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markosmate · 3 years

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lady

Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader

Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.

Warnings; strong language

au:// Welp lovelies I had promised you a Marko series in February that I started writing while I was manic, then after writing a good five/six chapters I fell into a deep dark hole of depression and didn’t write anything but sad, worthless poetry about a boy I’m in love with who doesn’t love me back :) But now it’s May, a spark of inspiration and happiness has suddenly hit me and I’ve come back to this series to finally deliver it to you!! I hope y’all like it cause I literally stress cried over finishing it three different times :,)

I’d also like to point out that any kind of feedback at all is so so appreciated. Most of my inspiration comes from feeding off of people’s reactions to what I write. So if you enjoy it or have any recommendations or comments at all please please don’t be shy to send me an ask or DM or even comment to let me know :( Thank you and enjoy!!

Part 2

I wasn’t exactly mad about moving, there was nothing holding me in Phoenix that I would be particularly sad about leaving behind. The only thing that struck a nerve was that it was dumped out of nowhere on me. Suddenly Mom had divorced Dad, let him keep everything, and made plans with Grandpa for us to move into his place with him. A little prior warning would have been appreciated, but regardless when we were told it didn’t change the fact that everything we knew was changing. Sam wasn’t happy about it at all, leaving his friends, leaving Dad. Michael... well Michael didn’t really have an opinion. In my view, he was just indifferent. He didn’t really care where the hell we were as long as he had a motorcycle, a job, and some hot chicks to swoon over.

But here we were, packed into Mom’s truck and driving through a town that I’d most likely have memorized like the back of my hand in a good few days. As the three in the car argued over which station to keep on, I turned my head and leaned my forehead on the window of the car. I watched the beach as we drove along the road, and admired the waves hitting against the sand.

I was ready to drift off until we got to Grandpa’s house when a short, exited yell left Mom’s lips. “Oh!” She grinned happily as Sam landed on a station familiar to her. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Oh, that’s from my era! Grooving on a Sunday afternoon!” She sung along with the song as Sam threw his head back and groaned in protest. I laughed at her antics, enjoying seeing my Mom acting so carefree and happy.

“Alright, keep going, keep going.” Mom and Sam agreed with each other at the same time, Mom leaning over to continue skipping through the stations. Finally, the next station was agreed on and my pounding head thanked the universe for the quiet that I hadn’t been able to achieve the entire drive here. “Hey we’re almost there!”

“Ugh,” Sam scrunched his nose up in disgust after taking a deep breath. I leaned forward to wrap my arms around his head-rest and pull my face closer to the open window. The pungent smell hit me, and I recognized it immediately, low tide, but it wasn’t bad - anything to do with the beach was calming to me regardless. “What’s that smell?”

“Ah!” Mom breathed in deeply and turned to share a knowing grin with me, “That’s the ocean air!”

I turned to look at the welcoming sign, taking in the colors and faded lettering. “Smells like someone died.” Sam muttered as Mom tutted at him softly.

“That’s likely.” I muttered to Michael, nudging his head in the direction of the back of the sign, where in big red spray-painted letters sat the phrase “Murder Capitol of the World.”

“Aw guys, I know the last year hasn’t been easy. But I do think you’re really going to enjoy living in Santa Carla.” Mom tried to remain happy about the situation, but a shared glance with Michael after we both read over the sign revealed there wasn’t much he was excited for.

The rest of the drive only increased my excitement. Hippies galore filled the streets, a large amusement park covered most of the boardwalk, and the rest was filled with small shops and food stands. We stopped for awhile so Mom could give some teenagers rummaging through garbage some money to eat and so Michael could unhinge his bike and ask around for job openings, but before I could even think to step out of the car and get a look around we were already heading into the backroads to get to Grandpa’s house.

Grandpa’s house was farther into the plains than expected, but still only a good fifteen to twenty minute drive away from town. Before Mom could ever fully park the car, I had already jumped out and was looking around the property. Michael pulled his bike up next to Mom’s car, and they all took a good few seconds to look around at all the wood carvings and chimes before turning their vehicles off. I took note of the horses grazing in one of the back fields before walking around the front of the truck and seeing a man laying on his back across the front porch steps.

Sam lead the way towards him before Mom cut in front and marched up the steps to squat beside him. “Dad?” She questioned gently. “Dad?” The three of us leaned closer to get a better look.

“Looks like he’s dead.” Michael remarked.

“Like... really dead.” I quipped in, raising an eyebrow at Mom.

“No, no. He’s just a deep sleeper.” She brushed our comments off.

“If he’s dead can we go back to Phoenix?” Sam remarked, earning a snort from me and a sharp look from Mom.

Suddenly Grandpa sat up, a cocky smirk apparent on his face. “Playing dead. And from what I hear, doing a damn good job of it.”

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation before Mom laughed faintly. “Oh, Dad!”

That night, Mom decided that it would be good for the four of us to leave the house after a night of unpacking and explore the boardwalk when it’s at its liveliest. I could admit it looked much more enjoyable now that it was dark and a little chilly, the sweaty people that had been occupying it earlier were now less sweaty and more stoned.

Almost as soon as Mom’s car and Michael’s bike were parked, Mom sent us off on our own so she could spend some time staking out a job in one of the family-owned shops. “Do you think she’ll be able to find one?” Sam questioned as the three of us weaved through crowds, trying to find our way to the beach concert. We could certainly hear it, we were just having a bit of trouble actually getting to it.

“One what? A job?” Michael scoffed as if it was hard to believe, still bitter over the fact there was no legal jobs for him to get hired in.

I laughed, elbowing him softly in the side, knowing that this place was exactly his vibe and in time he would most likely come to love living here. Sam was the only one I was actually worried about. “She’ll probably be able to find one. What, with all these missing people, there’s bound to be tons of job openings.”

“You’re telling me. It’s like there’s hundreds of bullet-boards around every corner with dozens of people missing. This place really is the Murder Capital.” Michael remarked as the concert finally came into our line of sight.

“Don’t say that!” Sam pleaded, shoving Michael’s shoulder with his eyebrows knitted tightly.

Michael just held his hand up in surrender and with one last shrug of his shoulders he turned to me. “You checking out the shops? We’ll find you once we get bored.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I agreed, turning sharply on my heel and blindly making my way back into the crowd. The concert was loud, sweaty, and crowded, and it wasn’t even my style of music - the last thing I wanted to do was spend my first night there. I figured it would be much more productive if I were to check out all the shops and stands running up and down the entire area, maybe find some new pieces of jewelry, or even a possible summer job opportunity.

Many places caught my eye, and I made a mental note to check them out the next time I had free money to spend, as it wouldn’t be wise for me to make an impulse-buy when I’m so close to being completely broke. Instead a small stand in the middle of the walkway drew me to it. A piercing stand. One person working on someone already sitting on the chair. There was a large wall selection of different studs, and many different kinds of disinfectants lined along the counter.

I walked closer to the wall, admiring all the different designs they had. I’d absolutely love to get a helix or orbital piercing, but I knew it wasn’t the wisest to spend money doing something like that at a small stand on a boardwalk in Santa Carla of all places. I was suddenly broken out of my thoughts when a voice spoke up directly behind me.

“It’s a scam, you know.” I jumped, hand flying to my chest, and whipping around to look at the owner. A teenage boy, my age, maybe a little older, with long curly blond hair and a grin that could have probably wooed me into his bed by the end of the night had he not literally just scared the shit out of me.

I laughed breathlessly, shaking my head. “What is?”

“The piercings. If you need one done, I could do it for you. But they use the guns instead of a needle which will definitely infect if you’re planning on doing a cartilage one.” He explained with a tilt of his head as he turned and began making his way towards the restaurants. I took that as an invite to follow, jogging to catch up and walking next to him.

“You know a lot about piercings?” I tried to make small talk, not wanting him to get away just yet.

He nodded with a confident smirk. “I did my own, and my friends. Someone had to learn.” I laughed a little at his mock-annoyed tone and shoved my hands into my pockets to appear to be doing something. He suddenly stopped and turned to me, holding out his hand. “Marko, by the way.”

“Ivory.” I accepted his hand and we both shook, hard and firm.

“You’re new.” He nodded as if finally understanding something that had been going on inside his own head. “I would’ve noticed you before if you’d been here all along.”

We dropped each other’s hand and I gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean by that?”

He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Nothing rude, you’re just too gorgeous to go unnoticed around here.” Before I could reply, another voice cut in from a few yards away.

“Marko! Marko, man, we’re supposed to meet David in ten!” I looked over to see another punk-looking dude calling out to Marko with his hands cupped around his mouth.

I laughed and look back towards the curly blond. “See you around?”

He nodded in confirmation, sending me one last crooked smile before turning to jog over to his other friend. I turned as well, making my way back into the crowd and away from the middle lane stands. I didn’t make it very far before the body of my youngest brother crashed into my side. I glanced down at him in bewilderment as we used each other to steady ourselves.

“Sam? Aren’t you supposed to be with Michael?” I laughed as he looked as though he’d just had the weirdest conversation of his life.

“Well, I was. Then he saw some girl at the concert and wandered after her so I went to check out the comic store.” He explained, shrugging before letting his eyes wander around once more in search of Michael. I rolled my eyes, of course Michael left Sam behind to go chase after some girl. It didn’t take long to find him, he was only a little further down the stretch of restaurants. He was more towards the end, walking out of the crowd near where the last building - a bar - sat in place.

We walked up behind him, and as soon as I was at his side I followed his eyes to a girl who was walking behind a small child, hand on his shoulder, and steering him in a certain direction. She was pretty - with big, curly hair and a beautiful smile that curled her lips up as her eyes grazed over all the lights of the carousel one last time for the night. I followed her line of sight, trying to place why Michael was following her instead of just walking up and introducing himself, but I immediately realized what the problem was.

She hoisted herself up onto the back of a motorcycle, accepting the help of the blond driver. He had a spiked mullet, dressed in all black, and when he realized Michael was staring at his girl, a cocky kind of smirk crossed his face. His friends parked next him all revved their engines to a start, and I tore my eyes from the platinum blond to see the others. I didn’t manage to catch a good look at two of them, because my eyes immediately looked onto those of the punk from earlier who’d started a conversation with me over pierced ears.

He was already looking at me, and when he realized my attention immediately locked onto him, a predatory look filled the black circles of his eyes and his lips formed into a boyish smirk directed exactly at me. He lifted his hand in a short wave, laughing along with the friend who called him away from me earlier as he shoved Marko’s shoulder in a teasing way. I lifted my hand in a small acknowledging wave back, but was knocked out of my small trance by Sam, who began teasing Michael.

“Come on, she stiffed ya!” Sam laughed harmlessly, gently punching Michael’s shoulder and turning to probably go and find Mom. I broke my gaze away from Marko immediately, turning to follow after Sam and not bothering to look back at all as I heard the bikes pull out and speed off down the road.

“Too bad she left with Mr. Mullet, she was pretty.” I tried to break the tension with Michael, I really didn’t want him to be upset over the lose of the girl, he still had all of Santa Carla’s teenage population of girls to meet.

He cracked a smile and nudged his shoulder into mine. “She really was.”

Once we made it home for the night, I separated from both my brothers and made my way into my own room. It was the smallest of all of ours, but that’s the main reason why I had chose it. It was cozy, and cute. I liked the way it came out once I had finished decorating it.

I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to those boys on the motorcycles from earlier that night. Marko seemed nice enough, even if I didn’t know whether or not I was brave enough to try to pursue a friendship with his more than intimidating friends. Just as I came to the conclusion that I should just get over myself and approach them, a sharp sting of anxiety wedged itself into my gut and nauseous filled my stomach and rose up in my throat. No. I didn’t need to become friends with those boys, there was something off, something I didn’t need to meddle in.

If I saw them again, I’d avoid eye contact and conversation completely. I was never able to understand my anxiety, but I always listened to it when it struck me.

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alixdelcourt · 3 years

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Maybe other ones opinions matter more to you than ours

Pairing Katsuki Bakugou x female reader x Eijirou Kirishima

Genre : angst to fluff and comfort at the end.

WC and warnings : 1.5 k / Polyrelationship, Angst, feeling down, abandon, injury, mention of hospital and sedative. Please be careful reading this, and skip it if you're insecure or sensitive, you'll just get hurt. Please be careful.

Note : Hey everyone, I am back ! I am sorry, I wasn't on hiatus so I didn't warned you, I was just sick and trying to recover. And now that I am totally healed, I promise that I'll catch all your requests up quickly ! Today's work is @d3nk1x's request. I am sorry it took my like forever to achieve it, really sorry. I hope that you’ll like it, please let me know, and feel free to ask anything else. I kinda like your requests :)

Requests are still open, and since my college year is over, I am totally free to write whenever I want. And I am bored a bit, so please send many requests if you want, I will be happy to oblige !

The heart has its reasons which Reason knows nothing of… What was sure is that you loved them, from the bottom of your heart. But it wasn’t enough for you to be completely at ease with the relationship that you, Eijirou and Katsuki are entertaining. Well, such relations aren’t usual and you prefer to keep it for you. What would it be if people, even your friends, discover this part of your intimacy and feel free to criticize, or worse to judge you and to deprecate it… Would your ‘couple’ survive all of this ? You prefer not to take the risk. A happy life is a discreet one.

But, your significant others are not on the same page. Like, for the boys, you’re all adults and old enough to make your own choices. You chose them, you brought them together, so why couldn’t you assume this decision ? Why three people in love would be so odd ? This subject was the only point of contention for you, that comes up more and more often. Like tonight.

The three of you were in Katsuki’s room, for the usual nightly cuddles. To have some affection before going to sleep, each one in his own dorm room. For the other students not to notice, Eijirou is the first to leave, and after a couple of minutes, you follow him. But tonight, the guys made a big deal out of it. You argue, explaining again for like the thousandth time your position.

“I just… I just don’t feel comfortable with people knowing that I am in love with two guys. Maybe it’s okay for you to share the same girlfriend, but this isn’t was girls do.”

“And who cares about other girls ? They just don't know what they are missing !”

Eijirou winked at you, trying to make you laugh and give it all up as a joke, but you weren’t laughing. He sighed, and let your mutual boyfriend try. And he did. Like Katsuki really tried. He took your hand, and made you look at his crimson stare.

“Please, Y/n. Let us love you in full view of everyone. I am tired, we’re both tired of paying attention to our reactions around you. We just want to give you all the attention you deserve and the love you generate at any time, not bottling it up or botch it between two training sessions. I don’t want to hide anymore, because this means we’re doing something wrong. And we’re not. So please.”

He’s meaning what he’s saying, and you know it. Katsuki Bakugou ain’t one to beg, for anything. But even if this was the sweetest and the most romantic thing he has ever told you, you can’t overcome your fear. Which deeply hurt the boys in front of you. The ash blond haired released your hand.

“Maybe other ones opinions matter more to you than ours”

Usually, when he’s this rude, Eijirou stands up for you, but today he’s way too hurt and he agrees with Katsuki. Too many words jostle on your tongue, but none were sufficient for you to express how you’re feeling. With obvious teary eyes, you stand up and leave quickly before bursting in cries. You try to convince yourself that you’re feeling this way because they’ve been harsh on you, pressuring you like this, but you can’t fool yourself. Nothing hurts like the truth.

But you made it. You managed to sleep, and in the morning, you decide that you’re moving forward and as usual, leave the situation as it is. But you quickly notice that it’s not the case for Eijirou and Katsuki. When you went for breakfast, they were already done and heading to their own classes. Usually, you have your have your meals together and they accompany you before going about their business. Usually, Katsuki cooks in the morning, and you make the boys tea. Usually, Eijirou takes all of the bags on his shoulders because it’s manlier and ‘every little training helps’. But today was nothing like usual. You tried to avoid your paranoia during the whole morning, but you couldn’t anymore at lunch. They literally rejected you. In front of everyone. Maybe you finally ruined everything by yourself.

When you arrived to the cafeteria, you decided to wait for them before realizing that they weren’t late, but they didn’t wait for you. They were already eating with some classmates. Sero noticed you, lining up alone for your lunch and staring, with a troubled expression on your face.

“Why isn’t Y/n with you today ? The three of you are always together… Something happened ?”

“She decided that our company is no satisfying enough for her. We would not want to force her.”

You weren’t that far from them, and Eijirou’s hard words were sharp and loud enough to reach your ears. He said it that loud on purpose.

“I thought that you and her had a thing… Aren’t the two dating or something like this ?”

Katsuki growled at Denki’s curiosity.

“None of your business, you dumbass”

“I was asking Eijirou ! Of course, no one would date your rude ass”

“He’s right, Denki. Our love life is none of your business”.

No one could possibly ask anything after this, even if they took each other’s hand. They ain’t persons to take criticism. They just proved you that you can’t cut off people’s curiosity. You’re just not strong enough. So you ate alone, and reached the afternoon training late, sorrowed and unmotivated.

Since your two regular partners for training were sulking you, you paired up with Midoriya, who needed help for his frontal attacks. You were strong enough to repulse him sometimes, by putting all your frustration into your fight, and you were agile enough to avoid him when he was too strong. It wasn’t like your usual trainings, but it was instructive in that you were learning new things. And suddenly, just when your sadness has eased a little thanks to work, everything went so fast that you couldn’t understand. First, your eyes caught a familiar vision. Second, your turned your head to see that Katsuki was proudly and fiercely kissing a blushing Eijirou, that wasn’t ashamed to kiss him back. Third, your eyes went wide open, and your mouth in awe.

“… - SMASH !”

Fourth, everything faded away.

Before you open your eyes, you can tell that you’re in a hospital. The smell of disinfectant and the beeping of machines weren’t misleading. And when you opened your eyes, The memories came along with the severe pain. You remember… Izuku, Eijirou, Katsuki… Recovery girl… The hero trainer… The ambulance… The injury, the pain and the cries… The sedative… And then nothing. You got injured during the training, you weren’t paying attention and you received Izuku’s attack you were supposed to block or avoid with full force. If you were a villain, he would have neutralized you, which was the purpose of the training. He isn’t the one to blame, nor are the two who caught your attention. From the very beginning, you were the only culprit. And just when you were thinking of them, you heard Katsuki’s voice grunt behind the curtain that was surrounding your convalescence bed.

“We have to see her ! Oi listen you-”

“We’re in a hospital, quieter !”

“Please, doctor, let us see her. We are so worry, and we need to be by her side when she’ll wake up”

Eijirou’s pleading voice was trying to convince the relentless doctor.

“You’re not her family, I can’t allow you to do so. I am sorry, rules are rules.”

Someone, maybe Sero, intervened.

“C’mon, boys, there’s nothing to do but wait…”

However, they didn’t give up. Kirishima begging and Bakugou threatening almost made you cry. You struggled a bit, but managed to talk with a husky voice.

“Please let them in. They are my boyfriends. Please…”

The curtain was withdrawn in a hurry, and in a split second, the blond and the redhead were by your side.

“Y/N ! How are you feeling ! Is everything okay or are you-

“Don’t ever scare me like this again ! I might lose my mind if you ever-

They won’t let you get a word in edgeways, checking on you and their concerned eyes scanning you. You started crying.

“I am so sorry… I am so sorry that I was stupid enough to hurt you instead of overcoming my fear ! I don’t deserve you, I-”

Eijirou hushed to you, while carefully wrapping his arms around you.

“Shhhh… It’s okay now, sweetheart. We won’t talk about this now, and not anymore. Nothing is more important than seeing you happy and smiling…”

“Besides, all those who were waiting heard you… I am sorry…”

“What a plot twist ! Seriously, don’t be… I am not afraid anymore. Today was horrible, and I got more hurt by the truth then Izuku’s hit. I am not letting anything between us again. I love you, and nothing will stop me from doing so”

Katsuki took your hand in his, squeezing it against his heart and peppering it with kisses. Words aren’t for him, so he lets you know his gratitude in other ways. With a kiss on your forehead, Eijirou concludes.

“If it took you approaching death to realize it, you're more of a dumbass that he calls you so”

__________________________________________

Here is ! Please let me know if you liked it or not, and if you did like it, feel free to share so other people could enjoy it as well :)

@d3nk1x @i-heart-fictional-boys @skywalkerstyles (from which I drew inspiration for the polyrelationship, I totally love your work) @katsukichu @kirislilrock

Maybe I’ll try a real taglist… I just need to figure out how does it work…

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Note

I would like a request for Steve Demon, something very dark and hot, thank you! 😈❤️

Hi darling! Thank you for your patience 🙏💖 This story was inspired by Slavic witch legends and VN Demonheart!

Oh, my love, don't forsake me

Pairing: demon!Steve Rogers x witch!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, dark magic, dubcon, witch!Nakia, mentions of violence.

Words: 1670.

___________________

You remembered your first encounter with him well. It had been your first Walpurgis Night when Nakia presented you to a coven: you had been taken through an initiation ritual to become a true witch, and all of you danced and drank and laughed, jumping through grand fire and burning your clothes till you all had been naked, only jewelry - necklaces, earrings and bracelets - left on your bodies.

It was then when demons had arrived, many of them flying directly to their witches and starting dancing with them, picking them up and letting them ride them high up in the sky as if they were horned horses, and you froze on your spot, watching their red bodies glowing.

"You will choose your demon lover today." Nakia whispered to you, smiling to her own mighty demon, his shoulders wide and muscular, his gaunt wings so large he could cover ten people with each. "There are several of those who are free."

"Today?" You asked her nervously, watching those demons without a witch on their backs. "But I thought I would be given time to let them know better."

You knew no one but Nakia, and the thought of choosing your demon right this very moment seemed a bit frightening to you. The witch was choosing her demon lover for eternity - unless both her and him would decide to separate, but it was highly unlikely as the bond they built had always been hard to break. How could you do it without knowing a demon first? Today you could make the worst mistake in your entire life - and afterlife, considering that your soul would travel back to Hell with your demon by your side.

"Don't fret over little things." The witch flashed you a wide smile, her flawless skin glowing softly in the dim light coming from the fire meters away from you. "You will be fine. Look at them! Who is the one you want the most?"

She motioned to the demons flying up in the air, their wings flapping, and you realized you could actually see what was beneath the loincloth of some of them, your face growing unbearably hot. How indecent! Why didn't they wear something more concealing?

"Because they are showing new witches what they got to offer." Your mentor laughed at your bemused expression, and you chuckled, thinking how you were standing naked in front of them with just a think golden necklace on, the only valuable jewelry you had. "Don't be shy, dear. Look, look at them! Ask me if you see someone attractive, and I will tell you everything I know."

Oh dear, it was probably the most embarrassing thing you had ever done, but you couldn't miss your only opportunity to know more about your future lover. Besides, you didn’t become a witch to spend your days caring about morals and decency, did you? You were going to sin till the very end of your life, and today could be a nice starting point. In the end, a physical body and all its parts were nothing to be ashamed of.

Watching several men, their skin scarlet, floating above the grand fire and laughing along the other couples, you tried focusing on those who you thought looked the strongest and sheepishly whispering to Nakia. You felt a little distressed her own lover had to wait for you, but the demon only grinned at you, baring his pearly white teeth, and bowed his head a little, visibly agreeing to wait longer. Maybe they weren’t all as scary as you imagined? You certainly hoped so, pointing to several demons and asking your mentor about them.

“This one? This is Tony, he’s a clever but vicious sort.”

“Aren’t they all?”

Turning her face to you, Nakia gently caressed your head as if you were her child. “No, darling. Not to us. But you are right, I doubt Tony would be the right choice for you. Maybe young Peter? It is his first Walpurgis Night, but he’s of age. Or Brock, that demon over there? Oh no, look at this ruthless barbarian...”

However, before you had time to look at the man she had pointing at, another demon suddenly crossed your way, and you stilled when he looked directly at you, his large crimson wings blocking the view for both Nakia and you. He stood out from the crowd with his glowing golden hair and immense wings that were bigger than even Nakia’s lover, and you frown when the demon landed on his goat hooves, aggressively ripping his loincloth away and baring his flesh in front of you. Your face grew hot at his shameless display, and searched for your mentor’s hand, clutching it in yours like a child, truly. What was that? Did you make the demon upset? Had you broken some rule you didn’t know about?

Nervously glancing at Nakia’s lover you saw him distressed, too, but he didn’t move further to protect you, standing on his place. Was it because there was no true danger or because he simply couldn’t protect his witch against the monster in front of you?

“Who is he?” Your whisper was barely audible as you trembled, clinging to Nakia, and she wrapped her warm arm around your shoulders, leaning closer to your ear.

“Steven of Triskelion. Do not be scared, my darling, he isn’t here to hurt you. I wonder why he’s courting you so... passionately, though.”

“Courting me?”

“Oh yes, my dear. Look at him, putting himself on display like that for a young witch. His desire for you must be strong.”

Softly waving at her lover and seeing him relaxing, Nakia gently pushed you in front, encouraging you to come closer to the demon whose gaze was so intense you were worried he would make a hole in you. Oh, you needed to talk to him. Probably. You weren’t sure, but by the look on the witch’s face you guessed the demon in front of you wasn’t necessarily a bad choice. Judging by his enormous form and his thick, veiny cock in between his muscled legs, maybe he really weren’t.

Suddenly feeling very self-conscious in front of him, you tried smiling and prevent yourself from covering your body with your hands - he had just shown himself completely naked to you, and it would be disrespectful of you to do otherwise. You certainly didn’t want to upset a demon like him.

“Hello, Sir. It is a pleasure to meet you.” You said politely, hoping he wouldn’t mind the way you talked to him. Should you bow to him? Offer him your hand? Kiss his cheek? No, no, you wouldn’t dare.

For a second you thought he was going to hit you, but you knew a demon would never do that to a witch, especially with a whole coven present. They’d ban him from ever pairing with any of them, stripping him of a possibly ally and lover. Only the most insane demons would try doing something as reckless and disrespectful, but they weren’t allowed to Walpurgis Night celebrations. Thank... Devil?

The demon suddenly chuckled, baring his sharp fangs, “You don’t have to be so polite with me, little witch. I am sorry for intimidating you for it was not my intention. Come closer.”

Liar! He loved the effect he had on you, you didn’t have to get inside his horned head to see it. Was he of patronizing kind? Maybe. It wasn’t the worst one among demons straight from Hell, and you smiled at him, putting your arm in his as he drew you closer to him, his other arm softly cupping your chin. His crimson body was radiating heat, and you enjoyed it when demon made you lean onto his wide chest. Despite being somewhat shy about the whole encounter, you were starting to warming up, demon’s touch having a strange effect on you.

“Allow me to give you this.” The man murmured into your ear, and you felt the heaviness of a string of pearls on your neck, touching it with your fingers and watching the demon with wide eyes.

Of course, you have heard of witches receiving gifts from their demonic lovers, but Steve was still a stranger to you. Was it right to accept something so expensive from him? While you tried looking for Nakia to ask her advice, the demon wrapped his large gaunt wings around you two, preventing you from searching for your friend, and forcefully turned your face to him, claiming your lips as if he wanted to devour you. You had no time to react before his huge tongue got inside your mouth, his clawed hand running up your rib cage and cupping your breasts as you whimpered against him, his body blazing hot. He didn’t give you a second to get accustomed to the kiss before spreading his wings and flapping them as he unceremoniously grabbed you by the hips and flew up, taking you with him. You let out a little mewl, clinging to Steve for life. What was he doing?!

“Don’t be scared, kitten. I’m not asking you to ride on my back just yet.” The demon’s voice was soft, but you could see his grin getting wider, and a part of you was nervous at his somewhat aggressive courting. “But wouldn’t you like it? I can be a powerful ally for a witch and a gentle lover for an innocent kitten like you.”

“Be careful, dear. Steve became bitter after his witch has left him to return to God,” Nakia’s voice said in your head, and you frowned, knowing the demon most certainly heard her, too.

She left him for God? What, how was this even possible?

Demon’s grin turned wicked as he kissed your forehead, getting higher and higher as other demons and witches danced below you. “It’s true, darling. That’s why after you choose me to be your lover I will carve your heart out of your chest and keep it with me.”

_____________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #yandere #captain america #requests #mcu #mcu fanfiction

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zodiyack · 3 years

Text

Smile

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: Cuteness?, fluff, swearing, no proofreading

Words: 2,191

Summary: A cold winter’s night gives Tommy inspiration to go for the woman he desires. After all, what gentleman would let a lady walk home in the teeth chattering cold?

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @simonsbluee, @marquelapage, @stuckysslag, @darling-i-read-it, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @jenepleurepasbaby, @thewarriorprincessxo, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @fandom-puff

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

The woman who worked with his family, sitting at the front of the betting shop despite being someone who should never have to see what horrors the Shelbys have. She was the one Tommy dreamt of the few times he’d actually been able to sleep. His heart thundered as he passed her, waving a hand with a kind and welcoming smile, a genuine one at that. His family could tease him all they’d like, but Y/n L/n had stolen Thomas’ heart and he was perfectly fine with that.

However, he wasn’t the best at telling her so. He could talk to her just fine but telling her he fancied her... Y/n was far too innocent. Sure, she wasn’t literally innocent but he couldn’t bear to bring her into the shit-show disguised as “family-business”. The smile she returned to him every time he passed her only reminded him of that.

“Mr. Shelby? You-” His head perked up, expression of deep thought washing away at the sound of her soft voice. Oh, her beautiful voice. It serenaded him without either of the two even realizing it.

“Again, please Y/n, call me Tommy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he let out a small chuckle, “I promise. Now, what about me?”

“Um... Oh! Yes! You have a visitor. I assume it’s about some Peaky Business so I told them I’d get you.”

Tommy nodded. “Thank you, Y/n.” His eyes had been fixated on her long enough to notice more about her appearance than he had a The pink on the tip of her nose, the slightest hue of blue on her lips. “Y/n...come here please.”

“Alright...” She did as she was told. A small nervous feeling bounced around in her gut, alarm bells ringing. Tommy was hard to read, but the request scared her more. Ada was the one who got her the job, Tommy was the one who let her keep the job. Was he having second thoughts?

Before another worrying thought could make its way to her head, Tommy swung his coat over Y/n’s shoulders. A little sigh of relief, yet also a gasp of surprise, escaped Y/n’s lips as the coat began to envelope her in its warmth. Caught in the moment, her eyes flicked to Tommy’s, his to hers. They just stared. And yet, neither of them minded.

His face... It was like a Greek god, or an angel maybe? So imperfectly perfect.

That’s what he was.

She thought about his smile, not currently visible, but always on her mind. It looked so handsome, so charming, and, dare she say, pretty. His smile brought hers to her face. Even if it was hiding in the pits of the darkest, deepest, smallest hiding place on a bad day, his own called hers to the surface almost instantly.

The beautiful blue of Tommy’s orbs, like sapphires sparkling in the light that bounced off them or a mad ocean; the rage secretly a symphony as each wave crashed and washed away, a symphony only those who stopped to listen, actually listen, could hear. She had so many words and ways to describe the almost child-like look in his eyes, full of a hidden innocence ironically enough, but a knock at the door tore them away from her before they even reached her mouth.

“Mr. Shelby? If you and your...uh...friend are done here, I have some business to talk with you.” The man was impatient. Luckily, his scare drew an instant reaction from Y/n. She had hurriedly turned around to face the guest with a flushed expression across her face the moment the door swung open. With her attention elsewhere, she missed the wince the man elicited from Tommy when he called Y/n his “friend”.

“Yes. We’re done. Y/n, you may go back to your work now.” He excused her with the same lift of his lips he’d always given her, only this time, the corners of his mouth were a little higher, a little closer to his eyes. This was progress.

A thin sheet of snow, white as angel’s wings, cloaked Small Heath. The waters were slick with ice. The cold wrapped its arms round Birmingham, Mother Nature hoping to warm her children and herself regardless of her cold skin. It nipped at the tips of noses like she was booping her finger against them in attempt to draw a smile from her shivering children.

Tommy cursed to himself. It felt so much colder than it did at the start of the day- one person on his mind upon the realization. Y/n had left a little prior to Thomas, just like she did every other day. Her reddened nose, her trembling lips as her teeth subtly and silently chattered, her fragile form even more so with her arms wrapped around her and Tommy’s coat in attempt to gain warmth. The images never seemed to leave his brain, especially not when she returned his coat.

He began to walk home, still focused on Y/n. Pondering up a variety of situations, good and bad, he tried to reassure himself. Constant anxiety was not new for Tommy. He worried for his family, for his friends- for Y/n... Too much was on his mind but he couldn’t seem to shake any of it off.

Although he was looking straight ahead- looking where he was going, he wasn’t entirely paying attention. A grunt slipped from his throat as he walked into someone, knocking them over and causing him to stumble. Normally, he’d just tell them to watch it, but as he regained focus on what’s in front of him rather than what’s been bothering him, he paused.

She too was surprised, having literally been knocked off her feet by none other than Thomas fucking Shelby. Her head jerked upwards to see who had walked into her, a similar intensity as Tommy’s. But she softened as well, untensing when his face, those baby blue gems, came into her view. He looked so puzzled, so...guilty.

“Fuck!” He was quick to drop the ground and help her up, checking her for any form of injury. “Are you alright, Y/n?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Are you alright? You look frightened-”

“I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings, I must’ve walked right into you. You know I didn’t mean for that to happen, love? It was purely on accident. Is there any way I can make it up to you? Anything at all?”

“Tommy. It’s alright.” The way she said his name was comforting. Her voice was soothing as usual. Her hand came to his upper arm, a relaxed and friendly grip. She gave him a squeeze, letting him know she meant it, that she was serious. “But, before I answer your second question, please, answer mine.”

Thomas was ready to ignore her, lips already parting to ask her again, but the sincerity of her concerned demeanor crumbled the facade he’d put up. He released a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’m just- ...worried.” It took a lot for him to admit some things, but the feeling of relief that surged through him after he told her...it felt like she took the burden from his shoulders.

“About what?”

He looked around for a minute and then suddenly stopped. Now that he thought about it, they weren’t that far from his place. He looked back to her. Her form was just as cold as it was this morning, the color of her lips had darkened, likely from longer time in colder weather.

“How about this. You come with me, to my place, we warm you up, get you a cup of tea, and then I’ll tell you.”

“W-what? No, Tom, you don’t have to-” There it was again. His name. She was like a siren, luring Thomas Michael Shelby, the helpless sailor, his name entwined with her voice- her melody. Her form did not change, as it was her he desired most.

“No, I do. I’m the reason you were on the ground, I’m the reason you’re covered in snow, but I’ll be damned if I become the reason you freeze to death out here.”

“I won’t-”

“You live quite some distance away,” his final attempt, a pleading sigh to mark it as so, and he was determined to make it a strong one, “...at least let me drive you home.”

She looked to be in serious contemplation of his offer, biting her lip and rocking back in forth to collect some warmth from movement before she returned her eyes to his. “...Fine.”

“I’d still like to get you warmed up though, so you can’t turn me down about that, yeah?”

The air escaping her parted lips could just barely be seen. Huddled by the fire, wrapped in Tommy’s sheets with a mug in her hands resting close to her face, the sinister chill was retreating from her body. Tommy felt his heart speed as he watched her. It felt...right. It felt right to have her be safe and warm, just as it felt right to have her there, with him.

Though a number of feelings were checked as “right”, there was a rather large one that didn’t. There was a feeling that wasn’t right, that hadn’t been satiated. His feelings for her poked at him, urging him to kiss her, hug her, ask her, to do something! Anything!

“You going to tell me what was on your mind, or was that just a trick to get me to accept your ride home, Mr. Shelby?” The grin that was present on her lips could be practically be heard as she asked the question.

“Not a trick, I promise.” His chuckle brought a chortle to Y/n’s mouth. He walked to the fire, sitting beside her. “I’ll tell you. But first...you have to promise me something.”

“Yes, anything.”

“Promise me that you won’t go spreading my business where it doesn’t need to be.” He took a deep inhale, exhaling it as he prepared to speak his next request involving her reaction. “And promise me this won’t affect our relationship.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “...I-... I promise, but, ...I don’t understand how it could make a change between us?”

“It just...” He lifted his hands, scanning his brain for the right words. His hands dropped, making a small sound as they hit his thighs, the sound hidden only slightly by his sigh. “It just can.”

“How so? I mean, surely it’s-”

“I was worried about you.”

“O-oh? Thank you, that’s very-” She didn’t understand. But how could he blame her with her lack of context?

“No. I was worried about you because I seem...” a pause to get it out. “I seem to have fallen in love with you.” He looked into the fire with an intensity. He looked at it as if looking at her would make him crumble on the spot. The moments passing by without any response from her made the fire so much more entertaining. Tommy Shelby couldn’t be scared by much, he’d already been through war, but this? It scared him.

A part of him wanted to look at her, see the reaction just in case it was just a lack of verbal response...but another part didn’t want to face the disappointment. Y/n was a nice woman and Tommy could never bring himself to hate her. Losing her would be hard, but seeing her at work would be harder. Tearing her from the job she cherished would be harder. He couldn’t do that to her.

Luckily, “Your eyes are so pretty...” he didn’t have to. “Your eyes, your smile- everything about you has the stars jealous of its beauty. Personally, I wondered if our lips would meet. Today, in your office. It took everything in me not to surge forward, taste your lips on mine.” She snickered lightly, “Excuse my bluntness.”

“I like your bluntness. I only wish I’d been gifted with it.” He joined in, turning to face her, finally. He took a moment to admire the way her features looked in the orangey light from the fire. His eyes, observing her face with great interest, traveled to her lips before flicking back up to hers.

“Is that so?... Well, Tommy, now’s a good time to be blunt.”

“Pardon?”

She’d seen it. Fixated, just like him, on his eyes, specifically. “If you want to kiss me, just say so.” She’d caught him, easily with how entranced they both were.

He thought to himself. What’s blunter than saying he wanted to kiss her?

It happened in one swift motion. One second she was giving him a smug quirk of her brow, the next, her lips her locked with his. They pulled away, slowly and hesitatingly. “That was...as blunt as I could be.”

A laugh erupted from her. The sound sweeter than the songbirds. Then, Tommy smiled. Even if he wouldn’t be her target, in a boat on a restless sea, he knew, without a single doubt, that he’d go to her willingly. In fact, he did. And upon reaching the siren, perched on a sturdy ledge-like-rock, he realized she meant no harm. Tommy smiled. The smile reached his eyes.

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

Fuck Misogyny

request: Bucky uses his newly gained knowledge of feminism to squash misogynistic interview questions. @ptrs-prkrs

warnings: language, creepy men, feminist!bucky

a/n: hey babes!! i hope this lived up to what you wanted! i couldn’t find the exact video you were referencing but i know what you’re talking about, so i drew inspiration from a few others.

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

full m.list

The set up was simple. A long row of fold out tables covered in black fabric, microphones in front of each seat. Black papers were taped to the backs of the microphones with each team member's name. Bucky had told Evie that he wasn’t going to be able to work out with her today because of this so it better be worth it. The PR manager for the team, Amanda, had set everything up. Hired the mediator, notified the press, everything. Ever since they announced that they were going to be hosting an Avenger’s Q&A Panel, the internet quite literally broke.

Of course Bucky had been doing lives on TikTok with the group of five for the past couple of weeks now, so he was becoming quite comfortable in this format. He’s become increasingly active on his social media accounts, gaining more and more followers everyday. Granted, there were still haters, as Freddie called them, but Bucky ignored them for the most part.

Bucky was actually excited for this press meeting. He was finally gaining traction in the media and he knew how to correctly answer their questions. As Amanda had explained, there was going to be several questions from the mediator, tons from the press that they had invited, and then some fan questions as well. They apparently were going to be live streaming the conference on YouTube allowing them to read the comments and questions as it went on.

“Okay, everyone. You have two minutes until we start.” The team was in an empty board room in the Hilton hotel. Tony didn’t want everyone on the compound’s grass because he just had it fixed. Bucky scanned his fellow teammates. It was impossible for everyone to dress for the same event. Steve was wearing a shirt that was almost bursting at the seams with a pair of jeans and sneakers.

Tony was wearing a lovely Tom Ford, three piece, two-button, of course. Natasha and Wanda were wearing ripped jeans and casual tops. Vision was wearing a sweater vest and slacks, Bruce was clad in slacks as well a jacket covering his shoulders. Sam was wearing a button-up shirt and pressed jeans and he couldn’t find Clint anywhere, probably hiding in the rafters again.

Bucky had his iconic leather jacket donning his shoulders, a pair of slightly ripped jeans. His outfit was picked out by Cassie and Penny. “You need to look like you care but like you don’t at the same time.” Is what they said, the phrase made Bucky shake his head. His hair had finally started growing back and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it.

He had gotten help from Evie before he left Cassie’s apartment. She had pulled back the top half, braiding back two sections into the bun at the back of his head. There were pieces dangling in front of his eyes, “to accentuate the facial features, trust me they’ll love it.” Was Evie’s explanation as they pushed him out of the apartment, so he wouldn’t be late.

“Alright guys! They’re calling your names!” The team filed out of the board room and into a large ballroom. Bottles of water were placed beside each placemat. Tony went out first, followed by Steve, then Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Vision, Sam and ending with Bucky. They all settled into their seats, Bucky peeled his jacket off himself, placing it on the back of his chair. His black short sleeved shirt highlighted the gold inlays of his vibranium arm.

“Oh, I see we’re showing some muscle today huh, Buck?” Sam teased as Bucky took his seat next to him. Bucky groaned in realization, covering his microphone so it didn’t pick up what he planned to say.

“Good God, is this what it’s going to be like the entire panel? You just bugging the shit outta me?” They shared a laugh making the rest of the members look at the pair. The audience clapped as they were introduced and continued clapping as they assembled before them.

“Thank you. We would like to welcome everyone to the first, of hopefully many, Avenger’s Q&A Panel.” The female mediator, Stacey, read the assigned lines off the sheet on her podium. “We are going to start with questions we curated for the team and then open it up to the members of the press. After that we will turn to our live stream and answer some viewer questions.” The press rustled in their seats, pulling out pens and journals as well as their phones to record. “Okay, starting off with a question directed at the Avengers in general. How are you feeling about coming before the media in this type of format?” Glances were exchanged between the members, not sure on who was going to start.

“I feel that this is a great way for the general public to learn a little bit more about each individual team member.” Vision was the first to respond and Steve added on.

“Yeah, I definitely think that there’s a common misconception that we don’t want to engage with the media or the general public. We do, unfortunately due to the amount of research and training that we are doing behind the scenes, it just goes to the back of our minds.”

“Right. So Tony and Bruce, we all know that you two are geniuses. What are your feelings on expanding the teachings of STEM courses to not only high school, but as far back as elementary school or even kindergarten?” The pair thought about the question before answering.

“Well, I definitely think that offering STEM-based classes at a younger age would be beneficial, especially if we were to allow the kids to continue to switch what they want to focus on.” Bruce started. “It’s incredibly anxiety-inducing for teenagers to have to decide what they’re going to do with their life right before they are thrust into an unforgiving world.”

“Yeah, I’ll never understand why we do that to our future leaders, it’s honestly baffling. Why do American schools wait until high school to require our children to learn foriegn languages, they aren’t going to retain that information. The same applies for such comprehensive courses like STEM-based ones. If you wait until their brains are already developed so far, then they’ve already decided what they think is interesting and if they don’t find those courses interesting then they aren’t going to pay attention.” Tony finished Bruce's thought before nodding to each other smugly, obviously proud of themselves for answering the question so well.

“Interesting that you see it that way. This last one goes out to everyone and then we’ll open it up to the reporters. How do you deal with the stress and anxiety that comes with being an Avenger? Do you feel a certain amount of pressure to always do the right thing?” Stacey shuffled her papers, tapping them twice on the podium.

“We all have our own routines and ways that we decompress after missions so that really just depends on the person. Like I think that Bruce listens to opera music, and Wanda mediatates, Tony tinkers. It depends on the person.” Natasha answered concisely, making Bucky nod his head. He could recall all of those things to be true.

“Oh definitely, and it doesn’t hurt that we have a former VA Trauma Counselor on board to help us work through the harder stuff.” Steve added a gesture of his head to Sam.

“Speaking of that Sam, just a quick question before we open it up. How difficult was it for you to transition from regular Air Force missions to Avenger level missions?” Sam made a face at Stacey before answering.

“Um, I mean, it’s not that different. You’re always fighting one of the Big Three-- aliens, androids, or wizards, no matter what department you’re working with. The only transition I had to deal with was the Tony Stark-erized suits. Now that I think of it, Tony, can we make it tighter?” Sam quipped making the room laugh with ease.

“Alright, well now we’re going to open it up to the reporters. Starting with this gentleman in the front and then if we could also give a microphone to someone on that side of the room. Okay, thank you.” The first reporter stood up, holding the microphone in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Hello. John from Huffington Post. The Avengers inspire almost everyone around the world, so we would like to know who inspires you? Who do you look up to in terms of your idols?” He sat back down as the team contemplated their answers.

“Gandhi.” Bruce said, Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at him then added. “Pepper, she’s so amazing.” Steve looked down to Bucky, who shrugged.

“I would probably have to say that my sister, Sarah, inspires me. She raised her two sons, Cas and AJ, by herself after the Blip and was able to keep the family business going.” Sam’s answer made Bucky smile. Sam had brought him to their house in Delacroix, he remembered waking up to Cas and AJ playing in the kitchen, happy giggles filtering through reminding him of his time in Wakanda. By the time that Bucky had refocused on the conversation they had moved on without his answer. Several different questions went by, all directed to the team at large, until Chad.

“Hi, I’m Chad for the Daily Mail. My question is for Wanda and Natasha.” The pair of women perked up, excited to have a specific question. “Do you find that your equipment hinders you in doing your job as well as your male counterparts?” Stunned expressions settled over the womens faces, then annoyance. Bucky’s brows shot up to his hairline, appalled that someone had the balls to ask that. Wanda and Natasha handled the question with grace and much more restraint than Bucky would have.

“Well for me, I am able to move things with my mind so I can throw things randomly at people even if I’m not in the room. I’ve been very fortunate to work with Natasha who has Widow training, so my hand to hand combat is improving immensely. And being able to work with Princess Shuri in Wakanda to learn how to fully control my powers. It’s an ever evolving process that I’m always excited to take on.” Bucky nodded and turned his attention to Natasha.

“My favorite thing is training with either Steve or Bucky because they push me to do my best. We all have our specialties here and it’s nice to learn new skills or improve old ones with people who support you.” Natasha sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, throwing daggers with her eyes at Chad in the audience, waiting for him to say something else. Chad stood again, yelling so he could be heard over the crowd’s commotion.

“That’s great, ladies, but forgive me, you didn’t answer the question I asked.” Bucky pushed forward in his seat, leaning into his microphone.

“I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood what you asked them then. I would like for you to clarify what you mean by equipment.” Chad balked, not expecting a male’s voice to respond.

“You know what’s implied by equipment, sir.” Bucky’s jaw clenched at the man.

“Did you just ask two of the most capable women that I’ve ever known, if their equipment, which I’m assuming you’re referring their breasts, made it to where they couldn’t do their job as good as the rest of their male counterparts. Just to be clear, that’s what you’re asking?” Chad stuttered as he answered yes.

“Right, well first off that’s disgusting. Just a bit of background for you, Wanda is the strongest Avenger here, plain and simple. As for Natasha, she’s the smartest woman I’ve ever met and she can take down every single male here.” Bucky took a breath before continuing. “So, what I think you really want to know is how they encourage their teammates to keep up with them.” He dropped his head to look at the two women down the line.

“Don’t worry Chad, I’ll ask them the right question, since you can’t quite seem to understand how to respect women.” The team was holding back snickers at Chad’s reaction. “Wanda, Natasha. Chad wants to know how the hell you push your male teammates to be just as good as you are. What are your strategies to keep us on our toes while training?” Claps sounded from the women press members and Bucky awaited the pair's response. The next press member stood and asked a question.

“Hi, I’m Chloe from Vanity Fair. This question goes to everyone on the panel.” Bucky settled in for another question that didn’t matter. “How do you continue to be aware of things happening in our society today? Do you keep up-to-date through new channels, or social media?” The answers were rather generic from the team, all of them rather uncomfortable from the tension that Bucky and Chad had created. Stacey interrupted after Chloe’s question.

“Okay, we’re going to open it up to viewer questions from our live stream.” An iPad was placed on the podium in front of Stacey and her eyebrows rose. “Okay, there’s quite a variety here. Here’s one for Steve and Bucky.” Bucky perked up, nervous to answer because his adrenaline had worn off.

“One viewer asks, ‘Steve and Bucky, being from the 40’s, women were treated like second thoughts and were talked about like objects. Now, you’re in the 21st century, not much has changed. What have you been doing to support feminist causes?’”

“I just want to say that everyone should be answering this. It’s true that during the 40’s women were not treated the right way, and they still aren’t today. An 18 year old can’t walk down the street at nine o’clock at night without being catcalled. I am a proud feminist, as everyone should be. I think that as a team we are doing pretty well in that department. As far as what I’m doing to support feminist causes, I’m doing as much as I can. I actually recently enrolled in online classes to expand my knowledge on many subjects, seeing as how I am from the 40’s and all.” The crowd laughed along with Bucky.

“Almost all of my classes have to do with either psychology or gender studies, it’s a fascinatingly haunting subject. One book that I’m reading right now was suggested to me by my friend Cassie, it’s called Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women that a Movement Forgot. The author doesn’t let up and I’m only halfway through it. Look, I’m still educating myself, but I’m a strong believer in doing what is right for everyone, so I’m trying. Thankfully I have a few people keeping me in check as far as my actions.” Bucky thought his response was well thought out for being an on the fly question. He was new to the concept of feminism but that didn’t change the fact that it made total sense.

“I’m with Bucky on this. The 40’s were a rough time. I remember the first time I met Peggy Carter, I was astonished that a woman could be in such a powerful position. One of the first things she did after I met her was punch out someone who made a sexual comment to her. I’ve been supporting feminist causes ever since working with Peggy.” Steve added, a sad smile spreading on his face reminiscing Peggy.

“This one says, ‘As a total fan of all of you, I love seeing what you post on your social media accounts. When are the rest of the Avengers going to follow Bucky’s lead and download TikTok?’” Bucky’s head flew back into a full body laugh. Tony shifted forward in his seat, pointing his finger at the laughing man down the table.

“I would just like to say he didn’t get that approved before doing it. However, it did go over really well, so we’ll consider it.” Wanda’s mouth rolled inwards, stifling her laughter.

“We’ll consider it, you’re such an old man. Most of us have TikTok already, we just don’t make content on it like Barnes over here.” Sam said, tossing his head in Bucky’s direction.

“I’ve got like three videos on there!” Bucky and Sam began bantering back and forth.

“Yeah and one of them is dancing to a Cardi B song! Who even showed you that? I thought you only like 40’s music?” Bucky made a face at the man.

“Uh, just because I didn’t like your suggestions for music doesn’t mean I don’t have taste. My Spotify playlist is filling out quite nicely, Wilson.” Bucky and Sam didn’t quit fighting from then on, just little jabs at each other under the table.

“Here’s a good one,” Stacey had a smile on her face, “Are you allies of the LGBTQ+ community?” Bucky responded quickly with no hesitation.

“Yes, many of my friends are members of the Alphabet Mafia. Why wouldn’t we be?” Wanda nodded at his question, laughing at his use of the phrase Alphabet Mafia.

“Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I’m dating a fucking android, I’d be pretty hypocrictal if I wasn’t an ally. Nat, Clint what about you?” Clint bobbed his head in response.

“Oh yeah. We all are, even the Star Spangled Man with a Plan.” Steve’s shoulders shook with laughter at Clint’s nickname for him. The team broke out into laughter, joining Steve. Stacey cleared her throat, commanding the attention of the room again.

“Alright, everybody! That’s it for today.” She glanced down at her papers. “We would like to thank everyone for coming out today and joining the Avengers Q&A Panel. At this time we are unaware, if we will be conducting another one of these, but the odds look good based on the response.” The team filed out of the ballroom and into the empty boardroom. Bucky was the last to get into the room and he was approached by Natasha and Wanda immediately. Wanda wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug.

“That was so sick, Bucky!” She stepped back and Natasha offered him a side hug as well. “Where’d you learn all that? And since when are you taking online classes?”

“That guy was being an asshole, he needed to be put in his place. I hope you guys didn’t feel like I overstepped or anything.” Bucky hung his arm over Wanda’s shoulder, leaning his weight on her. “And I started about two months ago. They’re going really well, I’m learning a lot and enjoying it surprisingly. It’s a good thing to do in my free time since I’m not always on missions.”

“I’m proud of you James, that was impressive.” Natasha complimented him, she wasn’t usually a woman of many words so that was a lot. Bucky smiled at her, nodding his head. His phone began buzzing in his back pocket, so he excused himself from their conversation. His screen displayed one of Evie’s senior pictures, signalling that she was calling him. He pushed the green button and brought the phone to his ear to answer her call.

“Hello?” She ignored his greeting with a squeal.

“Check your Twitter! Bucky, you’re trending! Here I’m putting you on speaker, we’re all here Buck!” Shuffling noises were heard through the speaker as Evie began reading the tweets to Bucky. Laughs from Cassie, Freddie and Penny could be heard behind Evie’s voice.

“Oh my gosh Eve! Just let the man get back to what he was doing!” Freddie yelled at an excited Evie, who retaliated with a scoff.

“Okay, okay! Just remember we have a movie night tomorrow! It’s Penny’s turn to pick so we don’t know what to expect.” Evie mumbled the last part into her phone speaker. Bucky heard the impact of a pillow hit Evie, causing her to grunt in pain. “Okay! We’ll talk to you later, Buck! See you soon!” She hung up the phone before he could get a word in edgewise. Bucky shook his head as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Amanda approached Bucky asking to speak with him privately.

“So we’re getting a flood of interview requests from networks and papers. We would like to start running with this. We’ll have to go over everything with our PR guy, Ryan, but it should work out. As long as you’re comfortable with all of this.” Bucky smiled and nodded, following after Amanda as she continued explaining what would happen going forward.

He was nervous, of course, but he could tell these nerves were coming from a place of excitement instead of fear, which was a new sensation for the man. It wasn’t unwelcome, it was the same as when he first started hanging out with Cassie, Penny, Freddie and Evie. It was the same when he went on his first mission with the team. Bucky was ready to tackle this next adventure, whatever it would entail.

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searedwood · 3 years

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30 Day Gay Journal Prompts

This is specifically designed for Pride Month and self celebration, but this can be for literally any other use. Except hate. No hate allowed.

Day 1- Write your preferred name(s), pronouns, nice nouns (nouns you like to be referred to as), and bad nouns (nouns you don't like to be referred to as).

Day 2- Record your triggers, from really bad to not as bad to getting over it. Add any specifications or notes if you feel like you need them. This is so you can identify what makes you uncomfortable or panicked, which will help you be able to identify and avoid a situation in which you may feel threatened, uncomfortable, or panicked.

Day 3- Make a list of signs that you are having a panic attack. This will help you be able to communicate to close friends or family members what may happen in an event you become panicked. This will also help you identify when you're having a panic attack, which will help you be able to calm down. Additionally, record some ways that will help stop the panic attack. For me, some ways of calming down are to go outside, my stuffie, breathing and grounding exercises, comfort music, and puns or jokes.

Day 4- Take some time and think about what makes you happy and relaxed. Write down your comfort music, comfort videos, and comfort characters. If you have a comfort game or movie, include that as well. This is to help you identify a source of calm, relaxation, and happiness that you can easily fall back on if you are uncomfortable or scared.

Day 5- Do some research on LGBTQIA+ labels, flags, and symbols. Write down your gender identity and what it means for you. Write down your sexual and romantic orientations as well, and what they mean for you. Additionally, draw little Pride Flags and symbols beside each label. I drew the genderfaunet flag on the inside cover of my journal, along with corresponding flowers that represent what I see in my identity, as well as what I hope to integrate into myself (Snowdrop - rebirth, Chrysanthemum - truth, Rose leaves - hope, Lilacs - growth/progress, Yarrow - healing, and Narcissus - self love)

Day 6- Write down the titles of your favorite LGBTQIA+ books, movies, TV shows, and games, or titles you want to see/read/play. Do a little digging and find out what titles sound interesting. Supporting LGBTQIA+ creators is a wonderful way to celebrate Pride.

Day 7- Journaling doesn't have to be just writing. Try drawing some LGBTQIA+ inspired art, whether it's just a few doodles, a flag or two, or a beautiful painting. Dedicate this entry to expressing yourself and your identity in a way without words.

Day 8- Write gay poetry. You may not think yourself talented or particularly good at writing poems, but that doesn't mean you should keep yourself from doing it, even for a day. Poetry is a wonderful way to bend language to your will and express yourself in a way that only you have to understand. Write a poem expressing your experience in the LGBTQIA+ community, or a poem detailing your first gay crush. Whatever you feel on your heart today, put it into beautifully unique words.

Day 9- Write about the moment you realized you weren't straight or binary. Alternatively, write about the moment you learned what the LGBTQIA+ community was. Describe your feelings and thoughts in the moment, and reflect over how they have changed and evolved over time.

Day 10- Take a moment and think about where you would be if LGBTQIA+ rights have existed all along, without the need for reform laws or protests. Write down who you think you would be, how you would live, and how easy it would be to do things you can't right now. At the same time, think about the disadvantages. Consider the lack of a fight for freedom and how that may influence your opinion or thoughts.

Day 11- Write a letter to your younger self. Tell your younger self about who you are and who you've become. Give them words of encouragement about the journey ahead. Remind your younger self that no matter what happens, you turn out to be a wonderful and beautiful person.

Day 12- Write a letter to your older self. Detail your present experience as a member/ally of the LGBTQIA+ community. Present your ideas about where the community will be moving forward and how much progress society as a whole will make. Ask yourself some questions, like "How do you celebrate your identity?" Later in the future, you can come back to this letter and respond.

Day 13- Learn some phrases or words of Polari. Polari is a critically endangered language invented by young gay men living in Britain. It was also used by circus men and theatre kids. Few LGBTQIA+ people now know of the language, so there's no better time to try to revive it.

Day 14- Do some research on Pride history. Record interesting or important events that marked the history of the LGBTQIA+ community. What happened at the first Pride Parade? Who was the first advocate for gay and lesbian marriage? What was the LGBTQIA+ community like before it was acceptable to be openly queer?

Day 15- Write a letter to those that are anti-LGBTQIA+. Explain why queer rights are humans rights. Tell them that love is love. Or, if you're feeling like letting loose that anger, just tell them off. This letter is for your eyes only, so don't be afraid to get mean if it makes you feel better.

Day 16- Take a moment and think about how you wish to represent yourself. Do you want to wear skirts and dresses? Do you prefer baggy pants and a puffy jacket? Do you like wearing makeup? How do you style your hair? Record how you currently dress and look and how you wish you could dress and look. Write about how your wishes reflect your identity.

Day 17- Write some ways you can improve on the way you treat yourself. Are you hard on yourself because you just can't make the right grade? Do you obsess over how you don't fit in to your family's standards of gender and sexuality? Give yourself some love and think about how you can be nicer to yourself. Remind yourself that school grades aren't more important than your own needs. Remember that if you are in an unhealthy relationship with friends or family, it isn't your fault.

Day 18- Write about what really makes you feel like yourself. You know better than anyone what your authentic self is. So what is it? What makes you feel really... you?

Day 19- If someone described you, what would they say? This can be anything from physical appearance to personality. This can help you think about how you present yourself to others. Do you want more people to know exactly what gender you identify as? Do you not want people to know what pronouns you prefer?

Day 20- Do some research on neopronouns. If you don't use any, perhaps you'll find a set or three you feel comfortable with (if not, that's fine!) If you can't do your own research, try making up your own set! I sometimes feel semi-feminine, like just a little teaspoon of femininity, but I don't really like she/her pronouns. So, I made for myself a set that sounds similar but isn't quite there. Xe/Xer/Xers/Xerself. The 'x' is pronounced like the 's' in 'measure.' A good way to make sure you know how to use a set of neopronouns in a sentence is to use this example I got from pronouny: Today I went to the park with xer. Xe brought xer frisbee. At least, I think it was xers. By the end of the day, xe was throwing the frisbee to xerself.

Day 21- Have you heard the phrase "black sheep of the herd"? It refers to someone that doesn't really fit in to their social group. In what ways are you the black sheep? Is it because of your identity or orientation? How can you help others to see you aren't different and shouldn't be alienated? How can you encourage people to welcome LGBTQIA+ people to the herd?

Day 22- Imagine you are teaching a class of young children about LGBTQIA+, gender, and sexual/romantic orientations. What would you say? How would you encourage them to be open minded and to explore their own identities?

Day 23- With great Pride comes great hardships. There are many obstacles and difficulties when it comes to finding your true self and figuring out your identity and orientation. What hardships have you overcome? What have you learned from them?

Day 24- One of your friends comes to you about having questions about gender identity. They are questioning their own identity and seek your help and support. List some ways you would help your friend feel supported and loved while also helping them discover their identity.

Day 25- List three things you would do if you weren't afraid. (For me, these would easily be: attending Pride Parades, advocating for queer rights, and coming out)

Day 26- Take your favorite or least favorite LGBTQIA+ ship and rewrite a scene as if they were together, or list some of your favorite queer ships.

Day 27- Discover some gender-neutral terms for things like family members, romantic partners, or honorifics (Mister, Miss, Mx.). If you can't find any you find interesting or comfortable, try creating some of your own. My pibling (parent+sibling) calls me their nibling or nibkid (NB term for sibling's child).

Day 28- Have you ever wanted to write a story? Record an idea or two, or three or four, for LGBTQIA+ stories. They can be anything from lesbian princesses to a coming-of-age trans story. Maybe you'll end up planning out your best seller!

Day 29- Think about what rights aren't granted to LGBTQIA+ people. What are they? Do they directly affect you as well? How do these lack of rights make you feel? What can you do to help advocate for these rights?

Day 30- The last day of Pride Month doesn't mean it's the last day of acceptance and love. How can you spread Pride throughout the year? How can you keep and open mind and heart and advocate for LGBTQIA+ rights? Maybe set a list of goals for yourself, things you want to keep up through the year.

#queer pride #lgbt pride #gay pride #lesbian pride #asexual pride #nonbinary pride #pride #writing prompts #journal prompts #lgbtqia #lgbt #lgbt community #love is love #gay #gay journal #queer #self love #queer representation

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jawabear · 3 years

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Assistant to the boss (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: Okay. So. This story is Inspired by this post by @dindjarinscape I love it so much. I really enjoyed writing this because it’s Marcus and I love him. I really hope you enjoy the fluffiness. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: Fem!reader, mentions of anxiety, just a lot of fluff.

Summary: From friend to boss, her feelings have not changed, but is there any chance he feel the same way?

The coffee machine whirred and rattle as she stood there waiting for it to finish. You would think that working in a place that was such high-tech and with literal super heroes, there would be an easier, quicker, quieter way of making a cup of coffee. She guessed she could’ve done it by hand but she was too far in now to change her mind.

It finally beeped to signal it was done. She moved it from under the machines spout and lifted it into her hands. The bitter smell of it filled her nose making her cringe. She was not a lover of coffee and couldn’t understand why people loved it so much when it smelt and tasted how it did.

She picked up the small pile of files for her boss and tucked them under her arm, hating the fact that the mug was filled right to the very rim with the disgusting drink. Thankfully the walk from the break room to her boss’s office wasn’t all that far, it would be if she had to take the stairs, but thankfully their was an elevator that could bring her almost straight to his office.

(Y/n) kept an eye on the drink as she walked to the elevator making sure not the spill it. People gave her strange looks as they walked past her but she glared right back at them which made them quicken their speed past her. It wasn’t that she was a horrible person or anything. In fact, she was a very sweet and kind person. She was just a little stressed about the damn coffee in her hands.

The elevator dinged when she pressed the button and the door slid open. She quickly stepped inside and pressed the number to the top floor of Heroics Headquarters. She then began to repeatedly push the button to close the door, not really wanting to spend the journey with anyone else in that moment.

Luckily for her, everyone else walked past and the doors closed letting her be alone. (Y/N) let out a sigh and took in a deep breath. She always grew nervous on the journey up to see him. She didn’t really know why. Perhaps she was just an all round nervous person, that wouldn’t be a ridiculous suggestion. She had suffered with anxiety since she was a kid but it was something about this journey in particular that made it worse.

Maybe it was just the coffee.

Or maybe it was the fact she had been crushing on her boss for years. Of course, he wasn’t always her boss. He was her friend before he got promoted. Well, he still was her friend.

After the whole ordeal with the aliens from Ogima and the reveal that Miss Granada was actually one of them left the position for Head of HQ wide open. And who better to fill it, then The leader of the Heroics, Marcus Moreno. (Y/N) was the assistant to Miss Granada and so her position continued on to Marcus as well, not that she was complaining. It meant she got to spend more time with him. Which was also a downfall because she fell further and further for him.

She let out another sigh as she drew nearer and nearer to his floor. She looked down at her self and just hoped she looked presentable. But she knew if she didn’t he wouldn’t really say anything unless it was really bad in which he would kindly tell her. Because he was just the kindest man alive. And he was so kind to her. She wanted to feel special and hope that maybe, just maybe, he liked her back in the same way she liked him. But reality would always hit her that he was just kind to everyone.

The elevator stopped and dinged and the door opened. (Y/N) stepped out and began walking towards his office.

Thankfully the floor wasn’t too busy so she didn’t have to glare at anyone as she slowly walked with the coffee still in had and still completely full but some kind of magic.

His office was completely blacked out on the outside. Aside from the door. That was how she knew he was in there. His door was its normal glass self and she could see through it and saw Marcus working hard at his large black desk. The desk was almost the size of width of his already massive office. He wasn’t really a fan of it to be honest. It was far to big and it was intimidating. And it was lonely. Very lonely.

She watched as he put his pen down and took off his glasses, rubbing his hands over his face as he leant back in his chair. She felt saddened to see him look so worn out but perhaps the coffee would cheer him up. Or she would.

(Y/N) slowly opened the door and he lifted his head to look at her. “(Y/N)!” He said happily as he stood. She gave him a smile as she pushed the door shut with her foot and walked over to his desk.

“I brought you some coffee” she said. Marcus met her half way, clearly noticing the extent to which the mug was filled and he took it from her. Neither party failed to notice the way his fingers grazed against her as he took the mug.

“Oh my God, thank you” he said as he took a large gulp of it.

“Yeah, you looked like you need it” she laughed softly.

“Oh, I really did” he smiled to her “thank you”

“Just doing my job” (Y/N) shrugged. Marcus sped back round to his desk, placing the mug carefully in front of him as he sat back in his chair. She too walked over to his desk and pulled the files out from under her arm “you know I hate to have to do this but...” she slid them towards him “these are for you”

Marcus sighed and nodded “thanks (Y/N)” he said rubbing his face again. “I have not idea how Granada did this” he laughed.

“Because she didn’t do it alone like you do” (Y/N) pointed out. “She had an army of people who did most of them for her, she rarely did any. I was one of them. And I would be more than happy to help you as well. It is my job after all. I am your assistant”

“Yes you are my assistant” he copied the way she drew out her job role. He picked up his glasses and put them back onto his nose. “But you are also my friend. My best friend”

Best friend.

The words cut deep into her heart. He might as well taken one of his katanas that hung proudly on the wall behind him and stabbed it through her heart.

But she smiled anyway. She was happy being his best friend, even if she did want to be something more to him.

“Why should that make a difference, Marcus?” She said “since you’re now the big boss of the Heroics, I am first and foremost your assistant” (Y/N) took the pile of files back as well as half the stack beside him.

“(Y/N)-“ he tried to argue but she made a noise that stopped him “fine” he gave in “but...um...can you sit in here?” He asked shyly “it’s pretty lonely in here...”

She smiled and nodded “of course Marcus” She pulled a chair up to the other side of his desk and grabbed a pen and started working.

There was a comfortable silence over the two of them. The only sounds being the sound of pens against paper and pages being turned. But the silence was soon about to end. Marcus stopped writing for a moment and fiddled with the pen in his hand before speaking.

“(Y/N)” he said quietly as he lifted his head to look at her. But she continued writing only humming in acknowledgement of him saying her name “if...say for example,” he began, his voice filled with worry but he spoke with a nervous laugh “I-I were to...like someone” her hand froze as she slowly lifted her head to look at him, now interested in where he was taking this “h-how would I go about telling someone that?”

She tried not to grow angry at the idea of Marcus liking someone else. Her mind then began flicking through everyone who worked there to see if she could figure out who it was “Uh, I guess it depends on who it is. Because each person would like to get told differently I suppose” she said as she continued to write.

“Well...h-how would you like to be told?” He asked quietly making her pause again but she didn’t look at him this time.

“I-I haven’t really thought about that. No one has ever really liked me...” she admitted “but I guess...I’d just want them to tell me. You know, say something like, ‘(Y/N), I really like you’.”

“(Y/N), I really like you” he repeated.

“Yeah. Something like that” she nodded.

Marcus rested his hand on top of her making her had twitch slightly due to the fact she just wanted to hold it.

“(Y/N)” he said again making her looked up at him. He had soft eyes and gave her a matching smile “I really like you”

(Y/N) was lost for words. She couldn’t really believe what he had said to her. “Wh-What?” She managed to say.

“I really like you” he said again. A third time.

“A-Are you...S-Serious?” She questioned.

He nodded and smiled hopefully but his smile fell and he drew his hand away when he saw the expression on her face “have I made things awkward?” He said “I’ve made things awkward haven’t I? God. I’m so sorry (Y/N). Just...forget I said anything-“

“N-No. Its fine” she said quickly “you just...surprised me is all. Do you actually like me?”

“Yes (Y/N). I actually like you” he confirmed “but I’ve been too scared to tell you because we’re such good friends and I didn’t think you would like me like that. And plus I didn’t know how to tell you and I haven’t been on a date in years so I thought I was a bit out of practice and it’s been eating at me for months now-“

(Y/N) shut him up by leaning over his desk and pressing her lips to his. He was far too shocked at her actions to kiss back but he desperately wanted too. She pulled back and gave him a soft smile, trying her hardest not to laugh at the dumbfounded expression on his stupidly handsome face.

“I really like you too” she said as she sat back in the chair.

“You do?” It was his turn to be the one in disbelief.

“Yes” she nodded with a slight laugh.

“Does...this mean you’re...my girlfriend now?” He asked in a very small voice.

“If you want me to be” she said a little more confidently. Her heart was swelling at the feeling that she was now Marcus Moreno’s girlfriend. She had to try not to start squealing with joy.

“Does..” he began a little more slowly this time, but a little louder. “Does this mean you can also move your desk into here so I can actually talk to someone?”

“I’m sure it could be arrange”

29/12/20

Taglist: @linkpk88

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #Marcus moreno fanfic #we can be heroes #fluff #pedro pascal #fanfic

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f0rever15elf · 4 years

Text

Twin Souls

Summary: Soulmates. Twin souls. They’re the stuff of legends, right? They aren’t real...Or are they? And if they are...can they really span universes?

Pairing: Pero/Whiskey/Oberyn/Din/Max/Maxwell/Dave/Catfish/Marcus/Ezra x fem!Reader (yes, ALL of those Pedro boys are in this fic at some point. I’m overly indulgent) Rating: M Warning: Harsh language, sexual innuendo, death mentions, violence, injured reader, a little bit of angst (for the spice), way too many pedro characters in one fic, no beta reading. Soulmates!AU Word count: 9,649 (lord help me)

a/n: This was inspired by a post that literally just mentioned our favorite soulmate trope that through any universe, two souls will find one another and I just think that’s really beautiful and NEEDED TO GET IT OUT OF MY BRAIN. So I hope you enjoy this!

Masterlist | Ao3

Twin Souls. Mirror souls. Soulmates. Twin flames. Almost every culture has their own rendition of this idea that each of us has another half that we are created with and separated from before we come into this life. Someone we are destined to find as surely as the river finds the sea. Some legends claim it was that we all originate with four arms, four legs, two heads, and one soul that shone brighter than the brightest of stars in the sky, and this drew jealousy from the gods who then wrent us in two. For others, it is destiny calling two individuals together, the universe declaring that two must become one. And even simpler still, some believe that it is no more than a chemical attraction. Something purely physical, biological, and nothing more. A perfect mate.

But what if?

What if it was more than that. So much more. What if two souls were always destined to find one another? Across time and space and universes? What if...

Lightning cracks the sky, momentarily illuminating the face of the man on horseback. His scowl, as always, is firmly in place, his brow creased in a mix of irritation and exasperation. The rain has his dark, curled hair slicked down against his skull and his tunic under his armor is soaked through, drawing the warmth rapidly from his skin. He had told William they should make camp, that the smell of rain on the wind meant for foul weather, and soon, but William had ignored the grumpy Spaniard, electing to press on. Not twenty minutes later, the heavens opened, drenching the small caravan as they continued on. William rode silently in front of Pero, and he could feel the glare from his companion boring holes into the back of his head. If looks could kill, he would be dead several times over.

"I see lights ahead!" Calls the lookout from up ahead, and a satisfied chatter rolls through the group of sellswords. Pero lifts his chin only slightly to look ahead, jaw clenched, eyes alert. He had seen enough in his days selling his sword to know what to look for, and a small village in the middle of nowhere was always a gamble.

As the small group rides up to the edge of the village, a few of the village's men wait to greet them, lanterns out to welcome them to the town. The group of sellswords dismount as William goes to speak with the man Pero can only assume is the village leader. After a few words, William turns with a smile, moving through the group to tell them they would be making camp here tonight, bunking with members of the small community. The welcoming committee leads each man off to a different house, and had it not been for the rain still steadily downpouring, a dull chatter would have filled the air as the guests were welcomed with more hospitality than many of them were used to.

"And you, my friend, will be staying with us!" The village leader approaches Pero with a smile. "Come, my daughter will help to get you dry. This cold will seep to your bones and you will fall ill. Come. Come." The friendly elder makes his way to a small, comfortable hut, a warm fire blazing in the center. The crackling of the logs is a welcome sound to Pero's ears, and the smell of something savory fills his nostrils. The men had been living on rations for days, and Pero Tovar was sick of the hardtack and salt pork he carried with him. The elder introduces him to his family; a wife, a young son, and you, his only daughter. As soon as his eyes land on you, Pero feels a warm sensation spread through his stomach, one he had never felt before, and he finds it difficult to tear his eyes from yours as the man of the house begins speaking again, telling him that their house is his for the night. He manages to utter out a word of gratitude before you approach him, taking his hand to lead him to get cleaned up.

"It is not often our village has visitors," you murmur softly as you help him to doff his armor. "Most pass us by without so much as a second glance." Your smile causes that heat in his stomach to spread upwards through his chest, and up his neck. Such a foreign feeling... "Perhaps it is fate that brought you here, to us. I must thank fate, if that is the case, for bringing such a handsome man to my home." You laugh softly and it is a sweeter sound than any music the Spaniard has ever heard, light and gentle as the bluebird's song on the spring breeze. Pero's heart throbs in his chest at the sound.

"Sí, señorita. A thanks to fate for bringing me here." His eyes never leave your face and the tips of your ears turn red from the attention. His gaze was steady, with a hard edge of a man who had seen too much. After finishing doffing his armor, you help to ease him out of his wet tunic, and your heart stutters in your chest. Your gaze drifts from his torso back to his face, and your hand moves as if with a mind of its own, lifting to rest on his face. The soft pads of your fingers gently trace the scar over his eye. There was...something so familiar about him, but you had no idea what it was. Like you had seen this man before, someone who was him...yet not him. The thought confused you and you shook it from your head. That was impossible.

---

Your eyes snap open from the strange dream and you sit up in bed, rubbing your face. A man who looked so much like your Jack had been haunting your dreams for days now, and you had absolutely no idea what it could mean. Jack stirs beside you, letting out a soft groan as he stretches.

"Darlin'? You alright? It's awful early for you to be up." He glances over at the clock on the nightstand. 3:30 am, early was an understatement. His hand finds the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles against the skin there. You hum and nod your head.

"Just...weird dreams Jack. That's all." You turn your head and smile down at him and he makes a concerned sound at the back of his throat.

"Wanna talk about it, sweetheart?" Your heart melted at the concern, and you ease yourself back down, laying in his arms.

"It doesn't make much sense, really. You'll probably think I'm crazy." His arm holds you a little closer to him and he chuckles.

"Try me." A smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you take a deep breath.

"Well...if you say so. I've been dreaming of a person. It's...this guy. He looks so much like you, and he has a scar right here." You delicately trace the line of the scar from the mystery man in your dreams. "And his face is weathered and serious. He's always scowling. I have no idea but it's like it's you but it isn't you. But it's more like... a faded memory than a dream. It's crazy, I know." Jack is quiet as he listens to you, his fingers still tracing delicate patterns on your skin.

"I...don't think you're crazy, sweetheart." You blink, honestly shocked as you look up at him. He's staring up at the ceiling, a contemplative look on his face. "I've had dreams like that too. Ones of you. Or, well, a girl who looks almost exactly like you." Propping yourself up on your elbow, you look down at him, that handsome, lopsided smile on his face.

"You're not pulling my leg to appease me, are you?"

"Now darlin', when have I ever done that to you?" He had a point. His silver tongue worked magic in many ways, but spinning lies to appease you was not one of those ways. Your brow creases as you lose yourself in your thoughts of what this could mean until a whip-calloused finger smooths the lines between your brows. "You ever heard 'a soulmates, sweetness?" The question strikes you as rather odd, something out of a fairy tale, but you nod. "I'm thinkin' that may be our answer." His arm wraps around you and he pulls you back against him. "Lovers truly meant to be." Gentle lips press light kisses to your forehead, his moustache tickling the skin and drawing a giggle from you.

"Do you really think that, Jack? That we've met before?"

"Well it would explain how we fell in with one another quicker than a jackrabbit with a fox on its tail. Now, I know my charm is absolutely irresistible, but I don't think I can take all the credit here." He grins and you can't help the laugh that bubbles from your throat, smacking his chest lightly. You had to admit...it made sense. In some weird, metaphysical sense that you weren't quite sure you completely believed. But Jack believed it, and that was enough for you. It also meant you could stop feeling guilty about these dreams of this mysterious Spaniard.

"So this dream girl. What's she like?" You ask, snuggling into Jack's embrace. He shakes his head and laughs.

"What, you jealous of yourself, gorgeous? C'mon now, you get to ride this cowboy any time you like, ain't no need to be jealous of a dream of you." You gasp and smack his chest, cheeks flushing red as you hide against his chest. He chuckles and lavishes a few gentle kisses to the top of your head, snuggling down in bed with you.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, doll. Now close those pretty eyes of yours and get some sleep."

And you did just that, slowly drifting off to dreamland.

---

"Hellloooooo!" Cara snapped her fingers in front of your face and you jumped, coming back to reality. "You know, you really freak me out when you do that." She leans back in her chair, a cup of spotchka in one hand, her lopsided smirk on her face. You cough, and scratch at the back of your neck.

"Yeah...sorry about that." She just shakes her head.

"Where do you go when you zone out like that? Takes me forever to bring you back around." You just shrug, staring down at your bowl of soup.

"Day dreams, I guess. I can't really describe them. I see faces though. Well, a couple of faces anyways. Two men who look shockingly similar and-" Cara cuts you off with a wave of her hand.

"Sweets, I don't need to hear about your depraved day dreams." Her coy grin in your direction causes your face to flush a bright red at the insinuation and you make a move to reply when she goes rigid in her chair, setting her cup down with a little more force than necessary. Your brow creases in confusion, even more so when she stands and grabs your hand, quickly and quietly leading you out back. "Stay here," she hisses, moving slowly around front, leaving you confused and alone. And hungry. You had been so busy day dreaming you didn't even get the chance to finish your soup. A frown pulls at the corners of your lips as you hop up on a box out back, kicking your legs as you wait for your friend.

The sounds of fighting reach your ears a few minutes later and you jump up, running towards the sound, skidding to a halt when you round the corner to see Cara fighting with a person decked out in some of the shiniest armor you had ever seen. You open your mouth to say something when a small green creature walks out of the cantina, a bowl of soup in his tiny hands. He looks up at you and tilts his head before turning to walk a little closer to your skirmishing friend. You follow as both the armored figure and Cara end up on the ground, a blaster pointed at Cara's head. You're about to run forward to try and yank the blaster away when the sound of slurping distracts you. Looking down, you see the little green thing slurping up his soup, watching with a borderline uninterested look. The helmeted figure and Cara turn to look at you both before looking back at each other.

"...Want some soup?" The helmeted man says through what was clearly a modulator.

That was your first encounter with Din Dajrin, and you had no clue that that one day would lead to you aboard the Razor Crest, babysitting the little green creature he had taken in, and fixing things around the ship as they broke. You had never seen his face, nor much of his skin save for when you were patching him up from a particularly rough hunt, but that was okay. Life on the Crest was comfortable, and even in the silence that Din preferred to keep, you felt at home. His presence was enough to calm you on your more anxious days. The two of you grew close quickly. Quicker than you or he had expected, and it wasn't long before he was gracing you with idle affections. Light caresses as he passes you, his hand lingering on yours for longer than necessary, gently tucking stray hairs back behind your ear as you talk to him. Each little thing never failed to bring heat to your cheeks.

It was at the anniversary of your first cycle together that Din asked you to marry him. He had taken the three of you to a peaceful, lush planet to ask you. Some place safe and reclusive, a place where neither of you had to worry about anything. He wanted you as a part of his little clan, and your heart nearly burst with affection as you rapidly shook your head, wiping away the tears. The tradition was simple, a marriage a sacred vow between the Mandolorian and their spouse. It was a promise to bind the two as one. A few simple words was all it took, and he was yours. He brought your hands to his helmet to let you lift it off, the moment unable to be any more perfect than this.

And that's when the blaster sounded. You freeze as your eyes go wide, slowly looking down to your chest where bright crimson starts to bleed through the material of your tunic. You look back up at him with glassy eyes and stumble forward into his grasp, only vaguely aware of more blaster fire, then total silence. Din lays you down on the soft grass, yanking his helmet off, and oh how you wish you could see his face clearly. You make out dark curls atop tan skin, dark eyes looking at you with such concern and fear, desperation...a look you couldn’t bring your eyes to focus enough to make out. Everything is fading so quickly. You can't hear his voice, only ringing. You were so sure he had a beautiful voice, it's a shame you wouldn't get to hear it free of modulation. Lifting your hand, you place it weakly against his cheek, sputtering out "I love you...find me in the next..." With that, the last of your strength leaves you, your hand dropping from his face as your head lolls to the side, eyes staring blankly off into the distance.

Din lets out a cry of anguish as he pulls your lifeless form against him, sobbing into your hair. How could fate be so cruel?

Ezra shoots up ramrod straight in bed, gasping for air like a man drowning. A cold sweat clings to his skin, an afterthought of the nightmare that disturbed his sleep once more. He rubs his face, taking a deep breath before looking over at his time keeper. Two standard hours before his alarm... The sigh that leaves his lips is deep and heavy as he swings his legs over the side of his cot. Might as well get an early start on the day. There was no going back after that awful dream, and he could use the couple extra hours anyways. Mining with only one hand, everything took twice as long and was done half as well, so the extra time would give him a little leg-up on the day. Heavens above, he could use another set of hands around here. With Cee off at school, he was all on his own, and it was getting damn lonely. Working his way into his suit with a little bit of difficulty, he made the resolution to put out an ad for help the next time he went to the Depot to drop off a shipment.

And so he spent the day, mining and singing and talking to himself. Anyone else who saw him would surely think this one-armed man was crazy, but little did they know that talking to himself is exactly what kept him sane. He could move up the Depot visit. Yeah, that's what he would do. He'd need to go in the next week anyways, so why not just do it now? He resolved to head on the next day to the Depot, and he'd put out that add for some help.

The next day's trek was blessedly uneventful. The cash-in post scoffed at what little aurelac he had accrued so far, and the tips of his ears turned pink in embarrassment. He mutters a thank you for the credits exchange, and makes his way to the bulletin board to put in his ad. A single figure is standing in front of the board, a pack slung over their shoulder, miner's tools hanging off their belt.

"Pardon me," he says softly, scooting by them without looking at their face to pin up his ad. He turns to head back to his buggy to return to work, hopeful he would hear something over his coms soon.

"Sir?" A gentle voice calls from behind him and he freezes in place, his heartbeat suddenly incredibly loud in his ears. He knew that voice. That was the voice that had been in his nightmares over and over again. Find me in the next... He slowly turns to look at who had called him to see you standing there, looking exactly as you did in his dreams. But alive...so much more alive. You smile up at him, gentle and warm, with a light of concern in your eyes, and he has to resist the urge to run to you and pull you into his arms. "I say...you look like you've seen a ghost! Are you alright?" Ezra's mouth opens and closes a few times, not unlike a fish before he's able to find his words again.

"Y..Yes, I'm alright. Not to worry, gem, it's just been a rather arduous day is all, and I'm beginning to feel the effects taking hold. Pardon my rudeness." A gentlemanly smile graces his lips as he extends his hand to you. "The name is Ezra. How might you be doing this fine day?" You chuckle and take his hand, shaking it firmly. What an odd fellow this was.

"It's a pleasure, Ezra. And the answer to this next question will set my mood for the day, I'm sure. You're in need of a helper at your dig site?" He nods enthusiastically.

"I most certainly am! What a matter of fortune that I happen to stumble upon someone ready and willing to assist me the very day I come to place my ad!"

"Ready and willing is right! I just arrived on the surface. Took a gamble someone would be needing my help, and it appears I've come out on top!" Your smile is infectious, and Ezra returns it, just as brilliantly. It lights up his eyes, you notice. Warm, chocolate brown eyes that glimmer with a playfulness that excites you.

"Perhaps you can impart some of that luck on to me as we begin this partnership." He leads you back to his buggy to take you back to camp, loading up on some extra supplies as well with his meager earnings that would be needed with an extra mouth to feed. "Might you be the lucky star that this poor man has been waiting for!" You can't help but chuckle at the eccentric miner. His manner of speaking was so strikingly different from anyone you had met before. Words rolled off his lips sweet as nectar, and the sound of his voice bordered on intoxicating.

"Make a wish, and we'll see." You laugh, flashing him a wink. The two of you spend the rest of the ride talking, swapping stories of your previous adventures. Ezra's charm has you instantly at ease. It felt comfortable and familiar to be near him, and you couldn't quite explain it.

As you return to his camp and make your way inside, helping to unload, you do your best to help ease some of Ezra's burden. It was clear he was trying to show that his lack of an arm was no deterrent for him, but you worried he would hurt himself in the process.

"Here, I've got it," You say softly, taking an oxygen tank from him as he stumbled a bit, nearly dropping the canister. He looks up at you with those soulful brown eyes and your heart stutters in your chest. He nods and lets you take it inside as he grabs the last few small things from the buggy, following you in. His helmet hisses as he takes it off, slowly peeling himself out of his suit, and you do the same, folding yours up in the corner before standing awkwardly in the center of the hab until he's done. Dropping the offending article in the middle of the tent, he sighs and plops down on his cot, patting next to him for you to join. Happily, you do so, crossing your legs under you.

"Forgive me, lucky star, for my lacking capabilities. I am not the man I once was..." He gestures to the stump of his right arm, a pained look in his eyes. You place your hand on his thigh and flash a reassuring smile.

"Ezra, there is nothing to forgive. I'm here to help in whatever way you may need me to. We're partners, and partners help each other." He glances at you sideways, a smile gracing his lips at the pain fades in his eyes.

"Lucky star, I feel you may be imparting some of your luck on to me already. What plans the universe may have for us is an adventure I'm eager to embark on." You laugh and nod, squeezing his thigh once before getting up to start making your side of the hab.

And so the days go on. Long days spent mining as much aurelac as possible while the light provided, before getting cleaned up for the night. Evenings were usually spent listening to one of Ezra's fantastic tales, or listening to him read a book from his small collection. More and more you found yourself leaning against him, your eyelids heavy with sleep as his honey rich voice drawled on. It reverberated in his chest in a way that soothed you more than anything else had in the galaxy. But the good days were over too soon as mining season came to a close on the Green, and you found yourself facing Ezra in the Depot, the two of you ready to depart for your next jobs. The ache in your heart was unlike anything you had ever felt, having grown so fond of the loquacious miner.

You opened your mouth to say goodbye, to just rip the band-aid off, when he spoke over you.

"Come with me." The sentence was near a plea as he reached out to take your hand. Your eyes opened wide at his words, your mouth falling slightly open.

"W..what?"

"Come with my, my lucky little star... I can't imagine a life without you at this point, the comfort you bring me is beyond anything even the most luxurious of lifestyles could bring me." He squeezes your hand again. "Come with me...please..." You knew you couldn't, you knew you needed to head to your next journey, but the thought of doing so felt so wrong, as though your heart might explode if you tried...so you nod, and Ezra's eyes light up with a joy the likes of which you had never seen. He tugs your hand and pulls you to him, embracing you as best he can with his one arm, and nuzzles into your hair. You wrap your own arms around him to return the hug, sinking into the embrace that could only be described as feeling...right. You almost missed it as he whispered against your hair, "I found you..." You lean back, confusion in your eyes as you look up at him.

"...Found me?" You whisper and he smiles, dropping the embrace to take your hand and lead you toward his shuttle.

"If you would indulge me in some time to tell you a story, I can explain everything, lucky little star."

---

Your bare feet hit the pavement with loud slaps, legs propelling you forwards as fast as you could. Your lungs burned in your chest as you panted for air, not daring to look back over your shoulder for who you knew was following you. How had you managed to be so stupid, so careless? How could you have managed to get yourself involved in this?

"Get back here!" He yelled, his deep voice causing another shot of adrenaline to course through your bloodstream. He was going to kill you. Oh God, he was going to kill you! Tears stream down your face as you run, ducking into every alleyway you could, trying to elude him, but he had been doing this too long. He was good at covering his tracks, and you were a loose end he couldn't afford. You being alive jeopardized his life with his family.

You turn down another alley and your heart plummets when you are met with a stone wall, skidding to a halt in front of it. You hear his heavy footfalls behind you and you turn, falling to your knees. Maybe...maybe if you beg, he'll spare you?

Dave rounds the corner, and you hear the soft click of the safety of his silenced handgun. He stalks forward like a lion stalks an antelope and you have never in your life felt so small.

"You're a fast little she-devil, I'll give you that. It was a good chase." He stands in front of you as you begin to beg, pleading for your life. You'd move away, you'd forget everything. You'd change your name and cut contact with everyone, please just don't pull the trigger. "No can do, sweetheart. Can't risk it." He brings the gun up level with your forehead as you look up into his eyes, begging still, trembling with terror. For a moment, you see a light of recognition in his eyes, a light that looks so familiar it makes your heart ache. Visions of a space suit, an angry scar, a metal suit, and a cowboy hat all flash through your mind in rapid succession as the light registered somewhere deep in your subconscious.

Then, with the sound of a gunshot, everything vanishes.

---

"NO PLEASE STOP!" You shriek in your sleep, thrashing around in your shared bed, waking the man beside you. He startles, sitting up and pulling you upright, shaking you gently to try and wake you from your night terror. You had been having them more and more recently, and he was starting to get really concerned. Terrified eyes snap open, tears starting to streak down your face as you caught his eyes and immediately begin trying to get away from him, your body still full of adrenaline. "Let me go!" You screamed, fighting to get away from those eyes. Those damn eyes were exactly the same.

"Shhh shhh, cariña, calm down it was just a night terror, you're safe." That voice...that voice wasn't the same. That voice was so much kinder and softer than the one in your dream and you grow still in his arms, nervously looking back at the one holding you. Your terrified stare was met with the warmest chocolate eyes you had ever seen, full of nothing but love and concern for you as he held you.

"F-Frankie...?" you ask, barely above a whisper, and he nods. You tremble in his hold as you choke out a sob, falling into his embrace. "I-I'm s-s-sorry Frank-kie! I-It was s-so b-bad this t-time," you managed to choke out between sobs. Frankie’s gentle fingers run through your hair in an attempt to soothe you as he coos gently to you, swaying back and forth with you. His sleep shirt was clutched in your fists as you sobbed against him.

"It's alright cariña, I'm here, I've got you and you're safe. Nothing is going to get you, I promise." His voice is deep and rich, sleep still painting the edges of it as he holds you and whispers soothing words to you. How lucky could you be to have a man like Francisco Morales to call your own? He was so patient with you, even when these night terrors plagued you seemingly non-stop.

As your sobs turn to sniffles, he carefully looks down at you. "Was it the same dream, amor?" he asks softly, nervous to startle you, and you nod weakly.

"Being chased and cornered by a man with a gun...who looked like a sleazy businessman version of you... But his eyes were hard and angry and his voice was so cold." You look up at him with still watery eyes and he delicately wipes your cheek of any errant tears. "I hate this."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. I'm sorry, I would do anything to help those dreams stop." His hold tightens around you. He was angry. Angry he couldn't protect you from this. Angry that for some reason your mind was using his face to torture you. Angry that you could get no respite from these horrible visions in your mind. With closed eyes, he nuzzles into your hair, placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes slip closed as you slowly relax into Frankie's hold, your heart rate slowing to a more normal rate as the flood of adrenaline clears your bloodstream, leaving exhaustion in its wake. Frankie coaxes you to bed again, holding you as close to him as he can, hoping his presence will somehow help to deter the nightmares.

In the morning, you wake to the smell of bacon and the feeling of an empty bed. You sit up and stretch before rubbing your eyes and yawning. Damn, your head and eyes hurt from the crying last night. Stupid nightmare... With a shake of your head, you move to get up to go get some medicine when you notice two Tylenol and a glass of water sitting on the nightstand. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, knowing Frankie had left them out for you, and you take them, deciding to stay in bed a few more minutes and wait for Frankie. Your decision pays off when the door opens and Frankie walks in, a bed tray with pancakes, bacon, and a tall glass of chocolate milk in his hands.

"Morning amor. How are you feeling? I made your favorite blueberry pancakes." The smile that graces your lips he returns as he sets the tray across your lap before tucking a loose strand of hair back in place behind your ear, joining you on the bed.

"I'm alright as I can be. Tired of these stupid night terrors...I feel like I haven't slept in days." Leaning over, you press a quick kiss to his cheek before picking up a fork, digging in. The moan that leaves your lips borders on sinful as you taste the pancakes. Frankie's cooking always did amaze you. He chuckles as he leans back against the headboard, watching you.

"I'm glad you like the food." You nod with a smile and continue eating, content with the silence for now. That is, until a burning question bubbles to the forefront of your thoughts. "Frankie...have...have you ever had a dream...about a girl who looked like me?" The question comes softly from your lips, as if you are nervous to even ask it. It seemed so silly hearing it out loud.

"No, I can't say I have...but the day I met you, I could have sworn I had met you before. But there was no possible way that could have been." His voice is contemplative, and when you turn to look at him He's looking off to nowhere, lost in thought.

"What do you mean you could have sworn you've met me before?" He blinks a few times and looks back at you, shrugging.

"Everything about you was familiar. Your eyes, your laugh, your smile. Hell, even the way you stood, one hip cocked and your hand resting on it...It was all just so familiar, like I had met you a long time ago. Weird, I know."

"I'm the one having dreams about a guy who looks like a douche bag version of you trying to kill me, and you think familiarity is weird?" A pink tint creeps up his cheeks as he sputters out a reply.

"W-well when you put it that way..." You chuckle and shake your head, chasing a blueberry around your plate with your fork.

"Maybe...we have met before...just not...here." If he didn't think you were crazy before, he certainly would now.

"What, like a soulmate? A past life?" You nod, not looking up. You didn't want to see him looking at you like you were crazy. "Now that's an idea...it would explain a lot, wouldn't it?" Another nod, and his hand reaches around to lift your chin, turning your face to him. A gentle smile graces his beautiful face and you can't help but return it. "If that's the case, then I'm glad I found you again, soulmate." The giggle that escapes your lips only helps to widen his smile before he presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

You had heard great things of the Prince of Dorne. The Red Viper, Oberyn Martell. He was as fearsome as he was gentle. Ruthless as he was loving. His skills with poisons and fighting spears were unmatched, as was his sexual appetite. Or so you had heard. King's Landing was always full of whispers and rumors, so much so that it was hard to know just what was fact, and what was fiction. Not that it mattered, the rumors never affected you. You kept your head down, and did as you were told, assisting the Lanisters whenever need be. It was the best way to stay out of trouble, and to ensure your head stayed rightfully upon your shoulders.

But why all of the hubbub about Prince Oberyn all of a sudden? Have you missed an announcement? Cersei would have your head on a pike before the candles melted through if you embarrassed her by forgetting to outfit a chamber. A cold sweat breaks out over your skin and your heart races in your chest at the thought, your feet carrying you swiftly down the halls in search of Tyrion. He would know what was going on.

You find the man talking with his guard, and clear your throat softly as you approach, hands folded respectfully in front of you. Their conversation drops as Tyrion looks to you with a smile.

"Forgive my interruption, but I have heard many more whispers today than usual of The Red Viper of Dorne... Have...Have I missed a notice to prepare an extra chamber...?" Tyrion shakes his head and comes over to place a hand over your folded ones.

"Fear not, you've missed nothing. The chambers were already prepared for his visit." The tension melts from your shoulders and you nod, bowing your head before standing upright again.

"Thank you for informing me. I shall return to my duties then. Good day." You turn quickly as Tyrion bids you farewell, resuming your duties as needed.

The fight was the only thing anyone in the halls discussed. Oberyn was to champion for Tyrion in trial by combat with The Mountain. The whole of King's Landing was to attend to spectate, including the workers through the castle. It had been a long time since the walls buzzed with such energy, and you followed along quietly to the viewing stand reserved for the chambermaids. Perhaps you would now see if the words of the great Red Viper of Dorne were true. You watch with baited breath as he strides into the arena, his armor light, a fighting spear in his grip that he twirls with such grace it takes your breath away. His smile is confident, bordering on cocky, and you feel a twinge of fear for him. He was so small...The Mountain would crush him.

The fight was certainly something to behold, and for a moment, it seemed as though Oberyn's dexterity would win him the match. Till the tables turned... It was a gruesome sight, The Mountain was known well for his utter brutality. The cries of pain from the prince under his grip tore at your heart, and when his skull finally gave, painting the arena red, something inside you broke. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your hand covering your gaping mouth as your heart ached in your chest.

You had never met this man, and yet at the witnessing of his death, it felt as if you had lost a part of yourself.

"An intern? A FUCKING intern? What the fuck do I need with an intern?!" Maxwell stood from his desk, pacing behind it, a hand in his pocket while the other rubbed at his face. "I’m so close, SO CLOSE, to having the world in the palm of my hand, and you want me to take on AN INTERN?!" He snapped at the poor secretary who stood in the center of the room, trembling in her high heels.

"M-Mr. Lord...A-appearances are everything, sir, and I believe taking on an intern would brighten your appearance in the public eye even more so. She would be none the wiser, and you could use her to take care of your less important operations, sir." The secretary quivered under Maxwell's gaze as he stopped to stare at her, eyes hard as flint. Slowly, so slowly, a predatory smile works its way across his face, and he stalks forward, lifting the secretary's chin.

"You are an absolute genius, where would I be without you?" He shoves her head away and she stumbles back a step before catching herself. "Bring her on. Get her set up on payroll, benefits, whatever she needs, then send her here to talk with me." The secretary nods, scribbling down notes on a piece of paper before looking back up to her boss who has taken to looking out the window of his high rise office. "Well don't just stand there, chop chop!" She shoos her from the room and she leaves in a rush, heels clicking down the hall as she goes to find you.

The lobby of the Lord building was absolutely massive, and appropriately ornate for what you knew of Maxwell's image. Nervous fingers played across your pencil skirt, smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles in the material as you waited for the secretary you had met to return with her answer. The sound of heels clicking down the hallway draws your attention and a cordial smile graces your lips as the secretary returns.

"Good news!" she claims in an overly excited tone. "Welcome to the company! Mr. Lord has agreed to take you on as his intern. I'll take your information and get you set up with payroll while you come to meet the man behind it all." You nod, fishing a manila envelope of all of your information out of your shoulder bag, handing it over. "Excellent. Now, follow me. A few pointers," she says matter of factly. "Speak only when spoken to and NEVER interrupt. Mr. Lord hates being interrupted. You'll refer to him as Mr. Lord or Sir unless instructed otherwise. Keep your answer short and to the point. Are we clear?" You swallow thickly, suddenly astronomically more nervous than you were just a moment ago.

"Crystal."

"Excellent." She takes you to a large set of double wooden doors, knocking with three quick raps before opening the door. "Mr. Lord, here she is." The secretary ushers you in, placing you in the center where she stood trembling only minutes before, stepping off to the side as Maxwell strides up to you, circling around you as he sizes you up.

"Not bad," he muses. "Not bad at all." His gaze was searing, causing your blood to race in your veins. You were pretty, he had to admit, and that would definitely be a bonus if you were going to be around him every damn day. Something familiar tugged at the back of his mind. Your eyes or your jawline, maybe, but he quickly chased that thought away. "So, you're going to be my new intern!" He claps his hands together. "Your work starts now. Follow me." He places a hand on your shoulder, leading you to what you assumed was where you were going to be sitting for the rest of this internship.

You blink and stumble for a moment, a firm yet chilling grip catching you to right you.

"Careful there doll. Can't have you ruining that pretty face of yours cause you tried to kiss the carpet." Max laughed that ultra-fake, condescending laugh he had, letting you go as you righted yourself. Adjusting your pencil skirt, you nod and take a deep breath. This was all way too familiar. The outfit, the internship, the guide through the office to a desk by your boss'. It was hands down the worst case of deja vu you have EVER had.

"Mr. Phillips-"

"Call me Max, doll. You're my new intern, and I'd like to think of you and I more as friends than as boss and employee." He grins at you and you shiver at the sight of his fangs.

"...Max. Uhm...does...does any of this seem a little too familiar to you? Like you've been here before?" His look back at you with a look that makes you wish you could just melt into the carpet and disappear.

"I'm here every day, what are you talking about?"

"N-no I mean like, do you ever get deja vu? Because I'm having it bad right now." That trademark grin spreads across Max's face again as he seats you at your desk, perching himself up on the front of it so he's looking down at you.

"My whole unlife is deja vu, dollface. It's round two for me." That damn smile never leaves his lips as he watches you put your papers in the drawers of your desk. "Any other silly little questions, or should I just let you get started on your first day?" The tips of your ears were on fire and you shook your head.

"Nothing else, Max. Thank you, I'll get to work." He claps and nods, hopping off your desk.

"Alright, doll. You'll have a set of reports for editing in your inbox. Have them formatted, printed, and on my desk before you head out today." You nod, starting up your desktop as he makes his way from your now shared office. This...was going to be a long internship.

Max makes his way down the hall, that fake, used car salesman smile falling from his lips as soon as he is out of eye-shot. He stalks down the hall to his own personal bathroom, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.

"Fuck!" The acoustics of the tiled room cause his voice to reverberate, sharp in his ears. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" He white knuckles the edge of the sink, the porcelain cracking under his hands. It was her. It was FUCKING her! Of all the people who could come to intern at this company, it had to be his soulmate. Because of course it did! Why would the universe decide anything else?! The frustrated vampire closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. She didn't know, everything was going to be fine. Can't have a soulmate when you don't have a soul. Checkmate, universe. Yeah, that was what he would do, he’d ignore it. Problems always went away when you ignored them, right?

Wrong.

"I need to stop watching vamp movies before bed," Javier Peña groans, sitting up from his bed. "Fucking dreaming about them now.." He continues to grumble to himself as he gets ready for the day. It was going to be a long one. The DEA had caught a lead on Escobar, and were running a raid this afternoon. He needed to be on his game today, this could be the chance they needed to finally get that bastard. He slips his gun into the waistband of his jeans, grabs his leather jacket, and heads to work.

Hostages. Of course they had fucking hostages.

"This complicates things," Steve whispers from behind him.

"No shit," the exasperated DEA agent snaps back, eyes scanning the entrance to the building. They had no idea how many Escobar's men had in there, and they needed to get them all out. Javier was tired of seeing innocents die, caught up in something because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. "I'm going around back," Javi hisses, ducking around Steve to find the back entrance. "You stay here with the team. First gunshot, you move. Be smart, clear every room, move fast." Steve nods, taking Javi’s place as Javi slinks along the back perimeter.

He was right, there was a back entrance. He presses his ear to the door, trying to make out any sound and was met with only silence. Gun ready in one hand, he slowly opens the door, thanking whatever god existed that most of Escobar's men were idiots. They had forgotten to arm the back door. He moves along the wall to the hallway, noting two doors on the left, one on the right on the way to the main lobby. His heart pounds in his ears as he moves as quickly and quietly as possible, choosing the one door on the right first, seeing it open. He ducks in, gun sweeping over the room, but all he sees is you there, bound and gagged with duct tape. Your face was a mess, one eye blackened and dried blood from your nose crusted on the tape. Weary, broken eyes meet Javi's and his heart stutters. He had to get you out of here, and he was going to.

As you look at him, your eyes widened at the shadow moving down the hall. Noticing, Javi presses himself just to the side of the doorway, waiting for the man to make his way into the room before firing off two quick shots to his head. The man slumped to the ground, lifeless as the house descended into chaos. Javi grabs you, dragging you gracelessly to the corner where he can better protect you. The action draws a soft whimper from you, fresh tears running down your cheeks.

Gunfire, screaming in both Spanish and English, crashing and banging...it was all too much for you and you began sobbing, quaking in absolute terror. Javier held you to him gently, his large hand holding your head against his chest.

"Calma, calma. Estás segura. Soy aquí," he whispers softly against your hair, eyes trained on the door still.

"Peña! It's clear! We got them all, where are you?" Steve. Thank god.

"First room on your left. Bring me the first aid kit!" You look up at agent Peña with glassy eyes, bloodshot from crying and he starts to peel the duct tape away from your mouth as gently as he can. "It's alright, you're safe now." His voice is gruff, but he speaks so gently to you. You can't stop the trembling in your limbs, the adrenaline running its course.

"I got the ki- holy shit what did they do to her?!" Steve joins Javi by your side, helping to undo the tape binding your arms and legs.

"Beat the shit out of her it looks like," Javi pulls an alcohol swab from the kit, tearing it open to wipe off a nasty looking cut along your brow and you hiss, pulling back at the sting. "Easy, chica. I know it hurts, I'm sorry." The whimper that leaves your lips has Javi nearly seeing red. Those bastards...

"Let's get her out of here. We need to get her to a hospital." Steve is already standing up, pulling out his phone.

"No! No, please no hospitals!" The words come out as a rasp, your throat feeling like sandpaper.

"Lady, you're beat to hell, we need to get you some medical attention." He argues, but the look in your eyes is desperate as you turn your gaze back to the DEA agent who saved you.

"Please, please no hospitals...I can't do it."

"Peña..." Javier cuts him off with a shake of his head.

"I'll take her back to my place and take care of her. She can stay there for now. Her place probably isn't safe right now anyways if they managed to get her." No hospitals...they weren't going to take you to the hospital. Relief washes over you and your limbs suddenly felt so heavy.

"Thank you..." You barely make out before your body gives out and you slump against Javi. His arms wrap around you after checking for a pulse, and he stands, scooping you up bridal style in his arm. He carries you out to his car, sitting you in the front seat and strapping you in, Steve arguing the whole way.

"Look, she said no hospitals, so we aren't going to the hospital. If things get worse, I'll take her, but for now, I'm taking her back to mine. You stay here and get the paperwork done. I'll call if anything changes." Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Javi was already in the truck, taking you to his little apartment on the quiet side of town.

It was surely a strange sight, the DEA agent carrying in your battered body to his apartment, and it raises the eyebrow of Old Woman Angela who gracefully still decides to mind her own business. Safe within the confines of his home, Javi carries you to his bed, laying you down gently before ridding you of your shoes in an attempt to grant you at least a little comfort.

"Let's get you cleaned up, querida." His words are soft and gentle, more so than he's used with anyone in a long time. Delicately, he wipes your face with a clean, damp cloth to rid you of the grime and blood that had built up, using caution around your deeply blackened eye. The sight of you so battered made his heart ache. He was used to violence, he was used to death. It followed him everywhere in this line of work. So why, then, was this hitting him so much harder than any of the others. Why did he feel this overwhelming need to protect you, to keep you safe from all the world's atrocities? He shakes his head and mutters to himself in Spanish as he moves to sanitizing and dressing your wounds. Once you were as cared for as he could make you, he sits, watching your sleeping form. The subtle rise and fall of your chest as you sleep gives him at least a little comfort. His hand moves as if of its own will, taking yours gently. They're so soft, and they fit so perfectly in his, almost like your hands were made to be held in his. It felt so right, so natural. And that was something Javier Peña had never felt before, not like this. In your sleep, so gently he almost thinks he imagined it, you squeeze his hand tighter.

Javier Peña didn't even know your name, but in his heart he knew one thing.

You were home.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" you call from your place on the couch, head dangling off, your feet where your head should be.

"Absolutely," came the gentle voice from the kitchen.

"And what about soulmates?"

"Those too. Why do you ask?" Marcus peeks his head out and chuckles when he sees you once again refusing to use furniture correctly.

"I dunno, just a thought I've been having recently. Like, how do people know when they've found their soulmate? It's not like we have a countdown timer that tells us."

"Well," your boyfriend comes to join you on the couch and you immediately right yourself to lay with your head in his lap, his fingers moving to play with your hair. "It's one of those things you just know. Like, they walk into the room and all you can see is them. Their voice and laugh makes you feel like you're floating, and every time you see them a warmth spreads through you from the tip of your head all the way to your toes. And the feel of their skin is the most right thing in the world, like anywhere you go, so long as you're with them, you're home." His gentle smile down at you does just that, filling you with that warmth it always does. "Some people even say they have dreams of past lives where they've met their soulmates before."

"Have you?"

"I have." His voice is so assured, it takes you by surprise, and you must have worn that look on your face because Marcus laughs before tapping your nose.

"...Tell me about her. Or him, I guess." Curiosity was eating you alive. Who was Marcus' soulmate? Were you keeping him from them? Your heart sank at the thought that maybe...maybe he belonged to someone else through some greater proclaimed destiny.

"She's been so many things and been on so many adventures, love. She's flown through the expanses of space so many times, fought monsters and mined for rare jewels. She's aided weary warriors who were passing through her tiny village. She's survived terrifying experiences with drug lords and she's worked as a top agent in intelligence organizations. She's wept for a lover she never knew, and she's been mourned by more than she will ever know." You watch his face with a child-like wonder, and when he finishes he looks at you, that glimmer you love so much still present in his eyes. "Have you ever had similar dreams?"

The question catches you by surprise and you find yourself contemplating. You had never really remembered dreams, but a few did stick out to you. "I remember...space. And the man I was with was cold and metal, but his voice was gentle. And I remember...I remember working in offices with men in suits I could never afford, but who bought me nice things to say the words they could never get to come out. And...a scar. I remember a scar." Wandering fingers reach up to trace over Marcus' eye. "I remember my first thought when I saw you was 'Didn't he have a scar?' But the thought was so out of place, I had no idea what to do with it. I had never met you before! So I...forgot it." All through your talking, Marcus' smile has just grown wider, as if he's waiting for you to catch one of his jokes.

When it all clicks into place, you sit up, your mouth slightly open as memories flood your mind's eyes. A wet and weary warrior, a charming cowboy, a fearsome hunter covered in metal, a talkative gentleman whose every sentence was poetry, a ruthless killer, a soft pilot with a heat of gold, a grand prince gone too soon, a pompous billionaire, a sarcastic frat boy, and a gentle DEA agent all flashing through your mind in rapid succession. Your eyes tear up with the memories that are yours but at the same time aren't, and you reach up to cup his face. Words die on the tip of your tongue as you struggle to force them out.

Marcus takes the burden from you, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It's heavy, full of so many memories, so many moments, so many lifetimes. It's so magnificent it sucks the air from your lungs and you break away to gasp for breath as Marcus presses his forehead to yours.

"Y...You're my...soulmate..." The words are barely a breath, but he hears them all the same and nods, pecking your lips once more as he gathers you into his arms. You melt into the grasp, more comfortable here than anywhere else on earth.

"Yes, my love. And no matter the lifetime, no matter the universe, no matter the struggle...The forces that be will always bring me to you. Always wait for me."

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

Tag list is open!

Requests are Open!

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infernwetrust · 3 years

Text

f**k, i luv my friends [Fem Reader x Michael Langdon x Jim Mason x AHS 1984]

BRIEF INTRO: This takes place in alternate universe, combining Cody’s characters Michael, Jim, Duncan (supporting), and Xavier. The 1984 gang is included as well. The Michael for this series is a cross between Sojourn and F&R.

Summary: You and your best friends gather around the beach for some fun. The beginning of this series.

Warnings: A WHOLE LOTTA CUTE SHIT.

WC: 3.0k

A/N: Holy fucking shit I’m so excited to share this massive series I’m working on with you guys. I don’t know what to call it yet so for now under my master list it’ll be called “THE BESTFRIENDS UNIVERSE”. This was inspired by the artist renforshort and her song “f**k, i luv my friends”. There will be PLENTY of smut, angst, fluff, and MORE across this series. I am so unbelievably excited. If you would like to be in my tag list for this series please let me know! My ask box is open, so if you have any ideas or requests for this series, please, please, please ASK ME. There is no plot to this, therefore there are no limitations. Thank you so much for reading! -Juno

You smiled as you took a sip of the drink your boyfriend, Michael had made you. As you sat in the sand between his legs, him laid out on his beach towel, arms behind his head, eyes closed as he breathed in the ocean air. Your smile grew even wider as you scanned the rest of the beach, spotting the rest of your friend group. There was Xavier and his girlfriend Montana, who stood barely in the water, arms wrapped around each other as they kissed slowly under the sunset. Then there was Jim and his girlfriend Brooke who lay on their surfboards lazily, letting the waves carry them away, being careful not to get too far away. And then Chet and Ray, each with a bottle of Jack in their hand, taking sips as they took selfies and laugh at what you were sure were their usual stupid jokes.

You curled your toes as you took another sip, loving the feeling of the sand between them. How did you get this lucky to have this many people in your life that loved you and you loved them too? What had started as a small friendship with Montana, turned into something so huge. She introduced you to her boyfriend, Xavier, who then introduced you to the rest of their group, including Brooke's boyfriend, Jim. All of you met in freshman year of college and have been friends since. Michael was the last to enter the picture, but how everything changed when he did.

While you had finally found a stable friend group that you quickly grew to love, you were longing for something a little bit more. And that's when Michael came in and swept you away. He had come in as a transfer student from another college, sophomore year, and what a coincidence that you had him in all of classes first semester. He was a face you saw regularly around campus and you couldn't help but be drawn to his quiet nature. Slowly you began talking to him and you noticed how timid and reserved he was. He didn't really go out of his way to speak to anyone, besides when you would speak to him. He would give half smiles, and either one word or half sentences.

Soon you began walking with him to all your classes, the two of you never leaving each other's side. You'd help him with his homework for a class he didn't understand all too well and in return he would do the same. Lunch and dinner together became a regular thing. Your friends noticed your interest, often glancing at the two of you from another table afar, giving smiles and making stupid faces. When it came down to exams, you two met up every night 2 weeks prior, in the library, studying diligently, learning from each other's notes. He opened up to you rather quickly after that and when you were sure that he was comfortable enough you introduced him to everyone else, who immediately took a liking to the blonde boy with the soft, but vibrant blue eyes.

It was the small and subtle acts between the both of you, that drew you closer together. When you could sense that Michael was getting overwhelmed in a social setting, your hand found it's way into his, giving him a reassuring smile before the conversation continued. Or how when he spoke to you, you tuned everyone else out in the room to let him know that it was about him and no one else. It was you rubbing his back when he got frustrated, throwing his textbooks to the floor because he simply did not understand or when he would get into a spat with his older brother, Duncan over the phone.

It was him, picking up your favorite snack and coffee from the grand cafe before your 8AM. It was him, walking you back to your residence hall in the middle of the night to ensure that you made it safely. It was the way his blonde hair moved with the wind, the endless laughter, the stressful nights. Before you knew it, you had fallen in love with Michael. 9 months of an unbreakable bond.

You still remember the first time he kissed you. Both of you stood drunkenly in the middle of a frat party, not really wanting to be surrounded by the crowd of sweaty bodies and other screaming young adults. You screamed in Montana's ear over the loud music that you and Michael were going to step outside for some fresh air. She drunkenly gave you a thumbs up, not be able to remove her lips from Xavier's who roughly grabbed at her ass, pulling her closer into him. You finally felt like you could breathe once the cool air hit your skin.

As you stared out into the distance, you couldn't help but feel like a set of eyes were burning into your skin. When you turned your head, you met Michael's gaze and before you could even ask him what was wrong his lips were on yours. He quickly pulled back, shocked by what he did and he moved his lips to say sorry, but you grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him back towards you. A fire danced inside the both of you as he wrapped his arms around you, you doing the same. You could feel yourself melting away at his touch, his soft lips against yours, the occasional brushing of noses. For the first time, this was a kiss that felt right. You felt safe in his hands and knew you wanted to be his.

"Y/N!" Xavier called out to you, immediately snapping you out of your thoughts. The air had gotten a little bit cooler, which you welcomed. You looked over in his direction. He motioned the action taking a picture with a camera, and bringing his fingers to his lips like he was smoking. This signaled to you that he wanted you to come over with your Polaroid camera and that he going to light another joint. You enthusiastically gave him a double thumbs up, letting him know that you'd be over there soon.

You turned around to look behind you, down at Michael who looked so peaceful as he became one with the beach. His mouth hung open slightly and you knew that he was falling asleep, which caused you to giggle, moving a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"Hey..." you said softly, running your hands down his chest, watching as his eyes quickly fluttered open in a daze. He groaned sleepily, a smile forming on his face when he looked into your eyes. He grabbed onto your hands, holding them in place and running his thumbs along them. "Don't tell me that you're falling asleep already. Our night hasn't even really begun."

"I was resting my eyes." he said, chuckling a little bit at his obvious lie.

"You can do that for the rest of the night when we get back. Xavier wants to take pictures."

"Why is he so obsessed with taking pictures?" Michael questioned, propping himself up on his elbows as you rose to your feet, dusting the excess sand off you. He couldn't help but bite his lip as your bikini top fit you perfectly, combined with the booty shorts you wore that was snug to your figure. He ran his hand through his messy hair, sighing.

"We're making memories Michael." you answered. "I don't want to hear anything when you literally have all the Polaroid pictures I took of us and everyone else scattered around your dorm room and on your car dashboard. You love taking pictures as much as he does. You're just feeling lazy."

"You enjoy reading me to filth, don't you?"

"Only sometimes." You walked over to your belongings, grabbing your camera and your tripod. Michael soon got up, also dusting the sand off of himself, shaking his hair in the process before following you down to where everyone else was.

"We were hoping you two would join us soon." Montana said, smiling at you and Michael. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug that you gladly returned.

"Well don't you look more alive than ever, Mike." Xavier said to his friend. "Enjoy your nap? I mean we've been here for like what, an hour?"

"Fuck you, Xavier." Michael said, shoving him playfully in his shoulder earning a smirk from him. "It could have been a longer nap. It should have been."

"You don't want to miss out on this do you?" Xavier questioned, waving the joint in front of Michael's face. "It's your favorite strain, wedding cake."

"I suppose you have a valid claim." Michael answered, reaching for the joint, but couldn't grab it because someone else did.

"Don't mind if I do." Jim said, grabbing the joint out of Xavier's hand, immediately putting it between his lips and lightning it.

"Eager are we?" you asked Jim as you set the camera up, earning a smile from him as he stuck his tongue out at you, walking back over to Brooke who now stood only a few feet away, conversing with Chet and Ray.

"That's why I rolled two." Xavier said, taking another one from behind his ear and handing it to Michael. "Too many of us for just one, right?"

"More like Jim will inhale half of it before passing it to anyone else." Montana chimed in, rolling her eyes as she rested her elbow on Michael's shoulder, letting the smell of the freshly lit joint consume her.

"That sounds more like it." Michael said as he exhaled, passing it to Xavier.

"I strive to be a stoner like him though." she continued. "Detached from reality for most of the day, but still functional? That sounds like heaven."

"No it sounds like Jim's tolerance is through the roof." you said, to which Xavier nodded in agreement.

"He's been smoking since he was like 12. I'm jealous." Xavier said, handing the joint off to Montana who took a few hits before passing it to you. As you inhaled, you felt your body relax tremendously. A few more hits and the joint was back in Michael's hand.

"Okay everyone!" you yelled, getting everyone's attention. "Camera is all good to go!" You took a couple pictures of Montana and Xavier, your heart too warm at their various poses. He would wrap his arms around her from behind or she would climb on his back, wrapping her arms around his chest. A couple of off guards of the two were taken as well. You told them to act natural, just to converse with each other as you snapped pictures. Pictures of you and Michael followed. He made sure to always make a statement in the pictures that he took with you. He stood behind you, a hand wrapped gently around your throat as he snapped your head back to make you look at him, blissful smiles on both of your faces.

"Hey!" he yelled towards Jim who had his phone in his hand, taking Snapchats of everyone and posting them to his story. "Take a picture of Y/N and I like this. I want to post it to my Instagram." Jim gladly did as Michael asked, immediately sending the photo to him after so that he would have it to post later. The next picture was simple. You and Michael stood next to each other, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and yours wrapped around his waist, the both of you giving a soft smile. The final picture was of him holding you in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist as you pressed your lips against his, the both of you smiling in the kiss.

Jim and Brooke were wild and spontaneous and you loved it. Taking pictures of them were by far your favorite. Brooke held Jim in a headlock, a wild smile across his face and gripped onto her arm as you took the picture. Then she got on his shoulders, Jim holding her securely in place as her hands laid in his hair. Their last picture was of them, backs to the camera as they held hands, staring off into the sunset. You quickly turned the tripod around, taking an off guard of everyone who sat to the side around the fire. Xavier held the joint in his hand, mid sentence in conversation with Chet. Ray, Montana, and Michael were laughing their asses off at God knows what. All the emotions you were feeling inside, you swear you could cry at the sight. You fucking LOVED your friends.

You gathered all the boys up for their group photo. Xavier stood next to Jim, arm around his shoulder, hand slightly over his chest. Next to Jim was Ray, with a tooth pick in his mouth as he leaned into Jim's shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest. Michael stood next to Ray, his hand place on Ray's head as if he were holding a basketball, his other arm wrapped around Chet's shoulder, hand perfectly displaying a middle finger in the middle of Chet's chest.

"God, I fucking love y'all." Brooke said as she stood behind you, watching you take the picture.

"They're cute, aren't they?" you asked, putting on your best focused face as you snapped the picture. You told them to hold their pose as you snapped a couple more, wanting everyone to have a copy of that picture.

"Too cute for their own good." Montana said. "A bunch of shit heads."

"Our shit heads." you said. "Okay guys! Just two more. One of us girls and then all of us together and then we can figure out plans for dinner!" You bit your lip, holding hands with Brooke and Montana as the 3 of you stepped in front of the camera. Montana stood in the middle of you and Brooke, throwing her arms tightly around your shoulders, bringing the two of you closer to her. She stuck her tongue out for the photo, while you held up a peace sign with your hand, a wide, closed eyed smile on your face. Brooke held onto Montana's arm, her own wide, but opened eyed smiled, forming across her face. You can tell that Michael had taken a few extras for everyone else, consider how many time the cameras flashed behind your closed eyes.

Finally, the moment you, and you're sure everyone else was waiting for. The big, family, photo. Xavier and Chet took the ends. And in this order everyone stood: Xavier, Montana, You, Michael, Brooke, Jim, Ray, and Chet. You set the timer on the camera, all 9 of you trying to come up with different poses quickly for the camera. Your favorite one as you went through them had to be the one where you and Michael sat in the sand in front of Brooke and Jim who now stood between Xavier and Ray. He let you wrap your arms around his torso, your nose nestled perfectly into his cheek as you gave him a small kiss.

"Okay." Xavier sighed as he hopped into the drivers seat of Jim's midnight blue Tahoe. Jim himself in the passenger seat. Brooke and Montana took the second row. You and Michael snuggled together comfortably in the very back row, your feet sprawled out in Chet and Ray's laps as they both got lost in their phones scrolling through Facebook and sharing memes with each other, which reminded Michael to post the picture of the two of you Jim had sent to him. "Anyone have any dinner ideas before we leave? Anyone in the mood for anything particular?"

"Honestly could just keep it classic and go for a burger and a shake right now." Ray said from the back.

"Ooo, from where though?" Jim asked, turning around to look at him. "That shake sounds really fucking good. Chocolate shake. I want a chocolate shake."

"Tommy's!" Montana, Brooke, Ray, and Chet said in unison.

"Michael? Y/N?" Xavier questioned, pushing his sun glasses down so he could look at the both of you.

"A cookies and cream milkshake is calling my name right now." Michael said as his hand lazily brushed through your hair.

"You had me at burger." you agreed.

"Tommy's it is." Xavier said, finally starting Jim's car, his blue LED strips, dimly illuminating the car, the last song on his phone beginning to play as Xavier single-handedly backed out of the parking space.

Despite how tired everyone was, the car ride was far from silent. For the first 30 minutes anyways. It would take over an hour and a half before you all got back into downtown LA. You finally sat up in your seat, Michael throwing his arm around your shoulder to keep you close to him. So needy , you thought, but you loved that about him. He always wanted to be close to you. He always wanted to touch you. He made sure you felt loved and secured. You watched at the front as Jim and Xavier currently sang and half danced to the song that played. You glanced at Brooke and Montana who had fallen asleep rather quickly, heads leaned against the car window. Chet and Ray had resorted to playing Among Us to pass the drive time, Michael soon joining them.

"Okay, fucking seriously." Michael said as he furrowed his eyebrows, pissed that he was killed by the imposter yet again. And the imposter just happened to be Chet, but of course he kept silent, not wanting to alert Ray. You giggled to yourself, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You wiped them anyway, inhaling deeply before exhaling.

"Everything alright?" Michael asked, noticing your change of mood. "Why are you crying?" He made sure to whisper, not wanting to draw attention to the both of you.

"Michael." you said. "I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N." he smiled.

"And all of our crazy friends."

"I love them too." he laughed.

Fuck, I love my friends

Without them, I'd be dead

I know they're the only ones who'll love me till the end

We're all such a mess, lonely and depressed

Been so long and I can't wait to see them again

Fuck, I love my friends

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid @theneverendinghunger @fernfiction

Again, let me know if you would like to included in the tag list for this series!

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

Note

Imagine Daniel being with the girls throughout the day and comes after a long of being with them to Flora, complaining how clingy & annoying they were

This one inspired me so fast omg. I loveee writing the imperfections of life - and parenthood - so this was fun! 🥰

Daniel cherished his one-on-one time with Florence, but he also knew the importance of quality time with his daughters too. Coming from a family of four children, one thing Daniel always loved was when one parent would take them out for a dinner either one-on-one or with all the kids for a little quality time so he made sure to keep that tradition going with his children. It also gave Florence a little time for herself since she was often at home with them most of the time.

Daniel had them out all day at the park and the shops and right through lunch and into the afternoon. He loved his girls more than anyone in the entire world but he was drop dead exhausted by the time they got home for dinner. Florence had everything ready to eat by the time they got home and she knew they got home by the sudden increase in noise that entered the apartment.

“Shoes off. Hands washed.” Daniel called to the three of them.

They all huddled in the powder room to wash their hands all at once in a rush and Daniel barely had a second to kiss his wife with a tired kiss before the three girls were making a mad dash to their mother.

They all tried to talk over each other to tell her about their day, how they rode on the subway the whole track and back and how they played in the park and everything in between, all while finding their seats for dinner. Daniel just rubbed his temples with his fingertips at the head of the table and stayed quiet.

“Sounds like you had lots of fun.” Florence said as she placed the last plate on the table and sat down with her family.

The girls kept rambling on until Florence had to silence them down to say grace.

Lucy slapped her hands together and shouted loudly, “Iminame of father and son and holy spi-”

“Hey, hey. Shh.” Florence nudged the six-year-old lightly, “Don’t need to scream. I’m sure God can hear you just fine with your indoor voice.”

Clementine and Penelope giggled from across the table.

They said their prayers quietly together and then began to eat. Florence knew her husband well and his lingering silence didn’t need much of an explanation as to what was wrong. So she kept the dinner time chatter to a minimum and made sure the girls cleared their plates when they finished and sent them to the living room to play.

Daniel helped to clean up flatly but Florence grabbed his arm and turned him around to face her. She slid her hands up his biceps and gave them a little squeeze, “Go shower and lay down, okay? I got them.”

Daniel nodded and kissed the corner of her mouth before shuffling off down the hallway.

When the kitchen was cleared and the girls were bathed and tucked in their pyjamas, Florence ushered them into the master bedroom to say goodnight. She told them that Daddy isn’t feeling well so let’s be nice and quiet and say thank you for a fun day and then get right to bed as they headed inside.

Daniel was sitting up in bed on his laptop and the girls hurried over with their matching little wet braids and fresh pyjamas and climbed up on the bed to hug him and kiss him goodnight. With quiet ‘thank you’s and ‘I love you’s shared, Florence took the girls back out to bed.

When she returned, Daniel had shut his laptop off and was just staring into space blankly. Florence giggled lightly at the melancholy of her husband and closed the door behind her and climbed onto the bed with him.

“What happened today, baby?” she asked softly, petting a hand through his hair gently.

“You know I love them?” Daniel lolled his head to the side to look at her.

“Of course.”

“You know I’d take a bullet for them any day?”

“Yes.”

“God, Flora…” Daniel closed his eyes with a sigh, “They’re so damn annoying sometimes.”

Florence bit back her smile and she rested her head against his, “Tell me all about it.”

“Lucy wouldn’t leave my side for five seconds. There was a whole argument about who was going to sit beside me that we ended up rotating the seating arrangement three times throughout lunch.”

“They love you.” Florence laughed lightly, massaging her fingers through the back of his hair.

“And they don’t…stop…talking. Ever. Literally ever.” Daniel added. “Even Penelope was yammering on about something all day and…”

He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes as if simply remembering it gave him another headache.

“They’re so fucking loud. Especially Lucy…she yells more than she talks and she sings literally everywhere. If I put a hat at her feet someone would have tossed a dollar in.” Daniel draped his arm around his wife’s body tiredly, “And her singing sent Penelope into a meltdown on the subway so then I had to console one kid and try to get Clementine to stop scolding Lucy for it…fuck.”

“You’re a good dad.” Florence whispered, scratching her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck, her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as they leaned towards each other.

“I caved and bought them ice cream so they were all cracked out on sugar and just hanging off of me and they insisted I play at the park with them so I couldn’t even sit for five fucking seconds…should have just left them there.”

“Oh gosh.” Florence laughed lightly as he rolled over to flop on top of her with a groan. “Well I’m glad you didn’t leave them at the park.”

“Please…no more babies.”

“I know.” Florence assured him with a laugh. “We already agreed on that.”

“Just reminding you.” Daniel mumbled, nuzzling into her chest. “I will not be able to handle any more.”

“There was once a time you said you wanted fifteen babies.”

“That’s when I was young.”

“You’re only thirty-one.” Florence giggled as she rubbed his back soothingly. “You’re still young, Daniel James. We are still young.”

“I feel old.” Daniel raised his head from her chest to pout up at her, “When do my girls make me this cranky? Huh?”

“Just an off day. They drive me up the walls too sometimes.”

“And you’re home with them so much more.” Daniel breathed, shuffling up her body as his arms wrapped right around her and he rested between her bent legs. His flushed emotional face had her taking his cheeks in her hands. “I dunno how you do it.”

Florence only chuckled and leaned down to kiss him once, “You know that I snap at them myself sometimes too. We aren’t perfect.”

“Mm,” Daniel stared at her, eyeing her lips as he licked his own, “well you’re pretty damn close to it.”

“I’m not clingy and annoying like your daughters?” Florence tisked playfully.

Daniel shook his head and leaned up to kiss her a few times, letting his lips linger on hers with each kiss. Her hands drew twirling shapes over his back and into his hair as he pulled away from her.

He stared at her in thought for a moment before admitting ever so quietly, “I’m the clingy one.”

#anything but mine #daniel seavey #why dont we #daniel seavey imagines

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ginazmemeoir · 3 years

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so i was inspired by @h00man-bean and here you go with a fic about Kaz and Inej as the Devil and the Reaper.

tagging @h00man-bean @mango-pickle @carmen-riddle @the-fault-in-our-inquilab @momo-all-the-way @gopikanyari @aadyeah @reddish-green-personality @weird-u @holding-infinity-and-a-book @dragonfairy1231 @totallyforgotyouwerehere @a-dragon-under-the-stars @taareginn

I crash into consciousness. The sound of gurgling water and rustling leaves greets me as I stand up. Strange. The last time I was alive, I had arthritis and was confined to a wheelchair. All Nina could do was slow mine and Inej’s death. I remember the last breath I drew, the last thought I had, the last time I saw Inej smile. And then nothing. Just an empty void, just – not being anymore.

I look at myself, flex my toes. It appears as if death has returned my old skin back to me, but it still doesn’t look like mine. This one is clear as if it was tended to by a Grisha tailor daily, as if the man who bore it had never worked a day. I am wearing the suit I stole from Pekka Rollins, decorated with a genuine gold pin showing a crow with a lion’s head in its claws. My cane lies beside me along with my hat. Either I am in a coma and am dying a slow, painful death as many of my enemies wished, or I have woken from a dream and nothing that I know happened, never really happened. I would rather prefer the first. Then, I see Inej.

She stands there in her captain’s uniform, the teal coat Sturmhond gave her, coupled with breeches and boots. I bet her knives are still tucked there. Her skin, still the same gleaming bronze, is now wrinkle free. Her eyes are kohl rimmed, and her ink black hair spill onto her shoulders. She looks at me with confusion, her eyes searching. “Kaz?” she asks. I move toward her, and then run. Funny how a good leg is almost as useful as a grisha crafted cane.

I clasp her hands in mine, her breath caressing me. “Inej,” I whisper “What are we doing here?”

“You’re both dead actually.” says a voice behind me. I turn around to see a Fjerdan merchant approaching us. He wears a blood red coat with gold lapels. His blonde hair is slicked back, and he walks with the cool confidence of someone who just cracked a deal. The only thing differentiating him from a Kerch businessman that I once looted is that he’s surrounded by floating rocks. Inej immediately kneels beside me, and nudges me. “Sorry but I have a bad leg. Also I don’t bow to animated turkeys.” I say as I go and retrieve my cane and hat. The Fjerdan chuckles and replies in heavily accented Kerch, “I suspect that bad leg excuse is of any use to now, Kaz Brekker. Also, please get up Inej, you look extremely out of place bowing to me in a teal coat.” Inej gets up reluctantly, and when she does, she has… tears in her eyes?

“Sankt Demyan of the Rime, thank you for protecting me.” She says, and hands him one of her knives. “Ah. How poetic.” He says, and pockets the knife. That is when I realize that we, in fact are dead. And Inej’s saints, are in fact, real. Great. There goes my ten thousand kruge. Thankfully the rest of the Crows aren’t here or I would have ended up as quite literally, a bankrupt soul.

“How many times have I told you Demyan to let me welcome the visitors? You’re hardly a gracious host, let alone a good gambler,” says a Shu woman, as she walks in behind Demyan, along with a Suli girl. The Suli girl was surrounded by floating rocks as well. She looked at Inej, and smiled at her. “And now, I would like those gold buttons of yours.” Says the Shu woman.

Inej hastened to remove her own lapel, a dragon and a fox, when the woman stops her. “I’m not talking to you Wraith, I’m talking to Demyan. We had bet that Kaz Brekker would kick him in the balls when he first arrived. I however had gone for a scathing insult. So seems like I won.” She says, and takes the gold buttons that Demyan removed (albeit while grumbling) in her slender hands. “Sankta Yeryin of the Mill, and Sankta Marya of the Rock, I- it’s an honour to meet you.” says Inej, and proceeds to bow more times than she has apologized when she was alive. I am shocked to see the way these so called “saints” milk Inej’s “devotion”. She was the closest thing to a saint that people actually had down in the mortal realm, and I would rather have kicked Demyan in the balls than let Inej bow again. But I restrain myself for the sake of my jaan.

Inej gives two more knives to the women, and stands beside me. She looks like a ridiculous schoolgirl, all giddy as if she had met her favourite aunts, and I catch myself falling in love with her all over again as a dead soul. Demyan soon interrupts my thoughts with that sinuous high-pitched voice, and asks, “I see you’re unusually quite today Dirtyhands. What’s the matter?” “I’m sorry, it’s just I’m wrapping my head around the concept of not existing physically anymore. Also I’ve heard you carry your belongings with you to the afterlife, so where’s all my gold?” I reply. Yeryin chuckles, her slit eyes crinkling while Marya looks at me in disbelief. Her voice, booming like a mountain echo, repeats what she, and countless others back in the mortal world, including my wife, thought each day, “Have you no honour Kaz Brekker?” I just shrug and adjust my hat.

“Anyways, ah, back to the topic at hand.” says Demyan, as he walks towards a tree. No wait, the tree. It could easily be as tall as a mountain. Five springs gush forth from its roots, and a heart is suspended from thorns right in front of a tear in it. The heart with the thorns I remember from the most epic heist of my career, involving legends and the Ravkan monarchy. The tree I do not. Inej asks, “Mind me, O great Saint of the Dead, but could you please acquaint us with our surroundings?” Wow. That’s a lot of vocabulary from a woman whose last sentence, in my memories, is complaining how the medicine she gave me smelled like rat fart. “Oh yup that’s Djel. Or rather his ash tree. Quite popular with my countryfolk.” he says cheerfully. “And we’re here in a mountain in the Sikurzoi, in a different plane of existence. For you, are dead.” he continues, with that ridiculous smile of his. Marya then steps forward, her voice slightly less enthusiastic, giving me the feel that this is all probably quite rehearsed for a while now. “You are a long way from home my loves. Kaz Brekker, you died a natural death. Inej Ghafa, you also died a natural death. Both of you were a hundred and thirteen years old, with Inej dying within a year of your death. The form you have now, is the form you chose to be remembered as.” she says. Yeryin huffs past us, her robes billowing, and hands the buttons over to Demyan, raising up her hand to his face and showing a symbol that quite contradicts with the Saint of Hospitality. “I should have expected such from you, you merchant scum.” she says. She then turns to directly address us and says, “Enough introductions though. The real reason you’ve been brought here is for another reason entirely. You see, the souls of the dead…”

I roll my eyes as the Sankta prepares for another lecture about how our “feeble human brains can’t comprehend the world.” I regret having married Inej in this moment in the afterlife though. Dirtyhands would’ve conned them by now and found a way back to the mortal realm. Kaz Brekker on the other hand, sits on the grass like a five-year old listening a story. Inej sits beside me, her coat now lying beside her in a heap and her hair fluttering open. How I wish I could’ve seen her in the open sea like that.

“…are usually brought to the other sides of the tree.” Yeryin says, waving her hands in an elegant motion to summon up a throne made out of the river pebbles and rocks, confirming that the trio were all, in fact, Fabrikators. “There, they are all assessed in context with their deeds on earth. Everything that they’ve gone through, and everything they’ve done is all taken into account by the Saint of The Book.” She then points to a woman, invisible until this point, sitting near the tree. She bends over a desk, poring over a giant ledger and surrounded by thick books. Her thick blonde hair covered her face, her glasses perched on her wide nose, and her fair, plump skin flushed. “The three of us then decide their fate in the afterlife. Those, who we decide are ‘good’, enjoy the fruits of paradise for a while and then return to the making at the heart of this world. Those, who we deem ‘bad’, are impaled on the thorn wood until they are purged of their sins. They then bathe in one of Djel’s springs, and return back to merzost.”

“Yeah but why are you telling us all of this? We get it, we’re dead, so which way are we going?” I ask the Saints. Inej elbows me once again, scolding me with her eyes. I shrug, and stand up with my cane. “Unless you have something else to tell us, I would like to take your leave. Saints.” I start to walk, when I find myself tripping over. I right myself with my cane just in time, and see that my hands and feet are bound by vines, Demyan’s hands raised up. These saints want a taste of Dirtyhands? Fine. I will show them Dirtyhands.

I see Kaz’s demeanour change. He slips into the familiar garb of Dirtyhands, his eyes cold as flint, lips slightly pursed, standing like the King of the Barrel. I get into a fighting stance, my heavy coat no longer obstructing me. I feel the presence of my remaining knives, regretting handing over the rest. I respect my Saints, but nobody, and I repeat nobody, touches my husband and escapes alive.

Marya stands immovable, her eyes gazing at something in the distance. Yeryin clasps her hands, and states, “You came here at our wish Kaz Brekker. You leave with our wish as well. No need to reach for your knives Wraith they won’t serve you here.” I feel a tug inside me, as if someone is yanking on my leash. Before I know, I am pulled back, my breath knocked out of me, and I crash into a wooden chair. Kaz suffers a similar fate beside me, and I can see his anger barely in check. “Why are you doing this to us?” I ask Marya. She glances at me, her eyes tearful, and replies, “Because we’re tired Inej Ghafa. Because you’re now, the new gods of death.”

Great. We’re the subject of a cruel joke by the Saints and are being tortured for our sins. “We don’t want anything to do with you or your jobs. Just release us and march us over to the thorn wood, I’m ready to answer for my crimes.” “Oh you silly girl, we won’t kill our scapegoats, will we? Isn’t that right my fellow sisters?” Demyan says in his ridiculously cheerful manner. That smile takes me back to the West Stave, Heleen bartering over me with the slavers, her sinuous smile each time I resisted her. I eventually did track my slavers, although only Kaz knows of their fate, for he was the one who insisted on having them. Demyan then comes over to us, and the Saint of Death’s face becomes morose. He kneels in front of us, as if pleading with us, and says, “You see, we’re linked directly with humans and grisha. Death. Hospitality. Pathfinder. Our roles were fundamental to the balance of the world, to the smooth passage of souls and justice in the afterlife. However, seeing the Starless One return back to merzost, seeing Juris merge with the Dragonqueen, has made us realize that we thought impossible, was actually just – improbable. You would certainly know about that, wouldn’t you Dirtyhands?” Demyan glances at Kaz, his eyes moist, while Kaz looks at him unflinchingly. Weren’t the Saints destined to perform their duties? Then why are they looking for scapegoats? Demyan comes back to me, his tone rushed as he blurted out his plan. “We long to be free Inej Ghafa. We too long to return back from where we came. We too long to feel.” Yeryin and Marya then float over to us. “A Saint that dispenses justice, must have suffered injustice to be accurate in his judgements. He should be immovable, yet sensitive to the souls he receives. Kaz Brekker, you have shown us the resilience and fury of a Saint.” Yeryin says. Marya then glances at me, and begins, “Jaan, you’re one of my own people, and so I hold a special place for you. The Saint that is the Reaper, who brings over the souls of the dead, must kill without remorse. Must feel for each soul with all of her heart. She must be indiscriminate in her search.” “And you Inej Ghafa have shown us that heart.” Demyan finishes, clasping my hand. “The part is yours, should you keep it. However, remember, you must take it up with free will, for handling the deceased is a far more tedious and draining task than it sounds.”

I look back at Kaz. His eyes are focussed on the ground, his brain coming up with another wild scheme. I look at the Saints with disbelief. All this time, as I, as millions, prayed to them, honouring their martyrdoms with festivals and prayers, the Saints just longed to be human. Kaz finally speaks after what feels like an eternity. “I have a question. Are the Saints willing to answer that?” “But of course. That is the least we can do for you.” says Yeryin.

“You might’ve come across two souls in your eternal career. Jordie, and Pekka Rollins. What fate awaited them?” I ask hesitantly. I am both excited and afraid of the answer the saints hold for me. Marya looks at the Saint of the Book. She rises, and comes towards us, a small register in her hands. She hands it to Marya, and returns back, giving me a not-so subtle side look. Marya searches for the names I asked, clears her throat, and begins. “Pekka Rollins, the leader of the Dimes, a gang in the streets of Ketterdam, was impaled on the thorn wood. He was purged of all his sins, and then chose to return back to merzost. As for Jordie, your brother, he did not choose to stay for long.” I look back at Marya. “His soul… was tormented. Even though he was healed with the waters of Djel, even though we helped his soul discover his unknown gift as a Grisha Tidemaker, he kept searching this garden for you. In the end, he chose to take a single bite of Djel’s fruit, and returned back to merzost, finally at peace.”

Jordie’s fate stuns me into silence. Pekka Rollins snatched our life on Earth, but even in the gardens of paradise my brother kept searching for me. My vision blurs, my brother’s destiny opening a well of sadness in me, his peaceful return to merzost the only respite offered to him. This was the place where Jordie’s soul searched for me. Where he waited and waited for me, until he dissolved back into the heart of the world. And this is where I would choose to stay for eternity, the only place that holds my brother’s peace. I look at Marya, and nod.

Beside me, Inej grasps my hand, and smiles. She then looks down at Demyan, and says, “We will take up the mantel of your duties, O Revered Saints.” I roll my eyes. It’s as if Sturmhond’s vocabulary worms it’s way into Inej’s brain each time she talks to her saints.

The saints all look at each other, then smile and open their arms. “Our powers, are then yours, Wraith and Dirtyhands.” Golden rays, the colour of sundried wheat and barley emit from Yeryin. Ink black waves surge from Demyan while a shower of dirt erupts from Marya. The three slowly disappear, probably to a much better place. The knives Inej gave to them clatter on the ground.

Inej picks up her coat, dusts it off, and shrugs it on. She picks up her knives, touching them to her forehead, and wipes them on her sleeve. “So what do we now?” she asks me. “Well we’re here for eternity, alone, at least till you go off to bring our souls. Let’s have some fun.” I say and suggestively smirk. The Saint of the Book widens her eyes in horror as she looks at us. “Oh keep it in your pants, you perv.” I say, as I give a big shout and run towards the gentle slope along the riverbank, Inej’s soft padded boots following me, as we both tumble into each other and hurtle to the earth.

#soc #six of crows #kaz #inej #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #dirtyhands #the wraith #wraith #leigh bardugo #kanej fic #story time #vasu #sankt demyan of the rime #sankta yeryin of the mill #sankta marya of the rock #grishaverse

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