you no longer felt happy. You made it to the bar, sitting on the stool and waving to the bartender. You give the man yet another very well-performed fake smile while ordering a drink. You don’t dare turn around when you take a sip, not wanting to watch your boyfriend with another woman. You wished you had the courage to end this game and tell him no more. You thought he’d notice the game was over when you no longer flirted with other men, but you guess Ransom was too into his head to see anything else.

“Y/n? Is that you?’ You turn your head slightly, and the seat beside you is filled as a man from your past sits down. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling with the happiness you wish you had. You wouldn’t deny the jealousy you felt by how genuine his joy looked. “Wow! It’s been so long! You look absolutely gorgeous! How have you been?”

You smile softly at his compliment, taking a sip of your drink before you respond. “Hi, Steve. I’ve been good… How about you? Last I heard, you opened your own art studio?” He nods, ordering himself a drink as he continues to smile at you.

“Yeah! It’s honestly the best decision I’ve made. Are you sure you’re okay? I thought you and Ransom were doing well?” You could’ve broken down right then and there at his concerned gaze. You wondered why he would ask such a question, so you turned. Oh, what a dumb decision. Why did you have to turn? Because there stood your boyfriend, with the redhead pushed against the wall as he continued to flirt, his hands dangerously close to her ass and her hands tangled in his hair.

“Oh… Uh, yeah. It’s just an uh… It’s a game that we have going on between us….” You quickly chug the rest of your drink, feeling tears brimming your eyes and the lump in your throat grow more significant. You refuse to look into Steve’s eyes, knowing they’d be filled with pity and confusion. “I–I’m going to… I need some air… If you’ll excuse me….” You quickly stand and rush outside, rushing around to the wall where you can’t be seen. Heartbreaking sobs escape you, your hands flying up so no one can hear you. You let it go, all the pain and heartbreak.

You didn’t hear or notice Steve following you, and you didn’t know you weren’t alone until you felt arms wrap around you, hands stroking your hair as they pressed you into their chest. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. Everything will be okay.” Steve held you as you cried, rocking you slightly. His head turns, and his eyes connect with worried blue ones. Ransom had watched you leave the room, and he was confused about why you were crying in another man’s arms.

You slowly pull back, clearing your throat and blinking away the tears. You look at Steve’s shirt and frown. “Oh, god. I ruined your shirt… I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He continues to stroke your hair, looking deep into your eyes as he says this. You hear a huff and look over, your eyes finding your boyfriend’s. You notice the frown set on his face before he rolls his eyes and storms inside, probably to continue to flirt with the redhead. You could feel the numbness begin to set in, wondering how long you’ll be able to continue in a relationship where there’s no longer any love. “Hey.” Steve lifts your head, “go talk to him. Maybe this is a big misunderstanding? He followed you out here after noticing you left, shouldn’t that account for something?”

“Maybe…” You blink, your hands coming up to fix your makeup, but what does it matter? It’s not like anyone cared. “Thank you, Steve… Maybe we could go for lunch sometime?” Steve smiles, nodding before he reaches up and begins to help with your make-up, wiping away the mascara.

A few more hours passed before the party finally came to an end. You and Ransom had headed outside to say goodbye to the guests. His arm wrapped securely around your waist. You had noticed his focus had been more on you after what had happened outside. As the last of the guests were leaving, you saw the redhead that Ransom had been flirting with walking toward you both, her hips swaying, adjusting her bra so that her breasts were pushed up.

“Ransom.” She purrs, touching his arm when she stops before him, batting her eyelashes at him. “It was so good seeing you. You’ll call me, right?” You felt sick as his arm slowly slid from your waist, landing on hers as he smiled down at her.

The walls were built too high, and you could feel the alarms going off in your head. Warning you that your emotions were going into lockdown, begging you to feel. You stood there, again watching your boyfriend flirt with some easy bimbo right in front of you and when he looked at you. You could’ve sworn he looked broken. You weren’t sure why, though? He seemed to have what he wanted, but you didn’t know that Ransom wanted you to look at him with love in your eyes again. He wanted you to have the light and happiness in them when you used to look at him. But all he got was sadness. They were no longer full of life, just lifeless.

He wouldn’t admit it, but seeing you with Steve felt like a stab to his heart. Ransom could tell the smile you gave Steve was genuine, one that you’d only faked with him recently. Before he could say anything, you left, turning your back on him and walking back into the house.

“Can you just fuck off already? Jesus, why the fuck would I want some bimbo when I have the most amazing woman in there?” He growled, glaring at the whore in front of him.

“Really? You started flirting with me! You fucking asshole!” He felt the sting on his cheek, but Ransom didn’t care. He needed to win your love back. Ransom thought you were enjoying the game. He was an idiot for agreeing to it. Why did he do it? Why agree when he didn’t even find any other woman attractive? Ransom only wanted you. He wanted the whole package. Marriage, kids, grandkids. But he only saw that with you, not these worthless whores.

He stormed into the house and on the way to his room. He quickly realised his many mistakes, the flirting and the distance. Ransom had realised he didn’t compliment you on the stunning dress you picked out, god, he loved the dress. He loved that you wore his favourite shade of lipstick on your lips, the lips he loves kissing, the lips he’s missed.

As Ransom reached his room, he felt his whole world shatter around him. There you stood in front of the mirror, studying and judging yourself. He watches you cup your breasts, pushing them together and up, how you turn to stare at your ass. Ransom slowly stepped into the room, and your eyes snapped up and connected with his saddened ones. He could see that you tried to wipe the lipstick off. A beautiful shade of red was smeared across your cheek. Your hair was down and messy from the clip being torn out and thrown across the room.

“Princess–”

“Don’t.” You glare before turning and heading to the bathroom to wash off your makeup. Ransom follows. His heart was heavy as he thought of ways to make it up to you.

“The game was a stupid idea… I shouldn’t have agreed or continued to flirt with those women.” He leans against the bathroom door, continuing to talk even though you don’t look at him. “I don’t want anyone else, not since I met you. Hell, I’ve even had thoughts of starting a family and marrying you, only you. Anytime I try and think of doing that with anyone else, you are the only one I can think of.” He blinks back the tears that threaten to spill, “I’m the biggest idiot alive. I had the most beautiful woman on my arm and left it too late to see it.”

You stopped halfway through, taking your make-up off, staring at him through the mirror as he continued to ramble on. “If you mean that, why were you so close to her against the wall? Why did it seem like more than flirting?”

Ransom groans, rubbing his face. “Because I’m stupid! Because when I saw you and Steve talking, I realised how close I was to losing you forever!” He moves closer, spinning you and grabbing your hands. Ransom stares you in the eyes. “I always knew that you deserved someone like Steve, hell. You deserve so much more than this life, and when I saw you giving him a smile I haven’t seen since we started this stupid game. I lost it, and I became a dumb man.”

Your lip wobbles, eyes brimming with tears as you stare up at him. “And then, when I saw you rush outside, he followed you. I felt like I had failed, especially when I followed and saw you in his arms. My god, Princess, I love you! I love you! I love you! My heart is literally in pieces, I’ve been an ass, and I’ll do anything to get you to forgive me!” He drops to his knees, pressing his face into your stomach as he breaks down. “I’m so sorry. I’ll understand if you pack up and leave me forever.”

The tears fall from your eyes, and your eyes slowly close as your hands find their way to Ransom’s hair, trying to calm yourself by running your fingers through it. “How do I know I can trust that, Ransom? How can I trust your word of loving me when you seemed so happy? The game didn’t mean for you to distance yourself from me… You chose to avoid me. How can I trust that you won’t break my heart?”

He buries his face deeper, hugging you closer. “I’d rather stab myself in the heart than break yours.” Ransom stands, looking down at you with puffy red eyes. “You don’t have to forgive or trust me tonight, tomorrow, a week or a month. But I will stick by your side as long as you will have me, and hopefully… Hopefully, one day you’ll take my last name.” You look up at him, breathing heavily as your mind and heart struggle with your decision. He strokes your cheek before leaning down to lean his forehead against yours, a whisper falling from his lips. “I love you, Princess. I’m always going to love you.”

“...I love you too, Ransom… Always.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[permafrown]

something to hide, like a body, maybe?

—  SUMMARY ; Scarecrow's been calling upon Gotham's resident Undertaker more and more recently. This spike in frequency suspiciously coincides with Irene's recent discovery of just who's underneath their favorite burlap mask. Nontheless, they have no choice but to act like it's business as usual, and tonight's no different.

...Or is it?

SHIP ; Scaretaker (Irene x Jonathan / Undertaker x Scarecrow)

WORD COUNT ; around 1.3k !

CW/TW(s) ; talking about corpses and states of decay, bugs (beetles specifically)

NOTE(s)? ; I had btaa scarecrow in mind when writing him .. he's silly I like how he talks

In the dead of night, on the outskirts of Gotham, a black-clad figure waits patiently to meet with an anticipated client, their shovel in-hand.

"Why, if it isn't Scarecrow." The Undertaker chirps, tipping their hat in greeting as they see a familiar figure cut through the fog. "I haven't seen you in almost.. twenty-four hours!"

Barely noticable through the mask of straw and stitched burlap, The Scarecrow grins. "People might start to talk."

With a slight giggle, Undertaker digs their shovel into the soil before them, making themselves a makeshift post to lean against as they tuck their hands under their chin. Their voice drops to a low purr, briefly. "And, would that truly be so terrible?"

Scarecrow opens his mouth to respond, but Undertaker clears their throat loudly, pulling the shovel back out of the dirt and placing it over their shoulder. "Anywho," They digress, "Let's talk business."

He watches as they move towards the nearby black tarp that was all neatly rolled up. He blinks once, and then twice. Nontheless, he joins his veiled associate at their side, his hands clasped behind his back almost expectantly.

"Is this one your usual cases?" Undertaker asks with morbid familiarity as they unroll the tarp to get a look at the corpse held within.

"Indeed. A rather.. unfortunate fellow," Scarecrow clicks his tongue. "Got a little too close to finding out who the Scarecrow really was, and all that."

There's a deliberate pause. "You know how it goes."

Undertaker could feel his gaze on them. It takes everything in their power to suppress the shiver threatening to crawl up their spine.

"Mm," They hum, tapping their shovel nervously. "Many such cases. You've become quite the man of interest lately."

Something's off, and Undertaker knows this. Their eyes flicker over the cadaver once more, squinting slightly as they take in the more subtle details presented before them, eyes darting around. "Wait a minute..."

This man was not one of his victims. They've seen enough of those poor souls to know that no Scarecrow victim ever died peacefully, if their face had anything to say about it. That was, of course, assuming the head was still intact to begin with. Not only that..

"This body isn't even fresh!"

They can't see it, but a smile starts to creep onto Scarecrow's face. "It isn't?" He tilts his head, feigning puzzlement. "And, pray tell, what gave you that idea?"

Undertaker freezes. They've begun to dig a grave they weren't going to be able to get themselves out of.

"Lucky guess?" They shrug with a wince.

Scarecrow tuts, and Undertaker throws their hands up defensively before he could further scrutinize their weak attempt at a lie. "Okay, okay!" They sigh, voice falling to a mumble, tilting their head back and forth. "I may or may not know a thing or two about the ol' Postmortem Interval or whatever,"

"Look." They start, pointing their boot towards the little brown carrion beetles crawling along the tarp. "He's already attracting Hide Beetles. They typically don't rear their silly, little heads around until around a week after someone dies."

They hear Scarecrow hum in what they could only hope was him being impressed. "Fascinating."

"But.." They continue. "It also looks like there's been something of an attempt at preservation. So, that would mean.."

"...And, excuse my unprofessionalism here.." Crouching down, Undertaker pries the cadaver's jaw open with considerable effort, hissing softly as they hear a crack. Looking closer, they spot the familiar bundle newspaper stuffed in the back of the throat.

"He's even already been embalmed."

They feel a cold sweat at the back of their neck as they hear grass crunch from Scarecrow moving in closer, looming behind them. "...You exhumed this man." They say slowly, not daring to turn their head. "Why?"

"Why, indeed?" He says, voice low and amused. "I figured you, of all people, would be very, very intimate with Thanatopraxis." He pauses.

"Irene."

Their pulse spikes upon hearing their given name. Remaining calm, Irene rises from their spot on the ground slowly, and without a word. They grip their shovel in both hands tightly and turn to swing at Scarecrow. Unfortunately for them, he's quick to catch it mid-swing.

"Wohoho! Careful there, Undertaker!" He laughs, grabbing ahold of the shovel's collar and utilizing it to yank them towards him.

Irene yelps, fully expecting to fall forward, but he catches them with a well-placed arm around their waist. "Is that any way to treat your favorite business partner? Your Jonathan?"

"You-" they start to stammer, heartbeat pounding in their chest. "H-How long have you known?"

"Does it matter?" He purrs, twirling a stray curl of their hair before tucking it behind their ear.

"Shouldn't you be more.. afraid of what I'm going to do with this information? How would the GCPD feel about their favorite little morgue attendant cozying up to Gotham's most.. nefarious? I can't imagine they'd be very happy."

There's a moment of silence as Irene looks up at him, struggling to respond.

Then, Scarecrow chuckles lowly. "..No, that's not you. You don't care about your civillian reputation.. You care about me - about us."

He tilts his head back, barking out a laugh before lolling his head back to look at them. "You want to know what my plans with you are. Don't you?" He coos, squeezing their chin in his hand almost playfully.

Irene shakes their head, breaking his grip on them with a dry chuckle. "I feel like it's a valid concern," They reply, "considering you haven't killed me just yet."

"I haven't." He nods. "Call me sentimental, but, I will admit.. I've grown attached to you, Irene."

His voice dropped to a low purr. "Very attached, and," He leans down, nuzzling under their chin as he exhales slowly. "I don't intend on letting go."

"...Huh?" Irene blurts, suddenly finding themselves dumbfounded.

Scarecrow pulls back, hands now gripping their shoulders as he looks them over. "Oh, Irene.. Don't tell me you're surprised!" He barks out a laugh. "Especially not after our little.. Halloween incident."

Irene shudders a little bit as they remember that night, but it's not out of fear. That night was the night they fell in-love for a second time. Being frozen in awe at all the visceral terror unfolding around them that horrible Autumn night, and in the middle of it all - Scarecrow. "How could I forget?" They murmur.

"See?" He sighs affectionately, as if he was reminiscing there with them. "You feel it, too - the romance of it all! You and I? We were meant to be."

"Say you'll work with me, my dear." He rasps, placing a mock trail of kisses through burlap up their throat before looking them in the eyes. "Say you'll be this Scarecrow's one and only."

"Our union, my Irene, will drag this city through it's worst nightmares, like cans tied to a newlyweds' speeding getaway vehicle."

He pulls off his mask, allowing Irene to see him, not just as Scarecrow, but Jonathan. "If only you'll have me."

The last part comes as a whisper. Looking into his eyes, pupils dilated and all in a mix of what they could only interpret as pure, unadulterated desire.

Irene takes a moment to remove their hat and veil, gazing back at him uncovered, a large smile growing across their face as their eyes scan his. "Till death." they jest as they lean into Jonathan. He squeezes them in his arms with a chuckle, repeating after them. "Till death."

He presses his lips to theirs with all the searing passion of a sealing vow, officially consolidating the relationship between two of Gotham's most ghastly Rogues.

[estelofrivendell]

You’ve Got A Friend In Me (Aragorn x Female Reader)

a/n: clara actually posting a one shot??? shocker, right? anyway, i started this months ago and only finished it now. it’s not really x reader, but oh well. also, there may or may not be inspiration taken from to kill a mockingbird. i won’t elaborate and you will see it when you see it. i don’t really see this as a part three of “a change of heart” but you can if you want to. also, don’t question the toy storyesque title.

summary: you’re convicted of a crime you actually didn’t do and all the odds are against you because of your reputation. aragorn is the only one to believe you are innocent and does what he can to help you get cleared of all charges.

word count: 2,1k

warnings: none really other than mentions of murder

During your first meeting, Aragorn prayed to whatever God was up there to have you locked up for your crimes sooner or later. He never thought it would actually happen considering how lousy the whole system was. Yet the wishes he no longer held were answered, which he thought was only done to spite him. When news of the lords declaring you a fugitive, he prayed you would be guided into safety and away from the authorities before asking why they wanted you.

“Do you need to ask?” A considerably young ranger laughed. “That woman is a menace. It was about time those poor souls were brought to justice, and this is long overdue.”

Aragorn growled. “That does not answer my question.”

The young ranger laughed once more, holding up his arms. “Calm down. They say she murdered one of those great lords in cold blood. Witnesses saw her near the castle when all the mess was going on. Can you believe it?”

No, I do not. She would never do that, not anymore.

Finding you wasn’t so difficult anymore. You were a slippery little snake that it took Aragorn a while to master the task of locating you. Today felt strangely easier than it was and he wondered if that was deliberate and you had been hoping he would find you.

You sure did not expect his visit as you aimed your knife at him, the tip close enough to his chin that it made a small cut, but you lowered it the moment you realised who it really was.

“Aragorn? What brings you here?”

“I believe you know what brought me here. Did you do it?”

“Kill the lord? No, though I would love that honour. I cannot tell you I am entirely innocent in this matter.”

You didn’t change entirely, you see. You still took payments (especially when the money came from a high bidder) and you were more than happy to carry out the execution of the worst of men, and the lord was no kind man. He was someone no one wanted to be around and Aragorn didn’t need to be told that you would love to kill him, yet he felt it in him that if you were going to be arrested for any crime, this was not it.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore,” you said, turning away from him. “You need to get out of here. I don’t want you seen with me and I most certainly don’t want you to be involved in my problems, so do yourself a favour and save your sorry self from a conviction.”

Aragorn raised a brow. “You involve yourself in my affairs, why can I not do the same?”

You shot him a glare. “That is different, I was helping you. And if-”

“You don’t think I’m helping you? I’m telling you I believe you’re innocent, and no matter what you say to make yourself look bad, I’ll find a way to make sure you’re not tried for anything.”

“Then run away with me.” You offered your hand. “A life in the forests away from the city sounds nice. It’s what I always dreamed of as a young girl.”

If he wasn’t destined for something so big, he would not hesitate to take up your offer. Even then, he imagined a life with you and he believed it to be so cozy and perfect. He was no stranger to waking up beside you and he longed for your company that getting to do it every morning sounded like a utopia.

“I… cannot.”

“Why not? You have nothing going for you. Just the same old rangering, nearly getting yourself killed while the people you protect don’t thank you for your service. Would you prefer a life with me, where we have all the freedom we can get? We can explore the world together, unbounded by expectations and obligations.”

“I may not like what I do, but it is still my duty to protect the men of Bree.”

Hurt, you turned away from him and left. “Well, you made your choice and I have made mine. I am sorry they are incompatible, but there is no use to convince you. I wish you all the luck if there is any left.”

-

Each day, Aragorn misses you, but does not regret not following you. He would kill for you, but he would not pick you over the crown. It was the heaviest price he ever paid in his life and he is sure nothing else can compare.

Over time, his life is the same as it was before he met you. Hunt orcs, occasionally meet Gandalf, return to Rivendell, eat and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

It had been three months, shy of Midsummer when he heard about your whereabouts. Expecting neutral at worst news, he ensured to look like he was not paying attention and almost lost his train of thought when they started to go into more detail.

“Word has it that the woman thought to murder the lord had been found by authorities just last week. She put up a good fight, killing the guards and escaped the first time, but they caught her this time, not without issue though. She’s been brought back here for a trial.”

“Here? Why?” A young man asked, stupidly.

“Because this is where the murder happened,” said the man calmly. “I’m more surprised she’s getting a trial in the first place. Murderers like her deserve a lifetime sentence, plus 150 years, without the possibility of bail. In fact, the guillotine will do.”

A young woman around the same age as you spoke up. “There’s no way she’s getting a sentence lower than that. I mean, she steals a lot, and that’s not worth a death sentence in my book, and all those conspiracy murders everyone spoke of had no evidence, but this one did.”

“So, when is the trial?” The young woman asked.

“In two months time, assuming no delays.”

-

After a lot of difficult convincing on his end, side eyes he received, and suspicion that he was someone to not be trusted, Aragorn received the location of the maximum security prison and the specific cell you were held at. The guards asked him a lot of questions before letting him see you, let alone giving you privacy. 

When you saw him, you shot up and clenched your hands around the bars. A friendly face was long overdue. “It’s over, Strider. No point in making me feel better. I lost the moment they found me and there’s no turning back.”

“Don’t say that. Have some faith in yourself. I know you didn’t do it-“

“And do you have proof for that? God, I’m grateful to have you, and I’m grateful that you believe I didn’t do it, but you’re a delusional man. Go home. Find a woman to fuck, marry and have babies with. Forget about me. You’re smarter than this.”

“I know many people that can help you. I’ve been looking around and speaking to them, and they agreed to look into it. Some of them have been given permission to investigate.”

“Strider.” Only until now did you start crying, and Aragorn never saw you cry. He thought you crying was something he never thought he would see. “Stop that. You don’t have to do that.”

“What friend would I be?”

“You’re risking your own life for me.” You sobbed. “I don’t want you to jeopardise your own life to save mine. Please, stop this, go home. You have nothing to do with this.”

Suddenly, the door opened and two guards roughly grabbed Aragorn and pulled him away. “Time’s up,” one of them gruffly said to him as you mouthed “don’t resist.” He reluctantly listened. He was a lot stronger than everyone here combined and could knock them out in one hit, but if he wanted to finish his plan of ensuring you were proven innocent, beating up the guards was not the way to do it.

Once he was thrown out of the prison, he looked at the architecture and noted how miserable it was. He could tell you were losing your mind each passing minute and only hoped that you would recover as soon as you were released.

-

One of the people he paid to investigate the lord’s death had summoned him to a private place at night. 

“I think you need to hear this. Last night, we went over the body and we discovered enormous hand marks on the victim’s neck and marks on his right eye. The hand prints are too big to belong to a woman and the injuries on his eye could mean a left-handed man did it.”

Aragorn has met women with quite large hands, but the news only confirmed that you didn’t kill him, as he was aware you had small hands. You were also indeed right handed.

“With this proof in mind, it’s hard for me to believe she did it. I don’t know who did it, but I don’t believe it’s her.”

-

Aragorn snuck his way in your trial and watched from above, making sure to keep discreet. After the introduction and overview of your charges, and people fighting it out with you remaining silent, you were suddenly asked a question that piqued his interest.

“Can you read and write?”

“Yes, I can.”

Everyone present stared at each other, muttering amongst each other, shocked that a woman who was most certainly not noble and was uneducated knew how to read and write.

You were asked to write out what the judge said, word by word with both hands. The most eloquent speech with advanced words yet you had no struggle writing them down, with your right hand, confusing everyone.

The man that asked you to write remained calm the entire time, as if he was unsurprised, startling you a bit.

“You see, the woman here wrote with her right hand, with perfect handwriting, while her writing with her left hand is nearly illegible. This could only mean she is right handed. The lord was discovered with bruises on the right side of his face, which if we assume she is the murderer, would be probable if she is left-handed. But she is not.”

“Secondly, there were big handprints around the lord’s neck. The woman here has quite small hands. A woman’s strength could only do so much to try and choke a man let alone with small hands.”

The trial went on and on, but came to an end, a good one, since you were cleared of your charges. Due to the everyone’s shock and confusion, and how the evidence countered their expectations, no one cheered nor jeered at the decision. It was dead silent and everyone left without uttering a single word.

Aragorn only smiled to himself, but his smile fell when you ignored him.

-

And life in Bree went on.

Everyone spent a week talking about how they had wrong thoughts of you, while others were still convinced you didn’t do it. A couple others just didn’t care and were annoyed to even hear about you. But after a week, the chatter all died down and everyone minded their own business, unless it was something about their married neighbor beginning an affair with another woman. 

Aragorn found you at your place, cleaning your home with a lot of things packed.

“Going somewhere?”

“Finishing what I did not get to,” you said, not looking at him. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see if you are well.”

“I am… well, I suppose. I’m not in a shitty cell with a similar embodiment to hell anymore.”

“I don’t expect a thanks or-”

“Thank you,” you suddenly said, finally facing him. “I’m sorry for doubting you. I really did think it was over for me.”

“I don’t blame you for doubting me, but I am your friend. You helped me before and it’s about time I returned the favour.”

“I am still going away for a while. I do not think I want to come back to Bree after a short time with everything that has happened. I understand you do not want to come with me, but I will come back, I promise.”

“About that. I think I decided that I do want to travel with you. It’s that this time, we’re not running away from something terrible.”

You ran towards him to give him a hug, perhaps the biggest hug he ever had in his life, and he heard you start to cry again. This time, you were not crying out of desperation.

No, you were crying of happiness. Happiness because you get to travel around the world with your favourite person, and the only person in your life left that mattered.

[1d1195]

Neighbors IV

What's this?! A timely update?!

Read the other parts here: Part I Part II and Part III

I could be persuaded into one more part if needed. I'll make a series post for this tomorrow probably as well so it's easier to find.

🐱 I hope you enjoy once more.

Disclaimer: EVERYTHING I know about being a doctor comes from WebMD and TV. I'm fully aware this is outlandish. But it's for the plot ya know?

She looked like she was going to collapse. Harry took that moment to stand closer to her. The back of his hand touched hers. She leaned towards him almost instinctively. He took this as his signal to press her against his body. He wasn’t going to let her down. He would never let her collapse.

There was no other way to explain it and Harry had searched his brain over and over to get to the bottom of his emotions. He wanted it to be anything but what he was feeling. But there was no other word. Harry was mad. He wanted to see her. He missed her dearly. Missed Rory just as much, too. But he knew it wasn’t his business or duty to be part of the decision. He had no say in the matter. He could only love her as much as she’d let him.

And he did love her. He never thought he didn’t or couldn’t. She was an incredible mother and her gentleness, kindness, and sweetness on top of her beauty was so much for Harry. He was lucky to get to know her over these two years. While he was mournfully upset over not being around her, he did understand why she pushed away like this.

Of course, he understood.

He still hated it.

So Harry went about his day as if she and Rory weren’t part of his life any longer and it killed him but he would do anything to make her happy. Even if it meant he couldn’t see her anymore.

*

She was about to lose her mind.

Rory hadn’t seemed like himself in days. Based on the spots on the back of his throat she assumed it was strep. But she took him to the doctor, got the antibiotic and moved on. When he didn’t get better after the five-day course of antibiotics, they sent him home again with another five days’ worth of treatment.

But it was now day seven pushing on day eight. Rory wasn’t getting any better. Rory was tired all the time. He was quiet. So quiet it scared her enough that she was watching him sleep rather than sleeping herself. He was clearly in pain, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

Topped with not being around her best friend that was literally and figuratively a stone’s throw away. Her brain was all but fried.

After the first bout of non-working medication, she began researching. It was a horrible idea, but it was the only thing she could do. She wasn’t a medical professional. All she knew was from TV shows and she knew that they only did rare diseases to make the show fun and exciting.

This was not fun nor exciting.

Her heart was aching for Rory. It was one of the only times she ever wished she had someone to lean on when she felt so broken. She knew if she called Harry he would come running over and he would help with whatever she asked. It seemed so unfair to ask him for help. She had done it all on her own until Harry arrived in the neighborhood.

But would it be so bad to ask Harry for help? He was perfect in every way and obviously adored Rory. She had no doubt Rory would be a priority in Harry’s life too. If he wanted it, who was she to deny him of it?

“Mumma, I don’t feel good,” Rory mumbled. It broke her thoughts of Harry. She wished they didn’t because she was about to plan an apology that Harry deserved and she prayed he would accept. If he didn’t, she would understand. Only an idiot would let someone like Harry slip out of their life and she was the front runner for the village idiot.

But when she looked at Rory her heart broke again. He coughed once more shaking his little body, and she had enough. “Okay, baby we’re going to go to the doctor’s again,” she murmured scooping him into her arms. He was getting bigger and that also broke her heart. It wasn’t the time, but it was all she could think about. But he was sick and still so little. Stuffing her feet into the sneakers that were at the door not letting Rory out of her arms for a moment, she then wrapped his coat and a blanket around him because it was naturally raining and raining hard. Scurrying to her car she settled him into the back on his car seat. He coughed again, right in her neck, and groaned. “I know, baby, I know,” she sighed.

Getting into the front seat she turned the key.

Click.

Surely this was a dream. “No, no, no,” she said smacking the steering wheel. “Please, please, please,” she begged.

Click.

“Goddammit!” She hissed under her breath smacking the wheel.

“Mumma?” Rory whined.

“Yes, baby?���

“My tummy hurts,” he said.

“I know, Rory, I’m sorry. I’m...” she felt tears of frustration start behind her eyes and she thought about just running with Rory in her arms all the way to the hospital. But she did have one other option. Before she could process her own idea, her phone was pressed to her ear, she called Harry. Her heart was racing. He didn’t answer.

“Fuck,” she croaked again. It was late of course he wouldn’t hear it. Normally, Rory would giggle out that was a bad word, but he just stayed silent, turning red, hot, and more sick by the second. “C’mon,” she said quickly and retrieved him from the backseat. She hurried across the street and started banging on the door.

Harry startled awake to the sound of his phone vibrating incessantly; nearly falling off on his nightstand paired with an incessant banging that he couldn’t fully understand where it was coming from because his brain was still sleeping. He couldn’t even make out the name on his screen because his brain was still fuzzy, and his heart was slowly working up to regular speed. He felt shocked as he answered tiredly. His brain only worked at the quarter of his normal speed. He cleared his throat, eyes still closed. “’Lo?”

“Harry, please come open the door. Please, please, please,” he had never heard anyone sound so desperate and terrified in his whole life. His eyes opened as if they were spring loaded. He was sure he looked like a horror film. But now his heart was racing further.

“Yeah, yeah, love. Hold on,” trying to shake the sleep from his brain. The distress in her voice made him want to fly down the stairs and he nearly yanked the door off the hinges. He only had seconds to make sense of what was happening but all he could think about was someone hurting her or Rory and how he would do anything to make sure they were both safe. The last few weeks meant nothing. There wasn’t time to qualm about it.

She was clutching Rory to her body; her face was in absolute anguish and Harry was in awe that she could even stand with the weight of whatever she was carrying mentally in addition to Rory. Harry was flicking his eyes back from her to Rory. His chest ached almost as much as hers at the sight of Rory: pale, cheeks pink, and covered in spots. “Something’s wrong with Rory, my car won’t start. Can you drive us to the hospital?” She rushed out her eyes so pleading Harry could have cried.

“Shit. Yeah, yeah, of course.”

Harry grabbed a pair of shoes and coat by the door. Didn’t even put them on and ushered the pair of them to his car in the soaking rain. She slid into the back with Rory cradled in her arms. Harry was terrified. “Mumma, it hurts,” Rory mumbled. His quiet voice, nearly devoid of emotion, made Harry weak, and he pressed his foot further onto the gas pedal wishing it wasn’t raining so he could speed the way he wanted to all the way to the hospital.

“I know baby, I know,” she whispered soothingly.

Harry struggled to put his shoes and coat on as they ran inside to the emergency room. He knew they must have looked insane. She felt insane as she told them he was sick and all the things she had done since the onset of him feeling unwell. They eyed her suspiciously and then her son but of course took the boy and ushered her and Harry to the waiting room.

They ran more tests and while they did, she began pacing, staring at her phone, tapping on the screen as she searched and scoured the internet for something that could help. “Love, I know you want to help, but googling won’t do anything but make you worry.”

“Harry, something is wrong with him,” she said as if he didn’t know why they were there. She could feel the anger projecting onto Harry and she hated it—it wasn’t Harry’s fault she was mad and scared.

But of course, Harry was perfect and didn’t mind her anger was geared toward him in the moment. “I know, love, I know,” he said almost defensively. Harry was also scraping his mind for ideas of what could have happened to the poor boy. His leg bouncing rapidly in anxiousness. “I jus’ don’t want you t’worry unless there is something t’worry about,” he promised.

She sighed out an apologetic breath in his direction and kept her nose glued to her phone continuing her search.

Fortunately, the medical professionals returned shortly thereafter; her phone slid into her pocket and she stood up anxiously but hopeful. She looked at them expectantly awaiting a cure-all for her poor little boy. Somehow she missed it; probably the lack of sleep making her less aware than normal...but Harry could see it in their eyes. They were going to break her heart. “It’s just strep, ma’am.”

She shook her head, her face crumpling in pain that existed in someone else’s body. “No,” Harry could see the torment coursing in her own body. She looked like she was going to collapse. Harry took that moment to stand closer to her. The back of his hand touched hers. She leaned towards him almost instinctively. He took this as his signal to press her against his body. He wasn’t going to let her down. He would never let her collapse. His own heart was racing in fear that the poor little kid was sick as hell. Harry had never seen a child so run down. He felt bad for his mum in that moment—all those times he didn’t feel well, and she had to go through feeling like this. Rory was obviously not his own, but he was prepared to donate every last drop of his blood to the sweet kid if it meant he would feel better and be cured.

“I know when your baby is sick—” The doctor began.

She pressed her fingers to her temples shaking her head, rapidly.

“No, no, no... you don’t know. You don’t understand. This is not me being a crazy mom. I know I sound like a crazy mom. This isn’t that. I know my baby. Something is wrong with him. There is something wrong with him and I’m not leaving until something is done!” She was all but shouting and Harry put a hand on her back.  She started to march over to the waiting area again, she began pacing once more. Harry felt helpless looking at her from where the healthcare stood back to her. They discreetly called for a psychologist while continued Googling her little heart out. Harry felt his head snap defensively at their words as a woman picked up a phone at the desk. Harry would not let them talk about her when she was merely feet away.

“Excuse me,” he murmured at the counter blocking their view of her, but more importantly, her view of them.

“Sir,” the nurse behind the desk started; phone to hear ear.

Harry shook his head, not moving his gaze from her eyes. “I know you’re calling for a psychologist,” he said quietly avoiding raising the tone of his voice at all so she couldn’t hear. They faltered for a moment. He could see their surprised look; how could Harry possibly know that? He narrowed his eyes at the woman on the phone as the voice at the other end began to speak. He pulled his ID that resided in his coat pocket for home visits; he was lucky he didn’t take it out. They looked over his credentials and then back to Harry. “She doesn’t need that,” he shook his head stating it firmly.

She glanced over at Harry at the counter curious what they could be talking about. “Harry?”

“Just a moment, love,” he said to her not moving his gaze from the woman waiting to speak into the receiver.

“Mr. Styles, surely you understand that from lack of sleep and—” The doctor began.

Harry shook his head. “She is fine,” he repeated. “You need to fix her son.”

Harry knew they still didn’t believe him. She was soaking wet and wearing two different sneakers from leaving in such a hurry. They looked at Harry pleadingly, as if he would suddenly change his mind because they were both medical professionals. He denied their silent pleas. He refused to aid them in ignoring her maternal instinct. He knew she wasn’t crazy. Crazy people didn’t wake up their neighbors they were no longer speaking to in the middle of the night. Harry knew she wished it was strep. Strep would be getting better and she would be calmer.

“Harry?” She asked again coming over to the counter. The doctor took his chance once more as the nurse hung up the phone.

“Ma’am...it’s—”

“I swear to God, if you say it’s strep, one more time, I will respectfully throw your tablet,” that wasn’t helping Harry’s sanity case, but it wasn’t uncalled for in his eyes. “If it was strep, I would have it by now! That kid threw up, coughed on, and drooled all over me. It’s not strep! He’s not responding to the antibiotic.”

There was a second doctor that overheard her rising tone and joined in the little circle of trying to maintain calmness. “Ma’am, we’ve run every test.”

“Run them again. It’s not strep!”

“Ma’am, we can’t just—"

“Love,” Harry whispered under his breath trying to keep her level. He believed her of course, but he didn’t want her to get tossed aside because she was scared. The arguing was reaching near hysterics. It was getting past midnight and she was not crazy, but she was close to losing her mind. Harry couldn’t keep her calmer much longer even if he wanted to—he wanted Rory to be tested again just as much as she did. She started pacing again as she scans her phone.

They list through the symptoms and options of what is wrong with him. She kept repeating ‘no’ like a mantra as she read on her phone. Yes, all of the symptoms sounded like strep. Maybe it was tonsilitis, they could send her home with yet another antibiotic. They looked at Harry again pleadingly, but his eyes didn’t stray from her. He was getting increasingly worried about her; he wanted her to be okay just as much as he wanted Rory to be alright.

“Kawasaki disease,” she said suddenly. Holding her phone out to them as proof.

“He doesn’t have the strawberry tongue or any other earmarks—”

Phone back to her face and she slid the screen further. Her eyes were desperate, tears forming in the corners. The doctors clearly wanted to throw away her phone as much as she wanted to throw away their tablet.

“Rocky mountain spotted fever. We went for a beach walk in the dunes over a week ago,” she said and looked at them pleadingly. It was one of the illnesses listed it was nearly impossible. But this was impossible, and she was exhausted. And she had to try.

The doctor shook his head moving her phone screen up a bit as he read. “They’re not in these parts and he would have blackened crusted skin around a bite.”

Desperate once more, she marched into his little cubicle around the corner. The nurse standing by moved out of the way quickly as she yanked the sticker monitors off his skin, pulled the finger monitor off, untied the little gown off his body. Alarms beeped behind her as her eyes started scanning his body. How could she have missed a bite? How could she not have checked for tick bites? This was all her fault. Every second of it.

“Fuck,” she whimpered as she continued scanning, she didn’t see anything on him, and with each scan of his skin she felt more and more hopeless. Surely, she would be sedated in a matter of moments if she didn’t find something—she was certain that was the protocol, and she couldn’t help but start to think they were right through all her exhaustion. Tears were clouding her eyes and she could hardly see his skin through her blurred vision. “Harry, help me,” she begged, her voice cracking violently.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed Rory beneath his arms, holding his sick little body up while she examined more of his skin. Harry let her. He would do anything to help her. He saw the panic on her face. He knew she didn’t want to be right, but she knew it was the only thing that was going to keep Rory from being sent home without treatment and without her being admitted to a psych ward.

“Ma’am,” they started. “We already looked over his whole body and we didn’t find anything...we can prescribe a different antibiotic if the treatment continues to be ineff—”

She was still scanning, ignoring the words that were coming from the medical professionals. Harry felt helpless. Totally helpless as he held his limp, tired little body. She maneuvered his limbs every which way. Please find something. He silently begged.

Finally, she lifted his hair up and started searching along his scalp. She gasped, covered her mouth, as tears dropped down her cheeks. “Like this?” She croaked. The doctor stepped over, and examined the black, scaly spot silently.

There was a moment of nothing but hospital beeps and quiet breathing. She waited expectantly, her eyes moving from Rory’s scalp, then to the doctor, to Harry holding Rory’s tired little body.

“We need more scans,” and then suddenly, finally, there was a call of a series of actions, and once more they whisked the little boy away on a gurney and moved swiftly down the hall.

“We’ll be right back,” the older female nurse promised. She was the one standing by when they entered Rory’s cubicle. Harry noted, now that the excitement is over, that she was the only person who wasn’t staring at the sweet girl as if she was insane. “You did great, Mom,” she praised, squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Good catch. He’ll be fine,” her smile was so kind it melted the anxious girl.

She paced the floor a few times as she started to cry harder again, hand over her heart and her breathing was so uneven, Harry actually worried she was having a cardiac episode. “Harry,” she croaked eventually. Harry pulled her to his body. His chin on top of her head. She shook with cries and Harry gently rocked her. Kissed the top of her head.

“S’okay. S’okay,” he promised rubbing her back. “You did it, love. You figured it out.”

“M’sorry. M’so sorry I cut you out and that was so stupid and you didn’t have to be so nice and take us here and watch me be insane—"

“No, beautiful. S’okay. Don’t worry about that, you’re forgiven, of course. Completely. S’okay,” he promised squeezing her as close as he could trying to keep her together when she was falling apart.

They were silent. Harry held her close to his chest, combed her hair down not moving except for a gentle sway of their bodies in the middle of the hospital hallway. Harry let her cry and he held her as tightly as he could. He hated why he was holding her, the idea of something happening to Rory made him want to kill someone, himself. But he was so grateful to hold her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Styles?”

“Oh, um...no—” Harry started feeling his face warm as he turned to the doctors to correct them. His hand stayed protectively on her lower back, and she leaned against him once more as if she would fall without Harry behind her. With one hand she wiped her eyes and then with the other grabbed Harry’s free hand as tightly as possible. Anchoring herself.

“How is Rory?” she asked, didn’t even bother to correct them at all. The moment wasn’t lost on Harry, but it did move to the back of his mind because Rory was of course more pressing.

“He’s going to be fine. He’s already responding to treatment.”

Harry felt the air fall from her body as if she released the weight of the world off her back. “Can we see him?”

We. Harry melted more.

“Of course,” he gestured to the room.

She hurried from Harry’s side, pulling his hand with her. “Hey Rory, love bug,” she cooed, cupping his face, and rubbing her thumb over his round little cheek.

“Mommy?” He asked wearily.

“Hi baby, how are you feeling now?”

“Hungry,” he sounded sleepy.

She giggled with a teary smile. “Yeah? Let’s get you some food...did you see Harry is here?”

“Hi, Rory,” Harry waved with a grin. “Feeling better?” Rory blearily looked at Harry for a few moments. He didn’t say anything to Harry and for a second, Harry selfishly worried it was too late. That time apart from him, despite all his best efforts to assure Rory he would always be there, was too much for his little heart. Harry betrayed his trust, and it wouldn’t be the same.

“Mommy?” He finally turned his gaze from Harry. It made his stomach churn fearing the rejection of a five- year-old—the only one that mattered. If there was no Rory, there would be no her.

“Yes, my love?” Her eyebrows pinched together because she had never seen Rory act so weird toward Harry. Even when she was doing everything in her power to keep him away. It made her stomach flutter with nervousness as well...unaware that Harry felt the same way.

“Can we be friends with Harry again?” He asked looking back at Harry nervously.

The smile nearly broke Harry’s face in half. He chuckled quietly while she also sighed with relieved giggles. Nodding, she squeezed Rory’s hand. “Yes, baby. We’re going to be best friends. Would you like that?”

He nodded then looked at Harry and smiled his sweet little grin. “Can we have s’mores when we get home?”

“S’more what, lad?”

Rory giggled the sweetest little giggle. “Don’t be silly, Harry.”

*

She held him in the back seat because they still didn’t have a car seat and it was still dark as ever outside as it neared four-thirty in the morning. Harry parked in her driveway, hurried to the door to open it, and pulled Rory into his arms. “I got him, love. You’ve carried him enough tonight,” he murmured. The tiredness was finally catching up to her and she let Harry pull him from her arms. Unlocking the door, she let the three of them in the house and Harry carried the sleeping boy to his room. She pulled his covers down so Harry could settle him in. Once all snuggled up, she kissed his forehead and sighed with relief as he slept soundly. Harry ruffled his hair gently. They left his room, and she closed the door quietly.

They walked wordlessly to the living room, and she sat on the couch leaning back against the cushions and staring at the ceiling blinking rapidly against more tears that were threatening to form. Harry sat beside her, so close he could feel the heat of her leg next to his. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, wipe that tear away that slid down her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For driving...for staying...for...” she shook her head. “Everything, Harry. Thank you,” it was so much undeserved gratitude. As if Harry wouldn’t reach into his chest at any moment and yank his heart out for her if she asked for it.

“Kitten...’course. Y’did all the heavy lifting,” he said and reached out to squeeze her knee. Her lower lip trembled violently, a sob threatening to bubble out of her chest which seemed so ridiculous now that all the danger was gone. The night must have been catching up to her all at once because at that moment she was crying soundlessly. Her chest aching and she started sniffling, she pressed a finger to her lips. “That was really scary,” she heaved.

“It was,” he nodded in agreement, his heart aching for her sadness, and nervousness. He watched her swallow around the pain that she was finally feeling of not knowing what would happen.

“I wouldn’t...if you weren’t...if you...if Rory—”

“Hey,” he said grabbing her hand from her mouth and bringing it to his own. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles so gently, it hurt her nearly broken heart all over again. He enjoyed the feel of her skin touching his lips and he pulled her up to a sitting position. He cupped her face with his other hand and rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. “M’here,” he promised. “Always. For both of you.” She looked so nervous; her lip still wobbled. “What, beautiful? What’s wrong, love?” His eyebrows pinched together worried that she was going to have a breakdown that she couldn’t have before in the hospital.

She was still wearing two different sneakers and Harry was still in his coat. If she had time to worry about her appearance, she would have thought about how stringy her hair looked from the soaking rain and how her eyes had to be red from a lack of sleep and all the crying.

“M’so in love with you,” she croaked. Harry felt his heart warm every crevice of his body. He imagined hearing those words from the moment he met her and missed the idea of them when she wasn’t speaking to him. He thought he would melt into a puddle. “I can’t be,” she admitted and Harry felt ice brick over his veins. “I have a son and he is going to be first for the rest of my life and I want to put you first and you don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who will love you and put you—”

The relief Harry felt in her explanation melted the ice threatening his veins all over again. An exhausted smile played at the corner of his lips. He shook his head as she spoke, not even listening to the rest of her sentence. “Kitten,” he said taking both sides of her face and bringing it closer to his. The tip of his nose bumped hers. “I love Rory. And I love you. ‘Course, we’re going t’put Rory first. S’why you’re the best mum in the world. But jus’ because he’s first doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a love of your own,” he told her.

Harry was worried she was so tired she didn’t actually hear him. “...We?” She whispered eventually. The tears were still falling. She felt broken. Felt entirely too vulnerable with someone she’s known for too long. With someone she shouldn’t feel vulnerable around. But the last time she was this vulnerable with someone she loved so much, it was thrown in her face, and she was left alone on a couch just like this.

Harry tilted his head at her looking at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Always, beautiful.”

“You love me?” She whispered. Harry nodded silently.

“So much,” he said.

“Really?”

“Truly.”

She wasn’t proud of the way she contorted herself in that moment, throwing herself at him like a teenager and not a twenty-seven-year-old mother of a kindergartner and kissing him like she had been dreaming about kissing him.

But Harry was too long gone to care and enjoyed the moment of utter bliss in kissing the sweet woman he adored for the last few years while her son slept healthily and happily in his bed upstairs.

--

@claimingharrystigertattoo @mopeymousey @vmpellie @reveriehs

[deathbystero]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨

𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐠𝐞 (𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝟏𝟗𝟑𝟔) - 𝟏𝟖 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐧 - 𝟏𝟗𝟏𝟖

Marko grew up in the early 1900s with his mother and siblings in a little house in Italy. He knew very little about his father for the man had died in a work related incident a little after he was born and his mother never seemed very open to discuss the topic further.

The family lived in poverty, rarely able to scrape together enough money from their meagre wages to feed everyone, and more often than not, there was no food at all. Marko did what he could to help out, but it was always down to his older siblings to bring in the money. At times, he was left feeling rather helpless, as if he was just an afterthought,  an unwanted burden on his mother's shoulders. He was another mouth to feed, another being to clothe and shelter. 

When there was nobody home, his siblings were usually forced to take him along when they went into town to sell their wares. As far as Marko knew, none of them ever made much money. His mother would make her own way in the world by sewing dresses and selling whatever she could find but it wasn’t enough. 

Eventually, when Marko had just turned thirteen, the dreaded letter came through the post, giving the family a month’s notice to pack up everything they owned before they were evicted and forced out onto the streets. It was a cold hard truth that had been long awaited, one that everyone in the family had known was coming but which none of them had truly believed. 

His siblings hadn’t stuck around, running off to start new lives just days before the eviction, while Marko was forced to stay behind, clinging to his mother like a scared child. She couldn’t afford to pay rent on even the cheapest of places and they didn’t have any relatives willing to let them stay over until they could get back onto their own feet again. So, with little left to offer, they packed whatever items they had left and ended up on the streets, surviving on the bare minimum. 

Marko's mother found a job washing dishes at a small inn, spending the money she made on alcohol and drinking herself into oblivion every night. He was forced to watch helplessly as she fell apart, unable to do anything other than be there for her as best he could, cleaning up after her and keeping her safe at night. 

While she was at work, Marko roamed the streets, stealing whatever he could get his hands on and eating what scraps he could find. He found himself hating his siblings, hating the idea that they'd gotten away so easily while he was stuck here with no money and an alcoholic mother to take care of. They were lucky. He wasn’t. 

One evening in August,when Marko was sixteen, his mother disappeared, never returning from work. He had tried searching for her, running up and down the streets like a lost puppy, wailing and calling out for her, but it was futile. The woman was gone and he was alone.

He returned back to their pitiful shelter and wept into the night, praying desperately that someone would come for him, would care for him. That night, he cried himself to sleep,  exhausted and starving, whilst he dreamt up a carefully formulated plan; a plan to flee the country and start anew. 

There was a boat, Marko discovered, set to leave early the next morning, taking both cargo and passengers to America. It was his only chance and so he grasped it  eagerly, leaving their sorry shelter behind in search of freedom and adventure.

He snuck his way into the storage hold where the ship was docked and hid under a blanket until dawn broke, the ship pulling away from land and taking him away from the only place he’d ever known and to somewhere entirely foreign. He held onto the hope that maybe things would improve once he found his way there, but deep down he knew he was being foolish. He was a sixteen year old boy, underfed and poor, who hardly spoke a word of English and had no family to fall back onto if all things went downhill. What could he possibly expect to find?  A life amongst strangers would not give him a better chance than he already had, who wouldn't spare him an ounce of pity even if he begged on his hands and knees? What was he thinking? He had to have been totally crazy. No sane person in his right mind would risk their life like this. And yet, here he was still trying. Still trying his hardest to make something of himself. 

The ship docked in America about a week after it’s departure, and Marko was greeted with a strange mix of excitement and dread. He'd been expecting something akin to Europe, but what lay before him was anything but glamorous or fantastical. He felt completely at odds with the people that walked past him,  some laughing and chattering loudly, others barely sparing him a passing glance. He was surrounded by strangers and so incredibly out of place. If anyone should've noticed him in the crowd, they gave no indication of it as they continued talking and laughing and chatting around him with equal gusto, unaware of his plight. 

He wandered about the bustling streets for hours, eventually finding an alleyway to curl up in and wait out his hunger pangs. He’d found very little food on the boat, taking what he could from crates and boxes without  much thought, not caring if he was eventually caught. His clothes were dirty and tattered, worn thin and threadbare, his shoes covered in dirt and grime, and he was positively sure he looked absolutely deplorable. Biting his lip against his inevitable tears, he buried his face into his knees,  hugging himself tightly, shivering violently. Sleep seemed like a far off thing,  impossible to come by as his thoughts kept circling around how utterly hopeless he felt, how utterly alone he was.

It wasn’t until several days later that his luck seemed to change, a not so dim light appearing at the end of the tunnel. He'd found a little abandoned warehouse full of art supplies; crates of leftover paint, paint brushes which had certainly seen better days, and canvases, most of which were torn and tattered, but usable nonetheless. 

Marko has gathered up everything he could get his hands on, seeing an opportunity to make some cash, and spent almost the entire day painting whatever came to mind. He was surprised at himself - he didn't remember the last time he painted, but somehow this was different.  Like he was drawing for the first time, like he was creating something entirely new. There was a sense of wonder that he couldn't explain, an awe he hadn't known since childhood. This wasn't about making money. This was about finding himself. 

When he finally emerged from the building, covered head to toe in brightly coloured paint stains and tired from lack of sleep, he decided he might as well try his best at selling what he had created, knowing that nothing else would provide him with any kind of income. It didn't matter that he lacked experience with art, that he was untrained. The paintings were his ticket. The only way out of this misery he lived in. 

And so he set about selling everything he had, working his hardest, desperate to make every penny count. And, boy, did people pay. It was almost comical at how careless the rich were with their money, throwing it at him with no regard as to what it might go towards, as long as they got whatever it was they wanted in return.

Marko was soon able to afford enough money for food and clothes, settling into the little warehouse and sleeping on an old uncomfortable mattress stuffed into one corner, surrounded by crates of paint and brushes.

He took pride in the fact that he had made something of himself, having managed to carve out his own niche with a little bit of paint and a couple of worn out brushes. He felt good about the fact that he had managed to become somebody, somebody who had a purpose, somebody that mattered in the world. 

When he turned 18, Marko took to wandering a little further into the city, searching for inspiration and finding plenty. It became routine for him;  he worked late nights painting whenever he was able, waking up with the sun so that he could spend the morning wandering before returning to paint once more. He sold his creations out on the streets, bought  meals and slept rough. He was happy. He felt complete. He should've been happy, content with his living situations, besides it was more than he'd ever thought he'd have, and yet he still felt as if something was missing. That loneliness still lingered, that hollow feeling that wouldn't go away. 

In November of his third year on the streets, Marko met two men whilst out wandering at night, shaking off the disturbance of a rather unpleasant nightmare. 

The first of the two was blonde, his hair messy in a styled kind of way, with piercing blue eyes and sharp, handsome features. The second was tall with dark hair and a strong jawline, seemingly just as striking as his friend. Both were dressed entirely in black and approached Marko much in the same way a predator would its prey, a smile adorning each of their faces. 

“Can I help you?” Marko asked quietly, his accent thick and heavy, despite his best efforts to hide it. 

The blonde one grinned, “You’re a runaway, aren’t you, kid?”

Marko hesitated for a brief moment, weighing up his options before nodding slowly.

The man reached out a gloved hand, offering to shake, “I’m David.”

“Marko,” Marko replied quietly, shaking his hand.

David nodded, seemingly satisfied. His friend said nothing. “Where are your parents?”

“My mother's dead…” At least that’s what he thought. 

“Your father?” David pressed.

“Dead too…”

“So… it’s just you then?” David questioned, tilting his head slightly. Marko nodded, looking down at the pavement. What did these guys want? Money, drugs, sex? Who knows, but Marko certainly wasn’t too keen on finding out. 

“Hey,” This time, it was  the other man, the brunette one, who reached forward, his hand landing upon Marko's shoulder. “We ain't here to hurt you, kid. We're here to help.”

Help?  Marko furrowed his brow.  “I don't need no help.” “Of course not,” David interjected before the boy could say any more, “But that doesn't mean we can’t offer it. You're young, lost and all alone in this world. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a friend or two?” 

A friend...  That’s what he’d been seeking, someone to rely on. Someone to show him that he wasn't completely alone in this. But was it really possible for him to turn to these strangers, especially after everything he'd been through so far? Could he trust them? They were probably just playing a trick on him. They'd probably planned to kill him and leave his body somewhere and never bother him again. So why should he believe them?

“Look,” David began, “I know we seem shady, but I promise we'll do nothing to harm you. Right, Dwayne?” 

The brunette nodded. “We just want to help.” 

This was a mistake. These two men could easily kill him, leaving him to die on his own somewhere. Or they could rob him. Or beat him senseless. Either option would be equally horrible.... but something about them told Marko that maybe they were being truthful. Maybe they did actually want to help him.  Maybe they meant what they said, because they weren't bad people.

“... okay…” Marko muttered softly, raising his eyes to meet theirs. 

The two men smiled, sharing glances between each other before turning back to Marko. “Great! Let's get going now shall we?”

Marko stared at them for a while longer,  trying to gauge if they were telling the truth or lying, before nodding slowly and following after them. 

Marko became the third member of Max's family that night, and for the first time in his life, he felt complete.

A/N: This is way longer than I'd expected it to be, and, although it started of a little bit shitty, I think it got better towards the end. As I've said before, this is my own take on things; none of what I have written is canon in any way, shape, or form and is simply a silly little thing I came up with over the x-mas break!

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Shuri x Reader No More Misunderstandings

Summary: One of your classmates overstep your boundaries and Shuri isn't having it.

Warnings: Violence, Attempted assault

"Alright make sure you go over the entire lesson tonight. We will be having the test tomorrow class is dismissed" The professor announced.

The entire class let out a collective groan as the professor just waved it off turning around to wipe his whiteboard clean. You dropped your head onto the desk letting out a sigh of exasperation. You were hoping the test would be put off until Friday, but then again this professor had a thing about. Not wanting to disturb his student's weekend fun.

In the beginning all of you thought it was a good thing a professor who didn't hold any important exams during the last two days before the weekend. But sometimes it could be annoying to have a test so early in the week. When most of you were still recovering from the after effects of partying too hard. The lesson here was don't party too hard, but that wasn't your problem. Parties weren't really your scene and you didn't really show your face at most of them. You were too busy trying to keep up with your classes, working an internship at one of the biggest news company in the world, and tutoring on the side. And tonight you had a three-hour tutor session with a close friend who needed it badly. Which left you with two options for studying for this test.

Cram in a last minute study session before class tomorrow, and pray that photographic memory will work its magic. Or pull an all nighter to study and catch up on sleep on the weekend.

You started packing up your bag knowing the professor would start rushing any remaining students out in a minute or two. When Aisha walked into the booth to stand over you. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it just as fast with a frown.

You looked up at her raising an eyebrow in confusion. "Can I help you Aisha?"

"I don't want to overstep my boundaries" she said still a little hesitant.

"With what?" You asked having a slight idea of what it was.

"You're tutoring Skylar tonight right?"

You nodded with a frown hoping she wasn't about to threaten you or anything. The two of them had started to date during the summer, but broke it off only a month ago. Rumor has it Aisha was the one to call things off, so why was she approaching you now about her ex was beyond you? You thought she was going to drill you for info on your relationship with a certain Princess. After you accidentally brought the relationship to light with a careless social media post.

"Don't think too much of what I'm about to say, but I don't think you should be the one tutoring her. Just tell her to go find someone else there are plenty other students who can do it" Aisha said.

"Maybe later this week but not so last minute and she has major quiz coming up tomorrow. I can't cancel on her last minute Aisha" You protested.

"Y/N trust me when I say its in your best interest to just not do it" she argued again. There was a little whine to her voice now.

"Wow not only did you break her heart but now you want her to fail her classes." You replied standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"There was a reason I broke up with her you know" Aisha shot back with hurt filled eyes.

You could tell that you had struck a nerve, and brought up some unpleasant memories. That's when it occurred to you no one really knew why she had broke things off with Skylar in the first place. Whenever someone tried to get her to open up Aisha would just shutdown the conservation. And it was crazy considering you and her use to be good friends until she started dating Skylar. After that both of them kind of started shutting you out, and after the breakup. Skylar came crawling back to you for a shoulder to cry on which you provided her with.

Which is why you were having a hard time believing this was anything other than her being the jealous ex, and trying to get back at Skylar for whatever reason.

"Whatever Aisha I got to go if you want to tell me what's the real reason I can't tutor her then you know where to find me. Our session starts in about an hour so please speak up before then if it's that important." You told her then pushed past her to leave but she caught you by the wrist.

"Y/N just wait I'm ser-"

You yanked your wrist free of her grip, and continued on your way. Aisha tried to call out for you to stop, but you were done with her games.

Aisha never came to your dorm where you tended to hold your tutoring sessions. You were one of those lucky students who didn't have to deal with a roommate. So the massive space was all yours, and you went all out on the decorations. Half of your dorm was renovated into a small work study space.

A knock came from the door pulling your attention from the pizza bagels that you were throwing into the oven. You always provided snacks when a session was going to last longer than a hour, and kept note of what people liked. You walked over to open the door, and indeed it was Skylar dressed in black basketball shirts, and a black tank top. No doubt the girl had just come from basketball practice her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she was grinning from ear to ear.

"Sorry for my attire I would've been late if I tried to make it to my dorm to change. Practice ran a little later than usual I swear coach was trying to kill us today. I did manage to shower before coming so I don't smell at least." Skylar said rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

You waved her off with a laugh and reached out to take her by the hand pulling her into the room. "Girl you're fine I tutor half of the football team, so trust me I've seen worse. Those boys tend to come to our sessions sweaty and all."

She grimaced at that. "And you let them in."

"It depends sometimes all they need is a quick wash off in a bathroom, but if its really bad then no" You told her.

She laughed dropping her gym bag in the corner of the study space. You already had everything you guys would need to start set up on a table by the comfy couch. Skylar fell back into the cushions and you sat down beside her.

"Snacks will be ready in about twenty more minutes we'll take our first break then let's get started."

"You really are the best y/n" she beamed.

It was an hour into the session when the two of you actually got around to taking a break. The pizza bagels had to be reheated, but that was the good thing about cheap food. Skylar was leaned back in the corner of the couch plate of food in her lap. When you returned with a soda for her and a water for yourself. You placed the soda on the table, and mimc her position letting yourself relax.

"So you and the Princess of Wakanda huh" she stated breaking the silence.

You threw your head back with a chuckle before replying. "Alright what do you want to know?" Skylar wouldn't be the first girl to try and get details of your relationship with Shuri. While usually you would just shut the conservation down and change the topic. You figured it wasn't a horrible idea to feed her some information. Nothing to revealing but just enough so she would have something to gossip about with the basketball team later. Rumors about you and Shuri were already starting to circulate around campus, and while none of them had reached your ears yet. You knew people were getting antsy and were coming up with their own theories. This way you get could get ahead of it and at least some of what would be said would actually be true.

"Are you happy?" Skylar asked almost a little hesitant. Your head snapped in her direction. She was staring down at her food as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

"Um yeah I am" You answered not hiding the tone of confusion in your voice.

She let out a low hum nodding her head. A few seconds went by before she spoke again. "I mean it can't be easy with the long distance thing you know."

"Its not but nothing in this world comes easy you know especially love. I think that's why so many couples don't last these days everyone is convinced that love is supposed to be the easiest thing in the world, and when things get hard. They choose to walk away instead of fighting for one another." You told her a dreamy expression taking over your face. Thoughts of Shuri and all your favorite moments flooded your brain.

"Yeah but its not just the distance I mean the girl is a Princess of a whole other country with like royal duties to attend to. Plus I mean people are saying she is the Black Panther now, so doesn't that make her an Avenger too. So on top of being in charge of an entire nation of people. She also has the save the world fro-" Skylar rambled on until you held up a hand to shut her up.

"Skylar I don't need you map out all the obstacles of our relationship. I knew what I was signing up for when we started dating. You're not telling me anything I don't already know" You snapped angrily.

"I'm just saying is there even room for you in her life? Don't you think you would be better off with someone like you." She argued setting her plate down on the table.

"Like me how" You said with your frown now turning into a scowl.

"I don't know normal I mean-"

"Skylar what is all of this about? What are you trying to accomplish with this conservation?" You questioned her the rage in your voice undeniable.

Skylar flinched at the tone and ran a hand through her hair letting out a sound of frustration. "I just want to make sure you're happy with her."

"Well I thought I made it clear that I was, but here you are trying to poke holes into my relationship."

"Because I think you would be happier with me" she cried getting to her feet. Skylar left the work space area to head to the kitchen.

It finally dawned on you the real reason as to why Aisha warned you not to tutor her tonight. "Sky why did you and Aisha really break up?"

"We weren't a good match for each other" she lied, and you could see it in her eyes.

"Try again" You demanded.

"Because I was into you I've always been into you since freaking high school y/n, and I thought Aisha would help me get over you but it wasn't working. She wanted me to stop being friends with you, and I tried at first but it really sucked. We argued about it and she dumped me" Skylar told you refusing to look in your direction.

This was all news to you while you and Skylar had known each other since freshmen year in high school, and were pretty close friends. You never thought the girl had feelings for you, but then again you were so focused on your studies in high school. You were oblivious to most teenage things like puppy love.

"I know what you're thinking y/n and what I feel for you goes way beyond some stupid crush. Okay I really really like you and I have for a long time now. I think you like me back too now you're just afraid to admit it."

That had you getting to your feet with your hands held up in front of you to ward her off. Skylar had started moving towards you but paused. "Skylar listen I'm sorry if I've been giving you the wrong impression these past couple of months. But I'm not into like that okay I just wanted to be there for you. I thought I was helping you recover from a broken heart. Not leading you on that was never my intention. I love Shuri."

It was as if you drove a knife in her heart with your last words as her expressions went from hopeful to hurt then anger. "Are you freaking serious y/n you never gave us a chance."

"There is no us Sky" You sighed in frustration moving away from the couch. As she started to advance on you again with a look of determination.

"Just one kiss alright" she suggested.

You frowned "fuck no."

"Why not? You that scared you might feel something for me" Skylar pushed now standing right in front of you.

"Listen you just need to leave okay" You ordered her backing up further into your bedroom space.

"All I want is one kiss your precious princess will never know, and you owe me at least that." Skylar insisted following you relentlessly. Before you could tell her to leave again she was on you gripping your waist painfully to pull your body against hers. You placed your hands on her shoulder to shove her away, but she stood her ground. Unfortunately Skylar was a seasoned athlete and that overall made her slightly stronger and bigger than you muscle wise. You started to retreat backwards but once again she matched your pace.

"Skylar let me go" You shouted pushing at her shoulders.

"Just one fucking kiss it won't kill you" Skylar shot back now sounding a bit more angry than before. The back of your knees hit your bed, and with a shove from her. You fell back onto the bed and before you right yourself. Skylar was on top of you attempting to kiss you on the lips, but you turned your head to the side.

"Skylar no I'm serious alright get the hell off of me" You told her trying to sound as forceful as you could. Panic was starting to kick in as you attempted to bring your knee up in her stomach to put some space between your bodies. "I said no."

There was a hint of desperation behind the hunger look in her eyes. Skylar wanted no needed this but you weren't about to give in. Just as you were feeling hopeless her weight was lifted from your body, and Skylar found herself flying through the air. A silent scream left her mouth as she flew back to hit the floor on her back. The impact made a loud thud sound mixed with her cry of pain.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to see who or what had got her off of you. Shuri stood in front of you with her back to you facing Skylar who had now recovered, and scrambled back into the door. The Princess was dressed in one of signature jumpsuit this one was black matched with some black Nike shoes. The most current ones to drop she stood tall over your now ex-friend.

Shuri slowly stalked towards the crying girl who winced when she attempted to climb to her feet. You couldn't see your girlfriend's face but didn't need to. In order to know she had a look of murderous rage from the way fear had gripped Skylar.

"Did your parents not teach you that no means no" Shuri finally spoke up. Her tone was dangerously calm and it sent chills down your spine.

"Princess um listen I-I-I um" Skylar stuttered out.

"Use your words usisidenge" Shuri snapped.

Skylar flinched but found her voice to plead her case. "I just misunderstood-"

"Did you not hear her the no or get off because I certainly did halfway down the hall" Shuri said cutting her off. With her super hearing the Princess was able to hear your struggles with Skylar from outside of the building. The distress in your voice is what made her rush up the stairs instead of using the elevator.

"Um yeah I did" Skylar admitted.

"Then what exactly did you misunderstand" The Princess asked her anger becoming more evident by the second.

Skylar was finally able to push herself up into a standing position, but before she could make a move to grasp the doorknob. Shuri was right in front of hair wrapping a hand around her thoart to slam her back into the door. Skylar cried out in pain but the cry turned into gasp for air as Shuri squeezed.

You finally regained feeling in your legs and jumped off the bed to run over to them.

"If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, or if she tells me you're giving her trouble. I swear you are going to wish you had never met y/n do you understand me?" Shuri seethed.

"Shuri stop you're too strong you're going to hurt her" You protested. Without thinking you grabbed the back of her jacket, and blinded by rage Shuri threw her other hand out knocking you away. She must have been somewhat aware of her actions, because of the force was only strong enough to make you stumble back. You tripped over your own feet and fell to the floor. If she had been using her full strength your body would've went sailing through the air.

Shuri turned her attention to you real quick to fix you with a stern glare. The message was clear stay back and let her handle this. While you were scared for what she might do to Skylar, and low key felt bad for her. Skylar brought it upon herself and kind of deserved it. Plus it not like Shuri had lost all control over her anger. Your ex-friend was able to take a few straggled breaths of air.

"Please I'm sorry Princess" she whimpered holding onto Shuri's wrist with tears pooling in her eyes.

"You're sorry you got caught" Shuri corrected her tightening her grip for just a second before relaxing it again. "You got any classes with y/n transfer out of them tomorrow. You see her coming down a hallway or into a building change directions. I mean it I don't want you anywhere near her, and don't let there be anymore misunderstandings Sky." Her tone was condescending when she used the girl's nickname.

Skylar nodded desperately pulling at her hand. "I understand" she pleaded. Just like that Shuri released her hold on her neck and took a step back. But the girl didn't dare move letting the Princess walk over to get her bag. Where she began to stuff her paperwork and textbook into it carelessly. Once she was done Shuri motioned for her to open to the door which Skylar did practically running out of it into the safety of the hallway. The Princess heaved her bag after her, and slammed the door shut.

For a few minutes there was just silence as Shuri kept her back to with her hands balled into fists pressed into the door. She was breathing hard trying to calm herself down. You were back on your feet now and walked over to her wrapping your arms around her waist from behind. You rested your head on her back and let out a soft hum. "My guardian angel."

Shuri let out a chuckle and turned around in your arms. You let out a yelp as she lifted you into her arms bridal style. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to push you I swear." She whispered her tone apologetic.

"I know" you told her.

She walked over to the bed and fell back onto it with you in her arms. You moved so your body was only lying on her halfway with your legs off to the side. "Who was that girl?" Shuri questioned her brows furrowing.

"One of my friends from high school she's never acted like that before. Apparently she's had feelings for me a while and I just didn't notice. Another girl tried to warn me not to tutor her I thought she was being the vengeful ex. I should've listened" You explained a bit ashamed. When you turned your head to the side Shuri gripped your chin bringing your face back to hers.

"Hey none of what happened is your fault you know that. You were just doing your job as a tutor Skylar was the one who screwed up" Shuri said. You could see her muscles tense when at the name.

"I know I'm lucky you came to the rescue. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Wakanda is in a pretty good place right now so I felt like they would be okay without me for a few days. I wanted to surprise you"

"Well you surely did" You whispered your lips only inches from hers now. Shuri closed the distance craning her head forward to mash her soft lips up against yours. You responded immediately kissing back with an urgency. While you wouldn't admit it seeing her rough house Skylar earlier and all protective had sparked something in you. It turned you more than anything. Your lips moved in sync with hers in not so gentle kiss. You bit her lip as you finally pulled away for air.

"Don't you have a test in the morning sthandwa" Shuri whispered as you nuzzled your nose into her neck. Her body heating up as you planted kisses on her collarbone.

"You're worth the failing grade" You replied back sealing your lips back onto hers. The kiss was brief as Shuri moved away flipping you around so you were under her body.

She put her lips to your ear "I am but I don't want to hear you cry about later."

Just like that Shuri righted herself chuckling at the pout on your face. "Don't worry you're going to have me to yourself all week entle. Which means we can also throw in some self-defense lessons as well."

"Alright that's fair" You conceded throwing yourself backward into the bed. Shuri had gotten up to get your textbook and was now settled beside you again.

"Come on now let's study for every question you get right it earns you a kiss."

[tired-reader-writer]

Ashaya backstory revamp

Ever since classes started again I have been consistently unable to either draw or write, and it's frustrating me a lot, so I'll just have to settle for making AU posts.

Andragoras and Tahamenay's child, that has not changed.

Given to some family in the Tabaristan region (formerly known as Mazandaran in ancient times), who were given hush money in exchange of raising them.

Ever since she was young, Sherine has noticed that she is... different.

Her parents leave her out. Her siblings pick up on that and leave her out too. Her parents don't treat her the same way they treat their other children.

Besides which, Sherine is not dumb. She realizes pretty quickly that she looks different from the rest of her family. Face too pointy. Hair too light.

People say she's a beautiful child.

Her parents seem determined to prove them otherwise.

Sherine is given more chores to do. Given plainer clothes. Made to stand behind her siblings at any given event.

She cries. She screams and struggles and stomps and yells in hopes that they'd listen, they'd know, this is unfair, she's their daughter too, isn't she? Sherine is—

Sherine is not dumb.

Sherine knows that whatever she is, she doesn't belong here.

People say she's a beautiful child.

Her family says she's nothing but trouble.

She wanders her hometown, sneaking off from doing chores at home. Spends her days scanning the faces of the townspeople— the merchants, the neighbors, the strangers, even the slaves. She looks and looks and looks, for any hint of similarity, any bit of resemblance, anything that might echo back to what she sees in the mirror, in the waters, every day.

Sneaks out of her house, flits from street to street, in a desperate bid to find someone, anyone, with some iteration of her features hiding amongst the crowds.

Stalks the family of that jolly grape seller from a couple blocks over, because they were light-haired like her even if the shades don't even come close to matching.

Hers is always different.

Hers is too peculiar.

Ivory-blond with rosy tips, hair of an outsider.

Mama beats her and sends her to bed without dinner.

Curling up in bed, hungry in a way that no amount of food would satisfy, Sherine thinks.

She doesn't belong here.

She isn't a child of this family.

She doesn't think she's even related to them.

Where are her parents?

Did they die? Is that why papa and mama take her in? Because they knew her parents?

Except, really, they mustn't have loved her parents, whoever they were, because if they did then surely they would treasure Sherine too. Right?

Right?

If they died and nobody here loved them, then why is she here? Wouldn't she have been put on the doorsteps of a temple or taken from the streets by... by...

She'll never get the image out of her head, a slaver, flogging a young boy barely older than her.

She's seen them, on her escapades, prowling the streets sniffing around for any abandoned baby by a roadside or in an alleyway.

She shudders thinking about it. Mama always says one of these days she's going to sell Sherine, too.

She's scared.

She doesn't know.

Whatever the case was, she was unwanted in some way. Is unwanted, right now in this present she lives in, unwanted by this family, unwanted by whoever decided to leave their daughter on this doorstep.

She clutches her aching stomach.

She doesn't sleep.

Day by day, night by night, she prays what little words she manages to remember.

Prays to be loved.

Prays to be found.

Prays to be...

To be...

There's a tale in this town.

If you wander deep into the woods, you'll find a dilapidated place.

They call it a temple. That's stupid. The building looks nothing like a temple.

Those who wander in, they say, come back wrong.

Come back days, months, years later.

No matter how long they take, they don't look a day older.

They were playing, her siblings and the other kids, they play, but she never gets included. They get mean when she tries. They always give her whatever's the worst.

She runs.

She runs and runs and runs until her legs burn and there's no air in her lungs.

She doesn't notice the butterflies frozen in air.

She doesn't notice the sudden stillness of the trees after a certain point.

Not until she trips.

There, on the ground, stained in mud and dirt and snot and tears, she curls up like she always does at night.

She's so hungry.

She hears their voices, a couple bushes over, arguing about the prey they were supposed to hunt.

They don't find her.

She bolts upright, startled, nerves tingling with something she doesn't know what to name.

She looks around.

Silence and stillness.

She should be afraid, she thinks. She should try to leave. To go home, to go find those dummies who didn't even see her when they were nearby.

But she thinks of their meanness, of mama's anger and papa's weird stares, of the prowling slavers wandering the streets.

Just a little bit, she thinks. Just a little longer. Just a little bit of peace. She'll take the beatings later, she'll deal with that when they catch her.

That's right.

She just has to not get caught for a little while longer.

[brain juices running out so this will be reverting back from story mode to summary mode, augh]

Anyways, she spends a long time (to her) in the woods and doesn't really notice that the sun isn't moving in the sky bc she's a little kid and she's too busy rolling around and having fun until she falls asleep out of exhaustion (both physical and emotional, since all the shit she went through finally caught up to her in a safe moment)

(you'll notice that in the story/narration part “Sherine” refers to themselves by she/her bc at the time they hadn't had the chance to realize y'know, the gender stuff)

Sherine wakes up, finds that it's night, and she can't find her way back.

(the haunted area actually booted her out so she's in a different spot of the forest)

Kid has an epiphany of sorts.

“She can't stay here.

Not anymore.

If she's so unwanted anyways, what harm would it do for her to disappear?

For her to leave?”

So she does.

Anyways, it's night, Farangis (with some clan adults) is wandering the area for a reason I have yet to fully decide on.

They meet.

Sherine is absolutely taken by this gorgeous lady.

One long conversation later while Farangis does her best to clean the kid up, it's abundantly clear that Sherine is Not Okay.

So they get taken!

And Sherine gets to chop off their hair and choose a new name.

But until she settles on a proper name she chose for herself, their temporary name is Ranna.

Sherine has a complicated relationship with girlhood because of the toxic standards that were forced on her by their “parents”.

Anyways that's how Ashaya comes to join the clan!

What I imagine a young ex-Sherine to look like as she leaves with Farangis.

Fun fact, Areyan is usually a sweet and gentle kid but for some unknown reason he and Ashaya regularly gets into fisticuffs.

They're 7 when they join the clan. Farangis is 15, she'd just come of age.

At some point I kinda wanted Ashaya and Alfarīd to have met in their younger years but I don't see that working out w this trajectory sooooo... oops.

Anyways, a look into Ashaya's trauma! Where their lack of hope and faith in the world stems from. I somehow couldn't get into it in the narration but her family house could own slaves, maybe, (still she gets made to do chores bc Double Standards), and on her escapades to find her parents or relatives in the town she gets to see a whoooole lot of violence thrown at slaves and poor commoners and it always stuck w them.

She tries questioning it once, they got punished.

Kinda echoes Alfarīd's hopelessness in the nation too, she did say in the manga “there's no point to restoring the nation, it'll just make new nobles and new slaves” and it's an attitude Ashaya holds, too.

It'll be up to them to find that hope again. Alfarīd would be the one to eventually give back hope to Ashaya, but for that she herself will have to believe.

Unlike in canon I don't really see Alfarīd coming to believe in someone changing the system, rather that there's something worth living for even in a broken world. I think she'd have an attitude like that. It just fits her.

(I'm reminded of the song Kamado Tanjirou no Uta from the AU playlist, and that one video from Hello Future Me about the Ghibli movie The Boy and the Heron.)

(“We did not choose this world. But we must live in it.”)

To elaborate on why Ashaya lost faith in the world, it's smth like, if something so terrible and hurtful like the slavery system is allowed to exist, if nobody batted an eye at the abuse she went through, if nobody thinks to hold abusers accountable, if people are rewarded with brutality for their kindness, then... there's nothing worth saving here.

In addition to their own abuse they also saw others being abused, remember that the clan is made up of runaways and hurt people and abandoned people and victims and survivors— almost nobody who comes to the clan... came from happiness.

Is it any wonder that their faith was broken?

In contrast, let's look at Alfarīd. Protective instincts, strong sense of justice, responsible if a bit chaotic, remember how in the manga Alfarīd urges Estelle to remember the women and children and injured they'd saved? That they must think of, that they must protect, instead of thinking about the King?

Alfarīd, I think, abhors the system, but still sees people and things worth protecting anyways.

(and not to jump all over like a kangaroo but let's talk about Farangis this time)

She's an orphan. She entered the temple of Mithra after her loss. She was too talented. Too diligent. Too beautiful. People shunned her because of it.

And I'm willing to bet there's aggression and subtle bullying, too.

Look, it's a closed community. That sort of place gets rancid real fast.

(I would know. I myself was trapped in a prison of a boarding school where my suicidal ideation got wayyyyyyy bad.)

So, y'know, Ashaya-as-Sherine is a reflection of her days in the temple. That's why she has a soft spot for her.

Farangis is one of the few people Ashaya will listen to.

Anyways that concludes thus the post about Ashaya!

[angelst4re]

tattoo!artist!jamie tattooing his full fucking name near as possible to your reader’s cunt (this was one of the prompts listed by someone else and you)

okay so this was and still IS one of my favourite ideas ever. and i really wanted to write and post it tonight so i'm hoping and praying that it doesn't feel rushed at all! although i think i did spend more time searching for this video (below) than i did writing it :( and yes i had to make the gif myself bc i couldn't find it anywhere :')

Good Girl- Tattoo Artist!Jamie x Reader

summary: you lose a bet against jamie...

warnings: jamie and reader are friends with benefits! NSFW! smut, oral (reader receiving), sex toys, briefly mentioned pain kink? (that probably has a name, i'm too tired to think rn!)

note: NOT PROOF READ </3 this fic is super unrealistic, let's just pretend everything that happens here is safe! (i also don't know how tattoos work, i've mentioned this before haha) also it's almost Jamie's birthday :) i might post a super cute fluffy fic for his day :)

As you walked from your car into the tattoo studio, you thought about what led you to this decision. It was such a terrible idea, but you lost a bet after all, you had to do it. 

When you and Jamie were out at a bar, he had made a bet that the bartender would ask for your number. You had told him that was stupid! Clearly the bartender had seen you were with Jamie, he wouldn’t dare ask for your number! Would he? 

He did. And that is what led you into this, all because you lost a bet. 

You sat down in the waiting room, pulling your tiny skirt down as it was barely covering anything- not that anyone would see, the tattoo studio was closed, it was only you and Jamie there. 

“Ah, I see you’re on time.” Jamie says with a smirk, leaning against the door frame. He wore a black t-shirt and had his hair pushed back, a pair of circular glasses resting on his face. 

He motioned for you to follow him as he led you to a room, you picked up your bag and followed him, your heart racing in your chest. 

“I can’t believe you agreed to this,” he chuckled. 

“Well, I can’t say no to a dare, can I? I’m not a pussy.” You tried to act like you weren’t terrified, like your hands weren’t shaking as you slightly bent down and placed your bag on the floor. 

“Whatever you say,” he snickered, “shit there’s no gloves in here… I’ll go and get some from another room. Get yourself comfortable, darling- oh, and you might need to take that pretty thong off.” He added before leaving the room. 

Shit. 

You knew he was going to tattoo somewhere close to your cunt, that’s why he told you to wear a skirt, but you didn’t think it would actually be there. 

Swallowing the last of your dignity, you slipped off your red lace thong, throwing it towards your bag before lying down on the table, adjusting the pillow a few times before you were finally comfortable. 

“Sorry about that, it looks like we need to order some more gloves in,” Jamie said as he returned, shutting the door behind him, “you ready, love?”

You nodded your head, followed by a quiet “yes.” 

He got all the equipment ready before pulling a chair up beside you and lifting your skirt up at an agonisingly slow pace. His (now gloved) thumb rubbed just inches above your clit, and it felt cold, causing your hips to buck slightly, arousal now replacing your anxiety. 

“Baby, I can’t have you moving about whilst I do this, okay? Stay still for me.” 

You have known Jamie for 6 years now, and in that time you had been fucking on and off, in and out of relationships with other people, you’d spend weeks together and then not see each other for months, but one thing was for sure- you were his and he was yours. You would always come back to each other in the end, so you knew you wouldn’t regret this. 

“Are you ready?” He asked one final time, before turning on the damned machine. 

You let out a gasp as you felt the needles working into your skin. You had gotten tattoos before, but none of them had ever felt like this. Although it hurt, you liked it, but you wished you could feel some stimulation on your clit. 

“Jamie,” you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut. 

“Yes, darling?”

“Can you… can you…”

“Can I… what?” He asked, stopping abruptly. As if his patience was running short. That’s when his eyes dropped, focusing on your pulsing heat. “Awhh, was that turning you on, baby?” He mocked. 

You nodded your head in shame, and he just laughed, getting ready to continue. You quickly grasped his wrist, stopping him. 

“Jamie, please, I need-”

“What? What do you need?” 

“Can you touch me?” You asked, growing shy as you realised how desperate you sounded. 

He smirked, placing everything in his hands down on the table beside him, pulling one glove off before spreading your folds with his index and middle finger. 

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He gasped, running a finger through your folds, before focusing on stroking your clit. 

You threw your head back, you were so worked up already that just his finger on your clit was enough for you to cum, but then he asked you, 

“Did you bring what I asked you to?” 

“I did… it’s in my bag.” 

When he removed his hand from you, you let out a whine, you were so close to your high before he moved, wheeling his chair over to your bag. He chuckled at the sight of your panties, taking them and slipping them into his pocket before pulling the item out of your bag- the baby blue dildo he had bought you. 

He wheeled himself back over to you and without warning, you felt the toy rubbing against your heat. It was soon covered in your slick and Jamie grinned, pushing it inside of you slowly as your nails dug into his wrist. 

“Shit…” You whimpered, “feel so full.” 

“Is that what you needed, darling?” He asked, leaving the toy inside you as he got a clean glove out, “poor little slut.” He chuckled, picking up the tattoo machine again before continuing his work. 

As he spelled out the ‘J’ and ‘A’ of his name, he couldn’t help but watch as your cunt continued to pulse around the toy, your clit begging for stimulation. He held your legs apart, stopping you from rubbing your thighs together like you so desperately wanted. 

He had now spelt out ‘JAMI’ and decided to just spell his first name, he would then give you what you needed. It was driving him mad watching your pretty pussy beg for his attention as he worked above it. 

When the ‘E’ was finally complete, he took off his glasses, wiped down his work and applied something to it, your mind was too fuzzy to think about what it could be. 

It felt like your prayers were answered when you felt his lips wrap around your clit, catching you by surprise. 

“Oh my god!” You whined, your hand coming down to tangle your fingers in his hair. 

He sucked harshly on your clit, needing to see and feel you release. He slowly pulled the toy out of you before pushing it back in, repeating this action until your thighs trembled either side of his face. 

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m gonna… Jamie, please! Can I cum…”

“Of course, baby. You were such a good girl,” he says against your pussy, the two of you felt euphoric, as if you could get high on sexual tension, “cum for me, darling.”

With one harsh suck of your clit between his lips and the feeling of his teeth grazing your sensitive nub, you came with a loud moan. He worked you through it, pulling the toy out of you and placing it on the table beside him, his mouth moving down to ‘clean’ you up. 

As his tongue now prodded against your hole, you felt his nose graze your clit. Your body shuddered at the touch as you were currently extremely sensitive, he loved this. Seeing the reaction it caused, he purposely did it again, a little harder this time, causing you to grab his shoulder and attempt to pull him away. 

“Enough, too much, please…” you babbled, and he placed a kiss on your clit before lifting his head back up, looking you in the eyes and giving you a smile, you smiled back lazily as he stood up, searching the cupboard for something. 

“Would you like to see it?” Jamie asked, handing you a mirror. 

You held the mirror down, noticing the sticky mess that was your cunt, and then the tattoo above it, reading ‘jamie.’ 

“Do you like it?” He asked, in an almost teasing tone. 

“I guess,” you smirked, sitting up. 

“Don’t stand straight up, darling. You’ve been lying down for a while, let me clean you up properly first.” 

You remained seated as he retrieved some wipes from another room. When he returned, he spread your legs again and cleaned up the mess he caused, trying his best not to touch your clit. 

“Wanna come back to my place?” He asked as he cleaned you up, as if this was the most normalest thing that had ever happened. Your eyes were level his crotch as he stood above you, and you noticed he was hard underneath the restriction of his jeans, you tilted your head and gave him an innocent smile. 

“Sounds fun, why not?” You said, standing up and collecting your bag, “only if you plan on giving my underwear back, that shit was expensive.”