#trying to understand that just flashed before my eyes and trying to rationalize it

[daeagon]

My Reactions to the Season Finale of TDofJ

Time for the SeaSON FINaLe

😮‍💨 I wasn’t planing on doing this, but here I am

How did Jackal escape the Boats? I love the car chase but you get up a boat one last ep

😭😭😭😭😭

WHY IS JACKAL HOMOPHOBIC?! How hurt you!! I’m sorry ok! Please stop killing gay men!

Something something Bianca signed up to help people and has been told to do whatever it takes and she does that to a T, but goes too far, people die and she is dealing with the guilt and consequences, she does what she has been conditioned to do, continue, she is/has lost her humanity for this job and for what?

Say that again? (I can’t find the gif, but you know it)

*scarsactic* wow! It’s almost like that’s how J was in the army and Bianca is a mirror, woah

‘I quit’ SLAYYY QUEENNN!!! You leave them!

but now who’s the reckless loner??? It was a self fulfilling prophecy! She has become the Jackal in her own way, also she has no resources now

IS THAT BRITISH FORUGN SECRETARY THE MOLE?! He’s sus! Also love the music

HE IS THE MOLE! ITS A CONSPIRACY!! ‘Your friends’ WHO?! So he’s leading this, but why? What do they gain?

also Bianca’s going rogue I just know it

I’m so confused! Could the friends be someone the Jakcal has killed? But he was with the people who wanted UDC dead? He’s such a good villain that chuckle!? ‘let her deal with him’ CHILLS CHILLS! I’m so scared for Bianca! This feels like a trap

OH SHIT KID NOOO! what kind of Dr. Strange car flip is that?

Wow, that poor car, poor Jackal!

‘I’d say it was a pleasure, but it was not’ I love her already! Slayyyyyy

She’s cutting the brother off!! 😮

he’s going to the police, he’s telling, he’s going villain I can feel it!

Oh shit, daddy issues, that was cold Nuria! Cold! Don’t do that

THE CAR JS ON FIRE ITS GOING TO EXPLODE GET OUT!

calling the police is not as reassuring as you think it is

THE KIND RANDOM MAN LIVED!! Yippie! You might have some humanity in you yet!

this man just goes around stealing cars and seducing people

Awww I love Bianca and her husband!

MIRRORS TO THIS BEING JACKALS LAST JOB!!! 👀

identity change time!!

I could analyze that, I could, but I won’t (that being J’s scream as he pushes the evidence over a ledge)

oh no, is this another J in the wilderness ep? Bc I hated that time in Hungary

HE PUT HIS WEDDING RING ON!! BLENDING OF HIS 2 LIVES YESSSSSS

Their suspicion! They’ve seen the image! (Which some other have pointed out but it doesn’t really look like him)

but it’s interesting that normal people are being so suspicious of others and thinking twice about helping them, people turning on each other (what comes to mind is Nazi Germany and people snitching on their neighbors) very interesting!

I love the family dynamic! I wish this way my family!

DONT ANSWER THE DOOR!!! OH NO ITS ISOBEL

She’s so awkward, why is the husband hitting the 🧍‍♂️

I love that old couple! Please don’t kill them 🙏

NOOOO!

‘This will all be over soon’ FORSHADOWI N HELLO??

(I forgot to keep adding oops)

‘for the ones who have died’ GURL SHUT THE HELL UP YOU DO NOT CARE ABOUT THEM!!

‘No’ YES!!! TELL THEM NO BIANCA!! I genuinely love a black woman telling someone in the government no!!

WHY ARE YOU GOING TOT HE BORDER WHEN YOUR RUNNING FROM THE POLICE?!

please don’t kill them! 🙏

don’t smoke kids! Remember that!

THEY REMIND HIM OF HIS PARENTS 😭😭😭WERE?!! Are they dead! Probably

DAMN! That’s cold, but understandable

HOLY SHIT! SHE STABBED HIM IN THA BACK LITERALLY

This poor man, he’s been in a car crash, stabbed, he’s going through it

HE JUST PULLED IT OUT! DONT DO THST!! It’s keeping blood in! If you pull it out you’ll start bleeding out!

oh he angy

HE WAS REGAINING HUMANITY/NOT BURRYING IT AND HE GRTS STABBED IN THE BACK

’why couldn’t you have just let it go’ (that’s Bianca’s fatale flaw)

HE LOOKED AWAY ANSBABSFHAND

I don’t know how to feel about these events

DOES HE SEE HIS PARENTS?!!!

He’s always surrounded by bodies, that’s so sad

then immediately cut to Bianca’s family

’one last thing’ I’ve heard this before

The way J calls Nuria ‘my love’ 💕 I love it

‘Are you ok?’

YOU CAN SEE THE BLOOD FROM THE OPEN STAB WOUND?!! (I’m getting the ick from the idea of a stab wound in the shoulder I feel like I can feel it ick, also bc I’m left handed the thought of getting stabbed in the left shoulder ewww)

Something something him hiding his pain (real)

THIS PHONE CALL FEELS LIKE A GOODBY

Oh no! I feel so bad for him! Get him his wife!!

WELL SHIT! Bianca is in Spain! OH NO SHES GOING TO KIDNAP NURIA NOOOOO!

it’s a trap, none knows but Isabel and Vince (he’s also done absolutely nothing this season, which is sad bc I love him! He has so much potential)

As a person I was watching this with said ‘that’s going to go boom/make a big boom’

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨BIRD ALERT 🚨 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

BIRD ALERT!!!

It was in-fact a big boom

He’s on a bus now???? What is with these jumps? First from a boat chase to a car? Then this???

love the music as always 👌 this soundtrack is amazing!

BIRD tour bus!!!! BIRD ALERT!!

And he’s free to go?? These police need to step it up! How much is your budget anyways? Bc it’s far too much in the US

I LOVE THIS DETECTIVE WOMAN!!! She’s so done

VINCE ACTUSLLY DOES SOMETHING YIPPIE!! I also love him

SHIT

SHE KNOWS HIS NAME

SHE FOUND HIM OH SHIT! Confrontation time!!

He just dropped a gun into a bin 😭 he’s going home!

And he wants his money!

WHOS THAT OTHER WHITE WOMAN WHO ARE YOU! I don’t like you, I think she’s going to sell him out or working with the British foreign secretary dude

Is the good woman who’s been helping J is she a middle man?

This feels fishy, I don’t like it

NO NO NOOOOOO THEY GOT NURIA NOO GET AWAY FROL HER

WE DO WHAT THE JACKAL WOULD DO WE WAIT?!? THE PARALLELS TO JACKALS MISSION IN AFGANSIST AND DAKNERJDJFJFBDHFHFBDB

Do not touch Nuria, don’t even think about it!

What? B are you ok?

Ohhh she’s going against instructions!

he’s so getting away

*cough* *cough*

DONT DISS THE FUCKING BUSCITS!

why is she packing?? IS SHE LEAVING? NOW

slayyyy queen!

I’m so confused, the American woman left the hotel, and the man went up, is there a bomb there or something? I’m so confused

THR CARTOON PLAYING WHAT??

(I actually finished the show and have been going back to put my thoughts, but I’m feeling numb)

NURIA LEFT!! PLEASE TALK PLEASE! Also Girl where are you going? Your husband is an expert in this HE WAS TOO LATE!! It’s so tragic

HE LEFT THE BAG HE LEFT EVERYTHING BEHIND FFOR HER BUT HE WAS TOO LATE

im killing myself /j

Someone kill me now (like J is about to d-)

The person I was watching this with ‘don’t try need a warrant? (To B&E) Their secret service agents they don’t need a warrant”

SHES GONE AND SHE TOOK THE KID 😭😭

Oh? Oh no! That warning is a little late but I knew I liked you!!

hes leaving too

OH NO THE BROTHERS THERE! 1 how did you get it? 2 how long has bro been there 😭 3 your dead

yup

also I love Jackals turtleneck/shirt, it’s very gender

There are mother things I could say but I won’t for everyone’s sake

THE RED LIGHT

ITS THE READ LIGHT FROM THE OPENING

he’s just holeing up in his secret lair

the reflection and that red light akakensjsnnsdjsndb

BIANCA HE HAS A FAMILY!!

THE CONTRANS

YESSS ITS THE SCEENE!

HE CAN SEE HER/KNOWS/ IS ONE STEP AHEAD AND SHE ONLY SEES HERSELF LOOKING ABCK AT HER AND HE SEES HER FACE/LOOKS AT HER FOR THE FIRST TIME ANDNFJSJD

Anyone who were in charge of this decision/set design/camera angle deserves all of the awards!! All of them! This show is genuinely breathtaking and so beautiful!!

SHES IN HIS REFLECTION BUT SMALLER OH THE SYMBOLISM AND COMMENTSRY OF THE WORKD

she sees her reflection and turns away oh it just writes itself

THE SEXY NECK CRACK SIR I AM BARKING

oh the things he could do to me

The alarm is just going to make it easier for J to move around the house bc you can’t hear anything over it

I love that he’s just like tf are they doing now

hey bitches

THE RED LIGHT

Vince is dead, welp. You were cool while you were alive (we all expected this)

another scene from the opening

remember that time B went on a mission to take out Norman? Clearly she doesn’t

it’s so quiet, the house is also so dead and empty, the moonlight makes it feel dead

THE HORROR MIVOE VIBES

ohhhh she called him Duggan

‘why do you’ skzndbnsdbdb

for some reason my brain keeps thinking of ‘why do you persist after all I have done’ from Arcane 😭

‘because I like to win’ is that is? This really is a personal grudge for her now, not for the people who have died? Not to bring a criminal to justice? Wow

she charges in thinking she is the cat but she is in his house and he is the cat

Last resort

’it doesn’t have to end this way’ ‘it does’ ACORDING TO WHO

AND THEN YOU SHOOT EHT

BIANCAS DEAD

WHAT NOOOO

NO

I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THA

SHES NOT DEAD ( she is, I’ve already gone through this stage)

she’s dead

I genuinely feel numb, I loved Bianca! She made this show amazing! She was so fun! I loved her

all that for nothing

my current mood ^

AT LEASE BIANCA GOT TO SEE HIS FACE IG! She did win, but at what cost

this is so morbid, she’s really dead I can believe it but I don’t want to

WHAT ABOUT HER FAMILY!!!!

NURIA NOOOOOOOOO! Welp season 2 find your family

oh he angy.

Noooooooo this poor man, he’s so sad, the wet cat energy! HES CRYING

Please Nuria

Ok first of all get your suitcase/gun back, you’ll need it for season 2! I don’t make the rules the plot does

ANOTHER CAR CRACK WHAT THE HECK! Does this man ever get a break!!

you really need to focus on the roads damn

Who was that other car? BIANCA!! 🤡

OU NO ISABELLS IN CHARGE OH NO OSI WATCH OUT!!

Ohhh get her Osi!

Coveruppppp!

BIANCA KNEW IT WAS A TRAP SHE PLANNED FOR IT 🤡

S2 Osi vs Isabell but Osi is rebelling calling it now

THE PLANT!

that feels symbolic, but I don’t know how, was it all an act? ‘I killl everything’????

Osi working undercover to trance Bianca’s steps???

The music ohh?

where are they?

😳

legggsssss

I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES IN A WALMART PARKING LOT

THATS SO HOT

I’ll bring her home by 8 vs your daughter calls me daddy too 😭😭😭😭😭

I NEED HIM I NEED HIS GENDER I NEED HIM I NEED TO BE HIM

ONC CHANCE PLEASE! JUST ONE PLEASE

I AM GOING INSAME. IMM LOSING MY MIND

THAT FIT

*hyperventelates*

I am not ok

I think this had changed the trajectory of my life

I’m never getting over this

HE JSIT WALKED PAST 2 POLICE OFFICERS THETES A JOKE BROO

he’s so cunty

serving

he’s so free! And light and happy!!

WHAT IN THE GOOD OMENS THAT IS A CROWLEY LOOK OMAJDMDKDNDNNDDBDBDHDBDRBDBDDBBDDBFBDSHHS

IM SHAKING

are they besties?? Slayyyy

I actually love that idea!

I need them, I love their friendship

also yeah, how did you survive??

wait, how does she know? WAS SHE RESPOSIBLE? IS SHE GOING TO BETRY HIM

HE TOOK HIS SUNGLASSES OFF! HE TRUSTS HER YESSSSS

ohhhh they’re going after the people who hired them yessssss REVENTGE

her name is Zina cool (it’s so sad that I’ve only just remembered it)

FIND YOUR FAMILY AND GET REVENGE!

that is how you do an ending

I am going to loop that song into oblivion, I need that ending injected into my veins!

THE GENDER

Nuria fumbled so hard damn

this is genuinely such an amazing show, it was a journey

I am so ready for Season 2!!!

[invoncible]

Hi I’m a big fan of your fics ! Love how you wrote the characters! Would it be ok if I request Mark (and the mark various if possible please if not no worries ^^) meeting OG female Tamaranean Reader please 🙏

MARK GRAYSON meeting STARFIRE ! fem! reader ✧˚.

— thank u for ur request !! i'm just gonna do mark for now if that's okay. i loooooove starfire she's so iconic ugh throwback to 2003 teen titans !!

"something's approaching our atmosphere. fast." cecil informed mark over his earpiece. "intercept it for me, will you?"

mark rolled his eyes at the director's casual tone for something potentially world-threatening (he hoped it wasn't another viltrumite) and shot up into the sky.

a ball of fire funneled around the alien crashing down. he floated right below your line of impact, shaking his arms and preparing for a big catch.

within seconds, you crashed into him. your forearms were bound in thick metal cuffs, leaving little room to maneuver or fight back. your flight path was thrown off, clumsily tumbling through the clouds.

"stop!" mark yelled over the rush of wind. "shit—hot, hot, hot!" he hissed to himself. who would have thought a meteoric projective burning up on entry would be hot?

you responded in some foreign language; it sounded like gibberish to mark.

"what the fuck did she say?" cecil droned in his ear and mark assumed he turned to his team, barking, "someone get a translation on that!"

you stared at him expectantly, grunting in annoyance when he didn't respond. your legs connected with his stomach, kicking him down to the earth. he fell like a rock in water and you zoomed off into the distance in a flash of green light.

"wait!" mark gasped, throwing off the rubble atop his chest and soaring after you. it was fairly easy to catch up to you, hindered by the cuffs on your hands. he grabbed your ankle the minute he got close enough, pulling you back to him. "we come in peace!"

"...this is our planet, mark." cecil deadpanned in his ear.

you whirled on him, pummeling him with the binds. he groaned, shaking his head of the ache. he spotted you descending to a random beach and followed you.

when you noticed him, you backed up defensively, watching him with a careful eye.

he tilted his head in confusion, holding his hands up in surrender. "woah. i'm not trying to hurt you; i wanna help."

your eyes searched his and he assumed you didn't understand him either. he approached you slowly, taking your arms in his hands. he stretched them towards him and raised his own, slicing through the metal in one swift motion.

the restraints fell into the sand below with a soft chfff. you rubbed your wrists, pleased but not completely relaxed.

mark grinned. "better, right?"

your eyes flickered to his, a frown on your lips as you hurriedly spoke to him in that foreign language.

he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "i'm sorry, i... don't understand."

you rolled your eyes and pulled him in, your thumb on his lips. you waited for him to pull away, tilting your head questioningly. he threw all rational thought in the garbage and leaned in. you kissed him roughly, like you had an agenda.

you pulled back and shoved him back. his ass hit the sand, spluttering as he looked up at you. "what the—"

you towered over him. "if you wish not to be destroyed, you will leave me alone."

mark remained there in the sand, head reeling. "um... so what was the kiss for?"

"kiss?"

"what we just did?" he followed up, rising to his feet and dusting the sand off his thighs and lap.

"my people learn languages through lip to lip contact." you explained hurriedly, already positioning yourself to take off once more.

"okay, hold on a second," he caught you before you managed to escape. "are you serious?"

you ripped your hand away from him, disgust etched on your features. "no, i am y/n."

mark laughed a little to himself. "still a bit rusty with the language, huh? um... how many tries would it take to get it right?"

you stared at him, unimpressed. "what are you meaning?"

all you could see was the cheeky, nervous smile on his lips despite the confident step he put forward. you grew amused by his antics, crossing your arms over your chest as you heard him out.

he scratched the back of his neck, his other arm resting on his hip. "i'm just saying, i'm here to help you adjust to earth. and i also took spanish in high school."

you raised an eyebrow, smiling.

"just saying." mark gave you a lopsided grin.

© invoncible

[concretejunglefm]

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒… 01

Summary: When you were convinced to visit a male strip club, you didn’t anticipate that the guy you locked eyes with on stage and who subsequently pulled you up for a routine, would turn out to be the same guy whose roommate advert you’d be responding to less than 24 hours later.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: nothing really other than some mentions of suggestive dance moves at a strip club.

WC: 3.2k.

AN: Alright, so I’m not sure how many parts this will have. All I know is that this is for fun I hope you enjoy Noah being a lovable himbo.

Dividers: silent-stories.

Fic Masterlist

ROOMMATE WANTED

Are you struggling with parental issues, a questionable job, broken hopes and dreams, or perhaps hiding your pain behind a morbid sense of humor? If so, you might just be the perfect roommate for me!

Conditions:

No crazy people, but you must be willing to help deter a few crazy exes.

My dog must like you.

Food policy: what’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is mine.

Perks:

You’ll have a private bedroom and bathroom.

There's an outdoor pool and an inflatable pool for when the main pool is being cleaned.

An outdoor bar that is fully stocked. 

A grumpy neighbor next door who’s always ready to offer unsolicited advice and openly judge your life choices.

When you answered the Craigslist ad for a roommate, you must have been on the verge of insanity because no rational person would have responded to that ad, would they?

It doesn’t alleviate your concerns at all when you receive a response from the poster, not even twenty minutes later. First, they thank you for your interest, and then they send you a time and date for a potential meetup and viewing.

Well, at least if they’re a serial killer, they work swiftly, ensuring you don’t have to struggle to find a new place before your eviction notice expires.

With a huff, you slump back into your desk chair and your eyes fall upon the pile of papers, the eviction notice sitting atop them all.

Your original landlord had been a kind and understanding old man, though he may have been a bit too lenient with the rent at times. However, everything changed when he passed everything on to his son. Suddenly, you were facing stricter rent deadlines, increased prices, and cuts to the services included. You were barely able to keep up with the demands until you were presented with the eviction notice.

Craigslist became your last resort, and a desperate one at that. You either had the good fortune to catch Moby Dick in the initial hours of browsing the ad’s, or you were about to be pulled in and devoured by sharks.

Reaching for the notice, you push it aside to reveal a flyer for a live male strip show. Four shirtless guys with various tattoos across their hands, arms, chest, and even necks pose in the picture. Their latest show is tonight, and you quickly snap a picture of the flyer before sending it to the group chat.

You: I need a night out. Anyone else? Troy: Hot, sweaty, tattooed covered men grinding on me? Count me in! Brooke: I’ll bring the baby oil. Troy: Why do you need baby oil? Brooke: In case they run out, duh. You: I’m already having regrets.

By 9pm, you find yourself entering a club that’s already half full. You hadn’t anticipated the ambiance; you always assumed such places to be seedy and tucked behind alleyways. However, this one was high-end and well-decorated, though dimly lit to enhance the atmosphere.

Partially distracted by the music and the bustling crowd, you miss your name being called. However, from the corner of your eye, you catch Troy ushering you to join him over at the bar.

“What on earth are you drinking?” you ask, watching him sip on a colorful fruit cocktail.

“A Big Dipper,” he flashes a cheeky grin and gestures his head down towards the bartender, a man with long hair and wearing a ball cap, sporting a Lord of the Rings shirt. “I wouldn’t mind trying his, if you know what I mean.”

Troy winks, and you laugh, shaking your head as you gaze back at the crowd of people settling into their seats at the various tables scattered throughout the club which surround the main stage area in the center. “Where’s Brooke?”

“She went to ‘freshen up’, which I believe is a euphemism for removing her panties in anticipation of throwing them at her next victim.”

“Come on, be nice,” you nudge, a slight laugh escaping your lips. Even though it might sound a bit harsh, it was an accurate observation. Despite being your closest friends, Troy and Brooke had always shared a unique love-hate dynamic.

After ordering a drink for yourself, Brooke runs across the room, nearly squealing as she grabs both your arms. “Hurry! I’ve found the best seat in the house tonight!”

She bounces excitedly on her way to the table, and your eyes widen in realization as you notice how close to the stage you all are.

“Oh no, no,” you exclaim, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Oh, yes! You’re going to sit here and watch hot men undress and dance for your pleasure, and you’re going to enjoy it.” Brooke places her hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you down onto the seat.

You groan in response, rolling your eyes slightly with a huff. “Alright, but if we’re chosen, I’m not going up there.”

You’ve heard the stories from their previous performances about how they select audience members to receive lap dances, sometimes even lifting them onto their waist and carrying them through a full routine. The idea makes your face flush, not only because of the hot stranger gyrating on you, but also because of the thought of being on stage in front of an audience. That’s the part that worries you the most. It’s ironic for someone who dedicates their life to being watched by an unseen audience on Twitch, making it their career.

As the house lights dim and the stage lights brighten, Brooke starts stomping her feet excitedly beside you, grabbing and shaking your arm as the introductory music begins.

The first performer to step out is a man dressed entirely in black, including a long black jacket and sunglasses, appearing as though he’s stepped straight out of The Matrix movies. As heavy industrial techno music plays in the background, he begins to strip off layer by layer, revealing a pair of tight black pants and a strappy black tank top. A quick glance down at his pants confirms the reason for his choice of the stage name, ‘Thicky’.

It’s such an obvious name choice that it leads to Troy choking on his straw, causing both you and Brooke to burst into laughter.

The second performer, the drummer, descends from the ceiling, playing his drums with an animalistic energy that lives up to his stage name ‘Animal’. He’s already shirtless and headbanging to the rhythm, his bare, tattooed chest glistening with sweat, which is noticeable even from your seat in the audience. 

Next, ‘Mr. International’ steps out, another who’s clad entirely in black, similar to his stage partner, except for his hair is longer and his black pants are leather. He exudes a dominant aura as he struts around the stage, captivating the women in the crowd with his presence. Many of them increase their screams and even throw extra cash towards him as he approaches the edge of the stage.

When the final introduction for ‘Viper’ commences, you must resist the urge to burst into laughter as a towering, dark-haired man adorned in tattoos saunters onto the stage, exuding an aura reminiscent of an iconic character from Top Gun. However, the moment he begins shedding the layers of his ‘uniform,’ your jaw drops in awe, and your eyes widen with genuine admiration as he reveals his body, draped in a sleek black skin-tight tank, tattoos adorning almost every inch of his visible skin.

“I think we’ve discovered her kryptonite,” Troy remarks across the table to Brooke, but you barely notice it, completely captivated by the man and his commanding stage presence in front of you.

You can’t take your eyes off him during the show. He stands tall and handsome, exuding an aura of charisma that draws you in, even as the other men on stage begin their dance routine. For a fleeting moment, you swear his gaze locks onto yours as he scans the audience, and your heart races with excitement at the thought. Suddenly, an overwhelming desire surges through you to be chosen when the time comes for an audience member to join them on stage.

To your surprise, his eyes do meet yours when that moment arrives, and it feels almost like a scene from a movie as he approaches, raising a hand and beckoning you with his finger.

Each performer had already conducted their own routine with an audience member. ‘Animal’ had one sitting on his lap while he performed a drum solo and was suspended in the air once again. ‘Thicky’ performed a whole chair routine, giving them a lap dance. Lastly, ‘Mr International’ rode the signature Pony suspended from the ceiling with an audience member, grinding against them from behind.

Now, it’s the final routine with ‘Viper’. As you stand to take his hand, he guides you up to the stage, instantly pulling you against him.

Lifting you from the floor, he holds you up, then brings you to sit on his waist. From this close-up, you notice the faint shade of eyeliner around his eyes and how his body shimmers with body glitter, including subtle highlights on his face and along his cheekbones. Some of the glitter is already transferring onto you. 

Before you can become too mesmerized by the sight of him, he starts dancing along to the music, bouncing you slightly on his waist. It takes all your willpower not to burst into a fit of giggles, especially as his intense gaze locks onto yours.

When he lowers you to the floor, he continues to grind, wrapping your legs around his waist before rolling you both over. He keeps you seated on his waist, arching his back and rolling his hips upward in a smooth, rhythmic motion that vibrates between your thighs.

Suddenly, the urge to giggle is replaced by overwhelming embarrassment at how much you’re enjoying this, completely unaware of the room full of eyes watching you both, most of which are likely filled with envy as you both mimic riding him like he is your own personal pony, perfectly matching up to the lyrics of the song playing. 

By the time you regain your composure and the song reaches its end, you’re flustered as you return to your seat, fanning yourself with your hand as you walk back on slightly unsteady feet, unable to suppress the grin that stretches across your face.

“It seems like you enjoyed it more than you anticipated.” Troy leans in closer to you, speaking in a sing-song voice that elicits a roll of your eyes.

“Oh, hush,” you playfully swat at him. 

As the guys gather to perform their final routine of the night and take their bows, you swear you catch his eye once more, with ‘Viper’ shooting a cheeky wink down at you, sending a rush of heat through you.

You can sense, somehow, that this won’t be your final encounter with him. 

Craigslist guy: It’s just off Limes Drive. The house you’re looking for is the one on the corner.

You’ve read the message over and over again, for about the fifth time now, and you’re staring directly at something that’s definitely not a house on the corner of Limes Drive. In fact, it’s just an open piece of land. Suddenly, you start to wonder if you’re being Punk’d or if this person is actually a serial killer.

Pocketful of Sunshine begins to play as your phone rings. The caller ID displays Craigslist dude and panic starts to set in. Is he calling to reveal his sinister plan to kidnap and kill you?

It then hits you that watching those true crime shows before bed might not be such a good idea after all.

Clearing your throat, you answer, holding your phone up before speaking tentatively. “Hello?”

“Hey! Have you seen the house yet?”

“What exactly am I supposed to be seeing?”

“The house!”

Is this guy serious? “There’s no house here.” You look back at the patch of land and huff. “Listen, if you’re calling to waste my time—” He cuts you off abruptly.

“Woah, woah. I’m not wasting anyone’s time. I’m standing outside right now.”

You search around because either he’s lying or you’re blind. There’s no one in front of you, and just as you turn around completely, you catch a guy waving from his driveway. “Is that you? The tall guy who’s waving?”

“Yes! See, I told you it was here.”

“You mentioned the corner of Limes Drive!” You growl through bared teeth.

“No, I said it was just off Limes. But you’re here now, so come over and take a look around!”

He sounds so unbothered by the fact that he was wrong, amused even, and somehow that irritates you slightly.

Pocketing your phone, you quickly glancing both ways before crossing the street, and running up to the drive, stopping before the guy waiting for you. Recognition washes over you as you come face-to-face with the same guy you were not only watching strip last night, but had even performed on stage with him.

He looks different when he’s not under those stage lights, without the faint eye makeup or covered in glitter. The same body glitter you still have stuck to you this morning, even after showering.

“You’re Viper, aren’t you?” Your gaze narrows, and you notice his lips curling into a grin.

“You’ve heard of me? Wait…” His gaze locks onto yours, and you feel a slight warmth spread through your body as recognition dawns on him. “You’re the girl from last night, aren’t you?”

Your hand instinctively reaches up and rubs against the side of your neck at his recollection of you. “That’s me. Or, you know...” You offer him your name, extending your hand for a proper introduction.

“Well, you can call me Noah then.” Somehow, you hadn’t quite anticipated what his real name would be, but it being ‘Noah’ didn’t even cross your mind.

As he guides you up the driveway and into the house, he starts rambling about the house’s features, almost repeating most of the information mentioned in the Craigslist ad.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Noah asks, momentarily glancing down at you.

You nearly miss his question, too preoccupied with admiring the intricate tattoos adorning his arms and neck.

“Hmm? Oh! I’m a Twitch streamer,” you respond, dismissing it and following him through the house as you take in the rooms.

“Wait, seriously? Do you have a complete setup and everything?” You catch the way his eyes gleam and start to quietly laugh. It’s genuinely endearing, both his interest and the enthusiasm in his tone.

“Yeah, it’s not perfect, but I’m gradually making progress.”

“So, you have the dream job, right? You play games for a living.”

You take a moment to ponder the idea because while it’s your dream job, it comes with its challenges. However, seeing his excited expression makes it difficult to shatter his heart with the harsh reality of being a Twitch streamer, especially in the current climate.

“I suppose so, yeah.”

“Perhaps I could join a stream sometime. If you need a skilled dancer to keep the audience entertained, I’ll be your man.” He raises his hands and points his thumbs at himself, the gesture eliciting a laugh from you.

For a fleeting moment, your mind wanders to alternative ways he could be useful on stream. Many streamers collaborate with others, but you can’t help but find yourself drifting into more explicit thoughts.

Your eyes fixate on his mouth, watching the way it moves as he speaks, and the brief licks of his lips between words. The sensation it ignites in you is even more intense than the night before when you were on stage with him, but you swiftly shake your head, dismissing the thought.

If you intend to accept his roommate offer and move in with him, you need to stop having any and all inappropriate thoughts about him.

“And the pool is just out there,” you finally regain your focus as he guides you through the kitchen, gesturing towards the back door. Your eyes then fall upon the boarded-up doggy door. 

“Why did you board up your doggy door?”

“To stop my ex from coming back.”

Great, so he's a misogynist, you think, completely taken back by such a comment.

“I wasn’t kidding about the crazy ex mentioned in the roommate ad. My previous one somehow managed to squeeze through the doggy door.”

“Oh…,” realization dawns on you. As you glance over at the doggy door once more, you can’t help but wonder what man could make you act so crazy that you’d crawl through a doggy door to get back with him.

“We managed to last another two months after that, so it wasn’t a terrible idea on her part. I thought boarding it up after our last breakup would prevent her from literally crawling back into my life and my home... again.”

For a moment, you find yourself staring at him, completely unsure of what to say. Were you sorry about the breakup or his ex’s sudden reappearance in his life? Either way, it felt like an insensitive thing to say.

“Let me show you where your room will be!” he says, leading you upstairs and pointing out his other roommates' rooms: Jolly, the guy nicknamed ‘Mr. International,’ and Davis, another friend who works at the club.

“The dog is actually Davis’,” he informs you.

“Oh, so you lied on your Ad. That’s very naughty,” you tease, but he just laughs and gives you a soft ‘yeah,’ as if he were a child being scolded for something minor. He’s innocent either way.

Reaching the room and the en-suite that will be yours, you step inside and begin exploring. You size up the space and assess the room’s condition.

Turning back, you see Noah standing in the doorway. “My room is just next door,” he says. “I promise you’ll have your privacy. There’s even a lock on your door if you need it, see?” He gestures to the door handle.

You feel a sense of ease knowing you’ll have your own space and a potential safety measure already installed.

“I really like it,” you whisper under your breath, nodding as you take in the room once more. Compared to your current apartment, it’s more spacious, and the rent is almost half the price.

“It’s yours if you want it!”

“Uh…” Did you want it? It was the perfect size, and there would even be space to set up your streaming equipment. You’d have your own bathroom, a pool, and a dog. 

There are perks, but you can’t help but feel a slight twinge of embarrassment when you look back at Noah and remember the night before, when he had you bouncing on his waist, simulating outrageous sexual positions in the form of dance moves.

“Sure. That would be great.” You move towards him, stopping at the doorway, where you meet him still standing there. It amuses you how close to the door frame his head reaches and makes you realize that you’d misjudged his height when he was on stage.

“I promise I don’t usually make a habit of moving in with a guy the day after he grinds on me,” you add, trying to keep the mood light and softly laughing.

“Okay,” he says.

Maybe he doesn’t catch your joke, or maybe he just thinks it’s an odd thing to say. Either way, Noah’s reply makes you wish you hadn’t said anything at all, and for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

You can only hope you won’t regret agreeing to move in with him.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @halfalgorithmhafdeity @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens @i-love-the-smell-of-your-blood @sitkowski @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @bloody-spades @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @bluehairpunklol

[lolashifts]

THE BEACON CHRONICLES . . . YOUNG GIRL DIES IN A DISASTROUS MULTIPLE-VEHICLE ACCIDENT. EMERGENCY RESPONDERS WERE NOT ABLE TO SAVE HER. SHERIFF URGES CAUTION BEHIND THE WHEEL. ( early 2004 )

. . . or, a glimpse into my teen wolf dr !

𝒜s most in beacon county would eventually learn, that night marked recently-elected sheriff NOAH STILINSKI’s life forever. when he returned to the hospital where his wife was residing at the end of his shift, it was already too late: his son was sitting in the hallway, head in his hands. and he knew. he knew that death had welcomed her with open arms, gently pulling her away from the demons she had been fighting for months. ready to put an end to the excruciating misery she lived in. claudia stilinski was gone.

what seemingly no one knew, however, was that the man had been warned. 

just hours earlier, the girl whose hand he chose to hold tight – staying with her as life slowly slipped away from her body – had told him to go. if he wanted to be with the woman he loved in her final moments he had to leave. but he didn’t believe her. he was still too skeptic, his vision too clouded and rational. and the dangerous, invisible world which had to exist only in fables and myths was too hidden and unreal to trust.

so he stayed. he stayed because a complete stranger couldn’t possibly have known about his wife, who was facing an illness she couldn’t be saved from. yet there he was, a few hours later. holding his son close and listening to him sob, all the while realizing neither of them was ever going to see the person they loved most again. noah stillinski would carry the weight of that moment for the rest of his life – sadness, desperation and guilt only growing with time, clinging to him and eating him alive until his eyes were forced to open up to the truth, years later. 

oh, but that was only the beginning – and not just for him. 

you see . . . the girl he sat with, the banshee who had tried to tell him something which turned out to be true, couldn’t have known that elsewhere little LUNA LOCKE had seen her death. in a flash. a flicker. in the midst of screams, sparkling eyes and painful headaches as her parents drove her to beacon hills memorial hospital, where she soon locked eyes with the deputy’s son. 

she didn’t understand the vision her mind had conjured. and she wouldn’t remember it clearly, either – it would just echo in her dreams, lingering just enough to frighten her, only to vanish like stardust as quickly as it came to her the first time. but she didn't have to worry: that prediction wasn’t going to be the last. not even close. 

( january 2011 ) " YOU'RE THE ONE ALWAYS BITCHING THAT NOTHING EVER HAPPENS IN THIS TOWN "

𝓜ore than six years later, luna locke — now a sophomore at beacon hills high school — found herself in the woods.  not by herself, of course. STILES STILINSKI would never let her go wandering around there by herself if he could help it, especially not at night. in fact, he dragged both her and SCOTT MCCALL into it. the mission? find the dead body of the poor girl who’d make the front page of the local newspapers in the morning.

was luna up to it? not really. the idea of potentially having to see a corpse up close — whichever part it was, considering stiles’ words (“they only found half!”) — made her stomach churn. 

but did she refuse the invite? absolutely not. it was the very last day of winter break before the new school semester. might as well enjoy the little freedom she had left. and what better way to do so than spending her precious time with the two idiots she’d been stuck with since the fourth grade? 

so, naturally, she followed her best friends into the trees without expecting anything life-changing �� just a cold, adrenaline-fueled, maybe even weirdly fun night out. 

what she didn’t expect, by the time she finally collapsed onto her bed — trying to fall asleep instead of overthinking about the incredibly awkward conversation with stiles’s dad on why the hell they were alone in the woods at night, of all places — was for scott to show up at school the next day with a giant, purple-shaded bite mark blooming across his stomach. 

or that it was exactly the same mark she had drawn, absentmindedly, in her favorite sketchbook just a few hours before the boys came tapping at her bay window. 

however strange it was, though, she chose to brush it off. she wasn’t a psychic, after all. it had to be just a coincidence. 

but she'd soon realize nothing was ever just a coincidence in BEACON HILLS.

𝒜𝒦𝒜 . . . my best friend gets turned into a werewolf , i'm a seer and completely clueless about it , stiles is just ... stiles , everything goes south and we're all left to deal with the consequences !

author's note . . . hi hi welcome to my first very own official dr intro ever !!!! (if you can even call it an intro tbf ...) this reality has been my pride and joy for the past few weeks, i've grown so attached to it that i even got some ideas to write, as you can see lol . now for those of you not familiar with teen wolf: i tried to make it as obvious as possible but the two events described are very different. the second part is the premise of the first episode, the other one's a memory that sheriff stilinski recalls in s3 !! why did i put them both in the same post? bc the first moment is necessary to understand #MY lore . i will probably make a post entailing what exactly i can do, my backstory etc but for now this is all you'll be getting 🙃🙃

✧ - ib: @deerdoegone and this specific post ! <3

[adifferentsortofstrength]

The Chase

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Someone made a post a few days ago musing about Elain and Azriel being into primal play. I’ve had very little exposure to this particular kink, but the stuff I have seen was… enlightening. It just seemed like something Elriel would absolutely be in to, so I ran with it.

And now here we are.

Fair warning, I haven’t written much smut since my peak Wattpad days in high school, so I’m a little rusty. But I had tons of fun with this piece, and I hope you do too.

Pertinent tags below. ♡

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Come, find me.

Those had been Elain’s parting words that night, whispered into his ear as she left their family in the manor sitting room. They had been sneaking around for months now, and as far as Azriel knew, no one was even suspicious. Being discreet was his specialty, and it turned out Elain was a quick study.

Half an hour after she departed, he excused himself, claiming he had paperwork to attend to. Instead of heading for his room, however, he bid his shadows to deposit him in Elain’s chambers, just one floor up.

But her room was empty.

A breeze caused the curtains to billow around the window, and Azriel strode over to peer out. He cast his gaze over the expansive garden, finding no sign of her. A quick sweep through the rest of the house yielded the same result.

Come, find me.

Azriel mulled over her words, as he stood now at the edge of the garden. He had checked it again, just to be sure he hadn’t missed her, and found only her robe draped across the back wall. It was still warm to the touch, leading him to believe she had recently left it there, but he couldn’t begin to understand why.

The sound of a branch snapping drew him from his reverie, and he whipped around to face the darkness of the forest that lay beyond the garden. Azriel’s head tilted to the side, assessing the inky blackness for any sign of movement. Right as he was about to turn back, something white and smooth flashed in a pool of moonlight, just past the tree line.

He leveraged himself over the low wall, and stalked forwards, one hand resting against Truth Teller, the blade sheathed at his waist. In a sudden flurry, something took off running, deeper into the woods. At first, he thought he had startled a deer; sending her sprinting towards the unknown dangers of the forest, away from the immediate threat of the predator approaching. That was, until he heard… laughter.

Elain’s lilting voice drifted out of the trees, “Come, find me!”

Closing in on the spot where she had been, the heady scent of her arousal hit him. When he found her nightdress discarded in the tall grass, something feral within him roused. Azriel inhaled deeply, dizzy with how quickly need had coiled at his core. He imagined her out there, running through the forest of the human lands, in nothing but her lacy little underthings.

He could almost see the moonlight illuminating her creamy skin, her unbound hair as wild as her eyes, feet bare as she fled between pines and oaks. Elain wanted him to chase her, to hunt her through the dark, and he was powerless to resist.

Azriel felt rational thought leave him then, replaced by the carnal beast that lurked under his skin. His senses honed in on everything that was Elain. The jasmine and honey scent that haunted him each day, it was like a beacon in the night. He took off after his prey, a lone wolf hunting in the woods.

⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰

Elain was consumed by her desire for Azriel. They had been at the manor, with the Band of Exiles, for far too long. She had borrowed some of Nesta’s books to take the edge off, but something she read in the most recent novel had stuck in her mind.

She had never attempted anything like this before. The urge to try had been stoking a deep, feral heat within her for days. To fantasize about being hunted was one thing, but to initiate this roleplay felt like a line she could never step back from. Elain was all too familiar with actually being prey, having needed to be rescued far too many times for her ego to withstand. Taking control of it like this, choosing to be hunted down, felt like a necessary part of healing from all that she had experienced.

Though she had considered discussing it with him first, it wasn’t the easiest thing to put into words and actually speak out loud. Her cheeks had burned every time she even thought about bringing it up with him, in the few moments they had been left alone here. Azriel knew her better than anyone, and she knew him too. Knew that he wouldn’t balk at the prospect of chasing her through the woods.

All she had to do was get him there.

Standing at the edge of the forest, waiting for Azriel to track her down, she had almost called it off and snuck back into her room. She was nervous that he wouldn’t figure it out, that she would be left out there, in the dark, and have to admit defeat. But she should have known better than to doubt his ability to find her.

When he lingered at the garden wall, where she had draped her robe, Elain dropped her nightgown around her ankles. Her skin was bare except for the white, lacy scraps of fabric that stretched across her breasts and between her thighs. As she stepped clear of her clothes, a dry branch snapped under her foot.

Elain held her breath as she watched Azriel’s head tilt to the side, as if searching the darkness for her. Worried he wouldn’t be able to see her in the shadows, she slipped quietly through a beam of moonlight that broke through the canopy. Her heartbeat accelerated as he lifted himself gracefully over the wall, and she felt her arousal dampen her thighs as he palmed Truth Teller, moving slowly in her direction.

An instinctive need to flee overwhelmed her, and she submitted to it, turning to sprint into the unknown depths of the forest. In one last lucid moment, she called out over her shoulder, “Come, find me!”

Elain wove through the trees, her feet nearly silent beneath her. Her breath came in pants, and her legs burned from the effort it took to maintain her speed, but knowing who hunted her gave her the strength to keep running. Azriel was an elite warrior, the Spymaster of the Night Court, and a powerful Shadowsinger. He would have little trouble chasing her down. It was only a matter of time before she would be caught, but she threw herself fully into the hunt, giving herself over to the role of prey that she had assumed.

A carnal fear took over, driving her deeper and deeper into the woods. She could hear him faintly, some distance behind her. He had no need for stealth, and his boots crashed through the overgrown vegetation, the sound slowly growing as he gained ground.

Hoping to throw him off her trail, Elain veered off to the left, into a dense thicket of willow branches. Leaves tore from the tree, snagging in her hair as she ran through it. Azriel growled from the other side, the noise startling a cry from her lips. Fearing the sound would draw him straight towards her, she pushed herself to move faster, gasping for air as she exerted herself.

The mounting anticipation sent a renewed flood of need through her, the lace covering her sex completely saturated, her thighs slick. Each stride created a delicious friction there and Elain could hardly contain a desperate moan that gathered in her chest. She chanced a look back, and that moan turned into a sharp yelp as she realized that Azriel had been silently keeping pace with her.

A wicked snarl tore from his throat in response, a wolfish grin spreading over his face. She cried out again, nearly losing her footing, and in a final effort to escape, lunged for an opening in the trees. She found herself running through a large meadow, tall grasses and wildflowers whipping past her legs, nettles stinging her bare skin. Elain nearly sobbed as she felt him closing in, her legs trembling with the effort it took to keep moving.

With a guttural growl, Azriel had lunged for her, catching her around the waist. Unable to contain the visceral sound that ripped from her lungs, she screamed as they tumbled across the clearing. He had absorbed the impact as they landed, and for a moment she had a fleeting hope of breaking free. She kicked and tried to wrench her arms from his grasp, but in one smooth movement she was pinned.

Elain writhed beneath him, her arms restrained in one of his large hands, stretched above her head. She cried out as his other hand gripped her face and turned her head to the side, cheek pressed into the grass, her neck bared. Azriel lowered his mouth to her, his hot breath ghosting over her skin, the only warning she had before he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder.

The sharp pain sent her hurtling towards the precipice of her pleasure, her core tightening in response. A purely feral sound came from her chest, somewhere between a moan and a sob. She bucked her hips below him, his legs on either side of her, still holding her in place. Azriel replaced his teeth with his tongue, soothing over the hurt.

He shifted his weight, using one knee to press hers apart, and settled into the space between. The combined scents of their arousals filled the air around them, driving Elain to the edge of sanity as she continued to struggle against his grasp. Every other breath came out as a keening cry, tears slipping from her eyes as her need for him became overwhelming.

Elain watched, eyes wild, as he took the hand that had held her face and unsheathed his dagger. Azriel drug the flat of the blade up the soft inner skin of her thigh, the cold metal feeling so at odds with the heat radiating from her core. His eyes locked with hers, waiting for any sign of refusal, and finding none. He drug his gaze down her body, taking in the white lace and bare skin.

He growled low, a sound of approval, as he beheld the shining wetness between her legs. The tip of Truth Teller now slipped beneath the fabric that encircled her hip. Drawing it up, ever so slowly, the fine woven material giving way easily to the edge of the blade. She watched as her chest began to heave, each breath more ragged than the last.

One side of her bottoms fell away, and he repeated this move on the other side until he could tear them off completely, tucking them into a pocket in his leathers. She thought he would use the same method to remove the lace that covered her breasts, but he only replaced the dagger in its sheath.

Suddenly, he released the hold he had on her wrists, but she still found herself unable to move. Elain tilted her head back, only to find dark shadows twined around them now. She tore her eyes back to the male above her, a wicked grin spreading across his mouth. Azriel began to slowly undress himself, removing his jacket and shirt first. The sight of his bare chest drew a pathetic mewling sound from her, her arms once again struggling against the bonds, desperate to touch his skin.

He then worked on undoing the laces at the front of his leathers, drawing each one fully out before moving on to the next. She had never known true torture before, but in this moment felt as though she would give him anything he asked for, if only to relieve the immense pressure building up inside her. Elain was not one to resort to begging often, but she was not above it at this moment.

Drowning in desire, desperate for any contact to bring her to release, she tried to move her hips up, a feeble attempt to grind herself against his thigh, his hand, anything would be better than the painful emptiness that clawed within her. With no more than a glance down, Azriel sent shadows to restrain her hips, adding to the mounting frustration.

He stood then, finally, finally removing his leathers, now fully naked before her. Elain tried to choke out a plea, but words did not come to her. He kneeled again, lowering himself over her, his hard length coming to rest against her. She rocked up into him, as far as the restraints would allow, gasping at the friction as his cock dragged across her clit.

In one swift motion, he had aligned himself at her entrance and began to push into her. Her slick arousal coated him, the stretch bringing her back to the edge. Azriel released his shadows, her hands and hips now free to move, as he bottomed out within her.

Elain’s hands flew to his shoulders, digging her nails in, urging him on. Understanding her need, he set a punishing pace, driving her into the ground as he fucked her. She lost all awareness of anything but the pleasure coiling at her core. He wrapped one arm under her hips, tilting her up to give himself better access, hitting that sweet spot deep within her.

The world went black as she came, her head thrown back, the sounds leaving her mouth unintelligible and raw. As the first wave crested, another swept in, leaving her trembling and limp. Azriel was unrelenting, his hands now finding purchase in the soft flesh of her hips. She was completely at his mercy.

Without warning, he lifted her, sitting back on his heels and seating her in his lap. Elain managed to wrap her arms around his neck as he continued to thrust up into her. Needing to please him too, she let her fingers trace over his wings, down the ridged flesh, to the joint where they connected to his back. He snarled against her neck and bit down on her shoulder once more, layering the marks left there by his teeth before.

Azriel’s movements became jagged as she grazed her knuckles down the membrane, her pleasure building again as the sharp pain of his teeth mingled with the ecstasy of his cock filling her. She purred in his ear before her tongue flicked over the pulse point in his neck. Elain kissed the line of his throat, sucking and licking her way to the soft skin just below his jaw. Her hands were both at work, gently stroking up and down the crest of his wings.

Growling against her neck, he came, his hips surging up, release spilling inside of her. The feeling of it was enough to send her toppling over the edge one more time. Azriel wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his chest. They sat there, catching their breath, each trailing their fingers in soothing circles on the other's skin.

Elain couldn’t remember a time she felt happier, more sated, more at peace. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing to remain in this moment forever. He gently shifted them, laying on his back, his wings spread out beneath them, as she curled against his chest. His hands ran up and down her arms, her back, her legs and Azriel kissed the top of her head.

Language slowly returning to her, Elain tipped her head up and mumbled, “I knew you’d find me.”

Azriel shifted to look at her, amusement and affection shining in his eyes, “What the fuck was that, Elain?”

She smiled up at him, “That was fun.”

He just shook his head and relaxed back, seemingly content to lay there with her beneath the stars, where only the Mother might witness them.

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

𝒜𝐿𝑅𝐸𝒜𝒟𝒴 𝐵𝑅𝒪𝒦𝐸𝒩-𝒟𝑅𝐸𝒲 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝑅𝒦𝐸𝒴

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 Drew stands alone, filled with regret as he faces the heartbreaking truth: his career came first, and now he's losing the love of his life.

✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮

The sound of rain tapping against the windows filled the quiet room, a stark contrast to the thunderstorm brewing between the two people standing at opposite ends of the living room. The soft glow of the city lights barely reached inside, casting Drew Starkey’s face in shadows as he stood in the dim light, jaw clenched, hands trembling with frustration.

Y/N, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if trying to hold everything together, felt like she was unraveling at the seams. The silence between them had always been comforting, but tonight it was suffocating. She couldn’t breathe. The weight of unspoken words, of late nights spent alone, and promises broken, hung heavily in the air.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Drew finally spoke, his voice strained, but his eyes refused to meet hers. It was as if he couldn’t bear to see the pain he knew he had caused her.

“What do I want from you?” Y/N repeated, disbelief lacing her words as she shook her head, her heart pounding against her ribcage. “I wanted you, Drew. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Drew flinched, guilt flashing across his face for a moment, but just as quickly, it disappeared behind his guarded expression. He raked his hand through his hair, pacing the room like a caged animal. “You knew this is how it would be. The fame, the long hours, the traveling I didn’t ask for this life to be easy.”

Her heart sank as she watched him rationalize, but that didn’t ease the ache growing in her chest. “It’s not about the long hours or the traveling. I knew what I was signing up for when I fell in love with you, Drew. But you weren’t there when I needed you the most.”

The words escaped her before she could stop them. She’d been holding onto them for so long, they’d become like a poison inside her one that needed to be purged. Her eyes welled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. She couldn’t be the vulnerable one, not again.

Drew’s breath hitched, and he froze mid-step, finally turning to face her, his blue eyes wide with a mix of surprise and confusion. “What do you mean? I’ve been trying to be here. I’ve been doing my best…”

“No, Drew,” she whispered, her voice breaking despite her best efforts. “You weren’t there when I was drowning. When everything became too much, and I needed you…you weren’t there.”

His eyes flickered with recognition as the words sank in. There had been times more times than he cared to admit where he’d missed important moments. Her bad days, the nights she cried herself to sleep. The phone calls he promised to return but never did. The breakdown she had when her world felt like it was crumbling, and he was miles away filming, unable to drop everything for her.

Drew took a step toward her, but she shook her head, stepping back, creating a space between them that felt like miles.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low, pained. He looked so much like the Drew she fell in love with in this moment, vulnerable, raw, broken in his own way. But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

“I needed you,” she repeated, her voice steady now, even if the cracks still showed. “I wasn’t asking you to stop everything. I just wanted you to see me. To notice when I wasn’t okay. To be there, even when it was hard.”

“I know,” Drew said, swallowing hard as he stepped closer again, desperation in his eyes. “I know I messed up. I…I didn’t realize. I was so wrapped up in everything, and I thought…I thought you’d understand.”

She laughed bitterly, the sound foreign in the tense room. “That’s the problem, Drew. I did understand. I understood everything. I made excuses for you. I kept waiting, and hoping, and forgiving. But when it came down to it…you weren’t there.”

The words felt final, and they hung between them like an open wound. Drew’s chest rose and fell as he tried to breathe through the weight of her truth. His eyes searched hers, pleading for forgiveness, for some sign that they could still fix this. But he saw it. He saw the hurt that had festered for too long, and he knew.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice broken, as though that could be enough.

Y/N smiled sadly, her hand dropping to her side as she met his gaze, her eyes filled with tears she couldn’t hold back anymore. “I love you too, Drew. But love isn’t always enough.”

For the first time, Drew’s heart shattered. He reached for her, but this time, Y/N didn’t move closer. She took a step back, her heart breaking as she turned away from him, leaving the man she thought she’d spend forever with standing in the darkened room, alone.

The rain continued to fall outside, but inside, it was quiet once again. The silence that used to be comforting now felt like an unbearable weight one that neither of them could carry anymore.

And for the first time, Drew Starkey realized the cost of not being there when it mattered most.

Drew stood there, frozen in place as the sound of the front door clicked shut behind her. The rain outside pounded harder against the windows, almost as if it mirrored the storm inside his chest. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to suppress the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. But it was no use.

The empty silence that followed her departure was louder than any argument they’d ever had. It echoed in the space around him, filling the gaps she left behind. His hands dropped to his sides as he stared at the door, half-expecting her to come back, to burst through and tell him this was all just a terrible dream.

But she didn’t.

Drew stumbled toward the couch, collapsing into it, burying his face in his hands. His mind raced, replaying every moment, every argument, every missed call. How had he let it get this bad? How had he been so blind?

She’d been there for him through everything the chaos of his career, the nights when he was too exhausted to hold a conversation, the days when he was so wrapped up in his work that he forgot to check in. Y/N had been the constant in his life, the only thing that felt real amidst the madness. But he hadn’t been there for her. Not in the way she needed. And now, he wasn’t sure he ever could be.

Drew could still see the pain in her eyes when she said those words “You weren’t there when I needed you most.” They cut deeper than anything anyone had ever said to him. She had been his rock, and he’d taken her for granted. He thought she would always understand, always wait. But love wasn’t a one-way street, and he’d driven her away without realizing it.

A wave of nausea rolled through him, and he leaned forward, gripping the edge of the couch. He needed to do something anything to make this right. But as the minutes ticked by, he couldn’t think of a single way to fix what had broken between them. The damage was already done. And the worst part? He knew that no apology, no grand gesture could erase the moments he missed. The moments when she’d needed him to be there, and he wasn’t.

Y/N walked down the rain soaked streets, her heart heavy with every step she took away from the man she had once thought she’d spend her life with. The cool air clung to her skin, mixing with the tears she hadn’t realized were falling. She pulled her coat tighter around her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop the ache in her chest.

She hadn’t wanted it to end like this. In her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined that walking away from Drew would be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do. But somewhere along the way, she’d lost herself in loving him. In waiting for him. In hoping that one day, he’d realize she needed more than his love from afar.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she knew it was him before she even looked. Drew had already called twice, sent a text, but she couldn’t bear to answer. Not now. The pain was too raw, too fresh. She needed space, time to breathe, to think without the weight of his presence pressing on her heart.

She sat down on a bench under the cover of an old awning, watching the rain dance on the pavement. Her mind wandered back to the beginning, to the early days of their relationship when everything had felt so easy, so right. Drew was charming, sweet, and full of passion everything she had fallen for. But as his career skyrocketed, she started to feel like a shadow, always there, but never truly seen.

She loved him. She probably always would. But love wasn’t enough to fill the empty spaces that had grown between them. Love couldn’t erase the nights she spent crying alone, or the times she needed him and found herself staring at her phone, hoping for a call that never came.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time, she glanced at the screen.

Drew Please. I’m sorry. I need to see you.

Y/N’s thumb hovered over the reply button, her heart aching with the familiar pull she felt whenever she thought of him. She could feel his pain in those words, and a part of her wanted to turn around, to go back and try to fix things. But another part of her the part that had been hurt too many times held her back.

It was a cycle, one that had been repeating for too long. She would forgive, they’d fall back into each other’s arms, and then, eventually, he’d drift away again. And she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t keep sacrificing her own happiness for the hope that things would change.

She needed to break free. Not because she didn’t love him, but because she finally realized she needed to love herself more.

Drew sat in the darkened living room, staring blankly at the text message he had just sent. His hand shook as he held the phone, waiting for a reply that he knew deep down might never come. He could feel her slipping further away with every second that passed.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room again as frustration and fear gnawed at him. His mind raced with memories of her, the way she laughed, the warmth of her touch, the comfort of her presence. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.

In a moment of desperation, he grabbed his jacket and bolted out the door. The rain poured down in sheets as he ran through the streets, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to find her. He had to tell her how much she meant to him, how sorry he was for all the ways he’d failed her.

But when he reached her apartment building, he stopped, drenched and out of breath. He stared up at the windows, knowing she was up there, somewhere. He wanted to go inside, to beg her for another chance. But instead, he stood there, feeling the weight of everything he had lost.

Because he knew…sometimes, even love couldn’t fix what was already broken.

Drew stood in the rain, his chest heaving as he stared up at the lit window that once felt like home. Every fiber of his being wanted to run inside, to fight for her, to make her see how sorry he was. But he also knew that words weren’t enough. Not anymore. He had spent so much time being distant, so much time putting his career first, that he’d missed the most important thing: her.

Y/N was inside, no doubt trying to make sense of everything, just as he was. But Drew understood now no matter how much he loved her, she couldn’t keep picking up the pieces of their broken relationship alone.

As the rain soaked through his clothes, he felt something break inside him. Maybe it was the realization that she might never come back. Or maybe it was the weight of knowing that he had pushed her to this point. But whatever it was, it left him hollow.

Suddenly, the door to the building creaked open, and Y/N stepped out, her eyes locking on Drew as if she had been expecting him. She hesitated for a moment, her face a mix of sadness and resolve.

“You’re here,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the rain.

Drew swallowed, taking a hesitant step forward. “I…I had to see you.” His voice cracked with desperation. “I needed you to know how sorry I am.”

Y/N nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as she stepped out from under the awning, the rain clinging to her skin. “I know you’re sorry, Drew. But I don’t think an apology can fix this anymore.”

He flinched at her words, his heart breaking all over again. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you. I just…I didn’t know how to balance it all. I thought…I thought you’d always be there, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she shook her head, her voice shaking. “That’s just it. I was always there, Drew. But I needed you, too. And you weren’t. Not when it really mattered.”

Drew’s throat tightened as he watched the pain play out across her face. “I know. I know I messed up. But can’t we can’t we try again? Please? I’ll be better this time, I swear.”

Y/N looked down at the ground, her tears mixing with the rain as they fell. She let out a shaky breath, lifting her eyes to meet his once more. “I can’t keep doing this, Drew. I’ve been holding on to the hope that things would change for too long. But every time, I’m the one who ends up hurting.”

The rawness in her voice shattered what little hope he had left. Drew felt his knees weaken, his voice breaking as he tried one last time. “I’ll change. I’ll make it right. Just…don’t go. Please.”

For a long moment, Y/N just stood there, watching him, her heart aching as she took in the sight of the man she loved the man she had always loved, but could no longer save. She stepped forward, her hand reaching up to gently touch his cheek, her thumb wiping away a stray raindrop or was it a tear?

“I love you, Drew. But this time, I need to choose me.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and her touch lingered for a moment longer before she pulled away.

Drew felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as he realized that this was it, this was the moment he’d feared for so long. The moment where his mistakes had finally caught up to him, and there was nothing left he could say to fix it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible over the rain. Then, with one final glance, Y/N turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the night.

Drew watched her go, the world around him spinning in slow motion as the weight of her absence settled over him like a lead blanket. He had always thought he had time. Time to make it right, time to fix the broken pieces of their relationship. But now, standing alone in the rain, he understood the harsh truth:

Sometimes, love isn’t enough to keep someone from walking away.

And sometimes, the hardest part is realizing that when they needed you most, you weren’t there.

As Y/N disappeared into the city streets, Drew whispered into the night, knowing it was too late for her to hear him:

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been there.”

But the rain kept falling, and she was gone.

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 9: The Dilemmas

Another chapter update for y’all ❤️

37 Days until Competition

Elain felt shitty that the first time she invited her sisters to her apartment in months was because of a stupid boy. (Fitting, because said stupid boy had given her the idea of reconnecting with her sisters in the first place.) But she was seething and needed someone rational and level headed to talk to. 

And Feyre, bless her heart, didn't seem to mind at all, just excited to finally spend time with her sister as Elain described how they’d become partners. The youngest Archeron perched at the dining table with a glass of red wine, both fists propping her chin up, blue eyes wide as she tracked Elain’s frantic pacing. The oldest sister would be joining shortly.

“I just don’t understand why he didn’t tell me,” Elain said, fingers that weren’t holding her own wine glass digging into her temples. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she felt alcohol was necessary. “I don’t need to know everything about his life, but you’d think he would have just…said it naturally.” 

“So then maybe it’s possible he doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Feyre reasoned, casually sipping her wine. “He might have just gone out one night to…” She grimaced, shaking the images from her brain. She did not want to think about her friend that way. “But I know Az. He isn’t normally the type to bring girls home.” 

Elain set her glass down, hands on her hips. “Okay well maybe they take him home instead. I don’t know which option is worse, and I don’t know which one I’d prefer.” 

None. She’d prefer none of these scenarios her brain had concocted. Truly, she wouldn’t have questioned any of this had she not seen the hickey. It was displayed so proudly on his skin, so vividly. 

“And…why would it be a big deal if he had a girlfriend?” Feyre wondered, swirling the liquid in her glass. She schooled her face into one of indifference, though it was difficult to hide the tug of her lips at the realization Elain had a crush and was seemingly spiraling out of control. 

Elain sighed, joining Feyre at the table after the oven dinged. A plate of warm chocolate chip cookies sat between them. The sisters dug in, savoring the warmth and sweetness on their tongues. “It’s just about respect. Ice dancing is…intimate. I don’t want to cause any problems between them.” 

“Fair, and mature,” Feyre said around a mouthful of chocolate. “And if he doesn’t have one…”

Elain swallowed her bite, flashing her sister an unenthused look. “Feyre, have you seen him?” 

“I don't ogle my husband’s best friend if that’s what you’re asking,” Feyre snorted, “But yes, Azriel has always been handsome. And it sounds to me that you are very attracted to him.” 

Elain froze, wine glass halfway to her mouth. Her eyes narrowed into slits. “I am not.” 

A bold lie that neither one of them commented on. 

“He has a girlfriend. And in the event he doesn't, then I have to live with the fact that my skating partner takes women home and…engages in…uncompromising positions.” Heat warmed her cheeks. Any and all thoughts about Azriel’s sexual endeavors were pushed out of her head, even if some begged to stay. 

The front door to her apartment swung open violently. Nesta dropped her dance bag and kicked off her shoes before slinking over to her sisters. Not even bothering to grab a glass, she took a swig straight from the wine bottle. 

“Sorry I’m late,” She grumbled, trying her best to remove the scowl from her face. ���Cassian does not know when to stop talking.” 

A look passed between the two younger sisters. 

“Didn’t you just come from work?” Elain asked, offering up a cookie. 

Nesta accepted, devouring the treat in two bites. “Mhm. Apparently, he’s decided that in his free time, he's going to watch my classes. And then when my classes are done, he’s going to trap me into a twenty minute conversation, asking me when I’m going to grow up and let him take me out.” 

Elain and Feyre cooed simultaneously, giggling at Nesta’s eye twitch. “That is not cute. He is not cute. He is a distraction and he angers me.” 

Lie after lie after lie. 

Apparently the Archeron sisters were professionals at denying very obvious feelings. 

“If you didn’t want him there, why didn't you kick him out?” Feyre asked, brows quirked in challenge. Elain nodded her agreement.

Nesta bit out, “Whatever. I’m still not going out with him.” 

Because she did want him there, Elain thought to herself with a grin.

Nesta plopped herself on the floor, not bothering to perch in a chair. Cross legged, she stared up at her sisters. “So, what did I miss?” 

A brief moment of silence passed over them before Feyre blurted giddily, “Elain has a crush on Az.” She almost spewed her wine at Elain’s incredulous look. 

“I do not,” Elain hissed, chomping another cookie. She turned to Nesta, whose face was wide eyed and bright. “He has a girlfriend. Or he’s…sleeping with someone.” 

The oldest sister frowned, motioning with her hand for another cookie. “Since when?” 

“Since a few days ago, when he came into my job sporting a hickey right on his stupid neck.” A very strong, very tan, very beautifully tattooed neck. Had whoever branded his skin trailed her tongue along the ink, too? Elain’s stomach flipped at the thought. 

Nesta blinked as slowly as she chewed. She came to only one possible conclusion. “And…you wish it were you?”

Feyre cackled, and Elain threw her hands up. Gosh, they were insufferable! “No, I do not wish it were me!” Nesta smirked, toying with the cork from the wine bottle. “So then what’s the issue?” 

“The issue,” Elain said after tipping back the rest of her wine. Nesta handed her the bottle. “Is that he didn’t tell me. We’re skating partners, which means we work closely together. I just want to be mindful and respectful of his relationship.” 

“You want to be respectful to him and his supposed girlfriend, then why are you wearing his shirt?” Nesta pointed out with her chin. 

Elain glanced down, muttering a curse too low for her sisters to hear. Velaris Ice Warriors was printed across her chest in white ink against the purple fabric, with a mountain on each sleeve. “I spilled tea on my sweater at our last practice. He had a spare shirt in his bag, that’s all. I brought it home to wash and I just…grabbed it this morning when I finished showering.”

Feyre hummed. 

“Look, girlfriend or fuck buddy aside, you wouldn't be this upset over a damn hickey if you didn’t have feelings for him,” Nesta said, taking another drink from the bottle. “And if you’re going to fall for anyone, I’m glad it’s Az. You don’t need it, but you have my approval.” 

Elain’s face burned. Well…that was at least good to know. 

“He really is wonderful, Elain,” Feyre whispered, nudging her sister’s hand with the bottom of her wine glass. “In the event he isn’t seeing anyone, I think you guys could have something really special. I know you don’t have much experience dating but I don’t think that would matter to him. He’d treat you perfectly, just like you deserve.”

That was also good to know.

“Or,” Nesta’s smirk was feline, which usually meant trouble. “If you didn’t want to date him, you could always just fuck him.” 

Elain was sure her face couldn’t possibly get redder. Nesta and Nuala would be great friends, it seemed. “I’ll do that when you agree to let Cassian take you on a proper date,” She challenged, dodging the wine cork that was beamed at her head. Nesta glowered, sending all of the sisters into an eventual fit of giggles. 

Though Elain was still conflicted about her situation with Azriel, something in her chest lightened. She was positive it had everything to do with her sisters, even if some of their advice had been…unhelpful. 

But it was nice having them around. She’d almost forgotten the color of Feyre’s eyes, the sound of Nesta’s laugh. Elain settled into her chair, watching as Feyre tried to convince Nesta to give Cassian a chance. The next sentence didn’t feel as foreign on her tongue as she thought it would. 

“Stay for dinner,” Elain offered, interrupting the sisterly banter. “Please. There’s a new recipe I’ve been meaning to try and I…” She swallowed. “I’ve missed you.” 

Nesta’s face softened in a way it only did around her sisters. Not many people were privileged enough to bear witness to her gentle side. She didn’t show it much, but it was there. 

Nesta glanced at Feyre, who spoke for both of them. Her inked hand covered Elain’s smooth skin. “We missed you too, Elain. You don’t know how happy we were to hear from you, even more ecstatic to come visit you. We’d love to stay.”

Elain puffed out a relieved breath. 

“Can we…” Nesta fiddled with her thumb nail. She looked sheepish, eyes darting between her sisters. “Can we do this again sometime?” 

Feyre turned hopeful eyes on Elain.

Elain grinned. “I think I'd like that.”

“His audacity is bigger than his dick.” 

Cassian almost choked on his beer, wiping what spilled out of the sides of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Damn. Rhys really got under your skin, huh?” 

The two hockey players were situated in Azriel’s basement, which was just a bit more luxurious than the rest of his humble home. It was newly renovated with shiny wooden floors, leather seats, a ping pong table, a billiards table, and a fully stocked bar. A few of his Ice Warriors buddies were still trying to convince him that the basement needed an air hockey table, too.

Cassian lounged in a recliner, four empty beer bottles scattered about his feet. In the corner of the room, Azriel nursed his own beer, lining up his last dart with the Bullseye on the board. It might have been petty, but a photo of Rhysand’s face replaced the usual red Bullseye circle. 

“Are you really going to do both?” Cassian inquired, smirking when Azriel’s last dart landed right between Rhysand’s eyes. 

Normally on any given day, both Cassian and Rhysand would’ve been invited over for a few beers and a round of billiards. But Rhysand had overstepped, and Azriel knew how to hold a grudge.

“Yes, because it’s possible. But if he forces my hand, I am going to choose Elain and say fuck the game. We have plenty of championship wins already.” He’d already made up his mind, and nothing anyone said could convince him to think differently. 

“I didn't realize the competition was this important to you,” Cassian said, twirling a bottle opener around his finger.

Azriel shrugged, plucking the darts from the board. “It’s not. Elain is.” 

He’d won plenty of ice dancing competitions, too. Another medal meant nothing to him, really. But Elain? Learning how to love skating again? Winning for herself, and for no one else? That was what mattered. 

Cassian stood, depositing the bottle opener onto the pool table as he strode toward the dart board. He grabbed four red darts and said, “Something going on between the two of you?” 

“About as much as whatever’s going on between you and Nesta,” Azriel quipped, flexing his arm so Cassian’s cheapshot punch wouldn’t sting as much. 

“Prick,” Cassian muttered, scowling when his dart bounced off the board. “You know, you wouldn’t be so uptight if you fucked every once in a while.” 

“Not interested,” Azriel said immediately, lips quirking when his dart landed on Rhysand’s forehead. 

“Not interested unless it's her, you mean,” Cassian said, nodding when his dart landed in the outer ring.

Azriel said nothing, but he didn’t have to. 

“Think she would?” 

Azriel licked his lips. “You’re asking if Elain would fuck me, when she hesitates to even call me her friend?” 

“Damn,” Cassian whistled lowly. “She didn't even friendzone you. You’re just…there. You know what that means, right?” 

Azriel blew out a breath, lining up his next shot. “What does it mean, Cass?” 

Cassian swigged from his beer before saying, “Sorry brother, but she’s already fucking someone else.” Azriel’s dart ricocheted off the edge of the board, turning dark eyes to his friend who was crouched over in laughter. Azriel had yet to see what was so funny. 

He didn’t want to think about it. He refused to think about the possibility that Elain was sleeping with someone. The chance she was sharing someone else’s bed. Letting another man feel her skin or kiss her neck or throw her legs over his shoulders as his tongue worked her to the brink of an orgasm. 

No, Azriel refused to think about those things for two reasons. 

One, his fist would shatter drywall. 

Two, it’d be a reminder that his tongue was nowhere close to tasting her skin. 

“How are you this bad at cheering someone up?” Azriel spat, pulling all of the red and blue darts from the board, thrusting four into Cassian’s waiting palm. Azriel swallowed, asking softly, “You don’t think that's true though, right?” “I don’t know Elain well enough to say if it's true or not, but your reaction tells me everything I need to know,” Cassian's features softened. “Your feelings for her go beyond just simply caring.” 

Azriel took a long swig from his bottle, eyes trained ahead. 

“I want to see you happy, brother. You deserve it,” Cassian clapped him on the shoulder. “And if that’s with Elain, I want to see that happen. Don’t let anything get in the way if you do find yourself granted the chance to be with her. Not your self loathing shit, and certainly not Rhys.” 

Azriel hadn’t let himself plan further than just being an acquaintance, or even a friend for that matter. But just for a brief moment, he allowed himself to think about what it would be like to become a permanent fixture in Elain’s life, if she found him worthy enough.

To hold her in his embrace. 

To show her off in public. 

To be vulnerable with her. Cherish her. Protect her. Love her. 

And his heart warmed.

Even if he was not guaranteed an ending with her, maybe he could let himself dream. 

ART FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: HERE

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

[piratesfromspace]

Plaything (141xReader)

Pairing: (implied) Reader x Ghost x Soap x Price x Gaz Rated: Mature Word count: 2.7k Summary: Rain and Soap have been kidnapped. Note: In the same universe as my "Rain or Shine" fic, I recommend you read part 3 to understand this chapter. Reader callsign is "Rain", she's bi and autistic (I am autistic myself).

Content: angst, hurt/comfort, kidnapping, implied torture, threat of sexual assault, overall canon typical violence, but with a happy ending (kinda)

MASTERLIST // PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // <> // PART 5

Soap hears her before he can see her - Don’t touch me she screams, and the fury in her tone has his heart racing. They drag her into the room where he is detained. His hands tightly bound behind his back and to the metal chair he sits on. The zip ties are cutting into his skin, the metal too hard and cold under his thighs. No chance to rip them off discreetly with all those men watching him. But he stops caring about his own discomfort the second she appears. 

Despite the heavy tac gear on her body, she looks cruelly small against the giant holding her. Her hair is in her face, and there is a smear of blood on her cheek, but she’s trashing and screaming with so much vigor John is somewhat relieved. She’s alive and kicking . 

“My oh my, what do we have here, mmh? That’s an interesting new addition to your squad MacTavish.” The man next to the giant croons. “She wasn’t there the last time we met. Or maybe you’ve been hiding her all along?” He walks slowly, towering over Rain. “Wouldn’t blame you, such a pretty thing, you have to be careful who you show it to...” he taunts.

Soap knows him - codename Zeus, what a pretentious asshole - he’s the head of this mercenary unit they had to team up with once. But since they sell their fire power to the highest bidder, don’t really have any allegiance, it was only a matter of time before they met again in a less friendly situation. They had rat him out of the safehouse he was sharing with Rain. No clue how they got the intel. Or why they captured him. He had prayed Rain would be able to escape, but it appears she was caught as well. Soap just really hopes the rest of the squad will figure something out, and quickly. 

“So what is she?” Zeus goes on, evil mirth in his voice. 

“Sniper?” one of the other rogue soldiers tries. Zeus laughs.

“Nah. She had fucking glasses on when we caught her.” He looks at Johnny with a smirk, then at her. “Maybe you’re their nurse? Oh wait I know, you’re their cook, right?” he asks, feigning honesty, and his men chuckle. Soap wants to kill them all, break their teeth and stop them from laughing ever again. 

Zeus extends his hand, catches Rain’s chin between his gloved fingers, forces her head up. “Or maybe you’re their plaything? The squad little whore?”  Rain’s eyes widen in anger and shock, she snaps her head to the side trying to escape her captor’s grip. 

The words of Zeus awaken Soap’s memory. Invoke flashes of what happened in Siberia. Unexpected guilt settles in his guts with an icy feeling. “Plaything” - she wasn’t their plaything , she was the one initiating whatever it was , she was more than willing. They only wanted to make her feel good.

Johnny doesn’t understand why he suddenly feels guilty because of this. The implications of what Zeus is suggesting - he hates them, they’re nonsensical, but still he feels attacked even if it's ridiculous. He can only imagine what it does to Rain’s spirit. 

“Or maybe you’re their plaything? The squad little whore?”The words of their captor echoes in her head. How does he know? It’s not rational but for a split second she panics. She panics because maybe - maybe - there is the tiniest chance someone knows? Someone else beside the 141? It makes absolutely no sense, and she should not care at all, but since the second she’s been captured, she feels her mind unraveling.

She tries her best to keep it together - damn it , she followed the freaking training, she’s supposed to know what to do, she’s supposed to have her emotions in check. Truth is no training can prepare you for the feeling of helplessness slithering along every inch of her body, seizing her lungs, filling her throat full with a cloying fear.

Zeus and his men are hitting low, she’s easy target. Pointing at her womanhood and making it demeaning, citing all the adjacent prejudices they can think of. No better than stupid mean boys from high school. It should not dig at her confidence like this. She knows her skills, out of and on the battlefield. She knows her team respects that - respects her . Loves her, even. But still, she doesn’t feel so well, it’s too much happening too fast. Bile rises behind her teeth.

“Am I hitting a sore spot, sweetheart ?” Zeus laughs at her, forcefully cups her check, in a mockery of care. He turns to Soap “I guess we’ll find a way to have fun with her, me and my men, one way or another…”, He clicks his tongue, rests his hand on the handle of the knife attached to his belt, the threat blatant, “Don’t worry, you’ll watch before it’s your turn.” he snarls. Johnny grits his teeth, holds his tongue because he’s afraid anything he would say would be faced with some sort of retaliation on Rain. 

Zeus is not done. “Oh, one last thing. I just want to make it very clear for the both of you - I already got the intel I need. But my client wants you dead, so why not have a little fun while we’re at it? Well, I mean they want MacTavish dead.” Zeus goes back in front of Rain, “Sorry darling, you’re not quite famous enough for people to actually care about you.”

She spits in his face and he laughs it off. 

---

Ghost is the first to go in. He had rushed through the stairs of the decrepit building, stopping only a couple of seconds at every floor to make sure the way was clear before climbing up again. He doesn’t want to think about what he’s going to find. He only focuses on taking down any hostile as discreetly as possible. He doesn’t even want them to suffer, he has no will to torture - he just want them to be gone . Bones turned to ashes. Cleaned from the surface of this earth. He looks at their faces just long enough to forget them after. 

Since the news of their capture, he feels numb. Immune to any kind of emotions - dissociated - mind split into so many shards he wonders if it will ever heal. It’s not the first time one of them - of the 141 - has been captured. Not the first time he has to lead a rescue mission. But it’s her. And Johnny. And he knew this would happen - he knew it. 

The scars on his back are itchy, like the wounds were about to open again, as if time just decided to go backwards. The trauma of his own capture had been kept locked away very efficiently, Simon had tucked it into some layers at the root of his mind, pressed there between his will to live and his dedication to duty, a prison of steel where it was supposed to be forgotten forever.

Until Soap’s frantic voice had crackled through the comm - We been hit… is compromised… - and then the silence. Price had looked at him, surprise and something that must have been akin to fear in his eyes. Since then, Simon can feel it, the anxiety feeding on the ugly things he has repressed for years, gnawing at the base of his skull, ready to burst free. And along with it, blooms the guilt of failing to protect them from the worst that can happen to a soldier - to anyone . 

When he kills the first guard, he doesn’t bother to look at his face, but as he goes through the long corridors, sniping down each enemy, something clicks. He knows most of them. They’re mercenaries. When his knife slices the throat of another one, he can read in his eyes the terrible recognition and he’s pretty sure he can hear him croak “Ghost?” against his gloved palm before life leaves him.

Price, Gaz and him clear the rooms with brutal efficiency, and by the point they reach the end of the floor, they don’t bother with discretion anymore. They find a pile of discarded boots (two big ones, and two smaller) and belts and gears. Soap and Rain’s stuff. They are kept here, it’s a certainty now. So they kill and kill - sink bullets in old allies - terminating even the injured despite their begging. Ghost is bashing open every door he can see, leaving the last mercenaries to his teammates, until he finds it - the cell. 

He fires at the lock, kicks the door and goes in, handgun first. He scans the room in a second. Clear . And it’s like everything explodes inside him. The air is filled with the smell of gunpowder and fresh blood and revenge. Here they are, Soap and Rain. Soap is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, head lolling against his chest. His face is a mess of red, blood covering dark bruises, like stones at the bottom of a crimson pond. His clothes look soaked, his bare feet are also bloodied.

Rain is sitting on the floor, hands bound behind her back, curled against the leg of McTavish. She might be comforting herself as much as she’s trying to comfort her Sergeant. She’s down to the tight black shorts she wears underneath her cargo pants, her T-shirt is half-torned at the collar, hanging loosely on her shoulders. Blue and black patches are dotted on her upper arms, on her naked legs, but she looks in way better shape than Soap. 

“Simon” she whispers. And he realizes he’s been standing there in shock for a couple seconds. She turns her face to him, and there is a smear of vermilion on her cheek, where it was pressed against Soap’s thigh. Her eyes are a little wild, the white veined in reddish streaks - she must have cried. “Simon” she says again, like she can’t quite believe he’s real. 

Ghost snaps open the zip ties, and as soon as she’s free, she turns to Soap, holds his face in her small hands. “Johnny, Johnny, they’re here - you’ll be ok - Fuck, Johnny, please look at me…” she begs, while Simon frees him as well. Price and Gaz are at the doorstep, taking in the scene before them. Ghost is holding Rain with one arm, trying to prevent Soap from falling on the ground with the other - and she’s frantic, she repeats his name, tries to wake him up from his lethargic state. Simon tries to reassure her - Rain, let me take care of him. Rain. Rain, stop. 

But she can’t, she’s spiraling and she starts crying again. It feeds Simon’s own anxiety, he’s been helpless in protecting them, and even now he doesn’t know what to do. He presses her against him, hopes it will calm her down but it’s useless. Until her name - her true name - echoes in the room. Price’s voice is firm, devoid of any blame but commanding nonetheless. Ghost feels Rain stiffen immediately in his arms, her body reacting on instinct to her Captain’s order. 

Price gets her out of Simon’s grip, gently pulling her out of the way so he can take care of Soap. Are you hurt? Can you walk? She doesn’t answer, she’s shaking, from the cold and the shock of it all. Price scans her body, cataloging every bruise, the blood on her face, on her palms - not hers though. Soap’s…

“It’s bad Captain” Gaz whispers, eyes to the side, looking at Simon’s hauling Johnny in his arms. “We need to go. Now.” Price nods, gaze locked on Rain.

“Requesting evac. 6 minutes. They’re alive but … keep the medic on board.” Gaz’s radio crackled with a stern copy . They climbed on the roof to rendez-vous with the chopper. Rain insisted on retrieving some of her gear, she had put on her boots and holster, and had proceeded to unsheath her knife. Price had tried to argue she didn’t need to, she was safe now - but she wouldn’t listen. She made her way with the rest of them, in her shorts and torn shirt, holding her blade so tight her knuckles were white under the crimson of Soap’s blood clinging to her skin. She looked straight out of those dumb horror movies Soap likes to watch on leave. Bloodied and beaten and with tears on her cheeks, and yet still holding a knife ready to do whatever it takes to stay alive. 

Her head was too light and too heavy at the same time, her legs felt like cotton, she could barely hear anything above the deafening sound of her thumping heart. The last of her adrenaline was keeping her standing, but the second she got up into the chopper, she crashed. Price had to carefully pry the knife from her hands, strap her down to her seat, fix the headset on her ears, because her fingers were shaking too much.

On the other side of the heli, the medic was bunched over Johnny’s form, Ghost by his side. He turned back suddenly, back to her. The skull mask is streaked red, the white paint on his chin also. With the lack of light in the hull, she can’t see his eyes, just two holes of dark void. Anyone else would be terrified of him when he looks like this. Like some deranged creature that’s barely human, all bones and no flesh. But she spots the slight way his shoulders just drop, like he’s releasing a breath at her sight. Unconsciously, she mimics him, tries to even her breathing, tries to slow the angry roar of her blood. 

“‘Am fine” she states, voice flat, when Price clicks his mic open, before he even asks anything. “Just bruises. No internal bleeding. No concussion.” 

“Just let the medic check on you after.” Her captain insists.

“I have none of the symptoms.” She concludes and Price knows not to argue, because she started learning military medicine a few months ago and the new medic on base genuinely thought she was a colleague when she efficiently treated the open fracture of some rookie. Her ability to pick up new knowledge frightens him a bit sometimes. 

“I am fine.” she repeats mechanically. “I’m not the one injured.” she adds so low Price wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t for her mic. He picks up the underlying guilt in her statement immediately. 

“You stop this right now - Rain - Rain, listen to me. I’m fucking serious. It wasn’t your fault.” There is a tinge of despair behind the controlled anger in his voice. First time he sounds like this. It unsettles her. 

“You don’t understand, Johnny, he- he said stupid things so they would stop what they were- they tried to attack me-but…he…” She’s getting breathless, words stuck in her throat, hurting like she had been fed burning coal. Her voice not as monotonous as before, wavy and unsure. “He sacrificed himself.” and with that she starts to cry again. 

---

She’s asleep when Ghost joins her. The only reason she was able to close her eyes was the couple of sleeping pills and painkillers the medic slipped in Price’s hand before gesturing at her in a silent order. Her head had been spinning the whole time she shed her clothes and sat under the shower spray. From the medication and the exhaustion - Price had stayed to make sure she was alright. But at least she fell on her mattress and went unconscious the minute after.

Simon curls around her, squeezes her body against his, the warmth of her skin a blessing he wasn’t sure he would be able to know again. She moves in her sleep, sinks against his chest even further. Fuck . His heart misses a beat when he thinks about the fact she might have been gone. Forever. Her and Johnny, they both might have. He had spent the last hours mulling over his fear in the back of the room where the medic was trying his best to patch up Soap. 

Now all he wanted was for her to forget, for her to not have to go through what he had lived after his own capture. He stays there, strong arms around her waist, his discarded mask still covered in blood on the nightstand - an artifact powerful enough to repel the demons in her nightmares.

NEXT PART

[nininikki]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐌𝐑. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 | eren jaeger x black fem!reader

IV. it’s all coming back to me now

✧ summary! — your complicated feelings for eren come to a head during his star-studded ball.

✧ warnings! — alcohol consumption and mentions of it, mentions of sexual activity (piv), mentions of male masturbation, adultery, age gap—reader is 29 and eren is 40, some POV switching, angst

✧ author’s note! — WHEW, it’s here! after looking at nothing but this google doc for the past few days my brain is so damn fried so all i can say is THANK U ALL SM for all your love and for just existing &&& i really hope you like it! 💘🫶🏽💋💋

✧ word count! — 3.6k series masterlist! / previous chapter!

14 MAY, SIX MONTHS AFTER THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION

“i mean, it sounds stupid now, but…you should’ve seen the man.” mikasa said, her face screwed up in a scary smugness. “from my perspective, at least. it was like…” she took a big gulp of sparkling water down her throat, and chewed on some ice cubes to wash it down. hurt channeled at the network of veins on her neck, and you still hadn’t quite processed the fact that you were the cause for it.  “it was like night and day.”

***

14 SEPTEMBER, TWO MONTHS BEFORE THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION 

“and ms. (y/n), who exactly are you wearing tonight?”

no matter how he tried, eren just couldn’t help the way he stared as you smoothed your hands over the skirt of your dress. it was pink, and just the right shade—the kind that reminded him of soft cotton candy melting on his tongue. the beauty—the grandness—of your ensemble was akin to walking through an entire forest of showering cherry blossoms.

“none other than mugler, of course.” you responded, flashing the oh so lucky reporter an award-winning smile. despite evening shadows that had begun dusting against his front lawn, the flush of crimson crawling over the collar of his leather jacket and peeking at the top of his neck was striking. 

what was he doing? there was an onslaught of guests piling in—all ranging from a-list celebrities to politicians with enough influence to make or break his campaign at any given moment. eren supposed he should care. and he was really, really trying to. had you not been so you, or had he not been so stupid, simply looking at you wouldn’t be such a strain. then, as quickly as that thought crossed his mind, he condemned himself for even allowing it to. he was the reason for his unfaithfulness (or, more technically speaking, his desire to be unfaithful). 

it was he who had fought tooth and nail with his very own resolve after each and every one of your phone calls, trying to keep his hands above the buckle of his belt long enough to rationalize the thoughts coursing through his head. it was he who, no matter how he tried, couldn’t find the will to fight those same temptations under the cold spray of shower water—tugging his painfully erect cock until the faint whisper of your name left his lips and the remnants of his disloyalty trickled down the shower walls. it was eren who wouldn’t be able to get the sound of your laugh out of his head even if he struck it against those same shower walls forever.

just as eren began to take his eyes off you, they landed on his wife, who was just scurrying past nearby and looked utterly delighted to see him. “ah, there you are!” mikasa’s hands found his, and she craned her neck up at him to receive a kiss on the cheek. in the time it took him to oblige her wish, her lips were in perfect position to whisper, “levi wants us to dance later.” against the shell of his ear. he understands then that his mission for tonight is to be married. he was going to sweep mikasa off her feet on the dance floor and laugh with her over a couple glasses of champagne. but first, he was going to kiss her on the cheek and tell her how radiant she looked, because that’s just what good husbands did.

***

“aren’t they cute?” hange cooed in your ear, their watchful eye turned subtly toward eren and mikasa. he was stamping a kiss over her cheek, and then spinning around to assess her outfit. if your lip reading skills served you well enough, he was saying something along the lines of, “you look amazing.”

upon catching mikasa’s diamond wedding ring glinting in the light of the setting sun as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear, you briefly considered choking from the onslaught of bile climbing up your throat. “the cutest.” you chirped out instead. hanged snaked an arm around your waist a little tighter than usual, and you let them. you were gonna need it. “c’mon, i think the party’s heading inside.”

***

the jaeger ballroom was something of a spectacle. carved into the arched, sky high ceilings were designs so ornate they looked to be paintings. opulence filled the air, along with the chipper aroma of freshly poured champagnes and the staticky buzz of tipsy chatter. 

“i can have you five movie deals by the end of the night.” hange hypothesized aloud, their eyes hungrily scanning the throng of stars socializing about. 

“is now really the best time to be pimping me out?”

“honey, i can’t think of a better time than now.” their eyes lit up at the sight of an esteemed director laughing heartily over what couldn’t have been his first glass of champagne. “now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“oh, hange, please,” you half pleaded. the last thing you needed was to be alone with all your thoughts. 

hange only retracted their arm from the comfort of your waist and kissed at your temple. “you’re gonna thank me for this, don’t worry.”

you tried not to let your shoulders drop before the eyes of so many people as you carried yourself over to the bar. it was delightfully vacant and ensconced beneath just enough shadows to grant you a little bit of privacy. as you maneuvered yourself and your dress upon a chair, the memory of eren and mikasa gushing over one another poked and prodded at your brain incessantly, as if with the intention of making it explode behind your skull. 

you couldn’t help but wonder if the glances you two sneaked to one another in public, or the conversations shared during the late hours of the night, or the mutual feelings that surely plagued his thoughts as well as your own, were all just…that. a secret, an affair, a rendezvous. something dirty and scandalous and not meant to purge past the dark of night. 

who were you kidding? of course they were. no matter how little he loved his wife, (although, you couldn’t be a hundred percent sure eren didn’t love mikasa. and that made you feel a little sick) she would still be his wife. and you’d still be…well, you didn’t quite know. 

“hi.” came eren’s voice behind you, accompanied by a tap to your shoulder. you were so nestled within your head that you were hardly even startled. 

in a few lithe strides, he was standing in front of you. “hey, you,” he really did look so perfect tonight. and it didn’t help that he was looking at you like you were perfect too. “how’s your ball going?”

eren’s voice took on a joking air as he surveyed the area. “not too shabby, i’d say.” for whatever reason, when he brought his gaze back to you, they seemed as if they’d never leave. “what about you? what do you think?”

as you pondered over an answer to his question, you couldn’t help but notice the way he took the plush skin of his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before releasing the now smoothly damp, blushing flesh from its confines. only one word came to mind. “beautiful.”

at that, eren’s eyes pressed shut for a moment before opening again, seemingly miles brighter than before they closed. “that makes me happy to hear.” embarrassingly, your entire body warmed at the lower octave of his voice, and for a moment you hated that he could do this to you. “and, hey, speaking of beautiful things,” he nodded towards you, and if it were possible, his voice was even sexier when he said, “i haven’t been able to stop looking at you all night.”

somehow, your composure was still intact. “is that so?” 

“absolutely.” eren beamed. “if you’ll let me, i’d love a dance with you at some point.” 

as you took a moment to let his words seep into your skin as they always did, his attention was drawn to something on the other side of the room, and without much forewarning, he quickly said, “excuse me, (y/n).” before whisking away. 

***

“put your hands on my hips.” mikasa murmured, and then smiled politely when eren did. he hoped it wasn’t too painfully obvious to the onlookers that mikasa was skilled in ballroom dance and he was not. “everything’s going well. i’ve spoken with investors, and they’ve all seemed promising.”

eren whispered before spinning mikasa in a circle. “good to hear.”

they danced in silence for a few beats until mikasa said, “you could try and look at least somewhat in love.”

eren fought the urge to drop his smile, and spun mikasa into a dip. mikasa’s face came up flushed, smiling, and framed by a few out of place hairs. “really hard to do when you’re in my ear about investors.”

still beaming, she said between her teeth, “well, not everyone can just sit on their asses all day. one of us has to care about your career.” 

“god, you’re unbelievable.”

“am i wrong?”

the song ended, and the pair tried not to make it so obvious they were eager to get their hands off each other. eren could see a tangible effort put in by his wife to keep smiling, no matter how artificial, and he wasn’t sure whether he feared or admired it more.

***

you were out of there. from the moment he took mikasa’s hand and led her out to the dance floor. from the moment he twirled her body around in a graceful little circle. from the moment you watched them look into each other’s eyes in the way only a husband and wife did. you were so out of there.

sneaking away was easy. by now, everyone (including hange, who you could see had now taken to flirting with a random caterer) was drunk off their asses, and likely couldn’t tell you from a can of paint.

once you were outside, breathing began to feel manual. the diamonds around your neck were strangling. the jovial sounds of the party inside still rang in your ears. you weren’t far away enough. so, you ran. you ran through the vast, flourishing garden that lie behind the spacious property. you ran until the soles of your feet ached with each step. you ran until the memory of eren dancing with mikasa didn’t hurt so much.

you didn’t stop until you were in an area ensconced by trees. it’d have been completely dark if not for light emanating from the beaming moon. a tall stone fountain trickled nearby, and you wasted no time sitting on its edge. as your heart tried to climb out of your throat, a late summer breeze swept through the trees and covered your bare shoulders in goose flesh.

you wondered how you would muster the courage to go back to the party. you wondered how you would even find your way back. the gardens were a tall, grassy maze that you had hardly any business running through in the first place.

“(y/n)?” you heard a voice call. or rather, the voice—his voice. you had half a mind to brush it off as some kind of hypothermic delusion until eren smoothed through the entryway. his gaze caught yours from where you sat at the fountain, and incommunicable relief passed his eyes. “there you are,” if there was still any doubt that he was real, it was all extinguished when he wandered into the moonlit area towards you. hands folded politely behind his back, his hair a little messier than usual. “you had me worried for a moment.”

“guess i owe you a dance, then.” you attempted to joke, fighting off the shiver that threatened to rack your limbs.

“you owe me more than that, i think.” the glimmer of the moon made him look like an angel, and the firm tone coloring his voice did nothing to help. “like an explanation, maybe. as to why you’re out here.”

“how’d you even find me?” you challenged. “this place is,” you waved your arms high above your head as if to showcase its size. “massive.”

“i actually own the place, if you didn’t know.” you fought the urge to smile at his wit. eren took his hands from behind his back to unveil a pretty pink chanel heel. he only needed to hold it up for a second to know it was yours. “and i think you dropped something off on the way.”

you pulled up the skirt of your dress to see one foot still clad in its respective heel while the other was only sheathed in your nylon stockings. how much adrenaline had been coursing through your body for you to have not noticed? still inspecting your practically naked foot, you held your hand out to take the shoe from him, but he disregarded it as he kneeled before you. “no, let me.”

there was something especially intimate about this. about how delicate eren was being with you. his hands were big, but so capable of being gentle. the skin of his palms were so warm against your ankles, the tips of his fingers so light against your soles, you almost found yourself giggling at the pleasantness of it.

once he was finished, you stood, admittedly a little too flustered. “thank you.”

he seemed to barely acknowledge it, only nodding as he rose to his feet. “now, are you gonna tell me why you’re out here?”

for what felt like the first time the entire night, you finally allowed your shoulders to sink under all the emotion they had been carrying. “it’s silly.” eren’s gaze was unwavering, but soft nonetheless. he had the kind of eyes that made you want to tell him everything.

you turned your back to him, unsheathing yourself in the warmth of his stare. could eren hear the rapid thumping of your pulse? could he hear it skipping when he said, “i’m sure it’s not.”

“no it’s, uh,” gingerly, you began walking around the fountain, and you could hear his footsteps trailing close behind. “being jealous of a man’s wife, that’s…that’s, um, really stupid of me, actually…” your mouth was clumsy as it fumbled over the words, and you could only conceal the stupidity of your confession with a sardonic chuckle. “i should go.” you whispered, turning to face him again, with no intention of leaving.

“don’t.” eren protested. through your peripheral vision, you saw his hand reach for yours, and you were unsure whether you should flinch away or push yourself closer. 

your voice was a hair away from breaking. “there’s nothing for me out here.” you knew what you were saying. you understood its implications. eren was far from nothing, but he was also a fool if he believed the feelings you shared could ever go beyond this patch of land.

“how could you even say that knowing how i feel about you?” eren braved a step toward you, searching for the passion—the devotion—in your eyes that was so evident in his.

“how you feel about me?” the utter absurdity of it made you laugh, and it was then you registered the moisture building in your eyes. “yeah, like that means anything.” 

“and it doesn’t?” 

“it can’t!” the words escaped you in the form of a bitter, scratching scream. eren’s eyes only softened. “you’re married, so it can’t mean anything.”

“i think,” absolutely nothing could prepare you for the feeling of his fingertips brushing against yours. once, twice, then three times. something about each little touch made it a bit more real. now, your feelings were more than that. now, he was touching you. “i think it already does.”

it all happened so fast. you barely got the chance to think, this is such a bad idea before his fingertips were skating briskly up your arm and both of his hands—so big, and oh so capable—were on either sides of your neck. caressing the skin there, assessing the thunder of your pulse, pulling you closer until the tips of your noses brushed against one another.

the first syllable of his name left your mouth in a choked whimper, and that was all you could let before eren kissed you. 

soft. that was the only possible word. his lips were tender and sticky with champagne. you could tell he was testing your waters first—brushing his lips against yours ever so gently, allowing you to get a taste of one another before he went in for the kill. he planted a soft one on your bottom lip, then another when you felt yourself trembling. then he was at your top lip—also trembling with newborn nerves but still just as eager. “tell me to stop and i will.” eren breathed into your mouth.

you considered it for a moment. you considered letting the warmth of his hands leave your skin, letting him go back to the party, letting him leave you. his eyes were serious, and you could tell he was considering it too. you closed your eyes, grazed your lips over his just a fraction or so, and that was all the answer eren needed.

when he took your lips properly for the first time, it felt as though they were no longer yours. eren kissed you passionately, slowly, as if kissing was all you would ever be able to do. and you let him. as his tongue slipped between your already parted lips, you let yourself get lost in the champagne taste that lingered on it. you let him kiss you for so long that you’d started to get dizzy from how little you were breathing. and you loved it.

you loved having his mouth on you. you loved little wet sounds that emanated whenever he took his lips off yours. you loved how he was holding you—one hand at your nape and the other cupping your jaw. you loved how good he was making you feel. “eren, more.” you had managed to say between kisses.

and it seemed he was more than happy to oblige. he took his lips over your neck as if they belonged there, nipping and sucking at that same frenetic pulse point like he was hungry for it—hungry for you. you held his hair back as he worked down your neck and over your collarbones. eren’s eyes darkened as he smoothed his lips up and down the valley between your breasts. not yet kissing, but running his mouth over the delicate skin. “can i kiss you here?” he asked, voice muffled by desire as he palmed your left breast.

“uh-huh,” you nodded, and eren had dropped down on one knee for better access. smoothly, you maneuvered the straps of your dress off your shoulders just in time for eren to pull you in. 

his hands on your waist, his tongue making busywork over your pert left nipple, his name on your lips. “you like it when i touch you here?” he asked, the tip of his nose nudging the spot where his mouth had just been. you nodded again.

eren took a hand that had been on your waist and let it drop over your ankle. “what about right here?” then that hand was moving up your calf. “and here?” towards the back of your knee. “you like this too?” up the doughy flesh of your thigh, where he took his time fondling the nylon-covered skin. “oh, yeah, i know you like this.” he murmured as you squirmed.

“you’re so warm,” eren groaned as his remaining joined the other under your dress, both kneading your thighs whilst teasing the skin between them. the tip of his thumb grazed over the crotch area of your stockings and you shivered. “can i feel you here?” 

yes. the answer was so obvious that you’d hardly felt the need to say it. just as your mouth began to open around the response, a monstrous clap of thunder roared across the sky, followed by a burst of lightening, which was then followed by gentle rainfall.

it was like the rain had been trying to sober you. all the warmth, all the lust, all the irrationality—all rinsed away by the rain and its growing freneticism. hurriedly, you readjusted the shoulders of your dress and helped eren to his feet. “we should get out of here.” you sighed, swallowing a gulp. “before we get too wet.”

eren only nodded, his hands having settled on your waist. you waited for him to take them off, for the moment to be over, for your need to touch him to finally dissipate. you waited and waited, and it seemed he was doing the same.

finally, eren moved to slip his suit jacket off his shoulders and set it carefully over yours. “here, let me,”

“you shouldn’t.” you tried, already attempting to shrug the expensive material off of you.

eren persisted, “i want to.” as he tugged it over you more securely. “now, let’s get out of here.”

***

it was only eleven o’clock. the rest of the party, still inside and blissfully ignorant to the rain, weren’t there to see eren escort you into your car. 

“is your manager still in there?” eren asked once you were nestled safely in the backseat.

how angry would hange be if you left them there for the remainder of the night? how angry would they be if you pulled them away from a good party (and potentially even better money) just because you’d gotten a little carried away with eren in his garden?

“i’ll call them in the morning.” you decided.

tags ✧˖*°࿐ — @nyanglock @beyondsuki @punkologist @taylarxse @ittostan @rensbby @madsoncrack @shawtynoire @braxxinterlude @kai7911

© NININIKKI. do not translate, copy, or modify my works in any way shape or form.

[hiimawarish]

laws of attraction

s. alhaitham has solved many enigmas, except you. cw. mutual pining? kind of? fluff. a lil romantic tension. implied academic rivals. tw. none. not proofread. wc. 0.69k a/n. i was getting ready for bed, the first sentence popped up in my mind, and here we are. i have no excuse. credits. dividers by @/cafekitsune.

There were not many things Alhaitham struggled to understand.

From his focus on linguistics and ancient languages to his almost obsessive pursuit of knowledge in other areas such as physics, he had discovered from a young age that his mind was gifted. No book was too advanced for him. No lecture too complicated or dense. Alhaitham’s life had been overcome with a thirst for knowledge that he had never quite quenched, or perhaps he had never been truly interested in satiating it. 

Whatever the reason, the truth remained that Alhaitham had found fewer challenges the more he studied. Be it Kaveh’s emotional outbursts or the inefficiency of his classmates, Alhaitham was unfazed. Keeping to himself was more a second nature than a habit by now—as natural as breathing, as reading.

It allowed him fewer failures. Not that they were ever abundant.

Unless it came to you, that is.

“Struggling?” His voice left him in his usual stoic manner, and yet the flash of anger in your eyes did not go unnoticed. Although subtle, if one were to pay close attention to his face, they’d notice the slight curve on his lips—a smile. “Which book?”

“Shut up.”

An amused chuckle left him at your words whispered in anger. The heat gathered in your cheeks at the sound, shame spreading to your ears and down into your neck and cleavage, hidden from his eyes under the Akademiya’s uniform. His laughter, though short, seemed to anger you even more—Alhaitham had discovered, quite quickly, that any sound coming from him seemed to have that effect. Even when he was merely offering his help to reach the book that you not-so-gracefully had been trying to get for the past ten minutes.

In spite of your mumbled, aggressive words, Alhaitham stretched his arm. His fingers traced the spine of a few books—linguistics in context, a comparison in-depth of language evolution around Teyvat, a compilation of ancient runes—until he finally got to the one he was sure you needed. He plucked it out from the shelf, admiring the familiar cover for a few seconds, before handing it to you.

“I never said I needed this.” You replied stubbornly. 

You were always too fast to refuse his help. That was his fault, according to Kaveh, but Alhaitham disagreed. Giving you fake praise on that draft you presented him on your first day of class would have been a disservice to you, and yet you had been far too prideful. Now you avoided his help—him—like the plague. 

Alhaitham glanced once toward the table you had been sitting at, an arrangement of old textbooks, reports, and scribbled notes surrounding your space. He turned his eyes to you, a questioning look that told you the answer was obvious. You did need it. You did need the comparative essay on how language had shaped Sumeru’s two faces. 

You were, still, too prideful, it seemed.

“You do, actually.” He placed the book on your table, dismissively. “It’s a primary source, shouldn’t you know that?”

A stubborn silence on your part is all he received. 

Alhaitham sighed. “It seems I overestimated your common sense. Or lack-there-of.”

He should leave. He knew that—his rationality screamed at him to stop bothering, to take your words at face value, and just leave you alone. But he couldn’t. Whether he relished in provoking you or simply saw you as an enigma that he needed to understand, he couldn’t tell. 

“See? You’re an idiot.” You nudged him angrily, ineffectual fists hitting his chest. Some other students had stopped, looking curiously at your exchange—usually, the attention would bother him, but he was too focused on you. On your scrunched-up nose, your furrowed brows, your lips pressed together in a thin, tempting line. “If you’re here just to make fun of me, leave. I’m sure you have far better and more important things to do.”

He sighed, though his lips curved in a subtle smile—he was familiar with facts, concrete information, but you seemed to be too abstract for him to grasp. The only thing Alhaitham knew for sure was that you were a magnet.

And he understood the laws of attraction too well to fight.

more works.

©2023 hiimawarish do not translate, repost, copy, modify

[jhilsara]

Tie Me to You/17

Chapter Summary: Diana comes around, Mika and Damien have a long talk, and Sam and Mika talk about what she saw.

Word Count: 1.9k

<Last | Next>

Chapter Warnings: Just a lot of angst.

This fanfic will explore heavier emotions and will have eventual smut. Minors DNI

Can also be found on AO3 X

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons

One single thread of gold tied me to you

invisible strings - Taylor Swift

 If Mika wasn’t so exhausted by the past six or so months, she’d call what was happening a cruel joke. That wasn’t her reality anymore though and she had about enough of waiting in the wings.  

Mika’s in between her classes and she spots the succubus in the distance. It didn’t take magic to tell the beautiful woman standing out amongst the rest of the students and professors didn’t belong there. 

Or the fact her ruby eyes were narrowed as she glowered at Mika. Mika briskly walks towards the woman, full of purpose. She doesn’t give the succubus a moment as she grabs her wrist and drags the woman into the closest building and finds an empty classroom. Mika closes the door and turns towards the demon.  

“Why are you here ?” Mika asked, her tone exhausted and not filled with anger so much as annoyance.  

She crosses her arms and looks at the succubus. The demon in turns raises a perfect brow at how well-mannered Mika is being. 

“I’ve already told you why.” She said with a frown, “I just need one of them to marry me and then I can destroy their father before that mad man destroys all of the Abyssal Plains!” her voice rises with desperate anger, her energy pulsating around her.  

Mika sighs, “Why marriage?! Can’t they just go and help you fight? Why does one of them have to give up their freedom?” She tries to reason with the woman.  

The succubus bristles, “It isn’t as easy as that. If I want in, I must have the political power and safety that a marriage will provide. Fake or not.” she growls out lowly, “Their father will forgive them if I waltz in with one of them on my arm! It is their duty!”   

Mika steps forward, “They deserve their freedom just as much as you.” she says heated with a glare of her own.  

The succubus’ eyes flash with rage, a golden rim circling her red iris. “Do not tell me how my own domain works human!” her voice echoes loudly in the small classroom. She steps toward Mika, her glamour fading as her magic pools beneath her feet. Her tail swishing in anger like a feral cat cornering its prey. “I am a direct descendant of Lilith and I will marry one of them and I will take down that tyrant if it is the last living thing I do!” she shouts at Mika, baring her teeth.  

Mika stands unfazed, glaring at the woman before her, “I don’t understand why you can’t just ask for help?!” 

The succubus stands tall, her brow furrowed in anger as she looks at Mika coldly, “A human like you could never understand. So run along back to your life.” Her voice has so warmth as her hand reaches out to run through Mika’s hair, “I will take them with me, and you will forget they were ever a part of your life.” her low voice threatens as she releases Mika. Taking a step back into a portal she’s summoned on the floor.  

“They won’t leave without a fight; I am trying to tell you it would be easier to have them working with you! Not against.” Mika tries to plead with the succubus to think even remotely rationally.  

The woman stares down Mika, her scorching red eyes are the last thing she sees before the demon disappears. 

Mika stares at the empty space where the demon just was and growls in frustration. She slams her bag down on the ground and screams in frustration. She covers her face and leans against the door sliding down to the floor.  

“What do I do?” she whispers pressing her face into her knees.  

Mika’s in her grandfather’s study looking through the notes James translated for her. She’s trying to practice, at least what she can understand. There are lists of barrier spells, how to prevent unwanted energies in your home, and supply list of materials. That was just a small section. That didn’t even count the many counter spells to use for fighting.  

She’s flipping through the pages frantically, unsure of what she’s really trying to find besides something that she feels isn’t too complicated. She was so amped up and determined from her interaction earlier with the succubus demon, that she felt she didn’t have time to ignore these notes.  

She doesn’t even bother to stop the swirling storm of thoughts roaring in her head.  

When Damien comes to the doorway and knocks it scares her so bad she jumps.  

“Damien! Don’t sneak up on me please...” she chastises as she bends down to pick up the pages she dropped.  

Damien crosses his arms and raises a brow, “You’re basically screaming in your head. I came to check on you because if not your thoughts are going to give me a migraine.” He responds with a frown.  

She at least has the sense to look apologetic. “Sorry... I kind of, forgot.”  

Damien steps into the room and rolls his eyes, “Well, it’s clearly brothering you.” he states with a deadpan face.  

Mika sets the notes down on the desk and bites her lip, “I just... I don’t understand why she can’t just ask for help! Why does it have to be so complicated?!” 

Her voice rises with her frustration. She pulls on her own hair as she looks at Damien unsure of where to go from here. 

Damien sighs and looks at the floor as he responds, “It’s the world we grew up in. Demons aren’t accustomed to having to ask for help. It’s always a battle for territory. To her, marrying one of us is winning a territory battle. It’s all she knows. And she knows war… trust me.”  he murmurs the last part under his breath. 

Mika looks up at him, “Would you help her?” Her voice is quiet, afraid almost to ask. “If she asked, I mean.”  

Damien flinches at her words, and Mika feels guilty. She knows what it would be like having to face an abuser again. The last time she saw her father was at the announcement party. That ended badly, but she also doesn’t regret it. She could do anything as long as she had the support of her family. 

She’s just one person, and human at that, she can’t contribute to their decisions, but she will have their back regardless.  

“I... I don’t know.” Damien answers looking up at her cautiously. “I feel like-” Damien cuts himself off trying to find his words. “I think it is our duty to end him, if the demons of the plains ask for our help. It’s selfish of us to escape and not offer that to the Abyssal Plains as well.” He responds quietly.  

Mika moves to hug Damien. All the visions he showed her flash in her memory, and she holds onto him tightly.  

“There’s no right answer Damien. You don’t have to go back to a place that never offered you kindness. We’ll figure it out.” 

Mika doesn’t see the succubus on campus after that. The run-in was enough to make her hypervigilant as she walked to her classes.  

She’s in her room working on her assignment for her class when a loud knock on the door interrupts her thoughts. The noise makes her jump before she’s up and opens her door in confusion.  

Her furrowed face relaxes a bit upon seeing it’s just Sam at the door. She moves to let him in, but his own face tells her he has something on his mind. He’s pacing aggressively in front of her bed. 

She slowly closes her door and tilts her head in confusion. She almost says something before Sam looks up at her with a look so intense she would think it was a glare if the sadness in his eyes didn’t give him away.  

“Do you want us to leave?” he asked with an edge to his voice. 

Mika balks for a moment in shock, “ What ?” 

She moves in quick strides to get to him.  

Sam takes a step back, his fists clenched as he looks at the ground. Mika halts in her steps looking at him bewildered by his statement. 

“If it’s because of what I’ve done- what you saw-” he said in a low gravelly voice. 

“If you think I’m a monster because of everything I’ve done. I did it to protect my family.”  

His voice is raw as he glares holes into the floor, like he’s ashamed of himself. 

“Sam.” she whispers his name. Mika walks toward him purposefully and gently cups his face in her hands. “I don’t-” Mika moves his face to make him look at her. “You are not a monster. Not to me.” she said with a fierce look of determination. 

“Fuck-” Sam’s jaw is clenched, and Mika can see the frustration building from the tension in his muscles.  

“Where did this come from?” She demands. 

“Damien- he asked us about helping that damned woman and told us you had talked about it with him.” He admits looking up at her with a desperate need for an explanation.  

“I don’t want you to leave.” she replies quickly. Mika gently caresses his cheek trying to coax him to relax. 

He looks at her in disbelief, his brow still furrowed. She sighs.  

“Damien and I were talking about what you guys should do. He came to talk to me after she came to my campus-”  

“She did what?!” Sam exclaims in anger. Mika holds her hand up to his mouth to stop him.  

“The point was I couldn’t give him an answer. It’s not my place.” she said quietly. 

She looks at Sam with such an intense softness as she tries to smooth out his brow to get him to relax. “I want you to do what you think is right for you .” she whispers looking into his eyes.  

“If that means you have to leave-” she turns her head and takes a shaky breath, trying to keep herself composed. “I’ll support whatever you and your brothers decide. That’s all the conversation was.”  

Sam silently stares at Mika, his hands coming up to hold her wrists to move them from his face. The act almost breaks her heart, as she prepares for the worst.  

“Are you stupid?”  

Mika freezes in shock as she meets Sam’s gaze. He holds her hands tightly in his and brings them to his chest. He presses his forehead against hers and his gaze is nothing but determined.  

“I want to be with you. I’m done worrying about my father. No demon, devil, or angel is going to stop me.” he tells her with a firm voice.  

Mika feels her knees buckle at his admission and she can feel the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She blinks to hopefully stop herself from crying. Sam wraps his arms around her waist and buries his face into her neck. 

Mika’s hands come up to rake her fingers through Sam’s hair to try and sooth him. She can feel him instantly relax under her touch.  

“She’s not taking me and if the angels try to touch you, I’ll burn the Heavens myself.” he murmurs into her neck.  

Mika gives a soft laugh, “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” she asked, pulling back to look at his face. 

He shoots her a tiny glare and she bites her lip trying to not laugh at him. “You don’t know what the alternatives are.” 

Mika presses a soft kiss to Sam’s temple. “Thank you.” She whispered. 

“For what?” he asked, humming contently.  

She pressed her face into his chest, “For being here, with me.”  

Sam snorts before he leans down to capture Mika’s lips in a heated kiss. All his pent-up energy released into his affection for her. She wraps her arms around his neck to pull herself impossibly closer.  

[angelic-daiquiri]

!!NEWS FLASH!! They hate you cuz they ain't you (a hot girl rant about haters)

this is just a rant about what I've learnt overtime from bullies and bitches

It's story time people (tw, skip to after the picture if you're uncomfortable)

Nothing in my life is consistent except getting hated on. It's not even sad it's just funny as fuck tbh and I've gotten used to it. I was bullied cuz they found me annoying, WHEN I DIDNT EVEN TALK TO THEM. It took me many years to stop giving a fuck about them.

The only year where people didn't hate me was in 10th when the rumors were forgotten (that's a story for another day), I never knew why nobody wanted to talk to me or why they hated me, I assumed it was because I'm annoying (and that turned into a HUGE insecurity) but I couldn't have been annoying because I rarely talked to them, and I have people who've been with me for over a decade and they've never found me annoying. So I decided to switch schools, and now here I am with a group of girls talking shit about me right in front of me (istg and they're like "nO aNa wE aRe NoT tAlKinG aBoUt yOu" like bro do you think I'm blind?)

"So why do they do that ana?"

For that you gotta understand why do people hate others?

Well if you search it up you'll most likely see jealousy as the main cause and also

Projecting-

you've always heard people say "Oh they're just projecting insecurities on you" right? But even tho is reason is a very rational one I had never understood it...that is until recently I saw it in front of my eyes. This girl in my class (let's call her tiana) tiana is a very very insecure girl, she's a little cubby and curvy and she hated that about her, She was forced to sit beside me and we talked so she opened up about why she was this insecure, I could understand it, she truly was a nice and beautiful girl, and I tried to comfort her where she looked at me and goes "easy for you to say". Then I realised she was jealous Now before any of this happened she used to talk shit about me telling people I took like the skull emoji and that I'm a whore because I keep trying too much (to look pretty) she used to get angry whenever I left my hair down and for no fucking reason. When she opened up, everything fell into place. She was insecure about her body so she started skinny shaming me and hated on my looks. I've always tried to help her out, because I love helping people but I don't think she's gonna change anytime soon. So this proves the first reason why people hate on others THEY'RE JUST JEALOUS OF YOU BABE, CUZ YOU'RE LITERALLY THAT GIRL (or guy or them or enby yk what I mean)

What I've understood from getting bullied and hated on

People are dogshit, even if you go to someone to vent or tell them someone hates you there is a rare chance they'll ask you what you had done to them. (Which always happened to me). This is just like victim blaming, and this fucks up people's pov of themselves. There will always be people talking shit about you, because no-one listens to them when they talk about themselves (I saw this on Pinterest lmao) You are the creator of your goddamn reality, you can't let other people's negativity fuck you up. You're literally a gem, you'll not even think about them when you're living your dream life. So why let them ruin your thoughts now.

your thoughts create reality, so do you want to live in a reality filled with negativity or are you too tired to give a fuck? So stop giving fucks

Stop letting them into your mind, it's your mind and they have no right to control your thoughts and you can't control their opinions on you. You do not have to prove anything to anyone except yourself babe.

I get it, it's so annoying to hear people say "stop caring" when it's so hard to do, but you can't become a puppet for them and let their words ruin what you are. listen to me DO YOU WANNA BE A PUPPET? DO YOU WANNA BE A LITTLE DOG ON THEIR LEASH?. No right?, so it's about time you realise you can't control their hatred, you should just keep being yourself because YOU know what YOU truly are.

If you're still not convinced please go on YouTube and search up "tam kaur", "simonesquared" and "thewizardliz"

Remember, it's your life. You are god

dni if: homophobic, transphobic, racist, if you don't care about the people dying in Palestine, congo, etc, anyone whos so religious its toxic or people who hate on religions, I don't like men thank you (just the creepy ones please stay away, I have a taser 🥰), anti shifters, pick me's, dark humor people, yk

[medusapelagia]

Hidden Treasure - STBB Proj 7 WIP Wednesday - Steve

This is the last promo banner for my @strangerthingsbigbang fic, featuring my pretty boy: Steve Harrington! The next time I'll be talking about this fic it will be officially posted! A huge thanks to my wonderful artists @mothellie and @ghostdeb, and my betas Manu K. and @suometar and see you during posting season!

tagging those who were interested: @katyawriteswhump @lingeringmirth @akichania @v3lv3tf0x @blog4horror

Under the cut a little snippet TW: storm, injuries, blood

The wood is wet and slippery, but Jeff is old salt, so he climbs down slowly, making sure to find a nice grip before moving a foot or a hand. He holds on to the ropes and his hands hurt from how strong his grip is, but one step at a time he is getting down to the deck, just a few feet and he will not be at the storm’s mercy anymore.  That’s when a big wave rocks the Golden Lion without mercy and he loses his grip and falls on the deck, yelling. Jeff doesn't even have the time to understand that he injured his ankle when another wave comes crashing. He has already shut his eyes, ready to be tossed into Davy Jones' locker, when someone grabs him by his belt and yanks him back.

When Jeff turns, the new boy has a rope around his chest and is holding him with all his strength. “Hold on!” Steve yells, crouching down with the other man against the ship’s rail.

They both curse while the salty water wet them till their bones, but they hold onto each other, shivering with cold and fear, until finally the sky starts to clear and the wind starts to die down. 

Someone behind them is praying, while some crew members are calling the names of their companions out loud, and in the chaos on the ship, Billy keeps yelling orders until the Golden Lion is in the clear and they find a little cove where they can drop anchor and assess the damage to the vessel and the crew. 

The ship has a few damages, they definitely need to search for a closer port to get it repaired, and they lost five members of the crew. The only reason Jeff wasn’t flung in the ocean was Steve's quick thinking, so the lad has finally gained his place in the crew. Their lookout has a sprained ankle and a few bruises but, even if he is not going back to the crowsnest soon, he is fine. Who worries the alpha is the beta man. Everytime they’re close he can smell something coming from him. It’s not exactly a scent, but it makes him uneasy, so he tries to avoid staying closer to the man as much as he can. At least until dinner, when they consume their food in the Captain’s cabin like every night and Steve sits at Billy’s side, waiting for Eddie and their ration. Billy smells the air and detects a stronger smell that he knows too well: blood. 

The alpha grabs the man’s wrist and drags him toward his bed, “Strip.” he orders, and he’s not surprised when the beta starts to protest, but the alpha’s grip is strong. “Don't fuss and strip.” He repeats.

“If you need to fuck someone to cool down the steam, Eddie’s just outside!” Steve snarls back, trying to free himself from the captain’s tight grip.

“You’re hurt. I can smell the blood.” Billy finally admits, “I just want to help you.”

“You are the one who is hurting me!” Steve protests, but for a moment Billy sees a flash of fear in the boy’s eyes so Billy assumes that he is scared that they will leave him on some desert island because he is injured. It won’t be a first, but Billy’s crew is his family and he is not the kind of pirate that would do something like that to one of his crew members.

[lightanddarknessdragonlord]

leave out all the rest

(if you don’t wanna read it on ao3 here it is!! obligatory tag @thedacoda for encouraging me to write more kaoru & just generally being the best brother i could ask for <3)

I don't really know what I expected. I'm used to this, aren’t I? I should be.

This is nothing new, not for me. But even still… I had hope in you. I placed my trust in you all, I knew it was a bad idea, and yet-!

All of you are leaving me behind.

You all knew. You knew about him and didn’t tell me?

(There’s nothing to tell.)

I suggested the idea of finding him, I MENTIONED it, because all of you are just too content to leave me out of everything, and what do I hear?!

“Kaoru?”

Don’t play dumb, Jaden, you know better than that.

“What are you saying, Kaoru?”

Alexis, don’t look at me like that. You’d do the same for Atticus.

“Listen to me, Kaoru, this isn’t a good idea.”

Atticus, don’t you dare pretend to care now!

“We’re all worried about you, sarge.”

Hassleberry, you don’t even know me well enough to care.

“This isn’t going to change anything, Yuna!”

Yeah, like you’d know anything about what it means to be a good younger brother, Syrus.

“What’s going through that thick skull of yours?”

Chazz… just… don’t.

It’s been hours now, and still, I can hear all of you, clear as day. Everything just ricochets in my brain, endlessly. All of you looked at me like I was out of my mind when I suggested it, and you tell me to calm down when I get rightfully angry?!

Shut up. Shut up, shut up shut up shut up shut up shut UP! All of you love to play the morality card, all of you love to be oh so higher-than-thou!

(Jaden is trying to relate to your pain. Alexis understands what you’re going through. Atticus wants to protect you. Hassleberry wants you to be safe, and so does Syrus. Chazz doesn’t want to lose you again. You know this.)

(Are you sure they’re the ones acting holier-than-thou?)

None of you understand. I know he’s there. I can see Honest in the corner of my vision. It’s in my dreams, it’s begging me to find him. I know it.

(Do you?)

I bolt upright, my breathing erratic as my eyes scan around the room for the familiar flash of golden wings. The alarm clock by my bed reads a number I don't want to see, definitely past midnight. My eyes scan the dark room, sweeping across from the window to the doorway.

It’s nowhere to be seen. 

(You’re imagining things, Kaoru.)

It’s not my first nightmare, and it won’t be my last. But this one feels so vivid, much more than any of my other dreams. I should wait until I’m calm in the morning, until I’m rational… I know I'm being unreasonable, and yet…

Akio is only a door away. It wouldn’t be the first time I've woken him up in the middle of the night. Yet… something is different tonight. There's an ache in my head that I don't think he can quell. I don’t know that I would want him to tell me any sweet lies so I can fall back asleep, anyways, not after the week I've had.

(You have a way of thinking the worst of everyone.)

I'm out of my bed before I can think any harder on it, my deck in hand and bobby pins in my pocket. I pause, however, when I feel one of the card spirits rousing. Light and Darkness Dragon… I'll keep you here in the room. You deserve to rest. I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do, Light, but I know you’ll learn to forgive me. Or, at least, I hope you will. If you’ll even remember you had a deck owner to begin with…

(Didn’t you say you’re tired of people abandoning you?)

The click of the dorm room behind me has me trembling, my blood roaring in my ears. I was once king of Ra Yellow, I’m an excellent duelist, I know I can think through stressful situations. I didn’t earn my place in Obelisk Blue with a pretty face and a boatload of money. I can stop, I can go back to bed, I can wait until the morning to talk about this with Akio. He wouldn’t lie to me, not like everyone else has… 

…

Or maybe he just wants me to think that. The idea has me pushing off down the hallway, headed to the upper level of the dormitory.

It’s only me and my thoughts as I make my way up the stairs. I don’t like being without Light if I can help it, my hand itching over my deck. They’re usually here with me, talking me out of my bad decisions and anger-induced plans for revenge. But I know they would never agree with me on this, so I have to do this alone.

(Is that true, or are you scared to admit that you’re wrong?)

I stop in front of Atticus’ dorm, reaching to grab the pins from earlier. I learned how to lockpick at North. More skills meant people would have more respect for you when you defeated them in duels, especially if you can lend a hand to a duelist who’s stronger than you. Obelisk Blue’s security is good, I’ll admit, but I’ve dealt with worse. It’s not too annoying to pick, but it’s not easy when I’m still barely awake.

I step into the room, cautious of any loud noises I might make. I know that Atticus isn’t a very heavy sleeper, he’s mentioned it more than a few times to me. There’s a part of me that’s yelling at me to stop, likely Light’s influence on me. And yet, I tread on.

Atticus, you forced my hand. You remembered him, you remembered him before I could, and yet you didn’t say a word to me? You know damn well how much Alexis worried over you, and when I go through what she did, you want me to stay behind?!

All of you… Atticus, Alexis, Jaden, Hassleberry, Syrus, Chazz…

All of you are cowards. All of you are pathetic, insincere little COWARDS. When it came to Jaden's friend, we all ran headfirst into the Dark World to find him. But when it comes to my own damn BROTHER, it’s suddenly “oh, we can’t tell him,” or “it would break him,” or “it’s for the best if he doesn’t know.”

You’re all terrified to admit the truth, and that is that you all would give me up in a heartbeat if it meant keeping the peace.

(They did it for your peace of mind. Shouldn’t you be glad that they care?)

I find Atticus’ deck easily, quickly rifling through the cards. It’s hard to see in the dim lighting of the dorm, but one of them has an unnatural coldness to it that can’t be shaken off by a mere card spirit. I draw the card from the deck, replacing the flap and putting the box back. Atticus does not rouse.

(There’s a better way to do this.)

I spare him only one glance before I'm out of his room. My hands shake as I hold onto the card so tightly it might crease, barely able to restrain myself from slamming the door.

I can hear Darkness calling me. It dawns on me now that I have barely any idea of what I’m doing, waking up moment by moment to my reality. I’m working off of a hunch, and no sleep, too.

The flash of golden wings in front of me snaps me from my anxious stupor, and my anger rises to drown out my caution.

Honest’s image flashes in my peripherals, and I waste no time in chasing after it. I must look deranged, running down the hallways, but I couldn’t care less about what people might think. It’s too late for anyone to be roaming the halls this late, either.

I know the path to the abandoned dorm well, having visited it many times after Alexis stopped keeping such strict watch of the place. I had always felt a call to it, but never knew how to answer it… not until now, with this card in hand. I know Light and Darkness Dragon would be absolutely beside themself if they could see me right now, but… I have to do this. They know that.

(Will you take a moment to just think?)

Honest is easier to see now, less blurry at the edges. I can’t help but find it familiar, the way it looks at me and ushers me forward. Searching for memories involving the card feels like searching for a decent card in the well on the other side of the school, or trying to find a limpid crystal in a pool of perfectly clear water. I can hear it say something about how it’s nice to know I’m alright, and that it’s good I got its message.

(It’s nice to see you too, Honest.)

I pay it no mind.

Darkness is louder now, laughing, praising, shouting, anything to get me to use the card. Honest does not react, only urging me to follow as it phases through the broken doors. It seems I’m the only one Darkness is trying to convince.

“Just a second,” I murmur, “you’ll get what you want in just a second.” I don’t know which of the cards I’m talking to.

(You won’t even try to think this through?)

It’s kind of pathetic, how little effort there is to keep students out. It’s far too easy to slip under the ‘keep out’ sign, and the doors are hardly a barrier. Without a moon to shine tonight, it’s almost pitch black in the dormitory proper.

(That’s a sign that you should be back in your own dorm.)

“Starliege,” I whisper, drawing the card from my deck. The spirit responds by flying beside me with a trill, although it seems to quiet once it realizes where we are. It perches on my shoulder, warily glancing at the rest of the dorm. Even with the glow from the dragon, it’s still too dim… there’s a small radius of light from where the spirit is residing, but not much farther than my own feet.

(You’re better than this.)

“Starliege.” I'm not asking. It shuffles awkwardly on my shoulder, before its light grows and illuminates about half of the room we’re in. “Thank you,” I huff, backing away from the corner of a sinkhole I nearly fell into.

(It didn’t do anything to earn you being so rude.)

This place is in desperate need of some repairs, but that’s not my job. Cobwebs dangle from the ceiling, ruined paintings and photos on the walls being the only hint that students once lived here. The rooms look eerily similar to the Obelisk dorms, so the only striking difference is the door that leads down to the basement.

The stairs are precarious, dead wood railings having rotted away and leaving a stench in the air. Starliege shuffles again on my shoulder, trilling something that sounds like unease, but I press on. Honest keeps trying to get me to talk, but nothing leaves me.

(You used to care so much about what your dragons said. Light would never approve.)

Darkness is still attempting to coax me into using the card, dark tendrils of shadow wrapping around my wrist now. It stills when I reach the bottom of the stairs, frozen in time.

Just as I thought… This looks like his handiwork, alright.

(How do you know?)

This place has been cleared out, most of the rock carved out to create an indent in the floor. There are lines and divots everywhere, some kind of pattern I can’t decipher. I swear I’ve seen this before, though, in the same way I recognize Honest.

(Are you sure that you do?)

(shut up.)

There’s not a moment to lose. I have no reservations, hopping down the craggy rock and into the center of the floor. However, I'm still groggy from barely waking up, moreso falling into the crevasse. My landing isn’t perfect, my hand catching on a particularly sharp stone as I fall… Tch. I get back to my feet without much complaint.

Starliege wants to clean the wound, but I keep my hand away. It doesn’t need to be fretting over me when I'm about to make it wonder why it’s even here. It stays on my shoulder nonetheless, curling into my hair and hiding from the shadows that tower over us.

“Darkness.” I lift the card up to my eye level, shivering at the temperature drop in the room. Below me, the carved grooves in the floor seem to grow deeper, darker, almost as if they’re eagerly awaiting something to fill the thin canals. The tendrils stretch forward, Darkness emboldened by my attempt to command it. They wrap around my arm and around my shoulder, sinking beneath my skin, into my veins... there’s a laugh reverberating somewhere, either in my ears or in my skull.

With the sudden dip in temperature, it’s hard for me to look back. Honest is seemingly trying to call for me, but I can’t hear. Typical. It doesn’t seem like Darkness is keen on letting it interfere with our little meeting.

It’s freezing as the shadows encase my upper back, so cold that Starliege is forced to dart away and leave me in the darkness that overwhelms my vision, flying towards Honest. It trills out for me, a call I was once familiar with, one that used to make my heart race in the heat of a duel. I don't move.

I can’t hear anything but the beating of my heart, fear forcing me stock-still. There it is, the panic, the kind that makes you freeze and wonder if you’ll die. I’ve felt it enough to be familiar in the chaos. I swallow thickly as I try to find the words to speak, feeling frozen in place. 

“No.” I am not here to be puppeteered or manipulated, not again. Darkness seems to sense my resolve, the shadows pooling by my ankles as they roll off my back. It’s still oppressively cold, but a little easier to breathe.

(Are you alright?)

Starliege does not fly back to me. That's alright. That will make things easier.

(This isn’t like you.)

(shut up.)

“Darkness, I know you’re here.”

My voice is raspy and hoarse from just being woken up, but it’s loud enough to echo in this cavern. “Take me to him.”

(You can barely fight against Darkness. Why do you-?)

(i said, shut up!)

(…)

(…that’s what i thought.)

Honest flickers in the corner of my vision, attempting to get my attention again. I pay it no mind.

“Why should I, duelist?”

The shadows dance across my vision, making me wonder if I’m really seeing anything at all. It’s the same whether I close my eyes or keep them open. The sting in my hand from the rapid drop in temperature doesn’t help.

“I know your secret, Darkness. I know you can be defeated, just like how Jaden defeated the Light.”

“My enemy’s weaknesses do not constitute my own.”

The shadows are growing bold again, reaching up my pant legs, wrapping around my calves-

“You wouldn’t be so afraid if I was lying.”

The shadows seem to stop twisting for a moment, seemingly ruminating over my words, then pull me down to my knees. I can’t maintain my balance, landing oddly on my elbows with a grunt. Honest tries to move closer, but I can’t see it.

“You know not of what forces you seek to rule, Yuna. Your predecessor knew, and for that, he lives happily. You, however-”

“You don’t know anything about what I want.”

Even Darkness thinks it knows what I want?! It’s sickening how much all of you try to know me, to know what I want, or what’s best for me. If I wasn’t seeing pitch-black darkness in front of me, I’d be seeing red.

Enraged, I find myself lashing out whatever way I can, my anger overwhelming my fear once more. My injured hand slams down into the floor, landing right on one of the sigils that line the floor. I can feel the sting from the earlier cut, no doubt bleeding and smearing into the crevice. The sigil lights up, soft white light flowing into the rifts between the symbols and illuminating them. This must be how he did it…

“Your goal is not the same as his. He rescinded all his bonds. You cling to them.”

Darkness seems to grow louder as the sigils light up, but I pay it no mind. It’s only a stepping stone to get me what I want.

All the air gets knocked from me within the next moment, my body trembling. The shiver that runs down my spine isn’t from the lack of warmth, however; it’s from a voice that calls out to me, oh so familiar…

“Yuna?”

“Kaoru?”

(Who is it that you hear?)

(didn’t i tell you to shut up?)

There's some kind of commotion behind me, Darkness’ hold on me wavering. The voices are so familiar… The roar that reverberates nearly makes me fall over, but I stay on the floor.

Light and Darkness Dragon… They probably woke Akio and brought him here to find me, but it doesn’t matter. He’s alive. Everything they tried to hide from me, the reason they’re so adamant on leaving me behind… He’s here.

(brother, it’s been so long!)

The dorm around me seems to glow brighter, Darkness’ hold seeming to slip away. I can see now, but I don’t attempt to turn back.

“It seems I underestimated you,” it says, but there’s no real change in the monotone quality of its voice. “Such a shame that I could not claim your Light and Darkness Dragon.”

Normally, a sleight against Light would have me in a frenzy. But as the dorm glows brighter, rivaling the light Starliege emitted, I feel oddly… indifferent.

Akio yells behind me, trying to rush forwards. Light joins him, with Honest and Starliege being the quickest.

I can feel them right behind me, how Light’s claws graze my back, how Honest tries to grab at my hand, how Starliege trills out for me once again—

(finally, i know why.)

(it’s so bright here, so cold, so… clear.)

“Kaoru? Is that you?”

It’s bright white. The skies are cloudless, the winds are harsh, and the snow(? Sand?) blinds me.

“Yusuke… I’m finally here.”

—————————————————————

A few students who stayed up past curfew noted seeing an odd light inside of the abandoned dorm, but nothing came of it. No one dared enter, either way, not after rumors of some kind of malevolent spirit haunting the place.

No one had spotted the duelists that ran in, nor the single one that exited, leaving with three new cards in hand. Odd, Akio didn’t run a dragon deck… so why was it that he had Starliege Seyfert, and Light and Darkness Dragon? Honest didn’t fit in his strategy, either…

“Young master, it’s late. We’re no good if we’re frazzled.”

Visas Starfrost’s voice cut through the quiet night, walking besides his duelist. His fuschia eyes narrowed as he watched Akio, the student mumbling under his breath.

“Light and Darkness Dragon… Starliege Seyfert… Honest…” Three cards, all so familiar, and yet, so new.

“Akio.” Visas insists once more, the card spirit reaching a hand out to stop his duelist’s rambling.

“Visas, what’s… why… where did…?” The student looked between his spirit partner and the three cards, the fatigue and lack of sleep catching up with him.

“We can think about this when we return to the dorm.” Visas urges, ushering Akio inside once more.

No one could seem to remember who had owned the other bed in Akio’s room, nor why he was so adamant on rooming alone. Visas, when pressed by the few people who could see the spirit, simply said that the young master preferred his solitude.

Atticus felt some kind of unease, but nothing that could not be soothed by Alexis. Hassleberry and Syrus continued their constant bickering, Chazz occasionally joining to distract himself from the odd feelings of emptiness that sometimes came and went. Jaden was focused on trying to cohabitate with Yubel, especially with supernatural incidents continuing to occur around the school.

As the days passed, the general unease seemed to overtake the students once more. Students would come into the infirmary reporting of nightmares, all different, but sharing one theme: telling them to go to the abandoned dorm’s basement. These rumors passed around, with nearly every student in Obelisk Blue experiencing some variation of it. (Everyone in Ra simply thought it was some kind of cognitive bias.) One student suffered the worst from these dreams, in fact, he said he had the worst experience of them all.

Visas would find Akio shaking in the middle of the night, the duelist trembling like a leaf. What seemed like a flash of golden wings accompanied it, but no other person had entered the dorm in some time.

“Young master? Is something the matter?” He asked, trying to comfort the student.

In response, Akio would simply look his card in the eye, dark brown meeting searing fuschia.

“…who’s Kaoru?”

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Scarlet

Summary: Diluc has a nightmare and runs off without a weapon. Kaeya makes sure he survives the night

CW: Violence, platonic cuddling, nightmares, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1620

Requests are OPEN

Scarlet. The color, in all its myriad of shades, is all Diluc can see.

The color of his father’s hair and the blood soaking through their own clothes as the light faded from his eyes. Blood leaking from various wounds as he and Kaeya clash blades. The intense, searing shade of fire burning enemy after enemy to ash,. Image after image, nothing but scarlet.

With the color comes voices.

You should have saved me.

Please, D. Why can’t you understand? I didn’t have a choice.

Murderer. Assassin. 

Unforgivable.

And through it all – the blood and the flame, the voices that he can’t ever escape--the scent of blood and death surrounds him,  reminding him that nothing can wash away the past.

Diluc falls to his knees, face held in bloody palms. Please, please. Just leave me alone. I’m doing my best. I don’t know what else to do.

The barrage of sensations and Diluc’s pleading seems to go on forever and yet for no time at all before his body jerks and his eyes fly open.

Diluc freezes for a moment, eyes scanning his surroundings.

There is nothing. No fire. No blood. Only a quiet room, the whisper of wind outside his window, and cold sweat trickling down his back.

The red-head rolls out of bed, pulling his damp hair out of his face before donning a pair of pants and a shirt.

He reaches for his vision and claymore, but the image of Kaeya’s fear and too many bodies turned to ash stills his hand.

As much as it goes against years of training and habit, he just can’t do it. Not tonight. 

Instead he turns away. 

Diluc pushes his window open and jumps out, landing with a soft thud. The last thing he wants to do is alert Adelinde to his admittedly less-than-wise midnight excursion.

Of all things Kaeya expected to see on a late night patrol (read: another bout of insomnia that he wasn’t going to bother Albedo with), Diluc running away from a mob of hilichurls was not one of them.

Kaeya pinches his arm, wincing at the bite of his nails digging into skin.

No. Now sure that his eyes aren’t playing tricks and that this isn’t some sort of insomnia induced hallucination, Kaeya breaks into a run.

While he hesitated, Diluc stumbled several times, giving the mob a chance to close the gap between them and the red-head.

When Kaeya is a few yards closer, his heart leaps into his throat. Diluc, the ever cautious guardian of Mondstadt, is unarmed.

Kaeya pushes himself faster, trying not to trip over the dimly lit terrain.

If he doesn’t get there in time – the image of Diluc cradling Crepus’s lifeless body flashes through his mind.

No, no, no, no. I can’t lose another family member. Not like this.

As soon as Kaeya’s in range, he throws himself in between Diluc and the hilichurls, taking a flaming club to the chest.

Kaeya’s vision flares white and he summons his sword as his rational mind catches up with his panic.

The ground at the knight’s feet frosts over, a half dozen ice shards impaling the smaller monsters.

Before he can shift his focus and bring his blade up to parry, a mitachurl ax comes swinging down.

But the blow never comes, instead Diluc shoves him to the side, taking a glancing blow to his leg.

Even in the light of a waning moon, Kaeya can clearly see Diluc’s blood staining the frosted earth scarlet.

Kaeya’s world goes white, a blizzard like none he’s ever tried to call engulfing them both. It’s all he can do to cover Diluc’s body with his own, protecting his brother with everything he has.

When the blizzard fades, summer has turned to winter and the remaining hilichurls have frozen, while a pale shield covers the two men.

Kaeya shivers, but shoves the cold aside. He pulls off his cape, ripping it to shreds and binding Diluc’s leg. Despite not taking the blow full on, the wound still bleeds profusely, and it isn’t the only injury the older man has.

“Kae…? Why did….?”

Kaeya finishes tying the makeshift bandage, only to find Diluc staring at him with a dazed look.

Kaeya hurries to stand, maneuvering Diluc so that he’s half riding piggy-back.

“Why did you have to get so big, you bastard?” Kaeya hisses, before starting towards the few lights that still shine in Mondstadt.

The knight curses when the only response he receives is a muffled groan.

The journey is slow. Slower than any Kaeya has undertaken. He talks to Diluc under his breath, promising that they’d be back soon, that everything was going to be alright, all the while praying to each of the Seven that fate would not make a liar out of him.

Eventually the pair makes it to the front gates. 

The gate guards start to salute, only to rush to the pair’s side. “Sir Kaeya, Master Diluc!”

Kaeya jerks his head towards the cathedral. “Go. Bring Barbara to my house.”

“But sir---”

“No buts. I need to take D home.”

Lawrence and Swan share a look, but quickly realizes first,  that the Cavalry Captain is a bit delirious himself and second, is not going to budge on the issue.

Lawrence races off, while Swan gives Kaeya a concerned look. “Are you sure you can make it there?”

“I have to get Diluc home. I can’t lose him. Can’t let him leave.”

Swan shuts his mouth, swearing that no one is ever going to hear what Kaeya is saying to him.

“Be safe, sir. I can’t leave my post.”

“No, no. I have to do this myself. Can’t leave him.”

Swan waves him by, hoping that another knight finds him before he collapses. 

As it turns out, it isn’t a knight that finds Diluc and Kaeya, but Rosaria.

She scowls at the pair, but sighs. “I assume you want to go back to your house.”

Kaeya nods.

“Give him here. You’re not going to make it at this rate.”

“But--”

“No buts.”

Kaeya relents, finally, letting Rosaria shoulder his burden.

She takes a few steps before looking back at her fellow cryo user. “Well? Are you coming?”

Diluc floats in a sort of limbo. As usual, he finds him surrounded by red. This time however, the scarlet hue is comforting.

It’s the warmth of home, his father’s beard framing a bright smile--one he used to share.

It is the fire in winter and the flames of protection, the scarlet that framed his youth. Nowhere is blood to be seen.

Diluc slowly comes to, blinking to clear his vision.

Before he can gain his bearings, a fist slams into his jaw from an awkward angle.

The pain draws him out of sleep fully and the first thing he sees is Kaeya’s face and the fire in his good eye.

Kaeya grips his shoulders, shaking gently. “What in Barbatos' name possessed you to leave in the middle of the night completely unarmed.”

“I---”

“You could have been killed, D! Then what would people have done? What about Adelinde? What about me?”

Diluc freezes the nightmares from before haunting once again. But he can’t find it in him to deflect.

“I couldn’t stay at the Winery, but…”

“But? I need a damn good reason, D.”

“I couldn’t take up the weapon and vision that nearly killed you. That couldn’t save Father. I can’t escape the anger and hate. Or the guilt. I wasn’t intending on fighting, but---”

“You were stupid enough to go out, knowing that the knights can’t take care of everything. Varka could have left some more knights behind, but that doesn’t excuse recklessness.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“At least I brought something to stab someone with.”

Kaeya leans forward and wraps his arms around his brother.  For the first time, Diluc notices the bandages wrapping Kaeya’s chest. Notices the red stain seeping 

“You got hurt protecting me. You’re bleeding because of me. Again.”

“I won’t say you’re wrong, but I’d also be dead if not for you, so I think we’re even.”

“You got hurt because of me.”

Kaeya watches Diluc’s pupils shrink and his breathing quicken. He rests a cool hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“I don’t care about that, Diluc. You’re safe. You’re home. You didn’t leave me. I can’t lose another family member.”

That snaps Diluc out of his panic. “You…think we’re family?”

“You’re all I’ve got left. My father left me. Crepus is long dead. You don’t like me much, but at least you’re still here. I can still watch your back.”

Kaeya lays back, sighing in exhaustion. “I had shit timing and I’m not the most honest of people. But I swear, I never wanted to betray you. I just wanted to live happily with you and our father. You gave me a home and I never stopped feeling guilty.

Diluc lays back next to him, startled when Kaeya curls up next to him the way they used to, before their life went to hell. He closes his eyes and lets the knight settle, feeling, somehow, that the younger man had likely not slept since they were injured.

“Get some rest, Kae. We’re going to have to talk about this later.”

Kaeya nods. “”Bedo said if we didn’t he was going to rope us into six months worth of assistant duty and that he was going to help mediate. Says he’s not going to let me be miserable because we have bad communication skills.”

Diluc chuckles. “Trust Albedo to not beat around the bush.”

Kaeya’s presence and even breathing quickly lulls him to sleep. This time, there is no scarlet. This time, he finds peace. 

[writingomegas]

So because of @animeomegas writing some soft Dabi, I have some slight brain rot. So here are some snippets of a bunch of different prompts that I got from this generator. I might expand some of them later, but no promises <3

GN!Reader who's also in the LOV and who is very lovesick and chaotic

CW: lots of cursing, one on two innuendos, one slightly angsty prompt where you imply you and Dabi are gonna kill someone but that's to be expected

Alpha breaking into Dabi's room through their window.

Dabi loved you. Did he admit that as often as he probably should? No, but he still did. However, that didn't mean he didn't also think you were the strangest person on the planet.

"Why are you coming through my window? I have a semi-functional door right there." He gestures over to the busted door that Kurogiri had yet to fix.

"I was on the roof. Easier to just come in this way." You shimmy your way through the window and grin when you make it through.

"Why were you on the roof? It's 11 am, people can see you."

"Nobody ever looks up. And I was bird-watching."

He looks at you incredulously. "Is that code that you were looking for Hawks?"

"No. I was actually bird-watching."

"...That's it, I want a refund."

"You can't return me, asshole."

Alpha traveling long distances just to see Dabi.

"I'm back!" You yell, running into his bedroom with a stupid grin.

"...Weren't you in America like an hour ago?"

"Irrelevant, I missed you." You hug him closely and pepper kisses on his face.

"How the fuck did you get back so fast?" He pushes your face away from his.

"The power of love."

"That's bullshit and you know it. You can't break reality and claim love let you do it."

Dabi and Alpha remembering their first kiss… and they have very different takes on it.

"It was our first mission together. We were arguing about what we should be doing, and next thing I know he was kissing me."

"It was a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing."

"It's the hottest thing he's ever done."

"I was threatening to kill them before we did it."

"That made it hotter."

"It was a mistake. They never left me alone after that."

"Aw, love you too."

Dabi gets into a heated argument with someone. Dabi begins threatening them, so Alpha picks up Dabi and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.

Sometimes Dabi and Shigaraki can get a little heated. Literally, in this instance. You can practically feel the heat radiating from your boyfriend across the room and you know he's seconds away from blowing his fuse.

So, you do what you would rationally do in this situation.

When you lift Dabi into you arms, he freezes and you can practically see the gears working in his brain to understand what's happening. You pay him no mind and continue to walk to your shared bedroom.

"Wh- put me down, asshole!"

"Nope."

"Fuck you."

"I mean, if that's what you want."

Dabi hogs all the blankets and Alpha gets cold so they cling tightly to Dabi for warmth.

"You are a walking furnace, why the fuck do you need this many blankets?" you yell in frustration, desperately trying to untangle one from the horde that Dabi has collected.

Wrapped snuggly in his favorite blanket, he flashes you a shit-eating grin. "I still get cold. You don't want me to suffer, do you?"

"I call fucking bullshit. You push me off the bed because being near me is too hot for you."

"I have never done that. I am innocent."

"You're a lot of things, but innocent ain't one."

You finally manage to wiggle one blanket free, but before you even realize what's happening, Dabi manages to snatch it back and add it back into the horde.

You growl in frustration and try again.

Alpha holding Dabi's hands when they are shaking.

Your hands encase his and you meet his eyes.

"Deep breaths."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep, shaky breath. When he opens them again, rage still burns like a forest fire.

"I want him dead. He fucking deserves it."

"I know, and I agree. But you can't let him get in your head like this."

"I don't want to care so much." His twisted expression makes it clear to you the internal battle he's fighting.

"He hurt you. It's natural that you care. But I promise you, we'll put him in the fucking ground."

He chuckles humorlessly and he almost smiles. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Dabi having to comfort Alpha because Alpha just encountered a very large, unpleasant bug outside that scared them.

He was trying so hard not to laugh, but you could tell he's barely holding it in. He pats your back with his fist covering his growing smile.

"There there, it's okay."

You pout and glare at him. "It was a huntsman spider! It was fucking massive!"

His loose hold on his self-control is broken with your comment, and he bursts out laughing.

"Y/N, feared villain across the whole of Japan, spooked by a bug."

"You're a fucking asshole."

"Yeah, but you love it," he grins.