#recognizing the problem and not turning your back on something is a major theme in atla and y’all are missing the point

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 14

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 8/09/2023

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Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives. 

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: "I figured you wouldn’t want me to choose violence."

I paused my movements, in shock that Justin was walking toward me. He was with a woman and another couple I didn’t recognize. I couldn’t bring myself to move from where I was currently standing in his path. This is the effect he always had on me. I would just shut down. My heart started racing out of control and my breath was catching in my throat. I suddenly felt lightheaded and nauseous. I was one hundred percent about to have a panic attack over this asshole. As he approached, he did a double take, then his eyes locked with mine when he realized it was me.

“Well, I’m surprised to see you here. This isn’t your typical hangout.” 

I didn’t answer him. I just continued to stare at him, wide-eyed with my jaw tightened. I had a sudden urge to punch his smug face as he looked me up and down in the most disgusting way.

“I see you’ve changed up your style. I’ve got to say Talia, not a fan.”

“You think I give a damn about your opinion?” I shocked myself with that response. I was still trying to keep my breathing under control as he stared at me. He was slowly inching closer, attempting to intimidate me like he always did, especially toward the end.  

He reached up to grab a strain of my hair and I smacked his hand away forcefully. 

“I like what you’ve done with your hair. That messy look suits you, these days,” he said matter of factly. 

Justin’s eyes shifted up behind me as he took a step backwards. Dieter put his left arm around my waist, pulling me to him. I leaned into his side, still trying to calm myself. I glanced up at Dieter, he could see the panic on my face.

“She does look amazing, doesn’t she?” Dieter said as he kissed the top of my head. Raising his left hand to brush it through the curls at my shoulder. He turned toward Justin, giving him a brilliant smile as he reached out with his right hand to shake and introduce himself. Justin reached out to return the shake as he took in the sight of the man standing before him. Now it was Justin’s turn to be intimidated and I was loving every second of it. Dieter was smiling, but the blazing look in his darkened eyes said something else. 

Justin looked back to me, that smug look returning. I knotted the back of Dieter’s shirt in my hand, bracing for whatever was to come.

“Well, I see it didn’t take you long to move on, did it darling?” He directed his gaze back to Dieter, “I certainly hope she’s more affectionate toward you than she was with me. She can be kind of a buzzkill.”

I took in a sharp breath. Anger immediately took over any panic I was feeling. Dieter’s grip tightened on my waist when he felt me inch forward. He looked at Justin and smiled again. His reply was controlled and collected. He said it in the same tone that someone would use to make small talk about the weather. 

“I think that may be more of a problem with you than her. She didn’t seem to have any issues showing me affection last night…or this morning,” he leaned forward before he continued, lowering his voice. “You really need an abnormal amount of stamina to keep up with her, so I wouldn’t take it personally.” 

Dieter gave him a quick pat on the shoulder with his right hand as he said the last line, still holding me to his side with the other. My right hand shot up to my mouth to stifle the laugh that nearly burst from my lips. The three people that Justin arrived with also struggled to hide their laughter. Justin’s smug appearance had shifted to an angry glare as he processed Dieter’s words. Dieter looked down at his watch after it pinged indicating he received a text message. 

“Look at that, our table is ready. Please excuse us,” he said as he gave a small wave and smiled again toward the group. We turned to go inside. He placed his arm around my shoulders to pull me tightly against him as we walked. Then, he bent his arm up to put his fingers in my hair, gently pushing my head toward his. He turned and kissed the top of my head again. Once we were inside, I was still recovering from the mild panic attack and also fighting off maniacal laughter. It was a weird mix of emotions that I had never experienced. 

We were led to a table in the back corner of the outdoor patio seating area. I sat down with my back facing toward the building. Dieter pulled his seat over as close as he could to mine and sat down. He still had a decent view of the patio behind me. We sat with our bodies pointed toward each other. The bottom length of our legs was pressed together. Both of us propped our chins on our hands, our faces leaned in close together while I tried to compose myself. His left hand alternated between rubbing my back or neck and twisting a strand of hair in his fingers. I finally spoke up as a smile spread across my face. 

“I can’t believe you said that to him.”    

“Why? Hugs count as affection, right? It wasn’t a lie.” He shrugged with a mischievous grin on his face. All I could do was roll my eyes at him. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what you were insinuating.” I gave him a scolding look as he continued to laugh. 

“I’m sorry, it was either go for the ego or punch that shit-eating grin off his face. I figured you wouldn’t want me to choose violence, though I feel like you almost did.”  He beamed at me proudly. “I may have almost chosen violence. Thank you for stopping me.” I said through an exasperated laugh. 

I noticed Dieter’s eyes shift to the area behind me and there was a brief flash of anger in his eyes. 

“What is it?” I almost turned to look, but he stopped me. 

“Our friend was just seated over near the exit. He’s currently giving us a very menacing look. Just pretend he isn’t there and if he wants to stare, I’ll give him a show.”  

A sly smile spread across his face as his eyes met mine. Then he bit at his bottom lip, giving me a ridiculously dazzling and flirty look. I couldn’t help glancing down at his mouth. As long as he kept looking at me like that, I wasn’t going to have any issues forgetting about Justin. He knew what he was doing. 

He removed his right hand from his chin and used it to entwine his fingers together with my right hand that sat on the table. He began rubbing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. I used my free hand to flip through the menu as he showered me with attention. I knew he was laying it on thick for show, but I couldn’t help enjoying it just the same.

After the waitress took our order, we continued to lean in closely together as we chatted. He would occasionally put his forehead against mine as he rubbed the back of my hair and talked softly about random things. There was the occasional loud laugh from both of us as he told me a few stories about his brother and sister from their childhood. 

Dieter said we had gotten some particularly nasty looks from the peanut gallery when we laughed loudly, which encouraged him to do it more. His chaotic energy was on full display by this point. He even conned me into taking a few obnoxious selfies with us kissing each other on the cheek. After our food came, we sat closely together and sampled each other's meals. He was on a mission to be as nauseating as possible.

When our waitress brought the check, he asked her to bring the check for Justin’s table too. I gave him a questioning look. He smiled, “I just feel like we should be extra nice to our friends over there. It’ll piss him off. Also, it’s kind of a dick power move.”  

“I’m kind of here for it. It’ll definitely piss him off.”   

Once he settled both checks, we got up to head toward the exit. He entwined his fingers with mine once again, making sure that I stayed close to him. As we passed Justin’s table, he looked at us with disgust. Dieter smiled at him and briefly paused to say he hoped they enjoyed their lunch and had a lovely afternoon. I didn’t even bother to look Justin’s way. My eyes were focused on Dieter as he spoke. I had a wry smile on my face as the boyish grin spread across his. He gave them a small wave as we moved toward the exit. How he could keep his composure, I had no idea. As soon as we walked out of the exit I started to cackle with laughter. I could only imagine the look on Justin’s face once he realized Dieter paid for their meal. I’m sure it was priceless. 

I was proud of myself for overcoming whatever hold Justin had over me in that moment. I know it was because of Dieter. I felt confident with him by my side, and he made me realize Justin is nothing but a bully and a coward. He no longer had any control over me, and I was free of him. There was no reason for me to continue to have that type of reaction to him. It would be the last time that would ever happen as far as I was concerned. I made a conscious decision to no longer let the fear of him control my emotions.   

After we left the cafe, we headed to a few furniture stores to look around. I discovered Dieter had a pretty eclectic taste and didn’t seem to be too picky. For the most part, he was more worried about comfort than looks. Though he wasn’t afraid to point out when he thought something was completely ridiculous looking. After the furniture stores, we went to the local home improvement store to look at paint colors. As we stood in front of the wall of paint sample cards, I could see him mentally shutting down. It was a little much for him to process. I felt like he should have a “loading…” sign across his forehead based on his facial expression. I started to laugh at him. He turned to look at me, wide-eyed.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve seen all day. How in the hell do you pick a color? I think I’m over stimulated by this.” 

That did me in and caused me to laugh harder. He just stood there staring at me with an annoyed expression. 

“I’m sorry. It’s not funny. Your face got me though.” 

Once I got him to zone in on a specific color palate, he was able to focus a little better. He finally decided he liked gray with a blue undertone. We found a complementary dark blue color to use as an accent in a few areas. We grabbed some paint samples and small brushes to test the varying shades out on his wall. Afterwards, I led him over to the tile area to look at kitchen backsplashes. His eyes glazed over a little as he looked down the aisle at all the options. He started shaking his head and I’m pretty sure his eye twitched too. 

“You know what, I completely trust you on this one. Pick out whatever you think works. I don’t have the patience for that.” 

I started laughing at him again.

“Ok, fine. I’ll figure that one out on my own. I don’t want to hear any complaints if you don’t like whatever I pick though.” 

“You’ll not hear a peep out of me. I promise.”

“Good. We’re done here then. I feel like I need to get you a snack or something.”

“Oooooh, good idea. Let's go get a smoothie,” he said as he briefly bounced up and down.

“You and Lauren are obsessed with those damn smoothies,” I rolled my eyes at him, “but if it perks you up, then let's do it.” 

“Hey now. I’m sorry if I find paint colors to be boring. I’m perfectly happy to be looking at them with you. Just don’t ask me to pick stuff. I’m too indecisive and it stresses me out. I would much rather watch you pick out paint colors for me than do it myself.” He said matter of factly. 

I shook my head at him as we walked toward the checkout line. About thirty minutes later, we found ourselves sitting in one of the booths at the smoothie place, waiting for our order. As we waited, he filled me in on an upcoming trip he needed to take for work the following week. He said that he had a few appearances, meetings, and a cameo to film. He was going to be gone for a week. He didn’t seem very excited about it. 

“Are you not looking forward to it?”

“I’m a little nervous. I’m dunno why. I’m not sure that I’m looking forward to being gone either. I think I’ve gotten a little spoiled while I’ve been on this break.” 

I reached out and squeezed his hand that was sitting on the table. He turned his hand over and grasped mine in return, not letting go.  

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You just have to get back into work mode. At least it’s a short one. That should help you ease back in before you leave to film your next movie. How long will you be gone for that one again?”   

“It’s scheduled for five months. Sometimes it takes a little longer for the outdoor shoots though. It’s in Canada, so I should be able to easily come visit when we have some down time. Maybe you guys can come visit me too?” 

I gave him an apprehensive look. He knew I hated flying. I would do it for him if he really wanted me to though. I couldn’t tell him no.   

“Of course, I can work from anywhere most days. I may need some tranquilizers for the trip though.” 

He laughed at me, but I was being one hundred percent serious about that. He paused the conversation to go grab our orders, then came back to sit down. He was quiet for a minute, before speaking again. 

“Honestly, I think I’m a little worried about the change of environment. I feel like I’ve made some improvements and I don’t want to fall back into old habits, you know what I mean? I haven’t really been where I’m at now while being away and working. I just hope the change in routine doesn’t mess me up.”    

“I understand that. If at any point you're having a hard time you can call me or your family. I think that’ll help keep you focused and grounded.”

The look on his face told me he wasn’t sure if that would work. 

“Hey, I mean it. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. If you need to chat to take your mind off things, you call me. I’ll answer.”

He shook his head, and his brows drew together as he started to worry at his bottom lip. I hated that he was feeling this way.   

As the day of his departure drew closer, I could tell he was getting more keyed up than usual. It was like he couldn’t sit still. He was constantly looking for things to do to keep himself busy. He spent a lot of time with me, doing everything from cleaning out the pool for me to going grocery shopping with me. He had so much pent-up energy that he couldn’t get rid of. I wasn’t even sure if he was getting enough sleep. 

On Saturday, the day before he left, he gave me the spare key to his house and credit card. I had promised him that I would get started on some things while he was away. I insisted it would be easier to do without him being there, but in reality, I needed something to do to keep myself busy. We had been spending so much time together, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself at the thought of him being gone. It was making me feel a little anxious too.  

We spent the whole evening together. We cooked, ate dinner, then settled in on the couch to watch TV. Though I’m not sure either of us were really paying attention to the show as we stared at the moving pictures on the screen. He sat with his head leaned against my shoulder, unblinking. I kept glancing down at his face. It was expressionless. We had both been unusually silent the entire night, but he wasn’t straying far from me physically. Any chance he got; he was touching me in some way. When he wasn’t, the anxiety was more visible on his face. 

It was near midnight when he finally said that he probably needed to head home since he had an early start. I walked him out to his car. Before he got in, he pulled me into a tight hug, burying his face into my hair. He sat like that for a while. I held him just as tightly, with my face nuzzled into his chest, inhaling his scent. This was another one of those moments where our actions did the talking for us. He didn’t want to leave me. I didn’t want him to leave me. He eventually loosened his hold on me and planted a kiss on my forehead. Moving both hands to the back of my neck as he did so. He sat there for another moment before he spoke. I could feel his lips brush against my hair. 

“I’ll give you a call when I get to the hotel, yeah?” 

I nodded and stepped back so that I could look up at him. The sadness in his eyes had changed to fear. I reached up to cup his cheek, gently rubbing with my thumb, and gave him a reassuring smile. He leaned into my hand before turning to get into his car. He didn’t look my way again.

This was a hundred times harder than New York even though I knew I would see him again. I was worried about him this time. He seemed like he was struggling, and I didn’t know how to fix it for him.    

I had a restless night. I lost count of how many times I woke up. Soon after sunrise, I pulled myself out of bed and made a pot of coffee. I decided to throw myself into my new project. I got dressed in some old clothes and headed to the home improvement store to pick up the paint we had decided on, the backsplash for the kitchen, and all the materials needed for application. I stopped to grab a quick breakfast then headed over to his house. After eating, I started laying out the plastic and taping things off. Once that was done, I removed the hardware from the walls and started sanding things down while I listened to music on Dieter’s Bluetooth speaker system. It was a mindless task that allowed me to zone out and not really think about anything other than the task I was doing. It was exactly what I needed. 

I had been working for some time when my ringing cell drew me out of my intense focus. It was Lauren calling. I leaned over to answer it on speaker phone. 

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’m at Dieter’s, spackling and sanding spots on the wall.”

She was quiet for a minute. 

“Didn’t he go out of town today?”

“He did, I figured it would be a good time to do this since he’s gone.” 

“How are you handling that? Your voice sounds…off.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m a little worried about him. He was having a hard time with it last night.” 

“Have you heard from him since he left?”

“Not yet, he said he would call me today.” I sat down on the floor and sighed heavily. 

“This fucking sucks. This is exactly why we don’t need to do the relationship thing. It’s too much.”

“Honestly, I don’t think the relationship component would really change anything at this point. You two got it bad and I don’t understand why you're fighting it.” 

I sighed again, “That’s not true. I’m just worried about him is all it is.” 

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, honey. Do you need help with anything?” 

“No, I’ve got it covered. I’ll be over here if you need anything.” 

“Alright, text me if you need me.”

I hung up the phone and sat there looking around. I was being so meticulous; it didn’t even look like I had accomplished much. I gave a huff to myself before getting back to work. I worked until it was nearing dinner time. I took a brief break to order a pizza. I sat playing a game on my phone until it arrived. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. I ended up devouring several slices. Just as I was walking over to get back to work, my phone started ringing with an incoming facetime call. It was Dieter. I rushed to answer it, almost tripping over the plastic laying on the floor. 

“Hey,” I said breathlessly after the video connected.

“Hola, mi estrella, qué estás haciendo?”

I raised my eyebrows at him and laughed, “What?” I asked. He chuckled in response.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m working on your kitchen.” 

“Wait, you’re doing it yourself?”

“Yeah, how else did you think it was gonna get done?” I laughed at him.

“I thought you were gonna hire someone to do it?”

“Noooo. I’m doing it myself. I like doing this stuff.” 

“What’s on your face?” I reached up to wipe my cheek, just now realizing something was there.

“It’s dust, I’ve been spackling and sanding.” He laughed at me.

“Well, if I had known you were gonna do it yourself, I would have told you to wait and helped you.”

“No, you would hate it. This is not your idea of fun,” I said with a chuckle.

The video image started to jump around for a moment as he laid down on the bed. He started to fill me in on his day of travel and the few meetings he had. I worked as we talked. He seemed better today, less anxious. I was happy about that. Before we knew it, two hours had passed, and it was getting kind of late. Our phone batteries were not happy either.  

“It’s getting late. How long are you planning to work on that?” I shrugged. 

“Why don’t you just stay at my place tonight. No sense in you being out alone this time of night.”

“I live like three minutes away, it’s fine. Besides, I need to shower, and I need clothes.”

“Use mine. I don’t care,” he said as he shrugged. I gave an exasperated chuckle at his persistence. 

“I’ll think about it.” The thought of curling up in his bed in one of his shirts did sound very appealing.  

“You’re so hardheaded sometimes,” he said as he rolled his eyes at me. 

“Pretty sure you are too, sir.” 

He bit his lip, then grinned slightly as he released it. It was so fucking hot when he did that. I felt that familiar ache at my core. Ugh, get a grip on yourself Talia. 

“What time is it there?”

“Almost 2AM.”

“Geez, you need to go to sleep. I know you probably have an early call tomorrow.”

He shrugged again, “I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Why?”

“My mind won’t allow me to. You know how I am sometimes. The nighttime is the worst.”

“I’m sorry. Anything I can do to help?”

“Just talk to me, please. Te extraño.” (I miss you.)

I nodded. I wasn’t sure what he said, but there was a lot of emotion behind it. His eyes looked sad again. 

“I’ll tell you what, give me like, twenty minutes. I’m gonna go take a quick shower, then I’ll call you back, ok? 

“Are you gonna use my shower?” He gave me a small smirk. I don’t know why, but I felt like he enjoyed the thought of that. 

“Yes, and I’ll stay here tonight and talk to you.” His smile widened slightly. 

“Ok, get it done. Don’t keep me waiting too long, please.”

We both hung up and I hurried through the house to lock up, then to his room, trying to not make a mess as I went. I showered quickly, using his shampoo and body wash. The smell of him surrounded me and strangely enough, it was comforting. I walked out into his room, still wrapped in a towel, and quickly found a t-shirt in his closet. I pulled it on as I walked over to where I had set my phone to charge. Quickly picking it up to dial his number. It didn’t even give a full ring before the facetime video connected. He was lying in bed, the room behind him was dimly lit by the tv. He smiled into the camera.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to bail on me.”

“I said twenty minutes. I’m only three minutes late,” I said with a teasing smile as I worked to pull the covers back on his bed. I crawled up to settle in.   

We talked for nearly an hour before he started to doze off. He fell asleep while we were still on the phone. I didn’t even bother to try and wake him. Instead, I disconnected the call, hoping it didn’t disturb him. 

I set my phone alarm so I could get up and head home to work the next morning. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep after that. I was exhausted after spending the day doing more manual labor than I was used to. As I drifted off, my thoughts were solely focused on Dieter. His smell was everywhere around me, which I’m sure had a heavy influence on my dreams that night. 

A/N: Just to prepare you, the angst is really going to ramp up next chapter. There may also be some high levels of sexual tension...👀

Seriously, these two just need to get together already. They are wearing me out. 🤣

Next Chapter

Tag List: @rhoorl, @bitchwitch1981, @readingiskeepingmegoing, @runningmom94, @for-a-longlongtime, @hisandsnakes

#dieter x ofc #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal #Destiny & Deliverance Series #pedrostories #Pedro Pascal Character #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #dieter bravo #pedro boys #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Fanfic #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction

[leopardcoffee]

I've Got The Bull By The Horns 1/5

Captain Solok/Captain!Reader

🫧Warnings: Xenophobic themes, harsh language, ANGST

🫧Notes: Reader is femme aligned, most referred to the in 2nd person, this is an AO3 reupload!

There was absolutely no doubt in your mind that Captain Solok was the person you hated most in life. Everything he did, everything he said, made you want to just tear your hair out. He was so infuriating, so pompous, so utterly full of himself that some days you simply refused to believe he was Vulcan at all. You knew full well that your opinion was not exclusive, many DS9 personnel despised him, though perhaps only Captain Sisko’s hatred measured up to your own. Upon finding out that once again, Solok would be docking the T’kumbra here for repairs, you slammed your hand down on your station.

“What’s the matter Commander?” Major Kira came up behind you and placed her hand tenderly on your shoulder. She was always so thoughtful in that way.

“Solok is the matter, I can’t stand him. I’d rather die than have to see his smug face ever again.” You said through gritted teeth. Something about him just ignited such uncontrollable rage inside of you. You knew why, but you’d be damned before you’d ever admit it.

“Don’t say that, there’s no way he’s that bad.” Kira mused.

“Oh but he is, he is that bad. He’s the most arrogant, privileged, obnoxious person I've ever had the misfortune to meet. I’d be perfectly happy to hear he’d fallen off the face of Vulcan, never to be seen again.”

“Why? I know why Benjamin has such a problem with him, but why do you?”

You let out a long sigh. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time. Tell you what, we’ll have a girl’s night and you can tell me all about it. Besides, don’t you want to hear about who I’m seeing?” Kira whispered playfully in your ear, she always knew what to say to get you to agree. The prospect of relaxing with Kira after your shift sounded nice anyway, even if you would have to talk about Solok at some point. Rest had been escaping you lately.

“Count me in. I’ll meet you at Quark’s after our shifts.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She smiled, bid you a good rest of your day, and headed off to continue with her duties.

As soon as she was out of sight, you let your shoulders slump. Sighing, you rubbed a hand across your forehead. You really didn’t want to talk about Solok with her, or with anyone. But if it had to happen, better to confide in Kira than anyone else. You knew that you probably should have gone to a counselor after what had happened with him, but the prospect of working your feelings away had won out over your better judgment. Nonetheless, you had already agreed to it, there was no backing out now.

-

Nervously, you made your way down the promenade to Quark’s. You picked at the edges of your uniform cuffs, a bad habit from the academy you’d never been able to kick. You knew Kira would be waiting for you, but stalling sounded wonderful.

“Y/N! There you are, what took you so long?”

Kira bounded over and greeted you with a hug. She was a new person now that she’d moved on from Shakar, it warmed your heart to see her so happy. A small part of you resented her for it, you wish you’d turned out that way, but Solok had made you bitter. It bothered you, this wasn’t who you wanted to be. Some days you didn’t even recognize yourself or who you’d become. The experience had turned you sour, made you resentful and vengeful, always fighting the urge to let your temper rip on some unsuspecting soul. Only Kira seemed to be able to stand you these days, and only because she was so relentlessly optimistic.

“Got caught up with something.” You mumbled, looking down at your shoes. It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were reading Solok’s pre-docking briefing. He’d be here at 0700 tomorrow, and would stay for over a week. A whole week with Solok stalking around in your peripherals sounded like the most miserable experience possible.

“Alright, tell me what’s wrong. Solok’s arrival has been bothering you all day, don’t think Julian and Miles didn’t notice and let me know.” Kira led you to a quiet table in the back by your elbow, two raktajino’s already waiting. Seeing that Kira had ordered yours the way you liked it- hot, double sweet, extra cream- made you feel more relaxed. Settling in to your quiet little corner and taking a sip of your drink, you smiled into your cup as it warmed your insides.

“So, what’s going on?” Kira prompted, never one to stall.

“It’s just, Solok and I…it’s complicated. During our early days as lieutenants, we served together on the Hermes, we were very close. I don’t really remember when it started, but at some point we became…involved with each other. It lasted for a while, and we were going strong until he got promoted. Once he did, he went for it and never looked back. I didn’t know he’d been transferred until I asked the computer where he was, he’d never even bothered to tell me. Low and behold, I did some digging to find out where he’d gone and found he was a Vulcan supremacist and had been hiding it from me. I wasted so much time fooling around with him and he never cared for me at all. He’s nothing but a no-good, two-faced, xenophobic liar! I loved him and he never gave a damn about me. He broke my heart, that’s why I can’t stand him. That’s why I don’t want him around, that’s why I'd love to go back to my quarters and just curl up and die.”

The look on Kira’s face had not been what you were expecting. Some surprise you had anticipated, but complete and utter shock had not been a prediction.

“Oh, wow. That’s…not at all what I was expecting. Solok and you were together?”

Sighing heavily, you classed your hands tight on the table to maintain an outward look of composure. Even thinking about Solok made you sick to your stomach. It hurt to explain yourself because deep down underneath all the anger and hurt, you still loved him. It was no use lying to yourself and trying to pretend like he didn’t consume your every waking thought and wasn’t the object of all your desires. Just the idea that he had been using you for your body made you want to shrink in on yourself and never utter another sound for as long as you lived.

“It’s not something I'm proud of. All he ever did was take advantage of my feelings for his own personal gain. Having him here for the week is going to make me lose my grip on my life again, I can’t let that happen. It was nothing short of a miracle that I was on Bajor the last time he was here, maybe I can convince Sisko to let me take the week off.”

“But running away from him won't solve anything!” Kira protested. “Clearly this hurts you more than you’re willing to admit. I think the two of you need to have a talk, lay everything out on the table so you can truly be at peace. I mean, how long have you had this cloud hanging over you?”

Putting your head in your hands, you sighed again. Kira was right, serenity escaped you because you lived every day with this open wound. It would be hard to talk to him, but it would be well worth the strife in the end. Peeking out from between your laced fingers, you noticed that at some point it had gotten late. Most of the patrons had left for their quarters and Quark was tidying up to close for the evening. You were on alpha shift tomorrow, staying up any later would make Solok’s arrival that much harder.

“I’ll do it. I can’t keep living like this, I need to let him go.”

Kira’s arm ran comfortingly up and down your own. “That’s the spirit.” She smiled warmly before pushing out her chair. “We’d best get to bed, you need the rest more than anyone tonight.”

Nodding, you copied her motions and went to return your mugs to Quark before following Kira out onto the promenade. The two of you walked in comfortable silence until you reached the habitat ring and had to part ways. She enveloped you in a long hug.

“Sleep well, ok? I’ll be there with you tomorrow, everything's going to be ok.”

“Thank you.” You murmured into her shoulder. “Good night.”

Kira bid you pleasant dreams and went on her way, leaving you to walk the short distance to your quarters. Upon returning, the moment the door closed behind you, you collapsed onto your bed. There was no energy left in you to change into nightclothes or sort yourself out, you just needed to sleep. Deactivating the lights. You curled up under your blankets and drifted off, willing tomorrow to never come.

#star trek #star trek ds9 #st ds9 #star trek deep space nine #st deep space nine #deep space nine #ds9 #captain solok #solok #solok/reader #captain Solok/reader

[lostinthewiind]

Brave Heart: Chapter Sixty

Attack on Titan

Rating: Mature

Warnings: sexual themes, death, gore, mature themes, extreme violence, body horror, blood, weapons, major character death, age-gap relationship

The sight of five large airships looming over Mitras wasn't an unexpected one. Vera had been expecting a fight when she returned to the capital, and a fight was what she was going to get.

After parting ways with Levi and Hange—and numerous assurances from Hange that they would protect Levi with their life—Vera set off on her own. Once she had decided to return to her friends, it wasn't hard to follow through with her plan mentally. The logistics, however, were tricky.

Vera ended up stealing a horse from the first family-owned farm she came across and rode back to wall Sina. She made a mental note to compensate the family somehow in the future; if she ended up surviving, that is.

Now that she was back, plunged head-first into the deep end of chaos, she wove through the crumbling streets and avoided the many panicked citizens on her journey to the capitol building. With scouts zipping from building to building and Marleyan soldiers shooting at anything that moved from the rooftops, the once peaceful interior had turned into a full-blown war zone.

Feeling the ground shake beneath the hooves of her horse, Vera gripped a larger handful of the steed's mane as she followed the commotion with her eyes. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting to see, but Eren's Titan battling it out with the Armoured Titan hadn't been it.

"Reiner," she breathed out. She was getting a little tired of gut-wrenching reunions, but now wasn't the time to worry about the brick of guilt settling at the bottom of her stomach.

Guilt was a privilege for the survivors and there was far too much killing to be done between now and the eventual end of this war.

Kicking her mount into a gallop, Vera set her sights on her destination and blocked out the gunshots and screams that echoed in the streets around her. She wasn't sure why her gut had told her that the capitol building was her goal, but she had a feeling it had to do with the fact that she hadn't seen a single one of her friends partaking in the fight. If they weren't in the action, there was a damn good reason why.

Vera had an inclination the reason had something to do with a sturdy lock and some metal bars.

She had only stepped foot inside the capitol building a couple of times in her life, and despite the fact that neither time had ever been a particularly welcomed one, the feeling of the marble flooring on her boots this time around sent an unusually powerful shock of uncertainty up her spine.

"It's you." A familiar face rounded the corner. His eyes were wide and he was holding a ring of keys. "You work with Hange."

Vera recognized him instantly. "Onyankopon, right?" She was weary of him, unsure of which side of the war he aligned himself with.

He nodded. "You're looking for your friends," he stated instead of asking.

Vera didn't miss the way Onyankopon's fingers tightened around the metal ring. "I am," she admitted. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Onyankopon looked down at the keys and then back up at Vera. He seemed to be having an internal debate with himself, but eventually, he sighed and shook his head. "No." He held out the ring of keys to her; a peace offering. "They're locked up in the cells below the building. I'll take you."

Vera couldn't help but think back to what Hange had said about there not being a lot of people who would be willing to help them. "Thank you." She motioned for him to lead the way. "For the keys and for not wanting me dead."

Onyankopon didn't respond to that. Instead, he kept quiet and guided Vera through the halls and down into the cellar.

There, where the only source of light was a few torches lining the walls, Vera found her friends, Niccolo, and Sasha's family locked behind metal bars just as she had suspected. If Hange hadn't kicked her out of that carriage, this would have been her fate as well.

"Vera!" Connie jumped up at the sight of her. "You're here. How are you here?"

"It's a long story." Vera started trying the keys one at a time, waiting for the right one to unlock the cell.

Jean's eyes darted between Vera and Onyankopon. "Hey, what's going on here?" He experienced the same gut reaction to the former Marleyan as Vera had.

"Marley launched an attack on the island with their airship fleet," Onyankopon explained. "They've got five hundred soldiers plus the Armoured, Jaw, and Cart Titans."

Vera nodded, proving that what he was saying was true. "It's bad out there." She stuck another key into the keyhole. Not that one. "It's bad everywhere."

"Eren's still out there fighting them on his own but he's struggling," Onyankopon added. "He's not going to last long. Marley is going to take the Founder. You have to help. Join us! Protect Eren!"

When Vera finally found the right key for the lock and the cell door swung open, Connie lunged at Onyankopon. Grabbing him by the collar of his white dress shirt, he slammed the taller man into the opposite wall.

"Are you shitting me?" Connie yelled. "We're not on the same side! This is your battle. You already betrayed us once. Why the hell would we do as you say?"

"Connie, stop!" Vera tried to bring him back to his senses. "He helped me find you guys. He isn't the enemy."

Connie ignored her and tightened his grip around Onyankopon's collar.

"I'm sorry," Onyankopon wheezed out. "I never wanted this but Yelena would have put a bullet in my head if I hadn't gone along with her plan."

Tears of frustration gathered in Connie's eyes. "You think I want to hear your excuses? You've been acting like our friend while you used that wine to take over Paradis. I'm sick of it. I'm so sick of getting betrayed! Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, you. Even Eren's betrayed us! I can't stand it! Why should we do a damn thing for him, huh? Why should we save him just so he can stop any of us from ever having kids?"

By then, Connie was tapping into a raw power Vera had never seen from him before. Muscles trembling, he started lifting Onyankopon right off the ground.

"No kids?" Vera had missed this crucial element.

"Zeke's euthanization plan." Armin was quick to fill in the blanks. "They want to use the Founding Titan's powers to change the genetic makeup of Eldians so we can never have children. Our bloodline will die out. If not passed down, the Titan powers will simply regenerate into a subject of Ymir, keeping the royal bloodline alive."

"Holy shit." Vera started to feel a fraction of the hurt that Connie was experiencing at that moment.

Armin nodded in understanding before taking a step forward and placing a calming hand on Connie's arm. "I'd like to hear him out, at least." He urged Connie to let Onyankopon go. "Okay?"

When Connie released his hold, Onyankopon dropped to the ground and began to cough and sputter in a desperate attempt to catch his breath. "I had no idea that Yelena was plotting any of this," he said between gulps of air. "The tainted wine or the euthanization plan. None of the volunteers were told anything."

"Huh?" Connie growled.

"He's telling the truth," Niccolo spoke up. "We never discussed the tainted wine with the volunteers. Yelena ordered us not to mention it to them."

Onyankopon's lips quivered as he sat up. "What's more, I don't want to see the Eldian people euthanized. Our goal was to build a new Paradis alongside all of you. To rise up and beat Marley together! That's why we left everything behind to come here. I gave up my whole life for the people of this island because I thought together we could create a better future on Paradis. But there is no future without children! If this euthanization plan succeeds, then everything we've sacrificed … it will all be for nothing!"

Silence filled the dank cellar as Onyankopon looked from person to person, searching for understanding in their eyes. "You have to believe me."

"He's telling the truth." Armin decided.

"Armin?" Connie questioned.

"Years ago, when you first came here, you said something that stuck with me." Armin looked down at Onyankopon. "That we subjects of Ymir exist because we're wanted; that the world is more interesting with different kinds of people. I think you believe that and I think that belief goes against everything Zeke's doing. You meant all the things you said, right?" He offered a hand to the man on the ground. "Then get back on your feet, Onyankopon."

Accepting the help, Onyankopon grasped Armin's hand and pulled himself up. "Thank you."

"Well, for what it's worth, I believe you too." Jean placed a hand into his pocket and sighed. "But now what? If we help Eren and Zeke fight off the Marleyan army, then they'll just end up going through with the euthanization plan, right?"

"Well, we'll at least have a chance to stop them," Onyankopon said. "Because if those two die, the whole world is going to come crashing down on us."

Connie balled his hands into fists. "So what are you trying to say we should do then?"

"Take it down a notch, Connie." Vera placed a hand on Connie's shoulder. Jean matched her movement with the other shoulder. This time, Connie was more open to de-escalation. "We've already established we're all on the same side."

"If nothing else, we can activate the rumbling and show the world that we're capable of punching back." Onyankopon had clearly been devising a response to that very question for some time.

Connie didn't seem satisfied. "You want to give them a taste of the rumbling?"

"Hey, Mikasa." Armin turned to the woman who had, thus far, opted to remain silent. "What do you think? Do you want to go help Eren?"

Mikasa moved her hand over her heart and drew in a slow breath. "I would say yes … except, knowing what he told me, I'm not sure if I want to or if my blood is telling me to." She pulled her old, tattered red scarf out of her pocket; the one Eren had given her when they were kids. "I'm an Ackerman. My will is not my own."

"Look, Mikasa, I think Eren made that up to mess with your head," Armin told her.

"No, he was on to something. He asked if I get headaches and I do. What makes you think he was lying?"

"What makes me think he-" Armin seemed taken aback. "Guys, do you actually believe Eren wants to stop all Eldians from having children? You honestly think he'd go along with that?"

Vera opened her mouth to respond but quickly shut it again when she noticed the torn expressions on her friends' faces. The Eren that she had come to know over the past couple of weeks—the one who used and manipulated her—was vastly different than the one she knew before. However, she wasn't entirely sure if her view had been skewed or not.

"It doesn't really strike me as something Eren would want but I can't say that it's more than he's willing-" Jean started.

"Well, I can say it!" Armin interjected. "He would never do that!"

Connie frowned. "You don't think so? Did you think he'd work with Zeke and Yelena?"

"He's just pretending to!"

"Pretending?" Connie scoffed. "Was he pretending when he tricked Vera into murdering innocent civilians?"

"He didn't have any options back then," Armin explained. "Don't you see, Eren's the one with the Founding Titan's power so he doesn't need to fight Zeke. Things were different when Yelena first came to him with the plan. There's no telling what she might have done if he had refused to join her. But now Eren has Yelena completely convinced that he's on her side and the volunteers have gotten him in contact with Zeke. He's in control. He can use the rumbling to protect the island. Nobody will dare lay a hand on Paradis for the next fifty years."

Armin made eye contact with each and every person standing around him, trying to assess where their head was at in the moment. When no one spoke up, it became clear that the group was no longer completely in sync with their feelings.

"Hey, can me and mine head home now?" Mr. Braus piped up from the corner. His wife and children stood around him, confused and terrified by the interaction they were witnessing.

"I'm really sorry," Niccolo apologized. "Just hang tight for a little longer, okay?"

Realizing that her gaze had been stuck to the floor, carefully analyzing a crack in the brick, Vera lifted her head and noticed Connie looking at her. She sensed the concern in his eyes, worried he had overstepped by mentioning her recent history with Eren.

She flashed him a quick and reassuring smile. If anything, it was nice to know she wasn't the only one with reservations. After everything that had happened, she didn't know how Armin was still so devoted to Eren.

"I've been calling Eren a suicidal maniac ever since we met in the cadet corps." Jean grimaced. "I always knew that shithead would lead us straight to hell if we gave him the chance. But even knowing that, I was still jealous of him for being cool enough to do it. It pisses me off that I have to say this but it's the truth: I'm not ready to see Eren die just yet."

Armin was shocked.

"Me either," Connie agreed. "I owe that guy a beat down. Marley can get the hell back in line."

Vera dug deep into her heart and tried to focus on the Eren she knew four years ago; the kid who would recklessly sacrifice himself for his friends in a heartbeat instead of the lost man she knew now. He had saved her life more times than she could count. If anything, she owed him this.

"I hate him for what he did," Vera confessed, "but I don't want there to be any more deaths than there needs to be."

Onyankopon smiled. "Let's go!"

Rushing up the stairs and out of the cellar, Niccolo took charge of getting Sasha's family back to their home safe and sound. The rest got ready to join to war raging on outside.

"If Eren's been hiding his true intentions from Yelena and the others, then why'd he push us away instead of telling us?" Mikasa questioned, trying her best to feel as confident about Eren's loyalty as Armin did. "Whatever his real plan is, why would he have told me that he hates me?"

"There must be a reason." Armin shrugged. "Eren and I have both known about your headaches for a long time now. My guess is that everything else he said is made up. He used one real detail to make the rest of the story more believable. He couldn't tell the truth in that situation, but once all this is over, we can ask him about it, okay?"

"Okay."

Vera hung back a little as the two discussed Eren, enough to give them space still close enough so she could hear what they were saying. She couldn't help the twist of concern in her stomach as she listened to Armin so recklessly give Eren the benefit of the doubt.

The feeling of not trusting Armin's plan was a foreign one. In the past, Eren's goal had always aligned with the group so there was never a divide; what was good for Eren was good for everyone. Now, however, it was beginning to show that when those goals didn't align, Armin chose his friend over logic and reason.

Vera had never seen Armin choose anything over logic and reason before. These certainly were unprecedented times.

#lostinthewiind #attack on titan #brave heart #fanfiction #AoT #OC #original character #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #levi ackerman #erwin smith #story #titans #tumblr fic #wattpad #jean kirstein #historia reiss #annie leonhart #reiner braun #hange zoe #bertholdt hoover #connie springer #vera kline #sasha braus #ymir fritz #reiner braun x oc #levi ackerman x oc

[thebreakfastgenie]

out of genuine curiosity, why don’t you want to write bj goes to Maine?

Well, for starters—and this probably answers your question—I hate BJ/Hawkeye. 

I capitalized BJ Goes to Maine to specify that I was referring to the popular fandom trope, not the concept of BJ ever traveling to the state of Maine. I’m not saying I’ll never write BJ going to Maine for a visit or trope subversion, because I did, but I'm not likely to do it again (except [redacted]). 

As for as BJ Goes to Maine the trope, the problems I have with it could fill libraries. This is basically just a start. 

The heart of it is, it requires characterization so atrociously OOC, I don’t recognize either character. Literally the first question I asked when I encountered BJ Goes to Maine was “what about Erin?” I have never gotten a satisfactory answer to that. The BJ we see in canon loves and wants to be with Peg. Even taking an alternative interpretation of their marriage, or saying circumstances have changed for them, does not change the fact that they share a child. BJ would not leave Erin to go to Maine. A fanfiction BJ who would abandon his child his someone I would be actively rooting against. 

BJ Goes to Maine is all about BJ. He is the one taking action, the only one making a choice. Hawkeye just waits around for BJ to show up and declare his love. Hawkeye has no agency. He’s reduced to a love interest and not even a complex one. In the show, Hawkeye constantly fights for agency, while at the mercy of a system doing everything to take it from him. Once he’s finally free to live his own life, he’s not going to let anyone determine its course for him. When Hawkeye feels strongly about something, he takes action. We see it again and again and again. If he wants something, he’s not going to sit and wait for it to come to him. 

Despite my penchant for angst, I like happy endings, and BJ Goes to Maine isn’t one. If Hawkeye and BJ remain the most important people in each other’s lives, they have to remain who they who during the war forever. It defines them and they never escape. That’s just about the bleakest thing I can imagine. They need to move on, and Hawkeye already has. Some kind of grand romcom reversal isn’t consistent with who they are. MASH isn't a romance and I don’t want to turn it into one. Intentionally or not, BJ Goes to Maine turns the Korean War into the thing that brought BJ and Hawkeye together. There is a whole complex conversation to be had about how fic that focuses on the characters and their relationships engages with the themes and message of the show, but ultimately I don't believe in policing what people write. I simply don’t like it.

The reality of Hawkeye and BJ is that their lives are not compatible. They’re very different and they were briefly brought together by the war. The bittersweetness of that parting being inherent to them finally getting their lives back is a major theme of not just the finale, but the entire show. Putting any characters together undermines that, but putting Hawkeye and BJ together undermines it more than anyone else, because of the relationship they had. The relationship they had onscreen was entirely dependent upon circumstances and cannot exist after the war ends. Hawkeye knows this and he accepts it, he just wants closure. When BJ tries to suggest ways they could see each other again and Hawkeye says “in other words, goodbye,” he isn’t just saying all of them having dinner is unlikely—though it is—he’s saying they’ll become people who get together and have dinner. That’ll be all that's left, a toast to whatever closeness they once had. And Hawkeye is okay with it. He's sad about it, but he’s okay with it. BJ refuses to accept it and refuses Hawkeye that closure, but I think deep down he knows it too, because his last word to Hawkeye is goodbye, even if he doesn’t say it. 

BJ Goes to Maine is antithetical to GFA. Hawkeye and BJ’s goodbye is final. BJ going to Maine is just saying haha, we didn’t mean it! We take it back! Why would I do that to such a great, poignant ending? It’s the lazy sequel way out, like how Andre Aciman ruined the best part of Call Me By Your Name (Elio realizing over time, as he has more relationships, Oliver remains important but stops being the most important) by having Oliver casually leave his wife and kids to go to Italy in Find Me. There's a reason Alan Alda said he didn’t know if Hawkeye and BJ ever saw each other again. 

I’m also not sure BJ would. He makes a choice in GFA, and he doesn’t choose Hawkeye. I don't blame BJ for leaving the first chance he gets, and I don't think Hawkeye would either if he handled it better. But he clearly demonstrates his priorities, and they are not Hawkeye. He only comes back because he’s forced to, and he isn’t happy about it. None of this foreshadows someone who’d uproot his life to go to Maine. Again, it would be dependent upon a wild change of heart that just isn’t consistent. BJ can barely handle being around Hawkeye while he’s hospitalized, which again I don’t really blame him for, but that doesn’t tell me he would go to Maine. If he did go, I don't see it ending well. If I didn't think BJ and Hawkeye had negative romantic chemistry, I wouldn’t be able to see a future for them. 

The tl:dr is you don’t write things you don’t like, and I hate BJ Goes to Maine. 

I'm posting this now so it doesn't get eaten a third time, but I may come back with and another thing-

#tumblr ate this twice sorry #I could probably say even more.... #mashposting

[reviews-by-shelby]

White Smoke by Tiffany D. Jackson

              White Smoke by Tiffany D. Jackson is a horror young adult novel that focuses on Marigold “Mari” Anderson, a teenaged girl who is moving with her blended family from their California beach town to middle-of-nowhere Cedarville. She sees this move as a fresh new start after running into trouble with drugs and mental health in the months before. As she, her brother, mom, step-dad Alec, and step-sister Piper settle into their new, free home (paid for by the Sterling Foundation, who hired her mom to write a book), they soon find out that things are not what they seem. Mari learns that something sinister is living in her home, and it leaves her family in constant fear. As she works to understand what is going on, she figures out that things in her new town are not what they seem. She uncovers years’ worth of racial divide, drug problems, and the fact that the Sterling Foundation has their hand in all of it. Mari must work against the clock to bring these issues to light, or else the Foundation will erase the town’s history and rebuild it with their own agenda in mind.

              This book serves the Black community and highlights the importance of standing up for one’s race and community. When Mari moves to Cedarwood and begins attending her new high school, she finds that a majority of the population is Black and makes a few friends who are the same race. She feels a sense of belonging that she didn’t feel in California and felt more of a connection to her neighbors when it came time to do something about the racial divide that had been happening for years thanks to the Sterling Foundation. This book also made me feel more empathy for people involved in drugs. A couple of characters named Yusef and Erika were mentioned as children of drug lords. Their fathers were put in prison because of their involvement with selling weed, which left their son and daughter without parental figures. The effects of their absence are evident as the two characters describe how hard it is to go through an important stage in their life, their teenage years, without their fathers. I’ve always thought of drugs as a bad situation for people to get involved with them, but I’ve honestly never given much thought on the effect they can have on the sellers’ family.

              This book also addresses one thing that I find to be very important, and that is second chances. Mari is looking to turn over a new leaf in Cedarville after getting involved in drugs after an ex-boyfriend led her down the wrong path. Throughout the story she is constantly struggling with herself internally, telling herself that she’s messed up too badly and there’s no turning back. She learns the important lesson that everyone deserves a second chance, no matter how serious their actions were. With the right outlook and support, anyone can become stronger and learn from their mistakes, which is exactly what Mari does with the help of those closest to her. Overall, I thought this book was entertaining and focused on great themes of family, standing up for what you believe in, and learning from your mistakes. For most the story, Mari is very self-centered and harsh towards her family, mainly lashing out because of the negative feelings she harbors due to her past mistakes, but it’s rewarding to witness her change for the better.

              I chose this genre of young adult writing because it was October when I was making my choices for the second round of blogging. I wanted to fit the Halloween atmosphere and read something that would be a little scary. Admittedly, I don’t think I found the most reputable list when I chose this book. There is not really an award that recognizes young adult horror novels, so I ended up doing a Google search to find some popular titles in this genre. Tiffany D. Jackson’s name came up in a lot different lists I found on reading blogs, and I thought the book synopsis sounded interesting. I also liked the fact that it featured characters of color and focused on the struggles of racial division. At first, I was afraid the book would be a little too scary for me (because I’m a baby when it comes to things like that), but I found it to be very enjoyable and suspenseful. I give this book four out of five stars.

Jackson, T. D. (2021). White Smoke. HarperCollins.

#yabooks

[your-royal-momoness]

People in the atla fandom should try actually watching Avatar: The Last Airbender. I think they’d really like it

#feel like people are just in this fandom to hate on the show? #you can acknowledge something has issues without tearing it apart #just a thought from your friendly neighborhood trashbender #I’m not here for your hot takes #I’m here for you loving this beautiful thing knowing full well that it isn’t perfect #because nothing is #and that’s ok #you’re allowed to like something that has problems #recognizing the problem and not turning your back on something is a major theme in atla and y’all are missing the point #atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #sokka #aang #katara #Toph #mai #Suki #ty lee #azula #iroh #avatar: the last airbender #a:tla #trashbending

[sinner-as-saint]

Crawling Back To You.

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Run-through: Bucky Barnes had a lot on his plate at the moment. Regrets, fears, nightmares and desperately trying to do the right things to make up for his past as the Winter Soldier. Amongst those things, barely anything made him truly happy, or safe or loved. None did actually - except for you. He met you at a bar once and since then, you’ve been his sanctuary. You both knew he wasn’t quite ready to be in a relationship, yet you were always there with open arms whenever he needed a friend, a shoulder to lean on, or someone to help him take his mind off things. Be it a nightmare, or memories from the past coming to haunt him, or any major or minor inconvenience, the super soldier would find himself turning to you for help. 

Themes: angst, fluff, smut

He woke up on the floor, covered in cold sweat. 

The flashbacks of the nightmares kept resurfacing until it finally faded again. Faded, not truly gone because he knew they’d be back tomorrow again - his past coming to haunt him. He sighed and squinted at the screen in front of him. 

The T.V was on, playing reruns of a show he did not care about. He simply needed the noise to help him fall asleep. The quiet and silence was his own personal hell, so he always needed some sort of background noise to help him out. 

Bucky tried getting some sleep again; tossing and turning on the wooden flooring but he couldn’t fall back asleep. His mind was racing, too many thoughts at once. He checked the time, the clock read 1 a.m. He could go on a run, but he didn’t really feel like it. He could go to the gym, but he didn’t feel like working out either. 

He needed something. An escape, a friend. You, he needed you. 

Bucky reached for his phone, and a few taps later he was calling you. He knew it was late but you somehow always picked up his calls no matter what the time was. The rings later, he heard your voice speak up from the other end. 

“Buck?” You sounded sleepy, but not like he had woken you up, you sounded like you were about to fall asleep. 

He closed his eyes and sighed at the sound of your voice. He could picture you, all tucked in your comfy bed, surrounded by pillows and your soft blankets. Perhaps you had lost track of time because of a good book, or perhaps you were up late responding to emails for work. 

“Hey doll. Did I wake you up?” he asked, leaning back against the wall of his living room, his legs sprawled out on the floor in front of him. Only sometimes did he feel like he was taking advantage of your kindness, but then again he could be selfish when it came to you. You were his, and that’s that. 

You let out a little laugh. “Of course not, Bucky. I was just finishing up some work.” He could hear your sheets shuffling, “Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?” you asked, softly. 

Bucky told you he did. Then he went on to tell you exactly what he had dreamt of. Sometimes he felt like he was opening up more to you than his shrink. But truth is, you made him feel like he was more than just a broken soldier, or a problem who needed to be remedied or fixed. You made him feel like he was human after all. 

“I… I’m trying to fall back asleep but…” his voice trailed off. He didn’t have to say it, you understood perfectly. He knew you did. 

Then he heard his favorite words coming from you, “Come over Buck, I’m waiting.” 

He wasted no time in getting up from the floor and getting dressed. Dark jeans, shirt, jacket and not to forget his gloves. Sometimes he wondered why he felt so giddy when you asked him to come over, which was almost every night. He wondered what it would be like to come home to you every night instead, had it been a perfect world. He always felt like he was clinging to you too much, for everything. But then you always told him that you didn’t mind. You told him you loved his company. 

He grabbed his helmet before stepping out of his apartment. There was a light drizzle outside but he didn’t care, he just needed to be with you. He got down the stairs and then rushed to start his mean bike and then rushed to your apartment building. You lived in a much nicer part of the city than he did, and he often wondered why you were putting up with someone like him when you could have a man who would give you a life you’ve always dreamt of. He often asked you that, but you always just smiled at him, you never answered. 

On his way up to your floor, he couldn’t help but feel all warm in the elevator. He counted down the seconds till he could see you. He often slept over at your place, he loved it. Cuddling, making love, followed by lazy mornings, him trying to get you to not go to work and spend the day with him instead. He loved how you made him feel. 

He knocked on your door, already taking off his gloves because he needed to feel your skin against his. Your body heat made him feel so much better. He heard you unlocking the door from the other side and not even a second later, he saw your pretty face smiling at him. Dressed in silk PJ shorts and a t-shirt, you looked breathtakingly beautiful even at one thirty in the morning. 

“Hello there,” you greeted him, smirking. “That was fast.” You teased, opening the door wider to let him in. 

He smiled and stepped inside, closing the door behind him and pulling you in for a hug immediately. You felt his slightly damp and cold jacket press against you but you hugged him back tightly anyways. 

“I needed to see you.” He mumbled, pressing his face into your neck. 

“I know.” 

-

You and Bucky ended up in your bed, cuddling under the blankets. He loved the dimmed night light you always had on, knowing that he hated being in complete darkness. He loved how cozy your room was, how spacious and airy but also warm and comfortable. 

The large window by your bed showed a lovely view of the city lights, which were right now blurred by the foggy glass, thanks to the light drizzle earlier. He could tell that the air was cold outside, but in here with you everything was just right. 

He had stripped down to just his boxers and he laid his head on your chest, his face facing away from yours, while you played with his hair and occasionally ran your hand down his back, scratching his skin lightly. His cold metal arm lazily ran up and down your thighs and he noticed the goosebumps on your skin that he was causing. 

He could hear your steady heartbeats and that was his favorite sound in the entire world. It calmed him down. 

You looked down, smiling softly at the sight of the muscular soldier using you as a human pillow. You could hear him let out quiet moans as you gently scratched his scalp. You still remembered the first time you two met, at a bar. 

-

It was late on a winter night, and the nearby bar was rather empty; just a few people here and there. And a certain muscular man in a dark leather jacket caught your eye. He was sitting at the counter, and you were in one of the booths. Eventually, you got up and decided to go talk to him. 

You recognized him immediately. Ex-Winter Soldier, Captain America’s best friend, James Buchanan Barnes.

Small talks turned into a couple more rounds of beers. He was a little off and awkward at first but he loosened up eventually. He even walked you back to your car, not wanting you to be alone in the dark, foggy and empty parking lot. 

That was the first time he kissed you, right before he opened the door of your car for you. 

“Will I see you again?” He asked, high off the adrenaline which coursed through his veins ever since you kissed him back. 

“Of course you will. Good night, James.” You kissed his cheek before getting into your car and driving off. 

-

A smile formed on your face as you thought of that night. “Do you remember the first time we met?” You asked softly. 

Bucky turned his face to you, placing his head back on your chest. He was so close that all you needed to do was to lean in a little to kiss his soft, pink lips. 

He smiled. “Yeah, why?” 

“No reason, I just wanted you to remember it.” 

Bucky chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss on your skin, right above your breasts. “You’ve been awfully quiet. What is it?” 

You just smiled at him, “Nothing. You’ve been awfully quiet too.” And judging by the look in his eyes, you could already tell there was something else to his silence. “What is it?” 

He was quiet. 

Sighing, you flipped the two of you around; straddling his waist while he laid comfortably against your multiple pillows. 

“Buck, tell me.” You pressed your palms against his chest to hold yourself up. 

“Sam needs my help with something. Another bad guy, another mission, another fight. Same old.” He sounded indifferent. 

You couldn’t blame him. He had been fighting for decades, non-stop. He had lost so much while doing so, but he also didn’t know how to deal with the calm, and silence and the quiet. There was so much he needed to figure out about himself still. 

“Do you not wanna go?” 

He smiled faintly as he lazily rubbed up and down your exposed thighs. “It’s my job, I have to. Innocent people will be hurt if I don’t. I want to help them.” 

“Then what’s the issue?” 

“I’ll have to leave you behind for a little while.” He didn’t want to. He didn’t know how to be away from you anymore because he hadn’t been for months now. The thought of not being able to hold you close at night and having your heartbeats lull him to sleep was scary.

You smiled down at him. “I’ll be here when you come back, Bucky.” 

He reached out and cupped your face with his metal hand. “And what if you find someone better while I’m gone?” 

You frowned down at him. “Where does that come from?” 

He gently stroked your cheek. “I’m just saying. You deserve someone a little more… normal.” 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Normal is boring, you seem perfectly fine to me.” 

He chuckled. “Why do you put up with me, doll?” It was a rhetorical question, he didn’t expect an answer because he had asked you this countless number of times but you never gave him a reply before. 

However, you did this time. “Because I’m in love with you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You had been meaning to tell him this for a while now. “You don’t have to say it back, I just needed you to know that no one’s ever gonna replace you. I love you.” 

He was a little surprised, his heart raced as he processed everything. How could someone as gentle, kind and beautiful like you fall for someone as broken as him? “Doll… I…” 

You leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You giggled, then pulled away to look at him. “You deserve all the good things in this world, Buck. You deserve to be loved, and cared for. And if you’d let me, I’d love to show you that.” 

You carefully pressed your lips to his, kissing him with all the love you had. His metal hand held you at the back of your neck and the other wrapped around your waist. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss; turning your mind into a foggy mess for a little while before he pulled away and stared deep into your eyes. 

You reached out and gently caressed his face, Bucky leaned into your touch. “I’m gonna miss you.” He mumbled. 

“When do you leave?” You asked. 

“Tomorrow, perhaps.” 

You leaned in for a kiss again, accidentally brushing your crotch against his erection; making him smirk through the kiss as he pulled you even closer. You purposely moved against him while you kissed him again deeply. 

Bucky soon flipped the two of you back around and settled in between your legs, kissing down your neck. “I’m gonna miss making love to you almost every night.” He whispered against your skin. His voice alone sent chills down your back, and made you feel all sorts of warm and tingly feelings inside. 

Bucky movements were gentle and slow as he took your clothes off, making sure you were both under the warm covers still; kissing you occasionally as he undressed you, and caressed your body as you squirmed under him. 

He kissed his way down your body, until his face was right in between your legs. You moaned as he parted your legs and placed a kiss on your inner thigh, pulling your underwear down your legs and kissing his way back to your wet folds. You threw your head back, and bit your lip; whining when you felt his tongue teasing you gently. The warmth of his mouth was driving you insane. 

His tongue gently teased your clit while his fingers slipped inside of you; stroking you gently while you arched your back off the surface of your bed as the pleasure became slightly overwhelming. You whimpered and squirmed under him as his tongue moved perfectly against you.

He had you coming undone all over his tongue and his fingers in no time, and he licked you clean when he was done. Kissing his way up your body again. “I’m gonna miss your taste.” He was shameless enough to whisper it in your ear; making you blush. 

His hands roamed around your body, touching you wherever he could, until he finally cupped your core and rubbed the sensitive skin around your swollen clit – making you shudder under him. You whined as he slipped his metal fingers past your entrance yet again. His head dipped into your neck and he licked and bit around your skin until he found your sweet spot. “And I’m gonna miss your warmth.” 

“Buck…” You moaned quietly as he replaced his fingers with his cock. 

He placed his mouth on top of yours again, to swallow your whimpers and moans as he pushed his cock into you. His breathing got shallow again as he pushed himself fully into you. He lifted his head and watched you grimace in pleasure and pain as his cock stretched you to your maximum. He watched you in awe as your lips parted and you moaned his name once he filled you up nicely. 

You whined as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you with a slightly bigger force. 

He groaned at the feel of your walls wrapped around him, squeezing and clenching around him. You heard him swear and felt him bite down on your lip as he sped up into you. He tugged on your lips and he started moving his hips; rocking into you slowly, then gradually increasing his speed. Your back arched off the surface of the bed again and your chest pressed to his.  

“I’m gonna miss watching you squirm under me…” he whispered, “as I pleasure you like no one ever will.” He moaned into your ear. “You’re mine.” 

You were a moaning mess under him in no time. There was something about the way he kissed you, deeply and passionately; as though he was scared you might just get away from him.

He worshipped your body. He mumbled how good you felt in your ear, groaning as you bucked your hips to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He kissed you roughly as he pounded into you; his metal fingers wrapped around your throat. He fucked you raw and relentlessly, watching how your face morphed into frowns of pleasure. 

He pressed his forehead on yours; looking down to where your bodies connected so intimately. Then he pulled away to look into your eyes with that animalistic, primal and fiery look in his eyes. His lips parted as he panted while he fucked you like he owned you.

“You’re gonna miss me too aren’t you, doll?” 

You nodded, whining in pleasure. He smirked. His hand left your neck and slid in between your connected bodies and furiously rubbed your clit, earning a loud moan out of you. “Say it, baby. Tell me how much you’re gonna miss my cock buried deep inside you…” 

You couldn’t talk as the pressure in between your legs became too much to handle, and you craved for release. He noticed and slipped his tongue back into your mouth one last time and took your bottom lip between his teeth again.

“Come on, cum for me… doll,” he swore as he felt you clench around him perfectly. You came hard around him, moaning and whimpering under him as he finished right after you; kissing your swollen lips deeply as he came.

He pushed his face into the crook of your neck as he caught his breath. And you cradled his head; panting as well. Your fingers gently massaged his scalp as he calmed his racing heart. A few moments later, he shifted all his weight right on top of you making you laugh as you tried to scoot out from under him. 

He groaned and pulled you closer. “Come here.” He pressed you against his body and wrapped his arms around. “I love you too, doll. So much.” 

You buried your face into his chest, inhaling his scent. “I’m gonna miss you. All of you.” You lifted your head up to look at him smiling down at you. “Come back fast.” 

He chuckled. “You know I will. No matter where I go, I’ll always come crawling back to you.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #tfatws #winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine

[an-obsessed-writer]

Mind Over Matter

Summary: Everyone knew the Baron Helmut Zemo, you’d have to be living under a rock to not recognize the name of the ridiculously wealthy royal attending your university. He was the school’s top bachelor, a sophisticated and confident man who obviously was wealthy. That was enough to make any woman at the university swoon, but he was always known to never keep a girl for long. What happens when (Y/N) finds herself meeting him at one of his parties?

(A/N): i think i’ll turn this into a series, but not sure yet! im a whore for zemo rn as everyone is, let me know if you’re interested in reading more <3

Word Count: 2.2k

“(Y/N)!” Wanda plops onto your bed after she runs into the dorm, and smiles sweetly up at you. “Wanna go to a party tonight? Word has it that Zemo is throwing a major bash for the new school year.”

Everyone knew the Baron Helmut Zemo, you’d have to be living under a rock to not recognize the name of the ridiculously wealthy royal attending your university. He was the school’s top bachelor, a sophisticated and confident man who obviously was wealthy. That was enough to make any woman at the university swoon, but he was always known to never keep a girl for long. Fortunately, you didn’t live under a rock, just too immersed in your studies to care much about him. You’ve seen him walking on campus before, with his fur coat and maroon mock turtleneck, and you could see why he was such a popular man. It’s known that Europeans always have the best sense of style.

“I’ve already got a major essay to finish for my philosophy class next week, maybe next time?” You frown at your roommate, feigning sadness that you wouldn’t be able to make it, but by the look of her face, she wasn’t going to let you get out of this one.

“You promised you’d attend a party this year! We’re juniors and you’ve been to only a handful. Besides, his parties are super classy, everyone gets all dressed up. It’ll be fun, I swear.” Wanda looks up at you with pleading eyes, and you couldn’t help but think about the opportunity presented.

It was true, you hadn’t been to many parties since college started. Your grades were stellar, your reputation even more so. Studying as a pre-med was no joke, resulting in your non-existent social life, but you honestly didn’t mind it much. You kept your head down because college was expensive enough as it is, you couldn’t afford to get distracted. Closing the laptop on your lap, a sigh escapes your mouth, and Wanda took it as a silent submission for what she had planned.

“Perfect! It’s tonight at his mansion. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be able to get him wrapped around your finger by the end of the night,” she winked and immediately began rummaging through her closet for the perfect outfit. “I heard the theme was the 20’s, I’ve always loved the flapper girl outfits.” A laugh escaped from Wanda’s lips, and a mischievous smile was displayed on her face. 

If there was anyone you trusted at this place, it’d be Wanda Maximoff. Her brother Pietro came as a close second, but she’d been your rock throughout your educational journey. Everyone loved her, everyone wanted her at their parties, but she chose to stay in with you to watch movies and talk about guys on more than one occasion. Coming from Sokovia, Wanda and Zemo talked often because of their love for the Sokovian language, but nothing romantic ever stemmed from their interactions with each other.

Truth be told, you were a pretty girl. This never went unnoticed by the guys around you, leading to a few regretful hookups. Your confidence oozed from your cheeky smile and subtly flirtatious comments when appropriate, but you were adamant on not entering a relationship until school was over. However, you were the realist out of this duo, and you knew for a fact you’d never be able to pull a guy like Helmut Zemo. With his looks and amount of money, he could get the most sought after movie star (which everyone was fairly sure he hooked up with Megan Fox at one point, but that was just a rumor).

“Do you still have your flapper girl costume from Halloween a while ago? I’ve got mine, and I don’t think we have enough time to shop before the party,” Wanda inquired.

“Of course I do, it’s my go to Halloween costume now if I ever go out again.” You smiled, reminiscing over the memories from last Halloween, and stumbled off your bed to find the outfit. 

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

The music was blasting, and you couldn’t help but look in awe of your surroundings. A double curved staircase with red carpeting was in front of you and Wanda, with grand railings connected to the marble floor below. The home was obnoxiously large, you could talk and an echo would rumble through the room. 

Wanda gives you an encouraging look, and grabs your hand to lead you towards the party room upstairs. The silver tassels from your mini dress rubbed against your dress with every step you took, and you knew there was no turning back now. Besides, there was no way you could leave this beautiful home anytime soon, you simply wanted to drink in it’s beauty forever.

Once upstairs, a man in a suit smiled at the two of you, and asked for your invitations, which Wanda gladly handed over. With a nod, he opened the doors that were taller than any of you, and the sight immediately took your breath away.

White, translucent balloons hung from the ceiling. Art deco inspired tables with feathers and gold tassels lining over them containing copious amounts of alcohol were in the middle of the room. Intricate white and golden wallpaper covered the walls, which helped bring everything together, but the flashing disco lights allowed a modern feel to this 1920’s inspired party.

Not too long after entering the room, Vision strutted over to the two of you after catching sight of his girlfriend. “Hello (Y/N),” he flashed a quick smile to you and placed a kiss on Wanda’s cheek, “Care if I steal my girlfriend away for a dance?”

“No problem at all,” you waved your hand to dismiss the two of them, and Wanda went off to the dance floor with her love. 

This was normal, Wanda would be whisked away by Vision, and you typically found a guy to bring you attention for the night, but something felt different. Right now, all you wanted was a drink, and you found yourself making a beeline towards the tables full of alcohol. 

The bartender was dressed in one of the finest suits, and you couldn’t help but wonder “If his employees are dressed like this, what was the Baron wearing?”

“What would you like?” Your mind blanked trying to think of alcohol that you liked, it’s been too long.

“Surprise me, it’s been a while.” You smiled sheepishly, but your attention was caught by the feeling of another person behind you.

“That won’t do, you look like you need something strong.” A thick, European accent filled your ears, and you couldn’t help the way that your body tensed up. With a turn of your head, your eyesight took hold of the one and only, Helmut Zemo.

He looked even more delicious standing so close to you. As expected, Zemo didn’t mess around with his looks. A burgundy, pinstripe suit hugged his figure, and you couldn’t help but take note of the way his arms looked under the tight sleeves.

“Something strong would be nice,” you say holding your chin up, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of the most well known man in the school. With a wave of his finger and a command in a language you didn’t know, two shots of clear liquid were slammed on the table, and Zemo picked one up with a cheeky smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him and nervously picked up the shot glass with shaky hands. Lifting it up to your nose, your face contorted into an expression of disgust at the smell of acetone. “What is this?”

With a rumbling chuckle from Zemo, your cheeks blushed slightly, silently scolding yourself for losing your composure. He raised his glass and with a tilt of his head, he responded “Rakija, essentially European moonshine. I’ll take a shot with you, it can be too strong for some Americans.”

Silently, you nodded and raised the shot glass, mimicking his actions. Once he swiftly threw back the liquid into his mouth, you followed, and immediately wanted to gag. It burned as it went down your throat, the taste of pure chemicals became overwhelming, and you managed to keep a straight face through it all. Zemo slammed his glass back onto the table and took a step towards you in order to be able to communicate over the loud music.

“I apologize for being such a rude host, but I don’t recognize you.” The smell of rich cologne flooded your nostrils, and you could’ve melted right there. His eyes peered down onto you, being that you were significantly shorter than the man towering over your body, and you licked your lips.

“I usually stay in my dorm, I’m pre-med.” You held your hand out politely, “(Y/N).”

Zemo’s rough hands took hold of your own, lowering his head to leave a kiss on the indents of your knuckles. Without standing up straight, he raises his eyes to look at you through his eyebrows, “It’s a pleasure to meet you (Y/N), I hope you’re enjoying the party.”

His voice was like smooth caramel and melted chocolate, just the right mix of salty and sweet. His thick accent burned into your head with the way he said your name, and your hand was tingling from where his lips met your knuckles. After hearing the stories of his charming ways, you wanted to call bullshit, but experiencing this first hand was completely different. There was some truth to the rumors of the mysterious Baron, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to find out more. The man simply oozed sex appeal.

“I actually just got here with Wanda. She’s off somewhere with Vision.” You were proud of how you managed to keep your voice at a steady level, knowing that your mind was going crazy with how close the two of you were.

Zemo’s eyebrow perked up at the mention of Wanda’s name and held out his hand with the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly, “Any friend of Wanda’s is a friend of mine, care to dance (Y/N)?”

Every fiber of your being wanted you to run, knowing that if you went to dance with him, there was no turning back. Still, you couldn’t stop your hand from being placed into his, and he swiftly pulled you along towards the dance floor. 

Sweaty bodies surrounded the two of you, but you could only focus on his eyes engulfing the way the dress hugged your body in all the right spots. He placed his hand on the small of your back where the dress was open, the touch sending shivers down your spine. The Baron’s hands were warm, completely contrasting the iciness of your skin. 

With another hand on your waist and a smirk, he began moving his hips, which you soon followed. As the song went on, the distance between you got smaller and smaller, until your chest was practically smushed against his. You lifted your left hand to run through his chestnut brown hair, and it was as soft as you expected it to be.

“Of course it is,” you thought to yourself. “A Baron deserves only the most expensive products.”

“You’d think I would know everyone on campus, but your beauty caught me by surprise.” His breath felt hot against your ear, and you swallowed thickly.

“Not many people know me,” you countered.

“What a shame, isn’t it darling?” The use of pet names was enough to make your knees buckle, especially when paired with the Sokovian drawl, but you shook your head in defiance.

“He probably says that to all the girls.” Even so, you wished your mind would be quiet so you could appreciate this moment for what it is. The chance to dance with the bachelor everyone was pining for, but he was only paying attention to you.

You didn’t respond, only picking up the pace of your swaying hips, grinding against his thigh. Zemo exhaled a quick breath, and wasted no time to smash his lips onto yours. This action sent electricity through your body, the taste of the alcohol on his breath only made him more alluring, and your mouth copied his movements. Teeth clacked against one another, but neither of you cared. The only thing you could think about was the feeling of his fingers trailing down your back, and the way you fit with him like a lost puzzle piece.

Zemo grabbed at the nape of your neck, signaling to deepen the kiss with a tightening grip and a nip at your bottom lip, but you pulled away before you did something you regret.

With a confused look, Zemo licked his lips. “Care to go upstairs to my room?”

“Actually,” you say breathlessly, “I think it’s better if I head out.” Regretfully, you untangle your bodies and take a step back from the powerful man standing in front of you.

Without taking a second to think about what you’ve just done, you turn and make your way to the exit, but not without glancing at the Baron one last time. 

His eyes never left you, and he stood still as you walked through the doors.

#zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #marvel #wanda maximoff #vision #zemo imagine #zemo fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #the avengers #college!au #college!zemo #bucky barnes #pietro maximoff

[neovrse]

— TEASER

“dude, it means i have a crush on you”

genre — fluff, angst, mark lee being his regular cute self

warnings — swearing, sexual themes, sexual tension, smut, exhibition, oc is pretty harsh to mark at times, she is a literal ice queen. mark not knowing how to talk to girls

word count — tba (somewhere inbetween 13k-20k

songs to listen to — i like u by niki and ordinary love by park kyung ft park bom

summary — mark is not your friend. you would even consider him a senior because you guys are the same age. you had no problems with mark, until your group’s comeback got pushed back because of a collab you have to do with sm’s golden boy. now you have to spend every waking day with the boy in order to get your work out faster. there is absolutely no room for a friendship between you and mark. it’s strictly business in your eyes. mark on the other hand cannot help but wonder where this arrangement could take the two of you

release date — sometime next week, will clarify as i get more done

an — if you want me to tag you when it is released just send me an ask

you would hardly consider mark lee to be your friend. colleague, senior if you really had to watch your honorifics around the staff but friend would be an exaggeration 

interactions with him when you were a trainees together were limited and short. he was a shy boy he barely met your eyes or anyone’s for that matter as he was still getting accustomed to the new country he was continuing his life in. as soon as mark arrived he threw himself into practicing at a young age which to assumed was to cope with the new changes in his life 

all the late nights you walked passed the dance practice room or the studio and saw the boy practicing himself to the bone, seemed to pay off as mark debuted a whole year before you

there was no sense of resentment as you knew the boy worked hard without ever telling him to his face, you were happy for him 

though none of the events in his life impacted yours as you continued with your daily lessons and dance practices. seeing all of you fellow friends who debuted before you just motivated you to work harder 

it was finally your turn, a few trainees you became close to were finally given the opportunity to debut. you could easily say there was nothing like the preparation for your groups debut 

majority of the stuff you have done in the past to prepare yourself were individual so you were stepping into foreign territory 

you moved away from your parents and moved into a dorm with your members. the five of you ate together, practiced together and recorded together, which was crucial to build the relationship with one another 

after spending so much time together, you could confidently call them your best friends, something you never experienced since moving to korea 

after debut you rarely saw mark, he was a busybody even when his group was not promoting, he was almost always doing other schedules and promotions 

for the entire year, you almost completely forgot who mark lee even is

well until now

you were told to dress nicely by your manager. to meet her downstairs for whatever reason while all you members remained asleep from the long night of recording an ost for a drama, you couldn’t careless about 

while hoping the backseat of the van, your manager sat beside you and looked at you with tired eyes. you felt bad for her, she was always there. always punctual and never failed to set you guys straight. what a lot of you guys forgot to realize at times was the she had a life too and a family outside of the group

she deserved better than babysitting a bunch of 20 something year olds 

“honey, just a heads up, you are gonna have a meeting with the creative team today” she finally spoke as she sent you a weak smile

“why just me?” you sat up as you placed your airpods in your ear but held back from playing anything 

“i am not too sure, i am sorry” manager lim apologized with her face already flushed. you raised your hand lightly telling her it's fine

“its okay, a surprise wont kill me?”

 that was your first wrong 

when you walked into the room, all eyes were on you as if you were late. you noticed a man who looked much older than manager lim stand up first as he bowed. next to him was a brown haired boy who you instantly recognized as mark. why was he here anyways?

“ah, you are finally here” you met with the eyes of the man you knew as mr. hong who was the head of the creative team that usually worked with your group as well as nct. The questions were still floating around in your head, why were you and mark the only one present?  with the curiosity still lingering in your thoughts, you bowed to the staff that were in the room

when you got to mark, his head was already tilted downwards, you barely even got a glimpse at the boy before bowing quickly and slipping into the seat closest to you at the table 

“i am sure the two of you are curious as to why it is just you and not your members?” mr. hong smiled obviously trying to ease up the stiffness that was clear as day 

mark and you nodded respectfully awaiting the answer for their long lasting questions, “we have been planning for you to start your solo career later this year. we have been working really hard trying to think of ways to get you started” he spoke towards you as your expression remained unresponsive 

“yeah, we really appreciate your time and effort” manager lim bowed, her eyes widened as she noticed your stiff figure, she pinched your thigh roughly, have some respect, she mouthed to you as you quickly ducked your head while rubbing their throbbing stop on your thigh 

“of course, uh” mr. hong cleared his voice, why did he look so nervous anyways?, “mark, you have been our ace for so long and in my opinion no one is a better rapper than you” mr. hong praised the boy across from you as mark quickly became flustered. he never did know how to take compliments.  

mark muttered a quick thank you before looking back down at his hands, “both of you guys are very talented so we came up with the idea that the both of you should collab together” you stopped all your movements as you heard the last word fall from mr. hong’s lips, collab?

you sat up straight in your chair, opening your mouth to decline the idea right way until you felt manager lim grab your shoulder and guide you back into your seat

“collab? i thought vixen were having a comeback soon” manager lim spoke up, taking the words right out of your mouth

“sooyoung-ah, it's still early in the year. the kids will have plenty of time to resume their comeback preparation” mr. hong quickly said as you felt manager lim sigh lowly from her spot next to you 

you felt your blood boil and it was clear that you were seeing red right now. after all the preparation the five of you and manager lim have done. the endless dark nights at the studio and early morning win the dance practice rooms for the last two weeks are all stopping all because of mark lee? 

the more you thought about it the angrier you became. they care so much about their precious that they have to mess with my girl’s comeback? you turned to manager lim with  a attonshed expression painted all over your face

looking at the pleading expression on manager lim’s face was enough to tell you that you had to hold your tongue and refrain from saying all the things that were racing through your mind

you let out a breath before looking up at mark who still refused to meet your eyes, was he some sort of coward? how could he avoid your gaze after he single handedly ruined your group's chances at an early comeback this year? not only that but trampled all over your solo activities being well solo 

“the two of you are the same in age, so why not drop honorifics” mr. hong chuckled lightly still trying to slice through the tension in the room. to your horror, mark nodded and you followed suit 

“ah great to see the two of you get a long already” mr. hong clapped as he patted his hand on mark’s shoulder but knew better than to come near you with that deadly expression your face 

“when we were thinking of a concept we came up with something like a new and young love concept. the two of you are so young and mark has his adorable boy-ish charm” you recognized the voice came from miss kim. you almost gagged at his words direct towards the brown haired boy

“also it would be good for you to do a more soft concept for once to show your fans your duality” she winked at you, it was true your group were more use to darker and sexier concepts

you had no words so you settled on a simple nod, for the first time since you came into the room you were one avoiding marks eyes they fell open your figure 

he hasn't had a good look at you since god knows how long. your hair was short, contrasting the lengthy black hair you had when he first met you. was it seven years ago already? he lost track of time as soon as he became a trainee. it was like he was introduced into a whole new world  

mark suddenly remembered the little conversations he had with you in the past. he could barely even let out one word to you at school or at training classes because at that time girls were an unsolved mystery to him. you were just teenagers back then. ironic that the two of you see each other for the first time in so long, on terms such as these 

“the two of you are very talented so we want you to be a part of the songwriting process” bait. almost everyone in the agency knew you were a songwriting junkie, but to write a song with mark? about love? even that did not seem possible 

“oh okay” mark finally chirped in. your head shot up as you looked at him like he was a madman, why would he agree so quickly?

“great! I hope you guys become good friends during this process. lets work hard!” mr. hong collected his papers that were scattered across the desk and made his way out the room. you stood up and bowed to him respectfully and the rest of the staff as they exited the room

without giving mark another glance, grabbed your phone from the table before walking out with pure rage. you heard manager lim’s heels clacking from behind you as she tried to catch up to you

mark sat there for an extra moment before his manager patted him on the shoulder and told him it’s time to go back to the dorm

mark was so out of it he couldn’t stop thinking about your actions and body language while you were in the room. you seemed upset, no you seeemed angry

was it because of him? what did he do do make you so mad at him?

he would make sure to ask you sometime along the road, considering this would not be the last time he would see you

the two of you had a lot of work to do together, starting now

#mark soft hours #mark lee scenarios #mark lee angst #mark lee au #nct u #nct 127 fluff #nct fake texts #nct au #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct imagines #nct dream blurbs #nct 127 blurbs #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #mark lee fluff #— my love🤍🤍

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Profile -- Eijiro Kirishima

Ahhh I finally finished this one! I love my loud red boy bless him

For @shorkbrian !!

Tws:  Fem reader, yandere, delusional mindsets, kidnapping, manipulation, stalking, mentions of death, normal yandere content, mentions of a high school setting

Tws (below cut): Noncon, throatfucking, pain content

This is also the first time I'm including my new severity scale (which I just made a post about before this one) in a profile!

================

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 6 Brutality: 5 Physical capability: 9 Mental/emotional instability: 6 Restrictiveness: 5 Sexual sadism: 6 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's actually not one of the yanderes that stalks from a distance - he's not so nervous that he can't approach you, no, he's comfortable enough to talk to you in person. Being away from you physically is almost painful, he wants to spend as much time with you as possible. He's also one you might catch onto a little bit, because he's just on the border of being a little lacking in self awareness to the point that he doesn't always realize when he's smothering you. Of course, it aligns well enough with his general personality that you won't think too much of it, just that he can be a little overbearing or clingy.

That being said, he does do his fair share of information collecting when you're not together. Boy is a master at data collection - he'll find socials you forgot you had, posts you made years ago, every major information collection site there is, he'll use to find everything he can about you. Your socials, your friends' socials, your relatives' socials. Even if you have one of those apps that lets you see who's stalking you on your social media, he's already planned ahead for that, and uses a variety of burner accounts so you never notice a thing.

Especially in later stages, as his mental stability is slowly worn down, he's prone to the classic yandere persona flip. Can go from his usual very energetic, spirited, happy go lucky sort of demeanor and, in very shocking and unexpected moments, become highly aggressive towards others, or even snap at you with an uncharacteristic coldness. However, he's aware enough to know he's doing it, and quickly backpedals once he does, apologizing and telling you he's just having a really bad day. Only these "bad days" seem to pile up quite a bit as time goes on.

Similarly, he becomes more delusional with time. At first he might actually be fairly receptive towards your friends, even male ones, and while his behaviors and stalking is present, it's not over-the-top just yet. It will take a few months but gradually he finds himself slipping into an increasing pattern -- just one more hour sitting outside your dorm room, just one more text, one more post of yours from five years ago, just one more of this or that and soon it's completely spiraled out of his control.

He's also aware enough at first to realize you might not be too keen on, you know, essentially imprisonment. If it weren't so fucked up, it would almost be funny to watch him - rehearsing the whole speech he will have to give to darling when she wakes up to himself in the mirror, nervously pacing, not making eye contact the whole time he's explaining himself and later finishing off telling you you're here forever with a "so, uh, yeah," and a nervous little laugh. He's a bit panicked himself but will do his best to calm poor darling down, and, as he tells himself, your initial reaction will be bad, but you'll adjust.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

He's surprisingly patient and can bide his time. If you're good, he's one of a few where you may be able to prolong your freedom and evade captivity for a very long time, years even. In order to achieve this, though, you'll have to never question his very much questionable behaviors, listen to him when he says not to talk to anyone else, spending every waking moment with him, that sorta thing. So really, it only works for a very naive darling who is already paranoid of others. For most people, who will, you know, call him out on his bullshit, he'll change his mind about letting you be free pretty quickly.

This is especially true if he feels like he's losing you -- if you just get upset that's one thing, but if he senses you're starting to become wary of him or even avoid him, he'll be pushed to the edge very quickly. He's not the brightest when it comes to his methods, most likely opting for a very simple break-in during your sleep or kidnapping you on the way home sort of deal.

He was something of this "waiting period," a time some types of yanderes have where they try to be normal. These types of yanderes are most likely to start of their relationships as normal and organic and only gradually devolve, or snap, into a higher state of delusion and unhealthy behavior. He's no exception to this, and you may get a few months of a very normal relationship with only small red flags that seem to be gradually increasing. 

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

To escape, only moderate difficulty, actually. To stay escaped? That's a different story.

You see, he's got a slight predator-prey thing going on and will most likely give you a window of opportunity here or there (not a lot, only when he's carefully arranged it out). Early on he has a tracking device implanted in you while you're knocked out, but never tells you about it. He'll let you get a little ways, never so far that there's any risk, and always stays within very close proximity. Watching your worried eyes as you can't shake the feeling of something watching you, knowing you're questioning your own sanity in your state of paranoia. It's really cute, watching you dart your head back and forth into the shadows, every which way except for the actual place he's standing. Will wait until you inevitably run into seclusion, when you take that turn onto a corner with no eyewitnesses, when you duck into a business closed for the night for cover, and he'll have a hand around your mouth before you can even make a noise.

He knows he should be mad, but he gets off to it so much it's hard to be genuinely angry rather than just... Roughly exerting the pent up energy into you. Which in and of itself is something of a punishment.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

It's a mix of "more intelligent than he lets on," and "still kinda on the dull side." In particular, he's not very good at telling when someone is lying. It's honestly a coin toss every time you try, which actually makes it more difficult, really. You'll be just hopeful enough that maybe you can deceive him on this one thing, but there's a 50-50 chance it won't work. Unlike a super intelligent yandere who you automatically know better than to try, you'll keep getting your hopes up and trying with him, which ultimately results in more punishments when it fails.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He's moderate on allowances, but still restrictive on contact. As in, he'll get you the things you want, especially once he's making tons of money as a pro. Lets you have a highly controlled phone, complete with internet, but given a lock to prevent commenting or sending or uploading of any kind (aside from messages to him, of course). He doesn't really care too much about the media you consume or whatnot, but if he decides he doesn't like something specifically -- say, youtube videos on lockpicking -- then he'll probably take it away for a time until he can figure out how to better control it.

He's one to let you roam his place to an extent, once again it's a case-by-case basis of "you have this privilege until you do something to lose it." You can cook and access the kitchen until an incident of you hurting yourself or attacking him. You can watch tv and roam around until you break something intentionally out of spite. That sort of thing -- he deals with the problems when they arise, but is generally fairly lenient on your allowances, so really it's very unwise to take that privilege for granted, since it's a lot more than what a lot of yans would allow.

When you're really really good, he'll definitely let you go out with him. As we'll discuss, he likes to emulate normalcy, and really likes the fun kind of dates - theme parks and movies and the like. It'll be quite a while before you get to this stage though, as he has to feel 100% confident you won't try anything at all. Of course, if you do try anything, the privilege will be lost until you earn it back. However, this will also be entirely undercover on his end, probably wearing masks and sunglasses or the like. He doesn't want people to see you with him and recognize him, like a lot of the mha yans, he fears the potential of someone using you against him.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Once again a "make them up as you go" guy. Listen, he didn't plan much beyond the initial kidnapping you and security, so there's a lot he hasn't thought about. From day one, what's made clear is you're not to leave and that you need to accept the way things are as soon as possible, and you know, be a doll and be sweet for him. As time goes on things get added -- don't look up this or that, don't attack or resist, don't backtalk him, don't give him the cold shoulder, etc etc. Over time it will amount to a lot, actually, you see, he's got a very specific image of how you should behave in his mind. Anything that deviates from that will quickly become a rule. So it's kind of like a puzzle for poor darling, you're not given an exact image of what you're supposed to act like or what you're not allowed to do, you just gradually find out with trial and error and an ever-growing behavioral rule list what is and isn't acceptable

.He can't stand isolation punishments, can't take being away from you for that long. He might try at first, but, almost comically, he cracks very early and brings you back out (just went you thought you were gonna get a break from him). It's primarily, (in our sfw section) a matter of losing privileges. To him, he knows that one of the worst punishments is boredom, so he'll take away your things that occupy you and leave you with nothing, potentially restraining you to a single room, so that you eventually cave and apologize.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

He uses social methods or underhanded, subtle tricks to eliminate people rather than killing them. Frames them for stealing, or some other misdeed to get them expelled, ruins their social reputation, fakes messages to make you hate them, maybe even to make them hate you. that's during the school-age stages of things. Now, an older hero Kirishima, definitely uses his status to get things done the way he wants. Come on, who in their right mind would try to take the girl of a pro hero to begin with? They were asking for it. He has a few similar methods -- ruins their public image, frames them for a crime, or, if they're persistent enough, may very well just use a couple connections to make sure they disappear -- potentially disappear entirely, or perhaps get permanently hospitalized from a bad accident, become the random victim of some villains, etc.

That being said, during the pre-kidnapping stages, he's definitely gonna start fights with other dudes for looking at you the wrong way. Even if it's horrifically embarrassing, he thinks of it as a show of manliness. You'll eventually have to pull him off and calm him down before he pummels the poor victim of choice completely. Over time, this earns him a reputation for being insanely protective, and it makes people start to avoid both him and you, which is all the better in his mind.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

With most things, he's pretty slow to anger, tries to be very patient and understanding. You have to wittle down that patience with repeated and deliberate disobedience to get a snap out of him - which is highly possible, considering poor darling initially is given no bad reaction. You'll think he's a pushover since he doesn't get super mad the first time, or the second or third, so when he finally does snap it's pretty frightening - it's all the irritation bottled up and released at once.

He tries hard to project the image of who he's known to be - a chill, good natured, optimistic guy, which is why he manages to be so patient. He doesn't want that image ruined for you, and he's very very particular about, and worries about, the image of him in your mind. He has a deep need for you to see him as a heroic figure, to look up to him, and to see him as above you, so he doesn't want to ruin that with violence and anger.

It's usually a literal snap of some sort - whatever he's holding gets slammed down on the table, or crushed or snapped in half (say, a glass or pen). His voice gets low, and builds up into a snarl. Definitely one to grab you by the hair. Drags you to wherever he deems a suitable place to take care of your issues.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

He doesn't think about these things too much, and really, he's somewhat in the middle or can even fluctuate. A lot of it depends on you. If you're good and obedient, he treats you like you're an angel, says he doesn't deserve you. Now, if you're not being so good, he might sometimes let the frustrations slip out into some bitterness, likewise muttering that you should be a bit more grateful that someone like him loves you so much.

That being said, he does want you to see him as above you, wants you to look up to him and, simply, he wants you to think he's amazing and heroic! He goes out of his way to repeatedly impress you with displays of strength and the like, and, like a lot of the hero yanderes, will frequently subject you to watching the news of him saving people. He exaggerates his heroics significantly and makes sure you know just how many people he saved, and of course, he makes sure to show you every girl that blows up his phone after finding his number somehow, all the adoring females fans, and so on, in a very blatant attempt to make you jealous -- having all those fans does get his ego going a bit.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Definitely strongly determined. He wants not only your acceptance, but also to somewhat normalize the relationship. He emulates a lot of normal behaviors like aforementioned dates, but also things like "date night" at home (cuddles on the couch and watching TV, playing games, takeout etc), little good morning texts for you to wake up to when he has to leave early, making food together. It's so tender and sweet that sometimes you could almost forget that you're being trapped against your will. It also, of course, is very beneficial for his imperatives, considering that that sweetness will only help you adjust more quickly.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Probably the previously noted extent to which he strives towards a very butchered resemblance of normalcy. It's like he wants to just be a normal couple... but he doesn't, he can't. I'd say that even he himself kind of struggles with it a bit -- psychologically, he's one of the yanderes that deludes himself because he has to. It doesn't come super naturally, it's that, being forced to recognize how unhealthy and harmful his extreme controlling and possessiveness is, to come to terms with the fact that those urges aren't normal... the guilt would eat him alive if he actually stopped to think about that, if he actually allowed himself to admit that reality to himself. So, he doesn't. He will push that thought away, even though it does exist somewhere deep down, until the day he dies. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't delude himself into believing it's all necessary, and that he's good to you. A lot of his more lenient tendencies stem from this.

It's a conflict between parts of his brain -- a duality of sorts. One part says he wants the normalcy -- he wants dates and love and sex and fun and he wants it all organically, he doesn't want to be a kidnapper, doesn't want to have to do these things. But as much as he wishes he didn't have to, the other part of him does, in fact, say that he has to do these things. Yanderes that have these sorts of internal conflicts due to a strong sense of morality (which he DOES have, really) tend to have a "waiting period," as he does, which I mentioned above -- a time where they try to go about things normally but find themselves unable to.

As a result, I'd say he's one of the yanderes that's actually very likely to start off as an actual boyfriend, rather than a stranger or a friend. He's confident enough to ask you out and charming enough to get a yes, but he just can't control himself over time.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Like some of my other yans I've discussed, he has what you call reactive sexuality. On his own, he's average for a young man, but once he has someone he really has a lot of affection for, that drive goes up significantly in their presence. There's a lot more stimulation, after all, it gets those hormones raging and the urge to fuck goes way up pretty quickly now that there's an availability.

He's moderate-to-heavy on the perversion for what you'd expect from a guy like himself. He's far from pure but he knows exactly how to teeter the line of being just gross enough to make you squirm and blush without being such a horndog that he actually offends you or drives you away. Not that he won't push that line as far as he can, constantly testing your boundaries.

As for touchiness, oof he's VERY touchy. Poor darling. It, like many things, increases with time in the pre-kidnapping stage -- even from the get go he's prone to slinging an arm over your shoulder or leaning on you, but that progresses into gradual soft gropes that you almost feel like you imagined, and extended touches, hands gripping your shoulders, etc. Post-kidnapping, very touchy all the time. Very much a cuddler and likes to grab at everything he can when he does so.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

It's eh, moderate, but ultimately, as in yandere nature, force will be used if necessary. He's so sweet about it at first that it almost doesn't even feel like it. He tells himself you're afraid, and any lashing out is just because of that. Even if you say he's the problem, he thinks that's just because you're embarrassed to admit you're scared. Everything you can come up with, he'll loop back to that rationalization. It helps him get over any potential guilt he'd otherwise have, which he certainly would if he didn't lie to himself.

He's so sweet about the whole thing its nauseating for poor darling. Wiping away any tears on your face, taking a long long time to prepare you up with fingers and touches and words, and telling you it'll be ok, that it only hurts for a second, that he'll make you feel so good, that you'll be happy this happened just as much as he is.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Oral fixation

This boy just... saying he wants you to blow him is understating it. He wants to throatfuck you -- grab you by the hair and use your face like a toy. In the beginning he'll be gentler, but he fantasizes about reaching a point at which he can really just go at it, train your gag reflex to be virtually non-existent. He likes to cum down your throat, but even more he loves pulling out at the last moment and telling you to hold your mouth open and tongue out, jerking off onto your tongue, getting some on your face, and telling you to swallow.

Roleplay/Lingerie

Specifically, he'll get into anything service related. Maid outfits galore. He loves treating you like a doll, really, dressing you up in whatever newest lewdest thing he can find. Definitely keeps up with the newest outfit trends of the egirl type of sphere -- loves the things like thigh highs, virgin killer sweaters, garters, anything of the sort. Very much into the "cutesy" type of stuff on you, expect lots of pastel colors and soft fluffy things. Also 100% will get a tail plug and animal ears of some kind. And it's not just for looks, he likes you to act out the role, too. He's actually super-blushy about the whole idea at first, but he does like the idea of being called "Master," especially when it's all soft and embarrassed coming out of your own mouth. 

Size difference/strength difference

It ties back into the thing of wanting you to look up to him. He loves loves loves seeing the faces and the little squeals you make for him when he gives you displays of raw strength - and he'll be sure to frequently remind you of exactly how strong he is. Standing-fucking, slinging you over his shoulder when he's dragging you back home, picking you up and throwing you on the bed, grabbing you by the hips and lifting your entire body up and down when you're on top of him and using you as effortlessly as if you were a near-weightless fleshlight.

No matter which size you may be, he loves it whichever way. If you're tiny and short it gives him an automatic power rush, but if you're larger and taller he loves that too - it gives him a massive ego boost that he can pin you down and control your body with such ease, bonus points if you thought he couldn't since you're bigger than he is.

Size kink pt 2

Also a size related thing, but specifically dick. Listen I refuse to believe this man doesn't have a girthy, thick dick. And he loves the things it can do to you -- the way you gasp and shudder, even little whimpers of pain. He feels bad if there's any pain, but he can't help but get off to the squeals just a little bit, the tears in your eyes are just so cute. Definitely loves making a visible bulge on your stomach, and will make sure you see it too, holding your head in place to force you to watch your stomach bulge every time he thrusts in. Bulging your throat is equally hot, as mentioned above. And he loves the way that there's just that slightly visible gape for a few minutes after he pulls out as your body adjusts.

Threeways

Perhaps very rare for a yandere, he's one of a few that isn't 100% opposed to sharing, provided it's with special individuals, namely a certain blonde friend. Not so much in the relationship aspect, but a sexual one, and it's very well-controlled on his end, with him having the ultimate power over the whole situation. There will always be things that only HE can do to you that no one else can, of course, and it's all only with those he trusts to never spill about your existence. Still, he just really really likes seeing you get spitroasted, really. Can you blame him?

And of course, he'll make sure to get reassurance from you that you only love him and don't care about Katsuki at all, and if he ever gets even the slightest feeling that that might not be the case, it's a kink he'll give up easily if it means soothing the potential raging jealousy.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He actually really, really likes the thought of being a dad. It's sort of a pride thing, having a family he can love and support (it's not like you're gonna be allowed to work), showing you off to everyone. And of course, the emotional attachment you'll undoubtedly form, the dependency you'll have on him. 

Getting to watch cum drip out of you and never having to pull out is a nice bonus, too.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Big into overstim. It's perfect because it's a punishment that is both effective, doesn't technically hurt you, and releases all those good chemicals all at the same time. He doesn't initially want to hurt you too bad, but, if you're really bad -- either in terms of the severity of the offense or the number of times you continue to do it -- he can reach a point of anger at which he'll resort to impact-pain-based punishments, too. Ever the sweet one, he actually does research first to make sure he won't go too far and seriously injure you, but once's he's made all the right purchases, I could see him settling on riding crops, he will make you hurt.

And, really, because it all gets him off at the same time -- the strangled little cries and mewls and whimpers are so much hotter than they should  be. He likely blindfolds you the whole time, partially to increase your fear and anticipation, but also so that you don't know he's jerking off to the whole thing.

The aforementioned throatfucking is also an effective and very quick, straight-to-the-point punishment when need be. If he's super mad and doesn't have the self control to take you elsewhere he may very well just dump you on your knees and demand you open your mouth or else you'll be in for a lot more pain. If he's in that kind of borderline-sadist mood he can get cruel with it too -- cumming in your mouth but not letting you swallow, making you hold the gross taste against your tongue for several minutes, or, his favorite guilty pleasure he feels too bad making you do most of the time, slamming your face all the way down and holding his cock all the way down your throat, perfectly still. No matter how hard you try to pull back or beat on his thighs, he has an iron grip and will hold you there until you nearly pass out.

Also, hell, just fucking him can be a punishment if he wants it to be. He can manhandle you with such a brutality and strength that it's genuinely painful. You want to know what it feels like to have a, literally, rock-hard dick ramming into your cervix?

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Very much a thigh boy. Not only are they soft and pillowy, but he loves to bite and suck at the insides of your thighs and leave lots and lots of marks. They're just as much for you as they are for him. He makes sure you always wear shorts or short skirts (or nothing is fine too) to make sure said marks are always within your vision.

#yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere kirishima #tw: non/con #tw: yandere

[thechanelmuse]

TW: rape

‘I May Destroy You,’ Michaela Coel’s gimlet-eyed exploration of trauma and its myriad ripple effects follows Arabella (Coel) — a funny, messy, sharp-as-hell London writer — after a dizzying night in which she’s drugged and raped by a stranger. At first, she dismisses the hazy memory as just an upsetting image in her head. Soon enough, though, Arabella reluctantly comes to understand it as the truth, and tries to work through that horrifying reality without coming apart. [...]

Not every part of Arabella has a direct line to Coel, but the series’ catalyzing experience, unfortunately, does. In 2016, Coel took a break from a marathon writing session for the second season of “Chewing Gum” to grab a drink with a friend, and was drugged and assaulted by a stranger. She’s been sifting through the emotional wreckage ever since to find some kind of clarity, if not peace. Now, with “I May Destroy You,” she’s doing it for all the world to see. “As a fellow android exploring what it means to be human,” says Coel’s friend Janelle Monáe, “watching Michaela be vulnerable on-screen as she walks in her truth gives me and so many the bravery to walk in ours.” [...]

Coel began writing “I May Destroy You” in February 2017, in between acting in TV projects like the “USS Callister” episode of “Black Mirror” and Netflix’s limited series “Black Earth Rising.” She took solo mountain trips and wrote draft after draft of what would eventually become “I May Destroy You,” spilling her stories and tangled guts onto the page, rearranging them into shapes she could better recognize. In August 2018, she spoke about her trauma publicly while delivering the Edinburgh International Television Festival’s James MacTaggart Memorial Lecture, a prestigious assignment the festival has otherwise bestowed on a cadre of white British television mainstays (as well as no fewer than three Murdochs). 

The majority of Coel’s speech, delivered to a room of the U.K.’s most powerful entertainment brokers, traced the constant racism and classism she endured on the way to that Edinburgh stage — a theme subtextually underlined by the fact that Coel was, and remains, the only Black woman to have that platform. She spoke about turning her solo play “Chewing Gum Dreams” into a “Chewing Gum” TV series (which aired 2015-17 on the U.K.’s Channel 4), a transformative time that taught her the technicalities of making television and confirmed just how disinclined certain white gatekeepers are to trust a poorer Black woman’s vision. Toward the end of the 50-minute lecture, Coel revealed her assault and elucidated the industry’s inability — or unwillingness — to handle such a human emergency when pages are due. As for her recovery, she said, “It’s been therapeutic to write about it, and actively twist a narrative of pain into something with more hope, and even humor.”

When it finally came time to translate it all to the screen, “I May Destroy You” was so close to her bruised heart that Coel took on the challenge of playing several roles throughout the series’ development: creator, writer, actor, producer, director. Netflix offered her a total fee of a cool $1 million to make and star in the show, but the proposed contract wouldn’t grant Coel even a tiny percentage of the rights. She hadn’t fully realized how much claiming legal proprietorship over her work mattered to her until the prospect of not being able to emerged, at which point it became crucial. 

Then, after some Googling, she realized that her CAA agents would also be profiting from the deal via the endangered practice of packaging. Stung and surprised, Coel walked away from both her agents and the offer. “I’m not anti-Netflix,” she’s quick to say now, “but I am pro-‘the creator, writer, director, actor should probably have a right.’” She’s hyper-aware of how much this project required of her, and how comparatively little granting her “a right” might cost a powerful network like Netflix. “That’s not quite fair, is it?” Coel muses. Creating the show, after all, took almost everything she had.

With the BBC, a million-dollar paycheck might not have been in the cards, but more important to Coel, she didn’t have to fight half as hard to claim ownership. (As a matter of industry course, it’s far more common for British studios to afford creators rights to their work than it is for American equivalents.) They struck a deal, and Coel got to work.[...]

“When you’re restricted,” she explains, “sometimes that’s where you find great things: in the lack of possibility.” She attributes this rather Zen approach to Hugo Blick, the “Black Earth Rising” showrunner who showed her the value of keeping a cool, empathetic head on set. Blick’s ability to step away from a gnarly situation for even 30 calming seconds is one that Coel has worked to hone for herself, especially while steering a series with such fraught ties to her history. No matter how sideways things might go, she never wants to forget just how much she loves the collaborative act of building a television show, wild complications and all. 

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From Forbes:

I May Destroy You’s Michaela Coel Rejected Netflix’s $1 Million Offer In Favor Of The BBC Because Of Ownership

The creative, who stars as Arabella and wrote all 12 episodes, started pitching the programme in the spring of 2017 with one of her first ports of call being Netflix who picked up her prior series Chewing Gum.

Though Netflix offered a generous upfront fee of $1 million (£800,000), the sum had strings attached, including full rights ownership away from the creator, something Coel pushed back against. Coel recalls a moment during the interview where she is speaking with a Netflix development executive on the phone, asking if she could retain even a very small 0.5% of the copyright to her show.

“There was just silence on the phone. And she said, ‘It’s not how we do things here. Nobody does that, it’s not a big deal,’” Coel recollected. “I said, ‘If it’s not a big deal, then I’d really like to have 5 % of my rights,’” Coel added, stating that she even went down to 2%, and then 1% and even as a final compromise to 0.5%.

Coel remembers that the executive said she would have to run it passed her superiors, before adding, “‘Michaela? I just want you to know I’m really proud of you. You’re doing the right thing.'”

“I remember thinking, I’ve been going down rabbit holes in my head, like people thinking I’m paranoid, I’m acting sketchy, I’m killing off all my agents,” Coel says. “And then she said those words to me, and I finally realized — I’m not crazy. This is crazy.”

Coel discovered her agents, Creative Artists Agency (CAA) were set to make an undisclosed amount from the series if she took the deal with Netflix. She reveals that the agency pushed her to take the deal prior to her finding out and their subsequent dismissal as her U.S. representation.

Taking the project to British broadcaster the BBC later in 2017, Coel found the corporation to be supportive with her maintaining creative control even with the explicit depictions of sex, sexual assault and drug use. Plus, as the broadcaster had to adhere to terms of trade, Coel had no problem with retaining the rights also. The broadcaster also brought HBO to the table as another co-producer to help subsidise a portion of the budget.

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This isn’t about just “knowing your worth;” it’s about knowing the business (your business) and never settling just to secure “something.” A million dollar offer, no copyright ownership and no creative control is beyond disrespectful. Learn the business in whatever field you’re in and stay acclimated with jargon and new, current and old practices. Know your shit. 

It’s like when people say “Get a lawyer” to handle negotiations and look over your paperwork. You pay a lawyer to do a job, but it does not mean you should be oblivious to aspects of law and contract jargon among other things because “that’s what they’re there to do.” You can’t say someone (sometimes lawyers included) screwed you over after you’ve signed the dotted line. They’re protecting and looking out for themselves. Commit to do the same for yourself.

#michaela coel #i may destroy you #film business #ownership #hbo #bbc #netflix #business

[imaginedxlan]

Pike (George Weasley)

a/n: i have an addiction. i’m sorry. take this platform away from me. anyway ENEMIES TO LOVER BITCHES.

You’ve always hated George Weasley. You can’t quite explain why, but the two of you have had bad blood since the moment you met freshman year. it’s nothing either of you said or did, just the general presence of the other always set something off in the two of you. however, you weren’t going to give up partying at his frat just because you hated the red haired boy.

warnings: alcohol & cussing, unconsensual touching but it isn’t graphic(not by george obv), mentions of sex and assault/sexual violence, violence and fratboy!georgie

i’m very serious when i say do not read this if you’re easily triggered or impacted by the theme of sexual assault. there is nothing graphic in this fic but i know it is very easy to be triggered by even the smallest mention. if you ever and i mean EVER need someone to talk to about anything pertaining to the topic, my messages are always open. dealing with sexual assault in any form is one of the most traumatising things a person can go through. please never hesistate to reach out if you’re struggling. i love you guys so much, i never want to go suffer in silence.

if you or someone you know if struggling with a rape or sexual assault, you can call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected to a sexual assault service provider in your area. all my hugs and kisses to you all, i love you with all my heart❤️

saturday nights on campus are nothing short of lively for you and your friends. whether you’re testing your fake ids at every bar on the main street or dancing in a sweaty frat basement, there’s never been a dull weekend.

pike has always been your favorite fraternity to attend . you’d become close with some of the pledges on your floor your freshman year and have become obsessed with shutting down every function they hold at the house. there is one part of pi kappa alpha, however, that you could do without. george weasley.

the six three, red haired monster has been getting under your skin for an entire year now. since you met in your first semester of freshman year, you and george had never been on good terms. between the constant teasing from him or your drunk screaming matches that you’ve initiated almost every weekend, it’s safe to say that you two need to be kept as far away from each other as possible.

your friends have never understood the feud. they’ve always described george as one of the nicest guys they’ve ever met. he takes their coats at the door of every pike party to hide in his room to keep them safe from the drunk kleptomaniacs or vomit that inevitably spews from the mouth of a freshman girl. he’s always kept an eye out for your friends, but when it comes to you he swears if murder was legal you’d be six feet under by now.

as you and your friends got ready in your shared apartment for the night ahead of you, the annual pike’s peak ski themed party, you loathe the fact that you’ll be forced to see him again. you wish more than anything that he wasn’t so close with your friends, but alas, he is.

“y/n, can you please promise me something?” Angelina pleads, making you pause your makeup routine to look at her as if to say ‘go on.’ “no fighting with george tonight, we all need one night when the two of you aren’t at each other’s throats.”

if only it were that easy. there have been times in the past when angie and katie have convinced you to play nice with the boy, but he always ends up starting some type of fight with you.

“angie i’ve told you, i have no problem ignoring him for the good of the group,” you reiterate the countless times you’ve tried to prove to the girls that you’re the bigger person. “it’s him you should be talking to, he always starts it.”

katie sighs, already imagining the screaming match that will ensue tonight. “well if he starts something just walk away, easy as that.”

you mull it over for a minute. as much as ignoring him will make it seem like you’ve run out of insults, your vocal chords could use the rest this weekend. you agree to try and keep your mouth shut around george.

the three of you zip up your obnoxiously bright ski jackets over the black sports bras and jeans you’re wearing. you loved pikes peak, you could put in virtually no effort and still look like you spent hours getting ready.

the pike house is already buzzing with the bass of whatever mix oliver wood put together for the party. it’s not a pike party without ollie behind the dj booth. the high that you’re on as you walk past the pledges fades as your faced with george weasley.

just ignore him.

“look at my most beautiful groupies,” he says with a smile, scanning over angie and katie. “and...whatever that is.”

you can already feel your cheeks heat up with rage and your fists tighten. you take a deep breath and repeat katie’s words just an hour ago, ‘walk away.’ you roll your eyes at the boy and move your way through the party, eventually taking your spot next to ollie behind the dj stand.

“well hey there miss y/n,” ollie greets you, resting his headphone around his neck and pulling you into a hug. “half expected you to be beating weasley to a pulp by now.”

you laugh at his honesty, everyone expects some huge blow up between you and george within the first few minutes of a party. “trying something new, ignoring him for the night. can’t tire myself too much.”

ollie just smiles and goes back to the music. you’re adding songs to the queue and laughing along with him. you almost forgot how much you missed spending time with him, most of your interactions with the boy group ending with a fight with weasley without even being able to talk with the other boys.

across the room, george is watching you actually enjoy yourself and is fuming. he’s so used to being able to get under your skin, so you blowing him off was a major knock to his ego. he thrives on your reactions to his teasing, feeling like he doesn’t even have a purpose at this party now that you’re ignoring him.

you eventually leave oliver behind the booth and find angelina and katie, luckily they’re now where near george, rather dancing with his twin. you’ve always liked fred, but your constant arguing with his brother makes it hard for you to have any sort of friendship with him. this is the first pike party you’ve been to all year that you’re genuinely enjoying yourself. dancing with your friends, drinking without a care. the night is actually starting to look up.

you tell angie and katie that you’re off to the bathroom, the beers and seltzers finally catching up to your bladder. as you make your way through the crowd of people, you finally make it to the bathroom which is in the furthest corner of the house. before you can reach for the handle, someone is grabbing at your wrist.

“let’s go to my room.” the boy slurs, you turn to see a tall boy, far taller than you. you recognise his face but don’t know his name.

“no than-“

“i wasn’t asking,” he cuts you off and grabs your hip with his other hand. “come on i know you want to.”

“no just get off of me!” you yell trying to push his hands away from you but his death grin on your body doesn’t seem to be loosening. using your free hand you start beating the boys chest and that seems to just make him angrier. “you’re hurting me! just get off, i’m not coming to your room!”

even though you feel like your screaming the loud music seems to drown out the noise from anyone who could come and help you. even though the boy is obviously stronger than you, that doesn’t stop you from continuing to hit him in the hopes that his drunken state will take him off of you. your efforts are to no avail as his mouth connects with your neck, sucking harshly, making you scream out again. your head is thrashing, continuing to attempt to free yourself from his grasp.

“no! stop get off of me, please!” you shriek, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks. before you can realize what’s going on the boy is ripped from you and pinned up against the wall. you don’t even look to see what’s happening, just trying the catch your breath.

“she said no!” you immediately recognize the voice. george weasley. he fist connects with the boys jaw, almost knocking him unconscious as he’s still pushed against the wall. “what the fuck is wrong with you pucey! don’t you ever fucking touch her again!”

george still screaming as the boy you know realize is adrian pucey, is wailing in pain as george’s fists continue to meet his body. you don’t want to watch this anymore so you grab george’s hand before he can hit adrian again.

“stop, please.” it’s softer than you wanted it to come out but george still hears you. he drops adrian to the ground and takes a hold of your shoulders. even in the dark he’s examining your face for any sign of adrian’s abuse, his eyes land on the growing bruise on your neck and his fingers lightly trace over the mark. his other hands goes to your face, using his thumb to wipe the stream of tears.

“are you okay?” he asks quietly, eyes still trained on the hickey adrian unconsensually left on your neck. “i would’ve killed him.”

“why are you doing this, weasley?” you step back from him, crossing yours arms over your chest. “go on and tell everyone how you had to pull pucey off of me. how i was crying like a little baby. how helpless i was, i know that why you’re here.”

a flash a hurt crosses his face, he shakes his head. “is that really what you think of me?”

“of course it is, you’ve never given me a reason to think anything else,” you reply, wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks. “just leave weasley, i can’t take whatever’s going to come out of your mouth, not tonight okay? i could’ve handled this myself.”

“yeah you were doing a great job of handling it before i came it,” he scoffs and goes to walk away, kicking pucey one last time for good measure, but stops himself. “would you just stop arguing and follow me?”

you go to protest but figure you’re not in any mood to argue with him. he reaches his hand out to guide you through the sea of people but your arms stay folded against your chest. he rolls his eyes and leads you up the stairs and into a bedroom. you’d never been in his bedroom before. he goes into his closet to pull out a sweatshirt and tosses it your way.

“i’m not wearing this,” you tell him, throwing it back at him and he groans at your stubborn attitude. “why am i in your room, weasley?”

“does the word thank you not exist in your vocabulary?” he asks with a bitter tone. “i don’t care if you wear it, i’m leaving.”

he slams the door behind him and leaves you by yourself again. you look in the mirror on his wall at the disheveled sight looking back at you. your mascara collected under your eyes from your tears, the dark hickey from pucey on your cheek, bruises forming on your wrist and hip. you thought you had cried all the tears out before but seeing the damage he had done pulls sobs from your lips. you’re shaking at the memory of what happened, the thought of what could have happened. you collapse on george’s floor.

almost immediately the door swings open. you’re hoping maybe george told angie or katie and they were coming to take you home but it’s just george standing there. he never left his door, seeing pucey attack you like that made him fear that it might happen to you again. he quickly shuts the door behind him and crouches next to you as you struggle to catch your breath.

“hey, hey what’s going on you were fine a few second ago,” he tries to read your face but it’s hidden in your hands. “look at me, y/n, please.”

you lift your face to look him in the eyes. your puffy eyes and red cheeks make his heart sink. this is the first time he’s looked at you and felt something other than utter annoyance. you look so sad.

“i-i’m so s-scared,” you stutter through your speech. “if you hadn’t come he could’ve, it would have turned into -”

“don’t talk like that,” he begs you, still staying a bit of a distance from you. “i was there, i stopped it. you’re safe now.”

once you calm down he pleads for you to lay down and get some rest. you finally take the sweatshirt from him and wrap it around your body. he leans down to crouch in front of you, your eyes still welled with tears. he pats your head and goes to leave. in reality he would be posted outside the door for the rest of the night, but he’d never tell you that. As he shuts off the lights and opens the door, you squeak out a plea, “can you stay? please.”

george hesitates, he knows showing any kind of compassion for you in this moment will inevitably put a rift in your strict enemies only relationship. the one he’s been so set on keeping since he started developing feelings for you last semester. the only way he could keep you close while also concealing his feelings was to pick those fights with you every weekend. this would change everything.

however, seeing you curled up in his bed, shaking under his blankets, your eyes wide with fear broke something in him. he let out a deep sigh before closing his door again and locking it behind him. he stands in place for a minute, unsure of what to do from here.

“george,” you call out, voice cracking. you hadn’t called him by his first name in months. “thank you.”

“you haven’t called me george in a while.”

“shut up, weasley,” you immediately reply, making george chuckle. he decides to sit on the edge of his bad facing you, watching you continue to shake as sporadic sobs come from your frail frame. it’s breaking his heart. He eventually comes up to lay beside you, careful not to touch you. partly due to the fact that he knows you’re probably traumatised by pucey’s attack on you and also partly due to him knowing he may not be able to control himself from taking you in arms until you stop your terrible shaking.

it wasn’t george that first moved closer, it was you. you weren’t sure if it was the fact that he just saved you from a potentially life shattering situation or the fact that his room felt like subzero but you wanted to be close to him.

“why is your room so cold?” you ask with a shiver. “i feel like i’m in the arctic.”

“don’t be such a baby it’s not that cold,” he scoffs, giving you the same tone he always has. something in you is disappointed, partly hoping that maybe this changed something. maybe you were overthinking him being so doting on you tonight. of course things wouldn’t be different. why would you want them to be? what he did tonight he would do for any girl in thai party. while you don’t get to see that side of him, angie and katie have always talked about how protective he is, you just never thought it would extend to you.

“why’d you help me?” you ask, staring at him dead in the eyes. his breath hitches, he’s not sure why. he would do it for anyone, no questions asked. he’s never been the guy to look the other way when a girl is hurting, but what was he doing all of this for you. surely he wouldn’t bring just anyone up to his room, he wouldn’t stay if they asked.

“i wasn’t going to let pucey hurt you like that, i wouldn’t let him do it to anyone,” he replies, hoping you’ll be off the topic from now on.

“you would’ve killed him if i hadn’t stopped you.” george thinks back to the moment. how angelina had pleaded for him to find you after you’d been gone for so long. how he heard your cries over the music, you screaming no. how pucey had himself attached to you and the rage bubbled over in him.

“would you come off of it?” he asked sternly, fearing if this conversation moved any further he would be confessing that he’s never actually hated you. “i forgot how annoying you were for a second there, i’m getting out of here.”

your heart sinks at his words. you were already in shambles and he decided to be his same old asshole self. it hurt. you immediately sat up and watched as he grasped the door handle but didn’t turn it.

“classic, something gets hard and you’re running away,” you spit at him. you needed someone there, you needed him there, and he was running off. “go on weasley, be the little bitch you are, run off and tell everyone how big bad george weasley beat up pucey just to leave me up in your room where he could for sure do it again.”

“you just love running that fucking mouth of yours don’t you?” george snaps, his face beginning to heat up. this is always how it starts. his tone is playfully arrogant until it switches completely. “you think i would just leave you in here where anyone could come in? are you really that stupid? i would’ve staid outside the fucking door all night if that’s what it took for you to sleep after ehat happened, i just can’t be in this fucking room with you.”

you roll your eyes at how dramatic he is. as if staying in a room with you for one night would kill him. in his mind, however, it might. seeing you curled up in his bed, in his clothes, begging for him to stay, it’s all too much for him to handle.

“yeah sure you would. you wouldn’t go chasing after your brother the second he called that some girl was asking for you. this is all for show, you’re trying to make me seem like the one you can’t coexist with you,” you shout. “then everyone can blame me for this stupid fucking fight we’ve been having for an entire year. you can be the innocent one, that’s it isn’t it?”

george can’t believe how blind you are. how you’ve failed to notice that every time you get up in his face to yell at him he loses his breath. that you can’t see that teasing you is his only way to keep you coming back to pike. that he almost killed pucey because he likes you. he so painfully likes you.

“you’re an idiot you know that?” he yells, taking his hand off the doorknob. “seriously how dumb can you be? you really think i’m doing all of this for my image?”

“then answer my fucking question, weasley,” you spit at him, becoming angrier every minute that he won’t admit his own obsession with how everyone perceives him. “why. are. you. helping. me.”

every word comes out dripping with the venom of your rage. getting george to admit he’s a self centered, self serving asshole will give you all the evidence you need to show katie and angie that this feud is his fault, not yours. he begins to pace around the room, hands going to his hair as he looks deep in thought. your eyes never leave him, watching as he slowly unwinds in front of you. it’s happening, he’s going to admit it.

“you want to know why? you really want to know why i’m doing all this? why i dedicate my fucking saturday nights to fighting with you? that’s what you really want?”

“that’s what i asked isn’t it?”

“because i fucking like you, okay?” he shouts, making your heart stop. your jaw is practically on the floor, this is not the confession you were expecting. his face softens along with his tone, “i like you.”

he’s quiet, almost inaudible over the muffled bass of the music coming from downstairs. you face hasn’t changed, your brain is empty. your completely unable to move. you begin to shake your head after a minute, repeating the words ‘no’ and ‘you’re lying.’

“fuck this,” george finally speaks up, going back to reach for the door. “have a nice life, y/n, don’t bother coming back here after tonight.”

“george stop!” you yell which makes him stop in his tracks. his first name again. it makes his heart ache. he can’t get involved, he can’t fall into your trap. he continues to make his way to get as far from you as he possibly can. “george i mean it! stop running away from me.”

you’re now off the bed, following close behind him. you’re swimming in his sweatshirt, the material falling just below your knees. you don’t know why you suddenly have the urge to touch him, to be with him but it’s there. him threatening you to never come back made your chest tighten, not because you’ll be missing parties, but you’ll be missing him. memories of your screaming matches flood your brain, the absolute high you’re on as you’re staring up at him after shouting something offensive his way. the way you can never seem to catch your breath when he’s around you. the fact that you continue coming back, knowing he’s going to hurt your feelings in some way or another, because it means you’ll be with him. as toxic and backwards as it seems, you’ve never hated george. you were utterly obsessed with him. when you finally reach him, grabbing his hand to stop him fleeing, his whole body snaps to turn toward you. he looks wild.

“what could you possibly have to say to me?” he shouts, making you step back. his words are fueled by anger and hatred. when he sees you back away from him, he immediately regrets his tone. “come to gloat? to make fun of me? save it, y/n. i don’t want to hear it.”

you don’t say a word. on the crowded staircase of your drunk classmates you do the last thing you could have ever imagined doing with george weasley. you kiss him.

he’s completely taken aback, freezing in his place as soon as he feels your soft lips against his. one hand is wrapped around the back of his neck and the other is holding his cheek. eventually, reality hits the boy and he’s pulling you into him by your hips. you wince in pain from the tender bruise aching on your hip from pucey’s hands and george immediately pulls away to see if you’re alright.

“god, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize he hurt you so bad,” he starts to ramble on, keeping his hands off of you to keep from hurting you. “y/n, i’m — i just — i don’t know what to say.”

your hand is still on his face, your thumb stroking over his cheek bone. you can’t believe you had just kissed the boy you had sworn to hate for the rest of your life. pulling your hands away from your body you take a hold of his that are hovering inches away from your hips. you move they to lay against your waist and move yours to return to his face. you lean yourself back up toward him again, capturing his lips for the second time tonight. he didn’t hesitate this time, pulling you closer to him.

as soon as you pull away from each other, you’re soon walking back to his room hand in hand. he closes the door and flicks on the lights. being with him now feels astronomically different. the tension that once plagued any room you two shared has melted away.

“i didn’t want to pressure you into doing that,” he says softly, his palm resting on your cheek as the two of you sit only inches from each other on his bed. “especially after what pucey did to you, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

you stop him from spiraling any further into a pit of blame. “i feel safe with you georgie, i wouldn’t have stayed in here with you, kissed you, if i didn’t. you know i’d be the last to admit this, but you saved me, i owe you one.”

a small smile tugs on his lips. he can’t help but feel his heart hammering against his ribs like it’s going a thousand miles and hour. “consider the debt repaid,” he replies, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i don’t think i would’ve ever been able to face you after tonight if you hadn’t come running after me.”

your smile mirrors his, unable to contain the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. the two of you just stare at each other for a while, trying to imprint this moment in your memory forever.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks, his lips so close that you can feel his breath against yours. you nod against his forehead, silently begging to feel his warmth again.

kissing george is like nothing you’d ever felt before. you spent your entire life kissing boys that meant nothing to you, this feels like home. his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, memorising how you feel as if you’ll be stolen from him at any second. he’s thought of this exact moment for months, every time you fought, every time he spoke to you, he imagined what it would feel like to have you like this.

“still feels like a tundra in here,” you tell him after you pull away. he takes you by your good wrist and urges you to lay next to him, his arms wrapping tightly around your body wishing he would never have to let go.

“better?”

“better.” you reply, letting you hand rest against his chest, feeling his heart beat. “this is not how i imagined this night going.”

“neither,” he says, running his fingers up and down your side. “never thought i’d get to hold you like this.”

your cheeks heat up, not from your usual rage but from the sudden rush on nerves. you don’t know how to act around him when you’re not about to beat his face in. he gently pulls your face from where it’s hiding in his chest to admire you. he presses his lips softly against yours, then moves to either cheek, then to your forehead.

“what happens now?” you ask, suddenly hit with the realization that you can’t go on with the feud that’s been bubbling between the two of you for the past year. you’ll have to tell your friends that you don’t hate each other anymore, that you did the unthinkable and kissed george weasley.

“i don’t care,” he says simply. “we could continue fighting until my dying breath, i just don’t want to be without you. ever.”

“what a little sap-fest you’ve become,” you tease holding yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at the boy. “who knew the george weasley could be so sentimental.”

“oh shut up,” he nudges your shoulder, pulling his arms from around you to rest behind his head. “you’re the one who kissed me, y/n, you started this.”

you let out a giggle, resting your head against his chest. you talk for hours about everything and nothing at all. eventually you hear the music die from downstairs, your phone buzzing with texts from angie and katie worried sick about where you ran off to. you tell them you’re fine and you’ll explain tomorrow. it’s an unspoken assumption that after all these months of fighting, you’ll be sleeping in george’s bed, cuddled up to him like you have been for the last few hours. you turn from your phone to see him stripping his shirt from his body, going to pull his khakis from his body and your heart stops.

“george i-” you start, not being able to form a coherent sentence. “i’m sorry but i can’t do anything like that, not tonight, not after what happened.”

his face turns down in worry, swiftly pulling a pair of sweats from his drawer to cover his bare legs. “oh my god, no y/n that’s not where i thought this was going at all. i usually sleep without a shirt on but it that makes you uncomfortable i can put one on. i’m so sorry i wasn’t even thinking.”

you sigh in relief, of course he wasn’t going to ask you to do anything like that after what he saw. you can’t believe you assumed that of him.

“no, no i’m sorry i know you would never,” you reply, rubbing your face between your palms. “i’m just on edge.”

he sits next to you, already holding a pair of boxers for you to wear and places them in front of you. he runs his hands up your arms. “don’t apologize to me, you’re allowed to be on edge after that. i should’ve been more conscious of that. i can go to the bathroom while you change if you want, unless you want to stay in your jeans.”

you shake your head, pulling the denim off your legs and replacing them with george’s boxers. you’re safe with him, you remind yourself.

“thank you, george,” you say quietly. “for everything.”

“i’d do it again, a hundred times over if i had to,” he tells you, pulling you into his arms to hold you. “do you want to talk about it?”

you shake your head no and he nods. he lays the two of you back and pulls his blankets other you. your head lays against his bare chest, feeling the most secure you have in your life. george’s breath eventually steadies as he slips into a deep sleep. it’s the easiest he’s ever been able to fall asleep, feeling completely comfortable with you in his arms. you fall asleep soon after him, the arms of george weasley and the walls of pi kappa alpha lulling you into the sweetest dreams.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #frat boy george weasley #george weasley modern #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #harry potter imagine

[direnightshade]

Inferno

Warnings: Violence / Gun Violence, Post-Apocalyptic Themes, Angst, Unhappy Ending, Death / Major Character Death, Pandemic, Major Injury Word Count: 6,705

As always, you can find this over on AO3.

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

An arid landscape stretches as far as the eye can see. The familiar rows of brownstones and businesses of Brooklyn have long since vanished, replaced by a sun-baked desert. On the horizon, two figures stand facing one another, their muscles tensed and their focus solely on the other. Neither notices Sackler’s advance toward them.

The leather palm of the fingerless glove that the gunslinger wears creaks with the brief flex of fingers. You are itching to reach for the weapon holstered at your hip, eager to pull the warm steel from its confines to unleash the fury that you’ve been waiting to deliver for years now. But now, you know, is not the time. You will not be the first to make the move. No, this is dependent upon him , the man dressed in all black who stands opposite you with a look of smug determination.

The rough terrain crunches beneath Adam’s shoes and the dust that kicks up clings to them with each step forward that he takes, but as he draws nearer he notes how the sky grows increasingly darker. Large, grey clouds, swollen with an impending storm darken the sky and blot out the sun until a familiar rumble in the distance can be heard. It isn’t long until the first bolt of lightning strikes, effectively halting his steps. The electric current crackles and sizzles on its path downward and it’s then that Sackler realizes the strangest thing: the bolt does not disappear into the ground but rather into the fingertips of the man in black who now holds his hands upwards towards the sky.

Adam’s gaze shifts to where you stand. Your hand has since migrated to the gun at your hip and your thumb has lifted the leather snap of the holster, making for a quicker, easier draw of the weapon. It’s like slow motion, watching the scene unfold before him as your head swivels while your hand grips the gun and lifts in one fluid motion. With a squeeze of the trigger, a bullet rips through the air, the bang of the gun mirroring the echo of the thunder that accompanies a second bolt of lightning that careens down towards the parched Earth.

The moment that the bullet nears the man in black, it’s as if someone has flicked a switch and time has resumed its correct rate of movement once more as the man lowers his hands and faces his palms out towards you, both deflecting the bullet and sending a stream of electric current in your direction. Your eyes widen and just as the current reaches you...

The familiar blare of an alarm clock startles Sackler awake, immediately causing his eyelids to part to now take in the sight of the stark white ceiling above him. Gone is the dry landscape of some foreign desert; he has found his way back to the comfort of home. A large hand settles atop his chest and he takes a moment to puff out his cheeks and exhale a long breath whilst he feels the steady rhythm of his beating heart beneath his touch. This is not the first that he has dreamt of you and the man in black, nor does he suspect that it will be the last, but this time, he realizes, was different. This time the man in black had seemed to have the upper hand, something in which he’d never managed to in dreams prior.

Sackler had never believed much in astrology or dream meanings and the like, but the brevity and the sheer vividness of each one chipped away at his stance little by little until finally he’d found himself up and out of bed, pouring over page after page of varying dream meanings. From the cracked, barren wasteland of the desert to the storm that raged above, every meaning—if Sackler looked close enough— could feasibly be tied back to one problem or another in his life. But even with the research and the meanings loosely tied to reality, he still found the tiniest seed of doubt sprouting in his gut—a little flutter of worry that something just wasn’t quite right .

The scrape of a wooden chair across the linoleum floor sounds out into the small apartment when he rises up from his spot at the table, suppressing the unease for the time being. Sackler grabs his backpack and slings a strap over his shoulder before making the short stroll across the space to retrieve his bike. He’d forget about this for now, chalking it up to nothing more than a dream. Because that’s all it could possibly be...couldn’t it?

***

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Shoshana stands beside Adam, her hand gently swirling the wooden stirrer to mix her cream into the coffee that she holds.

The noncommittal hum that she receives in response isn’t to her liking, however. She huffs and nudges Adam’s ribs with her elbow, careful to not waste a single precious drop of the still piping hot liquid.

When Adam turns his head to look at her, she speaks up again. “You have to come! Marnie already said you’d told her you’d be there.”

“Yeaaaah, yeah. I’ll be there,” he replies, eyeing the board overhead that contains a multitude of hand-written items available to order. A brief moment of silence follows and then: “Wait, what time does it start?”

“Adam!”

A pinch is delivered to his side, eliciting a dramatic yelp in response to minimal pain. “Wh— ow! What?!”

“It’s six o’clock. And don’t be late,” Shoshana says, pausing momentarily to blow gingerly across the heated surface of her coffee before taking a long, thoughtful sip. “You know how Marnie gets.”

Sackler’s lips purse, thumbs hooking around the straps of his backpack while his eyes continue to peruse the board overhead. Another moment passes before he feels a nudge, this time another elbow, in his side. “Why bother, just get it black like you always do.”

He huffs out an amused breath and smiles down at Shoshana who mirrors the expression prior to excusing herself and pivoting on her heels to make her exit. He watches as she steps out of the door, the bell overhead ringing to signal her vacation of the premises; when the familiar blonde head of hair disappears among the crowd on the other side of the exterior wall’s windows, Adam’s gaze slides over to the clock that adorns the nearby wall. One thirty.

With a sigh, he turns back to face Ray who is already in the process of sliding him the usual: one black coffee in a plain off-white insulated cup complete with lid. Tossing down enough money to cover both the coffee and tip, Adam flashes Ray a grin and turns to follow Shoshana’s path back out onto the street.

***

The unassuming brick building that sits on Willoughby is lit by a pair of skyward pointing spotlights, illuminating the red brick against the dark backdrop of nightfall. Inside, the stark white of the walls and grey concrete floors reflect the blinding fluorescents overhead. Art is dotted sparsely along the walls, ranging from geometric abstraction to realism. Hushed tones fill the space as would-be patrons, guests, and painters alike all speak to one another among the art.

The soles of a pair of scuffed tan leather boots carry Adam further into the gallery while his gaze sweeps the area, roaming from one piece to another. The hands that are shoved deep into his one good pair of pants flex within the stiff material of his pockets as he stops in front of a painting by someone with a name he doesn’t recognize. Like nearly every other piece of art in this place that he’s laid eyes upon, this one is loud; bold, bright colors are splashed across the canvas in such a way that it almost appears angry, as if someone had been in the throes of being upset when making this. Though, what the fuck does he know about art?

Adam snorts to himself and pivots, stepping away from this piece and moving on, one after another until…

“Hooooly shiiiiiit,” he murmurs quietly to himself.

“It’s a masterpiece isn’t it,” says a familiar voice abruptly to his right. “I’d say it’s my best work yet.”

Sackler’s gaze slides over to the nameplate that sits beneath the painting, though he doesn’t have to. He knows precisely this belongs to by their voice alone.

“I call it The Duality of Life and Death,” says Booth with an air of smugness. “You see, the Gunslinger, they’re the embodiment of life; all light and warm tones, whereas Death here is in all black, being kept at bay by the Gunslinger’s trusty weapon.”

He cannot believe what he is seeing. In fact, he is so focused on the painting before him that Sackler fails to register any and all words that leave Booth’s mouth. It is as if this artwork has been pulled straight from his most recent dream. Everything, right down to the bolts of lightning, tinged purple by the storm, is an accurate portrayal of the vividness of the dream he’d lived through the night prior. Impossible. And yet…

“Shut up,” Sackler mumbles just loud enough for Booth to hear.

“Excuse me?” Booth balks at the audacity of Adam’s sudden intrusion upon his well-rehearsed pitch and not so modest boasting about his talents.

“How much?”

The conversation lapses, and for a moment, all that can be heard is the sound of the murmurs of the other patrons. Booth huffs out a laugh, unsure of whether or not this is a genuine inquiry.

“Too much for you.”

“How much,” Adam asks again, this time more forcefully. His head turns and, for the first time since Booth’s arrival, he directs his full attention to the man beside him.

Another brief silence follows. “Fifteen hundred.”

“I’ll give you seven,” Adam counters.

A scoff follows the attempted negotiation. “Absolutely not. Fifteen hundred and not a penny less.”

Sackler’s jaw twitches in irritation and he knows without a shadow of a doubt in his mind that Booth is taking him for a ride with the price, but he simply cannot walk away from this. Not when the coincidence is far too great for him to ignore.

“Fine. You have yourself a deal.”

***

Hours later, Adam finds himself back in his apartment fifteen hundred dollars lighter and one painting in hand. Having disrobed down to the grey pair of boxers he still dons, he settles his weight heavily onto the edge of his mattress, his eyes fixated on the acquired painting that now hangs on the wall directly opposite of where he sits.

It’s uncanny, he thinks to himself, unable to shake the familiarity of it. Just as in his dream, the Gunslinger— you —are looking at him, and from even this great distance, your stare seems to pierce right through him. He stares and he stares and he stares until finally,  sleep begins to wrap its tendrils around him, pulling him further down into a groggy state until he gives in and lies back against the mattress.

His eyes slowly slide closed, thoughts still on the painting, on his dream, on you . In the distance, an impending storm rumbles.

***

‘As many of you in the city have noticed, there has been a rather unusual weather pattern that’s settled over us, bringing with it an unsettling amount of rain and near hurricane level winds. Our storm tracker seems to indicate that this weather pattern is swirling in place, only delivering more debilitating rain that’s quickly turned to flash flooding in the area. The Hudson and East Rivers have both begun to breach their respective banks. But this isn’t the only unusual thing to come from the storm. There have also been strange electromagnetic pul—’

The nearby lamp flickers and then shuts off just as the television screen turns black, cutting off the meteorologist mid forecast. This has been, provided Sackler’s been keeping count accurately, the twelfth time this morning that the power has cut out. If this time is like the others, he can expect it to come back within the next five minutes.

He puffs his cheeks out prior to exhaling a deep breath, his eyes casting downward towards the phone in his hand—the very one he’d only just allowed himself to be talked into purchasing a mere three days ago. A large thumb taps the darkened glass screen to bring it to life. Twenty-eight percent, reads the small battery icon at the upper righthand corner. He sighs, opting not to waste more of the battery life by calling anyone. There’s no use, he knows. Instead, he tosses the device to the side, watching as it bounces against the worn cushions of the couch he sits on.

Outside, the storm rages on.

Rising up from his spot on the couch, the old wooden floorboards creaking beneath his weight, he crosses the small space of his living room to approach the window that gives him the perfect vantage point of the street below. Rain batters against the window, blurring his view, but below he spots a figure striding with purpose down the street.

Behind him, the microwave beeps and the light of his lamp clicks back on with the sudden return of electricity. Static sounds from the direction of the television and then:

‘In other parts of the world we’re seeing an emergence of a previously unknown virus. To date, there are no cases that we are aware of within the United States, but the CDC is urging anyone with the following symptoms to make a report—’

The story fades into the background as the figure draws closer and grows more visible even through the streaks of water that continue to distort the view from the glass in front of him. His eyes widen in recognition of the long, brown leather duster that hangs down nearly to the pavement. The holster isn’t visible beneath it, but the gun held firmly in hand is a dead giveaway.

“You,” he murmurs to himself in complete disbelief.

Without hesitation, and without allowing his mind to catch up with the actions he now takes, he pushes himself away from the window and makes a break for the apartment’s door, leaving behind the nearly dead phone on the couch.

***

ONE YEAR LATER

Plants of varying nature have long since begun to sprout through the cracks in sidewalks and pavement alike, their tendrils crawling up brick exteriors of buildings and brownstone homes. The hustle and bustle that the city is known for has quieted to a deafening degree; where once there were horns and shouts, now there is nothing more than the occasional whipping of the wind and, if one were so lucky, the rare sound of another survivor’s voice.

The illness that had swept across the globe crippled economies and decimated nations, including this very one. Businesses shuddered, families suffered, and in the end, no hope for a cure had been found.

Except for you, that is.

Ever since your arrival to the city where the man in black has taken up residence, it has been claimed by you that you are the only one who can put a stop to the man who’d brought a near end to civilization as Sackler knows it. Back in the realm from whence you have emerged, you have failed to stop him once, but this time, you vow, you will not falter in your mission.

The unmistakable metallic sound of a can being opened can be heard nearby. Sackler turns his head to look over at where you sit, your body curled over the pot that sits atop the lit tabletop burner. His face scrunches in distaste when he watches you dump the tin of beans unceremoniously into the empty pot in order to heat them up. It is the involuntary sound of displeasure that emanates from the back of his throat that captures your attention.

“What,” you ask as your head lifts to look in his direction.

He huffs out a breath and rolls his shoulders into a nonchalant shrug just as his attention shifts to the window of the apartment you find yourselves in currently. His head shakes once, twice, and then: “I don’t think I have it in me to eat another can of fuckin’ beans. At this point I think my blood’s made of it.”

The soft snort that emanates from where you stand pulls his attention back to you. He hadn’t heard you pick up the wooden spoon that you now hold, but he watches as you gently stir the warming beans, bringing them up to the desired temperature.

“It’s not like we have many options these days.”

Sackler notes how you refrain from looking in his direction, and instead direct your reply downward towards the soon to be meal. He grits his teeth together, jaw muscles ticking in visible agitation at the remark. It’s been one year, three hundred and sixty-five days, since the man in black’s arrival to Earth and only you, or so you’ve claimed, are the one that can stop him—only you can stop the sickness that he’s wrought on the planet and its people, and yet here you stand in his shitty apartment’s kitchen of all places, cooking some fucking beans.

It’s enough to drive him mad.

“We might not have options, but you sure as shit do,” he snaps, now having lost his patience. “That man, or whatever the fuck he is,” he says, pointing a finger in the direction of the window, “is out there. We know where he is, where he’s been for the last year and still you haven’t done shit about it!”

The wooden spoon once held in your hand now clatters against the side of the pot, the beans forgotten as Adam watches you twist off the flame and turn to face him with a sneer.

“I told you, it isn’t that simple. He’s dangerous , and he’s stronger than he’s ever been. And in case you haven’t noticed—”

“All the more reason to get it done, Kid! No use standing around here wasting time.”

“—I’m the last one of my kind left!”

Silence fills the space when your respective outbursts subside, and it isn’t until then that Sackler notices that you’ve taken steps to bring yourself closer to him. He wonders if you’ve noticed it too. Adam watches as your lips press together into a thin line, evidence of your displeasure with him and the situation the two of you find yourself in.

In a moment of seemingly perfectly choreographed movements, the two of you reach for one another, hands grasping at fabric, skin, anything and everything that you can reach. A groan of satisfaction tumbles from Sackler’s mouth the moment that he draws your body closer until you are firmly pressed against him, the sound greedily inhaled by you amidst a clashing of lips.

***

Hours later, when the light sheen of sweat covering your bodies has cooled, and the warmth of your skin is pressed against his, Adam turns his head and deposits a kiss to the crown of your own. In immediate response, you exhale a barely audible sigh.

There is a palpable energy that fills the space now; it is not the same explosive kind from earlier, the very one that led the two of you to the mattress you currently find yourselves on, no… This time it is different, uncomfortable. Sackler’s lips press together briefly, his jaw working in the familiar way you’ve come to notice in the short span of time that you’ve known him.

“I can practically hear the gears grinding in that head of yours, Kid,” he murmurs.

In reply you hum, though a moment of silence elapses before you respond. “We can’t,” you begin, the two words spoken with a quietness to rival your earlier sigh. Quickly, you lapse into more soundless thought.

Sackler’s arm tightens around your form, holding you closer to him; it is a wordless response that speaks volumes. Don’t , it says. Let us have this one moment of peace before the inevitable storm comes raging in and one of us finds ourselves swept away .

“Adam…” His name is a whisper, spoken so softly that if there were any other remaining souls in this building, not one would hear.

“Don’t,” he exclaims more forcefully than he’d intended. The words that follow are quieter, mournful, even. “Just don’t…” A shaky breath is inhaled and Sackler closes his eyes, an all too familiar ache beginning to make its home in the depths of his chest.

Beside him, bedsheets rustle as you lift yourself up out of the warmth and comfort of his embrace. Slowly, Adam’s eyelids part to look up only to find that you have propped yourself up by your elbow to peer down at him with a pained expression etched onto your features. A hand lifts and his eyes flutter closed once more when the sensation of your fingertips delicately tracing his cheek can be felt.

Such a tender touch only seems to feed the ache.

“We can’t be together.” The pain that he feels seems to be echoed in your own statement. It is a realization that drives the proverbial knife deeper and then twists. Your fingertips skim along his lips which now quiver with unshed sobs for a love that has died before it has even had a chance to bloom. “It’s too dangerous.”

A large hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you in place so that he may press kiss after kiss into your open palm in what feels like a desperate bid to prevent this moment from fading from existence. Adam shakes his head and slides your hand over to rest against his cheek, nuzzling into the touch before opening his eyes once more. This time when he looks up at you, he can see the tears that have gathered at your waterline, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks at any moment.

You exhale a trembling breath and when you close your eyes, the tears fall freely. Sackler lifts his hands, thumbs wicking away the moisture from your face as best he can. With a gentle hush, he guides you down to lay against him again, this time with your cheek pressed against his chest.

“You understand that, right,” you ask through the sobs that now begin to rack your body.

In response, Adam wraps an arm around your back, his other hand now cradling your head as you rest against him. “Yeah, Kid… I do,” he whispers in reply, his own tears now blurring his vision.

***

A rustling of wrappers can be heard, followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper. When Adam cracks one eye open, it’s to find that the light of an early dawn has begun to creep its way through the sheer curtain draped across his window, spilling in to illuminate your form as you work to close his backpack. He groans and lifts a hand to rub his palm against one eye, working the grogginess from it whilst he begins to sit upright.

“Whasssgoin’on,” he slurs, voice still thick with sleep.

He’s met by the thump of the backpack as it lands against his chest, and coughing out a breath, he wraps his arms around the material in immediate reaction.

“Get up,” you say, now turning your attention to your own gear, ensuring that you have everything that you need. “Get dressed and make sure you take that with you. We’re heading out.”

“Out?” The sleep that had laced his voice has dissipated entirely, now replaced with a brief bout of confusion. “Out where?”

Sliding your gun into its holster, you pivot simultaneously, the soles of your boots scuffing the old worn hardwood floor. “We have a stop to make. I need more ammunition and then we’re headed into Manhattan.”

It takes him a moment, but when the weight of your words hit him with full force, it’s impossible for you to miss the look of recognition that passes across his face. He scrambles from the bed, momentarily discarding the backpack in order to grab his clothes from the pile he’d discarded on the floor just a day earlier. At long last, after everything he has endured over the course of the last year, after everything that you have endured, as well as the two of you together, the day has finally arrived. And yet…

There is a small seed of hesitation that has sewn itself into the depths of his belly, sprouting up into worry.

***

Brooklyn remains as quiet as it has been for this past year; a gentle breeze cuts through a brownstone-lined street, rustling Sackler’s hair and causing the near floor-length duster that you wear to billow in its wake. The soles of your boots scuff along the pavement, kicking up pebbles that have torn up from the once heavily-traveled road. Beside you, Sackler adjusts the strap of the backpack that dangles precariously from his shoulder.

“You know you aren’t going to find any ammunition in any of the stores around here.” The words leave him matter-of-factly, as if he knows this to be true.

Your head swivels to look over at him and your eyes squint slightly as if to ask for further elaboration on the subject at hand. In automatic response, his hands lift, palms facing outward as if in defense though the two of you carry on walking alongside one another.

“Gun laws,” he says. “They’re super strict here.”

You huff out a grunt in reply and mutter a barely audible ‘that’s fine’ in return to which Adam quickly follows with: “T-that’s fine? What do you mean that’s fine? Hey! Hey , where are you going?!”

Stunned into momentary silence, Adam watches as you veer off course and make a beeline for one of the passing brownstones that sits vacant. “I don’t need a store,” you call out from over your shoulder.

With a swift, solid kick of your boot to the center of the door, you manage to dislodge the lock and allow yourself entry. The interior of the home is dark in spite of the sun that hangs high overhead just outside—a byproduct of city living. Upon further investigation, the home looks tidy, orderly, as if whomever used to live here locked up and left long before the sickness that swept the nation one year ago was able to settle in and take hold of the building’s occupants.

“Up here,” Adam says, the sudden boom of his voice cutting through your thoughts.

He is already halfway up the wooden staircase that leads to the second floor by the time you look over, taking the steps two at a time to reach the landing. It isn’t long until you are close behind, following him into one of the spacious bedrooms. Sackler’s backpack falls to the floor with a light thump just as he all but dives to the floor, his lean body stretching out as he peers beneath the bed. A hand reaches under, retrieving a small black case along with two boxes.

“Check these.” He rises up from his spot on the floor and immediately pivots to make his way into the large walk-in closet.

The sound of hangers sliding along metal rods can be heard as he pushes row after row of clothes aside in order to hunt down what he suspects will be a second weapon. By the time that he re-emerges, it is to find that you have scattered the boxes of ammunition from beneath the bed on top of the duvet. Beside the discarded ammo sits the black box, now opened to reveal Glock.

“This isn’t what I need,” you reply before turning your head to look over at where he stands at the threshold of the closet. “But that is.”

Just as you nod your head to the boxes of ammunition belonging to the very same revolver that sits on your hip, you stride across the expanse of the bedroom to approach him. Sackler hands the boxes to you without hesitation, watching as you squirrel the individual bullets away in the bandolier that sits snugly around your waist.

When the last of the ammunition has been tucked away, you lift your gaze to find Sackler staring back at you with an expression that you can’t quite pin down. There is an air of wistfulness about it and something else you cannot put your finger on.

“Ready,” you ask, lacing the question with an enthusiasm that is so manufactured that it feels bitter and foreign in your mouth.

Sackler nods but does not respond verbally. Instead, he turns and makes his way out of the bedroom first with you following close behind. Back by the bed, still lying on the floor, remains the backpack that Sackler had brought with him on the first leg of your journey.

***

Even from the Brooklyn Bridge, it is impossible to miss how the tallest residential building in the whole of the city looms above all else. But here, now, standing just beneath it on Park Avenue, makes all other vantage points pale in comparison. The front wall of the building that once housed luxury accommodations is all glass, pure and pristine—not a single pane disturbed or broken, unlike the remainder of the buildings that have gone neglected since the planet’s downfall.

“This is the one.”

“Yeeeeah.” Adam’s head tips back, eyes squinting to peer up at the sheer size of the building. “I figured.” When he rights his stance, head turning now to look over at you, he rolls a shoulder into a shrug. “Nothing says ‘the villain’s in here’ like the only untouched building in all of New York, and my guess, the world.”

You hum out an unintelligible reply—a grunt of sorts, something that requires no retort from Sackler, but receives one nonetheless.

“Hey,” he calls out, a hand snapping out to grasp your upper arm just as you begin to take steps towards the building’s front door. Only when you turn to face him again does he ease his grasp and then release it entirely. “Whatever happens in there—”

“Adam…”

“—whatever happens in there…” Sackler pauses, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows harshly, eyes searching your own. “That son of a bitch is dead, yeah?”

He watches as your head nods, albeit a bit more slowly than he’d like. When he says nothing, you nod again, this time with more conviction. “Yes.”

In turn, Sackler nods and utters a ‘ good ’ before following you through the front door. The lobby of the building is just as the outside stands: untouched and in good condition just as the day that it had been prior to the man in black’s arrival to the city. Despite the lack of people in the space—security or otherwise—it’s impossible to miss the hum of anticipation that shoots through the air like electricity. Every hair on the back of Adam’s neck seems to rise with the feeling, and his eyes dart around the room whilst he continues to follow your lead to the nearby staircase.

“Woah, hold on,” he whispers as the stairwell’s door clicks shut softly behind him, his hand once again reaching to grasp your arm to effectively stop your advance towards the stairs.

“What?!” The words that you hiss out in reply echo slightly against the concrete walls and floor alike.

A gentle tug pulls you closer, and though you don’t resist, it isn’t lost on Adam how your eyes narrow ever so slightly at the abrupt halt of your plans. “Something’s... off … It,” he starts, sighing and releasing his hold on you to run a hand through his hair in exasperation. “It feels wrong.”

When your brows crease in momentary confusion, he elaborates.

“You don’t think it’s weird that no one’s here? There’s no, I don’t fucking know, evil henchmen or some shit to stop us?”

A huff of air is expelled just as you turn your gaze upward as if to look to the floors above where you will undoubtedly find the man at long last. Adam watches as your lips press together momentarily before you look back to him and whisper once more. “Does it really matter? He’s here,” you insist, your own hand reaching to grasp his forearm. “You feel it. I know you do.”

When silence fills the space between you, Adam nods once in affirmation to your statement. He does feel him, it’s impossible not to. The crackle of electricity in the air has only grown more intense even only having moved a few hundred feet upon entry into the building.

“Come on,” you say, loosening yourself from his hold just as your hand slips from his arm simultaneously. “Let’s finish this.”

***

Thunder rumbles beyond the panes of glass that makeup the exterior walls by the time the two of you reach your destination and the final floor of the eighty-five story building. The door staircase’s door leads to a small hall that in turn leads to a solid black door complete with a tiny peep hole that the former occupants undoubtedly used to peer out at any visitors. Sackler surmises that now such a peep hole is useless and unused.

The feeling of unease that has settled into the depths of his stomach only seems to grow when you reach for the handle, turning it without resistance and finding that the door is unlocked. It’s a trap, he wants to call out, but that—he knows—would only serve to verbalize the obvious. You are just as aware as he, and yet…

The two of you push onward, stepping into the penthouse apartment that overlooks the entirety of Manhattan. Beyond the panes of glass that makeup the living area, Central Park stands empty, bathed in the purple light of the rapidly impending storm. To your left, movement captures both yours and Sackler’s attention and when your heads collectively turn to find the source, a sweeping sense of dread drapes over Adam like the heaviest of blankets.

“I see you’ve finally found me.” The soles of the boots the man in black wears, land heavily against the cool marble tile that covers the floor where he walks. “It only took you, oh,” he pauses briefly, pretending to check his watch, “a little over a year now. I thought your tracking skills were far superior than that, Gunslinger. Perhaps I give you too much credit.”

“You don’t give them enough,” Adam sneers, taking his place beside you.

The man’s gaze slides from you to Sackler and back again. There is a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth before his lips part, stretching wide across his face in a toothy grin. Laughter fills the space as his head is thrown back momentarily. Though the sound fades, the amused grin remains when the man’s attention is turned to you, effectively dismissing Sackler.

“Who is this? Is this the reason you’ve taken your sweet old time?” The man tuts in disapproval, his gaze flitting to where Adam stands, sizing him up with a single sweep down and then back up again. “You always did have a weak heart,” he mocks. “It’s a wonder you are the last one of your kind standing.”

The clouds that roll in now block the sun entirely, casting a dark shadow over the city that spills over into the living room and draping itself across the three of you. Outside, lightning strikes nearby as thunder rolls ominously overhead. The hand that rests at your side twitches in eager anticipation of the quick draw that will undoubtedly occur sooner rather than later.

“You’re wrong.”

The man’s gaze once again slides over to where Adam stands, hands balled into fists as if in preparation for the fight to come. The charged air seems to thicken to an uncomfortable degree and for a fleeting moment, Sackler wonders if this sullen energy is radiating from the man himself.

Another strike of lightning illuminates the space, followed rapidly by another that seems to pass through the nearby floor to ceiling length windowpane. With a wave of an outstretched hand, the man sends the bolt in your direction, seeking to put an end to this before it can even begin. Your hand lifts to retrieve the gun from your holster, but quick of a draw as you are, not even you are quick enough for the event that unfolds before your very eyes.

Whilst the bolt comes careening towards you, a large body steps in front at the last possible moment, absorbing the blow.

“No!” You cry out in disbelief, pulling the gun free and firing off three shots in rapid succession, two of which hit their intended target.

As the man in black clutches at his torso, stumbling back behind a nearby piece of furniture for cover, you collapse down onto your knees beside a wounded Sackler.

“No, no, no, no, no, Adam.” The gun in your hand clatters to the floor heavily whilst your hands now roam over his body frantically. You know that there is nothing you can do, the blow has been dealt and the damage has been done. No amount of wishing can save him now.

Sackler chokes, splutters, and wheezes as he struggles to catch what little breath he can. “Kid,” he manages to gasp through labored breaths.

An anguished sob sounds from the back of your throat upon hearing him. Tears begin to fill your vision, spilling over onto your cheeks as your head tips forward to rest your forehead against his shirt near the blackened edges where the lightning bolt made contact with his chest.

“Kid,” he rasps again.

A large hand settles at the back of your head when you lift it just enough to peer down at him. He’s gone impossibly pale, and the realization makes your heart shatter into the smallest pieces imaginable. He is, you know, on the verge of death.

“I—”

“No, Adam. Don’t,” you hush softly, bringing your own hand to his hair, brushing it back from his clammy forehead. “Just rest, you’re going to be okay.” The words taste bitter in your mouth, like ash after a fire has decimated everything in its wake.

There is a slight shake of his head, and the hand at the back of your own presses just enough pressure for you to follow his lead, allowing him to draw you closer. Weakly, he lifts his head up from the ground to meet you on your descent. The tears come effortlessly now when your lips meet, and the hands that once roamed his form now hold his face as you kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

“Kid, I—” A series of coughs wrack his body as you help to lower his head back down to the ground. “I. Kid.” Sackler’s eyes roll as he inhales an arduous breath. “I lov—”

The breath leaves his body in a rush, chest stilling and body falling limp.

The golden rays of the setting sun part through the black clouds and cast themselves upon the scene as if to highlight the tragedy that’s just unfolded. But now is not the time for mourning; there will be a time and a place for this later, though every fiber of your being screams for you to stay with him now.

Rapidly you blink, seeking to dispel the tears from your eyes and rid yourself of your blurred vision. Slowly, you push yourself up and onto your feet, grabbing your gun as you go, your gaze still focused on the now lifeless body that lies in front of you. This mission, the one you’d been on solely for yourself and the realm from whence you have traveled from, is now a quest for the man you’d come to love so completely. For him you will do this. For him you will see to it that the man in black will be no more, that order will be restored to Adam’s world once more and that things will revert to the way they once were.

This will be his legacy.

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

Tagging my fellow Sackler lovers!

@livelongdolan @daydreamsofren @crimsoncounties @caillea @candycanes19 @gurl-ly @duty-isnt-always-honour @exit-goat @little-laamb @themuseic @kylosbitch @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @desiraypark @mariesackler @millenialcatlady @mazeltovcocktail555 @historyandfandoms50 @leatherboundbirate @fathersonandhouseofgucci @xxcatrenxx @alpha-lobito @cornmousequeen @tashastrange89 @10blurredsmoke10

If you'd like to be tagged on works going forward, give me a shout!

#Adam Sackler #Sackler #Adam Sackler x Reader #Sackler x Reader #Gunslinger!Reader #Adam Sackler x Gunslinger!Reader #Sackler x Gunslinger!Reader #Dark Tower AU #cw: violence #cw: gun violence #cw: angst #cw: unhappy ending #cw: pandemic #cw: major injury #cw: death #cw: character death #adcu fic exchange

[darlingandmreames]

I rewatched The Ritual the other night for the first time in a while and am officially Back On My Bullshit, which means lots of thoughts and opinions that I am now going to make everyone else's problem. So without further ado, here are my thoughts on The Ritual's themes, character dynamics, and how the movie (in my opinion) improved upon the book

(spoilers for both the book and the movie)

Themes

So what is The Ritual actually about? I mean, obviously it's about a freaky forest monster that kills people and grants one of those kinds of immortality where you really gotta read the fine print, but underneath all that what is it actually about?

The answer depends a bit on both whether you're talking about the book or the movie, and how detailed you're being about it. Both the book and the movie share the very broad theme of "moving on", but what the characters are "moving on" from is different in each. I'd argue that the book primarily deals with moving on from past chapters in your life- cherishing the good memories, acknowledging and accepting the failures, and moving forward without becoming stuck on either.

The movie, on the other hand, is very explicitly about trauma, pain, and grief, and the process of confronting and moving on (or NOT moving on) from those experiences. This is achieved by the introduction of Rob, a character who didn't exist in the book. His actual appearance in the movie is brief, but his death is the driving force behind the entire movie. It's sudden, violent, and senseless, and it provides a very distinct and viscerally present context for the character interactions moving forward (more on that later). Rob's death faces the characters with a complex, heartbreaking, and traumatic loss and allows the movie to explore what it means to confront and move on from something like that, as well as the consequences of NOT doing so, by making that pain and grief into a very real (and beautifully designed) monster.

And that's where the movie's second major change comes in: the portrayal of the cult. I.... admittedly didn't really care for the cult portion of the book all that much honestly. It wasn't bad and some of my favourite lines were actually from that part of the book, but it felt almost jarringly different from the first part of the book to me. I felt like the heavy metal teen cultists were very much at odds with the sense of sinister supernaturality the first part of the book had spent building.

I loved the cult in the movie though. These are people who worship the personified (monstrified?) pain and grief that stalks the forest. They were chosen to survive specifically because of their own personal pain ("why me?" "Your pain is great") and by worshipping the monster they're kept in the forest and granted an immortality that saves them from death but not decay. It's a beautiful look at the consequences of being unable/unwilling to move on from pain/loss/grief and instead being consumed by it. The cultists are defined by their pain to the point that it eventually warps them into something almost unrecognizable. By worshipping Moder they are literally unable to move on, both physically (they're stuck in the forest) and spiritually (they can't die). Whereas the cult in the book felt jarringly different in tone from the story leading up to it, the cult in the movie tied into the theme beautifully and provided Luke with a look at his future if he allows his own pain to consume him.

Which brings us to....

Characters

A stories themes are often best portrayed through it's characters, and in this case that mostly means Luke.

Luke in the book is....well, to be honest, he isn't really that sympathetic or even that likeable when we first meet him or really for a large chunk of the story, at least not in my opinion. He's a 36 year old man-child who's clearly still chasing the glory of his college days and who's life up until now has mostly been characterized by failures, flakiness, and not taking responsibility for any of it. And on top of that, he's angry. The kind of angry that's violent, easily provoked, and generally unwarranted. All of the characters are facing failures at the end of this chapter of their lives to some degree (such as Phil being separated from his wife), but Luke is very clearly the least well adjusted- and least sympathetic- of them. His character arc revolves around him learning to move on from this previous chapter in his life, accepting the good and the bad and finally being willing to move forward with determination. In the beginning of the book Luke is characterized by indifference and petulant anger that masks fear and doubt, but he ends the book with a desire to move forward and determination to survive.

The inclusion of Rob and his subsequent death COMPLETELY changes Luke's character though and, in my opinion, makes him FAR more compelling and sympathetic. We still get similar notes to where he starts out as we did in the book; whereas Rob, Dom, Hutch, and Phil have all clearly settled down and moved on from their uni days, Luke obviously hasn't. This is made clear in his suggestions for the lad's holiday, his wanting to get a bottle of liquor after they leave the bar, and his conversation with Rob when they're in the liquor store. Movie!Luke really isn't all that different from book!Luke in the first scene or two.

Rob's brutal murder profoundly changes Luke's character though. He's left dealing with the grief and loss left in the wake of Rob's death, as well as the guilt associated with not having been able to stop it. By taking a character that may not otherwise be particularly sympathetic or likeable and having the audience watch him experience a deeply horrifying and traumatic loss, the movie makes Luke into an extremely compelling character and set him for a far more emotionally engaging character arc as he struggles to cope with both his grief and his guilt.

As I mentioned above, the cult in the movie provides Luke with a glimpse of the consequences of allowing his pain and grief to consume him. Now, the cult in the book sort of does the same thing- the indifferent anger and violence of the cultists mirrors Luke's own anger covering his fear and doubt and shows what could happen if he embraced that part of him. But the cult in the movie, in my opinion, works far better in this role because they feel more thematically and tonally in line with the rest of the movie and because Luke is a more sympathetic character. His decision to accept or reject that path carries more weight because we care about him. Moreover, accepting the same path as the cultist would provide him with a community that understands his pain, something he very much did not have with his friends; we understand that accepting the cult is a bad decision, but we also understand why Luke would be tempted to do so. Simply put, we feel for him and that makes the presentation of this choice much more emotionally impactful.

Interestingly, Luke's character arc in both the book and the movie end with him developing the desire and determination to survive. It comes from two very different places though. In the book, it revolves around Luke's willingness to finally close out the previous chapter of his life- highs and lows and all- and move forward into the future despite the fear and uncertainty doing so may provoke.

In the movie, though, this decision comes within the context of Luke's survivor's guilt. He feels guilty over Rob's death because he wasn't able to intervene and this guilt is reinforced by the other characters, most notably Dom and, later, Hutch. His decision to reject Moder, to fight back and refuse to kneel, represents not only his decision to move on from his grief and trauma but also the acknowledgement that despite what happened he still has worth and his life is still worth living. It also resolves his struggle with his inability to help (which plays a large role in his guilt), something that comes into play in all of the deaths in the movie even beyond Rob's. In Hutch's death Luke tried to find him but was unable to find him until it was far too late. In Phil's death he's initially paralyzed before running away, both in fear, in much the same way he did in Rob's death. In Dom's death he was able to take the necessary steps to help Dom (dislocating his thumb to get out of the restraints) but was ultimately too late and was forced to watch Dom die anyways. By recognizing that he still has worth and that is life is worth living, Luke is able to act in spite of his fear and make the decision not to allow his grief, pain, and trauma to consume him.

No discussion of Luke as a character is completely without also discussing how he interacts with the other characters and hoooo BOY did the movie really ratchet those interactions up a notch or ten. The interactions in the book were well written but they admittedly felt a little one note at times (though this is also probably somewhat due to me viewing book!Luke as not particularly likeable or sympathetic). By including Rob's death the movie adds a layer of complexity to the character interactions that I felt really wasn't there in the book and we get to see the interpersonal effects of traumatic loss. Luke may have been the only one to witness Rob's death but they're all grieving him, and we get to see how that (and how Luke's friends' perception of his role in Rob's death) impacts and strains their relationships. As I mentioned earlier, we see very clearly that Luke doesn't have any real support or understanding from his friends; Dom does little to hide the fact that he views Luke as directly responsible for what happened and while Hutch does initially attempt to provide support, it comes off as superficial and he later admits he isn't sure whether he blames Luke. Luke is very clearly struggling with what happened but can't turn to the people he would normally rely on for support, and his interactions with his friends often alienate him and further reinforce the guilt and blame he's grappling with rather than provide any source of comfort. This, again, makes the temptation to submit to Moder and join the cult, to give into his pain and grief and loss and let it consume him, that much more compelling and his choice to reject it that much more meaningful.

Overall, the movie's decision to add in Rob and his subsequent death and to change how the cult was portrayed was, in my opinion, a truly excellent one and helped move the movie from a story I would've enjoyed but shrugged off into legitimately one of my favourite movies of all time. It allowed for a more thematically and tonally consistent story and made both Luke and his character arc more sympathetic, compelling, and emotionally impactful. When it comes to adaptations I generally tend to enjoy the book more than the movie, but this is one of the few exceptions where I truly believe the movie significantly improved upon the book

#listen I know I'm just screaming into the void on this #but I have SO MANY thoughts and feelings about this movie #I love it so mcuh #the ritual #the ritual 2017 #the ritual movie

[itsclydebitches]

Vine’s death/sacrifice really kinda messes with the “themes” of this volume, the idea of not sacrificing anyone to save others. I guess self-sacrifice is considered ok because of Hazel and Penny, but I just think about their conversation with JRY, with their talk of doing everything possible to save a beloved teammate.

Yeah, self-sacrifices are a whole different ballgame in RWBY. It’s framed as heroic to do everything possible to save an individual, or for an individual to sacrifice themselves for everyone else. However, it’s not framed as heroic for others to sacrifice an individual to save the whole. So the idea of saving Oscar at any cost is presented as the unambiguously good thing to do... with the show largely ignoring the reverse question of, “So it’s okay to sacrifice hundreds or thousands of people--and the safety of an entire city housing the majority of the city below--for one?” 

There are admittedly differences in terms of the presumed fatality of each situation. Meaning, Hazel, Vine, and Penny are framed as having to die or lots more people will definitely die: Salem will get JRYOE, the Ace Ops + Qrow will perish, Cinder will get the power and do horrific things with it (even if this supposed inevitability isn’t executed well. Example: there apparently just isn’t time to heal Penny). In contrast, Oscar is presented as a case where they can still save him and keep others alive. Obviously it all turned out the best it could--because these are the heroes and the plot ensures things go well--but the show doesn’t grapple with that risk, despite RWBY naming an episode after it. We don’t engage with the fact that JYR were 100% willing to let an entire city perish to save their teammate. It’s a heartwarming characterization from one perspective, absolutely, but the flipside is that they’re licensed huntsmen in a position of authority and their willingness to abandon the vast majority of a nation for one guy is... arguably horrifying. These issue is only exacerbated by this decision not being a one-off thing. Ruby’s desire for a perfect solution led her to trapping most of the Atlas/Mantle citizens there and then prioritizing two other teammates--Nora and Penny--over helping the people, despite her inability to do anything to assist those teammates. She isn’t defending them from anything (prior to the Hound’s arrival), doesn’t have the skills to heal them, they’re not even conscious to ask her to stay with them... she just decided that sitting at her friends’ bedside, doing nothing, was more important than helping the people who were currently in life threatening danger. Oscar was in life threatening danger too, but JYR were still in the same position of being official protectors of the people who said, “No. Our friend is more important than the whole nation. We’ll let it burn for the chance to save him.” 

Since I just started Voyager (side note: I WOULD DIE FOR JANEWAY) I’m reminded of how often Star Trek as a franchise emphasizes these moral questions. Not just in the classic “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” but also when it comes to any position of authority. Captains and Commanders have to grapple with whether they’re able to send an individual--likely a friend--into a deadly situation to help the rest of the ship, like ordering your Chief Engineer into dangerous territory to fix something. They also have to grapple with whether they’re able to leave people behind for the sake of the ship and how much danger it’s ethical to put the whole crew in to continue trying to save the few (something that takes center stage in numerous episodes). Star Trek, though far from perfect as a franchise, largely achieves a great balance between having characters be hopeful, pushing the odds, upholding the importance of every life... but also recognizing that, as the authority here, they cannot put the life of one individual over the entirety of the ship (not unless the entire ship agrees to take that risk. Hence, The Search for Spock). They cannot prioritize their personal desires and needs over that of their crew... but that’s precisely where the RWBY group has ended up. Frankly, this wouldn’t be as much of a problem if the show had just made them into rogue entities, rather than licensed huntsmen who are very much using their authority to gain power over the people they’re not prioritizing (Ruby starts her video by telling the world she’s a huntress, Jaune uses his credentials to get people to follow him). It’s the authority that’s the problem. If a civilian that happens to have a talent for fighting decides to defend their friends instead of helping the people, fine. We may not personally agree with that decision, but it’s theirs to make. The problem is our heroes are huntsmen. They have a duty and they are continually ignoring that duty despite reaping the benefits of their position. Someone with the authority of a huntsmen can sacrifice themselves to save the people, or to save a friend. They cannot, however, willingly sacrifice the people for themselves, or a friend. And yes “sacrifice” includes not just active harm (keeping Atlas trapped), but also increasing the risk of harm (not wanting the whale to be bombed) and passiveness (sitting in a mansion) when it’s their responsibility to protect others. 

What was it Weiss said at Mountain Glenn? 

“It's a job. We all had this romanticized vision of being a Huntress in our heads! But at the end of the day, it's a job to protect the people and whatever we want, will have to come second.”

The characters have completely forgotten that... and the writers have too. Now, “whatever we want” is framed as the heroic thing to do. Ruby wants a miracle despite all evidence to the contrary, so all the people they’ve successful evacuated have to remain in danger until she gets one. The JRY group want their teammate back, so the army will just have to keep dying until they get him. (The fact that they eventually agree to the bomb going off whether they’re still in there or not--something I quite like--doesn’t erase that they initially wanted the Ace Ops to not drop the bomb at all.) Ruby doesn’t want to have to choose between Mantle and Atlas, so both cities just have to lose out on three of the very few people who exist to protect them while they’re torn apart by monsters. “Both houses deserve to be saved!” says the firefighter, standing there and refusing to help either. Inevitably, both burn down. 

The willingness to leave behind an individual for the whole--something which, I should point out, exists in the “Are you willing to leave the few in Mantle for all of Atlas + a large number of refugees?” question-- isn’t just the sacrifice of the individual, it’s also a sacrifice of the authority. Are you willing to live with the guilt of this decision? Are you willing to sit with that choice and accept any consequences that might come your way, including others’ hatred of you for failing to achieve perfection? Ironwood was. He knew he was hurting Mantle, knew no one had been able to come up with a perfect solution, and decided that helping the whole world was worth it. Others despising him was worth getting communications back up and (he thought) defeating Salem. That’s a sacrifice, one that makes Winter’s “You sacrificed nothing!” line sound particularly ridiculous. What has the group sacrificed lately? I don’t mean what they’ve lost--what’s been taken from them--but what they’ve willingly given up to help others. I can’t think of much, especially not in Volume 8. Ruby never even made the choice at all, let alone accepted the drawbacks of it. 

RWBY wants to be a complex, morally gray show, but you cannot write that and have heroes who insist on that fairy tale ending. Something has to give and, inevitably, RWBY keeps supplying that ending instead of forcing the characters to grow. If they want a dark, imperfect world then they need protagonists like Ironwood. No, not crazy, murderous, keep-him-away-from-me Ironwood, but the Ironwood of early Volume 7 who was willing to acknowledge that sometimes perfection is impossible. Sometimes it’s your duty to just get the best outcome possible, not the best you’d hoped for. Sometimes you have to make incredibly hard decisions and shoulder the weight of that because you accepted this responsibility when you took on the role of leader. The group hasn’t accepted a thing and Ruby absolutely didn’t accept the responsibility of seizing power and presenting herself as the world’s leader. Instead, they’ve reverted to their characterizations at the beginning of Mountain Glenn. What do you mean I can’t make the world perfect by wishing it was so? Fine, if I can’t have perfection than I won’t accept anything at all. 

#rwby #mymetas #flawartist

[127-mile]

Damsel in distress.

Pairing: Hero!Kun x fem.reader.

Genre: Hero/villain!au, feelings realization / Angst, fluff, mature content.

Warnings: Smut (thigh riding, handjob), violence, blood, injuries, revenge seeking, mention of nightmares, of shadows, vulgar language (reader curses a lot).

Plot: More commonly referred to as Kun by his friends, and Pyro by the citizens, he is a hero. He is adored by the citizens, and it is rare to find someone who does not know his name, or the way he handles fire. You know him too, and for many reasons.

One day, he found you, what he thought was a damsel in distress. You were, yes, but only to get to him.

Word count: +15.9k.

A/N: This is part of the Twisted Truths collab hosted by @yangyanghater​. 

+ I really hope this fits the theme of the collab, if not, well, I’ll write something else.

Your breathing is rapid, and choppy.

You know that if you do not calm down within a minute, you will pass out right in the middle of the deserted and dark alley where you are. It was a bad idea to go down an alley, you know, but being in a street surrounded by houses would have turned out to be just as pointless. The crime rate is so high that locals turn off their lights and pretend they do not exist when they hear someone calling for help. Sometimes they'll call a hero agency, but that's very rare. They prefer to remain anonymous, and observe from behind their windows.

You do not blame them, you would certainly do the same if you were in their situation. But at the moment, it doesn't really help. When you feel tears rolling down your cheeks, you wipe them with the palms of your hand, which is also a bad idea, because the blood from your hands spreads more on your skin, and the metallic smell makes you gag hard enough for some bile to go up in your throat. "Help, please help me." you sob weakly, ready to give up your race to drop onto the asphalt to wait for your inevitable death.

A sudden rush of adrenaline makes your legs move before you can stop them, and when your vision clears a little, you notice that you have stepped out of the alley. The streetlights help you see your surroundings, and even though you move further and further away from your apartment, you are a little safer. No villain would dare to attack you right in the middle of the busiest street in town, right?

Your blood runs cold when you hear the growl of the Beast chasing you, and ignoring the burn in your legs and lungs, you start to run again. You do not know where you are going, and why you do not look for a place to hide instead, but you run. You run until you come in direct contact with someone. Your chest hits hard against the chest of a man who has little time to catch your hand before you fall on your butt.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" the man says, and you shake your head. You are not in pain, but for a moment, you feel like you are losing all sense of direction, and the little bit of sanity you have left. "Are you okay? You are bleeding!" even though your eyes are closed, you can feel the man crouch down in front of you, and he takes your arm where what you think is a cut continues to bleed. He grimaces, and cups your face to force you to look at him. "Answer me."

When you open your eyes, you are surprised to find large dark eyes starting at you. Even if he wears his civilian clothes, it would be hard not to recognize Pyro, the hero. You grab his t-shirt, oblivious to the traces of blood you leave on the white fabric. "Help me, I'm begging you, he is chasing me." the pro-hero frowns, and sits up looking around. "Who is?" you shrug, and when he lowers his head, you see flames dancing in his eyes.

"I'll take care of it, but taking care of the victims is a priority." he mumbles more to himself than to you. "Can you stand up?" he asks, and when you shake your head, he is pulling his cell phone out of the pocket of his pants. He types a message, probably to notify another hero from his agency that he needs backups, and when he is done, he turns to you. "I'll call an ambulance."

That simple sentence seems to be what your body needed to give up the fight. Your limbs go numb, and the darkness embraces you tenderly. You feel your head banging against the asphalt, and the pain radiating through your neck and jaw, but that's it, after that it's a mix of noises, movements and then nothing. Complete darkness.

When you regain consciousness, you know that you are no longer on the streets, and for a minute, you wonder if this was not just another nightmare. "Don't move." a voice commands you when you try to turn, and that's when you feel it. The pain in your body, a sharp but fleeting pain. You open your eyes, and you close them when you are attacked by the rays of the sun. "Oh shit, sorry." the voice mumbles.

The person in the room with you is busy closing the curtains, and you are grateful for that. You flutter your eyelids, and when you finally see where you are, you are hardly surprised to see a white room, to hear the steady beep of your heartbeat on the monitor, and to smell the disinfectant smell that is often the one in hospitals. An IV prevents you from moving your right arm the way you want, but it's for your own good, you think.

"How are you feeling?" the voice asks you, and when you finally look at the person, you frown when you see him. Pyro. Why is he here? Yes, he was with you on the street when you passed out, but he should not be by your bedside, the police should be. "I feel like I've been run over by a dozens of cars." you answer with difficulty, your throat dry. "Yeah, I suspected as much. The doctors said your body was really at its limit when we brought you here last night."

With a nod of his head, he points to your other arm, and you see the bandage covering part of it. "They gave you 9 stitches, and they injected you with an antidote to combat the poison the villain injected you when he bit you." poison? It is a lot for your poor head which is ready to explode at any moment. You are also very tired, but you have questions for the hero. "Pyro? Why are you still here?" you ask in a weak voice, and he sits down on a chair that has been brought closer to the edge of the bed.

"You can call me Kun, I'm not here as a hero." he explains, and you nod. "Unfortunately neither I nor my colleagues were able to track down the villain who attacked you last night, so we are taking turns to make sure he does not come back here to finish what he started." yeah, that makes sense, even though you do not know what the villain would like to end, when you do not know why he started chasing you in the first place.

"The doctors said that apart from the tiredness of your body caused by the poison, and the injury to your arm, you have nothing worth staying in the hospital for a few more days. So you will be allowed to go out tonight, do you have relatives with whom you could stay until the situation calms down?" he asks, and you bites your lower lip. This is painful. "No, I am alone here." your answer does not seem to please the hero who crosses his arms against his chest. "We can have heroes stand guard oustide your house."

"I live in an apartment complex with a majority of seniors. Seeing heroes outside my door 24/7 might worry them." Kun sighs, letting his head drop back, and you admire the column of his throat and the way his adam's apple bob as he swallows. It's definitely not the best time to think about it, but Pyro is quite a handsome hero. "No need to worry about me, I'm sure the villain will not come back. I was just a victim who got in the wrong place, at the wrong time."

Kun seems to be thinking, and he stands up to take a piece of paper and a pencil. On it, he writes two phone numbers that he gives you. "Here you have my agency number, and here you have my personal number. If you ever have the suspicion that you are being followed, or hearing noises behind your door, at any time of the day or night, you can call me. I'll send a few of my heroes to check on you every now and then without worrying anyone."

It's definitely not a good idea, Kun knows, but he can't force you to live with heroes outside your door. And the kids at the Hero Academy would get even more attention, even though they are all extremely gifted for their age. "I'll do it, thank you Py-Kun." he nods, and he looks at the bedroom door before getting up from the chair again. "The police is here to take your statement. I'll be outside if you need anything."

Like Kun had said, the doctors let you out after dark. And they even called a cab so you would not have to walk back to your apartment, which is really sweet of them, you think as you are looking at the city behind the car window. The hero had to leave while you were talking to the police, a villain problem in the streets, at least that's what you understood as he was apologizing loudly for having to leave so early.

When the car pulls up in front of your apartment complex, you give the driver some money before getting off. Nothing is different from last night, although you may had expected to find a horde of villains waiting to kill you. And going up the stairs to the door of your apartment is calm, you meet an elderly person who asks you where you were last night, and that's about it. Nothing life threatening.

You close the door behind you, and you press your back against it, sighing. You slid down until you are sitting on the floor with your eyes closed. You feel like your skull is going to split open if you do not stop moving or even breathing. It is attrocious. "Come on, let's calm down." you whisper, pressing the palm of your hands to your eyes. "Everything is fine. We are fine."

After several minutes, you get up.

In the bag the nurse gave you before leaving, you take out your cellphone. The screen is cracked, but it still works, giving you the opportunity to see the various messages and missed calls from a couple of your friends. You do not read them, only the last one.

From Ten: Where are you? Did it work?

You sink onto your couch, trying to ignore the black dots playing in front of your eyes, and your headache. You could call Ten to make it easier, but you do not know if you can bear to hear him yell at you. Not tonight. Tomorrow maybe.

To Ten: I just got back from the hospital. I'm at my apartment now.

Ten's response is immediate.

From Ten: Fuck. From Ten: Do you want me to come? To Ten: Please, don't. I'm tired, and I have a terrible headache, I just want to sleep it off. Tomorrow. From Ten: Okay, I'm here if you need anything.

You turn off your phone, it will be easier for you, and you grab a blanket to cover yourself up, face included. And in less time than you would have thought, you fall asleep. Sadly, like every night, you wake up in the middle of the night feeling like you are being suffocated by someone or something. You remove the blanket, your breathing heavy and rapid, and you look around. Nobody is here. Like always.

You mumble a few insults at no one in particular, and you sit up. Beads of sweat slide down your face, and you can feel them down your spine. At least your headache is gone, and you do not know if it's because your body is still asleep, but you do not feel like all of your limbs are numb and sore anymore. That's a good thing, you hope.

You prick up your ears when you hear whispers behind the door, and you stand up silently. Of course, since you and luck are not friends, your floor creaks with every step you take towards the door. But luckily it's not loud enough to be heard by anyone in the hallway. You glance through the peep-hole, and sigh in relief when you see two people. According to the clothes they are wearing, they are heroes. You remember seeing them on TV when Pyro opened his own agency.

You know they are there to check that your door is still intact, and that no one is hiding in the common places, but you open the door anyway, startling the two heroes who turn to you. At least, they have the decency to look ashamed having woken you ip at 3 in the morning. "We didn't mean to wake you up." one of them whisper, and you nod. "Don't worry, it's okay." you place your hand against your mouth to hide a long yawn that makes the second hero smile. "Nothing to report?" he asks, and you shrug. "Nothing at all. But like I told Pyro, nothing will happen to me, don't waste your time here."

The man, with his long blond hair and his teasing smile, shrugs his shoulders. "It's our job miss, maybe you can thank us later with a drink, or two." you roll your eyes, and you return inside the apartment, closing the door in front of the two heroes. The first hero punches the other, who whines loudly, earning him a second punch. "Johnny, you are such an idiot. We are here to work, not flirt with the person we are supposed to be protecting!" he mumbles, and Johnny, as you learnt, chuckles softly. "I didn't say she had to do it right now, you really need to chill Yuta."

Unsurprinsingly, you spend the next day in your bed, sleeping. Your headache did not come back, and the wound on your arm stopped stinging, and you had no nightmares during the 20 hours you spent sleeping. Maybe you could get attacked by a villain more often, it would allow you to get through a full night without being bothered by the shadows.

When you come out of the bathroom after a long, hot and well-deserved shower, you find your phone on the coffee table, and when you turn it on, you see Ten and Doyoung bombarding you with messages. You sit on a chair around the dining table, and dials Ten's number for a video call, which he answers almost immediately. He is not alone, Doyoung is sitting next to him on a dirty and dusty old leather sofa.

"Oh my god, we thought you died overnight." Ten says in a calm manner which contrasts with the anger evident in Doyoung's eyes. "What happened to you?" he asks with clenched teeth. "That fucking villain turned out to be more dangerous that I thought. I thought we said no injury, or at least nothing serious?" you mumble, and the boys frown. "What are you talking about?"

You show your arm still wrapped in a bandage in front of the camera. "That motherfucker decided to bite me, and to inject his fucking poison in me! The doctors had to inject me with some antidote so I wouldn't fucking die." you spit, and Ten and Doyoung look at each other, worried. "It was not in the plan." you let your shoulders drop before crossing your arms over your chest. "No shit Sherlock, I was there when we put together this stupid plan."

"Do you want us to come?" Doyoung asks after calming down, and you shake your head. "No, Pyro has asked several heroes to come and check that nothing is happening to me." Ten grimaces, he knows that if he steps outside, he will be immediately recognized by the heroes, and not just those belonging to Pyro's agency. "I will come, don't take the risk to approach my apartment." the two boys nod, and you end the video call.

You walk over to the front door, and you look in the peep-hole and you are relieved to see that the heroes are not here. You go back to your room to get dressed, before putting on a coat and a scarf in which you can nuzzle your face in. Pyro has not told you that you were not allowed outside by yourself, but you do not want to risk being recognized by him, or by one of his hero friends. You do not want to be forcibly taken back to your apartment, or locked in a hotel room like he said could be a good and safe idea.

You leave your apartment, swinging your backpack over your shoulder, and you leave the building quickly. A car is parked in front, and you see the flashy colors of what must be a hero costume. Luckily, he is too busy looking on his phone to notice you. The rest is also easy, you know the way like the back of your hand, and in twenty minutes, you are already at the door of the bookstore where Doyoung, Ten, and probably Taeyong are waiting for you.

You push the door open, and you smile at Renjun, the young student who works here during the school break when he is not living on the second floor. "Y/n! How are you?" he asks, approaching to give you a quick hug. "I'm doing just fine, and you kid? School?" he nods, smiling. Renjun is an orphan whom you all took under your wing a few years ago, and he has became a perfect little gentleman with good grades, and a smile that would make you blind if you looked at it for too long. "I'm fine, and school is going great too."

"I am proud of you!" you say, and he smiles even more brightly before the door to the bookstore opens to a potential client. "I'm going in the back to talk to the boys, if you need anything come see us, okay?" he nods and you ruffle his hair before you walk though a door behind the counter. The back shop serves as a reserve for books, and as a meeting place. It's not much, a coffee table, a TV hanging on the wall, and two old, dusty sofas on either side.

Oh, and there's a fridge and cupboard filled to the brim with snacks in case Renjun gets hungry. Or Taeyong. Ten and Doyoung's gaze turn to you, and Ten is the first to stand up. He helps you remove your bag, scarf and coat before inspecting the bandage. "I'm fine, Ten. Otherwise I would not be here." he shakes his head. "I know that, but nobody can be trusted. Who tells you they didn't inject you with something weird with the antidote." he mumbles and you tilt your head. "Idiot."

"No but it is true what, since when do we trust doctors." he says, offended and you roll your eyes before sitting down on the other couch. "Because they are doctors, and what would they gain from injecting us with strange drugs, Ten?" Doyoung answers for you, and you look at them. "You scared us when you didn't answer your phone." Doyoung is not one to be sentimental, or even worried, but sometimes he does, and you enjoy seeing the human behind the shell he has created for himself over the years.

"The poison he injected into me made my body tired to the point where even the shadows did not wake me up." you say, and both boys look stunned to hear something like that. "Maybe we should ask him to give you some extra so you can get through the nights." you laugh softly, not a bad idea, but you do not know how many doses you can take before your body completely shuts itself down or stop responding to the antidote which will certainly be harder to find without having to break into the hospital.

"He'll be dead by the end of the day anyway, so that doesn't matter." you turn your head to see Taeyong, his arms crossed against his chest, and his head resting against the doorframe that leads to the bookstore. "We can't kill him. Not now." you say, and Taeyong walks over shaking his head. "He hurt you, Y/n, that was not the plan, why should we let him live?" you take Taeyong's hand when he sits next to you, and his hand is ice cold, as usual.

"Because we still need him. We have a plan, and he is the only way to do what I didn't do the other day." Ten is about to speak, but Taeyong stops him by raising his hand. "What if he attacks you again? What if this time he decides to kill you?" he asks, and you turn completely to him. "Well he'll kill me. We knew from the start that we could not trust him despite the money we gave him, it's a risk I'm willing to take. If we don't do it, only god knows how long will pass before we have another opportunity like this."

Taeyong sighs.

He was born to be a leader, he knows it, and everyone else knows it. But he does not know how to keep his mask of leader on when, you, one of his dearest friends is ready to risk your own life for a mission which should be very simple if only the villain he hired could just stick to the fucking plan and obey him. The simple idea of losing you is something he cannot imagine, it is too much. He is the leader, sure, but you are the glue that keeps the team together. If you die, the team will no longer exist, and once again, he will find himself alone. Because he knows Renjun will resent him and go with Ten.

Or Renjun will find himself alone once more, because, because of him, Ten and Doyoung can hardly be outside without being recognized by passers-by. He is pulled out of his thought when a warm hand lands softly on his cheek, and he flutters his eyelids as he looks at you. "You were getting lost in your thoughts, Taeyong."

Like a cat, he leans against your hand to enjoy the warmth that he misses so dearly. "I know what I'm doing, Taeyong. I'll do everything in my power to finish this mission safe and sound, I promise you." he shakes his head. "You can't make that kind of promise, you know that." yes, you know it, and yet you do not hesitate to do it. It won't be your first rodeo after all, and it sure won't be your most dangerous mission either. It's even one of the simplest if you had to be honest with yourself. "I know, but I'll be back."

"She knows she can't die because I will do all I can to hunt her down even in Hell and bring her back here by the skin of her ass so I can kill her myself." you nod, and you bite your bottom lip so as not to laugh at Ten's choice of words. He always does what he can to make conversations easier, and you appreciat that. Not all the time, but right now, you do, because you can feel Taeyong relaxing.

"Call him Taeyong. Call the Beast."

The same evening, you are back in your apartment.

You are reading a message Renjun sent you, something about a book he is writing when he is not in class, when noises start coming from the common hallways. You  frown, but you do not move. Even though you know what is going to happen, your heart starts to race. Because unfortunately, when you see how the first part of the mission ended, you wonder if this one is going to turn out as bad. But knowing Taeyong, he probably briefed the villain on what he could do, and could not do.

To The cheap villains alliance: It's starting. From The cheap villains alliance/Taeyong: Please, be careful, and keep us informed as soon as possible.

Before the door swings open, you dial the number Pyro gave you, and when you hear the thud of the door crashing to the floor, probably in several pieces, you call the hero. It is not very late, and yet, he does not answer. It was not in the plan, again. "Where are you, shadow handler?" the hoarse voice of the Beast echoes in the apartment, and also in your head, so that you have to held your head in between your hands. "Do not do that." you whisper.

"Do you really think your boss's threats are going to stop me from doing what I want?" Oh shit. You get up from the couch, and hide behind it, as if it would stop a villain like the Beast from reaching you. "If you are here, I guess the antidote worked. Too bad my poison can only be cured once. The body still remembers it, and this time, it will be fatal for you." you dial Pyro's number once more, but this time, you hands are shaking so much that you wonder if you'll make it.

"Answer, you stupid hero." you mumble, and that's when you hear a sleepy voice from the other side. "Kun! Pyro! Oh my god, he is here, he is in my apartment!" you hear a noise, and you do not know if it's coming from your apartment, or the side of the hero who gets out of bed suddenly. "Help me, please, please." the sobs are fake, but you know that if you set your gaze on the Beast, you will cry for real this time, and that's the last thing you want. A villain does not deserve to see you cry. A hero either for that matter.

"I'm coming! Hide somewhere." you nod even though he can't see it. "Hurry up, please, I'm scared." you whisper, and the man makes an affirming noise before hanging up. It takes a lot to scare you. Heroes don't scare you, and neither do villains. But there are always some exceptions, and god, you would have liked to never meet this exception. If you make it out alive, you'll make Taeyong understand that next time, he'll have to hire a normal villain, not someone like that damn Beast.

"It surprised me when your boss contacted me to help you on a mission." the Beast says, and you hear the heavy sounds of his footsteps on the creaking floor. "I didn't think he was stupid enough to contact someone wanting you dead." okay, your death is wished for by many villains, heroes, and humain beings like others, but the Beast? What did you do to make him so angry that he risked betraying someone like Taeyong just to get revenge? Petty much?

"I don't care if I die, if that means I would have had the chance to kill you first." after that, he is silent. He has stopped moving, and his voice is still ringing in your head, so you have no idea where he is. He may very well be in front of the sofa, as he may be in your bedroom. You lower the brightness of your phone to send a message to the group chat.

To The cheap villains alliance: Taeyong, if I get out alive, you are a dead man.

Yes, you have to let him know that from the moment you leave this apartment, preferably alive, he will have to watch his back.

"I expected better from you, shadow handler." you lift your head and your breathing hitches when you see the Beast watching you over the back of the sofa. Oh god gamn it. You get up, and you walk around the sofa. "What did I do to you?" you ask when you finally find your voice, and the Beast laughs so hard that you clench your teeth so as not to scream to cover the atrocious noise. "Don't you remember? Don't make fun of me, I know you always remember everything."

He approaches you dangerously, and as he takes a step forward, you take a step back, at least until your back makes contact with the living room wall. You are stuck. But it is not over, not yet. The Beast made a mistake. He didn't turn off the lights when he entered. If he knew you as well as he says he does, he should have known that with the lights on, you can do whatever you want. You close your eyes, and you concentrates. At least you try, it is hard to think with the breath of the Beast so close.

He is so close that you can feel the warmth and the putrid smell of his breath against your face. "Come on, try harder, I'm sure you can remember." he whispers, and he raises his hand, and before he can make any movement, his arm is blocked. He looks shocked at first, and when he turns his head he laughs when he sees a hand around his biceps. "Do you really think your little shadows are going to keep me from turning you into dust?" he asks. "No, they are not strong enough, but yours on the other hand.."

He frowns when he is thrown back by his own shadow. Even though it's just a shadow, it has the same strenght as the Beast, so it's easy for the shadow to get rid of him. The Beast crashes on the dining table, and one foot goes loose under his weight, and he collapses to the groung. "You will pay for that." yeah, you don't doubt it. You haven't used your power for a while now, so that simple use of the Beast's shadows is enough to tire you out. You won't be able to do it any more.

When the Beast gets up, other footsteps are heard in the apartment, and damn it, you are relieved. It could very well be help for the villain, but for once, you want to be positive, and think that this is Pyro, and his little hero friends. You slip down the wall, and you do not even have to pretend to cry, since your cheeks are already wet and shining with tears. You hadn't even realized it. Is it because of fear? Fatigue? You wish you knew.

You close your eyes, and you take a long breath that is cut short when two hands rest on your shoulders. "We are here, hey, we are here. Take a deep breath." it is not the voice of Pyro, but that of one of the two heroes who have come to check on you. Yuta, if you remember his name. Death Stare, yeah that's him. You hold your head in your hands when the Beast screams, and you are hardly surprised to see that you are the only one affected by his voice. "We're gonna get you out of here."

Death Stare takes your hand, and he helps you stand up. "I'll join you in a minute." he says before taking you out of the apartment. "The Beast..The Beast.." you continue to whisper, and Yuta squeezes your hand in his. "Everything will be fine, don't worry, you are safe now." you almost trip down the stairs a few times, but Yuta is always here to put you right back on your feet. When you are outside, you are shaken by the cold wind which whips your face, and your bare arms. You didn't have time to take a jacket. You didn't have time to take anything either. At least, you have your phone in your pocket.

Your gaze is caught by the lights of the ambulance and police cars that are parked outside the apartment complex, and you bite your lip. That's a lot of people, luckily your face is not known by the police, unlike Ten and Doyoung who think a mask is unnecessary when using their powers in public. "I have to let her here, I'm trusting you with her, I have to go back." Death Stare says to a woman who nods, and put her hand on your arm to get your attention. "Come inside, or you'll get cold."

She helps you get into the ambulance, and immediately makes sure you are okay. She checks your pulse, your heartbeat, your blood pressure, and finally the stiches. Fortunately, they are still intact. "How do you feel?" she asks nicely, and you shrug. "Shaken." that's all you can answer, and the woman understands perfectly, she does not pressure you into talking more.

The next minutes are quite strange.

It is sometimes silent in the street, or it is sometimes noisy because of the screams. But silence always returns. At least until you hear the sound of broken glass, and the sound of gunshots being fired. You straighten, and you grip your thighs with your fingers, so hard that you hurt yourself, but at least it helps you keep your head cool. After a while, the ambulance door opens, and when you turn your head, you see Pyro. He is not in his civilian clothes, but in his hero costume. It's black, and understated, unlike the heroes who like to add flashy colors to their costumes.

"It's over." he says angrily, and you sit up, your head tilted. "The Beast ran away." oh.

Heroes don't kill villains. They are here to stop them, and to bring the victims to safety, and sometimes it does not go as planned, and the villains escape. It is very rare, especially against heroes like Pyro, Death Stare and Mayhem (John). You start to shake and once again, this reaction is natural, and not forced. If the Beast was close to killing you today, you know he will come back, time and time again, no matter what Taeyong tells him, to finish whatever he started.

"What am I going to do?" you ask in a weak voice, and the hero gets into the truck, closing the door once the paramedic is out. "I have nowhere to go, especially now that he knows where I live." Kun takes off his mask, and he runs his fingers through his hair where they stick to his forehead from sweat. "I will protect you personally. You have nothing to fear anymore, I promise you."

Kun didn't lie.

After the Beast's attack, he decided that it would be safer for you to move in with him, in his apartment. Heroes don't do that. Normally in this kind of situation they let the police deal with the victims who are still in danger, but for some reason, Kun decided it would be different this time, that he would protect you himself.

You looked surprised, but deep down, you were very happy about it. Despite the Beast not obeying Taeyong's basic plan and orders, you came much further than you had thought you would. Because yes, getting closer to Kun is what you were looking for, not for a second you would have thought to be in his apartment. By offering you that, he had just made it easier for you without even knowing it. Heroes are not so bad after all.

Kun's apartment is not as you would have imagined. You know that pro-heroes make a lot of money, even more so when they have an agency and great heroes working for them, so you expected a large apartment, with floor to ceiling windows giving a splendid view of the city, with expensive furniture and artwork on the walls, but not at all. Kun's apartment is large enough for two people, and the decor is simple, just like him.

It's easy to feel good here, to feel at home, even though you are here on a mission, and not to imagine what your life would be like if you had made different decisions. Well, you still need protection from the Beast who will not give up until he sees your dead body at his feet, so being here is always a plus.

Taeyong, Doyoung and Ten do not think the same.

You had to wait until Kun left for work the day after the attack to contact them. Before that, you had to convinced Kun to go, you had to convince him that everything would be okay, and that he would not come into an apartment devastated by the Beast. You made it clear to him that even if the Beast found you thanks to your scent, he would never dare set foot in the apartment of a hero like Pyro. The Beast is brave, yes, but not to stupid as to sign his death warrant. At least, that's what you want to think.

Now you are sitting in Kun's bed, your back against the headboard, one leg pulled up to your chest, and you phone poised precariously on your knee. You dial Taeyong's number, the latter waking up much earlier than the other boys. After two rings, he answers.

"Y/n, how are you?" he asks, he is trying to sound calm, but you can feel the tension in his voice. You do not know if it's because of your radio silence last night, or because of the message you sent him, promising to make him a dead man. "The Beast made it clear to me that he was going to use the contract you gave him to kill me, so I don't know how I'm doing Taeyong." you mumble, and you hear his breathing quicken. "But on a more positive note, I'm at Pyro's. He lets me live in his apartment until they find the Beast."

"Y/n, I'm so sorry." Taeyong whispers, and you imagine him walking down the halls of the apartment above his bookstore, trying not to wake the boys up by talking too loudly. "You have to do something for me now, Taeyong. Find the Beast. Kill him, because if the heroes find him, he will not hesitate to throw everything out about the contract for a remission. And if he does, I'm next on their list."

You hear the sound of the door opening and closing, probably the one in the kitchen where he is going to lock himself up to prepare Renjun's breakfast. The other boys can do it on their own, and also because Taeyong enjoys torturing them a little. "The heroes don't know who you are, even if he gives them your alias, they will not believe him, they won't have any proof to arrest you."

"Taeyong, if he speaks, I won't be the only one in danger. Ten and Doyoung will be even more so. What about Renjun? What will he do when the heroes show up in the middle of the night in the bookstore to take you out? He'll be alone, once again. And god damn it, I don't want this kid to have to suffer one more time because you are not doing your fucking job properly!"

Taeyong remains silent for a long minute, and even though you know you crossed the line, you do not blame yourself. He needs to hear it. "You're still here?" you ask weakly, and hear him clear his throat. "Yeah, I'm just waiting for you to spit out some more of your poison. It's the first time you've really told me what you're thinking, so go ahead, tell me everything, you know I can take it."

You bite your lip. You and Taeyong have known each other since high school, you know that nothing you can say will change your friendship. At least you hope so, because you have a lot to tell him. "Taeyong, you are a good leader, believe me, I've met some terrible ones. But this time, you screwed up completely. The minimum to do when you hire a villain for a mission like this is to check if they have something against one of us, for fuck's sake! I almost fucking died twice because of you, and the fact that you trust the first person who dares to smile at you show that maybe you should step away from being a fucking leader! You're so fucking needy for attention that you are ready to put us all in danger."

"Is that what you really think?" he asks in a small voice, and you sigh. But before you have time to answer, you hear the sound of the key in the lock of the front door. "I have to go." you hang up and shove the phone the the pocket of your hoodie. "Y/n, where are you?" Kun asks, and you turn your head towards the door. "Your room." the young hero pushes the door open, and he smiles when he looks at you. "Is everything okay? Is the guest room not good enough for you?"

You shrug, ignoring the question. "What are you doing here? I thought being a hero meant being overworked, especially right now." you tilt your head, and Kun smiles, giving you time to look at his dimples. Cute. "Touché. The other heroes take care of everything, so I asked for some free time to be with you. I can't protect you if I'm on the other side of town." he is not wrong, you think, pushing yourself to make room for him on the bed.

Kun settles down, hugging a pillow tight against his chest, resting his head on the headboard. "And how do you plan to protect me?" you ask, and he shrugs. "By preventing you from leaving the apartment, by not letting you go anywhere on your own." you frown, giggling. "Try to follow me in the bathroom, and I'll show you that it is not just heroes who can fight." it's enough to make Kun laugh, and it's a sound you might have enjoyed under other circumstances. "I can not wait to see that."

"You don't think I'm capable of fighting you, mister pro-hero?" you ask, turning to him and he closes his eyes, laughing softly. "I have powers too, you know, and I'm sure I can kick your little flames' ass." Kun suddenly seems very interested as he straightens up, resting the pillow back on the bed. "Do you really mean that? Do you want to show me?" you do not think your body will be able to withstand a fight with someone like Pyro, but you know you could kick his ass under normal circumstances.

"I would love to, really, but we are not intimate enough for me to show you my powers." Kun throws his head back, laughing heartily. "You really are something." you shrug, what can you say, you are amazing. "Did you go to the hero academy?" he asks, and you nod, biting the inside of your cheek. "I went there, and I missed the provisional license, twice, so I decided to give up." Kun pouts, and luckily, you are strong, otherwise you would have leaned down to bite on his lower lip. "It's a shame, who knows, we could have been partner."

"I would have hired you in my agency, because we know very well that my agency would have been way more successful than yours." you smirk, and you know you are looking for troubles, but you need to know where Kun's limits lie. "Do you think you would have found better heroes than mine? Better than Death Stare, Mayhem and Strike?" you run the tip of your tongue over your lower lip, sighing, ignoring the way Kun's gaze follow your tongue. "Mayhem spends too much time flirting with victims, so of course we can always do better." it's a slippery slope you are going down, because you know that Pyro and Mayhem have always been best friends.

"I take it that he flirted with you." he says, and you shrug, you are not going to tell him. "It doesn't surprise me, but you know, that's part of his charm, the citizens adore him anyway!" well, you can't deny that Mayhem is hot. He is tall, muscular, and his long hair suits him perfectly. "Maybe I should have flirted back, I would have someone else to help me kick your ass." Kun rolls his eyes, getting up from the bed. "Two against one? That's not really fair, but even like that, I know I would win."

You have to show him what you are capable of, within the limits that your body imposes on you. You close your eyes, and it only takes half a second for one of the shadows who love to torture you during the night to appear in front of you, watching you curiously. With a nod, you indicate the curtains, and the shadow hastens to open, bathing the room in a yellow light. Immediately, Kun's shadows looms behind him as he prepares to leave the room.

"What the hell?" he frowns when he feels a pressure on his arm, preventing him from going any further, pulling him in once more, and slamming the door in front of his face. "A problem?" you ask, tilting your head. Kun is surprised to see you on the bed, as someone seems to be holding him back, but when he turns his eyes, the shadow is back on the floor, as still as Kun. "What just happened?"

You get up from the bed, shrugging your shoulders. "You are getting old Pyro boy." you say as you open the door and leave the room without the slightest problem. "Did you do that?" he asks, following you. "Me who did what?" you open the fridge to take out the bottle of water which you open to take a sip. "You used your powers to keep me from going out!" you laugh, practically choking on the water in your mouth; "I told you Kun, we are not intimate enough. You probably just imagined it all."

Kun shakes his head, he knows what he felt, and it was a hand on his arm. A cold hand, almost ghostly. He knows you did it, but as of right now, he can't prove it. But he will. He'll for you to show him your powers.

For the week after moving in with the hero, you need to put yourself back in your place when you start to feel more at home than with a man you are supposed to betray. But it's difficult, because Kun is such a lovely host, who puts your needs and protection first, even arguing with his friends because he does not want to leave you alone. But at the end of the day, you know you can't afford to fall for him.

In another life, maybe.

This morning, you are awaken when the curtains in your bedroom are drawn open, letting in the sun which warms the bare skin of your legs. You turn onto your stomach, covering yourself with the blanket, muttering something Kun does not quite understand. "Get up, sleeping beauty, we have to go out!" at that, you stuck your head out of the blanket, frowing, your eyes still closed. "Go out?" Kun nods, but you don't see him do it. "I have to go to the agency, so you are coming with me."

You get out of bed quickly, and Kun laughs as you walk into the bathroom to get dressed. Unable to return to your apartment to retrieve clothes, you used the hero's credit card to buy everything you need until you are finally allowed to go home. And when you come out, Kun is already ready to go, his hand resting on the doorknob. "Ready?" he asks, and you nod.

The agency is not far from the hero's apartment, but he takes his car not to take the slightest risk. The Beast could be anywhere, stalking your scent or even your cell phone if he is smart enough, because you do not know if Taeyong did what you ask him or not. When he parks his car in the parking lot, he turns to you. "You better behave, with the heroes, okay?" he says, and you take a falsely offended expression. "Are you really doubting me, hero?" you ask, and he sighs. "You said you would kick my ass last time, god only knows what you can tell them."

He is not wrong, so you shrug. "I say this because I know it's true, and I could kick all their asses, trust me." he chuckles, and gets out of the car. You follow him closely, your hands buried in the pockets of your coat. When he pushes the door of the agency, you are surprised to hear nothing but silence. You expected to see heroes running to and fro, responding to call from panicked citizens, not to see them behind desks, speaking in low voices not to bother anyone around.

"Kun!" a voice breaks the silence, and the hero rolls his eyes as he watches the hero with the long hair approach you. "Oh, who do we have here, Y/n. You know I'm still waiting for you to buy me a drink." he says, turning to you and you tilt your head. "To thank you for letting the Beast come into my home in the middle of the night?" Johnny's cheeks take on a pinkish tinge under the attack, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Kun turn his back to you so you won't see him laughing. "You are not wrong." Death Stare says, leaning against a door that probably lead to other offices.

You wink at Johnny when Kun asks you to follow him into his office. When you enter the room, the bright colors attack your retina right away. "Oh my god, you are a fanboy!" you exclaim and Kun clears his throat. From all part of his office, you can see figurines, posters, and merchandise belonging to the current number one hero in the country. "I never thought your office would look like an 8-year-old's bedroom, that's really cute."

Kun whines as he drops into his office chair, and he busy himself working on his computer so as not to have to answer you. You laugh, and turn to a section of the wall where various newspaper articles are hung. "Are these the arrests you made?" you ask, and the man looks in your direction. "Yeah!" he bulges his chest, probably extremely proud of his achievements. It is not for nothing if he is so popular amongs locals.

You recognize several villains, for having spoken to them at least once, or for having witnessed the arrest live on television. But your gaze stops on one particular photo, and you frown. A boy, quite young, with red hair, and a smile on his face despite the handcuffs and the hero preventing him from making a move. Your eyes fill with tears, but you shake your head, you can't cry. Not here. Not in front of the hero. He would start to suspect something when you are so so close to succeeding your mission.

You do not hear Kun approaching you, and you jump when he opens his mouth. He must have noticed the article you dwelled on. "Red Arrow." he begins, and you bite the inside of your cheek. "I admit that catching him was all down to luck. From the moment he started causing chaos in town, I thought I would never get a hold of him." he explains. Yes, you know what happened. You know that Lucas has escaped the grasp of the heroes and the police on countless occasions. Thanks to you, Doyoung, Ten and Taeyong.

"Why?" you ask in a trembling voice, and Kun watches you, arching his eyebrows. "He was so young when he was arrested, not even 18. Why did you arrest him?" Kun sighs, and he pulls away from the wall to sit on the edge of his desk. "You can't let a villain go free because he is young, Y/n, that would be reckless. Powers get stronger and stronger with age, we could not risk seeing him grow bigger, stronger and more aggressive."

You scoff, shaking your head. Lucas was not aggressive, he would never hurt a fly, he just had trouble controlling his powers like a lot of people in the world. He didn't pass the hero academy entrance exams, and no one taught him how to wield his powers. Taeyong tried, but he too had to manage his own life behind. In a way, it's your fault if he is in jail now, you are the ones who didn't take the time to train him properly when he joined the family.

But it is also the fault of the heroes who refused to understand that it was not his fault. Sure, hanging out with villains does not promise a bright future, but he was not looking to hurt either, it was not in his plans to kill two people with his arrow that day. He couldn't control it. It's that simple, he never really caused any chaos in town, but it is nearly impossible to make heroes understand a thing. "Are you okay?" Kun asks, and you must be looking extremely suspicious, but you take a deep breath, turning on your heels to face the hero, nodding your head, smiling despite your anger. "I'm doing perfectly fine."

"Y/n!"

Renjun's reaction is not what you expected. The boy has a bloody temper, he gets angry very quickly, especially when he doesn't understand something, and when he feels abandoned. So you thought he would get angry when he saw you walk through the door to the bookstore, but instead, he leaps into your arms, wrapping his arms around your neck. "I missed you." he whispers, and you rub his back. "I missed you too, kid."

After a little minute, he takes a step back, and he pouts looking at you. "I promise you everything will be back to normal very soon." he does not seem to believe you, but that's okay. You put your hand on his cheek, and he leans into the warmth of your hand. "You'll see, before you know it, I'll be back." he nods, and you place a kiss on his forehead before walking through the back door. The boys are not here, and you are not surprised, it's way too early.

So instead, you push a hidden door at the back of the room and you go up the stairs to the apartment they share. The place is quiet, except for the sounds of hushed conversation coming from the kitchen. The door is open, and when Ten's gaze lands on you, the conversation ends. "What are you doing here? Did something happen?" he asks, getting up from his chair, and you shake your head.

"Everything is fine, don't worry." you say as you open the fridge. You take out several ingrediens under Taeyong's suspicious gaze. "May I know why you are raiding our fridge?" you stuff everything in your backpack, and you turn to the boy. "Kun was asleep when I left. If he is up when I get back, I'll tell him I was at the supermarket to make him a well-deserved breakfast." they nod their heads, they don't question you anymore, they trust you. "I needed to see you."

"Oh, do you miss us?" Ten coos, and you almost regret coming. "Maybe a little, but I will not give you the pleasure to say anything more." you mumble, and Taeyong pulls up the chair next to him so you can sit down. "Everything is going fine, don't worry. The Beast doesn't seem to have tracked me down yet, and the heroes haven't seen him in town since the last attack." you explain, and Taeyong releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I'm close to my goal, so give me a few more days."

The boys worry about you, they let you know several times a day, and you understand. You are the target of the Beast, that Taeyong couldn't find, and on top of that, you spend your time surrounded by heroes. Heroes who could find out who you really are, and lock you up like they did with Lucas. "We are going to get him back, don't worry." you can promise Renjun to come home quickly, but you cannot promise the boys to bring Lucas back. It's a delicate situation, and even if you manage to get close to the goal, you do not know if you will be able to go that far.

Basically, the mission was to get revenge for Lucas' arrest, but over time, and in the sights of how your relationship with Kun progressed, you figured that maybe there was a way to get the young boy back. You do not know if it's actually possible, but you need that little bit of hope to hold on. You turn to Taeyong who is nervously playing with the hem of his hoodie, and you put your hand on his. "I'm sorry Taeyong, for what I told you last time on the phone." the man shakes his head, smiling tenderly. "Don't worry, it's already forgotten."

You do not know what you would do without him, or without Doyoung and Ten. "I have to go, I don't want him to send his squad to find me." you get up from your chair, and you sigh. It's harder than you thought it would be. Leaving what you call your second home, even if you live on your own on a daily basis. "Be careful, alright?" Doyoung says, and you nod. "Of course. Always."

When you walk through the apartment door, and walk to the bedroom, you find Kun still asleep. He looks peaceful, with his hair messy on the pillow, and his blanket covering part of his face. In another life, you think, heading for the kitchen. From your bag, you take out the ingredients you stole from Taeyong's fridge, and you busy yourself with preparing breakfast. You never had the chance to do so, because Kun always wake up before you, and he made it his personal mission to make you as comfortable as possible.

You are not as good as him in the kitchen, and it ends with an unmistakable uproar when the pan in which you were cooking the eggs fall to the ground. You do not know how it happened, but it did. What you don't know either is how Kun manages not to wake up in a hurry, ready to yell at you for being so reckless with his dear cooking equipment. But no, you can still hear his long breaths as you approach the bedroom.

"Weirdo." you whisper as you return to the kitchen to finish breakfast. Okay, the eggs don't look very good, and you are not even sure it's perfectly cooked, but it'll do. You pour coffee into a cup, and orange juice in a glass that you nearly drop. This is the last time you will enter a kitchen, you think, carrying the tray to the bedroom. You put it on the bedside table, and sit on the edge of the bed.

You do not need to open your mouth, because the smell of food is enough to make Kun stires awake. He pushes the blanket away, a smile on his face, his eyes still closed. "Good morning." he whispers in a sleepy voice, and you can't help but smile too. When he finally opens his eyes, and his gaze lands on the tray, he sits up against the headboard. "What is that?" he asks. "It's for you. It's not perfect, and I really don't recommend eating the eggs, but it's a way of thanking you."

"You don't need to thank me, I told you that already." he takes the cup of coffee, and he blows on it gently. "I do it because it's my job, and because I want to." he explains, and of course, you understand, but still. "Yes, but I'm making you miss your job, that's not good." he takes a sip of coffee which is, just as he likes it, and that makes his heart beat a little faster. Maybe. "I'll go back to work when I know you are safe."

Will you ever be completely safe? You are not sure, but it's something Kun doesn't need to know. You take the glass of juice, and take a sip under Kun's amused gaze. "What?" you ask with a frown, and he shakes his head. "Nothing." he doesn't stop smiling with amusement, and it starts to annoy you. "What?" you whine, and he throws his head back to laugh. God, you hate how much you love that laugh.

You put your glass on the tray, and you take the cup from Kun's hand to put it down too. Kun is startled, but when you get back on the bed to sit on his lap, he doesn't say anything more. He puts his hands on your hips to keep your from tipping back, and he tilts his head. "Hi." you roll your eyes. "Hi yourself." you put your hands on his shoulders. "Are you going to tell me why you are looking at me like that?" he shakes his head, and you pout. Kun is a simple man, and when you pout, he gives you what you want. Usually.

You see Kun's gaze slide over your lips and giggle softly. "Because you are beautiful?" you wrap you arms around the back of his neck to play with his hair, and that's enough to make Kun's head straighten up. "You're not too bad either." his fingers slide down your sides, and he tilts his head. "Can I kiss you?" he asks in a low voice, and you nod. Is it for the mission, or because you are actually craving it? Who knows, not you anyway.

Kun leans in and rests his lips on yours for a simple kiss, but in to time, the kiss becomes much more fiery. You nibble Kun's lip and he opens his mouth slightly, and you take advantage of it, finding his tongue, tasting the coffee he was drinking. The hero's fingers tighten around your waist, and instictively, you roll your hips, causing the young man to growl. "Do you know how bad I wanted to do this." he whispers against your lips, you did not know, but you are happy to know that you can have that kind of effect on the hero.

"I don't know, tell me." you whisper, and is surprised when Kun rocks you onto the bed to straddle your hips. He bends down, and runs the tip of his tongue over your lips, and the contact is gone as quickly as it happened, which makes you sigh, much to Kun's delight. "You wanted too, I know that." he seems so sure of himself that you roll your eyes. "What makes you say that?"

His lips slide slowly down your cheek, your jaw, ending in your neck which he kisses warmly. "I see you, you know. I see you looking at my lips when I speak. I see the way you look at me when I get out of the shower." You could laugh, really, because even though you are here for the purpose of betraying Kun, you are human, and the hero's body was sculpted by the Gods, there is nothing you can do about it if your eyes slide over his chest from time to time.

"Because you don't?" you ask, but your sentence is cut short when Kun bites the skin of your neck. He licks the wound, and he sits up, caging your face in between his hands. "Of course I do. It's hard not to." so much for being professional, you think, rolling your eyes. You push him to the other side of the bed, and it's your turn to be on top, your legs on either side of Kun's thighs, Kun who looks at you with a smirk.

"What do you think you are doing?" he asks, and you shrug, rolling your hips very lightly against Kun's crotch. "I was thinking of watching a movie." Kun sits up, his torso against your chest, and he smiles. "I do not think so, no." he puts his lips on your throat which he kisses several time, biting the skin a little harder each time, enough to make you buck your hips. "Eager, aren't we?"

He takes one of your ankles in his hand to maneuver your leg so that it is on the other side of the leg you are already standing above. He makes you sit, and when you roll your hips again, he clenches the muscles of his thighs, and it is enough to make you moan softly. "Are you so need that you are going to use my thigh to get off?" he scoffs, and you put a hand against his mouth. "Shut up Kun."

The friction of your clothed clit against Kun's thigh is something you cannot describe. It is rough, but good at the same time. "If you want to get off like this, you should at least do it properly." his voice against your ear makes you whine, tears already forming in the corner of your eyes with the pleasure flooding you so suddenly. He moves his hands on your waist to move you quicker on his thigh, the tense of the muscle against your heating core is absolutely delicious.

You try to bite your lips to quiet your moans, but it is useless, especially when Kun bites your lower lip, forcing your mouth open. He kisses you, swallowing all of your moans. He feels uncomfortably tight in the confines of his boxers, but he does not say anything. "You are doing so well baby." his mouth his hot, and you close your eyes shut. Seeing Kun's face, and his smirk would only bring you quicker to the edge.

He feels the way your thighs are shaking, and he scoffs. "Already ready to cum? Good girl." you are making a mess of his leg with your juices, and if normally you would be embarrassed, you can't find it in yourself to be right now. "Come on, cum for me, show me how good you can be." his voice is low, and honey-like. And like that, you feel your climax hitting you. And it hits harder than ever. You see stars behind your eyes, and you are pretty sure you black out for a minute or so.

"That's it." Kun whispers, and when you body falls limp against him, he rubs your back, kissing the top of your head. "You did so well." you feel the beads of sweat rolling down your spine, and you grimaces slightly. Without a word, and still out of breath, you take your shirt off under Kun's hungry gaze. It's when you move to sit back on his lap that you see and feel the tent in his pants. Poor baby must be so hard right now.

"I can take care of it." he whispers, his lips finding their way to your naked shoulder to kiss and bite as he wishes. "Let me." you say, and he helps you take off his boxers by lifting his hips from the bed, and when you are finally back in the same position, you take his hard and leaking member in your hand. You use the pre-cum to make the slide easier, and immediately, the boys huffs, eyes closing. He's been waiting for his release that he doesn't know how long he'll last.

You kiss him, all teeth and tongue, it is sloppy, disgusting, with drool running down your chins. Kun bucks his hips, fucking into your hand and you move quicker, twisting your wrist in a way that makes him moan. It's obsene the sound that come out of his mouth, but you love to hear him, so much. The hero is usually so composed, that seeing him coming undone because of your hand is a good ego boost.

"Fuck, I'm going to-to cum." he groans, and you smile softly, biting on the lobe of his ear. "Are you?" he nods with vigor, and you drop your head, opening your mouth big enough for a bead of spit to drop on the top of his dick, to make it extra wet, and with how he reacts, that's how he likes it. You run your finger in the slit, and with your free hand, you fondle his balls, and when you feel him tense up, you watch as rops of sticky cum dirty your hand. "Good boy." you say like he did earlier, and he smiles, completely blissed out.

"Gross." you say looking at your hand, and you rub it clean on Kun's abs. The hero winces at the feeling of the cum when it starts to dry on his skin. "You are gross." yeah, you are. You yelp when he takes ahold of your thighs to get out of bed, not letting go of you. "What are you doing?" you ask with a laugh. "We need a shower."

And if he showed you how wet he likes things in the shower, then so be it.

When you open your eyes, the first thing you notice is the warm body against yours. Kun's arm is firmly around your waist, and you feel his breath against your neck. It must have been barely two hours since you fell asleep, which means the sun is still shining outside, and you still have time to enjoy the day. Well, if you can. Because when you try to stand up, Kun's arm pulls you closer to him, and you sigh weakly.

If the boys knew what you just did, they would be pissed off. It was definitely not in the plan, but it takes what it takes to make Kun more open to you, more vulnerable. Enough to break him more easily, you think, looking at the ceiling. You remain motionless for a few more minutes, letting yourself be lulled by the hero's regular breathing, and after a while, he finally releases his grip on your waist to turn his back to you, you take the opportunity to get out of bed.

Your clothes have been thrown haphazardly around the room, and it takes a moment for you to find everything. But instead of putting them on, you throw everything in the laundry basket in the corner of the room, and you take a clean t-shirt and pants from the section of the wardrobe reserved for you in the guest room. When you return to the hero's room, you observe Kun. He is always so peaceful when he sleeps, and you have to refrain yourself from running your fingers through his soft hair.

In another life, you think.

There is a reason you didn't let Kun convince you to show him your powers. You needed to save it, to regain strenght so that you could use it as much as you needed. You walk over to the window and push the curtains so that the bedroom is completely bathed in sunlight. Even though the shadows are stronger at night, they are easier to manipulate and recall when there is natural light.

You call a single shadow. The one who is the most obedient, the one you spent all your childhood manipulating, the only one who does not torture you at the first given opportunity. "Prevent him from moving if he wakes up." you articulate without any sound coming out of your mouth, and the shadow nods. You walk out of the room, and with a silent step, you stop in front of Kun's office door. It is not difficult to enter, since he has nothing to hide, so the door is not locked. You only need one thing, the key to the agency.

And when you find it, you refrain from making a sound of victory, you do not have time for that. You pick up your phone, and open the conversation with the boys. You could call them, to make it easier, but you do not want to risk waking Kun up, or getting his attention.

To The cheap villains alliance: Are you there? From The cheap villains alliance / Ten / Doyoung / Taeyong: Yes! To The cheap villains alliance: Perfect. I have the key to Pyro's agency. The details of Lucas's arrest are out there, but to get there on my own, I need your help. I need chaos. I need all of the agency's heroes, Kun included, to be on the streets. From The cheap villains alliance / Taeyong: You can count on us. When do you want to do it? To The cheap villains alliance: Tonight. Wait until night has fallen. From The cheap villains alliance / Ten: The festivities will begin at 9 p.m.

You smile, you knew you could count on them. And they are the best at creating chaos without actually causing injuries. You do not want that, you do not want innocent blood on your hands. You just want the heroes out of your reach. You quickly leave the office, stuffind the key in your pants pocket. For Kun not to notice, you'll need to keep him occupied until it is time for him to go, and leave you alone.

So you go back to the room where Kun is only waking up. The shadow sees you, and it disappears with the blink of an eye. And you sit on the edge of the bed, you hand resting on Kun's cheek. "Hello sleeping beauty." he smiles, his dimples deep and tempting. You take advantage of the sight given to you by a very sleepy Kun, because it is certainly the last time you will see him like that.

From The cheap villains alliance / Ten: Let the show begin.

From where you are standing in the living room, you smile when you see the message. You do not know what they are going to do, or whatever they are going to do it themselves or ask some trusted villains. But you think it will be the latter, the safest option. It would be silly to get caught by the police when they are so close to getting Lucas back.

To The cheap villains alliance: Be careful, kids.

You put your phone in your pocket, and you settle down next to Kun. The hero has spent the last twenty minutes searching for a movie on Netflix. He puts his arm around your shoulders, and you move closer to him, close enough that your thighs are touching. The movie begins, and when his phone rings on the coffee table, you try not to show your excitement.

"Sorry." he mumbles when he sees Johnny's picture showing up. He picks up the phone, and he leaves the living room to answer. You do not move, even though you are dying to know what they are saying to each other, but when he comes back to the living room, he is much more agitated. "I have to go." he says, and you stand up, frowning. "Is something wrong?" he shakes his head as he walks to his office. You follow him closely, and you watch him put on his costume.

"Villains have decided to fight in town. They need every hero they can get." oh, so that's it. You know that this is Ten's idea. The latter loves to create conflict between villains just to see them fiight, to see the strenght they really have. Little shit. "Be careful, Kun, please." you say in a low voice, and he turns to you. He cups your face and kisses you. "I promise you." he turns around you, and without another word, he leaves the apartment.

You have no time to waste, because you do not know how long it will take Kun before coming back. You dial Taeyong's number, and the man answer almost immediately. "So? Is he gone?" he asks, and you nod as you pull on your coat. "Yeah, just now. A brawl of villains, really?" the man laughs as you leave the apartment. "You have to ask Ten, I have nothing to do with it."

Yeah, that what you thought. You go down the stairs at full speed, while being careful that the neighbords do not see you go. "They haven't gone there, hopefully?" you ask, and the noise he makes does not bode well. "Ten wanted to go up there to watch, and Doyoung followed him to stop him from doing anything stupid." fuck.

"Yeah, that's Ten. If either of them gets hurt, or arrested, I swear to god I'll find them and kill them myself. I think being suffocated by your own shadow is a good way to die." you mumble, and Taeyong laughs softly. You know he must be rolling his eyes. "Is Renjun home?" Taeyong does not respond, and you hear the sound of doors opening on the fly, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Taeyong? Taeyong, is Renjun home?" when you hear nothing but silence, you start to build up in tension. You do not know if it's worry, or anger with Taeyong who does not tell you anything. "Lee-Fucking-Taeyong, if you don't answer me right fucking now, you're going to die too." when he picks up the phone, he is out of breath, he must have run down the stairs to check the bookstore.

"He is not here."

"Taeyong, you only had one thing to do, and that was to make sure Renjun was home!" you say with clenched teeth. You want to yell at him, make him understand that the situation is much more serious now, but you cannot be noticed by passers-by. You probably already look stupid standing in the middle of the sidewalk. "The villains don't know Renjun, they won't know they have to be careful is he ever passes by."

It is not for nothing that they are villains. They don't care about anything. They only live to hurt heroes, and to cause chaos. If they have to hurt a teenager to beat a hero, or a cop, they'll do it without a second thought. Renjun cannot defend himself, at least not against them. "I thought I heard him in his room when Ten and Doyoung left, that's why I didn't check." Taeyong says in a quick voice, and you sigh.

"Call Doyoung, tell him Renjun is not home. Tell him to find him and bring him home. Ten too. That they don't stay outside, it's too dangerous." you are about to hang up when Taeyong speaks. "And you, are you going to continue the mission?" good god, you want to hit him right now, he wastes the little time you have. "Taeyong, Renjun trusts us to protect him, and take care of him, we don't have time to talk, you fucking stupid leader, call them!"

You hang up without thinking about what you just said to Taeyong, or the time you actually lost just to insult him. Renjun is important, and so does the mission. You cannot favor one in spite of the other. You've made up your mind, not only are they going to bring Renjun home, you are also going to get Lucas out. You shove your phone in your coat pocket, and run to Pyro's agency. As you predicted, the agency is empty, and silent. You close the door behind you, and walk to Kun's office.

No one has ever dared to break into an agency, and the heroes all trust each other, so you do not have to worry about cameras, since they don't have any. In the office, you rummage in the drawers, and cupboards to find the keys that will give you access to Lucas.

See, it's not for nothing that this date is so important. If this month is so important. A month ago, you were sitting in the back of the bookstore with the boys, and you were watching the news when Lucas's picture popped up on the screen. A hero, Pyro, spoke up, so proud of himself when he announced that Lucas would be sent to a higher security prison the following month. He also said that in the meantime, the boy would be kept by the heroes in the underground cells at the agency. That day, he spoke without knowing that his words were not going to be forgotten by three people eager to find their friend back.

"Is that what you are looking for?"

The voice is followed by the sound of keys. And when you turn, you tilt your head when you see Kun with the keys leading to the underground cells. You shove your hands in the pockets of your coat, your head bowed. "How did you know?" you ask, and for a second, the hero is taken aback by the lightness with which you speak, as if you had just asked him to talk about the weather. "I always knew."

"What do you mean?" you ask, frowning. The hero sighs, and he doesn't show the slightest sign of a struggle, which means he has not visited the other heroes. "I knew it the moment I saw you, on that street, when you passed out. At first, I thought you had really been attacked by the Beast. And then in the second attack, I heard him speak, I heard him call you the shadow handler, and the contract. That's when I found out." what follow does not bode well.

"All the heroes know you. You, and your little friends. You had caused quite a stir after the arrest of Red Arrow, and that's how I made the connection. Why did the famous shadow handler would come out of her hiding place if not to help her friend escape." you run your tongue over your dry lips and take a step in the direction of Kun who is not moving.

"So, why did you save me? Why did you ask me to live with you?" even in the dark of the office, you can see Kun's cheeks turn red. "Because it was the best way to keep an eye on you, but I guess I was wrong. You are way smarter than you seem." you and your friends are very smart, and you have a lot of resources.

"What are you going to do?" you ask, and the hero lets his shoulders drop. "Are you going to stop me? Are you going to lock me up with Lucas? Oh maybe you will kill me?" he shakes his head, and the sound escaping his lips is almost painful. "See, I knew you were manipulating me the whole time, and yet for a while, when I saw that nothing was happening, I really thought you had changed your mind about Red Arrow."

You roll your eyes as you look around. "Kun, a villain cannot change. Once they start doing evil, nothing can bring them back to the right path. You have said it yourself, and more than once." he approaches you in turn, and he is so close that you can smell his perfume, the smell of embers which clings to his costume. "But maybe you could have? You and your friends are not the worst villains we've had to deal with, quite the contrary. You don't do anything for fun. You don't hurt citizens, and you only tackle the heroes when you really have no other choice."

You know all this. You know the boys and you are not the worst. You do what you can to survive. The proof, what villain would open a bookstore for the love of books, and what villains would "adopt" a child without a family because they can't stand the idea of him being alone as they have been for too long. "Lucas has not done anything wrong. When a hero can't control their powers and hurts a citizen, we don't lock them up for the rest of their life! So why him? He never did anything bad in his life!"

Kun hears the emotion in your voice when you speak, you are really affected by Lucas' situation, and he understands, really. "I had no choice. It's the rules, Y/n." you laugh coldly, closing your eyes to keep the tears from running down your cheeks. "Your rules are stupid." you both remain silent for a little while, but your attention is suddenly drawn to the window when you hear an explosion. "So what are you going to do?" you ask with a sigh. You are tired of this situation.

"If you want to stop me, do it now, because the others are going to be here very soon, and really, you don't want to compete with them." Kun takes the last step between you, and he puts his cold hands on your cheeks. You do not move, because you know he will never hurt you. You've seen it in his eyes so many times over the past few days. He won't do anything to you, except if he has no choice. Being a hero means putting aside your human side to be able to make the best decisions, and the hero will have to fight against the villain.

"If you get Lucas back, whare are you going to do?" he asks, and you are surprised at his question, so you shrug. "We don't want anything other than to give him the house he hasn't had since he got locked up, Kun. We are not going to go out in the streets to make the heroes pay for the time we lost with him. Like you said, we are not like other villains. I just want to be reunited with my family." you whisper.

Your family, yes, that's what they are. A found family is sometimes much better than the biological one. Blood is thicker than water, it is true, but sometimes a found family is so much more. "And me?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper. "Did you never feel anything for me, or were you just looking to see me weak to take advantage of it?" that's the question you unfortunately do not have an answer for. Feelings are not something you like to dwell on. Love attracts nothing good.

"What would that change? You won't let me go anyway." you respond, and Kun leans in to kiss you. And you are weak, so you respond to the kiss. But rather than delve deeper into it as Kun so desires, you close your eyes, focus, and let the shadows do what you can't do on your own. They pull Kun back, preventing him from moving. He is immobilized by invisible forces. You take the keys that have fallen on the floor, and before leaving the office, you give him one last look. "In another life we could have been happy."

The hero doesn't even try to struggle, he lets the shadows hold him in place, and all he can do is watch you go without a word. His heart is breaking, of course, but it's all his fault. He knew what you wanted, and yet, he let you get under his skin, he let you make him weak.

On your way to the underground cells, you pull out your phone, and the relief you feel when you see Taeyong's message telling you that Renjun is home, and that he is fine, the boys are fine is so strong that you could cry. Before losing the already weak signal, you send a message to Taeyong.

To Taeyong: Take the car, and be in front of Pyro's agency in 5 minutes. Don't ask question, and be ready to go.

If he answers, you don't know, since your phone stops working, possibly due to the technology used to keep the villains and their powers at bay. Lucas is not the only one here, all the cells are occupied by villains who seem to be asleep, or drugged, you do not know. "Lucas?" you ask, but get no answer. Good god, who would've thought the underground prison would be that big.

The prison does not only belong to Pyro, but to all the hero agencies in town. They all have access, so while Kun doesn't try to stop you, it's not a given, who knows if a hero is not going to descend on the other side of town at any time. It takes you a couple of minutes to find him. "Lucas." you sigh.

The boy doesn't react immediately, but when you approach, his eyes lift up to you. At first he is not sure what he is seeing, he thinks he is dealing with yet another mirage. "Lucas, we are leaving." he frowns and gets up on shaky legs, and walks over to the bars. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" his voice is so weak, your heart breaks a little. "I'm taking you home." he tries to smile, but you see that he is too tired to do so, but you know he is grateful to see you.

Opening the cell is another story.

You are not familiar with the tech they use, but if the villains are kept in a constant state of fatigue, it doesn't have to be that complicated, right? A computer and several monitors are close to the door that leads to the agency. Cameras that monitor all the cells and buttons. So many buttons. "Fuck." it may take some time.

"The green button." you turn when you hear a voice. That of a villain. "What?" you are not stupid, you are not going to be fooled by a villain. "If you want to open your friend's cell, you have to press the green button closest to his cell's camera." he explains, and you frown. "Why are you helping me?" you ask, and the villain shrugs in defeat. "He is young. He does not deserve what awaits him in prison." you agree completely.

The thing is, villains are vicious, who says that by pushing the button you won't open all the cells and release the villains in town? You want your friend, not to create chaos in the city. But you have no choice, if you call the shadows to bring Kun back here, he will certainly change his mind and prevent you from doing what you want to do. So you find the screen leading to Lucas' cell, and you press the button.

At first, nothing happens, but after a few seconds, a metallic noise is heard and Lucas's cell opens. "Oh fuck, thank you!" you run toward the boy who seems reluctant to come out, as if expecting to be attacked, or laughed at at his idiocy before being locked up again. "Come on, Taeyong is already waiting for us outside." at the mention of the leader, his eyes brighten and you help him walk. Lucas is tall, like really tall, so it's hard to keep him from falling, especially in the stairs, but you get there.

"Wait." you whisper as you lean him against the wall so he can hold himself up while you lock the door to the cells. The freezing cold of the underground has seeped into your skin, and you begin to shake, so much that an easy task becomes difficult. "Come on." you mumble, but Lucas puts his hand on yours. "Let me do it." and he does.

"Let's go home." you put Lucas's arm around your shoulders, and you walk toward the door of the agency, but first, you stop by the office. Kun is still there, held by the shadows. When he hears the footsteps, he looks up at you, and.. and he smiles sadly. "Be happy." that's all he says before you force the shadow to release him. When the shadow disappear, you also disappear.

He will soon hear the sound of an engine, and that of a car racing away. And he will be alone. Alone with his broken heart, a bunch of villains to calm down on the streets, and a lot of explainations to give. Love brings nothing good, you were right about that.

In another life, you both think.

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