#//See i wouldn't have a problem with this if i had KNOWN ahead of time
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nine hours into my shift with no break in sight and i am being SO brave about it -
#;mun has spoken#//See i wouldn't have a problem with this if i had KNOWN ahead of time#//But as it stands i am hungry and so very tired#//I just#**sCEEECHES INTO THE VOID*
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Medieval Scorpions Effortpost
So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:
The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".
Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.
As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".
Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.
See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:
That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?
So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.
And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.
*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.
Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.
And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.
11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)
12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)
12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)
12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)
13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)
13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)
13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)
13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)
13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)
13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)
13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)
13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)
13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)
14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)
14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)
14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)
15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)
I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.
#medieval#medieval creatures#medieval art#scorpions#medieval scorpions#manuscript#medieval manuscripts#illuminated manuscript
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tender
lee know x reader, hurt/comfort | m.list
wc: 1.4k | warnings: themes of depression and struggling with mental health
a/n: this fic is a little self indulgent as i haven't been feeling great lately. so i hope this brings comfort to anyone who needs it ♡
you don’t remember how long you’ve been sitting in the tub. you’re sure your hands have pruned and wrinkled due to the prolonged time you have been in here, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.
the sides of your head pulses as a migraine at the forefront of your temple starts to fully form. you had hoped a moment of reprieve in the bath would calm your nerves and ease your headache, but it had yet to do so.
the droplets fall slowly against your furrowed eyebrows and taut expression, dripping freely down on your chin and on the dewy expanse of your chest. both arms are splayed limply across the sides of the tub, staring blankly ahead at the white tiled walls above, unmoving.
the temperature was warm, too warm for your usual liking but you didn’t seem to mind today, welcoming the dull pain it brought. the white tiles that you’ve been staring at for what seemed like forever stared back at you.
the silence was deafening.
a lot has been on your mind lately. the restless and constant feeling of not being good enough and comparing yourself to others caused you to no longer find enjoyment in the things you used to love doing.
words that usually meant nothing had stuck themselves inside your head as well, dissecting every meaning when they had none. sleep did not come easily to you these nights, tossing and turning, failing to succumb into the comforting arms of sleep.
isolation became your company in these moments, withdrawing yourself from everything. missing out on a lot of stuff, in turn, made you feel worse than you already did.
you knew you should probably tell someone about your problems but you just couldn't find it in yourself to do it. the last thing you wanted to be was a bother.
some days are admittedly better than others, where you’re able to get things done, to do your obligations and continue on with life like normal. but when you least expect it, it creeps up on you, pulling you back into that unhealthy head space.
you tried to force these thoughts and feelings down for a long time, pretending that everything was fine. today was apparently the day it all came rising up, unable to keep a lid on your bubbling emotions.
a sense of dread hung over your head, eyes aching from all the crying you did. wet strands of hair had clumped together, obscuring your view, perturbed by how sometimes your skin doesn't feel like yours.
“y/n?”
the bathroom starts to fog with mist, clouding the glass and mirrors, the water slowly scalding your skin. the call to sink down into the water and never come up are louder than ever.
“-y/n? are you in there?” a voice makes itself known. lifting yourself up a little bit, startled at the faintest sound of knocks.
you forget that minho would be home around this time. a hand flies towards your forehead to ease the pounding pain. shit, you haven't started making dinner.
it takes a while before you answer, collecting yourself as to not sound as shaky. “yeah! just finishing up, i'll be out in a sec.”
“don’t get out, i'll join you.” he yells back, the sound of padding feet against the wooden floors reverb through out the apartment. your eyes flicker at his sudden decision, causing you to sigh and sink down into the water once more.
as much as you adored and love him and how most days would let him join you with no hesitation, you silently hoped that he wouldn't today. you couldn't bear to let him see you in this state, all disheveled and puffy eyed. but it was rare when he was even home, given his grueling schedule.
so you wait for him patiently to come over to your shared bathroom, hugging your legs tightly. you remember to turn the cold tap on and off before he enters, water droplets filling in the silence.
when he finally creaks open the door with nothing on but a bathrobe and a silly cat headband that kept his hair away from his forehead on, you can't help but smile even if it doesn't quite reach your eyes.
you inch farther into the corner, making space for him quietly as he gets in. if he had noticed the temperature of the water that had yet to cool down, he made no attempt to comment.
the two of you don't say anything for the time being, just in each other's corner, relaxing and leaning your arms on the cool edge of the tub.
“you’re quiet.” his voice echoes. minho’s voice cuts through the silence, a stark contrast to the quietness of the bathroom just moments ago.
“i’m sorry.”
feeling minho’s heavy unwavering gaze into the side of your head, you can’t help but feel awful. you don’t mean to be so curt with him, but any more words from your mouth frightens you, afraid that the underlying shakiness of your voice will give you away.
your eyes still keep averting his, afraid of what expression he might bore. will he look at you with pity? with a tired gaze of disappointment?
he does not. instead, minho grabs one of the lavender scented shampoo bottles placed neatly on the shelf and gestures for you to turn around. you follow his request, albeit apprehensively, turning around.
“there we go.” he says. even if you refuse to meet his eyes, you could tell he was smiling as he said it.
minho takes great care to shampoo your hair, his blunt nails gently raking over your scalp, unknowingly soothing your dreadful headache. minho is observant, very much so. it doesn’t surprise you at all anymore when he suddenly asks.
“what’s wrong, hmm?” he finally says amidst the stillness of the atmosphere, tone dripping of comfort as his hands continue to lightly massage through your soapy tresses. you lean into it like a desperate cat, melting at his simple touch. oh how you've yearned for his touch.
although you don’t answer, his intuitive nature already knows that something was amiss.
“you know i’m always here for you.” minho says, pressing a delicate kiss on your shoulder. his sweet words and murmurs of comfort act like a salve to your aching heart as tears start to gather at your lash line once again.
you always hated making him worry.
the overwhelming emotion brings you to tears, immense guilt ebbing at your seams. minho places his head on your shoulder as you cry, hands running up and down your sides in an attempt to soothe you.
he doesn't deserve this, to be left out, to not know the reason you're so distant lately. he trusted you and you trusted him. so you spill every little thing to him.
voice starting to rasp, your stuttering cries now unrestraint without fear of judgement and just allowing yourself to be vulnerable. salty tears start to meld together with the water in the tub, rippling as they fall. at last, you feel lighter. the weight that you carried for so long in your heart doesn't have to be carried alone.
after a while, the hiccupping in your throat and the tears start to subside, leaving you a sniffling mess. turning around to finally face him, you fought the urge to hide in your hands.
"feel a little better now?" minho looks at you with nothing but a loving smile, no underlying judgement, just adoration, and one that makes you dive into him. you feel so utterly loved, what did you do to deserve him?
your arms wrap around his neck, placing apologetic kisses on his lips. he reciprocates, hands going around your back to steady your form. your mouth tumbles out watery apologies as he caresses the skin of your nape, gentle as he can.
you release him, arms still hooked around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes as if he's the center of the universe, and to you, he is. "i love you." the edges of your vision cloud with the tell tale signs of drowsiness, finally finding it in yourself to relax in his hold.
and he lets you, guiding your head to rest on his broad chest, the steady beats of his heart thumping against your temple, grounding you, his feathery light touches lingering.
feelings like these come and go, but minho is a constant that you keep close to your heart.
“thank you for putting up with me.”
"of course, i love you too."
#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz scenarios#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x you#skz imagines#lee know skz#stray kids angst#lee know angst#skz angst#skz x you
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Bi-Han is an honorable man
I can't believe that I'm making yet another post pointing out the obvious but every time I go into a Youtube comment section I'm starting to question whether me and the rest of the Mortal Kombat fandom have even played the same game.
1. He shows opponents mercy
Sub-Zero: You want peace? Let us be.
Liu Kang: The Lin Kuei's sins aren't easily forgiven.
Sub-Zero: Surrender and Shao will show mercy.
Mileena: If you believe that, you're a fool.
Sub-Zero: Walk away while you can.
Raiden: I'll never give up, never surrender.
Sub-Zero: I won't hold back, Brother.
Scorpion: Do your worst.
Sub-Zero: We have no cause for dispute.
Kitana: You aided Shao's attempt to steal the throne!
These dialogues honestly speak for themselves already, they don't even need explaining. Compare that to actual villains like General Shao who sends Reiko after Bi-Han to kill him simply because he "doesn't like loose ends" even after Bi-Han saved him or Shang Tsung who killed Reptile's family out of nothing but sheer cruelty.
The fact that Bi-Han is willing to let people walk away from a fight, that he gives them a chance to walk away alive, speaks volumes about his personality. He warns his opponents in his intros and even during his end of round taunts ("Flee now and live."), he tries to solve things peacefully and without violence if possible. He's not bloodthirsty, malicious or eager to kill anyone, but will do so if given no other choice.
Despite Bi-Han's flaws, a man willing to show an opponent mercy is an honorable man. SPOILERS AHEAD: May I again remind you that Kuai Liang is not willing to show a defeated and dying Bi-Han mercy when he gets turned into Noob against his will? Not only that, but Kuai Liang wouldn't have hesitated to kill Frost who is probably around Hanzo's age at his own wedding if Harumi hadn't stepped in to save her. Harumi had to beg Kuai Liang to show someone mercy, while Bi-Han grants it without a second thought. Like it or not, at least in that one aspect, Bi-Han is the better man.
I don't know why some people think of him as this aggressive guy going around trying to pick fights with everyone when all he wants is to be left alone? It's wild to me how people think he's the problem here.
2. He respects/admires their fighting skills
Sub-Zero: You will surely test my might.
Ashrah: I will overwhelm it, Sub-Zero.
Sub-Zero: This fight I will long remember.
General Shao: Who says you will survive it?
Sub-Zero: I'm pleased to fight Outworld's foremost mage.
Rain: Will it also please you to lose?
Sub-Zero: I hear your skills are formidable.
Li Mei: As are those of all who have been Umgadi.
Can we also talk about how respectful Bi-Han is towards his opponents? He compliments them on their skills as opposed to Kuai Liang who even talks down to his own allies. Yes, Bi-Han is arrogant, but he can still acknowledge other people's strengths and respect them, even if they are his foes.
3. He admits when he's wrong
Sub-Zero: I was wrong to trust you.
General Shao: Yes, Earthrealmer. You were.
Sub-Zero: I wasn't aware of Shang Tsung's experiments.
Liu Kang: Had you known, would your choice have been different?
Sub-Zero: Your mother's death is regrettable.
Kitana: I consider you complicit, Bi-Han.
You can say what you want about him, but he certainly takes responsibility for his actions and even shows regret over some of them. Bi-Han might not be the most compassionate character, but he does express some sympathy towards others. Compare that to Kuai Liang who tells Havik it's his own fault that his face was burned off as if he had nothing to do with it. Yes, Bi-Han doesn't show much sympathy towards Baraka for his condition, but neither does Kuai Liang. Why Kuai Liang is still considered the more honorable brother regardless of that and his very obvious ableism, is beyond me.
Bi-Han's good traits are all too often overlooked. I don't know if it's because people don't pay attention to intros, but it's so easy to see he's not a bad person deep down. It's just the media comprehension skills of most MK fans that are seriously lacking.
#bi han#bi-han#bi han sub zero#mk sub zero#mk bi han#kuai liang#mk scorpion#mk kitana#mk li mei#mk ashrah#mk liu kang#mortal kombat 1#mk1 2023
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im so curious.... what wouldve happened if bee knew those were königs bugs? like does he go full kidnapper? saying she just up and left to the people who ask, meanwhile shes barely waking up tied nice and comfortably secure to a bedpost in a somewhat familiar bedroom
im always down for some darker content<3
OK UH problem here is that Bee is insane and reads exclusively dark romance. I wanted this to be dark but she is so silly, and charming. König is charmed. That's why he kidnapped her. You know, once again you're not trapped with him, he's trapped with you. This isn't canon...
If you'd put the pieces together, if König had said something a little more suspicious, what other choice would he have had but to take you home? You try to ask him why he bugged your home, who he's working for, but he's fast and something sharp stings your neck.
You wake up in a room with bars on the windows and a nasty hangover. The sun is too bright through the gauzy curtains. You snuggle deeper under the heavy blankets, hug your arms tighter around your pillow and try to remember what you drank last night. Except you didn't drink anything you remember with a start. König hit you with something. You force your eyes open and sit up to take in the room. It's nice, cozy. Heavy blankets cover the bed, plush throws and old quilts. Thick carpets hide the wood floors you know flow throughout König's house. There's art on the walls, a bookshelf, an armchair.
This place is way nicer than the cells the leads in your favorite books get thrown into. You sniff, rub at your sleep laden eyes, as you take stock. This is just like when Rebessica got kidnapped by Dextros in "Kidnapped by a Crime Boss". You should probably be more panicked than you are, but the splitting headache makes it hard to think that far ahead. They never mention that part in the books.
You know if König wasn't a fed this might be hot. You always wondered what it would be like to be kidnapped by a guy who was so in love with you it bordered on obsession. You knew it was too good to be true, a handsome cowboy living next door to you, doting on you. You should have known he was a CIA plant. Weird they'd make him German, but you suppose it works for him. There's a button next to the bed, right next to the lamp. You hardly hesitate before pushing it.
König opens the door a second later, you wonder if he was waiting for you. "Can I have some asprin?" You ask, "And do we have time for coffee before you give me to the cops, or..." König blinks at you. You can see the gears turning behind his eyes grind to a halt.
"What? Why would the police be involved?" He makes no move to get you anything for the headache. Cruel and unusual punishment.
"You're a fed? I assume?" You pick at the bedspread, "Tellin' me you're retired, getting me to lower my guard, bugging my house, I thought you liked me."
"What?"
"And I want my phone call. I won't say a word without my lawyer present." You cross your arms over your chest to stare him down. König looks like he's completely lost.
"I am retired." He tells you, picking up at least part of your griping.
"You're holding me prisoner," You remind him, in case he forgot. His eyes dart away from you, glancing at the room before landing on you again.
"A very cute prisoner." He tries. You're not buying it. His expression changes, hardens into something cruel and unreadable. You shiver, some sick excitement dripping down your spine. "This is for your own good Schatz, it's dangerous for you to be on your own, and I couldn't have you trying to leave me after you found-"
"Oh I wouldn't leave you over that," You cut him off. König deflates a little, stalks into the room so you're forced to tip your head back to look at him. He looms over you, menacing.
"What?"
"Bugging me, you're not with any government or police force, right?" He nods slowly. "Then I don't see what the big deal is, I bugged you."
"You what?" The tone in König's voice is dangerous. You really don't thin he should be so upset about that, turnabout is fair play.
"Put a worm on your phone, keystroke tracking, location tracking, app usage, battery data-" König holds up a hand to stop you, taking a deep breath.
"Ok," He feels out the word, absorbing the new information. You take the moment to push the blankets back, he put you in pjs, they're cute. This should not strike you as romantically as it does. It's just like one of your books, awww. Your forum friends are going to freak over this. You watch König process, as much as you think this is kinda hot you really should feed your cat.
"Can I go home now, or do you want the worm off your phone?" You ask, as sweet as you can manage. König hums.
"You're not mad."
"You like me enough to kidnap me," You giggle, kicking your feet, "it's kind of cute." The look of horror on König's face is quick but noticeable. He pinches the bridge of his nose and heaves a sigh.
"We need to talk about the books you are reading meine Liebe," He shakes his head, "Ja, alright, run along home. I'll be by later to check on you."
"I know," You grin, "You have it on your calendar, including walk time."
#cod x reader#x reader#x oc#cod x oc#könig fanfiction#könig x reader#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig#könig mw2#könig x f!reader#König x oc#cowboy!König#oc: bee#Bee you are insane and I think you should seek professional help#inspire by my sister's insanity when she talks about yandere shit#Spec you cannot do those men like that#König is doing his best#non-canon#sorry this isn't dark#you multiply 2 negatives you're gonna get a positive
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Fear Of The Known
Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader
|Chapter Two|
Warning(s): Heavy Angst, Little Comfort
Y/n could not bare to face Lucifer after that. She knew already what would come of that meeting, and sure enough, Lucifer's ideas were rejected. Even if Y/n wanted to see him, and deep down she really did, Lucifer was never around.
His absences only lead Y/n to believe he had finally met with Lilith, Adam's ex wife. It would only go downhill from now. Chaos was just around the corner. Soon, Heaven would enter an era of disharmony.
Sin was unleashed upon the world, due to Lucifer and Lilith's actions. And for this, the two would be severely punished.
But not before Lucifer was placed on trial.
Y/n would not be there for Lucifer's trial. But that didn't stop the head Seraphim from questioning her beforehand. About an hour before the trail would take place, Sera would call for Y/n, seeking her vision of the future.
Y/n had the worst feeling as she stepped foot into that courtroom. Sera was not the only one present. Even Joel was there.
Y/n felt her stomach drop as Joel's eyes fell onto her. His expression was unreadable, only adding to Y/n's anxiety.
Of course he would be here. He was the overseer of all Heaven's laws, after all. And this case was something Joel would absolutely need to be present for. This case would determine Lucifer's fate, though, Y/n knew what lies in store for him.
Y/n exhaled shakily before stepping to the center of the courtroom. She looked up at Sera as she spoke. "You called for me, Sera?"
"Yes." Sera starts. "I'm sure you're more than aware of Lucifer's transgressions. Which is why I've summoned you here before his trial is to begin." Her eyes pierced Y/n's own, she sighs before speaking again.
"Did you not see this coming? How couldn't you? Heaven is in disarray trying to fix Lucifer's mess. The Earth is now corrupted by sin, and there is no undoing it. How has a future like this slipped your mind?"
Y/n tried keeping her composure. "I did see this potentially happening. My vision of the future is never one straight line. There are millions of possible futures that could occur, and this was one of them unfortunately."
"If that's true." Joel spoke up, catching the room's attention. "Then why didn't you warn us ahead of time? Possibility or not, it would have still been a problem. One we might have taken proper precautions to avoid."
Y/n, still calm, explained. "There are many other possible futures that could have ended up like this one. If this future was prevented, who's to say another wouldn't be similar or exactly like it?"
"You are to say." Sera says sternly. "It is your duty to say what will be. If there is a chance something as disastrous as this could happen, it is up to you to warn us."
"Even if there are thousands of futures like this?" Y/n questions. Why did it feel as if she were the one on trial? Well...She might as well be. She did hide this outcome from everyone after all. They suspected her of lying, and they were right to do so.
"If that's what it takes." Said Sera. "Heaven has never faced anything like this. And with it's population growing, we can not allow for something like this to happen again. The Earth was not spared from corruption. Heaven, most certain will not meet the same fate."
"She's right." Joel nods. "We can't have an event as atrocious as this to ever occurring again. So, Y/n, we highly advise you be more cautious of futures like this from now own. For your sake, and for the sake of Heaven. Understood?"
Y/n inwardly sighed, she nods her head. "Of course. I will not let this happen again."
"Good, that will be all. The trial will begin soon." Joel says to her. And with that, Y/n swiftly takes her leave.
The day had gone from bad to worse, though, Y/n expected as much. She knew that trial would end with Lucifer falling from Heaven. Knowing this, she couldn't bare to be there to witness it happen. She's already seen enough.
For the next few weeks, Y/n would barely leave her home. But that didn't stop the seemingly unending questions about what will come next. The people of Heaven were anxious, and only sought comfort in knowing the future would bring more good than bad.
After that day, Heaven has been on high alert and rules have become far stricter.
The Archangels, Seraphims, and even God himself would do everything in their power to keep something like that from ever happening again.
And with this, would mean Y/n using her gift to view the future more than she had ever before. It was starting to become exhausting. But it was her duty, she could not allow herself to falter.
And she had no one to blame but herself. Had she warned everyone of that future, maybe none of this would have happened.
Today would be another day of questioning, Y/n was drained. And just when she thought she had a moment to relax, there was another knock at her door. She stifled a groan before answering it.
Upon seeing who was on the other side of the door, Y/n immediately straightened her posture and bowed her head respectfully.
"Haha...You uh, don't have to do that."
Didn't she? They were God's right hand! Y/n rose her head and tried to ignore her fast heartbeat. "Hello Galim. Is there something I can assist you with?"
Galim shrugs. "Something like that. I came to ask you if you would visit Michael. He...hasn't been himself since Lucifer's departure. I'm starting to get worried. And I'm not the only one." They say with a sigh. "People are starting to get antsy and I'm trying my best to keep them as calm as possible. Michael is one of the more inspirational angels, and his absence is starting concerning others."
"We've already lost one bright star...we can't afford to loose another." Galim says under their breath.
Y/n nods, guilt started to build in her chest. "But, wait. Why me?" She asks.
"Well, everyone else is still doing damage control. And, Michael called for you himself." Galim answered. Y/n's eyes widened slightly. "He called for me personally?"
Galim nods. "I can take you there, if you'd like." They offer their hand to her. Y/n graciously takes it. "Thank you, Galim."
"Of course." Galim snapped their fingers and in an instant, they were right outside of Michael's home. "Well, I'll be off then. There's much work to be done."
"I'm sorry to have drawn you away from it." Y/n apologized. Galim waves their hand dismissively. "Don't fret. This was an important matter, I'm glad you could help me with."
"Yes, of course." Y/n nods. "Goodbye then." Galim says with a smile before teleporting elsewhere.
Y/n looked up at the doors before her. She inhaled deeply and exhaled before knocking. The doors opened, welcoming her inside. She walked through the foyer before the doors gently came to a close behind her.
"Michael?" She calls out. After a few seconds of silence, she was suddenly enveloped in bright golden smoke. And just like that, she was moved to a different part of the home.
"Hello, Y/n."
Y/n turned to see Michael sitting at a desk, head in one of his hand, while the other held a tiny porcelain duck. He was focused on the small sculpture as he moved it around his finger and thumb.
"Hello, Michael. How are you doing?" Asked Y/n. Michael shrugs. "Better, I guess. Gabriel has been checking on my injury every now and then." Y/n glances at one of Michael's wings. His looked near identical to Lucifer's. His wings weren't the only thing they shared in looks.
The two were practically twins. They only thing that kept people from actually calling them as such, was Michael's height. He was slightly taller than Lucifer. Though, when they were young, they grew at the same rate. It wasn't until Lucifer's late teen years did he stop growing.
Still their faces were a perfect match. Eventually Michael had to start styling his hair differently to keep others from confusing him with Lucifer.
"It's not broken, not anymore." Michael says. "The rest of my body healed quickly."
"I see." Y/n mutters. "Um, you wanted to see me, yes?"
"I did." Michael nods. He sets the small duck down onto the desk, his eyes finally meeting her own. Y/n didn't miss how empty they looked. "I wanted to ask you something."
"Alright." Y/n nods. "What is it?"
"Did you know my brother would fall?" Michael asks, his voice wavered ever so slightly. Y/n's gaze fell to the ground as she answered. "I did."
"And you said nothing?"
Y/n sighed shakily. "I...I told Lucifer."
Michael raised an eyebrow. "You did?"
"I didn't tell him that he would fall. But I did tell him that his plan would not come to fruition. But he wouldn't listen. And...I just didn't want to crush his dreams." Y/n explained, then exhaled. "But I realize how selfish that was now. I won't ever make a mistake like that again."
Michael's eyes fell onto the duck for a moment before focusing on her again. He sighed. "I am no position to judge you for you choice. I can't honestly say I wouldn't do the same."
This surprised Y/n a bit. She looked back up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Lucifer is my brother. Had I known how passionate he was about that dream of his was...I don't think I would have had the heart to tell him it wouldn't work." Michael places his hand on his temple. "But..." A shaky breath leaves Michael.
"I would have preferred to break his heart, rather than draw my sword against him."
Y/n could hear the pain dripping from Michael's words. He wasn’t over the fight he had with his brother, nor his departure. "I'm so sorry, Michael. I know that was hard for you."
"It is my duty to protect the people of Heaven. I just never thought I'd had to protect them from him." Michael says bitterly. He takes a breath. "I am not the only one hurting it seems." His gaze was on Y/n once again.
Y/n fought back the tears that threatened to gather in her eyes. "I would never wished this upon Lucifer. Or anyone."
"You and him were close. He was looking for you in that courtroom, I could tell."
With that, the tears broke through and fell down her face. She brought a hand to her face and turned away from Michael. "I'm sorry." She sniffles.
"It's alri-." Michael starts, but Y/n beats him to it. "It's not! I wanted so badly not to hurt him, I wanted to save him from his fate! But I only hurt him anyway, and I did nothing to stop it! If only I had went to that trial, maybe I could have defended him somehow!" She cries.
"He wanted me there with him at that meeting. And I refused to go all because I was too afraid. I told him his dream couldn't come true. Oh Michael...he looked so betrayed..."
You barely heard Michael approaching you through your weak sobs, until he pulled you into a hug.
"It's not like him and I left on good terms either. I understand. But we could have only done so much. You know how Lucifer is. When he wants to do something, he will do it. Try not to blame yourself, Y/n. If he knew that you were only trying to protect him, he would have understood. And I'm sure he's forgiven you."
Y/n choked out another sob as she hid her face in Michael's chest. She would have given anything to speak with Lucifer one last time. She would have endlessly apologized for failing him. Y/n hated herself for not trying harder to keep him safe.
She would never be the same again, not without Lucifer. Not when knowing she did little to nothing to stop him. And for thousands of years, he would be a constant and painful reminder of how she had failed.
But never again. Y/n was given her gift for a reason. And so, she would dedicate her time into making sure the future would bring nothing but safety and contentment for all in Heaven.
No matter the cost...
Tags-
@bloody-delusion-expert
#hazbin hotel#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer magne x reader#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel
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Stubbornness
Fandom: Six of Crows
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader
Warnings: mentions of traumas and touch aversion, Reader being a Healer
A/n: so here's the thing I wanted something angsty and smutty but could come up only with the first part tonight so I'll do another hot part in a few days to finish this completely.
Word count: 2,1k
Part 2
— I don't need that, — the confident tone cut through the silence like a sharp knife, sending shivers down your spine for a second.
You might have believed it if you hadn't personally witnessed a couple of Dime Lions beating Kaz with such zeal that the crunch of his broken ribs was clearly audible in the empty valley.
So you continued to worry about him without listening to what was said. You paid far more attention to the quiet sighs Kaz let out with each step, leaning harder and harder on his bad leg, as you noticed the pained expression flickering in his eyes, though you had to hand it to him that he was using all his acting skills to pretend to be fine and make you leave.
— Stop being so stubborn! Even Matthias isn't afraid of my abilities anymore after I healed that bullet wound in his shoulder.
You determinedly followed Kaz into his room, letting the door slam menacingly. As a sign to Kaz that you wouldn't just give up and leave him to be alone with the pain. As a sign to everyone else in the Slat that no one was allowed to bother him anymore in the next couple of hours.
There was no relationship between the two of you. At least, that's what you both claimed when Jesper and Nina cast too many meaningful glances at you, and Inej carefully kept in a secret all those times she saw you leaving Kaz's bedroom before breakfast, knowing that you had spent the night with him. Saints, sometimes even you convinced yourself that you had nothing in common, even though certain details made it clear that your relationship had long gone beyond the professional.
If you didn't know Kaz personally, you'd think he was giving you conflicting signals. He was withdrawn and aloof, preferring to talk only about business. Even if he insisted and you spent the entire evening around him, he went about his deals as if he didn't notice your presence. His stern tone was used toward you as often as it was toward everyone else.
If you didn't know him, you'd be sure that Kaz Brekker was a cold, indifferent bastard who was only interested in kruge and the future death of Pekka Rollins. Calculating and cruel and completely incapable of basic affections. But in reality it was very different. The trick was not to take Kaz for an ordinary guy and not to see him as such. His difficult past had made him wear such armor that it had time to blend into his skin over the years.
In those moments when anyone else would have approached you with caring questions and a warm hug if you were suddenly hurt during the heist, Kaz would limit himself to a brief worried look, though later he would definitely comb down the person you were paired with. You once accused him of being incapable of showing any emotions, but you later realized that the Barrel had hardened him to show it in the most inconspicuous way possible, so as not to put you in any danger. Only the Saints know what Pekka or anyone else would have done to you if they had known about the secret feelings Kaz had for you.
When Wylan revealed that he knew a Healer, everyone took it with great enthusiasm. Even Kaz saw it as a good sign, and it made everyone feel a little more at ease about the tasks ahead, though you remembered to remind Crows to be careful. You could heal a lot, but it wasn't always instantaneous and serious wounds could take a couple of weeks to fully heal. The bigger problem was someone else's stubbornness - Jesper would drag himself to you almost every day with any simple cut, while Matthias or Kaz would literally have to be persuaded.
— I want to help. Let me, please.
Despite the soft shell, the authoritative tone was no deception to Kaz. He sighed heavily and, after a little hesitation, pulled off his jacket, ignoring the flash of pain around his shoulder. Who would have thought that Pekka's secretary was so good with knives?
— You're not supposed to be here, Y/n. He'll be looking for you. Did Pim let you in? — the curt speech was the proof of how much effort Brekker was making to hold back a painful groan and, God forbid, admit that he really needed some help.
You were bound to Anderson with an indenture and officially worked at one of his clubs along with the other Grishas. He was a part of the Merchant Council and was involved in key decisions regarding politics and trade in Ketterdam, which, however, did not stop him from accepting bribes, being under the wing of Pekka and running a real brothel in his club. Many men were really interested in spending the night with Grisha, though more often they ended up asking the girls to demonstrate their skills.
— Anderson is having a party tonight, along with a bunch of other great merchants. And you obviously knew that, since you'd snuck into Pekka's club, counting on the fact that he'd be among the other guests and his office would be empty. Why didn't Nina feel the heartbeat of the guards? — you were tired of the distance between you, so you approached first, gently helping to undo the buttons on Kaz's blood-soaked shirt. Your eyes tried desperately to catch his, but Brekker stubbornly looked away, trying to control the panic that was building up. Close bodily contact was still difficult for him, though his was making definite progress with your help.
— The Fabricator. Someone had worked on the office door, turning it into a veritable safe, through which it is impossible for Grisha to feel or hear anything. Someone from Dregs had told Pekka about our future attack.
Kaz looked angry, but you understood that he had already passed the stage of frustration with his subordinates and so was calculating his options as to who might had done it. His sharp mind was constantly at work, and it was clearly to his advantage now, since it distracted him from realizing how close your fingers were to his body. Phantom heat could already be felt, but it was nothing compared to what he was going to feel later.
You had tried some things before. Intimacy might have been expressed in different ways, but gradually you raised the degree higher and higher. Kaz was getting used to your presence more and more and it allowed him to push his boundaries a little further. Recently you were even able to spend the night in the same bed, separated only by the thin fabric of your pajamas. Before his trauma Kaz was a particularly tactile child, and you hoped to bring him back to that at least a little, showing him that physical touch didn't always have to be accompanied by pain and panic.
You remembered perfectly your first kiss. How timid and cautious it was at first. How desperate and greedy it became later, until a wave of anxiety swept over Kaz and made him pull away first. He focused on avoiding you for a whole week after that and was pretty sure that you were disappointed in his ability to control himself or that you were angry because of his attitude toward touching and the fact that he couldn't give you something normal. However, you managed to change his mind and you continued to take steps toward each other, guided by your growing feelings.
— None of that matters now. You took the papers you wanted, and I'll heal your wounds. We'll deal with everything else in the morning, okay? — you smiled encouragingly, and then you gently stepped closer, your fingers caressing Kaz's bare left side, trying to bind the broken ribs together. Your attentive gaze was fixed on Kaz's face the whole time, assessing and comparing, so that you could instantly catch the moment when the panic of too close contact would occupy his mind again.
— Will you stay? — Kaz finally stopped pretending that his brave solitude on that night was more appealing to him than your support.
— If you behave yourself, sweetheart.
You pulled his shirt aside and examined more closely many bruises and cuts that studded Kaz's torso. The open wound on his right shoulder demanded your attention first, so you gently nudged Kaz toward the bed so that he could sit on it and give you more space. As you worked, you couldn't stop gazing at him, admiring him openly, and your free palm lightly touched his hair, brushing back the strands that had fallen to his forehead. Tenderness filled your heart, and a wandering smile appeared on your lips that didn't escape Kaz's attention.
He liked these moments of comfort with you, and he expressed it in his own way, deciding to take the initiative and slowly run his fingertips from your knee up your thigh. You were standing almost between his legs and the height difference you created gave him an advantageous opportunity. Touching you was still new to Kaz, but the mind-fogging desire was too great and, at certain moments, overpowered any panic. And that's why he gently wrapped his arm around your wrist and pulled you toward him to make you sit on his lap, facing each other even closer.
— It's good you weren't there in his office. If Pekka finds out you're working with me, he'll definitely tell Anderson. They're great friends, it wouldn't cost him anything to get your indenture to himself, — Kaz' eyes were filled with pure hatred, and some part of you was glad it wasn't meant for you.
— You could buy me out. That way I would belong only to you.
— You already belong only to me, Y/n, — Kaz said confidently, in a wave of ghostly jealousy, not even paying attention to the fact that your palm moved to his face, healing his cheekbones from the horrible bruises.
— Only at night. You only claim me here, among these confined four walls, when no one can see or hear us, — you shrugged briefly, getting rid of the sadness in your voice. It would be foolish to expect a man like Kaz to drop everything and leave for a peaceful life. Ketterdam, power and the pursuit of money was everything to him. — Sometimes it takes an effort to remind myself of that during the day, when I don't know if I can see you again because people on streets are about to break the news of your death after another fight or because Anderson will sell me out to someone else.
It was harder to hear about it than to just know it and keep it in the back of his mind. You were the fairest and most beautiful girl for Kaz, the person he truly wanted to protect from everything and care about, and he was sickened by the thought that someone could take you away or hurt you somehow. The words swirled on his tongue, burning with its despair, and he needed to do something to hold on to that moment and cling to you, to prove that the only thing real now was you, your caressing touches erasing the painful sensation from his skin, and the heat of life itself that emanated from you.
The few times before all your kisses had come from you. Kaz had found it easier to accept touch than to touch himself, but now the need to be with you made him go with his urges, so his palm gripped your waist, pulling you closer, and his lips covered yours so hastily, as if he feared it was the last thing he would ever have time and ability to do in his life. But kissing him was still extremely satisfying.
So much that the desire instantly settled in your blood and made you more pliable. Your tongue slid playfully along his, and a convulsive, loud exhalation became yours in common. You unconsciously buried your fingers in his hair and pulled stronger, causing Kaz to moan briefly right into the kiss before he slowly pulled away with a completely shaken look and a bright smile and a glint in his eyes. And in that moment he looked a hell of a lot like his usual self, just a guy spending time with the girl he loved, and their only problem was not the prospect of death at the hands of rival gangs, but the question of whether they'd locked the door.
Although Kaz Brekker had another question stashed away — would you agree to wear that ring he bought for you so you could remember him and his feelings at all times?
Part 2
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Chapter 1: The Wandering Fool
(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)
Series: The Divine Violence - Chapter 1: The Wandering Fool
Wordcount: 6.8k
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader
TW: (View masterlist for series tw and tags) - Religious trauma, PTSD, Hallucinations, Paranoia, Anxiety, Disturbing Themes, let me know if i missed anything
Description: You ran from it all for a reason, it's easier to disappear when everyone thinks you're dead, but what happens when someone wants to bring you dangerously close to your past, the one you've been trying to run from for so long?
A/N: Trying to not panic over the fact i'm finally releasing this- Hope you enjoy it!!
[Next Chapter]
Through all your problems in life, your most prominent ones always seem to have a connection between the weather, and unnecessary questions. Since the dawn of time people have had this annoying notion of being very nosy.
There aren’t many places in the world you've been to where it's different. They can deny it all they want, it's all the same no matter where you go. Simultaneously the weather has never quite agreed with you. It makes your nonstop travel tedious, a draining task that often takes more time than you'd like it to.
Even here, with the amount of time it took you to get here in the first place because of the weather. It's an ironic turn when only a few days after your arrival, the sun turns the concrete into a fire from hell. A stark contrast to the storms and rain, that kept your flight delayed, again and again.
The heat makes you want to never leave that little flower shop, with the big fan in the corner. If it wasn't for the sharp floral smell, and the continuous buzzing of the thing, you could even have considered working here. It's not prone to traffic of many people, and those who are here are usually in a hurry, so they don't engage you in too much meaningless chatter, while you would work.
Unfortunately, you rarely have that luxury, every turn and twist in your day-to-day life, threatening you with the underlying feeling of being caught, of being known.
A loud sound erupts from the back, when the old man drops a pair of scissors. Children squeal outside the shop, as soon as the ball goes into the hoop placed above the window. It's a disaster waiting to happen. However, it kept the children happy and busy, in the early hours of the morning, when there was nothing to do yet, and the heat wasn't high enough to spoil their activity.
The quiet sound of snips continues soon after, the man continuously giving you odd looks from your request. You don't pay it any mind. Your hands nervously clutch at your wallet, the ache in your knuckles barely noticeable anymore.
One of the kids outside pick up the ball again, launching it at the hoop but missing by an inch. The ball bounces back, and you realize it before you see it. The silence between the kids is almost comical, the squealing and happy yelling gone within an instant.
A little streak of crimson runs down from the kid's cheek, the bruise already forming with unnatural colors. The other kids flock around them, fuzzing about with caring tones and careful touches. One of the older ones finds a rag to gently dab away the blood.
You wonder if it would still be warm to the touch, metallic in taste, an awful sign of life.
The kid's eyes keep staring ahead, through the window. You could pretend that they're looking at the pretty flowers, but you hold their eye contact with purpose. They look defeated in their shock, too big of a reaction for a little accident in your flawed opinion.
You could've stopped them, prevented it before it happened, they wouldn't have gotten hurt.
They continue to stare you down, a frown settled on their lips. Do they really think that you could've stopped them. The kids would've laughed at you at best. The eyes multiply tenfold when the other kids notice the injured one's staring. You keep it up, not backing down despite the uncomfortable feeling of too much attention on you. You've been too exposed today.
You've had eyes in the back of your neck ever since you left your room this morning. Not the usual way either, this time it's been from an unknown source.
You don't miss the man leaned up against the wall to a clothing boutique. His hood raised up, his lips moving to speak every now and then. He's doing a good job at pretending to watch the kids have fun and play.
The old man clears his throat. He's already arranged the flowers beautifully, they now rest on the counter, waiting for you to pay up.
You put down your payment in coins, ignore his grumbling in favor of grabbing the flowers and getting out of there in a hurry.
The café has been your only place of respite. A quaint little space you found when you first came to this place. It sits open to the streets, while still managing to feel packed away. Behind those old curtains, and dainty accessories adorning yellowish walls, is the best coffee you've had in years.
Ding
A pleasant little sound fills your ears every time you open the door, and step down in the lowlight place. As much as you liked it, every time you were here, you'd be fighting your instincts to make the sound again and again and again. Your own mental oblivion urging you forward.
Coffee is already placed on your table. Steam rising from the little blue cup, the one with a chipped side, unofficially assigned to you. The little corner is always free when you come in. There was always the question of whether the little spot was unpopular, or if there were other external factors for its lack of use.
It was hard to tell, by the already general lack of customers and patrons, but the little seat was always there for you.
Confined in your own little corner, you would spend the mornings of the past month sipping coffee, and looking like you belonged in a prison cell. With the amount of paranoia your posture exuded, it's impossible to not think you had something going on.
Luck has a tendency not to follow you in places like these, so you refrain from interacting too much with anything. It leaves you looking a bit like a social reject, but you comfort yourself in the knowledge that in a month, none of these people will see your face again.
At least people don't ask questions here.
You walk over to the counter and place the bouquet of spider lilies down next to the registry. Being careful not to disturb the beautiful order the nice old man had put them in. Your eyes linger for but a moment.
A meek old woman owns the place. Elena. She took a quick liking to you the first you arrived here a few weeks ago. She seemed to understand you in an underlying way, she never asked you the hard questions, she accepted your secrecy in a way only a mother who's seen the worst can do. It freaks you out.
You still feel bad about lying to her.
Had she been someone else, you might've been more inclined. To let the woman know who -what- you really are, would only put her in more harm’s way than necessary. That would even be before she could get a chance to hate you, for the things you've done to stay alive.
The wood protests when you settle into the chair. You pull back on the urge to wiggle in it. The old woman was nowhere to be seen, but the little rustle of pots and pans in the back gave you clear indication of where she is. There's always the fresh smell of newly baked pastries in the mornings, just before everyone wakes up for their daily hustles.
Not many people would come this early, making it a regular occurrence for you to spend that time here. Little hole in the wall only really served the continuing patrons, most others took to the more populated places.
A flash of light shines through the thin curtains, illuminating the dust swirling around in the air, as well as the colorful pillows carefully placed in each chair. They felt out of place to everything else in here. Newer. You quickly learnt a lot of things about the mentality of the people living here, you had to if you intended to blend in inconspicuously. Something you found out the hard way, was that the old woman tended to take things personally.
It didn't matter how much you meant it positively, negatively, no meaning at all. One little comment a faint evening, and the next day the pillows were all replaced.
You squint your eyes from the raging orange and put your focus back on the coffee. It's no longer steaming as much as before. You hadn't originally picked this place because it would provide you cover. In all fairness, if the place wasn't as cozy on the inside, it would likely be shady enough to be conspicuous, from the odd looking outside alone.
Yet still, it serves as your little paradise.
You find your brain goes quiet when you're in here. You can sip your coffee in peace, unaware of the shadows creeping in the corners of your eyes. It's numbing. Your little respite away from the danger outside, the danger within, and with Elena's nurturing soul, it makes you not want to leave.
Ding
Unfortunately, fate has a funny little tendency to give you the middle finger. It has never been on your side, and you doubt it is ever going to be.
Your little paradise is about to be invaded. With lingering smells of gunpowder, and blood so thick it will stain your soul. Patches of blonde and black hair, one making its way to your corner, and the other stationary at the door.
You take a sip of your coffee. It tastes wrong.
The blonde woman pulls out the chair opposite of you. She takes a moment to get comfortable before leaning in, her arms neatly folded on the table. She's playing on your domesticity, your familiarity, you know her too well to expect anything else. You don't doubt if you were look up, you'll see those blue eyes full of desperation, ready to ask you to move heaven and hell for her.
She's a few years too late.
Much to your surprise she keeps quiet when you take another sip. How kind of her. It doesn't last long. As soon as you put the chipped cup down, and acknowledge her, she opens her mouth to speak.
"No" you intercept her.
She closes her mouth, opens it, closes it. "You haven't even heard what I have to say," a small smile plays on her lips. It seems innocent enough. You know her better. She has blood on her hands, the same way you have blood on your teeth.
"The answer is no."
"I wouldn't come to you if it wasn't serious," her folded hands tighten, "You know that." She's honorable, as far as you know, but you're not ready to get back into your harness, so she can pull on your collar.
The next sip burns your tongue. You bite down on it, choke the yelp deep down in your throat. "Laswell..." you speak her name with urgency. The quicker you can shut her up and get her to leave, the quicker you can get back to making your plan to move.
"I need you to just hear me out alright?" she pauses, "it's in your best interest."
She's not letting you leave this place unless you agree.
Your eyes dart over to the man standing at the entrance. There's more than one way to get out of here, the one he is blocking is the least convenient. But you suppose you do owe it to Laswell to hear her out.
If you narrow it all down to the dirt and bones, she is the only reason why you're sitting in this café alive, while remaining dead to the world.
Your would-be grave is far from here. Dug and scraped with your own charred hands and broken nails.
Crack crack, bury the sin beneath blood and bone.
You can still hear it when you unfocus your brain, they won't let you forget.
"It's him, he's back" the words soil your throat, and they didn't even come from your own lips. "He's brought his group back along with him, and they're causing a bigger disturbance," It's sickening that she's even bringing this up.
She continues despite your grimace, "I would have pulled out every other resource I could before coming here, but you're the only person I can rely on to see this through."
She wants you to go back.
Go back, Go back, Go back.
"You're the only one I know that has both skill and cause."
Your eyebrow twitches, and you bite down on your tongue to not retaliate. You can taste the metal before you relent. The last thing you want to do is cause a scene in here.
The old woman doesn't deserve this.
"I understand your apprehension to this, but you know how important it is that we put a stop to him, you should want this more than anyone else."
The chair screeches as you push yourself to your feet. Your palms connect with the table, and it in turn rattles. The man who was standing stationary at the door breaks form. He reaches behind him, and let's his hand settle on something.
Not that you thought she would come here unarmed.
Laswell calls your name, bringing your attention back to her. She's a lot calmer than her jumpy backup. "It's just a talk, nothing more for now," it's all lies is what is.
"Bring attack dogs to all your family meetings?" you don't settle back into the chair. You were done with this place the moment Laswell and her soldier set foot in it.
She spares a single glance back at her friend, something reassuring in her face, it makes him ease back up to form. "Fine, there's no going around it with you," she wants it to all be lighthearted, to ease you in, you won't fall for it again.
"I am cashing in the favor, you'll be properly paid of course, and you can settle a score, does it really sound that bad?"
"Yes."
You stare into her blue eyes. She smells faintly of smoke. Her eyes won't leave you, but you see the contemplation in them, the searching of your figure. She's looking for the right bait, looking for the best way to sink her hooks into your ribs and drag you along.
"I don't want to have to do this to you..." her voice is quieter. It almost surprises you, but you know what she's talking about. She's in a bind herself.
She's not going to wait forever for you to say yes, and she needs you. On paper you are the perfect candidate for whatever she has planned. Though you doubt your mental profile lives up to the required standards. Certain things can be overlooked in desperation, you suppose.
"I'll hear you out," you start "somewhere else." The determination in her eyes border hope. It's pitiful that she thinks you'll have so much influence on her mission. You're really not all that.
You have the basic training, but also enough history to disqualify you, from any position within the military ever again. Laswell let's out a sigh of relief. Was she really that worried?
"Everything alright petal?" your eyes snap to Elena, a pot of something steaming in her hands that she places on the counter.
Laswell's backup twitches, seemingly surprised that the place wasn't as empty as he thought it was. You give the old woman a curt nod. It's enough to make her go about her day as normal, and you silently thank God that she isn't one to question.
"Always pick the jumpy attack dogs?"
Laswell stands up, breathing in harshly. If she doesn't like your resistance, she can pick someone else. "The squad is still weary from the last op." She explains.
You nod quietly in response. At least that's one thing you can sympathize with.
"Come, I'm not going to wait around for you to change your mind."
You hope Elena likes the flowers.
You feel like an idiot. Not even an hour out of the town you resided in, is an off the map military base. You are disgusted, appalled, shocked, disappointed. Every word in the book they could find.
You had prided yourself in being able to outrun anything. When Laswell helped you fake your own death, it was even easier. The amount of preparation you had to do when moving from place to place, was to put it mildly, extensive.
Somehow you completely missed this place.
It has your head reeling. Not even the rumbling of the car, or the passing outside, is enough to distract you. You catch Laswell eyes in the rearview mirror. She was first to get behind the wheel, which is a...choice.
Allowing out a soft sigh, you let your head rest against the window. The base is out past the middle of nowhere. You'd go crazy if you had to count all the corn fields you've passed by now.
Oh look...a cow.
"Nervous?"
The man next to you startles you out of your thoughts. You spare him a glance, not allowing yourself to linger too long at a time. He's casually dressed, his weapons hidden cleverly beneath layers of clothing.
If you remember right, Laswell called him Gaz. Odd nickname but not like you can judge, you've been called way worse.
He's got a good build, even with the blue hoodie you can see how his muscles fill it out. You don't doubt he could deck you fast if he wanted to. There'd be very little you could do about it, so out of form as you are. Occupied with everything else and staying out of sight, you haven't much time to keep yourself excessively fit.
Laswell picks her attack dogs well.
How sweet the sound of his bones breaking beneath your boot would sound.
You shake your head, grimacing at the thought. The little cracks that fill your ears are deafening.
"Don' worry, Cap's nice enough"
You don't doubt it, you just can't find it in yourself to care. Promises can so easily be broken; at the end of the day everyone wants something. That something has a tendency of putting you in danger, so you're not particularly excited.
"Gaz..." Laswell looks through the rearview mirror, making brief eye contact with the sergeant. Does she really think you that unhinged to not handle a simple conversation. A bit insulting.
"What...jus' making conversation," Gaz mumbles and turns his head to the side, subsequently joining you in looking out at the passing cows.
How much would she even tell Gaz about you. He couldn't know much, over half the things you're included in would be classified, and he's but a sergeant. His standoffish stance in the café was likely just to assess the danger, but the switch up is kind of freaking you out.
He seems nice enough overall, but you can't decide whether or not you actually want him to be. In a way it would be easier if he wasn't. You're not here to cultivate new friendships, you're here because you don't have another choice.
Whatever conversation he tries to make, dies out for the rest of the ride.
As soon as the car is put in park, Gaz jumps out. Gone within a blink of an eye, which you came to expect. The rest of the way was spent in awkward silence, and as much as you'd rather have silence, it was bad even for your taste.
Laswell takes it upon herself to lead you through the base. It's hard to ignore the looks and glares you get. You're an unknown variable, and without Laswell, you likely seem like an outright danger. It's a bit uncanny, to think that you once stood on their side, shoulder to shoulder with a sibling made of war.
She doesn't talk to you as you walk through base. You rely on your prior knowledge of the layout of UK military bases, to know where your exits would be. She parts with you in front of the "captains" office, a small throwaway promise to come get you once she has talked to him.
You don't question it, but it does make you raise a brow. Has she even told the captain you'd be coming? He would be the one supervising you when Laswell wouldn't be there, it's a pretty big thing to leave him in the dark about.
As soon as she closes the door, you let out a frustrated gust of air. This was already turning more complicated than you wanted it to be. Why didn't you resist a bit more, protest a bit more, you didn't even negotiate better terms with her. The shock alone, of seeing her again so soon after everything, rendered you unable to think logically.
At least the hallway is relatively empty.
Shadows start to creep in the corner of your vision. Thousands of little things hide there, occupying the otherwise empty space around.
You read the inscription on the door; Captain John Price.
The captain wasn't completely unknown to you. Though it all stems from rumors you heard, when you were a recruit. A few of your teammates had spoken about him in quiet whispers. Back then he didn't have the rank of Captain yet, nor a whole taskforce to command. He's come a long way.
Could they be similar?
No.
No one else could be like that, not that far. Especially not an old Idol, that would just be cruel.
"Kate you can't be serious...have you seen their file."
You perk up when you hear the slightly raised voices from inside. They're talking about you. You tilt your head closer. A grumbled brass voice sounds out, it reminds you of that of a dragon, most likely one belonging to the captain. You try to put a face to the name, but you can't remember any of the old pictures you saw. Every vivid image in your mind is distortedly different.
"You asked me to find extra help, this is it."
You'd laugh in her face if she was out here. There are much more qualified people than you, even with dealing with a group such as this.
"You could read one line in this and know they should not be handling a gun; much less be sent out in possible high-pressure situations."
You nod along for no one to see. You've done this song and dance trying to get reenlisted, twice before. More for the protection aspects than anything else. It would’ve been a lot easier getting your hands on weapons that way, instead of the unconventional way you've resorted to in your time away.
You did give yourself a bit of credit. Despite everything you had fared quite well for yourself, without Laswell's extended help. It came with strings, so you had turned it down.
At least you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere, which to be quite fair, you wouldn't put it past you for it to happen.
"John..."
"Kate..."
You start to wonder if Price would look like a dragon in human form. He already has the voice to match. Maybe he has a fiery beard, a tone that commands the respect of thousands. Would he hoard his possessions, to a disturbing extent?
The door scrapes against the floor when its opened. The sound makes you want to tear your ears off.
"Come on in" Kate waves you inside, making sure to close the door behind you. His office is simplistic, no personal touches around, only the standard issued items rest on his desk. From what you remember, he's used to moving from place to place often, it's likely that this office won't be his anymore by the end of the week.
"This is Captain John Price" She introduces you, and you offer him a nod of hopefully mutual respect. It's not reciprocated.
At first glance you notice two things about the captain.
One.
He stands tall. You don't doubt no matter how many meters you have in you, the man has ways of making you feel small.
He has a beard, beautiful eyes too, when you find it in you to look past the serious expression. It tells you all you need to know about him. At least he's not incompetent, he knows you shouldn't be here. Anyone would know after a single glance at you, even if Kate seems to think otherwise.
And two.
Price doesn't look like a dragon.
You don't know why it disappoints you. You knew very well he would not, and still, you find your heart sinking just little at his dismissive look.
It's a fantasy.
You stopped dreaming years ago; you have no intention of starting the childish notion again. You see enough things that weren't real, why add to it.
Price let's out a long sigh. His frustration with you is clear, but Laswell is steadfast in her opinion, no matter the resistance she wants you in this. The look she's sending his way, does as much as a firm set of words would. He folds his arms over his chest, looking back at her with as much determination as she is.
The quiet is...intruding.
You feel like you're witnessing something that you shouldn't be. The type of conversations, that your boss would have about you in private, to decide what to do with your behavior. You feel a need to say something, to break the silence and remind the two in the middle of a staring contest, that you're still here.
"Fine" Price concedes reluctantly, "but if there is anything-"
"There won't be any problems," she assures him "right?"
You freeze up the moment she refers to you. What were you supposed to say to that. You didn't want to be here, it was only out of obligation to her, to pay the blood debt you owe her.
You shrug your shoulders, finding a spot in the floor to stare at. The stain morphs and changes, subtly getting bigger and smaller, wider, and thinner all at once. It bleeds into the tile. You try to place a shape to it, but it changes too fast for you to decide on anything.
"Right then," Price moves over to his desk and pulls out a folder of multiple files. "You're going to want to know who you're going to work with," he slams the folder down on the wooden table. It creeks. You fight back a flinch.
"Kate has promised me you're going to be able to help," he doesn't sound convinced, "we'll see what you can do."
Laswell gives Price another glare. It would be comforting -her protectiveness- if it wasn't shrouded in obligation. It's laughable how much she believes you can solve her problem.
"You'll be accompanying the 141 in this, they've been working on this for the past month." Laswell chimes in as Price gets out the files of each respective member.
"I thought you needed my help immediately."
"I told you I was going to pull out all other resources before bringing you back into this." There's something pitying in her eyes, it makes you feel sick.
You were always going to be in this. No matter how much you hated it. It has been a part of so much of your life, there's nothing you can do to peel it off your skin. Lord knows you've tried to.
"Yes...We've been gathering as much information as we can on the group," Price leans his hip against the table. "We haven't found much, like the last time they were around, their efforts are very secretive, but we know where they're grouping. We have received reports, threats, missing persons rapports, all the signs the same group gave a few years ago, it seems very possible they have the same leader as well."
"The Divine Principle" you dig your nails into your palms. Your eyes catch the captains, now suddenly more attentive of you.
"You-"
"That's what they call themselves. I've hunted them before; I thought Laswell said." You don't bother looking towards the woman on your left, this is between you and the captain. He didn't seem to be quite convinced of your knowledge or skills. You didn't blame the man. You couldn't prove your skills worthy just yet, so your knowledge had to suffice.
You don't know why you suddenly feel the need to prove it to him, but there's something about his presence that makes you want him to like you. It's a rare feeling, the last time you felt like this you-
"She did, but she did not explain much about you, other than what's available in your file."
"I know enough to know they aren't good people," you switch up your stance, mimicking the way he was standing when you first came in. Your attention catches on the files again. You wonder who they could be, what their skills would include, if they would collide with your own.
You weren't used to working in groups like this, it was going to be different.
"Then you also know how important this mission is, they've done irreparable damage in the past, we can't have it happen again."
Price pushes one file towards you, holding the other three files in his grasp. "Gaz, who you already met as I understand it." You nod, thinking back to the man. Part of you had expected to meet him again, you should've realized he likely already was in the taskforce if he was accompanying Laswell.
"There's Soap, he'll be enthusiastic having a new member on the team I'll assure you that." Price places his file for you to see, giving you a moment before moving on. John MacTavish, Scottish by the looks of it, and an interesting hair choice of a mohawk. You're almost surprised they let him keep it.
"Lastly Ghost, and myself" he puts down the last file. It has no attached picture, but that isn't what initially grabs your attention as out of place as it is. What settles deep in your bones, is his name.
Simon Riley
Simon.
That Simon.
Your brow furrows as you read his name over and over and over again, gradually wishing he had a picture so you could confirm it for yourself. You hadn't seen or heard the name in years, not since you left Manchester. Was there really a chance it could be him.
"There's no picture," you pick up his file, as if reading his name closer would bring clarity to your adding questions.
"Never is," Price observes your hesitance the way you give Ghost's file more attention than the rest, "Do you know each other?"
"Might, it was a long time ago though, I doubt he'd even remember me."
He observes you for what feels like forever, trying to look past your carefully crafted mask, to gouge out the state of the relationship. "Well, it'd be good to have some familiarity on the team," he shrugs "can make the transition easier for you."
Yeah, if he doesn't despise you still.
You don't feel the need to tell the captain of your possibly declined relationship with the man. There's still a chance it's not him. You don't know why you're trying to fool yourself that it's not. You knew even back then that he wanted to join the military, that it had been all he ever wanted.
He's a lieutenant now. Despite everything you can't help but feel a little proud of him for making it this far, even if it's tinged with sadness.
"Will it be a problem?" Laswell brings your attention to her. Her voice layered with a sense of supposed knowledge that she is not supposed to have. It's hard to not get a little irritated, at this point you have no idea how much information the woman has in her skull. Information that you'd love nothing more than to erase from her memory.
"No, it will not" she isn't expecting any other answer. It's not like she's suddenly going to let you go if you do. Worst case scenario she restricts your workspace to avoid a conflict, and if she so desperately wants you to do this job, then you need your space.
"Make it quick, yeah?"
Gaz comes to a stop in front of the door to your little motel room. He makes a quick glance down each side of the hall. Deeming it clear, he leans back against the yellow tinted walls. Too bad he can't see the shadows breathing down his neck.
Though you'd never experienced anything shady or violent, you knew there was a rising criminal activity in the motel. You just never really spent enough time here to witness any of it.
"Yeah yeah," you grimace fumbling with your keys. You really should get rid of some of them, most of them didn't have a purpose anymore. Though like with most things, you had a hard time letting go.
The inside of your the little room you rented is exactly as you left it. Dresser door broken and splintered, curtains half closed, shadows looming in every corner and crevice.
Home sweet home, or something to that effect.
It's not a lot, but you don't complain, you've certainly lived with worse. Not staying in one spot for more than a month at a time didn't leave many options for work, so you had made do.
As much as you trusted Laswell's skills, and her promises, you had your own wariness to battle against. This way was the only one that actually made you feel like you had an advantage, against those that meant you harm.
The duffel bag with most of your belongings, had been hastily shoved into the dresser the morning prior. You find it uninterrupted in the same place, as expected. You glance towards the window and mark your possible exit. Should the man outside turn for whatever reason, the window would be loose, and you could break through the rusted glass frames.
For now, though, you had to trust that this taskforce you were to temporarily join, didn't actually want you dead. Yet.
Your variables are changing, and fast. There isn't a bigger part of you that enjoys this, and meeting up with Simon again could only prove trouble. He probably still held some resentment towards you, there's only the small hope that he keeps things professional.
You look down into your bag, rummaging around in the sealed pocket to locate your pile of papers. Years old and stained letters, some answered, some not. It was your only means of communication for a time, until it all stopped. You don't think he ever found out why, he would've contacted you if he did right? Or maybe he had decided then and there you weren't worth his energy.
Pushing the thoughts aside proved a much harder task than normal. You had gotten used to putting all into a tightly sealed box in your brain, but now that you knew for certain it would all come flooding out, it proved it harder to contain overall.
There isn't much to collect from the room itself, most of your things were already packed and ready for an easy go. You pick up an extra set of shoes and stuff them in before venturing to the bathroom.
You had to give it to this place, they had some of the most uncomfortable bathrooms you'd had the pleasure of occupying. The mirror is stained and dirty, the tile an ugly brown color, and not even to talk about the toilet itself, or the odd smell. Though the latter could be explained by you and your own ministrations.
Your eyes land on the cross tossed into the tub. Little thing on a chain, the same one you had worn for years at a time. Dried blood still gives it that discoloration.
Your knees click when you reach down and place it in the cup of your hand. To think that this little thing carries so much of you. It has seen it all, witnessed your greatest heights making you feel light as a feather, and watched all your sins unfold, burning like hellfire against your chest.
You've never hated a thing more.
Slipping it around your neck is a thoughtless process. The muscle memory in your fingers do the work for you, securing the chain on the back of your neck, like reattaching a leash.
You stand up straight and walk to the sink. Your toothbrush has fallen, it's green hue so faded it's turning white in some areas. You really should just get a new one.
Your reflection catches in the mirror, and you make the mistake of not looking away. Your face turns to a blob of colors and bleeding effects. There's nothing to tell and nothing to see. Your eyes cave in, your nose splitting apart, your ears fuse with your hair and your fingers are too long dragging off your skin.
You barely recognize yourself anymore. You know it's in there, begging to come out, but it'll only come worse than before if you let it.
It all morphs together. A thousand different shadows standing behind you, their long digits running over your arms and shoulders, beckoning you forward. They lean into your ears, fester in your brain, in your eyesight. The shadows in the corners are always the worst in front of mirrors.
It's your fault. You know what you did. You know that they would've still been alive if you hadn't done it. Why are you still here. Why do you think you can hide? You always go back, it's your place, it's ingrained on your skin.
There's never been an out for people like you.
You grab your toothbrush and exit the bathroom.
"You really been livin' in here?"
You clasp a hand over your mouth, masking the shriek you would've let out. You thought he was going to stay outside.
Gaz looks into mirror hanging next to the dresser with the broken door. He inspects his reflection, rubbing a thumb over a smudge of dirt on his neck.
"It was a temporary solution," you tell him as soon as you get your spiraling mind under control. You walk over to the duffel bag on the bed, throwing in the rest of your dwindling belongings.
You can feel his eyes on you, likely judging you. At least he has the decency to keep his mouth shut. You couldn't afford nicer in your current situation, and moving as frequently as you were, this was the least costly option.
"For how long?"
He walks over to the bed, glancing into your bag once before continuing his move around your room. You didn't truly know the answer to that question yourself.
Very long, too long, as long as you can hide like a coward.
"As long as necessary," you answer him while zipping up your duffel bag. It slings around your shoulder, fits neatly against your back. It's a familiar lightweight. Perhaps it wouldn't be that bad, you were planning your move anyway.
He gives you a curious look, waiting for you to elaborate. You don't. His shoulders sag a bit when he seems to realize. "Hurry it up," he says and walks to the door, "don't got all day, we have a plane to catch."
He leaves you alone in the hollowing room. It turns a shade darker when the sun shifts outside the window. The shadows consume more of the room. Millions of little eyes watching you in secret.
You walk over to the wall and kneel. It feels wrong to do. There's so many little dents and scrapes hammered into it, the pattern of the wall hiding the little room perfectly. You bang on it once and quietly. Moving the cutout piece out of place, you reach inside to find the gun.
You check it, still fully loaded, and put it down amongst what little clothes you have. It's only for necessity of course, nothing vicious yet.
Come come come.
Your head tilts towards the window, the curtains managing to flow ever so slightly. They bleed into the background, the murky watery color splitting with the patterns on the walls, and the greenery outside.
All of it dark and gloomy. Threatening.
Your legs carry you there. The sun has disappeared behind a set of clouds, leaving dark promises of rain and thunder. The whispers are always the loudest when you're alone. They're not always saying anything. Sometimes they're shaming you, reminding you, other times it's incessant noise.
Occasionally they take shape. Shadow figures with creepy smiles, wide bloodshot eyes. It hides down in the forest behind the motel, to watch you through the window to your room. It's crooked grin bleeds and oozes. You forcefully blink a few times, trying to will it away, but you know it won't disappear until you get distracted, or it wants to go.
You don't hear it; it merely mouths it to you.
He'll find you.
And the scariest part is, you know it's right.
There's never been anywhere you could hide.
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୨୧ On Purpose Karma x (fem) Reader || Chapter: 03 ୨୧
Prev || 03 Café Talks || next
— "Hi, How can we help you today?"
As [Name] and Karma enter the Café, they're greeted by Isogai. Karma winces as the realization of Isogai working there hits him like a ton of bricks. He can't believe he forgot such an important detail.
It's not Isogai he's worried about, if Karma asked him to, he'd keep things a secret. The problem arises if another one of his classmates are here and it somehow spreads to the main campus or even worse- Korosensei, who is known for getting overly involved in other peoples relationships.
A few tables away Nagisa is attempting to back track, "Are you sure we should be here? Don't you think this is too intrusive even for us..?"
"Nagisa, do you realize how much dirt the sadist has on everyone? This is our chance to get back at him so don't wimp out now."
"I am not wimping out! I think If we asked he'd-"
Rio whisper-shouts "Wait look! They're here!"
Karma scans the area, just in case. He chose the café since it's usually quiet, much like today. The only people here were the usual older ladies doting on Isogai trying to set him up with their grandchildren, and an unusual group of people decked in all black and sunglasses. He thought maybe they were coming back from a funeral.
"[Name], you go get us a table I'll order everything."
Name nods, grateful she doesn't have to carry the pressure of that.
Isogai leads Karma over to the register, thinking now is probably the best shot he has to ask any questions.
"Didn't realize you and [Name] are friends."
"She's the only person I talked to when I was in A class, aside from Nagisa."
"Ah makes sense, should I go ask her what she want's?"
"It's okay, [Name] orders the same thing every time, [favorite food + drink]."
"What about you?"
"Surprise me."
Isogai sweat drops "Are you sure? What if you don't like what I pick?"
"I'm sure, thanks Isogai."
"Anytime, have fun with your date..?"
"You won't tell Korosensei about this right? You know how he gets."
"I won't tell him." Isogai feels guilty, Korosensei would find out about this whether he kept his mouth shut or not.
He was in a tough position, he didn't want to lie to Karma but he didn't want to out four of his classmates and his teacher that would hear anything he whispered.
༉‧₊˚.
"The pudding is so good!" Kayano exclaimed cheerily.
"We know Kayano, keep it down!" Rio hushed her as she took her sunglasses off.
"I think we should get out of here." Nagisa piped up
Rio laughs "Go ahead, Karma's going to see you walk right out."
After shutting him up she then addresses Korosensei's uninvited presence, "If you're going to be here make yourself useful, put the pen down."
"But this is where my inspiration is most flowing..."
"I can’t see anything from here! We should move closer." suggests Hinano,
"No need for that, our job here is done."
"But we haven't heard anything." Rio questioned
"Did you forget I have an advanced sense of hearing?" Korosensei proudly announces before he continues
"Karma confirmed to Isogai it's a date and asked him not to let me find out moments ago! I don't understand why he wouldn't want me to know but that's not the focus..."
Hinano replies "Makes sense, I wouldn't want you knowing if I were him either."
༉‧₊˚.
Karma grabbed [Names] phone out of her hand, she gave him a half hearted smile. "Who's more important? Me or your phone."
She laughed as she snatched it back
"Sorry, it's Asano. He's been texting me about an event the student council is working on."
"I didn't hear anything about an event."
"I didn't mention it? I've been so stressed out about it I haven't even had time to complain. It's a tutoring group like we usually have but this time we're planning out the lessons beforehand with actual lecture presentations."
"If it's stressful just let them do everything."
She smiled "No way- Asano is such a control freak I think he'd show up at my door if I ignored the messages!"
[Name] pressed her lips together, she'd been wanting to ask Karma something for while but hadn't found a good moment, she figured now was as good as it could get,
"Are you still planning to stay in End Class? I miss having classes with you."
"I miss that too but I like End class, it's not as bad as everyone makes it sound."
"You have to hike up a hill every morning and get judged every time you walk near the main campus. What makes you want to stay?"
"For one, there's no Asano"
She cracked a smile "Hey! There's also no me."
If he wanted to stay, that was his decision. No matter how many times she told herself this she continued to spiral thinking about how everyone in her life was seemingly growing distant.
The explosion of the moon was a nasty reminder that nothing was here to stay. Everything she had today could be gone by tomorrow.
She didn't have any friends other than Kaho, who's been too busy for her. They haven't hung out alone in weeks because of how caught up Kaho has been in her relationships. If Kaho can grow distant in such a short amount of time whats to say Karma won't.
The more name thinks about it the more her voice grows anxiously.
"You won't consider it? Your grades are perfect, as long as you stop fighting they'll want you back."
"And if I don't feel like going back?"
"This isn't just what you feel, You're one of the smartest students- I don't want to watch your work go down the drain over some stupid fights."
"Stupid? if everyone in the main campus wasn't so stuck up, and the teachers weren't so conniving then there wouldn't be problems."
"Don't be like that, I know you're helping people but what's stopping you from coming back? You don't miss me? Why am I the only one who cares about that?"
Her eyes water, but she keeps the tears from falling.
"I do care about that, what reason have I given you to believe I don't?”
"You aren't thinking of me. I'm starting to doubt you ever do!"
[Name] doesn't know what she's talking about. Everything he's doing for her. She doesn't know her life is on the line and if he left E-class he'd have no control on the outcome. The words fall out before he can backtrack,
"I'm thinking about your future! I'm trying to make things better for everyone!"
"Staying there has everything to do with everyone but me!"
He bites his tongue. He's going to say too much if he continues.
He cares alot more than she realizes. He feels so desperate to assassinate Koro sensei because if they don't it won't just be him dying, it'll be [Name]- and the rest of the world too.
She scoffed, "You're pushing me away, the same way you did Nagisa."
He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, they realized someone was coming towards them.
"Karma, [Name]? Are you guys alright?" It was a familiar voice, concerned and hesitant.
"...sorry were we loud?" [Name's] anger fading into resignation.
Isogai sets their order down on the table,
"No, don't worry!" He smiles reassuringly, [Name] couldn't be sure if he was telling the truth or simply trying to not embarrass her.
"We're fine. [Names] just tired."
Karma takes a sip of the drink isogai picked "Matcha?"
Isogai nods with an awkward smile, he's not sure whether he should ignore the fact they were fighting a second ago or try helping, he decides they can fix it themselves.
"I'll leave you alone then, If you need anything else call me over!"
"Thank you Isogai."
Karma mimics her voice in the most exaggerated way "Thank you Isogaiii, don't leave yet Isogai!"
"I don't sound like that."
"You're right, you were smiling way more."
She scoffs in an attempt to hide her laugh, "You're so petty."
He shrugs, not able to deny it "Wanna try my drink?"
[Name] pulls his cup towards herself "I didn't know you liked Matcha."
"Me neither."
He noticed the confusion in her face as she furrowed her eyebrows but he ignored it wanting to get to the root of her problems before they re-escalated.
"[Name], I'm not replacing you or whatever else you've been telling yourself, but I'm set on staying in E-class."
"I know, but we haven't been seeing each other and you got new friends and it's getting to my head."
"If you want to be in the same class so badly just start failing until they throw you down with me."
[Name] deadpanned, her phone rang for the 5th time since they got there.
"Asano would probably stop annoying you too."
She knew he was kidding, but part of her was considering it.
"He wants me to meet with the rest of the council at the library in half an hour."
"Let's eat quickly then, we'll walk there together."
Twenty minutes later they picked up all their belongings getting ready to leave, when [Name] noticed a green haired girl nearly drooling at the sight of pudding options Isogai brought out from the back, she was hovered over the glass display- Nagisa was pulling her hand trying to get her back to their table.
Name pointed at the interaction "Karma, isn't that Nagisa with a girl over there?"
"Huh? Yeah- that's Kayano..." He trails off when he notices their strange outfit choices and it dawns on him. He looks over at the strange group from earlier and makes eye contact with Korosensei. He decides to hurry her out the door before she can catch wind of anything.
"[Name] let's go, you're going to be late."
"I want to say hi to Nagisa, and since when do you care about being on time?"
Dragging her out the door he says "Since today- let's hurry before Asano calls you again."
#ansatsu kyoushitsu#AkabaneOnPurpose#karma akabane#karma x reader#assassination classroom x reader#karma akabane x reader#akabane karma x reader#assassination classroom#assclass
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insecure (DW x reader)
A/N: So sorry for the long wait for another story! I have been at college🙃
Dean Winchester x Insecure! reader (I think this is Season 4, Dean)
Request: can you do a dean Winchester NSFW blurb/headcanon? some praise is included if that’s ok :) maybe the reader feels insecure and Dean discovers and proves to her how much he loves her. :))
Warnings: MINORS BEWARE, NSFW AHEAD AFTER THE CUT, and fluff if you not into cutesy stuff.
I also am making a tag list!
View my masterlist
*Gif is not mine
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
You couldn't last remember the last time you had an "off" day from hunting. It must have been forever since the last time you could finally breathe without fearing someone or something to come after you.
You and Dean were sitting at the dining table in the motel room in Lawrence, Dean was "attempting" to do research on Sam's laptop while he was out getting some food at some burger joint. You could see how frustrated he was getting at the laptop, it was very cute. Seeing him get upset by technology like a little old man, Dean was not old at all. He was only 30, but if you asked him he would say he felt like he was 50 with back problems.
You often thought about how lucky you got Dean. His excellent looks weren't a huge thing but it was definitely. He was so strong, the strongest you ever knew. Plus, he was brilliant. Even though he wouldn't admit that he was. You felt so safe being around him no matter the situation, your safety was his number one priority.
But, you couldn't help but think that you didn't deserve Dean.
That someone else is out there. Stronger, more intelligent, prettier, perfect skin with no scars from random demons, vampires, or ghosts. Someone was out there and he hadn't found them yet.
"Hey." His gruff, voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You hadn't realized that he has been staring at you losing your mind quietly. "What's on your mind sweetheart?"
Dean slowly closed the laptop, and slid it to the side so his entire attention was now on you. His green eyes were something you loved. Loved for him to be on you, but right now his eyes were watching you like you were on fire. You could fill your cheeks slowly and get warmer and warmer. The effect the man has on you was truly something.
"Nothing. I don't even remember what I was thinking about." You look at his green eyes and hope he buys it. You don't want to talk about how you are feeling. Not yet at least.
Dean leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and his eyes piercing into you. Like he was staring into my soul. He always had a way of getting me to talk. To spill all my deepest, darkest, secrets. Not this time, you're not gonna give in. "Sweetheart, tell me."
"There is nothing to tell Dean." you stood your ground, not looking into his eyes.
Dean stood up, pushed his chair in, and turns your chair towards him. Kneeling in front of you. "Nothing? Yeah, I don't believe that. Ever since we got here you have been sitting in this chair staring off into space like a deer when they see headlights." Dean takes your hands now, "What's going on?"
You look back into his eyes and could fill the tears starting to build in yours. You should have known he wouldn't give up until you told him how you feel. "I..." The tears were now on your face, Dean's hands were on your cheeks slowly trying to wipe your tears.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?'
"I'm not good enough for you." You finally spill what you held in. The six words you have been thinking about for months are finally out. Silence hangs in the air for a few seconds before Dean finally breaks the silence, his face confused. "Why would you say that?"
You stand up and walk away from Dean, towards the mirror looking into it. "I'm not strong, I'm not Pretty, I'm not Strong, I'm just not good enough for you Dean." You put your hands on your face, trying to hide your face, sobbing.
Dean gets up and wraps his arms from behind, slowly rocking you back and forth, "Shhh". He turns you around so you could cry on his shoulder. His hand rubbing your back felt good to let all of this emotion out. For months you have been putting on this strong face. Trying to prove yourself to Dean.
"You're wrong." Dean finally breaks the silence again, You pull your face away, tears leaving wet marks on Dean's Gray shirt.
"You're just saying that." you wipe your nose on your sleeve.
Dean turns you around, so you were now looking at yourself in the mirror, "I am not just saying that. I'll prove it to you. When you look into the mirror, what do you see?"
Before you could even begin your sentence Dean cuts you off, "I see a beautiful, Strong, Smart woman right there." You shake your head and Dean speaks again, "No. You're gonna listen to me. Everything that your head is telling you is wrong. My life before I met you had no meaning. I was running in, not caring if I got hurt. Then, I met you. The woman that excepts me, this job, and everything that comes with it."
You could feel Dean's breath beside your ear, "Let me show you how much I love you."
Before you had a chance to speak, Dean turned you around towards him, with his lips on yours. You could feel the passion, the love he had for you just in that kiss. His hands went under your shirt, lifting it over your head. His head started kissing down your face. Your cheek, neck, and your chest. His hands now unhooked your bra, leaving you bare on the chest.
"These are beautiful, everything about you is beautiful." His hands were now rubbing around your stomach, touching every blemish, scar, and even the small birthmark you had. "These are beautiful."
Dean then slowly brought you to the bed and laid you down on it. His mouth back on yours, his hands now all over your breasts. You let out a small moan while kissing him, and he breaks the kiss. His lips traveled from your lips down to your neck, till they landed on your nipple. You let out a moan, your hands traveling to his hair, pulling slightly.
You could feel his tongue around it, sucking a little. You feel your whole back arch into him. Allowing him to know how good you are feeling, Your moans feels the room as he uses his free hand to unbutton your jeans. Sliding them down your legs.
Your hand finds his shirt, tugging slightly. Dean lets go of your nipple with his mouth and speaks, “No… sweetheart. This is all about you.”
He kisses down your stomach, kissing all your scars and stretch marks. He stops when he was on the edge of your underwear. He takes the rest of your pants off, and then slips your underwear off and throws them on the floor.
“Let me take care of you, baby girl.”
Deans's hands spread your legs apart as he bent down in between them, you could feel his tongue lick up and down. Slowly working his way toward your clit. You let out a small moan as he works on your clit and continues to pleasure you with his tongue. Dean lifts his head up with a smirk on his face, "Does that feel good baby?"
You nod your head, "Yes.. so good. More."
After hearing those words, you could feel Dean's fingers rubbing you and you could feel his two fingers slide into you. Curling into you and letting his two fingers working in and out of you, slowly letting them drag over your g-spot.
You feel your back arch and let out a loud moan.
"Such a good girl... look at how responsive you are." Dean's fingers started going quicker in and out. You could feel your orgasm getting closer and closer. Dean just kept going faster and faster.
"Dean.. I'm gonna-" You let out another moan, "I'm gonna cum"
Dean leans up towards you, going faster in and out of you now. Using his free hand to hold you in place. "Cum for me baby."
When he said that you could feel your orgasm overtaking you. Letting out a long moan, Dean's fingers still moving slowly waiting for you to calm down before sliding them out of you.
"You did so good sweetheart," Dean says leaning up to kiss the top of your head, laying beside you. You felt like nothing ever happened. Even though a lot did.
"You mean so much to sweetheart." Dean started playing with your hair, "You are everything to me. Never forget that."
"Your my girl"
#deanwinchester#spn fandom#dean winchester x reader#sam and dean#dean winchester angst#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x you#Dean Winchester x reader#dean winchester x female!reader#supernatural#supernatural fic#spn#spn cast#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x female!reader#spnfamily#team free will 2.0#team free will#dean winchester drabble#dean winchester headcanon#dean x you#supernatural headcanon#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural drabble#supernatural smut
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Sweet kiss, sweet blood (2)
[ dark vampire! • Aemond x female ]
[ warnings: sexual tension, profanation, fluff ]
[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Slow burn, sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]
I owe the idea for this wonderful series to: @qyburnsghost
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous and next chapters: Masterlist
______
When he returned to Ser Criston's mansion he hurriedly drank the entire cup of pheasant blood that he had left to drink in the morning. He couldn't wait. The presence of this young girl unnerved him and aroused in him a thirst he had not known for a long time. When he drank the last drop, he breathed a sigh of relief, putting the cup on the table.
Criston looked at him surprised. He had never seen him like this before. For as long as he could remember Aemond had been one of the most composed people he'd ever known, including hunger. He hesitated to ask the question.
"What happened?" He asked uncertainly. Aemond wiped his mouth with his hand, looking away. He covered his face as if he wanted to shut himself off from the world for a moment and lock himself in his head.
The girl came in a nightgown and a shawl. She couldn't live far away. The thought terrified him and excited him at the same time. He wondered if he shouldn't go back to the city as soon as possible, before it was too late. Nevertheless, instead of saying he was leaving earlier, he said something else.
"Do your neighbors have a daughter?" He asked low and indifferent. Criston looked at him uncertainly, frowning. He didn't say anything for a moment.
"Did you kill her?" He asked suddenly, and Aemond shot him a look of disapproval.
"No." He grunted, looking away. He wondered if he should talk to him about what he felt. Even though they were friends there were some things that was better to kept to themselves. “She is the one who stays in your chapel every night.”
Criston sighed softly in relief, rubbing his temple. He paced a bit around the living room, shrugging his shoulders.
"Like I told you, it doesn't bother me. She may be the Whaterfields' youngest daughter. Her father was my broker when I bought this property. He boasted that she was getting married in a few months." He said, looking at him carefully.
“I've only just moved in here. I wouldn't want any problems, my friend." He said carefully. Aemond stared blankly ahead.
"I know."
After that conversation for several days he did not return to the subject and tried not to think about it. He managed to do this until at night, when he laid on the great, low windowsill and looked through the huge windows towards the chapel, waiting for her to come.
She always sneaked out at the same time, around midnight. First he could see the dim light of the candle, then her. She prayed every day for about an hour and a half, then left and returned home. He wondered what she was praying so fervently for.
One day she didn't go out for longer than usual and it made him nervous. He sat staring at the building, playing with his fingers involuntarily. For some reason he was obsessed with her.
He swallowed loudly, fighting hard against the temptation that was tormenting him. It didn't help that Criston had gone out on a little hunt to provide them with a supply of fresh animal blood. He thought he couldn't stand it.
He got up and gulped down the entire cup of blood that he had left for the morning. He needed to control himself better around her. He took his old, tattered Bible from his coat pocket and left the property, making a determined stride toward the chapel which was still dimly lit.
He walked in noiselessly, feeling himself trembling with excitement. He saw, surprised, that she had simply fallen asleep. Her face was resting on her hands on the armrest in front of her, a barely burning candle and her book beside her. She was bent over, her face pressed against her hand with her cheek, her lips slightly parted.
He felt a tightness in his throat and pants at the sight of her bare arm, the sleeve of her nightgown had slipped down. He wondered what to do. He thought that if he went over to her and woke her up, it would scare her. He decided to just sit in the back and watch her.
He was in no rush.
He watched her chest rise and fall, her mouth parting slightly and closing in a breath. Her whole body felt hot and soft, all throbbing with life. He thought that if he touched her, he would feel a pleasant tingle.
He wondered how she could fall asleep in such a place, especially knowing that she had once met a strange man there. He flinched as she rolled over suddenly, her eyelids fluttering open, looking sleepily around. For a moment she didn't know where she was. She noticed him, her pupils narrowed in horror.
"It's a dream, isn't it?" She asked, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. He smiled involuntarily at her question, though his expression was not cordial.
"Yes." He replied briefly, wondering what she would do with the information. She shifted in place, thinking for a moment, then frowned.
"You're mocking me, sir." She said it in a way that he thought he heard a note of regret in her voice. He raised his eyebrows in amusement at her statement.
"Perhaps it's all just in your head, miss." He purred, narrowing his gaze, looking at her like a cat looking at a mouse. He saw her swallow hard at his words, her hand trembling slightly against the back of the bench.
"Do you think I'm mad?" She asked, as if she herself wasn't sure if that might not be true. He looked at her intensely, her pleasant scent melting in his nostrils, filling his lungs. He felt like he was in a trance because her.
"We're all mad, Miss Whaterfield." He hummed low, the corner of his mouth curved into a smile. He played with her and watching her reaction was pure delight for him. He saw that she bristled when he said her surname.
"Who are you?" She asked finally, in a slightly firmer tone of voice, looking at him intently.
He thought that she felt more confident. Perhaps because they were sitting at a distance from each other, and it gave her a semblance of security.
"I didn't see you at Sunday mass, sir." She added after a moment.
The thought of her looking for him in the church tickled his ego pleasantly. He looked at her with a smirk for a moment, toying with his book in his hands. They looked at each other intensely. He didn't speak until she gave up, glancing to the side, pursed her lips.
"I came to visit my friend, who lives in the mansion that this chapel belongs to." He finally spoke low and indifferently, tapping his finger on the armrest where he was leaning with one side of his body.
Her eyes lit up at the news. She moved a little closer, placing her hands on the back of the bench, pressing her face against it so that only her eyes and the top of her head protruded above it.
"Are you a friend of Ser Criston Cole?" She asked, this time with curiosity and gentleness in her voice.
Clearly she needed to know who she could pair him with to gain any peace of mind in his company. Aemond nodded, and seeing how quickly she blinked he thought that she was smiling. He thought that he was taking surprisingly much pleasure from this conversation about nothing.
"How long are you staying here, sir? Do you like it here?” She asked, suddenly changing from a terrified, fear-frozen girl into a chatty, warm talker.
Somehow he was touched by the change. He thought deep down that she was too trusting. That if she knew who he was she wouldn't talk to him like that. He decided it didn't matter.
For now.
"Two questions, for two questions." He said low, an amused smirk never leaving his face.
He saw her twist in her place, surprised. He had often played with his meal, but never with such delight and excitement. He thought he'd like to possess her before he tasted her blood. Feel what it's like to be inside her, hot and wet. His manhood throbbed painfully in his pants at the thought.
"Very well." She said softly and he looked at her contentedly.
"I'll stay here a while longer. I came to rest. Why do you pray here and not at home?” He spoke flatly and matter-of-factly, never taking his eye off her.
He knew that it was hard for her to look at him, his gaze burning her. She looked away for a while, embarrassed. She looked up at him in surprise when he asked her a question. She was silent for a moment, as if she was debating whether to tell the truth or make up something. He would know right away if she lied.
“I used to come here with my grandfather when I was little. He told me that God lives here. Then I took it too literally. But ever since then whenever I need private time with our Heavenly Father, I come here.” She said softly, and he grunted in satisfaction, knowing she was telling the truth. He liked what she said.
“I like it here. Are you not afraid that I will hurt you?" He asked, turning his head.
He saw her whole body shudder, suddenly losing again what little trust he had gained from her in the last few minutes. She looked down, swallowing softly, her hand tightening on the back of the bench.
“If you wanted to, you probably would have done it already. Unless you like to play with your food." She said, looking at him with a frown.
He couldn't help but chuckle lowly at her words. He shook his head, looking out the window. The moon was shining down on them.
"Your candle is about to burn out. I don't envy your return in the dark." He said and saw that her gaze fell quickly to the candle beside her.
She opened her mouth, reaching for it, and that was it. Darkness surrounded them. Suddenly the only source of light was the white glow of the moon, falling through the window onto the floor.
She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with terror. He didn't move an inch, wondering what she would do. He felt her pulse quicken, her blood pumping faster through her body. He closed his eye at the feeling, enjoying her scent. He flinched when he heard her voice.
"Will you walk me away, sir?" She asked in a trembling voice, as if she was really afraid of going back in the dark. He wondered if she was in such a hurry to get to the grave. He opened his eye and looked at her.
"Yes."
He saw her slowly stand up, taking her prayer book in her hands. She started for the door pressing it against her chest, as if it was going to protect her from him in some way. He thought with amusement that it was for nothing.
No divine punishment could save her from him.
He left the chapel right behind her, the full moon shining high above, illuminating the park around them. Without the warm light of her candle, he thought, everything around her must have felt cold and menacing now.
She looked around, as if to make sure nothing was lurking in the shadows. He wondered how she could subconsciously not feel that the greatest danger was right in front of her.
She went ahead, and he followed her without a word. She led him along a narrow, well-worn path, through thickets of bushes and trees. This, he thought, was where she used to go to his friend's property every day.
Finally, they came out on land that no longer belonged to Criston, into a meadow, stretching far away. There couldn't be a better place to taste her, he thought. Here no one would hear her.
He pursed his lips, using what little free will he had to keep from just grabbing her by the shoulders and biting her beautiful, long neck.
They made their way to a road that led to a pretty, little country house. He heard her breathe a sigh of relief as she saw her home. She looked at him and was confused by the intense look in his eye. They stood in awkward silence for a moment.
"Thank you, sir, for you kindness." She whispered softly, her tone warm and full of, at least to him, undeserved gratitude.
He held out his hand to her, and even in the dim moonlight he could see that she blushed. He thought that he wanted this at least.
To feel the warmth and taste of her skin.
She offered him her trembling hand, and he squeezed it gently, respectfully, sensitively. It was warm and wonderfully soft.
He leaned in, his cold, wet lips pressed against her fragrant skin. He felt her shiver hard, her breath caught in her lungs. Just as he suspected, her body quivered wonderfully and throbbed with life, her scent filling his lungs, increasing his already unbearable thirst.
He felt that he wanted her in every possible way. He wanted to possess her and devour her. He flinched as her hand tightened around his.
"You're freezing. Forgive me for telling you to come with me when you were so cold, sir." She whispered embarrassed, looking at him as if she had hurt him.
The corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily at her words in amusement. He felt a mighty shudder as she took a step towards him, lifting their clasping hands and pressing her warm lips to his skin.
She held them like that for a moment, as if she wanted to warm his hand with the heat of her body and her breath. He watched this scene in amazement, his lips slightly parted, his manhood throbbing painfully in his pants. He thought there was no help for him. He won't be able to leave her alone.
He will hurt her just like other women before her.
She pulled away, releasing his hand, her cheeks flushed with emotion. He looked involuntarily at her neck, her throbbing artery, and swallowed hard. She was so close, all he had to do was reach out.
"Good night." She whispered and turned, wrapping her shawl tighter around her as she walked slowly towards her homestead. He stood and watched her, letting her go. He turned around after a while and headed back towards the moon, hanging above him in the sky.
______
Thank you for such a good reception of this series. I plan to make this story a slow burn fit for the Victorian era. I want to add some 19th century realism to this story. 🩸
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1
Others: @talesofoldandnew @toodlesxcuddles @padfooteyes
If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ♥
#aemond fanfiction#aemond fic#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond x oc#ewan mitchell#aemond x you#aemond x y/n#aemond x fem!reader#ewan mitchell fanfic#aemond the kinslayer#aemond x reader#aemond fluff#house of the dragon aemond#aemond smut#modern aemond x reader#modern aemond smut#modern aemond targaryen#modern aemond#modern!aemond#aemond one eye#prince aemond#dark aemond targaryen#dark aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x you#hotd x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#hotd x you#hotd angst
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Soft Dottore with his cold assistant 👀
── ୨୧：il dottore x reader
୨୧﹑synopsis :: observation in snezhnaya is always a pain, and it's not out of character for you to underestimate how thick a coat you'll need while outside during the winter
୨୧﹑genre :: fluff
୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, more soft dottore content, possibly ooc, I did not proofread a word of this but I noticed I wrote goat once instead of coat sorry if that happens again 😭
୨୧﹑words :: 1072
atp I don't think I can function without fluffy scenarios (send help) I wrote this while David Hobson was allowing Christmas to start with The Holy City (I don't even celebrate Christmas 💀) it's so late rn Merry Christmas Dottore nation ❤️
you hate these kinds of researching days, the dead middle of Snezhnayan winter when the Doctor decides there's an urgent sample he has to collect, something to study, today it's something he simply wants to observe - the functions of an automaton Sandrone had given him to play with. he certainly was fulfilling the 'fun' part of that equation, dragging you out at the break of dawn just to see how this machine works in snowy climates. in his own words, it is to go while the snow is still falling. the early morning hours would provide more time, he could be meticulous without the threat of time and the dastardly sun looming over his head threatening to melt all of his snow.
you expected to stay inside all day considering the cold, not even thinking to grab your good coat as you left home, and now you shiver under only the cover of a coat far too thin for the job. the sky is dark, no sun out to warm you even slightly. that's your only problem with the dark, finding it easy to navigate with Dottore only a few steps ahead of you brimming with confidence in where he's going. you should've known better than to think Dottore would be bothered by the cold. he isn't. he's pointing out things he can already picking up even when you weren't even at the spot he wants to test it.
you're not sure he can notice your shivering as you follow behind him. you wish you were with just about anyone else right about now, preferably one who wouldn't mind you standing close and cuddling up under their hopefully warm coat so that you could warm yourself right up with their body heat.
the Doctor would never allow such silly things, more importantly he'd scold you for your carelessness.
so you carry on until you reach the clearing, no less cold as when you first set out, though you have become somewhat numb to it. it doesn't help you at all. you sit down in a clear spot of snow while he sets his new toy down a small way away. he's fiddling away with that while you're fiddling with your coat, trying to find a way to cover all the cold spots where the air is making your skin prick with goosebumps. it's an impossible task.
your focus shifts at the sound of footsteps, the rustling of fabric coming from the same direction Dottore was in. you look up, thinking the Doctor must be coming to join you only to see him removing his coat. it takes you a moment to process the why and in that moment he's stopped right in front of you, coat bunched in his hands.
"Doctor--"
"You always forget to bring a proper coat." he places his coat over your shoulders, wrapping you quite snugly in it in fact, though you refrain from telling him that as you pull it taut around you in hopes of perhaps gleaning some extra warmth from it. it smells like him. it's like the warm hug you know you will never receive from him.
"Won't you be cold, Doctor?"
"You are on the verge of freezing to death. I'm surprised your teeth don't chatter." he says, a somewhat firm statement that shuts you up by pure accuracy as you didn't expect him to have noticed when you were tucked away just behind him the whole time. "For an assistant working toward the pursuit of knowledge, it makes me wonder how you don't ever learn."
there's a sense of embarrassment that settles in you as silence overwhelms the conversation, finding nothing that you could say in response that would disprove any of that-- inadvertently, you suppose that simply proves what he says. you don't learn. you bury your face in the fur lining of the collar. you recognise this coat as the one he wears to Harbinger meetings, as well as while he's out during the winters. it's quite a thick coat, you realise, perhaps explaining why he would take it out to what was only a field trip by comparison to your usual work.
you feel awkward as he takes a seat by your side, feeling cold in his place even when you're wrapped up in his coat and being practically insulated by it. his lack of covering is a lot more apparent now, sticking out like a sore thumb and it hits you that he likely knew the second he laid eyes on you in only a thin coat not made to withstand harsh winters that you were cold. it was obvious to you now.
as the minutes pass, you begin to realise you aren't staring at the automation like he instructed but at him, a wave of guilt overcoming you and you scoot closer to his side until you feel the warmth that radiates off of him as you part it to reach out for him.
"Doctor--"
"Are you still cold?" he remains unwavering in his focus on that machine, doing something you pay no mind to. whatever it is is mesmerising him, a state you've noticed happens most frequently when things work out, especially if they work out in a particularly interesting way. this looks like things are just working out though.
you shake your head, finding yourself easing back into the comfort his coat provides, "It's better," you add, "the wind isn't so bad."
you feel it again, the guilt that you felt taking his coat. it was the reason you had gotten closer at all. had he noticed that at all? you're hesitant to move again, wondering how-- if he would react if he was to catch you. knowing him he'd ignore it just to toy with you, even when he was watching you the whole time. he's distinctly mean in that way.
"Aren't you cold, Doctor?" you try to ask again, thinking he won't answer like last time. "We'll be out here for some time if it can keep that up." a brief glance to the automaton and you're not sure what exactly it's doing - likely the result of not looking at it for some time - but the way Dottore hums in agreement makes it sound as if he understands the sentiment. you make a good point it seems.
"We'll simply be forced to share it, since you didn't bring a coat of your own, silly little thing."
#✦ — scenarios.#✦ — fluff.#the sillies are so cute#dottore#il dottore#genshin dottore#dottore x reader#il dottore x reader#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader
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i debated saying anything about this bc i wanted the focus to be on how incredible josh is and how much we all love him, but since other people have made posts (and bc the subject of them has continued to be a problem) i figured i might as well.
long ass post below the cut bc i don't wanna clog people's feed
hannah has spent the better part of 6 months trying to salvage her reputation after tweetgate. she's been posting bogus, empty apologies and trying to prove that she's a good person, a person who has changed over the years and isn't close to being the same as the one who made those horrendous tweets.
yet every time someone calls her out, she continues to show everyone she hasn't changed at all.
hannah's career is not josh's. her personal life is not josh's. their connection is simply the fact that she's with sam. she's benefitted from the relationship since it started, regardless of how little her status as a "well known" musician has increased. she's gotten plenty of opportunities that she likely wouldn't have, had it not been for her relationship with sam. this isn't me saying she's using him, none of us could ever know that for certain, but it's certainly an interesting pairing and she definitely doesn't do herself any favors to get us to think otherwise.
i understand there is no obligation on hannah's part to join the masses in public support of josh coming out. I'm not going to say she needed to like the post, comment on it, put it in her story, etc. what i will say is that her initial silence about it on social media is extremely telling.
she tweeted about legislation when it came to gun control. granted she talked about how she wanted her music to make a change (it's not going to sweetheart), and made most of the conversation about her, but she brought up the importance of standing up for what you believe is right in the state you live in. and for anyone not aware (though i assume pretty much everyone knows) she lives in tennessee.
because of that, and given her adamance that she's not a bigot, one would think she'd take josh's post as a chance to also talk about the importance of fighting for LGBTQ+ rights in the state she lives in. even if she didn't live there, you'd think she'd do it to support her boyfriend's older brother. and for as much as she talks about how much she loves them all, it sure doesn't seem like she gives as shit about any of them other than sam, and yeah that's likely because he's the one directly helping her career.
she didn't though.
she didn't do anything to show her support for josh.
and it's not that she wasn't active on social media because she spent the day posting on everything about her new music. she follows josh, she would've seen the post. I'm sure there were plenty of conversations over text or call or facetime or whatever that she could've been part of. I'm fully aware that anything could've happened in private. but when you spend so much time trying to publicly convince people that you're a good, caring, thoughtful, loving, and accepting person, how could you not show public support when it comes to this?
of course she has to go and make it even worse though, because that's literally the only thing she knows how to do.
i don't necessarily agree with people commenting on her posts about josh (though i agree, yesterday was josh's day. idc argue with your mother) but the issue was her response to those comments.
you want to talk about your music? go ahead, lord knows you're never gonna shut up about your subpar shit. but this:
was fucking disgusting.
that's your boyfriend's fucking brother who, after spending nearly a decade hiding a massive part of himself and his relationship, decided to come out publicly where millions of people would see it all at once. where he could've been met with judgment from fans, non-fans, peers, fellow musicians, etc. I'm not saying he assumed the worst, there's no way any of us would know if he did, it's just the reality of the political climate. he did something that is fucking terrifying for anyone on a considerably smaller scale. even when you know you'll have support, coming out can be scary. hell i was drunk when i accidentally came out to my dad and even though i knew he'd still love me, i was fucking scared.
josh risked so much by making that post, regardless of the love and support he was guaranteed to have from his family, his friends, and presumably most of his fans. i can't imagine it was the easiest decision for him to make, but the fact that he did it is incredible and praiseworthy.
anyone with a brain and a lick of common sense knows this. anyone in the LGBTQ+ community is more than aware of this. anyone who cares about those around them and understands how awful the political climate is when it comes to the LGBTQ+ community, is fully aware of this.
hannah should be fully aware, and though it often seems otherwise, she has a brain, so i know she knows this.
it's the bare fucking minimum to publicly support josh. the bare. fucking. minimum.
but once again, she had to make sure she was getting the attention she so badly craves. and of course, her responses to gvf fans were just as gross and immature as they always are.
as i've said several times before, hannah wicklund is not a good person. she clearly never has been and never will be. she has this delusion that she's changed and grown and matured but every single time she makes a post, she proves that none of that is true.
she's single-handedly digging her own grave and i look forward to the day where she's no longer connected to the band and our community.
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Okay I need to get something off as a both Daniel and Yuki Fan
Before you come for me: Personally i root a little bit more for Daniel than for Yuki, non the less i wish BOTH! the best: points, podiums, wins, championships.
Before even the 2024 season started regarding silly season I came to the conclusion:
- I want to see Yuki Tsunoda in the second seat for Red Bull Racing besides Max Verstappen -
- I want Daniel Ricciardo to keep the seat at VCARB and Liam Lawson to become his teammate"
And here is why:
1. Daniel is a better asset for the Faenza Team than for Red Bull Racing in Milton Keynes
2. Red Bull Racing need to face the problem in case they loose Max Verstappen and their future in the sport
3. For years Yuki has been overlooked as canditate for the second seat at Red Bull Racing although he is outperforming his car since atleast the beginning of 2023
4. They loose the purpose of the Faenza Team if they choose drivers outside the Red Bull Family yet again
+
5. If that doesn't work out with Yuki and they need an expierenced driver because the competition found a way to beat Red Bull - they still can swap out Yuki for Daniel when needed
Welcome to my Ted Talk
1. Daniel is a better asset for the Faenza Team than for Red Bull Racing in Milton Keynes
When you listen to the interviews from Peter Bayer, Laurent Mekies and Franz Tost (last year), everyone always said & still say that Daniel is a great asset in term of developing and setting up the car
To quote Franz "He has an incredible feel for the car" and Peter "With his feel and developement advises he is also helping Yuki"
They were so happy last year that Daniel was there in Singapore to help setting up the car tho he himself couldn't drive, even claiming the he was an additional factor to why Liam got points in that race (i could talk hours about singapore23 trust me)
Red Bull Racing dont need someone for developing because of the current state of them dominating and being miles ahead their competiors and be able to create a car for Max smashing the whole grid
And wouldn't it be awesome to see VCARB podiums and wins like Pierre Gasly did with this Team in 2019 - 2021 ...
thinking about Daniels Renault time in 2020 and feeling that he was the asset that helped their performance jump between 2019 and 2020
2. Red Bull Racing need to face the problem in case they loose Max Verstappen
Red Bull Racing needs to look into how they will proceed to be on to top in the case when Max leaves the sport (or to another team which i doubt) (which could be quite soon on how often Max already talked about retirement)
For that you need young talented drivers to make the step up because they can still develope themselves into a better driver and they also prob stay longer than driver who already drove over 10 years
Alonso and Hamilton are exceptions in their field and as we know WDCs usually stay longer in the sport as just race winners or podium getter or point bringers. Formula 1 also has the problem that they are almost either affraid of bringing in rookies because they are more likely to make mistakes or love to hold onto their old (washed) drivers
Too many young drivers were really good coming through the ranks of F4 F3 and F2 but never got a chance in F1. The case of Oscar Piastri who smashed everthing in F2 in 2021 still had to wait and fight to get that McLaren seat or it was moreover Mark Webber, who had to fight. Most drivers dont have a well known Manager to get those deals.
So i totally understand why Marko said that Liam Lawson WILL HAVE A SEAT IN 2025.
But I feel like Liam still has to proof his worth for some years in the VCARB before stepping up to Red Bull Racing.
3. For years Yuki has been overlooked as canditate for the second seat at Red Bull Racing although he is outperforming his car since atleast the beginning of 2023
Red Bull Racing themselfs prob still have PTSD from 2019 and 2020 with Gasly and Albon. That years showed that the big team doesn't have the patience to develope a rookie like Lawson. They also had luck with Max in that term but also had to go through a lot of crashes and imperfections back then.
Yuki Fan expierence this bias against Yuki far to long. To me in my mind come how the media shitted on Yuki in Mexico for his mistake when he was trying to overtake Oscar. The media shitted in Yuki more than on Checo Perez who took himself out.
As recap: Yuki on that day started from the back bc he got a new gearbox which was 1 aditional change to max allowed gearbox changes of the season. He started from the back and made up places, he got into the points and with his mistake he fell out of the points. You also have to understand that he was stuck behind Piastri for multiple laps to try to find an opening to overtake and prob got frustrated
Besides of that happening Yuki showed a very good race craft and teamwork in qualifying that weekend.
But regarding the Red Bull Racing seat - they barely name him, though he had very very good 2023 season regarding the car he was given
In the beginning of 2023 it was often said in the Media that Nyck De Vries was a possible candidate for the RBR seat and that Nyck will be the teamleader of AT because of his expierence and age according to Helmut Marko
And Yuki smashed that Media say with beating Nyck last year ... kinda similar how he is beating Daniel right now and the fuss about Daniel taking the
Or how Yuki Fans say: All voices that rise against Yuki shall fall
In that and also considering the precious point I am really annoyed about the fact that Checo Perez only has to do the bare minimum to keep his seat and drivers in less good cars work their ass off to get nothing out of it. Ofcourse rn he looks like he is handeling the car this years RB20 better than the RB19 .. as we saw last year that can change midseason with the increase of competion and car developements
Again - the idea of Yuki (and Daniel) may be closer to Max in quali and race pace than Checo overall but we dont know because they dont sit in the same car
4. They loose the purpose of the Faenza Team if they choose drivers outside the Red Bull Family yet again
This point is regarding the rumor about that maybe Sainz or Alonso are targeted for the second seat at Red Bull Racing if Perez doesnt perform.
If they take someone outside the family 2 current drivers have to go. There are already 3 drivers for 2 seats since Helmut Marko already sees Liam Lawson in the VCARB (they could have signed the contract already).
I see that they maybe eye Sainz (als a Carlos Sainz Fan too) as a possibility since him also being an ex-Red Bull Junior ... but i think i remember Marko saying that the mood the Torro Rosso 2015 wasn't ideal bc the drivers, mechanic and especially the DADS competing directly (Franz Tost enjoyed it according to his interview end of last year and i too would watch Papa Sainz and Jos battle it out)
Marko too said last year he'd loved to have Norris, but Lando dedicated his life to McLaren. Charles dedicated his to Ferrari and I also see how Alex Albon future is within Williams since Red Bull never really apprechiated him when he was there in 2019 & 2020
There is no reason to look outside the family if you have enough good drivers to sign and resign within the family
+
5. If that doesn't work out with Yuki and they need an expierenced driver because the competition found a way to beat Red Bull - they still can swap out Yuki for Daniel when needed
This is a lead back to the first point.
It only makes sense to sign Daniel Ricciardo for the Red Bull Racing seat if Red Bull Racing needs him in that seat.
If Perez can't give Max and the Team the teamplay or the performance they need from him, Red Bull has to make changes. Currently Yuki - a young and good driver - looks like the better and more long term replacement option out of both VCARB drivers. If Yuki fails too, then i would give the seat to Daniel and hope for the best.
Because if there is 1 thing we all know is that Daniel can be a beast in the Red Bull Racing car. That car (according to himself at the red bull interview with is race engineer) has still the characteristic that he (and Max) loves about that car and the Red Bull Racing Team know what kind of car Daniel wants and needs to perform and the kind of car in that Daniel can show his beast (honey badger) in him.
------
The season only just started and we barely had 3 race ... McLaren achieve a total overturn midseason last year ... lets watch and see what happens
Love y'all
Have a nice day
#f1#yuki tsunoda#daniel ricciardo#yukiel#red bull racing#2024 silly season#max verstappen#welcome to my ted talk#f1 discussion#f1 unpopular opinion
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A Win-Win Situation PT 2- Rayleigh x F!Reader
Part One
Hello~ I've been chilling all day, and I wasn't sure what I was going to write on my days off, but I got a request for a continuation! So how could I saw no especially considering it's Rayleigh 😊
CW: modern au, black fem reader, age gap, suggestive, daddy kink, half-assed jealousy trope, brat taming, spanking, established relationship, MDNI
Things were certainly different now. Your car was always in perfect condition even though you rarely drove it. Your boyfriend was sweet and always considerate of you. Life was good, so you were a bit surprised to see the man react the way he did.
It took you over a week to realize that Rayleigh had been courting you. Sure, the way things turned out wasn't necessarily common, but maybe all those orgasms fogged up your mind since mechanics don't normally drive you home after leaving your car at the shop.
You were a bit confused when you arrived a few days later to a car that certainly had more work done than originally planned: tires rotated, new catalytic converter, washed and waxed, and an oil change. You were further confused when the price for the repair was certainly less than what you were quoted.
"Come on now sweetheart, you thought I wouldn't keep my word?" Rayleigh had winked.
You didn't know what to think, but the dots finally connected when the man showed up to your house with a fresh bouquet of flowers and asked to take you out on a date.
"Told ya, I'd fix that boyfriend problem."
And things just came so easily. You two got along great, and it was kind of nice learning about the older man and all his journeys. He always beamed at you when you talked about your day or your plans for when you were off next. Rayleigh always made sure to spoil you no matter what.
Even now, he was all smiles from a corner as he watched you play pool with Shanks, Scopper, and some of the other rascals he had known over time. It wasn't an upscale bar, but the neighborhood joint had seen their patronage for years. People came and went to enjoy a glass and have some fun.
Your shot is getting better, Rayleigh thought to himself. He hummed away in admiration until he saw a hot-shot your age approach you. The young man smiled and shook your hand before placing a peck on it. Rayleigh could tell you didn't think much of it since you went on talking with the man animatedly, and he showed you a couple of trick shots.
You decided to take a breather and joined Rayleigh at his table. "Having fun, sweetie?"
You nodded as you hugged onto the man's arm. "Yeah! I was just talking to this guy over there. It seems like we ended up going to the same school."
Rayleigh hummed. "Oh really? Did you know him?"
You shook your head. "Not really. We just-,"
"Here's a tequila sunrise from the gentleman at the bar." the drink was placed in front. You both looked up, and the man winked from afar and waved.
"Oh jeez," you chuckled nervously.
"Go ahead and enjoy it, princess. I don't mind."
"Really?"
"Mmhm."
The two of you sat and chatted away, but Rayleigh couldn't get over the slight glances in your direction--the ones you were totally oblivious to with your back turned. Rayleigh laughed at a joke you made and took a deep breath.
"Oi! We startin' another game! I'm feeling lucky," Shanks waved you over back to the pool tables.
You finished off your drink and looked up expectantly at your man. "Wanna come with?"
"In a minute," You went off across the bar, and Rayleigh couldn't help but watch the way your hips swayed with each step and the peek of skin just above your belt. Rayleigh polished off his beer.
"I'm shocked she'd be into an old geezer like you. You must be rich."
Rayleigh turned and looked up to see the cocky young man standing in front of him--peering down. "I don't like what you're implying, young man. You don't seem to have a problem spending some change on her." Never mind, that the drink had top shelf liquor. Rayleigh could get you that and more if you just said the word.
"Hey, there's nothing to be ashamed of. I hope I can be pulling baddies in my golden years, but I'll take her off your hands for now."
Rayleigh knew he had to keep his calm. He wasn't really concerned about you ditching him. You two had a good thing going. More so, with Shanks and the crews here, things could get messy quickly. Rayleigh didn't feel like being banned from this bar again.
"Just watch." So Rayleigh did uninterestedly as you played on with the boys and laughed and smiled. A competition of sorts started with you and Buggy against the young guy and his friend.
In between turns, you sipped another free drink and cracked jokes. Rayleigh was hot under his skin, but he felt his eye twitch when he saw the man "squeeze" by you and placed his hand on your hip for a brief moment. Rayleigh rolled his eyes. How corny.
So he stood up to join the group and caught you in a hug as you cheered. "We won, babe!"
The old man chuckled as some of his hair moved into his face and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Good job sweetie. I told you you'd get better."
You giggled before grabbing your things. Rayleigh watched as you realized something. You grabbed pen and scribbled on a napkin. "So cool to meet you again! Hopefully we'll run into each other soon." you handed it to the guy and kissed his cheek.
Rayleigh felt the last strike tick, and he caught Shank's glance while you said bye to everyone. Rayleigh knew he probably looked the same, but Shanks knew. He grinned with amusement and mouthed, 'Be nice to the girl.'
Rayleigh smiled as he helped you into your jacket. He smiled as he walked to his car and opened the door for you. He smiled as he drove and you both sat in comfortable silence.
You had no idea.
~~~
"Say it again."
"I'm sorry, daddy!"
"What are you sorry for, dear?"
"I'm sorry for being a slut!" you wailed as you the spankings finally ended.
"Mmm, I don't know what you mean. I'm a good girl." you pouted and chuckled.
Rayleigh smiled too sweetly as he flipped you onto your back and trapped you from above. Tears peeked out of your eyes, and you looked all soft and innocent. But the grin was telling a different story. "Tch, you should be nice sweetheart. You shouldn't go leading another man on just to anger daddy." he chided.
"Oh, you're lying now too?" Rayleigh shook his head as he kissed his teeth. "I've spoiled you too much. Seems I need to fuck the brat out of you. Give me my good girl back, slut." Rayleigh. grunted before bringing your lips together.
Rayleigh knew you weren't sorry now, but by the time he'd be done with you, you'd know not to try his patience again. But no matter, you had the fun of teasing the old man and the roughed up sex that came after.
Easy win-win
I was this close 🤌🏾 to making this a threesome with Shanks lol, but I couldn't get my brain to do it. So we'll hog ol' Rayleigh for ourselves.
@dannie-pooh28
#one piece#one piece fanfiction#silvers rayleigh#dark king rayleigh#one piece x reader#rayleigh x reader#modern au#mine#part two#one piece imagine#fem reader#black fem reader#one piece x fem reader#one piece x you#partyanimal167#animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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Place in me - Luke Hemmings
Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter
Call me in the morning, yeah
I'm sorry that I let you down, I
I'm so apathetic, it's pathetic
But I need you now, now
Charles approached the Japanese Grand Prix with confidence, but with a certain anxiety. Confident because he was just back from a race where he had won. Apprehensive because of the memories linked to this track. Memories that he preferred to repress far, far away in his memory. But it was as if fate had decided that it wasn't going to leave him in peace. Conditions on Sunday were far from ideal. The track was soaked and Charles shared his concerns with Fred, who admitted that he wasn't at ease either. But despite the FIA's reluctance and the rain, which showed no sign of stopping, the race went ahead.
Getting up at seven o'clock on a Sunday morning was not what Lyanna had in mind when she thought about her weekend. But she had promised Charles that she would watch all his races, from free practices to the finish line. In addition, he was starting from P3, a position he didn't particularly like, but nonetheless he was in front and that made Lyanna happy. She had no doubt that he would be able to hold his position. But the rain and the commentators on television didn't reassure her. She couldn't wait for the race to finish. Firstly because she knew that Charles didn't really like Suzuka and secondly because it meant that he was coming home, something that Lyanna felt had not happened for far too long. She couldn't wait to see him walk through the doors of the flat and she had promised herself that as soon as he arrived, she wouldn't let him out of her sight. Besides, he was coming home just in time for her birthday and she couldn't wait to spend it in bed with him. Nothing but Charles and the few phone calls she felt compelled to take.
The race finally started and Charles quickly overtook Checo to follow in Max's trail. The rain was pouring down and Lyanna couldn't imagine what Charles could see, or rather not see, and feel. If she closed her eyes, it would make her want to throw up. With her eyes glued to the screen, she could see Charles battling with Max for P1 and even before the impact, she knew. She knew that neither of them would win the duel. And it was Charles who made the mistake in trying to overtake Max. The Ferrari's rear wheels locked, forcing him to adjust his trajectory and collide with Max. Both spun and hit the barrier.
Lyanna gasped, events of last year replaying in her head. But it wasn't long before she saw Max and Charles get out of the car, unharmed. She exhaled. They were fine.
She was the first person Charles called when he got back to the hotel. He was exhausted and angry, and unfortunately for Lyanna she soon realised that it was going to be up to her to find the words to comfort the Monegasque driver.
“You don’t understand Lyanna! It’s my fault. 100%. And I can’t afford to make stupid mistakes like this! Not now that I have a real chance at the championship, I can’t fuck it up.”
“You’re too hard with yourself… The track was completely wet because of the rain it could have happened to anyone, to Lewis or even Max. You’re a human Charles, not a robot.”
“It was a rookie mistake, Lyanna. I know better than that.” He said harshly.
“I’m just glad you are okay…” she whispered.
“You know what we always say, right? You know what I always promise you. You know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Repeat it, then.”
“Be fast, come back to me, I love you.”
“And I’m always fast, I always come back to you and I’ll always love you. Enough about me. Tell me about you, I feel like it’s been so log since we actually got a proper talk.”
“That’s because every time we’re on FaceTime your mind is always elsewhere but never on me.”
“I’m sorry about that. It’s just… this start of the season is already a lot…”
“I know. That’s why I don’t want to add to your problems or your stress.”
“You know you’ll never. So, how’s the shoot.”
“I’ve known better if I’m being honest. Don’t get me wrong, I love the movie and I trust Michael’s vision and you should see Adam Driver on set, he is magistral, but anyway. It’s a lot of pressure, a lot of work and it’s a range of emotions to portray that I’ve never done before. It’s exhausting. Fulfilling because I feel like I learn so much about myself, but hard and stressful. I can’t wait for you to get home… I... I just need you and your arms and your kisses… You. Only you.”
“And I’ll be all yours as soon as I stepped out of that plane, I promise you. Do you want to do something in particular for your birthday?”
“I want to do you. That’s it.” She jokingly said.
Charles was far from against the idea and if he was honest, it was something he was looking forward to. But he also knew how much his girlfriend loved her family and the place they occupied in her life. He wanted her to have a birthday to remember. And he wanted to be the person to give her that. His ego would feel flattered. After hanging up with Lyanna, he searched his contacts for Renée's phone number, which she had given him in case of emergency.
“Charles? You are the last person I expected a call from.” Lyanna’s mom greeted him after she picked up.
“Renée, hello. I hope you’re alright and I’m not bothering.”
“No, you don’t. Is everything okay with Lyanna? I’m assuming she is the reason why you call.”
“Yes, kind of… I wanted to ask you something.”
“If you are asking me for the permission to marry her, it’s a no. You still have to prove that you deserve her, young man.”
Charles was taken aback by the way she said it.
“Hum... well. I was not calling for that but it’s good to know… I guess? Hypothetically, if I wanted to ask you for permission, what should I do?”
“Don’t ignore her for starter. She told me what happened after your win in Bahrain. It didn’t make me happy to hear that, Charles. You promised me you would take care of her; I’m not asking you to be perfect, everyone is human and bound to make mistakes but… don’t play with her and her feelings. She went through enough.”
“I’ve already apologised to her, I kind of groveled if it can help. But anyway, it was not the reason of my call. I want to organize her a surprise birthday party and I was thinking of making you all fly out to Monaco to see her. It would make her so happy. And… I was also thinking that you all could meet my family since I wanted to invite them as well. Lyanna is close to them and I know my mom would be delighted to help to organize. She loves Lyanna.”
“Well… it’s very nice of you…”
“You don’t have to do anything. I can arrange a private jet and the hotel. You would just have to show up to the airport. Say yes, please. For Lya.”
Charles couldn't help jumping in joy and punching his fist in the air when Renée told him that she agreed and that she would take care of planning with the rest of the family. As soon as he had finished with his mother-in-law, he hurried off to phone his mother and explain his plans. Pascale was delighted and assured him that everything would be fine and that she would take care of everything. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut and not reveal anything to the actress. So it was with great excitement that Charles set off the next day for Italy to meet up with his beloved.
Lyanna wasn't there when Charles arrived from the airport. He hadn't said exactly when he was coming back, wanting to surprise the young woman. On the way, he stopped at a florist and bought her a huge bouquet of red roses. He knew it wasn't original, but he didn't care. He took the time to put his things away and take a long hot shower before changing into comfortable clothes. He plugged his phone into the stereo in the living room before choosing an acoustic playlist to play in the background. When that was done, he settled into the sofa and closed his eyes, savouring the fact that he was home. Soon he heard a key turn in the lock and he sat up, ready to welcome Lyanna and shower her with kisses.
He had expected her magnificent smile to light up as soon as she saw him, but what he saw destabilised him. She was crying. And not just a little. Her glossy eyes found Charles and she burst into even more tears, if that were possible, before rushing into his arms and soaking his shirt.
“Love… Lya… Oh my god babe. Hey, talk to me.”
“I want to give up. I can’t go back there. I want to give up Charles” she was like a broken record repeating the same sentences again and again.
“Babe, come here. Sit down. Tell me what happened.”
She pressed herself against Charles and wrapped her arms around his torso before burying her neck in his shoulder.
“I fucked up. We were supposed to shoot a scene and… and it was a hard one. It was about abuse. And…I freaked out. Something in me froze. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I got flashbacks from…” she shook her had as if she was trying to erase the memory. “And then everyone was staring at me, Michael wanted me to redo the whole scene from the top but I couldn’t Charles. I couldn’t. I ran away. I said that I couldn’t do it anymore and I left. They are going to be so mad. So mad. But I couldn’t stay there, I felt like I was drowning and I couldn’t breathe. It scared me.” She was rambling and Charles hugged her even tighter, kissing her forehead.
“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here, Lya, I’m here…”
“I’m so thankful you’re here. I thought you were coming back later and I would be alone and I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
He let her cry against him until she finally fell asleep, exhausted. He carried her to their bedroom and laid her on their bed. She tossed and turned, seeking the warmth of Charles' body. He joined her shortly afterwards and, naturally, she found herself back in his arms.
When Charles woke up a little later, it was still dark. The jet lag was beginning to wear on him, even though he was usually rather proud of the way he handled it. Lyanna hadn't moved an inch; she was still snuggled comfortably in his arms, her legs intertwined with his. Instinctively, he pulled her even closer to him and placed his lips on the top of her head. He didn't want to move, he felt good, peaceful. But a pang of worry pierced his heart. He couldn't help wondering how the young woman would be when she woke up.
With a gesture, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and looked at the time. Barely five in the morning. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep and that he risked waking Lyanna at any moment, who needed sleep so badly. He got up carefully and put on his workout clothes. His building had a gym, which was handy for him. He grabbed his airpods and left the room, then the flat, without a sound.
He returned an hour later, but not before stopping off at a café to pick up a takeaway breakfast for Lyanna and himself. He could hear the water running in the bathroom, which told him that Lyanna was awake, which was reassuring. He set the table, taking care to display the bouquet he'd bought the day before, which he hadn't had the chance to offer properly. Soon, the young woman's silhouette appeared in the doorway and it was a weary smile that Charles received when she saw him.
“How do you feel?” he asked her as he took her in his arms and gave her a light peck on the lips.
“Like shit. I’m supposed to be on the set in two hours… I don’t want to go…” she smiled gently at him as she saw the flowers on the table and inhaled the scent.
“Is there something I can do to help?”
“Actually… do you want to come with me today?”
Charles was used to cameras, but he had to admit that a film set was a very different environment from what he knew on a day-to-day basis. Lyanna didn't have to worry about a thing; as soon as she arrived, the director rushed over to her and asked if she was alright. Lyanna briefly explained how she had felt, without going into detail, and apologised profusely, which Michael Mann brushed aside with a wave of his hand.
Charles had spent many hours sitting in a corner in silence, admiring Lyanna as she worked. Seeing her in her element, confident and in control of every detail, giving her opinion, chatting and laughing with the other cast members, made him fall a little more in love with her. As soon as she could, she checked on Charles and made sure to introduce him to everyone, so that by lunchtime everyone knew Charles' name and knew that he was Lyanna's boyfriend.
Lyanna was free by mid-afternoon and wasn't needed on set until the end of the week, which was perfect for Charles as it would allow them to get back to Monaco where Lyanna's birthday was being held. Pascale had booked the same room where Charles had celebrated his birthday a few months earlier, and the orchestra and caterer had also been rebooked. Lyanna's family and friends were due to arrive the day before and Joris, Arthur and Lorenzo had been asked to drive everyone to the hotel. This way, Charles could take full advantage of his girlfriend without her suspecting anything.
On the morning of his birthday, Lyanna was the first to wake up and it was she who woke Charles up by placing light kisses on his stubble, his neck and then down his chest.
“Hey, you.” whispered Charles in a sleepy voice.
“Good morning, babe.” Lyanna replied with a twinkle in her eye.
“You’re in a good mood this morning.”
“Indeed. Do you know why?”
“I have an idea but please enlighten me.”
“It’s my birthday and you’re home and that means I have you to myself and let me tell you that I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
“Oh yeah? And what did you plan?”
“Oh so, so many things that don’t require for us to leave this bed.”
And true to her word, they stayed in bed all day. Lyanna ignored the messages and calls she received on her birthday, her family playing along with the idea that they were far away, when in reality they were only a few streets away from Charles's flat.
At the end of the day, and not without some difficulty, Charles managed to persuade Lyanna to get out of bed and go celebrate her birthday somewhere quiet and out of sight, just the two of them. He hated having to lie to her, but he hoped her reaction would be worth it. Lyanna pouted, unenthusiastic about the idea of going out.
“Lya, I made reservations and I really can’t cancel…”
“But I didn’t want to go out… I just want to be with you.”
“You got me all to yourself the whole day. You barely let me out of the bed to eat.”
“I didn’t hear you complain though…”
“Oh believe me, I’m not. It’s just that I want to spoil my girlfriend for her birthday and I want to please her because she deserves it. So let’s go out.”
“I must say that you did a really good job pleasing me the whole day and you can keep doing it without us having to leave the flat. It’s very convenient, it doesn’t require you to move and it’s completely free. No need to spend a penny on me. See, I’m really low maintenance.”
“I’m going to drag you out of here if I need to.”
“Can’t you just tell them that we will be going tomorrow?”
“We both need some fresh air. It will do us good.”
She continued to complain, but realising that Charles would not give in, she headed for the bathroom.
“I’m letting the door open, if you want to join me.”
“Lya, we can’t afford to be late and we both know that if I’m stepping even just a toe in this bathroom we will be very, very late.”
“You’re loss Leclerc, then.”
Charles shook his head and slipped out of the room, not wanting to be tempted more than necessary. He checked his messages nervously, his mother keeping him regularly informed of the evening's progress. He decided to call her to find out exactly how it was all shaping up rather than read the dozens of messages he had received throughout the day.
“Hey mom. How is going?”
“You would know if you were answering my texts! You really choose the right day to go full radio silence. Everyone is here, Charles. Where are you, guys?”
“On our way, don’t worry. We will be there in no time.”
“You haven’t left your place, did you?” it was not really a question, just a fact and Charles could almost picture his mom rolling her eyes.
“We’ve been a little bit carried away but don’t worry the situation is under control…”
“You had one job Charles, just to arrive on time.”
“Well, it was harder than expected…”
“What is hard? Because I sure can help with that.” Lyanna was just behind him completely oblivious to the fact that he was on the phone with his mom.
“There are some things that a mom doesn’t need to know. I’m going to leave you but please for the love of god, be quick.”
“I’ll try. I promise.” He hung up the phone and eyes his girlfriend. “My mom heard you and I think next time you’ll see her she is going to look at you in a very different way.”
“I’m sorry… but admit it, it’s funny. Just a little bit.”
“Having my mom knowing about our sex life is something funny to you?”
“Come on Charles, she is not stupid, she knows that you are not a sweet and pure and innocent little angel.”
“Of course! It doesn’t mean that she has to hear things!”
“She will be fine! What did she want, by the way?”
“Just to invite us for lunch tomorrow. Up for it?”
Charles was amazed at how easily lies slipped out of him.
Eventually they arrived outside the hotel where the birthday party was being held. Lyanna winced, quickly realising that Charles was not taking her to the quiet, intimate, relaxed place he had led her to believe.
“What did you do, Leclerc?”
“Spoiling my girlfriend. Come on, let’s get in.”
He got out of the car, handing his keys to the attendant as another employee opened Lyanna's door. Charles hurried to her side and offered her his hand, which she accepted.
She glanced suspiciously at Charles, who winked at her and smiled broadly. As soon as they entered the hotel lobby, they were directed to the private room, which Lyanna recognised. And that's when she saw them. All her family, her close friends and Sophia were there too. She was surprised to see Charles's family there too, along with Pierre and Kika, who had also travelled for the occasion. She even recognised Fred. She questioned Charles, who replied that his team principal had taken a liking to her, especially as he thought she was the reason why Charles was performing so well in this early part of the season. Emotion suddenly took hold of her and she felt tears welling up. Her mother was the first to come forward and give her a hug, soon to be joined by her best friend Emilie.
Charles gave them some space and went to talk to the other guests. The evening passed quickly and Charles could only feel his heart swell with joy at the happiness emanating from his girlfriend. She went from guest to guest, laughing, chatting and dancing. Just as he had found a quiet spot, Emilie came to join him.
“Charles Leclerc, finally I’m meeting you.”
“Emilie, right? Lya told me a lot about you.”
“It goes both ways. You are all she talks about when I have her on the phone… I feel like I know you without actually knowing you. Which is weird.”
She sipped her glass of champagne and sighed.
“I’m going to be honest if you don’t mind. Lya is my best friend, I might even dare to say she is the sister I’ve never had which is why I often feel the need to protect her. So don’t take it personally, but I made research on you.”
Charles almost choked on his drink.
“I found things that made me questioned your true motives with her. You don’t have the nicest dating history to be fair. I’ve got scared for her. Athletes don’t have the best reputation in terms of being faithful… But you make her happy, everyone can see that, even I. And I can see that you love her as well, not everyone would go out of their way to do something like that to someone if there were no real and deep feelings involved. I still don’t like you. But for now I’m going to tolerate you. But I’m watching you. One dick move and I will hunt you down.”
“Copy. Right and clear. But don’t worry, I intend to keep her for a very, very long time.”
As the evening wore on, he found Lyanna eating a piece of cake. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone with excitement.
“I’m glad you made me leave the bed in the end…”
“See, I have good ideas sometimes.”
“Thank you, Charles. For everything.” She said seriously.
Charles put an arm around her shoulders and placed a kiss on her temple. She nestled a little closer to him and they enjoyed a brief moment of peace before returning to the guests. Lyanna stopped suddenly and tugged at Charles's sleeve before pointing to a corner of the room.
“Charles, do you see what I’m seeing?”
“Hum, well… your mom talking to Fred? Why? What’s wrong?”
“My mom is not talking! She is giggling Charles! Giggling! With Fred! They are so flirting.”
“Fred is single, your mom is too. If they can have some fun, good for them.”
“It’s my mom and technically your boss we are talking about!”
Charles paused.
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s weird. Imagine they actually get together, the kind of family reunions we could have! Do you think that would mean your mom would come at the Grand Prix?”
“I don’t want to imagine!”
“It would sure be fun and interesting! You could have Fred as a stepfather!”
“Shut up!”
Charles laughed and wrapped his arms around her as Lyanna groaned in protest.
Soon it was time for everyone to say goodbye. Lyanna thanked them for the surprise and soon left with Charles.
“Well, I’d say that your family and my family got on really well. That’s amazing. No awkward family reunions in sight.”
“Yeah… I can’t believe you did that for me. I mean, I can believe it because you prove me everyday how much you love me but… for you to actually take the time to organise that… it blows my mind.”
“Shout out to my mom who actually did most of the job. I really just had to get you there in time and I failed. But really, it was nothing. I know how much stressed you’ve been under lately and how much your family means to you; it was normal for me to do that. It was not much.”
“I love you so much, Charles. I couldn’t ask for a better birthday present.”
She placed a kiss on his cheek as Charles kept his eyes on the road before sliding a hand onto her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.
=======
author's note: I love this chapter so much despite how long it is lmao 😂
As usual, let me know your thoughts through the comments or ask box if your too shy. And don't forget to leave a like or reblog the story. It helps. And it lets me know that you like the story.
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