and the other one has a little tear at the sleeve

“make the princess speak and you will have the crown of kings.”

my knees hurt, as usual, from scrubbing. technically i’m too high of Maid Station to help out with these things, but i like seeing what happens when you clean. the development of things. how a lot of effort can make something. i like learning and trying and working hard to get towards something.

and i’ve seen them, from the back of pillars, from behind cracked doors, from beside her (on the best days) the way they talk to her. oh beautiful won’t you just look at me. oh darling. if you speak i’ll be your prince. if you speak i’ll be your king. 

the princess, i know, finds the lines of suitors boring. it’s in the way her hands are always moving. she hides yawns, leaves early, we make her apologies. once, a man comes and tries to startle her into screaming. she rolls her eyes and looks directly at me. i have to hide my smile behind my sleeve. he is taken away while still screaming.

by accident, i find her once, crying. when we imagine princesses, they always cry daintily. hers is hoarse, angry, and something in it breaks me. in my station i should apologize and bow and leave. instead i am frozen, watching her shoulders heaving.

she looks up and spots me, her cheeks ruddy. i know i should go but instead i make a big show. i act as one of her princes. i make grand gestures and speak in deep voices. i frantically offer her handkerchiefs and trip over my own two feet. a smile crawls up over her, slowly. i dab my sweat away and offer her the used rag. i feign a fluster, turn a terrible cartwheel, make shadow puppets. the sound of her laugh, raw and rusty, sends shivers through me.

for a while, i do not see her after this. but then i am called to her chambers. she is crying again. i offer silly gifts, pebbles and dusting rags and a candlestick from her own kitchen, pretend to steal it, use it as a hat, rock it as a babe. she laughs more easily this time, gladly, and when she laughs i am taken by more important maids, thereby officially Excused.

it goes like this for months. the winter comes. i rarely see her. i spend my week thinking about ways to please her. i knick interesting cookies, show her shiny buttons, learn to cartwheel in a full skirt, and then promptly how to make it look foolish again. i learn how to juggle hot bread and dance as a man would, i learn how to balance on a ball and how to fall down without hurting myself, how to fake a fight with my own body, which colors she likes and which don’t please her.

i show up on a cold eve with a knotted line of scarves hidden down my sleeve, worried and breathless, wondering why she’s been crying. the door opens and she is sitting there, happy. at first i’m confused, but she waves me in. next to her is her small dessert, in two containers. i’m not sure how to respond, so i fake a fall to hear her laugh, and then sit at her feet. she gives me ice cream - so rare a treat. i know what went into making it - the hours of shaking. it’s smooth and tasty. i don’t feign my reaction, but she laughs anyway, kindly. 

it goes like this. i see her more frequently. she likes giving me new things, watching me discover i hate kiwi and love oranges and would die if it made her laugh breathlessly. i’ve made her keel over with cackling and she’s put a fire in me. sometimes we just sit there, quietly, enjoying each other’s company. 

it’s in her hands, always moving. little things i thought were just her, fidgeting. here’s how she says she’s thirsty, this is what her hands do when she needs a second to think, here’s how she shows she’s happy. this is how i learn to speak back to her. around her i spend much of my time smiling. i feel every visit is a gift. a new part to unravel. i find out she doesn’t respond to spoken things, that she needs to be looking in order to know you were speaking. sometimes she has me talk and she holds her hands to the base of my throat, her eyes wide and wondering. sometimes she just looks at me and i forget that i’m her jester in chief. i get caught up in her eyes, in how expressive they are when she’s happy, in how when she’s sad i feel like i’m drowning.

i never see the king or queen, but i know when she’s had a visit with them, because she never comes back happy. two winters i have known her, two winters and now we dine frequently. i am often called to stand beside her, to whisper translations of her desires into the ears of someone more important than i, someone who gets to be the voice of royalty. i can’t decide if i’m her friend or her plaything, but i don’t know i care much of the distinction. every moment i’m near her is a moment free of friction. i take stock of suitors and curtsy to them in daylight only to mock them in the candle’s eye later.

she asks me one night to stay. it has been a bad day. it’s completely not okay. i cannot say no but i cannot, by my station, stay. but she begs with her eyes and her hands and i know i’ll take the punishment. 

we lie beside each other. i make sure to turn to her when i speak. in the dark she can’t see me, so i move my hands in the way i’m learning. she asks if i am ever lonely. i cannot tell her that i am always lonely without her beside me, so instead i say i think all people are very lonely and just are pretending. she laughs a little at that and says she thinks her parents are the two most lonely people that ever met. her mother was like her; broke a fairy curse and talked, just once, although nobody knows what she said. well, excepting her father, who was the only one around, and who won her hand in marriage.

from her mother she learned the art of hands, of speaking without words - from her father she learned that who she was included a curse. that she just wanted someone who would make her open like a rose - someone who could fix her. how she stared out into the royal garden and wished on flowers to be what her kingdom needs.

she fell asleep pressed against me. i couldn’t breathe. i was still awake in the morning. 

the punishment never came. we spent nights like this. the handmaidens had grown to know me. whenever their princess was stubborn, i worked magic and made her lovely.

it was a terrible thing. i did too good a job, i think. the princess glowed too much or shone too brightly - or at least, i saw it that way, so who knows what the truth is. every day it felt like we were being rushed with princes. 

her father’s temper at hosting failed. it was the day before her twenty-first birthday and first time i’d ever seen him. he stormed in at the end of the session. “just speak!” he said, “it’s not that hard! do for others what your mother did!” 

“tomorrow is your last day of this,” he warned her, “either you pick a prince or i pick for you. i’m done with it.”

he stormed off. she was left shellshocked and trembling. that night she didn’t ask me to come, but i waited outside, just in case she changed her mind. i understood why she needed space. either she’d speak and be married tomorrow or she’d be married shortly. i heard her crying and it took everything in my power not to rush in and hold her, cradle her gently. but i cannot come into a room of a royal person without being invited. i stayed there, tears in my own eyes, thinking of treason.

the next day was a huge festival. what had been a birthday celebration was turned into a day about princes. i watched her shake her head. i tried to cheer her up. i tried everything. i frequently came inches from causing public humiliation, toed the line of mocking and failing to acknowledge my station. she wouldn’t smile. not once. not even for anything.

the day was long. the bonfire wore down. i watched her crumple into herself. i was out of ideas. i knelt at her feet. her eyes barely looked at me. just wait, i said to her with my hands, i’ll be right back. i took off running.

the price of stealing is losing my hands. these things that i spoke to her with. these things that mattered so much to me, that helped with my comedy and cleaning. 

i didn’t think of them. i bloodied my fingers when i ripped the royal roses from their stems. and then i ran, as fast as i could, back to her feet. i picked them to show you, i said, as she gasped, looking at my treason, they’re beautiful and nobody told them to open to reveal their secrets to the bees. they are unbroken. as you are. as you always will be. 

she fell off her throne and for a second i was beyond speaking, worried something had happened, or she’d fainted, or i’d said the wrong thing. but then she was on her knees, her arms around me, and i heard it. i heard the soft croak of her speaking. just one word, and it sent shivers down me. my name, in her voice, awkward and unwieldy, but full of love and passion, burning fire through me.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i was pulled away from her. they already had me in handcuffs while i struggled to get back to her, to tell her i loved her, to beg her to run off with me or maybe just hold me around her, maybe just have her for a moment, because i couldn’t live without her for a moment longer.

they put me in the cells. i rotted in there, for a while or for no time at all, i’m not sure. the thorns scarred my palms. i watched the scabs build up and flake off. every time someone came down, i flinched, wondering if i would be the next to be taken and chopped into bits.

but one day the light was different. not the smoky torch of the jailer, instead a bright light in a lantern. at first when i saw her, my breath caught in my throat, mistaking her for my princess.

but she was my queen. at first we stood in silence. and slowly, i moved my hands to speak. is she married? is what came out, even though i should be more worried about me myself and me.

she is not. she bit her father on the arm when he tried to make her. then she fought him. and then ran away. it took us a bit to find her, i’m afraid. she threatened her own life and the life of everyone in this place. the queen was smiling. i was told there was a young woman who could make the princess speak, whom she would die to save, who brought roses to her feet. someone in a cell, rotting. are you her?

the memory of her voice rang through me. i’m she.

yes, her hands said, for even now, aren’t you speaking to the silent Queen?

she opened the door. come, she said, let’s get you cleaned up for the ceremony.

the crown of kings. when she wraps her arms around my neck and laughs next to me, i am royalty. when she smiles or makes a joke or asks to see my cartwheel again, i’m lost in her. i kiss her whenever i can, which is often. we have roses in a vase at the base of our bed, and for all of the kingdom, i’d give my hands if it would keep her laughing.

the next time she spoke was just once, at our wedding, where she said the two words i do to bind us for eternity. she had learned from me, from holding her hands over my voicebox, the way i learned from her how to use hands to speak. sometimes at night she says my name, just because she likes what it does to me.

i’m more blessed than a king. every day i spend with her is a day i spend happily. 

Is Nalu canon?

As crunchyroll finally released the last chapter I decided writing my opinion on it. I will make side comments but the main subject will be Nalu since many of you asked me if I think it is canon or not.


First of all we will be starting with the cover page, in which Mashima left some hidden clues.

where have we seen this before? That`s right. 

Natsu`s shirt, which is more manly is more in his style with one long sleeve and a shor one is matching to Lucy`s old outfit from x792. Mashima always made them matchy clothes, didnt matter it was a bracelet, the colors, or a whole outfit.

Moving on… we didn`t have much interaction between NaLu at Lucy`s party

Even so, Mashima brought us a little nostalgia on the good times when Lucy was always screaming at Natsu and he wasn’t bothered by it, morover acting like a child. They are supposed to be 28-29 here right? (excepting the time skip) They remained the same kids they were once.


I have to say that i am really proud of Lucy. She`s such a kind girl, she didn’t care if her novel made her rich or not, but she fullfilled one of her dreams. Isn’t that amazing? I am really proud of my baby ♥

Also I have to say I am happy Anna remained in her timeline. She already lost her parents and she finally has a relative.



There we have a little teasing from Gajeel and also from Mashima himself. 

Anna was the one who sent Natsu n this timeline, Anna made his scarf. He knew her since he was a little boy, he gave him the chill and he is admitting THIS is why he is always so relaxed being around Lucy. She has always been there for him, taking care of him and covering things for him. She was a good friend to him, his best friend and she grew in more.

Gajeel is teasing Natsu in here saying “ you liked her”

What could have Natsu say? “No? I disliked her?” No. Also Gajeel is shocked about his answer. He answered so relaxed and can you see that blushing Lucy? That`s right, she is blushing because Natsu somehow said he likes her. If he likes Anna, Lucy is alike to Anna, he likes Lucy too. so regarding the fact both Lucy and Anna have a similar smell, he is always so relaxed around Lucy, isn’t it the fact that your home has a certain smell, gives you a certain comfort? This is what Lucy is for him. His home. 

In this panel, Lucy is admitting herself she is jealous over Gajevy. Why is she jealous? Because Gajevy managed growing into a mature relationship, Gajeel became a man, while Natsu is still an immature little brat, but he is her brat. We will never see Natsu saying things like Gajeel “ The woman i fell for” “ I wished walking side by side with you” or something like this. No, Natsu has his own way to express his feelings. Let`s remember some of his lines “ I am going to save Lucy” “ Lay one finger on Lucy and I turn you to ashes”  “ Even if it’s just her head, Lucy is still Lucy “ “ From today on, you are mine” “Long time no see, Lucy” and so many others. There are different ways of saying “I love you” Its in your gestures and let’s remember how Natsu was affected by Future Lucy’s death and when they fought with August how he climbed over her to protect her. He is never going to let her die again.

Also Lucy is blushing so hard and is emarassed by the things Gajeel and Levy had done. She is not mature herself to do things a couple should be doing. She is still embarassed about this even if she is 19(or 28)


See? She had the same reaction as Wendy. A reaction a child would have when hearing things.


This doesnt have any link to Nalu but im posting it for gruvians and my gruvia heart


Finally you`ve got a hang of it Gray-sama. @giushia

Going back.

Mashima is giving a tease again. “ the pair im most” the pair. So there are pairings.


Even if they fought Zeref and he put them trough hell, look at her face. She knows that Zeref and Mavis had found their peace they are back being someone else. Her look is saying “ sadness but still happiness” Could this be the love she`s also dreaming of? Even if they had a tragic destiny, they found their way back to each other. 


she, herself is happy for everyone. Every single mage is happy including herself.

Now, let`s start with the Nalu Pages 

there you go, Mashima putting another old scene. “ This is my room” But remember the first time Natsu was in her room? She kicked him out. 


While now she made this cute face, she didnt kick them out and isn’t bothered by it anymore. Yet she still has to say something about it. A girl has to keep her dignity.

The love is in the gestures you do. How I said up. Natsu carried her home, took care of her. Its a little gesture, but what could had happen if he wasn’t there to carry her home while she passed out?

He took her home, he took care of her. He watched over her.


Now, that`s Lucy` way of complaining she will never walk down the aisle, she will never be a bride.

Yet, Natsu finds a way, an open door


“ You can walk out” You can walk out with HIM and join him in his job, like she has always done. Look at her face.He just gave her hope. 

THIS IS NATSU`S WAY OF SAYING “ I wanted to  walk side by side with you”. “ You can walk and take a job with us

Furthermore, she is remembering all the memories the two of them had together. She bursts in tears. 

And hugs him

She hugs him. He is the person who gave her everything. Without Natsu, Lucy would have still been the Heartfilia Princess. she should have married someone she didnt like, she wouldnt have achieved one of her dreams and she wouldnt have been in Fairy Tail. 

She is greatful for having him, for giving her everything she wished for and even if she was rich, he gave her what her parents and their money couldnt afford. Friends and family. Fairy Tail was her family, they had always protected her, they had always been there for her.


Yet, Natsu doesn’t know what to do. He doesnt  want to see her crying even if they are tears of joy. He just want to see her happy.


In these panels, I dont know if i can agree with the others or not, that a panel is missing. Seems it is missing something but at the same time not. Did he kiss her? Why is she so shocked? Or..he didnt kiss her, yet she said “ wait” if hereally didnt kiss her, then her “wait” was “ wait, I am not ready”.


But what are the things you did, Natsu? I dont think in this panel, Lucy is talking about her memories, but something he did.now.  He answers “ what does it matter?” I saw lots of movies and series where the boy, after he kissed the girl and she said something similar to what Lucy said he answered “ why does it matter”. So he really might have kissed her and let`s remember Mashima doesnt know how to draw proper kisses. So a panel could be missing up there because Mashima didnt want to ruin that haha 


They will always be togehter. They are going to a 100 years quest which is a lifetime. Natsu and Lucy will be together forever. Always and forever


My conclusion is that, in a subtle way than Gajevy`s or Gruvia, Nalu is canon and we can finally celebrate.

darling, I know you’ve been feeling down lately, so I wrote this really quick for you. I’m not sure what you had in mind, but I went to a 100 % unicorns place, so I hope this makes you smile a little.


A shadow falls across Stiles’ worksheet and he looks up to see Lydia, mouth pursed, staring down at him. She says, “What do you know about unicorns?”

“About as much as the average eleven year old boy,” he says, which is: not much. Horse-like, pointy horn, something to do with virgins.

Of course, he goes home and finds out everything he can about them immediately. Both because Lydia asked, and because now he can’t stop thinking about it.

Lydia has forgotten all about their conversation by the time he’s ready to dazzle her with his knowledge, so alas, his mad unicorn skillz lie dormant for years, until all the shit with the werewolves.

*

Stiles is cat-napping in a spill of sun when all his warmth is blocked—he makes an irritated sound and opens his eyes to find Derek looming over him, frowning.  Stiles kicks out a foot and rolls over onto his side in the grass.

Derek says, “What do you know about unicorns?”

Stiles yawns and says, “A surprising amount for a teenage boy.”

Keep reading

Collision Course; Voltron Legendary Defender AU: Dads of Marmora; gen; 5,300+ words; PG-13; mentions of violence, tiny hints of Ulaz/Thace, but so little you have to squint with a telescope or something

Credit for this AU goes to @drisrt and this amazing picture that inspired this story. Also some lines of the dialogue are taken from the Blades of Marmora episode of Voltron.

Posted on AO3, too.

Summary:

Keith gets adopted by the Galra empire rebellion, basically.

Keith has barely three years of life on his cells, has barely grown up to his Father’s knees and into his Mother’s laugh when he’s thrown into the first sense of flying, of fleeing, of his Father solemnly reading through the coordinates Keith doesn’t understand, that Keith thinks are just a pretty game of lights, lights that remind him of his Mom’s knife.

He’s holding it, holding onto it, tries to find the connection between the numbers and the faintest of glows, illuminating the insides of his fingers, misses how his Dad flinches when he asks: “When will Mom catch up to us?” already sleepy, already curling up beneath the safety straps of his seat.

Gently, his Father’s jacket is tucked around him and the scent is the lullaby that sings him into dazed, motionless dreams, the remnants of home, the flickers of the unknown.

(He sleeps through the harsh descent, the crib of his Father’s arms, the hushed ambush, the quietest of heists.)

He sleeps through it all.

Keep reading

hannahtheladybug  asked:

Hi! I love your blog soooooooo much! I was wondering if you know any good fluffy slow burns? Thanks!

WOW! Thanks for all these requests! I looove slow burn fics, they give me life! Let me know if you think I missed some!

Originally posted by shiruba-tsuki


Slow Burn


Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches by Reiya, Explicit, 197k
A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries. Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be. Oh, man, do these boys not communicate their feelings! Seriously one of the best fics I have ever read in ANY fandom. Love this fic so much.

starstruck by shizuoh, Teen, 58k
(in which yuuri is a simple barista, viktor is a famous movie star, and yuri is an 8 year old kid stuck in the middle of it.) SO good!

What Fades On The Ice by KasumiChou, Gen, 54k
Yuuri Katsuki was a living legend in the skating world. A living legend that depended on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety tablets to survive. Viktor Nikiforov was a young ‘up-and-coming’ skater who was determined to convince his idol to coach him after an extremely bad result at his last competition.How will Yuuri survive the hurricane that is Viktor Nikiforov? Very angsty!

Bear Your Soul on the Ice by SassySalchow (diedraechin), Mature, 118k (WIP)
At age fourteen, Katsuki Yuuri had been determined to be Japan’s next great figure skating hope, but with no coach that would never happen, so his ballet instructor packs him up off to Russia to train with Yakov Feltsman. The Yakov Feltsman, otherwise known as the coach to rising figure skating star – and Yuuri’s idol – Viktor Nikiforov. AMAZING!

You Can’t Plan for Everything by RivDeV, Explicit, 138k (WIP)
Yuuri forgets that he has a scheduled heat coming up until it’s just a couple weeks away. He scrambles to get everything ready in time, including deciding whether he’ll spend it alone or with someone. Victor only wants to help. A/B/O rec’d to me by my followers!

Tantalus, Reaching by chellethewriter, Teen, 
A retelling of the series that chronicles how a five-time Grand Prix champion might attempt to woo a somewhat oblivious Japanese figure skater.

Nerve Endings by Phyona, Explicit, 51k (WIP)
When Yuuri moves in with Victor in St. Petersburg, they have to work through Yuuri’s anxiety and Victor’s secrets to find their balance. LOVE!

rekindling by fan_nerd, Mature, 9.1k
Victor stands on Yuuri’s doorstep in the pouring rain with a bouquet of flowers. It’s the middle of the night. The tall man is out of breath, soaking wet, and his eyes are red. Yuuri sighs, letting his ex-boyfriend in like the sympathetic fool that Victor knows he is. “What are you doing here?” He hurries to catch his breath and reply, but his mouth is dry. Victor doesn’t exactly have an answer to that question. I love this so much??? Amazing fic!

not gold like in your dreams by ebenroot, Teen, 49k (WIP)
In which Victor and Yuuri are roommates and Yuuri has a secret. WOW!

matched by bigspoonnoya, Explicit, 52k
Viktor Nikiforov considers himself an excellent matchmaker, but there’s one love life he can’t seem to get right: his own. AMAZIN

and I feel life (for the very first time) by smudgesofink, Teen, 10k
In which Victor helps Yuuri with his skating, but Yuuri helps Victor find himself again.

cover story by fan_nerd, Explicit, 8.2k
Yuuri stares down at the person standing in the doorway. The stranger hisses, “Who do you think you are, anyways?” Quickly, before he can really think about it, Yuuri responds, “I’m Victor’s boyfriend.” It’s a lie, but the words feel good in his mouth, and for some reason, he doesn’t want to take them back. Such a good one shot!

Dancing Daffodils by grayclouds, Mature, 51k (WIP)
“As Love gently wipes away the tears that trail down his cheeks something within Victor quakes, its tremors resonating throughout his entire being like a deafening echo. He is in the arms of a god.” BIG THUMBS UP!

offer me) that Deathless Death by melonbug, Teen, 19k (WIP) **Major character death
It was the curse he and his family were fated to: Death would come for him the moment he turned eighteen, and he could only hope the flimsy wards passed down through the generations would protect him. But Death always won eventually, Death would snatch him up as he had all of his ancestors.But somehow he wasn’t what Yuuri had expected. He was a constant presence in his life, barely there. A vigilant spectator to his burgeoning skating career, a gray haired man with a soft expression who found him again and again, waiting for him to let his guard down, but becoming something more, over time.

Beside the Dancing Sea by lily_winterwood, MapleTreeway Explicit, 186k
New York Times-bestselling author Viktor Nikiforov arrives in the sleepy seaside town of Torvill Cove to cure his writer’s block. After encountering local wallflower Yuuri Katsuki at a party, he discovers that this mysterious dark-haired man has a couple secrets up his sleeve. And Viktor will be damned if he doesn’t find out just what those secrets are. LOVE this fic!

Until You Return to Me by BatMads, Teen, 113k
Yuuri and Victor are in St. Petersburg together at last, but when Yuuri has difficulty adjusting to the transition and tragedy strikes, it seems as though they may be separated forever. Now they struggle to find their way back to each other when the universe seems to conspire against a happy ending. So angsty omgomg

Everything on Fire by SakanatoAi, Teen, 28k (WIP)
In an alternate universe where the physical closeness between two soulmates is measured by body temperature, Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov have spent their entire lives chasing after fleeting moments of warmth. As they grow older, their actions begin to draw them towards each other in a blind search for their anonymous soulmate, and the eventual release from the relentless cold which will be granted by their union.

The Boyfriend Experience by cryingoverspilledvodka, Explicit, 119k (WIP)
Katsuki Yuuri is an accomplished escort at 23, operating under the pseudonym Eros, in Detroit. When one of his favourite clients sets him up with none other than world-renowned figure skater Victor Nikiforov, the delicate balance between Yuuri’s personal and professional life teeters ever closer towards ruin. Such a great fic!

Like a Fairytale by lucycamui, Teen, 63k (WIP)
In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his ‘Cinderella’ Yuuri. VERY cute!

November’s Secret by LanaBerry, Mature, 23k (WIP)
Overwhelmed with anxiety and his fear of failing, Yuuri faces the issue of if he should continue skating. His best friend, Yuko, proposes a solution - if no one knows it’s you, then it’s less embarrassing, right? Yuuri begins to create a completely new disguise and persona.But it works a little too well.Before he knows it, Yuuri has become the biggest mystery of the skating world and everyone wants to know who he is. Especially Viktor Nikiforov, the idol he’s been loosely basing his new persona on for years. Ahh I love this!

how the mighty fall (in love) by braveten, Teen, 28k
Every Victor Nikiforov fan has three things in common.
1. They have unrealistic expectations for romance.
2. They mark their calendars with the dates of his newest book releases and the premieres of his latest movie adaptations.
3. They either passionately hate or love his greatest rival, a mysterious author whose pseudonym is only two letters: “KY.” Lots of mutual pining!

Aria: Stammi Vicino, Non Te Ne Andare by exile_wrath, Teen, 34k (WIP)
The tale of Yuuri Katsuki, who never ages and never dies and has lived frozen in time for centuries, and his attempts to keep his adopted son from killing the new guest. Such an amazing immortal AU!

pas de deux by intertwingular, Gen, 24k (WIP)
in which yuuri, premier dansuer and four time usa international ballet competition gold medalist, ends up teaching yurio ballet, and viktor is just the slightest bit smitten. Very sweet!

fire on ice by indianchai, Teen, 15k (WIP)
Everyone in the world had some sort of affinity with one of the four elements; the proper term was elemental affinity– whether they were best suited with fire, water, earth, or air.All figure skaters were water users. Never in the history of the sport was there professional ice skater that didn’t have water as their elemental affinity. Katsuki Yuri had a well-guarded secret that he can’t have anyone find out about.

DeanCas Coda to 13x04: The Big Empty

Unsurprisingly, the thrill of being on Earth fades after two days of relentless walking, bumming rides, and begging for bus money. Not that Castiel can’t appreciate the sunshine and flowers and corporeality of it all… but about one minute after standing up and taking in the warmth and smells and feel of the world around him, his thoughts immediately turned to the Winchesters. To Jack.

To Dean.

It’s Dean specifically whose name runs on a loop in his mind; whose memories have Castiel’s heart stuttering and blood racing in his veins. By the time he’s walking up to the Bunker door, Cas’s palms are slick with sweat and he’s exhausted despite his Grace, anxiety clawing under his skin. He re-adjusts his new coat and tie about fifteen times, and attempts to flatten his hair into some kind of order. He stares at the door for a good five minutes before gathering enough courage to knock.

It’s Dean who answers.

He’s thinner than the last time Castiel saw him, with dark bruises under his eyes and a paleness lurking beneath his skin that is frightening. He looks haggard, and defeated, and despite all of that Cas is still made breathless. Because he is standing in the doorway whole. Because they are both whole, and living. 

“Give it a rest, Mia. I ain’t buyin’ what you’re selling.”

The door is closed in his face.

It’s amazing, how one sentence can break a person. But no matter. Castiel  knows, logically, that Dean think’s he’s dead. Four days ago, he wouldn’t have been wrong. So, pushing those pesky, unrealistic fantasies of a romantic reunion aside, he swallows thickly, and knocks again. 

Dean answers with a glare this time. “Look, I get that we helped you, but following us all the way out here is just friggin’ creepy, okay?! And invasive! So leave us the hell alone before I decide to do something I regret.” Scoffing, he gives Castiel a cursory look up and down before shaking his head. “Some shifter you are,” he mutters. “You even got his clothes wrong.”

“Dean, wait.”

“I’m really not in the mood right now, okay? So just—”

“Dean, it’s me.”

Dean pauses. Shakes his head. Pauses again.

“You can test me,” Castiel says. “In fact, I insist. But don’t—don’t close the door again. Please, I just—it’s me. I swear it’s me.”

Green eyes play across his face, but if he’s searching for duplicity, he’ll find none. Staring back, Cas waits for Dean to come to a decision, finally muttering a “wait here”, before closing the door for a second time. Left alone, Cas feels his shoulders slump in relief. Dean will test him, and then he’ll know. He’ll know and Castiel will finally go home.

They do holy water first and iron first, saving silver for last. Even when both other tests have been completed, Dean hesitates at the third, looking at Cas’s big blue eyes and biting his lip. Castiel rolls up his sleeve and holds out his arm. “Please,” he murmurs. 

Dean quickly slices the silver blade in a shallow cut on Cas’s forearm, watching with wide eyes when the skin easily knits back together. 

The knife drops to the ground with an almighty clang. 

Dean’s hand comes up to shakily cover his mouth as his eyes, red-rimmed and shining, remain trained on Castiel’s. “No,” he murmurs. “Uh uh, I’m dreaming. I’m—I burned you. I’ve finally cracked, I—”

“No,” Castiel urges. “It’s me. It’s Cas.”

“I know who you are, dumbass.” Tears spill onto freckled cheeks as a huffed laugh is startled out of Dean’s chest. His hands twitch at his sides. “It’s really you.”

“Yes.”

They’re hugging. Dean has launched himself at Castiel’s person, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and cradling the back of his head. His shoulders shake as he buries his face in Cas’s neck, and of his part, Castiel holds on as tightly as he can without causing harm. He blinks rapidly in an effort to dispel his own tears and leans heavily into the warmth that now surrounds him from what feels like all sides. 

“Cas,” Dean mumbles, his voice thin and watery. “Cas. Castiel. Cas.

“Dean.” Castiel doesn’t mean to turn his head, just as he doesn’t mean to lean in when Dean pulls back to see what’s happening. He does, however, mean to kiss Dean Winchester within an inch of his life when it becomes clear that this is a thing he’s permitted to do.

So he does it.

Castiel kisses Dean thoroughly. Methodically. Pressing little demonstrations of love to his mouth before deepening it to something wanton and wet. Cas’s heart tumbles against his ribcage, and his cheeks heat, and Dean runs a hand through his hair in a way that is so different from that creature in the empty that Castiel almost sobs anew. He kisses Dean with everything he is, and Dean whimpers. Freckled hands cup Cas’s cheeks.

From the war room, Sam holds Jack’s shoulder, keeping him in place. “Just… wait a sec, okay?“ he says, staring up at the pair pressed together on the threshold. “They need this.”

“They love each other,” Jack observes.

"Yeah,” Sam nods. Blinking rapidly, he looks at the child beside him and smiles. “They do.”

TAGS: @musingsdeme @jdragon122 @zolaliz @patrcolvs @natmoose @casolantern @high-on-netflix @dramaqueenrolf @lanaserra (If you want to be tagged in my codas, please let me know!)

remember everyone’s favourite headcanon about neil coming back to life once upon a time and telling his unsuspecting friends about it on movie night?? I wrote that bitch!!!


The light from the TV seizes every time a scene leaps off a building or the action crashes into the protagonist. It’s exhausting to be in the same room as the flicker of it; the pulsing gunfire and longwinded monologues intercut with showy violence that’s all soft in the middle.

The combat is slow — it’s obvious the director wants you to follow the stunt double’s prowess with your eyes, to take the moment that someone goes sprawling and package it, understand it, delight in your own understanding. The urgency of the fight whimpers and dies. It’s a half-time waltz set to galloping music, stilted dialogue fed into it all like splinters.

It’s almost a comedy, this palatable brutality playing out in a room full of fighters.

A woman hooks her leg in the window of a moving car and slides inside, and Neil makes a tsk-ing noise. She grapples with a driver and wins impossibly. The scene shifts and becomes a greyscale basement; the villain orders his cronies about in German that can’t figure itself out. Neil nudges Andrew’s foot with his and Andrew nods without looking.

The screen hiccups, abruptly paused. “What is it Lassie?” Matt jokes, mouth twitching. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Neil says, sour. “Just wondering if his German coach spoke any German.”

“I thought it was cute,” Nicky says.

“You think he’s cute,” Allison corrects, reaching over Renee to steal a twizzler from the knot of opened snacks on the coffee table. She bites into it viciously when she says, “you’re into boys who can’t speak the same language as you. They’re easier to trick.”

“Wow,” Nicky says, bewildered. “The bitch is out today.”

Allison swipes primly at her lipstick. “Always is.”

“You got another horrifying factoid to share with the class, Josten?” Dan asks. “Something about the proper technique for jumping between cars maybe?”

“Yeah. Don’t lead with your legs. That’s a good way to get yourself ripped in half.”

“Un-pause,” Renee prods, and Matt laughs when he hits play. The movie skids around and tries to find its own plot again. Light flickers over Neil’s frown.

The protagonist shoots at a tank until it blows up, and Neil snorts, jostling Andrew’s side when he stands up. He watches Matt and Neil have a conversation in gestures, and Matt relents after a moment, letting Neil slip away without pausing anything.

He’s gone for a while. Doubtless somewhere in their bedroom or breathing secondhand smoke from his own hand or killing time cross-legged in the brightness of the kitchen.

It’s less bearable, trying to swallow the movie without Neil shaking with laughter against him every time someone lies or shoots the wrong way. Andrew feels uncomfortably like the only other person in his lifeboat had just been rescued without him.

Another explosion rocks their sound system, and Andrew flicks bored eyes back to the villain circling the lead in a helicopter. He’s still waiting for the plot twist to get over itself and make an appearance, or for Neil to do the same. It’s starting to chafe, being in the dark with the whole team, shifting and breathing and rustling plastic packages around him.

The protagonist gets suddenly skewered by the debris from the helicopter he just shot down, and the heroine tumbles down over the rubble, scrambling to hold his face in both hands. Dialogue devolves into blood-bubbling I love you’s and come back’s from there, and Andrew concentrates on zoning out.

“He’s not actually dead,” Nicky says incredulously, mouth full of popcorn. Dan shushes him. “He’s too pretty to be impaled to death.”

“I bet you want him to impale you to death,” Matt says slyly, pleased with himself, and Renee frowns at him.

“Ay, he’s back!” Nicky says, popping another handful as the protagonist gasps back to life, face wet with tears or sweat or rain. “What’d I tell you?”

“You’re ruining this movie,” Aaron says flatly.

“Do you think he went to heaven for those five minutes?” Nicky continues, ignoring his cousin. “Like I get that he’s a mass murderer, but it was all ‘greater good’ stuff. Like charity work.”

“I don’t think God had time to decide,” Renee says softly.

“Like he was hanging out in limbo?” Dan asks, playing along. Renee shrugs generously.

“I’d love to die for like ten minutes, make a scene, have Erik weep over my broken body. Then high five God on my way back to life.”

“Nothing happens when you die, Nicky,” Neil says matter-of-factly from the doorway. He smells like Andrew’s cigarettes when he climbs back onto the couch, legs tucked underneath him. He reaches for a handful of popcorn.

“You can’t know that for sure,” Renee says, frowning a little. Her beliefs never show on her face so much as when she’s trying to fight back without fighting.

Andrew can feel his heart wind up and get ready to throw something, though he’s not completely sure why until Neil says, “I died once.” He shrugs. “God looked a whole lot like an endless abyss.”

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Liability (Part 1)

A/N: FINALLY posting something. This is based off a recent even that happened in my life and I kinda needed to write it all down…let me know what you think! Especially since I haven’t written in forever! 

Dean x Reader, Sam, Jody, Claire

Word Count: 1000+

Warnings: Angst, Swearing

The two of you had avoided each other for weeks.

What went from hurtful words spewed at you in the heat of the moment, to you needing time, which then eventually led to the art of stonewalling that the two of you perfected in. And now here you were with this awful knot in your throat, your mind curled in on itself, two hands firmly holding the steering wheel, driving in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. You couldn’t even remember what the two of you had been arguing about in the first place, but the overwhelming sense of not being of any use to him, of being an inconvenience, a liability, was enough to have you putting as much distance as you possibly could from Lebanon, Kansas.

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Soulmates (AU) Part 2

Pairing: Harry and Y/N

Word Count: 2677

Prompt (AU) : Harry took his anger out in sex-and you weren’t supposed to do that. He would go to the bar and find others just as terrible and lonely as him, drink, and then sink his sorrows into anything with breast and a hole were to put it. Niall always rolled his eyes the next morning and say to Harry “you’re a proper dick, yeh know that right?”, to which Harry would lift his middle finger up and respond with, “if soulmates are real she would love me anyhow.”

“Harry when you meet her your life will change,” Anne says, handing him a cup of tea.

Harry rolls his eyes, “I don’t care to meet her. It’s all bullshit,” Harry grumbles.

Part One


There were very few things that bugged Y/N in life. Y/N hated when people didn’t use their turn signals when driving, or when people walked too slow in front of her, or when people rolled their eyes or stared at her, but she absolutely loathed when people wouldn’t respect her choice and try and force her to talk. It was clear, crystal clear, that she wasn’t much of a talker, and yes or no questions where the good route to go, but when people edged her on she got upset.

For example, Harry just couldn’t wrap his mind around how his other half would not utter a single word to him. Y/N had written down on a whiteboard that she was ‘mute’ and would really prefer if Harry stayed away from the label. She explained that even though he was her soulmate (and she would love to be open with him) talking just didn’t seem like something she was ready for.

She watched as Harry rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, and frowned. She could feel his annoyance (literally) and she wanted to stub her toe on the table just to tick him off, but she felt like it was rude and she didn’t want to put herself through the pain as well.

“So like what? I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with someone who won’t talk to me?” Harry asked, his eyes on her as she walks down the hallway of her apartment complex.

Y/N shrugs, ‘learn asl,’ she signs.

“The fuck does that mean?” Harry spat.

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The Tenth Floor pt 1

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader & Taehyung x Reader

Min Yoongi had gone through 34 secretaries in the past 24 months, and each one of them left in tears. This fact alone should have warned you against taking the job, but the pay was too good to pass up. Surely you could put up with a billionaires temper-tantrums, right?

Genre: Fluff, humor, probably some angst

Warnings: Strong language, smut talked about/implied, some dark themes

Part 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13


You certainly looked the part. Dress slacks, light-blue blouse, a blazer with the sleeves rolled up once. You were even wearing heels, much to your distaste. You had bought your slacks at a consignment store cheap, and they fit other than the length. You planned to either have them hemmed or buy new ones as soon as you got your first pay check, but for now you would have to survive without practical shoes.

The elevator you were standing in was basically a box of mirrors, and everywhere you looked you saw yourself. It was a little disconcerting, so you tried to focus on your phone. You felt the elevator stop, and you glanced up at the numbers on the wall. You were only on the fifth floor, so you guessed someone else must be going up as well.

You were right, and watched as two young men stepped into the elevator with you. The taller of the two gave you a smile as the other almost pressed the button for the tenth floor, noticed it was already lit up, and dropped his hand.

“You must be the new secretary.” He commented, and you raised your eyebrows.

“Yeah, how did you—“

“We know everyone on the tenth floor.” The taller man replied. “My name’s Seokjin, by the way.” He held out his hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you.” You said, giving them both a smile. “I look forward to getting to know you both.”

“Don’t count on it.” The second man snorted.

Seokjin shot the other man a look, and hit his arm lightly. “Jimin, don’t scare the girl off on her first day.” Jimin shrugged, unperturbed.

“What do you mean, ‘don’t count on it’?” You asked, and Jimin smiled.

“I mean, you won’t be around long enough to get to know us.” He looked over to Seokjin. “I’d give her a week, tops.”

Seokjin sighed. “Such a pessimist.” He chided before sizing you up. “She’ll last a month.”

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RFA HEADCANONS: They Get Jealous~

(It’s almost midnight, what am I doing with my life. ANYWAYS. It would be so great if someone would request something *hint hint* *wink wonk* because it’s hard trying to be creative. Lel.)

~~

RFA~ they get jealous. V+Saeran included.

~~

Yoosung:

Yoosung has always been a more jealous type. Literally, if he even sees you talking to anyone other than him, he can’t help but feel a little uneasy.

So, he would go to the restroom for a brief few seconds, and when he gets back..

You’re. Talking. To. Another. Guy??

Now, he didn’t know that this ‘other guy’ was a cousin you haven’t seen in a while.

His stomach goes in knots, and he balls up his fists, wanting nothing more than to go push the guy away from you.

Sadly, he is probably too shy to just walk up there, but for a few moments, he tries to gather up his courage to go take you back.

When he realizes he’s just too nervous, he starts to think that he lost you, and starts tearing up a bit.

At this point, you’d be like “damn boi, how long it take to pee?” And start to look around..well, o shit, your cute blondie is just standing all the way back there.

“Yoosung? Come over here! I’d like you to meet my cousin…wait, are you crying?”

“Wha- cousin?! Oh..! Uhm..I- I wasn’t crying..!! I yawned! Aha. Hi. Nice to meet you, (C/N)..!”

~~

Jumin:

Uhm. Who are you talking to?

He is pissed off when he see’s you talking to one of his better looking security guards.

L I T E R A L L Y JUST SHOVES THE GUY AWAY.

He’s probably gonna start getting really touchy on you, (kink) and grip you by the waist h a r d.

Casually starts questioning the security guard as to wHY WAS HE TALKING TO YOU?

you’d get really embarrassed, and tell jumin to stop making a scene, buT HE IS JUST “NO” NO ONE ELSE CAN LOOK AT YOU LIKE THAT?

Straight out fires the guy. Oops.

“Jumin, what the hell?! Why would you fire him? He wasn’t trying to steal me away! I love you, and only you.”

“…Hm. I don’t like people eyeing you like that. That’s for me to do, no one else. ..(Y/N)..you know I love you. I only want what’s best for you.”

~~

Jaehee;

You two will be at one of Zen’s musicals, just enjoying the show..wheN THIS IDIOT JUST DECIDES TO START FLIRTING WITH YOU???

You try to tell the guy, you don’t swing that way?? But he doesn’t listen??

Jaehee goes into extreme jealous woman mode, and actually lashes out on the guy.

“She said she doesn’t go that way. Do you not get what she meant? Are you that idiotic? Do I seriously have to show you who she BELONGS to?”

Will casually start making out with you right then and there.

The guy will scoff and walk off, giving Jaehee the middle finger.

Jaehee awkwardly pulls away, refusing to make eye contact. She’ll probably start nervously running her hand though her hair.

She apologizes??

Nono, sweetie. No need to apologize. You’re a d o r a b l e.

You both end up leaving the theater, just so you can cuddle the rest of the night in peace.

“Jaehee, it’s fine. If anything, I thought it was cute..now, come here and love me, baby girl~”

Will high key melt at being called baby girl.

“I’m glad that you could just put the situation behind you so quickly..but, I’m warning you. Next time, I may not be so calm. You’re mine, (Y/N).”

~~

Zen:

Everywhere you went you seemed to get hit on in one way or another. Normally, Zen would brush it off, knowing that you only had eyes for him.

But oh.

One day. ONE DAY. He’s just had enough.

“Hey, cutie~ I lost my number, mind if I-”

“Yeah, she does mind, actually. Back. Off.”

He would roll his sleeves up, intimidating the guy with his muscles.

“Woah, chill. I was just being nice to the lad-”

“well, that lady happens to be taken. Now, if you ever so kindly..back the hell off, that would be great.”

STARTS GETTING REALLY INTIMIDATING IN GENERAL.

LIKE YOU CAN FEEL THE TENSION.

HE IS READY TO BEAT THE GUYS ASS.

He’s already a big fan on Pda, but ohhh, it’s gonna increase.

You practically can’t be farther than 5 inches away from him from then on.

“Zen, you know you’re the only one I see..”

“I know, Princess. I’m sorry, it’s just becoming so frequent..I want people to know not to mess with you.”

~~

707:

You two will be joking around, and then you’ll probably trip into someone. (Klutz.)

They’ll help you up, and give you a cheeky smile.

DANG THEY ARE H O T.

They’ll pull some lame pick up line, like “oh, you fell for me kdkfkfk ha.”

SEVEN WILL GET SO MAD.

B A C K O F F M Y W I F E???

His normally cheerful attitude is gonna change real quick.

He will get really serious, and pull you closer to him, making sure you aren’t hurt from falling, first. (Or diseased from the guy.)

High key starts sassing the guy.

Starts to laugh, and gives the guy a lil chest bump thing, as they 'make up’

Yeah, well. Seven stole his wallet out of his pocket.

That guy just lost everything, lol.

His money, his ID card, his credit card, business cards.

Oops.

“Well, you got over that fast. I’m impressed.”

“Heh. Babe, look what I got!”

“IS THAT HIS- oh my god. You’re evil. I love it.”

~~

V:

He’s so gentle, he just stands there awkwardly, shifting his weight on a different foot, waiting for you to hurry up.

You were at an art museum, and this guy came up to you, trying to show you the “best art works” there. He started cracking jokes, and yOU WERE LAUGHING AT THEM?

you didn’t know it was bothering V so much, but he was literally starting to tear up?

He wanted to step in, but if you were having fun, and you were happy.. He would stand it.

He actually felt his heart sink when the guy gave you his email address.

“Yeah, email me sometime. I can teach you a lot more!”

You sighed the moment the guy left, and crumpled up the paper, tossing it in the trash.

“What a waste. I didn’t want to be rude, but God..he was showing the worst pi- V? What’s wrong?”

“Oh..Nothing. Don’t worry about me. Shall we go over here?”

HE GOT THIS SMALL, CUTE LITTLE SMILE WHEN YOU THREW THE PAPER AWAY, THO, LIKE SKCIFJFJNF.

~~

Saeran: (Mild spoiler?? Maybe??)

Literally doesn’t like you talking to anyone.

Anyone.

He’s not the kind of guy that is like “oh, you can’t do this, you can’t do that.” But it’s easy to get him jealous.

In fact, he got jealous of his own brother.

“SAERAN~ SEVEN JUST TOLD ME THE GREATEST JO-”

“Yeah? Well if you like his jokes so much, why don’t you just date him instead?!”

Ends up getting in a huge fight with Saeyoung.

Low key starts trying to crack jokes (and fails) to keep up with his brother.

He starts getting so frustrated, thinking he was never going to be as good as his brother. That you would leave him for Saeyoung.

Poor smol bean. You had to reassure him that he was the only Choi for you..in fact, he was the only one at all for you.

“Saeran. You know that I love you, right?”

“Hmph.”

“Saerannn.”

“….I..love you too, I guess..”

“YOU GUESS? IS OUR LOVE IN QUESTION.” (He freaks out a bit when you say this, lel)

“Wha- no! No.. I..Uhm, I love you, (Y/N). I really do.”

without really meaning it

The Way You Said “I Love You” Prompts
@stileslydiah requested “24. Without really meaning it”

Watching Derek dote on someone is hard – harder than Stiles thought it would ever be, despite the fact he knows it’s insincere; despite the fact it’s the job and nothing more.

 It’s hard because Stiles hasn’t had those arms around him in months, hasn’t had opportunity to arrange a chance meeting on a crowded street in weeks, hasn’t had Derek’s eyes meet his and watched his mouth curl into a smile for him.

 Derek’s team have been fairly indulgent, letting Stiles tag along on the assignment to observe and allowing him to blend with various crowds just to be close to Derek. Early on, before Derek insinuated himself into their mark’s life, they even allowed them to talk on the phone, but that might as well have been in another lifetime.

 Sometimes, Stiles hates his job, hates Derek’s job, hates the fact they’d never have met if it wasn’t for their jobs because then he can’t hate it as much.

 Stiles is across the restaurant and he can’t tear his eyes away from the back of Derek’s head for more than a few seconds at a time, usually at the prompting of the agent he’s sitting across from.

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anonymous asked:

You know how when a guy is hard and it doesn't wanna go down? What about Y/n being horny and keeps going back at Harry to touch her? and he teases her like "What's wrong baby, you've been getting in me pants all day,am I that irresistible?" and she'll just roll her eyes and starts undressing

this hurt me more than it’s gonna hurt you fUCK.

So let’s say they’ve been out all day.

They attended Niall’s cook out and the entire time, she’s basically all over him.

She hates it. Hates it because she’s usually in control and can keep her shit down but today there’s just something kicking around her system that won’t leave her be.

Maybe it’s how good Harry looks, clad in black skinny jeans, his favorite tan boots and a striped, casual, short-sleeve button up. His hair’s all fluffy and soft from blow-drying it this morning, jaw covered with faint scruff from not shaving for a few days. He smells devine, his cologne a mixture of ocean salts and woodsy smoke, swirling in her lungs and nearly suffocating her in the best way possible. His lips look extra pink and juicy, the skin flushed of raspberry and looking soft and supple– perfect to bite on. He has his sunglasses tucked back into his hair so that his jaw and cheekbones are on full display, the muscles ticking as he talks or swallows or smiles or laughs and, fuck, how can someone be so beautiful with so little effort?

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Day One: Homesickness

Thought I’d start off @vldangstweek with something that turns from angsty to fluffy, just because, based on the rest of this weeks prompts, it’s gonna get waaayyyy angstier (knowing me, anyway). Everything will be tagged with vldangstweek and any of my usual angst tags (angst, langst, klangst, etc)

Let my children go home, they’re stressed and tired (under a cut for length).


“Come on Lance, one more time! You need to defeat this gladiator before I can allow anyone to go to dinner!” Allura shouted down from the observation deck.

The quiet groans of his teammates filled his head and Lance winced, stepping back to stand his ground against the bot attacking him. His vision wavered over his helmet and his fingers trembled against his bayard, unable to form it because of the close range combat style. He grunted, rolling as the bot dove for him, sweeping it’s legs out from under it and sending it to the ground. Briefly, he heard Hunk’s cheer of encouragement in his comms, and then the bot was back up again, charging at him.

Lance sighed, side stepping the bot and pressing his shaking hands to his head, trying to stop the swimming feeling in his brain, the burn at the back of his throat and eyes, the tightness in his chest. He took a hit, hard, and fell backwards onto his ass, teeth clacking together.

“Dude, seriously, we’re starving!” Pidge called out. “You need to beat this!”

Lance took a shaky breath, shooting a glare at the deck. “You want me to beat it? Fine. I’ll beat it.”

Before the bot could get any closer, Lance whipped out his bayard, transforming it in the process and ignoring Allura’s shouts of this being a hand to hand fight. Within seconds, the bot was in a smoking heap on the floor and Lance was shaking, sweat curling down his forehead. Allura stormed out of the observation deck and onto the main floor, eyebrows furrowed. “That was not the assignment, Lance. You’ll have to do it again.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

Lance ripped off his helmet and chucked it to the ground. When he looked up, Allura took a step back at the ferocity in his face, the tears in his eyes. “I said, no. I’m not doing this bull shit anymore. They’re not either,” he snapped, pointing towards the deck. “You don’t get to treat us this way, we’re the only reason you’re not dead or still in those stupid pods. You called us family, Allura.”

His voice broke and his lip quivered as he stumbled back, shaking his head. “You don’t get to treat family like this. Not when we’re doing all of this for you.”

He swallowed and spun on his heel, storming from the room. Allura hesitated, glancing back at the deck only to find the rest of the paladins and Coran standing behind her. She studied the group, noted the lines on their faces and the bags under their eyes, and frowned. “Do you all agree with him?”

They remained silent for a moment, glancing at each other. Hunk spoke up first, his voice gentle. “Yeah. I do, at least.”

“Me too,” Pidge piped up, staring at the floor and fiddling with her bayard.

Keith nodded silently, rubbing a hand up and down one arm and looking off to the side. Hunk huffed. “Allura, we…I would say we’re homesick, but I don’t know if that covers all of us.”

“We’re Earth sick,” Keith offered. “And Lance…”

Shiro spoke for the first time. “Lance has the most family to miss out of the five of us.”

“And honestly?” Hunk muttered. “You yelling all the time, you pushing him, and us, all the time? No breaks, no relaxation time at all? I’m amazed he didn’t snap before this.”

Allura swallowed. “I’m…”

“It’s okay,” Hunk promised. “We understand, you want to stop the Galra, stop Zarkon.”

“But you have to remember that we’re all volunteering to do this,” Pidge said, fidgeting from foot to foot. “There’s nothing keeping anyone here other than empathy. Don’t give Lance a reason to stop caring, or he will leave.”

Allura bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. “I should go-”

“No,” Keith said firmly, stepping forwards and resting a hand on Allura’s arm. “We got this. You two go get dinner.”

She and Coran studied the paladins for a moment before nodding in agreement and leaving the training deck.

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The Secret Book Club Part 3

Originally posted by myriam97blog

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Content/Warnings: If you squint, there’s sorta fluff? Though not with the god of mischief 😜 But more than anything there’s angst. You guys should have known that was gonna come sooner or later! Also minor spoiler for Ragnarok!

Words: 1864

Prompt: LOKI X READER WHO SHARE BOOKS AND READ TO EACHOTHER AND LOTS OF FLUFF HHH THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE PLEASE

Anon I promise we’ll get to your fluff soon, but it’s always so much fluffier when it’s built up, don’t you think? As always if you want to be added to the tag list, inbox me! 

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Part one
Part two
Part four
Part five
Part six
Part seven (NSFW)

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The first time they say they love you...

Summary: A little headcanon on how would be the first time these HP characters say they love you, the reader.

Remus Lupin

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

These three little words had more meaning to Remus than any other word had, to him, they held so much power and emotion he couldn’t just say them to anyone at any time. He had to think it through, was it really worth it put someone’s life in danger, your life in danger, just because his heart was completely drawn to you? He had to be certain that he could protect you and that you would be safer by his side than by yourself, that you were really indeed happier when he was present. He had to be sure you weren’t just infatuated with each other, and yes, truly, in love. And it was on this particular day that he was sure. You were inside Honeydukes in complete awe with all the sweets available, hands full of Chocolate Frogs and pixie puffs, you looked at all sides trying to find sweets enough to take some back to your friends and Remus couldn’t help the feeling he had looking at you, so he simply smiled and said “I love you”. Sure you dropped all the chocolate on the floor and breathed a shaky “W-what?” at your boyfriend’s sudden realisation, but he said it again with all the conviction in the world, receiving an ecstatic kiss and a very sweet “I love you too, Moony.” just right back.

Sirius Black

Originally posted by totallybenbarnes

Sirius was the opposite, the words never meant much to him. They held no power to him, in his logic to prove love was to show love. His way to say “I love you” was by saying “take care of yourself” and “be safe”, it was waking up during the night just to see if you weren’t having any nightmares and it was making you your favourite tea and read you a book when you where indeed having them. It was giving you his jumper whenever you forgot yours and spend the entire day in the library with you even if he disliked being there. But when Sirius realised that those words meant something to you, he would hold your face and say “I’m sorry I don’t say this as much as I should but I do love you, sweetheart, I really do, so much.” and would press his lips on yours passionately, surprised because differently from the other times he had spoken those little words, they this time, held more meaning than they had ever done, and ever since that day he would say it often to remind you that he truly, utterly, completely loved you.

James Potter

Originally posted by bobdillpickle

James, for a long time, thought those words were silly. He had convinced everyone and even himself that he didn’t believe in that magical cheesy love he easily found on muggle’s romances. It was when he met you that he started changing his mind, it was when you rejected him so many times before accepting to go out with him that he understood that it was possible to hurt from love. It was only when you pressed your silky soft lips on his that he understood what the ‘butterflies’ were and he felt stupid for not believing his friends when they said all that unbelief towards love would backfire. But it was when you were taking a stroll around the Hogwarts’ lake during the winter that he felt the necessity to say those words, it was when you looked at the sky in utter happiness as you felt the first freezing snowflakes falling on your face, frosting your cheeks, it was when you smiled at the sight of snow that you grabbed James’ hands and twirled like a small child during Christmas, it was when you whispered “Snow!” like it was pure magic that he let those words escape his lips, and they escaped so easily, so smoothly that the smile on your face convinced him that love was the best thing in the world.

Teddy Lupin

Originally posted by imaginesforlifetime

To Teddy it was relative, he never felt like saying it, it didn’t really matter to him. Even when you started dating, he said it every once in a while that he was in love with you, but never that he loved you. After all, they had a difference and it saddened you a little bit that he would never say it, maybe he wasn’t sure you were the one for him, maybe he was just infatuated? Maybe he didn’t love you? You were a bit let down to be in all honesties, you had been dating for almost two years and he had never said it, not even once, but perhaps that was just his way of being. So you thought that it wasn’t worth confronting him about it, you’d just try to let it go. But on this specific Friday during Summer, you were spending a week with the Potters, and Teddy asked you to dye his hair bubblegum pink. And you agreed, you spread the dye through every soft lock as he sat on a chair in front of a mirror, you noticed he was staring at you through it. You were quietly doing your job, humming one of the lullabies you used to sing for your little siblings, focusing on his hair but the staring wouldn’t stop and when you met his eyes he was trying to hold a smirk. “What are you staring at, Lupin?” you asked raising an eyebrow, “You, (Y/L/N)” he replied, not holding back his infamous smirks. “And why’s that?” “Because you’re stunning and I love you.” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You do?” You heart had nearly stopped, he had said it, he had freaking said it for Merlin’s sake. “I do, (Y/N), very much.” He said smiling at you. “Well, I-I love you too, Teddy.”

James Sirius Potter

Originally posted by prince-ezra-miller

James had a little taste for some of the muggle stuff, his grandfather Arthur Weasley had taught him all he knew about them and even allowed him to borrow his muggle car. One day during summer, when James was talking to you on the phone, you mentioned you had had a fight with your family about some specific grades, that you were really upset and he immediately told you to get ready because he was going to pick you up for a ride, it would make you feel better. He asked his granddad if he could lend him his car to rescue you and soon drove to your house, where you waited sitting on the doorstep, cleaning some of your tears and smiling at the sight of him. You entered the car and he immediately hugged you, you stayed like that for a minute or so, just being close to each other and enjoying the feeling of being in each other arms. “Thank you, James, for taking me away from here.” He kissed your forehead, shaking his head and telling you to put the seat belt on as he started driving. After what felt like ten minutes on the road you opened the window and looked out on it, the comfortable wind refreshing your soul and drying all your tears, your hair flowing backwards as you smiled in contentment. You felt pure bliss, and so did he. James almost couldn’t believe himself on how alluring, sweet and kind you were and how you deserved to be with someone who would love you entirely and make you happy. And in that moment, he knew he wanted to be that person. And as you opened all the windows so the wind would flow through the entire car and you laid your head on his shoulder, he whispered only for you to hear, even though no one was around, “I love you, (Y/N)”. You lifted your head in ecstasy, smiling big, kissing his cheek slowly, “I love you too, Potter.”

Albus Severus Potter

Now Albus would let it slip during a heated fight, he would be so pissed, so furious that all his shy, conserved demeanor would just vanish right away in front of your eyes, he was your best friend and he was exhausted of seeing you giving your all to people who didn’t care for you and ended up tearing your heart apart. He would be so angry at the thought of your heart breaking again in careless hands when he could take such good care of you he would just let it slip, “You just give yourself away to assholes with infinitely lower IQs than yours and end up completely shattered, you don’t deserve this and you hate this feeling yet you always go back to it.” He shouted, “I hate seeing you like this, it’s the absolute worst feeling in the world and it hurts me even more that you keep putting yourself in harmful relationships when you could be with someone who would treat you well and look after you, someone who would love you more than anything in this world and make you happy.” And by that time, tears would be already escaping your eyes, trying senselessly to dry them with the sleeves of your jumper. “Yeah, like who? Who would love me?” You’d scream back. “Me, (Y/N)! I would, I do, so please just stop doing this to yourself and let me love you.” He’d say quietly, his shyness getting the best of him once again, anger long gone by now. And you’d jump in his arms, hiding your face on his chest as tears could not be held any longer. For the first time, you felt like things would be okay and love would finally be kind to you.

Scorpius Malfoy

Originally posted by luckybluegifs

You went on a Quidditch game, your house against Slytherin, you didn’t have anything against them, specially since you were dating one, but after that one Slytherin asshole hid all your belongings around the school, ridiculed your house and your friends it became all personal, and you wanted nothing more than your house to crush him and his team. Scorpius was a caring and protective boyfriend, but when it came to Quidditch you guys had agreed you’d cheer for your respective houses and never, ever argue about it. And as you watched the game, booing that shithead and rooting for your house as loud as you could, Scorpius watched you silently from the other side of the field, he observed your clothes all colored in respect for your house and how you laughed and cheered as your house scored. You looked so radiant and so beautiful in that moment, sticking up for your house and yourself, he didn’t know what came into him but when he realised what he was doing he already was in your house’s side of the field in the grandstand and his arms were wrapped around your waist. “What are you doing here?” You asked kissing his cheek, ecstatic to see him but confused since you’d agreed when games like that happened you wouldn’t talk about it or go together, to avoid fights. “I came to root for my girl and her house, no shithead has the right to do this to the girl I love.” “Even if he’s from your house?” “Even if he’s from my house. He’ll be hearing from me afterwards.” He said throwing an annoyed look at the boy, who stared at both of you. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him right there, your friends cheered for you and let loud “awww”s as he pressed his body against yours, deepening the kiss. “I love you too, Malfoy.”


A/N: Hope u enjoy this sweets, x

Masterlist // Writing Schedule

Teacher || Min Yoongi

Originally posted by relationshipwithbts

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Fluff


“Sangwoo, can you come here for a second?” The boy looked up from where he was drawing in the back of the class and locked eyes with you. He was sat alone in the corner, away from the other kids and it broke your heart to see him like this. Sangwoo was usually active with the other kids and used to always participate in class, but lately he had been pulling away from everyone.

The boy cleaned up the items he had been using and he slowly got up from where he was sitting. The sluggish movements of the six year old worried you and a frown came across you face. His eyes seemed to be locked on the ground as he walked towards you, not wanting to make eye contact. The action seemed to be his way of hiding from you and you sighed, slowly crouching down to his height.

“Sangwoo, do you have something you want to tell teacher about?” You asked. You hoped the words would be enough encouragement for the boy to speak but the words he said weren’t the ones you had been looking for. You became even more worried as you heard the words that left his mouth and you wondered if something was going on at home.

“I’m not in trouble, am I?” Sangwoo questioned. His tone made your heart clench and you quickly shook your head, cancelling all fears of his. He seemed to calm down a little bit at the fact that he wasn’t in trouble.

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this is my @aftgexchange gift for @sirandking i’m not sure if this is quite what u were hoping for n it’s messy but idk i kinda like it 

tw for mentions of alcohol as a coping mechanism, as well as super brief blink-and-you-miss-it mentions of riko, drugs and self-harm

ao3 link


“That sweater is new,” Kevin comments as he seats himself in the beanbag next to Andrew’s, passing over a mug of coffee as he does so. It’s a small, meaningless comment - the kind of small talk they both collectively despise - but it’s something, and since the death of Riko, Kevin’s found that there are not really any other threads connecting the two of them. Silence has panned out between them for weeks. He tells himself he’s irritated by it because it’s bad for the team’s dynamics - a rapport with your teammates is essential for a successful team. He won’t admit that Andrew is probably the closest thing to a friend Kevin has around here, except for maybe Neil.

He doesn’t expect his comment to be dignified with a response; he knows Andrew well enough to know to expect perhaps a nod of acknowledgement, or a stony look his way, questioning and judging his observation. Nevertheless, the silence makes him ever-so-slightly self-conscious, so as his eyes catch the way the sleeves fall over Andrew’s hands, he tacks on a lousy “–and too big for you.”

Andrew Minyard has always been best at defying expectations.

“It’s not mine,” he responds coolly, devoid of emotion or even acknowledgment, eyes still trained on the contents of his mug as he mutters, as though talking to no one.

It’s an easy enough admittance, casual and shameless, yet it still manages to leave Kevin embarrassingly taken aback. He knows, realistically, that he probably has the best insight into the relationship between Andrew and Neil than any other outsider, however he’s still never quite got it. The logical part of his brain tells him it shouldn’t work - two people both so shattered and fiery, like shards of broken glass, in such close proximity can only end in further shattering, as far as he’s aware. And flames. It’s concerning, something with so much power, with so many sparks - just one wrong move could become a savage wildfire that burns his team down to nothing more than ashes. It’s risky and dangerous and stupid and he hates it, is terrified of it, but this admittance that comes so easily changes something in him.

Because something about the idea of Andrew Minyard curled into a beanbag with a cup of coffee and his boyfriend ’s (and isn’t that in itself another unexpected and ever-so-slightly strange thing to wrap his head around) sweater on feels less like untamed sparks and more like a candle light. And that’s much more soothing than terrifying, even if it is still a little strange to him.  

Perhaps trying to understand this would be a good idea, he concludes. So he asks “When did all this start for you anyway?” waving a hand conspiratorially to punctuate the question. And this time he’s almost convinced he’ll be ignored, or delivered a vague, meaningless answer as a result of the unspecific question, but the furrow of Andrew’s brow as he lifts his gaze up to Kevin’s tells him otherwise. It’s a strange, uncharted territory.

“February.”

“You liked him before then,” Kevin suddenly finds himself accusing before he can stop himself, still processing this new information, whilst considering every sign he could remember, the most poignant being the way Andrew did things for nobody but Neil. Could only have his arm twisted by Neil. Had always drifted towards Neil, had never raised a knife to Neil, had always been straight with admittances to Neil; Neil, Neil, Neil was the exception to every rule of the Andrew Minyard handbook, the one Kevin had studied meticulously and still never found a loophole in. He finds himself itching to know more.

“I hate him.” Andrew deadpans, a reflex at this point, and if Kevin was anyone else, he’d have furrowed his brow, wrinkled up his nose, frowned and found himself reprimanding Andrew, but he’s not anyone else, so he smirks instead, because he thinks he’s finally starting to understand how Andrew works, and this kind of understanding is as scintillating as it is spine-chilling, like watching a horror film, driving past a car crash or finding a spider in your room - the kind of fear that keeps you captivated, unable to tear your eyes away from it even when you know it’s awful, and you shouldn’t, and if this is what Andrew feels around Neil, no wonder he hates him. Andrew has never enjoyed feeling, as far as Kevin knows, and something so intense and contradictory, something that can’t be calculated and analysed can only be devastating.

The words “I know,” feel foreign and awkward on his tongue, his body tense as they slip out and it all multiplies when Andrew’s blank stare shifts from the mug he warms his hands on to Kevin’s face. “Why him?” he eggs on, trying to coax something out of Andrew, whether it be more answers and information, something to help him understand, or just a reaction, something to put the world back in order and dissolve the itchy curiosity and mere residue of fear that has settled on his skin.

Andrew ignores it entirely. “You’ve reached your daily quota of questions you can ask me for free.” He pauses, as though considering something for a moment, before finally deciding against whatever it is and dismissing Kevin with a curt “You can go now.”

Kevin goes.


The next time Kevin sees Andrew, it’s because he’s paused the exy game on his laptop and emerged from his room for the first time in hours after smelling something divine. He is greeted with the sight of an unholy amount of Indian food scattered across the table, and isn’t sure whether he wants to kiss Andrew (if he was not in a relationship, if Andrew was not in a relationship, if either of them were in any way attracted to each other and if he had a death wish - none of which are even remotely true) or kill him, because really , this is not how future professional athletes should eat, but he can hear Jean’s voice in his head telling him to relax, to loosen the tight leash of control he has over his life in order for total success, thus he reluctantly picks up the spare fork left on the side and a tub of something orange, before sitting on the other end of

the sofa to Andrew.

“Nicky and Aaron will be here soon,” Andrew states at the exact same time that Kevin asks “Where’s Neil?”, changing his course of action to start Kevin down instead.

There’s a handful of new mottled bruises adorning his face from who knows where, and a nasty looking cut beneath his eye that he’s certain Aaron will fuss over later, much to Andrew’s dismay, and for a moment he considers asking if he’s okay,  before swiftly realising what a stupid idea that is and dismissing it completely as Andrew opens his mouth again.

“I’m not his keeper.”

“I know.” Again. Andrew sighs.

“Did I or did I not tell you that you have asked as many free questions as you are permitted to today?” This time, as Andrew snaps, Kevin hears it.

“Free?” he asks around a mouthful of rice, swallowing hastily before he continues. “So if I give you something, I can ask more?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but Andrew grants him a small nod anyway. “Neil and I have - had - a thing.” Kevin agonisingly anticipates his next words as Andrew scoops up another mouthful of food. Static silence stretches out between them until he swallows again. “Truth for truth. For everything you ask me, I ask you something.”

“Deal.”

“It’s my turn.” His gaze shoots skywards, face contorting in mock-thought. “Why are you so interested?”

“In?”

He rolls his eyes. “Do I have to spell it out?” is punctuated with a sigh. “Me and Neil.”

“I don’t understand it,” is all Kevin replies, because, really, he’s not all too sure.

“Understand what?”

“Any of it. It’s a lot to process.” Andrew nods as Kevin finishes, despite the answer being indisputably lame.

“It’s your turn.”

“Why him?” falls out of Kevin’s mouth again like a reflex. He watches as Andrew’s blank expression twitches and his eyes shut for a second in something akin to stoicism.

“He’s interesting.” Kevin knows how much that means from a perpetually bored man.

“He’s kind of messed up,” he replies hesitantly, though there’s really no “kind of,” - there’s not doubt that Neil’s messed up - and he isn’t sure whether his words are a challenge or a disagreement.

There’s something almost wistful in Andrew’s eyes. “Exactly.”

Kevin gets that, too. The reason things have always worked with Thea, even when others told him, told both of them , that they shouldn’t, is because she always got it. She knew what it was like to be a Raven, she knew the complicated relationship he had with Riko and the Moriyamas, she never judged, never told him his reactions were gratuitous or invalid, she just understood .

Understanding, true understanding, is unparalleled in rarity, and perhaps the most coveted trait of all.

“Why alcohol?” interrupts Kevin from his thoughts, and it takes him a moment longer than it should to process that it’s Andrew’s turn again.

“What?” Kevin asks, wrinkling up his face.

“You could have any coping mechanism you wanted: drugs, self-harm, running yourself to the bone, food addiction, therapy, adult colouring books…” he lists off, his eyes infinitesimally lighter than usual, and Kevin resists the urge to roll his eyes, because of course the only person who can amuse Andrew Minyard is Andrew Minyard. “Why alcohol?” he repeats.

“It’s the only thing that can make me forget.”

“There are drugs that could do that much easier,” Andrew replies, but there are lines in his forehead as he tacks on “probably.”

“After Seth and Aaron,” Kevin responds cautiously, “and you – cracker dust is the worst I swore I’d ever do. And that–” he pauses again, mind casting him back to nights at Eden, panic attacks in toilet stalls and the burn in his throat that leaves his brain null and void of all things Evermore. “–It’s not enough on its own.”

“It’s weak. And unhealthy.”

“I know.” He replies, and there’s something cold and cumbersome building up at the pit of his stomach as the topic is stretched out like an elastic band, millimetres away from snapping or closing back in on itself, so he tries his hardest not to trip over words as they stumble out of his mouth. “It’s my turn again. How does it work - you and him - after everything? Your past. How do you–”

“No.” Andrew cuts him off, fists clenching tighter around the cutlery in his hands. “You don’t get to ask that. Something else.”

Kevin doesn’t say sorry, but his face does, even if there’s something about pulling a reaction out of Andrew that sets his nerves on fire. “What are you scared of?”

Andrew blinks at him once, empty composure regained. “Heights.”

Kevin’s face wrinkles up. How can a man who has spent so long mocking Kevin for his fears of the Moriyamas, of the Ravens, of death , be afraid of something so trivial, something that is a fear of death, in a way, in itself. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of death.”

“I’m not.” Andrew replies, a hint of a sneer on his face as he adds “And I hate that word.”

“Afraid?” Kevin asks, shrugging when Andrew nods. “If you’re not afraid of death, what is it about heights that you’re scared of?”

“Falling.” Andrew replies hollowly, and Kevin’s about to ask more, about to ask about how he can go to a rooftop so often with Neil - does Neil know? - when the conversation is interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock, and the two boys shift around just in time to watch a drenched Neil, looking like he’s just taken a fully-clothed shower, stumble through the door, flanked by Dan and Allison, both also varying levels of waterlogged.

As the girls immediately make their way over to the excess of food lying on the table, eyes wide and begging Andrew and Kevin to let them have some, Neil slides effortlessly into the space between them and turns to Andrew, who tentatively reaches out towards him and ruffles a hand through his hair, watching as Neil slides his soiled jacket off and finally wiping his now wet hand on Neil’s shirt to dry it.

The sides of Neil’s mouth twitch and Kevin battles with the urge to turn away, to leave.

“There’s enough food there to feed a small army,” Neil mutters, low enough that the words were really meant only for Andrew, and softer than Kevin’s ever heard. It’s more than slightly disconcerting.

“You’re a small army,” Andrew retorts, only Neil must be hearing something else completely in that, because next thing he knows, Neil’s turned around to face the girls who are still fawning over the makeshift banquet.

“Invite the rest of the team and you can help yourselves,” he states, watching with eyes showing something reminiscent of fondness as Allison immediately pulls her phone out and Dan digs through their drawers for extra cutlery.

Neil turns back to Andrew, the ghost of a smile hanging from his mouth fading after a second, face wrinkling up.

“Isn’t that sweater mine?”

Kevin’s mind may say “Disgusting,” but he can feel the sides of his mouth quirk upwards as he finds Andrew’s face encrusted with crumbs of fear like he’s tumbling, freefalling, into an abyss.

Stick With Me, Kid *Negan Series*

Originally posted by grungedaddykinks

Summary: Negan finds a little girl, no more than ten, amongst a car wreckage, after finding out she’s alone in the world. He takes her as his own, raising her through the apocalypse. If there’s one thing that his greatest pride but also his biggest weakness, it’s his daughter, Y/N!
Ratings/ warnings: Teen, mentions of blood and violence. I feel like, Negan as a dad is a warning.
Writers Notes: This doesn’t really have a set plot, it will follow alongside season 6 & 7, I’m unsure if I’ll make it so Carl and reader have a thing. But… I got big feels seeing Negan and Judith.

Notes: I had this idea last year, I wrote a few parts and then forgot about it. Now here I am, uploading it because I miss writing Negan! - Rosalee

Chapter Two


Chapter One: Everybody Dies {Reader 10yrs old}


You weren’t really sure what was happening. One moment you were in your home playing with your dolls, the next your mother is picking you up and buckling you in the car seat. This had happened before, her frantic behaviour, it scared you but you were used to how anxiousness she is now. She never let you outside anymore, even living in the new community of people, she never let you out of her sight.

You peeked out of the car window and caught glimpses of the people you knew running. You also saw people that you didn’t know, dirty and grimy, attacking your friends. You frowned and your curious young eyes trained on the events before you.

“Mum, what’s happening?” Your small voice calling out to the women who was speeding out of the gates, “mum? We have to go back and help!” You plead as she continues to ignore you.

You turn your head and look out of the back window, watching as the gates faded into the background and became no more as your turned a corner. Trees and forest edge being the only scenery.

“Mum what about dad?” You asked in a rush, “we can’t leave him? What about dad? Mum.”

Your eyes welling up as she turned her head looking at you, stone cold stare but fear in her blue eyes as she looked at you. “Y/N, be quiet okay? Dad… he… was bitten okay? You know I told you what happened to people who are bitten? Right?” She glanced back at the road before you as you nodded lightly. “We can’t go back! We’re never going back, it just you and-”

“-MUM!” You yelled and pointed to the road where a man staggered out of the forest edge.

You could only watch as your mum swerved the car to avoid hitting the man. The car skidding along the road and tipping over, barrel rolling and smacking into a tree, upside down. The impact caused you to hit your head and black out for a few minutes; unaware of the potential danger around you.

You blinked your eyes open, a light thumping happening in your head as your vision is blurry. The blood rushing to your head, fast, as you’re stuck upside down.

You hear a deep, gritted growling, sounding like a frustrated animal. You blink rapidly and see, what you assume, is the man from the road trying to crawl through the windshield. Up front he looked rotten, disgusting and a grey sort of colour. Bloodshot eyes, skin flaking from his hands that outstretched trying to grab you.

Your heart thumps in your chest, tears falling from your eyes and you begin to scream. Looking to the driver’s seat and your mum isn’t there, car door open but no sign of her; panic settles in as this… man gets closer.

Over your screams for your dad or mum, you don’t hear a van pull up or the steady feet of men get out. No, all you see is the crazy man get pulled away, black boots stand over him and one slams on his back. A single gunshot is fired making you flinch, whimpering into the silence as it goes straight through his head; stopping the man growls.

The same boots along with a few others walk around the car, you whimper as a pair stop beside your window. “Boss, I think there’s someone alive in the car?” A deep, gruff voice rings out.

“Well, pull them out and let me take a look at them! It’s not rocket-science, Simon.” A smooth, clear voice comes from behind the car.

You stare wide-eyed as a man’s face appears; black moustache and grey, wiry hair, deep confused brown eyes stare at you for a moment. He opens the door, the metal scraping against the floor and he leans in, you whimper and recoil away.

“I’m gonna undo the buckle, be ready for the drop,” he tells you before pressing the buckles button and that sends you falling to the roof.

It doesn’t hurt just a little sudden, you look finally able to see him the right way up and he just gestures for you to crawl out to him. With no other choice you shuffle out of the car, standing up and looking up at the tall man; he’s wearing a khaki coloured shirt, sleeves rolled up and some jeans. He places a hand on your shoulder, moving you around the car to the back where a handful of man are stood. Waiting.

“Just a little girl,” the man holding your shoulder calls out. “Look like whoever she was with is long gone.”

You nervously look at the men. All holding some type of weapon, looking mean and tough. You heard dad and mum talking about a group, mean, biker looking group that took from settlements like where you ran from.

“What’s your name little darlin’?” A voice called out, your (E/C) eyes drift nervously to the voice.

A man with slick, dark hair and a black, leather jacket called to you. He looks mean, in the sense he’s swinging a baseball bat that has barbed wire coiled around it. But he has a kind smile, encouraging almost.

“Go on, tell him your name,” the man holding your shoulder taps lightly and you look down at your feet. Scared and afraid, terrified would be accurate.

“She’s scared, give her a minute,” the same man with the bat calls back. “Skinny Joey, check the car over and Simon bring her over here.”

You feel the slight nudge to move forward, you look up as you walk towards the man, glancing at the few others who are looking over the car. You stop a little short of him, he hands his bat to Simon, you think that’s his name, and then kneel down in front of you. He smells of smoke, leather and a distinct dirt smell, it’s not bad but different.

“Aren’t you just the cutest thing I ever did see, I haven’t seen a child this cute since, shit, before this whole mess.” He’s grinning, “I apologise for my foul mouth, now sweetie what’s your name?”

You take a few seconds and he nods in encouragement, “My mum told me not to talk to strangers.”

He laughs loudly, “That’s a good rule, but your mum isn’t here.” You look down, “And I’m only trying to help, I’m Negan, these are my men. Now you know who we are,” he grins as you look at the others all watching.

“I’m… Y/N,” you say hesitantly.

“Wanna tell me what happened? Why you’re out here all alone?” He looks at the wreckage.

You follow his eyes before looking back at him. “My mum packed me into the car, where we lived was under… attack, I think. By those… things,” you nodded to the man who was trying to get through the windshield, “she was driving fast and swerved not to hit him,” he nods solemnly.

“And she left you?” He asked and you shrugged, “woke up from that tumble and she was gone?” It wasn’t a question but you nodded. He seemed to be in deep thought as you looked at him, he looks up at Simon who gives a small sigh, nodding in agreement to whatever silent conversation they were having. “So, you’ll be coming back with us, we’ve got a good set up someone will-”

You cut him off, “I should stay here, what if… my mum left to get help?”

“Listen, kid,” Negan starts off, “that maybe true or she left you or she left to get help and died, the bad out way the good in this world. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone,” he tilts his head.

You shake your head, “No! You don’t know for sure, she wouldn’t just leave me,” you turn and sit beside the wreckage of the car.

Negan shrugs, taking the bat from Simon and telling his men to get into the trucks and vans. He gives you one last look before driving the way you had driven, you watch as the vans turn in the opposite corner and drive off.

FEW HOURS LATER


Your dad told you stories how it gets worse at night. How to never stay outside at night, you wrapped your arms around your body and shivered from the cold. The sun was setting, getting to that time where the somewhat safeness of the day time faded. Your mum would have been back by now, if she left to get help, she wasn’t.

You felt neglected, why would she just leave you? What would possess her to just leave you. Alone with no one.

You stand up walking across the road, peeking into the forest, maybe she was stuck somewhere. Maybe she needed help! You step into the forest and begin walking, it was hard to see because of the darkness painting the sky slowly.

After a few minutes of walking you see her. Sat up against a tree, already looking just as rotten and disgusting as the man from earlier, plus people attacking where you lived. Her shirt was soaked in blood, you flinched away from the nightmare in front of you, she didn’t even look like your mum but it was her. You step back, twig snapping and your eyes darted to her.

She lazily lifted her head, making groaning sounds in the back of her throat; trying to stand up. Her noises attracted others, you could hear more faint groans, without thinking you turn and begin to run back. You squealed when one almost grabbed a hold of you, ducking and running back to the car, why? You didn’t know.

You clear the forest edge and breath heavily, yet, you smack into something. Or someone. You scream and thrash around to get out of their hold, only stopping when looking up, Negan?

“Just wanted to give you one last offer to come back with us,” he looked beyond you to the forest where you had obviously come from. “What were you doing in there?”

“Looking for my mum,” you muttered. “I found her!”

He nodded, “Well, I guess you don’t need us then, where is she?” Before he can stand up, you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him, he tenses and looks at Simon who shrugs.

“No! Don’t leave me,” you cried; the realisation of being alone and having no one falling onto you. “Their all gone now.” You cried.

“Stick with me, kid.” Negan sighs, rubbing your back reassuringly. “I’ve got you,” he stands up and hands His baseball bat to Simon before walking to the truck.

(Let me know what you think. I’m still editing, hence why things are a little off and such. I’ll get to my laptop soon (published and formatted from phone) hopefully, the tagging works on my phone, otherwise I’m sorry! My first Negan series, with reader as a child, I’m nervous!-Ro)


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