#like. the pain got so bad my mother finally let me get a knee brace for it

[sup3r-n0vaa]

life update: i am connecting the dots. it’s all coming together. my brain is huge. i see patterns everywhere. i am a genius.

but it would seem that the picture that is being painted is that i am most likely disabled. yippee.

[dawnslight-aegis]

13. butte

Kaede sighed as she looked around for Marz. The girl had completely disappeared, leaving Kaede to deal with Hien and Yugiri on her own – never an appealing prospect, but even less so after Yugiri’s stunt that had almost gotten Marz killed by Zenos. Being sent out by Alphinaud to accompany Alisaie on patrol for imperials was almost a blessing, despite it obviously being busy work. Still, she was getting a little worried. Normally she would consider Marz more able to care for herself than Alisaie, but she’d been a bit strange since returning from the Steppe.

Finally, after nearly a bell of searching, Kaede spied a small, dark figure on the top of one of Yanxia’s many tall, flat-topped rock formations – unreachable except by flight or, apparently, by dragoon jump. With their yols still on the steppe, Kaede was forced to hike back to Namai to rent a falcon, grumbling under her breath the entire time. The sun was beginning to slip below the horizon by the time her boots touched the sparse grass at the top of the formation, and she dropped heavily down next to where Marz still sat, motionless.

“What in the Dawn Father’s name drove you up here?” she groused, more concerned than truly annoyed. “I was looking for you for ages.”

Marz exhaled heavily, blowing an errant curl out from in front of her face. “I don’t know. Thinking, I guess.”

“About?” Marz wasn’t normally so hard to get an answer out of, normally too forthcoming with her thoughts and opinions for most people’s comfort, so for her to retreat and require needling was strange, and concerning.

That earned her a sideways glare over the tops of her drawn up knees, but she answered, begrudgingly. “How weird it feels to be here, mostly. I thought… I thought it would feel more like home. But it doesn’t. Especially the steppe. Everyone looking to me like I ought to know what to do and what to say, like I should understand them – yeah, I’m xaela, but my tribe left the steppe generations ago. I don’t know them. And they don’t know me, even if they look like me. Just another reminder that I’m all that’s left.”

Kaede leaned back on her hands, staring up at the stars as they emerged from the dark. “Yeah. No kidding. I don’t have it as bad as you but… I guess a part of me expected to, I don’t know, recognize this place somehow? My ‘ancestral home’ and all that, where my mom is from, and her mother, and her mother before her… But I feel stranger here than I do in Eorzea.”

Slowly, Marz unwrapped her arms from her legs, her posture relaxing a bit as she shot Kaede a small, sharp-toothed grin. “’Least the xaela on the steppe were better than the raen in Sui-no-Sato. I think they’d keep their heads stuck in the sand even if their arses were on fire.”

Groaning in irritation, Kaede slapped her hand over her face. “Don’t remind me. Gods, they reminded me of my father. Selfish arseholes.”

After a few moments of silence, Marz fell sideways, letting her entire body weight rest on Kaede’s shoulder. It might have knocked her over if she hadn’t been subconsciously bracing for it – Marz had a habit of flopping around like a beached fish on occasion.

Her voice, when she spoke again, was quieter, more vulnerable. “Hate feeling like there’s nowhere I belong. Like there’s nowhere to go back to.”

Kaede had felt like that for much of her life, adrift and anchorless, but Marz had grown up with a family that loved her, a tribe that took care of each other, a man she’d wanted to spend her life with. And then it had been ripped away in an instant. There were no words for a loss that big, that painful. Comparison or platitudes would be nothing but insulting, and so Kaede didn’t try at all, just lacing their fingers together as they stared off into the distance.

The Spire had fully risen above the horizon, Kaede tracing its shape in her mind, by the time Marz moved, shoving herself back upright. “Nhaama, this got depressing. Did you come find me for a reason? Are we supposed to be doing something?”

“Nothing pressing. Alphinaud set me to the task of helping Alisaie patrol, but I think it’s just because he saw that I didn’t want to be in the same room with Hien and Yugiri any more than I have to be.” Her voice was nonchalant as she cast her bait into the waters, seeing if it would be taken.

Marz’s face twisted, confirming what Kaede had suspected – something had happened to sour the xaela’s opinion of the Doman prince. “Can’t blame you there,” she muttered, and then added, quickly, “You’ve never liked Yugiri.”

With a wave of her hand, Kaede brushed off the statement, leaning over conspiratorially. “Nevermind that. There’s something up with you and Hien, isn’t there?”

Startled green eyes, glowing faintly in the darkness, caught her own as Marz’s head whipped around. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. Don’t act like I don’t know you better than that, Marzanna. You’ve been avoiding him since the celebration after the Nadaam. Where you both mysteriously disappeared for a while.” Kaede raised her eyebrows, waiting as Marz shifted and fidgeted under her gaze.

“Alright, fine – we slept together. And it was weird. And bad. And I really, really don’t want to talk to him about it.”

Unlike Kaede herself, Marz was not particularly free about who she spent her time with – indeed, in the years they’d known each other, she’d only known her to have given into temptation one other time, with a very different man.

Given that she was in the middle of the longest dry spell she’d had since… ever, thanks to the fact that the man she’d recently given up casual sex for was two entire continents away, Kaede was a touch jealous, but mostly just offended that Marz hadn’t bothered to tell her about it, after all the time she spent needling Kaede about her own escapades. Reaching over, she poked the xaela girl in the shoulder. “Spill it. Details. I want them.”

Marz scrambled to her feet, looking into the distance. “Wow, is that Alisaie down there? We should probably go help her, shouldn’t we?��� And without waiting for an answer, Marz leapt to the ground below, landing nimbly as only a dragoon could – if Kaede tried to follow, she’d break her ankles at least. Possibly her neck.

Muttering under her breath about annoying, hypocritical, rude women, Kaede slung her leg over her rented falcon and urged it towards the quickly disappearing dark speck in the distance, a large part of her glad to have at least shaken Marz out of her funk a bit.

[wei-otter]

Never Forgotten //Vader x F!Reader / Ch 1

(A/N, hiii! I’ve never written before but the awesome @dokoni-mo and other anons on the page encouraged me to give it a shot. sorry abt grammar lollll i was better at science than english. i honestly have no idea what i’m doing loll, but all i know is i love vader and i love the community on here! thank you guys for being here!)

You and Anakin grew up together on Tatooine. Once the time came, he continued on to become a jedi knight while you became a medic. Years later you are once again reunited, only he is no longer the boy you knew on Tatooine. He is now Darth Vader, feared with lord. Was this a cruel trick of time? or was it your destiny all along.

Warnings: slavery, mentions of broken bones, terrible punctuation

_________________________________________

The bright suns adorning Tatooine’s warm sky served as your morning alarm. With a yawn you got up and got ready to head to the junkyard to assist your “employer” Watto. You grabbed your small backpack full of bandages and other first aid equipment, usually there would be some incident where someone would need patching up and you were the only one who seemed to actively care. You didn’t really know how you ended up on Tatooine, orphaned, and working for a low life junk dealer. What you did know was the only thing keeping you going were the Skywalkers, Watto’s slaves.

You arrived at Watto’s depot and surveyed the area for your Watto’s youngest slave, Anakin. Searching around the sand covered scraps you finally found him crouched over, collecting bolts in a small sack. Quietly creeping up on him you pounced onto his back.

“Ahhh” he shouted

“Hey Ani! What’s up?” You asked

“The suns, duh” he retorted

Rolling your eyes you told him that’s not what you meant. He responded with a small smirk.

“Where’s Watto?” You asked

“Out, I guess, I think he went to make a trade the next town over”

Nodding, thank the stars, Watto made you feel as if you needed to take a bath every time you ran into him, but he was the only one interested in a “free child” when you were found. Most wondered why he didn’t just make you a slave, but in his own weird way he felt bad for you (odd coming from him). So he allowed you a room in his junk yard and the title of “service apprentice”, though in reality you were just a glorified slave.

Tugging on your arm, Anakin pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Come on, lets go back to my house, I wanna fix up my droid”

Upon arriving at Mos Espa’s slave quarters, you saw Shmi, Anakin’s mother, cleaning machinery outside of their house.

“ Mom! I found the rest of the parts!” Ani exclaimed

Shmi turned with a smile, “That’s wonderful darling! I see you brought back someone else too! How are you today F/N?”

“I’m doing great since Watto’s gone”

She bent down to your height and winked “me too”

She walked inside and you smiled, turning to follow Anakin. Abruptly you were stopped by a child’s cry. Though you were only a child yourself, you felt the obligation to help everyone. You ran over to a girl, only a few years younger than you and held her cheek.

“What happened?”

Through her sobs she managed to say she tumbled over something on the stairs. She told you her parents were with their master so she was all alone.

“Ok, it looks like you may have broken your ankle, I need to look at it, to see for sure. This might hurt, so just hold onto me, ok?”

She nodded with tears in her eyes. Slowly you lifted her pant leg, she flinched and tightened her grip on you. Getting a better look at the leg of saw it was in fact broken, and there was a large scrape on her small knee. Sighing, you took out some bandages and ointment from your bag. You dabbed at the scrape and placed the healing ointment on it. As for the leg, you looked around and found a small stick that you created a makeshift brace with. After wrapping her leg you gave her something to numb the pain.

“It’s gonna be ok, your mommy will be back soon, alright?”

You placed her on your back and brought her into the Skywalker’s house. Shmi noticed the other child and rushed over to you.

“What happened?!”

You handed the toddler over to her and explained, she thanked you for looking out for the kid.

“ Thank you F/N, You are so responsible, I just know you will do great things”

You smiled and walked outside to locate your friend. Abruptly Anakin grabbed your hand, your eyes widened as he was almost nose to nose with you.

“Come on, I want you to be the first to see R2!”

He wanted to show you?

First?

You blushed a bit and squeaked out an “ok”. Roundish the corner you saw the can shaped droid and smiled. Ani really was a talented mechanic.

“F/N this is R2! And R2 this is my best friend F/N”

R2 blinked and beeped at you, laughing as you waved back.

“Wow Ani! This is awesome! You’re so smart!”

He smiled, “thanks F/N, but I’m not the one healing people, that’s all you.”

He noticed.

__________________________________________

Later that evening the suns were beginning to set and Watto was back. He, Shmi, Anakin, and you were in the corridor of Watto’s shop. Shmi cleaned the new trade he brought back, Anakin organized some inventory, you made Watto’s food, while Watto watched you three work.

“Ouch!” Anakin cut himself on a jagged scrap. Before his mother could even turn and react, you were by his side taking care to disinfect it.

Shmi watched tenderly at the scene before her, in her heart she wished for you two to stay by each other's side.

“Look at you two, I can already hear the wedding bells”

You and Anakin looked up at her

“Ewww, gross mom”

You laughed along but deep down you wanted her implication to come true. From his chair Watto let out a wheezy laugh, drinking from his bowl

“If those two get married they better stay working for me. We’ve got a mechanic and a medic, one who can cook at that, heh”

The three of you awkwardly laughed along. Continuing with your respective tasks you couldn’t help but feel down at Anakin’s response, “eww”? You felt your heart sink as you played that over and over.

Little did you know he was replaying your laugh in his head.

“I was gonna just agree, but she laughed at the idea. I guess I was wrong about her feelings…”

He decided not to dwell on the interaction. At least you were still here with him, even if not in that way.

Weeks later some strangers walked into the junkyard two men in odd robes and one girl, looking only a few years older than you. You were going to greet Anakin as he walked in, but he didn't see you. Instead he shifted his focus on the other girl.

“Are you an angel?”

Your heart fell.

“what?” She asked

“An angel, I heard the deep space pilots talk of them. They are the most beautiful creatures in the universe”

You felt like crying, you were there when he overheard the pilots, you discussed what angels would look like with him. What hurt more was that she did, she did look like one. How could you ever compare? __________________________________________

The men, known as Jedi, finally left with the girl, “Padme”. You felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your chest. You had Ani back, though he was different. He had a new passion about him. He had a purpose.

He explained to you that he would become a Jedi. He was the chosen one.

After the first few weeks he stopped bringing up that girl, much to your delight. You two became Ani and F/N again.

For the years leading up to Anakin’s departure to Coruscant you two became closer than ever, basically glued to each other's side. And with your growing bond, your feelings grew too. You loved Anakin. How could you not? You wished endlessly for some way to follow him down the path of the jedi, but you simply could not. Not only was your life set down a different path, Anakin would not allow you to follow him.

“This life is a dangerous one. I don’t think I would be able to bear it if something happened to you.”

He never outright said it, but you hoped this was his way of telling you he loved you. You were deeply saddened because you knew the ways of the Jedi from Ani’s explanations. There was no room for love or attachments in that world. Plus you figured you two would not see each other for many years once you went to study medicine and he went to train.

__________________________________________

Once the faithful day arrived you woke up bright and early to see Anakin off. You were there with R2, C-3PO, Shmi, and his new master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He hugged his mother and said bye to his droids then came to you.

“Hey, don’t be sad F/N, we will meet again, I’ll make sure of it. And in the future I won't just be some boy from Tatooine. I will be Anakin Skywalker, the chosen Jedi knight, i'll be somebody.”

You clenched your jaw trying to keep your tears in. Looking into his eyes you jumped into his embrace.

“You already are somebody Ani”

You could feel him smile. You wanted to finally tell him your true feelings, but were stopped by an unknown force. You met Obi-Wan’s gaze, he looked at you as if to scold you. He saw how you two were, he saw your bond, he now needed you to let Anakin go. You closed your eyes and held him tighter. You finally let go and couldn’t help the tears streaming down your face. Anakin softly brushed away your tears and Shmi came over to hold your hand as she kissed her son’s head. Anakin pulled away and gave one last look before turning to board the ship.

You felt an intense feeling of dread. Deep down you knew this was the last time you would see your Anakin Skywalker.

Their ship took off and right away you turned on your heels and began your own departure. You were off to study methods of medicine throughout different systems. Anakin was not the only one with a big future and big obligations. You may not have lived with your loved ones as a child, but you wanted to do all in your power to make sure others could have a chance with theirs.

You were closing your bag when Shmi came over to you, she laid a loving hand on your shoulder

“I’m so proud of you. You and Anakin both have brought me so much joy I cannot begin to explain. My son will be protecting others and you will be healing them.”

Already emotional you melted into her arms. She brushed your hair with her worn hands.

“I know he never said it, but a mother always knows. He loved you too.”

****

(A/N, thank you guys sm for reading!! don’t worry there will be actual vader in the next one!!)

taglist: @dokoni-mo, @wizardofrozz, @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester

[tacobacoyeet]

keep it in | g.w. x reader

a/n: thank you for your request, @kaiparkercumslut! i hope i did it justice :)

warnings: SMUT 18+, breeding kink, slapping, spitting, daddy kink, degradation, profanity, mean!dom!george, george weasley being so fucking hot please help me

“What the hell made you think you could do that, y/n? Do you realize how many rules you just broke?!” George’s voice echoed across the living room in his and y/n’s small apartment. They had just arrived back home from an extremely important meeting with potential investors for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,  and y/n had thought that teasing George under the table would be a good idea.

“You almost lost me my deal, you greedy brat! All because you were bored?! Yeah, well you aren’t going to be bored when I have my way with you. Bedroom, now. I want you ready for me.” His angry tone was slightly scaring y/n. She loved getting him riled up, loved the way he so possessively claimed her when he was mad at her. But this time, it was going to be different. And if the pool of arousal between her legs didn’t prove it, her filthy thoughts sure did.

Ready for the punishment she was sure to receive, y/n waited with bated breath as she anticipated George walking in. Finally, hearing his footsteps draw closer to their room, she braced herself. It was going to be a long night.

"Skanky bitch," George spat. "You wanted this, didn't you? You like the being completely at my mercy, ready for me to rain hell down on you at any moment? Yeah, I know you do. On your knees, nasty slut."

y/n made quick work of bringing herself down to her knees, making soft licks up and down his exposed shaft.

"What did I tell you about teasing? That's why you're in this position, you dumb bitch." George made quick work of ruthlessly thrusting his extensive length down her throat. Tears streamed down her cheeks because it just hurt so good.

"Swallow." Her mouth filled with that deliciously salty substance, and she greedily swallowed as if it was the only thing on earth.

“Get up. I want to eat your sloppy little pussy. You want me to eat your pussy, babygirl? you want me to make you feel good?” A light smirk made its way across George’s face as he caught sight of the girl in front of him. His girl. “Yes, George, please-”

A tight slap stung across her flushed cheek.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” His eyes grew dark. Yanking y/n by the legs, George inserted his skillful tongue into her soaked pussy, lapping up her juices.

y/n tried to stifle her moans- the walls were thin, after all.

Another slap. The pain was so titillating that she all but screamed.

“That’s right baby. Let everyone know who you belong to. Who this pussy belongs to.”

And so she did. Loud whimpers and cries for her daddy to “please, give me more” were the only sounds heard across their apartment- and god was she losing it. The only thing y/n could focus on was the feeling of George’s tongue moving in and out, up and down, as we wrote stories along the lines of her sopping wet cunt.

“Daddy, I’m going to cum!”

George barely caught her beg to cum within the sounds of her almost nonsensical babbling.

“No, you aren’t. Did I say you have permission?” George abruptly removed himself from her lower half, causing y/n to cry out in protest. He forced her jaw open, spitting out onto her outstretched tongue. She savored the taste of her juices mixed with the slightest bit of sweetness from his tongue.

“You aren’t cumming at all, tonight, babygirl. Bad girls don’t get to cum. But you know what you do get to have? My babies.” With that, George rammed his cock into her tight pussy, practically growling obscenities in her ear.

“Gonna fill you up with my cum, little slut. You’re going to be the mother of my kids, you hear me? Can’t wait to see your swollen belly, to see you holding my children. I’m gonna get you pregnant, you hear me? Want you to carry my babies. And you’re gonna do it, too.”

The stimulation was too much for her. George’s words, his hand on her throbbing clit, his fat cock slamming into her like there was no tomorrow- just the thought of mothering her children made her want to cum- but she couldn’t, at least not until she got permission.

Again, she asked. Over and over again, and each time the answer was the same.

“No.”

Finally, George got close to falling off the edge.

“This is it, baby. I’m gonna cum straight into your naughty little pussy. You ready for me?”

“Yes, please, daddy! Please cum in me, please-”

She felt George’s warm seed fill her pussy and she waited. She waited as he withdrew himself, panting, relaxed. And still, she hadn’t received permission. 

She was so high on pure adrenaline that she almost didn’t hear him as he made his way out of the room. “Keep it in, or else.”

taglist- drop an ask to join! : @randomoutsiders, @fathermarty, @carrotjoe

[mackeydoodledoo]

I Only Swim Free: Chapter 3

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You’ve done swimming all your life. You’ve gotten to your dream college on a scholarship for your outstanding freestyle technique back in high school. Relationships never crossed your mind however, that was before you met your swim team captain: Bela Dimitrescu.

Warning: Jealousy, heavy couple-arguements, domestic abuse, alcohol abuse

A/N: Rather than having this be a one chapter story, I decided to make this thing a whole series!

“Dried up Youthful Fame” - OLDCODEX

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

You slide your flip flops on as you hoist your swim team jacket around and through your arms. You catch up to the rest of your teammates and step out onto the floor of the pool. You're overwhelmed with the amount of people that are there. Especially when you looked up and saw a seemingly tall woman with two other girls at both her sides.

"That's Dean Dimitrescu and Bela's sisters: Cassandra and Daniela," one of your team members catches you staring at them

You were sort of aware that Bela was the daughter of Dean Dimitrescu, but you didn't expect them to be here; at your first swim meet.

"I see," you only reply

You get into one of those group huddle things before the game, Bela immediately draping her arm around your shoulders.

"Alright girls, we've been working all week for this one, we're going against our hugest rival; Heisenberg University."

You've heard about them. They've got Dean Heisenberg and Coach Miranda. You weren't sure what her last name was, you've only hear her being referred to as Coach Miranda.

"You got that y/n?" Bela turns to you

"I'm sorry what Captain?" You ask, realizing you were barely paying any attention

"Oh stars, The first event is the 100 m Freestyle, so you're up first," Bela re-explains to you

You nod, however you were nervous.

"You got this y/n," all the girls encourage you

You walk into a different direction, to get up onto the podium as the rest of the girls stand along the sidelines to watch you. As you ready yourself, you begin thinking about how you were going to round the lap before hearing a beeping sound, enabling your body to dive into the water. As you flex your muscles to the best of your abilities, you manage to round the other direction in due time however the rival right on your tail. However, your palm presses against the wall, stopping the clock for your slot. You look up the scoreboard and saw you had come in first, however, the rival’s score time was just right behind yours.

I have to step up my speed...

You climb out of the water and Bela gets your swim jacket wrapped around you. You watch the next several events go down. At one point there was a medley relay however you left that to another member. You did another freestyle event however that was pretty much it. 

“This next event is the 500 m Butterfly,” The announcer says

You watch Bela step away from you. She takes off her jacket and she makes quick eye contact with you before giving you a wink. Your eyes travel down to her bottom and you had to tear your eyes away from her fitting figure.

Girl’s got some figure... Damn shut up...

As you watch her get set for her even, you look up into the audience and notice her boyfriend looking solely at you. You notice how his eyes are giving you vibes that you weren’t enjoying. So you put your eyes back onto Bela, just as the beeps sound goes off again. You watch her form dive into the water and begin gazing at her back muscles as she drags her arms out of the water. You watch the muscles she had to show off flex with each stroke. 

Bela snags the first place spot with ease. You hang around in the locker room as the diving portion is about to begin.

“You sure know how to put on a show y/n,” a familiar voice calls out to you

You turn your head and shut your locker and smile, “Not so bad yourself little butterfly.”

“Little dolphin,” She flirts

She walks up to you and gets into your personal space. you weren’t complaining if you were honest. She tugs on the collar of your jacket and plants her lips against yours. She quickly pulls her lips away when she hears the doors open. you re-compose yourself for whomever interrupted your alone time with Bela.

“Just want to let you know Captain that the Diving events are starting,” One of the members says, gesturing to the other side of the door

You follow Bela out to the floor and sit next to her as you and your team were seated separately from all the spectators. You couldn’t help but turn to where her boyfriend was sitting and you swear he looks closer than he already was. You just turn your attention back to your divers of the team and Bela. You cheer when there is cheering to be done. There was a few more events before the meet ended.

You couldn’t help but look over towards who must’ve been Heisenberg as you’ve taken notice to Dean Dimitrescu as she watches him carefully.

"Now, this just in, we have our very first 1500 m Freestyle event," the announcer says

You and Bela, along with your team and Dean Dimitrescu look surprised.

"Heisenberg you fool," Dimitrescu growls, looking into his direction

"Now, will one member from each team steps forth for this event," he requests

You knew you were the only one who could do it, regardless if you've only swam up to 500 m in the Freestyle technique. So you take a couple steps away from Bela.

"State your name," the announcer says

"Y/n Y/l/n," you say, "1st year Freestyle Swimmer."

Everyone in the vicinity gasps. How could a 1st year possibly swim the 1500 m event? Surely it was impossible. The one swimmer from the other team does the same however, they were a 4th year swimmer. But it didn't phase you. You've swam all your life. All the preparations have come for this moment. You look up and notice Dean Dimitrescu talking to the announcer.

"We will take a 10 minute recess," he announces

You immediately bolt for the locker room, finally shedding your unphased nature, to reveal a scared 18 year old. You immediately plug in your music to play your one song you play before every meet. However, you needed it. You could feel someone's presence next to you and an arm wrap around you. You knew the familiar sort touch: Bela. You take out one earbud for her to listen to the song with you like you did on the rooftop last night.

"Its okay to be nervous," she says

You lay your head against her shoulder, "Is it? Because that girl clearly has the same build as I do... What if she's faster than me? We've seen her do multiple events."

"But this is your time to shine y/n," Bela puts a finger under your chin to look up at her, "You only swim free, right? So show that to everyone. Show them what you show me during practice."

You stop playing your music when you could hear the mic giving feedback, hinting that you needed to get yourself back out there for the event. There was no turning back. However, Bela was right next to you as you exited the locker room, feeling like an entire different person.

Let's do this y/n....

You put on your swim cap and goggles and get up on the podium to leap off of. The rival member get onto the one right next to you.

"Ready," the announcer says

The both of you lift your legs in preparation for the leap. A beep sound echoes in the arena as both you and your rival leap into the water.

30 laps in a 50 meter pool.... You got this, just PUSH through!!

You could hear the song that you were playing in the 10 minute recess, giving you a confidence boost. However only 15 laps in, and your rival is still on your tail. You were ahead by a hare, not too much but you were pulling the lead spot. However, when you turn your head to take a deep breath, you could see that the rival swimmer was beginning to pull ahead on the 28th lap.

Step it up y/n... GO!!!!

You begin to put more power into your calves and move them even faster than you normally swim. You flip and round the last stretch just before the rival swimmer could.

Come on!!

You began to feel on fire. Your calves, lungs and arms. You could tell your pace was beginning to slow down as the rival swimmer began pulling ahead.

NO! Come on y/n come on... Go against the waves and go beyond your limit!!!!

Feeling like you had been given some kind of healing power you began to quicken your pace. You reach your hand out to touch the other end of the pool, however, the rival swimmer did so as well. As your head broke the surface of the water, you look up at the scoreboard and see Dimitrescu University in the first place spot. You and your team cheers as Bela comes running over to you to help you out of the water. Once you place your right foot onto the solid ground you wince in pain. Bela was the only one who noticed you falling onto your knees. She picks you up and has you put half of your weight onto her.

"I think I overdid it on that last stretch," you groan in pain

Your family comes running over to you as Bela transfers you over in their care. Your mother puts your swim jacket around you she begins taking you to the locker room to get changed.

"Heisenberg you idiot," Dean Dimitrescu walks up to him, "You did this on purpose to get one of my girls to injure themselves-"

"That kid over did her swimming technique, but you did win right?" He asks, "So you have nothing to complain about."

He walks over to his female division swim team.

You tell Bela you’d meet her at the restaurant after your trip to the doctor’s office and she’d give you the details and directions.

"Is it serious doc?" You ask, groaning in pain, trying to stretch out your injured calf gently

"It’s not severe thankfully," he says, “However, I’d suggest you use a calf brace for the next couple of weeks. You shouldn’t swim until after two weeks.”

You sigh...

Two weeks huh? I don’t know if that’s worse or not... 

When the doctor had discharged you from his office your parents stop by a convenient store to get you that calf brace.

When you came through the doors of the restaurant after following Bela’s address she had given you, your team turns to you and applauds you, noticing Dean Dimitrescu and Bela’s sisters with the team as well. The three were, too, applauding for you. Bela immediately stands up to help your limping body and into a chair right next to her.

“Quite the stunt you pulled miss y/l/n,” Dean Dimitrescu, “How are you feeling?” 

“Better than after the meet Dean Dimitrescu,” You say, “Thank you.”

“Bela’s told us so much about you,” She adds

“Is that so?” You ask, looking at Bela, who was clearly blushing

“I’m starting to think Bela will finally leave her deadbeat boyfriend,” Daniela teases

Cassandra elbows Daniela in the side and Daniela winces in pain. 

“Oh- I uhhh I wouldn’t want to intrude on their relationship,” You lie, “Bela sure looks happy with him. He’s pretty lucky himself. Speaking of which, where is he?”

“Ditched Bela for the boys,” Daniela says

Cassandra again elbows Daniela in the side.

“Ow! It’s true,” Daniela groans 

“Well, let’s forget about him,” One of the team member says, raising her glass

“We celebrate us tonight,” another team member says

“Cheers to that,” You say

“Cheers to y/n and her sweet victory today,” Bela adds

You look at Bela and smile at her, feeling your cheeks slightly heat up. Everyone applauds you once more.

“So y/n how long have you’ve been swimming?” Daniela asks

“Pretty much when I was 5 when I went to the beach for the first time,” You say, “I felt the current of the water and somehow, I knew swimming was it for me.”

“What was your style back in high school?” Cassandra asks, with her head down

“I specialize in Freestyle and-”

“’I only swim free’ is what she says,” Bela exaggerates

You look at her, slightly a mix of amusement and unamusement written across your face you you continue drinking your water.

“I would sometimes do other strokes when I’m at the gym my parents run,” You add, “Most of the time I swim free...”

“See you only swim free,” Bela laughs

You lean into her shoulder as she places her head on top of yours.

After the tiny celebration outing, Bela offered you a ride back to your apartment. It was a silent ride though.

“You okay Bela?” You ask, breaking the silence

“I don’t know,” She sighs, “Lately he’s been ditching me for what he calls ‘time with the boys’... I feel like he’s no longer... Into me you know?”

“I wouldn’t” You sigh, trying to make light jokes, “But like our team says, you don’t need him. You’ve got them, your sisters, your mother... And me.”

“That’s true,” She smiles, “Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

You nod and hop out of her car. You watch her drive off. You were worried for Bela. You really didn’t want to intrude on her relationship with her boyfriend, you have managed to put your little crush aside however, it never left. You just don’t let it get the best of you when you’re around her. 

We’re falling... Oh lord... How much longer will it be until we hit the ground?...

You walk into your apartment and make a quick shower to shower off the chlorine from the meet. 

Chapter 4

[whump-only]

intro -- golden (vamp whump)

Ok so I have a vampire whump addiction now..... (thanks @deluxewhump + @ashintheairlikesnow). NEW WIP NEW OCs eeeeee

tw: broken bones, reference to gore (removal of teeth), captivity, restraint, it/its as pronouns, physical abuse/manhandling, non-sexual nudity, manipulative/abusive relationship, referenced death / murder

----

“Come on. Just let me just show it to you.” Hyde phrased it as though it was a request, but he stood blocking the front door. Daring Pollen to refuse him.

“No. Find someone else. I’m leaving,” Pollen said, but they both knew that wouldn’t happen. Pollen really, really regretted agreeing to housesit, For a whole month? On Hyde’s turf? Idiot! But he didn’t think Hyde would spring this on him. 

Hyde stepped forward and took Pollen by the elbow. “I’ll protect you…” he said cheekily, pulling Pollen towards the basement door. 

“Fuck you.” Pollen planted his feet firmly. To think Pollen would agree to living with a vampire… 

“Fuck! I said just look at it. How is that hard?” Hyde snapped with that ferociousness he was capable of. It’s why he was a top tier vampire hunter, but it startled Pollen when it came out like that. 

But just like that, the flash of anger was smoothed away, and Hyde was soft, coaxing. “Listen… if you actually look at it and still think it’s dangerous, then I’ll kill it before I go? Okay?”

Pollen was baffled. Did Hyde really think this was reasonable? Knowing what vampires did to his life, to his family? “…You’re serious?”

Hyde grinned before leading the way. That smile of assured victory that everyone swooned over. That Pollen used to want to kiss. Pollen clenched his teeth. 

Hyde opened the door to the pitch black basement and already everything in Pollen wanted to say, Close the door, get the fuck out! Leave it down there! That’s what any sensible human would do. 

Hyde flicked on a pale yellow light and padded down the steps. Pollen stopped at the threshold of the door, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. Run. Run! Those last words of his mother echoed in his head, the memory of that night wrapping itself around his neck, like a snake. Run! 

Hyde looked up at him, raised his eyebrows mockingly. Scared?

Pollen reasoned that if the thing somehow got loose it could kill Hyde first and give Pollen time to run away. Or something. And so, he forced himself to step down, one creaky, labored step after another. The smell of rotting, horrible something hit him so hard it triggered a coughing fit. “Ugh, god. You never crack a window down here?” Pollen called. 

Hyde was already out of sight, somewhere down there. “No windows.”

Pollen’s eyes watered and he could barely see anything in the yellow glow of the overhead light. Hyde was near the far wall, and Pollen urgently scanned the bare room for the monster. With a shock he realized it must be the figure at Hyde’s feet, curled under a blanket. 

With the clink of chains, the thing suddenly shifted and let out a whimper and Pollen’s heart leapt into his throat. 

Hyde kneeled down next to it and Pollen braced himself for it to leap up and rip open Hyde’s face.

But instead Hyde lifted it clean off the floor and held it up. Its blanket fell away and it was naked, so thin that it looked like its every bone was visible through its grey skin, making it all the more inhuman. It looked like an eerily accurate mannequin, utterly plastic and lifeless, yet still detailed in its rendering. The chain that dropped down from its neck looked heavier than its body. The thing remained limp in Hyde’s arms, its head drooped down to its chest, its bound wrists hung loosely. Its mop of black hair covered the top half of its face and the bottom was obscured with a muzzle. Its legs dangled a full foot off the ground. There was no way it was full grown, Pollen realized. 

It did not paint an intimidating picture. But Pollen still flinched when it growled suddenly. 

Hyde didn’t seem to register the sound at all, even though he was holding it against his body. He switched to holding it up with one arm. “Look at its eyes.” With the other hand he moved its matted hair out of the way and pulled up one of its eyelids. The iris was a deep, almost golden, yellow. “Such a pretty color.” 

The vampire’s eye seemed to fix on Pollen, its pupil growing small in an instant. Pollen turned away, finding himself overwhelmed. Those eyes. Just like—

“Want to touch it?” Hyde said, almost reverently. 

“No,” Pollen said firmly. “Just stop.”

“Suit yourself.” Hyde dropped the vampire so suddenly that Pollen jerked in surprise as it hit the floor and cried out.  

Hyde stepped over the cowering creature and with a gleam in his eyes. “See? Didn’t I tell you?”

Pollen stepped back, momentarily forgetting the vampire, but nonetheless terrified. Hyde was alive now, glowing with excitement. At any moment his energy could be redirected by a swift turn of anger into a quick bone cracking punch or the instant unsheathing of his knife. In this basement, Hyde could get away with anything, Pollen thought. 

But Hyde was in good spirits, seemingly assured that his presentation had been thoroughly convincing. So he was now onto logistics, “The freezer upstairs is filled with cow blood. Give the vamp a block every day or so. That’ll keep it alive but it won’t get strong enough to give you trouble. You can always lower the portion if it’s getting too energetic.”

Pollen’s head was still spinning from the slow realization of what he’d gotten backed into doing. “And what, take off its muzzle? What if it bites me?”

Hyde grinned with chaotic glee. “I took out its fangs! And the rest of the front ones too.”

Pollen unconsciously raised his hand to cover his mouth. 

Hyde continued. “Still gotta be wary of the things growing back of course. You can use the pitchfork to pin it down, but trust me, it doesn’t move around much anyway. It’s pretty easy.”

Pollen tried to relax his clenched mouth. “Right. Cow blood. Got it.”

Hyde tapped his chin. “Other than that, I just dump a bucket of water or two every few days, to wash down the piss an everything to the drain there.”

Literally mopping shit. Unbelievable that Hyde would take him for granted like this, Pollen sulked. “I hate you. You’re a bad friend.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Hyde said tenderly. He reached for Pollen’s hand and teasingly wrapped his index finger around Pollen’s pinkie. With the other hand he gave Pollen’s butt a little squeeze. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Ridiculous. Did Hyde think he was so good that sex would make up for this?, Pollen wondered. Pollen wasn’t that desperate. 

And now Pollen was insulted. “Hey. I never say I’d do it. Chained up or not, toothless or whatever, I’m not going to be able to sleep knowing there’s a vampire under me. That’s a risk you’re willing to live with. But not me. What if it gets away and comes upstairs to kill me?”

Hyde sighed. “You really think that thing is any threat to you? Be serious.” 

“Yes!” Pollen insisted. 

Hyde’s eyes narrowed and he smirked coldly. “So sad. But I get it. Can’t be too careful with vamps. They killed your folks right?”

Pollen already knew Hyde wasn’t just giving up. But Pollen didn’t know how to stop him. How to not walk into the trap. So Pollen yielded, “Yes. And my siblings. I had two sisters.”

“That’s too bad...” Hyde turned to the vampire that had somehow managed to silently twist most of itself back under the blanket. “Hey, Goldie. Mr. Pollen doesn’t trust you…”

Hyde walked purposefully toward a metal baseball bat that Pollen hadn’t noticed before. Pollen didn’t think he imagined the dark staining on it. 

Hyde glanced over, trying to catch Pollen’s gaze. “…What can we do about that?”

Pollen felt very cold in his stomach, remembering Hyde’s promise to kill it if Pollen thought it was dangerous. “Hey, come on Hyde. Hyde! Don’t do that,” Pollen said, but he wasn’t sure. The vampire couldn’t be released back to the outside to terrorize people, they both knew that. 

The vampire too, must’ve sensed the lurch toward danger, because it broke out of its stupor. As Hyde loomed over it, it struggled and whined, tried to scrabble against the concrete, pull itself away. But Hyde firmly stepped down on a part of it, pinning it.

“Stop! No!” Pollen shouted, but Hyde raised the tool above his head—

Pollen turned away and covered his ears to block the piercing cry of the creature. With every new breath it screamed into its muzzle and seemed to choke on its own voice before screaming again.  Pollen panted in horror, unable to look up. 

“One broken leg,” Hyde reported, loudly, over the thing’s cries. “Or if we’re really being more exact, it’s probably shattered from the knee down. Still think vampy can get away?”

Pollen shook his head. “Hyde. I can’t…”

“What do you think, Goldie? Can you still crawl up the stairs and kill Mr. Pollen?” Hyde addressed it with a tone that approached tenderness. But he still held that bat, weighing it in his hand. Pollen realized Hyde never intended to kill it. 

Pollen wished he could jump up and snatch away the bat. But his body wouldn’t move. “Hyde. Hyde, please stop. Just stop.”

Hyde looked right at Pollen with dark eyes as he raised the bat again. “Sorry, Goldie. One leg to go.” 

Pollen finally unfroze and raced up the stairs two at a time, tripped once, bashing his chin into a stair, but it didn’t slow him down until he was back in the kitchen. He felt dizzy so he sank to the floor and clapped his hands over his ears as the creature wailed. 

The stairs creaked as Hyde climbed them. He softly closed the basement door, muting the sounds of pain. 

The ringing finally subsided in Pollen’s head. “Why the fuck did you do that?” Pollen demanded. 

“You know I’m the last person on earth who’d underestimate a vampire. I wouldn’t leave you in a situation where you could get hurt,” Hyde said sweetly. 

You knew it’d make me guilty, Pollen thought. To get back at me for resisting you, right? But Pollen said nothing, and took the hand Hyde offered. 

Hyde pulled Pollen to his feet. “I know it’s scary. Especially for you. But you can do this.”

Pollen rested his head on Hyde’s shoulder, pretending that this Hyde, the soft one, couldn’t switch back if he was hugging Pollen. The broken moans of the thing could still be heard through the door. This whole exercise seemed so cruel now, so unnecessary. Pollen mumbled into Hyde’s shirt. “Why can’t you just kill it?”

Hyde wrapped his arms around Pollen. “This is a rare opportunity. I’ll take it around to fairs and things, earn a little cash showing people something they’ve never seen before. It’ll be something to do between my hunting trips. Maybe I can even travel less, if the money’s good… I’m not getting younger, you know?”

The creature’s pitiful sobs echoed in Pollen’s skull. Pollen gripped Hyde’s shirt tighter. “Mhm.” 

Hyde approvingly pecked a kiss onto Pollen’s forehead. “Thank you.”

Pollen cursed the fluttery feeling it gave him. He broke out of the hug. “You’re welcome, asshole.”

Hyde began to shuttle around the house, scanning for things he might’ve forgotten to pack. The vampire had gone quiet. 

Finally Hyde stood at the door, ready to leave. 

Pollen joined him to see him off. “Have a nice trip. Kills lots of vampires for me.”

“That I will.” Hyde gave a salut and marched off. 

Pollen closed the door and slumped down to the floor. “Fuck!”

[jjyusmile]

enchanting | hwang inyeop

pairing: badboy!hwang inyeop x {gender-neutral} reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

warnings: suggestive nature, alcohol, an almost accident, fwb if that makes you uncomfortable!

word count: 5.1k

taglist: @katinthemoon

A/N: happy true beauty season finale day! I hope you enjoy this dedication to our favourite second lead <33 give inyeop lots of love on his socials because he deserves it!! 

»»——————————-——————————————-««

you couldn’t help but think to yourself.

was it the way he walked? the way he held his head so high that his fluffy hair almost touched the clouds? was it the way he thought the world revolved around him? his cocky aura screaming ‘look at me! look at me!!’?

and yet, he was nothing like you had imagined. saying that second “yes” completely warped your world – how much longer can I stick to this friend with benefits thing?

the thought spurred a memory of how you first met. somehow… you ended up in his clutches. he was the boy who wandered the corridors, his disciples in toe, and nobody could touch him. except somehow… you did. well, kind of.

you remember it clear as day. it was a thursday night, your fluffy socks rested against the hard wood of your coffee table in front of you as you chatted on facetime to your parents. when your stomach grumbled, so loud that maeum, your fluffy chow-chow, lifted her head from against the armrest with curiosity as to wear the sound came from. such inquisitive eyebrows for a nonchalant pup that barely batted an eyelash unless you were filling her dinner bowl.

“even we heard that…” your dad’s smile filled the screen, a light teasing in his tone. you thought to yourself when the last time you ate was… it hadn’t been today.

“why don’t you head out and grab something good for yourself from the convenience store? I know you don’t cook for yourself, my baby.” your mother’s disapproving tone caused your eyes to roll -- miles away and she still nagged about the fact you ate nothing but instant noodles if you could be bothered.

“okay, ma. I’ll go do that. thank you for your concern.” short and snappy, your patience wore thin. probably because she was right and you were absolutely ready to devour some food.

a few air kisses later, and you were gliding the zipper up to just beneath your nose, the sherpa material insulating all heat it could as you brace yourself for the bitter cold. maeum’s tail wiggled excitedly in anticipation, her harness wrapped snuggly against her fur. “come on then,” you giggled at the way she span around energetically as you unlocked your front door. she practically knew the route to the convenience store by now… for a 6-month old chow, she was very intuitive.

out the door. down the hall. press the call button and wait for the elevator with patience. get into the elevator (you had to carry her if it was too busy but she didn’t mind too much). leave your apartment complex and turn left and keep going until the bright lights of the store appeared with a ‘fresh food prepared daily’ sign like a saving grace.

the owner didn’t mind of maeum came into the store, often bending down to give her treats and pets. maeum always leaned into anyone’s affection. it was her favourite time of day.

your airpods blasted your hype playlist, something you did when you needed self-reassurance. walking out of the store, maeum in toe, you rummaged through your bag of snacks, pulling out one of the many samgak kimbap you picked up. the crisp evening put you off sitting outside with a hot meal, plus maeum would attract too many people for your isolated personality to handle. the coo’s and aww’s often got worse as the night went on.

it wasn’t too long of a journey home, but something about the evening air caused you to walk slower and appreciate the serene surroundings. high school kids stumbling out of the noraebang that you often frequented in your days. being drunk on sugary snacks and endless cokes while you sang your little heart out. the snack in your hand tasted almost nostalgic as you remembered the nights you sat for hours outside the convenience store, hoping a kind stranger might sneak you a bottle or two of soju. those were the days you had friends to hang out with, but since you moved closer to seoul for university, they hadn’t bothered to keep in contact. you spent your days sitting alone in class, hoping your professor wouldn’t tell you to pair yourselves up. you were the only person that sighed in relief when they mentioned that they’d pre-assigned partners.

a low growl sounded over your music, with maeum halting in her tracks. it was only as maeum barked so loudly that you paid attention to what was happening. the bike headed straight for you. the rumble of its engine overwhelmed you as you realised you had stepped into the road without checking for oncoming traffic. yelping, you jumped back, pulling maeum abruptly, just quick enough for her to be missed. but it sent you flying onto your ass, a dull throb aching at the impact.

“are you okay?!” a shout from the direction of the motorbike filled your ears, the engine shutting off and footsteps getting closer.

“I’m fine,” you huffed, using your arms to twist your body with difficulty. your tailbone really throbbed as your face morphed into instant regret. you were turning to face the person clad in a helmet and biker jacket that hugged their body tightly in the frosty air.

“umm - I wasn’t talking to you.” you could just make out their eyes in the gap, slightly squinted in apprehension. when they turned their attention to maeum, you realised that look wasn’t for you. maeum, who sat sweetly with her tail wagging, front paws perched on their knees began to lick the helmet off them, only finding purchase in the gap that showed their mysterious eyes. traitor.

it was only when you heard the low chuckle that your attention turned back to the owner of the bike, heart stopping in its tracks for a small second. they reached out to ruffle the abundance of fur that framed maeum’s face, carefully checking for any scrabs or marks from the almost accident.

“hey there, friend! i’m sorry I almost hit you,” their tone emphasised the frown hidden by their helmet. it was only then did they reach up to lift the helmet off their head. and the breath you were about to let out hitched in your throat.

this mysterious biker wasn’t a stranger. he was the notorious bad boy that walked your universities halls, his minions in toe and never batted an eyelash to anyone who showed an interest in him. the one whose name you feared would be called out after yours in pairing for a class project. the one who probably didn’t even know you existed.

he was hwang in-yeop. and your bulging eyes that almost fell out of their sockets told him that you knew that already.

but, little did you know that the moment his leg flung off his bike to check you were okay, he realised who you were too. the one who sat at the front of the class with their pencil knocking in a continuous rhythm against the desk, a sound he realised rang inches louder in his mind compared to the rest of the class. he noticed the way your eyes glistened as you focused on what your professor was saying. he also figured out you never paid attention to anyone else, you sat alone with no intention to allow anyone into your bubble unless they were forced to. he actually hoped his name would be called out after yours.

his question of concern died in his throat when he saw it was you. those glistening eyes still sparkling despite the obvious annoyance in your expression. so he trailed off to pay attention to the adorable fluff beside him, luckily he adored dogs.

your embarrassment flushed in the apples of your cheeks, the heat almost melting the rim of your glasses that rested against the bridge of your nose. “maeum - come on, leave him alone.”

you lifted yourself up, trying not to show the pain. gathering your spilt snacks back into the bag, you stood up stretching your legs. but it difficult not to look at inyeop. his head was tilted slightly as he gazed up at you, this time the apprehension focused on you. was he concerned? he should be! he almost knocked you over!!

quickly, he stood himself, handing maeum’s fallen harness back to you.

“thanks,” you took it back quickly.

“you’re welcome.” his attention was still focused on maeum, who was jumped up at the bag in your hand hoping there was something inside for her.

the silence was excruciating. in the two years you’d known each other, this was the first time any contact had been made. and it was almost unbearable.

“uhhh- thanks again, sorry we almost got you into an accident,” you tried again, reaching into your bag to pick out a snack to give him as a peace offering. although he annoyed you, you realised you should’ve been looking where you were going - at least for maeum.

he took the can that laid flat on your palm slowly, afraid you were just teasing. but you let him take it without reluctance.

“do you- uhh…” he started.

“hmm?” your head raised sharply to turn your attention to him, the snacks in your bag long forgotten.

“do you… do I.. know you?” he tried again. if he was nervous, you could barely sense it. although he was stumbling over his words, his eyes were narrowed in scrutiny, analysing your every feature. he knew exactly where he knew you from, the flick of your pen ringing in the back of his mind. any excuse to keep you beside him longer.

“probably… you’re in my criminology class. although I doubt you’ve ever actually paid attention to anything in that class, let alone me.” 

he scoffed, eyes rolling up into the heavens. you really were bold. “that’s quite the assumption.” a smirk so prominent it has sketched its way into your brain, all the way down to the subtle shading of the dimples that outlines the corners of his lips.

you ignored him, focusing on maeum for a moment as she sat beside your feet in a fluffy ball, eyes glittering expectantly at inyeop. you followed her gaze, landing specifically on the creases that lined his eyes as he analysed you. you huffed. “which way are you headed?”

he tilted his head to look over your shoulder at his bike sitting idly on the side of the road. “well, before I was interrupted I was on my way to a party.” and then his eyes met yours. “why? do you want to come?” his signature smirk appeared, the one you caught glimpses of every so often.

you hesitated, the thought of being anywhere remotely sociable filling you with dread. you became nervous in seconds “I- uhh. I was going to say I’d treat you to dinner because of the accident I almost caused…” you were shy, you admit. he couldn’t understand how someone who can barely look him in the eye could be so bold.

your offer caused his heart to do a single backflip; that was more of a reaction than any other, he couldn’t recall this kind of reaction from anyone else. to say the least, he was intrigued by the person who sat at the front of class. “do me a deal.” 

“hmm? a deal?” shimmering eyes, etched into his mind.

“you treat me to dinner, and I’ll take you to the party.”

he was met with silence, searching your eyes as you lulled over the thought in your head. right now?

it was almost like he could read your mind. “we could make it a recurring thing… you can make up for me almost hurting not only you but this gorgeous ball of fluff” your heart leaped when he crouched down to rub between maeum’s ears with affection, even more so when he looked back up at you. “… and I’ll teach you how to be sociable.”

“oooh! kinda like a friends with benefits thing?!” you grinned, excited by the fact that you may not have to feel so alone anymore.

his grin widened at your exclaim, certain you weren’t sure exactly what you had just said… “sure… like friends with benefits… are you in?”

and that was how you ended up in the clutches of the notorious bad boy. 

»»��—————————-——————————————-««

those around you witnessed a flourishing friendship; you were attached at the hip. your five o’clock walks by the beach were met with his bubbly personality, maeum pleased with having someone else to chase the waves with. you finally had someone to sit beside in class, his signature smirk plastered on his face as the whispers of students wondered who on earth their designated bad boy was sat beside.

it got to the point that you remember the little things. he always ordered extra cheesey tteok because you always added extra onto your own. you packed extra heat packs when you knew he’d be joining you. he started turning up three minutes early because he knew that was how long it took you to get from your apartment to the lobby, where he’d be waiting for you with an extra coffee for you in hand. he knew to wear an extra sweater to the party because you always left without a jacket and would complain of the cold despite the countless shots you had consumed. you noticed that when his foot began to tap as the horrifically drunk girl in front of him continued to run her hand down his bicep, he wanted out, so you always stepped in to play the jealous ex.

as the little things  continued to build up, your feelings flourished alongside them.

not that you ever did anything about them.

until one night it was clear that things weren’t as they used to be. inyeop had dragged you into an unoccupied room at the party, away from the sleaze who was hitting on you.

“what the fuck are you doing?!” you cursed, something you didn’t usually do. it must’ve been the alcohol that coursed through your veins, and the slight haze that the drunk guy’s breath washed over you.

“what am I doing?! what were you just doing out there?!” he grabbed your arm again, you swayed slightly, trying really hard to focus on his eyes.

you smiled at his tone, it was flittered with desperation. “why… what was I doing?”

he couldn’t fight off the annoyance that washed over him at the light smirk that graced your lips. you had been spending far too much time with him, his cockiness was starting to rub off on you.

“you were literally throwing yourself all over that guy!! everyone was watching you!!!” although he knew you weren’t stable on your feet, he shook your shoulders with emphasis.

and the moment you may have changed everything. his face was so close to yours that you could feel his exasperated breath against your cheekbones.

“were you watching?” you shot back.

his eyes widened so much his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. “what…”

it came out as a whisper, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. his eyes began to glisten, the only hint of innocence he could ever show. you turned his world upside down more than he could have ever imagined.

“I was just having fun, yeop.” your taunting was over.

his head shook abruptly like he was trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. your finger reached up to tap the tip of his nose, the bright smile forming on your lips was impossible to not mirror.

he sighed drastically, a giggle escaping your throat. “can we just go back now… I’ll drop you home. I want to see maeum.”

 and like that, you were being dragged out of the house quicker than your feet could keep up. along the way, he had slid his leather jacket over your shoulders as he always did. the walk home was silent as you matched your steps along the path. the low hum of the city began to sober you up, inyeop quietly singing to himself.

since that first party on the night he almost crashed into you, inyeop made it a habit to walk you back. at first, you thought it was because he parked his bike outside your apartment complex. you soon realised there was a caring side behind his bad boy facade that kept everyone else hooked. they clearly didn’t see the soft bean that was for your eyes only. he had become your best friend, and he cared about you just as much as you did him.

he sensed your aura change from beside him, head turning to see the smile light up your face. “what are you grinning about?” his own lips quirked in response to your happy expression.

“not much… just remembering the night you almost sent me and maeum flying.”

he halted abruptly. “hey! you admitted that night was entirely your fault!”

you held your hands up in mocking surrender, “okay! okay… I did admit that…”

he went silent for a moment. and then said something that shocked you; not because of ill intentions, but because you finally realised that that night didn’t just change your life.

“I don’t regret it.”

his eyes were genuine. and you returned the small smile he offered in silent appreciation for one another.

and then the heavens opened.

the mad dash to your apartment was filled with laughter and shrieks from you both. feet slapping against the puddles on the ground as you passed through the lobby doors. your hair clumped in damp strands over your eyes as you began to ring out your damp clothing. inyeop’s jacket became heavy on your shoulders.

“you can’t go home in that. come up for a minute while it settles and you can dry off a little.”

his eyebrows wiggled suggestively in response earning a shove from you.

maeum was overly excited to see inyeop. almost as if you were scotch mist. as he crouched down to give her affection, you headed for your cupboard, pulling out a couple of warm towels for you both to dry off.

you found inyeop lying on his back by the front door, shoes half off with maeum lying on top of his chest giving him her utmost attention. he was mumbling away to himself and giggling.

“what are you laughing about?” the towel landed on his face, earning a scowl from his raindrop stained face.

he then started laughing to himself again.

“what?!” you exclaimed.

“nothing!” he defended, the smile still evident on his lips. you waited, eyebrow raised in questioning.

“it's just… what you said down there got me thinking about something.” you waited again, the silence beckoning more of an explanation for his madness.

he shrugged his sweater off, pulling it from the scruff of the neck over his head. one small flutter.

he proceeded to rush the towel through his hair, biceps flexing in the process. two small flutters.

the whole time, his eyes never flickered from yours. it was the ultimate taunting staredown that caused the third flutter.

you broke the silence first. “thinking about what?”

he neatly folded the towel and placed it over the back of the chair to dry off, his hair sticking up in all sorts of directions. in two quick strides, he was stood in front of you, toes touching and fingers reaching for the dry towel you held tightly in your clutches.

quietly, he ran the towel through your hair, careful to focus on drying it completely so that you didn’t get a cold. from just below his chin, you had the perfect view of his features as his eyebrows etched in concentration. you were dying to know what exactly was going through his mind. you cleared your through in an attempt to drag him out of his thoughts.

“well. downstairs you said something that reminded me of something you said before.” you nodded, indicating for him to elaborate. “when we first met, the night you walked out into the road. you asked me if we could be friends with benefits.”

a deep pink flushed in your cheeks as your hands flew up to cover them. his eyes met yours as the embarrassment washed over you. gotcha.

“I did not say that?!” you tried but the bellow that came from inyeop proved just how much he was enjoying seeing his best friend squirm. he knew back then exactly what you meant, but the thought that anything more could ever come between you haunted him since that day.

“that was what… half a year ago now. you were so innocent back then.” his hands dropped from drying your hair, but not within brushing under your chin quickly in taunt.

you were annoyed. you knew inyeop enjoyed teasing you but surely this was too far. your thoughts drew back to early that night when he pulled you away from the guy you had flirted with because you saw him watching. when you teased him, it was the only time you’d ever seen him hesitate. and you enjoyed it.

“I’m not innocent anymore,” you taunted. eyes narrowed into your own, inyeop focused on read your thoughts as he tried not to react. but he couldn’t help it. for the last few months, you played with each other until you almost crossed the line. but the thought of crossing the line, even just once, left a dull burning in his stomach.

“is that right?” he retorted, eyebrow raised as his face seemingly inched closer to yours.

“mmhm.” it was all you could say. your nose filled with the cologne he was wearing, it was a mix of warming vanilla, swirls of cinnamon and just… him. “how enchanting,” you muttered lowly, he didn’t hear anything.

he was too focused on the way your eyes flickered between his, searching for some kind of each. you were in the same position, you always were. seeing which one of you broke first. but he also knew it would be him. so then came his next words.

“okay… prove it.”

a gasp escaped your throat, a mixture of shock and a sudden craving for touch. “what?” it came out as a whisper.

“prove you’re not innocent. maybe we can expand on that friends with benefits deal we made.” he wasn’t holding back. he had done for far too long, constantly tiptoeing on the tension that could light up this entire apartment building.

your fingers inched closer to him, both for support in your knees that were about to buckle, but also with the overwhelming desire to make contact. his white tshirt clung perfectly to his torso. one night couldn’t hurt.

“okay,” you agreed. but held your hand up to his face quickly to stop him from leaning in. “but! it’s a one time thing. you said you could teach me things so we’ll treat it as that.” excuse after excuse poured out of you before you could stop it, fear that your feelings would multiply the moment his lips met yours.

his lips quirked slightly as he nodded in agreement. but as soon as he got a taste, it was like something was yelling from within, a burning desire that laid idly for so long threatening to overflow. his fingers grappled at the curve of your jaw to keep him grounded. your own pulled at the hem of his shirt, a silent begging for the moment you had both thought about but never acted upon.

your body flushed against his, he barely let go to pull his shirt over his head with one hand, the other planted in a grip at your waist. your lips parted momentarily only to be chasing after one another the moment the white material met the floor. he guided you blindly, knowing your apartment by the back of his hand, your lips locked in a desperate embrace.

the moment your knees hit the end of the bed, you fell backwards hitting the comforter softly. inyeop stood over you, quietly taking in your appearance below him. his eyebrow quirked with his signature smirk making an appearance.

“you sure you just want this to be a one time thing?” his fingers traced up your thigh in taunt.

you groaned and pulled him down to you, “shut up.”

and the night went on, whispers of affection, lips tracing across the plains of each other's skin as he showed you how the gods lived, and you proved to him your innocence melted away at the flick of his fingers. you decided then that you were wrong. it couldn’t be a one time thing. because the moment his lips reached for your own, any unease washed away as you were met with the melting pools of his eyes. 

this was something only the two of you shared. the subtle touches and flirtation from the previous months finally adding up.

the clock flashed in the darkness, indicating that you were approaching the fourth hour of the day. inyeop’s fingers traced down your sides subconsciously as he pressed delicate kisses into your shoulder. you had laid in silence for what felt like hours, basking in each other’s warmth and sudden bursts of giggles as you reached for each other. you were wrapped up in everything about him - his delicate touch, his intoxicating scent, his plush lips that barely left any part of your body untouched.

it was him that broke the silence, pulling you to turn into his embrace, noses brushing as your heads rested against the same pillow. “that was fun.”

you giggled against his lips, his bluntness causing flowers to bloom in your chest. “it was.”

he exhaled slowly, fingers coming up to push your bangs away from your eyes, fingers grazing over your eyebrows. he realised his fingers moved subconsciously to smooth out the frown lines that were usually there… but were far from it in these early hours of the night.

“what do you think… about all this.” he questioned, hoping you didn’t regret the last few hours.

“it was… interesting.” you giggled as the worry on his face faded at your response. “we could… uh- make it a thing.”

“a thing?” he wiggled his eyebrows for the second time that night, suggestively hinting to you.

“yes, a thing.”

“like.. our thing?” his the pads of his fingers wandered the high points of your cheeks until he met your lips, brushing over them nonchalantly.

“sure. our thing.”

he was mesmerised by how your lips moved under his touch, silently scolding himself for not being this bold sooner. you were merely adding another layer onto your friendship, no strings attached.

but his eyes focused solely on your lips, the way they curved when you smiled, only at him. “how enchanting.” he whispered.

and that was how your arrangement began. best friends outside of these four walls. best friends with a twist the moment you stepped in through the door.

 you often found yourself making excuses to remain in your apartment. simply sitting together and reading was enough for you, subtle touches coming with time as you tried to focus on the page in front of you.

but, trying to get his attention once he was engrossed in a book was difficult. you never expected the so-called bad boy to be a softy for mysterious quests and fending off evil. then again, that was one of the raging stereotypes inyeop constantly diminished. 

maeum rested her head against his shoulder as she laid across the top of the sofa, tiny beige fur tickling his neck as she stretched out but he didn’t mind. maybe if you gave attention to maeum he might get a little jealous?

your intense stare, that was supposed to be for her, was often warped by the way his eyebrow quirked at a funny line, or his jawline sharpening abruptly as he stretched his neck from sitting in the same spot all day. his fingers grazing your ankle didn’t help the situation at all. until he caught you staring.

he lifted his head that was previously buried in Legends of Condor Heroes, his hand falling to his lap as he turned to you. his head hit the back of the sofa when his gaze pooled into your own; they glistened, his eyes, something it took you a long time to notice. he’d tell you it happened the moment you said yes… but you’d argue that it was there all along, the walls he built up disguising it from the world.

“what are you looking at?” he quipped, eyebrow raised as a subtle smirk rested on his lips. the way the corners turned up right at the edges formed a fuzzy feeling right in the pit of your stomach. and that’s why he did it - inyeop lived for the reaction he got from you.

“nothing,” you turned your head back to your own book. legs sliding back to your chest as you wrapped your arms around them; your chin rested against your knees while you tried to focus on the words on the page. you had his attention now – bingo.

a sudden jolt almost knocked you off the plush cushions, inyeop had lifted your feet to drape them back over his lap “where they belonged”. the novel he was so concentrated on before was now placed neatly on the armrest, the dog-ear bookmark on the corner resembling maeum’s. a small smile washed over his features when he realised what you were doing, fingers reaching up to tuck your fallen strands behind your ears. you weren’t expecting it; he barely flinched when he pulled you closer. you could see why everyone at school constantly stared, he wasn’t on the weaker side. it was growing more difficult to fight off the rush of emotion that came over you and swelling in your chest each time his eyes crinkled, intensely gazing into your own; his bad boy persona was diminishing little by little before your very eyes.

this arrangement made subtle touches toward each other a very normal thing. you found it difficult to keep your hands to yourself, especially in public. moments as you were walking down the street, your fingers would gravitate toward his.

“hi.” the crinkles around his eyes becoming deeper as he smiled. “someone wants attention.”

“aren’t you supposed to be going on a date soon?” you quipped, remembering that he wasn’t just yours to share.

he hummed, finger coming to his chin exaggeratedly as he stared off to the side in pretend thought. he did, but he knew where he’d rather be.

in response, your book was flung across the room, but not before he delicately folded at the corner of the page you were on. his fingers gripped onto your waist as he inhaled slowly, eyes wandering over your features like it was the first time he ever saw you. 

“fancy a quick one?” that signature smirk was hard to say no to.

»»——————————-——————————————-««

A/N: part 2? ;)

[i-call-me-clarence]

Life’s a Cemetery (Dig It)

Kevin and Jack get their hands dirty on grave duty. 

Rated G 

Suptober Day 6: Cemetery Boys

Fic below the cut

----

“You sure you’re good?” Dean asks for the third time. 

“Kevin is here, and if anything happens we have angel blades and silver bullets,” Jack answers, making a little wave motion at Kevin who’s silently asking him how much longer he’s going to be on the phone. Kevin rolls his eyes and goes back to leaning on his shovel, refusing to start digging until Jack joins him. Jack doesn’t want to keep him waiting any longer, “Dean, I’m sorry, but I have to--”

“And you’ve got the iron poker, right? And the holy water?”

“We still have everything in the pack you left us.” 

“But did you double-check? A real hunter always double checks, triple even--”

Before Jack can respond Kevin is taking the phone from Jack’s hands, “Believe it or not the ex-god and current prophet know what they’re doing. Bye.” and he hangs up the phone. 

Jack gives Kevin an apologetic shrug of his mouth as Kevin hands back the phone, slapping it into Jack’s hand. “He’s protective.”

“He’s turned into a helicopter parent. If I wanted that I’d just go back home.” 

“But that would put your mother at risk.” Jack tilts his head in confusion.

Kevin rolls his eyes and tosses Jack a shovel, “Come on. Let’s get this done before the sun goes down.” 

---

Three hours after sunset and they’re still digging. Jack started feeling lightheaded thirty minutes ago, and it’s gotten to the point where he needs to sit down. 

“I’m sorry, I have to--” Jack ends up thunking down on his butt before he can finish.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kevin asks warily, stopping his digging and leaning against his shovel, “Is the talisman wearing off or something?” 

“I--I don’t have a talisman,” Jack’s body is shaking and he’s starting to feel nauseous. Perhaps he should have listened to his body hours ago when it screamed at him to rest. But Kevin had kept going and he’d said he wouldn’t dig alone so…

“You don’t have an energy talisman?!” Kevin gaps at him and drops his shovel, “Are you kidding me?! You do realize you’re basically human now?” 

How could Jack forget? Being human was so difficult that it was impossible not to be reminded of it constantly. Even when he slept. He didn’t use to sleep as a Nephilim...or as God. But Amara’s taking care of that now. Letting Jack have a ‘normal childhood’ as she’d said. Something she was envious of and didn’t want Jack to miss. ‘Even Chuck let himself have one. After he invented the concept.’ when she’d told him that it was clear she was hiding a deep sadness. Jack had decided after his childhood was over, he’d take over as God again so she could have one too.  

“How are you even standing?!” 

“I’m...not.” 

Kevin looks at Jack, taking notice of the way he was starting to sway a little. Before cursing and getting down on his knees next to Jack. 

He grabs a hold of both sides of the necklace his talisman was supposedly attached to, “I’m going to regret this,” Kevin groans, before taking off the necklace and holding it out to Jack. A green light pulses from Kevin’s chest, swirling around his arm, before being sucked into the little medallion hanging from the golden chain in Kevin’s outstretched hand. 

Jack quickly takes the necklace, seeing the sudden strain in Kevin. As soon as he has it, Kevin lays back with a dull thud as his body hits the earth. 

“Oh my god,” he gasps, suddenly breathing very heavily. “Worst part about that talisman,” he pants, “After you take it off, you feel every bit of exertion. All at once. Oh, I’m gonna die.” 

Jack puts on the talisman and instantly feels better. Better than he’d felt since turning human. He wonders what would happen if you kept the necklace on all the time--

“And if you’re tingling from the charm and wondering ‘why can’t I wear this all the time,’” Kevin says in a deep mocking voice that sounded suspiciously like Dean, “Just look at me after five hours. Imagine a week, or even just a whole day.”

“It kills you?”

“It kills you.”

“I can finish this alone.” 

“Yeah, but first,” Kevin tried to sit up, grunting in pain, “Help me out of this damn hole.”

---

It had been an hour since Jack started digging by himself, making a grand total of eight hours. Just a constant monotony of stab scrape shovel. At least Jack felt pretty good with this talisman, and at least they were almost done. 

Stab, scrape, shovel. Stab scrape shovel. Stab--THUD!

Jack gasps in surprise, and Kevin leans over the opening of the hole to look down at Jack equally surprised, and elated. 

“Oh my god,” he laughs, falling back on the grass, “We finally did it,” Jack hears him say. And then he groans, “But now I have to move.”

“If I were still God I could read this. Or create new eyes that could,” Jack notes, scrapes the remaining dirt off the coffin with his hands. 

“If you were still God we probably wouldn’t even need this spell. And if we did, you could just teleport the tome out without all this bullshit.” 

A reneged sector of angels, lead by the angel Inias, had decided to declare war on all remaining prophets. They thought they could use them to find a way to spy on Amara and overthrow her from, well, Goddesshood. This was the grave of a prophet, and inside was a tome they were buried with that held a spell to make prophets invisible to angels and demons. Probably how she lived long enough to die of old age. At first Jack had been sad, thinking this would mean he wouldn’t get to see Kevin anymore. But Sam said he was pretty sure that he could rework the spell so any angels or demons that gave of their blood in the ceremony would be able to still see prophets. 

Jack hopes so.

Kevin leans his head over the grave again, wincing. “Wow, now that you’ve uncovered it, those sigils are really bright.” 

Jack agrees, though what seemed like blue glowing sigils to them wouldn’t appear at all to normal humans.

Jack opens his mouth to say so but is cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket.

“Is that Dean again?” Kevin asks tersely. 

Jack checks the caller ID and nods.

“Hand it here,” Kevin says, lunging his arm forward and down.

Jack hands over the phone and Kevin rolls back over with it, out of sight.

“Dean?” Jack hears him say. “Bring burgers and water.” A pause where Kevin must have been about to hang up because he says, “Oh, and get your asses over here.” and Jack hears a beep from the call ending. 

“Here you go,” Kevin dangles his arm over into the grave, phone in hand.

-----

They eat inside the impala--Kevin mostly chugs water at first--with the engine idling and cabin lights on. Kevin and Jack are both filthy, but Dean doesn’t mind. ‘Part of bein’ a Hunter’ he’d said. Back in the old times, Cas or Jack would clean everybody up. But seeing as they were both human now, he and Kevin were doomed to be dirt-covered.

“How did it go?” Castiel asks from the front seat, mouth half full of burger, “You didn’t run into any problems?” Castiel had been wearing his regular suit before he’d left but was now wearing a space cats hoodie he’d gotten for himself when he took Jack to Hot Topic. He must have brought it with him in the car.

Kevin stops chugging water to answer, “No ghouls, no cops, no cemetery keepers or grieving loved ones, though that last one would be unlikely seeing as she was buried three hundred years ago. Where’s my burger?”

“Got you four,” Dean grins and waggles his eyebrows. 

“I may just be able to eat that many.”

“Yeah and I’ll finish whatever you don’t. That goes for everybody.” Dean continues.

“Didn’t you just get back from a dinner date?” Kevin asks suspiciously, “Actually, if you didn’t, don’t answer, I don’t wanna know.”

“We did just get back from dinner…” Cas starts slowly. “It was, uh...fancy.” 

“Too fancy,” Dean grumbles.

“Ah. Small portion sizes.” Kevin nods, but then pauses, “Aren’t you supposed to have fifteen courses or something?”

“Yeah well, we got a call three courses in to deliver some emergency burgers.” Dean shrugs, “Prefer the burgers anyway.” 

“Jack, are you wearing an amulet?” 

Jack jerks as he realizes he forgot to take it off, “Uh oh,” he says, setting down his burger. “I think I’ve made a mistake.”

“What’s happening?” Dean asks looking around the cabin, panicked.

“Jack left an energy talisman on too long.” Cas sighs, looking sorry.

“Ohoho buddy,” Dean says into the air,  smiling but also looking kind of sorry too, and even more so when he meets Jack’s eyes. He pauses. “Yeah bud, uh, that’s gonna be a bitch to take off.” He frowns.

Jack grabs the golden chain--

“Woah, man, what are you doing?” Kevin gasps after having grabbed Jack’s arm and stopping him from taking off the talisman. 

“Will it kill me?” Jack asks everybody, suddenly nervous.

“Well, no,” Dean begins, winces, “It’s just gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Then shouldn’t I get it over with?” Jack asks, confused.

“You might pass out,” Castiel warns gently.

“You’re probably gonna wanna go with the passing out,” Kevin says, putting a bracing arm on Jack’s shoulder “It’ll suck less.”

Kevin nods at him and Jack takes that as a sign it’s time to take the talisman off. He lifts the chain up and off, and then something strange happens. 

A green light swirls from both Jack and Kevin’s chests and swirls into the amulet. 

Both of them double over. 

“Woah! You kids alright?” Dean asks, lunging a hand over the backseat to touch Jack’s back, as Castiel quickly spins out of the car and back in at Kevin’s door, holding him up, checking his eyes and tongue, he goes to stick his finger in Kevin’s ear to take his temperature before remembering he can’t do that anymore. 

“Kevin? Are you okay? Jack! Jack, are you okay?” Castiel asks urgently.

“Goddammit,” Kevin sighs, “Twice in one night, oh man I’m really gonna die.” then he looks at Castiel before reassuring, “Really, it wasn’t that bad.” Kevin turns to Jack, “How do you feel?”

“...Not that bad,” he answers truthfully.

“Hot damn.” Dean is smiling, leaning back into his seat, “Well now we know that’s a thing!” 

“It could potentially save lives,” Castiel agreed. “I’ll have Sam tell the other hunters...though this may just be a situational occurrence between a prophet and a Nephilim. Who knows really.”

“It was still pretty cool,” Dean defends. 

Castiel gets back into the car. 

“And I’m not denying that. Why do you always jump to conclusions?”

“What are you talking about ‘always?’” Dean grunts back and starts up the car, pulling out of the cemetery parking lot.

Kevin and Jack tune Dean and Cas out. 

“That was pretty cool,” Kevin says.

“Yeah,” Jack frowns, looking at his friend. “We’re going to perform the ceremony when we get back.” This may be one of the last times he ever sees or hears him again.

Kevin puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder, “It’s going to be okay. Even if we have to do it by proxy for a little while, I won’t stop being your friend. Okay?” 

Jack smiled, putting a hand on Kevin’s shoulder too, which may have been weird or awkward but seemed like the thing to do. 

Kevin smiles at Jack before patting his shoulder and saying “I’m going to pass out now.” 

Jack nods and Kevin immediately drops his head back onto his seat and starts snoring. 

Jack leans back in his own seat, feeling exhausted as well. Dean and Cas have stopped arguing and put the radio on low, laughing at j=okes here and there as they talk softly. 

The running engine and metronome light of street lamps going by, and the familiar classic rock playing all seemed to be in some sort of competition with who could lull Jack to sleep first. The sound of the impala won. 

The End

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette: Adventures at Camp-Halfblood

When Marinette arrived at camp at just six-years-old dressed in pink with pigtails in her hair and was shoved into Hermes cabin until she was claimed; most of the other campers hedged their bets on who her godly parent was.  She was a sweet girl with a cheerful deposition that could easily brighten anyone’s day. She also favored sketching and most artistic endeavors so half the campers thought Apollo was her father.

However, Marinette had an almost unnatural beauty to her that was clear from even her young age; with silky blue-ish black hair and large blue eyes that seemed to twinkle. There was a sheer adorableness to her that caused even the toughest of campers to coo. This caused some of the campers to assume Aphrodite was her mother.

 A few bet on Demeter as Marinette loved to bake. Some of Athena as how well organized and tactile the girl could be.

 Unfortunately, it would take a few years before anyone would get confirmation. And for bets to be paid out.

 As Marinette got older, she easily became the most well-liked camper; mostly because of the sweetest and kindest girl at camp. She was always there to help a friend in need, always there for someone to talk to. Hephaestus cabin liked how creative she was with her designs and always liked to offer an artistic flair to their own. While she didn’t rush towards battle as some campers did, it was clear Marinette still knew what to do with a sword. She was also creative and detailed when it came to planning attacks and defense which got her approval of the Athena cabin.

 Ares Cabin liked that she didn’t back down. Ever.  The first time Dionysus got her name wrong was legendary; it was also the last time.

 “You, mary-Anne!” The god of wine called. They were in the lunch hall “Announce to the rugrats, capture the flag is about to begin.”

 “Marinette,” The seven-year-old corrected politely with a smile on her face. “Marlene,” Dionysus waved her off.

Marinette just stared at the chubby god, her face emotionless. The hall seemed to grow a bit colder. Silence slowly took hold the campers as they watched a seven-year-old in a blue

polka-dotted sundress and pink ribbons in her hair stare down a god with unfeeling eyes as she assessed her opponent as if looking for a weakness.

 For the first time in a long time, Dionysus felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck as a small hint of fear started to turn in his stomach. And, to make matters worse, as if sensing this, his fear, a small smile appeared on the girl’s lovely face.

 “My name is Marinette,” Was all she said and turned around as skipped away.

 Dionysus nodded slowly, despite the girl not even looking. He swallowed a bit more of his coke and with a pop, he was gone, vanished. No one would see him at camp for two weeks. When he came back, from then on out, whenever he ran into the little girl again, he calls her some variation of “You girl,” “Girly” or even a “Lassie” once. It was clear that while the god was too proud to call her or anyone of the campers by their actual names, he would never mess up hers again.

 That day would forever remain in the hearts of the campers forever. When Marinette was eleven, she found out who her godly parent was.

She had been walking with Annabeth to the training yard, near the entrance of the camp, when they heard roars and a scream. Annabeth turned pale but a determined look appeared in her eyes. Marinette patted the blonde’s shoulder comfortingly. Though they were the same age, the blonde had arrived at camp a year after Marinette, and not under the best of circumstances. Grover,

Luka, Thalia, and Annabeth had been being chased by the most dangerous monsters from the underworld. Thalia hadn’t made it. It had been four years since.

 Each girl pulled out their swords, braced their shields, and raced towards the entrance of the camp. What they saw made both of them nearly throw up their breakfasts.

 Charles Beckendorf, son of Hephaestus, Laurel Victor, daughter of Nike, and Malcolm

 Pace, son of Athena were racing back to camp; different monsters hot on their tails. The three

 had been given a mission to retrieve Hephaestus’ stolen Helm. In this case, the helm was just a fancy word for solid gold, expertly carved, war helmet.

Laurel, easily the fastest girl at camp, was heavily injured and struggled with a wounded Malcolm to get to the safety of the camp borders while fending off the monsters. Charles, wearing his father’s helmet, fought valiantly and desperately to give his friends time to escape.

 “Go get help,” Marinette ordered the other girl. “Anyone you can. Find medics from Apollo cabin. Hurry.”

 It was a credit Annabeth that she didn’t hesitate to follow the direction as she raced off to seek allies.

 Marinette, on the other hand, raced the other way; out of the camp, out of the safety of the boundary line, straight to battle. She’d seen the manticore sneaking up on Charles and knew that between the Cyclopes and hellhounds swarming him, he was a dead man. Marinette rushed passed Laurel and Malcolm and was just in time as the manticore's tail moved to strike Charles, it hit Marinette’s shield.

 Fury filled her blue eyes as she began to fight: armor-less and with only a shield in one hand, a sword in the other, and a dagger on her hip, side by side with the son of Hephaestus. “Go!” She yelled at the other two demigods as she slashed at a Cyclops. As the monsters swarmed her and Charles, Marinette noted with a small bit of relief, that in the midst of the chaos of battle and her shoving her sword through the eye of a Cyclops with horrible breath, she spotted that Laurel and Malcolm crossing over the barrier.

 However, the relief died when a fearsome roar shook the very foundations of the camp and both campers to very cores.

 The creature had no legs and crawled on the ground like a snake. It was over 200 hundred feet long and had scales that glistened like armor. The monster moved like lightening and when Marinette met its eyes, for a moment she froze in sheer terror, “Drakon,” She whispered. That when she knew one or both of them were going to die. Only a child of Ares even had a remote chance of defeating it.

 “Shit,” Charles said as he killed a hellhound. Most of the monsters had been defeated. Only a few cyclopes and hellhounds remained. “Run back to camp!” He ordered. “Hurry! I’ll hold it off.”

Marinette didn’t have to even look at the black boy to know he wouldn’t stand a chance. Charles looked like he barely had enough strength left to lift his sword one more time. He was bleeding all over. He had so many injuries and wound Marinette wondered how he managed to keep himself upright.

 With a swing of her sword, Marinette finished off the last Cyclops. “Not this time,” She told the older boy. “You’re hurt really bad.” She told him. “It’ll kill you in seconds and get me before I even make it back. I’ll hold him off. I’m strong enough. I can do it.”

 “No!” Charles had started a tirade of protests. He wasn’t about to let anyone die for him, let alone a little kid who looked like she would be right at home if Disney suddenly named her one of their princesses. A girl who was nearly as battered, bruised, and bloody as he was.

 But Marinette wasn’t listening, because as soon as the moment of fear passed, she found herself charging at the Drakon, her sword ready.

 She barely dodged the monster’s first swipe at her. Her heart pounding her chest, Marinette slashes at the beast only to have her sword bounce off its scales, with not even a scratch on the Drakon. Acid dripped from its mouth burning holes into Marinette’s red shield.

 Marinette didn’t know how long she had been fighting; or rather dodging and helplessly poking a giant snake with a sword. Her arm had nearly been ripped off as she narrowly jumps out of the way of its teeth.

 Then a cry of pain sounded in her ear, and a sharp heartbreaking cry of someone screaming, “CHARLES!”

 Once more rage overtook the small bluenette and raced head on to Drakon, it’s jaws wide open to attack or possibly just eat the demigod. With a roar, Marinette launched her shield at its face. When the Drakon turned its head to bat it away, Marinette jumped forward as high as she could and rammed her sword into the Drakon’s eyes.

 The drakon reared back, letting out a terrifying shriek, sword still in its eyes as Marinette dangled from it; refusing to let go. With one hand free, Marinette pulled out her and stabbed it into the Drakon’s other eye. There was another howl of from the monster.  It swung back and

forth, but Marinette kept stabbing at its eyes. Its acid burning her arms and legs and whatever it managed to hit.

 Then, Marinette didn’t know what happened, but suddenly she was falling. Or rather the Drakon was crashing. It landed in a giant heap that caused the ground to shake. It withered on the ground, back and forth. Marinette who still clung to her sword, stood up on shaky legs, pulled

out her sword and then stabbed it again and then again as deep as it could go. Until the beast stop shaking until its last breath left its body.

 Marinette quickly pulled her sword free and turned to help her fellow demi-god Charles, only to find other campers had beat her to it. With a happy, exhausted smile, Marinette fell to her knees. The pain finally hitting her as the adrenaline wore off. Her sword slipped from her hand. She barely noticed most of the campers who turned up to help were staring at her with amazement in

their eyes. A few, who Marinette recognized as sons and daughter of Apollo, rushed towards with medical supplies.

 There was a loud, some fire in the corner of her eyes, murmurs from the crowd. There was a fiery symbol above her head, already a fading. Then Chiron (When had he arrived, Marinette wondered. She didn’t notice him a few seconds ago) stepped forward.

 “It is determined,” The centaur announced. “Hail, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of War.” That was when everything went dark for Marinette as she slipped into unconsciousness.

The next few days after that were pretty much a wash. Marinette was mostly in and out of sleep as the worst of her injuries were healed. Only when she got out of the healer’s cabin and headed towards her bunk in the Hermes’ cabin did she finally recall that she had been claimed.

 Mostly because Luke had given her an easy smile, and said, “Clarisse and her goons got your stuff already, oh fearsome Drakon slayer.” Then he pointed down another path. “Your cabin’s that way with the rest of Big Red’s kids.”

And that was that. Luke gave her a pitying look and wondered how the girl most people thought was made of sugar cookies and sunshine ended up in the cabin known for the meanest kids.

Dressed in a baby blue camp shirt, her hair still in her signature pigtails, Marinette held her held high as she walked to her new home. The young girl had never… appreciated the aesthetics of Cabin 5 whenever she had to walk by it. The kids there weren’t the friendliest, some either ignored her or picked on her so she did her best to avoid it.

Cabin 5, Ares cabin, Marinette’s cabin was painted with an angry red color. The roof was covered barbed wire, and there was a stuffed boar's head centered above the doorway. It always used to seem to stare at anyone who walked by. The grass in front of the cabin was rich and green but Marinette made sure to stay on the path as she recalled Annabeth warning her about the landmines that were buried in front of cabin 5. Only Ares kids knew where they hid.

Rock music blared loudly from the cabin; high enough to hurt someone’s ears.

Marinette braced herself as she headed up the stone steps of the cabin. With one last look around, she pushed opened the door and walked inside.

The sound of fighting and arguing and roars of the laughter hit on in the face. Two guys were wrestling in the middle of the room was which look liked a boxing ring. A few kids were cheering them on. Some kids, her siblings, were dancing in a makeshift mosh pit to the music. There were rock posters covering the wall. A giant TV that seemed to be playing whatever violent sport was on and kids were screaming at it. Weapons were thrown about everywhere. The only bright side was, it looked like Cabin 5 had its own kitchen. Everything was chaos.

Clarisse, she spotted, was arm-wrestling a boy twice her size; Sherman Yang, Marinette remembered, the mean girl second in command. While his twin brother Mark watched, declaring he had winners.

This is it, Marinette thought, this is my life now.

           She took a deep breath and went over to the head of the Cabin; Clarisse.

“Hey! I got next!” Mark quickly said again.

“Good for you,” Marinette sniped at him      

Suddenly Clarisse slammed Sherman’s hand down and stood up victorious, “Yes, sucker! Who wants some?”

           Mark moved to speak but Marinette interrupted him, “Before your next… showdown? Where can I find my room, please?”

“Can it, squirt! I’m on a roll,” Clarisse said with a quick glance at her. Then the bigger girl stopped and did a double-take. “Well, well, well; if it is in Drakon-slayer herself.” She announced or rather yelled loudly. Causing heads to turn and the music to die down. “If I hadn’t seen the take-down myself, I’d never guessed that a dainty little thing like yourself would belong here.” She said the word dainty like it was dirty.

           Marinette lifted an eyebrow, “I get by. Larger opponents have a habit of overestimating their own abilities against us dainty little things. They tend to go down fast.”

           Clarisse just snorted, “We need to work on your trash talk.” She slapped Marinette on the back. “It’ll be good to have another girl around. To busy many boys stinking up the place.”

           That was when Marinette noticed that in the entire room, including herself, there were only five, maybe six girls, all various ages and races, in comparison to upwards of twenty guys. But it was clear that they were all related. They all had the same smug, mean expressions; the same authentic large builds, most even favored the goldish red-eye color that sort of looked like flames.

“Am I the shortest one here?” Marinette shouted angrily. “What the hell! No!”

           Sherman smirked, “Not the shortest. Billie just turned seven. And you’re like a foot taller than him… For now.”

           Marinette glared and took a step forward. Only to be pulled back by Clarisse, “Beat him up later, I’ll show you your room.”

           Turned out that there was another good thing about living in the Ares cabin. Since there were so few girls, she got her own room. It was a nicely sized, just a bit bigger than her room in Paris. The walls were black and grey. There was a surprisingly comfy queen-sized bed. But other than that there was nothing. Most of her stuff was already there waiting for her. Her things were a mix of pink, purples, and frills that stood out against the backdrop.

“We don’t usually get girly-girls in our cabin,” Clarisse shrugged. “A week ago, I’d have said you wouldn’t have last a day. Then you single-handedly took down a drakon; now I’m wondering if I should be worried about my spot as head of the cabin.”

           Marinette laughed, “No interest in running this cabin; too many boys.”

“You’ll get used to having brothers,” Clarisse leaned against the door. “Or at least to the smells. Sisters are easier. We stick together. We’re already thought of as weaker, and more delicate by the morons. Show ‘em who’s boss every chance you get.”

           Marinette nodded.

“Just keep the fighting in the house,” Clarisse warned. “Outside this cabin; we’re a unit. Us versus everyone else. And we play to win.”

           Living in Cabin 5 wasn’t as bad as Marinette thought. She had to quickly make some ‘touch this and I’ll annihilate you and dance your corpse’ rules; most of which was to keep her brothers out of her room. An unspoken rule was quickly established that if Marinette was wearing something really pretty; don’t with her mess with her; she played dirty. Ryan and Hunter, two of her more troublesome brothers, quickly learned when after fighting each in a mud pit decided to ruin Marinette’s new designed sunflower dress by throwing a few mud pies at her. The fury in the small girl’s eyes sent shivers through the rest of the cabin. The next day Ryan and Hunter woke up to their skin bright pink and glittering covering their rooms.

           Her brother Troy, a blond with red eyes, learned next. Marinette's new silk top ended up having to be thrown away. Troy woke up glued to the ceiling with hair dyed purple and his eyebrows gone.

           Then there was Chase and a cashmere sweater. Chase ended up tied in a room playing Disney princess movies on reruns for hours and hours. He didn’t speak for a week after.

           Kendall and Marinette’s new purse that somehow ended up on the roof of the Apollo cabin covered in mud and who knows what else. All of the stuff she had in it was missing and had to be located. He woke up in a giant seaweed wrap strapped to a spinning board. Marinette and three of his other sisters had knives in their hands. One of his sister, Megan, started to spin the board as Marinette threw the first knife, it landed next to his head.

           The last one was Blaise, the strongest, toughest, meanest of all Ares’ sons. He thought it was a good idea to throw Marinette in the lake, while she was wearing her newest outfit designed. She had spent weeks working on it. He laughed as she stared daggers at him, soaking wet. Blaise didn’t show up at the cabin that night.

           When he finally did, it was the next morning. He was covered in dirt, and he pointed an accusing finger at Marinette, “She buried me alive!”

That was when Clarisse decided it was time to sit Marinette down, “That’s not we fight.”

           Marinette crossed her arms, “You’re right. That’s how I go to war.” She huffed. “You told me to show them who’s boss.”

“Yeah; not traumatize them!”

“I feel like you’re splitting hairs.”

           Most of her siblings left her alone after that.

Marinette had also claimed dominion over the rarely used kitchen. She baked lots of treats that seemed to get even more of her rowdier brothers to let her be.

           On the downside, she did find herself against Annabeth in capture the flag again and again. The two girls, still best friends, slowly found themselves enjoying the rivalry.

           Marinette met her father a few months later.

           During the Christmas break, Marinette found herself visiting the camp while her parents went to China to visit a sick friend of her mother’s. She had known for weeks that she’d be spending her break there and had created the perfect dress for the winter solstice. It was a mix of silvers and golds that went just below her knees and had a lace bodice.  It was her first time getting to go Olympus during the winter solstice. She only ever went to the summer one since she only spent her summers at camp.

           She stood happily in her dress as she waited for Ares cabin to depart to meet the rest of the campers to leave to go to the city.

“Let’s be real here,” Marinette smiled sweetly to her brothers who eyed her wearily. “Ruin my dress and I’ll kill you all. As far as I’m concerned you’re all to blame, the one who does the crime will just get it the worst. Clear? Good.”

           Clarisse rolled her eyes. Trust her tough as nails brother to be scared to death of their smallest sister.

           Olympus was beautiful. It was a mix of white and with grand pillars and statues everywhere. All the campers had gotten mixed up as most as found their friends on the way there. Marinette stood with Annabeth and Will, from the Apollo cabin.

           The gods were quick to greet their kids, at least the ones that had been claimed. The ones who hadn’t been greet cheerfully by a bubbly Hermes, like they were his own. The kids who knew their godly parents went to go meet them. For the first time, Marinette looked around eagerly for her own godly parent for the first time.

           She found her siblings and glided through the crowd, passed Athena, where she lost Annabeth, passed Apollo, where she lost will, and nearly passed Aphrodite when a hand reached out and grabbed hers.

           Marinette looked up at the attached hand and found Aphrodite looking at her with a smile on her face.

“I believe you are one of mine, darling,” The goddess said. “And don’t you look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

           The bluenette blushed, “Actually, my lady, I belong in another cabin.”

“Oh?” Aphrodite eyed the girl as she was confused. “Who’s cabin is that?” All the beautiful campers were hers.

“Mine!” A voice growled. Ares dressed in all black leather and wore black sunglasses, seemed to glare through them. “Let my girl go, babe! We’ll talk later.”

           The goddess of love eyed the beautiful Asian girl and the gruff warrior she knew and her mind just couldn’t compute. “She’s yours? Are you sure?” She asked but let the girl of the little girl’s hand.

           Ares snorted. “She killed a Drakon and she’s only eleven. She’s mine.”

           Marinette smiled softly at the goddess before rushing over to her brothers and sisters; listening gladly as Ares relayed some of his most recent battle stories. Unaware of the rather ridiculous image is made. A pretty little girl dressed in a silver and gold Christmas dress, surrounded by a leather-wearing, mean-faced, giant warrior that no question if someone told them they were a biker gang.

           Then it was Ares turned to listen as one by one his kids relayed the latest up and goings at camp; mostly their victories. A lot had stories about the pranks they pulled. When asked who the toughest and scariest person in their cabin was; there was the usual Clarisse, Sherman, Ryan, and Blaise but Ares was surprised to hear Marinette’s name drop a few times from his sons’ mouths.

“Powderpuff,” Ares growled towards his daughter who blinked wide innocent eyes at him. “I hear you’re tough. How do you fight dressed like all of that!” He waved at her outfit.

           Marinette crossed her arms and glared at her dad, “I don’t how. About as easy as you do dressed as Danny from Grease.”

           Silence.

           Ares and Marinette glared at each other; each willingly the other to break.

“Shit,” Clarisse whispered a curse.

           Sherman leaned toward his twin Mark, “Who are we betting on?”

           Mark shrugged, “I don’t know. Dad’s a god. But Marinette’s mean. Could go either way.”

           Ares chuckled and walked over to tower over his youngest daughter, “I ain’t your brothers. I don’t scare easily; no fear in my eyes.” He ruffled her hair. “And I don’t like frills.” Ares pulls a bit at lacy ribbons attached to his daughter’s sleeve. Unfortunately, no matter how well designed, with his strength the material ripped. Loud enough for everyone to hear.

           There gasps from her siblings.

           Marinette’s eyes slowly went from her sibling to her father.

“Can you kill a god?” Blaise asked Clarisse.

           Kendall shrugged, “Marinette’s about to find out.”

           A cold smirk appeared on Marinette’s face, “Fear! Why do people say that? In movies, when up against the bad guy? Say there not afraid to die? As if the matters. What does you being afraid have to do with anything?”

           Ares eyes his daughter curiously. He didn’t get the reaction he knew he’d have gotten if he did that to any of his other kids. For now, he let the matter drop as he decided to relay another of his war stories. Unaware of the blue eyes that would disappear from the room.

“Hey!” Ares shouted, drawing everyone’s attention. “Where’s my bike! Someone took my bike.”

           Clarisse looked around, ready to raise hell with her father and her siblings when she noticed, someone was missing. She took her a second to realize what happened. “Shit,” She whispered.

“What?” Sherman asked.

“Marinette’s missing,” Clarisse hissed.

“So?” The Asian boy shrugged, and then the words hit him. “…No. She wouldn’t.”

           Blaise, who overheard their conversation, shook his head, “She would. Marinette really liked that dress.”

“Who’d do what?” Ares growled. “You know who took my bike?”

           Clarisse sighed, hopefully, her dad didn’t kill her youngest sister, “I’ll give ya a hint; she really likes frills and you really pissed her off tonight.”

           Ares took off his glasses, and pits of fire looked out at his children, his eyes narrowed. “Marinette stole my bike?”

           Kendall nodded, “If you get to her quick enough; you might be able to stop her from painting it pink.”

“…She wouldn’t,” The god of war said darkly. There were multiple snorts from his children.

           Clarisse pinched her nose, “Does anyone know how long she’s been gone. Anything more than an hour, and that bike’s history. There will be care bears from threatening.”

           No one answered.

           Ares growled and with a pop, he was gone.

           He showed back up a couple of hours later; still no bike and look positively furious. The other gods, particularly Hephaestus, looked beyond amused. Word had spread that the Princess of Ares’ cabin, Ares’ own daughter, had stolen his bike and ran off. All because of a ripped ribbon on her dress.

           Aphrodite nodded approvingly; it was a rather stunning dress, she’d of raised Tartarus herself over it.

           When the campers returned to camp, the Ares’ cabin members came to find Marinette waiting on the bike in the middle of the boxing ring.

“Who wants to go for a ride?”

           Everyone did. They all cheered as one by one, or two by two, they rode the bike around camp.

           The next morning at breakfast, Marinette was eating with Annabeth with the door flew opened and Ares stomped in. He glared at his daughter, “BIKE. NOW!”

           Marinette placed down her toast, “I want a new dress first.” She glared at her dad.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” He towered over her.

           Marinette blinked, not a drop of fear in her, “It’s not. Until I get a replacement dress for the one you ruined. You don’t get your bike. And you’ll never find it without me.”

“Marinette!” Ares roared.

“DAD!” Marinette yelled back.

           The campers could only watch as the strangest scene to ever hit Camp half-blood played out in front of them.

“I! You! GRR!” Ares howled before stumped away.

           It took a week and three more public confrontations for Ares to finally give in and ask Aphrodite to get his daughter a dress.

“Here, princess!” he shoved it at her.

           Marinette nodded, left the lunch hall, and returned with the bike; same as it ever was, apart from the red bow ribbons attached to it.

           Ares scoffed at the sighted, nodded at his daughter and was gone. He’d return two days later to hang out with his kids in their cabin. His bike parked out in front; a single red ribbon still tied a handlebar.

           From then on the campers knew one thing…

           Never mess with the Princess of War.

           Almost two years later, after thirteen-year-old Marinette would receive a pair of earrings and new destiny, all of Paris would learn the same lesson.

[haunted-by-catholic-guilt]

Cumbersome And Heavy Body

Jon was born hurting.

Well, that was an exaggeration, but he did have chronic pain for as long as he could remember.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- TW FOR INTERNALIZED ABLEISM

i think thats all this has been in my folder for ages

yeah the title is from a mother mother song don't @ me

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Jon was born hurting.

Well, that was an exaggeration, but he did have chronic pain for as long as he could remember.

He was diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and fibromyalgia at age 26, after ten years of progressing symptoms and a lot of pushing from Georgie.

He had started using a cane that same year, after one too many falls for his liking.

He was embarrassed, of course, being as young as he was and needing to use it, but after much reassuring from Georgie, and the pure pain he was in, he finally did it.

He wore braces sometimes, but found that the cane was much to.. showy already that he wasn’t well.

No one at the institute seemed to care, second glances, some odd comments on the rare occasion.

On his first day as head archivist, he looked down to the archives, a steep, jagged set of stairs in his path.

Fuck.

He sighed and painstakingly slowly made his way down the stairs, he was early, and no one saw him, thank god for that.

It continues on like that for a while, going into work early, leaving late, not leaving for lunch.

It worries Martin, and Martin makes that clear.

Jon does not like Martin.

The dog in the archives for one, his constantly late work, his penmanship, his lack of basic knowledge, his frequent interruptions-

Jon could go on and on about why he hates Martin Blackwood, and he makes sure Martin knows.

It does not stop Martins’s worry, or his kindness, and that’s what Jon hates the most.

Jon tries to calmly hate Martin, scarcely snapping at him, and very rarely raising his voice, at anyone, really.

Today, however, Jon had woken up in some of the worse pain he had felt in a long time, something more than the normal bad pain.

His joints were burning, and it was expanding into an ache around them, his skin stung at any small touch, and a stinging pain threads its way through his veins.

Despite this, Jon still went into work, having to stop every few steps to catch his breath, and regroup.

He got in early and locked himself in his office, not talking to anyone and hoping it would stay that way.

But of course, Martin couldn’t give him that, could he?

A soft knock on the door, more for courtesy than asking for permission, Jon had learned.

“Goodmorning, Jon! I brought you tea-“

Jon felt anger rise and boil over before he could stop it, he slammed his hand on his desk, which did not help his pain but that was the least of the issues at hand.

“Damnit, Martin! I don’t want your goddamn tea, I don’t want to talk to you, please for the love of God leave me alone and do your goddamn work well for once? If your performance does not improve soon I will have you fired. And stop getting in the way.

He was yelling, he didn’t mean to yell, but he was.

Martin was pale and shaking, he looked like he was about to cry, and Tim and Sasha had gone dead quiet outside of his office.

Martin cleared his throat, and quickly pulled himself back together.

“R-right I’ll jus- I’ll be going.”

Martin closed the door, and Jon sagged into his chair.

He was going to pay for this, he lost his temper and now he was going to pay for it.

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

Martin closed the door to Jon’s office, and it took all he had not to start crying right then and there.

He inhaled shakily, and glanced into the break room, where Sasha and Tim were currently quiet, and staring at him.

Shit.

Tim was the first to move, quickly moving to Martin and then ushering him into the breakroom and sat him down at the table, and Sasha gently pried the tea out of his shaking hands, but he hardly noticed, being too focused on not crying.

He heard Tim talking, his voice was loud and sounded angry, and Sasha was stroking his arm but sounded pissed.

He didn’t hear anything that was being said, he just stared forward, feeling the tears prickle at his eyes, he didn’t even realize he had finally started crying until Sasha cooed, and ran her thumb over his cheek, wiping away the tears.

“Oh Martin, I’m so sorry.”

He quickly shook his head, it was his own fault, no one needed to apologize.

“N-No it’s alright, I’m fine just uh- over sensitive is all, I’m sorry.”

Tim huffed and patted his shoulder, and walked away, not giving any indication of where he was going, but Martin and Sasha both knew, Martin tried to stop him, though.

“Tim you don’t- Tim!”

His attempt was futile and the door was already open and being slammed again.

He let out a shaky sigh and put his head on the table before he stood back up.

“Well I should probably get back to work”

He let out a quiet heh, and Sasha looked displeased.

“Martin, love, it’s ok that you’re upset by that, he was an ass.”

Martin forced a laugh, but reassured her he was fine, and went back to work.

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

Jon hissed out a sigh, Tim was right.

He was just graced with quite the telling off from an extraordinarily angered Tim, which he completely deserved, some of the highlights included his selfishness, him being a jerk to Martin for no fair reason, and many, many, other things.

He didn’t try to fight back, he knew he deserved it, but he also couldn’t bring himself to talk at all.

His blood was boiling with pain, and his joints had become stiff with aching, he felt like he had been struck by lightning.

Jon sighed, and stood up, he knew he needed to apologize to Martin, the sooner the better, but before he could do anything, everything went black.

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

It had been about half an hour since the incident, Tim having spent the larger part of it chewing out Jon, when they heard a crash from Jon’s office.

“Shit”

Tim scowled but he and Martin rushed into Jons office you see him on the floor, unconscious, Martin quickly knelt by him, and grabbed his wrist.

“He doesn’t have a temperature, but his heart rate is fast”

Tim crouched down next to the small man’s unconscious form, before Martin seemed to get an idea.

“Tim, can you set his legs on your lap? Elevation might help.”

He couldn’t comprehend how Martin was still this caring to Jon who not even an hour earlier yelled such nasty things at him, but he did as he was asked.

After a few minutes, Jon started to stir, and opened his eyes, he looked confused for a second, but then revelation hit him.

“Oh- Martin I- I’m so sorry”

Martin smiled, a sad smile, but Tim could tell he was hurt and wouldn’t say anything.

“It’s quite alright Jon, are you okay?”

Jon shifted a little, before realizing his feet were being held, he smiled sheepishly and wiggled out of Tim’s grasp.

“I’m okay, it happens sometimes.”

Martins brow furrowed and despite himself, Tim felt worry blossom in him too.

“It shouldn’t happen, have you gone to a doctor?”

Jon nodded, and began to pull himself off of the floor, and Martin shot up immediately, eager to help, where Tim slowly stood up.

“Yes, it’s fine, Martin.”

Martin helped Jon sit down at his desk, and looked down, still embarrassed about earlier, Tim supposed.  

“Come on boss, the least you can do is tell Martin why you yelled at him and then fainted.”

Martin made a noise, and stuttered.

“Tim, that is not necessary! If he doesn’t want to tell us he doesn’t need to”

Jon knew he should tell them, should tell them ‘sometimes I pass out, it’s one of the many symptoms of my chronic illnesses!’ but he doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to be seen as fragile, and weak.

“Martin I’m so sorry for yelling earlier, I’m not feeling my best and I took it out on you, but I shouldn’t have”

This time Martin looks up at Jon and looks surprised by a genuine apology.

“It’s alright Jon, really.”

Tim looked like he was about to fight it, but Jon felt a burst of pain from his knee, and let out a whimper despite himself.

“Jon? Are you alright?”

He gritted his teeth and nodded.

“Jon I can tell you’re not, what’s going on?”

Jon sighed, and wrong his hands, anxious for reasons he didn’t understand.

“It’s fine. I just- I have a- a chronic illness, and one of the symptoms of one of them is sometimes when I stand up, or sit up, I get dizzy and sometimes faint, I’m fine really, I just prefer to keep it to myself.”

He twisted his hands again, uncomfortable but Martin put his hand on Jon’s, clearly in a gesture of comfort.

“I- I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and Fibromyalgia, my joints aren’t right, too flimsy and bendy, more things too… and my pain varies, but it’s always there and I use the cane to help balance, and no I don’t need your pity or to be treated like I’m fragile just because I’m disabled, it’s just there.”

He looked up to see Martin smiling softly at him, and Tim looking surprised, and Sasha, who had apparently shown up without his knowledge, was leaning against the doorframe.

“Jon, we‘re not going to treat you differently now that we know what’s wrong with you, it can just make it easier for us to, you know, help you!”

Sasha’s voice was soft and reassuring, and she stepped into the room further, and Tim spoke up.

“Boss, you really gotta stop hiding information from us like, ya know, the fact that sometimes you pass out, or you’re going to give poor Martin an early heart attack”

Martin blushed and stammered at that statement, before moving his hand to Jon’s shoulder.

“Jon, I’m glad you told us, I know it can be hard to be open about those things.”

Jon nodded, and slowly started to push himself off the floor, and Martin immediately started to help him up, Tim grabbed his cane from where it had fallen, offering it to him.

“Let us help you, boss, we are a team after all, aren’t we?”

Jon smiled and nodded, and for a second, felt okay.

[moonflower-31]

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist 

Part 17  

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: Wounds, Blaming ones self, etc. 

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The car stopped a few moments later, not giving any sort of indication as to where they were. Derek cursed softly, unable to tell where they were only by sight. He only knew they were somewhere in rural West Virginia. He had seen a sign near a fork in the road that showed him a town name he knew to be in West Virginia. So at least he knew there was civilization. 

"Out, both of you. And don't even think 'bout running." Peter scolded you. You had been silent the entire car ride, knowing what Peter planned to do with you before he could announce it. 

You got out of the car slowly, unable to convince your body to move any faster. Unfortunately, this message wasn't broadcasted to your captor, who put a stop to your 'laziness' quickly.  

Peter’s hand collided with your back and a fist gripped your hair by the roots, pulling your head back harshly. You would've normally loved having your hair pulled by a partner. But not him. Never him. 

"Faster, dammit! I don't have all damn day!" Peter scolded. You felt exhausted just from the verbal abuse. He finally let go, shoving you forward. Your door had already been open, so when he pushed you you fell from the car and landed in the gravel. A few stones dug into your palms and a few others into your arms and shins. 

"Great, see this is why you're such a damn cunt. You're useless unless it involves putting out. Such a damn whore." Peter gritted his teeth. 

Derek felt nauseous and disgusted by Peter’s actions, hurrying as fast as his knee would let him to your side once he was out of the car. 

A hand shoved him away, causing him to stumble. "Stay the fuck away from her. You aren't to touch her. Ever. Understand?" Peter hissed. Morgan felt bile building in his stomach. He had always dealt with guys like this in cases, but he'd never been a victim. He could completely empathize with the fear that they felt now. 

"L-leave him alone, Peter." You cough, spitting out a pebble that had entered your mouth. Peter growled and gripped Morgan’s shoulder tightly.  

"Or what? You fight back, I'll dislocate his shoulder. You run away, I kill him. I thought we went over the rules, pet?"

Peter sauntered over to you, and kicked your stomach, causing you to cough violently. "You shouldn't have left, pet. Then just maybe your brother would still be alive. Maybe you wouldn't be in pain right now. You'd have little ones to keep you company. But you left." Peter sneered, delivering another harsh kick to your abdomen, stepping on your chest when you landed on your back. You had blood on your cheeks and in the corner of your mouth from the abuse, feeling weaker with each kick. 

"Come on, (Y/N)! Don't worry about me dammit! Fight back!" Morgan called, finally freeing his hands from the knot he had been working to get off of his wrists. 

"Why don't you tell him why you won't fight back, hm? Tell him why even after learning to defend yourself in many different ways, you won't fight me?" Peter gritted his teeth, smirking down at your helpless form. 

You already had tears in your eyes. You knew he had to be lying about your brother. But even then, he was still in danger. Everyone you knew was in danger if you fought back. You coughed and looked over at Morgan weakly. 

"Because, everyone would get hurt. N-not just you. E-everyone…" you sputter. Morgan straightened his lips into a strained line, watching you helplessly. If he pursued Peter, he'd get another injury. Then what help would he be to you? 

"That's right. Now, mr. Derek Morgan. Why aren't you playing hero and knocking me out? Isn't that what ladies love? The hero?" Peter asks evilly. 

"D‐don't… don't answer… D-derek please-" you beg. Peter growled and pressed harder with his foot on your chest. 

"You don't speak unless spoken to, bitch." 

Peter turned his head and looked towards Morgan. He smirked and tossed him a ring of keys. "Since you have open hands, unlock that door over there. The dark wooden one." He demanded. 

Derek gripped the metal ring in his hands, glaring at Peter. "And say I don't?" He asks. 

Peter rolled his eyes and pulled out a gun from his back. "She dies. And then you do." Peter threatens, putting the gun barrel against your temple. You swallow and stare at Morgan, shaking your head gently. 

Morgan sighed and gripped the keys in his hands. He then wandered over to the cellar-like door and unlocked it once he found the right key. 

"There." Morgan deadpans, tossing them back to Peter in an attempt to avoid yet another conflict. 

Peter catches them in his hand, a dirty smile on his face. "Finally learning your place. It's about time, D." 

Derek fought off a growl. He hated that nickname. Anything Garcia came up with was fine. Hell, he'd accept Der. But not that. Never that. 

Peter pulled you up by your hair and shoved you forward. "Get inside. Now." 

Your head was tender now with how harshly he was gripping your hair. It almost felt like he was pulling your hair out. You bit back a whimper and got to your feet, barely able to see in front of you from all the previous abuse you endured. 

You entered the small cellar cut out of the mountain, finding the smell to be revolting. Whatever had been in here before you had died. And knowing Peter? They probably did. 

You entered and stood still, waiting for your next instruction. Morgan watched you with pity in his eyes, trying to refrain from speaking. 

"Go put those chains on her. Then put the other set on yourself." Peter growled into Morgan’s ear. Morgan felt his anger boiling hotter in his veins, but after what he had caused before, he wasn't going to risk it. 

Morgan entered the cellar and gripped your wrists. You gave him a reassuring look, and laid yourself onto the ground. You propped up against the rock, holding out your wrists for him. Morgan gritted his teeth and clamped the first shackle around your left wrist, soon repeating it with your right. 

"Good, now you do it yourself. I can't have you open to touching her." Peter sneered, pushing Morgan towards the right wall of the cellar. He was to your right, and you were to his left. But just far enough away that you could only reach up to his knee. His restraints were much tighter than yours, making you feel terrible. He didn't deserve to be involved in this because of you. 

Peter twirled the keys with his finger a few times before he put them on a hook. "I'll be back. Can't have the mother of my children starving, now can I?" He asks, glaring at you expectantly. You felt the pit in your stomach grow, but you didn't say anything. 

Peter turned around and exited the cellar, slamming the cellar door behind him. You jumped slightly and squeezed your eyes shut. 

Both of you stayed quiet for a good few minutes. The silence was unbearable, knowing so much about yourself was just revealed. You pulled your knees close and took a heavy sigh, knowing Derek would be asking questions soon. 

"Go ahead… ask away." You murmured, feeling exhausted and tired of staying awake. 

He took a few moments, but eventually asked "Are you okay?" 

You chuckle weakly, leaning your aching head against the harsh stone wall of the cellar. "That wasn't what I meant." 

"Well too bad, kid. But really, are you okay? He didn't hurt you too bad, did he?" Derek asked. You shook your head, never looking down from the ceiling as you let out a sarcastic and tired laugh. 

"My stalker just took you along with me when you have nothing to do with this. He just made you lock me up to try and get me to hate you, and he plans on trying to get me pregnant. Whether I want it or not. And knowing him he'll do it in front of you t-too." You whimper, your voice cracking as you squeeze your eyes shut and let yourself cry. 

"Kid… don't think like that. Without me you'd have to deal with this asshole all on your own. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let him hurt you like that. I don't care if both of my legs get shot up." Morgan huffs. 

You let a small smile come onto your face. He was such a good friend. For him to not regret walking you to your car. For him to not want to leave you here. 

"Speaking of which, I should probably get that bullet out." 

"What? (Y/N) you heard him, kid. If I touch you he-" Morgan began. 

"He said if you touch me. He never said if I touched you." You insist and allow yourself to pull him slightly closer so you could treat his wound. 

Morgan stayed silent as he watched you, bracing himself for the pain. You looked up at him pitifully before you dug into his leg gently and pulled out the bullet that had thankfully not gone in too far. 

You looked up again, seeing Morgan’s grimace as he held his head against the wall. "There, I'm sorry. It was gonna hurt no matter what." 

"Don't apologize, dammit. It's that son of a bitch's fault for shooting me in the first place." He groaned in slight relief of his wound being empty. 

You shrugged off your jacket, ripping the sleeves to get it completely off of you. Morgan raised an eyebrow at you, but soon figured out what you were doing once you tore a sleeve off and wrapped it around his knee. 

"There. Just don't move it a ton." You advise, sighing gently as you backed yourself against the wall again. 

"Kid… we're gonna get out of here. Hotch, Prentiss, Reid, they're gonna find us. You know that pretty boy won't let you stay missing." Morgan chuckles somewhat. You appreciated the attempt at cheering you up, but at that moment, all you wanted was to sleep. Pass time until the devil came back and made you eat something probably packed with nutrition for a pregnant woman. 

"Derek… even then. He's gonna try in a couple days. A week at most. And he's gonna figure out I got an implant. Any pregnancy won't be viable." You alert him. "And once he does, he'll dig it out of me. And try again." 

Morgan stared at you in disbelief, unable to believe you'd know all of this was going to happen. "Wha-how-?" He began to ask. 

"You forget that I was 'engaged' to him for a year. I know him because he made me stay by his side almost 24/7. So I know how he thinks. How he behaves. And that he rarely ever lies." 

You sighed and laid a hand on your stomach. "And if he ever does, we're screwed."

○●♡●○ 

A few days later, they thankfully were getting somewhere. 

 "Hotch, do you have that list of his properties? I wanna go over them and put them in the geographical profile." Spencer urged. 

Hotch raised an eyebrow at the mention of his name and nodded. "Sure, I'll have Garcia print them out for you. Anything else you need?" 

"No, I plan on analyzing the letter again, trying to see if I can gather something from the way he writes, his grammar, how hard he presses on the paper-" 

"Understood, Reid. Get to it as soon as you can. But please, don't overwork yourself. You've been here since 4 this morning." Hotch warned. 

"I'm fine Hotch. Just trying to find them." He quickly answers, walking away from him and quickly heading towards Garcia's cave. 

If he were to tell the truth, he hadn't truly let himself rest. He hadn't so that he wouldn't wallow in the guilt he felt for your kidnapping. No matter how much JJ, Prentiss, Garcia, or even Hotch tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that had he not left without you, you would still be here. 

Spencer knocked on Garcia's door, taking a deep breath as he braced himself to face a very upset Garcia. 

The door swung open almost as soon as his first knock completed. Garcia looked up at him with worried eyes, almost on the brink of tears. "Please tell me you guys have a lead, because I am losing hope here and when I lose hope I eat ice cream and I can't do that here." 

"We don't know yet. But I was asking if you could print me that list of properties. And any clients of his that tried to sue him." Spencer asked. 

"What would that be for? He took (Y/N)!" Garcia asks. 

"I want to get a better understanding of what he's like. How he'll react to us going after him. I can't risk him hurting her because we made it overt that we were pursuing him." 

Garcia sighed and nodded. "Okay… I can get that for you. Just watch the printer and you'll find it." 

Spencer nodded and began to leave, turning around once more for a moment. 

"Garcia," he started. 

"Yes, Genius?" She asks with an exhausted sigh. 

"Do you… do you think you could open up her file?" 

"What do you mean?" Garcia asks. 

"I-I mean, maybe there's something there she… she forgot to tell me. Maybe I can find something there that tells me something about him." Spencer expressed. Garcia smiled gently at him and nodded. 

"I'll just add that to the print list and I'll get it to you as soon as I can. Godspeed. Now out before I cry at how pitiful you look." She says with a sad tone to her voice. She gestures and almost pushes him out, making him chuckle gently. 

Spencer shook his head and headed towards the printer to wait for his papers. 

○●♡●○ 

Spencer connected the properties, finding no real apparent pattern. He had already scoured over the letter a few dozen times, but was still waiting on your file. He circled an area in the middle of the map where Peter's main property was. That was the only thing he could find. None of these properties contained any sort of cellar or basement. Which was weird, considering the amount of money spent making these homes. Not even his own property had one. So none of the properties were viable to search. And they were all in a separate city and state entirely. Spencer realized he should have had Garcia narrow it down to Virginia properties. Or at the very least the tri state area. It had been a few days, and they had only received a location from Morgan’s phone once, and it proved them to be somewhere in-between Virginia and West Virginia. 

Spencer turned around and walked back over to the letter and tried to look over it again. Most of the language was possessive. He used plenty of 'me, my, mine,' and plenty of future tense. And the graphite was pressed into the paper pretty hard. So he was angry when he wrote this. 

Then his phone rang. Spencer widened his eyes and immediately answered it, hoping it to be one of the clients he had called. 

"Spencer?" 

Spencer was suddenly taken aback and found his concentration fall apart. "Mom?" He asks. 

"Spencer, how are you? I didn't expect you to answer my call this late." Diana asked. 

Spencer rubbed his face and felt an ache in his chest add to the rest of the weight he was carrying. "I… I'm fine Mom. Just… we have a really stressful case and I'm stuck on finding an answer." Spencer explained in as simple terms as he could. He suddenly realized why his mother was calling, and felt immediately guilty. 

"I'm so sorry about the letters. I would have sent them had this case not gotten so… personal." Spencer rubbed his forehead, suddenly feeling the weight of the bags of his eyes. 

"I can't tell you what to do, but I can tell you that she wouldn't want you blaming yourself." Diana replied. 

Spencer widened his eyes for a moment and blinked a few times. "H-how did-" 

"Crash, you've never acted like this before, unless it was about a girl you said you liked. Which was rare. But I still remember when you said you liked that…What exactly was her name?" Diana asked. 

"I don't want to remember, Mom. She…" Spencer sighed. "There's just a lot of things I have to figure out. They're all relying on me. She's relying on me to find her. I just…" 

"Don't want to let her down?" Diana finishes. 

Spencer sighs. "Yeah." 

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip, failing at his attempt not to cry. He wiped his eyes and inhaled sharply as he looked up. 

"Mom, I love her." 

Garcia walked into the room soon after, a grim look on her face. Spencer narrowed his eyebrows and looked up at her, mouthing 'What is it?' 

Garcia gave him a warning, uneasy look. Spencer sighed. 

"I actually gotta go. I'll call you when I get home." Spencer promised, letting his mother say goodbye before he hung up.  

"Did you get her file?" He asks, standing up and facing her. Garcia nodded wordlessly. Spencer tilted his head and looked at Garcia unsure. 

"Is there something in it I didn't know about?" He asks, looking at the manila folder in her hands. He stared at it, wondering what could be inside it that would make Garcia act like this. What terrible thing in your history would be that bad? He already knew the bad and the ugly, right?

Garcia took a deep breath. "Let's just say there's a lot to unpack in here. Like, a truckload. And not one bit of it is good." 

[samstree]

You are too well tangled in my soul (5/5)

(Geraskier, 1.6k, time travel, hurt/comfort, soft geralt, now complete, cw: mentions of abuse)

Inspired by The Time Traveler’s Wife. 

Read on AO3

Yennefer comes in a whirlwind of buzzing magic, a portal opening up in the middle of the empty courtyard, blowing up the melting snow everywhere.

Of course she can come through the protective ward around the keep like it’s nothing.

She steps onto the ground of Kaer Morhen with her usual poise, all shiny raven curls and sparkling eyeshadows, breathtaking as ever. Only her proud demeanor shifts into something marginally softer when those enchanting violet eyes fall on Ciri.

The princess approaches the sorceress in tentative steps, before picking up the pace and running into her embrace. Yennefer is visibly taken aback by the sheer force of it but soon gives back a loose hug. The girl, being a head shorter than Yennefer, steps back and smiles brightly.

“I saw you in my dreams.”

Those violet eyes become more curious.

Beside Jaskier, Geralt’s voice rumbles deeply. “Yen, this is Ciri. My Child Surprise.”

The corner of her lips quicks up. “Nice to meet you, Ciri.”

*

In the main hall, Jaskier sits in front of the fire and watches the three of them talk quietly at the table.

A lost princess with immeasurable chaos in her body, a witcher who protects humanity with nothing but two swords on his back, and a sorceress so powerful she scorched an entire Nilfgaardian army all by herself.

They make a perfect family, beautiful, powerful, and well-matched.

Lost in thoughts and the wine in his cup, Jaskier never notices the young princess going off to sword lessons with Vesemir or even Geralt settling down on the thick carpet next to him.

The witcher adjusts the blanket draped on Jaskier’s knees absent-mindedly. “By the way, Yen, what did you think of our ward?”

“It’d be a good idea.” The sorceress looks down at Geralt, posture elegant from the vantage point of the chair. Her hand flattens the folded wrinkles on her embroidered dress. “Don’t worry, Geralt. I’ll enhance it for you so no mage can get through. You child will be safe in here.”

Geralt’s voice turns solemn. “Thank you, Yen. And thank you for coming.”

“I came for her.” Yennefer’s gaze studies Geralt up and down with a piercing curiosity, and softens ever so slightly. “Fatherhood looks good on you.”

Geralt hums without answering.

“Did you ever doubt destiny’s decision?” Jaskier challenges her, regrettably drawing attention to himself.

Yennefer finally looks at Jaskier for the first time since she arrived, amusement creeping into her expression. Geralt sighs long-sufferingly next to Jaskier, braced for the usual snarky jabs between these two.

“Bard.”

“Witch.”

Yennefer raises an eyebrow. “The gray hair suits you.”

“Not being tortured by Nilfgaard suits you.”

From his peripheral, Jaskier sees Geralt tense but keeps his eyes on the sorceress. Framed by the flickering candlelight, everything beautiful about her now is a sharp contrast to the last time Jaskier saw her – tied up, depleted of magic, and covered in blood.

Her lips curve dangerously. “Still saved your sorry ass, didn’t I?”

This time when Jaskier returns her smile, it’s genuine. “You are right about that one. I never got to show any gratitude.” Geralt’s questioning gaze is burning a hole on Jaskier, but he’ll have to wait. Jaskier continues the peace-offering. “So thank you, really. It’s good to see you again, Yen.”

“Don’t call me that.” She takes a jab at him but there’s no malice. “And destiny often makes shit decisions. You should know.”

Yennefer looks between the two of them and Jaskier’s breath hitches. Somehow the sorceress knows about their bond. Jaskier turns to look at an equally startled Geralt. “Did you tell her?”

“Oh, please,” She cuts in, “The temporal magic is all over you two. I felt it the day you first barged through my door.” She pulls a sealed letter out of nowhere and holds it before Jaskier’s face. “I only meant this.”

The Pankratz insignia carves into the scarlet wax seal.

The buzzing of the world drowns Jaskier’s heartbeat. It’s been years since he received news from home. Distantly, he knows Geralt is asking if he’s alright, the warmth from the witcher’s large hand seeps through the fabric on his back.

He reaches for the letter and tears through the seal in an instant, and pauses.

“You know what it says.”

“The news traveled faster than a letter.” Yennefer offers a tight smile. “My condolences, Jaskier.”

*

Jaskier is perched on their shared bed while Geralt paces around the room. He clutches the thin piece of paper, reading the words again even if he’s stared at them for so long they’ve begun to blur.

…Alfred Pankratz, Count de Lettenhove, passed away in his sleep three days ago.

Taking a deep breath, Jaskier rubs his eyes when they lose focus, and that’s when he notices how stiff his joints are for staying in the same place for too long.

He blinks and Geralt has come to sit next to him on the mattress, gently prying the letter away from Jaskier’s tense fingers. His knuckles are turning white for gripping it so tightly.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Shaking his head, Jaskier buries his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, who instinctively wraps an arm around him. “I don’t know.” He adds, “Not yet.”

“I’m sorry,” Geralt murmurs.

“Why?” Jaskier nuzzles, seeking comfort. “You never had kind words for the man.”

The pain from childhood flares up again. Memories of sitting by the lake crying and nursing his hurt as a child almost make panic bubble up Jaskier’s throat. He has to calm down by focusing on Geralt’s solid touch and the rise and fall of his breathing.

It does the trick, as always.

“You still mourn him, despite everything.” Geralt answers, drawing circles on Jaskier’s back slowly.

Jaskier lets out a tight chuckle. “I should hate him, and maybe I did for many years. But…in the end, he was just my father.”

They sit in silence. Jaskier melts into Geralt’s continued soothing touches, letting reality sink in. A plan comes together in his head.

“I should go back.”

“To Lettenhove?” The movement on Jaskier’s back stops.

When Jaskier pulls back, there’s apprehension in Geralt’s eyes. His brows furrow in distress so Jaskier eases it away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m still the heir. There are things that require seeing to. I don’t want his title, so I’ll have to be there to renounce it. The estate and all the fortune will go to my cousin – Ferrant is quite a natural leader. He will do well being the head of the family. As for my mother, she’ll want to see me. It’s been too long since I wrote her.”

Geralt frowns again at the idea but reluctantly agrees after a moment.

“I don’t like the idea of you being back there.”

“Oh don’t you worry, my love,” Jaskier says. “It just got me thinking. My father died and they didn’t even have a way of reaching me. If Yennefer hadn’t come across this funeral invite at some random court I would still be in the dark. Not that I’ll be back in time for the funeral of course. It takes too many days just to get down this mountain. Still, it could be nice to see my family again. I’ll be fine, really.”

“Hmm.” Geralt runs his fingers through the hair at Jaskier’s temple, where he knows a strand is peppered with silver as Yennefer so kindly pointed out. “Speaking of. Since when are you best friends with Yen?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jaskier teases him. “I’m sure you’ll have all the time in the world to get the story out of her, now that she’s around to give Ciri magic lessons. I’m sure she won’t paint me in a heroic light in our little Nilfgaardian prison adventure. Too bad I won’t be there to save my image.”

“Jask.” Geralt blinks, taking Jaskier’s wrist in a gentle hold. “You know I’m going with you, right? You are not going alone.”

“But Ciri’s training…”

“Yen is taking her to a safe house just outside of Novigrad. Triss will be there too. The chaos Ciri carries is raw power. It’s so complicated they’ll be lucky to figure it out within a couple of months.”

“Don’t you need to go as well? To stay with them and protect your daughter?”

Geralt smiles at the word daughter. No matter how many times everyone or even Ciri herself uses it, the word still brings him so much joy.

“I’ve had her all winter, taught her a lot about being a witcher. Now she needs to learn from real magic users. Besides, I think she’s getting tired of being cooped up with five men for this long. Staying with the ladies might do her good.”

Jaskier stares at the warmth flowing in those ember eyes, suddenly feeling lighter like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He doesn’t have to do this alone.

“You’ll come with me,” he muses the sentence.

“You’re hurting, Jask. I would never leave you like this.” Geralt’s tone is so casual it’s like he’s stating the weather. Gods, this ridiculous man has no right to make Jaskier’s heart swell three sizes like this.

He picks up Geralt’s hand and presses a kiss to his calloused palm. “We’ll go straight to Novigrad soon as business finishes at home. Even I’ll miss her too much.”

Jaskier gets pull into Geralt’s embrace again, breathing in the smell of the chamomile soap he insists on the witcher during baths. It feels like Geralt is marked by him somehow, covered in his signature scent.

“I love you, Jask.”

“Mm-hmm. Enough to face all the nobles for me.”

Geralt hums, perhaps surprised.

“You know there’s gonna be a lot of them, right? Many will be there to pay respect. I’m a noble, in case you forgot. If you can barely tolerate me, imagine the chaos when we get there.”

The laugh rumbles deep in Geralt’s chest, and soft lips press on Jaskier’s hairline at his temple.

“Only for you, Jaskier.”

*

(Feedbacks are much appreciated! Tell me what you think of it!)

[lisinfleur]

Midwife?

The request:

Author’s Notes | I don’t really believe Ivar would know what to do, but I think it’s funny to have a man of that times narrating such an unknown moment for them! 

Universe | Vikings

Pairing | Ivar x Reader

Info | Viking Age AU, requested by @sallydelys​ for 5CW7

Words | 1992

⁑ Warnings: Mentions of blood, graphic description of labor and childbirth. Keep in mind that this document may contain clinical/medical mistakes.

Middle Winter.

How the hell did I come up to get my wife heavily pregnant right in the middle of the Winter?

Y/N was swollen like a balloon, ready to pop. And I was nervous as fuck with the proximity of that event. Our firstborn child.

Something I never thought could be possible.

"Where is daddy?"

Shit.

I had called Floki through a slave that left what... three hours before the snow started falling outside again? I could bet Floki wouldn't come and I would have one less slave in my house cause that girl would end up frozen outside my house. Damn snow!

"He was supposed to be here already, love, but the snow started falling outside again. I think we may have to wait a little longer."

"I want my dad..." she cried.

Shit. Again.

Y/N was my everything. My queen, the love of my life, my first, my one, and only. But fuck... Since she got pregnant, she was completely changed, every day acting with a different mood... She was driving me crazy!

Mom told me it was the pregnancy, that I should be patient. But things sometimes would run out of my control and we would fight for hours! Just to end up with her tightly embraced on me, saying she could never live without me as much as I couldn't imagine my life without my Y/N.

Things didn't get better with the Winter arriving and her final months making her less able to move around. She wanted to walk, to go out, but the midwife told her to stay more inside the house since she started feeling dizzy once again. There was built the battlefield: she even tried to sneak out of my sight once! Imagine how good it was to have to bring my wife back home, crying because she wasn't able to reach the central square and almost fell in the middle of the way.

Since then, we thought it would be safer to be with her at Floki's cabin. Floki could help me to take a look at her, Helga could help me to keep her entertained. Their slaves could do everything for us and she would be safe when the time to give birth has come. Perfect!

If Bjorn didn't have decided to ask for a bunch of boats in the middle of the fucking Winter.

I would castrate my brother if I could! Why the fucking damn heck did Björn wanted to navigate the gods' damn sea in the middle of the freezing Winter? Couldn't he fucking wait my wife to give birth before taking Floki out of our cabin right in the day Helga said she finished my mother's dress and had to leave too?

Now we were completely alone and my little precious balloon was sadly mourning around because somehow, she wasn't feeling well and wanted her father exactly when he couldn't be there for her.

"Babe, you shouldn't be out of the bed," I complained, walking towards her when she sprouted at the living room's door, in her nightgown, walking slow like a little swollen duck.

My charming swollen duck I loved so badly.

"But Ivar... I'm not feeling well. I don't wanna stay in bed. The baby's feet are on my ribs and I can't breathe," she complained when I slowly started guiding her into our room once again.

"I know. So, we can walk a little through our room ok? Come," I insisted, ready to open the door when she held herself on the wall, pressing my shoulder with the other hand and moaning in a tone I didn't want to hear in a million years.

Her body bent forward and she let go of the wall to touch her belly.

She was in pain...

Her eyes, full of fear found mine, full of affliction.

And then, that happened.

A small moment of silence before a wet sound denounced the water flowing in the middle of her legs, making a poll around her feet.

"Ivar..." she mumbled.

"Fuck!" I answered.  

Right before she bent once again, this time, growling in pain.

"Fuck!!" I cursed again, trying to guide her with me to the bed.

Cursing my legs for not being able to lift her into my arms.

Cursing the snow for not being able to go out for a midwife.

Cursing Floki for leaving with Helga.

My mom for ordering that stupid dress. Björn for wanting his stupid boats!

May Thor smite them down into the ocean!

"Ivar... It hurts! It hurts so bad!" she cried when we finally reached the bed to lay her down.

Fuck! I was the younger of my brothers! Ubbe had seen my mother giving birth to three after him! Hvitserk? Two. Even Sigurd would be able to do something if he wasn't so young when I was born! But what did I know about birth and labors?

Shit! I knew shit about it! I slid my hands through my hair looking at her. And Y/N noticed I was completely lost.

"You need... To boil water... And you need to bring the towels that are at my mother's locker. Be careful when you get the towels wet into the water. It will help me with the pain and... you with the... blood!" she growled the last word, bending forward again.

And I almost could see her big belly contracting.

Blood? Blood.

Blood... Yeah. I remember Ubbe saying my birth was full of that shit and that he was scared of seeing the maid coming in with towels and out with red clothes dip in our mother's blood.

I wasn't ready for that shit!

I wasn't raised for that shit!

Fuck Björn's boats! A thousand times!

I sat down, getting rid of my braces - dragging I would be quicker and it wasn't time to be prideful. I then went to the heart of fire, placing a big pan I found at the kitchen over the fire and bringing water into it until it was full.

I could hear Y/N grunting inside the room, trying to breathe. And I then looked outside, seeing the snow becoming higher.

"Damn... Damn! Why the fuck are you doing this to me?" I asked the gods, lowering my head for a moment. "Frigg... Mother... I beg you, guide my hands. And for the gods' sake, end this damn storm!"

The water took some time to get hot enough so I could bring a pot to the room with the towels, leaving the bigger pan with more water to boil at the fire.

When I came into the room, Y/N was sitting in the bed, her back supported by the pillows, her knees flexed as she was breathing quickly, short.

"What do I do now?" I asked, looking at her.

About to panic at the sight of the big poll of blood that had been formed in the middle of her legs and that I was able to see as soon as I got up to the bed.

"Calm down, Ivar," she grunted, looking at me. "I'll bleed. This... This is supposed to happen. Gimme a warm towel," she asked.

And I did what she said, seeing when she placed it over her belly.

"I want you to place another in the middle of my legs, over the bed, ignore the blood, Ivar... Just... Place it over it."

Again, I did what she said, confused.

"Ivar," she called, causing me to look at her. "I want you to stay where you are. And when our child comes... You'll hold it, did you hear me?"

H... Hold it?

"You mean..." I moved my hands, looking at her.

"Take off your... gloves!" Another word grunted and I saw her pushing as something started showing up in her entrance.

And for a moment I was totally taken by that vision at the same time magic and bizarre, intense and terrifying.

My child would be born... And I would be the first one to hold it into this world.

That mix of feelings took me as I was removing my gloves, washing my hands on the water to get them clean.

What I was doing was more than I ever thought I was able to do. But what she was doing there, facing all that pain to bring my dream into this world...

What were all the fights we had?

What was the anger we had against each other?

What was everything in the face of all that love?

I raised my face to look at her. My sweaty, tired, and panting wife, putting all her efforts on pushing our child out of her belly, into this world. Her whole strength, focused only on making my dream become reality.

If she was strong enough to face all that pain for me, then I could face my fears for her.

"It's coming!" she warned, and I approached as she started pushing one more time, allowing me to support our child's head, watching as its whole body slowly came out from her body entirely, finally permitting her to sigh in relief as a strange bag of blood and meat came out as well, connected to our child by the cord.

"Oh, gods..." she cursed, relaxing in bed. "What is it, Ivar? How is my child?" she questioned.

But I was too wondered, astonished, looking at the baby moving in my hands, bothered by the air, by the temperature, by the mere sound of my breath - all new things he wasn't prepared for yet.

"Ivar?" She called, worried.

The fear growing in her voice again just to die completey when her eyes found my image, hands bathed in her blood I was now completely able to ignore, holding our child over that wet and warm towel we placed under her legs.

"It's a boy," I muttered, teary.

And our voices seemed to bother him even more because my son's forehead frowned and his voice could be heard a quarter further away from that house in such a strong cry I could never describe with my own words.

It was alive, full of strength, experimenting life for the first time...

In my hands.

I giggled, completely taken by that experience as Y/N showed me how to cut the cord, clean our baby with the towel, gently packing him in a dry towel so she could bring him against her chest, offering him the breast he accepted in goodwill, hungrily suckling from her.

I watched that scene in awe.

It was Frigg herself, with Baldr in her arms. My own goddess with our child against her chest, the product of her womb, the fruit of our love.

"We've heard the cry of a... Oh, gods... It's here, Floki!" I've heard Helga's voice and I knew she arrived at the bedroom's door such as Floki also arrived, too late to help. Soon enough to see the same wonder I was watching now.

I felt his heavy hand landing on my shoulder, but I didn't want to take my eyes from my beautiful Y/N with our son in her arms, to look at his teary eyes.

"Welcome to the boat of the ones who have already seen the gods, son," he mumbled, giggling that characteristic way of his to laugh.

But I smiled bigger, looking at Y/N who smiled back at me.

She was sweaty, covered in blood, and tired. But I was sure I would never see a woman more beautiful in the whole Miðgarðr.

"No, my friend... I didn't see the gods. A goddess lays in my bed every night. And she produced life as a gift to me."

Floki giggled again. I was speaking of his daughter after all.

But at that moment, all I could think was that if being whole was the best thing in this world, it should feel exactly like the feeling I had in my chest by looking at Y/N.

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[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Boy: 435689

CW: Whump involving a minor (character is 16), although minor is not whumped in this piece. Institutionalized slavery setting, pet whump setting. This piece is more angsty comf, though

“435689, Position Two,” The handler said as the door opened, but the boy didn’t move. He kept his jaw set and curled up even more tightly, pressing himself into the corner of the small white room.

“I said, Position-… shit. See, I knew when I saw the other one… You’re definitely too young,” The handler said, and the boy looked up at him, confused by the words. They swam around him, swooped down and up, made sense only after whole seconds had passed. They put stuff in his food, but he had to eat, right? He tried not eating, but they made him, anyway. He’d do anything to not have to be fed through the gag again. 

Or the drip.

The boy shuddered, tears in his eyes, blinking them away as rapidly as he could. If he cried, the handler would laugh at him, they laughed at all the trainees who cried. 

This handler, though, just… stood there. 

“Jesus, how old are you?”

The boy’s eyebrows furrowed, and he tried to curl himself up even more tightly, arms around his knees, shivering in the constant frigid chill. “All…” His voice cracked and he flinched, ready for the crack of the baton - but nothing happened, and finally he forced his eyes back open to see the handler hadn’t moved. “All p-pets are of legal and c-c-consenting age, sir-”

“Yeah, but you sure as fuck aren’t.” The handler sighed, raking a hand back through his hair, his other hand dropping off the black baton that hung on his belt, little a little ridiculously oversized compared to the young handler’s skinny hips. As soon as he wasn’t touching it, the boy relaxed, just a little, but he kept his eyes locked. “What are you, sixteen?”

The boy hesitated, waiting for the trap he knew must be in the question. It was a trick - he had to say he was eighteen, they worked on this, it hurt and hurt and hurt until he agreed to say he was eighteen - but the handler’s expression didn’t change.

There was no satisfaction there. Instead, there was something the boy hadn’t seen in anyone’s face since he got here… concern.

“I w-was… I’m eighteen,” He said, not quite whimpering the words, his eyes still on the black baton that hung off the handler’s belt. “All pets are of legal and consenting ah, age, I’m sorry don’t be mad at me-” 

The handler stepped into the room, and the boy cringed, putting his arms up over his head to defend himself. 

“Hey-… hey, it’s okay, let’s just settle, yeah?” The handler kept moving, step by careful step, slow like a documentary the boy had once watched in class, where they moved up towards a scared wolf and-

Pain - piercing like a knife through his skull - and the boy cried out, curling up tighter. “Please,” He whispered. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Settle,” The handler said again, more softly. “Settle. It’s okay, 435689, you’re okay. You’re going to be okay. I just want to get a better look at you, yeah? Can you look up at me now?”

The boy, sniffling, forced his arms down only with serious effort, lowering them until he was sitting with his back to the wall, drowning in the oversized white trainee shirt, shivering against the cold in the thin fabric of shirt and shorts that did nothing to warm him. He wore his collar, the heavy box at the back so they could shock him when he was bad - some of the others didn’t have shock collars, but the boy was never good for long enough.

They’d chopped his dark hair short, and he knew it was uneven and shaggy even though he hadn’t seen himself in a mirror since they brought him to his room the first time. 

“Fuck.” The handler bit down on his lower lip, and the boy stared up at him, hoping this was okay, hoping he wouldn’t be hurt any worse than they already did. “Shit. No, you know, I kept thinking some of you guys look young, but… fuck. You can’t be older than sixteen.”

“I-I… I’m eighteen,” The boy insisted, weakly.

“It’s okay, kiddo, I’m not gonna hurt you.” The handler sighed and dropped into a crouch in front of him, holding out one hand. The boy wasn’t chained to the wall, like some of the others, but he didn’t move, not right away. “I’m not gonna hurt you, c’mere,” The handler said, softly.

He sounded nice. No one was nice anymore. 

No one had touched him at all except to hurt.

“Y-yes… yes, sir,” The boy whispered, and shifted slowly forward, teeth nearly chattering at the cold. The handler hesitated, then pulled the boy in for a hug, and the boy at first tensed, rigid and with his heart pounding in his throat - please no please please no please - but the only thing that happened was that the handler was warm.

The boy melted into it, tucking his head under the handler’s chin and sliding his arms around him, pressing himself as tightly as he could against the warmth of another human body. “Thank you, sir,” He whispered.

“Call me Todd,” The handler said softly, then paused. “Wait, no. Don’t do that. We’ll both get in the shit if they find you calling me by my first name. How old are you, really?”

The boy swallowed, hard, and braced himself against the pain in his head, the sharp lance that tried to dissuade him from remembering. “S-Sixteen, sir.”

“Fuck. I knew it. I’ll put in a complaint, they’re not supposed to be able-… what’s your name?”

“Uh, um. I’m. Um, I’m, I’m a number, I’m a pet, I exist to provide domestic care and cleaning for my owner’s household-”

“Yeah, okay, I thought that one might be a step too far for you. Okay, okay. Let’s just be quiet for a sec, okay? Fuck.” The handler held him so tightly, and no one had touched the boy in so long. He had to choke back a sob, curling into the warmth. “You’re never supposed to be this young, you can’t even consent. How did they not catch that when you came in to sign up?”

“I… I d-didn’t.” The boy knew this was dangerous, saying it out loud, but he couldn’t stop himself. He kept his eyes closed, terrified of what would happen next. “I was… was walking h-h-home from practice, and there was this other boy, h-he said he was lost and needed help… they, they put me in a van…”

“… they kidnapped you? Like… we kidnapped you? They used another pet?”

The boy nodded, breathing in hitched gasps.

“Holy fuck.” The handler sounded… ill, almost, and the boy pulled back to look up at him, having to force himself to break the contact with the handler’s body heat, his only shield against the shivering, teeth-chattering cold he lived in. 

The handler’s face was ash-white and green around the edges, his eyes wide and white-rimmed. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

“I… I can’t believe they-… but, no, there’s no… there’s no fuckin’ way… I have to talk to someone about this. I have to ask-… oh, shit. Oh… oh shit, okay. Fuck. Okay. Oh… oh my God.” The handler looked like he was going to throw up. “Listen, is there anything I can do for you, kiddo, right now? Anything you want?”

The boy looked up at him, blinking, barely understanding the question.

What you want is no longer important, pet.

You have no desires now, only your owner’s.

Stop fucking whining, you don’t have a family.

Your owner is all the family you’ll ever need.

“I, I want… I w-want…” The boy bit his lower lip as the tears came again, and this time he couldn’t hold them back. He collapsed back against the handler’s chest, feeling the arms tightly around him, and began to cry, sobs that wracked his whole body.

“I want my mom,” He sobbed, and felt the handler’s grip on him tighten. “I want, I want my mom, I m-miss my mom, I w-w-want my mom…”

The room was silent, except for the sound of the cold air recirculating through the vents in the ceiling, and the boy’s tears.

The handler said nothing, but there was nothing to say.

They both knew the boy would likely never see his mother again. 

[superspookywombat]

falling {j.h} chapter seven

Warnings: sexual thought (singular), slight swearing, sexual innuendo insult (towards jacob so it’s okay)

Taglist: Sleepy-whore geekysimmerthings mauvette268 treestarrrrrrrr kaleigh404 krazykatkay456 meganlikesfandoms darknacademia hi-my-name-is-riley vdtwsupernatural selmeuuh raindancer2004 wondersandtempests royale-trash-slytherin im-hella-bright bootylimpics livfg It-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes peacemusicinch coffeeslut16 bvbwestfall Actuallyedythecullen stan-joonies Peacebuglove Millie-753 Frozenhuntress67 i-tried21 seaevans femflorals arseofrivia trashysara vulgarfuckinvirgo sleepysnapesnake hey-bulldogs mental-breaker-74 pansexual-and-eating-pancakes 

Quick a/n: I’m still pissed about Jacob forcing himself on Bella and her not being able to defend herself. Like, I took it personally, so naturally y/n did too. Constructive criticism is always welcomed and appreciated :)

Red is all you see, the unbearable heat forcing your eyes closed. Flames lick at your skin as you try to walk forward, but you’re unable to move. Your body is frozen in place, and through the flames you can see an invisible barrier where they cut off. Outside that barrier sits your sister, along with Jasper, Edward, Doctor Cullen, Esme, and Alice. They watch you as you suffer, their faces broken with pain and guilt. Tears fall from your eyes as you scream out, the scent of burning skin and hair invading your nostrils. The fire overwhelms you until you can’t feel anything anymore, and you fall unconscious. 

You jolt awake, stopping a scream from escaping your lips. Sweat beads down your back as you rub your arms, trying to soothe the burning feeling. Your face is stiff from dried tears, and your shirt is soaked in sweat. You glance at your sister sleeping peacefully, gibberish words falling from her mouth. You softly pad over to the bathroom and close the door, peeling off your damp shirt. You take off the rest of your clothes and watch yourself in the mirror as the water warms up. You clutch the edge of the sink, forcing yourself to stare into your own eyes. Tears spill from your eyes, but you wipe them away as quickly as they appear. You enter the shower, but as the hot steam touches your skin, you’re swift to turn the water colder. Your last day of school was here, but you couldn’t care less. Things with Bella had finally gotten on the right track, and now she was going to cart off to Alaska with Edward. The more you thought about it, the only thing holding you to Forks was Charlie (and Jasper but you weren’t ready to admit that, yet.) You had been toying with the idea of taking a gap year to travel the world, smoosh some experiences in before you fully settled down, but the thought of leaving Charlie by himself made your stomach churn. 

After washing and shaving, you exited the bathroom and got dressed. Feeling energized by waking up so early, you pulled on a dress and blow dried your hair. Walking down the stairs, you peek around the corner to see Charlie drinking a cup of coffee at the table while reading yesterday’s paper. 

“Morning, old man. Can I interest you in some breakfast? Maybe gourmet buttered toast and eggs?” You tease. He looks up, startled. 

“It’s your last day, I should be the one making you breakfast.” Charlie says. You give him a small smile and grab the egg carton from the refrigerator. “Why are you up so early?” 

Shreds of remembrance from your dream runs through your mind, but you shake the thought and keep a smile on your face. “I wanted to get a headstart on the bathroom before Bella hogged it.”

“Smart move.” He chuckles. You fry three eggs and you’re just setting out plates when Bella walks down the stairs. 

“Hey, um, Edward, Jasper, and Alice are coming to pick us up in twenty.” She informs you and Charlie. You and Charlie nearly spit out your drinks simultaneously.

“Jasper?” You ask.

“Boys?” Charlie says at the same time. Bella rolls her eyes and grabs the bottle of orange juice. 

“We’re adults now, dad. I think we’ll be fine.” Bella teases. Charlie points to your backpack and mouths ‘pepper spray,’ and you nod. You and Bella eat quickly, and Charlie watches you two in amusement. A knock at the door startles the three of you. 

“Go, go!” Charlie waves you on. You open the door and Alice stands there. She bounds inside with a huge smile and engulfs you and Bella in a hug. You wrap your arms around her hesitantly. After letting go, she bends down and hugs Charlie. 

“Good morning, Chief Swan.” She greets Charlie. He tries to scowl, but just isn’t able to resist Alice’s good vibes.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Alice. Call me Charlie.” He says with a gruff voice. Alice giggles then takes Bella’s hand and pulls her out the door. 

“I guess that’s my cue.” You say, your eyes lingering on Charlie for a bit before following the girls outside. 

As you approach the stylish SUV, Bella hops into the front by Edward and Alice opens the back door for you. You give her a small smile before sliding in the middle seat to sit in between her and Jasper. Your thigh brushes Jasper’s and you shiver. Images of his bare thigh brushing yours as you combine race through your mind. Your thoughts get interrupted by intense classical music blasting through the car. 

“So.. are you guys excited?” Alice says brightly. Bella glances at you through the rear-view mirror. 

“For sure. You only graduate once, right?” You joke. The whole car irrupts with chuckles, making you knit your eyebrows together and wonder why they found that so funny. You try to act as normal as you can while being in such close proximity with Jasper, especially after the moment you two shared a week ago on the couch. “I’m actually kinda nervous. I have no clue what the future holds for me, you know?” 

“It’ll all be fine. Just remember that everyone else is feeling the exact same way. And I’m here for you.” Jasper says, his voice soothing your nerves. He hesitates placing his hand on yours, glancing at Alice before pulling his hand away. Your heart drops as he puts as much space between the two of you as he possibly can. 

Edward pulls into the parking lot as you brace yourself for your last day of school. 

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

A few days later, Bella returns from an outing with Jacob. You go to the front yard, following Charlie after hearing yelling between Jacob and Edward. 

“You did what?!” You’re blinded by outrage, your hands balling up into fists at the sight of Jacob watching Bella cradling her hand. 

“You punched him, and- and- and you’re the one who got hurt?” Charlie outbursts with a loud laugh. You smack him, hissing a warning at him. 

“I’m gonna kill him!” You yell. You storm into the house, running up to your room and grabbing your baseball bat. 

“I didn’t even put a dent in him.” Bella scoffs, Charlie tries to lecture her on her form. You slam the door behind you as you stride out into the yard with the bat in your hands. 

“Let’s see how much damage some metal does.” You spit. Jacob puts his hands up defensively and chuckles as Charlie practically tackles you. “Let me go! I’m gonna make that son-of-a-bitch wish his mother swallowed!” 

“I’m going to take her to see Carlisle. Why don’t you come with us?” Edward offers. You look at him, then back at Jacob.

“Fine. But I’m bringing the bat.”

Doctor Cullen checks out Bella’s hand while you pace in their yard. You tighten your grip around your bat and you chuck it at a tree, your anger wavering at the sound it makes on impact. As you walk over to grab it, a voice behind you makes you jump. 

“I’d hate to get on your bad side.” A southern drawl speaks. You sarcastically chuckle, reaching down to grab the bat.

“Who says you aren’t already?” You say, pointing the bat at Jasper. He frowns, and you feel guilty for a second. 

“I apologize for anything I did to offend you.” He says, and you can tell he’s sincere. You sigh.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You say. He continues making eye contact with you, making your knees feel weak under his gaze. 

“Why are you upset?” He asks. You scoff at him and run your hand through your hair. 

“Jacob! He kissed her-” You whack the bat on the hard ground. “-With-” Whack. “-out-” Whack. “-her-” Whack. “PERMISSION!” Whack, whack, whack. The bat falls from your numb fingers and you fall to your knees, sobs wracking through your body. Jasper kneels down besides you and gently puts his arm around you. 

“Something tells me that’s not all.” He says. You look up at him through your tear-blurred vision. 

“I- yeah. There’s just some stuff from my past that makes me, a little, uh, emotional on this topic.” You sniffle. His arm goes stiff as he processes what you just said. Another sob falls silently from your lips and you bury your head in his chest, embracing his scent as he wraps his arms around you. 

[loveislattes]

Take You Away (DarkXGN/AFAB!Reader) Chapter 1

Commission prompt: 

Dark/afab gn!reader: the reader is naturally submissive with a praise kink to end all praise kinks—dark likes to fluster & tease the reader with praise until all they can do is whine and whimper needily?  Mixed with- DarkxReader- Dark is a mythical, eldritch, being who lures curious souls into his forest. Similar to InfelixXReader.

Alright, if you know my writing by now, you know I almost always gotta come up with a back story. So this first chapter is all world building and fluff. 

Only warning for this first chapter is it talks about the death of a grandparent.

@underthedark13

@moriimae

@oi-fischfuck

@beck384

@book-of-roses

@therealcap

It was fitting, empathetic almost really. Grandma had cried herself practically empty and so the clouds above were drizzling their own tears for the family. A melancholic smile turned your lips up the slightest bit as you watched your grandma get up from her second home in the dirt of the small garden, wiping her hands clean on her old apron. It wasn’t until you realized she was going to attempt to carry the over-filled basket of vegetables that you finally sprung into action.

“Hey, why don’t you let me carry that?” you offered gently.

At first, you thought she was going to refuse your offer, that familiar stubborn look coming into her eyes until she relented with a sigh. 

“I suppose,” she grumbled.

After handing off the basket, she took a few of the potatoes and carrots off the top. 

You offered her a grand smile and said, “It’s the least I can do after lazing around and just watching you do all the actual hard work.”

“Yeah yeah.”

She waved you off and started toward the back door but not before you spotted the little grin she now had. It felt like a victory of epic proportions after how down everyone had been the past few days. The toll of your grandpa’s death had dealt a mighty blow, which is why you were staying an extra week at home with her. Not that you minded. You needed the break from work and it had been a long time since you’d seen her in person. 

“You coming or not, child?” she chastised warmly from the doorway.

Chuckling and giving her a little shrug, you replied, “Yep, sorry! Got lost in my thoughts.”

It amused you to no end that, despite being over eighteen for however long, she still called you child just like when you stood at her knee height. Some things never changed. Just like how she stood at that same spot every night to cut up the ingredients for supper, and how she always kept her coffee mug just a little too close to the edge for your liking. 

Setting the basket on the floor by the pantry, you slowly worked to get all the vegetables put away while listening to the steady chopping of the knife on the board and the gentle sound of her humming. The instant you were finished, you joined her at the counter.

“Uh-uh. You know I love you dearly, child, but you’ve been clucking around me like a mother hen all day. You and I both need a break. Leave me to do my work and go get some fresh air. Maybe go see if that Walmart boy you used to like so much remembers you.”

At the mention of your middle school crush, the Walmart greeter who was at least a generation older than you, you barely managed to hold in a cringe-laced groan.

“Uh, no thanks. I’m good on that front,” you muttered, rapping your knuckles on the counter rhythmically, “But I’ll find something to do.”

Before you had even finished the sentence, you knew exactly where you were going. You’d been dying to explore the woods outside the house since the day after the funeral but didn’t want to leave your grandma alone too soon. You’d spent most of your summers there as a kid until your parents stopped bringing you here.

“Go. Have fun. Act like the young adult you are and get into a little mischief. Not too much though!” 

You slipped your jacket on and called out a reminder to your grandma that you were only a phone call away before running out the door. You noted, thankfully, that the slow drizzle from before had lightened up even more into a sparse sprinkle so you had the option of keeping your hood down. As your feet moved towards the familiar path through the back gate, your mind began to wander.

You knew it was a stupid hope. It had been over a decade since you’d last visited, so logically you knew that the little meadow you had claimed as your own so long ago might not even exist anymore, but you just had to see. Every summer when you’d come to stay with your grandparents, you’d spend hours upon hours in the woods exploring. The plentiful greenery served to be your escape from reality. You imagined colonies of fairies and hollows of trolls, eternal life springs, and animated Ents. At the center of it all had been the one and only imaginary friend in your childhood; a man named Dark. 

As you got older you realized there had to be some psychological reason you had imagined a distinguished eldritch being in the forest named Dark as your friend for many years but you never did figure out the reasoning. 

“To be fair, my childhood wasn’t that great,” you muttered to yourself. 

While contemplating the psychological impact a rough childhood might have on one’s psyche and emotional growth, you continued on the long-familiar path, somehow traipsing carefully around every root and limb with precise muscle memory that shouldn’t even exist. 

“Well, well, what do we have here? Little Mx. Red has come to see me again after all this time?”

The sudden deep voice nearly sent you careening to the side out of pure shock and terror. Your eyes swept from the forest floor to the clearing you hadn’t even yet noticed in front of you. And there he sat, the perfectly imperfect being of your dreams, in the same delicately grown throne of vines and limbs that you remembered from so long ago. Just as stunning as the first day you’d seen him. 

“Dark?” you asked warily.

A sly smirk parted his lips as he tipped his head your way.

“Mx. Red.”

As your brain fought your tongue to find some semblance of words, your eyes danced over him and soaked in every visible inch. You didn’t quite remember him being so… attractive. Then again, you were a child the last time you had seen him. With his pristine white suit and contrasting black shirt, he painted a portrait of class, but his unshaven face and messy black locks gave off the exact opposite vibe. It would almost be funny how human he looked if it weren’t for the fact you were utterly transfixed. When he suddenly lifted a wine glass to his lips and took a sip, it broke whatever spell you had been under.

“Wait, you remember me?” you finally asked in return.

“I remember everyone that I promise to save.”

A little bout of excitement and embarrassment wriggled through your gut uncomfortably as you thought back on everything you ever told him. So many secrets. Blown way out of proportion thanks to a child’s view on life. 

“Yeah, about that. I thought some stupid stuff as a kid. I wasn’t really being treated as badly as it seemed, at least not as bad-”

At an inhuman speed, the eldritch being leaped from his throne and came to stand mere inches from you, interrupting your train of thought and forcing silence to blossom in the slight space between your bodies. 

“Don’t. Do not compare your plights to others. Their pain does not lessen yours,” he demanded roughly, “Alas, you seem to have forgotten that I was able to see into your head and verify your fears.”

With the touch of his fingers to your temple, suddenly you were transported back a decade: Tiny little you standing face to face with the kneeling man whose face was screwed up in concern. The strange little twirl of magic that danced along your skin and billowed your hair around you. The exhilarating excitement of being allowed tea parties with playful imps and fairies. The twisting feeling of defeat when you’d have to leave at the end of each summer. 

Your legs went weak beneath you and your stomach felt like it was dropped miles below as you were suddenly back in your adult body. You braced for impact with eyes shut tight only to be yanked into the firm planes of another’s body. Through process of elimination, your mind brilliantly deduced that the only person who could be holding you was Dark and immediately your face began to burn hot. You jerked away quickly and he relinquished his hold with grace but kept a steadying hand on your shoulder. 

“My apologies,” he spoke softly, “Are you okay now?”

A little nod was all you could manage in return but that seemed enough to soothe his worries. 

“It seems that it’s been long enough since I’ve looked into your mind that your body has built up a resistance.”

“That’s… interesting?” you murmured uncertainly, “It might also be the shock of discovering that you’re actually real and not a figment of my imagination.” 

He watched as you shoved your hands into your pockets nervously but didn’t say anything in return. The weight of his eyes was heavy and built the intensity brewing in your belly to a boil. So many conflicting emotions were assaulting your mind and body that you physically couldn’t handle much more than staring back at him just the same. And at the same time, everything was suddenly serene, down to the muffled humming of the forest creatures around you. 

You weren’t sure how long it had been before the first chirping ring of your phone went off but suddenly you were alerted to the fact that you were standing much closer than you had been originally, a trembling hand halfway up to his face. Said hand instantly shot into your jacket pocket and brought your cell to your face.

“Uhm, h-hello?” you answered meekly.

“Dinner’s almost done. You coming back soon?” your grandma asked, the sound of a pot lid banging in the background.

“Sure thing. Be there in a few,” you replied. 

When you looked back up at Dark after shoving your phone away, you were surprised to find him with a little smile on his face.

“Go. I will be here when you return. I’m always here,” he coaxed.

You licked your lips nervously before giving him and slight nod and saying, “I’ll be back in the morning. We have a lot of catching up to do.”