#this would have been up days ago but my writing program crashed and i lost and had to rewrite all of it

[varanere00]

Royal Beasts my take #7

Grian woke up feeling like Princess, Docs pet ender dragon had sat on him. And then the Hivemind had reshuffled his brain.

Prying his crusted shut eyes open and trying to shake the rust out of his limbs, he attempted to orient himself. He was laying on the edge of Cub's Bunny's nest, both his Vex barely visible inside.

His mind was a foggy mess. Thoughts came like extra thick sludge. He had no idea what day it was, let alone what time it was.

Vague memories of Names, of screaming magic and broken laughs drifted just out of reach.

He groaned, forcing his aching stiff limbs to haul him upright.

His magic screeched at him, flaring pain like he had just hit a huge deep bruise hard throughout his whole body. Got it, no magic for him in the near future. He figured it came from magic overuse.

Now somewhat upright, he could see his Vex, so wrapped up in one another that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. He gently nudged them awake.

"Time to get up my lovelies. Lets go get whatever meal its time for right now."

---

Scar had been on high alert since being woken up. He clung to Cub, expecting to be separated at any moment, expecting the brief mercy his summoner had granted him to end.

Nothing of the sort happened. Grian behaved as if nothing had happened. He was just as sweet to them, no matter their changed behavior, not caring that Scar would rather be plastered to Cub every moment he could, rather than be draped over Grians shoulders. Cub, who was here, was in his arms, in his magic, in his mind, was safe, was in his arms.

Scar wanted so bad to believe it.

To believe Grian really was his friend.

To believe that this time it would be different. Could be different.

That the nature of what he was wouldn't catch up to him.

He had learned his lesson though, even if it had taken him being minutes away from loosing his person-self to the overwhelming magic pulsing through him, demanding every last scrap he had. He had been reunited with Cub in the nick of time. Cub, who had been right all along, who Scar had almost gotten erased. When they could stand to be apart from each other again, Scar would give Cub everything he needed so he could be the downfall of their summoner, while Scar was the pretty thing, the distraction.

Right now they needed to hold each other more than they needed to be free. They had been clicking at each other almost nonstop, reassurances they were here, were safe. It wasn't enough. How could it be?

Grian was just another summoner in a long line of summoners they were unwittingly bound to and eventually killed off when they go the chance.

Grian was not their friend. Grian would hollow them out, the same way every other summoner had tried.

Scar could not trust Grian. No matter how much he wanted to.

So why did it feel like that thought made his soul cry?

---

Grians Vex were behaving differently. Almost as if they were wary of him. They were good at hiding it. The small flinches when he got too close, walked behind them. They always kept him in their field of view.

Grian didn't know why.

Granted, he did have a small, teensy gap in his memories. Just a few days. There's no way whatever he had done in those few days warranted this much caution. Cat and Cub Bunny stuck together whenever they could.

He had no idea why.

They hadn't even joined him in his nest that night, both Vex opting to sleep on the beds canopy.

Grian had brought them back to their enclosure that night.

The unsettling feeling of wrongness had clung to him like a particularly foul scent, robbing him of restful sleep that night.

Lace wings draped over blood haunted his dreams that night, empty eyes looking up at him from expressionless faces. Shattered emerald scattered over sun-baked sand.

He converted the unused Queens Study into a nest room for them the next day.

---

Grian was curled up on his couch, wrapped in blanket and with a whole tub of chocolate ice cream on his lap, even if the chocolate made his heart race like he'd had one too many espressos. Stupid bird heart.

He'd canceled court (No, not just for today Mumbo! Court is canceled forever!). He would be staying on this couch for the rest of his existence, thank you very much. The changed behavior of his Vex and his upcoming molt were straining his nerves, along with the fact that its been four days and his magic still ached from overuse when he tried to do more than the most basic things with it.

So he didn't care when he heard Doc's voice from the hall leading up to his rooms. Doc sometimes came over to do redstone, or hang out. He could do whatever. Grian wasn't the boss of him.

Grian certainly wasn't curious who Doc was talking to when he didn't recognize the voice. He certainly didn't pull on what little magic he had and open an Eye in the hallway next to Doc.

Where he found-

Was- was that?

his Vex? talking?

To Doc?

With words?

People words?

HOW??

At least Grian assumed they were people words. Do redstone words like compabobabols and flippity floopers and tickers count as people words? Grian didn't know.

How was his Vex, Bunny, Cub, his name was Cub, speaking to Doc about redstone, on Doc level redstone no less? In the entire almost 3 months he's had them, they had never spoken!

Giggled, sure, in their super creepy way. Chittered, with the occasional click when they seemed particularly happy about something.

But mostly they were silent, hovering behind him, or draped over him in Cats case without making a sound.

---

Screeching came from the door to Grians rooms up ahead, interrupting the quite frankly fascinating conversation on update suppression he'd been having with one of Grians Vex.

Cub, as he'd introduced himself when Doc had asked. In private of course, and after he assured them he would keep it to himself.

They were understandably wary. In the research he and the Hivemind had done on Vex after hearing reports of the two, it was rather evident that most summoners did not like it when their Vex had their own opinion, or even thoughts.

Doc may know for a fact that Grian would be delighted to learn they were sapient, but they didn't. Probably wouldn't believe him if he told them either.

He mostly had wanted to ask them if they needed anything. They had been hesitant to respond. Unsure if admitting to any needs would see those turned against them.

So he sat down with them and told them about Princess, his ender dragon. She was like them, a sapient pet, having the mental capabilities of a 6 year old.

He told them about the time she had grabbed him from a meeting with important foreign dignitaries, and absconded to her favorite perch on top of the Perimeter Flagpole with him. His husband Ren had been laughing so hard he could barely breath. It had taken over two hours of trying to bribe Princess with treats to let him down.

After that he made her a flying machine she could chase around the Perimeter airspace, with a treat for when she caught it. It came out whenever they held important meetings outdoors now.

He'd repeated his question then. If there was anything they needed. If Grian had done anything he needed to be smacked upside the head, or maybe thrown off a cliff for. He'd done that before, the pesky bird had unfortunately enjoyed it.

The look they gave each other at his second question had him sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose, and asking just what that idiot had done.

They still hadn't given him an answer.

Cub, as he'd introduced himself then, had asked about his redstone. Where to get some for himself. What kinds of redstone projects he did in the Perimeter.

Doc was more than happy to explain.

Which is what brought them here, in front of the pesky birds door, which had just burst open to reveal a disheveled Grian, in his favorite red jumper that he only allowed himself to wear when he felt like shit.

"Wh- Ho- Wha- HOW?" he stammered, gaping like a fish and pointing at Cub.

"I'm more than happy, to explain the basics of update suppression to you, but I think you may need just a little more knowledge on the basics of redstone first. Just a little more." Cubs heart rate had just spiked hard on Docs scans.

Speaking of heart rates, Grians was through the roof. Given that the brown smudges on his mouth came back as chocolate laced dairy, that was no surprise. Chocolate ice cream, if Doc had to guess.

"Grian, have you been eating chocolate? You know it makes you tachycardic." Doc shook his head in disapproval. At least chocolate jut gave Ren tummy cramps if he ate it.

"Forget the chocolate, HOW ARE YOU TALKING? How are you PEOPLE?!" The pesky bird showed no concern for his own health. Typical.

"Did you not know Vex are sapient Grian?" Doc asked. "That's very irresponsible of you, keeping pets without knowing their needs. What if you fed them something poisonous to them? Or mishandled their bond? They will die without those bonds you know. They need them and the magic they give to live. And of course they're people, what a silly thing to say. They look and behave like people, don't they?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNEW THEY WERE PEOPLE ALL ALONG AND DIDN'T TELL ME, HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW" Grian really needed to take it easy, Doc thought looking at his scans. All this could not be good for Grians already overworked heart. At least he wasn't plucking feathers yet.

"Well, did you ask them?" Never mind, the bird was reaching for the feathers of his aural wings. And screeching at unholy volumes. Then looks up.

"Wait, back up, they need the bonds to wHAT-"

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #16

Battle of the Dimmsonian

I want to highlight them specifically. Look at that FOP-style fairy boy! Baby's all grown up!

Jasmine and Winn are so ready to party at the museum sleepover.

Oh, they are SO ready for this (Also).

slifdj, Peri looking ahead, noticing Cosmo and Wanda in disguise, and screaming "MY PARENTS?!?"

What the heck, Fairywinkle-Cosmas? You left your son for 10k years? Why? Look at him; he's got anxiety!!!

Dev: I haven't talked to Hazel since our fight :'( I need to get to her. /apparently doesn't talk to her all day and now it's night and he's trying to scare people with ghosts for no reason

Removing the staff during the sleepover night (after a spooky presentation) seems like something a museum would totally do as a prank.

Peri has been onscreen for like 2 minutes and he's already sad inside.

-> Hey, I think he outgrew his fear of the dark!

Dev, I am begging you to make it clear to the audience what you're doing right now. This is not an apology. This is not close to what you said you were going to do earlier??

-> Confirmation Dev is Peri's first assignment, so my "high school trial run" lore hasn't been disproven yet. I can work with that in 'fic. We'll see if he says he's graduated.

-> I do have a fanfic set-up where he's going to do a trial program as Foop's partner when they're still in Spellementary, but I don't think this disproves that either since that's a very supervised experiment for him (It's their extracurricular).

I don't think I've said it, but I really enjoy the way this art style has been handling the hairstyles. These angles of Peri's swirl are really interesting.

Peri... Don't take this the wrong way, but if you can't handle Dev being mildly needy and pushy, you're not ready for the big leagues.

idk, Peri strikes me as WAY too overconfident. He showed up ready to go a couple episodes ago. This is the first time he's back onscreen, and this immediate crash on his end is just proof to me that his inexperienced little tail doesn't know what he's doing.

Peri is the guy who's super hype for kids because he thinks they'll be cute and fun, but he's unprepared for work and responsibility. I'm getting "Tries to avoid changing diapers and/or feels smug about how little housework he does" vibes.

-> What decade is he designed after? Cosmo was designed with 50s aesthetic and I feel like this is actually on-brand for attitudes during Peri's aesthetic parallel time period. lol.

-> It's not like Poof was doing the hard work of godparenting when he was a baby. This is new for him and probably different than he fondly remembers.

-> I looked it up and apparently suspenders made a comeback in the 1980s. I designed my teen Poof for the late 60s-early 70s (and he's my flower child), but it makes total sense that he'd be a little farther forward in time since Cosmo and Wanda weren't allowed to have kids for the first 10k years of their marriage.

- Yeah, I would look at this man and say he's giving me "macho 1980s breadwinner husband who has a fragile ego regarding his manliness and doesn't do his own laundry" energy. - Please tell me he started dating Goldie and she broke up with him because he's not good with stress and now he's clingy and wants her back; "He lost the pretty girl because he wouldn't pull his weight" would be the funniest possible direction to take their relationship - I might need to write a 'fic about Goldie showing up while Dev is out and she and Peri have a fight where he's groveling and begging and then Dev walks in and he's like "... Oh boy, I can't wait to have a business relationship with this guy."

Peri came to this party like "I grew up with Timmy Turner. My grandma teaches godparenting classes. I even did a trial run with Mrs. Crocker... I know the ropes! :)"

-> His crown did not know the ropes.

Diagnosed "would not take full custody in the divorce."

Peri, I cannot be any clearer that you can't behave this way around a neglected child right after establishing yourself as a trustworthy figure he can rely on. If this plot goes in the direction of Peri throwing in the towel (or snapping at Dev), I'm gonna crack up.

Like, at this point I am 100% expecting Peri to yell at Dev (maybe not this episode, but someday), and that's going to break this kid. I feel like Jorgen might get involved and separate them, unless Peri is desperate to "not have a failure on his record" or something (seeing as he seems embarrassed his parents know he's a godparent.

-> idk what's up with that yet. I'm genuinely confused. Peri, this is your first chance to see your parents since they dipped for 10k years. I can't get a read on your feelings. Are you angry? Did they invite you and you said No? How old were you? Did you grow up with Mama Cosma? Big Daddy? Boarding school? Inquiring minds need to know!

Maybe it's not been 10k years for him? Was he still existing in the slower-moving present day? Maybe Peri embarked on his own 10k-year trip? I'm puzzled.

-> I feeeeeeel like the time travel is a convenient plot device for the purpose of aging him up without jumping us forward to a more destroyed planet, and we're not going to get a straight answer about what happened with him, which is a shame.

Hmm. I suspect we're not going to delve into his backstory, but I'll hold out hope. Why throw that in there if you're not going to discuss it, though?

Did I miss something? Why does Dev think he doesn't need friends when earlier he wanted to talk to Hazel? Huh. I feel like there's a missing scene there. Hazel rejecting his attempt at an apology would've been helpful for me.

For some reason it's funny to me that the Tooth Fairy offered Peri a job, which he turned down. My brain immediately went Peri -> Cosmo is his dad -> Jorgen is Cosmo's distant relative but they refer to each other as cousins -> Tooth Fairy is Jorgen's wife. I wonder if they hung out together sometimes at like, extended family reunions or something.

-> von Strangles are big on family and Cosmo and Wanda kinda dipped out on theirs, so...

-> omfg, Mama Cosma is out there somewhere like that meme of the guy in the chair leaning over way far, head in her hands, because this is the 2nd time she lost her baby for 10k years. Left to get milk (Again).

He's so cute. I'm so glad to see him back in the series; I missed him so much. He's always been a favorite for me, which was largely based on my own 'fics, so it's really cool to see a character I love showing a wider range of personality onscreen.

HAZEL! If you weren't mad at Dev anymore, you should've told him! He's been miserable about you yelling at him without giving him a chance to share his side!!

His tushie cannot read minds!!

Dev is the kid that you want to get in a fight with because he's mean but then he looks at you like this and you're like " :| "

-> I hate that this is likely how Dale looked at Vicky once upon a time. Dev looks so much like his dad and now I'm like. "Yeah, she probably kicked him down the stairs."

Aww, reunion... <3

I really do like their color scheme and vibes. I've always thought Poof was a good blend of his parents (Good blend of smart, clean, and on top of things while also getting into trouble, holding petty grudges, and making bad or dumb decisions). I'm happy to see him and it's cool to see their hair designs and colors together.

I'm glad "Certifiable Super Sitter" wasn't his swan song from the franchise. It's nice to see a deeper take on his character <3

Patty Possums Party Playground

I'm glad they're making an effort to balance Hazel's Dev interactions with Jasmine and Winn. I keep wondering if they'll get sidelined. This episode seems to be about them, though.

Is the animatronic going to be run-down?

Winn is having the TIME of their life.

Cosmo: We're gonna do this without magic! Hazel: Isn't shrinking Wanda magic?

Immediate prediction: the possum mascot has been summoned to party with them and now she isn't going to let them leave. She'll get aggressive if they try.

Oh no, Cosmo just suggested Wanda use her wand to try getting his out of the claw machine. Is she about to blindly follow and stick it in there like when they were swallowed by a bear and Cosmo suggested dipping it in stomach acid to measure how deep it was and it dissolved? And she just... did it?

YES, sdlkfj. Never change, Wanda.

Nobody tell Gary and Betty there's a Smack-a-Mole game here.

The possum's singing a song about how the party never ends. Yeah, I think I called the plot.

-> Oh, I NAILED THAT!

They're so cute:

Hazel: Friendship isn't only about the moments you're together! It's also about holding each other in your hearts when you're apart! :) Dev, abandoned and confused since their fight: Hey. what.

Wanda dunking on friendship is very funny to me.

A Date to Remember

... Is this with Hazel's parents I assume?

-> Okay, maybe! That title card looks like it is. Also, waning crescent AGAIN? Y'know, the moons were so useful for my OG series episode timeline and I think some will have to be non-canon in New Wish.

I like how Cosmo and Wanda push their backs against each other the same way they used to dance. And I really appreciate how we seem to have a consistent floorplan for Hazel's apartment.

-> Okay, I treat "Cosmonopoly" as the first time they met so if I want to canonize New Wish, I have to un-canonize Cosmo's line about the diner being their first meeting spot, but I can't be mad since I pretty much never see anyone use "Cosmonopoly" for that.

Did Hazel just erase her parents' memories. Oh no, now they've never met! ... Are Cosmo and Wanda allowed to do that? It sounds like they just altered true love.

-> Hazel's parents look the same 11+ years ago as today. I'm a bit surprised by that.

CUPID! ... Oh, wow. His design's changed. I don't think I love it, but I guess it's cool they're doing unique shapes in this show since the OG had the same bodies all the time. I'm glad he's still a grump <3

-> Is he a lot older than Cosmo and Wanda? I'm surprised he aged(?) during normal time when they didn't during 10k years of travel? Is he old or just redesigned? Unclear.

I would make another "IS HE ALLOWED TO DO THAT?" joke here [Cupid trying to set Hazel's mom up with someone else] but... I mean, he's literally the only person who's allowed to do that.

egg baby.

It's hilarious that Hazel convinced her dad to listen to her by saying she's psychic. Of course the parascience scientist would go for that.

-> Note to self, he was interested in it at least 11 years ago.

Cosma confirmed to still be Cosmo's surname!

Cupid's bragging that he won because Brewster (sp?) is going to ask out Angela, but she's totally going to turn him down. Get wrecked, fool.

I am OBSESSED with the fact that Cupid knows all the humans' names. That is a man who does his job. Also I love how he keeps nipping at his bottom lip with his silly buck teeth.

-> I don't remember Cupid knowing people's names in the OG series (I don't think he has much opportunity to say them besides on the dating show in his debut) and now I want to see if that's always been his thing.

-> I'm pretty sure I remember Timmy was given an arrow with his name magically engraved on it at the end of "Love Struck Out," so... interesting.

[booobooothefool]

These wildfires grow and grow, until a brand new world takes shape

Randomly writing because this has been plaguing my thoughts COMPLETELY!

-(In an AU where Tony and my precious Natasha aren’t dead because my little heart still can’t accept it) After returning the infinity stones Steve went to the past to have that promised dance with Peggy only to realize that she’s not only happily married but has moved on from their past, and he should too. Steve returns to the future, deciding to retire and find another reason to his life.

*18+!!!*

WARNING: horrible grammar, NOT edited, bad English (please be nice I know my English is bad, it’s not my first language 🥺) non-con, breeding, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you get silly), includes subjects that may be disturbing to some! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!

...

After reversing the snap everyone came back, Tony lost his arm and spent over a year healing before he was able to fully recover. He gave up his Iron man days and decided to dedicate his life to his family, he still designed and made suits for the rest of the avengers as a hobby on the side. Natasha continued her work leading the avengers and keeping the peace.

Steve’s return back to the future came as a big surprise to everyone, but once he explained himself and how reality had hit him, making him realize that he didn’t belong in the past anymore, everyone understood and encouraged him to live life to the fullest now that he was retired. The thing was, Steven Grant Rogers didn’t know a life outside of being Captain America. He was almost 100+ years old and he spent most of his years (at least the ones outside of the ice) being a hero, being the person that everyone looked to with sparkling eyes and hope. Now that he was retired, Steve didn’t know who he was anymore. As a last redeeming resort, Steve decided to help Tony with his program that was designed to help those who had been dusted five years ago to rehabilitate back into society.

...

You had lost everything. When the snap took place five years ago you and your family were on a plane flying home from vacation, you had dusted with half of the population, but your whole family hadn’t and ended up dying in the plane crash after the pilots also dusted. One second you were on your way home, and the next you were waking up to the news that you had been gone for five years and your whole family was dead, some of your friends were dead too and those who were alive didn’t acknowledge your existence after moving on with their lives. Both of your parents had been the only child so you had no extended family to turn to, your home was occupied by a new family, your belongings all gone, even your bank account no longer existed, YOU no longer existed. You, along with all those who came back from the snap, had to go through the government to restart your lives, Tony Stark had made a program dedicated to helping people affected by the snap to help them re-enter the new world they were thrusted into.

Because so many people required help, they had to put you on a waitlist when people began to overwhelm the program and it’s funding. Tony Stark was not a poor man, but he still had a budget for this private program, the government also provided a public program to help people but Tony’s program had better benefits since it was privately funded. After you had gotten accepted, you were immediately moved into a condo that was paid for by the program, the next step was for your advisor to help you get out into the world and find a job, help you get back onto your feet until you were ready to really go off on your own and when you were fully ready, the condo would be given to you permanently and you would be left on your own so that they could move onto helping someone new from the waitlist.

Now here you were, waiting by the door for your assigned advisor to come for your mandatory monthly meeting that Tony Stark required everyone who was apart of his rehabilitation program to have. Your doorbell rang, signifying that your advisor was here for your meeting.

Steve Rogers smiled sweetly at you as you opened the door, “Good evening Y/N, may I come in?” You gestured for him to enter and quietly mumble a hello, Steve was a nice guy, but he still intimidated you. He stood at a full 6’1 while you stood at a measly few feet compared to him, he was built strongly and had this aura that screamed power. When you first met him you had wanted to switch advisors, but after getting to know him you realized that Steve was the best person you could have ever asked to help guide you. Steve understood how hard it could be for you to readapt considering he had to make up for a hundred years compared to the five that you had to catch up on. You were still on the more quiet side which Steve was very understanding of, you suffered from acute selective mutism that you had from when you were a child, although it had gotten better as you got older, your new situation didn’t help your anxiety and only caused your disorder to worsen again. As Steve came in and got situated, you got some tea from the kitchen for the two of you and sat down across from him.

“How are you doing Y/N? You haven’t been answering my emails, texts, or calls. I completely understand that your anxiety makes it harder for you but you also have to try and understand that in order for me to help you, for the program to work, you must also try and cooperate with me here. I don’t like being the bad guy but if you keep going the way you are now, we’ll have to drop you from the program and send your case to the government to put in the provided public program, there are still more people who are waiting for an open opportunity.” You fiddled with you fingers and bit the inside of your cheeks, you had been busy trying to apply for a job at the little coffee shop by the park that you frequented. You wanted to make a huge improvement before your next meeting with Steve to show him SOME kind of progress. You had lost track of time until you woke up at 2am last night in a cold sweat as your brain suddenly went off and you realized that Steve would be coming today for your scheduled monthly meeting.

“I’m sorry Steve, I just got distracted and lost track of things... I’ve been talking to the guy at the coffee shop I told you about...” You couldn’t look at him and instead opted to look at his socks. When Steve realized that you weren’t going to meet his eyes and look at him he let out a heavy sigh, he had been working with you for over almost half a year now. Your case was the longest that he has had so far, but Steve was insistent on helping you, he strongly advocated for you and talked personally to Tony about giving you a special circumstance especially with your worsening anxiety and with you having absolutely no one to go to. You felt horrible, Steve worked so hard to help you and here you were making a half assed apology.

Steve stood up and walked around the little table that separated the two of you in your decently sized living room. Steve stopped beside you, he stood there for a solid five minutes contemplating something while you held your breath, waiting for him to say something. Suddenly Steve reached down and grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head to look at him, you yelped in pain while your hands instinctively reached up to try and pry his hand away. “You’re telling me that you’ve been ignoring me because of a that little boy from the coffee shop?”

“Steve! What are you doing?! You’re hurting me!” You began to feel tears run down your face from the pain of Steve pulling your hair. He ignored your question and yanked your hair harder, dragging you from the couch to the floor; Steve got down and straddled you on the floor, your fight or flight went into action and you began to panic. Steve had always been so patient, he was a kind gentleman who never pushed you past your limits, this couldn’t possibly be the Steve you knew.

“I’ve been so patient, giving you all the time in the world so that you could get comfortable with me before I made a move, and here you were, trying to get closer to some LOWLIFE who works a dead end job!” Steve raged like a madman, he began to violently tear your clothing and attacked your upper chest, sucking and biting as if he wanted to eat you alive. You thrashed around, hoping to somehow free yourself from the giant built of pure muscle, but to no avail Steve didn’t show any signs of being phased by your blows and squirming.

“Steve stop! Please! We can talk this out! I won’t tell anyone about this! We can pretend this never happened!” Steve laughed darkly into the your neck and tore off your panties, feeling cold air hit your private made you freeze. This was really happening, Steve had already torn off the top of your shirt and ripped your bra open, exposing your breasts to his violating mouth. He was going to rape you and you could do nothing but lay here and take it. With you frozen, Steve took the opportunity to place both your hands together above your head, holding them both down with his left hand as he reach down with his right and release himself from his pants. He placed his cock along you clit and began to rub against it, stimulating your clit and making you wet. You turned your head away in shame and cried harder, how could your body find pleasure when this monster was doing this to you against your will.

“Oh god, I’ve always wanted to fuck this nice pussy, been thinking of how nice it’d feel to stretch you out, leave an imprint of my cock in this sweet pussy, MY pussy.” You felt a moan rising up your throat, you bit your tongue and scrunched up your face in hopes of swallowing down the horrible sound. “Ah, ah, ah, what a bad girl, denying your soon-to-be husband the heavenly sounds of your lewd moans. Look at you, my little whore, playing hard to get and acting all innocent.” Steve stopped grinding against your clit, his cock glistening with your juices.

“Please, don’t do this…it won’t fit, I’ve only ever experimented with a few fingers.” Your tears soaked your hair beside your head, you felt slight hope when Steve stopped and seemed to contemplate something.

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, I’m gonna mark what’s mine.” Taking you by surprise Steve rough kiss you on the lips, shoving his tongue into you mouth and exploring every inch of it. Your saliva mixing and dripping along the corners of your lips and into your tear soaked hair. You tried to release your hands from Steve’s grasp, but he ignored you, using his free hand to place himself at your hole and thrusting in with all his might. Your scream muffled by the his still assaulting tongue, you felt like you were being ripped apart. Steve gave you no time to adjust before he released your hands to grip your waist with both his large hands as he began to violently thrust his fat cock in and out of you.

With your hands now free, you began to try your best to hit him, but with his violent thrusts your body instinctively held onto his shoulders for support as he fucked your pussy senseless. He finally released your mouth, leaving your light headed from the long denial of air. Steve bit his way down your neck to where your shoulder met and began to bite your everywhere, leaving teethmarks and dark bruises as he trailed along. You felt your body begin to give in, pleasure overtaking the pain and your hips trying to meet his thrusts, your lewd moans escaping your mouth against your will. “You are mine from now on, you’re not allowed to ever talk to another person without my permission, got that y/n?!”

You couldn’t comprehend Steve’s words, you were too busy trying to fight your body’s natural response and remind yourself that Steve was raping you. Your silence made Steve angrier, making him fuck you harder, the head of his cock smashing your cervix to its limit. You threw your arms around Steve’s neck and pulled yourself up against him, you head fell back and you moaned loudly without realizing your words, “Yours!” Steve smiled darkly and grabbed the back of your neck to kiss you roughly, “All mine, I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, our baby. That way you can’t go back on your words y/n, and everyone will know you’re mine.”

You felt something growing in the pit of your stomach, you were gonna burst, but all you could do was hold onto Steve and take it as his cock fucked your pussy ruthlessly, imprinting the shape of it into your body. You buried your head into Steve’s neck and bit his shoulder as you felt yourself explode. Your head felt airy as Steve wrapped his arms around you and held you closer against him, you felt his cock twitch a few times inside you as his cum shot towards your vulnerable uterus. You both sat there for a while on the floor of your living room, you heaving for air while Steve looked fine. The euphoric pleasure wore off and reality set in, you felt your eyes water again as your realized what had happened. Steve kissed your forehead lightly, “Don’t cry baby, I’ll take care of you.” He placed his hand on your stomach and made you look up at him, “I’ll take care of both of you.” You sat there in the arms of your rapist and cried, there was nothing you could do and you both knew that. Steve had you where he wanted, and all that you could do was silently cry as you accepted your sealed fate.

…

Thank you for reading! Sorry if it was bad :,) but I had to get this out of my head! Most likely there’s a LOT of mistakes and a LOT of it doesn’t make sense because I wrote this at 2:39am instead of studying for my psychology mid-term :P this is also my first time ever writing and posting, so we’ll see how things work out :3 byeeeeee

[getoutofmyjaneway]

Enterprise is also Leaving Netflix. What Should you Watch Before it Boldly Goes Away

So let’s talk about Enterprise shall we? The black sheep of Trek, it is very different from what came before it. And you are right, Enterprise starts off slow.  R e a l l y    s l o w.  Do not let that stop you, Enterprise has a lot to offer! How you can watch depends on how much you have to put into the show:

Option 1 - Long Option

Enterprise is primarily comprised of story arcs in its third and fourth seasons. You can see Star Trek actively starting to transition its’ form of storytelling from usually one- or two-episode stories to the multi-episode to season-long story arcs we typically see in TV today. I will also not be the first to say that Enterprise really blossoms in those two seasons. Because of this, it is really hard to just jump into an episode in the middle of a story arc without being a little lost

Your best option is to watch all of the Xindi story arc and most of the story arcs in season 4.

Start at season 2 episode 26 The Expanse and watch all the way to season 4 episode 21 Terra Prime. This is the true series finally, do not watch These are the Voyages, it is one of the most insulting series finales, like worse than Seinfeld.

Please note that you can skip season 4 episodes 18 and 19 if you don’t like/ are annoyed by the Mirror Universe. These are for-fun episodes that I enjoyed, but I understand are not for everyone. Additionally, season 4 episodes 10 and 11 are not part of any broader story arc, but I would only skip episode 11, Observer Effect. I personally really like episode 10, Daedalus, which gives insight into the history of the Star Trek Universe.

This leaves you with anywhere from 42-46 episodes to watch. Now if that seems like a lot, don’t worry! You can always watch:

Option 2 - Just 10 Episodes

Season 1 Episode 13 - Dear Doctor

Ship's Doctor and resident non-human character Phlox is on Enterprise in a type of exchange program, with a human taking his place on a Denobulan vessel as they strive to learn more about each other's cultures. Phlox writes his human counterpart a 'Data's Day' style letter in which he recounts the adventure of the day. So what's on the menu today? Oh, I don't know, just the origination point of the Prime Directive, you might have heard of that before. 

Season 2 Episode 23 -  Regeneration

Regeneration is a follow-up to the movie, Star Trek First Contact. Yes. I am serious. A group of scientists encounters a crash site where they find Borg corpsickles and so kindly bring them back. This means that the Borg's attack at Wolf 359 was actually a predestination paradox created by the same man who leads the charge against the Borg at that very battle. Yikes. Overall though, a Borg episode was surprisingly appreciated, reminding us that this is overall still a part of the current Star Trek canon.

Season 2 Episode 24 -  First Flight

The point of Enterprise was to give us a glimpse into the early years of human space exploration. While we only saw so much, we did see the beginning of humans traveling at faster than warp speeds. As part of the NX program that spawned Enterprise herself, many tests had to be made to push the maximum possible speed. Of course, being the prolific piolet he was, Archer was there. Making drama.

Season 3 Episode 8 -  Twilight

Enterprise ran into an anomaly that slams into a corridor where Archer and T'Pol are. T'Pol becomes trapped and Archer frees her. This allowed her to escape, but he did not share her fate, being rendered unconscious by the same anomaly. That was 12 years ago. As a result of his injury, he can no long-term memories and Archer has to come to grips with what has been lost during that time. This is my favorite episode of Enterprise, that invokes shades of DS9's The Visitor and Voyager's Year of Hell. In my research, I found out that this was originally pitched as a Voyager story which is now so obvious. The relationship between Archer and T'Pol is never romantic, but you can see the true care they have for each other in their interactions here.

The “Romulan Interference” Arc

Season 4 Episode 12 - Babel One

Season 4 Episode 13 - United

Season 4 Episode 14 - The Aenar

I have decided to select this three-episode arc which is defined by Memory Alpha as the Romulan Interference Arc. By trying to turn the founding members of the federation against each other, the Romulans accidentally created one of their biggest rivals. Oops. Of course, the Romulans are not the main focus, where this really shines is the interplay between the different cultures of the founding races, the humans, Vulcans, Andorians, and Tellarites. You can see that this was originally planned to be long and drawn out, but they did a good job of condensing it into a nice little arc. Andorians are at their best in Enterprise and this is the most in-depth look that we see in the series. Star Trek Legend Jeffery Combs plays Shran and of course he is amazing, his chemistry with Archer is real. As a reoccurring character, this is not the first or last time we see Shran, but probably the most focused look we have on the character.

The “Xenophobic Humans” Arc

Season 4 Episode 3 - Home

Season 4 Episode 20 - Demons

Season 4 Episode 21 - Terra Prime

Another arc here to round off the list. I had originally only planned on placing episodes 20 and 21 here, but as there is setup done earlier in the season, episode 3, so I have also included it here as it contributes to a bigger part of the story. It makes sense after all that people have been through after the Xindi war, there would be pro-isolation groups. Heck, they probably were already there, but it makes sense that here, the tension would grow. It’s kind of ironic that after all of these struggles with alien races, the climax of the series sees a struggle not among aliens, but among humans. As a premise, this is what we all expected of Enterprise, a Coalition among explorers coming together to see what is beyond their shores. This is the true ending of Enterprise.

Again there are multiple ways to watch Enterprise, and again, these are just snippets. I know I left out some episodes that people will probably enjoy like The Expanse, Carbon Creek, or even the pilot Broken Bow (which in my opinion is the best pilot episode in the pre-reboot Star Trek era). This list was composed of episodes that would best give the Enterprise flavor, and in my opinion, the effect of an episode on Star Trek mythology was one of the biggest contributing factors. Would love to know what you think or if there are other episodes that should be added. 

[leiawritesstories]

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

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

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair. 

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job. 

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth. 

As if she knew anything her staff actually did. 

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together. 

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation. 

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself. 

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order. 

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English. 

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

~

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple. 

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved. 

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure. 

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved. 

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve. 

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind. 

“You broke both of your hearts” 

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

~

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice. 

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds. 

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city. 

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner. 

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed. 

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction. 

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth. 

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love.  We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. 

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages. 

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan. 

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof. 

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech. 

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying. 

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan. 

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow. 

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything. 

She was worthy of him. 

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified. 

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

~

Present day. 

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked. 

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch. 

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.” 

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

~

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

~

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

BESTIES!! PART 10 IS A HOT ONE!! Enjoy reading it as much as I did while writing it (and re-reading it because its probs one of my fav parts of the whole series) Love Always, Steph xx

Part 10 | parte dieci

warnings; heavy-petting, almost-smut, and a hot jack grealish - read at your own risk ;) word count; 2469. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 16/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Longing glances and shy smiles. That  was how Amelia and Ben both spent the next morning at Cobham together, prior to travelling to Stamford Bridge for the fourth match of the season against Aston Villa. The two had spent the rest of the evening relaxing on the couch; no additional kisses were shared between them as they had both agreed to keep things friendly, and no matter how hard Ben tried, Amelia had no intentions of going any further just yet. She had admitted to him something that she had never uttered out loud before: she still needed to work out how to exist without Fede.

While their situationship had been as unconventional as it was, it was still something that Amelia had grown to live with and love. Fede’s personality was unlike no other she had come across, perhaps closest to that of Jack Grealish. Friendly, flirtatious, charming, to the point where she found herself blushing sometimes - not many people had been able to make her shy enough to blush, but Fede had, and now Jack was too.

hot boy grealish

mornin mils, can’t wait to see ya today.

I’ll be the hot one with the good hair and even better ass.

hot gal mils

morning my dear jacky, looking forward to seeing you too.

Is Tyrone not playing?

His bum has always been my fav bum to stare at.

hot boy grealish

cut it out, you.

Banter-filled texts had been a constant stream of entertainment throughout the days leading up to the match. Jack has been preparing Amelia for the possibility of her losing, constantly picking on the girl for being an overachiever and saying that she needs to be brought down a few pegs, having been quite some time since her team had lost a match. Amelia however, with enough self-confidence to rival that of the villa boy, wouldn’t even let him finish his sentences. Far too superstitious for that to happen.

The girl believed in superstitions, and she was not about to tempt her fate. She even went so far as to have her family name and a small Italian flag embroidered onto the inside of her collar of every polo shirt she would wear for match days. She did it at Juventus and organised for it to be done to her new Chelsea uniform. It was a personal choice, something that happened to run in her family also, her father and brother also having the White family name stitched to the inside of their kit. It was a way of keeping them all tied together, no matter what side of the pitch they were on. The Italian flag was there to remind her of all that the country had given her: her grandparents and a chance to be brilliant at what she loves most.

Arriving at Stamford Bridge off of the team bus, Jorgi had insisted she sitwith him and they spoke exclusively in Italian for the 30-odd minute drive from Cobham. Despite Amelia purchasing a new car a few days prior, Jorgi insisted they continue to carpool. It worked out well because now Amelia wouldn’t have to catch the team bus back to the training ground after the match. She had spent the better part of an hour out on the pitch with some of the boys, running through the plays she had in mind before she ushered them back into the changeroom, allowing the Aston Villa men to have their time out on the grass.

______________________________________________________________

“I would know that bum anywhere.”

“Hello Jack, nice to see you too. I’ve been well thanks, so has my bum. I’ll let my face know you said hello, too,” I spoke as I stood up from my crouched position, where I had been tying my laces.

“Just kiddin love, actually no I'm not - I love your bum. But I am happy to see your beautiful face too!” Jack spoke, as he pulled me into a hug - wrapping both of his arms around my head, effectively pushing me further into his chest.

“You saw my face a couple days ago when we were on FaceTime!”

“I saw your bum a few days ago on FaceTimetoo, doesn’t mean I'm not happy to see it!”

“So that's why you like helping me do my laundry, so you can see my backside as I reach into the machine!”

“Now I’m not a religious man, but I have prayed to God a few times that you drop a sock or two riiiiiiight in front of the camera.” He laughed back at my shocked expression.

“Jack! You are ridiculous! Stop being such a perv! No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend” I play-shouted at him as I smacked him with my rolled up matchday program.

“I’m holding out for you, my love.”

“Always the joker, Jack. Get out there and prepare for the worst match of your season.”

“Dream on Mils, we’ve got this in the bag.”

“Sure thing Jacky, sure thing.”

I walked further up the tunnel towards the changeroom, getting ready to deliver my strategy talk to the boys.

“Stop looking at my ass, Grealish!” I shouted without turning around. The boisterous laugh that followed my exclamation was enough to know that I was correct. I didn’t need to turn around to be able to predict what the laddish lad was already doing.

60 minutes of football later.

Amelia was correct in saying that Chelsea were going to win the match, her quiet confidence only getting louder and louder as each premier league match went on. She was apprehensive at first to see if her tactics were going to work in the Prem, or if there was to be some compromise on skill due to the fast-paced nature of the game. So far, however, the Chelsea men were quick learners and even quicker to execute.

One thing she wasn’t prepared for, however, was the absolute worldie that Jack had scored just before half-time at the Bridge. There was an element of familiarity in his goal, recognising the play as one of her own. A small smile crossed  her face after he scored, running to celebrate with the away fans before jogging down past the bench and mouthing a quick “all you baby” at her as he moved back into position. She must have told him about it back when she was in Italy, knowing that there was no chance she would have exchanged her trade secrets to an enemy in the same league. It warmed her to know he paid enough attention to her to be able to practice that on his own with his team and execute it flawlessly in a live game.

What Amelia also wasn’t prepared for was for anyone else to recognise the play. Behind her on the bench sat an oddly-inquisitive Ben. He saw the tactic as it was playing out, recognising the run that Jack had to make to put himself in the box at the exact moment that John McGinn crossed the ball. Better yet, he saw Jack run down the sideline, nowhere near where he should have been, and mouth those words to Amelia. He wanted to know what was going on, was that why she wasn’t ready to commit to him?

Later that same evening.

After a hot shower, Amelia was curled up on the couch, ready to continue the docuseries she was watching the night before when she had an unexpected visitor pop round and confess his feelings to her. Thinking back on the night prior, she was happy that things ended up working out the way they did. Of course she wasn’t exactly thrilled with just how they happened but she could forgive the sweet boy. His intentions were pure and that's not something she was used to. It made her giddy to think about him, and about where things may go in the future.

A ring of her doorbell, almost to the exact hour that it had the night prior, made her get off her couch and walk down the small hall to the front door with a smirk on her face. Expecting to see the same brown-haired, blue-eyed boy that seemed to enjoy ringing her bell after hours. What she saw on the other side, however, was not what she was expecting.

“Jack, what on bloody God’s earth are you doing here?! You should be halfway back to Birmingham by now!”

“Are you gonna let me in love, it’s bloody cold out ‘ere tonight. Come on, shove over,” The slightly-less-than-6-foot-tall footballer commandeered her hallway, shutting the door behind him and locking it. This,  coupled with his overnight duffle bag hanging off his shoulder let Amelia know that he had no other plans but to stay with her.

“Sure, Jack, I suppose you can come in and spend the night crashing in my spare room.”

“Now now, don’t pretend that you’re not happy to see me, love. And a spare room? I believe you promised me a cuddle.”

Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t help but smile at the charming young man. Feeling the blush start to spread from her chest up her neck and across her cheeks, she quickly turned and walked into her kitchen, calling out over her shoulder to ask if he wanted a cup of tea. Feeling a sense of deja vu from the night before, she shook her head and reminded herself that this is nothing like the night before. How could it have been - there was no kissing involved.

“Was that a blush I saw? Do I make you nervous, Amelia?” Somehow, Jack had moved to be right behind the girl at her kitchen counter. Hands on her hips, chest to her back, lips to her ear. Amelia felt herself freeze, and then relax into his hands.

“Jack, please, I don’t think we should do this.”

“Why not, Mils? You can feel it, too. The tension through the screen’s enough to force me into a cold shower most nights.”

And just like the night before, the whistle of the kettle was the only piercing sound resonating around the townhouse. Whilst all she saw was truth behind Ben’s eyes, Jack's eyes were clouded with lust and affection. Just once, she could give in, right?

Leaning her head back to rest on his right shoulder, he attached his lips to the left side of her neck. Hands rolling from the side of her hips, to underneath her shirt, feeling the small navel piercing between his fingers and smirking.

“Didn’t take you for being the kind of girl to have a piercing, Mils,” He spoke into her collarbone, a small nip to the sensitive skin as the girl continued to focus on her breathing.

“Piercings, Jack. I have more than one” She breathlessly spoke, knowing exactly what she was doing now. The admission of having more than one piercing that he could not see was all of the consent Jack needed to continue his exploration of her body.

“Are you going to let me see them, darling?”

“If you’re lucky.”

“I’d say I'm the luckiest guy in the world right now, especially in this position.”

She was unsure how it had happened, but Jack had pressed her further into the countertop. With her back still to his chest, his waist was at the perfect height to press into the small of her back. His leg had settled between both of her own and his hands had found the bottom of her bralette and were gently caressing her rib cage, desperate to get closer to where he presumed her other piercing was.

“We shouldn’t be doing this Jack,” she breathed out into the air, hot air escaping her lungs to resemble what she felt brewing in the pit of her stomach. Desire.

“Why the bloody hell not?” he mumbled into her sweet spot, where her jaw met her neck.

“Because I've been here before. This is bad.” With her eyes shut, he continued his way down her neck. The fabric of her top shifted so he could slide one of her straps down her arm.

“If it's bad, why does it feel so good? '' Whilst his lips got to work on her collarbone, and his hand was busy toying with the elastic line of her bralette, his other hand began to fiddle with her fingers. Entwining them with his own, the kind of strength she needed to feel to make her next decisions.

Pushing back off of the counter, meaning her ass had pushed right into the part of his body where he wanted her most, Amelia turned around and faced Jack. The two stood there, slightly panting, staring at each other. Amelia being the kind of girl that she is, decided that she wanted to have a little slice of the dominance pie. Maintaining eye contact, she lifted the bottom of her t-shirt over her head and dropped in on the floor, that second piercing now very clearly visible through the sheer fabric of her bralette.

“Come on Jack, aren’t you an athlete? What’s got you so out of breath? I thought you’d be able to last a little longer than some heavy petting.” She taunted at the smirking man, wanting nothing more than to mess up his hair as he nestled himself between her thighs. That's exactly the position that they found themselves in not more than 5 minutes later, this time upstairs in her bedroom.

Throughout the multiple rounds of passion that the two so-called friends shared that night, not once had their lips touched. Of course, her lips had touched parts of him and he had definitely been all over a completely different set of lips a few times (and from a few different positions), but face to face, eye to eye, nose to nose - their lips had never met. That told Amelia enough to set her anxiety on fire. Had she just gotten involved with a carbon-copy of the man she left behind in Italy?

The regret seeped through her bones and settled into her heart by the time that the Villa boy had fallen asleep next to her. What had she done? This was not the girl Amelia wanted to be anymore. She was done being the girl that was loved only when the lights went out. She wanted love under the sun, she wanted breakfast by the river, double dates, family parties. She wanted the kind of love that you could never try and hide even if you wanted to. She knew that this wasn’t what Jack was able to offer her. She was grateful for their friendship, she truly was, he made her laugh more than most people but for the first time in a very long time, she was certain that that's all she wanted from him.

Part 11. | parte undicesima

[miyanom]

DEVILS PARADISE (part two)

MASTERLIST | JEAN KIRSTEIN X FEM!READER

synopsis: arriving in paradis, y/n slowly grows close to the devils she was taught to hate.

warnings: mentions of death, let me know if I need to add anything else!

notes: i feel like this chapter isn’t the best, but i wanted to write about y/n and jean a little and also write about y/n’s friendships with the people of Paradis before we head into trost arc.

word count: 2479

Shaky breaths fell from Y/N’s chapped lips as she held on tightly to Annie, keeping the unconscious girl from slipping off the Armoured Titan’s shoulder as he ran through the town beyond the wall.

Reiner had his hands raised to protect the others from the rubble of the gate as he crashed through, but as his hands moved to his sides once more, Y/N found her eyes widening.

Chaos. It was utter chaos.

Homes had been crushed from debris that went flying after the Colossal Titan kicked the gate, people had been crushed in attempts to escape, and mindless Titans were flooding into the city.

Y/N’s eyes continued to scan the area, only stopping as they fell onto a woman screaming for her husband who had been crushed beneath a Boulder.

With an arm still wrapped around Annie, Y/N used her other hand to pull them closer toward the armoured titan’s neck, fear coursing through her veins as the image of the crushed body weighed heavy in her mind.

The Marleyan’s words echoed through her head, reminding her of the sins of the Eldians; the sins that brought this destruction to them.

But Y/N couldn’t stop herself from questioning the things she had been taught as more screams filled the evening air.

Did they deserve it? Did they deserve it? Did they deserve it?

“Armin Arlert, from Shiganshina District, sir!” A blonde boy answered the training instructor.

If Y/N remembered correctly, it was Shiganshina that the warriors destroyed all those years ago. The day still weighed heavy on her heart, though she knew it was the only way.

What other choice did they have? If they were to go home to Marley without the Founding Titan, their terms would end prematurely.

“Yeah? That’s a stupid name. Your parents give you that?” Shadis questioned.

“My grandfather!”

“Arlert, what are you doing here?!”

“Trying to aid humanity’s victory!” Armin answered immediately.

When ordered to about face, Y/N’s eyes met Armin’s cerulean. Trying to aid humanity’s victory… humanity’s victory would only come when the devils were gone, that’s what Marley told them all.

The instructor passed by Y/N, barely sparing the girl even the smallest of glances as he moved down the row.

Jean Kirstein was the name Y/N heard as she tuned back into the initiation. His goal caused the girl to frown in distaste, and it took everything in her to not just roll her eyes.

To live a safe life in the interior, he had said.

The island devils truly were selfish, Y/N realised.

How could anyone hear about what happened in Shiganshina and choose to escape further into the walls? Do the devils not care about their own?

Would they rather save themselves than save the people they care for by ridding the world of Titans?

If Y/N were in their shoes, she knew what she would pick; the chance to save the people she cared about.

That’s why she was here, after all. It was why she went through the rigorous training of the warrior unit. All to make her family honorary Marleyans, to save them from the life of the Eldians.

She was here, pretending to be an island devil, pretending to be the thing she was taught to hate, all for her family.

The devils couldn’t say the same, they wanted to retreat further into the walls, into what they believed was safe.

If only they knew…

“Huh? You’re from Wall Maria, too?” Mina’s eyes widened slightly as she stared at Y/N, who sat across the table.

Y/N rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly as she nodded. It was a cover story the warriors had come up with a while ago, it made it easier for them to blend in when the survivors of Wall Maria found refuge in Wall Rose.

A family had unexpectedly taken Y/N in just a few months after the attack. It wasn’t Y/N’s idea to take them up on their offer, they were devils, after all.

But Reiner had urged her, he told her it could help them with their mission, that perhaps this family could provide more insight into life inside the walls.

He had been right.

The family helped Y/N understand what life was like for the devils of Paradis, though she’d never tell Reiner and the others just how much she had come to pity these people.

The family had lost their son when the armoured Titan broke through the inner gate, apparently he was a soldier in the Garrison.

Y/N spent nights upon nights thinking about that. Each night giving her more and more reasons to think that maybe the devils didn’t deserve what the warriors had been brought here to do.

That family had shown her kindness, a kindness she never saw from own mother. So maybe-

No. This is the only way, Y/N repeated to herself. This is the only way…

“Y/N?” Mina spoke up again, staring at her with concern painted across her visage. “Are you alright?”

“Ye.. yeah.” Y/N nodded, averting her gaze nervously. “I just- it’s not easy to think about what happened.”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie. Y/N hated thinking about the day she arrived inside the walls, whenever she remembered it, she remembered all those bodies she saw…

She remembered the screams and the blood, and the thought that maybe the Eldians were innocent and it was them who were the bad guys.

“That’s okay. I’m sorry for asking,” Mina let out a sigh, placing her hand over Y/N’s that rested on the table. “I’m-”

“It’s okay,” Y/N shook her head, quickly knocking Mina’s hand away as she stood up and grabbed her plate. “We should get going anyways, everyone’s cleaning up.”

As Y/N left the mess hall, she let out a frustrated sigh. No, that wasn’t suspicious at all…

Oddly enough, learning to use the odm gear the devils designed to kill Titans came fairly easy to Y/N. And before she knew it, they were moving onto hand-to-hand combat training.

When Y/N had been assigned to the mission to attack Paradis, she never expected she would join yet another military program. Not when the things they were learning for the first time here, were things she had known before she was even 10 years old.

“Go easy on the devils,” Reiner had warned them. “We don’t want suspicion to be drawn to us. Not now, we’re too close.”

Y/N hated to admit that he was right. Not about being close to the finish line, but about not wanting to draw suspicion to themselves.

But it was hard to remember his warning when she had been partnered with Jean Kirstein for training… She had known it on the day they met, and she knew it now, almost three years later.

Jean was a selfish, cocky bastard.

“Aw come on. You can do better than that.” His annoying laugh filled her ears as she quickly turned back to look at him, her eyes narrowing into a glare as her grip on the wooden knife tightened slightly. “By the time you take me down, I could’ve taken on at least eight people.”

“Yeah, why don’t you try testing that, Jean?” His name fell from her lips with venom as she chucked the knife in his direction, watching as he caught it with ease.

How much more annoying could he possibly get? Y/N asked herself.

Jean rolled his shoulders back in a stretch before getting into the correct stance, and within seconds, he was running at Y/N.

His eyes widened as the girl grabbed onto his arm, twisting herself around so her back was facing him as she kept pressure on his arm to keep the knife pointed away from her. This wasn’t a move they were taught by the trainers, he realised immediately.

He reached out for the knife with his other hand, though as soon as Y/N caught his movement, she kicked her left leg back, her foot slamming against his bottom calf causing his knee to buckle beneath him.

Putting all her strength into it, Y/N took advantage of Jean’s shaky footing, throwing him over her shoulder and watching as his back hit the dirt with a loud groan of pain falling from his lips.

With a smirk, she crouched down to pick up the knife, twirling it between her fingers as she glanced back at him.

He was still on the floor, staring up at her with wide eyes and a light blush painted across his cheeks. “Aw come on, Jean. You can do better than that,” she taunted.

Jean was ignoring her, Y/N realised as the trainees from the 104th settled down in the mess hall for dinner that night.

She didn’t blame him, she would be embarrassed too if she were in his shoes.

It wasn’t exactly his fault that she had been through this before, in a much harsher environment where the punishment for a failure like that was much worse than a simple comment made by their instructor.

Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her hand as her eyes scanned the dining hall, the sound of chatter filling the room. It wasn’t like this back in Marley, they would always eat in silence, in fear.

But in Paradis, those fears no longer weighed heavy on her shoulders. She no longer had to sleep with one eye open, terrified the Marleyans would decide to torch Liberio in the middle of the night.

She would never say it aloud, but maybe the devils were right to flee and hide here.

“-right, Y/N?” Christa’s voice snapped Y/N out of her thoughts, causing her to quickly turn around.

“Huh?”

“There she goes drifting off again,” Ymir commented, her arms crossed as she stared at Y/N. “With an attitude like that, you’ll become Titan chow the second you step outside these walls.”

Christa had quickly become Y/N’s friend within the first year of training, now that they were coming close to the end of the third and final year, Y/N realised that she had practically been inseparable from Ymir and Christa during training.

Maybe she had followed Reiner’s orders too quickly, he told them to blend in with the devils. Or maybe she had found peace within the unexpected kindness… it was wrong, that’s all she really knew.

She wasn’t supposed to be getting along with the island devils, she wasn’t supposed to call them her friends and wish they would be far away from Trost when the warriors plan comes to fruition.

But they were kind, they weren’t anything like how Marley described them to be.

A conflicted feeling settled in Y/N’s stomach once more as she averted her gaze, no longer able to look Christa and Ymir in the eyes without remembering what was to happen.

They didn’t deserve it, they didn’t deserve it.

Or did they? Their ancestors had committed atrocities against the entire world, after all.

But that was their ancestors, not them. Christa, Ymir, Mina, the family that had taken her in when they found out she was a so-called orphan from Wall Maria… they didn’t do what the Eldians of the past had done, they didn’t kill anyone, did they really deserve to pay for crimes they didn’t know about?

Y/N was snapped out of her thoughts once more as Ymir waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry,” Y/N muttered, glancing at the girls who sat at the table with her.

Christa stared back with a look of concern, while Ymir seemed to not care that much at all.

“Anyways,” Ymir looked back at Christa. “I was just telling Christa here all about the tension between you and that cocky bastard when you knocked him on his ass in training today.” The girl seemed to smirk slightly as her eyes flickered back to Y/N. “I didn’t realise blockhead two had a crush on-”

“And I was telling Ymir that it’s not like that. You would’ve told me, right, Y/N?” Christa asked, looking back and forth between her and Ymir as she awaited an answer.

Y/N couldn’t tell how Ymir had come to the conclusion that she and Jean were crushing on each other, not when they had nothing but bicker constantly. Maybe almost as much as Eren and Jean did, and everyone knew how bad that was.

“It’s not like that,” Y/N confirmed, beginning to pick at her breadroll. “He was being his usual annoying self, and I put him in his place.”

“Yeah, well, looked like he enjoys being put in his place,” Ymir teased. “If you know what I-”

“Ymir!” Christa squeaked out, staring at the taller girl with wide eyes. “You’re going to embarrass them.”

I can’t like Jean, or anybody for that matter, Y/N wished she could tell them.

How could she let herself fall for an island devil? It would be enough to get her killed when she returns to Marley. Retrieving the Founding Titan wouldn’t make up for the sin of loving a devil.

No, befriending them for the sake of the mission was one thing, but loving them?

And Jean of all people? She would never love him. Even if he was from Marley and she was allowed to fall for him, she wouldn’t.

“An easy life, deep inside the walls?” Eren spoke up, his eyes narrowed in Jean’s direction.

The tone of his voice was enough to break Y/N out of her thoughts as she realised the boys would undoubtedly get into another fight.

Her eyes flickered toward Reiner, a frown tugging at her lips. It reminded her too much of how Porco was always fighting Reiner back in Marley.

“Until five years ago, this was considered deep inside the walls,” Eren continued.

“What’s your point, Eren?” Jean crossed his arms.

“You don’t need to go to the interior.” Eren placed his cup on the table. “You’ve gone soft enough in your own head, Jean.”

Y/N hid her smile by resting her head in the palm of her head, though her smile faltered for a moment when her eyes met Jean’s, who had turned to look in her direction.

As Jean turned back toward Eren, the boy began speaking again. “Don’t you think it’s strange that we’re training to fight Titans, just to end up farther away from them?”

“Who cares? For my own sake, I hope they keep this stupid system,” Jean told him.

Right, the island devils were selfish people.

And Y/N was definitely not going to fall for Jean Kirstein. Not in a million years.

[hopelikethemoon]

Moonbeam (Ezra x Reader) [smut] {Werewolf AU}

Title: Moonbeam  Rating: Explicit  Length: 6,000 Warnings: Non-graphic description of bodily injury and smut (cunnilingus, doggy style sex, mentions of masturbation).   Reader Details: To the best of my knowledge, there are no references to Reader’s physical details, beyond being a bisexual woman. I tried my best to keep it as vague as possible.  Notes: So, this is the second lengthy Ezra fic I’ve written this month, but the only one that will see the light of day. Shout-out to @rzrcrst​ for pre-reading this for me.  Werewolves are my niche and I’m absolutely incapable of writing them without creating the lore around their existence. Ezra exudes big werewolf energy (P.S. Javier exudes big vampire energy) and since I’m not really in a fandom until I write a werewolf AU, I present you all with my very own version of space werewolves.  Depending on audience reactions, there might be more of this story to tell. 

Taglist:@princessbatears @djarin-junk @absurdthirst @hdlynn @legally-a-bastard @opheliaelysia @heather-lynn @sabinemorans @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons​ @pedrospunk​ @maybege​ @chews-erotically​ @katlikeme​ @lose-eels​ @youmeanmybrain​ @theindiealto​ @irishleesh93​

You had heard the rumors, but never once had you believed that they were true. A werewolf living on a moon? Werewolves were the stuff of fairytales. They weren’t real. 

They weren’t real. 

But someone who had come before you had clearly considered the potential. Why else had someone thought to set up a cleverly concealed steel trap?

The pain was overwhelming. Worse than anything you’d ever encountered before. You were lucky your leg hadn’t snapped in two — your heavy coveralls were your saving grace. 

You howled out in pain as you dropped to your knees, trying in vain to pry the trap off your leg. The sharp teeth had bit through the fabric of your coveralls and the dark stain forming told you everything you needed to know about your future. If you didn’t get the trap off soon, you were going to bleed out. 

And then you’d become a smorgasbord for whatever creatures lived on this moon. There had to be something terrifying in the forest that had convinced everyone to believe in werewolves. 

“Kriff.” You swore, your arms throbbing with effort as you tried yet again to free your leg from the trap. You dropped back onto your ass, before sinking down onto the soft mossy ground beneath you. 

At least the stars were out. You could see them through the bareboned trees as they swayed above you in the evening breeze. 

The pain wasn’t so bad at a certain point, most likely because of the blood loss. That would do it. That woozy, tingling sensation that had your vision blurring at the edges. 

A branch snapped nearby, sending a dull spike of nerves through you. You hadn’t made a study of the flora and fauna on the moon — but that certainly didn’t sound like a small creature. 

“Please don’t eat me.” You mumbled, tilting your head to look in the direction of the sound. The filtered moonlight from the crescent moon above barely illuminated the forest around you and your flashlight was just out of reach. 

You heard the sound of another branch snapping under foot, “Hello?” 

All men are beasts in their own right, but the man that stepped into your line of view seemed an unlikely candidate. 

“I do believe that trap was not set to ensnare one such as you,” He drawled out with a honey-sweet cadence as he moved towards you.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” You offered weakly, trying to sit up as he knelt beside you, but your vision blurred harshly and you sank back onto the ground. 

“How fortuitous you are that I take my evening stroll through this very copse of trees.” He mused, effortlessly freeing your leg from the steel trap. 

“How—“

“You have lost a considerable amount of blood, little lamb. I would be most obliged to offer shelter and succor. These woods are no place to remain alone. One can never know what creatures fresh blood may attract.”

You exhaled shakily as you stared up at the stars above you. He was right — you’d never make it back to your transport alone on your leg. “Promise not to kill me?” You cracked, tilting your head to look at him.

He flashed you a toothy grin, “I promise.” 

“What is your name?” You asked as he hoisted you into his arms, with surprising ease. 

“Ezra.” He told you, looking down at you. “And what is your name, little lamb?”

“Ezra.” You repeated softly, resting your cheek against his chest as he carried you through the forest. You gave him your own name, feeling a strange warmth wash through you when he repeated it back in that beguiling tone of his. 

“Am I right in my assumption that you are the occupant of the transport that arrived just two nights ago.” Ezra questioned quietly. 

“Depends on who is asking.” You jested lightly, “I am. Reconnaissance mission for a mining program.” 

“Ah,” His grip on you seemed to tighten. “Another greedy venture to strip the moon of its precious lunaxium?” 

“I can only assume.” You glanced up at him, “Above my pay grade.”

“You should leave within the week.” Ezra remarked, keeping his sharp gaze focused ahead of him. “It won’t be safe for you.”

“You don’t believe in that stupid story, do you?” You questioned, “Isn’t that just a tale to keep prospectors from coming here?”

“I once believed that.” Ezra muttered, before falling silent for the remainder of the journey to his humble abode. 

You had so many questions for your serendipitous savior, but he tended to your leg in relative silence and then left you to rest in his bed. 

From what you could tell, Ezra had fashioned a home for himself out of a crashed transport vessel that you could only assume had been his own at one time. Perhaps he’d been like you once upon a time, a drifter picking up odd jobs and landing in bad situations. 

Ezra was handsome. The moonlight hadn’t tricked you into thinking that — in the garish light of his bedroom, he was still just as striking. Warm eyes, long lashes, a mess of chestnut hair with a shock of blonde, and a wiry frame. 

How long had he been living on Lykaios? Had his vessel crashed on a wayward venture and he’d had no one to come looking for him? Not that anyone would come looking for you either. 

Maybe Shiva. They would’ve probably come looking for your corpse just to get what was owed to them. 

It was a damn miracle that Ezra had stumbled upon you. How had he even found you? The woods all looked the same. 

Sleep came slowly and fitfully. Despite the shot Ezra had given you, your leg was agonizingly painful if you moved at all. Fortunately, there were books within reach — well-loved, with worn pages. You wondered if they had been Ezra’s to start with, or if he’d found someone’s abandoned transport. 

He had excellent taste. 

You hadn’t seen a stack of Chaucer since you were much younger. His copy of Canterbury Tales had been opened so many times the spine wilted in your palm. 

Ezra announced himself with a short knock, before sliding open the durasteel door. “I expected you to be asleep. You had quite the evening, little lamb.”

“I tried.” You made a note of the page you were on before closing the book and sitting it aside on the bedside shelf. “I got distracted by… your collection of novels.”

He chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “I see you’re getting acquainted with my old oppo Chaucer.” 

“I’ll have you know, Chaucer is my friend.” You quipped, drumming your fingers against the cover of the book. “It was nice to retrace old lines.” 

“He’s an acquired taste,” Ezra tucked his hands behind his back and stepped into the room. “Youth may outrun the old, but not outwit.”

You smiled a little, “Earn what you can since everything’s for sale.” 

Ezra chuckled, shaking his head. “And how true that is.” He gestured grandly towards your leg, “But oftentimes it comes with folly.”

“Is that how you ended up here?” You questioned, “I wanted to ask you last night, but with everything...” 

He shrugged, dragging over a trunk and perching on the edge of it. “Five years ago I stood where you stand. They were looking for a new form of clean energy — lunaxium seemed like the answer.” Ezra pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, looking away from you then. “This place is filled with hidden dangers. Once you can put weight on your leg, I encourage you to leave.” 

“You could come with me.”

Ezra’s gaze snapped towards you, “No.” 

Your brows furrowed together, “Alright.” 

“I need to change your bandages,” Ezra exhaled heavily as he rose from the trunk, he turned his back to you as he moved to retrieve the roll of gauze from a shelf. 

Your eyes widened as you spotted a twisted scar that ran up the back of his neck into his hairline and vanished down the back of his shirt. You hadn’t noticed it last night while he fussed over you. 

“Ezra, why can’t you leave?” 

Ezra sighed heavily as he sat down on the foot of the bed, drawing your leg into his lap. “It’s home.” He answered simply, unwinding the bandages. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but this—“ He gestured around him. “It’s mine.” 

“And you haven’t gone stir crazy after five years?” You questioned, grimacing as he prodded at your wound. “I was gone for two months on a solo mission once and I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to Shiva again. Even if they did rob me blind during liar’s dice.” 

“You get used to solitude.” Ezra glanced at you briefly, before turning his attention to the task at hand. He cleaned the area around the wound, before wrapping fresh bandaging around it. “Once or twice a year, someone like yourself arrives and…”

“And the mythical werewolf eats them?” You jested, sinking back against the mattress as he laid your leg back down on the bed. 

“Something like that.” He offered dryly, eyeing at you warily. “There’s a full moon in eleven days. I would advise you not to wait around to discover whether or not it is simply lore.” 

Your brows knit together and you sat up, arms curled around your waist. “You say that like there’s a chance it is true. You’ve been here for five years… What have you seen?” 

“I have things I must attend to away from here.” Ezra said abruptly, “Rest and I’ll return in a few hours to escort you back to your transport.”

Ezra did little to assuage that sinking sensation that told you that maybe just maybe there were werewolves on Lykaios. 

“Before you settled here, what did you do?” You questioned, leaning into Ezra’s side as he kept a firm hand coiled around you for support. “Your transport didn’t offer many clues, outside of your exquisite taste in literature.”

 Ezra chuckled, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “I was a harvester. A damn good one, at that. But seasons get hard, tides turn, allegiances bend. Fell into a bit of a snare with an associate and had to dig my way out.” 

 “I think we’ve all been there before,” You shook your head. “I enjoy gambling. Nasty habit.” You admitted. “I wasn’t meant to be the one to come to Lykaois. My friend — the one I mentioned before — had been assigned to this mission. They lost it in a dicey bet with me.” 

 “Dicey?”

“What gambler plays honorably?” You countered. “I cheated.” 

“And this friend of yours was meant to come here instead?” 

You nodded, “Tried to win it back right up until the moment I took off.” Shiva had been furious that they’d lost and even more furious knowing that you hadn’t played fair. “I’ve heard the stories about Lykaois and I wanted to find out if they were true.”

“One shouldn’t go looking for the stuff of myth.” Ezra drawled out. “In my erstwhile profession, I had a certain predilection for danger. It can be damning.” 

“Look, I don’t mean to pry, but… is there a reason you can’t leave?” You stopped abruptly, causing him to stumble slightly. “My transport has life support for three. If there’s someone else you’ve got here — if that’s why you don’t want to leave.” 

You could feel Ezra’s gaze bore into your skin. 

“I’m not leaving.” You told him, when he made no attempt to answer your question. “I’ll take a day or two to rest, but I’m finishing what I’ve started.” 

“It’s not safe.” 

“Then why don’t you leave?” You pushed back. “If it’s so dangerous, why aren’t you trying to leave?”

Ezra worked his jaw slowly, before looking towards the sky and sighing heavily. “I’m not the only inhabitant on this moon. Some have been here for much longer than me and they…” He shook his head slowly. 

You curled your fingers around his forearm, turning to stare at him. “They’re what?” 

“Little lamb, be glad you were found by me and not one of them.” Ezra gritted out, holding your gaze. “Consider your luck and leave before it runs out.” 

He wasn’t going to relent. Whatever secrets Lykaois held, he wasn’t going to reveal them to you. 

“Will you at least let me give you a few of my books?” You questioned, squeezing his arm tight as you used him to support your weight. 

“Depends on what you’re offering.” Ezra retorted, “But we need to keep moving. You need to get your leg up.” 

 Ezra was entranced with your small collection of books. Like a man starved, he snatched up every book — flipping through its pages with reverence. You couldn’t imagine spending five years without getting your hands on a new book. 

You thought he would abruptly leave once he had you safely tucked into your transport — but he lingered. 

“Nothing in the world is single; all things by a law divine in one another's being mingle. Why not I with thine?” Ezra read, the words falling from his tongue with a richness that your mind had never been able to give them. 

“Shelley?” You questioned, tilting your head to try to get a look at the book he was holding. 

“Indeed.” He closed the book and held it to his chest. “Our dear friend Percy had quite a way with words. Overshadowed — and rightfully so — by his beloved wife.” 

“I haven’t been able to get my hands on Frankenstein. Not since I was maybe fourteen.” You admitted. 

Ezra snapped his fingers, “You should’ve spoken up, little lamb. Mary has kept me company on many lonely nights.”

“I will part with Percy,” You told him, hobbling towards him on your wounded leg. “But only if you are willing to part with Mary.” 

He hummed thoughtfully, still clutching the book to his chest. “I will have to consult with her.” Ezra told you with a soft smile, “I have no doubt that she is as tired of my company as anyone would be.” 

You reached out and covered his hand with yours, “I will let you reunite the couple for just one night. But you have to promise me that you’ll bring me Frankenstein.”

Ezra’s gaze lowered to where your hand was on his, a faint color rising in his cheeks. “Promise me you’ll leave once books have been exchanged.” He covered your hand with his other hand, squeezing gently. “If you stay, I won’t be able to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

“Me.” Ezra breathed out, his dark eyes setting on yours. “I will bring you lunaxium that you can take back to whomever hired you. Warn them from this place and forget it.” 

“It’s not that simple.” You found yourself leaning into him for support, “I have to complete testing and analysis. Reports. I can’t just take back a lump of lunaxium and hope for the best.”

A growl like sound rose up in the back of his throat, “Then I’ll do the reports for you. I know more than I ever cared to know of lunaxium and this godsforsaken rock. You are not to venture beyond this transport.”

You pulled your hand away from his, “I’ll do as I please, thank you.” 

Ezra gritted his teeth, “Do you have a death wish? Now isn’t the time for obstinance. Not this close to a full moon.” 

You blinked at him, “Are you…?”

His expression faltered, fingers twitching against the book before he held it out to you, “Keep it and leave tonight. Please.” 

“No.” You shook your head, “I want to know.” 

“Among these stories,” He gestured to your shelf of books, “I’m afraid it’s an unimpressive tale.”

“I’m always looking to hear new stories.” You told him, grimacing as you put too much weight down on your leg. “Shit.”

“Please sit,” Ezra urged, moving swiftly to curl his arm around your waist as he guided you towards the makeshift sofa you’d made from a weapon crate and oversized pillows. 

He sank down onto the opposite end, hands covering his face as he let out a heavy sigh. “Five years ago, I was just like you. Starry-eyed, devil-may-care.”

“Is that how you see me?”

“Yes.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “I came here looking for lunaxium like every ill-fated prospector before me. The rumors, the legend, the myth — they made for a tantalizing adventure.” His expression sobered as he stared straight ahead. “It’s painful. Muscles tear, bones shatter, skin stretches.”

Your heart clenched and your stomach roiled at the thought. 

“They say the first was a corruption. There are wolves among us, lurking beyond the trees — fearful in their own right of what looms above them. Someone played with fate and made a monster that even Shelley couldn’t have imagined. Lunaxium has no effect on humans, but it calms the beast for awhile.”

Without even thinking about it, you carefully shifted onto your good knee, letting your leg rest over the side of the sofa as you leaned towards Ezra. “This scar.” You said as you gingerly brushed your fingers over the back of his neck. 

He tensed, fingers clenching and unclenching in his lap. “I was attacked on my second night here.” He confessed, exhaling slowly. “Forgive me, little lamb. It has been a right smart spell since I have felt another’s touch.”

“You shouldn’t have to live like that, Ezra.” You whispered, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Isolating yourself… Maybe there’s a cure.”

“I can’t leave Lykaois.” He admitted, closing his eyes as he relaxed under the gentle touch of your fingers. “We’re reliant on the lunaxium and whatever this moon is cursed with. I would go mad.”

“Has anyone ever tried to leave?”

“There are stories.” Ezra turned to look at you. “I appreciate your offer. If it weren’t for what I’ve become, I would accept it without hesitation. But I would rather perish in the solitude of my transport than lose my mind somewhere among the stars.”

You trailed your fingers from his hair, along the curve of his jaw. “I could come back.”

“And put yourself in danger twice over?”

“I put myself in danger every time I venture out on a harvest with a ragtag team that might turn their weapons on me. Life is a risk, Ezra.” You held his gaze as you brushed your thumb over his bottom lip. “I can be your connection to the world you’ve lost. Name it, anything — I’ll bring it back here to you.”

“It’s dangerous.” Ezra seemed compelled by the offer. “The others… they’ve been here long enough to lose what’s left of their humanity.”

“Then protect me.” You brushed your fingers through the hair that fell against his forehead. 

“There’s so much I miss,” He admitted, his expression matching the way his voice broke as he held your gaze. “Five years… it’s a lifetime to spend alone.” He curled his fingers around your hand, rubbing his thumb against the center of your palm. “I don’t want you to risk yourself for me.” 

“I’m not afraid.” You told him, and as foolish as it was — you weren’t. 

Ezra’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips and your breath caught somewhere in the back of your throat when he started to lean towards you.  

He wasn’t the only one who had gone years without knowing a lover’s touch. You played things close to the chest, avoided anything that could ensnare you — except for him. 

For all of his warm charm, there was an underlying current of danger that had you feeling like a moth to the flame. He was a monster. A creature made from a curse you hadn’t even believed in.  

“Ezra.” You breathed out, leaning in until your nose brushed against his. 

He petted his fingers over your cheek as his breath mingled with yours, “You’re hurt.” 

“It’s just my leg.” Your lips were a hair’s breadth away from his, “I think we both need this.” 

Ezra curled his fingers around the back of your head as his lips crashed against yours. You groaned against his lips and his tongue took the opportunity to slip into your mouth, curling against yours. 

He kissed like a man possessed, desperate and all consuming. He hauled you into his lap like you weighed nothing, his hands clawing at your back, your ass, your arms — anywhere he could reach. 

He was starved for a connection like this. You had sensed it in the way he gravitated towards you, the way he lingered, the gentle touches as he mended your leg. 

You hissed softly as you shifted your weight in his lap, trying not to put pressure on your leg, but it was hard not to in that position. 

Ezra cupped your cheek, drawing your focus to his face as his other hand curled tight around your hip. “Do you trust me, little lamb?” He questioned, waiting until you nodded before he started to guide you back lengthways on the sofa. 

You scraped your fingernails over his scalp as you slid your fingers through his hair. His knee slotted in between your thighs as he draped himself over you. 

Greedy hands grabbed at the back of his shirt, pulling it up to reveal new skin to touch. He was touch starved. Every brush of your fingers against his untouched skin made him rut against your thigh. 

Ezra’s mouth worked down the column of your throat, teeth lightly scraping as his tongue darted out to taste your skin. His own hands sliding under your shirt, skimming over your ribs. 

You’d missed the feeling of large, rough hands against your skin. It had been more than a few cycles since you’d fallen into bed with a man. A year, maybe two, since you’d been with anyone at all. 

“Ezra.” You breathed out as his mouth moved over your covered breast, his tongue seeking out your nipple through the soft fabric. 

His eyes snapped to meet yours, pupils blown with arousal as he let out a ragged breath. “I can smell you.” Ezra murmured, his tongue flicking out to tease the peak of your nipple, the fabric darkened from his mouth. “You’re soaked, aren’t you little lamb?” He questioned, a hand wandering down your side, curling around your thigh. 

You felt your chest and cheeks burn with a heady mix of arousal and embarrassment. You were slick. You could feel your underwear clinging to your cunt, desire fueled solely by the man crowded onto the sofa with you. 

“In my bed,” Ezra whispered, untangling the hand you had in his hair. He brought your hand to his lips, inhaling deeply before wrapping his lips around your first two fingers. 

An unabashed moan escaped you, your hips lifting off the sofa as you ground yourself against his knee. You should’ve been ashamed — he had known that you’d tried to put yourself to sleep by burying your face in his pillow and your hand between your thighs. 

Ezra released your fingers with a wet pop, his nostrils flaring as he held your gaze. “You didn’t come, did you? Did la petite mort evade you?” 

“Yes.” You whispered, tracing your dampened fingers over his scruffy cheek. “I was so close, but it wasn’t enough.” 

He smirked at you as he pressed his knee firmly against you. “May I?”

“Please.” You nodded, sinking back against the sofa as Ezra moved down your body. Skilled fingers worked at the fastenings of your pants, peeling the heavy fabric down your thighs before tossing them aside. 

He inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of you, “Sit up, little lamb.” Ezra told you, sinking onto the ground in front of you. “Look at you.” He drawled as your thighs parted, your injured leg draped over his shoulder. 

You gasped quietly as he stroked his thumb over the damp spot on your underwear, barely brushing over your clit — but even that mere touch was enough to make you tremble. 

“Did you think of me?” Ezra questioned, peeling the fabric to the side, sweeping his fingers between your slick folds. 

“Maybe.” You retorted, biting down on your bottom lip as you watched him lick your arousal from his fingers. 

A quiet growl rose up the back of his throat as he leaned in between your thighs. He held your underwear to the side as he lapped at you, his tongue sweeping between your folds. 

Your fingers slid into his hair, grip tightening as he traced the tip of his tongue over your clit. 

“Do you need these?” Ezra mumbled, tugging at your underwear. 

“No. No.” You shook your head, pitching your hips towards him. 

Ezra effortlessly tore away the crotch of your underwear, his mouth descending upon your tender flesh. His tongue delved between your folds, thrusting into your slick core. He grabbed at your thigh, holding you steady as he turned his attention to your clit. 

You cried out as he wrapped his lips around that throbbing bundle of nerves. He sucked lightly at it, swirling his tongue over it as his fingers pressed into your cunt. 

He didn’t let up, his tongue working over your clit as he worked his fingers in and out of you. His fingers were deliciously thick, dragging in and out of you, brushing over that sweet spot within you that made your entire core quake. 

Ezra was good. 

His name was heavy on your tongue as you shattered, your inner walls clenching around his fingers, thighs trapping his face between your legs. 

“I need…” You panted out, breath hitching as he curled his fingers within you. “Fuck!” You shouted, nearly ripping his hair out as you felt a dam break as your vision blurred from the sudden burst of molten desire. Ezra was undeterred, his tongue sweeping up every drop of you. 

“More.” You urged, writhing beneath him. “Ezra, please.” 

“I might hurt you.” Ezra warned you, dragging his hands down your thighs as he nipped at the soft flesh of your inner thigh. “I don’t… I don’t know if I control myself.” 

“Forget about my leg,” You tugged at his hair. “And fuck me.” 

Ezra squeezed your hip and barked out, “On your knees.” 

You waited until he let go of you before you gracelessly flopping over on the sofa, knees planted firmly on the cushion as you grabbed at the metal shaft that made up the back of the sofa. 

“You smell so fucking good like this,” Ezra breathed out, hands sliding over your bare hips as he crowded close to you. “It’s been so long.” He pressed his lips to the back of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. 

“Same.” You laughed breathlessly, reaching behind you to grab at his hair. “I don’t break easy.” 

“You’ve never fucked a werewolf before.” Ezra murmured, curling his fingers loosely around your throat, keeping you pinned back against his chest as his cock slid between your oversensitive folds. “Have you?”

“Not yet.” You gritted out, curling your fingers around his forearm, thankful that he was able to keep you upright. He was strong, but the fingers wrapped around your throat were gentle. 

The head of his cock caught against your entrance and Ezra’s hips bucked forward, pressing into you. 

You moaned, completely caught up in the sensation of his thick cock filling you. The stretch was just this side of too much — especially in this angle. 

Ezra pulled back, his cock nearly slipping from you entirely before slamming back into you. His thrusts were brutal — all that strength and power that was hidden in his wiry build. He was reaching spots no one else had ever hit. 

He released his tight grip on your hip, slipping his hand between your thighs to stroke your aching clit. You clenched around him in response, making him feel even thicker as he drove into you. Again and again. 

Your nails bit into his forearm, leaving crescent moon shapes in his skin as you clung to him. You were so close, perched right on the precipice of another orgasm. 

“Come.” Ezra’s fingers curled around your jaw, his lips close to your ear. “I want to feel you come. The sweet clench of your cunt around my cock.” He mouthed a row of kisses down your neck, growling against the crook of your neck as your body obeyed him. 

He didn’t relent, even as your body pulsed around his cock. “Fuck.” He grunted out, his teeth scraping your skin. 

“Ezra.” You moaned out, your eyes falling closed as you basked in the overwhelming sensation of him fucking into you. 

His grip loosened at your jaw as he started to slide out of you, but you reached behind you, grabbing at his ass — desperately trying to keep him right there. 

Something snapped. Some frayed cord of control that he had been clinging to. 

You grabbed at the back of the sofa for support as he roughly grabbed at your hips. He bottomed out once, twice, three times before he growled out your name and came. 

Ezra curled his arm around your waist, keeping you pinned to him as he rearranged the two of you. He kept the softening length of his cock buried within you as he sank down onto the sofa with you resting back against his chest. 

“You’re very strong,” You mumbled, scratching your nails through the hair on his forearm as you looked down at the arm he had tightly curled around you. 

He huffed, a throaty chuckle escaping him as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “One perk of this damnable curse.” He brushed his thumb over your stomach gently. 

“Is the sex a perk too?” You questioned, closing your eyes as you leaned back against him. “Because, I’m not sure I want to leave at all now.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Ezra kissed your shoulder. “I’ve kept my distance. From the others.” He sighed heavily. “You don’t want to become like me, little lamb.”

“I never said that I do.” You pointed out. 

“No, I suppose you didn’t.” He shifted beneath you, whispering a quick apology when you whimpered at the movement. 

“I’m okay.” You promised, trailing your fingers up the side of his thigh. “Overwhelmed.”

“Two days.”

“Hmm?”

“You can safely stay for two more days, but then you must leave. It gets harder to maintain this the nearer we draw to the full moon.” Ezra told you, nuzzling at the crook of your neck. 

“Two days.” You agreed solemnly. 

Ezra returned just after nightfall with a stack of research notes and his well-loved copy of Frankenstein. 

“Did you know she dedicated herself to getting her husband’s works published.” You mused, looking up from the notes on lunaxium to watch Ezra as he consumed Percy’s book of poems. 

“Hmm?”

“Mary.” You explained. “As accomplished as she was, she also worked to ensure her husband’s writing would be read.”

“Indeed.” Ezra tucked the red ribbon into the page he was reading and sat it aside. “I believe their romance blossomed on her mother’s grave, no? A rather odd pair.”

“His works are dreadfully romantic, for such a macabre couple.” You pointed out, flipping over another page of notes, copying down a comment on your own notations. 

“The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?” Ezra recited, drumming his fingers against the cover. “I had forgotten that was dear Percy.” He sank back against the wall, pushing fingers through his unruly hair. “I miss the sea.” 

“I’d bring it back in a bottle if I could.” You told him, chewing on your bottom lip. “I meant what I said before. I can come back.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, moonbeam.” He let the word slip off his tongue like it was sugar-sweet. “You will grow bored of the to-and-fro.” He pursed his lips. “Though I am much appreciative of the offer. You should go back to your friends.” 

“I have one friend in this galaxy Ezra and oftentimes I’m certain they want to ring my neck.” You shook your head. “You deserve to have a friend too.” 

“I will never be able to leave,” He reminded you. “And you can never stay.”

“There’s still an in-between.” Your brows rose hopefully. “A new moon, perhaps? When the moon is there, but not visible.”

“You’re persistent.”

“I’ve been told that before.” You smirked a little. “What would you like me to bring back when I return after the full moon?”

Ezra exhaled heavily, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I would be forever indebted to you if you might get your hands on a copy of War & Peace. Dreadfully long, but I hunger for some longevity in my literature.”

“Done.” 

He snapped his fingers, “Cheese.” 

You arched a brow. “I have cheese.”

“Real cheese?” Ezra corrected. “That wretched aero cheese is nauseating.” He blanched, watching you as you rose from your seat. 

You hobbled out of the room, into the corridor where the hyperfreeze unit was mounted in the interior wall beside the coolant system. You returned moments later with a block of Reggianito. 

“You’re in luck.” You said, sinking down onto the floor beside him. “I have a hook-up on Sector Block G7.” 

Ezra broke off a piece and popped it into his mouth, sinking back against the wall with a satisfied moan. “It will be safe for you to return in a fortnight.” 

You slapped his leg playfully, “You’ll let me return if I bring cheese?”

He grinned and continued. “If you come then, you’ll have a fortnight to stay, should you choose to.” 

“That should give me enough time to find War & Peace for you and settle my debts.” 

Ezra took another bite of cheese, before passing it back to you. “Do they still make those honeysticks?” He questioned. “Little tubes with honey collected from…” He squinted, “I can’t remember the planet.”

“I can look.” You wrapped the cheese back in the cloth, before sitting it aside. “How will you be when I return?” You questioned. 

“A little worse for wear,” Ezra shrugged a shoulder, resting his hand on your thigh. “The lunaxium helps.”

“Is it… is it like a drug?”

“I suppose.” Ezra dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “There’s this hunger,” He explained, knocking his fist against his sternum. “This clawing sensation. It gets worse closer to the full moon. I lose my mind.” He shook his head. “I tried to wean myself off two years ago. Just to feel something.”

“What happened?” You rested your hand over his. 

“It triggered the beast.” He answered with a frown. “Middle of the cycle and violent.” Ezra tilted his head to look at you. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t.” You shook your head slowly, interlacing your fingers with his. “Maybe this will be good for you. Help you keep your humanity.”

“How so?”

“The others, the ones that were already here.” Your brows furrowed together as you turned to stare at him, “Did they lose their humanity because they lost touch with other humans?”

Ezra blinked, “You, moonbeam, are a clever one.”

“I read a lot.” You smiled at him, “And you’re  in luck — I have always loved monster stories.”

[pagingevilspawn]

Would you please write a fic about alex behaviour with children like the way he comforts them or help them through?

heart of gold

hey there! i’m not gonna lie when i say that this prompt took me forever to figure out, but when i did i was super excited! 

this is mainly Alex centric with a bit of jolex added in (obviously). i hope you like it!

___

Of all people to notice Alex Karev’s strange ability to work well with children first, no one would’ve expected it to be Cristina Yang. 

It was fairly early in their intern year, and both she and Karev were on the pediatrics rotation with Dr. Keith, someone who they could both agree was an arrogant son of a bitch that thought way too highly of himself for his own good. 

They’d been trailing behind him like lost puppies all day, listening to him go on and on while he talked to the patient’s families, not even bothering to ask his interns any questions. He always thought that interns were a waste of time and space. He’s much rather have at least a third year resident on his service, but no such luck. They felt like crap and both wanted to kick the guy in the ass, but knew that the only thing that would do is get them knocked out of the program. 

Six hours into their shift, the two were about to head to the cafeteria for a much desired lunch break when their pagers rang out, loud groans escaping their mouths at the noise they had come to detest the last couple of weeks. 

All Alex really wanted was a slice of the hospital’s pizza. Granted, the crust tasted like cardboard, the cheese was old, and the sauce had no flavor, but he was craving it like crazy. He hadn’t gone out for groceries recently, so the only thing that was stocked in the shelves of his small apartment was cereal, some oatmeal, and off brand, nearly expired crackers that he had since he finished med school a couple of months ago. He had --for some unknown reason-- shoved them into a backpack that had made it with him as he traveled from Iowa to Washington, completely untouched. 

With a huff he turns on his heel and makes his way to the pit where he was being paged, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the nurse he disrespected on his first day, along with the ones he’d slept with and hadn’t called back. He had a pretty large list of nurses who didn’t like him, and he didn’t feel like making that list any longer. Not today, at least. 

Keith instructed him to go cast an arm for the seven year old in bed six, while Yang was told to go stitch up the cut on the little girl in bed two. 

When Alex was done he passed by Yang’s area, watching as she was trying to calm down the little girl who couldn’t be more than five. The girl had tears streaming down her face and was nuzzled into the mom’s chest. The mother was glaring at the female doctor, who was saying something Alex could make out as “it’s not even scary, it’s just a needle.” 

All he really wanted to do was get that damn pizza slice, and he had every intention of doing so, but seeing Yang be absolutely hopeless at getting anywhere with the little girl, he felt a bit of sympathy-- not for his fellow intern, but for the kid. 

With a sigh he strides over to the bed, watching as the raven head’s mouth opens to speak, cutting her off immediately. “Let me handle this.” he says, reaching to grab the needle from her head. 

Cristina glares at him, her expression turning into one of disgust. No way was she going to let Evil Spawn steal her patient, no matter how much she wished she’d be doing anything else. 

“Karev-”

“--Yang!” he cuts her off sharply, plucking the needle from her hand and bumping her out of the way. Not the nicest thing to do, but she was practically terrifying the little girl. There was no way she would trust the doctor now. 

His coworker scoffs, huffing a ‘fine’ before she goes to stand back and watch the scene, more than eager to watch the man fail. What good could he do? The girl was crying the second she had taken the disinfectant out. 

Alex pulls up a chair, grabbing the attention of the little girl, who looks up from her mother’s chest for a second, only to dive back in right after. 

“Hey kid, my name’s Doctor Karev. You mind telling me your’s?” he asks gently, slipping on a pair of gloves and flashing a signature crooked grin. 

The girl makes eye contact warily, slightly unlatching from her mom's tight hold at the sight of the man’s smile. The other doctor looked super serious, it was kind of scary. 

“Piper.” she answers, wiping the tears from under her eyes, the mom flashing him a grateful smile. 

“Hey Piper.” he grins. “I see you got hurt up there. What happened?” he wettens the pad with disinfectant, keeping his eyes on the little blonde, knowing it would mean less questions if she was focused on his face. 

“I was jumping on the couch and then I fell and hit the table.” she explains, Alex inspecting the cut to see if her story was reliable. He knew firsthand what it was like to come up with excuses for the bruises on your face, and wanted to make sure that she wasn’t just trying to cover up for something else that happened. 

Luckily, the combination of the authenticity of the bruise and the level of trust the daughter had in her mom let him know that she really did do what she said. He knew at some point he was gonna need to not assume the worst in every parent that came in with an injured kid, but the wound was still fresh for him, and it would take some time to heal-- a long time.

“Well then Piper, I’m gonna need to clean your cut, but it’s gonna sting a bit. Is that okay?” he asks her, her green eyes widening, but eventually nodding. The doctor seemed nice enough. 

He cleans the wound, turning back at the girl when he pulls out a needle, watching as her face begins to look panicked. “Hey, it’s okay.” he reassures her. His eyes dart around, noticing a backpack that sat in the corner, decorated with a multitude of princesses. 

“Who’s your favorite princess?” he asks her, drawing Piper’s attention away from the scary needle in his hands. 

“Belle.” she answers, a small smile making its way to her face. She loved talking about the princess’s and would chatter on about them anytime, any day, anywhere.  

Alex smirks, letting out a sigh of relief. He knew all about Belle, since it was Amber’s all time favorite Disney movie. He’d seen it more time than he’d like to admit, and practically had the whole film memorized since he was fourteen.

“I like Belle too. She’s super brave huh? Never afraid of the Beast or anything.” he gives her a smile, watching as Piper’s face lights up, a wide, toothless smile splayed on her lips. 

“Yeah! She’s so cool! She never lets the beast tell her what to do!” she exclaims, making Alex chuckle. She reminded Alex a lot of his little sister, with her dirty blonde hair, green eyes, and passion for princesses. 

“Okay, well, right now I’m gonna need you to be super brave like Belle alright? And sit really really still, like she does when she reads a book. Can you do that for me Piper?” he smirks mischievously. 

The little girl grins. She always wanted to be like her favorite princess, so she definitely wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to act like one. She already practiced around the house, so she was definitely going to practice in front of the nice doctor who looked like Prince Philip.  

Cristina stood frozenly in the background, mouth opened so wide it could catch flies. Who knew Karev was so good with kids? She sure as hell didn’t.  

She watches as he stitches up the cut, saying some reassuring words every time the girl flinches or squeezes her eyes shut. It was about twenty minutes later when he finished, Yang still standing there in shock. She sees him dress the wound, getting up from his chair and say, “All done. You did awesome Piper, but no more jumping on the couch, alright?” which earns him a nod. He flashes a friendly wink to the mom, who blushes as he walks away, forgetting entirely about Yang’s presence as he makes his way to the cafeteria to finally get his hands on the pizza slice he’s been drooling about for hours.

Maybe Evil Spawn wasn’t so evil after all. 

~*~

Miranda Bailey was exhausted. Between Tuck and trying to begin a pediatric fellowship, all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep for god knows long. Tucker being difficult about their shared custody schedule seemed to only add to her fatigue and she swore on her life that she could crash on the nearest gurney and not wake up for three days straight. 

It was with a heavy sigh she begrudgingly made her way back down to the NICU, remembering that she had left Karev there the day before after administering the kangaroo hold. She knew that by now he had probably dispersed, but she felt like checking on the little baby herself, just to make sure that the preemie was doing okay.

When she arrived at the NICU doors she could see a few faces that she recognized standing outside the window, talking in hushed conversations as they stared at the scene in front of them with imploring eyes, that is, until the one she knew as Reed rushed away-- a friend at her side, finishing their conversation quickly. 

Miranda shakes her head. Though she had softened over the years, everyone still feared the inner ‘Nazi’ that came out from time to time. When she finishes gowning herself she makes her way into the room, stopping in front of the shirtless, sleeping figure on a chair. Surprised was the only word she was able to come up with, though it seemed like an understatement of the century. Alex Karev was sitting there, with a sleeping baby curled contently against his chest, her tiny breaths in sync with the man who was holding her. 

She shakes her head, stopping a few feet from where the man sat. “Karev?” she says, making him open his groggy eyes, blinking as he does so to look around for the source of the noise, relaxing when he knows that no monitors are going off and the baby on his chest is still very much alive. 

“Did you stay here all night?” she asks softly, watching as he looks out the window to see that it was in fact daytime, not evening like it was before he’d fallen asleep.

He takes another look at the baby in his arms, “Um, yeah. I… I guess I did.” he trails off, his voice rough since he barely was awake.  

“Go home, get some rest. The nurse will take over for you.” Miranda scolds. These interns (who were now residents) were like her children, her babies, and as much as the sight warmed her heart, she needed her babies to be well rested. She couldn’t have them falling asleep in the middle of surgery. 

He unintentionally pulls the tiny bundle of pink a bit closer, “No. Uh, I- I’m okay. I’m… good here.” 

She lets out a small, barely there laugh, but not at him. She’d seen the soft side of Alex Karev, but it was few and far between. Everyone knew that the rough exterior he put up was just to stop himself from getting hurt, but this… this side was new. She had never seen him more vulnerable than he was right now, the baby sleeping so soundly on his chest that it seemed like no amount of noise could disturb her. 

“Well, you'd be good in Peds, you know that?” she flicks her gaze from him to the baby. “You get invested. You have good instincts. You stick to your instincts,” she continues, Alex looking down at the child, making some kind of face she wouldn’t know how to describe. 

“You’d be good in Peds, Karev.” she walks away, leaving Alex alone with his thoughts. 

Maybe, just maybe, kids would be the one thing that would allow Karev to show everyone who he really was. 

~*~         

Alex Karev had sort of snuck up on Arizona Robbins. When he said that he was interested in Peds, she truly thought that he was joking, just trying to say something to either get a laugh out of her or annoy her. 

She didn’t know much about Karev, all she really knew was what she had heard from the nurses gossiping loudly at their stations, and the occasional input from Callie here and there. All she really knew was that he had been married to Stevens, who had cancer, then they later got divorced, and before he was married he had earned himself quite a bit of a ‘man-whore’ reputation, nearly as bad as Mark’s. 

Arizona was weary about Karev, so imagine her surprise when she saw his face light up as a kid called him Doctor Alex for the first time. 

The first time she’d ever had the young man on her service she knew that he was cold, arrogant, and a bit too cocky for his own good. He was overall an asshole, and to say Robbins wasn’t happy to have him on her service was an understatement. Bailey had said something to her recently about Karev, but that didn’t lessen her lack of enjoyment about his upcoming arrival on her floor. 

When the man did arrive, he was seven minutes late for rounds, dumping an empty cup of hospital bought coffee in the nearest trash can. He flashed her a crooked grin, apologizing for his tardiness, but not explaining why.

Arizona sighed, rolling her eyes discreetly. She wasn’t normally a strict teacher, but one thing she didn’t like was when her residents were late. The lives of tiny humans were in their hands, no second could be wasted-- much less seven minutes.

“Welcome to peds Doctor Karev…” She starts off, telling him about how pediatrics wasn’t wiping kid’s noses and cuddly bunnies all day long. Peds was hardcore, only for the elite. 

She stops outside room 414, turning back to Karev and giving him as stern of a glare as she could muster. “Remember Karev, smile, engage. These are kids we’re talking about here.” 

Alex rolls his eyes. He knew he wasn’t the nicest guy. He was an ass, a douche, and definitely not the man most women would be proud to take home to their parents. But if there was one thing he did know, it was kids. He practically raised one for god’s sake.  

“Got it Robbins.” he huffs, fixing his posture as the two walk into the room, where a little boy sat on his bed, playing with his colorful toys that sat on his lap, anxious parents sitting in chairs beside him. 

Arizona flashes a grin to the family, directing her attention back to the boy. “Hi Nico, how are we doing today?” 

Nico shrugs, mustering a half-hearted smile. “I’m okay.” he answers, more focused on his toys than the doctors in the room.

“Well that’s good,” she jots something down on her chart. “This is Dr. Alex. He’s gonna be another one of your doctors, okay Nico?” 

“Doctor Alex?” the boy confirms, making Arizona look up from her chart and Alex look back at the boy. 

She saw it then. The way his eyes lit up at the name, how a crooked grin unconsciously made its way to his lips. He had it. The peds glow. 

“Hey dude.” Alex smirks, trying to hide is bubbling excitement. He liked that name, ‘Doctor Alex’. It was different from Karev. It was lighter, easier, it sounded right. Doctor Karev was too… but Doctor Alex? Doctor Alex sounded pretty great. 

Arizona bites her lip as she watches her resident and the patient interact, trying to keep her smile at bay. 

There it is. There’s the real Alex Karev. 

~*~ 

Jo Wilson sat in the intern’s locker room, knotting up the ties of her scrub pants as she listened to the chief resident rattle of names of who the intern’s were with that day. She was more than thankful for a new service, since Medusa was downright terrifying, but she was really hoping that she wouldn’t be assigned to-

“--Wilson you’re with Doctor Karev on Peds.”

Shit. 

She was sure Karev was a great doctor, I mean, he wouldn’t be here-- at one of the best hospitals in the world-- if he sucked. 

But she’d already heard enough about Karev to say that she didn’t like him, not one bit. So far she’d witnessed Leah crying into her locker about why he wouldn’t answer her calls, nurses complain to each other about why he hadn’t texted, and other interns chattering at bars about why he acted like he didn’t know them when they saw each other again.

In conclusion, he was a grade-A jackass who slept with any female that had two legs, and she was certainly not going to be the next one on his (extensive) list of conquests. No sir-ee. 

With a huff she ties her hair back, giving Stephanie a deadpan look after she whispers a “Good luck. Make sure not to sleep with him.” 

There was no way she would be sleeping with Karev, not in a million years. She had heard so much from others that she could already paint a picture-

Ew, no. That’s gross. 

Either way, there was nothing he could ever say to make her fall in bed with him. Nothing at all. 

…

She was exhausted. Karev was an ass. An ass who didn’t hate her, but was still an insufferable asshole. Jo stood at the nurses station, leaning over the counter as she filled out her charts, scribbling down her notes angrily. He made her angry. 

Though she had to admit, seeing him all freaked out over her (fake) crying was pretty hilarious. 

“--Wilson!” she hears her name being called by her asshole of a superior. She turns around, plastering such a faux smile on her face that she felt nauseated just knowing that it was there. 

She’s about to respond when Doctor Grey comes running up to him, shoving a toddler in his arms, taking him by surprise. 

“Alex. I need you to watch her.” the blonde pleads, making him scrunch his eyebrows. 

“Mer I-” 

“Please.” Meredith begs, Alex giving her a crooked grin as he takes ahold of his niece. If there was one thing that could make Alex Karev smile without even trying, it was Zola Grey Shepherd, a two and a half year old little fireball.  

A large grin comes across the little girl’s face as she looks at the man in front of her. “Unca Lex!” she exclaims, clasping her tiny hand on the side of his face. 

“Hi Ms. Zozo,” he smiles, Jo not even noticing how the corner’s of her mouth quirked up at the sight. This was not the Doctor Karev she’d been with these past few hours, this was someone completely new. This was… Alex? 

Meredith sighs. “I have on OB appointment, and normally we’d take her, but she’s just been so fussy lately, and when I tried to take her to daycare she threw a fit-”

Alex cuts her off, “Mer, it's fine. I got her.” he reassures her, pretending to bite the little girl’s finger as it came close to his face, causing her to let out a loud squeal. 

“Okay but-”

He rolls his eyes at the blonde, “Mer, go. She’ll be completely fine.” he smirks. “We all know that she likes me better than you and Shep combined so…” 

Meredith hits him on the shoulder before she turns and waddles down the hall, leaving Alex with a toddler in his arms that was giggling as he tickled her, and an intern who wasn’t quite sure what she was seeing in front of her. 

It was obvious that he had some skills with children, he was a pediatric surgeon for crying out loud. But nobody told her he was this good with kids.She watched as a large smile came across his face, a laugh escaping his mouth at Zola’s squeals and giggles. 

Maybe Alex Karev wasn’t as much of an asshole that she thought he was. 

~*~ 

Nothing was more perfect to him than the sight in front of him. 

Never in a million years did he ever think that he would get to where he was now. 

Alex sat next to his wife as they stared down at the little baby on her chest, her pink cheeks puffed up while her eyes were tightly squeezed closed as she tried to sleep. She was so perfect. So, so perfect.  

A daughter. 

He had a daughter. 

A little bundle of pink that weighed a whole six pounds, seven ounces. Yet somehow, she had managed to take his heart out of his chest and hold it in her tiny, tiny palm. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for how much he already loved his little girl. He’d heard about it, read about it. He’d been in the room when parents met their child for the first time. But this? This was a whole new level of love, something he wasn’t prepared for in the slightest. 

He watched as Jo ran her thumb delicately over the baby girl’s cheeks, tears streaming down Jo’s face. It had been all of two minutes since they welcomed their daughter into the world and she hadn’t stopped crying since. 

Although he wasn’t crying, his throat was built up as he stared at his perfect little girl. A full head of wavy light brown hair sat on top of her head, her rosy lips pouted as she nestled closer to her mother’s chest. 

Perfect. 

That’s the only word that could describe the tiny figure that laid before him.

He rubs his pinky finger over her little fist, watching as it unfolds and grabs it with all of her strength. 

He can feel his heart physically clench, never before had something felt as right as feeling his little girl’s palm around his finger. 

Alex grins, placing a small kiss on the top of Jo’s head, a silent way of saying so many different things at once. 

Thank you. 

You did so well. 

You’re so strong. 

She’s so perfect. 

I love you.

Thank you for marrying me.

Thank you for loving me. 

Thank you for everything.  

Thank you.

Jo readjusts the baby on her chest, bringing her up higher for them to see. 

She lets out a watery smile, her bottom lips trembling as she stares at the tiny girl that she would do anything for. “Hi sweet girl.” she whispers, not even bothering to wipe the water droplets that cascaded down her cheeks. 

Alex lets out a crooked grin, a small laugh escaping his throat in disbelief. This perfect creation was his daughter. How was that even possible?  

“Welcome to the world Lorelei Karev.” he whispers, unable to focus on anything except the tiny girl that he would give up the sun, the moon, and the stars for. 

“We love you so much.” Jo speaks softly, looking up at her husband, the love of her life, her eyes saying more than her mouth ever could. 

Thank you. 

I love you. 

She’s so perfect. 

Thank you for her. 

Thank you for everything. 

Thank you for loving me. 

Thank you.  

They share a small kiss, reveling in the moment they knew they would remember for the rest of their lives. 

It was then he defied all odds. Overcame all of his fears. He wasn’t going to be like his dad, what everyone told him he was going to be. He was going to be an amazing dad, and he knew it.

As it turns out, kids truly were the one thing that could show everyone who the real Alex Karev was after all.

[ziezie13]

So I watched The Mummy for the first time last night and I am appalled that there is only one Drarry Mummy AU. The thing practically writes itself. Rick O'Connell = Harry Potter, Evelyn Carnahan = Draco Malfoy.

After the war, Draco was exiled either officially or socially and has taken up residence in Alexandria, Egypt where he works as a librarian, restocking the ancient library that had been lost. Over the years he has also become the foremost experts in dead languages. But he never wins any grants for his research because of the bias around his ex-death eater status. One day an artifact comes across his desk, a strange puzzle box. Draco solves the thing over evening tea, of course (also he has reading glasses now because that is hot). Inside is a map to Hamunaptra, the ancient Egyptian city of the dead that has become no more than legend and most people believe never existed. Draco is ecstatic because the last recorded location of the Book of Amun-Ra and most myth is founded in reality as he knows. He takes the map to his boss who laughs in his face and accidentally burns off a piece of the map with a badly placed candle. Draco asks where the puzzle box came from and someone tells him it was confiscated from some treasure hunter at the local prison. Draco goes to the prison only to find Harry bloody Potter in chains and looking very disheveled.

Potter's hair is long and greasy, he had a matted beard, covered in dirt and grim, and wearing rags. But Draco would recognize those bright green eyes anywhere. Potter does not seem to be as surprised to see Draco as Draco is to see him which frustrates him to no end. Turns out Potter dropped out of the Auror program years ago and has been working as a freelance curse breaker in the Egyptian desert ever since. He landed his ass in prison after a drunken bar fight where he was arrested with multiple legal magical artifacts. After composing himself, Draco asks Potter about the puzzle box.

"You want to know about Hamunaptra." A statement not a question.

"How did you know the box was connected to Hamunaptra?"

"Because that is where I found it."

"You've been to Hamunaptra."

"Yes."

"Why should I believe you?"

Potter's smile fades immediately at those words. "I don't lie, Malfoy. Besides, you have the proof in your hands."

Draco weighs Potter’s words and shows him the damaged map. "Could you complete this?"

Harry studies the map for a few seconds. "No."

Draco wilts.

"But I could take you there. If you can get me out."

The next day after a few well placed bribes Draco picks Potter up from the prison. "So what first?"

"First I need a shower and a shave."

They go to Draco’s flat where Potter cleans himself up. He emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and fuck Potter has absolutely no right to look like that. His skin has a bronze hue, golden from the sun, and there are just so many muscles. His facial hair has been trimmed to a sexy scruff and his long hair is now clean and dripping wet. Draco follows the path of a drop as it drips down Potter’s chest and disappears into the towel.

"I don't suppose you have any clothes that might fit?"

Draco gives Potter a shirt and trousers. Potter pulls his hair into a messy bun. The trousers are too long, so Potter rolls them up a bit. Both the trousers and shirt fit snugly in more that a few places. Draco knows a charm that would fix that but decides to keep it to himself.

"Why are you so set on getting to Hamunaptra? Need some more dark artifacts to round out your collection?"

Draco frowned. "If you must know I am searching for the Book of Amun-Ra so that I can return it to the Library."

"And this has nothing to do with the fact that the book is made of solid gold."

"You know your history, Potter?"

"I know my treasure."

They then go into town to get supplies and transport. Turns out there is a group of Americans also headed for Hamunaptra and they have a guide who also claims to have been there before. And so the race is on. The city is magicaly protected so they can't apperate or use a portkey. They will get as close as they can using the river then ride camels the rest of the way. What they don't know is that there is a secret society that has protected Hamunaptra from outsiders for centuries. On their first night on the boat they are attacked. A masked figure tries to steal the map and the puzzle box. Draco and Potter jump overboard and escape but they lose the map. Doesn't matter though, because Potter assures Draco he knows the way. Their clothes and supplies are still on the ship though and Draco is in pajamas. They find a local market and Potter pays for some new clothes for Draco and a couple of camels. They set off for Hamunaptra and arrive at the exact same time as the Americans. They wait for the sunrise to reveal the ancient city and ride in. They set up separate camps and dig sites. Draco uses his expert knowledge to find them a prime location. That night the masked riders return and attack both camps. They warn both parties that they have one day to leave or they will die. Draco gets drunk and has a heart to heart with Potter.

"Can I kiss you Potter?"

"Only if you call me Harry."

Draco moves in close but passes out on Potter’s chest before they can kiss.

The next day it is back to business because they are on a clock now. The American's find the Book of the Dead and an ancient magic settles over them as they pull it out. They read from the book and accidentally activate an ancient curse that awakes the Mummy.

The mummy sucks the life/magic from one of the Americans becoming more alive looking.

Some other people die. Harry and Draco manage to escape but not before Draco is marked by the mummy.

They regroup at a hotel in a nearby town and devise a plan. One of the Americans decides to peace out and tells the others to have a nice life. The leader of the masked men shows up and chastises them for activating the curse. He tells them about the mummy, Neferkarê. Neferkarê was an ancient priest, i.e. wizard, sentenced to death along with his lover after breaking his vows. He placed a curse as he died that would ensure that one day he would awaken and resurrect his lover. The mark that he placed on Draco signifies that Draco will be the sacrifice to bring Neferkarê's lover back. Draco reads from the Book of the Dead and they learn that Neferkarê is weakened still and will need to suck the life/magic out of the Americans who unearthed the book before he can do the ritual to resurrect his love. Draco also figures that there must be a spell that can stop Neferkarê written in the Book of Amun-Ra. He goes over the layout of the city in his head as well as everything he has read about it and deduces where the book must be. Potter then locks Draco in the bedroom.

"This is for your own safety. The Mummy marked you, not me. I will rescue the American, get the book, bring it back, and then you can fix it."

Potter and the masked man go after the American who left, to warn him. Meanwhile Draco dies of boredom. He paces in the room trying to find a way out. Neferkarê shows up and drains the two Americans that Harry left behind to guard Draco. He then becomes sand and enters Draco’s room reforming. Draco fights him but Neferkarê has drained all four Americans at this point and kidnaps Draco.

Potter arrives just as Neferkarê grabs Draco and dissolves into a dust storm.

Potter chases after them across the desert on a broom.

Seeing Potter following them he stops and sends a sandstorm right for Potter. Draco attacks Neferkarê again and breaks his concentration so that Potter can get away. Potter crashes his broom but Draco is hopeful that he is still alive after all Potter has survived much worse.

Neferkarê finishes taking Draco back to Hamunaptra and ties him down to the ritual alter. He begins to prep the ritual and Draco can only hope that Potter shows up with the Book of Amun-Ra. Things look pretty grim for a moment but Potter shows up at the last minute and severs Draco’s bonds. Neferkarê resurrects other mummies that begin fighting Potter and turns his attention back to Draco. Draco meanwhile is trying to get the book open but it requires a key i.e. the puzzle box which is now in the possession of Neferkarê. Draco and Neferkarê battle a third time. Draco knows he is no match for Neferkarê, Harry might be - maybe, but he is otherwise occupied at the moment. So Draco outwits Neferkarê and gets the key. He reads from the book but before he can finish the spell Neferkarê recovers and turns on Draco again knocking the book away. Harry finished up with the undead army but he doesn't know if he should go for Draco or the book. Draco makes the decision for him.

"The book, Harry! Get the book."

Harry obeys and flips the book open to the right spot.

"I can't read this Draco."

"Just describe the last symbol to me."

At this point Neferkarê has begun to choke Draco to death.

"It’s some kind of bird. A stork!"

"Ahmenophus." Draco chokes out.

Draco manages to say the entire incantation and Neferkarê drops him and staggers back. But after a beat he seems fine and goes after Draco again.

Harry steps in and fires off a spell. "I thought that was supposed to kill him."

Draco shakes his head. "It made him mortal."

The structure begins to shake and threatens to collapse in on itself. Draco and Harry share a look and head towards the exit. Neferkarê refuses to leave his lover and ends up buried alive.

Draco and Harry emerge from the sand unscathed and share a passionate kiss before riding off into the sunset.

[nerdyfangirl67]

Changed - NCIS Reader Insert

Pairing: Gibbs x reader

Warnings: language (I think?), feelings of anxiousness and trauma (symptoms of PTSD), feelings of fear

Word count: 2732

A/N: I’m not entirely sure if you get to leave the Witness Protection Program after the case is solved or not, but for this one-shot, I’m taking some liberties. I also am not writing Ziva into this one-shot because I feel if Gibbs “lost” a member, he would wait as long as he could before filling the position. Kate’s death is another thing that I left out of this piece. I just felt that it didn’t really go with my storyline so I left it out.

If ya’ll want me to write a part 2 to this, let me know!

Reader had to join witness protection for a period of time. When the reader returns to the team, she is changed. No one knows how to talk with her, no one except Gibbs, who never stopped loving her.

Your POV:

You stood across the street, staring at the two-story house that used to be your home. You had been gone for three years. Three long, treacherous years, the entirety of which had been spent under a different identity, thousands of miles from home, constantly looking over your shoulder, ready to run. Three years that had changed you beyond recognition. And now you were back. Which meant you got to pick up the pieces of your shattered life and try to glue them back together. The first thing you had done when you had gotten out of the program was come back here. Yes, it was the place it all started but it was also the place you had left your heart three years ago. The place were you had left your family behind.

-----

After a psych evaluation and an entrance interview of sorts with Director Vance, you had been reinstated as an agent on Gibbs’ team. Tomorrow was your first day back with the team and the excitement and nervousness consuming you were keeping you from sleep. Add to that the fact you were staying in a motel room, with a disturbing lack of security measures, for the first time in years and you knew it was going to be a sleepless night.

You had tried everything you could think of to fall asleep, you had even resorted to ‘counting sheep’. Finally, around five in the morning, you were able to fall into a light sleep, which you were rudely awakened from only an hour and a half later when your alarm goes off.

You drag yourself out of bed and head to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, you cringe internally at the sight of yourself. Your Y/H/C hair is tangled from the constant tossing and turning you did last night. There are dark bags underneath your eyes, which feel gritty and dry from your lack of sleep. You sigh and decide the best you can do is take a long, hot shower.

An hour later you were dressed and ready, or as ready as you’ll ever be, for work. You grab your jacket, the room key, and head towards the Prius you had rented until you could get your car out of storage.

The closer you got to the office, the more the feeling of anxiety in your chest grew, threatening to consume you entirely. You park the rental at the far edge of the parking lot, taking a minute to gather your breath before heading towards the NCIS building. You flash your badge at security, making it through much quicker than you had anticipated. You opted to take the stairs, not ready to encounter anyone you know just yet.

Reaching the floor of the NCIS offices and bullpen, you take a deep breath before pulling the door open. Upon reaching the bullpen, you notice the only other person present was Agent McGee. Agent McGee had been new to the team prior to you leaving, so you hadn’t been able to get to know him very well.

Taking a few steps forward, until you stood in front of Tony’s desk, you call out a simple greeting, “Good morning Agent McGee.”

McGee lifts his head up, bringing his attention onto you. You watch as the confusion in his features morphs to recognization. “Agent Y/L/N right?” He questions, standing and walking closer to you, extending a hand as he does. You nod and shake his hand, as he presses you further, “Boss said you were in the Program and didn’t know when, or if, you’d be back.” You nod tightly in response, but the conversation is brought to a halt when a booming voice fills the bullpen.

“McGee, who’s the hott-...” Tony trails off as you move to face him. He stares at you in shock before softly whispering, “Y/N?”

Nodding, you feel tears start to cascade down your face. You move forward at the same time Tony does and the two of you collide together in a tight embrace. You had missed him, your best friend. You had missed being a part of the team, a part of a family.

“I missed you, Tony.” You mumble, trying to stop the tears falling from your face.

His grip on you tightens before he whispers, “I missed you too.” He held on to you for a moment longer before releasing you and pulling back to look at you.

“You don’t look too bad there, sweet cheeks.” He says with a smirk. You smile open your mouth to reply, but Gibbs’ voice cuts you off, “Grab your gear. We have a case.”

You had been dreaming of this day for the past three years, the day you would finally get to lay eyes on the man you loved. His blue eyes are drawing you in, causing you to unconsciously move towards him.  You stop when you are a foot away from him, breathing in his unique musk of coffee and cedar for the first time in three years. As you look into his eyes, you can clearly see the future you had thought was long gone come back to light. That alone calms you, but the moment he gently pulls you into a hug, you feel like you are truly home.

“Are you safe?” He murmurs into your ear. You nod in response. Gibbs was the only one who knew the details of why you had to join the program. The hug doesn’t last long but it is better than anything you had imagined. As you step back from his embrace, he flashes you a small, discrete smile, which you return with a smile of your own.

Your recently reinstated status keeps you back at headquarters, filling out paperwork. The day goes by slowly, with a visit from Abby and Ducky being the only thing breaking the day up. You don’t see Tony, Gibbs, or McGee for the rest of the day and you head back to your motel room, in a dejected mood.

-----

The rest of the week passes much in the same fashion, with you seeing the rest of your team only briefly. The nights don’t pass any smoother and by Friday you are waking up at 4:30 in the morning, spending a few hours swimming in the motel pool to relax your tense muscles before heading to work.

You are the last one to arrive at the office, sitting down at your desk and taking a moment to lean back in your chair. When you sit up properly in your chair, you notice a coffee on your desktop. Your eyes drift towards Gibbs’ desk to see he’s watching you. You mouth a quiet “thank you” before grabbing the coffee and taking a long sip.

The morning passes quickly, with you adding some input to the ideas bouncing around the bullpen about the current case.

After a lunch of Chinese takeout, kindly supplied by Tony, the team comes across a break in the case as an identity of the unsub is discovered. Gibbs and McGee head to the unsub’s work location and you and Tony head to the unsub’s house.

After a twenty-minute car ride, the entirety of which you spent trying to calm the growing anxiety in your gut, you and Tony reach the house. Tony steps up to the door, knocking and announcing the two of you. No response comes, so after checking to see if the door is locked, Tony kicks in the door. You and Tony sweep the rooms of the house, finding no one. Passing back through the hallway you had just cleared, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Fear takes ahold of you and you ram your elbow backward, meeting a body, and as you whirl around, you grip the person’s wrist, twisting it behind their back.

“Son of a bitch! Y/N, it’s me.” Tony whisper yells, causing you to immediately release him. “I noticed a shed in the back. All the windows are blacked out with newspaper. We need to approach from the side and get the front and back entrances.” His words have you tensing up again, yet you follow him out of the house and around towards the shed.

You place a hand on Tony’s shoulder, stopping him only feet away from the shed. You stretch up and whisper nervously, “Shouldn’t we wait for the rest of the team?” Tony hesitates briefly before shaking his head. You huff out a breath in frustration but follow after him.

Tony splits off from you, sending you towards the back of the shed. You slowly progress forward towards the back door. You wait off to the side of the door, listening as Tony announces himself before pushing the door open. The door flies open and the unsub comes running out, followed closely by Tony. The suspect doesn’t get far though because as he shoots past you, you stick out a leg, sending him crashing to the ground.  

“Don’t move, you’re under arrest.” Tony’s voice is deep with frustration. You haul the unsub to his feet, slapping cuffs onto his wrists. The two of you drag him to the car. Tony gives him a subtle push into the backseat. The drive back to the NCIS goes relatively quickly and the suspect is in the interrogation room, under Gibbs stern glare, shortly after.

A few hours after Gibbs got a confession from the suspect, you were sitting at your desk, completing paperwork for the case. It was well after six, but you didn’t want to leave paperwork for tomorrow. Tony and McGee had gone home about half an hour ago and you knew Gibbs was around somewhere, but you hadn’t seen him in a while.

You had just finished the required paperwork when your desk phone rang. Picking up the phone you answer, “NCIS, Agent Y/L/N.”

There is no sound coming from the other end of the phone call so you repeat your greeting. As you wait for a response, a chill travels up your spine. You quickly write down the phone number before slamming the phone down.

You hurry downstairs, bringing the number with you. Heavy metal music gets louder the closer you get to the door of Abby’s lab and you place your hands over your ears as the door slides open.

“Abby?” You yell into the lab as you move towards her radio. Turning the music down, you call out at a much lower volume, “Abby? Are you here?”

Abby pops up from behind her computer, causing you to let out of a squeak of surprise.

“What’s up chickadee?” Abby cheerfully asks as she moves in your direction.

“Can you run some background on this phone number for me?” You question, handing over the slip of paper with the number on it.

Abby grabs the paper, heading back to her computer. “Just give me a minute.” She starts furiously typing on her keyboard. A moment later, she looks at you before relaying the gathered intel.

“The number belongs to a burner phone so I couldn’t get a name. And the call didn’t last long enough for me to trace it, sorry Y/N.” You nod your head, the information disappointing but you hadn’t been expecting anything promising.

“Thanks, Abs. And could you keep this between us? I don’t need the team knowing, especially Gibbs.” You reply as you start moving towards the lab door.

Abby looks a bit confused before nodding. “Of course Y/N.”

You wave a good-bye before retreating back up to the bullpen. Your heart is thudding in your chest and you can’t bring yourself to head back towards your motel room just yet, so you sit back down at your desk. Sitting at your desk becomes leaning back in your desk chair, which eventually became resting with your eyes closed.

A deep voice causes you to snap up out of your chair and place your hand on your holstered gun. Your eyes scan the bullpen in a panic until they land on Gibbs standing in front of you. His electric blue eyes bore into your Y/E/C eyes. He reaches out a hand, placing it gently on top of the hand resting on your gun holster.

“Y/N, why don’t you go home?” His quiet voice manages to slow your racing nerves.

“I don’t feel safe in that motel room. And I got a weird call earlier that didn’t sit right with me.’” You answer truthfully, knowing that you never have to hide what you were feeling from him. And even if you did, he would find a way to figure out what you were hiding from him.

His hand grips yours before saying, “Come home with me. You’ll be safe there.” His words consume you with an intense feeling of love and you know that the safest place you could be was with Gibbs. You nod your head and follow him out of the office.

--—

The night you spent at Gibbs’ was the safest you had felt since even before you had joined the Witness Protection Program. And Gibbs made it easy for you to forget the fear you’d felt since returning home, even if it was just for a night. The fear that this was all a mirage and you’d be killed by those who were after you before you could enjoy your life again. Before you had the chance to tell Gibbs how you felt about him.

Although you had the weekend off, a case early Saturday afternoon had you forgetting about your need for a permanent residence, other than the crappy motel room you were staying in. You arrive at the crime scene shortly after leaving Gibbs’ house. You had spent a good amount of the morning watching Gibbs work on his boat, allowing yourself to simply relax in his presence.

DiNozzo gets to the crime scene at the same time as you and the two of you walk towards the tape together. Just before you reach the body, your cellphone rings. You grab it, glance at the caller ID, and answer with a “Hello?”

Silence answers from the other end. The hair on your arms pricks up and a shiver runs down your spine. You quickly hang up, ignoring the strange look Tony gives you, and block the number on your phone.

Just then Tony’s phone rings and you rapidly say, “Don’t answer that”, as you place a firm hand on his forearm.

Tony’s brow is wrinkled in confusion as he looks at you. “Y/N, it’s only McGee.” His gentle voice brings you to reality as you realize you just freaked out on your own best friend.

You mumble out an apology before rushing ahead to the body. You don’t even hear a word Ducky says about the victim and you almost miss Gibbs sending you to the victim’s house with McGee as he and DiNozzzo go to interview the victim’s boss and co-workers.

You and McGee search the victim’s house, finding nothing out of the ordinary. The ride back to the office was uneventful, with McGee trying to make small talk, but you were quick to shut it down. You weren’t able to think about anything but the fear swirling around in your brain after this morning’s event.

Walking into the bullpen, you are immediately greeted by Gibbs. He barely gave you any time to dump your gear at your desk before dragging you along with him to the elevator.

You watch as Gibbs pulls the emergency stop button and then turn his gaze to you. You wait, unsure of exactly what he wants from you.

“Y/N. Are you safe?” Worry and protectiveness lace through his voice. Although it was a simple question, of only three words, you know that there is more to it than that. His question told you of all the feelings that he hadn’t yet voiced.

“I don’t feel safe Jethro. I feel like I am always looking over my shoulder. And these random phone calls...they scare me.” Your honest confession causes the fear to resurface, bringing tears along with it. Gibbs steps forward, wrapping his arms tight around you, tucking your head in close. You press your face into his chest, finding comfort in the steady beating of his heart.

“We’ll get him. And in the meantime, I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” His gentle words remind you of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

“I love you.” You murmur, unable to hold back the truth any longer.

“I know.” And although he didn’t say it back, you know he loves you as well.

[captainmazzic]

Happy Halloween.

So it’s about time I gave a real fucking update instead of just dicking around being cagey about shit. I’ve mentioned a new project repeatedly. So let’s sit down and actually talk about it, friends. Pull up a chair, grab yourself some hot cocoa and strap in. Welcome to Sarc’s emotional roller coaster.

Bear with me. This is hard to talk about for so many reasons, but mostly because I’ve been belittled and ridiculed so many times in my life for liking “cringy” things or wanting to do things that other people think are stupid or childish. I hear the voice of my father telling me to “make something of my life” and “don’t squander your talents”, I hear the voice of my mother telling me I have “so much potential” and “one day I hope you get some ambition”, I hear the voice of my ex telling me to “stop wasting time with stupid shit” and “nobody is interested in failures”. I hear old teachers telling me honor roll students should go to college and study high-demand majors and anything else would be lazy and detrimental and won’t contribute anything worthwhile to society.

It’s the same shit that prevented me for a long time from posting art online. From posting writing online. From making ocs and showing them to other people. And now it’s preventing me from starting this project, and I’m so, so tired of it.

My biggest fear right now is that once I start talking about this project I’ll lose this tiny little community of people vaguely interested in my stuff that have somehow stuck around. External validation and sharing the things I love are my primary motivations with everything I do online, and while screaming into the void is all well and good, I need feedback and interaction and community. I need it so, so badly. I wouldn’t post jack shit – ever – if I didn’t need that, to be honest.

So anyway.

When the pandemic kicked into high gear earlier this year I got laid off for a few months. It gave me a lot of time to think about who I am and where I wanted to be in life, what mattered to me, what dreams I still had and which ones had fallen by the wayside.

Some of them are huge – once upon a time I was very religious. I went through seminary, got my minister’s certification, and was slated to be an associate pastor in a mega-church and rake in a six-figure income within 3 years. But I lost my faith and couldn’t stand the idea of being disingenuous.

And there was also a time when I received a full-ride scholarship to a very prestigious university that would have spanned a 12-year program and resulted in me having several doctorates and masters degrees by the end of it, in the fields of geology, palaeontology, and cladistics. But the scholarship program that was supposed to sponsor me went bankrupt the very semester I was supposed to capitalize on it. I was still accepted into the school, but the $1.2 million price tag would have all been out of my own pocket. So obviously that didn’t happen.

Those were the “acceptable” dreams. Those were the ones that parents and teachers and the general outside world approved of and thought were worthy goals. But neither of them panned out, and all I have left are the cringy ones. Like homesteading and sustainable living (can’t start without land, can’t have land without money). Like making comic books and doing art commissions for a living (it has to be steady to support myself, and I’m far too slow an artist for things to be steady). And like… playing video games.

Ha.

What’s funny is I can already envision the eyerolls and hear the snorts of laughter. What kind of dream is that? Only a handful of famous youtubers and twitch celebrities play video games for a living, and breaking into a field like that is pretty much impossible unless you already have friends in famous places.

Yeah, but… it would be so much fun. Right?

It WOULD be fun. I don’t have to become a super popular celebrity for it to be fun, right?

I don’t have to make it my day job and rake in piles of cash for it to be fun, right?

… I don’t have to actually be successful for it to be fun… right?

… Right?

:/

… I love video games.

I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed so many times to win The Empire Strikes Back on Atari 2600. I’ve loved them ever since I played Mortal Kombat with my cousin in his basement with the sound down super low because it was ultra-violent and I would have been in so much trouble if mom caught me playing it. I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed to finish Strife and Hexen and Heretic without the computer crashing and rebooting to DOS. I’ve loved them ever since I had to cheat-code my way through Jedi Knight: Dark Forces II just to get past the first boss fight but then no-clipped through the wall and died anyway. I still love that game.

But I stopped playing video games for a very long time. I was intimidated out of them by an ex and a somewhat toxic friend group who were Real Gamers™. I was brought to LAN parties but not allowed to play, because I slowed down the team and didn’t know the controls. I was banned from commenting on other people’s moves or cheering people on because it was distracting and I could cost them a win. I was even kicked out of their online D&D campaigns because I couldn’t be serious enough or roleplay well enough for their standards. Even if I was playing a game on my own, I couldn’t play with anyone else in the house because I’d be ridiculed for dying a lot, or for going the wrong way, or for picking the wrong game because only certain games are “good” and most of the ones I wanted to play were “stupid” or “trash” or a “waste of time”.

That kind of thing sits with me for a very, very long time. I didn’t really play games at all for over a decade. Even after I ended up on the opposite side of the country, with a new circle of friends, I couldn’t bring myself to play much of anything.

And then I had an extended visit with a friend of mine, and he introduced me to an early version of a ridiculous little game called Minecraft. My friend was an avid gamer but also a very kind one. In the ten years before this, I had told myself that I just preferred to watch other people play games instead of playing them myself (a lie. I mean, I absolutely adore watching other people play, but I also want to play too lol), my friend saw through that and very gently encouraged me to take a stab at playing Minecraft myself. He moved his laptop over to me, and I played a whole ten minutes with him watching before my nerves failed me and I promptly died. But miraculously it wasn’t a big deal to him. It was just a game. I might have cried in relief, I don’t remember.

After my visit I shelved playing video games for like another year, despite buying a whole mess of them because other friends online loved certain titles and wanted to talk about them with me. (I never played them, just bought them. I couldn’t even handle the thought of playing by myself in my own house). But for some reason I mentioned to my brother-in-law my old visit to my Minecraft-loving friend, and he just… up and bought the game for me. My brother-in-law is also an avid gamer with a lovely and patient disposition, and he suggested I just play in creative mode and build things to start. So I did that (behind a locked door in the RV that I lived in by myself, with the lights off and the sound down low) and Minecraft was my sole video game for another several years.

Then a couple years ago another friend of mine (hi Char) introduced me to Star Wars: The Old Republic, and I fell in love. It sparked a renewed interest in video games that I thought I would never really have the opportunity to satisfy, because games were still intimidating.

Let me clarify: I… SUCK. At video games. I’m terrible at them. Learning controls is a nightmare and a tunicate evolving its own brain would learn faster than me. If I’m aiming, I can’t hit the broad side of a barn. I have the direction sense of a whirligig beetle on the back of a drunk pigeon. I die fast and I die often. I can count the number of games I’ve actually finished on one hand. Even less if we don’t count the ones I had to use cheat codes to get through. But none of that diminishes my love of experiencing them, and over this whole pandemic and quarantine thing I’ve had a lot of time to unpack and mull over my thoughts and feelings and passions about them.

… I moved my RV to a new spot literally the day before the lockdown in my state first initiated. Before this I was in a spot that had no internet other than what reception I could get on my phone, with severely limited bandwidth and patchy, unreliable service. The new spot has a steady wi-fi connection, and while upload speed is utter shit, downloading and streaming video are just this side of manageable. So I spent the first three months of the quarantine lockdown doing pretty much nothing other than watching Jacksepticeye, CrankGameplays, and Markiplier play video games on YouTube. (I honestly had no idea before this that people even did let’s plays. My internet access/speed has been shit for so long I’m totally out of the loop).

It… for fear of sounding utterly stupid yet again, it inspired me.

Like. These people really love what they’re doing. They just. Play video games and have fun with it, and I mean yeah they make money hand-over-fist doing it but the main thing is they HAVE FUN doing it. They have fun! Playing video games! In front of people! It’s wild. And the thing that REALLY got me was… they have feedback on it too. They have a COMMUNITY. They have people they can talk to about it. They have people that they can play games WITH, even, who don’t yell at them or tell them they suck every five minutes or tell them they can’t play with them because they’re worthless as teammates. They can fuck up in a game and their friends are laughing along with them on Discord instead of screaming at them to get it right or get out. They can play games by themselves in their house and then upload videos on the internet and then they can talk to other people about it! They have fun! It’s awesome! They have fun!!

I just. It meant so much to me. It meant so much to me to see these videos of these three, and then another dozen or so that I’ve followed since, play all these games and have such a good time and also be such a positive and kind and encouraging source of energy.

I know all of this is not exactly about video games specifically. It’s about coming to terms with how I’ve been treated as a person and as a friend, about how other people respect someone’s interests and passions, about how it’s okay to share your interests with other people and it’s okay to like things that other people might not care about or think are important.

And I’m so, so tired of not doing the things I love because I’m afraid of what other people will think.

So I, uh. I invested all of the stimulus money I had into a new rig and equipment like a camera, lighting, acoustic panels, all that shit. I dug out all the games I bought but never played, I made accounts on all the big gaming services like Steam and Itch.io and GoG, and I made a YouTube channel. And I’m going to be making my own let’s plays. And it will suck, and it will be cringy and awkward and badly done, and it won’t make me money or be a valid career option or be anything but another very expensive hobby, but it will be mine, and it will be something I can share with people and (hopefully) have fun with, and it will (hopefully) be an avenue for some of this positive social interaction I’m craving.

I know YouTube can be toxic and super negative and full of trolls and cancel culture fanatics and people just waiting to find something to tear you down for, but like. Come on, y’all. I’m posting this on tumblr dot com. Toxic is everywhere anyway. I just want to try, you know?

I just want to love video games again.

Someone famous that I look up to so, so much told me – without knowing that I was even listening, without even knowing that I even exist – that if I enjoy doing something, to just go for it. To just jump in and do it, and if it works then it works, and if it doesn’t, what have I actually lost?

And I’m lucky enough to have four whole offline friends that I’ve mentioned this idea to, and each of them has said encouraging things like I’d have a good voice and face and style for making let’s plays. I honestly don’t know how true that part is, but on my good days I believe them. And they also said that I should go for it, to just try.

So that’s… that’s what I’m doing, I guess. I just want to try.

I know it’s not Star Wars fanart. I know it’s not Star Wars fanfiction. I know it’s not Star Wars meta or essays or ranting about the Sith and the Jedi and the Force. I know it’s not what y’all want from me. And that’s utterly terrifying. I’m bracing myself to be alone on the internet again, because I know that when I dive headfirst into this thing, it’ll eat away into the time that I normally might be spending doing writing or art, and it’s going to be something no one else wants to see and no one signed up for. And that’s partly why it’s taken me so very, very long to get started.

The other part is more physical. Of course as soon as I decide that I’m going to put my face on a camera is when my entire face goes to shit. I’m currently waiting on a potential diagnosis for mouth cancer, while already dealing with a severe jaw infection that’s causing my teeth and gums to rot inside my mouth. They already took part of my jaw, I’m missing teeth, others are turning black, if I open my mouth even just a little it is so obvious and I look like a very, very literal zombie. I have never been more grateful that masks are socially acceptable. I have a series of twelve appointments scheduled to treat this shit now that I have dental and health insurance (goodbye paycheque), and I might qualify for reconstruction surgery too. But that doesn’t really help how I look right now.

So I just can’t bring myself to start this project just yet. I’ve been sitting on it for months now with all the other pieces in place, but I just. Can’t. Start. It’s driving me crazy, because I want to start so badly. I feel like I’m wasting time. I feel like I’ve already wasted so much time, because I haven’t even done anything else in the meantime. I haven’t done hardly any art or fanfic, nothing. My anxiety is spiking so high right now because I have all these expectations of myself, but I can’t do anything about it. I’ve been told that I could just start without a camera or wear a mask on screen, and I’ve actually done some recording doing exactly that, but I just… can’t seem to make anything I want to finalize.

It’s also frustrating because I have no way of uploading anything at home. I’ll have to go over to my partner’s house which is nearly an hour’s drive away in order to get internet good enough to upload videos, which means that upload schedules are going to be shiiiiiit and that’s also frustrating.

But. But. BUT. I want to do this.

I want to do this so badly. I want to share let’s plays and experience a love of video games with other people. I want to actually play games with other people too. I also just acquired a piano keyboard, and I want to play again on the regular because I miss it so much. I used to play piano for hours every single day, it’s so relaxing and fun, maybe I can post that too. Maybe I can post let’s draws or something, where I ask y’all what to draw and then make a video of me drawing it while bullshitting to the camera I don’t know it sounds like fun. Maybe I can post videos of my cooking because the shit I make seems to be everyone’s favourite thing on instagram, and maybe I can take my camera with me when I go to the ocean or hike up into the middle of nowhere in the mountains and film how beautiful everything is up there. Or maybe I can do none of that and just focus on one thing, I honestly have no idea what I’m doing or how to do it, but I just… I want to try. I just want to try.

I don’t know where any of this is going anymore. I’m sorry I haven’t responded to messages, or opened up commissions. I’m sorry that this isn’t what y’all wanted. I’m still going to continue drawing and writing, I’m still going to be around, I’m not going anywhere, but I have no idea how prolific I’m going to be and I have no idea even when I’ll start uploading videos, to be honest. But I just. I’m just gonna try. It might still take me a while but I’m gonna try. Wish me luck. I love y’all.

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 18)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 1939

Warnings: angst and language throughout, mention of suicide

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​​​  and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @quailliamfears thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​​​ and @arrow-guy​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

Once you arrived at Stephen’s place, you helped him through his morning routine before stating, “If I’m going to stay here nearly all day, I’ll need to get some work done. Is that alright with you?”

“Oh, please, by all means, don’t let me get in the way of your pseudoscience,” he said, making a gesture of moving out of the way. “You can use my office.” 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your suitcase full of things. “Thanks.” You went in there and made a small work space and began calling patients, trying to schedule them for therapy in the city. You could use another space nearby to start seeing them, depending on how long you would be here. 

When you took a break, you made lunch for you and Stephen. 

“New song today,” you said as you turned on the music, skipping to a random song in your library. 

“You make this so easy,” he boasted before nailing the artist, album name, and release year. 

“I will get you, one day,” you vowed with a grin. 

You went back to your office after the two of you ate, and talked quickly of current events in the news. While you were on the phone with one of your more unstable, and new patients, you had to calm him down. 

“Randy, Randy, take a deep breath for me. There’s nothing we can’t figure out,” you coaxed on the phone, standing up and pacing. 

“You’re two hours away! My father has cancer and I--” He started to sob and you continued to pace. 

“I know. This puts you in a very difficult position.” 

“No, no it doesn’t. It makes everything clearer. I can’t be here.” 

“Be where? Randy, where are you?” 

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t care. No one fucking cares!” he cried out. 

“Yes they do,” you insisted, your heart hammering in your chest. “I do.”

“You’re paid to!”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t care. Randy, tell me where you are. When did you find out your father had cancer?” 

“A few hours ago,” he said. 

“So where are you now?” 

“I’m not going to tell you anything. This is all too much. I just lost my mom a year ago, and now my dad… He might be an abusive son of a bitch, but he’s all I’ve got.” 

You took a deep breath, trying to think of what to say. 

“Randy, are you in danger of hurting yourself or anyone else?” 

He paused, silent a long time before saying, “Just me.” He began crying again. 

You began searching for his address on your laptop from the forms he’d filled out. You marched out of the temporary office and over to Stephen who was sitting on his couch, reading. “Randy, why do you want to hurt yourself?” you asked, making Stephen look up at you. You grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled a message that said to do a welfare check on Randy Smith, with his address. 

“Because I don’t have any body.”

“You told me you have some cousins, how would they feel if you ended your life?” 

“They wouldn’t even know. If they did find out they’d just say, ‘that’s a shame.’.”

You shoved the paper at Stephen with the instructions on it. He nodded and got up, grabbing his phone and going into his bedroom. 

“No friends? Girlfriend? Coworkers? Randy, everyone has something to live for. People aren’t the only thing that make a life go round. You told me you’re a computer programmer, yeah? What do you want to do with that?” 

“Well, I work for a medical software company.” 

“Is that your dream job?” 

“Not really. I mean, I love the programming, but it’s not all I want to do.”

“Tell me about what you do want to do.” 

“I want to program planes, for the military.” 

“See? That’s a noble cause. It’ll help your country. Randy, if you end your life now, that’s your choice, but you won’t get the chance to tell your father what he has done to you. You won’t get the chance to talk with me, to work through problems I know you can work through. You sought me out for help, please, let me help. Don’t miss this opportunity to take control of your life, and make it what you want to be.” 

Stephen walked back in the room and he said, “They went to the house, there was no one there.” 

“Randy?” you said again. “Randy, please, don’t make a mistake based on how you’re feeling right now in this moment. We know that all feelings pass, and you may be in the dark right now, I know you might be very far in there, in a pit you feel like you can’t climb out of. But that’s why you hired me, isn’t it? This cancer situation with your father is just that, it’s a situation we need to navigate together. I’ll help you every step of the way. You just need to tell me where you are and we can begin therapy as soon as you'd like.” 

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally said, “I’m in the parking garage… Oh, god, Dr. Y/L/N, please help me.” 

You held in your sigh of relief and replied, “I will, Randy, I will. I’ll be right there.” You hung up and called the police, telling them where he was. 

“I’m so sorry, Stephen, but I have to go,” you said hurriedly. 

He merely nodded as you grabbed your purse and ran out the door. 

Once the crisis was averted, you got him checked into the hospital, and you talked with him for a bit. Once he felt safe and secure, you left him in the capable hands of the hospital. You came back to the apartment, drained. 

“That was, uh, impressive,” Stephen noted. “Guess it’s more than just a pseudo science.”

“Guess so,” you responded tiredly. 

“So what made you decide to do this work?” he asked.

You scoffed. “Oh, so now you’re suddenly interested?” 

“Now that I saw you save a man’s life over the phone? Yes, I am. I’m very impressed. I can only save lives with my own hand. You did it with nothing but your own words, your own voice.” 

“I suppose I did. Well, if you must know, I simply want to help people. I love making sure people are okay and knowing I had a hand in that.”

“That’s rather noble.” 

You laughed. “That’s what Charles said when I told him when we first started corresponding.” 

“It’s true though.”

“So how about you? Saving lives, that’s quite noble. Is that why you do what you do?”

He laughed now. “Far from it. I just love the thrill.” 

You nodded slowly. “Ah, yes, people love holding other people’s lives in their hands for the thrill of it. I would say correct me if I’m wrong, but I know I’m not, and the only people who do that are those with antisocial personality disorder. You don’t strike me as the type, despite your best efforts.” 

Stephen smiled widely at this. “Touche. Uh, if you really want to know. I had a tragedy happen when I was younger. The thing you said when we first met, about losing someone close, someone family… you were right. Long story short, I wanted to save lives. That’s all I want to say on it.”

You pressed your lips together before nodding and saying, “Thank you, for sharing with me. I bet that was hard.”

“Don’t use your psychiatrist voice on me. I don’t need to be pitied or patronized.” 

“I’m not. I’m simply being sympathetic. I truly believed you went through something hard and I appreciate you telling me. Opening up to me is a great honor, I feel.” 

He semi-rolled his eyes. You realized you needed to take a different approach here. Stephen didn’t like talking about his past, in regards to his family. But Christine made it clear that he was arrogant, so maybe you should talk about his achievements. 

“Christine told me you were driving to a convention when your crash happened, to speak at a conference.” 

“Yes, I was.”

“Do you enjoy it? Speaking, that is, about your work?” 

“I do, I love it actually. Have you ever done it?” 

You shrugged slightly. “I’ve done it a handful of times but she said you did it often and were very good at it.”

“I’d like to say so, but she said she didn’t ever enjoy it.” 

“That’s too bad. I wish I could’ve been your date,” you admitted. “You seem like you’d actually have fun at those things.”

“I did. I wish I could still do it.” 

“You will, one day, I know it.” You grinned at him and the two of you ordered take-out. 

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

Things turned south for Stephen though. He couldn’t afford the high price of his Manhattan penthouse without his job. He’d burned through all of his money trying to chase every cure. When he finally realized this, he went nuts.

“I’m losing my home!” he shouted as he ran around his room in a robe, looking like a mad man.

“It’s just an apartment, Stephen. We can find you a new one.”

“Oh, yes, because you have so much free time.”

“I do. I came here to help you, didn’t I?” you challenged. 

“I don’t need you to be a realtor.”

“Why not? You’ve made me a nurse, a cook, a maid. It’s clear you don’t want me as a soulmate, and friend is still even up for debate. Why not just make me your realtor?” 

“You’ve never lost anything, have you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be so heartless about this.”

You stopped, staring at him. “I’ve lost something before. I’m not being heartless, Stephen. I’m being realistic. You spent all of your money. You aren’t making any more. You have to move out of a place you can no longer afford. You’re always raving about logic and statistics and things you can see, well look at the statistics if you keep trying to live here.” 

“This is everything I’ve worked for.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a side effect of what you can do. There is more to life than just your work. You dedicated yourself like this once before, you can do it again. You didn’t work for a fancy palace in a shining city. You worked to be the best god damn neurosurgeon you can be and it paid off and it got you this. But you don’t have this any more. You don't have the means. I know it hurts, I know it sucks. But crying about it, getting pissed off about it, isn’t going to change the fact that your hands are beyond repair.”

He looked at you as if he hated you and your nerves just steeled. You couldn’t waiver from him, from this, not now. Not when he needed you most. 

“I’m here to help you. So help me help you, before you end up on the streets. Alright?” 

He sat down on his bed, his head in his hands. You were standing on the opposite side of the bed before you got on it and crawled over, putting your hands on his shoulders and resting your cheek against his back. 

“We will figure this out. Okay?” 

A long silence passed before he said, “I never wanted to end up like this.” 

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” You kissed his robe clad shoulder. “We’ll get you another apartment, another job. You’re still a doctor. It’s not the end of the world.”

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

Forever Tag:

@essie1876​​​​​

@magpiegirl80​​​​​

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​​​​

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please​​​​​

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification​​​​​

@thejemersoninferno​​​​​

@rda1989​​​​​

@munlis​​​​​

@thefridgeismybestie​​​​​

@bubblyanarocks3​​​​​

@igiveupicantthinkofausername​​​​​

@kaliforniacoastalteens​​​​​

@feelmyroarrrr​​​​​

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​​​​

@damalseer​​​​​

@heyitscam99​​​​

@yknott81​​​​

@sorryimacrapwriter​​​​​

@glitterquadricorn​​​​​

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm​​​​​

@alyssaj23​​​​​

@sea040561​​​​​

@princess76179​​​​​

@thisismysecrethappyplace​​​​​

@sarahp879​​​​​

@malfoysqueen14​​​​​

@ellallheart​​​​​

@breezy1415​​​​​

@marvelmayo​​​​​

@lyniboy​​​​​

@paintballkid711​​​​

Charles Xavier

@bohemianrhapsody86​​​​

@lenawiinchester​​​​​​

TSMU

@tilltheendwilliwrite​​​​​

@allinhishands​​

@solaramoonset​​

@halfofwhatisayismeaningless​​

[bluemoon-writer]

Childhood Friends AU: MariKim

Part 2- in which the class discovers the MariKim friendship

You can find Part 1 here

Here is background head canons about their families

-it started in the wake of a disaster

-Francois DuPont is a magnet for crazy shit, to the point that many students are starting to become immune to some of the more mild occurrences

-a giant boulder crashes through the window one day and rolls across the room and out the door, crushing the front row of desks in the process and passing inches from Ms. Bustier

-students scream and jump, more in surprise than actual fear at this point, but back away from the windows (Marinette and Adrien both immediately dash out of the room)

-all except Chloe, who didn’t move a muscle when the boulder flew through the window, and Sabrina lays praise on her like usual

“Wow, Chloe, you’re so brave. You weren’t shocked or scared at all when that boulder flew right past you!”

“Pff, Sabrina, I’m Queen Bee, the only thing that could shock me is if Ladybug turned out to be some weakling like Dupain-Cheng”

-The class is used to ignoring Chloe at this point

-Except Kim is high on adrenaline and doesn’t want to listen to Chloe insult his friend when she isn’t even here to defend herself

-Tells Chloe to shove it

“Marinette is super brave! Remember that traffic akuma from two weeks ago? she ran straight at it so the class could get away. Last week, Marinette literally saved you from the lunch lady you akumatized by throwing a chair at her. And bravest of all, yesterday when I accidently broke one of my mom’s sculptures, Marinette took the blame for me!”

-Chloe is not impressed, “Of course you of all people would come to her defense. If she impresses you so much why don’t you go back to being best friends with her instead of glasses over there?”

-Kim is visibly confused “I…what are you talking about? I never stopped being best friends with Marinette?”

-Chloe is more focused on the dirt that’s on her sweater at this point. She rolls her eyes and drags Sabrina off to the bathroom to makeout clean her sweater

-Alya, who had been getting ready to jump into the argument, is looking more confused than Kim.

“What do you mean you’re best friends with Marinette? Everyone knows that Max is your best friend, and Marinette is mine.”

(Alya is just a bit jealous, because she’s still the ‘new kid’ and while she gets along with the other girls in the class, she’s not super close with them)

-Now Kim is really lost. “Uh, Max isn’t my best friend?”

- :0

“Kim! How could you say that, he’s right there! Max are you okay?”

-Max is also confused. “Yes? Why would I not be? It would be illogical of me to expect Kim to call me his best friend when he is not mine.”

-the classes current mental statues: ??*confusion*???

-Nino is the voice of reason, “Who’s you’re best friend then Max?”

“Markov of course! I spent years programming him, he knows everything about me, and I know everything about him.”

-Markov’s eyes turn into hearts for a moment. “I concur, Max is also my best friend!”

-The class is fucking exhausted, Kim is beaming at Alya

“Wait, but that doesn’t explain how Marinette is your best friend! You never even talk to each other.”

-Nino is subtly trying to get Alya to stop, but when Alya hears something that doesn’t add up she pushes until she learns the truth. It’s great for a journalist, but it lands her in some embarrassing situations sometimes.

-Kim is flabbergasted. The idea of him and Marinette not being bffs is so foreign to him that his brain physically can’t process it. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish trying to figure out where to begin explaining their history

-Alix rolls her eyes and comes to his rescue. “Those two dorks have been tight since before primary school. Be glad they don’t act like best friends, trust me, I went to primary school with them and they almost burned the building down.”

“Hey! That was…Marinette’s fault.”

“What was my fault?”

-Marinette is back, the class was so absorbed in the drama they didn’t even notice ladybug defeating the akuma right outside the window

-Kim is a smug bastard. “Burning down our primary school”

“WHAT! I PREVENTED you from burning the school down. You lit a match in the art FULL OF PAPER MACHE SCULPTURES!”

“Uh-huh, and when you blew the match out you dropped it in the trash, that was full of paper. Which then caught on fire.”

-This argument lasts for several minutes while Ms. Bustier recovers from the shock of almost being flattened by a giant rock

-She decides she needs to medicate with a bottle of vodka, so class is cancelled for the rest of the day

-No one tells Marinette about the argument that happened just before she walked in

-Alya watches as Marinette and Kim walk into the bakery together

-Rose swoons, “That’s so sweet. Do you think they’ll date? It would be so romantic!”

-Juleka nods in agreement, secretly hoping they do so that she can ask them for pointers on how to ask out your best friend

-Nino been knew, so he doesn’t say anything and just asks Alya if she wants to go to the movies

-Adrien got back after Marinette and has no idea what is happening

-Likewise, Ivan was listening to music and didn’t even realize an argument happened.

-Nathaniel is hit with sudden inspiration for his comic and rushes off to write it all down before he forgets

-Max and Alix…don’t care. They already knew and are more surprised by their classmate’s surprise than anything else

-Lila mentally makes Kim her new target

Why the class didn’t realize Mari and Kim are such good friends:

 1. Most of them didn’t go to the same primary school as Mari and Kim. The only people who went to their primary school were Chloe, Nino, and Alix. But even then, Chloe didn’t arrive until the second year of primary school and Nino didn’t transfer until the fourth year. 

Alix was there the first year, but was constantly switching schools when she was younger due to her father traveling for work.She doesn’t come to Francois Dupont until the second year when her father takes a permanent position at the louve so that she can stay at the same school for a while

2.  For the first two years at their Lycee they were in different classes.No one saw them interact much at school. They ate lunch together, but most of the time they went to Marinette’s house for it since it was so close. 

and sure Marinette went to Kim’s games consistently, but no one else did so they had no way of knowing just how often Mari went. And the few times other students went to the games they just assumed Marinette was there for the whole team. Because Mari’s just nice like that.

3. Even when they were in the same class again, they didn’t hang out. This is partly due to the classes’ own perceptions, they already don’t think Mari and Kim are tight, but both are friendly people so they don’t find it strange when they wave at each other or have small conversations before and after class.

Plus they have other friends. The two years in different classes did them some good. They learned that they don’t have to constantly be hanging out.They see each other enough outside of school that they figure they can use their in-class time to hang out with their other friends.

4. The Class is Oblivious. This is almost the same as the previous point, but slightly different. Whether or no Marinette and Kim are friends doesn’t really matter, it wouldn’t change anything in the eyes of their classmates, so no one is bother trying to figure out how close they are. 

They don’t see them interact much so they assume they aren’t close

This is gonna be the last part, but I couldn’t resist that Lila bit, so there’s gonna be a Part 3 ig lol

Also, look out for my upcoming post about Max and Markov’s deep friendship lmfao

[nosleepuntilvacation]

Hi! I've got another Mettaton×reader request for you, if you don't mind. The setting is that Mettaton gets badly damaged, and of course his crush is worried sick. They insist on helping Alphys with the repairs, even if it's small things like handing her the right tool or something. The repairs take a week or two, and the crush just camps over at Alphys' lab the whole time. But anyway! The scenario I want you to actually write is when Mettaton is finally rebooted and wakes up. (cont.)

(cont.) So when Mettaton comes to, his crush is sitting next to whatever table/bed/thing he’s laying on. They go “Thank god!” and probably tear up a bit, smiling like a fool. Mettaton is like, touched that they’ve waited for him like that. When he asks about it, the crush gets all flustered. Mettaton ofc teases them, and as the conversation/banter goes on they accidentally mention at some point that they helped Alphys with the repairs… Que more flustering and eventually (cont. IM SORRY)

(cont.) eventually they end up telling him how much he means to them. In their nervousness, they get a bit rambly and end up confessing their romantic feelings to him. Then they hang their head and don’t look up again until Mettaton tells that he feels the same. Then they’re both awkward and happy and they smooch and stuff. // Sorry if this long, 3-ask explanation is unclear and sorry this is so dramatic. Thank you for considering this.             

…this has been sitting in my inbox for over a year hasn’t it

dishonor on me, dishonor on my miltank, etc. etc. etc.

But I guess it’s better late than never…?

Below the cut: A Storm Leads to a Rainbow

(TW: Discussions and descriptions of a car accident, and the emotional and physical injuries resulting from it; brief mention of alcohol)

Two synthetic eyes open, and their owner groans, clutching his forehead. “Ugh… what happened?”

He looks in his immediate line of sight. The space-printed sheets on the bed he currently occupies, the posters displaying different franchises he likes (his own included), the star-shaped stickers on the ceiling… yep, this is definitely his guest room in Alphys’ place.

“But why–?” He reaches down and touches his hip. Just as he suspected, his charging cable is plugged securely into there. He barely has enough time to register this before he hears a familiar voice.

“Mettaton? Thank god!”

He sits up and looks over towards the source of the voice…

…and he promptly sees you sitting in one of his pink beanbag chairs, smiling like a weight had just been lifted away. And was he seeing things, or were those tears in your eyes?

“[Y/N]? I wasn’t expecting to see you here, sweetheart.” He smirks a bit. “Have you appointed yourself the president of my fan club? I’ll have you know that you’re competing with me for that position.”

“Heh…” To you, the sound of his voice is exactly what you need right now. You pull out your phone and open your text message program. “Just gonna let Alphys know you’re awake. She’s off jogging with Papyrus.”

After a few chuckles at his own joke, his smile soon becomes more genuine. “Thank you for thinking of me, though.”

“Of course.” You put your phone away after sending a message, and your smile becomes a little more sad as you try to ward off the rock forming in your throat. “When I heard about what had happened to you, I was so worried, and I couldn’t just…” You take a few deep breaths to keep the dam from bursting.

At this point, he can’t help but frown. “If you don’t mind me asking… what did happen to me, anyway? The last thing I remember was Bryan and I driving home, and before I knew it, our car tipped sideways. My whole body was in pain, I heard Bryan calling Alphys… and then I blacked out.” His hand clenches the mattress. “Is Bryan okay, by the way?”

“Yes. He had to visit the ER, but he wasn’t hurt too badly, and they let him go home after a few days. Anyway…”

After swallowing your nerves, you begin to explain the full story.

A little over a week ago, you had been visiting Alphys and Undyne and watching a movie with them. At one point in the movie, Alphys received a panicked phone call from Bryan, an orange mammal monster who seemed to be Mettaton’s frenemy of sorts. The two had been driving together to their respective homes after a production at the local theater when a drunk driver veered into their lane and crashed into Bryan’s car. When Alphys headed out to help, the scene indeed looked grisly, with roadside assistance having to help put the car upright again - and it was clear that at least half of the car would need repairs. Paramedics were helping Bryan into an ambulance…

“…and when she brought you back, I almost couldn’t look.” You shudder. “You looked like something chewed you up and spit you back out again!”

With a sneer, Mettaton folds his arms. “Oh, come on. I don’t taste that bad! Ask anyone who’s ever had one of my world-famous face steaks!” He taps his chin in thought. “Although, maybe I shouldn’t have made them so expensive at first…”

You chuckle nervously; at the time, you definitely wouldn’t have laughed if someone had made that joke, but now that Mettaton’s awake, the whole thing feels a little easier to put in the past.

“Honestly, though…” His expression softens into concern. “…my body looked that bad when Alphys brought me in?” He holds his hands in front of his face and wiggles his fingers, before peeking under the blankets and presumably checking his feet in a similar way. Next, he grabs a handheld mirror from the nightstand and studies his face, brushing his hair out of one of his eyes.

“Yeah…” You wipe away a few tears forming near your eyes. “If Alphys and I hadn’t fixed you up right away…” A shudder takes over your spine; you’re still not entirely sure how all the intricacies of his body work, and this was one situation where experimenting was not an option.

For a moment, Mettaton is silent…

…only to give you an odd look.

“Wait a minute… you helped Alphys with the repairs?”

“Uh–! Well!” Oh god, does he already know what you think of him? “She did most of the big work! I was just there to help hold you still, or to get her the right tools, or to keep an eye on you to make sure you were still stable while she was out getting more supplies and stuff. Undyne helped, too, when she wasn’t at work. Alphys and I took turns watching over you the first couple of nights, while you were still in somewhat critical condition…”

Mettaton blinks. “You even stayed over?”

“Y-yeah… I haven’t actually been home since I heard about the crash.”

By now, you can feel the floodgates open, tears rolling down your face as you explain yourself.

“I wanted to help Alphys as much as I could… I was so scared. You could have died if we hadn’t done enough in time, and if I hadn’t helped and you ended up dying… I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself if that happened. Especially because you’re my friend, and, well…”

Despite the more reasonable side of your mind not feeling ready to say it, your emotions are in full force right now, and you just blurt it out before you can stop yourself.

“I don’t know when it started, but I really wanted to tell you I love you.”

And with that, you lower your head and finally allow yourself to let out some quiet sobs as the many emotions of the past several days swamp over you: relief from knowing that Mettaton is most likely okay now, fear and sadness from the fact that he probably wouldn’t have made it if Alphys hadn’t gotten there in time, and that hard-to-describe sensation of knowing that, in the heat of the moment, you just confessed your romantic feelings towards your longtime crush. Your body and mind are just frozen like a slow computer as you try to quell this maelstrom of emotions.

It gets to the point where you can barely register it as Mettaton whispers your name and gently takes hold of your hand.

“Shh… everything’s going to be okay, darling. It was horrifying, and I was scared, too… but I feel so much better now.” A smooth thumb strokes the top of your hand as he continues. “In fact… as of late, I’ve realized that I’m in love with you, too.”

“R-really…?” You finally look up; despite your likely looking like an emotional wreck right now, Mettaton doesn’t seem to judge you for it, instead smiling.

“Absolutely, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to tell you for a little while; you’ve been such a wonderful friend to me. And knowing that you would go this far to help save my life… honestly, I’d do the same for you.”

A cheerful laugh escapes your throat; you’re not sure what to say, but you still manage a “Thank you…”

“And thank you, beautiful.”

For a few moments, neither of you are sure of what else to say amidst the glow of relief and new love, but eventually, Mettaton has a thought.

“Darling, when all of this has blown over a little more… would you, perhaps, like to go on a date with me? I can show you a few of my favorite places in town, and you can show me your favorites, if you’d like.”

“Sure.” There are still a few tears, but they come from a much happier place now. It’ll probably take a little while for everyone’s fears to disappear completely, but what’s important is that everyone is safe right now, and a potential tragedy has been averted.

Before you know it, you wrap your arms around Mettaton in a big hug, which he soon returns in kind before leaning in close to your face. He stops himself and looks into your eyes as if asking for permission, and when you smile and nod, he presses his lips to yours. It’s not the smoothest of kisses, but most first kisses typically aren��t.

Either way, you’re definitely not complaining.

You’re so lost in the kiss that you don’t hear the sound of the front door opening and closing in the other room, nor do you hear the sound of footsteps. Shortly afterwards, though, a small eep does get your attention.

The two of you break off the kiss and look towards the doorway, where Alphys is standing, still in her jogging outfit, with wide eyes.

“Oh! Uh… am I interrupting something?”

As you wave hello to Alphys, Mettaton gently smiles. “Alphys, darling, I’m so glad to see you. And don’t worry; I think everything’s going to be just fine.”

Alphys returns the smile. “Yeah… I’m so glad you’re awake. I’ll probably want to keep an eye on you for the next day or two, though. Just to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“That’s all right. As long as I have everyone cheering for me, I can absolutely manage this!”

You gently squeeze his hand, and he smiles at you.

After a second or two, Alphys pulls out her phone. “So, uh, want to order some pizza or something? I can shower while we wait for it to get here.”

Mettaton rests a hand on his soul casing. “Darling, I haven’t eaten in days, so that sounds absolutely perfect right now.”

“That sounds good to me too,” you say with a nod.

“Great! Let me open the app…”

As you all begin to figure out what you want, you can already picture the delicious taste of the food in your mind. Not only that, you can also picture some of the exciting, lovely things in your and Mettaton’s future… a future that you helped to secure for him.

Sometimes, even a harsh rainstorm can leave behind a beautiful rainbow.

[xaviersystem]

7 Day Prayer Miracle Review Amanda Ross (2020)

7 Day Prayer Miracle by Amanda Ross

Does it Work?

Almost everyone is familiar with the word Prayer, as well as the concept of Prayer. So when we come across someone offering a 7 Day Prayer Miracle, it is possible to have some questions popping up in the minds of people. Does it work? Is it effective? Why it is so popular? So I thought of bringing this blog 7 Day Prayer Miracle Review — Does it work?

So before we proceed, here is a synopsis about the product:· 

Product: 7 Day Prayer Miracle Review· 

Author: Amanda Ross· 

Bonus: Yes· 

Official Website: 7dayprayermiracle

What Will You Get From 7 Day Prayer Miracle?

Here in 7 Day Prayer Miracle coaching, you get a shocking tragedy that manifests itself in a great blessing.

It contains a prayer composed of four sentences. This helps approximately many ordinary people to highlight the miracles of health, finances, and relationships.

This miracle program gets related to the secrets of Archangel Michael. Hence, you get a blazing stream of miracles.

You get heavenly wisdom to show the fairy tale. This helps to choose the best pair of dreams.

It helps to boost your life. And you can spread your wings and move on to the next level.

You experience good, irreversible changes in your life by this guidance. There is no place for negativity in your life.

>>> Learn More About 7 Day Prayer Miracle <<<

Manifesting Miracles by Using Prayer

When The Secret first came out, it renewed hope in millions of people for manifesting the things that would make their lives more livable. A few years on, most of those millions have lost hope, again. The “Law of Attraction” seemed to be missing something.

More than 2,500 years ago, the Prophet Daniel discovered a method of prayer that worked miracles and gave him prophetic visions of the future. Not only was he able to save his own life and that of all the wise men of Babylon, he told the king what he had dreamed and then told him what the dream meant.

We now know why the Law of Attraction works when it does. We also know why the prayers of most people don’t work. This knowledge is power — the power to manifest miracles at will. The 7 Day Prayer Miracle program contains distilled wisdom that details the differences between the two halves of reality so you can know where you stand in relationship to heaven.

Never before have we had such clarity in understanding about how prayer and miracles work. Yes, this is exciting stuff.

Imagine taking the guesswork out of your life. Imagine setting a path and having it appear right in front of your eyes. Prayer done the right way is the most powerful tool we could ever imagine.

>>> Tap or Click Here to Start the 7 Day Prayer Miracle <<<

How the Course Can Help You

Well, the course has:

1. Verified Techniques:

The big problem we’ve had with programs like “positive thinking” or “law of attraction” is that they remained vague on how to get to the desired state of mind. There was too much “pie-in-the-sky,” feel-good stuff that didn’t have a sufficient connection to the real world.

The 7 Day Prayer Miracle requires that you develop and exercise the ability to achieve the proper feelings for delivering prayers that match your conscious thoughts. The course shows you exactly how to do this with several, step-by-step exercises. This has been the area of disconnect in so many other programs

The exercises in this course raise your critical awareness of your environment and your own internal feelings so you can know when you’re aiming your prayer correctly.

2. Establishes Within You the Proper Skills:

The reason why the 7 Day Prayer Miracle works and has so many enthusiastic testimonials is because of the deep, spiritual understanding behind it — an understanding grounded in science and critical thinking.

No matter what your starting point, you will find yourself moving further from “lack” all the way to “abundance” — not merely physical abundance, but spiritual abundance of unconditional love, utter humility, perfect responsibility and fearless confidence. The map has been laid out. All you have to do is to walk the path.

The 7 Day Prayer Miracle is not only about wealth, health and relationships. It repairs the basic issues in your thinking and attitudes that would otherwise prevent effective prayer and, all too often, result in self-sabotaging behavior that spoils any gains you may make. All of these pitfalls have been handled.

Needless to say, the spiritual half of reality has its own rules and quite often doesn’t work at all like the physical half. This program is the manual for understanding what’s different and how to use those differences to your own benefit.

Because we each have our own set of bad habits, the course book covers a broad range of exercises to strengthen your awareness of your own thoughts, attitudes, intentions and — most importantly — your subconscious “feeling” attention. The 7 Day Prayer Miracle does these things far better than any book or program we’ve seen before.

Are you a Book Lover?

5+1 Stories That Prove Miracles Actually Happen:

Tap or Click Here to Get Free eBook

3. Proper Preparation:

No amount of thinking will ever accomplish anything truly worthwhile. Thought is a useful tool, but it’s only the starting point. And you can’t fix a great dinner in a dirty kitchen.

Bad habits and bad attitudes can cloud your spiritual vision and prevent your message from reaching heaven.

It’s a bit like 50 very loud people shouting while you’re trying to talk to someone on your cell phone. Sometimes, you can’t even hear yourself think.

The 7 Day Prayer Miracle helps you clear out not only bad habits, but also the daily garbage of stuck attention on little crimes we all commit from time to time — like being late for work, not taking out the garbage, forgetting about a commitment we’ve made, and more.

Becoming more aware of our stuck attention points, we can actively clean them up and ensure that our prayers make a direct, clear connection to heaven.

4. Reliability and Dependability:

By having you acquaint yourself more thoroughly with your own mind, ego and spirit, you will find yourself capable of using every part of each prayer with precision skill and powerful, spiritual effect.

Like a ship finally allowed to leave sight of land, you will enter spiritual territory you never knew existed. You will come to think of your body as merely your current vessel. And the control switches of physical reality will seem as real and natural as any physical device you’ve ever mastered.

>>> Tap or Click Here to Discover the Magical 4 Sentence Prayer That Instantly Grants Your Heart’s Fiercest Desires <<<

The Course Contents of 7 Day Miracle

Learn how to Grabbing The Attention of Heaven ( The ebook that gives you a crash course on your relationship to the spiritual world, to God and to His angels, and how to exercise your ability to connect directly to heaven).

· A Prayer Journal (a PDF journal that includes 7 prayers for 7 days, designed to give you miracle results).·

  · Divine Hearing — How to Recognize Crucial Messages from Your Angels (The ebook that helps you recognize messages from your angels).

· Divine Numbers — How to Interpret Angelic Sequences and Unleash Their Blessings (ebook that helps you interpret sequences of numbers and individual numbers like 11:11, 555, etc).

· The Prayer of Daniel (a handy, 1-page reprint of the biblical prayer that Prophet Daniel was using to achieve his miraculous results. This is the template upon which all effective prayer is based).

· A Song of Shifts (MP3 file, angelic music, using the “miracle frequency.” If you like, this can be played while you are performing your own prayers to help enter the theta wave band of meditative thought — the prayerful state of mind)

· Chances are you would be quite amazed to have so much content included for such a reasonable price.

>>> Tap or Click Here to Start the 7 Day Prayer Miracle <<<

Features of the 7 Day Prayer Miracle Course· 

When you have the power of prayer, you never have to be worried again.

· Once you learn how to pray, prosperity flows in to you from an infinite source

· The 7 Day Prayer Miracle shows you how to choose the right option

· You learn to cultivate the right feelings all the time. When you learn to have the right feeling, things seem to go very right.

· Life suddenly becomes perfect, almost all the time.

· With prayer you can invite better health and healing for your body

· Boost Your Love Life With Prayer

>>> Tap or Click Here to Discover the Magical 4 Sentence Prayer That Instantly Grants Your Heart’s Fiercest Desires <<<

7 Day Prayer Miracle Testimonials

From the website of 7 Day Prayer Miracle, here is a reproduction of the testimonials of some of the individuals:

“I was only 5 days away from being declared a bankrupt. Almost all my savings gone. I then stumbled on to Amanda’s teaching. Just 2 prayers later, the bank actually cancelled my debt. Holy smokes, this works!” — Leanne R.

“I had terrible, terrible fights with my husband and I was on the verge of leaving him… Then one day I stumbled on to Amanda’s writings. I consumed it, prayed the prayers and now not only has my marriage been restored — the relationship sizzles in a way not seen since the honeymoon.” — Jane A.

“I’d always wanted to connect to the divine and talk to angels, but I never could. After the 7 Day Prayer Miracle, it was almost a suffocating blanket was removed. I can even now feel the breath of God and delve into the secrets of the universe.” — May R.

“I was left destitute by my cheating husband. He left me with my 2 young kids and moved in with his mistress half his age. After going through the 7 Day Prosperity Miracle, cheques suddenly came in the mail. There was sudden mysterious deposits in my bank account. Now, I have more than enough for me and my children to live a good life.” — Miranda A.

>>>Get Instant Access to 7 Day Prayer Miracle <<<

Conclusion

The 7 Day Prayer Miracle is a complete system that’s more comprehensive than virtually every other book in this genre… Of course, the number of pieces alone is not enough. Each piece needs to be valuable and worth your time.

7 Day Prayer Miracle takes control of your life to improve. It has already helped approximately 100,000 women and men to fulfill the purpose of their lives.

You have a great opportunity to take the first step of a new movement. It comes with a 100 percent money back guarantee.

If for some reason, you are not satisfied with this program, the money will be refunded immediately. This is the claim of the seller organization. You have nothing to lose except for problems.

So go ahead and place your order 7-day Prayer Miracle. Do not miss the opportunity to take advantage of the wonderful wonders of your life.

>>>Get Instant Access to 7 Day Prayer Miracle <<<

7-day Prayer Miracle

SOURCE: https://youtu.be/iHEUgA_4eSA