#i got this request and began to FROTH. anyway i will Not see any of the others until i finish this albedo piece brrr

[simplygojo]

I Like Your Tie...

A/n: OMG ONE OF MY FAVS REQUESTED! I loved this request; thats why it took SO LONG I’m sorry my friend I hope you enjoyyyy!! <3 I needed another Nanami request so bad so you did me a favour with this one, LOLLL.

Request: “Your last Toji fic got me frothing like a rabid dog. Lol. in all ways it was very uniquely him indeed ! The same for Gojo and Witch!Reader. Could I shy request a fic with the song 'Talk' by Hozier paired up with Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader ? Something sensual steamy but ever so romantic for the blonde? I can practically see him saying or thinking such lyric quotes as "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do... So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you. Imagine being loved by me". May she's a fellow Special Grade sorcerer, and their friendship keeps building up, but neither wants to cross the line ? So they dance around it, until something happens ? Idk. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< I'll leave it to your artistic hands and imagination what to do with this? If you feel inspired to. In any case, please delete if this seems rubbish. Anyway, thank you for your stories ! Thank you so much. ♡” - @erebus-et-eigengrau (lurvv uu)

My requests are always open :)

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f/reader

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+ Content, SMUT!, intercourse, light choking, control kink(ish), pet name

The late-night quiet of Jujutsu High was comforting in a way—no students rushing through the halls, no teachers around to monitor. You had been grateful for the peace, retreating to your room after a long day.

But as you reached your door, you stopped in your tracks.

There he was. Nanami Kento stood in front of your door, leaning casually against the wall. 

—

You and Nanami had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, though it all began back in high school. Back then, you had a bit of a crush on him—not that you’d ever admit it. He wasn’t the type to flirt or give much attention to relationships, but there was something about him that always caught your eye. 

You had your moments, too—shared laughter, and private conversations late into the night, when the walls between friends almost seemed to blur. 

But Nanami never made a move, and neither did you. You knew how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, and you didn’t want to complicate your friendship with feelings that you weren’t sure were mutual.

As you both graduated and eventually became high-level sorcerers, those moments of potential intimacy became even more distant. You grew into your own roles, taking on increasingly dangerous missions and fighting curses that most could barely comprehend. Nanami was often assigned to the same missions as you, his calm, steady presence a source of reassurance when things got chaotic.

There were times when his professionalism would slip, just for a moment. A fleeting look, a brush of his fingers against yours, his voice dropping an octave when he spoke your name. You always wondered if he felt it too—that same tension you tried so hard to ignore. But you never dared to ask, afraid of what it might mean if the answer was yes.

And now, standing in front of him in the quiet after everything that had just happened, you realized just how deeply those old feelings still ran.

There were times, though, when your old crush resurfaced. 

Sometimes, it was the way he’d look at you across the battlefield, silently checking to see if you were okay, his eyes filled with a concern that was more than just professional. Other times, it was the rare, gentle touch when he’d help you after a fight—his hand brushing your arm or waist as he steadied you after a particularly tough encounter.

But you always pushed those feelings down, refusing to acknowledge them for the sake of professionalism. 

The sorcery world didn’t leave much room for distractions, and you knew that Nanami was as dedicated as ever. He was the picture of control, never letting emotions dictate his actions, always focused on the mission at hand. You convinced yourself that whatever crush you had on him was just remnants of your high school days, a fleeting fantasy that had no place in your current life.

—

His arms were crossed, his tie long loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. The dim lighting of the hallway cast a shadow over his sharp features, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced. He looked every bit the composed man he always was, but something about the way his gaze followed your every movement made your heart stutter.

“Nanami…” His name left your lips in a quiet murmur, not expecting to see him there, not like this.

“You’re out late,” he observed, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if the stillness of the night demanded it.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, one of the first-years wanted some late-night training…What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking down to your lips before settling back on yours. 

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, making it hard to think clearly. His usual restraint seemed to falter, just slightly, but enough to make your pulse race.

“I was waiting for you.” His voice was steady, but the words made your breath hitch.

Your heart pounded in your chest. 

“Waiting for me?” You said quietly, a heat beginning to pool between your thighs.

Nanami pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate. The space between you closed as his tall figure made its way toward you—the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally came to a boil. 

“Why were you waiting for me..?” You questioned, “I need to talk,” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“I used to try to talk so refined, in fear of you finding out…” He admitted, his voice lower now, almost rough around the edges. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. 

“Finding out what, Nanami.” You breathed, watching how his lips parted just slightly while he paused. “How I’ve been imagining you." 

The air between you was thick with tension, so heavy you could almost taste it. Nanami stood inches away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His normally professional demeanour had cracked, revealing something raw, something primal. The careful distance you both had maintained was no longer there.

"Imagining me…?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it.

Nanami’s eyes darkened, and his gaze roamed over you in a way that left your body practically squirming under his scrutiny. His jaw clenched for a moment as though fighting some internal battle, but when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, filled with a desire he was no longer trying to hide.

“Every time I look at you,” he confessed, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you, “I think about how you’d feel under my touch… under me.”

Your breath caught, your throat suddenly dry as his words sank in. The image of his hands on your skin, the weight of him pressing against you, the feeling of him between your legs—it sent a wave of heat through your body, leaving you borderline trembling with anticipation.

“Nanami…” you whispered his name, your voice trembling with the same desire that was now coursing through you. The distance between you felt unbearable.

The professionalism you both held onto so tightly was crumbling, and the temptation to give in was overwhelming.

The hallway was too quiet, too intimate, and it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away. It was just the two of you, standing there on the precipice of something dangerous and irresistible.

“I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper as his thumb traced your jawline, gently tilting your head with two fingers. His eyes darkened with want, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

That was all it took. The pull between you snapped, and before you could think, your hands were fisting in his dark blue shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was heated, desperate—inevitable.

His hand swiftly opened your door before pushing you into it, causing both of you to stumble into the dimly lit room. With a loud thud, Nanami kicked the door shut before pushing you back up against your entryway wall.

Nanami groaned softly into your mouth—your pussy practically throbbing at the sound—and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the idea of any space between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected, and it left you breathless.

You gasped when his hands gripped your hips firmly, pushing more firmly against the wall. The cool surface against your back was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him as he pressed himself closer, his lips never leaving yours.

His kisses were deliberate, slow—but rough—as if he wanted to savour every moment of this. 

"Mmf…Nanami," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen from the kiss, breathless. "What are we doing?"

His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged as he looked down at you. There was something raw, unguarded in his expression. “What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. “Now be a good girl for me, y/n.” He practically purred against your lips, as he lifed you so your legs wrapped around his waist. 

His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding up your sides while you were pinned against the wall, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You tugged at his hair, your fingers desperate to feel more of him.

His hands, rough from battle and years of work, were surprisingly gentle as they slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your painfully hard nipples, teasing you. You arched into him, your body responding to every touch.

He made quick work of your jacket—and that tiny tank top you wore underneath it, his hands roughly reaching for every bit of exposed skin.

Nanami growled softly with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that had you moaning his name.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his breath hot against your neck, but the fire in his eyes told you stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Don’t," you whispered—pleading with him for more, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Don’t stop."

Nanami’s eyes darkened further at your words, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. 

His hand moved up to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, fingers working quickly to loosen it even further. Before you could register what he was doing, he slid the tie off entirely, his movements deliberate and slow as he looped the fabric around your neck.

The silk felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged at the tie, pulling you closer, the pressure on your throat light but enough to send a thrill through you that went straight to your now-soaked pussy.

“There,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over the side of your neck as he admired how the tie looked wrapped around you, it falling on your bare chest. In a moment, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower this time as his free hand continued to explore your body. He kissed a path down to your chest, the tie around your neck tightening just slightly as he pulled you even closer.

He brought you to the couch in your small room with one hand while the other held the back of your head as his tongue explored your mouth.

“You look so beautiful like this, do you know that, y/n? With my tie around your pretty little neck…” He murmured against your skin, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered need. 

Hoisting you up onto the back of the couch, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs, and the contact made you gasp. 

With one swift but gentle movement, Nanami slid your skirt and tights down your legs, and now you sat in front of him—completely vulnerable.

“Nanami—” Your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers returned, pressing more firmly, the slow, torturous circles he drew making your entire body tremble. The tie tightened just a fraction more as he leaned back to look at you, his thumb brushing against your clit in a way that had your heart racing even faster.

“You’re so responsive for me,” he growled softly, his fingers entering your dripping cunt slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your interior. “It’s driving me insane.”

You could barely breathe, the combination of his fingers between your legs and the light pressure of the tie around your neck leaving you a trembling mess in his arms. You clung to him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you fought to hold on, your body betraying you with every ragged breath and every desperate moan.

"Nanami, please..." You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and breathless as you begged for him.

He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You want more, don’t you?” He asked, his voice thick with amusement, but the tension in his body told you he was just as desperate as you were.

You nodded, your head falling back as your body arched into his touch. “Please…”

The sound of your begging seemed to snap something in him. With one swift motion, he lifted you up with one arm and spun you around before setting you on your feet in front of him, your ass pressing up against his bulge as the cool leather from the couch pressed against your lower abdomen. 

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers slipped inside you again, making you gasp loudly at the sudden (welcomed) intrusion. 

“I want to hear you beg for me again,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity. His other hand subtly undid his belt, lowering his pants just enough to expose his desperate cock.

You moaned, arching into his hand, your body betraying you as it responded to every touch, every whisper of his breath on your skin. “Nanami...hmmf…please...I-I need you in me.” You managed to get out between moans.

“That’s it,” he growled, his fingers exiting you, but they were quickly replaced by his dick as he inserted himself into you—feeling you stretch around him caused him to throw his head back in pleasure, and he gave a little yank on the tie, your head jerking backwards as your stomach pressed harder into the couch, provoking a pornographic moan to exit your lips.

“Fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each stroke thrusting deeper into your gummy walls, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good.”

His pace quickened, and the slow, deliberate rhythm gave way to something more primal and desperate. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in every rough thrust, every growl that rumbled from his chest as he claimed you completely.

The tie tightened again, the silk digging into your skin just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the sensation sent you spiralling toward the edge. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped for breath, the intensity of it all overwhelming.

He leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper into you. He gently moved your hair off of your shoulder as his delicate fingers traced the border of his tie and your skin. “You really are such a good girl.”

His thumb pushed into clit as he thrusted into you at a dominating pace—the sensation was nearly enough to push you over the edge—but you held on a little longer. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking as his pace quickened, he tightened the feeling around your throat with the tie around your neck pulling you closer to him.

Nanami’s body moved behind you, the warmth of him pressing against your back as his hands gripped your hips. Bent over the back of your couch, with the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed skin. “Mmhf–Nanami…Oh please.” You moaned out, practically begging him for more as he fucked you with a controlling pace

His breath was heavy, ragged, as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, making you feel the sheer size and strength of him as he dominated you completely.

Nanami’s fingers wrapped around his tie nicely wrapped around your neck, pulling it taut. The sensation made you gasp, your head tilting back slightly as the silk tightened around your throat just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. Suddenly he took his soaked dick out of you letting it land on your ass, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin.

“You look just perfect like this,” he growled low in your ear, his voice thick with lust as he tugged the tie just a bit tighter, your chin tilting up as he whispered in your ear. “Bent over—begging for me.”

Your legs trembled beneath you, your body quivering with anticipation, but before you could respond, he was inside you again. 

The stretch was immediate, deep, and overwhelming as he thrust into you from behind, filling you completely with a single stroke. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he pulled you back against him, the tie keeping you tethered, under his controlled.

“Nanami…” You moaned his name, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper as he began to move, his hips snapping against you in a relentless rhythm. Every thrust was harder than the last, his grip on the tie tightening with every movement, pulling you back into him, forcing you to feel every inch of him.

His pace was brutal, his control slipping entirely as he watched the way your body reacted to him, the way you moaned his name with every stroke. His free hand found your hip, gripping you so tightly that you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow, but the thought only sent another wave of arousal through you.

“You feel so good, y/n,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “My good girl...”

His words are what sent you over the edge, the stimulation of your orgasm turning your vision white. 

Your body was on fire, every nerve alive with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. The tie around your neck tightened even more, the pressure just enough to leave you lightheaded, completely at his mercy. You felt every inch of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, along with your breathless moans as pleasure washed over you.

Nanami's body pressed closer as you shuddered beneath him, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through you. 

But he didn’t stop. 

Even as your body trembled, oversensitive and breathless, he kept thrusting into you with the same relentless intensity. His pace didn’t falter, and each stroke seemed deeper, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you clenched around him.

Your moans turned to gasps as pleasure mixed with the overwhelming sensation of him continuing to push you past your limit. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin with a painful force, but he didn't slow down. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.

“Look at you, taking it so well," he groaned, his voice dark and full of praise. "You feel so good, I don’t want to stop.”

Your legs shook around him, your body still pulsating from your release, and the overstimulation had you crying out, your nails leaving marks along his back. 

"Nanami... please..." you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going. You felt like you were being consumed, every nerve on fire, and yet your body responded to his touch, desperate for more.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, his hand still pressed firmly against your clit drawing rough circles. The tie around your neck tightened just a bit more, enough to remind you of the control he had, the control you were willingly giving him.

“I’m not done with you yet," he growled, his thrusts growing rougher, faster, his body taking full control over yours. "You can come again for me, can’t you?"

You didn’t know how it was possible, but the overwhelming pleasure began to build again inside you. His touch on your clit was insistent, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless, teetering on the edge of something even more intense than before.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation and pleasure merging into something maddening. Every nerve was alight, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. You were already too sensitive, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the brink once again.

Nanami could feel it—he knew exactly how close you were, how your body tensed around him. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again, y/n. I want to feel you fall apart around me baby.”

With that, his fingers pressed harder against your clit, and his hips slammed into you at a brutal pace, each thrust sending you spiraling further out of control. The pressure inside you coiled impossibly tight, and with a cry of his name, you shattered once more, the intensity of your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your body shook uncontrollably, your moans turning to sobs of pleasure as you convulsed around him. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and yet you never wanted it to end. Nanami’s name fell from your lips like a prayer as he continued thrusting into you, his own breathing growing more ragged, more desperate.

"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched you unravel beneath him, his pace rapidly increasing. "So fucking beautiful."

He wasn’t far behind. The way your walls clenched around him, the way you shook with each thrust, sent him over the edge. 

His pace grew erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning your name as he came. He tugged at the tie harshly, yanking you up form your bent over position so yoru back was against his sweaty chest, his hand gently holding your chin up. 

“You were so good for me,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, igniting a spark in you again. You remained silent for a few moments, breath staggered as you tried to catch it, still shaking with pleasure as he held you upright in front of him. 

Finally, you opened your mouth to speak, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, “I like your tie…”

[starry-pierrot]

Our Kits

Narinder hadn't expected his life to go this way but he can't say that having a pregnant spouse isn't something he's come to enjoy. He just hopes he can handle the responsibility. ------ Tw: Lamb fluff pregnancy, birth (Nothing graphic), mentions of fluids, cute newborns.

Characters: The Lamb(NB), Narinder, Bishops, Rose (my oc), Aym and Baal mention

------------ Woop woop! We got another one! This one is based off @doughyfluff 's super cute pregnant Lamb art. I for one an frothing at the mouth for their art and I couldn't help it! Dms are always open to screech at me Marz wink wonk. Anyway enjoy! EDIT: OOPS-Please keep in mind this is only based off someone's comics, it is not a direct storyline nor 100% canon on how they imaged things. Just for fun!

The sun poured in through the window as the night became morning, lighting up the room of the temple in a soft glow. Chirping birds making a fluffy ear twitch before a body in the shared bed began to shift and move. Lamb cracked open their eyes and as gently as they could they sat up and stretched with a yawn. 

Already they could feel their body being more tired than it usually would without the circumstances, but they needed to go and prepare for a ritual. They couldn’t just ignore their duties despite how large their belly had gotten. Some light toast and maybe a meat bowl sounded good, Heket probably has their special order at least prepared by now for breakfast. 

But before they could slip out of the bed Lamb felt warm arms slip around their middle and gently hold their stomach as a warm body leaned against them. “Good morning, mama,” the sound of Narinder's gravely voice sparking their heart to beat just a little faster and their cheeks to warm.

“Eeep! Narinder!” Lamb chuckled as they looked back at him, that third eye staring up to them with an adoration they weren’t ever sure they’d get used too. 

“You’re up early.” Narinder continued. 

“Well…I do have a ritual to prepare for. You know, being the leader and all.” At this Narinder’s face scrunched up in displeasure, usually he would be just fine with handling any cult business but lately he’s been quite more favorable to just stay in bed. 

“Don’t bother, it's a Holy Day.” Narinder moved with them as they stood up, his arms wrapping ever tighter around them. Kisses on their neck to tempt them to stay in bed. 

“You know I can’t do that.” Lamb tried to pull away to get away before they were trapped, a smile on their lips before another yawn took over. 

Suddenly their cat began to purr. “You are their god,” his hands began to run along their pregnant belly as the purrs only increased in volume, “and as your high priest I request a Holy Day.” His fingers rubbing little circles into their soft wool, “And as your husband I demand more bedtime.”

Lamb tried so hard to ignore him, tried to move away but those bastardly hands were keeping them right where he wanted them. Then a little nibble to their ear finally made them sigh and sag back against the warm body behind them. “Alright alright!” They laughed as they were gently dragged back into the bed, covers pulled over them. “I suppose another hour wouldn’t hurt.” 

Soon the two were back in a tangled web of limbs and pillows, Lamb quickly fell asleep but Narinder seemed to rather be enjoying just holding them. Looking at them as they breathed deeply, safe and warm in their bed. Looking down he could see the bump showing through the blankets and an ever more loving smile came across his face. 

Never had he thought he’d end up like this. The High Priest of his usurpers cult, his own brood on the way and he even had his family here with him. They were all so different from back then. Back when they had all hated each other. And he had the Lamb to thank for that. 

When he had first learned that the Lamb was pregnant he was excited! But also incredibly nervous to the point that he had asked Shamura for every single book they had on raising children. 

“I am to assume Lamb is with child?” Shamura had asked him, despite his injuries he seemed to be quite cognizant at times. 

Narinder of course didn’t expect Shamura to realize it so soon, feeling his cheeks heat under his fur. “....yes.” 

“Oh happy day.” 

Every night he had been reading at least one book before bed, Lamb had thought it was adorable and teased him little about it. 

But as time went on he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be ready enough for them. He of course did what he could and tried his best, through the morning sickness, crusade mood swings and even that first kick the Lamb felt. That had been one of the best days of his life. 

Though if he was honest with himself he was nervous. Scared. Could he raise his kits? Would he be a good parent? What if he did something wrong? All fears the lamb insisted were unfounded. He had to trust them right?

And as he began to feel his eyes droop he couldn’t help but think that at least Lamb would be with him. He wouldn’t be in this alone like with Aym and Baal.

He was in love. His family was back in his life. 

He wouldn’t be alone.  

—---

The weather was nice and cool as Narinder went to Mess Hall to pick up dinner for himself and the Lamb, they were getting much closer to their due date and he didn’t want them to walk if he could help it. A chuckle passed his lips thinking about how big they’ve gotten, it was a little comical with how small they were, often pouting about not being able to move as well as they used to. Narinder however thought it was adorable and took every chance to pepper that belly with kisses and purrs. 

Walking in he quickly slipped into the back, Heket was working on cleaning up and only gave him a glance in greeting. “Are these the ones?” he asked her. 

Heket gave a little sound of annoyance, “Yep…..how’s…lamb?” She asked while she washed the dishes, she had also been one to guess what was going on early. Considering the lamb had been taking more food , which had displeased her.  

“Annoyed about being in bed all day but doing fine. They have been requesting more meat bowls with those spices you like to save.” The Lamb had begged Narinder to ask Heket for more, though Heket usually liked to keep those special spices to herself. 

A huff as the frog rolled her eyes, “Only….because they’re…gravid.” She agreed, “I’ll make…some for…late night snacks.” Heket was amused at just how demanding the Lamb could be sometimes. Of course they were polite about it but even she could tell if she ever said ‘no’ there would be hell to pay. Not that she’d deprive a pregnant lamb of food. 

“Thank you, sister. You can just leave them here and I’ll pick them up later.” Narinder picked up the bowls and made his way back out the door, his tail giving her a short pat on her back on his way. It didn’t take him long to get to the temple, the large building quiet as he stepped inside. 

Though with his sensitive hearing he could hear what sounded like panting, the ear flicking as his brows scrunched a bit. Quickly moving up the stairs he gently pushed open the door that led to their bedroom, “Lamb, I’m back with the food. Heket said she’ll make you more of those spic-” he stopped. 

Lamb was sitting on the side of the bed, their legs spread and their tunic wet and dripping. They looked at him with a bit of a chuckle, “H-hey, Nari. Um…my-uh-my water broke.” Oh how they had the composure to look shy he would never know. 

“How long ago?” 

“Um-about an hour-ow!” Suddenly a wince had Narinder's fur puff out. Placing the food on the dresser he wasted no time in suddenly scooping the lamb up into their arms. 

“Wh-Narinder!” Lamb squeaked. 

“We’re going to the medbay. Now!” Oh he was not ready for this. Sure he’s read all the books he could find but actually being in this situation was not something he was mentally prepared for. What did the books say? It could take up to a couple of hours to a whole day for labor to actually begin to start but sometimes it could also start sooner than that. Before he knew it he was walking through the medbay tent, “Kallamar!’ 

The squid jumped at the shouting of his name, almost dropping a syringe, “Narinder how many times have I told you not to yell in the-oh dear.” The squid quickly put what he was doing down, telling an assistant of his to continue as he rushed over. “When did their water break?” 

“About an hour ago.” Narinder responded for them, Kallamar took a quick look over before bringing the both of them over to a bed to sit the lamb down on. 

“Any contractions?” Kallamar asked. 

“M-maybe? It uh-just feels like cramps.” Lamb answered. 

Kallamar hummed, “You might be having some Braxton Hicks. If it’s only been an hour it might be too early just yet.” Gently the squid felt around their abdomen, ignoring the slight hiss from Narinder, “Are they constant or coming and going?” 

“Coming and going…I uh-haven’t felt one since Narinder picked me up.” 

Pulling away Kallamar hummed once more, “Alright it seems you’re in the very early stages. You could stay here for now but I recommend getting a good walk in to maybe help it along.” 

“Wait, that's it?” Narinder asked as he looked at Kallamar confused. 

“That’s it for now. There's nothing we can do until they’re in active labor. It could take a couple of hours for their body to prepare. Just come back when you have constant cramps, but maybe don’t stray too far from the medical tent. I’ll alert my nurses to check in on you every once in a while.” Though the squid took one more look over the Lamb, “…maybe we should change them out of that soaked tunic first.” 

After a quick change of clothes Narinder and the Lamb were walking about the cult. With Narinder carrying them out in a soaked tunic earlier it didn’t take too long for word to get around that the Lambs child might be born soon. Though it seems the cult has a good mind to keep their distance for the time being. Leshy however-

“So whatya gonna name it?” the worm asked, “Better be something cool. Only a dork like Narinder would choose something lame.” 

“Leshy.” Narinder growled out, “I think Lamb would appreciate-” 

“He’d pick something like Nemo. Or Orion.”

Lamb couldn’t keep the smile off their face as Narinder just sighed, his hand rubbing their lower back. “We haven’t picked one yet. I want to meet them first.” 

“Going for the personality check then. Sweet. I call dibs on being the first uncle to hold them.” The worm’s leafs shook in excitement, “Gonna teach them all the cool diggin’ holes-” 

“You are not going to teach our child to be a menace like you.” Narinder cut in, ears folded back. Oh how he loved his sibling but if the kid turned out anything like him he was sure he’d be doomed as a parent. 

“You know damn well it would be boring without someone like me around here!” Leshy laughed, “Come on what kind of uncle would I be if I don’t teach them a little something!” 

Soon the two began their usual sibling bickering, not an actual fight but shouting and maybe a shove or two once the Lamb stepped away. Eventually Leshy left the two to go back to his own spouse, letting the two spend their time in peace. 

Several hours later they were back in the medbay, the contractions began to get closer and the Lamb was set up on the bed with Narinder behind them rubbing their lower back. For now they were left in a private room with frequent check-ins by either Kallamar or one of the nurses. 

“You’re doing great.” Narinder quietly said into Lamb’s ear, “You’re doing so good. Going to be the best parent.” 

“Narinder.” 

“You’ve been through worse. I hope they're a lamb. I mean I don’t care either way but I want to see a baby lamb-” 

“Narinder.”

“Just breathe and you’ll be fin-” 

“NARINDER!” Suddenly the crown’s power flares in a show of red magic, the Lamb’s horns growing just a bit more sharp as they look back at him with red eyes. “Sweetheart-”, oh fuck they were using their god voice, “You know I love you but if you keep talking I am going to kick you out and you will wait in the waiting room!”

Narinder stared at them for a moment before nodding, thoroughly quieted by the outburst of their spouse. The crown’s power dissipated and soon the lamb was groaning as they felt another contraction. Well if him talking wasn’t helping then he would do the next best thing. 

Leaning forward Narinder carefully placed his chin on the Lamb’s shoulder and began to purr, the Lamb sighing as they relaxed to the sound. 

Soon however it was obvious the time had come. The obstetrician, an alpaca named Rose, quickly prepared everyone. Originally Kallamar had been the one who wanted to help with the delivery but as soon as Narinder saw him put some gloves on-

“What are you doing?”

“Well I’m delivering the new family member! I couldn’t let just anyon-” 

“You touch them and I will cut off all of your tentacles.” 

Kallamar wanted to argue but seeing that expression on Narinder's face and the threat…well he had given into his cowardice and conceded. However he stuck close by making sure to at least be there in case something went wrong and he actually had to intervene despite Narinder’s threats. 

Leshy and their spouse, Shamura and Heket soon showed up after waiting outside as the contractions became less and less apart. 

Narinder had watched the lamb through all their hardships when they were his vessel, all the deaths, all the choices and how they handled the cult. He knew they could do this even if they were crying and squeezing his hand to the point of possible fracture. He could feel tears in his eyes but blinked them back.

“Push, my Lamb! I can see the head!” Rose encouraged, “Almost there!” 

Lamb cried out as they gave another push though weakened about halfway through it, huffing and puffing. “Fuuck-it hurts-” 

“I know, but you gotta push, you're almost done!” 

With another push Lamb cried out, this time trying with all their might. And then a wet sound and a cheerful cry, “You did it!” Quickly Rose carefully took the baby and gently began to clean it up, focusing on the face and nose until a shrill cry filled the room. She had barely wrapped the baby up before Narinder snatched the baby away from her. Gently of course. Kallamar kept his distance but was obviously excited to see the child by the way his tentacles anxiously fidgeted. 

Lamb couldn’t help but cry even more when they heard their baby, seeing them only made them sob out. Narinder just about cried out himself seeing that he had somehow managed to create life for once. Instead of taking the life of something he created life. “They’re beautiful…oh so beautiful.” Narinder leaned in to kiss their head, though that didn’t seem to deter the little one from making as much noise as they wanted. 

Not that either parent minded. 

“Agh!” Suddenly Lamb was curling up, their face scrunched up in pain as another contraction broke their attention away from their newborn. 

“Lamb?!” Narinder worriedly looked at them before looking at Rose and Kallamar, Rose quickly taking charge with a nervous Kallamar flanking her. 

After a moment her head popped up, “Oh shit-you’re gonna have to push for me again, my Lamb!” She instructed. 

“Again!?” Lamb, Narinder and Kallamar all asked out in surprise. 

“Someone’s getting a sibling!’ She happily told them, “Now push.” Lamb looked at Narinder in surprise before another contraction hit and they pushed, once more crying out. Soon another small body slipped out with a wet plop and just like before Rose was quick to act. 

The room soon was filled with two crying newborns. The second child was handed off to the lamb and Narinder just couldn’t help it anymore. A sob broke out of his throat as the tears he had been holding back finally began to stream down his face. 

“Oh Narinder…” Lamb mumbled as they saw their husband cry like a child because of his own children.

Discreetly Rose and Kallamar slipped out after a quick look to make sure there wasn’t a third, though she had to tug the squid along. 

Narinder hiccuped as he scrubbed at his eyes, but the tears kept coming, “T-twins…we ha-have twins!” It was awfully familiar to him as he once had to raise Aym and Baal on his own, though this time he hopes he does a better job. 

“N-no wonder I got so big…” A chuckle as they thumbed the little ones forehead, the newborn’s cries soon turning to hiccups. And once one began to calm down so did the other. 

“They're beautiful. I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful…not even as a god.” Narinder whispered as he carefully slipped into the cot next to Lamb. Using his right arm to wrap around their shoulders as they moved closer. “What should we name them?” 

Lamb took a good look at the two newborns, they both seemed to be a mix of themselves and Narinder. Though one seemed more cat-like and the other more sheep. One even had Narinder’s three eyes. “...you know I like the name Lilith.” 

“Lilith?” Narinder seemed to think about it in his head for a moment, “It is a lovely name. And maybe.. Dantalion for the other one?” He asked just before leaning in and kissing the newborn’s head. 

“I think that would be perfect. Perfect names for the perfect kits. Our kits.” An exhausted smile rested on the Lamb’s lips. 

“Our k-kits.” Another sob from Narinder made Lamb chuckle and lean over to give him a sweet kiss. 

“Our kits.” 

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

Fire On Fire: Chapter 9

(Ch. 8), (Ch. 7), (Ch. 6), (Ch. 5), (Ch. 4), (Ch. 3) (Ch. 2) (Ch. 1)

Gallery II Taglist Application II Symbol Guide

Summary: A spy's job is to complete their mission, even if it means hunting down a former friend. WARNINGS: Injury, Death, War things Dedication: To my dearest Poe & Dove whose writing never ceases to inspire me & to Lara without whom this whole work wouldn't exist 💖💖💖 Taglist: @latibvles @wwhatev3r @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs

Contemporary: June 12th, 1944. Saint-Hilaire-Petitville, France.

The sniper had them pinned but luckily, there was still one miniscule blessing.

"There's no way he can see through the curtains!" Alix yelled over the continued smatterings of gunfire. "He’s firing blind!" 

“Hold on, Cami,” she urged her comrade, trying her best to apply more pressure to the wound but the blood just kept bubbling over her hands, no matter how much she pressed. “Just hold on.” 

Camille's breath was coming in short, ragged gasps as she fought for air and Alix’s mind raced as she struggled for things to say to keep Camille awake and focused. 

“We’re gonna get you through this, Camille, I promise,” she vowed but the frothing noise emanating from the wound was rapidly filling her with dread.  

That couldn’t be a good sign. 

 “Think about Toulouse,” she implored her friend, whose green eyes were starting to become unfocused. “You remember Toulouse, right?” 

The thinnest smile crossed Camille’s blood-streaked face so Alix took that topic and ran with it. 

“Of course you do,” Alix affirmed warmly, trying her best to seem enthusiastic, positive, and not at all scared to death.

“He's your boyfriend, right? He said you’d known each other a long time. You’re the one who gave him Voltaire, aren't you? God, he loved that cat. I don't think I ever got a letter without a photograph of him attached to it!" 

Alix babbled on about Toulouse, about Voltaire the cat, everything she could possibly remember from their letters, exhorting Camille to keep her eyes open while Henri, who had managed to bring the handheld radio down to the floor with him, was hurriedly tapping out urgent messages to their contacts in the area, informing them of their dire situation and requesting aid.

“There’s an attack going on in Carentan right now!” he shouted as another explosion went off. It sounded much closer than before. “We’re on our own!” 

Shit. 

The sniper had deliberately targeted them when they were stranded, cut off from any outside help by two opposing armies. 

But how could he have known where his target would be standing without a visual…?

And just like that, the wheels of Alix’s brain began to turn.

The only way the sniper could’ve known where everyone was would be if someone had radio’d him everyone’s positions, meaning the Gestapo’s mole had to have been someone in the room at the time. 

It couldn’t be Edgar then, Alix thought, as he was helping another faction of the Maquis bomb a bridge on the outskirts of Carentan. He had no part in intelligence gathering anyway; he was purely a saboteur. 

It couldn’t be Thérèse either as she had been tailing Oberleutnant Hahn throughout the day. All her intel pertained solely to him. 

Camille would never have put a hit out on Toulouse, no matter what. She certainly had no faith in Alix but even still, the agent had no doubt that Camille would never have tried to put a hit out on her either. 

So that left Henri and…

She and Henri looked up at the same time, the same look of recognition dawning on both their faces. 

Jean-Pierre.

It all made sense now. He had been feeding them deliberate misinformation to throw them off the scent of the actual Nazi plans. More than likely, he'd been the one pocketing the leftover money too. 

He'd only been working with the Carentan Resistance a couple months and in that time, he'd already sold out the group's former leader and three other long-standing members without ever being suspected. He was friendly, he was funny, he was convincing, and he was practically still a teenager…No wonder the Gestapo had him on payroll. 

He was the perfect spy. 

All the nervous scratching his nose, the glancing at his watch…he had been waiting for the right time to signal the attack. 

JP's voice rang in her ears: 

"By the way, Jules, could you be a lamb and double-check my coordinates while I'm gone? The notes are over there. Wouldn't want any supplies getting misplaced on my account." 

It had been a set-up. He had deliberately tried to anchor her to the path of the sniper's bullet.

Alix had been the target, not Camille. 

It took every ounce of strength in Alix’s body not to go running after the bastard right then for hurting Camille in her stead but she couldn’t leave her friend.

Every violent cough produced lengthy rivers of bright red that streamed from her mouth down her neck and Alix quickly went from scared to terrified. 

“Henri, I need you to hurry,” she cried nervously.

Henri, who was already steadily army-crawling toward the pair, began crawling even faster.

“Put more pressure,” he ordered as he dragged himself along the floor. “The bullet's caused a pneumothorax!" 

Alix stared at him blankly but obeyed, immersing her hands even deeper in the blood and gore as Camille's coughs came quicker and more forcefully. 

Henri was always forgetting that other people didn't read med-school textbooks in their free time. 

"It's caused a what?!" 

"A pneumothorax!" he repeated as though she had simply misheard him. 

But when Alix shook her head, he elaborated, "A collapsed lung! It needs to be sealed!" 

Luckily, he had just reached them and immediately took over, his med-school training kicking in like second nature as he carefully inspected the wound.

“You go after JP," he yelled to Alix over the sound of a nearby explosion. "I can handle things here!"  

Alix didn't need to be told twice. 

Keeping her head low and her stomach pressed to the carpet, she began dragging herself toward the door by her elbows, pausing only to retrieve the handheld radio and her aid bag.

All her false IDs were inside.

She wasn't sure how much Jean-Pierre knew so it was impossible to tell if her cover had been completely blown yet, but she'd probably have to burn this identity's passport anyway later, just in case. 

Once she reached the hallway, she scrambled to her feet but a near-deafening wail shook the walls around her and before she could blink, she was on her knees again as the sounds of artillery explosions and shattering glass nearby roared like an oncoming train. 

That one was way too close, she thought. Looks like I'll be crawling out the back way too.  

The only blessing was that the sniper had no way of knowing he hadn't hit his target. The gunfire had stopped fairly quickly after Camille was shot, Alix remembered. 

More than likely, he'd already packed up and gone, thinking his job was done. 

Well think again, asshole, Alix thought as she clambered to her feet and sprinted out the back door.

∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━∆∆━━━∆∆

The once quiet, picturesque village of Saint-Hilaire-Petitville was unrecognizable now. 

Skeletons of buildings stood tall against a smoke-darkened sky like ancient ruins and plumes of fire from artillery cast the wreckage in a hellish orange glow. 

The screams of the injured and dying clogged the air in every language, the details of their final words drowned out by the thunder of explosions and gunfire. 

If there is a Hell, Alix decided as she hurried toward Carentan, it definitely looks like this. 

She knew better than to run openly in the street where she could be seen– spies were not soldiers, after all– so she clung to the long shadows of still-standing buildings, ducking in and out of doorways as she dodged debris and quickly made her way out of the falling village. 

Soon, she had made it far enough out onto the open road that the only sound nearby was the crunch of gravel under her boots and her own heavy breathing. Part of her wished she could radio back to check on Camille, but ultimately, Alix knew better. Radio transmissions were dangerous enough under normal circumstances; trying to send a message from out in the open would be suicide. 

All she could do was hope for the best and keep moving.

∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━∆∆━━━∆∆

Reaching Carentan had been the easy part; tracking down Jean-Pierre was going to be a whole lot harder. 

Alix wracked her brain as she slipped behind a half-timbered farmhouse at the edge of the city. 

It provided minimal protection but it was still better than remaining totally exposed to the bullets raining down like hail from above the thoroughfare.

Peeking out from behind the relative safety of the painted wall, she could see the streets were littered with corpses.

Blood trickled down the cobblestones in tiny streams and the final agonies of the dying piercing the air like sirens but the young spy closed her eyes, fighting the chaos of her surroundings so she could focus. 

She had a mission to complete and that meant finding Jean-Pierre, her friend— No. 

That train of thought needed to stop right there. Jean-Pierre was a lot of things: an enemy agent, a target, a chicken-shit coward, and a traitor. But he was not the friend she thought she’d known. That person didn’t exist.

The Jean-Pierre she thought she knew had died the moment he handed Toulouse over to the Gestapo a week before her arrival. Everything else was just performance.

By betraying Alix’s friends, JP had made himself a target and now he would be hunted and killed like one too. 

The OSS operative parsed through her own training from years earlier.

“When evading a pursuer in an urban environment, remember the acronym: PIC,”  she recalled Lieutenant Nixon stressing during one of their evasion drills. 

"Number 1: Protection from the environment. 

Number 2: Invisible to the enemy. 

Number 3: Comfort for quality rest." 

So the farmhouse was out. It could offer protection and comfort but not invisibility; it was the only building in the area whose roof and doors were painted a rather violent shade of plum, which stuck out like a sore thumb against the more muted landscape surrounding it. 

What would qualify as invisible in a small, rural town like Carentan, Alix mused. Somewhere strong enough to provide protection, spacious enough to provide comfort, and somewhere most people would overlook… 

Her dark eyes scanned the town’s landscape for a moment, passing over shops and houses. 

A spy would know better than to hole-up somewhere so densely populated. It was too easy to corner someone between buildings that tightly packed. 

Then, her eyes landed on Notre-Dame de Carentan, the parish cathedral, and a lightbulb went off in her head. 

Large and sturdy enough to provide protection, just out of the way enough to avoid being interrupted by enemy combatants raiding for food like they would in a shop, spacious enough to provide multiple nooks within as well as multiple exits. 

And what self-respecting Catholic would desecrate the house of God? It was the perfect hiding spot.

She needed to get over there fast. 

Luckily, an opportune explosion a few houses down drew some scattered German soldiers from the nearby area. 

A welcome distraction. 

Keeping a death-grip on her aid bag and her head tucked low, Alix hustled to the other side of the street as quickly as she could, taking momentary refuge behind some nearby shrubbery before shoving the heavy cathedral door open with a grunt and slipping inside.

∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━∆∆━━━∆∆

Despite the chaos raging just outside its doors, the inside of the cathedral was hauntingly still. 

The booming explosions and percussive rat-a-tat-tat of scattered firefights in the nearby area were virtually swallowed up by the sheer size and strength of the stone columns within.

If Alix closed her eyes, the dulled echoes from outside could almost be mistaken for thunder and rainfall. Almost. 

Below the majestic vaulted ceiling, faint glimmers of sunlight streamed through the stained glass-adorned walls, scattering colorful beams of light onto the pews and aisle of the otherwise dimly-lit cathedral.

The rolling smoke from external fires combined with the glow of candles from the apse added an ethereal element throughout.

It was strange being in a Catholic church again after three years away, simultaneously alien but familiar, like visiting the new owners of your childhood home. As she stood in the church’s lobby, just inside the doors, Alix felt a twinge of shame for not having been in so long.

But as quickly as the guilt surfaced, so too did the suppressed rage. 

If God wanted me to keep going to Mass, she thought bitterly. then He shouldnt’ve let my fucking brother die. 

Her heart pounding in her ears as she entered, Alix slipped a hand into her aid bag and retrieved her handgun. She was not going to be caught off-guard in here. 

Wherever Jean-Pierre was hiding, she would be ready for him. 

Marble statues of the saints adorned the walls, staring pitilessly down at her with their stony gaze as she scoured the cathedral for her target. 

Where are you, you traitorous piece of shit, she wanted to yell, but she knew better.

She’d have to catch him, like a rat, because he wouldn’t come out on his own.

Stalking down the center instead, aisle by aisle, the soft sound of her boots against the cold marble floor was muffled by the drumming of artillery fire in the distance.

Suddenly, a small nook ahead to the left side caught her eye. Tucked just steps away from the main altar, this section of the chapel appeared to be specifically dedicated to the Virgin Mary.

Situated neatly atop the altar sat a painted statuette of the Holy Mother draped in blue, smiling serenely down at the empty rows in front of her, oblivious to the rage simmering within the OSS agent striding towards her sacred space.

And there, in the farthest corner pew, hunched over a tiny notebook, sat Jean-Pierre.

∆∆━━━━∆∆━━━∆∆━━━∆∆

"Well if it isn't our local turncoat," Alix remarked loudly, the venom in her voice echoing impressively in the smaller chamber.

"I'm surprised you didn't just incinerate walking in here. Isn’t treachery a mortal sin?”

Jean-Pierre looked up from his notebook, the fake smile on his face just begging to be clawed off.

"Nice to see you too, Jules," he replied cheerily as if she'd wished him a Good Morning instead of an insult. "It's always good to see a friendly face."

"I'm glad because it's the last face you're going to see," Alix snapped as she approached the pew where he sat.

"You can drop the act, JP, I know what you did." 

JP raised his eyebrows, innocent and unconcerned. 

"Do you now?" 

Alix ignored him. She was not going to partake in his mind games. 

"How long have you been working for the Nazis," she demanded as she sat down forcefully, her back bumping against the wooden pew in her haste. 

Sitting within two feet of the man who had sold out her friends made her sick but she had no choice; she needed to be close enough to observe him during interrogation.

Her nostrils were flaring with her barely-contained fury but JP casually lit up a cigarette as though he hadn’t noticed. 

"You're going to have to be more specific, Jules," he stated after taking a short drag, still acting as if they were old friends catching up over breakfast. "The Milice or the Gestapo?" 

"Either. Both." 

"The Milice for about two years, since I was 17. I was assigned to liaise with the Gestapo more recently. I’ve been an undercover provocateur for about…" 

He took a second to ponder, before responding “About 4 months now, I think.”

Alix took a hard look at the boy sitting next to her. 

Jean-Pierre was only nineteen; he should’ve been studying at university, going to dance halls, asking a girl from one of his classes out on a Saturday night just to make a complete fool of himself, he should’ve been able to be a kid and make memories with his friends. 

Instead, there was a war on, kids younger than him were fighting and dying to defend their countries from the evils of fascism and here JP was, a Nazi turncoat…for what? What could make someone so young so self-serving, so full of apathy?

“You were never rejected by the French army,” she surmised aloud, thinking back to earlier that day. “That was just part of your cover so you could have an excuse to be more heavily involved in the planning, wasn’t it?” 

“Very good, Jules,” JP commented. “You put it together quicker than Toulouse did. What brought you to that conclusion?”

 “Well, you got into that scuffle with Henri earlier without hardly breaking a sweat,” the OSS agent acknowledged before nodding to him. “And look at you smoking now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smoke before. If you were actually asthmatic, you’d be hacking up a lung.”

JP took another short drag before responding with a simple “Bravo” and a sarcastic round of applause, the clatter bouncing mockingly off the marble as though even the cathedral itself was laughing at her.

"How do you sleep at night," Alix wondered aloud from between gritted teeth. "Knowing all the people you've betrayed, good people who trusted you?" 

Jean-Pierre cocked an eyebrow and took another drag. 

"Trusting me was their fault," he replied coolly, the smoke curling into the air. "Not mine. These are dangerous times, you know." 

Alix was seized with the overwhelming urge to throttle him but she bit it back. 

"As for my conscience?" He shrugged. "Completely clear. I just provide intel– for a price, of course. Whatever the Milice and the Gestapo choose to do with that intel is their business, not mine." 

"You signaled the sniper earlier, didn't you? And Camille was what, just collateral to you?" 

Jean-Pierre shrugged again. 

"Business is business." 

"If you wanted me dead that badly, you could've left the others out of it." 

Jean-Pierre pursed his lips.

"Oh but we don't want you dead," he replied flippantly, as though that somehow made it better. "Just wounded enough to be taken in without issue. And I did try to leave them out of it, but you wouldn't let me. Their deaths are on your hands, Jules, not mine. I got the transmission shortly before you arrived.” 

"You're lying," Alix insisted, trying in vain to shove down her mounting panic. 

He was just trying to get into her head…right? 

"Henri and Camille were both alive when I left." 

Jean-Pierre made a Voilá gesture. 

"My point exactly. They were both unfortunate casualties of your negligence. Our sniper had a perfect vantage point and we were all ready for you to make your move on Hahn...you would never have made it within a meter of him. But then, out of the blue, you decide to follow orders for once and stay put!" 

His voice rose slightly and for a split-second, Alix thought she glimpsed lines of frustration creasing his brow as the mask slipped…but then, like a good agent, it was back to baseline: cool, calm, and collected. 

"So we had to improvise. I got out of the line of fire, tried to keep you in place, everything was good to go…and then Camille got in the way."  

He clucked his tongue. 

"I was sure it was you but when our sniper went back to verify the kill, who should he find but Camille already dead on the carpet, you nowhere to be found, and Henri operating an illegal radio? And…well, we couldn't have that. You understand." 

Alix felt a pit forming in her stomach like she'd swallowed a boulder. 

If she had just disobeyed Henri's order like JP had urged her to in the first place, Camille and Henri would still be alive…She herself might've died but that was inconsequential. It was her they wanted; no one else had to get hurt.

Jean-Pierre was so nonchalant, it was maddening. He acted like he had all the time in the world, like he wasn't sitting next to a former friend with a gun in her hand, still drenched in the blood of their other friend…former friend, now deceased.

At least he hadn't mentioned Edgar and Thérèse, Alix thought. 

The twins must have gotten Henri's last radio transmission and gone on the run. 

She put her free hand to her rosary, sending a silent prayer up that the two kids would make it to a neutral zone safely. She wasn’t sure if any god, angels, or saints were listening but she was in a church and she figured it couldn’t hurt to try. 

Taking a steadying breath and resisting the urge to just shoot the bastard, Alix decided to try something. 

“I’m going to ask you this one time and one time only,” she stated firmly, trying to remain calm and forget about the handgun she was clutching in her right hand. 

“Who gave you the order to bring me in? And why not Henri or Camille? Why me?" 

"I don't ask those sorts of questions," JP said simply. "And neither should you."

Alix set her jaw.

Don't tell me how to run my interrogation, she wanted to snap but she knew better. She would have to let it slide for now, if she wanted any answers at all.

"Alright, next question: What did you do to Henri?" she asked tersely, forcing her face to remain impartial.

She would not show this bastard fear. 

"I didn't do anything to anyone," JP replied snippily. "But don't worry, my partner was quick. Henri wasn't going to be of any use. He and Camille were worth more dead than alive anyway." 

"Not like Toulouse," Alix guessed. Jean-Pierre stared her down, his startlingly gray eyes piercing her like a spear.

"Toulouse was more trouble than he was worth," he practically spat. "Three days of continuous torture and still no information. What a waste of time.

Someone finally had to shut him up for good on the fourth day because he wouldn't stop singing 'Le Chant des Partisans' at the top of his lungs and it was riling up the other prisoners."  

Alix couldn't help but smile. 

"Le Chant des Partisans", the song of the Resistance. 

Leave it to Toulouse, the eternal optimist, to be rallying others until the end. 

“I’m glad he gave you trouble,” Alix uttered acerbically, fire blazing in her dark brown eyes. “I hope he cursed you all the way to his grave.”

She couldn’t imagine the look on Toulouse’s face when he discovered that it was a friend who had betrayed him, who intended to destroy everything he’d built…The thought hurt too much.

Jean-Pierre turned his cigarette pack over and over in his hands, studying it meticulously before looking up, his flint-sharp eyes boring holes into her.

“Is that what you’re going to do, Jules?” he asked. “Curse me all the way to your grave when you go?” 

He didn’t look afraid, just amused, like he was watching a particularly clever rat slowly navigate its way through a maze. 

Alix glared at him.

His deliberate nonchalance was tap-dancing on her last nerve and she’d just about had enough.

“It’s Juliette,” she said coldly. "Jules was for friends.”

JP cocked his head curiously.

“We’re not friends anymore, Jules? Pity, I actually liked you.”

Alix once again found herself resisting the temptation to throttle the kid into unconsciousness.

"You’re a duplicitous piece of shit and I should've seen it sooner.”  

“Agreed," JP acknowledged evenly. “But it's in your nature to care about people, to your own detriment. Your loyalty makes you naive."

He gave her a look filled with sickening pity, as though she were a bird with a broken wing, and she was struck by how much older he looked. The intelligence game had aged him. He looked too tired, too bitter, too malicious for a boy of nineteen. 

"This is what happens when you care about people, Jules," he stated with a general gesture around them. "In our business, caring for people is their death sentence. Toulouse, Henri, Camille…You did this to yourself."

Alix's heart jumped into her throat. It felt like she was being strangled, like someone had sucked all the air out of the room, and her eyes were beginning to burn. 

JP’s words echoed not only around the church but in her head as well: 

This is what happens when you care about people…You did this…You did this…

Alix cocked the gun at her side with a click. 

"Interrogation’s over, JP,” she said quietly, getting to her feet. “Stand up, unless you want to die on your ass.”

“So soon?” Her former friend remained seated, raising an eyebrow as he searched her face for any sign of weakness. “Did I hit a nerve, Jules?”

“Of course not,” Alix lied, thanking God that her training had been good enough to mask most of her emotions even in a foreign language. “Like you said, business is business. Now get the fuck up.”

Jean-Pierre didn’t move. 

“You really think killing me is going to wash all that blood off your hands?” he inquired, watching her expectantly from his seat with those ice-cold eyes, like a bird of prey staring down its dinner, searching for a weakness to exploit.

“You think it’s going to make you a ‘better person’?” 

He barked out a hollow laugh. 

“Because I hate to break it to you, Jules, but we’re in a war zone: There are no good people.”

"There are still good people, JP,” the OSS agent replied, her broken voice barely above a whisper. “My mistake was thinking you were one of them." 

[aerosiderwrites]

Yandere Childe obsessed with a fellow Harbinger

Hell yes you can! This rq actually made me procrastinate the Albedo piece I’ve been working on I have Thoughts a Feelings about this

warnings for genre typical unhealthy portrayals of relationships, extreme manipulation, and kidnapping

Word Count: <1k

What makes Childe a scary yandere is a delicate mix of being powerful and pretty openly amoral. He’s smart, he’s got money, he’s strong, he’s unhinged. He’s gonna dangle something above your head and snatch you when you dare to reach.

But if you’re a harbinger? You’re an equal in almost every way. Since Childe canonically is also the youngest, you even have seniority over him in that aspect.

But that’s all a part of the fun for him. Childe is a chaser at heart, and he’s going to make you beg for a swift end to his unrelenting pursuit.

If you like him at all, whether as a friend, a comrade in arms, even just a friendly acquaintance, then this will put you at a significant advantage. You both are in the same dangerous business, so you will be aware how much destruction he is responsible for. He won’t push his luck and deliberately get you to dislike him. He’s glad that you like him, and will use that against you.

If you don’t like him, then he’ll be all the more obnoxious. Don’t misunderstand, he does want you to like him, but that can come later once he’s broken you down enough. Since you don’t like him anyway, he’s comfortable saying the worst things to get a reaction from you.

Either way? He wants to fight you so bad and so often. You are a harbinger for a reason, and he loves to see you show him why. You can spar, but that’s often not enough. He wants to see how you behave when your life is truly at its edge.

If/when you guys ever fight side by side it’s insane. He plays off of you so well. He’s observed you long enough to know how you fight and wants you to think it’s because the two of you are soulmates or something, and not because he’s watched you practice pretty much any opportunity since he’s become a harbinger. He lives for the battle couple dream, and wants you to acknowledge his strength.

Once Childe is done playing around and wants reciprocation, he’ll get bold (well. Bolder)

He’s going to use your equal status against you. You’re on a mission in Fontaine? Well he’s off he can come and offer his help! What are you going to do, whine to the Tsaritsa? He’s helping you as a fellow harbinger! It’s not like you can fight him in earnest either, that’s forbidden.

In his mind, his ideal is that the two of you go on to become the ultimate power couple and take over the world side by side, hand in hand. He’s okay with distance, so you could continue your servitude to the Tsaritsa.

If you consented to a relationship with him with no push back, you’d find he’s really comfortable letting you think you have your own space, but will test your boundaries from time to time. He’ll have agents and diplomats under you report to him about you when the two of you are apart.

However, any resistance will tell him that you need to learn that he is stronger than you. Even if he isn’t, initially. He will train until he is. If you won’t be with him when he gives you the choice, then he’ll remove the choice all together.

Intimidating you will not be easy, but the effort he puts into sabotaging your missions is worth it. Things will go so specifically wrong that you’ll question your role. If you’ve been friends or friendly up until this point, Childe will swoop in and help, saving your reputation that he put in jeopardy.

More entertaining (to him, anyway) is when you hold animosity towards him, and he watches as you become the black sheep of the harbingers because of your failures. If you were to disappear now, everyone would assume you couldn’t handle the scrutiny.

And when you do, no one is the wiser. He’ll keep you underground, in a prison-like bunker, making you believe you’ve been imprisoned for your failures, and that Childe had been put in charge of your custody.

He makes you stay fit, but you vision and delusion are stripped from you.

He’d make your mind into putty, and then knead it into someone loyal to him and love only him. Once you’ve been broken down and rebuilt, you’re free to go, but where would you go that isn’t at Childe’s side?

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒂𝒊𝒏 (𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.4K

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨. 𝐇𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 (𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞), 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢- 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧- 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐍' 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬/ 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲- 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @brie02 @deja-vux @rvse-miingi @multidreams-and-desires @galaxteez

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Waving enthusiastically at the crowd cheering loudly at the end of their performance, Mingi's eyes were scanning each and every one of the sections in the auditorium. To anyone it would seem as though he was making sure to shine his beautiful and radiant smile to all the adoring fans that came to watch and support him and his members, and yes that was partly why. But it wasn't just that. He had hope as he scanned every face in there. Hope of once again seeing her again. He could hear his own heartbeat pump against his ears, the sound drowning out all the chanting coming from the thousands of fans gathered in there.

Sensing what was going on, one of his members couldn't help but let out a sigh. Leaning in close enough so he could hear him, he whispered in his ear.

"She's not here Mingi."

He expected such words from his best friend, who although with good intentions, seemed to try to ground him back down to earth and inadvertently crush his hopes. But he never took it personally. He knew Yunho was only trying to look out for him and spare him more heartache. Nudging him slightly, the equally tall male swung an arm around Mingi's broad shoulders, plastering on a smile out to the crowd once more as he led them backstage as slowly the members started to walk off the stage as scheduled. Accepting that the night was over, Mingi pulled his face away from the crowd and began walking away. He would have ultimately called it another uneventful concert that ended the same way and just go back to change into his normal clothes and then join the rest of the group back at the hotel to lounge and rest.

But he felt a something strange, pulling and beckoning him to look back at the scatter of people behind him once more. Slowly, he tried his head, unsure of where to look exactly, eyes wandering around aimlessly. Until they spotted what he believed to be a familiar red scarf wrapped around a person's neck, effectively covering up the bottom half of their face while their head had a matching beret that covered their forehead entirely. Although he couldn't see much other than their body frame, he felt his heart swell up, legs unable to move as he stared at the figure. Yunho stopped when he felt Mingi no longer walking behind him. Walking back to him, he put on a smile so as to not act suspicious and began pulling him away.

"Mingi..we have to go."

But Mingi stayed grounded, still scanning the figure he had locked his eyes on. The person began walking away, almost as if they didn't even acknowledge him.

"Wait hold on-"

Just as he was about to run off the stage and follow them, Yunho harshly tugged on his arm and fiercely guided him backstage, waving out towards the people still watching them so as to not arouse suspicion or have them think something was wrong.

"Mingi, it's not her. You always swear it is but it's not."

Yunho didn't mean to sound so aggressive towards his long life friend, but he cared about him too much and didn't want him getting false illusions that would only end up in him getting more hurt than what he already was.

"I know but it's different! Yunho she was wearing the scarf I gave her. I know it was it!" He insisted, anxiously looking towards the door, debating whether or not he could make a dash and catch up to the individual.

Shaking his head, Yunho placed his hands on top of his friend's shoulders.

"Mingi.....there's a million red scarfs out there. And you were too far away. Honestly I think....."

He hesitated before speaking his next words, knowing how sensitive Mingi got with the topic.

"Forget about her."

As if on instinct, Mingi shook his head.

"No! I can't. I promised I'd wait for her and I'm not breaking my word. I'll stay faithful to it until she comes back."

"But what if she doesn't?! It's been over two years Mingi! Face the facts. She's not coming back. Y/N never loved-"

"Don't say that! She did- she does love me! I know she does!"

Yunho took a step back. Seeing Mingi become so agitated and frustrated like that truly terrified him. It was always dangerous to have him get mad or overly worked up. Sensing that he probably startled his friend a little too much, Mingi ran a hand over his dyed blonde hair, a despondent sigh coming out his mouth.

"Hey Yunho I'm sorry..... I think.... I need some air."

After changing into his normal clothes, Mingi didn't get in the van like most of the other guys who just wanted to go relax back at the hotel, nor did he follow Wooyoung or Hongjoong to go check out some of the nearby stores. He simply walked in the opposite direction, mindlessly strolling the streets of the unfamiliar city he was currently in. The slight rumbling of the skies and the subtle scent of dew signaled that it was more than likely going to start pouring rain soon. Even though he was wearing one of his long trenchcoat, the slight breeze that blew across sent tiny chills down his spine, nearly making his teeth chatter.

As if it were a beacon, Mingi stumbled across a small and cozy looking coffee shop. Making sure it was still open, he cheerfully greeted the sweet looking old woman behind the counter, who seemed to brighten up at seeing such a handsome young lad at such an hour. Very calmly and politely, he ordered just a simple caramel cappuccino, which the owner was delighted to whip up for him. Just as he took out his wallet to pay, he had a weird inkling feeling for some reason.

"Uh..... do you perhaps sell hot cocoa?" He inquired nervously.

After getting confirmation that they indeed made hot chocolate, Mingi asked if there was any possible way they could add peppermint to it. He could already feel the judgmental stare about to be given to him as most baristas did with such an unpopular request. Although she seemed surprised by the special addition of peppermint, she didn't hesitate to assure him she'd definitely make it as he liked. Mingi felt so grateful to the kind lady, making sure to leave her a generous tip before taking both of his drinks and going back outside.

Spotting a nearby gazebo, Mingi went over and sat down on one of the benches that were placed underneath the roof of it. Setting the hot mint chocolate down next to him, he sipped his cappuccino slowly, being careful not to burn his tongue on the scorching hot liquid. It had the perfect amount of foam in it, with not too much caramel added in it so the strong espresso could still be made out. Wiping off some of the froth that accidentally got on the tip of his nose, he peered down at the untouched drink next to him. Chuckling dryly to himself, he picked up the cup and scanned it with deep curiosity.

"You always were so different and unique." He mused to himself.

Putting it back down, he began to think it was absolutely silly to have bought it just because of some momentary whim he felt back in the coffee shop.

Or was it nostalgia?

Mingi began to believe it was the latter, especially considering what month it was. After all, it was during this exact same time 2 years ago, on a cold and gloomy November where everything started...

Or perhaps ended?

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Exhausted panting came from all 8 of the sweaty bodies of the males in the room, about half of them were already reaching for their water bottles to gulp down the contents before proceeding to try catching their breath once more. The strict yet kind eyes watching them announced they would be taking a break before saying they'd be rehearsing for another hour or two. Simultaneous groans and protests were elicited by the members, who were already tired from thinking about burning a few more calories with their intense dance sessions.

"Looks like I'm missing the new episode of aot." San dramatically layed on the floor, arms sprawled out.

"I'm calling first dibs on the shower when we get back." Seonghwa declared, not afraid of using his status as the oldest member if it meant getting himself cleaned.

"Aww Hyung! You take showers that are way too long! You'll finish all the hot water like last time." Woow already began nagging, which in turn started another argument between his both of them, with San and Yunho joining in to offer backup if necessary.

Ignoring their pointless bantering, Mingi took the time to call up his girlfriend to let her know. It took quite some time for her to pick up his call, it had actually become a rather recent and constant habit of hers, contrary to before when she'd immediately answer on the second ring.

"What?" Her voice sounded somewhat annoyed and tired, which Mingi guessed had something to do with her work.

"Hey baby, looks like I'm going to be staying late at the company for practice. I'm sorry, I really wanted to spend time with you, but I'm not sure it's possible." He could feel his heart pounding as he began imagining her disappointed and disheartened look.

As expected, he heard her sigh through the other end, a brief pause where he only heard her breathing before she finally spoke up.

"That's fine. I'm going to be pulling extra hours today anyways so....don't be sorry. Maybe it works out in the end."

Mingi noticed how dry and monotone she sounded, as if it didn't really bother her that this would yet be another week where they hardly spoke and spent time together for more than 10 minutes.

"Oh ok....take care then, and remember to eat a snack in between hours ok? I don't want you starving yourself ok baby?"

The girl on the other end of the line didn't need to see him to know he was more than likely pouting at her as usual, always fussing to her about her health.

"Ok. Take care Mingi."

"Y/N!.............."

He bit his lip before saying the next words.

"I- I love you." Although he forced a smile on his face, his voice trembled with fear at saying that.

"I....I know. I gotta go."

Once more, she hung up without repeating those same words back to him. Mingi didn't understand why his girlfriend of forever seemed to be acting strange. Lately she hardly had anything to say, she looked less and less animated each time they video chatted, the dark circles under her eyes were becoming more prominent and judging by the way her cheeks looked a little sunken and clothes looked baggy on her, he fussed she was not eating properly.

But the thing that scared Mingi the most was seeing her soulless eyes. Those eyes that once held the entire stars in them, were now empty and completely void of any emotion. She never initiated any form of physical contact with him, it was always him pulling her into an embrace or placing a kiss on her head, nose or lips, and even when she reciprocated them, they were always cold and almost robotic.

It was starting to terrify him.

"Mingi!"

He nearly dropped his phone when the tiny leader called out to him.

"Break time is over. We gotta start again."

Putting his phone back in his bag he promised himself that even if he left at early dawn, he would go over and see his lover. He just had to.

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Letting out a long and exasperated sigh, Y/N kicked off her heels and left them on the front of the door, her toes aching after all the grueling and arduous hours of both sitting and running up and down floors. Her once neat bun now had various hairs poking out from several places and was now drooping lower than in the morning. She slumped her tired body over to her bedroom, ready to just indulge in a warm shower and then head to bed. But the last thing she expected to see when she turned on the light, was none other than her boyfriend.

"Hey." He waved his hand at her, a soft smile on his lips.

She was momentarily confused with his presence.

"I thought you had practice." She raised an eyebrow, her tone sounding more accusatory than with delight.

"I did...but then I came over here." He explained.

"Why?"

Mingi blinked at her question, stunned that she would even ask why. Getting up from the bed, he slowly walked over to her cautiously. Once he was right in front of her, he reached a hand out to caress her cheek.

"Why? I naturally wanted to see you.....hear you...touch you."

Arms wrapping around her waist, he lowered his face until he pressed a soft kiss to her mildly chapped lips. Although he felt her give in after a while, he could feel that her heart was not in it. Every brush of her lips felt extremely languid and emotionless, even after he had turned a little more desperate and began to trail messy kisses across her jaw, her hands did not move away from her sides, her head only tilting to allow him more access to her skin. Before he could move to pull off her shirt, she stopped him by gripping his wrists.

"If you don't mind I'd like to clean myself off first."

Not even giving him a chance to say anything, she pushed past him and made a beeline to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind her, she leaned her back on it, staring into the floor for a few minutes in a somewhat catatonic state. Taking a deep breath, she slowly removed each one of the articles of clothing on her body, all of them feeling like a heavy weight on her. Ripping the scrunchie off her hair, she tossed it onto the floor so it could join the pile that had already been made in a corner. Sliding the glass door open, she got inside the shower and quickly turned on the water, first the splashes coming out at an almost freezing temperature, which although her body shivered at, she did not shrink away from. Then the water finally adjusted to a more warm temperature, not too hot but warm enough to soothe her sore muscles.

Closing her eyes, she decided to simply bask in the warmth of the water coating her body, shutting off her mind from all the spiraling thoughts that had been clouding her mind for the past weeks, refusing to go away and seemingly taunting her at every hour when she least expected it. She hurt, she was in pain yet there were no physical evidence of it. She could barely eat more than 2 bites of any meal she intook because it suddenly felt too full. At nights, her eyes drooped heavy with sleep, yet her restless mind wouldn't allow her even one full hour of sweet slumber though that's all she wanted.....

She just wanted to fall asleep and hopefully never wake up so as to not feel the pain and emptiness she felt.

So lost was she in the moment that she failed to hear or notice the one individual coming in to join her until she felt familiar hands come to wrap themselves around her waist.

"It's all right love. It's just me." Mingi softly whispered when she gasped lightly at the sudden touch.

Letting her relax under his touch before doing anything else, Mingi's fingers slowly began drawing circles around her hips as he kept his face buried in her neck. Inhaling deeply, he could make out her unique scent that his senses had committed to memory, but could also faintly discern a somewhat different odor that he had never before detected on her before. It was slightly off-putting to him, but he opted for brushing it off. After all, she worked with several people at her job.

Slowly, he began peppering kisses along her shoulder, which seemed to trigger deep and blissful sighs to exude from her nose. His hands moved up to cup around her breasts, kneading at her soft skin while the thumbs grazed over her sensitive nubs in a careful motion. Soft moans poured out from her mouth. Tilting her head back, she reached a hand up to bring her lover's face to hers so she could kiss him. Her moans were now being eaten up by his mouth and tongue as his fingers stroked between her legs, probing at her folds and rubbing at her clit. Pulling apart to catch her breath, Y/N looked up at Mingi with longing and desperation.

"Please....more." She begged at him.

Prying her folds open, he carefully inserted two of his slender and long fingers inside her, her walls practically sucking him in. She felt so tight around him, her walls hugging and clenching all around his fingers. Y/N threw her head back against his shoulder as she began grinding against his hand, savoring as she was finally feeling something, anything in a long time. Her hand had moved to pet at his head, her fingers brushing away his now damp hair in gentle caresses. Wanting to see, feel him more, she removed his hand away from her mound and firmly pressed him towards one of the walls, where she then began to kiss him hungrily and in subtle anguish.

Mingi just allowed her to take control for that moment, his heart lightening up at finally getting some reaction from her. He let her take a hold of his erect cock and pump him slowly as her mouth sucked on several patches of skin on his neck to leave tiny blotches across it. He missed this, he missed being intimate with her and missed having her touch him, not to fulfill any sexual yearning, but to be close to her. He always saw these tender and passionate moments as a display of their love and bond.

Soon the water had been turned off and both of their dripping bodies were fumbling out and landing on top of the bed. Mingi hissed softly as he watched his beautiful girlfriend sink down and his length.

"Fuck. It's been too long."

Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her, wanting to be as close as possible as he began to roll his hips up. Wanting to take his time, Mingi took one of her supple breasts and stuffed it in his mouth, giving it various light suckles and then adding a few kisses onto it. Y/N began panting and moaning uncontrollably, so many emotions rushing through her all at once. It seemed as if all that time of not feeling anything had left her somewhat numb to emotions that now she was beginning to feel overwhelmed by all the ones that were hitting her now:

Love, lust, passion, anger, fury, agony, guilt, one by one they all crashed into her head and heart. It was becoming too much for her and it began to scare her somewhat. But she didn't want them to stop, she wanted to cling onto those emotions just a little longer, no matter what or how. She hadn't even realized her hands had placed themselves on Mingi's broad shoulders, holding her steady as she began to bounce herself on top of him, slow tears trickling down her cheeks as muffled cries of desperation were being choked back and bitten back by her lips. Her fear of not feeling anymore soon turned to rage, and it was manifesting itself as she fucked herself on her boyfriend, who by now had noticed the change in her mood.

Mingi tried to grip her hips down, but she didn't seem to care and tried to push his hands away. His calling out to her fell upon deaf ears as she swatted his hands, tat were trying to steady her, away. Finally, he firmly held her wrists and kept her from moving as he forced her to look at him.

"Y/N!" He sharply exclaimed, breaking her out of her trance.

Feeling her body starting to shake, Y/N looked away in shame, her eyes threatening to spill out more tears.

"Baby, look at me, what's wrong?" Mingi gently cupped her chin.

Not meaning to be so mean, but Y/N brushed his hand away and began to climb off him.

"I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry."

Getting up, she ransacked her drawer and pulled out some clothes and dressed herself in an inhumane speed.

"Honey, we can talk about it-" Mingi tried to touch her once more but she pulled away once more.

"I don't want to talk about it! Please! I just want to go to bed."

Marching over to the closet, she grabbed some spare pillows and a blanket.

"I'm sleeping on the couch." She firmly stated, not about to let herself be dissuaded from her resolution.

"Y/N, please don't do this. Stop shutting me out."

With one final attempt, Mingi grabbed her shoulder and turned her arousal to face him, eyes intently searching and scanning every inch of her face for a clue as to what was bothering her.

"Talk to me love, you know you can."

Y/N opened her mouth, about to spill what was on her heart, but ultimately decided against it.

"I can't.....I'm sorry. Just please....let me be for now."

Mingi's hands fell to his sides in defeat as he watched the most important person in his life leave him there, alone. He hated this, hated having her become so distant from him. He could feel it in his heart that sooner or later she was going to snap and hurt his heart, probably more than what he was imagining.

But he was ready for that moment.

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Having gotten absolutely no sleep that night, Y/N ended up getting up just hours before the sun was supposed to rise. Making sure to make as little noise as possible, she made sure to bundle up since it was chilly outside. She looked over at the peaceful and sleeping figure of her boyfriend, who was softly letting out subtle snores as his hands clutched around a pillow, holding onto it as if his life depended on it. He could never fully call asleep unless he was holding something, that something always being her. She could make out a faint wet patch on his pillow where his cheek rested, tell tale sign that he had been crying the night before, just as she had done.

With a kiss to his forehead, she left the house and headed out, her destination still unclear. She just walked wherever her legs led her to, whether conscious or unconsciously. There was hardly a soul around to keep her company on that lonely and cold morning walk in the autumn breeze. Her teeth were chattering inside her mouth whenever a rather blunt force of air swooped past her, making her lick her lips as she felt them drying up even more.

Without realizing it she had come across a small and serene park, a trail specifically used for early joggers right in front of her. Following the trail, she kept her head down as she slowly strolled through the immense trees surrounding her. The golden and garnet hued leaves were scattered about all around the semi dead grass, some of it blowing through the air. She paid no attention to them though, she paid no attention at all to her surroundings. She couldn't feel anything anyways, even the cold air was becoming numb to her at this point.

"Mind if I join you?"

She halted in her steps when a low voice spoke from behind her. She didn't need to see him to know who he was.

"How'd you know I was here?" She questioned him without turning around still.

"Lucky guess."

Moving in front of her, Mingi's tall figure loomed over hers, studying her mood which right now seemed apathetic and melancholic. Standing there all quiet for a brief moment, Mingi was the one who decided to break the ice.

"I love you, you know that right?"

Without even batting an eye, Y/N slowly nodded. Expecting that reaction, Mingi chuckled dryly.

"You know it's been a while since I've heard you respond at all to me saying that...."

Once more, she had no expression on her face, hardly even blinking as she stared right through him, almost as if he wasn't there. But she was listening to him, and he knew it too. Brushing some hair behind her ear, Mingi let out a deep sigh.

"Y/N...... I know you're not ok. I don't know how or what it is you're feeling, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. Maybe you should go see a therapist, a doctor, I don't know. We'll find out what's wrong so you-"

"Mingi I don't know what I feel for you anymore."

He felt as if a knife had been plunged at his chest. Although he expected her to say something that would hurt him, he still wasn't fully ready to hear those words.

"Just 2 months ago you said and thought differently. Back then you always told me you loved me and cherished me." He kindly reminded her.

"Maybe feelings change." She bluntly stated.

"Yes they do which is why I don't believe you when you say you don't feel anything for me anymore. I know my Y/N, I know the girl I fell in love with and I know that these past weeks, seeing how you're acting.......that's not you."

She didn't move away when he cupped her cheeks.

"I know you still love me, I can see it in your eyes. Your love is just restrained right now. Just give it time. Trust me."

Choking back tears, Y/N finally made eye contact with him.

"Just end it Mingi. I don't have the heart to do it, so please just end things with me. Don't hold onto me anymore. Move on with your life and find someone who can love you like you deserve to be loved."

Mingi immediately shook his head, that being an option he was not accepting.

"Baby, do you need some time on your own? Some time alone? I can give you that. Maybe that way it'll be good for you to use that time to get help and-"

"Mingi I cheated on you." She confessed.

His body stood frozen in place at her admittance, yet he was not shocked at all. The weird scent he detected on her and the way she sometimes recoiled from his touch as if guilt ate her alive, he always had that thought on the back of his head.

"So you fell in love with someone else?"

Y/N let out a sob.

"No.......absolutely not. It meant nothing and I just did it because I wanted to feel something, anything and he was right there. But that's no excuse and I'm sorry Mingi. I'm sorry I'm not the girlfriend you deserve. You deserve so much better than me. Someone who's not broken, foolish and dead already. So please..."

Her hands came up to hide her face as she began crying like she hadn't done in a long time.

"Just forget about me....."

Even if she didn't want it, Mingi embraced her, holding her tightly as she tearfully spilled her heart and emotions out. His heart ached for her. She was suffering, emotionally and mentally she was in pain and she didn't even want to admit it. He couldn't force her to get help, but he couldn't just leave her like that. It would tear him apart if he did. Stroking her hair, he waited until her sobbing and hyperventilating had calmed down before saying anything.

"Y/N.....you need some time alone. We....need some time alone. And I'm willing to give you as much time as you need to heal. But you have to promise me that you'll get help. It's not fair for you to keep living this way. You deserve to be happy."

Pulling back, he used his thumbs to brush away some of the tears off her cheeks.

"But this doesn't mean I'm ending things nor forgetting about you. This is only a break until you're all better and ready to come back to me."

Y/N stared at him in disbelief.

"Song Mingi, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought you were."

He giggled softly at that.

"I'm an idiot who loves you and will always love you. And this idiot knows you still love me, even if your brain refuses to let you believe it now."

Pressing his forehead against hers, he shut his eyes to keep himself from crying.

"I'll be waiting for you until you come back to me....."

Taking off the red scarf that was hanging on his neck, he wrapped it around her neck and softly padded it on.

I know you'll be back."

◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈

He left her with a final kiss on her lips and watched her walk away, disappearing from his life for about 2 years. Rain had begun to fall then just as it was falling in that moment. Picking up the untouched peppermint hot chocolate and discarding his cappuccino on a nearby trash bin, Mingi stepped out of the gazebo and began walking back to the hotel, not caring about getting soaked in the pouring rain. Perhaps it could help to mask the tears that were beginning to spill out from his eyes. He had never felt his longing for the person he still regarded as his soulmate so dearly as he felt right then and there. He felt as if his oxygen was being caught off, his hope was beginning to dwindle, all the words his friends would often say to him were revolving around his head.

Were they right? Should he stop waiting for her? Was he wrong? Should he just move on?

He was startled out of his thoughts when he heard someone open an umbrella behind him, the person hovering it over him so the rain wouldn't hit him anymore. He felt his heart beating harshly against his chest, some overpowering sensation telling him to turn around, which he slowly began to do. The first thing his eyes caught was the familiar red scarf tied to the person's neck. He recognized it immediately. And when he looked up at the face that was looking back at him, he no longer had any doubts left.

"Y/N...." He whispered out.

Through tears in her eyes, she smiled at him, not a fake nor cold one, but a genuine and heart warming smile, just like the one she had plastered on her face when they first met each other.

"Hey Mingi. How are you?" She asked.

"I...I'm fine. ....how are you?" They both knew what he was referring to.

"I'm a lot better actually. Taking medication still sucks but I'm a lot better and happier now. My therapist has been working with me all this time so...yeah.." She seemed a little awkward talking about it, but Mingi wasn't going to push her.

"I'm glad, I truly am happy for you."

Looking back at the cup in his hand, he held it out to her.

"It's probably not hot anymore, but it's your favorite."

Y/N was surprised that he even had or remembered what her favorite was. Taking a small sip, she couldn't help the tiny grin spreading on her cheeks.

"It's perfect. I never liked it super hot either way."

They both chuckled at that known fact between them. Soon there was another silence between them, and once again it was Mingi who broke it. Brushing some hair away from her face, he stared into her eyes.

"I love you."

Looking up at him, her eyes no longer void nor cold, but instead full of life and love, Y/N answered back.

"I love you too."

Unable to hold himself back, Mingi held her tightly, overwhelmed with emotions as he finally held the love of his life in his arms once more.

"I knew you'd come back to me...."

◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────⊱◈◈◈

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

Hello love! Could I request Who by Lauv ft. BTS, slow burn love and Skinny Sisk? Nobody ever writes about him. He’s so underrated!💓

Hello angel! Thank you for the request!! 🤗This was so fun, Skinny really is so underrated! (P.S. I'm slowly making my way through the rest of the requests. THANK YOU to everyone who sent them in, it's been so fun writing these.)

Skinny downed the rest of his beer, which was mainly froth now. He was supposed to meet Dalia half an hour ago but she had only just arrived and seemed in no rush to find him. They hadn’t even made eye contact yet, but he had spotted her. Like always, she was the most striking woman in the room, impossible not to notice. When she first entered she had been immediately rewarded with greetings from acquaintances, mostly men. Skinny wasn’t really the jealous type; he was only jealous of her time. Dalia didn’t seem to have a lot of it. The time she did have was often split between many people and Skinny had to wait his turn. That night, he noticed gloomily, she had brought a golden haired friend dressed in yellow. She was beautiful, but Skinny only saw her as one more person he had to share Dalia with.

He and Dalia had been dating - well kind of - for months now. After a string of successful dates Skinny had asked Dalia if she would like to go steady with him. She explained she wasn’t ready, so Skinny was patient. After a few more weeks he asked again, but Dalia had another excuse. She continued to flirt with him and Skinny continued to wait anchored in the hope that one day she would accept him as hers. But lately he was beginning to feel like a chump.

Finally, Dalia made her way over to him, the girl in the yellow dress trailing behind her.

“Hi Wayne,” Dalia gave him a kiss on the cheek. He leaned in to kiss her on the other cheek but she was already moving out of the way. He let his hand linger around her waist as she introduced him the stranger.

“This is Natasha, she’s an old friend from home,” Dalia smiled toothily, “I brought her to work for you boys.”

“Yes,” Natasha’s smile was strained, “Dalia was kind enough to recommend me for a job.” It was clear that they had recited this script more than a few times.

“Nice to meet you,” Skinny shook Natasha’s hand. He was keenly aware of Dalia’s eyes on him and he wanted to make a good impression. “So you’re from Maryland too?”

Natasha nodded, “never lived anywhere else, until now that is.”

“And what made you want to work here?” Skinny asked politely. He felt Dalia on his right turn to respond to another man’s catcall. She giggled and it took all of Skinny’s concentration to focus on what Natasha was saying.

Suddenly, Dalia touch his arm, interrupting the conversation, “I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere you two,” she winked at them then disappeared into the crowd.

Skinny stared helplessly at Natasha for a moment before regaining himself. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure,” Natasha smiled wearily at him. They approached the bar and continued talking.

“So you're one of Dalia’s boyfriends?”

Skinny nearly spilled the drinks in surprise, “um not quite. We’re dating but…”

“but can’t get her pinned down?” Natasha accepted a glass from him.

“We’re taking things slow.”

Natasha nodded but didn’t say anything more on the subject. Much to Skinny’s disappointment he didn’t see much of Dalia for the rest of the night. She was busy talking and flirting with other groups of the bar’s patrons. Every time Skinny began to feel down about it he reminded himself that Natasha had it worse. Her friend had all but abandoned her; at least Skinny knew other people in the bar. Natasha was new to the city and had no one. Skinny made a point of sticking with her, which turns out was far from a burden. Natasha was fun to hang out with. She was kind and had this quiet humor about her that Skinny found quite entertaining. He wasn’t the only one to notice either.

“Who was that dame you were chattin’ up Skinny? Don’t think I’ve seen her around,” Joe Liebgott asked as they walked home together.

Skinny dug his hands deep into his pockets, trying to get his mind off of Dalia. “That was Natasha, Dalia’s friend from home. She just moved here.”

Joe raised a curious eyebrow, “she got a fella?”

Skinny shrugged, “dunno.”

He soon found out that Natasha was in fact single but not looking. On another night out Dalia had once again abandoned them. Skinny, the dutiful wannabe boyfriend, stuck by her friend. As Skinny’s friends were collecting refills, he and Natasha enjoyed the last of their drinks. That’s when a drunken soldier came up to them. Natasha grabbed Skinny’s arm when the soldier began hitting on her.

“I don’t think my boyfriend would like that,” she responded when he invited her to do some explicit things in the back alley.

The soldier looked at them suspiciously, “he’s your boyfriend?” he gestured sloppily at Skinny.

Skinny was lost for words but he nodded his head when Natasha looked up at him with a pleading look. The defeated soldier scoffed but stumbled off to find a new victim for his harassment.

“Thanks,” Natasha said, but there was little gratitude in her voice.

“Does that happen often?” Skinny asked with concern.

“All the time,” Natasha smiled dryly at him, “not to brag.”

“Do you actually have a boyfriend?” Skinny asked.

Natasha snorted, “no, but are you surprised? When those are my options?” she gestured at the retreating soldier. Skinny took the opportunity to really look at her. They had spent all this time together but he had always been so distracted by the distant shadow of Dalia. The faintest freckles were endearingly sprinkled across Natasha’s nose, and her hair shone bright even in the dim lighting of the bar. Any guy would be lucky to have her, Skinny thought, no wonder she got hit on so often.

Skinny and Natasha found themselves in each other’s company many times as he continued to pine after Dalia. At points, he wondered if he actually knew Natasha better than he knew Dalia. But those thoughts quickly dissipated as soon as he lay eyes on Dalia again. Sure, Natasha was easy to be around; Skinny felt like himself when he was with her. But Dalia was electric. She was beautiful, and charming, and he was addicted. He was willing to do anything just for a few moments of her attention.

One night Skinny settled into a chair beside Natasha, his eyes on Dalia.

“You know you don’t have to sit with me,” Natasha said. Her feet were propped up on a stool and her dress skirts hung messily, hiked up her legs. Skinny shrugged in response.

“Go have fun with your friends! Or go talk to Dalia!” Natasha urged him.

Skinny looked over to where Dalia was laughing with a co-ed group, “she’s busy, I’ll talk to her later.”

Natasha smiled pitifully at him.

“What?” he asked.


“You’re a sweet guy, Wayne,-"

“You know you don’t gotta call me that,” Skinny said, “really only Dalia does. Everyone else calls me Skinny or Sisk.”

Natasha nodded, “well maybe it’s not my place, but if it were me, I don’t know if I’d stick around for Dalia.”

“What do you mean?” Skinny asked innocently, though he had idea of what was coming. He had heard if from his buddies before: whipped.

“Dalia’s an old friend, I think she’s lovely, but she’s always been like this,” Natasha said. “How long have you guys been dating? How long have you been waiting around for her?”

Skinny didn’t respond but he turned to look directly at her. Natasha’s eyes were like pools of melted chocolate and Skinny felt the oddest sensation looking into them. “Clearly she’s not giving you the attention you want,” Natasha continued, “and you deserve someone who gives you what you want and need.” Skinny looked away, those round brown eyes were making his stomach flip in the most peculiar way.

He shrugged, “yeah, maybe.”

“Anyways,” Natasha sipped her drink, “that’s my two cents. Do what you want with it.”

Skinny tried to ignore Natasha’s words but they gnawed at him every time Dalia rebuked him. Slowly, his thoughts of Dalia began to be replaced by images of Natasha; of her laughing, playing darts, and those big, warm eyes.

One weekend Skinny and his friends met up with Dalia and Natasha a dance in the local city hall.


“You gonna ask her to dance or what?” Joe Liebgott pointed to where Natasha was sitting on a bench on the edge of the dance floor. Dalia hadn’t left the dance floor since she got there. It seemed nearly impossible to get on her dance card.

“You’re not seriously waiting around for a dance with Dalia are you?” Joe asked him.

“I don’t know who else to dance with!” Skinny said.

“Natasha,” Joe gestured, “obviously!” Skinny hesitated. “Skinny, Dalia is a khaki wacky, it’s about time you get over her. There’s a perfectly good dame over there who you’re clearly into!”

Skinny stared at his friend in confusion, “into? Who? Natasha?”


“Yes.”

“I’m not into Natasha.”

“Are you kidding me? You two are inseparable,” Joe said.

“We’re friends,” Skinny shrugged.

Joe rolled his eyes, “sure, well, go ask your friend to dance. She looks lonely over there.” Joe disappeared into the crowd, leaving Skinny to his own devices.

Skinny finally asked Natasha to dance but of course, with his luck, as soon as they were on the floor a slow song for lovers came on. He wasn’t going to be rude and ask her to wait for the next song so he pulled Natasha close and they began to dance. The lights dimmed as the music slowed. The scent of rose wafted up from Natasha’s hair and Skinny couldn’t help but think how perfectly she fit in his arms. He didn’t think of Dalia once, that is until the song came to an end. Natasha reached up and pressed her lips against his. For a moment, Skinny leaned into the kiss. Her lips were soft and warm, her breath sweet. Then a vision of Dalia came into his mind. Skinny broke the kiss and was met by Natasha’s questioning brown eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asked.

“But we’re, we-,” Skinny stumbled, “we’re friends?”

Natasha stepped out of his embrace, her face flushed pink. She turned and hurried off the dance floor. Skinny followed after her, “Natasha, wait!” he called. But she didn’t slow down until she reached a corner of the hall.

“What?” she hissed. Her arms were crossed and her eyes darted around the dance hall to see who may be eavesdropping.

“That kiss,” he gestured at the dance floor, “I just- you kissed me.”

“Yeah, and?” she demanded in a hushed voice.

“Well, we’re friends,” he repeated dumbly.

“No, we’re not friends,” she said coldly, but there was hurt in her eyes. “You’re just an idiot in love with my friend, and I was a fool to think you’d ever get over her.”

Skinny looked as if he had been smacked. His mouth hung open in shock as he desperately searched for the words to respond.

“See you around, Skinny.” The disappointment was clear in her voice. And then the girl in the yellow dress was was gone.

Skinny wandered back to where Joe and their other friends were standing around chatting.

“What wrong Skinny?” Floyd Talbert asked.

“I fucked up,” Skinny said. Mentally he was kicking himself. Why had he reacted so stupidly? He had enjoyed that kiss!

Joe looked at him with a knowing look. “What happened?” Floyd asked.

“I just- I didn’t realize what was right in front of me until it was too late.

Joe nodded sagely. Floyd looked between Skinny and Joe in confusion, “what was right in front of you?”

“You know what you gotta do right?” Joe said, ignoring Floyd.

“What?” Floyd asked.

Skinny swallowed and looked at the floor, “it’s too late, I embarrassed her. She’ll never forgive me.”

“All ya gotta do is say you're sorry!” Joe said, “and mean it!”

“I don’t know Joe,” Skinny said hesitantly.

“Is anyone gonna tell me what’s going on?” Floyd asked flatly.

“The longer you wait, the worse it's gonna get,” Joe insisted.

Skinny took a deep breath considering his friend's words. He exhaled, and after a pause said, “okay, okay,” he felt the confidence growing inside of him, “okay, I’ll see you fellas later.” He dashed off out the door hoping that Natasha was still nearby.

“We won’t wait up!” Joe called jokingly after him, but Skinny hardly heard him. He was off to win over the girl he wanted and the girl he needed.

[crewhonk]

Hey loved the Poe thigh-riding fic! Could you maybe do poe x reader wedding night smut where they get married quickly before a big battle cos they don't want to die not married to each other? That would be awesome thanks😊

AN: No smut, cause I got too excited about the wedding part for it tbh. y'all can request it tho if its something you want

_____________

The low hum of the X-Wings and the small sound of static from he comm systems were the only thing either you or Poe could hear. You were on your way to Exegol– the final big battle you’d been praying for day and night just so that you could hang up your blaster and helmet for a long while. You wanted a small farm with your boyfriend, Poe Dameron, and you wanted rocking chairs not he front porch. You wanted to have a sunset moment with you wearing a soft dress and Poe looking at you like you’d laced the night sky with stars. 

That was the image you kept with yourself as you arrived, the battalion of fighter jets already coming under heavy fire. The image of the sun setting and warm light drifting through your cottage kitchen window and filling the room with a soft golden glow was what you held onto when the original comm tower was shut down. The sound of little feet pattering around the house and little voices shrieking with joy as they landed themselves in daddy’s arms helped you keep from spiralling down he the ground when Snap died. 

It seemed when all hope was lost, Poe Dameron, the love of your life, really loved to make it all about him. 

“YN!” He cried, fear making his voice yell. He steered his ship to spiral around yours and shoot down the TIE chasing you. “YN!” He called again, coming to speed beside you. You looked at him briefly before clenching your teeth and maneuvering in a way that took down three more ships. 

“Yes, Poe?” You tried, grunting when the G’s finally stopped. 

“Marry me!” He shouted, dancing his ship around your own. Time seemed to slow down in that instant, and you found yourself having time to look up at the underbelly of his ship as if he could see your incredulous expression. 

“You know, I really don’t think that now is the best time for that!” You called back, scooping up under him to shield him from the flames of a bomb that had gone off– thank force that you’d decked out your ship with flame resistant plating when you could. 

“I’m not going to die without you being my wife!” He cried out, watching as three more of your squadron were blown from the sky. 

“How about you don’t die at all, huh?” You yelled back, soaring towards the newly designated target. 

“I want you to be my wife, YN. I won’t wait a minute longer.” He replied simply, and you were silent for a few moments. Steering your ship and protecting Poe almost subconsciously. You bit your tongue and nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you opened the comm link to Jess’s line. 

“Jess.” You said and she grunted in response. You hadn’t known her for a long time, but int hat time you’d went from her worst enemy (she was protective of her Black Squadron Family) to being soulmates and threatening Poe that you’d leave him anyway for her. 

“What’s up?” She called back, trying her best to sound casual as you watched her pull a risky maneuver, falling 100 feet before pulling up and sending TIE fighters to smash against the ground. 

“Marry us. Me and Poe. Marry us.” You said and she laughed out loud. 

“I’m kind of busy here, Kid.” She snorted, blasting more ships. 

“Jess, please.” Poe gasped, narrowly missing a tracking missile. Jess, upon hearing The Poe Dameron use his manners for once in her life, stopped herself from making any further jokes. It was when Poe used his manners that she knew something was serious. 

You both could hear Jess sigh slowly before clearing her throat. “We are gathered here today–”

“Skip to the good part.” Poe demanded and you and Jess snorted. 

“Will you, Poe Dameron, take YN YLN to be your lawfully wedded wife and cherish her in sickness and in health and until death do you part?” Jess asked and you could almost hear Poe’s smile through your headset. 

“I do.”

“Will you, YN YLN, take Poe Dameron to be your lawfully wedded husband and cherish her in sickness and in health and until–”

“I do, I do. Yes.” You sniffed, tears coming to your eyes. Sure, it wasn’t the perfect wedding, but damn if it didn’t make your soul feel like gold. 

“Then by the power vested in me by the force and whoever else, I declare you man and wife. I’d say you may kiss the bride, but–” Jess grinned, watching as yours and Poe’s ships came closer together. The battle was falling, and your side was losing, but you’d felt as if you’d won a million dollars. Poe steered his ship to be as close to yours as possible and looking to the side, you placed one hand on the window, watching as he mirrored your actions. 

“I love you,” You whispered, and he smiled, the corners of his lips meeting his ears. 

“I’m going to kiss you so hard when he survive this battle.” He swore and you giggled, pulling up to avoid another explosion. 

“I’m counting on it, Dameron.”

______________________________

The battle had finished by some miracle you likes to call Uncle Lando. 

You arrived back at base quickly, and landed your ship. You popped the cockpit roof before the plane had even touched the ground fully and were climbing out of it as soon as you were cleared. Your combat boots hit the ground with a thud as you began running into the crowd, searching for the one person you wanted to see. 

You found him, climbing out of the red x-wing, and sprinted towards him s best you could considering your ability to weave through crowds who had just won a war. 

It was just as he turned away from he ladder that you threw your arms around him, pressing your lips to his in a feverish, desperate kiss of tongue and teeth and surprised grunts. 

Upon realizing that it was you, Poe wrapped two strong arms around your waist and leaned forward, making you arch your back and press your body into his. Your hands were splayed across his cheeks as his lips worked your own. Your noses bumped each other in your haste to just kiss each other for the first time as husband and wife and free people. 

You pulled away eventually, and before you could even say anything, he unzipped the top of his flight suit quickly, pulling the chain from his neck and unlooping it. He slid his mothers ring from it and grabbed your right hand, dropping it hastily and snagging your left one instead. You giggled at his nerves and excitement as he slid the ring on your finger– it was a perfect fit. 

“I had it adjusted a week after I met you.” He admitted, pink dusting his cheeks as he smiled sheepishly at your through his lashes. You grinned– a full, bright smile that stole the breath froths lungs as you launched forward and kissed him soundly. 

“I love you, Poe Dameron. This was the best damn wedding day in the galaxy.”

“I happen to agree, YN Dameron. And I love you so much more.”

[hydra-collector]

Suck Me Out

Ships: Intrulogical, some Intruloceit

Characters: Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Janus Sanders (minor character), Roman Sanders (minor character), Virgil Sanders (minor character), Patton Sanders (minor character)

TW: Self-harm, choking, autoerotic asphyxation (not really though), depression, self-deprecation, I don’t want to spoil but if any of those previous tags bother you even a little, I suggest you don’t read this (I’ll tag the spoiler, though), cursing

Words: 1,716

Summary: Remus wouldn't expect them to understand. He's intrusive thoughts, god of kinks. Of course they wouldn't see it. But once in a while he wished they would.

"I'm serious, Logan," Remus gestured to his tightly adorned garment, "necktie."

Logan rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. "When you're done with your kinks, join us for movie night. We finally get to watch a documentary."

Remus shrugged and pulled tighter the pretty blue tie that had previously been on Logan's neck. His face was purple from the cutoff of blood and his hand struggled to keep grip. He began to tilt backwards a little towards the wall before Logan took his arm and pried away the tie.

"Remus, stop. You're gonna fall."

"But it feels so good."

Logan only sighed in response and reclaimed the tie around his own neck, leading Remus to the living room. 

Roman was the first to speak out of the welcoming mumbles.

"Remus, save your arousal for night time. We're trying to watch a fun movie about space," though he seemed skeptical of the amount he could enjoy a documentary.

Patton scolded the two of them for mentioning such subjects, but swiftly put on the movie anyway. 

Virgil and Roman became surprisingly enamored in the science of black holes and their possible opposite, white holes. Logan excitedly paused it at multiple points to fawn over or elaborate on some of the research like a child. Remus, however, sat leaning against Logan, staring mindlessly at the television.

What if I was in a black hole? 

Remus tried to shake the thought off, but it was persistent. 

If black holes lead to white ones that spit you out into another universe, could my world here end? 

Maybe he'd be happy in this other universe. Something in his brain would change and the sadness would be gone. Or maybe it'd be traumatic. 

"...Remus!"

"Huh?"

"I paused the movie to see if you were alright. You did not seem to notice when I did."

"Yeah, I'm, I'm fine. Think I'll just…" mumbling off something about the bathroom. 

The minute he left he felt lonely. And stupid. Lonely and stupid. He shouldn't have let them see that. Now Logan's gonna be concerned because there's obviously something wrong. He stared intently at the mirror. 

Ugly. They hate me. 

What if he said that to them? He'd be guilt-tripping them and he'd be a terrible person. Even thinking it , he's a terrible person. Die.

His arms flashed to his neck, grabbing as tight as possible. His balance began failing… 

No, he can't do that. Then he worries them and they don't need that. How does he even know death is better than this?

Thomas doesn’t need him. Thomas doesn’t want him. His mental health would be better if he never even existed. Thomas doesn’t deserve what he does.

I want to fix that.

He can't help but cry. Muffled shrieks that must sound like moans from the living room. Sharp breaths that must sound like enjoyment slip out. Hits to his arms and legs that only add to the many bruises sound disgusting to them.

But none of it is. 

Sure, they have good reason to believe that Remus has some kinks, he is indeed mostly intrusive thoughts, which he’d admit is related to kinks, but he half-wished they wouldn't assume. He didn't really want them to know, but it killed him to be constantly alone about it. 

Alone.

Forever alone.

Logan, Patton, Roman, and Virgil. They’re the “light sides.” Of course he’s happy Janus got accepted, but… he doesn’t get that. He probably never will.

Fuck it. 

He tiptoed his way to his bedroom, ceiling adorned with a hook in preparation. On a day easier than this, he’d drilled it for today. Under his bed sat a box holding the rope, paper, and pen he’d carefully hidden. He thanked his previous self.

Tying the noose, his ears kept open for visitors wondering where he was. Before he hung himself at last, he wrote.

I’m sorry. 

Patton, Virgil, I love you. Janus, I love you. My brother, I love you. And Logan. I love you. Thank you for caring. 

But it wasn’t a kink.

He questioned if he should refer to Roman as his brother, and decided at last to do it. He didn’t want to alienate him as he died. He’d never get to tell him again.

I’m glad this is the end. I wasn’t needed.

He kicked the chair from under him.

Thomas will be happier without me.

As the rope constricted, relief and fear washed over him.

They all will.

“Remus!”

--

His throat hurt.

“Remus?”

He then noticed he could see a face. A beautiful face.

Logan?

“L-”

As soon as he tried to speak, his throat stopped him. Logan took his cheek in comfort.

“It’s okay, Remus. We found you. You’re going to be okay.”

He looked around to find he was sitting on his soft bed, pillows piled behind his head. The rope, and the hook were both gone. A drill, that had presumably been used to remove the hook, sat on the far dresser.

“We found your note.” It was Roman this time.

“I’m so sorry we ever thought it was a kink. We should have talked to you.” Logan’s eyes were gazing prettily at Remus’s.

“-”

He was reminded he couldn’t speak, so pointed to the paper on which his note was, and made a writing motion. Logan soon obliged to his wishes, though getting a different paper. Remus began to write. Again.

You had good reason to think it was.

He smiled a bit, and would have laughed, when Roman and Logan read this. They didn’t seem as amused as he was, and only looked worried. He flailed his arms to get the paper back.

Y’all don’t understand my sense of humor.

Where’s everyone else?

Logan beckoned to the door and Janus, Virgil, and Patton came in. Seeing Janus’s scales, his beautiful face… he never did get to ask him out.

Janus.

Logan brought him over while Remus wrote his message.

Probably not the best time, but I’d like to take this opportunity to tell you that both me and Logan have a crush on you.

“What?”

His human side grew red. Someone, who you like, who’s just attempted suicide telling you they want to date you is a very odd feeling.

“Remus, what did you-” Logan attempted to look at his message to Janus, and immediately shut up when he saw it.

Can I talk to Virgil now?

Virgil had been snickering in his corner, seemingly able to read the paper. He stopped as soon as he was called, putting on a more serious face.

Sorry Janus pushed you down the stairs.

“Wh- you’re not going to say some sad thing about me leaving the dark sides and you getting depressed? Just apologizing for Janus?”

I’m not going to blame it on you. It was Janus who pushed you down the stairs. And my idea.

“I’d call you an asshole but you’ve just attempted suicide and this is your daily personality.”

Remus made peace signs before requesting to talk to Patton, who unsurprisingly apologized over and over for treating Remus like a piece of shit. He did need to apologize, but Remus knew he was making an effort. Even if it wasn’t going very well.

Hey Ro-Ro, my bro-bro.

Roman also apologized. 

I mean we were literally split for you to be the “good” brother and me to be the “bad” one. If anything that made it the worst.

Roman had nothing to do but give him a hug.

Logan,

could I have a kiss?

Logan smiled and kissed Remus lightly on the cheek. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a good idea to kiss someone on the lips if they’d been frothing at the mouth. 

That was tiny!

He would have gone to cuddle and kiss Remus more if no one else had been there. For now, Remus hugged everyone individually until they dispersed. 

Thankfully, Logan was put on watch duty, to make sure Remus really was feeling better, as he seemed, and wouldn’t try anything.

Logan pressed kisses to Remus’s forehead, cheeks, and nose. His warmth bled onto Remus, who desperately needed it. Logan’s eyes were beautiful. His arms wrapped around him. He felt safe. Remus snuggled into the affection, nearly happy he’d attempted suicide and been found. But-

He picked up the pen and paper again, reluctant to let go.

Logan, what if I did that because I wanted attention?

“Hey, Remus, no. You did it because everyone’s been against you. It’s made you feel like you don’t matter. But you do. We need you. Even if you did because of attention, it was because you needed attention. It’s okay if you wanted attention. If you were willing to go to… those lengths just to get attention, you needed it.”

Logan

thank y-

Remus’s eyes filled with bittersweet tears before he managed to finish writing, and he clutched Logan tight. He let go again to tell him more.

I felt so horrible. I still feel so horrible. I’m sorry I acted so happy when I wasn’t. I know you care but I shouldn’t be here. All I do is hurt Thomas. Now I’ll hurt him even more because I failed. He’s going to feel like shit. I’d pull out my own organs and put them in my horrible person pile if I could. It would have been okay if I’d succeeded. I’m so sorry if you would’ve missed me, but I can’t keep hurting Thomas. If I would’ve died he would have been fine, but I failed so-

Remus sobbed into Logan’s arms again, laying as close as possible, feeling his warmth, his body as much as possible. His boyfriend rubbed his hand over his back, arms, through his hair. He was starting to cry a little as well. He felt so horrible that he hadn’t helped how Remus felt.

“Remus, if a part of Thomas died, he’d have a piece of himself missing. It may not seem like Thomas wants or needs you, but you’re a part of him nonetheless.”

What do I do?

“Remus,” Logan turned his boyfriend’s face gently to look him in the eyes, “all you need to do is stay alive.”

What if I can’t?

“I'll be with you. As long as you need. You stay alive as long as you can.”

[boy2reality]

Ready for more memories of being a lab rat? I sure as shit wasn't, but here they are anyway. [Warnings for: body horror, abuse, hospitals.]

So! After my stomach got... Replaced/fused with whatever my darling ol' dad decided to put in me, I couldn't eat anymore. I was a bit too traumatized and in shock to care about not ever being able to eat a cheeseburger again. I was more like... How in the hell am I supposed to live like this? Am I gonna have to live in the hospital for the rest of my life? Are they going to do more experiments on me? Every time the door to my room opened in the morning, I was terrified they were going to wheel me to the operating room.

My intuition is telling me that my days were pretty routine for the next month or so. Twice a day I would be put into a wheelchair and wheeled around the facility. The person wheeling me around would often stop in front of people who were experiencing strong emotions; the grief of losing a loved one, the joy of welcoming a new child into the world, arguments between people. Witnessing these strong emotions would translate into sustenance for me. The stronger the emotions, the more full I would get.

The rest of the time, I would be left in my bed. I would occasionally request entertainment, and sometimes it would be granted. I ended up with a small pile of books and magazines at my bedside table, along with a purple Game Boy Advance. (Woo, another past life with Nintendo products!)

Unfortunately, this peace wouldn't last. Once I had been deemed 'recovered' from the stomach surgery, additional experimentation began to be conducted on me. I currently remember two 'minor' experiments, and one 'major' one.

We'll start off with the minor, since they're extremely fuzzy to me. I hadn't been hooked up to an IV in quite some time. So I was a bit confused when two staff members wheeled in a new set of bags. One of them had a clear liquid in it, while the other had this... Sickly green liquid in it. They ended up hooking both of them up to me and leaving.

I know I ended up getting extremely ill from whatever was in those bags. I became totally delirious, was running a high fever, sweating profusely. I think they left it in me for... Maybe a day? It was absolutely miserable. It took me weeks to recover fully from.

A second, but extremely fuzzy memory of testing... A single staff member brought in this weird... Stethoscope... Thing? I plan on drawing all of the strange devices and shit I saw. He put the earpieces in his ears. The other end had these two cold beads that he drug across the interior of my arm. He very carefully glided it across my skin... Then suddenly pushed the beads down hard, and an electric surge went through my body. At least, that's what it felt like. He did this to all my limbs and then left.

So now we're onto the big one.

I ended up getting sent back to the operating room. I was absolutely terrified. My father was there, along with two other staff members. There was a long horizontal window that I could see them through, and they were chattering excitedly. One of them was holding something in their hands. Another weird piece of tech that I'd never seen before.

This is the one I got the best look out of. It resembled a speaker, and had three dials on the front of it. It was plated with gold. There was no plug-in for it. I'll definitely draw it here soon. After they were done talking amongst themselves, they came in and put it on the bedside table ahead of me.

At this point, I was sobbing. I knew nothing good was going to come of this. I was flat out wailing to my dad. Tears were practically flying out of my eyes. Please, please don't do this. I know nothing good comes from these devices. My cries fell on deaf ears. I screamed at them, told them to stop. No answer. No compassion. Just cold, methodical ignorance.

They twisted the center dial on the device and scurried out of the room. I heard a shrill beeping from beyond the door, and then a loud thud. I was still sobbing from the sheer terror I was feeling, but... The speaker began to play.

I was totally entranced by it. God, it's so hard to explain. At first, it emitted this flat tone, almost like a frequency. But it continued to rise in pitch. I felt this... Sensation, near my ears. Almost like something was trying to get into my brain through them. I could do nothing to fight it. My head was totally empty.

The tone rose and rose in pitch, and eventually, it... Went above the highest pitch it could manage? It sounded like an explosion of sound. Whatever was trying to enter my brain succeeded. You know when you dive into a pool of cold water? That's what it felt like, but... In my head. It felt like cold water was flowing in my head. It honestly felt kind of good. This sensation lasted for minutes, and I had closed my eyes, taking it all in.

But then, the 'music explosion' ended, and the tone came back. I opened my eyes, and saw something coming out of the speaker. Dark, shadowy tendrils were floating out of it, and they STRUCK at me. They violently entered my head through my ears, causing an intense throbbing pain. It felt like they were trying to reach every area of my brain. I spasmed and screamed my head off. For a brief moment, through all the pain, I opened my eyes and saw that there were these... Shadow people. Surrounding my bed, smiling at me.

And just like that, it was over. Like flicking a light switch, the pain was gone, the shadows were gone, any strange sensations were gone. I was understandably freaking the fuck out. My father came in with an expectant look on his face, and asked me if I could hear him.

I was so pissed I'm pretty sure I was frothing at the mouth. I spit on him and told him, uh, YEAH, I can hear you, you fucking bastard, get me out of here. He ignored both the spit on his face and my verbal nastiness and ordered staff to take me back to my room.

This unfortunately wasn't my only experience with the device I (un)lovingly call the 'audiovisual torture cube', but this is getting long enough. Thankfully, my next log will be the end of being a lab rat.

[badcowboy69]

High Kaydia Heartthrob

Here’s a small bit of an AU of sorts having Travis and his husband Riley featured in the universe I created years ago.  It’s a planet that’s all “old west” but with some modern luxuries to it.  It’s all part of my almost 500 page novel I wrote about me and my bad cowboy.  And before anyone asks, NO you cannot read it nor will it ever be posted anywhere.  It’s a guarded treat I only let those near and dear to my heart read.  Anyhoo...this is a small spin off of sorts from the saga @fuzzyelves and I created recently.  I hope anyone that reads this enjoys it and I’m more than willing to answer any questions about it. Placed under the cut for length.  Enjoy!

My ride home from High Kaydia was finally over and I wearily guided my horse, Chance, up the dirt path of my parents’ ranch to the shaded comfort of the barn.  The ranch was quiet, which was unusual, but for that I was thankful.  I wasn’t wanting to deal with my parents and their curious questions right now.  My mind was already a flurry of activity and I didn’t want it clouded with anything else.  

Dismounting, I began to remove Chance’s tack and put it to the side so I could tend to his needs first.  I wiped the sweat and froth from his body then checked and cleaned his hooves.  Satisfied with his well being, I led him to the gate leading to the pasture and let him loose.  He gave a shrill whinney seeing his friends and galloped off.  I sighed as I watched him run with Ghost, Domino, Sundance, and all the other horses of my mom’s small herd.  My thoughts went to Riley’s horse, Indigo, and I imagined her running alongside them.

“Shit!”  My daydream shattered as I remembered I promised to call Riley to let him know I arrived home safely.  Jogging back to the barn, I gathered up my pack and quickly made my way to the house.  Stepping inside I noticed how empty and quiet it was and I wondered where my folks were.  Then again, maybe it was better I didn’t know!  Blushing at the thought, I went to the phone and fished Riley’s number out of my wallet.  After requesting to be connected, I stood nervously while twisting the phone cord around my fingers in anticipation.

“White’s General and Supply.  Riley speaking.”

My heart about soared hearing the smooth tones of Riley’s voice and a pleasant wash of warmth surged through me.  “Hey there, mister.  Wondering if y’all got any sickle blades in stock?”

Following a small bit of silence, I heard a soft gasp on the other end followed by, “Oh, Travis it’s you!  I take it you’re home now?”

“Yeah, not happily, though.  I really wish I coulda stayed on another night,” I frowned, finding an unfamiliar yearning in my entire being to be in Riley’s company once again.  

“Likewise.” was the short answer followed by an uncomfortable pause.  I knew he had to be missing me like I was him.  At least I hoped.  After a few moments, he continued.  “I...I really had a great time with you last night, Travis. I hope that we can hang out and do it again very soon.”

I nodded to myself then directed my eyes towards the window hearing my mom’s joyful laughter from somewhere outside.  I had to make this quick.  “M-me too.  Um...listen, my folks are gonna be here any minute now and I’m sure they’re gonna harass me about stuff so I better scoot.  I’ll try and give you a call tonight if you want.”

“That sounds good.  Actually, I can call you if you’d like?  After dinner maybe?  We could probably discuss plans about my coming to visit you.  Maybe later this week?  How does that sound?”

I couldn’t contain the huge grin that spread across my face hearing that.  He truly did want to continue seeing me!  I cleared my throat and pushed my hat off my brow.  “S-sounds perfect!  I’ll...I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you then.  Thanks again for everything.  Talk to you soon!”  After I heard him bid me goodbye for now, I hung up the phone and sighed.  I didn’t want to miss him, but I did.  I only hoped it wouldn’t be too long until we saw one another again.

The screen door squeaked loudly indicating that someone entered the house and I turned to see my mom carrying a basket of eggs.  “Well, there’s my adventurous son home at last!” she exclaimed while putting the basket on the counter.  “How was your trip?  Did you manage to get the saw blades?”

“Y-yeah, I did.  Got ‘em in my saddlebags back in the barn.  I have to get ‘em and put my gear away soon.  Thought I’d come in and get a cold drink, first.”  Giving one last glance at the phone, I went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer.  As I twisted off the cap, I noticed my mom was leaning against the counter with her arms crossed in front of her chest and a knowing smile on her lips.  I felt my cheeks warm with a blush and I quickly turned away.  “I...uhh...I better go and get those blades and tack put away afore pa gets sore at me leaving things lying around.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” she replied.  

I felt her eyes still on me as I guzzled down the beer.  I was about to put the empty bottle on the counter when she stepped in front of me and placed her hand on my arm.  I looked sheepishly at her and bit my lower lip.  “Anything wrong?”

“What’s he like?”

I paled.  “Wh-who?”

“The man in High Kaydia who caught your fancy.  Travis, you can deny it all you want, but a mother knows these things.” 

I rubbed the back of my neck and looked away, but felt her hand on my cheek turning me face her again.  “It’s nothing to be upset about.  I’m glad you found someone who’s special enough for you to keep busting up blades over and making a two hour ride to go and get.  I take it he’s a store keep?”

I nodded shortly making her smile gently.  She patted my cheek and nodded in approval.  “Well, whenever you’re ready to share details about him, I’d love to hear them.”  She pulled me into a tight hug and sighed.  “And don’t worry about your father.  As much as he squawks about that town, he’ll trust your judgement.  Now, go get your stuff put away before he does find something to squawk about.”

Nodding, I pulled from her embrace and hurriedly slipped out the backdoor and headed to the barn.  As I hung up the new sickle blades in the workshop, I heard my pa’s fox cries of “Yip, yip, yip!” out in the distance indicating that he was herding up our few cows for their routine inspection.  I was glad as it also meant he wouldn’t be crossing my path anytime soon.  Even though ma said he wouldn’t have issues with my having a possible love interest in High Kaydia, I still didn’t want to deal with any probing questions or comments.

Love interest?  

I snorted at that thought and began to give my tack the once over before putting it all away in their appropriate spots.  Heading back to the house, my mind drifted to Riley again.  Could he truly become a love interest?  I sure would like to hope so.  Although romancing and stuff really isn’t something I’m all too familiar with, I ain’t exactly too green with it either.  Mostly it was the random cowboy that moseyed onto our ranch looking for temporary help before he continued on his way.  Handsome face, kind heart, sweet talker.  Never amounted to anything, really.  Maybe a few casual outings...usually a smooch or two, maybe a handjob, but I never let it go beyond that.  Why bother?  Why get emotionally and physically involved with someone I probably would never see again?  Or even want to.  Shit like that always left me feeling unsatisfied and dirty anyways.  I also never pictured myself to be the relationship kind of guy none either.

So, why Riley?  What makes my feelings for him different?  

I grabbed another beer from the fridge before continuing to my room, scooping up my discarded pack along the way.  I slung it on the bed and closed the door with a sigh as I twisted the cap off my bottle and took a deep drink almost emptying it.  “Dammit.”  I sat heavily on the bed and pulled off my boots, wiggling my toes to get the circulation back in them from being cramped up from the long ride home.  Flopping backwards, I closed my eyes and draped my arm over my brow.  I wanted to nap, but now that I was alone and relaxing, my mind had other ideas.

Riley.

Again with Riley.  

I groaned and rubbed my face with my hands then stared up at the ceiling.  There was no denying I had it bad for him and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.  It couldn’t be bad, though, could it?  I mean, he made me feel great!  I love listening to him talk and I love simply being in his company.  I love hearing him laugh at my dumb jokes or antics.  I love the surge of warmth or tingles that went through me from any thought, any touch...any time those gorgeous blue eyes of his gazed at me.  And don’t even get me started about that red hair!

Lordy!  When he permitted me to touch it last night I could have died right there on the spot!  

I rolled over on my side, grabbed my pillow, and clutched it tightly to my chest.  My arms ached to hold him again.  My lips ached to kiss him again.  I started yearning to have his body pressed against mine like it was last night when we kissed goodnight in the shadows along the side of the bed and bath.  The first kiss we shared by the campfire was plenty amazing as it was, but the goodnight kiss?  Woo boy!  I never wanted it to end!  

Riley had me backed against the side of the house with his hands clutching my hips keeping me close against him.  My hands were busy fussing with his amazing red hair, of course.  Riley was murmuring a few gentle compliments, but I hardly heard them 'cause my concentration was somewhere else...mostly on how close we were.  I held him tight, my fingers pressed against his back while I secretly wished for our shirts to be off.  I wanted so badly to feel the heat of his freckled skin against mine in the cool evening air.     

I now began wondering just how much hair covered his chest and I not only imagined myself gliding my hands over it, but also found myself shifting my thoughts to his freckles.  I also began to wonder to what extent those freckles went on him and if I’d be lucky enough to touch every one someday.  Did they cover his back?  Did they dot his legs?  Hell, did they go throughout his inner thighs?  The hell with touching them, I think I’d much rather glide my tongue over them!  A groan escaped my throat with that fantasy and once again I imagined us up in a hay loft.  To explore him in those small, but intimate ways would surely be a dream come true!

I sighed and turned over onto my back, still clutching my pillow against me.  I also discovered my left hand had a will of its own and it managed to slip down the front of my britches without my even realizing.  I blushed and immediately yanked my hand from there.  What the hell is wrong with me?  I ain’t never felt like this way about nobody before.  As badly as I wouldn’t mind getting closer to him than our light smooches and touches, I really wanted to learn a bit more about him along the way.  I mean, you could find someone that could be the best lay in the world, but if they were a horrible or boring person then no amount of fucking would be worth it.

Thankfully, I already knew from the small bit of time spent with Riley there was no way in hell he was boring.  So far every moment we were together was fun and amazing.  Hell, every time I was around him I felt my heart soar!  And with his gentle personality I seriously doubted he was a horrible person none either.  Still, there was so much more to learn about him and I truly hoped he’ll teach me for a long, long time to come.  

  Fin~  for now....

[leiascully]

if you're taking fic requests (sorry if you're not) could you write a post-revival fic where william is staying with mulder and scully in the unremarkable house and mulder wakes up in the middle of the night hearing william wandering around downstairs having gotten up to let daggoo out and also he couldn't sleep and he and mulder talk

Timeline: Post Season 11Rating: PGCharacters: Jackson, Mulder, DaggooA/N:  Better late than never?

The floor creaks and Mulder is awake instantly.  Scully just mumbles and turns over as he eases out of bed.  He doesn’t know how she sleeps through these things.  Maybe she’s just more righteous than he is, or maybe it’s his lifetime of insomnia still nudging him out of his dreams.  Maybe it’s the pregnancy.  She has seemed exhausted lately.  He picks up his weapon from the bedside table and pulls a clip out of the drawer.  Better safe than sorry, he thinks as he slots it in.  They’ve had more than a few unwelcome visitors the past few years.  He slides his feet into his slippers and pads down the hallway.  At least he wasn’t sleeping in the nude tonight.

There’s definitely someone in the house.  There’s a light on in the kitchen and Mulder can see a shadow.  Daggoo is barking quietly, these little excited sounds.  He doesn’t sound upset.  Mulder creeps down the stairs one at a time, sliding the clip into his weapon.  

“It’s just me,” Jackson says as Mulder comes down the stairs.   Mulder knocks the clip back out of his weapon and tucks the weapon and the clip in separate pockets of his pajamas.  Jackson stands in the doorway to the kitchen, Daggoo’s leash in his hand.  Daggoo prances beside him, and Jackson stoops to pick up the little dog.  Daggoo licks at his face and whines.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Mulder tells him.  

Jackson shrugs.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, buddy,” Mulder says.  “But text next time.  Send a psychic message.  Postcard.  Skywriting.  Whatever.”

“I see why she likes you,” Jackson says.  “The dog needed to go out.”

“Daggoo,” Mulder says.

“Excuse me?” Jackson says.  It’s hard to think of him that way.  It’s hard not to call him William, especially when Mulder can see himself in that face.  Mulder wishes he could sling his arm around his boy, ruffle his hair, all that dad shit.  He didn’t know what he was giving up when he left.  

“Daggoo,” Mulder repeats.  “The dog.  Daggoo.  It’s a Moby Dick thing.”

“Call me Ishmael.”  Jackson nods.  “On an insane quest to reclaim your manhood.  I get it.”

“Scully named it,” Mulder says.  “Her dad - your grandfather - he was in the Navy.  It was their thing.  He called her Starbuck.”

“Like the coffee?” Jackson asks.

“Like the first mate in Moby Dick,” Mulder says.  “I take it you never actually read it.”

“Not even the Spark Notes,” Jackson says.  “I’m going to take this little guy outside.”

Mulder nods.  “I’m going to make some cocoa.  It helps me sleep.  I think it’s part of getting old.  You want some?”

“Okay,” Jackson says.  “It’s like eighty degrees outside, but why not.”

“That’s the spirit,” Mulder says.  He turns his back deliberately on Jackson as a sign of trust and gets the milk out of the fridge.  Instead of powdered packets, he reaches for a box of Abuelita and unwraps the tablet.  It clanks into the pan.  He’s learned to let it melt first, so he doesn’t aggravate his shoulder trying to whisk it into submission.  Growing older is ridiculous.  He expected he wouldn’t be able to fling himself after suspects the way he used to when he and Scully met, but he didn’t think making hot chocolate would potentially incapacitate him.  He pours in the milk and puts the carton back in the fridge.  Domestic life is much easier when all parties agree on where things are supposed to be.  At least the milk has never been a struggle.  Depending on how long Jackson stays, it might become one, but that’s a small price to pay for the opportunity to get to know his son.  Their son.  The Van de Kamps’ son.

He’s still whisking when Jackson returns, Daggoo panting beside him.

“If you’ve got any smoking to do,” Mulder says without turning, “keep it on the porch.  It’s been a dry summer.  Nobody wants any fires.”

Jackson unclips Daggoo’s leash.  “Noted.”  He settles into a chair.  Daggoo prances on his hind legs, trying to get into Jackson’s lap, and Jackson scratches behind his ears.  “That’s pretty chill for a professional narc.”

“You’re not in my jurisdiction,” Mulder says, whipping up a froth on the top of the cocoa.  He turns off the burner.  “I save my narc powers for breaking up global conspiracies that threaten all of humanity.”  

“Respect,” says Jackson.  Mulder pours the cocoa from the pan into two mugs and sets one in front of Jackson.  He puts the pan in the sink and runs water into it before he pulls up a chair for himself.   He thinks about telling Jackson that Scully used to smoke, just to shock him, but he’ll save that moment for her.  It would be easy to be overzealous, trying to catch up on all the years he’s missed.  His son isn’t a baby; he’s a young adult, and he’s been on his own.  He has to meet Jackson where he is, on Jackson’s terms, or he’ll probably vanish into the night like a heartbreaking vision.

“It seems like it’s a little late to pull the dad act anyway,” Mulder says.  “Look at you.  All grown up and manipulating minds.”

Jackson shrugs and sips at his cocoa.  He makes a face as it burns his tongue.  “It’s a living.”

“You know you’re going to have a sibling?” Mulder asks.  

“Yeah,” Jackson says.  “Congrats, I guess.”  

“We don’t have to do family stuff,” Mulder says.  He picks up his cocoa.  “You did show up here, though.  My psychology degree was a long time ago, but that seems to suggest you have some kind of interest.”

Jackson sighs.  “It’s not like this is easy, man.”

“I get it,” Mulder says.  “The last time I saw you, you were less than a week old.  I mean, the last time I saw you before your life of crime began.  I don’t have a lot of practice being a dad, and I was a shitty son myself.”  He takes a swallow of cocoa.  “Not that you’re a shitty son.”

“I am, though,” Jackson says.  “My parents are dead.”

“You didn’t kill them,” Mulder says.

“I didn’t save them,” Jackson counters.

“I know how that feels,” Mulder says.  “Believe it or not.”

“I can’t hear you,” Jackson says.  “Not like I can hear her.”

“My dad was shot by my former partner,” Mulder tells him.  “Not Scully.  A rat named Krycek, who was part of the whole global conspiracy that I kept pushing up against.  My mom killed herself.  I never called her back the last time she wanted to talk.  I don’t know if that would have changed anything.  Oh, and I shot my biological father for killing you, or so I thought at the time.  Glad I was wrong.  Also glad I shot him.”

“Fuck, man,” Jackson says, and pauses, as if he’s waiting for Mulder to scold him.  Mulder just gazes levelly at his son, trying to take in every detail.  

“You didn’t kill your parents,” he says. 

“Guess not,” Jackson says.  He wraps his hands around his mug even though it’s warmish in the kitchen.  “You gonna ask me why I’m here?”

“I figured you’d get to that,” Mulder says.

“You gonna wake her up?” Jackson asks.

“She doesn’t need to know you were here if you’re not planning on staying,” Mulder says, looking straight into Jackson’s eyes.  They’re shaped a little like his own.  It’s uncanny, after all those years of clones.

“You protect her,” Jackson says.

“We protect each other,” Mulder corrects.  “Twenty-five years and counting.  It goes both ways.”

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Jackson says.  “There wasn’t anywhere else to go.”

“We’ve got a spare room,” Mulder says.  “You’re always welcome.”

“Even if there’s a warrant out on me?” Jackson asks.

Mulder shrugs.  “I haven’t seen one.  It’s not like those DoD types haven’t come knocking before.”

“I guess,” Jackson says.

“I’m not trying to whip out my credentials here,” Mulder says, “but you ever seen one shot and faked your own death using his corpse?  And that was how far we were willing to go before we had kids.  I’m not gonna let anything happen to you if I can help it.”

“That’s hard core,” Jackson says.  

“You didn’t get it all from your momma,” Mulder says.  “Or your other parents.”

“If I stay, do I have to talk about it?” Jackson asks. 

“The fact we thought you were dead?” Mulder asks.  “Not yet.”

“That’s fair,” Jackson says after a moment.

“She’s going to be so happy to see you,” Mulder says.  “She cries at everything right now, by the way, so don’t take it personally.  I saw her get weepy at a commercial for paper towels the other day.”

“I’ll be happy to see her too,” Jackson says.  “Uh, thanks, I guess.  For not shooting me when I showed up at your house with no notice in the middle of the night, and, uh, picked your lock.”

“A skill every growing boy needs,” Mulder says.  “Trust me, kiddo, I’ve had a lifetime of stuff weirder than you to deal with.”

“That’s probably good,” Jackson says.  “I mean, you’re prepared, right?”

“As prepared as anyone can be for parenthood,” Mulder says with a wink.  He takes a long drink of cocoa.  It really is soothing.  “You ready for bed?  You got stuff?”

Jackson jerks his head toward a ratty backpack in the corner of the kitchen.  “Just that.  I might stay up for a while.  Not really tired.”

“TV remote’s in the basket,” Mulder says.  “Not too loud, okay?  Your mom needs her sleep, with the baby.”

“You sure you haven’t been practicing this dad stuff?” Jackson asks, with a lopsided grin Mulder recognizes.  

Mulder smiles.  “Only in my head,” he says.  He finishes his cocoa and puts his mug in the sink.  “Let me show you your room.”

They cleaned out his old study together, when Scully moved back in.  It’s a lot less cluttered now.  His clippings are in a filing cabinet and his books are on shelves.  There was enough room for a pull-out sofa bed, one of those IKEA creations that looks a little too modern for the space.  It’s pretty comfortable, though, or it was when they stretched out on it in the store.  Mulder pulls out the mattress and take the sheets out of the storage compartment.  He flips out the sheet, nodding to Jackson to take the other edge, and they make up the bed together.  

“Bathroom’s around the corner,” Mulder says.  “Extra pillows on the couch if you need ‘em.”

“Thanks,” Jackson says.      

“You’re welcome,” Mulder says.  “I mean it.  You’re welcome whenever.”  He turns.  “This old man is going back to bed.  See you in the morning.”

“Mulder?” Jackson says, and Mulder looks over his shoulder at him.  He can see the delicacy of Scully’s bone structure in Jackson’s face, and something of her graceful precision in the way Jackson moves.  “You’re not a shitty dad.”

“I’ll try to keep that streak going,” Mulder says.  “Good night, buddy.”

“Good night,” Jackson says.  

[chronicbatfictioner]

A Real Boy - Chapter 10

Mythical beasts are supposed to stay in the mythical realms, according to Jason. Especially since they're really not supposed to exist. Like, it looked like someone pulled out a JK Rowling book and conjure the most obscure and ridiculously named creature there was.

"I'm not sure if I have to be more concerned that you actually knew the name and specifications of that creature, or that the..." Jason paused his grumble to actually roll his eyes, "--Snallygaster actually exists and is flying in front of me right now."

"I'm..." Conner visibly gulped. "I know the answer of your question number one, but number two is... yeah. I'm absolutely concerned. It's solid."

"No shit, Sherlock." Jason snapped. "And it went through Rachel's soul-self as if it was simply a fog and dragging Cassie behind it. Shouldn't you be there and help your girl out? Like, maybe to make that thing hold still?"

Conner looked somewhere between mildly offended and mildly... scared. And if Tim wasn't feeling the latter, he would have snickered.

As it was his first return to San Francisco for the guys' weekly hangout was rudely interrupted when they saw a massive snallygaster flying over the city.

"This is not what you meant by 'wishes came true', is it, Jason?" he had to check.

"Oh, goddess! No! You can't wish for a made-up beast to come to life - let alone one as big as that. This is more of a rabbit-out-of-a-cat kind of magick. Only the rabbit has wings and the hat was probably... large." Jason replied. "Hold on..." with the last warning, he finally heeded to Tim's mental request to go and check what the creature was made of so that Tim could rearrange its molecules.

"I should help Cassie," Conner mumbled and flew to where Cassie was digging her heels - quite literally, to stop said creature from causing any more damage to the city blocks in front of it. Bart was busy removing people from its path, literally and physically. Rachel was busy removing people's memory of them, not the beast, per sé. Because it would be easier for her to visualize the five of them and pluck said images out of people's brain than a creature that was sure to make the evening news. State news.

"Okay," Jason was back by Tim's side. He, fortunately, could make himself invisible to non-magickal people and magickal people alike if he wanted to. "that creature was non-organic. He's made of fiberglass."

Tim cocked an eyebrow at him. "Seriously."

"Yep, would you like to taste a feather?" Jason replied, offering a single, arm-length feather to Tim. Without even touching it, Tim realized that it was, after all, fiberglass. He sighed.

"Bart, I need you back here. Cassie, Conner, can you make that thing stop for one second, please? Two at most." Tim called through their communicator link. "I need Bart to make a controlled tornado to amplify my spell."

"Strength." Jason corrected.

"Bzzz, same difference!" Bart exclaimed, already standing by Tim. "Whirlwind it is, you want it to expand just as it hit him, yes?"

"Working on it, and I'm starting to get pissed at it..." Cassie growled. "Kon, make it like that old Star Wars movie and wrap it low!" she ordered. Conner took her lasso, wrap it around the creature's legs, and gave her a thumb's-up sign. Cassie roared, and her eagle familiar screeched to form a bolt of electricity that Tim was sure could fell a few elephants and five rhinos. Still, considering the creature was the size of a six-storey building, it was... only shocked.

But the shock rendered it standing still for just enough time for Tim to channel his magick through the wind tunnel, small tornado that would amplify said magick by laws of physics.

"I hope Cassie's armor is not fiberglass..." Jason quipped, just as the yellow beam of Tim's magick started to envelop the creature. "What are you turning it to?"

"Dust. What else that's not dangerous to the surrounding area?" Tim snapped his reply. "And Cassie's armor was given by the Greek Gods. I don't think they do fiberglass..." he added as an afterthought, as Bart vacuumed the dust and deposited it into Rachel's soul-self, where it would then be teleported to hell or something; just in case it would morph back to the creature and/or endanger anyone who inhaled it.

"Cassie's armor, thankfully, forged through heart of a dying sun and was made from the hide of the Nemean Lion by Hephaestus. So no, magick can't alter it." Cassie replied as she landed by Tim's side. "Good thing it's a hot day. People would think they're heatstroke-ing."

"Yeah," Tim sighed as Conner and Rachel also landed on the same roof he was standing on. "This... yeah, we need to hold a serious meeting, guys - of what Bruce Wayne had offered me."

"Okay," Cassie started, but Bart cut her off before she could say whatever was on her mind.

"This serious meeting will still be held over pizza, yeah?"

"Bart!" Cassie snapped. But Tim hold up his hand.

"Yeah, yeah... Kon, card." Tim reminded. Conner handed the credit card to Bart, who squealed and zipped off even before anyone could say anything.

"Thank goddess I wasn't assigned to that kid... I'd be very, very tired..." Jason quipped.

"I get tired just looking at him go, and I can actually reach his speed..." Conner remarked. "Anyway! This is about the Bruce Wayne meeting last... what was it? Tuesday? Wednesday?"

"Thursday, actually, Conner. You've known me all these times and still don't remember that I only have Thursday afternoon free from classes..." Tim replied dryly.

"What about Bruce Wayne?" Cassie wanted to know. "Diana is frothing about him and I think she has a crush or something. Which is weird because Wayne is like... dense. Not Diana's type at all."

"Rae, can you get us back to the island, please?" Tim prompted. Rachel just nodded, and a thick black smoke enveloped them all. Tim's mind momentarily wondered and analyzed the difference between Rachel's teleportation smoke and Jason's. Jason's was white, thin, breathable, but singeing the eyes due to its lengthy linger. Rachel's smoke was deep black, thick like fog, cold when breathed in, and dissolved within less than two seconds.

"Don't think of how to replicate this smoke, Timmers, it's hell-related." Jason quipped, tapping his forehead gamely.

"I'm not! I'm..." Tim started, but sighed as the outline of the meeting room - a.k.a. the dining table - in their basecamp started to come to focus. "No, not the smoke. I just wondered if... I can't help wanting to know, you know." he told Jason, and Rachel, who looked at him quizzically.

"You have already decided," Rachel remarked, annoyingly able to read Tim's mind. Well, actually, she literally is able to read minds, only that Tim distinctly remembered that he had specifically asked her not to. As Tim glared back at her as she walked toward the meeting table, she blithely replied, "no, Timothy, I did not read your mind. It was there all over your body language." she paused and turned to look at Tim. "Not everything needed demonic mind-reading abilities."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. I have decided for myself, that is. I'm... I've promised that I'm not going to sell the idea to you guys, but merely presenting it. Because I want you guys to decide on your own." he said. "Bart? You good?"

Bart, still on his commlink and probably about halfway to Nevada, commented. "Yup, I'm going to this amazing pizza place in Vegas and... yeah, you keep talking."

"There's a good pizza place in Vegas?" Jason mouthed, and Conner snickered.

"Okay, while we wait for Bart, why don't you start from the top, Tim. I got the feeling that this has something to do with you," Cassie decided, glaring at Jason.

"Hey!" Jason protested. "Well, kind of. But not entirely. It has more to do with Tim."

Tim sat down at the head of the table, inhaled deeply, and began. "Okay, yes. It did have something to do with Jason. But his part was just the push I needed to do something. It - whatever 'it' is - was started with my mom, apparently.

"As you all knew, my mom died while protecting my dad from this... insane voudou man called Obeah Man. But after my visit to Bruce Wayne's place a few days ago, I found out that my mom was not 'just' - quote-unquote - a hero for saving my dad. She was a hero long before that...

"Her job back then was to collect artifacts that are real and dangerous, and switch the ones in museums with fake ones--"

"--woah... a Real-life Lara Croft!" Bart quipped. The whole team, even Jason, groaned.

"Yeeeah, kind of. Only she's not only getting them for personal collection and stuff. Definitely not my family's personal collection. Instead she would send them to the Justice League via Bruce Wayne; where they would then defuse or destroy the dangerous ones. Wayne's job is to generally investigate those who had used or had been known to have owned or used, or has been looking for a specific artifact. He's assisted by the Oracle--" Tim stopped again as there were sudden screeching and slamming sounds coming through the comm-links. "Bart? You okay?"

"Pizza's fine, guys! So am I. I just lost concentration for a bit and almost cause a pileup!" Bart giggled. There was another collective groan. "Hey! The Oracle! I mean, isn't anyone else stoked at that? The All-Seeing Oracle!" he added excitedly. "Did you get to meet them? Can we go meet Oracle?"

Tim sighed, tried to pick up where he'd left off when something else struck him. "Okay, anyway-- wait, why are you so excited about Oracle? You know something I don't?"

"Just the legends!" Bart replied. "That they had singlehandedly dismantled the King Kobra cult without even being seen, and the King Kobra staff is in their hands even before the cult's priests knew it was missing. That the priests swore up and down that it was as potent as before the last time they'd used it, and it was like, a few days before it went missing and there have been no break-ins and whatnot." he ended the sentence as he appeared right in front of them with two large bags of pizza boxes. "Your card," he handed the card to Tim.

"Okay, wow... I mean, I didn't know about King Kobra or whatever that is..." Tim remarked as a massive slice of pizza was placed right in front of him. "Thanks, Jason. I usually would just wait until they get one before getting myself one."

Jason snorted. "From the pace of it, you'd be lucky if you can still snag the mozzarella remnants from the lid." he quipped.

"Hey! Some of us need a lot of calories, alright?" Bart protested semi-lazily as he practically inhaled his third slice.

"Okay, pizza's here. We've eaten. Tim, continue, please?" Cassie prompted.

"Right. Long story short, Bruce told me that he has had us monitored for a while, and knew that we've been trying to defend the city in our way. He offered to train us, especially in the physical aspects of what we do, so that we can be more effective and maybe would cause less property damage.

"The thing is, this came with Jason's warning that the future would be a lot more dangerous for us, the young ones in particular; and more specifically kids like us who are yet to either manifest their magick, or have manifested but did not have a place to train like we do. His argument is that if we can get like, professionally trained; we can be the fodder between the untrained new magis and the older ones and stuff like that. And if we end up facing something we can't handle on our own, we can call them for assistance." Tim finished the last two sentences in quite a record time that, if they weren't used to Bart's speedy speech-pattern, they might not catch on.

But they did.

"So they want us to be the JL's sidekick." Conner concluded.

"Partners," Tim clarified. Conner scoffed.

"Right. Since when would adults see us as equals?" he retorted. "Anyway, why would we need them? Aside of the possible emergency contact and whatnot? We're good on our own."

"I can't disagree with Conner. I mean, I love Diana and Donna with all my heart, but when it comes to mystics, they could be a hella hypocritical." Cassie agreed. "If I hadn't promised I'd keep everybody in check and focused on keeping the lot of us invisible, they'd have barged in here and like, drag me outta here kicking and screaming, probably."

Tim gritted his teeth quietly. Cassie had a point; in spite of her half-sisters being in teams of their own, they tend to be overbearing when it comes to what they perceived as Cassie's 'safety'. Never mind that she was almost as invulnerable as they are, or almost as strong and controlled. Or that she actually has a mother who could educate her on life in general.

"Rachel? Bart?" He tested.

Bart shrugged, "hey, I'm happy as long as I'm with you guys. So whatever the majority goes, I'm going." he replied. At 13, Bart was still significantly younger than they are, and could end up as a liability if he wasn't being fostered by another speedster, Max Mercury, who has a daughter who was older than they all.

"Rachel?" Tim asked.

"I see that Bruce Wayne is not the daft playboy persona he showed off in public. His mind has so many facets and turns that even I couldn't see - likely blocked off by his daimon. But even with my vote, we would be in a stalemate, Tim." Rachel replied in her soft voice. "How about we mull this through the week, and by next weekend, you can present some compelling argument or evidence why we should join them."

"Alright," Tim sighed and started to take a bite of his slice - two slices now, because Jason apparently got impatient and was kind of concerned at the speed of Bart finishing the pizzas.

"Alright, now we go do fun stuff!" Conner decided.

Jason was quiet, and it took way longer for Tim than necessary to realize that the quiet should have been seen as ominous.

[the-rogue-apostate]

Out of the Darkness - Chapter 6

Sorry for the delay on this chapter, but it’s here now!

Have a screenshot to go with it! 

Anyway, as always, I’ve posted a link to the fic on Ao3 as well in a separate post. But here’s a quick link for you anyway!

No warnings other than the usual apply for this chapter. 

Stay tuned for more screenshots, & please enjoy (under the cut)!

   Chapter 6  

   Kara was safe, at least for the time being.  

   As far as the people of Haven were concerned, she was a hero. It wasn’t something she took lightly, but it just wasn’t sinking in for her. She could still hardly believe any of it was really happening.  

   Varric Tethras, who somehow decided to stick around, felt the same way. She’d met up with him after her encounter with Cassandra and Leliana in the Chantry. He was still friendly as ever, and pretty soon they’d become kindred spirits in the “I can’t believe this shit is real” club.    

   He’d been kind enough to fill her in on a few key things she ought to know; mostly about Cassandra. She could tell immediately that he was intimidated by her, though he covered it with a thin veil of sarcasm. He’d already told her that she was a Seeker of Truth, a secret order that outranked the Templars in the Chantry, and that she’d pretty much been running the show as far as the Inquisition was concerned. He was also kind enough to mention that Kara, believe it or not, had missed much of her “frothing rage” while she was unconscious; she found it hard to believe that Cassandra could have been more frightening.  

   Things had also calmed down considerably since she closed the Breach; though it had only been a temporary fix, it was enough to stall the “end of the world” mindset among the soldiers and villagers. Initially, though, there were still a handful of people who were skeptical about Kara’s involvement. According to Varric, three separate people attempted to kill her while she was unconscious - they had since been removed from the village.  

   He was definitely worried, though, that much Kara could see. He covered it well with his sarcastic quips and jokes about “running at the first opportunity,” but he had the look in his eyes of a man who had seen some truly terrifying things. Someone who’d spent days fighting demons without an end in sight; she knew, because she saw that same look on everyone she’d met that day.    

   The conversation didn’t last very long; she had tons of questions for Varric, mostly about his writing, but felt there was a time and place for such talk. She’d only have an hour of free time before her presence was requested back at the Chantry. Cassandra explained that the advisors to the Inquisition wanted to meet with her, and to discuss the best way to move forward with the situation at hand. After all, the Breach might have been stable, but it was still in the sky. She knew she couldn’t provide much input, only the tool to close it, but she didn’t dare refuse.

~  

   “Does it trouble you?”

   Kara didn’t even realize she’d been contemplating her hand as she and Cassandra walked down the long corridor of the Chantry. When the Seeker’s voice interrupted her reverie, sure enough, the first sight she saw was the green shard in her palm. She sighed.  

   “That would be putting it lightly,” she remarked. “I just wish I knew what this damn thing was, and how it got in my hand.”  

   They stopped a few feet away from the door. Cassandra’s gaze softened slightly.  

   “We will find out,” she assured. “What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You’ve given us time, and Solas believes a second attempt might succeed - provided the mark has more power.”  

   Kara wasn’t sure she liked where Cassandra was headed. What did she mean by “more power?”  

   “The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by.”  

   There it was.  

   “Do you really think that’s wise? I mean, a ridiculous amount of power had to be used in order to open the Breach? Do we really want to risk making things worse?”  

   Cassandra chuckled slightly. “And people call me a pessimist. Come, we will discuss this further.”  

   The best word Kara could use to describe her reaction to Cassandra’s response - underwhelmed.  

   Kara immediately recognized two of the three advisors as she and Cassandra entered the room. There was Leliana, of course, who had been there seemingly from the beginning. The Commander, whose name Kara didn’t yet know, who they’d encountered on their way to the Breach. And finally, a third woman, who wore her hair in a perfectly braided bun and donned a yellow and purple silk dress; out of the five of them, she definitely looked the most out of place.  

   “You’ve met Commander Cullen Rutherford, leader of the Inquisition’s forces,” Cassandra began, motioning to the man across the table.  

   Kara made eye contact with him, and he smiled politely.  

   “It was only for a moment on the field. I’m pleased you survived,” he told her.  

   She simply responded with a small smile and a nod, holding his gaze a little longer before returning to Cassandra.    

   “This is Lady Josephine Montilyet,” she continued, referring to the well-dressed woman. “Our ambassador and chief diplomat.”  

   Josephine nodded. “I’ve heard much. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”  

   Her accent indicated to Kara that she was Antivan, making her seem that    much more out of place.    

   “And of course, you know Sister Leliana.”  

   For what was likely the first time, Leliana flashed her a small smile before replying.  

   “My position here involves a degree of-”  

   “She is our spymaster,” Cassandra said bluntly.  

   Leliana’s gaze narrowed a bit. “Yes...tactfully put, Cassandra.”  

   The timing of the moment was almost humorous, but Kara knew it wasn’t the time for snickering. She simply nodded once more.  

   “It’s good to meet you all,” she told them.  

   “I mentioned that your mark needs more power to close the Breach for good,” Cassandra continued.  

   “Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help,” Leliana declared matter-of-factly.

   Kara blinked at the suggestion. Was this woman serious? She didn’t think it was a bad idea, exactly...but were they really considering asking the rebel mages for help? She could never imagine the mages agreeing to such a thing, especially with the Inquisition technically originating from the Chantry. Not to mention their constant struggle of evading the Templars; even before Kara left Redcliffe, the Templars had been close to bearing down on the village…  

   “And I still disagree. The Templars could serve just as well.”  

   This suggestion had come, rather sharply, from Commander Cullen. Surprisingly, though, no one else in the room seemed to be like minded.    

   Cassandra sighed before saying, “We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark-”  

   “-might destroy us all,” he countered. “Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so-”  

   “Pure speculation,” Leliana cut in.  

   “I was a Templar. I know what they’re capable of.”  

   On instinct, Kara took a small step back from the table, hoping the others didn’t notice. She was admittedly caught off guard having learned the Commander was a Templar. For obvious reasons, she’d spent her entire life avoiding them, and never thought to find herself in the same room with one by choice. Still, he did say was, and it wasn’t the time to dwell on such things; and as far as she knew, everyone was savvy to the fact that she was a mage, anyway.    

   As far as the Breach solution was considered, as much as she hated to admit it…  

   “I think the Commander might have a point,” she found herself telling them. “The power that most likely caused the Breach had to be some sort of magic. Using more magic to try and fix it might just make it worse.”  

   There was a tense silence in the room. Commander Cullen nodded upon her response, while Cassandra and Leliana’s expressions couldn’t quite be read. Thankfully, Josephine chimed in.  

   “Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet,” she explained, gesturing to Kara with her quill. “The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition - and you, specifically.”

   Once more, Kara had to hold back a snicker, though she wasn’t nearly as amused. Normally, she could care less about the Chantry, but having them specifically “denounce” her meant they were calling attention to her - she couldn’t think of anything worse.  

   “That didn’t take long,” Kara commented plainly. “Glad to know that they still think I’m guilty.”  

   “Shouldn’t they be busy arguing over who’s going to become Divine?” Cullen joked, almost bitterly.    

   “That is not the entirety of it any longer,” Josephine told her. “Some are calling you - a mage - the ‘Herald of Andraste.’ - and that frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you.”  

   “Chancellor Roderick’s doing, no doubt,” Cassandra realized angrily.  

   Josephine made another comment, but it was drowned out by a loud whooshing sound in Kara’s ears. Or perhaps it was manifested by her mind, considering she was convinced that it had stopped working. For she couldn’t possibly have heard the ambassador correctly just a moment prior.    

   “I’m sorry, I-I need to stop you for a moment,” Kara cut in, turning to Josephine. “Did you just say I’m being called the ‘Herald...of Andraste?’  

   “That is correct,” she replied politely.  

   Kara glanced between the four of them briefly, and scoffed before asking:  

   “How exactly am I the Herald of Andraste???” She could tell that she sounded manic, but she didn’t care.  

   “People saw what you did at the temple. How you stopped the Breach from growing,” Cassandra explained. “They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you...they believe that was Andraste.”  

   Oh is that all?  

   “Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading-” Leliana added, before being cut off by Cassandra once more.

   “-which we have not.”  

   Leliana shot her a pointed look before continuing. “The point is everyone is talking about you.”  

   “It’s quite the title, isn’t it?” Cullen pointed out, seemingly amused. “How do you feel about that?”

   Kara felt it would be inappropriate to scream at that moment, so she attempted to calm herself internally before replying.  

   “Well...it’s...a little unsettling, to put it lightly,” she told him calmly.  

   He snickered. “I’m sure the Chantry would agree.”  

   Kara didn’t know much about the Commander, save that he used to be a Templar. Ordinarily, that sort of fact would shape her opinion of him indefinitely, but she couldn’t help but appreciate his sense of humor when it came to the Chantry.    

   “People are desperate for a sign of hope,” Leliana continued. “For some, you’re that sign.”  

   “And to others, a symbol of everything that’s gone wrong,” Josephine added.  

   Kara was beginning to panic. She was more well-known than she thought; there was no way that could end well. For her...or for the Inquisition, from what they were telling her.  

   “Is my presence here going to cause any...serious issues?” she asked.  

   “Well let’s be honest - they would have censured us no matter what,” Cullen told her, almost reassuringly.  

   “And you not being here isn’t an option,” Cassandra declared.  

   “There is something you can do, if you wish to help further,” Leliana chimed in. “A Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable.”  

   Kara was more than willing to help the cause, but she didn’t see how being thrown to the sharks would be in any way helpful. Despite Leliana’s confidence, this was one request Kara had to question.  

   “Why would someone from the Chantry help a declared heretic?”    

   “I understand she is a reasonable sort,” she explained. “Perhaps she does not agree with her sisters?”  

   It was rare, but there were a select few individuals in the Chantry who weren’t completely brainwashed by the organization. And to now have a woman who wanted to simply speak with her rather than bring the wrath of the Maker down upon her was somewhat encouraging.  

   “Fair enough. Where can I find this Mother Giselle?”    

   “You will find her tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe,” Leliana told her.  

   “At the Crossroads, I’m guessing?”  

   “That is correct.”  

   Kara nodded; she knew the area all too well. She’d visited the Crossroads a few times in the last few months, and assisted the refugees whenever she could. She very well could have spoken to this Mother Giselle and not even realized it; there were many who flocked there to help those caught up in the war.  

   “Look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition’s influence while you’re there,” Cullen suggested.  

   “We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you’re better suited than anyone to recruit them,” Josephine added.  

   Kara held back a groan as she thought of the prospect of being the “face of the Inquisition,” gathering supporters everywhere she went. She was more than willing to help the cause, in addition to remaining to close the Breach, but she was never one to rally people together. It came with the territory of keeping to herself...it had always been better that way.  

   And then, as if reading her mind once more, Cassandra spoke up.  

   “In the meantime, let’s think of other options,” she told them. “I won’t leave this all to the Herald.”  

   She was really starting to like this woman.  

~  

   Before the meeting was adjourned, Leliana explained her plan for advancing on the Hinterlands. The area was wild and dangerous to begin with, but with the Mage-Templar war, it was worse than ever. Rogue mages and Templars hunted each other on a daily basis, and neither side gave a care to who was caught in the middle. The Crossroads had become something of a refuge for the civilian casualties, in addition to those who didn’t want to take sides in the conflict. She sent word to her scouts in the area and advised them to eliminate as many rogues in the area as possible. Hopefully it would allow them enough time to get Mother Giselle out of the area alive…  

   In the meantime, however, Kara was about ready to lose her mind. As she exited the Chantry, the phrase “Herald of Andraste” kept repeating in her mind. She could barely comprehend the implications of such a title. Surely, the people who came up with it couldn’t have understood, because there was no possible way that Kara was delivered unto the people of Thedas by the Holy Andraste herself.  

   “Good talk?”  

   Kara jumped as Varric suddenly appeared before her. She’d been so lost in thought as she made her way back through Haven that she didn’t even notice his approach. She looked down at him as he cocked an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by her bewildered expression. Honestly, she didn’t feel she had to say more than four words for him to understand her mood.  

   “‘The Herald of Andraste?’”  

   “Ah,” he said, raising his head slightly. “Yeah, after a few of the townsfolk tried and failed to kill you in your sleep, the title started floating around. I didn’t think it would catch on, myself, but there are a lot more believers out there than I thought. I would’ve warned you sooner, but I couldn’t think of anything better to say than ‘Oh by the way, everyone’s been calling you the Herald of Andraste.’ Not the best thing to spring on someone out of the blue, in my opinion.”  

   Fair enough, she thought.  

   “Well, here’s hoping I can live up to that title...which I won’t.”  

   Varric smirked empathetically. “I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet. I mean, the fact that you survived that explosion at all is pretty amazing in my book.”  

   Kara looked up at the Breach, contemplating it for a moment. A sudden wave of sadness overtook her, and she hoped it didn’t show.  

   “It is...isn’t it?” she muttered. “The only survivor...it’s hard not to feel guilty after something like that, despite how incredible it was.”  

   She looked back to him and saw him staring at the ground thoughtfully. Fearing she was making him uncomfortable, she quickly followed up with:  

   “I can’t focus on that now, though, I know. I’ll just do as much good with the time I now have.”  

   Varric reached up and patted her on the arm. “That’s a good attitude to have; the kind we all need to have. There are a lot of people in the Inquisition willing to take up arms against this disaster, which is what we need, but this…”  

   He turned away from Kara and stared up at the Breach a moment.  

   “You know, heroes are everywhere...I’ve seen that. But the hole in the sky...that’s beyond heroes. We’re going to need a miracle.”  

   Kara was taken aback by his words, mostly because he was exactly right. This wasn’t a job for just anyone with a sword willing to put their life on the line. This really did need a miracle... and somehow, she knew, people were expecting her to be the miracle. All because of the mark in her hand…  

   “You may be right about that,” she told him. “I just ho- oof!”  

   Her sentence was cut off as a sharp pain suddenly ripped through her stomach. She doubled over slightly as she hugged her abdomen with one arm.   

   “Whoa, hey, you all right there?” Varric asked, clearly concerned as he rested a hand on her back.  

   Kara didn’t know how to respond. The pain was intense, but odd, almost like… 

   Oh…  

   “I think I’m fine, Varric,” she told him, straightening up. “I think my body just realized that it hasn’t eaten in a week.”  

   Varric breathed a sigh of relief, then chuckled.  

   “Don’t worry, I think I know how we can fix that.”

[guccixstyless]

Ever Since Shanghai (Pt. 6)

*that dimple right over there is my home*

A/N’s: Here’s the final part of this mini-series, I didn’t want to drag it more so I rushed into few things, hope you like this. Also requests are open, have a nice day! xx

Word Count: 2.28k words

Pairing : Harry Styles X Reader

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4   Part 5

***************************

“This is my first time so I might fall Harry,” you chuckled.

“I got ya!” Harry said smiling.

Horseback riding sounded fun when he said, but as soon as you guys came here you became nervous, it looked scary.

“Sam, we will both go on one horse first then,” Harry said to the instructor.

Y/N climbed first and Harry climbed after.

“Okay Harry and Y/N,” he said before instructing, “balance is more important than grip so focus on that.” 

The instructor continued to teach us and then after several attempts he let us ride the horse on our own. 

“You trust me right?” Harry whispered.

“Ye-yeah,” you said nervously, not nervous about the fact you were riding the horse but nervous about the fact that Harry was so close to you, you can feel his breath when he spoke.

It was fun nonetheless and you got to experience this for the first time so that was exciting.

.

You guys decided to visit this small restaurant for lunch and the food was great, you were just eating dessert and joking around now.

“No way!” Harry laughed loudly slapping his knees.

“No, I’m serious,” you chuckled.

“You really thought she was pregnant when she wasn’t,” Harry shook his head in disbelieve.

“Harry, I was nine! I didn’t even realize what I said wrong, but now in every family dinner my cousin reminds me that,” you said shaking your head.

“Oh Y/N, you’re something,” Harry said suddenly looking at me fondly, then he quickly cleared his throat, “uh we shall head back to the hotel now yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Harry held the car’s door open for you in the backseat before climbing to sit next to you.

“Take us to the hotel please,” Harry requested the chauffeur.

...

The rest of days of your stay in New Zealand was amazing, the crew were now in Japan. It was already your second day here. Max came here too to visit Cindy, as he was missing her so much.

“The sushi’s are so great here,” Harry said smiling widely.

“Yeah they are!” You smiled happily.

Harry intertwined your hands and began moving them back and froth in a playful manner, it was a friendly gesture and he began doing that a lot these past two days.

You decided to hangout at your and Cindy’s room today so you were on your way there after you two had a trip to eat sushi just down the road. 

As you reached the room, you entered to see Cindy and Max there cuddling.

“Max, hey! Cindy!!” You asked smiling.

“Hey guys!” they replied waving at us.

“Guys, Max mentioned there’s a cool club just round a five minute drive from here, fancy going there?” 

“Um, what kinda club?” Harry asked, no matter how much he wanted to go everywhere, he had some restrictions and he hated it.

“It’s a VIP one, I spoke to Jeff and he said it’s good for you to go,” Max assured him.

“That’s great, man!” Harry cheered.

“So tonight then,” Cindy said excitedly.

........

After you and Cindy got ready you guys went to the lobby where the boys were waiting for you two.

“You look gorgeous babe,” Max said to Cindy before kissing her.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she winked.

“Oh Harry, looks like me and you are the third and fourth-wheels tonight,” you chuckled.

“I mean you guys can pretend to be each other’s date,” Cindy said and you wanted to punch her, she knew you still had feelings for him, she was teasing you.

“Now don’t make things awkward for them,”  Max laughed.

...

The club was really cool, you guys were quickly ushered into VIP section without any problem.

“You guys are allowed to drink?” Harry asked us three.

“Yeah man, thankfully this club allows people above eighteen years,” Max said confidently.

“I feel like a baby-sitter,” Harry shook his head.

“We only have few years age gap, doesn’t even matter!” Cindy said.

“Yeah, age is just a number, maturity is the real choice,” you said chuckling.

“Hey, I believe that too,” Harry chuckled.

“You guys are made for each other,” Cindy said jokingly winking, but you knew she wasn’t joking, you wanted kill her.

“Who knows,” Harry smirked.

“Okay here are your drinks, let’s have some fun tonight!” Max cheered.

“Y/N! Let’s dance,” Cindy said dragging you on the floor.

Harry and Max stood in the bar and saw the two girls dancing.

“You like her,” Max spoke knowingly.

Harry felt his palm get sweaty, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about mate.”

“You know what I’m talking about Harry,” Max rolled his eyes, “I’ve noticed the two of you interact since the two days I got here.

“Well, we are best friends so we’re bound to get along,” Harry said hoping Max would just drop the topic.

“Whatever you say rockstar,” Max said patting Harry’s shoulder.

Harry saw you dancing and despite the dim light he couldn’t help but admire you. The way your hair was flowing, the way you were smiling widely. Everything about you was so endearing in his eyes.

Harry shook his head, he shouldn’t be thinking about you like that, he already got Camille, who he likes. 

But does he? 

He can’t help but compare his times with Camille with his times with Y/N, with Y/N he feels more like himself, he feels they share a bond, their sense of humor gets along so much. 

Camille and he hardly knows anything about each other. Their relationship is just sleeping together, making out and lots of cuddles. He took her on a date just a handful times and she was always on her phone when Harry wanted a conversation. With Y/N, Harry can talk about anything and everything. 

He spent many sleepless nights thinking about this since he felt more attached to Y/N. But right now, he just continued drinking.

“Woah mate slow down,” Max said, he too sounded half-drunk, Harry didn’t care all this thinking and comparing is hurting his head so he kept drinking.

He looked at the dancing floor and saw a guy getting too close to Y/N, by the looks of it, he was sure Y/N wasn’t paying attention she was just dancing with Cindy. 

He felt rage run through his veins when he watched the guy putting his hands on her waist. He quickly went to the dance floor stumbling a bit on his way.

“Leave. Her. Alone.” Harry spat each words and the guy scoffed.

“Who even are you? Don’t bother us,” 

You turned around and saw Harry’s angry demeanor, you felt shivers, he looked so angry, “Harry, it’s okay, let’s leave,” you said gently before getting out of the dance floor.

“I-I just want to get home,” Harry said shaking his head.

“Alright,” Y/N said not even forcing him to stay, another thing he loved about her. Not forcing him into something he was uncomfortable with.

“Cindy, Max, you guys can stay, me and Harry are going back, we’ll take a taxi, y’all will get wasted so I’m leaving the car with you,” Y/N chuckled, Cindy nodded, still holding Harry’s hand Y/N exited the club.

“I’m sorry for ruining your night, I was just looking out for you,” Harry said as he drunkenly stood, you both were waiting for a taxi.

“Hey, I understand, you didn’t ruin it, thank you for looking out for me,” you said smiling and just then your phone dinged indicating a new text.

You opened the phone to see Jason texted, you smiled at the phone before sending him a quick text back.

“Who is it?” Harry asked.

“Jason,” you replied, your full attention on your phone.

“Why do you like him anyway? You guys just text, you didn’t even go on a date,” Harry scoffed.

“Excuse me?” You asked offended.

“Yeah I just said the truth,” Harry said holding annoyed expression

“Well, he will take me on date after I go back home, for your information,” you said annoyed.

“You’re too gullible to think that, what if he’s just passing time huh?” Harry questioned.

“No, no he wouldn’t do that,” you said hesitantly.

“Oh but he would,” Harry said, yup he was clearly drunk.

“Harry, stop it-,” you began.

The next thing you know, his lips are on yours. His lips felt so soft that for a moment you forgot everything and kissed him back. The kiss was so intense you forgot about the reality, it just felt you and Harry were the only thing that mattered.

He broke the kiss and smiled tiredly, “I thought about kissing you so much, even with Camille I thought about you.”

That’s when you realized how wrong it was.

“No, no no no! Harry, you can’t just kiss me!” you yelled.

“You kissed me back too!” Harry slurred.

It’s no use talking to him right now, you hoped he will forget about it the next morning.

You finally got a taxi and when you reached at the hotel, you made sure he got into his bed, you also placed some advils and some water on his nightstand, knowing he will have one hell of a headache in the morning. You then made your way towards your room.

That night you couldn’t sleep, you felt so sick. How can you kiss him back?

Cindy didn’t come to the hotel room, so you figured she was staying at Max’s room.

You got up early and ordered a coffee, you drank it and still couldn’t shake of the feeling of Harry’s lips on you.

Oh god, why did it become so complicated?

You debated to skip breakfast, you didn’t want to face him so you stayed inside.

...........

Harry on the other hand, woke up with a bad hungover. But, he remembered yesterday’s incident clearly. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he thought to himself, but the worst thing was he wasn’t concerned about his relationship with Camille possibly ending, he was more concerned about his friendship with Y/N.

He quickly took advil and water from his nightstand table, he knew Y/N placed them there last night. Bloody hell, she was too good for him, he just hopes she doesn’t push him away.

Despite the headache he went towards your room, he knew you too well to know you won’t got to the dining hall for breakfast, you wanted to avoid him.

........

You heard knocking at your door, you thought it was Cindy but when you opened it you were greeted by those stunning pair of green eyes.

You let him inside and turned around, “do you remember anything from last night?”

He nodded.

“That kiss didn’t mean anything alright? Let’s-let’s just pretend it never happened,” you said messaging your forehead.

Little did you know those words was like a knife in his heart.

“A kiss always means something.” Harry said gently, sounding hurt, “even if it is fueled by the influence of alcohol.”

‘Harry, you’re dating someone, you can’t just kiss me,” you argued.

“But, tell me, did you feel something too?” Harry asked completely avoiding your statetment.

“It doesn’t matter-”

“Tell me!” 

“Harry..”

“Do you have feelings for me too? More than as a friend?” He asked.

“Please, just drop the topic-”

“BLOODY ANSWER ME!” Harry yelled.

That caught you off guard, he never yelled.

“YES! I HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOU OKAY?” I yelled back, tears streaming down my face.

He quickly closed the gap between us and kissed me.

“Harry, stop, please,” I begged him weakly.

“I will break up with her,” he sniffled, “I only have feelings for you.”

“No Harry, what if you aren’t sure? You love her don’t you?” You said placing your hand under his face.

“No, I thought I liked her but now I realize how wrong I thought, she never gave me butterflies like you give me, you know” He said kissing my nose.

You smiled sadly.

“She-she never made me feel the electricity I felt when I kissed you, I felt so sober when I was drunk, my love,” he said closing his eyes.

“I think I was with her because I didn’t want to feel alone you know? This tour already felt empty without all my four best mates so I didn’t want to feel more alone,” he admitted.

“Hey, she was with you though,” you mumbled sadly.

“That’s the thing, she wasn’t, I just felt a physical attraction with her, no feelings were truly involved, but with you I feel whole, with you I feel like everything in life makes sense,” Harry said kissing your knuckles.

You felt your stomach flutter with butterflies, the things he was saying brought tears to your eyes.

“I want to kiss you so much right now, but I can’t while you’re still with her,” you admitted.

He took your hand and went to his room, he closed the door behind and before you could ask what’s happening he called Camille.

That’s when you realized he was calling to break up with her, you felt bad for her. She didn’t deserve this.

After a good twenty minutes Harry hung up the phone smiling widely.

“Why are you smiling? You just broke her heart!” You exclaimed.

“Actually she understood and said she also felt the spark between us fade away,” he shrugged.

“She didn’t cry?” You asked confused.

“No, told ya there were no feelings involved,” he said before sitting next to me on couch.

“Weird, Hollywood relationships blows my mind,” you said still shook about what just happened.

“Now, when will you talk about us?” Harry said tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I love you,”  you whispered.

He smiled widely before pressing his lips on you, “I love you too, so much.” 

“Show me then.”

And boy did he show you how much you meant to him 

[aotimagines]

Heya!! Your scenario with Reiner returning to Liberio was one of the most beautiful I've ever read!! I've wanted to request something like that for a while, and the last chapter (97) left me devastated, so I'd like to ask for a scenario where Reiner's fem s/o is aware of his suicidal urges and tries her best to comfort him and to be there for him... If it's too uncomfortable to write it's okay, just skip this ask!

Aw, anon, I’m seriously blushing. Thank-you so much for saying such nice things! I...got really carried away with this. Like 1.1k words carried away for something that was supposed to be a short little blurb. Anyways, this can be considered a sequel to this piece, but it can be read as a stand-alone piece as well. Massive trigger-warning as this involves the scene from chapter 97 as well as massive spoiler warning for those who don’t read the manga. With all of that out of the way, I hope you enjoy! 

It was unusual for Reiner to skip out on meeting youafter breakfast.

Now that he was here, home and alive and safe inside of Liberio’s city walls, thetwo of you were always seen side-by-side whether it be running errands togetheror taking a leisurely stroll. No one knew when the beckoning call of war woulddisturb this thinly-veiled sham that the Marley officials called peace but, for now, all you wanted to dowas savor the time that you had been granted with your boyfriend.

If you could find him through the sea of people wanderingaround the market, that is.

After receiving a tip that Reiner might have been holedup in one of the offices that held war information and weapons (you’d have tothank Pieck for the heads up, later), you clutched your satchel tighter to yourchest and made way through the streets. Occasionally, you’d smile at citizensthat passed you by, echoing hollow good-morningsand ­nice weather today, right justto seem amicable. While you might harbor a secret resentment for all the trialsand tribulations the Marley government put Reiner and everyone else through,the people in Liberio were mostly innocent. The only crime that they’d have totheir names is cowardice—a trait that you understood well.

“Reiner?” you called once you entered the trainingfacility, eyes darting around for any signs or traces of your boyfriend. Giventhat it was still early in the morning, you were unsurprised to see the lack ofpeople skulking about. Humming beneath your breath, you stopped in front of thedoor that led into the office area Reiner often used for study and, more timesthan he would admit, alone time. You didn’t knock before entering and maybethat didn’t matter. Somehow, you doubted it would have spared you from thesight of Reiner—your beloved, tough, dependableboyfriend—with the barrel of a gun shoved in the back of his throat.

The both of you froze—him from disdain and frustrationand you from fear and complete disbelief. You felt numb; too confused to cry,and too furious at him to comprehend anything else besides marching over to himonce he removed the gun from his mouth, snatching the rifle by the end, andthrowing it to the floor without a single care about scruff marks or damage.

It fell to the floor with a noisy clattering, yet thesound was fleeting. Chest heaving, you stared down at Reiner, eyes glassy andnarrowed while awaiting some sort ofexplanation for the sight you had just witnessed. When nothing came, you surgedforward and gripped his shoulders, nails biting into his skin through hisshirt, leaving behind faint crescent-shaped marks.

“What the hell were you thinking? How could you do something like that to me? To yourmother—to Gabi and Falco?” you demanded, your vice-like hold on his shouldersonly tightening. If Reiner felt any pain, his face didn’t show it. Rather, hesat there quietly while you screamed at him, silently taking in everything thatran incessantly through your mind.

Silence trickled back into the room, save for yourlabored breathing. Your throat was rubbed raw, vocal chords spent, yet yourefused to back down until he gave you an answer. You were his girlfriend, for God’s sake! If he couldn’ttalk to you, then who could he turnto?

Head bowed, your eyes flickered to the window directlybehind his head. “Were you going to do it?” When your question received noanswer, you dipped your head down, fury frothing back to life inside the pit ofyour stomach as you asked again, this time with more bite to your tone, “Reiner,were you going to do it? Answer me,damn it!”

“No,” he croaked and the crumbly, cracked foundation ofthe walls he had spent so much time piecing together began to dismantle rightbefore you. His golden eyes reflected the hopelessness he felt but hereiterated one more time, “But not because I didn’t want to. I’m too much of acoward to go through with it, even after I tried to change. I still have thingsI have to do.”

The anger that had been bubbling inside of you quelled athis distraught answer as sadness curled around your heart. “Why didn’t you say something?” Had Reiner not beenpaying close attention, your words would have been lost due to how quietly youspoke. You slid your hands from his shoulders up to his face, holding hischeeks in order to peer down into those golden eyes you had come to love andadore, repeating, “Why didn’t you let me know how you were feeling? If youcouldn’t talk to me, then why didn’t you talk to your mom? If—if this is aboutyour titan powers, Pieck and Porco could—”

“It’s about Paradis,” Reiner swiftly interjected, “andeverything else. All of it. It’s too much and I feel it slowly crushing me. Ican barely keep my head above the surface but you and the rest of the kids; Ican’t leave you just yet.”

Tears freely rolled down your face, but you concealedthem by tugging Reiner closer, his face buried in your stomach while your armswrapped around his shoulders. “I know something’s been bothering you since yougot back, Reiner. Please, just talk to me. I promise I’ll listen.”

With a heaving sigh, Reiner slowly confessed everythinghe had been through since he received the Armored Titan’s powers. Fromdiscovering his father and learning the truth all the way to what trulyhappened during the fight in Shiganshina; he didn’t leave a detail out. True toyour word, you were silent throughout the whole thing, clearly unsure of whatto say or how to even relate.

“You think I’m some sort of heretic now.”

“No,” you protested, peeling Reiner back from your holdin order to meet his watery stare. “I don’t think that at all. I think you’resomeone who has had the weight of the world on their shoulders and—and got toolost in a mission that was too unfair to ask of a child. I don’t blame you forbeing attached to them or feeling guilty over losing Marcel, but none of that is your fault. We’ll keepthis between us…as long as you promise to come to me when you’re feeling likethis. I don’t want to lose you.”

Reiner didn’t have the heart to tell you that,eventually, you will lose him due tothe inheritance ceremony. Instead, he bit down on his tongue, curled his armsaround your waist, and leaned his forehead back into your stomach. “How did Iget so damn lucky?” he questioned incredulously, earning a soft chuckle from youas he stroked his hair.

“Dunno. Guess you hit the jackpot because I’m here forthe long-haul. I’m not going anywhere, Reiner—I promise.”

There were a lot of things Reiner Braun didn’t believe inanymore, but the promise you made him? That was the one thing he could put hisblind faith in.