#no thoughts just being fueled by pure exhaustion

[bylightofdawn]

I'm finally home, I watched Across the Spiderverse and I am vibrating from wanting to scream about things but I am so mentally boomed all I would manage is "ooooo pretty colors"

So I might try and talk about it tomorrow when I am slightly more coherent.

I also got my playstation visa card AND realized I'd mis-read the whole offer about the 125 statement credit thing, it expired 6/30

So I SHOULD get it. Which is good since I Just put 600 dollars on a credit card with a stupid high APR. Which I will be focusing on paying off ASAP. -cringes-

I'm being a good girl and did not get Jedi Survivor. I want to pay this off ASAP and don't need to carry anymore debt on it than I have to.

I'm going to try and pay this off within 3 months which may fuck around with my plans to start paying on the Obi-Wan and Fox hot toys. I feel like....Obi-Wan will prolly sell out before Fox and he releases first so I"m going to focus on him and then Fox afterwards. Can I say how upset and disappointed I am we do not get a Fox headsculpt?

Okay I'm fucking beyond exhausted. The last chapter of this A M A Z I N G Xedgin finished posting and I'm like three chapters behind at this point.

Everyone should go read it.

It's a delightful AU set about 7ish years before the movie and kinda takes things and tosses it out. Ed, Holga and a seven year old Kira decide to leave and head down South towards Mornbryn's Shield. And along the way they meet this handsome Paladin and Eg is very much lowkey thirsting until he finds out he's Thayan and well there's a couple of chapters of Ed making you want to strangle him but he gets better.

There is so much scrumptious pining and people being dumb. I love it so much.

So I'm going to read that foe the rest of the night and hopefully don't pass out midway through because I am legit to that poi t of exhaustion where I am loopy.

[pucksandpower]

Settle Down

Oscar Piastri x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: sometimes there’s so much energy drink flowing through your veins that you’re physically incapable of sitting still, but Oscar always has a way of helping you settle down

You can’t sit still, as usual. Even though you’re supposed to be relaxing in the Red Bull motorhome between practice sessions, you’re bouncing around like a pinball, fueled by way too many energy drinks.

“Babe, can you please try to calm down for five minutes?” Oscar sighs, though there’s an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Your boyfriend has endless patience when it comes to your hyperactive tendencies.

“I can’t help it!” You protest, nearly vibrating out of your skin with pent-up energy. “My body is literally powered by Red Bull!”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Is that so? Well in that case ...” He gets up from the couch and pulls you into his arms, holding you still against his chest. You let out a grumbling noise of frustration but don’t fight it as he rocks you gently back and forth.

“This is undignified. I’m a professional race car driver, you know,” you grumble, even as you start to feel your racing heart slow thanks to Oscar’s soothing presence.

“A professional menace, more like,” he teases. “But you’re my menace.”

You swat at his arm half-heartedly. “I’m surprised you can even stand being around me. I must drive you crazy.”

“On the contrary, I quite enjoy the challenge of trying to tame you.” Oscar grins wolfishly and pulls you even closer. His warm brown eyes are filled with open affection. “Though I have to admit, sometimes you exhaust even me.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t try so hard,” you retort, though you make no move to pull away from his embrace. If you’re being honest, having Oscar’s strong arms wrapped around you is the only thing that ever really makes you feel calm and grounded.

He sees right through your bravado as always. “You know that’s not true. This is the only way I can get you to hold still for five seconds.”

Oscar brushes a stray lock of hair out of your face, letting his fingertips linger on your cheek. You shiver slightly at his gentle touch. Even after two years of dating, the chemistry between you is as electric as ever.

“Well?” He prompts after a few moments of contented silence. “Feeling a bit more settled now, my kangaroo?”

You make a face at the teasing nickname but have to admit he’s right. Already you can feel the frantic buzzing under your skin starting to dissipate thanks to Oscar’s calming presence and soothing caresses.

“Maybe a little,” you concede grudgingly. You lean further into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. “You always did have a weird power over me.”

“Just be glad I only use my powers for good and not evil,” Oscar quips. He brushes a light kiss over your forehead and you melt even further into his arms.

You’re both quiet for a little while, just enjoying each other’s closeness and the rare moment of peace before the storm of tomorrow’s qualifying. At last Oscar breaks the comfortable silence.

“You know, I’ve been thinking ...”

You tense a little at his words, knowing from experience that those four little words are often the precursor to something you may not want to hear. “That’s never a good sign,” you mutter warily.

Oscar huffs out a quiet laugh. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. At least I don’t think so ...” He takes a deep breath like he’s steeling himself. “I was just wondering … have you ever thought about us getting married someday?”

You stiffen in surprise, definitely not expecting that. “Married?” You pull back just enough to get a better look at his face, searching his expression for any signs he might be joking. But Oscar just gazes at you steadily, pure sincerity in his warm eyes.

“You’re really asking me that? Right now?” You blink rapidly, trying to get your whirling thoughts under control.

“Well, why not?” Oscar says simply. “We’ve been together for two years, we’re both doing well in our careers. And you know how I feel about you. What’s holding us back from making it permanent?”

“I … I don’t know,” you admit, momentarily at a complete loss for words — which is rare for you. “I guess I’ve just never really thought about it before. I mean, you know how single-minded I can get when it comes to racing.”

“And you think I’m not the same way?” Oscar arches an eyebrow. “Believe me, babe, I understand that drive and ambition better than anyone. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have both career success and a lasting relationship. I know I want you by my side for all of it.”

His words make your heart flutter rapidly against your ribs. You search Oscar’s face, looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation. But you see nothing but sincerity, determination, and that all-consuming love and devotion he’s only ever directed at you.

Slowly, a brilliant smile spreads across your face. “Oscar Piastri … are you proposing to me right here in the Red Bull motorhome?”

At your words, Oscar dips his head sheepishly, a faint blush coloring those charmingly sharp cheekbones of his. “I, ah … I didn’t actually mean for it to come out like that, to be honest. I really did just want to gauge how you felt about the idea first before making any actual proposals.”

“Well, that was a terrible job of it then,” you tease, feeling a smug satisfaction at having flustered the normally cool and composed Oscar Piastri for once. “I’m afraid you’ve well and truly proposed now, sir, there’s no taking it back.”

“Is that so?” Oscar’s eyes sparkle with sudden mirth, that wolfish grin creeping across his face again. “Well then, in that case ...”

He pulls you close once more until you’re pressed flush against him. “Y/N Y/L/N,” he begins in a low, throaty rumble that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “Will you make me the happiest man in the paddock and agree to be my wife?”

There’s a heavy pause as you simply gaze into Oscar’s eyes, caught up in the sheer depth of emotion swirling in their depths. Those beautiful brown pools are filled with unbridled adoration, devotion, and a love so palpable and all-consuming it almost steals your breath away.

Slowly, you lean in until your foreheads are resting together, noses brushing in an intimate caress. When you finally find your voice again to answer, it emerges as a hushed, reverent whisper.

“Yes … god, yes, Oscar. Of course I’ll marry you.”

A brilliant smile breaks across Oscar’s face, brighter and more dazzling than the sun. He crushes you to him once more, arms wrapped so tightly around you that it feels like he’s trying to meld the two of you into one being through sheer force of will.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, just holding each other close and reveling in this new promise stretching out before you both. It could be seconds or it could be hours lost in the endless depth of emotion and sensation sparked by Oscar’s touch and fervent kisses.

At long last, you force yourself to pull away, just enough to meet his gaze with a impish grin. “You know, we’re going to have to tell our teams about this. Can you just imagine the reactions?”

Oscar chuckles, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear with utmost tenderness. “I can only imagine. Though they’ll likely be more shocked it took us this long, to be honest.”

You laugh freely at that, nodding in acknowledgment. “Fair point. We haven’t exactly been subtle about our feelings for each other over the years.”

“Not at all,” Oscar agrees with a wry smirk, raising your joined hands to brush a feather-light kiss across your knuckles. Despite his teasing words, his eyes are soft with pure adoration. “But you’re worth being unsubtle for. I would shout my feelings from the rooftops if you asked me to.”

You feel a blush heating your cheeks at his ardent sincerity. “Good thing I’m not asking then. I’d hate to have to share you with the entire world.”

“Never,” Oscar vows fervently, pulling you close once more. “You have my heart, kangaroo. You’ve had it from the moment we met. It will always be yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Then I guess you’d better get used to me holding on to it forever,” you murmur, grinning up at him with sparkling eyes. “Because I’m never letting you go, Mr. Piastri.”

Oscar’s returning smile is brilliant and full of devotion. “That’s the plan, future Mrs. Piastri.”

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other. When you finally part, foreheads resting together, Oscar brushes the pad of his thumb over your swollen lips with a look of such tender wonder that your heart clenches.

“God, I love you,” he rasps out, voice low and throaty with emotion. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you by my side.”

You feel your own eyes stinging with happy tears at his words. “I love you too,” you whisper back fervently. “More than I could ever say.”

For a long moment you simply gaze at each other, caught up in the overwhelming love and emotion sparking between you. Then you let out a watery laugh, swiping at the treacherous tears escaping the corners of your eyes.

“We’re being totally ridiculous, you know that?” you say with a teasing grin. “Two grown adults, crying like lovesick teenagers in the middle of a team motorhome.”

Oscar chuckles, brushing away the dampness on your cheeks with gentle fingers. “I think we’ve earned the right to be a little ridiculous on the day we decide to spend forever together, don’t you?”

You have to concede he has a point. Heaving an exaggerated sigh, you curl further into his embrace, reveling in the steadying warmth and strength of his arms around you. “I suppose that’s fair. Though you’d better prepare yourself for a lifetime of dealing with my particular brand of ridiculousness.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Oscar says simply, dropping another soft kiss on your upturned lips.

You hum into the kiss, all the frantic energy that had thrummed under your skin earlier now replaced with an unparalleled sense of peace and contentment. It seems Oscar’s trick of using gentle caresses and soothing touches to calm you is finally complete — he’s managed to lull you into a state of perfect tranquility simply by promising to be yours forever.

As if he can read your thoughts, Oscar murmurs against your hairline, “There, you see? I knew I could get you to settle down one of these days.”

You let out an amused snort, not even trying to deny his teasing words. There’s no point — you both know Oscar has an almost preternatural ability to silence the constant buzz in your mind and body with just his presence alone. He’s the only one who can slip past your whirlwind defenses and soothe your restless spirit into a state of true serenity.

“Yes, alright, you win,” you concede drowsily, the combination of Oscar’s warmth and steady heartbeat under your ear lulling you into a state of contented haze. “You’ve officially tamed me. I’m defenseless against you.”

“Good,” Oscar rumbles, sounding immensely satisfied as he tightens his arms around you possessively. “I’ll be sure to take full advantage of that from now until forever.”

And somehow, despite the teasing lilt to his words, you know with certainty that he means every syllable. With a contented sigh, you let your eyes drift shut, feeling more at peace than you ever have as you melt into the protective circle of your new fiance’s embrace.

Yes, you think hazily as the tension finally seeps from your body entirely. This wonderful and beautifully stabilizing man is going to be yours forever … and you can’t wait.

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (7)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, PINING, Azriel's POV and he is incredibly sad

a/n: Yay here's more <3 I promise it gets happy and there's a little teaser of what that'll look like in this part. Let me know what you think pleaseee :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

Azriel 

Azriel’s heart came to a thudding halt.

“What was that?” he asked softly, trying to play it off. Trying to pretend as if you hadn’t just asked him the one question he had hoped would never come. Because you were supposed to get better before it came to this. 

He had begged the Mother for any kind of reprieve.

She hadn’t listened, as Azriel had expected. 

“Mates,” you slurred, your head bobbing on his shoulder. The High Lords had exhausted you. “Helion said you… he said something about a mate. I can’t remember exactly… but no one’s told me what that is.” 

Pure adoration tore at Azriel’s chest. Your words blurred together as you sunk deeper into his arms, and Gods, did he love you. He let himself imagine that you were drunk—just for a moment. You were drunk and still his and he was carrying you home after a night at Rita’s. 

“Azriel?” 

The moment ended and panic replaced the temporary comfort that had consumed him. 

“Yes, my love?” It had slipped, a mistake fueled by his clouded mind. Azriel counted his footsteps and held his breath, but you only hummed in response, too drained to notice the endearment that had fallen with such desperation from his lips. 

“You were telling m’about mates,” you reminded him. Your arm slipped from his neck and landed in your lap. Azriel held you closer, feeling your body begin to lose its grip. 

“Of course,” he dutifully replied. “A mate is… it is a gift from the cauldron. An equal to share a bond with.”

“Like a lover?”

Azriel could hardly piece your words together with the way they tumbled out. 

That, and his stomach was twisting, reminding him of the very bond that was crying out within him. This was wrong. It was all so terribly wrong. He didn’t have to have this conversation with you last time; it had hurt you too much to even hint at the topic. 

Back then, Azriel had been so deep in anguish he couldn't keep food down, so desperate to just speak to you that his body rejected all else. 

This was somehow worse.

“Much stronger,” he whispered, pressing his nose to your temple in an act of weakness. You didn’t notice. “Our souls are linked—mates I mean. A mating bond doesn’t always lead to the pair being lovers, but if they choose to do so, it’s enhanced. It’s unexplainable, truly, having someone connected to you that you love so deeply.” 

“That sounds nice,” you mused, a melodic flow of syllables starkly contrasting the effort with which Azriel was trying to string his sentences together. 

“It is.” He gave in to his urges and looked down at you in his arms, your hair flushed against his leathers, your face soft and drowsy. “It is wonderful.” 

You cracked an eye open. Azriel had stopped walking. “Do you have one?” 

“What?” he choked out. 

“You speak as if you know the feeling well. Do you have a mate, Azriel?” 

“I—” There were no thoughts in his head, nothing but the sound of your voice and your question repeating itself like a bell tolling in a vicious pattern. “Yes,” he sputtered out. “I do, yes.” 

You smiled softly, but it was paired with a furrowed brow and a light sigh. “Good,” you nodded to yourself. “You deserve a mate.” 

Too much talking, too much thinking; your head lulled into his arm, face against his chest, and you were asleep. 

Yes, this was much worse than the last time. 

Azriel adjusted his grip and carried you back to the room you didn’t know belonged to the both of you. 

~~

The pounding in your head was your first indication that you were awake. You moved your hand to your hairline before opening your eyes, applying pressure in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there. 

Useless. 

A small groan made its way up your throat. The night before, or whenever it was—you had no idea how long you’d been sleeping—was a jumbled mess in your mind. You remembered meeting Helion, being told you were in love with him, being told that you actually weren’t in love with him, and then he and Rhysand had entered your mind and left you as nothing more than a vegetable. 

There were other pieces too, like Azriel carrying you back to your room and talking about… mates? Yes, that sounded right—the larger-than-life, effervescent partners bestowed upon fae by the cauldron. 

And he had told you that he had one. 

That was good. Great, even. Something stirred within you, an uncomfortable feeling, but you ignored it in favor of the pain radiating across your head. Gods, why did it hurt so much? 

Helion and Rhysand had been in your mind. They were going to discuss things with you. 

You shot up far too quickly, the motion sending shooting pains up your neck. 

“What?” you heard a voice panic. “What is it? Are you hurt?” 

Another jarring look to the side and you just about passed out from the pain. You caught a glimpse of Azriel before you squeezed your eyes shut to try and manage it, his large form folded into a chair by the door that was certainly not made to accommodate wings. You lowered your head into your hands and heard the chair screech against the floor. 

“What is it, y/n?” Azriel asked, voice closer now. 

You let out a shaky sigh. “Sorry, just—it’s my head, give me a moment.” 

He didn’t speak, but the room became dark. That seemed like an impossible feat, with the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls and letting in the rays of the day court sun. But the pounding in your head receded a fraction, and you could tell it was dimmer even from behind your eyelids. 

“Does that help?” he asked, so low you could barely hear him. 

You felt his breath at your arm. 

“Yes,” you whispered back, and when you opened your eyes, Azriel was there. His wings had circled you, encasing you in a darkness that blocked out the world, his knees at the side of your bed. 

“You got up too quickly,” Azriel offered.

“I know, but I wanted to hear what the High Lords had to say about the witch and my memories and what I need to do to fix everything. Have you heard anything?”

“Very little. I’ve been here.” 

“For how long?” 

“You slept for a day and a half.” 

“And you stayed the entire time?” 

“You requested I stay by your side. You’ve been here.” 

You bit into your lip, the heavy weight of guilt loading onto your chest. Azriel flinched as if he felt it himself. “I wanted to stay,” he comforted. “It puts me at ease to… see you while we’re in this court. To know exactly where you are and who’s around you.” 

“Because of last time,” you stated, but it was a question that hung in the air. 

Azriel’s eyes tracked along the planes of your face. His hand twitched. “Yes, because of last time.” 

He looked so serious, bordering on forlorn. Despite the pain in your head and the conflicting emotions rising within you, you attempted to lessen some of the load that seemed to bogg the shadowsinger down. 

“You could have taken shifts with Cassian, you know. Or even, I don’t know, laid on the bed that’s the size of a small apartment. I was out cold the entire time—didn’t wake up once. I wouldn’t have noticed if you did,” you offered with a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. 

Azriel’s gaze dropped to your mouth, his own expression lightening. “Cassian would fall asleep immediately. And, just to let you know, you did wake up. Several times.” 

You gave him a doubtful look. “I think I would remember that.” 

The shadowsinger bit back a smile and something within you shone at the playful look in his eye. “Right, so you don’t remember waking up and practically ripping that from my body?” 

His eyes shot down to your chest, an action which you followed to find a large, unfamiliar sweater swathing your body in warmth. You looked further down at your hands, only to find the sleeves of the garment covering your palms and fingers as well. 

An incredulous laugh bubbled in your chest. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t actually rip this off of you, did I?” 

Azriel shifted his knees into a kneeling position beside you, his wings shuffling and creating a sound you had begun to find comfort in. “Well, you didn’t exactly ask politely.” 

You groaned and shoved your face back into your hands. “Gods, that’s embarrassing. It’s because I was delirious, I swear. Those damn High Lords scrambled my brain.” 

“Y/n, you have a penchant for demanding things in your sleep. Food, water, clothing, more blankets. Once you woke up to ask me for an entire roast duck and in the morning you had no recollection. You were quite aggravated that night.” 

“No, stop, I can’t take this. I am melting into a puddle of mortification and you are making it worse.” 

Azriel chuckled. “It’s alright. I’ve grown used to it over the years. It’s almost charming, really.” 

You peeked through your sweater-clad fingers. “You can’t mean that.” 

“I mean it very sincerely. When you are sick or unwell, you sleep through the entire night. When you wake up and grab the neck of my sweater like you’re robbing me, I know things are okay.” 

You groaned again, this time tilting your head back and immediately regretting the action when a pulse of pain permeated along your temples. But it wasn’t so bad anymore; Azriel and his wings made it better. 

You took a moment to gaze upon his face in the proximity. He was smiling slightly, some humor still shining in his hazel eyes. The occasional shadow made a pass along his cheeks and by his ear, whispering secrets you weren’t privy to and then coming to wind around your body as well. His hair was mused and untamed, landing in soft patterns across his forehead. 

Azriel was so beautiful it hurt. 

“Does your mate ever get upset that we are so close?” you asked, the question not even fully formed in your head before it entered the space.

The smile slipped from Azriel’s lips and you regretted your impulsivity almost instantly. 

“No,” he answered, a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” 

“Has something happened? Between the two of you?” 

“Y/n, please don’t worry yourself over—” 

“It’s just—Azriel, I know how hard all of this has been on you. When you spoke of your mate it was the first time I saw you look at peace. That’s why I’m asking.” 

“You remember what I said?” 

“All of it,” you smiled, but Azriel only looked grave. “Az—"

The shadowsinger jutted back as the familiarity left your lips. He sent his shadows out, their configuring forms covering the windows and the cracks in the doors until it was dark enough for him to remove his wings from around you. With him went the comfort of night-kissed air and warmth and all of the things that made sense in this life you had been dropped into. 

“Rhys has requested that we meet in the study to discuss findings,” Azriel relayed, clearing his throat and standing from his place on the bed. “I laid out some of your things and a servant ran a bath when you started to stir. Do you need help—” 

“I’ve got it,” you interrupted, eyes downcast, feeling as though you’d ruined something that was already painfully delicate. 

“I’ll be here if you need me. Just outside the door.” 

You believed him—you did—but something was missing. Something you couldn’t keep up with. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was in love with someone. Mor, maybe? Or one of the sisters Cassian talked about on occasion? 

The thought of him with his mate made you nauseous. 

You shouldn’t have asked. 

~~

“A replication?” you asked, running a hand along the side of your head in an attempt to look casual about the throbbing taking place there. “So… it is like last time?” 

“Partially, but because the witch’s powers aren’t pure, she was unable to mimic what a full daemati can do. So, same outcome, fewer side effects,” Rhys offered, a calming presence across the table. “Witches often find sources to draw from because they don’t have access to their natural abilities any longer. Your source was—” 

“An opening in her mind,” Azriel concluded, expression guarded as he sat stiffly beside you. “There were remaining injuries in her mind. The witch found her weak points and used them against her.” 

Helion nodded, rounding one of the more ornate chairs and basking in the light streaming through the window. “Very astute. We thought there were no remnants of—” 

“Don’t say his name,” Azriel warned. 

“—of the attack,” Helion quickly corrected, obviously not in the mind to start an argument with the keyed-up spymaster. “But they must have been miniscule. We think she must have been an old witch, very practiced.” 

“So what do we do now?” Cassian gruffly asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the windowsill. You turned to look at him, but the sunlight casting his shadow sent your head ablaze. You quickly righted your gaze and squeezed your eyes shut to compensate. 

You felt shadows stalk beneath your feet and across the floor until they consumed the light of the window. If anyone had any comments on the shadowsinger’s act, they didn’t voice them. 

“Now,” Helion breathed out, dropping into a chair and interlacing his fingers atop the oak table. “We wait. Just like the last time, this kind of power is not something we can simply undo. We need a witch, and witches are incredibly elusive.” 

Trepidation gripped your heart, sending your lungs into a fiery descent. You were just supposed to wait? Wait and hope that maybe, possibly, they would find a witch and fix this before your life moved on without you in it?

Your breath came out in quick, uneven puffs, exacerbating the ache in your head. 

Azriel sat up in his seat, high alert and on the defensive. 

But Rhysand was quicker than his spymaster’s anger. “There is the possibility that this wears off on its own.” 

Your eyes snapped up. “Was that a possibility last time?” 

“No,” Cassian remarked, brows shot up to his hairline. “That’s why you were missing for so long and in so much pain after. You both made it clear that there was no moving whatever the daemati put in her head.” 

Helion and Rhysand shared a look, but your High Lord was the one to speak. “It was weaker this time, more permeable. We think, with time, the wall the witch attempted to replicate will break down and you’ll have everything back. She did only do this to you to flee from attack. It wasn't personal.” 

“How much time?” Azriel strained. 

Helion replied this time. “There is no way to know, shadowsinger.” 

“What about the pain? You said fewer side effects but I couldn’t even have light in my room this morning.” 

Rhysand looked sheepish, eyes darting over to the window still opaque with shadows. “Yes, well—we may have pushed you a bit too far during our assessment.” 

Cassian let out a disbelieving huff from the corner of the room. Azriel gripped the arms of his chair until they groaned. 

“So it’ll go away?” you asked, desperation trickling into your tone. 

The wood beneath Azriel’s hands splintered. 

“Yes, very soon. We can give you some tonics before you leave as well. They will help speed up the process,” Helion promised, eyeing his chair being slowly destroyed. 

In a motion that felt almost second nature, you covered the spymaster’s hand with your own, shadows wrapping around the press of your skin. It was then that you noticed the ring. Silver and unassuming, it took up residence on the ring finger of his left hand and looked like it belonged no place else. 

Our souls are linked, he had said, talking about his mate with such passion. 

You removed your hand from his. 

Azriel flexed his fingers upon your departure. 

“We were thinking,” Rhysand began after a pregnant pause that seemed to blanket the room. “With your pain, we might want to stay a few more days. Winnowing can add extra pressure to the body and flying would—” 

“No,” you were quick to dispute. “No, I want to go home. It’s lovely here, Helion, and I thank you for all you’ve done and are doing, but I want to go back to the Night Court. I want to try and live the life I’ve made for myself, even if I have no idea what I’m doing.” Another pause. “If that’s okay.” 

“Of course that’s okay,” Azriel spoke from beside you. His words sounded dull, his fingers remaining outstretched on the chair. 

“We will continue looking for the witch on our side,” Helion nodded, pushing out of his chair. He came before you then, meeting your gaze. “I cannot apologize enough for what your time in my court has cost you. I only hope that all will return to you. I have missed you, y/n.” 

And then the High Lord of Day was gone, and you had no recollection as to why he would miss you in the first place. Everyone was saying they missed you, even as you stood before them unharmed and intact. 

A harsh reality slammed into you with the departure of the High Lord. 

If you didn’t get your memories back—if there were no witches or deteriorating walls in your mind—they would continue to miss you. You would forever be a husk of your former self, never understanding the full picture of who you were. 

But that wasn’t okay with you—not at all. 

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I CAN'T CLOSE MY EYES ALONE ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; arguing with satoru is always exhausting. bitter and spiteful, you leave him in the bedroom and go find another place to sleep; your couch would be the obvious choice, but where’s the fun in that?

word count; 4.2k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (he calls you ’stubborn girl’ n ’pretty girl’ but other than that it’s gn!!), toru and reader have a fight, reader sleeps in the bathtub (don’t ask it came to me in a vision), hurt/comfort, he's doing his best :<, fluff!!

a/n; smth abt …. arguing w satoru gojo ……. idk why the concept has possessed me in the way that it has i just think hurt/comfort w toru is <33

okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.

in your defense, you weren’t exactly thinking straight; fueled by spite, eager to get far away, and admittedly a little curious as to how it would feel, the decision was made almost purely on impulse. and stupidity, probably.

it’s not comfortable at all.

maybe it could be. maybe if you had just a couple more pillows, a fluffier blanket with a cozier texture. maybe if you had something soft to put beneath you, another blanket or a comforter or — whatever. maybe if you had a warm cup of tea to drink. maybe if you had something warm to hug to sleep. 

or someone.

(aw, what’s wrong? can’t sleep without me after all, huh?)

— nope. you are not going back there. 

just the thought of how smug he’d get makes you bite the inside of your cheek, increasing your already growing frustrations. in desperate search of a more comfortable position, you nuzzle further into the pillow, but nothing works.

your limbs feel stiff, and your bones can’t seem to relax, a discomforting numbness seeping into your spine. and it’s cold. the feeling of porcelain against your skin keeps you tossing and turning, akin to an icy winter breeze, caressing the apple of your cheek. 

still, there’s simply no other option. under absolutely no circumstances can you turn back now. not when you’ve come this far, when you can almost begin to sense an inkling of sleep’s familiar call, the drowsy flutter of your eyelashes.

it takes time, and perseverance — but eventually, the road to sleep does seem to brighten on the horizon. crawling closer and closer, lulling you into its embrace, while all you can do is lie there. completely at its mercy, exhaustion ghosting your subconscious, eyelids ripe with fatigue. 

slowly but surely, your consciousness begins to fade. tenderly, soothingly, like a curtain over your eyes being slowly unveiled. you can almost taste it, on the tip of your tongue; sleep is only a moment away.

soon, you’ll fall into that cozy abyss. and then you’ll open your eyes, and the morning sun will greet you. it’ll be a new day, a better day.

so you keep your eyes closed, and sink a little further into the plush of your pillow, and —

the light flickers on.

in the state you’re in, tiptoeing on the edge between dreams and reality, so tantalizingly close to falling asleep, the brightness is positively grating. even through your shut eyes, it invades your senses — a glow so irritating it’s startling. the bathroom lights mock you with their shine, illuminating your figure, curled up in the tiny bathtub. 

the whine you let out is involuntary, coaxed out from deep within your throat, as the uncomfortable sensation rouses you from your would-be slumber.

satoru raises an unimpressed eyebrow, where he stands by the door.

chest bare, wearing only a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts, he looks at you with tired eyes. exasperation painted onto his dishevelled features. then he clicks his tongue, voice raspy and rich with fatigue.

”you’re ridiculous.”

the judgemental tilt of his voice only makes the annoyance in your veins bubble up once more, just when it was finally about to dwindle. eyes squeezed shut to escape the burn of the artificial light, you let out a sharp wince, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow. 

”turn it off!”

ignoring your angry plea, satoru makes his way over to you. with long, slow strides, vaguely uncoordinated steps. just a little clumsy. he plops down on the edge of the bathtub, and gazes down at you.

you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around a fluffy cushion, knees against your chest. under the illumination of the bathroom lights, he can see you clearly; messy hair that he yearns to ruffle, a crease between your brows that he yearns to smooth away.

you look awfully uncomfortable, to no one’s surprise. he isn’t sure what else you were expecting. 

despite the sting of the bright lights, you force your eyes open — only to give satoru a halfhearted glare, an attempt at appearing intimidating. though you somehow doubt it’ll work.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, satoru tilts his head. soft locks of white hair follow the movement, falling over his eyes, a little more tousled than usual. like he’s been tossing and turning, sprawled out on the bedroom mattress.

and, just like you suspected, the dirty look you send his way doesn’t seem to scare him off. not even in the slightest. if anything, you think you catch a flicker of lazy amusement dancing through his eyes. and it irks you, it does — an itch beneath your skin, a taste of irritation on your tongue.

because satoru is looking at you like you’re somehow in the wrong, here, like you’re the one acting out. as if he isn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.

at this point, you barely even remember what the fight was about. too sleep-deprived to recall it properly, too stressed to make a genuine attempt. all you remember is getting ready for bed, and the familiar sensation of frustration prickling your skin. you remember his pretty little grin, his teasing remarks and refusal to take you seriously.

remember the way he laughed, when you told him what was bothering you; the crinkle of his eyes, the warmth of his hands reaching over to squish your cheeks. a little patronizing.

(there was no malicious intent behind it, that much you know. he probably just wanted to lighten the mood. but it irked you, all the same. hurt you, maybe. just a little bit.)

then you remember storming out. grabbing a blanket and pillow and telling him to sleep on his own, if that’s how he was going to be. the words felt cold as they left your mouth, little breathy icicles. and then you left.

which is why you’re here, right now. curled up in your goddamn bathtub, for some reason that still escapes you, trying desperately to get even a wink of sleep without your boyfriend there to help.

and that’s also why satoru is here, back a tad slouched as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you like you’re some misbehaving cat. blinking slowly, drowsily, dragged down by the fatigue clinging to his eyelashes. 

(he can’t sleep, either.)

”you’re really gonna sleep in there?” he sighs, after a moment’s pause. any honest concern in his voice is almost entirely overshadowed by the sense of admonition that follows it.

a scoff falls from your lips, sharp like a razorblade. ”yes,” you deadpan, shifting to lie on your stomach, hiding away from his insistent view. ”i was sleeping just fine before you barged in here.”

satoru shoots you a look, thoroughly unimpressed, entirely unconvinced of your blatant lie. ”you’re being dumb,” he huffs. ”at least sleep on the couch.”

”i don’t wanna hear that from you,” comes a hiss, low and disgruntled. a growing irritation. ”and i’m comfortable where i am.”

another dissatisfied huff. why are you being so irrational? he just doesn’t get it. scrambling for excuses, satoru tries his hand at another tactic. 

”you’ll hurt your back.”

another little scoff. oh, so now he suddenly cares? you can’t believe him. 

”so what?”

a moment passes. satoru bites his lip, teeth sinking softly into the flesh; a little pang of ache, but it’s nothing compared to the twist of discomfort in his chest. you’re making this more difficult than it has to be, he thinks. always so stubborn. 

what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to convince you to come back to bed, when you’re already so set on denying him?

god, he’s tired. he just wants to sleep, close his jaded eyes. just wants to not have to think, for a couple hours, curled up with the only person who makes him feel safe. just wants to dream in soft shapes.

but if you aren’t there, then…

a deep sigh. weary, annoyed. ”c’mon,” he coaxes, blinking sluggishly. ”you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without me. can’t we just make up already?”

your nails dig into the fabric of your blanket. every word he says only seems to deepen the sense of irritation plaguing your sleep-deprived mind.

it makes you want to shut him out, bury your head in the soft sheets and forget about everything else. he keeps acting like you’re just overreacting, like you wanted to have an argument. like he wasn’t the one who made you upset and then laughed at you about it. 

”i don’t need you to fall asleep,” you grumble, muffled by the pillow in your grasp, arms tightening around it. nuzzling deeper into the soft velvet comfort.

satoru’s fingers twitch, as if urging him to pull you close. he almost glares at the cushion in your arms, that you’re hugging so fondly, putting all your body weight on — snuggling into it in search of comfort and warmth.

(that should be his chest.)

the gears in his head turn, slowly and mechanically, as he brings a hand up to card through his hair.

satoru hates seeing you so upset, so far away from him. having to watch you close yourself off, not allowing him to be near, soothe you and take care of you. kiss all your worries away. that’s all he wants to do, everything he needs to keep himself whole, to keep himself from being devoured by an exhaustion he’s lived with for as long as he can remember.

a strong frustration gnaws at his conscience. a certain desperation.

a big, heavy sigh leaves his lips. it bounces off the walls of the bathroom, the white tiles and shiny mirror, as he drags it out. almost childishly. then he’s angling his body to face you properly, big hands resting on his knees, a determined gaze set on your figure.

”look, i’m sorry,” he starts, rigid and earnest. blinking once, twice, chasing away the drowsy weight of his eyelids. ”i shouldn’t have laughed.”

your ears perk up.

shifting to your side as if hoping to hear him better, you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes. almost in disbelief, a kind of hope sprouting in the corners of your dilated pupils.

is he genuinely going to apologize, you wonder? admit that he was in the wrong? does he actually feel bad?

a moment passes. slow, drawn out, until satoru’s voice spills into the air again.

”there. i apologized,” he exhales, a little gruff. annoyed. ”now will you please just come to bed?”

…

wow. 

okay, nevermind. you hope the ceiling fan falls on him.

beneath your skin, a mellow kind of anger bubbles up, blood slowly coming to a boiling point. he’s not sorry at all. of course he isn’t. you were stupid to think he’d actually give you a sincere apology, stupid to think he’d do the one thing that would actually make you want to fall back into his comforting embrace. stupid, stupid. 

clenching your teeth, nails digging into the velvet fabric of the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut once more. only this time, you don’t plan on opening them again — at least not until morning comes. not until you see the sunkissed tiles of the bathroom, until the ache inside your chest has passed.

”satoru,” you enunciate, frigid and final. ”just let me sleep. we can talk tomorrow.” a beat. the tiniest grumble resounds from your lips, tinged with exhaustion. ”i’m too tired for this.”

under his breath, satoru winces. that palpable fatigue in your words sends a tremor running through his chest, discomforting, a shiver of his heart. you won’t look at him anymore, and the hint of finality in your tone makes him feel slightly dejected.

god, he’s awful at this. sincerity has never been his strong suit. he’s gotten better, lately, but it’s still so very foreign.

he didn’t mean to make you angry, didn’t mean to upset you. didn’t mean for the lilt of his voice to make his apology sound insincere. but that’s still what happened.

and satoru isn’t quite sure what to do. 

he’s tired. eyes heavy with lost sleep, glimpses of would-be nightmares he knows he’d have were he to fall asleep right now. an anxious lump has long since formed in the back of his throat, and he misses you. misses your presence, your warmth. misses the feeling of having you close, the knowledge that you haven’t left yet.

(without you, he can’t —)

a sigh. soft, and resigned, flowing from his lips.

the inner turmoil in satoru’s mind begins to fade, slowly but surely, smoothed away by the sight of you. bundled up in a blanket too small to cover you properly, lying in that cold and cramped bathtub, discomfort evident in your features. sadness dripping from the bitter words you grace him with.

so out of reach, too far for him to follow, a boundary he wants to cross more than anything. but something about that meek expression makes him falter, makes his heart twist and turn inside his ribcage.

(he knows that you’re tired, too.)

so satoru swallows his pride.

the words are spoken in a whisper, hushed, through a voice so low you wouldn’t hear it if the silence of the bathroom wasn’t so suffocating. a soft lilt of his voice, bare and raw. meek, in a way that makes him want to crawl under a rock and die. but it’s there, and he lets you hear it; that soft little truth.

”… i can’t sleep without you.”

satoru doesn’t look at you. his confession rings in your ears, laced together with a softness you’ve come to associate with warm spring mornings and rooms so dark you can’t see his face. moments in which satoru feels safe. safe enough to be sincere.

— inevitably, your heart begins to soften.

(he’s trying. it’s difficult for him, but he’s really trying. sincerity and honesty are things that have been used against him all his life, so it’s no wonder he’d be scared.)

it’s very hard to stay mad at him, when he sounds like that. when his words come out sounding a little too much like a plea, a silent call for help. 

with hesitance, you allow your eyes to flutter open, shifting a little to get a better look at him. he’s there, staring into space — the man you’ve grown to love so dearly. his tousled white hair, those slightly forlorn eyes. the vague darkness beneath them, slightly puffy skin. that tired, tired expression. 

satoru taps the edge of the tub with the pads of his fingers, absentmindedly. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over.

then, at last, he meets your gaze. and you think he swallows down a gulp, before smiling — it’s a pretty smile, somewhat tiny. a little sheepish, but awfully sincere. awfully satoru.

he tilts his head, gazing into your eyes with a tenderness that melts your heart to the marrow.

”… please?”

a second passes. then two. 

soft and melodic, your heartbeat resounds in your ears, akin to a lullaby. like the call of a siren, coaxing you into giving in. and you’re weak, you realize, so very weak. just a smile and a tilt of his head, and you’re rendered utterly helpless. 

(he’s just too pretty.)

without fully realizing it yourself, you’ve begun to move, dragging yourself up with sluggish motions. blanket still draped over your shoulders, and pillow snug against your chest, you blink. drowsily, slowly. a little meekly. 

and satoru brightens.

it’s visible, in the way he physically perks up, back straightening, smile finally reaching his aquamarine eyes. a blend between hope and affection sprouts in them, slathered over with something honeyed.

a soft grin blooms on his lips, and he opens his arms wide — silently beckoning you to fall into his embrace. a raspy coo tiptoes on his tongue. 

”c’mere.”

before you can make a move to do so, satoru leans over. scooping you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing, tucking you into his warm embrace. smothering you in his cushiony chest.

almost instinctively, your arms go to wrap around his neck, cheek smushed against the warm skin of his shoulder. if you strain your ears, you think you can hear the soft patter of his heartbeat. he smells of the tiramisu you ate before going to bed, and just a hint of expensive cologne. he smells of comfort.

satoru is soft, and warm, and everything you need right now. lulling you back into that cozy, sleepy state. your very own personal dose of melanin.

with a big palm on the small of your back, satoru keeps you pressed up against his chest, as if you could change your mind and try to escape at any moment. he stands up, still holding you, and hikes your legs around his waist. breathing out a satisfied hum, before turning on his heel.

satoru smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. ”let’s get you back to bed, baby.”

after turning the bathroom lights off, he begins to walk to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with one arm. always so strong and reliable. you know for a fact that he’s not going to drop you, so you opt to close your tired eyes; stretching out your limbs, lazily, releasing a quiet yawn that makes his lips curl up.

despite your lingering frustration, you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck — and satoru coos, so painfully soft that you barely even hear it. the restlessness inside his own chest washed away, by the familairity of your body against his.

and before you know it, he’s dropped you down on the mattress. gently, but still enough to make you feel a little jostled, so close to falling asleep in his arms. he drags the blanket up to cover you, tucking you in; this one is bigger, with a fluffier texture, enough to cover you both with ease.

smiling softly at the sight of you all cozy, content in the knowledge that you’re finally comfortable, satoru crawls beneath the blanket and takes his rightful place beside you. eyes crinkled at the corners, rich with affection.

two strong arms reach around your waist, to pull you flush against him, until your head meets his chest and you can hear the soft thrumming of his heartstrings. then he sighs, in pure bliss, thoroughly content. melting into your embrace, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, nuzzling into the warmth that seeps from your body to his.

he runs his big hands down your back, affectionately, rubbing circles into your skin. coaxing you into melting a little, too.

”see, isn’t this much better?” he smiles, a little cheeky. such a tease.

”… the bathtub was fine.”

a chuckle rumbles through his chest, rich with fondness. his hand goes to card through your hair, nimble fingers smoothing down your scalp and running through the soft strands. every touch gentle, full of care. every word soaked in a syrupy sweetness.

”stubborn girl.”

despite your best wishes, you’re too tired to bite back the blissful sigh that leaves your lips. a part of you still wants to protest, to push him away —

but then you start leaning into his touch. helpless to his warm hands, his soothing voice. satoru is just a little too good at making you melt. so good that you finally begin to let your guard down, nuzzling into his bare skin, sinking a little further into the mattress. 

and satoru stifles a coo. 

”honestly,” he sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. ”sleeping in the bathtub… you’re so silly.”

before you have a chance to respond, he’s pulling back — ever so slightly, just to get a better look at your face. arms looped around his neck, you blink up at him with droopy eyes, and he can’t resist the dopey grin that sneaks its way onto his lips. doesn’t even begin to try, when you look so unbearably sweet.

unable to stop himself, he broaches the distance between you, leaning close to kiss the top of your nose. and you squeeze your eyes shut at the gesture, face scrunching up, but it only makes him chuckle. smiling, honey-sweet, he admires your sleepy pout. soaks up every soft little grumble that slips from your lips.

his hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb smoothing down your cheekbone. just gazing at you, taking you in, every single contour of your face. there is only adoration in his eyes. something silently delighted, that seeps into his words, his raspy voice.

”my pretty, pretty girl.”

a heat rushes to your cheeks. looking up at him, into those lovesick eyes, you can’t help but grow flustered.

he looks so content.

all you manage is a weak furrow of your brows, pressing a palm against his bare skin. softly, as if pushing him away, forehead meeting his chest with a soft bonk. hiding away, so he won’t see how much his words affect you.

”lemme sleep, toru…” you mumble, stifling a yawn.

unfortunately, your boyfriend is not one to give in so easily. before long, his fingertips are trailing across the skin of your jaw, coaxing you into lifting your chin. and you’re too sleepy to resist — practically melting, as he begins to smear openmouthed kisses all over your face. all you can do is close your eyes, attempting to ignore the sound of his exaggerated mwahs, frowning in a silent disapproval that you know you don’t actually mean.

satoru notices it, though. he always does.

”you still mad at me, baby?” he asks, in a way that sounds a little like he’s cooing at you. there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but it’s also a genuine question. your frown deepens.

averting your gaze with a soft huff, even as he cradles your jaw with his slender fingers, a pout plays at your lips. under his kind eyes, you feel just a bit meek — recalling your argument from before. absentmindedly, you fidget with the waistband of his shorts, hoping to ease your nerves.

despite your valiant efforts to direct your vocal cords in a different direction, the voice that spills from your lips comes out sounding just a tad hurt.

”… you never take me seriously.”

satoru’s eyes soften.

his smile falters, by a hair, a brief stilling of movement. subtle, but hard not to pick up on. there’s a certain sense of shame in his irises, a genuine guilt stirring his heartstrings; several discomforting sensations, gnawing at the bones of his ribcage.

(you look so small.)

two hands reach out to cup your cheeks, big and warm. swallowing up your whole face. and before you can react, satoru leans in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your lips. he tastes like tiramisu. 

”’m sorry. we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he hums, and you can tell that he means it. ”i promise that i’ll take you seriously. for real, this time.”

as you look into those eyes of his, blue and soft around the edges, the last of your frustration is finally washed away. with a meek downward glance, and a faint nod, satoru relaxes — releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. relieved at your silent forgiveness.

tomorrow, he’ll definitely make it up to you. he’ll hear you out, without opening his big mouth, or trying to skirt around any emotions that make him feel even slightly uncomfortable. smoothing a big palm down your back, he hopes you feel it as a silent apology. 

for now, he’ll just hold you. he’ll hold you, and kiss all your worries away, and keep you comfy and warm. that’s his duty. the only one he’d willingly choose, the only weight on his shoulders that never feels even a little bit suffocating. the only one he wouldn’t cast away, if given the chance.

nuzzling back into the safety of his collarbone, your heartbeat settles into a drowsy rhythm, slow and serene. satoru squeezes you in a tight hug, reassuring. comforting.

he can be a handful, and a little insensitive, but you love him a lot. you can’t imagine not loving him. 

”… goodnight, toru,” you whisper. ready to give into sleep’s call, at last.

satoru smiles. you can hear it in his voice, sweet and silky, a soft curl of his lips. ”goodnight, honey,” he presses a kiss against your shoulder. warm, his breath on your skin. ”i love you.”

a yawn escapes your throat. ”love you too…” you mumble, sleepily. that one soft truth, before your consciousness fades.

and satoru’s smile only grows. hopelessly, inevitably, in the same way his hands can’t help but to bring you closer. until your heart is flush against his own, and he swears he can feel your heartbeats synchronize.

finally, with those three little words, satoru should be able to go to sleep. drifting off, he can only hope you’ll still be in his arms by the time he awakens.

(then again; you always are, aren’t you?)

[strang3lov3]

I have some thoughts on what’s been happening, and I’ve bit my tongue out of not wanting to get involved in this fabricated bullshit, because it feels pointless and exhausting to rehash what’s been said so many times before. But I am done watching people project their own insecurities onto this fandom space to fuel witch hunts against writers that we read, writers that inspire our own writing. 

This confessions blog is a fucking plague and is born of nothing but pure hatred and jealousy. The people running it and the ones participating in the bullying are being abusive and cruel, and it needs to end. It has fostered an environment of hostility, where everyone in this community feels anxious and upset knowing that this blog is giving a megaphone to anyone to say whatever they want - and absolutely nothing is off the table. Bullying, sexual harassment, misogyny is not only allowed to exist in that space, but encouraged, whether the admins say it is or isn't. They can say whatever they want and it's displayed publicly for everyone to see, yet the only ones who bear responsibility are the people being targeted. Meanwhile, these anonymous individuals enjoy and exploit the privilege of not having their names or blogs attached to their words. This has created a deeply imbalanced power dynamic in our community, and shame on that blog and the individuals contributing to it.

If you are participating in this toxicity, please know that what you are doing is an incredibly immature, selfish, and damaging thing to do to not just to individual writers, but our community as a whole. It doesn't just hurt the people targeted by name and by vague mentions, it trickles down and negatively affects everyone here - both readers and writers, people who take time out of their day to contribute to this space in a positive way for all of us to enjoy, all for free. It is unfair to shade and snark on writers on a confessions blog for not bending to your personal standard or perceived notion of how they should be conducting themselves in this community. I don't know how to make this any clearer, you do not get to dictate how writers engage on this platform. If you cannot look past your own myopic point of view to realize this, you need to log off until you realize that your selfish and entitled behavior will land you absolutely nowhere, and is actively damaging a space people have worked hard to make safe and welcoming.  

To anyone who has perpetuated this hate, your actions are causing real pain and doing lasting damage to real people. You are not a hero, you are not helping anyone by bullying and making this community an unstable and threatening place.

If you have an issue with a writer, figure it out in private. This bullshit needs to come to an end because running around in confessions blogs, hiding behind that cloak of anonymity, is not only pathetic, but it reinforces that this entire drama/discourse is born out of your insecurities and need for validation. You should be embarrassed by your actions.

[mt-oe]

Ummm

Mizu with breeding kink ???? 😵‍💫🫣

Please 🙏

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Sorry for being so late on this and thank you for requesting ;;

I hope I somehow make up for it with how I wrote it. Honestly though, this was one of the requests I expected to receive and actually receiving it was so funny. In all seriousness, I really appreciate it <3

Sorry if this one sucks or isn't up to what you'd like it to be. I don't think I cooked with this one since I wanted to try something slightly different ;; Please don't get mad or disappointed in me. I'll do better next time!

Anyways, hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa <3

warning/s: not proofread, smut (mdni!), mention of impregnation, referring to the strap as a cock/dick, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

Clear blue eyes followed your figure with a seemingly neutral expression. Mizu had to remind herself numerous times that she agreed to this, that whatever the fuck she was currently feeling was the consequence of her own agreement.

The situation was simpler that it seems actually. It was the middle of summer, sun shining and the heat cooking it up. She had decided that it was a good time to modify and make the necessary repairs to her motorbike. However, just as she was about to finish and wash her bike, you had woken up and joined her.

Reason unknown to her, the idea of washing her bike seemed so appealing to you. "Let me do it. Just tell me how," you insisted, grabbing the sponge from her. Aww damn, you looked so excited too.

There was no harm in letting you, right?

That was where she was wrong. What seemed like an innocent little task ended up making her so fucking internally flustered. She knew it was hot out. Sweat was already soaking her back, dripping down her neck and chin. But what she didn't expect was for you to come help her in your tank top and shorts.

Now her thoughts were spiraling between wanting to help you and wanting to bend you down on her bike and fuck you until her seats were dripping.

Admiring your body, her eyes couldn't help but admire the way it moved as you hauled the hose over to her bike, untangling the rubber. She noticed the way the fabric of your clothes clung to your body from the sweat and something poking through your top. Fuck...you weren't wearing a bra, weren't you?

This was really her fault. The wetness between her legs was purely her fault. Why did she even agree to this?

"So I just avoid the fuel tank and the exhaust?" you asked her, voice almost radiating with innocent excitement as you directed the hose towards her bike. Your giggles filling the garage as you played with the water pressure, droplets splashing back everywhere.

Water ran down your arms, your collarbone down to your shirt, making it slightly see-through. Her gaze followed its trajectory with deep fascination, breath hitching almost violently as it landed on to your breasts.

She didn't know what was wrong with her today. She wasn't usually this uncontrollably horny, but goddamn. Maybe she was ovulating or something. Because right now, she wanted nothing more than to slip her hands under your shirt, pull you close to her so she could hear the soft sweet sounds from your mouth while she toyed with your nipples.

The image of your cheeks flushing red as you looked up at her, ass grinding against hers wantonly while you bit your lip. Your breath would hitch with every pinch, every tug, even with every squeeze. Small pleas and mewls would accompany the way your hips would move against hers like a dance meant for her only. "Do we really have to do this right now? L-Let's just go back in and fuck ple—"

splash.

"Am I doing this right? Why aren't you talking?" She was pulled out of the trance she was in as you splashed the water by her feet, making her jump a bit. You raised an eyebrow at her odd behavior, placing a hand on your hip. "Are you okay?" you asked, tilting your head a bit.

Mizu cleared her throat and nodded, lifting her head but looking everywhere except at you. "Yeah...The heat's just getting to me," she replied, trying her best to appear nonchalant and turning her focus to her bike. "It looks good just make sure to use the soft side of the sponge when you soap it."

You nodded in understanding before sauntering over to the cabinets to look for the soap. Eyebrows furrowing, your eyes scanned over each bottle before moving to the next cabinet. Just when she thought she could take a break, you suddenly got on your knees as you looked for the soap on the lower shelves. "Is it on this shelf?" you asked, pointing at it.

Yup, it was actually on that shelf, but damn fuck it.

"No, I think it's on the bottom one," she answered, leaning forward in her seat slightly, pretending to look. You gave her a small nod and shifted, bending over further. While you were busy turning every bottle on the shelf in search for the soap, she let her imagination wander further. Her eyes tracing the curvature, fingers twitching ever so slightly at the urge to head over for a small grab.

She'd place a hand on your back and push you down further, forcing you to arch your back for her while her other hand slipped under the fabric of your shorts, feeling the wetness growing on your panties. The tips of her fingers dipping ever so slightly, just enough to feel it but never enough to get off on it. Oh how sweetly you'd whine.

And if you pleaded well enough to satisfy her, she might just slip her hand under your panties, dip her fingers in your entrance shallowly to gather a bit of slick before moving up to your clit. The hand on your back would be replaced by her body, pressing down on you to keep you from squirming too much while she toys with the sensitive bundle of nerves.

She'd start out at a deliberately slow pace, tracing shapes on to your clit, drawing out each moan and gasp from your lips until you were whining and begging her to go faster. But she'd keep you there, until you could yourself dripping onto her fingers, entrance throbbing as if asking her to fill you up.

You'd beg her to put it in, eyes teary and hazed with lust. If you begged hard enough to please her, she'd tangle her fingers within the locks of your hair and grip it, pulling you up with one hand while she put her strap on with the other.

"Use your mouth," she'd order you, pushing your head towards the tip of the silicone. Gratefully, you open your mouth and give the head a few kitten licks to get it nice and wet before wrapping your lips around it. Moans reverberating in your throat as she pushes you down, causing your eyes to water as you choke on the plastic, gasping deeply upon pulling away before she pushes you down again.

Your jaw would definitely hurt, but you'd take it for her.

You were a good girl, weren't you?

Once her strap was wet enough, she'd pull your hair back and make you bend over her bike. Her hands would hurriedly pull your shorts down along with your panties before aligning herself against your hole. She'd watch as the toy sinks inside of your entrance, your thighs jiggling slightly as you trembled, a loud moan ripping from your mouth while your eyes rolled back. Wet squelching noises would echo in the garage while she—

"Woah I found it!" you chirped, sitting up with the bottle of soap in your hands.

Fuck. Damnit.

"Where was it?" she asked, pretending not to know. "It was on the middle shelves. I guess you misplaced it," you replied, standing up and closing the cabinet. Mizu nodded and changed the way she crossed her legs, trying to keep the arousal between her legs quelled.

You made your way over to her bike before curiously pouring the soap in a bucket of water, swishing your hand inside to create some bubbles before dipping the sponge in and scrubbing her bike. Your giggles and small hummed tunes sounded around while you worked excitedly, aiming to please your lover.

Meanwhile, her head was reeling with images of your figure bent-over her bike while she plows her dick in you. "You're moaning like a bitch," she'd groan, a slight chuckle leaving her lips as you whined in response, brain unable to form words. "I could probably put a baby in you if I wanted to."

A baby?

Yeah that sounds like a good idea, your fucked-out brain would say

Your head would nod desperately, making her laugh. "That sound good to you?" she'd ask almost mockingly, gripping your chin to make you look at her. She'd admire how fucked silly you looked. How pretty you were even when your mind was overwhelmed with pleasure, tears streaming from your eyes, drool at the side of your lips. "Mhm...cum in me please," you'd beg her, a sultry laughter mixing in with your moans, making her groan.

Her lips would kiss you from the temples down to your neck, one hand rubbing your clit in circles while she went in deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin would echo around. A sense of satisfaction washing over her upon hearing your moans turn into squeals and sobs. "I'll blow it deep inside you...make you the prettiest momma," she'd whisper, smirk ghosting her lips as you nodded, letting out a long drawn whine. Her hands would grip the plush of your ass while sexing out any coherent thoughts you'd have left. She'd go in so deep you'd think you could feel her from your liver to your lungs.

"Cum in me...please..love.." you'd beg, face against her seat as your arms grew weaker. Your words sending a rush of heat to her loins, encouraging her to go faster. Her dick may be plastic but she'd sure as hell give you what you want. Mizu's movements would grow more erratic, aiming to give you what you begged her for.

You want her to cum in you? She fucking will. She'd push it in so deep you'd forget it was impossible. The tip of her dick would make your cervix bruise while you couldn't help but ask for more. Ask her to fuck you more.

To fuck you harder.

To fuck her babies into you.

Fuuuuuck.

You'd feel the intense coil of climax building up inside you. Your cries and moans would get louder with every thrust. A loud cry followed by incoherent sobbing would accompany your release. "O-Oh shit.." you'd gasp out, a weak moan leaving you as she slowly pulled out, a ring of your cum creaming at the base of her cock. Your figure would slowly sink down to the floor, knees too weak to keep you body up. "Fuck.. Mizu.."

"Mizu? Mizu! Hey Mizu!"

Your voice once again pulls her out of her imagination with a jolt. A surprised noise coming from you as you stepped back. "W-What's going on?" she asked, looking around as she tried to pull herself to reality.

A confused look graces your features before you step back to show her your work. "I'm finished. And I put the wax on too. You do do that, right?" you asked her, frowning a bit at how red her cheeks were. "Actually forget that. Are you okay?"

She coughs a bit, straightening herself up. "Its just the heat," she answers, grasping the collar of her shirt to fan herself. Uncrossing her legs, she grimaces at the slip of her wetness between her legs.

"Are you sure?" you ask her, tilting your head and bending down a bit. Blue eyes wandered down to your chest again, blanking out slightly before she nods, then pausing as a thought rushes through her head.

"Actually.. I do think you can help me with something," she says.

"What is it?"

"Let's go inside first."

[darkfluffydragon]

Cookie Run AU Ideas #8: Timeless Kingdom

what if Pure Vanilla Cookie, instead of being amnesiac outside with Black Raisin, was instead trapped in the Vanilla Castle time loop? But because of the Light of Truth, he's aware of it? he's been stuck there for...hundreds of years, watching his people die over and over again nothing ever changes no matter what he does and then finally, Gingerbrave shows up. I mean, PV may be nice but there are only so many times he can hear the same monologue before he gets reaaaally sick of it gonna join GC on the hate train and he physically isn't able to do anything "out of script". Every time he tries, he sort of 'loses control of his body', since it's a memory time loop you can't just change a memory and since he's a part of it, it'll force him to go along with it. To play his role. Gingerbrave and his friends probably wouldn't even realise he's not a memory at first, that the Pure Vanilla is the real one.

And an extra I wrote for the AU >:3

Pure Vanilla Cookie awoke with a start, his eyes snapping open to the familiar sight of his bed’s golden canopy. His head throbbed, and his mind felt muddled, a fog of pain and confusion clouding his thoughts. He struggled to sit up, the effort sending sharp jolts of agony through his body. As he gathered his bearings, fragments of memories began to resurface—the battle against Dark Enchantress Cookie, the ruins of his castle, and the faces of his friends, Golden Cheese Cookie, Dark Cacao Cookie, Hollyberry Cookie, and White Lily Cookie.

They had arrived to aid him, late, their expressions grim and determined. By then, he had already spent hours running through the chaos, trying desperately to heal his people. But no matter how hard he tried, the cake monsters kept coming, relentless and unyielding. He remembered the wounds they all bore. The exhaustion that clung to their bones as they fought to protect their home, their kingdom. With his magic reserves depleted, there had been a point where he had started reaching into the depths of his being, drawing upon his very essence—his life powder and soul to fuel his spells.

He remembered the final confrontation against her, he had used Dark Moon Magic, a power he had sworn never to touch. ~~The magic most natural to him.~~ The last time he had seen it wielded, it had led to the academy's destruction. But there had been no other choice. He had cast the banishment spell, lifting himself into the air as Dark Enchantress Cookie tore their Souljams, their very souls, from them. The explosion had ripped through the kingdom, the pain blinding and all-consuming. And then, nothing.

Now, here he was, awake once more. Why? How? As these questions swirled in his mind, he felt a strange sensation, as if invisible strings were tugging at his limbs. Panic surged through him as he realised he was moving against his will, his body tracing the exact path of his memories. He tried to speak, to cry out, but no sound escaped his lips.

“No! Run! Dark Enchantress is coming! Evacuate the cookies!” he screamed, his voice hoarse with desperation. But the words seemed to dissipate into the air, unheard and unheeded. The cookies outside moved about their routines, oblivious to the impending doom. Children played in the streets, vendors hawking their wares, and guards patrolled, all blissfully unaware of the threat looming over them.

The nightmare would unfold before him with horrifying clarity. His friends—the heroes—were nowhere to be seen. Instead, dark silhouettes had taken their place, shadowy figures that seemed to mock his efforts. Was it because of the Souljams? Could this memory not replicate them because of the artefacts which housed their power? 

The endless battle raged around him, the air thick with the stench of smoke and the cries of the wounded. Cake monsters swarmed the castle, their grotesque forms looming over the terrified cookies. Pure Vanilla’s attempts to heal his people felt like trying to stop a flood with a sieve. Every spell he cast seemed to evaporate into nothingness, swallowed by the overwhelming darkness.

The invisible strings tightened around him. It constricted his movements, squeezing his mind. His autonomy slipped further away with each passing moment. The fog in his mind grew denser, suffocating his thoughts.

He felt every wound, every drop of jam that spilled, every life that was lost. He could see the faces of his people contorted in terror and agony, and hear their screams echoing in his mind. His friends fought, their forms blurred by exhaustion and jam. Yet no matter how hard they fought, the cake monsters kept coming, an endless tide of destruction.

The sky would fill with magic circles, blue eyes of the runes staring down at the target as he used magic that he swore to never use, for the second time. He would see her malevolent grin, and feel the agony of the explosion that followed. 

And then, he was back in his bed, the cycle beginning anew. The loops continued, over and over, each one more harrowing than the last. As time stretched into eternity, Pure Vanilla Cookie felt his thoughts growing quieter. Centuries seemed to pass, each loop eroding a bit more of his will. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, and soon, he feared, he would no longer be able to think. In the moments of silence, his mind would turn to White Lily Cookie, the one he had loved so deeply. She had become Dark Enchantress Cookie, the architect of his suffering and the destroyer of his kingdom. Yet, despite everything, he still loved her.

The pain of that love was like rose thorns digging into his heart, a constant, aching reminder of what once was. He had loved her so dearly, had kept her transformation a secret from their friends, hoping against hope that she could be redeemed. But now, as he watched his beloved kingdom and its innocent people crumble time and time again, the anguish was almost too much to bear.

To love White Lily Cookie was to love a rose. To love her was to let the rose crawl up him, letting its hurtful thorns dig into his fragile dough. His jam would paint the delicate petals red, and once gone, wounds and scars would be left to taunt him of his foolish desire.

She had been gifted a bouquet of hearts, yet the only one his moon had taken was his own. She dangled the prize in front of him like a carrot on a stick, and he ran the race despite being the only competitor. She blindfolded him of the fact, and let Pure Vanilla run himself ragged until he could give no more. Then, she left. Left with everything that was Pure Vanilla, left him empty and hurting. Trapped. Left in all her gentle and loving glory, as her beautiful soul was tainted and twisted into the monster that had taken her place.

He did not care for the traitorous thoughts wondering if he was feeling the wrong feelings and thinking the wrong thoughts. He could not care, for he loved her nonetheless. Loved her poisonous, uncompleted promises. Loved her for the nights of waiting by the academy garden, gazing up at the sky, at clouds that would never part to allow him a glimpse of her smile. Loved her for the incomplete dances she swore she would return for, leaving him alone and abandoned in an empty ballroom. He loved her unconditionally. And for this, White Lily Cookie had become his greatest torment.

Each encounter felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart. The sight of Dark Enchantress Cookie, her once gentle eyes now filled with malice, was a reminder of everything he had lost. She had been his moon, his guiding light, and he had loved her with a purity that he had thought unbreakable. But the darkness that had taken her was relentless, and it had shattered her, and him, beyond repair.

The White Lily Cookie he loved was gone, replaced by the Dark Enchantress Cookie who revelled in his suffering. She was the creator of his endless torment, the reason his kingdom lay in ruins, and his people were lost

What a fool he was.

Pure Vanilla Cookie, awoke in a bed not his own. His limbs were not strung by strings that cut into his dough, and his thoughts were…loud. Clarity such as this was so incredibly rare.

He took in the room, noting how the other cookies, the ones who had…saved him, were still asleep. Quietly, he slipped out of the room, his steps soft and deliberate, as if any sound might shatter this fragile moment of peace. The hallway was dimly lit, shadows playing along the walls. He moved with purpose, though his heart was heavy with the familiar ache of his memories.

Reaching the garden, he paused for a moment at the entrance, breathing in the cool night air. The scent of flowers and earth was a reminder of simpler times. He walked towards the patch of lily flowers, their white petals glowing softly under the moonlight. 

Sitting down among the lilies, he stared up at the moon, its pale light casting a gentle glow over the garden. The tranquillity of the night wrapped around him, and for a brief moment, he felt the weight of his sorrow lift.

His thoughts turned, as they always did, to White Lily Cookie. The moon reminded him of her—bright, beautiful, yet distant and untouchable. He remembered their nights in the academy garden, the way she would laugh and talk about the future with such hope. Those memories were bittersweet now, coloured by the centuries of pain.

The garden was silent except for the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Pure Vanilla Cookie closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him. He could almost hear her voice, see her smile. But then the image would shift, and he would see her as she was now—cold, dark, and filled with a malice that seemed impossible for someone who had once been so kind. He hated that he loved White Lily, a love that had once been pure and untainted. But he loathed Dark Enchantress to the point it hurt.

As the night wore on, Pure Vanilla sat alone. Though he could pretend that he was not, that there was another by his side. Perhaps…even four, all five of them together, underneath the starlit sky with the scent of campfire smoke in the air.  He did not know how long this clarity would last, how long before he would be pulled back into the muddy thoughts and fog. But for now, he rested in the peace of the garden, and the bittersweet memories of the one he loved.

Under the moonlight, surrounded by the lilies, he allowed himself to simply be. To remember, to grieve, and to love, even if it was only for a brief, stolen moment.

[weepingchronicles]

yan!azula (atla) getting back reader 🙏🏻 (headcanons, or one shot please!)

yandere azula x airbender reader (part 2) platonic or romantic tw/cw: yandere, choking, death threats, verbal abuse, possessive behavior a/n: erm guys.. it's getting kinda scary  😰 😰 (part 1)

being with aang and the others was unlike anything you've ever experienced.

when you first met everyone you were scared- but they all welcomed you with open arms. katara emphasized with you, having her mother also die at the hands of the fire nation. sokka tried to flirt with you, which you were oblivious to, until aang and katara told him to knock it off. after that, you became like katara to him, like a younger sibling who'd he protect.

you were so naive to the world, never stepping foot outside of the fire nation before.

when aang had told you his story, how he was in a iceberg for 100 years and was the avatar, but more importantly one of the last airbenders- you could hardly believe it.

the more the gang told you their stories, the clear it became that the fire nation had took away your parents, your culture and your freedom. you knew azula was evil, but you still believed you had no other choice but follow her.

you told aang that you had no airbending ability, you thought you'd be discarded away, just for being useless

but aang did no such thing, just offering a smile and saying he's just glad he has someone from home.

and you did feel at home.

You woke up to shaking, and your eyes immediately lit up. For a minute, you were back in the palace. Azula waking you up so she could sleep beside you. It was when we were in our younger years and Azula would wake you up at odd hours of night, slipping with you under your blanket. You assumed it was because she had nightmares, you did too, but you never dared ask her about it, fearing you'd end up with a scar like Zuko's.

You woke up from your flashbacks and took in to the actual scene in front of you. It's Aang.

"What's wrong?" "It's someone. They're following, come on, we need to get onto Appa."

You all pack your sleeping bags and ride on Appa. It's still the middle of the night, and the cooling wind blowing past your hair is not making your exhaustion any better.

Finally you all spot a place to settle down, it's in a middle of a forest which will be hard for anyone to navigate through

You lay out your tents and sleeping bags again to finally rest. You find yourself somewhat missing Azula, when she would be nice for once and fall asleep beside each other until morning. You push back those thoughts, remembering how she treated you. If she really cared she'd let you go and be happy.

With all these thoughts swirling in your head, you don't notice yourself start falling asleep.

You feel a hand on your mouth causing you to snap your eyes open. There she is, Azula. It's only been a week and she's already found you. Your eyes look to where the rest of the gang were sleeping but instead they're gone!

"Aw, don't look so surprised. You really thought I wouldn't go looking for my favorite pet?" The nickname made you cringe and Azula removes her hand from over your mouth, but both her knees restrain your arms to the ground.

"Where's Aang, Katara and Sokka!?" You spit out, but you instantly regret when you see Azula's sly smirk turn to an expression of jealous rage.

"Really? I could kill you right now but you're more worried about your friends!?" Before you could reply, her hand slapped over your neck, squeezing around your throat. Perfect manicured nails dug into your flesh, practically leaching the breath you had left in your lungs out of you. Azula's eyes leaked of fiery rage, pure fuel and the truth is you've never seen her like this. She's dangerous, more dangerous than ever before but she is not as calculated. You knew that Mai and Ty Lee couldn't defeat the Avatar on their own so she must know that, but instead she came for you.

Still, your heart ached for your friends, the only true ones you've made all your life. You yourself felt a fire deep inside you, not as fiery as Azula's, but it was ignited when you first met Aang.

"Please.. don't hurt them." was all you could manage out before you start turning purple. Azula's face turned shocked, like she couldn't believe you care more about your friends than her. She dropped her claw-like grip on your throat, you let out a gasp of air before rolling to your side and coughing.

While you were coughing, Azula let go of your arms and stood. "(Y/N), they don't truly care for you. At least not like I do, look at what I have done for you! You really think a pesky water tribe girl, a non-bender and a 12 year old Avatar really care for you? Tell me, do you really think the Avatar would save you if you weren't from the Air Nation?"

You were on your side, refusing Azula to see your face. Was she right? It's true that Aang came for me because we are both air but Aang is a good person! He would definitely rescue me even if I were someone else.. right?

You felt Azula's hand cup your cheek and turn your gaze towards her. Her eyes now are half-lidded and the fire was just warmth now.

"(Y/N), please, come home now and we can forget about this. This is silly." She tucked a piece of hair away from your face, which would have been loving but all it made you feel was owned. Like you were a pet, something to leash and expect obedience from. You wanted to show her you were nothing like her, and she did not own you.

Without even thinking you smack her hand away, a surge of strength powering you as you stand up. You moved to shove away Azula but as you did so, a gust of wind flew her back more than 8 feet away from you.

What?

You look down at your hands and back at Azula wobblily getting up, pure shock but also confusion on her face.

You turn around, hearing a familiar girls voice calling you.

"Katara!" You yell, running back to her. "Come on, we have to go! This girl somehow took away my bending." The girl Katara was saying about sounded Ty Lee but you knew you had to get out before Azula fully recovers. You finally made it back with the others and flew away safely on Appa. You look down as fly away, Azula's form getting smaller and smaller by distance. Aang speaks, finally pulling you you of your daze.

"(Y/N), are you okay? How did you manage to fight off Azula?"

"I.. I don't know." The group looks at you with confusion but you're more confused than they are.

You were safe from Azula for now but you knew she'd be back for the Avatar, especially now since he wasn't the only Airbender..

And that's a wrap! Sorry it took so long, I got really busy and I couldn't figure out an ending I liked. Comment or request whether you'd like reader to fully escape Azula or not, or something completely different!

[dawnoftime22]

make it okay.

| W.M -> N.R

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 6

Chapter Warnings: Some subjects that you can kind of count as sensitive? Not getting enough sleep, Overthinking, Mental exhaustion, cheating, sad wanda and...I think, that's it. (please tell me if I'm missing any!)

Summary: With having finished a breakup with a cheating brunette, you go to visit Kate in New York, needing a best friend to keep you company in these trying times of yours.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 5.1k

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst

A/N: I'm veeeeery tired. very. need a hug. past few days was just :( also this chapter is mostly just kate giving comfort. sorry if I wrote her in a way thats off from her? I rarely write her character, but it was definitely fun, along with lucky. enjoy :]

Series Playlist

| Started on 05/03/2024, 3:49 PM |

| Finished on 18/03/2034, 6:53 PM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 5 Chapter 7 ->

"Having a soft and kind heart is a dangerous way of staying alive, sure. But I don't understand being cold and cruel when most of the world already is."

|——————————— ➳ ———————————|

After getting off the phone with Kate, you clicked on your seatbelt and put the car on drive, off to get out the side road. Before you do, you took one last look at the café and the flower shop. All that time spent, and for what, exactly?

You sigh. The wheel turns with your hand and you continue on driving, starting your journey to the airport. It wasn't a perfect day. Well, obviously, but the weather isn't perfect either. The sun shone down on you, burning up everything in its view outside while you pulled down the sun visor and turned the ac up.

It's hard not to get lost in thought as you made your way to the airport, your mind walking back to every memory, and every question you have unanswered. Is this how you're always gonna feel? Maybe so. Maybe not. But what were you supposed to do about it?

Nearly every scenery of this town that once had your heart beating of affection now doesn't even make it pulse at all. It stings, even dead, like the flower that was around it, grew thorns. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the road.

Being in the love blackout already had you overthinking every little thing and wondering what exactly you've done wrong for Wanda to act so different, but it wasn't really you. It was her. Though, even with finding out about the new information, it didn't make things better. Of course, only worse.

Was it something you didn't do? Was it something you did? Or perhaps just a simple fall out of love. You should've known. Should've seen the signs. You didn't even want to think about it, but you can't help it. Did she leave her house in the middle of the night only for you to welcome her home? Did she gift someone else something while you got her flowers? Was she kissing another's lips while you sat there in the corner of the café, waiting for her?

You hear your phone making noise with notifications, one after another. You know it's Wanda, and your fingers twitch to reach out and grab it, but you don't pick up. Instead, you quickly put your hand out to silence your phone. If you didn't, or if you took any action that was opposite of that, you'd have turned the car around already.

You notice your vision getting blurry with tears, but you blink them away, needing to focus on the road ahead. You sigh when you stop at a red light, having time to wipe your eyes with your hands. The frustration only fueled your way forwards.

Getting drunk on New Year's Day, that was all just a ruse. Who knows if that wine was even hers that she bought. Maybe it was given by another. You would rest your head on your steering wheel by now in utter exhaustion and willingness to surrender to the unavoiding pit of pure darkness if you didn't have to keep your eyes on the road.

Another thought that distracted you from everything, was if you should call Carol. She'd probably wonder where you've gone and worry. But you decided you'll call her later.

An hour or two passes by and eventually the wheels of your car rolls up to the front entrance of the airport, the scattered crowds of people carrying luggages and trolleys making it a stark contrast from crowds outside of the airport.

Your eyes don't linger for too long, but your ears undeniably catch the PA announcer speaking, although New York was only mentioned once and it wasn't your flight. You continue on driving, getting through the many other cars sitting at the pickup site to go down to the basement, where the parking lot is.

It was packed, but not entirely. Passing by, you see shiny fresh cars, normal looking cars, and old dusty abandoned ones left by someone for some type of reason. You hoped your car doesn't end up like that, but you had no reason to let it sit in a parking lot for years. Soon, you found a small empty corner to slot your car into, easily going in.

The engine shuts down with the touch of your fingers and you get out, grabbing your bags and going over to the two-door entrance where the elevator was. Some people were there, but you try your best to simply stand and wait. Lucky you went in right as the elevator was about to arrive to the floor.

The airport lights were bright and blinding when the elevator doors open, making you squint your eyes and blink, but also remembering to step out and go over to the register section, grabbing your ticket.

Seeing as you got here early, your flight wasn't until an hour later, so you decide to roam the airport to get some breakfast first. Outside held plenty of restaurants and cafés though, so you went there.

You grabbed some breakfast from a café that caught your eyes, and sat down at the bench outside. It was pretty empty here, since most people were either at the entrance or the other side of the airport-- there, holding the more popular restaurants.

You were just about to grab your meal and take a bite after getting some liquid in your body when you feel a drop of water land on the skin of your hand.

Confused, your eyebrows furrowed as you look closer at it, the water rolling down your hand when you tilted it. You looked around to find nothing. Then the skies started to grow darker, the sun getting covered up by the clouds.

The rain came pouring down quickly after building up, making everyone else scramble to the entrance of the airport, it having a roof.

Meanwhile, a stranger somewhere at the parking lots was just stepping out their car when the rain came down. They go back in urgently, but only to grab an umbrella.

You were standing up from the bench and covering your head with your arms, about to do the same as most of the other people were doing. Running to shelter. Then, suddenly the raindrops on you stop.

Feeling the rain disappear, you slowly put down your arms and see a redhead beside you, holding an umbrella above the two of you to shield from the rain.

She didn't look at you for long, having turned her head to the airport entrance. Not wanting to get left behind, although you were sure you won't considering she had put the umbrella over you, you still quickly walk with her.

"Thank you," you say, chuckling a little as the coolness of the airport hits you combined with the rain drops on you, sending a shiver down your spine. You shove your hands in your pockets as she closes the umbrella.

"Of course." She said gently, her voice husky as she nods. Afterwards, nothing much happened. She had walked away, nearly in a hurry with her eyes focused on the big flight screen in the middle of the airport, but it wasn't entirely obvious unless you were staring closely at her. You guessed she was either late for her flight or was just trying to get to her area fast. A kind encounter with a stranger...at least there's one good thing for today.

You check the screen yourself, and your eyes searched for your own journey. When you didn't find it, you searched more panickly, until you restart from the top and it pops up. But it wasn't in its original place. Then, you go off to the side and see a bright red text gleaming with the word, 'DELAYED'.

Great. Now you have to wait longer. A bad thing right after the good thing. You sigh, but make your way to the sitting area anyway, going through security with ease.

Once you've gone to the section your plane would arrive...in a few hours. You sat down, sliding your phone out from your pocket and pulling up your direct messages with Kate, telling her you'll be late because of your flight.

After an hour passed of you being bored, scrolling on your phone and opening an app only to close it, mixed with overthinking while resting your head on your folded arms, a message finally pops up, and your fingers quickly tap on it.

Kate replied back with some film recommendations and videos of Lucky doing tricks and getting excited at the mention of your name, making you smile.

You guessed she was driving when you messaged her, but you didn't mind it, and watch the things she sent you.

It keeps you occupied for a long while, up until you forgot about time, but the sound of your plane arriving quickly reminded you.

You look up to the large windows at the side that showed the huge parking area of the airplanes. There were small cars along with someone holding red sticks to direct the plane.

Many eyes in the large room was watching everything go by, the vehicle holding all the passenger luggages, the people from that flight getting out. You guessed they were clearing it out and starting to clean up.

The other eyes in the room weren't even looking at all, focused on their phones, laptops, or simply their eyelids were closed in sleep. Most of them had probably been in an airport plenty of times to not be mesmerized by the movements and sound. Or doing work...or is simply tired.

You had enough time to finish up your movie before your plane was ready to board, making you gather your things and stand up, having finished your breakfast hours ago.

It didn't take much time to get in, easily going through the little portable hallway connected to the plane and letting the attendant check your ticket.

After finding your seat, you store your things in the compartment above, then settle down, buckling in the seatbelt. The seat beside you was empty up until a few minutes later, someone sitting in it. They did the same movements as you, but rather than watching the view out the window, they bring out a book, placing it in their lap as the plane started moving, having made sure everyone settled down and was seated.

You put on some music on your earphones and got ready for the journey ahead. It was only two hours to New York from where you were, but still you hoped it'll feel short. Maybe you'll get some sleep on the way.

|——————————— ➳ ———————————|

The plane soon landed once more, the turbulance actually smoother than most of the other ones you've gone through. The person beside you on the other hand, put the book they were reading down and grabbed onto their armchair.

You didn't pay much attention to it, more mesmerized by the tall buildings you can already see in the distance. You've been here plenty of times before to visit Kate, but the view was still stunning.

After the plane settled in its parking spot completely, you unbuckle your seatbelt and get up, just as everyone else, grabbing your bag and walking out.

A text to Kate was sent of your arrival. The walk felt longer than the flight as you made your way through security and up to the pickup site, where she was already waiting, your eyes quickly catching the familiar sight of the car and license plate.

You load the empty trunk of the car with your bags, then walk back to the front. The door opens with the pull of your hand, inside revealing the raven haired girl looking over to you with a gentle smile as you went in.

"Hey," She greeted, her voice soft and lightly pitched as she started moving the car out the side, both to get you two home and let the other cars pick someone else up.

"Hi. Sorry for being late," You say as you set your handheld bag down, buckling in your seatbelt as Kate's eyes flicker to you for a moment before focusing on the road again.

"Don't worry. It was pouring here." She goes to make a turn, getting out of the airport area and into the main road.

"I'm just glad you're safe," She says. A smile tugs up on the corners of your lips, your heart warming. Kate was always a caring, lighthearted and comforting person. No wonder you've been feeling so low...other than for obvious reasons. Calls and messages are never enough to capture the blanket feeling of being beside someone like that.

On the way, Kate asks a few questions and jokes here and there, catching up with you. There was a conversation needed to be talked about for sure, but she knows to save it for later, when you get more comfortable.

The rest of the journey to Kate's place was quiet, the silence only filled with the humming of the car and the music she put on. Your eyes watch the modern city buildings pass by. The sidewalks and roads were shining with the sheen of water, the rain having met it earlier.

It was only 4 pm, but you had a sort of sleepiness creeping up on you, perhaps from the mental, emotional and physical exhaustion mixed together. Kate notices, seeing how your eyes were too relaxed to count as just being calm. But she doesn't say anything, knowing you still wouldn't be able to fall asleep.

The car comes to a stop, making you snap out of being zoned out. Kate was gathering her things and turning off the engine of the car, moving to get out. Then you realize you had arrived at her apartment.

Your eyes go over the building as you got out the car, slamming the door closed...accidentally. Your eyes widen slightly and you grimace, looking at Kate, who had her mouth open in an O shape.

"Someone's really angry," she jokes, grabbing a plastic bag from the backseat. You gave a tight-lipped smile and went to the back of the car.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," you quickly spew out your apology. The first hour you were with your best friend again, and you slam her car door. You grabbed your bags that were safely sitting in the trunk as she made her way to you.

"It's alright," she laughs, stepping in front of you while you slung your backpack over your shoulder. She held out a pack of dog treats to you while her other hand still held the plastic bag of groceries.

"Here." She puts out her hand further when you didn't take it, thinking you hadn't noticed. Then you look down and see what it is, your eyebrows furrowing in thought within your dazed mind.

You gasp when you realize it. "I get to feed Lucky?" You ask, your face brightening as you look back up at her. She nods, a smile on her face. You quietly cheer as she made her way to her apartment, her keys rattling in her hand as you followed behind her.

The door opens with a click, and instantly, you hear the sounds of a gentle bark and running coming from Lucky, having arrived at the front door quickly to meet the two of you.

"Hey, buddy." Kate holds the door with her body, leaning down slightly to card her fingers through Lucky's fur.

"Look. Look, it's Y/N." She points to you, making the golden dog run to you, jumping as he went. You smile and kneel down, greeting him as he started licking your face. Kate watches the excitement of Lucky from the door, a fond gaze on the two of you.

"Okay, okay. I've missed you, too. Let's get inside now," you manage to say in between laughs, standing up. You went in with Lucky staring up at the pack of treats in your hand, lightly pawing at it with his tongue sticking out his mouth.

"Wait, I need to put my stuff down first." You pull back the pack of dog treats away from him while Kate closes the door. You can see the impatience he tried to cover with a look of calmness, but you know he would jump on you if he needed to get the treats.

You kick off your shoes and set down your bags in the bedroom you usually sit in whenever you visit Kate, Lucky following you around and circling playfully around you at times.

"He's really missed you," Kate says with a laugh, putting her grocery bag on the kitchen counter to unload and store the contents into her fridge and cabinets.

"I can see that," you say quietly, focused on opening the bags and putting food in his food bowl. Before setting it down on the floor though, you hand feed him a treat, patting his head with your other hand gently as he instantly ate it.

"As much as I would love to play around with him though, I should probably go change and shower." You say, having set down Lucky's food bowl, giving him one last longing pat and standing back up.

"Do you wanna watch a movie when you're done?" Kate asks, turning to look at you as she got done storing everything.

"Yeah...I probably need it anyway. You can choose." You say with a nod, and Kate watches you go to your bedroom, off to get yourself cleaned up, unpack, and unwind. She knew exactly what you were saying, and her heart ached just a little at the mere thought of your troubled mind.

You close the door behind you, taking a deep breath in once you were inside, letting it out as a heavy sigh after, walking to your bags to slide the zipper open.

Everything seemed to hit you all at once, your shoulders feeling heavy as it moves along with your hand to grab your clothes. You go to the bathroom, fatigue within your movements as you close the door, pull off your clothes, and turn on the shower.

The warm water running down your skin welcomes you, letting you relax a bit and your muscles letting go of its tensions. The steam filling up a bit of your breathing from the shower makes your body feel comforted, the barely noticeable movement of it going to everything that was glass in the bathroom, fogging it up.

A gentle yawn leaves your mouth, finally feeling the exhaustion take you over. But you still had some energy within you, so you willed yourself to clean yourself up and wash your hair, then turning off the shower once you were done.

You dry yourself off, then put on your clothes. When you were about to go walk out the bathroom though, you had a thought and turn on the sink for a quick second, splashing your face with cold water before drying your face with your towel once more. Now you were a little more awake.

You get out of the bathroom, parts of your hair dripping slightly. Since you already had your clothes on, you decide to unpack everything else, storing your shirts and pants in the closet.

Your eyes flicker to the bed, and the urge to fall into it was strong, but you hold yourself back. If you went into bed by now, you knew you probably wouldn't be able to get up anytime soon.

Once you've dealt with unpacking, you put your bags off somewhere in a corner of the room and move to the door, getting out the bedroom. Out in the living room, you see Kate, already sat down on the couch with a movie set up on the tv. She notices you and looks up.

"Hey. I made us some fries and nuggets." She gestures her hand towards the plates of fries and nuggets accompanied with sauce, making the smallest smile cross your face.

You sit down next to her, grabbing a few and taking a bite, the crunch sounding out as she looked at you eating, resisting a smile when you hummed in delight.

You shift your position on the couch, getting comfortable while Lucky jumped up, laying beside you, only to then move to lay on both of your lap and Kate's, but his head was on your side, making her shake her head at her dog's antics.

Your eyes focus on the screen when Kate hits play, one of your hands patting Lucky's head and traveling down to his body fur while the other one grabs the chicken nuggets and fries.

Kate gently pokes your shoulder multiple times, making you turn to look at her. She had fries in between her teeth and mouth, sauce sitting on the end of it for extra effect of blood, looking like a vampire's fangs. Instantly, you giggle, to which turn to laughs when one of the fries fell, leaving only one in her mouth.

She laughs herself, and quickly go to retrieve the fallen french fry. Although, right as her fingers held it, Lucky had moved and turned to her side, chomping on the fry. Kate grabs the fry in her mouth, eating that before he could try to steal it from her too.

"Hey! That's not yours." She exclaimed, but Lucky only looked at her innocently, licking her face for a moment, probably asking for more. She laughed, but gently push him away, needing to see the tv too.

"You're lucky you're cute." She shakes her head when Lucky had stopped, and settled down in your laps again.

"He's not just Pizza Dog anymore." You start, and she turns her head to look at you, the both of you having something in your heads.

"French Fry Dog," you say simultaneously, the sound of your voices mixing together along with your soft laughs afterwards. Lucky only tilts his head, confused of the sudden sounds from the two of you.

You focus back on the movie, getting invested in the story. The nuggets and fries were slowly going down to an empty plate, counted as snacks for the movie, but still filling up your stomach. The day had transitioned into nighttime now, time going by quickly.

When Lucky moved to settle beside Kate instead, probably needing a new position just as you did, you move to lay down, your head on the armrest and your arm dangling off the couch. At some times of the movie, you space out, your mind occupied with thoughts.

Kate's eyes were completely on the tv, comfortable and fully focused on the story. Your eyes flicker over to her for a split second before returning to the screen, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

"Kate?" You whisper, barely even within the sound volume of a breath. She hums and looks over to you, your body seeming weak against the couch. Lucky was now sleeping beside her.

"What if it doesn't get better?" Your eyes travel down to the floor, not meeting her eyes. Her eyebrows furrow at the suddenness of your sentence, and she sits up more properly.

Having felt the change in your demeanor, Kate quickly pauses the movie, putting all her attention on you. "Don't say that," She counters in a gentle tone.

"You'll get through it. You always have," She says, her voice a soothing sound through the night air. The crickets make noise in the background, having replaced the sounds of the movie now that it was paused.

"Do you think it was me?" You whisper, sitting up because your cheek was starting to get sore from resting against the armrest. You fiddle with your fingers and look at her as Kate quickly shakes her head.

"No. You've stayed through it with her in the worst of times and the best." She takes in how you fiddled with your fingers, a hint to your dark mind. A small gentle, although bit of a sad smile goes over her face as she thought of the softness of your heart.

"Everyone has their mistakes but after all this time I've known you, I think you have been so brave and just...such an amazing person." She says, knowing the many gestures of gifts and time and reassurances you've done before, both to strangers and people you know.

"The point is..." She takes a breath, trying to find the right words to say. She wanted to tread carefully, not wanting to accidentally say something wrong. You watch as she thinks, her words sinking into your mind.

"Don't blame yourself," She finally says, looking directly into your eyes to make sure you heard her completely and isn't lost in your head as she said it.

"The love was there, but you reached the end of it," she points out, unfaltering in her honesty, but her voice was gentle. The truth was, it was doomed from the start. You had it in the back of your head all the time. But there seemed to be such a high chance of it coming out alive from the beginning. Yet, all that was a simple trick your minds put on.

"But why did she...do that?" You ask hesitantly, your heart pained with cracks. You knew people did the things they wanted to, with a reason or not. But this was different. Kate purses her lips, a sigh leaving her mouth.

"Honestly, I'm not who you should be asking..." Kate says with a soft chuckle, a tinge of the sound having a nervous tone, but she needed to help you get out than dig yourself deeper.

"But maybe she didn't want to hurt you," She says with a gentle shrug. Her mind worried it was a bad thing to put out, but she sees your shoulders slumping in defeat.

"...But it did anyway." You sigh. It'll always hurt. Whether you'd like to admit it or not, no matter the ways its done in. She had nothing to say to that.

The two of you sit in quiet silence for a minute, needing the break to think. Lucky shifted slightly in his sleep, and Kate gently puts her fingers through his fur before looking at you once more, seeing your gaze lost in a haze of your thoughts.

"Now, come here." She lets go of Lucky and slowly pushes herself off the couch with her hands, standing up and turning to you. You raise your eyebrows at her, curious of her next moves.

"You're desperately in need of...a teddy bear hug!" She gently tugs on your arm, pulling you up to stand.

"Aw, no!" You joked with a chuckle as you get pulled into her embrace, her arms squeezing you tightly as if you were simply a plushie.

You hug her back though, relishing in the tight yet comforting embrace of her arms. Your body relaxed, feeling the weight on your shoulders slowly disappearing just slightly.

"Thank you." You say under your breath, pulling away from her. She slides her hands into her pockets, giving you a reassuring smile.

"It's what I'm here for." She said quietly with a nod, her eyes traveling over to the clock. Her mind jumps to the memory where you seemed sleepy, right in the car earlier.

"You should get some rest. Have you slept at all ever since you went to the airport?" She asks, nudging your shoulder with her knuckles. A faint thought of you in your worst times went through her mind just for a moment.

"No...but--" You look over to the tv screen, seeing you had just a quarter left to finish of the movie.

"Go," Kate says gently yet slightly sternly in a whisper, cutting you off. Lucky was already sleeping. She was still energized, but she could go to sleep at any time at the moment. Kate was just more concerned about you, hating to see you avoid taking care of yourself.

You look at her for a moment longer, your eyes flicking over to Lucky to think it over before giving in, your head moving in a gentle nod.

She gives you an encouraging smile, letting you go to your bedroom. As you did so, she started cleaning up, getting the plates from earlier and putting them in the sink. When she hears your bedroom door close, was when she could have her heart get just a tad lighter.

You make your way to your bed and turn the dim lights on, falling into bed easily. A sigh leaves your mouth, and you wanted to spill out your feelings, but all that was more on your mind was sleep.

The mattress was soft, and you wanted to sink into it, yet still, your head falls asleep after minutes of tossing and turning while the night delved deeper into a form of comfort.

|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|

Wanda, on the other hand, hasn't been sleeping at all. She kept thinking over the memories of the past few months. It was like a contest of who can act like they can care less. At first. Then, she saw your efforts and got guilty, wanting to isolate herself instead.

The day you were waiting at the café. She was going to actually have lunch with you. But the person she was with had convinced her to stay. Her heart screamed no, but her mind was far from it. She was already falling out of love with you, so what could it hurt?

It seemed like the right thing at the time for her, and it was easier for her to put the blame on herself than making you overthink about the smallest things and make yourself the villain instead. She didn't want to hurt you. Your heart was the softest she's seen. But she only ended up hurting you further. It was a situation that only had loss.

Then, the birthday was an actual mistake.

She thought it'd be nice to get a day off to herself...and with another, hoping you'll still believe that she was at work, although the both of you had doubted it by that point already. But she actually forgot.

Your past, she knows. How many people you've drifted off from and never really got one to stay or even stayed yourself. Then you met her, who was struggling to believe how anyone could love her. And you decided to stay. For once, you poured your whole heart into it because you promised yourself not to run anymore. For once, she had someone in her life that truly cared for her.

And she did that.

Her legs curl further into her body, the bed being colder than the nights before. Was this what you felt whenever you slept alone and she was off doing whatever?

Her chest caves in and her heart gives up, the walls whispering back to her of her quiet cries.

end of chapter 6. <3

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 5 Chapter 7 ->

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

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[wistfulforstars]

For What It's Worth - Part 3

Rex x Reader

Summary: Rex goes to find his brother, and Fox, you've got some 'splainin to do (just kidding, he's a good big brother who's trying his best).

Warnings: reader is afab, discussions of violence, Rex is mad and sad, mature sexual content in later chapters, minors: get out

Tag List (I am so excited to get my first tag request, thank you! <3): @bambiswriting

If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please comment below or message/ask directly.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

“I can’t believe you dragged me here! Do you really think this was the best place to talk?” Rex hissed. He was rocking back and forth on his heels, swiveling his helmet this way and that at any approaching figures. There were a lot of them, and he was not supposed to be here. Strictly speaking.

Fox, on the other hand, was completely at ease guarding one of the many entrances to the Senate chamber. He stood at perfect attention, helmet impeccably poised, still managing to look bored.

“Please,” he responded, not even looking Rex’s way. “Do you know how many clones these politicians see every day? Do you know how many of them are too worried about their own crooked dealings to even notice us?”

Fox, to his credit, had answered Rex’s furious comm on their private channel right away. Almost as if he’d been waiting for it. The conversation had been typically short, but filled with a little bit more frustration than usual:

Rex: Why the hell didn’t you contact me?!

Fox: I take it you’re back on-planet.

Rex: YES I am on-fucking-planet! Do you have any idea of what I am going through right now?! Have you SEEN her?!

Fox: Come to the Senate building in an hour. Thire will be outside. He’ll direct you to me.

Rex: The Senate building?!

Fox: I’ll see you soon. Over and out.

He’d found his brother as instructed, and as it turned out, the Senate would be debating on several issues well into the night. Aides were running around, refreshments were being brought in, and nobody seemed to give a single care about the trooper loitering around in blue armor instead of red.

There was a lull in the bustling around them, and Fox finally tilted his head slightly toward his brother, “How is she?”

Rex let out a long breath. The long hours, lack of sleep, and pure fucking adrenaline of the day were starting to fray him around the edges, “I can’t stay long, Fox. She hasn’t woken up since I got back. Her friend says it's the medication…I never thought I’d see her like that. She was so still and their fingerprints are still there, on her skin, on her neck, and I can’t…” He placed his hands on his hips, tilting his chin up and counting his breaths. 

Finally, he turned back to Fox, “Why didn’t you comm me?” Some of his previous ire began bleeding back into his voice.

Fox let out a sigh of his own, shoulders falling just the barest amount, “I tried, Rex. Multiple times. You were in hyperspace for a long while. Private comms just weren’t getting through. And I have to watch all my communications, going in or out. They screen the guard heavily for any breaches of conduct. I could only send one out about once per day, between shifts.”

Rex took one, two, three seconds and decided that he didn’t have the energy to yell at Fox for the shitty regulations they were both bound to. He crossed his arms and went to lean against the wall. It felt more like an exhausted slump instead. “Fine.”

“I got her out of there as fast as I could, I swear. Three troopers hit her location 8 minutes after she activated the distress signal.”

“I…I sure appreciate that, Fox. I do.”

“And,” Fox paused as a harried looking aide rushed by. “We’ve got those bastards booked with every charge we can stick to them. They aren’t getting out, not for a long time.”

Rex’s lip curled beneath his helmet. The last of his energy was rising up within him, fueled by worry and pure fucking anger, “I want to chat with them.”

“No.” And there was that note of finality in Fox’s voice. One Rex so often heard in his own. 

“Fox-”

“I said no, Rex. Don’t ask again. I am your brother, and I’m not letting you do something that’ll get you decommissioned.”

A low growl made its way past Rex’s clenched teeth, “And what would you do if it was your girl, brother? What if it were me letting you know that Ularen’s secretary was beaten senseless-”

“If I had a girl,” Fox turned fully towards him. “I would do anything to be there for her while she healed from something like that. I wouldn’t be running around giving the Republic an excuse to put me down.”

They stood, chest to chest, staring daggers at each other through their helmets. Finally, Fox raised his gloved hand and placed it on Rex’s shoulder, “Go. Be there when she wakes up. Take care of her while you can, and give her the guard’s best wishes. The boys who got to the scene are pretty worried about her.”

Rex hesitated, but despite his urge to put his fist through the senate’s beautiful, gilded walls, he gave a jerky nod and stepped back. But before he could turn away, Fox spoke up again.

“But…there’s something else you should know, and whatever you do, I don’t want you to blame yourself.”

Rex tilted his head, confused, “Blame myself? For what?”

Now it was Fox who was hesitating, “Judging on the crime scene and the language the creepy little fucks were spewing when we brought them in… we think the assault might have been…clone-related.”

Rex’s heart dropped into his stomach, “Clone-related.” It wasn’t a question, but he hoped desperately that this conversation wasn’t going where he thought it was. 

“She had a backpack, right? With a bunch of colorful, pro-clone messaging on it?”

Rex swallowed the lump in his throat. He would not cry. He would not scream. He would not grab his brother by the plastoid and throw him against the wall. “Spit it out, Fox.”

Fox fiddled with his utility belt, one of the only nervous tells he ever exhibited. “I took her statement at the hospital myself, once she woke up for the first time. I wanted to be there for her, for you, as much as I could. But she refused to confirm our suspicions. It was like she was trying to protect us, me and the boys, from the truth of it. So she may not admit it to you either. But Rex, that backpack, it was in shreds. They had a knife, and they slashed the hell out of it. They stomped on each button. And then they started going at her.”

Rex didn’t say anything. How could he? What response could he possibly have to, “Oh your girlfriend was targeted by bloodthirsty criminals because she dares to know you?”

“They weren’t exactly subtle in lock-up either,” Fox continued, as he fiddled more furiously with his belt. He pulled something crumpled from it and handed it over. “They were overheard by several guards talking about ‘that meat-droid whore.’”

Rex sucked in air through his teeth, eyes wide, at the awful words. Words that were spewed at you while they…

While they…

And a terrible thought he hadn’t considered before reared up in his mind. A sickening, visceral thought that had bile climbing up his throat. That meat droid whore, they’d said.

“Did they…” he swallowed, mouth dry, breath short. His knees were dangerously close to giving way. “Fox.. did they…”

But his brother grabbed both of his shoulders, practically keeping him upright on his own, “No, no they didn’t.” Fox ground out, slowly, firmly. “Rex, look at me. It was the first thing the medics checked for, the first thing I asked about for her statement. The shitcans destroyed her backpack, hurled verbal abuse, and beat her. That’s the extent of it, and it’s a bad extent, but nothing else happened beyond that.”

Rex, completely numb behind his helmet, nodded vaguely, stupidly. He flexed his dominant blaster hand, sore from clenching into a trembling fist. He was almost entirely out of strength, of will. Seeing you prone in bed had knocked most of it out of him. And now that he knew it was because of his presence in your life, because of your relationship…

He needed food other than the ration bar he inhaled that morning. He needed sleep, more than three consecutive hours of it. He needed you, pretty eyes open and soft voice drifting to his ear like a warm breeze. He felt like he might crumple into nothing inside his armor, might fall to the floor in the senate building and leave it to Fox to explain why…

“She needs you, Rex,” Fox’s voice reached him through the fog. He looked up into his brother’s helmet, so synonymous with his face by now that Rex felt he could read it like it was. He wondered if Fox could read his just the same.

He shook himself, ridding his brain of these sharp, drifting thoughts. There would be time for self hatred and despair. There always was. Right now, he owed it to you to be present. To care for you while you couldn’t care for yourself. 

The nature of your relationship, of its effect on your health, of its longevity, could all wait until later.

He straightened to attention, and Fox seemed to relax, “Thank you, brother. Thank you for getting her out of there.”

Fox nodded, “Of course. Anything you need, you just let me know.”

Rex turned to go, but threw back over his shoulder, “Oh, and Miss Secretary is doing well.”

A beat, a stiffening of shoulders, “I didn’t ask.”

Rex shook his head and started walking. That was one conundrum he didn’t have the energy for today.

He was halfway down the stairs to the senate building when he remembered the crumpled item in his hand. He glanced down, opening his palm, and nearly lost whatever control he had just regained. Stinging tears sprung up in the corner of his eyes.

Glaring up at him, cracked and damaged beyond repair, was the image of a helmet and a bright, cheeky slogan. 

Clones Do It Better.

[theunsinkableship1]

LOVE SEASON IS "FINNALY" HERE!

DISCLAIMER: This is LUKOLALAND only. Do not read if you're not a shipper. This is PURELY FICTIONAL. No harm intended.

It was a quiet Friday evening, and Nicola was packing up her things in her trailer after another long day on set, lost in thoughts of how much things had changed. She missed the parties she used to host during their season, Fridays used to mean champagne and enjoyment with the cast and crew, but now, all she wanted was to get home, and above all she missed Luke, she missed sharing the make-up trailer with him, those were times filled with laughter and fun. Now, every moment around Luke felt heavy, tinged with a mix of nostalgia and heartbreak. The past weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions, and she had managed to maintain her composure only by keeping her interactions with Luke mostly professional rekindling their friendship little by little. It had been incredibly difficult; they had just filmed their first intimate scenes as a couple for the new season, and although the professional side of their job was completed, the emotional undercurrent between them lingered like a charged atmosphere. Nicola had to keep her emotions in check every time their eyes met; the unspoken history between them was palpable. The way Luke’s touch felt against her skin, the warmth of his breath on her face, and the closeness that once felt so natural now sent her heart racing. Each kiss, though scripted, felt like a battle against her own desires; she had to catch herself from slipping into old feelings, holding back the urge to fully immerse herself in the familiar comfort of his embrace.Nicola often felt sad and uneasy in Luke's absence, like a piece of her life was missing. Without him, there was a constant sense of imbalance, as if something crucial was out of place. Luke had always made her feel secure, confident, and grounded. His presence boosted her energy, allowing her to live more fully and embrace happiness. With him, everything seemed lighter; he brought strength into her life that she couldn’t find on her own. His support made her feel unstoppable, and being with him just made everything better. She fought hard to maintain her composure, to remind herself that this was just a role, but every scene brought them closer, blurring the lines between performance and the raw emotions that still simmered beneath the surface. She had gathered all strength she had left to endure these first weeks. She had been friendly, and everything went well but that was it for today, she needed to recharge, she was exhausted

For Luke, watching Nicola from a distance had been a daily torment. He had seen her light up screens and stages, but now she was different with him, he could feel the space that was created between them, she was even more guarded than before. Even when she smiled or looked and him, he knew that she was reserved, it wasn’t the same He missed the carefree way they used to be around each other, the late-night laughs, and the unspoken bond they once shared. But his summer had been full of mistakes, missed opportunities, and an overwhelming realization that Nicola was the one person he couldn’t let go of. Luke also had remained professional, friendly but he was also acting as if nothing had changed, slowly approaching her more and more every day.

Before the filming days, Luke’s state of mind was a tangled mix of longing, regret, and jealousy, fueled by the glimpses he got of her summer through social media posts. Each update photos with friends and fans, scenic shots from events, and the occasional candid moment, although it filled him with joy was also like a punch to his gut, reminding him of what he had lost. Seeing her seemingly happy, surrounded by people, made his insecurities flare up. He couldn’t help but obsess over every detail: her smiles, the new faces beside her, the places she went. It all felt like a reminder that she was moving on, finding joy and connections without him. Luke’s imagination ran wild, envisioning her with someone else, and it drove him to the brink of desperation. His jealousy wasn’t just about who she was with but about the life she seemed to be building without him, a life that, not long ago, he had been a part of. He had called her in the summer, and though their conversations were warm, Nicola kept a noticeable distance. Luke had seen the songs she chose to share online, each lyric and melody feeling like they were meant for him. Her subtle support, the quiet ways she showed she still cared, made him fall for her even more deeply. But doubt gnawed at him; he couldn’t be sure if the messages were really about him or just wishful thinking. He clung to the hope that there was still a chance for them, but uncertainty loomed large, he didn’t know if he still had a place in her heart.

Seeing Nicola again during rehearsals and filming hit Luke harder than he expected. She tried to avoid him whenever possible, only spending the bare minimum amount of time required for their scenes or work-related tasks. It felt like a game of cat and mouse, Luke was constantly seeking opportunities to get closer, to reconnect, but Nicola kept slipping away, maintaining her distance and making herself elusive. Each time he thought he had a chance to bridge the gap, she would subtly evade him, retreating before he could truly reach her. He could feel her slipping through his fingers, running away just as he tried to draw near, leaving him frustrated yet more determined to break through her defenses. Her presence stirred a mix of longing and regret inside him; she looked so beautiful, radiant, focused, and guarded, maintaining a polite "pal" distance that reminded him just how far apart they’d drifted. Every stolen glance, every soft smile she gave to others, reminded him of how he loved to hear her speak, how much he had missed her scent, the closeness they once shared and now seemed lost. Without her, life was so draining, he felt at ease in her presence, it reminded him how little he had laughed without her.

During rehearsals and on set, Luke tried to bridge the emotional gap, using every moment of their scripted closeness as an opportunity to reconnect. He leaned into their scenes, savoring the way her laughter sounded, the familiar touch of her hand in his, and the subtle electric charge that still sparked between them. In unguarded moments, he would linger near her, trying to reignite the warmth and ease they once had, hoping she could feel the sincerity in every look and gesture. He missed her terribly, and being this close again, hearing her voice, feeling her body, only fueled his determination to find his way back into her heart, though he knew it would take time and patience to break through the walls she had put up.

Nicola and Luke were cautiously trying to rebuild their friendship, navigating the fragile ground between what they once had and what they now were. Nicola was always supportive of Luke, never letting past wounds interfere with her genuine concern for his well-being. Luke appreciated her maturity, recognizing how she never acted petty or held grudges, but instead, offered kindness that reassured him during his moments of self-doubt. He found solace in her presence, feeling a comfort that he had missed deeply, but he could also feel the lingering distance between them. While he cherished their time together, jealousy gnawed at him, especially when he thought about Nicola’s close friend, the one she often spent time with, the one he’d seen in social media posts. He wanted to be the one she turned to, her first call, her safe space. The thought of her sharing those moments with someone else stung. Luke realizing with each passing day that he wanted to be more than just a friend to her; he wanted to be her priority, just as he had discovered she was his. The ache in his chest reminded him that, despite all the progress they had made, his feelings for her were far from platonic.

Torn between the fear of rejection and the burning need to reconnect, Luke realized he couldn’t stand on the sidelines any longer. He had to take the risk, reach out, and try to reclaim what they once had, even if it meant facing the painful truth of her moving on.

A sudden knock interrupted Nicola’s thought, startling her. Without thinking, she opened the door, expecting a crew member. Instead, there he was, Luke dressed casually with a white t-shirt and black jeans, but the tension in his posture was evident, looking up to her with an expression that she couldn't quite place. His brows were knitted together, jaw tight, and his attempt at a smile seemed strained. She thought to herself what now? But she was an actress, and she had to be a great one now. Nicola, confident and in good spirits, tilted her head with curiosity.

"Luke, what’s up?" she asked with a light-hearted chuckle, trying to ease the tension she felt radiating from her insides.

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice tinged with a frustration she hadn’t heard from him before.

Nicola hesitated but she said «Sure, come in,", stepping aside., gesturing for him to enter. Luke walked in, looking around her trailer as if searching for the right words. He finally turned to her, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

"How was the rest of your summer?" he asked abruptly. It was the first personal question he’d asked this week. Nicola raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his sudden interest.

"It was… great," she said cautiously, trying to read his mood. "I worked, met some great people, and had a lot of fun. You?"

Luke shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "Alright. You’ve seen most of it… I’ve seen some of yours too," he added, his tone edged with something she couldn’t quite place.

Luke hesitated before blurting out, "I saw that you were in Malta… "

Nicola’s heart skipped a beat at his words, her defenses rising. "Yeah, well, I’ve been busy," she started to say, but Luke cut her off, his voice softer now.

"Nic…" he said gently, and the sound of her name from his lips made her heart lurch.

She looked up, meeting his eyes, feeling the familiar pull between them. But she held her ground, not willing to be swayed by his vulnerability.

"Are you happy?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Nicola blinked, taken aback by the question. "Seriously, did he really ask that? Knowing what he did? she was getting angry. Why was he bringing this up now? Luke had already apologized and that was it. She had thought they had moved past this.

Nicola’s patience was wearing thin. Anger simmered beneath her calm exterior. How could he ask that now, after everything? She straightened her posture, refusing to let him see how deeply his question rattled her.

"Luke, you don’t get to ask me that," she said firmly. "Not after everything."

Luke’s mind raced. He knew he had messed up, that he had let his fears and doubts drive a wedge between them. But seeing her with someone else, knowing that she could move on without him, was unbearable.

“Answer me please “He insisted.

"I am happy," she answered firmly. "And I’m also exhausted. So, if there’s nothing else …"

Luke moved closer; his expression pained. "I need to know... are you dating him?" He took a deep breath, his frustration spilling over. "Nic, I can’t keep pretending. I’ve made mistakes but seeing you with him… it’s driving me crazy. "I need to know... are you dating him?"

Nicola’s eyes widened in disbelief. She couldn’t believe her ears. He was mad surely. How did he found the courage to ask that? He may have lost his mind during his summertime; those Italians and Spanish sunrays are fierce.

She pulled back, shaking her head as if trying to wake up from a bad dream. "Luke, this is none of your business."

"Please, just answer me," he begged, his voice laced with worry.

“Do you love him? He dared to ask with jealousy in his voice.”

Nicola’s calm facade cracked. "Luke, we work together. I need you to respect my boundaries. You made your choices, and I’ve made mine. Let’s keep it professional".

“I can’t!” he almost screamed.

What? She replied dumbfounded.

“I must know if you’re with him. I can’t take this anymore.”

She was incredulous. She decided to go for the door.

He stopped her by kneeling in front of her.

His frustration bubbled over. "I can’t keep this professional anymore!" he almost shouted, his voice breaking.

Nicola was stunned. In all those years they’ve worked together, she had never seen him this troubled before. She stared at him, unable to process his words. "What do you mean?"

“"Nic, I'm really sorry. I should have been honest with her from the start, and I regret how things turned out after the premiere. That day was meant to be about us, and I ruined it. I was afraid to end things with her because everything was happening so fast, and I had already made a commitment, thinking we wouldn’t get there. I couldn’t handle the situation, and I’m truly sorry. I know it’s late, but I wanted to apologize again, deeply and sincerely."

Nicola was totally at a loss for words, moved by the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you for saying that. It’s very nice of you... “

Are you dating him? He asked again cutting her speech.

“Why would you need that information?”

"I miss you," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I messed up, Nic. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t. I ended things because I realized you’re the one. I’ve missed you every single day, and I can’t stand the idea of you with someone else. Nic., I thought I could, but I can’t pretend anymore. I want you."

Nicola’s heart pounded in her chest. She’d dreamed of hearing those words, but now they felt like too little, too late. "Luke, you can’t just show up and…"

Luke stood up, towering her totally as she wasn’t wearing heels.

“I want to know if you’re single because… I want to date you. I ended things with her. I’m tired of this Ross and Rachel bullshit.” I was miserable, I missed you so much all summer, I thought that I was going crazy, my world was upside-down, it turned darker every day, everything seemed boring and irrelevant when I was not with you, everything was tasteless and useless, you make my life so much better.

Nicola was stunned. Speechless. She was staring at him disarmed by his words. Her eyes softened as she saw the genuine pain in his. But she couldn’t let go of her own hurt.

“No” she simply said.

“I was scared, and I pushed you away when I should have pulled you closer. But I’ve realized… you’re the one. You’ve always been the one” he said moving closer to her.

"Nicola, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I want to be better for you. I want to be the person who makes you happy, who supports your dreams and never holds you back. You deserve someone who lifts you up, and I’m ready to do that. I’m committed to growing, to being the kind of partner who enriches your life, not complicates it. Let me prove that I can be the person who stands by your side through everything, who helps you find peace and joy. I want us to be something real, something strong."

Nicola felt her defenses crumbling, but she held her ground. " "Luke, you can’t just show up and expect everything to go back to how it was. You broke my heart, and I’ve worked hard to put the pieces back together. I think it’s best if we just stay friends." "

"I know," Luke said, his eyes filled with regret. "But I want to fix it. I want to be more than a friend, I want us."

She turned away, trying to collect her thoughts. The weight of his words was heavy, pulling at her resolve. "You hurt me," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know if I can trust you with my heart again."

Luke’s heart sank. He wanted to take back every missed opportunity, but he couldn’t change the past. All he could do was prove himself now. "I’m willing to do whatever it takes," he said earnestly. "I want you, Nicola.”

“Only you” he said moving closer to her.

Nicola looked at him, her expression torn between hope and caution. Her eyes filled with tears, torn between her love for him and the pain he’d caused. She had missed him too, more than she cared to admit. But she wasn’t going to make it easy for him, she wasn't ready to give up on them either."We’ll see," she said finally, her voice a mix of guarded optimism and lingering doubt. "But you’ll have to prove it."

Luke nodded, knowing he had a long road ahead.

“Don’t date another man. I’m yours".

"The only one “. He added with conviction.

His expression changed, his eyes darkened, a mixture of determination and desperation. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers. She backed against the wall, expecting his advance. The air between them crackled with unresolved tension. He gently lifted her chin, forcing her to fixate on his gaze. She saw the depth of his feelings, the intensity that had been missing.

“Don’t speak,” he whispered, his voice low and commanding. “I’m done going back and forth. I’m done waiting for the right time. I need you now.” He pressed his body against hers, his hands pinning her wrists against the wall. She let out a small sound, a mix of surprise and longing. His touch was electrifying, sending shivers down her spine.

He leaned in and kissed her left cheek his hand caressing her other cheek. " I want to be yours, he said gruffly “and I want you to be mine “he murmured in her ear, he moved a little to see her face, his eyes searching hers for any sign of resistance.

She could feel her resolve melting, her body responding to his nearness. "Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible, filled with need.

He leaned even more wanting to capture her lips with his, she parted hers delicately "The kiss started soft and slow, but it quickly turned voracious." She responded eagerly, deepening the kiss, her hand roaming through his curly hair. His moan vibrated against her lips, and he pulled her closer, his hands wandering about freely on her body, his hand grabbing her breasts, his lips kissing her everywhere with voraciousness, he was hungry of her.

They moved to the sofa, still lost in each other, Nicola put her hands on his bum, he growled with pleasure, she straddled him, their connection electric, both smiling and chuckling despite the intensity. For a moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of them, rewriting the stars one kiss at a time.

[witchymadness]

How They Get Jealous

(w/ Gwendoline Christie's Characters)

[A/N]: hello people, I have returned. Again, really just wrote this on a caffeine-fueled whim, but please enjoy.

Brienne of Tarth

-This kinda went a little too serious but I'll make it up with some fluff at the end.

-Brienne doesn't really get jealous.

-Well-- sort of.

-Brienne gets insecure.

-Whenever she sees you getting too close to someone, the thoughts of dejection claws it's way into her brain.

-She trusted you, more than anything. But she never confronts you about it, because what if you found her being insecure annoying?

-That and she was afraid that whatever she may accuse you of is true.

-My baby just needs a hug.

-Though sometimes, she would not be able to help it. Especially, if it was someone under her that flirted with you.

-Even if it went against her beliefs, she made them run a few extra laps, going a little overboard for their practice duels and having her sword at her opponent's neck, sometimes even drawing blood.

-The small corruptions makes Brienne even more frustrated, having her morals tarnished by her stupid feelings.

-One day, the three of you, Pod included, went out hunting.

-Pod was an exceptional young man, and was almost like a son to Brienne and a brother to you.

-She never really saw Pod as a threat, but sometimes, she would hear whispers of how you and Pod were getting closer together.

-Rumours started to appear that you two were dating.

-You and Brienne never went public with your relationship, her fearing that you might be kidnapped or hurt because of her.

-She's kinda regretting that decision as she can't exactly fend off the nasty men that tries to get a little too close to you.

-You and Pod were gathering some firewood, as the cold and dark night enveloped the mountains.

-Brienne stayed behind to guard the camp, sitting inside her tent. You insisted since she was already pretty tired, carrying the various animals you (it was just Brienne tbh, you caught a bunny and that's it) had caught.

-You guys took a little too long.

-Brienne's mind, already exhausted, was thinking about the rumours. It was filling her mind with things she didn't even want to see.

-When you came back, Brienne's eyes was already welling with tears that she didn't even realize were there.

-She didn't even hear your footsteps as the two of you approached the camp.

-You gleefully called out her name, but no response.

-It had you worried, a little.

-JUST A LITTLE.

-*insert to you almost flipping the tents upside down*

-You did realize that Brienne was inside soon enough and your panic subsided. But still, you were wondering why Brienne was silent.

-Seeing her staring at nothing, her eyes red and tearing up, it broke your heart into a million pieces.

-"Darling..." you called out softly, afraid that speaking any louder would shatter her.

-She didn't respond, only turning her head to look at you.

-Tears streamed down her eyes, an expression that you couldn't  even fathom appearing on her face.

-Apologetic? Hurt? A need for something? It was none of them and all of them at once.

-Whatever it was, you didn't want to see it on her face again.

-You ran to her, embracing her so tightly, hoping that it would evaporate the tears that stained her beautiful face.

-"Brienne... What happened, darling? Talk to me, please. What happened?"

-You were frantic, fumbling over your own words, looking for an answer as you held her face in your hands, desperately trying to wipe the tears from her eyes.

-You didn't even notice that you were crying yourself.

-Loud sobs wracked her body as you looked at her. She couldn't deny that that was the look of pure love. Whatever fear she had inside of her, whatever poison that was implanted there vanished.

-"Brienne?" you whispered again.

-"I'm sorry."

-"N-no! You don't have to be sorry. You did nothing wrong."

-"All this time, I was so afraid of losing you. I was afraid, when you were here by my side all that time."

-"Is that why? Oh, Brienne. I would never leave you, alright?"

-"I know. I'm sorry."

-"Don't be. It's okay." You let out a watery laugh. "Gods, I get jealous all the time. Who wouldn't be if they had a woman like you?"

-"(Y/N), darling, save the flattery."

-"It's true. That's why I punched that asshole last week."

-"Is that so?"  

-Before she could make the realization of why you seemed to be a tad bit more violent towards a few men of hers, always wanting to beat them at every duel, you sat yourself on her lap, peppering her face with kisses.

-After that, she did talk to Pod over the small dinner you had.

-And slowly, her confidence had started to rise.

-She glares at the men while standing behind you.

-And when you did notice how the men's faces seemed to look paler and looked like hell currently eating them from the inside out, she just pretends like she didn't even notice or smiles at you.

Lucifer Morningstar

-Lucifer Morningstar doesn't get jealous.

-Course not.

- :)

-SO THEN OUT OF NOWHERE THIS MASSIVE FIREBALL JUST ACCIDENTALLY STUMBLES INTO YOUR OFFICE PARTY AND DIRECTLY AT THIS GUY WHO WAS TRYING TO HIT ON Y--

-"Lucifer."

-"Why are you calling me that?"

-"LUCIFER!"

-"Yes, angel?"

-(A/N: This is possibly the best trait that I've given Lucifer. It's so hot. I swear. Look at me with those faux-ass puppy eyes while plotting murder, please.)

-They had to admit that it was both hot and scary seeing you like this.

-"You cannot just smite my co-worker."

-"I can, angel. That's literally the whole point of being the Devil."

-"LUCE!"

-"Okay, I know. But that guy was literally all over you, what did you expect me to do?"

-"Well, this would all have been avoided if you actually came."

-*fast forward to your office Christmas Party*

-Lucifer came dressed in black and red, their signature color.

-You were absolutely speechless.

-"Great, a party about my father."

-"Don't worry, I'll make it fun, angel." You winked at her.

-At that moment, Lucifer thought that the night was going to go smoothly.

-Meeting your co-workers was a bore.

-And the absolute nightmare was meeting your boss. While they were bored, they went through his mind and found all the nasty shit he was thinking about while talking to you.

-To them, this was an absolutely smotable reason.

-Now fuming, they forcefully snatched your arm and muttered something about going to the bathroom.

-They blasted through a stall and slammed you against the wall.

-Without saying anything, Lucifer smashed their lips to yours.

-Any annoyance you had was melted away. Plus, the alcohol was really getting to your head and Lucifer's tight cocktail dress just so happens to ride up a little too high.

-"Give me 15 minutes. Don't leave the bathroom."

-"But--"

-"Be a good girl for mommy, won't you?"

-Lucifer had a 'talk' with that creep.

-And you had a little treat when they returned. And that sort of made up for smiting your boss.

-Safe to say it took a couple more tries to get the smiting down to a reasonable curse for all their eternity.

-Still, Lucifer was as protective of you as ever.

-You wouldn't have it any other way.

Larissa Weems

-Out of the three, Larissa was probably the least frequent person to get jealous.

-But she was also the fieriest one.

-Jesus, this woman would literally stare daggers at the person. She would, without a word, snatch you away mid-conversation. And when drunk, she would make out with you right on the spot.

-Okay, but Marilyn Thornhill had taken a liking to you.

-You were just happy that you had someone to nerd out with.

-And you spent more time hanging out in the greenhouse.

-You started helping around her more, almost forgetting that you were Larissa's intern.

-The faculty members had a party just before the Rave'n. For the teachers to have a little time off for themselves too, you supposed.

-You were having a blast, as you finally got time with your girlfriend, although you had to keep it lowkey. It was also your first time hanging out with Marilyn outside of school, so safe to say, it was a fun night.

-But for Larissa, it was hell. (Say hi to Luce.)

-She was basically glaring daggers at the redhead.

-Her poor wine glass suffered through it all, as she imagined that it was Marilyn's neck instead.

- :)

-Larissa's MAD mad.

-Just as the night was about to end, most were pretty tipsy. But BOY, Larissa was DRUNK.

-Marilyn pulled you aside, taking your hand in hers.

-She was asking you out to the Rave'n.

-"(Y/N), these past few weeks, I know that we've grown--"

-But before your mind could process what was happening, you just saw red.

-Literally. Larissa had spilled red wine all over the two of you mid-conversation.

-"Oh, I'm terribly sorry Ms. Thornhill, Ms. (L/N). Whoops!"

-A laugh escaped from her lips, one so clearly uncoordinated. Her head tilted sideways, resting on your shoulder though she was a little too tall for it to even look anywhere natural.

-

'This fucking giraffe is going to be the death of me.'

-You knew that Larissa would not want this on her record, right now she was babbling on about... Types of wines. And you also knew that she was doing it because she was jealous. If you didn't take her home now, chances are she'll probably commit a crime and you just didn't want that on your conscience.

-"Marilyn, I'm sorry. I need to go back to the academy."

-"But, (Y/N)--"

-"H-UEY! THE LAYD'R SED T'H BACKOUFFF!"

-(Hey! The lady said to back off!)

-My sweet, babbling angel.

-"Larissa, I don't really think you are a part of this conversation so would you please let me talk to (Y/N)?"

-NONONONOFUCK--

-Marilyn herself was a little tipsy.

-And now, you felt stone cold sober as you watched the goofy smile completely leave Larissa's face.

-Although wobbly, she stood in front of Marilyn and grabbed her by the coat, bending down to her height.

-She growled, "If you ever wish to speak to my girlfriend again, or even speak at all. Do not ever speak to me in such a manner."

-You pulled Larissa away and took her home. She sort of cried, but the two of you sorted things out.

-In general, Larissa will act tough with the person she's jealous of. But when she finally gets to talk it out with you, all of the trauma she had in her time with Gomez and Morticia.

-You always reassure her that you'll never leave her though.

-She's also a  really messy drunk, so never leave her alone in a bar, please.

-

And don't forget to lock the door if she's drinking inside.

[azsluttyslut]

Born to die

Azriel x f!reader

TW: blood, violence, angst, fluff, near death experience.

Word count: 3883

Azriel POV

-Flashback-

Feet don't fail me now

Take me to the finish line

Oh, my heart it breaks every step that I take

But I'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine

He was corner there was no fucking scape, but all he could think about was that least his mate was safe, his only comfort at the moment, lovely (Y/N), always so sweet and caring. “It had my absolute honor to had been with her for the last 60 years” he thought to himself still fighting for his life.

The tried to fight as best as he could, the trained for situations like this his whole life, so he pushed himself harder, Azriel's only goal to see his mate at leat one more time, she deserves to know how much he love, his absolute everything. So that’s what he did, and killed soldiers under Koschie command left and right, but there was no point, they were everywhere and he was losing power, strength and he was so fucking exhausted, this was a losing game. That was until he felt a surge of power, he have never experienced that much power, not even from his brother and High Lord.

It was astonishing how can that blast killed every soldier around him, he himself wasn’t sure how he survived, it was like they melted, all the gore of the soldiers that were surrounding him was everywhere it was a a goo of blood, skin and bones. When Azriel turn around to see who was the person that save him, he couldn’t believe his eyes, his beautiful mate was there, she has never told Azriel about her powers, he never pushed her too afraid to say the wrong thing, she just told him that it brought bad memories and it was her trauma to bear. But watching her use her powers just so she can save Azriel it made him love her even more and for a moment it brought him this sense of peace, it was as if the Mother told him that everything was going to be okay, that this moment even as short as it was, was just one of many to come.

But that sense of peace went as quickly as it came. Because the moment he took a step forward to reach her, in a blink of an eye there was a one of the enchanted soldiers behind here, and before he can voice that, a fucking sword with faesbane was passing through her stomach and the feeling of pain he feel through the bond brought him to his knees and he scream, and scream, and in pure act of willingness only fuel by his anger he killed all around his path until he got to her, screaming and cursing the Mother for being so cruel moments. And then everything went black.

It could be days, or months he didn’t care how much time it passed since he last was conscious, not after the moment he woke up and everything came crashing down. He tried to reach for the bond but the was nothing. Not even his shadows were with him. He didn’t know to much time passed until Rhys came to the healing chambers to check on Azriel.

“Hello Brother, I'm happy to see you finally awake” he just stared at him blankly,the numbness consumed every finer of his body, he knows Rhysand went through the same but at least Feyre came back, instead he watch his mate died, he felt the pain and sure as hell he still feels the void in his chest, his very soul were once was a gold thread, full of love, joy and fulfilment. And as if reading his mind that Azriel is almost sure he did, he says “ she’s not dead, brother”.

-End of the flashback-

Walking through the city streets

Is it by mistake or design?

I feel so alone on the Friday nights

Can you make it feel like home if I tell you you're mine?

It's like I told you, honey (louder)

It’s been a month since the day Azriel woke up, and you are still unconscious, Rhys told him his shadows haven’t left you sight, that brought him a bit of confort. The loneliness consumed his already tormented soul, he never felt this alone in his life, not even when he was a child in the care of those bastards.

Madja doesn’t know when you are going to wake up, but they are sure you will, maybe they are saying that just to make him feel better, he doesn’t know at this point, the void that is the bond wights on him everyday, they won the war but he just feels lost.

Rhys encourage him to seek help with one of Madja's mental health healers, they told him that maybe if he does things that you both used to do together would make him feel better, but walking around Velaris without you it makes him feel empty. Not even your house in the suburbs feels like home, that’s where he made you his, when he devoted himself to you, and the memories are too much, too unbearable without you.

•1 week later•

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

The memories haunt Azriel like a plague everyday, all the laughs you share, the kisses, the all nighters, both of you getting drunk and high because you were bored. The memories playing in his head stopped the moment he felt the golden thread, all this time it’s has been a dim almost white, a white that made him feel hopeless, but right now it’s recovering color as if you were healing and recovering consciousness.

The tears blinded his eyes and the sob of relief that leaves his mouth, his entire body shook with the force of the sobs. He couldn’t stop the only thoughts running through his mind was “Y/N is waking up”, but even if that was true he could bring himself to go to see you. He couldn’t make himself be hopeful, and knew the only people that could help were his brothers.

Rhys! Rhys! RHYS!! BRING CASSIAN!

Rhysand appeared within seconds with Cassian in tow ready to attack, nothing would prepared them for the sight that greeted them. Azriel looked like a fallen angel, with tears streaming down his cheeks, face blotchy, red eyes, trembling body and slumped wings.

“Are you okay?” Cassian ask his voice frantic, searching for anything, they have never seen ghe shadowsinger like this, in all the years of friendship, he has never been the emotional friend, the only time Azriel cried beside when he was a kid was when Rhys came home form under the Mountain. He still remembers the grief of losing his brother and not been able to do anything to help. But that pain was minuscule compared to the thought and feeling of losing you.

“Az what’s happening? You are scaring us” Cassian voice make Azriel snaps out of his grieving thoughts, the tears and sobs don’t stop, he can bring himself to stop feeling.

“T-the bond” the sobs that leaves his mouth shooks his whole body, not even been able to form coherent sentence, the warlord and the high lord look at each other without knowing what to say, not knowing how to approach this topic.

“What about the bond” Rhys ask carefully, too carefully to the spymaster liking, but he doesn’t care, he feels the bond recovering it’s power, it makes his soul mend just a fraction.

“It- it’s not dim anymore” Both males sigh in relief “Rhys, I need you to check her, I-I can’t, I can’t get my hopes up, please” Rhysand gives Azriel a court nod and his gaze become distant, meaning that he’s asking Feyre. After about 10 minutes that felt like an eternity, Rhys has a small smile while looking at his broken brother. Stepping closer so he can comfort him while explaining what Feyre told him.

“She’s regaining consciousness, Madja said any of this days she would be awake again” After that the shadowsinger didn’t stopped crying of relief until he feel asleep. Cass and Rhys stayed the night, making sure that Adriel was okay.

-Flashback-

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane, so (louder)

Choose your last words, this is the last time

'Cause you and I, we were born to die

The night before the last battle it was raining, while you and your mate were at your tent, cuddle up.

“Let’s take a walk” Y/N said with those (e/c) eyes that the spymaster love to get lost in. And he knew he could never say no to those eyes while they look at him as if he’s the only person on earth, Azriel always tends to agree to whatever you wants, this time it wasn’t any different. He loves the spontaneous things you do, sometimes some of the things you wants to do border insanity, but he loves every aspect of his mate. So without a thought he took your hand while leading you outside.

“Angel be careful it’s raining, I don’t want you to get sick” the shadowsinger said, he knows fae don’t get sick easily but he always worry about you. Your only response was only a snort of laughter, and oh boy! how he love that sound.

“Az, you know as well as I do, fae don’t get sick easily, why don’t we dance in the rain, and just listen to the pattern of the rain” Your eyes glowed with joy as you looked at him expectantly, he didn’t hesitate in taking your hand and dragging you until we are chest to stomach, while you start to sway with his hands on your hips and yours around his neck, with your head laid on Azriel chest.

The shadowsinger couldn’t stop watching you, admiring more likely, he didn’t take his eyes away even while they were swaying to the sound of the rain and the latter soaking your clothes, but after some time he couldn’t contain himself and kissed you as hard as he could pouring all his love and devotion he feel for you, sending it through the bond and through the kiss. After that you two went back to the tent, drop the wet clothes and he showed you how much he loves you throughout the night.

But in the morning the bubble you’d encompass yourselves in exploded, because of how Rhys made the strategy for the last battle.

“Azriel I don’t care if Rhysand gave you the order or not, you will not be standing in the fucking front lines, I swear to the mother you cross that tent and…” Yelling got you nowhere with Adriel Y/N knew that as much, but even then he could still see the fear you held of the idea of him on the front. But his anger overpowered his common sense.

“Or what? Are you going to do what? (Y/N) this is for the best, I know how to protect myself, I know my limit. This is for our future, so yes I’m going to cross that tent because this is who I am, this is who was raised to be, born to be, if I have to die there knowing that you are safe, then my mission is done” and without another word he left the tent, your tent were his mate was left crying.

But to Azriel's saddened heart in middle of the battle he realized you never gave each other the kiss before battle, it was a non spoken deal between the two, it was their “I’ll be waiting for you to come back, please come back”. But it was too late, and the words exchange between the two in those last moments left a bitter taste on Azriel's tongue.

-End of the flashback-

Y/N POV

•1 week later•

Lost but now I am found

I can see that once I was blind

I was so confused as a little child

Tryna take what I could get

Scared that I couldn't find

All the answers, honey (louder)

My body feels like it’s on fire, I can’t even open my eyes, every nerve, every muscle in my body hurts, is this the after life? I thought that when you died you don’t feel any pain. But oh gods! I feel like I was crushed under a fucking mountain. Cauldron fucking boil me alive! The only thing that I feel apart from the agonizing pain in my body are the scattering caresses of what I think are Az's shadows.

A groan leaves my lips, as I tried my hardest to open my eyes to the blinding light that comes from the window, as if sensing my discomfort almost all of the shadows surround the room in darkness, while the others hurried vanished out of the room to probably alert Azriel and the inner circle. I don’t remember what happened, my last memory was the night before battle that me and mate dance in the rain, followed up to have the most tender and loving sex with Az. I feel so lost, with so many questions.

The sound of hurried footsteps getting closer bring me back from my scattering thoughts, a second later my beautiful mate appears in all his glory, but he looks terrible, not in a bad way, Azriel is the most gorgeous male I’ve ever seen, he couldn’t be ugly even if he tried. But there are circles under his eyes as if he hasn’t sleep in forever, his cheekbones are more prominent and he looks like he lost some pound and muscle. What the hel happened?

He looks frantic throughout the room as if some broke in, but that is until his gaze land on me. He lunges himself at me while breaking down with sobs. I tried to move to comfort him but my body is not cooperating. Not even my voice is functioning. Azriel's sobs break my heart and I think he feels it because he looks and me with tears in his eyes.

“You are alive” he looks at me as if he hasn’t seen me in years “you are okay” he repeats the same thing as mantra, as if trying to convince himself this is real. I tried to speak but no words come out. He sense this and rushes to bring you a glass of water, you gulp it down and the refills it again and again until your throat doesn’t feel like sand anymore.

“Hello my love” my voice comes out scratchy like I haven’t used it in a long time, at the pet name my mate's eyes fill with tears again. “what happened?”

“I promise, I’m going to tell you anything you want to know, baby, but I need to alert Madja you are awake, okay?” He caress my hair, my face touching everything part of me that he can, I’m able to give him a small nod, while his eyes become distant probably telling Rhys to call Madja.

Madja came ask questions while checking my body, always questioning where it hurts, what’s the last I remember, and told me not ask what happened, that my memories will be back in time, and asking would affect the currency of them, after a while she gave strict orders to all my family that I’m to stay in bed for at least a week more, that I need to regain my energy and my weight, and not to exhaust myself, while also giving Azriel some viles that help with the pain.

The week I was in bed all my family make sure I was taken care of, even Amren took care of me, that was weird, I’ve never seen her be so soft with someone, and that includes Varian, Mor and Feyre were as usual always fussing about anything I needed, Cassian and Rhys always made sure I was comfy enough and bringing me gifts and food, Cassian brought me a lot of books, courtesy of Ness, and sometimes Nests came to check up on me. And Azriel well he never left my side and when he did he made sure to leave his shadows with me even if he was to leave one minute.

Elain is another story altogether, since she was made, she took a liking to my mate, I don’t blame her Az is the sweetest most precious soul that I’ve ever known and because of that he indulged her, not intentionally, he just wanted to help her getting used to her new life, which gave her the impression that he was interested, and when she tried to make a move and he rejected her, she almost attacked me, blaming me that I stole Azriel for her. And while her sisters were on my side, they couldn’t let her sister's side either. Since then my relationship with the Acheron middle sister is non existent.

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

After I was given the good to go by Madja, Az help me with training, giving me small exercises to regain strength, while always making sure I was okay and drinking enough water. I tried to talk to him about what happened with me, but every time I tried it was fruitless, is like all his walls shot up and he becomes a shell of himself, he has nightmares most nights and when he wakes up he makes sure I’m breathing and then proceeds to hold me tight trough out the night.

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane, so (louder)

Choose your last words, this is the last time

'Cause you and I, we were born to die

As Madja said the memories will be recovered with time, they did and I remember everything, the night before battle, the fight before battle and the moment I saved my mate for being killed to me being stabbed by a faesbane coverd sword. And even though I remember all the traumatic events, one thing is echoing in my head. Azriel last words before battle “…this is who I am, this is who was raised to be, born to be, if I have to die there knowing that you are safe, then my mission is done” it’s like he thinks himself as a weapon, he always did, but I thought we were past that.

“Love, are you okay?” Azriel’s melodic voice breaks through my thoughts, making me snap my eyes to his hazel almost gold eyes. His scarred fingers wipe gently my under eyes, I didn’t know I was crying until that moment.

“Az, do you still see yourself as a weapon?” I look straight into his eyes, but when he adverts his eyes, I got my answer. “You know, we talked about that for years, I thought that you didn’t see yourself that way anymore” I say gently.

“I know, trust me I know, but when the war began and everything happened, my only thought was that I have to keep you safe, and if that means be a weapon, t-then so be it” his voice breaks at the end “when you saved me I couldn’t be more proud to call you my mate, I was so ready to run to you, and hold you, but the moment that that soldiers s-stabbed you, I-I lost it, I didn’t even realized more soldiers were approaching me, but it was like my brain knew and I killed them all just to get to you” A few tears scape his eyes, with shaky fingers I cup his face and wipe them, his eyes look up at mine, and all the pain I see there breaks my heart.

A sob scapes my lips when I tried to talk, taking a deep breath I tried again “We are stronger than this baby, we are going to go through this together as we always do, and if I have to remind you every day for the rest of our lives that you are not a weapon, that you are worthy, and wroth living for, I will, always, but you have to promise me that you will try, and never give up on you, on us” I tell him, resting me forehead against his, while looking deep in his eyes. His chin quivers with, and tears wet his eyelashes. Azriel gives me a nod while chanting “I promise” over and over again.

We were born to die

(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)

We were born to die

A pain prickles my neck making me hiss and my mate's heveas a hiss of his own while touching his neck, my eyes look at his neck looking at a tattoo, a skull with wings, “The Angel of Death”, that’s what that means, what they used to called in the Court of Nightmares. My power, death in every shape or form. My fingers trace the portrayal of our promise mark on our skins. His eyes adverts to my neck, looking at what I know is my tattoo, it’s a skull with truth-teller he says, while shaky breaths and broken voice.

“Please don’t leave me again” he says after a few moments “I wouldn’t know how to bear with that, the past month and a half, it was hel” his eyes plead with me.

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane

I gave him a reassuring smile, crashing my lips with his, in a silent promise that everything is going to be fine, that we are going to do this together. Whatever long it takes. That I have him as he has me. That our love is unconditional and strong. That we will have again moments like the one we had before battle. And specially that we will be together to whatever life throws at us. And I’m that moment draped in each others arms, everything feels right.

So, don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane, so (louder)

Choose your last words, this is the last time

'Cause you and I, we were born to die

We were born to die

(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)

We were born to die

Why? (Got that?)

Who, me? (Louder)

(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)

Why? (Got that?)

Fin.

A/N: well as I said I’m new to this, I hope you enjoy, I accept constructive criticism and feedback. Thank you and sorry for any grammar errors 🫶🏼

[sanjisluvbot]

Geto x Black Fem Reader

Hopes and Dreams

Summary: He took everything from you, yet, he still wanted more. What can you take from something so broken? Would there ever be a happy ending?

A/N: this is pretty much a blurb, got the thought randomly. I wanna see if you guys like it and then I will post the full version. There will be no non con.

“ Do you think I’m cruel?”

She couldn’t bring herself to answer, cruel didn’t even begin to describe who he was. He waited a few minutes for her answer and let out an exasperated sigh, Oh, the dramatics of the woman he loved laying on the duvet.

He walked over to her and laid beside her gently grabbing her chin so they could be face to face.

“ I’m sorry for being rough with you, I hope you will one day understand that everything I do for you.. is out of pure love.”

She didn’t have the energy to scream anymore. Lies, is what she would’ve said had she not been so exhausted by this endless nightmare. A girl full of hopes and dreams, now shattered, in darkness without a light to grasp at.

“ I know you could never forgive me in this life time, but I will spend the rest of it trying.”

Suguru would go to hell and back if it meant she could be happy, but he wouldn’t return what he took. His infatuation ran deep in his soul. From the moment he laid eyes on the foreign girl he knew he wanted her to himself.

To protect, to love, and to conquer.

He wanted to bring back the life he drained from her once radiant skin. Bring back the woman who took great care of herself down to her toes. That reminded him, he would get the Monkey’s to bathe her in a few minutes.

“ I could give you the life you’ve always dreamed of. If you could just return the love I’ve given you.”

“ I could never love something like you.”

He grinned. There are still some embers that haven’t completely burned out. He was on a mission to add fuel to that withering fire, anything it took. For her.

[multiplicationdivision]

Transfiguration Pt. 2

Vic tapped the earnest little jock on his shoulder.

The man turned to look back at him. He was cute, Vic could admit. Red hair bringing a good amount of warmth to his pale skin, marked with freckles. A familiar face that Vic had seen countless times, always slaving away here. Never seeming to stop for even a second, bounding across the gym with endless energy. He’d shot a grin at Vic many times, yet Vic had never returned it. Vic had his gift and his gift let him just a little too deep into that façade to fall for it.

Anxiety reeked off the guy, even now. His thoughts painted themselves across the air, trying to surpass the darker turnings of the guy’s brain. Every bit of exhaustion and burn of muscles working to distract from waves of pure depression.

Vic had met many gym obsessed men, and while he had felt the regular bursts of insecurity or pride that fueled some, this was different. The exercising becoming a vice, just like any drug.

Frankly it was annoying and the guy always managed to ruin whatever trips he made out here. Vic explicitly only visited the gym for the fun of it, his gifts made th muscle gain or increase in health meaningless. He could be as buff and attractive as he wanted. Vic came because running on a treadmill for an inhumanly long time was pretty relaxing for him. Except at least when that mental chokehold of a man wasn’t in here, angsting directly into his vibe.

Fortunately, Vic hadn’t come here to work out this time. He needed a housemate back. The Chucks had been on him about that for a week. Dear little Richard still needed to help them pay rent and Vic’s magic didn’t really extend past warping people. At least he didn’t think so. He was able to make clothes and shit, but objects were just too uninteresting for his brain to detail.

Bottom line. He didn’t want to learn when he had an easy fix right in front of him (As well as a housemate that he kind of owed to not completely remove from existence)

This poor shmuck, Dave his mind whispered, sat there with a surprised expression. He had been grinning a second ago as he toweled off, but the sudden stop wrenched that practiced expression off his face. His eyes widened as if he was caught in the act of pretending to be happy. Or maybe he was just surprised as Vic reached his gift past the waves of turmoil and into his being.

Vic felt pretty unguilty changing this man’s brain. He was clearly unhappy and Vic hadn’t really cared about the whole backstory. He’d already found the surface level wants of having a better brain, thoughts less out to pick upon every action. A thousand wishes of being able to forget his past and move onto another life.

A bad mom, a bad girlfriend, an awful job. A bad roll of the dice on brain chemistry and some good old toxic masculinity pushing him to increase his testosterone instead of going to therapy.

Vic was sure that little Dave would be happy to know that Rich had basically an opposite life. A boring one, in Vic’s opinions, but to be fair, Vic had a weird fucking life. Rich apparently went to therapy so much, at least from last time Vic had really talked to him. Before they’d both decided to turn Rich in Chuck, which was very permanent now.

Rich also had a very loving father and a collection of lovers. Vic personally thought that was dumb, it was far better to have a bunch of the same lover in his opinion. Chuck was a machine and two Chucks were a fucking industrial revolution. Vic would say he was very satisfied in his relationship.

Except for his two darling dipshits hounding him about Rich every fucking day. The Chuck who’d been Rich once upon a meaningless time feeling guilty or something for stealing the man’s body. Vic had tried to explain that he was basically still Rich, just with his brain and body rewired to look and act just like the far more attractive Chuck. That hadn’t helped apparently, according to the other Chuck.

Now he sat with a bored expression as the helpless Jock moved to reconstruct his friendly face and ask him something. Vic didn’t give a fuck about this guy. The only thing interesting in Vic’s opinion were his pretty rocking body and his tangled up psychic imprint. The body would be a shame to lose. The monster of a soul was mostly interesting in an academic sense, but Vic wasn’t a psychologist.

Vic decided he’d deal with the brain only for now. It would be more exhausting warping the cameras and minds of the others in the gym to hide the body transformation. Easier to just do a copy paste of the last mental state of Rich and finish it up in an alley way or something.

Vic did that simple action and Dave’s expression changed. It shifted into recognition in a second, spiced with some surprise. The eyes on the redhead shifting down to look at his arms and then catch his eye on a close mirror.

“Sup Rich” Vic said, cutting to the chase. Never helped to leave Rich to bask in this thing he did after every transformation. The man loved the feeling of his identity being meddled with and it was probably why the guy was in therapy. It also got annoying waiting for the guy to catch up through the haze of his enjoyment.

Rich pulled himself out of his thoughts. “So I definitely wasn’t Chuck a minute ago. Don’t even remember anything about us hanging out or anything. Usually pretty good about retaining that shit”

He was actually. Rich had a skill at retaining information even as Vic pulled it in and out of his brain. His personality was sticky like that, somehow backing up memories of the people that were superimposed on him even after he was turned back. Maybe it was because Vic and him would do it so often, but the skill was the backbone of that dynamic. Rich always hungry to live other lives and Vic always wanting Rich to be anyone but himself.

He flexed an arm at Vic. “Definitely don’t remember ever being turned into this guy Dave, although I can’t really contain” He grinned and poked a muscle, enjoying watching it move. Rich wasn’t ever this jacked but he’d probably wanted to be. Vic agreed that it was definitely an upgrade.

“Liked two Chucks more than your sorry ass” Vic mocked. “Wanted to keep my new guy more than I admittedly wanted our stellar conversations”

Rich laughed at that. “That sounds like you. So, the original me is still turned exactly into Chuck?”

“Yup, you got a problem with that?” Vic genuinely wanted to know, although he couldn’t help sounding intimidating. Vic was trying to be more “empathetic” about his powers, mostly because the Chucks got mad at him for duplicating one hot doorman. Like they even knew that passing pedestrian he’d converted into another Seth. Ridiculous.

On a positive note, Seth had been having a great time getting to know his long-lost twin, also named Seth. They shared the same life history and memories up to the point of Vic’s meddling but were too dumb to properly understand that they were the same person. Vic had followed the two on their shared Instagram. They’d adopted a dog. Vic was making a positive impact on the world.

Rich smiled as he looked at his bicep again, ever the narcissist. “I think I’m finding myself pretty fine with it. Even though I’m not like… the real Rich” Rich seemed to digest that idea in his mind before moving on without much of a care. He wasn’t an existential type. “Eh, as long as I can keep this awesome body, I’d be fine with you even bringing back my actual self. He’d be so jealous of this beard”

Vic was sure the original Rich would be, he always loved fucking guys with hair. That guy would never be back though, because he was buried under the mind of a lot hotter of a man. Rich was probably Chuck forever now and some part of Vic’s gift knew he was fine with that.

“You can keep the body, I don’t care. Just get home sometime soon to chill out Chuck” Vic smiled at just the thought of his guys. Probably sitting at home, fighting over the same controller of Halo. He was horribly smitten and had to be held back (often literally) from increasing their number.

“A secret twin is hard enough to explain to you mom Vic” one Chuck had said. “Hell knows you wouldn’t be able to turn us back into whatever fucker you replaced” the other had backed up.

They were right. Vic couldn’t help fixating on how good a third Chuck would be. The number three just felt so incredible every time the idea struck his head. His brain was good at trying to trick itself into his impulses and his gift was always just a hair trigger away from fulfilling that goal. It reeled up as it always did, already tensing up like it was a snake waiting to strike.

He repressed that lustful wish, no matter how nice it sounded. His boyfriend was right, it was adding far too much complication to their life. Logically Vic knew that. Didn’t make the image of three of that hot man surrounding less intoxicating. Vic liked what they currently had too much to act on his impulses though, resisting the eager pull of the magic.

Energy had to go somewhere though, especially when the user didn’t much care for how it was let recklessly through the environment. As long as it didn’t end in another of Chuck, it wasn’t Vic’s problem.

The power that came so naturally to him then decided to follow a familiar channel and command, one made minutes ago. Snaking with the entire memory and soul of a man, warping around the room until it found a close enough target. A path of least resistance.

A nearby man jogging on a treadmill slowed his run to a stop and just stared dumbfounded at Vic and ‘Dave’. This guy hadn’t even been putting off bad vibes to warrant a moral transfiguration. Vic hadn’t even seen him before this moment, a complete stranger. Just a dumbfounded stare, Italian and sweaty. His wavy black hair damp and swept back as he panted from exertion.

Vic had really made a (small) effort to be ethical. Mistakes get made. Sometimes you completely overwrite a man and don’t really know him well enough to undo it. Can’t fix something if you don’t know where the pieces go. Vic would deserve a kiss from both of his guys for trying at least.

“Vic what the fuck” the stranger said, even as his arm also came up to grip his also well-muscled arms. Typical that he would immediately be obsessed, even with the skill the man had in retaining two person’s worth of memories.

‘Dave’ glanced over at the stranger and back at Vic, understanding what the man had done in a an instant. He smiled and waved at the man near the treadmill. “Sup Rich! Sick body”

“You too man!” The other Rich grinned back. Their smiles were somehow identical despite the great differences in their faces, mirroring the same personality through different mediums. Their voices even had the same cadence, different vocal cords rising in parody of the original Rich’s midwestern sound.

They both ran up to each other, displaying another barely surprising facet of Rich’s submissive little personality. Always willing to accept their fucked up circumstances with boundless enthusiasm. Both had Rich’s stupid little swagger in his step, although the body differences and lack of muscle memory made the motions slightly awkward. Both men’s bodies trying to follow the personality of Rich first, despite the ways these bodies naturally moved.

“Name’s Kyle actually” the other Rich said with a flirtatious tone at himself. Vic rolled his eyes. “Still remember this guy’s life pretty good, could show you a couple things he knew”.

“Name’s Dave, my handsome friend” the initial Rich responded in equal flirtation. He felt up his twin’s arm as if he owned it, freckled hands on the other man’s olive skin. The energy of their mutual curiosity literally visible to Vic’s eyes in the form of their coiling energy. “I don’t got much in the way of extra knowledge from this guy, but he’s been aching for a good time”

Vic was sure they would probably get to some uncomfortable PDA in front of him if he didn’t move. They were hot but it was still Rich and Vic had two men he’d much rather be watching at home. Plus he didn’t need more evidence of Rich’s fuckboi tendencies.

“Welp, have fun with that boys” Vic said as he turned and walked away. He heard Dave-Rich shout a “thanks weirdo” as the other quickly echoed the sentiment.

They were already trading their body’s life stories as if it was an actual date when he shut the front door. Two Richs, although he could probably change that later if they were too annoying. He headed too his boys nonetheless, ready to kiss one as the other kept playing their video games. His perfect multitaskers.

Part 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/multiplicationdivision/727744737475493888/transfiguration

[rite4fun]

and if you had stayed?

a short blurb of pure angst! i couldn’t help it when i saw this gif- i had to make a fic right away! currently working on three different fics also so more work will be put out this weekend!

special thanks to all your kind words under my two other fics <3

••

the wind whips around the old cabin, rattling the already fragile windows. your whole body trembles, a chill ricocheting through your veins as you hold the gun towards the woman infront of you.

she’s strapped to a chair in the middle of the room, her body slouching in exhaustion from your many bouts of struggle.

“you’re not going to do it so you might as well put the gun down” her weary voice fuels the fire that still burns inside you.

you’re cocking the gun, index finger caressing the trigger as you sway closer, “what makes you so sure?”

she lifts her head, blood coming from the many different wounds on her face but the cunning smirk that graces her lips is as clear as day to you, “because daryl wouldn’t be very happy to know you killed someone he loved in cold blood..” at her conscending tone, you can feel your body flush with fever.

“he’ll get over it” you’re inches from pulling the trigger when the door bursts open, daryls figure appearing in the doorway as he assesses the situation.

you never take your eyes off leah because even after years of not being in his presence, you know it is him and by the familar lingering of her eyes- you know he finally caught up.

he calls your name out softly but you ignore him, swallowing the ever building lump in your throat. it’s been so long. you haven’t seen him since ricks abrupt death and yet, just the sound of your name leaving his lips has your knees nearly buckling under you. “why? because you’ve fucked her?” he seems taken back at your harsh words but is quick to brush them off.

“nah.. ‘cause ’s not who ya are” in truth, it isn’t- but he didn’t see what she did to your newfound home. how leah and her fellow reapers attacked it, took it over and continuously seeked out those who escaped.

“you don’t know me anymore..” he made his bed when he left, deciding to stay in the woods to look for his lost brother even after you’d begged him to come home but it wasn’t enough, you weren’t enough.

but she had him- you never did because he left.

the troubling thoughts have you wanting to hurl along with his heavy presence behind you, the distance in your bodies disappearing as he saddles up next to you.

his stomach brushes your arm, the gentle touch sending a shiver through your veins and if you felt like your body was trembling earlier- it now shakes violently and if his hand hadn’t gripped the gun, slipping it from your own, you’d have dropped it.

your eyes travel up his arm, to his shoulder, up his neck and finally.. finally settling on that face you never knew you missed so much until now.

tears blur your vision and you’re finding it hard to breathe, he’s here and looking at you in ways you wished he did before.

but so is she, the one who took the only thing you felt you had found solace in- in the last couple years.

and he won’t let you kill her for it.

you waste no more time in leaving the scene, bursting out the front door and back into the desolate woods, running as far as you can from the abandoned cabin until you’re out of breath and your legs ache.

you’re the one leaving this time and you had no plans of turning back.