#i’ll take it in my tender hands and heal it back to life

[aboutnavi]

next chapter’s note is absolutely making me giggle like a teenage girl🎀

[little-diable]

Let me take care of you - Kylo Ren (smut)

A small drabble written for @the-tales-of-ren - I hope you enjoy this lovie! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Kylo is scared to touch reader after her surgery, yet she won't let go of him, begging to feel him close

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), just soft pwp

Pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader (1.1k words)

The soft glow of ambient lighting cast a warm and gentle ambience in Kylo and (y/n)'s shared chambers. In the aftermath of her surgery, the room seemed to cocoon them in a haven of tranquillity. The grandeur of dark, obsidian walls was softened by delicate tapestries that hung like echoes of a distant past, and the air was thick with a serene calm.

Kylo found himself entrapped in the fragility of the moment. (Y/n) lay on the dark, expensive bedding, the sterile scent of the medical bay replaced by the subtle fragrance of flowers that Kylo had brought to bring life into the room. Each delicate petal seemed to capture the soft glow of the room, a reflection of Kylo's attempt to infuse a touch of solace into the shadows that lingered.

He was a stranger to the emotions flushing through him, all too used to pushing away the smallest ounces of fear, of worries, but ever since she had been forced to part for him, just for a few hours, he had been held hostage by this deadly mixture of emotions.  He watched her, his intense gaze softened by an unfamiliar vulnerability. The stark contrast of his dark attire against the tender atmosphere only emphasized the transformation he underwent in the confines of their shared space.

"How are you feeling, love?” His whispers left (y/n) smiling, reaching her hand out to pull Kylo closer, though miserably failing. Ever since she had returned from the medical bay he had kept his distance, close enough to tend to her every need, yet far away to not hurt her. 

“Kylo,” she sighed his name, fingers not daring to let go of his big ones. “Stop acting as if I’m some fragile thing you could hurt. I want you to hold me, please.” 

Kylo sat down on the bed, next to her, his gaze never leaving her face. In the silence that enveloped them, he reached out to cup her cheek, the touch surprisingly gentle. His eyes, pools of intensity, softened into a rare display of tenderness.

"I've never allowed myself to care for someone as deeply as I care for you," he admitted his voice a low rumble that resonated with sincerity. "Your well-being will always be my priority, and I don’t ever want to be the reason for your pain."

(Y/n) felt her heart swelling at his words, struggling to sit up, yet determined to do so. He watched her with dark eyes, lips marked by the cuts his teeth had left, a nervous trait he’d never be able to shake. A soft kiss was pressed to his lips, momentarily making Kylo forget his every worry, pulled closer into her trap with just a simple touch.

But the kiss was anything but simple, it oozed with tension so strong, Kylo feared he’d snap any moment, once again claiming the one he hadn’t touched in days. (Y/n)’s moans seemed to tell him everything he needed to know, unable to hold onto his determination, watching it pour down the drain of neverending emotions. 

Carefully Kylo pressed her back down onto the mattress, lips kissing their way down to her breasts. His eyes found the scar on her chest, eyebrows furrowed as he momentarily gave into his wandering thoughts, thoughts (y/n) managed to pull him out of with a soft, impatient moan of his name. 

“I can’t have you, at least not now. But I’ll take care of you, my pretty pet.” (Y/n)’s chest rose and fell all too quickly, not caring about the slight uncomfortableness her scars made her feel, not fully healed just yet. All she could focus on was the feeling of Kylo pushing the big shirt of his she wore up to her hips, pulling her panties down her legs within seconds. 

She barely got any time to breathe, eyes fluttering close the second his warm mouth came in touch with her needy cunt, licking her arousal-covered folds. (Y/n)’s moans reverberated through the bedroom, silently thanking whoever had designed their room for the soundproof walls, allowing them to be as loud as they wanted to. 

“Oh, stars, right there.” Her words left Kylo smirking against her folds, sucking on her pulsing bundle of nerves as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, curling them against the spot that always left her gasping. Kylo could only hum against her skin, high on the taste of her, the sweetest taste he’d never forget about, longing for it whenever they parted for more than a few hours. She was his everything, the one he needed with every rise of a new day, the one he’d turn to when the walls began to close in on him. She was his all, his eternity. 

Kylo ate her out with a certain kind of pleasure, finding enjoyment in her mewls, her gasps, and her moans, the sounds sending sparks straight down his spine and right to his aching cock. He’d have to take care of his desperation later on, not daring to fuck her while she was still healing, very well knowing that he’d be unable to control himself the second her walls flutter around him. 

With his eyes set on her pleasure-drunken features, Kylo watched her creep closer and closer to her release. He was determined, and wanted to see and hear her fall apart, all because of him. His thumb found her pulsing bundle, momentarily pulling his mouth away to inhale a few deep breaths. 

“I’m so close, fuck, Ky’, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.” His fingers fucked her ruthlessly, fast enough to push her close to the brink of passing out, though not wanting to slip from his grasp just yet. Kylo added more speed to his movements, pushing down harder on her clit to give her the last needed push, coaxing a high-pitched moan from her.

His fingers kept fucking her through her high, sending her a sweet smile as (y/n) slowly opened her eyes. Only as he felt her relax did Kylo dare to pull away, moving up her body to press a slow, loving kiss to her warm lips.

“I can’t wait for you to be off bedrest, I don’t know how much longer I can go without stuffing you full with my cock.” 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey! Hope you’re having a nice day/night!

Can I request Bi-Han, Kuai Liang and Tomas with a healer!reader? Reader is like a witch/ sorceress  who specializes in healing magic while have a soft and gentle personality.

Thanks!

Tomas Vrbada

‘There we go little buddy, your paw is all better now. Just promise me that you’ll be a little more careful next time okay?’ You whispered as you finished up healing the injured paw of a tabby cat you came across when making a trip up to visit Tomas at the Shirai Ryu. You couldn’t bring yourself to just walk past and ignore the pained cries of the cat, so you immediately dropped everything to aid the poor thing back to full health as best as you could.

The orange tabby cat mewls it’s thanks as it then pushed it’s head into your hand as you were scratching it’s chin, closing it’s eyes and purring deeply in content and bringing a warm smile to your face, before boating off down the way you were heading, brushing past Tomas’ pant leg in the process. Your smile widened upon seeing the him as you quickly hauled yourself off the ground, dusting yourself down of dust and dirt before addressing the man who was smiling at you fondly.

‘How long have you been watching me?’ You asked softly.

‘Long enough to see you contemplating in bringing home a stray cat.’ Tomas teased upon seeing your flustered face.

If there was one thing Tomas adored most about you was your kindness and your willingness to help others in need. It was actually one of the many things that had drew him to you, along with how soft and gentle you were when tending to his wounds upon your first meeting. Needless to say from that day onwards you were constantly on Tomas’ mind.

‘I wasn’t going to…’ you murmured under your breath, distracting yourself from staring at his handsome face by fiddling with your fingers. ‘I came here to visit you but if I’m going to get teased like this then I’ll just leave.’ You huffed but Tomas was quick to step into view with a wide smile on his face as his hand reached for one of your own to hold, before beginning to pull you along with him towards the direction of the Shirai Ryu. ‘No need to make rash decisions now sweetheart.’ Tomas said, feeling beyond ecstatic in getting the opportunity to spend the rest of his day with you after a less then desired morning.

Your presence made him feel as though everything was alright and Tomas knew that he would be an utter fool to not take advantage of getting to coo at the inherent cuteness of a pair of blue jays cuddling up to one another, whilst doing exactly the same thing. Being within your company healed Tomas’ soul and he couldn’t help but be thankful for you entering his life, for it was a gift he wasn’t going to throw away anytime soon.

Kuai Liang

‘It’s only a scratch my beloved, nothing you should waste your efforts on.’ Kuai Liang tried to reason with you as you healed the last of his wounds from his previous mission. Thankfully it wasn’t anything too serious, just a couple of gashes and several small cuts and bruises littering his face, however that didn’t change the fact that you never liked when Kuai Liang came home with any form of injury. You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. ‘Well there not your decision to make Kuai Liang. You were hurt and I just so happen to have the ability to heal you of your hurt, so let me use my magic for it’s intended purpose.’ You rebutted.

‘I understand that sweetheart.’ Kuai Liang utters as he holds your hands within his own, thumbs stroking the inside of your wrists. ‘And I’m not trying to change that in anyway, it’s just that I don’t want you wasting energy on low scale injuries.’ Kuai Liang’s tender smile then became a frown as he continued to speak. ‘Whilst it’s admirable that you want to treat every possible injury. I just fear that there will be the day where you’re forced to make a harsh decision that you aren’t ready to make just yet.’

You smiled at Kuai Liang’s concern as you rest your forehead against his. ‘I’m aware of the fact that I can’t heal everyone, at least not yet.’ Your face sobered up upon a particular memory. ‘I have faced moments in my life where I’ve had my hand forced to making the hard call on who could and couldn’t be saved because of my limitations. It breaks my heart knowing I can’t heal everyone, I’ve heard it all before from everyone about how my dream is unrealistic.’

Kuai Liang tightened his grip on your hands reassuringly. ‘How do you power through all that grief and scrutiny my heart?’ He asked, genuinely wanted to know how such a sweet and gentle soul like yours could remain that way despite everything you’ve witnessed. You only smiled before shrugging. ‘I strive to become the impossible and learn from my shortcomings. I will try to heal everyone and if that fails then I’ll heal those to make up for the ones that I couldn’t.’

Kuai Liang couldn’t help but find your reasonings admirable and felt pride at the fact that despite everything you’ve seen and done, you were still blessed with your harmonious soul, your golden heart and healing hands. It truly was a testament to your strength, love and durability and Kuai Liang knew that you were destined to becoming the impossible, and so he’ll help in anyway he knows how because if there was anyone who could do it. It was you and Kuai Liang firmly believed that.

Bi-Han

‘Bi-Han, you’re hurt.’ We’re the first words the left your mouth upon seeing him outside your door, clutching at his side that was obviously the biggest cause of his discomfort. ‘Why aren’t you getting examined by the medics,’ you began to question. ‘Why come here when you’re obviously in great pain?’ Your eyes followed after him as he only offered a grunt in response before bypassing you and entering the room, heading towards the bed where he struggled to find a more comfortable way to sit down that didn’t agitate the wound.

‘Enough with the questions.’ Bi-Han growled through gritted teeth, his eyes clenched shut as he tried to block out the pain.

‘At least tell me why you didn’t go for a proper medical examination?’ You pleaded as you made your way to his side, immediately starting to examine the severity of his wound, but from what you can determine so far was that the wound wasn’t that deep; however it was still enough of an problem to cause issues with performing basic level tasks. ‘You have possibly the best of the medics within their field down there and yet you come here instead and force me to watch you writhe in pain?’

‘Does it even matter if I happen to put more trust in you to heal me then those medics you happen to speak so highly of.’ Bi-Han stated, taking you off guard with his sudden appraisal.

‘You trust me?’ You asked, meekly gesturing to yourself.

‘Yes, why do you think that every time i get injured I always happen to come here.’ Bi-Han said, staring at you as you recalled the moments where Bi-Han would come to your room with a new injury for almost every mission he went on. It was so obvious to recognised the pattern now compared to back then, but none of that mattered as you reminded yourself of the fact that Bi-Han was very much lying on your bed in pain.

You put on a professional front as you helped put Bi-Han into a more comfortable position. ‘Alright, now let’s see what we’re working with here.’ You said to yourself, fuelled by your need to meet to prove to Bi-Han that he was right to place his truth within you. Meanwhile Bi-Han in question could only watch you work your magic -no pun intended- with a neutral expression but within his dark eyes, besides flickers of pain, was a sense of pride. Bi-Han knew he was right to have trusted you long ago with nursing his wounds and even though he wouldn’t verbally admit it, he felt safer within your care and knew that if he showed an ounce of emotion unbecoming of a Grandmaster; you would never view him any differently nor speak of it to anyone outside of this room, which was probably the main reason why he entrusted you to heal him.

Trust was something Bi-Han didn’t give out willingly and neither did he just to just anyone. So to be blessed with the knowledge that Bi-Han trusted you to help him in his most vulnerable state, there was no need for any further clarification for Bi-Han often spoke his loudest through his actions. So when you finally finished healing him, all he did was give you a silent look of recognition of your efforts, before reaching out for your hands to then press two separate kisses to the palms of your hands of where your magic lies within to show his appreciation for your gift.

‘It was nothing.’ You’d then say, still not use to having so much of his undivided attention.

‘It’s more than nothing.’ Bi-Han said, ‘you deserve every ounce of recognition for what you do. It’s a gift, don’t waste it.’ He concluded before leaving your room.

[fantasyandromancelover]

Charlie heals Alastor (Part 2)

Alastor’s fall causes everyone to briefly stop fighting and look on in shock. The V’s and the followers take advantage of the distraction to overpower Charlie and her friends, destroying their weapons and using chains to hold them down.

Vox then grabs a weakened Alastor by his antlers and jerks him up, next he orders Valentino to bring Charlie over to them.

Vox: (Hisses in Alastor’s ear) You’ll spend eternity alone and unloved.

Valentino: (Hisses in Charlie’s ear) Unloved.

Vox: Just like me.

Both then force the radio demon and the princess of hell to look at each other. Alastor’s smile is completely gone. He’s seemingly broken beyond repair.Tears well up in Charlie’s eyes as she sees the passion for life slowly fade from his eyes.

Afterward Vox slams Alastor on the ground as hard as he can and prepares to end his existence with an exorcist’s weapon. Alastor doesn’t resist. He’s too overcome with the belief that in the end he will be alone, abandoned, and forgotten. He accepts his fate, deciding that he’s better off obliterated.

Charlie: No!

Before Vox can stab Alastor, Charlie head butts Valentino in the jaw and claws at Vox once she’s free. Vox responds by slamming her on to the ground, right next to Alastor.

Vox: I’ll say this, you’ve got a lot of spirit for a dumb bitch. I’ll give you five seconds to say goodbye to the old timey prick, before I cancel him permanently.

Charlie turns to Alastor.

Charlie: Alastor, I’m sorry. I can’t give up on my people. But I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.

Alastor: How can I believe you? How can I believe you’d stay just for the likes of me? No one would.

Charlie: You’re wrong. I would, and I…(She pauses) I have something to give you. Something I hope will make you believe me.

Vox jerks her up and gives her a suspicious look. Her hand is in a fist as if to imply she’s holding something.

Charlie: It’s just an osculum.

Vox: A what?

Charlie: An osculum. It’s like a lucky charm.

Vox smirks at her mockingly.

Vox: How like a girl!

Everyone save for Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Niffty, and Cherri laugh at her.

Vox: By all means princess, give Alastor your precious osculum.

Charlie hovers over Alastor and leans down close to his ear, to whisper something to him softly.

Charlie: This belongs to you and always will.

She opens up her hand, Alastor looks down to find that there’s nothing for him to accept from her. Charlie then places her hand on his cheek and brings her lips down to his. She gives him a long and tender kiss. Alastor’s eyes go wide with amazement and he momentarily freezes, but then his eyes fall close and he responds to the kiss in kind.

Everyone including Vox and the V’s are dumbstruck at this display. None of them ever imaging that something like this could ever be possible.

Niffty: (Teasingly) Ooooo…

Angel: That was no lucky charm.

Vaggie: (Smiles) You dope, osculum is Latin for kiss.

Suddenly Alastor’s smile slowly returns to his face, but it’s different now. It’s warmer and softer. His face starts to turn pink.

Husk and Niffty look at each other, knowing exactly what’s about to happen and grab Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, and Cherri, pulling them along as they duck and cover.

Husk: Brace yourselves everybody.

Vox: For what?

That’s when Alastor lets loose a fit of laughter, producing fireworks of joy that send his enemies running for the hills. He is revived and now fighting back with ease and a lovesick smile on his face.

[gardensofthemoon]

for the ask game... 4 (where it hurts) + chengxian ✨✨🫶🏻🙏🏼

4 - where it hurts. prompt list here

Wei Wuxian brushes his fingers through Jiang Cheng’s hair. Shijie had painstakingly washed away the blood and grime—the basin water turned a foul shade of rust—matting his hair, then combed the knots until the strands were soft like spun silk, crying quietly as Jiang Cheng teetered on the line between life and death.

“Jiang Cheng,” he whispers in Jiang Cheng’s hair. “Wake up. I can’t stand to see you waste away.”Gathers him closer, nestles Jiang Cheng’s head in the crook of his neck. He’s wan, weak. Breakable.

Since Wen Ning brought him back, Jiang Cheng has been barely awake or deep in slumber, while Wei Wuxian despairs. The deep-rooted fear that Jiang Cheng will not open his eyes again, that Jiang Cheng will die and leave Wei Wuxian all alone, again, strangles the breath out of him.

“Stop smothering me.” Jiang Cheng’s voice rattles through his teeth, hoarse with disuse. “I can’t breathe.”

“Ah, Jiang Cheng!” He smiles, but it must be a trembling thing. His heartbeat is thudding in his chest, pumping with relief. Finally. “A-Cheng, I’m here, I’m here.”

Jiang Cheng coughs. Dark shadows spread under his eyes, and the elegant angles of his face have become sharp, hollowing out his cheeks, pulling on his skin.

“What good is it that you’re here.” Jiang Cheng doesn’t meet his eyes. “You shouldn’t have saved me. Look at me, a pitiful wreck. How can I avenge my parents now?”

His lashes are wet, caught in clumps. Jiang Cheng shifts and pushes Wei Wuxian away with a pained groan, falling back onto the pillows propped on the headboard. The movement jostles his inner robe open, and Wei Wuxian’s stomach drops at the deep red gashes cutting across Jiang Cheng’s chest, still tender from the whip.

He’s been whipped, Wen Ning had said. Jiang Cheng has been whipped. His chest is a field of wounds that can never heal.

Wei Wuxian looks down. A strange shiver prickles through his chest, fever-hot and tooth-sharp, and he thinks he might cry. His heart feels ripe, like it’s going to grow out of his body, splitting his ribcage.

He loves Jiang Cheng so much.

He crouches on the edge of the bed. “I’ll help you with these,” he says, and presses a chaste kiss on Jiang Cheng’s wrist. Feels his pulse speeding up.

For a moment, he cannot breathe. His mouth rests on Jiang Cheng’s hand, a makeshift anchor.

“It hurts.” Jiang Cheng’s voice is barely a whisper. It slices through Wei Wuxian’s heart like a well-oiled blade.

Without a word, he leans in and kisses Jiang Cheng’s chest, kisses the unbroken skin above his heart, minding the tender flesh. Wei Wuxian’s devotion, laid bare. Jiang Cheng has to know he’d do anything for him. A few teardrops fall down his cheeks; he hides his face away, peppering Jiang Cheng’s skin with light kisses. “You’ll be alright. This shixiong will take care of you.”

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

The Foundations of Decay (My Chemical Romance)

The guiltiness is yours/You must fix your heart/And you must build an altar where it swells/When the storm decays/And the sky it rains/Let it flood, let it flood, let it wash away/And as we stumble through our last crusade

And if by his own hand his spirit flies/take his body as a relic to be canonised/and so he gets to die a saint /while she will always be the whore

Let our bodies lay where our hearts will stay/Let our blood on vacation, you'll find God in pain/And if by his own hand his spirit flies/Take his body as a relic to be canonized/And so he gets to die a saint but she will always be the whore

"Every single lyric is so fucking powerful. the instrumentals hit every time. it’s such a powerful and moving and motivational song like yeah, everything is fucked up and ruined and will never be the same again. but keep moving. get up (coward). fix your heart. god it’s so good."

Aside from being MCRs return song after 10 years. There's so much pain, and rage, and just deeply felt emotion. When I saw them live, screaming GET UP COWARD at the end is the single loudest sound I have ever made in my life."

"It's just... a spiritual feeling that washes over me whenever I listen to this song. I feel like I die and am reborn thousands of times throughout its six minute duration. The lyrics are poetry. A battle between giving up and letting the decay take over you or overcoming it and getting up no matter the consequences. But it's not like a gym song to work out to. It's a battle song to make it though the dark cave that is depression and suicidal thoughts and trauma. It's a song that brings you back from the dead."

Soap (The Oh Hellos)

I’ve heard if I werе tougher/Then maybe I’d makе it alive/I got a tender side/I’ll need a harder shell to survive/But if seeing is believing/I don’t know I’ve seen a thing grow/Without an open coat/Not without a softness showing

"GRRRR I don't know if I can adequately explain how unwell this song, and the whole EP, makes me. I was stuck between submitting this, or Theseus (from the same EP), and I think they both deserve it but god. Soap. I think that you’re worth keeping around / I think you’re worth holding onto. healing is a process that takes time and it's gonna hurt and be awful and painful and you're gonna want to hide away from it. take your heart out of the stone prison you've built up around it. let it see the sun. and it will hurt. but there are people who love you and want you to heal. we're in this together now let's go get some therapy 🤝"

The Foundations of Decay submitted by @themagnusalchemists + others

[campbyler]

helllooo!!

i hope you’re all doing well!

just gon leave my overall thoughts on this spectacular, insane, gut wrenchingly beautiful chapter:

- first, thea your writing has me rocking back and forth insanely while sobbing with taylor swift on loud speaker in the background. it’s just. ugh. it’s so. you’re so talented <3

- michael. inhalers should be put in your silly little fanny pack at all times. just shove your snacks into your pockets if you’re that desperate

- lucas is always right.

- hopper knows

- i keep re-reading the asthma attack scene (beforehand) and i have no idea why will was crying - feel like i’ve missed smth but it really showed that mike does, in fact, — no matter how hard he tries to deny this — care about will and i think that perfectly sets their relationship into the ground if yk what i mean?

- will flinches a lot and this will probably be brought up again?? i think it aligns with his dad, lonnie, as in “follow the sparks (i’ll drive)” (which may i say is BEAUTIFULLY written by suni) it’s shown that will has a fear of cars driving past a certain limit - even though mike was driving somewhere around 85 (i forget now but i’m trying) because of lonnie. feel like this’ll be brought up again.

- “Like – what might Will do, if Mike were to kiss somewhere that wasn’t his lips? If he didn’t give Will a clean break; if he were messy about it when he pulled his mouth away from Will’s, if he trailed his kisses along Will’s skin instead? Would Will like it, if Mike used his mouth to trace along the length of his jaw, down to his neck, working his way into that nook of space behind Will’s ear? Would he get mad, Mike muses, if Mike bit into his skin where his neck meets his shoulder, or would he be okay with a bite like that? Would he push Mike away, or would his breath hitch, would his fingers tighten in Mike’s hair, would he bring his other hand up to cradle Mike’s head, too? Would he also have the thought that not all the marks they leave on each other have to hurt – that not all of them need bandaids to heal, that some of them can be smoothed over with a kiss instead? Will’s breath hitches, and all ten of his fingers are knotted into Mike’s hair, and Mike kisses the spot he’s sunk his teeth into so swiftly . . . Mike wonders if he’s gotten carried away, if he got so engrossed in whether or not he could do something, he hadn’t stopped to consider whether or not he should. He brushes another kiss against Will’s skin, apologetic and cautious, and then another – further up, back by his ear, right at the curve of his jaw.” okay, i LOVE the way you’ve characterised mike here. the fact that he’s an over thinker, he over thinks how will is feeling, he over thinks if he’s doing the right thing and overall is being tender with affection as he, quote-unquote, “doesn’t hate will — and that’s all he’s willing to admit”. gotcha buddy…

- “i like your bucket” i had a cheeky giggle

- “Mike thinks he would very much like to hate Will – he thinks his life might be a lot easier if he did. But he doesn’t, and that’s as much as he’s willing to admit.” excuse me. ex—fucking—scuse me?? evil. evil for that ending. you know. you know what you’re doing. and it’s painful >:(

- last, but oh ho-ho not the least. i kid you not when will kissed mike i had to pause. take a large, over exaggerated step back. blink. blink again. look around. then, re-read the first sentence. and scream.

no but seriously, this chapter was absolutely beautiful. again, thea, your writing is amazing and it’s so refreshing to read.

furthermore, please don’t feel like you have to get a chapter done by a dead line if there is something that causes a slower pace! take all the time you need! <3

HELLO!!! WE ARE DOING GREAT!!!!! i am Sat for this ask ty for leaving all your thoughts!! let me try to respond point by point:

SHSH HH . SHH. HSHHHHHSHHSHHSH . why would you say that. WHY WOULD YU SAY THAT!!!!!!! now iiii am rocking back and forth insanely while sobbing with taylor swift on loud speaker in the background!!!!!!!!!

he is more frequently hungry than he is having an asthma attack!!!!!!! he's a growing boy!!!!! let him live!!!!!!!!!

lucas IS always right.

hopper probably definitely knows.

it's not super obvious in the narrative because mike has an asthma attack before he can bring it up LOL but since i'm not sure if it gets addressed in ch05, as the Author, i will confirm: will is a frustrated crier! he is frustrated at himself for the circumstances they've found themselves in and because max and justin are both rightfully mad at him so he is assuming Everyone hates him. he didn't get the same pep talk from max that mike got from lucas so he's just in his feels a little bit! he's good tho fr :)

No Comment At This Time

we ummm. we all love writing mike as an overthinker because that's just #true so the kiss scene was fun bc it was like. mike's actions were being carried out through his thoughts and it was a neat little trick to balance as a writer :')

i personally actually fr say "any questions? comments? concerns? complaints? compliments?" to my team in shift meetings so that was fun to bring in here and it was a nice moment to diffuse the tension LOL

mwhaha and hehe and hoohoo and so on and so forth

thank you so much for your kind words and leniency with the chapter going up!! i am sure that it Will happen again so to have the reassurance of everyone's patience has been so nice :') <3

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Choice - Chapter 9

Summary: You talk ... a little too much

A/N: Hello lovelies,

Hope everyone is enjoying Monday.

I know many are going through a hard time right now, whether that be economical, mental, physical even spiritual hardships, please know you are all loved and appreciated. Reach out to one another, take care of one another, and help one another heal.

If anyone ever needs a listening ear, or someone to vent to, please know I am here. Take care of yourselves and know you matter.

Love oo

Warnings: mentions of firsts, tenderness, anxiety (if you squint), unspoken feelings, confusion, decisions, I think that's it, if I miss anything please let me know.

AO3 Link   |   OS & MS Master List |   Main Master List  

Previous -> Next

You closed your eyes letting out a long sigh, as you resigned to his persistence, “Fine, I’ll tell you.” You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat at the table holding each other’s hand. What you did know, was that he never let go the entire time you told him about how you first met Luke, how you two grew to know each other, how you experienced many firsts with him, how you eventually fell in love with him, and how you made the decision to walk away, after he pushed you away.

He simply nodded as he listened carefully, only asking a question here or there. 

You both sat in silence, as his thumb stroked your knuckle, “Can I ask you something?” 

The chances of you being up for answering his questions were slim to none, but he needed to know. For his own sanity, he needed to know. 

“You know me, I’m an open book.” You laugh, knowing he doesn’t believe you at all. 

The answer to the question was going to cause him pain in some way, shape or form, but he needed to know.

“Do …” he cleared his throat, “Do you still love him?”

Silence filled the table between you as you thought of the answer.

“Truthfully, I don’t know. For a long time, I thought I was over him, I thought I pushed the pain and my feelings all aside. But when I saw him again …” you nibbled on your bottom lip as you thought about your answer, letting out a deep exhale, “I don’t know.” 

You wondered if this was your chance to explain to Din, that you had started to have feelings for him. You saw him as more than just a friend. He was family. He was … oh, he was so much more. 

“If he came here and told you he wanted you to leave with him, would you go?”

Din’s question pulled you back from your insane thoughts; and truly, that was the crux of the situation you were currently in. The very thought that had been running around your mind since Luke walked out on you again. When he first walked away from you there were days, weeks, months even when you thought you’d run back into his arms the moment he came for you. But now … now the situation was different, complicated. It was complicated for a number of reasons, one being Grogu. The other being Din. You didn’t want to leave them, but then again if Luke showed up, is that truly how you’d react?

“I don’t know.” You run your hand over your face as the question’s weight is felt on your chest, “I just … I mean maybe if I didn’t have Grogu or you in my life …” before you could even realized what you said, the words came flying out of your mouth. “I mean …” you needed to back-peddle what was just uttered, Din showed no sign of a reaction, so he may not have realized what you meant, “I mean you know, Grogu is like a son to me, and you … well you’re … you’re …” your words failed as you looked in his visor, this was your chance but now when it mattered the words stopped, “I mean you guys are family. So … you know …”

Din didn’t move, he didn’t flinch, he simply locked eyes with you. 

“No. I don’t know.” He felt his heart beat quicken, his palms were getting sweaty, “I mean even if we’re family and Grogu is like a son to you, why would that stop you?” Din’s heart began to whisper thoughts of hope and longing at hearing you stumble over your words.

“Well you know … we … I mean … there’s you, right?” 

Din nodded, remaining silent and as still as possible, not wanting to frighten the confession you hoped you would make.

“And there’s me?” You continued.

Again he nodded in bated breath. 

“And then …” you tried to finish, tried to find the words, “and then there’s Grogu, so … well I mean …”

You slumped your head into your hands, trying to hide from the embarrassment that was quickly rising.

“Cyar’ika,” Din reached over, pulling your hands down so he could look into your beautiful eyes, “what are you trying to say?”

You let out a frustrated sigh, as your free hand ran through your hair, “What I’m trying to say Din is …” you wanted to finish that sentence, to finish what you had started. 

“What are you trying to say?”

“I mean … you’re … like there’s me and there’s you …”

“Right, and Grogu”

“Right… and… and Grogu. So there’s me, you and Grogu and … What I’m trying to say is that … well … I guess … what I feel … what has been pressing on my heart to say is …”

Just before you could actually say what was on your heart, Din reached over taking your hand in his. Stroking the back of your hand, like he’d done so many times before but this time was different. The way he leaned in, the way his visor focused on you. The soothing movement of his thumb. The air stilled as the tension grew between the two of you. 

“I think I may know what you’re trying to say, cyar’ika. But I need to make sure, that I’m not wrong. Please. Please tell me what you’re trying to say?”

You leaned forward, intertwining our fingers, as you smiled at Din. A man who was a stranger, only a few years back, and now here you were about to say the words that had been pressing on your heart for so long, you were finally ready to utter them. 

“What I’m trying to say is …”

Before you could finish, the door chimed, pulling our attention. You looked back at Din, wanting to finish what you were going to say, whoever it was at the door could wait.”

“What I was trying to say…”

The door chimed again.

You rolled your eyes, determined now, “What I wanted to …”

This time the person at the door was pounding against the metal door. Both of you let out a breath of frustration, as you glared at the door, you were so close to saying what you wanted to say, so close to telling him how you felt.

Din used his thumb and forefinger to guide your chin back, so you were looking at him, although you couldn’t see it, you heard his smirk as he said, “It’s okay, cyar’ika” Din squeezed your hand, “we can continue this later.” 

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[lauranthalasah]

Because I'm still a bit drunk I'll keep going... Orym... ah Orym. I've been thinking a lot about this idea going around about him not asking for help when he is hurt, and to what it has been attributed, I had my ideas about it and after that chat between him and FCG, and Orym going "who helps the helpers" I think I might have been right.

See, my idea was that he doesn't ask for help because he never needed to. He fought all his life alongside his family, his husband, his father, his sister, they all would keep track of each other, and then take care of each other if they were hurt, his other sister and his mother in law for sure would take care of their injuries. He never had to ask for help, to be taken care of, because there were always people who did it without him asking, the same way he does it now, he takes care of people without them asking, if he sees there is a need he'll try to cover for it.

I noticed, at the beginning of C3, how he would subtly call attention over his status without directly asking to be healed, and soon Dorian was right there trying to keep him healthy, I think to some extent Fearne has picked on it too, I think that is one of the reasons why she didn't want to be away from Orym. See, I believe that noticing a need without being verbalized became a love language for Orym, people caring enough that they will keep track, they will help, they will offer to heal, and to assist.

I also think that bit by bit, by taking care of the others, by being tender to them, the hugs, and the piggy backs, and the poignant chats, and the revealing chats, and the "I offer him a hand" after being hurt by them, he is making the Bell's Hells care for him in the way the Blades cared for him, and I think Ashton reaching back it's a proof of that.

[babyraptor]

it took me nearly 20 years of fandom before i dove headfirst into Trigun fan fiction, and now that i’m in, there’s no resurfacing. so now, just in case anyone is interested, i would like to share some of my favorites. listed in alphabetical order.

i’ll be updating my list every so often. (and if you really want to know, i’m secondofjune on AO3.)

A Bit of a Tight Spot

A Brief Respite

Absolution

A Fool From Any Direction

a haven for restless angels of mercy

a kind heart to haunt

About fears and reassurances

all that i wish i could say

all variety of vows

A Man Called Agony

And Every Breath We Drew Was ‘Hallelujah’

and how i idolize the empty highs

and we’re gonna sing it again

and your prayers (they’re not fables)

An Exchange of Words

a phantom’s reverence

Asymmetry

a tide of tender mercies

Ascension Day

At the mercy of the universe

At the Top of the World

At Vacant Hours

A Whisper in Darkness

babe, i’m gonna leave you

Balance

Bare Hands, Holding Onto the Wire

Bedside Manner

Belly of the Whale

Benediction

between your scars and mine

bittersweet

Black is the Color

Bloodstained Devotion

Bluebells

broken boy, how does it feel?

Bulletproof

But Like A Refugee

but tonight belongs to me

By His Hands

Can’t take my eyes off you Carrot & Stick

Changing Luck

chemical haze

Child of Blessing

Closed and Healing

Closer

Cold Comfort

Come Back Home

Complimentary

could we please pretend

Couldn’t Be the Booze

Daily Special

dance in our catastrophe

darlin’, it finds a way to live in you

Daughter of Eve

dead man talking

Desecration is But a Form of Worship

did you get enough love (my little dove)

Dinner for Two

Dirty Thoughts

disarm you with a smile

Don’t need a gun to blow your mind

don’t stop if I fall and don’t look back

dream a little dream

Dreaming Saint’s Sonata

dress me in red and throw your roses

Duality

Episode 25: Live Through

Equinox

every me, every you

Exodus 23:24

Eyes of the Storm

Facets

Fairytale of December

Falling forward, back into orbit

Feel Good

Figure Me Out

Fine, Great

Fire on the Mountain

fool in the moon

for a sinner like me

For Good

for reasons wretched and divine

for where else could i go? who else could i love but you?

From the Past or the Future? Your Guess Is As Good As Mine

gentle thievery

get me outta my head

Ghosts of the Byway

god like sunshine, girl like rain

gravedigger, gravedigger

Gung-Ho Guns Ver. 1.0

Gunpowder Nights

Hallefuckinglujah

Heartbeat

heavens away

Hell, I’m Dead Anyway

hold my body down

Holding My Breath

Honeymoon

Hunger

Hurricane

I Believe in the Kingdom Come

i can see a lot of life in you

i can see it in his eyes

Idle Hands (The Devil’s Playground)

I just can’t wait for love to destroy us

IN EXCELSIS DEO

In heaven, lost my taste for hell

Inseparable

Insomnia

Interjacence

inter paradisum et infernum

In the Bloom of a Creosote

in the dark and out of harm

i promised i’d give this a go

i shot cupid (needle and thread)

It’s Open Season on Blue Moons

I’d wanna burn whole (to be someone’s spark)

I’ve seen all the demons that you’ve got

Joan of Arc

Just a Hobby

Just for Tonight

Just Listen to the Rhythm of the Heart

Keep your bliss, there’s nothing wrong with this

kiss me, son of god

la petite mort

Lay It On Me and I’ll Be There to Catch You

lay us down

lead-fill the hole in me

Left Hand

Life on Gunsmoke

Little Pieces of the Nothing That Fall

love and its decisive pain (sunlight)

maman

mashed potatoes

More Than You’ll Ever Know

Minefield

Mysterious Ways

Need

Night Vision

nobody said it was easy

No Idle Threat

Not For My Behalf

Not in the Job Description

not to me, not if it’s you

oh lazarus, how did your debts get paid

One Day Closer to Death

Only Human

Only Over You

Open Me Up

our bodies fit together

Past the Mission

Personal Jesus

Pieces

playing cards with the elephant in the room

Playing House

Pollinate him, please!

Praying to the Wrong God

Pretending

raise a glass to the turnings of the season

Reign of Lovin’

Roots

rough edges

Sandstorm Blues

say it’s such a fault

say your name, forever

Scratch Your Surface

Season of the Witch

Secondhand Secrets

Self-Inflicted

Skin Deep

Sleepless Without You

Smoke & Soulmates

so i’ll sing to the grave

So It Goes

Someday Out of the Blue

someone to last your whole life

something eluding you, sunshine?

something I can’t know ’til now

Something of a Departure

Something to Live For

sorry about the blood in your mouth, i wish it were mine

Stargazers, New and Old

stop me if you’ve heard this all before

Strange Powers

Strawberries & Cigarettes

stretched out for miles and miles

sucker love

sweet dreams of otherness

take a knife and cut through the darkness

take my breaking heart (and tear it all apart)

taste my misfit love

Tension

terrors don’t prey on innocent victims

that constant sting that we call love

The barrel of the gun

The Edge of Knowing

The Evening and the Morning and the Night

The Lighthouse

The Loneliness of the Long Distance Traveller

The Only Nice Thing That Follows

The Quick and the Bed

there are certain things you ask of me (and there are certain things i lack)

there’s something about you

The sand in your eyes was made of dreams

the ship’s inhabitants

the truth hurts worse

The wolf and the lamb

thirty pieces of silver

this could be home

this could be the end of everything

This is how we multiply

this road we are on

Thorns of Memory

Those were the days

time and tide, through the wall

Time Out

to have a body is to be a horror show

Tomorrows

touch me like nobody else does (lovely)

Touch

Trillium and Ivy

trust me to take you home

Trust

Tuesday’s Gone

two from the bottom of the bin

Untouchable

Up Front

Vashwood O’Ween

Visible Scars

water supply

Waiting at that shallow grave

Where Wild Roses Grow

Why Your Current Relationship is Not Sustainable

Wildflowers

wild horses couldn’t drag me away

will we ever grow a proper set of panic

will you welcome your extinction

Within Us An Orchard

Wolfwood’s Guide to Confession

Worth Something

yet broken still you breathe

You Are Red, Violent Red

you can run away with me anytime you want

you know you had it coming, my friend

you put me on and said I was your favorite

you stop the noise

you think history is repeated, you keep on pushing me away

you’ll leave me lonely at best

you’re a canary (i’m a coal mine)

you’re gonna be the one left standing

[thana-topsy]

@incorrectskyrimquotes I have actually written Neloth getting fucking decked in the jaw and it was incredibly satisfying:

[From chapter 5 of "Breathing Water"]

“Thus is the folly of love.”

“Folly?” Teldryn huffed before mumbling, “I should have figured as much."

“The most unstable of all emotions,” Neloth continued, beginning to take off the heavier aspects of his robes and light armor. “Wars have been waged in the name of ‘love’. Poor idiots, like our camp’s previous owner, have wasted away in the name of ‘love’, and to what end?”

“I, for one, am not about to stand in the freezing north of Skyrim and argue with you upon the merits of love.” Teldryn knelt to rummage through his pack.

“Oh, I know you’ve been a victim of it. Your melancholy is thicker than a guar’s hide, and far less useful, might I add.”

“What would you know of it?” Teldryn shot back, hackles raised, and Neloth couldn’t help but smile to himself. The mask was beginning to crack.

“Tell me, did she leave you for someone else? Or did she find your fame to be too much?”

“Don’t,” Teldryn growled in warning.

“How pathetic would it be to find out that, all this time, the great Nerevarine, savior of Morrowind, was camping out in a filthy little bar in Raven Rock because some trollop broke his heart.”

“She was murdered!” Teldryn yelled, his voice echoing off the icy cliffs to the south. “Is that what you want to hear?” He’d gotten to his feet, shoulders heaving with each ragged breath. “You want me to talk about it, yeah? That’s what you’ve wanted this whole time. You want to hear about how my pregnant wife was murdered? Cut down by assassins who were sent for me ? How a life I could have had was ripped–” His voice cracked and he coughed, looking away, fists clenched at his sides.

Neloth pursed his lips, eyes narrowing. “And over two-hundred years later you’re still wallowing in self-pity?” He scoffed. “Like I said. Pathetic.”

Teldryn moved so quickly that Neloth barely had time to register what had happened until the ground was rushing up to meet him, the hard chitin of Teldryn’s bracer imprinted across his jaw.

“And what do you know of loss!?” Teldryn was standing over him, fists still clenched. Neloth attempted to sit up when another burst of pain exploded across his temple as Teldryn punched him again, harder this time, grabbing and twisting Neloth’s scarf in the other hand. “What do you know of suffering!?”

Neloth’s mouth flooded with iron, and he spit onto the ground, a shock of red across the white snow. He smiled cruelly up at Teldryn. “I know that it’s a weakness that can be exploited.” He spat again. “Just as I’m doing now.” He expected it this time, dodging the next blow and using the momentum to pull Teldryn to the ground as he scrambled to get up, already gathering magicka into his palms. He let out a grunt as one of Teldryn’s knees collided with his stomach and sent him sprawling once again; his spell charges faltered and dropped away. Another fist to his face, this time the other side. Teldryn rolled to straddle him, scarf dislodged and hanging loosely around his neck. He balled the front of Neloth’s robes into his fists.

Teldryn shook as he spoke. “You don’t feel anything, do you!?” His voice had a hysterical edge, and Neloth thought, distantly, that perhaps he’d pushed too far. “I doubt you’ve ever loved anyone as much as you love yourself, and, from what I can tell, you hate yourself!” Teldryn dropped him, pushing to stand and Neloth groaned, rubbing his tender jaw as Teldryn continued. “You can’t experience anything other than selfish need, and you want everyone to be as miserable as you.” He spat on the ground near Neloth’s head before turning away, stooping to grab his pack.

“What are you doing?” Neloth cast healing on himself.

“I’m fucking leaving,” Teldryn snapped. “I’ll walk back to Windhelm if I bloody have to. Get on a boat. Row back to Solstheim. Leave you here to rot like I should have to begin with.”

-------

Would you believe me if I told you I get them to kiss later in this story?

[gaslightgallows]

The Inevitable ‘Good Omens 2 is Eating My Brain’ Prompt List

It's been a hot second since I did one of these things but I am again Unwell over this show and need to write out my feelings. My ask box is open: send me a prompt (or prompts) from the list below and a character/pairing from the show and I’ll do my damnedest/blessedness to write you a scrumptious little fic.

I need something bigger than the sky.

If you don't find me, you'll find the things. You'll touch what my hand touches.

As long as you stay here, you can always think: One day I will go home.

I feel myself coming unstitched from the world. I can’t seem to make myself adjust.

And what do all great words come to in the end, but that? I love you - I am at rest with you - I have come home.

Neither of them chased the other and yet each was surrounded by the other.

There is something big coming. Bigger than love, bigger than aloneness.

You have been ruined from the moment you met, and you will be ruined long after you part.

I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel.

Evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

No matter how much you think you love somebody, you'll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close.

Heaven will still have murder out at last.

The world went on, even as it fell apart.

Yes, I am alone. Except for the devils in my brain.

As if a tenderness awoke, a tenderness that did not tire. Something healing.

You've saved my life so often, I don't deserve thanks.

Your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.

I forgive the world because it has you.

In the church of my heart the choir’s in flames.

Gaze upon this wretched thing and know that it is love.

I understand. That’s the trouble. I understand.

You wrap your name tight around my ribs and keep me warm.

I keep asking what am I. Lord knows I still don't know.

But what are you trying to be free of? The living? The miraculous task of it?

Love as a punishment, love as a death sentence. Love as god.

I was very young when I was cracked open.

And yet I swear I love this earth that scars and scalds, that burns my feet. And even hell is holy.

I drink to the fact that God did not save us.

Hold me closer now and I'll forget about the life I saw for us written in your eyes. 

There are scars that can't be seen. I want them touched, but there are more scars than hands willing.

Take me with you. I want a doomed love.

You are someone I have loved but never known.

I slept and woke up inside out, on the other side of the nightmare, where the nightmare is unmovable, unyielding reality.

Only others save us, even though solitude tastes like opium.

They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.

The stars seem to live forever but they’re mortal too.

I think of you often. I think of you often, and I remember.

In the divine order of ideal things, it is written that eternal love is to be given to what is eternally unworthy.

I shine only with the light you gave me.

Say my name, taste the parts of me that belong to you.

Anons are on and the ask box will stay open until I get bored/overwhelmed/distracted by something else.

[sailorshadzter]

It’s been a long day. A long day of fighting and healing, a long day of war and violence, a long day of peace and heartbreak. She stands on the battlements, cloak left behind, her fish scale gown twinkling in the silvery moonlight. The cold doesn’t bother her- it hasn’t bothered her since that day so long ago, when she jumped from these very wells, hoping to escape from the hell that had become her world. The war was far from over, it was just a new enemy they now faced, and Sansa knows better than to fall into a false sense of security. It would never be over- not until Cersei and Daenerys were both gone. But she’s not certain either of those things would ever come true.  “Sansa?” 

She turns at the sound of her name, those raspy tenor vocals more familiar to her than anyone else’s. Jon stands there, cloak folded over his arm, his head tilted ever so slightly as his gaze meets her own. “You’re shivering,” he says by way of greeting, noticing the chill that races her spine when he steps even closer, draping the furs around her shoulders without another word. If only it were the cold that made her shiver. “I had wondered where you went,” he goes on, coming to stand at her side, his hands reaching out to take hold of the railing they peer over. The cold cuts him deep and he breathes it in, the frigid air filling his lungs and tightening his chest. “Are you alright?” He shifts so he might look her in the face, those blue eyes widening ever so slightly, rosy lips twitching with a frown; he’s seen this look before, one that tells him she’s torn between a lie and the truth. 

“Yes,” she says, the lie winning. 

Jon grins, he cannot help it, as his hand reaches out to tug on a stray lock of her vibrant red hair. “You can’t lie to me,” he reminds her and she softens, the air spilling from those lips in the form of an exasperated sigh. “Tell me…” He whispers as she leans in, his arms coming around her slim waist, drawing her in closer still… A daring move when anyone could stumble upon them there in this open setting.

“I’m afraid,” she admits, softer now, shaking her head as the moon disappears behind the clouds, casting them into total darkness. “Of what’s to come,” she thinks of the dragons and lions and every monster between, knowing that it would never be easy. Could never be easy. Jon tips his forehead against hers, lips so close she can feel them when they curve with a grin. 

“I’ll keep you safe,” he says and she knows he means it- he’s never let her down before, after all. 

“I worry for you,” she says, drawing back so she might look him in the eyes once more. “I’m serious Jon! The war to come won’t be like this one.” Jon takes hold of her hands and gives them both a tender squeeze, hoping to ease her fears with this simple gesture. It helps, somewhat. “Cersei won’t hold back… And the dragon queen…” 

“All will be well, Sansa,” Jon speaks with a confidence she doesn’t feel, but she trusts in him, for it was as she’s already thought- he’s never before let her down. “When this is all over…” He thinks of the truth, the knowledge of his birth, of his destiny, and he knows that for the first time he will be able to do something in the world that matters. Up until this day, everything he’s done has been for the North- for Robb, for Sansa, for Winterfell, but now… It would be for the realm. It’s not his dream come true, but it will come with ease so long as she is there by his side. Keeping the realm safe meant keeping her safe, meant keeping the ones he loves safe, and that was enough for him. “You’ll stay by my side, won’t you?” He asks quietly, speaking the one and only fear he’s ever had… That his feelings were just that… His. 

A smile blooms upon her lips and her hand rises up, fingertips tracing along the length of his jaw, scruffy beard rough beneath her skin. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” she whispers back and when his lips meet hers, she feels as if she’s flying. Once, she had wished for life to end, for the pain to cease, even if it meant her life would fade away. Now, she wishes life would last longer, for she’s found something worth living for. The pain of her past almost feels like a time she cannot quite recall and it was all because of Jon. 

“Come back inside with me,” he urges and she nods, allowing him to lead her by the hand back into the warm halls of Winterfell, though he does not lead her back to the great hall. No, they return to the rooms he calls his own and before the door can even swing closed, he’s pulling her into his arms, kissing her in a way far different than he had on the battlements. It’s a fervent kiss, a longing kiss, one which says every unspoken word between them. His hands are tangled in her hair, knocking pins loose, wondering to himself why it’s taken so long to do this very thing. 

She’s shedding her cloak as he tugs off his own furs, the ones she made for him with her very own hands, tossing them across the nearest chair without much care. “Sansa,” he’s gasping her name as they break the kiss a moment later, his one hand catching her by the jaw, thumb tracing along her petal soft lip, gray eyes staring deep into her own blue ones. “I love you,” he speaks the words he’s longed to say for far too long now, words he should have said weeks ago, months ago. 

The world around her ceases to spin and for a moment, all she can do is hold fast to his arms, to keep her upright on shaking knees. He’s grinning, he’s breathless, and she wonders how it’s taken them all this time to get to where they were right then, right now. “I love you,” she says back, the truth, the words she’s felt inside of her heart for far longer than she probably even knows. For a moment there is only silence as they stare back at one another, laughing, smiling, both wondering and hoping for the very same things. So, she’s the one to turn around, to glance at him over her shoulder as she draws her hair across it. “Unlace me,” she whispers and there’s only a moment of hesitation before she feels his hands loosening the laces at her back until the gown begins to slip from her shoulders. 

When she turns around, it’s to allow the gown to fall to the floor.

As she stands there in nothing but her shift, Jon swallows, having imagined this moment more times than he can count; but somehow, it’s even better than his imagination. “Come here,” he rasps, drawing her towards his bed, left unmade from that very morning. He sits upon the edge and she falls into place on his knees, her own on his either side. The next kiss that comes is hungry, it’s everything he’s wanted and everything he could not. It’s perfection. He pulls back simply so he can pull his shirt over his head and her warm hands are covering the expanse of his chest, fingers tracing along the scar of the wound that had killed him; he wonders if she even knows it was her that truly brought him back to life. 

Truth was, she’s wondering the very same thing.

“Wait,” she says, simply because she needs to capture this moment, to remember it as it was, to commit to memory every second of what it was. Jon leans in, hands sliding up beneath the hem of her shift, his palms warm against her thighs, close enough to kiss her, but he simply breathes her in, for even that could be enough. Without another word, she takes hold of her shift and draws it over her head, tossing it aside without a care in the world. The hands once on her thighs gravitate upwards, palms to breasts, the warmth of her skin against his own sending waves of pleasure through his entire being. “Don’t stop,” she whispers next, as his lips land on her throat, teeth sinking into her soft, ivory skin. 

That was all he needed to hear. 

He scoots back and in a quick maneuver, she’s resting against his pillows, staring up into his eyes as he positions himself over her. She’s never been more beautiful to him than she was right then, with her wide blue eyes and her red hair spread out across his pillow. “Sansa…” Her name is soft on his lips and she smiles at the sound of it. Of all the times she’s heard it before, this time was the sweetest. 

As they fall into what was always meant to be, the world around them falls into the night, into what was to come. This was the moment that everything had led to, this was the moment that was always meant to come to pass, the moment that they had both been waiting for. 

[illylli]

Bite My Tongue (Pt. 3) | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

→ After the successful launch of Eddie’s original DnD campaign, you convince him to take you on a late-night drive. You reveal hidden fears and hopes, and bond over your shared desires. Eddie gets too comfortable and takes things a step too far.

→ 3.5k words: including mentions of abuse, an emotional heart-to-heart, eddie singing in the car and generally being an incredible person

→ a/n: i sincerely apologise for all the heartbreak, i promise i’ll make it up to you guys in the next part ♥️ 

♫ mood: ‘dionne’ by the the japanese house

→ read part 1 | → read part 2

A couple weeks and countless nights spent planning in your room later, Eddie was ready to launch the Hellfire Club into the greatest DnD campaign they’d ever, and possibly would ever, play in their lives.

He had gone all out: decking the classroom they hired out bi-weekly in set pieces he’d convinced the drama department to let him borrow, along with some things he’d made himself out of a bit of cardboard and sheer determination.

The look on his friends’ faces was well worth the effort. Dustin and Mike were especially impressed, sharing a slack-jawed look, taking in the mystical elements that transformed the space into a medieval-inspired dungeon. Plastic torches flickered with fake fire; the space surrounded by cardboard castle walls accompanied by hanging plastic skeletons, the long table adorned with daggers and jewels and chalices filled with fake blood.

If anyone walked in now, it’d be near impossible to convince them DnD wasn’t satanic.

It was when all the guys had taken their seats, Eddie clearing his throat to put on his most theatrical voice as he raised his arms, when you burst in.

“Shit, sorry,” your voice hushed, and you began backing out of the door “I’ll come back when you’re done.”

Eddie dropped his arms with a wide smile, “We haven’t started yet. You wanna watch?” He walked towards you, hand sliding up the door, holding it in place, “It’s just as much your story as it is mine, you know.”

“I came to return these,” you placed your closed fist onto his palm, transferring the collection of silver rings, “You left them at my place again.”

It was becoming a habit. He had started leaving them there after he’d forgotten them that first night, on your bedside table. He figured it’d give you an excuse to come see him, if you ever needed one.

You picked up his hand, brushing a tender touch over the rose-bush cuts that had healed into white slivers on his fingers, then slid his rings on.

He raised an eyebrow at your wrist. “My bracelet.”

You clutched it to your chest. “It matches my outfit today.” It was the only piece of jewellery of his that fit, so you’d decided to steal it.

Mike cleared his throat, and Eddie flipped him off without looking away from you.

“So,” he smiled, “You’ll watch?”

Eddie had already felt giddy, knowing this was to be the first day of his campaign. But now that he had your eyes on him during it? It was like floating on a cloud of pure bliss. Every time something dramatic happened he’d glance at you, totally entranced, your elbows on your knees as you sat on the edge of your seat.

No, not seat. Throne. Because Eddie had given you the head place at the table, the omnipresent goddess of the world you’d helped him create. You were haloed in gentle light, a real-life angel blessing them with your presence.

You shared in the excitement, cheering along when someone rolled for a successful action, and hiding your face during tense encounters. During the session you teased Mike and Dustin endlessly, and Eddie could see you were close with Mike, which wasn’t surprising.

The kid kept looking to you for advice on how to progress when the road diverged into different paths. Unluckily for him, you had no stakes in the game and only wanted to pursue the decisions that would land him in the most trouble.

You’d laugh whenever your choice backfired, and Eddie could scarcely do his job as Dungeon Master because he felt his chest go all fluttery whenever he heard the sound, his breath stolen from him and steeped in your mirth.

By the time the session came to an end, he felt slightly relieved, because he wasn’t sure how long he could go on pretending in front of everyone that he wasn’t totally head over heels for you.

You stayed back to help him pack up all the décor, which he appreciated endlessly.

“I didn’t know you get super into it,” you said as you reviewed the session, “You’re really passionate.”

Eddie felt a pang of embarrassment, rubbing his neck as he replied, “Yeah, I can go a bit overboard with the voices and stuff.”

“No,” you stopped, turning to him, arms filled with the skeleton he’d stolen from the biology classroom, “No, it’s great! It makes everything feel more immersive.”

He chuckled, “You think so?” 

You ducked behind the skeleton, making it wave. You put on a ghoulish voice and said “I knooooow so.” Eddie just about burst a lung as he laughed.

“Fuck, you’re precious.”

You’d never cared much for the phrase about feeling butterflies in your stomach, but when Eddie said that, his head tilted and his eyes full of adoration, you felt as though your body had become a butterfly sanctuary, fluttering wings replacing the marrow of your bones, replacing the beating of your heart.

He went back to cleaning up like nothing had transpired, but you stood there for a couple more seconds, wondering why Chance had never called you precious before.

With an extra set of hands, packing up took half the time setting up had, and Eddie was left wondering how he’d spend the evening, as it was still young by the time you’d almost finished loading up the van.

There was only really one thing left.

“You want it back?” you asked as he threaded his hand underneath the chain bracelet, fingernails scraping gently against your pulse.

Eddie shook his head. “Keep it.” It would be fair that you carried a reminder of him, since the heart in his chest was a constant reminder of you.

“Hey Munson.”

Chance’s voice startled you apart, and you felt guilty without really knowing why.

“What’re you doing here, honey?” He greeted with a kiss to the side of your head, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Just helping Eddie pack his things,” you explained, “Did you win your game?”

“Nope. We sucked. Let’s get out of here.”  

A group of rowdy jocks passed by, headed by Jason. He let out a low whistle at the sight, “Mingling with the freaks now, Chance? We didn’t lose so hard that you’re looking for new friends, right?”

Chance chuckled, not noticing how tense you’d gotten next to him. Eddie could see the distress clear in your body language. You did not feel comfortable around Chance’s friends.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, “C’mon, Jason’s giving us a lift.”

You rolled out of his grip, “I’m not finished yet.”

Eddie was about to interject and let you know he could handle the rest when Chance rolled his eyes and asked “You want a ride home or not?”

The impatience paired with his flaring nostrils annoyed him way too much.

“I’ve got her,” Eddie retorted, a little possessive.

Chance looked like he was about to reject the offer, but Jason called out his name, and he let it go.

“I’ll see you at your place later,” he told you, slipping back to catch up with the others.

You let out a loud sigh, rubbing your eyes with the edge of your palms.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, and you looked surprised he was asking.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He led you to the passenger side, opening the door for you, wincing as it creaked. When he started up the van he opted for the safe option of the radio, not trusting his hands to be steady if he loaded up a cassette. It was tuned to the local alternative radio, and he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove the route to your house.

He could see out of the corner of his eye how dejected you’d become, sinking into the seat, eyes following the landscape painted in black under the moonlight as it passed by.

“You okay?” He asked again.

You sat up a bit, glancing at him. “Yeah, I just…” You played with the sleeve of your shirt, “don’t really want to go home yet.”

“You hungry?”

That turned out to be the golden question, and you soon found yourself sitting in the parking lot of a burger king, eating crappy food with a satisfied smile. Eddie spilt mustard on his Hellfire shirt, and despite rubbing at his profusely, it wasn’t going to come out without a good wash.

You almost choked on your drink as he pulled the top over his head, balling it up and throwing it into the back. He pushed up and hovered between the two front seats, the guitar pick on his necklace dangling as he searched for something to change into.

He was so close you could feel the heat of his body; smell the hint of cigarette smoke mixed with cheap cologne. You tried not to stare at his chest, but to your credit, it contained a few interesting tattoos to ogle.

Then your eyes drifted elsewhere, towards his back, and you were stunned at the scarring there, evidence of past lacerations across his spine.

He caught you looking when he sat back in the driver’s seat, a Metallica shirt in his hands. You decided not to say anything, not wanting to drudge up past trauma if he wasn’t ready.

“What do they mean?” You pointed at his tattoos, hoping he didn’t think you were staring because of anything else.

Eddie looked down at his chest, tracing his tattoos. He looked up at you with a goofy smile and said, “They don’t mean anything. They’re just cool.”

You huffed a laugh at his response, watching as he pulled the new shirt over his head. Now dressed and clean, he wrapped his hand around the handbrake, but paused, looking over to you.

“You wanna tell me what’s got you so bummed out?”

It shouldn’t have shocked you, his attention to your mood. He somehow always knew what you were feeling.

“It’s stupid,” you said, and he gave you a look that said no it’s not. “I guess I kinda feel trapped.”

Eddie turned his body to you, listening intently.

“I’ve been in Hawkins my whole life. I want to leave so badly, but Chance wants to settle down here. I know this is a horrible thing to say, but I honestly can’t think of anything worse than raising a family here. I don’t want to be relegated to some baby making machine, I want to travel and do amazing things!” 

You dropped your hands from where you’d been waving them in the air to accentuate the graveness of your matter. “It’s easy for people like Chance. Highschool has given him his best years. But I’m not like that. I feel like I’ve barely even lived.”

You looked back at Eddie, a small smile on his face. “I sound like an idiot, don’t I?”

“No,” he said, pushing the handbrake down, “Put your seatbelt on. Let’s get out of here.”

‘Here’ had apparently been in reference to Hawkins, and you noticed as soon as he missed the turnoff that would bring you home. Excitement filled you, and you shared a wordless smile as Eddie got onto the highway, driving North, away from town.

There’s something about the highway late at night, most lanes empty. The darkness of the enveloping trees and the navy sky above a comfort despite their monotony as you watch it all fly past through the window. Eddie sung along quietly to the radio, and though you’d heard his voice before, you never got sick of listening to it.

Just as you thought he might never stop, the road stretching on forever, Eddie flicked his indicator to the off ramp, a big sign indicating that he was heading for Kokomo. It wasn’t anything special; a sleeping town similar to Hawkins, but at least it was somewhere new, somewhere you could watch pass by through the window and wonder about the people who lived here, and what stories they’d lived out.

Eddie had obviously never been here before either, looking down every street, slowing down at every turn to see if there was anything interesting to discover. Eventually, he pulled onto a dirt road that led to a park, and he parked the van atop a bridge. A lazy river flowed underneath it, moonlight glittering on the calm water.

The air somehow smelt fresher here, and you took a lungful, feeling cleansed when you exhaled. Eddie knelt next to the van, motioning for you to take a step up. He hoisted you onto the roof and joined you shortly, the van bouncing slightly as he settled beside you to take in the view.

“Know any constellations?” he asked, reclining onto his back to take in the sky.

You shook your head, looking up. “I don’t.”

“Then we’ll make our own.”

Eddie pointed out a collection of stars that looked like a smiley face. You struggled to point out one that looked like a dog. He said it looked more like a cat when he finally found it. His arm kept brushing yours as he gestured to the star he liked most; one that was flashing.

“It’s probably been dead for millions of years.”

Eddie popped up onto his elbows, “Is that right?”

You smiled, eager to teach him anything you could. “More than half the stars in the sky that we can see right now have probably gone supernova ages ago. Light travels pretty slowly, and because they’re so far away, their light only reaches us after they’re gone.”

He frowned, “That’s sad.”

You shrugged. “It’s just what happens. The one that’s flashing is probably going supernova, millions of years ago, but also right now.”

Eddie laid back down next to you, the edge of his pinky brushing against yours. “Like you.”

You turned your head, looking at him for an explanation.

“You’re this brilliant, amazing person, and whenever anyone looks at you all they see is light,” Eddie wondered if he was being cheesy, but he’d already begun his little spiel, so he didn’t dare stop now and keep you wondering. “I’m just worried that they’re convinced you’re fine when in reality you’ve been, and you are, breaking down.”

He was giving you an invitation to either shoot him down or give into the topic. He knew he’d managed to pull it off when you nudged his pinky, wrapping yours around his.

“It’s not their fault. I’m too good at pretending everything’s fine.”

“What’s on your mind?”

You looked back up at the stars, your eyes glassy, reflecting their shine. “Everything feels so stagnant. My job, school, my family, Chance.” You swallowed before continuing, “All I’ve ever done is work hard to make everyone happy. I know I’m lucky, and I shouldn’t complain. My parents have sacrificed so much for me, including their happiness.”

“And I know they don’t expect anything in return. All the pressure is self-enforced. But I need to be the dutiful daughter. The perfect girlfriend. The diligent student. I have a duty to be the person they need me to be. To surpass them and prove, to myself more than anyone, that all the pain and frustration was worth it. I should feel honoured, but I just feel stuck. I carry the burden of everyone’s problems and the moment I try to focus on mine, it’s like no one’s listening.”

“Hey, I’m listening.”

You turned back to him, stars trembling in your eyes.

“I’m sorry for ranting. You and Nance are the only people I feel like I can really talk to. But with Nancy, I feel like I can’t tell her everything. I don’t want her to worry. She’s been through enough.”

“Don’t ever apologise for getting things off your chest,” he reassured you.

You nodded, gifting him a small smile. “Are you doing alright?”

“Oh, I’m just peachy,” Eddie teased, “But yeah, I can definitely relate to that kind of pressure, in a different way.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “The part about wanting to surpass your parents, become a better person to prove that the pain was worth it? Though, I think your folks are a lot nicer than mine were.”

You’d never brought it up, but you knew there had to be a reason Eddie lived with his uncle and rarely mentioned his parents.

“Can thank my dad for the sick scars on my back,” he sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. “It was a relief when he got addicted, because uh, at least then he was too dosed up to give a shit. That’s why I'm always careful when I get high. Don’t wanna end up like a zombie, like he did. And I owe it to my uncle to be a better person.” He picked at the tears in the knees of his jeans. “I understand how it gets tiring, trying to do right by those who’ve supported you, especially when they can’t really understand you. At the end of the day that’s all anyone wants, right? To be understood.”

“Not loved?”

Eddie shook his head, “Nah. Anyone can love you. But love feels different when it comes from someone who really knows you. Someone who sees all the bad as well as the good, and still wants you.

You sat up then, and slowly pushed your hand up his shirt. Eddie’s eyes met yours as you felt the raised flesh of his back, valleys of suffering he had kept hidden right beneath the surface.

Moving your legs, you slid up behind him, wrapping him up in your arms as you pressed a kiss to his back. Eddie sunk into your embrace, feeling deeply safe and secure.

“I promise,” he spoke, and you could feel the reverberations of his chest, “We’re going to get out of Hawkins. I’ll buy an old camper or something, do it up reeeeal nice. You can write while we’re on the road, and I’ll play a few gigs, and when we get sick of it we’ll leave it at the airport and fly away to wherever you want.”

“Eddie.” There was a warning in your tone. Fantasies at a time like this weren’t going to help.

“Even if we do stay trapped in Hawkins for the rest of our lives,” he reached up and squeezed your hand, “I’m glad I’m trapped with you.”

He was baring his heart to you now, bleeding and on a silver platter. You wished he was the answer to all your problems. What you would have given to tell him you wanted him to take you away forever.

But reality was still only a 50-minute drive away, and it wasn’t going to go away. You had a Chance waiting for you, and you had to remain loyal to the man who had fallen for you a year ago, because you’d chosen him. Even though your heart ached for Eddie, and over the past few weeks it had become impossible to ignore the fact that you wanted him more than anything.

You’d just gotten too used to ignoring what you wanted in order to provide what other people needed from you.

“(Y/n)?”

You moved away from him, swinging your legs over the edge of the van’s roof. Eddie knew then he’d fucked up. He’d revealed too much, and you saw him for the reject he was. Or worse: you truly did care about him, but had realised his feelings for you were a lot deeper, and now he was just another person pressuring you to be someone he needed, when it wasn’t what you wanted.

He bit down on his tongue, wishing he could take back the last few minutes, rewind to when he was in your arms.

“Should get you home before your folks start worrying.”

“Yeah,” you wiped at your face, like you were crying. You were. “Good idea.”

The radio filled the silence on the way home, playing dionne warwick’s ‘walk on by’. You watched the roads become familiar again with tears in your eyes, and you felt like you were suffocating despite breathing just fine.  

Chance was waiting by your front door as Eddie pulled up, his arms crossed as he saw the van. Eddie could see that your cheeks were wet in the reflection of the glass. He wanted to reach out, to comfort you in some way, but by the time he’d worked up the nerve you had already opened and closed the door, making your way to your boyfriend.

He couldn’t hear, but he saw the start of an argument brewing like a storm as you walked into the front door with your head hung low.

Eddie pressed his forehead to the steering wheel, simply breathing, trying to think of nothing. When he lifted his head, the light was on in your room, and though he’d been in there dozen times by now, the place now looked foreign to him.

Forbidden.

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[gaelic-symphony]

A Year in the Life: September

Twelve vignettes from the married life of Tara Lewis and Emily Prentiss, written for the Year of the OTP writing challenge.

Prompt: Hurt/comfort. Also fills the square "I'll take care of you" for @prentiss-theorem's bingo challenge.

Words: 652

Warnings: Hospitals, minor injuries (nothing too graphic)

Read on AO3 or below the cut

            Chasing after unsubs in boots over uneven terrain meant there was always the possibility of injury, and Tara felt the pop as her leg gave way beneath her and she tumbled to the ground.  An x-ray at the hospital confirmed it: Her ankle was broken.  Emily rushed over to the hospital as soon as she got the call from Matt that Tara was hurt, and she flung open the door to the hospital room where an orthopedist was preparing gauze and plaster to wrap Tara’s ankle.

            “Tara, honey, what happened?” she cried as she hurried over to her wife’s side.

            “I’m okay,” Tara assured her, “I just fell, no big deal.”

            “Your wife has a lateral malleolus fracture,” the doctor said, “The lower part of her fibula is broken.  It’s a clean break, and she’ll make a full recovery without surgery.  There’s no need to worry, Mrs. Lewis.”

            Emily felt a little flush and a pleasant tingle in her spine at hearing herself addressed that way, and she smiled down at Tara and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

            “Okay, now, Tara, this will probably hurt a bit,” the doctor continued, “But before I put the cast on, I need to realign the bone so it’ll heal properly.”

            “Need a hand to hold, babe?” Emily offered, extending her hand to Tara.

            Tara grabbed Emily’s hand, and the doctor gently put his hand on Tara’s swollen ankle, letting her take a breath and prepare herself for what he was about to do.  He squeezed her ankle joint, expertly manipulating everything back into place.  Tara groaned in pain and grasped Emily’s hand as tight as she could, her fingernails digging into Emily’s skin.  With her free hand, Emily gently stroked Tara’s hair and planted a soothing kiss on the top of her head.  Once the doctor had finished setting the bone, Tara relaxed her grip on Emily’s hand and pulled it closer to kiss it.

            “You’re doing great, Tara,” the doctor said, “The hard part’s over.”

            “Are you sure the hard part’s not going to be having this big heavy cast on my leg for the next six weeks?” Tara chuckled wryly.

            The doctor began wrapping Tara’s ankle, first in soft gauze, then in hard plaster.  It was still tender, and Tara would occasionally wince in pain as the layers of the cast were added to particularly sensitive spots.  Each time she winced, Emily wrapped her arm around Tara’s shoulders a little tighter and pulled her a little closer, as if she were trying to protect her wife from the pain.

            “Last time I had a cast it was lime green,” Tara said wistfully, looking at the plain white plaster the doctor had just encased her leg in.

            “How old were you?” Emily laughed.

            “Eleven,” Tara said, “I fell off my bike and broke my arm.”

            “Did all your friends sign your cast?” Emily asked.

            “Of course!” Tara replied, “That was the best part!”

            “Maybe you can get the team to sign your cast back at the office,” Emily joked.

            “Guess I’m gonna be spending a lot of time there now,” Tara grumbled, “How long until I’m back in the field, doctor?”

            “Oh, it’ll be at least a couple of months,” the doctor said, “Even once the cast comes off, you’ll still have some healing to do.  Your body can’t just bounce back from a broken bone like it did when you were eleven.  You’ll need to stay off that ankle and ease back into things.  Don’t push yourself too hard.”

            “I’ll make sure she doesn’t overdo it, doc,” Emily assured him.

            Tara rolled her eyes.  “Emily…”

            “Nuh uh,” Emily shook her head, “Don’t even bother arguing.  I’m taking you home, and you’re going to get plenty of rest.”

            “Don’t you have to get back to work?” Tara asked.

            “The team can take care of the case,” Emily said, “I’ll take care of you.”

[sapphicsaus]

regal ties (pt.6) - wanda maximoff

a/n: this is a shot update, but i promise the next chapter will be longer

i ii iii iv v vi

“This is not right!”

You sat in the kings throne room, now silent, despite how you were a few weeks before. Your face was bound in a wrap, and you were sulking before the throne.

Pietro was heated, and King Erik was being dismissive. “I understand your anger, son. But she is now Commander once more, and she does not oppose my motion.” A lie in many ways.

You hated it.

You hated being away from Natasha and Wanda. Although you spent not too much time with the latter as Natasha, she became easier to tolerate as you rested from injury. “What of her injuries from our last deploy? Will you take those into consideration?”

“Pietro.” 

Everyone looked at you in anticipation, considering this is the first time you’ve spoke in these briefings at all. “I’ll be fine. I swear it.” He’d known you long enough to know that when you would caress the hilt of a sword, that you were beyond angry.

“My shoulder has healed, my knee is steady to run. I need no rest, Prince.” In the corner of your eye, you notice the king smirk. “See?” Pietro sighs, shaking his head. 

“What of your face? Will that heal fast enough for him to send you to injure it more?”

“My Prince, I understand your concern.” You look up at the king. “But I can handle myself, you know this.” You could feel Wanda watching you sadly and you clenched your jaw and swallowed your pride. 

———

“So, you’re truly leaving in a few days?” Natasha asks, rubbing your bare stomach. She feels you nod as you hum, kissing her on the forehead.

“I will be back, I always come back.” She shifts to look up at you. “I trust it. But will you come back whole?” You couldn’t answer that. You never could.

“You know I do not have the answer, my love.”

She grabs your face, and connects your lips. “You should’ve had sense and became a maiden like Yelena and I.” 

“If I hadn’t aspire to be knighted, I would be a horse trainer, you know that.” Natasha chuckles, laying back down. “I do.”

You became quiet, think about if your life had been different or if you hadn’t aspired to be a hero. How different would you be? Was this scar worth it?

“If I hadn’t picked up a sword, I’d be less grotesque.” You mutter, and Natasha shoots up in disbelief. “Do not.” She demands. “What?”

“You are still the most handsome knight in all of Sokovia. The scar is hot.” You burst out in laughter, and place your hand over your face. “You flatter me.”

______

You waited on the dock as men began to file onto the boats. Pietro stood beside you as calm as he could be. 

“I’m coming with you.” He says, making your head shoot over to him. “You are not.” 

“I am.” He mutters, not meeting your gaze. “If something happens to you, I will never forgive myself, Pietro.” He looks at you silently. “Nothing will happen to me.” 

You watched him worriedly as he walked to the ship. A hand grasps you shoulder, and you look over at Wanda. “Be safe, I’ll be waiting for you.” She whispers almost in a tender way. “If that is your way of saying you’ll miss me, than I’ll take it.” You smirk. 

“I retract my statement.” She says, making you smile. “I hope your next guard is rigid.”

“No one can replace you.” You wish to believe she is joking, but she looks at you seriously, and your smile falters. “Y/LN!” You hear called out to you, and you focus back on the ship. “Duty calls.” She nods, and walks up to where her family is. 

You walk onto the ship, your gloved hand on the hilt of your shield as the board up the ship. “Are you ready?” You hear Rogers ask. “No. I get seasick.” You chuckle. You look over at the man with a strained expression. “He’s running us into a trap, I just know it.” Steve nods. “I know.” 

“But, it doesn’t matter because I will fight to the depths of hell before I let you all and the prince die.” 

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