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#humanity has been gazing at the same stars for eons

amee-racle-ofmyown · 4 months

Note

Csptaineer art request 5. admiring them from afar

dear anon, I know you asked for art but I had intended these as writing prompts! however!! I may doodle something for this later anyway, because it's cute :3

and still, never do we tire of watching stars glow

head engineer mark x reader (the captain) | words: 877

For as long as you'd known him, he'd always had a certain look of awe about him when it came to space:

When you were kids, huddled up in blankets watching a documentary about The Solar System while you shared a bowl of cookies.

And as teens, laying side by side in the dry summer grass, gazing up at the stars dotting the sky, laughing and pointing out constellations and making up stories about what it would be like when you got to be among them.

And as cadets, the first time you voyaged beyond Earth's atmosphere.

Now the Captain of a ship he'd built from the ground up, it took you by surprise when you looked up from your data tablet one day to see him gazing at you with that same look of wistfulness and wonder.

His expression lasted for the briefest moment before he registered that you'd seen him, eyes widening and cheeks flushing almost imperceptibly from this distance. He immediately averted his gaze to anywhere but yours, busying himself with whatever he could.

You let out an amused huff, an incredulous yet flattered smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

It was far from the first time you'd caught someone giving you a starstruck or near-mesmerised look, especially within your own crew. But for him to be the one staring like that? The same admiration and fascination that you'd seen in his eyes when he beheld an eclipse, or a meteor shower, or your new home planet, directed at you…?

You couldn't deny the small flutter in your stomach, or your heartbeat slightly quickening its pace.

You brushed off the thought and continued working, but from then on you couldn't help but keep noticing the awe and longing when he looked at you, whether it be from across a room or in conversation. It made you wonder if this was a recent phenomenon, or if you had simply been blind to it for a long time.

It was one of those moments of catching his warm, starlit gaze in which you were caught off-guard once again.

You met his eyes with the same intensity once you realised he was watching you, raising your eyebrows slightly to get his attention. He looked embarrassed and a little taken aback, as he always did in such scenarios, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he decided whether or not to abandon ship. Instead, his mouth curved into a smile that crinkled his eyes with fondness, followed by a quick wink.

Now it was your turn to look surprised.

It's not that the gesture was out of character or that he couldn't be bold when he wanted to. You just hadn't expected it now.

Later, you found it in you to be direct.

‘What's with all the staring lately, Mark?’

His eyes widened at the question. It wasn't particularly like you to be so upfront about something like this.

You watched as your head engineer’s expression turned apologetic and a little guilty, like he'd been caught red-handed.

‘Uhh- I'm sorry. Am I in trouble, Captain?’

You giggled quietly. ‘Nah. I never said I minded, just wondering…’

He visibly relaxed at your response.

‘Oh, well in that case. To be honest, Cap, it's sorta hard to look away sometimes.’

You felt your face flush at this, but were given no pause to utter a reply even if you’d had the words; he continued quickly, as if just realising what he'd said aloud and in the same moment deciding to fully commit to speaking his mind, before he could let himself back out.

‘I just- I love seeing you doing your job, you look so happy and assured. And proud — of everyone you work with, proud that you're part of the team. You're always so willing to help out and listen to what everyone needs. And watching you take command of a situation- You just– you have this aura that screams that you belong here, this is what you were meant to do, and you have a positive effect on everybody around you. We're so lucky and grateful to have you as our Captain.’

And here you are, stunned into silence for a moment.

He stands there, trying to gauge your reaction, a little flustered himself but steadfast in his confession.

You feel a little giddy, but take a breath to soothe your racing heart, finally composing yourself again as the smile you can no longer hold back paints your face.

‘Thank you, Mark. That's… that's really sweet.’

He grins. ‘Just being honest.’

‘And I feel exactly the same about you, by the way.’

He tilts his head in confusion.

‘Watching you in action, it's the same.’

You can see it in his eyes when it clicks.

‘Wait, Captain, are you saying you-’

‘Almost as much as you,’ you chuckle. ‘Except I don't get caught. You could definitely use some improvement in that area.’

He looks away, smile becoming sheepish, the tint on his cheeks you are sure matches yours from only moments ago.

‘But… like I said,’ you speak up again, drawing his attention back to you. ‘I don't really mind. It is kinda cute seeing your reaction when I catch you.’

#I'm sorry this took a lot longer than I was planning #at first I was just struggling then when I got into it stuff was happening irl and I was too busy😩#but anyway I hope you enjoy!#hope this doesn't read as too ooc or anything😬 I just want super sweet fluff rn #maybe I am just overthinking but lmk what you think y'all think #as always reading your comments makes my entire day or week even #ALSO CHILDHOOD FRIENDS CAPTAINEER WOOO #I AM SUCH A SUCKER FOR THE TROPE #AND I THINK ABOUT MARK AND THE CAPTAIN AS KIDS ALL THE TIME LIKE WAY TOO MUCH #also about the title bc I was feeling a little poetic :0 just think.#humanity has been gazing at the same stars for eons #and yet we still do it #we don't ever get bored #maybe some like to more than others but #I think it's fair to say that it's a pretty universally shared and agreed upon idea that stars are beautiful #and looking at them is nice #and we probably won't stop any time soon #I think that's a nice sentiment :) and it literally just came to me as I was trying to think of a title #amee writes #blooming romance prompts #asks #anonymous #iswm #in space with markiplier #captaineer #engineer mark x captain #engineer mark x reader #head engineer mark x reader #head engineer mark #engineer!mark

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tmarshconnors · 2 days

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Night Thoughts

When I was a lad growing up I always used to find it very relaxing looking up at the sky. Whether it was on a summer afternoon or in the early morning hours it didn’t matter. I always found great solace in it all. Now as I lay here in the garden dictating this blog onto my iPhone the time is 3.13am it has been a calm night. You hear the sounds of a few cars that go by and a rustling of the leaves from the trees but apart from all the expected noises, it’s been a very calm night.

Each experience feels uniquely personal, a journey into the vastness of the universe and the depths of one's own thoughts. You can really lose yourself. If you let it. It's a symphony of serenity, inviting you to pause, to breathe, and to simply be.

As you recline on the soft bed of grass, the cool earth cradles you, grounding you in the present moment. The worries of the day melt away, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe as you gaze upward.

Above, the canvas of the sky unfolds, dotted with countless stars shimmering like diamonds strewn across black velvet. Each pinprick of light tells a story, a tale of cosmic beauty and mystery that stretches across eons.

The constellations, those celestial patterns etched into the heavens by ancient civilisations, seem to come alive as you connect the dots, tracing the outlines of mythical beasts and legendary heroes. It's a reminder of humanity's enduring fascination with the stars, our quest to understand the universe and our place within it. I encourage you to download the app called Sky Guide it’s a great app for this kinda of hobby if you’re interested.

But stargazing isn't just about observing the distant reaches of space; it's also an introspective journey, a chance to reflect on the interconnectedness of all things. In the quiet of the night, thoughts drift like clouds across the sky, weaving intricate patterns of introspection and contemplation.

As you lay there, bathed in the gentle glow of moonlight, you can't help but feel a sense of humility and insignificance in the face of the cosmos. Yet, paradoxically, there's also a profound sense of belonging, of being an integral part of something much greater than yourself.

In those solitary moments, you find solace in the knowledge that you are not alone—that countless generations before you have looked up at the same stars, pondering the same mysteries of existence. It's a humbling reminder of our shared humanity and the fleeting beauty of life itself.

Just my thoughts while lying down tonight.

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egotisticle · 2 years

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@hcsuffered: ❝ i don’t really sleep much anymore. but it’s okay, someone has to keep the moon company. ❞ ( feat. a ‘ please ’ kiss’ )

♚ -------------------- MAGNOLIA CASTILLO prompt + A FUCKED UP KISSING MEME

SEATED SIDE BY SIDE on the edge of an abandoned building, the nighttime traffic beneath them looked just as breathtaking as the stars in the sky but the moon was worthier of its enthusiast’s solicitude. the poetic sentiment didn’t go unappreciated by the entity, obsidian eyes forfeiting their view of the horizon in order to openly regard the young man at his side. an intimate connection to the void and transcendental marvels was integral to the being’s existence and with such privileges came the glorious burden of primacy. deities and mortals weren’t fated to co-exist in the same space, one perceiving the other without consequence to their welfare. pedestals were built for a reason and numinous beauty was best left admired during brief encounters. kafkaesque imagery and sleep paralysis plagued the humans that dared to endure the entity’s company, steadily surrendering to the darkness that would eventually UNSPOOL the mind and fool all five senses with phantasmagorical phenomenon. mark heathcliff was an anomaly and was acquainted with unspeakable curiosities long before he’d been granted immunity against mortality; mark was a victim to an extramundane tragedy, not unlike someone else that the entity knew long ago. the resemblance was uncanny, even down to their first names.

NO ONE CAN REPLACE THE ORIGINAL BUT SOME CAN COME CLOSE !

( ------------------ so very close. )

❝ i should hope that it values your sacrifice and in turn, offers you the same remedy to loneliness. ❞ several iterations of the being’s voice delivered their sentiment with varying timbres, complementary with the sounds of the nightscape and reminiscent of a quixotic daydream. no longer could the evening sky win back his attention, scrutinous gaze already occupied with how mark looked when bathed in moonlight and how the limited light filled in the blanks to mirror someone that was dead and gone ----- it was a cruel trick. hours of conversation had ignited an ember of wistfulness for a lost companion, a yearning ache for a time that could never be revisited and an emptiness that couldn’t be refilled. that particular part of the entity’s past was a phantom limb and for the first time in a long while, some manner of sensation could be felt. in spite of his urbane character and upheld composure, the entity caved into greed’s will and no longer could the urge be kept at bay. decisions could not be undone but a second chance to relive the past couldn’t go to waste, especially when a suitable avatar was in arm’s reach. ❝ -------- but if not, perhaps you can find it elsewhere. ❞

fingers collected at mark’s chin and coaxed the young man to face him, a gentle maneuver to meet him halfway in the same manner that one would handle a priceless artifact. neither rancor nor animosity defined him. the being’s touch only spoke of endearment and an unshakeable affection that hadn’t be unearthed in eons. he remembered himself when they were no more than a breath away, lidded eyes alight with a silent plea to allow him to revisit a memory and revive the dead. mark’s ire could be endured and exoneration could be chased later if the aftermath deemed it necessary; to him, however, it was worth the indulgence. in that exquisite moment, all the entity could see was HIM ( YOU’VE BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS AGAIN, HAVEN’T YOU ? ) and the deep-seated ardour previously reserved for the original was poured into the kiss. all at once did the visual of the outside world collapse in on itself in a flurry of radiant colour and surrendered to darkness in a bid to preserve the moment for as long as possible ---- a tribute to a severed connection that was arguably broken too early.

YOU AREN’T HIM BUT YOU CAN BE !

( for now )

#hcsuffered #┊♚┊ − ❛ ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ❜#┊♚┊ V; i. MAIN #((i'i know they aren't even at this point but like THE POTENTIAL' -- you say that as if we haven't already mapped out their dynamic))#((i really didn't have to change much to include the kiss meme fyi lmao))

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biohazard-inevitable · 1 month

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Moon

Enraptured by the moon.

Taken by the moon.

Hypnotized and bathed in its endless light.

To anyone else, a rock in the sky.

But to our willfull stare

Comes the thundering of aincents.

Its so common, so everyday for mortals.

It’s always been there, since the dawn of the earth.

We can feel it, taking our soul by storm.

We gaze up at its glowing beauty and are frozen,

Unable to move as the air itself feels colder.

Like the hypnosis spell of a witch,

It speaks through us.

Tells us stories and breathes the life of eons into our lungs.

Our bones know its song.

We can feel it aching through us like an energetic thrum.

We know this moon.

Its the same as it was eons ago.

The same rock, the same soil the same glow.

The glow that bathed the aincents.

We wonder, then,

Did they feel the same?

Did the celestial being that accompanies our fragile humanity throughout our haunted nights give the dawn of humanity the same feeling of awe and whimsy as it does to me now, in this moment?

Is anyone else currently looking at the moon?

Does anyone else feel its symphony?

Silent and museless aside from the soft cricket-song of night.

But I hear it.

I hear the orchestra of the stars and I feel the chill of its touch.

I see the art in its light and the comfort in its reality.

Its as familiar as the call of death to my bones.

One of the constants of life alongside demise, tide and time.

Looking at it, I meet the eyes of thousands, staring back at me.

Everyone who has ever lived andd died and breathed the air of this earth has gazed up at the rock in the sky.

I wonder if they felt my eyes staring back at them, as I do now?

I wonder who will feel the eyes of the past next?

I wonder who will see the moon for the first time next?

And who will be mesmerized by its glow?

#poetry #personal #lifeblogging #kin posting #stared at the full moon again like a weirdo #anyways #y’all ever think super hard at the fact this is the most visible piece of history #like- shit man #its always been the same rock #how many things have seen that rock and went #’shit man. fuckin baller rock dude.’

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jcwriting · 3 years

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Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep. Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense. It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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lucyskywalker · 2 years

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"You are like the stars in the night sky, camrade." For a single moment, Lumine stopped, as she couldnt believe in what she heard. "You never cease to surprise me."

Childe turned his back, starting to walk away. This took Lumine out of her heard. He just gave her so many informations, some that Lumine knew he shouldn't, like Scaramouche and the gnosis, and then slapping her with...

"You are like the stars..."

"C.... Childe! Wait!" One step, and then...

"Hmmm. What is the problem, camrade?" Lumine has always been a perceptive person. Even being overwhelmed with everything, she noticed the pink blush in his cheeks. It seems he didnt inted to say that out loud. She doesn't know how that makes her feel. Sudenly, a cheshire smirk drawned the Harbinger's lips as he crossed his arms. "Missing me already?"

He is so frustrating...

"The illusions." Lumine went straigh to the point. Immediatly, Tartaglia lost his smirk, and turned into stone. Like a statue. Even the light in his eyes dissapeared, the blue turning to a cold gaze that made her skin shivers and make her willing to invoke her sword.

"What about it?"

Taking a deep breath with his freezing tone, Lumine said what was hitting her head since he showned up.

".... It is shorting your life." She finally said. Her voice breaking. Teppei. Will Childe have the same destiny? Her heart would break again. Lumine have lived during what can be considered eons. While travelling the cosmos, you can loose the count of your age, time is a human/mortal concept after all, always changing from place to place, and is barely important when you can live thousands of years. "You are going to die if you continue to use it."

You would think someone as old as Lumine, wouldn't be strange to Death. It wouldn't bother her. The most part of the time, it didn't. Was a part of life. She saw many people die. Die because of advenced age. Die because of an ilness. Die because of murder. Die in accidents. Die because of natural disasters. Die in battle. She saw death many times, and anothers she was the one who would serve it.

But Death wasn't intimidatting untill she came to Tayvat and found herself alone. Without her brother, she surrounded herself with these tiny fragile creatures whose the lives are too short. Because of this affection, she started fearing Death for the first time in her entire existence.

Or well. Praising how precious life is for the first time.

The pain in her chest, how worried she would be, is something new to her. Lumine feels fragile, powerless and she hates it.

"... You are worried, traveller? I wasn't expecting that." Childe laughed, and a her sarrow turned to red anger.

"This is serious!" Lumine shouted, clenching her teeth. When he didnt stop, Lumine approached and pulled his scarf, so his face was near hers. "I am not joking, Ajax!"

His defensive barriers fell almost immeadtly, his eyes were now so sad.

"Dammit, Lumi. I should have never told you my name."

"This is not..." Her sentece stopped, feeling his gloved hand touching her left cheek with tenderness. The honey eyes turned huge, this kindness was so different of him.

"My illusion, indeed, shorts my life, camrade." He started. "But the ones Scaramouche were giving to the Resistance were a mere prototype. Old ones, from when the Fatui just found out about this tech. The collateral damage of my illusion is not so... radical. I am not going to die anytime soon."

"T... This.... This is not good enough." Her voice was fragile. Lumine hated it. She hates to feel weak.

"If it is to get stronger, that is a price I am willing to pay. You know what is my dream. And if an illusion is a way to get it, I will take it."

He finally take a step back.

"What about Teucer?" She wanted to ask. "What about Tonia and Anthon? What about your older siblings and your parents? Didnt you think of how devastated they would be?"

But Lumine remained silent. She knew she already pushed him too far. In that they were similar. They hated to feel fragile, and they turn fragility into anger, and a harmfull sarcasm.

In Childe's case, he is most likely to kill something.

She took a deep breath, and builde her self confident being again.

"... Alright." Her voice finally was as strong as she wanted to be. "Just be careful, in case."

Childe did the same thing. The same bright and malicious look.

"The same for you. Don't get yourself killed. I am looking forward to our next sparr, girlie."

"Goodbye, Tartaglia."

"See ya, traveller."

And he turned his back.

Masks. They both use it like a second skin by now.

#chilumi #lumine #childe #tartaglia #ajax #genshin impact #fanfiction #genshin fic #my fanfic #my stuff #traveller #childe x lumine #otp: You're like the stars in the night skye #After Teppei #I was wanderimg about Childe #and then this fic appeared

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raamyun-and-rambles · 3 years

Text

Of Qingxins and Rattles: One

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Xiao x Reader

Summary: He's afraid to reach out, to touch something so pure that a being like him must never hold. The voices in his head scream blasphemy and lies.

———–

Xiao was a being that has existed for thousands of centuries.

Which meant that he has outlived countless of people, watching them come and go as they eventually get taken by the passage of time.

It was also safe to say that the yaksha has experienced much more than any other mortal could in their entire lifetime. He's travelled the entirety of Liyue on foot, has bore witness to phenomenon that people could only talk about in hushed whispers as the eons pass them by and has fought a number of battles that no human could ever imagine. The blood that stained his hands wasn't something that could be easily washed away and Xiao was convinced that anything good touched by those hands would wither and perish. He was a sinner and Xiao was determined to live the rest of his life paying off the debt of his sins in perpetual agony until you waltzed into his life, turning everything he's come to known in disarray the moment he saw the breeze catch locks of your (h/c) as you overlooked Dihua Marsh from Wangshu Inn's balcony.

In retrospect, the Yaksha should have known better than to meddle in trivial human affairs. You were just another face among thousands he's met. You shouldn't have been able to draw him in the way you did. Yet here he was now, putty in your arms as you stroked gentle circles on the small of his back, whispering words of love and reassurance that Xiao knows he doesn't deserve but soaks it up all the same.

Perhaps...just maybe - Xiao thinks with a hopeful afterthought as his lips press against yours in a silent act of worship of your presence, fingers ghosting feather light touches onto your skin - maybe he too deserved even a moment of respite, to love and be loved.

To simply exist in bliss.

Xiao looks at you with a gaze that displays deep unspoken emotion. He watches you in awe even with the simplest of his things.

He watches in awe as you work your way in the kitchen, weaving your way through the space and he fights back a chuckle as you almost trip. He catches you before you could hurt yourself though (he always does).

He watches in awe even when you rouse from your sleep, admiring the way the sun bathes you in a warm glow as it floods into the room from the open window. He admires the way your lashes slowly flutter as you attempt to blink away the sleep that raptures your system, sending him a small smile as you nuzzle further into his embrace, murmuring something about needing a couple more hours of rest. Xiao scoffs at that every time, knowing you'd oversleep (yet he always allows you).

Mortal traditions don't normally interest Xiao, yet he watches in awe as you walked down the makeshift aisle the inn staff had prepared, donned in fine silk and Qingxin braided in your hair. Xiao thought you've never looked more beautiful, like a goddess that has descended from Celestia itself. It takes him a while to recover from the sight and by then you're already standing next to him with the brightest of smiles, holding his hand and intertwining your fingers. The entire world tuned out of existence and the only thing Xiao could see was you. He doesn't even remember what he said for his vows, too awestruck to even form a coherent sentence as his thoughts reeled a thousand miles per second. Whatever it was he said seemed to make you happy and Xiao allows himself to smile as he slips the ring onto your finger. There weren't many to bear witness to the day you both promised to be one - except perhaps Verr, Huai'an and the traveler who each played a part - but for Xiao it was more than enough to feel the plush of your lips against his under the light of the moon and the stars.

(Zhongli couldn't help but smile at the scene before him but he leaves without another word, receding into the darkness of the night before anyone could take notice.)

Xiao worried the most throughout your pregnancy and even more so on the day you gave birth. Mortals are far too fragile of a creature and Xiao was hyperaware of this fact as he paced to and fro outside the door, could only hear the way you cry out and the midwife's gentle encouragement as she eases you through the process. There was a moment of silence and Xiao had to fight the urge to burst into the room, thinking that something terrible must have gone wrong until suddenly there was a tiny cry and Xiao's heart seized up in his throat.

He was allowed inside a moment later and he immediately moves to your side, gently stroking your hair as you smiled up at him tiredly before turning your gaze to the baby swaddled in your arms.

"Congratulations," the midwife had said, a smile on her face before leaving the room, "it's a healthy baby girl."

No amount of words could have ever expressed the emotion swirling in Xiao's eyes, both anxiety, joy and excitement clashing within amber speckled orbs but his hand stops in mid-air and all of a sudden time feels as though it was suddenly put to a halt.

Is this truly alright?

He's afraid to reach out, to touch something so pure that a being like him must never hold. The voices in his head scream blasphemy and lies.

Perhaps this was just some dream he's conjured up in the hazy murk of his mind and he'll wake up on the roof of the inn like he's always had with only the frigid wind keeping him company. That's right, maybe this wasn't true at all. He's simply far too gone that he's fabricated an ideal world of his making. One where he lives in peace, where he's loved and accepted. The iron tang of blood suddenly fills the air and all at once he imagines the battles he's fought, the sickening squelch of metal against flesh and the dust and grime of battles waged in war. The screams, the cries, the pain, the agony-

A small hand wrapping itself around his pinky successfully pulls him out of his trance and the soft giggle and coo that followed after it made Xiao's chest constrict tightly with an emotion he can't seem to place.

Xiao's breath catches in his throat as the small fist around his finger grounded him back to reality.

For a moment Xiao felt stupid for allowing himself to be consumed by how his mind wandered back into one of the darkest fragments of his memory, how could he when he was in front of the very two things that shone light in his life of perpetual agony?

The adepti allowed a shaky breath himself a shaky breath at long last, leaning closer so he could rest his head against yours while he allowed his daughter to hold onto his pinky.

"Can I..." he started, fumbling with his words as he kept his gaze fixated on the infant, "can I hold her?"

The apprehension in his voice was terribly apparent and in an effort to calm his nerves you gently press a kiss to his cheek, nodding before carefully placing the child in his awkward attempt of a cradle. He quickly adjusts himself with your careful guidance, much more silent than he already usually is as the baby babbled sleepily. You will yourself to stay awake despite the fatigue and discomfort settling in your bones, opting instead to lean back against the headboard as you watch Xiao marvel in the presence of your child.

"I'll protect you." Xiao says a moment later, voice soft yet filled with determination.

He turns to face you this time and you swore you saw his eyes glisten with the beginning of tears but you don't get so much of a second chance to look before he rests his forehead against your shoulder, purposely hiding so you won't see the way he breaks and the vulnerability that lies behind the battle-hardened warrior of one of Rex Lapis' strongest Yakshas.

"I'll protect the both of you no matter what the cost."

You're both terribly precious to me.

———–

I feel like I idealize relationships with these characters so much because of how touch-starved and affection craved I am but I live for soff Xiao so here. Take this mushy thing I made during class again wwww

I do hope it wasn’t too OOC at least

#Genshin Impact #Genshin Impact Xiao #genshin impact fanfiction #Genshin Impact x Reader #Xiao x Reader #Of Qingxins and Rattles

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kimmibers · 3 years

Text

@pancakewaffles-blog1 Thank you for you prompt of ‘ Angels and Demons’ I hope you enjoy reading this. Sorry it’s taken me a few days.

Kim xx

His Angel

“So...It's a full moon tonight..”

“It is?-”

“Come on Sasuke, tell your best friend-”

“You call yourself that, not me-”

“Ha! You can't fool me we've been best friends since imps, and anyway don't change the subject. Where does the Prince of darkness go every full moon?”

“That's just a mystery for the Prince of Darkness to know, and you, my little imp friend to never find out.” Sasuke smirked walking away.

With the sun finally set Sasuke, the devils least favourite son, sneaked across the border of his fathers realm. It was easy, it shouldn't have been but after years of eluding the guards it had become second nature.

The human world is their mutual territory, where angels and demons can inflict their abilities and create havoc, in the case of Sasuke's kind, and whatever angels created. In his opinion their influence could seem endearing but he found it meddlesome. Why couldn't they just leave the humans alone? What did it matter what happened to they puny, insignificant little lives?

In the human realm the sun had set hours ago, the forest, their secret spot, bathed in natural light of the moon.

Being a mid autumns night every now and again a cloud would cover their natural light basking them in darkness. These were the moments Sasuke enjoyed the most, the unspoken minutes when darkness could take away all their inhibitions and allowed them to take actions you wouldn't have done in light.

“Sasuke-Kun.” He smiled, the first since the last full moon.

“Hinata.” He answered simply.

“Were you spotted?” He couldn't help the small chuckle of arrogance escape at her innocent question.

“Am I ever?”

“Good.” She sighed in relief.

They sat then, side by side on the log conveniently placed by a storm a few years back. Actually, in all honesty the storm had been Sasuke on one particular rampage. She lent her head against his shoulder and they sat in silence, looking to the moon.

“Our fathers -”

“Please, not this again.” Sasuke rolled his eyes. “We've been going back and forth over this for years now.”

“I know, but, do you think they would ever accept-”

“A demon and angel? No, I don't.” He lifted her chin for her now sad eyes to meet his,”Hinata, I don't mean my honesty to hurt you. But our parents are both set In their ways, for eons now. They just can't and won't understand our friendship.”

“I know your right, but I want them to see the good in you, like I do.”

“You're such an...an angel.” He chuckled, “I'm a demon, dark spawn, what light could you possibly see in me?”

“You joke, but I get the feeling your serious.” Hinata's eyes widened at the realisation. Sasuke stayed quiet and lent back. “Your mother.”

Sasuke turned away from Hinata, her words stinging him like a swarm of wasps. Although he knew she had never, and would never mean to cause him pain.

“I-I'm not allowed to talk about her.” Sasuke stammered uncharacteristically.

“Your father?”

“Hmm.” He agreed.

“Perhaps,” Hinatas voice gently guiding his eyes back to her. “I could tell you about her.”

“She a tooth fairy now?” He gave a small chuckle, trying to desperately hide the emotions building within.

“A guardian angel.”

“Seems fitting.” He smirked.

As predicted, a cloud enveloped the moon, their only sauce of light, and now in darkness he could ask a question without witnessing her reaction.

“Does she remember me?” His voice sounding to his own ear like the small child he had been when she had lost her life to save his own.

His mothers actions on that fateful day had changed Sasuke's life and not necessarily for the better. With his father in a state of despair and depression from the grief of loosing the love of his entire existence, he had become a empty vessel. His heart darkened with bereavement, turning him to the swiftly to an evil path and eventually becoming the devil and ruler of the daemon realm. In the years thereafter his fathers hate had turned from the world, to it's soul occupier: Sasuke.

“She begged to become the guardian of the boy she now in her care. I think, she reminds her of you.”

“Me?” Sasuke frowned.

“He's much younger of course being 13-”

“You forgot charming-”

“Oh how brainless of me,” She chuckled, “Yes, he has a certain charm I suppose.” She admitted. “His life could be radiant with light, if he would only make the right choices.”

With the cloud dissipating, the moon once again caked them in its beams of light. They remained quiet then, in a comfortable silence, both simply enjoying the others company without the need fill the space with inconsequential blabbering.

Sasuke's mind wondered to their 1st encounter. A mission; To bring balance to the human realm at the time engrossed in war. Such a mission was unheard of, an angel and demon required to work together. Between them they had had to make decisions, some harder than others. Compromised, when plans had gone astray. A life saved and another to be greeted by their fellows in the afterlife. In that, most troublesome and complex of time their friendship had formed, trust earned; something rarely given by himself.

“Hinata?”

“Hmm?” She replied. He glanced towards her, judging her reaction. Her eyes were closed and face pointing towards the moon, if they were in the sun anyone would think she was savouring the suns warmth.

“Do you think-” He stopped himself, and took pause of his thoughts.

“What is is Sasuke-Kun?” She turned her body, facing him, their knees almost touching. He scrutinized the sky, waiting obediently for the next inevitable cloud to conceal the moon once more.

“Do you think” He began again, “You can fall in love without a heart?”

Even in the darkness he could feel her gaze seeking his own. The space between them becoming so intense and electric could of fuelled an entire city.

In her own way Hinata didn't answer his question with words. Instead, he felt one of her fingers tentatively touching his own in the gap between them on their log.

“You've turned my world on it's axis,” He confessed in the pitch-black forest, “What had once seemed right, now seems wrong.” His hand took hold of her small one in his own and their fingers interlocked. “You starve and near exhaust me with your willingness to put others before yourself. Everything I've done, I've done for you. I'd move the stars for no-one; but you.” He heard her gasp, it's noise reverberating off the trees. “Don't you think we've done enough for humans? Our fathers? Perhaps it's time we be selfish, together.”

“I-I would like that.” Her voice sounding course with emotion.

“I would be human for you.”

“Sasuke.” She sighed. Of course she knew what those words meant. She knew his view on humans, and therefore understood the depth of them.

Then moon un-obscured by clouds once again, the secret placed doused in light. Therefore giving Sasuke the advantage of catching Hinata's quick glimpses from his eyes to his mouth. This own vision mirrored hers.

Slowly, they both closed the gap, both leaning towards the other. Sasuke angled his head to one side, to get a better angle. With his lips just a hairs width from hers he looked to her gaze once more, giving her the opportunity to pull away. She didn't. Hinata's eyes closed and at long last he felt her smooth and supple lips tenderly press his own. His own eyes closed and an involuntary groan escaped at the euphoria of such a sensation. He could feel her hands wrap around his shoulders pulling him all the more closer, his own wrapping around the curve of her waist.

He broke the kiss only to move his head to the other side, testing if a different angle achieved the same result. With each millisecond they had both come to the same conclusion, their lips touching would not be enough. Each opened their mouths, tongues grazed.

He may think humans insignificant and irrelevant but even he'd admit the act of kissing could very well redeem their every discretion.

#SasuHina #sasuhina fanfic #angels and demons #writing prompt #sasukexhinata #sasuke x hinata #My writing

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concentratedbitterness · 3 years

Text

The Partnership

Hell: Late Neolithic Period

They’re laughing at her. This is the thought that echoes in the demon’s mind as she makes her way down the halls of Hell’s infamous Manufacturing Department. She is somebody now–freshly promoted just over every other shitstain in the Pit, perhaps, but rank is rank all the same–and by all rights these dungeon trolls should be groveling at her feet as they do for the other procurement personnel. Except that they do not fall to their knees, no, they slap them with laughter. She cannot blame them. They all know why she is here.

Nybbas has thrust her atop a burning hill of shit and bade her build a kingdom from the ashes while the flames still rage. It is a fools’ errand, and one he means for her to fail. Her superior has set her up only to take the fall for him. Given the insurmountable task, that is precisely what the entire Monarchia expects will happen–Quotas missed, contracts lost, and someone’s head must inevitably go on the chopping block–but Mara refuses to accept her likely fate without a fight. She always has felt some masochistic drive to find a silver lining, after all, and what sparkles through the coals is the large swath of Nybbas’ territory that she now, technically, controls. Mismanaged and neglected for countless millennia, it is a veritable desert of overgrown crossroads and yet…perhaps, with enough hard work and a healthy dose of ingenuity, there is a sliver of a chance.

But she cannot do it alone, she knows this. To hold fast to even the faintest hope she requires a lieutenant; a partner to watch her back, guard her meager territory, and facilitate her contracts. Given her circumstances, however, it is not a promising proposition–she has already been turned down by every capable soldier this side of the Pit. Hence, she has ventured here, to the racks, vying for some freshly carved scrap of a damned soul that is ignorant enough of the ways of Hell to sign their own death warrant. Most demons churned from the bowels of the Pit are quickly claimed for the legions of far more powerful commanders than she, but maybe she will stumble at last upon a stroke of luck. She’s about due for some.

“You there,” She says to the first torturer in the row as she draws to a halt, gaze settling upon his blade as he draws it down the belly of some poor fuck on his rack. “–Where do they keep the unclaimed? I…” Her words trail off, and suddenly Mara feels as small and lost as she must surely look.

Not often someone gets lost around the racks. Technically, no one much comes down here unless they’re strung up. It truly is a terrible place to be. That’s the point of it, after all. To one who has survived the Pit, of course, it feels half like home, but demons are made to be most comfortable in discomfort.

The old demon is up to his sleeves in metaphysical blood when he hears the voice behind him. Not that he appears bothered; he finishes his slice, blade tinged in red. “Y’don’t want them,” he says, attention on his work. “They’re all paranoid. Sadistic. More like hellhounds than competent soldiers.” The thing on the rack splutters and pleas. The noise is interrupting his conversation, so he sinks his blade into its lungs. Now, all it does is hiss, and he turns to look at Mara. “I’d know,” he adds. “I made them that way.”

The younger demon nods, swallowing thickly. She took her turn here years ago, just like the rest, forced to toil in the Pit after what remained of the human blight on her soul had been cut away. A distant past, perhaps, but it is not something easily forgotten. Leaving the racks behind had seemed a step up at the time, though servitude under Nybbas is not altogether incomparable. She was not made to be a soldier or a torturer–not in the sense that this demon was. Some were simply meant for sales. Hell is nothing if not a grand machine, and every cog has their part to play.

Her eyes settle not upon the poor, decrepit soul writhing in agony on the rack, but rather on the creature attached to the hand doling it out with such practiced ease that he almost seems bored. He’s old. Ancient, if the power wafting off of his true form is any indication–easily a relic from a time when Hell was not so crowded as it is now. Most of the demons who are old enough to remember such times sit comfortably atop the hierarchy–leaders; respected and feared–and yet this one seems content to do the same dirty work as the fresh grunts. “Beggars can’t be choosers.” Mara admits, and then his words play again in her mind.

“–You made them that way?” The crossroads demon echoes absently, gaze shifting back to the thing wheezing and hissing on the rack. There is not exactly a standard protocol where torture in Hell is concerned–suffering is suffering and each soul requires a unique touch to divest it of human weakness–but in the end the goal of the Manufacturing Department is to produce as many viable demons from the souls procured as possible. “It seems a waste of raw material…”

And suddenly, something occurs to her. A spark, but it is enough.

“…A waste of your talent.” She looks up at the other demon–really looks at him–and she can see it as clearly as the discontentment written on a human soul come to call at the crossroads. He may be overqualified tenfold, but he is directionless; passing time waiting for something that will never find him here in the wretched squalor of the Pit.

It is as futile a notion as reaching for the stars, but she reminds herself that even if they remain firmly swirling through the Heavens one will get a nice view, a good stretch, and perhaps even a low-hanging apple for the effort. “I…I have a proposition for you,” She ventures, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her lips, “How do you feel about a challenge?”

He smirks, and Mara wonders if it’s not the first time someone so low in the hierarchy has dared so much as to speak to him, let alone offer him a proposition. “A challenge?” he says, throwing her words back at her with a mocking note. “Ain’t that a little above your paygrade?”

“Isn’t carving duty a little below yours?” Mara retorts without missing a beat. In truth, he is not wrong. It is practically unheard of for someone like her to have ever been promoted to command in the first place–she’s certain the other demon knows as well as she does that it is only a technical mantle, so that when the Monarchia rains down punishment for Nybbas’ failure he will have her to offer up as a scapegoat. Still, rank is rank, and as long as she’s got a slippery grip on this rung there is still half a chance to hold fast…perhaps one day to climb. Let go, and she will be lucky not to find herself strapped to one of these racks again. It is nothing if not tremendous motivation to succeed.

The old one rips the innards out of the thing on the racks, tosses them to the ground with a wet slap. The soul’s eyes go cold and blind and that’s his cue; he steps away. After all, breaking things is easy. Taking things to the very brink of collapse and then pulling away right before they shattered…that required a little more finesse. Task complete, he turns all of his attention to the demon in front of him now. “You’re Nybbas’s bitch, right?” No need to mince words down here. “I like your grit, but you don’t got anything to offer me.”

She takes a small step back as a tangle of entrails drops unceremoniously to the floor, blood and ichor splattering her toes. The gore does not perturb her, but she will need to shed this host before venturing back to the sales floor lest Nybbas’ hounds catch the scent of fresh meat upon her. It is of little consequence–the younger demon has never possessed one long enough to grow attached; that is a custom reserved for those who have achieved success.

“Best you not let Nybbas hear you call me that,” She warns, “–He will take the comparison as an insult to his dogs.” This is not news to any demon who knows of her superior or his two ferocious hellhounds. There is a flicker of defeat in her eyes when the older demon seems to turn her down, but there is too much riding on this chance and she wills it away quickly. “That was not a ‘no’,” She points out hopefully, clearly not ready to give up. “It is true, I haven’t much to offer. Yet. But I will. If you help me, I will. In the meantime, it costs you nothing to step away from this…” She waves a hand absently at the mutilated soul, “…The Damned will still be here. How many eons have you stood tethered to these same racks; trying to find some new way to hack on these same tired souls? If you pledge service to me I will have leave to take you Topside; to the mortal realm…to a territory that has not known what it is to fear a demon in over a thousand years. Yours could be the face in their nightmares. I won’t lie to you, the work will be long and grueling, but you are not afraid to get your hands dirty, are you?” Her gaze flicks to the bloodsoaked hands in question, “Take a chance on me, that is all I ask. Let me show you what I can do. You have nothing to lose if I fail, but if I succeed you have everything to gain. We are not so different, you and I. We have nowhere to go but up.”

“Topside, huh?”

Clearly, she has his attention. “Topside,” She confirms with a nod. Short of a formal summons, the only way a Pit demon goes Topside is in the service of a salesman.

Mara can feel him sizing her up, deciding perhaps whether or not to devour her on the spot. She has no doubt that he could. He glances away, considers it for only a second, and then he finally says, casually, “Alright. I’ll pledge five years Topside to you. Then we’ll reconsider.”

Her eyes go wide when the old demon nonchalantly pledges five years to her. He’s teasing me, she thinks at first, but then it becomes obvious that he’s serious and it is all she can do to stand there dumbly before him. And then, before she even realizes it, she’s laughing. Five years is not much, but for her conundrum it is ironically more than necessary. “We only have three,” she tells him, any trace of amusement quickly fading.

Three years to turn around a territory that has not been quota compliant for centuries. The demon steps over the pile of entrails at her feet, poking a finger at the other demon’s chest as she peers up at him, “I make you this promise–It will not be easy; you are going to work harder than you have ever worked, we will struggle, we will not rest, and I don’t care if I have to suck every cock in the territory to do it, I am going to get the contracts I need…and in three years time you will stand by my side as I throw a sales report in Nybbas’ face that will make his head spin. I will not fail, I swear it. I won’t forget who helped me do it. And you–” She doesn’t even know his name, “–You will not regret taking a chance on me.” She rolls up onto her toes to press a chaste kiss to the old demon’s lips, sealing their business contract. “Get your things. We have so much work to do.”

#[muse tag :: mara]#[file :: drabble]#[file :: headcanon]#[relationship tag :: lucius]

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celestialholz · 4 years

Photo

... I know, right? ‘Where the hell have you been, woman?’ I hear you all shouting from the rafters, and to that I say: the world has fucked me, and not in a good way. I don’t have a job any longer, I probably won’t have an apartment shortly, but what I do have is the ability to write good and ridiculous Qcard again thanks to the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest and I’ll be damned if I squander it! For the uninitiated, the contest aims to find ‘the worst opening lines in all fiction that will hopefully never be complete', and naturally I took one look at this and went ‘inspirational, stunning, fantastic, drown me in it’ because I am absolutely wild. So with my grand thanks to the genius that is Mr Archer, welcome thusly to a little thing I like to called Timed Out. :D

Have missed this, honestly... (Selma, I know you’ll want in, and thus @q-card ^_^)

--------------------------------------------------

Q of the Continuum hovered in silence, peering dully through a galaxy-wide nebula of dimness, with the exact same grimace he’d been sporting since he’d accidentally destroyed the phenomena known as time, twelve centimetres ago.

“Well, it could be worse,” he thought aloud, rationale not quite keeping up with his inner mutterings. “Who even needs time? I’ll just... I’ll just pretend it never happened. No one will even notice, it’ll be absolutely fine!”

He sighed deeply, dispelling particles of nebula across light... inches? Furlongs? Something non-timey, he imagined.

His siblings were going to kill him.

“It could be worse, it could be worse,” he murmured as a sort of enigmatic mantra, wincing at the sheer chaos; trillions upon trillions of threads were scattered where they’d once led to individual worlds and lives beneath the blankness, the grandest and most horrific tangle of wool in the knitting box that was the universe. “I can absolutely fix this, completely -”

He tugged at sixteen ribbons simultaneously, all of which crumbled to atoms beneath his touch. Well, what was sixteen mortals having no perception of their own mortality, or their wedding anniversaries, or their children’s birthdays? Who would even notice? Certainly not them...

Were entities supposed to covet large quantities of stiff alcohol? Perhaps Jean-Luc would have something relevant, a nice dose of mental clar -

Oh stars, he realised silently. Merde!

He snapped instantly, summoning his beloved captain; Jean-Luc Picard stood stock-still, frozen in a moment, brow ironically risen as he stared unknowingly into the dust of shattered time.

“Well, mildly awkward,” Q began at a man who definitely couldn’t hear him, feeling a practice run may be in order. “You see, dear, this was the linear progression of the universe, but you know of course that I like to tinker whilst you’re at work...” He cleared his throat pointedly, started again - that would hardly pass.

“’What’s this, darling?’ I hear you enquire affectionately, not at all furiously... well, my precious captain, I’m glad you asked! This was time, and now it’s slightly... exploded, but -”

His head spontaneously fell into his hands, a moan of sheer despair rising in an anguished muffle. Maybe he should summon an impenetrable wall, hide behind it for the rest of... space, he assumed. Perhaps several billion metres’ worth.

Never mind his siblings, his husband was going to murder him fathoms before they even realised his cataclysmic idiocy.

What is it humans say, Q - ‘rip the band-aid off’?

He stood a little straighter, grimaced painfully, concentrated, and clicked; Picard’s physical form miraculously began to ignore the fact it was outside the time that no longer existed, though he seemed rather surprised at his position in open space, and even more astonished at what was before him.

“Q? What in the name of - where are we?” He snapped. “I’m rather in the middle of something -”

“Oh, I’m sure you were absolutely swept off your feet,” Q breezed, “but you’ve no need to worry about that any longer, I assure you... or possibly ever again.”

There was an awkward pause, charged by the most caustic of glares.

“What the hell have you done?”

He should vanish, Q knew in the protracted few millimetres, or send him home, find a way to fix it alone, because how in the cosmos’ name was a mere human meant to help with this, however extraordinary he was?

‘Communication is key to this relationship’s success, Q - if we are to flourish, you must explain your actions when necessary, and I mine.’ It had been whispered against his human shell in the dead of evening, a soft understanding, and he’d shivered against the silent vow of the promise his eyes offered.

“You’re going to grievously overreact, Jean-Luc.”

“That is a distinct possibility, yes.”

How very reassuring. He swallowed, spun the man to the madness before him.

“So, once upon a -” wonderful phrasing there, Q... “That whole ‘time’ thing, mon capitaine, the one you really enjoy following the regular mortal pathway of?”

Picard paled four distinct shades, and Q absently checked he’d oxygenated him sufficiently.

“That’s... time?!”

“It was,” the god corrected, wishing the thankfully intact fabric of reality would swallow him, essence and all, where he hovered. “It’s a comprehensive mess, now. We are thoroughly timed out. Out of time, my dear. Do hope your uniform’s a timeless fashion -”

“Fix it,” Picard commanded simply, eyes ablaze with the fires of supernovas. Q rolled his own in exasperation.

“If I could just fix it, do you think we’d be having this conversation?”

Fury and despair in flawless equilibrium met him, and he subtly shifted in discomfort.

“Are you trying to suggest that time itself is irreparably fractured?”

Good galaxies, they’d gotten to raised voices... “Well no, not quite. I’m trying to suggest that it doesn’t exist at all. No connections, threadbare, mostly gaseous... a comprehensive disaster, if you will.” He cleared his throat, chancing a glance at his livid husband. “You’re not appreciating the flippancy.”

“Indeed not,” snapped Picard. “You will fix this, dammit!”

Q was glad one of them had some level of confidence, at least. “I’m going to try very hard, Jean-Luc. What would be helpful is a good mortal perspect -”

Ah, he realised. I’m in love with one of those.

He levelled the still-enraged captain with his most curious gaze, glimmer of a smile tugging at lips. “How good are you at sitting still, dear?”

Picard pursed lips primed to throw the most toxic of statements at his usually beloved before Q tilted his head in deferrence.

“... Might be for several hundred light-kilometres... fear not, I faithfully promise to keep you alive!”

“Consider me reassured,” Picard spat, before letting loose a frustrated sigh that sounded rather more like a snarl. “Will you at least grant me a seat, then?”

-------------------------

“Right!” Q muttered three weeks on, having finally reestablished the concept of a week in the past several light millimetres. Seconds had almost reappeared - he estimated it would take an extra quarter-parsec or so. “Almost done, dear - did you perhaps need a break? I could chill some wine -”

No, Picard thought at him coldly, unable to do much else whilst he was viewing the whole of space-time through a wide-angled lens - ‘I need someone who understands linearity, dearest! An electron microscope of simplicity. I avow you shall forget everything you ever learned!’ He took a brief second to twitch just slightly, to pointedly sharpen a dulled glare of utter rage. Finish the damned job!

“Duly noted, just thought I’d ask...”

... He was definitely going to be sleeping on the couch for a good while to come, he knew in defeat.

---------------------------

“Well, that was educational,” Q had murmured eventually, withdrawing from his husband’s mental space completely at last. It had been two million, four hundred and nineteen thousand, two hundred and six seconds, a concept that finally made complete sense again. He could divide it down to the yoctosecond, round it up to the closest eon, meet himself in the middle and long-multiply the distance in working days from Saturn to the lower atmosphere of Betazed at warp three and a half.

It might well take at least that long for Jean-Luc to forgive him, he thought dully.

Well, at least they had the luxury of allowing him the time now - and if he snuck in silently next to him once he was asleep, altered his mass to nothingness to remain undetected, he wasn’t about to mention it.

“Goodnight, Jean-Luc,” he announced mildly, readjusting a blanket slung haphazardly across the couch.

“I hate you,” his husband replied frostily. “Lights.”

He knew better than to click them out. “Oh, you don’t.”

“I really wish I did, sometimes.”

Q grinned merrily, hiding it behind the covers of Shakespeare’s complete works.

#qcard #q #picard #tng #star trek #drabble #bulwer-lytton fiction contest #not finishing your killer openings is for sensible people tbh #when your husband's such a top that you're on the couch despite your omnipotence #celestial's back on her bullshit chaps \o/

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

My Little Secret (Part 3)

Summary: When a tragic accident happens, Dean takes a drastic measure in order to save the person he cares about most…

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,900ish

Warnings: language, time in hell/injury, death

______

“Good morning sunshine!” you heard. You slowly opened your eyes, Alistair kneeling down beside your cell. “How’d the first week go kid?”

“Screw you,” you said, closing your eyes again.

“Want to take a guess how long you been here?”

“Um, a week, asshole,” you said.

“Here yes. In the real world, it’s only been a few minutes,” he said. You opened your eyes, Alistair smirking at you. “Oh, yes. Time’s a bit different down here. Ready to get off the rack yet?”

“Screw you asshole,” you said.

“Always tomorrow to change your mind.”

“How was it today?” asked Alistair, stopping by your cell not long after you’d been dumped in there for the day.

You didn’t move, not that you wanted to. He opened the door and knelt down beside you, cocking his head.

“Want to get off the rack?” he asked, same as he did every day. You stared at his shoe, Alistair poking your shoulder. “You haven’t felt like talking in a long time. You get off the rack, you can get cleaned up, relax in a bed, become my star student. There are perks to that.”

“Promise,” you said quietly.

“Sure I promise,” he laughed.

“No,” you said, closing your eyes.

“Fine. Back on the rack you go.”

“Y/N,” said Alistair as he visited you maybe a month later. It could have been a year. You weren’t paying attention anymore. You knew a month up there was a decade down there but your ability to keep track of time was more skewed than not lately. “What do you say? Off the rack today?”

“Promise,” you mumbled.

“What do you want to do?” you heard Abbadon say. “Almost everyone breaks by now.”

“Put her on a rack for a few years. See how she’s feeling after that.”

“I see you eyeing my knife more often,” said Alistair one day, your gaze flickering over slowly from it to him.

“What’s it like?” you asked.

“Tearing into flesh? It’s an art form, not a science,” he said.

“I meant what’s it like being the big bad demon and you can’t break me. You must be the laughing stock of Hell,” you laughed, hearing a few other demons turn away from their own racks. “Aren’t you guys embarrassed of this old hack?”

“I will-“

“You’ll what? You’ve already done everything. Face it. You’re washed up,” you said.

“You’re having your second wind. Don’t worry. No one ever has a third.”

“Rack?” asked Alistair what felt like an eon later. “It has been decades kiddo. It’s okay to say uncle.”

“I wonder how long your little ass lasted before you gave up to Lucifer. A week?” you smirked.

“Dean doesn’t care about you. If you want to continue this charade that’s your choice. He is never coming for you.”

“Rack?” asked Alistair once again at the end of the day. You sat up in your cell, staring at him. “Hm?”

“What do I have to do?” you whispered, barely able to hold yourself up.

“Work the rack. Under my tutelage,” he said. “What do you say?”

You gave a single nod, Alistair smirking.

“Come now. One quick lesson to start and then you can rest,” he said. For the first time, there was no one dragging you through the halls, no hand on you as you followed him through a maze and eventually into the open vastness that was the rack room. He hummed and waved for you to follow him to an occupied one, a trembling man on it. “This is a purely innocent man. He made a deal. George, this is Y/N. She also made a deal but now she has the opportunity to not be in your position. But enough chit chat, Y/N needs to learn and you’re going to be a very good boy and help us out.”

You watched his table of instruments appear, Alistair handing you his favorite curved blade.

“You know the hunter special?” he asked you. You nodded, staring at the tool. “Show George here how it goes.”

You stared down at the man, holding up the blade.

“I’m sorry,” you said. You spun around and stabbed it into Alistair, sighing when he disappeared in front of you, appearing off to the side unharmed. “It was a trick.”

“You tried to trick me first,” he said, your body back on a rack, George free and on his feet now. “So George. Would you like to try?”

George stopped apologizing a while back, just slid up, did his thing and moved onto the next person. You didn’t blame him. It was hard to blame someone that had lost their humanity bit by bit. It was easier that way.

“What do we say today?” asked Alistair. You shook your head and heard him leave you, a few hours of sleepless alone time your one reprieve of the day.

You heard your cell door open and you didn’t even care that they weren’t giving you a break this time.

You just didn’t care anymore.

You sucked in a deep breath, darkness surrounding you. Something was wrong. You weren’t on the rack. You weren’t in your cell. Something just felt wrong. The air felt wrong. Space felt wrong.

You slammed your hand and scraped it on something, a stinging pain hitting you.

A very different kind of pain than you were used to. You tried to sit up and smacked your head immediately, groaning at the dull throbbing.

“I’m alive,” you said to yourself, letting out a shaky breath. “As long as I don’t run out of air.”

You suddenly realized how cold you were, hands feeling around more slowly this time, smooth metal all around you.

“I’m in a morgue drawer again. I’ll be interested to know how…” you said to yourself, quickly realizing you were starting to freeze to death. “Shit.”

You felt around over your head, finding a little string somehow and you pulled, the door flying open. You caught it and pulled yourself out, dropping to the floor with a shake. You righted yourself, finding a doctor standing over an open body. He stared and gave a little wave.

“Uh hi,” you said, wrapping your sheet around yourself. “I’ll just...see myself out.”

You jogged out of the room and down a hall, discovering you were in a county clerks office after a moment. You slipped into a breakroom and found some old clothes in a donation bin, stealing what you could before you were out of there on bare feet.

“Mom? Dad?” you called when you got to the house, opening the door with the spare key. You went inside and to the kitchen, grabbing some water before your glass went flying and you were tackled to the floor.

You spun around on your back, staring up at a very angry looking Dean.

“Dean! Dean, it’s me!” you said.

“That’s what the shifter two months back said,” he snarled, holding up his arm, a big knife in his hand.

“Get off!” you shouted, kneeing him hard as you scrambled away, smacking your head on the corner of the kitchen table in the process. You fell to your hands and knees, rolling to your side as Dean walked in front of you. He knelt down and grabbed your wrists, staring at you before he made a small cut on the back of your hand. You stared up at him when nothing happened, some water tossed on you next. “It’s me!”

“Sweetheart?” he asked. He tossed the blade aside and pulled you into the most earth crushing hug you’d ever had.

“Dean. I need to breathe,” you said. “Also some water and food would be nice.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Here,” he said, pulling you to your feet and sitting you down at the kitchen table. He ducked into the fridge and pulled out half of an uneaten sandwich, sliding it in front of you. He was quick to get another glass of water for you, picking up the broken pieces of the other one while you dove in. You were nearly finished when he grabbed a chair and sat it next to you, watching you carefully.

“You make this?” you said with a mouthful.

“Yeah,” he said.

“You always make good sandwiches,” you said, wiping off your hands. He waited a few seconds before he was hugging you again, pressing you to his chest. “How long has it been?”

“About a year and a half,” he said.

“Are you okay?” you asked, reaching a hand up to his face. He chuckled and held on tight.

“You’ve been in hell a year and half and ask if I’m okay,” he said. “Yeah, I’m good sweetheart. I missed you so much. Longest 18 months ever.”

“Yeah,” you said with a hard swallow.

“You want to get cleaned up?” he asked. You nodded, pausing when you turned to leave. “What?”

“You didn’t make a deal, did you?” you asked. He shook his head. “You promised.”

“I kept my promise,” he said quietly. “No matter how much I didn’t want to.”

“Me too,” you said.

“You didn’t sneak out then I take it?” he asked.

“No. You don’t know how I got out then?” you asked.

“No. I’ll call your dad. They’re away right now. Let’s have you take it easy for a little bit. You need to rest,” he said.

“Alright,” you said, holding out your hand. “Come with me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Sh,” you heard Dean say when you stirred awake in your old room after your shower, head nestled on his chest. You curled back into him, Dean quiet for a few minutes but he was obviously texting someone. You blinked open your eyes, Dean dancing his fingers up and down your arm. “Go back to sleep, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to,” you said. “Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” he said, putting his phone aside.

“S’okay if you have a girlfriend now. Probably shouldn’t have taken a shower with me if you do but-“

He pressed a kiss to your lips, fixing your hair after a moment.

“The only girl I have is you, my fiancé,” he said. You stared up at him, Dean moving you to rest your head on a pillow before he sat up. “I may not have told the whole truth earlier.”

“You sold your soul you-“ you said, ready to give him the ass kicking of his life when he turned his head, so confused looking you stilled. “You didn’t.”

“I got close. I...I may have gone to a crossroads and even talked to a demon about it but I didn’t do it,” he said. “But I never went back to Lawrence.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, taking his hand.

“Your parents trained me. To hunt,” he said.

“What?”

“I’m a hunter now. A pretty good one too,” he said. You dropped his hand and stood up, going to the bedroom door. “Y/N, wait.”

“Where are they? I’m going to kill the both of them,” you said.

“No, you aren’t and they didn’t put me up to this. I asked, willingly,” he said.

“You what?” you shot back. “I asked you not to.”

“I know. But I also watched those dogs rip you apart. I didn’t want to be helpless again so I learned. I was texting another hunter earlier. I told him I couldn’t meet up on a hunt a few hours from here. That’s all it was,” he said.

“All it was?” you said with a laugh, looking him over. “Look at you. You’re so much bigger and stronger than I remember. You practically killed me downstairs.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I am,” he said.

“You know why I left hunting? Because people die and they get hurt and it fucks them up. I wanted a normal life away from this Dean. I never wanted this for you,” you said.

“Well it happened. Now I know how to protect you,” he said.

“Alistair will try again,” you said, a tiny shiver running down your spine. “It doesn’t matter. All you did was give yourself nightmares for no good reason.”

“I already had ‘em,” he said. “I help people. Maybe this job sucks sometimes and it’s hard but I help people. I have spent all of this time trying, for you. I didn’t get you out but I’m sure as hell not letting you spend another year and a half there again.”

“Did you ever get close?” you asked.

“Not really.”

“I need some air,” you said.

“I-“

“I need some air,” you said, leaving the room and going outside, wandering to the far garage and taking a seat on the workbench. It didn’t take long for Dean to find you, quiet as he leaned against the table.

“You mad at me?” he asked quietly.

“No,” you sighed. “I just didn’t want you to wind up like me.”

“You’re amazing. Why wouldn’t I want to be like you?” he asked. “Total badass on top of that. You held out for a year and a half in hell. That’s-“

“It wasn’t a year and a half,” you said.

“How long was it then?”

“Hundred and eighty,” you said softly, Dean’s face losing its color.

“Years?” he breathed out. You nodded, grabbing his arm when you thought he was going to fall over. “Oh my God.”

“Dean, sit down before you pass out,” you said, helping to sit up on the bench.

“A hundred and eighty years?” he whispered, looking you up and down. “What-“

“It’s not like, normal years. It is but it isn’t,” you said. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Sweetheart,” he said. “Sweetheart, no one could last-“

“I promised,” you said, gripping the edge of the bench hard.

“How bad.”

“Dean.”

“How bad did they hurt you?” he asked.

“Worse than you could possibly imagine,” you said, ducking your head down.

“Did they-“

“Yes. They did it all Dean,” you said. “And then some.”

“You could have broke,” he said. “Sweetheart, you could have and no one would have blamed you. No one could last that long.”

“I just remembered I made a promise. I couldn’t remember what it was sometimes but I knew I made one. I held on to that one little scrap for dear life,” you said.

“I’ll never hunt again,” he said, grabbing your hand. “Never.”

“He’s gonna come back,” you said.

“I’m gonna kill him,” said Dean. “I’ll kill ‘em all. Lock them away.”

“That’s not possible,” you sighed.

“We don’t know that. One way or another, I’m making sure these things leave you the hell alone.”

You jumped up in bed that night, Dean’s hands on you only a slight comfort as you looked around the room.

“S’okay. Just a bad dream. You’re safe,” he said.

“Yeah,” you said, pinching yourself, knowing you were still back home.

“You’re awake, I promise,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.

“Pain is different here. I can’t explain it but it is. It’s how I know I’m back,” you said.

“It kinda makes sense. It’s another plane of existence, right? Hell?”

“I suppose. A really sucky one,” you said. You sighed and leaned back against him, Dean rubbing your arm. “I’m okay. Go back to sleep, Dean.”

“You’re not okay,” he said, keeping you close, kissing the top of your head. “You don’t have to let it out tonight but whenever you decide to, I’m here, alright?”

“You don’t sleep in hell,” you said quietly. “All I wanted was a night of sleep and I can’t seem to even get through one.”

“You will. You’re safe here. You try to relax and I’ll make sure nothing happens to you,” he said. “Promise.”

You smiled and closed your eyes, Dean shifting the two of you to lay after a minute.

“So where do you want to go on our honeymoon?” he asked quietly.

“Somewhere warm,” you said.

“We can do that,” he said. “You want like a blowout wedding or a small backyard kind of thing?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “We can figure it out.”

“Do you still…” he trailed off, your gaze going up.

“Yeah. I still want to marry you,” you said quietly.

“Me too,” he said as you yawned. “I’ll be quiet. You rest now. It’s okay. I promise. He’s not coming near you ever again.”

______

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn

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shadowdianne · 4 years

Note

Any Pairing : a cup of herbal tea

I’m in the mood for some short stories. So let’s get on with this, shall we? 😉

Thanks W, for this ask. That has been sitting here for who knows how long. >> They know how long, but they are refusing to say. Shhh

And since we are in October…

Never ask a wish while empty-handed. That had always been the very first rule to those who lived at the very edge of the forest, where the greens of grass that got to see the light turned from verdant and lush to muted purples of quietly wilting herbs of those suffocated by the trees that populated the area. Never go and knock into the door of a witch without something to offer aside from the words lying on your tongue.

The path that circled the small town at that very edge was covered in dew and slowly setting mud, the air fresh and showing traces of a nearby snowstorm and, to others, to those onlookers that somewhat got a taste of what the town had to offer -fae wings encased in gold and secrets, secrets for the price of a memory, memories bottled up in crystal glasses- the path was nothing but a few lines that got lost once one reached the deep maroon-colored trees that signaled the beginning of something that hadn’t quite been tamed yet. For those who, however, lived there, the path eventually coiled around those same trees until it reached a clearing. Because, they would often said in those late nights in where tales were shared and children dared to run close, far too close, to where the town and forest met, they knew where to look.

Magic could be bought, could be contained, could be called upon, could be crystallized in the form of the most mundane objects with the aid of glyphs and runes and intent. Magic, however, couldn’t be wished. Couldn’t be created, could only be taken from a place. Unless, of course, you were a witch. A witch that would listen to one’s wish and answer to it. A shooting star among thousands of other humans. So rare, so peculiar, that, outside the borders of that little town, that curling path, almost no one believed that it could be possible.

The Dark One, however, knew better.

The trees welcomed her as she stepped into them with the confidence of one raised and born in the proximities of the promised clearing. Yet, she had come with the promise of hail and winter hot on her heels merely the night before, unseen and forgotten as soon as her steps marred the mud.

Never ask without giving something in exchange. The rules were written and forgotten, scribbled, and lost so many times prior to her own time, prior to her own investiture it didn’t matter much when she had heard them first. She merely walked, leaving the town, the not-so-hot sun, behind, until everything around her was green and purple and whispers made out of shadows and darkness that had fallen from the sky, who knew how many eons ago.

Boots leaving behind imprints as light as those feathers that would then been sold out at the town’s market, she gazed into the woods, waiting, waiting, until the path curled and halted, at the very entrance of a clearing that wasn’t truly one. A crater in where magic bubbled and lapped on her figure as she titled her head, eyes shining in dirty white.

Never ask, never second guess, what a wish gives you.

The place was just as she had expected it to be. The inhabitant of the place, however, was not. And so when the dark one brought upon her own magic, her green eyes shimmering with the power that her dagger granted her, with the force of the fae and half-made deals hot and ready on her tongue, she blinked at the sight of the witch that welcomed her, more taunting that threatening, more teasing than murderous.

“What did you bring?”

“Secrets from the edge of the world, portals made out of diamonds and scribbled runes, threats written in blood and sweat.”

“What do you want?”

The dark one had glanced up then, to the eyes of the witch, to the way she leant into the doorframe of the hut that had appeared the second she had stepped into the clearing, lines and spots made out of fire and ashes circling her body in non-ending candlelight.

“A cup of herbal tea.”

#swan queen #prompt #waknatious

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