#you don’t really see either of their faces and yet they are just exuding expression and emotion

[voxofthevoid]

Now that the Amnesia Fic is over (only took 14 chapters and 72k words *sobs*), we're moving on to my next set of word crimes—fondly but unofficially titled the Double-Dong Dickfest.

Yes, really.

Age reversal (but no role reversal) with 15-year-old Gojou and 29-year-old Yuuji set in canonverse. This was meant to be just a oneshot featuring dubcon public sex of the chikan variety, but then the outline escalated into an 8-chapter porn fest where Gojou gets wrecked seven ways to Sunday. For once, nothing is @nearalways' fault; teen!Gojou animated just...inspired me too much.

Let Dickfest Wednesdays commece! Since the first chapter is just a setting-establishing prologue, there's a total of 0 dicks in the excerpt below.

"Nobody sane would want to walk around in this heat.”

Yuuji grimaces. “That’s fair. The summers are getting worse every year, huh?”

“You don’t get to talk,” Satoru says, eyeing him up and down. “What’s with that outfit anyway? You tryna look cool or something?”

Yuuji looks down at himself. It’s not a particularly outlandish outfit by sorcerer standards; it’s pretty simple even—a hooded, full-sleeved jacket and thick pants, all a deep, gleaming black. In literally any other weather, Satoru wouldn’t bat an eye, but this July has been scorching. Satoru’s sweating through his summer uniform, and he can’t even look at Yuuji without feeling five degrees hotter.

“Is it working?” Yuuji asks.

“You’re too old to be cool.”

“Ouch,” Yuuji intones, even clutching his heart. “I’m not even thirty yet. But I guess twenty-nine would feel ancient to a kid your age.”

“Don’t call me a kid!” Satoru wants to throw something else at Yuuji, even knowing it’d be pointless. “And you’re missing my point!”

“Oh, you had one?” The teasing is mild, Yuuji smiling like he’s inviting Satoru to laugh with him. Even the thick scars cutting across his eyebrow and mouth don’t detract from the sheer niceness he exudes.

Satoru’s tempted to scoot away, half afraid it’ll spread like some contagion, but they’re already on the far edges of the park bench. Alright, maybe Satoru’s taking up most of it, but he’s a big guy. Yuuji’s not small either, six feet tall and obscenely broad, but somehow, he doesn’t take up much space.

“Satoru-kun?”

Satoru drags his eyes up from Yuuji’s thick thighs, running right into two sets of warm brown eyes. It’s still a little weird to look at someone’s face and find double the expected number of eyes, but it’s an interesting kind of weird. And Satoru definitely prefers this to the way Yuuji closes the lower two when they’re with other people. They might look like just weird scars to non-sorcerers, but Satoru’s own eyes are metaphorically triple the usual number, and all four of Yuuji’s eyes are violently visible to him even when he’s playing at normal. It’s much better to just see all four open instead of watching the second set swim under Yuuji’s skin.

As if sensing this thoughts, Yuuji’s eyes narrow into a frown, concern creeping across his expression.

“What?” Satoru asks a little belatedly.

“You were saying something,” Yuuji prods.

What was he—

“Oh, right, the assistant managers. Fushiguro Tsumiki isn’t the only one, and you still haven’t told me why we can’t just call someone else.”

“So spoiled,” Yuuji repeats with a sigh, but before Satoru can protest, he adds, “You already know why. They’re scared. Tsumiki-san is the only one who doesn’t mind working with me. I have Megumi to thank for that.”

“The hell does the Zen'in head have to do with any of this?”

“Tsumiki-san is Megumi’s sister.”

Satoru takes a moment to mentally compare the two. He doesn’t know Fushiguro all that well, but she’s sweet-faced and mild-mannered; Zen'in Megumi is anything but.

Well, whatever.

“You’re wrong,” he tells Yuuji.

“That so?” Yuuji asks, and Satoru really doesn’t like how indulgent he’s acting, from the pretty little smile on his lips to the way he tilts his whole body toward Satoru, but none of it feels mean or mocking. It never does with Yuuji. “What am I wrong about, Satoru-kun?”

Satoru leans into Yuuji’s space, staring right into those four glimmering eyes. “She ain’t the only who’s not scared of you. I’m not. I don’t give a fuck that you were Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel. That guy’s ancient history, and you chewed him up anyway. Who the fuck cares?”

It’s subtle but there, the slightest widening of Yuuji’s eyes. Satoru grins, victory sweet between his teeth.

“Thank you,” Yuuji says. “I appreciate that.”

Satoru’s grin sputters and dies. “What the—no! It’s not a compliment! I’m trying to—”

“But isn’t it a little too early to decide?”

“Huh?”

“You barely know me,” Yuuji points out placidly. His face is still very close, and Satoru’s sunglasses have slid down to his nose, leaving him exposed to every minute shudder and shift of the muscles on Yuuji’s face as those lips curve into a crooked smile. “What will you do if it turns out I’m a monster after all?”

“You?” Satoru laughs; it comes out a little too breathless. “I’ve met puppies more evil than you.”

Yuuji’s smile widens, exposing a gleaming line of pearl-white teeth. His canines look unusually sharp.

“That’s sweet, Satoru-kun,” he says. “I hope you won’t change your mind. They all do eventually, even cocky ones like you, but I guess it’d be nice if you didn’t. You’re a fun kid.”

Satoru hisses at him. “Stop calling me a—”

Cold metal cuts him off, Yuuji pressing his can of soda to Satoru’s mouth. He rears back, condensation smeared on his lips.

“You can have that,” Yuuji says before Satoru can start cursing him out.

Satoru wraps his hand around the can; it’s nearly three-quarters full. “It’s yours though.”

“I’m good. You’re all red—cool down a little. It’s a long walk to the station.”

“I’ll be fine,” Satoru says, thrusting the can at Yuuji. “Just drink it. I hate martyrs.”

Yuuji sighs, his whole body drooping. “You’re impossible to please. I’m not being a martyr. You asked why I dress like this. I run cold. The heat doesn’t get to me as much. Will you drink it now?”

Satoru narrows his eyes at Yuuji, the can still held out. But the pleasant chill of the metal against his palm is kind of making his throat ache.

It is hot, and he is very thirsty.

Yuuji’s expression softens. He wraps a hand around Satoru’s wrist, using it as a handle to raise the can to his own mouth. He takes a small, wet sip.

Satoru’s throat clicks around a swallow.

“There,” Yuuji announces, licking his lips and letting go of Satoru’s hand. The skin he touched burns, even though Yuuji was right—his skin is much cooler than Satoru’s. “Finish the rest. That’s fine, right?”

Satoru wordlessly brings the can to his mouth, downing its contents in a single, shuddering gulp.

Yuuji’s approval simmers in the air—the ferocious focus of those four eyes branding Satoru.

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

One of a threesome. Your boyfriend, Yoongi, proposed you to have sex with Taehyung because he's kinda into voyeurism. However during that he gets turn on so much that he couldn't resist to join Tae and you

Taehyung hadn't stopped flirting with you. It was a joke at first, what with teasing Yoongi for landing such a hottie and trying to supposedly change your mind about who you should date while it was still early. But he never stopped. And it only got more serious over time. You think that had something to do with that one time you stayed over at the dorms; maybe you had been a little too loud and the younger boy that slept next door heard you. Or maybe it had something to do with how in love with you Yoongi had become and he couldn't stop talking about you and praising you –the best girlfriend ever– while you weren't there. Whatever it was, it had Taehyung hitting on you while your boyfriend was sat right next to you, and you didn't know what to do about it.

"Why don't you say something to him? Do you not care?" you were asking Yoongi since he seemed so unbothered.

He just shrugged his shoulders. "I don't. Does he bother you? Then sure, I'll tell him to stop. But if you like the attention, I don't mind."

You wouldn't lie; you certainly didn't mind the attention. The only bad thing about it was how well his compliments seemed to get to you and you had to hide the fact that the other member was making you flustered. You didn't want to make your boyfriend jealous, but truth be told, you didn't want Taehyung to stop either. You had two gorgeous men drooling over you– in what world would that bother you?

You were surprised at how nonchalant Yoongi was, and it turned you on a bit. It exuded confidence and trust. "As long as you're fine with it, I'm fine with it," you told him.

And your boyfriend leaned in really close to whisper in your ear. "Can I confess something?" The words sent shivers down your spine and you didn't even know what he would say yet– just assumed. "It kinda turns me on when I see you flirting with other men. There's something about the thought of you being so hot that everyone wants you, as well as the fact that at the end of the day you're mine. I like seeing Taehyung trying to fuck you."

You would have never guessed a man could be turned on by something like that, had been used to a rather jealous and possessive behavior. But hearing Yoongi admit his little fetish made you suddenly realize how much you liked it too. And the next time Taehyung started giving you his flirty attitude, you didn't hesitate to match his energy. He was taken a bit aback, looking over at your boyfriend just to check if this was allowed, and then happily back at you. The flirting got worse and worse, more boundaries being crossed as you saw how much Yoongi loved it. Until one night, you had been out and dancing with Taehyung more than your own boyfriend, the alcohol making you feel warm, grinding upon him till you could feel his hard-on. Till he got whiny in your ear, hands clutching your waist tightly.

"Hyung!" he groaned to Yoongi once he sat back down next to him. "What is this? Are you two messing with me?"

Yoongi was still so collected. "Why would you say that?"

"Because your girlfriend is rubbing her ass all over me like she's about to fuck me!" he spoke in one breath. "But I know she won't."

And you could see the corner of Yoongi's lips being tugged into a lopsided smile. "Do you want her to fuck you?"

And that was kind of how all three of you ended up back at Yoongi's place. You, kissing the younger boy's neck and making him moan while he was still watching his hyung, still too scared to touch you properly. You had already taken your clothes off while he had his on and you were trying to pull his shirt over his head hastily while Yoongi found a chair to sit back and enjoy the show.

"Baby, you should suck his dick. Show him how good you are," you heard the deep voice of your boyfriend and immediately got on your knees. Unzipped Taehyung's pants and palmed him through his underwear, making him groan.

The boy finally looked at you, finally comfortable enough to focus on fucking you instead of Yoongi watching him. And he grabbed a fistful of your hair to guide your mouth over his dick, moaning hard when he felt the warmth.

"Fuck, so good," he spat, letting you bop your head up and down in the exact way you knew Yoongi loved.

"Wait till you feel how good her pussy is," the other man spoke, voice breathy. You recognized that voice as a Yoongi beyond turned on, probably feeling himself up as well. He had his eyes on Taehyung however. On his face... The boy was so expressive, constantly making a new grimace like a born actor, and it all displayed just how good you were with your mouth. Taehyung's face told Yoongi all he needed to know about how hot it was to be fucking you.

"Shit," the boy gasped and he was pulling your head off him fast, clearly in danger of cumming too early for the night. "Get on the bed, sweetie, let me reciprocate the favor."

"No," Yoongi was saying before you could obey. "Just fuck her." Because you didn't need anyone else eating your pussy, you had the best man for that already.

Taehyung whined a bit, afraid he wouldn't last, but following Yoongi's rules was the least he could do for being allowed to be there. So he crawled over you, discarding his clothes completely, and lined himself up with your entrance. He was bigger than your boyfriend, and although you were scared that would make him feel jealous, it seemed to be quite the opposite. Yoongi was moaning along with you when Taehyung slipped inside, stretching you out properly. And he had his dick in his hand by the time you were screaming at the way the other boy was thrusting hard and deep.

"How's that, baby?" he asked you. "You like taking Taehyung's big cock?" Both Taehyung and you were groaning at Yoongi's words, him fucking you faster as you dug your nails in his back. "Such a little slut, letting just anyone use your pussy like that."

You felt your orgasm building up quickly inside you, the stretch of the handsome boy over you along with your boyfriend's dirty tongue making you shake a bit. Whine. "Yoongi..."

And then you heard him cuss and get up. Taehyung stopped his attack on you, fearing he was about to be in trouble. But the older man came to the two of you on the bed, grabbing your hair you turn you to face him. "I'm right here, baby," he whispered, leaning down to kiss your lips. And you felt Taehyung slowly start moving again. "Did you miss me, baby? Want to take me in your mouth while Taehyung makes you cum on his dick?"

"Shit!" the other boy gasped, seeming to like the idea more than you. His thrusts were getting sloppy, grunts coming through his gritted teeth with each labored breath.

"Yes, Yoongi, please," you moaned. And he gave you his dick just as promised, thrusting into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. And you were so full. Fucked and gagged and teary-eyed as your orgasm found you out of nowhere, punching you hard in the gut and pulling a muffled scream out of you, vibrating on Yoongi's cock. And when Taehyung saw how your eyes rolled to the back of your head, drool slipping down your chin as your throat continued to be used by your boyfriend, pussy clenching around him and gushing its juices out, he couldn't help back follow suit. Seed spilling straight into you.

Your boyfriend was then pulling his dick out of your mouth and clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "You both came already? What will I do now with you two needy, little sluts? The fun of the night only just began."

Masterlist

[summonerscenarios]

I just started Housamo recently and I've fallen in love with the characters! So you can imagine how thrilled I am to see someone is writing phenomenal headcanons and scenarios for them~. To that end, I'd like to request a scenario: Shiro and Toji (sperately) where they hear a loud CRACK, and when they turn around, they see a dent in the wall and the MC shaking out their hand. And the MC just blankly stares down at their hand and says "Oh, sorry, I just wanted to make sure I was still...here"

Heyya glad to hear that you're having fun with the game!! And dfghjhgf thank you so much I'm honestly chuffed to think that anyone considers them phenomenal dfgfd

some good ol comfort is certainly needed and I am happy to provide~!

--------

Shiro

Staying behind to clean up classrooms wasn’t your idea of an exciting evening, and really, if you could have, you probably wouldn’t even be here in the first place. Had anyone other than Shiro asked you to stay behind and help you might have said no, but when the bespeckled right-hand man of your guild had asked you for your help cleaning things up you were embarrassed at how fast you’d jumped to agree.

It had taken longer than either of you had anticipated; the sun is starting to wane on the horizon by the time the last of the cleanup is finished, casting the classroom in a deep orange tinge that sweeps across the room with its dull glow. You’d taken the initiative to help him carry the supplies back to the storage room, though you find yourself distracted as you trail just behind him, only half listening to his muted chatter till you reach your destination. Shiro doesn’t notice that your thoughts are elsewhere as he disappears into the storeroom, unaware that your footsteps have slowed down to a crawl, eventually coming to a half and falling behind entirely.

Shiro lets out a relieved sigh as he finishes stashing away the last of the cleaning equipment, tucking a few remaining cloths into their respective places as he turns around to address you.

“There we go. Thanks again for staying behind to help me out with…huh?” He’s greeted by an empty doorway and quickly grows confused when he doesn’t spot you in the immediate vicinity. He swears you were just behind him a second ago…

CRACK-!

The sudden noise is sharp, making Shiro jump clearly startled by the thud, and he darts out of the storeroom looking around for the source of the noise. He doesn’t need to go far, and looking to his right Shiro finds you static to the side of the hallway a few paces away from where you’d stopped. You’re shaking out your hand, though you don’t even spare it a glance as you stare off to the side, clearly lost in your thoughts.

“H-Hey, is everything okay!?” The question comes out on instinct, but it gains your attention.

At that, your eyes flicker to face Shiro, and for the first time he notices that they’re unfocused as though you’re physically present but somewhere else mentally. For a split second it’s as though you’re looking straight through him, and there’s an unconscious chill that shoots down his spine as how distant your expression is, a far cry from the usual vibrancy that you exude.

Then just like that you’re back, blinking as though you’re seeing your companion for the first time before a smile crosses your face. “Oh. Sorry, Shiro, just wanted to make sure I was…” you trail off, smile faltering in the wake of weighing the thoughts in your head for the right word, finishing with a quiet “here…I guess.”

There’s no hiding his concern. Shiro’s never been one who’s been able to mask how he worries over you and your safety; yet there’s something about this compared to the other times that’s different. Before, he was just worried about you running off into danger, about your physical wellbeing; this time the issue is something below the surface, something you haven’t opened up about before.

That concern only deepens when he catches something dripping from your fingers.

“Ah-! Your hand!”

Shiro quickly closes the space, taking hold of your hand and pulling it up so that he can get a better look. Sure enough, the impact of the punch had split the skin of a few of your knuckles, and blood smears along the back of your hand, thankfully not enough to be serious; and yet Shiro still panics, brows furrowing upon taking in the sight of what you’ve done to yourself. For a beat you watch him, only half registering the pain that blossoms across your knuckles before you shrug.

“Oh. Whoops.” The response is despondent, and at the tone of your voice he visibly bristles, frustration finally bubbling to the surface as he blurts out.

“You’re bleeding. What the hell were you thinking?!” there’s a harsh edge to his voice as he scolds you, turning your hand this way and that to assess the extent of the damage. By the time he’s reassured himself that the injury is minimal his head snaps up to give you a glare, though it simmers away the moment he spots the genuinely guilty look in your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” The apology comes out as a low mutter, and Shiro’s taken aback by just how quiet you are as you cast your eyes down to your hand, giving your fingers an experimental flicker “I just needed to do something to prove I was still…me, you know? That I had some sort of control over what I do, even if it’s to myself.”

Your words give Shiro pause, your name slipping from his lips as he stares up into your face trying to gauge the emotion that he finds there. There’s a solemnness in your expression, but there’s also frustration - towards yourself or something else he has no idea, but it’s clearly weighing heavy on your mind even if you won’t open up about it. He has to admit that there’s a part of him that’s hurt you won’t tell him what’s troubling you, though he can take a few guesses over what it could be given everything the pair of you have been through together. But he’s not going to force the topic, instead taking a slow, steady breath to level his head before speaking.

“Let’s just get you cleaned up.”

Glancing away from your hand you visibly perk up, head cocking to the side confused at the reassuring smile that he’s now giving you. “What? But I’m fine, it’s not even that bad!”

“Oh, really?” as if to prove a point he presses ever so slightly on your knuckles, giving you an ‘I told you so’ look at the sour twist in your expression from the dull throb of pain.

“Ow, okay, okay, fine - maybe it’s a little bad. But really you don’t need to worry so much Shiro.”

“I’m your friend, it's my job to worry about you.” he shoots back, though there’s a now joking tone to his voice when he adds “And you sure love giving me things to worry about.”

For the moment you find yourself smiling at that, giving him a chuckle of your own. “Guess I can’t deny that - guess that’s why I’m so lucky to have you looking out for me!”

Shiro fumbles at such simple praise, and that only makes you laugh even more, slipping your hand out of his grasp to give him a clap on the back. The tension from earlier is far from gone, and there’s a part of you that knows that this particular discussion is far from over; however you allow yourself to enjoy it for now, if only to help further reaffirm that you’re here to experience this moment.

Toji

Your mind is your worst enemy. Every doubt, negative thought, and burning question blooms and festers there; and when left unchecked and unresolved it inevitably comes back to haunt you. You’ve always dealt with it the same way, knowing no other way to handle the uncertain feelings rearing their ugly heads. Sure, it isn’t the healthiest of coping mechanisms, but it gets the job done, even if it is at the cost of some broken drywall and occasional dented furniture.

The resounding CRACK reverberates around the quiet of the room, and no sooner has your fist slammed against the wall you’re retracting your hand, shaking off the blossoming pain with a hiss. It hurts, but it’s reaffirming - it helps you feel like you’re still present, still here enough to feel the pain. And that’s what you were looking for - that reminder.

You’re still shaking off the pain as you turn away, giving your hand a blank stare before you move to keep going. Only to leap back with a shout once you come face to face to Toji, who’s stood in the doorway with a flabbergasted look with shopping bags still looped along his arms from where he’d been carrying them in.

“Oh shi- dammit Toji you scared the hell out of me-”

“What kind of foolishness are you getting involved in now?” He doesn’t hesitate in cutting you off, looking visibly confused and exasperated as he glances between you and the impressive scuff that you’ve left on the wall. You can already feel the incoming lecture coming in over damaging guild property and how Shiro will have your head for cracking the plaster, so you’re quick to dismiss his concerns.

“Oh, that? Nothing, really.” you shrug off his worries with a nonchalant wave of your hand. “You know how it is - just making sure that I’m still here and all-”

This time you’re the one to cut yourself off, slapping a hand across your mouth when you realize the words that have just come out of your mouth. But it’s a second too late, and you just know that you’ve put your foot in it when Toji parrots your last few words back to you, the frustration making way for an emotion that’s both perplexed and something else as the swordsman regards you. He’s trying to glean what you mean from a glance, and you’re uncomfortable under the sudden attention, shoving your hands into your pockets as you backtrack. “I-I mean, well, doesn’t everyone worry about that from time to time? Sure maybe I was a little extreme about it, but it’s fine. I can just fix the wall and we can forget this ever happened!”

Toji gives you a hard stare for a few moments longer, and you fidget even further. Was it always this hot in here? You feel like you’re about to start sweating when he finally breaks away, shaking his head in a disapproving gesture as he steps off to the side.

“And here I’d assumed your recklessness had its limits. It seems I was wrong”

“Ouch, thanks for the kind words as usual, Toji.” The witty retort comes naturally, though you do admit that it hurts a little to hear the dismissal in his tone.

Wordlessly he shrugs off the bags that he’s carrying, depositing them in a neat pile to the side for the moment before he turns back to face you. And then, just like that, he’s crossing the room not once stopping until you’re face to face, and you let out a sharp “Hey!” when he reaches down to tug your hand out of your pocket, fingers closing around your wrist as he holds up the fist that you’d used to punch the wall just minutes before. Toji’s gaze slides over the limb, clicking his tongue at the red hue to your knuckles and the back of your fingers. They’re no doubt going to bruise, but thankfully you’re none the worse for wear - though from the look on your face it's clear that you don’t even care that it could have been worse, and that lights up a fire behind his next words.

“Good. You were lucky not to break the skin.” Toji grumbles this mostly to himself, and you have to fight not to wrench your hand from his grip not used to the sudden contact.

“Oi, what do you think you’re-”

“You shouldn’t be hurting yourself for the sake of feeling present.” he snaps, and just like that any angry remark you were going to make dies on your tongue. When he senses that you aren’t going to butt in again, Toji continues, angling your hand so that you can see the angry red marks scuffing the back of it.

“There are better ways to prove your existence; and despite what you may believe, tearing yourself apart isn’t going to give you the relief that you’re looking for for long.”

These should have been obvious, and a part of you knows that what he’s saying is true. But it still strikes something in your chest, something that feels almost uncomfortable to even think about. The serious tone in his voice only makes it hit harder, and your mouth suddenly feels dry as you tear your eyes away from your hand to look at him, not knowing what to say. Usually you’re the one with plenty to say, but this time it looks as though your companion’s the one to give you some words, no matter how blunt his manner may be.

“Should you ever need another reminder, then come to me; I’ll be happy to show you that you’re here as many times as it takes for that fact to take root.”

“Toji…” there’s an odd twist in your chest as you mull his words over in your head, batting them against the negative thoughts that have been taking root there as of late. You weren’t expecting that to come from him of all people, and honestly you aren’t sure how to process what he’s telling you just yet. So you respond the only way you know how, flashing him a somewhat nervous grin.

“That’s so sweet. But your grip’s getting a bit tight there buddy.”

And like you’ve flipped a switch the moment’s broken, and Toji immediately drops your hand. Stepping back he puts some distance between you and grumbling to himself about not wanting to repeat himself again and how he hopes you’ve taken heed of his advice. What makes him stop is the smile you give him, flashing a thumbs up.

“Seriously though, thank you, Toji; I’ll have to take you up on it next time.”

That seems to placate him, and he gives you a curt nod satisfied with your response before returning back to his task before he’d walked in. This time you’re the one to help him, trailing behind to take some of the bags off of his hands as you aid him in carrying them further inside.

[honeytae]

You’ll always be my favorite person.

okay...here we go...this is my first venture into a mini-series! this will have four or five parts i think...it’s just super fluffy friends to lovers, you know the gig. they’re idiots but...they’ll find their way eventually <3 i hope you all like this, please let me know if i did okay  tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters genre: angst, fluff, IDIOTS TO LOVERS warnings: mentions of cheating, depressive themes (breakup aftermath), namjoon is in denial word count: 3.3k

In which your best friend, Kim Namjoon, helps you get over your asshole ex-boyfriend; perhaps, maybe, he was never the one you loved anyway.

Your eardrums still buzzed from all the shouting. 

Your socked feet repetitively hit the ground, bunching the fabric of your shirt in angst as the aftershocks of the breakup rung through your body. You’d been pacing your living room ever since it happened, a painful lump in your throat threatening to rear it’s head as you debated calling him.

Him. Your best friend, Namjoon. The one you could go to for anything, the only one you wanted to go to. Especially in times like this, when your hands were shaking and your chest felt tight and constricted. 

It was definitely not a good time, only a few hours before his workday began, but you felt as if you were going to drive yourself insane if you went on like this. 

Tapping on Namjoon’s contact, you caved, pressing the phone to your ear to hear the two deep notes before they abruptly stopped.

“Hello?” He rasped, clearing his throat at the gravelly voice he’d just displayed, you staying silent on the other line as guilt seeped through your veins.

“Were you sleeping?” He hears your much too awake voice say through the phone, shaky in a way that had him alert in an instant. 

“No, no,” he lied, sitting up against the headboard as his brows furrowed in worry, “what’s wrong?” he asked immediately, concern taking over his tone as he heard you hesitate, balls of his feet landing on the ground as he clutched the phone tighter at the sound of your sniffle. 

The mere question made tears collect on your water line, lower lip trembling as your face scrunched up in a silent cry that wracked your shoulders. 

Trying your best to regain your composure, you ran a hand through your hair, pushing it away from your face as your stare directed out the window adjacent to you. 

“I don’t even know how it escalated so much but we got into a fight, he left, we broke up.” You blurt out, biting down on your lip to silence the sob coming up your throat and threatening to spill out into the microphone of your device.

There was a heavy moment of silence between the two of you, one that would typically be filled with a joke or poking fun at the other for their awkwardness. But this one was tense, Namjoon’s anger bubbling in his chest echoing in the silence as you stifled your cries.

He’d been there for you for multiple breakups, being the shoulder for you to cry on each time someone broke your heart. It was heartbreaking for him as well, seeing you so shattered over someone who didn’t deserve you. Someone who didn’t deserve your love in the first place. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled, pausing for a moment at a loss for words. “Are you okay? That’s a stupid question, of course you’re not.” He answered himself, grabbing his glasses from his bedside table to slide atop his ears. 

“I’m coming over.” He announced, standing from the mattress and stumbling over to his wardrobe, pulling out a pair of sweatpants to hastily slip on as he lifted his shoulder to his ear in order to hold the phone so that he could still hear you.

Immediately, you began to shake your head no, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see you. 

“Joonie, don’t, I’m sorry for calling-“

“Love, I’m coming over. I’m already on my way.” 

When Namjoon arrived, you couldn’t help but collapse into his arms, his strong limbs wrapping you up in a tight hug as he shut the front door behind him. 

“I’m so sorry, love. I’m sorry.” He whispered, hand placed on the back of your head as your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs, his own heart breaking at the sound of your choked cries being muffled into his shirt. 

He stood with you in his grip for a few minutes, letting you cry in his arms as he swayed you comfortingly side to side. 

“Can I walk you over to the couch?” He inquired softly, getting a stoic nod from you in response, never lifting you head from his chest as he began shuffling both your bodies over to the living room. 

You blindly followed his lead as he lowered himself down onto the couch, placing you beside him on the cushion and welcoming you closer when you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

Rubbing his palm up and down your spine, he watched as you steadily began to breathe slower. 

“What happened?” He murmured, watching with gentle eyes as you lifted your head from his body, pouting as you sat up straight against the back of the sofa, looking down at your lap dejectedly. 

Shoulders heaving in a long sigh, you ran a hand through your hair to push it away from your face, the patience exuding from the figure next to you easing you slightly. 

“I was the one who ended things.” 

Namjoon made a quiet noise of surprise from his spot next to you, eyebrows raised slightly as his eyes widened. 

Out of all the relationships you’d been in during his time of knowing you, you’d always been the one who was broken up with. Your history with dating had left Namjoon angry time and time again at the brutal endings that had come along with it. 

“What’d he do?” He asked firmly, tone protective yet knowing as his eyes implored your sullen figure. Fiddling with your fingers, you blew out a sigh, bra it yourself for the explanation to come. 

“Do you remember Hobi’s party?” You asked, Namjoon cocking his head in confusion at the abrupt question.

“Remember when I stormed off and you had to come find me?” You elaborated, a light bulb sparking in Namjoon’s brain as he slowly nodded. Yes, he did remember that.

He remembered coming back from the restroom and not being able to find you, clueless as to where you’d gone before his friends filled him in that you’d suddenly fled without reason. 

Circling the yard several times without finding you, he walked into Hoseok’s house, poking his head into each room with no luck. 

It was when he glanced out the window of the kitchen that he saw a light outside in the dark; a phone screen lighting up none other than your face, low to the ground making him scrunch his brows in confusion before scrambling to exit the house to make sure you were okay. 

Namjoon, ever the gentle giant, couldn’t walk quietly to save his life, shoes pounding against the pavement with each long stride he took toward your hunched over frame. 

The sound of his footsteps had only jarred you slightly, setting your phone down in your lap with a sigh as he sat down beside you on the curb of his friend’s driveway. 

“How’d you end up here?” He had asked, ready to poke fun at you before he noticed the sad gleam in your eye, a frown suddenly overtaking his face as you merely shrugged in response. 

It was a complete contrast to how you’d been just before he’d left for the bathroom, laughing and singing and having fun with him and his friends. He didn’t know what could’ve possibly happened in that short time he was gone. But you were upset, which automatically made him upset.

He tensed up when he realized you might want to be left alone, opening his mouth to ask if that’s what you wanted but pausing once you scooted toward him to rest your head on his shoulder. 

He remembered the words you whispered after a few moments of heavy silence, Namjoon’s heart pounding in his chest as your hands wrapped around his bicep.

I love you.

Moments like that were the hardest for him. Of course he remembered. 

“Yeah. Well, I stormed out because he was letting this girl sit on his lap, practically making out with her.” You scoffed, picking at a string dangling from the sleeve of your shirt as you frowned at the memory.

Silence absorbing the room, you glanced up at Namjoon, unsurprised by the perturbed look on his face.

Namjoon seemed beyond appalled before the emotions on his face turned into anger, his once gaped mouth tightly shut, clenching his jaw while his eyes shot daggers at the man who was no longer in your life. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He finally spoke, facial expression hardening by the second with the new information. 

“I was embarrassed, Joon. Obviously him going to someone else is a message that I’m not enough. I didn’t want anyone to know that, not even you.” You shrugged, Namjoon’s face scrunching in confusion at your explanation.

“That’s such bullshit. He’s sleazy. That’s why he went to someone else. His actions don’t insinuate anything about you.” He fumed, causing you to shrug tiredly.

“It was fucked up, and he knew it. He apologized, said he was just drunk.” You sighed, playing with your fingers in your lap again as Namjoon listened, glancing at your side profile as you heaved another deep exhale. 

“I bought it then, but I don’t believe a word of it now. She’s been blowing up his phone ever since that night.” You confessed, Namjoon’s eyebrows knitting together at your words.

“Was he,” Namjoon started lowly, not daring to finish the sentence he had began. 

“I don’t know, I can’t prove it, but he was messaging her all the fucking time, Joon. It made me feel really weird.” You sighed, resting your elbow on the back of the couch to place your temple onto your palm, letting your eyes fall shut in exhaustion.

“I wouldn’t feel good about that either. God, what a fucking dick.” He said in disbelief, looking at your tired form with a sympathetic frown before shuffling his body closer to you.

“C’mere.”

You heard the return of his soft voice call for you, reaching his arm out behind your back to welcome you into his chest, wrapping you up in a tight hug as he rested his chin on the top of your head. 

“I’ll always be here for you.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair and making you exhale a sigh against him. 

“I know you will. Thank you.” You whispered, clutching onto his soft shirt with a ball of your fist into the fabric. 

“And I’m gonna kick his ass.”

You exhaled a small wheeze at that, burying your face into his shirt, his solid figure providing a comfortable headrest for you. 

“You’re not gonna kick his ass, Joon. You’re too good for that.” You patted his shoulder fondly, sniffling against him as his hand circled your spine. 

Namjoon sighed, knowing you were right. He’d never be able to. But god, if only he was a little tougher. He’d beat any asshole who decided to toss your love away.

Tucking his neck in to look down at you, he recognized the closing of your eyelids, your breathing slowing as you fell into slumber. 

Your eyelashes fanned out onto your cheeks, the skin slightly pink from the salt that had been trailing down from your eyes earlier. Your hair was caught in the dampness, causing Namjoon to gently gather the strands and push it back behind your ears. 

Carefully turning his body around the sofa, he slowly lowered his back to the cushions, you snuggling up on his chest as his hand rested on the crown of your head. 

Staring at the ceiling, he could not fathom the fact that someone would choose anything over this. Over you. He had your love, and he threw it away. It angered Namjoon to no end.

Namjoon, who had been your protector since second grade when he’d helped you get your hair untangled from the swingset. He still remembered the vision when he’d seen it get caught from across the schoolyard, running away from the soccer game him and his friends had been playing in order to help you. 

He could still picture your big eyes staring at him as he untwisted your hair from the chain, explaining to you that he had experience doing this because it’d happened to his younger sister so many times.

You’d been quite shy then, only saying a polite thank you when he was done and taking his slightly sweaty hand to shake it when he offered it to you.

“Namjoon. I’m new.” He explained with a smile, withdrawing his hand to push his glasses up his nose before backing away from you as his friend called out for him.

“I’ll see you later!”

From that day on, you and Namjoon had steadily grown closer, running around with each other at recess and sitting together at lunch. You’d broken out of your shell with him after spending so much time together, your shyness slowly fading as he gained your trust.

As you went into middle school, you two stayed close despite every other friend duo or trio breaking up, the both of you managing to avoid drama all the way through your freshman year. 

That was the year Namjoon got his first girlfriend.

They’d only dated a few months, but he’d been left heartbroken when she wanted to split up. It was you that came to his rescue, stopping at his house with his favorite takeout and rocking him from side to side when he eventually broke down in your arms. 

You had always been there. And his crush had been too, but he’d, through years of suppressing it, gotten to a point where he could act like it wasn’t. 

After all, you were best friends. And that was enough for Namjoon. Having you in his life in any capacity was enough.

•••

You awoke a few hours later to a blinding light in your living room, sun piercing your swollen eyes making you cover them with your palms, a groan slipping past your lips at the heavy weight of your eyelids protesting your consciousness. 

Rubbing them to hopefully soothe the feeling, you pulled your hands away from your face, grasping the blanket on top of you in confusion. 

Dropping your head back down onto the couch, your mind raced with flashbacks from last night. The way he had screamed at you when you’d reached for his phone when it wouldn’t stop ringing because of that fucking girl, how it had turned into a huge argument that ended in you breaking up with him, collapsing in tears as soon as he left. 

You felt dizzy at the memory, the nearly two hour long argument draining you mentally, emotionally, and physically. 

You remembered calling Namjoon, him coming over-

Namjoon. Where was he?

Opening your eyes again, you tried to sit up, scooting your butt back on the couch to straighten your spine. It cracked as you did so, causing you to groan lightly as you turned your neck, sleepily looking around your living room. 

Finding your cell phone on the coffee table, you reached your arm over to retrieve it, looking at the bright screen with squinted eyes. 

Bypassing the rest of your notifications, you read the timestamp, concluding with a sigh that Namjoon had most likely left last night and already departed for work.

Standing up off of the couch, blanket still draped over your shoulders, you shuffled to your bedroom, plopping yourself down on your bed face down with a grunt. 

You couldn’t help the way your mind started spinning with the events of the last few months, the spiral and eventual downfall of your relationship. 

Was he the love of your life? Probably not. But fuck, you’d devoted time and emotion to him, you’d defended him to your family and friends and made yourself look like an ass while doing so over him, and you still weren’t enough. You weren’t enough.

Silent tears began soaking the pillow below you, your sniffles filling the room as you covered your face with the blanket, trapping yourself in the darkness beneath the tent of fabric. 

Finally, the fresh tears stopped falling, your bedroom once again encased in silence as you shut your sore eyes, hoping for some sleep to distract yourself for a bit.

Just as you were about to plunge into sleep, you startled awake at the sudden feeling of a hand on your shoulder before settling at the familiar warmth and size of the palm. Namjoon. Your gentle, goofy, over-sized best friend.

“Hello?” He called to you, tugging at the blanket again to which you released your grip, allowing him to see the wet trails down your reddened cheeks as you pouted up at him.

The devastated look on his face made you feel even worse, never liking to see Namjoon with such a glum expression.

His dimpled smile belonged on his face, the gentle scrunch of his nose when he laughed at something making him look not too far off from when you used to make him laugh in elementary school. 

Seeing Namjoon sad was always a trigger to you, and with your current mental state, it was no exception. You couldn’t hold back the choked sob that came out of your mouth, Namjoon instantly sitting back against the headboard and welcoming you into his side as you crawled to him. 

“Oh, love.” He frowned, hand trailing up and down your spine to coax your cries. 

“It hurts, Joon.” You whimpered, the man soothing your hair back with a frown.

“I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He said softly, not knowing what other words to say. 

Honestly, he was fucking furious at him. Furious for playing with your heart like that. But he needed to be here for you, present to make sure you were coping healthily. 

“I thought you left for work.” You whispered, Namjoon humming softly in response.

“Mm, no, I called out. I just went to go pick up some coffee.” He explained, gesturing over to your bureau where two to-go cups of coffee sat side by side. 

“Why’d you call-”

“Because you need me and I’m not going to leave you. Plus, I woke up late today anyway. There was no time for me to go back home and get dressed then get there.” 

“You didn’t have to call out for me, Joon.”

“Love, I wanted to. I promise.” He said, causing you to sigh against him. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled, not knowing quite what you did to deserve such a selfless person in your life. 

When it came to absolute sweethearts, Namjoon took the cake.

“Plus, now I can spend my day with my favorite person. Who’d give that up?” He squeezed your shoulder, raising his eyebrows when you stirred in your position.

His words caused you to pick your head up off of him, Namjoon ignoring the daggers you sent him while he smoothed your fuzzy bedhead down with his palm. 

“You wanted to spend your day with a crying broken me? Really?” You practically scoffed, Namjoon squeezing your shoulder in response. 

“Hey, crying you is still you. You’ll always be my favorite person.” He defended himself, you shaking your head at him with a small smile. 

Laying back down against him, he latched an arm around your waist, securing you in his hold and making you exhale a bit of the tension in your body. 

“Wanna watch something?” He looked from the blank television back to you snuggled against his side, your nod causing his arm to reach over the bureau to grab the remote. 

“The usual?” He wondered, beginning to type the letters into the search bar when you nodded once again. 

Setting the remote down as the Looney Tunes introduction music played from the speaker, both your and Namjoon’s eyes glued to the screen as you lost yourselves in the nostalgia it provided. 

It brought you back to simpler times, when you were in fifth grade having your after school snack at Namjoon’s house, fruit that his mother had cut up for the two of you. 

It brought you back to simpler times when stupid men hadn’t wormed their way into your heart, only to reject you once they had you. 

Being brought back to earth by the man beside you with his hand trailing through your hair, you closed your eyes, thanking him in your head for always knowing what you needed. 

You knew you’d be okay eventually. Namjoon wouldn’t let you fail.

He never had.

[bratz-kitten]

attack on titan characters - birth chart analysis 🌙

Here is my take on the big 6 of Levi, Eren, Armin and Mikasa of attack on titan/shingeki no kyojin! I kept their sun signs since we know the day and month of their birthday and since I think they’re absolutely perfect. If you want me to do my take on the others (like Jean, Historia, Erwin, Hanji, Connie, Sasha, Reiner, etc) please let me know! (spoiler warning!)

Levi Ackerman

sun in capricorn - levi mf ackerman is fuelled by three things and three things only: LOYALTY, a strong moral code and power. he is seen by most people as a heartless, unemotional bastard but is canonically the most emotional character - he shows love through very indirect ways and he’s the peak of capricorn in the sense that he represses his emotions – he smiled literally ONE time in four seasons, and didn’t once shed a tear. he’s very hard to read. has a lot of respect for his superiors and follows the orders of only those he’s loyal to. he’s driven by his moral codes in the sense that the protection of humanity is his prime motive for fighting titans. like a true capricorn, is the master of his field of work and cares the most about being a survey corp member. please protect this tragic baby. 

virgo rising - two words: CLEAN FREAK. this man has a strong need to be presentable at all times and hates getting blood on his hands for the single fact that he needs himself and his environment to be clean. his obsession with being clean is very much due to his childhood trauma and how he lived in in poor conditions in the underground. he has many quirks that correlate with this: the way he holds his cup, the carvat he uses bc of his mother, and the way he always cuts his own hair because that’s the way his mother used to do it.  intimidating and demands respect. DRY HUMOUR. 

moon in scorpio - i think he has many similarities with mikasa, especially in the moon and venus. introverted and hates people but will go to the ends of the earth to protect the ones he loves and respects. represses emotions and internalizes his hatred until he has a mental breakdown - which happens in the form of extreme violence. VERY sensitive and emotional even if he doesn’t show it. he’s very intuitive and often acts based on gut; he’s secretive and vindictive. very wise and great at giving advice. doesn’t let himself get manipulated and uses shitty situations to his advantage (like with the reeves company). trust is the most important thing to him.

mercury in aquarius - levi is extremely logical, and hates when others involve their feelings in the making of decisions. his decisions are always backed up by strong arguments and others often see him as cold and detached. i saw someone  mention something extremely interesting about aquarius mercury’s/people with their mercuries in the 11th house: despite not being very sociable, others are drawn to them for friendships – and often they’re the introverts who get “adopted” by extroverts. this is 100% levi’s case, hanji and erwin practically adopted him. being very vulgar with his words and having a distinctive sense of humour, he’s very humanitarian and is actually really talkative but only when he’s very comfortable around someone. blunt, always tells it like it is – like when he tells eren he can’t know what the right choice really is and he needs to choose it himself. teases and insults his friends as a form of affection.

mars in scorpio - levi’s a fighter, a survivor. he knows what it’s like to come from nothing and have to build himself up. very confrontational. reclaims his power by exerting intimidation and mastering violence. others fear doing as much as make a joke at his expense. understands other’s motivations and characters very easily. he’s very intuitive. very serious due to his need for having an intense and demanding presence, for being respected and valued. he’s the one who everyone sighs of relief when things go to shit and he appears because you know he’s the strongest and most dependable person.

venus in capricorn - good luck getting this motherfucker to open up. his trust is very hard to gain but is necessary for working with him – he places his full trust in his comrades and demands the same from them. very work-oriented and takes relationships very serious; it’s really telling that he cares little for romance because capricorn venuses are the ones to date to marry, and will only devote themselves to someone once they believe they’ve met the one. they either want a more powerful and mature partner or they exude that energy (levi is the latter). slightly parental – we see this in the way that levi is pretty much the dad figure. it’s called squad levi for a reason, after all. very responsible. takes care of loved ones and often uses tough love as a form of discipline.

Eren Jaeger - im not even kidding with this one, he has extreme aries energy

sun in aries - eren feels the need to be very independent and he hates whenever he has to depend on mikasa and others, wanting to be strong enough to reverse the roles. he’s very self-confident, bold and direct. very impulsive, he’s quick to anger but is also very quick to forget - especially seen with his arguments with jean, fighting him is basically a love language at this point. aries suns are very fast thinkers and their strong energy may come off as intimidating. they have great intentions but that often becomes muddled with their impulsivity and the fact that they don’t think ideas through. eren is unabashedly himself and fights relentlessly for what he wants. his aries energy also makes him extremely motivated! he believes in the impossible and will make it happen no matter what.

aries rising – aries risings are the trailblazers. they ooze intensity. eren has very much a baby face and, due to his impulsivity and childish charm, people tend to baby him a lot – in the sense that he’s this kid surrounded by adults who needs supervision at all times or he’ll get into deep shit. aries risings are also marked by their extreme need for action, they’re the ones to do now and apologize later instead of asking for permission to do something in the first place. he is guided by his passion and is a natural leader who inspires everyone to fight alongside him. aries risings have a lot of energy which they need to express in a physical way, making them be prone to be very athletic and lead very active lives. he’s also extremely competitive and is driven by the force of becoming stronger than mikasa, and often feels angry when he realizes how stronger than him other people can be. at the same time, this pressure to be better is put solely on himself. he’s a dumbass with a good-heart and pure intentions.

moon in sagittarius – all this motherfucker talks about is freedom and seeing the world past the walls. he craves adventure and is extremely optimistic. but even if a sagittarius moon needs their freedom, they are still absolutely ride-or-dies and once they’ve commited to something, NOTHING or NO ONE can stop their determination. these are also the people to try their best to always appear cheerful and full of determination to hide their sad façade – like when he was nearly vomiting when talking about the titans to the other recruits when they began the training in the military but still forced himself to say that the titans aren’t scary at all and that they aren’t a big deal; he naturally inspires others and fills them with courage. but the way they put on this strong and brave façade leads to a strong emotional turmoil, violent urges and a sudden hostility to others. they are filled with surpressed anger that can lead them through very destructive paths – and the happy-go-lucky child might just lose her hope. we see this in eren in the most heartbreaking way.

mercury in aries – LOUD!!! eren speaks what’s on his mind with NO hesitation whatsover. he’s very quick to defend his friends and points of view, and speaks openly about his passions and dreams. he’s very assertive and tenacious. short attention span and not afraid to give a different opinion from someone else’s. very passionate about what he argues about. very expressive and when an aries mercury disagrees with you, you’ll know it immediately by their facial expression. confident and thrives on inspiring others. remember him being mad when it was discovered the possibility of all titans being humans because now he didn’t know who the enemy is and he NEEDS to hate someone and blame them in order to keep going? ARIES MERCURY ENERGY!!

mars in aries - people look to mars in aries to lead them. they’re full of energy and dynamic, and very athletic - eren exceeds at hand-to-hand combat and, in the other subjects where he’s not so good, his determination makes him push forward and become better. VERY hot-headed and confrontational, which is both the source of all their problems and their strength - they are not afraid of going after what they want and are willing to go through any obstacle to do so, and they’re also not afraid of upsetting other people in order to do so. eren is courageous, loves to take initiative and is very enthusiastic - something that is very contageous. competitive and hates compromise, he likes getting his own way. aries mars are also very individualistic and can have a huge ego.

venus in pisces - i know this is going to confuse a lot of people - like, how does he have so much aries energy, how is he so intense yet has one of the softest venus placements? i deeply believe he’s a pisces venus, and here’s why. his friends are EVERYTHING to him. pisces venus’ love very deeply and are very dependent on their loved ones, and eren is extremely protective of his loved ones and is willing to do anything to protect them. pisces venus’ are very vengeful, too, something that people seem to brush off about them - they might not do anything when you mess with them but as soon as you mess with their friends it’s game over. i also get a lot of “there was no other way, the word had to be fixed” vibes from this placement? like, this placement gives me the energy of someone willing to commit awful crimes under the excuse of it being for the greater good, which is something he dramatically experiences as he grows older and witnesses the cruelty of the world.

Armin Arlert

sun in scorpio - armin very resourceful!! he easily adapts to the circunstances he’s in and works his way around it. very intelligent and with great memory. extremely manipulative, cunning and perceptive. scorpios are known for their capability to be great investigators due to their natural curiosity, and armin has this deep need to see the world outside of the walls and he studies all there is to know about it with great passion. determined to succeed. 

cancer rising - armin just wants to achieve his dream and it’s so soft. cancer risings are very receptive of other’s emotions and incredibly sensitive, but it’s difficult for them to open up to others. his appearance is very soft and delicate. loves to help others and has a naturally warm presence that makes others feel comfortable in his presence. give off a very grounded and stable energy, but this is often because they try to hide their most intense emotions and don’t know how to deal with them/don’t want to bother others by opening up about it. 

moon in pisces - one word: EMPATHY!!! very compassionate. tendency to become a martyr and be very self-sacrificial. VERY imaginative, he is the strategist, after all. can feel others emotions and read them very easily. avoids confrontation but feels a strong need to take the weight off of others’ shoulders and to solve all their problems. very loving and giving, in tune with his emotions and emotionally intelligent. on the other side, this caring side of him can make him see other people through rose-colored glasses, and he is prone to believing in the best in people and giving them the benefit of the doubt. but when they’ve proven their true nature to him, he’ll see them for what they are and will no longer defend them, even if still feeling remorse. notice how he’s always like “this had to be done, we had no other choice” to justify his actions.

mercury in scorpio - bro armin’s eyes are so intense. when he gets on his manipulative bullshit it’s IMPOSSIBLE to look away from his gaze. he practically communicates through the eyes. armin is very sharp and his innocent appearance has everyone still thinking of him as a sweet angel as if he isn’t a whole war criminal. he easily psychoanalizes others to know what they want and uses it to his advantage, like how he used berthold’s love for annie to manipulate him to let eren go after him and reiner kidnapped him. scorpio mercuries be knowing shit, they be knowing everyone’s secrets and others usually confide in them as if they’re their therapists. 

mars in pisces - mars in pisces makes a person avoid physical confrontation at all costs. notice how armin’s first response to everyone wanting to kill reiner and bertold/the marleyans was “please let’s just talk about this first”? he hates violence and deems it not worthy most times. he is very physically weak and aware of his limitations, unlike eren and levi, whose first instinct is to use violence in order to get what they want. no, armin has developed a much more subtle and effective way to get what he wants without using violence: emotional manipulation. he is the KING of appearing innocent and naïve and having people feel bad for him and want to baby him and protect him, and due to his extremely intuitive nature, he knows EXACTLY what to say to someone to get under their skin. he twists his words and emotions to get what he needs out of people and it’s both incredible and dangerous. also, very self-sacrifical and his goals are based on his emotions.

venus in cancer - he loves so much and it’s so beautiful and heartbreaking. he gives everything to the ones he loves and thrives off of being helpful and keeping everyone safe. reads a lot into the behaviour of the people he loves. very emotionally intelligent, wants stability and to maintain peace and may bend over backwords to achieve that. needs to feel understood and has a soft spot for troubled people, those who are more demanding and assertive (eren and mikasa), people he can take care of and who can take care of him in return. very affectionate and communicative. warm presence, you can pretty much feel the love radiating out of him. 

Mikasa Ackerman 

sun in aquarius - if you get past the emotional walls of an aquarius that has them appearing detached and distant because they’d rather use intelligence than seem emotional, you’ll be met with an incredibly soft, loving and caring person. an aquarius strength is their ability to be very unique, individualistic and humanitarian individuals - they truly march to the beat of their own drum. mikasa possesses a great deal of determination and isn’t afraid of being rebellious, especially when her loved ones are in danger. 

capricorn rising - people with capricorn rising had to learn to be very independent from a very young age. mikasa is very intimidating but she has a very doll-like beauty, common to many capricorn risings. these people have had to deal with a lot ever since childhood, but they are fighters and their determination has them being able to survive even unsurmountable odds stacked up against them. capricorn risings tend to be serious and disciplined, and with a melancholic aura to them – which mikasa perfectly embodies. but the fact that these people have cancer in their descendant makes them strongly emotionally attached to their loved ones.

aquarius moon - even under the most stressful and dangerous situations, mikasa always remains in control of her emotions. she thrives in those situations, it’s the adrenaline of the moment that has her being so good at controlling her emotions until it’s safe to be anything but racional again. aquarius moons are feel very misunderstood and tend to racionalize their emotions a lot. however, it’s only due to their fear of vulnerability that they build this emotional walls, because they experience very intense emotions. i always think about that survey corp member saying “what did you have to go through for you to be like this?” when she was perfectly stable in a life-or-death situation. 

mercury in capricorn - mikasa is incredibly action-oriented and she speaks in a structured but confident way. although she’s on the quieter side and is reserved, she’s able to inspire everyone when all hope seems lost, and she’s taken up eren’s words of “if we don’t fight, we can’t win” and uses it constantly in order to keep going. she’s very hard to read due to her usually expressionless face, giving her a mysterious aura. she’s very ambitious, persuasive and determined. 

mars in capricorn - when people say that mars in capricorn people are the scariest when they’re angry, they’re not wrong. they act so calm and collected until suddenly they’re fixing you with a death glare and you’re rethinking all your life choices up until this point. mikasa might be extremely rational and calm, but as soon as someone threatens the ones she loves, she’ll stop at nothing to eliminate the threat. it’s like she fears nothing but ever being unable not to save them. she’s very responsible and reliable, with a lot of physical strength and stamina. very PROTECTIVE, grounded and GIVING 

venus in virgo - this is one of the things that makes mikasa so similar to levi, the way they love. this bitch is LOYAL to her very core. she knows very well where her loyalties are - eren and armin - and is ready to kill all her close friends and superiors in order to protect them. she threatened to kill historia if she got in the way of getting eren back home safely, jumped levi on sight when he wanted to save erwin instead of armin, and got pissed at connie for doubting eren’s intentions after the whole marleyan ordeal. acts of service are very much her love language - she constantly picks up eren’s and armin’s stuff and carries it herself or orders them to rest while she works. it’s very hard to gain her trust and loyalty but once you do it’s forever, she’s very selective about the people she cares for. she’s possessive, too - giving historia the coldest death glare in the world when she saw her with eren. i’ve also noticed that venus in virgo are very difficult to declare their emotions!! they’ll just wait for the person to notice their indirect acts of affection. very attentive to the needs and details of loved ones.  

[bestialchorus]

The Invisible String- Chapter 5 (Final)

You feverishly kiss Donna back while rushing into the hallway, your grip tightens as she pulls you flush against her. To think, just hours earlier a simple grazing of skin burned your flesh like acid. But now you eagerly embrace each other’s desperate desire, welcoming all that was originally hidden in the darkness as it rises to the surface. You never could have predicted the woman returning your feelings, let alone with such vigor. You’ve only kissed and yet, Donna kisses you as if she’s trying to express something that cannot be said through words, speaking a language only possible through love and lust. Every touch is making it harder for you to keep your composure.

For a split second you think about heading to Donna’s room, only to quickly abandon the idea once you remember it’s full of dolls. You assume it best for all parties if you were away from prying eyes. The only witness to your passions is the grandfather clock you run by as you awkwardly enter your room, shutting the door behind you with a kick of your foot, your hands much too preoccupied to help.

Brilliant rays of sunlight shine into your window, illuminating the cozy room you’ve been occupying for the past year.

The bed dips under Donna as you lower her as gently as you can despite the haste in your movement. But the dollmaker has no intention of separating, you smile as she brings you down with her, bracing your hands on either side of her head. The plush bed anchors you as reality begins to melt away, all that exists is Donna and the little sounds of pleasure she exudes as you kiss her harder….but you want more, no, you needmore.

Donna almost protests when she feels your lips leave hers, only to release a small sigh once you start peppering kisses along her jawline. Already she feels slightly delirious, slowly catching her breath as you lovingly mark her skin and mark her you do. Donna cradles your face as you trial down her neck, softly gasping as you start to leave a hickey, her alabaster skin quickly bruises. The sensation is new for her but hardly an unwelcome one as she feels her core pulse, her body embracing, no, aching, for more. Warmth plagues her skin, making her head feel heavy as her physical desires start to take over. You make your way back to her lips, lightly nipping at her skin, leaving as many “signs” of your love as you can. You selfishly want to let the world know she is yours and you are hers. It’s primitive and a bit animalistic but you can’t help it, there’s something about the woman with veil trying to hold back her erotic sounds as you make her yours that brings out another side of you. The image of her snowy skin turning pinker as every touch overwhelms her is almost intoxicating.

When you finally pull away, heavy breathing fills the air as you admire each other. Her hair is sprayed across the sheets, finally free, crowning her with a dark halo. The image reminds you of the angels you’ve see on stained glass windows, appropriate considering you wish to worship her in every sense of the word. Her gaze locks onto yours, her eye is completely black now, like a void calling for you to get lost within it once more.

Donna places a hand on your cheek, worry evident on her face as her voice brings you back.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Is something wrong?”

You must have been staring at her longer than you realized.

You lightly shake your head, taking a few seconds to look down at her, REALLY look at her before answering. “You’re just……so beautiful, Donna.” You say with a breathy whisper, almost in disbelief of her existence.

Surprise flashes over her face for a few seconds, clearly not expecting such a response. Donna avoids your gaze as her cheeks flare up, her demeanor shrinks as she speaks.

“You just…..you’ve always just been too nice to me, Y/N.” She softly retorts, trying to find the hidden meaning behind your statement. *You don’t have to lie to me, I know what I look like*- she thinks, her expression riddled with insecurity and doubt.

Your eyes slightly narrow as you study her, gaze lingering as you try to process her statement, your expression unreadable as various emotions fill you. It pains you to think Donna believes you taking her bed is you simply being “nice”. But you know addressing a lifetime of anxieties isn’t exactly the best kind of pillow talk, nor is it something that can be helped overnight. But there is something you can do, right here in this moment; you can try to convince her, to show her your feelings go beyond “nice”.

The woman catches something flash over your eyes, but what exactly she can’t pinpoint. You ever so slightly bite your lip as you look away for a second before returning to her.

“I’m glad you think me kind, my love-“ You say while leaning down, your hair framing her face.

*my love* The term of endearment makes her heart skip a beat.

“..but it seems I’ve failed to properly show you how I really feel about you…” The bed creaks under you as you place a knee between her legs, the sudden pressure makes her gulp.

Your gaze locks onto her, “but I think I know how to convince you.” You finish with a low whisper, pressing your leg further against her. Donna loudly whimpers in response, quickly covering her mouth in embarrassment as she feels another pulse ripple through her core. Your own cheeks warm up from how erotic you find the sound…but you can’t help but want to hear more.

You gently remove her hand and give her a chaste kiss, her lips try to follow you as you pull away, wanting to explore your mouth once again.

“You sound as beautiful as you look.” You again overwhelm her with your words alone, your deep stare only adding to their meaning. Though you see disbelief in her eye- she doesn’t look away this time, almost as if this is her way of “compromising”.

You take your time as you lean back, bed creaking from the shift in weight as you straddle the woman, your gazes locked onto each other. Donna looks up at you, gulping as your stare doesn’t waver, instead, noticing your hand slowly start to reach towards her dress. Anticipation fills her veins as you inch closer. But right as you’re about to reach the buttons over her chest, you stop and hover for a bit before pulling back. Donna tries to suppress the anxiety that tells her “you’ve come to your senses” about wanting the one-eyed mutant. She instead tries to decipher the idea that flashes over your eyes. You catch the woman off guard, suddenly ripping your own outfit off with visible determination. You throw the clothing behind you with little care, showing no acknowledgement as it hits the floor.  

You think it may be more comfortable for the dollmaker if you were naked first…and by the way she looks at you, you may be right.

Donna’s eye travels over your figure as sunlight highlights every detail. She looks up at you with what can only be described as awe, as if she was looking at an ethereal being for the first time. You never thought much of your body.  But Donna’s expression says otherwise; for there is admiration there, mixed in with something you know too well, hunger.

“Y/N… you’re perfect.” She says earnestly and you can’t help but bashfully look away for a second as a crimson hue emerges over your face. She simply responds with a doting smile as it truly wasn’t her purpose to embarrass you, but she can’t help but adore every aspect of you, physical and all.

*Geez, for someone with little social skills she sure knows to make a girl blush.*  You think while scratching the back of your head.

You try to regain your composure through a joke, “I’m sure you say that to all the girls, Mistress Beneviento.” Your voice low and coy.

Unfortunately, Donna refuses to let you recover, continuing to rattle your composure…all without even trying.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted.”

She says without missing a beat. Her expression is as determined as it is loving, the seriousness behind the statement makes your heart race.

Oh, how you could write poems, novels, of how this moment sets your heart ablaze. How your love for this woman could be read as sermons of worship for those looking for the meaning of life, for you’ve found it in the face that looks back at you…but right now you can’t, for your mind is only full of static. Something is taking over, something more….animalistic. The heat you’ve felt late within the night as you dreamed of this woman is nothing compared to the flames that fill you now. Hell has awakened within you and it’s taking over…

Donna takes notice of how your breathing has quickened. You look down at her like a beast who has cornered its prey, she’s ashamed to admit that it excites her. Her gaze tells you to take her, to satiate your hunger and to not look back…so you do.

You capture her lips in a fevering kiss, running your hands down her dress. She quietly whimpers as she feels you begin to gently massage her chest through the heavy fabric. The pressure sparks heat between her legs, making it harder for her to kiss you as she moans against your mouth. Donna throws her arms over your shoulders as you deepen the kiss, anchoring herself as your tongue explores her.

The temperature in the room rises as Donna starts to realize just how sensitive she is, quickly becoming overwhelmed as your hands travel over her body. The dollmaker’s dress starts to feel tighter the more her arousal begins to grow. The offending fabric suddenly feels too heavy, almost suffocating as she aches for your touch against her skin.

Eventually your hands graze over the buttons on her collar once again, Donna holds you there with a fierce grip. The gesture makes you break the kiss, you look down at her in a slight daze. You’re met with a flushed Donna, her pale skin now wearing a prominent blush. The woman’s gaze travels down your body, taking her time before quickly flickering back towards her hands, squeezing tighter as she tries to tell you what she needs. You take the hint and begin undoing the first button, gently addressing her.

“Are you sure? There’s no rush.” You say with a slight shake to your head, looking to her for consent.

Normally Donna loves your patience but not now, not when she feels as if she could combust at any moment.

“Please, Y/N. Please don’t stop.” She pleads with a rasp to her voice, looking up at you with desperation. The image makes your cheeks burn, creating heat between your legs.

You lower yourself back down to her, matching her whisper. “Okay…” You claim her lips once again, “okay..”

Donna’s grip instantly loosens as you taste her again, hands surrendering as she feels you unbutton the rest of her dress. Your heart drums against your chest as you undo the final button, leaning back as you gently help the woman maneuver out of the outfit, finally removing it and her underwear with it. You toss the articles of clothing to the side, the fabrics gently smack against the floor.

Your eyes fall onto the woman before you. Donna sits on her knees; hands covering her chest as goosebumps naturally form over her newly bare skin. She wears a bashful look, trying not to retreat as your gaze travels over her. You notice the occasional patch of mutation over the right side of her body, very similar to her eye. But just like the rest of her face, the rest of her body is equally porcelain in nature. Everything about it is just so……perfectly Donna. You cup her face and softly smile at her.

“Thank you for trusting me…” You whisper while lightly caressing your thumbs over her cheeks. The woman hangs off your every word, taking in all of you as you take in all of her.

“Thank you for letting me see you…..but now I want to show you how beautiful I find you.”

Your words make her heartbeat quicker.

You position yourself behind her, brushing her hair away over a shoulder as your lips meet the back her neck. She relaxes under your touch, exposing more of her skin to you as she leans into your kisses. A sigh escapes Donna as she feels your hands trace over her the outline of her shoulders, lightly grazing over her skin with the pads of your fingertips, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your amazed of how smooth she feels; even the bumps of her mutation feel almost inhumanely soft. Her skin feels less like skin and something more akin to satin.

“My gods, Donna..” You rest your head on top of her shoulder, looking down as you watch your hands makes their way towards her chest, slowly caressing up her body.  

“You’re so soft.” You coo against her ear as you cup her breasts, making a shiver run down the dollmaker’s spine. Donna feels heat pool in her core as you massage her chest, quicky losing clarity as you lovingly fondle her. She moans, slightly squirming as she feels your fingers delicately claim her nipples, rubbing them between your index and thumb. To no surprise, your Mistress is quite sensitive, the nerves in her body ignite as her peaks pebble between your fingers. Her heavy breathing arouses you, making you release a shaky breath against her ear as your eyes shut for a moment. The sensation has her desperately seek your lips once again, turning her face towards with you with a silent plea.

Your mouths meet and her lips burn your flesh. Her moans fill you as her hands suddenly cover yours. Donna slightly keels over as your lips claim her shoulders, bed creaking under your weight as you singe her skin with more hickeys. Your dominate begins to hand glide down her body, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. You only have two hands and yet it’s becoming harder for the dark-haired woman to pinpoint where exactly she begins, and where you end. With every passing second your bodies blend more into each other, becoming one as your desires finally meet.

Donna takes a breath in as the tips of your fingers inch towards her sex, biting her lip in anticipation as you move a bit too slow for her.

“Please…” she rasps, already lightheaded.

You loudly moan into her ear as your fingers enter her with ease, realizing how wet she is, she’s practically dripping. “Fuck…”

Donna immediately covers her mouth as you easily fill her. At first your pace is slow, trying your best to slowly ease her into it as her walls engulf you. The dollmaker bucks into your touch, body urging you to speed up as she tries to focus on subduing her sounds but failing as they become louder from behind her hands.

“Please let me hear you, Donna. I want to hear you.” You breathe into her ear.

You accentuate the point by lightly biting her neck. You quickly make sure to soothe the sensation by running your tongue over it and sealing it with kisses. Too overwhelmed to refute, the dollmaker throws a hand to your cheek and the other over your hand, supporting herself as vocalises everything she feels.

Her sweet sounds fill the air; whimpers making your head spin and moans making you quicken your pace. The beast still rules you, telling you to mark her so the world knows she belongs to you but there’s something else here, something much softer. Donna begins to pant against your ear, making your core burn but that doesn’t matter right now, for all you want is for her to feel sweet release. You start pumping in and out of her as quickly as you can, hand starting to cramp up, but you don’t dare slow down.

Donna’s hand tightly grips yours as she finally keels over, landing on all fours as your body mounts her from behind, your hand never leaving her centre. You decide to try something out…

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” You praise her as you nip at her ear, making her whine and you decide to push further. You continue to whisper sweet affirmations, this in combination with your fingers pumping in and out of her makes her tightly clutch the sheets, knuckles turning white. You tell your Mistress how erotic she is, how her lovely mewls stir something deep within you, pressing your body further against her from behind. Wetness starts to drip down her thigh.

Without warning, the dollmaker loudly moans, her body slightly spasms once your fingers find a certain spot. Her legs start to shake as you repeatedly press against it, confirming your discovery.

“There! Please there!” She cries, rutting harder against your hand, desperately trying to add more pressure.

You answer her plea by tightening your grip over her body and suddenly upping your pace until its relentless. Your carnal desires take over as you hook your fingers into her, filling her as deep as you can while your palm roughly hits against her clit. Donna is barely holding herself up as you rail into her, pleasure clouding her mind as you grunt against her ear.

“Y/N…” She says in between ragged whimpers.

You involuntarily buck against her, your body moving on its own as you take her both from the front and from behind. You ferally pound against your mistress.

Your voice comes out heavy with desire, as you and Donna are cheek to cheek.

“Come for me, Donna….I want you to come for me, baby.”

Hearing your voice finally sends her over the edge…

The dollmaker almost blacks out as she comes with a cry, all of her builtup pressure finally released as her body goes limp. The woman would have collapsed onto the bed if you weren’t there to support her, you hold her flush against you. You lovingly kiss Donna’s face as you continue to gently finger her, slowing your pace as you help her come down from her high.

“You did so good, my love.” You comfort the limp woman in your arms, gently lowering her onto the bed as she tries to catch her breath. She looks up at you through hooded eyes, a lazy smile on her face as she feels completely at ease, it’s as if she’s released some sort of weight, she somehow feels lighter.

You return her smile and bring your hand to your mouth. You lick your fingers clean, keeping your gaze locked onto her, waiting for her reaction. A sudden blush appears on Donna’s face, eyes widening in realization as she gulps.

“You taste delicious, Mistress.” You say playfully.

The woman lays there stunned as another pulse sparks her core, blush deepening.

“Is that..possible?” Her voice quiet but carrying genuine curiosity.

For some reason you find the question endearing and you feel that softness once again. Without thinking you straddle her and lower yourself until you’re face to face. Her eye travels over you but different this time, it’s as if she was looking at you with fresh eyes, as if you’re still Y/N but meeting you again for the first time. You gently kiss where her right eye should be, taking a pause to look at her as you press another kiss to her lips. Your actions make you realize what this softness is…but you want to show her, just, without the beast.

She happily sighs as you she feels you kiss down her body, bringing her hands to your hair once again, lightly caressing your scalp. This is when Donna notices healed lash marks down your back, narrowing her eye as she tries to process them during the quiet moment. Confusion and worry fill her but right as she’s about to raise concern, she feels you kiss her inner thighs. Her gaze meets yours and without warning you give her sex a languid lick, never breaking eye contact. Donna bucks against you, feeling her arousal return as your tongue continues to worship her.

It doesn’t take long for pressure to build up within the dollmaker, her thighs tightening around your head as you suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. But right as you feel her release coming, you stop- much to Donna’s disappointment as she whines. But you don’t leave her waiting for long as you quickly move back up her body, straddling her as you capture her lips once again.

But before she can register what’s happening you start to grind against her, rubbing your sex against hers. Donna holds you tight against her chest (consciously making sure she doesn’t disturb your marks), eye shut while gasping into your mouth as she loses herself to the sensation. It feels both heavenly and sinful. Sweat starts to run down your forehead as you give into the carnal pleasure, equally losing yourself to the moment. That is…until you look down at her.

The beast starts to fade away again, desperately trying to clutch at your senses but it’s no match for her…no one is. Your heart swells when you look at her, wound up to no end, hair in complete disarray as sounds of pleasure leave her. You now understand what the softness is…and it terrifies you. Insecurity riddles you once again as you ferally rut against her, feeling her wetness down your thigh. Donna arches her back off the bed as she’s about to come once again, further pressing herself against you as her toes curl.

No. Do not allow fear to blind you. Give yourself to her, ALL of you just as she has to you. Speak your truth and be brave, for she deserves that…and maybe..just maybe, so do you.

You feverishly capture her lips again and she matches your passion. “Donna? Donna, please look at me.” You almost plea between kisses.

Her eye flashes open, you see very little white in it, and you wonder if it’s a side effect on her mutation, regardless- it only adds to her beauty in your eyes. Donna struggles to keep your gaze as she feels you begin to speed up, responding with a shaky cry and you almost come then and there. But with the little composure you have, you speak.

“I love you…”  You begin pounding into her with everything you have, the bed loudly squeaking under you. You press your forehead against hers as you continue, your entire body tensing up as your gaze locks onto hers.

“I love you, Iloveyou,Iloveyou, Iloveyou!!” You chant over and over again as you finally bring her over the edge. Donna arches her back and violently slams against the bed with a harrowing sob. Her eye rolls into the back of her head, nails digging into your back until she quickly goes slack under you. You come just seconds later; your voice caught in your throat as the smallest sound leaves you. You see stars before immediately collapsing onto the dollmaker.

The heavy breaths of you and your lover fill the air, a small smile appears on your face as you feel her hands embrace you, holding you in her arms. You hear her sniffle and use what little strength you have; you look at her. Remnants of tears can be seen in the corner of her eye and concern covers your face. But before you can comment Donna speaks.

“It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me, Y/N. Just a bodily response to overwhelming…feelings.”

Your worry is replaced with guilt. “I shouldn’t…so quickly- I should have waited-“  You’re stopped by her finger gently pressing over your lips.

“Shhhhh, believe me when I say I enjoyed every second of it. You would know if I didn’t.” She finishes with a warm smile. She’s right, you would. You can tell when Donna is lying or feeling uncomfortable by her voice alone and currently you don’t hear any discomfort in it (or see any for that matter).

Her smile suddenly becomes bashful as she awkwardly looks away from you, forcing herself to meet your gaze again as she speaks.

“I..I just wanted to say..” She gulps and anxiously stares as you as she works up the courage to continue. Whenever Donna struggled to say something, you always told her the same thing, time and time again; take your time, there’s no rush.

You decide to reposition yourself so you’re holding her in your arms, you place a kiss against her forehead.

“Take your time, there’s no rush.” You lovingly say as you bring the comforter over both of you. This seems to give her the courage she needs.

“I..I-I love you too, Y/N. Truly I do.” You smile at her as she characteristically blushes, and you tenderly kiss her once again. Though she hasn’t voiced it yet, the head of House Beneviento would kiss you for the rest of her life if she could. When you pull back you stop just a breath away and push some stray hair behind her ear. The air shifts as you address her, your voice soft but steady.

“I can’t believe it took us this long to say it….we make quite the pair.” You finish with a playful tone and Donna responds without skipping a beat.

“At least you didn’t have to get advice from the other lords…” She admits sheepishly.

Your mouth hangs agape in shock. Donna goes on to explain how she went to her fellow Head of the Houses for confessional advice, apparently some advice ended up being more helpful than others. She also admits that certain “meeting” days was simply a coverup so she could spend time at Castle Dimitrescu. Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters were especially helpful with listening and giving Donna the confidence boost she needed to tell you.

Donna tries her best to impersonate each of the animated members of House Dimitrescu and you listen intently, enjoying very much how comfortable she seems without her veil. It feels as if a wall has disappeared between you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. She giggles when remembering how defeated Alcina looked once the young women started suggesting “sexy” lingerie as “bait” (an idea she immediately shot down, but they continued anyway). You allow her to relive her memories, admiration in your eyes until a sudden realization hits you.

“Oh my gods, Donna…”

She looks at you, curiosity evident on her face.

“…..you seduced me. I can’t believe you would use your prodigious title to seduce a poor, innocent painter like myself. The rumors are worse than world could have ever imagined, Donna Beneviento; devious seducer of young maidens…who could have guessed.” You say while feigning shock. You add to your over-the-top performance by clutching imaginary pearls, hand splayed across your forehead.

Donna gives you the lightest smack on your arm while giggling but decides to play along.

“Oh, what will innocent maidens do with a menace like me on the loose?”

In a fluid motion you straddle her once again, lowering yourself to her face as you whisper.

“I suppose it’s up to me to help satiate your hunger. It’s the only way everyone will be safe.”

A pleased smile emergences on Donna’s face, happy of where the moment is going. “Are you willing to make such a sacrifice?”

You raise an arched eyebrow at her in response, fighting back a smile. You look down at her for a few seconds before going to whisper into her ear, your voice heavy with suggestion.

“That depends, how hungry are you Mistress?”

She answers your question by grabbing your face and bringing your lips back to hers, telling you she has an insatiable appetite but maybe just maybe, you’ll be able to help with that.

[berrydoodleoo]

If Ignis were himself, he would no doubt have counseled them against the trip, or at least proposed some kind of clever work around. Gladio would have loomed and grumbled, and then would have been the first to bow at Luna’s bedside with some courtly, if gruff, remark. But of course, Ignis wasn’t himself, and really, neither was Gladio. And Noctis knew it was all his fault.

But Prompto was insistent, and he was trying so hard to be himself and keep things light. He'd taken over Iggy’s duties of cooking and planning their trip, and still found time and energy to help Ignis activate the handicap settings on his phone while keeping up a steady stream of light-hearted chatter. Not to mention visiting Luna and helping out with the rescue and relief efforts. It was like watching someone do a ballet in a field full of giant boulders – three of which were named Ignis, Noctis, and Gladiolus – he just kept moving, kept dancing, and you almost couldn’t see the toll it was taking on him.

Almost.

So Prompto brought up visiting Luna’s hospital room again, as-if casually, mentioning that he’d had word from Weskham as to where she was currently hidden, and that he was sure he could get them in without being noticed by Imperial spies. And besides, Pryna had licked his hand when he’d visited last, which probably meant that Luna was going to wake up soon, any day now, and wouldn’t it be something if she woke up while Noct was there? A kiss from Prince Charming, eh?

Gladio had snorted, an ugly, mocking sound, and Prompto had stuttered to a halt, with an expression like his heart was breaking. Ignis had averted his face, just slightly. Shutting the whole world out. And Noctis had dredged up a voice (his own? someone else’s?) from the vise clamping his chest and said sure, Prom, let’s go.

And so they did.

Traveling the streets of devastated Altissia in Lucian royal black was probably unwise, but Prompto seemed to exude a notice-me-not aura that, in conjunction with the chaos still gripping the city, was enough to let them travel unmolested. They kept to the areas packed with refugees where possible, where everyone had their eyes glued to the screens announcing ferries and how long the current wait lists were (some were hours, most were days) instead of at each other. It did nothing for his nerves, which were a constant jangle, but at least no one stopped them. Or worse, shouted, hey, Prince Noctis!

The hospital was mostly intact, at least from the outside. Upon entering, it became clear that it had suffered a beating, either from Leviathan or the Imperial forces. The first level was still flooded, the polished marble turned treacherous by a thin layer of mud. The smell of mold competed with the smell of hospital bleach, and Noctis almost gagged.

There was a crowd here, too, too many people to fit in the emergency room reserved for the most critical cases. Noctis stood aside as Prompto shuffled about, standing on his toes, trying to find the best way forward without attracting too much attention.

A little kid with a bloody rag tied to his forehead stared at them. Noctis met his eyes and then regretted it, trying to look away and act casual. When he glanced up, the kid had wandered from his sleeping mother to stand beside them, still staring silently.

Prompto almost collided with the kid, and then did a double-take. “Hey!” he exclaimed quietly, and he sounded happy. “Stanford, my man!” He crouched, careful to keep the edges of his jacket out of the water. “How you doin’? Still waiting for a doctor, huh?”

Stanford – he must have been a few years younger than Talcott, too young to be so injured and haunted-looking – nodded, popping his filthy thumb into his mouth.

“Can I take a look, dude?” Prompto asked, gentle, touching the bandage on the child’s head. He nodded again.

It made Noctis’ eyes water, seeing how gentle Prompto was with the kid. He unwound the bandage and checked the wound beneath – the sight made Noctis wince – and produced some wrapped bandages and antiseptic wipes seemingly from his pocket (Noct felt the tug that meant they’d really come from the Armiger). He talked the whole time – man, those are cool shoes, I love chocobos, and how old are you again, dude? like, sixteen, right? or seventeen, you’re in high school, right – trying to coax some words out of him. Stanford was clearly listening, half-smiling at Prompto’s jokes, but was otherwise unresponsive.

He submitted to the cleaning with only a little tearyness. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t about anything Prompto had said.

“Do you have more magic potions?” he asked hopefully.

Prompto winced, shooting a quick glance at Noct. They’d agreed early on not to share their potions with people – it was too easy to trace them back to Noct, and Ignis was always concerned they would run out at the worst possible moment (which, to be fair, they had done so more than once).

“Not at the moment, little dude,” Prompto was jittering, hurrying to finish wrapping the bandage, “but uh, maybe later, I can, uh–”

Noctis reached into his back pocket and summoned a potion from the Armiger, the same trick Prompto had just pulled. It was weak – he just hadn’t been able to summon the magic for a proper Elixir once it was clear they wouldn’t help Ignis’ eyes – but it would help ward off infection and help with pain management. For a little while.

Stanford’s eyes lit up, and he started to snatch the glowing bottle from Noct’s hand. But then he hesitated. “For – for me?” he asked, staring up at Noct with the hugest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Yeah.” Noct tried to smile for him, extending the potion a bit further. “Of course.”

Stanford accepted the bottle, hugging it to his chest as if were a precious treasure. Now his eyes glowed with happiness, watching Noct, and he stood obediently still as Prompto finished retying the headband that kept his bandage in place. “Can I share it with my mom?” he eventually asked.

Noctis glanced at the sleeping woman, and wondered what was wrong with her. Was she injured, too, or just exhausted? “Yeah,” he said again. “Just don’t tell anyone else, okay?”

Would the woman even accept it, if her son told her he had a magic potion from a strange man? Well, maybe she would assume it came from a doctor, or that it was still the harmless bottle of (Noctis checked) apple juice it had started out as. Albeit glowing apple juice. Well, marketing, right? Maybe it wouldn’t seem too weird.

It was Stanford’s to do with as he chose. If he wanted to give it to his mom, or a total stranger, or pour it down the drain, Noctis wouldn’t stop him. He just didn’t have the energy.

Stanford’s eyes went even wider, but he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said.

Brave little man. Noctis tried to smile for him again, moved his lips in the familiar gesture, and the kid tried to smile in return. If his own forced smile made him look as sad as Stanford’s did, Noctis mused, then it was no wonder people kept flinching away at the sight.

~

They found an un-monitored stairwell, the door blocked off with yellow tape. It quickly became clear as to why it was locked down – some tree branches and half a gondola were poking through the battered walls, tossed through marble and concrete by Leviathan’s rage. Worse, there were puddles of slimy water everywhere.

Prompto kept ahold on Noct’s arm – Noct realized he’d been doing that since they left their borrowed refuge in the Secretary’s home, as if Noct would drift away without the anchor – as they made their way up the stairs. “I don’t think he’s gonna keep it a secret, man.”

Noct had to blink himself back to the present. “Huh?”

“Stanford. With the potion.”

Noct shrugged. “Didn’t get the impression he was talking much.”

“Noct…”

“It’s not a big deal. We’ll be out of here soon.”

Prompto seemed deflated, guiding him up the stairs. “Yeah.”

Noct let himself be led. What did Prompto expect him to say? Maybe he wanted Noct to go back down the stairs and offer to help everyone else in the room. Give out their store of potions, grab some bottles of water and start enchanting those, too. Act like a king for once, instead of piece of luggage that had to be carted to and fro by people smarter and more capable.

“I just feel bad, you know?” Prompto said, his voice echoing a bit in the humid, smelly space. “I’ve never done anything to deserve you guys – traveling with you guys, using your magic, seeing the gods, I – I don’t deserve any of this – this magic, this specialness, I’m just –” He swallowed. “And then there’s kids like Stanford, and man, I just don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anything.”

Noctis let his arm slide through Prompto’s grip until he could squeeze his hand. They paused, side-by-side as they sidled around a piece of crushed stairwell, and Prompto squeezed back. Hard.

~

Noct started feeling floaty once they left the stairwell. Parts of this floor were still in use, despite the damage and the flickering lights. But Prompto knew the way, avoiding the lighted areas, and led him to a dark hallway behind more yellow tape.

Noct felt his steps slowing. He and Prompto’s arms, connected by their held hands, stretched like a rope between two ships tugged in opposite directions. They reached a door, Prompto produced a key, and Noct thought he might faint. He pulled free of Prompto’s grip to lean against the wall, heart laboring, spots filling his vision.

Luna. Luna was on the other side. Once he saw her, it would all be real.

He needed more time. Time to get ready, time to be better, time to be the King she believed he was. All he could picture was her face – somewhere between the child he’d known and the woman he’d seen in official broadcasts – crumpling in disappointment, and the fact that it hadn’t happened (yet) did nothing to lessen the pain. Gods. Gods. He couldn’t do this. More time—

Prompto’s face appeared, looking worried and frantic, and then Noct was being hauled into the unlocked room despite his sluggish limbs. He heard the door shut behind them, closing them in safely. And when he opened his eyes, he was in Luna’s hospital room.

“Dude,” Prompto was whispering. “Breathe.”

Noct nodded.

“Breathe. Breathe.” Prompto pressed a quick, awkward kiss to his forehead. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

Noct breathed, or tried to breathe. When he opened his eyes, he could see Luna in her hospital bed, traced in appallingly bright sunshine, and he swayed again. Prompto caught him, held him up, held him in place. Just held him, really.

For a minute, he had the inane thought that Clarus and Gladio were on the other side of the door, and if they came in they would see Noct snuggling with Prompto and the game would be up. And then he remembered that Clarus was dead, that Gladio wanted nothing to do with him, and that this wasn’t his father’s hospital room, after the stroke that nearly claimed his life a year ago. Something about the smell, the beeping, the seafoam green of the curtains and blankets, must have taken him back. And his dad was dead, anyway, dead like Clarus, dead like Ignis almost was, dead like Luna almost is….

“I can’t do this,” Noct whispered, when Prompto backed off to give him a little space.

Ignis would have said, yes you can, Highness. Majesty. Gladio would have said, don’t give me that crap, you’re gonna do your duty if it kills us both. Luna would have said, none of us know what we can do until we do it, or fail trying. But I do believe in you, Noctis.

Prompto just whispered, “I know, man.” Noctis met his eyes, briefly, and the love and sorrow there stole his breath. “That’s why I’m here to help.”

Noctis glanced back, thinking of escape, about making excuses and stepping out, running away, back to the Secretary’s house and the room where Ignis and Gladio tip-toed around each other and the smothering silence. And then he swallowed, and squeezed Prompto’s hand, and nodded, meeting his eyes one more time.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, and Prompto led him forward, into the light.

[buckleyblueyes]

once you find it (it can never be replaced)

Wrote this as a little late birthday present for @diazchristopher! I hope you like it Neethu! Happy belated birthday! 

Summary: It’s not an earth shattering realization, there’s nothing dramatic about it. It’s as simple as it is inevitable (also read on AO3)

Buck realizes he’s in love with Eddie three days before Halloween. It’s not an earth shattering realization, there’s nothing dramatic about it. It’s as simple as it is inevitable. It happens on a Monday morning at the station. The coffee maker breaks on the first cup of the day, and nobody's happy about it. Chimney makes a run to the coffee shop to get them through, but he’s not back yet, and Eddie is glaring daggers at the broken machine, as if he can intimidate it into working again.

“Hey, Bobby, can we get a Hildy?” Albert asks.

Eddie whips around before Bobby can say anything. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. It’s bad enough I have one of those hell machines spying on me at home.” He glances at Buck. “I refuse to let Hildy infiltrate the station.”

Bobby chuckles. “Calm down, Eddie. We couldn’t afford a smart coffee maker anyway.”

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, and Buck can’t help the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips. “You’re ridiculous,” is what he says out loud. “God, I love you,” is what he says in his head. It doesn’t take him by surprise, doesn’t freak him out like maybe it should, given that he’s dating someone who isn’t Eddie. He’s always known his feelings for Eddie were more complicated than simple friendship. He hasn’t let himself dwell on it, has always had good reasons for ignoring the flutter in his chest when Eddie looks at him a certain way, or the warmth that cascades through his body when Eddie finds a reason to touch him (a hand on his shoulders as he passes by, an arm brushed against his, a knee pressed against his thigh in the truck). It was always there, a faint hum in the back of his mind.

Easy to ignore, until suddenly it’s not.

Buck breaks up with Taylor on a Tuesday in November, two weeks after the hum in his mind has graduated to an all encompassing buzzing under his skin, three days before their six month anniversary. It’s not dramatic, or even very painful, for either of them, and Buck knows he made the right decision. He likes Taylor, but he doesn’t love her, and as sad as she is to see him go, he knows that she doesn’t love him either.  

He’s not sure why it takes him so long between the realization and the decision to break things off with Taylor. Maybe it’s because breaking up with Taylor means actually acknowledging that he’s in love with Eddie to someone other than himself. Not that he says it, but he knows it’s implied in the way he says, “I just don’t think this is what I want,” and the way she just nods, like she’s seen this coming. Which she probably has. Subtly has never been Buck’s strong suit.

He announces the breakup the next day at work because Chimney is asking when he’s free to babysit Jee-Yun next and mentions something about not wanting to get in the way of Buck’s relationship and Buck assures him that there’s no relationship to get in the way of. Chimney pats him on the shoulder sympathetically.

“I’m sorry, Buckaroo,” he says with a small smile.

“I’m okay,” Buck insists. “I was the one who broke it off.”

“Oh.” Chimney sounds dumbfounded, which Buck supposes is fair, given how often Buck talks about being lonely. “Why?”

Because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, Eddie choses that moment to step out from the otherside of the ladder truck. “Why what?”

“Buck broke up with Taylor,” Chimney says, like he’s not stepping in the middle of an emotional minefield--after all, none of the mines will blow him up.

Eddie’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. But Buck knows him well enough to see it.

“We wanted different things,” Buck says, shrugging. The bell rings before Eddie or Chimney can ask more questions. Buck sighs in relief.

By the end of shift, everyone at the station knows about the breakup, because Chimney knows, and Chimney loves gossip, and Buck told Chimney he could tell people. It saves him the trouble of having to acknowledge it, lets the word spread without him having to have the same conversation a dozen times. Instead he focuses on his work, pretending not to notice the sympathetic looks his coworkers keep flashing him. Poor Buck, they’re all probably thinking, alone again.

Well. Almost all of them. Buck has no idea what Eddie is thinking, but he’s sure it’s not the same sad sympathy everyone else is exuding because Eddie never even liked Taylor. He’s probably relieved he doesn’t have to make awkward small talk with her again, if anything. Eddie watches Buck like their other coworkers, but the look in his eyes isn’t sympathy. Buck pretends not to notice Eddie’s looks, too.

A week after Buck’s breakup with Taylor, he’s leaning against Eddie’s kitchen counter with a beer in his hand, and Eddie’s at the sink washing dishes (only fair, since Buck cooked dinner). Christopher is in his room working on homework, and the house is quiet, which only serves to emphasize the tension that’s been building between the two men for the last week, like a rubber band slowly pulled taut, just barely held in place between two fingers.

“So,” Eddie starts, in a tone of forced casualness. “How have you been doing since your breakup?”

Buck takes a swig of his beer. “Fine. It was my choice, and I don’t regret it.”

“Your choice,” Eddie echoes, placing the last dish on the drying rack, before turning to face Buck. “Y’know, you never really told me why.”  

Buck gulps. “Eddie…”

“Why did you break up with Taylor?” Eddie asks, dark eyes boring into Buck. The rubber band stretches even further. “And I don’t want the lie you told Chimney.”

Buck sets down his beer, and crosses his arms. “Why did you break up with Ana?”

“It wasn’t what I wanted,” Eddie doesn’t hesitate. “She wasn’t who I wanted.”

Buck’s arms fall back to his sides. “Who-what do you want, then?” He tries to swallow the word “who” in the back of his throat, but it comes out anyway. His palms are sweating and his heart is racing and oh, God, what if he’s wrong about this?

Eddie just takes a step forward, expression unreadable. “Don’t you know, Evan?” His voice doesn’t shake, but it’s quiet, almost a whisper. Like he’s forcing the words out before he loses his ability to speak completely.

It’s not even really an answer, not entirely. There’s just enough plausible deniability that Eddie could walk it back. Maybe. If they weren’t six inches apart. If Eddie wasn’t looking at him like every hope and dream he’s ever had rely on what Buck does next. If the last time Eddie used Buck’s first name wasn’t in a hospital room. If Buck didn’t know Eddie so completely.

The rubber band snaps.

Buck practically lunges forward into Eddie’s space, wrapping his hands around Eddie’s neck and pulling him into a kiss. He kisses Eddie hard, pouring every ounce of pent up emotion from the last three and a half years into it, and Eddie kisses him back with equal intensity. Eddie’s hands on his waist, callused and warm, and Buck pushes Eddie up against the edge of the sink so their bodies are pressed together as firmly as their lips are. Buck’s fingers find their way from Eddie’s neck into his hair, and he tugs gently, earning a moan from the other man. Seizing the opportunity, Buck slides his tongue along Eddie’s lower lip, which falls open further to let Buck in. Time moves slow as honey around them, as they melt into each other. Nothing else in the world seems to matter except getting more and more of Eddie.

Buck’s giddy with the feeling. He’s kissing Eddie. Eddie is kissing him back. Eddie wants him. He has to pull back, unable to stop himself from letting out a small giggle.

“What?” Eddie asks, breathless. He sure is a sight, hair mussed and lips swollen. He looks wanton and a wave of smugness bubbles up in Buck’s chest because he did that.

“Nothing, I’m just happy,” Buck says softly, leaning down to rest his forehead against Eddie's. “I thought you might--but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

Eddie’s brown eyes soften with fondness. “Me too.”

Buck swallows. “Should we talk about this?”

“Probably," Eddie says, and then continues in that casual, matter of fact tone of his, "I’m in love with you."

“Oh, well, good,” Buck ducks his head and smiles bashfully. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Eddie sucks a breath through his teeth, moving back just so he can move in again at the right angle for a kiss. “Well, then. Are we done talking?”

Buck pretends to think about it for a moment. “Hm, yeah. I think we’re on the same page.”

He barely finishes his sentence before Eddie’s lips are on his again, and this time he’s the one pushed up against the counter, the cold tile digging into his back. He knows they have more to talk about--how to tell Christopher, how (and when) they want to tell the team, what this means for their working relationship--but that’s all secondary. They’ll figure it out, together. Because he’s Buck and Eddie is Eddie, and they’ve both been all in since the day they pulled a live grenade out of a man’s thigh together.

Right now, all he needs is for Eddie to never stop kissing him like this.

(Eddie never does.)

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

Hello omg, can I request Sasha with a warrior S/O? Like reader came with Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt on their mission and during Reiner and Bertholdt’s reveal, she reveals herself too? UAUAUA it can be angst or whatever you prefer 🥺❤️

I gave the reader the Warhammer titan btw cause it’s my favorite akdkakfkd

Also, it’s a little long, but that’s just ‘cause I wrote out the whole warrior reveal in word form, and it’s longer than I remember lol

With You

(Sasha Braus x Reader)

AU: Canon, slightly divergent

Warnings: Gore/graphic description of injury, season 3 spoilers, slight season 4 spoilers

Genre: Angst

Summary: Following the battle at Utgard castle, Reiner stops to have a chat with Eren, and reveals that he, Bertholdt, and Sasha’s s/o are all titan shifters, right in front of Sasha.

Words: 3.9K

-------

You had no time to process what had happened. Ymir was a titan, Christa was Historia, and Zeke has finally made his appearance.

You sighed and leaned against the rope tethers of the pulley system, regaining your bearings on the platform as you were pulled up and over the wall. The battle of Utgard castle had been tough—and many secrets were uncovered.

So, Ymir was the titan that ate Marcel all those years ago... You recounted in your head, sighing as you held your face in your palms. And now Zeke is here. We must’ve been too long without any sign of progress. We’re in big trouble. If we get back without Annie and Eren, it’ll be all over for us. Magath is gonna—

“Y/n!” A cheery voice brought you out of your slump, and you looked over your shoulder to see Sasha standing behind you, an arm outstretched as an offering of help.

You smiled at the sight of your girlfriend, and you slowly rose from your spot on the makeshift elevator, taking her hand and pulling yourself up onto the wall. “Thanks, Sasha.”

As soon as you stood up straight, Sasha lunged at you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, lifting her feet off of the ground as you leaned all of her body weight onto you.

“I’m so glad you’re okay...! I was so worried!” She buried her face in your neck as she spoke, and you wrapped your arms around her lower back, putting your hands on her butt as support so she could wrap her legs around your waist.

You giggled at her, cuddling closer into her embrace. “I’m alright, I’m okay. There’s no need to worry.”

“I know, but I heard that you and your squad got held up at Utgard castle overnight in the middle of a titan horde, and when we finally got there and saw the tower collapsed, I was so scared! I... I—!” She cried into your neck as you moved a hand to rub small circles on her back.

“I know, I know, but we’re okay now. We had a bit of...” You glanced to the left. Ymir lay unconscious and steaming in the stretcher, a distressed Historia leaning over her and brushing strands of brown locks out of her face. “Unexpected help.”

“Mhm...” She mumbled, leaning into you for support. You stayed like this in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence after so long of being separated.

“Hey, lovebirds!” A loud shout caught your attention, and both you and Sasha turned to the source; Connie. “Save that stuff for the dorms! We still have stuff to do!”

“Right...” Sasha muttered, climbing off of you and running towards Connie, helping him haul terrified soldiers over the wall.

You stared in admiration for only a brief moment before your attention turned to your comrades, Reiner and Bertholdt. Reiner’s arm was wrapped up in the torn cloth of Historia’s skirt, and Bertholdt was close by, the two of them standing in a solemn, heavy silence.

You approached them quietly, taking a seat next to Reiner. Neither of you said anything. The sudden appearance of the beast titan, or rather, Zeke, had shaken you all. You had been gone for years, and gave no sign of retrieving the Founding Titan. Not only that, but you had lost Marcel and Annie. No matter what, the situation wasn’t going to end smoothly for you three.

To the right, many of the Scouts had gathered around a blonde Garrison soldier. Hannes—his name popped into your mind, as Eren had mentioned him before, while in the 104th. He seemed to be disclosing something to the others, and they looked on with mixed expressions.

“Do you think this has something to do with Zeke?” You questioned. Reiner kept his face buried in his palm, and Bertholdt turned to you with a sigh.

“Most likely.” The tall man answered. “I mean, we saw him. He’s clearly here. He must be doing something with his spinal fluid. Speeding up the process, perhaps.” He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in anxiety, eyes wide. “We’re in deep shit.”

You didn’t respond to him verbally, offering only a huff in solemn agreement.

The group of soldiers disbanded, though many branched of into separate conversations of worry, wonder, and resentment. As they walked off, Reiner stood up suddenly, eyes still fixated on the ground.

“Eren.” He called out, drawing the attention of the shorter man. “We should talk. You got a moment?”

“Sure, I guess.” He sighed, walking over. You and Bertholdt shared confused and concerned looks. The two of you had long noticed that Reiner had gone a bit off the deep end since arriving at Paradis, so you were wary of what he might say or do next.

“Five years ago, we compromised Wall Maria and launched an attack on humanity.” He spoke, turning his back to Eren, hanging his head in defeat. You looked at Bertholdt, and he mirrored your emotion. Panic.

“I’m the Armored Titan. He’s the Colossal.” He pointed his thumb in your direction when he spoke. “And she’s the Warhammer.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you telling him?” Bertholdt chocked out quietly.

“Reiner!” You whispered sharply, venom dripping from your tone. The three of you had done such a careful job keeping your identities secret from the others, and Reiner just spilled all of it. There was no going back from this.

“We were on a mission.” He continued.

“Stop!” Bertholdt pleaded, but Reiner didn’t waver.

“Our goal was to ensure mankind’s extinction. But now, there’s no need for that. Eren,” He turned to face the shocked and confused boy to his side. “If you want the walls to remain standing, it’s simple. Just come with Bertholdt, Y/n, and me. Do you understand?”

A good look to your left proved that he did not, in fact, understand.

“Understand? What the hell is there to understand?!” He shouted, drawing the attention of a few soldiers. Mikasa stood protectively a short distance away, and Sasha, with her impeccable hearing, turned to face the scene as well. The two of you made eye contact, and your distress must have been evident even at such a distance, because her eyes widened, and she started to make her way over with concern and confusion.

“Listen to me.” To your and Bertholdt’s horror, Reiner kept speaking. “I need you to do exactly as I say. Look, I know this is sudden, but we have to go.”

“Right now?” He exclaimed. “Where would you take me?”

“I can’t tell you. Not yet.” Internally, you started to collect yourself. This wasn’t ending quietly. Bloodshed was dreadfully immanent. “Just think of it as our hometown.” Your eyes widened. He’s just gonna ask Eren? You thought, astounded. After all this, he really thinks Eren is just gonna follow us? What is he thinking?!

“Okay? So what’s it gonna be? Not a bad deal, right? The chance to avert a major crisis?”

“I’m not so sure...” He muttered. You were surprised he didn’t have a stronger reaction, especially for someone as fiery as him. Perhaps he was still in shock, or denial. Either way, they were teetering on the edge of battle, even if you and Bertholdt were the only ones to sense it.

“You guys!” Armin shouted, waving to capture the attention of you, Bertholdt, Reiner, and Eren. “Get a move on, we’re heading out!” Despite that, Sasha pushed right past him, closing in to the conversation, standing still now that she was in earshot. Mikasa was to her left, watching Eren with a dangerously protection glare.

Eren closed his eyes, taking in a deep sigh. It felt as if, for a moment, the world stood still. Damn it, he thought, I didn’t want to believe it...

A distant memory flashed through his head. When Annie had been found out, they had discussed the possibility of Reiner, Bertholdt, and Y/n also being shifters, but they didn’t have proof. Was it really so simple, though?

He opened his eyes and placed a firm hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “You’re just tired. That’s it, right? Help me out here Bertholdt, Y/n. Your nerves are shot. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“U-Uh, yeah.” Bertholdt fumbled. “It’s the battle fatigue talking!”

“Yeah!” You reaffirmed, luckily being able to exude more confidence than Bertholdt. “You’re just tired. After everything that just happened, I can’t blame you.” You laughed nervously, praying no one saw through your bluff.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Between your bluff, and his shock, Eren took the bait. “If you really were the Armored Titan, what’s the endgame here? We wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. What’d you expect me to do? Say yes? Let myself be kidnapped just ‘cause you asked politely?” Somehow, you found yourself agreeing with Eren on that last one.

Despite Eren’s nonchalant response, a dead silence overtook the air, and Sasha found it as her cue to step forward.

“Y/n? What’s going on here?” She placed a hand on your shoulder, but as soon as she did, you looked back. She gasped at the sight. You looked petrified.

“Right. Not thinking straight, am I?” He finally gave up his ploy, wide-eyed and sweating bullets. “Barely know what I’m saying here. Must’ve gone off the deep end.”

Eren turned his back to the three of you. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Deafening silence and still air ensued. You did not move. The clouds cleared, and rays of sun shone down on the stone beneath your feet.

“That’s the problem.” Reiner shook. He chuckled, and shadows covered his face. You’d never seen him like this before.

“I’ve been here too long for my own good. Three years of this madness, surrounded by idiots. We were kids. What’d we know about anything?”

You couldn’t help but agree with Reiner on that one. You didn’t want to become a warrior, none of you did. If you knew the atrocities you had to commit in order to have the essence of a warrior, the idea would’ve never crossed your mind.

“Why did there have to be people like this.” He choked, tears pricking his eyes and mouth spread into a wide, ugly frown. “Why? Why did I let myself devolve into such a half-assed piece of shit?”

“It’s too late now.” He lifted his arm out of the cast makeshift cast, and held his arm up, showing the red and bloody bite mark. “Damned if I know what’s right anymore! Who cares? It is what it is. No choice but to face what I’ve done! As a warrior.”

His arm steamed, and shortly after, the skin closed up, blood drying and appearing as if he’d never been injured from the get-go.

“No road left but the one that leads to the end!” He screamed. Eren’s eyes widened as he gasped. He finally understood.

“Reiner! Right now? Here?” Bertholdt yelled back, prepared for anything, despite the beads of sweat that rolled down his face.

“We’re really doing this?!” You echoed, and Sasha looked on with a horrified expression.

“Yes. Right here, right now!” He commanded, marching towards Eren. “We settle this once and for all!”

Mikasa appeared out of nothing in a fraction of second, blades drawn and mind set on murder. She swung her blade at Reiner, who put up his hand defensively as the blade split his hand in half from his fingers all the way to his wrist. She spun around in an instant, and her blade cleanly slashed right across Bertholdt’s neck, who fell to the ground screaming and holding his throat.

He eyes were set on you, and an underhanded swing of her blade slashed a line right across your face. Blood immediately clouded your vision, and you groaned in pain as you were sure you had lost an eye.

She charged at you, determined to finish the job, but her sprint was interrupted by Sasha, who tackled Mikasa at full force, and the sword tumbled out of her grasp as Sasha pinned her down.

“Sasha!” She struggled. “Sasha, move! What are you doing?!” She tried to get up, but Sasha managed to overpower her momentarily, keeping her firmly on the ground.

“MIKASA STOP! PLEASE!” She pleaded at the top of her lungs. Rationally, she knew you were the enemy now, but she’d be damned if she let you die here, after everything the two of you had been through.

“Sasha, you can’t—!”

“I DON’T CARE!” She screamed. “YOU AREN’T GONNA HURT HER!”

Mikasa took quick advantage of Sasha’s emotional state and hurled her off, and she tumbled into a heap a few feet away. With little hesitation, Mikasa reequipped her blades.

But it was too late.

“Bertholdt! Y/n!” Reiner barked, lighting already manifesting around him.

The two of you looked at each other with horrified understanding, and prepared your own transformations.

Sparks of electricity surrounded you, and panic filled adrenaline exploded into flesh. Limbs shot out around you, plus the familiar hardened skin of the Armored, the skinless muscle of the Colossal, and the cloudy white body of your own titan.

Seconds passed, albeit one’s that felt like centuries, and you finally opened your eyes. You stood tall on top of the wall; 15 meters high. To your right, Reiner. And behind him was Bertholdt. Only half formed due to the space, and his lower body ceased to exist. Ribs shot out and dug into the stone, and powerful gusts of steam shot off of his body.

The terrified pawns on the wall stared up at you, mouths agape. But the shock didn’t last long.

The hurricane of steam that came off of Bertholdt started to throw things around, and those who didn’t make quick use of their ODM gear were sent flying. One of those figures, Eren, was quickly swept up by Reiner in the chaos.

It was no use, though. That’s why you weren’t surprised in the slightest when he bit his hand and sparks flew, his transformation queued by a guttural scream of rage.

“Damn you... YOU TRAITORS!”

The Attack Titan formed in Reiner’s hand, fist already drawn back and preparing a strike to Reiner.

In a fraction of a second, you formed a large hammer—your namesake weapon—from hardened titan skin, raising it into the air with a passionate battle cry.

The hammer struck Eren in his flank, and he flew abruptly to the left. You shot Reiner a look, and he looked down in understanding, drawing his arms back in preparation for a charge.

Eren had stood up by the time Reiner had started his charge, and immediately braced for impact—he didn’t have the time to move.

Reiner collided with Eren, and knocked him to the ground effortlessly, his greater size and weight being of good use.

The two wrestled on the ground, and you hesitated to intervene. After all, your weapon was powerful, but imprecise. You couldn’t risk accidentally hitting Reiner. Instead, you turned around, assessing the situation on the wall, where Bertholdt had been unceremoniously shackled.

It seemed no one was brave enough—or rather, stupid enough—to approach the colossal in it’s torrid state, and you didn’t know if you should be frustrated or grateful.

But, out of the corner of your eye, a figure swung. Your eyes widened slightly in amusement as ODM gear shot from tree to tree, approaching you at in impressive speed. Hmph. Guess someone is stupid enough after all. You thought.

You were about to swipe them away without a second thought, but you faltered at the sight of auburn brown hair, loosely tied into a familiar ponytail.

You must’ve gotten a little distracted by the sight, because you were suddenly brought back to attention by the figure landing on your shoulder, the hooks of their ODM gear digging into your shoulder, which you assumed were used as leverage mere seconds ago.

You turned your massive head to look at it, and you saw the figure gasp and tremble at the sight. Sometimes, you forgot how terrifying your titan was. But you perked up for a moment, brought out of your violent trance by a familiar face.

“Y/N!” It was Sasha. “Y/n, what is going on here?!”

You opened your mouth to respond, and it came out in a gravely, deep tone because of your titan form. “Sasha...?”

She released the grapples of her ODM to run up and hug your neck—the best she could, that is, with your immense size.

“Y/n! Come on! Why didn’t you tell me! This... this isn’t you... tell me there’s a reason!!!” She screamed.

Turning back to observe Eren and Reiner’s struggle, you sighed internally. It was just like her to get too emotional in a situation like this.

You turned back to Sasha with a sad look in your eyes. Carefully, you brought your hand up to pinch the hood of her Scout jacket, lifting her and placing her back down on top of the wall.

Slowly, you crouched down to her level, meeting her eye to eye despite the pain it caused you to see the heartbroken look in her eyes. Your hand curled around her back to support her, the only kind of pseudo-hug you could give at the moment. Your thumb gently made its way to the top of her head, and you moved it down slowly to caress her head. Tears streamed down her face, the internal conflict being far too much for her to bear.

But a sudden mass to your lower back brought you out of your intimate moment with her. Pain shot up through your body as you felt your back collide with the ground, and your eyes opened in horror. Eren had somehow managed to best Reiner in their scrimmage—and he was after you now.

You started to form the base of your hammer in your hands once again, but a forceful punch to your jaw stopped it’s formation out of the shock and pain.

Another fist made it’s way to your face—and another, and another, and another. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could hear noises. Roaring, growling, and, the loudest of them all, screaming. Though, in your state, you couldn’t discern if it was even you or not.

Eren delivered his last punch with a frightening roar of passion, and your neck twisted at an unnatural angle as your head snapped off the titan body with a horrid, bone-grinding sound.

Your battered body fell out of the nape of the titan, using what was left of your strength to emerge at the last second. It was all you had in you, though, and the last thing you heard was your own heavy breathing and distant shouting as your vision started to vade.

Eren stood up tall, towering over your unconscious body, raising his fists in the air with a triumphant roar of victory, the cheers of soldiers filling the air.

Filled with adrenaline and ego, he picked up your limp body in his hand, dangling your body over his already opened mouth.

He was going to eat the Warhammer—right here, right now.

That is, until a foreboding cracking noise brought his attention away from you. It took a few seconds for him to locate the source. The Colossal Titan.

It’s bones snapped and ground against one another, it’s massive body slowly shifting like a collapsing skyscraper. It twisted, turned, and groaned until it slowly lost it’s iron grip on the wall—and it was heading straight for Eren.

It’s body collided with Eren, and the force of the impact was comparable to that of an earthquake. Smoke rose from the ground as dirt was upended, trees crackling and snapping as chunks of rock flew up and around from the impact area.

The force of the impact sent you flying through the air. It didn’t take any hesitation, though, for your girlfriend to go flying through the air, catching your bloody body in her arms and wrapping herself around you to keep you safe as she hit the ground and slid against the dirt.

She groaned audibly from the pain, gritting her teeth in a feeble attempt to numb the painful sensations. But, her pain suddenly subsided when she laid eyes on you.

Your lower half had been all but obliterated. Your legs were completely crushed and squeezed out like an old container of toothpaste, and blood gushed from your stomach. She tried in vain to ignore the sight of your snapped bones twisting at odd angles and protruding through your skin.

Panicked, she brought an ear to your chest, desperately searching for that steady rhythm of life beating in your chest.

She had never taken a deeper sigh of relief than she did now, overjoyed at the slow heartbeat you clung onto. It was weak, yes, but you were still here. With her. That’s all that mattered.

Steam slowly rose from your stomach as your body attempted to heal your wounds. Even in a situation like this, your body managed to find the strength to start recovering.

She cradled your body to her chest, sobbing out in both relief and distress as you bled out onto her. Her clothes were already stained red, and her hands were sticky with morbid crimson, but she didn’t care. She held you close, as close as you could possibly be without her physically crushing you, catching her breath and calming herself to the sound of your shallow breaths.

It was a short-lived moment, though, as a dark shadow suddenly covered the ground, and Sasha froze with fear with you in her arms. By the shadow alone, it was impossible to tell if it was Eren or Reiner, and she didn’t want to check. She curled around you, crying quietly in preparation of getting crushed.

But it didn’t happen. A large finger instead placed itself on Sasha’s shoulder, pushing her out of the way to observe your injured state. Her body trembled fearfully as she turned to face it, and was met with the Armored Titan.

She wasn’t sure what to expect next, really. It could’ve crushed her like an ant and ran away with you, or worse, separated her and run off with just you.

She didn’t want to be apart from you. Even if it made her a terrible soldier, even if it made her treasonous, dishonorable, and irredeemable, she would stick with you, no matter whose side you were on. Right or wrong, she was staying with you.

Reiner hesitated for a moment. He couldn’t just bring a Paradis soldier back, it would be a huge problem down the line. But, his eyes glanced to you. He was certain that if he left Sasha there without you, you would never have forgiven him.

So, he cut his losses and gently scooped the two of you up in his hand, holding you and her close to his chest as he started running—god knows where to. She caught a glimpse of a Bertholdt in his other hand, as well as Ymir, still unconscious and strapped to her stretcher.

And Eren. Somehow, Reiner had the severely injured and incapacitated shifter quite literally in the palm of his hand.

Sasha knew that once people slowly started waking up, the fighting would only continue, but she savored this moment. Even if you were bleeding and hurt, your face looked peaceful. As odd as it sounded, she felt content with you in this moment.

As Reiner ran further and further from the wall, Sasha glanced over his shoulder, watching as the faces of her former comrades as they faded into the background.

I wish somebody cared for me the way Sasha cares about Y/n in this fic lmaooo

[fettsvette]

Comfort Care

Your monthly visitor has you feeling miserable, and Jango wants to take care of you.

Pairing: Jango Fett x Reader Words: 2.2k Rating: Teen Warnings: Mentions of menstruation and sex

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

  Mando’a terminology

  cyare - beloved

 mesh’la - beautiful

keldabe - affectionate headbutt/forehead press

manda - Mandalorian spiritual concept/version of the afterlife, and/or collective soul of the Mandalorian people

    -

  “I’m back, cyare. ”

  The bedroom door cracked open and whitish light from the hallway flooded in, causing you to wince and hunker down further into the nest of blankets you had built for yourself, the only reprieve from the blast of brightness being the form of your lover standing in the doorway, solid and sure. Jango Fett padded further into your shared bedroom, still in his armor, his head cocked quizzically. This wasn’t your normal reaction to his greeting after being away on so long of a hunt. He’d been anticipating a cry of surprise, followed by you leaping into his arms at a full run to pepper him with kisses. Instead, he’d been hailed with a vague stirring of blankets, and a quiet grunt, although he wasn’t sure if you’d made that noise, or if it had been the door creaking.

  “Are you alright, love? I expected a better welcome than that, I’ve been gone for almost a month.” Jango questioned, trying to hide the concern in his voice. He was surprised to find you already in bed at this hour, especially when he’d sent a messenger droid ahead of the Slave I to alert you that he was on his way back to you. His question was met with another grunt - yes, it had definitely been you, not the door - and he stifled a chuckle at the sound as he moved towards you, his helmet tucked under his arm. He suddenly had a feeling of what may be ailing you, based on how long it had been since he’d left, and he had to admit that your theatrics concerning this particular subject always amused him.

  “Everything hurts and I’m dying .” You retorted grumpily, gingerly rising to a sitting position in the bed and grimacing as you were hit with another wave of cramps in your lower belly and groin. Your cycle had just started earlier in the evening, and while you had been anticipating Jango’s arrival home from Ord Mantell for some time now, and knew he was due to return thanks to the messenger he had sent, you were exhausted and had wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and sleep off the worst of the cramping. Jango would be there when you awoke in the morning, and hopefully you would be feeling better at that point in time. But now here he was, in the middle of the night, bursting into your bedroom and jarring you from your rest. There was no way you could be upset with him, though; you’d missed him dearly while he way away, worried over him constantly while he tracked down his bounty - a Bith musician who’d tried to exit his lifetime performing contract with a Falleen nobleman a bit early - and now, as you gazed pathetically at him from your spot in the bed, the slight quirk of his lips and arch of his eyebrows made your heart ache for him.

  Jango’s brows lifted at your whining, and he nodded curtly, almost to himself. You didn’t know how, but sometimes you thought he knew you better than you knew yourself.

  “Ah, I see… I had a feeling that an unwelcome visitor had just dropped by. I can assure you that you’re not dying, though. What do you need of me, mesh’la ?” Jango asked, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile even further, and you felt yourself flush at the soft rasp of his voice. You knew he was implying either of two things, perhaps both - a bit of tender care and company in your afflicted state, or something of a more carnal nature. Jango didn’t mind having sex when you had your period - if anything he seemed to enjoy how much more sensitive and hot and slick you were, and he took pride in the fact that he could make you feel so much better just by fucking you - but he’d been gone for so long, and you were grouchy and tired, and all you wanted was to feel safe in his embrace, more than anything else.

  “Take care of me?” You asked softly, pulling the blankets up around your chin and giving your lover what you hoped was your best pleading expression. You heard just how pathetic and needy your voice sounded, but you didn’t care - you knew that Jango loved taking care of you, and you adored just how gently he could treat you, especially after having just returned from a hunt. Jango’s expression softened further as soon as the words left your mouth, and your heart skipped a beat. Your begging had the desired effect after all. 

“ As you wish . I’ll be right back, darling. Let me get this armor off and jump in the sonic, I don’t think you want me sharing your bed when I’m this sweaty.” He gave you a mock bow that made you giggle, and stepped back out into the hall, looking back over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner to the refresher and giving you a coy wink. You heard the familiar clunking sounds of his Mandalorian armor being deposited on the closet floor shortly afterwards, followed by the soothing vibrations of the sonic shower in the adjacent room. You reclined against the pillows once more, trying to ignore the contracting muscles in your abdomen, and waited for your love to rejoin you, anticipating feeling his arms around you.

  This man you had built a life with was one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy, and you couldn’t believe just how threatening and terrifying and downright mean he could appear when he needed to, but the quiet strength he exuded when the two of you were alone was such a comfort. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have this secret side of Jango Fett all to yourself, and you never planned to take it for granted.

  -

  “Room service…” You hadn’t even realized you’d dozed off until the call and soft knock came from the doorway, and you sat back up, grinning at your lover’s snide comment. Jango stepped back into your bedroom, nudging the door open with his foot and carrying two clay mugs and a piping hot carafe of something that smelled absolutely delicious. You couldn’t help but perk up when you realized it was your favorite warm drink, Deychin tea. There hadn’t been any in the flat when you’d last checked, and your heart flipped in your chest when you realized he must have picked some up for you while he was away. Jango seemed to be the only one who knew how to prepare it exactly the way you liked it, anyway. You thankfully took the mug after he’d poured some tea for you, blowing on the liquid and taking a small sip, humming delightedly to yourself as you felt the warmth spread down into your belly, and throughout your body. Jango sat on the bed next to you and poured himself a cup, taking several sips himself before placing the carafe and mug on the nightstand. You took a moment to drink him in - his close-cropped curls, those dark eyes, the hard set of his jaw, the scars that freckled his skin. All these years later, and he was still the most ruggedly handsome man you’d ever seen in your life. He was dressed comfortably in a simple woven tunic that dipped to expose his broad chest, and a pair of worn grey sweatpants slung low around his hips, and you shivered from desire despite yourself. You really didn’t know how you’d managed to bag such a gorgeous specimen of a man, yet here he was. 

  “My poor girl…” Jango cooed softly, the teasing tone in his voice not unnoticed, and you leaned your head down to bump against his shoulder like a felinx desiring a scratch behind the ears from its owner. He laughed at your antics, a low rumble that always sent a delicious chill up your spine, and turned to face you, plucking the mug from your hands and setting it on the table next to his own. Without another word, he pulled back the blankets and settled himself underneath them next to you, and slung one muscular arm around your shoulders, guiding you to lay your head against his chest, which you did gladly. You sighed contentedly at the heat Jango always seemed to radiate, and reached up to intertwine your fingers with his over your shoulder, smiling to yourself at just how small he made you feel, his hand in yours. His fingers were scarred and rough after years of working with weaponry and fixing machinery, but you loved how reassuring they felt against your skin. Jango cupped his other hand against your cheek briefly as you made yourself comfortable against him, then trailed it down to rest against your lower belly, directly over your uterus, and gently kneaded the soft flesh there. 

  You couldn’t help but let out a satisfied groan at the warmth radiating from his hand through to the cramping muscles, as well as the pressure his deft fingers applied to the aching area, and you relaxed further into him, feeling like putty in his arms. You lifted your chin to look into his eyes, and were met by that same searching, brooding expression, his lips slightly pursed in a quiet smirk, and Jango leaned forward to capture your mouth in his, never once ceasing his ministrations as he kissed you, only breaking away to leave a trail of them against your cheek, the tip of your nose, and your forehead, followed by a proper keldabe that ended too soon for your liking.

  Your face felt hot where his stubble had brushed against your skin, and you relished in the knowledge that you’d be able to feel the ghost of his kisses for hours afterwards. Jango released his other hand from your grasp and circled it around your waist, hugging you closer to him and turning you so that you laid on your side, pressed against his abdomen. You winced slightly as the change of position and the absence of his hand against your tummy ignited another volley of cramps, but once you were pressed firmly against his body, the heat coming off him in waves was more than enough to sate your aches and pains. 

  “That’s my good girl, letting me take care of you like this…” Jango rumbled affectionately, and you whined softly in response at his praise, burying your face against his tunic and wrapping your arm around his waist, hastily throwing one leg over his own for good measure. Jango let out a small ‘ oof ’ at your unexpected cuddle, tensing for a moment as he adjusted to your grip on him, but quickly chuckled and hugged you tighter. He adored just how needy you could be for him sometimes, especially after he’d been away for a lengthy period of time, or when you weren’t feeling well. 

  “Are you feeling a bit better now that I’m here, my love?” Jango whispered against your hair, and you swore you could feel him smiling against you. His smiles were so rare, so beautiful, and it made your heart ache to know that you were the cause of the sheepish grin you knew crossed his normally stern features. You wanted to sit up, hold that face between your hands and kiss his lips so deeply, so earnestly, but you were much too tired to make the effort, and knew your man would be there in the morning when you woke up. You always stirred after dawn broke to the feeling of Jango’s arms around you, if you were fortunate enough to have him home with you.

  “You have no idea, Jango. Thank you…” You murmured sleepily, nuzzling your nose against his collarbone and sighing blissfully as Jango’s long fingers carded through your hair, his free hand smoothing up and down the curve of your back, tracing patterns over the thin material of your sleep shirt. It wasn’t long before the steady, strong rhythm of Jango’s heartbeat, as well as the rise and fall of his chest against your cheek, helped you drift off into a deep sleep, your fist still clutching at the soft material of his shirt, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

  As Jango watched you sleep, he felt a surge of affection for you make its way through his body. He didn’t think he would ever truly understand why you loved him so deeply after all he’d done in his career, why you were so comforted by his touch or mere presence alone, but the way you looked now, asleep and completely at peace in his arms after such a fitful start to your evening, offered the realization that maybe he didn’t have to understand. He loved you something fierce, and you loved him desperately in return, despite everything, and perhaps that would always be enough. 

  Jango Fett leaned his cheek against the crown of your hair and sent a whispered prayer of thanks to the manda for allowing him to come home safely to you, time and time again.

  Thank the stars for small favors.

[obwjam]

I don’t know why I didn’t do this before, but if you’re still writing marvel g/t could you do another Scott lang one or Bruce Banner one? Maybe x hurt!tiny? They’re both so underrated and are amazing characters. I love your writing 🙂

i’ll do you one better anon: what if i did scott AND bruce with a tiny? yeah i think i’ll go with that

———-

Bruce Banner’s morning started out normal, which maybe should have been his clue that things were going to go spectacularly off the rails. All was quiet at the Avengers complex upstate -- Tony was at some tech conference, Clint and Nat were doing spy business, Thor was in some other realm, Vision and Wanda were cooped up in their rooms upstairs and Steve, Sam and Bucky were off sparring together in a completely different wing of the building. Bruce was on his way down to the lab, and Scott was upstairs, munching on chips and watching TV.

“Chips at 10 in the morning?” Bruce asked with a laugh.

Scott shrugged, stuffing another handful into his mouth. “There was nothing else!”

Bruce, who was standing in front of an open fridge full of food, raised an eyebrow.

“...Nothing else I wanted,” Scott said, his attention turning immediately back to the TV. “Oh my god. Look at that kitchen! Man, can those property brothers design or what! I wonder if I can get them to do my house.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and grabbed the energy drink he came for. It was going to be a long, restless day of calculations and experiments without Tony around to help.

It was just his luck that he would never even get to start.

You had stayed up all night borrowing. It was rare for the complex to be this deserted, but it was your one chance to stock up on everything you needed in one big trip -- food and water from the kitchen, pieces of soap from the bathroom, and everything else you could ever want from the lab downstairs. 

Everything was going great. Nobody had infiltrated the kitchen for a midnight snack. Someone had remembered to replace the soap. And the lab was stocked full of sharp metal for building, flat metal for creating, strings for hooks, and so many screws and nails and bolts. It took over a dozen trips up and down the tables to get everything, and you were just about finished when your greed got the best of you.

You were trying to stuff the most you possibly could inside your bags. They were overflowing. You were on your way down the leg of the table when a few pieces of metal started to slip out your bag.

“No no no no no...” you mumbled. The metal falling out of the bag wasn’t itself a big deal -- it was the noise it would make when it hit the ground that scared you. As you scrambled to stuff the metal back into the bag, your hold on your rope started to slip. You didn’t realize how tired you were until right now, and what turned into you trying to pull yourself up became your muscles giving out and your hand being unable to keep its tight grip.

You tumbled to the ground, which wasn’t that far away, but when you tried to stick the landing, your legs tangled up and you crumpled down. The metal clattered everywhere, making you wince. You waited a moment. No human. Okay. They must not have heard. You sat up, using your arms as support behind you, but when you went to stand, pain shot through your leg and you fell right back down.

Your stomach fell. “No… nononono, this can’t be happening…” 

You forced yourself to stand, keeping your right leg completely straight and dragging it along as you shuffled to the table leg for cover. “No, I gotta get out of here. I can’t--”

You froze at the sound of Bruce bounding down the stairs, cracking open his drink and taking a big sip before slamming the can down on the nearest table. He blinked. Did he just... hear a whimper?

His eyes scanned the room. You were moving as fast as you could, but adrenaline could only push you so far. Your leg throbbed in pain and you cried out as you fell back to the ground again. Your shaking hand flew to your mouth. I’m done for.

Okay, he definitely wasn’t hearing things. That sounded like someone yelling. He took cautious steps forward, hoping not to make too much noise so he didn’t startle whatever he was hearing.

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as the giant started walking toward you, clearly looking for something he had heard. He stopped walking almost right on top of you, and you couldn’t help but gawk up at him towering above you like a skyscraper. The mere thought of being discovered by the human was enough to induce tears, which you desperately tried to push away as you got back up and started moving again.

Bruce heard a choppy breath and froze. That sounded close... but he was standing in the middle of the room. Nothing was behind him, in front of him or beside him... so the only option was... below him.

He looked down and gasped. He had no idea what he was looking at, but he suddenly felt sick. “Holy shit…” he whispered, putting his hands on his knees and leaning down. As soon as he uttered those words, you whipped your head up and around to meet his gaze. For a moment, he was surprised. He felt an influx of nerves when the tiny person stared at him, completely shocked. They looked terrified. 

“H-hey, little guy--” he tried, but you had already turned around and started limping toward the table. Wait… limping.

Bruce, for his part, couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He watched as you ducked behind the cover of the table leg. You knew it wasn’t going to help, but you just needed to get behind something so you could sit down and feel like you were hiding. Bruce felt a pang of pity. Not only was this little thing hurt, they were terrified of him.

“Um...” Bruce couldn’t even begin to formulate words in his head. He bent down, getting on his hands and knees and crawling to the side so he could fully see you. When you locked gazes, Bruce almost looked more nervous than you did. Your whole body was shaking. That’s when he noticed.

“Your leg… it’s bending all the wrong way,” he whispered, almost to himself. You blinked. Even if you wanted to say something, you couldn’t. You knew this giant -- this was one of the scientists who frequented the lab. He didn’t seem as… rough as the other one, but you were pretty sure this was the one who turned into a monster when he got angry. As if he wasn’t big enough already. 

He noticed how you flinched at his words. He felt his heart swell at the tiny movements, yet guilt pierced his stomach at seeing the pure terror you exuded.

“No, no, it--it’s okay,” Bruce stammered, holding his hands up. “Who... what are you?”

Your lips were trembling. How were you even supposed to answer that?

“You’re right. Bad question,” Bruce muttered as soon as he saw your facial expression. “You can understand me though, right?” 

Meekly, you nodded. Bruce smiled softly. “Good, good. Do you, uh... do you need help? Do you...” he trailed off. He took note at how your eyes seemed to be burning as you stared at him in horror. He tried to speak as slow as possible to not startle you any more than he already had.

“Do you have a name?”

Your words got caught in your throat. Part of you wanted to say, but another part stopped you from saying anything. You didn’t need his help. You’d be fine. As long as you could make it back to base...

Pain shot through your leg and you bit your tongue, trying desperately not to make a sound. Bruce stared as you contorted your face. It was clear you were in pain.

“H-here, let me…” he started, reaching his hand out toward you. On instinct, you yelped and scooted back, hugging the table leg for support. No. You couldn’t let him touch you. He would hurt you even more.

“Sorry, sorry!” He stared at your tiny, trembling form, his mind racing. How could he help you? If he were three inches tall and incapacitated on the ground, he wouldn’t want the help of a nervous giant either.

Maybe he couldn’t help, but someone small enough could.

“I’ll be right back!” he shot up, completely missing the way you winced back at his movement. “Don’t--stay right there!” You watched in confusion and fascination as he ran up the stairs. This was your chance! All you needed to do was get up, get your rope and hobble all… the… way… across the room…

Who were you kidding? You could barely even stand without falling right back down. You were trapped. The giant was obviously going to get a jar to put you in to show you off to all the weirdos who lived here. 

This is it, you thought as you began to cry. This is how it ends.

“Scott!”

Scott coughed on his chips and turned around in surprise. “Bruce?” he asked, but it came out sounding like Brrcsh.

“Get your suit.”

“What?”

“Your suit! Your costume. Your… Ant-Man thing.”

“Oh! That suit. What do you need it for?” Scott frowned. “You don’t want to take it apart, do you? Did Tony put you up to this?”

“What-- no! I’ll explain in a minute. Just go get it!”

“Okay, okay!” Scott folded his chip bag and ran upstairs. Bruce was pacing and tapping his finger on the counter when Scott came back down, helmet in hand.

“Wow. You change quick.”

“I’ve been working on it,” Scott grinned. “Now can you tell me what the hell you’re so worked up about?”

“You’re not gonna believe me,” Bruce started, “but down in the lab there’s a tiny person who’s badly hurt but I would hurt them even more if I tried to help and they’re pretty scared of me so I need your help to calm them down.”

Scott blinked, processing what he had just been told. Of all the things in the world that Bruce could have told him, the existence of tiny people wasn’t at all shocking. In fact, Scott had pondered this possibility many times while traversing the world as Ant-Man. Some things were way too conveniently set up for it to be a coincidence. But a tiny person here? In this giant complex full of temperamental superheroes? That was no place for someone so small.

“You really thought I wouldn’t believe you? You know my thing is shrinking, right?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Well, yeah, I-- you’re really just going to accept all that?”

“I can grow and shrink at the press of a button and you turn into a giant green rage monster when you stub your toe. Aliens attacked New York once. This is like, a three out of ten on the surprise scale.”

Bruce stared, waiting to see if Scott would say anything else. He didn’t.

“Well, will you help or not?”

“Of course I’ll help! I guess you need me to--”

“--yeah, if you could just--”

“--okay, okay. Here I go.” Scott slipped his helmet on, pushed the magic button and in an instant, he was three inches tall. Bruce laid his hand down and Scott jumped on, using his thumb for support as Bruce bounded back downstairs.

Your breath hitched when you heard booming footsteps coming back down the stairs. You wished so deeply that you could have escaped, but a part of you knew that could never happen. The giant would probably find you again, anyway. 

You quivered when the giant re-entered your vision. Why did he leave? Was he going to get help? You didn’t see any help. You didn’t see him carrying a jar, either.

That is, until Bruce took a knee next to you and lowered his hand. You gasped and your eyes went wide when a person wearing very odd clothes and a weird looking helmet hopped off his palm and kneeled down next to you.

“Hello! I’m Scott,” the person -- Scott -- said in a cheery demeanor. You didn’t know what was freaking you out more, the silhouette of the giant in the background or Scott sitting a foot away from you. He certainly looked like a borrower... but if there were other borrowers, you would have known about it. And no way a borrower would be hanging out with a bunch of humans. You couldn’t figure out who, or what, he was.

“It’s okay! Don’t freak out,” he said, scooting a bit closer. He felt a pang of guilt at the terrified expression on your face. “I’m--we’re here to help.” He gestured up at Bruce, who gave a small, awkward wave. “That’s Bruce. He’s gonna help us get off the ground. Can I help you up?”

You stared at him in disbelief. They… really wanted to help you?

“Here.” Scott stuck his hand out. You looked at it for a cautious moment before grabbing it and letting him do the hard work of hoisting you up.

“Ow!” you cried as Scott pulled. It was almost impossible to stand. Your face instantly flushed red when both Bruce and Scott shot you a look of surprise after hearing you speak.

“Hold on,” Scott said calmly. He slid his arm underneath your shoulder, acting as support while you tried the best you could to stay standing. You were leaning heavily on him to keep from falling as he stood up fully.

“You got it?”

You nodded, refusing to make eye contact. Your eyes were locked on your two bags beneath the table, scrap metal scattered everywhere. Scott followed your gaze.

“Is that your stuff?” he asked. You froze. You weren’t going to answer that. Scott took note. “Okay, well, we’re going to try and walk now-- woah!” One step forward and you instantly lost your footing. Your stomach dropped as he turned up to Bruce, who was watching intently. “Think you can give us a lift?”

“Oh--sure,” Bruce stammered. He was reluctant to try and bring his hand close to you again. 

“No!” you blurted, instantly regretting it. Scott turned to you.

“No? Why not?”

“B-because…” you tried, but your words failed you when you looked up at Bruce. He was gigantic. One wrong move and he could break you even more than you were already broken. “I…”

“Hey, it’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you. He doesn’t look like it, but he’s really gentle, I promise.”

“Hey!” Bruce protested.

“What? You should see what you look like from down here, man,” Scott shrugged. You were shaking, and Scott could feel it. “You can close your eyes if you want. We just gotta get you off the ground. It’s not safe here.”

You sighed. You knew you had to do this, but it certainly didn’t make it any easier. Following Scott’s advice, you squeezed your eyes tight as you felt the sudden push of a large mass behind you. Knowing this was Bruce’s hand, your arm tightened around Scott’s back as you fell down into his palm, legs dangling as he very slowly stood up. Scott didn’t blink, but even with Bruce going slow, the speed was still dizzying to you. 

Bruce was trying his best not to shake. Not only was he holding Scott, but he had this very hurt, very scared tiny stranger at his mercy, too. This is not how he thought he’d be spending his day.

He gently lowered his hand to the table, but you were in no position to merrily jump off. Scott took instant notice.

“Hold on, let me go get something for you,” he said. You blinked in shock as he jumped off the table and… grew… to full size. This human could shrink himself? Or was he a borrower that could grow? You had never seen him here before.

“Scott! Where are you going?” Bruce asked nervously.

“Just going to get his,” he said, grabbing a clean cloth from a nearby table. He folded it neatly next to you and in an instant, he was tiny again. Were you in so much pain that you were hallucinating?

“Sit on this,” he said, gently lifting you from your spot on the edge of Bruce’s hand to the cloth. You flopped down, grateful to have some soft support for your aching body. Scott took a seat next to you, and Bruce pulled up a chair and bent down to get his face to your level. You eyed him nervously.

“I hope after all this, you feel like you can tell us your name,” Scott smiled. 

You kept your eyes trained on the ground. “I’m… I’m (Y/n),” you said shyly. 

“That’s a nice name,” Bruce said, quietly this time. He frowned when you didn’t even look at him. “What… why are you here? I-in the lab? What happened?”

“I…” you couldn’t believe what was happening. Were you really about to give your whole life story to a giant you met five minutes ago? Well, giants, but one of them was choosing not to be big around you. That had to count for something. And Bruce had gone up to get his help, just to make sure you were okay…

“I-I’m… I live here,” you said so softly, you didn't think Bruce could hear. “In the complex. This is my home. I was… gathering supplies. I--I didn’t want anyone to h-hear me, but… I slipped off my rope going down the table.”

“Oh, man,” Scott muttered. He looked over to where Bruce had spotted the tiny rope contraption. He couldn’t believe he was looking at a shoelace tied to a paper clip. 

“This is what you use to get around?” he asked, pinching the paper clip between his fingers and holding it up. 

“Yeah,” you said sheepishly. It was almost scary how small your rope looked when he held it.

“That’s incredible,” Bruce breathed. “I--I mean, the ingenuity to create something like this, and-and actually use it to climb up and down? That’s really impressive.”

You blushed. He genuinely sounded impressed. “Th-thanks,” you mumbled. 

“What do you need all that scrap metal for?” Scott asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him. 

“Uhm… I use it to… build stuff,” you said plainly. “And to like, cut things and… you know.”

“That’s so cool,” Scott said with a smile. “I don’t think I could ever do what you do. You know, climb up tables and sneak around? Well, I mean, I do do that…” he stopped when he saw your confused expression. “I could never do it for a living, is what I mean.”

“How do you… you know, eat? Or bathe?” Bruce asked.

You shrugged. “I, uh, I just take whatever I can find. Stuff you guys won’t notice is gone.”

“That’s… wow.” Bruce was beside himself. This tiny person was living an entire life out under their noses every single day and he was none the wiser. As happy as he was to have made this discovery, he was even happier at the fact that you weren’t nearly as tense and scared as you were before. “I--I have so many questions!”

You knew the human would want to know everything, but the thought of answering a million questions about your secret life still freaked you out. You gave Scott a nervous glance. He instantly understood.

“Well hey, why don’t we try and patch up your leg and bring you upstairs for some breakfast?” Scott turned to Bruce. “Can we do that? Can we give breakfast to tiny strangers?” 

Bruce smirked. “We can do whatever we want. As long as (Y/n) is okay with it.”

“I can make my world-famous San Fran-cakes!” Scott said excitedly. “Well, world famous might be a stretch. And I guess they’re just plain ol’ pancakes if I’m in New York--”

“Scott…”

“Right, right. Oh, and we could watch TV. Have you ever watched TV? You gotta see what the property brothers can do to a kitchen!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. No, you had never watched TV, and you didn’t know what a property brother was, but maybe now would be a good time to find out.

“(Y/n)?” Bruce had laid his palm down flat beside you. “We’ve got some gauze upstairs. I can try and make you a cast while Scott makes breakfast.”

You stared at his hand, and somehow, that crippling sense of fear you felt before was gone. Maybe it was all overwhelming, and you still didn’t feel like this was all real, but Bruce was kind and Scott had willingly made himself tiny just to calm you down. You were very glad it had worked.

Scott helped you up from the cloth and over to Bruce’s hand, where you situated yourselves between his thumb and held on tight for support. Bruce’s heart skipped a beat.

“Hold on, you two,” he said, slowly standing up. Scott was going on about something completely unrelated, and Bruce was smiling as he kept his hand perfectly steady. Bruce grabbed the cloth with his free hand and in an instant, the junkyard of a lab was just a background. You had never seen it from this angle before. It looked massive and uninviting.

You were glad to leave it behind. Whatever San Fran-cakes were, you were more than excited to try them. 

[sooibian]

Catch These Hands

Pairing: Baekhyun x Fem!Reader

Description: Living with Baekhyun comes with its own challenges

Themes: Fluff (surprise!!!!), established relationship, make up artist and masseur Byun, a little bit of byuntae, and one (1) Eminem reference lol

Prompt: @/notyourenglishprofessor : You SAY you didn’t eat in bed but these crumbs say differently.

A/N: Happy Birthday @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt​ !!!! here’s your biggest pet peeve woven into a bbh fic! Hope you enjoy it XD

Word count: ~ 1.7k

Nights out have never agreed with you. It’s 2 a.m. and your feet hurt from the heels, your head hurts from the drinks, your little black dress (your best friend sure does have a penchant for party clichés) is mocking your food baby, your makeup feels clumpy - maybe you overused the setting powder but you wouldn’t know because the complex art of blending cosmetics has always eluded you. How do they make it look so easy in YouTube tutorials?

As you’re keying in the passcode to your apartment, despite all the malaise, a sudden surge of comfort courses through your veins at the thought of your adorable boyfriend asleep in a clean, cozy bed, engulfed in warm and fresh sheets that exude the fragrance of a spring meadow - courtesy of your brand new laundry detergent. You imagine he is dressed in his snuggly pajamas, with his lips slightly parted, dark hair tousled, and your ostrich plushie clutched to his chest. Ever since you started living with him, you’d never spent a night away from home but the one time you returned after a weekend long Neuroscience conference, you found your plushie resting in the comfort of his arms. The next morning he insisted that he didn’t know where it came from.  

‘Time to catch him red handed’, you smile to yourself.

Kicking off your heels and scraping your hair up in a bun, you tiptoe to your bedroom and the faint melody of Baekhyun singing in a highly expressive croon falls upon your ears.

Tell me you’ll love again, come back to me again..

He should’ve been long asleep and while you can’t wait to crash out either, you allow yourself the pleasure of eavesdropping on his heavenly vocals that always sound especially sweet when he’s wrestling sleep. Until..until you hear it.. the sharp crunch of plastic which sends you barging into the bedroom with exasperation painted across your features. 

Baekhyun clamps his mouth shut. 

Instead of jumping out of bed to wrap you in his arms, he uncharacteristically stays burrito-ed in his duvet, fixing you with an apologetic gaze. Elbow crushing the pillow underneath him, shoulders crouched, lips pursed, hair dishevelled, pajama bottoms scrunched up to his calves, he tries to blink away the very apparent guilt in his eyes. Your ostrich plushie lay on your side of the bed as if its neck had been snapped like a popsicle stick. 

As you loom over him, lower lip wobbling, he pushes his weight further down the pillow but the tail end of the red Orion choco pie wrapper teasingly peeks from underneath it, glimmering in the cozy golden lighting of the bedroom, already chuckling at the drama that is to ensue.

You’re too tired for this.

Without a word to him, you grab a bunch of blankets from the dresser, shut it with a loud bang and stomp out of the room while Baekhyun’s bearing is that of a frozen frame. As you’re questioning your life choices and are about to vent your frustration on the irreproachable couch, your weary gaze finds the bane of your existence again - crumbs. White, inelegant fragments of food conspicuous against your tan sofa.

They say the more you try to avoid something, the more you create it. This was unequivocally the worst quote you’d ever read. You created nothing! You were not the one to leave this slew of crumbs on the sofa neither did you leave a pile of crumbs on the bed! It was all Baekhyun! 

You’re way too tired for this.

Drowsy, you lie down on the floor, curled up in the many blankets, although still cautious as your piercing eyes doggedly probe for more evidence of Baekhyun’s insolence. Surprisingly, the rug was clean-ish. It was almost as if he had planned on you sleeping on the floor tonight. This thought fuels the rage bubbling in the pit of your stomach so you force your eyes shut to avoid a shouting match this late in the night. 

The shuffling sound of footsteps grows closer and you’re determined not to give him the satisfaction of even a glance. The sound comes to a halt and you feel a gentle caress of warm fingers ghosting over your cheeks which is quickly replaced with a smooth and cool touch of a cotton pad against your eyelids, cheekbones, jaw line, with a distinct scent of micellar water wafting in the little to no space between Baekhyun and you.

You continue to play dead as he’s quietly and deftly taking your makeup off while delicately holding you up by the back of your neck and you coyly move your face from side to side to allow him better access to every inch of your skin.

“Too much setting powder”, he whispers.

Darnit!

“Still so pretty”, he remarks in his dulcet voice. Your head now rests in his lap and he’s gently moving his thumbs in tiny circles under your brows, working his way from inside out and continuing the movement all around your eyes and ending back at the bridge of your nose, almost lulling you to sleep.   

At this point every cell in your body is waging a war against your now weakened spirit that’s continuing to disregard him yet you find yourself revelling in his mellow affections.

“It’s a rookie mistake. Not to worry, baby, I’ll help you get it right the next time.” He reassures, planting a soft kiss on your pout.

“Right”, eyes still wilfully shut, you chastise him, “maybe when you find the time from eating in bed.”

“Yah! Don’t be like that.” Baekhyun whines, prying your eyes open with his fingers, not-so-gently.

You smack the back of his hand and sit up cross legged facing him. He stretches his hand out to pat your head and you smack it again invoking a look of pure confusion in Baekhyun’s soft features. His hand is now barely an inch away from your lips and he commands with a raised brow, “Now kiss it better.” 

“Ew!” Your hand strikes the back of his, again. “How many times do I have to tell you not to -”

“Not to eat in bed!” Baekhyun completes your sentence with a deep sigh, “I know and I wasn’t -”

“Do not lie to me Byun Baekhyun!” Warning him, you wag your finger as annoyance betrays your voice, rendering your pitch shrill. Dusting the corners of his mouth with the pads of your fingers, you sneer, “These crumbs say otherwise. You know I hate it when you eat in bed! It’s ...It’s….disgusting! And -”

“And?” 

“You always ignore my post-its!”

Baekhyun huffs and runs a hand through his hair. Letting on a forced smile, he reasons, “We’ve been living together for three years now. I think it’s time you stopped leaving ‘do not eat’ post-it notes on everything you buy!”

Tilting your head to the side, you explain animatedly, “First of all, you won’t let me buy snacks on our grocery runs because they’re unhealthy or whatever and you want to bring about a stupid dietary reform in the household which, by the way, is failing miserably - ”

“Yah!! We’re still in January, don’t be such a pessimist!”

“Do not interrupt me! The few that I do manage to sneak into the cart are mine and mine alone!”

“It’s just that..the ones that you buy taste better”, he mumbles, unveiling the most powerful weapon in his artillery - the pout.

“That is the most ridiculous thing that’s come out of your mouth today aside from the crumbs! I imagined you’d be...”, it’s nearly 3 a.m. and you’re starting to descend into a fugue state, “you’d be...curled up in bed like a...like a... cooked shrimp with a plushie clutched to it’s chest!”

Visibly offended, he flicks your forehead and bellows, “Cooked shrimp!? It’s called the fetal position. Look it up!”

“I know what it’s called!” Your livid expression eases into a rather ill meaning smile, “My apologies, I took you for a grown man.”

“What in the world - I am a grown man!” His lips stretch into a wide grin and the tips of his fingers tease the sensitive spot on your neck, “would you like to see?”

“You’re disgusting, Byun Baekhyun! A grown man does not eat in bed!” You smack the back of his hand. Again.

“Strike four! You’re obligated to kiss it better now!” 

Tears start to well up in your eyes at the sight of his hand dangling so close to your face. “I’m tired”, you cry, burying your face in your hands as exhaustion and exasperation take over, “I really need you to stop eating in bed.” 

“Babe, I -” His eyes grow into large brown circles at the sight of your distressed state and he freezes.

“I feel like the crumbs will, like, turn into ferocious ants and nibble at my skin while I’m asleep”, you break into full blown sobs and Baekhyun takes you in his arms, holding you tight against his warm and comforting frame and patting your head to calm you down.

“Hush, baby”, he sing-songs, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! You go get changed into something comfortable and I’ll dust the bed, okay?”

“Can you change the sheets instead?” Sniffling, you ask him with wide, pleading eyes, a sly smile playing at your lips.

His eyebrows shoot upwards and he exclaims, “It’s three in the morn-”

“Please?” You sing-song, a little too loudly.

He lets out a deep sigh, “Okay! I’ll change the sheets.”

With his slightly dispirited face sandwiched between your hands, you ask cheerfully, “And you promise to never eat in bed again?” 

“I promise to never eat in bed again.” A dejected Baekhyun says to his knees. 

“And you won’t steal my snacks?”

You had now started to push your luck with him, but it was a risk you were willing to take.

He flicks your forehead a little harshly this time making you squeal. “Can you stop with the stupid post-its, already?”

Rubbing your forehead, you surrender and get up. “Fine! I’ll go shower now.”

Baekhyun wraps his arms around your waist. Nuzzling your neck, he coos seductively, "I’ll join you.” 

“Byun Baekhyun!”

[honeytae]

Is this the wife material you’ve been waiting for?

hello my lovies, happy wednesday! i hope you guys are having a great week, but if not...i’m here to provide you with some seokjin mega fluff. it’s got little actual plot to follow along with - however, i think it’s sweet, so hopefully you guys like it!

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy genre: fluff word count: 1.8k

Coughing as smoke billowed up off the pan, you tossed the lid to the side, eyes burning as you blinked them through the hot air of the oven space. 

“Shit.” You cursed as the fire alarm began beeping above your head, reaching for the dishtowel on your kitchen counter and, in a panic, jumping up to bat at the alarm in a desperate attempt to silence it. 

This was not how you wanted tonight to go. 

All you wanted was to make a nice meal for Seokjin to come home to. It was your anniversary, after all, and he’d been working all damn day. 

You already felt bad enough that your dinners were either takeout or something your boyfriend could whip up after work, since your inability to cook was absolutely hazardous to the building and the people in it, as Seokjin had lovingly informed you after you tried to cook the last time he wasn’t home. 

But even trying your hardest wasn’t enough, which was evident by the smoke exuding from the pot you’d desperately thrown into the sink to put cool water in, the blaring of the smoke alarms in your apartment, and the panicked “what the hell?” coming from your boyfriend as he walked through the front door.

The next thing you knew, he was directly beside you, arm still cradling his bag as he’d rushed in to the chaotic scene in the kitchen. His arm easily reached the smoke alarm on the ceiling, hitting it a few times before he successfully silenced it. 

Glancing around the kitchen with wide eyes, he returned his gaze to you, curled into yourself as you leaned against the counter in shame. 

“Hey,” he greeted briefly, “what happened?” He asked, his tone exasperated as he tried to piece together how the kitchen could’ve possibly gotten to this state in the amount of time he’d left to retrieve some clothes he’d left in the practice room the other night. 

“I can’t fucking do this.” You whimpered, your tone causing Jin’s eyes to soften immediately as he reached forward to pull you into his arms, his palm cradling your head against his shoulder as his other hand landed on the window, pulling it up to allow some smoke out of the hot room. 

You sniffled into his chest as he hushed you, mumbling sweet words to calm you as your fingers clung onto his shirt. 

“Okay, it’s okay. Come with me, love.” His warm voice soothed into your ear, you wordlessly following his lead as he guided you out into the living room, allowing him to sit you down on the couch with a quick peck to your forehead. 

“I’m going to go clean up, then I’ll be right back. Okay?” He asked gently, rubbing at the top of your spine as you nodded slowly. 

“I’m sorry.” You said, not knowing what else to say as the sweet man who’d just stepped in the door was about to clean up another one of your messes. And, not to mention, figure out an alternate dinner plan.

You kept your eyes on the ground as Jin dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands placed on your own as he dipped his head to try to catch some eye contact. 

“Hey, none of that, sweetheart. You don’t need to apologize.” He soothed, rubbing his palm up your thigh before his hands went to your own, picking up your fingers one by one to inspect them. 

“You’re fine, right? No burns or other injuries?” He questioned, you shaking your head in response and causing him to hum in approval. 

“Good. Because guess what? That’s all that matters.” He said, causing you to sigh as you lifted your head to finally look at him. 

“What if I told you I burnt your favorite pan beyond repair?” You mumbled, the man shaking his head with a purse of his lips.

“I don’t care. Pans are replaceable.” He said, threading his fingers through your hair to push it back behind your ear as you huffed a breath past your lips. 

“I’m still sorry.” You pouted, the man’s features crumbling into a chuckle as he shook his head, rubbing at your shoulder with a comforting palm. 

“You’re so silly to think I’d care about a pan.” He teased you, causing you to crack a smile as you met his eye for the first time since his entrance. 

“I care about the pan. And I’m buying you another one, whether you like it or not.” You quipped, Seokjin’s shoulders shaking as squeaky chuckles escaped his mouth. 

“Silly.” He said before leaning in to press his lips to the tip of your nose. 

“Now you sit here and look pretty while I clean up.” He directed you, coming to a stand with a point of his finger, leaving it up at you as he backed out of the room. 

You giggled at his actions, his eyes remaining on you challengingly until he rounded the corner of the kitchen doorway, at last obscuring your view of the man. 

Sighing, you looked around the living room, thinking of what you could possibly do to make it up to him. Him. The man you’d been with for four years today. Grunting, you stood up to further examine the room, opening drawers and cabinets to inspect their contents as your brain whirred with ideas. 

Spotting the collection of candles you stashed away for special occasions, you quickly snatched them into your hands, shutting the door behind you and setting out for the hallway closet.

Grabbing the table runner, you hastily ran to the dining room, lining the table with the fabric and placing the candles inches apart from each other to make an evened out display. 

Sneaking into the kitchen in search of matches, you thanked your lucky stars that Seokjin had his back to you with the faucet running, as he could no longer see or hear you when you snatched the flame starters in their little carton from one of the drawers. 

Scratching the wood against the strip on the box, you lit a match to hopefully light all of them, dipping the flame down into the glass candle cases and continuing the action with each one. 

“What happened to sitting still and looking pretty, love?” 

You nearly jumped at the sudden arrival of Jin’s voice from behind you, turning around with a small smile as he leaned against the wall across the room from you. 

“That’s your job, Jinnie. Come over here and sit.” You directed him, the man’s face contorting into a beautiful full smile as he pushed himself off the wall to make his way over to you. 

Pausing his steps, he instead stood in front of you, his eyes checking out the details of the table you’d built in his absence.

“Cooking is a definite no.” You sighed, turning to look back at your handiwork with a gesture of your hand to the simple decorations you’d put on the previously blank surface.

“But setting the table,” you started, Seokjin raising his eyebrows in amusement, “that I can do.”

Your boyfriend chuckled in response, bringing a smile to your face as he gripped your hand in his to pull you into his chest. 

“I love you.” He cooed, your nose scrunching up in response at the sudden affectionate tone he used before you repeated the sentiment back to him. 

“This is actually really good.” He admired the table again, making you scoff at the man’s amazement at the simplest candles lined up on a runner. 

“Why don’t you set the tables at our wedding?” He asked abruptly, making your chest erupt in butterflies at the mere idea of marrying the man in front of you.  

“I can make that happen,” You agreed, “but there’s going to have to be some kneeling and a ring first.” You teased, the man’s lips curling into another smile before his face faded into a more serious expression. 

“Okay.” He said simply, confusing you as he stared back at you. 

“Okay?” You chuckled, face falling when he wordlessly dug a hand into his jean pocket, producing a small black box between his fingers. 

Your mouth dropped open at the sight, widened eyes meeting his own as his pupils seemed to trace your features. 

“Jin.” You whispered, allowing him to hold your hand in his with a pounding heart. 

“You alright with this?” He asked in just as soft of a voice, you nodding eagerly in response as you grinned at him. 

“Is nearly burning our entire building down what you’re into? Is this the wife material you’ve been waiting for?” You chuckled through your shock, the man’s eyes crinkling as he giggled.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He smiled, lifting your hand to his face to press kisses to each one of your knuckles, holding you appendages in his as he lowered himself to his knee.

”I love you so much. Kitchen fires and all.” He teased, squeezing your hand in his as you giggled down at him. 

“You are absolutely the only one I want, forever. You’re the only person I want to share my bed with, the only human I want to be close to all the time, the only one I ever want to burn all my pans.” 

At his last addition to the speech, you chuckled, bowing your head for a moment as your cheeks heated up before lifting your gaze to smile back at him. 

“You make my life so full.” He whispered, the tenderness in his words causing a tear to trickle down your cheek before reaching up to swipe at it with your thumb. “Please marry me.” He continued, making your eyes prick with more tears at those words you knew were coming, yet not emotionally prepared at all to hear them fall from his lips directed at you. 

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” You chuckled in bewilderment, Seokjin smiling so big that you could for the first time through the ordeal see the tears brimming in his eyes. 

Vision blurring with more unshed tears, you barely registered Seokjin slipping the ring snug onto your fourth finger before you were desperately tugging him up from the ground into a hug. 

He only got halfway up off the floor before you were seated on his thigh, his opposite knee supporting his weight as it remained down on the ground. Your fiancé easily intercepted your frame with a watery chuckle, rubbing his palm up and down your back as he lightly swayed your bodies back and forth. 

“Oh my god, I love you so much.” You spoke into his shoulder, sniffling as you only slightly pulled your face out from where you’d tucked it into his shirt. 

“I love you so much.” He spoke tenderly, swiping his thumb underneath your eye to catch a fallen tear with an adoringly smile. 

“We’re getting married.” You wept, Seokjin squeezing you to him with a sniffle as he nodded.

“We’re getting married.”

[cooliogirl101]

So how do Hashirama and Hisana meet again?

"This is why I hate treating ninja," Hisana grumbled, sweat dripping down her face as she struggled to keep the unconscious shinobi from falling off Carrot. "Even half-dead, they refuse medical assistance."

She'd managed to heal him enough that he was no longer in immediate danger of dying. Still, she was running low on chakra herself and with the ninja's own chakra fighting her every step of the way...

She paused to catch her breath.

"I really hope I'm going the right way," she muttered, looking at the identical-appearing trees around her. The ninja had been stumbling in this general direction when she'd found him and she could sense residual traces of chakra on the trees in front of her, lighting her way like trail markers-- suggesting that this was a fairly well traveled shinobi path-- but...well, only time would tell if she was leading him home or straight to an enemy clan.

Still, with her own chakra reserves running low like this, she didn't have the capacity to heal him herself, and he would definitely die in the next few hours if he didn't get proper treatment. Which meant if she wanted to save him, she'd have to either bring him home, or--

She paused, going still as she suddenly sensed two presences behind her.

Or run into a shinobi patrol.

"Please tell me he's one of yours," she said, closing her eyes. "I've spent the past four hours trying to get him home, and I'm going to be really upset if he ends up dying now."

There was a brief silence, then she felt a gust of wind against her face. Opening her eyes, she turned around to see two ninja-- one male, one female-- standing behind her, the unconscious ninja now slung over the female ninja's back.

"You," the woman spoke up, expression unreadable. Her long brown hair was tied up into an elegant knot, bangs covering one half of her face. "You're that civilian healer, aren't you? The one who always shows up after a battle."

"Didn't realize I was that well known, but yes," Hisana replied. The kunoichi’s eyes narrowed.

"How did you find this place?" She asked tersely. Hisana glanced around.

"Isn't this a path?" She asked, confused. "I thought that's what the chakra markers were for."

"You're a civilian, though. You shouldn't be able to sense those," the male ninja spoke up for the first time, scrutinizing her closely. He couldn't look more different from the woman, with strikingly white hair and red markings on his face. "I'd heard rumors that you could use chakra, but I hadn't believed--" He cut himself off. "Who taught you?"

"I taught myself," Hisana said, starting to get a little annoyed now. "Look, I only came here to get my patient help. You two look like decent enough help. So if that's all, I'll just be on my way--"

"Not so fast," the male ninja said smoothly, stepping forward. "Given that you brought our clan member back to us, the least we could do is repay you with a warm meal before you go."

"You made it this far into our territory, you may as well meet the rest of the family," the female ninja added, eyes glinting. Hisana glanced at Carrot for a second. She wasn't stupid-- she knew just how precarious her situation was right now.

Her gaze flickered towards the shinobi slumped over the male ninja's back.

That being said, it hadn't sat well with her to just leave him in the care of someone else, without ensuring that he'd recovered.

"Alright," she acquiesced. "But the donkey stays with me."

~~

"You can't make that thing go any faster?" The white-haired ninja asked impatiently. The female ninja had already vanished, her injured comrade in tow, leaving the male ninja to be her guide.

"Look," Hisana said irritably. "I told you that I wasn't going to leave Carrot behind. You agreed, so I don't know what you're complaining about."

He scoffed.

"Carrot? Should have named it Stick," he said. Hisana had actually had the exact same thought multiple times before, but like hell if she was going tell him that.

"She's trying the best she can. Don't be so critical," Hisana defended instead, patting Carrot on the neck. "We can't all move at super speed."

"I'd settle for moving at regular speed at this point," the ninja muttered under his breath. "I can't believe you're a healer. At this rate, half your patients would die before you got out the door."

Had it not been near certain suicide, Hisana would have kicked him.

"Lucky you're not a healer, because half your patients would rather die than see you walk in the door," she retorted, which wasn't much better. He smiled coldly at her.

"You're rather brave for a civilian, aren't you?" He asked softly. Hisana swallowed, feeling the air around her grow...heavier, somehow. Suffocating.

Carrot's panicked whine broke her out of her thoughts and she immediately reached down, soothing her.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Hisana murmured, concentrating on exuding feelings of safety and warmth. "I'm here. You're safe, I promise. I'm here. You're okay."

It took a longer than it usually did, but gradually Carrot began to calm down.

"What technique was that?" The white-haired ninja asked, an odd note in his voice. Hisana took a moment to reply.

"It's not really a technique. You know that thing that mothers sometimes do, the way they exude their chakra to calm their babies down? This is like an amped up version of that." She smiled wryly. "I call it healing intent. Of course, it doesn't really do much to shield me from the effects of killing intent, but. Focusing on using it to calm someone else down? That helps."

"...you've experienced killing intent before," he said quietly. Was that a note of apology in his voice?

"Of course. You're far from the first shinobi I've encountered and as you mentioned earlier, I am very...brave." Her lips quirked up. "Be honest, you meant annoying, didn't you?"

"More along the lines of 'stupid,'" he informed her. "One day, you're going to end up offending the wrong person."

She grinned ruefully.

"I know, it's a flaw of mine. It hasn't proved to be a fatal one yet, thankfully. Normally I'm a bit more careful with my words, though." Hisana glanced at him, a teasing note in her voice. "Something about you is just special, I guess."

The shinobi let out a huff. If Hisana didn't know better, she could almost mistake it as laughter.

"So I've been told," he acknowledged before coming to a stop. "We've arrived."

"Huh," Hisana said, taking a look around. It looked...simultaneously very well fortified and impermanent, somehow. The kind of place that could withstand a siege, yet could be packed up and taken down in the span of an hour. She turned to the shinobi. "Hey, is there somewhere--"

"Hisana? Is that you?"

Hisana's eyes widened as she took in the sight of a very familiar figure approaching her, the expression of shock on his face mirroring her own.

"Hashirama?"

[miracleonice87]

I’ll Take Care of You, part two

a Tyler Seguin fic

a/n: this one’s from Peyton’s perspective. back in the fall when I first started writing fics again, I wrote part one in first person, which I don’t really do anymore, but I’m keeping that consistent for this one. read part one here first if you haven’t already. 

tw: fainting, mention of miscarriage/loss of pregnancy/infertility/periods

“Unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for this to occur with first pregnancies. It happens more often than you might think. It certainly doesn’t mean you won’t ever be able to have a baby. My rule of thumb is to let couples try to get pregnant again naturally for one year without any intervention. Then, if you’re still having difficulties, you can come back in and we can talk about other options.”

It had been eleven months since my doctor had spoken those words to Tyler and me following the miscarriage that had nearly broken us both.

Those eleven months had seen us try again and again each month with no success. I tracked my body temperature and ovulation cycle each and every day before even leaving bed. I’d completely removed alcohol and caffeine from my diet and monitored everything I put into my body, controlling every single factor I could possibly control.

And yet, on the thirteenth day — the unluckiest of days for multiple reasons — of each month, like clockwork, my period arrived. If Tyler was at home when it happened, I simply left the bathroom with a sorrowful shake of my head, curling into his waiting arms as he comforted me silently, holding me close, disappointment weighing heavily on us both. If he was on the road, I texted him only a “🔴” symbol, indicating that my monthly visitor had shown up unwelcome yet again. He replied each time with an, ”I’m sorry, sweetheart,” though he had nothing at all to apologize for.

My patience and determination, along with Tyler’s, were wearing thin. It was feeling more and more impossible to keep the faith — more and more unlikely that this would happen on its own.

I had all but given up hope.

But then...

The eleventh month arrived, and the thirteenth day of it came and went with no sign of my cycle. And then the fourteenth day. And then the fifteenth.

And with that, the smallest sliver of hope glimmered from out of the darkness in the depths of my heart.

But I wouldn’t allow myself to get too excited. With Tyler on a road trip to the East Coast, I barely slept those three nights, tossing and turning and wondering if I should take one of the numerous tests stuffed in the bathroom cabinet.

On the sixteenth, after Tyler had already left for morning skate, I decided it was time. Though I knew I couldn’t do it alone, I also couldn’t stomach the thought of waiting for Ty to return — let alone the thought of seeing his disappointment in the event of yet another negative test.

Thankfully, though, the sixteenth was a Friday — the day that Fanny, Klinger’s fiancée, and I had long ago set aside for morning yoga in my home gym. Fanny, now six months pregnant herself with her and John’s first baby, would arrive at 10 a.m., and I decided that that was as good a time as any to find out what was next for Ty and me — we would either finally start the family we’d always wanted, or it would be time for a different approach.

After greeting one another and stretching over small talk, Fanny carefully broached the topic that I had brought to her, heartbroken, so many times in the past year.

“So how have you been feeling?” she inquired gently from the mat next to mine, bending to the side for a new pose. “Are you on your cycle?”

From where I stood with my arms extended straight out, my face turned away from hers, I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and pondered what to say next.

“Well,” I began before clearing my throat, “That’s, um... I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

You pivoted to face Fanny, her pretty eyes now wide as saucers. Slowly, she stood up straight.

“Stop it,” Fanny whispered incredulously, joy etched in her expression.

I shrugged a bit. “I’m late,” I admitted softly. “But only by three days. And I haven’t taken a test-“

“Peyton!” Fanny warned through her giggles, hands finding her hips. “You have to!”

I smiled, appreciating my dear friend’s excitement for me while still feeling the familiar tightness of anxiety in my gut.

“I will,” I promised. “I seriously told myself I was gonna wait to do it while you were here. I couldn’t do it alone and I... if I’m not... well, I just can’t bear to see Ty’s reaction again…”

Fanny nodded solemnly. “Oh, sweetie. I understand,” she assured. “Maybe after we finish up? Or not. I mean, we can do it whenever you feel ready.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling overheated and attributing it to my frayed nerves.

“God, is it hot in here?” I asked, unzipping my lightweight jacket and throwing it aside, still fanning myself though I now wore only a sports bra and athletic shorts.

Fanny frowned, looking at my reflection in the mirrored wall in front of us. “No, I feel fine,” she said.

I tied my ponytail into a high bun to get the hair off my neck, noting a faint ringing in my ears as I placed my feet in position on the mat once more.

As I reached down for my toes, the ringing grew louder, and I suddenly saw stars in my vision.

With trembling hands, I wiped the sweat from my now-dripping brow and stood straight up, but apparently too quickly, as the room around me quickly fell from focus, darkness taking its place.

“Fan... I-I don’t feel good...”

Alarmed at the weakness of my voice, Fanny turned to face me and gasped.

“Babe, oh my god!” she exclaimed — the last thing I heard before everything faded to black.

_____

The next thing I heard as I came to was my husband’s voice, which sounded distant and faint. I moaned, squinting at the bright fluorescent lights above me as I realized that I was lying on my back on the floor, with Tyler’s face inches above mine. I opened my eyes slowly and heard him draw a deep breath, announcing, “She’s awake.”

I felt him cup my cheek tenderly as I offered a weak smile.

“Hi,” he breathed, relief heavy in his tone. “Hi, sweet girl. You scared us pretty good.”

“What happened?” I asked, confused by the hoarseness of my own voice. I moved to prop myself up on my elbows, but Tyler gently pushed my shoulders flat once more.

“Shh, shh, hey, don’t get up,” he instructed. “You passed out while you and Fanny were working out. Do you remember that?”

With a furrowed brow, I nodded. I saw Fanny standing behind Tyler, covering her lips with her fingers as she stared at me nervously.

“Oh god, Fan, I’m so sorry,” I murmured, still feeling weak and shaky.

Fanny shook her head and took a couple of steps forward, standing over Tyler’s shoulder. “Babe, no, don’t apologize,” she insisted. “I was just worried about you. Tyler came in the door just a minute after it happened but I had already called 911. I just didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, my eyes fluttering closed once more. “That’s okay,” I said softly.

Just then, there was a knock at the door upstairs, and Fanny hurried up the steps to answer it. I rolled my head to look at Tyler, who stared down at me with deep concern.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he promised, pushing some hair from my still-damp forehead. “We’re gonna get you checked out and see what’s going on, okay?”

I nodded as I heard footsteps coming back down the stairs, and two paramedics followed Fanny to where I lay, still on my yoga mat.

“Hey there,” one of them smiled. “I’m Maria, and this is my partner, Chris. You’re Peyton?”

I nodded as Maria knelt beside me, opposite Tyler, with Chris placing a medic kit on the floor next to him.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Peyton,” Maria said kindly. “How are you feeling right now?”

I cleared my throat, attempting to blink the fog away.

“Not as bad as I did a few minutes ago,” I half-joked. “But I still feel shaky, and hot.”

Maria nodded, pressing the stethoscope to my chest.

“Can you tell me what you’ve had to eat and drink today?” she asked.

“Um... I had two cups of coffee, a yogurt... and some water during yoga,” I replied.

“Okay,” Maria said as Chris took my pulse, with Tyler holding tight to my other hand and watching their every move. “Any history of fainting before this?”

I shook my head. “No, never,” I said.

“Any blood sugar issues? Diabetes, hypoglycemia?”

“No, nothing.”

“Are you currently on your period?”

My cheeks warmed. This certainly wasn’t the way I had planned to tell Tyler of our latest development.

“Um, n-no,” I admitted sheepishly, glancing at him. I could see the wheels beginning to turn in his mind even as he watched the paramedics instead of me.

“Any chance you could be pregnant?” Maria asked gently as she folded her stethoscope into her bag and reached for a blood pressure cuff.

Shit.

“Uh… actually, yeah.”

Immediately, Tyler’s head snapped toward me.

“Wait, what? Really?” he inquired, joy exuding from his whole being.

I simply shrugged, beaming. “I’m late.”

A small, knowing smile crossed Maria’s face. She wrapped the cuff around my arm and began to squeeze the pump.

“Okay, well, that could be the reason,” Maria noted. “Sometimes when you’re early in a pregnancy, your body might not be getting all the extra rest and nutrients and hydration it needs. It happens sometimes, and often, it’s no big deal.”

I nodded, reaching for Tyler’s hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said with a scrunched nose. “I just didn’t want to get my hopes up, let alone yours.”

Tyler brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.

“It’s okay,” he told me with a shake of his head. “I get it.”

I smiled gratefully, and Maria removed the cuff from my arm.

“Your blood pressure is a little low, which doesn’t surprise me,” she said. “Again, this can happen. Just to be safe, I wanna take you to the hospital for an EKG and monitor you for a bit, and we’ll do a pregnancy test there too, okay?”

I nodded, looking to Tyler for reassurance.

“It’s okay,” he said, knowing exactly what I needed to hear. “I’ll be right there with you.”

_____

One ambulance ride later, with Tyler beside me and Fanny following behind in my car, I had arrived at the emergency department and was being poked and prodded and hooked up to a plethora of monitors. A cardiologist soon confirmed that everything was fine with my heart, and my pregnancy test was then the only result that hung in the balance.

I sat propped up on pillows in the hospital bed, Tyler standing at my side as we waited in silence.

Out of nowhere, tears formed in my eyes, and I tried to swipe at them without Tyler noticing — a futile attempt. When he heard my faint whimper, he stepped closer and gathered me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.

“Hey, hey,” he spoke softly. “What is it, baby?”

“I’m scared, Ty,” I whispered, head buried in his chest. “Whether it’s positive or negative. I’m just scared.”

“I know, babe,” he replied, slowly caressing my back. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared, too. You’ve been through hell.”

“We’ve been through hell,” I corrected, sniffling as I looked up at him. Tyler nodded and smoothed his thumb along my jaw.

“We just have to believe that everything is gonna work out this time,” he told me as he kissed my forehead. “Good things are coming, Peyt. I can feel it.”

After several more minutes, my nurse, a sweet woman named Beth who spoke with a thick Texas accent, entered the room holding my chart. I could actually hear my own heartbeat in my ears, this time not because I felt faint, but because I was overwhelmed with anticipation.

“Well, Miss Peyton…” Beth began with a smile. “Congratulations. You’re gonna be a mama.”

I let out a sob and covered my mouth with my hand immediately, and Tyler choked out a breathless laugh. His hands grasped my face as he kissed me firmly.

“You hear that? We’re having a baby,” he whispered, eyes glossy with tears. “God, I love you so much.”

I giggled excitedly. “I love you, too, baby daddy,” I replied, causing Tyler to chuckle, too.

As Beth looked on with a grin, she wrote a few things down on my chart, then said, “Congratulations, you two. I’ll give you some privacy. Peyton, honey, we’ll be back around to check on you in about half an hour, okay?”

I nodded, tears streaking my face. “Yes, yes, thank you,” I spoke. “Thank you so much.”

With a kind nod, she left the room, pulling the sliding glass door closed behind her.

Before the door was even shut, Tyler’s lips found mine once more, his fingers holding my cheeks reverently. Eventually, I pulled away for a breath.

“You were right,” I told him, nudging his nose with mine.

Still completely giddy, he asked with a smile, “What was I right about?”

I reached a hand up to work my fingers through his curls. “You told me good things are coming,” I reminded, voice quivering. “You were right.”

Tyler was overcome with emotion once again and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. For the longest time, we stayed that way, embracing with only the sounds of soft, happy cries filling the room.

_____

eight months later...

“Are you the most handsome little man in the whole wide world? Hmm? I think so,” Tyler spoke to the tiny baby he held in his arms. “I think you’re just the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled from my hospital bed, feeling more exhausted and more in love than I ever knew I was capable of.

“And it’s a good thing you look like your mommy,” Tyler added, smirking at me before kissing the baby’s forehead — our baby’s forehead. “Uncle Jamie is gonna say that too. Yes, he is. I might as well beat him to it, huh?”

I chuckled, patting the mattress beneath me and gesturing for Tyler to join me.

“Bring him back over here,” I pleaded. “I miss him already.”

Tyler hummed knowingly and rose from his chair, carefully cradling the baby in his arms.

“I know,” he said. “I miss him, too, and I’m literally holding him. How is that possible?”

I smiled. “Because having kids means your heart walks around outside of your body,” I spoke, kissing our boy’s chubby cheek as Tyler took his place on my bed. “That’s what my grandmother used to say.”

He nodded. “You’re damn right,” he said, shaking his head. “I feel it already. I never knew it was possible to feel this way, Peyt. As bad as we wanted a baby, as much as it hurt when we lost the first one...” Tyler choked up as he spoke of the loss we’d experienced now almost two years ago. After a pause, he continued. “I still just never thought it would feel this incredible.”

I curled my hands around his arm and kissed his bicep. “Me either,” I admitted airily. “I’ll never forget the pain we felt then. And that baby will always be our first. But this... this is the best day of my life.”

Tyler beamed, wrapping one arm around my waist while cradling the baby to his chest with his other.

“So, are we decided on this little man’s name?” Tyler asked as I touched the baby’s pouted lips, making us both giggled at his expression.

“I think so,” I confirmed, leaning my head against his shoulder. “Are you still thinking what I’m thinking?”

Tyler looked down at me with hooded eyes, full of adoration, and nodded. “If you’re sure,” he spoke.

I’d been sure for a few months now, since the first day that I allowed myself to browse a baby name book, still riddled with fear of the unknown, while also waiting expectantly and with hope for our new journey ahead. I didn’t get far, only to the B’s, when I found the perfect name... one that meant blessed. 

As I peered down at the boy in my arms, no name seemed more fitting than that one I’d whispered into being long ago. 

“I’m sure,” I replied confidently. I cradled the baby’s head in my hand and pressed my lips to his forehead. “Welcome to our world, Bennett Tyler Seguin,” I whispered, overjoyed and humbled to finally have the privilege of having a son to name not only for his daddy, but also for the precious, long-awaited gift he was to us.

“Our boy,” Tyler whispered reverently.

[acebladespades]

For the sicktember thing, 9 with Nameless King, please? Thank you! 😊

Title (Do not) let him eat cake!

Fandom: Dark Souls

Characters: Nameless King, Ornstein, Gwynevere, Smough, Artorias, Sif.

Word-Count:2911

AO3-Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/34321024

Summary: Eating too many cakes in one go may not have been as fun as Gwynsen had thought...

Prompt: I am not sick

I am so sorry for taking so long!! Life got in the way but I finally finished your prompt :D I hope you like it, writing this was fun!

@sicktember

It was the smell which lured him out of his way and guided him to the dinning hall. Deep down, he knew there was something of importance he was meant to be doing. There was someone waiting for him.

Unconsciously, Gwynsen tried to remember, but all his thoughts faded into the background of his mind once he saw the tower of freshly baked pastries carefully placed on the table.

They exuded a sweet and delicious steam, the spicy scent of marzipan.

There were plenty, enough to feed a small army or a very hungry court.

Or, in Gwynsen’s case, a god of war with a grumbling stomach and a watering mouth.

Well, marzipan cakes are my favorite. Gwynevere finds them overly sweet and Gwyndolin often says they would rather lick a basilisk’s eyeball than to take a single bite of these sugary abominations. Oh Dolin, always so melodramatic.

Gwynsen carefully took one of the cakes in his hands.

So, surely, these were baked for me. The cooks must have wanted to surprise me. They are too generous to me. I shall see that they are rightfully rewarded! But first…

“I shall feast!” He opened his mouth and prepared to take the first bite.

“No, Gwynsen!”

But all he ended up biting was thin air and almost the tip of his tongue when, with a swift swing of her hand, Gwynevere took the cake away from him.

“What the--” Gwynsen said after his jaws recovered from the forceful impact of his empty bite. “Sister, where did you come from? And more importantly, why have you stolen my cake? Could this be fraternal betrayal?”

Gwynsen’s heart started to break at the mere thought of his own sister turning against him; thankfully, Gwynevere soon proved him wrong, but not before giving him a small slap on his head.

“Please, stop fooling around.” Gwynevere said with a heavy sigh as she placed the marzipan cake back in its former place. “Father will not approve of you eating his desserts. You know well how finicky he is about his midday cravings. Do you remember the time he destroyed the East tower with one of his lighting spears just because his pastries did not have enough powdered sugar on top? Because I do, and so do the cooks. I created many lovely memories in that tower. I loved that tower, brother, I really did.”

Gwynevere’s gaze became dark and sharp.

“Sister, please. You are scaring me.”

“Oh, I am sorry. I got a little carried away.” Immediately, Gwyenevere went back to her laid-back and cheerful demeanour, but her determination had not waned. “In any case, you shall have none of these baked goods. Unless, of course, you convince Father to share a few of them with you, but we both know that taming a rageful dragon would be an easier task, so really brother, don’t waste your time.”

“Ask Father?” Gwynsen snorted, half amused and half angry at how ridiculous the idea was. “Please. I would rather kiss Smough on the lips.”

“Brother, don’t be like that, for underneath that grotesque armor, lies a skilled kisser.”

“What?!”

“I said I would never want to do so either.”

“Gwynevere, that’s not what you said.”

“Brother, don’t you have places to be?” Gwynevere interrupted him without shame. “Isn’t it time for your daily training with Ornstein? It is not proper of a god to leave others waiting for long.”

Ornstein!

So that had been his original task before he had become distracted by the mesmerizing aroma of the cakes.

“I shall go to him at once.” Gwynsen exclaimed. His treacherous stomach seconded him with a loud growl.

He looked at the cakes again.

I’m already late for our training… so truly, you wouldn’t mind waiting for a few minutes more, would you, Ornstein?

Ornstein would definitely mind, and Gwynsen knew it.

I’ll think of a way to make it up to him later. Right now, there are more important matters at hand. And I know the way to turn things into my favor...

“Nevy, please.” Gwynsen looked around to make sure no one was around. Once he made sure there were no witnesses, he joined his hands together and looked at Gwynevere with hazy and sad eyes. “Let me have one. Father will not notice its absence, I promise. Please my dear, wise, beautiful, patient, smart, noble, brave--”

“No, Gwynsen.” Without mercy, Gwynevere interrupted her brother’s overused list of compliments. “I already told you no.”

“Then I hope you know how to explain Father about those little kisses you steal from Executioner Smough everyone now and then.”

“Oh dear… you know about it? Yes, I should have expected it. Gossip travels faster than light in this place.”

“So it’s true?! Gwynevere, you really should be more mindful of your secrets and your words. You are not what I would call subtle about them. And why, sister? Why Smough?”

“I think the right question here is ‘ Why not Smough?’ ” Gwynevere answered, winking an eye to Gwynsen.

“Gwynevere, stop. You’re killing your big brother.”

Unrepentantly, Gwynevere chuckled. “Don’t you worry, it was all a jest. Very well Gwynsen… if only to keep this small rumor between us, I shall let you eat one of Father’s cakes. Just one, understood? Now, if you excuse me, I too have someone to meet. He awaits for me in the west tower. And that someone’s name is Smough.”

Lighting power began to manifest around Gwynsen’s frame.

That bastard! How does he dare?

Gwynevere laughed at his reaction. “Oh brother, you are so easy to fool.”

She gave him a small pat on top of his head to calm him down. Gwynsen had just succeeded in controlling his temper when Gwynevere pulled him closer to her and whispered, “Seriously now, don’t come by.”

And with that, she was gone.

“My dear sister and the Executioner? No, I will not allow it!” Gwynsen exclaimed, his voice echoing with ruthless determination, the same way it did every time he commanded his soldiers to battle. “This is a transgression I cannot overlook! Wrathful lighting shall be your punishment, Smough! You shall curse the day you were--”

His stomach growled again.

Almost unconsciously, one of his hands reached for a marzipan cake.

“By the first flame, they sure smell good.”

His fury started to disappear, and it was completely forgotten when, at last, Gwynsen took the first bite.

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

“Master!”  Ornstein welcomed him as soon as Gwynsen entered the training grounds. His apprentice and friend did not bother to hide his anger at his pronounced delay. “What took you so long? We were supposed to start our training two hours ago. I had to listen to Artorias’ anecdotes this whole time. And don’t get me wrong, Artorias is my beloved friend and you know how much I care about him, but I swear, if I ever hear one more story about Sif’s antics...”

“What?” Gwynsen had heard only half of Ornstein’s rant. He wanted to pay attention, but it was difficult for him to focus on anything else other than the torturous knot on his stomach.

It hurt more than a dragon fang stuck in his gut after failing to evade the beast’s jaws. Gwynsen didn’t know how he was still standing, or how his fever had not melted his brains yet.

Oh, nonsense. I’m fine. Am I not the god who slays dozens of dragons and comes out of their fiery attacks unscathed?  I am fine! I just need to walk it off.

“Oh… Oh yes, Artorias.” Gwynsen said, doing his best to sound amused. “Where is he? I thought he would be joining us.”

“He had to leave. It was time for Sif’s daily walk.”

“Wait, the wolf walks his master?”

“What? Master, what are you talking about? Sif is the wolf, Artorias is the knight.”

“Oh… right.”

An awkward pause followed, one in which Ornstein took off his helmet and revealed his concerned expression to Gwynsen.

“Master, is everything alright?”

Ornstein’s worry was like a wake-up call for Gwynsen.

“Of course it is! “Gwynsen replied with the most forced smile he had ever made in his life, even more than when he had to pretend to be happy in his father’s presence. “ Why would you ever think otherwise, Ornstein?”

“You are sweating, your face is red, your legs are trembling.” Orbstein observed, unamused but still concerned. “And you keep embracing your stomach as if you were hugging an invisible lover.”

“Ornstein, don’t tell me you’re jealous!” With gigantic effort, Gwynsen straightened his back and unfolded his arms. The sharp sting in his stomach came close to making him gasp; to conceal it, Gwynsen cackled instead. “There is no such thing as an invisible lover in my arms! Ornstein, you say the wildest of things!”

An agonizing sting pierced Gwynsen’s stomach.

I am going to pass out.

His sight blurred and his belly burned as if he had swallowed the First Flame like it was wine.

No!

Gwynsen stomped his feet. Lighting energy shattered the ground below his sandal.

No, I am not sick! I am fine. My stomach is simply overreacting at the memory of my sister and Executioner Smough sharing kisses.

His stomach growled louder than a furious dragon.

Why Gwynevere? Why did you brand that image on your brother’s mind?

“Master, you are not well!” Ornstein exclaimed with great concern. “We need to take you to Lady Gwynevere. She will know how you heal whatever ailment is--”

“Nonsense!” Gwynsen countered, making Ornstein jolt back in surprise. “My sister is quite busy, you see. He is tending to Smough at this time of the day, and not in a chaste way.”

“What?” Gwynsen and Ornstein said at the same time.

Realizing he had spoken more than he should have, Gwynsen quickly gave Ornstein a strong slap on the back. “It was a jest! Ornstein, you are such a stick in the mud! You need to loosen up and relax, for laughing and resting are also fundamental parts of a knight’s training.”

Before Ornstein could protest, Gwynsen wielded his spear and readied his fighting stance.

My stomach is going to explode. Oh Father, what will you see when you gaze upon the scattered guts of your first- born?

He would probably say something akin to “Oh Gwynsen, look at the mess you made! You are a lost case, boy, you truly are!”

“Oh Father, you insensitive knave!”

“Master, there’s no need to be rude.” Ornstein protested. He too had wielded his spear and had readied his stance.

“No, I was not talking about you, Ornstein.  I was talking of my big, dumb, stupid… No, it doesn’t matter.” Gwynsen shook his head and focused. “Let’s begin. Come at me and try to land a hit, Ornstein. I will treat you as I would an enemy, so don’t hold back.”

“Master, I really think we should take you to your sister instead.”

“You talk too much! Battles are not won with words, but with arms!” Gwynsen charged at Ornstein. For a second, the adrenaline of battle, even one of training nature, erased any trace of pain. For Gwynsen, it was like a blissful and distracting gift.

I knew it. I knew my pain would go away on its own.

Gwynsen closed his eyes, rejoicing in his healthy and numb stomach.

You were no foe for this god of war, marzipan cakes! Your sweet and delicious ingredients are no match for my iron guts. MY IRON---

The rest of his victorious thought remained forever unfinished after an explosion of burning pain, born from the impact of the blunt side of Ornstein’s spear, spread from his stomach to the rest of his body.

Perhaps… I am sick.

Gwynsen thought as the darkness of unconsciousness took over his world.

Just a little bit.

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

“Last time, Gwynsen.” Gwynevere said to her brother with anger as she and Ornstein helped Gwynsen keep the vasin still on his lap as he emptied his stomach inside it. “That was the last time I ever trusted you and your insatiable hunger!”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to.” Gwynsen stuttered in a small pause his intestines gave him. “My will may be strong, but the marzipan was stronger.”

He wanted to say more, but he was interrupted by another gush rushing up his throat. Once he was done, Gwynevere and Ornstein put the vasin down on the floor and tucked him in bed.

“Well, I have to say,” Ornstein sighed with little enthusiasm, “this is not how I pictured my day would go. There was supposed to be more training in it and less vomit.  At the very least, I am glad you are feeling better now, master. Next time, don’t try so hard to pretend you aren���t feeling well.”

“And while you are at it, how about you also try not to devour four hundred marzipan cakes in one go like some hungry animal?” Gwynevere added as she glared at her brother. “God of war… The only thing you are a god of is gluttony!”

“Four hundred marzipan cakes?” Ornstein said in disbelief, only adding to Gwynsen’s shame. “Master, how could you have done such a thing? And here I was starting to think one of the cooks had tried to poison you! Four hundred cakes! And worst of all, why didn’t you ask me to join you or save some for me? You know they are my favorite too.”

“Dragon Slayer Ornstein!”

“N-no, no.” Ornstein turned crimson and began to stutter. “What I meant was… I was just saying… Oh, bollocks.”

“Ornstein!” A newcomer exclaimed. He entered the room and carefully closed the door behind him. “Such foul language in the presence of Lady Gwynevere. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Gwynsen, Gwynevere and Ornsteind stared at Artorias at the same time.

“Hey now, do not look at me all at once.” Artorias chuckled nervously. “No, seriously, please stop. I’m getting self-conscious.”

“Artorias, what are you doing here?” Ornstein asked. “I thought you were walking Sif.”

“I was, but Lord Gwyn summoned me. He told me about what happened with Lord Gwynsen and his poisoning. Something about marzipan cakes? I am not sure. Honestly, I stopped listening to Lord Gwyn soon after he started talking.  I don’t know the details, but he assigned me one task: to be Lord Gwynsen’s one and only companion during his recovery. I told Lord Gwyn that you would be more fit for the job, Ornstein, but he insisted I was the one to do it. He also told me how much Lord Gwynsen is fond of my anecdotes of Sif…. Oh master, I had no idea you felt that way. Worry not, I have plenty of stories I have not told you yet. I’m sure they will be a fine diversion while you recover!”

Gwynsen closed his eyes and cursed his father in his mind.

Father, you vengeful twit! I knew you would not let my mischief go unpunished! It was just some cakes… is this truly the punishment I deserve? You are cruel, Father. Cruel.

“But at the very least, I’m not alone.” Gwynsen said under his breath with relief and gratitude. He opened his eyes again and smiled. “For I have my dear sister and loyal friend by my side.”

The words died in his mouth when he saw neither Gwynevere nor Ornstein around. The only evidence they had left behind of their presence in the room was the open door they had forgotten to close during their hurried escape.

“Nevy?” Gwynsen whispered in despair. “Orny?”

But they were gone.

Only Artorias was there with him.

Artorias and his endless anecdotes of Sif.

“Do not worry master, I am sure they will be back soon.” Artorias said, pulling a chair closer to Gwynsen’s bed and sitting on it. “In the meanwhile, how about I tell you about the time Sif answered the call on nature inside Smough’s helmet and he only noticed once he put it on? That was a day Smough will not forget....”

Father, if I ever turn against you, know that this was the reason!

Gwynsen thought as he hid his head under the pillow.

As for Artorias, he kept talking and talking.

This was the reason!

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

It didn’t take long for Artorias to regret having left his master behind.

“Oh Lady Gwynevere, we should have not abandoned your brother. We should have remained by his side.”

“And listen to the time when Sif chewed on Father’s favorite sandals and almost brought doom upon us all? Do forgive Ornstein, but I think I shall pass. Besides...” Gwynevere turned around and stared longingly at the West tower. “There is someone waiting for me, and his name is…”

“No, I do not want to hear it. My mind shall not be branded as my master’s was!” Ornstein covered his ears and escaped from the scene. He did not know where he was going, but anywhere was better than staying there. As he ran, he kept chanting, “If I don’t hear, it isn’t real. If it isn’t real, it won’t haunt me!”

Gwynevere watched him go and laughed, unaware that Smough was standing behind her and had witnessed the whole thing.

Before he too walked away, he shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“By the Lords,” he lamented under his breath, “it is always the same thing with these gods and their knights. Every day. Every darn day.”