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yhwhsdaughter · 3 years

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Eunuch! Bum x Queen! Reader + King! Sangwoo

word count: 4.1k

tw: sangwoo, noncon, abuse of power, misogyny, murder, cheating, degradation, choking, cursing, minors dni

Ongoing…

[Chapter 2] , [Chapter 3]

Upon sliding the doors open, you were welcomed to blood spraying on your face. Droplets kissed your cheeks and if it was a calmer atmosphere, it would give the illusion of a blush. Reality, however, was much horrifying. Shocked by this, you stopped to assess the scene. Everyone was afraid to move a muscle as the king swung his sword, killing the chief state councilor with a stroke. As his body fell, more blood puddled at your feet, staining your slippers. Once the initial horror faded, you sprang forward, hugging Sangwoo’s midriff. “Your Majesty! Please stop this!” It was a brave or perhaps foolish action, interfering with your ruler. Words falling on deaf ears, he pushed you from him. The closest guard caught your form. Despite his absolute authority, killing nobles without reason, especially high ranking officers, was frowned on.

This is madness.

Your king was beauteous and cruel. A month into his ascension to the throne and he was already crumbling the ideals in which this nation was founded. Stray hairs hung around his chiseled face, tiny beads of sweat mixed with blood giving him a sadistic gleam as he grinned. Looking your way for a moment, he lazily waved at guards, “Take the Queen to her room.” Without a choice, the two of them gently nudged you from the scene. “Your Highness, please follow us.” Though their faces remained unmoving, their tone revealed their true feelings on the matter. Palm pressed against your mouth, you threw one last glance at the massacre before you. Blinking any lingering emotions, you walked away.

—

Pants filled the room as Sangwoo thrusted into you relentlessly. He was angry; even though he’d appointed new council members, he wasn’t sure he could trust them. In his mind, everyone was after his crown. You were angry as well, but for an entirely different reason.

You laid bare before your king, the fine robes that adorned your body pushed aside revealed your soft breasts; legs spread showed the path to your royal cunt. It disgusted you, thinking how many women had been in this bed, in your same position. Though the silk sheets were pristine, it could never truly wash away the sin. He grunted, “Stop overthinking. Just focus on—” he was close “—taking my seed, it’s all that matters.” Uncaring about your pleasure, Sangwoo bent you into an uncomfortable position, one that allowed his member to penetrate your walls at a deeper angle.

You allowed it.

The two of you, mostly you, were under incredible pressure to conceive. Not just a child, but a male heir. The fact that you hadn’t produced a son for the king was worrying to your mother. She wrote, often. It’s all she could talk about in her letters nowadays; there was fear in her that you would suffer as she did. Four miscarriages, three stillbirths, and then you. Highly superstitious, your mother believed that her misfortune was the price for the murder of the heirs by concubines in a fit of jealousy.

“Put a baby in me Sangwoo.”

You nearly begged, if only to end this. Making love wasn’t an option, nor your life a fairytale. No. King Sangwoo only fucked, and in the most inconvenient places too. You’ll never forget the embarrassment endured when you had tea with several noblewomen; your gracious king thought it would be appropriate to do it in a room adjacent to theirs. He bent you over a desk, throwing everything else off it, before sheathing himself inside of you. Emerging twenty minutes later, you couldn’t even look the ladies in the eyes. No one said anything, lest they lose their heads, but they knew.

Spurred by your words, Sangwoo thrusted faster and harder. “Fuuuck.” He stayed attached to you, like a dog, making sure your womb swallowed every last bit of his essence before pulling out. “Get pregnant.” Is all he said to you as he dressed again and exited the chambers. Out of breath and without a care, you laid there on the bed.

—

A life of servitude awaited YoonBum the second he was born. His poverty stricken parents sold him to be a household slave. Doomed to this fate, Bum tried his best to follow through and avoid punishments. Unfortunately, his master was a sadist and everyday, he received a beating.

After running errands, Bum stood in line to receive the bags of rice his master had ordered. It was the last thing on his list before readying to go home and continue working. Being close by, he couldn’t help but overhear several gentlemen talking, “Where is that damned village?!”

The village in question, it seems, was Bum’s hometown. Because it was a tiny place full of peasants and criminals, cartographers didn’t bother putting it on a map. Only those that came from there knew the area. Sangwoo caught him staring. Quickly glancing away, Bum only saw the man motioning to his companions from the corner of his eye. In a matter of seconds, he was facing the man. He was dressed in purple robes and a gat, symbolizing his status. “Do you know where this village is?”

Daring not to look him in the eye, Bum was slow to nod. He’d been out long enough; his master was probably marching towards the market to drag him home. “Show me.” As guessed, a heavy man came barreling in their direction. He was red in the face. “Bum!” Master Yoon screamed obscenities. Coming to a stop, he sneered at the men.

“We need your servant.”

Though the statement seemed like a request, Sangwoo’s tone made it clear that it was an order. The balding man huffed, ready to curse him out and refuse when Sangwoo showed his name tag. It was made of a cool stone, Oh Sangwoo engraved with the royal crest. The fact that was once red turned pale in realization. Meek before his ruler, Mister Yoon had no choice but to relent. “We’ll be taking him then.”

Bum felt his humanity slip away as he was given to another man so easily. With his head bowed down, he followed this strange new path forged by the man in purple robes.

—

The Heavens decided to smile on YoonBum when he saved the king’s life.

It was an accident, really. The guards felt no threat to the approaching figure in the form of a frail, old lady who was an assassin in disguise. YoonBum saw the knife before they did, jumping in front of Sangwoo.

Adrenaline in his system, Bum didn’t realize he was stabbed till he felt warmth seeping through his rags. Looking down, red spread around the area. It hurt. Badly. Bum’s legs felt like noodles; the little energy he had left his body as he collapsed onto the dirt. Even breathing was painful. His intervention set things in motion. One of the bodyguards chased down the assassin, two stood by Sangwoo and another leant down to help him. He must’ve asked something important but Bum couldn’t hear him clearly. It’s like he was submerged underwater. The last thing he saw before his vision turned black, was Sangwoo staring at him with interest.

He woke up in the nicest room he’s ever been.

The king didn’t visit him personally but he was sent a letter. Red overtook his face as he was forced to admit he didn’t know how to read. The servant relayed the contents, stating that when he was recovered, he would serve the king closely. From someone of his birth, it was the best he could get. YoonBum suddenly felt immensely grateful; he would no longer sleep in a shed with the pigs but a real mat! The pain on his side reminded him of the price he’d paid for this position, but he was used to being hurt. At least now it served to help him.

As the moment of glee passed, Bum realized he didn’t quite know the etiquette of serving the king. Joy left his body as he wondered how he would figure it out.

Like him, Sangwoo was plagued by this constant state of unhappiness. After the attempt on his life, he would think his subjects would be glad to see him breathing but instead he got murmurs of concern. What if he’d died? Who would’ve taken the throne since there was no heir? It would’ve thrown the palace into chaos.

Their silent pleas did not go unheard. “Maybe I should have them killed. Them and their entire families—” he paused when he saw you in the gardens, smiling at one of your ladies. His heart twisted. Sangwoo couldn’t explain it, but he always got the urge to inflict pain on you. He could say it stemmed from a place of resentment. How hard was it to get pregnant? If you gave him a son, he wouldn’t be pestered by these old fucks. Not to mention, your face contorting in distress was intoxicating—not even the concubines could compete with that.

Beneath his robes, his cock twitched with excitement. Oh, how he was going to enjoy this. Approaching your unsuspecting figure, he threw a dazzling smile to your courtesans. Sangwoo knew how to use his assets advantageously. Despite the suffering he caused, people were rendered speechless by his charm and good-looks.

He was like a snake, slithering towards his prey, waiting to attack. You did not hear him coming till you saw your ladies-in-waiting bowing. Greeting him appropriately, you expressed your relief. “Your Highness, I am glad to see you unharmed.”

It’d been a while since you last saw him; when he arrived, the rumour about the assassin spread like wildfire. “My Queen, you are truly a vision. These flowers have nothing on your beauty. You are proof that absence makes the heart grow fonder.” His honeyed words felt like prodding the bees’ nest. If you weren’t careful, you would be stung.

The only times he was this affectionate was when he wanted something. He played the same lovestruck role with your father to convince him of marrying you. Sending your ladies off, Sangwoo dropped his smile. His expression was replaced with desperation. Pulling on your wrist, the two of you traversed to your quarters since they were closer. “Ah!” Thrown harshly onto the bed, you hardly had time to compose yourself before he was mounting you. “Let’s put your cursed womb to good use.” A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you without warning. Your hands formed to fists, grabbing onto the sheets for dear life. It hurts, it hurts!

“Your Majesty! Please— aaah! Be more gentle..!”

Without seeing his face, you could already picture his cruel smirk. “You were born a disappointment. The least you could do is serve your purpose as my wife and bear me an heir.” His words angered you. Managing to twist away, you tried to escape his iron grip. This only resulted in you being pushed onto your back. Sangwoo pried your legs open and realigned himself.

Slap!

Sangwoo’s eyes widened with disbelief. The stinging in his cheek somehow made his pulse beat faster. Hands wrapping around your throat, he squeezed. “You should treat your king with more reverence. It would be a shame if the nation lost its queen. Especially one who can be easily replaced.” Having been the youngest war general, Sangwoo had strength to spare. Your hands seemed small as they banged on his form, silently begging to release you.

Having your life in his hands gave him the edge he needed to cum. With a low moan, Sangwoo emptied himself inside you. In turn, you couldn’t even focus on anything else other than breathing, choking as you gasped for air that you’d previously been deprived of. Knowing that he was capable of committing the worst, death seemed better than staying by his side.

“Perhaps I am not the problem, Your Majesty.”

Your voice was raspy but it rang clear across his majesty’s mind. Your words struck deep, like a knife embedded in his brain. It created a wound that would eventually fester. “Shut up.”

As if to disprove your point, he visited every concubine, not leaving until none of them were left untouched. He needed a son, one way or another, and if you wouldn’t give it to him, he would seek it elsewhere.

—

YoonBum was mostly healed; if anything, it appeared he’d been forgotten after a week of rest. The medic was currently tending to his wound, “It's healing nicely. A few more days and you should be out of here.”

The two of them turned at the sound of the door sliding open, immediately bowing at Her Highness’ entrance.

“Your Majesty, how can I be of use?” It was a bit surprising to see you there; your medical checkup wasn’t till another month. He wondered if you were feeling ill. Fabric wrapped around your neck; the weather was tepid, even inside the palace. That’s when he noticed the purple marks that peeked from under the material. Aware of his pointed stare, you moved the scarf upwards to conceal it. “I need you to acquire these medicinal herbs for me.” Taking the list, he read it carefully. How odd. Before he could ask what they were for, you added, “Your discretion would be appreciated.”

“Of course.”

Bum sat there silently, head facing the floor when you acknowledged him. “Are you the man that saved my husband?” Snapping upwards, he sputtered before letting out a quick “Yes!” Finally having a chance to gaze at your face, Bum felt himself turning red. Dressed in the finest silks from head to toe, standing with an air of regalness, was you. Unlike the king, there was warmth in you. Being in the presence of such a being felt unreal.

At first glance, the young man seemed no different than the other servants. However, his pink cheeks reminded you of innocence that one so rarely saw in the palace, which was filled with betrayal and resentment. His disposition was kind of endearing. You hoped he would remain like this, untainted by the world. “Then I must thank you.”

At your words, Bum’s figure lowered, forehead touching the wood. “Y-your Highness is too kind!” This position caused him a stab of discomfort, applying pressure to his wound yet he refused to straighten up. Noticing, you motioned at him, “Don’t force yourself.”

With that brief interaction, you were gone.

Entering your chambers, you signaled for the maid. Unwrapping the silk bandages, you stared at the mirror. Your husband’s marks served as a reminder of who held the power in this union. The young woman kneeled before you, taking a round brush and rolling it in powder. Although her ministrations were gentle, you couldn’t help but hiss when it applied pressure to your tender skin. “Forgive this servant, Your Majesty!”

“Don’t mind it. Continue.”

—

The king was anxious.

It was one thing for you to not get pregnant, but he’d been keeping busy and there was still no news of concubines with child. Reminded and bothered by your words, he summoned the royal physician. Sangwoo believed he wasn’t the problem, he just needed confirmation. What did you know? He wanted an expert to say that he was fulfilling his duties as king and it was everybody else that lacked.

“I’m sorry to say this, Your Highness.. but you’re infertile.”

With great effort, Sangwoo stopped himself from strangulating the doctor. It was impossible. A frown etched itself in Sangwoo’s face, his handsome features twisting into something scary. “You’re wrong.” It didn’t make sense; as a healthy male in his prime, Sangwoo shouldn’t have a problem fathering as many children as he could. There were several causes that may have caused his infertility, especially since he was a war general but the fact remained that he could not produce children.

Only an heir of royal blood could be king.

He forced the poor man to do every test available to ensure this. The result was the same. Again. And again. “You must not be doing your job right.” As the guards dragged the pleading man, a piece of paper fell from the medics’ robes during the struggle. Picking it up, Sangwoo recognized your handwriting.

“What’s this?”

There was temporary relief in the man’s face as Sangwoo stopped in front of him. “That.. the Queen requested a few me-medicinal herbs.” It didn’t sit right with Sangwoo. Why on earth would you need this shit? The physician seemed hesitant to answer his question. A rough push finally ushered him to say, “Alone these herbs are fine, but mixed..”

As requested, the herbs were delivered to you by the doctor’s assistant. The timing was perfect too. “Why didn’t your master deliver these himself?” Nervous, the boy stuttered a few excuses before asking for permission to leave. That should’ve raised flags in your head but you wanted the plan to work. You needed it to work.

The king had finally taken time out of his busy schedule to visit you, and not just to copulate. He was kind enough to accept your invitation to have a picnic at the pavilion. It was surrounded by a grand lake and vividly green trees; a true landscape.

Sangwoo arrived with a familiar man at his side. You realized you never asked for his name, though that was easily fixed when Sangwoo made a vague motion towards him. “That’s Bum.” He was dressed in green and Sangwoo in red. In comparison to their bright colors, you wore a soft pastel pink, denoting your sophisticated features.

Sitting down, you signaled the servant to begin pouring the soup. Sangwoo raised a brow, curious, “You’re not going to eat?” Listening to your response, a smile appeared on his face. “I wanted to make a special meal for Your Highness, from the bottom of my heart.” It was unnerving, the way he looked at you. Still, you never lost composure, waiting patiently for him. That is, until he asked Bum to lean down and try it. Obedient, the male did so without question. Eyes widening, you managed to stop Bum from tasting. Your hand held onto his wrist tightly—the spoon hovering centimeters from his lips. A few droplets spilled onto the wooden table. Sangwoo tilted his head to the side, innocent expression in tow. “Something wrong?”

Everything is wrong!

Sangwoo knew. You didn’t know how, but of this, you were sure. Fear is what he wanted and you weren’t going to give it to him. “This meat in this broth was especially prepared for His Royal Highness. It shouldn’t go to waste on someone else.” The tip of Bum’s ears burned from embarrassment. He was under the impression you were a benevolent queen; instead, he was reminded of his lowly status. Of course he couldn’t eat the expensive meat, a peasant like him wouldn’t know how to appreciate the flavor. The hurt on his face was evident but he turned to the king, awaiting further instructions. Sangwoo wasn’t fazed, “Don’t be silly.”

Taking the spoon, Sangwoo offered it to you.

You stared at it, unmoving. Sangwoo poked your lips, “Who else but the Queen would be worthy to try such delicacy?” He was baiting you, daring you to deny or confess. Neither was an option. Grabbing the spoon from him, you slowly opened your mouth and dropped the contents inside. Sangwoo’s eyes narrowed slightly but he said nothing. “Swallow.” Damn him to hell. Before you could do such a thing, a guard interrupted. Apparently there were news concerning Yang Seungbae, a traitor to the crown; he was spotted near a town on the outskirts of the forest.

Sangwoo hated him. More than anyone. That bastard was working hard to rally forces that would conspire against him. While things were peaceful at court, Sangwoo had felt a shift ever since the assassination attempt. His eye twitched in annoyance, though you weren’t entirely positive if it was because of Seungbae or the fact that he’d been interrupted. Sitting completely still, you watched as Sangwoo whispered to Bum before leaving. As soon as he was gone, you grabbed a handkerchief and spit out the soup. This action worries a few servants but you waved them off. “It’s cold.” They couldn’t understand as you ordered them to throw it, seeing as it was perfectly edible. Such a waste, disposing of such good meat.

Bum followed you like a lost puppy. The first night Sangwoo bedded him, YoonBum experienced true love. It wasn’t gentle; the king’s touch harbored no hatred but passion. Bum had never felt like that. It made him feel special; the ruler of the country placed his lips and strong hands on his skinny body. He had a queen, concubines, and still, he went to him. Elated couldn’t begin to describe how Bum felt. His feelings for his king were all-consuming. Since then, he’d made a promise to follow every order Sangwoo asked of him. Bum didn’t have anything against you, truly, but his loyalty laid with his king.

On their way back, they encountered Imperial Concubine Min Jieun. The crowd following her greeted you respectfully, and while she did so too, there was a triumphant smirk on her face. Nodding in acknowledgment, you continued walking, enjoying nature. The sun warmed your skin, making you forget about any worries, if only for a moment. Once the group was out of earshot, you glanced at your companion. “What was that about?” It was no secret how spoiled Min Jieun was; she was a woman of noble birth, groomed to perfection. That’s the facade she chose to wear instead of the power hungry bitch she was. Envy burned in every particle of her body. She wanted you out of the picture—she wanted to be queen and mother of Sangwoo’s children. Still, your position commanded respect. Your lady leaned in, whispering, “There’s rumors that she’s with child.”

“Oh.”

Bum watched your composed reaction with intrigue. He could understand if you held a grudge towards her. He did. You would always be first to the king, so he had to accept that. Bum knew it was the way things ran. However, he couldn’t say the same for the other concubines. They had the chance to bear Sangwoo’s child. Bum only wished he could do so too. Alas, this resentment made him feel guilty because the concubines were amicable women—well, except Min Jieun. He didn’t realize that they were shackled to this restrictive lifestyle; that they had no choice but to make the best of the situation.

“Is there something you want to say?”

Almost jumping at the sudden sound of your voice, Bum gazed around to see who you were talking to. Finding your clear eyes on him, he realized you’d seen through him. “Uh.. n-no, Your Majesty..”

“Say it.”

“How.. how does Your Majesty handle it?”

Though the question itself was vague, you got the gist. “Queens are expected to rise above such earthly emotions.” You had a solemn expression and the grip around your fan tightened, “Jealousy is futile.”

Nodding, Bum felt like he’d swallowed vinegar. This revelation left him in deep thought. Perhaps that was the difference between royals and peasants; possessiveness was quick to overtake him while you had to live with the knowledge that your husband would seek the company of others.

Hm, maybe he was right not to envy you.

—

“The Queen has fallen ill.”

It was so sudden; you were so healthy one day and the next, chills racked your body, fever uncontrollable. The court tried to be positive on the matter but it wasn’t looking good. Sangwoo was advised to refrain from visiting you—if he got sick too, it would affect the entire nation. “I will see my wife as I see fit.”

“Open the door and step aside.”

He was like an angel of death, entering with eerie calmness. Even through the soft curtains he could see your weakened form. You looked thinner, unable to eat. The physicians tried to get you to consume anything but it was just regurgitated in minutes.

The bed dipped under his weight as he sat next to you.

“Did you eat something bad?” He caressed your face, pushing hairs away that stuck due to the sweat. Fingers tightening on the blankets, you managed to open your mouth. “Congratulations.” Lips pale and cracked, you smiled sardonically. Sangwoo wasn’t expecting that reaction. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve heard news that Concubine Jieun is pregnant.”

A dark look crossed his face. “Is that so?” He stood, “Perhaps I should pay her a visit.” Though his tone was mocking, there was something bothering Sangwoo. Fortunately for the king, you were too woozy to think straight. Leaning down, Sangwoo placed a hand behind your neck, lifting you just a bit, enough to kiss your lips.

“Don’t die.”

#oh sangwoo #sangwoo x yoonbum #sangwoo x reader #sangwoo #yoonbum x you #yoonbum x y/n #yoonbum x reader #killing stalking yoonbum #killing stalking #ks yoonbum #ks sangwoo #yang seungbae #king x reader

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

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what a lovely dream it is

english major!wanda x english major!fem!reader

summary: who would have thought that wanda, the self proclaimed queen of reading science fiction, would be just as obsessed with shakespeare as you?

warnings: one use of the word “su*cide”. shakespeare. nerds quoting lines. bad writing. (i challenged myself into writing this in an hour and a half). cringey writing (there is a difference)

word count: 4k!

You and Wanda connected at first because you two spoke the same language from different regions. It felt like she spoke British English, and you spoke American English. You were on the same wavelength but not exactly the same individual wave, but it was as close as you had ever gotten with someone who you deemed worth your time.

While everyone else was partying or drinking until they threw up or flaunting around bags with white powder in them, you sat with your back to the wall after studying, reading a classic, knowing that the change of her leaning against the same wall and doing the exact same thing you were was high.

You met her in the library, on your third day at your university. You were trying to find your group of authors, your little nook where you would feel the safest in the entire school. You had stumbled right into the fantasy section, looked around for a second, and then tripped over a brown boot that was just at the start of the science fiction shelf.

“I’m so sorry,” a woman’s voice murmured, and you just shook your head and said that it was okay, much more interested in the way that your hands suffered from the fall on the carpet than the girl. Until you looked up.

It was everything about her that stunned you. The brown hair, the flush of her cheeks, the apologetic look in her pale blue eyes that caressed her features to sit in one beautiful and genuine expression. The moment your eyes landed on her, you swore that your heart stopped and started in the same second, and then took a run for it with all of the parts of your brain that you needed to make a coherent thought.

You promised yourself in that moment that you would never forget the way the woman in front of you looked. And despite seeing hundreds of more faces throughout your self-tour, you never truly did forget it. If you didn’t know any better, if you were perhaps any younger and less exposed to the cruelty of the world and fate and its way of not giving you what you wanted, you would have been certain that the universe had finally given you the contemporary meet cute that you yearned for.

But then, you saw which aisle she was in. You looked at the books and recognized the authors just to be sure, and then you turned to look at her. “You’re into science fiction?”

Her apologetic look fell completely into a look of pure surprise, and then excitement, almost as if she thought that she found someone else who liked the genre she did. “Well, it’s the best genre that was ever written.”

“Wow, how wrong,” you found yourself saying, and somehow, you knew that the look of offense on her face was all for fun. “It’s definitely gothic literature.” The look she gave you was one that you would never forget.

A week later, you ran into her in the cafeteria, holding a copy of The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, your beat up one from home that you would put your life on the line for. The cover was torn up a bit and the pages were dog eared, from a time where you hadn’t discovered the way that bookmarks changed lives. It was the copy your cousin got you, and it was your favorite gift to date.

She was holding The Martian Chronicles. You nearly gagged.

At first, you thought she hadn’t seen you, or hadn’t recognized you, which was even worse. You sighed under your breath and said, “at least it’s not Nineteen Eighty Four,” and watched in complete horror as she turned around.

She locked eyes with you immediately, and her own eyes widened when she saw you, and then she grinned when she undoubtedly recognized you and your disdain for science fiction. “No, it’s even better than Nineteen Eighty Four.”

“Anything is better than that,” you said, swallowing down your nerves at speaking to the girl again, kicking yourself for being so nervous despite not even knowing her name.

She gave you that same “offended” look she gave you during your first interaction, and you cracked a small smile. “Um, don’t you voluntarily go into the gothic section?”

The smile dropped. “The most valid section in the library? Sure do.”

She smiled too, a genuine grin as she took a step forward and extended her hand. For a second, you just looked at it, the calmness that came with the discussion of literature suddenly washed away so far back into your mind that you panicked for a moment, not reaching for her hand until you saw it shake in just the slightest, like she was regretting even doing it.

You nearly bumped your elbow on the table trying to stand up and shake her hand. Your hands connected and you grinned so wide it felt like your face had split open. You told her your name and she repeated it to make sure she had heard you loud and clear, and then, she smiled even brighter.

“Nice to meet you, Dracula. I’m Wanda.” And that was where it started.

As your library meetups started to become more intentional than not, you learned that not only was Wanda a student that stayed in the dorms, but the student who was next door to you. You learned that she pretty much kept to herself for the most part besides a few other people at the university, and that she kept a small circle. You learned that her favorite book was Brave New World. You learned that she would rather shy away from classic romance novels, even though you didn’t mind them, and that she hated gothic literature. You loved it. Your favorite book was The Picture of Dorian Gray, for god's sake. So, you hated each other’s favorite genres.

But you both loved symbolism. And you were both English majors. And for some very odd, very coincidental reason, you both met in what was nowhere near the middle- Shakespearean plays.

Now, that was something that you were always made fun of for as a child. No one wanted to hang out with the girl who quoted Shakespeare, especially if it wasn’t even from Romeo and Juliet. Reading normal books just made you look “smart”, but you knew that genuinely enjoying plays would make you look pretentious. So you had always kept it to yourself when you left your hometown. Until Wanda came along.

Wanda came along, and suddenly, you found yourself quoting tragedies and getting the correct response back. Sometimes, she would even start it first. You would do nerdy things like halfway reenact scenes because even you guys weren’t that nerdy… you supposed.

One morning, you and Wanda were in a study group (that was hardly productive because it was just Wanda’s little circle that was actually astoundingly close), and she looked over your shoulder to see your computer, where you were hardly typing an essay about the importance of the establishment of places for higher education. She put her chin against your shoulder, sat there for a minute, and then turned her head to whisper in your ear, “nothing will come of nothing.” It was embarrassing, the way your eyes lit up at hearing her voice, and even more so when Natasha, Wanda’s extremely perceptive friend, picked up on what you were feeling. The red head shot you the widest grin ever known to man.

“C’mere, Frankenstein,” Wanda said one night, already looking over at you while you tried to finish your work for the day.

You held back the smile on your face as you sat on your bed, one leg over it while you typed. “I’m right here.”

“No, here,” she emphasized, and then she was patting the spot on the small couch in your room, the same look in her eyes that always came with when she asked for any kind of physical contact.

That was by far the worst thing about Wanda, and it hardly had anything to do with her. She was touch starved, and touch was your love language. Her asking you to hold her on the couch used to mean nothing to you, because at one point, you just thought she was pretty. But now, holding her hand on top of the table while you both were submerged in your respective worlds felt like a promise ring. Letting her rest her head on your shoulder and in your neck felt like giving your vulnerability over to her, and feeling her hand rub against your back felt like she was taking it and guarding it. But you knew she didn’t feel the same way, not at all.

She was straight.

But it did you no good when she quoted back some of your favorite lines. It didn’t help when she said all of the romantic lines towards you at the drop of a hat, almost like she didn’t even realize what she was saying. She didn’t understand the way your heart died and was revived every time she said something like that, something that was so dear and vulnerable to you. And she certainly never would, because you would never tell her.

Now that you thought about it, allowing yourself to fall for her was the dumbest and most destructive thing you could have ever done. The first bookworm who didn’t make fun of you for your knowledge and love of old plays was the one that took hold of your heart, and now you were paying for being such an idiot. Now you would have to sit through three more years of school with her being your friend, just your friend, while you pined over her. It was going to be hell.

And was it. You had to sit through her saying the most romantic of Shakespearean quotes every day and act like she wasn’t making your heart shake. You had to listen to her speaking the language that you two shared and pretend that you just wanted to be her friend. You were so attached to her and everything that you two had established together, and you couldn’t ruin it by giving her googly eyes. She was way too important for that. Because now, she was way more than a person who you could talk to about old plays. She was the person that you could talk to about anything, without a doubt. Anything but the intense crush that you were harboring for her, and the way that she made your heart sing and your soul ascend whenever you smelled her perfume or saw her smile. Anything but that.

§§

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” You looked up from your book only to see Wanda looking over at you, lying down on the blanket and just watching you. You swore later on when you were alone that you imagined it, but for a moment you could have sworn that you saw a flash of adoration in her eyes. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate.”

You were choking on the inside. Your face was blank, but your mind was going haywire, and you couldn't think of anhytnign besides holding back the urge to say something that you had no chance of taking back. “You’re in a sonnet mood today, aren’t you?”

“And what mood are you in today, Jekyll?”

“I’m in the mood to finish this book,” you teased, and she rolled her eyes.

“What if I’m in the mood to sit and watch a movie?”

“Then you should do it,” you said, going the way your heart clenched at the thought of her cutting your friendly outing short. “I’ll follow you in an hour or two.”

She gave you a look. “You know I don’t go anywhere without you.”

“You can go watch a movie, Wands.” You sighed out, closing your book and wedging your pointer finger between the pages so that you wouldn't get lost.

“I’ll wait,” she said, and you shook your head at her.

“I don’t want to hold you back from getting in time with your favorite sci fi movies.”

“Can I go forward when my heart is here?”

You were hit with such a wave of longing that you had to shut your eyes for a moment, but it looked like it was simply a long blink. “You’re so cheesy.”

“I want to hear one,” Wanda said, leaning on her elbows as she stared up at you, and your heart pounded. She looked celestial, glowing under the sunlight with growing grass around her and a sweet smile budding on her face. “You never quote any back to me anymore, you know?”

You knew, for sure. It was on purpose that you didn’t quote back. If you were to continue the conversation in romantic quotes, it was going to feel way too real to you. You could handle Wanda and her touches, but you were not going to be able to handle quoting Romeo and Juliet to her. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled softly, and then you heard her make a sound with her tongue, a displeased clicking noise.

You looked up at her and lost your breath again, and your mental footing. There she was, looking up at you with her pretty eyes, giving you a look more intense than she had ever given you before. She was… it was almost like she was waiting for something, like she knew something. She was staring up at you and leaning on her hand in a way that was so oddly domestic in your mind, and you could almost see in your mind the way that she would do that if you woke up in the same bed, like she was waiting for you to wake up and trying to memorize your face. It made you warm on the inside, and just like she always managed to do, your brain turned to mush.

“Conscience doth make cowards of us all,” you blurt, and you saw her brows pull in for a second. You blinked.

“Huh?”

You were panicking on the inside. There were plenty of ways that she could have taken the quote that you had chosen, but you knew exactly what it sounded like. A half assed love confession. “You know, from Hamlet,”

“Of course I know it’s from Hamlet, Jekyll.” She shook her head at you and sat up, crossing her legs without breaking eye contact. “But why that quote? You know so many, and you chose the one about death.”

Unfortunately, it’s death by silence in this context, not by swords. “You said you wanted to hear a line,” you said, shrugging as you opened your book, trying to get rid of the embarrassment that you knew would stick to you for hours and hours.

“What a line,” she said, and then she rolled over to look up at the sky. Minutes later, you heard her sigh. “What a line.”

§§

Romeo + Juliet was a classic for your movie night. At first, Wanda showed it to you after you boycotted it for years, despite your male celebrity crush being one of the main characters in it. You had always avoided watching because of the modernism, but one Wanda made you sit down and watch it, you actually found good things about it. For instance, the party scene.

“It was done wonderfully,” Wanda would always say from beside you after your extremely predictable comment of the scene being a masterpiece.

Like always, there were a few moments of silence as you two watched the movie together, shoulder to shoulder on the small couch in your dorm while your roommate was off getting high. You watched the rest of it in near silence, halfway focused on the movie while the other part of your mind was split in two; feeling blessed that Wanda was even there with you, soclose, and feeling cursed that she was so close but so far. It was the perfect moment to hold her close like you wanted to so badly, but the timing wasn’t right. And that killed you.

“Do you ever think about how they fell in love so fast?” Wanda asked, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’d say that they were encroaching on soulmate territory.”

“Soulmates, or foolish teenagers?”

“I hardly know of any teenagers who would die for each other, even if they thought they were in love,” Wanda pointed out, and you rolled your eyes at her. “Don’t give me that face. I’m right, and you know it.”

“I’ll always let you believe it, sci fi.”

“But, really, don’t you ever want something like that?”

You turned your face from the screen and looked at her incredulously, like she had gone mad while completing the process of growing three heads. “A suicide pact?”

She groaned and threw her head back. “No. A love like that. Take away the death and violence, and look at what they had.”

“It bloomed too quickly to have much potential later in life,” you countered. “That was infatuation, and that never lasts long.”

“You think that they both died for infatuation?”

“I think that they were young, and it’s hard to tell the difference between love and infatuation at any age, let alone as a teenager. I think they thought they loved each other to the ends of the earth, but I guess they’ll never know.”

“You’re so cynical. Just like a person whose favorite is gothic literature.” You laughed, leaning forward towards her without even noticing what you were doing. “Do you believe in love?”

“Of course I do,” you answered, giving her a look. “I’m just saying, Romeo and Juliet were not in true love. They were confused.”

Then, the playful air that the conversation was flowing on changed so quickly that you nearly got whiplash and your heart started racing. The way Wanda was looking at you sent a chill down your spine, and in that moment, you were worried. “Are you confused?”

You took in a breath. “About what?”

“About anything,” she said slowly, almost like she felt like she was walking on thin ice with skates on. “Books, people, love, food, sexuality,” she ignored the way that you choked, “writing a paper, how to get a strike in bowling. Or how to realize that Romeo and Juliet were definitely in love.”

“You’re so intent on proving that they were to me,” you said, a laugh bubbling over and into your words. “Why are you suddenly so passionate about them now?”

“The sight of lovers feedeth those in love.”

Your heart jumped out of your chest again, and your hands clenched into weak fists as you tried to will yourself into not assuming that she was talking about you. And then, white hot panic struck you at the thought of her being in love with someone else. “Speak low if you speak of love.”

“Why should I?” Wands asked, shifting from her position on the couch to put a hand under her chin and watch you, her kind eyes afire with something that you had yet to see in them yet. “Really, Jekyll. Why?”

You hardly waited a full second before responding as truthfully as you ever would. “I’m afraid.” Before she could get a word in, you shook your head and finally loosened your lips, letting all of your worries and fears slide right through your teeth. “I’m afraid that I’ve fallen in love with someone who can never love me back. I’m scared to admit that I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I’m afraid that you aren’t into girls.” You saw her make a face, almost like she couldn't believe that you were even suggesting the things that you were. “I don’t quote Shakespeare to you anymore because it feels too real to have you say lines like that back to me. I think that I’ve latched onto you without even meaning to, and now I don’t know if I can ever let you go.”

Wanda was silent. She was watching you, as quietly as the sun hovered over the earth while she shone her light. Your heart had never beat so fast before as you watched her watch you with a face so blank that you were sure that she hadn’t retained a damn thing that you pulled from the depths of your heart. Then, the daunting thought that she had heard and understood everything but chose not to act swallowed you whole, and your hands started to shake. You gave a humorless laugh and finally looked away from the woman who had raised your spirits and crushed them all within five minutes. “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”

“I’m so sorry.” You repeated, shaking your head and closing your eyes for a second as hot tears burned in them. When they opened, a fat tear sappetered onto your hand. I’m such an idiot. You looked to the screen, and then saw Romeo screaming, on the ground, and you could hear the words even though your ears were rushing with blood. I defy you, stars. “You don't have to say anything back, I know you don’t feel the same.” Your eyes pulled away from the screen. “I can leave- wait, um, this is my dorm. I-”

“Doubt thou the stars are fire,” Wanda started slowly, and your brows furrowed as you heard the words fall from her lips. Fuck. You knew what this ended with, and still, you couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love.”

Your eyes were wide by the end of it, watery and fixed on her. “W-what?”

“How could you not have known?” Wanda asked softly, and you but your lip to stop from bursting into tears.

“I thought you were straight!” You accused, and to your surprise, she laughed.

“No, sweetheart.” Your heart stuttered. “I’m not.”

Your breathing was still slightly heavy as you tried to get a grip on everything that was happening. “You… you feel the same way?”

“Of course I do, Jekyll.” She said, and you found yourself falling for her expressive eyes all over again as she stared up at you. You reached your hand out experimentally, like she did the second time you ever met, and you waited that torturous moment for her to take your hand in a way that was much different than all the other times you shared a touch. This touch was the moment of truth.

She took your hand, kissed your knuckles, and put your palm on her cheek.

“The very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly to your service.”

“This can’t be anything but a dream,” you murmured, feeling her cheek in your hand and the way they were warm and flushed. The softness was bringing you in and out of your head, and every time you went back to reality, you were thrusted into a little sliver of paradise.

“Well, what a lovely dream it is, then.” Her lips found yours. The movie played on, the clock kept its incessant ticking, and your leg was starting to tingle from sitting on it in the same position for so long. But to you, time absolutely stopped. And as long as a particular science fiction nerd was in front of you, nothing that ticked or clicked or buzzed was ever going to matter.

*******

i said i wasn’t going to post this, but i did it anyway!! hope you guys enjoyed this fic!! it was a lot of fun to write but it also made me mad nervous LMAO let’s hope this wasn’t absolute dogshit

@teenwonder i know you said you wanted a tag on my stuff so here it is, love!! 💕💕

#marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #my fics #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #lgbt marvel #english major!wanda

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sevendeadlymorons · 3 years

Note

When your requests are open again could you possibly do a scenario on how the brothers would react to an mc who cuts themself... if not I understand, thank you either way, love your content!

I saw this come up and I just had to do this one straight away as it hits close to home for me. Thank you for the request, I hope you’re doing ok

Brothers Reaction to MC Who Harms Themself

WARNING: NSFW // Mentions of self harm, blood and sharp objects !

—————————————————

Lucifer

Was about to knock on your door to deliver your missed RAD work, when he heard a silent gasp and cry come from inside. He listens in as the sound continues. He opens the door to ask if you were alright, but when he saw you pressing a blade to your wrist, he drops everything he was holding onto the floor, and all that was on his mind in that moment of time was taking the blade away from you. He runs full charge at you, taking the blade away from you as you collapse in his arms, sobbing. Hearing the pain in your voice as you scream out to him, begging him to give you the blade back was the most traumatising thing he’s ever heard, and it will live on with him forever.

Shushes you and strokes your hair, trying to comprehend what just happened, completely forgetting about your mutilated wrist until he feels fresh blood trickle down onto his skin from your fresh wound. He panics and runs out the room, taking the blade with him, throwing it in the bin in disgust, before grabbing some disinfectant and bandages, rushing back over to you to wipe your wounds, telling you that you’re doing great when you suck air through your teeth in pain. He carefully wraps up your wrist, making sure to not hurt you or tie it too tight.

After he’d wrapped you up and disinfected your wounds, he’d held your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb and staring into your dull eyes, giving you a small smile as you fake one back, his heart dropping to his stomach at your state. He holds you in a tight hug and promised you he’d never let you be hurt again, because it kills him to see you in pain.

Mammon

He doesn’t knock, but for once, he wished he did as he stared you in the eye, watching blood trickle down your arm in horror as you held scissors in your other hand. He stood there for a few seconds, in shock, before reality kicked in and he was running to your side, snatching the scissors from your grip and catching you as your knees buckle. He’s never seen you look so lifeless. Your eyes were dull and there wasn’t even the faintest sign of a smile on your lips, the one he can’t wait to see every morning. That smile was gone. He held you so tight as you cried into his shirt, screaming his name into his chest and shaking. He feels physically sick seeing you like this. This isn’t the MC he knows...

He felt something wet drip onto his arm and when he looked down to find your arm slit, oozing blood, he panicked and pulled you to the bathroom, unthinkingly running your arm under warm water but regretting it when he saw your face wince in pain. He didn’t know what to do for you. He just wanted to make you feel better. He looked around in the cabinets and grabbed some loose bandages he luckily found, messily wrapping your arm up in the fabrics, not tying it too tight so that it doesn’t hurt you.

Sat you down on the bed, and held your hand, tears forming in his eyes as he stares into yours, and watches you try your best at flashing him a sweet, small smile. He hugs you tightly, rubbing your back and rocking you, telling himself he won’t ever let that happen again for as long as he lives.

Leviathan

Anime night, Levi had been looking forward to it all week, but when he flung the door open and caught eyes with a blade pressed to your thigh, he stopped. He dropped everything he had and just stared at it. Horror in his eyes as his mouth trembled. He was in shock, he had no idea what to do as he stared at that sharp object between your fingers. So he did all he knew to do; rushed straight towards you, snatching the blade and throwing it across the room, his arms wrapped around you as he cries silently into your stomach, feeling you sob onto his head as well. He felt you shake in his arms so he rubbed your back, and went to hug you, putting his head in the crook of your neck.

So much had happened in the space of only a few minutes that he didn’t even realise the blood that was staining his clothes from your wounds. He looked all around the room for something to stop the bleeding, searching in your bathroom for bandages, where he luckily found a strip laying in the cabinet. He rushes back in and start to desperately wrap up your leg, his cheeks flushing red as he realised he was touching your thigh, but that wasn’t important right now. Right now, all he cared about was you

After he’d finished, he apologised for barging in and messily wrapping up your cuts, but you didn’t say anything. You was staring at your leg and Levi felt his heart break as the thought that he didn’t notice something was wrong wracked his brain. He held your head to his chest and squeezed you tightly. He will never let you go through this alone again, he refuses to let you suffer alone.

Satan

He occasionally just walks into your room and sits down next to you, whipping out a book and just enjoying your company. Today was one of those days, but when he walked in and didn’t see you, he decided to just come back later. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a pained gasp coming from the bathroom though. He walked towards the room and the door was slightly ajar. He pressed his ear to the door and heard you sobbing. He rushed in but the sight he saw, left him in complete shock. He couldn’t move as he stared down at you, a single blade clutched in your fingers, blood surrounding you on the bathroom floor as it was spilling out of your cuts. He felt himself trembling as he could practically feel his heart spilt in two at the sight of your face, so visibly broken. He dashed towards you, cradling you in his arms and asking you to give him the blade until you finally placed it in his palm and he threw it in the bin in anger. How couldn’t he have noticed, he was so annoyed with himself as he could feel your pain while you quivered in his embrace.

He composed himself and grabbed your face to look at you, wiping away your stray tears with his thumb as he then proceeded to examine your mutilated forearms. He couldn’t help but tear up as he felt your arm shake, looking you in your eyes and desperately asking why, over and over again. He shook his head, realising it wasn’t the time, and stood up to grab the bandages and disinfectant from in the cabinet, coming back to your level to clean the wound and wrap up your arm, giving it several kisses after he’d done.

He apologises for his abrupt entrance but reminds you that you should have told him you felt this way and he would have helped. When your face remained blank he wrapped you into a hug so tight, he could feel your pounding heartbeat. His heart hurt, the image of you on the floor still stuck in his head. He never wants to see you in that state again. He will protect you with his life from now on.

Asmodeus

Ran into your room to ask you what colour he should paint his nails for the party he’s going to soon, but when he got there and you were sat with your knees to your chest on the floor, your entire thigh covered in drastically bleeding cuts right next to a large box cutter, he choked on his words, in disbelief as blood ran down your leg. He almost screamed and scurried to your side, throwing the blood stained knife to the side and stroking the back of your hand as he watched you break down. He pulls your head slowly into his shoulder and let you cry, his hand running up and down your back as he felt himself shaking when he stared at your soon to be scarred thigh. He pulls you close to him as he felt tears threatening to escape too, his eyes quickly tearing up at the thought of you being so miserable and he never noticed before. He thought he knew you so well.

Quickly got to his feet and brought back disinfectant and a bandage from your cabinet, taking a quick glance at your dull face, your eyes puffy from crying. He knelt down and straightened out your leg, wiping your wounds with disinfectant, making sure to be gentle. He hated to hear you in so much pain as you gasped and winced from the disinfectant entering your open cuts. He shushed you and apologises quickly, then went to litter your entire leg in kisses, giving a reason why he loves you for each cut you made that day.

He didn’t care how messy he got when he wrapped up your thigh, his hands now stained in your dry blood. All he cared about was you and your well being. If he knew, he would have stopped you and prevented all this pain from happening, but he didn’t know, and that obviously fake smile you’ve been forcing since he met you was becoming clearly obvious to him now as he eyed your exhausted eyes and pale skin, a constant frown plastered on your lips. He promises to you, he will keep you safe. Nothing will hurt you when he’s around, not even yourself. He doesn’t want to see any more scars on your pretty skin.

Beelzebub

Went downstairs for a midnight snack, like he usually does, but when he went past the knives, he noticed one of them were missing. Didn’t take any notice and went back upstairs to eat in his room. When he went past your door though, he heard a stifled sob and heavily breathing. He walked in to ask you what’s wrong and give you a hug but when he saw you on the floor with your head against the bed, your arms visible with several deep cuts, seeping blood, he froze and couldn’t take his eyes off your arms. He dragged his eyes away to see the missing knife next to you drenched in your blood. His breathing hitched and he shook, all he could do in that moment was mouth your name. But suddenly, his legs moved on their own and before he knew it, he was at your side, kicking the mnife away with his foot and hugging you to his chest, your tears staining his shirt as he pulled you closer into him.

His eyes never once left your arms, watching the blood trickle out and he felt so so scared of losing you. He grabbed your wrist and got up and rushed you to your bathroom, grabbing some bandages and running your arms under the tap, feeling bad when you wince in pain. He dried your arms off as gently as he could and wrapped the bandage around your arms slowly, keeping his eyes drawn to your face to see if he was hurting you. He held your wrapped arm in his hands for a while, peering down at it, still visible shook up.

He wrapped you in a blanket and rocked you in his arms for the rest of the night, listening to you cry silently and letting you use his shoulder to cry onto. He reminded you that you’ll be alright and he thought to him how he will never let this happen again, he will make sure you feel happy in his company and embrace. He’s never leaving you alone.

Belphegor

Noticed you were no longer by his side in bed anymore and sleepily went around the room to look for you, his eyes half open and drooping. He saw the bathroom light was on though the crack in the door, so he pushed open the door and half unconsciously reached around for your arm to pull you back in to bed. When he grabbed your arm, he heard you cry out in pain and his eyes shot open, scared he’d hurt you again. His hands felt sticky and when he looked down at them, they were covered in blood. His heart beat was racing as he thought he’d hurt you, but when he panicked and looked down to apologise, he saw you holding a pocket knife in your other hand and the blood that was stained onto his hands was from your arm, littered in long deep bloody cuts. His breathing became unsteady as he thought back to the last time he saw you bleeding, it was because of him. He dropped to his knees and crawled over to you, blood from the floor covering his clothes and palms, but he didn’t care as he reached out to touch your face, distress in both your eyes. He looked at the knife in disgust and hatred, kicking it across the room and hearing it hit the wall. He felt your arm and examined it, desperate to fix this.

He scrambled up to his feet to wet a damp rag and place it over your arm, gently wiping away the blood, stopping and asking you if it hurts when you made a pained face. He grabbed the bandages and quickly wrapped you up, making sure you aren’t in pain again. Then he grabbed at you, pulling you into his chest and squeezing you urgently. Listening to your loud muffled sobs as you cried into his skin. His heart hurt remembering the sight and he no longer felt tired anymore. He felt sick and worried.

He sat there for a good couple hours, on the bathroom floor, holding you in his embrace and shushing you, your tears dried onto his clothes and leaving a musky smell. How didn’t he notice. He spends every night with you. Have you been doing this right next door every night when he was asleep? He hates the thought and swears to protect you every second he can. He doesn’t care how much sleep he loses, as long as you’re ok, that’s all that matters to him.

DM’s are always open if anyone ever needs someone to talk or vent to. I know the feeling of thinking you have to harm yourself to feel better, but it’s not the only solution. Whoever you are, I love you and stay safe x

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me belphie #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #mental health

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

Note

Red of Overly Sarcastic Productions once said :"If you can imagine your Batman comforting a shared child, then congratulations, you're righting Batman. If not, you're just writing the Punisher in a funny hat". This got me wondering: could the Shadow comfort a scared child?

Could he? You forget who was there to lift young Bruce to his feet at his first brush with death (sadly far from his last).

But it's an interesting question to pose still, because children were straight up not in the pulps, not in any I've read, and I can't recall any episodes of the radio show that feature them much (there's gotta be at least a few, because they had everything in that show). The most interaction I think The Shadow's ever had with children (from comics that I can discuss here, because Marshall Rogers' "Harold Goes to Washington" is way, way too much for me to go into right now, and the less I talk about some other DC comics, the better) is in the Street & Smith comics.

There's Jerry from the Devil Kyoti arc, a kid who was traumatized by an encounter with the villain who Sayre's looking after and who ends up having some kind of hidden power that allows him to see The Shadow and defeat the villain. There was a blonde Jerry who showed up later in the Monstradamus arc, but he isn't a kid so much as he's diet Jimmy Olsen or a replacement for Harry, but he had weird eyesight-based powers and a familiarity with The Shadow, so I assume it's the same character.

There was also Donald Jordan - Shadow Jr, and okay, I may have to talk more about this weird little failed experiment some other time, but the basic gist of it is that The Shadow had a friend in Tibet named Harry Jordan (and someday I'm also gonna write about the weird prevalence and significance of the name "Harry" in The Shadow's mythos in and out of universe) who was murdered, leaving his son orphaned and with nowhere to go. And, I'll admit that I have a real weakness for The Shadow calling people "son", which he does a lot in this story.

And as you can expect, it then turns out that the kid's also learned how to cloud minds and has basically the same powers The Shadow has in these comics, and they solve the mystery of his dad's murder together, and yeah, you can absolutely tell that they are setting up this kid to be The Shadow's Robin. Although, interestingly, they don't have The Shadow actually recruit the kid, instead it's Jordan who asks The Shadow if he can go with him and join his mission, and Cranston even states he's going to have to "earn" his way

"Must I stay here, sir? It will always remind me of dad - I'd like to devote my life to your fight against evil and evil doers!

Now, "Shadow Jr's" career was incredibly short-lived, it only lasted for about two other issues, and I have no idea what happened in his final appearence called "Snake Eyes" in Shadow Comics #77, I cannot find that issue anywhere and I really want to. But the one other solo story of his I've read was...well, I think it kinda illustrates why the idea of The Shadow having a Robin was doomed from the start.

...Yeah. Even The Shadow at his most sanitized and family friendly is still The Shadow, and there's no room for children in his network, obviously he shouldn't and wouldn't have children be in those positions or make decisions expected from grown-ups who have already had encounters with death and danger, why would anyone do that-

The only instance I can think of The Shadow interacting with a child in the pulps was during The Prince of Evil, when he has to rescue a young boy from Stark's thugs.

Cranston, dazed, tried to stagger to his feet. Before he could do so, the thug had picked up the limp figure of the boy and was darting out into the street. There was a scream of horror from pedestrians.

A heavy truck was racing at top speed along the avenue. Straight into the path of the truck, the thug threw the senseless boy!

The driver of the truck jammed on the brakes. But it was too late to halt the heavy vehicle. The broad-tired wheels rolled toward the limp head of the lad on the pavement.

An instant before it could crush out his life, Lamont Cranston dived headlong into the path of destruction. His shoulder struck the boy, rolling him toward the curb. A quick wriggle, and Cranston swerved aside from the grinding death that loomed over him.

He picked up the boy. One glance and he knew there was no time to lose. The attempted killer had leaped into a waiting sedan and had already made his escape.

The boy was all Cranston could see or think about. Brass knuckles had fractured his skull. He had suffered a concussion of the brain. A glance at his bluish lips and the fixed glaze of his staring eyes told Cranston that unless the boy was operated on immediately, he would die.

A leap, Cranston was in his car. He laid the boy gently on the seat beside him, then headed the car toward the nearest hospital. Traffic lights were ignored.

The boy was taken to an emergency operating room and a skilled surgeon went to work. When it was over, Cranston asked only one question: "Will the child live?"

"Hard to say. We'll do our best."

"Spare no expense. Put him in a private room. Engage day and night nurses."

Cranston's face was pale. He knew that he himself was indirectly responsible for the boy's attack. A supercriminal had made a prompt answer to Cranston's message over Jackson's telephone. That telephone must have been tapped. The attempt to kill the boy was a vicious warning for Lamont Cranston to mind his own business about the Harmon family. It was a follow-up of the attack on Jackson's dog.

Cranston felt a surge of hot anger. He kept it under control while he answered routine police questions. He told all he knew - which was nothing.

He had only one angry thought. He intended to drive straight to the office of David Chester. He'd get the truth out of the sleek Chester, if he had to batter him with vengeful fists!

Cranston was actually halfway to Chester's office before common sense returned to him. He realized he had lost his sense of balance. He was behaving exactly as the crooks wanted. He was playing their game, not his!

He parked, and the hot rage drained slowly from him. He stopped thinking about the limp figure of a young lad on a white operating table.

This is definitely because Tinsley writes the character differently than Gibson, but I actually cannot think of another occasion where we got to read about The Shadow actively wanting to hit someone with his fists. It's very, very rare to read about The Shadow actually getting mad in the first place in such an undignified way. And I think with this passage, you'll start to notice a pattern.

The problem isn't that The Shadow cannot interact with kids or that he can't comfort them, he does it to his agents and adults he wants to help just fine, he knows how to address people in their language, or any language. The problem is, The Shadow is constantly surrounded by danger everywhere he goes, because he is The Shadow. He can be any number of things at any number of occasions, but usually, when The Shadow shows up, it's usually because people are going to die, and people are going to kill, and it's his job to address that and work the scales.

Children should not be anywhere near this, and if The Shadow's interacting with a child, it usually means that some grave danger or tragedy fell upon them, and he's here to either prevent greater tragedy or address the fall-out, and he'd be the first to agree that neither of these options should be happening at all. It doesn't mean he's not gonna do what's right and give life and limb to protect them, but, it shouldn't be up to the Boogeyman to look after them in the first place. Maybe it shouldn't be up to the Boogeyman to protect us.

But then again, as I mentioned when I talked about my own reasons for liking The Shadow so much, there are many kids who would like nothing more than to have the Boogeyman by their side to protect them. There's comfort in knowing that the scariest man in the room is unconditionally there to protect you, and that is the comfort that The Shadow gives best. Not as Cranston, not under a friendly face, but as what he is.

Due to a lack of scenes from the pulps or satisfying scenes from elsewhere, I will instead be pulling one from a fan story written by Kimberly-Murphy Smith, editor and writer of The Hot Cornerm where The Shadow rescues a child who was kidnapped for blackmail. I couldn't care less that it's fanfic, and if you do, come back in 20 or so years after The Shadow's been made public domain and it's gonna be just as official as anything licensed (on my “to write about” list: how fickle the separation between “official” and “fanfic” is, and the many times it plainly didn’t exist). There’s aspects of her writing I don’t care for, but I really like this scene and I do think The Shadow’s more gentle interactions with people are necessary to getting the character.

Annabelle.

She stopped crying for a minute. "Who's there?" she said, her voice choked.

A friend. Your mommy and daddy sent me to pick you up.

"Mommy? Mommy's here?"

Sh-h-h. Annabelle felt a gloved hand gently stroking her hair. She's waiting for you at home. So, we need to hurry up and leave.

"'kay." She looked around. "Where are you?"

It's kind of hard to see me. It's dark in here, plus you've been crying so much your eyes probably hurt.

"Yeah."

Don't be afraid. I'm here to help.

"'kay."

The implicit trust of children was simply amazing at times. Adults trembled in fear of The Shadow's wrath, but children somehow seemed to understand that he was there to help them, even if they couldn't see him.

Sit up, Annabelle. I'm going to pick you up. Be very quiet.

One hand took each of her arms and guided them around a neck she could not see. "Why are you wearin' a blanket?" she asked as the fabric of his cloak brushed against her shoulders.

Sometimes I get cold at night.

"Even in the summer?"

Even in the summer. He gently stroked her cheek and wiped away her tears. Now, you need to be very quiet so those bad men in the next room don't hear us. I'll bet you're tired.

She nodded.

He rocked her on his arms, projecting a very gentle hypnotic relaxation into her with his powers as he did. You probably didn't get your nap, either. Poor thing. Lean on my shoulder and go to sleep. And when you wake up, you'll be back with Mommy and Daddy.

She yawned, then snuggled against his shoulder and went to sleep.

The Shadow sighed with relief. Now to get past the men out front. He gently pulled the pistol out of its holster under his left arm and slipped it into the belted waist of his overcoat within easy reach, then secured his grip on Annabelle and draped his cloak over her.

She clutched the edge of his cloak in her hand like a security blanket and snuggled against his shoulder again.

(Art by Jill Thompson)

#replies tag #the shadow #pulp heroes #fanfic #I think about the -Sometimes I get cold at night- response a lot #and how superhero capes can easily be likened to oversized blankets #and The Shadow is one of the main reasons why capes became so popular among American heroes #seriously you can see how practically overnight so many heroes at the time imitating The Shadow acquired capes #and what is a hero if not a childhood fantasy manifest #they are all just wearing blankets to battle #I think my posts are turning into too much of rollercoasters

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xbunnybunz · 3 years

Text

WEAK HERO UNIVERSITY (3/?) [READER X WEAK HERO]

Summary: I know you assholes are crying now that the first season of Weak Hero is over. But you’ve got other things to focus on, like where the fuck you’re going to live after getting kicked out of your old dorm. Luckily, you’ve found one last open room on the other side of Weak Hero University. What could possibly go wrong?

Genre: Romance, Humor, Slice of Life

Date: 7/12/2021

You’re dully unaware of how many people are allowed into a cramped dorm room before it becomes a fire hazard, but you are almost completely sure that the rule has now been broken.

Gray pushes through the mass of bodies wedging themselves between your bed and the desk, a damp, cold rag in his hands.

“Let me see.”

You grit your teeth and stare up at the ceiling, holding back the urge to toss yourself out the window. Of course this would happen, you don’t even know why you’re surprised! It was just your luck to completely obliterate your toe in front of cute guys you had just met.

You reach down towards your sock and then freeze, eyeing them wearily.

“Wait… You guys aren’t like, feet people… Right?”

Eugene furrowed his eyebrows and looked to everyone else. “What do you mean? We all have feet.”

Gerard made a face, or well—as much as a face as you can see, and you fluster, immediately regretting asking the question.

“Shit. Never mind. That was a stupid question, just pretend I didn’t say anything.” What? No one can blame you, too many years on deviantart would make anyone paranoid!

You hook your fingers onto the elastic of the sock and pull it off your right foot.

The moment your sock comes off, both Ben and Alex rattle your eardrums with a shriek. Alex covers his eyes and Ben dramatically falls onto his knees beside the bed.

“The whole thing is purple, Ben, you dumbass!” Alex cried, peeking out from between his fingers. “She’s going to need to amputate her toes!”

Ben clasped his hands together in front of you, bowing his head to the floor. “I’m so sorry! I’m terrible! I’ll take full responsibility! I’ll even give you my toes!”

“Uhm, you guys—” Eugene lifts a shaky finger but is interrupted by the earth-shattering slap Alex lands on the back of Ben’s head, eyes teary with emotion, “Dammit Ben, no one would want your big ugly goblin toes!”

Absolutely flabbergasted at their reactions, you flinch back, eyes wide as Ben clasped both his large hands over yours, bottom lip quivering.

“Please forgive me (Y/N)! You’re too pretty to be missing toes!”

What the fuck does that even mean?!

Mind working in overdrive and face burning hot, you swallow and try to stutter out an explanation, nearly going cross-eyed at the insane amount of pressure suddenly thrust upon you. Did Alex just give Ben brain damage? Did Ben just call you pretty? Were those two things related? What the hell was going on!?

Gray pulls a sobbing Ben off of you, lips pressed into a thin line.

“You two are freaking her out. You need to calm down.”

“But—!” Ben starts, voice trembling, “Her toes! I crushed her—!”

Gerard sighs, turning his face away from the scene, clearly too tall and cool and in need of a haircut to be suffering from secondhand embarrassment. “You guys… That’s just nail polish.”

Ben turns to Eugene for confirmation and Eugene rubs the back of head sheepishly, an awkward smile plastered on his face. “I tried to tell you guys.”

Alex approaches Grey, peeking over his shoulder and almost sounding a bit disappointed. “Wait, so… We don’t need to call an ambulance?”

Grey shakes his head, no. His pale hair catches the light and you suddenly notice how incredibly pretty he is. “It won’t be necessary. But we still might need to speak to the Hall Assistant…”

A slender hand reaches up and delicately turns your foot towards him, revealing a nasty reddish-purple bruise forming just under the ball of your feet.

The group behind Gray cringes back simultaneously.

Alex lets out a low whistle, clicking his tongue. “That one’s gonna be hard to walk on, (Y/N).”

Eugene sighs, eyebrows knitting together. “Yeah, last time I got something that bad, I needed to use a wheelchair for a week.”

“Dude, wasn’t the wheelchair because Teddy accidentally threw a coke bottle at your crotch?” Alex asks.

Eugene turns to him sharply, whispering something reminiscent of “girls” and “not now” while gesturing to you avidly.

“We’re going to need to get ice.” Grey says, ignoring the arguing in the back.

He lowers the damp rag onto your foot. You wince and flex all the muscles in your leg, trying not to contort your feet in pain. Lavender eyes meet yours and you begin to wonder if you had misjudged him for side eyeing your ziplock baggie of waterlogged notes. “How are you feeling?”

Well, to be honest you were feeling pretty damn good right now. You’ve never had so many attractive guys paying attention to you at once, even if it was because of a fucked-up foot. You, one. University? Zero!

Of course, you weren’t about to say this. Instead, you gulp, wiggling your toes just to make sure nothing was broken.

You turn to Grey with doeful eyes. “Well, everything is still connected. I think I’ll be able to walk, maybe with some… Extra support?”

He lifts the damp rag off your foot and contemplates a bit, placing a finger under his chin.

“Why don’t you try standing up?”

He moves to give you some space and you swing your legs off the bed, moving quite feebly to put on a show and hopefully getting the world’s hottest crutch out of it.

Unfortunately, you were so preoccupied with putting on an act that you forgot which foot was actually injured. You place all your weight onto one foot before you realize you’ve gone and fucked yourself and feel the shock of pain immediately.

Your knee gives out, sending you flailing like a circus monkey on a tricycle, except you weren’t a circus monkey on a tricycle because at least those were cute, you were just a clumsy buffoon with one foot, too lazy to pick up her own belongings and finally paying the price for it.

“Shit!”

You’re entirely prepared to just give up life and become a fully concussed vegetable at this point, but instead of the sweet embrace of death, you get the sweet embrace of a himbo instead. An arm catches you by the waist before you can hit the floor and pulls you back up to his chest, the scent of a woody cologne punching you in the face.

When you look up, you’re met with Ben’s gaze. His reddish brown hair and chocolate eyes are a lot more overwhelming up close, and it doesn’t help that you suddenly recall him calling you pretty while he snotted over your bed. You stiffen like a board.

“Uhm. Hey.” You say, definitely not awkwardly at all.

He flusters, tips of his ears turning red. He swallows thickly and his adams apple bobs up and down.

“Hey.”

He averts his eyes and looks anywhere but at you, doing what you think is an attempt at whistling nonchalantly. It was in no way nonchalant. In fact, you weren’t sure if he even knew how to whistle, he was kind of just blowing spit out of puckered lips. With both of you distracted, neither of you realize his grip was becoming slack with his inattentiveness.

“…Ben.” Grey warns, albeit softly, but alas, he’s too late and too damn quiet.

He drops you like it’s hot and everyone else watches in horror as your head connects like deadweight with the metal frame of the bed, a loud and resounding “CLING!” bouncing off the walls and reverberating in the room like a haunting testament to assured braincell loss.

Your vision swims and darkness begins to bleed into your periphery. The last thing you hear is Gerard’s voice echoing in your brain,

“Hey man, is that my shirt you’re using as a rag?”

#weak hero university #weak hero x reader #webtoon weak hero #weakhero #weak hero #reader insert #fanfiction

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sturchling · 4 years

Note

Damian uses the lasso of truth on Lila and Akuma class to reveal why they treated Mari horribly (except Alix Nath Chlo Sabrina Kim Jules)Lila has issues & her + Alya Max even Rose were jealous of Mari’s success, connections and how perfectly good she is (Rose: without being annoying and childish)and since Lila tells them what they want to hear and they wanted 2 her Mari wasn’t better than them that she’s lower and it was an excuse to bully her. Think of the worst karma 4 them to suffer through

Here you go! I based the karma off of how bullying had been handled at my old school. Hope you like it! Let me know what you think.

Damian hadn’t even met this Lila girl yet, but he already despised her. Marinette had told him all about Lila and her lies. Damian had met Marinette a several months ago when he accompanied his father to Paris for business. The Waynes visited the Dupain-Cheng bakery, and Marinette offered to show Damian around Paris. Before Damian could reject the offer, Bruce accepted it for him. Damian begrudgingly followed the young designer, but ended up enjoying her company. After that trip, the two kept texting and skyping to stay in touch and became good friends.

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

It wasn’t long after they met, that the Lila situation took a turn for the worse. Lila began making progress turning the class against Marinette. Alix, Nathaniel, Chloe, Sabrina, Kim, and Juleka didn’t believe what Lila was saying about Marinette. But the rest of the class had turned on Marinette, believing the worst in her. They all thought she was bullying Lila, and they in turn, bullied her. Marinette’s friends tried defending her, but the rest of the class was still able to torment Marinette when she was alone. Adrien, even though he knew Lila was lying, did nothing to stop the class’ attack against Marinette. While Marinette was happy that she still had some of her friends, she was upset that the rest of the class could think so little of her.

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

Marinette became quieter after a while. The bullying was starting to take its toll on her. Damian noticed the change in Marinette pretty quickly and asked what was wrong. He knew that Marinette, the bubbliest person he knew, wouldn’t be this quiet unless something was wrong. She was very hesitant to say anything, but eventually he got the whole story out of her. How her class had started to bully her, based off the word of a liar. How friends she had trusted, had turned on her in the blink of an eye. Damian was furious. He had become rather protective of Marinette, and was infuriated that her class was being so cruel to her. So, he resolved to do something about it.

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

Damian had spoken to Wonder Woman, who said his plan should work. Damian was going to borrow the lasso of truth and reveal the liar to the class, if not the whole school. He planned to trap, not just Lila, but all of Marinette’s bullies in the rope. That way, the rest of her class could not doubt the veracity of the lasso. He was going to do this during either lunch or the end of the day, to ensure the maximum amount of witnesses to the liar’s forced confession. He hoped some faculty might be there as well and be able to take action against the liar and her followers. With his plan set in motion, Damian prepared to go to Paris later that week. He was determined to help Marinette solve her liar problem. He was, admittedly, looking forward to destroying this liar.

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

Finally, Damian arrived in Paris. He had decided to enact his plan at the end of the school day. That way Marinette couldn’t be bombarded afterwards, and the faculty was most likely to be present during dismissal. Damian arrived at the school a few minutes before dismissal was set to begin. He waited by the stairs, ready for Mrs. Bustier’s class to walk by. He knew, from what Marinette told him, that her tormentors often left the class first, leaving Marinette and her friends alone in the classroom. He also knew what the liar looked like. So, once the classes were dismissed, he waited until he spotted a crowd of about six people surrounding the liar come down the stairs. It was time to reveal the liar. With that thought in mind, Damian threw the lasso around the group.

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

Marinette was walking out with her friends, and had just gotten to the top of the stairs, when she saw a golden rope ensnare Lila and her cronies. She was very confused, even more so when she saw Damian holding the other end of the rope. Why was Damian here? Why did Damian tie up half her class? Damian spoke up, “This lasso compels you to speak the truth. It is the lasso of truth, and we are going to have a little conversation.” Max went to deny that this was the legendary lasso, but instead he was forced to say, “Yes, this is the lasso of truth.” Marinette was shocked. New question. How did Damian get a hold of the lasso of truth?

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

Damian noticed out of the corner of his eye that an older man had emerged from an office upstairs. That must be the headmaster. Perfect. Damian glared at the girl he knew to be Lila Rossi, “You are Lila Rossi, correct?” Lila was forced to confirm that that was in fact her name. Damian continued, not giving anyone a chance to stop him, “Isn’t it true that you are nothing but a liar?” To Lila’s horror she said, “Yes, I am a liar.” Gasps were heard from around the courtyard. Damian smirked, “Tell the truth Lila, what all have you lied about?” Lila tried to resist, but the lasso forced her to reveal everything. The truth came tumbling out of her, and didn’t stop until she had revealed everything she had ever lied about. She revealed that she didn’t know any of the celebrities she claimed to know, and that she never intended to help her class reach their goals like she had promised. She even revealed that all of her injuries and disabilities were all fake. Even the lying disease she had made up, which caused Mr. Damocles to become quite angry that this young girl had tricked him. Damian asked one more question for the liar, “To be clear, Marinette Dupain-Cheng never bullied or harassed you in any way, but you have been bullying her, correct?” Lila tried desperately to keep her mouth shut, but of course it didn’t work, “That is correct. Marinette never did anything to me except call me out as a liar. I wanted to make her suffer for seeing through my lies. No one ever sees through them. So, I turned her class against her. I even got them to start bullying her by claiming that she had been bullying me. I only ever told them what they wanted to hear.” That statement caught Damian’s attention. He hadn’t originally intended on actually using the lasso on the rest of the class. He had just considered them to be idiots that followed the words of the liar. Now he wondered just how innocent they really were. He then turned his attention to the rest of the class.

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

Damian asked the trapped akuma class, “Did you truly believe Lila’s lies?” When they confirmed that, he continued, “Why did you believe her over Marinette? Why did you all turn on your friend? Why start bullying Marinette?” The class all tried fighting it, but they had the same success that Lila had in that endeavor. Alya broke first, “We were jealous of her! She is the same age as us, but she is already successful as a fashion designer and has so many connections. She is so perfect all the time, it is so annoying.” Rose chimed in, “Yeah, I always thought she had to be better than us, since she was so successful. All of us did. It made me feel insecure. My friend was already so much further ahead in life than I was. But then Lila told us that Marinette wasn’t any better than us.” The rest of the trapped akuma class agreed with that, then Alya spoke up again, “Yeah, in fact Lila said that Marinette was actually worse than us. She was only successful because she happened to know famous people. She was using her connections to get ahead instead of working hard.” Damian became enraged hearing that. Marinette did work hard and how dare these people assume otherwise. Damian growled, “So you decided to bully her for that inane reason?” Alya spoke again, “It wasn’t just that. Lila told us that Marinette was bullying her. If Marinette sunk that low, then she deserved to know what it was like to be bullied.” Damian was quickly losing his composure, hearing these people say such vile things. It seems the rest of the school was of the same mind, because most everyone was glaring at the akuma class now. Mr. Damocles had now come downstairs to stand next to Damian. Damian also noticed that several students were filming what the akuma class was saying. Good, there will be a record of what they have said. Damian asked one final question, “To be clear, how have you been bullying Marinette? What did you do to her?” The class then began to admit everything they had ever done to Marinette. Every cruel word, every bit of destruction, every trip and shove. By the end of the confession, the whole school was furious with this group. How could they do all that to one of the sweetest girls in the school.

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

When they were finally finished, Damian released them from the lasso. They tried to back pedal and fix the damage they had caused. But they weren’t able fix this with a few words. The group were taken by Mr. Damocles to his office, so they could discuss what they had admitted to. Their parents were called and were horrified to hear what their kids had done. Lila was expelled and her mother sent Lila back to Italy to live with her grandparents who would be able to watch her more closely. Obviously, the rest of the parents grounded their kids. Nino and Rose, who hadn’t done much more than call Marinette names, were given in school suspension and told they had to write an apology to Marinette. Ivan, Mylene, and Max were all suspended for 10 days, and they also had to write an apology. Even though they hadn’t destroyed much of Marinette’s property, their parents still were going to make them pay back Marinette for everything they had destroyed. Adrien, even though he didn’t directly participate in the bullying, was still made to take classes in bullying prevention, the damage bullying can cause, and how to recognize toxic behaviors in people. Alya, who had done the most damage, was also suspended. She was suspended for 10 days as well, pending a hearing with the school board. Only the school board could suspend a student for longer than 10 days. Alya had been confident that she could convince the school board to let her return to school, but it hadn’t worked in her favor. The school board was horrified by the details of what Alya had done and agreed she needed to be suspended for even longer. Alya was officially suspended for 3 weeks. After that time, she would still have detention after school for the next month. Her parents also decided to make her shut down the Ladyblog, which Alya had started using as a way to harass Marinette online. Finally, Alya was also made to pay Marinette back for everything she had destroyed. Everyone that was punished also had their event privileges taken from them, which meant they could not attend any school events, like dances or trips. Even when their punishments were done, the akuma class realized that things had changed drastically for them at school. The rest of the school treated them like pariahs.

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

Meanwhile Marinette moved on from the events of the akuma class. She became her happy, bubbly self again. She was glad to finally be free of that liar’s manipulations. While she did accept everyone’s apology, they were never truly friends again, the relationships were just too damaged to go back to normal. While it did make Marinette sad to realize that all of these people that she thought were her friends were jealous of her, she was happy to have discovered people that were her true friends. She and Damian were closer than ever, and she was very grateful to him for putting an end to Lila’s torments.

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goldentsum · 4 years

Text

— delivery boy

PAIRING: shinsou x reader

GENRE: fluff, awkward scenes

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY: a sleep-deprived college student just trying to get by the hellhole he’s in by getting a job as a delivery boy. shinsou hates what he does but if he can get a certain cutie, it might lessen his hatred for his job.

TAGS: college au, just fluff with soft and awkward shinsou, sleep-deprived! shinsou as always, cursing, crack

AUTHOR’S NOTE: quarantine made me do it. sighhh, can’t i have a cute delivery boy everytime i order shit? also, shinsou is me pls. D:<

shinsou hates his job. he doesn’t like it one bit. the way some orders are too long that he was using his big brain juice all the time or when someone cancels their order when he already bought the fucking food, he absolutely hates it. his faith in humanity is decreasing at a rapid speed with his job, not like it exists to begin with anyway.

the purple-haired male is proud of his 4.0 gpa despite him slowly losing his sanity as he lose sleep over it but there was this asshole of a teacher in literature 3 was making it difficult to maintain it just because the old geezer has his head stuck in his ass and he won’t even give them the ppt slides, that asshole.

shinsou rubbed his tired eyes while his one hand typed on his computer, listening to the asshole professor in front. the male craned his neck and massaged his neck then took a quick sip of coffee, closing his eyes as he did so. when he opened his eyes the slide in front was already different, making him put down his drink in surprise and tried to copy the notes in a hurry, cursing quietly when he noticed that the last sentence in his notes was cut off.

he fussed over his notes because it was the only thing that’s keeping him from failing the class. the professor was an asshole and liked to pick on his students and shinsou absolutely hates him. he swears when he graduates, he’ll curse the professor off and flip him off as he walks away from this hellhole.

when the class finished, shinsou looked at his notes in horror. it was cut off in a lot of places and so incoherent that when he tried to read it, he thought he gave himself an aneurysm because of it.

his tired eyes stared blankly at his screen while his internal monologue went on about how he’ll just find a sugar mommy and live his best life while the other students went out the room. his thoughts were then cut off when he heard an oh so familiar voice echoing out to him like a siren in the sea.

purple eyes turned to the side and saw you with your friends who were waiting outside the classroom door as you walked away from his sight. shinsou’s not gonna admit it but he finds you really pretty. you’re just so soft and small compared to him. your sweet smile was always present every morning unlike his dead eyes and resting bitch face. annoyingly, you always distract him from the lessons which freaks him out.

no one has ever fazed him but then you came along with your annoyingly pretty face and aesthetic outfits. always sitting beside him, you smelled really sweet too as creepy as that sounds, and you always greet him with such softness that it made him wanna vomit rainbows and sparkles. no one has ever caught his attention so how the hell can you distract him without even doing anything?

also, why do you write your notes in a notebook and still make it look really good and clean? every time he looks over to your side, he sees your notes and his eyes bulge out when your pretty handwriting, the cute and small illustrations, and pretty colors of your notes fill his sight.

that’s also one of the things shinsou liked admired about you. you’re probably the only person in your whole batch who writes their notes on a notebook, not that it’s a bad thing but how can your notes still be so pretty and organized even with professor asshole’s hellish pace of changing the slides?

shinsou sighed and ran a hand through his messy tresses then fixed his things up to get away from the hellhole and come home to his lovely bed. It must've been at least 24 hours since he last slept because he was up all night the other day to fix and perfect every assignment in the devil’s class.

when he finally got to his dorm, a huge sigh of relief left him as the tall male practically collapsed on his bed. his fatigue overcame him in an instant as his eyes closed in instinct, finally sleeping after stressing so much and intaking coffee, lots of coffee. thank god that it was friday and he didn’t have to wake up early because he finally passed his requirements to every class for the semester.

it was already the next afternoon when shinsou woke up, his body ached but at least he wasn’t running on caffeine to keep him from falling over and dying on the spot.

loud clanking was heard from his kitchen as he perked up in confusion for a moment then groaned in dread when he realized who it was. shinsou let his head hit the pillow once again, staring at his ceiling and he felt a headache coming in already.

fucking kaminari is in his dorm again. he didn’t get the blond’s actions but the latter always told him that he was “making sure he wasn’t dead yet” but shinsou knows that kaminari only wants free food but he appreciates the effort, he guesses but can’t kaminari check if he wasn’t dead a little quieter?

he sighed in annoyance and grabbed his phone, going out after stretching and feeling his bone pop satisfyingly. shinsou was greeted with the sight of kaminari fighting with the sizzling oil on the pan in his kitchen.

“what the fuck are you doing?” shinsou’s bored voice reached the blond male who looked at him and smiled, “morning dude. i noticed you had bacon so i’m gonna cook it.”

shinsou was about to reply but the sharp yelp kaminari let out cut him off and he watched the shorter male curse at the pan, rubbing the spot where the hot oil hit him.

he scoffed at the scene and shook his head as he sat on the couch and opened the tv. he was scrolling idly through the channels and when he didn’t find anything entertaining, he stopped on the news.

opening his phone to check his social media feed as he let the tv and kaminari’s curses and screams become background noises. shinsou just wants to see what type of shit people are in these days and it wasn’t because he’s gonna stalk your account. definitely not that.

shinsou scrolled through your pictures on ig, admiring the aesthetic ones combined with chaotic energy in your profile. he smiled a bit when he noticed you unarchived an old pic in your ig. you had shorter hair in the picture and wore some funky shades.

“ohh~ who’s that? she’s cute” kaminari popped out behind him, looking at shinsou’s phone over his shoulders. shinsou jumped at his friend’s presence, letting go off his phone accidentally as he tried to grab it to not let it smack against the hard floor.

when shinsou saved his phone, he whipped his head and glared at kaminari, “what the fuck, denki!”

“geez, sorry man” the latter nervously chuckled and walked back to the kitchen with fear coursing in his body when the taller male’s glare didn’t falter. shinsou rolled his eyes at him and looked at his phone. his usual dead eyes widened whilst horror filled his system.

on his phone, it showed your old picture from a year ago and on the bottom left, the heart was filled. shinsou quickly unliked the picture and threw the phone beside him on the couch as if it burned him.

“what the fuck what the fuck no no no no--” he mumbled in distress, his heart beating a mile per second. he paled when he imagined seeing you again in class on monday.

“i’m gonna puke,” shinsou muttered and held his head, eyes wavering in fear. kaminari poked his head from the kitchen and saw his distressed figure.

“um? shinsou? are you okay, dude?”

when he heard kaminari’s voice, his head whipped to him in a snap. shinsou smiled at him as a shiver ran down kaminari’s spine. “do i look okay, denki?”

a loud scream echoed in shinsou’s dorm and that was the last time anyone has ever seen kaminari denki. rip.

shinsou was stressing the fuck out, he even felt tears prick his eyes with how stressed out he is. nothing could compare to the stress he’s feeling right now well maybe his first finals was also this stressful but that’s not the point. kaminari tried to cheer him up with some bacon and eggs but the male was so snappy though he ate the food after denki left.

after sulking in his dorm, he shook it off and tried to take his mind off it. he showered, worked out a bit in his room, and made some shake but the embarrassment was always looming in the back of his mind. you might think he’s a creep or something. you two barely talked to each other with only good mornings and pleasantries exchanged for the whole semester so what the hell is he gonna do?!

before he knew it, he was accepting some orders in his phone to let out some steam and keep him busy. for the first 2 orders everything was fine but he suddenly got tired and the shame he left at his apartment was still in his system. so he accepted the last order for today before going back to his dorm to do his last resort of screaming into the void. he then went to the boba shop to get the orders.

getting the order, he went straight to a nearby dorm in his campus that’s being shown in his phone to get the money and yeet himself out afterwards. shinsou rubbed his neck, mentally and physically tired after going around and delivering people their food and from getting a harsh life-changing embarrassment happen to him. he’s never gonna stalk you or anyone for that matter again and if he ever sees you again, he’s gonna jump through the nearest fucking window, he doesn’t even care anymore.

as he rang the doorbell and waited for someone to open the door and get the heavy milk teas off his hand, he was already thinking of going to another school and just live a whole new second life. dramatic as that sounds but it was tempting at this point.

but life was not having it. life wants to see him suffer thoroughly. before he thought he just had some bad luck but now, he knows that life was fucking him over and laughing at his misery.

the door opened and in came to view the last person he wants to see right now, you, and it’s not fair, why are you answering the door with an oversized shirt and some shorts with messy hair, looking like a goddamn cutie! you want to kill him, don’t you?

your (e/c) eyes gleam with familiarity when you see the awkward tall male from your class and saw the precious boba in one of his hands.

“shinsou, right? i didn’t know you did delivery?” you smiled at him making the purple-headed male scream internally. he cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded, “y-yeah, the pay isn’t that much but it helps...” he replied so painfully awkward that if anyone sees you two, they’ll cringe. it was that bad.

but being the angel that you are, you giggled and nodded as if you weren’t affected by his awkwardness. he’s thankful for that.

“wait a second, okay? i’ll get the payment” you chimed and he nodded as you run inside the dorm. shinsou’s mind was running a mile per second, did you not receive the notification of his shameful actions? or were you being an angel and sparing him the embarrassment?

he wants to hibernate and never leave him bed after this. shinsou snapped out of his thoughts when he saw you jogging towards him with the same beautiful smile you wear everyday and he unconsciously straightened up.

“here you go! thank you, shinsou!” you giggled and got the milk teas of his hands while you gave the money to him.

“thank you, (y/n)... um, are you gonna drink all of that?” he asked, cursing his mouth when he just blurted it out. your eyebrows quirk playfully and chuckled, shaking your head no.

“no, silly. my friends are inside” shinsou nodded stiffly and looked around making you two just stand in silence. a painfully awkward silence. shinsou saw you were about to say something but a loud voice from inside the room called out.

“(y/n), where the fuck are you?! the boba! ..shit-! i saw that, you cheater!” you looked back and rolled your eyes then looked back at him. you waved your hand at him with a smile, “well bye, shinsou. thanks again” and closed the door.

shinsou exhaled a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking at the closed door. he then walked away though his eyes were going to the door again and again until he couldn’t see it anymore. he looked at his hand and saw a piece of paper inside the bundle of money.

with furrowed brows, he opened the folded paper and he was floored!

hi shinsou! call me sometime! :)

xxx-xxxxxxx

-(y/n)

okay, maybe being a delivery boy isn’t so bad after all. he got your number didn’t he? talk about lucky!

extra crack ending: when you and shinsou are finally dating

(y/n): so... are we really not gonna talk about the post that you liked in my ig?

shinsou: you knew?!

(y/n): duh bitch.

627 notes · View notes

apherod · 3 years

Text

Rubian Soulmate AU

I finally finished writing it ahhhh

I eventually decided that I was going for a sketch-style writing for this. Just short bits and pieces here and there, piecing together some scenes, but not fully fleshed out into a storyline (it coincides with the original story mostly anyway)

So here it is! Enjoy!

This is a Liam and Ruby Soulmate AU requested by an anon (possibly @thedarkestcrew?) ask, in which damage done to one half of the soulmate pair would translate to the other half.

Word count: 4400

===

Liam

“Where did all these bruises come from?”

I was driving through Highway 95 in Maryland when I noticed the bruises crowning my knuckles. They just…appeared, like petals floating to the surface of water. It is possible that I punched something—or someone—at some point in the last few days, or tripped and fell, and using…my fists to break the fall? But I don’t recall doing any of that.

Then again, my head hadn’t been the most reliable in these past few weeks, either.

They weren’t the first. A couple of weeks ago, I woke up with a cut on my upper arm, and the blood drenched half of my sleeve, but the sleeve wasn’t torn or cut, so it couldn’t have been me… Another one came a few days after that, when I was driving, and a sudden searing pain came to my wrist, like I was burnt by a frying pan, but that part of my skin wasn’t even touching anything. The list goes on.

I think I’m going insane.

Some people…some who are lucky enough to find their soulmates, found themselves with identical wounds on them, because when one half of that bond gets hurt, the other one suffers, too. Mom’s bruises never translated onto our birth dad. Maybe that was why he was so okay with hurting her. It wasn’t until she met Harry, did that magic—or curse—work on both of them.

But that’s exactly that—it only happens after you’ve met the person. If I’ve somehow met her, and didn’t know who she was, then I’ve really screwed up. Big time.

It couldn’t have been anyone in Caledonia, otherwise I would’ve known. No one from home, either. There weren’t even that many of us left. Could it be someone from East River? For some reason, I just couldn’t be sure… There’re this weird quality in my memory when I think of East River, glowing tinge surrounding everything, blurring details, and flaring up the edges, making it hard to see for too long.

Also, if I met her in East River, why isn’t she with me?

If she’s really out there, I felt sorry for all the pain I’ve caused her in the past few days. When I narrowly escaped that group of Skip Tracers, my arms were all cut up, real pretty. I can’t imagine the horror she must have felt when her arms just, out of nowhere, started spontaneously bleeding half of her blood out.

I really ought to take better care of myself, even if it’s just for her sake.

When I crossed the state boarder into Pennsylvania, I managed to find an old payphone, and left a voice mail for my brother to let him know where I am, and that I’m coming his way. I didn’t want to—asking for Cole’s help was one of the few things that I genuinely want to avoid—but I’m really desperate.

The truth is, just imagining him gloating about this—about me needing his help—was almost enough to make me turn around. Think about the last time I asked for his help… didn’t work out so well, did it? But whatever Cole has to offer, whatever nightmare I have to live through going back to the League, is better than being hauled back into the camp.

I don’t think they’d actually take me back into a camp, anyway.

When I got passed the wrong Wilmington, I briefly glimpsed the road sign that read US 13, and a voice suddenly rang in my head.

Turn off here. It urged.

The feeling was distinctly different from my reluctance to meet Cole—it was a drive, asking me to go somewhere, rather than run from somewhere.

Whatever it was, I can’t listen, no matter how hard I wanted to, no matter how it warmed my heart just thinking about that impulse, like it would lead me home, even though I had no idea how.

I got into the city of Philadelphia, and found my brother’s apartment soon enough. When I got into his building, a woman threw me a sideway glance that made my hair stood on their ends.

Please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me… I muttered in my head while I pressed the buzzer. The door swung opened, and I was snatched inside by a forceful arm.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Cole snarled before I could even lay eyes on him properly. “Why didn’t you call me when you got here?”

He looked much better than me, that much was clear. Cole never had any wound that wasn’t his own, and from the looks of him, he hadn’t seen much action lately. His hair was clean-cut, brushed neatly away from his face. He was wearing a white shirt and dark blue jeans, with metal-frame glasses which were clearly without diopters to finish the look. In this getup, you’d expect him to be a graduate student in U Penn, not a high school dropout.

“I… I didn’t have any money to place a call.” I muttered, feeling my voice getting smaller. Gosh, I hated this. I hated that I felt like a child again. I took off my jacket, and hung it on the peg right next to his. They were two identical black leather jackets, which Mom bought us years ago—she got them a couple of sizes bigger than we were at the time, in anticipation that we would eventually grow into them. Cole did, whereas I felt like I still hadn’t.

Cole let out a long and harsh breath, and gave me a scan head to toe. “You’ve seen better days.” He commented eventually, a subtle amusement in his tone. “Even for you, this is a bit excessive…” He gingerly lifted my right wrist, and got a good look at my forearm, all cut up.

You don’t say. I wanted to retort, but didn’t. “What are you doing in Philly?” I asked as I retracted my hand.

Cole raised an eyebrow. “You really want to know?”

Maybe not. “I’d probably know eventually, wouldn’t I?” I said.

He scratched his chin, frowning. “You know what this means, right? You know where we’re going?”

“Look, if I could just find Mom and Harry…” I began, but he raised his hand and stopped me.

“No,” He snapped, “We don’t have that kind of time. My assignment here is done. I’m being extracted at midnight, which is in less than four hours, and if you think I’d let you out running into the wild and being hauled into a camp again, you’d have another thought coming.”

Choose me. I remembered the subtext of what Cole said that night when he left home, and now it was ringing in a different tone. Now I don’t have a choice.

“All right.” I sighed. “Whatever you say.”

He frowned deeper. But it took him a while to say something. “Look, I know the last time you came with me, it didn’t end so well, but things are turning around.” He said, palms down, pacifying. “I promise, just stick it out a few months.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

He bit his lip. “I just do. Trust me.” He said, then gave me a tight smile, “Tell you what, I’ll go get us something to eat, and you clearly need a shower.” He took off his glasses, grabbed the keys, then, as if remembered something, added with a grin, “Do not, drown in the bathtub.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes.

Before he could open the door, though, I stopped him. “Cole,” I began, but didn’t really know how to finish.

“Yeah?” He prompted.

“Have we...” I caught myself just for a moment. What am I doing? “...have we ever been to Virginia Beach?”

Because that…memory? was so vivid, that I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there, calling me at every moment I so much as allowed my mind to idle for a second. But it also had that bright glare around it, like it didn’t really belong to me, like I was seeing it through a mirror, into a different dimension where we were all happier people.

Cole was there, looking exactly like how he was now, but Claire was also there, and that didn’t make any sense…

“No…?” Cole said, “We lived in Wilmington. We went to Wrightsville, remember?”

Of course I do, but… I shook my head. “It’s just… I kept seeing this…memory, that we were there, and Claire was there, too…”

Cole pressed his lips tight. I know mentioning Claire’s name would probably put him on edge, but it’s not like I have other people to talk about her with anyway. A part of me wanted to be a bit mean about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t have the strength.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, voice rigid. “Just go take your shower. I’ll be back with the food.”

And he left, leaving me alone in his white and bare apartment.

I still couldn’t be sure that it was a good idea coming here. If I’m being honest with myself, it wasn’t even about my negative view on the League, or what it had turned my brother into, but that…I’m not sure how to be his brother anymore. I’m not even sure that he needs a brother.

Hell. Looking around this place, I got the feeling that a brother wasn’t the only thing he didn’t need. But then again, knowing how Cole kept his room, it was maybe a good thing that he had so few belongings here. This place…it didn’t even feel like someone actually live here; there were so few things breaking the white of the walls, it was almost glaring to my eyes.

I first went to check his bed, to see if he still has that weird habit—falling asleep with cigarettes still in his hand. His bedsheet looked clean enough; nothing charred. No ashtray, either. Maybe he quit.

Satisfied, I went to grab a t-shirt and a pair of pants from his closet, and dived into the pressurized water in his shower.

I can’t remember when was the last time I had running water. Probably…when I was in the League’s safe house? Gosh. My skin is so filthy, the water only started running clean after a good ten minutes of scrubbing, and I was scrubbing hard.

I was extra careful when I cleaned my arms, though. Not particularly because I was scared of pain, but more that I didn’t want to hurt this…person who might share this unfortunate connection with me, however low the chance might be. I didn’t want to make her suffer even more—somehow, I knew it was a her, for reasons I couldn’t quite put into words.

When I got out of the shower, I felt like my entire body had been turned inside out. My skin was glowing pink against the white tiling of Cole’s bathroom. He is an inch or two taller than me—which was sore to admit, but hey, I went through puberty in a lot worse condition than he did—so his pants hung a little too long around my ankles.

Then I finally got a good look at myself in the mirror. Damn, I looked awful. The dark shadows under my eyes were so purple, they looked almost black. Not to mention the countless scratches and bruises. There was a new one on my left cheek, just above the jawline. Whether it was mine or hers, I didn’t know.

Just as I threw the towel over my head, and started rubbing the water away from my hair, I heard it—siren. It began from a distance, a low wailing, but it was enough to set every hair on my back on its end. As I flew out of Cole’s shower, grabbed my jacket, and rushed to the window side, the siren got closer—and multiplied. The sound of them were like a harmony from hell.

Should I run? Should I stay?

I should run.

Even though they might not be coming for me, I knew better than to push my luck—it hadn’t really been on my side recently, and that woman who looked at me a second too long when I got in the building was probably proving me right. I threw the apartment door open, and on a second thought, ran for the roof instead of the ground floor.

I can reconvene with Cole later. I need to stay out of sight now. Cole’s a smart guy, he knows what to do in a situation like this.

It had started raining. I tripped on a mossy patch on the rooftop, and almost broke my jaw, but I stood up and kept running. I pushed myself over the ledge of the next building, and sprinted for the fire escape on the far end. The sound of the first bullet fired almost made me lose my bearing when I lowered myself onto the metal shaft.

They are on the other side. There were two fully populated buildings between me and those bullets, and they were firing at someone else—which means I’m not who they’re after. These are all good news.

Right?

Since when had I been that lucky after I turned twelve?

I pulled the hood of the jacket over my head, and dove into the shadow of the next alley. The gunfire had stopped, which meant that they probably got whoever they were after. I took the long way around the block, trying to get a hang of the situation, getting an idea of where I could find Cole without being spotted—

Oh, I found him alright.

Fuck. No. Fuck.

I only caught sight of him for a second before they slammed the back of that van shut, and in that brief second, he looked up, and he saw me.

No.

Christ. No. I… I got him caught. I did… I did this… Why didn’t I warn him? Why didn’t I go to him as soon as I heard the siren?

What have I done?

If you’re caught, you’re disavowed. I still remembered that phrase like it was etched into my skull. If anything encapsulates what I hate about the League the most, this is it. And now, Cole is going to be another casualty under that cold hard rule. The thought almost made my knees buckled, but instead of crashing down, I up and ran.

I ran. From this nightmare of my own making.

+++

Ruby

“Ruby!”

The scream came before the punch could land. I didn’t register what was happening in that first moment, not until the blood was dripping down my elbows, and staining the blue mats under us.

“Go to the infirmary!” Coach Johnson ordered, and I gladly obeyed. I could hear the whispering judgements forming even before I left the training room—what was that? What’s wrong with her? Where did those come from?

I knew exactly where they came from.

If Chubs was here, he’d likely yell at me for not getting these wounds taken care of immediately, but I simply…couldn’t. I ran for the shower stall, being careful not to stain the curtain, and turn on the tap.

With the water pouring out the showerhead, steaming up every bit of air around me, blurring my vision, I finally let the tears fall.

My arms didn’t hurt that much. At least, not as much as my heart. The bruises were bearable—who doesn’t get those occasionally living in the wild? I got one every other day even just from the training. But these cuts…he was in danger. Maybe he only got away with it within an inch of his life.

The only consolation I had was that I wasn’t mortally wounded, which meant he wasn’t, either. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t regret my decision of letting him go every second of every day.

If I did that to protect him, all these wounds and bruises only proved how wrong I was, how in vain my suffering had been.

“Ruby?” Cate’s voice.

I swallowed hard before answering. “Yes?”

“Are you all right?” She asked, standing outside of my stall.

“Yes.” I lied.

“Coach Johnson said you were hurt—” She didn’t buy it. “Look, if you don’t want to go to the infirmary, I can take a look—”

“I’m fine.” I cut her off. The timer on the tap beeped, warning me that the water would start running cold. My blood was dripping down from my fingers, dropping into the shallow water on the concrete floor like roses blooming in the snow.

“Ruby, I can see the blood.” Cate said dryly, then softer, coaxing. “Come out, please. Let me dress your wounds.”

Only if I could just close my eyes, and pretend for a second that the person who was waiting for me with antiseptic was Chubs, not Cate. If only I could pretend that these wounds were mine, not of the boy that I dreamt of every night for the past few months.

If only I could pretend that they were here with me, or that I wasn’t here at all.

I sighed, and brushed the curtain open. To Cate’s credit, she didn’t flinch at the sight of me. “Oh, Ruby…” She said with a tone like I was a stray cat ready to be put down. She reached out, and gingerly lifted my hand to get a better look at my arm.

“Press on it.” She handed me a towel, and sat down on the bench before patting the empty space beside her, motioning for me to join her.

I did as she said as she tore open a paper package. “This is going to hurt a little…” She gently dabbed the fabric square on my wounds, and I hissed out of reflex. I hated this. I hated showing her my weakness, and I guessed, in a weird way, she understood that. She didn’t comment on any of it, only continued to wrap my arms up in silence.

“There.” When she’s done, both of my forearms were wrapped entirely in gauzes.

“Th…thank you.” I managed to choke out.

She gave me a tender smile. “Don’t mention it.” She stood up, collecting the empty packages off the bench, and turned to leave.

Before she was out of the door, however, she turned around, and said, “You know, you get those wounds together, and you heal together, too.” She paused for a second, “You’re…not entirely helpless in this situation.”

Ten minutes after she left, I was still sitting on that bench, pondering her words. I didn’t even know what she said was true, but if it was, it meant that when I took care of myself, I took care of him, too. That, somehow, didn’t seem so bad.

I wondered how Cate knew that. She and Rob were clearly not soulmates, and I didn’t even know why she would want to date him, even without considering that fact. Rob—ruthless, arrogant, hateful—was everything opposite to what she seemed to hold dear.

But then again, she probably didn’t understand why someone would find their soulmate only to let them go on their own.

That day when I let Liam go, I made a decision that I would be whoever the League wants me to be, and make it so that they wouldn’t miss him. And for the longest time, I had kept to that promise. But not today, not now.

I just want to be myself again, even if it’s just for a moment.

So I brushed open the curtain to the stall, and allowed myself to be vulnerable again, for everyone and no one to see.

+++

His eyes traveled from my face to where the water had collected on my chest, and I raised my arms just that much higher.

His mouth half-opened for what I was sure to be a snide remark, but whatever it was never managed to pass his lips. His face froze, brows drew together, and he reached out. Before I could shift away—to where though, I had no idea; my back was already against the wall—he grabbed my wrist, and lifted my arm.

“It was you.” Cole said with a tone of half astonishment, half…anger?

“What was?” I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide how much I felt like a kid being caught red-handed, stealing candy bars.

He threw me a “really?” look. “Don’t insult my intelligence.” He snapped, “These are Liam’s, aren’t they?”

I almost asked “how do you know”, but that would confirm his suspicion. “What makes you say that?” I asked instead.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not playing games with you.” He huffed, “Soulmates should stick together. What were you thinking sending him out into the wild? Do you have any idea how dangerous he is to you? Or you to him? The poor bastard doesn’t even know you exist!”

“And as long as I stay in the League, that fact shall remain.” I said, more resolute and calmer than I thought possible.

He blew out a sigh of exasperation. “Look, I don’t care what kind of sainthood complex you have going on, I’m telling you—you are not doing either of you any favors, and if you think this is somehow a good idea, I beg you, think again, because you definitely look smarter than this.”

“What do you know?” I retorted, finally couldn’t keep the lid on my anger anymore. “Do you have any idea how much he hates it here? How hard he was trying to avoid this place before you drag him into this mess?”

Cole really laughed. “You think I don’t know?” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I met his glare head on. “I was the one that let him go when he got away that first time.” He tried to brush his hair back with his hand, but it gave out a weird flex before he could reach his head. “And I’ve seen enough soulmates pairs in my life to know that I never want one. Have you any idea what would happen to him if you were injured when he was on the run? Soulmates stick together so they don’t double their chances on dying, but I guess no one ever set your logic straight, did they?”

My head was so flushed with anger that I actually let him finished.

“Go find him.” Cole snapped. “And for Christ’s sake, stay together this time.”

+++

Liam

“I didn’t need freedom; I needed you!” I half-screamed, trying to get the frustration out past the chaos raging in my head. How could I—? How could she—? What the hell—?

On the receiving end of my scream, Ruby’s face was painted with grief, lined with tears that almost made my anger buckle. Almost.

“Did you just…not want to be with me anymore?” Facing her silence, my pain came out softer eventually. Please, just tell me, and I will leave you alone.

“No…” She choked out. “I… I was wrong.” She swallowed hard before continuing, and despite the anger still roaming my vein, I wanted to reach out and touch her. “We should…we should stay together. I knew I couldn’t bear to see you with the League, see them take away all the good in you that I love…”

“Is that how you think of me?” I snapped before I realized what I was doing, “That I am so weak that the League is bound to break me?”

“No!” She shook her head violently, “No, I don’t think you are weak… If anything, I think you are much stronger than me. But I was weak.” She finally looked back at me, her green eyes gleaming in the dim light of this dust-covered room. “I’m so sorry.”

Before I could react to what she said—I didn’t even know what I was going to say or do—the sound of a gunshot broke every single thought clean out of my head.

Ruby was running before I could do anything about it. She pushed the door of the shop open, and another shot blew open the window on the outside, shattering the glass all over the floor.

“Ruby!” I shouted as I dodged, crouching with my hands over my ears, but she was already up and running again, out of the door and behind the woman that was escaping the scene—with a gun in her hands.

“Ruby, stop!” I shouted again, got on my feet to catch her, but I never manage. I skidded on the broken glass, and fell, hands first, into the shards.

I heard her hiss. She stopped dead on her way, and whirled around to find me on the floor, holding my right hand on my laps, pressing it against the fabric of my jeans to try and stop the bleeding.

The blood was dripping down to her fingers. As she walked slowly towards me, the red, looking almost black, dropped on the dust-covered floor, leaving a spotting route, marking her path. When she knelt down beside me, finally close enough to touch me, I found that she was smiling. A totally mirthless, wry and painful smile.

“Give me your hand.” She said softly, almost like a whisper.

“You should treat yours first.” I said, trying to catch her hand, to see how much of a damage I’d done.

“We only need to treat one of us.” She let out a small breath, almost like something caught there. “We get them together, and we heal them together, too.”

That, somehow, broke through all the mess in my head and reached my mind. I let her take my arm, and carefully wrap her scarf on my hand, all the while her words played on repeat in my head.

We get them together, and we heal them together, too.

When she was done wrapping my hand up, the wounds on her hand stopped bleeding, too. I didn’t know why—I wasn’t even completely over that anger or frustration—but when she placed her hand in mine, a tender “there” escaping her lips, all I wanted to do was kiss her.

Instead, I gently enveloped my fingers around her hand. “There.” I said, pressing my good hand over hers.

And we stayed in that silent, that touch, just a little while longer.

+++

#tdm #the darkest minds #ruby daly #Liam Stewart #rubiam #soulmate AU #request #fanfic #writing #Cole Stewart #cate connor

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mysoftboybensolo · 3 years

Text

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 9: The Abduction

A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, kidnapping, violence and death.

Evelina's body ached all over and her vision was blurry. What happened? As her body came to, her mind was dragging behind. She was crying over Laszlo, Sara had left, leaving her and Tessie alone. A bell rang, no not the church bell, it was softer, higher pitched. Doorbell. A scream. Yes, it was coming back to her.

Tessie remained by Evelina’s side, trying to help calm and comfort her, when the doorbell rang. “I’ll be right back.” Tessie went down the stairs and answered the door.

“Pardon me, Miss, I was wondering if you be interested in an encyclopedia.”

“No thank you,” Tessie tried to close the door, but the man gently interrupted her.

“Well, is your master or mistress at home?”

“No, she is not, but she would not be interested either.”

“What about the other lady? She might be interested.”

Tessie felt her blood run cold. “How do you know about the other lady?”

The man stares at her, his smile grows and becomes sinister, which made Tessie try to shove the door in his face, but he shoved himself in, knocking her down to the ground.

Evelina heard a loud thud, pulling her from her misery and out from the room. As she went down the stairs, she saw a man on top of Tessie, struggling. “Tessie!” The man gave a punch to the maid’s face, knocking her out, then turned. No, it couldn’t be.

“Evelina,” Winston spoke her name with longing.

Fear gripped her heart and she ran back up the stairs, hoping to barricade herself in the room but Winston was fast and before she could block the entrance, he barged in. “Get out,” her voice hoarse, her eyes wild with fear.

“Not without you, sweetie. Come.” He stepped forward, and Evelina reached over to the nightstand and threw a vase at him, and while it did hit him, it did nothing to deter him. “You seem to have forgotten your manners, sweetie.” He lunged before she knew it, grabbed her and dragged her away. She tried to hold onto the doorframe, but he was much stronger than she and all she did was leave marks on the wood. Once he had her away from the room, he punched her so hard, she was left unconscious, making it easier for him to carry her away. He didn’t care if the door to the house was open, he had what he wanted and with her in his carriage, he raced off to the opera.

Winston was nothing if not through, for he planned this ever since he spotted her on the stoop with that man. Dr. Laszlo Kreizler. Son of Leopold and Jozefa Kreizler, only child and heir to the publishing fortune, an alienist specializing in children, age forty, no children of his own, never married. Avid lover of opera, and intensely interested in one Evelina Lind. What Winston couldn’t understand was why she was interested in him; sure, he was wealthy, but he never took her to be a whore, willing to do anything for money. And if it wasn’t for the money, it couldn’t be his looks, for he was also sixteen years older than her, a cripple and with a profession that was looked down by society. It had to have been a moment of madness, he convinces himself, now that I am here, she’ll never look at him twice again.

The past few days were spent exploring the opera, checking the entries and exits that he can slip in unseen, and the best place to hide. The prop room was filled with many things and one can easily hide if one so wished. Through a door in the alley, he carried Evelina, who was still unconscious and carried her down to the prop room, and once set her down on a sofa, he worked to tie her hands and feet, making certain she didn’t move while they waited. He looked down at her and sighed. Nine years of not seeing her had been torment to him, and he thought she grew even more beautiful.

He knew that his feelings were more than brotherly when their mother died and she was beginning to blossom into a young woman, in fact, it was at their mother’s funeral did he notice the changes in her. The problem was that the boys noticed the change as well. She was slipping away from him and he hated that, he hated her for wanting to get away, for allowing the boys to flirt and growing up. His love was violent and obsessive, made him say and do hateful things, but it hurt to see her turn away from him. How could she not see his suffering, see that his cruelty came from his desire for her, how all he wanted to do was protect her from the men who wanted to take her away from him?

That boy tried to, the one who kissed her hand, who made her smile, a smile that she never shared with him. So, he hunted that boy down and beat him, not caring what his actions did, for he was blinded by his anger, jealousy, and fear, that only when he grew tired had he realize what he did. The boy was dead, barely recognizable, but he didn’t care. Let this be a warning to anyone else who dares to take my sweetie away from me. And when he did at last confess his feelings, instead of throwing her arms around him and pled her undying love and passion, she reacted with disgust and horror. Why? Why such horror? He had to try and make her see his feelings and tried to kiss and caress her as lovers would, but she fought, screamed and then Papa came in and ruined everything.

Papa had separated the pair and since that day, Winston vowed he’d never forgive his father, vowed he’d find a way back to her. Nine years of waiting and the time at last came, he was let go because his father’s funds ended, and he went back home. She must be waiting for me, burning as I burn. But he found that the house was occupied by another family, and she had fled. It took him a while to figure out where, but he managed to find out and boarded the first boat to America.

No longer oceans apart, so close as they were that last day, and everything will be well again.

He watched as she slowly came to, a soft moan escaping, no doubt from the aches in her body, and watched as everything came back to her. When she saw him, she screamed, tried to get away, but found herself bound and Winston clasping his hand over her mouth. “Shhh! Now, now, none of that, sweetie.”

Evelina was gasping heavily even beneath the hand, tears forming in her eyes. When he removed his hand, she gulped then softly pleaded, “Please, Winston. Please let me go.”

“Oh, I can’t, not yet. We are expecting company, and I said you’d be here.”

“Company?” she asked.

“A party of three, you, me and Dr. Kreizler.”

Horror came across her face, and once again she began to beg, even more desperately, “Winston, please, you do not have to! There is no reason for him being here. He means nothing!”

“I saw you! I saw you two on the stoop, holding hands and so close. You looked at him the way I always wanted to be looked at. And then to see you in the park with him, so happy. He even held you in his arms as you danced, so close and intimate. You even allowed him to call you by your Christian name. Oh, Evelina!” he moaned, “How could you! How could you forget me? How could you forsake me? Me, who waited and suffered for you all these years, kept the memory of you painted in my mind for nine years, waiting to find you. You left me, and you choose him!”

She cried, because all she could remember was that day in the den, fearful that no one would come for her, hearing the same mad ramblings of her brother. Oh, please God, she silently prayed, help me escape, let me see Laszlo once more and be safe again.

A sound came echoing into the room, making Evelina and Winston look towards the sound, and desperate, she opened her mouth to try and scream, but Winston was quick and stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth as he went to inspect the sound. She struggled and tried to escape, falling off the sofa and to the ground, but it did no good. Winston had returned, and she could see that he was holding a baton, blood on the tip.

“It was, sadly, not our honored guest. But this fellow won’t be bothering us anymore.”

Laszlo hurried to the opera, hoping that he was not too late. He would not have Sara come along, fearful that if Winston even sees her, something dreadful will happen, but instead had given her instructions and went on his own. He bypassed the singers and dancers, who looked at him curiously. Ernest tried to approach him, but he instead demanded where the prop room was.

“I can show you, if you like.”

“No, just tell me. Please Ernest, don’t ask questions. It’s a matter of life or death!”

Ernest complied and watched as his friend hurried off, then he went to his office to make a call.

Laszlo followed the path, his heart beating furiously. If something has happened or will happen to her, it will be because of him and he will never forgive himself. He froze when he came across a figure lying on the ground, but then carefully moved towards it and found it was a man, blood coming from his head, dead. This was what Laszlo was going to face, a madman who was unafraid to use violence if necessary.

“Winston!” Laszlo called out, letting him know he was approaching.

Winston smiled and Evelina struggled. “Ah, here he has come. I knew he would,” he jeered at Evelina. “Come, Dr. Kreizler, we have been expecting you!”

Laszlo turned the corner and carefully walked through the maze of props until he found them. His eyes immediately found Evelina, who was sitting against the sofa on the floor, bound and gagged, tears streaming down her face. It broke him to see her like this. Then he looked over to the man who started all this. Yes, it was exactly as Evelina described him, even with the mad and frightening look in his blue eyes. He knew he had to tread lightly if anyone was hoping to get out alive.

“Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, what a pleasure to finally meet you! I have heard a great deal about you.” The words sent a shiver up Laszlo’s spine, not so much of what Winston said, but how it was said, as if this was a normal social event in which these two men have met. “It’s wonderful to see the man, face to face.”

“And you, Winston,” Laszlo said carefully, his eyes darting to Evelina. “A rather unusual place to meet.”

“Yes, well, I wanted privacy, and I am certain that we are?” He asked, looking at Laszlo with mad eyes, hoping he hadn’t been foolish to bring anyone else here.

“As you said, this is a party of three. It would have been rude of me to invite anyone else.”

Winston smiled. “Good. Very good. You see, this is such a personal gathering, and we need not have spectators. It has come to my attention that you and my sister, my sweet foolish sister,” he says as he hosts her up on the sofa, removing the gag, “Have been seeing quite a lot of each other. Funny, but to the outside eye, it would almost look like you were courting. But it couldn’t be, could it? You are so much older than her, lame and frowned upon. What could a young and beautiful woman like her want to do with you? When she could have someone like me?”

“Winston, please,” Evelina sobbed out, her lip trembling.

He hushed her, his hand brushing along her hair and cheek. “Hush now, the adults are talking. I can only assume it was done in a moment of madness, I mean, look,” he takes hold of her bound hands, roughly pulling her up, her back to him, making her look at Laszlo. “Do you see? Him and me. There is no comparison, there can be no doubt of who she’d rather be with.”

“Winston,” Laszlo started, a small step forward, “You are right. Compared to me, who wouldn’t want to be with you. You are young, handsome, and strong, I couldn’t offer what she would want. So, I think the best thing is for you to let her go and let it be decided by us men,” he said, playing to Winston’s perceptions and ego.

“Oh, I would, but she ran from me once. I can’t bear to let her go again. I waited nine years for her. And like some pathetic dog, I had to be satisfied with so little; a glimpse of her leaving the opera, the scent of her knickers,” he pressed his nose to her hair, inhaling the scent, “So sweet, flowery. Can you feel it, sweetie? Can you feel how much I love you, want you?”

Evelina wanted to gag at the feeling of Winston pressing is body against hers, making her feel a hint of his arousal, and she sobbed harder. “Winston, please, let us go!”

He chuckled darkly, “Not yet. We can’t leave just yet, I need you to see,” he moved down and untied her feet, his hand running up her leg, over her hip and across her breasts as he got up and began to untie her hands, “I need you to see why I am better for you. Why it should be me, instead of him.” Letting her go, she took a deep breathe, as if she was being strangled, and watched in horror as he approached the doctor. “What do you say, Kreizler, show her who is deserving of her love?”

Without warning, Winston struck Laszlo with the baton, making Laszlo fall to the ground. No, he was not dead, Winston wasn’t going to give him the mercy of a swift death, but to suffer, to let him know who was stronger, braver, better for Evelina. “Come on. Come on! Fight back you cripple!” But Winston didn’t allow Laszlo a chance to get up and fight back, for any chance he did, Winston would kick him, beat him, making him fall back to the ground, his body in pain everywhere.

Evelina watched in horror as Winston attacked Laszlo, blood on the baton, the same wicked smile on his face that she had grown to fear. “No! No, please Winston! Take me, I’ll go with you. Just please, don’t hurt him!”

Winston stopped, looking up at her, a look came over him, as he stepped over his victim and looked at her. “Why? Tell me why.” Gripping the back of her neck, forcing her closer to him, he jeered, “Tell me why I should spare him.”

“Because…” She hesitated. Would her words set him free, or damn him to a cruel death?

“Say it. I want to hear you say the words.”

“Because I love him. Because if you kill him, you kill me too.”

Laszlo weakly looked up at her, stunned by the words she just said. Was Sara telling the truth? Did truly hear what she said? Or was this just a cruel trick that his mind was playing on him?

Winston too was surprised, but it was not at all the happy kind. “Love? You could love him? An old cripple who can’t even fight back, who can’t protect you.” Winston dropped the baton to completely take hold of her, his grip tight like a vice. “Why not me? Why can you give your love to everyone else in this God forsaken world, but not me?”

If he intends to kill her here and now, she would at last let her truth be known. “How could I give love to someone whose sole purpose in life is to make everyone else miserable? Who has haunted me like a shadow that destroys all that is good and honest? Love you? I could never love anything so ugly and cruel.”

His face twisted in anger and a hand shot to her throat, squeezing just enough. “Ugly and cruel? You haven’t seen what ugly and cruel can be. And I’ll take your love, make you love me.” He slammed her down on the ground, his body pressed on top of her. “Even if I must break you to do it.”

Evelina struggled, even scratching his face at one point, creating a terrible sense of déjà vu, but just when she thought she was going to lose, she heard a loud thunk which caused her brother to cry out in pain and release her from his grip. Evelina’s eyes managed to focus properly and she saw Laszlo, bloody, beaten but standing with the baton in hand and ready to strike again. Winston’s daze left him unable to attack back, to which Laszlo used to his advantage.

Kicking him off of her, Laszlo stood over him the baton in hand and a dangerous look in his eye. “Leave her alone.” The words were slow, deliberate, like a man who was pushed to his limit and was on the verge of snapping.

Winston, who laid on his back, staring up at Laszlo, began to laugh. “Go ahead, cripple. Beat me. I know you want to. Be a man, prove to her that you deserve her.” He laughed, knowing he wouldn’t do it.

Laszlo stared down this man and he realized something. “As much as I would love to, I won’t end your suffering. I’ll let you live with this knowledge; you are pathetic. You’ve lived your entire life desperately needing people, but hating them for your supposed weakness. You are incapable of real love, and it leaves you empty. And I think you know that it does. I’ll let you live, knowing that you’ll never achieve what you’ve been chasing your whole life.”

Laszlo held the baton tightly, hobbling over to Evelina, leaning over to check on her, and with his back to Winston, he didn’t see the young man pull out a knife and come charging at him with the intention of killing him. But a loud bang prevented that from happening, making Evelina cry out in shock and for them both to look in Winston’s direction.

Police officers came rushing in, surrounding the area, with Roosevelt leading the way. Laszlo tried to help Evelina up, but his own bruised and broken body prevented him from doing so, making Evelina and another officer help him. “It’s about time you came,” Laszlo quipped, looking at Roosevelt, who looked relieved that they managed to make it on time.

“Yes, between Sara coming to the office and the manager phoning us about your strange behavior, we had to come. I am sorry though,” he says with sincerity, “That I hadn’t helped sooner.”

A weak moan came from Winston, making Evelina step closer and looked down at her brother’s dying body. The blood was pouring out quickly from him, and she knew he would not make it. “Evelina, sweetie…” He reached out his hand for her, hoping for one last comfort, confirmation of what he wanted to hear.

She stared at him coolly, shook her head and merely muttered, “Go to hell, Winston.”

He looked so broken, hurt, but she would not find it within herself to feel sorry for him, not all the fear and hurt he instilled in her through the years. He died looking at her, seeing her face cold and hateful, knowing he was unloved. His last breath made her breathe once again. Now, she can live without fear.

Her attention quickly shifted to Laszlo, who was relying upon an officer to hold him up, and she took his arm around her shoulders and helped him walk up to the surface. Memebers of the opera house watched in concern and worry as they seen Evelina walking out with a beaten Laszlo and officer along with them.

"Evelina, are you alright?"

"What happened?"

"Is there anything we can do?"

Ernest watched as they walked out, sighing a huge sigh of relief to see that they both were alright, that his call was not in vain.

The officer helped them to his carriage, and like a devoted lover, Evelina remained by Laszlo. Her brave and wonderful Laszlo who has saved her twice, who had been there for her and now, she could be there for him. Laszlo went back and forth out of consciousness, his eyes focused on Evelina, making sure she was alright. He tried to speak, but he felt so tired, so weak. Even if he died here in this carriage, even if he wouldn't make it long enough to apologize for his careless words, nothing mattered more than knowing that she was safe. Evelina was free.

Tagging: @monsieurbruhl, @cazzyimagines, @violetmuses, @flutterskies, @sokoviandelights, @rumblelibrary, @fictionlandslanddreams, and @barnesxnobles.

#the alienist #laszlo kreizler #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #fanfiction

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nalu4emily · 3 years

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The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 17

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Rated Mature.

"Hey, Flame head! Wait up!" Gray called over, catching the fire mage as he hurriedly made for the guild's exit. "Where're you going in such hurry?"

Turning to catch the ice mage walking straight for him, Natsu stopped to answer, "Home. I left Lucy and Haru asleep this morning, so I better get back to 'em."

"Oh... You've not been at the guild much lately, is everything cool with you?" The ice mage pushed further.

"Uh… Yeah! Been kinda busy and stuff, ya know." The slayer shrugged, not seeming too interested in divulging any further information.

"Well, are ya too busy to come on a mission? It's been some time since our last job together as a team." Gray asked, scratching the back of his head.

"It has been a while, now you mention it… I'd have to ask Lucy if she's feeling up to it yet, she's still not feeling too good… Anyway, catch ya later!" Natsu spoke cheerily and turned back towards the door, his hand reaching for the handle.

"Lucy's been sick for an awfully long time now, Natsu." He heard another voice say, halting him in his tracks, "Are you sure there's not something else going on?" Lisanna came up and elbowed him playfully in the arm.

"Hm?" He replied, retracting his arm back to his side.

"That's right! Lucy hasn't shown her face in months now. Has something happened? Are you guys having relationship issues?!" Levy gasped at the thought, her eyes wide with her mouth hung low.

"Relationship issues?" Natsu cocked his eyebrow in disdain; what kind of nonsense was that?

"I think you're getting a little carried away there, Shrimp. You've been reading too many books again." Gajeel teased, poking Levy's pouted cheek as he came up from behind. "And Lucy hasn't been gone that long… has she?"

"How suspicious… His beloved is sick and yet he's not with her!" Juvia murmured, appearing creepily behind Gray, making him shudder. "What is he hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything! You guys are looking way too much into this." Natsu lied, but for good reason.

The truth was a little more complicated than that. With Lucy being so unwell, she'd not been able to leave the confines of their house, having suffered greatly in the first months of her pregnancy. It'd been hard for the both of them, but Natsu had promised to look after her—to not leave her side, and he'd kept to his word. Having skipped out on job after job, and taking longer and longer breaks between each visit to the guild, it was only natural for their friends to worry and speculate, but it did put him right in the firing line.

He was wasting time. He had to get back to his partner and son, it wasn't fair to keep them waiting. The guild would get their long awaited answers when Lucy returned, which with any luck, would be very soon.

"Can I go now? I got things to take care of." Natsu huffed, starting to get frustrated with their incessant intrusiveness.

Trying to slip out from under the guilds snooping nose, the fire mage was beginning to question whether that was even an option any more, not with the amount of people now crowding him, wanting in on the action. He just hoped the great Titania didn't decide to intervene, then he'd be doomed.

"What things would that be then, Natsu? You're not usually this secretive." Lisanna hinted again, even more curious than before. "I thought you said you had to go home?"

"Just leave the kid alone, he's got his reasons." Laxus shrugged nonchalantly, pretending not to be interested, when really he'd heard everything.

"Yes, listen to Laxus!" Freed jumped in, also creepily appearing out of no where, making the lightning mage quiver. "Natsu doesn't need you all pestering him!"

Said boy sighed, glad to have someone on side and took the opportunity to make his leave—But things were never going to be that easy. The slayer found himself almost smacking his head against the thick, wooden door frame, utterly exasperated, when yet another of his guild mates decided to pipe up and add their two pennies worth.

"Yes, you're right. However, doesn't he usually have the kid with him? Why not today? So many questions that have yet to be answered. It makes you wonder really…" Evergreen chortled to the dubious guild members, hiding her conniving smirk behind her fan.

This was getting out of hand! They were just going 'round and around in circles and at this rate he would never leave. Being backed into a corner, he had no idea what was really going on. His guild mates were chucking all sorts of nonsensical bullshit at him.

Who knew what they were accusing him of? Because he sure as hell didn't know, and was pretty convinced now that they didn't either.

"I've already said Haru's at home with Lucy… The only reason I'm here, is to check in with Mira to make sure everything's ready for his party later. You know, for his birthday today." He explained once again, sighing loudly and slumping forward in despair. "I wasn't gonna bring him in early and spoil the surprise, now was I?"

He wouldn't have bothered with any of it, if it hadn't been for the take over mage and her desire to throw some massive party for the little boy, such was the way of Fairy Tail. But this time, Natsu would've much preferred to celebrate at home where Lucy could be present to enjoy it, too. However, Mira had made her own plans, having suddenly sprung the idea upon the unknowing young man one day in passing, and had given him little choice in the matter—his ultimatum much scarier than Erza could ever be.

"We're well aware of the little one's birthday celebrations today, Natsu." Erza's stern voice echoed through the hall, startling everyone into silence and swiftly marched herself right up to the slayer's retreating body. His heart raced as his worst fear became reality and felt a wave of dread as she approached at speed, her hardened features coming in way too close for his comfort. "However, that doesn't mean I'm any less suspicious of you."

"But why?! There's nothing to be suspicious about, I swear!" Holding his hands up in submission, the fire mage was stunned into silence; his mouth dropping open in disbelief; why were they all so hell bent on this? What even was this? He'd told them what he could; what more did they want? "Lucy and Haru are at home where I left them… What else do you want me to tell you?"

"So secretive and elusive… like you have something to hide. Have you no shame?" Ignoring Natsu's plea, the armoured girl had already come to her own conclusions and summoned one of her treasured swords to point directly at the slayer, her icy glare not the only thing threatening to pierce through him, "Our Natsu would never act like this! He's impulsive and reckless and just downright stupid! What have you done with the real one?"

The fire mage would've taken offence, had the red head not so angrily directed her sharp sword at the bridge of his nose. Narrowing his eyes at the sharp metal so close to him, he gulped thickly, praying to whatever god there was, that today of all days, Lucy might just walk through those big doors, saving him from the hell that was Erza Scarlet.

He shook in his sandals, showered in sweat as the red heads sword tip made contact with his skin, pushing his head right up against the wall, "B-But I am the real Natsu…"

"Then prove it! Explain yourself, now!" She was taking no shit from her fiery companion, not after convincing herself that he was, indeed, an imposter.

Desperate not to be on the receiving end of Erza's wrath, Natsu opened his mouth to speak, but just as quickly shut it again when the old guild doors suddenly creaked open. The sound of an infants voice followed by bickering between two others could be heard filling the loud silence, abruptly halting the interrogation of the defeated fire breather.

"See, Happy! I told you he'd be in here!" The young woman pointed, her eyes landing right on the dragon boy she'd been arguing with flying cat about, only realising moments later the presence of Erza's sword and every eyeball in the building staring unashamedly at her, "Uh… Am I interrupting something?"

"Lucy... you're here..." Natsu croaked in relief, never more glad to see his beautiful girlfriend as he sank to the floor. His voice cracking from the genuine fear the older girl had provoked in him, her sword now fully removed from his face. "My sweet saviour…"

"Uh-oh! Is Natsu in trouble again?" Happy giggled, glancing over at his pink haired friend, taking pity on his horror-stricken features.

"Lucy… You're alive?" Erza stated more than asked, stomping over to the young blonde to inspect her further.

"U-Uh…" The girl in question looked down at herself, confirming that she was definitely alive before looking back up again, confusion etched into her expression. "D-Do you want me to answer that?"

"Maybe you should lay off her a little; I'm sure Lucy's had it rough enough." Gray proclaimed bravely, unable to make eye contact with the unsettled knight.

"Please don't scare her off, not when she's only just returned!" Levy all but pushed Erza out of the way and threw herself at the blonde, who was now trying to balance the new weight along with the baby and herself. "I'm so happy to see you! I've missed you, Lu!"

"I've missed you too, Levy, but I'm sure Natsu's kept you updated." Lucy reassured her, then looked up to all of her other friends, "Hasn't he?"

"Natsu told us you hadn't been feeling well, but that's a suspiciously long illness Lucy, one I hope has a good explanation for making us all worry so much." Erza explained, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That's one long tummy bug!" Mira giggled, walking over to the ever growing group to stand near Lucy. "Anyone would think that you were p-" She paused, eyes growing wide with realisation and darted them down to the stellar mages midriff, before promptly fainting on the spot.

"Huh? Mira! Would think, what?! What were you going to say?!" Lisanna yelled, desperately trying to wake her sister up.

"Oh! I get it!" Gray understood, thinking back to the weird conversation he'd had with Natsu in the park and how it all made perfect sense now. "It definitely explains that idiots weird behaviour." He reached out to pat Lucy on the shoulder affectionately and smiled at her, then turned to smirk at said fire mage still recoiling on the ground. "So that's the way you wanna play? Game on, Pyro!"

Turning his head, Natsu smirked back, accepting the silent challenge as he jumped back up to his feet, looking cocky as ever, "You know it, Frosty!"

"Wait, what does Gray know? Is he a part of it too?" Levy gasped, pointing her accusatory finger at the demon slayer.

"Hell no!" Natsu and Gray yelled out in defence, both offended and totally disgusted by the very thought.

"Then what? What is going on here?" Cana shouted from her bench, having heard everything. "Quit with the suspense and just be out with it already!"

"Juvia understands." Out of the shadows, said water mage appeared before her once 'love rival' and smiled happily at the girl she was about to congratulate, "Juvia is so very happy for you both!" She looked down to her own rounded tummy and placed a hand on it, a noticeable difference in size to Lucy's, "They will be the best of friends, Juvia is sure of it."

Lucy's smile reached the corners of her eyes, relieved the rain woman didn't see this as another rivalry, like their partners apparently did, "Thanks Juvia, I'm sure they will be, despite what their father's might think." They both giggled at the expense of the boys gormlessly standing there, along with the rest of the guild, who still had no idea.

"Hold up! So, what does that mean? You're having a baby too, Lucy?" Lisanna asked, cradling her sisters limp body.

The guild's eyes fell to Lucy, more specifically her stomach where if they looked closely, they would see a small, but noticeable bump stretching out her pink summer dress. She could see the expectant faces of her friends waiting for her to answer, and the warm presence of her beloved dragon slayer come to stand next to her, obviously noticing her hesitancy.

"Natsu, I think you should tell them, I know you're dying to." She murmured, her voice quiet but firm.

"Are ya sure, Luce?" He asked, assuming she'd want to do it after all this time, but seeing the certainty in her eyes and the bright smile lifting her cheeks, he took her hand and turned back to the crowd, not needing any more confirmation than that. He glanced at each person in turn, a sense of pride filling his chest as the words left his mouth, "Heck yeah, we are!"

The entire guild erupted in a chorus of whistles and loud cheers, shaking the very foundations of the building in their excitement for the couple, "Oh, wow! Thanks guys! You're too kind!" Lucy's smile shone brighter than it had done in ages, overwhelmed with glee that their guild mates were so pleased for them.

"They've all been worried about ya, Luce." Natsu whispered closely so only she could hear and leaned in to kiss her cheek, knowing just how much this all meant to her. He took the excitable little guy off her hands, giving her the freedom to catch up with everybody.

"I knew it! I knew there was something fishy about you two! But congratulations guys, that's great news!" Levy cheered, ready to get down to the nitty gritty of every dirty detail.

"You had us worried there, Lucy. For a while, I thought you were never coming back!" Lisanna shared, hugging the celestial mage tightly, probably a little too tight.

"Oh… I'm sorry to have made you all worry, but I'm feeling much better now." The blonde explained, a light tint of pink dusting her cheeks from all the attention she was getting.

She could see Natsu hadn't moved too far away from her and tilted her head to look at him. Chuckling to herself, she could hear Erza try to apologise to him, suggesting the boy punch her right in the face for making such a mistake, a suggestion that was right up his alley, if it weren't for Haru in his arms.

Catching his beautiful blonde staring at him through the corner of his eye, he turned in her direction and winked, grinning as he held the little boy up on his shoulders to walk back over to her, "You feeling alright, Luce?" He asked, worried she may have forced herself into attending the celebrations before she was ready.

She nodded shyly, a little taken aback by the overwhelming attention she was receiving. Feeling his hand once again take hold of hers, she stared up into his confident eyes, then up to the child having the time of his life on his fathers shoulders, "I'm okay, but today's about Haru, not me, and I wasn't gonna miss this for the world." She grinned up at the small boy and reached up to stroke his cheek affectionately, chuckling at his enormous smile.

"You're right! Come on, Lucy! I wanna show you what we've done!" Natsu all but dragged the poor girl outside, Haru and Happy in tow, to show her the sheer amount of effort that had gone in to making Haru's first birthday, special.

The entire guilds courtyard had been lit up like a Christmas tree, with nothing left untouched. Banners and bunting of every colour hung from every post, table and tree. Tables upon tables of delicious food had been laid out with the most gargantuan home made birthday cake (courtesy of Mira) proudly sat in the middle of it all. An enormous pile of gifts had also been laid out, all individually wrapped with little cards to say whom they were from and most importantly, the pool had been filled with all kinds of fun inflatables and toys for all the children to play with.

Lucy looked around in amazement. She couldn't believe they'd gone to so much effort just for a one year old, a child that would unfortunately never remember this, but it didn't matter, she and Natsu would for him. "This is incredible, Natsu! I can't believe you did all this without me!"

"Don't sound too surprised; I can help organise things when I want to. And it wasn't all me, Mira came up with the idea." He looked up to the child above him and chuckled, "You like it, Haru?" The child had no idea what was going on, with no concept of birthdays or parties, he simply cheered anyway, responding to his Daddy's infectious grin, "Good! Well then Luce, let's get this party started!"

With his grin turning evil, he squeezed her hand tight and dived head first into the pool, with no consideration for his, Lucy's or Haru's clothing. She yelped at the top of her voice, her only reply a cackle before being submerged under water, thus setting the mood for the rest of the day.

After a full afternoon of playing with the other children, eating lots of cake and other treats, and opening presents, Haru found himself in the pool once again, this time in more appropriate attire for the water. A pair of cute little lion themed trunks (gifted by Loke), and a cute turtle inflatable ring adorning his middle (a present from Lisanna), made it much easier for him to stay above the surface while enjoying a swim in the water.

Natsu, in his usual flamed swim shorts, also found himself in the pool, diving under and popping back up in random places to surprise the little boy. Haru loved a good game of peek-a-boo, the anticipation of where his Daddy was going to pop up next was just too exhilarating. He squealed and laughed every time he resurfaced, then his eyes would grow wide in anticipation when he dived back down again.

"Gotcha!" Natsu exclaimed, appearing behind the little guy and grabbing his sides. "Does Haru want a go?" He asked, lifting him out of the rubber ring and holding him above the surface with just his hands, letting the infant tread the water to keep himself up, "Look at you! You'll be swimming in no time!"

Lucy watched on from her sun lounger, not remotely amused that the slayer had got her cute dress soaked, or that she now had to lay in just her pastel blue bikini, feeling somewhat self conscious with everyone staring at her exposed belly. She laid comfortably basking in the hot sunlight kissing her skin, trying to catch some semblance of a tan, relaxing while she could. She felt happy, content even, thankful that her symptoms had calmed down just in time for Haru's big day.

It'd been a long time since she'd been able to do this without having to run to the bathroom. With no spell or potion being strong enough to truly rid her of the awful feeling, she'd become well acquainted with the toilet in their house, having spent most of her time with her nose down it. It'd been hard over the last few months adapting to her changing body, her wild mood swings and questionable cravings, but she also knew it would be worth it in the end and it was on days like this, with her friends and loved ones surrounding her that she sincerely felt it.

Smiling to herself, Lucy placed her hand on her small, protruding stomach, feeling the tiny flutterings of the little one moving around inside, "You're an active little one today." She giggled, looking to be talking to herself by onlookers, but she didn't mind. "Then again, you're active everyday."

"Juvia's baby is quite active too, but he's closer to his due date than yours and is much bigger." Juvia said, coming to sit on the next lounger. She cradled her own, much larger bump that'd been covered by a flowy, light green summer dress, finding her regular clothes to form fitting and hot to wear now. "It's quite the feeling when he does somersaults in Juvia's belly."

"He? You're having a boy?" Lucy asked, intrigued to learn more and catch up with her friend.

"Yes, Porlyusica told us the last time we visited. Juvia always imagined she'd have a little boy, maybe watching Haru has something to do with that." She gleamed, looking over to the small fella splashing about in the pool still, having the time of his life with his father.

"I'm so pleased for you! I bet Gray was thrilled!" The blonde exclaimed, knowing he would be.

"Of course! Gray was very pleased. In fact, he made us go out and buy all the boys clothes we could find in the market afterwards. Then he took Juvia home and made-"

"No, it's okay… I don't think I need to know any more!" Lucy felt her cheeks burn red at the very thought.

"Made Juvia dinner…" The water mage finished, furrowing her brows at Lucy's assumption.

"O-Oh… Oops! Sorry Juvia, I thought you were going to say that you guys-"

"Made love? I think those hormones are getting the better of you, Lucy." Cana appeared, wagging her imaginary tail at the slightest mention of sex. "They say you get more horny when you're pregnant. I bet you and Natsu are at it all of the time? Actually, I'm kinda surprised he's not over here right now, with you looking all juicy like that!"

"Cana!" Lucy spluttered, her cheeks burning even more furiously. "You can't say things like that in public!" She didn't want to discuss her sex life in front of others, even if what they were saying was true—when she wasn't heaving of course.

"She's right though, Lucy. Juvia hasn't been unable to keep her hands off of Gray." The blue haired girl reaffirmed, her eyes like love hearts as she thought of her beloved Gray. "And Gray hasn't been able to keep his hands off Juvia, either."

"Wow, looking kinda smug there… You were like that any way…" Cana murmured, shaking her head at the love struck girl.

Well, there went Lucy's relaxing in silence, now she could barely keep from her head exploding—Good ol' Cana! "I don't wanna hear any more!" The celestial mage reiterated, covering her ears for emphasis.

"Oh, come on, Lucy! You're pregnant! That didn't happen by accident! You and Natsu knew exactly what you were doing." Cana retorted, moving herself closer to the flustered girl, her boozy breath permeating the air.

"U-Uh… Well… No, actually. It was kind of an accident…" Lucy admitted, feeling a little awkward by saying that out loud, her friends surprised faces not helping matters, "But it was a good accident!"

"Huh… And here I was thinking you were the cautious type, Lucy… Not that it matters. It's good to let the mood just take ya." Cana grinned, her shock forgotten.

"Don't look so ashamed Lucy, you'll both have another sweet baby to call your own and that's a wonderful thing. I imagine Natsu was over the moon when you both found out." Mira beamed her usual motherly smile as she came to sit near them all, having wanted to get the details on Lucy's pregnancy since earlier, "If Juvia's is a boy, then I bet yours is going to be a girl, Lucy."

"You think so?" The blonde asked back, never having actually considered what the sex would be before, but the thought of having a little girl join the family sounded rather appealing, especially in a house dominated by boys.

"Yes, with Haru as well, we need a little girl to make it more even. And she's gonna have the cutest pink hair and big brown eyes, I can just see it now!" Mira was off in a little world of her own, thinking of blue haired baby boys and pink haired baby girls—she was incorrigible.

"Boy or girl, I just hope that after living in a house full of ravenous beasts, this little one might be more like me. Haru's just a dark haired Natsu, he even laughs like him." Lucy placed her hand where she could feel the little movements of her baby and chuckled down, "But who am I kidding? You've already got your father's energy, that's for sure."

"Hey! Don't say that like it's a bad thing, Luce!" Natsu overheard as he appeared out of no where. "There's nothing wrong with having a mini-me, ain't that right, kid?" He hi-fived the now dry child in his arms, having already dried himself using his magic. "Who cares what they are or who they look like? You'll be in there somewhere, Luce; you're their mother, after all."

"Yeah, you're right." She said, always fascinated by Natsu's simplistic, yet logical way of thinking.

"Any way, it's getting kinda late, I was gonna take Haru somewhere a bit more quiet," Natsu gestured to the current brawl taking place behind him.

"Leaving so soon?" Mira asked, standing to say goodbye to the grizzly birthday boy.

"Yeah, he's all pooped out from the busy day he's had and I think he's ready to go to sleep now. Thanks for organising it, Mira!" He said, before turning swiftly to Lucy, "You coming?"

The bikini clad girl jumped to her feet and stretched her arms up, feeling the tiredness begin to set in, completely unaware of her partners roaming gaze, "Yeah, sure... Just let me put my dress-"

"Lucy! Watch out!" She heard Natsu shout suddenly as she bent to grab the item of clothing.

Feeling herself being pushed back onto the sun lounger, she flailed and reached her arms out to catch herself. Darting her eyes up to see what was going on, she was met with the exposed back of the dragon slayer that had moved to shield her from something. Smoke clouded him and the infant; an unfamiliar heat emanated off of his body. The girl hadn't seen what'd happened, or what she'd been saved from, but if the harsh, heavy breathing of the man in front of her was anything to go by, it was a close call.

"Natsu…" She started, but stalled there after, unsure of what more to say to him.

"What the heck do you think you're doing, you old geezer! Do you have any idea what could've happened just then?!" Natsu bellowed, his voice teeming with rage as his eyes narrowed at the culprit. "You're lucky I was here to catch your stupid attack, or that would've gone straight for Lucy!"

The brawl had come to a complete stand still and Macao, the one that'd thrown a fire ball initially at Wakaba, had gone ghostly pale as the dragon slayer's piercing gaze stared him down. "Hey man, I'm sorry… I didn't even know she was there, it was an accident!" He held his hands up in submission, not wanting to enter into a fight with the maddened slayer, knowing that was one he'd never win. "We got a little carried away, that's all."

"Oh yeah? Maybe I should go all out and see how you like it? Try and dodge this one!" Natsu roared, sending a blazing ball of fury of his own hurtling through the air, aiming it right at Macao's cowering body. Turning hotfooted back to Lucy, the distant cries of the offender being struck by his magic was like music to his ears, his anger satiated.

"Are you hurt, Luce? Did anything hit you?" He did a full search of her body, checking for any kind of injury. His worried eyes eventually fell upon her exposed belly and instinctually brought his hand out to caress it softly, "Is the baby okay?"

Smiling up at him, she brought her own hand to rest on his cheek and pulled him closer, loving just how protective he could be, "Of course, our baby's fine. No need to worry." She guided his palm to where the little one was doing somersaults and allowed him to feel the light pads against his skin.

Unable to keep his infectious grin down for long, he pushed his mouth hastily against Lucy's in a kiss that turned heated all too quickly. Buzzing with adrenaline from the incident, Natsu moved his hand from her belly and tangled his fingers into her hair, holding her in place as he enjoyed the taste of her warm lips.

"That's it, fire breath, you took it too far this time!" He heard Gray shout from behind him, knocking him out of his 'Lucy' trance and pull away, glancing over his shoulder, "Look at what you've done to the pool, you dumbass!" The ice mage pointed to the steaming pit that was once the guilds pool, fuming at the state of it.

"Ha! Looks like you and Juvia are gonna have a fun time filling that back up!" Natsu guffawed, passing the fidgety Haru to Lucy.

"Screw you, Pinky! You're going down!" Gray threatened, launching himself at the fire wizard and starting yet another brawl.

Rolling her eyes, Lucy looked down at the sleepy boy rubbing his tired eyes, and decided to creep away from the fight that just seemed to be attracting more and more people, "Come on then, sweetheart. It looks like Daddy's got himself distracted again." She chuckled, disappearing back inside before anyone had noticed she was gone.

By the time the evening swept in, Lucy had found herself a quiet spot up on a small hill a little ways from the guild, overlooking the lake behind it. She sat cosily against one of the many old oak trees, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the baby laid across her chest, begrudgingly, but slowly falling asleep. She hummed her sweet lullaby to soothe her tuckered out child, hoping to coax him into closing his eyes.

It was moments like this that she cherished the most with Haru, just her and him with no one to interrupt. The atmosphere was peaceful and calm, exactly what she was looking for compared to the ruckus that was the guild's 'after' party that continued on down the street. She could even hear the rumble of their antics from where she sat, but luckily, it was pretty muffled, unable to spoil her quietude.

After weeks of staying at home, it sure made a pleasant change to be watching the sunset instead. She'd grown tired and achy after such a busy day, her feet were sore and her head had grown weary, but still she watched contented as the beautiful evening began to fade.

The young mother could finally hear the soft, even breaths of the slumbering child and gently placed him upon her bent up legs, covering him with her blanket to keep him from feeling the chill in the air. Staring at his little angelic features, she found it hard to fathom how drastically her life had changed compared to just twelve months before. She'd grown so much as a person and gained everything she'd ever wanted and more, making new memories along the way.

She and Natsu had unknowingly plunged themselves into a completely new world, taking on the responsibility of an abandoned child and calling him their own. Haru had opened their eyes to a life they never thought they'd get to experience, especially not with each other. The little boy had brought them together in a way that would forever bind them, creating the family unit they were today. It only seemed fitting to name this day as Haru's official birthday, for it was the day his life, and theirs, had begun anew.

Leaning her head back against the tree, becoming lost in her memories, her eyelids began to close, a wave of exhaustion rushing over her while sleep tempted her in. A rustle of a nearby bush was quick to quash that feeling though, as a startled Lucy snapped her eyes wide open and darted her head over to where the sound had come from.

"Oh, Natsu… It's just you…" She breathed, laying her bleary eyes onto that familiar toothy grin and untameable pink hair, a scaly, white scarf to match. "Tell me, what were you doing hiding in the bushes?"

"Looking for you." He said simply, walking out onto the hillside to join her, having deliberately left out the part that he'd been hiding there for much longer than he'd care to admit. In fact, one might say he'd been there the entire time, watching the beauty that was Lucy quietly sing their son to sleep and hadn't wanted to disturb her until she'd finished. "You left, so I had to come find ya."

"Oh, you didn't have to. I just wanted to settle Haru before he started getting grumpy. It's nice and quiet out here." Her voice sounded airy and light, her eyes half lidded and a little bloodshot. "You can go back and join the others if you want, I'm okay." She offered, but Natsu knew better than that, he always did.

"You don't have to pretend for me, Lucy. I can see how tired you are." He'd learnt pretty quickly in the past few months that pregnancy didn't just make her exceptionally sick, but that it had an array of different symptoms, some physical and others emotional, but all unpleasant and incredibly draining for her. "Why would I leave any way, you're all out here?"

"Happy's not."

"Yeah, and Happy's capable of looking after himself. He's too interested in Carla to notice we're even gone. You know what he's like." Natsu explained, scooting closer to Lucy to take the infant from her legs.

He set the baby down in his lap to keep him warm, the fluffy blanket tightly swaddling his body. The two mages cuddled up to one another, watching the twinkling stars come out to glimmer and shine down onto the glistening water in the distance.

"It's crazy to think it's been an entire year since we brought him home. Who knows where we'd be without him here?" Lucy reminisced, her gaze drifting from the moonlit lake, to the baby snoring peacefully without a single care in the world. "Or where his life might've gone, if we hadn't taken him in."

"We'd be what we always were," Natsu stated bluntly, tearing his own gaze away to look at the girl beside him, "Best friends, going on adventures and honestly, that's kinda the sad truth of it all. As for Haru…" He glanced down at his cuddled up son, smiling sadly as he remembered the first time he ever set eyes on the tiny, lifeless baby, that fateful day, "I made a promise to keep him safe; to make sure he lived… He was always going to come with me, there was never another choice. I just didn't know it then."

"And I'll be forever grateful that he did, because..." Lucy cleared her throat, feeling a little emotional at the thought, "Now, I have you and him! And nothing has ever made me happier! Choosing to adopt a child was the most daunting thing I've ever done, but it's proven to be the best decision I've ever made, one I'll always be thankful for." She gave her own toothy smile, a slight tint of pink dusting her cheeks as she poured her heart out to him.

Natsu felt his heart squeeze tight, her words reminiscent of his own feelings and quirked his lips up at her. Reaching his hand forward, he smoothed his fingers through her golden locks, before coming to rest it under her ear, guiding her to him, "Me too, Luce. Which is why…"

Lucy's breathing deepened the closer she got and felt his other hand come up to hold hers tenderly, paying no mind to him fiddling with her fingers, "Which is why, what? Is there something else?" She asked, cocking her head cutely as their breaths began to mingle. "Natsu?" Her eyes fluttered between his dark ones, waiting expectantly for him to finish.

"I… I wanna ask you something." He murmured just before claiming her mouth, connecting their lips in a kiss so sickly sweet, it made Lucy's belly fill with butterflies.

She could have melted into a puddle right then and there, the feel of his affections always had a way of making her turn to goo in his hands. Her spine shivered and the adrenaline buzzed through her system, not having the capacity to comprehend the words that'd been spoken, for her mind had been taken over by the feel of his hot mouth. Letting go of her hand, he snaked his fingers up to the other side of her neck and pulled her closer, craving those sweet cherry lips that he liked to nip at with his teeth.

Her fingers were now free to roam and touch as they pleased, tangling them up through his hair and tugging on the pink strands at the base of his neck. Desperate for breath, she pulled herself away and gazed into his half lidded eyes for mere seconds, before he impatiently delve down to ravish her neck. The sucking and biting just under her ear caused small gasps and whimpers to escape the increasingly aroused celestial mage, her eyes fogging with lust, until something bright caught her attention.

"What was that?" She asked panting, her voice raspy as she tried to catch sight of whatever it was again. It had flickered like a light, shined like a reflection and sparkled all at once, making her wonder if she'd really seen anything at all.

"What was what, Lucy?" He asked her, not meaning to sound quite so unsurprised, when usually he was the first to go looking for trouble.

"I thought I saw…" She didn't really know what she'd seen, her mind too muddled from the heated moment they were having; maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks? Or worse… someone was spying on them.

Natsu clasped at the hand she had buried in his hair and brought it into view, "Was it this, maybe?" He asked, drawing attention to one specific digit.

Feeling the contrast between his warm skin and the cold hardness of something else against her finger, Lucy peered down in curiosity, her breath stalling when her eyes laid upon the object of confusion. Gasping loudly, she clasped at her mouth, two enlarged chocolate orbs flickered between him and her hand in utter astonishment. Somehow, in the midst of their make out session, Natsu had managed to band the most simplistic, yet beautiful ring onto her finger, where it sat proudly and spoke of untold intentions.

"It's… I-It's beautiful! B-But how did you- When-" She stuttered, too lost in what this all might mean, searching deep within his dark eyes for the answers to her silent, but obvious questions.

"That's the right finger, isn't it?" He asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous, a small pink hue dabbing his cheeks. His heart was beating much quicker than he would've liked, hoping he hadn't screwed up already.

That was all she needed to hear to confirm her suspicions, her brown eyes wet with unshed tears, "N-Natsu, I… I don't know what to say-" She couldn't speak, this was too much and he'd not said anything yet.

"Lucy…" He spoke with every sincerity, taking the ringed hand and entwined their fingers. "I'm not so good with this stuff, but I know that getting married is important to you, which makes it important to me, too. I promised you forever and I guess you could say, this is me making good on that promise." He caressed her soft cheek with his thumb and smiled when he saw the glint in her eyes shine back at him. "So, what do you say? Prepared to commit yourself to this," he gestured to himself and winked playfully, "For the rest of your life?"

Finding herself unable to keep her emotions in check, the girl didn't answer, but instead, launched herself at him, giving him barely any time to move the slumbering child out of the way and brace for impact. Landing on top of the winded dragon slayer, she managed to catch herself with her hands and gleamed down at him, tears falling from her eyes and the smile on her face rivalling his. She leant down and connected their lips once again, taking the lead this time, unable to keep her happiness from pouring out.

To the side, still held in Natsu's opened out arm, was Haru, completely unaware of what was going down, his dreams taking him to far off places. His developing sibling in his Mommy's tummy, however, didn't seem quite so pleased, having been wedged between the two loved up adults as they made out under the sea of stars, had decided to take matters into their own hands. With one almighty kick, the kiss came to a quick halt when Lucy groaned and pulled back, grabbing hold of her bump to sooth the sore area.

"Jeez! Was that the baby kicking you? 'Cause even I felt that one!" Natsu looked surprised, amazed that their baby was so strong, at just five months, that he'd been able to feel the force of the kick against his own abdomen. "Is it still hurting, Luce? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it just shocked me, that's all. They've never been quite that strong before." She chuckled, sitting herself up and straddling his hips as she looked down to her belly, gently caressing it with her thumb, "You were just trying to tell Mommy to move, weren't you?"

Balancing himself up onto his elbow, Natsu also placed his hand on top of Lucy's bump and smirked, "Or maybe, they were just tryin' to get their Mommy to say yes."

"Like you needed an answer!" Quirking her eyebrow up at his smirk, she shifted back a little as he sat himself up against the tree, laying Haru gently next to them while Lucy remained in place, "But you haven't actually asked me anything yet. Who knows what I could be agreeing to? This is you, after all."

The young man chuckled and grinned his thousand watt smile, knowing she'd catch him out eventually, "Alright, have it your way." The mischievous look on his face didn't disappear, even when he tried to take it seriously, "Will you marry me, Lucy?"

She returned his beaming smile with one of her own, glad to have heard it come from his mouth and nodded her head enthusiastically, "Of course, Natsu, the answer was always a yes."

"Good. Can I go back to kissing you now?" He asked, but didn't bother waiting for a reply and went to pull that enticing mouth back in for a third kiss, hoping this time there'd be no more interruptions in the forms of sparkling rings or unimpressed unborn babies.

But just as their lips were about to touch, Lucy paused ever so tantalisingly close to him and furrowed her brows, causing the boy to sigh impatiently, "What is it now?"

"Have you been holding on to that ring all day?" She enquired, only realising now that he must've got it from somewhere.

"Nah, not all day, just the party. I had to ask Happy to go and get it for me while you were distracted with Haru." Natsu explained, scratching the back of his head, "I was gonna do it myself, but stuff happened and then you suddenly showed up."

"Stuff… happened?" Now she was even more curious; what could've gone on in her absence?

"Yeah… them." He shivered still traumatised, pointing over to where Fairy Tail's guild hall stood, still alive and partying, and Lucy understood immediately just what he was referring to, giving her an insight into what she'd unsuspectingly walked in on earlier that day. "So, I had to change up my plans."

"Oh! Why didn't you just do it tomorrow instead? Rather than make it difficult for yourself." She asked, feeling a little smug when she saw the light go on in his brain.

She'd stumped him there. Always the brains of the operation, he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that. He'd wanted to do it on a day that meant something to the both of them, but really, did it matter? The result would've been the same.

Noticing her cocky smirk and the playfulness in her eyes, he rose to the challenge, a fire in his belly, "Because, Miss Know-it-all, today was special, just like you said… And it wasn't difficult… I had it all under control…"

"Uh-huh…" She watched him become a little fidgety as if he weren't quite telling the truth and her smirk widened into a smug, toothy grin, "So you were just pretending to be scared when Erza was threatening you? I get it."

His eyes were sharp and intense, just like they were in battle, the one sided grin to boot as he bore into her playful expression, "Your playing with fire, Lucy…" His voice dangerous and brimming with cockiness.

"Then let it burn." She whispered close to his ear, barely able to get the words out before she found herself being forced onto her back, her hands held down above her head, with a fired up dragon slayer carefully leant over her form.

"You asked for it!" He growled, gulping down a large breath as he connected his mouth to the sensitive skin of her neck, torturing her senses with his loving but fierce embrace.

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crow-in-a-teapot · 3 years

Text

tower of nero spoilers

i have just finished the tower of nero. and before i go searching for other people’s thoughts and art and more of the characters i love so much, i want to write down some of my own thoughts because i know as soon as i delve into that ‘ton spoilers’ hashtag there are going to be complaints and criticisms and so much that i don’t want to hear, or essays that’ll make me upset, or things that’ll change my perception on the book (because on this website people really love to hate the trials of apollo).

i want to start with: i loved it. it didn’t feel earth-shattering or huge and momentous like some of my favourite riordanverse books (house of hades, the blood of olympus, the last olympian and maybe some of the magnus chase books take those pedestals for me) but it was satisfying. and i think it was satisfying because it in no way felt like an ending. whether because eventually rick will write that will-and-nico-go-through-tartarus-and-save-bob novella, or because we (or at least i) will continue writing and imagining and creating for this world i don’t know. he didn’t wrap up the story in a perfect little bow like ‘nineteen years later’, he simply put it on pause. gave us a glimpse of where every character was at at the end.

the only thing that makes me so angry and upset is that i did manage to get some spoilers for moments that i know would have been so good to experience for the first time if i hadn’t been spoiled for them. the moment where rachel mentions penguins in a mansion near her house, nico getting mental health advice from mr d, the fact that will and nico were going to be in the book for so much of the story, but the big thing was literally spoiled for me two days ago, it was the reason i sat down to read it as fast as possible because i was terrified of getting more spoiled and not being able to experience the moments for myself, was that piper had a girlfriend. i know that reading that for the first time would have been so cool and surprising, and the fact that when it came up for a moment in the last couple pages all i felt was disappointment because it was spoiled for me and because it was now tinged with whatever that person was saying about her having a girlfriend.

but i still had some warm fuzzy moments, the two parts where apollo thinks he’s going to die but nico comes up behind him - so good. impeccable.

Leader Guy spat. ‘Now, I kill you.’

He raised his sword... and froze. His face turned pale. His skin began to shrivel. His beard fell out whisker by whisker like dead pine needles. Finally, his skin crumbled away, along with his clothes and flesh, until Leader Guy was nothing but a bleached-white skeleton, holding a sword in his bony hands.

Standing behind him, his hand on the skeleton’s shoulder, was Nico di Angelo.

and

Nero raised his hand, ready to give the kill command, when behind me a mighty BOOM! shook the chamber. Half our enemies were thrown off their feet. Cracks sprouted in the windowsand the marble columns. Ceiling tiles broke, raining dust like split bags of flour.

I turned to see the impenetrable blast doors lying twisted and broken, a strangely emaciated red bull standing in the breach. Behind it stood Nico di Angelo.

gods. poetic brilliance. i can’t believe i’m still a nico di angelo stannie in the year 2021. in five years i have not changed (ever since the tv show announcement last summer i have managed to morph into myself from 2017)

from here i’m not sure where to go next i kind of want to go through everything, except it’ll be more difficult than my tyrant’s tomb reaction because i wasn’t reading on a kindle and thus can’t just do funny little reactions to screenshots of quotes, so i’ll just skim through the book page by page and see what i can comment on (i’m not planning on doing analysis today, no thank you, just enjoying the end of my childhood and trying to squeeze as much out of it as possible)

i have an emotional attachment to mr. snake from the very first chapter, and am very upset that he’ll never get off on his baltimore stop and get to see his wife, lu had no reason to shoot and kill him like that.

that brings me to lu, i liked her, it was interesting to see how rick kind of brought in not only the overarching theme of abuse, but also people who let the abuse happen, i have more i could say on this i’m too lazy to right now, and i promised no analysis - or the fact that Lu had conspired to make the show non-lethal to spare Meg’s feelings rather than - oh, I don’t know - refusing to do Nero’s dirty work in the first place and getting Meg out of that house of horrors.

And are you any better? taunted a small voice in my brain. How many times have you stood up to Zeus?

Okay, small voice. Fair point. Tyrants are not easy to opppose or walk away from, especially when you depend on them for everything.

the parallels to meg and lester heading to percy’s apartment, and then to camp half blood to the hidden oracle was so cool to read, every callback to the hidden oracle just there to remind us readers exactly how far apollo has come and how he’s changed; the entire chapter with sally, paul and estelle just felt sickly sweet, it just didn’t seem real how wholesome and good that family is, like i get why apollo broke down and just sobbed in that shower.

also rick really saying acab again in toa, i thought he was done after that elf cop chapter in magnus chase (the magnus chase series is a masterpiece) but apparently not, with A ‘good cop’ is still a cop... still a part of the mind game.

the grey sisters, i forgot about them completely but this threw me back into was it the sea of monsters when annabeth summoned them? i’m not sure, it could have been the lightning thief either, they really remind me of the disney hercules movie. the whole ganymede paragraph was gold, i love gods being canonically confirmed lgbt in the riordanverse. i also love the whole eye-tossing part -

‘He will crush our eye,’ Anger cried, ‘if we don’t recite our verses!’

‘I will not!’

‘We will all die!’ Wasp said. ‘He is crazy!’

‘I AM NOT!’

‘Fine, you win!’ Tempest howled.

also, the explanation for why dionysus chooses to look the way he does was perfect, because it was something i often wondered about and wasn’t expecting to get an explanation for, and i imagine the whole mythological dionysus to look like.. well like a more feminine apollo i guess, beautiful in a gender non-comforming way.

Other Olympians could never comprehend why Dionysus chose this form when he could look like anything he wanted. In ancient times, he’d been famous for his youthful beauty that defied gender.

...

In retaliation, Dionysus had decided to look and act as ungodly as possible. He was like a child refusing to tuck in his shirt, comb his hair or brush his teeth, just to show his parents how little he cared.

every scene with nico at camp just BREAKS ME, i would throw in screenshots of every damn quote but unfortunately, as said above, cannot and would rather not type every one; we’ll start with, obviously apollo confirming to him that jason is dead.

He didn’t look angry exactly. He looked as if he’d been hit in the gut not just once but so many times over the course of so many years that he was beginning to lose perspective on what it meant to be in pain. He swayed on his feet. He blinked. Then he flinched, jerking his hands away from Meg’s as if he’d just remembered his own touch was poison.

ugh then will talking about how nico’s doing, confirming that he’s suffering with ptsd, mr d giving him advice, helping him sort though what voices in his head are real and which ones aren’t, then the paragraph that just recounts every horrific thing poor nico has been through, how will has to reassure him that he’s okay and ‘with friends’ when he wakes up after shadow travel

will’s kindness to apollo, buying him clothes, and apollo finding seymour the leopard’s head in his bed, put there by mr d aaaa AAAA A A A A A THE ORDINARY, EVERYDAY CAMP HALF BLOOD THINGS..

i could go on for years and years about how much i appreciate rachel having a big role in this book, and the visit to her apartment, everything, her art, the fact that she got what she wanted, she’s going to PARIS to study ART, she isn’t forced to be someone she’s not by her dad, and gets to be a big part of a demigod mission and not stand on the sidelines for once.

i love that her landscapes are still visions, that she still paints the quests demigods go on - the burning maze, jason’s funeral pyre, caligula’s ships; and how nico ~appreciates art~

‘And, hey, di Angelo -’ she pushed him playfully away from the canvas he’d been ogling - ‘don’t brush against the art! I don’t care about the paintings, but if you get any colour on you, you’ll ruin that whole black-and-white aesthetic you’ve got going.’

i. love. rachel.

WILL GLOWS!! THE HEADCANONS FROM LIKE FIVE YEARS AGO THAT YOU’D SEE FLOATING AROUND ABOUT HIM MANIPULATING LIGHT!! CONFIRMED!! CANON!! AMAZING

I AM OBSESSED WITH THE TROGS, I LOVE THEM, THEY ARE GREAT, not gonna lie, i was expecting something more dramatic and spooky with how worried will was and how dionysus was going.. visiting the cavern-runners isn’t ♫ good for your mental health ♫ but the little hat frog gremlins were a good addition. i like them very much and their funky little soup shenanigans. quoting the ghost king himself: trogs good. nice hats. (IM SORRY I KEEP MENTIONING HIM BUT I JUST) also how apollo starts wishing for breadsticks a s ajoke and theY STRAIGHT UP HAVE BREADSTICKS? HUH? WHERE DID THEY GET THE BREADSTICKS FROM??

yeah, i’m also still very much upset by every mention of jason grace, it’s funny how ever since his death in the burning maze i have grown to love him more and more and that’s not fun for me, for that boy to become one of my main comfort character’s and have his death and sacrifice and nobility mentioned every few chapters. i’m pretty sure i cried when he appeared to talk in apollo’s dreams, and this time the tears weren’t from the effort of keeping my eyes open and working for hours straight reading this book (i remember staying up until 2am to finish the sequel to beautiful, broken things, it was very much worth it)

‘All right, Jason. We miss you, though.’

ALSO. THE FACT THAT THIS KID. THIS CHILD. HAD TO THINK ‘BUT IF A HERO ISN’T READY TO LOSE EVERYTHING FOR A GREATER CAUSE, IS THAT PERSON REALLY A HERO?’ A KID ISN’T SUPPOSED TO THINK ABOUT THAT AND BE READY TO SACRIFICE THEMSELVES FOR THE GREATER GOOD,, i,, ugh,, he’s supposed to be finishing school and designing temples not being the perfect hero and soldier,, spain without the s,,

as @couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name said: ‘thinking about how ghost! Jason didn’t seem to understand why Apollo was so upset about his death because he’s been raised to believe a hero’s sacrifice is noble and his life doesn’t matter in the grand scheme and also if he doesn’t understand why the person who watched him get horrifically killed is so torn up over his death he probably doesn’t even realize his other friends are grieving him..’

IM SO UPSET THE ARROW OF DODONA IS DEAD D: IT WAS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS ALL THE FUNNIEST MOMENTS WERE BECAUSE OF THAT ARROW AND IT'S DEATH WAS SO SAD WTH LIKE WE FIND OUT HOW USELESS THE ARROW FELT AND HOW THE GROVE OF DODONA ALL THOUGHT IT WOULD BE CRAP AND WOULD FAIL APOLLO AND THEN ONCE WE FEEL BAD FOR IT, IT DIES??

the entire python battle was pretty grim, there is a part of me that's like because this is the last book series i would have loved say the magnus chase and kane chronicles gang in a giant battle with everyone like the battle of manhattan but even more dramatic, but even so, i did appreciate that python battle and the whole almost-falling-into-the-depths-of-tartarus thing.

him talking to artemis was cool, but JESUS: 'I turned and strode out of my room, trying to recall how the god Apollo walked.' like that HURTS. it was such a huge culture shock for apollo to go throught this huge character arc and be so human and understand the pain of others, to be around gods again who are so.. apathetic. also, zeus. 'Interesting how he put that: I had done him proud. I had been useful in making him look good. My heart did not melt. I did not feel that this was a warm-and-fuzzy reconciliation with my father. Let's be honest: some fathers don't deserve that. Some aren't capable of it.'

OKAY OKAY SO THE END?? CHIRON TALKING TO A CAT (BAST) AND A SEVERED HEAD (MIMIR) ABOUT SHARED PROBLEMS WITHIN THE PANTHEONS!! WILL AND NICO RECEIVING A PROPHECY FROM RACHEL TO GO TO TARTARUS AND SAVE BOB!! THE HUNTERS OF ARTEMIS, INCLUDING THALIA AND REYNA BEING BEST FRIENDS (qpr.. qpr..) HUNTING THE TEUMESSIAN FOX!! PERCY, ANNABETH AND GROVER, THE ORIGINAL TRIO, GOING ON A CHAOTIC ROAD TRIP TOGETHER!! - SO MANY STAND-ALONE SET -UPS PFSJSJSJ

okay quick word on the reunions at the end: funny little elephant visitation program with livia and hannibal. love that for them. calypso and leo's relationship seems rocky and complicated, but that's to be expected, i think even if they do get properly back together again it might not last long, because it does pretty much feel like a teenage relationship where the two aren't very compatible, but we'll see. hazel and frank are so funny with their gold plated necklaces. lavinia - tap-dance icon. almost cried at the mention of jason's temple-extension plan again. percy not being sure about what he wants to do in college is accurate and i like that that's left to be up-for-interpretation (rick does THE MOST for the fanfic writers pfsjsj). i am OBSESSED with aeithales, like i hate deserts so the burning maze setting is not my favourite but GOD that HOUSE, the vibes are off-the-charts. i'd love a house made of living trees that's also a greenhouse filled with dryads. meg gets a unicorn. that is so great.

i kind of wish the book hadn't ended with 'Call on me. I will be there for you.' because every time I imagine the friends theme song and i don't think that's the vibe he was going for, BUT i do love him talking to meg, that was genuinely emotional - 'You'll come back?' she asked. 'Always,' I promised. 'The sun always comes back.' ; i really wish it had ended with that, but i guess apollo does tend to break fourth walls and talk to the readers, like a lot of the protagonists of riordanverse books.

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chaoticpuff17 · 4 years

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A Dangerous Game

part 31

masterlist

Hello my darlings! We are winding down. This is the second to last before we’re done, not including the epilogue. I’m honestly so sad for this to be almost done, but so excited to start on Something Wicked. Enjoy, my loves!!--- chaotic puff

To say that the atmosphere around the estate was frosty the next day would have been an understatement. It was positively glacial. She wouldn’t even look at him, and Namjoon knew rather immediately that he had fucked up.

“Jagi.” He tried gently taking her arm to turn her to look at him only to be met with a solid slap across the cheek with enough force behind it to turn his head.

“You do not touch me. You never touch me without my permission.” She hissed her eyes blazing even though her voice was shaking.

“Jagi.” He tried again taking a step back to give her space. “Jagi, please.” He pleaded his eyes soft and contrite as he looked at her.

“No!” She yelled taking another step back closer to Jungkook who was tense, holding himself as taunt as a bowstring was waiting to jump in as soon as she needed him. He loved his hyung, but anyone with eyes could see something was very, very wrong. “Don’t.”

“Noona.” He whispered gently touching her shoulder flinching with her when she flinched back at the sensation only to relax when she realized who it was melting back into the familiar protection of his presence. Jungkook was safe. Jungkook could protect her.

“Y/N, please let me talk to you.” Namjoon pleaded in physical pain as she flinched back from him and into the protection of another man’s arms.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Please, jagi.” He begged eyes soft and pleading. “Jagiya, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“You’ve done enough.” She hissed turning on her heel and leaving the dining room. She turned at the door to face him again, leveling him with a cold glare. “I’ll be moving my things back to the other room.” She swept out of the room Jungkook following closely behind her.

And Namjoon couldn’t even argue with that.

The stony silence between the two of them continued until the Christmas party. Y/N would not let him near let alone let him touch her, but the Christmas party was one obligation that he couldn’t allow her to shirk. She was expected to attend as his wife. She had yet to move back to the master bedroom, and she had no plans to do so any time soon. Namjoon was living with the consequences of his actions and this was one of them.

She hadn’t even let him near here when she’d gotten sick repeatedly, day after day. Jungkook reported that she was suffering from night terrors. Jin said it was because of the stress, and Namjoon couldn’t have felt worse. It was his fault. He’d taken things too far, and now she wouldn’t look at him. It was killing him inside.

Anything she said to him was cold and clipped. All the progress he had made, months of work, was gone in an instant, ruined in a night. He tiptoed around the estate looking like a kicked puppy trying to find an opportunity to talk to her, but she was adamant in her avoidance, the queen of the cold shoulder. It seemed to him that her ire was endless, and he couldn’t even blame her for it. He’d done something unforgiveable.

The worst of it was on the drive over to the party. He had to give the jewelry for her ensemble to Jungkook to deliver to her. He wasn’t allowed past the threshold of that room, and even Moni, his dog, had taken to growling at him when he tried to enter the room.

She sat next to him during the drive bundled up in her coat and gloves staring out the window. He hadn’t seen her in the full outfit yet. She’d come down the stairs bundled up in her coat and gloves hair neatly tied back and her expression glacial as she breezed past him to the car. She didn’t say a word to him the entire time.

“Y/N…” He began trying to start conversation though he wasn’t sure that she would allow it.

“Let’s just get through tonight.”

“Y/N.”

“No. We’ll get through tonight. That’s all that I promised.” She sighed picking imaginary lint off her coat.

“Y/N, we need to talk.” He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. It had been two weeks of this. He missed the sound of her voice. He missed talking to her. He’d even settle for her yelling at him.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“We have a great deal to talk about.”

A small bitter smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. “Do you think talking is going to make this better?” She asked turning her gaze to him for the first time in weeks.

“I know it’s not.”

“Did you or did you not promise me when you first took me that you would never touch me without my permission?” She hissed head cocked to the side curiously. “I thought we promised not to lie to each other.”

“We did.”

“Then I’m imagining what happened? Because the great RM would never break his word?”

“Y/N… jagi…”

She threw back her head laughing the sound breaking through the thick tension filling the car. “Do you really think there’s anything you can say that will make this better? You’d think that I’d be used to this by now, but I guess I never learn.”

Namjoon froze letting the reality of those words sink in along with the horror they brought with them. He stared at her eyes wide. “Jagi… I’m…. I’m sorry, jagi…”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it.”

“Jagi…” He reached over to take her hand, but she snatched it back throwing him a harsh glare.

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Where’s Y/N?” Hoseok asked scanning the area for the woman that was missing from Namjoon’s side.

“She wasn’t feeling well. Got sick in the car. I had the driver take her home to rest.” He explained sipping at a scotch. “I tried to talk to her.” He began scowling down into his cup.

“And?” the other man asked curiously.

“She said she didn’t want to talk, that nothing could make it better, and then she got sick.” He sighed expression gloomy.

“Lighten up. She’ll come around eventually.” Hoseok patted his shoulder sympathetically. “You have all the time in the world. It’s not like she’s going anywhere.”

“We’re back to square one. Worse than square one.” He groaned placing his glass on a passing tray. “It’s worse than when I first brought her home.”

“Wow.” Hoseok laughed. “And she threw a vase at you that time.”

“And tried to jump out the window.” A small wry smile tugged at his lips at the memory.

“She’s something.” Hoseok smiled swiping them both a glass of champagne from another passing tray. “She’s good for you. Keeps you on your toes.”

“When she talks to me.” He growled throwing back the glass. “She won’t even look at me.”

Hoseok sighed smile falling from his face. “You have to talk to her.”

“She won’t talk to me.”

“Make her talk to you.” He shrugged. “She can’t ignore you forever.”

“She’s certainly trying.” He huffed out a bitter laugh of his own scowling at his empty glass. “Stubborn woman.” He murmured under his breath.

He knew he had to talk to her, but she wasn’t making it easy. She wasn’t going to make it easy though. That was part of her charm. She never made things easy for him. It was what drew him to her in the first place, her fire, her ability to match him at every turn. Even when he’d stripped her of everything, she was still a fighter. This was different though. This was complete radio silence. It wasn’t fighting. It was like when she was catatonic, she was completely freezing him out like he didn’t exist at all.

“What do you suggest?” He asked sighing deeply. “How far can I push her before she breaks? I don’t want a shell of her. I want her.”

“You have time. Keep trying. She’s what you want right?”

“She’s everything I want.” And he had no intention of losing her. He refused to lose her.

She never managed to change out of her dress when she returned to the house. She’d gone straight to her bedroom to lie down, not even removing her shoes. She was sprawled across the bed red dress fanned out around her like a pool of blood as she laid with her arm thrown over her eyes.

She was grateful not to have had to go to the party. She didn’t know if she could stand a whole evening by his side. Her skin crawled every time he was near. The bruises were faded but the memory of the incident had not.

She only moved from her position when she heard the door to the room bang open. Sitting up she saw Namjoon storming towards her, and she could only sit there like a dear in the headlights.

“What are you doing here?” She asked watching him with wide eyes. “Get out.” She watched in astonishment as he dropped to his knees in front of her clutching her hands tightly in his as she tried to yank them away. “What are you doing?”

“I love you.” His words were spoken fiercely, his eyes lit up with determination. “I love you, and I can’t take this anymore. I can’t take this silence this cold war. I want you. All of you.”

She laughed the sound bitter and cold. “You want me? Have you ever stopped to think that that’s the problem? You want things so you take them. What about me? What about what I wanted? I want to go home. I want my life back. But that doesn’t matter, not to you. This isn’t love.” She hissed out each words throwing them each out like a dagger to his heart. “This is obsession, possession, but it sure as hell isn’t love.”

“I love you.” He repeated clutching her hands tighter.

“I don’t.”

“What?” He asked eyes wide searching her face hoping for any trace of a lie or hesitance of some kind, but there was none.

“I don’t love you.” She repeated voice steady as she gazed down at him. “You’ve taken everything from me.”

“I would give you the world if you would just let me.”

Looking at him she knew he meant those words. He really thought that he loved her. He thought that this was okay, that he was doing the right thing for them. But it wasn’t, not for her.

“I don’t want the world.” She whispered voice low and gentle. “I just want my life back.”

“This is your life, here with me.” He urged reaching up his hands to cup her face, holding her steady even as she tried to pull away. “My wife, my love, my life.”

“You don’t know what love is.” She scoffed ripping herself out of his hold and standing up and striding over to the window arms wrapped around herself.

He strode after her holding onto her upper arms as they stood looking out over the dark garden. “You have to forgive me eventually.”

She whirled around delivering a sharp slap to his face. The sound of the impact echoed across the quiet room as they stared at each other both breathing heavily.

“I don’t have to do anything.” The words were laced in venom. “Get out.” She ordered staring up at him defiantly.

“Y/N.” He pleaded, reaching for her.

“Out!” She yelled again. “I look at you, and I see him. I thought you were better than him, but you’re not. You’re worse than him. That was my own mess. This, this is your hell.”

The words stung hitting him right at the heart of the issue. She was comparing him to Marcus, a man she had called vile and brutish on more than one occasion.

“Get out.” She ordered again pushing on his chest shoving him away, and he stumbled back shaken by her words. “Out!”

“We’ll talk again tomorrow.” It sounded more like a question than a statement, a figment of wishful thinking.

“Out!”

Part 32

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts rm #bts namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #mafia namjoon #yandere namjoon #kim namjoon #yandere #soft yandere #rm x reader #rm #mafia #mafia au #dark romance #a dangerous game #fanfic

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