#they are my fav fics my comfort fics the ones i go ''ah yes. finally some fucking good food''

[jasmyluv]

[23:56] - Dan Heng - the reader is said to have hair

It was almost midnight. You’re in your boyfriend’s room, sitting on his bed while he sits on a chair, reading a book he found in the lobby of the Astral Express.

You’re sleepy, your eyes trying its hardest to stay open. You don’t know why you wanted to stay awake. There was nothing special happening and you don’t seem to have any important tasks to be done.

So, what was the problem?

The man reading saw your tired, or otherwise, vulnerable state and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene. You almost missed the way his lips turned into a slight smile and the way the melody of his laugh is so soft that you felt like melting, right then and there. He looked so pretty laughing like that.

“[Name],” he called out, pulling you out of your daydream.

“Hm, huh? Yes, Dan Heng?” You ask, rather sleepily.

“Go to sleep. Stop forcing yourself to stay awake. Don’t wait up for me, I’ll be here for a few more hours,” he said. Oh. So that’s why you wanted to stay awake.

“Ah, but I want to,” you stubbornly retort.

“It’s obvious your body doesn’t want to,”

“But, I want to be with you when I sleep,” you shamelessly confess. It would be a lie to say Dan Heng didn’t blush so slightly at your casual confession. He didn’t get it. How could you, his partner for almost two years, still make him react like that? It was a mystery he has still yet to solve.

But until then, he might as well give in to your antics.

“How about this? I’ll be in bed with you while I read. How does that sound, [Name]?” He proposes his suggestion to which you happily nod and finally lie down on his somewhat comfortable bed.

A minute later, he’s in bed with you, your arms circled his waist, your face nuzzled in his body while he continues to read, one hand holding his book and the other, playing with your hair.

A/n: Hii :>> Eyshahahaha this was made at like 11 pm today so it’s pretty wonky. this fic serves as an apology for quite literally ghosting this blog but also my debut for hsr content ! just a drabble of my fav man from the game :))

[student-in-nightraven]

*slides in epically*

Yoh!

I was wondering if you could do a fluff/comfort Obey me fic of mammon or beel (whichever one you prefer)

Where Mc just comes stressed and overworked from work

And has had trouble sleeping for quite a while because of it and one of the brothers just tries to help them with it ^^

(Ofc only if you want!)

(Also your Fics are amazing ✨)

Ah i miss doing ficss and thank you for the compliment!! Also beel is my fav so I'm glad I got this amazing opportunity to write a fic for himm~

Cuddle bug

Genre: fluff

Warnings: mentions being stressed out and overworked

Devildom studies were no easy than human studies, in fact more difficult which was the cause of MCs distress, it was near exam months, if MC was stressed before oh boy were they losing it now.

Constantly studying till they pass out, which rarely happened because they were living on Caffeine, Luci understood that perfectly but he was still concerned.

Living in constant pressure and fear of whether you're gonna pass or not, whether you studied well enough the list goes on. To top it off some extra work from Luci and diavolo, apparently it had something to do with special duties but not that it mattered, all it did was drive them more insane, almost everyone noticed it since they were too tired out to not show it but they tried not to get in their way, except a certain ginger haired twin.

Once you returned from the extra work you were assigned to you thought you'd be tired enough to finally sleep but to your dismay you couldn't, pretty sure it was because of how much caffeine you consumed for this past couple of months and weeks, that and being used to pulling all nighters. Groaning you decide to do some extra work you were saving to do tomorrow, thinking it'll tire you out eventually;

Reaching the end you still couldn't sleep, you were tired oh yes you were but just couldn't sleep, how is that even possible?? Nobody knows, feeling hopeless you bang your head on the desk and just try to close you're eyes to sleep, soon you heard a knock on your door that jolted you, getting up from the desk, you walked to the door and opened it, only to be met with none other than Beel, he was holding chips in his hand and already crunching some in his mouth

"Beel? What are you doing here?"

"I fwas hungwfy *gulp* I was hungry and went to the kitchen to get a midnight snack, but then heard a bang from your room, I took a quick glance and noticed light coming from here so I thought I'd check up on you"

"oh the bang was that loud huh?, *Chuckle* sorry about that but I'm..fine you should go sleep"

Beels eyes narrowed as he looked down at you "MC demons can sense lies better than anything, tell me what's wrong"

Hesitating you let out a sign and invite him in the room, closing the door and turning to him, he sat on the edge of your bed and you sat down on a chair Infront of him; you told him about your sleeping problems and how overstressed/worked you were, his gaze softened as his face was filled with empathy

"I'm sorry about that, devildom does get struggling from time to time, if you want I can talk to Diavolo about the extra work he gives you, I'm sure he'll understand"

You shook your head saying it's okay but he insisted "don't worry I know what to do, and actually the exam months is coming to an end and afterwords I'm sure diavolo will slow down with the tasks too" he smiled at you assuring you, you thanked him, but it still didn't fix your insomnia

He put the empty bag of chips in the trash and took your hand guiding you to your bed, luckily you were already in your PJ's and so was he, he got in bed with you, entangled his legs with yours and spooned you, feeling a gush of comfort you sigh out of relief and nuzzle closer to his chest, you don't know what it was but something about him made you drowsy, he started rubbing smooth circles on your back and playing with your hair(it wasn't the hand he ate the chips with dw), kissing the crown of your head he whispered "it'll all be okay, were here for you, I'm here for you" and with that you were drowsed to the dearly missed dreamland, the sense of comfort never leaving you.

Thank you sm for the request!!! I missed doing actual fics so muchh(⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠) hope you have an amazing weekend annon!! Love yaa<33

[docheros]

guys i’m so fucking emotional about the absolute gems that are in the dochero and dapperanti tags in ao3. i know most of the tag is just me or all the egos fucking each other but the few that are there, GOD. fight!, kissing a sleeping hero, trust exercise, the works by dearelizaa, ALL JASPER’S FANFICS, like SERIOUSLY these fics have been GIVING. the more popular pairings don’t know the privilege that is to have these fanfics on their tag, really

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hey, I just read your Levi alphabet headcanons and they were so good!! So in relationship to that I was wondering if you could write a sub! Levi fic with a humiliation kink. No pressure, and I love your writing :)

A/N: ah thank you so much! I'm really happy that you like my stuff!! ok sorry this has taken a while but I didn't want to mess this up, I've had so much fun writing this one and it turned out way longer than I expected :) hope you enjoy it!! sub levi is my fav so :P

warnings: nsfw content, d/s dynamic, dom reader, use of 'mistress' but aside from that reader's gender isn't specified, light bondage, crying, humiliation kink :)

You always seemed to know.

You could read him like an open book, and it surprised him every single time. You knew him better than anyone, sometimes better than himself. You could see straight through him, and there was no hiding from that.

Today was no different. It was written in his stiff demeanor, his unusually icy glare, the harsh bite of his words, everything about him expressing that he was on edge much more so than normal. Although he could always relax slightly more when it was just the two of you, today he hadn't yet dropped his cold facade for even a second.

Having had some free time for once in your busy life, you were sat in the armchair in the comfort of your bedroom, nestled in the corner with a book in your hands. Levi had unfortunately been called into a last-minute meeting, much to your dismay, so you waited patiently until he got back.

You heard the slam of the door shutting as he got in and looked up to see him enter, but it was a shock to see the scowl on his face. On any other day the smile you greeted him with would be reciprocated (even if it was only subtle), however that seemed beyond reach considering his bad mood. Your book was quickly discarded.

"Levi? What's wrong?"

Not bothering to look up at you as he roughly tugged his shoes off, he muttered, "Got given a fuck ton of paperwork to finish by the end of the week, plus I've got to watch over the shitty brats from the 104th tomorrow."

You gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry sweetheart. You still have today off though, don't you?"

"Yeah, but if I don't start this work now it won't get finished on time."

"You're going to overwork yourself. Take some time off."

He glared at you, anger smothering his features. "You think it's that easy? You think I don't want a day off? I've got shit to do, I can't just take breaks when I feel like it! Just fuck off and let me work!"

The second the words left his mouth and he saw the way you were looking at him, a wave of guilt washed over him.

"I...I..." He looked away. "Shit..."

Standing from the chair and walking in front of him, you gently took his hand, causing his eyes to flicker up and meet yours. "Levi, look at me. I understand that you're stressed, believe me, but I'm just wary of your wellbeing. You're human too, and even Humanity's Strongest needs a break sometimes." You pressed a finger to his lips when he went to protest. "Think about this logically. If you work non-stop, then you won't be able to concentrate as well, will you? Plus, if you fall behind a little with paperwork, I'm always here to help. I don't mind doing extra if it helps you out. Do you understand?"

"I... don't want to be a burden on you."

"You aren't burdening me if I'm offering."

He nodded, then looked down. "I didn't mean to yell at you." His voice grew smaller, a telltale sign he was nervous. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Levi. I know it wasn't intentional."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, though quickly suppressed it.

"What is it?" You had a vague idea, since the same thing happened quite a lot when he was pent-up, but you wanted to be sure.

"It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"I just thought..." His cheeks got warmer and he mumbled, "Maybe we could try that thing we talked about?"

You cupped his face in your hand. "Are you sure you're up for it at the minute?"

"I need to... I need you to help me let go... just for a bit..."

"Ok then, if you're certain." You kissed his cheek. "I'm going to go and fetch a couple of things, stay put."

Levi stood in the middle of your shared bedroom, hands fidgeting in anticipation as he waited for you to return. This was a jump from what your dynamic usually was, but he desperately wanted to try it and you had happily obliged.

You soon returned, locking the door behind you, holding a neat coil of rope and something else that Levi couldn't quite see.

"This is new for us, so I'm not going to go overboard right away. Is that ok?"

Levi took a deep breath. "Mhm..."

"Remind me what your safe words are."

"Amber to slow down, red to stop everything, and hum the melody if I can't speak."

You smiled. "Good boy."

Placing your equipment on the table beside you, you sat down in the armchair and watched him for a moment, still fidgeting and not quite sure what to do with himself.

"Strip," you commanded, lacing dominance into your tone.

Levi blushed and began taking his clothes off, laying each article on the bed until he was completely naked. He stood before you, feeling incredibly exposed and subtly trying to cover himself.

You shook your head in disapproval. "You know better than that. Hands behind your back."

He hesitantly complied, now unable to hide his rapidly growing arousal, and his face flushed a deeper shade of red.

"Kneel." You gestured to the space in front of you and he followed. "Tell me why we're doing this."

He swallowed nervously. "Because I was mean to you."

"That's right. You took your feelings out on me, so we're going to fix that, hm?"

He nodded.

"Use your words."

"Yes mistress..."

"Good boy." You leaned closer, picking up the thing that Levi hadn't yet seen. "Open your mouth."

He did as you asked and soon found out what the object was. You fastened the ball gag securely and looked down at Levi, smirking at the sight. His eyes were wide as he grew accustomed to the foreign feeling, but he couldn't conceal the interested twitch of his cock in response to it.

"You're so pretty like this. Stand up, turn around, and keep your hands behind your back."

Once again following your directions ever so obediently, you picked up the coil of rope and bound his wrists together, before trailing your fingers over his hips. Levi shivered in arousal and tried not to lean into the touch. You knew how sensitive he was, particularly around that area, so you continued to focus your attention to his hips and his inner thighs; all too soon he was tense and shaking, and the second you pulled away he whined from the loss of contact.

"Patience." You turned him around to face you and leant back in the chair, patting your thigh in invitation. "Come here." He stepped closer, unsure of how to proceed, so you gripped his hips and pulled him down to straddle your leg. He whimpered at the sudden pressure on his cock.

"Do you want to cum tonight, sweetheart?"

Levi nodded eagerly.

"After your behavior today, you're going to have to earn it."

Seeing Levi's curious expression, you stroked one finger up his length, making him buck forwards into your touch.

"You're going to get yourself off on my leg, and I'm going to watch, understood?"

He nodded again, whining as you pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Good. Don't keep me waiting."

Levi wasted no time in grinding down against your thigh, immediately moaning around the gag at the feel of your rough denim jeans against his sensitive cock. It seemed that just having him in such a position was more than enough to get him worked up - your dynamic before had been rather gentle, with only a small power imbalance, so it was a sudden shift to now be in this position, with yourself fully clothed but with Levi naked, bound, and entirely at your disposal.

As you watched Levi rut desperately against you, you thought back to the moment he asked to try this. He told you that he wanted to be used, helpless, humiliated, although he had been rather shy about it to begin with. With the words almost failing to come out, he blushed deeply when you suggested trying it for the first time. You promised it would be a surprise, to keep him on edge with the anticipation and add to the experience when it finally happened, and you certainly hadn't disappointed him if his moans were any indication.

Every thrust of his hips teased him closer to the edge, and as much as you loved to touch Levi usually, this had to be something he did on his own. Knowing that this was all because of his own intense desire, that it wasn't you controlling his movements, that it was his decision to act like a bitch in heat, would only make his feelings of shame more pressing.

You never took your eyes off him for one second, content in the knowledge that it made him feel just that bit more vulnerable, until you glanced at the mirror mounted on the adjacent wall. Levi had clearly forgotten it was there in his pleasure-induced stupor, so you decided that it wouldn't hurt to remind him.

Gripping his chin carefully, you tilted his head to the side so he could see exactly what he looked like in that moment; the mirror was at the perfect angle to reflect every single thing he was doing, all his wanton desperation captured in that perfect image. Although he flushed red in humiliation, he couldn't bring himself to stop his actions, being forced to look himself in the eyes as he rode your leg, and he whimpered in embarrassment as he drooled around the ball gag.

"Look at you, Levi. You're pathetic, aren't you?"

His movements never faltered, but tears began to well up in his eyes as you kept him facing the mirror.

"Imagine if everyone else could see this, hm? Their mighty captain reduced to a needy little slut..."

He sobbed, droplets rolling down his face, and sped up, nearing his high.

"Do you need to cum, Levi?"

A frantic nod in response.

"Do you deserve it? Do you think you've earned it?"

More nodding.

"And you've learnt your lesson?"

A nod and a pitiful whine.

"Very good. Cum for me, Levi."

Tears streaming down his face, Levi moaned as he reached his peak and came with a sharp cry, the sensations all becoming too much for him to bear. He trembled as he came down again, panting and leaning forward to rest his head on your shoulder.

"You've done so well for me, sweetheart," You cooed, reaching behind him to unfasten the gag and untie the rope, putting them both back on the table and taking Levi's hands. He looked up at you and you wiped his tears. "How are you feeling?"

Still catching his breath, he nodded, pressing his forehead against yours. "It... it was really good."

"Not too much?" you questioned, stroking his hair.

"It was perfect... thank you mistress..."

"I'm glad. Now let's get cleaned up, then we can rest. Does that sound alright?"

"Mhm..." Levi smiled lazily and nuzzled against your neck. "As long as I'm with you."

[pyro-doll]

Can I request a angst to comfort Albedo x reader (I’m unsure if I wanna request it as KOF captain!reader) where Albedo and Sucrose are spending a lot of time and reader is fine with it on the outside but on the inside selfishly wants Albedo’s attention. When reader asks for their time so they can go out and do something, Albedo disregards them, not paying attention to them while focused on something with Sucrose and reader decides to leave and finds themselves hanging out with Diluc outside of Mondstadt walls. With Albedo, he finally takes a break and find reader not waiting for him. He goes looking for them when commotions happens and he is informed that reader was in a accident. He goes to Barbara and find reader getting treated for wounds but is also in some type of coma. Albedo is in distress seeing reader not waking up and stays with them till he can’t. This accident starts to affect his work till he gets news that reader is awake. Then apologizing ensue and heartfelt reunification. Angst to fluff comfort

What a lovely request!! Hurt to comfort is one of my favorites! I had so much fun writing this oml albedo is one of my favs. the new summer quests just made me love him more <3 I really hope it is to your liking! It also ended up being rather long I think... Hmm (Side note: hopefully I wrote the relationships in a way you were imagining!!)

"I won't take you for Granted." ~ Albedo x Gn!Reader

Summary: You find yourself missing spending time with albedo, yearning for some time alone with him, only to be pushed away. When you get into an accident, Albedo is forced to reflect upon your relationship, as he misses you more each day.

Characters: Albedo, Reader, (mentioned): Jean, Kaeya, Barbara, Diluc.

Content/Warnings: Hurt comfort/ angst to fluff, description of injuries, reader in coma (you wake up), some cuddles and kisses at the end.

Reader Pronouns: Gender neutral / They/them.

A/n: to the other anon who requested keqing: the fic is in progress and should be out soon ;) + proofread this at 1:30 am so apologies for any typos

(Content below the cut! <3)

You wiped your brow, letting your weapon rest against the wall of your office with a sigh. Training new recruits for the Knights of Favonius was never easy, but you always loved the enthusiasm from the rookies. This particular bunch had been pushing you for harder training, but with the satisfaction of teaching also came the fatigue of combat.

You walked over to your desk, eyeing the schedule you had left lying there. Lunch, perfect timing. It always felt nice to have a good meal after hard training. "But it would be even better with Albedo." You thought. You stretched smiling to yourself. Yes, you would go see if your boyfriend was available for lunch. He was always a good listener, and you would be able to tell him about the eventful training that morning.

Pushing open the door to the office, you spotted Kaeya and the acting Grand Master chatting in the hall. Kaeya gave you a small wave. "Ah, good afternoon Y/n."

"Hello." You waved back. "Hey, while I have you here, have either of you seen Albedo? I'm off for lunch and I thought I'd stop by to see him." You shrugged. Being high ranking knights such as yourself, you reckoned there was good chance that they had seen the alchemist recently.

"Albedo? Hm.." Jean said hand resting on her hip. "I believe he is with Sucrose, in her lab. I don't understand alchemy very well but it sounds like they're working hard at something."

"Thank you, Master Jean." You nodded and walked away, headed for the stairs at the end of the corridor. Albedo was with Sucrose again. You weren't surprised, he was her Mentor after all. You shook off the twinge of what could only be jealousy, as you turned the corner, heading for the door you knew lead to the girl's lab. You gave a quick clear knock, tapping the wood a few times with you fist and taking a step back.

You heard a small scuffle from inside and soon the timid Sucrose appeared on the other side of the doorway. "O-oh! Hello Y/n." She stammered. From the looks of it she hadn't been expecting you. "Are you looking for Mr. Albedo? Let me get him for you." Without waiting for your response, she disappeared again.

You shook your head. Sucrose was always on the shy side, and you hoped you hadn't freaked her out. She wasn't wrong though you had come to her lab several times over the past week, looking for Albedo. Unfortunately, everytime he had dismissed you or apologized, saying he really must work. Then he would turn, and disappear back into Sucrose's lab. You tried to remain low key about the situation. It was common knowledge Albedo was both an incredibly gifted alchemist and not a social butterfly, but you were used to spending more time with him.

You were snapped out of your reverie as the man in question appeared in the door. "Is something the matter Y/n?" He asked, his soft voice monotone and direct.

"Oh, yeah. I was on my way to pick something up from Good Hunter. It's lunch break." You gestured over your shoulder, in the general direction of the town. "I was wondering if you wanted to join me, it's been a while since we've done something." You gave an apologetic smile, trying not to sound to pushy. You knew his work was important, to him and the knights.

Albedo shook his head, expression unchanging. "I am sorry, Y/n, but sucrose and I really must keep working. Alchemy is an ever evolving practice." He had that determined look in his eye that he always got when his work posed a new challenge to him. He made eye contact with the green haired girl, who nodded back with the same enthusiasm. These alchemists held a different level of resolve entirely.

"I understand, good luck in your work." The smile on your face felt a bit more forced than you would have liked. You decided it was time to be honest with your partner. "But seriously Albedo, it's been quite some time since we were able t-" He turned his face away from you pointedly. "... To do something..." Your voice trailed off and you sighed, watching him return to Sucrose's side as the pair worked in tandem leaving you to your thoughts. You closed the door, taking a deep breath.

You turned, trudging away from the lab. You felt a prick of a dark feeling and shook your head trying to right yourself. Surely, there was nothing to worry about. You knew both Albedo and Sucrose quite well, and we're positive that the idea Albedo could be in love with her was out of the question. Then why did you feel so... so bad? You pushed the feeling away attributing it to a mix of you hunger and weariness from the hard morning. You headed for the entrance door, meeting once more with Kaeya and Jean.

"Albedo somewhere else? He always did have a habit of sneaking off when nobody was looking." Kaeya asked you, with a small laugh. You blinked, slightly confused.

"No, he was there. Working as hard as ever." You said, shaking your head and doing your best to look unbothered.

"Y/n is something bothering you?" The acting Grand Master looked at you with tender concern. Something about your body language seemed a bit off, even if your face was as cheery as ever.

You shook your head again, more vigorously. "I mean, nothing personal of course. Those rookies gave me a run for my mora in training this morning though, I'll admit." You faked a yawn, trying to sell the tired act. "Not anything lunch won't fix, in any case." You finished with wave, and you headed out the door, eager to escape the conversation.

You ordered your usual from Sara, who was as kind as ever, and taking your food in a to-go box headed towards the city gates. You liked to enjoy your lunch outside the city walls, though usually you preferred to do it with company. Walks in nature with Albedo were always pleasant. Occasionally he'd find an interesting plant, or a butterfly with an odd pattern and get distracted as he examined it. The alchemist would tell you about the strange flora and fauna of Teyvat and seeing him so passionate about something always made your heart flutter. Albedo was not a talkative person, so the moments where he was deep in thought about a subject brought out a side of him most people often didn't see.

Kind memories of Albedo slowly looped back to him in Sucrose's lab, the way he seemed so intent on what she was saying, the way they seemed almost in sync with their thoughts. You felt bad, for wanting him to yourself, even If it was just for a mealtime. You tried to ignore it, it made you feel selfish, and possessive. You hated feeling jealous, but was it too much to ask for some Alone time with your boyfriend? You missed the way he would sit attentively and listen, and tell you all of his most recent thoughts, show you his new paintings, and let you into his life.

A choking feeling rose in your chest, unable to push the feeling away anymore you felt it wash over you in dark waves. You thought getting away from the city would do you some good. You sped up a little as you exited Mondstadt's walls, yearning for time away from the hustle and bustle.

As you cleared the gates, you met a familiar face. A tall red headed man was in conversation with one of the knights guarding the entrance gate. The man turned away ending the conversation abruptly, leaving the poor Knight looking helpless, and a bit frustrated. When you passed the guard he saluted you with a muttered "Afternoon, Captain Y/n."

The man turned, overhearing the exchange. "Y/n? I don't typically concern myself with knights but, aren't you supposed to be working?" His voice was slightly heated and you guessed whatever conversation he and the guard had finished was not a pleasant one.

"Good afternoon, Master Diluc." You plastered a smile on your face as you walked nearer to him. "I just finished actually, lunch break." You held up the box of warm food in your hands. And then added, under your breath, "I'm of half a mind to not go back today." You walked past Diluc, beginning to cross the bridge.

"Are you planning on eating away from the city?" He asked, taking a few strides to catch up to you. "Yeah, that's the plan. Just me and nature I guess." You couldn't hide the upset tone of your voice this time and the man next to you looked down in concern.

"I'll accompany you. From the sounds of it-" he cast a scathing look back at the guard who flinched under his gaze. "-there's a couple abyss mages running rampant nearby. It's not smart to head out alone."

"Mm.. I'll have a chat with him when I return then." You glanced at the guard who was now positively shaking. "Although, that's a problem for after lunch." You agreed, and the two of you set out away from the city of freedom. Diluc had always had a strong sense of justice, and you knew he would insist to escort you, in the name of caution. You also couldn't find it in yourself to explain you wanted alone time, fearing that if you mentioned anything you might breakdown entirely.

You had met diluc some years prior. You had both joined the Knights of Favonius when you were teenagers and had gotten on well. You kept in contact ever since, and if there was ever an issue you couldn't fix because of your ties to the knights, you would find diluc, and when there was a problem too big for him to handle alone, he would find you. Ever since a coincidental meeting in the middle of the night some time ago has revealed his double life as a vigilante, you had grown to be good friends.

You walked in comfortable silence, which was normal for the two of you, but as the silence hung over you, it gave space for your doubts to fester. Diluc peered at your face, noticing the way you were biting your cheek and how your eyebrows knit.

He cleared his throat, before hesitantly speaking. "Something seems to be bothering you, Y/n." His words were gentler than usual, giving away to his concern.

"No? Nothing." You said. Your voice was full of an exaggerated incredulity, as you tried and failed to act nonchalant. "What even made you think that?"

Diluc sighed giving you an 'Are you serious?' look that you pointedly avoided, turning you eyes to the worn path. "Do you really need me to answer that question?" He was exasperated, and you knew you were caught, but you stubbornly pushed through.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's not like you too worry in any case. Are you okay?" It was all a lie, but you were convinced pretending you were fine would ease the creeping feeling still sitting heavily in your chest. Diluc raised an eyebrow at you. "I think I hold a reasonable amount of concern."

You knew he had a point. Your cool facade surrounding the your troubles had slowly been cracking, as if being chipped away by a chisel of doubt. When your companion had asked you what the matter was, you had barely enough to cover your problems anymore. You crossed your arms tightly, turning to look at Diluc. Under the look he gave you, you sighed and let your arms relax, anxiously drumming your fingertips on the box of food.

"Yeah... Yeah something is bothering me." You admitted. "It's really not a big deal though, I know I shouldn't be upset." You fiddled with the box not sure where to go with the conversation. Truth be told you were hoping the subject would drop, if Diluc pressed matters you would have to admit your feelings out loud.

The man beside you hummed, apparently thinking on it. "Is there any way I can be of assistance?" He said simply. You shook your head, making your way to a large bent over tree, and perched yourself on top of it. Diluc sat next to you.

"I appreciate the offer, but really I don't think you can." You felt helpless at the moment. Could anyone help you? What would you even ask for help with, pulling Albedo away from work, getting the attention you wanted? Of course not, you would sound insane. Your hands shook slightly and you set your food on the ground near your feet, suddenly not hungry, the knot in your stomach taking up too much space.

"Would you like to... Talk? About it?" Diluc's question was gentle. You knew he wanted to help where he could. "I might not have the best advice, but I'd gladly listen to you Y/n."

You were quiet, the offer hanging tantalizingly in the air. You did want to talk about it. Letting your emotions sit twisting around in you like smoke, making you feel sick, was doing you no good in any case. You nodded slowly. "It- Well I know that it's irrational-"

Suddenly there was a loud panting and ruffling sound from the trees behind you and you snapped your head around. Eyes fixed on the scenery with intent, you and Diluc slowly stood, both immediately on guard. Then, from the brush a man stumbled out. He looked like a resident of one of the nearby towns, a basket on his back spilling out mushrooms he had been foraging for moments before. You rushed to his side, weapon drawn and help steadily at the ready.

"Excuse me sir, are you hurt?" You asked urgently.

"N-no I- Abyss mages. Two of them." He panted as you helped him to his feet. The fellow seemed unhurt but thoroughly shaken. "And hilichurls!" You did your best to calm the man as Diluc kept his eyes fixed on the trees.

"You should head back to town, Springvale is near." You soothed. The man nodded, gratefully scrambling away from the trees he had just come from.

"Diluc we need to take care of these as soon as possible." You had slipped into your work mode, voice clear and sharp and you analysed the situation at hand. "This close to the villages... It's a recipe for disaster."

Diluc nodded agreement, his claymore held ready at his side. With that the two of you were sprinting into the foliage, the safety of the city laying priority in both of your minds.

Albedo's hands turned pages in a large book, as his eyes lay fixed on the small vile of strange liquid In front of him. He picked it up briefly, swishing the contents around, before taking a quill to the pages of his journal. He and sucrose had been working with a new ingredient in the lab over the past week, and we're studying it to find out it's origins and how it was to be used, as the reactions they had so far varied wildly.

With a huff, Sucrose dropped a heavy book beside him, pointing to a highlighted passage. "Mr. Albedo I think I found a family of flora which could possibly yield similar results." Her voice was meeker than usual, catching Albedo's attention. He took his attention away from the book, observing Sucrose's weary eyes and slumped shoulders. They had been working tirelessly for days, and it was only natural she be tired.

Albedo nodded at the book. "I appreciate it sucrose. I think you have well earned some rest now." It was a bit after lunch time in any case, and he was starting to get hungry. Sucrose agreed gratefully.

"Uhm- Mr. Albedo, are you going to find Captain Y/n?" Sucrose stammered, and she swallowed hard when Albedo turned to look at her. "Well Y/n has showed up a few times a-and I think maybe you should go see them?" She finished unsurely.

Albedo's expression was unusually soft. He had been planning to see you. Giving a break for lunch was just as much to see you as it was to give Sucrose some rest time. "Yes. I was planning on finding them." He checked the clock that was hanging above the door, noting that at this time you would still be out. You liked to take your time over lunch, stopping to look at flowers or simply enjoy the outside. That was one of the things Albedo loved about you, was that you appreciated nature like he did.

He pulled on his coat which he had discarded in the stuffy lab, and opened the door striding out into the hall. Making his way down the corridor he gave a quick acknowledgement to his fellows as he passed, making his way to your usual lunch spot, stopping by good Hunter as he walked.

His pace was a bit brisker than usual, and as he strolled through the streets he became more engrossed in his thoughts of you. Perhaps he had been a bit harsh earlier, he thought. It wasn't his intention but he would make it up by giving you his full attention over lunch. He was on the tired side from an intensive few days studying, and wanted nothing more to lace his fingers in yours as you talked about your week with him. He could sit in silence and enjoy your company. A small smile pulled at his lips as he imagined it, turning onto the hard dirt path outside of Mondstadt.

He spied your lunch spot, finding it empty. He frowned, perhaps you had gone back to headquarters early. He noticed something was off as he approached the crooked log. A tin a food lay near the base of the log, apparently flipped over and discarded. Shooing a squirrel away from the tipped over contents, he recognized the ingredients as part of your usual order. He stood up quickly scanning the ground. There were small signs of a struggle, the brush behind the log was slightly flattened, several bushes bore broken twigs.

His heart skipped a beat. He shook off the feeling you might be hurt, you knew how to handle yourself in a fight. He stood uselessly eyes glued to that tipped over box of food. The meal was still warm. He remembered a time you told him you asked for hot food on days when you didn't feel your best. 'Something about it is comforting, you know? It's like getting a hug from your food almost!'

The memory of how you laughed about that stuck out in his mind. The feeling something was wrong grew stronger, as his eyes found a set of foot prints. Two sets. From the spacing he gathered they had run off into the forest, offering explanation for the trampled plants. He followed them, something urgent had definitely drawn you away from your lunch. Albedo drew his sword as he navigated his way carefully through the trees. His practiced eyes followed the path, picking up trampled flowers and more foot prints. He marched into a clearing, avoiding some felled trees. Scorch marks. The beaten trail he had been following appeared to go ahead but the alchemist stopped, caution becoming his priority.

"Y/n? Y/n are you here?" He called out. Your voice did not answer but he heard others, a group of people. He snapped his head around when he heard the faint desperate voices. They sounded serious, perhaps urgent. Albedo rushed away from the clearing and towards the voices, heading towards the nearby Springvale. The voices seemed somewhere between him and the town and as he ran, he noticed more foot prints. This time there was one set only.

He rounded a corner spotting a small group of people. Still no sign of you. He reminded himself that there was a chance you were not involved in whatever happened here as he approached the villagers.

"Excuse me, has something happened?" Albedo let his weapon go as he in joined the conversation. At the sound of his voice a woman turned nodding, her face anxious.

"A monster attack, they were staying near the town and a few of the villagers get caught." Her voice was shaky, and clearly she was in shock. "My husband was one of them."

"A couple of the city folk ran in to save them." A man added it, patting the woman on the shoulder to calm her. "Actually it was that Ragnivindr boy. And one of the Knights of Favonius's captains. Can't remember that one's name, Y/n I believe?" He shook his head, trying to recall the details. His description of you matched perfectly and Albedo tensed.

"Where are they now?" Albedo urged.

"Headed back to the city. They cleared those monsters right up but not without consequence." The man sighed, a bit sadly. "That Knight looked pretty badly injured. Had to be carried back, and quickly too." He said, and began to muse about the risk of such dangerous creatures near their town, but Albedo had already turned and began headed for Mondstadt.

The journey back to the city passed in a blur, as Albedo rushed over the bridge and passed the gates, anxious to make sure you were okay. He was unsure where to go first, and decided ultimately to ask Jean. Albedo was remaining calm on the outside but internally he was bordering Panic. He knew you had an instinct for protecting others, but he really could do without you running into battles randomly. Unfortunately, that was part of your job. Albedo steadied his thoughts as he walked into headquarters, logical thinking was typically his strong suit but there was no logic behind emotional distress like this. The only way to deal with it would be to try not to worry. Which currently, was not working for him.

Without knocking he walked into Jeans office, to find her talking to a tall well dressed man, that he recognized as Diluc. The two turned around looking for who was responsible for the sudden entrance. "Apologies for the intrusion." Albedo kept his voice calm, outwardly showing no sign of distress. "I heard Captain Y/n may have gotten into some trouble."

Jean nodded. "I was wondering if you might show up. I was just talking to Master Diluc about it." She looked at him now. "I'm not sure what happened myself, needless to say I'm surprised you took the time to come here."

Diluc sighed, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. It was true that normally, he would not be found in the Favonius headquarters, but something seemed to be off about him. "Yes, normally I would trust that Y/n would have no issue filling you in themselves, but I doubt that is going to happen this time."

Albedo and Jean looked at diluc, with looks of concern and curiousity. Diluc proceeded to fill the two in on what had happened.

There had been more hilichurls than you had expected when the two of you had found their camp. There was only one Abyss mage to be found though, so Diluc and you had jumped in preparing for a hard fight. You were managing well, despite the extra effort needed to compensate for numbers. The second abyss mage however, had used the commotion to sneak up and ambush you, but it's attempt did not go unnoticed. The mage had aimed a cryo attack at Diluc, and without time to warn him you had thrown yourself between the mage and your friend, taking the full blast of the attack.

Diluc had his eyes fixed on his feet. "Barbara is taking care of the injuries now."

"How bad are they?" Jean asked, worry lacing her voice. She felt the Knights were her responsibility, and her deep care for each of them left her with a twinge of guilt.

Diluc didn't answer at first, and Albedo began to fear the worst. If he knew you would be okay he could quell his worries but here... Something like this was out of his control and it made his heart clench.

"Not fatal." Diluc said finally, after some consideration. "I've seen people come out of worse, nothing Barbara can't handle for sure but..." He trailed off.

"Is there something else?" Albedo's question came out a bit sharper than he intended, letting some of his internal feeling slip into his tone. Diluc looked at him, slightly sadly and shook his head.

"No, that's all." He turned and walked out of the office, not paying either of the knights another glance. In truth, there was more too it. Diluc had seen firsthand how lifeless your body had fallen after getting hit. Your skin had been cold and breath faint as he carried your limp form to the cathedral. The way Barbara had gasped as she laid a hand over your chest exclaiming how distant your life force felt. The guilt he felt kept him from telling Albedo exactly what was happening. You had mentioned you had started seeing him before, and the regret Diluc was feeling about your injuries made looking at him a little too difficult.

Albedo was frozen in place as he tried to process what to do next. A dark feeling of guilt and worry was eating at his insides, keeping him stuck uselessly in place. Luckily, Jean provided him with an out.

"Go check on Y/n, Albedo." She said softly. Though you two had not publicized your relationship, the Acting Grand Master was not oblivious to the fact he had grown close to you. "Let me know how bad the situation is when you return, unfortunately I still have much work to do." She returned to her seat, leaning on her desk with a knowing look.

Albedo nodded. "I will, thank you Master Jean." He turned, leaving Jean alone with her work and worries. Shutting the door behind him he began making his way towards the cathedral. He past the large statue in the square, climbing the stairs with haste, and entering the large building.

Inside was quiet, and though the people inside went about their daily lives, praying and chatting Albedo couldn't help but feel a heaviness to the air, pressing down on his chest. He walked as quickly as he could, approaching a small arched doorway in the back of the church that lead to a small infirmary. He rushed through it, nearly running into one of the church's sisters in the process.

"Apologies, miss." He said taking a step back. The nun looked at him with a kind smile, holding her hand up in a friendly gesture.

"No worries. Is everything alright? You seem to be in a hurry." She asked, checking Albedo for scratches or cuts. "You don't seemed to be injured?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm here to see somebody who was brought here recently, a knight by the name of Y/n?"

Even the sister could hear the strain in his voice, noticing the way his brows knit in both worry and hope. The girl's face fell as he mentioned your name, looking at him with slight pity and Albedo's heart lurched. "How.. how bad of condition..." His voice faltered and he clenched his jaw.

The nun rested a hand on his shoulder momentarily. "It'll be okay, Barbara is seeing to the healing now." She gestured to a door down the hall a ways and suddenly Albedo moved by her, heading towards the door.

As he slid by her she let out a cry of protest, but he paid it no mind as he reached for the door. His thoughts were jumbled, only focusing on seeing you okay. He had finally gotten the chance to see you today and he had pushed you away, again. Regret bubbled as he pushed the door open, and took in the sight before him.

Barbara stood near the edge of the bed concentrating as she held her hands over her chest, faint blue light pulsing around her finger tips. You lay unmoving before him, bandages that were quickly wrapped around your chest to stop the bleeding where you were hit had already been dyed red. Your skin looked pale and clammy, the only sign you were still living was the deepening red of the bandages as your heart still beat, if even faintly.

Albedo stopped dead, unable to look away from your body played sprawled on the bed, vision and jacket discarded on a nearby table. Suddenly the nun was at his back again.

"Excuse me sir, we best not disturb the deaconess. She needs full concentration." She said softly. No matter how many injuries the sisters saw too it didn't make it any easier to see people suffer.

"Please, I need to see Y/n." He said as the nun gently guided him away. "I won't leave them alone this time. It's not a good idea t-" The woman hushed him trying to reassure him.

"Barbara knows what's she's doing, she'll have the injuries healed soon sir. Perhaps it would be best to take a walk and come back tomorrow." She suggested and made to return to her work, leaving Albedo alone and stranded.

Barely noticing what he was doing, he began walking, out of the cathedral and towards the Knight's headquarters once again. He knew you would be in safe hands with the sisters, but he couldn't shake the image of your beaten skin from his mind's eye. He dragged himself into the building, aptly avoiding any other knights. He didn't feel like conversation much now. He pushed open the door to his office, half of which was converted to a lab and and moved inside, standing uselessly near his desk.

His eyes moved to the ample amounts of notes that lay in a disorganized mess a top his desk. He always said he would organize them, but it never happened. You had offered to help him telling him that "It might be no fun, but it'll be better together." His hands trembled. He had never reached a state like this before. He had grown so accustomed to your presence he never noticed how much he needed it until it was nearly pulled away from him. Head feeling light, he slipped behind his desk collapsing into the chair. He needed to unwind, to bring his mind into a state where he could return to focus.

His hands opened a drawer subconsciously, reaching for a blank sheet of canvas and a stick of charcoal. It had been a while since he painted anything. He pulled the supplies onto his desk, lazily brushing away studies as he made room for it. Bright eyes scanned the room and settled on a vase of flowers. The beautiful plant within happened to be one of your favorites. Albedo began to sketch, slowly letting the image appear before him. The drawing was supposed to ease his mind but he couldn't help but think how much you would have liked it, the soft encouragement you would give him if you were there, and he slowly sketched his nerves away, left with pleasant thoughts of giving this to you when you were back. You would be better tomorrow, he assured himself, and he would go apologize for missing lunch with you. It wouldn't be much trouble to eat his lunch in the cathedral, as long as you were okay. And with a solid plan in place, his mind was at peace again. If only he knew how it was going to be shattered.

The next morning came and went like usual, and Albedo took the time to fill Jean in on the situation before returning to his work. Come lunch time he let Sucrose go, telling her to be back in an hour and a half. "Sucrose take this time to yourself. Use it how you wish, I will not get in the way of any independent work you decide to do." He said, waving away her rather over enthusiastic thanks as he left the lab, heading to the cathedral.

He took his time walking through the streets the time, appreciating the lively shops, and the way children laughed and ran around the cobbled streets. Usually, this bustling city life was of intrigue to him, observing the haggling and patterns in which people came and went, but he had other things on his mind today. You.

As he entered the cathedral he met no staff as he headed back to the infirmary this time, heading straight to the door without complication. He set his hand on the handle, before deciding it might be best to knock instead. After a short moment, the young deaconess appeared behind the door.

"Ah, Albedo!" She smiled wearily. From the looks of her ruffled skirts and tired face she had been working all night. "Sister Victoria mentioned you might visit. Come in." She stepped aside letting Albedo into the room.

Your bandages were clean, and wrapped properly now, and you had been changed into a light nightgown, your work clothes removed to be clean. You looked so peaceful, lying so still with your hands on your stomach. Too still, perhaps. Albedo approached the bed, taking a delicate hand to your cheek, brushing his fingers against your skin. It was colder than he would have expected. He moved his hand to hover over your nose and mouth, feeling the faint breath there his shoulders relaxed, but something still felt off.

"Have they woken up yet..?" He asked. Albedo was a smart person, and he knew something was wrong but he was scared to draw any conclusions.

Barabara looked sad. "No. Y/n has been unresponsive, even to my elemental magic." She shook her head. She didn't want to say it to Albedo, but she had feared you were dead before she had used her vision to check you life force.

"When will they wake-up." He said shortly.

Barbara paused, not wanting to deliver the news. "I'm not sure, for the time being Y/n is in-" she took a shaky breath. She too had grown to know you better as you had come in with small injuries often, or were with jean working, and this accident had not left her unaffected. "In comatose." She finished unable to meet Albedo's gaze.

That was no issue though, if she had tried he would have avoided eye contact himself. He wanted to tell Barbara she was wrong, that it hadn't been long enough to tell but he was a learned man and recognized the signs himself.

"Albedo I-"

Albedo shook his head. "You did your job to it's full extent, thank you." He said honestly. If it weren't for Barbara, your wounds would never have healed so quickly, or so nicely. "I would like have some time alone."

Barbara nodded knowingly, leaving Albedo to pull up a chair and sir silently beside your bed. He hand found yours and he interlaced his fingers with with yours, but did not feel the familiar squeeze you always gave him when he did this. He had convinced himself you would be okay, only for that small hope to be ripped away from him too.

Albedo was not a very sensitive person. He was logical, and a realist, but you meeting you had brought in a strange yet warm feeling into his life he had never felt before. You intrigued him, and you took the time to understand him and get to know him. Lots of people were either infatuated with his good manners and kind words, but you had taken the time to listen to them, and he was realizing that these past few weeks he had never given you that time back. He had taken you for granted, spent his time with other people, and turned you away in times where he didn't realise how much you meant to him. Now as you lay unmoving infront of him he realized how much he yearned for your company.

Had he made you feel like this? All those times he declined your invites or pushed you away to work. He couldn't help but feel he had treated those situations wrongly, you had only offered him some company. He had been working and he knew you knew that, but he began to think he had treated you to harshly. Relationships like this were new to him, and you were always so gentle and patient. He should have gone with you today, prevented the terrible outcome. His mind ran probabilities, weighing situations against each other as he imagined ways he could have stepped in to stop you, or how the fight could play out differently.

He leaned forward, holding both of your hands gently in his, as the feelings washed over him. How curious, that a single person could move his heart so strongly.

Time passed both to slowly and too quickly. Albedo stayed by your side well into the evening hours. Every once in a while he found himself drifting off to sleep head resting on your chest, desperate to feel the slight rise and fall no matter how irregular it was. When Barbara returned to the room, it was to usher Albedo out of the cathedral, as she began her nightly duties.

"Albedo, it's time for me to see Y/n again, we'll be starting our nightly rounds here soon." Barbara said in a soothing tone. "You should head home for the night, I'll take good care of the Captain."

Albedo nodded slowly, slightly groggy from the half asleep state he was just in. He stood, brushing off his jacket and giving your resting face a look of longing before quietly walking out of your room. Barbara closed the door, and he was alone with his thoughts again. The night ushered in more issues, including the work he had left unfinished that afternoon. He decided that best course of action was to get a good night's sleep and organize his thoughts in the morning, and he walked off into the night.

The next week in the Alchemy lab was dreary to say the least. Albedo's work quality dropped as well as his focus, as he plowed through experiments clumsily. Sucrose was finding herself with random breaks through the day, and had put together they were more for his own sake, than hers. Work was typically Albedo's escape. He would be able to pour himself into his studies, mindlessly observe and take note but he kept finding things that reminding him of you. Maybe it was a color that he thought you would have liked, or some ancient script you would giggle at pointing out how the letters looked like weird animals. Your absence from his life had left a large hole, that no amount of alchemy could fill. He tried painting, but every time he picked up a brush he found himself painting your favorite things, or places, or telling himself he would give you the drawings when you woke up. When you woke up. Your sleeping face was etched into his mind as if with a fine quill.

You were so devoid of life, all because of a stupid accident and he couldn't bear it. Everytime he visited the hope he would find you laying awake and upright grew dimmer, and soon he began to expect nothing more than your still body, cold and unmoving. Everytime he saw you it was accompanied by a pang of guilt, and longing for your return. Every evening when he decided he could focus on work no more he would make his way to the cathedral and sit by your side until dark, and then a sister would usher him out once more and he would leave, only to repeat it again the next day.

His life moved forward in this depressing spiral for days, until one evening as he made to leave headquarters he was stopped by none other than Jean.

"Albedo?" The dandelion knight called out to him and he stopped, preparing to head out the door. Jean walked over to him. "Before you go I have something for you."

Albedo turned around, curiosity piqued. "Sure." He said simply as the woman pulled a letter from her pocket and handed it to him. He studied the seal, recognizing the symbol of the church pressed into the wax. His heart skipped a beat, as he feared both the worst and hoped for the best.

"Barbara told me I should let you read it yourself. I have already seen the contents myself." Jean couldn't keep the smile from creeping into her voice as Albedo slid a piece of paper from the envelope, unfolding it hastily.

His eyes scanned the letter. It was short and sweet, written by one of the sisters. He barely absorbed the content as his attention was taken by one phrase over the rest.

'Y/n has woken up and will make a full recovery, we will keep you updated on their condition and let you know when they are fit to return to work.'

Albedo's heart leapt. As he reread the line a few times. 'Y/n will make a full recovery.' He handed the letter back to Jean. "Thank you. This is wonderful news indeed." A small smile played on his lips, and his soft voice lost the edge it had carried all week. He pivoted on his heel pushing open the door with an enthusiasm that Jean had not seen before, and strolled out of the building.

He felt the pressure that had been so present in his chest for days alleviate as he grew closer to the cathedral. Albedo was practically jogging with the pace he entered the church, throwing open the door and making a beeline for the infirmary. His head pounded, hazy at the good news. It all seemed to be happening so fast, was it possible that after all of that you could be okay? That you were going to be okay? He found Barbara in the infirmary hallway and she gave him a warm smile, different from the sorrowful ones she had given for what had been many visits now.

Albedo paused outside of your door, taking a deep breath, and Barbara gave him a reassuring nod. "Y/n woke up some hours ago, just please be gentle, the affects of a coma can be quite draining."

Albedo nodded pushing open the door carefully and stepped inside. You were sat, looking out the small window on the other side of your bed, but you turned hearing the door open. Your heart fluttered as the blonde figure shut the door quietly and approached your bed, his eyes not leaving yours. You smiled softly, and weakly held out your hand and he took it, relishing in the returned warmth in your fingers as you gently pulled him on to your mattress and into a hug.

Albedo buried his head against your neck, letting you hold him close. The feeling of your hands pressing into his back and on his hair was all he could ask for after weeks of feeling them limp and lifeless.

You pulled away and your hands found each others, fingers intertwined as you laughed gently. "Been a little while, huh?" You hummed.

Albedo nodded still speechless.

"I'm sorry for making you worry, Albedo." You smoothed your fingers over the skin on the back of his hands, and he softened hearing you say his name. Oh, how he had missed that. Suddenly that familiar guilt crept into his throat, tightening it as he tried to speak. He had no idea what he wanted to say, before without thinking: "No, don't apologize Y/n. I'm sorry."

Suddenly the feelings he had felt over the past weeks welled up again and he felt his chest shake as he took a deep breath. You tucked a strand of stray ash blond behind his ear, smiling all the while. "For what?"

"For taking you for granted." He choked out, as the feelings spilled their way into words. "I'm sorry I pushed you away like that. I realise now that time with you is just as precious to me as it is to you. In a way this helped me realize that." He looked into your eyes, and his honest apology made your chest tighten.

"It's alright, I shouldn't have been so pushy. I understand your work is important I just.. missed you?" You sighed, voice week from your recent ailment. "It was selfish, I shouldn't feel entitled to you like that." Finally admitting it was difficult, and you felt a weight lift from your chest yet the feeling remained still.

Albedo leaned in and kissed your forehead gently and you relaxed under one of his rare affections. "Do not feel guilty for expecting that time from me, I admit you were right. Yet with all things there is a balance, my love." He said softly as you took him into your arms once more. It was rare to see him so touchy in a place that wasn't your home, but you welcomed it pulling him into your chest.

"I supposed your right." You agreed. "As usual." You lay against the pillows that were propping you up minutes before, the alchemist laying against your chest. He hummed softly at your joking praise and his arms tightened around you.

And that's how the two of you stayed for a long while. The relief of both of your apologies settled in place of that dark feeling that had previously sat heavily in both of your hearts, as you drifted back, into a more peaceful sleep. The weight of Albedo against you felt secure keeping you anchored. You ran a hand through his hair as you enjoyed the comfortable silence for a bit.

"Barbara told me you came here every day while I was asleep." You murmured.

Albedo turned his head so he wouldn't be speaking into your shoulder. "I did." He said simply and you smiled.

"That makes me feel a lot better, I'll be honest." Your hands worked through a few knots in his hair absent mindedly. "I'm still a little freaked out about the whole thing."

"I'm glad my presence was of some reassurance Y/n." Albedo pressed a fleeting kiss to your cheek, as there was a knock from the door. Albedo stood, your hands lingering for a moment in one another's as he went to open to door. Barbara stood there holding some fresh bandages.

"Excuse the intrusion but I need to check Y/n's injuries once more. I won't be long."

Albedo nodded stepping aside and letting the girl into the room, before stepping out himself. You gave him a look of confusion, wanting him to stay a little longer."Wait Albedo-"

"Don't worry. I'll be right here waiting for you when your finished. I won't leave you again."

You sat silently, nodding slightly.

"I promise Y/n." And with his sweet words echoing in your mind, Albedo gently shut the door to your room. He would not take you for granted ever again.

°•°

[ashdumpsterpile]

ASH’S TMA HURT/COMFORT/FLUFF REC LIST 

For the gays. (And @damcrows who’s been dead for the past 24 hours. Rest in peace babe. Read some gay fic. Deny the inevitability of canon. <3)

___

the end, but the start (of all things that are left to do)  by @ajkal2

Jon wakes up.

aka. mag200 tore out my heart

(Very smol, very short, very spoiler. Def recommend for anyone who just finished the podcast.)

remind me how to smile by @tamerofdarkstars

Jon is probably fine, just hiding out somewhere while the whole murder thing blows over and that's... fine. Martin is fine with that explanation. Really. He's got plenty to distract himself - like listening through the entire What the Ghost episode library, for example. Or watching Georgie Barker's Instagram livestreams.

(Yea this was in the last rec list, but you don’t understand THE ADMIRAL GIVES CUDDLES)

Chamomile by Dribbledscribbles

Whatever the ex-tea was, if it really had ever been that last bag of chamomile Martin claimed he’d found tucked in the back of the cupboard, it was fast now.

Martin had tried catching it, chasing it, blocking its way with shoebox lids and plates and an upended footstool, but the thing was just too quick. Jon knew as well as Knew that he might have left off the attempts completely if not for the creature’s preferred game.

The game was, See How Many Times I Can Push Martin Towards Cardiac Arrest Before He Comes at Me with The Broom.

(Scottish Honeymoon Era. Adorable and weird. A vampire gets harassed.)

hey stranger by @ennuijpg

It’s a late night Tesco run, how eventful could it be? It’s not like Martin is going to run into his boss who’s wearing something absurdly different from usual and get the most acute form of whiplash possible from seeing him, right?

(Martin runs into Jon at the grocery store and has an existential crisis.)

roses roses, roses. by @judesstfrancis

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses. 

(Canon enemies to friends to lovers au-ish. Martin POV. Very pining much sweet.)

go softly by doomcountry

And there is nothing else besides this. 

(More hurt/comfort than fluff. Scottish Honeymoon Era. Mild eye mutilation.)

Not Alone by @backofthebookshelf

After the coffin, Daisy and Jon are both fragile. They hold each other up. 

(Post-buried Jon&Daisy starter pack. Very hurt/comfort.)

trust my love by antlsepticeye

“you… you’re real, aren’t you?” jon whispers, the fog slowly dissipating from his mind. “it is not a trick?”

“i’m here,” martin says softly, reaching up to grab jon’s hand that was resting on his cheek, intertwining his fingers with jon’s and squeezing. he moves jon’s hand to martin’s chest, resting it over his heart. “you’re alright. i’m alright. take your time, love. let’s just take some deep breaths, okay?”

(TOUCHSTARVED JON HAS ENTERED THE CHAT.)

reaching out by Athina_Blaine

By the time things settled, when Martin had finally managed to crack through his cold shell, feel some of his old self returning to him in bits and pieces, they had found their little routine.

One that had the two of them sleeping in the same bed, making breakfast, going to the mart. Where Jon reached for his wrist while they slept, and Martin luxuriated in the gentle warmth of his fingers.  

But not one where Martin reached back. One that had Martin kissing Jon awake or taking his hand over the breakfast table, because ... Martin never had the courage to try. And then it never became a part of the routine.

And Martin desperately wanted it to be.

-

Martin and Jon have an important conversation.

(More Scottish Honeymoon Era for the soul. Hurt/comfort/fluff.)

Belabor by @janekfan​

Jon's given the position of Archivist and is falling apart at the seams. Tim and Sasha are upset and playing games. Elias is overbearing and manipulative.

And poor Martin is stuck cleaning up the mess.

(THEE first fic I ever read for tma. Season 1, hurt/comfort/fluff, and hints of Jmartin. janekfan is the absolute master of seasons 1-3 hurt/comfort. This is my favorite, but pls check out the rest of their fics.)

tea, blankets, and a damnable stubborn attitude by ivelostmyspectacles

“Are you really gonna stay here and pester Jon all evening?”

“I’m not pestering him,” Martin retorted, sounding vehement if not busy going through the cupboards. “I’m heating up soup.”

“Oh, you might as well make him another cup of tea while you’re at it.”

“Oh, good idea.”

Jon shot Tim a withering look.

(The one where Jon is ill, Martin makes tea and they watch doctor who together. Fluff 1000%.)

A Kind Hand by @voiceless-terror

Jonathan Sims was adjusting just fine, thank you very much.

In which a minor workplace spill causes Jon to realize that he might have friends.

(Ah yes, the other master of seasons 1-3 fic aka voiceless-terror being my other fav author in the fandom. This one is also season 1 hurt/comfort/fluff.)

A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

*

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

(More touched starved Jon! Much hurt/comfort!)

Something Old, Something New by @cirrus-grey

Months have passed, and everyone is doing better than they were. Daisy and Basira are getting married, Melanie is feeling her old self, Georgie is as much herself as she has ever been, and even Jon has stabilized on his wild fall away from humanity. Everyone is doing better.

Well. Almost everyone.

(Daisy/Barsira wedding! Melanie is a bitch and we love her! Jmartin dance! Post-canon (almost) everyone lives!)

The Weight of Love by @voiceless-terror

Jon is a restless sleeper. Martin attempts to adjust. 

(The fic where Jon is literally me and Martin attempts to sleep for 1k words.)

The Art of Conversation by @voiceless-terror

"Do you ever stop talking?"

Jon has a complicated relationship with words. Difficulties come and go.

(Jon has adhd and Martin is in love.)

Novelty by @backofthebookshelf

Jon experiences A Sexual Attraction; Martin has A Concern. They figure it out.

(Any fic that explores the ace spectrum is a 10/10. We stan all ace interpretations of jon on this blog.)

Half a Hug by Dathen

I know you weren’t going to hurt me, I trust you, he said again and again. And then a different kind of fear shone through, hollow and echoing: “Please don’t stop touching me."

-

Or: Life is hard when you're touch-starved but have trauma related to your closest friend.  Spoilers through TMA 132.

(Honestly bless every author who saw jon&daisy and was like. They’re siblings. No I will not elaborate.)

the loneliness never left me (but i can put it down in the pleasure of your company) by Athina_Blaine

It was about Martin making Jon feel safe, treasured, and loved. And it had been so, so long since anyone made him feel that way.

And, in the face of it all, Jon was starting to flounder.

(At this point I just need to make separate rec list for Scottish Honeymoon Era.)

you can watch me corrode by scarletfish

"So, how long have you been pulling this shit then?"

"I… excuse me?" Jon’s indignant, certain she can’t mean what he thinks she means.

"When was the last time you ate?"

(Georgie decides Jon and Melanie need a normal day off. Jon learns that he and Melanie have more in common than he thought.)

(Look, Melanie isn’t my favorite person in tma, but she and Jon are like THE SAME PERSON and I adore fics that elaborate on their relationship.)

Out of the Wind, In From the Cold by @ostentenacity

There are two bedrooms in the safehouse, and two beds.

For a moment, Jon considers asking to share, but decides against it with a wince. “I really loved you,” Martin had told him. Loved. Past tense. And Martin doesn’t exactly have a lot of choices right now in terms of company; it would be cruel to demand he play at feelings he no longer has just to make Jon happy.

(For a moment, Martin considers asking to share. But he dismisses the idea with a shake of his head. Jon has already done so much for him. Martin isn’t about to ask for more, especially not when it’s something he doesn’t really need. He has his right mind back, and he has Jon’s friendship. That should be enough for him. It’ll have to be.)

---

Jon thinks that Martin doesn’t love him. Martin thinks that Jon doesn’t love him. They do not, of course, discuss this. Unrequited love is already awkward enough, right? No need to dwell on it.

(THEE SCOTTISH HONEYMOON ERA FIC. IT’S ABOUT THE PINING, BEING MUTUALLY OBLIVIOUS AND FALLING IN LOVE. 10000/10.) 

I Do by @voiceless-terror

“I, um- this was supposed to be a lot more romantic, I swear.” Martin looks down at the dirty bar floor. “I had it all planned out, I-I was going to take you somewhere nice, and then we’d go for a walk in the square- I’ll still do it!” He hurries to explain, as if that’s the most pressing part of this situation. “It’ll be really nice, I’ve already hired a photographer-”

In a fit of protectiveness, Martin proposes to Jon.

(Everyone lives, Martin accidentally proposes and Jon is crying in public.) 

________

[little-writings]

Hi! I LOVE your writing and you're my fav writer for jumin 💖 Can you do a continuation of your fic 'Before I go to sleep' ? Where MC finally woke up remembering who jumin is? My heart aches for jumin and I would really like to see what happens. You don't have to if you don't want to ><

I think it’d actually be really fun to write a prompt of this sort! Especially since the ‘Before I go to Sleep’ is one of my favorite that I’ve written! Anyhow, I hope you enjoy and have an amazing day, thank you!

‘Before I go to Sleep’ Prompt

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You’d never quite realized how easy it was to start a fuss. After all, the only thing you’d done was say a name. 

You’d only just begun to wake when you felt a rise and fall pressed against your back -- a breathing body, comfortable and steady. You were in a room you didn’t entirely know, but you recognized. And when you turned your head with groggy, heavy eyes you saw a man you didn’t entirely know, but you recognized. Like the fuzziest memories of childhood, a fondness brimmed at your chest. 

A name even came to mind. 

“Jumin...” 

The man beside you shifted at the mention of his name. His sooty curls of hair brushed against your cheek before he raised his head lazily. His eyes flickered open, revealing a soft, velvety grey full of drowsiness. He looked down at you, brows furrowing in confusion as if he thought he might’ve imagined something. 

“What was that? Did you say something?”

You raised a hand to press your palm to his cheek, the edge of your fingertips brushing his hair and the warmth of his face sinking against your skin. “That’s your name, isn’t it? Jumin...?” 

He made a sound almost like a laugh were it not for the disbelief that was so strongly entwined with it. “Yes it is -- how did you-” He took in a sharp breath. “How did you know that?” 

You paused, thinking. “Well, why wouldn’t I? We look close enough for me to know your name.” You chuckled. “Unless I’m wrong?” 

“No... no!” He blurted out the last bit in a rush, his words stumbling out with a fumbling mind. “Would you come with me?” 

You nodded and Jumin hurried from the bed in an instant. He took your hands and led you out from under the blankets and the sheets. The sunshine spilled over your bare limbs and your feet stumbled onto the carpet, but Jumin was practically whirling. He guided you to the bathroom where a mural of photos was on display -- some featuring just the two of you with hands interlocked and smiles engraved upon your faces. Others had a small white cat with the most beautiful coat of fur you’d ever seen, and others featured a group of people with shades of red, yellow, and white among them, and happiness splayed about every one of them. 

‘Jumin Han’

‘Your husband’

‘Elizabeth 3rd’

‘RFA’ 

For each photo, you only had the faintest inkling of who they were and why they were important, but you had a feeling that was more than usual. You could almost make out names and places. 

“These are... our friends aren’t they?” You asked, fingers tracing over the photos. 

“They’re our life,” Jumin answered softly, just a few steps behind you. “I tried to get as many photos as possible to show all that we’d been through.” 

You found the wedding quickly. It must’ve been a grand event because your heart tugged at the very sight of it. 

“How long have we been together?” You asked. 

“Almost ten years now, coming next month. You’ve had this... condition for four years.” Jumin let out a deep breath, and as you turned to see him you noticed just how much he fidgeted. He tapped his knuckles, anxiously grappled with his wrist. Perhaps it tethered him, kept Jumin grounded. “But never once have you remembered anything.” 

“Not once? Not even the accident?” 

Jumin’s eyes widened like saucers. “You remember the accident?” 

The question had slipped without you truly knowing just what it meant. 

The accident. 

Something flashed in your head, deep within those memories that’d been locked away for so, so long. Chatter and laughter between you and Jumin as you sat close together in a car. The beaming sights of the city and the flickers of the traffic lights -- green, yellow- 

And red. Red. 

An eighteen-wheeler ran a red light when it slammed into your car and despite everything Jumin did to save you, it wasn’t enough. The vehicle still slammed into the remaining traffic and your head still careened through the glass. 

“I nearly died.” You muttered. “I was dead at the hospital for a few seconds -- wasn’t I?” 

All it took was that confession, that realization, for the tears to flow. All those thoughts and feelings flooding back in a horrifying break of pressure. Like the crashing of a dam, it was wholly and entirely uncontrollable. You remembered the pain of the glass smashing against your head and the shards that cracked on your skull. Jumin, hovering over you where the brunt of the metal of your mangled car stabbed him. His leg crushed beneath it all, and still Jumin protecting you. 

“Oh god-” You cried, tears flowing and a weight pressing against your chest. 

Your brain had spent so long coping how it knew best, how else could you withstand the onslaught? 

Jumin raced to catch you, but hesitated at the last moment, arms outstretched and worry painting every inch of him. “Can I...?” 

And then you remembered the first mornings after the mechanism began. How you looked at him and saw a total stranger. You’d screamed and clawed your way with all your might granted to you to the corner of the bedroom, and Jumin just as confused and bewildered as you were. In a moment he’d reached out to you, to explain, or just to offer the slightest bit of comfort and your panic reached a breaking point. You hit him. You hit him and locked yourself in the bathroom, clawing at your trembling body and searching for a single ounce of safety where none could be found. 

Only after had you counted to one thousand through shaky whispers did you feel secure enough to step out. 

There, in the living room, you saw Jumin and despite the fear that’d overtaken you minutes before, at the sight of him, what remained was pity. You couldn’t hear a sound and yet could still tell tears had been shed. 

How could you have done that? No matter the years that’d passed since then the pain and guilt was now. 

When you looked up at Jumin, arms outstretched, all you could muster was, “I’m sorry,” before falling into his arms. 

You stayed like that for a good while, even when you fell to sniffles and shivering. Jumin drew gentle fingers over your spine and pressed you close to his chest. His heartbeat was the only thing keeping you grounded, a gentle thump against your ear to remind you that you were here, and so was Jumin.

It was only interrupted by a knocking on the front door, and you knew just who it was.

“Are you okay if I leave?” Jumin asked quietly. “It’ll only be a moment.” 

You gave a weak nod, but that did little to convince him. 

“Are you sure?” 

Another knock. 

“Yes,” You reassured, sputtering a whimpering that was incredibly embarrassing. “Yes, go get V.” 

“V... you remember him too.” 

You heard hushed whispers between the two of them as Jumin brought V inside. He’d only aged a little, thicker frames for his glasses and a tighter grasp upon his cane. But you recognized him in an instant. 

You sniffled, rising slowly. How much his vision had further faded mattered little for you still offered him a smile. “Hi.” 

V gave a gentle grin, moving closer to take your hand in his own, ever so kindly. His heart only softened over the years. “Hi. How’re you feeling?” 

Your chin quivered despite your best efforts. “Not great.” 

V chuckled and gave a squeeze to your palm. “That just won’t do, will it?” 

Your therapist was given a brief call where for as much explanation Jumin attempted, confusion was ridiculously apparent on both ends. She fumbled for rescheduling the next day and wished you both the best but the pauses between every few words told you enough. 

And instead, V called the RFA. 

They’d come in a rush and one by one you recognized them like light bulbs flickering on. Yoosung. Zen. 707. Jahee. If only in the simplest, tiniest flecks you knew them.

“Are you sure they remember us?” Yoosung whispered to Jumin. “They seem... nervous.” 

Zen elbowed Yoosung’s side, his white hair tied up high and tight. “Wouldn’t you be? It’s like waking up from a four-year coma? Or something like that.” 

“It’s not quite like that,” Jahee remarked. “But the poetic sentiment is surely appreciated.” 

You couldn’t stifle the snicker that brought out of you. Jahee’s eyes brightened. “Did you think that was funny? D-Do you remember me?” 

“I do. You’re Jahee -- Jahee Kang. You’ve always helped me and Jumin, always.” 

Jahee adjusted her glasses so that sunlight could hide perhaps the faintest shine in her gaze, the ends of her lips turning upwards. “Yes, I uh -- I suppose I have.” 

“Well, what about me huh~?” 707 chimed, lazily drooping over Jahee’s shoulder. He soon found himself stumbling as Jahee stepped away, staggering to a stop just before you. He hadn’t lost his silliness, but he had steadied himself in his own way. “Remember me?” 

You nudged his shoulder, scoffing. “Of course I do! You talk too much for me to forget.” 

707 grappled at his chest in mock hurt but the boyish grin never left his face. “Ah! Try to have some compassion, I’m sensitive!” 

Jumin approached you and set a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t overwhelm them. I’m sure this is a lot to take in already.” 

“It is.” You answered. “But I want this, I really do.” 

The next few hours could only be akin to opening up a scrapbook that hadn’t been seen in ages. The stories told between you livened up both the room and your mind -- like holiday lights brightening everything in their wake. RFA parties,  anniversaries, and birthdays all those times that brought you together closer than family. 

Each member of the RFA had waited just as patiently as Jumin for you to come back. The whole day they couldn’t stop reminding you of even the most ridiculous of things you’d done together just so you could erupt into giggles and for all the sorrow and pain that’d arose in the morning you could feel joy at that moment. 

Only when night replaced the day and stars decorated the sky overhead did they leave -- and even then it was reluctant. The RFA refused to leave without a hug at the very least. Yoosung, Jahee, and Zen promised to come by in the morning, 707 promised more than a few calls, and V assured you he’d come by at the drop of a hat if you asked. 

Of course, just as the morning began, it was just you and Jumin. 

“How’re you feeling?” He wondered gingerly as he closed the door behind him. 

“Is there a word for when you’re excited but also overwhelmed?” 

Jumin laughed. “I think you described it perfectly. May I?” 

You nodded and he pressed a kiss to your temple, whispering sweetly. “You did so well, if it helps.” 

You sat down on the sofa with Jumin only falling behind at the sight of the television. He eyed it carefully. More specifically, he eyed the tapes beneath the television. “Would you like to watch one of these?” 

You pointed to the one you knew best. “How about the wedding?” 

The smile that brought Jumin made your very heart swell. He started the video without a word and sat down beside you. Your hands brushed beside one another and slowly enveloped like you’d done so many times before. 

The wedding followed just like you remembered. The music that filled the room and the two of you -- a surprisingly small ceremony with only your closest family. Even through the screen, one could see nothing but absolute adoration between the two of you. You practically hurried down the aisle. 

“Are you... afraid about tomorrow?” Nervousness began to bubble up inside of you, digging your feet into the floor. “About me forgetting in the morning?” 

“I’d be lying if I said no. Something like this -- it just seems too good to be true.” 

In the wedding, you’d begun exchanging vows. You could hardly make it through your beginning sentences without bursting into sheepish snickering. You couldn’t quite remember what Jumin murmured to you when you buried your head in the crook of his neck but you’d both laughed. 

“But I do know, that if something does happen, and you do forget -- we’ll take it one step at a time like we always have.” He softened. “It won’t change a thing.” 

Your eyes grew heavy as you watched the last few minutes of the video, Jumin’s vows as devoted and tender as words could possibly be. Your heart threatened to burst just listening to them all over again. 

“Well, in case I do forget,” You rested your head on Jumin’s shoulder, soon resting his own head against you in return. “I love you.” 

There wasn’t even a second of hesitation from Jumin. It was the last thing you heard before you fell asleep, and it quelled all of your fears for the morning. It was going to be okay, no matter what came. 

You’d do your best to say good morning when the next day arrived. 

“I love you too.” 

[bts-reveries]

Thank you for the last two beautiful chapters! It's so sad to think this is almost the end:( Can't wait for the ultimate epilogue tho! Ah you time skipped alot for the epilogue already....all the way until taeyang was born! Perfect name btw! Aww they have a daycare at the studio now!! Im sure jin got the idea after not being able to manage haneul on his own at his office😂 That's perfect tho! Omg is sarang pregnant?! I wish we could have drabbles of each couple getting married and having kids in the future too🥺🥺 But I also kinda don't expect every couple to have multiple children cz i mean at least one of the kids have to be the only child..?😂 I'm so sad that I won't be reading about their lives anymore. Ahh I've become so attached to all the charachters! I'm so sad I can't even comment on every little detail in the two chapters T-T But I loved all of it! Thank you for writing such beautiful stories. This is my fav bts dad fic so far. I don't think i'll ever find another one quite as good as this! It's just perfect and everything I want in a fic! Thank you again! Looking forward to the final epilogue and any other story ideas you are planning to write (if u have any!). Im mad at tumblr btw. I hope nothing happens to your account because this is the only social media platform I'm currently active on:( But I'll keep track of your Twitter account as much as I can even without a twitter account in case something happens! I can't come up with any pick up lines sadly🤪 But please add me to the taglist of the final epilogue😂🥺 What if someone has twins...?!😆 Okay I'll stop lol.

again im sorry for replying so late!! i did time skip a lot hehe, i wanted us to be able to see baby taeto before the series ends! and thank you!! it took us forever to pick the name taeyang🤣

oh yeah definitely, they HAD to have one😂 it’s not like jin is the only one there with a kid, he figured that a daycare would benefit him and a lot of other employees~

AH. since im replying to this late,, you already know there’s going to be a drabble series after this 😭😭😭 so we will be seeing that!!

and as you could see from the tmbmil epilogue, none of them ended up as an only child 😐😐😭😂🤣

yes i have been attached too so i don’t want them to be gone 😭😭😭 im really bad at leaving people i have emotional attachment to, i physically cannot do it😳😳😳

it’s okay!! thank you for always giving great feedback😭😭 i know i don’t respond right away but i do read them right away and they make me so happy🥺🥺🥺

AHHH IM HONORED THANK YOU🥺🥺🥰💜

ahhh i hope so too, but as of now from what i googled, i think we’re good??? hoping nothing happens because im more comfortable here 🥸

okay!! that’s okay, yeah if i ever disappear, you can go check out my twitter 😭

[delicrieux]

Omg I loved the last one shot you wrote with the reader being in the resistance base and taking care of Kylo! I would love to see another part for it and see what will happen when the reader discovers the truth of who he is.

OMG ur one shot with kylo and him being injured i absolutely adore it and need a continuation !! ur writing is amazing too !!

thank u everyone for ur kind words and support 🥺🧡 u be asking i be giving . i mean .... prepare for some angst? yes? 8k words baby. also, same goes as always, if u want a continuation let me know ! xx

tags ( i wasnt able to tag some people!:( ): @taina-eny -- @shesakillerkween -- @leilei-draws -- @mitsuhkai -- @olivebolivee -- @fav-fan-fic -- @punxataniunderworld

requests are open! | masterlist | part 1.

Long tendrils of smoke rise slowly, spiraling into a clear, starry sky. Jet fuel ignited by a match; angry, red sparks glittering in the dark. It’s hot. Though it’s not the familiar, comforting heat of the wilderness, of the jungle you live in, nor is it the scratchy, dry heat of the deserts you grew up surrounded by. This heat is different, molding, tangible and felt deep within you. It spreads, achingly almost. Shortness of breath, of thought; the world is too quick, too fleeting for you to catch up and everything spins so wonderfully. Desire; the world is wax dripping from your fingers; red dots, red hues, bright orange flames. But that desire twists, rags your body and grows to...

Rage. It hits you in waves and you tremble. Violent shivers and horror; anger fueled by such uncontrollable passion that it goes beyond you, reaching for something, for anything to grasp onto. It destroys. It destroys everything around you. It’s a machine coming from within you; the small specter of purity now devoured by such hate directed at no one in particular that you come undone — nothing left, not even you. Just anger and power — a combination of the most terrible kind.

But this rage is not your own. It’s borrowed. Adapted to you. Fitted perfectly for your flesh, yet still a foreign entity latched onto your bones, no, this goes deeper, latched onto whatever makes you — you.

It is so easy to slip into it that it hardly registers. That raw energy within you twists and burns and you want to hurt someone because you are so hurt that you feel like you might die. One life to save yours; then, however many should follow, anything to keep that pain at bay. You don’t consider it much, you don’t have the capacity to. Blisters; it feels like you’re standing on the surface of a sun.

Where did this anger come from? Who deformed you so horribly? There’s a pull — a gentle tug that feels like a caress from a lover — that wants to turn you back; to purge the rage, the red, the dark, and bring you back into the light. But the pain stays, persistent, at home within you. It’s trying to tell you something. To make you understand. To make you feel what he feels.

And then—

You fall out of bed, breathless and terrified and soaked head to toe in cold sweat. You scramble away from your bed in blind panic, trembling and pressing your back against the icy wall of your bedroom. Your heart beats like a wild drum; your pulse is loud and violent in your ears. You raise your hands to touch your face, to grasp onto reality, to make sure that you are still you. A sigh of relief escapes you and all your energy with it. You slump, cast your head down in shame. You had never felt so... Strongly. You had felt anger, grief, passion— but never so visceral, never so raw. It terrifies you that you are even capable of feeling so, in a dream or not.

Whatever it was that had possessed you had left you feeling hollow. Numb. All your strength had been wasted in destruction of dream worlds that were, up till now, mostly pleasant. Whatever it was you don’t want it to return, ever. The pain was too much. The hate too real. And the potential of that power... Frightening beyond compare.

Your room is bathed in pleasant morning light - dawn is always beautiful and silent. You had slept for possibly only a few hours. You get up, your knees cracking from the weight of your body. Using the wall for support you decide to get ready. You will not sleep. You cannot. The carnal fear of the darkness behind your lashes is reminiscent of that of a child seeing scary shapes in the night.

You’re early to breakfast, though the cafeteria is already festering with life. You give a few waves to your colleagues, offer a few tired smiles when they chirp “Morning, Seven!”. With your tray full you stride to your table, noting that one seat is already occupied — July. He regards you with cold indifference, quietly drinking his coffee. If he is surprised to see you up so early, he does not show it.

Suddenly you hate the silence. The stiffness. The cafeteria echoes with snippets of chatter and laughs yet your table is a crypt — stale and uncomfortable. You can’t be alone with your thoughts. They still don’t feel like your own.

“Hello,” is your lame attempt at conversation. July grumbles something, chewing on his food, “decided get an early start today.” You explain yourself, not that you need to, but you feel better letting him believe this lie and yourself, too. “Taking pointers from you.” You add, taking a sip of water. It feels like a blade going down your throat. You hadn’t even noticed how parched you had been.

“Great,” July mumbles, “congratulations. You’re finally taking this seriously.”

“I’ve always taken this seriously.” You bite back, “War is no trifling matter.”

He snorts, “Could have fooled me.”

You don’t like his tone. Then again, it is your fault for engaging him in the first place. No one to blame but yourself.

In an attempt at casualness, you shrug, “You are still mad at me for not getting rid of our guest, aren’t you?” You don’t say his name. July would find it suspicious. You don’t dare share it. It was a secret passed on to you as a show of trust. You can’t break it, not even among friends.

A frown pulls on his face, cool, steel eyes locking yours, “You’re fraternizing with the enemy.”

“He is not the enemy.” You reply coolly, chest heaving with controlled frustration, “I conducted the interview. I did what we had all agreed on. I relayed the results and you were part of that discussion as well, if you had forgotten already. No threat was detected.”

“At the time.” He says hotly, setting his cup down harsher than intended. It echoes, a cracking, unpleasant sound, “There was no threat at the time.”

The wild flame in his eyes takes you aback. He had always been paranoid and it mostly never had any backing to it. But now he speaks with conviction; grits his words and laces them with honesty. He knows something. Something you don’t.

You sit up straight, swallowing down your concern before it reaches your face. “Elaborate.”

He looks away suddenly, irritated, scowling almost. Familiar tendrils of anger slither around your throat and your grit your teeth. You know better than this, better than arguing with him, better than stooping to his level of mindless shouting. It takes all of your willpower just to keep your mouth shut.

“Ah— Someone stepped out of bed on the wrong foot, as it seems.” Q’s pleasant voice chirps as they promptly plop down beside you, “Seven. July. Do hope the arguing will at least wait till lunch.”

“Fat chance!” Vendetta grins, sitting beside July and dropping her tray on the table with a silent click, “Look at them.” She snickers, “I know who’s fighting who at combat training today.”

“Perfect timing, you two.” You blur, your eyes drilling into July’s profile, not once wavering, “July just said something interesting about our guest.” The temperature, the warmth your two friends brought with them, seems to drop as their laughter abruptly cuts off, “In fact, he was almost insistent that our only patient in the Medical Wing is a threat. Know anything about it?” You finish quietly. You almost expect exasperated stares, surprised faces, hisses of “What?!” and “July, not this again...”. But nothing changes. Nothing comes. Just quiet admission. First blossoms of guilt.

You had always assumed that if your group of four would ever break into three it would be July as the odd man out. Not for any particular fault of his, but out of pure convenience. Vendetta is charismatic; Q is adaptable; you are compassionate. July is, despite his brilliance, almost deliberately difficult. The three of you fit like puzzle pieces, harmonious. You never withhold information from them, never needed to. The four of your share everything, no detail left behind.

Though it seems that your observation was paltry. They share looks and you realize that it’s no longer a quartet but rather a triad. You are left to sink or swim on your own.

“Seven, we...” Vendetta starts, thoughtful, gentle; her hand reaches for your own across the table but you pull it away and she stills, disappointed, “We...” She glances around, “We were going to tell you, but...We...”

“—Had no proof.” Q mutters bitterly, their face uncharacteristically blank, “Besides, of course, the mystery of his past, his sudden appearance, his... Unpleasant behavior.” They squeeze out the last part with a sour little smile.

“Seven, please, listen to me.” V tries to catch your attention, yet you stubbornly stare into your plate of food, “There is just...Something not right with him. It’s like this inching in my chest, I...I think I heard him...talking in his sleep again. Something about a base, but I-” At this you look up at her, and her face crumbles into a soft frown. “I would never lie to you, you must believe me. I just--“ She sighs, frustrated, “I just don’t know what, but something is wrong. I can feel it.”

“I told you not to trust him,” July states, “I said it since you—“ He points accusingly in your direction, “decided to drag him in.” He scoffs, “Should have left him to die.”

Something cracks within you. Something that sounds close to a ceramic cup shattering on linoleum. It spills over like hot liquid all over you, scalding. You pull your chair back suddenly. It’s a knee jerk reaction that halts the chatter and the laughter and the mindless bits of gossip as all eyes turn to you. You say nothing. Just stare. The unspoken “How dare you” fizzling at the tip of your tongue that now feels too big for your mouth. Your muscles cramp up; dull pain in your upper arms, your legs, your chest. You’re trembling again, eyes wide, dry, stinging.

“July.” Q hisses, “Even if we feel something amiss, he is still a person.”

You remember it clearly — the evening you met July. He wore a hard shell, scarred from life before finding the base, before finding a purpose. He was hard to approach and those who dared to glance at him withered away into the shadows. But you saw a glimmer of hope, of light; saw something in a man that has been wronged and has done wrong and now wants to devote his life to protect. He regarded you with the same cold stare, measuring you, challenging you to turn away like everyone else. But you invited him. You were the one that said that the Resistance is happy to have you. You were the one to offer him a seat by your table, Vendetta chirping and blushing and cooing once he joined. And even if he stayed silent through the conversation, you knew that he was glad to be here. Glad to find companionship. Glad to be among those who too want only one thing: to help.

Then came Q, a year later. A group that was equal amounts tough as it was tender was formed. A group of leaders. Nothing ever felt so right as to sit among them.

Now you feel like you’re drowning.

“You’ve changed.” You rasp, boring into July’s eyes. He does not back down, he never does.

“So have you.” He says evenly, “I have never seen you as irritated as I have this week. It’s affecting you. He’s affecting you.” If you did not know any better, you would say there’s a note of worry in his voice. But you always know better. It’s pity.

You decide that you hate him. You decide that you will never be able to look at him the same way, with the same distant respect, with solidarity. You hate him and you hate that he’s right. You have changed. Everyone has. You aren’t the scared, naive girl that ran away from home in hopes of finding something greater. Greater as in friendships; greater as in happiness. It was never about riches or fame or any other form of empty opulence. You wanted to help because you knew how it feels like to be helpless. And perhaps this week had been the most trying: you had been sleeping little, tossing and turning all night, staying up past dawn as to not draw any suspicion. Had been hitting harder than necessary in training. Had been less lively in conversation. You were one of the best because you needed to be in order to protect those who could not protect themselves. It was the source from which you drew your strength. But now that had shifted subtly in wanting to win. Wanting something for yourself. You always offer everything to the world, why can’t it give you something in return?

“That’s enough, July.” Q mutters calmly, their hand landing on your shoulder, a warm, comforting gesture that fills you to the brim with sadness. “You had said enough.”

You exhale a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment to collect your thoughts. Honesty had always been your policy. Honesty is the currency of your group. You are fighters, but you are also diplomats. Vulnerability is the price of compassion.

“I feel responsible.” You finally say, “For him.” You clarify, “I brought him here. I enlisted you to help and share our resources. He is my responsibility. And if you feel that he is unfit to be here, or that he threatens our values in any way, I shall make sure to deal with him accordingly and I am prepared to face the consequences of my actions should it come to it.” You finish dryly.

“He’s not your responsibility, Seven.” Vendetta mutters, “He’s ours. We’re a team. A family.” Q squeezes your shoulder, silently agreeing with her words. Her lips slowly rise into a loving smile, “And we’re worried about you. You seem tired. Let me bring him food today.” She suggests gently, “I can keep him company. That or, I know Michel is dying for a chance to talk to him.”

“You don’t have to carry this weight alone.” Q says, “A little break can’t hurt, can it?” He glances at July, “Once our heads are cooled...We’ll discuss this in detail at dinner. No stone left unturned. If the decision is unanimous, we bring it to the Commander. All in favor?”

“Aye.” Vendetta chimes. You nod stiffly. All eyes fall on July.

“You already know what I think.” He mumbles, “But very well. We meet at twilight.”

.

The day is long. Hours pass in a slow daze and exhaustion nearly crushes by the time a little over two hours is left till dinner. Dread grows and fester; it’s hard to breathe, and the humid air is constricting. You can’t help but feel how different things had been barely a week ago, and how rapidly and uncontrollably they have changed. It should be just another day in stolen paradise; just another day in the line of days before you are, as the rest, called into the main base. Finally ready. You had felt ready. Now you feel uncertain to the brink of madness. How easily your friends had turned... How easily you had been turned. But despite their concerns you fail to see any hidden evil in the man now know to you as Ben.

But perhaps that’s the point. Evil rejoices in the presence of naivety.

You feel him before you actually see him. It’s a sort of warning bell; a presence carried by the wind. You turn your head slightly, wiping away beads of sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. You’re on the porch, in the same spot you had found Ben brooding last night. His footsteps are quick and heavy and his hand latches onto your upper arm, yanking you to face him.

“Where were you?” His question is demanding and a twinge of anger burns in his hazel eyes. All thoughts rush out your head with that; you stare dumbfounded, your lips parting to speak but the words sizzle and die on the tip of your tongue. His face contorts, the prominent anger shifting to confusion, “Have they been keeping you away from me?”

An astute observation. Eerily correct.

“What? No!” You say quickly, shrugging out of his hold and crossing your arms over your chest in pretend casualness, “Just been busy today! Lot’s of shipments, new training regime, yada yada...” He traces your face carefully for a lie, but whether he catches it or not you can’t tell. “How... How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” He states coldly, irritation dripping in his tone. His brows knit into a frown and he looks away, peers into the wilderness. Pensive. Something lays heavy on his mind and all your intuition born last night evaporates. Nothing. No whispers. Not even a slither of familiarity. The connection you felt had been cut like a thread with scissors.

Is he actively pretending yesterday did not happen? The thought sounds plausible: he’s volatile and prideful, after all. “What are you doing up and about?” You inquire, matching his cool tone.

He exhales through his nose sharply, “Can you take me to the place you found me?”

You blink. He looks at you, expectant. “I...Sure.” You relent under his stare, “Yea, I... Follow me.”

Silence from his part. His lips are shut tightly as he follows after you into the maze of tall trees. Birdsong; buzz of insects; dangerous hums and hisses from creatures hidden in the bushes. The sun is merely a kaleidoscope of shapes seeping through the branches and leaves. The heat intensifies. You feel a prickling in your spine -- he’s watching you intently. His guard is up and so is yours. After everything you had heard today confusion is the only palpable emotion you can name. Can he see it, you wonder. Can he tell that the tension in your shoulders is because of him. You trust him, at the very least, you thought you did. But now he’s luring you into seclusion.

Or are you luring him? You could have said no. Or you could have agreed and went to fetch your blaster just in case. But you didn’t. Obeyed blindly without question. He is not the authority here, you are. 

“That woman brought me breakfast today.” He says coldly. You tilt your head to him, inclining him to continue. That woman. Vendetta.He doesn’t continue. It’s almost like he’s complaining. 

“Yes, I asked her to.” You say softly, “I told you already I was busy.”

“You didn’t look busy.” He counters hotly.

“Ben.” You say sternly, stopping, turning to him fully to catch his gaze. He’s so much taller than you that it’s difficult to not be intimidated, “My world does not revolve around you.” He gulps at your words, glaring, “And her name is Vendetta. The least you could do is remember that.” 

You continue the trek forward. He’s silent, moody. You focus on not tripping on roots and stray branches; focus on keeping your balance once passing through small slivers of ground between sudden drops to the caves bellow. 

Finally, a clearing. Water flows and twists like a serpent, glimmering in sunlight, splashing joyously. The river is long and wide and there is no bridge connecting the two sides, just piles of slippery stones. It’s a challenge getting past it, yet you did so almost every other day. The beauty of untamed nature cannot be compared to anything, and getting lost in it is liberating.

You hop on the first rock, then the second. The water is loud; the current is strong and it splashes your feet.

“Are you angry with me?” He asks silently. You jump and feel the knot in your throat tighten. You wobble and your arms stretch wide to keep balance and you promptly still.

“No, Ben, I’m not angry.” You admit, a bit breathless, but don’t elaborate any further. You are not sure if you’re telling the truth or not. You don’t want to think about it.

“Did you really find me so far out?” He continues questioning.

“Yes.” You mumble, “Why? Do you think I’m lying to you?”

“I never said that.”

“But you thought about it.”

“Oh, so you can read my mind now?”

“It’s not that difficult to tell what you’re thinking, you know.” You state sharply.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You still. A flare of anger rises from your chest to your throat and it take everything you have to control the frustrated sigh from escaping. Your hands ball into fists. Sweat drips from your forehead. With a dry mouth you turn to him, careful of your footing, finding him closer than you expected and just as irritated as you. His brows are kit into a frown, lips turned downward, chest heaving. A soft breeze kisses your heating cheeks, your shoulders, ruffles his dark hair.

“Exactly what you think it means,” You snap, “you’re always angry, always displeased, ordering everyone around, assaulting” You stress the word, “ or berating if something doesn’t go your way. Being secretive and malicious and just when I think I’m starting to understand you, you demand and demand and I literally can’t say anything or else you’ll be upset and then who knows what you’ll do.” You rant, “And all I wanted, all we wanted, was to help you. But you-” You jab your finger into his chest; an action eerily similar to what July did to you this morning, “-you treat us like we’re your servants. Can’t even bother to remember the name of the doctor that had been taking care of you all week. We could’ve left you to die.”

He grabs your wrist, squeezing tightly, pulling it away from his chest, “I never asked for your help.” He growls.

“But you got it anyway,” You retort, voice dripping with venom, “though I suppose you’re too arrogant to even say thank you. You spoiled, selfish, inconsiderate prick-”

“You don’t know me.” He seethes.

“I know everything I need to know about you.” 

He falters for a second, something akin to disappointment flashing in his eyes but it’s gone before you can name it, “You do?” He sounds smug, in a cold, displeased way, “Ah, you do.” His grip loosens and you yank your wrist from his hold, fire raging in your chest. What a condescending look.

You’re so heated that you feel like you might cry. Now you see what July, what Q, what Vendetta see when they look at him - a malevolent, resentful asshole. How could he have fooled you? Was it the pretty eyes and the confused puppy-like stare? His sharp handsome features? Low voice, pleasant when whispered? All a font. You feel ill. Tarnished in some subtle but irreversible way. You don’t want to take him anywhere, you just want him to leave. A part of you wants to run away and leave him stranded, or push him into the water and watch satisfied as the current carried him away.

You genuinely believed you had formed some sort of a connection, as silly as that sounds. You hadn’t known him for long, but what you felt was real and it was special. But this is not the same man that did not let go of your hand, that did not want to left alone in the rain. 

You shake your head, “You make me sick.”

He has no reply to that. He looks away, almost ashamed, and you turn back to the stones you stand on, the slippery rock unstable under your feet. The sky lights up with first shades of pink. Twilight is approaching. 

The sooner you take him there and back the sooner you can request him to be escorted out of the premises, taken where he needs to go. And then this will all be over. He will be nothing but an unpleasant memory. The thought does not make you feel any better, rather it makes you feel hollow, like a balloon, acutely aware of the emptiness within you.

You continue forward in ill-tempered steps. You just want this to be over. His presence clings to you like second skin. Electricity at your fingertips, coursing through your veins, settling in your bones. You cannot shake it, cannot shake the hurt and the discomfort and-

You slip. For a heartbeat there’s only looming dread but before you can touch the water strong arms envelope you and keep you in place. You feel him breathing behind you, his chest rising and hitting your back. He sets you down back on the rocks, letting go only after you’re out of harms way. His arms drop and the heat with them. Wordless, you continue forward, not sparing him the satisfaction of a thank you.

.

You suppose wishing for an uneventful journey is unrealistic; trekking through the dense, suffocating undergrowth, fighting through the heavy, still air, all the while a million wild souls observe and track you and wonder are you here to hunt or be hunted. The colors, deep evergreen and rich brown, mute once the sun is is orange and halfway down. Not far now, not far at all. That idea was the only thing keeping you from crumbling into the dirt. But today is not your day, nor his. Everything always happens for a reason, even if that reason is simply bad luck.

You had been lost in your head, and he lost in the maze of looming trees. He’s unfamiliar with the territory - you were his guiding star, ushering him to where he needs to go. But you were too absorbed; too preoccupied with your blossoming hurt, with the near obsessive need to feel it whole so you could never forgive him and not feel an ounce of it once he goes back to his damned life outside your base. But the jungle is an obstacle course that demands attention and worship. Each step careful, each parting of leaves intentional and gentle. It either allows you to advance, or it does not.

You have no one to blame but yourself. No one to curse at for the forming bruises and muddy skin. No one to yell at for the stabbing pain at your rib cage, and no one to shun because of one fatal mistake. A misstep. A confusion of left and right. The fall was instant and painful and long. 

Birds gawk and spill into the violet sky like ink. You lay in the dirt, your body aching with each intake of breath. Water roars; small droplets from the waterfall sprinkle on you and you wonder just how far down had you fallen. The clearing is unfamiliar to you, but right now everything is. Ben groans beside you; you see him sit up slowly out of the corner of your eye. He pushes his hair out of his face and exhales. You can’t move. You forgot how to.

You feel cold. Something hot and sticky runs down the side of your temple, pulsing down your jaw.

“...Seven?” His voice is rough and rushed and he instantly falls by your side, his hands cradling your face, “Hey. Seven, can you hear me...?”

You remember the leaf covered ground giving out; remember falling into darkness and hitting your back harshly on the steep decline and skidding through sharp rocks and branches; remember suddenly being plunged into icy water and spat out into the air before tumbling to the ground and smacking your head into something hard and blurry.

His fingers gently wipe away the dirt from your face, “Hey, you with me...?” He calls gently, his voice silent, seeping with worry. Through your haze and confusion your find his eyes - such a pretty hazel, now darker in the shade - and manage to squeeze out a painful, crooked smile.

“...Hi.” You whisper, almost voiceless. He cracks a smile, but his lower lip quivers.

“Hi.” He mutters, “Are you okay? Can you sit?”

You try to move but it proves to be too difficult. Noticing your struggle and sluggish movements, he gently eases you into a sitting position, his hold strong but not forceful, not even an echo to what it had been on the rocks. Your head spins, too heavy, buzzing. You gingerly lay it on his shoulder. Water laps by your feet. You are dripping from head to toe. The breeze makes you shiver, and he carefully wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, his fingers pushing strands of wet hair from your face.

“Do you know where we are...?”

“The jungle.”

You somehow sense he doesn’t appreciate your sarcasm.

“You’re hurt.” He laments. Weakly, you clasp onto his arm and slowly pull away from his shoulder. You’re so close your noses brush. You can feel his breath ghosting over your lips. You see worry in his eyes. You feel a twinge of life light up in your chest.

“I’m okay.” You mutter, even if it is obvious that you are not. 

“I’m sorry...” He utters, his eyes, half-lit and tender, pouring into your soul. His fingers brush your cheek, trembling lightly, lastly settling on the side of your jaw, “I’m sorry,” He repeats in a breath, “This is all my fault.”

Your heart spurs to life; the same pleasant buzz of energy flows back into you in forms of butterflies. The aching relents, the sharp pain in your side easing as if soothed by a cold touch. Your hazy vision sharpens and for a moment you can see everything in its minute detail, before all goes back to normal. The pulsing in your head stops, blood drying by your temple. You blink a few times, your brows knitting into a frown, lips parting to intake a slow breath. Your hand reaches to graze his cheek.

It’s back. What ever this fragile, beautiful thing is, it has returned to you.

“Who...are you?”

Vendetta had been right, there is something different about him, but perhaps not in the way she had intended.

“I’m Ben.” He says softly, “Just Ben.”

“No...” You observe him, “You are not.”

You feel a pull in your chest, as if you were a moon beckoned by his gravity, “How do you do it?” You ask, not quite certain what you’re referring to. A thousand questions swim in your mind and you shut your eyes, trying to focus on just one. But he still pulls you in, somehow, and gently you rest your forehead on his, each simple touch sparking a feeling of this is right and this is how it should be. Like a current of a river taking you where you need to be.

“I’m not doing anything.” He admits softly against your lips with an ache in the back of his throat.

Your eyes pry open, “Liar.” is all you say with quiet disappointment.

You untangle yourself from him and rise onto your feet, swaying a bit and he hurriedly jumps to aid you but you hold out your hand to stop him. His arms fall by his sides. The roar of the water momentarily absorbs you completely. It’s dark glimmer makes your stomach drop. You look up. The sky is already budding with stars, the last light dying by the horizon.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to return to the base now.” You mutter, a shiver crawling down your spine. Your wet clothes cling to your skin, leaving no bend and curve obscured to his watchful eye. But it doesn’t bother you, at least not as much as it should, “Before we lose light completely.”

He nods solemnly. “Why did you want to see where I found you?” You ask, knowing he will not deny you an answer. It’s that feeling, that connection, open communication that leaves him vulnerable to your prodding.

He glances away from your prying stare, his jaw locked tight. Your chest swells as you regard him — a picture of divine loneliness. You almost fall pray to it, to those whispers, to those instincts that urge you to rush to his side and comfort him. He sighs heavily, his shoulders falling. “I wanted to see if you would go with me.”

“What?” You sputter, eyes wide in disbelief, “Why?”

“Because I want you to join me.” He seems to find his voice, the first uncertain notes glossing over with purpose, “To leave with me.” The corner of his lips quirk into a half-smile, “Have you ever seen the snow?”

“No...” You admit, taking a step back, “No, I haven’t. The Rebels need me. I don’t want to leave.” You finish quietly, crossing your arms over your chest. It’s more of a comforting motion rather than a defensive one.

“But you agreed to go with me today.” He says.

“Because you asked.” You counter.

“Then I’m asking again.” He extends his hand in an offering, “Come with me.”

You stare at it, your instincts urging you to take it. But you don’t know what entails going with him; you don’t know about his life and what sort of deal you would be signing by lacing your fingers with his. A part of you wants to agree — the part which you desperately try to explain, but cannot — and the other reminds you of duty. Of your mission. It reminds you of everything you will be unable to do if you take it.

.

He watches you, half worried and half irked as you stare at his hand with distant eyes. He can’t read your mind, can’t hear snippets of your brooding thoughts, but he knows you’re considering his offer, and he knows that this is all a charade which will end in his victory. He knows you will accept — it is now impossible for you two to be apart, the consequences of that severe enough to burn out a star.

But you’re guarded. Your mind sits behind a wall that can’t tear down — he’s not close enough, and you won’t let him. It is most likely an unconscious effort, a shield of some sort that your untamed energy had built in order to protect you from the likes of him. He likes that. He always enjoyed a challenge: everyone always danced around him and to find someone actually worthy of his attention is a rare sight on its own. That being said, he could invade your mind, could hurt you, could force you to spill all of your secrets in one breath. But he won’t. He wants you to come to him by your own volition. He wants you to allow him into your mind because you want him to see and feel and hear everything that’s hidden behind those pretty eyes and tender smile. Therefore he will not be forceful or rough; instead he will open your eyes - sway you, offer you something for your kindness, because he cannot fathom the fact that some things in life have no price. But he knows that you will join him - sooner or later matters little in the grand scheme of things.

Though, it is his fault he is so terribly impatient.

It’s frustrating to think that the Force would connect him to you out of everyone in the universe. That must be why he’s feeling this tightness in his chest, this, if he wasn’t so prideful to admit it, fear festering inside him — you’re a member of the Resistance that is not only Force sensitive, but also now linked to him. If the Rebels should become aware of this sensitive information, there is no telling what they would do. In the First Order you would be hailed like royalty; showered with praise and opulence and given authority to do as you please, given the life so many in your base believe he has. But the Resistance would not be as kind, if they would be kind at all - they would use you, abuse you, transform you into a weapon or a helpless little lure. Because they would know he would come looking for you. He is now destined to always look for you; destined to follow you across the galaxy and back if it meant you standing by his side in the final battle. They would change you into something unrecognizable. The safest side is his, and his shadow is the only place you’d find solace. He could train you. Protect you. Allow you to harvest the power that is capable of so many beautiful, terrible things.

He knew you were Force sensitive when he first laid eyes on you — the silence was confusing and heavenly and at the same time oddly irritating. Everyone else was an open book full with loud, useless mussing, overloaded with trifling information of which the only value he found was the exact coordinates of your base. He could return any time he wished and destroy everything in a slow, arduous way that would break you down and rebuild you, make you see that he is doing you a favor if you were so stubborn that it would come to that: you had saved his life, and now he is trying to save yours. And despite your proclamation that you can tell what he’s thinking, he finds great difficulty understanding you. Kindness is alien to him. Kindness had been ripped out of him by betrayal and replaced by hate. It is the only real emotion, and the only source of his strength. If only he could tear you away from those people you call friends, then you could finally understand. 

But knowing you had the Force dormant within you wasn’t enough, he needed to test you, needed to know just how far your powers went.

He didn’t expect it. To be connected. It wasn’t until you touched hands did he feel your happiness as his own.

Though it’s unstable, your connection. Wild emotions sometimes ebb and flow and pass one person to the other. And he, too, in moments of surprised vulnerability forgot to keep himself tempered and in control. His anger, hatred, all things wretched and deformed have slipped into your dreams and your day to day life. A part of him, now permanently a part of you. It felt like he finally found something he had been unknowingly searching for — a missing piece of him that has returned to make him whole. Without you, he would feel like carved bark, a half-finished project incapable of reaching its full potential. To let you go is not an option anymore. 

Stronger together, he reminds himself in a scolding tone. He is not supposed to care about you, rather of what’s in you — raw, untamed power, a well of untapped potential. You are his half, and he is yours. You are connected by the Force, and there is nothing else to it. Cannot be anything else. 

The human shell is hardly his point of interest.

.

“No,” You say, taking a small step back from him, from his offer, from the temptation, and casting your gaze down into the gleaming water, “no, I can’t go with you. I have to stay here.”

You don’t dare to look at him and see just what expression he is wearing, though you guess he’s not too happy by your rejection. You cheeks heat uncomfortably - his gesture was noble yet crafted so carefully that you suspect an ulterior motive behind it. You can’t throw your life away, not before you understand what’s actually going on between you. You clear your throat awkwardly, sparing a blank look at the swaying trees and trying to think of the best route to return home, “Come on.” You utter, “We shouldn’t be standing around here. Not safe.” You add silently.

Though you can’t help yourself. You spare a glance at him and freeze up -- it looks like you slapped him, his eyes wide with hurt and pale face blotching red. He slowly retracts his hand, his motion stiff and mechanic as if he does not know what to do with it if he’s not holding yours. It feels cold again, and you are fairly certain it has nothing to do with the lukewarm water dripping from your clothes.

Snow. You see it in quick flashes -- a white, hazy storm -- that fulls you to the brim with dread. What was it that Vendetta had said? A base somewhere existing in his memories, a place he will return to, a place where he wants to take you. A palace hidden in the snow.

July, in all his brutality, was right: you had been fraternizing with the enemy. Ilum, the planet of frost and snow and home to the Starkiller Base of the First Order. And someone from that same Order had offered you to come with.

It’s a different kind of pain -- you’d prefer the headaches after a day of mental gymnastics, the dull pain of muscles after training, the sharp stabs of a sprained ankle, the pulses and red flashes of an open wound. Anything would be better than this winter in your soul. You feel tired, in an incurable, empty way. As if you lost a half of something integral that you will never have again. Love can bloom only so much before it withers.

You turn away from him and approach the trees, not entirely certain if he’s following you or not. You feel like you’re a cloud in the sky, heavy with rain and thunder but unable to release it. The capacity for that had been robbed from you. He, you realize, is the first person in the line of people that you won’t be able to save. He’s going where you can’t follow. He’s another chess piece on the board that is this war - and one day you will face him among blood and slaughter. 

It is hard to believe that mere minutes ago he had been cotton on your fingers, almost destroyed by longing he can’t explain. 

Ben...To you the name is now forever cursed.

.

It is night when you return to your room, leaving a trail of muddy footprints behind you on the alabaster floor. You collapse onto your bed, your head heavy thoughts, each more confusing and cumbersome than the last. Your agreed meeting at twilight was completely forgotten after the tumble. Somewhere half-way through the jungle you recalled that your friends might be missing you.

The door to your room slides open and you look up - Q. They watch you for a silent moment, assessing the damage: messy hair, dirtied linen clothes, blood dried on your cheek, tired, deep eyes that face the world without truly seeing anything. They clear their throat, giving you a smile, “When we noticed your absence and the absence of our esteemed guest,” They start, their voice even, diplomatic, perfectly neutral, “it is suffice to say we were frightened that you had been lured to a trap. Fallen to an early grave.” They approach you easily, taking a seat beside you and landing a hand on your knee, “Though, fall you certainly did from what I can tell.” They finish with a note of amusement.

It takes you a moment to find your voice, “He wanted to see the place where I found him and we got lost.” You explain, sparing the details. They accept your answer, even if it’s full of holes. “Did the meeting commence?”

“After we unanimously decided that you aren’t stupid enough to get yourself killed.” They huffed, “V was especially eager to send out a search party. I must admit that I was, too, swayed by the idea. July, however, as always, shot us down. Had more faith in you than us. For that, I apologize.” They pause, pensive, “But you care little for that, I suppose. You want to know what we decided.”

“Yes.”

“Your vote still counts, Seven. And if you want, we can call a-”

“No.” You cut them off sadly, “No, I agree with your decision, whatever that decision might be.”

“Then first thing tomorrow morning he will be taken to the nearest station,” They say softly, “and released from our care.”

You think you could feel sorrow if you were not so exhausted - right now the only thing you want is to shut your eyes and forget the world exists entirely. You nod stiffly, replaying the dream you had this morning. Flames like hands grasping for the sky, chaos and wind and blood -- but the smoke dies down eventually, and now you stand in the aftermath. There is nothing left, just ash.

They tap your knee once for good measure and stand up, sparing you a rueful glance.

“I may not know exactly what your, ah...situation is, per se,” Q utters, “but know that if you ever wish to share it, you can come to me. Or any of us. Even July. He may be tough, but he still cares about you. In the only way he knows how.” They stand there for a beat, waiting for you to say something, anything really, but you don’t. “Goodnight, Seven.” 

Q leaves and the door shuts and you wonder if today had been real or a factitious, terrible nightmare. Perhaps you never woke up, perhaps you are still sleeping restlessly, trapped, unable to open your eyes and look at the sun with a smile while saying, “It was just a dream.”. The pain had passed leaving nothing behind. The night is dark and endless and the bleak light of your bedroom illuminates your surroundings without an ounce of warmth. Still silence, suffocating air. This blanket of loneliness lays heavy on your shoulders before it all piles and piles and--

You, laying in bed, shivering, tears crawling down your cheeks and lips red from biting, and Ben, in the Medical Wing, heaving, watching the broken glass bottles glimmering on the floor, supplies smashed, sheets thrown about haphazardly in sudden rage, feel the same scorch of heartbreak.  

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hope you liked it!

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[doodles-arts]

You’re not that fast

Pairing: Raphael x reader

Rating?: pg

warnings?: All good here.

word count: 2696

Summary: A scenario where mutants know they’ve found their soulmate when they’re powers or special abilities don’t work on the other soul. How will Raph react to a soulmate, when he first meets her?

A/n: Just realized one of my fav turtles is Raphael and I don’t have a single Fan fic of him! How weird ! well any way, hope you all enjoy and don’t be afriad to reblog

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You ran all around town until you were tired enough to go to bed. A battle cry on a rooftop made you investigate. Speeding over and checking all of the rooftops nearby in under 30 seconds. When you arrived by the rooftop that gave you full access to the fight that resulted in the shout that caught your attention. As you watched, you couldn’t help but want to help. But how would you be able to tell who was the bad guy?

As you watched, you debated in your head which were the good guys and who were the good guys? A debate started in your head.

‘Well, the woman is controlling all of the robot ninjas.’

“Usually controlling is a bad trait…’

‘But she does smile kinda evil like…’

‘Doesn’t exactly mean that she’s the bad guy.’

‘The four mutant turtles- by the way, I’ve seen a lot of weird things but that’s new- were destroying the robots. That doesn’t mean that they are evil.’

‘The woman is wearing silver, all black with black makeup. Evil?’

Just as one of the turtles attacked the silver wearing lady, pretty quickly might you add, she swiped his katana away and before he could pull out his other one, she held him in a chokehold. As she held him, what she said next was a clear indication, she was the bad guy.

‘Bummer’

‘She’s gonna kill him, we’ve gotta do something!’

‘Pretty cool how fast she did that’

“Now I can finally kill you one. By. One. Starting with you Leonardo.” As she pressed her blade into his neck, ‘guess that’s my cue!’ You rushed over and jumped over the rooftop, stealing the blade and running off. They all looked around for you, too fast to have seen you come by and leave. You threw it down a dumpster chute and ran back to watch from a distance.

Except for Raph of course, he saw you take the blade and runoff, but when he tried to move, everything was slowed down, and couldn’t move at normal speed. He couldn’t comprehend what just happened. But he saw you leave and the direction you left towards too, He watched you run across the rooftop and jump to the one he was on and send a sucker punch to Karai’s face. He still could not move at normal speed, however, and watched as you run behind her and kicked her from behind, causing her to let go and Leo. As you ran behind him and his brothers, his body was back to speed and he and his brothers rushed forward to grab Leo and attack Karai away from him.

As she retreated instead of fighting back, she growled and jumped off the ledge of the building, they ran over and watched as a half-broken robot grabbed her and swung her away and followed as they ran deeper into the cities rooftop. “What the hell was that…”, the boys looked at each other. Raph cleared his throat while staring at you. You waved sheepishly and walked forward slowly to them. Not showing them your powers just. What caught you off guard was what the turtle with the red bandana had said, “how’d you do that, stranger?” You looked around you, wondering how he knew it was you. “Yes. You.” You cleared your throat, unsure of what the hell was happening. No one ever saw you when you were that fast, how was he able to?

“How did you see me?” He rose an eyebrow at you and looked you up and down, “what are you talking about.”

You huffed and explained, “You saw me when I was- well, I was fast, no one ever sees me, unless I want them to see me.” You flashed over towards him, stopping right in front of him. He was unphased like he had seen you, you were sure you had used your powers because his brothers had flinched backward when you had appeared in front of him. This close up him made you taken into consideration the color of his eyes, they were green on reflective…

You flashed backgrounds, back to where you were before he saw you. “I’m supposed to be extremely fast, I can see and feel things differently. No one ever sees me coming, like your little friend from before.” He crossed his arms and smirked at you, “You’re not that fast then, I can see everything you do, but everything turns slow.” You huffed at his first remark, about to prove him wrong before it hit you.

He could see past your power, see past your greatest defense. Could this mean…?

You flashed back towards him, causing the brother in orange to “please, at least warn us!”, a force of habit- and flashed your hand across your face John Cena style and every time that it crossed your face you made a different funny looking one. His teasing laugh after proved that he was the one. After he wiped a tear from his face you placed a gentle hand on his face, looking at him as he studied you.

“Ah.. are we supposed to know what’s going on?...” Donnie commented from the side and broke your spell. Raph took a step backward, showing his straight face again and growled, “don’t start getting any ideas weirdo.” He started walking away, “let’s go guys,” he didn’t want to admit it, but there was something comforting about you. He couldn’t even bring himself to slap your hand away from his face when you had laid it there. He wanted to feel angry, wanted to fight you, to try and feel better about your teasing, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. As his brothers followed, about to head home, you yelled something he wished wouldn’t be true.

“Can’t help it, you know what I’m talking about.” As you sped towards him you added in his ear, “I’ll be seeing you again soon, soulmate.” You had left quick enough that his brothers weren’t able to see you leave. He wished you were playing a cruel joke, just trying to poke fun and he’d never see you again. Don’t get him wrong, he was thankful you had saved Leo, but did it really mean that he had met his soulmate and have to spend the rest of his life with one person like a lost puppy?

~~~ a few weeks later~~

As he and his brothers patrolled the city they decided to briefly separate to give a last look around before heading home together. Raph looked around his designated part of New York, briefly watching for any danger before moving on. He had a pretty uneventful night. As he watched the city over a different post, something in him slowed and then he saw you from the corner of his eye. Shit.

When time returned to normal, he sat down on a ledge and decided to face everything he had been avoiding for the last couple of weeks.

‘Finally, he’s not running.’

‘He’s just scared’

‘He’s just a wuss’

“Shut up already!” you whispered to yourself before you walked over to him.

“Ya’ know, ever since I was little, everything has been so slow. Everyone around me was too slow to see what I could do are keep up.” He felt you as you sat beside him. “Maybe having someone who can see what I do even when I’m using my superspeed is a good thing. That way, someone else can feel what I mean when I try to explain I feel slow when I’m doing things at a normal speed.” You sighed before continuing, “people don’t usually understand me, but maybe you can?...”

He looked over at you, watching as your eyes looked over the city. Your flawless skin reflected against the lights of the city and your plump lips made him look away. He couldn’t help this feeling that took over him whenever you were near. He barely knew you! This was creepy! “I won’t lie, it’s seriously annoying when everything gets slow because you’re stalking me and my brothers-” you chuckled sheepishly, “- but all that talk about, no one understands you, I can hear where you’re coming from. I and my brothers are different and humans, no offense, are insensitive. They fear what they don’t understand.”

You laid a hand on his shoulder, knowing that his woes were far worse than yours. He might be your soulmate, but you still had to get to know him. He deserved your attention. “I know this whole soulmate thing might be a little strange to you, but when I say I can’t help this feeling I have for you I mean it. I can’t help but want to be there for you and when I’m apart from you, I feel like I’ve lost something.” You starred at him, trying your best to ease him into this world where the soulmates existed and loved each other.

You know that he was struggling trying to accept this new feeling, you didn’t know much about him, but as he commented, you did notice a few things about him while stalking him and his brothers. Raphael, that was his full name, he had a short-tempered and had a hard time giving up to others. ‘I am also very competitive, so totally understandable’ He was very protective and loyal, but had testosterone to spare. It was cute though.

“You don’t have to be afraid, a soulmate just means I will be beside you for whatever you need. We don’t have to do anything your not comfortable with. I just want us to get to know each other…”

‘And maybe get a kiss…’

‘Hey! Give the poor boy a break’

‘Yeah, yeah….’

He looked over at you, uneasy, confused. And he was, god this was all so weird. He didn’t want to believe it the first time you said it, or when he confided in Donnie and the genius also agreed, that is was true. After some research, Donnie had found that, usually for mutants who came from half mutant and half-human families, it was a genetic mutation to promote more reproduction, or whatever Donnie mentioned, to have a soul mate. He honestly felt pulled by your beauty, like he was dying to have you close. He felt suffocated. He didn’t want this if it was going to be like this all the time. “Does it always feel like this,” looking down at his hand clenching and shaking towards you.

“Not always, it’s like a puppy phase of a relationship, your body is just getting used to it. At least that’s what my parents told me.” You felt out of it as he stayed quiet and looked away from you.

When he finally spoke, he had your full attention, “I barely know you.” You smiled and laid a hand over his own. “Neither do I. But I’d be honored to get too.” You sat a little closer and waited until he felt a little better.

“My name is (y/n), my mom was a mutant that could read people’s emotions, my dad was a human, she fell for him when she read that his love for her was pure and real. They got married and had me. I lost them, not too long ago, and came to live here with my uncle, on my mom’s side. You have no idea how much we have in common. Ever since then, I’ve just been trying my best to live life to the fullest. At least that what my parents always told me. I get into all kinds of trouble, but I never get caught, so it’s not that bad. And a few weeks ago I met you… I don’t have much to hide, but I promise I won’t hide anything for you.”

He looked over to you once again, feeling a little grateful to your understanding and optimism, and leaned forward, streching for a hug. Before you could hold back and slowly hug back, your powers kicked in and you hugged back in the fraction of a second. It almost knocked the wind out of him- in slow motion- and you pulled back, an apology already in tow.

“It’s hard controlling it sometimes, everything is so slow all the time, so sometimes when I get anxious because of it, my powers try to relieve that by making me do things faster and sometimes I hurt people because of it,” he smirked, the feeling yelling at him to pull you back in. He held out another hand out to you, “then let’s try again until you get it right, then,” you breathed in and slowly reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck gently.

‘Awww, he’s a sweet one!’

‘And a bad boy’

‘He can’t be that bad… and if he is, how bad can it be?’

His scaly skin felt like it was wrapped in silk when you hugged him, your careful and soft fingers were warm against the back of his neck. His heartbeat was pounding, the smell of you would be a scent he’d never forget. As he hugged you- nothing felt impossible, no one could hurt him emotionally, he’d always have someone to rely on. He didn’t feel alone, and how bad could that be? Because it felt like a dream. Maybe he had overthought this, maybe it wasn’t controlling, maybe it really was faith playing cupid. You didn’t hold him possessively, you held him because he was holding you because you wanted him to hold him. Perhaps this could work, letting his feelings and instincts take over, he felt at home.

He pulled away from your embrace, and for once, everything felt at normal speed. As he looked at you and slowly placed a three-fingered hand under your chin, it didn’t feel as slow as molasses. It was slow but bearable. As he looked at you and you starred at those emerald green eyes, they encaptivated you,

‘Talk about handsome~’

‘No kidding~ *swoon*’

The glimmer in them was making you swoon, god, you never felt this way about anybody. As his eyes closed so did yours. Leaning forward to feel his rough lips against your luscious ones. You took charge in the kiss, however, you needed to feel more of him. As your lips smashed against each other, he quickly caught pace. Following your footsteps and loving every single second of it. The smirk against the kiss made your stomach flutter, you licked at his bottom lip, meekly asking to take it a step further. He let you in, so you could teach him. His wide tongue was slow, exploring what was new.

He was slow with this new kissing stuff, trying to figure out what you liked and what was weird, and so far it seemed to be going well. You were holding his plastron at this point and the leg you had tucked underneath yourself was pushing you up, to have better leverage during the kiss. It made him smirk, it felt better when he was pleasing you. When you felt good, he knew you were holding back and it made his heart feel a certain type of way.

As you both pulled away for the much-needed air you hid your face in the crook of his neck, and the breath you wafted on him from your loss of air had him feeling a buzz. God, you were doing things to him and it wasn’t just the dumb connection from the soulmate thing. “You aren’t so fast…” he teased.

You pulled away to raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t test me Raph, I like it better when you’re quiet.” He gave you a toothy smile and you felt your stomach’s spring stretch. As you leaned back in.

‘Let’s do it again!’

‘Yeah, that way we can teach him how fast we really are~’

[lemonsandstrawberries]

A Birthday Surprise

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

summary: On his birthday, Steve keeps wakening up because Tony leaves the bed unusually early and it unfurls a whole array of odd events.

length: 1 577

a/n:  Happy Birthday, Steve and Happy and safe 4th of July to those of you who celebrate it! For this occasion, I bring you some domestic Stony fluff, which is my fav kind of fluff. if you enjoyed the fic, asks, reblogs and likes are needed and appreciated!

——————–

A Birthday Surprise

On his birthday, Steve had woken up exactly four times before leaving the bed. Which was rather unusual as on most of the days, he had a very regular sleeping pattern, but was a light sleeper, schooled to react to every sound, a skill he had acquired during his years as a soldier and which continued as an Avenger.

The first time he had opened his eyes was a few minutes after 4 am, so almost an hour earlier before his usual wake up time. It was a very subtle sound that woke him up and light movement following, covers pulling away from him, before held back, kept in place on purpose.

It wasn't like Tony to be a considerate sleeping partner - Tony could flop all over the place, kick the covers down or pull them to himself and wrap with the material, creating a cocoon. Other times, he tended to crash into Steve, rolling into his sleeping body with force and holding, looking for his husband's sleeping form and being a clingy octopus. Even if that usually woke Steve up, it was comforting and Steve quickly fell back to sleep, lulled by the sound of Tony's breathing and his warmth, unlike on those nights when Tony wrapped himself in the covers, and Steve had to wrestle some material from underneath him. So, even if Steve woke up, he decided to not give it away, because Tony clearly didn't want to disturb him. Tony tried to be all sneaky and quiet, slowly moving to the side of the bed, almost sliding, trying to evenly distribute his weight and not let the mattress dipping give him away. It would be a success, if not for the final part, when, probably he stepped on something on the floor, most probably the socks he had carelessly thrown to the floor the evening earlier, and spectacularly slipped and tumbled down the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud and a bit back curse. Still, Steve didn't react, and Tony did neither, just staying still and out of Steve's line of sight. The moment continued, and Steve felt alarmed, thinking that Tony wasn't a klutz, but he had a history of unfortunate accidents while not fully rested, and Steve feared that maybe his husbands slipped so badly he somehow managed to bang his head, but before that thought could fully form, there was Tony's head popping up over the edge of the bed and very, very slowly, Tony stood up, taking his night robe and quietly tiptoed out of the bedroom.

Steve pulled his eyebrows together, thinking that it all was a bit odd because taking the night robe meant that Tony wasn't sneaking off to his workshop, he didn't go to the adjoined bathroom either and leaving the bed seemed a bit random.

"Eh," Steve shrugged it off and yawned, closing his eyes back to sleep, thinking that he didn't marry Tony for being an organized person, and his husband did have some adorable quirky qualities that made him more lovable.

The second time Steve woke up was not so long after the first time, maybe around 30 minutes later from the first one, and was much more abrupt. Steve smelled smoke. He sat up on the bed straight away, eyes darting around and trying to spot the flickering flame, his mind racing to get to Tony and get him out and alarm the other Avengers.

"Captain."

Steve's tensed shoulders jumped when Friday addressed him. Oh right. He was living in a highly technological building, if there would be a fire, Friday was the first to know and could activate the complicated line of sprinklers. False alarm.

"Friday, what's going on?" Steve rubbed his eyes, feeling a bit dizzy from the sudden wake up.

Friday didn't answer for a while, clearly hesitating.

"Nothing."

"Friday," Steve said in a firmer voice, hearing that 'nothing' from Tony too many times when it clearly was 'something'. Like father, like daughter.

"You can trust me on this one. Everything is fine."

"I should still check on Tony - "

"Tony is fine. You can go back to sleep."

Steve huffed a laugh, feeling that it was pointless to argue with the AI. And Friday had an eye on every corner of the Tower, so she certainly knew what she was doing. Even more, it seemed like she was covering for Tony... And if Tony was doing something truly dangerous, Steve trusted Friday to let him know. So, considering it all, it couldn't be that serious.

"Alright," Steve agreed, lying back in bed and pulling the covers to himself. "Just watch Tony for me, okay?"

"Always."

Hearing the reassurance, Steve drifted back to sleep.

The third time Steve woke up was at 5:10 am, his usual wakening up hour. He was still alone in the bed and sat up, not feeling exactly rested, the last two wake ups leaving a toll on him, but it was time to start his day -

"Steve."

"Yes, Friday?" Steve asked, luckily not smelling any more smoke, but having a feeling that he might not like what he would hear next.

"You should go back to sleep."

Ah. Not so bad. Just puzzling.

"Why?" Steve asked.

Another moment of silence.

"Just... Go back to sleep. He needs more time."

"Who, Tony?"

Friday didn't answer. Steve let out a long breath, trying not to think too much about it. He trusted Friday. He trusted Tony. He didn't like that Friday was so secretive and that Tony had sneaked away, but it couldn't be anything too horrible.

"Is Tony alright?" Steve asked, just needing to be sure.

"Yes, he is fine."

"Hm," Steve made a disapproving sound, feeling that Friday was withholding some information from him. But he did miss some sleep and didn't have anything urgent scheduled in the morning, so...

"Good night, Friday," Steve lay back in bed, pulling the covers to himself.

"Good night," Friday replied, sounding relieved.

The fourth and final time when Steve woke up was after 6 am, when it finally became orangish outside from the slowly rising sun. It was the most pleasant of all four times, and he woke up to a sweet smell and a warm baritone singing a song.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you - "

Steve stretched, he opened his eyes and looked around, before his eyes locked with Tony's. His husband was sitting in the middle of the bed on his knees and holding a tray and singing gently.

"Happy birthday, my Steve, happy birthday to you."

"What?" Steve smiled, lifting himself and leaning his back against the headrest. Tony, still in his night robe, was smiling with love at him, his face a bit tired, lit with the glow of the sunrise. Some claimed that no one looked good in orange, but Tony presented himself flawlessly, almost as some divine creature out of this world.

"Happy birthday!" Tony repeated in a bit louder voice, motioning to the tray. "Breakfast in bed!"

"Aw, babe," Steve cooed, looking at the contents of the tray and letting out a short, loud laugh. Freshly squeezed orange juice in a tall glass, a bright sunflower for decoration and a stack of steaming, fluffy pancakes, decorated with whipped cream and red, white and blue sprinkles, and fresh berries and a small American flag stuck on top. A truly patriotic breakfast on the 4th of July.  That explained the burnt smell from earlier and why Friday tried to keep him in bed. All to not spoil Tony's surprise.

"Thank you, honey," Steve leaned in closer, kissing Tony and strongly tasting coffee on his husband's lips. Well, Tony had to somehow keep himself awake.

"Eat up," Tony encouraged, putting the tray in Steve's lap, while he sat beside him and leaned over Steve's shoulder.

"You are not eating with me?" Steve asked, taking a fork and easily cutting through into the fluffy pancakes.

"This is all for you," Tony murmured, kissing Steve's shoulder, before putting his head back there. "And I had to eat all the burnt ones, so I am full," he said and made a displeased sound when Steve laughed, his shoulder jumping a bit and jostling Tony. "And I have a whole day planned for you! So, stock up on energy because you're gonna need it, birthday boy."

"Mhhhm," Steve smiled, savoring the sweet flavor of the pancakes and the spongy, melting in his mouth texture. Tony wasn't as bad in the kitchen as everyone assumed he was, but had some difficulties with properly measuring the time for cooking, so sometimes he burnt or left the food not fully cooked. This was perfect, just like Tony could perfectly make omelets and scrambled eggs, mastering the two simple dishes and elevating them.

After the breakfast, Steve stayed in bed longer than he had planned, solely because Tony fell to sleep on his shoulder, needing to make up for the shorter night and Steve didn't mind, maneuvering his husband into the covers and laying next to him, just soaking in the moment. Friday took the moment to wish him a happy birthday, and Steve thanked with a bright smile, proven to never doubt Friday. And when Tony woke up, they still stayed in bed, because the first thing on Tony's list of birthday activities involved a bed and two people in it and Steve, being the organized person he was, wouldn't argue with the schedule.

[faunusrights]

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 17

IN THIS EPISODE OF CRYING CAT GALLERY:

“Nice?” Cinder laughed under her breath once, and returned to examining her threads. “Oh, come on, Glynda. Favor isn’t in my vocabulary, remember? It’s just a shame about your cape. The emblem looked good, and your new outfit would look much better with it. That’s all.”

CINDER FALL IS REALLY BAD AT NOT BEING GAY ON MAIN

we’re bacc baby B) let’s hop right in

When Glynda awoke from her dream of being consumed,

alright calm down we’ve literally JUST started we’ve literally JUST woken up can we chill Out,

“Cinder?” she yawned, surveying the room.

sneak peek of that Sweet Domestic Life we dream of once this enemies-to-lovers malarkey reaches the ‘lovers’ bit but no we’re just surrounded by enemies. two of them being the writers!

Still, she couldn’t go wandering around Cinder’s apartment in only her underwear, but rooting through the drawers and closet didn’t seem— 

STEAL HER CLOTHES BABY!!!! PRACTICALLY MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The clothes didn’t seem Cinder’s size or style; they were casual and soft, a black t-shirt and steel-gray sweatpants.

okay but the idea of cinder getting up and being like ‘do i have ANYTHING this Unit of a woman will fit into’ and like actually having to think abt it and then folding em up and leaving em there like ‘hope she finds em okay’????? peak. absolutely peak. shes so gay but does she know it? no,

The fabric had enough give to make it work, even if only barely, and she looked in the mirror to see the loungewear looking more like tight athletic wear. Funny that.

kc and diesel envisioning this: oh yes. oh YES. ohhohughohguhghuhu yessssssssss--

She had—trusted? Been trusted? She had told Cinder fragile little things, and had heard similarly earnest words in return. It had been strange. Nice.

i love glynda like. feeling out of the edges of her own comfort and Pleasant Feelings with this almost-wariness? like every word she uses to describe it just Edges a little closer to Softness but she has to taste the word first to see if it fits. her narration is SO fun 2 read yall what the shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

This was Cinder’s house. It wasn’t just any house. These were Cinder’s belongings, Cinder’s resting places, and she was wandering around without Cinder.

Voyeuristic was putting it mildly. Glynda needed to find Cinder, fast.

HJGDKJGHDFSSDF GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! glynda just. losing it at such LITTLE THINGS is so goddamn funny jesus christ. this is cinders house!!! her THINGS!!! fuck she NAPS IN HERE. SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

god i love how soft this is. i know exactly why this is happening and i know exactly how [REDACTED], but i’m living for this moment. living IN it.

Spread out on the table was a wanted poster with a mugshot of Cinder on it, defaced with black permanent marker and crease marks.

cinder: yeah they didnt get the eyebrows sharp enough and im mad abt it

“Well, your clothes are in the wash.” Cinder said, turning around, coffee in hand. It was so…domestic. “It would help if you had more than one set.”

shouting from a distance: you two should get MARRIED

“You’ve been wearing the same dress the entire time I’ve known you.”

look at these lil JABS... the JESTS... the JOQUES... i cant believe theyve been married 10 years already. im also deeply enjoying how very indulgent this section is. I Am Seeing,

Glynda scoffed, and when Cinder reached for the sugar on the counter, she gave it a subtle nudge with her Semblance. It slid out of Cinder’s reach.

JESUS CHRIST LOOK AT THIS WHAT THE HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! soulmates.

Cinder shrugged, still looking elsewhere. “Mercury thought it was funny.”

“Mercury?”

cinder: my son and BOY. and, one day, yr son and boy, tho he won’t take it lying down.

Cinder scoffed. “You just don’t appreciate my good tastes.”

i feel like the evidence is truly stacking up to very much prove this statement wrong but u kno what lets let her figure that one out for herself

“A souvenir from the brats,” she said. “And a letter excusing the mess they made of the place.”

KIDS KIDS KIDS KIDS

She said, “I just didn’t know you had kids.”

KIDS KIDS KIDS KIDS KIDS

“It’s fine,” said Cinder tersely, but not harshly. “It isn’t wise to advertise in my business, so keep it to yourself.”

KIDS KIDS KIDS KIDS KIDS KIDS KIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GOD YES that little like... indirect admittance that em and merc r basically her own kids is a fucking BLESSING from ON HIGH are you SEEING THIS SHIT????????????? we have been fed today. my crops r watered and my lambs bouncing over the green fields as we feast. what a moment. wow. what a chapter.

When Cinder finally finished hers and rose to get another cup, Glynda allowed some of her thoughts to solidify. She said, “I want new clothes.”

as a side note, i think it rly shows the strength of the writing that the feeling of the narrative can change so much, esp when u take into consideration that we jump between the points of view of TWO characters? like with cinder we’ve gone from sheer fury to gruesome sickness, and with glynda we’ve gone from Complete Dissociation to this gentle and soft morning and you can feel it absolutely fluffing up in every word! still love how good the writing in this fic is its NUTS

Cinder shrugged. Her usual clothes were still in the wash; right now, she was wearing high-waisted black pants and a loose top tucked in.

diesel i want you to know im thinking abt what u said abt the high-waisted pants mods in sims 4 and im giggling

The necklace with Glynda’s earring hung from her throat.

i didnt mention it before but this is the... second time this chapter its been explicitly mentioned? and i know we could be like ‘ah the MEANING’ but honestly im like glynda r u rly not over the bobbies y

“You aren’t dead in there, are you?” came Cinder’s voice.

“No.”

“Well. At this pace, I will be before we get out of here.”

cinder, who probably once spent 7+ hours choosing an outfit: look its only cool if i do it, dipshit,

Unsnapping the lone earring left to her, she brought it to her collar and fixed it there, under the clasped button to dangle just over her sternum.

When she stepped out of the changing room, Cinder looked up. A slow dawn of interest eclipsed the boredom on her face. Glynda stood very still as her gaze flowed up and down again, pausing over the earring.

Cinder touched the matching one hanging from her own neck, almost in surprise. She cleared her throat. Her tone was very deliberately mocking: “Cute.”

OOOOOOOOOOOH MY GOD are we for SERIOUS right now??? jesus christ. jesus christ. we’ve moved on past married now this is ride-or-die shit right here what the FUCK. jesus CHRIST. theres- i- i have THOUGHTS on this matter that are spoilery and so i will SIT ON THIS EGG but HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLY SHIT

“Nothing,” Cinder said, smoothing her expression into something unreadable. “I was just thinking—nevermind.” 

no, no, go on, speak yr mind, please do, because if u were abt to offer to embroider that shit then PLEASE say it aloud for the audience at home

“If I was a cop, you’d already be in jail.”

“You’re welcome to try to take me in, darling.”

im sure its obvious but im BESIDE myself @ this flirting. im losing it. this is SUCH a treat and i KNOW that [REDACTED] [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] but AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“That’s because of your—” Cinder was already gone. Glynda pressed her lips together, but watched her go. Rolling her eyes, she finished, “—Grimm tattoos.”

Whatever. She could gloat about figuring it out later.

/CHOKES

WHAT

@kc and diesel: CALL ME RIGHT NOW WHAT THE FUCK

okay okay. wait. okay. wait. theres. wait. okay. i cant. am i safe to say anything. probably not. so. im not gonna. but. you WILL be seeing me in dms, friends,

okay okay im moving on im gonna. keep going. okay. okay. im going. (but i will be in dms)

there was a brief discussion of dinner: namely, that neither of them wanted to make it.

oh god why is this me

“Give me your new cape.”

“What?”

Finally looking up, Cinder said, “Your cape. Let me have it, and I’ll put your emblem on it.”

THANK YOU MA’AM AND THANK YOU FOR READING THE FIC HAS ENDED ITS ALL OVER WITH!!!!!! WE DID IT!!!!!!! WE RODE THIS WHOLE TRAIN TOGETHER!!!!!!!!!!!!! UNFORTUNATELY IF ONLY IT WERE SO EASY.

Glynda ignored it for the time being and sent the vector of her emblem to Cinder.

i deeply love the idea of all hunters and huntresses carrying a vector of their emblem JUST IN CASE,,, SMTHNG HAPPENS,,, its right alongside the list of their next of kin and their will and testament,

Cinder Fall was a name built on Dust and money and extravagant demonstrations.

But Cinder Fall was also a woman with a family. A home. A favorite blend of coffee.

this is absolutely kicking me in the dick for reasons i cant say but also for reasons of SNOFT because oh my god. this is. like. this is why i rly vibe w. cinder in this fic and is also like one of my favourite characterisations of cinder of ALL TIME (which is why all my fav cinder fics typically have it as a Theme). shes SO good and SO dimensional and i just. god. GOD. i LOVE HER!!!!!!!!! ID DIE FOR HER!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAA CINDER FALL IS MY ANGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL

It felt like being told a secret, like being told a thousand secrets, and not knowing what to do with them. All she could do was hold them in her palms, delicate as she could, trying not to break anything.

GIMME ARMS TO PRAY WITH INSTEAD OF ONES THAT HOLD TOO TIGHTLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! /goes apeshit

And because of that, Glynda asked, “Do you have any more stories?”

Without looking up, Cinder drawled, “About Witches?”

“Or dragons.”

Gold flickered her way.

👈😳👈

“They’d already been built by the Witches that came before her,” Cinder replied. “But she’d been a headmaster at one of them, and a teacher before that.”

Something in Glynda’s chest gleamed.

lore lore lore lore LORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! lets GET THAT LORE as i peer blearily thru tears,

“...You haven’t just been pretending not to remember things, have you?”

firstly: called out lmao JHGSDFKJHGFSD and SECONDLY:

“The moon?” Cinder made a face. “I’m not sure if it’s that literal. Your soul is powerful, but it’s not a physical thing. Besides, the moon is…”

“Broken,” Glynda finished for her.

“Yeah.”

hm what a fascinating thing hm how interesting hm hm HMMMM 👈🤔👈

Even as they ate, they both seemed lost in their own heads, but somehow, to Glynda, it seemed perfectly clear that both of them were wondering the same thing.

wait glynda. hey glynda. did u uh. ever. did u uh. text winter back or w

WE DID IT CHAPTER 17!!!!!!!!!!! this was a Lot (4,500 words? yall better be careful before those 10k chapters return to Haunt Us) and was also, a Lot. holy shit. theres. i. id make a spoiler edition but tbh its just the SAME SPOILER thats like. rly driving this chapter. i know what its for. i know it. i feel it. dont trust winter more like dont trust the writers

ANYWAY I LOOK FORWARD (?) EAGERLY (???) to chapter 18, unsure when the vibes will turn rancid for the worse. when. honey. theres a big storm coming.

[lostinthewiind]

Omg you are so talented! Bless this blog 😊 Can I make a request for something sweet and fluffy with our fav murder baby Ron Speirs? Maybe where he cheers his s.o. up after a hard day + struggling with self-esteem issues? I hope that‘s not too specific!!! 🙈 Thank you ❤️

Golly, you’re much too kind! Thank you for reading my stuff! 

This is my very first murder baby Ron Speirs fic. Fingers crossed it turns out okay! Hopefully, I can really capture his murder essence with my words.

“You Did Not Kill That Boy”

Drawing your knees up to your chest, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, slowly trying to return the rising and falling of your chest back to its normal rhythm as you rocked back and forth on the bed.

Your head hung low as the events from that day flashed through your mind, causing your heart rate to increase, directly opposing the work you were putting in to calm down.

To put things plainly, it had been a real shit day. On what was supposed to be a routine patrol, Easy Company walked right into a German ambush. You had been the only medic present, so it was up to you, and you alone, to patch up the men who had gotten hit. However, your mind had been elsewhere. 

Ronald Speirs.

After the first Kraut had popped out of that damn bush, he had rushed forward, taking lead and directing the men into a plan of action. You hated when he did that; when he purposely put himself at more risk than necessary. 

While the Lieutenant and his men counter-attacked, you were left to pick up the pieces of the damage that had already been created.

Kneeling beside the bleeding soldier, his glossy eyes fixed on you as he pleaded over and over again for you to save him, you kept looking up to find the man you loved. There was a young man dying in front of you and all you could think about was Ronald and if he was okay or not. 

Hearing the doorknob twist, your head shot up and you wiped away the tears that you hadn’t even noticed had fallen from your eyes. You hoped you looked okay; like you hadn’t just been sitting in silence, bawling over the fact that you were a pathetic excuse for a medic.

“Ah, you’re here.” Ron smiled as he entered the room, closing the door behind himself before making his way over to the desk, placing a quick kiss on the top of your head as he passed by. “How was the rest of your day?”

You swallowed hard at the question. You hated lying to him, but you knew if you started to tell him the truth you would break down into tears again. You hated looking weak in front of him. He already had enough to deal with as it was with being a Lieutenant and the leader of Easy Company. He didn’t need to be burdened with your problems too.

“It was fine.” you forced a smile. “Yours?”

Ron sat down at the desk and began flipping through the various documents he had carried in with him. “Ah, you know, usual stuff after an attack like the one we had today,” he muttered, his tongue sticking ever-so-slightly out of the corner of his mouth as he searched for something in particular. “Had to fill out a report, check on the guys, draft a few letters home to the families of the men we lost.”

The face of that poor boy that you had failed to save flashed before your eyes. You felt sick to your stomach when you remembered how he begged not to die, his words coming out in gurgles as the blood spilled from his lips like a crimson waterfall. You could hear his voice in your ears so clearly it was as if he was sitting right behind you.

He had been so young and you had let him die. 

Before you knew it, you had broken down into a puddle of self-pity; tears running down your cheeks as you covered your mouth with your hands in order to muffle your sobs. 

Ron looked over at you from where he was sitting at the desk, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his hands freezing mid-action. He had no idea what had happened — or if he had said something — that would have made you cry. He played back the previous short conversation between the two of you in his head, but he was still at a loss.

“Darling?” he slowly stood up from his chair and walked over to the bed, crouching down beside it and placing a comforting hand on your thigh. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

His question only made you cry harder as you tried to explain, but the only noises that came out were gasps and desperate hiccups. 

Ronald was no closer to figuring out what the problem was, but his mission was to find out and make it stop. He couldn’t see you like this. It broke his heart.

Crawling onto the bed, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing tight and pulling you into his lap. “Darling.” his lips ghosted over your ear as he whispered to you. “Why are you crying? Please, tell me so I can make it better. What’s wrong?”

Burying your face into his neck, you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt for support and sucked in mouthful after mouthful of air. “I-” your lips quivered as you spoke. “I killed that boy!”

After the words flew out of your mouth you broke down again, your tears soaking Ron’s neck and the collar of his jacket. The worried man recalled mentioning the men that had died that day and having to write letters home to the families. Suddenly, everything made sense.

“Oh, Y/N, no you didn’t.” his heart shattered into millions of little fragments as he hugged you as close as he could to his body. “You didn’t kill him. The Germans did. The Germans killed him.”

“I should have saved him!” you screamed out, the words tearing through your vocal cords as you forced them out in between sobs. “He begged me to save him and I let him die! I was too busy looking for you and he died in my hands! I’m a terrible medic!”

Pulling your head out from the crook of his neck, Ron cupped your face in his hands and made sure you were looking at him. “You did not kill that boy, you hear me?” his voice was stern but his thumbs were gentle as they wiped away the tears under your eyes. “You are not a terrible medic.”

Your small hands moved from his uniform to his arms, your fingers wrapping around his wrists. “I was so worried about you.” you had managed to calm down a little. You took long, deep breaths as you looked into his eyes, focusing on how his irises appeared as an auburn colour from the yellow hue of the single lamp in the corner of the room. “You ran right out into the gunfire. I thought you were going to die.”

The corners of his mouth tugged into a small smirk. “Don’t you know by now that I can’t die?” he quipped, attempting to lighten the mood and succeeding.

You let out a noise that could only be described as a cross between a laugh and a snort. “Don’t try and be funny.” your smile faded just as quick as it had appeared. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your tear-soaked ones. “You didn’t kill that boy. Don’t you think that for even a second because it’s not true. I watched you work on him. I watched you battle death itself. The bullet went right through his throat. There was no saving him. He was dead from the moment that German lined him up in his sight.”

Inhaling deeply, you sat up straight and dried your face with your wrists. “Yeah?” you choked out.

“Yes.” he nodded, his palms still glued to the soft skin of your cheeks. “I wouldn’t lie to you. I respect you too much. I love you too much.”

A warm, genuine smile spread across your lips. Finally, for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe easy. The elephant that had been sitting on your chest and pushing you down into the ground had gotten up and sauntered away. 

“You know, if you were this sweet to everyone, people wouldn’t think that you kill POWs for sport.” you joked, a toothy grin replacing your previous closed-lipped smile. 

“Mmm, I don’t think so.” he gently removed you from his lap and stood back up again. “This side of me is for you and you only.” he captured your lips in his. “Besides, I like the men being scared of me. It makes getting them to do things easier.”

You shrugged as he wandered back over to the desk. “Fair point.”

Collapsing into the wooden chair, Ron looked over at you and sighed. “Feeling better?”

“You have that effect on me, yes.” you attributed your calmer demeanor to his comforting and caring ways. “If only you would just stop running towards the enemy in the first place.”

Ron glanced toward you, a wicked grin on his face. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

[jessahmewren]

in transit / Gillovny fic

Well boys and girls I kind of went for the deep end here and wrote one of my fav pairings.  I hope I did them justice.  Oh yeah and this is pretty filthy so don’t read this around innocents, at work, around public buildings or at all probably.  

Summary: David and Gillian share a limo on the way to the Jimmy Kimmel Show, and things get a little heated.

Also at A03.

-0-0-0-

The engine idled almost soundlessly, blowing a billowy cloud of white exhaust into the brisk January air.  It was cold, even for L.A., and David sighed, his lips pursed in thought as he looked at the growing storm clouds through the tinted windows of the limousine.  If she didn’t hurry, they wouldn’t make it there before the rain.

“So um, how did you like that game the other night Mr. Duchovny?”  David looked up, suddenly pulled from thought, to see the partition down and the driver making eye contact with him through the rearview mirror.  He wasn’t Sam, he realized absently.  This man was new and much younger.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”  He was halfway listening, one eye on the door of Gillian’s building, the other on his watch.

“The College Football National Championship,” the young man replied, the eagerness building in his eyes.  “Helluva game.”

“Um, I didn’t watch it,” David murmured absently.  “Listen—I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Craig sir.”  The young man smiled genuinely at David, and to his credit, David returned in kind.

“Craig.  Could you ring Ms. Anderson’s building again?  Remind her assistant that we have to be at Kimmel’s in an hour and it’s rush hour?”

“Y-yes sir.”  

The partition went up again, and for that, David was grateful. He pulled out his cellphone and opened a text window.

David: DARLING

Gillian: yes LOVE?

David: where the hell are you

Gillian: finishing something important

David: hon get your ass in the car

Gillian: can’t in the middle of something

David: can’t it wait?

Gillian: no ;)

David: wait a min

Gillian: …

David: Gillian get down here rn

David: Gillian

David GILLIAN

Gillian: stop shouting at me

Gillian: if you would help me maybe I would finish quicker <3

David: I will do no such thing

David: This is a silly ritual anyway

Gillian: it’s not silly.  I get nervous.

David: so you have to flick the bean before every interview

Gillian: I hate it when you call it that :(

He closed the chat window, cursing to himself at the semi he was now nursing.  Just knowing Gillian was up there, panties around her ankles (or carelessly thrown in a corner) her hand buried between her thighs…

David shifted uncomfortably on the plush leather seat, now unfortunately fully hard.  Then, as if on cue, Gillian emerged from the ornate doors of her building, blonde hair streaming over her shoulders, little black dress swishing around her toned calves.

Craig opened the door for her, and she effortlessly slid into the backseat alongside David, bumping shoulders with him before crossing her smooth legs and canting her hips just so as she got comfortable.  David managed to hide his erection from Craig with a crossed arm over his lap, and the engine revved a little as the pulled away from the curb and into midday traffic in L.A.

“Gimme your hands,” David said as the limo joined the line of commuters headed for downtown.  Gillian played coy but finally relented as he pressed her fingers firmly to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“You washed up too well,” he said, frowning.  “There’s barely any of you left.”

Gillian laughed, snatching them away from his nose and back into her lap.  “Why should I tell you anything,” she said, smiling, “when you were so unsupportive before?”

David curled his lips against the crook of her neck, relishing in the warmth there.  “Oh but I do support you,” he whispered as his hand trailed up the curve of her leg.  “I was just jealous before.  Jealous of those pretty fingers.”  His hands met her inner thigh, and she squirmed a little in her seat.  “Did my Gilly use a toy?”

“The blue one,” she whispered, her eyes nearly closed.

David smiled, leaning over to kiss her ear.  “Ah, the blue one.  I love that one.  It’s got the little—“

“The bunny ears,” Gillian supplied breathlessly.  David’s hand had reached the juncture of her thighs now. He could feel the heat of her through the barely-there thong she wore beneath her dress.

“What do you say nervous girl…you got another one in you?”  David nipped at her neck while simultaneously thumbing her clit through the thin lace.

She moaned softly, finding his lips, opening her legs to the flat of his hand as his digits trailed through her wet heat.

She gasped into his mouth as he shed the thong, stripping it down her legs to her knees, liking the way her milky white skin looked against the black lace.  He palmed her breast then, rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger, pinching it just to the point of pain.

Gillian keened before biting the back of her hand, remembering the babyfaced driver and the thin partition separating them.  But David took her hand away.  “Make all the noise you want baby.”  He worked her clit with the thick pad of his thumb, spreading her wetness over the hood before plunging two of his digits into her tight heat.  “I want the world to know you’re mine.”

“Yess,” Gillian moaned, her legs braced against the adjacent seats.  “I’m yours,” she choked out.  With David’s fingers crooked inside her mercilessly working against her g-spot, she could feel the tight hot coil of her orgasm threatening to tip her over the edge.  She began to thrust against his fingers, riding hard as the warmth in her belly spread to her limbs and across her torso.  She clung to his shoulders, seeking closeness…seeking more.

“It’s just…” she stammered between thrusts…”I need…”

Gillian was almost whining, but David knew his lover.  He brushed the hair back from her face.  “You need me to fill you up baby?  Fill you all up?” he said as he took his other hand and spread her wetness back over her bum.

She nodded emphatically.

“Just one finger then,” he said gently, and as soon as he filled her she came like a vice, her juices covering his hand and the seat beneath her.

He cooed softly, rocking her gently as she came down from her high.  He was harder than ever now, precum soaking the front of his pants.  He rubbed his hand over his erection, seeking a bit of relief.

“You did so well sweetie.  It’s what you needed.”

Gillian reached up to stroke his face, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his pants.

“What about what you need David?” Her bright eyes flashed up at him almost innocently, but when Gillian reached out to stroke him, he stayed her hand.

“We don’t have time for that hon.  I’ll be fine.”

Gillian blinked at him in disbelief.  “Of course we do.  Look at that traffic.”  She tapped on the partition and within in a few seconds, it came down.  “Driver, what’s our ETA?”

Craig looked at the thoroughly debauched woman with a carefully blank expression.  “We’re going to be regrettably late ma’am.  Traffic is heavy.  I have already called ahead.”

Gillian smiled.  “Thank you.”

The partition raised again and Gillian turned her attention back to David.

She began fumbling with his belt, her fingers brushing his erection through his pants.  The sharp intake of breath that resulted spoke of his need and only emboldened her.

When she took him out she trailed a finger along the silken length of him, all veined and angry and leaking for her.  She licked her lips as she looked at him, then met his hazel eyes.

“You like what you see, Ms. Anderson?”  He’d scooted further down in the seat, and his lips were slighted curved in a demure smile.

“Very much so, Mr. Duchovny.” Her hair had fallen over one shoulder, and she looked up at him through her lashes.  “I’m about to show you just how much.”

His hips hitched when her lips descended on him, tongue swirling around his uncut head, lips and tongue lapping at the precum beading at the slit.  When she took him in as far as she could, he arched into her, fighting for control as she swallowed him down.

She worked to find her rhythm, moving her head on his member until her mouth was stretched wide over his cock, throat taut with the strain of not gagging with each bob of her head.  David’s breath grew ragged with his own orgasm tightening his spine, a white hot streak of lightening he fought desperately to keep bottled until Gillian inexplicably pulled off of him with a plop.

She smiled up at him, her lips swollen and a shiny thread of saliva hanging from the corner of her mouth.

“Fuck my face lover.” She had a gleam in her eye as she went down on him again, his cock twitching at the heat of her mouth, the power of her words.

He buried his hands in her hair and was powerless to comply.

He thrust into her face…once…twice…three times, his hands buried in those golden strands as he ground out his release.  His teeth were clenched in ecstasy, then his world went white.

When his bitter essence hit her tongue, she swallowed it greedily, hands clenched on his hips as he released his grip on her.  When he finally relaxed, she pulled away from him, wiping her mouth and climbing into his lap.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” Gillian murmured against his cheek.

David smiled, rubbing a thumb across her lips.  “How would you know,” he said with a small laugh.  “You couldn’t see much with your face between my legs.”

Gillian grinned.  “Ah, I’ve seen it all before,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“Old news huh,” he said as he lovingly tweaked her nose.

“Old news,” she sighed.

They said nothing for a long time.  David tucked himself back into his pants, and Gillian straightened her dress.  She lay back against his shoulder.  The patter of rain began to hit the roof of the limo.  

“We’re lucky,” David murmured.  “You know that?”

Gillian ran her hand along the length of his arm.  Outside, the sign for Disney’s El Capitan Theater was just coming into view.  “The luckiest,” she agreed.

-0-0-0-

[moonwolfhowl]

Yuletide 2k19 edition

Hiyo, first off I’m moonwolfhowl on tumblr and nightmoonz on AO3. I’m really excited that you got me and I just want to thank you so much in advance and I really hope you have fun with this!!

Secondly, here are a couple things that I like and dislike, (and some prompts but you can take ‘em or leave ‘em). If you’re not 100% sure on if something is or isn’t my deal my ask box is open and the anon option is turned on.  

Ratings: I prefer through T-M, but tbh I’m pretty easy so if you wanna go up to E feel free ^__^“’

Likes, Loves and DNWs:

Likes and Loves!

AUs! No, seriously, every kind of AU

Humor! Especially: sarcasm, witty banter, etc…

Angst and hurt/comfort are awesome!

Slow Burns

MUTUAL PINING and/or SEEMINGLY unrequited feels

idiots to lovers, this can either be enemies to lovers or friends to lovers. sort of related to the point straight above XD

found families

Fake relationship/dating/marriage you know for a cover/mission/(fill in the blank)

Bed Sharing

Sex Pollen

“In Vino Veritas” 

Happy Endings!!

Squicks/DNWs (do not wants):

Character Bashing

Abuse of any kind

Cheating

Actual unrequited feelings

Harm to animals

Non-Con

Incest

Mpreg

Major Character Death

Scat and/or Watersports

2nd and 1st person perspective

Spiders especially Tarantulas, this is a huge trigger for me

Okay! I’m gonna put a break here because this is a long post and all prompts/ideas are below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alrighty, so these are just some silly prompts or ideas that you can take from or totally ignore altogether! It’s really just some ideas that you can look to if you’re stuck or need a jumping off point.  And man, like if you already had an idea? Please feel free to go with that instead, I just want you to have fun  = ^__^ =  

Also again, if you have any questions the anon option is turned on for my ask box.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~OOctopath Traveler - Therion, Tressa Colzione, Cordelia Ravus, and Leon Bastralle

Oh boy this game. I have no words that can even describe how much I LOVE this game. The storytelling was fantastic and I got really invested in not just the main 8 but in all of the minor/side characters too. I know I have Therion, Cordelia, Tressa and Leon specifically but if you want to throw in any of the other characters in the tagset you totally can, same with any side ships (here’s looking **You don't have to include ALL the characters I selected here in your fic, you can mix them up or follow a prompt I have. I only request that you include at least one of the ones picked here <3

I’m kind of open to anything but if you do need a jumping off point (and/or want to see me gush over my favs) check out the prompts below

Therion - I love him and would die for him he is my perfect little trash bandit. It kills me how he longs to belong somewhere but is equally afraid of it for very good reasons. Because of this he’s so heavily guarded and *sobs* his reactions to people (the 8 and Cordelia) genuinely caring about his wellbeing? It just hrrk! I’m so happy I started with him, that I got to see his growth throughout the story and how his emotional wounds finally seem like they’re on their way to healing. Tressa - My adorable little gremlin, she’s such a little badass! While money may be on her mind a lot she’d never cheat anyone! She’s genuinely kind and her travel adventure is so interesting because it’s about exploring the world, experiencing new places—and while she has a certain understanding of this—she learns the true meaning of sentimental value in things. I love her so much. Leon - I love how much of his character is wrapped up in some mystery and that he seems like a tortured but mature soul (as you can see I have a type.) Cordelia - I love Cordelia and she is entirely underrated. She’s been through quite a lot and her faith in my best boy helped him come back into the world able to to trust and love people again. She’s very soft and caring and now that her stolen heirlooms have been restored to her she can come back into the world herself.

Gen ideas:

Tressa and Therion teasing TF out of each other doesn’t matter what about or who about. I just love them and they have such a brosis vibe

Tressa spear fishing and shocking Therion or everyone by it, you can add any and/or all of the characters in the tag. (Inaccurate Tressa, "What? I live in a Port Town my dudes.”)

I know this is cheesy but Therion having his first Apple Pie would destroy me ; __ ; it can be when he’s little or an adult, AU, Canonverse or Canon divergent it can be a Birthday treat to himself, it can be the first thing he pays for with money he earned on his own. If you want to include any character my sign up sheet or want to include any other octo character(s) that’s fine too!

Shippy ideas (which I’m a little more into but whatever you are comfortable with is a-okay by me):

Cordelia Ravus/Therion (Thordelia)

THEM *SWOONS* I just love them, Cordelia helps my baby boy trust in people again and brings happiness back to his world… and he has so much respect for her I’m just— ; __ ; I just love them

Actor & Author relationship: AU, Canonverse or Canon divergent you name it!

Again Tressa teasing TF out of Therion but specifically about Cordelia (esp after his chapter good god. *swoon*)

Cordelia’s POV on her Noble Thief

Anything post game like I wouldn’t mind seeing her rebuilding Bolderfall, visiting each layer of the city and helping it thrive

Fake Dating. Any Setting XD

The “I’m supposed to take out the target but I fell for them instead” is also very good

Tressa Colzione/Leon Bastralle

; w ; their relationship and care for each other—like Thordelia’s—makes my heart melt

Any kind of them traveling together and developing feels on the open seas post game

Her being his apprentice and learning from him while teaching him some new things

Does Leon have a thing for the arts? Is that why he’s particularly enamored endeared to Tressa spotting the painting?

yeah ngl anything, my thirst is real

A Very Shippy and utterly ridiculous prompt. Tressa x Leon (Treon? Lessa?) and/or Thordelia (however if you wanna include other side ships like Olberhardt or H’aanit x Ophilia for example you can go for it!)

Masquerade! Can be Canonverse, Canon Divergent or AU!

A Masquerade ball in which: 

They can either know each other beforehand or not

Halloween Party, Adults, College AU

idk this is just something to have fun with and hey lol if you wanna make it more mature feel free

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Promare - Lio, Galo, Gueira, Meis

Man this movie messed me up and all the right ways. Honestly one of the most chilling things was to see all of the Burnish being used as engine fuel… I like—ngl I cried, and then when Lio gets used as the core? ; __ ;

Honestly I will be happy with anything you come up with, there are so many possibilities just know that a heavy angst fic is A-okay by me, but if you want to do a flufflier or humor fic those are also so Very VERY good. I have some ideas below but again like if you have an idea in mind or started something by viewing my likes list go for it!

**You don't have to include ALL the characters I selected here in your fic, you can mix them up or follow a prompt I have. I only request that you include at least one of the ones picked here <3

Lio - Um yes I love him. He’s just such a tortured soul and true cares about people. I like—honestly he is my favorite character. The way he used his flame to protect Galo? How hard he fights for the Burnish? How hard Gueira and Meis fight for him and stop at nothing to save him speaks volumes about the kind of person he is. I just love him and want him to have nice things

Galo - This wonderful brilliant dumbass. I also love him and despite me calling him a dumbass he’s actually pretty with it when it comes to adapting to his environment. He also takes in new information and rather than reject it out right he examines it critically. Like the way he approached Kray about the Burnish experiments was not the smartest… However, he still went to find the truth no matter how much it could have hurt him and that really defines what kind of guy he is.

Gueira & Meis - So unfortunately we didn’t get to see much of these two but what we did get to see was GOLD. I love them, I love how they fight so hard to protect their fellow burnish and how loyal they are to Lio. Like omg when the Burnish were being rounded up but they used the last of their strength to save Lio, believing—knowing that he would come back for them? *hrrk* My heart.

So okay!!! Ideas and/or prompts! Again you don’t have to use these if you don’t want to <3

Anything Shippy with Lio and Galo + hurt/comfort?? 10/10

An AU where the Promare gift the Burnish with their “fire bending” abilities permanently

Anything found family esp if it's adopting Lio's litter fam with Galo's ; w ;

I'd love to see what was going on with Gueira/Meis while they were locked up side by side. What did they talk about? Their faith in Lio? Them possibly growing up with Lio? Their feels for each other? And honestly you can go as angsty as you want to with this.

Gueira & Meis being over protective (big bros) of their boss and bestie Lio. (Poor Galo lmao)

Feel free to include any other characters you want from the tag set or canon in general ^___^ 

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Crescent Moon - Any

Ah… my poor beautiful tiny manga fandom… I love this 6 volume series so much. The storytelling can be fast paced at times but it doesn't even phase me considering how detailed and intricate the themes, lore, relationships and monsters & magic are. For this fandom anything goes, like any AUs, tropes, canon compliant or divergent is all welcome here.

Bonus points if you have your own take of the song/legend: “Princess Princess why do you cry?”

If you want to make a fic about the Princess and the Demon boy when they were kids, or have any fic at all featuring them (kid or adult) I'm all for it.

I love Mahiru Shiraishi/Mitsuru Suou they are such little disasters anything with them would be amazing but I’m a multishipper so if you have a ship that isn't them and you've been dying to write your ship? Write your ship! I'd love to read it!!! 

And anything including Akira is god tier - he is the bestest boy. 

I’m sorry I know this prompt is very open ended and very vague but like I’d just be happy with anything

[kkyuproof]

Jikook/Kookmin Fic Rec Part 1

(Part 2 Here)

I’ve slowly been building up my list of KM fics and thought I might as well share them with the rest of the Tumblr-sphere (and organize them all because if the rest of my life is a mess, at least my fav fics can be orderly amirite)! I’m somewhat new to BTS and KM so it’s not too big a list, but I’m going to be updating this as I find more that I enjoy :) Happy Reading! 

(most of these are probs old fics because like i said IM NEW HERE IM SO SORRY, but i hope you still find it helpful idk man)

Mostly Fluffy Fics

you are the ruler of the stars (and my heart) by cygnus (sunsprite) | Words: 18k | Jimin reluctantly joins his college’s Space and Astronomy club on the basis of Taehyung’s persuasion. Surrounded by a group of unnecessarily tall space nerds, he unexpectedly finds himself falling in love with one of them.

OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO CUTE. One of my fav fluffy fics to be honest. I was squealing basically the whole time i was reading. love.

i’ll stick to you like glue-cose by cygnus (sunsprite) | Words: 7k |  Jimin merely wanted to study in peace, yet a certain five-foot ten frat boy -- unfortunately also a past hookup -- that epitomizes the very definition of smugness in one entire body whose ego is as big and full-scaled as the national debt, won’t let him.

Another super cute fluffy fic!!! i just found this author and the fluff is just so amazingly written and not cliche at all and ugh. JK acts like he’s all suave but he’s really just a big softie and AH. 

friday nights (with you) by kstorms | Words: 24k |  How a random night at a karaoke bar leaves Jimin with two new friends and a frowny, terribly handsome crush.

Anther classic tbh. I think I’ve read this through like four or five times bc i have literally no life and enjoy this VERY well written humor. There’s like zero angst in this and it’s all mostly Taehyung being a very cute little shit to JK (KM is there obvs and they super cute but ya know). Def a must read.

competency at its highest potency by MauveTarte | Words: 10k | State-Sponsored Runs are the excitement of every Alpha and Omega youth.

Or,

Jimin has one final chance at this bonding thing before his life goes to shit.

the one and only ABO fic i’ve read with NO SMUT. that’s right, ya heathens! this one is solely plot driven (and super fluffy). It’s cute af and Taehyung is an amazing friend :)

(my heart beats) for you by sabotagemyheart | Words: 17k | In which Jungkook, as a child, befriends the exceptionally adorable, small and friendless Jimin, not knowing that after a few years, he’ll be wrecking this very boy underneath himself making him whimper out his name.

okay LISTEnn. This summary makes this fic sound a lot dirtier than it is (ok yes it’s smutty BUT there’s more fluff in this than anything else. its so so so cute.)

Mostly Smutty Fics

Studio 2 by Charmander | Words: 20k WIP | Somewhere along the way, Jimin lost that passion he used to pour into his art, watching as it slipped through his very fingers. But street kid Jungkook is all heart and soul, and he’s more than willing to help Jimin learn to burn with the same fire he carries inside himself.

okay so this one is very plot heavy (as is most of Charmander’s fics) so don’t think you’re getting JUST smut. it has an amazing storyline about sexuality struggles and i think a lot of you would enjoy it! (the smut is bomb af tho sooo) 

Starstruck by SugaTheTurtle | Words: 5k |  Everyone is attracted to idols at one point or another. As part of Big Hit’s staff, Jimin really shouldn’t still be as attracted to Jungkook as he was at the beginning. Maybe if he wasn’t he wouldn’t be stuck hiding inside a closet in his dressing room silently praying that the idol was reaching for the zipper on his pants to change into something more comfortable.

ALRIGHTY HERE WE GO LADIES AND GENTS. This is for all you kinky fuckers out there who love pure smut. It was very interesting at first but as it progressed i was like whoaoaa i need some holy water. this fic is the epitome of “well, that escalated quickly” (but it’s still not rushed ??? which like...how?) enjoy! lmao.

Interlude by Bunbungee | Words: 9k | Jungkook has fallen in love at first listen with Jimin’s interlude and he won’t stop until he finds out why he is reacting so strongly to it. His search for answers takes a new turn when, one night, he discovers just how much the song can affect him.

Okay this was smutty, but still SUPER CUTE bc jeon is his typical shy bunny self who’s super oblivious and jimin is just a sweetheart. looooove.

Wet Depths by WorldwideWriter | Words: 10k | All it takes for Jungkook to break is a slightly unfair swimming competition and a too seductive Jimin.

GIVE ME ALL THE ENEMIES TO LOVERS FICS hell yes. I love their dynamic in this one, they hate each other (but they really don’t lol like come on.) and the sexual tension is insane.

everybody’s watching him, but he’s looking at you by jonghyunslisterine | Words: 6k|   In which Jimin formulates a three-step plan to get the hot bouncer to notice him. (Spoiler: it doesn’t go quite as expected.)

okay this is smutty but also super cute so like idk where to put it but jimin wears a thong in it so i think the smut category will suffice. a quick read but so worth it, JK is a lowkey sweetheart.

Blood & Chocolate by MyHope (CutesyMe) | Words: 35k | “What if I only want you to sit on my lap?” the stranger asks, which is an odd request. People always want Jimin to dance for them. Only sometimes do they ask of him to just sit on their lap but event hen he has to move in some way and not just sit still.

“Same price,” Jimin retorts.

Jungkook spreads his legs slightly and motions to his lap as if it’s the best seat that has ever been offered to Jimin. “Be my guest.”

so i don’t really know what to say here but i loved their dynamic in this fic?? i love the way JK treats JM in this ahhhh its SMUTTY AF but he still super sweet and protective.  There’s sooooome angst but it’s not too bad. Good plot.

New Heights by Charmander | Words 11k| There’s no better way to remind yourself that you’re alive than tempting fate from 700 meters above the ground and the searing touch of another’s fingers dragging down your chest.

1000% my favorite smut fic out there. the dialogue written in this fic is so well-done and absolutely hilarious. Sexual tension is CRAZY. love his fics.

give in to the game by cherrygloss | Words: 23k | “Jimin, if you honestly think that I’m going to pretend to be your boyfriend so you can make your ex jealous, then you’re out of your mind.”

im s oRRY, i know this is mostly smut aljfdlkaldfj my thirsty ass has bookmarked so many smut fics but i can’t help it oof. but this is super cute smut with some feeliins.

Nu ABO: A Memoir by Park Jimin by decompositionbooks | Words: 34k | The world didn’t think it was necessary to give him a guide when it shoved all of these omega hormones at him, so here it is, Park Jimin’s handbook to dealing with heats, unrequited love, and Jeon Jungkook.

WOOH another classic! I live for jealous/protective!JK idk its just super cute. my fav ABO fic!!

two sides; same story by namjoone | Words: 12k | Okay, so maybe Jimin thinks his neighbor is hot.

A little.

Okay, maybe a lot.

haha ohhhh man i love mutual pining. they’re both totally dumb at the beginning of this and i live for it. also some hoottttttt ass smut. (bc i need jesus at this point)

Not a Girl by PinkBTS | Words: 8k | Jeongguk isn’t sure what he did in his previous life to deserve this but he probably screwed up big time...he’s kinda grateful though.

A story about Santa, assumptions and thick-rimmed glasses.

AHHHHH  this is so funny and awkward and hot and EVERYTHING. I live for frat!bangtan with my whole heart. 

Downpour by kikistiel (Kikai) | Words: 15k | Jimin doesn’t know what it is. But now, he’s not sure he’s ready for summer to be over just yet.

IM SCREAMING. This was almost poetically good (aka A+ writing oh my gerrrd). It’s kinda angsty too like a bit but its also so sweet i love it :( go read pls.

How to Seduce Your Dance Teacher by Jeon Jungkook by soranosuzu | Words: 5k | Currently there are a million thoughts racing through Jungkook’s brain, but two very prominent ones finally beat their way to the forefront of his mind. First, Jimin is hot as hell and Jungkook needs to find a way to get into his pants. Second (and maybe slightly more urgent than the first), Jungkook needs to find a way to prevent himself from popping a boner every time Jimin does that in the future and, more importantly, right now.

(aka AU in which Jungkook devises a plan to seduce his ridiculously hot dance teacher Jimin)

HELLL YEAH. that is all.

i like how desperate you seem (in the way you look at me) by fatal (cumrich) | Words: 71k WIP | Packs merge all the time. It’s survival, Jimin knows that, but what he’s not prepared for is the attention he’s getting from a certain Jeon Jungkook, the alpha’s son.

yeeesss we got some more ABO up in this biiiiihhcc. It’s not done yet, but i strongly urge you to read!! so goooood and the smut is A1.

Mostly Angst

The Bet by jonghyunslisterine | Words: 46k |  Where Jeon Jungkook makes a bet that he can get the notoriously single Park Jimin to sleep with him by the end of the semester. 

Needless to say, things don’t go exactly as planned.

Yes i had to include this lovely classic :) Still one of my favs and probably always will be *shrug*. I’m not usually an angst person but this is like the perfect dosage for me to handle lol. If you haven’t read it yet, what are you doing with your life honestly go do it lmao.

lost stars by pjungkook | Words: 25k | Park Jimin has another maknae in his life and Jeon Jungkook is completely losing it.

have you ever felt like your heart was being smushed under an eighteen wheeler and your chest was caving in? Yeah that was me during this fic. But it’s sososo good and i promise there’s still fluff (i cannot live through angst without fluff) so READ.

Falling for you again by Rose_gold715 | Words: 30k | Jungkook loses all memory of the last five years of his life.

Jimin is scared he will never love him again.

wow okay so this one was a tear-jerker. you sympathize with both JK and JM but you’re also sort of frustrated with them at the same time?? soso good, definitely give it a read.

serendipity (none of this is a coincidence) by nclnns | Words: 30k | Jimin feels like crying.

Because the boy -- Jeon Jungkook as he had learnt a week ago -- is the exact opposite of Jimin.

And he’s the person Jimin’s boyfriend has been cheating on him with.

or

In which Jimin finds out that Taehyung is cheating on him with a boy named Jeon Jungkook and in the quest to understand what went wrong, he ends up falling in love with said boy.

so i haven’t read this one in a few months but i remember it being one of the first KM fics i had ever bookmarked, so it must have hit me in some way. JK is a sweetie though from what i remember.

On Patrol by Ragi | Words: 129k| Officer Jeon has his eyes on Mr. Adorable. Officer Min has a strange neighbor he can’t seem to keep out of his life. Captain Kim finds comfort in his son’s homeroom teacher. 

Well, cops need some loving too, right?

Okay so this isn’t like suuuuper angsty but it’s also not smutty nor super fluffy either??? So idk where to put it but i think angst fits this most. I also laughed quite a bit during this so it has humor!! Tae is also like an 8 year-old kid LDJAFODJOA (ft. Sope and Namjin)

we’re not broken just bent by calipha | Words 16k | “You’ll die,” Jimin hisses and they’re so close now that his perfect illusion is broken. Jungkook can see his dark circles, can see Jimin’s lips, red and raw from biting.

“I did almost die in this house once, five years ago,” he whispers, watching as Jimin clenches his jaw but doesn’t look away. “I think I can handle more. I’m bigger and stronger now, see?” Jimin holds his gaze for two seconds before it tracks south to move down Jungkook’s body.

MY HARRY POTTER LOVIN ASS IS VERY SATISFIED. jimin is just a misunderstood bb and jungkook is trying SO HARD not to pine ajweklfkldf.