#Perhaps this side effect never went away truly and I thought I was being attacked by anxiety

[stardustedknuckles]

A year without meds has me sitting on my bed going yeah I could take my evening dose but what will I DO while I'm on it? I can't just waste it. So like. It's not quite sunk in yet that I can just take them and I will have more. I can take them and do whatever I want, and whatever it is I do will be done better than I've managed in a year. It's okay if that's video games. I've told way too many folks in the Adhd alien server that meds don't have to only be for work for me to start falling into that trap myself.

#I also felt it screwing with my blood pressure and it was nice to know exactly what was happening #Like oh yes my body is adjusting #Perhaps this side effect never went away truly and I thought I was being attacked by anxiety #They can feel very similar #Adhdax #We'll see if I use that tag at all I dunno #I'm 👀 at my folder of beauyasha wips and ideas but I need to watch some more c2 to whet that knife first I think

[kung-laos-hat]

Infatuation

Liu Kang x Fem!Reader

This is my first fic on here :) not proof read yet‼️

Summary: Reader was an orphan Raiden found and raised in the temple. Despite being close in ages, Kung Lao and Liu were forbidden from really interacting with her because Raiden feared they’d become a distraction to each other. One night Liu Kang catches her sneaking around the temple, and doesn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity to talk to her

It was no secret that out of all the students Master Raiden took on, (Y/n) was by far one of his favorites. Although he would never dare to outright say it, the proof of this matter became pretty evident in their day to day life. (Y/n) was always the pupil standing behind him or to the side whenever another god payed the temple a visit, she was always given the most formidable missions and tasks, and to top it all off, she trained one-on-one with the Master himself and forbid most of the monks from interacting with her.

Now, Raiden could have placed this rule down for several reasons, but the most prominent one seemed to be because (Y/n) was the only female amongst his students, and so he mandated this in order to protect her well being. After all, who knew what evil might lurk in the hearts of these young men, Raiden thought. As one of his best pupils, (Y/n) couldn’t afford any distractions, nor could the others such as Liu Kang or Kung Lao.

Aside from that, Raiden had raised (Y/n) since she was a child, and as much as he hated to admit, he’d grown rather fond of her as not only a student, but as a daughter. So why wouldn’t he want to ensure no monk came to mettle in her business?

___

Raiden’s rule came with strict precautions and schedules to ensure (Y/n) would never really have to interact with the young men. I say young, because at the end of the day, (Y/n) needed someone to spar with, and Raiden couldn’t always be the one to fight her, so he permitted one of the trustworthy older monks to train with her under supervision every once and a while. Other than that, (Y/n)’s social interactions were limited to the household workers, such as the nurses.

This didn’t mean (Y/n) was oblivious to the existence of the monks around her age or younger. As the years carried on, and (Y/n) blossomed into a young woman, Raiden thought it was suitable to have her assist the children in their training. Her presence, he found, had a calming effect on the children and they quickly took a liking to her. However, this new position allowed her to see the monks around her age in passing or on the other side of the training grounds.

Still, none of them ever spoke to her outside of the casual greetings, thank you’s, and goodbyes.

___

“Do you want spar again later on today?” Liu Kang asked as he took a seat on the ground next to Kung Lao and grabbing his water.

Kung Lao ushered for him to pass the water to him. “Mmm,” He hummed thoughtfully, “We could try, but I think Master Raiden is having the younger monks use the training grounds while he’s out.”

Liu handed him the water and ran a sweaty hand through his hair. “If he’s out, then who’s leading them?”

Kung Lao took a generous sip from the bottle and placed it on the ground. “(Y/n)(L/n) is.” He answered, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

“(Y/n)?” Liu furrowed his brows together in confusion. “She’s been here just as long as I have, yet I don’t believe I’ve ever held an actual conversation with her.”

Kung Lao huffed, “Good. Master would have your head if you did.”

Liu gave him a puzzled look.

“Elder god’s rule!” Kung Lao cheered with false enthusiasm, “None of us are allowed to bother her. But as you can see, she’s been placed in charge of the children, so who knows? It doesn’t seem reasonable to me, really.”

“Huh.” Liu mused. I suppose he’d gotten so accustomed to his schedule that he didn’t even notice how little he interacted with the girl. Hell, he’d completely forgotten about that dumb rule.

“She’s an interesting girl, that’s for sure,” Kung Lao continued.

Just as he said that, the door in the hallway connected to their training court opened and the girl in question emerged, making her way down the hallway.

“Speak of the devil, there she is,” Kung Lao laughed.

(Y/n) turned her head at the sound of his voice and offered them both a smile and a wave as she passed by.

Kung Lao waved back enthusiastically. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” He whispered to Liu, but Liu was too captivated to respond.

His jaw loosened and all he could do was stare at her and only her, as if he was a camera in portrait mode. The wold around her seemed to blur and the light of the sun reflecting off of her skin and clothes made it seem like she was glowing. Liu Kang took in as much detail as he could; the tilt of her head, how her hair framed her face, the curve of her smile, everything. It all seemed magnificent and surreal.

He’d seen her before, surely, but somehow in that very moment something clicked in his mind. Something deep inside him had begun to build up and bubbled it’s way around his entire body. Liu felt like he was sick, but there was no nausea and his body didn’t ache. Instead his throat felt as it had closed and his chest tingled and burned. He brought a hand up and clenched the fabric in between his pectorals. As (Y/n)’s figure disappeared into the other side of the temple, Liu exhaled sharply.

“Liu?”

Perhaps this was the first time he’d taken the time to truly look at her, and that’s why he was feeling this way.

“Liu Kang?”

Maybe he’d been too concentrated on training and improving himself.

Liu was pulled out of his thoughts by Kung Lao flicking his forehead as hard as he could.

“OW— Lao—,” He whined.

Kung Lao chuckled, “I said your name twice.”

Liu’s frown dropped, “Oh, I apologize.” His gaze fell down to his feet in embarrassment.

A sly smile tugged at the ends of Kung Lao’s mouth as he realized what was going through Liu’s head.

“As I was saying,” He cleared his throat, “She’s beautiful. Truly something special, huh?” He teased.

Liu let out a sarcastic laugh and shoved the other male playfully.

The next couple of days Liu’s infatuation with (Y/n) would only grow stronger and more visible to Kung Lao and the others around them. It was interesting to see Liu become passionate about something other than being the “chosen one” for a change. Now the question was how long would it take before he couldn’t help but approach her?

___

Another tedious lesson was over and the two friends could not have been more eager to burst out of the room down roam the halls of the temple to their rooms, but Liu and Kung Lao knew better than to display such uncultivated behavior in front of their master. Once they and the other boys had been dismissed and were out of view from Raiden, Liu began his usual tangent.

“I saw her twice after morning practice, did I tell you?” He began stretching his arms above his head, “I waved and she—,”

“I know, Liu.” Kung Lao chuckled, “You told me all of this during our lunch. I’m beginning to think you’re becoming a little... obsessed with poor (Y/n).”

Liu slapped Kung Lao’s shoulder playfully, “I’m not obsessed, I assure you. I’m just curious as to why Master Raiden won’t let us talk to her.”

Kung Lao opened the pathway to their rooms and shook his head and they continued to walk. “I’m sure he has his reasons. And besides, it’s not good to be so fixated on this when you should be focused on training, Liu.”

Liu cocked and eyebrow at his friend. “What do you mean?”

Kung Lao stopped walking and gave him and knowing look, the corners of his mouth pulling up in amusement as if he was refraining a smile. “Don’t pretend like that little slip up during sparing a day ago while (Y/n) entered happened by sheer coincidence.”

Liu huffed and turned his face away stubbornly. “I didn’t expect her to be watching. I’m not used to fighting with an audience quite yet, that’s all.”

Now that was definitely a lie. Kung Lao knew Liu Kang saw himself as the golden boy amongst their peers, and who could blame him. He was a magnificent fighter.

“If that’s what you want me to believe, then so be it.” Kung Lao flicked the other boy’s forehead, then went off to tidy himself up before bed.

It wasn’t terribly late into the evening yet, but late enough that the sun has completely gone down and most of the temple residents were already asleep. Liu followed in his cousin’s footsteps and heading towards the showers. Afterwards the two boys spent another hour or so talking and playing games together until Kang Lao finally bid Liu goodnight.

Liu stayed behind to put away their things and was about to head out for the night, but when he stepped out into the open grand hall he noticed a figure quickly hide themselves behind one of the columns in the distance. His first reaction would of been to pounce and attack the being right then and there, but he knew he’d have to deal with a lot of angry side eyed glances tomorrow if it turned out to be a false alarm. A stealthy approach was better.

The boy casually pretended as if he was entering another section of the temple and hid behind the wall until he heard feint footsteps going the opposite direction. He took this opportunity to create some distance between him and the figure, just enough that it’d be difficult for them to sense them, but still allowed Liu to follow them.

Down the grand hall, towards the back of the temple, out into the training courts, and...

Into the greenhouse?

If this was a thief, they obviously weren’t a very smart one, for nothing of value would be found in the garden, Liu thought to himself. The garden itself was nothing impressive. Just a small room that was barely the size of a large shed. It contained a collection of flowers, potted trees and herbs that the nurses kept to replenish their stock every once and a while. Liu Kang peered in from the distance behind one of the trees outlining the entrance way, and finally identified the being as the girl he’d been thinking about nearly all week.

It was (Y/n). She placed a lantern that she’d been carrying with her onto the ground and look out a match from her pocket, then crouched down beside it. Seeing as the temple was in no danger, Liu Kang turned around to leave, but the shuffle of the branches startled (Y/n). She quickly summoned her (weapon/power) and darted out of the greenhouse. In her panic, the girl executed one swift blow to the tree, which Liu ducked and narrowly dodged.

“Calm yourself! It’s just me!” Liu whisper-yelled as he revealed himself, holding his hands in front of his chest defensively.

(Y/n) unclenched her fists and allowed her arms to fall to her side. She exhaled in relief, “You— what are you...? I apologize, I shouldn’t have assumed you were an attacker.” Her gaze fell to the floor in embarrassment.

Liu shook his head, “No, no, it was my mistake! I followed you out here on false pretenses that you were a burglar.”

The girl smiled and stifled a laugh. She tilted her head slightly upward to get a better look at the young man in front of her. He was in his normal attire, with his dark hair falling just about his shoulders and framing his face and neck quite nicely. (Y/n) would’ve been tempted to stare at him a little longer if not for the predicament she was in now.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Liu Kang. You see, I’m so busy during the day— and although I know Master wouldn’t approve of it, I come out here when everyone’s alseep just to have time to myself.” She explained frantically, “I don’t— please don’t misinterpret my intentions, I was just—,”

“It’s alright, (Y/n).” Liu smiled, slightly flustered, placing a hand on her shoulder, “No need to explain yourself further. I won’t tell anyone. In fact this entire conversation is technically forbidden, mind you.”

(Y/n) was looking directly at Liu Kang now, and something about his presence was extremely calming to her.

“That’s right...” She mumbled, “You should go then, I don’t want to cause you any more inconvenience, Liu Kang.”

“Just Liu is fine.” He could feel the giddy feeling in his chest growing stronger each time she said his name. In truth, he didn’t want to leave her just yet. He glanced back at the greenhouse and spotted the perfect excuse. “But before I go,” His hand trailed down from her shoulder to her hand, and she accepted it. Liu tugged her back towards the greenhouse.

“I see that in your hurry to kill me, you’ve lost your match.” He smiled playfully at her and picked up the lantern on the floor. Letting go of her hand, he summoned a small flame and lit the wick of the candle inside. Then Liu took (Y/n)’s hands and wrapped it around the side of the glass boy firmly.

“There.” He nodded in satisfaction. “Please accept this as my apology for interrupting your evening.”

(Y/n) let out a small laugh and nodded back. “Thank you, Liu, but,” Her eyes flickered down to the lantern, then back up at him with a hint of mischief, “now that you know my secret, how will I know if you’ll actually keep it?”

“What?” Liu frowned, pretending to take offense, “Is my word not good enough? In that sense, how do I know you’re not actually a burglar?”

“I suppose we’ll just have to keep an eye of each other from now on.” (Y/n) shrugged.

The two stared at each other for a moment, then bursted into a fit of giggles. (Y/n) sighed and placed the lantern on the ground.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow then? It works for both of us. Your secret stays a secret, and I get to talk to you.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up at his words, although I doubt Liu Kang could see it with just a lantern for light. “I look forward to it then. Goodnight Liu.”

Liu placed a small kiss on the back of (Y/n)’s hand, impressed with his own boldness.

“Goodnight.”

___

Bonus:

The next morning, (Y/n) rounded up the younger monks to observe the elder ones practice. She subtly waved to both Liu Kang and Kung Lao before taking her seat behind the children. Just as a match was about to commence, Master Raiden appeared in the entrance and made his way to the center of the court. The monks exchanged confused glances until Raiden spoke.

“Alright, which of you imbeciles destroyed one of my trees?”

#liu kang #liu kang x reader #mortal kombat #kung lao #mk liu kang #mortal kombat 1995 #raiden #mk kung lao #mk raiden #mortal kombat 2021 #kung lao x reader

[marshmallow-phd]

Gravity

Genre: Angst, Unrequited Love

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

A/N: This was basically just a therapy write. 

**

What is worth? It is neither tangible nor seeable. It doesn’t have a body or a shell. Yet, the endless chase to catch it, to hold it captive, is a never ending disease that eats away at the brain and tears apart the heart. It’s only descriptor is feeling. A judgement. Something either is or isn’t. When it's an object in question, the call for worth is passive, innocent. It’s wanted or it's not. The deterioration comes into play when the worth is applied to a person. 

Kim Junmyeon was worth the world. 

With a smile that could chase away a storm and a heart too good and pure for the human populace, he was truly worth more than the world. He was worth more than you deserved. 

Not only was his face kind, but it was handsome. Beautiful, even. Candid photos were museum worthy masterpieces. There was a gentleness, a softness to his eyes and cheeks that contradicted the sharpness of his jaw and the strength of his body. His laugh was infectious and his mind as vast and deep as the ocean. The sum of his whole was worth so much. 

But you were not worthy of such a person. You weren’t as stunning as a sunset over the mountains or as extraordinary as a new discovery. You were simply… you. Staring from afar, admiring but never touching. 

You wished you could be worthy. You wished you could be special enough - good enough to be with him. Pretty enough would be something decent to settle for. But you were invisible. A person on the sidelines. Out of the spotlight. You were an admirer - not one to be admired. 

“You’re doing it again.”

You blinked, your attention torn away from the spot where Junmyeon was standing, laughing and chatting with a few of his seniors. Kyungsoo, who sat to your left at the small table in the entertainment building’s cafe, didn’t even look up from the script he was currently reviewing. He’d only been given it the day before and was still considering if he wanted the part that was being offered to him. 

Your gaze dropped to the opened yet untouched notebook lying in front of you on the somewhat sticky surface. Someone must have spilled their syprup-y coffee and didn’t do the best job at cleaning it up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Without moving his head, Kyungsoo looked at you over the rim of his glasses. Even though you were sure you were nothing more than a blur to his eyes at the moment, he could always see right through you. “If you keep staring at him like that, you’re going to give yourself away.”

The ultimate nightmare. The humiliation of being found out. The sweet but awkward rejection that you knew would follow. With his laugh still ringing in your ears, you forced yourself to tune Junmyeon out. 

Pushing his glasses up his nose with his middle finger, Kyungsoo straightened and closed the script. “We can go somewhere else, if that would help.”

You wanted to argue no. That you weren’t a coward. That you weren’t going to run and hide simply because you looked at him like he was the night sky while you were stuck on the ground. You used to have better control of yourself. You used to be able to hide it better. But lately, it had only gotten worse. 

And you were a coward. 

“Yeah. Maybe one of the practice rooms is empty.”

“There’s usually one.”

After gathering up your things, you followed Kyungsoo out of the cafe, stealing a final glance. Junmyeon didn’t so much as twitch in your direction. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he hadn’t even realized that you were there in the cafe for the past half hour. 

Kyungsoo settled into one corner of the worn navy blue couch while you squeezed into the other. Not speaking a word, he went back to reading the script. That was a nicety of your friendship. Comfortable silence was more than readily available when needed. He didn’t push or give unasked for advice. He was an ear to listen and a presence to take in when you didn’t want to be alone. 

You stared down at the notebook in your lap where your next story ideas were supposed to be filling the pages. But nothing was coming out. Not even the vague pictures you’d had earlier this morning. The only things being called to the paper were the sentences held in the invisible tears you refused to shed. Words of wishes and frustrations swirled around inside the tiny droplets, every letter as heavy as lead. Your cruel mind kept echoing at you the conversation that had constricted the air in your lungs. 

Two days ago, you’d accidentally overheard a drama staff worker jokingly say that Junmyeon and his current co-star seemed awfully close, more than merely friends. Stomach lurching, you ran to the nearest bathroom. Nothing came out but almost fifteen minutes of deliberate breathing had gone by before you emerged again. Kyungsoo was quick to dismiss the comment after barely three words from you. The effect, however, still lingered. 

Despite the history of your intrusive thoughts, you wanted to believe that you could be good enough. That you were worthy of being beside someone like Junmyeon. His co-costar was stunning, even in real life. Someone who didn’t need photoshop to draw out gasps of awe and astonishment. Someone you most certainly couldn’t compete with in any race. 

You weren’t asking for much. Just to be able to hold his hand, your fingers interlaced between his own. The fantasy you allowed yourself to indulge in at times wasn’t a grand gesture or a modern fairytale. You wanted simplicity. The smaller moments that could mean so much. Mundane, to some eyes. 

Warm sun rays leaked through the closed blinds over the living room windows. A clock on the wall ticked away the meaningless minutes. Sometimes soft music hummed in the background, sometimes there was nothing but silence. Junmyeon would lay across the length of the couch with you wrapped around his side. His fingers would absentmindedly caress your shoulder or arm. In his other hand was a book, held open by his thumb and pinky. Your own hand drifted through his hair while he read aloud. 

The two of you had dozens of endless conversations about books. About the ones you loved and the ones you hated. About deeper meanings and the reflections of life. His love of literature - from the celebrated classics to the obscure unknown - had been what initially drew you in. Everything else was what made you stay.

A muscle in your hand cramped. The peaceful scene faded from your eyes. The page was now filled with barely legible, ink-smeared words. You’d written the entire scenario out, along with your heart, without even realizing it. 

In a panic, you ripped the paper from its spiral hold, crumpled it up, and tossed it to the trash can across the room. It missed. 

“I doubt whatever you wrote was that bad,” Kyungsoo murmured. He read the final few lines of the script and closed it. 

“It wasn’t,” you admitted bitterly. “But I shouldn’t have written it.” You described the scene to him while your eyes stayed trained on the loose thread twirling between your fingers. 

He sighed. “You’re never going to tell him, are you?”

“I can’t.”

“You can. You’re just stopping yourself.”

You scoffed. “Why would I deliberately set myself up like that? Break me the rest of the way?”

Kyungsoo stared at you, long and hard, his expression blank to those who couldn’t read the tell-tale signs that his thoughts were in overdrive. “You’re really hurting, aren’t you?”

You sniffed, though no tears were yet forcing their way to the surface. “Most days.”

“Then walk away.”

“I can’t.” Your voice broke - just like your heart. The world blurred when you shook your head. “I can’t… simplify it. But-- It’s like I was this stupid lump of rock drifting aimlessly through space, content with my life. Then suddenly, I came across this brilliant star that shined so brightly and… we collided. And now I’m stuck in his orbit. But he just keeps on spinning while my whole world had changed completely. He’s… my gravity. I don’t know anything else anymore.”

“Maybe it’s time to find your own orbit.”

Afraid it might crack again, your voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t know how.”

The door creaked open and your heart leapt. Junmyeon stuck his head inside. Had he overheard everything?

“There you are! I turned away for a second and suddenly you two weren’t in the cafe anymore.”

He’d… He’d seen you? In the cafe?

“It was too loud,” Kyungsoo lied, covering up for you like he always did. 

“It’s always too loud for you,” Junmyeon teased. Then his face morphed into that leader-esque expression. “We need to head to rehearsal. You’re welcome to join us,” he nodded to you.

“No, that’s okay,” you said quickly in response. “I have a writer’s meeting.” No, you didn’t, but space felt like the right choice at the moment. You tried not to focus on the lack of disappointment coming from the direction of the door. 

“Maybe next time.” Junmyeon slapped the side of the door. “Let’s go, Soo.”

You were actually the first one on your feet, muttering goodbyes to both of them and then walking down the hall perhaps a little too fast. 

You didn’t allow your mind to think the whole way home. Every action was done in automatic mode. Only the minimal amount of awareness was used. But when the apartment door clicked behind you, when the near darkness wrapped you up, when the silence crept in and the empty couch mocked you… you broke. 

Knees buckling from under you, the cold hard floor came closer and you didn’t leave that spot just inside the room as the tears and sobs crashed out in waves. 

This was what you hated the most. The breakdowns that came with no excuse. They were built up by your own mind, by your intrusive thoughts. You tortured yourself with what you could never have. The attacks were random and it was only recently that you had learned to hold them in long enough until you were safe within your own walls. One time, you hadn’t made it. Kyungsoo had been there to pat your shoulder. 

Kyungsoo. He was right. 

That clarity was coming through as the tears dried and your breathing evened out again. You needed space. You needed to separate yourself from what wasn’t good for you and not see him. Not even have the temptation to. 

This was going to hurt like hell. 

**

The office somehow looked smaller with the bare walls. Since the day you moved in, you tried to liven it up, give it character, make it reflect the interests you loved. How were you supposed to write if this place felt like a stifling corporate desert, dry of any creativity?

Not that you ever actually wrote in this twelve by eight space. This place had been reserved for meetings and other usually boring necessities. You didn’t know the next time a budget meeting or an email check would be conducted here. You could be back in a few months and move back in as if you never left. Or someone else could take over. Only time would tell. 

The box that currently had your attention was nearly full. You’d have to come back for the rest. There wasn’t much left, anyway. You took another look around to see if there was anything else you could do at the moment. The monitors were black, the tower underneath - so much smaller than the one you’d had as a kid - was powered off, and the chair that was aligned just so to your favored adjustments was pushed into the gray desk. Saying goodbye to this place really did hurt. 

But you needed to do this. 

And yet, you felt like you were drowning, being dragged deeper into the black water. Your lungs were screaming for relief. 

“You’re really leaving?”

Your shoulders stiffened. At first, you didn’t look up at him. You weren’t sure what to say to him. Being here… it was the last place you expected him to be today. Kyungsoo would have told him, but you wouldn’t have waited around for him to appear. 

“Hi, Junmyeon.” You folded up the top of the box, overlapping the pieces so it would stay shut in transport. 

“I thought you liked it here?”

“I love it,” you confessed. “But I- I need to go home for a little while.”

“Are you homesick?”

“Something like that.” Definitely some version of sick. 

He nodded. “Will you be gone long?” His eyes drifted over the holes in the walls leftover from the frames that used to hang in front of them. 

“I don’t know.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. This was…. You should go. Pushing your fingers under the box, you started to lift it to take it home. 

“Do you have to go?”

The question stalled you. Confused, the box went back down on the desk. “Why are you here, Junmyeon?”

He shrugged, though it didn’t shake off the stiffness in his shoulders. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his arms all the way to his wrists covered up by the sleeves of his shirt. Lately he had been rolling them up. You wondered what had changed today. “You’re our friend.”

Friend. 

Friend. Friend. Friend. 

The word rang over and over like a declaration of war. Our friend. 

The smart thing to do would have been to nod, say goodbye, and leave. But - instead - you opened your mouth. 

“I will always be your friend.”

That didn't make him smile like you would have thought. “So, then why do you have to leave?”

You rubbed your eyebrow, fighting within yourself. You lost. 

“Have you ever had a friend so head over heels for someone that won’t even look at them twice? But they don’t care? Because as long as the person they’re looking at is happy, then they’re happy. Even if your friend is completely miserable in the process. Because they no longer care about their own self. They just keep looking at the other person, doing anything that entails that they’re still happy.” You swallowed thickly to try and keep your voice steady. By your sides, your hands were trembling at this roundabout confession. “And you want to shake them. You want to tell them to get out. Because as long as they stick around, they won’t look at one else. No one else exists. Well, this is me. Getting out.”

The frown on Junmyeon’s face deepened as he let your words sink in. “Who is it? Will you tell me?”

No. Because this was enough of an admittance. Because it was time to find your own sense of gravity. 

So, without a word, you picked up the box and left the office. 

Waiting for you when you came back was the scene you had written in the practice room that day, flattened out but still wrinkled as it laid on the desk. 

#exo #kim junmyeon x reader #kim junmyeon #kim joonmyeon #suho #suho x reader #exo oneshot #exo drabble #exo angst #exo unrequited love #kpop

[yanderart]

   Took me longer since the “drabble” that was supposed to accompany this turned into a kind of extensive one-shot, but here’s the next installment in the Yandere POV series. Inspired by a juicy request from some thoughtful anons!

   Below the cut is, as customary, a fic I wrote exploring the underlying themes of the portrait (creepy best friend tamaki x reader, nsfw, dark themes, 8k).

TWs: usual yandere content (delusion, obsession, deceit, etc), explicit noncon, violence, Tamaki making the frienzone his bitch. Generous implementations of the pet name “bunny”.

 .                  

 If you had known the chain of events that would spiral from telling Tamaki about your new relationship… well, perhaps you would’ve stayed quiet. It wasn’t like it was that serious yet either, but you had an inkling (“I really like this one, Tamaki”) that made it worthwhile enough to mention in your book. Remarkable enough to share with your very best friend.  

  Besides, in your defence, you really had no way of knowing just what hid behind his agitated reaction. Nerves stretched thin, voice terse as he congratulated you with a smile that appeared a little too bright, a little too strained. With someone like Tamaki, it was easy to go chalk it all up to his anxiety, stress or an unfortunate mix of both.

  So easy to underestimate him, wasn’t it?

  Nevertheless, there were no uses for any what ifs in your future, speculations and paranoia not even close to creeping up on you yet. So almost a week after your reveal, when you got a call from Tamaki himself, you didn’t even hesitate as you picked it up in the last few dredges of your work shift.

  “Need something?” you answered distractedly as your fingers continued typing on your keyboard, sorting out the last few remnants of some menial task.  

  The prolonged silence however, only brokered by a subtle sound you identified as actual sniffling, was your only response. Your hands stopped mid movements then, brows furrowed with worry.  

  “What’s happening, dear?”

  This time your voice was as calming as you could compel it to be, your tone trying to imbed reassurance into every syllable, “Tamaki?”

  You heard what sounded like a whine, a strangled sound that conjured up an image of tears trailing down his cheeks, bottom lip quivering in a sorrowful grimace.  

  Calling him dear despite having a boyfriend now, it was like you were taunting him.  

  “Bunny,” Tamaki’s voice was shaking as he called you by your old nickname, sobs making it hard to understand anything but how panicked his intonation was. “I-I need you.”

  Thinking your pro-hero friend was having another budding panic attack, or perhaps on the brink of a new stress induced mental breakdown, you were on your feet before he even stopped speaking. The protective side of your brain had overridden any apprehension to leave your post, your hands already reaching to turn off your work computer before you wordlessly left your desk.

  You were working overtime, anyways, and any consequences that came out of going to your friend’s aid were well worth facing in your book. And by that point too, you knew enough of all of their schedules to know yours would be the easiest to clear. Mirio and Nejire had their own heroics to worry about, while you only had an unremarkable office job to account for.  

   Not like he’d want Mirio or Nejire there, though. Not like he would ever call for them when he had you.  

   “I’ll be right there, Tamaki. Please stay put,” was the last thing you told him before hanging up and rushing to get your coat.  

   The urgency in his timbre, the utter need, was all you could think of as you left your building in quickened strides.  

  And by the way you were rushing, it was clear that you actually cared for him, your very best friend. All you needed was a gentle reminder of just how much.

.

  You got to Tamaki’s apartment in a matter of minutes, letting your cab driver keep the change as you stumbled up the stairs in urgent skips. It wasn’t the first time he asked you to be there for him (asked you without actually saying it, because he would never dare utter the words), yet you knew enough of the turmoil he went through on a daily basis. A pro-hero he might be, but his anxiety was his eternally undefeated foe.

  Although was it really that bad if it kept bringing you two together?

  Opening the door into a room enveloped by shadows, you dropped your things without a care before attempting to make your way into the living room.

   Barely a heartbeat later, an audible hitch in someone’s breathing alerted you quickly of your friend’s location.

   “Y/N?” his voice sounded hoarse and choked up as he called for you. And it felt like a fist was squeezing your heart, the same that had been consistently gripping your chest ever since you first picked up the phone in your office.

  “I’m here, dear.“ You comforted him while redirecting your steps to the sound of his trembling voice.  

   Despite the darkness, your eyes were acclimatized enough to distinguish the silhouette of his body hunched over the only sofa in the room. Even without getting a glimpse at his face, you could sense defeat and pessimism oozing off of him in waves. As you got closer, however, he made no movements of retreat, nor flinched away when you sat beside him.  

   Instead, it was like his body started to release all of his pent-up tension as a response to your proximity.

  You were there and it was like he could finally breathe. You were there for him, right where you were meant to be.

  One of your palms was reaching out and drawing quick circles across his back, the thin fabric of his t-shirt bunching up while your voice hummed what you hoped was a tranquilizing melody. With the other one, you clasped one of Tamaki’s own vacant hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, almost as if you were willing the worries to leave his body, a piper’s songs coaxing them out in the form of your enticing presence.  

  By that point, you knew enough about his episodes to know physical contact and reassurance were the fastest ways to get him to come back up from his lowest of lows. So it was no wonder, then, when your reward came quickly in the form of a content sigh leaving his lips, anguish still visible in his posture but his body clearly leaning into the solace you offered.

  The balm you provided had always been intoxicating for him.  

  “I… I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he stuttered through distressed hiccups. He looked so fragile like that, so much like a kicked puppy, that you instinctually wrapped your arm around his waist and hugged him closer to your side.  

  “Oh, Tamaki…,” you shushed with a note of guilt, preoccupied with the fact that he would ever think you’d leave him hanging, “why would you even say that?”

  You could feel his shoulders stiffen in your embrace, his hand tightening around yours for a moment before going limp in your grip. His lack of an answer stung even more.  

  It was ridiculous truly, to feel so protective over a man who was a pro-hero and clearly several times your strength. Even hugging him like you were, his lanky silhouette overshadowed yours in an almost comical portrayal of your height difference.  

  But he was your dearest friend —taking care of him came as second nature.  

  He adored you for it.  

   “You know I could never ignore you when you need me,” you whispered as your thumb drew patterns on the hand you were holding, soft insignificant drawings that to him felt like ancient secrets being exchanged. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

   It was always like this with you two. Tamaki stayed quiet while you rambled on in his ear, trying to scatter any doubts or anxious thoughts still clouding his mind. At first you had thought it’d be annoying for him, overbearing in the worst of senses, but he had quickly insisted that you always knew just what to do to calm him down. You were his best friend, the one person besides Mirio and Nejire who just got him, who truly understood…

   So it only made you feel guiltier, to think that you wouldn’t be able to help him this one time. He was a hero who saved countless lives, someone whose time was worth more than you could ever hope to achieve as a meager civilian. And yet you couldn’t even comfort him as a friend?

  But it wasn’t your fault. You just needed to unlearn your behaviour. And if he truly was your best friend, didn’t you want him to feel loved too?  

   Which was precisely when an idea came to you, an epiphany from above in the form of a vivid memory of the last time you two met up, of the news that had seemingly left Tamaki acting oddly sour.  

   “You didn’t think I’d just forget about you because I have a boyfriend now, did you?,” you joked good-naturedly.  

   Only instead of having the comforting effect you’d hoped, your comment resulted in your friend stiffening even more, his face finally snapping to look at you with hurt written all across his features. The strength was back in the manner in which he was now seizing your hand, clasping it until you started to feel the blood circulation being slowly cut off.  

   “Isn’t that how it works, though?” His question was fretful on his tongue, barely above a whisper and with the slightest hint of resentment. His eyes were impossibly wide, impossibly alert as he studied your reaction, “Isn’t your boyfriend supposed to be your priority? The person you care for the most?”

  But even with the switch in his behaviour and the worrisome path his words were taking, you were still too preoccupied by him to heed any of it. It was just Tamaki over analyzing things, as always, and his anxiety popping in to get the better of him.  

  “Human relationships don’t work like that, dear.” And there the fucking nickname was again, that jest of a loving pet name on your lips. “It’s not a hierarchical structure. I care about both of you in different ways.”

   It felt silly to explain it out loud, to say such an obvious thing, but you couldn’t help wanting to appease some of the conflict eating away at your friend. Did he really think you’d ever drop him for anyone else? You had known Tamaki for years now, cared for him for what felt like a lifetime. The thought alone seemed completely ludicrous to you…

   Even as his touch started hurting, as you felt a stern pressure that would surely become a bruise on your wrist, all you could think of was that this was just Tamaki being Tamaki, right? And you just needed to calm him down, like you always did.  

  He saw the misery on your gorgeous face, the blossoming pain colouring your expression despite your attempts at hiding it. For once, he wasn’t the only one hurting anymore, and he oddly enjoyed that.

“You’re saying that, but why… why can’t I believe you?” It sounded like he was conflicted, tone frantic as he attempted to wrestle down whatever doubts were increasingly plaguing his mind. He tugged at your wrist with a clenched fist, stealing a whimper out of you while his face got closer and closer, “Uh, I bet he doesn’t give you as much trouble either. Bet he takes care of you.”

  I bet you love him was left unsaid. I bet you love him like I wish you loved me.  

  You attempted to push him off with your free hand at that point, discomfort quickly growing into annoyance despite your best intentions of being understanding. You were still under the impression that this was just a moment of clouded thoughts on his part, something bound to pass as he regained a grip of his senses. But the nerves flaring from the strength of his hold were impossible to ignore.

  “Tamaki, let me go first,” you commanded in a carefully composed manner, still attempting not to sound as harsh as you would’ve if this was anyone but your anxiety ridden best friend, “and then we can talk about why you’re feeling like that.”  

  Yet his reaction was abrasive once more, twisting your arm by the wrist harshly until your entire body was collapsing into his.

   “Don’t be like that. Don’t lie to me and tell me everything will be okay,” he was agitated, jittery and unstable in the way his eyes kept darting around. “All of this time I’ve been waiting… waiting to gather the courage…” He was making little sense now, just mumbling while he kept cradled your pained hand between his, a darkened gaze fluttering from your own eyes, to your lips and lastly some obscure point in the wall behind you. “And then you couldn’t wait for me anymore. And now you don’t need me.”

  It was hard to think through the mist of your budding worry and the agony still emanating from your wrist. Somehow, your other arm had stopped fruitlessly hitting him and was instead just trying to keep him at a distance, your neck cramping from how far back you were trying to get yourself.  

   He was impossibly close, intense and expectant as his stare once again found its way to yours. You could still see the doubts twisting there, but it was rapidly becoming eclipsed by a new creeping resolution. Even while you continued silently fighting to escape his grip, as terror encased you and you tried to understand why your best friend was acting like that all of a sudden.  

  After that night, would you perhaps think a villain’s quirk was to blame? Or maybe you’d think one of his enemies had decided to impersonate him in a twisted bid for revenge? Surely you couldn’t accept what the reality was, the fact that his love for you was just that blinding.  

   Don’t worry, though, he’d make you understand.

  Tamaki’s voice was feverish once he broke through the silence again, a new type of determination steadying his usual stutter in a way you’d never heard before.  

  “But I’ll fix that,” and then he was cupping your face with his free hand, your numb one still clutched tightly in his lap while his attention was diverted to your worried expression. “And then you will need me just as much as I need you. Then…“

  And there was a pregnant pause before he continued, a space of time where his stare bore into yours full of hidden meaning, “We can go back to being best friends again.”

Somehow though, on his tongue the term best friends sounded suspiciously like something else entirely.

 “Tamaki, listen…,” you tried again, refusing to quit still, before being interrupted by a terrifying sequence of actions unravelling.

  Because he was tugging your wrist down again after that, but this time twisting and twisting until your entire field of vision filled with the aftermath of an unbearable pain. A snapping sound echoed in your ears, a scream clawing its way out of your throat before you had a notion of what was even happening —Tearing through the rest of your composure, probably hurting his ears just as much as it left your vocal cords feeling raw. By that point, the hand that was previously pushing at his chest with firmness had turned frenzied, clamped fists now carrying the weight of urgency.  

  Tamaki looked halfway surprised at his own actions, halfway scared. Halfway excited, too.  

  Following a pattern of behaviour which did little to deter the horror rapidly embracing you, your so-called friend inhaled thickly before, suddenly and without warning, capturing your lips in a kiss. Your eyes were opened wide as you felt the pressure of his mouth claiming yours, taking advantage of your numb state to persuade you into opening up and allowing an even more intimate intrusion.  

  It has to be a nightmare, you thought in shock as his hands fluttered against your cheeks, sliding down to your neck and massaging your shoulders. It was like he couldn’t decide whether to stay still, where to touch or caress as his lips openly devoured you.  

  He waited so long for this, an eternity of yearning for someone right at his side.

   “T-Tamaki,”i, you willed yourself into speaking up once he broke away from you, gasping for air and with his hair looking as wild as his gaze, “I don’t know what happened but… you’re not being yourself.”

  Were you seriously still trying to deny his feelings? Trying to pretend like it hadn’t taken everything in him to finally gather his courage and just act. What a fucking friend you were.

  If he didn’t love you so much, he’d hate you for that.

  “You need help. Something happened”, you were rambling, too intimidated by the intent with which your friend was now listening to your words. “Once you’re feeling better, we can talk. I… I’ll promise to be understanding.”

  And despite the throbbing sensation in your injured hand, despite the disgust at his actions and unadulterated horror, the worst part was that you really meant it…

  But who were you really trying to convince at that point?

   His hands were still on your shoulders, but the way they squeezed around your flesh reminded you of the talons you had seen him grow with his quirk, sharp nails sinking without a warning and driving more half-hearted cries out of your throat. You looked like a mess now, lips still plump from the force of his kiss, mixed spit clinging to your face from it, fat tears freely cascading down your cheeks.

   “But… Y/N,” his voice was oddly soft when he addressed you again. There was a timid smile back on his face, one that reminded you of the friend you refused to believe no longer existed, and you briefly wondered if you had finally gotten through to him despite the unflinching strength of his grip, “I’ve never felt better.”

   He genuinely sounded so relieved too, so content with the dark implications behind his words, that you felt the blood become icy currents in your veins, liquid fear being pumped instead in its place. Before you even realized your course of actions, you were leaning your head to the side and biting down on one of his arms with everything you had.

   Tamaki was the one groaning then, retreating his hands instinctively and giving you the spare second you needed before you were jumping from the sofa and diving for the door.

  It’s unlocked, was all you could think about as you leapt to the exit. You could get away if you just managed to cross it, run until your legs gave up on you. You could go to your boyfriend’s place and wait there until you had enough courage to reach out to the police, to a hero —to anyone who could help you. Things could still be fixed.  

  And maybe, just maybe, the silliest part of you added, whatever was clouding your best friend’s senses would magically be gone once you had gotten away from his grasp.

  You never knew how to quit, truly. But it was okay, he liked that about you too.  

  A suffocated cry was all the sound you could make as you were fiercely shoved to the floor, your face smashing against the carpet and your nose making a horrifying sound before your entire head felt like it was on fire. The white-hot pain was all you could think of, the dam lifting entirely from your eyes as tears trickled down your cheeks in copious amounts.

  “D-don’t make me hurt y-you,” Tamaki didn’t sound at all winded, but anxious, pained himself from the wounds he had to inflict on you, “I want to make you feel good, not like… like this.”

  Which only made it more fucked up when, once you started fighting again, you felt the unmistakable pressure of a growing erection pushing against your lower back. As pained as you were, you willed yourself to keep struggling after that, trying fruitlessly to get away or somehow kick him, bite him, do anything in your power.  

  In all honesty, it only made him get more excited. He really was a sick, sick man. But only for you.

  “Stop, Y/N,” Tamaki pleaded in hushed whispers, his hands shaking as he tried to comb your hair out of the way. There was blood pooling around your face, flowing freely from the place your nose had smashed into the floor. You could barely breathe through it, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you attempted to otherwise fill your lungs through panicked gasps, "If you… if you stop, I’ll stop too.”  

  It was easy to recognize the lie as soon as it was uttered, a poor excuse for deceit as his hips stuttered into yours almost of their own volition. You heard him curse then, right as you both noticed that all your wrestling did was just press yourself harder against his arousal.

   However, before you could voice your growing terror, one of his hands was suddenly on your back, drawing circles in a mocking imitation of how you had tried comforting him earlier. The sickness in the pit of your stomach at that gesture, that feeble attempt at consolation, was all you could think about as the tears of impotence continued furiously trickling down your cheek.  

   You were disgusted, not only at the monster humping you as he continued mumbling poor excuses and null reassurances, but also sick at yourself for willingly going there to attempt to help him in the first place. You couldn’t believe part of you still stuttered to call him your friend moments ago, yet, even through your disgust, you’d also be lying if you didn’t admit how hard it was reconciling your aggressor with the soft spoken boy you had grown to foolishly treasure.

   “I’ve wanted you for so long,” his voice tickled one of your ears as he allowed himself to continue resting more and more of his weight on you, almost suffocating you under the pressure. He wasn’t even pretending like his hands weren’t wandering now, palms still mockingly gentle in their nervousness, but stopping his poor attempts at consolation long enough to grip your shirt and lift it up. “I don’t even remember what it felt like not to want you.”

   You wished you could scream again, but breathing was already such a laborious task between your fractured nose and Tamaki’s hold. When you refused to turn on your back after he gently nudged you, his hands just closed tighter around your top and tore it apart from your body, leaving you shivering —not due to the cold but due to a fear and impotence that trumped any temperature.  

   Then, because he couldn’t even leave you to suffer in peace, you felt the torn fabric of your shirt being pressed against the side of your face, prodding you with a meekness that felt completely out of place as the cloth started to soak in the blood gathering around you.

   “Press it against your nose, so it stops the bleeding.” He continued softly tapping it against your cheek until your unharmed hand went to roughly retrieve it out of his and do as he preached.

  You could’ve told him nosebleeds didn’t exactly work like that when you had a busted nose, that just pressing a piece of cloth wasn’t going to help your case much (or that his kindness was void, when he was the reason you why were bleeding in the first place), but all of that implied talking, and right now all you wanted to do was shut up, pass out, dissociate. Whatever it took to ignore his fingers now drifting to the hem of your pants.

  Yet he just wanted to take care of you. So why wouldn’t you let him? You were making it so difficult, when all Tamaki only ever wanted was to make you feel loved. Loved by him.  

  “You… hmm, you aren’t going to trust me right now,” it appeared like he was fidgeting with the waistband of your work pants as he drew out the admission, the thrumming in his voice sheepish and uncertain. It reminded you of how he would sound like when he attempted to talk to strangers, forcing himself into being pro-hero levels of courageous just so he could exchange a few words, “But that’s okay, Y/N, because you’ll understand.” One of his hands ghosted the plush curve of your ass, so lightly that you could’ve thought you imagined it in any other situation, “And when you do, you… you can break up with your boyfriend then. Things can go back to how they were. To just us.”

  The image of your partner crowded your thoughts then, his kind smile being conjured up in your mind as you heard your pants being torn apart next. It was enough to have you openly sobbing, biting down on the fabric of your ruined shirt as you tried to quiet down the sound of your own grief.

  But you’d thank him soon, once you understood. You already loved him before…so how hard could it be to love him again, but properly this time? To show him how much he knew you cared.  

  Once the remnants of your pants were thrown aside as well, you didn’t even get the luxury to cross your legs and put any kind of further struggle. Tamaki sat up on top of you, relenting the pressure in your chest and waist but comfortably setting himself on your hips, his legs encasing your thighs in an inescapable prison.  

  You could almost sense his eyes scanning your exposed flesh, hear his delirious muttering as his fingers got greedier and greedier in the paths they weaved across your body, the quick circles from before being exchanged by longer, drawn out movements. It felt like he was memorizing a map, with every little scar and indent in your complexion being the marks leading down to a hidden treasure, wonders to marvel at and inspect.  

 “I’m sorry, but I’ve dreamed of this for so long…” His tone was barely above a reverent whisper as you felt him finally reach your bra, unclasping it with a shaking that could only be attributed to unrestrained excitement, “dreamt of you even while awake.” He parted the fabric and left it precariously hanging off your sides on the carpeted floor, hands ceremoniously splaying across your shoulder blades next, “But you feel so different from anything I could’ve come up with. So much softer.”

  His lips were on your back in an instant, almost as if he just couldn’t help himself, and he was sucking and licking while trying to cover up the sounds of his own elation. The slow grinding against your backside had stopped, though, and the weight of his heated groin lifted from your back for the first time since you had been crushed to the floor. It was such a relief, to be able to move again (even if you weren’t foolish enough to try and get away by that point), that you didn’t even realize the alleviated sigh managing to escape your mouth until it was too late.  

  You felt Tamaki’s lips curling against your spine, the satisfaction in his gesture crystal clear.  

  “Does this feel good, bunny?,” he asked you in a pleased little rumble, mistaking your sounds of relief for something else altogether. “Does it feel good when I kiss you like this?” He pointed his question by leaving another sloppy flutter of his lips against the nape of your neck.  

   But then his presence disappeared from your back altogether, a moment so brief that hopefulness could not even begin to be reborn before it was crushed at your feet. Because before you could savour the retreat,Tamaki was now grasping and lifting your hips with his arms, deft hands sliding the lone piece of underwear still hiding your modesty from his prying eyes.  

 You briefly wondered why he hadn’t just ripped it apart like he’d done with the rest of the items that got in the way, but the distinct sound of someone sniffing gave you all the answers you needed. Deep, earnest inhales followed by a purr of satisfaction. Goosebumps blossomed across your body from disgust.  

  But to him, that was just another sign of you being into it. You were just too stubborn to admit it, weren’t you, bunny?

  “I’ll make sure to kiss you all over.” Your eyes were closed with such force, your intact hand losing colour from the strength you were using to grip the torn piece of fabric against your mouth. “If… if I’m honest”, and he was back to sounding sheepish, contradictorily embarrassed as if he wasn’t the one carrying out the assault, “Bunny, I’ve been wondering how your moans sound for the longest time, too.”

  If you weren’t as determined not to let a single sound slip out, you would’ve gagged. But all thoughts of Tamaki’s words were soon replaced by his actions, cold calloused hands snaking between your legs as the pro-hero’s arms kept a secured grip that made sure you could not wiggle out of his grasp. He was hunching over you again, dark purple hair tickling your thighs, and your exposed entrance twitched as a gust of air was blown directly into it.  

  You wanted so badly to cry out, to protest again, but you were afraid of ever loosening your grip on the fabric that covered your mouth. So instead you tried to steer your body, not to get away but to move your damaged hand until it was being crushed by your own chest, new waves of pain radiating off of it in order to distract you.

 Were you that afraid of liking it, that you’d take your own pain over the pleasure he’d deliver?

  “Bunny,” he groaned that nickname again, laying a bed of kisses across your inner thighs, slobbering and disorganized while his hands kneaded your flesh with acute urgency. “Y/N…”, your name was chanted like prayer, the holiest of incantations being whispered into the flourishing goosebumps of your inner legs.

  It was hard not to squirm when you physically felt his voice reverberating through your body, when the hands holding you up were so excruciatingly close to your now quivering hole. Even while fear coursed through your veins, what you dreaded the most was the way heat was starting to pool in your stomach.  

  You tried pressing harder against the limp hand below you, but Tamaki’s arms steadied you from their place around your legs before you had the chance to properly act.  

  “Stop trying to hurt yourself, please,” and to his credit, he actually sounded anguished himself, although you doubted it was due to the same reasons you were currently suffering. “I want to make you feel good, bunny. Please… please let me.”

  He was kissing the skin of your thighs again before you had the opportunity to argue (not that you’d consider willingly opening your mouth again by that point). Your assailant trailed a path of shivers until he was hovering over your mound, tickling you with his quickened breathing as a wanton groan reached your ears.  

  “So beautiful,“ and his nose was pressing against you, face nuzzling your cunt with such an affection that only helped to make you feel infinitely dirtier, his voice dripping with reverence. “My bunny’s beautiful little pussy.”

  You were wriggling again before you could attempt to calm yourself down, the alarms that had never stopped blaring now drowning any other thoughts circling your mind. But you had nowhere to go, nowhere to escape, and before another moment passed your entire body was tensing up again when you felt a wet appendage slowly licking up your folds.

  He explored you through the movements of his tongue, guttural sounds of appraisal being smothered as he tasted your plush folds for the very first time. Even without the aid of his arms, still holding you up as they were, it was becoming increasingly obvious that he did not need them in order to thoroughly savour you.

  So long he had been deprived of all sustenance, teased by your hugs and touches and left to starve while you went to seek affection elsewhere. Maybe he was undeserving, but could anyone blame him for finally snapping after so long? For finally, for once, daring to be selfish enough to demand.

  “Delicious,” his trembling compliment was proclaimed between licks, lips slowly journeying their way to your clit before he was audibly sucking it in, his own whines echoing through your entire body once more and making you bite down harder on the bloodstained cloth. “And… you’re getting wet for me too,“ which was only accentuated by the lascivious sounds he made as he started lapping at your rapidly gathering juices. “Am I making you feel good, bunny?”

  Shut up, you wanted to scream, shut up and just be done with it. But it was getting so hard to concentrate, your fingers cramping from the force you were using to keep the piece of your torn up shirt tightly in place. He kept gingerly savouring your unwilling excitement, relentless in the way his tongue continued teasing and prodding, even dipping into your heat as his gluttony for you became an unbearable constant.  

  When you felt one of his hands descend from your thighs, the sound of a belt being unbuckled, your eyes opened up again in fear. You almost stopped biting down on your shirt in order to voice one last protest, but then his mouth was wrapping itself harder still around your bundle of nerves —shoots of a pleasure you tried to ignore warming their way further up your stomach as the unwanted thrills in your gut built up to a crescendo.

  “Fu… fuck, Bunny,” he sounded so needy between the squelching sounds filling the darkened room. “Are you gonna cum for me?”

  You shook your head as the pressure kept building up, muscles cramping and your one free leg attempting to kick him out fruitlessly. Your head was filled with the cries you could not voice, heavy with an agony that far exceeded any physical turmoil. You wished the pain was enough to pass out, to mute the heat coiling up further and further, but such was your plight that not even the faintest mercy was granted.  

  Although even your silent rejection only served as encouragement in Tamaki’s mind. It was the first time you were acknowledging him, the first time you were responding to any of his comments after he had tackled you to the floor. Even with your mouth covered, the tears now dried against your mascara stricken cheeks, it felt to him like the sign he had been waiting for.  

  It only drove him madder.

  You heard clothing being tugged down while he kept the eager rhythm of his tongue on you, pants and boxers being discarded in one go to free a surely painfully aching erection. Not long after that, his breathing became even more ragged against your core, one of his shoulders moving against your thighs rhythmically while his previously free hand stroked himself for some much needed relief.

  The sounds he started to make, accompanied by the slow pace he was setting as he tugged at his own cock against your dangling legs, were ones of desperation and debauchery—whines that filled you up right alongside his intruding tongue. It made you curl your toes, close your eyes again as you tried and failed to will the sensations away.  

  You thought your teeth would snap at any moment too, just from how furiously you were biting down. Yet your cunt kept pulsating against his flushed face, answering to his relentless teasing by coating his mouth in more your juices, strings of saliva mingling with them as you felt the wetness gathering around his chin too.  

  “You… you don’t need to fight it,“ he was whispering right into you, humming the sounds until they were forcing themselves inside right alongside his tongue. “You can cum, Y/N,” and with the hand he wasn’t touching himself with, he finally freed your other thigh as well, opting instead to trail a path with his extended palm until he was reaching out for your face.

  You were so tired, so preoccupied with the unwanted pleasure clouding your vision, that the thought of attempting to escape again didn’t even cross your mind. Both of your legs were now limp, supported only by his shoulders positioned below them, and the sounds filling the air were wet, squelching and downright sinful.  

  Which was why, when his palm started caressing your cheek, you were too far gone to run from the new coercive intimacy of his touch. His tongue was pulsating in and out of you, and yet your insides felt impossibly warm, impossibly empty.  

  “Bunny,“ that damned pet name again. It was something you remembered him calling you first after a particularly bad panic attack, sheepishly whispered as you held him and rocked the both of you in a calming motion. Only now it sounded absolutely depraved, filled with a lust that terrified you, and the word sullied as it was now half-moaned while Tamaki jerked himself off to your torment.  

  Or was it pleasure at that point? You kept wriggling, but he didnt think you wanted to get away anymore.  

  Some part of you noticed his rough fingers drawing circles again into the covered side of your face, another cruel joke that mimicked the way in which you had always thought appropriate to soothe him.  

  “Please,” he begged you and kept repeating it, mixing in the pleads with the insistent licks of his tongue, the shaking in his own face warning you of the furious pace his other hand was now setting for himself.

  Please, please, please. Bunny, please.

  Your orgasm hit you with a force that left you breathless, gasping for air and with a new current of despair trailing down from your dazed eyes, mimicking the arousal surely dripping down his lips.  

  You had never felt something like what you were experiencing, an orgasm so potent that it transformed your body into such a limp and pliant thing, enticing your mind into a forceful lull as Tamaki dedicated himself to drinking every last drop you unwillingly offered.

  To your subsequent shame, the hand tenderly holding you pried the crumpled shirt away from your mouth. He was finally freeing the sounds you so selfishly kept from him, and by that point you were too far gone to think of stopping him, your cries and wails filling up the shadows of the room until they were bursting at the seams.  

  It felt like forever as you kept cumming and cumming, feeling like you were forcefully plunged from one climax straight into the next. Tamaki refused to separate from your heat, instead opting for continuing to mouth his appreciation right into your tender flesh.  

  “So gorgeous for me. So good. My sweet little bunny,” he wasn’t even trying to be coherent at that point, rapidly reaching his own peak now that he had you breaking down underneath him, now that he could finally witness your undoing at his hands.

  While your orgasm reached its shaking end, however, your cunt clenching against nothing as Tamaki’s face finally left it alone and pulled back, you were again too preoccupied with the aftermath of your own pleasure to sense anything amiss. You failed to acknowledge the pause in his own movements, how his hand had stopped his own ministrations in order to reach out for your glistening folds instead, nervous digits twitching as they gathered your juices between them.  

  It almost hurt when he trailed your sex, your flesh sensitive still from the force of the after shakes still coursing through your body. A new unfiltered whine left your throat, jaw starting to ache from all the strength you had previously used in your bid to keep those very same sounds securely muted.  

  “Tamaki, please…” You sobbed, intending on pleading with him to stop, to grant you the mercy of wallowing in your shame all by yourself.  

  But all he could hear was the intoxicating sound of his name on your lips, your tone heavy from exhaustion and being utterly spent. It was the greatest melody you could’ve provided him with.

  “F-fuck,” his exclamation was equal parts devotion and raw need.  

  After his fingers were retreating, it wasn’t long before you felt him lowering your hips gently. The warm pressure of his cock prodded at your entrance, already coated with your fluids and only getting messier as Tamaki trailed it up and down your slit.

  “No, wait. Tamaki, wait,“ your voice was distraught and still feeble, what little struggle that still managed to cling to you coming back with a reckoning as a new kind of panic started setting in.  

  Of course he wasn’t wearing a condom, and of course your pleas did little to stop him now. A heartfelt sound of protest shook your vocal cords as he slowly breached your cunt, his cock sliding in inch by inch while drawing long, wet sounds out of you.

  In reality, all he could hear was the sound of his name on your lips. You could’ve been insulting him with all of your might, Tamaki didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself even if he wanted to.

  “Fuck, Bunny,” his hands fluttered between your thighs in hiccuped movements, fingers stretching your nether lips in order to give himself a better view of the place where your bodies joined, the sacrilegious union he had oh so desired for years now. “So,, he kept breaking into you inch by inch, “fucking,“ the length of him feeling eternal as he sheathed himself, “perfect.”

  You had barely any time to adjust to being stuffed before apologies were scattering out of his mouth, actions contradicting as his hips rut into you, hands making sure to keep you on display for his gluttonous eyes. It was your new brand of torment— how snug he fitted inside, how full you felt and the way his shaft curved just enough to quickly turn any discomfort you were first experiencing on its head. You wanted to feel pain, but even that was out of your reach too.

  You were chasing after a distraction, but why did you need to be running in the first place? You needed only to keep still, lay back and let your best friend take care of you for once.

  The pace he set was slow, excruciatingly so as he savoured the way in which your cunt clenched around him, the way your walls spasmed with the memory of the orgasms he gifted you with earlier. He kept hitting that spot every few shallow thrusts too, the patch of skin on your insides that made you grind your teeth while whines still somehow managed to leak out. It was with maddening guilt, then, that your mind realized the extent with which your body truly welcomed him.  

  You felt dirty, violated by a man you had trusted for years, someone you had considered family beyond reproach. And while he kept drilling into you in that leisure way of his, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly you had done to get him to obsess over you like that. What exactly you could’ve changed to stop your life from being utterly ruined.  

  But with all honesty, the answer to that was nothing. Because even without the pressure of your new boyfriend to pull him into motion, Tamaki doubted he would’ve been able to keep himself from you for much longer.

 He had loved you for so long and for so many different reasons; Your laughter which was the greatest symphony to his ears, the kindness you had always embraced him with, free of judgement and ulterior motives. Your caring soul, too, and the way in which he just knew you understood.

  “Please, please,“ and you didn’t know why you kept begging, your mouth running off on its own accord as your body tried to squirm against your intruder’s, unclear whether it wanted to escape or get even closer. “T-Tamaki.”

  But most of all, he thought he loved the way you cried out while he fucked you now, a wrecked mess for his eyes alone.  

  “Do you think you can come again for me?” he asked you between frayed exhales, still oddly meek as the shallow thrusts into your hole made sweat drip down his skin and bathe you in its shine. “I know you must be tired but… I wanna… wanna hear it properly.” And there was an underlying greed just below his apologetic tone, a craving you wondered just how long had been there waiting to be let out, “Wanna feel it, too.”

  It appeared like his own words excited him to a notorious degree, because he was rutting into you with quicker motions now, the sound of skin slapping against skin driving the despair even further into your heart. Your afflicted hand didn’t even throb anymore, your nose barely a faint nuisance either, for all you could think about was the way you contracted around him, the way the coil in your gut was once more beginning to tighten to a feverish degree.  

  And the palm against your clit too, which had stopped pressing against it in order to extend its fingers and circle them around, prodding and pushing until you were being overwhelmed by him, devoured on the carpeted floor with a face caked in blood and a body sore and resentful yet so damned inviting.  

  Your cunt was holding him so tight, it felt like you didn’t want to let go, like you needed him there… it made Tamaki, someone who had spent his entire life feeling different degrees of inadequate, think he had finally found a place to belong to.

  “Shit, Y/N, you’re… really gonna cum again? For me?” You didn’t want to hear him, didn’t want to feel him, but when he pulled out almost entirely you found your hips shamefully pushing back until his length was being swallowed whole again. “Fuck,” you heard him curse as his hands left your sopping folds in order to grip the meat of your backside, barely contained strength nailing you to the spot as he set a new frantic rhythm, “so… needy for me. So tight and beautiful, does my bunny want it harder now?”

  He was hitting your spot in relentless movements, his own hips stuttering as he strived to hold back his own impending end, and the groans coming out of you felt like they belonged to a different person. The tears in your eyes were still free falling, the taste of dried blood still covering your tongue as you continued audibly panting, and the tension in your muscles resembled a taut bowstring about to snap from the pressure.  

 Of course you didn’t answer, but you didn’t have to when your body spoke for you.

  His pace was bruising, his hands kneading your flesh as he angled you just enough to get even deeper inside you. Yet not deep enough.  

  “I love you so goddamn much,“ one of his palms left your rear so he could grab one of your shoulders, forcing you to arch back just as he demanded. “Let me show you just how much, baby.”

  By that point you were so tired, so drained from holding back, that you allowed him to manhandle you until your back was pressed flush against his stomach.  His palm snaked their way from your shoulders to your chest, quickly pushing what little of your unhooked bra still clung to your frame so he could fully expose your breasts to his zealous treatment.  

  Your nipples were hard already, you really were loving this, weren’t you?

  In this new position, it somehow felt like he was pushing against places you had never felt anyone reach before. Like, in a way, he was bruising your cervix with every one of his overeager thrusts, testing himself in order to go as far as your body would allow him. So fucking greedy for you.

  Tamaki kept massaging your breasts while he fucked you, sensitive nipples being lightly toyed with while he buried his face in your neck from behind for an instant. Because unable to stay still as he was, soon enough his lips had started to kiss a slobbering path of adoration upwards into the shell of one of your ears.  

  “I know you… fuck, know you don’t love me like that yet,” he sounded feverish while he continued to thrust into you, voice faltering to the weight of his own lust, “but it’s okay. Right now…” He pulled out almost entirely again, only to dive in with all the more resolve before you had the chance to buck into him a second time, “I can love you enough for the both of us.”

  And just like that, with the man you had previously considered your best friend whispering delirious nonsense behind you, his breath tickling your nape with each aggravating declaration, was when the overwhelming wave of your new orgasm hit you, shaking your entire body.

  So fucking tight and needy for him. With your body clamoring for him like it did, who could blame him for foolishly thinking you felt the same way? Even if you tried refuting it afterwards, the way your walls clenched around him so delectably was all the honesty he needed.

  Your body went limp in his hands a second time, for him to hold up and embrace as he saw fit, and you sensed the cadence of his motions grow even frenzier before finally slowing down into a sporadic rythm, his sex twitching inside you in a most telling way.  

  He was calling out your name in a litany of prayers, biting down on the skin he had gently been nursing before, teeth piercing you and joining the rest of the sensations overwhelming your spoiled body. And that was really all the warning you got before his release was spilled deep inside you, painting your walls in thick ropes of white while the remnants of your powerful orgasm proceeded to milk his cock for all it’s worth.

  Through the mess of pleasure and shame clouding your vision, your sobbing became even louder.

  “See, Y/N,” Tamaki whispered a few instants later, back to his nervous ways despite grinning timidly while his arms circled around you, “even if you tell me you care about someone else now, I’ll know you’ll never share with them what you shared with me.”

  And it was such a ridiculous thing to say, preposterous words to proclaim as he refused to pull out and let any drop of his cum leak out of your bruised hole, as the heated hands on your skin replicated the same old patterns you had taught him inadvertently, the same motions supposed to bring comfort and which in reality only made you feel fouler.

  “If you’d like, we can be an even more special type of best friends now,” he added after barely a beat, almost self-conscious when confronted with your somber silence, yet still bashfully content about the whole ordeal.

  Best friends, you repeated inwardly while his hands kept stroking you without pause, perhaps truly trying to console you, or perhaps just wanting an excuse not to leave you alone. But you were so tired, so devastated, that it wasn’t like you had the strength to refute him verbally.  

 In Tamaki’s delusional mind, however, that was as good as agreeing. You two were really meant to be. Even if you refused to be the special kind of best friends he had in mind, he could always become your boyfriend instead.  

  Not like you were ever going to see your previous one, anyways.

  …

   Probably the longest piece of writing I’ve posted so far… and the filthiest. If people like it, I might start extending the lenght of my fics! Otherwise I’ll try to keep it on the shorter side for my next portrait/fic convo (a yan!aizawa one hehe).

   And special thanks to my dearest pals @reinawritesbnha, @drxwsyni, @snappysnapo, @thermaflute​ and @coyambition​. They helped me proof read, gave me precious feedback on both my writings and my art and were just overall sweethearts hyping me up!! love y’all fr fr 🖤

🥀 Requests/Suggestions OPEN btw 🥀

#bnha fanart #tamaki amakiji #yandere bnha #tamaki x reader #bnha x reader #yandere tamaki #bnha imagines #bnha art #tamaki fanart #tamaki smut #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #anime fanart #mha fanart #yandere bnha x reader #artists on tumblr #just art tingz

[yelenasdog]

heavy is the head that wears the crown (mob!arvin russell x fem! pastor’s daughter! reader)

genre: angst+fluff

summary: arvin had always heard the saying “heavy is the head that wears the crown” but never truly understood what it meant. not until now

words: 4.06k

warnings: since this is based off of a tdatt, family death, mentions of death, mentions of mobs, kissing, marriage, murder, smoking, suicide, cancer and i think that’s it. it’s also kinda melodramatic, and i haven’t watched tdalt in a while so a lot could be plot inaccurate also idk anything abt the mob or mafia so like dont k*ll me thx i just like joe pesci

a/n: first, i owe the amazing concept of mob!arv to @kelieah ! so go follow her for more mob!arvin goodness!! basically i’m obsessed w 90s mob movies and watched goodfellas and casino and few too many times lately and oops here we r! i tried to write this from the narrator in tdatt’s view, so if u wanna read it like that then cool! btw the pic w the dress is just an idea of the dress reader is wearing not what she looks like! ok enjoy i’ll stop rambling

·。·。·。

“So, Arvin. I was told you paint houses? That true?”

Arvin hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn’t a painter, no, he killed people. For a price, that is.

But rather than saying no, the jab in his side from his uncle told him to answer otherwise.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

The Pastor nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, imported all the way from Cuba. He then placed what was left of the long stick in the crystal tray in front of him, the tapping of it on the reflective surface seeming almost deafening.

“Can all your family be traced down to one place, son?”

Arvin gulped, avoiding his eyes, darting his own around the heavily decorated room. Another jab to his side. He winced, meeting the older man’s eyes. He may not know much about the life he was about to enter, but he knew enough about what that meant.

“Yes, sir. They can be, minus my father and my mother. They’re gone.”

Not even a full beat of silence later, the Pastor spoke.

“How’d he die?”

Arvin was taken aback, though he knew that question was coming. His jaw clenched, as did his fist by his side. If the Pastor noticed, he didn’t speak on it, barely lifting his eyes from the document resting on his desk.

“Suicide, after the war.”

“And your mother?”

He took his lip in between his teeth, feeling the skin break, the tears well in his eyes for reasons he would excuse as the pain he was inflicting.

“Cancer. It happened when I was young, I didn’t barely even know her.”

The pastor looked up, slimming his eyes. This time he did notice the glimmering droplets, welling up in his chestnut colored eyes, threatening to fall. He appreciated the boy’s attempt to keep his emotions in check in front of his would be superior, leaning back into his chair.

“It’s alright, boy. You’re allowed to cry, it was your mother.” His southern accent was thick like molasses, his words drawing out. Arvin still felt that it wasn’t acceptable, though, so he only sniffled and directed his chin further up towards the ceiling. He stood there for a while, nerves running through his every cell. It was electric, like white lighting making its way through his veins at a painstakingly slow pace.

“Right then.”

The pastor stood, walking towards Arvin and his uncle. His expensive loafers tapped along the cold floor as he went, the sound pestering to the ears of Arvin, taunting him. He reached a soft hand out, which the boy standing opposite to him gladly took. He observed how the Pastor’s hand was without scars, calluses. Anything that would point to evidence of him being a killer, doing his own dirty work (or “the Lord’s work” as he liked to put it).

“Welcome to the family, son.”

And as Arvin smiled widely and shook his hand with an iron grip, he began to wonder what his new life would entail doing the “Lord’s work”.

He thought he had a pretty good idea, but boy, was he wrong.

“So, how’d it go?”

It was later, and Arvin was sitting with one his most favorite people, Y/n. The pair were resting in an open field, the wildflowers around her just almost competing with the beauty she held. He bashfully looked to the dirt under his shoes, noticing how only inches away, her hands picked at the damp grass.

“Went well, I think. He told me I’m ‘part of the family now’.”

She smiled at him, and in that moment with her hair so widely astray, and wearing that pale blue dress he adored so much, Arvin’s heart felt a certain emotion he hadn’t necessarily felt for someone at this multitude before. He had felt it for Lenora, his mother, his aunt and uncle. But it was different, then. Because now as he sat with her by his side, his love for her was realized at its full potential.

She began to ramble on, congratulating him on becoming a member of her father’s so called “family”, telling him how proud she was. He couldn’t keep focused on the sweet words that were falling from her lips like honey, though, as he was too caught up in his own head, his own thoughts.

“Arv?” She asked, voice laced with slight concern, but mostly with curiosity.

“Sorry, darlin’. Just thinking.”

She blushes, it’s the first time he’s called her that before. She tries to carry on conversation, though with her heart beating through that pretty dress of her’s, it was a bit difficult.

“About what?” She questioned, doing her very best not to pry too far, to be invasive in the very reserved Arvin’s mind.

Truthfully? He was promising himself that he would marry her one day, make her his wife. But telling her that he was only thinking “‘bout the future” would have to do. I mean, truthfully, he really was!

So he answered her, and she was content with said answer, abandoning the subject and returning to many praises for Arv. The standards for the “family” were high, and though she believed in him fiercely, she knew that at his core Arvin was the sweetest soul she’d ever met, and she was skeptical he could put that aside to do whatever the job would require.

“Arvin?”

He looked up, and she nearly lost her breath. It was Arvin’s sunkissed skin, tanned from working under the hot sun, the beams beating down on him. Or perhaps it was the freckles that lightly dusted his crooked nose, like a constellation from the cosmos above. Maybe even it was the mop that sat on his head, the color all the same of those sweet brown eyes of his. Whatever it was, she felt it could only mean one thing.

Y/n Y/l/n was confident she loved Arvin Russell.

“Hmm?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused canine. Adorably endearing, she thought.

And though she had much to say, she was afraid that if he were the dog in question, then the puppy had got her tongue, so to say.

“Y/n/n?” The boy said, nudging her with his elbow, making a melodious giggle erupt from her chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” Arvin teased, and she only shook her head and smiled, as he had no idea how correct he really was.

“You could say that.”

The two shared laughs over the exchange, and at some point (neither of them are quite sure when, how, or who leaned in first), their lips connected in a short and sweet kiss. It seemed that it only lasted for a moment, and as soon as they pulled apart, Arvin and Y/n both were dying for more.

But they resisted, Arvin reaching out a cautious hand to entangle with hers. She bashfully grinned, as did he (though he did his best to resist).

“Y/n, I really like you.” He had said, his thumb running small circles upon her skin. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you like me too.”  He laughed, nervous notes to the sound.

“And well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfr-”

And with a light groan, Y/n had wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing both of them to the ground. She connected their lips, the kiss so oddly blunt, an attack on his lips that he had no plan of fighting off. His hands found her hair, and her’s moved to the sides of his face, holding him so tightly, as if she was afraid he would let go.

“Yes.” She pulled away panting, her lips swollen, his flushed. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Arvin.”

They smiled as bright as the setting sun above them, and Arvin pulled her close as she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. They stayed like that ‘till the sun went down and the stars came out of hiding, the cool summer breeze blowing around them. They both still felt it, then, the love they had only just began to realize was there. And they would continue to feel it for years to come.

Like when Arvin would get back from a job, sometimes with blood splattered on his crisp white shirts, his dirty work getting, well, dirty. She would slowly peel it from his body, taking care to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She would do her best to wash the crimson stains from the fabric, sighing if it was seeming to be of no use. Arvin would come up behind her where she was working at the sink, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Arv,” she would start, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, “damn thing won’t budge.” Arvin would just chuckle, reaching up a gentle hand, gentle only for her, to tuck the hair behind her ear, quietly speaking.

“Well I think it looks pretty good, darlin’. It’ll do just fine.” He would spin her around to face him, and pepper small kisses on her skin, smiling at her reaction. And if he was hurt, she would take care to use a warm washcloth, wiping the scarlet splatters from his creamy complexion. 

The juxtaposition of the shades was always bewildering for her, oddly beautiful in a way. She never said so, though, only muttering praises of how proud she was, how strong he is, things like that. And Arvin would watch her, honey colored eyes following her as she moved about to fix him right up. No pain would have any real effect on him, not when she was there to reassure him, make him whole again.

As Arvin moved up in their small town world, in the “family”, he remained just as kind, just as gentle. Nothing really changed, no, only the lines on his forehead deepening and the crows feet becoming darker when he smiled; And Y/n’s role, as well. She stopped cleaning him up, stopped trying to rid his shirts of bloody reminders of his living. Arvin seemed to no longer be “painting walls’, but rather making sure jobs were done, everyone was staying in their places.

And things led to another, and all of a sudden Y/n and Arvin were moving into a big house, bigger than Arvin had ever even been in before. Deals and arrangements were made, settlements too.

One regular Tuesday, Arvin came home from what Y/n could tell had been a long, long, day. He was exhausted, but had this unmistakable look of excitement and joy plastered to his face. He had come in bursting through the door, not even taking off his hat or overcoat before making his way over to Y/n and kissing her silly.

“Well hello to you, too, Arv.” She laughed, amusement and curiosity both equally swirling around in her brain, wondering what could possibly have inspired this behavior.

“Things are happening, sweetheart, good, good things.” He took her hands in his, briefly shaking them before planting a kiss to them and walking away, a big smile on his face. And truth be told, not that she would admit it, it scared the Hell outta her. She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but something was itching at her brain, warning her that whatever was brewing wasn't a good thing. But nevertheless, she maintained her grin, painted lips never faltering.

The next day, when the “good things” were supposed to be happening, Arvin was seriously wondering why on God’s green Earth he had expected this to be easy.

“Come again, son?”

Arvin swallowed, shifting on his feet. He mentally scolded himself for ending up in this position again, standing in front of the Pastor’s desk, all kinds of confused. But it had to be this way, it was for the best, he knew. The sun shone through the window above the desk in front of him, right into his eyes, nearly blinding him. The Pastor didn’t really care, though.

“I’m asking for your blessing to ask Y/n’s hand in marriage, sir.”

The older man slowly nodded in understanding, taking a long drag from the expensive cigar between his fat fingers, the gold ring on his pinky also shining brightly under the harsh sun’s light.

“I just thought that after our arrangement-”

“Arvin, I don’t regret making you an heir, I don’t.” He stated, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “Hell, I can feel something big and bad coming, boy, you understand? I know God’s will is holding out on us, on this family. But it’s running thin.”

The young man clenched his jaw, internally cringing on what that might mean to the family, for the family, what it meant for Y/n. He bit his tongue, feeling the iron seep onto his taste buds.

“And I know those damn Teagardins are plotting, they’re plotting for our downfall. Making you next in line is something they won’t see coming, and I trust it’ll stay that way. But I don’t quite understand

“Well I love your daughter, I love her so much that it hurts. And if worst comes to worst…” he stopped, his bottom lip wavering for a moment, trying to carefully dance around the different outcomes of this conversation. “I feel I’ll be better able to protect her if we’re married, if she’s truly mine.” That part might have been a lie. Y/n has never been his, never would be. She was her own person, outside Arvin, outside the family. It was what he loved about her above all else.

The Pastor was quiet for a moment contemplating his response, calculating it.

“Would you die for her?”

“Yes.” The answer came without thought, it was automatic for Arvin.

The Pastor smiled widely, lifting his arms.

“So, when’s the wedding, Arv?

Turns out, it was exactly a year, a month, and 6 days until Y/n and Arvin would tie the knot. Arvin had spent time, waiting to find the perfect moment to ask her the big question. He had decided on a night where the moon was bright and the sky was clear. They sat together in what they had donned “their” field, the greenery around them rustling in the wind. Though he was nervous, he had delivered a stunning speech that had taken poor Y/n’s heart by force. It ended up with both of them crying like babies and a shiny ring on Y/n’s finger.

The wedding itself had taken place on a beautiful summer’s day, and Y/n had worn a pretty white dress that had made Arvin almost faint when he saw her, standing there on her father’s arm. She was all decked out in the most expensive diamonds and pearls, courtesy of her father, making her shine like a crystal of sorts.

It was the best night of her life, Arv’s too. But the joy they had felt must have an inevitable end, as the worst night (Arvin’s too) was soon to follow.

It had been an ambush, the death of the Y/l/n family. The death toll had managed to wrack up every member immediate member of the esteemed mob family, including the Pastor, his wife, and their two sons. A bomb planted in the trunk of their Cadillac that had gone off, placed there by who knows. 

When Arvin had heard, his immediate reaction was to thank God that Y/n had decided to stay with him that day, to go lay in the fields just the two of them. Immediately after she had been told, she had fallen into Arvin, her entire body weight being put into his arms. Sobs wracked through her frame, her tears dampening Arvin’s yellow button up.

Once she had “come to”, Y/n had grown to be furious rather than sad. As when you look at the lineage of her family, look at the ranks of the mob and who’s to rise to power when the one in front of them dies, well Arvin was right after Y/n’s big brother, Jamie.

And Y/n had loved her big brother, she had loved him very much and would like to believe that Arvin, her sweet, sweet Arvin, would never do anything of that multitude just to satiate his hunger and appetite for power. The hunger for power she wasn’t even aware he possessed. But how in the Hell was she even supposed to be sure?

“I want to believe you, Arv, I do. But I can’t! It don’t make any damn sense, Arvin!”

“You really think that low of me, Y/n/n?”

Y/n had been shouting, trying to confront him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But Arvin was calm as he spoke, his eyes only watering and his voice only bordering on wavering. Y/n reached a trembling hand to her scalp, pulling lightly on her roots. The tears slipping down her face were hot and salty and she hated it so much.

“What else am I supposed to think?” She lifted an arm, sniffling before putting her other one on her waist, the blue of her dress, the same dress Arvin adored so much, just barely matching what was to become of her mood. She was started to regress, the red hot anger from before transforming to a stormy blue of unsure waters.

“My whole family is dead, and it just so happened that you asked me to stay with you the day they died! My whole family is dead!” She screamed, her voice a crescendo of sorts. “And everyone is clean, Arv, except you. You got the motive, you got the alibi, I’ll give you that much.” She paused, briefly wiping her nose and looking to the blank wall to the left of her father’s office. “It’s funny;” she dryly chuckled, and Arvin looked up.

“You went from doing my daddy’s dirty work to gettin’ some poor bastard to do your own. Ironic isn’t it?”  

Arvin stepped towards her, pain twisting his insides up to see his best girl afraid of him, cowering away from his touch.

“You still have me, Y/n. I’m your family.”

She looked to her feet and back to him, shaking her head.

“No, Arv. You’re not. And you will be sorry for what you did to him, to all of them. You will be.” She said, walking away with her heels clicking heavily on the wooden floors. Arvin stood still for a while, not quite sure where to go next. But it dawned on him as the stained glass shone down on his feet in the most poetic manner, that he was already there.

So he dragged his feet along with him, breaths ragged and short, his head slowly tilting up towards the glorious light. He only had to go a few feet, before he sat down in the old leather chair, the only emotions he felt being those of an imposter. He thought back to all the nervous conversations he’d had with the pastor while he was sitting in that chair, a trembling Arvin usually standing opposite, awaiting instruction.

He darted his eyes across the mahogany surface in front of him, looking at all the various things that he only could associate with Y/n’s father. His valued cigar box, the crystalline tray that rested next to it. (He swore he could still smell the fresh smoke, wafting from the little dish.) He opened it, the latch clinking before his hand reached in and his fingers clasped around one of the thick rolls of tobacco. Before he could light it, he felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and dropped it back into the box, slamming the lid.

He laid back, resting his weary head. Arvin took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, before falling into a not so peaceful slumber.

He was only woken minutes later, Joseph, Y/n’s uncle, wanting to know if Arvin had seen her lately. He shook his head, muttering an annoyed “No”. Joseph got the idea relatively quickly, exiting the room. He heard the chapel’s doors close, taking that as his queue to leave once he saw the time. So he grabbed his hat and his coat, leaving the office and making his way through the dimly lit space. His attention was caught, though, by the cross by the front pews, so beautifully shining. Arvin put down his things, and walked over to the pew, sitting down on the uncomfortable hardwood. He bowed his head, putting his interlocked fingers utop the surface in front of him.

He hadn’t done this in awhile, this whole praying thing. It seemed naive in his way of life, with the things that happened around him, the people lost. But nonetheless, if ever, now was a good time to try.

“Heavenly Father, I, I, uh, I need to talk to you. To, uh, set the record straight.” His hands were sweaty, tears welling in his eyes.

“Y/n, she’s- well she’s the love of my life, God, and I don’t think she loves me anymore. Hell, she wants me dead. But I don’t blame her, I couldn’t ever. Not after...” he paused, his bottom lip shaking, “Not if she thinks I killed her family. But I didn’t, Father, I didn’t and I could never. But she don’t see that. I need her to see that.” He raised his voice, the bitter droplets rolling down his reddened cheeks, hitting his shoes.

“I can’t live without her, I won’t. So I guess I’m askin’ you a favor, Lord. Just… let her know I didn’t do it, that I would never hurt her.” His voice cracked, his words barely audible, not that whoever was listening cared.

“That I love her so much.”

Arvin muttered something of an “Amen”, and then just sat there for he wasn’t sure how long. His silence was interrupted by a mellow and raw voice, cutting through the silence like the sharpest dagger.

“It was the Teagardin family. I just found out.”

Arvin stood and turned so fast he dizzied himself, having to hold onto the back of the pew for stability. His bottom lip quivered, his flushed features gaining a confused look.

“Y/n/n? How long you been there?” He questioned, not bothering to wipe his eyes. She shifted from one foot to the other, fumbling with her hands.

“Long enough.”

There was a mutual understanding at her few words from the two of them, and an apology within them all the same. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose runny and her overall appearance disheveled. Despite that, just the fact that she was there, to him, made her the most beautiful girl in the world. 

Arvin could tell she was holding herself back, her emotions, too, as she started to speak, barely able to get through a sentence as she rambled about how she shouldn’t have assumed things, and that it wasn’t right of her to accuse her beloved of something so dire. But none of it mattered to Arvin as he strode towards her, her words only ceasing when he finally wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry, Arv.” She sobbed, gripping onto him for dear life. That was all she said, repeating it over and over again with the exception of “I love you” also being reiterated. 

Her husband spoke over her hushed tone, saying “It’s alright, doll, I know. You were right to think that, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” They continued that way for some time until they both regained their bearings, Arvin wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking down the front stairs of the chapel. 

“Let’s go home, sweet girl.” He had said, so they did. Arvin kissed the side of her head, regarding once more how he loved her, before starting the ride home, his hand on her thigh the whole time, not wanting to let her go for even a second.

His mind was plagued with thoughts of the past, and he remembered an old saying he had heard long ago. What was it? Ah, you know what they say.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

·。·。·。

how we feeling folks did we like? gimme feedback if u wanna! mwah love u, take care of urself

 xx hj

#arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #mob!arvin russell #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel x reader #tdatt fanfiction #tdatt imagine #the devil all the time #the devil all the time fic #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #we will rock queue #watch this flop LOL #tw suicide #tw suicide mention #tw cancer #tw family #tw death #tw smoking

[ragewerthers]

Near... Far... Wherever You Are...

Summary: All he wanted to do was enjoy a nice, calm commute to work with his husband. But thanks to some construction and a partner who thrives on coffee and chaos, there's little chance that Daichi is going to get his wish this morning.

A/n: This is my first entry for KuroDai Week 2021!

I went with: commute for the prompt!

This was really fun to write as I feel like I haven't written these two in forever! Hopefully you can enjoy it as well!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31143008

Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 1395

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

There were many things Daichi was grateful for in life.

A fantastic job teaching history at the local University.

A comfortable apartment that left him wanting for nothing.

And the love of one of the most amazing men he’d ever met, who also just so happened to be a science professor at the same school.

Truly he was a blessed man.

However…

The love of his life was currently two horribly out of tune song lyrics away from being throttled where he sat in the driver’s seat of their car.

They’d been stuck in traffic for over half an hour now on their daily commute to work. Construction was the main culprit and sadly small spaces combined with a coffee filled Kuroo did not go hand in hand.

God help him.

“Do you REALLY want to hurt ME?!”

“Yes.” “Do YOU really want to MAKE me CRY?!”

“God yes.”

Kuroo turned his golden eyes on Daichi, a smirk on his lips as he reached over to turn down the radio. “Come on, Dai. You know you love my singing,” he cooed, leaning over into Daichi’s space.

With a petulant grumble, the shorter man brought his hand up to push at his annoying partner's face in an attempt to stop the invasion of his personal bubble. “I never said that,” he pointed out once Kuroo finally relented and sat back in his seat. “I said I love you. Your singing, however, can raise the dead.”

Kuroo gasped at the accusation, one hand flying up to cover his mouth as the other rested dramatically over his chest.

“You wound me, Sa’amura! Was it not my crooning that once brought you to your dorm window late at night?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows at his grouchy darling.

Daichi tried to hide the smile that attempted to break free when he saw the ridiculous display. His arms crossing over his chest in defiance of it. “No. It was the yowling of a stray cat at ass o’clock in the evening that got me out of bed,” he retorted, though this time he couldn’t stop the smile from escaping as he noticed Kuroo’s pout.

“Lies and slander!” Kuroo lamented. “You’re going to sit there and tell me that my soulful serenade did nothing to your heart?!”

Daichi couldn’t hold back a snort as a giggle broke free hearing this ridiculous man’s diatribe. Quickly he tried to turn his head, not wanting to give up his grouchy facade just yet.

“No. Not a single thing. The damage to my ears, however, has been irreparab-ahahaha!” Daichi’s rather witty retort, if he did say so himself, was rudely interrupted by his own laughter when he felt Kuroo’s fingers now invading his space to attack his side.

“That is just rude, Daichi! I sang my heart out for you and all you can do is make jokes about it! How am I supposed to look you in the eyes ever again?!” Kuroo cried out dramatically, though the effect was ruined by the playful smile on his face as he continued his attack, sending nibbling pinches and soft scribbles all along Daichi’s side.

“Stahahahap it y-you… you mahahangy caha-NO! Ah! K-Kuroo nahahat thahahat!” Daichi begged as Kuroo’s hand instantly dropped down to squeeze his knee, sending a ticklish jolt right up Daichi’s spine.

“Oh ho? What was that, Dai? Did I hear an apology teetering on the tip of your tongue?” Kuroo asked, his fingers giving another soft squeeze and making Daichi jump in his seat with a small yelp. He glanced around at the cars surrounding their own praying no one saw this embarrassing display..

“D=Don’t you dare do this, Kuroo! I swear to god I will bury your body under the campus librar-HEHEHEE! Y-YOU BAHAHAHASTARD!” Daichi positively lost it as Kuroo’s fingers went on the attack, squeezing and kneading into the muscles surrounding his poor knee. Somehow being in this cramped and confined space with little room to escape just made him feel that much more vulnerable. Daichi’s body really couldn’t help but to react on instinct, shimmying like a worm even as he kicked and rocked around in his seat.

“Ready to apologize yet, Dai?” Kuroo cooed as he focused on a particular bad spot on Daichi’s inner knee that made him shriek through his laughter.

“NO-nonononahahahaha!” he reflexively cried out as Kuroo’s hand shot back up to taser and squeeze at his lower ribs.

“Oh? Still feeling feisty, huh? Then I guess you just have to suffer the consequences!” Kuroo teased as his hand moved over to vibrate right against Daichi’s stomach, sending the poor man into the loudest belly laughter yet.

However, just when Daichi thought he would have to admit defeat the blaring of a horn startled them both back to reality.

Daichi slumped in his seat, panting and giggling as he noticed Kuroo glancing in the rearview mirror. His husband either gave the other driver a wave… or perhaps something else a bit less friendly if he knew the man at all.

Sadly, Daichi honestly couldn’t tell as he continued to recover from that tickle attack, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. Apparently they’d been so caught up in their own little war of wills that their lane had started to inch forward and the car behind them thought this was a matter of life or death.

As he calmed down, Daichi glanced over to the car beside him, meeting the concerned gaze of the other driver. The look the guy was giving him was absolutely silently asking if everything was okay after witnessing what, Daichi could only assume, looked like electric shock therapy happening in the passenger side of their car.

Daichi’s cheeks flushed scarlet as he realized what others had seen and he worked up the energy to offer a wobbly smile before nodding. Ending the sad display with the worlds most awkward thumbs up before turning around and slumping in his seat.

“You... are such… an ass,” he grumbled as Kuroo now kept his eyes ahead of him, attempting to creep forward along with the rest of traffic. “But… I’ll admit that your singing isn’t… that bad.”

A slightly smug but warm smile appeared over Kuroo’s lips as he heard this admittance and he spared his poor embarrassed darling a glance. “I knew it,” he said, puffing his chest out a bit as he turned his eyes back to the road. “I knew you were only teasing me! No one can resist my dulcet tones!”

Daichi couldn’t help rolling his eyes as he watched his partner reach over to turn the radio back up. But as he heard the first few notes, concern began to bubble in his chest, his eyes glancing over to see Kuroo instantly perking up as the song played.

“Daichi! It’s our song! The one I sang to you that night!” he exclaimed, already starting to sway in time with the music as Daichi’s mind instantly relived the mortification of that night.

“God, please no!”

“Every night in MY dreams! I SEE you! I feeeeel you!!”

“Kuroo please! The other drivers are staring!” Daichi pleaded even as a smile began to spread across his face.

“That is how I KNOW you go OOOOON!”

“K-Kuroo plehehease!” Daichi found himself giggling now as he tried to reach over to cover Kuroo’s mouth, but his husband would not be silenced.

“FAR across the distance… and spaces BETWEEEEN US! You have come to SHOW you go OOOON! Come on, Dai! You know the words!” Kuroo called out as Daichi laughed at the absurdity of it all. But really… when had he ever been able to ignore his husband's antics? And that was how Daichi found himself taking a deep breath and hoping the man in the car behind them would enjoy their impromptu concert.

“Near… far…. WHEREEEEEEEVER YOU ARE!” he belted out, sending Kuroo into one of his wild, hyena laughing fits. Their shenanigans earning them a few honks and shouts from the cars surrounding them as people enjoyed the break in the monotony of gridlock.

Finally, Kuroo was able to catch his breath enough to join in once more.

“MY HEART WILL GO ON AND OOOOON!”

There were many things Daichi was grateful for in life.

And now, getting stuck in traffic with this amazing, ridiculous man was just another one of them.

#KuroDai Week 2021 #KuroDaiWeek2021 #Sawamura Daichi #Kuroo Tetsurou #Haikyuu! #my fics #tickle fic #Fluff #Humor #I love these two so much

[themoonlitjunkyard]

Ferocity

((Time for another short Demestrap drabble ^.^ I’d read a post about how some people like to make Demeter the “damsel in distress”, and evidence as to how that’s most definitely not the case...which I agree, she’s very much a tough cat in her own right, helping Munkustrap as much as he helps her, as well as sporting a dark side of her own.  It made me want to write a short little story post regarding my headcanon on that front. :3 Enjoy!))

There were some cats that have looked at Demeter and first thought of her as a helpless queen.  Too troubled by her fears and her experiences.

Munkustrap never once saw her as helpless.

From the first day she was brought to the tribe, he could see it in her eyes; a fire that was dimmed, a tenacity that kept her moving, a ferocity that she kept hidden.  He's seen glimpses of it every day since, and that inner fire along with her kind nature is what brought him to fall in love.

It was undeniable that if pushed to a fight, she would in a heartbeat. She was as protective as any of the Guardian's chosen, and any of the kittens could say that she had an effectively stern mother's stare, even to rival that of Jennyanydots or Jellylorum.

Some cats thought at first that she was cold, secretive, and temperamental.  Munkustrap knew that she had just been through too much, saw through a veil that she put on herself.  The tribe soon knew how loyal and kind she truly was when she came out of her shell and became a true member of their family.

Demeter herself thought she was cowardly.  She had days where her fears would attack and drive her to running, hiding, and weeping, away from the others.  He knew that it was only a consequence of her past, and nothing at all in her nature.

When she told him about everything that she had done under Macavity's chain, she was afraid of being perceived a monster.  He knew she wasn't...and it only made him think more about how much of herself she was hiding.

One day, Alonzo told him about seeing Demeter in a part of the yard used for training, every so often.  Not really to train, as she was pregnant, and she and Munkustrap agreed not to put her under more physical stress than needed...but she went there anyway, just to stare down the dummy cat they'd made to look like Macavity.

It was a laughable facsimile, to be honest; a couple of rucksacks had been put together, hoisted up, and painted red and orange to look like a big ginger cat with an exaggerated "mean cat" look, all for just giving a focused target for the protectors-in-training. Bombalurina had re-painted the face, including the dangerous, sunken fire-orange eyes, as she knew that it was also for Demeter's training and was to be taken seriously.

So, when he could take a moment, the silver Guardian wandered up to the training field where the dummy had been placed.  There Demeter was standing, still as a statue, her eyes meeting the (now) eerily-accurate gaze of Macavity's effigy.

He sat and watched her with a little concern for his love, though the trainer's side of his mind was mostly interested to see her emotions as she came alone to face them.  She was incredibly still, her brow furrowed as she stared white-hot daggers into the thing.  He could only guess what was going on in her mind, even now so very mysterious and untouchable, swirling like a storm.  Probably things that she'd want to say, or do, if she ever came into contact with that gaze again.  Perhaps thinking how to break his spell.

Then...there was only a split second when he saw the change in her demeanor.  The fur on her back stood on end, her ears went back, her eyes went wide, pupils contracted...and without a sound, even a screech or a hiss, she'd shot forward with incredible speed, full-force attacking the dummy and taking it to the ground, stick and all, with a resounding THUMP.

His brow rose, observing her.  There was no hesitation, no shaking around, no repeating attacks...her teeth had found the jugular, her claws the eyes.  Just for a moment, one quick deadly moment, he'd seen what she could really do with her powerful focus.

He saw the assassin that Macavity had once turned her into.

The sight gave his heart a jolt, and it faded to a gentle burn when he watched her stand up again, over the remains, back to herself.  He couldn't read the look on her face when she turned and walked away, leaving it there, her head low.  He wanted to go after her...and at the same time couldn't.  Some demons she preferred to fight alone.

Later, close to sunrise when they had always taken their time to be together, he revealed what he'd done.

"I did not wish for you to see me like that," she said, her tone somewhat apprehensive as her gaze was kept away from his.

He laid on his side looking up at her, an apologetic sort of pose.  "I had figured so...forgive me; I could not help but be curious.  But only Alonzo and I have seen you there, no others."

"Good...I suppose," she sighed, lying down beside him.

The Guardian's head tilted, and he tried to be assuring with his smile. "You know, though...you are very impressive.  That take-down was flawless."

She snorted.  "I had only gone there to see if I could meet his eyes without fear.  The rage took me over, and I felt I had to use it.  I hate that side of me, Munk.  It is a monster."

"Not if directed correctly," he pointed out, idly rolling over onto his back.  "Nothing of you is monstrous."

She finally looked back at him, disbelieving.  "You still trust me so, even after seeing that?"

He took her paw and pressed it to his chest.  "With everything I have.  And what is more, I believe that you could take him down once and for all; you need only be prepared for every move he makes."

Demeter thought silently about that, her pads gently flexing through his fur. "Would that I had your confidence."

"You may borrow it," he half-joked. "But, do not be ashamed of yourself.  You are one of the most courageous queens here, and I hope that you see it."

She smiled, and he could see the emotion, the confidence glittering in her alluring gaze.  "Well...if you are so certain it is there...maybe I will.  Hm," she smirked and slowly drifted her paw down his belly, "Does the thought of my having a dangerous side also thrill you?"

He chuckled shyly.  "Well, ah..."

"I knew it," she snickered back and ran her tongue along his cheek. "But...I truly appreciate it...your trust in me."

He purred, a deep rumble under her touch, and it told her everything...no words needed, the trust was there to stay.

#text post #writings #my writings #fanfictions #cats fanfictions #cats writings #cats musical #cats the musical #jellicle cats #munkustrap #demeter cats #demestrap #silver and gold

[azucanela]

HOME PT. 1 | ZUKO

HOME MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: In which Zuko has a chance to go home.

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

WARNINGS: blood, weapons, fights, death threats

A/N: we love zuko in this house, also send stuff into my ask box im bored and need ideas to write kashdkfkjasdhlf 

When Zuko was banished, it seemed that Ozai was more upset that Y/N intended to go with him, than at the pain he had caused his son. She was a talented firebender, capable of defeating even Azula, his prodigal daughter, in an Agni Kai. Her tactics and strategies, despite her young age, proved effective time and time again. She had the makings of a great General for the Fire Nation Army, and Ozai saw it as a waste for her to search for someone who would likely never be found. Not when Y/N L/N had so much potential. 

Y/N just saw it as proof that Ozai never truly cared for his son. His recognition of the impossible task he had bestowed upon his own child.

At the end of the day, her loyalty lied with the prince, so she set sail alongside him and his Uncle, in search of an avatar that had been gone for a century. They had known each other since they were children, when Ozai had taken interest in her natural talent for firebending. She had been raised alongside Zuko and Azula, training with them. But as most knew, Azula had an affinity for inflicting pain to those around her in her free time, so when the time came for a sparring match between Y/N and Azula, the results were deadly.

Ozai decided Y/N would stick around a little longer when she managed to beat Azula that day.

Zuko had never been competitive, not like Azula was. Though he’d asked her for tips on how to improve, and she’d graciously assisted him. And so, a friendship blossomed in the fire of their youth. She became his sparring partner, and as they grew older, his right hand.

She never regretted stepping onto the boat with Zuko the first day of his banishment. But she was beginning to regret ever speaking with him in the first place. He had no goal other than finding the Avatar, it was his sole purpose at this point, even after nearly three years of searching. But there were moments in which she found him rather… peaceful. He was almost the same boy who Y/N had played tag with as a child all those years ago. And in these moments, when she caught a glimpse of the real Zuko, she couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in her chest each time they had an actual conversation. 

One that wasn’t about his never ending quest to find the Avatar.

The conversations they had in the middle of the night, when sleep failed to reach them. The ones they never mentioned when the night was over. Because what happened in Zukos’ room at night, stayed there.

Y/N had only ever needed to knock once and Zuko was opening the door to his room on the ship. She gave him a tight lipped smile as she slipped inside, hoping no one noticed because they both knew what it would look like from an outside perspective. Not that she cared what others thought. What happened between her and Zuko was their business, though nothing ever really happened. He would try to make tea, they would dump the tea because of how bad it tasted, Y/N would remake the tea, and then they would talk.

Sometimes she wished it was more than that though. 

It was a foolish dream to have, she recognized that as she took the teapot before he could even make an attempt to boil the water. “You couldn’t sleep either?” She asked as she began to heat the water with her firebending, holding the pot above her free hand.

Zuko scoffed, sitting back on the mat he referred to as a bed, “no, I just knew you’d be awake.” 

Y/N frowned, “you should’ve gone to bed.” She places the tea leaves into the steaming pot, moving to sit with her legs crossed, across from him on the floor.

“And put the entire ship at risk?” Came his response, his brow raised. 

Y/N laughed lightly, “what are you talking about?” Her head tilts as she looks at him in confusion, grabbing the two solitary teacups on his desk. 

“Last time you were left unattended you nearly blew up our only means of transportation.” He deadpanned. 

She rolled her eyes, looking to him as she spoke, “that was one time-”

Zuko was smiling now, “remember the time you nearly killed that man with a cabbage cart because he-” 

“Okay! I get it, you can stop now.” Y/N exclaimed, cheeks warming as she recalled the event. She handed him his cup of tea, and for a moment she could even forget that the only reason that they were on the ship in the first place was to find the Avatar, for a moment she could forget that Zuko had changed 

His hand grazed hers as he took the cup, mumbling a small, “thank you,” before he took a sip. Looking out the small window of the ship, he realized he would never forget his banishment. His home. He quickly brought his attention back to Y/N, only to realize she was already looking at him. 

She brought herself closer to him on the floor, “what are you thinking about?” She recognized the look on his face, the nostalgia, the pain. 

If he was honest, he was now thinking about the small amount of space between them since she’d moved to be seated beside him on the mat. Though he responded, “home.” 

Y/N hummed in response, taking a sip of her tea, “you miss it?” She asked.

Zuko scoffed, “that’s a dumb question. Of course I miss it. Why wouldn’t I?” Y/N was tempted to tell him that he shouldn’t miss the home that cast him aside for thinking of the best interest of the people. The home that was ruled by the man who scarred him for life. The man he still seeked validation from. 

Instead she shrugged, placing her tea onto the floor of his room, “well I don’t.”

His head snaps up, eyes meeting hers, he looks to her incredulously, “what do you mean you don’t? We’ve been away for so long!” He exclaims, his temper beginning to show. It was rare for him to explode at her like he tended to with other crew members, Iroh had pointed it out to him, and though Zuko shut him down quickly, nobody could deny the accuracy of the statement. But they had grown up there, together. All of his happy memories, all of his dreams, his past and hopefully his future, were all there. Had that all meant nothing to her?

“The Fire Nation was never my home, Prince Zuko.”

He almost flinches when she uses his title. And she quickly changes the subject, though she can feel it lingering in his mind as they have their tea. 

She ended up falling asleep in his cabin after they talked for the rest of the night, awakening in the room she internally groaned, knowing what it would look like when she set foot outside of his room. Being on this ship for so long, she knew her fellow crewmates were looking for some gossip to spice up their lives a bit. Looking around, Y/N realized he wasn’t there. She brought a hand up to rub her temple she sighed when she sat up, deciding she’d go back to her room and get dressed before heading up to the deck.

They’d been coasting around Earth Kingdom waters that recently been put in Fire Nation control, and as she entered the deck of the ship, Y/N realized they had docked on one of the piers. The sea of people around the market made her wonder what the area could have to offer as she turned to look back on the deck, where Iroh had been seated with his Pai Sho board, along with several other crew members loitering in the area. “Good morning Iroh,” she said with a smile as she made her way towards him, “do you happen to know what we’ll be doing today?”

He smiled up at her, gesturing for her to take a seat as he responded, “well Prince Zuko was not very pleasant this morning, so perhaps something more violent.” He took the teapot on his side, “you should probably go look for him before my nephew does something unwise.” Iroh explained with a sigh, refilling his cup. 

Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile, suddenly grateful she hadn’t gotten comfortable and taken a seat when he’d offered it, “of course. He likely intends to do something irrational and stupid.” She cracked her knuckles, aggressively securing her dagger at her side as annoyance bubbled up inside her, “I’ll see you later Iroh.” 

She decided that if thugs hadn’t attacked him yet, she would, stepping off the ship and into the crowd. She slipped between the people with ease, making her way to some of the stands, shopkeepers yelling out deals as they tried to sell some of their products.

And then Y/N got distracted. It started out with a new dagger for her growing collection, then a new holster for said dagger which was now strapped to her leg along with the weapon. Would you look at that, with all this new stuff she was getting she’d definitely need a bag to carry it. Right? Right. Then it was some rare tea leaves for Iroh and new cookbook for the chef that lived on the ship, though it only served as a reminder that she was yet to eat. 

Making her way towards the part of the market that specialized in foods, the aroma filled her nose. Holding the strap of the bag tighter as she maneuvered through the busy market as she’d spotted a stand with a variety of foods. Y/N inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet smell as she reached the stand before picking out what she wanted to purchase. In the corner of her eye she saw cabbages and couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto her face. Bringing out her small pouch of money, she went to hand the shopkeeper some coins, but the old woman shook her head.

“The young man over there paid for your things already Miss.” She explained, “scary guy. Just shoved this bag of money at me and told me to keep the change while you were on the other end of the stand shopping.” Though she ended up pointing in the direction of this elusive ‘young man,’ Y/N already knew who it was as she turned around and saw Zuko brooding against a wall in one of the emptier parts of the market.

She sighed, “thank you ma’am. Have a nice day.”

The old woman nodded, and Y/N put the foods into her bag as well, grateful for the variety of pockets within it as she made her way to where Zuko stood. “She had cabbages. I’m shocked you didn’t attack her.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “where have you been all morning?” She pulled two of the bite-sized pastries she’d bought from the old woman, handing one to Zuko that he begrudgingly accepted as they began to walk down the empty street before taking a bite out of her pastry.

“Around.” Came Zuko’s response as he ate the small pastry. “I just wanted to browse the marketplace.” Y/N took another bite of her pastry as she listened, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. 

She scoffed, “Zuko, I swear.” They were entering a plaza, with a fountain in the center, “it’s my job to know where you are. I’m here to make sure you don’t die during your search for the Avatar, because I’m your right hand, remember?” She exclaimed, hoping he hadn’t noticed that she got side tracked in her search for him,

“You were my right hand. At home. Not that it was your home.” He corrected her pointedly. It was quickly becoming clear that her statement had bothered him, and he wasn’t going to let this go. 

She looked at him incredulously, throwing what was left of her pastry at his chest, causing him to roll his eyes and throw what was left of his own at her face, though she dodged it. Y/N raised her brows, taken aback by this statement and action. He continued to walk as she stopped, dead in her tracks, “oh, is that what this is about? Because if you wanna talk about that we can-” A deep exhale escaped her, followed by silence. 

Zuko’s brows furrowed, “what? Don’t wanna finish the sentence?” He asked as he turned around, only to find that she had a knife pressed to neck, and was surrounded by a group of men.

Of course it had been thugs.

One of them reached to the pouch on her side, yanking it from its place on her belt while the other looked up to Zuko, “you’re going to give us your money, or your little girlfriend is gonna die.” He threatened, pressing the knife harder onto her neck, drawing blood.

Inhaling sharply, Y/N managed to let a bitter laugh escape her despite the situation, “in case you didn’t notice, we had just been arguing. I doubt he has a problem with my death at this point.”

Zuko glared at her, “could you shut up for one minute?” He exclaimed.

“Oh, I think I’m about to be shut up permanently but okay Zuko.” She replied, a sarcastic smile on her face as he narrowed his eyes at her.

He quickly returned his attention to the thugs, who had exchanged looks due to the strangeness of the exchange they were witnessing. “Here’s what’s actually going to happen. You are going to let her go, and if you don’t, you’re going to die.” 

The man with a knife against her throat laughed, “and how are you gonna manage that?” He asked, his four companions moving forward to form a circle around Zuko, weapons in hand. “We’ve got the upper hand.”

“Well, I’m not going to kill you. My little girlfriend will. And,” Zuko paused, eyeing the men surrounding him as he cracked his neck, “you don’t have the upper hand. Not while I have Y/N.”

The man was about to speak when a dagger suddenly pierced his leg, causing him to yelp in pain, dropping the knife he’d held into Y/N’s free hand. She threw the blade in Zuko’s direction and he caught it with ease as he dodged one of the men that lunged at him. 

Y/N kicked her captor’s injured leg, causing him to fall to the ground and allowing her to slip her bag off of her shoulder, wrapping the strap around his neck as she rammed the hilt of the dagger onto his head, effectively knocking him unconscious. Turning around to assist Zuko, she had a deadly realization.

One of the men was missing. 

Everything happened rather quickly after that, she extended her hand, preparing to begin firebending at the man that was attempting to sneak up behind Zuko, except no fire came out. Instead, a whip of water extended from the fountain, slamming him into a nearby building. 

The other three men exchanged looks, stopping their movements momentarily, then taking a few steps back before breaking into a sprint in the opposite direction.

Y/N was still staring at her hand in shock, though her eyes soon rose to find Zuko staring at her as well, the look in his eyes unreadable. A shaky breath escaped her, “guess that conclude your search.” She swallowed nervously, squeezing her eyes shut as she continued, “you can go back home now.” 

“We should get back to the ship.” Came his response. “You need medical attention.” Moving towards her, she took a step back.

“Zuko-”

“You aren’t the Avatar, Y/N.” He stated firmly.

“Really?” She exclaimed, disbelief clear in her voice, “because it sure does look like I am. No one else is capable of bending more than one element!” She pointed out. 

Zuko shook his head, “the Avatar is an Airbender. You were born and raised in the Fire Nation.” He rationalized. “It’s not possible for you to be the Avatar, even if the Airbender is dead, the next Avatar would be from one of the Water Tribes.” Zuko opened his mouth to continue speaking but Y/N cut him off.

“Zuko.” Her voice came out as a whisper. “What are you doing?” 

In that moment he is silent, and she wonders if he’s reconsidering his choice. In actuality, a million thoughts are running through his mind, maybe he could fake her death? Tell them that she died in this town, let her live out her life in peace while he continued a false search for the Avatar. Maybe this was a fluke, or there was a Waterbender hiding in the shadows that saved their lives. Or maybe he was in denial.

The only thing he was sure about was that Y/N wasn’t going back to the Fire Nation a prisoner. 

“Protecting the only home I have left.” 

Because sometimes home isn’t a place. It’s a person. 

You can imagine their shock when they discovered the last Airbender.

a/n: are there two avatars? maybe. is the reader a dual bender? maybe. will we ever find out? idk

#zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #zuko #zuko atla #avatar the last airbender #atla #lok #legend of korra #prince zuko #prince zuko atla #atla x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #iroh makes an appearance #zuko atla x reader

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Unabridged: Proteus

The X-Men, those beautiful mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. We’ve been untangling that history for a while, but sometimes, you really want a more in-depth look. Interested? Then read the (un)Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 125 - 128) - by Chris Claremont and John Byrne

Fun* fact: this particular issue is the oldest comic I physically own.

* for a given value of fun

Something sinister lurks on Muir Isle…

This arc is very much set up like a horror movie. It starts out as a regular X-Men narrative, where Claremont is weaving along several plot threads. We check in with the X-Men in Westchester, we check in with Magneto who has retreated to Asteroid M and we even check in with Xavier in space, who finally learns more about the true scope of the Phoenix and its nature. Finally, we’ve got Jean stationed at Muir Isle, where Moira is investigating the sheer scope of her powers. (She has realized how strong Jean truly is; akin to a god. Her theory is that Jean’s recent power dampening is the result of her human mind trying to cope with her massive power level.) It’s about as everyday as it gets for the X-Men, but, well…

I always thought Jean molecularly restructured her own outfit into the Phoenix-costume whenever she needed to change, but here, she just… wills it away? Also, why did you need an outfit change for this, anyway? Does the costume simply appear whenever she exerts too much of her powers, like an angry forehead vein? So many questions. (X-Men 126)

Other residents at Muir are Polaris, Havok and the Multiple Man, all of them blissfully unaware that something skulks about in the shadows: the remains of an unfortunate captain, whose body has been taken over by something… other.

But someone else is skulking around in the shadows, too. Jean isn’t aware of it, but a familiar stranger is manipulating her from the sidelines.

I’ve been gaslighting a cosmic force, ask me how! (X-Men 126)

1979 marks the first appearance of the Hellfire Club, though we only meet one member for now: Jason Wyngarde. (Maybe all of this could have been avoided if he’d had a Barbie doll to dress up in black lace as a child, but alas.) ‘Jason’ is a pseudonym and though most people these days know that he’s a familiar villain from the X-Men’s past, the reveal of his true identity will follow later.

Meanwhile, Beast finally gets off his ass to check on the Xavier mansion, even though the X-Men must have been tripping intruder alarms for months now. Still, we do get this sweet moment out of it:

Of course she’s going to be surprised at the sheer amount of plot contrivances that were thrown up to keep all y’all apart for a full year. (X-Men 126)

Beast knows that Jean went to Muir, so Scott immediately goes for the phone. Lorna picks up, but during the call she starts screaming, leaning heavily into the horror genre. She fends off the withering remains of the captain, so instead, ‘Mutant X’ jumps into a duplicate of Jamie Madrox and promptly flees to the mainland on a boat.

Guuurl, that body is snatched. (X-Men 126)

The X-Men (sans Beast) hit Muir Isle, where Moira debriefs them. Moira reveals who Mutant X is: his name is Kevin MacTaggart, her son, who has the terrifying power to warp reality. Because his power is so vast, he burns through bodies at an alarming rate. He can only be contained - or killed - by inorganic metal. In an effort to contain him (and, presumably, help him at some point), Moira locked him in a metal cell. He was kept there, alone, for god knows how long, until Magneto accidentally freed him. They know he escaped the island and, because of his parasitic need for fresh host bodies, Moira posits that he’ll be heading for a big city.

Kevin - who dubs himself Proteus - racks up an impressive body count in the country side, killing 7 people in total. (6 people and 1 dupe? Eh.) He’s a terrific villain, because he’s powerful, has a well-defined weakness and, even though it’s not impossible to emphasize with him -- isolation tends to drive people mad -- the way he discards his victims is truly chilling.

The X-Men chase after him, Wolverine picking up the scent. When Proteus tries to claim him, Logan’s adamantium skeleton repels him. In response, he unspools reality.

I’ve had this trip. I think they call this strain Dragon’s Dynamite. (X-Men 126)

Storm intervenes, but Proteus leaves Nightcrawler and especially Wolverine rattled. Logan’s heightened senses root him in reality more than most, and when Proteus uses his powers, everything is just screaming wrong at him. But nobody is safe: little Kevin MacTaggart turns gravity against Ororo, taking her out as well.

He tries to claim Storm, but Moira repels him, sniping at him from afar. Proteus fears (metal) bullets, knowing they can kill him. When Cyclops realizes Moira’s shooting to kill, he intervenes - X-Men don’t kill, after all. Moira knocks him out with her gun, but Kevin escapes in the confusion. Moira finally realizes where her son is headed, while the X-Men regroup.

In Edinburgh, Moira pays Joe MacTaggart a visit - her husband, Kevin’s father.

The MacTaggarts are definitely in the running for the Xavier/Marko-award for Fucked Up Family Dynamics. (X-Men 127)

There’s a calculating coldness to Moira’s character that I’ve never responded well to, but I like how Claremont fills in the blanks here. It’s part unhappiness, part a deep frustration with her inability to help her own son. I wonder how Kevin was a child, before his mutant gene activated: was he a sweet boy, or one with a cruel streak? Did she fear what he might become?

There’s a few gaps in Claremont’s narrative, but Hickman has drawn on this very well, I think: the Moira X in HoXPoX is equally calculating, equally cold. But how can she not be? How often has she raised Kevin? How often has she had to kill him? How many times has she watched these people, these X-Men, die?

Anyway, Moira’s warning is as effective as anger management therapy for Sabretooth, because Kevin comes by Joe’s office a little while later and snuffs out his dad. Phoenix hears Joe screaming telepathically across the moors, allowing the X-Men to pinpoint him. Claremont also makes sure to show that Jean’s power is steadily growing:

Polaris be like: “No, no, I’m carrying my own emotionally stunted Summers boy, thank you.” (X-Men 127)

Proteus takes Moira hostage as the X-Men confront him. They fight.

Ordinarily, I don’t pay a lot of attention to the fight scenes, because recapping those usually boils down to “Cyclops conks Magneto in the helmet” or “Wolverine snikts Pyro in the gas tank”, but this one is truly great. John Byrne delivers some excellent work, showcasing the scope of Proteus’ powers through his art, his panelling. Don’t just take my word for it:

I love how trippy all of this is. Pivoting gravity, changing an optic beam into flowers… Sure, Proteus might be a callous and cruel SoB, but he’s also one imaginative motherfucker. (X-Men 127)

One by one, Proteus manages to distract or take out the X-Men, either by endangering passers-by, encasing them in amber (Storm) or burying them alive (Banshee). One of my favorite details is how afraid they all are: especially Wolverine and Nightcrawler hesitate before jumping into the fray. For them, this villain is truly beyond their scope.

In the end, it’s Phoenix who manages to drive him back, outside of the center of Edinburg and up an old castle, where there are fewer civilians to threaten. There, on the ramparts, it’s Colossus who makes the final stand: he destroys Proteus’ physical body and realizes that right now, there’s only one thing they can do to stop him. All it will cost is Piotr’s innocence.

Showcasing an ancient Japanese truth: Psychic Pokémon are weak to Steel attacks. (X-Men 128)

Proteus scatters to the winds and the X-Men emerge victorious, though Moira has lost both her son and her husband after this ordeal. Moreover, I think this is the first villain that the X-Men explicitly kill, simply because they have no other options left. This marks the first time that their ideal of mutant rehabilitation fails. What’s worse is that Kevin MacTaggart was essentially nothing more than a supremely screwed up boy who got access to way too much power way too quickly.

I wonder if it would have turned out differently had Xavier been there. (I also wonder if it’s a coincidence that this takes place right before the Dark Phoenix saga.)

I think this might be Claremont’s best arc yet, heightened by John Byrne’s excellent art. Chris deftly mixes horror, action and his usual soap opera elements, serving one cohesive narrative that (for once) doesn’t leave much hanging. Proteus is an excellent villain whose powers work visually (pay attention, MCU) and whose entire being touches on one of the same aspects as Krakoa: can and should every mutant fit into any sort of normal society?

If you have someone who’s interested in vintage X-Men and you want to recommend something that doesn’t require a confusing explanation of all the necessary backstory (and perhaps a crude sketch of the Summers and/or Lensherr family tree), I would recommend this arc.

And the rest, as they say, is Hellfire. 1980 is gonna be a doozy.

#x-men #x-men abridged #abridged x-men #cyclops #phoenix #storm #nightcrawler #colossus #wolverine #banshee #chris claremont #john byrne #proteus #moira mactaggart #mastermind #hellfire club #mutant x #magneto #polaris #havok

[rosalynshields]

The Soldier’s Chase

By: Rosalyn Shields

Pairing: Dark-ish Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, Violence, Killing, Explicit language, Reluctance/Non-con, Unprotected sex, Breeding Kink, Oral Sex (female receiving), Vaginal Sex, Smut. I hope I didn't miss anything.

This is for JTargaryen18′s Haunted House 2020 Challenge

The Premise: A celebrity haunted house for charity will be open one night only, Halloween night. You spent days trying to get a ticket online for the event. Thanks to a bad day on Halloween, you get there only a minute before the line closes. You’re the last person to go in and thinking that’s either really bad (everyone is tired or would be in a hurry to see you out) or really good (maybe you’d get some extra time with the one you came to see). 

You are never seen again.

While you are walking into the Haunted house... HYDRA is using Halloween to bring forth Captain America's Mate but it just so happens that the Avengers were attacking the base at the same time. You escape. Once Steve realized who they had... he immediately went on the hunt. The allure of having someone that is HIS and his alone is too tempting. So, you are in an alternate universe scared out of your mind in the woods being stalked by a predatory Captain America... who also happens to be a werewolf.

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

Y/N

You were running late. This was particularly annoying as you were on your way to a haunted house event in your area. It's a one night only charity event that you had spent days online trying to get a ticket for. Once you heard that Chris Evans was going to be there dressed up as Captain America you had to get tickets. Steve Rogers is quite the weakness for you, and you couldn't resist seeing Chris Evans rockin' the Cap look.

 Of course, everything had to go wrong today, normally you love Halloween but sadly you had to work that day. It has been the most stressful day filled with pointless meetings and small talk. You should’ve just taken the day off. From the moment you arrived you were running behind schedule which lasted all day. By the time you were finally able to leave work you were almost two hours behind your normal schedule.

 This only left you two hours to get changed and drive the hour to the haunted house. You can only pray there wasn't a lot of traffic because while normally it didn't take long for you to get ready you wanted to be perfect. The Haunted house rules wouldn’t allow you to wear a costume which was a shame since you had a few amazing costumes that would have gone perfectly within the Marvel Cinematic Universe but you had a few things that would work in a pinch.

 You could have gone with a 1940’s type of outfit that you knew would have made quite an impression on Steve Rogers. You figured that most of the other women who paid to see Captain America would go that route not thinking that you guys weren’t meeting the actual Steve Rogers. Who knows what was to Chris Evans’ taste? So. Instead, you decided to go with something similar to SHIELD Agent’s tactical outfit. 

 It wouldn’t scream costume and it made you feel sexy and badass and that's all that really mattered. Black long sleeve under armor shirt with a form fitting leather vest over it, black tactical pants and belt with black combat boots. If it had been a straight up costume you would have added a fully equipped utility belt and shoulder and hip holsters fully equipped with fake guns. Maybe you would have also sewed on a SHIELD patch or something as well.

 It was all pretty easy to move in and it was both airy enough to keep you cool but heavy enough to keep warm if need be. Since it wasn’t a costume you settled for your normal outing stuff as you are a lone female heading to an event alone in the city. It was probably overkill but you packed a couple of knives, a combat knife in each boot and pepper spray in your left front pocket. Along with your ID, phone, keys and a couple of pens 

 Hopefully, they don’t have a metal detector because explaining why you have knives on your person would probably be difficult. They weren’t large knives, but people tend to get touchy over that sort of thing. It was all for self-defense, you were one of the few that got self-defense classes that included close quarter combat and weapons. All in all, you managed to get out on the road within 45 minutes but knowing your luck today traffic was going to be insane.

 Traffic was insane. What would have normally been an hour drive max took almost an hour and a half. You managed to arrive at the Haunted House event minutes before they close the doors. It was pretty clear you were the last person there, which is either really bad because it's possible everyone is tired or in a hurry to see you out. Or really good and maybe you’d get some extra time with Chris Evans as Captain America. Swoon.

 “You barely made it in time, I was about to close up.”

 “Sorry, traffic was insane. Oh, here is my ticket.” you reply as you show your phone for the electronic ticket to be scanned.

 “Ah, you got the Captain America package. Go ahead, you should be able to get some one-on-one time with Chris Evans.”

 “Great. Thanks.” You replied, shoving your phone in your side pocket.

 As you walk through the doors (thankfully no metal detectors) you start to look around, you can see each room of the Haunted House was carefully constructed for each celebrity and their special characters. You kind of grin as you spot Henry Cavill as Geralt of Rivia and Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes. If you had time you would stop by their rooms as well but for now you wanted to see the man you thought of as your Captain.

 As you get closer to the Captain America room you could feel the anticipation rising, you had been looking forward to this since the first Captain America movie came out. You had always felt connected to Steve Rogers and you had no idea why. So, you resolved to meet Chris Evans and hopefully get over this strange obsession with Captain America. As you walk into the room your eyes widen as you take a look around. 

 It looks like a HYDRA facility that is in the process of being raided by the Avengers. You could see Chris Evans standing alone. He was leaning up against a control panel in his full Captain America gear causing your heart to skip a beat. As you started to walk closer to finally meet him you started to feel woozy. It was as if each step you took was being weighed down and your vision started to blur. As you reach Chris Evans darkness overtakes you.

 Chris Evans' mouth drops open in shock as he watches the girl in black disappear before his eyes just as he took a few steps towards her so he could talk to her. He brings his hands up to rub at his eyes figuring it was just a figment of his imagination. The Halloween spirit messing with his mind. It isn't till the next day when he hears about Y/N Y/L/N missing from the Haunted House charity event from the night before on the news that he started to truly freak out.

 ~~~~~

An Alternate Universe 

The doctor sighed deeply as he watched the last of equipment being set up. They had one shot at this, using a combination of science and magic to accomplish their goals. They are planning to use the magic of the full moon of All Hallows Eve plus the use of The Foster Theory which is portal technology to acquire an incredibly special person. A Mate. More accurately the Mate of Captain America. A Mate, a valuable asset. Once they have the Mate they can truly begin. 

 She would be the perfect undercover asset once they get her to comply. She would be the perfect subject to be brainwashed and secretly embedded within the Avengers. As a bonded Mated pair, they can have quite a bit of control over each other and not just emotionally. The Mate of Captain America under the control of HYDRA can accomplish much in HYDRA's name. First things first they need to bring her here, possibly through time and space. 

 It doesn’t matter from what time or from what country or dimension as long as they get her. They could not fail, they needed her for their plan to work. The doctor gives a self-satisfied smile as the last component is completed. All they have left to do is wait for the moon to be full. Then, they can flip the switch and say the words then she should appear. If she doesn't arrive then they have to wait another year for the perfect conditions to try again. The time has come. 

 The moon was full. The lead Agent walked up to the portal and nodded to the scientist. He started the scientific portion to make the portal and he proceeded to say the words that would focus the portal on the good Captain's Mate. At first the HYDRA scientists watched the alternate dimension taking notes on Subject M's world. Then the lead Agent gave another signal and they fine-tuned the portal to just their future asset. 

 They observed her long enough to realize where she was headed as they spotted him. She was about to meet with the Captain America of their world. They couldn't allow that to happen. They focused the portal again to get in as close as possible. The lead Agent nodded again at another agent. The new Agent prepared to grab Subject M once the portal was close enough. As she got closer to Captain America, they could see her clearly feeling the effects of the portal. 

 Once she was about 5 feet away from Captain America the unknown Agent's hand shot out. It went through the portal and grabbed the girl just as she fainted backwards. She fell back into the portal landing right into the waiting Agent's arms. They succeeded. All their planning and preparing. They succeeded! They brought Captain America's Mate from another dimension. Now all they had to do is prepare for Subject M to wake up so they may begin their good work. 

 Perhaps, she would be cooperative, but it was unlikely that the Mate of Captain America would be willing to follow HYDRA's plans. But with brainwashing much could be accomplished. Y/N woke up completely disoriented and confused with her head pounding. He hands went straight to her pounding head refusing to open her eyes. The last thing she remembered was seeing the handsome face of Chris Evans before nothing. Did she faint? 

 She didn't even get to meet Chris! The thought that perhaps he was still around you caused you to gingerly open your eyes. You winced as you took in the bright lights. Well, it looked as though you were still in the Haunted House. More specifically in the HYDRA base looking room. Which meant Chris Evans could still be there. You couldn't believe you fainted. You stop your rambling thoughts as you finally take note of your surroundings. 

 Your eyes narrow as you finally notice the dozen men and women surrounding you all wearing the HYDRA uniform. You also noticed the hard examination table you were laying on with distaste. What the fuck? You thought.

 "Ah, Subject M. You are awake. Thankfully, the interdimensional travel didn't knock you out for long."

 "Wow, you guys are really playing up the whole HYDRA costume. Also, my name is Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N." You informed him sitting up. You were amused and impressed at their dedication to their costumed personas.

 "Ah, Miss Y/L/N. I have some bad news. We are not playing it up as you so eloquently stated."

 "What?" You asked. You were very confused.

 "You are in fact here because we brought you here."

 "Okay… where exactly is here then?"

 "You are in HYDRA facility 7-5 Alpha but to be more direct you are actually in an alternate universe.

 "In an alternate universe? You are fucking with me, right?"

 "No. I am in fact not fucking with you," the HYDRA goon replied mockingly. 

 He then made a hand gesture to another Agent who started up a machine. A portal opened up. You gasped as the portal proceeded to show you Chris Evans frantically looking around before rubbing his eyes as the Haunted House closed. You could see the clear differences between the Haunted House room and this one. There, you could tell the HYDRA Base's so-called equipment was fake. 

 "Why am I here?" You asked. 

 It was vastly different from where you were now. Everything was real, the equipment, the portal. Everything. You swallowed the lump of fear as you shifted your legs. You moved both of your feet slightly. It was a very natural movement that looked like you were just shifting around or twitching. You noted the feel of the knives that were still in your boots. They didn't pat you down, they just laid you on the examination table.

 "We have brought you here from your universe as you are the Mate of a high-profile target."

 "Mate… what the fuck are you talking about?" You exclaimed.

 "Ah, you must not have Mate's in your world. 

 "No, HYDRA dick face. We do NOT have Mate's in my world."

 "Subject M, you will show some respect, or you will be punished as needed." He growled waiting for acknowledgement at your nod he continued. 

 "What do you know of werewolves?"

 "That they don't exist… They are fictional beings that can typically transform into wolves. They have supernatural strength and healing factors. Depending on the lore they can have special powers. It would be really fascinating except they do NOT exist."

 "In our world, werewolves exist. You Mate is one of the most powerful werewolves in our world and you my darling girl is his mate. His true mate.”

 “His Mate? His true Mate? I don’t understand.”

 "In our world a Mate is precious. Your perfect match in every way. Your mate can influence almost everything about you. You would do anything for your Mate. Mate bonds cannot be broken."

 “How could I possibly be someone’s Mate? I’m not a werewolf.”

 “In your world? No. In ours? Perhaps. Perhaps not." The goon shrugs. 

 "No matter, you are his Mate my dear and we have you. You will be our most valuable asset. Once you are prepared you will be given to your mate then you two will bond and then HYDRA’s plans will begin.”

 "So, who the fuck is my high-profile target of a Mate?" You ask, making sure to bring your hands up to mimic quotations around the word Mate.

 This is fucking bullshit. Sounds like they intend on giving me to some random guy to basically be raped to cement this Mating bond so they can control him through me.

 "Why, you were already on the way to see him in your world. His name is Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America."

 "Captain America?!? Captain America is a werewolf?" You exclaim just as a huge explosion goes off shaking the base. 

 "Sir, the Avengers have infiltrated the base." 

 "Agent 37, take Subject M out of here. Take her to safe house 9-3-5 Charlie. They must not retrieve her."

 "Yes, sir." Agent 37 replied before grabbing your arm to lead you out of the base. His grip was tight as he started to drag you through the halls. You could feel the walls shake with each explosion as they got closer. You don't know much about this world, but you had to escape. You do not want anything to do with the so-called unbreakable Mate bond.

 While you don’t exactly mind the idea of fucking Steve Rogers you had to get back to your world. You doubted he’d ever let you leave. Another explosion rocked the base causing the agent to lose his grip on your arm. You acted fast. You bent down to grab both knives from your boots before lunging forward in one fluid motion stabbing the agent with both knives. The wall behind you exploded giving you a way out straight into a forest. 

 Shoving your knives back into your boots you ran. 

~~~~~

The Avengers

The fight was brutal as HYDRA agents fought in mass doing everything, they could delay the Avengers. After a while Iron man and Captain America made it to the Control Room. Iron Man focused on taking out the HYDRA agents as Captain America was trying to protect the main console. He was still rusty on most modern technology, but they seemed hell bent on trying to destroy this particular equipment. It didn't take long for the final agent to go down.

 "Guys, as soon as you're done clearing the place head towards our position. I'm going to go through their tech and hopefully I'll have some information by the time you're done."

 Steve watches as Tony steps out of the Iron Man suit and starts to work on the slightly mangled console. Steve managed to keep the damage to a minimum when the scientists tried to destroy it, but it still had sustained some damage. Steve kept watch as Tony worked with his shield at the ready. They had cleared most of the base but there could still be HYDRA Agents out there waiting to ambush them. 

 It took Tony a little while to properly hack into the HYDRA network as some of the more sensitive components were destroyed in the struggle. Tony gasps in shock as he reads some of the doctor’s notes and starts to frantically look for the digital recordings that the doctor referenced. He didn’t want to tell Steve what they were up to until he could verify if they managed it or not. IF they managed it, he needs to know what happened to her, to Subject M. 

 “What are we looking at Tony? What were they trying to accomplish?"

 “Steve. You need to look at this.” Tony tells Steve with a note of urgency in his voice. 

 "What is it Tony?“ Steve asked. He then proceeded to put his shield back onto his back harness.

 "Tony, what's going on?" Natasha asked as she walked into the room followed by Clint.

 “From the looks of things, they were trying to bring someone over from what looks like another dimension."

 "Another dimension?" Clint asked.

 "How is that even possible?" Natasha asked.

 "They were using a combination of The Foster Theory and for lack of a better term magic."

 "The use of dimensional energy similar to the Bifrost plus an added magic celestial event…" Thor started.

 "Such as a full moon on All Hallows Eve?" Clint asked.

 "I know not of this All Hallows Eve, but a full moon would suffice as a celestial event." 

 "So, it's possible?" Natasha asked.

 "Yes, it's possible." Thor informed the group.

 "Who were they-" Steve started before shaking his head and continued, "-did they manage it?" 

 "That's what I'm trying to figure out but… Fuck. Looks like they managed it. Fuck."

 "What is it Tony? Did they bring back the Red Skull, Hitler or something?"

 "No. Maybe it's better to watch the surveillance footage as I try to explain."

 "Explain what? Friend Tony." Thor asked as he landed softly in the large room.

 "Before I have you guys look at this surveillance footage Steve you need to know… "

 "Know what? Tony?" Steve asked.

 "Yeah, Tony. You are starting to scare us."

 "Keep in mind she came from another dimension…"

 "Tony cut to the chase, you're stalling." 

 "Steve, looks like they found your mate. Your perfect mate and brought her here from another dimension."

 "What?!?" Everyone exclaimed.

 Steve stood there in shocked silence as he took it in. His Mate. His. Mate. His Mate. He just couldn't believe it. His Mate, who is from another dimension. He had to find her. He needs her. She would complete him. She would be the missing piece. His missing piece. The one thing that is his and his alone. He needed her. He needed the bond. They had to bond. A werewolf without a Mate is a loose cannon, the Mate-bond will stabilize him in every way he needs.

 He couldn’t wait to have her in his arms. To bond. To cover her in his scent and be bathed in her scent. To be inside her, to fill her up. He was going to fuck her until she was covered in nothing but his scent and cum. He couldn’t wait to taste her and have his face covered in her juices. He bets she tastes delicious. He was going to fuck her so hard and so good that she’ll never think of leaving him.

 "Show us the surveillance footage Tony. If they managed to bring her here. Where is she?" Natasha asked. Tony nodded before starting the security footage.

 They all watched silently as the HYDRA soldier adjusted a machine and said some words before a portal opened. Tony made sure to take mental notes of this alternate universe that Steve's mate came from. They needed to know as much as they could especially if she wanted to go back. The HYDRA Agents did some fine tuning of the console causing the picture to change within the portal and a female came within view. 

 They all assumed that she must have been Steve's Mate. Steve's Mate walked into what looked like a Haunted House. The portal was adjusted again and they all silently watched as she walked through several exhibits. Tony found it fascinating as he spotted a few movie characters for their world as well. They all gasped in surprise as they spotted a man that looked exactly like Steve. Right before she was yanked through the portal into their world. 

 They noted her name as they watched the brief conversation between the head HYDRA goon and Miss Y/L/N. As the Goon explained the concept of Mate's they looked at Steve with concern as they realized his Mate had no idea. Werewolves and Mate's do not exist in her world. Which meant she could easily reject him. Once they saw the attack begin a new Agent grabbed Y/N and practically dragged her out of the room. They all looked towards Tony.

 "Is there any more security footage?" Natasha asked.

 "Yes, I tracked her through the halls with Agent 37." Tony replies bringing up the footage. 

 They watch silently as the explosion takes out a wall near them causing Agent 37 to lose Y/N's arm. They gasp in shock as Y/N suddenly reaches down to grab two knives hidden in her boots. Natasha is particularly impressed at the fluid motion Y/N uses as she quickly stabs the goon with both knives. Finally, the wall behind her explodes and she makes her escape before any of the Avengers could rescue her. Self-saving princess for the win.

 “How long ago was this footage?”

 “About 10 minutes.”

 "We need to find her." Clint exclaimed watching Steve. He could tell that Steve was on edge as he kept shifted backwards towards the table his Mate was laying on. 

 He was the only one close enough to hear the low possessive growl Steve released when he saw his Mate walking towards his doppelganger in the security footage. Clint also heard the barely audible whimper Steve released at Y/N confusion and distaste at the concept of Mate's. Now, Steve kept taking deep breaths, holding it before releasing them. If he’s not careful he’ll go into a rut. Once Steve saw Agent 37 grab Y/N’s hand Steve snarled in rage. 

 No one touches his Mate. No one.

 "Mine." Steve growled before bolting. 

 “Shit.”

 "So, who's going after him?" Tony asks the group.

 "Fuck you Stark. An Alpha Werewolf in a rut induced rage after his Mate. No thank you."

 "He can contact us when he's ready for pick up. It's best not to get in his way." Natasha says calmly. 

 "I feel bad for anyone that gets in their way."

 "I don't." Natasha says simply.

 Steve took off at a full sprint down the hall and out towards the crumbling wall his Mate left through using his enhanced senses to follow her. Steve could feel the beginnings of the shift as he lost a bit of his iron tight control, he couldn’t help it. His wolf was very possessive over his Mate. He needed her. He stopped briefly at the body that had his Mate’s scent, he wanted to make sure he was dead and not just incapacitated.

 Thankfully, he was dead. His Mate took care of him. She’s perfect. He needed to get to his Mate. She was his. He was going to kill anyone that tries to get in between them. She is perfect. No one could have her but him. He would make her accept him. She will mate with him. He will make her scream HIS name. He will drown her in pleasure. She will bear his young. She is going to be the most perfect mate. 

~~~~~

Y/N

You ran. You could hear the soldiers behind you, they probably found the Agent you killed. You were sure they were looking for you, they needed you. You stop briefly to catch your breath leaning up against a tree. You can see the moon through the tree line, making you feel weirdly aggressive. You needed to be smart. You can't outrun them forever. They will find you. You could hear them moving through the woods. They were loud, not even trying to be stealthy.

 "Now, now. Miss Y/L/N we know you are close by. You have a very distinctive life signature as you aren't a part of this universe. We can always find you." That just means you have nothing to lose you thought. 

 You heard one of the soldiers as he got closer to your position. You still. You grab one of your knives hiding it in the folds of your pants. As the soldier passes you hesitated, before this night you had never killed anyone before. But you are in a different dimension being hunted by HYDRA and probably the Avengers. With that thought you silently step behind one of the soldiers, walking behind him a few steps completely silent. 

 It was strange, normally you were loud as an elephant in the woods especially in the fall with all the dead leaves. You shake off the lingering thoughts before grabbing your target. One hand went over his mouth the other that had the knife went straight into his neck. He died quickly and silently before you gently put him down. Another strange thing, you were a hell of a lot stronger in this universe. Those HYDRA men especially in all that gear shouldn't be light but they were.

 You shrug off all lingering thoughts of your newfound strength and take out two other HYDRA goons. All in the same manner of sneaking up behind them to kill them silently. You could feel your arms covered in blood. You were getting ready to take out your next goon before you heard screams. You doubled back to the last goon you killed and picked up his screams. You should have done this sooner instead of stalking the men one by one.

 "Captain America is in the woods. I repeat Captain Amer-" You hear before the voice is suddenly cut off with a gurgle. Clearly Captain America found him.

 "Listen up men, the Captain is in play and is looking for his Mate…." 

 "Mine," he growled. 

 The Captain's voice is deep and full of rage that you could clearly hear through the transmission. He interrupted what was sure to be the Commander's rousing speech. It isn't long before you start to hear screams and gunfire echoing all around the woods. You had been killing the HYDRA goons silently as possible to not be detected, Captain America on the other hand was making quite the ruckus.

 It sounded like he was ripping them to shreds with all the noise they made. You look around frantically. There wasn't really any place that you could hide but you needed to find something. If he had heightened senses, he might not be able to find you with all the death and blood in the air. You considered covering yourself in more blood or maybe hiding under a corpse. There were a few of them around. You shuddered in horror. 

 The idea of hiding under a dead body freaked you out too much. Before you can find an adequate hiding spot the screaming suddenly stopped. It was quiet. Too quiet. Eerily quiet. He was coming. There's a very good chance he killed everyone and was coming for you. You started to frantically look around. You need to hide as soon as possible. You dive into some dense bushes burrowing yourself as deep as possible. 

 You suddenly started to hear rustling nearby causing you to freeze in fear while studying your surroundings. It was like he just suddenly just appeared out of the woods. He didn't make a sound. The moon gave you a clear picture of him, of Captain America. He was covered from his head to toes in blood and gore. He must have killed everyone, anyone that got in his way based on the amount of blood on his body.

 "Mate." Steve growled taking off his helmet, dropping it to the floor while he sniffed the air. He knew she was nearby. 

 It was hard due to the amount of blood and gore on his body, but he could smell his Mate faintly. He had lost complete control when he heard the HYDRA Commander threaten his Mate. He shifted partly allowing his claws and fangs to come out before methodically killing each and every HYDRA goon that got in his way. He knew he must have been a sight to her, but he could also smell the blood on her. 

 They both had fresh kills on them. She smelled amazing. It was strange, the fresh blood only made her more tempting. It would be hard not to completely lose control when he finally mates her. As it was, his control was hanging on by a thread. He knew she was nearby, hiding. He took in another deep breath before going still. He found her. 

 You could feel every beat of your heart as it goes faster and faster in fear and slight arousal. You weren't sure why but when you shifted you could feel how wet your panties were. For some reason there was a part of you that enjoyed being stalked and chased. Also, the idea of him killing everyone in his way in order to get to you as soon as possible had you unreasonably wet. Clearly there was something about this universe that had you reacting oddly. 

 "Gotcha." Steve breathed in your ear from behind you. You jumped screaming as he grabbed you. He pulled you out from your hiding spot.

 "Oh my God.” 

 “Mate“ Steve starts to run his blood-soaked face against yours.

 “What are you doing?" You ask weirded out. 

 "Scent marking." Steve states simply before grabbing your blood-soaked hands and rubbing them along his face. You cringe away as you notice his claws, you face showing your distaste.

 "What... What's going on?" You ask before grabbing his face to look him in the eyes noting the fangs. His eyes are blown in lust and need.

 "You are mine. My Mate." Steve simply states before grabbing your face.

 "I'm not your Mate. I'm not even from this world. Or dimension or whatever that HYDRA dick said."

 "You are mine." Is all he says as he rubs his head alongside yours, giving you a blast of his personal scent.

 "Please just let me go." You whimper trying not to breath in, his scent is wonderful. 

 "I can't." Steve simply states as he starts to rub his body against yours. 

 You can feel his erection straining against his tactical pants. You are trying to hold your breath which wasn't exactly easy to do when you wanted to hyperventilate. Every time you breathed in Steve's scent you could feel your head getting cloudy. Your body would start to produce more wetness and you needed to think. This caused you to let out an aggressive growl which Steve instantly answered back with a slight whine at the end.

 "No." 

 Something inside of you, some kind of switch clicked on as you suddenly went from passive to aggressive. You started to fight. Kicking, screaming and hitting every inch of him you can reach. While he tried to restrain you, his arms went around your middle restricting your arms movement. Your hands went down towards where your knives were hidden. Grabbing one knife you flip it in your hand and stab backwards, your range limited due to his hold on you.

 You manage to startle him enough to let you go but not injure him. You use the knife to keep him at bay slashing at him every time he attempted to get close. You see his eyes narrow before he hits your hand hard. This caused you to let go of the knife, it flew away from you both. You had one knife left. 

 You didn't hesitate. You ran.  

~~~~~

Steve and Y/N

You ran. You used up a lot of energy and you had some issues breathing especially when you breathed in Steve’s tantalizing scent. You could feel him running after you, you were amazed that he hadn't caught up with you already. Something about this world has made you more than what you were before. You felt energized, like you could run forever when before you would have died after a half a mile. But you weren't a super soldier.

 “What’s wrong sweetheart? Have I not earned you? Do you know how many people I killed to get to you? To protect you?” Steve asks. He was running right next to you clearly keeping pace with ease.

 "Ahhh!" You screamed coming to a complete stop.

 "Son of a bitch." You started to pant out of breath. God you hated running.

 "Language. Sweetheart."

 “Fuck you. You don’t know me."

 "I know enough, my love. My Mate." Steve tells you before bringing you close, giving you a blast of his personal scent. You try not to breathe in as deep as you wanted. 

 "I. Am. NOT. Your. Mate." You bite out. His scent was clouding your mind.

 "Stop. Saying. THAT." Steve growled. He was getting pissed off at your lack of compliance. You. Were. HIS! 

 Your eyes go wide at his tone. You could see him losing more of himself. His eyes flashed gold and his fangs grew larger. He was starting to lose control. You had to do something. You just didn't know what. Perhaps, it would be better just to humor him. You didn't want him to lose complete control and hurt you. Plus, you still had one knife left, you just had to get close enough if you were going to use it.

 "Sorry, Captain Rogers." You tell him. His demeanor changes instantly.

 "It’s Steve, sweetheart.” Steve practically purrs at you. 

 “Steve. You know I'm from another universe. I don't understand what it means to be someone's Mate.”

 “It's okay sweetheart. I will teach you. Let me show you what it means to be Mates." Steve tells you before gathering you into his arms. 

 He breathed in deeply taking in your scent, holding you gently as you fought not to jerk in his arms. You squirm a bit as he rubs his blood-soaked body up against yours. He seemed very intent on rubbing as much of his bloody body up against yours. His body was firm all over and oh so very hard. It was hard not to marvel at how good he felt against your body. You could feel the blood and gore getting transferred over to your body.

 It was gross. Steve could sense your disgust and resolved to distract you as he needed to get as much of his scent on you as possible. He started with gentle kisses that he rained down over your cheek, jaw, neck moving your hair out of the way as needed. You took in a deep breath as you tried not to moan causing you to take in the full effect of Steve's scent. It was like a drug the more you smelled him the more you wanted to smell him. 

 Fact was, you just wanted him. Period. You didn't stop Steve as he slowly unzipped the leather vest. His scent drugging you into compliance. Steve drops your vest to the ground as he gently bites your neck. You let out a moan so soft that Steve's enhanced hearing barely picked up on it. The sound of your moan caused him to smirk widely into your neck. He was getting to you. Your neck has always been a weakness for you. 

 Steve seemed to be focused on the right side of your neck giving that area lavishing kisses, licks and bites. With his scent in your nose it was hard not to gasp and moan. You did manage to notice that Steve kept going back to a specific area of your neck. It was strange. Steve noticed your attention and decided to distract you with a deep kiss. You gasped as you felt his tongue slide into your mouth. 

 First you pushed at Steve's unyielding body, but it had zero results. Steve refused to move an inch away from your body. Steve grabbed the back of your head keeping it in place as he plundered your mouth. Your hands originally came up to fight him but as he kissed you... Your hands came up and wrapped them around his neck instead. One of your hands grabbed onto his shoulder and the other went straight into his hair. 

 Steve pressed one of his thighs between yours bringing it up to rub against your core inflaming you more. The hand in his hair tightened as you suddenly yanked his head to the right. You momentarily lost complete control and bit his lip hard as you rubbed yourself wantonly against him. Steve let out a loud growl in response before moving his mouth from your lips to your neck. You loudly moaned as his huge hand slid underneath your shirt and under your bra. He gently fondled your breasts, teasing your nipples with the rough pads of his fingers. 

 "My beautiful Mate. I can't wait to taste you. Too feel you. To finally be inside you. You are all mine." The sound of his voice snaps you out of your lust induced trance. You stiffen up in panic, grabbing Steve's hands moving them out of your shirt. 

 "No, please. You need to let me go. I have to go back to my world." Steve growled loudly in displeasure before grabbing you roughly.

 "No. You are MINE. You know you want this. You want me. I am your Mate. We are meant to be together."

 You started to struggle. Steve growled at you in warning before gathering both of your hands into one of his. He then walked backwards until your back was pressed into a tree. Steve rocked his body into yours briefly grinding his pelvis against your hip. You could feel every inch of his rock-hard cock pressing against you. You bit your lip trying not to react. Steve then shifted bringing his thigh up and between your legs pressing right into your pussy hard. 

 "Steve!" You yelped. The friction hit you just right causing you to moan loudly. You were close. 

 Your eyes flashed gold briefly before closing tightly. Steve grinned. He knew what gold eyes could mean but it wasn't a sure thing. Yet. So he proceeded. He needed to make you cum. First will be on his thigh, then on his fingers, then his mouth and finally all over his cock. Then he will claim you. You will be his. He grabbed your rips rocking you onto his thigh. You squirmed when his other hand started to roam down your body. 

 His hand slipped into your pants causing him to growl low and deep as he felt how damp the lace crotch of your panties already was. His eyes flashed gold as his wolf started to battle for control. He needed to claim you soon. Steve rubbed your panties causing you to whimper. He made sure to get his fingers good and wet before taking his hand out of your pants. He brought his fingers up to show you how wet you were.

 “See how much you want me?” Steve asked gently as he let go of your hands cupping your face briefly. 

 He gave you a soft brief kiss before bringing his hand up. Steve put his fingers into his mouth sucking your juices off his fingers. He moaned loudly at your taste. He loved how you tasted just as he knew he would. He couldn't wait to drink your juices straight from the source. He gently grabbed your hips before starting to rock you back and forth on his thigh. You arch your back in pleasure as your back hit the tree hard. 

 You try to rub yourself against him looking for the right angle in order to reach your peak. You needed to cum. You needed it. So bad. Your hands grip Steve's shirt bringing him in closer, you no longer cared about the blood or gore. He wrapped his arms around you bringing you up to his lips giving you a deep probing kiss. Before shoving one of his hands into your hair pulling it just enough. 

 "Steve!" You scream cumming as all over Steve's thigh drenching his pants.

 You felt boneless and lax the orgasm taking the fight out of you. Steve on the other hand didn't waste any time. He took off your under-armor shirt tossing it on to the forest floor. He briefly admired your black lacy bra before his desires overtook him again. His mouth went down to lick the tops of your cleavage before sucking your nipples through the bra. It didn't take long for him to get fed up and literally rip the bra from your body tossing the pieces. 

 You moaned your head falling back into the tree as you felt his mouth and hand move simultaneously. Steve wrapped his lips around your nipple while sliding his hand back into your pants completely bypassing your underwear. Steve moaned against you, as you were so wet and so fucking tight. It was only one finger! He spread your legs a bit before sliding two fingers inside you. His fingers curled up hitting a spot that had you withering.

 "That's it sweetheart. Cum. Cum all over my fingers." Steve demanded as you whimpered. 

 Steve's thumb started to rub your clit while gliding his fingers in and out of your pussy. You screamed as you exploded in pleasure cumming HARD before going limp as your legs failed you. Steve managed to grab you before you fell to the floor. He picked you up gently before moving you to a soft pile of leaves. Steve grabbed the top of your pants before pulling hard. 

 RIIIIIPPPPP

 His super soldier strength made quick work of your pants shredding them. They were shredded in half from the top of your hips to your knees rendering them completely useless. Steve didn't bother to stop to admire your matching black lacy panties before ripping them off. Turning them to scraps. He needed to taste you. NOW. Steve frantically licked and sucked down your body wedging himself in between your legs. 

 “Want to taste you. Wanna taste what’s mine.” He whispered. 

 He lowered his mouth to your pussy and licked a stripe from the bottom of your pussy to your clit. Your body arched up against him in pleasure. Your hands went into Steve's hair as he growled low and deep in your pussy. He loved your taste. Steve moved both his hands to your inner thighs, spreading your pussy lips with his thumbs. He dives right in, licking and sucking at your wetness. 

 "You taste so good baby." Steve murmurs looking up at you. His face was covered in your pussy juice. He dived right back in groaning and growling at your taste. The wet squelching noises were obscene as he tongue fucked you deep. It felt amazing. You were almost there, your orgasm was so close you could practically taste it. 

 "Please…" 

~~~~~

Losing control

"Please, what? Sweetheart. Use your words."

 "Steve, please make me cum."

 "My sweet little Mate wanna cum? Cum all over my mouth sweetheart. Gush all over my face." 

 You shudder, Steve's dirty talk bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Steve held your hips in a vice grip and started lapping at your clit with his tongue. Your hands tightened in Steve's hair pushing his head down and rubbing his face all over your pussy lips when he started to suck your clit. You tensed up as waves and waves of pleasure hit you sending you over the edge. You gushed all over Steve's face covering it with your juices. 

 Steve kept licking and sucking you through your orgasm bringing you down from you high as you pussy started to get sensitive. Steve considered keeping it up and making you cum all over his face again but he needed to be inside you. He needed to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around his cock. You looked at Steve's face covered with your juices and his hair sticking up every which way from you gripping him and grinned. He looked wrecked.

 "Stevie." You shoved your hands back into Steve's hair before pulling. You forcefully brought him back up to face level by his hair. You playfully licked his nose before rubbing your face against his affectionately. 

 Steve grinned. It was clear orgasms were making you more affectionate. It was also bringing out your wolf tendencies as you were currently scent marking him. Steve grabbed your face with both hands before bringing you in for a long and messy kiss. You felt boneless as you kissed him back tasting yourself on him. Steve's right hand started gliding down your body feeling every inch of your curves. 

 As he reached your pussy Steve gently slid two fingers inside you. He started scissoring his fingers to help stretch you out. After a bit Steve pulled his fingers out of you shushing your whine of displeasure. He backed up a little bit going to his tac pants trying to get the stiff material to release him. Finally, he grabbed at the crotch of his tac pants and pulled. He ripped just enough for him to pull his cock free, he didn't bother to take anything else off. 

 "Shit. Wait, Steve. We can't." You tell him as you take a good look at his cock. It was huge and thick. And oh so hard.

 "Can. Must. Mate." Steve grunts out as he strokes his shaft a few times. His control was barely holding on, he didn't want to hurt you by accident. 

 You start to struggle. You didn't know what would happen if you and Steve had full penetration intercourse. For all you knew it could bind you to him forever. Who knew if you could ever be returned to your world? The separation might kill you both, you just didn't know enough. Steve grabbed both your wrists gently pinning them above your head. His other hand went to his cock slowly rubbing it against your soaking slit. 

 "Stop. Steve, you need to stop. We don't know what this will do." 

 "No. Mate. Need." Steve shook his head. He dipped his cock in slightly but never fully sheathed himself just making sure to get his cock good and wet with your juices.

 "Steve, please." You weren't really sure what you were asking for. For him to stop. For him to fuck you. You really didn't know. 

 "Please what, baby?" He wanted you to say it but either way it wasn't going fucking stop him. He needed you.

 "Please, Steve. Fuck me."

 Your thighs shook hard as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance and he began to push in. He sank into you slowly stretching your pussy as he fed you every inch of his cock. Steve brought his mouth down to your neck kissing and licking as much as he could. He never stopped or paused until his hips were finally flush against yours. You felt so full, completely stuffed to the brim.

 "So tight. God, sweetheart. You feel… god never felt…. You were made for me." Steve manages to get out. 

 "I'm going to make you feel so good, my Mate." 

 Steve started slowly at first, almost pulling out completely before gradually pushing back in. You had never felt so full as his cock kept hitting places deep inside you. It felt so amazing. You started to rock your hips back against him. Steve let go of your hands as you wrapped your legs tight around his waist. Steve started to pick up the pace. 

 "That's right my Mate, you are going to cum. You are going to cum all over my rock-hard cock. I'm going to keep fucking you. Then my good girl is going to come for me again… aren't you?"

 "Yes." 

 "Yes, what?"

 "Yes… Steeeevvee…" Within seconds of your answer, your body seized up in a rush of pleasure cumming all over his dick. 

 "I can. Do. This. All. Day." Steve tells you.  Each word being emphasized with a thrust. 

 "Fuck!" You scream cumming again.

 Steve continued to fuck you while you gasped, writhed and moaned, completely mindless beneath him. He continued on and on as you kept feeling that rush of pleasure again and again. You lost count of the amount of orgasms Steve gave you as you just keep cumming and cumming all over Steve's cock. You could feel your body getting ready to tighten around him again as he wrapped his body around yours. 

 "That's it, baby girl. I'm going to cum all inside you."

 "Ste…" You couldn't answer. You were too overwhelmed. You were somewhat aware that his thrusts were coming harder and faster.

 "Are you a good girl? You want me to fill you all up inside?" Steve asked. This caused you to whimper in response as your cunt clenched Steve's cock at the thought.

 "Do you want your Mate's cum all deep inside your well used cunt?" Steve knew he was getting close. He knew he needed to cement the Mating Bond between the two of you.

 "Yes."

 "Yes, what my Mate. Tell me. What do you want?"

 "I want your cum. Please cum inside me."

 "Cum inside you what?"

 "Please cum inside me, Steve. My... Mate." You get out between clenched lips.

 Admitting that you were his Mate caused Steve to lose complete control. He thrusted hard and deep causing you to cum instantly. He needed to cum inside you and make you his. He needed to fill you up with his cum. He needed you to smell of nothing but him. His was going to fill you to the brim over and over again until he impregnated you with his young. He couldn’t wait to see you swell up with his cub. You were his.

 Steve brought his mouth down to your neck as he cried out above you. Licking your Mating gland before biting down his fangs piercing your skin easily. Steve jerked into you hard cumming deep inside you. At the same time, your head instinctively met Steve's neck and bit down. You both felt a jolt of pleasure as the bond snapped into place. This caused you both to orgasm again simultaneously. 

 "Mine." Steve told you. You could feel him. He could feel you as well. 

 "Mine." You agreed. You could feel Steve's feelings and thoughts just as he could feel yours.

 You could feel his reluctance to leave your body and his desire. He could feel your blissed-out state and your confusion as you have no idea what to expect from a Mate bond. Steve reluctantly pulled out the sting of his thick cock leaving your body caused you to wince. You can feel the trickle of cum dripping out of your well used pussy. It was open wide from his thick cock and leaving wet stains on the crotch of what was left of yours and Steve's pants. 

 "Oh, my darling Mate." Steve started to get hard again watching his cum drip obscenely from your well used pussy. He gently pushed his cum back into your pussy causing you to moan. 

 Steve felt the moan go straight to his cock causing him to instantly harden. You could feel he didn't want to waste one precious drop of his cum. Your eyes flashed yellow as you felt the urge to mate again. You wrapped a leg around Steve before rolling your hip. This caused you to flip your positions with you on top. With a show of your newly acquired strength you shoved him down. It was your turn to be in control. 

 "Mine." You tell Steve. Eyes still yellow before raising your hips up.

 "Mate." Steve gasps as you sink onto his cock slowly. 

 Once your hips finally met Steve pelvis you started to ride him frantically. Your hands digging into Steve's chest as you raised your hips up and down. The pleasure consumed you completely. You never noticed your hands. Your hands were slowly started to change from fingers to claws and your mouth started to grow fangs. Steve didn't notice at first as he started to moan and growl underneath you. 

 Once your claws started to pierce his skin did he notice your claws and fangs. He grinned as he healed instantly. Steve took care to watch his own claws as he grabbed your hips. He then planted his feet and started to thrust upwards causing him to slide deeper inside your pussy hitting your cervix with each thrust. It didn't take long for you to cum. You came all over Steve's cock with a scream. 

 "Steve!" You scream that ended in a howl. A howl that Steve instantly answered before cumming deep inside you.

 "Your mine. Forever."

 "Forever." 

 "Happy Halloween baby. I'm never letting you go."

#jshauntedhouse2020 #j's haunted house 2020 #halloween challenge #chris evans #steve rogers fanfiction

[the-delta-42]

Broken

@gale-of-the-nomads you said I could and now you can’t stop me.

Broken

Kagami did not know what happened. She saw Lila and everything went black.

“Kagami, stop!”

Kagami kept hearing excerpts of what happened, Marinette was shouting. But Marinette never really shouted.

The distinctive sound of metal hitting metal rang through the air.

“Kagami, this isn’t how you are!”

“Kagami, please, listen to me!”

Kagami took in her surroundings, she was in an interrogation room, handcuffed to the table. It was only then she noticed the blood on her hands.

What did she do?

The door opened, Kagami expected her family’s lawyer to walk in, but a young woman, roughly ten years older than Kagami herself walked in and stood in front of her.

“Kagami Tsurugi?” Asked the Woman, Kagami was struck by how similar she looked to Marinette, with the difference of hair and eye colour. Where Marinette’s eyes alternated between blue and grey, the woman’s eyes were a warm green colour and while Marinette’s hair was black, this woman’s hair was a soft brown colour, like Marinette’s father’s hair.

Kagami nodded.

“Skye Dupain,” Said Skye, “I’ve been asked to handle this matter, which was easier than expected, since there was no one else.”

Kagami’s heart sank, her mind already connecting the dots.

“Do you know what you’re being charged with?” Asked Skye, looking at Kagami, who shook her head, “They’re holding you for ‘attempted murder’ of a girl your age, with one eyewitness supporting this claim.”

“M-Marinette told them that?” Whispered Kagami, making Skye look down at her.

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng is listed as the victim, Mlle. Rossi is the witness listed on the file.” Said Skye, glancing through the document, “I want you to tell me, in your own words, what happened?”

B

Kagami spotted Lila shoving Marinette against the locker, a bag of swords that D’Argencourt kept in the school falling from the top of the locker, before jamming a knee into her gut and throwing her on the floor. Marinette’s side hit a bench as she went down.

“You’re pathetic.” Sneered Lila, “You say you love Adrien, but you give him up for some other bitch.”

“That,” Gasped Marinette, slowly getting to her feet, “was Adrien’s choice.”

Lila sneered and kicked Marinette in the side, knocking her back to the floor, before stepping on Marinette’s right hand and pushing down on it until she heard a crack and a cry of pain from Marinette.

“You know you never had a chance with Adrien, don’t you?” Snarled Lila, punctuating each word with a kick, “he’d never be interested in a piece of filth like you.”

Marinette grabbed Lila’s foot mid swing and knocked the other one out from under the Italian. Lila let out a yelp as she fell, as Marinette slowly got to her feet.

“You know what?” Said Marinette, holding her side, trying to ignore the pain, “I can live with that. As long as Adrien is happy, I can be happy. Love isn’t something that requires both parties to feel the same way, because if you truly love someone, then seeing them happy is enough.”

Kagami felt touched by what Marinette had said, before Lila snarled and grabbed one of the swords from the bag and went to stab Marinette with it. Something in Kagami broke, growling as she charged forwards grabbing the sword from Lila’s hand and swing it at her.

Marinette stood frozen, watching as Kagami started to attack Lila, mentally arguing on if she should stop Kagami or remain out of the fight. The decision was made for her when Lila tripped and landed on her rear. In a flash of movement, Marinette had grabbed a sword from the bag and parried Kagami’s jab away from the liar.

“Kagami, listen to me,” Said Marinette, her breath shaky, “you need to calm down.”

Kagami roared and went to slash at Lila, Marinette making sure to keep the blade from connecting with Lila.

“Kagami, stop!” Cried Marinette, as she parried another jab aimed at Lila, the distinctive sound of metal hitting metal rang through the air, “Kagami, this isn’t how you are!”

“She needs to be punished!” Snarled Kagami, advancing towards Marinette.

“Kagami, please, listen to me!” Yelled Marinette, “This isn’t you! Please, you need to calm down!”

Kagami lunged forwards, with Marinette going to parry from Kagami’s previous position. The blade slid between Marinette’s ribs, the girl felt a pain in her chest, before she felt the sword poke out her back. The sword Marinette had been holding fell to the floor.

“Kagami…” Said Marinette, as she struggled to breath, coughing up some blood as she spoke. The sword was removed.

There was silence, before the sword clattered to the floor, joining its partner. Marinette felt her legs give way beneath her, while Lila smirked viciously, before letting out a scream. Kagami stood frozen, as she stared at the blood coating her hands.

B

Kagami stared at her hands in horror, “I killed her.”

“Marinette is still alive, she has a punctured lung and a cut artery, but nothing too fatal.” Said Skye, looking down at Kagami, as the Japanese girl started to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey, in through the nose, out through the mouth.” Soothed Skye, “Marinette’s fine, she’s going to make a full recovery.”

Kagami followed Skye’s instructions, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth.

“Until Marinette wakes up, you’re going to be kept here,” Said Skye, gently, “I’m sure once she’s awake, you’ll be able to go home.”

Kagami nodded, before Skye left and a police officer arrived to take Kagami back to the cell she’d been allocated.

B

Adrien stared down at Marinette’s unconscious form. He didn’t want to believe what Lila had said, that Kagami had attacked and tried to kill Marinette, but without anyone else to give an alternative take on what happened, he couldn’t do anything but believe what had been said. He’d tried to think of everything that he thought could explain it, other than Lila lying, Kagami being akumatized, Marinette getting stabbed by someone else and Kagami was the one who found her, anything that wasn’t that Kagami had lied to both of them and deliberately tried to kill Marinette.

But what if she did?

Adrien shook his head, trying to dispel the thought from his mind. He had already heard from his father that he was to break up with Kagami, he didn’t want her actions to tarnish the Gabriel brand. Everyone was treating Lila like a hero, except the select few of Nino, Alya and himself, the three of them more concerned with Marinette’s situation.

“The doctors said she had a couple of broken ribs and a broken hand.” Said Alya, quietly, “They think that Kagami, or whoever did this, was already attacking her before she was stabbed.”

Adrien saw Alya tightly holding her phone, her knuckles slowly going white, every time someone was akumatized, there was a side effect, Alya couldn’t be separated from her phone, Nino couldn’t hold or come in contact with bubbles and Juleka couldn’t look at her reflection.

Everyone who had been Akumatized was left with an invisible scar, Damocles would hoot and Bustier was say ‘kissu’ at random points while talking. Perhaps Kagami was left with a serious aggression.

But that didn’t explain how or why Marinette was stabbed. Marinette looked so small, the bed spanning around her, as if she were an island in the middle of a sea of white and blue. Marinette suddenly started jerking, as if someone had grabbed her by the throat.

Within moments, a doctor, nurse and a couple of orderlies rushed into the room.

“Right, she’s choking.” Said the Doctor, as one of the orderlies guided the group out of the room. The door closed before any of them could hear what the Doctor said next a few minutes later the Doctor stalked out of the room and headed to a desk.

Before Adrien knew it, he was in the corridor, with Gorilla watching from the end of the hall.

Adrien was just leaving class when he heard the scream. In the back of his mind, he was able to identify the voice belonging to Lila, but still, he ran to the source, skidding to a stop when he reached the locker room. Lila was plastering herself against the wall, while Marinette lied in a steadily growing pool of her own blood.

With Kagami standing over her. With Marinette’s blood on her hands. Adrien froze, absently aware of Kim rushing past him and tackling Kagami to the floor. Alya started calling for an ambulance, while Ms. Bustier and Ms. Mendeleiev started applying what first aid training they knew, being careful to stem the bleeding as best they could.

“I really don’t know what good this is going to do.” Said Mendeleiev, checking Marinette’s pulse, “Since she’s discharging blood from her mouth, we know she has internal bleeding.”

“Demeter,” Said Bustier, looking sick, “Can you, kissu, please not say that.”

Mendeleiev looked around, noticing the pale faces of the students.

“All of you, go to the library.” Barked the Teacher, making most of the students’ scatter.

“Alya, could you please take Lila to the staff room?” Asked Bustier, as an ambulance pulled up outside the school.

Adrien had been guided away by Nino, when Alya took Lila to the staffroom. There was a commotion by the lifts, Adrien looked up and saw a young woman, roughly Ms. Bustier’s age, stalking towards them. Adrien was struck by how much she looked like Marinette, with the exception of her hair and eyes, being light brown and green respectively.

“I’m looking for the Dupain-Chengs.” Said the woman, in place of introductions or greetings.

“They’ve gone to close their bakery up.” Said Alya, after a moments silence.

The woman growled, before fishing her phone out of her pocket. Adrien frowned, quickly noting that it was an older style of mobile, early 2000’s, and not one of the latest models like most people went for.

“Mike, where are you?” Demanded the woman, Adrien had the sinking feeling that both the woman and ‘Mike’ were Mrs. Tsurugi’s lawyers, “Okay, if you’re there, then they can’t be home yet.”

The woman stiffened, before her attitude changed entirely, “Ah, hi… Okay, I’ll wait for you to arrive at the hospital… No, I don’t think anyone’s been able to raise Toby, we’d need a fucking Ouija Board.”

The woman nodded and confirmed a few things, before hanging up. She then turned to Alya.

“I take it you’re Alya?” Asked the Woman, looking at the Creole girl.

“I am.” Said Alya, drawing the same conclusions as Adrien.

The woman took them all by surprise by smiling widely and grabbing Alya’s hands, “Mari’s told me so much about you, I’m Skye, Marinette’s sister.”

“I… didn’t know Marinette had a sister.” Said Alya, after a moment.

Skye was still for a moment, before slowly turning to Nino.

“I didn’t recognise you.” Said Nino, quickly throwing his hands up.

Skye only narrowed her eyes, before her gaze settled on Adrien, “And you must be the pretty boyfriend of the girl who stabbed my sister.”

Skye’s tone wasn’t accusatory, merely factual.

“Soon to be ex.” Said Adrien, keeping his tone level.

Skye wrinkled her nose, before she started to circle Adrien, frowning as she went. Skye stopped and glared at Adrien.

“If what I’m told is true,” Said Skye, her tone cold, “being akumatized affects everyone differently, each victim having an invisible scar that they have to live with every day. Ms. Tsurugi was not in control of her actions and, while Marinette is still unconscious, we only have the testimony of a teenage girl who claimed to witness the entire thing but didn’t alert anyone until after someone had been stabbed and remained calm as she recounted every detail.”

Adrien could’ve sworn that the room temperature dropped.

“And that isn’t taking into account her… ‘exceptional’ lifestyle that is faker that Kim Kardashian’s ‘assets.’” Skye’s glare pinned Adrien in place, “But, seeing as you’re more of a wet blanket-”

“That’s enough, Skye.” Said a gruff, yet at the same time soft, voice, making everyone look towards the entrance.

“Michael, you got here faster than I expected.” Said Skye, leaning back on her heels, “I was just talking to Mari’s friends.”

Michael looked like an older, male, taller version of Marinette, except his eyes were a mixture of blue and grey. Michael had three pale scars that ran from the middle of his cheek to his jaw.

“Skye, you’re not in court,” Sighed Michael, before looking into Marinette’s room, “I take it she hasn’t woken up?”

“No, but she started choking on something just before I got here.” Said Skye, folding her arms.

“Well, I’m sure she’s going to be fine.” Said Michael, turning to look at Marinette’s friends. His gaze slowly went over the three, before settling on Adrien, “Relax, you look like you’ve got a foil shoved up your butt.”

Adrien let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“You’re Emilie’s son, aren’t you?” Asked Michael, making Adrien stiffen.

“Wait, Emilie?” Asked Skye, whipping around to look at Michael, “You mean that actress you loved? The one you met while on work experience. The one you fainted in front of when she introduced herself to you?”

Michael slowly turned and glared at Skye, “That was one time.”

“Yeah, but you were bitching about how your life was over because your idol saw you act weird.” Snickered Skye, as Michael slowly grew redder.

“Well, at least I didn’t moan when I met Dark Owl.” Snarled Michael, making Skye freeze.

“Take that back!” Demanded Skye, as she went red as well.

“Make me!” retorted Michael, before a hand grabbed his ear, while the person’s other grabbed Skye’s ear.

Both suddenly paled, and silently sent a prayer to a powerful and merciless god, before they were tugged down to their mother’s level.

“Stop it, both of you.” Growled Sabine, before butting their heads together.

Michael and Skye recoiled and grabbed the point of impact on their heads. The two glared at each other, before they turned and look at their parents.

“Sorry, mum.” They said in unison.

“Anyway, why does it matter who his mother is?” Asked Skye, gesturing to Adrien.

“Because his father is a controlling, abusive dick.” Said Michael, as he stopped rubbing his head, “In the month I worked with her, he stormed on set six or seven times and had to escorted off by security.”

Adrien was silent as he processed the information, he’d never heard about this side of his father. It did fit some of his father’s attitudes and actions.

“He… He did tell me to break up with Kagami after the news broke.” Said Adrien, quietly.

Michael had a smug look on his face, until Skye punched his arm. Skye then turned to Adrien and spoke to him, “Do you have any other family members that can take care of you? An aunt or set of grandparents, perhaps?”

“T-there’s my Aunt Amelie.” Said Adrien, making Skye nod and walked away, pulling her phone from her pocket as she did so.

“What’s she doing?” Asked Adrien, frantically looking around.

“Most likely contacting Child Services,” Said Michael, looking down at the panicking blond, “Since you literally just told us that your father has near total control over your life.”

Adrien looked around the room again, his breathing starting to come out in rapid puffs. He vaguely heard Michael swear as the world went dark.

B

Amelie Graham-De-Vanily quietly swirled her tea around in her cup. One of the two rings laid on the table. Felix had decided to go to bed early, since he’d pulled an all-nighter the previous night. She jumped when the phone suddenly rang. She spotted the number was from France and scowled, no doubt Gabriel noticed the ring was missing.

“Hello, Amelie Graham-De-Vanily speaking, can I help you?” Asked Amelie, already knowing Gabriel was going to be as hostile as possible.

“Mrs. Graham-De-Vanily? My name’s Skye Dupain,” Said a young woman’s voice, a French accent tinting her English, “I’m calling to inform you about the current legal situation with Gabriel Agreste and that you’re currently Adrien’s only known living relative.”

Amelie paused, before frowning, “What has my idiot of a Brother-In-Law done now?”

“Currently we’re investigating him on suspicion of neglecting and coercively controlling his son.” Said Skye, making Amelie stiffen.

‘Well, that explains why Adrien wasn’t able to attend my husband’s funeral.’ Thought Amelie, as Skye let her take it all in.

“Do you have any residences in Paris that you and your son can stay at while the investigation is on-going?” Asked Skye, “We’re going to need Adrien to remain in Paris, as this concerns him, and we will need his testimony in the case.”

“I believe I have a house somewhere in Paris,” Said Amelie, oblivious to Felix picking up another phone and listening in, “I’ll have to check, but are you sure Gabriel is abusing Adrien? I know he’s been distant since Emelie died, but actively neglecting and controlling Adrien’s life?”

“I’m not at liberty to say at the moment,” Said Skye, “But, we have gone over the case and spoken to a few employees. One has given cause for concern, but that is another case that’s also ongoing.”

“Right,” Said Amelie, sighing, “I’ll let Felix know and be there as soon as possible.”

“Right, thank you for your time.” Said Skye, before hanging up.

Amelie kept the phone to her ear, before saying, “Felix, you’re supposed to be asleep.”

There was a loud groan, before the phone was hung up and Felix stomped his was down the stairs.

“What’s this about Adrien being abused?” Demanded Felix, making Amelie sigh again.

B

Skye put her phone back in her pocket, before looking down at the case file in front of her. It was thick with sheets of paper filled with testimonies, bank statements and other pieces of legal evidence. Skye looked over at the other files, one filled with unfair dismissal cases, another filled with evidence of illegal substances and purchases, a third filled with Gabriel’s concerning relationship with Gabriel Agreste, the fourth filled with Emelie Agreste’s ‘disappearance’ and the subsequent unsolved investigation and the final one filled with the case that concerned Ms. Tsurugi and Marinette. Skye had said to her boss that she shouldn’t handle a case that involved her sister, but their firm was a total of five people, two of which were on holiday and another was off sick after taking a dip in the Seine.

There was a knock on the door, before a Japanese man strode into the office.

“I assume you’re the one handling Ms. Kagami’s case?” Asked the man, holding a thin folder.

“I am.” Said Skye, leaning back in her chair.

“These are the disinheritance forms signed by one Tomoe Tsurugi in regard to one Kagami Tsurugi.” Said the man, dropping the file on Skye’s desk, “I tried to talk her out of it, but that only resulted in Tsurugi dismissing me from her service.”

The man left without another word, before Skye groaned and slumped forwards.

B

Kagami sat in the corner of her cell, waiting for her mother to turn up. Part of her wanted her mother to tell her everything would be okay, but it’d been a week since she’d been brought here, and her mother had yet to show up.

There was a knock on her cell door, before it was unlocked and allowed Skye to walk in.

“Kagami,” Said Skye, hesitantly broaching the subject, “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Kagami stared up at Skye, trying to read her body language.

“I’m afraid your mother has chosen to disown you,” Said Skye, slowly, “her former solicitor approached me last night with the paperwork.”

Kagami didn’t react, she just stared at Skye, as the young woman waited for a response.

“This makes your case incredibly complicated, as we will need to find a family for you for when all this draws to a close.” Said Skye, running her hand through her hair, “But, don’t worry. I promise we’ll have something sorted out before everything’s over.”

Skye was quickly ushered out of the cell, leaving Kagami alone. Kagami sat still for a few moments, before pulling her knees to her chest and started crying.

B

Alya watched Marinette’s chest rise a fall; she no longer needed a ventilator to help her breath, of course, Marinette had to learn to breath on her own again; so, they made sure they had someone in the room with her. The nurse was reading a magazine in the corner, keeping one eye on Marinette.

“Kitty Section got a new gig this week,” Said Alya, quietly talking to Marinette, “Nino’s got one tomorrow, he hopes he’ll get his big break and fix all the problems in the world.”

Marinette said nothing, as usual.

“Lila’s been unbearable since this all started.” Said Alya, wincing at the thought, “Your, er, sister inspired me to do some research. You were right, Lila has been lying.”

Alya reached out and grasped Marinette’s hand, rested her head on the bed.

“Adrien’s been living with his aunt and cousin,” Said Alya, her eyes closing, “apparently his Dad was controlling him, which actually lost him custody and since there are rumours that he’s unfairly dismissed people and had an inappropriate relationship with people who’ve been underage, I think it’s fair to say that he’s no longer someone anyone want to be associated with.”

Marinette’s hand suddenly tightened and relaxed, making Alya bolt upright.

“M-Mari?” Gasped Alya, getting the nurses attention.

“What’s wrong?” Asked the nurse, approaching Alya.

“M-Marinette just squeezed my hand.” Stammered Alya, before the nurse turfed her out of the room.

B

Lila entered the classroom, expecting everyone to crowd around her and take everything she said as gospel, but instead she found them all laughing and hugging over something.

“Lila!” Cried Rose, spotting the Italian, “Have you heard the news?”

“What news?” Asked Lila, already thinking up a way to make it about her.

“Marinette’s woken up!” Cried Rose, happily embracing Lila.

Lila’s mind screeched to a halt, if Marinette had woken up, then she’d tell everyone what actually happened and everything Lila had would vanish.

“T-that’s great.” Said Lila, quickly glancing around, “Are we allowed to see her?”

“The police were speaking to her when Alya left,” Said Alix, frowning at Lila, “Alya was in the toilet when she woke up. Marinette’s mum was with her when she woke.”

Lila swallowed her nervousness, quickly thinking on how she could turn this to keep the consequences away from her.

“How can they be sure Marinette remember what happened exactly?” Asked Lila, getting a few frowns.

“Well,” Said Max, pushing his glasses up, “they’ll ask Marinette what happened and depending on if her story matches to what either you or Kagami said, then they’ll carry on from there.”

Lila gnawed on her lower lip, before the conversation moved on. If she went home, perhaps she’d be able to convince her mother to move to another country. Things had started to get stale anyway.

Half-way through the lesson, a woman and a couple police officers knocked on the classroom door.

“Please forgive the intrusion, Mdme. Bustier,” Said the woman, quickly flashing her badge at the teacher, “but we need to speak with Mlle. Rossi, regarding the currently ongoing cases, regarding her employment at Gabriel and the attack on Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Mdme. Bustier nodded, before turning back to the class. Lila wasn’t out of the room, before she screamed, “Marinette and Kagami planned everything to discredit me!”

The detective and police officers all stopped, all eyes were on Lila, as the Italian finally realised what she just said.

“We haven’t even asked you anything,” Said the detective, slowly, “and that’s the first thing you choose to say?”

Lila nervously looked around, before she was guided out of the classroom. She was guided to the Principle’s office, where she found her mother waiting for her.

“Mama!” Gasped Lila, her eyes darting around, “What are you doing here?”

“I heard the Police wanted to speak to my daughter and I decided to be with you as emotional support.” Said Mdme. Rossi, as Lila slowly paled.

“Mlle. Rossi,” Said the Detective, sitting in a chair opposite Lila and her mother, “I was hoping you could walk me through everything that happened when Mlle. Dupain-Cheng was stabbed.”

“Oh, it was horrible!” Cried Lila, burying her face in her hands, to hide her lack of tears, “Kagami was out of control, she kept hacking at Marinette! I could only scream when she finally stabbed her!”

The detective was silent, before she leaned forwards, “And when did Mlle. Tsurugi break Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s ribs?”

“Just before she stabbed her.” Gasped Lila, pushing her hands in her face.

“And her hand?” Questioned the detective.

“Before she broke her ribs.” Said Lila, feigning a sniffle.

“That’s odd.” Said the Detective, locking her fingers together, “Because, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s ribs are broken at the back and on the opposite side to her hand. So, unless Mlle. Tsurugi rolled her over and then stomped on her hand, then the footage we’ve got is wrong.”

Lila’s world broke.

B

Marinette shifted slightly, she’d been discharged from hospital and was about to go into the witness box.

“The people call Marinette Dupain-Cheng to the stand.” Said One of Skye’s business partners, Malcolm.

Getting sworn in was reasonably quick and Malcolm started asking questions.

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng,” Started Malcolm, “Could you tell us what happened the day you were stabbed?”

Marinette took a deep breath.

B

Lila shoved Marinette against the locker, she was vaguely aware of a bag with something metal in it falling to the ground, before Lila jammed her knee into her gut and threw her on the floor. Marinette’s side hit a bench as she went down.

“You’re pathetic.” Sneered Lila, “You say you love Adrien, but you give him up for some other bitch.”

“That,” Gasped Marinette, slowly getting to her feet, “was Adrien’s choice.”

Lila sneered and kicked Marinette in the side, knocking her back to the floor, before she stepped on Marinette’s right hand and pushed down on it until she heard a crack and a cry of pain from Marinette. Marinette was fairly sure it was broken.

“You know you never had a chance with Adrien, don’t you?” Snarled Lila, punctuating each word with a kick, “he’d never be interested in a piece of filth like you.”

Marinette grabbed Lila’s foot mid swing and knocked the other one out from under the Italian. Lila let out a yelp as she fell, as Marinette slowly got to her feet.

“You know what?” Said Marinette, holding her side, trying to ignore the pain of a broken rib, “I can live with that. As long as Adrien is happy, I can be happy. Love isn’t something that requires both parties to feel the same way, because if you truly love someone, then seeing them happy is enough.”

Lila snarled and grabbed something from the bag, a sword, and went to stab Marinette with it. Marinette heard someone growling before Kagami charged forwards grabbed the sword from Lila’s hand and swing it at the Italian.

Marinette stood frozen, watching as Kagami started to attack Lila, mentally arguing on if she should stop Kagami or remain out of the fight. The decision was made for her when Lila tripped and landed on her rear. In a flash of movement, Marinette had grabbed a sword from the bag and parried Kagami’s jab away from the liar.

“Kagami, listen to me,” Said Marinette, her breath shaky, “you need to calm down.”

Kagami roared and went to slash at Lila, Marinette making sure to keep the blade from connecting with Lila.

“Kagami, stop!” Cried Marinette, as she parried another jab aimed at Lila, the distinctive sound of metal hitting metal rang through the air, “Kagami, this isn’t how you are!”

“She needs to be punished!” Snarled Kagami, advancing towards Marinette.

“Kagami, please, listen to me!” Yelled Marinette, “This isn’t you! Please, you need to calm down!”

Kagami lunged forwards, with Marinette going to parry from Kagami’s previous position. The blade slid between Marinette’s ribs, the girl felt a pain in her chest, before she felt the sword poke out her back. The sword Marinette had been holding fell to the floor.

“Kagami…” Said Marinette, as she struggled to breath, coughing up some blood as she spoke. The sword was removed. Everything then went dark, before she opened her eyes again to a brightly coloured room.

B

“After I woke up,” Said Marinette, trying to stay calm, “the Police asked me what happened I told them what I just told you.”

“Just to clarify,” Said Malcolm, smirking at Lila’s lawyer, “Mlle. Tsurugi didn’t attack you, but entered a blind rage when she saw you in danger and, excluding the already existing injuries, you were only injured because you got between her and Mlle. Rossi?”

“Yes.” Said Marinette, clearly.

“No further questions.” Said Malcolm, as Lila’s Lawyer stood up.

“Mlle. Dupain,” Said the Lawyer, an old, balding, fat man who looked at Marinette as if she was a piece of dirt.

“Dupain-Cheng.” Corrected Marinette, her tone flat.

“Dupain-Cheng,” Said the Lawyer, “is it true that you do not like my client?”

“I don’t dislike Lila,” Said Marinette, carefully adjusting herself so she didn’t aggravate the stab wound, “I dislike the lies she is telling people, as it plays with their emotions and their dreams for their future.”

“But you have no proof she’s lying.” Said the Lawyer, smugly.

“On her first day, I saw her steal a book that belonged to Adrien’s father from Adrien’s school bag and then dispose of it in a trash can in the park.” Said Marinette, her tone flat, “I then followed her and saw her lies exposed by Ladybug.”

Lila’s lawyer paled slightly, before clearing his throat, “Hearsay, you have no proof that she lied about anything.”

“I didn’t need to,” Said Marinette, flatly, “The lies she started telling when she returned from hiding in her room, were poorly made and only required a quick google search to disprove.”

Lila’s Lawyer paled further, before looking at the judge.

“No further questions.” He muttered, before Marinette was dismissed from the box.

B

Kagami’s leg bounced, her host parent glanced over and her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Said Claire, gently rubbing Kagami’s shoulder.

Kagami nervously swallowed, while Maria took hold of Kagami’s hand.

“You just need to go up, tell them what happened and answer their questions.” Soothed Claire, while Maria looked at Lila and her lawyer.

The process of Kagami being called to the stand and sworn in came too quickly for the girl’s liking, Malcolm had gone over the basics with her the day before.

“Mlle. Tsurugi,” Said Malcolm, approaching the stand, “I only need you to answer yes or no to my questions. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Said Kagami, as Lila’s Lawyer smirked.

“On the 17th of September, you entered College François Dupont’s locker room to get changed for a fencing lesson, is that correct?”

“Yes.” Said Kagami, getting a nod from Malcolm.

“You said, in your statement to my colleague,” Said Malcolm, picking up a folder in his desk, “you saw Mlle. Rossi grab a sword from a bag and try to stab Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, is that correct?”

“Yes, it is.” Said Kagami, as Lila started to whisper in her Lawyer’s ear.

“After that, you described the following series of events that led up to the stabbing incident, as if you were not in control of your own body. Is that correct?” Asked Malcolm, putting the folder down.

“Yes.” Said Kagami.

“No further questions.” Said Malcolm, returning to his seat.

“Mlle. Tsurugi,” Said Lila’s Lawyer, looking at the Japanese girl, “Is it true you believe on acting first, despite not having the full picture?”

“Yes.” Said Kagami, looking at the lawyer.

“So, if you found that your boyfriend viewed a girl, who wasn’t you, and one that he clearly held feelings for,” Continued the Lawyer, “you wouldn’t wait for further clarification and you’d immediately go on the attack.”

“No.” Said Kagami, shaking her head.

“Just like how you didn’t wait before attacking Mlle. Rossi and, subsequently, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.” Accused the Lawyer, “You saw the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, didn’t you, Mlle. Tsurugi?”

“No.” Said Kagami, shaking her head harder.

“Or perhaps Mlle. Dupain-Cheng was simply collateral damage.” Said the Lawyer, before Malcolm stood up.

“Objection, Your Honour. M. Strand is forming baseless accusations.” Said Malcolm, leaning forwards, his hands resting on the desktop.

“Sustained,” Said the Judge, before turning her gaze on Strand, “Monsieur Strand, I do hope you have actual evidence to back up these allegations.”

Strand grinned, “My client’s account of the situation will confirm the allegations.”

The Judge glared at him, “The testimony of one sixteen-year-old girl, who has been denounce as a liar by three different witnesses and has herself claimed to have blacked out and only woke up to see Mlle. Dupain-Cheng already wounded.”

Strand’s grin slowly fell from his face, and looked over a Lila, who had paled significantly.

“Permission to call a recess.” Said Strand, sweat forming on his forehead.

“Granted, we’ll reconvene in thirty minutes.” Said the Judge, slamming her gavel onto the desk.

B

“Strand’s got nothing to stand on.” Said Malcolm, as Skye handed coffees around, “Compared to who we’ve got, the case is ours.”

“So, he’s stranded.” Said Adrien, looking up at the legal expert.

“Not how I would’ve put it, but yeah, he is.” Said Malcolm, Lila had accused Adrien of harassing her, both at school and at photoshoots. Those claims were quickly refuted by Adrien’s classmates, the photographer Vincent and scars that adorned Adrien’s arms in the shape of Lila’s fingernails.

Adrien had another court date, in regard to Gabriel’s neglect and emotion and verbal abuse towards Adrien. A bell rang, signalling the people to head back into the court room. Malcolm walked up to his desk, with Skye sliding in next to him, as Strand stood up, his eyes glued onto his desk.

“Against the advice of her counsel, Mlle. Rossi wishes to take the stand.” Trembled Strand panic clear in his eyes.

“Mlle. Rossi,” Said the Judge, leaning forwards, “If you take the stand, you will be open for cross examination.”

Lila gave the Judge a sickly, sweet smile, before she nodded, “I understand your honour.”

“Mlle. Rossi, could you please recount the event of Friday, September 17th?” Asked Strand, a smirk on his face.

“I was arguing with Marinette in the locker room, she was just about to leave when Kagami burst in and tried to kill me,” Said Lila, tears starting to form in her eyes, “Marinette got caught between us and was stabbed, there was so much blood.”

“You said you and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng were arguing.” Said Strand, as Lila faked a wince.

“Someone had vandalised one of her sketchbooks,” Said Lila, “she thought I’d done it because I was the last one to leave the room it was in.”

“I have no further questions, your honour.” Said Strand, smirking at Malcolm.

“Mlle. Rossi,” Started Malcolm, approaching the girl, “you said you and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng were ‘arguing’, at any point, did the disagreement turn physical?”

“No, we were only using words.” Responded Lila, unknowingly walking into a trap.

“Then, how, may I ask, did Mlle. Dupain-Cheng suffer; a broken arm, a broken hand, two broken ribs and three fractured ribs, a skull fracture and a shattered ankle? Your Honour, I’d like to introduce items 14-JT, 15-JT, 16-JT, 17-JT, 18-JT and 19-JT into evidence.”

“She, she must’ve gotten them when Kagami attacked.” Said Lila, a small amount of panic appearing in her voice.

“Mlle. Rossi,” Said Malcolm, “you just said Mlle. Dupain-Cheng was caught in the crossfire, when all of these could be considered defence wounds.”

“M-Marinette did put up a fight.” Said Lila, trying to cover her story.

“Mlle. Rossi, you are aware that there is video evidence that contradicts your version of events?” Asked Malcolm, before turning to the Judge, “Your Honour, if you will permit it, I’d like to add item 16-JS-B into evidence, it is footage from the security camera the school locker room, it has also recorded audio.”

“Sustained.” Said the Judge, as a TV was wheeled into the courtroom.

The TV screen flickered into life and started playing the recording.

Lila shoved Marinette against the locker, a bag fell from the top of the locker, before jamming a knee into her gut and throwing her on the floor. Marinette’s side hit a bench as she went down.

“You’re pathetic.” Sneered Lila, “You say you love Adrien, but you give him up for some other bitch.”

“That,” Gasped Marinette, slowly getting to her feet, “was Adrien’s choice.”

Lila sneered and kicked Marinette in the side, knocking her back to the floor, before stepping on Marinette’s right hand and pushing down on it until she heard a crack and a cry of pain from Marinette.

“You know you never had a chance with Adrien, don’t you?” Snarled Lila, punctuating each word with a kick, “he’d never be interested in a piece of filth like you.”

Marinette grabbed Lila’s foot mid swing and knocked the other one out from under the Italian. Lila let out a yelp as she fell, as Marinette slowly got to her feet.

“You know what?” Said Marinette, holding her side, trying to ignore the pain, “I can live with that. As long as Adrien is happy, I can be happy. Love isn’t something that requires both parties to feel the same way, because if you truly love someone, then seeing them happy is enough.”

Lila snarled and grabbed one of the swords from the bag and went to stab Marinette with it. Kagami charged forwards grabbing the sword from Lila’s hand and swing it at her.

Marinette stood frozen, watching as Kagami started to attack Lila, mentally arguing on if she should stop Kagami or remain out of the fight. The decision was made for her when Lila tripped and landed on her rear. In a flash of movement, Marinette had grabbed a sword from the bag and parried Kagami’s jab away from the liar.

“Kagami, listen to me,” Said Marinette, her breath shaky, “you need to calm down.”

Kagami roared and went to slash at Lila, Marinette making sure to keep the blade from connecting with Lila.

“Kagami, stop!” Cried Marinette, as she parried another jab aimed at Lila, the distinctive sound of metal hitting metal rang through the air, “Kagami, this isn’t how you are!”

“She needs to be punished!” Snarled Kagami, advancing towards Marinette.

“Kagami, please, listen to me!” Yelled Marinette, “This isn’t you! Please, you need to calm down!”

Kagami lunged forwards, with Marinette going to parry from Kagami’s previous position. The blade slid between Marinette’s ribs, the girl felt a pain in her chest, before she felt the sword poke out her back. The sword Marinette had been holding fell to the floor.

“Kagami…” Said Marinette, as she struggled to breath, coughing up some blood as she spoke. The sword was removed.

There was silence, before the sword clattered to the floor, joining its partner. Marinette felt her legs give way beneath her, while Lila smirked viciously, before letting out a scream. Kagami stood frozen, as she stared at the blood coating her hands.

“As you can see, Your Honour,” Said Malcolm, “Mlle. Rossi has been lying on the stand in regards to the entire situation and sequence of events.”

“I now understand your reasoning for add additional charges against Mlle. Rossi.” Said the Judge, looking down at Malcolm, “Attempted Murder in the second degree and truancy. I believe that the Jury has seen enough to make a verdict.”

B

The Jury deliberated for an hour, before returning to the court room.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” Asked the Judge, looking at the jury members.

“We have, sir.” Said the foreman, shuffling his feet.

“How does the jury find on the first count on the indictment, attempted murder in the second degree?” Asked the Judge, leaning back in his chair.

“Guilty, Your Honour.” Said the Foreman, looking down at the paper.

“How does the jury find on the second count on the indictment, truancy?”

“Guilty, Your Honour.”

“Mlle. Rossi, even without these charges, you would’ve been sentenced for your continued perjury in this court room,” Said the Judge, “you are hereby sentenced to 30 years in prison, you will start serving the sentence at a juvenile detention centre and, one you are of age, will be transferred to an appropriate prison to serve out the rest.”

The Judge banged his gavel on the desk, before dismissing the court.

B

Kagami looked around her new room, Maria and Claire had decided to adopt Kagami, after Tomoe had refused to allow Kagami back into the home to collect her belonging, instead having all of them burnt to a crisp.

Kagami took a deep breath, finally realising this was her first day of being a normal girl. There was a groan and a wheeze, as Marinette struggled to lift a box up.

“You’re going to tear your stitches!” Said Kagami, striding over and taking the box.

“The doctor said he might invest in getting me a cone.” Said Marinette, slumped against the door, “I can now write properly with my left hand.”

“Considering that your right one is fucked,” Said Kagami, carefully helping Marinette up, “I’m sure the compensation that Madam Rossi had to give you will help in finding someone who can get it back up to fighting strength.”

“I’ve actually got a physiotherapy session tomorrow.” Said Marinette, dropping herself onto Kagami’s bed, “Adrien’s helping with the animal’s downstairs.”

“Are you sure it’s not Felix?” Asked Kagami, dropping down next to Marinette.

“Nah, Felix hates cats,” Said Marinette, looking at the ceiling, “and I think he’s afraid of me.”

“I’m not surprised.” Responded Kagami, looking at Marinette.

Adrien joined the two girls half-an-hour later, dropping himself onto the bed and curling around them.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #kagami tsurugi #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #lila rossi #tom dupain #sabine cheng #caline bustier #michael dupain cheng #skye dupain cheng #delta writes #angst #tw: violence #hurt marinette #i just bullshitted my way through this

[songofclarity]

The way I see some discussions and mentions of Nie Dad’s death, they give the impression that Wen RuoHan killed him in the same manner Meng Yao killed those Nie cultivators in the Sun Palace: by savagely cutting him open and letting him bleed out across the floor while Nie MingJue could only stand there and helplessly watch.

And like, symbolically, I can see the similarities of teenage Nie MingJue having to just stand there and watch his dad rage himself to death in his sickbed, but what happened between Wen RuoHan and Nie Dad, and the Wen Sect and Nie Sect, is much more complicated and far less direct.

There are reasons Nie MingJue’s resentment is quoted as being about his father’s death and not, directly, at Wen RuoHan.

Three key points:

First, neither the Nie nor the Wen could ever possibly agree about who started the conflict or how it ended. Was Nie Dad truly the arrogant type who would be so prideful as to mock Wen RuoHan for enjoying something or did Wen RuoHan try to teach a lesson to someone who was the innocent victim of some guest cultivator’s malice? The guest cultivator played them both by setting up a lose-lose situation.

Second, Wen RuoHan did not and does not know about the saber spirit. Nie Dad was stuck in a sickbed for six months which shows there was plenty of time to heal him. Do the Qinghe Nie just not take care of their people? The Wen Sect love getting into other people’s business and they have fantastic doctors. Did the Nie Sect reject help when it was offered due to the secrecy of Nie Dad’s underlying condition? This Sounds Like a You Problem if the Nie Sect just let Nie Dad languish and die. It’s no wonder Nie MingJue would resent his father’s death if there was nothing in-house they could do to help him and the Nie Sect refused to seek outside help--especially for reasons of Sect pride.

Third, Nie Dad’s death, namely how Nie Dad handled being injured and the six months leading up to his death, was a horrific reality check for the Nie Sect and the consequences of their saber cultivation. Wen RuoHan did not lay hands on Nie Dad or attack him in any manner, and yet one indirect hit shattered what tenuous hold Nie Dad had on his temperament. How fragile and vulnerable the Qinghe Nie must have felt! Wen RuoHan found their fatal flaw by a complete accident! It’s easier for the Nie Sect to blame the Wen Sect when there is nothing they can do about changing their cultivation methods without completely changing the Nie Sect as they know it. Change is hard. Blame is easy. Anger is easy. Resentment is easy.

Keep in mind this conflict was not started by Wen RuoHan. I cannot emphasize that point enough. This conflict began when a guest cultivator heard the innocuous question, “What do you think of this saber of mine?” (ch. 49, ERS) and started naming names.

Wen RuoHan smacked Nie Dad's saber because he was told Nie Dad was arrogant, boastful, and condescending. He was told Nie Dad was a dirty liar who would compliment Wen RuoHan’s saber to his face and talk shit about it behind his back (or in his heart, which is kind of worse, actually).

[The guest cultivator,] "[Sect Leader Nie is] awfully arrogant, always boasting about how his prized saber is absolutely unrivaled, and how even in a hundred years no sword has been able [to be] compared to his. No matter how good one's saber was, he definitely won't admit it, and even if he did admit it out loud, he won't admit it in his heart." [Ch. 49, ERS]

Is this a true account of Nie Dad’s character or is it a complete fabrication in order to throw him under the bus? We’re never told. But Wen RuoHan is told that Nie Dad will not be telling him the truth about how he feels, so Wen RuoHan can’t even talk to Nie Dad about it in order to clear the air if he so wanted. The guest cultivator has put Wen RuoHan and Nie Dad in a lose-lose situation. The conflict has immediately degraded to petty passive aggressive revenge.

Wen RuoHan decides to test the waters. Or, perhaps, he will teach Nie Dad a lesson in humility.

[Wen RuoHan,] "Are you sure about that? Well, I want to see." (Ch. 49, ERS)

Wen RuoHan requests Nie Dad’s presence. He holds the saber and compliments that it’s a very good saber. Then he does one of three things: he tests the saber’s strength for himself, teaches Nie Dad a lesson about having too much pride, or both.

Wen RuoHan smacking the saber, trying to break it, is a good way to humble a man whose pride comes from having the so-called greatest saber. Maybe when that saber breaks Nie Dad won't be such an arrogant asshole anymore. The guest cultivator noted that the saber was a point of pride for Nie Dad. Take it away, and maybe he’ll be more humble from now on.

The saber should probably have broken when slapped several times, but it didn't, because it was indeed a good saber.

Wen RuoHan hands the saber back and that is the end of Wen RuoHan’s involvement with Nie Dad and the Nie Sect.

(Keep in mind that we hear about Wen RuoHan leaving his house ONE time in canon, and that was to fight Nie MingJue at Yangquan during the Sunshot Campaign. Wen RuoHan and the Wen never go after the Qinghe Nie again until after the Sunshot Campaign begins.)

Nie Dad leaves the Sun Palace without noticing anything wrong with his saber. He finds the encounter with Wen RuoHan strange, but he leaves it at that.

The Sect Leader of the greatest saber cultivation sect didn't know his own saber had somehow been damaged! How embarrassing for him when he went on a night hunt days later and it broke and he got severely injured!

And that's it. Now Nie Dad's saber isn't the greatest saber anymore. Wen RuoHan taught Nie Dad a lesson, purposefully or not, and Nie Dad is still very much alive. Cultivators aren't down with their injuries for very long. It took Qingheng-jun a month to die from his critical injuries. By comparison, the core-less Jiang Cheng recovered from his broken ribs in just 3 days and the core-less Wei WuXian healed from an abdomen wound in a week. Six months for Nie Dad, a capable cultivator with likely a powerful golden core, is a long time! Unlike Qingheng-jun, he arguably was at least in a stable if disabled condition if he lasted six months.

Lesson learned and he'll be fine.

But Nie Dad isn't fine. He stews in his anger, his embarrassment, his resentment. He lets his fury engulf him. He can't heal from his injuries because all he wants to do, let’s say, is rage and yell and fume about that fucking Wen RuoHan who played a dirty trick!

(And if he did rage as such, perhaps there is some hearty arrogance in him that he thought himself and his saber untouchable, that he didn’t even give it a second look after Wen RuoHan was involved.)

It's not clearly stated if Nie Dad died from his injuries or by qi deviation, but considering the extent Nie MingJue and his sworn brothers go to in order to avoid a qi deviation AND Nie MingJue’s own feelings with how his father died, it's highly probable that Nie Dad died from qi deviation. And, like I said, if a cultivator doesn't die immediately from their wound, and if the wound doesn’t even put them in a critical condition, they heal just nicely.

But Nie Dad dies. It’s interesting to note the description of Nie MingJue’s trauma:

The thing in Nie MingJue's life that he loathed and regretted the most was the death of his father...

After Sect Leader Nie was brought back [from the night hunt where his saber broke], he couldn't make peace with such an event no matter what, and his injuries didn't heal either. Having fallen ill for half a year, he finally left the world, from either the anger or the illness. The reason why Nie MingJue, along with the entire Qinghe Nie Sect, detested the Qishan Wen Sect with such intensity was due to this. (ch. 49, ERS)

Although the Wens become the target of Nie hatred in the wake of Nie Dad’s death, Nie MingJue isn’t loathing them specifically. It’s not Wen RuoHan he hates, but rather the death of his father. The nuance here is important. He loathes those six months where Nie Dad could not get better and refused to get better when he picked his anger over healing. Those six months where he would have lashed out and shouted at his innocent children--just like Nie MingJue would, years later, shout and lash out at his brothers.

The death of Nie Dad showed the very worst side of the Qinghe Nie Sect and the effects of their saber cultivation. And all Nie MingJue, just a teenager at the time, could do was stand there and watch it all unfold. What a nightmare. It’s no wonder he accepted help from the Song of Clarity when he did, especially when Lan XiChen and Jin GuangYao were amping up the risk. it really just highlights the outrageous betrayal by Jin GuangYao, who knew all of this about Nie MingJue and the Nie Sect and still did what he did, using intimate knowledge to slowly murder Nie MingJue for his own gain.

Not even Wen RuoHan was that cruel.

Because all the while Wen RuoHan is not aware of the saber spirit or Nie Dad’s high risk of qi deviations. Nobody outside the Nie Sect knows about the saber spirits. Outside the Nie Sect, saber spirits aren't a real thing that someone could reasonably plan for. Hell, even Nie HuaiSang went over twenty years not knowing about the saber spirits and he lived with them!

So there is no possible way Wen RuoHan could have suspected pulling a punk ass, petty stunt to humble Nie Dad would exacerbate this supernatural disease that would anger Nie Dad to death.

This isn’t to say that Wen RuoHan is innocent. He very much chose to call Nie Dad over and made the decision on his own to smack the saber. But fate took over after that. The saber didn’t have to break and it didn’t have to break at such a dangerous moment.

Wen RuoHan’s actions did not seek Nie Dad’s death--because if he wanted Nie Dad dead, he would have killed him. (Who could have stopped him? No one.) Having policies that cause injury but not necessarily death are kind of Wen RuoHan’s thing though. (That’s an analysis for another time.) Suffice to say, no one can learn their lesson if they’re dead. Indoctrination camps and supervisory offices require living, breathing people to teach and be supervised. Wen RuoHan never sought to take over the world, only to correct the obvious flaws in the world around him. Correcting Nie Dad’s arrogance and pride was such an attempt.

And the Nie Sect secrecy shot the Nie in the foot in the end. They were angry with Wen RuoHan and the Wen Sect for causing Nie Dad's death by causing his injuries by damaging the saber, but of course Wen RuoHan and the Wens would never agree with this under the known circumstances. And with them being Wens, of course they aren’t going to take the blame and no one else is powerful enough to force them. This whole situation is especially Not Their Fault from their point of view.

Nie Dad was in bed for six months without critical injuries.

Maybe the Nie Sect should have had gotten better doctors.

(And I can perfectly imagine the Wen Sect, always throwing their weight around, actually offering to send their doctors, arguably the best doctors in the cultivation world, and the Nie Sect refusing because what ailed Nie Dad was not something the Nie Sect wanted to share. Nie MingJue allowing his sworn brothers to help him shows he learned from the experience of his father’s death, but I digress.)

We know all of this to be true because Wen RuoHan, years later at the start of the Sunshot Campaign, speaks of the Nie Sect as a place where people die in part because of their personality type and in part because the Nie Sect itself fails to care for them:

...the Qinghe Nie Sect's sect leader [Nie MingJue] was so stiff that he'd easily snap in half--soon afterward, no need for others to move and he'd die in his own people's hands sooner or later... (ch. 61, ERS)

And considering what we know about the saber spirits, this is a pretty good deduction when Wen RuoHan is missing the saber spirit cornerstone. The Nie Sect has a cultivation tradition that kills them. Obviously it’s in the hands of their own people that they die, having picked up this cultivation style. Wen RuoHan also accurately determines that personality, such as Nie MingJue being inflexible, contributes to that death. It is the build-up of anger and resentment that eventually pushes the Nie cultivator to snap and fall into a qi deviation.

But of course Wen RuoHan also lacks the knowledge that saber spirits cause those personalities to begin with. That Nie Dad acting rigid or arrogant or harsh might not be because he’s an actual asshole, but rather because the saber spirit is effecting his temperament. With a teenage son, Nie Dad was likely pushing 40 if not already much older. We see what a juggernaut Nie MingJue already is in his early 20s. Nie Dad had more than twice the time to wreck his temperament than Nie MingJue ever did, and it still took him six months to die while in a constant state of turmoil while bed bound.

(Which really shows how deadly the Collection of Turmoil was if it could kill Nie MingJue in less than half that time. I know this post is about Wen RuoHan and the Nie, but it truly cannot be understated how horrifically cruel Jin GuangYao’s actions were when he carefully crafted Nie MingJue’s murder, especially how he would have heard from both sides how this all went down.)

In the end, Wen RuoHan obviously gained a vague idea about what happened and what the Qinghe Nie are like as a Sect, but he is, of course, missing the vital point--just as he misses the vital point when he doesn't actually try to kill Nie Dad.

#wen ruohan #sect leader nie #nie mingjue #mdzs thoughts #mdzs quotes #i am both a pro nmj and pro wrh blog so please play nicely

[bansheeoftheforest]

Uh, is there still an angst break? Ignore this ask until your ready if so 👉😎👉

-

What was the au where Jekylls pushed down the stairs and experiences a skull crackening again? Oh well but I've been thinking of a branch of that where Jekyll doesn't know hes dead like all day. I also cant remember if that was already discussed or not

The lodgers patch him up, he complains of a headache, and goes on his merry way! He's confused why all the lodgers are so nervous and being nice to him all of the sudden, why creature is looking at him with a stange mix of empathy and pity. He was told he fell down the stairs, fell unconscious, and obtained a bit of an injury. He cant fathom why Frankenstein is "The only doctor who can treat him" why he has to constantly go to her for checkups. Why Maijabi is suddenly following him practically everywhere.

Hyde squeezes back control for a moment and tries the potion but it doesn't work. Maybe a bit of pain but certainly no transformation. Jekyll assumes his injury or whatever medication they're giving him to treat it somehow negated the effects

Jekyll complains about "suddenly blacking out" the lodgers know its because his soul is slippery. They tell him it must just be a side effect of the injury and not to worry

How long can they keep it secret from him? When does he find out? Does he? Does it get to be years only for him to realize that he hasn't aged? That he still needs checkups from Frankenstein? Does he learn sooner? Does a lodger crack and say it? Does he rot? Does he notice how so very cold he is. How animals act around him? It's all very interesting,,

-

I actually did think a bit of Jekyll's kidnappers for the amnesia kidnapping au! When drawing that lil sketch of Henry and O'Leary meeting Robert I had considered making it so O'Leary was suspicious of Lanyon like "Oh theres no news anywhere of someone matching Thomas' description who's missing. But some random people walk up claiming to know him? Begging to take him back with them?" And he'd think they were the kidnappers. But ultimately I decided against it as I felt Lanyon and Rachel were pretty clearly, genuinely concerned for "Thomas" :p

-

I tried playing assassins creed once, the first(?) one. But the controls were confusing and everything was sorta thrown all at me at once, and I got bored of it quickly

But! I went to the store the other day and just so happened to notice Syndicate was being sold for 15 dollars 👀 So I bought it because funky Victorian assassins and your influence! It's a bit less confusing then the first ac game I tried but why is going down or dropping so hard bdksnks. I'm having quite a bit of fun! If you dont count my rage and annoyance-, the B button refuses to cooperate with me unless I'm looting corpses >:(

The b button being the bane of my existence aside, I AM having fun! I like the funky outfits and I want to play as the girl twin (evie?) forever because her clothes are good and shes better at attacking than jacob(?) For some reason. Probably the stun her weapon has? Oh well! I have not unlocked any new outfits yet, nonetheless I wish there were more.

Also! I was thimking, and my current quests are taking place at 1868? Did I get that right? And Jekyll is like 35 in 1885. So in game he'd be 18! An au like I believe you mentioned sounds very interesting 👀 but I must play more to know what's going on and daydream about it

That would be the resurrection au <3

But god, I really like that branch! Especially combined with the hc that he can't feel pain bc the HJ7 and the transformations made him immune. Frankenstein patched him up and made fleshweaver to heal the crack in his skull but it still has to be bandaged, he surely broke a few bones, yet all he has to do is to be careful because it doesn't even hurt. He doesn't even realize how severe the injuries are because it doesn't hurt, it very well might just have been that he accidentally slipped at the bottom of the staircase and accidentally hit his head on the railing during his fall, rather than getting physically pushed and flying down the stairs, shattering his skull upon impact with the marble floor. Y'know what would be extra fun? If he only starts getting a bit suspicious about how severe the injury was once he realizes his lungs stop breathing for minutes at a time when he gets distracted, or his heartbeat stops dead in his chest. I know that that's not how biology or even creature works but lets say the HJ7 is funky, Zombie Jekyll my beloved. Perhaps he would only fully grasp what had happened once he blacked out too much and 'passed out', but his soul slipped out enough to leave his body unconscious on the floor while his soul/ghost was just... Watching. And it's not until Maijabi (who, as you said, follows him everywhere) immediately calls for more Lodgers saying that Henry's soul is getting unstable and Frankenstein's lousy job is starting to shine through that he fully understands that it was not a mere hit to the head. Or maybe it is when days, weeks, maybe months has passed and the headache never goes away, he only feels how his body starts feeling so much more... Fragile and delicate, that the guilt has eaten Helsby up alive and he corners him and spills everything, knowing he is going directly against what the group agreed to but not being able to keep it a secret much longer-- or maybe Creature would tell him immediately, once Henry is, for once, alone perhaps days after the initial accident. He cannot see Henry struggle to understand what is going on when he already knows what's happening to Henry, his mind, and his body. He doesn't listen to the plan that Frankenstein and the Lodgers has set up and immediately tells Henry the first moment they are alone. That would certainly be horrifying, I can only imagine how the Lodgers would find Henry after that, once he actually knows and manages to process everything. He would be so mad, not only to have been killed in the first place, but also because he was robbed of an afterlife because the Lodgers were selfish and could not accept the consequences of their actions. He would be mad, he would be so pissed and I have no doubt he might actually be mad at Maijabi too for even agreeing to help Frankenstein and the rest of the Lodgers. That anger would not stay long, though. That anger would soon turn into misery and sadness and paranoia so even as Henry has tried to push Maijabi away, Henry still ends up on his doorstep begging him to help him make sure he is not rotting, because no matter what anyone says, he is sure he can see rotten spots and patches on his skin and he is just so scared and jdhfjsdfdsfsfs... <3

--

Ooooooohhh, I was actually daydreaming about this just this morning! Granted, I woke up at 5 and began to daydream to fall asleep quicker but I still like the thought of O'Leary being suspicious of Robert/Rachel/Jasper/the Lodgers bc he is protective of 'Thomas' and doesn't want anything bad to happen to him and especially with the idea that Henry still has hallucinations and they both think he was abandoned by his family, left to rot at a mental asylum. O'Leary might very well think that it might be Henry's friends and family that dumped him that Henry had 'escaped' the hospital and that's why they knew he was missing since the Asylum itself obviously wouldn't have posted the news... I really liked Jeks idea, okay? Like a lot, I absolutely love it <3

--

Oh, the oldest AC game I played was Unity bc it was free after the Notre Dame fire, and I can confirm, I played 15 min and could not get through it even if i would have wanted to, it absolutely sucks so i have no doubt the older games are just as frustrating <3

BUT!!!! I'M SO GLAD MY CORRUPTION IS SPREADING AND YOU BOUGHT AND PLAYED IT AND ARE ENJOYING IT SO FAR!!! Trust me, Syndicate truly is an absolutely amazing game and is definitely one of my top 3 games of all time. I sometimes play it w my friend watching me play and trust me, I know that rage of trying to do smt but the character does smt else... or you try to do smt but the game doesn't react and you miss your chance... Oh well, still a wonderful game <3

My friend loves to play as Evie as well but I'm definitely playing Jacob every chance I get and I honestly get a lil pissy when I have to play as Evie bc I always prefer to play male characters, plus, I just like Jacob better bc he is a sweetheart. He is also canonically bisexual as hell!!! Have you met Abberline yet? The police officer? Him and Jacob together is one of my fave ships for the game. I also bought the ultimate/golden/whatever name it was edition so I had a bunch of extra outfits, I love the sherlock holmes outfit for Jacob but my friend keeps bullying me for it </3

Honestly? The time difference is the bane of my entire idea for the au bc if it's during their time Henry hasn't even graduated yet, and definitely not well-known enough for them to actively meet for whatever reason, and if you use the timeline for the jack the ripper dlc (in 1888) a lot of... Less than pleasant things happen so it wouldn't really make a lot of sense for a crossover to happen at that point but maybe it's just bc im a pussy and refuse to play the dlc. Rn, while imagining the au, I just imagine the 1868 timeline to be the same as the TGS timeline. I like to imagine the Frye Twins hearing about Henry and the Society and promptly breaking into his office to ask him to make poison and stuff for them. I also have a feeling that Jacob would flirt wildly with Henry and that Henry would be less-than-amused. It would also be a very fun thing with the fact that there would be two Henrys, with TGS Henry Jekyll and AC Syndicate Henry Green, soo... XD

#Man I really want to hear your journey through syndicate!!! #Oh man I cant wait until you meet Maxwell #and Crawford for that matter #he was the guy I based the crawford in the fic off of bc i had no idea what else to do <3 #OHH there would also be a lot of mixup with Lucy Thorne and TGS Queen Lucy #oh i can imagine them being rivals #that would be fun <3 #ask #darling-dolly-darlene #banshees au #resurrection au #amnesia kidnapping au

[marshmallow-phd]

Nine Little Letters

Genre: College AU, Fake Dating AU, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before AU

Inspired By: This graphic made by @rcse-tvler​

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: Just when you thought life was done shoving you down, it got much, much worse. After finding out that your latest crush was already in a relationship, you did what you always did when emotions ran high: you wrote a letter. Signed and sealed, you put it away with the eight other letters you’d written to past one-sided loves, never to be seen again. That is, until a mix up accidentally sends those letters out to their respective recipients and you find yourself in the middle of one confusing web of love. With fake relationships, insecurities, and revelations swirling around, things are bound to get a little messy.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11

The second letter you ever wrote was perhaps the most embarrassing of them all.

During the summer of your thirteenth year, Baekhyun had gone away to a summer camp that had lasted for over a month. Bored to tears due to the missing antics, you spent more time with your other friend, Yeonhee, though - as much as you loved her - her presence didn’t have the same level of comfort as Baekhyun’s did. You weren’t sure what the reason was, but there always seemed to be this invisible barrier between you and Yeonhee. You couldn’t get quite as close to her. There was so much relief the day that Baekhyun came back. But something else was there, too. Something that had been growing throughout the absence.

At first, you thought your heart was beating fast because you ran to the park where Baekhyun told you to meet him. You were excited - elated - to have your best friend back. When you saw him lying on the teeter-totter, you stopped. His skin was sun-kissed, hair a bit longer and tousled. You’d never realized how… handsome he was before. Your face was smiling before you knew it.

You liked him. That had to explain why you missed him so much, right? As soon as Baekhyun saw that you’d arrived, he lit up, jumping off the playground equipment and running towards you. He pulled you into a quick hug then stepped back, ruffling your hair.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Come on.” He grabbed your hand and started pulling you away from the teeter-tatter. “Let’s go down to the creek!”

You followed him without hesitation, loving the feeling of his hand in yours. Later that night, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep because of this new information. At thirteen, you were a bit smarter than you were at ten, so you decided to put some feelers out. You would see if there was any chance that he felt the same way. The two of you were close, after all. The chance had to be there, didn’t it?

The answer was no. And you received that answer almost immediately. The next day Baekhyun went on and on about this girl he had met at camp. He talked about how funny she was and cute and playful. And beautiful. He wouldn’t stop talking about how pretty he found her. She was at a summer camp, for Pete’s sake, but somehow still managed to be soft and delicate and everything Baekhyun liked in girls. It felt like an uppercut punch to the jaw. You could be soft and delicate. You wore skirts and boots and cardigans. Your room was pastel colors! What was the difference between you and this girl he rambled on about?

Flashing back to Jongin and how much better you felt after writing him the letter, you sat down at the table while your parents were away at work and tried to see if it had the same effect.

 Dear Baekhyun,

How are you? I guess that’s an awkward thing to ask given how I always know how you are. You always tell me, whether you’re happy or sad or simply indifferent. You tell me everything. And I’ve always loved that, the fact that we could tell each other whatever we’re thinking. But lately, you’ve been telling me too much and I’ve been keeping quiet. You tell me so much about this girl you met at camp and how much you like her and what the two of you talked about on the phone last night and how you’ve made plans to meet up next week. You go on and on about her without seeing the hurt in my eyes. I stay silent because of that hurt. Because while you were away, I realized something. I realized that I like you. As more than just my best friend. I find myself wishing that you were talking about me that way. What does this girl have that I don’t, anyway? She sounds a lot like me. I even wondered at one point if you were secretly talking about me until you mentioned meeting up with her. You seem so happy, though. So, I wonder, should I say anything or should I just go on being just your friend? I guess I'll make the decision at the end of this letter. If I send it out or if I keep it hidden in my drawer. Do I come out and say it or do I risk forever thinking “What if?” Only time will really tell. Either way, I hope you’re happy. That’s most important.

Love,

(y/n)

 In the end, you decided not to mail it. Though you never met the girl from summer camp, Baekhyun ended up “dating” her for the fall semester of school - if it could be counted since they lived in different cities. He always went to see her, but she never made the same effort. That was why they broke up, according to Baekhyun. Though he never came to see you in the same light as far as you were aware, you found that you were able to move on, to see him once again simply as your friend. Perhaps the two of you were soulmates in the platonic way. You were thankful to your past self for not mailing out that letter. Where would your friendship be if you had sent it? Would there even still be a friendship?

“Okay, I know you’re not a professional or anything, but you’re even worse today. What’s going on?”

You blinked, coming out of your head just in time to watch your character crumple to the ground, dead. Great.

You weren’t the best at video games, but you found them fun and Sehun didn’t mind if you weren’t as good as him. He definitely carried the two of you in the team rounds.

“Nothing, I just have a lot on my mind.” Both the truth and a lie. You were mildly distracted at the moment. It was a small amount of connected things. Seeing Junmyeon with a girlfriend had conjured up some old insecurities. While you were fairly sure that you were over him, you were circling around your lack of love life - and lack of dating history. As in zero. Zip. A big old goose egg. Of course, when that happened, you tended to retreat into your books and movies. Which rom-coms you were going to binge tonight was currently at the forefront of your mind, held up by everything else.

“So, obviously, it’s not nothing,” Sehun pointed out over the headset. Touché.

“Okay, it’s not nothing, but it's not something you’d be interested in anyway.”

“Try me.”

You paused. “I was thinking about how I’ve never had a boyfriend, so I was going to watch romantic comedies tonight.”

Silence.

Well, not total silence since the video game was still on in the background, but there was no response from your partner. “Sehun?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m not that interested. But I also don’t see how watching movies about romance is a direct response to not having a boyfriend.”

You sighed as your character re-spawned and you continued with the game, covering Sehun from any surprise attacks as you inched closer to enemy territory. “They make me feel better.”

He took a pause to kill an enemy soldier before replying, “I still don’t get it. How can watching fake couples get together make you feel better? If you want a boyfriend, why don’t you go out and get one? It’s not like there isn’t a whole campus full of single guys.”

You scoffed. Yeah, right. Like it was that simple. There wasn’t a store or a catalogue that you could flip through and go “Oh, I’d like that one!” and have a boyfriend ready and raring to go. Although… someone should get on that revolutionary idea. It could be worth millions.

Part of you wanted to respond with “Fine, do you want to date me?” but you bit your tongue, knowing that you didn’t mean it. There had once been a time that you had thought about Sehun in that way. The two of you rarely saw each other in person. For a good year and a half, the two of you had been simple online buddies until you realized you lived in the same city. You’d invited Sehun along to outings with Baekhyun and Yeonhee, but they didn’t click very well, so it didn’t happen too often. After the first time you met Sehun, you thought he was cute. Que the letter.

 Dear Sehun.

I know you try to hide it, but you’re actually very sweet. And I know that you let me win sometimes. And you help me every chance you get. I like you because of that. Also, I never thought you would be cute. Is that bad? Do you think you could like me back? We could be that gamer couple. Those who play together, stay together, right?

Love,

(y/n).

 It was the cringiest of all your letters. Short, uninteresting, bland. After you wrote it, you realized quickly that those were the only reasons you liked him: his face and he was nice to you. Were your standards really that low? His letter always stayed at the bottom of the pile, hardly ever revisited. That was when you realized it was hard to truly like someone you didn’t know all that well. You still considered him a friend and could confide in him, but he didn’t make your comfortable triangle a square.

“Hey, (y/n)!” Baekhyun burst into your room with no warning. You jumped, letting out a rare curse into the headset.

“Baekhyun, what are you doing here?” On Saturdays he was usually busy giving piano lessons.

“And on that note, I’m out.” Sehun clicked off without a real goodbye. You shook your head. Boys.

You turned off your console and swiveled around in your chair. Baekhyun was seated at your vanity which made you nervous. He knew better than to go peeking into your things, but that hardly stopped him. And while he was aware of the letters’ existence, he was neither aware of his own nor where they were located.

“My pupil for the day canceled on me. They’re sick. I was bored so I came over. As per usual.” Looking over his shoulder at your mirror, he plucked off one of the pictures you had wedged into the frame. “Heard from your long-distance boyfriend lately?”

“Hardy, har-har.” You snatched the picture from him and replaced it. “He’s not my boyfriend and you know it.”

Zhang Yixing was your pen pal from high school. After seeing a flyer on one of the bulletin boards in the hallway, you jumped at the chance to communicate with someone from another country without really thinking about it. The partners were all chosen at random and you considered yourself quite lucky. The person you exchanged letters with was sweet and funny and really read what you wrote to him, always replying to your words before going into his own story. While life got in the way and the two of you weren’t able to exchange letters at the frequency you once had, you still received a surprise every so often.

And yes, before anyone asks, he was one of the nine. One look at his dimpled smile and charming eyes and anyone would be hooked. You’d giggled like crazy when you opened the letter junior year and his photo fell out. He’d wanted to show you the countryside school he’d volunteered at and the kids he’d helped. As cute as those children were, he was all you could look at. So, naturally, there was one letter you never sent. It didn’t make sense to send it. He was in an entirely different country. So, you used his letter as camouflage, keeping it on top at all times to hide the others underneath.

“And no, by the way. I haven’t gotten a letter for a little bit.”

“Too busy volunteering?” Baekhyun quipped.

“You could take a page out of his book, you know.”

“I do give back! I give free lessons all the time!”

Okay… that was true. Baekhyun did have a soft heart for kids that wanted to learn to play the piano but whose parents couldn't afford to pay for lessons. About twice a month on Sundays, he went to a local church and taught a class for anyone who wanted to join. It was actually kind of sweet. You’d gone a few times and he could be pretty adorable with the kids.

“Alright,” you said. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” Baekhyun pursed his lips and tapped a finger against his chin. His eyes slowly made their way around your room. He would smile when his eyes landed on pictures of the two of you or little souvenirs from your various adventures. Your room was like a scrapbook for the world to view. You enjoyed being surrounded by memories, like reading a book based on your life. “I’m kind of hungry.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “For what?”

He turned away from you, mostly still listening, but obviously distracted by something. “Let’s go to a grill.”

That suggestion sent sparks off in your brain. Your stomach, which had been neutral up until now, was roaring for the sizzling meat and spicy side dishes. In fact, you’d been distracted at the thought of a Korean grill that you didn’t notice Baekhyun’s hand twitching on the forbidden drawer. Before your brain could process what he was doing, the drawer was open. Baekhyun pulled the entire stack of letters out.

“Wow, you actually do keep all of these!”

“What the hell are you doing!” You bounced on him, tackling him down to the floor as you wrestled the envelopes from him. Once you finally pulled them free, you smacked his arm with the stack. “You jerk! You know those are private!”

He actually had the audacity to pout. “I just wanted to see!”

“They’re not for you to see!”

“Come on, (y/n),” Baekhyun sat up when you moved off him. You kept the envelopes close to your chest in case he tried for them again. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“Don’t you dare try to guilt trip me,” you snapped. “I have a right to my privacy. These aren’t meant for anyone else but me.”

“Fine.” He threw his hands up in defeat. “But you might want to find a better hiding spot. Let’s go eat.” He left your room, smiling to himself.

Grumbling to yourself, you placed the envelopes on your vanity. Later, you would find a better place to put them. For now, though, you draped a shirt over the stack so they were mostly covered.

You forgot about the letters for the most part by the time the two of you made it to the restaurant. Baekhyun had his moments where he didn’t think things through or he acted purely on impulse, but you could forgive those happenings. At least, when he was paying for dinner. On the way to the grill, you called Yeonhee to join.

“So, there’s this girl in my World Music three-oh-four class,” Baekhyun said right after shoving a stuffed sesame leaf into his mouth. “She’s really cute. And plays the cello. Her fingers are so nimble and small.”

“So, you going to ask her out?” you teased.

Baekhyun took some time to chew his food before answering. “Yeah. Actually, I think I might.”

“Does she seem interested in you?” Yeonhee asked. She was always the more practical one out of the three of you. She saw things in black and white. She either chose door number one or door number two. It was a philosophy she used in every aspect of her life. That realism rounded your little triangle out. Baekhyun was the carefree, never-knew-what-he-was-going-to-do-next type, you were the slightly anxiety-ridden, romantic daydreamer, and Yeonhee was the down-to-earth, rational one.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay. Then do it.” Yeonhee pulled her long, dark brown hair back into a scrunchy to keep it out of her face. To her, that was the end of it.

Baekhyun sent you a look, but he shrugged. “Alright. I’ll see her on Monday, so I’ll ask her to coffee then.”

Your phone vibrated against the table. Normally you would have ignored it, but given the lull in conversation, you checked to see the notification. It was a text from your mom.

I’m doing laundry. It looks like you have a full hamper. Do you want me to take some?

You smiled. You loved getting out of laundry. Yeah! Thank you!

Okay! A second text came through. Do you want me to take this shirt on the vanity, too?

Shirt? What- Panic swept through you. No! That’s okay! It’s clean.

Okay! Love you!

Love you, too!

Phew. That was close.

The rest of dinner was spent talking about classes and professors and new movies coming out. The three of you bounced from subject to subject, spending a good hour and half at the table slowly devouring the different meat courses. Multiple groups came and went while you sat there and enjoyed this time with your two best friends. When it was time to go home, Yeonhee volunteered to take you home since it was more on her way than Baekhyun’s. Once there, she parked in your driveway. Rounding the car, you bent down to tell her goodnight. A second or two later, Kyungsoo pulled into his parents’ driveway. He got out of his own car, eyes down on his phone. Noticing the two of you next door, he froze. There was an awkward tension as the exes made eye contact while you stood there like an unneeded third wheel on a bike. Finally, Kyungsoo broke the contact and went inside.

“Have you talked to him lately?” you asked.

Yeonhee shook her head. “Not at all. What’s the point? I ended it. Going back and opening the wound makes no sense.”

“Yeah, that’s understandable. I’ll, um, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

You straightened up and headed inside.

Yeonhee and Kyungsoo were a tragic story, at least in your eyes.

Kyungsoo was your next-door neighbor for your entire life though the two of you didn’t interact very often. He ran in different circles and seemed annoyed by Baekhyun most of the time - a pattern you were not blind to. But Yeonhee always took the time to talk to him if you happened to be in the front yard and crossed paths. Oblivious to what was going on while they conversed, you stood by, studying your neighbor.

He was handsome and sweet when he wasn’t frowning. In fact, his smile was quite stunning. And he was smart and, though rare, cracked jokes that had you in stitches. You found yourself admiring him. Imagine your shock when you discovered that he was dating one of your best friends. You were devastated. The strength of the feeling took you by surprise. But you’d managed to keep it together in front of both of them. Only when you were alone were you finally able to let it out. That night you’d locked yourself in your room, tears flowing in an unending stream. At some point, you were sitting down at your vanity, pencil flying across the page without you having to think it through.

 Dear Kyungsoo,

What am I even feeling right now? How am I feeling like this? You were always just my neighbor, the boy next door. Occasionally kind, helpful. I never even suspected that you liked Yeonhee or that she liked you back. I was completely left out, blind to what was happening in front of me. Mostly because I couldn’t see past myself. You were nothing like how I’d thought in our younger years. You are so much more. Amazing feels like too simple a word but that’s all I can conjure up. I’ve been so in awe that I couldn't completely understand what it was that I was feeling inside. But now… I feel like my heart has shattered. I had come to look forward to talking to you in between our yards. I never suspected you were coming out for Yeonhee. You chose her over me. I’m sure in your eyes, I was never even one of the selections. But why? Am I really that invisible?

You are a wonderful person. I’m not sure if there are enough adjectives in the world to describe how I see you. You’re like a portrait in the Louvre, unable for me to touch. You’re out of reach. And now that you’re with Yeonhee, you always will be. I know that you’ll treat her well. You’ll keep her hand warm with your own like I wish you could with mine. When she’s tired, she’ll rest her head on your shoulder. I hope you’re a comforting pillow. You seem like that kind of person. A comfort, a stronghold. I wish you could have been mine.

Love,

(y/n).

 They dated for two years before Yeonhee inexplicably ended the relationship. You knew she would have a very logical, analyzed reasoning for why she abruptly broke it off, though she never told you or anyone. However, you were surprised with how angry you were at her. How could she do that to someone like Kyungsoo, who had never treated her badly even for a moment? Your sympathy lied with him, but you had to show support for your friend. She wanted to move on, so you pretended to understand. She didn’t come around very often anymore in case of situations like tonight where she might accidentally run into or see him.

Up in your bedroom, you took a deep breath. Because it still hurt after all this time. You still longed to be the one he looked at, the one he wanted to see. Out of all your letters, his was the one that never worked. His was sealed up tight, but the feelings didn’t go away. They held on tight like a rock climber without a rope. You could distract yourself with other crushes, give in to fleeting feelings for others. And it would work for a little while. But in your weak moments, those feelings never failed to come back. Tonight was a reminder of that.

#exo #exo fake dating au #exo fake dating!au #exo x reader #exo college au #exo college!au #to all the boys i've loved before au #exo series #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #kim junmyeon #suho #kim minseok #xiumin #zhang yixing #lay #byun baekhyun #kim jongdae #chen #park chanyeol #d.o. #do kyungsoo #kim jongin #kai #oh sehun #Nine Little Letters

[bloodfromthethorn]

Stabbed

It might have been Mac’s idea to split up, but past-him was clearly an idiot and shouldn’t have been trusted. Maybe if he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t be in this mess now with a broken arm, a butterfly knife tucked up against his ribs, and no way of diverting the two-by-four about to take off his head. 

Part one of a belated July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge. 

Also on AO3. 

..

As fights went, this wasn’t exactly one of Mac’s highlights. For one, there was three of them and one of him. For another, they’d managed to get the jump on him when he was distracted trying to follow Riley’s instructions to get information out of the ancient computer tucked away in the corner. Pretty much the only thing he had going for him was that he’d been on open comms when the two-by-four had cracked down over his shoulder and his yell of pain had summoned Jack in a way very little else could.

All he really had to do was hold his own for the couple of minutes it would take his Overwatch to get there. With a broken arm. Against three of them.

Piece of cake.

He ducked low as the guy with a length of steel pipe took a swing at him, then rapidly sidestepped the following two-by-four that swung up to meet him. These guys weren’t well trained fighters by any stretch of the imagination, but they were apparently smart enough to tag team him in a way that was increasingly hard to combat. One arm down and no weapon to speak of, the best Mac had managed to do was dodge their attacks and keep himself from being cornered. All the while, a solid portion of his concentration was taken up keeping an eye on the third man, who had spent the most time hanging back, watching more than fighting.

Judging by the butterfly knife he was casually spinning across his fingers, he was taking great pleasure in waiting for his opening. Mac was determined not to give him one.

“Two minutes Mac,” Jack reported breathlessly, his voice hard and angry. He seemed to have taken the fact that they’d mutually agreed to split up earlier as some sort of personal failing and was fully willing to work that guilt and anger out on whoever had dared to interfere with his EOD. “Just keep yourself alive for two more minutes.”

That’s the plan, Mac thought drily, but he didn’t spare the oxygen to voice it. The less these guys knew about his backup’s imminent arrival, the better. Instead, he took the opportunity to capitalise on a particularly sloppy jab from the man with the pipe, slipping past his guard to kick out his knee and use his uninjured left hand to shove his head sharply into the concrete wall Mac had carefully been leading him towards. He dropped like a stone.

The victory was short lived as the second man let out a yell of frustration seeing his – friend? Comrade? Whatever – out of the fight and went in on Mac with a flurry of attacks that he was just barely able to keep up with. The wood grazed across his forehead, gouging out an inch-long gash, then cracked sharply against his hip to send him staggering directly into the path of the third man.

Mac had just enough time to pull himself sharply upright in a futile attempt to get away before there was an arm wrapping firmly around his throat and the sharp point of the knife was pressing up into his ribs.

“Well, well, well,” the man purred, wanting to draw out his victory. “Ain’t that better?”

Mac’s working hand darted up to snatch at the arm pressing across his throat, but even if he wasn’t being held at knife-point, he didn’t have the strength or the leverage to do much about the hold. With both arms, maybe, or perhaps if the blow to his hip hadn’t turned his left leg troublingly numb – but no. He was well and truly stuck.

The man with the two-by-four was grinning sharply, hefting the plank in his hands. His eyes carefully tracked the blood painting a scarlet flag down the side of Mac’s face.

“Let go of me,” Mac tried, wanting to sound firm but too breathless and pained to pull it off effectively.

The one behind him snorted. “Ha, yeah, right. After what you did to Joey? Not fuckin’ likely. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“No one of importance,” he shot back, still trying to get the arm around his throat to let up enough so he could breathe. “I’m of no interest to you.”

“Yeah? Then what were you doing messing on that computer? You think some good for nothin’ kid is breakin’ in here to look at our shit?”

Their intel had indicated that this building was being used by one faction of a gun-running operation; he and Jack had been tasked with getting in and finding out whatever they could. Now, faced with some of the people apparently running the place, Mac wasn’t entirely convinced. None of them appeared to be carrying guns of their own, for starters.

His momentary hesitation did him no favours with the man in front of him. He snarled darkly, hefting the plank up and took a darting step forwards to bring it down on him-

-He never made it that far.

There was a deafening crack of sound, followed shortly by an overly loud clatter in the silence of the room as the wood tumbled to the ground. The man formerly holding it joined his weapon a second later, a scarlet bullet hole marring the previously smooth skin of his forehead.

There was a heartbeat in which neither Mac nor his captor moved, briefly stunned by the new turn of events, before Mac was bodily hauled around as a human shield between the man and the fuming Phoenix agent standing in the doorway. If Mac hadn’t known Jack, he’d be half tempted to assume he was about to be rescued by some sort of avenging angel; the man’s face was dark with fury but the raised gun was steady as a rock. He didn’t seem to react to Mac’s presence at all, his entire focus fixed on the man holding a knife to the person he had dedicated his own life to protecting.

“Let him go,” he said softly, not needing to raise his voice to make the threat in his tone clear. In full tac gear and with that expression on his face, everything about Jack screamed dangerous.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Let him go,” Jack said again.

The knife pressed up just a little harder. Mac winced. “Put the gun down and I just might.” He didn’t put any apparent effort into making the lie sound believable.

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Fuck you!”

“Let him go, or you’re going to go the same way as your friend over there,” Jack warned him quietly. “If you wanna live, you’ve gotta put down that knife.”

“You’re not gonna shoot me. Don’t you know who the fuck I am?” The knife twitched again, this time just sharply enough to draw a bead of blood where it dug into his skin. Jack’s brow gave the slightest dip as he registered the flash of pain across Mac’s face, but his stance didn’t waver.

“I couldn’t care less who you think you are. All you are to me right now is a target. So put the goddamn knife down or you’re gonna get hurt.”

“Listen to him,” Mac cut in, his voice rasping slightly around the pressure on his throat. “You can walk away from this.”

The arm yanked tighter. “Shut the fuck up,” the man retorted instantly, momentarily diverting his attention away from Jack to bark the words directly into Mac’s ear. Jack used the brief distraction to shift forward another few feet.

“You stab me and he’s going to shoot you,” Mac continued regardless, keeping his eyes fixed on the muzzle of Jack’s gun. It was fixed on a spot just over Mac’s right shoulder. “You don’t walk away from this unless you let me go.”

The arm jerked again, cutting off Mac’s airway completely for just a moment. He wisely bit down on whatever he was going to say next, then immediately regretted it when the man finally noticed how close Jack had managed to get. He let out a wordless growl of frustration, pulling on Mac until he was forced to take a staggering step backwards. His left leg was still tingling with pins and needles and was utterly unwilling to take his weight.

“Get back,” The man shrieked, his steady self-confidence faltering under sudden panic. Whatever Jack saw in his expression, it was enough for him to sway back half a step, his eyes darting down to where he could just see the knife under Mac’s useless, dangling arm. “You bastards have no idea who you’re messing with! You think you can kill me? You don’t know a fuckin’ thing!”

Mac was dragged back another step and it was only then he remembered that there was another door somewhere behind him. He silently cursed himself for letting it slip his mind, but in his defence he had quite a lot else to be keeping track of right at that moment. When the man tried to move him any further, he dug in his single solid heel and refused to budge.

“Come the fuck on,” he hissed, jabbing him with the knife again. A small trail of blood was idly making its way down his back, but there was still a chance to salvage the situation.

“Look man,” he tried, “You’re right, we don’t know anything about you. You can get out of here now and walk away from this clean. But if you kill me? You don’t know anything about who we are either and let me tell you, there’s no way you walk away from that. Even if you don’t die here, you won’t get far.”

“He’s right,” Jack put in, trying to draw the man’s attention back to him. Apparently he’d decided that Mac had already risked himself quite enough. “There’s nowhere on this Earth you can hide from my team. You hurt him and I will make it my life’s mission to hunt you down and repay the favour. Let him go now? You get to live the rest of your life without my face in your rear-view mirror.”

A great many things happened then, and Mac would never be entirely sure of the precise course of events. What he did know was that there was a strange shuffle of movement and Jack’s face contorted, opening his mouth as if he was yelling something, though whatever it was Mac had no idea. In the same instant, the man behind him went tense as a bow string. Half a second later he registered the pinprick of the blade withdrawing sharply from his side as the arm around his throat pulled viciously tight and some primitive instinct tucked away in his hindbrain screamed at him to move-

Without actively meaning to, Mac twisted himself as far sideways as he could go when he was still pinned in place and then everything else fell away in one sharp rush as a frozen bolt of pain speared its way through his chest. For an endless moment he hung there, suspended by the sheer agony itself, before the arm around him vanished and he was suddenly falling forwards into Jack’s outstretched arms.

There was shouting and movement and the distant awareness that something was happening, but it all felt too muffled and far away for Mac to properly process. All he could focus on was the way the ice bleeding through his ribcage was steadily warming into a blazing inferno of pain so sharp it took his breath away. It was like fire, licking across the skin of his back and through his lungs until he was sure he must be breathing out embers. If he’d had the strength, he’d have screamed.

Very faintly, he registered there were hands on him, touching his shoulders, his face. It didn’t matter – nothing mattered except the pain. Anything beyond it was nothing but shadow.

The hands tightened, pulling him up and digging into his back-

Everything went dark.

..

He came to what can only have been a couple of seconds later, though it might as well have been hours for how little he was able to grasp the reality around him. His vision was, thankfully, restored to him at least, enough to see that Jack had dragged him over to one of the walls and propped him up to lean painfully on his broken arm. He pondered that for far longer than he should have had to before he realised: the knife had gone in on his right side. If his lung was hit – and no doubt it must be because breathing still felt firmly impossible – then Jack would be trying to ensure blood wasn’t pooling in the one lung still functional.

Jack himself was hunched awkwardly over him, one arm tucked around him to keep pressure on the wound while his other tapped insistently at Mac’s cheek. On seeing his eyes open, his expression fractured with terrified relief.

“There you are,” he said, sounding utterly wrecked. “Stay with me, man.”

Mac opened his mouth to inform him that he was trying his best, but nothing escaped him beyond a wheezing hiss of air. There was something warm at the corner of his mouth that tasted like copper and for the first time, Mac registered that there was a pretty high chance he was about to die. He was in too much pain to be overly bothered about that outcome, but even half dead he couldn’t help but be pissed that Jack was going to have to watch it happen.

“Save your strength Mac,” Jack ordered firmly, his thumb swiping away the blood on his chin. “Help’s coming, you’ve just gotta keep breathing for me, okay? I know it hurts.”

Obligingly, Mac tried to suck in air and instantly choked on the pain clawing at his chest. He felt himself contort before familiar hands pushed him back down, steadying and sure, keeping him still while the agony washed through him. By the time it passed, Mac felt utterly drained and the taste of copper had grown stronger. He lazily rolled his eyes across the room, taking in the fact there were now three bodies lying there instead of the two he’d known about before he got stabbed. He considered being distressed about that for a moment before the pain swelled again and he quickly decided not to bother – he wasn’t about to feel bad about the asshole who stabbed him.

“Mac,” Jack snapped, drawing his attention back to him. “C’mon man, I need you to breathe.” He pulled at one of Mac’s hands and pressed it flat to his own chest, letting him feel the steady rhythm of his own lungs. “With me, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

A small, pain-addled part of Mac desperately wanted to snap at him, to ask him what the hell did he think Mac was trying to do, but the rest of him could see the deep-seated fear gripping his partner. From the thick warmth cutting a swathe down his back and the tingling numbness consuming his hands and feet, Mac knew that he was in a bad way. His vision was steadily dimming too – he could still make out Jack’s face, but he had to strain to see the slumped shapes of the men who had been trying to kill him.

He tried another breath, felt it hitch with pain, then tried again anyway. The agony was almost overwhelming, but it did help to ease the tightness pressing down on him ever so slightly. Jack offered him a weak smile at the effort.

“That’s it man, keep doing that. Riley’s getting us a medevac any moment now. You’re gonna be just fine. Just keep that up.”

His eyes were red, but Mac’s vision was too blurry to make out any tears. He could count the number of times he’d seen Jack look so worried on the fingers of one hand and every single one of them had been in moments when he was sure he’d failed in his mission to protect Mac. Feeling his breathing falter once again – this time with barely a twinge of the rapidly fading pain – Mac wished that he had enough air to apologise, loudly and for as long as Jack would let him.

He fought because Jack asked him to. He really did. It didn’t stop the darkness from sweeping over him all the same.

..

What came next was a series of flashes that Mac only half understood, foggy and indistinct as they were.

There was shouting and hands on him, blinding pain-

Sudden, bright sunlight, startling enough to bring him round with a faint gasp-

Electric lighting and the shuddering of a vehicle, masked faces he didn’t recognise hovering above him, the sharp whine of a siren-

Movement and more hands-

Fluorescent lighting and a heavy weight pressing down sharply on his chest-

Voices, loud and stern, as unfamiliar hands cut his shirt away and someone who might have been a nurse inserting an IV into his arm-

Exhausted and in more agony than he could remember feeling in his life, Mac didn’t even try to process them. It didn’t matter; in every single one of them, Jack was there to protect him.

..

When he properly woke, Mac found himself lying in what he instantly recognised as a hospital bed. There was the steady pulse of a heart monitor somewhere off to his right and he could feel where the exposed parts of his skin were rubbing against papery sheets. An air con unit was humming gently in the corner and further away, muffled by a closed door, he could hear the general rumble of voices and activity that never quieted in any medical centre. He’d worn more than enough oxygen masks in his life to recognise the gentle pressure on his face.

And, more telling than any of that, was the warmth wrapped around his left wrist.

He still felt thoroughly washed out with exhaustion but for the first time since everything had gone wrong he wasn’t in any pain and regardless, he wasn’t about to keep Jack waiting any longer.

He blinked tired eyes open and immediately looked to the person he knew would be waiting for him. An exhausted Jack stared back.

“You really awake this time?” He murmured quietly. His hand didn’t shift from where his index finger was resting against Mac’s pulse, even with the heart monitor loudly announcing his relative wellness.

Mac’s eyes drifted past him for a moment to take in the sight of a sleeping Riley curled up on a recliner in the corner, Jack’s jacket draped over her like a blanket. He focused back on his partner. “Hey,” he rasped.

Jack reached out with his free hand and a cup with a straw appeared in Mac’s eye line. He sipped at it carefully, then when there was no surge of nausea, took a long pull. Jack just watched him in silence.

As soon as his throat felt like it was willing to let him talk without slamming closed on him, he pulled back. “This time?” He asked quietly. Talking upset the oxygen mask, but he was vaguely aware of a firm weight on his right arm that could only be a cast and he wasn’t about to force Jack to let go of him, so there wasn’t a lot he could do.

Fortunately, Jack resolved the issue for him by carefully tucking it below his chin. The air flow tickled, but at least it wasn’t irritating his nose any more.

“You’ve been in and out for a while,” Jack answered. “Riley was starting to get worried.”

The bags beneath his eyes and the touch binding them together told a different story. “How long?” Mac asked, instead of calling him on it.

“Bit over a day. You were in surgery for a long time.”

Mac frowned at that, trying to assess himself through the thick cloud of painkillers. “Bad?”

Jack’s expression darkened, but his easy tone didn’t shift. “Your lung was punctured. Took them a while to get it back up and running. Lost a lot of blood too. Oh, and your collarbone and humerus are broken.” He paused, then added, “You’re going to be fine though. Long recovery, but nothing permanent.”

That… wasn’t great, but honestly it could have been worse. Still, that didn’t erase the haunted look still tucked away in Jack’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Mac said softly, twisting his left hand slightly so he could brush his fingers against Jack’s wrist before letting them fall limp once more.

“You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for.”

“It was my idea to split up.”

“We agreed it was the best way of getting what we needed.” Jack’s tone made it abundantly clear he no longer agreed with his past self’s opinion.

Mac hummed amiably. “I scared you.”

His Overwatch sighed heavily, his eyes sliding closed as he dipped his head forward, the weight he’d been shouldering since Mac had hit the ground suddenly very visible. “Yeah, kiddo. Yeah, you did.”

“Sorry,” he said again.

“Not your fault.”

“Still.”

Jack huffed a sound that might almost have been a laugh. “Just promise not to do it again?”

The best Mac could offer him was a quirk of his lips. “I’ll do my best.”

The hand wrapped around his wrist tightened carefully as Jack looked him over, seeking reassurance that Mac really was there, really was still warm and alive and breathing. Mac let him look without protest; he knew exactly how close it had been this time and he wasn’t about to begrudge Jack his coping methods.

“’M going to be okay Jack,” He murmured, feeling sleep tugging on him once more. Whatever painkillers they had him on, they were working absolute wonders.

Apparently aware that Mac had about a minute of consciousness left in him, Jack resettled the oxygen mask on his face and smoothed his hair back. “I know kid. I’m gonna be right here to make sure of it.”

#MacGyver #angus macgyver #jack dalton #hurt/comfort #whump of july 2021 #whump #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfic

[pastelsandpining]

The Greatest Gift (Freebie)

The twelfth and FINAL prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts​!! Thank you so much for all the support! Happy Holidays!

Prompt List

Words: 2917

Summary: Very fluffy. Link pops the question. Proposal fic. Can’t get any better than that folks

BotW Post Calamity Zelink

Zelink-mas 2020  l  Masterlist 

There were many words that could describe how it felt to have Zelda back by his side. He could call it wonderful, magical, amazing--just about every word in the book. None could fit better, however, than natural. Natural was how it felt when she’d appeared before him, glowing in a gold far richer than the ores beneath the surface could ever produce. Natural was how it felt when she smiled at him, striking his heart with an arrow of warmth he’d forgotten how to know. Natural was how it felt when he hugged her, holding onto her as if his life depended on it. And natural was how it felt to love her, like he’d done it a thousand times over and would do it a thousand times more. 

It felt natural to celebrate every little thing with her, whether it be her new haircut, or a holiday, or an advancement in the reconstruction of Hyrule. It felt natural to follow her back into the heart of the kingdom, where he would spend the rest of his days as her knight attendant because the thought of not being with her made him feel empty. Everything he did with her, even if it meant to just exist within her presence, felt so incredibly familiar and natural, and perhaps that was why they fell into a rhythm so quickly.

Perhaps that was why most nights, Link only fell asleep after Zelda did. He liked to see her curled up underneath the covers, tucked into his arms, with the peaceful expression of a sleeping goddess visible in the silver moonlight. Perhaps that was why he found every reason to accompany her wherever she went, so that he could see the way she lit up and smiled when things were working out. Perhaps that was why he took his job so seriously, even now, simply because he liked to be around her. 

Admittedly, it’d be problematic if he didn’t like to be around the very princess he was courting. That would never be an issue though, even in times like these, when she was trying to use him as a test subject for her new, trial-and-error elixirs.

“You know I trust you with my life,” he said, holding her wrists as gently as ever. “But I’m not putting that in my body.”

“I promise you’ll be okay,” she replied with a pout that almost swayed him. But Link stood his ground and shook his head, chuckling softly at her antics.

“You’re ridiculous, Zel.”

“I know what I’m doing, Link. I wouldn’t willingly feed you something that could harm you.”

“Uh huh. And what’s the elixir supposed to do?”

“Well, if all goes according to plan--which it should, it would boost the natural defense of a person against any sort of attack or condition.”

“You’re brilliant, but I’ll still have to pass.”

Zelda huffed, then uncapped the vial and brought it to her lips. Link was quick to snatch it from her hands and cap it again, shaking his head.

“Nope,” he said, “We’re not doing that either.”

“Then how are we supposed to know whether or not it’s effective?” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I’ll find you a volunteer,” he replied, which she knew was code for I’ll be your test subject later, and it was enough to satisfy her into smiling. “Can I make our dinner now?”

“It’s all yours, sir knight,” she answered, handing the slate over and lifting her hands up in defense. 

“Thank you, Princess.”

It was far from the first time he called her that, and it was a proper title anyone could use. But Zelda still smiled with a pink on her cheeks, and Link could do nothing but watch her. Watch the way crinkles formed by her eyes when she smiled, and the way her freckles became more prominent in the sun, and the way her golden hair bounced when she moved, and the way she furrowed her eyebrows whenever she was confused.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. She ducked her head and laughed, and he smiled in return.

“So you’ve said, many times,” Zelda replied, giving his arm a gentle shove.

“And I’ll keep saying it until the end of time. You’re divine, ethereal, gor-“

He was fairly certain the kiss was solely to stop him from talking, but he was happy to return it nevertheless. 

She tasted sweet, like the berries they’d eaten for a snack earlier in the afternoon, and if sunlight had a taste, he imagined it would also taste like her.

“If you don’t get to cooking, I’ll take the Slate back,” Zelda warned with a poke to his chest. 

“Alright, alright,” he replied with a laugh. He truly enjoyed cooking, but not even that could keep his mind off of the girl besides him, who was busy scribbling away in a journal. His thoughts always drifted to her. Her, and his love for her, and just how much they’d survived together. 

And without thinking about it—well, it’d been on his mind, but he didn’t think before speaking:

“Would you ever want to get married?”

“Yes,” Zelda replied, too quickly and too casually for him to think she’d really heard him. He looked over to her with furrowed eyebrows, but she was staring right back with wide eyes, like she couldn’t believe it either. It took Link a minute to find his voice. 

“Are you serious?” he asked in a voice just barely above a whisper.

“Are you?” she asked.

“Yes,” Link said with a nod, reaching for one of her hands. “Of course I am.”

“I— you do mean us, right? You would want to marry me?” 

“Yes. Without hesitation.”

“Is this..?” 

Link shook his head quickly.

“No! I mean, no, I just— I kind of want to.. plan something..? I mean, the princess of Hyrule deserves a grand proposal.”

Zelda’s cheeks were as red as a rose. He could imagine he looked very similar, with the way his heart was racing. 

“You better not,” she said with a smile. 

But he did. He spent the next few weeks planning a perfect proposal. It didn’t have to be a surprise, but he did want it to be special. Zelda was special, in so many different ways. She was so very special to him, and he wanted to convey that, but he was stumped. 

Link didn’t want to put her on the spot in front of their friends or a crowd of any sort. He didn’t want to pressure her with grand gestures or gifts, but what else could he do? 

He’d written and scratched out so many ideas. 

Should he bring her to the Sanctum and make it the place of a happy memory instead of what it had become? Should he take her on vacation to Hateno and ask in the privacy and comfort of his house? Should he be clever about it and slip the ring into a book, or a journal, or on a guardian piece? Should he have a friend help him?

He tried asking said friends on their opinions, but he had pretty limited options. Riju was a child, and she’d take pleasure in sending him straight to a Voe and You class that he did not want to participate in. Yunobo didn’t seem like the type to talk to anyone, much less do something as outgoing as propose. It didn’t feel right to ask Sidon, even if he would give good advice. His best bet was Teba and Kass, or any of the families he’d come to know in Hateno. 

Kass had suggested a song, but Link didn’t think he had a musical bone in his body outside of an appreciation for it. It would be a decent last resort, if anything. 

So the days came and went, and he remained clueless, but the ring, carefully crafted in Gerudo Desert with diamonds and sapphires and emeralds, stayed in his pockets. Just in case.

“Could you pass the sugar?” asked Zelda from beside him. Hylia’s Day had come around again and three years after their first celebration full of friends, they were spending the day in solitude. He was trying, key word, trying to help her bake a fruit cake. The kitchen staff were hesitant to let them, but he managed to convince them.

Link used it as an excuse to hug her from behind and place the sugar in front of her.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, but turned her head to kiss his cheek anyway. 

“Careful not to use too much,” he warned, giving her a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be too sweet.”

“If I can put up with you, then I think I can handle a little ‘too sweet’.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

Zelda snorted and dumped the measured sugar into the bowl. Link hid his grin in her shoulder. He loved the way she laughed, and the way her nose scrunched up when she did. 

“There. Now I can stir them all together, right?” she asked. 

“Clever girl,” he replied with a kiss into her shoulder. She threw some flour into his hair, and he shook it off all over her shirt.

“Oh, you just wait until this is in the oven.”

“Is that a threat, my princess?”

“Absolutely.”

Though she didn’t need help pouring the cake batter, Link set his hands over hers and did it anyway. It was nothing more than an excuse to touch her, but she clearly didn’t mind. 

“See? You’re a professional,” he said as he took the trays and slid them into the oven. She’d burned herself once, years ago, and he never let her touch it since. 

“I can give up the crown and turn the castle into a bakery instead,” she replied, leaning against the counter with crossed arms. He shut the oven and set his hands on either side of her, trapping her where she stood.

“We could be Hyrule’s most successful sweet shop. Specialty is fruit cake, made by and for the former princess herself.”

“Maybe we’ll just run a side business.”

“Ah, Princess and army general by day, bakers by night.”

“Exactly.”

Link laughed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Zelda brought her flour covered hands up and stuck them onto his cheeks. 

“Why do you insist on starting a food fight with me?” he asked with a sigh, before sticking his hand in flour and dragging a finger down her nose, leaving her with a flour streak of her own. 

“You’re cute when you’re covered in flour,” she replied before ducking out from under his arms and darting away from him. When he turned to grab her again, she tossed a handful of flour in his face. “See?”

“Princess of Hyrule, Daughter of Hylia, spends her day assaulting her escort with flour,” he said with a huff, then turned back to the counter to scoop up some flour of his own.

“Are you seriously pouting over it?” she asked. Now that she’d moved closer, he spun around and dropped the handful onto her head.

“You know me better than that,” he replied with a grin. Zelda let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a scream, and Link took the opportunity to make a mad dash across the kitchen and out of her reach.

Maybe they should’ve cleaned up the ingredients when they were done, because Zelda grabbed an egg and chucked it in his general direction. He ducked, then darted to one side of the table. She took the other and mirrored every move he made with a grin of her own.

“Your aim is getting better,” he teased, nodding towards the splatter of egg on the wall. “But I will again offer training-“

“If you hadn’t ducked, it would’ve hit you!” she defended.

“A lovely Hylia’s Day gift that would’ve been. Egged by my princess.”

“I think it’s fitting!”

“I got you an empty kitchen and a day to try whatever you want, and you egg me!” 

“Because you’re an egghead!”

“Unbelievable. She’s the Daughter of Wisdom and the best she can come up with is egghead.”

Zelda sputtered a response, then made a break for him. Instead of running in the opposite direction, like any sensible person, Link jumped clean over the table and waved with a smile.

“Ugh! Show off.”

“I could teach you,” he offered.

“I’m perfectly capable of jumping over a table on my own!”

“Prove it.”

Zelda glared at him, but it was filled with a playful love that made it hard to stop smiling. She pulled herself up onto the table with all the grace of a goddess blood princess, then scooted across it to meet him.

“Very impressive,” he teased, grabbing her by the waist to pull her close. She only rolled her eyes and stuck her fingers into his hair, effectively spreading more flour. 

“High praise coming from you,” she said. Link only hummed and tilted his head to meet her in a quick kiss. 

“Come on, let’s clean up a bit,” he replied as he scooped her up off of the table in a bridal hold, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Yeah, we probably should.” But she’d tilted her head up and was pressing kisses along his neck.

“Are you trying to distract me?” he asked, glancing towards her with a lifted eyebrow.

“Now why would I do that?” 

The warmth of her breath tickled his neck and, well, it was certainly working. He almost wanted to forget about cleaning their mess and instead give his full attention to Zelda, but his foot hit a pile of flour on the floor.

The wind was knocked out of him immediately upon impact with the floor, but no harm had come to Zelda, and that’s what mattered. He tried to laugh through the pain.

“Are you okay?!” she asked as she scrambled off of him and helped him sit up. He nodded, but she checked him over anyway. Only when he could breathe again did she relax, then burst into a fit of giggles. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m being bullied by the love of my life,” Link said with a hint of exasperation as he dropped onto his back. Zelda leaned over him with a smile as soft as a cloud. 

“Am I really?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair again.

“Of course,” he replied with a smile, lifting a hand to rest on her cheek. “You’re my sunshine.”

Zelda scoffed and shook her head, but Link took her free hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. Even covered in flour, she was absolutely divine. And she looked so happy that his heart could burst. He decided there was no moment he loved her more than when she was smiling at him, with a warmth in her eyes and a sweetness in her smile that was reserved only for him. He loved her most when she was happy. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face and the words from his mouth.

“I love you,” he said as he sat up, cupping her face with both hands. “So much. You are everything to me and I want to do all I can to make you happy, for the rest of our lives.”

“Link,” she replied, her voice choked full of emotion. 

“I want to marry you, Zelda.”

Even though they’d had this discussion before, there were tears building in her eyes. She looked like she didn’t know what to say, so Link took the opportunity to dig into his pocket and pull out the velvet box. And right there, on the floor of the castle kitchen, covered in flour, Link opened the lid and revealed the ring. Zelda burst into tears and, goddesses, when she nodded, he let out a watery laugh. She tackled him backwards, burying her face in his shoulder, and he hugged her close.

“I love you,” Zelda said, and repeated it probably a hundred times over. 

“I love you,” he answered, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Can we have fruitcake at our wedding?” she asked in a wobbly voice. Link laughed again and if he could hold her closer, he would’ve. 

“We can have whatever you want.”

And a few hours later, when the future queen and Hyrule’s army general stepped out of the (now clean) kitchen covered in flour, hand in hand and glowing with a happiness that suggested they’d seen Hylia herself, no one questioned it. But their engagement was no secret, because the ring on their princess’s finger had the castle staff whispering excitedly to one another mere minutes after the couple was gone. 

That very night, as Link watched Zelda fall asleep in his arms, he could swear he felt King Rhoam smiling down on them, and he thought he could hear Urbosa’s laughter echoing on the wind. 

They would celebrate tomorrow, he decided. For now, he would be grateful for how their solitary Hylia’s Day had gone. 

He must’ve been the luckiest man in the entire world. 

“I’ll take care of her,” Link whispered into the night air, a quiet promise to all those who cared about her. She didn’t need his protection, but goddesses, she’s all he could’ve ever wanted. 

To have the pleasure of falling in love with her over and over again, perhaps that was the greatest gift of all.

#zelink #botw zelink #post calamity zelink #zelink prompts #christmas prompts #zelink proposal #proposal fic #link in love is my favorite thing to write #in case you couldn't tell