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angelamajiki · 3 years

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PAIRINGS: Father! Yandere! Enji Todoroki x Daughter! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, soulmate AU, fluff, slight angst, nsfw, kissing, praise kink, virginity kink, size kink, bathroom sex

A BNHarem Collab!

AN: my longest piece to date! the prompt this month was sex work, so i decided to stretch the prompt and do sexual slavery. wanted to go for a softer version of daddy endeavor, so please enjoy <3

5.2k words

The mark on his wrist was one that was shared with yours. Enji had given up on finding his soulmate, deciding that his career and legacy were far more important than some silly marking on another’s body. Love was something he thought he could go without. But when he saw your bright eyes gaze up at him, your chubby hand wrapped around his index finger, his heart had fallen hard—such a sweet, gentle thing. No traces of fear, of disdain, of disgust for him as a human being. Just pure curiosity and unconditional love. His heart leaped for his little girl.

Enji was determined, then and there, that he would never fail you, not like he forgot the others.

Oh, what plans he had for you, his precious princess. He couldn’t wait to spoil you, to marry you and start a new family once you were old enough. Rei realized this as well. Her youngest daughter, her last hope at salvaging her broken family, was to be had by her husband. The thought frightened her, especially after seeing the adoring look in her husband's eyes when she saw him cradle you for the first time. It was so unlike the stoic nature he held for the other children when they were born, only caring to see that they were healthy before leaving off back to his agency, never giving them more than a fleeting touch. It was nothing like when he held you, snarling at any nurse who dared to take his soulmate from the grips of his arms.

Something that had Enji’s conviction more so than his career was something to be feared. Your mother swore to herself that she would not let her husband ruin you.

Once he fell asleep with you tucked in the crook of his arm, a social worker came and collected you to be sent to a foster home and be set up for adoption. It was better than falling into the hands of the monster of a husband.

After the death of Touya, the pair decided to have one more child in hopes of fixing their broken family, but Rei now knew it was for naught. Nothing could save them know, especially now that Enji had nearly burned the building down when he discovered that his little girl was gone, just hours after he had finally found you.

Rei alerted the commission as well for your protection, that utter bitch of a woman. They very well couldn't have the number two hero caught in an incestuous bond with his daughter, now could they. All information of your whereabouts was hidden from him, blacklisting him from working with any foster children, lest he loses his hero license. Enji may have lost you for the time being, but his patience grew as he did. They couldn't keep him from you forever. You'd be reunited one day; he knows it.

The first time he saw you again was when you were fifteen. It was your birthday and the day he had become the number one hero officially, plenty of reason to celebrate. Usually, he would have taken the time to sit near the rose bush he planted in your honor in his courtyard on your birthday, renewing his vows to find and love you to the best of his ability. Enji took great pride in keeping your memory alive with the bush for his beautiful little rose gone too soon from his grasp. But there you were, mere meters from him.

The foster home you stayed at took you out for dinner when he was meeting with Hawks after the billboard awards. Your eyes were unmistakable, a perfect cerulean just like his own. He was so close, yet so far. My, how you had grown since he saw you. Unlike him, you bore your mark proudly on your wrist, not ashamed to admit to the world who your soulmate was. Not like you actually knew who it was anyway.

Enji was prepared to leave Hawks at the table; a new flame lit under his ass, one far more exhilarating than the thought of being the number one hero. He was up and on his way to speak to you before Nomu attacked him. Damn villains, they'd pay for separating the two of you once again. But his conviction only grew stronger. It wasn’t hard to find you after that; he knew what city you were living in. Instincts lashed out at him, demanding that he go sweep you up and hide you away. No, no. That would make you frightened; he can't have that. He’ll watch from the sidelines, waiting until you were of age to make a move. He was curious to see just how life as a foster child was treating you.

Growing up in the foster system had been a nightmare from hell for you. A cursed child is what they saw you as when your skin sprouted flames every time it was touched by the human hand, burning everything and everyone who came in contact with it. From the moment your quirk manifested, you were an outcast, an untouchable, unlovable freak. Someone destined never to feel the touch of their new parents, their lover, their soulmate.

It wasn't long before you realized that you would remain in the foster system until you aged out. Who would adopt a child they couldn't hug when they cried, hold their hand when they crossed the street, snuggle up to when it was chilly outside? Any potential parent was taken aback by your quirk once you reached for the warm touch of mommy and daddy, only to singe their hand or burn a hole in their shirt.

You learned quickly that your touch was something to be feared, that you were something to be feared. You supposed that’s why you looked up to him so much. So much so that you thought about him late at night when the loneliness seemed to drown you in the sea of your insecurities.

Endeavor was the only one who could understand you, understand your quirk. If only your soulmate mark could match him, maybe you feel the warmth of another human being without hurting or mauling them with your power. Abrasive he may be with the media, but there something about him that was so comforting and endearing to you. In your eyes, he was simply misunderstood, a gentle giant amongst the mass personalities of the other pro heroes.

Watching his interviews brought you comfort when you were lonely, his merchandise made you swell with pride and confidence, and his posters on the wall reminded you that you were never alone. It was a silly crush, but it made you feel better about your miserable life.

You even got to see him on your birthday! Well, not exactly. You happened to be in the same restaurant when your foster parents took you out for your birthday. It was apparent that they just felt bad for you, having looked after you for 15 years only to still have custody of your sorry ass. You were almost certain that they were going to kick you to the curb the morning of your 18th birthday.

Too bad they never had the chance. That fate would have been much kinder than the reality you faced now.

Once the Paranormal Liberation Front had effectively ripped society up by the roots and let the tree of life rot for the world to see, your foster parents packed their shit and left the country while you were at school. You’d been alone in the world ever since and were snatched off the streets, ready to be sold into slavery by the villains of the world. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being bought like a bitch from the auction floor.

Enji, on the other hand, was more than eager to do just that. After his public smear campaign by his allegedly dead son, he was dead to the world, finally abandoning his family for good in hopes of finding his beloved daughter. His life was dedicated to searching for you, having managed to track you down through his vigilante work. He likes to lie to himself and say that he’s continuing to fight for the greater good, but Enji does it just to have the chance to see your sweet face again. There wasn’t much to go off of, but he’d rather see his fiery end than to give up. That's how he found you at the auction.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Another auction night was approaching, which meant another night of humiliation and being displayed like a slab of meat for a crowd of degenerate wolves. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being sold; no one wants a fucktoy they can’t touch. It reduced you to physical labor for your captors, but you were better fed because of it. That didn’t mean they still didn’t try to sell you.

After being stripped down into nothing but a collar, leash, and a muzzle, you were brought to the stage and shoved in front of the ravenous, roaring crowd. You could feel their stares seep into your bones, the grime from the floor on your bare feet only adding to the overwhelming sensation of disgust you couldn’t even begin to describe.

The crowd’s excitement was raucous, jeers and shouts echoing off the halls of the underground auditorium. Masks covered their faces for the sake of privacy lest a vigilante break-in and hunt them all down. Even in the lawlessness of the world, heroes were still crawling everywhere to trail after even the slightest scent of villainy. Doesn't mean they’ll win, but hey, the death of a hero is just the same as the auction was to them.

“Up next, a darling girl with a fiery quirk!”

That was your cue. A handler had a fierce grip on your leash, giving it a few tugs for good measure as the crowd laughed at your stumbling. The auctioneer began to list your qualities and physical attributes, including your quirk.

“And she’s a virgin!”

Added for good measure, the crowd fell silent after listening to the abilities of your quirk. You couldn't hate it anymore; it's what was keeping you from being someone’s onahole until the day you kicked the bucket.

“Can I get $10,000?”

Ah the starting bid. The silence was relieving. Just a few more moments and you'd be off that damn stage.

“No? Going once, going twice, going-”

“One million.”

A booming voice came from the back row, the depths of the shadows to further hide the masked man who just bought your life. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Outstanding! One million dollars for the young lady!”

“Going once.”

It couldn't be.

“Going twice.”

This can't be happening.

“Sold for one million!”

No!

You were supposed to be unwanted, just like you have been your entire life! Yet some mysteriously familiar man outbid the entire auction for little ol’ you.

“Off the stage, bitch.”

The handler snarled, yanking you off the stage and causing you the fall and bruise yourself in the process.

“Watch it!” He spat, picking you up by the roots of your hair. “The merchandise needs to be handled carefully before reaching the customer. Let's hope he doesn't mind some bumps and bruises. For your sake.”

“That won't be necessary; I'll be taking her as is. Immediately, if you will.”

The mysterious man stood had already made his way backstage and behind you, standing formidably over your stark form. Your hair was released, dropping you back to the floor.

“Excellent, sir! I’m more than happy to get this welp off my hands.”

A brief exchange was made while you recovered on the floor, shaking in fear as the situation weighed heavily on your already broken self. The handler took the money and returned to the back room, leaving the two of you alone together.

The stranger crouched down to you and extended a hand to brush the stray hair out of your face, touch remaining tender and gentle when you flinched harshly.

“My poor girl, what has the world done to you?”

His coat enveloped your body as he scooped you up in his arms. The scent of him comforted you more than you would have liked to admit. Teakwood and coffee grounds filled your senses as he held you flush against his chest, leaving the auction house with a renewed sense of vigor.

You were placed in the backseat of a car before he dressed you in simple pajamas.

“Rest. You deserve it.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

At some point in the car ride, you let yourself fall asleep only to wake up in a cozy king-size bed wrapped up in a soft blanket next to a warm fireplace. The false sense of comfort lulled you for a few moments before your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The anxiety you'd had known your whole life had finally kicked back into gear, forcing you out of bed and into the rest of the house.

It was daybreak, the sunlight slowly trickling in through heavily curtained windows as you walked through the halls and into the kitchen. The man was standing over the stove, sans mask, dressed in a wife-beater and his pajama bottoms. It couldn't be-

“Come in; breakfast will be on the table in a moment.”

Now you were certain.

“Who are you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you buy me at the auction?”

A deep, rumbling chuckle flowed from the man.

“I think you know the answer to that, little one.”

His focus was retained on the meal in front of him. “I’ll explain myself over breakfast. Now sit.”

You couldn't help but feel compelled to obey him. While sitting, you took the time to honestly look him over for the first time in your life. Never did you think you would be so close to your childhood crush in such a domestic setting.

He had noticeably greyed but still possessed a majority of his red hair. Muscles were still taught and budging, but he had grown a little bit of a belly. Endeavor was as handsome as ever, aged like a fine wine that you couldn't wait to sip on.

The food was placed in front of you as he took the test next to you.

“Eat and have some water. Then we’ll talk.”

Once again, you obeyed him without question and refrained from eating like a rabid animal. It wasn't even a question, so much so that it is evident that you hadn't had a decent meal in a long time. You were still muscular from the labor you did for your handlers, though.

And Enji liked that about you. How resilient you were, he loved that you inherited his strength but still possessed Rei’s gentle nature. Not that he wanted to credit that woman for anything, but he couldn't deny the obvious. You were his strong, beautiful little girl who had to endure so much because his bitch of a wife decided to separate you from him.

But he was here now, ready to give all his love and protection to his only love. It took everything in his power not to swoop you up from your seat and hold you in his arms until his last breath.

Enji watched you eat, pride swelling in his chest at the thought that you liked his cooking. He couldn't help but wonder what your favorite meals were as well. There's certainly all the time in the world to get to know his little girl now that he had you. And he was never going to let you go.

Your breakfast was devoured quickly, both out of desperation for a real meal and answers to your questions.

“Why did you buy me from the auction?”

It was a complicated question, but you wanted a simple answer.

“I’m your soulmate.” His wrist was on display as he reached across the table to hold your hand.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Your one, shining hope was meant to yours and he wanted to be yours. You didn't even question how he knew at all.

His touch was warm and slightly rough, but it was welcome all the same. Even though your skin was lit aflame at his flesh against your, he paid it no mind. He was built to take your quirk, to take you.

“Endeavor…”

“Please, call me Enji.” His thumb rubbed over the palm of your hand. “I’m sure you feel better after having something to eat.”

“Why don't you go take a bath? It’ll help you relax, I can take care of your dishes.”

It was strange how insistent he was on taking care of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy the attention. He seemed to care for you in a way that went beyond caring for a partner, or in your case, a soulmate. But who were you to judge? It wasn't like you had a lot of experiences to use as a comparison.

Making your way back to the bedroom, you took the time to study the house you were in. A traditional, well-kept home, it practically looked like it was untouched. And maybe it was; buildings and homes fully intact were hard to come by these days, let alone ones that were clean and warm.

Enji seemed to lull you into an instinctual sense of safety, even though he bought you out of slavery. Just because he was your soulmate didn't mean that he had good intentions for you, but somehow, his presence alone filled a void in your heart that you had forgotten was even there.

Once you made it to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, you drew yourself a bath just like Enji had instructed you to do. It wasn't the wisest decision to let your guard down like this, but the man already had plenty of opportunities to fuck you up by this point.

The water was warm and inviting when you sank yourself into it; you couldn't remember the last time you had warm water to clean yourself with. It made you feel light and hazy, slipping into a headspace you had long forgotten—a place of safety and comfort.

Three raps on the door pulled you from your haze as Enji entered the bathroom with fresh towels. Despite the fact that he had already seen you naked, the intimacy of the situation only left you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Let me help you.”

He kneeled next to you outside of the tub and pulled a lavender chamomile shampoo from the tub’s shelf. There was room to protest, but you couldn't find yourself willing to do so.

Water was poured over your head before he started a lather in your hair, gently scrubbing your scalp for a while. Even this simple touch made you shudder, it was a long time since you last felt the warmth of someone’s touch. And everything about this man was warm, for you at least. His words, his touch, his heart.

Conditioner was added to your hair as well before he moved onto washing your body. The scrub was gentle across your skin, his hand following after it to help keep the suds from rising too much. Strong hands massaged your back and your neck, both of which needed the much-deserved relief.

“So tense.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

There was a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as he massaged out all the knots and kinks that had built up over the years with your handlers. His touch should have made you flinch but you found yourself pressing into it. A small moan escaped your lips as he worked through a particularly tender spot on your neck.

“Are you enjoying this?”

His lips ghosted your ear as warm breath tickled your cheek and neck.

Your face flushed with a fiery warmth from a combination of the steam, your embarrassment, and the man whispering sweet nothings in your ear as his hands worked at your tired skin.

“Let me help you relax, sweet thing.”

Enji picked you up momentarily to slot himself behind you in the tub. Placed on his lap, you gasped when you could feel his erection hard against your back. Fear started to trickle into your veins as you squirmed slightly, attempting to get out of his grasp.

“Shhh, it's alright, you're okay.” His hand made its way to your throat and rested there gently, stroking over your artery with his thumb. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. Let me show you how much I've missed you.”

His touch made you feel alive, feel wanted for the first time in your life. You couldn't help but whine when his other hand made its way down your body, gently groping your breast as his lips were pressed to your ear.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”

His fingers toyed with your nipples, obviously skilled.

“Do you trust me to make the sweetest love to you?”

Another whine caught in your throat as his hand went further, cupping your sex in his much larger hand. He kneaded gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple when you writhed in his grip.

“Please! Enji-”

Shushing you gently, Enji’s thumb made its way to your clit to stroke in small circles.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

You were used to touching yourself, but oh God it never felt like this.

“Good!” You managed to choke out in a wanton moan. “So good! Enji, please, I need-”

A warm pair of lips sealed over yours, silencing you once again. Enji knew how wrong this was, to take advantage of you like this without revealing the truth. But he wanted at least to just once to have you in his arms willingly and eagerly. He wanted to kiss you breathless, listen to your cries and feel your nails dig into his skin as he gave you all of himself without a fight from you. He can worry about revealing himself to you later.

The rough pads of his large fingers started to apply pressure to your clit as his middle finger slipped into your tight hole under the water.

“Don't worry, little one. I'll give you what you need.”

Soft kisses were trailed along your cheek and hand that was on his that was still holding your throat tenderly. Finger pumping in and out of you, Enji whispered sweet praises to you as he felt your hole clench around him.

“Doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

Your breathy moans and whines only served to harden his cock. He felt like a teenager all over again, closing to cumming just from the sound of your voice.

Another finger slipped into your tight core, careful not to overwhelm you too fast. It was obvious you'd hadn't been touched before, not even by yourself. You felt full but greedy for more of his touch.

“Deeper, Enji! Please, can you?”

You were babbling at this point, writhing in his lap as he fingered you nice and slow with thick digits. Enji hummed as he pressed further into, curling his fingers into your G-spot.

Your cry was loud as he began to abuse your most sensitive spot, fully squirming in his arms as tears of pleasure breached your eyes. The sensation was too overpowering for you, making you thrash and arch in his arms.

“Shh, you're okay, sweetheart. You're okay; I'm right here.”

His fingers continued to stroke in a curled fashion, thumb still circling over your twitching clit. Enji kissed you again, deeper and more fierce as he began to fuck you earnestly with his fingers.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Squealing, you gripped his forearm and cried helplessly into his mouth. The build was slow and intense, allowing your orgasm to wash over you in waves of pleasure rather than a blinding, quick light.

“E-Enji!” You wailed. “Enji!”

You shook in his arms, holding onto the larger man for dear life as you experienced your first orgasm. It seemed like Enji knew your body better than you did.

No words were exchanged between the pair of you, but you could feel the tension of your desired hanging thick in the air. This man was going to take your virginity, here and now.

Enji removed his hand from your throat and between your legs in order to maneuver you to sit facing forward in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?”

His honesty made you flush even more. Biting your lip nervously, you hesitated to answer. Were you ready? It wasn’t like you had much of choice; the man could very well take you by force if he so chose to. But you felt safe in his arms, safe with him.

“Let me help you, my love.”

Warm, large hands gripped your backside as he held you steady above his cock. Your hand reached down to line yourself up with his throbbing sex, lowering yourself down on it slowly.

It burned in the best way, stretching you out fully as you pressed your forehead against his chin.

“Good girl, taking my cock so well, darling.”

A pitiful whine left your throat at the praise, hands gripping the forearms that held you in place.

“Can...Can you hold me?” You whimpered. “Please?”

Enji’s arms enveloped you and pulled you flush against his, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock. Your breath tickled his ears, making him groan lowly once he bottomed out inside of you.

“Such a sweet girl you are, taking all of me on your first try.”

Another whine responded for you as you ground your hips down on his.

“E-Enji.” You whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer. “Enji!”

“Be still, little one.” Hands back on your hips, holding you in place near the tip of his girthy length. “Let me take care of you.”

Hips in place, the man began to thrust up into you slowly, holding you tight as he stood up from the water. You only gripped and nuzzled yourself into him further, letting out sweet whines and whimpers into his ear while he thrust into you.

Your back was placed against the cool tile of the wall when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. Even in this position, he was still at least another head taller than you.

“Look at me when I make love to you.”

Through wet eyelashes, you gazed up at his eyes and let your mouth hang open as he rolled his hips into yours. His eyes shut briefly when he moaned, hissing at the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock so well.

“You were made to take my cock, little one.”

Arms reached up to wrap around his neck as he thrust into you, taking his time to make his strokes slow and deep. His hips were flush against yours when you asked him, “Kiss me, please? I want all of you Enji.”

Your bold proclamation stunned him for a moment before yielding, placing a deep kiss and a hot tongue against your lips.

His thrusts became faster as he kissed you with more passion and vitality. For an old man, he certainly had his stamina up to par. Your fingers thread through his red and grey tresses, tugging him closer to you gently as you moaned shamelessly into his mouth.

The pleasure in your core was more intense, fiercer this time around as his thrusts became hard and fast. The sounds of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiled bathroom walls as the both of you felt your orgasms coming.

“Enji, fuck!” You whined, beginning to squirt on his fast-paced cock. “I-I’m cumming; I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, princess.”

With a choked sob, you creamed yourself all over his cock, which continued to pound into your hole before he groaned your name and came deep inside you.

Nothing but the sounds of the water sloshing and your labored breathing could be heard as you both came down from your highs.

After a moment of rest, Enji pulled out and wrapped you in a towel before laying you gently on the bed. A towel was wrapped around his own waist as he looked at you fondly, brushing stray hairs out of your eye sight as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I must ask, how did you end up at the auction site?”

What a loaded question, but the intimacy you two shared allowed for it.

“I was kidnapped off the streets after my parents abandoned me when the prison break happened.”

He sighed gruffly and took your hand in his.

“What utter fools, tossing aside a beautiful rose such as yourself.”

His thumb traced over your soulmate mark. You still had yet to know how he knew before ever meeting you.

“It's alright; I never considered them my family. I just wish I could have met mine, but at least I met my soulmate.”

A crinkled smile adorned his face.

“You've done more than meet them.”

What could that have meant?

“I’m your father and your soulmate, little one.”

A rock hit the pit of your stomach as you retracted your hand from his.

“That isn't a funny joke, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” His hand was quick to snatch your back. “What could I possibly gain from lying to you?”

“P-Prove it.”

“Our soulmate marks, I saw yours the moment you were born in the Hosu hospital before my wife separated us all those years ago. I can recite your birthday if you'd like me to, for good measure.”

Fuck, he really wasn't lying. A lump formed in your throat as tears sprung in your eyes.

“Why would you do this to me?” You whispered, barely even able to hear yourself.

“Because I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. Ever since I saw you for the first time in the hospital, my entire life has changed because of you. All I ever wanted was you.”

Enji was quick to shush your cries, using his free hand to wipe your tears away.

“Will you forgive me for being selfish?”

The disgust and horror filled everyone of your senses, especially when you came to a realization that he was everything you've ever wanted.

What came out of your mouth next stunned the both of you.

“You can apologize by begging on your knees and cleaning me up with your tongue, Daddy.”

TAGLIST: @tomurasprincess @bonesoftheimpala @sightoru @cxnicalsweetheart

#yandere endeavor #yandere endeavor x reader #endeavor x reader #endeavor #enji todoroki x reader #yandere enji x reader #yandere enji todoroki #yandere enji todoroki x reader #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero x reader #yandere boku no hero academia

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theright-sideofme · 3 years

Text

Mate. C. San. [Part 1]

Werewolf!San x fem!reader WC: 3.7k Warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of past verbal abuse.let me know if i missed anything

series masterlist | main masterlist Next Part

As a child you were told stories about what lurked in the woods and why you were never to go in them alone. After all, “a young girl like you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself.” Those belittling words made you sick. You were very much capable of protecting yourself, you were just never allowed to. Your father made sure you stayed at home with your mother, learning how to become a “good wife” so he could wed you off as soon as possible. The old man was absolutely insufferable. Always commenting on how you were going to die alone if you kept up your stubborn antics, which only made you act up more. You didn’t want to be just someone's wife, you wanted to be your own person, with opinions that mattered and a voice that was heard, but that’s just not the life you were born into.

You remember the first time your father told you about the woods, it was around the same time you were beginning to realize your parents were utterly shit people. “Father, why can’t I go play in the woods?” “Those woods aren’t meant for little girls Y/n, it’s filled with all sorts of horrible monsters,” and that should’ve been enough to scare you, but it only intrigued you more. What type of monsters? What did they look like? Would they want to play with you? You were ready to bombard your father with all those questions, but the loud, whining howl cutting through the crisp morning air cut you off and had your father scrambling to get you inside. Ever since then you had felt drawn to the woods, a longing you felt in every fiber of you being. It was almost as if you were longing for a home you had never been to.

You sat outside, letting the sun warm skin as you leaned against the old oak tree in the garden, you felt at peace. This week had been hectic, lots of running around doing errands, getting ready for the arrival of a very well respected family. You were probably the least excited for their arrival, which was ironic seeing as you were probably going to be leaving with them. Their son had taken an interest in you at the king's annual Winter Ball and insisted that you be his wife. Even after turning him down on the spot, he was persistent. Eventually his father contacted yours and now they were on their way for a week of business talk regarding the arrangement of your soon to be engagement. You were sick, absolutely revolted at the thought of marrying this spoiled brat of a man who simply couldn’t take no for an answer.

Looking over to the woods, you sighed, wishing you could just run and just never stop. Run until you're so deep in the woods no one would ever be able to find you. What was really stopping you other than your father? Your own fears? No, it wasn’t that, you had more to fear at home than in the woods. The longer you thought about it, the more you realized nothing was holding you back other than the belief you couldn’t. Your entire life you were told you not to so you just believed you couldn’t, but in actuality there was nothing stoping you from standing up and walking right into the woods.

“Y/n!”--

-- Except your mothers shrieking scream of your names.

“Y/n where the hell are you! They’re going to be here any moment!” And your peace was broken. All thoughts of running off into the woods being pushed aside, deemed a silly escape fantasy as you stood up to go put your mothers worrying to rest.

“Where were you” Hongjoong asked, even though he already knew the answer. San had a bad habit of getting too close to town, almost being caught more times than the pack could count. But there was one manor in particular San loved visiting, the Y/l/n manor. A huge, beautiful house surrounded by acres of land that belonged to the most well respected family in the country. Hongjoong believed San had a death wish to be getting so close to a house that belonged to a family of that status. San’s excuse was he liked the thrill, which was partly true, but not the reason he visits said house almost everyday.

“Out” San shrugged his alpha off, walking right past him and into the kitchen. Hongjoong didn’t leave it at that, not this time. He was worried about San and what would happen to not only him but the rest of the pack if he got caught.

“You can’t keep going out there,” San scoffed, not even sparing Hongjoong a glance as he got himself some water. “I’m serious, you’re putting all of our lives in danger by going out there so often” “I know what I’m doing” “do you? Then enlighten me because I have no fucking clue why you would actively put your life at risk just to get a peak at that stupid house!” Hongjoong’s voiced boomed through the entire house, which caught the attention of the rest of their packmates who quickly came to the kitchen to see what was going on.

“You wouldn’t understand” San mumbled, feeling a bit more humbled after Hongjoong had used his alpha voice. Hongjoong very rarely used his alpha voice and when he did, it was terrifying. Everyone in the house could feel the fear in their bones when he did, along with an overwhelming urge to back off and obey their alpha. San was no different, feeling the immediate need to tuck tail and run after pissing Hongjoong off so much.

Hongjoong hated using his alpha voice. He never wanted any of his packmates to feel like he was ever unfairly using his alpha status against them, but he just couldn’t help it when it came to matters that involved the whole pack's safety. At first he was fine with letting San look around, sneak peaks at the town and the manor. He thought if he let him get all his curiosity out he would be fine and he wouldn’t need to go back again, but he was wrong. After his first time visiting the manor he immediately went back the next day, and the day after that and almost every day for the past three months, and Hongjoong was more than worried for what it meant for the pack if he was caught.

“Try me” the alpha offered, so angry but also so desperate to understand San’s apparent need to go back to the manor so often. He wanted to help out the younger boy while also keeping him safe. San averted his eyes to the ground as he took in a shaky breath. “I saw my mate.” His voice was so quiet anyone with normal hearing would’ve missed it, but in the house full of werewolves, everyone heard it.

Absolute chaos broke out among the pack, everyone shouting questions at San about how he knew and what it was like. Words jumbled up together as everyone fought to get their question answered and to understand what having a mate was like. They all knew they had mates, every werewolf did, but San was the first in the pack to actually meet- well, see, his. Hongjoong stood with an indecipherable look on his face that made San uneasy.

“I-I know it’s dangerous for me to keep going there so often. I’ll start going less! I just- I need to see her, it’s the best thing I have since I can’t be with her.” San felt his heart break at his own words. He’d never admitted that to himself out loud and hearing those words leave his lips made him want to crawl into a hole and die, but it was the truth. San knew there was no way he was going to be able to be with you, you were the daughter of a highly respected lord, and from what he heard from the servants today, you were soon to be engaged. It was a cruel joke fate had decided to play on him.

“What do you mean you can’t be with her'' Mingi asked from behind Hongjoong, him and the rest of the pack slowly making their way fully into the kitchen. “She’s lady Y/l’n, daughter of the highly respected Lord Y/l/n” San’s words left his lips with a certain type of sadness that made the rest of his pack members feel for him. They couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to find your mate and know you can’t be with them.

“San-” “please, no pity. I’ll be good, I promise” and despite his airy tone, the look in his eyes gave away how much he was really hurt. “Just, be careful when you go” was all Hongjoong said, not wanting to press him anymore.

It was another day of trying desperately to avoid every living soul who currently resided inside your families manor. You felt overwhelmed these past couple of days with everyone talking so warmly about the now settled engagement. Your father was more than happy to wed you off and your intolerable fiance just wouldn’t leave you alone. You could never find a moment alone, and moment to breath. But now, alone in your garden under your oak tree, you were calm. There was no one trying to remind you to keep up your perfect little image, no fiance rambling on about how excited he was to get you into bed on your wedding night, no father reminding you how lucky you were someone actually wanted to deal with you for once, it was just you and your tree.

Not too far away from you in the woods, unbeknownst to you, stood San. He kept an attentive eye on you, admiring you effortless beauty with total awe. There was a pang in his chest as he remembered his words from a few days prior, “- since I can’t be with her.” God it hurt. All he wanted was to hold you in his arms and protect you from everything evil and bad in this world. He wanted to shower you with affection and feel pride in his chest just from knowing you were all his, but you weren’t.

Almost as if you could feel his longing gaze on you, you looked up into the woods, head cocked to the side in thought. San was ready to duck down and hide, but then your eyes locked with his, and he was frozen, both of you were. You knew you should’ve been scared, you should’ve ran inside screaming for your guards, but you didn’t, you simply stared. You didn’t feel off put or uneasy by his presence, you almost felt comforted, as weird as it sounds.

San on the other hand was a total wreck, his heart beating out of his chest, sweat building up on the bone of his brow. He had no idea what to do, if he should do anything at all. And despite how scared he was of getting caught and potentially putting his whole pack at risk, he was happy to be able to see your face clearly. The calling of your name snapped both of you out of your little trances, San quickly ducking down, and you turning to see who was calling you. “There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you” you fiance said as he quickly made his way over to you. “Your mother wanted me to come get you for dinner” you simply nodded, pushing yourself up off the ground, not expecting your fiance to pull you up by your waist. The sudden action had San growling from behind his tree, watching the man with absolute hatred in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing” you asked, quickly pushing his hands off of you. “I was helping you up” “I don’t need your help” “Stop being so stubborn, we’re going to be married soon, you’re going to need to get used to me touching you” “touching me?” “Yes, last time I checked sex involves-” A loud smack echoed through the garden. He stood there for several moments, shocked, trying to assess if that really just happened. “Our engagement gives you no right to touch or talk to me however you so please, do I make myself clear.” Your fiance looked back at you with a darkness you’ve only ever seen from your father. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I am the man in this relationship. You are the woman. My women, my bitch-”

Your fiancé was cut off by a large, sandy wolf jumping in between the two of you. Startled you jumped back, your back now firmly against the tree as you watch the wolf snap and snarl at your fiancé.

You were more shocked than anything, looking at where the sandy colored wolf came from, realizing it was the same place you had just seen that man standing not too long ago. You quickly turned your head back to the wolf and stared in awe. It was huge, much larger than any house dog you had seen before.

Your fiance was soon calling out for the guards which promptly broke you out of your awestruck state. “You have to go, now!” You yelled at the wolf, gently tugging on its fur, which in any other case would’ve gotten your hand bit off. The sound of boots pounding against the floor started getting louder and you were getting more anxious. Not having time to think about why you wanted to save this wolf so badly, you quickly made your way in front of it and started pushing it back. “Go, now!”

San looked up at you, his the red fading from his vision as he stared at your face. However, he didn’t get to look long as the sound of boots soon reached his ears as well. Sparing you one last glance, he turned around and sprinted back into the woods.

“What is it, what happened my lord?” One of the guards asked as soon as they had reached the two of you. “W-Wolf! There was a wolf right there! It nearly tore me to shreds!” Your fiance began to ramble on, the longer he went on, the more the guards looked unsure of his words. “My lady, did you see the wolf?” “Of course she did, it was-” “no, I never saw a wolf.” Your fiance looked at you in total disbelief, but you remained with the same stoic face. The guards simply told our fiance there was nothing they could do since the wolf wasn’t there and led the two of you inside.

The entire diner your thoughts were full of that strange man, who you were certain turned into that wolf. It had to be him, there was no other explanation as to how that wolf got there that fast. Why was he there? Why did he protect you? Why did he make you feel so safe? Those questions lingered in your brain the entire night.

San thought it would be best to stay away for a while after the incident. He didn’t want to risk getting caught in case they were on high alert. So he stayed home, pacing in his room, running circles around the house, roughhousing with his pack mates, pretty much anything to keep him mind off you. It was harder than he thought, especially after being the closest he’s ever been to you, he longed to be that close again.

“San, you need to slow down-” “I’m fine” he responded in a short yell right before turning into his wolf form to go for a run. Seonghwa let out an exasperated sigh as he watched San disappear off into the trees that surrounded their house. “Is he gonna be okay” Wooyoung asked from behind Seonghwa, both of their eyes trained on where the sandy wolf just disappeared. “He’ll be fine” Seonghwa tried to reassure, but it was obvious that even he didn’t know.

You, however, were handling things differently. You had left your family's manor. Year after year you longed to leave and disappear into the woods and all it took was a strange man who you felt oddly connected to for you to actually do it. Why were you so drawn to this man? You didn’t know, all you knew was you needed to find him.

You were running as fast as you could to get as far as possible from your family’s manor. They were going to come looking for you, you knew that much. So the more distance you could put in between you and them the better. As you were running you could barely feel the burning in your lungs or ache of your legs, but rather the wind against your skin and the overwhelming feeling of being free.

You were free.

You weren’t tied down to your wretched family who only cared about selling you like cattle or the rules all of the entailed. No, not anymore. It was like the chains had broken and your cell door was left wide open, and you were free.

San felt different. He was more anxious than he had been the past couple of days, but in a good way. He had no idea what had changed or why he was feeling this way. He didn’t care. All he knew was if he didn’t get out his pent up energy he was going to explode. So out the door he went, ignoring the calls of his packmates and disappearing into the trees.

He ran and ran, enjoying the rush of the wind flowing freely through his fur as he let this light hearted feeling wash over him. He was so caught up in the feeling of running, he hadn't noticed his body had gone in auto pilot, leading him astray from his normal path and deeper into the woods to a place he had never been- a clearing.

There was a crystal blue lake shining like a glittering star in the moonlight. Lily pads were scattered across the smooth surface and flowers bloomed beautifully all around the edges. San hadn’t noticed any of it though. As soon as he entered the clearing his eyes were drawn to a figure sitting on the edge of the lake. And as if you sensed his presence, you looked up and smiled.

“Well hello there.” San’s heart swelled at the sound of your voice and he could’ve sworn his eyes were the personification literal of heart eyes. Your smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, it was warm and inviting and everything he imagined home would feel like. One half of him wanted to scold you for being out here alone where you could get hurt, the other half wanted to run up to you and nuzzle into your side and let you run your fingers through his fur. He opted for the unspoken third option, slowly approaching you, watching you closely for any fear or discomfort, but he saw none. You looked oddly calm for someone who was now face to face with a giant werewolf.

“Why do I feel so connected to you?” You mused aloud with a cocked head as you scanned his face before staring into his eyes. The raw curiosity in your eyes was something of mirrored pure innocence.

San couldn’t answer, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was in his wolf form and he would rather not shift back in front of you. He figured this would be a conversation better with clothes on. So instead of answering, he nudged you till you were next to his back and then lowered himself to the ground, urging you to get on, and you did.

When you reached San’s house, you didn’t feel uncomfortable or out of place. You felt oddly calm, and it was starting to annoy you with how okay you were when it came to anything relating to this strange man. You should be running for the hills, calling the guards and wanting nothing to do with him. San lowered himself enough so you could get off his back and led you to the front door.

“San! I swear to- oh.” The man who was just yelling froze and just stared at you in shock, all of his prior thoughts gone. San noticed how you moved closer to him when Seonghwa had come out, your hands subconsciously reaching out for him and he felt like his heart could burst.

San simply looked up at the elder boy who seemed to understand what San wanted from him.“Um, hi. I’m Seonghwa. Let me get you something to drink while San gets changed.” You looked at San who simply nudged you forward. “That would be nice, thank you.”

You and Seonghwa sat in the kitchen just talking. You thought there would be some sort of awkward silence between the two of you, but in all honesty he was very easy to get along with. He asked you about your family and never pushed you to answer when you were feeling uncomfortable. He even made you a sweet honey rose tea that you fell in love with.

The two of you didn’t talk long though because San had rushed to shift back and get dressed so he could talk to you. San all but bursted into the kitchen, his lovestruck eyes landing on you in an instant. “I- wow, hi.” You couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he was. “Hi.”

Seonghwa sat there for a moment longer, watching as his younger friend looked at you with absolute adoration and how you met his gaze back with a sweet, caring smile. He thought the two of you looked like little lovesick puppies and you barely knew each other. Shaking his head with a smile, he made his way out of the kitchen to give you two some privacy, patting San on the back as he left.

“So, I’m a werewolf” “nice to meet you werewolf” “I- what no! I’m San! My name is San. Sorry, I’m kinda nervous.” You let out a soft laugh, the sound putting all San’s nerves at ease. You stood up so that you were now in front of him, holding your hand out for him to take. “Nice to meet you San, I’m Y/n.”

—

taglist: @itsyaapollochild

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lala-ladybug · 3 years

Text

Healing Hands: Chapter 8

You brush your teeth. now BOOM orange juice. That’s life.

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Chapter 8: Adrien Elizabeth Agreste, we do not have "plenty of time"

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje First | Previous | Next

Marinette was tired. Sure, she didn’t have to be class president, worry about akumas, or study for the baccalauréat, but she was more tired than she’d ever been in Paris. She’d been running herself ragged with training day after day for weeks, waking up earlier and going to bed later than everyone else.

Even her Order was starting to worry about her.

“Hey Mari, let’s go shopping! I’ve heard there’s a really posh fabric district on level 8.” Chloe wheedled as Kagami poured them both a cup of morning tea. The blonde had a sharp look in her eye that meant it was more serious than just a shopping trip, but Marinette wouldn’t budge.

“Sorry Chlo, I want to level-grind so I can prep for tomorrow,” Marinette shrugged and grimaced at her friend. She hadn’t picked up a needle in months, chances were slim to none that she’d start now. And tomorrow was too important to skip training.

Adrien came in from the garden and traded glances with Chloe. He sat down next to Marinette and said softly, “You really don’t have to overwork yourself this much, you know.” He gestured to the four of them and Luka, who sat plucking at his lute. “We’re all here right alongside you, and we always will be.”

Marinette forced a smile. “I know,” she replied. And she did, really. But it was still so hard to let herself relax, even for a moment. She felt more burdened here than as Ladybug. At least back home all they had to do was wait for the next akuma attack. In here, every second not actively spent fighting in the dungeons or leveling up was another second lost in the real world. Another life lost, too.

The newspaper had daily progress updates and blurbs about quests, but every month it also put out a death toll. There were so many names. A good month only had a few dozen. Marinette always read them all, whispered their names to herself as a reminder to keep fighting.

“I should be heading out,” she gulped down her tea and rose from the table. Ignoring the worried faces of her friends, she packed a bag and shouldered a full quiver of arrows. She waved without turning to look behind her and left through the door to the stables.

The roan stallion, playfully named “Rouge” by Nino, had taken a liking to her, so that was the one she saddled up and mounted. They rode into town, where Marinette touched the teleportation obelisk and directed their destination to the thirteenth floor.

She shielded her eyes against the bright sun. The heat rolled off the clay buildings in shimmering waves, carrying with it the scent of spices from a nearby market. In the distance, she could see rolling hills of sand stretching on for miles. This floor was the highest that was open, but the dungeon wasn’t scheduled to be beaten until the next day.

Despite their best efforts to defeat each level by themselves, the Order quickly found that other guilds fought right alongside them. They were much more competent than the Parisians had given them credit for, for various reasons. The game cultivated a cutthroat culture where limited resources served as selfish motivations for players to do as they pleased. Some groups wanted to help, just like them. Others wouldn’t think twice about abandoning allies to save their own skins. Above all, no one wanted to be left behind, not after the fiasco of the first level. And of course, everyone wanted to go home.

When she wasn’t talking strategy with the other guilds, Marinette trained hard to increase her level. She was nearly at level 20, and wanted to be at her absolute best for the dungeon battle. She’d read in the paper that morning that there were scorpion monsters lurking out beyond the limits of the villages. They would be perfect practice.

She spurred Rouge onward down the stone road that wound through the dunes. They’d barely made it out of sight of the village before, sure enough, waist-high black scorpions started tailing them. Rouge tossed his head as he trotted along, sensing something was amiss.

Marinette nudged him into a gallop, which he gladly obliged to get as far away from the threat as possible. But a glance over her shoulder revealed that the monsters were doggedly following. Their pace sped up enough that she could hear the clacking from their many legs scraping over the stones of the road.

Twisting in the saddle, Marinette fired at their pursuers. Her archery skills were her favorite thing to practice. The ranged attacks and versatility were similar to her yo-yo, and moving targets only made it that much more of a challenge.

Her arrows hit their marks, and she didn’t have to turn her head to see the congratulatory loot windows popping up in front of her to confirm it.

More scorpions approached from the sides, which made it even easier to pick them off. Rouge seemed to be enjoying the exercise, never flagging as they bolted across the level. Fending off enemies left and right, dodging fast-paced obstacles, feeling the wind rushing in her hair....

It was the closest she had come to feeling like Ladybug since the game began.

She fell into a rhythm that allowed her mind to wander to Tikki. How was she holding up? Had she found another holder? She would probably need one.... The Order hadn’t talked about it, but they all knew that Hawkmoth likely wasn’t taking it easy on a city devastated by so many deaths and disappearances.

Marinette frowned and swallowed against the lump in her throat. All of the Miraculous holders were here and there was no one left to distribute new ones. She felt so stupidly careless to have left Paris completely undefended.

The next arrow that found its mark sank deeply enough to reward her with a level-up.

Eventually, they reached another village. They stopped for water and some lunch, then kept going onward. By the time the sun was setting, Marinette had reached level 20 and was well on her way to achieving level 21. She felt more ready now, the physical activity having calmed her nerves somewhat.

She and Rouge teleported back to the house just in time for Alix, Kim, and Max to serve dinner. Marinette raised a questioning eyebrow at Luka. She could’ve sworn they’d taken their turn to cook dinner just a few nights ago. Her friend just sighed and mouthed, “Lila.”

Ah, of course.

Lila did deign to come downstairs, allegedly from the girls’ bedroom where she had to take a nap because her vertigo was acting up. Which it only did when there was something she didn’t want to do.

Marinette was the first to serve herself. She piled some of the food from the kitchen onto her plate and took a seat next to Alya. Her best friend was chatting with Adrien and Max about the game plan for the boss fight tomorrow. Listening in to get the context for the conversation, Marinette took a bite of the potatoes.

It was bland.

Terribly, awfully bland.

She hid her face as politely as she could, then stood to retrieve spices from the cupboards in the kitchen. She applied them liberally to her own plate and then to the rest of the serving platters before anyone else could try them.

Upon rejoining her friends at the table, she heard Adrien and Kagami once again shut down Alya’s pleading to join them in the fight. Of their guild of classmates and friends, the Order comprised the only members they’d allowed to fight in the dungeons. Marinette knew her civilian friends were more than capable, hell she’d trusted many of them with a Miraculous at some point or another, but the chance of them getting hurt and dying in the game was too great to take risks.

“What if we just stayed with the support teams? I don’t want to get in anyone’s way, but if there’s something I can do to help I want to do it!” Alya protested.

Kagami shook her head sharply. “Absolutely not. Even the support teams have sustained damage in prior fights. You should leave it to us.”

Lila sat down smoothly on Alya’s other side. “What makes you five so much more competent? Everyone knows how clumsy Marinette is.” She waved a casual hand.

“Well, Kagami and I fence together, and....” Adrien started explaining but trailed off.

“Chloe has been bringing me and Luka to her self-defense classes back home,” Marinette blurted out. She internally cringed at the questioning looks Chloe and Luka gave her. “There’s so many akumas near us at home, we thought it might be a good idea.”

Oh Kwami, she hated lying to her friends. But she couldn’t put them in the line of fire. If something happened to one of them, she’d never be able to forgive herself.

Luckily, it seemed like they’d bought her half-truth.

“Really?” Lila raised her eyebrows.

Well, most of them had.

“I hope that’s really the reason and it’s not just because you guys are hoarding all the loot you get from beating the dungeons,” she sniffed, leaning forward slightly to look directly at Marinette.

Marinette’s stomach dropped. To even think that they could be so greedy and manipulative....

“Oh come on, there’s no way our friends would ever do something like that.” Alya gently put her arm around Marinette. “My bestie is our Everyday Ladybug, and I’m sure she’s going to do her best to help get us out of here.”

Nino and the others spoke up about their support for Marinette and her Order, but she tuned them out. As grateful as she was for her friend’s support, Marinette couldn’t help but feel even more overwhelmed. Being called their “Everyday Ladybug” only served as a reminder of how much they all depended on her.

She finished her meal and quietly thanked Alix and Max (Kim was busy arm-wrestling Adrien). While washing her dishes, she felt herself nodding off. Rouge still needed to be brushed after their long ride, so she shook herself awake and trudged to the stables to do that.

Luka and Chloe were waiting there for her, to her surprise. Luka was already working to brush Rouge’s coat, and Chloe wordlessly took Marinette by the shoulders and firmly guided her upstairs to their room.

“Hey, wh--” Marinette tried to ask before Chloe shooed her up to their loft beds.

Chloe followed her up and said, “You need to rest,” then began tucking her friend in.

Marinette made an effort to protest, but the quilted covers invited her to give in to her heavy eyelids. So she let her friend fuss over the sheets and straighten the duvet.

She hardly remembered whispering her thanks before falling asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Marinette woke from a dreamless sleep. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so long, or so well. She yawned and stretched with a groan, blinking blearily at the large circular window in front of her.

The window spanned nearly the height of the two stories in the girls’ room. It cast shafts of swirling dust, gilded in the morning sun, across the beds on the floor below. She and Chloe had thought at first that they’d drawn the short end of the stick when Lila had insisted they be the ones to take the loft (the extra climbing would be awful on her knees, you know how it is), but in her grogginess Marinette took a moment to appreciate it.

From her vantage point, she could see clearly out into the front of their yard. The hills of their spread-out neighborhood sloped downward to reveal the mountains in the distance beyond the limits of the main town.

As she watched, small songbirds flitted between the apple trees lining the path. She could hear their soft chirping in the distance, as well at the hum of the beehive that had been growing in their eaves.

Today was an important day, she knew that much, but why...?

Oh no.

A glance at the clock embedded in her player menu revealed that she’d overslept. She was late.

She threw the blankets off and quickly dressed, hopping in place to tug on her boots. She slid down the ladder and rounded the corner of the landing on the stairs, terrified she’d missed her team leaving to fight the boss.

Adrien’s bubbling laughter followed by Luka’s soft chuckle told her otherwise. She breathed a sigh of relief and slowed her pace down the rest of the stairs. Thank Kwami.

In the kitchen, Adrien was holding a yellow hairbrush high above Chloe’s reach while she pouted and jumped to try to grab it. Kagami shook her head while Luka snuck up behind them and plucked the brush out of Adrien’s hand.

Chloe huffed at Adrien when Luka handed it back to her. She began brushing out her already-perfect hair, chastising him. “You know this is my travel brush. I’ll need it for after the boss fight! Kwami knows how utterly ridiculous it will look after that.”

Kagami noticed Marinette's arrival and sidled up to her, hands clasped behind her back. “Can’t imagine why she was ever Queen Bee,” she said drily. Marinette put a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. Kagami’s practical sense of humor had only grown the longer her friends had “corrupted” her, as Adrien liked to claim.

“Melody!” Luka smiled warmly, greeting her with a wave. Adrien and Chloe stopped their play fighting to look at her. They crossed the room in an instant, Adrien’s hands placed lightly on her shoulders and Chloe grasping her hands. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Better than I have in a while, thank you Chlo,” Marinette smiled at her friends.

Adrien glanced over her head to check the clock in the kitchen. “We still have plenty of time, why don’t you have some breakfast.”

“Adrien Elizabeth Agreste, we do not have ‘plenty of time,’” Marinette retorted. “I’ll take some food to go.”

Lila, sitting with Alya on the couches nearby, gave them a questioning glance. Alya quickly explained, “His middle name obviously isn’t actually Elizabeth, but it’s way funnier to pretend that it is,” before hopping up to give Marinette a quick hug.

“Be safe,” she whispered into her hair, holding her tightly for a few seconds. Marinette gave her a tight-lipped smile as they parted, then caught the apple that Kagami tossed her.

They opted to leave the horses, in case some other players tried to steal them while they were busy with the boss fight. The five friends walked to the teleport kiosk in town.

Marinette felt tense and nervous, but couldn’t help relaxing in the presence of her carefree friends. They all joked and made horrible puns (thank you Adrien) the whole way to the thirteenth floor.

Surprisingly, they didn’t run into any other guilds along the winding, cobbled roads of the thirteenth floor. They must have already been gathered at the dungeon since they were approaching the designated meeting time. Marinette hoped they would wait.

The entrance was an ornately carved archway framing a spiral staircase. The steps led into the depths below the shifting dunes. There were lit sconces every so often, affixed to cavities in the curved walls. The steps were made of glass, but the overlapping flights of stairs didn’t clue them in to how deep the passage went.

A hot draft blew up and scattered the sand at their feet. With a glance to her team, Marinette led the way down.

Their boots had little grip on the glass steps, and they had to grip both walls to try to avoid falling. Adrien cracked one too many jokes about it being a “slippery situation” and earned himself a hearty slap on the back that sent him reaching the next landing a little sooner than he would’ve hoped.

Marinette only paid half-attention to their antics, devoting most of her brain power to going over the plan. Pamphlets in NPC shops said that this boss had ranged area attacks, which wouldn’t mean much until they saw what exactly it could do. She hoped that the extra upgrades she’d given to their armor would protect them from whatever projectiles that could possibly entail.

While her small squad would lead the assault, archers would back them up and hopefully be able to counteract the boss’s ranged attacks. Healers were on deck, of course, and there were plenty of defensive lines with shielding capabilities.

More and more guilds were joining the front lines as the people started to band together. Meetings were no longer the exclusive events they once were, and the plans of when and where to attack were placed in the paper. That meant they’d have some wild cards. Marinette frowned as she considered where they would fit in.

She sighed. Again, they probably wouldn’t know until they were in the thick of the fighting. A glance upward revealed that they could no longer see the daylight warping through the glass steps above them. It couldn’t be that much farther, though it was odd that the air around them was getting hotter, not colder, the farther they went.

Adrien cocked his head and he gestured for the others to quiet down. The five of them had retained some of the attributes lent to them by years of consistent miraculous use, and his hearing was better than most of theirs. They proceeded carefully.

Marinette began to hear it too, a low murmur that sounded like....

Players, dozens of them, were waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

They were scattered about the long, tall antechamber with golden walls that glimmered in the soft torchlight. Arches, like the one at the entrance far up above, supported the ceiling. Three-meter tall pillars displayed vases and other beautiful decor. There was an open doorway at the opposite end of the room, but they couldn’t see anything beyond it but darkness.

The gentle pressure of a hand at her back told her Adrien was standing by her side. She made eye contact with one of the other familiar guild leaders and made her way over to him and his team.

“Hey Danny, are we the last to arrive?” She greeted her American friend. He ran a hand through his cropped dark hair and his icy blue eyes met hers. “Hey Mari. Nah, we’re still waiting on Crimson Dragon.”

His raven-haired friend Sam shook her head. “They’re always late,” she muttered.

Next to her, their other friend (Tucker, if she recalled correctly) shrugged. “But you gotta admit, they always deliver!”

Marinette had to agree with him there. Thanks to the programming in the system, everyone in the game spoke and understood the same language. That meant that the Miracle Workers had wound up working with both Ghostbusters, Danny’s guild, and Crimson Dragon on several occasions even though they both spoke English as their native tongue. She had to admit she was impressed with how well they did. Unorthodox as they were....

“‘Sup party animals!?” A loud voice echoed down the stairwell. The whole room of players turned to look at the small figure sliding to a halt, boots squeaking against the floor. He tossed the hood of a bright red cloak back and threw up finger guns. “Miss me?”

Next to Marinette, Chloe scoffed in a way that said she most definitely did not. Jake was... quite the eccentric character. The rest of his guild, two very embarrassed-looking girls and a tall boy, descended the stairs as well to join their leader.

“About damn time!” Someone spoke up from the back. Jake’s head whipped around and his eyes flashed. Beside her, Danny winced at his hotheadedness. Before anything worse could happen, Marinette gave Luka a meaningful look.

He gave a sharp, loud whistle that drew everyone’s attention to them.

“Listen up people! We all know the plan. Is everyone ready?” Marinette raised her voice to reach the whole chamber. The atmosphere shifted to a laser focus, and she saw grim nods as people drew their weapons and potions.

A glance to Adrien confirmed that it was time. “Let’s go.”

She and her Order led everyone through the great doorway, and into the unknown.

The boss’s room was an enormous, golden circle lined with torches that flickered to life as soon as she stepped onto the glass floor. She could barely see the far wall of the round chamber. Levels of glass flooring circled up to the dome high above their heads, carved into the walls. A few alcoves dotted the walls, but other than that there was hardly any cover to be found, which was concerning.

A whispering noise thrummed through the chamber, made louder by the acoustics of the massive room. Marinette held up a hand to halt the movement of everyone behind her. She listened intently for the sound to happen again.

It didn’t take long, and it was getting louder now. She jerked her head to Adrien and Kagami, who started silently directing groups to assume their stations. While they moved, Marinette cast her eyes around the chamber. Where was the boss?

A loud hissing sound seemed to come from the floor, and then--

Shattered glass erupted from the floor at the center of the chamber. A colossal golden snake with red eyes reared up and bared its fangs at them. This had to be it. Marinette yelled, “Scatter!” and they all ran for it.

It struck right where she had been standing only moments before. Her boots slipped on the glass as she scrambled to gain purchase and hoist herself up onto the nearest alcove. She managed to do it just in time, the boss snapping at her heels.

She raised her shield and distantly heard Kagami shout for the archers to take aim and fire. A volley of arrows fell on the great beast, and Marinette twisted sideways and crouched to take cover under her shield. Loud hissing meant at least some of them had found their target, and to their credit only a few missed and bounced off of her shield.

“Hey, you big ugly worm! I bet you’re all hot air with nothing to show, huh?” Adrien was bravely doing what he did best. Distracting the villain so that Marinette could come up with a plan. She risked a peek from over her shield to watch the snake whip around to face Adrien, who stood a few levels up on the opposite side of the chamber.

It leaned backwards only to shoot forward a few feet, opening its mouth wide. Screams echoed from the people it faced. Oh Kwami, what was that?

Marinette bolted to her feet and raced up the sloping pathway, trying to get a better angle. She stopped and her eyes widened once she could finally see what was happening.

A cone of air coming from the maw of that thing shimmered with heat. She looked in horror to see that Adrien was shielding himself and the civilians around him as best he could, but those he couldn’t reach shouted in pain as their armor began to melt off. The glass around them started to sag and they screamed louder as the floor bent beneath them.

A blur of motion jumped onto the head of the snake from high above. That was Chloe’s signature move, and sure enough it was her. She landed hard enough to knock the boss’s head down to the ground, its body collapsing probably from sheer surprise.

Or maybe it needed a cooldown time? Shit, this wasn’t good. They knew nothing. They were underprepared and overwhelmed.

Mariniette coughed as sand fell from the faraway ceiling at the impact the beast had made when it fell. Below her, Chloe was hacking away at the monster’s face with her flail. It gave no warning before snatching its head back to knock her off her feet and coiling its tail around her. Marinette cried out wordlessly as her friend was trapped in a matter of moments.

She was still squirming when the monster bared its fangs and let loose another breath of boiling air directly onto her.

Marinette could only watch as Chloe's golden armor heated to a bright red and began to melt, her friend still squirming to get out. A desperate cry fell from the blonde’s lips as the hot metal touched her skin, and still the snake kept going.

She flashed a look to their party’s health bars and saw Chloe’s dropping fast. Too fast. Marinette grabbed a specialized arrow and drew back her bow. When she let it loose, the arrow exploded into goopy foam. She’d aimed perfectly, and the snake’s closed mouth was soon covered in the quickly hardening substance.

She pushed off from the wall and jumped. There was a moment when she was suspended in the air where time seemed to slow down. She saw the snake loosen its hold on Chloe and writhe in confusion. She heard the deafening cries from the wounded, and her name on Adrien’s lips. From the corner of her eye, a glint of metal flashed and she felt a split-second of coldness.

Then the moment was over, and she was tumbling onto the snake’s sinewy form and hoisting Chloe up. She half-carried her as she bounded away from the monster. She could see it shaking its head in her peripheral vision. But that wasn’t important right now.

Luka was waiting for her in the antechamber, out of the boss’s reach. He and several other healers already had potions at the ready. Marinette didn’t wait to see how many it would take to save her friend. She ignored Luka’s shouts and ran back into the monster’s room.

* * *

Well, Jason had finally convinced his stupid brothers to fight on the front lines. But the fact that they expected him to fight with them? Laughable.

When they made it to the dungeon, he had left them in the dust, or sand as it were. He was scouting up onto the higher levels of the paths that led up to the top of the dome when it happened.

Some girl was caught in the hold of the boss, a snake with apparently really fucking bad breath. He tensed as it blew a torrent of hot air right on her, but before anyone could move an arrow flew out and hit the beast smack in the mouth, releasing some foaming substance as it did.

Movement on his level caught his eye a few feet away. Jason stilled and observed as best he could without moving.

Some creep was wielding a metallic blowgun, aiming it dead ahead at the--

No, not at the boss. At the person who’d just fired the arrow, the person who had just jumped into the air and left themselves wide open.

He didn’t even think, he just tackled the sneaky bastard. In the commotion, they dropped the dart they’d been about to fire and it sank into their own leg.

As Jason watched, it didn’t take long for green tendrils to start appearing under the person’s skin. They clawed at their leg, but the movements grew weaker by the second.

And then they stilled.

Jason’s eyes widened as he watched them dissolve into pixels. As he watched his own name in the upper corner of his vision turn orange, indicating a player-kill.

Well shit. Dick was going to be pissed.

* * *

Marinette felt calm. Her hands had been shaking when she’d handed Chloe off to Luka, but now she felt nothing but a cool, calculating rage. As she stalked back into the chamber, she saw the boss struggling under another wave of arrows fired from all around the chamber.

A glance upward and a once-over of the pathways spiraling up the walls of the chamber confirmed all she needed to formulate a plan.

Marinette drew her knives and flicked her wrists. This monster was going to regret that. She broke into a sprint and slashed around the body of the snake. It was fast for its size, and it tried to keep up. But she was faster.

Arrows rained down around them, sticking out of chinks in the beast’s scales like some twisted sea urchin. The boss worked furiously to try to unstick its jaw, but as cracks appeared in the substance holding its mouth closed Marinette distracted it with a particularly deep slash.

It wasn’t ready, not yet.

“Get back to the antechamber!” She yelled to the other players. Most of them ran, but some-- Danny, Jake, her Order-- hesitated.

“Go!” She egged on the monster to move towards her, away from the door, giving everyone a chance to escape. “I have a plan.”

They reluctantly followed the others as they left her alone in the dungeon. Adrien paused, asking her, “My lady, I help with--”

“Go.” She growled, glaring at him as best she could while battling the serpent. He gritted his teeth and retreated with the others, but stayed within view of the battle.

Good. Now she could put her plan into action.

Marinette sheathed her knives and pulled out her bow, then dashed to the sloping walkway. The snake pursued, seemingly going after an easy target running scared.

When she’d nearly reached the carved alcove, she fired an arrow with a cord attached to it. The cord was a special elastic design that could retract but couldn’t be pulled to be any longer. It landed high above her and anchored itself into the wall with a distant click. Then came the tricky part.

Marinette turned toward the giant snake and ran at it. Its red eyes burned with rage and the cracks deepened in the hardened foam still leashing its mouth. Still holding onto the other end of that cord, she gave it a sharp tug that sent her flying through the air, far above where the monster had expected her to be.

The leap carried her to the opposite side of the circular walls. She neatly landed on the walkway about two stories up from the ground. The snake gave a muffled hiss of fury and set out on the bottommost level, steadily approaching her as it wound around the cavern.

Marinette let the cord go and started running.

She kept an eye on the monster, firing a regular arrow at it every now and then to keep it angry. That didn’t seem to be a problem. What would be a problem is if she timed everything wrong, or if the snake caught up to her, or if the ceiling wouldn’t--

No. There wasn’t time for doubt. She had faith in herself, and she could almost hear Tikki’s little voice cheering her on. She thought of Chloe and pressed on even harder.

The beast got close enough that she could smell the reek of it before she fired another corded arrow and launched herself across the chamber again. She gained even more height, and continued the climb to the top.

This only made the boss angrier, but she could tell that it sensed victory. There was nowhere left to go once she reached the top. Nowhere but down, that is.

A third corded arrow brought her to the uppermost levels, and then it was only a short run before she reached the edge of the dome. She was panting for breath and her legs were aching with the effort of so much running, but she wasn’t done yet.

One steadying breath in. Two.

The serpent had nearly reached her. Marinette could see it rounding the final curve that would bring it to her level. She drew her bow back and aimed it at its mouth, counting it out in her head.

She held until the beast was nearly upon her, then fired. The arrow was tipped in lead, and easily broke through the already-breaking foam. Immediately after, she fired an arrow directly above her. It hit the apex of the structure holding back all the sand above them.

The beast looked up at the mass of sand falling on it and opened its mouth to fire a hot stream of air.

Marinette didn’t stick around to see how it would play out. She fired one final corded arrow to the side where she could see an alcove in the wall. And there she stayed, facing the wall and shielding her face from the sand pouring into the chamber behind her.

Finally, the avalanche slowed and then stopped. Only then did she risk stepping away from the wall and peering down to see if her plan had worked.

The snake was laying on the floor of the chamber below her. Its form was contorted and broken, speared by great spikes of glass that it had created itself. As she watched, it faded into glowing dust, and a screen popped up in front of her displaying her cut of the loot.

She sighed with relief. Then raced back down as fast as she dared on the dusty glass, anxiety twisting in her gut. She had to see if Chloe was okay.

If something happened to her....

Her thoughts turned to the worst as she neared the bottom of the chamber, no matter how she tried to stay positive. Her hands were shaking when she finally made it to the glass floor and, carefully avoiding the glass spikes, picked her way over to the arch leading into the antechamber.

Adrien was waiting there for her. He embraced her and said, “Don’t scare me like that again,” then let her go to see Chloe.

Tears were brimming in her eyes as she saw her friend, still lying prone on the floor with her head on Luka’s lap. She looked up when Marinette came into her view and sat up with a wince.

“Well,” she said. “I made it.”

Marinette burst into sobs at that and collapsed by her friend’s side, hugging her tightly. She heard Luka softly telling her that Chloe had been at 1 HP, but all the healers put everything they could into bringing her health back up.

It only made her cry harder.

And as she held her friend close, she thought to herself how she would do anything to keep this from happening again. How she couldn’t stand to see her friends get hurt anymore. How she had handled the boss on her own.

There was no Maman and Papa, no Tikki, no Order that could help her. She was alone in this fight, and that was how it had to be.

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#healing hands #jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj fic #young justice #young justice fic #yj

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spideyanakin · 3 years

Text

Far From Home - Part 1

Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis; Coming from another reality yourself, what will happen when you see straight through the lies of the mysterious Quentin Beck.

Part of the dialogue inspired by @thekamiiiworld //idk if you’ve seen the disney hercules movie but there’s a scene where hercules meets meg and meg says “i’m a damsel, i’m in distress, i can handle it. have a nice day!” maybe spiderman finds the reader in a bad situation and she says those lines cuz she’s a badass? do whatever with the rest of the plot. thanks!

Series Masterlist 🍒

Normal Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

Your thoughts lingered to the day you had arrived in Peter's reality as you stared at the clouds from above. The memories slowly coming back up and you felt like the day you had failed your mission was happening all over again.

Your earth had been destroyed to pieces when a monster that thirsted for everything that lived had come from nowhere turning everything into bits.

You didn't even know how you managed to survive. You were holding on tight to your last piece of your lost family wishing that the storm ready to take you would go away and let you live. You used the last bit of strength inside your veins to create a dome of branches and vines, trying your best to protect the last survivors.

The last thing you remembered seeing on your earth was a skyscraper crashing. You watched from the small gaps in your dome of protection as it tumbled to the ground tears falling as you realized it was the end for you.

But suddenly some light sparks of orange came right near your face. The circle opened to reveal Kayland. You watched the familiar face and a smile had forced its way to your lips as hope lightened your chest seeing that a friendly face had survived.

"They've accepted." Was all he said before holding onto the portal, signing for the people who you had protected to jump through it.

You felt the tears about to come down more than they currently were. You sobbed as you felt the weight of dying coming off your shoulders, the few 20 people or so you were protecting slowly fading into a new reality.

"And they couldn't have earlier." You sobbed almost falling as you let go of using your powers, the branches shielding you from the chaos that rained slowly disappearing back into the ground.

"C'mon." Kayland took you in his arms as you limped your way to the portal, your body crashing to the floor in pain as you watched the fumes from the closing portal.

As the portal fully closed, the only thing you could feel from your new home in the universe was the hard wooden floor. You let out a large sob as you realized it meant the end of everything you had ever known.

You stayed on the floor, a voice was talking with the rest of the survivors but you seemed to completely block it out as all you could think of was how you failed to save your reality. The one that was currently crumbling to pieces by the hands of a mad creature.

"Y/n! Hey!" Peter snapped his fingers in front of your face, giving you a light smile as your eyes focused on him.

"Sorry." You shook your head swallowing hard as your eyes slowly reddened. "I got lost in my thoughts again." You rubbed your eyes slowly coming back to Peter, looking at him with your tight smile. Everything about that day seemed like a distant memory that was still fresh in your mind. Even tho it had been a while, and even more than a while for others. The traumas were still here and fully engraved in your memory.

"It's alright." Peter smiled as he placed a strand of hair behind your ear. "This year hasn't been the kindest to us." He chuckled trying to make you feel better as he held on tight to your hand. Placing his head on your shoulder as he heard your heartbeat quicken.

Peter knew how much those events had broken you. Fighting Thanos and losing most of your new friends barely above a year after you had lost your planet had pilled up in your mind, scaring you even more than you had been. The only thing that Peter thanked was the fact that you had blipped together.

"Yeah." You scrunched up your face in order to push away the tears that were fighting to fall. "I really need a break." You sighed flopping your head down onto the plane seat.

"I think you mean we" He chuckled "We finally are..." You opened your eyes and met with Peter's brown orbs smiling at the contact.

"Finally." You smiled before pecking his lips and bringing him into a warmful hug, glad you finally had some time to relax.

You closed your eyes and took in his scent, never thinking you could get tired of Peter's hugs.

"Peter?" You questioned opening your eyes just to look at him. "Could you tell me a story...?" You eyed everywhere but his eyes as you told him your peculiar request. "I want to sleep before we get to Venice... And I don't think I would be able to on my own." You played with the strings of his stolen hoodie that you were wearing a little ashamed of your request. You dodge his eyes as he stayed quiet, Peter thinking of how cute your question was.

A smile crept its way to Peter's lips as he watched your shy body fumbling around the cramped seat.

"Yes," He smiled. "But let's get comfortable so you can sleep first." He made grabby hands towards you as he took you into a new hug all your worries slipping away. You snuggled into his side, Peter placing his arm tight around you.

"Alright." He chuckled as a smile formed on your lips as you lightly pushed your body even more against his, sighing in content when you were settled in.

"A story," Peter clicked his tongue as he tried to think of something to tell you. "A long ago in a Galax-"

"And it better not be Star Wars related or im going to push you in a canal once we get there." You grumbled and felt Peter's body vibrate as he let out a puff of soft laughter.

"Alright. You got me..." He paused for a second wondering what he could possibly say next. "So." He smirked as the perfect story came to his mind. "Once Upon A Time, two soulmates from completely different earths met..." He went on and you let the sound of his voice guide you into peaceful sleep. "Some say it was yesterday, but someday it was years ago. " He lingered the words as he looked down to you, your closed eyes showing no sign of dislike to his story.

"It was a quiet night in the streets of New York," Peter recalled as the words that fell out of his mouth faded into images flashing in both your minds.

The streets of the stretched out city couldn't have been quieter. It was rare for Queens Peter told himself as he swung across the streets for his nightly patrol.

He eyed one cat who made a soft noise as he jumped on the ground, barely audible even for Peter. A soft meow rang through into into his ears as he jumped from a building to another, landing on the edge of an apartment complex.

Suddenly he heard a strong door, the sound making it seem as though it was built in strong bulletproof metal. It made a loud squeak and a large boom as it closed again, followed by the knocking of heels ringing on the pavement floor. He watched closely his sharp eyes scanning the figure that walked out.

A girl had come out, shivering as she made her way towards the bridge leading into Manhattan, pocketing her gloved hands before letting out a sharp breath, the cold air sending a new shiver down her spine.

Peter could have sworn her gloves were shining in four different colors before they disappeared into her empty pockets. Her large boots looked similar to Black Widow's but Peter didn't let that thought linger too much in his mind.

You sighed as you walked a little faster, feeling multiple pairs of eyes on you. The rhythm of your heeled boots made faster sounds as you felt the air around you change, feeling a presence a few meters away. You thought once again about what you had to do before snapping your head around, now facing a tall thin man, his long shoulder-length red hair waving in front of his face as he pushed you inside an empty alley, knocking you against a wall.

He pushed his large gun to your temple, leaving a non-permantent mark as he did. You felt the cold of the gun on you as he stared at you with a wicked smile, grinning as he pushed you even more into the wall.

"You think you can outsmart me? Freak." He spat in your face, pushing his elbow into your side.

"You underestimate me." You said focusing part of your energy on the bullet of the gun, placing a puff of stong air and a coat of unbreakable ice inside making the gun unusable.

"It was your little friend who I underestimated. Your nothing but a pray." He harshly whispered making you smile.

"Well, that's exactly what I mean. You underestima-" You pushed him with a blast of wind, dropping your coat on the floor revealing your jet black suit, bright neon lines of blue, white, red, and green darting through your shoulders down to the tip of your fingers. Your timing being at the same time as a flash of white darted across you sending the man against the wall.

You stayed baffled for a second as you turned your head towards who had knocked your target unconscious. You saw a man awkwardly standing in front of your, your mouth still wide open as though you were trying to catch flies.

"What did you just do?" You pointed to the knocked down guy you were desperate to get information from as you looked at the person all dressed in red.

"Aren't you... A- A damsel in distress?" Peter asked his voice a little wavy as he watched your pretty traits.

"I'm a damsel, I'm in distress, I can handle this. have a nice day!" You waved as you approached the guy glued to the wall, trying to reach for his pocket.

Peter watched you a little dumbfounded as you minded your own business.

You clicked a button near your neck sending a strick of neon colors flashing through your neck just to reach your eyes, a mask melting on around them, leaving the bottom of your face bare.

"Meg do you know anything about this white thing?" You asked your AI as you turned around the guy.

"Yes. These are web fluids used by a Super Hero called Spider-Man." An image of the man who was standing behind you popped into your eyes. "Would you like me to tell you about its chemical properties?"

"No that's alright. Ice or Heat if I want to break this?"

"Ice."

"Alright." You nodded Peter still watching you with a shocked expression on his face as you formed ice on every part of the webs, turning it so cold it snaped into million pieces, making the man fall to the floor.

You turned around and fumbled through his pockets, catching a few pieces of paper with your fingers.

"How did you do that?" Peter asked dumbfounded as he watched you scan the content of the pages, a content smile painted on your face.

"Well, how can you stick to walls and swing around town Spider-Man?" You asked looking up to the bright white eyes of his mask, who opened even more in surprise as he thought of something to say to you.

"Radioactive Spider-" He said barely above a whisper.

"Well, I was born with it." You let out a sarcastic smile; your smile making Peter blush under the bright red spandex that covered his face. "Now move it, Junior, I don't need your help. I got this." You shook your head and waved for him to move away. "Can you believe it? The man is dumb enough to have stolen the wrong pages." You chuckled mainly to your AI not expecting a response from the boy standing behind you.

"Hey, how do you know im not older than you?" Peter defended as you touched the man's hand, slowly making his body freeze.

"Because your not." You chuckled eyeing him before looking back to your target. "You're my age. Everything about you screams my age. Your voice, the way you stand, talk." You rolled your eyes as you slowly watched the men that was on the ground slowly turning blue. Peter looked at the men in panic as your face stayed neutral, a smile even forming on your lips.

"Don't worry." You chuckled. "He's just going to be frozen for a few years. Nothing to worry about." You smiled as you stood back up, Peter being frozen to his feet as he scanned your figure once again. "Now. You've seen me without my mask, and I know you have night vision and your AI probably films everything you see. So hear me out Spider-guy, if you see me in the streets don't talk to me I don't need trouble. Ok?"

Peter nodded hanging on to every word you spoke. You kept eye contact nodding towards Peter as a way to seal the deal. Once you were content with the situation you took a few steps back to grab your coat that was still scattered on the floor.

"Wait. Before you go can I at least get your name?" He wondered, liking the way you made him feel a little too much for him to let you slip away without a name.

"They call me Nymph." You smiled as you tied your coat, hiding your suit from the rest of the world

"Why aren't you with the Avengers Nymph. I mean look at what you can do!?" Peter raised his voice in amazement.

"I don't know..." You realized. "I don't think they know who I am." You frowned as you folded the pages that you held tight between your fingers. You delicately stuffed them in your pocket and clicked the little button on your neck, making the mask that hid your eyes fall back.

As Peter's eyes focused on yours a shiver tumbled down his spine making him blush as he took in every feature of your face, not even caring if he didn't know your real name.

"Well, Nymph. Im sure I could introduce you!" His high-pitched voice rang through your ears and a slight smile formed on your lips.

"You know the Avengers?"

-TagList-

#peter parker #peter #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland x y/n #spider man #spiderman x reader #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #spider man x reader #series #far from ome #spiderman #spider man far from home

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jeongyunhoed · 3 years

Photo

Past-Present-Future Black Dahlia

Two major tragedies bring Lee Mirae closer to the edge as she goes through the stages of grief in a more violent manner that would affect not only her relationships with her boyfriend Jeong Yunho and her half-brother Choi San, but also has her becoming closer with the immortal mutant Kang Yeosang. Fueled by rage, grief, and pain, along with a very rude awakening that has Mirae spiraling out of control and questioning everything she holds dear.

Group: ATEEZ Member: Yunho Pairing: Jeong Yunho / OC Genre: Action, adventure, angst, fantasy

Watch Out! : Violence, blood, death, grief and loss, major character deaths, use of weapons, some jealousy (but no cheating ofc), implied smut (not sure if there is any but i’m putting it out there nonetheless), mental illness (probably?), gambling and alcohol

Anything else? : Mentions of other idols of course as well as other characters. SuperM, Dean, Chanyeol, Zelo, soloist Park Jihoon to name a few.

Author’s Note: Ten plays devil’s advocate, more anger and rage from our main character. This chapter was originally supposed to go according to the plot I made, but considering what I typed out, I ended up ripping up the paper where I plotted chapters 5 and 6.

Listen to: Gimme Gimme - NCT 127

Masterlist

Chapter 5

It took Mirae seconds to process everything that Baekhyun was now saying. Baekhyun looked so satisfied, so pleased that his plans had succeeded. “I took everyone you love away, just as you took everyone that mattered to me away, in a way,” He said with a chuckle. “If you were wondering about Yeosang in there, it’s not like he would genuinely be there for you either. You’re really all alone.”

Her hands felt like clenching into fists. “Now you’ve succeeded. I am all alone. What else do you want to happen?” Mirae asked.

Baekhyun smiled and with a snap of his fingers, all the lanterns in the garden lit up, illuminating the otherwise dimly lit grounds. “You are right about that, Mirae. I have succeeded in making sure you lose everyone you love while making you feel guilty for not being able to save them. If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you were and still are the monster you are trying so hard not to be.”

“What the fuck do you want with me? Am I supposed to get down on my knees and grovel?” Mirae said through gritted teeth, anger rushing through her and she was trying her hardest not to snap this time.

It only made the male laugh. “No, of course not. But, seeing as I’ve made you suffer enough, I thought I’d give you a proposal. Ino knows about this of course. Project Apocalypse is more than just a think tank. It’s about time mutants embraced our superiority over everyone else. If living peacefully among them doesn’t cut it, taking control certainly does. If you join me, you not only give this venture added credibility, but you also give it the necessary firepower it needs in case of dissent.”

Mirae just stared at him, anger still boiling and bubbling inside her the more she listened to him. “Of course, if you don’t, it’s going to be very concerning what happens with Junhong, and possibly even the loved ones of Chanyeol and Hyuk, and maybe even your… brother? Choi San, isn’t that his name?” Baekhyun grinned. “I am aware that San heals, but that won’t stop me from trying. Besides, your immortal soulmate could still be killed, and it wouldn’t take me to do it.”

Baekhyun glanced at her, waiting for her to speak. “Don’t think I don’t know who else you are around, Mirae-”

Mirae had her hand on his throat, her eyes glowing red. Baekhyun coughed and gagged, his hands on her wrist. He noticed that her fingertips were glowing red as well. “You really dare to do that, don’t you? After all we’ve been through?” He coughed.

Mirae didn’t say anything and only squeezed his neck tighter and kicked him far into the deep end of the swimming pool. She turned around and walked back inside, seeing Taeyong and Mark already standing, while Yeosang remained seated along with Jongin. The glow in her eyes faded as she met their gazes. “Baekhyun’s in the pool,” Taeyong eyed Mark, both of them rushing out onto the garden.

“What happened? What did you do?” Yeosang turned to her. “Did you kill him?” He asked, Jongin looking horrified.

Mirae turned to the teleporter. “You helped Baekhyun in killing Hyuk and Chanyeol. Tell me why I shouldn’t return the favor? I remember you telling me before that you have sisters, and you have parents, and your nephew and niece…” She recalled, approaching Jongin, who was looking even more horrified.

Jongin stood up and disappeared in his place, appearing in another part of the room. Mirae’s eyes began to glow, making Yeosang get up from his seat. “Mirae, do you really want to do this?” He asked, glancing at Jongin, who kept teleporting in random spots in the room, while glancing out the window from time to time.

The dining table exploded, making Yeosang jump out of the way. The shelf containing porcelain dinnerware also exploded, some of the shards hitting Jongin before he could teleport again. The decor that hung on the walls were also charged and exploded, destroying almost the entire room.

“Mirae, I-” Jongin sputtered, his teleporting ability fluctuating when a shard of glass cut his leg and made him limp. “You have every right to hate me-” He choked when Mirae had her hand on his throat and kicked the shard in his leg further into him, making him yelp.

“I think I’ll track them down, after I’m done with you,” Mirae squeezed his throat tighter. “By your reaction, I think they know you’re alive and you’ve been seeing them often since that time.”

“Mirae, come on- You w-wouldn’t,” Jongin gagged, seeing Yeosang lock and close the doors. He tried to teleport again, but his energy was wavering.

Mirae looked down at the shard that was still exposed and it exploded, causing a big gaping wound into his leg. Jongin groaned in pain, eyes widening when he saw that her eyes no longer had the red glow, but were of a pitch black. Yeosang stared at her. “My dear, keep going.”

“Y-Yeosang, what are you-” Jongin looked over at the immortal incredulously, seeing Mark appear.

“I am impressed by how this is turning out, strangely,” Yeosang said, standing behind Mirae. He looked at her. “My dear Mirae, I must confess that this is a side of you that I frankly find so attractive.”

Baekhyun coughed and took out a pistol, only for it to explode in his hands when Mirae’s eyes glowed red again. She let go of Jongin, who collapsed to the floor, coughing and holding his leg that had a gaping wound. A beam of light came from Baekhyun’s hand, aiming towards her face only for her to duck. Baekhyun kicked through what was left of the dining table and tried to charge at her, only for her to kick him away. Mirae glanced at Taeyong and Mark, who looked especially alarmed, then looked up at the ceiling.

Yeosang, sensing what she was about to do, ran out of the mansion. Taeyong was quick to follow suit, trying to outrun Yeosang to the front doors. Mark pulled Baekhyun and ran towards Jongin, the three of them disappearing as the ceiling began to crumble down.

Boom.

San arrived at the floor where Junhong’s apartment was, seeing the rest of them including Yunho, sitting around and looking concerned and holding an ice pack over his head. He was concentrating, trying to hear Mirae’s thoughts to get an idea of where she might be. He was growing even more worried, while sending dagger looks towards the room that they knew was Ino’s.

“I know we’re all worried and wondering where Mirae might be right now, but the rest of you need to eat something,” Junhong broke the silence as he took out a large plate from the microwave that had a large burger with fries and a tall drink. “I’m testing out these bars I made that turn into meals. Perfect for missions.”

“Where’s Ino?” San asked, looking over at the meal on the plate and taking a fry. “Left again?”

“What else would he be doing? He’s not even bothering to duplicate himself right now,” Yunho grumbled.

“Who could it be, though? If Mirae is not the only one who survived the Seoul attack after all, there may be one or two of them,” Junhong pondered on the thought, taking out a plate of spaghetti that came from another bar he was testing with the microwave.

“Could those one or two people be the ones that were in here?” Hongjoong questioned. “If they were, then they must have been mad at you, at Mirae, at Chanyeol, at Hyuk or something.”

“Possibly. There goes the training room I spent months on building,” Junhong sighed.

Yunho got up and took the ice pack off his head. “I’m going to look for her.”

“Do you know where she is?” San asked.

“Yes and no,” Yunho sighed. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. If Mirae was alive, or conscious at the very least, he’d still be able to hear her, or at least read her memories. He opened his eyes, his expression turning into a crestfallen one. “Baekhyun and Jongin. I keep hearing those names from her. Baekhyun and Jongin.”

Junhong stared at him. “...Baekhyun and Jongin. The two of them survived.”

“There are others too, not just them, not just Yeosang,” Yunho closed his eyes again to concentrate. “Psychics, immortals, but she’s angry at those two because they were here.” He could see her memories of being taunted by Baekhyun when he revealed that he was behind the explosion. “Baekhyun and Jongin messed with the Danger Room.”

“...That’s impossible. They wouldn’t know how to tamper with the controls-” Junhong looked over at the door of Ino’s room. “Ino told them about it?”

“No, but Ino knew they were here. It’s all I could get from her now, it’s like she’s so far away-” Yunho opened his eyes again.

“Where could she be?” Hongjoong asked.

“I don’t know, it’s like she’s somewhere by a body of water or something.”

They heard the doorbell ring and all of them looked at each other. “Except for Mirae, all of us are here,” San looked back at the door.

Hongjoong sped past them, the blade from his sleeve already unsheathed as he looked into the monitor. “There’s no one outside,” He said. The doorbell rang again.

“...Yeosang?” Yunho and San exchanged looks as they stood up and Hongjoong opened the door.

In came the mutant himself, looking frazzled. “Thank heavens I looked in the right one, I went up to see if any one of you were there and I had the sense to be here,” He said.

Yunho’s expression fell and he immediately grabbed Yeosang by the collar. “Where did you take her?”

“Would you prefer me to answer or are you just going to kill me?” Yeosang replied, and Yunho could sense that he seemed just as concerned. When Yunho let go, he dusted himself off. “Well, I can see that the cadre of assassins is here.”

“Explain. Where is Mirae and what happened to her?” San asked.

Yeosang glanced at the rest of them, including Junhong. “Oh my, you have all been sitting around and waiting, aren’t you?”

“Well we don’t even know where she is and what we’re going to do so unless you can help us out by telling us where she is and what happened to her, we’ll take it from there,” Yunho replied.

“I took her to where she would find the answer to her question of who killed her two friends. There, she found the answer and there she unleashed her rage. It’s the first time I’ve seen her like this but I reckon it must be all the grief she is feeling,” Yeosang said quietly.

Wooyoung got up from the floor and a glance at Yeosang brought in flashes of visions of what happened. “She crumbled down a mansion, didn’t she?” He asked.

“Yes, yes she did. Two of them, her old colleagues in that center she used to work in, took the most beating,” Yeosang replied.

“You’re afraid of Mirae,” Wooyoung pointed out. “Your face might not show it, but I saw it. You ran out of that mansion while she was in there blowing it up.”

“Anyone with half a mind should be afraid, especially of someone like her,” Yeosang said.

“Well, we witnessed that when she lashed out at Ino the other day,” San said. “And fought Yunho and I off while she was out there in the streets wandering.”

“Where was the mansion?” Junhong asked.

“It’s a long drive north. You’ll know you’re near the boundary when you see burned down cars. Those were likely their bodyguards who were trying to keep us from going,” Yeosang explained.

“Then we go there,” Hongjoong nodded, making the rest of them stand up. “I’m not going to be surprised if we don’t see her there, but Wooyoung will be able to see where she will be next.”

“At the end of the burned down cars, there’s a thick fog ahead. Just move past it, you’ll get there,” Yeosang advised.

“Where are you going?” San raised a brow.

“I was informed by the two other mutants that were with us, Mark and Taeyong, about Project Apocalypse, a business venture that they were planning, while Mirae and Baekhyun were dueling in the garden of the house, I found out what that venture was all about,” Yeosang explained.

“Which is?” Junhong asked.

“Project Apocalypse is a think-tank, and they plan on exerting influence over political matters through that think-tank, to push their agenda,” Yeosang explained.

“Which is?” Yunho asked.

“Mutant supremacy. I must admit they drive a very hard bargain on that idea. Our mutant race taking over the country, governing non-mutants, all of the power and control goes to us of that persuasion,” Yeosang said.

“Nothing good will come from that,” San shook his head, realizing what it meant.

“It is what I was thinking as well. I will always stand for our kind over the rest, but if there is anything I have learned over the centuries, it’s that the ruling race may not always bring peace, and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” Yeosang nodded in agreement. “However, Mark thinks the opposite even if he’s lived as long as I have,” He muttered.

“Mirae would be looking for Baekhyun and Jongin, right?” Hongjoong chimed in. “And we’re looking for Mirae. We might have to change who we’re looking for. If we find those two, we’re bound to see her.”

The rest of them nodded. “Where could they be? Would you know where they’d go to next?” Seonghwa suddenly asked.

Yeosang nodded. “Unfortunately I do. The mansion Mirae blew up is owned by Taeyong and his brother Taemin, they will likely be at Baekhyun’s penthouse, in a metropolis not far from where the mansion is.”

“In that case, I’ll prepare the van with everything we’ll need,” Junhong took away the rest of the bars he was testing and went inside his room.

The rest of them did the same in their places. Hongjoong pushed back the blades hidden in his sleeves while Seonghwa filled his quiver with arrows and folded his bow. San unfolded his harpoon gun and loaded it with an arrow while Yunho picked up his holsters that had his sai. Mingi fitted the shurikens and axes he had on his belt while Wooyoung sheathed his katanas and Jongho fitted his pair of nunchaku in his holster belt.

A giant pile of rubble crumbled into dust as Mirae crawled out of the debris that came from the mansion. Her eyes were still glowing red as she dusted herself off upon getting to her feet. A lot of the debris and rubble landed on the lake below and she heard a hissing sound come from the waters.

They had disappeared. There was no sign of any of them. Of Taeyong, of Mark, of Baekhyun or Jongin, or even Yeosang. The white streak in her hair seemed to become more prominent, as if taking over another section of her hair. She kept replaying what Baekhyun told her. It was all him. He was responsible for the deaths of Jihoon, of Chanyeol, of Hyuk. The red glow in her eyes remained as Mirae felt nothing but anger. She wanted to know where they went, blinking a few times when she kept hearing someone’s thoughts. Yunho’s thoughts, wondering where she was. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!” She yelled, the nearby vehicles and sheds exploding.

She saw several people arrive at the scene, looking horrified at the sight of her in the midst of the ruins of the mansion. Mirae stared at them, the ground exploding in front of them, keeping them away. An armored van pulled up and out came a team of law enforcement all wearing tactical outfits. “Hands in the air!” One of them shouted.

Mirae stared at them and then at the armored car behind them, making it explode. “Hands in the air now! Freeze!” Another one yelled.

She stared at their weapons, making them explode one by one, the rest of the guards taking out their other weapons as backup. Mirae reached into her pocket and took out the deck of cards she had with her.

“You probably shouldn’t do that,” A suited young man suddenly appeared from a portal close to the road. The portal closed behind him.

“Why not?” The cards were charging in her hand.

“Because-” The male ran up to her. “Because these people are not worthy to see you showing the true extent of your powers.”

“Are you with them? The guys who owned this house?” Mirae asked him.

“I created this little world they lived in. This reality was created by me,” He said. “Call me Ten. You must be the soul-taker.”

The glow in her eyes faded and he saw tears fall down her eyes. Mirae fell to her knees, breaking into sobs as the cards she was holding crumbled into ashes. “They killed people I love. They killed them.”

Ten bent down to stroke her hair. “They did, didn’t they? And now you want revenge, your anger is driving you to kill them aren’t you?” He said calmly. “The people that betrayed you, the people you thought you trusted the most, who would never do anything, hurt you in the worst way possible, didn’t they?”

A portal appeared behind her, showing an abandoned boarding school, its grounds almost barren and bathed in gray, black and white, almost devoid of any color. Ten gently helped Mirae up to her feet. “Come, let me take you to my place, it’s not much to look at, but you will find a way for your revenge in there. I will help you,” he said.

Mirae looked over at the portal behind them, seeing a few glints of light in the distance. She reluctantly followed him inside, the portal closing behind them as they found themselves in the place where the boarding school was. “Where is this?” She asked quietly, wiping her soot and tear-stained cheeks with the sleeve of her jacket.

“This is in the same world I created. You can stay here if you want, no one can harm you and they will think twice before they think of doing it,” Ten muttered near her ear.

“Will I find Baekhyun and Jongin inside?” She glanced at him.

“Anyone you want to find is in there. Give them a piece of your mind, show them how much of a mistake it is to cross you,” A smirk crept up on his features as he led her towards the dark entrances.

With Junhong at the wheel and Yunho in the passenger’s seat, the rest of them seated themselves at the back inside the van, driving down the highway that Yeosang told them about. “It’s been a while since I was on a mission like this,” Junhong muttered as he drove.

Yunho’s expression fell. “Those two people also killed Jihoon. I can hear her thoughts. They killed Jihoon too.”

Junhong sighed. “Basically everyone who was there for her from the beginning.”

“Honestly, I don’t even know what to do, how to calm her down,” Yunho said quietly. “I mean, I know they hurt her, I know how hurt she is, losing people she loves, and to think before she ran away, we fought,” He looked down.

“The way I see it, we have to understand that none of us, no matter how long we’ve lived, has seen everything she has. I know you know that, Mirae probably told you that the first thing you two started arguing, and I’m no psychic,” Junhong said, sensing the teleporter nod. “I know they always tend to include us whenever the Seoul attack is brought up, but the thing is, she was there. She fought those goblins back into oblivion. Ino gave her the directive to blow up the Center.”

“The guys said that was how she looked when I died in her arms,” Yunho looked out the window.

“Perhaps. It’s another thing we have to understand. Mirae has lost a lot of things in her life. Her biological parents didn’t want her, so she was interned in that sanitarium. She thought she lost you during that mission you all told me about. When she had to fight her adoptive parents because of that cult, she had to kill them and witness Jihoon dying too. And now, she lost Chanyeol and Hyuk,” Junhong said quietly. “She’s probably losing hope. She’s probably afraid she might lose you again and San too in the midst of her rage.”

The rest of them overheard Junhong’s words. “Thinking about it, she brought us together again,” Hongjoong said, looking down. “Quite a few times too.”

“This is all Ino’s fault, really,” Jongho crossed his arms. “But what happens if we fail?”

“We’re not going to fail. It’s not an option,” Seonghwa shook his head profusely. “We can’t fail. We’ve got powers, we’re good enough.”

“As cliche as that might sound, I must agree with him,” Yeosang chimed in. “But are you all strong enough to go against the people that may have her right now in one way or another?”

“What kind of mutants are we dealing with?” San asked.

“Quite a few psychics. Jongin is a teleporter, Baekhyun controls light. Mark is immortal like me and only Yunho and I can kill him,” Yeosang revealed. “However, out of all of them, Taemin is the one you might want to watch out for. He can mimic your powers, you know. Ten too. He can send you into another dimension completely.”

“So we’re up against psychics, they can read our minds, that’s great,” Wooyoung grumbled, the katanas behind him hitting the wall of the van.

“They’ll know what we’re up to before we even do anything,” Mingi sighed. “We’re definitely screwed.”

“I may have the advantage on that. They won’t be able to read my mind,” San shook his head, looking determined. “But as for the rest of us, I don’t know.”

“Mirae seems to be the key to end this whole mess. She has exposed the faction of our race that is bent on power,” Yeosang mumbled as he sat back. “They have kept themselves hidden in the shadows long enough and they plan on making quite an entrance to the world.”

“You make it sound like they’re bringing on the apocalypse in their Project Apocalypse,” Hongjoong glanced at him.

“They can pull it off whichever way, it would be best not to underestimate them,” Yeosang pointed out.

Junhong slowed down when he saw the piles of burned down cars and piles of ash on the road. The asphalt was also littered with scorch marks. Yunho sat up upon seeing the damage that was done. The thick fog Yeosang mentioned was close by. Junhong and Yunho exchanged looks and nodded, the elder slowly pressing the gas to drive towards the fog. The fog seemed endless as he drove on. Yunho closed his eyes in the hopes of reaching out to Mirae again. All she seemed to think was that she was getting tired, and that she was bent on looking for Baekhyun and Jongin.

The fog was beginning to clear up, and they found themselves at the lakeside village. “We’re here,” Yeosang said, making all of them look out the window. “Junhong, drive towards the smoke coming from the cliff. That’s where the mansion is, or was.”

“I was going to do that,” Junhong muttered, side-eyeing the vampiric mutant as he drove on.

“This isn’t the north, is it? Please tell me we didn’t reach North Korea,” Mingi said.

“This is nowhere in North Korea. This is the place created by one of the people I just told you about,” Yeosang pointed out.

As Junhong pulled up in front of the burned down ruins of the mansion, Wooyoung transformed into his shadow form and slipped out of the van, slinking towards the ruins. Yunho tried to concentrate again to reach out to Mirae. After a moment, Wooyoung’s shadow form slipped back inside the van and he transformed back to normal. Yeosang cringed at the transformation. “Well? Any luck?” Hongjoong asked.

“Someone took her into this portal,” Wooyoung said. “That guy you were probably talking about. He brought her somewhere, like a building, a big building, almost like a private school.”

The rest of them glanced at Yeosang. “Where is that?”

“Ten has taken her to their headquarters. Possibly where they intend to carry out Project Apocalypse. He can be very...manipulative,” Yeosang said.

“So that’s where you go to sometimes? Hang out with those kinds of people?” Yunho raised a brow.

“They are like me, and they were already there before the rest of you got your powers,” Yeosang replied. “However, I must reveal that this is where your so-called wise figure has probably been going.”

“Ino,” San mumbled. “So there’s a chance we might fight Ino hyung too, huh.”

“We’re definitely screwed,” Wooyoung frowned.

12 notes · View notes

thatpinkbetch · 4 years

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Bkdk Fic Rec

I’ve been inspired to write a fic rec! This one goes out to you @lonely-rabbit

At like, the end of 2018 and the beginning of 2019 I stayed up until 4am every night reading fics, and because I’m such a loser, I made a word doc to keep track of all of them so I wouldn’t forget them.... I tried organizing it by length but it got messy cause I’m ridiculous and cluttered, so sorry! (I’ll save my own for the end alskdjflsdkfj gotta self promote you know). This is going to get...really long, so I’ll put it under a read more! Also, just a heads up, these are all on ao3, in case that’s important to anyone!

Disclaimer: Any fics with mature or explicit content I will add a bolded warning for, even if it’s only a little bit. Normally most fics will be tagged as such, but some fics that are rated as teen I’ve found to be more suggestive than some of those rated as mature, so I will try to point it out where it feels necessary, for anyone who wishes to avoid it.

Fics under 1k:

Illuminate by TheQueen (269 words)

Summary: Bakugou watches the first firework launch and fights to keep his face neutral

Very short, plot is about a case of amnesia, also very cute and well written for that length! Not angsty at all imo

sweaty hands holding secrets - shounentwink (563 words)

Summary: Someone said Midoriya holds secrets in his hair.

It’s not true: He holds it tightly in his hands. Bakugou’s seen it.

I really like this writer! You’ll see quite a bit of them in this post alkdsjfalskdjf

Fics 1k - 10k:

Many sunflowers later - Jeka (2395 words)

Summary: Scholar Midoriya Izuku comes back to the person he left behind after his journey through the kingdom, the mighty dragon clan leader Bakugou Katsuki.

Day 1 of Twin Stars Week 2020: Fantasy AU.

First of all, fantasy au!!! Second of all, jeka!!! (I need to read more of your stuff!!) Anyways, so cute, such lovely, pretty writing, wonderful story telling, and they’re so in love TT_TT

Boom Badoom Boom - warschach (3429 words)

Summary: Izuku's working the kissing booth at the school fair, it just so happens Katsuki has been crushing on him since the first grade.

“Did you—“ Izuku parted his mouth with no sound leaving it, “Did you pay?”

“Yea.”

“For a kiss?”

This one’s a little silly but I love it still. It’s got a “kids in the 80′s over summer vacation” vibe, I think. I love warschach! I should read more of their writing... They have SUCH good bakudeku content! *It’s rated teen but there’s some suggestive content, just a heads up!

Hopeless Ramen-tic - lalazee (7155 words)

Summary: Midoriya is a cute guy who works at a ramen stall and Bakugou is thirsty as hell, but has to hide it by being an asshat. Another love story.

Ah, so good TT_TT so much sass, such good plot development and story telling for a simple concept *It’s rated as teen but again, it can be suggestive at times!

I’ll share this with you, so leave it behind - yabakuboi (3508 words)

Suammry: For the sake of the story, All Might is never in need of a successor, and, when Izuku saves Katsuki from the sludge monster, encourages young Midoriya down a different path. Thus, Katsuki and Izuku part ways after junior high, as Katsuki enters U.A. and the Midoriyas move overseas. It’s later that Katsuki realizes that there’s something missing, that he drove that something away.

Years after, Katsuki finds him in the last place he looks, in the cereal aisle at the local grocery store of their childhood neighborhood.

So soft, so sweet, so good if you just want to curl up in a comfy blanket and drink hot cocoa and feel warm and cozy and a little in love

The Secret Deku Box - yabakuboi (2241 words)

Summary: “Y’know, Bakugou never, ever talks about girls,” Kaminari says, his voice thoughtful.

“And I wonder why that is.” Ashido rolls her eyes.

“I’m just curious!” Kaminari whines. Kirishima drags the box out, unlabeled and unassuming, the lid not even fully clasped over the edges. “The guy has to— Whoa, what’s that?”

Kirishima realizes a little belatedly that this is a serious breach of privacy, and Bakugou will actually murder all of them. “Nothing!” he cries, attempting to shove it back under the bed, but Ashido snatches it away.

“Please be his porn stash!” Kaminari whispers as she whips the lid off.

Cute, funny, in canon, in character, and a must read I would say!

daisy bunches and heather branches - halcyonwhispers (5862 words)

Summary: izuku falls in love with the foul-mouthed tattoo artist next door.

Not another flower/tattoo shop au.... aldskjflaskdjfd Okay but punk!Bakugou is ALWAYS a smart move imo

the best part of me (is the worst I can give) - halcyonwhispers (5668)

Summary: Whole sentences usually make up people’s Words, but Katsuki got stuck with a name instead.

Izuku’s name.

I am such a sucker for soulmate aus when it comes to these boys TT_TT *There is some mature content, just a heads up!

Hard to Say - halcyonwhispers (8390 words)

Summary: Izuku is a Halfling, born after his faerie father spirited away his mom and then left her behind. Never quite fitting in with the humans or any of the supernatural beings in his small town, Izuku hoped that going to a diverse college in the big city will help him finally make friends.

Katsuki’s family has been powerful witches for generations, and he’s no different. Talented and a proclaimed genius to boot, he knew he shouldn’t waste his time on this dumbass (disgustingly cute) half-blood.

Or,

two idiots fall in love and don’t get that the other’s awkward cues are just a result of romantic tension.

I am ALSO a sucker for fantasy/mythical creatures au and I LOVED this one - Bakugou absolutely unable to handle how cute Midoriya is? Perfection - but it’s unfinished, and I don’t think it ever will be continued, unfortunately TT_TT

lots to unpack (throw away the whole suitcase) - shounentwink (4315 words)

Summary: “How’d you know?” Midoriya asks.

There’s a hunch to his shoulders that wasn’t there three hours ago. Freckled shoulders are kissed sunburnt and red: he looks like someone ran him over and left him like roadkill in the sunlight. Bakugou’s working with insurance today, but he could see the sparks of green lightning even from his elevated position in their shared agency. Midoriya’s holding his thumb, cracking it over and over — it looks like he’s rubbed it raw.

“Dunno,” Bakugou says. “Maybe you’re just easy to read, nerd.”

I love this one so much, it was one of the first ones I read, it’s so good, and it’s another that really affected how I view their relationship! Idk this one just hit for me

hang the moon from us (it’s a no from me) - shounentwink (1200 words)

Summary: Midoriya’s gonna get sick of Bakugou one of these days, and then the whole ruse will be over, and the balance of power will tilt beyond salvation, but that day isn’t today and it looks like Bakugou knows it.

What an asshole.

Once again, I’m a sucker for the fantasy au... But even more, the diction, the details, the imagery...it’s absolutely all stunning here. I wish I could write this pretty

In Which Bakugou Finds His One Tru Luv - Erina (5862 words) This is the first one of a series called The Misadventures of Explodo-kill Agency!

Summary: Welcome to the Explodo-kill agency! We can destroy your buildings, crash your cars, and help you solve one of the seven mysteries in life: who is Bakugou Katsuki's mysterious boyfriend?!

I’ll admit I’ve only read the first three but by god they are the funniest fics I’ve ever read in my life. I see that Erina has added more since the last time I checked it out! Tbh I was only interested in reading the purely bakudeku ones... (My favorite was the second one!! SO funny and cute!)

i still do - raeryn (9646 words)

Summary: He’s losing him to pieces, but Izuku still tries to make them count. In which a battle leaves Bakugou Katsuki with amnesia, and Izuku finds himself picking up the pieces.

So, this one makes me cry. TT_TT

One Thing Straight - winningshot (9899 words)

Summary: They totally aren't.

Hints of their relationship is found in all of their friends’ social media accounts, but majority of their fans still think that Katsuki and Izuku are in relationships with anybody but each other.

It was amusing up until it became sad.

Lmao it’s a little salty but I guess I can be too. This is a social media fic! There’s multiple ships in this one, too

A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF - kewltie (8472 words)

Summary: Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

Okay kewltie is SO GOOD and very creative! The formatting is phenomenal, it’s like you’re actually experiencing a social media melt down in real time lol

be my good luck charm - writedeku (6785 words)

Summary: See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.

(Or the AU in which Izuku's the world's unluckiest travelling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)

Oh I adore this one! It’s so cute and such a good narrative! Nice and warm, and Bakugou trying his damnedest to be suave, and it somehow working because Midoriya is just as flustered. *Another one rated as teen but some suggestive content.

Smells Like Victory - majjale (2377 words)

Summary: Bakugou takes two steps into the room and stops, clapping a hand over his nose. “Ugh, what stinks like Deku in here?”

"Good afternoon, Bakugou. That would be the amortentia."

I must admit, not a fan of HP, but majjale...TT_TT majjale writes these two boys so well. This one is really, really good!

Cherish Me - Justaperson1718 (2376 words)

Summary: “What?”

Izuku looked back down at his menu and flipped the page, a small smile on his face. “Nothing.”

Katsuki glared at Izuku from across the table. “If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be staring at me.”

“It’s just a little funny watching you try to look your best for our date when you always look great anyway,” Izuku explained. He wouldn’t look up from his menu while he spoke, but his words remained ingrained with confidence nevertheless. He considered what he was saying to be fact, and nothing else. “Even when you’re not trying in front of the cameras, it’s still hard to take my eyes off of you.”

This is a sequel to a fic that’ll be in the next section, because it’s longer, called Manage Me. Please read that one first before this one! (Not part of a series, but they’re the same story line)

Fascinating - Justaperson1718 (1556 words)

Summary: “I’m not staring at you,” Izuku replied, his eyes focused intently on Katsuki. He’s still wearing his pajamas, sitting on his knees in their shared bed. He was awake moments before Katsuki, and waited eagerly for the other to awake.

Katsuki glanced over his shoulder after his shirt was on and glared. “You’re fucking staring at me right now.”

Izuku shook his head, humming his disapproval quietly. “I’m watching you.”

“That’s the same damn thing,” Katsuki said while searching for a pair of pants in the dresser. “Your eyes are fixated on me like I’m your life’s fucking goal or some shit.”

“I just like watching you get dressed.” Izuku tilted his head to the side and smiled softly at Katsuki’s confused stare. “I know, it’s weird. But I like it.”

*There is a little bit of implied mature content, but overall, it’s just so sweet and intimate, and I just simply adore this one.

in a place once filled with gold - dorenamryn (9226 words)

Summary: It felt strange to remember such details, for they were things a friend should know, and as far as Katsuki was concerned, he and Deku hadn’t been friends in a very, very long time. He could admit, with reluctance, that they were on the path there, now, even though they would never make it. Katsuki would die before they could get the chance.

or: There is a garden growing in Katsuki’s lungs, and he is helpless to stop it.

“Hanahaki disease” okay, I can explain myself. Okay, I can’t. In any case, you got angst with a happy ending if that’s what you’re into!

Kaleidoscope - DPRenFTW (5141 words)

Summary: Izuku is a witch. He just needs to find his familiar. Enter a boy that is a wolf, and a wolf that is a boy - with wild red eyes and sharp smiles.

And Izuku thinks:

"Oh, it's him."

Just as beautiful and fascinating as the name implies! I seriously recommend for the beautiful writing, the gorgeous world, the mythical creatures au, and the lovely bakudeku romance!

Learning Curve - sensiblysilly (4222 words)

Summary: Deku and Katsuki’s first kiss goes rather differently than planned.

And Katsuki’s quickly learning that relationships can be unpredictable - especially when taking into account the variable that is Midoriya Izuku.

This really is just a careful handling of a teenage romance where perhaps one of them may have shit they’re still working through. It’s really sweet, and a careful study at boundaries and the building of a relationship. I actually stumbled across this while looking for another with the same name and ended up pleasantly surprised. Kacchan can has a little validation, as a treat.

4/20 is a national holiday - Ereri_Garbage (

Summary: Izuku is a drug dealer that doesn't really accept the fact he's a drug dealer, Katsuki is hot as hell as shouldn't be allowed a facebook.

Happy (Late) birthday Katsuki and happy (late) 4/20. I actually half assed an edit on this one so it took longer to post than I thought it would.

Uummmm lmao yes I have a sense of humor. ;ALDSKJFLSKDJF Okay, I say that, but this is not a crack fic, it’s a good story that I enjoy with good writing, and *it has mature, content, obviously for multiple reasons here. It’s rated as mature but there are borderline explicit moments imo. It’s a fun fic and funny, too! And, ngl, it really does remind me of college... But forget about me, the bakudeku is wonderful too of course :)

Drinking Watermelon - warschach (8906 words)

Summary: For whatever reason, maybe divine fate, Izuku turned and looked over his shoulder and waved to them.

Katsuki’s heart full on stopped right then, and his fingers forgot their duty on the rails, and his body neglected its job to keep Katsuki balanced.

Izuku’s summer sweet smile fell into concern as Katsuki went airborne and cracked his skull on the porch.

or Katsuki works as a camp counselor, and Izuku is a boy made of summer heat and sunlight.

Love it when people have Bakugou as absolutely enamored with Midoriya; it’s so good and true. Anyways this one makes me like summer camp story lines. It’s funny and also cute and great writing! *It’s got explicit content, just a heads up. Warschach stories just have this youthful 80′s vibe, I don’t know how else to explain it.

there are listed buildings - semiautomatichearts (3309)

Summary: Katsuki first sees colors bloom when he is only three years old. It is timid Izuku, hiding behind the cover of his mother's leg who looks upon him with wide eyes, and Katsuki's world explodes in shades of greens and pinks and blues, and he is so startled, he begins to cry.

His life is then on defined in color, in shades his peers can't see, by the forlorn, timid stare in Izuku's eyes that always lets off more than he is willing to tell. There is a schism driven between himself and his fated other, and Katsuki strives to be better than fate, better than what is defined for him. He is more than the written pages of a book, to be cracked open and read by the gods.

He wonders if it is possible for colors to bloom for someone who will never love you back.

Ah...soulmates :) So interesting how bakudeku fits into soulmate aus like this one when they’ve known each other as kids! And when they’ve had this complex push and pull thing going on all their lives! The writing is beautiful, and so is the story!

Promise Ring - bkdkwritingsdump (3579)

Summary: The midwest in the 1950′s is no place for boys who like kissing boys: something Izuku and Katsuki know all too well growing up there. However, the undeniable bond between the nervous science geek and the aloof delinquent will still find a way to blossom in such a desert.

Cute, sweet, makes my gay heart ache. Longing not just for the one you love, but just to feel right loving them. Very pretty story line, lovely story telling!

Fics 10k - 30k:

Fishy - warschach (19417 words)

Summary: Izuku’s convinced his hot co-worker/neighbor, Katsuki, is a mermaid-or merman- you gotta consider genders even with mythical creatures- and plans to prove it.

(or this is kinda like the show ‘Monster Quest’, except Izuku actually finds said monster, falls in love, and have sexy times.)

Another warschach! I love this one, I love how they write bakudeku, particularly as college students, their stories (at least, the ones that I’ve read) always feel so warm, like a summer’s day, but not a lazy one, one that’s playful? If that makes sense? *This one is explicit, another heads up!

Manage Me - Justaperson1718 (10756 words)

Summary: Izuku caught himself moving forward, his head tilted somewhat to the side, and his eyes shot wide open. His gaze met Katsuki’s half-lidded eyes now that he was no longer in a dreamlike state, and seeing the way Katsuki was looking at him—waiting for him—made him realize Katsuki would’ve let him do it. He might have even wanted him to do it.

“You’re both doing fabulous!” the photographer called out to them, packing his camera into his bag and getting ready to leave. “I just got word that what we have now should be good, so we’ll stop there. Thank you for your time! Lock the door on your way out after you change.”

The pair stayed frozen in place, with Izuku’s arms around Katsuki’s neck and Katsuki’s hands resting on Izuku’s waist, while the photographer and his supervisor left.

“Kacchan,” Izuku cooed once they were gone. “Did you want to…?”

Love the story, love the bakudeku! Very, very good bakudeku TT_TT very sweet *There is some mature content in here as well

point to a map (we’ve been there) - cosmicfuss (10589 words)

Summary: Serendipity / sĕr″ən-dĭp′ĭ-tē Serendipity is the occurrence of an unplanned fortunate discovery. Two men find themselves on a subway, hot coffee on one while the other is in the middle of a screaming match. After that they can't seem to stop finding each other, no matter how far they go.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this fic owns my entire soul. I love the story, the ease of their relationship, just how lovely they are together. It’s another kind of nice, fluffy fic you’d read on a bad day where you come home and curl up in a blanket and listen to a ten hour video of thunderstorm white noise. *Again, some more mature content in here

Partners - tsukithewolf (13619 words) Another series! Two parts to this one this time

Summary: It is said that in Musutafu there is a charm that one can buy at a temple that will lead you to your destined partner. They say that if the charm works, you would be able to follow the red string of fate to the person you were meant to be with. And if the person returns your feelings, they would be able to see the string as well, proving that both were meant to be.

Three-year-old Katsuki and Izuku misunderstand what the word "partner" means and discover the charm and the rumor behind it is not only true, but more than expected.

Gets a little heavy, depression, bullying, suicidal thoughts, etc. But it must get worse before it gets better, that kind of thing. I also just adore the second part (called Bond) - maybe because it’s much fluffier, what about it?

Learning Curve - iknewaman (10304 words)

Summary: “Izuku.” Uraraka repeats as she motions at the person stood next to her. Green curls, average height, and, well. Up close, not such a bad smile. Uraraka points a thumb at Bakugou and enunciates slowly, “This is Bakugou. He can speak sign language too.”

Wait. Sign language?

The stranger— well, Izuku— looks at him with a raised brow. Their free hand lifts up as they make a slight motion of the hand.‘

Really?’

Bored out of his mind at a house party one night Bakugou is introduced to Izuku, a deaf student who offers to help teach Bakugou sign language in exchange for a favour-- or well, is prompted into asking for a favour.

Ah, I really want to explain this one a little bit? I’d never been into fanfiction ever, only really getting into it with these boys. This was the second one I read, I remember, and it caught me off guard, and it intrigued me. It really surprised me as to what fanfiction could be. Ngl I had biased perceptions of fanfics - I used to be one of those people who thought fanfiction could never be good writing - and this one slapped me in the face with it’s subtle beauty and creative story and heart melting capabilities, and very, very real relationship and growth. Anyways it’s so cute how happy Deku is to teach Kacchan sign language TT_TT Make sure to read the tags!

The Keeper and the Sun God’s Heir - SurelyHeavenWaits (12746 words)

Summary: The Titans' have stolen something important from Izuku, heir of the Sun God, and he wants it back.

This one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one this one- Oh my god this one. Okay so what, I was a Percy Jackson kid, what about it? I love the mythical aus, particularly the god ones. But beyond that, the writing is so beautiful, just like the world, and the imagery. The bakudeku...absolutely stunning. The story itself? Incredible. Cannot recommend more. *There is explicit content in this, though I will say, it’s all in the last chapter, and all of the story is in the first two chapters. There’s also a second part as it’s a series and it’s short but it’s cute and sweet TT_TT

seven days - aaAAAaaahhhhHHHHH (10094 words)

Summary: There’s something about the green haired boy, an aura that just drew Katsuki in before he even knew his name.

[Sometimes your mind forgets, but your heart remembers]

Heed my warning: DON’T read this in front of other people. I bawl every time I read this one TT_TT I know I said I don’t like angst but AJLSKDFJALSKDFJ it has a hopeful ending! I mean yeah you’re gonna cry but...hope? :’) (that username really says it all tbh)

Fics 30k+

Notice me, nerd - useless_donut (40000 words)

Summary: Bakugou is in love with Midoriya. He doesn’t hide it, in fact it’s so painfully obvious that the entire class of 3-A has him figured out in a matter of months (days, in some cases). Too bad Midoriya is the most oblivious motherfucker out there, and Bakugou is too damn stubborn to actually ask him out.

Will the class of 3-A survive the sexual tension? Who will snap first? Someone put Bakugou out of his misery, please, before everyone else dies of second-hand embarrassment.

(a love story as witnessed by the class of 3-A)

Love the idea of Bakugou being brazen and brash, cause yeah, he is. So fucking funny though how that translates to him flirting. Gotta say, thought I was gonna cringe, but his “I’m gay af” outfit really ended up being A Look. Love the mutual pining, it really is strong in this one. *Okay, mature content in this one lads.

While You Were Sleeping - Belkacaramelka (71197 words)

Summary: The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Quirkless AU based on the film; endgame BakuDeku. -- Katsuki didn’t know when the change had happened: how he had gone from asking why Todoroki chose Deku of all people, to wondering why it was Todoroki that Deku chose. Troublesome Deku, who cooed like an idiot at cats, tripped at a random catcall and sang badly. Who, despite everything, proved that it wasn’t the quirk that defined a person. Deku, who was too much, not his, and undeniably off limits to begin with.

Update: Epilogue added

*This one has mature content. If you can, please, for the love of god, read this fic. It’s like, tied with my favorite bkdk fic perhaps ever. It’s based on the movie of the same title, a nineties romcom with Sandra Bullock, but Belkacaramelka has so effortlessly made it into it’s own story, fit it so perfectly inside of the bnha world. I definitely stayed up until 6:30am reading this one. It’s got such good badass Midoriya, who is also sweet, and really really good reconciliation between bakudeku.

All Gifted - fitzefitcher (39129 words)

Summary: The thing about gifts is that they're meant to be given, they're meant to be shared; so Izuku will take his gifts, so freely given to him, and share them with all he holds dear.

Izuku is born without any gifts, as his kind often are, to a witch mother and salamander father, on one sweltering night in July.

This one is unfinished...and I highly doubt it will ever be. But what has been written is incredible. Once again, I’m a sucker for the magic/mythical creatures aus. But the relationship is great! The characterization is great! The found family trope that was building up is great!

under a hollow sun - umbrage (40572 words)

Summary: Midoriya is cursed with emptiness.

Misfortune leads him to a man of ancient magic and endless rage.

To stop an unfathomable evil, their mismatched halves must become whole.

Uuuggghhhh this was so good! I don’t think it’s going to be finished either :( Once again, fantasy au, more amazing writing, on point characterization, incredible pacing, makes you hungry for more story.

all the savage soul requires - majjale (58032 words)

Summary: Bakugou seems to have exhausted his patience for words and no longer acknowledges that Midoriya exists, so Midoriya crosses his legs, stares down at his hands limned in firelight, and makes a list of things he knows.

One. His name is Midoriya Izuku.

Two. He is a Godmarked, future god of life, heir to the divine throne.

Three. The gods have been fighting Death for eons, and now he's coming for recompense with everything he’s got.

This is majjale, so of course, the writing is more than beautiful; it’s absolutely breathtaking. This may be my favorite fic ever - unfortunately I don’t think it will ever be finished either TT_TT There’s the gods/fantasy au, which you know by now I love. But the characterization of our two boys is absolutely perfect, and I mean that as literally as possible. And the story being crafted between the two, the memory loss, the obvious history muddled by it all, it was so dense, and the PINING, so incredibly written, flowing so naturally. It wasn’t even close to being done, but it was wonderful, still is wonderful.

My Writing: (You can skip this if you hate shameless self promotion)

You’re too damn flicking cute (1815 words)

Summary: Bakugou is certain his shitty boyfriend is instigating kisses. Maybe it doesn't help that he keeps giving them away like it's a damn going out of business sale, but the stupid nerd is too fucking cute. Either way, like everything else, this is a competition, and he's going to win it.

Please don’t read this unless you’re going to the dentist afterwards! I’ve been told it’s so sweet it’ll give you instant cavities >_>;;;;

Bakugou Katsuki, you smooth motherfucker (10118 words)

Summary: Everyone around him knows that Bakugou Katsuki has a very special way with words. To the untrained ear he is loud and crass; to those that speak Kacchan, he is caring and inspiring. Yet there are rare moments, moments so fleeting you blink and you miss them, where Bakugou’s words pierce straight through Midoriya’s chest, and surprise everyone around him.

Goddammit, if only he would say them to Midoriya’s face.

Or, the five times Bakugou said something nice about Midoriya, and the one time he said something kind to him (but that was too long of a title).

I think most would consider this my best published fic; it’s one of those snapshot fics, “the five times where x did this, and the one time where they didn’t.” The recurring comment I get on this one is both of them being super in character, so I think that’s it’s defining characteristic! Bakugou and Midoriya have never known a life without the other, and in a perfect world, they never will.

Here, let me fix that (11247 words)

Summary: Bakugou honestly never thought he’d see Deku ever again. And now that they were together in this tiny compartment, alone for the next two and a half minutes, he had no clue what to say. He’d just apologized, right? So perhaps he could leave it at that and carry on with the original plan to never see the green-haired man that reminded him of dense forests, late night adventures, and tear-stained faces, ever again.

Ha! Who is he kidding? These bitches are soulmates.

I’ve gotten some critiques on this one, so sorry in advance if it’s not to your liking! Basically, what if Midoriya never got his quirk? Obviously, life would find a way to put them together because, as previously stated, these bitches are soulmates.

Plenty of Time (16654 words)

Summary: Bakugou found what little sleep he got restless and filled with nightmares that he forgot the second he opened his eyes. Tonight was the first time in a long time where he just had a normal dream - and it happened to be about Deku.

How fucking typical.

In other words, two dorks realize they have feelings for each other but don't know what to do about said feelings.

Ah, my first fic. Very simple, boys being boys, kinda like a slow burn? Idk how to explain this one, just boys figuring out their feelings and trying to figure out what to do about them. Been told these two are a little stupid but I think that’s valid.

We’re all time bombs waiting to explode (39223 words)

Summary: We have now entered the slipstream of time, into an alternate dimension where it neither is, nor isn’t, the 80’s. Two teenagers, burdened with the weight of adolescence in the modern world, find themselves struggling side by side, in part because of each other.

Bakugou, the most popular boy in school, has everything he could possibly want; status, power, and an unbreakable will. Having been dragged along behind him all the way to the top, Midoriya can’t help but wonder how (and why) he ended up standing beside his childhood friend-turned bully-turned friend again, weighed down by their complicated past and present. As the tension between them grows every day, and the arrival of a new, pretty face causes it to peak, it won’t be long before something - or someone - snaps.

I am...very bad at titles, and summaries apparently. This was my Heathers au, but it very quickly diverges from the original (I don’t do sad endings....) *This one has mature content, including implied sexual activity, drug use, and underage drinking, along with other heavy topics; please read the tags! Though tbh Midoriya is 17 for a couple weeks before it hits his birthday halfway through, so keep that in mind I guess? I kind of went heavy with this one, but I think the pay off was immense. This is the one with the most amount of comments stating it’s their favorite bkdk fic ever (and I cry). It’s a rough start, with a rough journey, but so is bakudeku! There’s a lot of petty drama, and then all of a sudden it’s Not That Petty and very much Far Too Real. Many have cried reading the ending, I cried writing it. My sister says it’s her favorite of mine. Now, I did kind of push this out without polishing it so much because I was losing my willpower, so if it feels lacking, that’s one hundred percent my fault.

Okay that was a lot! It took me a couple days...I hope I wasn’t too annoying with all my opinions! Please have a nice day. and enjoy some good reads, even if they aren’t the ones in this post!

#bakudeku #katsudeku #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bkdk #fics #my writing #god i really hope i didn't fuck up any of this #i spent a long time on it alksdjflaskjdflkasdjf #this is 39 fics without my own #and 44 including mine #i can tell i've forgotten some but #idk it's hard TT_TT #anyways it's 2:30am #if i go to bed at 4am one more time i'm gonna throw myself down a flight of stairs #i hope this is good enough as is!#most of this was written very late so I hope it doesn't sound...crazed

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the-river-person · 3 years

Text

Renaissance

“YOU’RE ACTING VERY ODDLY, SANS.” Noted Papyrus one morning when he bumped into his brother on his way to the stairs. Sans wasn’t really ready for the day, his pajamas rumpled and his eyes sleepy, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. What was strange was the fact that he was carrying a basket full of dirty laundry and was on his way to put them in the wash. If it had been the first and only time, Papyrus might have hugged him with joy and thanked the Angel for miracles. But that had happened over a week ago and Sans had since done this and other chores without prompting several more times. Blinking up at him with an expression that very clearly said that he wasn’t really all awake, Sans tried to grin. “What do you mean? I’m just trying to get some clean clothes, is that so weird?” “YES,” said Papyrus. “ YOU LEFT A SOCK ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR FOR OVER A MONTH, PROBABLY LONGER WITH THE RESETS IF WE’RE BEING HONEST.“ That encouraged a snicker from Sans. “It’s still there actually.” “I’M WELL AWARE. BUT DON’T TRY TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT! YOU’VE BEEN ALARMINGLY ACTIVE FOR YOU AND I INTEND TO FIND OUT WHY.” Sans gave him a thumbs up and a wink and Papyrus glared at him before stalking down the stairs, his head tilted up to give an air of disdain towards his brother, who laughed. Breakfast was an interesting affair. The Egg and Cheese Breakfast Muffins that Papyrus had made were pretty enough to look at, though entirely inedible. He’d found the recipe in a book at the dump and had been attempting to recreate the dish. The only real reason this batch hadn’t gone quite right was because they’d gone rock solid at some point during the baking. Still, he’d also made some bacon, so they’d eaten that. There was much less of a restriction on food nowadays. Normally food was collected and sold through the vendors with a stock being held in reserve in case the fields stopped producing or the garbage stopped flowing. But since the world would reset every few weeks the reserves weren’t kept as big and more foods were allowed through. Some monsters, like Papyrus, were taking advantage of the excess to experiment more with various dishes. Sans had to admit that his brother’s cooking skills were improving by leaps and bounds, and only rarely ended with something they couldn’t actually eat.

Everyone’s lives had been severely rattled by the recent events. Sans hadn’t realized how much would have to change in their new circumstances. With no need to spend time and effort farming or collecting food and resources to maintain their lives, many Monsters had turned to entertainment. At first Mettaton’s tv show boomed with success as the only real official source of digital entertainment the Underground had to offer. But it was only two Resets into their new lives that the first alternatives had begun popping up all over. Amateur musicians began uploading videos of songs to the Undernet, either of their own composition or covers of existing songs like the “Angel’s Prayer” that children were fond of singing. Not all of them were spectacular, but they got the enthusiasm, praise, and encouragement of everyone in the Underground anyway. Not a single video went unseen, and several more were created because some Monsters were inspired by what they’d seen and heard. The Spiders who lived in Hotland put on a televised performance of Web Swinging crossed with Ballet where they performed “Coppélia” to the absolute delight of all their viewers. Even the Queen, seemingly returned from death overnight and the cause of much initial confusion and fright in the populace, made a concerted effort to aid Monsters in reforming their lives in some constructive way despite the lack of work. She founded a school where all those who wished to learn were invited, regardless of their age, and various Monsters were invited to come lecture or teach all kinds of subjects to whoever wanted to learn them. Since no school building could be made that would stay past the Resets, they made do with hundreds of tents upon the crystal starlit fields of the Grand Cavern. Both Papyrus and Sans had signed up for some of these. Toriel’s baking classes were fun and there were often treats to be sampled afterward, including her famous Snail Pie. Though Papyrus would groan in feigned agony as Sans and Toriel shot pun after pun back and forth at one another while working, he didn’t really seem to mind all that much and occasionally would contribute a pun of his own, though Sans could never quite tell if it was intentional or not. Old Seam it seemed had decided to participate in the fun as well. Though he’d been a soldier in the wars and now ran a little shop in New Home, he seemed thrilled to totter his way all the way down to the School in order to teach magic tricks. Young Monsters sat wide eyed with astonishment as the old Cat-Monster made lights appear and vanish, caused rubber balls to pop endlessly from his mouth only to turn into wisps of smoke when he dropped them one by one into a glass of water, or make his wheezy laughing voice come from various objects such as Queen Toriel’s teapot or a desk or someone’s stack of books. Everybody loved the tricks and spent a great deal of time trying to learn how to do them, with limited success. Toriel only stepped in once in order to stop Monster Kid from doing his own version of one of Seam’s best tricks, which involved sawing a volunteer in half and having their lower half walk around a stage before somehow putting them back together. Wherever you looked, Monsters were creating and innovating, finding new ways to create a working life. When the world Reset itself, they’d start new projects, continued practicing hobbies, set up tents or made temporary stages for performances or meetings. Games were played, songs written, and some particularly industrious people still found ways to put themselves to work. Through it all, Sans was beginning to feel more and more like he was being cornered. Monsters talked, and many of them wanted justice for the Resets and the loss of any chance to escape from the Underground. Others weren’t sure it mattered anymore as long as the human continued their duty of Resetting, or thought maybe the human should stay hidden in the Ruins even as they Reset the world every few weeks. Whispers mentioned the Judge. Surely the Judge would know what to do? Surely surely the Judge could tell them what was right?

He hated it. With each passing day the idea of having to tell the truth about his position inched closer and closer to reality. Even as the Queen avoided him outside the structured time of their classes, and Alphys grew obsessed with perfecting the Solution so she could undo her terrible mistake, Sans found himself finding ways to stay busy, to keep moving. If he never paused for too long he wouldn’t have to think too hard about his role. Wouldn’t have to wonder how he was going to live up to their expectations. The Royal Judge wasn’t supposed to be a public duty, it was something secret, private. The Judge was an ordinary monster for a reason, someone who could judge even the King or Queen fairly if it came to it. Now... He wasn’t sure he could judge fairly, not after everything. And while the whole Underground waited for his decision. No, he didn’t want it. But there wasn’t going to be much choice. Wishing, not for the first time, that he could just fly away in a rocket ship to mars and never look back, Sans occupied himself by helping Mettaton with a class about Acting Methods. Specifically he was supposed to come in and try to sell a Hot Dog to Mettaton while the other reacted in various ways depending on the character being portrayed. It was silly, and watching the robot prance around and loudly proclaim his own virtues to his audience was kind of fun. It was like everything was still normal. Even though the world had changed and it felt like nothing could be the same, there were still things that wouldn’t change.

#undertale #undertale au #sans undertale #the great papyrus #toriel dreemurr #the royal judge #mettaton #seam deltarune #Reset #hotland #muffet undertale

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silentprincess17 · 3 years

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Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga

Chapter 1: Everything goes wrong when you don't have breakfast

Link was having a bad morning. He’d missed breakfast, a cardinal sin, and now he was anxiously darting around the Bazaar, weaving between the trees, in an attempt to see if he could spot a glimmer of blonde hair or a flash of a blue shirt.

She just had to run away. Again.

He sighed. It wasn’t that hard to understand why she constantly gave him the slip, even if he wished she didn’t. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to think such things, especially when he knew it wasn’t really him, she was running from, rather it the sword that was strapped to his back. It wasn’t him she was frustrated with, it was herself. And the sword symbolised how he was apparently fulfilling his destiny and his side of things, whilst she struggled endless with the stone-cold Hylia and had nothing to show for it. Essentially, the sword meant destiny and fate had already set out a predetermined plan for her, and she was currently set for failure. So yes, he could understand why she felt the need to escape what was surely a suffocating sight every day- the boy with the sword that has it all sorted, geared and ready to go, whilst she stumbled in the dark, Hylia’s Divine Blessing evading her.

If only she knew how much he struggled too. He didn’t just pull a sword out a rocky pedestal and boom morphed into Hyrule’s Saviour. He’d trained long and hard too. And frankly, he had felt compelled to draw the sword, it hadn’t been something that was in his control- if he had a choice, then he would also choose to just leave it be in the Lost Woods. It sounded naive and foolish now, but he hadn’t anticipated what the consequences would be when twelve-year-old Link had jumped up and wrapped his hands around that cursed mauve handle. Mostly, the thing he regretted the most about pulling the sword was that he’d effectively doomed them all. Did he want to be the one to basically foreshadow what was now surely coming? No. Another was that it had put a timer on the Princess to find her powers, and he didn’t want to cause her such anguish at being unable to unlock supposed birth-right sealing powers that she clearly didn’t have and didn’t know how to obtain. But… there had been a hidden consequence, one that he couldn’t for the life of him have predicted- when he released the sword from the pedestal, it didn’t just end with him now possessing the mythical legendary blade, oh no. He’d also obtained a whole wealth of memories, memories of past lives, past successes, past failures, and he’d lost whatever childish innocence he’d had then. And it crushed him, having this soul that apparently was doomed in this endless fight, and now he had to live up to them. He had to live up to these past Heroes and by Farore he had no idea if he’d be able to.

Every word that had come out of the Princess’s mouth at his blessing ceremony had cleaved him in two. All those past disastrous events that happened in Hyrule, and all the lengths his predecessors had gone to save the country… Adrift in time indeed. IN TIME. How was he supposed to do the same? And it made him fearful. And he was not easily frightened. He liked to think he was a little bit brave, he would run headfirst into any sort of challenge, be that eating rocks, defeating hordes of monsters, including Lynels, or even redirecting errant guardian laser beams but when he thought about what those Heroes had gone through… He certainty didn’t feel very brave when it came to imagining what exactly he’d have to do, what trials he would have to face, in line with theirs.

He finally finished strapping the sword properly to his back, he’d ran out as soon as he realised she was missing, and he tried to find any distinguishing patterns of her boots nearby. It was a useless venture, because sand shifted, constantly, and as a result any tracks were lost pretty much as soon as they formed. He sighed, deciding to do another very quick run through the Bazaar in case anyone else had spotted her, or she had come back from the baths maybe. He was clutching at straws, he knew it, and he felt that familiar churning feeling in his gut that something was wrong, but he decided to keep calm and check again just in case he’d missed something.

He sighed, even before Urbosa told him how the Princess’s behaviour was in fact coloured by the sword, he could have guessed. One of the biggest signs was that she always looked at it, instead of him. He only wished to tell her that he was just as lost as she was, because yeah sure, everyone Impa stated that he had the Sword that Seals The Darkness. Okay, but how did it do that? How does one go about killing darkness? Monsters he knew. Monsters he’d trained for. But darkness? And the thing that frightened him the most was that most of the past Heroes had fought a man. A power-obsessed, strong-willed and formidable opponent, but still, fundamentally, a man. None of them had fought this… Calamity equivalent that he seemed to be up against. Hence why he was uncertain, and fearful even, if the sword would be enough.

Not to mention how much it pained him that the arrogant idiot bird had managed to find his greatest insecurity, but that was neither here nor there.

But in truth, every time someone mentioned how he was their savour he wanted to cry. Perhaps she didn’t realise that whilst everyone had pinned her as a hopeless case and a lost cause, he’d been saddled with double the expectations to succeed. So much pressure, so many eyes, that he’d all but gone silent. Every word spoken could be misconstrued in some shape or form. Nothing he said was ever safe from scrutiny, so to continue to play the perfect, composed Hero that he was supposed to be, he decided to stop talking. What he wouldn’t give to explain to her that these praises that were lavished on him made him feel sick. Made him feel suffocated. Made him like a liar. Because really, he felt like a failure too- he had no plan other than maybe try and hit the darkness with the sword and hope that works. And the foreboding feeling he had that he hadn’t yet faced the supposedly impending huge trial that most of the other Heroes had, and they had all done said trial well before they obtained the Master Sword. He felt unworthy of it, somehow. All he’d done was train hard, fight and try to eradicate the plague of monsters in the land. He hadn’t travelled through time, he hadn’t transformed into a wolf, he hadn’t lost his sister, or his best friend. Hence why he was dreading meeting Ganon. There was a catch somewhere. He could feel it.

He exhaled heavily, sweat starting to build on his brow. This was why he wanted to tell Zelda that she wasn’t alone. That he knew what she was going through. They were a pair in destiny, fate… even souls after all. But she hated him, his very being, and probably wished he didn’t exist- no correction- she wished the sword didn’t exist, then he wouldn’t have pulled it and wouldn’t have become a direct comparator for her success. It all felt futile sometimes, and he wondered why exactly he was in such a melancholy mood this morning. Probably something to do with not eating.

She wasn’t in the Bazaar. He’d now checked over every stall twice. And Link felt rising trepidation. Of all the places for her to run away, she’d chosen the desert. She’d chosen where the main dissenters of the Royal Family lived. She chosen the one place where it was highly probable that there would be an assassination attempt on her. And he wasn’t there to protect her. Link could freely admit to himself he was scared. What if he didn’t find her in time, what if – No. He had to think positively. And then his eyes fell to his Champion’s tunic, embroidered, as it was, by her hand. Goddesses above, how would he present himself back the Castle if he’d actually lost her this time? And in such a worrisome place too. A stone settled in Link’s gut, as he desperately racked his brains, replaying last night’s events trying to remember if she’d dropped any hints as to where she was going.

He drew a big fat blank.

In the name of Din, where else could she have gone? She had been silent on the way back from Vah Naboris, probably reproachful that he’d managed to find her, yet again. And he had, admittedly, found it suspicious that she’d remained mum, accepted going to the Bazaar, and sleeping in the Inn, and leaving to head to Goron City the next day without a single word of dissent. He should have known that she was planning something.

And now, it was starting to get hot, as he quickly ran off towards the path, wondering if she’d gone back to Gerudo Town. But she’d already said her goodbyes to Urbosa last night... Link sighed, the heat already causing his tunic to stick to his back. It was a desert after all, one couldn’t expect it to get cold during the day, and he hadn’t had time to fill in their canteens, and oh for the love of Farore could he at least get a single sign as to where Her Highness had deigned to grace her presence at. He didn’t want to be beheaded for incompetence so soon.

He saw a small cloud of sand rise in the distance. At this point, it could be a mirage and he was seeing something that his mind had conjured in desperation at trying to find the missing Princess.

And then he saw a flash of red.

And his blood ran cold, despite the heat.

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 3 years

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[takes a deep breath in]

And another thing

If the Destroyer ate people and gained their smarticle particles then why did it fall for the most basic trap in the beginner's hunting book or whatever idk I don't hunt

Like okay

It eats entire civilizations, says the eridians

It takes all that intelligence for itself, says the Eridians

We've gotta trap it, they say

But this is a dummy easy trap to spot, they say

Let's give it bait, they say, and look pointedly at Nyriad but her eyes are empty, so they sigh and resign themselves to their job

And then they go party inside Pandora and the Destroyer actually goes in to eat them while Nyriad sits on Nekrotefeyo while she closes a big vault with glowing magic siren hands

What.

(how she knew when to close it with the machine when she was halfway across the galaxy I genuinely have no idea but that's not that implausible given the Eridian tech we've already seen, so I ignore it)

Anyway

Ur telling me. That this big tentacle monster thing with the knowledge of multiple, entire civilizations (billions probably trillions of minds) combined somehow couldn't spot that obvious trap and maybe instead of going inside didn't just put a few tentacles in to grab some folk

Like its big ol brain wasn't like

'Hm. If I go in to this suspicious enclosed space after these people, it might be a trap and I might get stuck here. I should wait outside'

The way the *situation* is described it sounds like nothing more than a big mouth attached to what amounts to a predator animal that can be tricked with basic traps

Put the food in the box, when it goes in the box, shut the lid. Trapped.

Which might not even be true, because the Eridians tell (ha.) Nyriad to specifically note that it is smart enough to not be tricked by traps, unless the bait is good enough

So I have a few branching theories

The first is the basic 'the Eridians lied to Nyriad (what else is new) and the Destroyer really was a thing that just ate a bunch to the detriment of everything around it and the Eridians used Pandora + the machine to send themselves back to their home dimension while making it look like they sacrificed themselves to trick humanity'

this is sorta kinda backed up by my write up on how tychos ribs might be the actual Vault entrance, with the eridium keeping it open and how when you enter you're clearly in another dimension and not inside a moon (there are not galaxies inside moons afaik that's probably a space issue there) and how the giant eridium crystal isn't necessarily the Vault despite being named it, just a part of it that lets the Sentinel act with more power and control the area (like a simulation the VHs entered, which I insist was expanded on with the claptastic voyage dlc). I'm saying like in tps, you enter the main vault thru the elevator and thus there is no big 'walks thru a portal' situation, u just take an elevator down. Same with when u enter Pandora as a Vault. It's not a huge thing, you just enter it from one side and boom suddenly youre in another dimension. Which the Eridians most likely are from, anyway, given Nekrotefeyo means First Landing in their language. (Also how a lot of the names of locations in the Machine are about a home)

Second part that backs it up is when you open the Vault of the Destroyer in BL1, that's definitely one of those Vault traveling film things in between those rocks. It's not a big canyon like you see on Pandora in 3 that Tyreen just jumps into (see above). So *that* Vault led to somewhere, and it led to the Destroyer (emergency human feeding port for some reason). Meaning there was at least one functional gateway between those two areas. The point is that there were ways to travel into and out of the Vault of the Destroyer, you didn't always need to crack Pandora open like an egg.

Also when Tannis uses the machine, she near immediately shows that it can just. Create portals. Gameplay/story convenience or not, thats a pretty big deal because if the machine was build solely to seal Pandora, why does it have the power to create portals between two places?? Couldn't they just. Teleport the Destroyer into Pandora with a well-placed portal then close Pandora real quick with the Machine and not have to all sacrifice themselves? Shit they could have even teleported the Destroyer inside then placed two looping portals, one at the exit and one in the far back so whenever it tried to go out the exit, it was sent back to the other side of the inside of Pandora until the machine worked its magic.... Or even if they did need to bait (no.) the Destroyer in, couldn't they just use the machine to teleport themselves back out then close the portal real quick. Yeahhhh. So anyway that's what I think actually happened, but back to their home dimension so Nyriad thinks they died. I don't think Nyriad really knew what she was doing with the machine, and Tannis is a tech whiz so I'm not surprised she immediately discovered this thing had other options built in. It's possible even that the guardian watching her was doing some stuff behind the scenes (have I ever mentioned I always assumed that was Scourge. Like. The way he speaks gives off that vibe that he saw what Nyriad did and is pissed about it).

Anyway the other theory is that the Destroyer was totally aware it was a trap, but decided the knowledge of the Eridians was worth the wait.

OK so. This one isn't as backed up as the other one, but essentially if this thing is as smart as we are lead by Nyriad to believe:

It eats entire civilizations -> it gains the knowledge from everything it eats -> it has the combined knowledge of entire civilizations

Then this thing ought to be like. Pretty fucking smart right??

So why would it let the Eridians lead it into a trap like that?? The only answer I can think of is that it wanted their knowledge. They're from another dimension (tho given one Typhon line so is the Destroyer? I think I remember that right??), they have this wacky tech, they're the ones that build the prison its about to enter, and the Guardians that will guard it

Getting that knowledge could have been worth it for the Destroyer for whatever reason. Other than, like, using that info to break out of prison and wildly miscalculating, idk, it didn't seem like it was building stuff and using big smarts to eat people, just sorta giving them the munch. It could have wanted info on the Guardians, since things clearly aren't what they seem with the Seer's dialogue, so maybe it's using whatever it learned about the Guardians to control or manipulate them into controlling and manipulating other people into opening the Vault

It could have been, if it's so damn smart and did actually eat the Eridians and gain their knowledge, biding its time and waiting for the perfect moment to escape. Idk how patient something that is described as endless hunger can be, but that's another option

Ofc there is always the option that the Destroyer was just having an off day, didn't consume any coffee shops that morning, just was too sleepy, saw the opportunity to eat an entire civilization of bug people, and went for it. Maybe it was just having a bad day idk.

Istillthinktheeridianscreatedandorbroughtthedestroyerhereandnowtheyrefleeingfromtheirmistakesandwatchingustoseewhathappens

OK byeeee

#Things I zone out about in the shower: Nyriad logs #borderlands #borderlands 3 #cruddy rambles

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tsukihimeyfan · 3 years

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Sozin’s Comet’s Deus Ex Machina (and ways to fix them)

I’m sure that most of us AtLA fans can agree that the four part Finale was one of the best moments in animation history, with astoundingly well choreographed fight scenes, fantastic emotional beats, gorgeous animation, and frankly breath-taking music. However, I’m also sure I’m not the only one who was frustrated by one aspect of it in particular, the one blot on an otherwise perfect finale: what I like to call the “lion-turtle and pointy rock” ex machina.

The saddest part is that there was very little they had to change to get to a satisfactory, ties-everything-together ending. For example, take Energy-bending and the Lion-turtle. I saw a post a while ago where they suggested that energybending could’ve been related to what Aang learned from the swamp and the Guru, and it just makes SO much sense (Note: I saw the post months ago and I can’t find it anymore, so if anyone knows who first posted that theory please let me know so that I can give credit where credit’s due). After all, Aang seemed to use the energy of the swamp to sense where Appa and Momo were, and later, during Appa’s Lost Days, Guru Pathik says this:

Meaning he, a non-bender, is capable of reading the energy of others, and of locating people bonded to them from miles away. Let’s not forget that he had also previously sensed everything Appa had gone through with the same ability. Sounds like a really useful skill, wouldn’t you say?

Also, looking at both “sensing” occurrences, they look remarkably similar, so we can be reasonably sure that they’re both employing the same method.

It would’ve been so easy to have Aang take a moment to ask how Guru Pathik met Appa. After all, as far as the Gaang knew, Appa was taken by merchants to be sold in Ba Sing Se, so he shouldn’t have had a chance to meet anyone at the Eastern Air Temple. Did the merchants pass through the temple on the way to Ba Sing Se? Did the Guru try to set Appa free? Pathik would then have to explain how Appa had already escaped on his own, and he helped him find Aang by reading his energy. Aang could then ask the Guru to teach him this ability so that if they ever get separated again he’d be able to find and help Appa easily. Boom - energybending basics acquired.

A highly spiritual person like Aang would no doubt have little problems mastering the sensing ability, especially since he’s used a limited version of it before at the Swamp. Also, if we think about how much the spiritual mentors in the show have tried to drill it into Aang that all things are connected,

we can assume that after mastering everything Guru Pathik could do he would eventually be able to sense even people vaguely connected to him from far away. Being the Avatar, the bridge between the spiritual and physical worlds, would almost certainly also help him master energysensing abilities no other had before.

Maybe they could’ve added a few 30 second scenes here and there of Aang meditating to hone his energysensing skills. Also, during the whole Boiling Rock debacle, imagine how great it would’ve been if Sokka had asked Aang about his dad and, after pressing his hand to Sokka’s forehead and following his bond to his father, Aang was able to tell him that his dad was alive and well, and that he was somewhere in the direction they’d come from, though at that point he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint his exact location.

“I’m sorry Sokka... I can’t tell exactly where he is yet... I know that’s not really helpful...”

“No, knowing he’s alright is plenty. Thanks, buddy”

After Sokka and Zuko rescue Hakoda, I could picture Aang practicing harder than ever until he could use Hakoda’s bond to Bato and the others to locate them in a prison in Caldera City (which would’ve made rescue before ending the war difficult to say the least, and would explain how they were all there for Zuko’s coronation so fast)

Later, during Aang’s trip to the mysterious island, it would’ve been so cool if, instead of handing him the ability, the lion-turtle just told him this:

... and maybe showed him visions of his energysensing training when he did the forehead-touch thing. Then, during the battle with Ozai, maybe after redirecting the lightning away from Ozai Aang could think to himself “I can’t... he may be a monster, but he’s still my friend’s father!”. Then, he suddenly realizes that just like with his friends and family, Aang has a connection with Ozai too, and that if sensing someone’s energy happens by putting a bit of his energy into them, maybe he can use the same route to take some of Ozai’s energy away from him.

Imagine how amazing it would’ve been if they’d added those little snippets of Aang’s energybending training all throughout book 3, without giving it that name, and then Aang used what he’d learned from Guru Pathik and Huu and what he’d taught himself to rediscover a technique that hadn’t been used in millenia all by himself! (well, with a little “nudge in the right direction” from lionturtle-sensei) We were SO close, all the building blocks were there but... *sigh* we ended up still so far.

Continued with solving “pointy-rock-ex-machina” under the cut

In Book 2, we’re told that to master the Avatar State Aang has to “let go of his attachments”, but that plot point is dropped completely and all he has to do is get hit in his lightning scar and BAM! Avatar State unlocked, no letting go required! 😒

He was still just as attached to Katara as he was during Book 2, if not more so. So, in the interest of trying to figure out how to tie up as many loose ends as possible, we could try to hit two birds with one stone by fixing another thing at the same time that wasn’t addressed either.

We could start with a conversation between Aang and Katara where he apologizes for kissing her when she clearly didn’t want him to at some point during Sozin’s Comet Part 1 - The Phoenix King.

“I accept your apology Aang” Katara’d say, “but from now on make sure to respect people’s boundaries, Ok? Especially girls’ boundaries :) We can talk about this more after everything’s over”

At this point, maybe Aang could be left to think and reflect on his relationship with Katara, on his attachment to her, and on how he’d started thinking about her as “his” almost without any input from her.

Maybe Aang could begin to really understand what Guru Pathik was trying to teach him when he said “you must let go”, and the difference between love and unhealthy attachment to people.

He’d therefore be going into the fight with Ozai with that fresh on his mind.

Then, as the battle raged and he grew increasingly desperate, maybe he’d try a few times to force himself into the Avatar State only to fail miserably.

At this moment

when he’s been overpowered and cornered (and also has a little bit of “downtime” to think), he could start desperately trying to figure out a way to enter the Avatar State, and wondering why he can’t do it. Katara’s been healing him every day! The scar doesn’t even hurt anymore! Why doesn’t it work???

Then, he'd realize that it doesn’t really make sense for a lightning strike to lock his 7th Chakra, since according to what Guru Pathik taught him chakras are locked or unlocked through changes in emotional and spiritual state, not physical.

(Note: this is also backed up by what little I know of irl chakras and activating Kundalini in the Yoga school of Hindu philosophy. If anyone knows more about it please feel free to add to this or correct me. I’d love to learn how the concept of chakras in Avatar contrasts with its real life counterpart 😊)

Also, if the lightning had messed with the Avatar State some other way, like by blocking his chi for example, he shouldn’t be able to bend properly either.

So what could’ve caused his problem with the Avatar State?

Of course! After Katara saved him, Aang became even more focused on gaining her love, and grew even more attached to her than he’d been before! Of course he can’t enter the Avatar State!

Now, I’m a Zutara shipper all the way, and this would work much better if that had been canon, but this could work even with a Kataang endgame since, as I said before, Aang kind of become obsessed with the idea of making Katara “his” no matter what, a clear earthly attachment, instead of loving her unselfishly and letting her love him in her way:

Notice that he said “we kissed” even though he kissed her, and then “I thought we were gonna be together”, an assumption he made without asking her anything once. Same as in this scene:

Mastering the Avatar State doesn’t mean not loving anyone romantically, as we can clearly see through Avatar Roku’s example (also the “if you want power abandon your loved ones” message is stupid and I don’t like it at all. This would be better imo)

Even during the process for unlocking the chakras, the Fourth Chakra tells us that finding love isn’t contrary to spirituality, and can even be a source of spiritual strength. However, I’ve always thought it was a bit strange that the “new love” Aang found to fill the hole left by the deaths of his people was.... just Katara

Because what Aang lost was essentially all of his family and friends right? So wouldn’t it have made more sense for Aang to envision Sokka, Toph, Appa and Momo as well? You know, his old family vs. his new family?

I didn’t fully understand what exactly was wrong with it until I read some of tumblr user marsreds’ metas on the matter, and I have to agree with them that it seems Aang was sort of focusing on his love for Katara so much partially as a way to cope with the loss of his people. To keep it out of mind. That’s not how you build a wholesome romantic relationship, and it doesn’t seem like the best way to deal with grief either. No wonder his Seventh Chakra was blocked.

I would’ve loved to see Aang realize at the moment of truth that in order to access the Avatar State he simply had to let Katara go enough so that he could love her selflessly, so that her wants and needs, and the needs of the world, could come first. He needed to become able to accept her answer, whatever it was, when she gave it. He needed to come to understand that his happiness wasn’t completely (or even mostly) dependent on getting into a relationship with Katara. He had a family he’d found all on his own, made up of friends who adored him and who would’ve given their lives for him if necessary. He was not alone in the world any more. Even if she told him no, he would in all likelihood find new love and be happy.

(in fact we have proof and there’s a perfect candidate right there in the Fire Nation but I digress)

The rest of the finale could’ve played out exactly the same as canon, and in the end Aang would’ve had a better understanding of himself and some inner peace. They could’ve also given us an inkling that Aang would later get to mourn over the deaths of his people properly, surrounded by his loved ones (maybe, ideally, in a hypothetical Book 4-AIR?. God, I wish)

I’ve seen some posts about Aang letting go of his attachment to the Air Nomad’s teachings instead (with maybe that very decision to put the needs of the world above his own being what unlocks his Seventh Chakra), and those are magnificent ideas as well, but I myself would’ve preferred if it went this way because I think there’s something beautifully poetic and satisfying about Aang staying true to himself, finding an alternate solution to violence that would still protect the world, and using the wisdom of His People to put an end to the very war that caused their destruction, while simultaneously giving the worst possible punishment to a man as power-hungry as Ozai

...and leaving him the same way he’s left many of the Fire Nation’s victims in the past: trapped, powerless and forgotten.

I also feel like this ties up all the loose ends better, since it was his attachment to Katara specifically which stopped him from mastering the Avatar State in the first place. And, Kataang endgame or not, it would’ve sent a wonderful message about building and maintaining healthy relationships, perfect for the show’s target audience of preteen and teenage kids.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

#atla #sozin's comet #Avatar The Last Airbender #thyf rambles #atla meta #aang #katara #meta #my drabbles #kinda

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mochikeiji · 4 years

Text

[Sir. S] Tendou Satori

Pairing: Tendou Satori x Reader

Genre: Kinda Abusive, Mafia!(+ Joker&Harley relationship)

GIF is not mine!

a/n: really love the idea how twisted and crazy Tendou could be “ψ(｀∇´)ψ so why not?

Was it because of the toxic waste that made you insane? Was it because of the excruciating abuse you have gone through to think this monster loves you? What was to be blamed. When you desired this ever since you got hypnotized by his own lies.

"Such an angel."

His fingers would trace your hair locks slowly, you would grin at everything he would do to you. Even if it was suppose to make you cry in pain.

"My angel."

His hand would curl on top of your head, gripping, and pulling on the roots of your hair. He'd force your head up to meet with his face, you'd be giggling like a mad woman, wanting nothing more than to have his bloodstained lips against yours. Wanting his abnormally sharp teeth bite your lower lips, your tongue. It wasn't a surprise that soon you'd become addicted to the metallic scent and taste of eachothers blood. Not when you seem to have a crack on your brain that will forever be damaged in complete sanity.

No one dared to mess with him. If there was, they have his consent. Guys like Ushijima, the guy who he admired, and followed in his footsteps. Except he was more dangerous, and menacing than the rest of the members in Shiratorizawa. Some say he's been like that since he was shut a child. Always enjoying people who get hurt. Even the way he sings his song, the meaning behind was much more deadly according to Semi. Having to experience killing someone with him as he sang that song.

And then there was you.

His Queen.

No woman was as broken in the head as you were. You were more terrifying than your boyfriend was. Ushijima pitied you deep inside, but he didn't utter a question on how the used to be sweet, and loving classmate of theirs grew up to be the only woman in Tokyo to be the deadliest. Kiyoko couldn't match your abilities, your risks. You were the embodiment of ride or die. The perfect match for Tendou.

And no one messes with his Queen. Until now.

"You know you're fucked."

They hated your face. Hated how you taunted them with your smiles. They hated the way you didn't show any cooperation despite having multiple death threats, and your skin being cut deeply with a knife as you were cuffed on a chair.

"Sugawara, quiet her down."

He was kneeling beside you, cringing at the sound of your laughter getting louder as the knife neared your arm.

"Come on, pumpkin. Do it!"

Able to atleast lift the chair a little, you jolted your own arm up, letting the knife stab in before he could even try. You bit your lip at the sight of your blood oozing out of your skin. Sugawara felt a sweat slide from his forehead witnessing your reactions.

"Scary."

"She's more messed up than he was indeed."

You can hear the two rival members talk with eachother. You were excited to hear that Ushijima found some new rivals to play with, but didn't expect them to capture one of Shiratorizawa's defense. Which was you. But that didn't mean you weren't anticipating the next scene to be unfold soon enough.

"You are soooo screwed once Sir S comes here."

"Sir S?"

"What the hell—"

Laughing loudly with your head thrown behind. Weren't they warned? Didn't they just have two of their members, the orange and blue hatred male spy on your territory one time?

Weren't they aware of the death threat they've played upon themselves?

"So gullible. You two are adorable, birdies."

Giggling, the two shared a look at eachother before nodding. Daichi fishes his phone out of his pocket, dialing Hinata's number. Leaving Sugawara to interrogate you on who the person you were talking about. All details must be taken seriously if they wanted to get out of this alive.

"Are you talking about Ushijima?"

"What? Big Wakachan? Hell no. I'm talking about my sweeeeeet victory boy!"

Sighing dreamily. This always happens at the sheer mention of Tendou, you'd find yourself wetting your own panties or gushing over your man. It was like he's God, and you're a follower. He's the vodka you're willing to get drunk, and never get tired of drinking.

"You're so stupid to think you've captured Shiratorizawa's greatest defense!"

"GET OUT OF THERE, DAICHI! IT WAS A MISTAKE! WE DIDN'T KNOW—" Hinata's voice was booming against his phone, Sugawara can feel himself shaking a little. He never yelled like that. He's never heard his members feel so scared before. His wide eyes find your features, almost looking like a bloodlust creature.

"When you haven't even captured their monster yet~"

"SUGA—"

The roof above your heads came crashing down. A big hole can be seen as if someone had landed in front of you. The two males coughed the dust away, waiting for the smoke to clear out to get a better look a what has came. It was a matter of seconds before that happened, Daichi had managed to pull Sugawara to his side. Otherwise he would've been crushed by the weight of the concrete, and that person.

"Ara ara, lookie what I found."

For other people, they would be frozen as they stood on thin ice whenever they hear his voice. But for you, you were giggling in excitement, hands balling into a fist. You couldn't wait to be freed.

"I see you've got yourself in a tight situation, (Y/n)."

You tried to look innocent for him. In a way, it was working. He just grins behind him. "What kind of foreplay is this? You didn't tell me you were slutting around, and oh—"

Pretending to be surprised, he raises his hands in defense, looking baffled at Daichi and Sugawara crouching on the floor boards.

"And two?" he gasps exasperatingly, "Why, angel, I am offended. You didn't invite me to your threesome party." The tension was building up. Daichi couldn't think straight of a plan to escape when Tendou had this strange are editing from him. If he makes a moves, he can almost feel his body being pierced into a big hole by a knife or a gun.

"No no no! It's not what it seems Sir! They captured me! They think I'm a monster. See, they even scarred me."

Trying to push the chair slightly into the light, Tendou can make out the slashes of the knife, and the fresh wound on your arm. His eyes darkened before facing the two males again.

"Oh? So I see you've had your fun with my Queen. That must've been very enjoyable, don't you think, Daichi chan?"

No one answers.

Daichi remembers the last thing Hinata had yelled at him before everything went into a mess, "Don't ever get close to him! Just get out of there!" and the last being,

"Once he starts singing, make a run for it! He's got a machete!"

"Hey, (Y/n). Let's sing our little friends a song, hm? The tension is killing me."

Oh this was the part you were waiting for. It was even more fun to be singing a song, and watch him slowly grab the weapon behind this back. Secretly you had managed to uncuffed yourself earlier before this was about to happen. You could've escaped, but.

You weren't going to miss out another one of Tendou's play dates.

"Baki baki—"

"DAICHI!"

"I KNOW!"

Immediately, they draw their guns out, firing aimlessly around you and Tendou. Yelling out a curse, you covered yourself by the table as Tendou ran on the other side. Clearing a path, the two Karasuno members sprinted out. Not daring to look back at the room. Outside was Asahi, Tanaka and Nishinoya, waiting for them in their vehicle on guard.

Meanwhile back in the war looking room, Tendou got out of his hiding spot, and went over to you. Hissing at the stinging that was now kicking in all over your scarred limbs, he kneels down and examines you. Tracing has fingers softly on your arms with sadness in his eyes.

"Oh, my poor angel." cooing, he places a small kiss on each scar. Shivering at his addicting affections, you let out a whimper. "You must've been so scared, huh? Letting some scoundrels take you, and hurt you." his face was getting closer to yours, when his forehead was leaned against yours, the hand that was cradling your scarred arm suddenly grips onto your fresh wound. Biting your tongue from the pain, and holding back your tears.

"Only I am the person you are allowed to be scared." You can see his knuckles turn white. He was seething in rage, possessiveness.

"And only I—" biting on your lips, giving you one of his mouth sucking kiss. One where you have to push yourself away in order to breathe, "Only I can do this to you."

Instead of screaming when his nails found their way on your scar and digging them in. You giggled madly, tears falling from you eyes in which you call them your happy tears. Because he was here, Tendou was here. He came to save you.

And it was out of love.

It was out of love, you think.

"Yes, Sir S."

No sane person could handle what you were going through. To those who once did, has died gruesomely before. But you, oh you were a treat for Tendou. Being a sick freak he was, he was still being loved by a freakier person. And hearing you submit yourself to him, just drives him even more mad as the building was being set on fire, with both of your sinister laughter echoing.

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awkwardbsd · 4 years

Note

Hii I love your blog and i love bungou stray dogs Would you recommend a couple of animes

OH BOI! I’VE WANTED AN ASK LIKE THIS FOR A WHILE!

While I recommend some more than others, I enjoyed all of these anime. I mostly copied and pasted another list that I made, but there we go! Have fun!

Feel Good Stuff – Some stuff that leaves you feeling good about stuff. Whether the majority of the series or film is lighthearted or it’s just laidback, both will be included here.

Tokyo Godfathers: one of my favourite anime movies and far more light-hearted than Koe no Katachi (warning though for slurs used in this movie towards transwomen – she’s still the best character in the movie and the movie makes a point to let her know that she’s the best human on this very planet because Hana is a treasure)

Gin no Saji: If you’ve watched Fullmetal Alchemist, it has the same creator except it’s slice-of-life on a farm. I found it to be touching because it squares in on student experiences and connections. Also has sage advice.

Barakamon: Has children actually voiced by children. I watched it during a really important period of time for me. It centres and hits points that a lot of artists have.

Kimi to Boku: I can’t remember why I enjoyed this anime. I just know that I did for some reason. It was really simple.

The Boy and the Beast: I have mixed thoughts about this movie, but at the end of the day, I really enjoyed it.

Zombieland Saga: I just find it nice to find an idol anime that doesn’t focus on the whole “the girls all have to be cute”. One is a biker chick, one is indicated to be a former prostitute, one is a verified transgirl.

Those Movies That Have to be Mentioned – I’m legally obligated to mention these.

Anthem of the Heart: sounds like a crack premise (“girl gets cursed by an egg to never speak again after seeing her dad cheat with another woman in a love hotel like a castle”) but ends up being really good.

Your Name: practically everyone has watched that.

Koe no Katachi: A lot of people have watched this already. I always recommend it, but it’s very emotionally heavy and deals with suicide, bullying, and disability. It’s ending can make you cry from happiness though.

Wolf Children: Well, only if you’re okay with crying (at least on the inside)

Hotarubi no Mori e: It’s only 40 minutes. Probably won’t make people cry, but yeah, I can’t say that much.

Shounen – crack open one of these, and the boys and girls are sure to come

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood: I’m legally obligated to mention this. it was one of my first anime (after Magi) and it was amazing.

My Hero Academia: Yeah... I had to mention this too.

Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic: It was my first anime. It has a lot of shonen crap, but it’s also dialogue-heavy.

Seishun Buta Yarou: Drew in fanbois for the “plot” (bunny girl - what else can I say) and made people stay for the actual plot. It ended up being really quirky and funny. It was like the Monogatari series (which I tried and didn’t like) but better and more “legal”

Yakusoku no Neverland: If you’ve watched Chicken Run, imagine that with people. It’s a farm that farms children so they try to run.

Kimetsu no Yaiba: Shonen Jump doesn’t have that many misses.

Noragami: The gags resonated with 14-year-old me

Assassination Classroom: Underdeveloped cast? Yeah, but it was still a really good Shonen Jump adaptation.

Comedy – The stuff that’s not quite conventionally “shounen or shoujo” but still tries to make you laugh, no matter how hard they try or how hit-and-miss they are

Mob Psycho 100: The second season is amazing. I found it to be a really good solid show.

Hinamatsuri: If you like Mob Psycho or if you just like the idea of an adult adopting a kid and teaching them stuff along with the kid teaching them, this is the one for you. I was laughing and crying (from tears of laughter) at this.

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun: I can’t label this a romance because the romance doesn’t go anywhere. We start at square one and we finish at square one, but the stuff that happens in the meantime makes it all worth it.

Danshi Koukousei no Nichijou / Nichijou: Hit-and-miss, but there are a lot of iconic moments here.

Hataraku Saibou: I think this fits the best here. It’s just a good solid anime about cells in your body.

Shoujo/Romance – In case you need some fluff to fill the dark times; cheese levels vary.

Fruits Basket: Shoujo at its best.

Kono Oto Tomare: I don’t know how this got produced by Shonen Jump SQ because it’s like a cliche shoujo that would make even shoujo manga readers throw up flowers

Toradora: It’s a hit-and-miss for people just because the main character is a tsundere (played by the queen of tsundere herself)

Ookami-san to Shichinin no Nakama-tachi: this ended up being a guilty pleasure for me – not quite a direct romance but direct enough

Haikara-san go Tooru: Technically a movie and only has the first part, but the manga is from mid-70s is a shining example of the feminist boom in Japan after WWII

Gamers!: This was best explained by a comment I read somewhere going “I love this anime, but it makes me want to bang my head on a wall repeatedly”. Misunderstandings: The Anime. Everyone has a hard time.

Kaguya-sama: It was a huge hit in the 2019 Winter season of anime and for good reason. It’s getting a new season coming up too.

Wotakoi: Two adults falling in love. It’s funny and a little bit niche and directed towards otaku.

Yamada-kun to 7-nin no Majo: Technically a shounen, it was a harem anime that ended up being pretty good? I was so side-tracked by the idea of that, especially since I found the premise mildly interesting. The manga gets extra points for being really cute with that last chapter. I mean, it has boobs, ass, and a lot of kissing, but the female mangaka was taught by the creator of Fairy Tail so it’s really runs in their roots.

Shigatsu no Kimi no Uso: Ultimately included this one in romance, but many would say this belongs in the next category.

Akagami no Shirayuki-hime: This is so heavy on cheese that I had to pause at times and go “what am I doing? Is this how I die? How will my family react to me watching this?” (the last question is one I ask of myself often)

Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun: A lot of people who’ve watched BSD like this anime. Tumblr loves this anime.

The Horror! The Horror! Some Dark Stuff That Belongs in a Cauldron, and those onion-cutting ninjas. – Honestly, it’s not my favourite genre, but some of these ended up being among my favourite anime?

Death Parade: It wasn’t in the genre I usually watch (no comedy at all), yet I was moved every time? That last figure skating scene was *Canadian-French Accent* C’est Magnifique.

Shinsekai Yori: I watched this anime feeling SOOOOO UNEASY. Nothing was even happening that was “scary”. It was just the mere ideas behind it as the eerie world-building led me to go “WAHHHHH” over my computer. It’s one of the best anime I’ve watched, but I can’t recommend it to everyone.

Mousou Dairinin: It’s Satoshi Kon but sane. You actually get a conclusive ending. It has a surprisingly current message behind it though. It’s like Satoshi Kon continues to influence.

Perfect Blue: Now to the less sane Satoshi Kon work that confused me. Western movies literally copied one of the scenes from this movie.

No. 6: I can’t list this anywhere else, but it was the first anime to depict a really, really, really sweet gay relationship. Even though it was a complete fail adaptation-wise, it also gave Hosoya (voice actor) inspiration to keep going. It’s a gift.

Anohana: *ahem* I was recommended the anime by someone I’m no longer close with, but the memories that I had watching this and the message was probably the closest an anime has brought me to actually crying in a non-depressive fashion.

Gakkougurashi: Cute girls doing cute things with zombies that are about to eat them and destroy them all.

Erased: Okay, compared to other great series that I’ve yet to watch (Steins;Gate and Monster), it’s probably trash, but I remember really enjoying it when I first watched it.

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years

Text

Sick Little Games: Four

B.C.

Bucky had overheard Thor. The big blonde asking what had happened when he noticed your red eyes and mussed makeup. You’d said it was nothing, but it was clear that he didn’t believe you. Stupid kid, Bucky, scoffed to himself.

He kept a wide berth of Thor, though, knowing you were going to have a very visceral reaction to being close to Bucky and knowing Thor wasn’t as dumb as people tended to think he was. He watched as Thor tucked you against his side and coaxed you into the car with him, out of the public eye. Thor, probably better than most of the others, understood how alien these press events felt for you. How alienating.

Supersoldiers, spies, billionaires, heroes... there were movies about them. They permeated popular culture so thoroughly that they seemed relatable. Witches though? Witches in this culture were scary. Alien. Often cultural shorthand for evil. Thor knew better. He knew that you, that your kind of witch was indicative of a pure heart. And he knew that these types of events made you feel exposed.

“My Lady,” Thor said gently, “Please. You are not alright.”

“I'm just stupid, Thor. It’s fine... I just. I’d like to go home and go to sleep, I think. It’s been a long week.” you tell him, carefully taking off the rest of your make up.

Thor frowned, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to speak to someone?”

“Thor, I told you. He isn’t interested... Really he hardly even knows I exist.”

Thor scowled, “He knows enough to know how to hurt you clearly.”

“He didn’t do it on purpose,” you sigh, “He’s not a monster; he’s just...”

Thor smiles a little, “He’s a man.”

You nod, “I can’t... no one could be that malicious, right?” Thor looks down at your face. Big eyes, reddened and tears pooling again even now as you try to tell him it’s okay.

“No one,” he reassured, brushing a soft kiss against your hair. But in his heart, he knew that wasn’t true. Some men. Some kinds of especially broken men take a heart that’s proffered to them and break it. Crush it in their hands the way he’d seen you crumple thick black earth when you’re tracking something.

Thor stays quiet after that. He leaves you to your thoughts and is careful not to press too hard. Back at the compound, he stays near you as you walk through the doors. And so he doesn’t miss when you flinch away from Bucky when you nearly brush against him. Thor watches you scurry towards an elevator to your room, keeping your head down, a pair of heels in your hand, and he frowns. “Hmm,” he rumbles. That filled in another piece for him.

“What’s up?” Steve asked, looking between you, still obviously upset and Thor. Thor frowned, “I am not sure. The lady has elected to keep her own counsel.”

“Is she pregnant?” Sam blurted out.

“That’s unlikely,” Thor snorted.

“Is it boy trouble, though?” Clint asked, falling into step with them all.

“I promised the lady that what she told me would be in confidence,” Thor said firmly.

“So, yes, but you can’t tell us that,” Clint snorted.

Thor’s eyes narrowed, and Clint held up his hand, “I’m not gonna ask her, I just wanted to know if I should be kneecapping someone.”

“Or making a move,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

Clint flushed and rubbed the back of his neck, “That obvious, huh?”

“Boy,” Sam said, smacking the back of his head, “The only person that HASN’T figured it out is Y/N, and that’s because she’s mostly oblivious to anything that isn’t a rectangle with pages.”

The archer rubbed the back of his head and sighed, “Still, she’s not interested in me. At least not like that.”

“Not yet,” Steve said, shrugging, “I mean. It’s not like you really tried anything.”

“If she’s got boy trouble, it’s with someone else,” Clint reminded.

“You could turn her head... with a hair cut. And a personality transplant,” Sam said.

“Hey, fuck you, I’m charming!” he protested.

“About as charming as roadkill,” Bucky said walking by to the training room

“Fuck you too!”

“Not my type.”

Thor rolled his eyes, and Steve chuckled, “Boys, you’re both pretty.”

“Am I not pretty, Captain?” Thor asked, smirking. His booming laugh echoing off the marble foyer when Steve threw up his hands in exasperation.

___________

You sat at the vanity in your room and surveyed the makeup and brushes you had laid out. Then, you looked at your own face.

Shaggy hair that needed to be professionally cut instead of it just being you lopping the ends off with a pair of scissors when it got unbearably shaggy. Eyes, lips, nose, cheeks, forehead... all of it was nothing to write home about. Not like the girl Bucky had been whispering to on the balcony. Each whispered word, and lingering kiss had felt like a pin shoved into your heart with devastating accuracy. Hitting every insecurity.

The stupid thing was, you knew spells and cantrips and potions that could make you as beautiful as that woman. More beautiful even. You could make yourself so earth-shatteringly lovely that men would fight and die just to walk you across the street, but...it would only be an illusion. Like it was for that woman. A dream of a fierce fucking contour and some really beautifully applied eye make up. Anyone could learn to do that part. She’d learned, between Natasha and youtube. Something was soothing about the process of putting the various goop on your face to create the look you wanted to wear. And you were halfway through sculpting your own contour when Natasha burst through your door.

“Oh good, you’re getting ready,” she said, lounging on your bed.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Out,” she said, “Girls night out.”

You nod, accepting this, “Not a club, right?”

“No,” she scoffs, “Wine and canvas.”

“Gods bless Pepper,” you laugh, “Did she book the whole building again?”

“Tony insisted,” Nat said stretching.

“Tony?”

“We’re supposed to be interrogating you about your current boy problems.”

You’re heart stutters, and your hand pauses, halfway through putting eyeliner to your eyes, “Boy trouble?” you say out loud while internally cursing Thor.

“The boys are convinced you’ve got a crush or something...”

You roll your eyes, “As if I’d tell them before I told you.”

“That’s what I said,” she answered. If you were struggling with some unrequited love, you hid it reasonably well. Natasha hadn’t known about it and still couldn’t get a fix on who the object of your affection might be. Maybe you were getting over it on your own. It’s not like you didn’t have a support network to lean on. Perhaps Thor had been more helpful than he had thought.

_____________

A. C.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve had this specific house. But that’s all it is. A house. It’s lightly furnished. A few dishes, enough furniture to make it comfortable. It’s better than it was. For a couple years, you only had lawn chairs and a mattress on the floor. A few books and some plastic dishes.

It was a place to go to. You had to drive for almost an hour to get anywhere with a movie theater, and there were woods for miles. It was fine. You felt almost safe. Almost okay. There was no one to come towards you with menace in his face. There was no one to prey on the anxieties in your mind.

At least. At least until a beat-up blue pick up rolled down your driveway. You took mental stock of where your staff was in the house and marshaled a little energy to bear, firming up shields and willing yourself not to look surprised... Until you recognize the man that gets out of the car.

“Clint?” you say, tilting your head, releasing the energy you’re holding, “What are you doing here?”

He lopes towards you with a sheepish smile and stops at the steps, “I- I came to find you.”

“Why?” you ask, “Did something happen?”

“I missed you,” he said, cheeks coloring, “Movie night is no fun without someone that understands how to riff on shit.”

“I don’t have a T.V.,” you tell him, rubbing the back of your neck.

“We don’t- I mean. We can just talk.”

“You drove all the way out here to talk?” you ask, taking a hesitant step down to him.

“I mean- I- We don’t have to talk... I could just take you for ice cream. And tell you you're pretty.” He gives you a little crooked smile and holds out his hand.

“I- I dunno if that’s a good idea, Clint.”

“Since when does that matter?” he teases gently, “I don’t wanna stick my tongue down your throat. I just miss my friend.”

“It’s a 30-minute drive to a dairy queen,” you tell him, taking the hand he’s holding out.

“So... 30-minute concert with yours truly as the featured Artist,” he laughed, “Good thing I put new batteries in my hearing aids.”

You giggle and for the first time since he found out you’d left, Clint feels like himself. And it feels good as he helps you up into the passenger seat.

Tags: @lancsnerd, @thorfanficwriter @blameitonthecauseway @etherealwaifgoddess, @stevieang, @beautybyfire, @sunmoonandbucky @mrsfox79, @bbmommy0902, @mendes-fan, @iheartsebastianstan, @wtfcas @pinknerdpanda, @process-pending, @ladifreakingda, @leasly, @coldbookworm, @hv-chw3, @past-perfect-future-tense, @starkrobb @beardburnsupersoldiers

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky x reader #natasha romanoff #Clint Barton #Clint Barton x reader #fluff #angst

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

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What is This Feeling? || Deirdre and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The woods PARTIES: @deathduty and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: A banshee and a hunter end up stuck in a witch’s magic circle. It’s all fun times. CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of emotional abuse

The forest was always familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Kaden spent his life in various parts of the woods. They were all the same and they were all different. There were always trees and birds and branches. Always monsters and teeth and claws. But they all felt different in the end, just enough. White Crest’s woods felt dangerous and comforting all at once, like it could never pick what it was or who it was for. Some stupid part of it led Kaden back into the thick of it. His knife was still out there, the blade stuck straight into a werewolf’s skull. He could leave it there. That would be simple. He could get a new knife, it hardly mattered. Sure, silver knives were expensive but they’d be easy enough to acquire in this town. Not like he didn't have others, anyway.

It didn’t matter.

He wound his way through the woods anyway. Something pulled him there. Maybe he was looking for comfort, something to dull the aching loneliness that kept building and building every day since the incident in the morgue. Maybe. He wasn’t sure that was it. There was something else. Some sick desire to find the body of the werewolf, see just how very dead it was. Who knew. But he didn’t find his knife. And he didn’t find the body. What he did find was so much worse. “What are you doing out here?” he asked the fae across the way from him. Of all the banshees he wanted to see, she wasn’t the singular one. Her presence didn’t bring him any comfort. In fact, it might be the opposite. “Or can you not tell me?” he added, huffing out a sad laugh. The joke was mostly for his sake, anyway.

Hunting rabbits was a harder venture than Deirdre remembered it being. Of course, the creatures were experts at being hunted; always on alert, swift in the ways they darted around the forest floor, almost as if they loathed to be seen. The game of luring and trapping was only interesting to Deirdre if her prey were touch more advanced than rabbits--humans were interesting creatures when stripped of their comforts. She’d seen enough men try to become like the rabbits; wide eyed, clawing at the ground for speed that would never come to them. Even as survival was written into their bodies, they never were anything like the rabbits. But it didn’t matter. Her task was to catch a rabbit or two, the likelihood of there being any humans around for her to play her games on was too low to even bother getting excited at the idea. As she considered what method she might employ this week (throwing the wide net of a scream and seeing who she’d caught in it was getting boring, on account of her having done it last week), one of such humans she never thought she’d see emerged between the shadows and trees. She frowned as more and more of him came into light. “Oh,” she said, “it’s you.” Kaden Langley was a human that was never any fun, unless he was tumbling down stairs. She could feel the bitterness in his question like it was its own person standing between them. “What? No ‘hello’? No ‘how are you doing’? Where are your manners?” She scoffed in mock insult, grinning widely as she considered what she could do with him (if there just happened to be some moose poop there, and she just happened to push Kaden into it…) “You really want to know what I’m doing?” Her delight grew devilish across her face. “I’m hunting rabbits. I happen to quite like them dead.”

It had been a solid minute and Kaden was already ready for this interaction to be over. It was really unfortunate that Deirdre was integral to Regan and Morgan’s life. He supposed Blanche and Ariana cared for her, too. There was no way to remove Deirdre completely from his life. Or himself from hers. Cleary to both of their dismay. “Hello, Deirdre. Yes. It’s me. Funny enough,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Nope, no ‘how are you doing.’ Because I don’t really care. Noticed you didn’t ask me that, either,” he said with a shrug. Then again, he was sure he looked a little worse for wear. As much as he tried to look less disheveled than he felt, whe wasn’t entirely certain that he’d succeeded.

“Rabbits, huh? Why are--” Kaden paused and blinked a moment. Wait. Why was he even engaging? “You know what, never mind. I don’t care. Hunting rabbits isn’t illegal. I have questions. But you know, I really don’t give a shit what the answers are. Or about your well being. Or anything at all to do with you.” He felt the tinge of a lie staining his words. He did care about something to do with her. He wanted to know more about what sort of training she was pulling Regan through, why he couldn’t know or “didn’t really want to know.” He cared a lot about Regan’s well being and, unfortunately, Deirdre Dolan had a direct effect on it at the moment. He balled his hand into a fist, squeezing it at his side.

Not worth it, none of it. Kaden sighed and walked past her, storming through the leaves, happy to have her gone and out of his life for another however long it might pleasantly be. His day was only looking up and he was going to forget all about this and move-- “Putain!’ Kaden shouted, his hands jumped up to clutch his nose. What the fuck? It felt like he ran into a fucking wall. Kaden looked around for some source of the barrier but there was nothing there. He tentatively took a step forward, but his knee rammed into the hidden wall. “Shit, shit, what the--” Kaden grabbed his knee and rubbed it, trying to act like it didn’t hurt half as much as it did. He sighed and put his hand out to touch the barrier. “Hello, and welcome to the trust circle,” a woman's disembodied voice boomed into the forest surrounding them. “Let’s begin your healing together.” Kaden stood, blinking, hoping he was hallucinating. Was he stuck with-- No. No, no no. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Deirdre smiled, “no, I didn’t ask you either.” If there was one thing she could trust, Kaden must have been as annoyed with her as she was of him. Unfortunately, Kaden lacked flair. And while Deirdre was thinking of ways to torment him, she was sure his simple mind only thought of ways to leave. “Is that so?” She stepped aside as he walked past her, leaving her biting comments to herself. There was a lot she could have said to urk him, but maybe it was for the better that he left. She had her hunting to do and could do without an audience. She sighed and began her own trek away when his shouting snapped her attention back. She watched him collide with an invisible wall with amusement before pressing her own hand out and feeling that her end was blocked off as well. Less amusing. A woman’s voice took the air and Deirdre’s displeasure shifted to concern. She threw a knife, whizzing past Kaden, watching her weapon bounce off air and tumble down. “Oh no,” she hissed, walking along the curved edge of their cage. No holes. No gaps. No secret doors. “She wasn’t joking when she called this a circle.” But what was that other part? Trust? She glanced over at Kaden; as if she could trust him. She’d sooner starve to death in their circle than try. Deirdre pulled out her phone, hoping to shoot Morgan a text, finding instead that the cursed rectangle of foregin technology would not operate. “What is this!?” She snapped at Kaden. “I have things to do!” Deirdre turned her head up to the sky, yelling at the disembodied woman. “I have important things to do!”

Compelled by a great idea, Deirdre pulled another knife out. “Maybe I'll just end this quickly.” The woman’s voice chimed in again, “your healing starts with your words.” Deirdre groaned, petulant as she sensed her plan of murder was a losing battle. Huffing, she crossed her arms and slumped down. “Dig us a hole out of this nightmare prison, Kady. Chop chop.”

“Putain!” Kaden shouted as a knife flew past his head, at most an inch away from slicing into his ear. Or worse, his hair. “What the fuck? Are you trying to kill me?!” That was a stupid question. Even when she wasn’t trying, there was no doubt she wished him dead. For all their differences, they shared that in common. He stood, arms folded as he watched her make her way around the circle, confirming they were trapped. Together. The sigh he let out was so intense he was shocked it didn’t rustle the leaves. What a perfect cap to a truly shitty week. He should have seen it coming, really. He’d wondered if the ground could swallow him up whole when sitting on the curb across from Deirdre. He honestly hoped for it once again. Just to make sure, Kaden pulled out his own knife, poked at the barrier. It didn’t break through, pierce anything, not even a little bit. He bent down by the ground, couldn’t make any marks in the dirt to throw off the magic either. “Merde.”

Kaden glanced up to see Deirdre, her own knife in hand and a glint in her eye. “Hey!” He stumbled up and held out his own weapon in defense, ready to throw down if that’s what this was finally coming to. It wasn’t murder then, it was just killing in self defense, completely justifiable. He wasn’t sure if the words from above were a comfort or a disappointment. His shoulders drop and his stance relaxed. “I’m not digging you shit,” he said. “I tried poking at the ground, there’s not disturbing the earth around this bullshit barrier.” The voice came thundering back, “you are correct. In order to experience true growth and go your separate ways feeling better and more whole again, you have a few options.” Kaden reconsidered the need for witch hunters in that very moment. “You can either find a way to truly appreciate something true about each other. Or you can gain a real understanding about your partner in the circle--”

“Hey, no, not a partner!” Kaden shouted back at the sky. “Excuse me, pushy poutine, no interruptions please!” the voice continued. “You and your companion can only leave here once you use your words to build a better relationship between one another. I look forward to experiencing your new found light both in and out of the circle. Blessed be.” Kaden rubbed his temples. This was some next level new age garbage. It made Morgan’s rocks from way back when look grounded. “Fucking hell. Where do you want to start? You know, aside from trying to stab one another. Since it sounds like that just leaves one of us alive stuck here with a dead body until this witch comes back from whatever trip to la la land she’s taking.”

Admitting that she was trying to kill Kaden, or that she wanted to, or that she enjoyed making him think that she wanted to, would be like admitting that she breathed air. Deirdre simply shrugged instead, noting that Kaden’s vocabulary truly was just ‘merde’ and ‘putain’. Maybe she’d get him a nice thesaurus so he could get his feelings out more eloquently. She listened to the woman explain their torture to them, and considered that she really would be dying here. To appreciate Kaden would be to compliment a pile of shit, their value being limited to how great of a fertilizer they made. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t be made to do it. No witch was going to make her. “I appreciate how much of an idiot you are,” she said, raising her hand to knock against the barrier that was--unfortunately--still there. “Well,” Deirdre threw her hands up, “I tried.” She pulled her jacket off and bundled it together, placing it down on the ground as a make-shift pillow. She adjusted herself to get a better sleeping position, but the dirt was gross, her pillow was terrible, and her company was even worse. “I would love to be stuck here with a dead body, they’re far more interesting than you.” And though it wasn’t a compliment at all, Deirdre raised her hand and knocked it against the barrier again. “I don’t think this witch is coming for us. She sounds very dedicated to her healing…” Deirdre yawned and closed her eyes. Accepting her death here, even if she hadn’t screamed for it yet. Maybe that would come some weeks into starving?

After a moment, Deirdre tried again, “your face is slightly above average.” Her hand hit the barrier. She sighed, stirring herself from slumber that wouldn’t come to her anyway, not under these circumstances. “Look, why don’t you tell me something very embarrassing about you and then maybe I’ll--” She gestured quotations in the air. “‘Gain a real understanding of you’. And, well, I would share something embarrassing about myself but I just don’t have any flaws.” She leaned against the barrier, taking her jacket-pillow and stuffing it behind her neck. “Of all the rings to stumble in...it just had to be some witch’s counselling ring.”

Of course. Insults from Deirdre. How original. Kaden rolled his eyes at her comments but they hardly bothered him. What did was watching her curl up on the forest floor. “You’re not really taking a nap are you? Come on.” He had a feeling he’d be rolling his eyes a lot for the next however long they’d be stuck there. If what the witch said was true, likely hours. Maybe days. Especially with how helpful his current key to getting out of here was being. Bordel de merde. He picked his way along the barrier, looking for any hole she might have missed. “Slightly above average?” Kaden was really wishing that hole in the ground scenario would become real. But only if he could push Deirdre down the pit and watch her fall. “I’m not telling you anything embarrassing, fuck off.” His eyes were going to get tired if they kept rolling around in his fucking head. The last thing he planned to do was be the first one to open up. Not with her.

But they had to do something. Kaden couldn’t find any other way out. And if he didn’t start talking, apparently she was about to doze off. Then again, if she did, throwing rocks at her to wake her up sounded more fun than this. “Fine. Whatever. I, uh,” he paused, searching his mind for something he didn’t hate about Deirdre. It was really a tall order. “I, uh, appreciate that you’re helping Regan. I guess.” He pressed his hand to the barrier. “No lies, please,” the voice whispered. “Come on! It is not a lie! And why didn’t you do that when she mentioned my face? But really, come on, I appreciate that she’s helping Regan, why wouldn’t I appreciate that? Why are you a pice of--” He grumbled and kicked at the stupid barrier. Which hurt his foot. Fucking bullshit circle. Couldn’t even tell the truth from a lie, how the hell were they getting out of there? Because he did appreciate her help with Regan. Didn’t he? He thought of the bandage on her hand, her hurting herself, how closed up she’d been, how much she was isolating and hiding from him. He hated it, all of it. And all he could wonder while glancing over at Deirdre was if Regan was going to have to become more like her, something farther from-- “Stupid fucking cirlce,” he muttered to himself. “I don’t even know how we’re supposed to do this. I mean. What sort of shit is this witch even looking for?” He kicked some more leaves on the ground.

Kaden’s hand reached up to rub the back of his neck, searching his mind for anything likeable about Deirdre. She made Morgan happy. But really if there was anyone else who could do that, he’d swap them out in a heartbeat. One of his, not hers. Anyway, that didn’t feel like what the witch wanted. “Well. You helped with that bies that one time.” A small sliver of the previously invisible circle, maybe an inch or two, started to glow and turned green. Huh. “You showed a lot of control. With your scream. Which I’m learning is hard. Or something.” Two more inches. “Alright, I moved the dial, it’s your turn.” One inch shrunk back. Fuck this fucking witch.

“I wasn’t lying about your face being slightly above average,” Deirdre laughed, though her amusement was short-lived. Kaden’s words echoed around her, and beyond them, the booming chiding of their witch captor. No lies, please. Of course he didn’t appreciate it, who would? Deirdre opened her eyes, pulling her jacket out from behind her and staring at the leather she just wrinkled. She tried to straighten it out with her fingers as Kaden continued his hysterics. She wanted to fix things, but ironing out leather with her fingers was as futile an effort as trying to teach a banshee kindly was. He said it was her turn, but her mind hadn’t stirred from his earlier lie. “I know you hate it,” she said, “for what it’s worth, I’m sorry Regan couldn’t tell you--at first, anyway. I’m sorry I did that to you.” The green ring grew and Deirdre turned her gaze back down to her jacket, the more she looked at the stupid green glow, the worse she felt about it. She wanted it to go back down, she wanted to spew as many terrible things as she could think of. Something about his hair, another thing about the idiotic way he spoke, something else about how annoying his grumbling was. Each green inch felt like a layer of her that had been peeled raw, and she hadn’t even said anything yet. “I knew you’d try to stop it...because you love her. I know you do. I trust that you do. And taking her away from the pain I have to deliver...that’s exactly the kind of thing someone who loved her would do.” No one ever tried to take her away from anything, and she closed her eyes tightly before they could water anymore than they already had. She swallowed, opening her eyes only when her breathing returned to its steady, ambivalent inhales and exhales. “I know you love how much she cares about people, but she can’t---” Deirdre swallowed again, going back to her attempt to sleep on the floor. Maybe this nightmare would be over when she woke up, maybe Kaden would grow some courage and just stab her already. She bundled the jacket up under her head and flipped over, staring at the forest instead of whatever expression Kaden must have been giving her.

“I don’t care about people,” she said after a moment, “maybe I did once, but I don’t anymore. Maybe the same thing happens to Regan, maybe she figures out control and kindness in a way generations of banshees couldn’t. I don’t know. I can’t give you whatever hope you’re looking for.” Deirdre closed her eyes, finding darkness suddenly far more comforting than the trees. “I feel sorry for you, Kaden.” She couldn’t tell how much she’d moved the green up with her dialogue, but she found quickly that she didn’t care. If her goal had been freeing them, she would have picked something much easier to compliment---she did appreciate how hard he tried, how much he cared, and okay, maybe she didn’t completely hate him. But she had bared her vulnerabilities enough for one lifetime, and couldn’t stomach the idea of doing anymore of it. She didn’t want to be Kaden’s friend, she didn’t want to ‘gain an understanding’ or appreciate him. She wanted to catch the damn rabbits she’d come here for and go home to the only place where being herself didn’t feel like a chore or a crime. “Just compliment my ass and get this over with.”

With each word Deirdre spoke, the circle glowed more and more and Kaden’s brows furrowed, creases in his forehead getting deeper and deeper. She was sorry Regan couldn’t tell him? But why? She was the one who-- But it was true. It had to be. The magic of the circle confirmed it. She said the same thing as Morgan and Regan. That they knew he’d try to stop it. He bit his lip, considering the words over again. They knew. But he wasn’t sure. No part of him wanted to see her in pain, of course not. But she was in pain not being in control. Hurting people. And he had an obligation, a duty to protect humanity. He’d ignored it for so long with Regan. At what point did he owe it to humanity, to all of them, to step back and let this happen? “I can’t tell anymore what’s crueler. Stopping it or letting it continue,” he said, voice small and tight. He didn’t want to betray too much emotion. “I hate that she has to-- I still haven’t asked for details so I don’t--” It was something he hadn’t tackled yet. And not something he was sure he wanted to, not yet. “But I do understand why it has to. So trust that much.” He knew hard training. If anyone understood having to go through hard and painful training to come out better for it, he did. And he was the first to say that it was lack of control that made werewolves dangerous. So how could he sit here, think that Regan didn’t need control. He understood.

Or Kaden thought he did. “What do you mean she can’t--” Her words gripped him like a chokehold and he went still. What they’d all said, how much he didn’t want to know about this, he assumed it was physical damage they were referring to. And sure, they were right, the thought of her body mangled and torn into, the thought of her suffering made him want to rip apart whoever was causing it. But physical damage healed. This, what Deirdre just suggested, it--- He couldn’t move. Who was Regan if she didn’t care about people? What was the point if she couldn’t give a shit about anyone? What about her family? Why was he even trying if the ‘after’ Morgan kept talking about would leave Regan unable to care about hi-- No. He clenched his jaw and fought against the tightness in his chest. Deirdre was the last person he was going to cry in front of. He took the tightness and balled it into a fist and punched the barrier. It didn’t give. It didn’t even show any wear. There was no evidence left to make him feel better other than the throbbing through his knuckles.

Kaden shook out his hand, welcome for the pain as a distraction, still unable to meet Deirdre’s eyes. “You found a way to care about Morgan. Even-- I mean, you let her in. Somehow. I--” The tightness was back, this time around his throat. Or maybe it never left. “You care about Regan. You care enough to-- I mean you don’t sound like you want to do this.” He inhaled deep. He refused to do the stupid breahting exercises that Regan had treid to show him. They all collectively knew it was crap. All of it. “I wouldn’t want to. I mean. Not that I’d-- I just mean. Hunter training. I swore I’d never. So I get if--” Even without finishing a sentence completely, small bits of green picked their way around the circle. It didn’t matter. “Morgan keeps trying to tell me there’s an ‘after’ to look forward to. I’m-- I’m terrified of what ‘after’ looks like. For both of us.” He caught a glimpse of Deirdre, shut down, turned away, closed off. He clenched his jaw and wished like hell there was no part of it that felt like looking in a mirror, though maybe a more distant one. “For all of us.”

The answer was clear to Deirdre; too obvious to be kept to herself. “Letting it continue is worse,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Ignorance is a gift.” There were no winners here, exactly, but she knew her truth. And her truth was rolled with anger--she loathed the trees that watched in silence, the dirt that erased her evidence, and her family that looked the other way. It was far worse to be that child, naive and desperate, eating the words of the adults around her, who spoke often of how normal her pain was to be. It was worse to have her trust twisted, her hope of something better crushed so deliberately. It was worse that they knew, and didn’t act. It would always be worse. “I don’t know what your parents did to you,” she whispered, “I thought you might know...how truly terrible it all is.” And if he knew, if he thought about it for a second longer, he might realize what terrible curse it was to have even the sliver of truth that he did. All she could remember now was the faint whispers of a girl that wanted to be saved, the one whose eyes were often lost in the horizon beyond her cramped, creaky bedroom. Somedays, it was as if that child had never existed at all, if it weren’t for the memory of comfort burning in her ears. They told her it would be okay, and that was worse. It would always be. The pain she could forget, if she allowed herself to, but their lies she could never.

Even if Regan wasn’t a child, she was still as vulnerable, as susceptible to the lies others would find themselves virtuous in giving. And what exactly did Deirdre tell the man that loved Regan? Did she lie too? Did she let him think about it, for just a second, looking at the cold woman in front of him, to piece together the truth on his own? There was no magical, kind, better way. There was no saving them, not anymore. She sat up, deliberate in the way her gaze stayed far away from him, and stuck on the muddy ground instead. Distantly, she heard a dull thud, and imagined a number of places that could have stirred it. She didn’t dare chase an explanation for the sound. “Regan and I are very different. She became a doctor, I chose to look at people like numbers--things. After roughly seventeen years, to much heart-ache, I learned how to love someone--and most of the time I feel like I’m doing it wrong anyway. Does that sound right to you? Do you really want to compare me to her? Do you really want to disappoint yourself like that?” She reached out and plucked a dead leaf from where it had been trapped, crushed and embedded, in the mud. She pulled at the dull green, tearing the leaf apart absently. “‘After’ is an endearingly Morgan-like answer. There is no after, Kaden. This is it. This is all it is. This is all it ever is.” When the leaf was nothing but shred, she allowed the pieces to slip between her fingers, fluttering back to the mud below. “No, I don’t want to be doing this. But what I want doesn’t matter, it never has. I do what must be done. And I can tell you, with certainty, that there is no after. This---” She laughed bitterly, gesturing around, “--isn’t even an ‘after’ for me. Control will always be a life-long quest, I can’t forget who I am, not for one second.” Finally, she turned to him, her face impassive, as she had willed it to be--as she had been trained to make it. “If you want to believe in happy endings Kaden, then don’t let me stop you. One of us should be a little hopeful, for Regan’s sake.”

Deirdre picked another leaf from the ground, twirling it around in her fingers. This one was older, and had begun its slow process of decomposition. “Don’t be scared of Fate, it isn’t kind enough to care what you think. You can run yourself to the ground worrying, best to just hope instead. It’d save your heart some trouble. Whatever is going to happen to us has already begun...we’re all just leaves, Kaden, might as well fall gracefully.”

The response he got was not the response Kaden expected. The only thing he had been told more often by now than “he didn’t want to know,” was that “he couldn’t interfere.” “But I tho--” The words couldn’t leave his lips. It wasn’t true. He didn’t think. He hadn’t thought. He was doing everything in his power not to, wasn’t he? For as much as he imagined and fretted, there were spaces in his mind too dark to touch, too deep and tucked away to see. Her words reached into them like a hand, yanking them out of their graves lest they consume him and swallow him whole. What his parents did to him. It hit him like a chill down his spine colder than any he felt near any monster. He didn’t dwell long on what it was they did to him for any longer than he had to. Because they did what they had to. And that was that. Even then, he knew. He felt what she said. He knew he never wanted a child. For the simple fact he never wanted to train a hunter.

Kaden missed the moment that he’d slumped to the forest floor, hands resting on his knees, back against the barrier, eyes glazed and staring straight ahead. She thought he might know how truly terrible it was. Which was exactly what had scared him from the beginning. If he did, that was too much. And if he didn’t, it was even worse. The trees moved side to side. No, that wasn’t right. He was shaking his head. “She needs control. For-- She needs it. She--” An early phrase rang in his ears. Ignorance. Was it a gift? Would Regan be suffering so much now if she hadn't been kept in the dark? Or had it been the only thing to allow her some happiness? The last she’d ever have before-- Something bubbled up to his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was bitterness or bile. He swallowed it back either way.

A puff of air huffed through his nose, something that could be a laugh in another context. “Of course I don’t want to compare her to you. I’d never date you in a million years.” Mostly because she was Deirdre but also because he heard too many mirrors of his own thoughts from her mouth, too many things that felt like eerie echoes of his own life. Still, his attempt at lightening the mood left him feeling just as weighed down and sunk into the ground as before. Maybe more. There was no after. He’d known it. Had he thought about it. He’d known all along. Kaden didn’t get to keep anything good, not for long. Regan was too good for him in every sense. It wasn’t fair that she didn’t get to hold onto that sense of normal she desperately craved, didn’t get to have her life be a little easier. “I should have known it was too good to be true. About as real as the charger rock she made me.” Morgan was truly amazing at building up hope. Sometimes he wondered at what cost. His eyes remained fixed on the blur of trees in front of him, unfocused. It didn’t matter what was there, not really. He could look closer, focus on the branches or the leaves, the patterns of the bark if he wanted. But it didn’t matter. What the fuck did? What was the point? At least when he was a hunter and nothing more, he had that much. He had a purpose, a direction, clear and lasered in. Who cared if he was really happy? “My mother always told me that happiness is silly and fleeting. Family and honor and duty is what’s left when the frivolousness of ‘joy’ fades.” Did he have any of that to even fall back on anymore? He had barely any family to speak of and his honor and duty were tarnished by now at best.

“There’s a reason I made a point not to care about anyone. Ever.” Kaden wasn’t sure why he was speaking, why the words spilled out. He didn’t need her to know or care or, god forbid, sympathize. “There was a fucking good reason.” Because it hurt. When things went wrong, when they went wrong like they always did, it just hurt. The highs? Fuck the highs, the lows were prolonged and sank deeper than the pit burring through his stomach. “I forgot how to stop. I used to know.” The few bursts of laughter that escaped his lips were hollow. If he really wanted to stop caring, he knew a way. Or rather Deirdre did. Make it joint fucking lessons. That’d really solve their problems, wouldn’t it? No one would care and nothing would matter and life could go back to being simple and clean. There was right and there was wrong, black and white, and the middle was all bulslhit. He tried to focus on the leaf twisting in her hand, but his vision wouldn’t let him. All he saw were blurs of the swirling brown and yellow, small tinges of red. “Yeah I don’t think graceful is a word that’s ever applied to me. Guess I’m shit out of luck.”

Silence filled their circular prison, interrupted with half-sentences that died against Kaden’s lips before he dared finish his thoughts. Deirdre could hear the tenseness in his voice, the confusion and anger that broiled beneath it. She imagined his face was going through quite the journey, but she wouldn’t look up to check. She had no fondness for the way his lips pursed or brows furrowed, and she was happy enough leaving her vision of him blank. She felt that she knew some strange corner of his mind too well, and wouldn’t risk knowing any more. It was his mention of Morgan—indirectly—that made her attention snap towards him. She bristled, unsure why it felt like an insult, but uninterested in challenging the feeling anyway. “Don’t say that,” she hissed, “about Morgan she—“ But what was she to say? Often her hope felt too good to be true, too good to be deserved. She had her own struggles with accepting it, but she loved it all the same. “I can be defeatist. I know that.” Morgan had said as much. “But she...Morgan is...she’s good. The things she says, sometimes they sound like a dream, but they’re worth believing in.” She swallowed, turning her attention back to the leaves and the mud. She’d lost her staring spot and was desperate to find a new one. It occurred to her briefly, between deciding which patches of dirt would be better to look at, that it was funny how quickly her tone changed where Morgan was concerned. But whatever that meant, she didn’t think about it too long. The equation was simple, she didn’t much enjoy anyone thinking Morgan’s ideas were pointless, even if she had dismissed them herself. “I know what I said. But I don’t see things like Morgan does. I don’t feel an ‘after’, I just feel like nothing. All the time. Except—“ she swallowed. “Except when I’m with her. I feel things then, I feel like a person. And it’s that feeling...that’s dangerous. To be a person, who loves and cares, is dangerous. It’s what the screams feed on.” It was what she was teaching Regan to ignore, and by providence, what she was remembering how to ignore for herself.

She tilted her head up, laughing into the cold sky. “Fates, my mother says the exact same thing about happiness.” Deirdre’s stomach churned, she snipped whatever invisible tether of connection might have been forming between them—one shared shitty childhood experience didn’t make them equals. But she understood as deeply as one could why he didn’t want to care for people, and why he couldn’t stop caring now. Finally, she turned to him. “Being happy is nice, isn’t it? Being loved. Loving someone...some people, even. Caring about them. Having that kind of life is nice, isn’t it? It feels wrong, like maybe you should be off doing the killing you were born to do instead of cuddling on a couch. Like maybe you’re betraying yourself, your family, everything you were born to do—Fates, betraying humanity, even.” She offered a small smile, as weak as it was fleeting. “I know what I said. I know what I’ve been saying. But this isn’t about me, or how I feel. That’s not your concern. The truth is, Morgan taught me how to love and care. And when Regan has learned control, if you’re still around, you can teach her again, just the same. And I promise you, lessons in love are far more valuable. You’re not graceful, no. You’re terribly clumsy. But so is life, so is love. And she needs clumsy; earnest. She needs you. You’re not out of luck, Kaden. As long as you’re in love, you’re the luckiest.”

Deirdre erupted in laughter, as if possessed by the spirit of madness. Hot tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, streaming down her face in much of the same clumsy way she described; stuck where she wiped them haphazardly, leaving salty traces against her lips, free to discredit all she claimed about coldness and unfeeling. “Fates,” she cursed, wiping at more tears, “I know what I was saying. I know how stupid this sounds coming from me now. But you mentioned Morgan’s charge rock and I remembered...I don’t know a thing….and also that Morgan has wonderful ideas, always. And especially about that rock.” Deirdre sighed, confident enough that she wasn’t an embarrassing mess of tears and snot. “We just sound so fucking depressing that I couldn’t take it anymore. I know you want to be happy, Kaden. And I know that you can’t go back to your old life of hunting and not caring because this new one is so much better. And I know now that you have to love Regan more than ever, better than ever, because she needs it. She’s hurting, exactly as bad as you think she is, probably exactly as bad as you did once, and you shouldn’t listen to whatever crap I tell you because that’s the only thing that matters—you love Regan, she loves you.”

Deirdre stood and brushed her hands clean against her pants. “You ought to believe in yourself a little more, Kaden. So what if she forgets how to care about you? When you met her, I don’t think she had a single friend. Now she’s got White Crest’s broodiest boyfriend and a gaggle of people she feels the need to distance from in the first place. You clearly seduced her from a lonely life of autopsies, you can seduce her from one of ritual pain. Don’t look to me for some magical charge-rock hope, I’ve got none to spare for you, but if you’d just take a second to think, you’d realize you already have it.” She sighed, itching to see where the green was now, though wholly afraid it hadn’t moved at all.

Kaden was startled by the sudden ire thrown his way. Had he even said anything disparaging about his friend? Nothing he said was untrue. Hell, he still had the stupid rock. Right. He remembered why he kept it. Because she-- Right. He used his palm to wipe away the stupid tear that broke through his defenses. “She is good. Hell he’s talked me off a few ledges. I know that.” Odd enough, though, Deirdre’s words had a smile creeping onto his face. It wasn’t the most lighthearted topic, sure, but he could feel how much Deirdre cared for his friend. It was good to see and know. She deserved it; someone who loved her back as much as she loved her. Even if he was sure Deirdre thought she deserved better. Hell, he thought that Regan did most of the time. “Maybe it is dangerous. But I think she’d say it’s worth the risk. I mean, all things considered.” He picked up a stick from the ground and started scratching small lines in the dirt, watched it break up, shift around and move away with each line he made. He knew he considered every second he was with Regan worth the risk. And she was far riskier to be around at the moment. There was no doubt in his mind Morgan would say the same. Only likely she’d say it more verbosely and poetically. That was certain something she and Deirdre had in common that he lacked.

Her laughter was almost off-putting, uncomfortable at first but Kaden couldn’t argue the need to relieve some tension and found his laughter following behind hers. “Funny, I don’t think either of our mothers would be thrilled to know they had anything in common.” Somehow that was easier to absorb than the rest of what she said. Kaden kept his focus on the lines he was drawing into the dirt. Deirdre talked a lot. A lot. And all of it was... She didn’t mean it, right? She was working so hard to chip away at Regan’s humanity, to bottle her up. Why would she push him to undo it? It definitely didn’t seem like lessons in love and compassion were more important at the moment, either. If they were then fuck all of them, they wouldn’t have to do any of this. And, really? He’d have to teach Regan to love and care? “Right. Who the fuck am I to teach anyone about love and caring.” The laughter was half hearted by then. Regan needed him. He was the luckiest. Neither of those felt true just then. He hadn’t missed the comment of “if you’re still around.” He fucking hated the sound of that. It felt like a balancing act of who would push away who first. Both because they stupidly cared too much and were afraid of hurting each other. Putain, all of this was too complicated. Maybe the real reason he avoided commitment was due to all the fucking complications. It was certainly part of it. “Come on, I’m only lucky if she loves me. Otherwise I’m just an idiot.”

The lines in the ground were no longer lines anymore but one big rut that he kept digging farther and farther into the ground. “Yeah well when we’re both surrounded by death so much, it’s hard to be a lively bunch.” It was a poor attempt at a joke but he laughed at it anyway. “You seem to know a lot about me, huh?” She wasn’t wrong, though. He did want to be happy and he wasn’t sure if he could ever go back to his old life. And he did feel like it was a betrayal to everything he was taught to do and be. He kind of hated how much she understood about him. And it sure sounded like it was coming from a place of real understanding, like she was talking about herself. He wasn’t sure if he hated knowing that would push that stupid green farther along the circle’s edge. “It’s a lot fucking harder to do when it hurts. I never jumped into any of this shit because. It hurts. When things go wrong.” And they always did. It was his life. Things always went wrong. “But I’ll keep that in mind. You know. While you’re torturing my girlfriend.” He wasn’t sure if it was funny or not. He wasn’t sure if he cared either way or if that was his intent. It likely didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything.

It was truly impressive how much Deirdre could talk. And how she could still insult him all while trying to encourage him. “I am not the broodiest. Fuck off,” Kaden said, taking a small pebble and chucking it towards her, mostly in jest, a small attempt at a smile on his face. It didn’t linger long as he looked up at her, still sitting and leaning against the invisible wall of the circle. It was strange to have Deirdre of all people giving him a pep talk, telling him he could and even should hold onto Regan. “I don’t want to be the one to undo it all. To leave her a target for wardens and dangerous to everyone around her. And fuck I don’t want to prolong this shit either.” He shook his head and looked to the sky, hoping that this wasn’t the moment that the barrier gave way. “Maybe I’m just being selfish.” Everything Deirdre said seemed to suggest the opposite. But how much stock did he really put in her words? He was shirking his duty for love and “happiness,” something that his mother would tell him was pointless and completely selfish. It was certainly affecting his hunting, there was no doubt there. Worrying if he died absolutely made him worse at what he did and had to do. On top of that, the love and happiness he was chasing might be pointless and might damage the very thing Regan was trying to, undo the sacrifice she was making. It was probably true. He was being selfish. And he was so selfish that he wasn’t going to quit now. “Well one thing’s for sure. We have to get her out of that fucking shed.”

“You’re lucky still by virtue of her having loved you at all.” Deirdre breathed, done with her monologue of strange, discordant thoughts. She winced at his mention of torture, as true as it was, nodded at his admission of fearing pain, and laughed again, as he continued. She dodged his pebble narrowly, holding her tongue at chiding him for throwing it in the first place. If she could toss him down the stairs, he could get away with one pebble toss. She didn’t have the energy to argue it much, anyway. “Who would’ve thought that a man so accustomed to pain would be afraid of it?” She didn’t have any poetic observation to make about it, she just laughed, clutching her stomach and falling over. It wasn’t the funniest thing, him seemingly having only two outfits he wore on rotation was funnier, but she could stop laughing about it. She had begun the noisy process of expelling their self-pity out, and as her laughter hiccuped to a stop and her vision focused on the sky--she thought that maybe, just right now, Kaden wasn’t so bad.

“It’s not undoing it, by the way.” Deirdre sighed, standing up and brushing herself off. “I’m no more a target now than I was the months before I knew Morgan. It’s giving her a life, Kaden. You know how empty your own life was before finding friends and love here, I’m sure. Or even how empty her own life must have been. You don’t want that for her. You’re not being selfish. You love her, you should know better.” She smiled, picking her jacket off the floor and slipping it on after another bout of vigorous dusting. Beyond him, she could see finally that the green had crept up to its end. She didn’t like what that meant, emotionally, but she was pleased to think of what it would mean physically. “Or maybe you are being selfish. But a little selfishness is due; if wanting Regan is going to save her life, then be selfish. Ask for her. Love her. Brood in her arms--” She waved her hand in the air, “I don’t know, what ever it is that you two do.” The rules she set in place for Regan, all the unfeeling she had to do, all the hating herself, and then not caring about herself, she knew she was undermining it right then and there by telling her boyfriend of the value of teaching her the opposite, but she didn’t care. She wanted to be different from her mother in some way, help Regan well and truly, and this was it. She trusted Kaden; she trusted him to love Regan against all this pain, against the things he’d been taught. She trusted him to believe in her, believe that she would come back to herself one day. And she trusted him to wait. After all of it, if it was possible for Regan to still be in control of her screams, then they’d have proven centuries of banshee training wrong. Maybe there was, maybe there could be, a better way.

Deirdre smiled, “Kaden...I appreciate you.”

“Yeah but past tense still fucking sucks.” The stick he was scratching into the dirt with snapped. Kaden sighed. Stupid piece of shit. He was curious to know how much longer they’d be here, how far they’d come, but he was entirely afraid to look and opted instead to lean his head back against the barrier. “Physical pain is much easier than this emotion crap,” he retorted. He had a feeling some people would disagree, but physical pain he trained for. The body helped minimize it in a lot more ways than people always realized and it was a matter of tapping into that, making it work for you. Emotions? They were bullshit and complicated and stupid. And he hated how much more value he wanted to place on them recently. The physical pain would end. Emotional crap lingered. Death taught him that, ironically. The same way a harbinger of death taught him what the highs felt like, the rewards that strung him along long enough to put up with the pain.

Kaden wanted to argue with her. It took her years to get to that point. And he got the impression that she didn’t fall into Morgan’s arms overnight. He took the stupid stick and whipped it away, watched it bounce off the far end of the barrier. “You know, for someone just as new to this love shit as me, you sure do know a lot.” He didn't have to look to know a bit of the green receded. Fuck it, he needd to get one shot in. Just one. “You might have a point. I really figured you were the one of the two of us saving her, to be honest.” He shrugged. Sure it was destroying her in a way and-- fuck, that hurt to think about, but she couldn’t live her life in fear of what she was or what she could do. “I still don’t know the details, you know. Too much of a coward to ask. Considered getting you to bind me from fucking it up but here the fuck we are. I can’t figure you out, you know. Sometimes I think I get it and then you fucking throw me.” The laughter bubbled up inside him. “Sometimes literally down the goddamn stairs.” This whole thing was absurd. Mad to think that he was listening to Deirdre and that the things she said were something close to nice and maybe even encouraging. Then Kaden rolled his eyes at her suggestion of brooding in Regan’s arms and never felt more relief to do so. This, this was right. This was how he remembered Deirdre. Overbearing and frustrating. It truly warmed his heart to remember it. “Anyway, I’ll keep that in mind.”

It took everything in Kaden not to roll his eyes again. “I appreciate you, too. I gu--” The words turned into a shocked shout as he tumbled backwards, thwacking hard on the forest floor. “Putain de merde!” Stupid fucking witch circle had to screw him over one more time. He should have been watching the green but he had to admit, he didn’t like having visible evidence that he understood Deirdre. Or vice versa. It was awful. “Let’s never talk about this again,” he mumbled as he stood up and brushed himself off.

Deirdre wasn’t sure what Kaden thought would happen when the circle fell away and he was still leaning against it, but for everything that had happened, she watched him tumble backwards with unhinged delight. She scurried quickly out of the old circle, wanting to be completely sure she couldn’t be caught back inside before she opened her mouth. Laughter came first, sharp and bubbling, then it was the jeering. “Fates, I love watching you fall down.” And then, finally, the desire to undo all the work they had done and the resounding truth in her head that no, wait, she did actually hate Kaden. “Oh! And you stink! And your hair is stupid! And I hope you trip into a pile of shit!” Even to herself, her words and voice sounded childish, but she didn’t care. The delight from being freed, watching Kaden tumble down as she thought he would, and the ability to cover up her past kindness with petty insults was too great. She wasn’t his friend. She hadn’t just gained an ‘understanding’ of him. He sucked. And he was stinky. And he was human and she hated him and his dumb leather jackets. “Regan should find someone better.” She laughed, “maybe someone with more of a sense of balance, hm?” She pointed at him, “and I’m not saving Regan, I’m ruining her life!” That one wasn’t an insult but she felt like correcting Kaden on his point anyway. “Well, I’m going to leave now, Kady. I’ll hold the memory of you falling over fondly, human.” And though she felt far more like a pixie fluttering away after tying a human’s shoe laces together, she would have rather felt gleefully unlike herself than accept that some stupid witch’s stupid therapy circle of stupidness, had worked. It hadn’t. Kaden still sucked. She still wanted to stab him. And he was stinky.

“Fuck off!” Kaden shouted back at her as he pulled himself out of the circle. Why he ever thought for any span of time that she had anything at all in common with him, he didn’t know. The only thing they would ever share was how much they loathed each other and their unfortunate overlap in people they cared for. “Yeah, well Morgan deserves much better than you!” he shot back, straightening his jacket and dusting off the last of the leaves. If only he carried iron on him, he’d love to get a shot in, maybe remind her what he was capable of. The thought didn’t sit great for a moment, but fuck it, it wasn’t him that was fucked up. It was her. Clearly. He stormed off, not even sure why he was out there anymore. It didn’t matter. So long as he was far away from her.

#wickedswriting #writing #chatzy #what is this feeling #deathduty #deirdre #UNADOLTERATED LOATHING

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thecleverdame · 5 years

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Caught - Part One

Sam x Reader

Summary: You're arrested and interrogated as an accomplice to the notorious Winchester brothers.

Warning: Talk of past violence, death of parents, rape and abuse.

Words: 3.5k

Beta: ilikaicalie

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“Y/N.” Detective Marlow says your name as if you’ve been sent to the principal's office, slapping a file folder on the table in front of you with the flare of a television detective. “I have to admit, I’ve been looking forward to the day I got to talk to you in person.”

“Well,” you sit back in your seat, holding out your hands for her to uncuff you. “I hope I live up to expectations.”

“I have no doubt you will.” She grins, unlocking the restraints. “I’d ask if I need to worry about you, but you’re not the violent one. Sam and Dean take care of the dirty work, don’t they?”

You try not to react when she says their names. The police don’t really care about you, but they’ve got a hard on for the Winchesters. Bringing in the famous brothers would make for a pretty sizeable notch in someone’s belt, commendations up the wazoo.

This bitch wants the big prize.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” You blink and she snorts in response.

“That how you wanna play it?” She pinches her lips, nodding to herself. “You know, you don’t have to be afraid of me. I know what happened to you. I’ve got a pretty good idea of what you’ve been through and I want to help you.”

“Whatever you think you know, you don’t,” you spit back.

“Tell you what,” Marlow offers. “I’m just gonna ask you some questions and you can choose what you want to tell me. Sound good?”

“I don’t think I have a choice.” Shifting the chair you look around the windowless room, a touch of claustrophobia setting in.

“Did Sam kill your family by himself or was Dean with him?” She hits you with that one out of nowhere.

Your entire body goes stiff, closing your eyes for a brief moment and sucking in a breath to control your emotions. It’s been almost five years but it never gets any easier.

“Get fucked,” you grit, leering at her.

“I’ve got a theory about the boys,” she continues while you find a chip in the paint on the wall, a focal point to keep yourself grounded. “Everyone thinks Dean is the crazy one, a real piece of work. But I think Dean’s the only one who’s gotten caught. I think Sam is the real monster. He’s a sadist and murderer. Sam likes to hurt people.”

“Dean does have questionable impulse control,” you smirk, forcing any reaction other than crawling under the table. While you come off as having a tough exterior the truth is that you’re not good at this kind of thing, your anxiety is spiraling, heart rate picking up to a gallop.

“Let me tell you what I think happened and then you can fill in the details.” She flips the chair around, straddling it. “We theorize that Sam picked you out ahead of time. He stalked you, watched you for weeks. We have him on CCTV waiting for you to leave the gym, following you home from the grocery store. Sam watched you for a long, long time. He waited until the perfect moment and then he broke into your apartment and slaughtered your parents and the family dog.”

“You don’t know anything about what happened that night.” You swallow the grief that instantly bubbles up from your gut.

“But we do know. We know he dragged you out of the building kicking and screaming.”

She methodically pulls several photos from the folder, placing them in a line face-up on the table. They’re a series of still shots from the grainy black and white security camera in your parent's apartment building. In the first picture, Sam has you by the arm, both of you are covered in blood. His face is stoic but you’re in obvious distress. In the second you’re pulling away from him, trying to run. In the third, Sam has you slung over his shoulder.

“I know you didn’t want to go with him.” She taps the last photo of your ass in the air.

“You don’t know shit,” you murmur, clasping your hands together in your lap.

“Everyone thought you were dead. We assumed Sam used you for whatever he wanted and left your body somewhere. You were in the wind for almost five years. You can imagine how surprised we were when we ran prints from the museum B&E and it came back with three matches. Sam, Dean and you.”

“Honestly,” you shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Five Years Ago...

You’re ninety-nine percent sure you’re having an out of body experience.

The car jerks as the big guy in the driver's seat hits the accelerator. The gears shift stubbornly, your body lurching forward against the seat belt. It’s a car he hot-wired a state back. It seems possible he might not even know how to drive a stick, but that’s not stopping him from pushing the speedometer past 90 miles per hour...then 100. You wonder for a split second what kind of damage there would be if you jumped from a vehicle at this speed. Visions of flayed skin and bloody pavement snap you back to the reality around you.

Please God, don’t let him be some kind of sadistic killer. You owe me.

You sit, hands folded tight in your lap, and watch the cityscape whizzing past. Squinting as the wind whips through the open window. The two of you are driving fast and far: destination unknown. The sun is beginning to set over the horizon, throwing a golden glow that would be picturesque if your mother’s blood wasn’t drying under your fingernails.

“Where are we going?” Your voice falls deadpan, flatlined like the rest of your dormant body that refuses to move. There are a myriad of questions that you know you should be asking; for instance, a simple:

Who the hell are you?

What the fuck happened back there?

Can you pull over so I can puke?

A whole other side of your brain whispers for you to be quiet. Maybe he’ll let you go if you just sit still and shut up.

“Who are you?” You let your eyes stutter to the side to cheat a look at him. His grip on the steering wheel is so tight his knuckles are turning white, skin ready to split like a cheap dress tearing at the seams.

After a moment his mouth twitches, followed by a cock of his head.

“I’m Sam.”

The dark aggression in his stare has vanished. The blood-chilling glare he wore standing in your home earlier that night is just a memory. Judging by the fact that you’re still in one piece you hope he’s not an immediate threat.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he confirms right on cue.

His voice is surprisingly soft for all the yelling he’d been doing at your house. Memories of his booming voice mix with bloody screams – your mother pleading, begging for her life. Then the gurgling sound when her throat was - you push it back out of your head. It’s too much.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the rearview mirror and it’s only then the realization hits that you’re having a panic attack. Your body feels like dead weight, calm as a cucumber; however, your reflection clearly shows your red, swollen face covered in tears and shaking violently.

This all feels like waking up from a dream.

Your body begins to hyperventilate and you’re powerless to stop it.

“Where are you taking me?” you plead in labored breaths. “You have to pull over, I have to…I have to call my aunt.”

“I can’t do that.” He chews his lip and looks at you with genuine concern. “You need to calm down, you’re gonna pass out.”

“My family…” your words are swallowed by your throat as you struggle for breath.

He reaches over placing a large hand on your thigh, squeezing to get your attention. “Hey, look at me...right here…I’m gonna make sure you’re okay, stay with me…”

He’s still talking when your vision goes hazy and you fall into an abyss. The last physical sensation you have is his hand violently shaking your arm and then everything fades to black. Out like a light in the passenger seat of a stolen BMW, next to a strange man with a destination yet to be determined.

Present Day

“He really did a number on you, huh?” The Detective places both forearms on the table, leaning closer. “I’m not even going to pretend that I know what you went through the last couple of years. I can only imagine the kind of horrors the Winchesters put your through. But I need you to think clearly now. This your chance to get your life back.”

She thinks Sam abducted you, they all do. The police are convinced that Sam murdered your family, kidnapped and raped you and then somehow brainwashed you into staying with him. You’ve read the police reports and seen the warrants for his arrest. They think he’s the worst of the worst.

“Sam would never hurt me.” You sit back in the chair. “He’d never make me do anything I didn’t want to do.”

“Oh really?” She pouts out her bottom lip, turning over her iPad. “I wanna show you something.”

She swipes her fingers over the screen, pulling up a video and turning it around for you to watch.

It’s a bloodbath right from the get-go. Dean shoots a man, the overnight front desk at a shitty motel, in the back of the head at point blank range. Sam not far behind and he’s got you by the arm.

You glance up at Marlow, shifting in your seat, unsure of what you’re about to watch.

The three people on the screen are not you, Sam and Dean. They’re leviathan that crossed the country on an interstate killing spree that nearly got you all arrested. But there’s no explaining that to the detective.

Sam stops to yell something at you. The video is silent but you can see Fake Sam in your face, pointing a finger before shoving you backward violently. When you stand up and shout back at him, he slaps you across the face so hard you spin and collapse to the ground.

Fake Sam pulls you back up as you fight him, grabbing you by the hair until you have to stand on your toes. He releases your hair as one hand curls around your throat. Your mouth opens and closes like a gasping fish, clawing at his hands. Once you’re compliant, he bends you over the desk, pinning your arms above your head.

You look away, unable to keep from sneaking glances as the Sam on the screen pulls your jeans down and rapes you.

If you didn't know better, you’d think he was a monster too.

“You wanna see the money shot or should I stop now?” she asks, tapping the screen to pause the video. “Toward the end, things get even harder to watch. You must have said something to really piss him off because he...well I’m sure you remember. But he’d never hurt you right?”

The leviathans did this on purpose, it was all part of a series of calculated acts to make Sam and Dean look like the worst possible guys on the planet. It did the trick, they’re still at the top of the most wanted list.

“We’re into roleplaying,” you retort, feeling the heat of frustration rise in your cheeks.

“Yeah,” she snorts. “I bet.”

Five Years Ago

Your father’s voice brings you back, calling out of the pitch black and beckoning you back to the land of the living. He sounds the same as when he woke you up for school when you were a kid. Every morning he’d whisper the same thing; open your eyes sugar, time to face the world.

When you come to, the pounding in your head hits you like a freight train. Then the immediate overwhelming odor of alcohol that makes you want to wretch. You squish a sour face, slowly opening your eyes after a series of painful blinks.

The big guy is still there. It was no dream.

Sam is still behind the wheel, but now the car is parked in the lot of a Walgreens. He’s pouring a bottle of rubbing alcohol over his bleeding knuckles like it’s no big deal. You watch in silence as he holds his arm over the pavement and pours again until blood washes away, his hand glistens in the night air.

A minivan pulls up beside you, Sam watches carefully as an intoxicated middle aged man stumbles toward the store. From the full moon overhead you guess it must be well into the night. You clear your throat and he looks back at you.

“You alright?” Sam asks.

He sounds half concerned and half accusatory. As if all this was an inconvenience, somehow your own fault. Like he hadn’t thrown you over his shoulder and carried you kicking and screaming away from your dead family.

“I uh,” you shake your head. “I don’t even know how to begin to answer that.”

“Fair enough,” he nods matter-of-factly and offers you a battered hand mirror from his lap. “I took care of your arm while you were out, you might want to do your own face.”

You glance down to the bandage around your forearm. The assailant sliced you open like melted butter. Lifting the edge of the bandage you can see a series of crude stitches as you cringe.

“That’s gonna be a really awesome scar, dude, thanks,” you huff, shaking your head. Whoever this guy is you should have known he wasn’t going to swing by the emergency room.

“You were out and you just kept bleeding. Sorry.” Sam’s tone is forced. He’s trying to remain cordial, but his non-verbals are howling ungrateful bitch.

The mirror is dirty, but clear enough to get a stomach churning look at yourself. You’re not surprised to find your right eye is swollen, a nasty shade of black. It almost looks as gruesome as the split in your upper lip. Your face inexplicably begins to throb for the first time when you see how bad the damage is.

“Here,” Sam hands you a freshly opened package of aspirin and a bottle of water. You sit in silence as you shift in your seat, wiping your eyes out of habit only to discover your cheeks are wet.

“I didn’t even know I was crying. Jesus Christ.” Your tongue darts to the cut on your lip sending a jolt of pain to every other battered part of your body. “I just, I need you to tell me what’s happening, I don’t…”

“You’re in shock, it’s totally normal after what you just went through.” He doesn’t look at you. You could be wrong but he sounds…irritated. “We can talk about the rest later, when you’re not so worked up.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for helping, or saving me or whatever that was.” You stumble to find the right words.

Sam doesn’t answer; instead he runs a hand through his hair and turns the key in the ignition.

Present Day

“She’s not talking.” Detective Marlow bites off the end of a granola bar, watching you through the one-way glass.

“Does that surprise you?”

“The Winchesters did a number on her.” Marlow’s eyes never leave you, running a hand over her jaw. “This shit we saw on the tapes is just the tip of the iceberg. She’s lived through hell, she survived with those two psychopaths the only way she knew how, she assimilated. You can’t blame her.”

“You’re probably right,” Buck nods. “Poor kid got passed around by two brothers.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Marlow looks at Buck. “Sam Winchester doesn’t strike me as a guy who likes to share his toys. I don’t see him letting Dean anywhere near his little obsession.”

“Well, either way, she’s gonna be a tough nut to crack.” He hikes his pants up under his gut. “We opened her phone. Most of her texts have been erased, but there are a few videos on her Google Drive.”

“Videos of what?”

“Sex, sucking and fucking. Nothing out of the ordinary if Sam wasn’t a world class psycho. But watching these you’d think they were a couple of newlyweds.”

“It looks consensual?” Marlow nods. It doesn’t surprise her. After years of tracking the Winchesters and looking into your disappearance, she’s become convinced that you’re suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. It does make it harder for her to work her angle, she wants to turn you. Get you to talk and kill two birds with one stone. Put the Winchesters behind bars and rescue you from years of assault and abuse.

“You tell me.” Buck taps the screen and a series of moans float out from the speakers.

“Fuck, Sam, so good like that.” Your voice whines.

“Jesus,” Marlow takes the phone, watching a homemade porno of Sam’s face buried between your legs, two bigs hands hooked under your knees, keeping you spread open as he eats you out with unrestrained enthusiasm.

“Please,” you beg, two hands in his hair. “Fuck me.”

“Anything you want, baby.” Sam’s head pops up from between your thighs, smiling with a glistening chin as he crawls over you like a predator, thick shoulders flexing as he gets closer to the camera. “You need my cock tonight?”

“Need you so bad,” you pant, pulling him down into a kiss.

“I don’t need to see any more of this, not right now anyway.” Marlow pushes the phone away.

“That’s not even the good part.” Buck slides the video forward, stopping toward the end.

Sam’s fucking you from behind, curled over your back as you arch back to catch his mouth in a kiss. Your voice is clear as day as you mumble against his lips, “love you so much.”

“I haven’t watched them all yet, but it’s not the only profession of love on these tapes. However this started, she’s all in now. You’re gonna have one hell of a time painting her as the victim to the DA.��

“I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot.” The detective sits down across from you. “I understand you’ve been through more than most people would be able to handle. You don’t think you can trust me and I get that, I do. But all I want is to understand what happened to your family and what happened to you.”

“Stop trying to sweet-talk me.” You glare, clenching your jaw. You hate talking about your family. Sam’s been the only person who can get you to open up about it without falling apart.

“Help me understand why you’re protecting someone who would do such awful things to you?”

“I already told you,” you grit. “Sam isn’t this terrible guy you’re making him out to be.”

“We both watched the same thing.” She taps the iPad. “Look, no judgment from me. You’ve spent a lot of time with the guy. I think, given your circumstances, it’s natural to develop feelings over time. We can talk through this, help me understand what’s really going on here. Why are you covering for him?”

“You wouldn’t understand if I explained it to you.”

“Why? Because you love him?” she presses.

You can’t help your reaction, eyes darting up to look at her face.

You’re not entirely sure Sam is even alive right now. He was in the middle of a knock down, drag-out battle with the Devil himself when you were picked up by police. The last thing you said to you him was see you in a few and now you wish you’d picked a more profound choice of words.

“Because, it’s...complicated,” you shrug, staring at the table.

“Complicated like falling for the guy who beats you? Forced himself on you?” Her voice softens, leaning in. “You know Y/N, just because you’re having consensual sex with him now, doesn’t mean what he did to you back then wasn’t wrong.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You know full well they must have hacked your phone. You should have deleted those fucking videos. “That guy, the one who hurt that girl in the video, that wasn’t Sam and it wasn’t me.”

“Oh?” Marlow nods, sitting back in her seat, crossing arms over her chest.

“Oh?” You parrot back, sick of her condescending tone.

“I think we need to stop.”

“Why the sudden change?” Your eyes narrow, senses on high alert.

“Full transparency,” she leans forward, sliding her chair back. “I’m going to ask for a psychiatric evaluation.”

“You think I'm crazy?” You snort.

“No, I think Sam and Dean Winchester did a lot of damage. And we need to know exactly how much.”

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