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hughesyodaddy43 · 2 days

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Just maybe ⎸ N.H

Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader genre: friends to lovers Warnings: swearing, fluff synopsis: when a hopeless romantic doesn't pick up on hints. word count: 2.3k authors note: first Nico fic! i hope you like it. Requests are open. missing the devils rn :(

Nico, Nico, Nico was all your mind would wander to, from late nights to early mornings your mind was crowded with the thought of him.

From every text to every lingering touch your heart ached for him.

Him.

The captain of the New Jersey devils.

Him.

The Swiss man who lives across the hall from you.

Him and his cute accent.

Him and the way his eyes light up when he smiles.

Him. Nico Hischier.

This was never new to you, love that is or more so how easily you love. Ever since you were young your mind and body was plagued by the thought of romance. You knew you were a hopeless romantic, how could you not be? Growing up you craved having love like in the movies. Was this the reason for your many heartbreaks? yes .

After every heartbreak your craving for love grew stronger, wanting to be held and kissed and loved just like you do, being cared for the way you care for others.

Unfortunately as of right now the only romantic tropes that had come to life for you was unrequited love. Living in the shadows of someone else's love and loss.

Nico knew about your love for romance movies, he knew you so well and it hurt you knowing that he would never love you the same way you love him. But your mind couldn't help but wonder, just maybe. What if he liked you back?

Just maybe did the tighter squeeze of his hugs mean something? could the way he plays your favourite songs whenever he is driving you somewhere be a sign? Could the way he holds your hand when moving through large crowds be a hint to something more? Or is it when he always sends you a good morning text when he wakes up?

Perhaps, just maybe did he love you back?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw your phone screen light up on your kitchen bench. You place down your warm cup of coffee and reach to read whatever it was that lit your phone up bright. A sigh left your lips when you read the notification, revealing that it wasn't from Nico. you were so far gone, the thought of replying to other people sometimes felt daunting or annoying but replying to nico felt light and effortless. Like you could talk to him for ever and ever without running out of things to say or feeling uncomfy.

Instead the notification was from tinder, your pathetic attempt at getting over the hockey player was to surround yourself with other equally attractive men.

However that was not the case, whatever dates you'd go on you couldn't keep your mind away from Nico. no man in your eyes was as good as him. The thought of anyone else felt foreign whereas Nico felt warm and homey.

Most of the dates you went on were unfavourable and rather unpleasant. You never were one for quick hookups due to your very annoying habit of catching feelings so fucking your way out of this slump was not an option for you, despite your girlfriends suggesting so.

You pull yourself back out of your trance when you receive a text message from your best friend, Stacie - regarding your plans for breakfast this morning. You pause for a second, reading the time that displays in the top corner of your phone, answering swiftly to confirm your whereabouts and ETA.

You turn your speaker on and press shuffle on your playlist, attempting to drown your thoughts as you get ready for the day.

You finish up your makeup and manoeuvre your way back around to the front door, grabbing your bag and filling it with whatever junk you may possibly need incase of a very uncommon emergency.

You walk out into the hallway, locking your door tightly. You turn around and are met with big brown eyes you have grown very familiar with. He sends you a warming smile, in turn making your lips curl into an unintentional smile. Your cheeks burn up as you step forward towards the tall swiss hockey player, meeting him on the other side of the hallway.

“Hey!” you speak, hoping to disguise your excitement.

“Hello” nico respondes, tucking his keys into his pocket. “Where are you off to?” he adds, shifting his weight from his foot to the wall, leaning against it.

“Gonna go meet stacie at the cafe down the street for breakfast, you?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, still smiling embarrassingly wide. “Morning practice, which i was gonna ask if you were coming to the game tonight?” he asks, smiling slightly, causing his dimples to appear.

His eyes god his eyes, sparkling under the light, staring deeply into your own.

“Of course I am! Wouldn't miss it, especially when I get special treatment from the captain.” you say, lightly punching his arm. Nico laughs, redirecting himself to stand up straight, “anything for you” he answers with a wink, turning his body towards the elevator. You stand there for a second, trying to stop yourself from turning completely red.

Nico waits for you to walk with him towards the elevator, the two of you slipping comfortably into a natural conversation.

You make it to the front of the apartment building, ending the intriguing conversation about playoff hockey and whatnot.

“Do you need a quick ride? I don't mind driving you?” Nico asks, stepping towards you.

“Nah, I'll be okay to walk. Thank you tho” you reply.

Nico nods and goes in for a hug only to be turned down by you rejecting the advance to turn it into a simple fist bump, cringing at yourself for the gesture. Nico looked a bit stunned at the rejection but shakes it off with a light chuckle, returning the fist bump.

“I'll see you at the game, Schatzi” Nico says, turning to walk towards the car park. You stand there for a second, running your hand through your hair “what the fuck was that? A fist bump??” you mutter under your breath before being interrupted by your phone ringing

“Hello?”

“Hurry up.” the phone call abruptly ends, putting two and two together you register that the unknown caller was stacie asking you to get your ass to the cafe.

You walk down the street,enjoying the sun that has peeked out through the clouds. You admire the atmosphere that surrounds the sidewalk, passing your way through the crowds and delicate shops placed around the streets.

Unfortunately for you all you could think about was Nico and his stupid cute dimples and his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid big brown eyes.

You find your way to the cafe, meeting Stacie at the outdoor seats.

“Finally you show up, I thought you died” Stacie says, standing up to hug you, her long Auburn hair tied half up, neatly falling just away from her face.

“Got caught up, sorry” you apologies, sitting down across from the girl. “From mr dimples i hope” she teases, sipping her pre- ordered latte with a smirk. I roll my eyes away from her, snickering. “Oh my god, it was him wasn't it?” her big eyes widened at the realisation. You don’t reply, simply smiling to yourself, playing with your fingers in your lap.

“Well you can tell me when your drink gets here, i got you a mocha since you were too late to order for yourself” Stacie chides. “Thanks Stac, you're too kind” you joke.

Your drink comes and the two of you order your food. Stacie looks at you with a playful smile, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands “so..what did you two talk about?” she chimes. “Just..hockey or whatever” you shrug. “Mhm” her lips curl into a smirk “you should just tell him you like him” “what?no no i can't, we are just friends.” i defend.

If almost pre planned your phone vibrates on the table, revealing a very suggestive message from Nico

Nico: can’t wait to see you tonight ;)

“What was that?” stacie questions, raising her eyebrow “can't wait to see you tonight? Hmm seems a little too friendly if you ask me” she mocks “its nothing, i'm going to his game tonight.” you beat off.

“Listen, you've loved him pretty much since you've met him, call him a friend or whatever but I know how friends act and trust me, he likes you for sure. I mean you've been on so many dates with other guys to get over him and how many of them have actually been successful?” she monologues, pausing to take a bite of her fresh banana bread.

“Trust me, he doesn’t think about me like that” you tally. “Well I'm just saying , you only live once and if you can't get over him then you might as well confess to him. At least if he rejects you then you can get closure and move on'' she states, once again leaving you speechless for a few seconds. She starts up once again after reading your worn expression.

“I've seen the way he looks at you yk?” your eyes meet hers “how does he look at me?” you question, confusing, staying evident in your expression. “Like he never wants to look away” she reveals. Once again sipping on her drink.

“Hmmm I mean i've never seen anyone else around his place, and when we go out he doesn't really talk to any other girls.” you recall “ exactly, just give it a go. It's not like the world will end.” she finishes before swiftly changing the subject to one of her new boy toys of the month.

‘The world won't end’ you suppose the world won't end in the literal sense but what if he stops talking then it might as well end. It's dramatic but your whole day revolves around even the smallest thought of nico.. What are you even supposed to think about otherwise?

surely just maybe he might like you, granted that everything stacie says is true, perhaps you should take your shot sooner than later.

Your heart beats steadily as you arrange your hair in half up pigtails, wrapping the hair tie with red and white ribbon. You unfortunately didn't have a jersey for this game so instead you decided to sport a white tank top with a red sweater in support of the devils.

Once again your mind grows to Nico, the excitement of seeing him runs through your veins. You were never nervous or anxious to be around nico, if anything you felt safer and warmer around him, that is except now. The weight of what sense Stacie knocked into you really stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but wonder if you should confess and if it's even a good decision.

Your worries are cut short when you look at the time and quickly make your way to the front door, checking yourself out in the mirror one last time before slipping your shoes on and making your way to the prudential centre.

You walk into the arena, finding your seat comfortably in the stands, watching the warmups. Nico had asked you to meet him before the game. He said that he wanted to see you. After warmups you make your way to the hallway that leads out onto the ice, waiting patiently for nico to come see you.

He makes his way towards you, standing directly in front of you. He stands there, waiting for you to snap out of whatever trance your mind has put you in. your fiddling with your fingers, staring at your shoes, picking at your nails lightly.

“You shouldn't pick at your nails” Nico says, reaching out to hold your hand. His voice pulls you out and startles you, you jump and flinch your hands away from him.

“Woah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” he apologises, eyes filled with remorse as he looks down at you. “No it's okay, just didn't realise you were there” you console, letting him reach for your hands once again, this time not flinching back. It's at this point that the other teammates are making their way back out to start the game. “When is the game gonna start?” you ask

“in a few minutes” he replies “just wanted to see you before it started” he adds, leaving you, standing there without a word “hey, what's going on inside that pretty head of yours?” he asks, bending down to read your face, his voice is calm and steady.

A sudden surge of confidence overwhelms you.

Fuck it.

You lean upwards, moving your body closer to his to attach your lips onto his. He is taken by surprise but it's not long before he shakes his glove off of his hand and reaches out to take hold of the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper.

You pull yourself away with a sharp inhale of air, nico face falling in a frown as you pull away.

“I like you.” you confess.

Nico stares at you, lips curling into a smile, his dimples becoming defined upon his cheeks.

“Yeah, I noticed.” he says, lowering his head back down to kiss your cheek.

Nico simply winks and jogs away towards the ice, looking back with a wide smile and blushed cheeks. The loud hollers and chirps are heard from the other devils players as they disappear through the doorway and onto the ice.

You make your way back to the stands, sitting down and watching the boys skate around , Nico playing perfectly as always. With best efforts, the game ends in a tight win, in favour of the devils. The crowd makes their way out of the arena and you're met with one more message from nico.

Nico: Meet me in the parking lot after the game, my car is parked around the corner. I'd like to take you to dinner if you're up for it?

Your face lights up, a smile breaking out, you bite your lip as you answer a yes, making your way towards his car.

Maybe.

Just maybe…

He does love you back.

#nico hischier #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nico hischer x reader #nj devils #new jersey devils #friends to lovers

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sharkneto · 3 months

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did you ever watch fargo? it has similar story beats to true detective, at least, season one (it’s another anthology type series, crime focused) there’s a dude in there who i think you’d get a kick out out of… very much quietly intensely batshit insane and Off™️ but somehow presents himself as the sanest one in the room. he’s rust cohle, in a way, but murderer, not detective

Thanks for the rec! Watched S1 over the past week or so. Was good but it frustrated me. Billy Bob Thornton Serial Killer was the highlight, you were right! He was very fun. What a weirdo.

I don't know if it was that I grew up in an area with accents like theirs so I was like, hyper aware They Are Doing An Accent, or that it was based on Coen Brother's work, but a lot of the characters felt... rather like caricatures? I don't know, something about it had a wall between me and it, where I wasn't immersed so they felt like We Are Actors On A Set Delivering Lines Really Well rather than I was in the moment, if that makes any sense. Maybe it was the monologues, Flannigan series can have the same affect to me.

Still, was a really good cast. I needed Martin Freeman to get his comeuppence like three episodes sooner, my god that man could just wiggle out of everything (SPOILER he sent his wife to get shot???? what the fuck is wrong with him. I was screaming SPOILER OVER). I always like it when Colin Hanks pops up in things. Allison Tolman and Billy Bob Thornton fucking carried the whole thing, they were the only two I didn't really get the I Am Delivering Lines With Emotion And This Thick Minnesotan Accent feeling.

Writing was generally tight, too. Good full circle moments and Chekov's guns, pieces came together in satisfying ways. Was fun to be rooting for Molly to catch her killers and for Billy Bob to fucking get Martin Freeman. I think it could have been one episode shorter, or skipped the time jump, to give the police a modicum more competence, they were killing me.

Idk if I'll watch the other seasons, I did enjoy it overall. Might check out the newest one because I'm a slut for Jon Hamm.

#i'm hit or miss on coen brothers so this feels fitting that i was both hit and miss on this #i wonder if i wasn't so familiar with the accent if i would have felt differently about the acting #because i think the accent pushed some slight overacting #and i just happen to be familiar with the subtleties and midwest niceness that lurks underneath those big nasally sounds #to feel like things weren't lining up quite right #that said i super enjoyed the accents lol #my wisconsin accent has calmed down over the years since i've been away but it's not *gone*#so i always enjoy a little dip back in - little wave back at my roots #anyway anon - thanks again for the rec!#sharkneto speaks #ask response #oh my god i almost forgot!!#the surprise kate walsh!#she came on and i was like ''i know you who are you''#and then she gave a condescending laugh and it tripped my recognition for her ''you're kate walsh!!! :D'' she's always fun #i'm back to ramble more down here #i think my favorite Midwest Content is an episode of This American Life #where the entire episode is dedicated to the story of these two girls in tiny town wisconsin who got switched at birth #and on of the mothers knew and never said anything because she didn't want to Cause Problems or embarrass the doctor who made the mistake #i sent it to all my non-wisconsin friends like ''this right here is exactly what small town wisco is like this is what i grew up in'' lol

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bug-is-snug · 3 months

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starved pt. 2

part one

plot: you're a zombie <3 CW: depictions of violence, depictions of obsession, gore, self-cannibalism (stay safe cutiepies!), blood, gore, eventual smut (That means Minors DO NOT INTERACT), self harm (I think? I'm not sure but I'm adding it to be safe!), military inaccuracies, dead dove do not eat kinds of stuff

A/N: let me know if I missed anything with the content warnings! Also please forgive me for the terrible accents, I am but a small humble person with the brain made of v8 juice- Also some of this was written on mobile so forgive me if there are any grammar errors ^^; banner by: @frostthecupcake (deactivated) and found by using "Find A Banner"

You felt your face grow warm as your mind went back to the sight of your Captain's wrist. Well- mainly his veins...God, he had lovely veins... You imagined grabbing his arm and sinking your teeth in, tearing away at his skin and tendons with gnashing teeth...while you daydreamt you couldn't help but wonder; How sweet would his flesh taste? Shaking your head profusely, you let out a huff and continued to head off towards the barracks while ignoring the emptiness in your stomach. God, you could feel the blood running down your throat, warming you far better than any hard alcohol... "Stop it." You hissed quietly to yourself, as if you had any control over the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind, "Don't think at all, just shut up!"

Taking a moment, you lean up against the wall and desperately try to gather your thoughts. Your stomach growled almost angrily, making you let out a frustrated groan. "Hungry?" A familiar voice cooed playfully, their Scottish accent giving away their identity instantly. You look up to see Soap, your heart instantly beginning to race. Your eyes scanned over his body while your nose took in his scent, which allowed you to recognize that he had just gotten back from the shooting range, the smell of his musk and the gunpowder making your head swim. "Uh-" Christ, you sounded dumb, "Maybe? I dunno, I kinda skipped lunch today...though I do hear that your body can make you hungry when you're exhausted so- uh- maybe it's that?" ...WHAT? Where did that even come from?! What kind of stupid excuse is that?! Soap raised a brow, staring at you for a moment and giving away that he was also just as bewildered as you were over the shit you just said. "...I am going over here now." You quickly walked around him, attempting to make it to your room. "Hold on now, that dinnae make a lick o' sense. What's goin' on wi' ye?" A strong, calloused hand grasped at your forearm making your heart jump to your throat, "Ye alright, lovie?" You shuddered slightly, digging your nails into your palms as thoughts of tearing your precious teammate’s ribs apart and sinking your teeth into his heart while it still beats made you feel dizzy and your stomach ache. What would it taste like? Sweet? Savory? How much would you be able to devour before someone else stumbles upon the sight? You quickly interrupted your own thoughts as you blurted out, "I think I'm sick is all." Soap hummed and reached over, pressing his hand against your forehead. "Ye dinnae feel sick, ye feel cold to be honest, lovie..." He muttered. "Sarge-" You were cut off by his hands feeling up the scruff of your neck and under your jaw. "Sorry, mate. My mum used to do this to check if me or my siblings were sick..." His voice was low, as if he trying not to spook an injured animal. "Sarge, I'm fine, honest-!" You tried to reason with him. You knew he was telling you the truth, but you also knew how he was. To clarify, while the relationship between you and Soap was rather handsy it was usually a welcome action and when it wasn't, you would tell him and he would back off. The touches the two of you would share sometimes bordered on inappropriate, but it often didn't go much further than that. It was a very intimate relationship, one that could be missed if someone didn't have a trained eye. However, it wasn't quite romantic...just intimate and sometimes intense-

Looking into his eyes, you could tell that while he was indeed just checking up on you, there was a small sense of enjoyment at the fact you were letting him casually paw at your sensitive skin. You let out a soft hiss in pain when he pressed down on a particularly tender spot, "Johnny, too hard..." "Sorry, lovie..." Soap said quietly, letting go after a moment. "It's okay..." You assured him, "What's the prognosis, Doctor MacTavish?" He chuckled at your teasing and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, "Yer feelin' a bit stiff is all. Probably from yer god-awful posture." "Then I am going to do what I was planning to do and go take a nap. I should probably tell Gaz...I was gonna eat lunch with him today..." You said, disappointment heavy in your voice. "I can tell 'im fer you, lovie. Dinnae ye worry yer little head ‘bout it." Soap smiled, reaching over and giving you an affectionate pat on the shoulder. A sigh left your lips as you gave him a relieved smile, "You'd really do that for me? Thank you, Johnny..." He smiled back, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder. "Yer welcome..." You playfully nudged his arm with your elbow which made him chuckle and give you a wink before he walked around you, leaving you on your own as you finally made it to your room. You remembered the last time you retreated to your room when feeling unwell while you stared at your bed, closing your door behind you. It was a few days after the attack... Your body felt like it was on fire, especially where that damn doctor had bitten you. Your heart raced and your arm felt like your veins had poison coursing through them. You had refused to let anyone know, nor let anyone take care of you going as far as to barricade the door. Stupid? Yes, but what were you supposed to do? Let the teammates whom you trust your life with every single day know you're unwell? Ask them for help because they're your found family and you would drop everything to take care of them if they were in this state because you love and cherish them as people? Cringe- You groaned in pain, curling up in your little bed while digging your nails into the fabric, tearing them effortlessly much to your surprise. "What the fuck?" You huffed out, grimacing as you stare at the ruined sheets, "I just bought those..." Was that what you should have been worried about? Absolutely not, but you have to cope somehow. The pain was unbearable, but the worst of it was the fever and the fever dreams that came along with them. Well, you called them fever dreams; they actually appeared in your mind when you were awake. And most of them were really just...urges... Visions of ripping people apart filled your mind. It felt so real...you could feel your fingers digging into some faceless person's skin, tearing apart their flesh and ripping apart their ribs while they screamed and thrashed. The more skeptical part of your mind shoved it off as just an edgy little thought that you had as a courtesy of watching so many horror movies with Gaz, just a silly little spout of aggression. No, it was the thought of eating the person that got you to worry. It was the thought of burying your face into their warm body and sinking your teeth into their heart that scared you. The worst part of it was the fact that your stomach growled every time you imagined chewing and swallowing, like a forbidden fruit... Blood spilling down your chin like you had just bit into an apple after days of neglecting your hunger became a feeling you craved desperately. "Please just be a really fucked up version of the flu..." You whispered, "I swear to everything that is good and holy if it's not-" You were interrupted by a sudden sharp pain in your stomach, making you cry out. Burying your face into your pillow, you let out a quiet sob while you clung to it. Somehow, you felt embarrassed about how much pain you felt. You've taken bullets for fuck's sake! You have broken bones, dislocated joints-! And a little stomachache is making you cry?!

"What the fuck...?" You muttered, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Upon seeing the literal puddle of it in your hand you cringed, “Mm…that’s nasty…”

Sitting up, you use the headboard of your bed to keep you steady while your head pounds and begs you to lay back down. You huff, leaning your head against your arm for a moment. This fucking sucks. There is no denying it!

Your nose is pressed against your flesh, and you catch a whiff of yourself…Oh my…

Your stomach beckons you, and in that moment, you don’t even care. How can you? You’re starving!

So…

Without a second thought…

You sink your teeth into your wrist with a sickening squelch, tearing through veins and muscle. And, God, if it didn’t taste lovely…

Back To Current Day…

You sit down on your bed, running your fingers over the stitching you had done over the once torn sheets. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough!

With a sigh, you lean against the wall, staring at the ceiling as you reach over and gently touch your forearm, your fingertips sliding across the edge of the bandage. You didn’t really want to check if the wound was still there…but you didn’t want it to get infected either.

Your eyes glance down as you kicked off your shoes, scooting into your bed while your hand slowly peeled the bandaid off. You expected infection…a festering, pulsing and pus filled one…however, there was nothing. Your wrist was completely healed, like nothing happened-! How…?

You shake your head as hard as you can, as if it would shake the thoughts away. You ball the bandaid up and go to the trashcan, tossing it before going to your sink and rinsing your hands off. This isn’t so bad, right? It’s- er- not ideal, but it’s something! Maybe you should keep a journal of your changes- No. Too risky. If anyone found it…

Your eyes closed as you lean against the counter, inhaling through your nose while your leg bounce uncomfortably, “I can’t see a doctor…I really should but-! …What if I hurt someone…?”

You found yourself doing that a lot; whispering to yourself, fighting yourself…etc…

But that’s neither here nor there, it’s time to eat.

You started to head to your mini fridge, kneeling down before it and opening it up to take a package of raw meat out. You tear it open with your finger, feeling yourself begin to shake…

Shoveling raw meat into your mouth was not a good feeling. Did it scratch that lizard part of your brain? Yes. But social norms taught you to be disgusted with such bad manners-! However…as you sunk your teeth into the raw chicken breast, you ripped and tore away at it, feeling yourself grow more and more ravenous as it you continued. It tasted pretty okay for the most part, which is what surprised you the most.

Tasted like chicken, obviously, but the raw flavor added to it somehow? It was so hard to describe! But…then those thoughts came…

You were imaging the meat belonging to Soap, your beloved teammate. You felt so dirty and perverted…

‘This isn’t normal,’ You reminded yourself, ‘This is NOT. NORMAL!’

You didn’t even realize someone else had entered your room until they cleared their throat, making you snap your attention to whomever it was.

Oh shit.

#bug sure is snug in this rug #141 x reader #task force 141 #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #poly 141 #john soap mctavish x reader #zombie au #zombie reader #john price #141 au #cod 141

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bagdaddyb · 7 months

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Hi!! Oh my gosh seeing you posting again was such a huge joy and surprise for me I’m so glad to read your new work!!!

I was wondering if you could write a wanda maximoff x fem!reader ABO fic where either Wanda or reader are new to the team with a whole bunch of pining where they eventually figure out that they are each others mate? You can make either Wanda or reader alpha/omega!

It’s super okay if you aren’t feeling this request, either way I’m so excited to read more of the amazing work you share with us!!!

Hiiiii! So I got super carried away with this and I originally intended for this to be mean emo Wanda but sweet soft Wanda took over, I hope you enjoy! 💗

Pairing: alphag!p Wanda x omega fem! spyReader

Warning: Sickeningly Sweet, 18+ MINOR DNI NSFW NSFW

AN: Wanda 🥰

You'd only been on the team for a year when the mess with Ultron happened. It all happened so fast, you could barely process everything happening around you before something new would arise. Sitting across from Natasha sipping coffee as you spied on the twin alphas you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks. Natasha kept glancing their way while your focus stayed on her, two people staring was more suspicious than one. You and the red head proved to be a good team over the past year. Two omega spies flying under everyones radar. The world still assumed the Black Widow a one woman show and no one would ever believe her to be an omega. The breeze felt nice on your back, bringing a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear before looking down at your coffee.

"This has been a real shit show eh?"

Your voice held a familiar accent one you'd grown used to using under your many aliases. Natasha's eyes returned to you as she sipped her own drink.

"Not anymore than usual."

You hummed in response eyes wondering to the innocent civilians around you. Sipping your own cup you wonder if life would be better among them. Oblivious to the realities of the world to caught up in your own day to day menial task. The weight of this job seemed to weigh a bit heavier on your shoulders everyday, the question of wether the people you save amounts to the people you don't plaguing.

"S toboy vse v poryadke?" (Are you alright?)

The red head ask and you nod eyes returning to hers.

"Tired, it seems everytime we try to relax something detrimental in the world happens. I wonder what it would do without us."

A small chuckle escapes Natasha despite the truth in your words, her eyes shooting to the pair on her right once more. Though not a 'graduate' of the red room you hold your own tramatic story. Experimented on in the basement of Oscorp for years you'd been turned into a lab rat by the corpo bastards that owned the building. You'd escaped only three years ago, changed. Transformed into a human machiene, non-aging, ridiculously strong with a sirens song. You did the only thing you could and played the cards you were delt. Seducing mediocre alphas out of millions before any one even got a whiff of your existence but you could truly only thank Natasha for that. It wasn't until Natasha was taken down but the Black Widow kept striking that shield realized there was more than met the eye. It was Tony himself that went undercover to catch you and honestly had he not been an Avenger with intel he would of ended up caught himself. Another rich egotistical alpha who thought himself on top of the world. You didn't go down easy and spent a week in a cell before even uttering a word. In retrospect it all seems silly now you often think about how much time you wasted fighting the people who wanted nothing more than to help you. Eyes lifting to Natasha's face you can't help but feel greatful for the opportunity she's given you to help others like you.

"They're on the move."

You hum in acknowledgment before finishing off your drink mind finally wondering to the matter at hand. Your mission was recruitment nothing more. Ultron having been made unreasonably strong by the twins he somehow came to be in alliance with. You'd gained enough information merely listening in on their conversation, so you and Natasha retreated returning to the group in order to solidify your advances. Standing in time with Natasha you link your arm in hers smiling before chatting away about absolutely nothing in russian. Missing the way a certain alpha glanced your way when your scent drifted down wind. It only took twenty four hours for everything to go to shit almost a record breaker in your books. Ultron whineded up to be nothing after the male alpha was nere fatally injured the red headed woman taking care of him like clockwork. Luckily your team stood nearby able to quickly extract the alpha towards safety and medical attention. You worked efficiently getting him secured before moving to help the rest of your team fight off Ultron's bots and it isn't until the end when you stand with the support of Thor that you realize the red headed alpha had come with you. Returning to the compound there is tension on the quinjet. The group unsure what to do with the twin alphas who quite literally just tried to murder them and it causes you to roll your eyes.

"You could at least not talk about them as if they aren't right there."

You scold before moving towards the pair. The red head having been unmoving crouched over her unconscious brother.

"Privet." (Hello.)

You say making yourself known as you approach the alpha causing her to glance up at you.

"On dolzhen polnost'yu vyzdorovet'." (He should make a full recovery.)

You speak in a whisper trying to be soft.

"YA uveren, chto on ne khotel by, chtoby vy bespokoilis'." (I'm sure he wouldn't want you to worry.)

The woman merely returns her eyes to the unconscious man below her.

"Will you lock us up? Treat us once again like dogs?"

Your eyebrows raise and your posture straightens.

"No of course not, everyone deserves a second chance. You believed you were fighting for the right thing, there are many on this team who have been in a similar circumstance. Do not believe simply because we are labeled supergeroi that none of us have a dark past." (Superheroes)

With that you take your leave allowing the woman to be with her loved one. Upon returning to the compound you go into seclusion, you needed a break both mentally and physically. Just a few days where the world wasn't ending and it was entirely up to you to save it. Six days later you emerge slightly re-energized and fresh ready for the next catastrophe. The first place you visit is the gym already hearing Natasha's scolding on breaking your routine as you pass the common room you see the two twins on the couch alone. In this light you see them both clearly, while they hold the title twin they couldn't look more different. You study them both your eyes lingering on the red head. She was an attractive alpha, very attractive. You hear the tv playing but don't recognize the program they have on. Detouring into the room you catch their attention waving as you approach.

"Hello, I am rather embarrassed to say we never formally met. I am (Y/N) nice to meet you both."

You bow your head in greeting sending them a bright smile and both of them seem to freeze obviously caught off guard by your friendly approach. The male recovers first standing up before bowing his head back and sticking out his hand.

"Pietro, and that is my sestra Wanda."

You recognize his accent reaching to grip his hand in yours.

"A pleasure, I hope you two are adjusting well."

It isn't until then his sister jumps up a slight flush on her cheeks.

"It has been familiar, we are rather alienated but that is how it has always been."

You hum in response fighting back the disappointment in your expression.

"Don't fret, we are a group of antisocial extroverts forced to be in a group setting. Well expect for Tony but it just takes us all time to engage and meet new people, they will come around before long."

You finish with a smile.

"Have you two at least been taken care of? Food, water, lodging?"

They nod simultaneously and its enough for you.

"Good well I'm off to the gym, don't be strangers."

With that you leave not taking note of the full face flush on the woman's face.

"Kto-nibud' nashel svoyu sestru-omegu?" (Has someone found their omega sister?)

Pietro says in a teasing tone and Wanda punches him in the shoulder muttering at him to shut up. The moment you cross the threshold of the gym you flinch.

"Nu posmotrite, kto eto." (Well look who it is.)

"Can we skip past the part where you scold me so I can just apologize?"

You ask turning to meet Natasha's sharp gaze.

"Will your muscles magically regain their mass?"

"No."

You sigh accepting your defeat beginning to stretch as Natasha begins her speech on commitment. It is another four days before everyone finally comes around to the twins slotting them in as if theyed been there since the beginning just as they had you. Walking towards the gym you release a content sigh, a full ten days since the world seemed as though it'd collapse. What bliss. Quickly looking up your eyes fantically search for some wood unwilling to risk jinxing yourself.

"Dobroye utro." (Good morning.")

You hear from behind turning to be greeted by Wanda.

"Good morning indeed. Off for your morning cuppa are you?"

You ask and Wanda merely nods in response fighting back a yawn.

"Not a morning person?"

You ask with a smile walking beside Wanda.

"Not at all."

She says somewhat grumpily.

"Then what are you doing up at six a.m?"

You ask with a laugh and Wanda has to fight back a blush. She couldn't admit that she woke up at this time merely to see you every morning but what could she say.

"I like to cook but I'm not very good at it.... so I practice early before the others wake up."

The words spill out of her mouth quickly unable to think of anything better and you beam your white smile at her.

"Well how about tomorrow you sleep in till eight then I can help you learn, I am an amazing cook. I even know how to make some traditional dishes."

Wanda can't help the flush that comes to her face this time and it makes you feel a tingle inside.

"Okay."

The red head responds and you nod giving her arm a little reassuring squeeze as you come upon the kitchen.

"Good luck dorogoy." (Dear)

You say before continuing onto the gym and Wanda is sure her face matches her hair. Sure enough the next morning Wanda doesn't head towards the kitchen instead she spends the morning pacing her room anxiety ridden. You'd said for her to sleep in but how could she when you agreed to spend alone time with her. She couldn't tell Pietro and deal with his repeated teasing so she kept the information in slowly but surely having a meltdown. As she paced she played with her hair, bit her finger, twiddled her thumbs. God she couldn't do this. She'd literally been an experiment for Hydra and never felt this nervous in her life. The time passed quickly. To quickly. Right as she truly began to spiral there was a knock at her door, eyes shooting to the clock she realizes its already eight o'clock. Brushing off her clothes quickly before taking a few deep breaths and recuperating she opens her door. The moment her eyes land on you it all seems for naught, your hair is tied back. You wear tights and a tshirt covered by an apron. Your eyes spakle matched by your bright smile and Wanda feels herself melt a bit.

"I figured you'd meet me in the kukhnya." (Kitchen)

You say with a giggle and Wanda becomes a tomato realizing its not only eight but eight eleven.

"I'm sorry I slept in and lost all track of time."

You hum with a smile clearly not mad at all before turning to be on your way.

"All is fine I just didn't want to start without you."

Wanda follows behind you closing her door quickly. Her eyes wonder your body not being able to help staring at your ass.

"Ty slushayesh'?" (Are you listening?)

Wanda's eyes shoot up attention back on your voice.

"I asked what your favorite dish is."

"Oh um I love traditional pirozhki, my mother used to make them just slightly burnt at the edges. The taste reminds me of home."

You turn and smile softly her way.

"Perfect then that's what we will make, cooking can seem overwhelming but it isn't as scary as many think. I always recommend learning to cook for yourself first because it is much easier than cooking for others."

In the kitchen you gather the suppiles, you cooked often so the ingredients for this dish were easily found.

"I'll have you make the dough, it is all simply measurements so I'll do no more than verbal instructions."

You say as you prepare the area for Wanda.

"Here put this on, gotta protect your clothes and tie your hair back no one wants hair in their food."

Handing the apron to Wanda while standing by waiting. You bite your lip as you watch her. Running her fingers through silky red locks before pulling it up exposing her neck to you. She wore grey sweatpants and a baggy t. The sweatpants doing little to hide the member between her legs and you press your thighs together pleasurably. Wanda on the other hand was trying to think about how to see this lie through. She was an amazing cook, taking the responsibility of her brother from a young age. How was she going to play clueless. She should of at least said a dish she truly wasn't aware of how to make but when you asked her favortie food she couldn't help but answer honestly. You talked Wanda through the steps praising her for being a natural when the dough came out well. Leaving it to make the filling.

"What did your mom fill hers with? I do a simple meat and rice mixture since it goes along with my bulk."

Wanda nods along as she listens debating a moment before responding.

"Lets make them like yours, I've never had them any other way and I'd be eager to try."

You smile brightly at the alpha before nodding in response. Again you talk her through it always believing hands on with clear instruction was the best way to learn any skill. It gave the student mutiple ways to intake the information and made it harder to forget. Once the process is complete you help Wanda cut and stuff the dough, this part of the process being the longest and most tedious. You leave her to fry them as she likes since she'd mentioned her mom let them cook a bit longer and instead move to clean around her. Never a fan of a messy workspace. You hum as you clean, mindlessly really. It seems a tune that always floats around you. One Wanda is sure she's heard you hum before. By the time Wanda is done cooking you've cleaned the kitchen and are able to sit down and enjoy the meal with her. Of course the moment doesn't last and before either of you can even take a bite the smell of food draws in hungry Avengers.

"Mne vsegda nravitsya, kogda ty gotovish'." (I always love when you cook.)

Natasha says entering first, the smell of traditional food equivalent to a cat with its automatic feeder. Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Sam all slowly trickle in after stomachs growling audibly making you laugh.

"I suppose if I didn't cook every once in a while no one would eat around here hmmm?"

The group shares a laugh as they line up one by one to make plates.

"But in all honesty this meal is thanks to Wanda not me, I merely talked her through the steps."

Wanda can't hide the pink that dust her cheeks and all is going well until a certain twin walks in.

"Pirozhki! You always cook the best food sestra."

The blonde kisses his sisters head as he passes by and you can't help the eyebrow that raises in response.

"Always hmmm?"

You hum and Wanda is saved by the entrance of Thor who could of eaten the entire helping had he got here first.

"Mighty (Y/N) your meals are always most invigorating."

You smile at the God and try not laugh when you see his downcast face once he realizes he is the last one to show. Wiping your face after you finish you excuse yourself it was already nearing noon and you still hadn't even looked at the moutain of paperwork on your desk. Wanda watches you go. Over the next three weeks you and Wanda grow closer she begins training with you and Natasha in the mornings and you read with her sometimes in the afternoons, you don't question her about Pietro's comment after your cooking fiasco and Wanda never says anything about it because that woukd mean admitting to you that she was desperate to spend time with you.

"Soo?"

Natasha ask as the two of you jog around the gardens. It was early afternoon in fall, the cool winds combating your rising body heat making the jog enjoyable.

"Nothing."

"Yebat' will she ever make a move?" (Fuck)

You merely shrug.

"I don't know, I'll start showing signs of heat by the end of the week if that doesn't trigger her there's no hope."

Natasha laughs at that.

"Tak khochetsya al'fu, da?" (So eager for an alpha eh?)

"Not just any alpha, Wanda."

The week passes slowly and as the weekend gets closer your pheromones get stronger. The team knew your heat was approaching as they kept a calander for the Alphas so they could know when to distance, well everyone except Wanda apparently. Its Thursday night by the time she's had enough of your distance and decides to ask why you aren't at the table for dinner with the rest of the team.

"Where's (Y/N), I swear I haven't seen her all week."

Natasha sends a small smirk Wanda's way before Steve speaks up.

"Her heat is approaching so she is keeping extra distance for everyones saftey, she should come back around a week or so from today."

Pink hue coats Wanda's cheeks as the thought of you in heat takes over her mind and the pink only gets darker as her hard on begins to form in her pants. Her mind plummets into thoughts about your slick, and body. Thoughts about filling you with her seed and you being full with her pups causes her to be embarrassed by how hard she's become. If not for the table her bulge would be hard to miss. Wanda remains in a fog for the rest of dinner try as she might she couldn't get her mind off mating you and as everyone stands to part ways she remains seated making the excuse that she'd clean up the kitchen. Wanda strained painfully against her pants she could almost smell you now.

Rubbing your sides you walk towards the kitchen dinner should be over by now and you're starving. You need to get as many calories in as you can before you succumb to your heat tomorrow. The pain was slowly starting to set in and you'd be lying if you said you were looking foreward to the next seven days. You let out a groan as you turn the corner a sudden sharp pain stabbing your side. As you enter the threshold of the kitchen goosebumps rise on your skin the familiar smell of Wanda infultrating your nose before your eyes lock with the alphas. You're almost sure you see Wanda begin to tremble but you quickly begin to back away.

"I'm sorry I thought everyone would be gone by now."

You go to retreat from the kitchen and Wanda stands so quickly her chair falls behind her. In a second she's in your face grabbing you softly by the jaw making you look at her.

"Omega."

She whispers as she sniffs at you rubbing her nose against your cheek before falling to your scent gland.

"Mate."

She whispers again and you chirp. Your omega finally satisfied being acknowledged by your alpha. For a few minutes nothing happens, the two of you stand there relishing eachothers presence. You chirp at her as she lightly growls at you and you feel satisfied, whole even. Then you are painfully reminded of your situation causing you to sharply intake air and groan. Wanda growls louder at the noise of your distress and you whimper.

"It hurts."

Wanda's grip on your jaw becomes tighter, pushing you into the wall before pressing her own body against yours.

"Tell me where it hurts, I'll take care you shchenok." (Puppy)

You groan again, your heat suddenly over taking your senses as a result of having your mate so close. Your hands raise to grip Wanda's arms tightly, nails digging into her skin through the fabric of her shirt.

"Need you, please. Alpha. Mate."

Your words come out as little whimpers. Your panting, you don't know why but suddenly you can't get enough air for full breaths. So caught up in Wanda you don't even process you're about to be mated in the tower kitchen but honestly you don't care either. Wanda however does she feels territorial, primal even. She needs you to herself, needs privacy with you. She'd attack anyone who might see your bare body if she mated you here. Her room was on the other side of the compound, the alpha side far from the omegas and living area but your room was just down the hall. Wanda releases your jaw hands moving down your body till she reaches the back of your thigh. You bite your lip enjoying the electricity you felt from her touch. As she picks you up you wrap your legs around her torso tightly. Her hands against your thighs causing your sex to tingle. You wrap one hand around her neck before running the other through soft red hair. You return to chirping at her, the feeling of finding your mate an overwhelmingly happy one. You rub your cheek against hers softly and the alpha lightly growls in acknowledgment. You are consumed by Wanda's presence unable to focus on anything but her. When she lays you lightly on your bed you aren't even sure where you are, you just know you're there with her. Wanda bends over you, tucking her nose into your scent gland once more and growling loudly. She needs you, needs you marked, claimed. Needs everyone to know you belong to her.

"Mate."

The word is once again a whisper but you hear it all the same. The time to romantically strip you would have to be later gripping opposite sides of the loose shirt you wore the alpha literally tears the cloth off of you exposing your bra cladded torso to her. Your breathing speeds up the intimacy of the moment undeniable as you feel Wanda begin to run her lips down your body. It was like electric shock, the currents Wanda's touch sent through your body. She magiced your bra away completely exposing your upper half and growling as her soft lips wrapped around your nipple. You moan loudly in response, it felt good too good. You could get lost in this sensation alone.

"Mine."

Wanda growls against your skin before moving along to your other nipple. Your hands grip at Wanda through her clothes before you whimper.

"Need to feel you alpha."

Wanda growls in response, her eyes glowing red as she magics away her own clothing her skin now pressing against yours. She moves back up your body mouth hovering close before she lays claim to your own. The kiss is magical, the locking of your lips causing what you could only descibe as bliss throughout your whole body. You felt like you were glowing arms and legs wrapping around the alpha tightly you were sure this must be heaven. Wanda began to grind against you through the fabric of your pants, your underwear gliding against your excessive amount of slick. You blush, embarrassed by how wet you truly are from so little foreplay but the feeling doesnt last long when Wanda growls above you. Wanda pulls your pants off your waist guiding them down your thighs just enough to expose your slick and shudders when the smell of you tingles her nostrils. She's overcome with the need to knot you, breed you as she makes her mark on your neck. But she also feels the feral need to take you, to have your slick dripping down her chin as she causes you to come apart on her tongue. Starting with the latter she pulls your pants off quickly. Breaking away from your lips to slowly kiss down your body. You take a long gasp of air eyes dialating as you watch Wanda work her way down. Your hips begin to twitch unable to stay still at the excitement of what was about to come. Wanda's hands move to firmly grip your waist holding you in place as she kisses your stomach moving lower and lower your stomach muscles flex, a wave of arousal flowing through you. When she reaches her destination her hands move to your thighs lifting them up to hold you wide open for her. You're leaking, literally and Wanda can't wait to have a taste. She dives in slurping up the excess before moving to your center. Sucking on your clit then tongue fucking you like a woman starved. Your slick quenches a thirst Wanda didn't even know she had tongue lapping at your clit before quickly moving towards your hole eager to drink up the slick as a result. It doesn't take long and under normal circumstances you're sure you would of been embarrassed but none of that matters when your muscles spasm. Back arching in the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced, your thighs shake, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream. Wanda doesn't stop eagerly drinking up your orgasm before wanting, no needing you to do that again. You whimper in overstimulation but don't stop your alpha, just as turned on by her need for you. You squirm against the red heads mouth a little towards her a little away, this time you last longer if only for your slight sensitivity causing time before the feeling was pleasurable again yet you cum all the same. Wanda moans loudly as you release into her mouth again. She could do this all day she's sure of it. But now as her precum begins to soak her boxers she knows its time. Lifting onto her knees between your legs red eyes glow as her pants disappear and through your haze you see her in all her glory. You reach down gripping her in your hand moaning at the size while she moans at the sensation. You pump her, an overwhelming feeling to suck her down your through the way she'd done you comes over you but Wanda quickly grabs your hand removing you from her.

"You're going to make me bust shchenok." (Puppy)

Wanda hesitates a second if only to allow her own incoming orgasm to subside, she needed to bury herself in you and it wouldn't look good for her if it ended just as quickly as it started. In the meantime she leans down over you meeting your lips in a hungry kiss the taste of you on her lips causing another wave of your own slick to pool between your legs. You push at her lower back willing her to enter you but she resist. Kissing you eagerly before breaking to kiss to move towards your scent gland, you pant quickly. Wanda's kiss having stolen all the air from your lungs.

"Mine."

Wanda whispers against you, hips beginning to grind against your slick in order to lubricate herself. You shudder in response.

"Yours alpha, take me. I want to be yours."

Wanda reaches down gripping herself in order to slowly slide into you. She's thick stretching you out in ways only she can, the burn sends waves through you and by the time she's completely sheathed you're a whimpering mess.

"Yebat' you're so tight." (Fuck)

She pulls out only to slam back into you, her pace is brutal, hips slamming against yours hitting a sweet spot you didn't even know you had repeatedly. Your moans are as loud as the sound of your wet slick sucking Wanda back in. You claw at her wanting her impossibly closer as she fucked you into next week.

"Holy fuck I'm cumming. Alpha. Alpha."

Your eyes roll back as you arch. The orgasm makes you see white and Wanda doesnt stop. You squirting fueling her ego.

"That's right shchenok. You love the way your alpha fucks you, love how deep I am in you. Look shchenok can you see me."

Wanda brings your gaze down the visible bulge in your stomach when the alpha bottoms out causing your stomach to tighten.

"I'm right here."

Wanda says as she pushes down on the bulge and you spasm again another light orgasm washing through you.

"Fuck I'm gonna fill you up, get you pregnant with my pup."

Wanda pumps into you harder, her knot slamming against your entrance as she nears her own release.

"Alpha. Alpha."

You whimper to fucked out to form any other words.

"You're gonna look so pretty swollen with my seed all mine."

You moan again as Wanda bends towards your scent gland the feel of her canines against your neck enough to almost send you over the edge. She sinks her teeth into you right as you hear a pop. Her knot having settled inside you easily combined with the blackout orgasm of your mating bite. When you come to Wanda is still knotted deep inside you. Nuzzling at your cheeks with a low growl. You chirp back to weak to do much else and Wanda hums.

"My mate, my omega."

10 months later.

You were exhausted, to say the least. A new born was a lot of work and a lot of lost sleep. Wanda wasn't here, literally dragged away for a debrief she was required to attend. If you were honest you didn't mind, she'd been slightly smothering you since you gave birth and while you loved her for it just because you gave birth didn't mean you were no longer a functioning adult. You'd been picking petty arguments since your third trimester which you always felt bad for. It was the hormones combined with being put on bedrest so you didn't get to do your job combined with sexual frustration since the doctor said it was no longer safe for intercourse. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower, now with the added insecurities about the changes in your body since pregnancy and child birth you weren't sure you even wanted Wanda to touch you. Ignoring the mirror you dry yourself before wrapping a towel around you. Exiting the bathroom right as your little baby boy woke up with soft cries. You coo at him lifting him out of his crib you lose your towel throwing it over the side in order to hold your baby against your bare chest. You were barely one month postpartum but glad to be past the part where you were in a sense literally wearing a human diaper. Your son instantly calms at the sound of your heart beat as you bounce him lightly moving to sit in your bed you lean against the headboard letting out slightly pained noises as you try and relax your overworked back. You cover your lower half with the blanket already feeling the chill of the room as you begin to hum at your son. You don't hear the door open to focused to the little boy in your arms, getting comfortable as you move him to breast feed. You hiss as he begins to work at your sore nipple but eventually relax becoming accustomed to the pain. You rub his little head of hair softly smiling at him a fullness in your heart only created by the birth of your child as Wanda makes her pressence known.

"You're so beautiful dorogaya." (Dearheart)

You bite back your own insecurities at her comment humming in response. Looking up you meet Wanda's piercing eyes before meeting her lips in a kiss.

"I mean it dorogaya or have you forgotten I can hear your thoughts."

You can't help but frown not used to not being able to keep secrets.

"But...."

"Ah ah ah no buts, you're even more beautiful now than the day we met. Pregnancy and childbirth has given you a glow nothing else can."

You sigh a familiar warmth filling your chest in response to Wanda's love.

"YA tebya lyublyu." (I love you)

You whisper your free hand coming to rub against Wanda's cheek.

"I ya lyublyu tebya. Forever and always." (And I love you)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlett witch #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #alpha wanda #omega reader #bagdaddyb #request

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rustingcat · 7 months

Text

Chapter 2 romance

"You were part of the science guild?" Lena asked, astonished.

They were in Zor-El's lab in the floating city of Argo. After showing them the plans, he insisted on giving them a tour of his new lab in the guild's grounds.

"Yeah," Kara simply mumbled in response.

"Not only that," Zor-El continued. "But she was the top of her class! She was going to be the youngest member in all of Krypton's history."

"Father, you're exaggerating."

"Not at all. She has been my personal assistant in my lab since she was five years old, helping me finish that kellex update that was driving me crazy."

"I never knew." Lena studied Kara's familiar figure. She still found so many ways to surprise her, Lena wondered what else she was hiding under that sheepish smile.

"That I was a nerd?"

"No, that I knew, I have seen your watch history on netflix. But I never knew you were into science, you always seemed baffled when I talked about it."

"Yeah, well, earth has different terminology you see, also a slight difference in gravity, which makes things different, not to mention the periodic table and all of that… But I also just wanted to dive into something different after I came to earth." Kara studied the table closely, testing the edge of it with her fingernails. Her smile, while still very present on her face, never really reached her eyes.

"And why is that, Inah? You could've advanced earth's understanding by lightyears," Zor-El proclaimed.

"It's just–" she stopped for a moment, "didn't seem right at the time." She finished instead, flashing her father a bigger grin. Kara's eyes were always smiling, but Lena could see how forced the smile really was, as if there was something else simmering underneath.

"Kara,I could really use some fresh air. Why don't you join me?" Lena quickly suggested it before Zor-El could respond.

"Yeah."

The air in Argo felt different. She wasn't sure if it was for the lack of pollution, or simply the fact that it was an alien territory.

"Do you want to go back? We got what we came for. I know you said you wanted to spend some time with your parents, but you seem so uncomfortable Kara, we can just go back."

"No," Kara trailed away with uncertainty. She was quiet for a while. Lena decided to wait for her to continue as they walked side by side through the alien city Kara once called home.

"I should want to spend time with them right? They are my parents. Wouldn't you want to spend more time with your mother if you had the chance?" Kara asked, almost pleading for something in her voice.

"I… yes?" Lena wasn't sure what to say. "I would like to say yes, but I don't know… I found so many things out about her when I visited her hometown. I suppose I don't really know what she was really like, if we would even get along." That trip to Ireland really shook the image of her mother she had conjured in her mind, she was quite honestly afraid to learn more.

"We never really know our parents do we?" Kara chuckled bitterly. She paused for a moment before she continued. "I wanted them so badly when I first came to earth. I saw them everywhere, from the supermarket, to my school teachers to my dreams, always coming to rescue me back home. I looked up to them, I always wanted to impress my mum, and I wanted to be just like my dad when I grew up." Kara stopped next to some railing at the end of the town, securing the cliff from falling to the refugee encampment below. She rested her arms on the top of the cool metal and looked at the sky, her eyes drifting miles away.

"Then why didn't you pursue science on earth?" Lena asked gently.

"Kal and the Danvers were always going on about how I should hide my identity, anything that might make me alien. It's not just my powers, it was the cultural differences, mannerism, accent, pop culture, everything. You know I learned calculus when I was four, so I feared showing any of that in school would raise suspicion." She took a deep breath and turned to face Lena, leaning her back against the railing. "Also, I suppose, after a while, thinking about that stuff just started to hurt. It always reminded me of home, and it just hurt to think about it."

"I'm sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable in any way." Lena took a step closer, but feared reaching out. She held herself out of habit, fearing she might have hurt her best friend for years without realising it.

"No, Lena you didn't hurt me, quite the opposite actually. After years I managed to avoid thinking about it, I focused on other activities and studies and just tried to keep myself from sticking out. After becoming Supergirl I learned some new information about my parents, realised that everything I thought about them was wrong. I held both them and Krypton on such a high pedestal, without even knowing them at all, not really anyway. When I met you, you reminded me of why I fell in love with science, engineering and innovating. You always talk with so much love and enthusiasm about each project, always trying to make the world a better place. You made it everything I thought it was, everything it should be."

Lena felt her cheeks flash as a smile spread on her face. "Maybe we can try to work on it together. If you're interested of course." She walked next to the railing, putting both hands to stabilize herself as she looked at the valley below.

"Yes. I'd love that." Kara smiled, turning back towards the valley only shifting closer to Lena so they stood almost shoulder to shoulder.

"Good. Then we can maybe even finish it in time for their wedding, it would be the perfect timing for them to know that they can feel secure about their future and know they can raise a family in whatever way they choose."

Kara let out a small laugh, almost a giggle as the smile finally returned to her face.

"What?" Lena inquired with a matching smile on her lips.

"It's just, everything on earth is always so romantic."

"Romantic?"

"Yeah. It was always so cold and calculated on Krypton. Everything has a very clear purpose and the drive for creation was always efficiency. But on earth there's always a story, a connection. Everything feels like art, you lot romanticise everything. It's one of my favourite things about earth."

Lena's smile grew wider. Despite everything she went through, Kara still had this wonderful optimistic and hopeful outlook on everything that radiated positivity wherever she went. Lena let herself bask in it whenever she could, feeling lucky to simply be granted the opportunity. She wasn't sure what possessed her to ask her next question.

"Do you want kids?" Her body flushed red hot when she realised what she just asked.

"Yes, I always wanted kids." Kara answered simply, as if she didn't find the sudden question strange. "How about you? Do you want kids?"

Lena took a moment, taking a deep breath before she answered. "I… Well, I grew up with the Luthors and they are not the kind of family you want to bring a child to." She said with a forced smile.

"But, do you want to?"

"Maybe? Yes. I suppose with the right person. I fear I might be a terrible mum."

"What? No! Lena, you would be an amazing mother. I just know it." Kara's smile almost made her believe it. "You'd have two amazing super smart kids-"

"Two?" Lena asked, amused with a raised brow.

"At least two," Kara nodded to herself. "And they would be the smartest kids in school and win every award in whatever sport they choose to participate in."

"Oh, are they athletes, too?"

"Of course, sport is very important Lena." Kara answered seriously.

Lena laughed in response. She loved how ridiculous Kara could be.

"And I would spoil them rotten of course. Giving them the best snacks and telling them the funniest jokes."

"You would, wouldn't you." It was said as a statement. Damn Kara and her descriptions, she could almost see it in her mind.

"Yes! I would be the coolest aunt! Their favourite aunt Kara." She finished with a satisfied grin.

"Aunt Kara." Lena's words felt bitter in her mouth, yet she tried to force her best genuine smile.

"And you would get to be cool aunt Lena as well, of course. Oh, we should definitely try to have our kids at the same time so they could grow up to be best friends." Kara added excitedly.

"Yeah," Lena feared her smile might come off as a bit manic. "We certainly should."

"We'll make sure they know they have no expectations they need to fulfill, so they can grow up free to be who they are." Kara continued in a lower voice, saying it almost to herself, turning her head to watch the sky.

"You'd make a great mum too, Kara." Lena said with all the honesty she could master, probably carrying slightly more emotions then she intended.

Kara smiled, shifting a bit closer, to lean some of her weight on Lena's shoulder as they continued to watch the starry night above them.

Read here on ao3

#that was my favourite to write so far #supercorptober #supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorptober2023 #my art #my fic

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captain-mj · 7 months

Note

Og Soapghost?? Maybe with bottom og Ghost?

I was talking about a god x human au in my discord recently and this felt like the perfect time to use it!

Ghost couldn't feel much in his body anymore. It hurt. He knew that. But it was so distant.

A man forced him forward and he could feel spikes of feelings through his body that were vaguely like pain. Rivulets of blood and sweat went down his body.

They made him kneel. People were speaking, but he couldn't understand over the drugs pumping through his body. It was pounding through him.

Roba stood in front of him. Knife in hand. "May your soul suffer for eternity. You could've avoided this. If you just... listened. " He looked a little sad. "Such a fucking waste."

It was a relief. To die. A moment of nothingness that made all of it disappear. The ache in his body. All the pain. Gone.

Then it hit him. Pain in a way he'd never felt before. Vibrating through his body.

He laughed a little because somehow, still not as bad as his dad.

His body spiraled further down despite it not feeling like he really moved.

Ghost hit something soft and sank down into puddles of fabric. Where they touched his skin, everything was fine. No pain. Not even from his mortal wounds. It was all just okay.

Strangely, he found himself falling asleep. The dead shouldn't sleep, Ghost felt, but he fell into it all the same.

This had been an expected turn of events. Eventually, Ghost was sure that Roba would kill him and go to hell. It felt expected at least.

All of that led to him waking up in a bed though. A bed with such soft sheets Ghost wondered if they were made of pure silk or Egyptian cotton. They ran through his fingers like water.

His skin looked.... clean. After seven months of the only shower he got being from rainwater leaking into his cell, it was... confusing. To not just be clean, but be... pristine. Even his nails were cleaned up. No longer broken and chipped with blood encrusted into them.

The robe he was wrapped in was similar. Fancy and the perfect amount of coziness. Ghost's body was... pleasant to be in. The aching in his right shoulder from where his dad had yanked him too hard as a child, the harsh ripped feeling with his ribs, even the dull throbbing of his head from dehydration, all gone.

It was startling.

He took stock of his body first, seeing he very much still had wounds, he just couldn't feel them.

The room was plain. Carpeted with soft rugs though. It was a very pleasant temperature. All of the furniture inside had been nailed or screwed into the floor. The only thing in the room that Ghost could hypothetically pick up and use for a weapon was the robe he had on, his only clothing, or a lamp. The lamp itself was not where most of the light in the room was coming from. It wasn't... very clear actually where all the light was coming from. Even the shadows seemed unsure about it, with some moving severely one way and gently in others. Some objects had two or three shadows, none of which made sense.

Ghost had a weird sensation like he should have a headache but didn't.

A man came in. Ghost's height, but just a smidge shorter. Broad shouldered and striking blue eyes and a mohawk that looked oddly out of place.

Blood. It soaked him. His clothes and face and there were clots in his hair.

"Yer awake." The thickness of his accent and the strangeness of the situation meant Ghost needed a second to really understand him.

"Yes."

"Soap."

Ghost stared at him before he continued. "My name is Soap. You're name is Simon."

"Prefer Ghost." He responded quickly now and he said it seconds before he sent the useless lamp hurtling at Soap's head. It smashed into him and Ghost felt the impact like it had hit him. Pain lanced through him and although it was a familiar type of pain, it still made him choke out a noise from the shock of it.

Soap moved closer, unharmed. Smiling. "My dear Simon. While I find that very amusing, I recommend you don't try to hurt me, okay, mo chridhe?"

Ghost blinked at the man, head spinning even faster. He gingerly felt his face for any soreness, but there was nothing. Just...himself.

Soap was in front of him. He gently started to reach for him before stopping, bloody fingers about to dirty Ghost. Immediately, he pulled back. "You don't know me... personally. But you and I have a very long history together."

Ghost stared at him blankly.

"I apologize for my state. A sacrifice? To the concept of pain? Of suffering? Well, it doesn't happen as often as you might think. And there's a lot of things, gods, spirits, concepts that wanted you. But I could never, ever, let them have you." Soap spoke like his words were honeyed.

Ghost had been in hunting in Canada the first time a mountain lion had observed him. It had been the same feeling. Same fear.

"Now, I know you must be nervous. Scared. That's okay. You can be those things." Soap smiled. Dazzling. Beautiful. It hurt to look directly at it. "But please know and understand that I will never, ever hurt you again."

Again?

Ghost tried to string words together. He needed to ask a question, but what would be the right one?

Soap turned. "I'm going to go wash up. Stay here. Rest. You look tired."

Ghost had just woken up. He did not feel tired. He only felt the fabric against his skin. "Where am I?" Not a good enough question.

Soap smiled. "You are in... well. Heaven isn't quite right. Neither is hell. Human souls do not come here often. But you are safe. I'd level the world. Destroy anything that came into my path. Before I let another being lay their hands on you."

Ghost knew he was telling the truth. Instinctively and viciously. His body started to get colder and he wrapped himself in the blanket as he watched Soap walk away from him. There was the sound of water.

Ghost ran for the door. He tried to get it open. It wasn't locked. It just... wouldn't move. He yanked harder and used all of his strength, feeling it just barely creak. Like a cat, he clawed at the door, trying to get it to just fucking budge.

The water shut off and Ghost fled back to bed to pretend he had stayed in the same spot.

Soap was... handsome. He reminded Ghost of someone he knew from high school.

"How do we know each other?"

Soap didn't look happy. "I am a god."

"My mom was protestant and my dad was atheist and I really doubt the Christian God is Scottish."

Soap grinned dangerously. "Why? Think he's a Brit?"

"No. He'd be Jewish. Seeing as Jesus was Jewish. So. Let's say I believe you." "You should." "Which I don't, what are you the god of?"

"Pain. Anguish. Suffering. At the hands of a parent usually but not always."

"Oh."

"So you know me well. Unfortunately. You're not the person to go through the most pain. Shocking, I know. You're in the top ten. But... it was the past few years where you caught my interest."

Ghost stared at him. "Wasn't conveniently when I turned 18 and therefore it's legal was it?" It was a shit joke. One mostly done to throw Soap off. To try to get him to stop staring at him the way he did.

"Nah. You were actually 20 already. You put yourself through more pain and I was there again. I saw you again. And you had... filled out. Got taller. Older I should say. You were... gorgeous." Soap looked at him with literal hearts around him. They formed out of smoke.

Ghost didn't want to know what he considered his love language. If it was anything like what he was, Ghost imagined the next eternity living in agony with the promise of love hanging above his head.

"I see."

"Yes. I will admit that I'm wretched."

"You could've stopped it?"

"No. Not at all. You think I like letting children get hurt? Never. But I am the god of pain and anguish so I am there. I watch and I tip the scales and when I can, I bring karmic justice. But right now, I am wretched for not stopping you from being killed. But Simon, you must understand that I simply wanted to protect you. Now I can. Now I can bring you to my bed. Love you properly."

Ghost felt the floor fall from beneath him. His panic must've been clear on his face.

"Not right now." Soap said it so loudly it made Ghost flinch. He quickly dropped the volume. "For now, it is more than enough to know you are... safe. Unable to feel pain. Within my reach, though not in my grasp yet." He reached forward, fingers gently touching Ghost's cheek. It sent such a visceral feeling through Ghost. His nerves reacted. The touch drowning everything out.

It lingered far longer than it should.

"You're tired, aren't you?"

Ghost gasped, trying to find air for his lungs. "Wait."

"Just rest. Your body is so damaged. It's going to take so much time to stitch you together, but I promise I will do it with all the love and care needed." Soap took consciousness away from Ghost. Gently, careful to let him drift into it. Like threads.

Ghost woke up with most of his wounds healed or healing. They did not all heal cleanly, leaving scars, but they were done. Not even tender.

Soap slept next to him, slowly breathing in and out.

Ghost tried to escape again, scrambling at the door. He so desperately wanted to get out of there. To get confirmation this was fake.

"The door only opens for Gods." Soap mumbled from where he was in the blankets. "Come back to bed, Simon."

"Don't call me that. Whatever bullshit you're using to make this door act like this is probably some stupid trick. Something heavy on the other side."

Soap got up and walked over. "You think you're about as strong as I am right?"

"Probably."

Soap opened the door with ease. There was nothing on the other side but hallways. And a few cats. "Easy, peasy. You're human. My human. So it won't open for you."

Ghost watched Soap close the door. No latching, no locks. He tried to open it and it wouldn't budge. He kept asking for Soap to open it again, trying to find the trick to it. Soap was infinitely patient.

Soap put his hand on the knob. "Turn it."

Ghost turned and opened the door. Easily. He tried again with just his hand. Nothing. The knob was too old to have any fingerprint technology or some other tech thing.

Ghost looked at Soap who just shrugged. "Told you. If you want to go outside, we can go."

"Yes. I'd... like that."

Soap nodded. "You shouldn't go out in just a robe. Let me get you clothing."

Ghost nodded and watched Soap go to a door that hadn't been there before. He got clothing out and got on his knees, helping Ghost who followed the silent orders automatically.

Soap offered his arm.

"No." Ghost was not going to hang off him like arm candy. "I'll walk next to you."

Soap frowned. "Simon."

"No."

"It's to keep you safe. How about we hold hands?"

"No. Don't touch me."

Soap sighed. "I can't say no to you. Just stay close. If someone takes you away, they might hurt you."

Ghost did stay close to Soap. Mostly because Soap stayed really close. Things did watch Ghost. Things that clearly were not human. Not animals.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

Soap led him to a kitchen. The doors didn't make sense. Ghost felt the world start to crumble around him.

Oh fucking hell.

This was real.

Soap got him food. It was leaves with something red over it, most likely salad dressing. He added some meat to the side and gently led Ghost back up. Ghost grabbed his arm and followed him.

Soap sat on the bed and watched him eat.

Ghost enjoyed the food. It tasted good. Mostly, he was trying to pretend this wasn't happening.

Soap motioned for Ghost to shower once he was done. His clothes mysteriously disappeared besides the robe. He laid on the bed again, sinking about into the softness. Music started to play. Beautiful music.

Ghost felt Soap laying next to him. Both staring at the ceiling.

"You like the stars, right?"

Ghost nodded. "I do."

Soap flicked his hands and the ceiling started to swirl until they were exactly like his stars from home.

Ghost started to breath harder. This was insane. All of it. But god, it was so nice to not feel pain.

Soap turned to him. "Simon. You're feeling something I don't understand."

"I don't want you to hurt me."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're capable. More than capable. What could I do to defend myself?"

"Simply tell me to leave. I adore you. I'll do anything you want. Anything to make you feel comfortable."

Ghost was silent for a while. They laid there a long time. He wasn't sure how long. Must've been hours. Just watching the stars. It was horribly pessimistic. Evil almost. But he knew if he didn't give Soap what he wanted, he'd take it eventually.

"Take what you want."

Soap looked at him, strangely passive. "Alright." He got on top of him, cradling his face. "I love you, Simon Riley."

Ghost looked away and let Soap pull the robe away. Let him trail his fingertips over him. He kept waiting for the pain. For roughness. Instead, Soap carefully prepped him. He pushed in one of his fingers, coated in something slick that felt warm. His mouth stayed busy on Ghost's stomach. With a gentleness that felt so foreign from the literal god of pain, he sweetly opened Ghost up for another finger.

The stretch felt... divine. It got a tiny groan out of Ghost that Soap quickly kissed him to swallow down. "I love you. I'll prove it. I have all of eternity to show you pleasure. To make up for all of the pain you've felt."

Ghost gasped as he felt him go deeper. Pleasure sparked up his spine as he was prepped. It was overwhelming and amazing and it felt so damn good. All too soon, he was pulling out those magic fingers and leaving Ghost empty and wanting more.

Soap hiked Ghost's legs up. "You might feel a bit of pain. I'm sure you're familiar with this."

Ghost bit his lip and nodded. "Be as rough as you want. I'm sure my pain is good for you."

Soap grabbed his hips and slid into him. Slow and steady. "Simon. Simon. Come now. Do I need to come out and just say I want to spoil you?"

There was no time to adjust before he carefully rolled his hips, making Ghost arch from pleasure. It spun and ran through him, too intense to be natural.

Soap held him close and kept going. Loving. The word loving came to mind. It was so focused on Ghost in a way he wasn't used to. There was this dizzying lack of anything but pleasure. He dug his nails into his skin to ground himself but Soap pinned him by his wrists. The change of angle meant Soap just brushed his prostate in just the right way and Ghost slowly felt something in him start to crack.

So good.

So good...

"I'd never hurt you. I only want you to feel pleasure. I'd keep you like this for all eternity if I thought you'd be happy. I'd dedicate my existence to pleasuring you. Whatever you'd ask of me. My mouth, my body, my hands. I've spent so much time learning what I can. What makes men feel good. what would make you feel good. I know every nerve of your body. Ever reaction of the flesh."

Soap twisted his hips and Ghost cried out, the stars in his eyes mixing with the stars from the ceiling. His legs shook where they wrapped around Soap.

"Faster..."

Soap grinned. "There you go. You'll learn to love me. I promise. But until then, whatever you want, you get. I'll spoil you. Ruin you. No one else will be able to compete." He did go faster. It was perfect.

Ghost felt his thoughts disappearing and being replaced with just...

Soap kissed him and stayed at the right pace until Ghost had to turn his head to catch his breath. He reached down to finish himself but Soap pushed it away. "No. Just this. I know you can. Until then, just keep enjoying the feeling okay? You don't do anything but feel."

Ghost whined, feeling the pressure in his lower gut. He needed to finish, but he understood Soap's point in that he didn't want it to end. Maybe he could be happy doing this forever. Just taking and taking and...

Ghost couldn't think anymore. His body just wouldn't let him, taking over his thoughts.

"Soap. Soap. Soap. Soap." Simon mumbled before throwing his head back, coming all over both of them. The moment overstimulation started, Soap stopped, pulling out. He pushed his hair back before going to tuck himself back into his pants. "Not going to finish?"

"Don't see a reason to as long as you did."

"No. Finish."

Soap paused and stared at him before slowly wrapping his hand around his cock. He started to stroke himself but kept eye contact with Ghost. He came all over Ghost's chest.

"Good.' Ghost muttered, relaxing. "I need another shower."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #soapghost #cod #ghoap

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queercontrarian · 3 months

Text

summary: rhysand and tamlin meet in the summer court. obviously they are just friends and neither of them wants anything more. they are totally normal about having feelings.

(that's it that's all you get. i suck at summaries)

cw: none but rhysand isn't very kind to himself

for @sjmromanceweek

It wasn’t hard to find Tamlin. It never was these days and it left Rhys wondering if he’d really become so familiar with him that he was somehow impossible to miss. It was already getting dark when he arrived on the beach and still it took only five minutes to locate the other prince.

To be fair, there weren’t a lot of people on the dunes near the shore of Adriata. They were just outside of city limits so there was no way the guard would know they were there, but Rhys still reached for his wrist and the band of pearls twisted around it. Just in case. He didn’t know how Tamlin had gotten them - a favor, maybe, from the princess - but they would get him out of all the trouble he could potentially get into tonight. A carte blanche.

He didn't get a greeting as he walked up to Tamlin, his friend only moved to the side to make space for him on the blanket, throwing his own jacket and bag into the sand next to him. There were some couples around, some families in small groups along the beach. It seemed like no one was paying attention to them but that didn't mean much. Rhys sighed and turned around to face the sea while his friend brushed the dust and dirt off of the blanket.

“Is anyone we know out here?” he asked, a bit louder than necessary to clear his throat.

“Haven't been recognized yet,” Tamlin replied, kicking his legs out again and leaning back. “Sit.”

Rhys cracked his knuckles, trying to distract himself from the way his heart skipped a beat or two. It was ridiculous to get this worked up over spending time with a friend, over hearing his voice, over a thing so small as a night out on the beach or a stupid charming accent. It wasn't normal - Rhysand would know; he had spent his entire life chasing “normal”. Tamlin was ruining years of hard work with a smile and Rhysand couldn't even hate him for it.

“I'll put a glamour up anyway,” he said, his voice steady as always as he got to work.

“I already did.”

“I know, and it's not good.” He could practically feel Tamlin rolling his eyes through the silence. It was true though. Tamlin had never been good with glamours, or any kind of learned magic in general. He could do the basics, and he was incredible with the magic he pulled from within but his hands were not made for the intricate work of spellweaving or any of the tricks Rhys had spent years of his life studying.

“You could always teach me how to do it better.” His heart stuttered again.

“Sure. I will, eventually,” he replied, the last threads of magic melting into the glamour. He threw it out around them like a net in the air and it shimmered against the night sky for a moment before becoming invisible to their eyes.

When Rhys finally turned around, Tamlin smiled. “Beautiful,” he said.

“Someone warn the ladies, the poet is out tonight,” Rhysand answered mockingly, glad that the sun was long gone so the blush creeping up his neck was hidden in the shadows. Tamlin ignored his comment.

“Maybe after the meetings end you can teach me, yes?”

Rhys sighed, unbuttoning his coat so he could sit. “If the meetings ever end. We've been at it for days; Dawn keeps blocking the vote.” He could feel how warm the sand still was under the blanket and for a moment he felt the urge to lay down, to take off his shoes and bury his feet in the sand. It wouldn’t be proper. It wasn't a normal thing to do for a prince.

“Well, Thesan isn't stupid,” Tamlin said easily.

“How would you know? You don't even show up to the meetings,” Rhys snapped, the frustration of the day bubbling out of him so suddenly it surprised both of them. He tried to soften his tone when he added, “I haven't seen you in a month. I’ve been here all week, you didn’t feel like coming over?” It was meant to sound playful but the hurt behind the joke stuck. Tamlin had been in Adriata for months, just a few miles across the delta from its sister city Apri. It would have been easy for Tamlin to winnow or to cross over by boat, hell, he could have shifted into a whale to swim the distance. But Tamlin only shook his head.

“With both Meilyr and Father in town? Not a chance.”

“So what, you just keep making me come to see you? That’s how it works?” Tamlin shrugged.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” he said, his sharp teeth gleaming for just a second under the moonlight as his lips twisted into a crooked grin.

“Oh fuck off,” Rhys groaned, leaning back on his hands just as Tamlin bumped his shoulder against his. The truth was that he didn't want Tamlin anywhere near his family. Here, he was warm and alive and happy, and Rhysand had missed him more than he cared to admit. He balled his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out. Be normal.

“Don't take it so hard. Besides, it's easier to hide here where there are less people than in Apri. After all, we've already established that I suck at glamours,” Tamlin teased, brushing his long hair out of his face.

“I didn't mean it like that,” Rhys said, struggling to find a middle ground between apologetic and defensive.

“I know what you meant.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Tamlin seemed to be deep in thought and Rhys didn't quite know what to say without interrupting him or letting his heart jump off his tongue, so he just watched the crowd forming on the beach from their place high up on the dune. If this was fewer people than in Apri he didn't want to know what the streets there looked like. It was getting very dark now but he could still make out the colorful costumes the faeries were wearing, each one a hand-crafted, endlessly detailed masterpiece. Carnaval started tonight and he'd fully forgotten about it over setting up this meeting with Tamlin. He wondered if Tamlin had any plans to go into the city later to celebrate with his hosts. If he did he hadn't dressed for it, which Rhys hoped meant that he could keep him all night.

"Have you seen fireworks before?" Tamlin asked finally. Rhys cleared his throat, then nodded.

"Yes," he said quietly, "In Dawn. But it was only a small demonstration. As I understand, the spectacle tonight will be far more grand." Tamlin had never seen fireworks. His father did not care for them, and that was enough explanation. There were so many things the Spring Court missed out on because of the High Lord, and Rhys was set on introducing Tamlin to all of them.

Before he could dump everything he knew about the fireworks on Tamlin though his stomach rumbled. He'd skipped dinner to make it to Adriata in time and he was starting to feel it, even though he would never say. He didn't need to.

Tamlin wordlessly grabbed the bag he'd brought and carelessly tossed aside earlier. He opened it up with one hand and offered Rhys half a dozen small pastries wrapped in paper. His mind and his heart were racing as he accepted the food. Accepting food from a loved one - Rhys shook himself out of his stupor. Normal, he reminded himself. Just be normal.

"The one with spinach is mine, but you can have the rest."

"Are you serious?" Rhys asked, his voice measured as he carefully unfolded the paper. The smell alone made his mouth water: sweet and sugary and so, so delicious. Tamlin nodded.

“I know you like these and you never get to have them because your father doesn't eat them. So I thought I'd bring some,” he explained, finding the spinach pastry easily amongst the others and eating it all in one bite. Fighting down the fluttering in his chest, the feeling of all kinds of abnormal hunger, Rhys reached into his own pocket and dropped a small bag of dried fruit into the other male's lap.

"I brought these for you from Day." Tamlin swallowed so quickly Rhys feared for a second he'd choke.

"Candied lemon peel?" His friend ripped into the bag faster than Rhys could answer.

"Yes, and some other stuff. Figured you were running out again." He couldn't suppress his smile as he watched Tamlin pick through the sweets. He grabbed one of the pastries at random - blackberry, his favorite.

“I love you,” Tamlin said seriously, holding up a piece of candied fruit to the moon. “You're the best person that has ever happened to me.”

His heart stuttered again and Rhys tried not to choke on his pastry. It didn't mean anything. It never meant anything. The Spring Court was just like that. Tamlin used words like these all the time and it wasn't his fault that it meant more to Rhys than to him. He couldn't know the degree to which praise was earned in his family, how much love was based on conditions - presenting him with his preferred sweets was the very least Rhys was willing to do to hear those words from Tamlin's lips.

They both flinched when the first fireworks exploded over Apri, light and color bursting across the sky. Down by the water people were clapping and screaming, pointing at the display, the art unfolding high up in the air.

Rhysand blinked away the bright explosions, gaze slipping away to land on Tamlin instead. His friend was still staring at the sky, head tilted to the side.

"Do you like them?" he asked. Tamlin tilted his head to the side. Rhysand liked that Tamlin took the time to think things like these through. He liked a lot of things about Tamlin - too many things.

"I do," he said finally, "I just don't like how loud they are"

“Our stars are quiet,” Rhys said, “And twice as beautiful too.” Tamlin only looked up at him and smiled.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Rhys replied emphatically before lowering his voice into a forced casual drawl again. “You should come see them and convince yourself of it. It's nothing like this muted, tired sky.”

If he were honest he'd admit that he was dying to see Tamlin in his Court, under his sky. He wanted to show him the mountains, the Illyrian Steppes and the Rainbow in Velaris. Maybe Tamlin could write a poem about the beauty of the Night Court too. Maybe he'd learn to love it just as much. Maybe he could keep him there, make him a star next to his own on the firmament.

They were silent again, listening to the crowd shrieking with joy as the fireworks kept coming, the wind picking up the music played in Adriata and carrying it to the shore.

"I think there's a special kind of beauty in things that aren't made to be beautiful," Tamlin said finally. Rhys groaned.

"Oh, leave the poet at home for just one night will you,” he muttered, nudging his friend until he slipped off the blanket under them.

Tamlin chuckled but his expression turned earnest again when he said, "I would like to see them one day though, the stars you describe. They sound beautiful."

“I'll take you,” Rhys promised. He'd take him anywhere as long as he could be with him.

#sjmromanceweek2024 #tamsand #the little things #acotar #summer court #no beta we die like unnamed family members

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delulu-hours · 7 months

Text

Together {5}

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Latina!reader

Summary: You had a big surprise for him. So when you and Derek go and visit his mother for her birthday, you figured it would be the best way to tell them. To tell his family; however, things don't go as planned when Derek gets arrested. Memories flood the both of you as you figured out how to fight this nightmare together

Warning: Mention of sexual assault and abuse

{1} {4}

It had been a little over a month since six weeks had passed, and you were now halfway through your pregnancy. You found yourself sitting comfortably on the couch, eagerly awaiting your boyfriend's return. Engrossed in a book, a sudden thud from outside startled you, causing your eyes to dart towards the door. Voices from the outside caught your attention, prompting you to rise to your feet. Carefully peering through the blinds, you realized it was just your friendly neighbors from across the street, instantly putting your mind at ease. As you rubbed your small baby bump, a sigh of relief escaped your lips. Even though the situation in Chicago had been resolved, you couldn't help but notice how Derek had picked up on your occasional restlessness and uneasiness. He never pressed you to talk about it, but instead, he always found ways to comfort you and make you feel safe in his presence. Glancing at the time, you couldn't help but feel a slight frown forming on your face, wondering when Derek would be back home. Your eyes drifted over to the book resting on the couch, tempting you to continue reading, but with the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, you knew it would be difficult to concentrate. So, you decided to walk over to the kitchen island and grabbed a stack of envelopes from the counter. As you sifted through, you immediately set aside the ones addressed to Derek, quickly browsing through the rest for any bills. However, one particular piece of mail caught your attention. It felt slightly heavier in your hands, and as you searched for a return address, you furrowed your brows when you realized there wasn't one. Your stomach churned with unease, deepening the frown on your lips.

With equal measures of caution and curiosity, you gently unfolded the envelope and discovered a card inside. Your head tilted in confusion as you observed the cute image of a panda holding a red balloon on the back. Printed over the top were the words I miss you. Although a sense of unease washed over you, your curiosity got the better of you and you couldn't resist opening the card. Grasping the card, you inhaled slightly, a subtle sign of anticipation, before your gaze landed on the handwritten message in bold red ink:

You had no clue how long I’ve been looking for you. I can’t wait until we finally meet again.

As you sat there, your heart pounding in your chest, you couldn't help but notice the familiar cursive font that spelled out Mom in big red letters. Feeling a wave of warmth wash over you, you hurriedly stuffed the card back into its envelope before making your way to your room in a bit of a frenzy. Your mind racing, you searched high and low for your phone, desperate to make a call. Without a second thought, you dialed the number and brought the phone up to your ear, your hands trembling slightly.

“Hello?” The strong Spanish accent was on the other end.

“Nicolás,” Your eyes darted towards the door, “Ella me encontró. (She found me)”

“¿Estas segura? (Are you sure)” You closed your eyes as you sat on the bed.

“Creo que sí. (I think so)”

~~~~~~~~~

Derek sat at the table, absentmindedly stirring his coffee with a frown on his face. Lately, he couldn't help but notice the fear in your eyes that had been haunting you for the past week. Concern for you had been growing steadily. The nightmares seemed to be getting worse, to the point where you were afraid to go to sleep. Although you may have thought he was unaware, Derek felt the bed shift whenever you tried to discreetly distance yourself from him in the early hours of the morning. He also noticed your heightened paranoia, constantly on edge and looking over your shoulder. Whenever someone called your name, he observed how you would tense up next to him, only to relax when you realize who it was. Derek patiently waited, hoping that you would confide in him and tell him what was happening. He had thought that since Chicago, you would open up about whatever had been troubling you. His mom had mentioned how you struggled with sleep during the two days he was held at the CPD. She had even recalled having to wake you up once when you were pleading and crying in your sleep. "I'm heading out early," Derek abruptly announced, quickly gathering his belongings. Ignoring any potential questions from his team, he hastily exited the building and pulled out his phone. Panic washed over him as he attempted to reach you multiple times, only to be met with voicemail each time. With a growing sense of worry, he raced home.

When he arrived at the house, he noticed a box on the front steps and couldn't help but wonder if it was something you had ordered. The box had your name beautifully written in cursive on it, adding a touch of elegance. As he held the box in his hand, he pulled out the keys to open the door, excited to share this little surprise with you. Once inside, he could faintly hear the sound of your voice, engaged in a lively Spanish conversation that reached his ears. Although he couldn't understand the specifics, he caught snippets of your words, which made him smile. As he made his way through the house, he didn't spot you right away, but he knew he needed to locate the source of that enchanting voice. With a sense of curiosity, he followed your voice, eventually finding himself in the peaceful and serene nursery room, where the colors were still up in the air, waiting to be decided together. “¿Cómo pasó esto? Habíamos tenido cuidado. (How did this happen? We had been careful.)” He watched as you ran your fingers through your hair. “Ella me ha estado enviando más cosas. Fotos e incluso algunos regalos. No, no se lo he dicho. No quiero agregarle más estrés.(She has been sending me things. Photos and some gifts. No, no I haven’t told him. I don’t want to add more stress.)” You had turned around and flinched at the sight of your boyfriend behind you. A hand placed over your chest, a clear sign for him that you hadn’t heard him come in. “Te llamaré más tarde. (I’ll call you later)” He knew that sentence. He heard it plenty of time to know that you were going to call whoever was on the other end back. “You’re off early.” You smiled as you moved to give him a hug. Derek didn’t say anything as he noticed the smile never reached your eyes.

“I finished early.” He lied, not knowing how to go on about this.

“I was looking at colors.” You pulled him with you to the kitchen counter where a color book laid open. “I was thinking of either this dark purple accent and having the furniture be an earth tone or tavern color. Or we could do a dark blue-green color or black for the walls.” You showed him the three colors you were thinking about. Derek took the strips from your hand but he wasn’t fully engaged in the conversation. He wanted to ask you who you were talking with. As you kept going on the colors, your eyes drifted to the box that laid on the floor. You stopped talking and walked over to it. No returning address, just that haunting cursive handwriting.

“What did you order?” Derek watched as you slightly tensed up. Your fingers gripped the box. “Mama?” He called out again, taking a step towards you. When you didn’t answer him, he touched your back. “What is it?” As you made your way past him, you remained silent. Your actions betrayed your sense of urgency as you hastily reached for a pair of scissors and eagerly opened the box. Upon peering inside, you discovered more baby items and photographs. The sight filled you with an undeniable rage, causing you to impulsively toss the items over the counter. Derek looked surprised by your outburst, but quickly came to your side when you let out a scream. He rushed over, pulled you into a comforting hug, and you couldn't hold back the flood of emotions anymore. Tears streamed down your face as you clung onto him, seeking solace. Your legs failed you, and Derek gracefully lifted you up, ensuring your safety as he carried you down. “Baby,” He kissed the top of your head. His heart ached hearing you like this. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.” You shook your head. You had been trying to figure out how to hide from your problems and it just seemed like the past you ran away from came back at the worst time. “Hey, look at me.” He gently pulled you back and cradled your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him. “Whatever this is. We’ll go through this together.” As he looked into your eyes, he noticed the exhaustion and fear reflected on your face. The tears streaming down your cheeks revealed just how weary and overwhelmed you felt.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered and he frowned. “I tried to fix it myself.”

~~~~~~~~~

Derek looked at the cards, photos, and gifts that laid out in front of him. You pulled out everything you had gotten. Your leg bounced as you worked up the courage to speak. “My brother is coming today.” He snapped his gaze at you. He was surprised to hear that you had a brother. He felt the corner of his lips tug a bit but he fought the frown.

“I didn’t know you had a brother, baby.” He reached out and placed a hand on your leg, in an attempt to calm you down. “You never mentioned your family so I just assumed they passed away.” You couldn't help but hold his gaze for a moment, before your eyes shifted to the hand resting on your leg. It made you feel a pang of guilt. You hadn't really opened up about your family and how they played a role in helping you escape your past. Especially your brother, who was always there to take care of you and lend a helping hand.

“I,” You stopped. How were you supposed to tell him that you and your brother had been on the run from your mother? After your dad went to prison, your brother took you and you both vanished. No contact with your mother’s side of the family. Your dad’s family was in Mexico so you guys barely even talk to them in general. Or the fact that your brother was going to be arriving any second. “I was fifteen when my dad got sentenced to fifteen years for second-degree murder.” You felt the lump form in your throat as you recalled the night your dad found out what your mom’s brother, your uncle, had been doing to you.

“Murder?” Derek was surprised the least to say. He was worried that maybe it was your dad sending you all the mail, but before he could as you continued.

“He killed my mom’s brother.” Your eyebrows knitted together and a small frown pulled at your lips. Derek could see the slight quiver on your lips as he watched you take in a shaky breath. “The man who had been sexually assaulting me since I was eight.” Derek took in a sharp breath. “At first it was just the small touches and uncomfortable comments when my parents weren’t around but when I turned eight he started to touch me.” You lifted your right shoulder as you rubbed your cheek against it. The tears burned your eyes as you fought to not let them fall. “It was during this time when I started to wet the bed again and my mom would always blame me. I tried to tell her that it wasn’t my fault but she didn’t care. She would beat me, trying to install the fact that I wasn’t supposed to wet the bed. When my dad would come home to see it happening, they would get into huge fights. It had gotten to the point that my mom would send me to my uncle who lived a couple blocks from us. I would try to beg them not to let me go but my mom wouldn’t listen and my dad didn’t want me to hear them fight.” As you dug your nails in between the skin of your thumb and index finger, Derek couldn't help but feel a knot forming in his stomach. He knew all too well where this was heading, and it truly saddened him. It was frustrating to think that you had been going through all of this for seven long years.

“Take your time.” He reassured you by moving his hand to your arm and rubbing it.

“My brother was off to college during this whole ordeal so he didn’t know how bad it had gotten after he left.” A tear rolled down your cheek and you were quick to wipe it. “Things between my mom and dad got back to the point where my mom was beating me whenever and always blamed me for ruining the relationship they had. Dad would work longer shifts to avoid my mom and when it got really bad at home, he would take me to my mom’s brother’s.” You wanted to throw up just thinking about the things he did to you. The way his eyes roamed your body or the way he would claim that you were special. “He-” You didn’t finish your sentence as the doorbell rang and you jumped out of your seat. Derek watched as you moved closer to him, wide eyes on the door before a knock followed.

“Y/n?” A male voice with a strong accent called out before knocking again. Without hesitation, you quickly moved towards the door and opened it, with Derek closely following behind, ready to assist you in any way you needed. As the door swung open, a wave of relief washed over you, and you couldn't help but embrace the man with gratitude. He warmly returned your hug and began asking questions in Spanish, to which you responded with nods or shakes of your head. Holding onto you tightly, he comforted you with gentle back rubs. Observing the man's features, Derek noticed the striking resemblance between you, with both of you sharing the same nose and lips. Despite his eyes being more green, Derek could see the same affectionate warmth reflected in your eyes. There was no doubt in Derek's mind that this man was indeed the brother you had mentioned. Stepping back from the hug, your brother glanced at Derek before warmly extending a hand. “You must be infamous Derek Morgan.” Derek felt as if meeting your brother in a different condition, he would have welcomed him with a smile and open arms. Instead he clamped his hand over your brothers. “Nicolás.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” In that moment, Derek couldn't help but notice the hint of caution in your brother's actions. His gaze flickered anxiously, attentively scanning the streets and every passerby before finally stepping inside the sanctuary of your home. You closed the door behind him and locked it before wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace, whispering heartfelt words of gratitude in Spanish.

“I wish we could have met in different conditions.” Derek took in the Spanish accent in your brother’s voice, reminding him of yours when you first met even though it wasn’t as strong. “I’m sure my sister has begun to explain to you what is going on.” You shifted in your spot.

“We were getting to that part.” Your voice was soft and your brother raised an eyebrow at you. There was a gentle understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgement of the difficulty that lay ahead in recounting what had transpired. But it was a story you had to tell. No one would be able to explain it better than you who knew what had happened. Even your brother, despite his close connection, isn't privy to the full account, aware of the difficulty you've faced in confiding in him. "Sit.” You gestured towards the couch and indicated your brother's shoes. He promptly took them off without needing to be asked and followed you to the seating area. Once you were all settled, with Derek and your brother on either side of you, you resumed your story from where you had left off. As you recounted every detail, your brother had to avert his gaze in an effort to hold back tears. It deeply affected him to know that he had left you in that terrible situation and couldn't protect you, and he regretted running away without returning for you.

On the other hand, Derek did his utmost to support you, maintaining a concerned expression. He concealed the anger burning in his eyes as he listened to how that man had violated you, taking advantage of your vulnerability. When you had reached out to your mom for help, she dismissively brushed you off. Deep down, Derek longed to tear that man apart but he was grateful that your father had intervened and put an end to it. He understood your dad's actions and didn't blame him, as he believed he would have done the same. As you finished recounting your ordeal, you had several moments where you almost shut down and started hyperventilating. Derek gently guided you through it, reassuring you that there was no rush and that he was here for you. He promised that together, you would overcome this. “We’re gonna fix this.” Derek told you as he tucked you into his side. “The team will help and we are going to do everything in our power to stop this. And I’m not gonna stop until you feel like you and our baby girl are safe.” You felt thankful for Derek. Thankful that he knew how to comfort you and make you feel safe.

~~~~~~~~~

When Derek walked into the office, the team could sense that something was on his mind by the serious expression etched on his face and how you held onto him. It didn't take them long to realize that whatever it was, it involved you and the man following behind. This became even more apparent when he asked for the day off. The team observed him speaking with Hotch, his movements sharp and tense. Ried watched your interaction with the unfamiliar man as he listened to your conversation, although he couldn't understand it since both of you were speaking in Spanish. He carefully took note of your facial expressions, realizing that you seemed just as, if not more, concerned than when they went to Chicago for Derek. When Hotch approached, he reassured you that they would start working on resolving the issue. He felt the need to let you know that everything would be okay, and he observed how you visibly relaxed upon hearing his words. The rest of the team didn't require any explanation as they followed Derek to the conference room. Before leaving, Derek planted a quick kiss on your head, leaving you with your brother as you patiently waited for their return. “Te ama. (he loves you)” You looked at your brother, a hand resting on your belly. “I see it in his eyes.”

“I love him too.” You told him honestly. Through the pregnancy and now this, your love for Derek grew more than you thought it could. “He is the best thing that could have happened to me, hermano. (brother)” Your brother placed a hand on your shoulder and kissed your forehead.

“Yo no eres mi hermanita llorna. (You’re no longer my crybaby sister)” He teased as he gave you a friendly smile. It had been eight long years since you had last seen your brother, and although it saddened you to reconnect under these circumstances, you were grateful for his presence and support. Since you left at the age of 20, your only form of communication with him had been through phone calls. As a tired yawn escaped your lips, your brother gently shook his head. Derek had mentioned that you hadn't been getting enough sleep, and he could only imagine the reason behind it. It was likely that the nightmares had resurfaced, and he understood just how distressing they could be. “Take a nap.” He gently patted the desk, indicating that he understood it wasn't the most comfortable place to rest, but you didn't feel the need to protest. Without hesitation, you laid your head down, arms crossed underneath, and peacefully closed your eyes. It didn't take long before your brother kindly noticed your slumber. He gently placed a warm hand on your arm, occasionally giving it comforting rubs to ensure you had a more restful sleep.

When Derek finally returned, you had been peacefully sleeping for a good 40 minutes. With a quick glance at you, he handed Garcia the box containing everything we needed. Garcia wasted no time in rushing back to the conference room. As for Derek, Hotch had instructed him to take you back home. In fact, he even gave me a few additional days off, recognizing that you would need him more than ever. Derek gazed at your sleeping form, not wanting to disturb your rest. So, he gently adjusted your head to rest upon his shoulder. With great care, he then lifted you into his embrace, ensuring your comfort as you shifted slightly without waking. Nicolás kindly followed us, making sure to press the elevator button. He figured it would be best to wait until we were back at the house before asking Derek about our next steps.ured he could wait until you guys got back to the house to ask Derek what was going to happen.

~~~~~~~~~

Three days had passed, and the tone of the letters grew increasingly unpleasant. There was a clear animosity directed towards Derek, with his face marked off in the accompanying photos. It was apparent that she was angry as she expressed her frustrations. She blamed you and your brother for causing the ruin of everything. The situation became more menacing, leaving you apprehensive about what she might do next. Your brother took immediate action, contacting his colleagues and diligently working on his laptop to resolve the matter. He remained by your side until we could ensure everything was safe. Additionally, a police officer was assigned to patrol the area and provide you with constant support. "I hate this." As I glanced at the semi-painted room, I couldn't help but let out a little mutter to myself. Derek had been so kind to lend a hand, and together we had settled on the idea of a cozy dark purple for the walls. In the midst of it all, my brother had insisted on joining in to assist with the dresser. His presence and eagerness to help really gave us the boost we needed to make some headway..

"I know." He didn't even glance up at you as he kept his focus on the dresser. "They'll get her." You knew they would but when. You wanted this to be over. To go back to live without the constant fever of looking over your shoulder.

"I'm gonna go get some water." You pushed the box of diapers away and got up from the rocking chair. "Do you want some?" As you were leaving, your brother quietly mumbled sí to himself. In the kitchen, you casually picked up two glass cups and went to the fridge for some ice to add to one of them. Lost in thought, you were completely unaware of the person standing near the door, observing you quietly. It wasn't until you turned around and caught sight of them that a wave of alarm washed over you. In that moment, the cups slipped from your grasp and shattered on the floor, although the sound seemed distant as you noticed blood on the person's hands and the nearby knife. You felt an overwhelming urge to scream or say something, yet you found yourself frozen and unable to utter a word. As your brother hurried over, calling your name anxiously, he too froze when he saw the unsettling scene. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the terrifying sight before you, fearing the unknown.

"What are you doing here?" Your brother asked. TThe touch of the chilled water enveloping your feet served as a poignant awakening, a stark reminder that this was no figment of the imagination. It was real, all too real. As the corners of their lips curl into a sinister grin, an inexplicable shiver cascades down your spine, causing an eerie sensation to settle deep within the core of your being. A horrid feeling creeps into the depths of your gut, intensifying the gravity of the situation.

She was in front of you.

She was here.

"I came to see my kids." Her voice sounded muffled in your ears as a ringing grew. "To see my grandkid." Her eyes drifted to your visible bump and you were quick to place a hand over it in an attempt to shield it from her gaze. "Pero están tratando de mantenerte lejos de mí. (But they're trying to keep you away from me.)" She took a step closer and you backed up. "Ese hombre horrible. (That horrible man.)" Her face twisted into a nasty frown. "No te preocupes, Mami está aquí para salvarte. (Don't worry, mommy is here to save you.)" She raised the blood knife up.

"Stay away." As your hand instinctively grabbed onto one of the drawers, a rush of emotions surged through you. The sound of Derek's voice echoed in your mind, reminding you that there was always a concealed gun hidden here, a means to protect yourself. She shook her head at you before taking another step and you were quick to pull the drawer open. A cool sensation brushed against your trembling hand as you grasped the metal object, the weight of it empowering you in that moment. With a mix of fear and determination, you raised the weapon and directed it towards her, your mouth tightly clenched, willing yourself to stay strong. "Stay away!" You didn't know how she managed to get in but you didn't want her closer. Your grip tightened around the quivering gun, desperately attempting to steady it with both hands. In the midst of the chaos, her laughter erupted into the air, echoing with a touch of hysteria as her head arched backward ever so slightly.

"You can't shoot me." She couldn't help but mock you, a subtle smirk dancing on her lips as she rolled her head to the side. Meeting your gaze with a distinct taunting glint in her eyes, she dared you to challenge her. "You're too weak to harm me. Besides, you can't kill the women who birthed you. It's not how I raised you." In that moment, a surge of overwhelming emotion threatened to consume you. Your every instinct screamed at you to let out the pent-up frustration and anger. You longed to confront her, to show her that you were capable of unleashing that fury upon her. But alas, as you stood there, trembling with a mix of determination and fear, your voice betrayed you. Despite the rising tremors in your body, she continued to move forward. Every step she took only fueled your desire to protect, to defend. And then, your brother, sensing the imminent danger, swift and agile as ever, sprang into action. With lightning speed, he lunged towards her, attempting to intercept the menacing knife. Yet, she managed to evade him. Time seemed to grind to a halt as you watched in horror. You could almost feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as your brother made another valiant attempt to grab hold of her, desperate to avert the impending tragedy. But fate had a different plan in store. Without a moment's hesitation, she mercilessly thrust the knife into his torso.

"Why are you making me do this?!" She cried out as she pulled the knife back. He gasped, his face contorted in agony, as he clutched his injured side, grappling to endure the searing pain. "You made me do this!" She pointed the blade at him with a fierce determination, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. And then, without hesitation, she thrust it into his shoulder, an act that sent waves of agony through his body. The sheer intensity of his howl pierced through the air, and he stumbled backwards, crashing onto the unforgiving ground. A pool of crimson quickly formed around him. In that moment, fear gripped your heart, threatening to consume you whole. The question loomed in your minds like a haunting melody: what wouldn't she do? What lengths wouldn't she go to, to inflict harm upon you and your innocent unborn child? As she took one deliberate step after another, the desperation in her eyes only fueled their resolve to protect your baby and your brother. But your brother, wounded and weakened, summoned every ounce of strength he had left. He reached out, defiantly grasping at her leg, desperately pleading for mercy. Yet, she callously kicked him aside, her disdain echoing in her venomous words. It was then, in that pivotal moment, that you knew there was no turning back. Without a second thought, you summoned every ounce of courage within you. Your finger poised, lingering above the trigger of the weapon that lay in your trembling hand.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air, breathing life into the resolute fire burning within your soul. And then, with unwavering determination, you pressed the trigger. The sound of the gunshot reverberated through the room. The recoil jolted through your body, a visceral reminder of the power you held in your hands. As you pulled the trigger once more, your aim steady and true, the bullet collided with her abdomen. The shock etched across her face, a vivid portrayal of her demise, before she crumpled helplessly to the ground. Time seemed to stand still as you surveyed the aftermath, the pooling blood serving as a grim reminder of the harsh reality that had unfolded before your eyes. For a fleeting moment, you were lost in the depths of your own thoughts, caught in the gravity of the situation. But your brother's voice snapped you back to reality, his urgent cries of your name calling you into action. With tears blurring your vision, you stumbled towards the phone, your trembling fingers dialing Derek's number. Each shaky breath caught in your throat as you struggled to form coherent words. Overwhelmed by emotion, your cries fell freely, staining the air with your anguish. And then, like a guardian angel, Derek burst through the door, his eyes filled with concern, clutching his own weapon tightly. His gaze fell upon the grisly scene, the blood splattered across the room, and he wasted no time in springing into action. With a sense of urgency, he rushed to your injured brother, his familiarity and expertise offering a glimmer of hope in this sea of chaos. Meanwhile, Emily, a steadfast presence amidst the turmoil, attended to the woman. At that moment, the rest of the team arrived. Reid seamlessly transitioned into Derek's place. And as Derek approached, leaving no distance between you, you found solace in his comforting presence, a beacon of light amidst the darkness.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly. He reached out to touch you but the blood on his hands stopped him.

"I didn't know what else to do." Your voice sounded different. Raspy and raw from the crying. The shock hadn't left you. "She stabbed him." He could see you shaking and it broke his heart. He should have been here with you.

"It's okay, baby." He pulled you to his chest. "She can't touch you now." He comforted, placing a kiss on your head.

~~~~~~~~~

You shuffled into the kitchen, a slight ache in your lower back reminding you that your due date was just one week away. The imminent arrival of your little one filled your heart with both excitement and a hint of anxiety. For the past four weeks, you had experienced the relentless Braxton Hicks contractions, some days catching you off guard and others testing your endurance. Today; however, was a blend of both sensations. The sleepless nights had taken their toll, thanks to the persistent Braxton Hicks and your baby's ceaseless movements. Seeking solace, you reached for the dates Penelope had recommended to induce labor. As you filled a bowl with these miraculous fruits, your fingers brushed against your favorite tea, a comforting presence in the midst of this late-night ritual. Leaning on the kitchen counter, you took a bite of a date, savoring its sweetness, while simultaneously turning the pages of the book you held in your other hand. Time seemed insignificant in the wee hours of the morning – there was no need to glance at the clock. It was always 3 a.m., the same time that had greeted you for the past four weeks, disrupting your sleep and creating a rhythm of its own.

As the final date disappeared into your mouth, a sudden rush of wetness spread across your legs, freezing you in place. Your gaze dropped to the water pooling at your feet, and in that instant, realization struck. Your water had broken. A sharp pang on your lower right side caused a hiss of pain to escape your lips as you grabbed some paper towels, instinctively trying to clean up the mess. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you called out for Derek, your voice carrying through the quiet apartment. It didn't require much volume; he would hear you. Tossing the damp paper towels in the trash, you made your way down the hallway with a sense of urgency. The need to change out of your now-drenched pants became paramount, as you couldn't bear the thought of walking around in such discomfort. "Derek," you called out again, this time allowing your voice to carry a touch more authority, watching as he jolted awake, responding to the urgency in your tone.

“What’s wrong? Is the baby okay?” He pushed the blanket off of him and his eyes glanced at you.

“My water broke.” Your back was faced towards him and you dug for some shorts and a new pair of underwear.

“I’ll get the bags.” He was quick to move around the room. You didn’t say anything as you focused on changing and slipping on your sandals. It didn’t take Derek long to get you in the car as he drove off to the hospital. “How are you doing?” You worked on breathing evenly, trying to calm the beating of your heart that seemed to echo in your ears.

“I’m okay.” He gently reached over and took hold of your hand, providing you with comfort in that moment. As you leaned back in your seat, you instinctively squeezed his hand, finding solace in his presence. With closed eyes, you tried to remain calm despite the overwhelming fear swirling inside you. The thought of becoming a parent seemed daunting and uncertain. Derek, fully aware of the urgency of the situation, drove as swiftly as possible towards the hospital. Upon arrival, he wasted no time in rushing to your side of the car, eager to assist you. Walking together towards the entrance of the ER, Derek guided you, his support unwavering. Once inside, the diligent nurses promptly attended to your needs, ensuring you were taken care of with utmost care and efficiency. After that, the labor stretched on for what felt like an eternity, enduring five arduous hours filled with moments of both agony and anticipation. But the sheer bliss that enveloped your heart when you could finally cradle your precious little girl in your trembling arms. In that awe-inspiring moment, Derek could not contain his overwhelming emotions. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he pressed a tender kiss upon your forehead, his voice trembling with profound admiration. He whispered words of sheer adoration, praising your strength and resilience, acknowledging the miraculous feat you had just accomplished. His devotion and admiration for you resonated in every word as he declared the boundless beauty of your baby girl, affirming the miracle that had graced your lives.

She was born May 18th, 2007 at 8:30 in the morning. She weighed 5 pounds 9 ounces and was 17 inches. A healthy and beautiful baby girl.

Ximena Cassandra Morgan.

#derek morgan x reader #criminal minds derek #derek morgan #derek morgan imagine #criminal minds derek morgan #criminal minds morgan #morgan #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader

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spockandawe · 1 year

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Here we go, one of the cnovels I bound last month! Mistakenly Saving The Villain is dark, but look. Look. I keep compulsively browsing the black belly tag on NU and trying to figure out why some of these work so well for me and some really don't. This one REALLY DOES. Do mind all the tags, it really is as dark as it sounds, but the ending is happy and the heavy topics are treated with respect. Emotionally destroyed me in the best way! I won't spoil it, it takes some TURNS, but having a modern med student transmigrate into a fantasy doctor's body, while pretending he knows danmei tropes and actually barely having any familiarity with the genre? That is a FABULOUS premise, and then the story develops from that point in wonderful, fascinating ways

I knew I wanted to go for heavy red coloring, and god, picking ONE fabric was absolutely agonizing. But this is a very nice product line that I've used for cnovels before, but a fabric from that line I've never touched! The vibes were fantastic, but I won't lie, sometime I'd love to give this a single-volume treatment at least once, using one of my alternate fabric choices. I kept to the red (and a little yellow) for the endpapers, and kept my typesetting choices sleek, but sharp, and very slightly worn.

And I wasn't going to do foil on the covers, but then I realized I had RED foil, and I mean.... I had to. This month I experimented a lot with low-contrast foil choices rather than ones selected to pop, and they each have their place, but I enjoyed this approach a lot! The busy fabric and low-contrast accent wouldn't be the right choice for every book, but I really enjoyed it here, it felt right. These were books 58 and 59 of the month, so I was really worried I would be too tired and make unforced errors putting this together, but.... nope! I'm delighted with the whole thing! This was a really delightful note to close out the month on, and I love it a lot!

#mistakenly saving the villain #crafts #bookbinding #binderary #binderary2023 #i didnt have space to mention kong muhua my beloved #or how much i love both leads #but this book really got me on all fronts XD

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red-bat-arse · 3 months

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I Got a Problem 🎸🎶🎻

AO3

Chapter One/Two

Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, famous for bringing rock to new heights with his band Hellfire, listens to everything but Country. 'King' Steve Harrington, leading light of the new generation of traditional Country artists, has a few thoughts about that.

=<+>=

Eddie made himself go into the studio, even though he felt sick to his stomach at the idea of another fruitless session. He'd just feel worse if he stayed home -he'd lay in bed all day with his brain running in circles about getting into his office and working, and he'd keep thinking about it until the sun went from risen to set and he fell back asleep, exhausted from doing fuck all.

So he pulled into the lot and grabbed his traveller thermos to keep him going until someone made him take a break for lunch, and he trudged inside, waving over at Claudia as he passed reception. She looked extra busy, on the phone and typing at the same time, so he didn't stop until the elevator brought him upstairs and he pushed into the lounge room, beelining straight for the coffee machine.

It was weirdly busy in the halls for this early. Sure they were old school at Prison Break and it was an unspoken rule that at least half of everyone's work should be done in house, but the kids usually left it to the afternoon and Wayne preferred his late nights where he could chat with Hop and the guards as long as he liked. Granted, Eddie hadn't done much but hole up in a recording booth these last few months, but he was usually pretty solid on his friends' schedules.

Then the drawl made it to his ears, and he realized one crucial point he'd failed to take into account -country artists were morning people.

"Morning, Munson," was called over, and when he glanced in their direction it was... well, he was pretty sure he knew the kid, the younger of Mama Byers' two sons. The girls looked familiar from the party last week, but otherwise he was drawing a blank.

"Uh, hey," he raised a hand, not really in the mood to socialize. His mind kept drifting back to the unfinished songs on his computer and the sound techs he kept having to put off talking to about production ideas. But he already dug his grave with Harrington, he supposed he should play nice with some of the rest of them; while the pot was filling he meandered over and glanced down at the papers scattered on the table. "Album art?"

The kid -Bill? Will? Yeah, Will -nodded, smiling shyly. "I said I'd do some sketches up for Mike's EP -uh, we got to talking at the party," he ducked his head, and Eddie pulled a nearby one over to inspect it. It kind of reminded him of his classic D&D manuals, and he guessed it'd suit the medieval imagery Mike favoured. "I'm not planning on recording anything right now, so it'll keep me busy. I really liked the painting you chose for The Wrong Road -I heard you and Grant did it yourselves?"

Another country boy who knew his work, would wonders never cease? "Yeah, Grant and I workshopped it. I'm sure I've got the sketches around if you ever wanna see them," he offered, and Will nodded quick. "And you ladies are...?"

A prim little brunette in a ruffled shirt and a blonde who would've looked like a cheerleader if she wasn't wearing an oversized flannel and one of the biggest belt buckles he'd ever seen. "Chrissy Cunningham, charmed," the blonde said with a giggle and an exaggerated accent, holding up her hand like a lady in a period drama. When Eddie went to take it she shifted smoothly into a firm handshake. "And this's Nancy Wheeler. It's real nice to be at a good label finally, thanks for putting up with the tight quarters on such short notice."

"It's no problem," Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged, one eye on the coffee machine. He could almost feel the shadow of an idea for a chord coming on, if he could just get his joe and go. "Tiger really as shitty as they say?"

"Whatever you've heard, it was worse," Nancy said, crossing her arms. "Thank god Steve finally got to everyone. I was really to shoot my way out."

"Nancy also shoots pistol competitively," Will piped up helpfully.

"It was... restrictive," Chrissy said with the air of someone holding themselves back, especially with the way Nancy snorted derisively. "Especially to us girls. Purity rings, attending church, that sort of thing -Steve was the one who convinced us we could walk away, and hired a lawyer so we could take our work with us. Even though he-"

"We're very glad to be at Prison Break," Will interrupted, nodding up at Eddie. "Especially me and Jonathan, because Chief Hopper brought Mom in with such a good contract, we don't all have to work extra. We can just focus on the music, or my art, or anything."

"And once we're done with the new album, Hopper said we're free to record solo work. Never would've gotten that from Tiger," Nancy smiled, satisfied, and Eddie suddenly recalled she was one of the Harrington quartet. Her and the elder brother Byers and one other girl. "Is anyone on your team good with percussion?"

Eddie had exactly zero interest in discussing how percussion could work into a good old square dance, or whatever. Luckily he was saved from more talking by the shrill beep of the coffee machine, and he waved himself off with a half promise to ask if Grant was still dabbling in trumpet as of late.

As he filled the thermos up, he turned over what 'worse than you've heard' could mean. He knew he'd been lucky in both labels he'd signed with over his career, thanks to Wayne, but everyone heard the horror stories eventually.

Tiger Studios had always flown under the radar, a bigger record label on the other side of the city from Prison Break that catered exclusively to Country singers in much the same way PB used to cater to hard rock. Honestly, Eddie was a little behind the times, since even before the accident he'd been focused on the album, the tour, and helping plan Jeff's impending nuptials.

Of course, he heard the gossip the past few weeks. One artist dropping their label was rare, let alone ten at once like happened at Tiger. Harrington's lawyer must be fucking amazing to pull that shit off, although there were rumours of the execs only backing off because of some pretty hefty accusations flung their way. The kind of shit that made Eddie thank god for Wayne and Hopper whenever he thought about it too hard.

And in the middle of it all, or at the helm, was 'King' Steve Harrington, risen star of Country at large. Most of the references went over his head, but when someone was called a modern day Garth Brooks, well, that wasn't a light title to bear, even Eddie could say that. It'd be the metal equivalent of a new Ozzy Osbourne -it could happen, but increasingly unlikely as time went on. Harrington, who apparently convinced all the others to leave, and ensured they actually could -that was closing in on Dio territory if he really got away with it without a hitch.

He wasn't too sure if he actually had, though. He caught Chrissy's little slip, before Will broke in; but in the end, it wasn't any of his business. Harrington was here now, signed with them all neat and legal-like, so he'd obviously fought his own battle and come out the victor. The details would probably reach him eventually.

For now, he twisted the lid on his coffee and turned to go, grabbing a banana when his stomach twinged in protest. As he left, Mike and El came in with two more of the country club, and all four called after him their good mornings, more chipper than he was used to so early.

Eddie waved over his shoulder, already wanting to just go home and sleep. He shifted his thermos to his better hand and trudged up to his usual booth anyway. He couldn't keep the band on hiatus forever.

The trend continued through the next while; every time Eddie walked in, no matter what time of day or which floor he was on, the studio seemed more bustling and lively than ever before. Part of it was just that an extra ten people, and a few more security and special technicians and the like, just meant it was natural. But, grudging as he had to admit, the country club were all around just happy to have a space to work on their music and weren't shy about interacting with everyone. Even Eddie, who was probably the least approachable besides Hopper and in a perpetual bad mood besides, he found himself getting pulled into little talks with them on his brief forays into the lounge -although it was mainly Chrissy, who was the most personable of the whole lot.

It probably helped that she smoked about as much as he did, and they swapped a few tips between them to break the ice. Or, she smoked as much as he did on a good day. Lately he was tearing his hair out over his writers block more often than not, so he was smoking nearly every night when he got home, and a bit on his lunch breaks when it really got bad. That was probably why he put his foot in his mouth the way he did, about two weeks into Prison Break's new normal.

Eddie was at the tail end of a string of bad days, and not just because of the dead end of working on the album. Monday was the five year anniversary of his old man dying in jail of a heart attack, which already put him off completely. He was on pins and needles for days, irritated at the slightest reminder and getting reminded at every turn, which sucked because even the good memories were all tinged with hurt by now. Then he cut his hand open on a tin of tomatoes at home like an idiot, which was probably the worst because it meant he couldn't even write when the rare burst of inspiration hit him. He didn't need stitches, but it was a close thing.

After that, it all snowballed. He was frustrated, so he tried to work it out on his laptop -he couldn't get the lyrics to work, so he fiddled with the arrangements he'd written down -when he couldn't visualize how the sounds would mesh, he stomped down to one of the empty booths to play previous recordings back until they poured out of his ears and he was ready to scream. All that, so when lunch or his inevitable breaking point came by he was first out to the courtyard to light up and try to smoke the stress away.

Usually, at work, it was just cigarettes. Today, Eddie sucked down half a joint and the sandwich he brought from home and then went up to claim a booth.

Today, though, his usual booth was occupied. Today, he came into the observation area to see Steve Harrington and the elder brother Byers sitting inside, no sound techs or anything around, picking on their guitars and bickering back and forth about lyrics and timing for the fiddle to come in on the chorus.

And the fucking song was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

"I don't blame this brewski for sweatin' like it's guilty of something," Harrington sung jauntily, hamming it up for Byers, who rolled his eyes but obliged with picking out a tune. Eddie had stopped dead when he realized they were working, if you could call a song apparently about feeling bad for drinking a 12 ounce on the water work, and watched with his blood boiling as Harrington sketched out a whole song in a few minutes.

He found himself horribly jealous, not something he often had to deal with, at the ease with which it seemed to come to Harrington. Sure, it wasn't exactly fucking Mob Rules being written in there but it was leaps and bounds more than Eddie was accomplishing at the moment, and he clenched his fists as the pair inside busted up laughing at their own silly song.

Harrington even broke out a stupid, embarrassing Elvis impression for the end of one of the last choruses, which Byers suggested they leave in. Like they were completely fucking around with this in one of Prison Break's good recording rooms, completely unaware that there were other people who wanted to use it to work on serious projects. Not on three chord nonsense songs that talked about the fish not biting at the fucking lake.

Eddie didn't know how long he stood there fuming but unable to make himself interrupt, but it must have been a good while because when Byers pushed open the connecting door and saw him, his knees were sore when he unlocked them.

"Uh, hey man, didn't notice you," Byers said awkwardly, one eyebrow raised at whatever expression was on Eddie's face right now. He didn't dwell on it, just looked back at Harrington as if Eddie wasn't even there. "You good with me taking off early?"

"Yeah, man, go get Baby Byers," Harrington waved him off, flashing those pearly whites again. Bigger Byers nodded, and kind of skirted around Eddie as best he could, his guitar on his back -the door to the hall swung shut with a click, leaving him alone with Harrington.

The other man stood up and stretched, no less put together here than at the party a few weeks back. This time it was a little polo ensemble, brown and cream to match the boots again, a big blue buckle on the belt to go with the blue jeans on his ass. That ticked Eddie off too.

"What's up with you, Munson?" Harrington asked, barely glancing his way as he packed up his songbook. "Did you finally figure out your hair needs conditioner instead of twelve in one?"

"Ha. Funny," Eddie sneered, making Harrington actually look at him. He could feel the frustration from hell week bubbling over, eager for an easy target he already didn't like. "Don't you get tired of singing that shit? Brewskis, Harrington? You've got to be embarrassed."

Harrington straightened up, one hand on his belt, the other with a few loose papers held firmly in front of him. He leveled Eddie with an almost bored look, huffing once like he didn't have a care in the world, like Eddie was the weird one here.

"Beer on the lake, fish in the water, might as well put a truck and a pretty girl in there, get a bingo card," Eddie went on, even more irritated at the non-reaction. "What, not enough songs on the album about drinking already?"

"No, man, it's just a fun one," Harrington said, shoulders shrugging. "It's not that serious."

"It's a waste of time is what it is," Eddie threw up his hands, the first big movement since he'd walked in, and oh, god, ow. "You could actually sing about something important, y'know."

Finally that seemed to make Harrington twitch. "Y'know, Munson, you're being pretty judgey right now. You don't know what is or isn't important to me."

"You're gonna tell me a song about demolishing a pack of crap beer by a lake is important to you," Eddie said, stung by the reprimand, if only because Harrington was right. He was kind of losing his grip on why he was even in here, why he'd even come in today when he felt so bad. "Look me in the eyes and say that. Go on!"

Eddie half expected Harrington's expression to go steely, kind of like when he'd been interrupted by Murray at the party.

Instead, Harrington cracked a smile and shrugged again. He dropped his notebook in his messenger bag and put his hands on his hips, tilting his head to look at Eddie up and down, inspecting him.

"Does it have to be without laughing? Cause I don't think I can make it," he crossed his arms and pursed his lips, a little furrow appearing in his forehead. "Are you okay, Munson? You don't look so good."

"I'm fucking fine," Eddie grit out.

"Alright," Harrington held up his hands. "Then, no, a song about a pack of beer ain't that important. But I still think you're being harsh. I get you don't like my music, but you don't have to go out of your way to antagonize me, man."

"I'm trying to be helpful, man. I don't want you laughed off stage when you break out your cringey little Elvis bit," Fuck, why couldn't he just stop? Not everything that reminded him had to be fucking attacked, but now with Harrington actively engaging him, it was almost like he'd passed the point of no return. "If I'm thinking it, so are other people."

Harrington rolled his eyes hard. "And if everyone told me to jump off a bridge, I'd say sure, which one! Do you hear yourself, Munson? I thought rock was supposed to be all about counterculture."

"Rock is an outlet. Sorry for caring about what I put out into the world, I guess I just don't want to embarrass my fans," he'd gotten closer to Harrington at some point, and it was weird -the way his blood was pumping, he almost felt good for the first time in who knew how long. "Or my label for that matter."

Harrington cracked. "I don't put out songs to please the fans, asshole, or any fucking label. I've got fans because they like the music I make. Sure you ain't a little confused?"

"No, I've got it. You've got low standards," Eddie smirked and relished the offence written on Harrington's stupid pretty face.

"Well, at least I can still make music," he said, finally angry, and Eddie flinched back like he'd been slapped. "You're right, Munson, I'm glad to put out a hundred songs that are corny and cringey, because at least they're genuine. How long's Hellfire been on hiatus now, seven months? You ever think the reason you can't spit out a single track anymore is because you're too wound up your own ass and stuck there, you fucking prick?"

In the ringing silence after that, Eddie's mouth dropped open and he felt his face go pale. Harrington's eyes went wide and he muttered a curse under his breath, instant regret plain as day on his face.

"God, Munson, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"You obviously fucking meant it," Eddie snarled, but it was weak, and his head was swimming. His hands were trembling at his sides, heat crawling up his neck at the realization he'd been an unwarranted asshole and brought this on himself. Just another shit day on the tail end of a shit week of a shit seven months. "Fuck this, I can't fucking think anymore. I'll stay out of your fucking hair, Harrington."

"No, wait, man, is something wrong-"

"I said I'm fucking fine!" Eddie stepped forward and shoved Harrington back when he looked about to come close, and didn't feel any better. In fact, when the guy only looked more concerned, he felt about ten times smaller, and his stomach lurched like he was going to be sick.

"Have fun with your goof off anthems, man. I've got actual music to work on."

He ignored anything else Harrington might have said and spun on his heel, out the door in two long strides and down the hall in five. He couldn't stand the idea of an enclosed elevator right now, so he pushed into the stairwell and thundered down the three flights to the ground floor, tunnel vision getting him out the back and into the parking lot in record time.

He was such a fucking idiot. Why did he do that? Why did he see Harrington and go completely off the rails like an absolute lunatic -it wasn't even his fault that country just -jesus christ, he must think he was crazy-

Eddie let out a strangled laugh and fumbled his keys to the ground, reaching down and grabbing them after a shaky minute. He probably shouldn't be driving.

He got into his car anyway, put the keys on the dashboard and sat there like a weirdo staring straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel tight enough to make his fingers ache.

Maybe Harrington was right.

Maybe every shitty thing he'd ever heard from a tabloid was right -that he was a fucking snob who took himself too seriously, and was only making music for the money. There were people who thought he didn't even like making music, and after seven months of this, how could Eddie refute them?

He didn't like it anymore. The thought made his teeth chatter and his brain shy away, but it was true. Ever since he woke up in the hospital and got his expected recovery time on a little note card, he'd dreaded picking up a guitar again. When he finally forced himself to, the chords didn't come easily anymore, and all he could hear was the echo of Jeff's horrified scream. He put it down and tried to write lyrics, but everything was too dark, or too confusing, or made Gareth's face pinch when he looked over the cue cards. He stopped being able to write them not long after.

He didn't like making music. Eddie gagged on nothing and curled in on himself, shivering even in the warm air. He hated making music! He was up his own ass about the album, and getting back on the horse for the fans, and writing these fucking asinine songs about pointless, serious topics that the charts would love and the magazines would rave over and-

Even if he did write it, he wouldn't be able to tour. It hit him like a brick that if he could barely pick up his guitar in the studio, how the hell was he supposed to walk back on stage after what happened? How the fuck was he supposed to play live with all those people watching him when he couldn't even play for himself?

Oh god, he'd never make another album-

Eddie jolted in his seat at that particular thought and fumbled for his keys again, getting them in the ignition with nausea rolling in his stomach. He couldn't think about that right now. Not here in his car where anyone could see -not five minutes after making a complete awful fool of himself and running away like a coward. He had to get home and get in bed and hide. He had to get somewhere safe to freak out.

He didn't remember the drive home, but he got there. Ben took one look at him and ushered him in, accompanying him into the elevator and taking his keys from him to open his door once they reached his floor. The doorman got him inside and tried to fuss, but Eddie loudly thanked him and asked him to go, so he did, reluctantly.

Eddie got to his bedroom, crawled under the covers, and curled himself into a ball.

Maybe he'd never make another record.

Maybe he'd be on hiatus for forever and let down all his fans and Hopper. He'd let down his band, and his uncle, and he'd disappoint his Momma, and he'd never make another album because-

-because he was scared of doing another live show and getting hurt again, and he couldn't write lyrics anymore because everything was wrong in his head, and he couldn't pick up a guitar anymore because his hand wasn't right anymore-

Because he didn't check. Because he fucked up just like always, just like he'd fucked up today by not walking out the minute he heard twangy guitar and let himself get reminded of his shit Dad and how he used to hurt him and-

-Eddie was just-

-he was just-

-so tired.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #musician au #country star #rock star #fic #fanfic #st fanfic #fanfiction #enemies to lovers #hurt/comfort #cross posted on ao3

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jedi-lothwolf · 9 months

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Codywan Week Day 5: Sith Au

Summary: Obi-wan mysteriously disappears halfway through the Clone War. Cody is left wondering what happened to him and one day gets his answer.

Note: Mando'a used: Hut'uun (coward, the worst insult) and Cyare (beloved/loved). More at the bottom for after the story. Enjoy!

When Count Dooku told Obi-wan everything the Jedi had done to Sifo Dyas he started to think harder about his life. Slowly Dooku clawed his way in Obi-wan's mind and prospective.

They talked around the beginning of the war and now a year and a half had gone by. A lot happens in eighteen months. Including Obi-wan falling in love with his commander. He told him how he felt around six months before the Jedi disappeared.

Cody had a difficult time adjusting to his new general and even longer to realize Obi-wan was gone. The 212th watched his closely. They hadn't known that the two were so close.

Now, a year and eight months into the Clone War a new sith emerged. The Jedi panicked internally as they could barely contain the ones they had.

The sith was around 5'10 with auburn hair that had a single braid in it. He wore long, black robes with red accents. His face was concealed by a black mask. Some said he had bright red eyes while most said they were brown or burnt orange.

One thing was for sure. He was dangerous. Even if he didn't seem to be fond of killing things; which was strange for a sith; he could and would if necessary.

Somewhere in Cody's mind be wondered if it was possible for the sith to be Obi-wan. Even if it didn't make sense and Obi-wan would rather be dead than a sith, in the back of him mind he hoped it was him.

It made the clone sick to think about. Why would he want Obi-wan to be behind that mask? He knew that it was cruel to hope, but he did.

Learning he wasn't the only one was strange. Anakin and Cody had gotten close, both sharing the unimaginable loss of a loved one. Cody even told him about their relationship.

The 212th marched to the battlefield. As the fight raged on, they found themselves facing the new sith.

Obi-wan wasn't ready. He saw Cody's armor through all the chaos and suddenly he regretted everything. Designing to ignore it was his best idea.

Cody took one look at the man and sent a message over the comms, "Sith." That was all he needed to say. He looked back to the field and dreaded the fatality number this battle would have.

As the two got closer, Cody noticed something. The hair, the style, the almost knee high boots; they all looked familiar. His eyes had a look in them the man had long seen a few times. "Obi-wan?" He whispered. No that couldn't make sense. Obi-wan would never turn.

The sith turned to face Cody. The air was gone from the field as they realized something. No longer were they on the same side.

"Obi-wan!" Cody's voice ran through the field. This couldn't be happening. Obi-wan wouldn't do this to him. He wouldn't hurt anyone he didn't have to.

Obi-wan looked away. He never wanted to hurt Cody. He never truly wanted to hurt anyone. Dooku wanted control. He had wormed his way into the Jedi's mind and manipulated him into helping him.

Obi-wan Turned to face Cody again. They approached each other. "You fucking traitor!" The clone yelled, his voice cracking.

"I know." Obi-wan spoke softly.

As Cody approached the man he called off his droids. He allowed the clones to shoot them down, all he wanted to do was talk to his commander.

"Hut'uun! Take off that mask!" He swung to take it off but Obi-wan beat him to it.

"Of course, cyare" He let it rest in his hand.

"Don't you dare call me that!" Cody met Obi-wan's eyes. They weren't cold or hateful. They were just... sad.

Cody's hatred faded. Obi-wan was lost. The darkness had scuffed out the little flicker he had left. He wasn't sure what to do.

The clone couldn't just let Obi-wan drown. He loved him dearly but he couldn't let him leave. Resting a hand on the sith's shoulder, he sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"What?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Obi-wan was silent for a moment. Cody knew what to do. Carefully he switched his gun from kill to stun. Kenobi knew but didn't stop him.

Quickly Cody pulled his gun and shot Obi-wan. With tears in his eyes he turned back to his men. "Finish the droids off. Someone take Kenobi."

One of the men grabbed the man and took him into custody. Cody wasn't sure how he was going to explain any of this. He wasn't sure that he was right or that he should have given Obi-wan a chance. The truth would just have to come out when he was on trial.

@codywanweek

Another note: I wasn't sure how to write it but Obi-wan did fall because of manipulation from Dooku. I think that can be gotten from the story but I wasn't really sure and wanted to explain it lol.

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #obi wan star wars #tcw commander cody #commander cody #cody x obi wan #obi wan x cody #codywan #codywanweek2023 #cww2023 #sith au #sith obi wan #obi wan #Obi-wan kenobi #clone wars

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cambion-companion · 11 months

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Intrigue and Insurgents Part II

Your discussion with the Zabrak insurgent makes you question your allegiances. Meeting with Senator Goru reveals Thrawn's ineptitude for politics. The two of you must work together to stop deadly machinations.

Words: 3,518

It had been relatively easy to crack the Zabrak woman; Sedaa is what she asked you to call her. Though by the tightening of her expression as she introduced herself, you could deduce she was lying. You winced inwardly, Thrawn was rubbing off on you.

At the thought of your Chiss companion you chanced a glance over your shoulder to where he was engaging two men dressed in lurid green clothing in conversation. They seemed quite taken by his appearance, green glasses and all, and you couldn't help but smirk a little.

It took you a little longer than you would've liked to gain information from Sedaa. She wasn't forthcoming at first...not until you posed as someone who sympathized with those plotting against the Empire. What she said next caught you off guard.

"The Empire forced me from my home." She said in a heavily accented voice, her yellow eyes narrowing at the unpleasant memories. "Razing my world for its natural resources, making it unlivable. We lived like slaves for many years. I was able to escape. But my family..." She trailed off and took a moment to collect herself. "My family was made an example of."

"Your heart sunk. You had been sheltered so far during your career in the Imperial Navy. This was the first time someone from the outside had told you what was happening. "You've climbed the ranks well enough by the looks of it." You hedged.

"I have taken advantage of the circumstances I found myself in." Sedaa agreed. "But my vengeance is never far from my mind." Her gaze flicked up to the clock tower atop which dined several important-looking people in familiar uniforms.

There it was. You hesitated a moment, wondering if you should push a little further. "Sounds like you have something planned."

Sedaa's eyes sharpened on your face, you felt the atmosphere shift. "I would suggest you leave this gala before the hands on the clock point together toward the stars." She moved to brush passed you, your nose filling with the smokey scent of her perfume. "Or stay. It matters little."

She seemed to melt into the crowd of colorfully dressed party-goers as she departed. You looked after her a moment before cutting your eyes across to where Thrawn had been before. He and the two men were gone. You cursed under your breath and began walking a little aimlessly while looking for where they'd gone to.

"Mistress Opaal, you seem to have lost your paramour." Your path was interrupted by the great mass of a man Senator Goru, a dribble of wine escaping his mouth to drip off his chin as he grinned and beckoned you closer.

You reluctantly approached, not wanting to anger the one person you might get more information out of. "You haven't seem him have you?" You widened your eyes, feigning an innocent and helpless expression.

Goru simpered just as you had wanted him to. "My dear, you are a pearl among sharks out here. Come with me to my table. Your elusive fiancée joined us already." He led the way through the crown, his sweaty hand grasping you uncomfortably by the upper arm. "I am shocked at the impropriety of Senator Rowaan not retrieving you before joining me to be frank. To leave a gem such as you alone for any amount of time is a faux pas."

You made a noise of assent, not bothering to object to Goru's remark, and half-agreeing with him. Thrawn should've known better....but you'd heard about how he was rather helpless in the face of political maneuvering, brilliant tactician as he seemed to be.

Senator Goru's table was lavish and large, quite like the man himself. Thrawn was standing on the edge of the large circular dance floor, seemingly observing the dancers swirling around to the light music. As you and Goru approached he turned, and his shoulders seemed to relax a little at the sight of you.

"Be careful misplacing such a lovely creature in the future, Senator Rowaan." Goru chastised, seemingly in good spirits as he gave you a genial push towards Thrawn.

Thrawn gave the Senator a rather stiff nod but had the good grace to clasp your elbow as you stumbled a little toward him. "Thank you for retrieving her."

You were tense, your eyes kept flicking to the large clock on the far wall. It was large and elaborate, much like everything else at this party, and you still seemed to have just over an hour before the hands met at the top signifying midnight.

Senator Goru was giving you and Thrawn an odd look as the two of you stood rather awkwardly beside each other, Thrawn's hand still light on your elbow.

His eyes narrowed as he gestured toward the dance floor. "Go on you two, I am not quite ready to entertain guests yet fascinating as you are." He sat heavily upon his chair and shooed you away with impatience. "It would do this old man some good to see a couple so in love as yourselves dancing beneath the stars."

The back of your neck prickled as you turned mechanically with Thrawn towards the crowd of dancers.

You took his hand, noticing how his whole arm tensed up. "You're going to have to try harder if you want our cover to remain in one piece." Your voice was heavy with annoyance, even as you tried to mask it.

Thrawn led you onto the dance floor and turned to face you, his other hand resting so lightly on your waist you barely felt it. Even with his eyes covered you could see his expression of grim annoyance. "I believe Senator Goru already suspects us."

You rolled your eyes slightly, your hand gripping Thrawn's as you began moving woodenly together in a sad excuse for dancing. "He certainly isn't buying our cover." You glanced to where Goru sat and saw him deep in conversation with none other than Sedaa. "We have bigger problems. Don't look now but he's talking to the Zabrak I spoke with earlier, she's definitely an insurgent." You told Thrawn the short version of what Sedaa had said to you. "So I suspect something is going to happen at midnight...when the two clock hands reach for the stars..."

"Interesting how Senator Goru suggested we 'dance beneath the stars'." Thrawn mused, seeming to take all this information in stride. "An odd turn of phrase, one would think." He paused. "Though perhaps that is simply an aspect of your language I have yet to learn?"

"No, no." You conceded, trying very hard to not look at Goru's table anymore. "You're right. It's too coincidental to be an accident." You winced as Thrawn tried guiding you left as you pulled towards the right. "I can't fathom how he could tell our cover is bogus. You could try to be a little more relaxed, you know."

"Correct me if I misstep, Captain, but I am almost certain it is up to the tallest dancer to lead. Which, in this case, is myself."

You grimaced, he was right of course. "Well at least you don't seem to be a complete lost cause."

Thrawn frowned slightly. "How do you mean?"

"This entire night you've been acting like I have a bad case of Wookiee-pox." You said a little more tersely than you'd intended. "Definitely not the best image of a newly betrothed couple. You behave like a military man, not a senator."

Thrawn's usually calm voice held a measure of exasperation now. "I admit this subterfuge approach would not have been my choice of action."

"Whose brilliant idea was it?"

He didn't answer, clearly he didn't know either.

You cleared your throat and leaned in closer to him while lowering your voice. "So, we have about an hour before Bantha fodder hits the proverbial fan. Do you have a plan?"

"Indeed." Thrawn nodded, leaning towards you in his turn. "A plan I've already set in motion."

You huffed an annoyed breath. "This isn't a competition, Thrawn."

"Isn't it?" Even through the green of his ridiculous glasses you could see the slight red glow of his eyes as you looked at each other, your noses almost touching at this point. "From the very beginning of this mission you have made it clear how you feel about me."

Your eyes narrowed, you didn't like the sudden swirling sensation in your chest at his proximity. "Have I?" You answered with your own question, you mouth suddenly very dry.

It look a few moments of this foreign tension between you two before you noticed you'd stopped moving altogether. You could feel Senator Goru's eyes boring a hole into your back along with several other onlookers.

Unexpectedly you felt the weight of Thrawn's hand on your lower back as he pulled you closer to him, his mouth at your ear. "Phase one begins at this moment. Are you willing to follow me?"

You had to blink back a sudden distracting haze from your mind at his warm breath on your neck. You chanced a glance at Goru who now wore an expression of more curiosity than suspicion. You ran your own hand up Thrawn's broad back. "I see you took my criticism to heart." You whispered back, leaning your chin on his shoulder.

"I'll admit my weakness in political shades of grey such as these." Thrawn murmured. "I am, however, a quick learner.""

"Clearly."

He pulled back only enough to stare down into your face and, for a wild moment, you thought he was going to kiss you. "Will you follow me?" He asked again.

You nodded and he took your hand again, leading you swiftly off the dance floor and out of Goru's line of sight.

Brisk fresh air washed over your face as Thrawn led the way through a small door at the side of the hall and onto a small balcony awash in silver moonlight. It was blissfully quiet when compared with the revelry from the gala and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself a moment to enjoy the silence as Thrawn closed the door behind you.

"Senator Goru is not a reliable contact." Thrawn was all business again, your skin felt cold as he dropped his grip on your hand and strode to the balcony railing.

"How did you reach that conclusion?" You followed him, your eyes sweeping across the sprawling cityscape before you turned to face him. "High Command gave us clear instructions to engage with Senator Goru about the insurgent activity."

Thrawn shook his head. "The men I spoke to confirmed Senator Goru has no fuel lines for insurgents to tamper with."

"He lied to us." You breathed, taking a moment to admire the absence of those awful green goggles Thrawn wore to hide his telltale Chiss eyes.

"He lied to us." Thrawn confirmed. He tilted his head at you slightly, an expression of curiosity creasing his features. "Is there something the matter, Captain?"

You'd been caught. Any modicum of emotion you felt was certain to be noticed by Thrawn. Your face flushed with embarrassment despite yourself, but you shook your head, annoyed at yourself. "I'm just happy you got rid of those glasses for a moment."

"They seem to give you personal affront." Thrawn's voice held humor now and a bit of confusion beneath it. "A subject we will need to revisit after the current threat is dealt with." He shifted gears like a professional pod-racer. "You said the Zabrak you spoke with alluded to midnight being the hour of their vengeance?"

You nodded, happy for the change of topic. "That's what she said."

"Ah." Thrawn seemed pleased. "The pieces fall together."

"Care to share with the class?" You raised your eyebrow and waited for him to explain.

Thrawn opened his mouth to speak just as the door leading to the secluded balcony burst open. "You aren't supposed to be out here!" You recognized Senator Goru's voice, strained with suppressed anger and suspicion.

As soon as the door opened, you acted, taking Thrawn's face in your hands and pulling him close while swiveling your positions so his back was facing the door. Your lips skimmed the side of Thrawn's face as you deftly took his glasses and replaced them on his face, satisfied by the fleeting look of surprise Thrawn gave you at your quick thinking. You pulled away from each other as though caught in an intimate embrace and Thrawn turned to face the Senator and his entourage while you feigned straightening your dress.

"My apologies, Senator." Thrawn smoothly bowed. "I was unaware this zone was off limits."

You grimaced internally at Thrawn's uniform choice of words and smoothly interjected yourself between the two men as Goru gave Thrawn a disbelieving once-over. "I apologize as well, it was my idea to find somewhere...more secluded." You batted your eyes at Goru. "You see, we've been disagreeing often of late and I wanted to go somewhere to...ease some tension."

Goru's face seemed to relax as he bought your story, his stern expression softening on your face. "Of course, I understand now." He chuckled a little unpleasantly. "And here I was thinking...well it's of little importance now. I'll leave you two to it, though don't take long. We still have matters to discuss."

Goru gestured for his guards to follow him back into the hall as he gave you and Thrawn one last lingering look.

When he was gone you let out the breath you'd been holding and turned to face your partner. "Well, that was close."

Thrawn gave you an appraising look. "I applaud your swift actions, however I fear they weren't enough to assuage the insurgent's suspicions."

You couldn't help but pout a little, your brow furrowing. "He seemed to buy it just fine."

"That is where you and I differ, Captain." Thrawn disagreed, striding to the balcony door and peering through for a moment. "By the nature of my species, I am able to see facial temperature differences in those I converse with." He continued speaking in a languid manner as you approached him and had a peek beyond the door as well. "Senator Goru's facial temperature is elevated beyond what I deem normal given the circumstances. He is stressed, alarmed even."

"Couldn't it be because of what he has planned for tonight?" You suggested hopefully. "Which, by the way, we still need to figure out."

"We have already been given all the clues we need, Captain." Thrawn said smoothly, finally looking down at you as he removed his glasses again and stowed them in his pocket. "Think about it." He prompted. "The insurgents want to restrict civilian casualties yet take as many Imperial lives as possible."

"But there aren't Imperials here tonight...aside from us..." You thought hard about what you'd seen and heard, unable to quite connect the dots.

"There are, in fact, several." Thrawn motioned you through the door and into the hallway surrounding the gala. It was secluded enough the two of you could move unnoticed. "Due to the clear threat of insurgent activity, where would they be?"

"Apart from the rest of the crowd, that much is obvious." You said, slowly following Thrawn as he skirted around the great hall, drawing nearer to the clock tower. You squinted at the tower. Yes, it was obvious now. There were people milling about at the top of the tall structure, and what looked to be troopers guarding them. Your steps faltered as realization struck. "They're going to blow up the clock tower, aren't they?"

"Not if we get there first." Thrawn's stride was long, and you jogged to keep pace.

"Shouldn't we warn them?" You suggested, panic rising despite your efforts to keep calm.

"We haven't the time."

"Regardless. They won't like you going over their heads like this." You glanced at the large clockface just before you and Thrawn entered the tower, indeed you only had several more minutes before the midnight hour. Thrawn stopped at the entrance and motioned you to go in first, his gaze fixed on something or someone over your shoulder.

"Stop them!" You heard someone shout from behind you.

You instinctively broke out into a run, Thrawn at your heels, sprinting up the stairs of the tower. You heard a massive crash behind you as Thrawn toppled an elaborate bookshelf to hopefully impede your pursuers for a precious few minutes.

At the very top of the clock tower there was a platform just behind the massive gears which turned the clock hands. With many wires and cannisters of what could only be some sort of gas, you saw an elaborate rough-made bomb of sorts, a singular red light blinking steadily as it marked each passing second.

Shouts and curses were heard from below as whoever pursued ran into the toppled bookcase.

"Here is where your area of expertise comes into play, Captain." Thrawn glanced from the explosive to you, slightly breathless. "I trust you know how to dismantle this contraption?"

"How did you...?" You shook your head, now wasn't the time. You knelt beside the heart of the bomb and began rummaging through the wires, looking for the right one as you'd been trained to do before joining the Empire. "Yes. This should be simple enough."

Simple it was. At least for a trained individual such as yourself. How Thrawn knew about your past you were keen to find out, given you survived this ordeal. With a click and mechanical whine the bomb powered down, just in time for several armed men to mount the last stairs, their weapons pointed directly at Thrawn as he moved smoothly to block you with his body.

You mimicked Thrawn's movements and raised your hands in surrender as Senator Goru moved passed his men and joined you on the platform, his face shining with perspiration. Sedaa was just behind him, her yellow eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of the dismantled bomb and your face. "I knew you were trouble."

You felt a twinge of guilt, an unfamiliar feeling. But Thrawn spoke before you got the chance to, drawing the attention off you. "It would be wise of you to surrender now, Senator."

"Me? Surrender?" Senator Goru seemed outraged. "You're the ones about to be executed by my men. You truly thought I bought into your little charade? Two Jawas could've put on a more convincing act."

The clock struck midnight, the sound of the chimes deafening, and despite your confidence you braced yourself.

"I know you are willing to give your lives for your cause." Thrawn continued after the chimes subsided. "That is why we didn't come alone tonight."

"We didn't?" You asked, suprised at this revelation.

"Indeed not, Captain." Thrawn confirmed just as the sound of more footsteps running up the stairs greeted your ears.

A squadron of troopers had arrived on the scene, easily outnumbering the insurgents and from there the standoff was over. It was an easy victory, and yet you couldn't feel the usual satisfaction of another successful mission as you watched Sedaa being roughly pushed back down the tower stairs. Her yellow eyes didn't leave your face, and you recalled all she had told you about what had happened to her and her family at the hands of the Empire.

"You look troubled." Thrawn approached you, glancing back at the bomb as troopers began dismantling the parts in earnest. He seemed to measure your expression and looked to where the Zabrak had disappeared moments before. "I imagine she divulged what prompted her to become an insurgent?" He asked gently.

You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip. "She did, and I didn't like what I heard."

"I imagine not." Thrawn agreed, but didn't push the topic further.

There was a moment of silence before you broke it. "You knew there would be a bomb."

"Yes." Thrawn confirmed, waiting for you to continue, his eyes on your face.

"You requested I accompany you on this mission, didn't you?"

"Yes." He said again.

"Unbelievable." You grunted, giving him a grudging smile.

"Is it?" He tilted his head, his voice holding a teasing edge.

"Not really." You laughed a little, looking over your shoulder at where the bomb had already been completely cleared away.

Thrawn held his arm out to you. "Come, we should get ready for our debriefing."

You hesitated to take his proffered elbow. "You know we don't have to pretend to be our aliases anymore."

Thrawn nodded a little pensively. "I know."

He didn't lower his arm, however, so you took it, feeling a little warm in the face. "I expect command won't be happy with us not following the proper protocol."

"I expect not." Thrawn guided you out of the tower and away from the milling crowd of curious onlookers.

The two of you had reached the far end of the room when the floor seemed to shake a moment, the only warning for what was to come. You felt Thrawn's arm reflexively wrap around your waist just before a massive explosion rocked the building, blowing you off your feet. You screamed, dust filled your lungs, and your vision went white. You were ripped from Thrawn's grip and your body was pushed through the air by a blast of heat. Something heavy hit the side of your head and you barely registered the pain of it before your world went dark.

#thrawn #thrawn fanfic #thrawn x reader #thrawn x oc #thrawn x y/n #thrawn x you #mitth'raw'nuruodo #grand admiral thrawn fic #grand admiral thrawn #star wars x reader #star wars rebels fanfic #chiss #thrawn drabble #thrawn fanfiction #chiss ascendancy #thrawn fic #thrawn oneshot #grand admiral thrawn x reader #mitthrawnuruodo

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teddyrizz · 7 months

Text

I wrote a quick fluff one-shot. I haven't written in a while so I don't know if it is good or not. I have to practice more. It's kind of bad 💔

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Some silly stuff

By: Teddyrizz

Reader x Loki???

Word count: 7.8k characters

Summary: You and Loki had gotten into an argument weeks prior. He didn't come back but now he was back to apologize.

Tags: Fluff, Some small angst? Reader x Loki, Simple one-shot, idk, short one-shot, My first Reader oneshot💔 Bad writing😞

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Set up: Reader’s bedroom

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A sound of desolate silence filled the room. It felt dreary and empty. The only thing that you could hear was the sound of your light breathing and the mechanical whirring of the ceiling fan. You thought he would come back after a day. You didn't expect that a single fight like all the others could result in days turning into weeks. It was heartbreaking. Not a single word was spoken between you and him after he suddenly vanished. You hoped he would come back.

“Maybe he went back to Asgard to process things.” or “He probably is busy with some issues that arose for him.”

That's what you told yourself. To stop worrying. But you could feel that nagging feeling inside of your chest… Inside of your pounding heart, that wasn't the case. You felt as if he left you on purpose. That he didn't care about you anymore. But that was impossible. He loved you like you were his. He yearned for you whenever you were near him. So what was that nagging feeling about?

You began to simply ignore it. The only thing you felt like doing was turning to see or feel that familiar warmth beside you, hoping to see- No. Wanting, Needing to see that he was there. But alas he wasn't there beside you. You didn't feel his touch. That lingering sensation on your skin wasn't there. The only thing you could feel was the bedding underneath your skin or your pajamas. It hurt your heart and almost broke it.

Why wasn't he there? You needed him. You missed him. It felt like you both were made for each other. Your soul, body, and mind were devoted to him. It was as simple as that. You couldn't understand why he left. He promised to stay. But you knew you couldn't always trust him for his words. As he was always a trickster.

The more you began to imagine all the possibilities of why he left. The more you felt like you were about to cry… And soon you felt your eyes become glassy and soon your heart began to hurt. As the tears began to form, you wished for him, wanting him there to comfort you, you were upset. More than that, you were heartbroken. How could the love of your life do something like this to you?

You wondered that question. Then soon the tears began to flow. You tried to stop it, tried to be mature and handle your emotions but couldn't. It was heart-wrenching for you. You needed him so badly that it made you cry. You kept on crying and crying. For what seemed like an eternity, your eyes were swollen and red. Your lips are swollen. Everything felt as if it were a void.

It felt lonely. You felt isolated. You felt tired. But then, it didn't feel so empty. You heard the light turn of a door knob.

Through your blurred vision, through the tears, you looked to see who it was. It was him. It was Loki. He looked sorrowful. He looked depleted. His eyes widened as he saw you crying. You wanted to shout in anger at him. You wanted to get mad at him. But all you could do was cry. You didn't want to get into another argument with him. Not now.

“Oh Norns… I…”

He said as his words got caught in his throat. You felt your emotions soften as you heard him speak. You haven't heard that tone in a while. That warmth in his voice. His accent. His tender words were like music to your ears… Even if they were so little. You could hear the emotion in his words. You knew then and there he missed you too. It made you feel safe.

He sighed after a few seconds. He didn't know what else to say. He wanted to comfort you and he knew that's what you needed. So he sat next to you. He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket, gently took your hands, and started to wipe away your tears. Slowly, you could feel your heart calming down and you started to calm down. All the time his thumb rubbed circles and lines into your palms. It was soothing and it made you feel better. Soon he spoke again.

“I am sorry for leaving like that… I never meant to hurt you…”

He looked straight into your eye. You could see regret in them. He felt guilty and ashamed of his actions. He hated the fact that he left you alone like that. He regretted hurting you. But most importantly… You still loved him even though he left you. You still cared. He felt relieved for having you by his side despite everything, he missed you. You still were his… But he just wanted to be with you more. It didn't matter what anyone else thought or how much they hated him.

“Please don't ever do that again.”

You replied. Your voice was slightly shaky but soft. You have calmed down quite a bit now. Though the tears weren't gone, it wouldn't take long until they would be. And that was fine with you. You wanted to forget about your pain. Forget about those stupid fights or about him abandoning you like everyone else in your life did. If anything, you could focus on yourself, not him. It sounded childish in your head, but you liked hearing such a silly idea.

“I promise. I wouldn't ever mean to hurt you. Although I… I act like I have ill intentions, I could never hurt you. Never. I swear…”

His voice trailed off. He didn't know how to put into words how much he cared and how much it bothered him to leave you without any explanation or reason at all. Why had he run off? How could he leave like that without a proper reason? Sure he could come back and tell you about whatever happened, but what was his excuse? He didn't even give you a good explanation for leaving like that. Just an empty, cold note on your nightstand… He couldn't help but feel horrible. And that only intensified when he looked up to see you looking at him. Tears were still in your eyes and you looked heartbroken. He wished that he could take it away for you. He hated seeing you this way.

“God… I'm so sorry… Are you mad at me?”

You were mad. You were hurt. But the feeling that you felt in your chest was stronger than the anger. It was stronger than the pain. You loved him. You were glad that he was here with you.

“I am… But I'm okay… It's just… I love you more than I'm mad at you… Don't disappear like that... Promise me you won't ever go away again.”

Loki smiled, he held your hands in his, and kissed the top of your fingers. He gave you a warm loving smile which you returned.

“I promise. I won't ever leave again… And if I hurt you…”

He paused. He didn't know how to phrase the rest of his words. How to make it sound true to his heart. He sighed softly. His hand reached up to your face, his nimble fingers brushed against the tears in your eyes. He wiped them away and spoke again.

“I swear. I would never hurt you on purpose. I wouldn't hurt you. If I do, I swear to only make you cry. I couldn't ever hurt you. Not on purpose at least… I don't think… Maybe, but that's something different…”

You chuckled lightly. It sounded like he kept repeating what he was saying over and over. But in truth, he wanted to reassure you that he wouldn't ever mean to hurt you. You wiped away more of the tears and nodded before smiling warmly at him.

“I believe you…”

A small soft smile formed across his features. He leaned towards your ear and whispered. It sounded husky. Like he really wanted to whisper to you. A shiver ran through your spine. And it felt pleasant. It made you smile.

“I promise. I will try my best to keep it. I'm here for you. I'm always going to be here. Because I love you…”

And he kissed the tip of your nose softly before pulling away. He stared at you and examined your features. His gaze softened… That soft look in his eyes was always a beautiful sight to see. He leaned towards you and pulled you into a hug. He began to cuddle you and rest his chin against yours. You melted into him and let him hold you close. He kissed the top of your head and hummed softly. He was content. Happy. Contentment was his favorite word to describe how he felt right now. Content. It didn't feel forced or fake. It felt real. There was no pressure or expectation. Just… Contentment.

For what seemed to be an eternity, there was complete silence between you two. Nothing else mattered other than the warmth of each others' bodies in which they were nestled together. Nothing mattered except for that moment in time. When nothing else mattered besides the two of you being together.

#loki #fluff oneshot #mcu oneshot #loki x you #some angst #idk what to tag this as #silly #loki x reader #loki oneshot

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mlmxreader · 1 year

Text

Aching For You | John Price x m!reader

anonymous asked: Can I request Price with “Just remember it’s for love”?

summary: Price comes home from deployment, and finally managed to pull you out of your own feelings.

tws: the word fag is used in the context of British slang, swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Shadows danced so sweetly across the windowsill, the moon so bright and so full that it looked like it had been ripped out of a film, the sound of foxes and badgers wandering around outside and calling their young filled the air; but the night wasn't all that great. It was lonely, incredibly lonely; to be alone on such a night, was little more than a punishment if anything.

A wolf without its pack, isolated and doomed from the beginning; a pack would always survive, but a lone wolf? Such a beast would surely perish in the cold, shivering and wishing that it had never been left alone to begin with. Such a beast would never survive.

Sometimes, you wondered if he would return; if he would come back at all, or if the only thing you would ever be given was a fucking letter and his tags. The thought often made your stomach churn, a bitter burn settling in your throat when you cleared your throat.

You knew it could happen, knew it came with the territory of loving someone like him, but you were also aware that his work was secretive, and he could walk through the door at any given second.

You didn't want to be alone anymore, the rare visits from Horangi, König and Sebastian weren't enough; they never stayed for long enough to make a difference, to even put a dent in the abysmal loneliness you were going through.

You had waited for him to come back for months, eagerly waiting by the windowsill whenever you heard a car go past - but it was never him, and it was starting to eat away at your organs. Tearing them apart with jagged teeth that scraped your bones and made sharp pains shoot through you.

Even with the heating on, the bed was always so, so cold and felt far too big for just you; you weren't sure when you had last slept. Without him there, it was impossible; worrying that he wouldn't make it back, needing to be near the phone at all times just in case someone called and told you that, actually, he wouldn't be coming home - that he had been shot, stabbed, caught in an explosion, any manner of things.

You didn't want to feel lonely anymore, that much you were sure of.

It was getting late, nearing three o'clock in the morning, when you heard a car stop outside; you forced yourself to move over to the windowsill from the sofa, holding the blinds open so that you could see through the gaps properly. You watched, hardly a speck of hope left to you, as someone got out of the car; you couldn't see them properly in the dull light, couldn't make out who it was.

Maybe Sebastian. Maybe Soap. Maybe Horangi. Perhaps even Ghost, Gaz, or Alejandro.

You slumped down a little, resting your arm on the windowsill and propping your chin on it, a heavy sigh coming from the back of your throat that turned to a grumble; you watched carefully as the shadow drew closer to the house. If it was any of your friends, or any of Price's men or colleagues, they would have rung the doorbell.

But the shadow didn't.

Instead, the door opened, and a hefty duffel bag was chucked inside, a heavy thud echoing through and bouncing off of the walls as the silence grew thicker; you heard shuffling, something being placed on the coat rack and the squeak of leather against itself, before the shadow finally stepped inside.

"For fuck's sake, they couldn't even drop me off at Tesco," a thick Scouse accent, so familiar and so comforting, cut through everything, "and here I was hoping to get a pack of fags."

You sighed with relief, looking up and daring to smile. "You're home."

Price turned to you, smiling as he nodded. "Yeah, I'm home... you been alright?"

You shrugged, getting up and heading to the kitchen; you flicked the kettle on, turned the speaker on, and finally fully relaxed when you heard 'Poison' by Powerwolf. Price wasn't far behind, shoving the duffel bag aside with his shoe before he caught up to you; he leaned against the counter and lit up a cigarette from your packet.

"I've been... shit," you admitted, shaking your head and busying yourself with getting two mugs down. "You alright?"

Price watched you carefully, knowing what was going on every time he left, he wasn't stupid; maybe he was stupid for supporting Liverpool football team, but he wasn't stupid otherwise. He didn't want to push the subject, though, so he simply took a drag from his cigarette and grumbled quietly under his breath.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Gotta nip up the garage later to get fags, though, fucking Gaz nicked my last one."

"You can have mine," you told him.

"Nah, it's alright," he shook his head, watching the kettle start to stream steam from its spout. "Besides, you're my husband - it should be me buyin' 'em for you."

You wanted to laugh, remembering all the times that he had bought you something and you had gone out and gotten something for him in return; it was more than commonplace. But there was more to it than that, as although you weren't about to admit to it, you were glad to be in his company again; you were glad that you weren't lonely anymore. You never wanted to be without him if you could help it. You wanted to laugh, but you bit it back when the kettle finished boiling, pouring two cups of coffee.

Black, no sugar, always his favourite. Two teaspoons of coffee just so it was that bit stronger. Even when you had your own, you still stole a few swigs from his, and Price never stopped joking that whenever he was at home, he always ended up drinking only half a cup of coffee; you had missed those things most of all.

The stupid jokes. The stealing of food and drinks that you branded as sharing. Cuddling on the sofa and falling asleep together, always woken up for a moment when he started to snore. Despising the way that he would leave his dirty clothes on the floor yet never wanting him to stop. Hating the fact that he always went too far with his teasing and made you cry with laughter until your sides hurt and you were gasping for air. You missed those things above all else, and it was painfully obvious every time he came back.

"I wouldn't worry about it," you hummed as you handed the mug to him, fingers ghosting. "Just remember it's for love."

Price scoffed, unable to stop himself, he put his cigarette out in the ashtray and grabbed your shirt, pulling you close, crushing you against his side as he grinned. "It's for love, is it?"

"Yeah," you smiled at him, nearly grinning. "Always is."

He wanted to roll his eyes, but decided against it as he gently kissed you. "Idiot."

You had to bite back another laugh. "Only a fool could love an idiot."

"Shut your trap," he chuckled. "I missed you, y'know."

You nodded, knowing that he probably went through the same loneliness when he was deployed; an itchy feeling in your throat that maybe he had been feeling exactly the same the entire time. Loneliness that could never be satisfied, a constant ache in the bottom of the stomach.

"I know, I missed you, too."

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ruewrites · 2 months

Text

Blinded by Better Judgement

AO3

Ship: Asmodeus/Solomon

Word Count: 2019

Warnings: Mention of pregnancy scare, implications of sex

A/N: Yes I used to be a big omegaverse girly back in the day. I just never wrote them. But now I have one. So please enjoy it to your heart's content!

Comments are appreciated <3

It was nice to no longer have Asmodeus screaming at him. The past 12 hours had been nothing but panic, anxiety, and absolutely chaos. Asmo had switched from sobbing over what he would tell Lucifer and throwing things at him.

Of course Lucifer would have been furious for a multitude of reasons. He didn't like Solomon, and he certainly wasn't supposed to be allowed near Asmo during his heats. Accidentally getting the baby brother of one of the highest ranking demons in the entire Devildom knocked up when he already hated you wasn't the best road he could walk down.

"How don't you remember if you wore a condom?"

It was a phrase he became intimately familiar with. Yes, it had all been incredibly irresponsible, but when an omega as sweet smelling and as adorable as Asmodeus was giving him bedroom eyes and rubbing against him at every given moment, it wasn't easy to ignore his desires. When an omega as sweet smelling and as adorable as Asmodeus was making out with him, latching onto his neck, and pushing him towards the mattress and whining into his mouth, he didn't stand a chance. He vaguely remembered bits and pieces after being tossed into an untimely rut. Asmodeus had been begging to see him. Sexting wasn't enough. His heat was bad, it hurt, and nothing was working. He needed help. He would simply die if he couldn't have Solomon. In short, he'd been the pinnacle of sexual frustration.

So Solomon relented. He'd met up with Asmodeus and the rest was history. The time between his back hitting the mattress and waking up no longer connected to each other had been a blur. It had all been bliss, until they couldn't find a single trace of protection. They'd laughed it off. Surely they wouldn't have forgotten. Right? And then Asmodeus got anxious. Every store had been sold out of Plan B, and suddenly he thought he saw symptoms. That was how Solomon had been awoken by a very unhappy omega and discretely going out to buy a test. It was embarrassing how much he felt like a teenager. Waiting for the results had been an eternity. Asmo refused to even look at him, snarling whenever Solomon made an attempt to go near him.

Then, the first negative, and the second. A sign of relief washed over both of them and suddenly Asmo once again felt much more cuddly with the alpha who had been at the sharp end of his fury. In the aftermath of the anxiety, they cuddled up in a well put together nest (courtesy Asmodeus) and picked out a light hearted film. But as the hours ticked by, another feeling crept into Solomon's veins.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little.... disappointed," he said.

Asmo barely glanced up, eyes fixed on the movie and nibbling on a cookie, "About the plot?"

"No... about that." Solomon gestured at Asmo with his hand.

Asmo stopped abruptly, "Shut up."

"What?"

"You're not funny."

Solomon raised his hands in defense as Asmo swatted at his chest. The pretty omega was staring pointed and dangerous daggers at him. "I'm not being funny, I'm being serious."

Asmo's expression shifted from annoyed to confused faster than he could count.

"Think about it, your beautiful nests, maybe a couple of little ones scampering about, and you'd have that perfect glow," Solomon whispered, accenting each point with a kiss, "Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

Asmo softened and went back to curling up with Solomon, "I suppose." Disappointment quickly flashed across his face, and then a perfectly manicured finger tip poked his nose. "But if you want that, you've gotta get Big Brother's approval, Mister. Do you know how long he'd lock me away? He already hates that I come home smelling like you."

Solomon laughed and nuzzled his head into Asmo's. "I know Darling, don't worry, I'll get him to like me one way or another."

“Doubt it,” Asmo giggled, “You should hear him complain about your ‘alpha stink’ on our couch. He spends days washing and rescenting everything.”

Ah of course. Lucifer seemed to complain about any alpha that was not one of his brothers or Diavolo who dared step foot near the House of Lamentation. Of course he seemed to harbor a particular disdain for Solomon himself, but that was perhaps slightly understandable.

“And I thought he only complained when I was there.”

“He's contained while you're still there,” Asmo corrected, walking his fingers up Solomon's chest, “He hates that your scent lingers on my skin, tells me how I shouldn't be cozying up to an alpha who hasn't stuck their claim on me.”

Solomon felt himself being pushed back again. Oh his omega was aggressive with what he wanted, and Solomon loved it. As those strong and slender legs straddled his waist, he couldn't help but leaned back, eyelids lowering, one hand on his cheek and the other across his abdomen, and a lazy smile on his face. He adored that Asmo could take charge. Sure he played pretty and submissive for his adoring audience, but Solomon knew the real him. The real Asmodeus left pretty bruises scattered across his body and angry red scratch marks down his back. He opened jars that Solomon struggled with and pulled him into the warmest hugs that had the strength to crack ribs.

“Hmmm, he has a point.”

“He's old fashioned,” Asmo countered.

“In that case I should definitely wear a condom this time.”

“Or you could not.”

All Asmo offered was a shrug at the look Solomon gave him. Asmo had almost killed him seconds ago for a scare, and all the sudden he had a change in rationale. His hand moved to Asmo's thigh in an attempt to ground him, “Asmodeus, are we forgetting that you asked me to get your brother's permission first? I like where my head is. Thank you very much.”

“But he's sooooo old fashioned,” Asmo said, setting his hand on top of Solomon's, “If I have mini yous, he'll have to be okay with you marking me.”

“That logic seems flawed.”

“What's flawed is you not fucking me.”

Solomon laughed and let Asmo lean down to kiss him through the laughter.

“What do you want? Hickeys?” he teased through his lips, “Will that get you going? Get you hard enough to put a little Sol in me?”

Despite himself, Solomon felt arousal stirring. He snorted and leaned into Asmo's lips, “You're not making good choices My Love, I thought for sure you were spent.”

“I was, but you know I can never get enough of you.”

Solomon let his hand slide further up Asmo's hip, a soft hum echoing in his throat as his fingers tapped away. “I think, you have had enough,” without warning, he flipped the both of them over. Asmodeus squealed as his back hit the mattress, eyes widening in shock up at Solomon, “For now that is.”

“That's not fair! Cheater!”

“Maybe so, but I think it would be easier for the both of us, if we waited until after I've gotten Lucifer's approval,” he chuckled, poking his demon's nose, “Wouldn't you agree?”

Asmo whined before pouting up at Solomon, “It's your fault for putting the idea in my head in the first place.”

“And one day, I will very much make this up to you.”

Rolling back over to his side, he made space for Asmo to snuggle up underneath his arm if he chose to do so. Asmodeus did just that. They continued to watch the film in a comfortable silence, picking at their snacks and enjoying the warmth of company.

“Do you think we'd have cute kids?” Asmodeus asked after some time had passed. He didn't even wait for Solomon to respond, “I think we would, I mean they are related to me so how could they not be cute? They'd totally be the cutest in all three of the realms!”

Solomon continued to listen to him ramble on. Talking about everything and nothing, whatever potential future they had together. Perhaps one day they'd be in a similar situation together, starting their own little life. They'd have a little one on the way, Asmo would build beautiful nests and Solomon would do any work around the house as needed. Of course Asmo would grow frustrated with him. His demon liked to be pampered, but Asmo also occasionally liked to do things for himself. They'd have plenty of space for their children to run and play and Solomon would read to them every night. But the absolute best part would be coming home to Asmodeus every day, falling into his loving arms and just being.

He buried his face into Asmo's hair despite his protests and let out a sigh. This would be the life.

“You’re messing up my hair!”

“Hush, I want to remember you like this before my scent no longer lingers on your skin,” he whispered, “By tomorrow it will be but a faint memory of my senses, and I wish to linger in this dream for a bit longer.”

“Fancy words to say Lucifer is going to make me soak and scrub until he’s happy that I don’t smell like you any more. I can only imagine how terrible it will be for my skin,” he tilted his head upward to kiss Solomon’s lips, and Solomon felt himself relax further into his lover’s embrace, “But you’re so cute, it’ll be worth it.”

Asmo’s hand caressed his face, and Solomon couldn’t help but lean into it. He was so warm and soft and comforting. Solomon could feel himself turning to mush. Pulling Asmo closer, he let his fingers dare to slip past the fabric of his shirt and trace the vertebrae on his back. A shudder left Asmo’s lips and then a stifled whine.

He was biting his lip and looking up at Solomon now, his cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink, “Solomon, if you want me to cool down, I can’t say this is the best course of action. You’re teasing me.”

“Perhaps I’ve had a change of heart.”

If he could, he’d keep his scent on Asmodeus forever. He may not be able to do that, however he could make it stronger.

Asmo was on top of him in a heartbeat, nipping and sucking at his neck, adding yet another hickey to his growing collection. The moan that left him was more than audible. Perhaps they shouldn’t have started teasing and toying in Purgatory Hall, but he could apologize later if anyone asked or was disturbed.

“Protection first this time.”

“I’m not in heat anymore, it’s fine.”

“Asmo that’s not-” he didn’t get to finish that thought as Asmo ground down on him. His fingers clawed at Solomon’s shirt and a growl left him.

“Off.”

His omega knew what he wanted, and there was no arguing with Asmo when his mind was made up. For better or worse, he was set in his ways, and god did Solomon love that about him. As his shirt was pulled over his head, Solomon knew he wouldn’t be calling any shots for the time to come, and that was more than okay with him. Only what Asmo allowed was what he’d do. Solomon was nothing if not a man of standards, and he wouldn’t be contemplating death by a top ranking demon if he wasn’t serious about Asmo being with him.

Perhaps he was blinded by his potential future with his pretty demon. There were steps he needed to take before having that happy sunny fantasy in his head.

Perhaps he should want to say no to him a little more.

Perhaps he was being a bit reckless, but it couldn’t be helped.

Asmo inspired bad ideas, and Solomon loved it.

Solomon had a habit of thinking too much, and Asmo’s willingness to just do was exactly what he needed in his life. They were good for each other. Solomon could afford to have a few more bad ideas, and Asmo was showing him how good they could be.

#ruewrites #obey me #solodeus #asmosolo #soloasmo #obey me solomon #obey me asmodeus #a/b/o #omegaverse #omega!asmodeus #alpha!solomon #au!a/b/o #au!omegaverse

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erenaeoth · 5 months

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Hi,I've been thinking about your King/AK fanfictions for a long time,and ever since I first read them I've been wanting to ask you some stuff regarding these characters,but I wasn't sure if that would okay.If it is,I'd love to see your answers to these questions.

*Do you have any headcanons regarding AK I/II and King I/II?

*I absolutely adored the way you encapsulated AK I in your fics,and I was wondering if you'd be willing to speak about your interpretation of AK II? I'd love to see what you think of him,what kind of person you see him as,and maaybe what you think he might look like.

Your description of AK I was so on point,I can't help wondering what you might think AK II would look like too,and just..what you think of him in general.

*Do you have any more ideas regarding AK I and King I's relationship? I barely,if ever,see any content regarding them,and your fanfic about them was really touching (..I might've re-read it a bunch of times and cried a little bit over it.),It has made me want to know more of your interpretations and ideas you might have about them.

*In the chapter GRACE, AK said “I believe we do what we can with the time we have.”,and I wanted to know,were you referring to his heart disease in some way?

I felt like he said that because he himself was doing just that,his days were counted but he was doing what he could with the days he did have left.Never in his history is he shown to..stop? Like,not only is he written as a very adventurous man (travelling around the world,getting in fights with martial art masters just because he can,etc etc) but this trait appeared to show in every part of his life,not just in the form trouble-making/thrill seeking,but also in more serious situations.In T1,while literally spitting out blood and nearly passing out before a match,he kept going and stepped into the ring anyway,Armor King kept going up until his actual death,and appeared to have wanted to use all the time he had left as well as he could.

So,that line you wrote made think about all that and wonder if you intended it to be a subtle hint at his disease/health's state and the way you think he viewed.

*..Why did you give AK an accent? I liked that,but I'm curious lol,do you have any ideas of where he might be from,or is that just a little quirk you decided to give him?

*Your King I/King II fanfic touched me so deeply,and I admit that for a while,I couldn't stop reading it,I just kept coming back to it,honestly,it's become a bit of a comfort fanfic,it's just so sweet.Because of that,I would really like to know if you've got any more ideas regarding King II's childhood?

And that's all I wanted to ask,I hope these questions aren't a bother,I'm a big fan of your Tekken fanfics and reading your works just made me really want to see more of your thoughts on these characters.

Also,you've been a big inspiration for me and I absolutely adore your King/AK works,they are my favorite Tekken fanfictions ever and I hold them dearly,so,thank you for writing them!

Thank you so much for this ask! It's always a pleasure to read when one of my smaller stories has found a home with people who truly love the character. I'll try to answer some of your questions below!

Writing all of the Kings is something I find very peaceful and quite far removed from the hecticness of other Tekken characters. They all have this good solid honesty in them that I love writing.

In terms of headcanons, most my thoughts are more or less within the stories I've written for them. Father Sergio, the name I use for King I outside the ring, is taken from the irl Mexican wrestler and priest that King is based on. I headcanon King I as a Catholic Liberation theologian, and often draw from Gutiérrez, Boff, Romero and others for his ideas. It's something I'm quite familiar with and suits King's lifestyle well. Lots of these aspects of him leak into those around him too, and even though I hc AK1 as not sharing that faith, his faith is in King and the goodness he sees in him is something he wants to emulate. King II was raised in a Catholic orphanage and idolises his mentor, so I have him following this faith too. I headcanon the AK brothers as being Black and from Arizona, since that's where Armor King was trying to break up the fight with Craig Marduk that got him killed. I looked up videos on how people from his background might speak and I think elided some consonants from his speech, though mostly this was to distinguish his speech from King's and show a native familiarity with English. Those are probably my most significant hcs for them.

I think AKII is the hardest of the four of them, and he's got the most reason to be. He doesn't know King I as personally as his brother, and that gentleness that King leant to AK1 did not extend so much to AK2. AK2 made his livelihood in a tag team with an older brother he deeply respected, and rarely if ever do we see sympathy for his loss from other characters. I think he feels like King II's forgiveness of AK1's killer is a betrayal to AK1's legacy, and that Marduk isn't King's to forgive. It's him who lost a brother, a best friend, a business partner, a sparring partner. They were two halves of an act, and this remorseless killer continues to taunt him over this murder, as if this was part of ring drama and not real life. I think AKII is motivated by justice and taking matters into his own hand to look after his own. I don't recall if I have many hcs regarding his appearance. Possibly a short haircut for practicality.

For AK1 and King I's relationship, I think there's a kinship there akin to brotherhood, but also different from the kind of brotherhood the AKs share. King is someone AK1 admires, and he believes that just by being around him, he'll become a better person. For King, AK1 becomes his stability, the one place he doesn't have to be strong, because he's not in a pastoral role for him. To bring a fight to life, there is spectacle, trust, and art, which King and AK create together for others, but behind the scenes, there is grief, poverty, illness, frustration, despair, depression, loneliness, and I think the two of them find solace in one another and are pillars for when the other wavers.

Yes, the line in Grace, among other things is about AK's illness. His illness bookends that story, and he sets it aside to aid his friend. He too is facing mortality. The line is inspired by Gandalf's line to Frodo: "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” Yes, it is about AK who never stops, who always persists through the odds, but it's also a reflection of the wisdom he's gained from being around King, who rarely despairs despite the grimness of his situation. King is someone who strives to do good against insurmountable odds, so these words were to remind him also of his own strength.

At the moment I don't have many more ideas about King II's childhood, other than that I think he stepped up into a caring role for the other orphans because he idolised his teacher, and that this continued on after King's death. King II saw it as his duty to continue on that legacy at all costs, even if he might have preferred to go some other route in life himself. If I have any more thoughts though, you'll see them in another King or AK fic!

Thanks so much for these questions, I'm very happy to answer them and I know its quite a small fanbase for thinking about the lore and characters behind these guys. I definitely encourage you to write about them yourself - I think lots of your ideas and read of the characters sound great, and that you'd write some amazing stories about them!

#asks #tekken thoughts #tekken #king #king II #armor king #armor king II #iron fist and iron will

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