#(but she could make it easier for others by not immediately snapping to judgment and/or oversharing)

[monstermoviedean]

actual conversation in a meeting today:

(in response to someone complimenting the art behind my desk) me: thanks my mom got it for me! ☺️

complimenter: aw moms are the best

me: haha yeah!

coworker i complain about all the time: speaking of, my mother isn't the best so i have to leave this meeting early to go to a therapy appointment

(i'm only barely paraphrasing this)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Mystery of love

Previously / next chapter

a/n I was not gonna write anymore of this but some of you wanted to read more and fuck do I miss them myself. I will probably go and make a proper series masterlist so it would be easier to navigate through the chapters. Happy reading!🫧

summary: when two lost souls meet at their mutual friend’s party sparks fly, the question is if whatever they feel can actually bloom into something more? But that’s the mystery of love.

warning: toxic ex, arguments

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was one of your college friends' engagement party. As a good friend you were supposed to celebrate her but all you could think of was Noah. The boy with tattoos had managed to slot into your consciousness, taking up a daily spot there. You had stayed up for quite a couple of nights thinking about that almost kiss. About the fact that you had wanted it to happen. Had felt disappointed that it didn’t.

It scrambled with your brain. You had tried to avoid Noah as much as you could but he was relentless. Every day at six sharp he would be parked outside the bookstore waiting for you. “Go away Noah, there’s an Uber on its way to pick me up”, you grunted, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. “Yes, ma’am that would be me”, he saluted from his car, waving you over. “Don’t you have a job? Anything else to do?”, rolling your eyes you stepped closer. “Oh, I do, one of them is a part-time driver”, he smirked leaning over to open the car door for you.

You always gave in. Blaming his sad and tired eyes. Fearing that your no or a firmer push would send him tumbling down a hill. At least that’s what you told yourself. You weren’t ready to admit that you felt better yourself with him. It all felt better when Noah was around. And while you craved that safety blanket he provided without realizing it, your brain screamed at you for wanting to depend on his comfort.

“Sooo, how are things?”, Emmy pushed a drink over the bar your way, snapping you out of your train of thought. “Things?”, you asked, frowning. She gave you one of those looks before rolling her eyes, “Oh stop it, YN, you can’t fool me, girlie”. Her and Matt. Cause if she wasn’t there to see you and Noah, then Matt happily did a daily report for her. “Are you still going on a trip with Matt?”, you asked, changing the subject. It was a cheap move, but you didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it made it real. “You’re changing the subject”, Emmy chirped, “that means I’m right”, she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

You scowled at her, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Fine”, you lifted your hands in surrender, “We hung out a couple of times”. You hoped that would cut it but she just looked at you waiting. “And”, she motioned for you to continue. “And nothing, that’s it”, you shrugged. But it wasn’t nothing and deep down you knew it. It had been weird ever since the near kiss you two shared. You had made a big deal out of it. Not to mention that meeting your ex was also the cherry on top. Ex who no doubt had googled who Noah was from the relentless amount of messages he had sent. The times he had come over knocking.

“He’s a sweet guy. I would say pretty distant but he’s a good guy”, Emmy mussed, “We don’t know each other that well, I don’t want to impose but he’s been nothing but kind to me”, she swirled her drink looking at you. “Your judgment is much appreciated”, you tapped her hand in fake appreciation making her push you back slightly as she grunted. A light smile slipped onto your face. Falling immediately when your eyes caught a glimpse of the upper stage. As cold sweat chilled your body. “What’s wrong”, Emmy asked turning back. “Like a fucking rock at the bottom of my shoe”, you grumbled l, turning away in hopes that luck was on your side this time. “I’ll claw his face out”, your best friend pushed the bar stool back, ready to charge over but you clasped her upper arm, “Em, don’t you fucking get close to him, he’s unstable”.

More often than not Noah found himself thinking about the little things you two had done together. It played in a loop in his mind. At night when he couldn’t sleep he would go back, trying to ground himself in the moments he spent with you. Even now, he was supposed to listen to Jolly, which had proven to be harder lately. They were trying to put the cancellation dates in motion. But he had zoned out completely. Feeling the bone-rattling tiredness wash over him.

Dragging himself back to the little coffee not date you two had the other week. “Soo, this place make all the syrups at the house”, you had been referring to a family-owned coffee shop downtown for some time now. The destination was not comfortably reachable after work. Meaning that it would be more of a burden and time waste to go there in rush hours. So you rarely went there. But now Noah was glad that he had chosen to sit in traffic for an hour. The look on your face made it worth it.

You had practically jumped out of the car, reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers through Noah’s and while you didn’t seem to notice, Noah felt as if his whole body was on fire. It felt so right that he could sit down and cry. So he only gripped your hand tighter. “What do you want?”, you looked up at the menu, eyes scanning all the possibilities. But Noah was looking at you, “You pick”, he muttered. “No, Noah…”, you grunted, glancing at him, “Pick, I don’t know what you like, maybe you have allergies or some shit”. But he simply shrugged, before muttering a quick, “I trust you”.

You grunted, shaking your head before smiling at the lady waiting to take your order, “Hey, can I do one cold brew with wiped creme brûlée foam on top and one with your brown sugar almond glaze. Plant-based milk for both. That would be all thank you”, you smiled at her, turning to reach for your purse only to find Noah already paying. “Noah”, you grunted, “That’s…”, but he just chuckled pressing his lips to your temple.

“Okay, tell me what you think”, you two had found a nice table outside, the autumn sun warming your cheeks. Your legs were draped over his thighs, his fingers drawing shapes on your legs as you handed him one drink after the other.

“This one is nice”, Noah tapped at the cup in your hands, “Creme brûlée?”, you raised your eyebrows, taking a sip yourself. “it’s really good, I like them both though”, he hummed in approval. The funny thing was that he couldn’t give two shits for coffee but it seemed like whatever you liked he couldn’t help but enjoy as well. “Well now you know a nice spot for drinks”, you smiled at him, tilting your face towards the sun.

“I’ll know where to get you coffee from”, he corrected you, chuckling when you threw him a death glare he had already learned to love. “Absolutely not”, you protected. “Absolutely yes”, Noah nodded, biting his lip as he watched you. “Noah”, you grunted in warning but he simply shrugged, “I like it when you say my name”, you gasped, pushing his shoulder slightly, “Oh fuck off, you flirt”.

He was smiling to himself when his phone buzzed. Out of second nature, he turned his screen over. Only to tap his screen twice again.

Y/n 🤍: You’re busy?

Y/n 🤍: Sorry, hey

Y/n 🤍: Are you busy?

Noah: Everything’s okay?

He typed out, moving to sit up immediately. A frown creeping onto his face. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his guts.

Y/n 🤍: Can you ask Matt to check his phone.

“Matt”, Noah called out immediately, “Check your phone, dude”. He was up and walking towards the soundproofed booth. Fingers moving over the keyboard.

Noah: What’s going on Yn?

He watched the little three dots pending before disappearing. “Fuck”, Matt grunted, pulling his headset off. “What’s going on?”, Noah leaned against the door, watching his friend scrambling for his things. Matt halted for a moment as if calculating his next words. They never left a meeting unless something absolutely important happened. If Matt was up and ready to go that meant that Noah’s gut feeling was right.

“Yn ex is at the bar they are in”, nine words were enough to make Noah’s brain both shut down and restart again. He turned himself, reaching for his stuff before turning back, “I’m going with you”. “Noah”, Matt shook his head in disapproval. “I’ve met the dick already, let’s go”, Noah motioned for Matt to go to the doors. “Do you maybe want to enlighten us too?”, Jolly called out, arms crossed over his chest. “Man this is some serious shit”, Matt shook his head. This all could get real messy, Noah was more than aware of it. “We’ll talk about it, give me time”, Noah promised before, walking out the studio door.

“I’m not going anywhere with you”, you pulled at Dan’s hand firmly. Trying to get away from him after having to take the heated conversation outside. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene. “Stop fucking fighting”, he gripped tightly, pulling your arm further up, making you wince in pain. “Let go you asshole”, Emmy huffed, throwing her heel at him. Hitting him square in his head. You would have laughed honestly if it wasn’t the fact that his grip only got firmer.

“Back off bitch”, he snarled at Emmy, stepping forward to spook her. “Em”, a voice sounded behind you, you watched as Emmy nearly sagged in relief against the damp brick wall, “Matty”, she called out and even your body washed over with relief. One that was short-lived as Dan’s hand wrapped around your middle pushing you forward, “Come here”, he mused against your ear making your body shiver in disgust.

“Man let her go or I won’t be responsible for my next move”, you felt like crying in that moment when realization finally hit you. Matt didn’t come alone. “Noah…”, you whispered, turning your head to see his angry face. You weren’t sure if you felt happy or embarrassed then. You didn’t want him to see this. Didn’t want him to know about your past poor choices.

“We got back together man, so mind your business”, Dan cupped the side of your face, pressing his lips to your cheek. Your palm found his face then pushed him further back, as you grunted, “We did not”. “Let go or I will break your hand”, Noah stepped closer, he was way taller than Dan. Quite frankly all Dan had was a fancy suit and sparkly watch to hide behind. “Security is on its way Daniel”, Matt called out, Emmy standing behind his back, one of his hands making sure she stayed exactly there, “Your choice man. Walk away or ride in the back of a police car”.

Dan watched you all for a moment. And if not for the back doors creaking you knew that he wouldn’t have let go. “Fuck you”, he spat towards Matt, pushing you forward as he flipped you all off. “Not my first time with you, dick”, Matt threw back at him. Noah’s arms reached for you instantly but you caught his wrist, keeping his body away from yours. “I want to get out of here”, you muttered. “That’s what we will do”, Noah promised, trying to look you over. “I’ve got her”, Emmy muttered, wrapping her arm around your shoulders, and throwing Noah an apologetic look. He wanted to be the one to comfort you but he knew that there was a limit to how far you were willing to let him in and Noah had a feeling that two run-ins with your ex had maxed it out.

He watched you through the rearview mirror the whole way back to their house. Watch that cold mask of indifference slowly replace the genuine fear he had seen moments ago. So he wasn’t all that surprised when you had thrown Emmy a smile after stepping out of the car. “Come on, we’re sharing a room”, Emmy tugged at your hand but you instantly pulled back. “I’m going home, Em’s, you all go inside”, you muttered, squeezing your friend's hand. “Yn, they don’t mind. Tell her Matt”, she turned her pleading eyes on her boyfriend. “I said it more than once, YN, our place is your place”, Matt hummed in approval. Making Noah frown slightly. He had a feeling that Matt knew more. Had been involved in all of this somehow. The question was how deep it ran. “I appreciate it but I rather go home”, you smiled politely. “I’ll drive you back”, Noah cut in, “I was gonna pop into the city anyway”.

You wanted to protest but Emmy cut you off, “At least drive with Noah, I would be much calmer knowing that he dropped you off”, so you simply nodded. Not having enough energy to fight anyone on anything. “You don’t have plans in the city do you”, you asked glancing out of the window once Noah had started his car. “I don’t”, he admitted. You simply nodded at his answer, wrapping your arms around yourself.

And it had been fine. You had managed to keep it wrapped up till he offered to walk you up the stairs. Waiting for you to unlock your door as he leaned against the side wall. Your hand halted as you pushed the key through. It was one look at him. The look of concern in his eyes. It was the silence he left between you too. Not pushing to fill it in. Leaving it there as an option for you. A chance to speak up if you wanted to.

Your shoulders quivered as you clasped your hand over your mouth, trying to silence the sob that slipped past your lips. Noah pushed back from the wall instantly. Offering his hand but not pushing his embrace upon you. Giving you a chance to choose this. Choose him.

You turned to him. Arms reaching for his neck as you pushed your body against his. Feeling a tremble run through your chest. “I’m here”, Noah muttered, “Let it out”. His hands moved up and down your back, as he soothed you. “I’m so scared”, you crocked out, “He…”, you shook your head. Eyes burning from tears. “He’s a dead man walking”, Noah cupped your face, “He will not get to you, I won’t let him”, he nodded and you followed his action. “Stay”, you pleaded, holding onto his upper arms as you pressed your face against his chest. “I wasn’t going anywhere, love, might have napped outside your door if you hadn’t invited me in”, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, “Let’s get you inside. Marsh is probably demanding to be fed anyway”, taking the keys out of your hands Noah, unlocked them, pulling the door open before ushering you inside.

•••••••••••••

@broken0mens @supersquirrel1996

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader : When She Smiles

Summary: Seasons change, your feelings never will.

Warnings: Language

Covers the “Carving Pumpkins” square for fall bingo.

Word Count: 1,183

* * * * * *

Biting your lip in concentration, your eyes narrow slightly as your hand wields the small knife in your hand.

Your sight had to be failing you because you were not cutting these shapes properly. Or maybe your hands weren’t as good as you thought they were. Either way the image in your head was not coming to fruition like you hoped it would.

“All done!”

Your gaze snaps up from your task to the source of the voice.

Standing across from you, Wanda smiles brightly. The red wisps of her powers dissipate as she drops her carving knife onto the counter before she turns the pumpkin around.

“Wha-” your jaw drops, shoulders sagging as you frown.“ That’s totally cheating! You can’t use your powers.”

Her hands settle on her hips.“ Why not? It’s the same as using my hands.” She reasons, her eyebrow cocked challengingly.

You stumble, mouth opening and closing as you search for something to say. You know how her powers work and quite frankly you can’t argue her statement. Her powers are like extra sets of hands, doing as her mind instructed it to do.

“That’s not fair. Mine sucks.”

Defeatedly you turn your pumpkin around. A snort instantly falls from Wanda’s lips as her green eyes scan over the extremely bad carving you made in the pumpkin.

“It’s-” she covers her mouth to hide the smile on her lips, then rounds the counter to stand beside you.“ It’s not that bad.” She manages to say.

You purse your lips, reaching down, you turn your pumpkin back around.

When Wanda looks at it again she bursts into laughter. Her hands wrap around your arms and she rests her forehead on your shoulder as she laughs.

The sound of her laugh warms your heart. You know it’s genuine and it makes you incredibly happy that you’re the cause of it.

Having been together for a year and half, you’d seen Wanda in a number of different emotional states. Seeing her carefree is by far you’re favorite.

Happiness for the two of you came and went in the past but it seemed to finally stick when you started dating. That’s not to say tough times didn’t come, they were just a lot easier to cope with with the woman you love by your side.

She speaks again, pulling you from your reverie.“ It’s definitely scary.” She giggles and you scoff, playfully shrugging her off.

“Well I don’t have special powers that make badass pumpkin designs.” You huff, dropping the carving knife down onto the counter.

Wanda grabs your hand, pulling you closer as she pushes up on her toes to press a kiss to your cheek.“ I think it looks good.”

You give her a suspicious look,“ you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“That’s only part of the reason.” This time you smile and Wanda does as well, her hand squeezing yours.

“What’s the other part?” You ask.

Reaching over, she grabs your other hand and tugs gently so you turn to face her completely.“ That is because you’ve put so much effort into. . . all this.” She looks around, eyes flickering over the Halloween decorations: window stickers of ghosts, spiders, zombies and the like, orange string lights, fake spider webs, etc.

“You said you’ve never celebrated,” you start to explain your reason for going all out this year.“ I wanted you to experience it the way I used to when I was a kid.”

Wanda nods, squeezing your hands,“ I know and I love you for it. It means a lot to me that you’d go to this much effort for me.” Her smile comes back, replacing the serious expression on her face.

Dropping her hand, you raise it to her cheek,“ I’d do anything to see that smile.” You tell her, gently caressing her cheek with your thumb.

A brief silence passes as her eyes search yours, another second before she’s leaning up and pressing her lips to yours. The way you instantly melt into the kiss, pulling her body closer to yours with a hand on her hip causes another smile to tug onto her face.

It’s a sweet kiss, only complimented by her soft touch on your hand and face. It’s the kind of kiss that’s reminiscent of your previous ones but also one that stands out from them.

You’ll remember this very moment for the rest of your life and while you can’t begin to understand why, you’re completely okay with it. Especially if she’d be by your side for just as long, sharing the same memory.

Finally you part, a soft quiet smack signifying the end of the kiss and filling the silence that neither of you can find the words to do so instead.

Your moment doesn’t end abruptly, it slowly dissipates. A hand slowly falls from both of your faces and your eyes open slowly, the love and serenity remains.

With a gentle squeeze to her hand you take a small step back.“ It’s a good thing my pumpkin sucks anyway, just means all the attention is going to yours. In fact,” you let her hand go and pick her pumpkin up,“ I’m gonna put it outside right now. Show it off to the neighbors.”

As you walk away Wanda smiles at the proud look on your face and your even prouder exclamation of, “my girlfriend’s pumpkin is the best one on the block.”

Stepping over to the sink, her eyes look out the window.

Leaves continue to fall, all different hues of red, leaving the trees bare and the ground covered in them. She could see the lights and decorations the neighbors had put up. All of which set the tone for the season and coming holiday.

Then her eyes landed on you. A giggle immediately erupting from her at the sight of your fists pressed to your hips, a confident pose struck before you turn and point to the porch, Wanda following your finger to see that you were showing off her pumpkin.

She shakes her head, a perfectly happy smile on her face. It seemed to permanently be there whenever you were involved.

Admittedly it’s incredible to her, the way you so easily pulled that euphoric feeling from her. She’s lived an incredibly tough life, a lot of loss as well as being on the receiving end of ignorant judgment. With you it was never that.

While some looked at her in fear you held nothing but amazement and adoration in your eyes.

At times she questioned it, whether she made you as happy as you made her. But then you smile like you’re doing now.

Sliding around the corner beaming, you start telling her about your conversation with your neighbor. An extra bit of excitement hits your tone when you mention how he sounded jealous.

“I love you.” She says, voice dripping every bit of sincerity she had.

You stop short, still smiling, then saying,“ I love you too Wan.”

“Thank you.” With a curious tilt of your head you ask why she’s thanking you.“ For making me smile.”

* * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik @b-5by5 @fayhar @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout​ @storiesofsvu​ @ecruzsalaz

[ddarker-dreams]

A concept from a dream I had: Hisoka wants Chrollo's darling for himself and tries to steal her from him. Darling gets injured in the ensuing fight and has to get patched up afterwards by Machi. Then, a bit of fluff, darling seeks out Chrollo and hugs him for comfort because the whole thing has her a bit shaken. (Love your writing btw, it's super well written and captivating!)

Tunnel Vision. Yan Chrollo x Reader

Warnings: Implied amnesia.  Word count: 2.2k. Note: thank you very much!! i made some minor changes, where darling is a member of the phantom troupe, and not yet aware of chrollo’s obsession. i hope you enjoy! i’ve had a lot of ideas for this specific darling with nen abilities and this idea seemed to fit her very well...

Sharp, pointed nails digging into your skin. The sickeningly sweet fragrance of bubblegum blended with metallic blood. Black dots obscuring your vision, the world growing further away with each miserable second. Through labored breathing, a tense dialogue is exchanged between both parties, the ringing from your ears making it impossible to know for sure what they’re saying. Falling in and out of consciousness, you pick up on a few phrases. 

“Just admit it, you’re no worse than I am. Look what you did to the poor girl. ♥” 

“Maybe so, but that’s inconsequential. Your judgment means nothing.” 

...

“Ah… what… a shame, that I didn’t... get to play with her as much as you did--” 

“Hmm… to think your voice has never bothered me this much until now. This should silence you permanently.”

“--So you shouldn’t move around much until it fully heals,” Machi instructs, her voice clear and direct. At your lack of immediate response, she frowns, snapping her fingers to pull you from your trance-like state. “Oi, [First]. Are you even listening?” 

You blink, her voice cutting through your clouded mind like a knife. “My bad, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Machi sighs and places a hand on her hip. Sapphire eyes glance over your person, not even bothering to hide her intentions, stopping every time she reaches your healed wounds. Even though your inebriated state, you can tell she’s deep in thought. You doubt she’d tell you what’s on her mind if you asked. So you sit there in silence, politely waiting for her to repeat what you missed. 

“I could tell. Just take it easy, you’re going to need a few days of rest.” Machi walks to her bag, rustling through its contents. She picks up a bottle of pills and places it on your nightstand. The same medicine that she had given you before treatment, to dull the pain. You fight back the urge to smile at the small gesture. Had you been any other customer of Machi’s, she would’ve left by now without a word, indifferent to your condition. Despite your best efforts, she catches onto your softened expression and clicks her tongue.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she deadpans, shooting you a glare. You give an apologetic smile. “Take one a day until it’s gone.”

“Thank you, Machi. I appreciate it.” 

“As you should,” Machi throws her bag over her shoulder and goes to the door. Before she can turn the nob, she turns back at you. “I forgot to mention, but you have a visitor. The boss has been waiting here since he brought you in.” 

An unknown emotion stirs in the depths of your soul. Any playful retaliation you had for Machi’s previous comment dies on your tongue, your eyebrows furrowing. Why do you feel troubled by this revelation? You fight back the anxiety that bubbles up in your stomach. There’s no time to linger on this newfound unease, as Chrollo enters the room after exchanging pleasantries with Machi. Despite your efforts to suppress your discomfort, your body does as it pleases, heart palpitating and throat feeling tight.

He shuts the door behind him quietly and leans against the wall.

Chrollo Lucilfer. You consider your relationship to be a strictly professional one -- maybe a touch of reverence on your behalf -- never feeling as friendly with him as with the other members. He stands before you now in casual attire. Jet black hair frames his face, loose and fine, proudly showcasing the unusual tattoo on his forehead. It’s strange to see him without his trademark leather coat. Instead, he wears jeans and a navy blue undershirt. Immediately, you pick up on the bloodstains on his shirt, assuming he had shed his coat before coming in.

He smiles at your staring, not commenting as you glance away. “How are you feeling?” 

“The medicine hasn’t worn off, so not too bad,” you struggle to exhale, your breathing ragged. Why does it feel so warm in here all of a sudden? “Machi told me you, uh, carried me here. Thank you. I’m sorry about your shirt… I’ll buy you a replacement.” 

Chrollo puts a hand up to stop you. “There’s no need.” 

Being one on one with your mysterious boss is as awkward as you imagined it would be. You still don’t know why he’s here. In between jobs, Chrollo would disappear into thin air, untraceable until calling the Troupe back together. So him being the one to find you on the verge of death hasn’t made sense. Machi gave noncommittal answers whenever you brought this up or told you to ask him yourself. Which you intended to at the time, but now that you’re in his intimidating presence, the words die on your tongue before they can begin. 

He pushes himself off the wall and sits on the edge of your bed. The proximity feels strangely intimate, your face flushing at how familiar the act seems to him. Chrollo’s close enough now where you can pick up on his rich cologne. Dry wood with hints of leather. The scent increases your heart rate, anxiety at a new peak. You bite your lip and ball your hands into a fist to try and cope with the all-encompassing unease. To appear weak in front of him would be an insult to your tattered pride. 

“Machi informed me about your memory,” Chrollo leans forward as if to inspect you. Grey eyes bore deep into your soul, searching for something. “She said you thought it was July when you regained consciousness.” 

You swallow thickly at his questioning. How humiliating is this? Whatever it was that had happened to injure you already felt degrading enough. your pride as a competent Nen user in shambles. The most plausible explanation is that Chrollo discovered you after you had lost a fight, but the remaining details are fuzzy at best. Theorizing is all you can do. The unexplained amnesia is frustrating, but it’s only a few months, so you figure it could’ve been worse. 

“That’s correct.”

Chrollo closes his eyes, as if in deep reflection. “So that’s how it is. I’m sorry to disturb you while you’re trying to recover, but can I ask a few questions?” 

“Ah, of course. I’m sorry if I’m forgetting something important…” 

This catches his attention, his posture tensing ever so slightly. You notice how his jaw tightens and assume your guess was correct. Your desire for answers on these missing four months strengthens and you feel hopeful that Chrollo holds some of the answers. It’s frustrating how both Machi and Chrollo seem to know more than you do but are refusing to give solid answers. Maybe they’re being considerate of your health? You’re not so fragile that you need to be coddled by your fellow Troupe members. 

Chrollo looks down at you through thick eyelashes. “Do you think that you are?” 

“I… I think so, yes.” 

He sits silently for a moment, running a hand through his hair and giving a bittersweet smile. “We’re in a relationship.” 

Wait, what? This would explain why Chrollo was with you at a time when the Troupe wasn’t gathered and his casual demeanor. Your expression must not be as schooled as you intended, as he gives a humorless chuckle to your wide eyes and parted lips.  You… were in a relationship with The Phantom Troupe’s boss? Your boss? When did that happen? How did that happen? Did the others know? Ah, the teasing that would come with that. It’s not that you don’t find him attractive, your eyes work just fine, but the revelation still takes you back. Cheeks burning, you break eye contact and play with your hair. Feeling overwhelmingly self-conscious, you pull your blanket up further to cover your bare shoulders. 

“There’s no need to be so embarrassed, [First],” Chrollo chastises with a playful tilt of his head. “I’ve seen all of it many times before.” 

He’s not making this easier on you. You’re desperate to move on from the subject and decide to bring up another troublesome topic. Though you have an idea of what the answer will be, you’d still prefer that he’d confirm it for peace of mind. 

“I was wondering, boss--” you cut yourself off with an apologetic smile when he furrows his eyebrows, “--I mean, Chrollo, about my Hatsu. I can tell I don’t have it now. Are you ‘borrowing’ it?” 

There’s no other plausible explanation. In what other scenarios would you lose a fight that horrendously? You can’t picture anything else, your abilities have been enough to earn you Chrollo’s recognition and subsequent invitation to the Troupe years ago. It’s not uncommon that your boss will ask to borrow other Troupe member’s abilities. Sometime during the months that you’ve forgotten, this must’ve happened, or so you assume. 

Chrollo nods his head. “I am, yes. Why do you ask? Would you like it back?” 

“It does feel like a part of me is missing,” you admit sheepishly, scratching your cheek. “So, if it isn’t too much trouble…” 

“I had to delay the job I borrowed it for due to what happened to you. Is it alright if I hold onto it for just a bit longer?” He’s moving even closer to you now than before. The bed shifts underneath his weight, Chrollo delicately taking your face into his hands. Your mind has trouble scrounging together a comprehensible response. How can you focus when the pads of his thumbs rub soothing circles against your cheek, his deep eyes hypnotizing. You swallow thickly when his pointer finger drags slowly against your bottom lip. Chrollo told you that you’re together, you remind yourself, assuming he has just missed touching you. It’s impossible to not notice the hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Oh, well, in that case, it’s fine.” You only manage to relax when he pulls away from you, content with your response. This has been a draining series of events. Chrollo’s one-sided familiarity isn’t easy to keep up with, you still view him as your boss and he views you as a lover. Sensing your apprehension, he takes your hand in his and places it over your pounding heart. 

“Do you feel this?” He hums, to which you nod, speechless at the bold action. “Even if you don’t remember your love for me, your body hasn’t forgotten a thing from our time together.” 

Is that what this feeling is? Love? You want to trust him, to take his word for it, but something still doesn’t feel right. Chrollo’s presence has kept you on edge ever since he entered your room. Even now, your skin is covered in goosebumps, hair standing on the back of your neck. What else are you forgetting? This is the question that reverberates in your mind, threatening to consume you entirely. Softly, as not to offend him, you take his hand off you. Chrollo’s expression is unreadable as you do so.

“I’m sorry, Chrollo, I’m just not sure I’m ready for... this yet.” You admit in truth, guilt washing over you at how his flirtatious demeanor changes to a calculating one. This is the version of Chrollo that you’re most familiar with. Your mysterious boss, who coldly issues orders and relishes in thrill of thievery, someone not as personal as he’s been acting like. Chrollo moves back and you’re grateful for the room to gather your bearings.

“Of course,” his aloof tone sends shivers down your spine, a distant gleam in his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have every intention of watching over you until you recover. It wouldn’t sit well with me otherwise.” 

Chrollo motions to your closet door, which is slightly ajar. Inside you recognize some of his clothes that are hanging next to yours. “And I do live here, but I’ll sleep on the couch for tonight. How does that sound?” 

So the two of you were so close that you had invited him to move in? How fast was this relationship going, anyway? It doesn’t feel like you to get that intimate with someone else in such a short time. The way Chrollo phrased it makes it sound like you used to sleep in the same bed too, how embarrassing… God, his comments are going to be the end of you. You need time to think. To let all this information that’s been thrust onto you sink in. 

“If it’s not too much for an inconvenience. I feel awful… about forgetting as much as I have. Machi said she didn’t see any notable head injuries, so I can only assume it was a Nen ability.” 

“That could be it,” Chrollo responds more flippantly than you expected, standing from your bed. You thought he’d be eager to explore the avenues of returning your memory. Maybe it’s too painful to think about? “You haven’t eaten since this morning, so I’ll get us some dinner. Keep resting up.” 

“Thank you. I’m sorry for all this trouble.” 

Chrollo waves away your apology without concern. He does, however, acknowledge you before leaving your shared bedroom. There’s a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You hope you’re imagining it. 

“By the way, [First]... I want you to know this. I’ll have you fall in love with me again. That’s a promise.” 

Then he’s gone without another word.

[sunkissedpages]

idk if you're taking requests but I would die to have a tom x bi!fem!reader I guess I never read one. like something with her ex girlfriend calling and him getting jealous. treating this as a normal thing CAUSE IT SHOULD BE A NORMAL THING. sorry my bi-self its kinda angry today lol. BTW you're writing its just... omg so good, you're freaking talented girl!

you had me at bi!reader lol also yes i named the ex after jade from victorious don’t @ me  

i’m also tempted to make a nsfw version of this but...

warnings: swearing, drug mention

You sighed when the music you had been playing in Tom’s car cut off suddenly and reached up to reject the incoming call, but froze when you saw “j (don’t answer!!!)” pop up as the Caller ID. Your thumb hovered over the End Call button, hesitating for a second too long before finally tapping it and swiping away the notification. You held your breath as the music came back on, hoping your boyfriend hadn’t noticed your reaction. But he knew you better than you knew yourself and picked up on your nerves instantly. 

“Who was that?”

You cursed under your breath and sunk further into your seat. “Oh, uh, just... Jade.”

A spark of recognition lit up behind his warm, brown eyes and he pursed his lips. “Jade? Your ex-girlfriend?”

“That’s the one,” you confirmed, nodding. 

“Why is she calling you?”

You shrugged and tried to play it off. “I don’t know.”

To be fair, you didn’t know why she was calling, but you knew it had to be important if she was reaching out at all. Your relationship hadn’t ended on the best of terms all those months ago, and there was still the dull ache of what was associated with her name. You didn’t want to talk to her. And you really didn’t want Tom to watch you talk to her.

“Should you... call her back?” he asked.

“No,” you answered a little too quickly, averting your eyes from your boyfriend’s gaze. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You were about to reply when the Incoming Call notification popped up on the Audi’s touchscreen display again. You muttered fuck under your breath and pressed the answer button against your better judgment, worried that she might be in some sort of trouble.

“Hello?”

“Hey, y/n,” her voice echoed through the speakers softly and you had to force yourself to take a breath before responding so your voice wouldn’t shake.

“Uh, Jade. Um, is everything okay?”

You glanced over at Tom who was focused on the road. He appeared to be as calm and composed as ever, but his grip on the steering wheel gave his true feelings away. His knuckles were turning white around the dark leather and the seams were pressing into his skin. You reached out and put a hand on his thigh in an attempt to calm both his and your own nerves. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Jade said after a moment, clearing her throat awkwardly. “Actually, no it’s not.”

“Oh, what’s up?”

“Do you remember our shitty landlord back at Monty’s?” she asked.

“How could I forget?” you laughed bitterly, even though it was all you wanted to do. “That asshole tried to make us pay double rent like six different times, claiming we hadn’t already paid it.”

“He was also homophobic as hell,” Jade added. 

“And creepy.”

Jade laughed and those old, fluttery feelings in the pit of your stomach threatened to surface again. It was the effect she always had on you and apparently still did, at least in some capacity. Guilt began to set in when you felt yourself smile listening to her laugh and you retracted your hand from Tom’s leg. 

“But why do you ask?”

“Oh, right. He’s being a dick about the faucet in our- my bathroom. It’s leaking and he won’t fix it because he says it’s my fault that it’s broken in the first place.”

You hadn’t realized Jade still lived in that old apartment you used to share. Maybe you should have guessed, since you had been the one to move out when things ended, but it had been so long ago that you had just assumed she was living somewhere else now. You wondered if she had taken other people home there, if there was someone different sleeping in your spot on the bed every night, cooking for her like you used to-

“Anyway,” she went on, snapping you out of it, “it’s bullshit. It’s leaking because it’s old, not because I did anything to it. But he always listened to you because you were better at sweet-talking him. I’m... too bitchy, I guess. I know it’s a lot to ask after everything that happened between us, but I was wondering if you could maybe... give him a call? And ask him to fix it?”

Tom looked over at you with eyebrows raised expectantly, him and Jade both waiting for your answer. 

“Yeah, I can give him a call,” you sighed reluctantly. “But if he says no, I’m not asking again.”

“Oh my god thank you, y/n,” she gushed. “You’re the best! I-I wouldn’t have called, but the leak has already damaged part of the floor and he’s dodging me-”

“You don’t have to explain it all. I’ll call him, okay?”

“Okay, okay. Thank you so much. You’re a fucking lifesaver.” 

“Don’t mention it,” you said, “I’ll uh, I’ll text you to let you know what he says.”

“Sounds good!” she chirped. “Hey, if everything goes well you should let me smoke you out as a thank you.”

“Oh,” you paused, glancing back at Tom who wasn’t even hiding his scowl now. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Well the offer’s open if you ever want to take me up on it. Ya know, for old time’s sake.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you promised.

“Okay,” she said with a sigh, “I’ll let you go now... it was nice hearing from you again.”

“Yeah, likewise,” you lied through gritted teeth and hung up, finally feeling like you could exhale.

Your music started playing automatically again once the call had ended, but Tom turned it down immediately, clearly distracted.

Your head was still reeling from the conversation you’d just had and you would need three to five business days to process it, but you knew you had to say something to Tom. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but his jaw was clenched like it was when he was upset so you knew it couldn’t be good. 

“I’m... sorry if that was weird for you,” you tried. “I know it was weird for me.”

Tom turned his head toward in surprise, as if he hadn’t been expecting you to say anything, and his eyes softened immediately. “Are you okay, love?” 

“Yeah,” you said and nodded like you were trying to convince yourself too, “I think so.” 

“You sure?”

You nodded again, then asked him the same. “Are you okay?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m trying to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my girlfriend’s ex just called her out of the blue and basically asked to hook up with her right in front of me, so I’ve been better.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s jealousy and settled for crossing your arms over your chest instead. “Tom, she did not ask to hook up with me. Were we listening to the same conversation?”

“It wasn’t that hard to read between the lines, y/n. ‘You should let me smoke you out as a thank you’, like that wasn’t just straight-up flirting. She was obviously using the god damn faucet as an excuse just to talk to you again.” 

“I-” 

He wasn’t wrong, and evidently you both knew that. The faucet might have been a legitimate issue, but it was an awfully convenient one too. You brought your thumb to your mouth and started chewing on your nail anxiously, not even realizing you were doing so until Tom gently pulled your hand away. 

“Sorry,” you murmured. 

“No, darling, don’t apologize,” he insisted. “I know it was probably difficult to hear from her after so long, and I, I’m not making it any fucking easier. I just got in my head about things... because your relationship with her was so serious and it lasted for like two years and you lived together and we’ve only been dating for a few months-"

You sighed and leaned over the center console to rest your head on his shoulder. “All of that may be true, but you know I would never go back to her, right?”

He paused for a moment before finally nodding. “I do.”

“She’s my past. You’re my future.”

Tom smiled and leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. “And you’re mine. For as long as you want to be.”

[just-jordie-things]

Pesky Feelings - John B Routledge

word count: 4238 warnings: swearing, two oblivious lovesick idiots summary: thornton!reader and John B are your typical childhood best friends, which comes along with your typical angst of secretly being in love and not knowing how to admit it :) request: @killerwasteland​: I'm here with another idea for a John b : avoiding him like the plague after confessing your feelings and him tryna get you to talk to him because you didn't even give him the chance to say whether he reciprocated the feelings (+ bonus points if they're childhood best friends + extra bonus points if she's topper's sister) (a/n): ok I love this, and also john b is a major dork of a bf ___

“Can we talk?” (y/n) had asked quietly, grabbing onto her friend’s wrist softly, hoping he wouldn’t freak out at those three dreaded words.

John B didn’t freak out, he simply nodded, and followed her away from the party, so that they could have some privacy.  There was nothing that (y/n) could ever say to him that would freak him out.

She was his best friend, he loved her, and he trusted her with his life.  So he remained calm as they found a decent spot to talk privately, where the music wasn’t loud, and no one could really see them and make judgmental assumptions.

(y/n) sucked in a deep breath, letting go of his wrist as her hands tangled together.  It was a nervous tic of hers, one that John B recognized, but even still, he was calm as he placed his hands over hers soothingly.

“What’s up?” He asked, ever so laid back.

She was thankful that he was such an easy going guy, it definitely made what she was about to say next a little easier.

“I just… um I wanted to tell you that… that I…” She licks her lips as she trails off, anxiety bubbling up inside of her like water that was about to boil over a pot.

John B doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t want to rush her and make her more nervous than she clearly already was.  But he couldn’t deny that he was on the edge of his seat, dying on the inside of curiosity.  He does his best not to show it, though.

“Look you don’t have to say anything, or- or feel the same way I just wanted you to know how I feel and that I… I really like you,” Her eyes flicker up to his, glossy and apprehensive.  “I like you as more than a friend” She said more clearly.

John B opened his mouth to reply, and it should have been an easy response, but it wasn’t.  He froze up completely, his hands stiffening over her own and his eyes blowing wide as he stood their speechlessly.

But while he was too bashful to know what to say, the pit in (y/n’s) stomach was trying to swallow her whole, and suddenly she wished a hole would open up below her and just suck her into the earth, out of this situation.

“Oh my god,” She mumbled, realizing what she’d just done.  “Oh my god, I- I’m so sorry-”

She started to back away, pulling her hands out of John B’s, eyes scanning over the party in hopes to find someone that she could flock to.

“Wait, (y/n)-”

“I’m gonna go- yeah- I’m gonna head out”

She’s speed walking away from him before he can find the lick of sense to grab her hand and pull her back towards him, hold onto her and never ever let go.

“(y/n)!” He called after her, but she just waved goodbye, and went into the crowd to tell her brother she was going home, with or without him.

He was the one with the car, but she would run all the way to the Figure Eight if she had to right now. ___

(y/n) rolled over in her bed, pushing her face into her pillow and letting out a frustrated cry.  No words came out, it’s just that when she thought about that night, the amount of cringe she felt took over her whole body.

“Okay, calm down,” Kiara said through the speaker of her phone.

They’d been Facetiming for the last half hour or so, but it was difficult for (y/n) to focus on any of the topics they tried to talk about when her mind was constantly reminding her of the biggest failure she’s ever experienced.

“It’s not that bad, (y/n)” Kie added.

“Not that bad?” (y/n) repeated, lifting her head to look at the screen.  “It’s terrible. He was my best friend- what the fuck was I thinking?”

“You had a bit to drink, alcohol is liquid courage you know,” Kiara said, only half-joking.  “And he’d been holding your hand all night, (y/n/n), that’s reasonable evidence that he liked you back-”

“Not reasonable enough apparently!” (y/n) shrieked.  “I can’t believe I actually thought he would ever like me-”

“Hey,” Topper came into the room without bothering to knock, an annoyed look on his face.  “Could you keep it down? Rafe and I are trying to-”

“Get the fuck out,” (y/n) grumbled, chucking a stuffed animal from her at him.  “I’m going through something” She added.

Topper rolled his eyes at her.

“Really? He was just a Pogue (y/n), I don’t get why you hang out with them”

They’d had this argument pretty much every day their whole lives.  Topper could be a good brother sometimes, he’d pick up dinner for her, drive her to the keggers on the beach, and he was definitely protective of her.  But that didn’t mean his personality had a gold star next to it.

He was definitely your average Kook, if not a little worse.  It could really get under (y/n’s) skin at times, but recently she’d just decided to ignore it.  It was much easier to ignore it anyways, because then it would go away.

“Get out” She repeated, throwing a pillow at him this time.

He didn’t say anything, just shook his head and left.

“Wow,” Kiara groaned through the phone.  “He sucks”

“I know,” (y/n) agreed.  “But he just doesn’t get it.  He doesn’t know John B like I do.  He doesn’t know any of you guys like I do”

Kiara understood that the Thornton siblings had a major disconnect when it came to who they spent their time with.  Anyone with eyes could see the difference in character between (y/n) and Topper.

In fact, when people met (y/n), they expected the whole family to be as sweet and charismatic as her.  But they were almost always left disappointed.

“You should just come talk to him,” Kiara said, getting back on topic.  “No matter what happens, or what he says, you know that he’ll be understanding.  He doesn’t want you to feel hurt or left out”

“I know,” (y/n) huffed.  “I know I just.. I don’t think I can see him yet.  It won’t feel the same for me like it does for him.  He’ll say that nothing has to change but… it will.  It will for me”

Kiara frowned, but she understood where her friend was coming from.

She just also knew that John B had to feel the same way.  There was no way that he’d been sweet on her all this time and didn’t have feelings.  She’d known the pair all their lives, and for as long as she’d known them, John B had a soft spot for the Kook girl.  It was the one constant in the group.

“I should have just listened to the rule, and kept my mouth shut.  No Pogue on Pogue macking.  It’s there for a reason.  This is the exact fucking reason- hold on I’m getting a call”

“From who?”

(y/n) stared at the screen for a moment, her heart melting at the picture that she’d set for John B’s contact.  It was them when they were in middle school, they looked dorky and very out of style, but it was sweet.  They were going to their first school dance, and their parents had begged them to take a picture before they went, this picture.

John B had eagerly thrown his arms around her, hugging her tightly like he always did.  He had a big cheesy and toothy grin on his face, which was adorable when you looked at the rest of the picture, seeing his crooked bowtie.

(y/n) had hugged him back, a bit more warily, and the smile on her face was softer.  You could see the blush on her cheeks when you really studied the picture.

“John B,” (y/n) answered after snapping out of her daze, and hit the decline call option.  “Sorry, I’m back”

“What? Girl, why didn’t you answer?”

“Because, like I said, it’s weird now-”

“He was probably calling you to invite you to a late night ride on the boat,” Kiara said, always the voice of reason to everyone in the group.

Sometimes she was convinced she was the only one with any brain cells.

“You should call him back” She stated.

“No way, I’m gonna wait,” (y/n) replied.  “I can’t talk to him right now, I’ll clam up, or stutter, and it’ll be embarrassing”

“Who cares?” Kiara half-shouted.  “He obviously wants to talk to you”

“But what if its about-”

“Does it matter what it’s about?” Kiara cut her off, “Him wanting to talk to you is a good sign either way”

“Well, he’s been calling me all week” (y/n) admitted, looking away from the screen.

“All week? Jesus (y/n/n), you’re probably freaking the boy out-”

“I know!” (y/n) cried, shoving her face back into her pillow.  “This is all so stupid.  This is like- high school drama stupid.  I feel like an idiot”

“No offense babe, but you are an idiot,” Kie giggled.  “I love you, but you're so oblivious”

“Am I?” (y/n) muttered, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Yes, without a doubt,” Kiara said, still laughing light heartedly.  “Do you even remember when I met you guys?”

Kiara had been a new student at Kildare Elementary in the second grade.  The first day was always the worst, but luckily by recess, she met a nice boy with messy hair and a friendly smile.

They had been playing on the swingset together for a little while, asking the ridiculous questions you ask other seven year olds when you’re becoming friends.  Most of their conversation had been about the Power Rangers, until another girl came up to the swings.

John B hopped off his immediately so the short (y/h/c) haired girl could swing.  She’d thanked him with an equally friendly smile as she sat on the swing, and waited for him to push her because she hadn’t been very good at swinging up high like he was.

“This is Kiara, she’s new,” John B introduced.  “And this is (y/n),” He told Kiara.  “You can be friends with her too, but she’s my best friend, so you can’t have her”

(y/n) had giggled at that, but hopped off the swing so that she could hug the new girl.

“We can all be best friends,” She’d announced.  “There’s nothing wrong with having two best friends”

John B had pouted for a bit, but as their playdates turned into the three of them, and eventually they met two other boys, he was okay with having other friends around.  

As long as (y/n) always picked him to be partners in hide and seek, and as long as she always laid her sleeping bag next to his, then he wouldn’t complain.

The girls were Kooks, and the boys were Pogues, but all their lives, it hadn’t mattered.  (y/n) had never really thought twice about it, even when her brother would be kind of a jerk, or when other Kooks would pick on the group in high school, she never second guessed her friendship with them, her love for them.  They were all her best friends, John B had just always been something more than that.  Something beyond best.  He was priority number one, and looking back on it, she’d always loved him.

“Don’t you remember?” Kiara asked again, bringing (y/n) back from the memories of their early childhood together.  “You’ve been attached at the hip since like, kindergarden,” She reminded with a laugh.  “He didn’t even want to share you with anyone, and honestly, he still doesn’t.  That night of the party? He dragged you with him everywhere”

“He just doesn’t like when girls hit on him” (y/n) shrugged nonchalantly.

“Yeah, but he can probably go to the bathroom on his own”

All night, John B had been filling up cups at the keg with one hand, and the other had been tangled in (y/n’s).  He’d had a bit to drink, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to get more affectionate after three beets, so (y/n) hadn’t thought much of it.

And she wasn’t about to complain about a boy she liked holding her hand.

But even when Kiara took over running the keg, and the other Pogues hung out, dancing around and smoking together, his hand hadn’t let go of hers.  He always had a good excuse.  

He didn’t like when Touron girls hit on him, he didn’t want to lose her in the crowd, he wanted to make sure she was safe by his side, no matter what he’d say, (y/n) would go along with it.  But that night had been different.

He started to take her with him towards the Chateau, and she’d stopped him once she realized where he was heading.

“John B, I wanna keep partying” She said with a pout.

“Yeah, I just have to pee” He’d replied, rather honest.  Five drink John B was a pretty honest dude.

“Pee by yourself” (y/n) giggled as a cringe crossed her features.  She started to take her hand out of his, but he was quick to grab hold of it again.

“Wait- no, I don’t wanna go alone” He whined, pulling her against his chest.

(y/n’s) pout remained, but she followed him anyways with a reluctant ‘fine’.

“I don’t wanna hold your hand while you pee though,” She’d told him once they got to the house.  “That’s weird, and kinda gross”

“Fine” John B muttered like it bothered him, making her laugh.

“You’re such a weirdo John B,” She said, and stood outside the bathroom door as he went in.  She quickly shut the door when he unzipped his pants, a shriek leaving her throat.  “Close the fucking door you dork!” She yelled, slamming the door shut for him, bursting into a fit of giggles at how weird he was at five drinks.

He usually didn’t drink much at these things, he liked to keep an eye on the party, and man the keg to make sure everyone was being safe with their underage drinking.

But for some reason tonight was different.

JJ stumbled past (y/n), a girl on his arm, and he almost kept walking to the guest room before he realized it was (y/n) standing there.

“What are you doin’ inside?” He asked, while the pretty brunette Touron was macking on his neck.

“John B had to pee” (y/n) shrugged back at him, trying her best to keep eye contact with him, and not look at the girl who was furiously sucking on his neck.

“You guys are weird,” JJ said, shaking his head before continuing to lead his hookup to his designated room.  

But he said one last thing to her before shutting the door behind him.

“Maybe you should tell him you’re in love with him”

(y/n) had laughed it off, just as John B came out of the bathroom, but the words sat at the front of her mind all night, until eventually, she thought ‘why not?’ and just went for it.

Huge mistake.

“I don’t know why I listened to JJ,” (y/n) muttered in irritation.  “Idiotic”

(y/n’s) phone buzzed, and she clicked on the notification.

[ John Booker ] : please call me back?

She typed back some bullshit excuse that she was busy right now, but she’d try to call him later.  It was a lie, she knew damn well she wasn’t going to call him.

“You’re looking at this all wrong” Kiara told her.  “You’re only seeing things from your point of view, you need to think of it from John B’s”

“I did, it made me feel worse”

“Not really though.  Did you ever wonder why he clung to you all night? Even when he went to the bathroom? Or why he doesn’t like other girls flirting with him?”

She brought up good points, and (y/n’s) heart skipped a beat as she listened, but she’d learned not to have too much hope when it came to other people’s feelings, because you never really know.

“I think you should call him back.  Or go over, he’s home now I think”

“Kie, you have way too much faith in me,” She mumbled, picking at the blankets on her bed.  “I think I’ve been scarred for life, I don’t think I’ll ever-”

She was cut off by a tapping on her window, but when she turned to see what it was, there was nothing there, so she ignored it and went back to Facetime.

“-I don’t think I’ll ever make a move again-” She finished, but there was another tap on the window.

Still nothing.

It was strange that it happened twice, but she didn’t feel like getting out of bed, so she pretended it was nothing.

“That’s kind of ridiculous, don’t you think?” Kiara teased.  “Besides, who else would you make a move on anyways?”

“Hey” (y/n) mumbled, offended by the comment.

“Come on, there’s no one for you but John B, you can admit it,” Her friend laughed.  “And there’s still a chance…”

Whatever she started to say, (y/n) couldn’t hear, because her phone lit up with a bunch of texts at once.

[ John Booker ] : i know you’re holed up in your room, would you come to the window already?

[ John Booker ] : i’m outside

[ John Booker ] : hurry up juliet

(y/n’s) heart nearly stopped in her chest.

“... and who knows? Maybe you just have to give him some time-”

“Oh my god, Kie-” (y/n) cut her off, scrambling off her bed.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“He’s here”

“Who?”

“John B, he’s here” (y/n) stated, and hurried over to her window.

Sure enough, standing outside two stories down, was John B, still throwing pebbles at her window like he was in some teen rom-com.

“Oh shit,” Kiara giggled.  “Go talk to him!”

When John B reared back to throw another rock, he noticed (y/n) was there this time, and his whole face broke out into a grin.

“Finally!” He hollered, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Oh my god” (y/n) mumbled.

Kiara was still laughing through the phone while (y/n) unlocked her window and slid it open, leaning out of it as she looked down at him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked, making him bark out a laugh.

“You weren’t answering me! Now are you coming down or not?”

“I-” She started to say something, but he spoke up again.

“Don’t make me climb up there, Juliet” He said with a laugh.

“Stop calling me that,” (y/n) replied, but she couldn’t help the laugh she let out.  “I’ll be down in just a second”

With that, she retreated into her room, staring at her phone, hoping Kiara would give her literally any advice right now.

“Just go talk to him, you dork,” Kiara said.  “And call me later.  Love you! Bye-!”

“Wait, Kie-!”

But her phone beeped as Kiara hung up, and she was left staring at her Facetime call log.

She stuffed her phone in her pocket as she went out the front door, and rounded the corner to the side of the house, where John B was sitting in her yard, waiting patiently for her arrival.

“Oh good,” He smiled as he saw her, standing up and brushing the grass off his shorts.  “I thought I was gonna have to scale two stories, and last time I came over and did that I fell”

“Yeah, I remember,” (y/n) said with a soft chuckle.  “I thought you died or something, you laid there for so long-”

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He said suddenly, cutting right to the reason he came over.

(y/n) froze up, anxiety flooding over her like a tidal wave.

“Did you… did you not mean it?” He asked in a quieter voice.

“Not mean it?” (y/n) mumbled back, her heart sinking in her chest as she thought about it.  “Why would I say something like that and not mean it?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know what to think I mean- you say something like that and then you ran off and I haven’t seen you for a week”

“I- I’ve been busy” She mumbled uselessly.  

It was pointless to lie to him, she’s known him her whole life, he could read her like a book.  Any emotion she felt was like a headline on her forehead, easy for him to see and respond to.

“That’s bullshit,” He called her out, but he let out a small laugh after, letting her know he didn’t mean it to be hurtful.  “But… don’t you want to know how I feel? About you?” He asked her, stepping closer.

“Um, not really” She answered, her hands beginning to wring together.

“Not really?” He laughed again in surprise.

(y/n) shook her head, her eyes meeting his, even though she felt small and bashful under his gaze.  She knew it would be weird now, different, this is exactly how she expected to feel when she saw him again.

“No, I- I don’t want you to reject me, or pity me- we can just ignore it completely-” She started to explain herself, but John B laughed again, so she stopped.  “Why are you laughing?”

“Because, for being my best friend, I really don’t understand you sometimes,” John B answered.  “Why did you think I was going to reject you?”

(y/n’s) brows furrowed, and she gained some confidence from the annoyance she was currently feeling towards him.  How dare he be a cheeky asshole right now? Couldn’t he see how terrible she felt? How anxious she felt?

“Because,” She argued.  “I told you how I felt about you, and you didn’t say anything! Hell, you didn’t react at all”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“John B, that sucked,” She continued.  

Might as well be honest with him now.  If it was the answer he wanted, then fine.  She had nothing left to lose right? She’d thrown all dignity out the window last weekend at the kegger.  Why not her pride too?

“Do you know how embarrassing that was? I still want to be your friend, of course I do, but it was a mistake, I shouldn’t have-”

“You worry too much” John B said, and before she could react, probably by yelling some more, he crossed the space between them and kissed her.

She instantly swallowed her words and melted into his touch.  All anxieties and worries that she’d ruined their friendship washed away, and all that mattered was him.

Her arms practically flew around his neck as she reached up on the tips of her toes to reach him properly.  John B lost his balance at the sudden movements, stumbling for a moment, but he quickly stabilized them.

His hands cupped around her cheeks, keeping her close as their lips met again and again, and in all honestly, they both planned on standing outside all night and macking on each other.  They’d waited this long.

John B’s lips were just so warm and welcoming, they were easy for her to get attached to, and probably addicted to.

“Hey! No macking on Pogues!”

Unfortunately, Topper ruined the good mood.

(y/n) whirled around, catching sight of her brother as he was heading to his car.  She flipped him off, and stuck her tongue out for good measure.  It made John B laugh, despite Topper’s usual asshole-ness.

Topper just returned the gesture, but got in his car and left anyway.  (y/n) just hoped he was getting tired of keeping up the bad blood between the Figure Eight and The Cut.

When he left, she turned back to John B, a smile playing on her lips as she wrapped her small hands around his wrists.

“Now that he’s gone… wanna go inside and finish what we started?” She asked, only half teasing.

John B eagerly nodded, stealing another kiss from her.

“Abso-fuckin-lutely,” He said, and followed her out of the yard.  “But later we have to go back to mine, I told JJ and Pope that we’d hang out later tonight after we settled… this” He explained, gesturing between them.

“Wow, you were that certain you were gonna get the girl, huh?” (y/n) joked.

As they went inside, he shut the door behind him, and immediately grabbed her by the hips, pulling her flush against his chest.  The action made her cheeks flush red, and she bit her lip shyly.

“I mean, the girl did admit that she was hopelessly in love with me-”

“That’s not what I said-”

“And that she would just die if she couldn’t be with me, and she’s probably been waiting to kiss me for like, what has it been ten whole years?”

“John B,” (y/n) scolded, swatting half-heartedly at his chest.  “I didn’t say any of that”

“Out loud,” He corrected.  “You were definitely thinking it.  I could tell”

She rolled her eyes as her hands took hold of the collar of his shirt.

“Just shut up and kiss me, dork” ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[bibbykins]

Retroactive Redamancy (M)

A/N: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC. This fic does have some darker scenes which I will detail in the warnings. This fic wasn’t as difficult for me to write, but we all have different triggers, so please take care of yourself first above all else. On a lighter note, I am extremely happy to be finishing the soft yandere series. Is this the last of my soft yandere fics or this au? Absolutely not, I have a ton of fun writing yandere and this au, but I am also looking forward to the other fics I plan on posting. All of my wips have some yandere elements, but in varying degree. I hope you will continue to support me and have a great day/night and stay safe in these trying times!

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst

Word count: 11.9k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Hoseok x reader

Warnings: graphic depictions of blood, graphic descriptions of domestic abuse (not done by Hoseok), graphic descriptions of injury on the mouth/tongue, mentions of trauma, anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of puke, penetrative sex, cunnilingus, cumming inside *** all sexual acts mentioned are consensual ***, unhealthy relationship, toxic relationship

Summary: You both swore you would never see each other again. It’s funny how fate works, even when you have to go through hell to make it work. His house was just a random house as you stumbled out of a cab, blood pooling in your mouth. You had no expectations for him to catch you when you fell, and most importantly, protect you when you needed it most. He sat you on his throne and called himself your knight. Is it wrong of you to love him again for it? Is it wrong of him to keep you? Is it wrong of you to want to be kept? 

The act of loving back.

It was the way he looked at you. It was the way he made you feel like the only one in his world and him the only one in yours. It was love. But that's the tricky thing about two people loving one another. One person can decide it is no longer a shared love. In a split second, it is unrequited.

---

“I-I don't understand.”  Your bottom lip quivered as Hoseok stood in front of you. In any other situation, he would've knelt down and consoled you, but this was an outlier in that pattern, “You said you wanted to be with me for the rest of your life.”

“For the rest of my life here.” He gestured to your hometown surrounding both of you, “Now I have to go back to my life.”

His life? But this was his life. Right?

He said you were his world and now he couldn’t wait to explore another universe, any universe away from you.

That's when it hit you. All you did was keep him company as he studied abroad. He was a college sophomore testing out the waters of a new country, and you were a high school senior, browsing for college and falling head over heels for this man the past nine months.

"You must have a lovely girlfriend at home, huh?" He remained silent, guilty. You let out a breathy laugh, “Oh, I see.” You sighed, the tears finally toppling over and hitting your cheeks, “You're scared to be alone.” He remained silent, “What kind of man are you back home that you call this here a different life?” Guilty silence, “I love you, and you don't know a damn thing about me I bet.” Your lip quivered, "That's what I get for being the other woman." You spit the words out, more angry with yourself.

“You're angry, I get it.” He spoke softly as he reached for your hand and you recoiled sharply, “You hate me.”

“I'm hurt.” You snapped, looking him in his eyes full of guilt, “I could never hate you, just like you could never love me. Just like how you refuse to tell me where home is for you. Just like how you refuse to tell me about your family. Just like how you refuse to fall in love because you are so afraid of the other person not catching you. Well, I have just hit the ground, and I hope you're fucking ecstatic.” Your tears didn't hinder your words but made them hit harder in Hoseok’s eyes. 

You were always so observant. He wondered where life would take you with that talent. Where you wanted to go with that talent. He made sure he never knew.

You were only in high school. You were just 18. You would forget him.

“I can't believe how much I love you.” You sighed, “I'm so fucking pathetic. I'm sick of this.” You sniffed and he braced himself for the final proclamation of hate, “You have a great life in mystery land with a mystery girl and achieve all the things you want to with your mystery major, and I will do the same, okay?”  You took a deep breath, “Do great things in life.” You told him before turning on your heel and walking away.

It would have been easier on the both of you if you hated him.

----

Hoseok was now in his first year of graduate school. He was the director of human resources at a large company. He was wealthy, smart, and he loved to have company, even if it was not his ideal companion. There was a certain whisper from his past that kept him awake after an exhausting one nightstand.

The void in his heart was semi-filled as he stuffed his dick inside someone else. Hoseok had established a pattern of getting a secretary into bed and then the secretary would quit once their declaration of love was effectively denied. He could not admit to himself why he rejected each confession, but he knew it had to do with a certain girl he had denied himself further access too at an attempt toward redemption. Despite this unspoken wound on his heart, he was expecting to do the same cycle of his with his soon to be former secretary Jiyeon on this cold night until he heard a knock on his door, a persistent one.

“Give me one second.” He pecked the girl's neck at the table, expecting it to be the groceries he ordered.

Upon opening the door, Hoseok found something else. He found a girl with a thin sweater and sweatpants shaking. She had a face mask and her eyes were downcast. 

When you heard the door open you looked up, “H-Hoseok? Jung Hoseok?” You were baffled, “I-I didn't know you live here, but I need a favor.” He knew who you were. He knew the way his name came from your lips. He knew how the syllables roll off your tongue.

Hoseok drew a breath, trying to make sure he was living and breathing at this moment. He couldn’t imagine he had been dreaming about you this time. All his dreams of you were blissful. Although, this setting of you needing something from him could very well be in his dreams. 

It was really you. The not so forgotten dream girl he abandoned in favor of his fear of commitment. You looked different. You looked hurt. What were you doing here? How did you even get here? Why were you here after years of being apart?

You, on the other hand, felt a mixture of relief and dread. On one hand, Hoseok was a sore spot in your romantic history, but he was officially the best boyfriend you’ve had, albeit, by default. On the other hand, you were in pain and you wanted nothing more than to cry and be coddled, but feeling secure that this man would not hurt you physically was enough.

It was really him. The man who turned his back on you. The man who was still as beautiful as the day he left you, but now was absolutely not the time to focus on that,  “I need to use a phone or charge mine.” You squeaked and Hoseok looked at you in bewilderment, and you assumed it was due to not recognizing you, “It's y/n.” You offered but he was still stunned, as you saw a beautiful woman linger behind him, “Look, I don't care who you're fucking right now, please let me in.” Your voice was quaking, desperate. He had never heard it like this before.

 He stepped to the side as you scurried in, “Jiyeon, leave.” The girl balked and he turned to her with a stern eye, “Go.” The girl scoffed as she slammed the front door behind her.

“Where's the bathroom?” You immediately asked, bottom lip beginning to tremble as the pain set in.

“Y/n, what-" He had so many questions

“Later, I promise,” Your voice shook as your body still was, “Bathroom, please.” Your mouth sounded full almost and Hoseok studied you to find a line of red down your neck. 

It was dried blood, but upon further inspection not all of it was dry.

“You're bleeding!”  He spoke incredulously as he went to take your mask off. You wanted to fight it, but you were exhausted, “Don't even think about fighting me. You're hurt.” He read your mind as he pulled the mask down with a steady hand. The mask revealed a busted lip and a cut tongue that was now oozing blood, “Holy shit!” The man went to grab a rag as he held it to your lip, “What the fuck happened?!” He led your shaky legs over to a barstool in his kitchen.

You sat down, slumped over, looking at the rag to see small amounts of blood blotting the fabric. You were no longer gushing. That was good, “I didn't know where else to go.” You were muffled against the cotton, “This was the first place I could find. I had no idea you would- you would be here.”

Hoseok took a look at you. Your eyes were red and puffy. Your cheeks were stained with pure tears. Your nose had traces of blood on the nostrils. Your hands were bruised with open slices that stopped bleeding. Your shirt was torn on the stomach and shoulder. Your feet only had socks on them as your sweatpants had even more dry blood.

Hoseok shuddered at the thought of what happened. He wondered if someone did it. The notion made his blood boil. He took a look at your hand and saw an engagement ring. His blood was no on fire. It didn't take a genius to see what happened. To put two and two together.

You followed his eyes and scoffed, “Pretty, huh?” You mused, lifting your finger up, “You should feel it when someone makes you slice your tongue on it.” You spoke flatly as Hoseok wet a paper towel to clean your chin.

You let go of the rag, the blood now dry and finished pouring out, “What happened?” Hoseok asked softly as you sighed.

“I have poor, poor taste in men.” You sniffled,” No offense.” You offered to the man in front of you,  “I am a victim of my poor judgment.” You sighed, and coughed as the thickness of your own blood sliding down your throat before it finally hit you, “Holy shit that hurts.” Your hand stroked your throat as Hoseok caught glimpse of faded bruises along your neck.

“How… How are you here?” He pressed a cold hand to your neck and you flinched before relaxing against his touch.

“Alive or in your home?” You giggled before coughing, “Sorry, not funny.” You breathed a small sigh as a wet cloth began to wipe away the blood that dripped onto your neck, “I went to University in Ilsang about two years ago. I fell for a man who could never love me, call me a creature of habit, but his parents did love me. I am quite the parent charmer, so he proposed, we moved just outside of the city, and began to plan the wedding.” Your cocky smile fell as you wiped a drop of blood from your mouth, “But the funny thing about being the girl of his parents' dreams almost always means I am not the girl of his.” Hoseok could feel his body heating in rage, “She is sexier, wild, and full of life, so she tried to take mine away, much to his approval.” You felt a tear try to squeeze past your swollen eye, “Call me a pacifist, but I prefer to be broken up with rather than beat.” Hoseok could finally see your face now with all the blood gone. You hadn't changed much, still as beautiful as the day he met you, “I won't bore you with the gore, but it was without purpose. I got a job in the city here as well as a scholarship for the university, so I was planning to leave anyway. However, running from my old apartment covered in blood and begging a taxi to take me as far as he can is not how I planned to make the move.”

“You mean she attacked you and he just let it happen?” Hoseok clenched the cloth in his hand.

“He… uh, held me down.” You shivered, all feigned strength and nonchalance absolved as you realized the gravity of your situation. You were homeless, beaten, and your job didn't begin until after the New Year thanks to a paid holiday break you still got compensated for, and now felt extremely thankful for, “God, this is so fucking crazy."

“We need to call the police!” Hoseok, in contrast to you, was fuming. How someone could ever lay a hand on you is something he would never care to understand. He just wanted to see them burn.

“No point.” You sighed for the nth time of the night. You opened your mouth to elaborate but was cut off by your own coughing as the blood in your tongue tried to make its way down your throat again. 

Hoseok didn't hesitate in putting his hand in front of your mouth. He felt your blood splatter onto his hand, “God, give me his name.” He murmured as you coughed into his hand.

“I'm sorry.” You coughed again, before pulling away from his hand, “That is so gross.” You looked to his bloodied hand.

There was something almost primal with the way Hoseok felt the need to take care of you. No matter how many years went by or the amount he fucked up with you, his instinct to keep you safe has not changed, much to his dismay. Throughout the years, he did his best to stay away from you, but he found himself more than horrified by the result of this.

You were in his kitchen, beaten and coughing blood into his hand. He was trying to remain calm as he wet a towel to wipe your neck, but his knuckles turned white on the sink when he turned the faucet. He needed to know the names of the people who did this. He needed to tear them down.

Hoseok brought a white rag into your neck and the cooling sensation of the water made your eye flutter closed in bliss. He savored the moment of your care-free look. He missed it. He carefully rid your neck of your caked-on blood and he was happy to see your beautiful skin again.

You let him brush the rag against the corners of your mouth and on your cheek, cleaning you. He turned the rag to a clean side and pushed your cheeks lightly opening your mouth. You got the hint and reluctantly stuck your tongue out, but the feeling of the cool cloth on your wounded tongue made up for it.

You were beautiful, even more so now that he could see your face, “There you are.” He murmured, “Doesn’t look like your face will bruise.” He mused as he cleaned your tongue, “Tongues heal pretty quick and the cut isn’t too deep either.” His first aid training from last month was proving pretty useful.

“You think so?” You asked him before looking into his eyes.

Hoseok returned your look. His face lit up as your innocent eyes looked for confirmation. In your eyes, Hoseok could see all that he denied himself. He could see the number of times you cried without him there, the times you giggled and he wasn't there to tease you on how cute it was, and the times you proclaimed to love someone who didn't deserve it. But no more. Hoseok had you here now, and he was dead set on keeping it that way. You were the one.

Hoseok was always so warm, and his eyes showed as much when he returned your gaze with the same smile that made your heartbeat, “You'll be just fine.” He touched your cheek softly and you relaxed fully for the first time this whole night.

There was something about his affirmation that made you feel like everything would be okay. You would start your new job and be the person you always wanted to be. You would be more than a beaten girl on your ex’s front porch. You would be able to close your eyes and wake up to a new day. This night will be in the past one day. You have a future ahead of you. These are all the things that seemed impossible hours ago. These are all the things Hoseok reminded you of in just four words. 

With this in mind, you decided it was time to let go of tonight. Let go of the pain and the suffering for just a moment.

You felt your bottom lip tremble and you let it happen as you felt your chest give as you let the sob jump out of your mouth. You let go of the rag you held and gripped the soft shirt Hoseok was wearing and pressed your forehead against his chest. You took a deep breath and felt the long-withheld tears pour down your cheeks as you hiccuped and sobbed against his chest.

If Hoseok wasn't so in love with you, he would think you were breaking down. However, he knew better. You were still his y/n after all. This is how you rebuilt. This is how you let go and face the future. This is how you heal. You express emotion in the most physical way you can. You find peace in watching the pain dry from your eyes. 

He wrapped your arms around you as you cried into his chest, clutching onto him for dear life, “You never change.” He mused as your shoulders shook, “Still my strong girl, even after all this time.” He stroked your hair as you sniffled.

You had stayed like this for a while. You let hell loose on Hoseok’s shirt. For a moment, it was like you were together again. It was as if you went back with him instead of all those years ago. You went to school with him and moved in with him. You would flaunt the love you two shared in glee as you spent your life with your first love. There would be no one else. Just him.

While this fantasy was nothing but, at this moment, you remembered how right it felt to be in his arms. Maybe you had been obsessed with him these past few years. Maybe you still loved him like you were still a teenager

Little did you know, he often dreamt of the possibility. 

“I-I thought I was gonna die there!” You sobbed.

Hoseok only held you tighter, unable to even bear the thought, “I'm never letting you go, y/n.” He cooed, “You have to know that.” 

A possibility that no longer seemed too out of reach.

Hoseok held you for hours before he felt your grip relax and your breathing even. Your weight was fully on him and he was happy to see you trusting him enough at this moment to fall asleep. To feel safe enough to rest. He wondered when the last time was that you slept peacefully. 

You stayed in this position until he was sure you were asleep. He lifted you in his arms as your head drooped against his shoulder. He carried you to his bedroom with the lightest step as he laid you down. 

Not one to overstep boundaries too much, Hoseok opted to sleep on the couch after tucking you in. He laid down and he wondered about all the ways he could make that bastard ex of yours pay. 

You woke up purely on your own. No alarm. No paranoia. No nightmare. Just your internal clock, which you were delighted to find was still functioning. You opened your eyes and yes, everything hurt, but you were still comfortable. 

You sat up, and that's when everything really hurt. You cried out as you put your hand to your aching head. Crying always gave you a headache. Paired with the beating from last night, your head was hell.

Hoseok raced down the hall to get to you. You looked up to see him out of breath and holding a bottle of water with a small pill in his hand, “Be careful!” He softly scolded as he handed you the pill and unscrewed the cap on the bottle.

You took the bottle from him as you popped the pill marked with the brand of a painkiller into your mouth before drinking the water. You had only then just realized how thirsty you were and began gulping it.

“Hey, hey slow down.” Hoseok’s hand lightly caressed your nape and you slowly put the bottle down, now half empty.

“Sorry, my-” You winced, your tongue proving to be quite sensitive.

“Talk lightly, you’re healing.” Hoseok cooed and for a moment you were brought back to the ridiculous reality you were brought into. You were in your first love’s bed alone after being nearly killed by your ex-fiance's side-chick. Now, the man who broke your heart was nursing you back to full health and treating your wounds. You wondered if you would wake up soon from this fever dream. Although, the pain on your tongue told you this was all too real.

“My throat was raw.” You with your tongue barely touching your mouth, making your speech much slower, “Is what I was trying to say.”

“I figured as much, you had a rough night to say the least, sweetheart.” Hoseok smiled at you reassuringly, “But here we are, a new day, a new chapter.” He gestured around him, “Now, your phone has been going off quite incessantly since I charged it, is there anyone that you were hoping to hear from?” 

You thought for a moment. You moved to South Korea on your own and the only friend you made became your fiance, now ex. His mom would call from time to time, but no way were you talking to her. Your family was long gone, so that’s out of the question. All you had was your new job, but it was a Saturday morning. You shook your head.

“Do you mind if I look at who it is?” He asked and you shook your head, the pounding of it having now subsided, letting the light vibrations of your phone on the nightstand register in your eardrum. Hoseok reached over and took your severely cracked phone into his slender hand, “Who is Oh Sookwang?” He asked, noticing the way you tensed up, “Ah, so that’s his name.” He noted as part of the work that he needs to get done once the workweek begins.

“Wh-What did he say?” You asked hesitantly. Hoseok also hesitated as he scrolled through the texts he sent, “Is it bad?”

“It’s certainly bad for him.” His voice was much colder now with his eyes transfixed on the phone, “It seems he wants to know if you’re dead.” He spoke flatly, “He also wants the ring back for Minyoung.”

You scoffed, unsure of what you expected. You clenched your fist and felt the gold band of the ring dig into your finger. The diamond has specks of your blood dried onto it by now. He probably didn’t even want it for Minyoung. It was probably going to serve as a trophy for another woman broken under their hands. It was a sign of the torment they were capable of inflicting with all the money and the power their feuding parents could give them. You ripped the ring off your finger before throwing it across the room. 

Hoseok watched as the diamond fell out of the ring and onto his bedroom floor. He rolled his eyes at how cheap of a ring this other man dared to present to someone so extremely out of his league. 

“The world is just going to keep turning under his discretion, isn’t it?” Your upper lip twitched in rage.

Hoseok leaned down and kissed the top of your head, “Not while I’m around.”

You looked up at the man who stood before you, “His family is powerful, and so is hers, it’s useless.”

Hoseok chuckled lightly before ruffling your hair, “Look around, babe, I’m powerful.” 

----

It had been a little more than a week before you agreed to stay with Hoseok. On one hand, he was your first love and heartbreak but on the other hand, you had nowhere else to go. The apartment you planned to move to was detected by Sookwang and for your safety, you decided to not sign the lease. Not like Hoseok would let you.

It had been almost a month since that night now. Your company extended your leave due to the circumstances you were faced with and Hoseok arranged his schedule so he could stay home until you went to work.

He had been quite the caretaker. A doctor he trusted came to make a housecall and gave you a clean bill of health, meaning no broken bones or internal bleeding. You screamed the first time he touched you, so you had to hold Hoseok's hand throughout his assessment. The trauma of it all had not hit you until another stranger had to touch you. Hoseok offered to take you to a counselor but you declined, not ready to say it out loud yet. Even so, you eventually did see someone for coping practices and a diagnosis you had already known.

Being with him again was nostalgic in its own way. Sometimes it felt like catching up with an old friend but then other days it felt like you were picking up right where you left off. Of course, you knew you had no business getting into another relationship after just ending an engagement. In reality, though, the engagement ended long ago, you had just stayed around like a loyal punching bag.

“I forgot how good of a cook you were.” You smiled at Hoseok and the fact you could speak without feeling an ache, “You've only gotten better too, no fair.” You pouted at him.

Hoseok took off his apron, moving to join you at the table, “It's just chicken parmesan, not rocket science.” He ruffled your hair, “Cutie.”

You looked at the man across from you and smiled at the way he settled in, “So, tomorrow you go back to work, right?” You asked as you shoveled the food into your mouth.

“Yes, but I could very easily-” You pouted at him reusing the same line. 

“No.” You reiterated, “We are both working tomorrow, remember?” Hoseok closed his mouth in defeat. You had made a good case about needing to return to work and move on this past week that he could not deny, “Be excited, it's cementing this new start.” You smiled reassuringly.

His face softened at you beaming grin and he smiled back, defeated, “I am excited, just worried.” He sighed.

You knew why. He was scared of you getting hurt or your ex trying to finish his lover's job, “You already reported them, so it's okay.” Hoseok nodded at your words, happy with how calm you were now compared to when you found out what he had done.

That was a rough day. You turned on the news to see the fall of Sookwang’s family corporation and Minyoung also went from heiress to most wanted. They were both under investigation for the attempted murder of an unknown female and embezzlement. There had been outside corporate lawyers and criminal lawyers called to the case. You screamed and cried that day, Hoseok taking the brunt of your misdirected anger. You feared taking the stand and that's what really drove your tantrum.

Hoseok grimaced at the memory, protective instincts kicking in, “You could at least tell me where you work or your job.” He grumbled.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “I told you I will.” You pointed your fork at him, “After a week, because otherwise you will show up or send someone to not so discreetly watch me.” You watch Hoseok slump, guilty, “And you will tell me all about your job then so I don't run to you whenever I get scared.”

“But I want you to run to me if you get scared.” He pouted this time, “I can't bear the thought of you being alone.”

“I can just call you, doofus.” You reached you his hand across the table and watched as he relaxed at the contact, “If I make you my crutch, I will only prove people like Sookwang and Minyoung right.” You mused sadly, “I gotta be better than that.”

Hoseok bit his tongue. He wanted to say that you were miles above scum like them. He would kill them with his bare hands if he didn't have the basic human rationale he cultivated ever so slightly. His morals weren't there, but he couldn't take care of you behind prison bars and he couldn't take you away into hiding and still make you happy. He also couldn't incite violence in fear of you comparing him to Minyoung. He had weighed his options very heavily and was extremely grateful he had the power to ensure the legal system would not fail you. With this, he chose to discipline scum with proper justice and corporate murder.

“You already are.” Hoseok squeezed your hand and stared into your eyes. The feelings he had just looking at you was hard to contain. He would give anything to kiss you again and have you as his, but he knew you wouldn't believe the time was right.

“Thank you.” You stared back at him with an almost equal amount of love and care. You were on your way to the right time. He just knew it.

“I'm sorry that I ever left you.” Hoseok blurted out as you began shaking your head.

You stopped him from speaking any further, “I'm glad you did.” You cut him off, “I needed this all to happen to be who I am now.” You smiled a bit, “It's clichè to say, I know, but before yesterday I considered not taking this job just because I was scared people would be mean.” You mused, “But I lived and at some point loved a man who literally wanted me dead, so what more could a disgruntled coworker or a mean boss do to me?” You picked at the pasta briefly, “I was much too spoiled before all of this. Everything I had was handed to me.”

Hoseok's face scrunched up, “You're the most hardworking person I know.” He spoke up, “You work for everything you get and you still deserve more than that.” 

“These past two years, I would wake up and feel ashamed for breathing.” You felt the pressure in your eyes, “I felt bad that I was still alive because I was causing all of this trouble.”

“None of that was your fault.” Hoseok gripped your hand tightly, “You were not the bad guy in that situation.”

“And logically, I know that, but it just gets to you after a while. Except for today,” You finally looked up at Hoseok and beamed just a little, “I woke up and I didn't even notice the pain, I looked out the window and saw a beautiful day. You smiled at me and everything was okay.” You watched as his signature smile grew, “I wasn't just an abuse victim, for the first time, I felt like a survivor.”

“You are.” He confirmed with and encouraging squeeze.

“And if being one means all this shit had to happen, so be it.” You affirmed to both Hoseok and yourself, “These next few days are gonna be rough, but Dr. Lin says I'm getting better at shaking his hand without shaking the rest of my body.” You giggled a bit before looking at your hand, Hoseok stroking the tan line where your ring used to be.

“The moment you feel uncomfortable, come home.” Hoseok pleaded, “You told them what happened, right?”

You sighed with a nod, “Yeah, they got the emails Dr. Lin drafted and they were actually really kind about it.”

“Good, but even if they weren't, you could work with me.” He offered for the millionth time and you rolled your eyes, “I know, I know, I just want to make sure you're safe and happy and eating right and hydrated and-”

“I am capable of doing so by myself too.” You pointed your fork at him, “I really appreciate you, Hobi, but you have to trust me.” 

Hoseok rested his case in favor of how happy you looked to start this mysterious new job and the fact that his old nickname slipped from your lips for the first time in years. You knew how to play him like a fiddle and had no idea. The last thing he would want was for you to hate him so he even opted to not research you to figure out what your job was. All you said was that you were freelance before they hired you which gave him nothing.

The next morning you woke up at the crack of dumb. In the mirror, you checked your tongue, the wound healed and the uncomfortable stitches you had a week ago fully dissolved. The whole incident felt like a distant nightmare now. All marks from it fully healed, and now only the scars remained. 

You heard Hoseok walking down the stairs, most likely to start the coffee before making breakfast. You had been staying in his guest room, for the time being, your bathroom was in the hall and he could see the light under the door, indicating you were awake. He had offered you the other bedroom with its own bathroom, but you wanted to get used to leaving your room a little more. 

It had been a long while since you put on makeup with a motivation revolving around self-care and confidence as opposed to masking clumps of busted vessels and capillaries lingering beneath your skin. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face as you applied eyeliner and checked your work in the mirror. There was something therapeutic about painting your face with a much lighter intent. You were excited, and for the first time in a while, you could feel your nerves buzzing and the butterflies in your stomach blooming from their cocoon. 

You also hadn't put this much effort into your hair this entire time. Hoseok would sometimes brush your hair after a shower, mostly out of habit from when both your hands had been wrapped up. However, beyond that, it was kept in its natural state, which you figured was mediocre at best when paired with your naked and bruised face at the time. Hoseok always talked about how beautiful you were, but this was the first time in a while you felt anywhere close to it.

There were no bruises on your face, your dark circles were not even half the horror they used to be, you didn't even have to slather foundation and concealer in an effort to cover an open wound. Your face had never felt so soft, scabs no longer present. You looked at your finished look and squealed to yourself. You looked nice. Your clothes were also stylish, in typical Hoseok fashion, he had surprised you with a new wardrobe beyond all protests, and you couldn't deny how nice it all looked on you. You had called him ridiculous for approaching you with a measuring tape, but the fit was no joke with how it hugged your figure.

“Breakfast is ready!” He called from downstairs and you smiled, excited to show him how you looked.

You nearly pranced down the stairs and to the kitchen to see Hobi with his back turned, getting coffee, “Oh y/n, did you want-” He turned around and was met with the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, “Holy shit.”

To him, you were always beautiful, but you were glowing this time due to your chipper mood. You smiled brightly at him as he took in your appearance. From the stylish high waisted black slacks with a flowy lavender blouse. The black pumps you had only accentuated your confident stature. Your face had light traces of makeup, but it had been growing to be more and more radiant. He took note of the necklaces you wore to compliment your skin complexion. Everything you were fit you so well, his mind was plagued by sinful thoughts of taking them off.

You weren't holding up well either. Hoseok was stunning no matter what, but this was the first time in a long time you had seen him in a suit. His hair was styled perfectly with his brown hair tousled in waves. His suit was well-fitting and the dress shirt managed to outline his muscles. The rings he had on next to his watch made you weak in the knees for some inexplicable reason. The glasses he wore only added to his sugar daddy aesthetic. Were you a gold digger or in love with this man?

You blinked away the question once you registered his profanity, “Is that a good holy shit?” You teased as you sat in front of the plate he set on the table.

“You're a goddess.” He groaned and you giggled, while he walked over with two coffee cups.

“And you're exaggerating.” You poked his nose before picking up your fork, catching sight at the tan line on your ring finger.

Hoseok watched your smile drop a little, “Y/n, are you alright?” His face showed very evident worry.

You looked up, snapping out of your trance, “Yeah, just this dumb tanline.” You huffed, “It's so blatant.”  You held up your hand to Hoseok, although he knew about the line all too well.

“I can put a ring on your finger.” You choked on your coffee at Hoseok's blunt words, “Y/n!” He made a move to stand and help you but you shook your head as you coughed.

“People will think I'm engaged.” You regained composure, “They'll ask me all kinds of questions.”

Hoseok would be lying if he said that was a bad thing. This would keep any intruders into your relationship with him away. This would keep you closer to him. He shrugged, “Engaged or not,” He placed a quaint box on the table, “I already bought the ring so…” He pushes the box toward you with a cheeky smile, “It's winter now, so you can just wear it until it fades.”

You chuckle as you take the box, “This might be more romantic than my proposal.” You joked, “He spelled it out in roses with candles around it.”

“You hate roses.” Hoseok pointed out and you nodded with an eye roll, “You know what?” He grabbed the blue velvet box and went around the table. Before you could ask what he was doing, he knelt down on one knee, taking your hand, “Y/n L/n, will you stay with me?”

You giggled, “I would be honored.” He beamed at you as he opened the box to reveal and black diamond with two smaller traditional ones on each side with a silver band which he slid on your finger, “I used to dream about this in high school.” You admired the ring, “I had a whole dream board for our future wedding.” 

Hoseok chuckled at this, “You really loved me, huh?”

You frowned as he stood to go back to his side of the table. Without thinking you gripped his hand, making him turn back to you, “I'll always love you, Hobi.” The words jumped out of your mouth before you could even consider the weight they held and the terrible timing it was. Your ex wasn't even in prison yet. His sentencing had yet to come and here you were like a blushing schoolgirl pining after Hoseok all over again.

Hoseok, on the other hand, was over the moon. He knew it, but to hear you say it was a new experience in and of itself. You were almost there. Almost ready for him to have you. For you to have him. He saw the worry creep on you face and then dissolve when he gripped your hand back, “And I, you.” He simply said before kissing your knuckles and then returning to his seat.

When it came time for you to go via the driver Hoseok insisted on you having, he hugged you tightly, “Call me if you feel anything other than excitement.” He let out a shaky breath before letting you go from his embrace to grip your shoulders, “Text me whenever you can just how you feel, okay?”

You smiled at him reassuringly, “If I get a papercut, I'll let you know the moment I put a bandage on.” You proclaimed dramatically and Hoseok whined, “I will call you if I need to, okay?” He nodded, “Do you trust me?” Another nod. You cupped his face before bringing it down to kiss his forehead softly. When he lifted his face it was dusted with a light brush, “Have a good day at work.” 

Hoseok took the chance to kiss your forehead this time, “You have the greatest day at work.” He spoke softly and you nodded before exiting through the front door.

Coming back to work was always a sore spot for him, but now that he had you back, it felt even worse. He was already missing you. On top of that, Jiyeon had quit so he had to be his own secretary for a while. He wondered how Taehyung did it for so long. Due to this new workload, he had no idea what his schedule was.

Hoseok looked up as he heard a knock on the glass door of his office. He always kept the blinds down, so he blindly let the visitor in with a call. Namjoon emerged with an exasperated look on his face, “You forgot, didn't you?” When he received Hoseok's response if an eyebrow raise he sighed, “Our fully recovered CEO is having a meeting with all the department heads with our newly wrangled Behavioral Scientist.” An ignorant blink, “The dude is like your new right-hand man Mr. Director of Human Resources.” 

“Oh right!” Hoseok stood, “Our expert in body language for sitting in on interviews.” He nodded, “What's his name again?”

Namjoon shrugged, “Who knows, but CEO Kim said he read her like a diary she was so impressed.” He smirked, “Maybe he’ll smell what an HR nightmare you are right off the bat.”

Hoseok walked over to the door Namjoon stood in the way of, “Hey, hey, I'm a changed man, remember?” He walked out of his office with his colleague, “I have all I need at home.”

His friends teasing tone dissipated as he remembered the shaking girl he encountered just a week ago, “Oh, that's right, how is she?” Namjoon asked, genuinely concerned.

“Better.” Hoseok smiled at his friend, “She starts her new job today, and she's been doing a lot better.”

Namjoon nodded, “When we all met her, she did real well.” He sighed, “Not sure how anyone would ever want to hurt her, but that guy's as good as dead anyway.”

“That much I made sure of.” Hoseok confirmed.

“Jeez, you sound like Tae and Jimin.” Namjoon laughed.

“Just you wait until it's your turn.” Hoseok teased as they reached the conference room to be met with the other five of his friends which was weird since three of them were not higher-ups in the company.

“And I thought this was a director only meeting.” Namjoon mused.

“She said she wanted her favorite boys here.” Taehyung smiled, “This new hire seems to have her struck, said she sees em as another child already.”

“She's too caring for her own good sometimes, watch this dude be some discount medium who claims he can read aura's.” Yoongi scoffed.

“She's not one to be wowed by parlor tricks.” Jin pointed out.

“She has been on morphine for the past couple days though.” Jungkook pointed out.

“You guys give her no credit.” Jimin sighed, “She's still a businesswoman.”

“But she's also a human who extended Hoseok's holiday leave because so that he could stay with his angel.” Yoongi chimed back in.

“Well, I'm excited nonetheless.” Hoseok sat down as Namjoon did before hearing the door open.

CEO Kim walked in with a warm smile, “Hello, boys!” The old woman in her late 60's cheered and was met with a chorus of greetings, “Lovely of you all to make it here. I've been healing just fine before you ask.” She looked at Taehyung in particular, “Gonna take more than some kidney surgery to get me down.” She joked with a light giggle, “Anyways, I'm absolutely pleased to introduce our new addition to HR as the Employment Analyst," She looked out the door, “Come on in, dear.”

You walked through the door, palms already warm. You looked down for a moment, “Good morning!” You lifted your head only to be met with awfully familiar faces, “Oh my.”

“Y/n!” Jungkook was the first to chirp as the other men were completely floored.

The CEO smiled cheerfully, “You know her? Perfect!” She clasped her hands, “My dear here has had a rough adjustment, so do make her feel welcome!” You graciously smiled at the sweet old woman.

“H-Hey guys.” You twiddled your thumbs, “Fancy meeting you here.” You smiled weakly. 

“Y/n, here is a student and is here to help our HR find and keep only the best of the best.” The CEO beamed brightly, “Anyways, she will be working will be working for Mr. Jung.”

You looked at Hoseok and he gave you his signature smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

After the meeting was adjourned, Hoseok made his way to you with the same smile he had before, "You're fantastic." He patted your head affectionately and you giggled.

"You're too much." You stuck your tongue out, "I'm going to go set up my office." You smiled before exiting the conference room with quaint smiles and bows to the remaining 6 other men in the room. The company was eccentric, to say the least, but at least you had familiar faces to rely on.

"You know, you are surprisingly relaxed." Yoongi mused, catching Hoseok's attention.

Hoseok was even then, only partly paying attention as he was caught up in his lovelorn bliss, "Well, of course, why wouldn't I be?" He sighed.

The other men exchanged looks, "Do you not know your reputation?" This snatched Hoseok back to Earth.

"Yeah, she's definitely going to find out," Jungkook added, earning a glare.

Even so, Hoseok knew the men were right. You would not be pleased to find out about his promiscuity, especially in the workplace. You would have every right to be angry, but he still hoped you would understand that he was only trying to fill a void he created by abandoning you. He was a new man.

"That, plus you have secretaries to interview today." Taehyung chimed in, "My darling was kind enough to call them in after Jiyeon called me, hysterical, before quitting." He shot a glare to Hoseok.

"Actually, I think y/n's first task is to interview said, ladies." Namjoon fought the emerging smile on his face as Hoseok nearly went pale.

Jimin spoke this time, "Hobi?" He caught the man's attention, "Run."

Needing no further instruction, he made a dash for the elevator.

"Oh, hello." You caught the attention of a beautiful chestnut-haired woman, "Can I help you?" You smiled at her as you carried a box to your office adjacent to Hoseok's.

She scanned your form before letting her guard down. You should've been offended by how quickly she wrote you off as a non-threat, but you let it go, "I'm looking for Jung Hoseok." She flashed you a smile, a very fake one judging by the stiffness in her face.

You shook off the insecurity planting itself in your psyche before it could latch, "He's in a meeting, but I'm a new worker in this department so I could-"

"They hired you?!" She quickly cut you off, "I didn't even get a chance to interview yet, and they gave the assistant position to you?!" She threw her hands up before her eyes landed on the ring you were, "Wow, are taken women his thing, or something?" She sneered. You felt your throat close in panic and rage all at once. You watched in hidden horror as her face seemed to morph into Minyoung's. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and replaced it with a quaint smile, a very fake one, "Actually, I'm the new Employment Analyst." You quipped, "I believe I'm your interviewer in fact." The woman went pale, "I'm still setting up my office, but you are very punctual, I'll give you that." You smiled at her, "I am nothing if not fair, so if you would like to take a seat while I set up, I'll be right with you." You gestured to the chairs outside the door to your office and she took the seat slowly. You closed the door behind you, stalking to your desk to place the box on top of the mahogany only to slump down into a crouched position with an exasperated sigh.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in, blowing it out through pursed lips to prevent yourself from hyperventilating, "Get it together." You curse yourself. It had maybe been 10 minutes and you were already hiding under your desk, "Fuck, why did I think I could do this?" You closed your eyes in defeat when the door slammed open, startling you.

"Y/n!" Hoseok's voice caused you to internally panic and hit your head under the desk.

"Shit!" You scolded the pain, "I-Is my interviewee still out there?" You wondered aloud as Hoseok rushed to your side.

"I sent them home." He sighed before lifting you to sit on your chair and wordlessly began to guide you through your breathing, just as he had a million times before, just as he had when you were still in high school and especially in the last month.

You worked through the breathing and felt yourself seethe. You were more frustrated than angry, but still angry. Why did this random girl affect you so terribly? Why did Hoseok send her home? Why couldn't you just keep it the fuck together?

"Well, I suggest you leave," You sighed out as your chest rose and fell at its usual pace, "I have more coming."

"You can just cancel them." Hoseok shook his head at the thought of you interviewing a shamefully specific demographic of women he hired, "I want to find the candidates on my own." 

You studied his face. His lips were pursed, eyes were looking at your cheek, not eyes, and his grip on your shoulder had noticeably stiffened. Your face scrunched in disappointment, "Why? It seems they all fit your credentials." You spat, more bitter than you intended before sighing again as silence befell the two of you. You shut your eyes for a moment to gather your thoughts before opening them halfway to look down at your hands clasped together tightly, "I can't do it again, Hoseok." You muttered softly, "I'm not stupid, I know what you do in this office, but I can't do that again."

He met your eyes this time, obviously worried, "What do you mean?" His brows furrowed.

"Be the afterthought." You bit out, "I will not compete with all these women and end up…" exactly like yourself. You swallowed your last words because they would hurt the both of you too much.

"Angel, I would never-"

"Just go, okay?" You forced yourself to say, not looking at him, "It's my first day of work and we've already breached professionalism." You breathed out with your lips pursed, "I have interviews to do." You looked at Hoseok and he didn't meet your eyes as he left, dejected.

The interviews went terribly for both parties you would say. Most of these women had no experience being an Administrative LLP Assistant and if they did, they walked out on their last jobs. A lot of the women were quite kind, after noticeably sizing you up, but then you had some women who thought they could interview you as well. It was awfully reminiscent of when you first encountered Minyoung. 

By the end of the interviews, you felt like your eyes were beginning to cross as your tongue began to sting. It wasn't a real sting. This much was confirmed when your neck also began to sting and you let out a shaky breath. You stared at the excel sheet of employee evaluations and found yourself wondering if you would be able to work at home.

You shook off the very fantasy since you barely had a home to begin with. You needed to look for a place. Your heart squeezed at the thought and you put your hand on your chest. You felt stupid for wanting to leave Hoseok, but you also felt stupid for wanting to stay with a man who had such a specific and insatiable taste. 

The day dragged on and you actively avoided Hoseok when your lunch rolled around. You opted for a granola bar at your desk and it was just as indignifying as you thought it would be. Your job turned out to be mostly excel sheets and productivity reports and it wasn't until Hoseok knocked on your door that you realized it was time to go home- Hoseok's home.

The car ride was painfully and noticeably silent in the beginning. You didn't look at Hoseok and he couldn't bear to meet your eyes as the driver even looked uncomfortable. It wasn't until you realized you were at Hoseok's place that you even moved.

You dragged your feet to the door as the day's event swirled in your head. The women reminded you scarily of yourself, pining after someone who would never pine after them. Some of them were rings too and you wondered if it was because their home life was like yours had been. Had they just wanted to feel desired for once? Who are you to judge them when your ex is piecing together the life your ex-fiance destroyed. How are you any better than them with Hoseok? 

Even if you love him, it doesn't mean he loves you or doesn't plan on finding more thrilling endeavors outside of the lovely little home he keeps you at just like Sookwang had.

The bile in your throat pushed itself against you at the very thought and when Hoseok opened the door, you ran to the bathroom, hand over your mouth.

He quickly ran after you only to see you on your knees in front of the toilet as you heaved a cried. Immediately, he held back your hair as you hurled your guts, thoughts, fears, and sadness out of your body after holding them in for a day. It hadn't been the first time you've thrown up with Hoseok present, so he knew exactly how to clean you up as you cried.

However, this time, you gripped his dress shirt, surely causing wrinkles, and looked at him, "Please don't leave me." Your bottom lip quivered, "I can't, I can't be alone, I'm so sorry." You cried into his chest as he rocked you back and forth, "You're-You're all I…" You let out another sob

"I'm all you have." He mused and you nodded, "Just as you are all I have." You hiccuped and he kissed your head, "I've loved you for years, I will not be stopping, whether you like it or not." He stroked your hair as he closed your eyes.

He should kill Sookwang. He's never been so sure of himself. Hoseok clutched you closer to him as you shook violently. He should kill Sookwang for not only hurting you but for making you so distrusting of everyone, even him. The love of your life. Sookwang instead would spend his life in prison- or lack of life. It was merciful, Hoseok should rip him to shreds and let you do the same to Minyoung. However, the only thing more important than doing that was having you as his, at last.

He was all you had finally. It would remain that way.

After an hour of breathing exercises and mouthwash, you were in your bedroom. You stared up at the ceiling and yet, all you could see was Hoseok's face. You cursed yourself for this. It was like you were back in high school again. You were embarrassed by how easily you fell for him again especially after what Sookwang did. You closed your eyes and moted how warm you felt just thinking about all Hoseok has done for you. 

You weren't an idiot. You had dated him before. You knew he was terrified of a commitment then, but now, it almost seemed as if he craved it. It was a complete turnaround. It wasn't healthy. Logically, you knew that, right? You knew that this connection was obsessive on a good day, but he made you feel so safe. Your first day at work went terribly and you had just wished to go home to Hoseok's loving arms. Instead, your mind had morphed him into Sookwang.

Hoseok was the opposite, however. Sookwang had been sheltered and starved, so he settled for you as a wife and other women as a lover. Hoseok, however merely settled for one night stands in search of stability. He was loving and attentive, maybe a little too much. Even so, he hadn't brought home any women, or left your side, in the past month. He only ever seemed to look at you while you tried to assess your situation. 

You weren't ready for a relationship, you thought. But how the hell do you know what's good for you? 

Look at your past logical decisions, such as getting engaged. Maybe Hoseok knew what's best for you. Maybe you knew that wasn't healthy. Maybe you didn't care.

If you were going to regret this, you were going to have to do it first.

You sat up, letting the covers fall off your body as you ripped them off your legs. Before you could even begin to dissect your mindset, your legs carried you in front of Hoseok's door. It was already in the evening. You wondered if he was going to make dinner or leave you alone for the night. Should you not bother him? You shook your head before bringing your wrist up to knock on the door.

It had been the softest knocks Hoseok had heard in his life. His eyebrows scrunched together. Had he forgotten the cleaning lady was coming today? He could've sworn she comes Tuesday mornings?

"Come in." He nodded towards the closed door as it opened ever so cautiously.

He immediately sat up as soon as he saw it was you, "Hey, Hobi." You smiled at him shyly. 

Hoseok visibly relaxed as he gestured with a flick of his wrist for you to come near him. You walked over to his bed, "Sorry to intrude." You offered wearily, as he guided you to sit next to him, "I just…" You drew in a breath, as his arm wrapped around your waist Before I say anything, I just need to know what you want." His head tilted to the side in confusion now laying down next to his seated form and you groaned in frustration, "Do you...want me?" You forced out and it seemed he finally understood what you were trying to figure out. He leaned over you with a smile.

"I love you if that's what you're getting at." Your breath hitched at his boldness, "Don't act like you didn't know."

It was your turn to be confused as the man of your teenage and adult dreams leaned over you with a satisfied smirk, "You only said it that one time and I didn't think that you…" You avoided eye contact, "Would want used goods." 

He gripped your chin in an instant for you to see his jaw clenched and stern eyes, "I wish you could see what I see." He closed his eyes, letting his irritation diffuse as he leaned closer to you, "What no one else deserves to see." He hovered over your lips.

You were hypnotized by the passion and found yourself left with no option but to grip both sides of his face and bring him down to you. His lips connected with yours slowly at first but it quickly grew into a frenzied expression of how starved you both were to be craved by the other. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his wrapped around your waist. He moved you to where he was laid in between your legs and you gasped when his pelvis had accidentally brushed against yours. 

Hoseok broke away from the kiss for a moment, lips swollen and chest heaving, "Fuck, baby, I better go get dinner started before we end up doing something that-"

You pouted at this, causing Hoseok to immediately halt at the sight, "Hobi," You whined as you gripped his bicep, "Don't you want me?" You batted your eyelashes at him as his resolve crumbled.

"More than anything, angel." He was quick to say as he dipped his head down to place light kisses on your neck.

"So show me." You breathed and it was like something snapped in him.

He gripped your hip with a determined squeeze as his mouth opened eider to harshly suck the skin of your neck between his teeth. You groaned at the sensation, heat quickly pooling between your thighs. The hand on your hip reached up as he began to unbutton the lavender blouse. He had never touched you like this before, so when the shirt left you open, only a bra of the same color shielding you, he had to pull back to look at you for a moment. He studied every mole, freckle, or mark he could see as he slipped the shirt from your shoulders. He kissed down your stomach as he made quick work of the slacks he bought you, nearly salivating at how close he was to your clothed entrance. 

You arched your back, obedient as ever when his hands caressed your waist, sliding behind to unhook your bra. He let out a shaky breath when your top half became full bare. His hands gripped them both, softly pinching both nipples as you let out a mewl that spurred him to lean down, taking one of the buds into his mouth, tongue encircling it as your back arched again while you let out a whine. The sensation of his mouth and hands shooting straight to the area where you wanted them most. He let his teeth graze the bud before sucking and you could no longer suppress the moan that was clawing at your throat. He let the nipple go with a lewd pop as he studied your body again before moving to caress your hips and thighs. He watched the flesh squish under his touch and you squirmed a bit, "So fucking beautiful." He breathed, transfixed by your nearly bare body.

"Hobi." You whined, as his eyes wen to your heated face. Your bottom lip was caught in your teeth as your thighs shifted beneath him.

"Yes, my love?" He mused as he slid the last piece of fabric you had down your legs, watching as your pussy became exposed to him. Your breath hitched when he spread your legs as his fingers went to spread you, "Do you want me to taste you?" He hummed, mouth mere millimeters away from your opening.

You pet out a breathy moan at the anticipation, "Yes, yes, please." You huffed out only for the very breath to be stolen as his tongue dove at your sex like a man starved. 

Hoseok had never expected you to be so needy, each time his tongue moved you would whine out, wanting more and more. Never did he fine eating someone out to be so erotic as he did with his hands keeping you in place as your upper body twisted in pleasure. You would squeak when his tongue would dance around your hole, tempting him to finally plunge it in. He felt how tight you were and was instantly addicted to the feeling of you around him. He fucked you with his tongue as he let you move your hips to meet the thrusts of the muscle. He almost brought a hand to play with your clit but opted to make you cum with his mouth alone.

You had never been eaten out like this before. You could hardly keep up with Hoseok or the sensations he gave you as he entered you with his tongue. Never in your life have you felt so euphoric, the sensation sent tingles down your body and straight to your clit which he flicked with a stiffened tongue before you could even blink. A long-forgotten coil began to tighten in the pit of your stomach as he spread you as wide as you could go, his hands on your knees as he sucked on your clit, tongue still ruthless as it explored your pussy. You could hear him nearly slurp. You normally would be embarrassed, but all you could feel was what Hoseok gave you, and you wanted more. 

As if he read your mind, Hoseok began a ruthless rhythm of long-stroke that brought you closer and closer each time until you let loose with a scream of pleasure, your body shaking as you came. Hoseok placed a kiss on your clit that made your hips jump, "Hobi, fuck me." You breathed out, chest heaving as you crept down from the enormous high. The man hesitated, fully intent on letting you rest and taking care of himself in the bathroom. He was ready to tell you this until you let out another cute whine, "Please, babe, I want you to make love to me." You whined out and how could he possibly say no?

"I can't say no to you, baby, that's not fair." He spoke, eyes lidded as he stripped himself at lighting speed, moving his length along your slit as he groaned lowly at the contact. When he pressed the head against your entrance and you moaned lightly he nearly blew his load. By the time he slid all the way in, he had to take a moment to collect his thoughts. He looked down at you, eyes barely open and mouth panting. He then watched himself as he slid slowly in and out, his hardened member eventually all the way in your tight walls, "You're so beautiful." He groaned as he set a slow pace, "I love you so much." He leant down to kiss you as he fucked you gently and when you moaned into his mouth he couldn't help but speed up.

"Hobi." You moaned out sweetly for him as he fucked you, "Feels so good." You gasped out as your hands went to press him closer to you as he ground deeper into, more desperate. You could feel the bed shaking as he sped up more and more, calculated thrusts now becoming sloppy as you could feel another orgasm on the edge of breaking free.

He could tell you were close to as you squeezed him, "You gonna cum again for me, angel?" You gasped, nearly squealing as you squeezed around him, cumming hard enough to send him over the edge, "Fuck, fuck!" He moaned in pure ecstasy as he came inside of you, riding out the highs you both shared.

"I love you." You mumbled through tired lips pressed against his ears. He slowly slid out of you and that's as far as you remember before passing out.

You woke up with soft lips against your shoulder as the early morning peeked through the curtains. Your eyes slowly opened as they flicked around to find Hoseok in your peripherals, "Oh, you're awake." He mumbled, mouth still trailing over your bare skin.

"Mmph." You murmured, turning over, "Good morning." You placed a lazy kiss on his toned chest as you nuzzled into him.

The sleepy chuckle he let out vibrated in his chest, "What do you say we work from home today, hm?" 

Your eyes snapped open immediately as you shot up, "Work! I forgot!" You exclaimed as your eyes darted across the room looking for a clock, "I can't just not come in on my second day I-"

"Baby-"

"I must look like such a slacker! I can't believe I-"

"Angel, I-"

"How did I not set my alarms before I just went to sleep all willy nilly?! It's mmph-" Soft lips landed on your own as you melted into the kiss in spite of your moment of panic. His lips massaged yours until he felt your naked form relax on his own. 

This was all he needed. He was all you needed. This moment was the epitome of what it meant to be reborn in the arms of someone else. It was always meant to be this way. He was an idiot for thinking you were anything less than his soulmate. He was a fool for looking for comfort when he should've been looking for you all these years.

Once he felt your body fully depend on him, he broke the kiss ever so slowly, "It's 6:00am." He mumbled against your mouth, "I'm offering to have us both work from home today, so I can let the office know I will be conducting your orientation off-site." The smirk that twinkled on the corner of his mouth did not go unnoticed by you before you nodded. 

You watched with twinkling eyes as Hoseok made the call. You laid your head on his bare chest as you heard the rumble of his deep voice making orders to accommodate for his absence, "Hobi," You murmured when he hung up the phone, "Were you ever expecting to see me again?"

The hand he had stroking your hair faltered as his heart sank at the mention of the past. He was an idiot to be scared enough to ruin things with you. He was a fool to deny himself the bliss of loving you back, "No, not at first." He spoke honestly, "But I missed you every day." You smiled at this while he stroked your hair, "Something was missing in my life, and I tried to find it in other women when I was too scared to look for you."

"Oh, I hated you so much." You stifled a laugh.

"You said you could never!" Hoseok huffed as you leaned your head up to look at his pouting face.

"Not real hate, babe." You smiled softly, "I mean heartbreak hate." You mused, "I never wanted to see you again, but I never stopped wondering about you, and when I moved to South Korea, and especially when I was with… you know, I let my mind wander to how we could've been." 

"Well, it's me and you now and forever, angel." He placed a kiss on your forehead, "Nothing will ever come between us again, not even ourselves." Hoseok spoke with determination you were smart enough to know the implications of. Not that you had plans to ever leave, but even if you had they would be for naught. You knew his power. You were sure he only scratched the surface with Sookwang. It should scare you.

"I know you won't let it, even if anything tried." You breathed, blissful as he pulled you in for a passionate kiss. It wasn't healthy how he thrilled you. How much you loved being so secure in his arms, even if he was also securing you within his clutches. Chains or not, they were much too comfortable for you to object. You had the autonomy you wanted. You had everything you needed at the snap of a finer. Sookwang gave you hell and Hoseok led you to the pearly gates.

You weren't dumb enough to overlook the resounding clink as you were locked in heaven with the man you loved. 

The very man who finally loved you back.

Ko-fi

Masterlist

[thehollowprince]

Civil War Fixit #4

Parts One, Two, and Three (updated for easier browsing)

Notes: sorry for the long wait, but, as many of you know... life happens. Plus, ever since Endgame, I've been less than enthused about this whole universe. My love for Steve has diminished, but I still remember what was and what should have been, so here we go.

I didn't really feel like doing all of the action sequences, because I feel like the most character growth happens in those "In Between" scenes, so this takes place after the Winter Soldier was activated by Zemo and the escape from the CIA facility. It picks up just before the airport battle.

Steve, Sam and Bucky sat silently in the old Beetle, waiting for their reinforcements to show up.

Bucky eventually broke the silence. "So who's the girl?"

"Buck." Steve sighed.

"What?" Bucky asked. "Its a fair question from your old best friend." The super soldier reasoned. "This girl violates a dozen laws, steals our equipment back and you lay one on her. And judging by both of your expressions, that was the first time you two did that."

"Did I ever tell you how creepy it is that you analyze everything now?" Steve rebuttaled.

"No." Bucky plowed forward. "She must be a pretty special girl."

"You've no idea." Sam muttered under his breath.

"Sam." Steve said with a warning in his tone.

"What?" Sam fired back. "She is a special girl. You two spent the last two years dancing around each other and now is when you decide to make a move? When we're wanted criminals?" Sam huffed. "You really do have horrible timing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, first you kiss Peggy back in the day."

"You and Peggy kissed?" Bucky interrupted.

"Yeah, just before he flew a plane into the Arctic." Sam said.

"And now you finally make a move on Sharon, just before we're going to break a whole mess of international laws?" Bucky questioned. "Sam's right, you do have bad timing."

"Oh, and we didn't even get to the part where Sharon is Peggy's niece."

"Sam!" Steve was exasperated.

Bucky, for his part, just looked from Sam to Steve and back again, unsure if this was some kind of joke or not. Thankfully, Steve was saved from any more of this awkward conversation by the arrival of a big, white, serial-killer style van.

"Oh, look, backup's here." Steve said and immediately exited the vehicle to greet the driver, who was none other than Clint Barton.

Bucky stared after his old friend before turning to look at Sam with an incredulous look.  “Her niece?”

“Yeah.” Sam sighed.  “Though, to be fair, we didn’t know that until yesterday.”  He then opened the car door and exited the vehicle.

Outside, Steve approached Clint and shook hands with his old teammate.  “Thanks for coming.”

“Cap.”

“You know I wouldn’t have called if I had any other choice.”

“Hey man, you’re doing me a favor.” Clint waved off Steve’s Steveness.  Behind him, Wanda climbed out of the passenger seat.  “Besides, I owe a debt.”

“Thanks for having my back.” Steve nodded at her.

“It was time to get off my ass.” Wanda replied. Her attention was diverted to behind Steve’s broad shoulders to where Sam was struggling to hold in his laughter, phone in hand as Bucky attempted to navigate his way out of the back seat.  This video would definitely go viral.

“What about our other recruit?”

“He’s rarin’ to go.” Clint answered, walking back to the van and slid the side open, revealing a passed out Scott Lang laying on the seat.  The moment the door was all the way open, rocking the van, Scott jolted awake.  “Had to put a little coffee in him, but...” He looked at Scott, who seemed confused as to where he was.  “... he should be good to go.”

“What time zone are we in?” Scott asked as he yawned and stretched, sliding out of the van to place his feet on solid ground.  He steps forward, ignoring the weird tingles in his legs indicating they were waking up, and immediately accepted the hand presented to him, without really realizing who it was attached to.  That is, until he realized who’s hand he was shaking and just kind of gaped at the man.  “Captain America.”  He looked both amazed and dumbfounded at the same time.

“Mr. Lang.” Steve replied, his hand still in Scott’s grip, but too polite to pull back on his own.

“It’s an honor.” Scott was still shaking Steve’s hand, and only now seemed to realize it.  “I’m shaking your hand way too long.”  Despite saying that, he continued to shake the hand in his grasp.  “Wow, this is awesome!  Captain America.”  He seemed to realize what he was doing and stopped shaking Steve’s hand, looking around him at the other people assembled in a parking garage, his eyes landing on Wanda.  “I know you, too.  You’re great. My daughter loves you.”  Wanda smiled in return as Scott turned back to Steve again, feeling up the super soldier’s epic shoulders.  “Jeez.”

Scott snapped out of his hero-worship and stepped back, hands to himself.

“Ah, look, I wanna say, I know you know a lot of super people, so... thanks for thinking of me.”  He spotted Sam over Steve’s incredibly broad shoulders.  “Hey, man!”

“What’s up, Tic Tac?”

“Uh, about what happened last time...”

“It was a nice audition, but it... it won’t happen again.” Sam said firmly.

“What happened last time?” Steve found himself asking.

“Well, you see, I, uh...” Scott started, only to be interrupted by Sam.

“It’s not important.”

Steve looked between the two, Sam staring firmly at Scott, who looked a bit sheepish.  “... okay?”  He turned back to Scott. “They tell you what we’re up against?”

“Something about... psycho-assassins?” Scott supplied, not sounding entirely sure.

“We're outside the law on this one. So, if you come with us, you're a wanted man.” Steve said, laying everything on the line from the beginning.

“Yeah, well, what else is new?” Scott said with a shrug. 

“We should get going.” Bucky supplied, finally free from the metal death-trap.

“We’ve got a chopper all lined up.” Clint said.

A voice speaking in German sounded over the loud speakers in the garage, with Bucky looking up first, “They’re evacuating the airport.”

“Stark.” Sam said with a sigh.

“Stark?” Scott questioned.

“Suit up.” Steve commanded.

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

Steve, now all suited up in his Captain America uniform, jogged across an eerily vacant tarmac toward the chopper that Clint had pointed out.  His eyes scanned back and forth, knowing that Tony and Rhodey and who knows who else was with them was lurking around here somewhere.  Less than ten meters to the chopper and some sort of electro-doohickey that he didn’t understand landed on the machine, frying the engine and rendering it useless.  Steve skidded to a stop and watched as Tony and Rhodey, Iron Man and War Machine descended from the sky.

“Wow, it's so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don't you think that's weird?” Tony joked, always with the quips, even in a serious situation, because he obviously didn’t know how to read the room... so to speak.

“Definitely weird.” Rhodey agreed, always following Tony’s lead.

“Hear me out, Tony.” Steve interjected, trying to talk sense into his former teammates.  “That doctor, the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this.”

To his left, T’Challa jumped over a parked truck and landed in a crouch before standing up to his full height in his black vibranium suit. “Captain.”

“Your highness.”

“Anyway, Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?” Tony announced, retracting the helmet of his suit so he could talk to Steve face to face.

“We’re not brothers.” Steve countered.  “We’re not even friends.”

“Hmm.” Tony huffed.

“You’re after the wrong guy.” Steve tried to reason with him.

“Your judgment is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday.”

“And there are five more super soldiers just like him.” Steve tried to explain.  “If you would just shut up and listen to me, I could explain.”  Tony’s face darkened.  “I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't.”

“Steve... you know what’s about to happen.” Rhodey said, retracting his own helmet.  “Do you really want to try and punch your way out of this one?”

“Wait.” Natasha walked up, dolled out in her own tactical gear.  “What do you mean there are five more?”

“Alright, I’ve run out of patience.” Tony said.  “Underoos!”  Steve was obviously confused for a moment, until he saw a shadow flip over him.  His shield was wrenched from his hands, which were suddenly tied together with some kind of material he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know what it was.  Looking up, he saw a man in a red and blue costume with a web-like pattern, his shield in this person’s hand.  “Nice job, kid.”

“ Thanks. Well, I could've stuck the landing a little better. It's just the new suit… Well, it's nothing, Mr. Stark. It's--it's perfect. Thank you.” Steve’s eyes narrowed the more he listened to this man - this boy - talk.  On Tony’s side, Natasha’s expression was similar.

“Yeah, we don't really need to start a conversation.”

“ Okay. Cap . . . Captain. Big fan, I'm Spider-Man.” He saluted Steve.

“Yeah, we'll talk about it later. Just...”

“Hey, everyone.” Spider-Man waved at the assembled heroes.

“... Good job.” Tony finished.

“You’ve been busy.” Steve said icily, his glare directed solely at Tony.

“And you've been a complete idiot.” Tony fired back.  “Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place.” Steve snorted at that.  “I'm trying to keep . . . I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.”

“You did that when you signed.” Cap retorted.  “And when you dragged in this kid.” He nodded toward Spider-Man.  “How old are you?”

“That’s not important - “ Tony started to say.

“No, that is a good question.” Natasha interrupted.  “How old are you?” She directed her question at Spider-Man.

“I... uh...” Peter wasn’t sure what to do.  The scary redhead was on Tony’s side, but Tony wanted him to stay a secret.

“If he’s over sixteen, you can keep my shield.” Steve interjected.  Now everyone was looking at Tony, with mixed expressions of shock and even outright anger.

“Alright, We're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. NOW!” Tony was shouting by the end of the sentence. “Because it's us! Or a squad of J-SOC guys... with no compunction about being impolite.”  Steve looks aside, as if he’s deep in thought.  “Come on, man.”

Meanwhile, in Steve’s comms, Sam was talking to him.

“We found the Quinjet.  Hanger five, north runway.”  Steve nodded before holding up his hands, almost looking like he was surrendering.  An arrow pierced the material that bound his hands, freeing them.

“Okay, Lang.” Steve said into his comms.

“Hey, guys, something’s happening.” Spider-Man said, usure of what was going on but sensing something.  He spotted a really tiny man on Captain America’s shield, who quickly turned normal sized and knocked Spider-Man away, before flipping off the truck and handing the shied back to Steve with an exaggerated “I believe this is yours, Captain America.”

Rhodey’s and Tony’s helmets went back up.

“There’s two in the parking deck.” Tony said, using his suit’s enhanced features to spot them.  “One of them’s Maximoff.  I’m gonna grab her.”  Tony started to take off.  “Rhodey, you wanna deal with Cap?”

“Got two in the terminal.” Rhodey said as he also started to rise into the air.  “Wilson and Barnes.”

“Barnes is mine!” T’Challa snarled, immediately racing off in that direction.

“Mr. Stark, what should I do?” Spider-Man asked, sounding more and more like a frightened teenager.

“What we discussed.” Tony snapped over his comms.  “Keep your distance and web ‘em up.”

“Okay, copy that.” Spider-Man leapt off of the ground and produced another of those spider web lines and swung toward the terminal.

The fight was on.

[anncanta]

Natural obligations

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing

Relationship: Dracula/Agatha

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None

Read on AO3

Or read below

Nuns always have a lot of work. This is part of obedience and the normal routine of the monastery, apart from the fact that physical labor helps to focus and pacify the spirit.

Agatha never particularly liked physical labor. She had enough lessons in the laboratory, after which on some days in the evening she was completely exhausted. Still, rules are rules, and at least three times a week she had to help in the kitchen, fetch water, or weed beet beds.

Perhaps that is why a long sleep on a wide and soft, albeit unfamiliar bed seemed to her more a blessing than a cause for alarm.

Until once again slipping out of the delightful slumber, Agatha remembered that there were no such beds in the monastery, and in spacious rooms with walls of rough stone, like the one in which the bed was, the sisters kept cheese.

Agatha sat up jerkily in bed and stared in front of her.

‘Can't sleep?’ Sharply turning her head, she almost buried her nose in the one sitting next to her.

‘What are you doing here?’ Agatha asked from dark, attentive eyes studying her. She tried to concentrate, but consciousness seemed to... splash inside her head, unyielding and nimble, like a slippery fish.

‘I’m here in some way at home,’ Dracula replied calmly. ‘What do you remember?’ he said curiously.

Agatha frowned.

‘The monastery. And prayer. You appeared during a common prayer. I remember Jonathan... Mina... Mina let him in. And the wolves. Yes, I remember wolves.’ She paused, not entirely sure that she had correctly reconstructed the events – or their sequence. ‘And then you said... You promised that I…’

She looked up at him thoughtfully.

‘You took me out of there,’ she stated grimly. ‘It seemed to you not enough to drink me without a trace, and you took me…’

‘...so to speak, in the flesh,’ Dracula nodded in agreement. ‘Don't you like it here?’ He added, sweeping around the room with a gesture.

She didn't answer. Glancing around again, she looked at Dracula. He was sitting so close that she could see the fine lines on his pale face.

‘What do you want?’ Agatha asked.

Dracula shrugged vaguely.

‘Talk.’

...

The bed was incredibly comfortable after all. Over the years she lived in the monastery, Agatha managed to forget about such luxury. She slept comfortably as if plunged into a thick sea of clouds – and she dreamed of clouds. Huge, white, embracing with fluffy waves. Occasionally unfamiliar shadows flickered behind them and voices were heard. But more often in the middle of a dream, Dracula suddenly appeared, and the desire to sleep went somewhere in the background. This was not so much surprising as it raised questions, as well as the fact that, no matter how hard she tried, Agatha could not remember to see at least once where he actually came from.

‘Why do I never see you walk through the door?’ she once asked the Count. ‘I think you are giving me some herbs… Maybe opiates,’ she suggested. ‘But I’m not sleeping anymore when you come. Or rather…’ she paused, feeling that she was confused. Looking at Dracula, she added angrily: ‘You don’t turn into a fog, in fact.’

Dracula smiled at her with that tinge of secular courtesy, which, as she had time to learn, meant that she should not wait for an answer, and Agatha, with a sigh, spoke of something else.

In this, however, there was nothing new – many times Agatha tried, directly or by hints, to find out from him where she was, what was happening, and what she should expect from him – all in vain. Dracula did not react at all, or he gave out something mocking – so much that it became clear that the topic touched upon by Agatha was taboo.

And, it seems, – the only one.

On the first evening after her... awakening, Dracula said he wanted to talk – and they talked. A lot – about books, music, about people and their habits, about what happened in the world before and what is happening now. They gossiped like seasoned gossips and conducted scientific debates, compared impressions of what they read, and discussed how life had changed.

Agatha was never silent, and conversations, moreover, helped her to organize her thoughts and understand herself better. If she lacked something in the monastery, then the interlocutor who could hear, answer, challenge her judgment, or confirm it.

The sisters were not her helpers here – they were kind and caring, treating each other... well, treating each other like sisters, they preferred prayers to disputes and discussions – even if it was about Holy Scripture. So Agatha was desperately bored with them.

Dracula was a demanding and stubborn conversationalist. Smart, attentive, keen, and passionate. He never interrupted and listened to the end of everything she said, thoughtfully studying, looking at it for a long time – and returning it back, sometimes deployed in a completely different angle, and it was... yes, it was exciting, she admitted.

On his next visit, Agatha woke up from a gaze.

Sighing, she turned onto her back.

‘How much time has passed? Since you brought me here.’

‘Three and a half weeks.’

Agatha nodded.

‘Aren't you afraid to make me getting sick of you?’ she asked in a surge of unexpected insolence.

She asked – and immediately regretted it. But the anger did not fall on her, as did the resentment and anger. He laughed.

‘Agatha,’ he said, leaning over and looking into her eyes. ‘How... predictable? you are. How naive in your fierce intransigence. You are so confident in yourself – and in the fact that this intransigence protects you from the manifestations of ‘sinful weakness’. Such as, for example, the ability to feel something for me besides... um... righteous anger. Your tenacity and resilience are truly amazing.’ He paused, smiling. ‘But if I wanted, do not hesitate... yes, if I wanted, I would make you... scream.’

‘I don’t doubt that,’ Agatha said grumpily. She sat up and shifted, making herself comfortable. The pillows spread to the sides and flattened, becoming thin and hard. ‘On the contrary, I find it strange that you took so long...’ she trailed off, choosing the word, ‘for so long delayed with this.’

She bent down to straighten a naughty pillow, and a lock of hair fell over her eyes. Removing them, Agatha looked at Dracula.

He stared at her intently and steadily.

‘Not in that sense.’

The words sounded soft, but something in them made her flinch and – for some reason – to touch the blanket with which Agatha was covered to the waist.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked in a secular tone.

Dracula leaned back, leaning against the low table by the bed. On the table was a glass filled to the brim with wine. Agatha didn’t remember this table had been here before. However, she was not too interested in the furnishings of the room.

‘Have you forgotten in your monastery why they scream in bed?’

‘We don't have much time in our monastery for idle reflections,’ snapped Agatha. ‘Are you serious?’ she did not believe.

‘Quite serious,’ he smiled.

Agatha was silent for a while.

‘Do you really think...’

‘I don’t think so, Agatha, I’m sure.’

She sat for a minute in confusion.

Anger came to the rescue.

‘You will never be able to!’

‘Let's check it?’

What is wrong in this room, Agatha thought. A window would be... Or two. She shifted.

‘Not worth it. I do not participate in disputes about... axioms.’

Now he smiled with the expression that Agatha remembered from their first meeting at the gate of the monastery.

Delight. Disbelief in his luck. Joy.

And in exactly the same gesture as then, he threw back his head and ran his fingers from the corners of his mouth to his chin.

‘Agatha, do you think that for three hundred and eighty-six of my sexually mature years there are secrets of women's pleasures that are unknown to me?’

Agatha chased away the memory.

‘I'm not talking about the secrets of women's pleasures,’ she winced. ‘Your aristocrat's bag, full of information about ladies' charms, has nothing to do with it. It will not help,’ Agatha said condescendingly, ‘in the area where it is a question of a body subject to a higher authority.’

‘Divine?’

‘No. The power of reason.’

He laughed.

‘You are a heretic, Agatha. A century ago, you would have ended your life in the square, and respectable ladies dressed in caps like you would have thrown logs into your fire.’

Agatha snorted.

‘Go away from the topic?’

‘No way,’ Dracula assured. ‘Bet?’ asked after a second.

‘Terms?’

He burst out laughing again.

‘Agatha, I see you are seriously bored. I will not forgive myself for this. The terms...’ noticing her angry look, he continued. A thoughtful expression returned to his eyes. ‘The terms. Let's say this: you allow you to be touched – as I want and as much as I consider... sufficient to prove the theorem, about which we argued. You are completely free in your reactions: growl and hiss, whisper, shower me with the last words. Moan – as loudly as you like. You can't scream.’

‘Moan?’ Agatha squinted. ‘Are you so arrogant?’

He chuckled.

‘I give you a chance.’

Agatha looked at him for a minute.

‘Fine,’ she said slowly. ‘Excellent, accepted. And here are my conditions: you do everything you can to make me scream with pleasure, and if you do not succeed... three times, you lose.’

Dracula raised an eyebrow.

‘Three times? Three times, Agatha?’

‘I give you a chance.’

‘I agree,’ his smile became so soft and sly that Agatha felt a desire to immediately cancel everything.’

‘What will you put?’

She thought about it. And really, what? How can a prisoner pay for a loss? Besides her own humiliation, of course, she thought with annoyance.

‘And you?’ Agatha always found it easier to attack than defense.

He pretended not to notice the pause.

‘I'll let you go,’ he said. ‘If you can’t scream even once, I’ll let you go. And I will fulfill any of your wishes. Of those that I can do, of course,’ he added mockingly.

Agatha frowned in disbelief.

‘Really?’ asked.

‘I give you my word.’

‘Okay.’ She rubbed her forehead absently. ‘What if...’

‘And if I win, then you will go with me to London. Openly, in full view, and voluntarily.’

‘Why do you need me in London?’

Dracula smiled.

‘Don't specify,’ Agatha said. ‘I won't need it. You won't win.’

‘We'll see,’ he is not threatening, she noticed. And doesn't scaring her. He just states.

She took a breath.

‘Well, good. Agree. You win – I will go with you. But that does not mean that I will stop trying to frustrate your... plans.’

‘In no case,’ the corners of Dracula's lips twitched slightly.

Agatha nodded.

‘Then... Since we agreed... on the rules... and on the terms...’ she hesitated. ‘When do you propose?..’

‘Now.’

Agatha stirred and adjusted the pillows again. Now they seemed too soft. She literally felt herself drowning in them.

‘Now?’ she asked politely. It won't do that way, she thought. She must look at him.

Dracula's eyes were completely blank.

‘Do you have any objections?’ he asked.

‘No, not the slightest.’ Tugging at the edge of the blanket, Agatha absentmindedly stroked it.

From the other side, a man's hand lay on the snow-white fabric.

Throwing back the covers in one motion, Dracula bent down, touching the long monk's skirt.

Agatha's gaze darted to his palm, which was lost in the blue folds. She did not feel it through the clothes, she only saw how it adheres to the fabric, completely, with the entire surface.

‘Tell me, have you done this before?’ now the voice of Dracula sounded very close.

‘What?’ Agatha asked, shuddering.

‘Have you ever done this before?’ repeated Dracula; his hand was still resting serenely on the crumpled skirt.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Interesting.’

‘I’m a nun,’ Agatha said dryly.

‘I remember,’ the hand came to life and grabbed the tight hem, lifting it. ‘But you had a life before the monastery?’ Dracula looked into her eyes. ‘Heart dramas, suitors?’

Agatha shook her head.

‘Me... I was the youngest daughter,’ she said. ‘The fourth after three brothers. And no dowry.’

‘There was only one way – to the monastery,’ grasping the hem with both hands, Dracula pulled up her skirt to her knees. ‘At thirteen?’

‘At fourteen.’

He nodded.

‘Understand. Well, what about you yourself?’

Agatha stared at him blankly.

‘What... me myself?’

‘Agatha,’ he smiled. ‘Haven't you ever tried to find out what it feels like?’ He leaned closer, lowering his voice. ‘Didn't you touch yourself, didn't indulge in forbidden games? Haven`t you ever... tasted yourself?’

Agatha turned away in dismay. She remembered her conversation with Jonathan Harker. How stubbornly she asked him about everything! How persistently she sought an answer, wanting to know if he had... a special interaction with the Count. How she convinced poor Jonathan that there was nothing terrible in his desires for Mina left in London and in his fervent dreams.

‘I've never done that,’ she said dully. ‘Even in a dream. Never. I lied to him.’

‘Lied to whom?’ asked Dracula.

‘Jonathan.’ She lowered her head and looked at her legs sticking out from under her skirt.

‘Did you introduce yourself to him as the queen of lecherous women?’

Her indignant gaze met with such frankly cheerful that Agatha could not find anything to answer.

‘Do you think it will give an allowance to you?’

‘An allowance?’ she blinked.

‘Everything unfamiliar scares at first,’ Dracula bowed his head. ‘You certainly won't be able to win an argument, but fear will allow you to hold out for a while and not give up victory in the first battle.’

Having said this, he ran his fingers of both hands over Agatha's thighs, spreading her legs – unceremoniously and quickly.

The first touch pretended a tickling – a quick, almost fleeting, and high – just beyond the edge of the trembling belly. Fingers went over the hollows of the triangle connecting the thighs, leisurely stroking one, the other, covered it entirely.

Pressing her back into the pillow, Agatha instinctively closed her legs – and groaned with pleasure that stitched her body. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dracula smiled – and moved his palm, pressing the base on...

‘Jesus,’ Agatha whispered.

Releasing his hand, Dracula once again ran it over Agatha's stomach from top to bottom, and, playing with the curls of hair in a secluded place, again – with his fingers – repeated the movement that shocked her so much.

‘It’s not forbidden to hiss, or growl, or emit lecherous moans,’ he reminded, leaning over to her ear. Gently stroking her with his thumb, with the middle finger he penetrated where it was humid and cramped, and immediately slipped out, leaving Agatha to shudder and breathe heavily.

‘You will come with me to London, Agatha,’ he said, lightly running over the open petals. ‘The bet was concluded without witnesses, and I, of course, will not claim the winnings in court,’ touching the above, he continued, accompanied by her sharp sigh. His fingers moved gently, and faster and faster. ‘If I am not mistaken, this is called ‘natural obligations’. Nobody will punish you for breaking them. But since the days of Ancient Rome, it has been known that arguing with natural obligations is like denying the very nature of things.’

He touched her again, softly and affectionately, and, trembling, Agatha with a powerless groan buried in his shoulder.

‘I win,’ after a couple of moments she breathed out barely audibly.

‘Oh dear,’ Dracula whispered. ‘This is just the first time.’

***

The dream turned into clear water. Crystal, a little prickly, light, and cool. Washing the boundaries of consciousness and completely filling it. Agatha tried to catch memories floating in the water, scattering to the sides and escaping like the wreckage of a raft or a sunken ship. Memories, thoughts, and feelings, about which, not just to the amazed Jonathan, she would not dare to tell the Mother Superior even.

‘And completely in vain,’ she opened her eyes and looked at Dracula looking at her. ‘You were talking in your sleep,’ he added, sinking to the edge of the bed. ‘Memories are worth sharing. Why else are they needed?’

‘Memories of defeat make the armies lose heart,’ Agatha muttered. She tilted her head, listening to herself. ‘What did you give do me after all... Henbane or mint decoction?’

‘Stop guessing,’ smiled Dracula. ‘You cannot solve this problem by enumerating options. Look for other ways.’

Agatha nodded.

‘I will certainly find it. You've been gone for a long time,’ she said, after a pause. And she immediately added in response to his questioning look: ‘In my position, it is difficult to keep track of time, but I tend to believe my feelings. And they say you haven't shown up for days.’

‘I thought you would want to rest,’ Dracula chuckled. ‘I'm glad I was wrong,’ he said, walking his hand over the blanket, and suddenly turning around, climbed onto her bed.

Sitting on the bed, he was directly opposite Agatha, and for a while silently looked at her.

‘You have changed,’ he said quietly. ‘You have changed so much since you came here.’

Agatha straightened and lifted her chin.

‘Winning the first round does not mean winning the game.’

‘Did I talk about what happened at our last meeting?’ Dracula was surprised.

‘Didn`t you?’

He turned around again and, stretching his legs forward, sat down next to Agatha, leaning back on the pillows.

‘Some victories only inflame... the imagination,’ he said, looking in front of him, smiling. ‘Aren`t they?’

‘How do I know?’ snapped Agatha. Turning away from Dracula, she stared at her hand on top of the blanket. Her knuckles twitched. ‘I can only...’

She didn’t finish. Dracula grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, placing her between his own legs and forcing her to lean back on him.

‘Okay, what do you want?’ whispered in her ear.

Agatha tried to push, but he just pressed closer.

‘I’m all at your disposal,’ Dracula purred, almost touching her auricle with his lips.

Agatha shuddered.

‘I can't... I can't say it,’ she said. ‘I...’

A quiet laugh made her grimace.

‘I didn't mean...’ Agatha muttered, realizing that she had betrayed herself.

‘You're curious,’ he laughed again. ‘And you love experiments too much to miss the opportunity to learn something new.’

‘Even if this is some kind of lewdness?’ Agatha snorted.

‘Why not?’ He ran his hand over her thigh and suddenly bent her leg and pulled it aside. ‘I suggested you set the conditions for the experiment,’ he said, penetrating under her skirt with his other hand, ‘so go ahead.’

His hand touched the hot skin, stroked the inner side of her thigh. Agatha groaned softly. In response, he wiggled his fingers, but instead of touching her where it was most desirable, he grabbed her bent leg and pulled gently, forcing her to open up more.

Leaning back, Agatha groaned loudly.

‘Where should I touch you?’ asked the persistent lips that tormented her ear.

Agatha shook her head.

‘I do not...’

‘Tell me,’ the rapid pulse in her temples seemed like a drumbeat, ‘tell me this out loud.’

Agatha shivered.

‘I want… I want… down,’ she whispered, feeling her cheeks flush. ‘Down... longer. And then...’

‘Then?’ touching her with a finger, he fulfills the request. Agatha breathes fast.

‘Then a little higher...’ another one joins the first finger, they caress her slowly and – oh, quite a bit – harder than last time. Agatha groans, gasping for breath. ‘Slightly higher...’ she asks ‘...higher. Above. Faster... And further... to the end.’

With the last words, choking on the exhale, she realizes that she won only because the pleasure was too strong.

***

When he appeared again, Agatha was awake.

‘You look tired,’ she said, watching him settle into the bed with the same calm casualness.

‘A lot of important things to do,’ Dracula replied absently.

Agatha ran her hand over the blanket.

‘I thought you’re not coming again,’ she said.

‘Why?’

She examined the folds of the graceful canopy.

‘I don`t know. To me...’

‘Was I with you unnecessarily...’

‘...modest,’ Agatha finished, smiling at the mocking sparkle in his eyes. ‘Of course not,’ she added in response to an unasked question. ‘I was just thinking... But no, it doesn't matter.’

Agatha turned away and fell silent.

They sat like that for a long time, and the further, the more awkward the silence became.

‘Agatha,’ Dracula said finally. Agatha shuddered and looked at him. ‘Agatha, I think I should...’

His face seemed tense and unusually determined.

‘Agatha, you...’

‘We haven't finished the game.’

She herself did not know what made her say this. She looked at Dracula, looking at her with a mixture of doubt and surprise. Without looking, felt the blanket, she threw it back – calmly and without challenge.

‘Okay,’ Dracula said and repeated as if waking up from a dream. ‘Okay.’

He sat a little longer in his place, and then, climbing onto the bed, moved closer to Agatha and reached for her skirt.

Agatha pulled back.

‘We haven't finished the game,’ she said again, looking Dracula in the eye. ‘And I want to reach the end.’ With that, she unbuttoned her collar and pulled the dress from her shoulders.

Dracula looked at her closely.

‘You’ll lose,’ he said quietly.

‘I know.’

...

The echo was long, rolling, and sweet.

‘If they could hear you, they would come and grab you as the main culprit of all problems and troublemaker.’

Agatha smiled.

‘Fortunately, they can't.’

Dracula raised an eyebrow.

‘Who can't?’

‘Oh, for God's sake,’ Agatha snorted.

They were silent for a second, looking at each other.

‘How long?..’ he asked carefully.

Agatha narrowed her eyes as she considered.

‘I think that... yes, perhaps. I think it was when you offered me... all this. The glass,’ seeing that he does not understand, she added. ‘The glass on... yes, on the table. I remembered that you don't drink wine.’

‘And you were not scared?’ He raised himself and ran his hand along her neck as if wanting to hear her pulse beating.

‘Of course, I was scared!’ Agatha responded indignantly. ‘You eat people!’

‘Actually, I don`t.’

Agatha looked incredulous.

‘And what, for a long time?’ she said.

‘Since we bet.’

She frowned.

‘But how are you then...’

‘Seagulls. Large fish. There was an albatross two days ago.’

She was silent for several minutes.

‘I was going to…’ she said slowly. ‘My winnings. I was going to ask you...’

‘I guessed.’

She tried to hold on. She did her best. But that was beyond her strength.

‘So, to London?’ she asked, finished laughing.

He smiled.

‘So, to London.’

[puttingfingerstokeys]

a friend in need [reworked]

so here’s the OG if ye cared: The OG(tm)

I’ve added characters and koncepts. Shinnok IS in the amulet, Quan-Chi is around probably, uhh... some shit happened offscreen a la annihilation that I’m sure I can enumerate on later or whatever. Uh

Faraday Cage

Energy crackled and radiated outward, sparking off pavement, trees, vehicles, people—anything with which it came in contact. Fires had erupted all over and people were fighting them as best they could, but with little hope of relief. Destruction radiated outward in all directions from one point. At the center of that point was an angry god, grieved at great loss, enraged beyond his own ability to control.

Earthrealm could not be protected by a weak, fatherly deity; Raiden understood that now, and it scared him. His own weakness scared him. His foolishness scared him. The “justice” of the Elder Gods scared him. He would end this fight and all fights, because they, for some reason, had chosen the path of passive observation. He had to do this; there was no other way. Why did no one understand? He was singular in his purpose and not even the chosen of Earthrealm, Liu Kang, could stand in his way.

Raiden had taken his own advice, a frightful echo from a future as yet unknown, an Armageddon which killed them all, himself included. It had taken many trials and many more errors to realize his own, true meaning. 

“He must win.” 

Raiden had finally reached the conclusion that the “he” in question was not Liu Kang, Earthrealm’s chosen, but Shao Kahn, the bloodthirsty outworld dictator. Reality shivered under the threat of the merging, however, and still the Elder Gods did not step in. How far would this have to go? Did they know that Shao Kahn’s army was, even now, trampling the tenuous pact between the realms? Did they know it had been making rubble piles of Earthrealm cities for almost a decade? Did they care?

“Liu, over here!” It was Johnny Cage, long having grown from the self-absorbed jerk Liu Kang had once known. In fact, he was a father, and proud of his little girl, but right now, damn near shitting in his britches to see Raiden this way. He offered an arm and pulled Liu Kang to his feet. He and a few others were taking shelter behind a small building which shook with the march of outworld foot soldiers and presently began to flicker with a terrible energy.

Raiden had warned himself, somehow, that the merging of realms must begin, that this was the meaning of victory in his own prophetic words, for the Elder Gods to step in. Shao Kahn had begun his dark work, however, and still nothing moved, nothing in favor of the forces of light and justice, anyway. It seemed the Elder Gods had a different idea of what it meant to maintain balance.

Certainly, there had been debate at first. There was no guarantee the Elder Gods would step in to honor the ancient pact between the protector of Earthrealm and Outworld’s greedy dictator, Shao Kahn. The deal had been struck before the eyes of those gods, however, and between divinity and divine blood; it was unbreakable. What no one had anticipated was that Shao Kahn could, technically speaking, send his forces through into Earthrealm without entering himself, or even starting the merge. 

The terms of his further challenge, after having lost to the warriors of Earthrealm had been untenable, however, and so, with little debate, all kombatants under the god of thunder agreed to fight for the safety and security of their realm as a veritable army, rather than allowing their fate to once more hinge on a single battle. It had not stopped Shao Khan from taking Lao from behind and nearly snapping his neck when the behatted monk was the only one he could reach. This should have killed him, but for Raiden’s quick, skilled intervention. Even then, he realized he had been afraid that the Elder Gods would see this as blatant interference, though he had never once regretted it.

The invasion was small, at first, relatively speaking, and confined to Shang Tsung’s island, the weakest place in the fabric of reality, a sort of nexus point which connected most other realms. The Earthrealm fighters were able to contain it there, using it as a funnel, but only for so long. After that, the secret invasion began. Fortunately, the marching armies of open conquest had only made themselves apparent in the last few years or so. As the fabric of reality between realms had become thin, more thin spots had appeared, making crossing realms much, much easier. 

“Your tournament is canceled, puny god! I have rescinded my generous invitation!” Shao Kahn called, raising his great hammer to the sky as Outworld began finally to merge with Earthrealm, tearing down buildings and reconstructing them in hideous amalgams. People fled and were trampled; people stood and were gored. He would line the streets with bodies before the day was out and only Raiden stood before him. Raiden, who had fought his own, dear Liu Kang, who had defied him nearly to death.

Had he died? Was Liu Kang dead? Raiden could not see him. He could not see anything past the haze of fury clouding his vision and judgment. I have killed him, again, as it was said I always will, as I always must. The thought was errant, not his own, and he brushed it aside, focusing on Shao Kahn and the present. It was his only choice.

For Raiden, at that moment, there was only himself, the protector of Earthrealm, and Shao Kahn, the invader. The world around him had narrowed to a tunnel which saw only the vicious Kahn. His soldiers had massed around him, many of them clearly conscripts from Netherrealm. Quan-Chi had long been on the side of Shao Kahn. It had been his magic which resurrected Sindel, giving her Shang Tsung’s many souls and turning her into a maddened force of nature. She was gone now, but while she lived, she stole many an Earthrealm warrior from him and Raiden could see some of these, lined up near Shao Kahn, not least of all the revenant kryomancer, Sub-Zero. 

Meanwhile, Earthrealm’s remaining defenders did their best to regroup. Their numbers had dwindled in recent years. They were hanging on by the skin of their teeth, but only just. Everyone was exhausted and no one could remember when last they slept a whole night in a real bed. 

“He… Johnny—you should have seen his eyes,” Liu Kang gasped, slumping to his rear-end near the wall. Jacqui Briggs stooped to examine him, checking for external injuries, and wishing for a better facility in which to check for internal. She was no expert, but godly lightning probably left a nasty mark.

“I see ‘em from here, Liu, and it’s… this is fucked,” grunted the Hollywood star, handing the binoculars over to his daughter, Cassie. She shook her head.

“He said we had to let Shao Kahn win, or else the Elder Gods would never step in,” gasped Liu Kang between labored breaths. Something was definitely wrong and if it was not treated soon, it could become permanent. “They… aren’t stepping in—I knew they didn’t care about us. I…” He groaned in agony and Jacqui pushed him back down.

“Hold still, Chosen One, your guts’ve been rearranged by a pissed off god—maybe take it easy.”

“If I ‘take it easy’, we all die,” Liu Kang snapped, jaw tight. Jacqui gave him a look that suggested she would take no lip, no matter how damn chosen he was or who chose him, for that matter. She could see from the way he held himself, the way his muscles tensed and tightened, that he was going to get much worse before he got better, especially if he pushed. They might not have a choice, soon enough, but while they did, there was no point risking it.

He met her gaze—it was burning with rage and sadness—with his own. They were matched in this way, both earthrealm natives with everything and more to lose, both people who had fought, tooth and nail, against this very thing. Sitting by idly and wishing things were otherwise was not something to which either Liu Kang or Jacqui Briggs were accustomed. 

Somewhere in the midst of it all, Kung Lao approached, supporting a figure between himself and Hanzo Hasashi, the Shirai-Ryu Grandmaster. Behind them trailed Takeda Takahashi, Scorpion’s pseudo son and likely successor, half-carrying Lao’s cousin, Jin. The figure between Scorpion and Kung Lao was dressed all in blue, with cracked, gray flesh. He seemed to exude chill and once they had placed him, only Grandmaster Hasashi seemed inclined, or able, to stay near him.

“Is this all that is left?” Lao’s voice was not incredulous, so much as despairing. He moved immediately toward Jacqui and Liu Kang, dropping to one knee. “Where is Princess Kitana and her force?”

Liu Kang shook his head. He explained that the last he had seen her, she was leading an auxiliary force of Shokan loyal to her and her claim to the throne, plus a few Osh-Tekk warriors, a gift from the rebellious general Ko’atal. The big man himself had been nowhere to be seen, but he was resourceful. Jade, too, had been missing, but Liu Kang assumed that if they were together, they were safe. She was much more than Kitana’s handmaiden. Their party had been split by the arrival of the irate god of thunder and Shao Kahn’s largest, most potent portal yet.

“Dad!” The three looked up suddenly at Cassie’s shout, pulled from their informal debrief. She was reaching out to an empty space where Johnny had just been standing. Before she could go after him, however, Jacqui was at her back, grasping her elbow, hard.

“No,” Jacqui hissed, “you’ll be fried—we don’t know if Raiden’s friendly anymore… if he ever was.” Cassie jerked her elbow away, but Jacqui held tight and shook her head. “I mean it, Cass. Your dad’s… gunna do what he’s gunna do, just like mine.”

With effort, she pulled Cassie back and away from the violent arcs of red lightning that were even now consuming trees and landscaping, cars, enemy soldiers, anything within the dome of the thunder god’s power—an area that was growing. Cassie hated that explanation, but not because it was foolish. Jacqui was spot on, in every way. Johnny Cage was a force of nature himself and always had been. Cassie wasn’t sure, however, that he would be enough to combat an elemental who had, in her mind, clearly gone out of his wits. 

Raiden and Shao Kahn met somewhere in the middle, just beyond the portal the Outworld emperor had opened to begin the final invasion and merging of Earthrealm to his blasted home. Still, the Elder gods did not stir.

Shao Kahn’s hammer swung mightily and met a fist that moved with swift violence. A thunderclap resounded, flattening the area and then cratering it. Neither hand nor head of hammer shattered, but that was of no consequence to Shao Kahn, who reached out and hauled Raiden forward by his collar.

The thunder god looked into the emperor’s animal eyes and neither hated nor pitied him. Raiden’s rage was beyond petty ire toward the man who had caused his beloved Earthrealm so much grief over the centuries. He would simply destroy Shao Kahn. It had become singularly simple in his eyes. He had been a fool. He would end this once and for all, for everyone, forever.

Perhaps it was the look, the nearly directionless fury which met his eyes that made Shao Kahn drop Raiden. Johnny Cage, who had worked himself much closer than was probably safe, watched from still a ways off and could not quite pinpoint what it was that had Shao Kahn backing away from the thunder god.

“It is forbidden for you to fight,” Shao Kahn warned, with more authority and sureness in his voice than it seemed he felt. “You cannot engage in Mortal Kombat! You are not mortal!” Even his minions began to back away as Raiden’s arced, red lightning crashed violently into them, disintegrating here, vaporizing there, starting fires all over. Raiden’s chest heaved with the effort of either sustaining the onslaught, or holding it back, Johnny wasn’t sure. 

On that heaving chest, Shinnok’s awful amulet pulsed with life and light, beckoning and promising strength. Raiden reached for it, but hesitated, seemingly doubting himself for the merest fraction of a second. It was in that span of time whence Shao Kahn regained his courage, approached, and swung again. This time, he would have caught the god of thunder on the chin, had it not been for the quick footwork of Johnny Cage.

This time, boots met hammer, though the clash was not so even. The force of the impact sent Johnny into the side of a building. His back hit concrete and he was certain he felt something snap, but if he gave up now, Raiden was absolutely going to do something stupid. Johnny didn’t understand Shinnok’s power, or even who and what Shinnok really was, or had been, as the case may be, but he knew an evil piece of jewelry when he saw it. Perhaps ironically, his experience in the film industry had clued him into its potency and danger, if the sickly green glow was not enough.

“Time for a scene change,” he grunted, pushing himself to his feet and spitting blood. The tang of adrenaline was on his tongue and coursing through his veins, making him hyper focus upon this detail or that, the world around him moving in slow motion. Johnny fancied he could hear Cassie screaming somewhere in the distance, but right now, his attention was on the battle before him.

“You are too weak to use that amulet on me, or anyone, thunder god,” Shao Kahn mocked, manufacturing enough bravado to satisfy his immense ego. Raiden grimaced, as if considering whether or not the man was right. He ground his teeth and once more moved to grasp Shinnok’s amulet. Shao Kahn struck again, this time with a boot.

Raiden was forced to block this with a cross before his chest and to step back. He balled one fist and surrounded it with lightning, shaking his head. “You do not know my power,” he growled, “but rest assured, Shao Kahn, you will.” Raiden discharged the lightning at Shao Kahn, who used his hammer as a ground and laughed.

“Pathetic, and weak.” Each descriptor was punctuated with a sharp wag of his finger toward Raiden’s chest and the deadly amulet which sat throbbing with energy thereupon.

“I am not weak—I am doing as I have always done. I am protecting Earthrealm.” His hand once more rose to the amulet. “Whatever that takes, I will do it.”

With his free hand, Raiden wound up a massive store of radiant, red energy and hurled it at Shao Kahn. The tyrant was thrown back mightily, taking out a score of his foot soldiers as he flew. Raiden continued forward, his pace slow, but deliberate. The troops of outworld were suddenly cowed by this display, as if their fellows being randomly vaporized had not been enough. Something had shifted, they sensed, and they began to back away. 

“You are forbidden, Raiden!” This time, Shao Kahn’s voice was laced with fear; the confidence he had earlier displayed with his first remark of this kind had evidently deserted him in the face of what Raiden had become. The deity’s hand was now resting almost lovingly, protectively covering his father’s amulet. It was as if a very small part of him still fought for his own innocence, whatever might have been left of it. 

Yes, a voice whispered, emanating from the amulet, but resounding in Raiden’s fevered mind, yes, grasp the power you have earned. With it, no one will threaten you again. Earthrealm will be safe, forever. The voice which came from the cursed object was familiar and comforting. His thoughts clung to it, to the truth of it. He had earned this power. Eons of bending to the will of the Elder Gods with no reward signaled the need for it, the deserving of its power. He only ever moved to protect Earthrealm.  

Meanwhile, Johnny had begun to close the distance between himself and the wrathful deity. He could feel his hair standing on end with the force of the red lightning radiating outward from Raiden’s body. He was tense; the actor could see that from where he was, and… Are those tears? He shook off the thought as a stray bolt vaporized a fire hydrant less than a yard from him; it burst into a geyser of city water which soon began raining down upon everyone in the vicinity.

Johnny ducked behind a bike rack, realized that was probably a poor choice of cover, and scuttled along on the ground until he found a trash bin that looked as if it was made of plastic composite, rather than anything that might conduct those wicked red arcs of enraged power. His heart was hammering a thousand miles per hour and for a moment, he wondered if that was the first sign of an electricity-induced heart attack. Maybe he had been struck and did not realize it.Thinking about the ramifications of that hurt his head, so he stopped and decided to do what he did best. 

“Now or never,” he told himself, taking a deep breath and fully expecting to be vaporized like the fire hydrant. It would be guts, however, not water spraying about, if he was lucky. Speaking of the water... too much of it, and Johnny would be zapped for sure; he was already soaked to the bone. Oh like it’s any different than what I’m about to do, he hissed internally, covering his face to keep his sunglasses dry. He needed to be able to see for this one. Johnny simply told himself that god lightning was different than the regular stuff and, in a burst of foolish energy, tossed himself around the trash bin and ran, full tilt, toward Raiden’s position. 

A wayward bolt struck his glasses, tossing them from his face and exploding stars before his eyes. Johnny stumbled and, somewhere in the distance—she sounded thousands of miles away—he thought he could hear Cassie’s voice calling his name, screaming it in raw, brutal, throat-rending panic. He prayed someone was holding her back, because if this went south, as he was almost sure it would, she would be about to fight a hurricane, armed with only a pair of pistols. 

Raiden was not going to be stopped, but Johnny felt that it was his duty to try. Liu’s shouldered too fuckin’ much already—my turn, he reasoned, forcing himself to keep going, running harder and faster than he had ever done in his life. 

Raiden had stopped his inexorable stride and Shao Kahn looked on in bewilderment as the earthrealm action star closed the gap, running directly into that deadly lightning. Shao Kahn had been so sure Johnny’s miserable back had broken against that building. There was something to be said for the tenacity of a cornered, wounded animal. The Outworld dictator considered the benefits of having stock like that in the breeding pits. If Johnny Cage lived through this, his life in Outworld would be relatively comfortable, Shao Kahn decided. 

The god turned his head, acknowledging Johnny with eyes as red as his lightning. Sure as shit, Johnny thought, noting that Raiden was, indeed, in tears, though they did not seem to be saline, as a human’s might be—they stood out, even upon his pale flesh, catching light and reflecting it like diamonds—or perhaps rubies, stained by the power of his rage. When they fell, they seemed to solidify midair. He supposed the sound they would make might be the minute clattering of diamonds or solidified quicksilver, though of course he could hear nothing through the rush of blood in his ears and the ambient roar of battle nearly-joined.

“Stop it, man!” Johnny called, reaching a hand out. Raiden still did not move, but neither did he cease his bombardment. Shao Kahn’s forces were at a standstill, watching, for once uncertain of the correct path. Some were even edging toward the portal, back to Outworld and relative safety. “Raiden—you listening to me? You don’t hafta—” 

A bolt struck him square in the chest and he dropped to his knees, eyes wide, staring with pain and fear at the man—the god—who had struck him down. Raiden seemed to shift a little at that and then to turn. Johnny had caught his attention and would have held it but for Shao Kahn’s voice. “An earthrealm fraud has halted your march, Lord Raiden—what sort of god are you?!” He urged his forces forward, but no one stirred. Shao Kahn looked around and once more met Raiden’s eyes, which were again trained upon him. The grip on Shinnok’s amulet tightened and finally, it seemed Raiden would use it. 

“No more.” 

Cassie continued to scream. Johnny could hear her now. He was coming to, realizing that he was not, in fact, dead, nor even too terribly scorched. At the last moment, evidently, the magic of his strange heritage had leapt up to protect him, but he could feel in his bones that this would not happen again. He had one chance. For Cassie, he thought, all those kids—for Liu and Lao and Sonya, for Jax, even Scorpion and Sub-Zero, and Earthrealm. His heart thudded and he started forward, first at a trot, the once more at a leaping gallop. For Raiden. 

Before the god could respond, Johnny Cage had tossed his arms around that broad, pillar-like torso. He had never realized just how big Raiden actually was, and thought perhaps he had allowed himself to retain a human size when dealing directly with them. He had to have been at least seven feet tall and change, but Johnny held tight all the same. He could feel a surge of anger and fathomless grief within his own body, as if it belonged to him, originated IN him—and it scared him. All this time, they had though Raiden was losing his mind to the desire for power, something much more understandable to a human mind. Johnny had never held tightly to the belief, having gotten to know Raiden over the years, but others, his late ex-wife included, had been downright certain.

“Christ,” he grunted, “is this what you’re feeling?” 

It was then that the Outworld dictator chose to rush them. With him leading the charge, his hordes felt renewed confidence and vigor and lunged forth as one, howling their triumph over Earthrealm. Raiden was frozen in place, but only for a moment. He seemed suddenly to come back to himself, as if he had been far away, no longer in control of his limbs or actions—certainly not of his lightning. 

He wrapped one powerful arm around Johnny, who still held him, and with the other, lashed a wide, sweeping arc of blue-white lightning across the crowd, releasing his hold on the wicked amulet to do so. Shao Kahn’s hammer protected him, but his troops were not so lucky. There was a smell of ozone and charred flesh left hanging in the air when Shao Kahn opened his eyes and straightened. 

“Send your champion to face me, then!” Shao Kahn shouted, beating his chest, his hubris seemingly undiminished. His tone, however, was just this side of desperate, and his stance was far too eager, too frantic, to regain and retain control over this place. Johnny looked to Raiden, then back to Shao Kahn. He knew what this meant. He’d been at this long enough. The challenge had been issued years ago and Raiden had, with the blessing of Earthrealm’s defenders, refused it. Now, it would be taken up.

“So you’re declaring Mortal Kombat?” Johnny was going to be absolutely clear on this one, since… god contracts and all that—or something. He wasn’t wholly certain on this point, but it seemed to be the right thing to do. Shao Kahn seemed actually to consider this. His troops were slaughtered or retreating, Raiden was placated for the time being, but who knew how long that could last? His konquest had begun unlawfully, but for the loophole of his not quite finishing the merging of realms. That would be his next step—because if there existed no Earthrealm champions to defend her, then who would stop him?

“Yes, Earthrealm clown,” Shao Kahn rumbled, slapping the handle of his great hammer on one rough palm.

“Mime, actually,” came another voice from across a few lanes of what would have been traffic. Emerging from the alley where they were taking shelter, Liu Kang led their friends, injured and whole, into the open. He was supported by a grimacing Jacqui Briggs and a relieved but concerned Kung Lao, but it was clear from Liu’s expression that “no you have ruptured organs” was not an answer he would be hearing today. Raiden’s shoulders sagged a little in relief; he had not killed Liu Kang after all. 

“Thank you, Liu—wait hang on…” Johnny narrowed his eyes at his friend. The Shaolin fighter did not respond and seemed, for a moment, not to be able to meet Johnny’s eyes. In fact, if Johnny wasn’t tripping completely, he could have sworn that the guy was blushing. Still got it, he thought, grinning. 

Before he could continue, however, Cassie broke into a gait he very much recognized as one that signaled extreme displeasure. Her face held a look of grim determination as she stomped toward her father. Johnny knew he was in for it and backed away, hands up.

“Whoa, whoa, pumpkin, easy, huh?” He looked between Shao Kahn and his daughter and realized he would rather face the Outworld tyrant. “C’mon—easy, what was your old man s’posed to do?”

“Not get fried by a pissed off god and leave me a fucking ORPHAN? MAYBE?” Her voice held an edge of hysterical panic he did not like. “Oh. Shit…” she stammered, stopping just as her path crossed Raiden’s. “I’m—sorry… I didn’t mean—”

“You did,” said the god, inclining his head toward her, “but you are not incorrect.”

Cassie was sheepish and mumbled another apology. Raiden seemed to understand her position, however, and addressed it no more. Instead, he turned his attention upon the waiting tyrant.

“When will this foolishness subside so that I can begin the konquest of your filthy realm, Raiden?!” Shao Kahn was growing impatient. “The Earthrealmer has declared Mortal Kombat and I accept, on the terms that, when I win, the merge will begin and you, pitiful servant of the Elder Gods, will stand aside and bow to their will as you have always done!”

Johnny’s jaw tightened at this hateful commentary upon Raiden’s character, but for once in his life, he held his tongue. Now was not the time to bandy words with dictators and monsters; now was the time to make them eat those words with a garnish of ball-crushing whoop-ass.

“It is my destiny to fight Shao Kahn,” Liu Kang hissed, eyeing Johnny, his gaze flinty. The hardness in his voice and tone belied the real fear that they were thwarting destiny and tempting a fate no one was equipped to handle. His eyes snapped to Raiden, then, pleading. Raiden shook his head. Jacqui echoed the movement. Even now, protesting this, Liu leaned heavily upon both people holding him up, in no condition to fight. 

“Guess it’s not, Liu—stand back and watch.” Johnny would hear no more, turning toward his opponent and shouting. “I accept your terms, Shao Kahn—winner take all.” I mean, I’m not gunna take over Outworld, but like… it sounds pretty good when I say it out loud, his fevered brain nattered.

He must win. Raiden’s own, incomprehensible words came back to him in a sickening echo he still wondered, even now, to whom his future self had been referring. He had been so sure it was Shao Kahn, but that sureness had nearly killed his chosen champion. He met Liu Kang’s furious gaze.

“By the rules of Mortal Kombat, the challenge must be taken up by the one who declared it. I am sorry, Liu Kang, but this fight indeed belongs to Johnny Cage.”

Johnny heard his name, but no more. He was focused, utterly and completely, upon Shao Kahn, who stood a few yards hence, leaning upon the head of his hammer and observing the company with such arrogance, it turned Johnny’s guts. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his head upon broad shoulders. 

“Okay big guy, you heard the god. Let’s fuckin’ go.” He dropped into a deep stance and beckoned Shao Kahn. The tyrant chuckled, the sound a raspy, hollow thing, mirthless and full of contempt and triumph for a victory he had not yet won. Kung Lao winced at the sound and whispered to his companion,

“This is insane…”

Johnny made the first move, using his distance to gain speed and launch into a combination of forceful, heavy kicks which utilized his size and the length of his legs. Shao Kahn blocked these with little effort and jabbed in return, hoping to push Johnny off balance. 

The years had made him wily and this was not the Johnny Cage that Shao Kahn remembered, so cocksure and arrogant, his insecurities showing upon his countenance like a glowing sign, pushed by his own self doubt to showboat and make light of his own skill. This Johnny was an old veteran of many ugly fights; he was vicious, clever, and quick. The fate of his world hung in the balance. He would pull no punches and playing fair wasn’t necessarily a given, either.

Using the tyrant’s momentum against him, Johnny ducked around him and launched into a hard kick to the back of Shao Kahn’s head. This, the tyrant bore with an enraged snarl, a stumble, and a wide, arcing swing of the hammer. That swing, too, Johnny dodged, spitting in his opponent’s direction. “Gunna hafta do better’n that, slugger!”

“So your arrogance has not been tempered,” Shao Kahn commented. “Good, good. That will make your defeat all the more satisfying.” He laughed viciously and swung the hammer down, shaking the ground around them. Johnny found himself out of sorts for a moment, but it was long enough for Shao Kahn to catch him up in one hand, tossing the hammer aside and plying both powerful limbs to their grim task. He lifted Johnny over his head and began to bend. “Do you see your champion, Thunder God?”

Raiden, formerly watching with a mask of impassive disinterest, was suddenly assaulted by visions of Johnny Cage, broken nearly in two, over the shoulders of this selfsame tyrant. He could hear Shao Kahn’s triumphant laugh, the horrified scream of Sonya Blade, the heartbroken, barely-audible moan of Liu Kang. As he blinked, the entire scene flashed behind his eyes and, without thinking, he stretched forth one hand and fired a bolt of pure, blue-white lightning.

With a single shot, Raiden, god of thunder and protector of Earthrealm, ended it all. 

Shao Kahn was vapor, dust in the light breeze that had begun to pick up. Johnny hauled himself to his feet, heart hammering once more, and looked between the two. Shao Kahn had been mere moments from snapping him in half, powerful hands crushing him wherever they reached, his back beginning to feel the strain of the Outworld dictator’s prodigious strength when, all at once, it was over and he was on the ground. 

Coughing, brushing off, and reorienting himself, Johnny’s only thought was for the thunder god and he rushed back to where Raiden stood, staring, shocked (there was a pun here someplace), at his own hand, as if he had never before seen it. The amulet, curiously, remained upon his chest, unused, bearing no mark of having been harnessed.

“I…” Raiden stammered as Johnny reached him. The others watched the pair, who had sunk to the ground together, Johnny’s rough hands finding either side of Raiden’s face. They were murmuring—mostly Johnny, in point of fact—and no one was sure if they should get close. 

Liu Kang directed them away and gestured that they ought to start dealing with the portal, which was still open and continuing its inexorable work. He hoped, silently, that the Elder Gods actually did decide to step in, because he was no sorcerer, nor was he a god and could not see himself becoming either in the near future.

Across the expanse of what had become the field of kombat, Kung Lao and Jacqui spotted Kitana, Jade, and a limping Ko’atal. They were followed by a few singed Shokan and some Osh-Tekk, bruised and battered, but alive. Kitana raised a hand and Jacqui returned the salute, made a brief gesture to the murmuring pair, and then to Liu Kang, still suspended between herself and Kung Lao.

“Hey,” Johnny hissed, “it’s okay—it’s gunna be fine… You finished it. It’s—”

“It is not over, Johnny Cage,” responded the god, eyes downcast. “I have upset the balance; the Elder Gods will be furious. The consequences—”

“Seriously,” Johnny interrupted, “fuck the Elder Gods—what’ve they done for us, huh?” Raiden’s eyes opened wide at these words of blasphemy and he reached out to grasp the lapels of Johnny’s vest.

“You know not of what you speak, Johnny Cage,” warned Raiden. Johnny hated that fearful look on Raiden’s face. It was foreign and wrong and did not belong there under any circumstances. Johnny scowled deeply.

“I know a thing or three about shit parents… Listen, this whole… fatherhood thing, y’know, it blows sometimes—no offense Cass; I love ya pumpkin—and it’s… like a never-ending cavalcade of horseshit, nonsense, and doubt.” He shook his head. “I had ONE. I can’t imagine being the… like, dad of a whole-ass world…realm… thing.” Pursing his lips, Johnny searched for his next words, choosing them carefully. “We spend our whole damn lives worrying and wondering if we did all we could—if we fucked up somewhere along the way and if that… y’know, if it caused more pain than it should’ve, or… more than we knew at the time, or could ever know.” He sighed. “And yeah, it’s gunna do that—it will do that. You’re going to hurt your kids and sometimes meaning well isn’t the be-all, end-all… the ends don’t always justify the means and all that shit, except when they do… But the bottom line here is that a good parent does THAT, y’know, looks back and… worries… about the process. Getting there ain’t always half the fun, big guy—and frankly, whoever-the-fuck got you here, where you are right now? They’re not the good kinda parents. Just sayin’.”

Raiden looked as if he had never been told that the Elder Gods were poor parental figures. He looked as if he had never considered them parents at all, which Johnny supposed made sense, since they weren’t exactly physical beings or whatever, but sometimes, one had to wonder at the “my ways are higher than your ways” explanation. 

He, still holding either side of Raiden’s face, pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. “We’re gunna be all right, man—I promise. I… we… no one’s gunna let anything happen to you—or Earthrealm, or whatever.” He had clearly run out of words, for the time being

“Thank you, Johnny Cage,” whispered Raiden solemnly. “Your faith and fair words mean more to me than you can know.”

“Ah, one more thing, though.” Evidently, Johnny was not completely out of words. “Just… Just Johnny, please? Whenever I hear the whole thing, I kinda assume I’m in deep shit—y’really don’t wanna go there with a god… ‘specially not the kind who can do… y’know, what you just did.”

Raiden regarded what he had just done very carefully, then regarded Johnny. This, he supposed, was a request he could grant, but it felt strange, not addressing him that way.

“If I am correct, then we are, all of us, in ‘deep shit’.”

“Lord Raiden,” Liu Kang called, hobbling toward them having escaped, temporarily, his captors. “Forgive me, but that portal isn’t closing itself and I…”

Raiden shook his head and stood, grasping Johnny’s hands and pulling the man with him. “I will make this right,” he promised, stepping away from the mortals and lifting into the air. Once more, energy crackled all around, but it bore the tranquil, blue-white glow that they were accustomed to seeing. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief at that.

Cassie approached her father slowly. He seemed dazed. She could have slapped him, but she wasn’t sure that wouldn't trigger some kind of heart attack. Johnny’s eyes were wide, fixed on the hovering thunder deity. 

“You ah… okay, dad?”

“I don’t… I dunno, kid. I’m not sure. But he is… and right now, that’s kinda what we need.”

[merakiaes]

To begin with, I'm full of contradictions, utterly boring, very insecure and highly complicated. I would say my strongest personality traits are my kindness, calmness and sympathy. It's almost impossible to scare or upset me, because I always see the good in a person and recognize where anger, frustration and despair come from. There's no cruelty in me at all. I'm open and impartial towards everything and everyone, without any judgment or prejudice. I also have a calming/grounding effect on other people and animals, which is great because I honestly love all sorts of animals (I'm also a vegetarian because I refuse to intentionally hurt any animal). I'm always well-meaning and there to help others. I despise people who enjoy the suffering of others, just because they have the 'power' to. I'm very open-minded and I think that every opinion matters and that whatever someone has to say is important, at least to them and therefore for me. I will never ignore someone's sorrows and suffering and I try my hardest to help and comfort as best I can. But, even though I see the good in everything, I'm very insecure myself and have little love and understanding for myself. I have a very bad self-esteem and not a particularly positive self-perception, which mostly defines my actions. It makes me believe that I'm a burden to others and that I annoy them. I feel like I'm not "worthy" of love/there's nothing lovable about me, that there are too many problems in contrast to the little good things. Nevertheless, I would never change myself for anything or anyone, I am who I am. This is one of many reasons why I try to stay away and distance myself from others. For me, dealing and interacting with people is really difficult, because I'm so clumsy and nervous around them and easily feel like I'm making a fool out of myself. Another reason is that I fear to be rejected and thrown aside when someone sees how boring, problematic and annoying I actually am. It's also hard for me and incredible frustrating that I'm unable to articulate myself the way I want to, so that I mostly stay silent. And, since I'm a very quiet and rather shy person, I prefer people who initiate the contact and talk a lot/like to talk, who do the talking instead of me, but without intending to suppress myself. You would be surprised how timid and reserved I am, I'm sure you wouln't notice me in a room full of people if it wouldn't be for my different appearance (I'm always wearing only black, have dyed my hair a little and two ear piercings). Because I'm easily sad and not a funny/joking person, I like and enjoy people who are not too serious themselves. And I'm the most loyal person you'll ever find, once you earn my trust, I'll always be on/by your side, no matter what. I've always felt alienated from my surroundings, like I don't belong anywhere, like I'm the only cat in a room full of dogs. That's probably why I have a soft spot for the weirdos, outcasts, loners and "crazy" ones. Though, in my opinion, the definition of normal, crazy and real are very subjective. My whole life I've felt kinda judged, misunderstood and unwanted. People often falsely think that my unassuming nature is naivity and take my social-insecurity for aloofness and coldness. I'm also quite opinionated and aware of what I want, how I feel and who I am. I'm often questioning my surroundings, the traditions and rules and if I believe that something is wrong, I have absolutely no problem challenging others, even authority. I'm a perfectionist, which often leads me to overthinking and that can be equally good and bad. I'm absolutely clueless in romance and totally oblivious to flirting because I'm 100% inexperienced in this stuff, but I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic.

I crave physical touch and am literally melting into and bathing in any sort of touch, but I'm way too reluctant to initiate it. I'm rather sentimental with things given to me by people who I deeply care for, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem. Sadly, I'm not good with words to repeat how much someone means to me and I never know how to show/act on it either. I'm lazy, forgetful and sleepy most of the time and too much people, noise and light is exhausting for me. That's why I prefer to cozy up at home, watching a movie or TV show and listen to music. Music is my greatest passion, even if I can't sing or play an instrument. It's the most calming and therapeutic when it comes to my anxiety and depression and I could never live a day without it. When no one is around, I even sing along really loudly and off-tune. The meaning music has for me is hard to put into words, but it's my sanctuary for when I feel like my thoughts and feelings are suffocating me. You will never see me in the street without headphones in my ears and even when I'm at home there's music playing almost all the time. I could talk for hours about music and what it means to me. My taste in movies is more horror, fantasy and drama and in music it's rock, punk and pop, but for both I enjoy when it's themed around mental illness and real-life problems and when it's from the 80s and 90s. I like vintage things and would love to live in the 80's. I love the feeling of freedom and liveliness. My favourite weather is when it's gloomy and more cold, when it's pouring big fat drops and the air smells like rain and my favourite season is autumn because of the weather, colors, temperatures, flavors and overall aesthetic. I'm on the curvy-side and incredible insecure about it, although I really don't want to be. Once I trust you, I would love to talk for hours about music, movies, dreams, fears or anything alike and life in general, no matter how silly it may seems. I have a fascination for dark and macabre things. I also love to take late-night strolls, to gaze at the nightsky and literally feeling the freedom and infinity. My favourite colours are dark green, black, dark purple and gold. I love the scent of peppermint, cinnamon and the forest. I love plants and would love to decorate my home with them, but unfortunately I don't have a green thumb at all. I like ivy, lavender and roses the most. I wish I could live peacefully in a cottage, surrounded by a forest and many animals. I feel little conected to where I lwas born/am living and I'm deeply convinced that my soul belongs in the UK, always has.

+  Could I please request a male matchup for Stranger Things and Peaky Blinders? I'm female, she/her. (I know you said that no amount is too much, but I still hope that I didn't exaggerate here - and I'm sorry for any spelling and grammatical errors, english isn't my first language)

STRANGER THINGS

I ship you with Billy Hargrove!

This is somewhat of a controversial ship that can be both good and bad depending on the circumstances. I’m choosing to look at it from a positive perspective so bear with me.

Kindness, calmness and sympathy are your strongest personality traits and that is just what Billy Hargrove needs to bring him back to reality, because it is my opinion that the Billy we’ve gotten to see is only the version of himself that he has allowed us to see. 

Billy’s automatic response when someone tries to help him by digging into his emotions is to get angry and defensive. Why? Because he’s put so much time and effort into building up walls around himself in order to not have to feel all his pain over and over again, and every time someone comes and pokes holes in those walls, he snaps.

He’s so used to not being loved and being abandoned that he automatically assumes that people who come off as supportive are going to leave eventually, too. So in his mind, he might as well scare people away at once so that he doesn’t get his hopes up and ruins the walls that he’s put so much into. That’s just easier for everyone.

But although he succeeds in pushing people away by getting angry and therefore succeeding in protecting himself from more heartbreak, he still feels a subconscious guilt when seeing how much he scares people, because that’s how scared he is of his dad. He treats people like his dad treats him and it destroys him to live with that, but he just doesn’t know how to do anything else at this point because his only purpose in life now is to uphold those walls, by whatever means necessary, so while I don’t condone his behavior, nor do I support mentally abusive relationships, I do from a psychological standpoint, think that it would help Billy that you don’t get scared easily. 

Seeing people get so scared, even if it’s by his own doing, breaks him down more and more every time, a little at a time, and it would change everything for him to be met by something else than that immediate fear. He would be faced with an outcome he hasn’t experienced before, which is being seen as something more than a monster; or more specifically to him, being seen as something other than a replica of his dad, because I can guarantee you that that’s something that keeps him up at night. 

Anyone can say that they understand, that they know where someone is coming from, that even if they don’t understand, they can see a persons reasons. But a lot of the times, this is just a case of empty words. Billy knows this and that’s another reason that he doesn’t let people in when they try to get closer, and he proves his point by getting angry at them and seeing the way they react. All of them get scared and leave. Rightfully so, but it also does proves the point in his logic. 

You say that you have a calming and grounding effect on people which is something he’d really benefit from, as well. He naturally surrounds himself with people who match his energy; impulsive, wild, preferably illegal, with little to no thought of consequences. That’s his form of self-harm - to constantly surround himself with things and people that are bad for him, who likes his bad boy-image and encourages his bad behavior.

What he needs is something else entirely; and that is to be in a calm environment. He needs silence, peace, and even if just for a while, just anything but excitement. He needs someone who won’t encourage his chaotic and reckless lifestyle like most of the people he hangs out with do, in order to bring himself back down to earth and find himself again. 

Once he actually meets someone genuine and like-minded and realizes that they’re there to stay, he’d most likely accept the help he’s offered. And after that, he would be so loving toward his significant other because he’d never want her to feel like he does. He would want her to be the happiest person on the planet and if there’s something I’ve learned, myself, it’s that the people who love the hardest are usually the ones who have been loved the least. So if you were feeling insecure, he would lift you up and compliment you constantly, always let you know how beautiful and amazing he finds you, and how lucky he is to have you. He’d be so overly loving and appreciative toward you and everything you do that you’d rarely even have the time to get stuck with your self-doubt.

He, too, feels like he’s undeserving of love, because when has he ever been shown differently? So I also think it would give him somewhat of a wake-up call to see someone he cares about, or just such a kind, genuine person in general, feeling like that. At the same time, I also think he’d react strongly to the way you accept yourself and refuse to change for anyone despite all the self-doubt you have, because that requires an insane amount of strength. It would probably inspire him a lot to be better, himself.

Billy would, most definitely, be the one to initiate contact with you just like he does every other female in his presence. Maybe it’s my mind being too mushed together by all the fanfiction I’ve read over the years, but I feel that once he got to know you, he would just fall for you on the spot. Not just “fall”, either. He’d trip on his shoelaces, fall on his face and roll down a flight of stairs once he finally managed to wrap his head around the fact that you understand, that you care and that you’re not going anywhere.

After initiating contact and coming to that realization, he wouldn’t mind just spending time with you in silence. All that talking he does is nothing more than a façade he’s put up to feel less out of place, less pathetic about being so weak around his dad, but it’s not the real him at all. Billy has been cold and guarded for so long that he, just like you, no longer knows how to communicate his feelings through words, either. Instead, he tends to show his emotions through his actions, so I can imagine there being a lot of silence. Mutual silence.

Would he still enjoy having genuine conversations with you? Yes, absolutely. As would he never hesitate to joke around if you felt down and needed to laugh. But he would also feel safe enough with you to be silent and vulnerable, without feeling that pressure to always keep talking and acting like he does when he’s with other people. He pretends to be comfortable, pretends to fit in, but in reality, he feels out of place, too. He’s felt unwanted, judged and misunderstood for most of his life just like you describe yourself to have done.

He has fooled around with a lot of girls but he’s still touch-starved, because no-strings-attached relations doesn’t do anything for him other than provide a temporary distraction. It never gives him the emotional, sentimental, meaningful proximity that he needs, so you have in common to crave physical touch and it would be a mutual thing for the two of you to show your emotions through touch rather than words.

You also have your love for music in common, and it’s so fitting because you like the same genres, which would only give him another way to be free around you. I can just imagine the two of you belting out your highest notes, totally off-key, while blaring rock music in his car.

To finish it off, loyalty is something he values above everything which is why he can never really hold on to long-term relationships or friendships. The only person who has ever been truly loyal to him was his mom, and even she made the active choice to leave him in the end, which is where his commitment issues stem from. So the fact that you’re genuinely loyal will be a complete game-changer. 

He, too, loves the feeling of being free, and I have no doubt in my mind that the two of you would find ways to feel that way together without him going back to his old, problematic methods.

Like I’ve mentioned before, I definitely don’t condone his behavior nor do I encourage anyone to stay in a toxic and abusive relationship, whether it be mental, emotional, or physical abuse. I don’t like savior-complexes and I don’t encourage anyone to get together with a “bad boy” because they think they can “cHaNgE HiM”.

But I feel like Billy is one of those cases that has certain circumstances that makes him a bit of an exception. He’s made some reaaaally bad choices and treated people very badly which he still has to be held accountable for, but going forward, he could be an amazing person if only he got reminded of what it feels like to be loved. Because at this point, he’s probably completely forgotten it, and living without love for so long will drive any person into madness.

I still wouldn’t recommend someone heading into a relationship with him solely for the purpose of “changing him”, but I do think that, if the right person came along on random, these changes wouldn’t at all be impossible.

The way he behaves toward people can’t be excused and he still needs to own up to his behavior and mistakes, but I think we’ve gotten it proven at the end of last season that he actually does want to be better and that all he needed toward the end was to be shown some genuine love in order to be able to make that change. 

 PEAKY BLINDERS

I ship you with Arthur Shelby!

Arthur is like Billy in a lot of ways, so this is a controversial one too for the same reasons, but Arthur is also very different.

While Billy has built up tall, strong, practically non-penetrable walls around himself to avoid having to feel anything, Arthur is much more emotional and aware of his mistakes since he never really managed to use his trauma to build up a protective wall, but rather just let them pile up without knowing how to properly process them so that he’s now stuck having to feel it all at once with no way out. 

He was left really vulnerable after his dad left which, I think, made him more open for the trauma he experienced during the war. It is my honest opinion that, had his dad still been in the picture, he would’ve been a lot less unstable today. But, as we know, his dad left him and his siblings, and that was the first trigger to a long line of domino bricks.

At this point, he’s so damaged that he has no sense of self-worth, whatsoever. He doesn’t feel worthy of love or a good life even though he wishes and dreams of it, so once he actually finds someone who wants to be with him, he falls hard, and would do anything in his power to be the best possible partner.

He’d be so romantic, so loving, so eager to please that he’d agree to pretty much anything requested of him. He’d abandon all of his other responsibilities to just live a happy life with you so living peacefully in a secluded area in a cottage with lots of animals is not something he would be opposed to at all. Nor would taking late-night strolls or staying in with you when everyone else goes out to drink be, because I’m certain that the only reason he drinks is because being sober on his own is too painful. 

His way of acting out with anger and violence is nothing more than a product of his environment. Every day, every sound, every smell, every person he surrounds himself with, are triggers to his multiple traumas and the longer he surrounds himself with chaos, the more he’s going to lose himself to his anger – because anger is the only emotion through which he knows how to handle his trauma, as no one has ever tried helping him onto a healthier road of recovery but rather just told him to “suck it up”.

So the fact that you’re so kind, calm, sympathetic and understanding, and that you’re recognize where anger, frustration and despair comes from, that you’re open and impartial toward everyone without any judgment or prejudice, and also have a calming and grounding effect on people would just help him so much. Everyone else that he frequently surrounds himself with are big parts of the problem that is his mental illnesses and aggressive and violent tendencies. They do nothing to help but rather encourages it and fuels the fire so they can use his anger for their own winning.

He’s just constantly told to suck it up, be a man, have a drink or three, snort a line of cocaine, blah blah blah. The way his mental instability is treated by his inner circle is the literal embodiment of toxic masculinity and does nothing to help his case, because then he starts hating himself even more for feeling all the emotions that he does.

So, once given the correct support that he needs, he would pay you right back by making sure you never go a day without being told how amazing you are and how lucky he is to have you. He would throw, or at least try to his absolute best ability to do so, all of your insecurities out the window before they’d even gotten the chance to get through the door. He would literally adore you and, metaphorically speaking, be ready to eat straight out of your palm if told to do so.

All he needs is kindness, understanding and most of all patience, because while he is a work in progress, he is trying.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Magical Loopholes

Chapter 33: Interrogation Techniques

He was going to kill Snow White's Prince Charming if it was the last thing he did.

He regretted making a deal with him to run this investigation "his way." Some part of him had known he would from the very moment he'd felt the magic binding them in their accord, but still, he'd made the deal out of desperation. And where had it gotten him? A front-row seat to observation after observation of people who didn't want to help, didn't know anything, or couldn't be bothered. David was nearly as useless as Maurice had been, just on a larger scale.

He approached everyone who owned a business on Main Street, starting with his shop, since he assumed that's where she would have been most comfortable, and working his way down. Sarah Fischer, formerly known as the Ice Queen, in the shop closest to his, hadn't seen her, though the pair of them stared at each other with a sort of understanding that promised to stay out of one another's business. Enemy or not, he felt oddly comfortable in the resolution that she was not the one who had taken his Belle. They tried others. The people in Mary Margaret's flat, the garden center, the mechanic, the vet who worked at David's shelter, half the staff at La Tandoor, all the staff at Modern Fashion. So far, there was no luck, though he wasn't always allowed to make that judgment for himself.

Oh, he let David do the talking, just as their deal required, but when he was able, he stayed close, listened to the conversations, watched the faces of those who were interviewed. There were more than a few times though, when people eyed him suspiciously or told David they wouldn't talk with him around. In those cases, David ended up sending him elsewhere, behind a wall, outside a store, or even across the street…as he was standing now.

David was making inquiries with a man, a young man, who appeared to have gotten a flat on Main Street and was just now repairing it. He wasn't a store owner, but the repairs meant he'd been there for long enough to see something, and David had asked before he looked between the pair of them. "I'm not talking to you, man," he stated before he'd barely gotten a question out. He knew the tone well enough by now, and without being asked, he turned to walk across the street.

He hated these interviews. Mostly because they were useless and because each time this happened, it made him nervous and excited and anxious all over again. Were these people sending him away because they'd seen something, and they didn't want him to retaliate? So far, the answer was no. But he couldn't help the thought from passing each time it happened.

Finally, David appeared to say goodbye to the individual, crossed the street, and approached him again. He held his breath in anticipation. Was this the one? Had the boy seen something? Belle?

"Do you remember turning a butcher into a pig?" David asked with frustration. The question caught him off guard. It wasn't something he'd expected in the midst of this. Turning a butcher into a pig certainly sounded like something he might have done, but the memory didn't particularly stick out. And he didn't see why it would have been important now. Unless, of course, that man had intelligence that the butcher was now human again, and they'd taken Belle as revenge! Belle alone with a butcher and a sharp blade…his stomach churned at the thought.

"Can't say that I do. Why?"

"Well, he does. Apparently, it was his father!" he snapped, pushing the drawing of Belle into his chest and taking off down Main Street. "I'm beginning to understand why nobody wants to help you."

He understood now. The boy wasn't a witness; he was an enemy, someone who hated him even if he couldn't remember hurting him or his butcher-father. This was why he didn't want Belle out here alone. In his long life, he'd made too many enemies; they were lurking around every damn corner, it seemed!

"W-well has he seen Belle?" he asked as he struggled to keep up with him.

"Afraid not."

"Okay, so what's next?"

"Granny's," he answered. "We can see who else you terrorized there."

Many people. He suspected the answer would be nearly all of them, including Widow Lucas herself. Oh, he hated the idea that Belle was out here around these people, that they might figure out who she was, what she meant to him. He hated that they might tell her about his past before he did. Not that he made any progress on that. He'd liked to believe he would have told her about Bae when they went to the cabin next weekend, but…he couldn't even tell her when she'd asked this morning.

He glanced at David. His secret that he was David and not James, how had he managed to get up the courage to tell Snow when it would have put so much on the line for him, risked so much! How did he do it?

"Look, uh…can I ask you a question? A-about you and Mary Margaret?" The words were out of his mouth before he'd given them permission to be. David stopped and turned to him. "H-how…how does that work?"

The look on his face was suspicious, and he instantly regretted the question. Suddenly he wondered why the truth about Bae couldn't have done that too. If it had, then maybe he and Belle could be at home right now enjoying an honest conversation over breakfast.

"Are you asking dating advice?"

"Dating Advice"?! Him?! Hell no. He and Belle were so far beyond "dating," and this…this had nothing to do with dating or wooing. Though, now that he thought about it, he wasn't entirely sure what it was about either. It was a stupid question.

"Course not, no."

David took a breath, looked around, and then sighed as he turned back to him. "Honesty," he answered with a shrug as if it were all obvious. "That's how we did it. Hard work and being honest with one another."

"Well…" he huffed to himself as David, and he turned to stride down the sidewalk again. "I don't lie."

He hadn't meant to respond to David so much as he'd thought the words out loud. But David heard them. Every word.

"There's a difference between literal truth and honesty of the heart. Nothing taught me that more than this curse…"

He opened his mouth to respond, but just like with Belle, nothing seemed to want to come out. It was understandable. David hadn't told him anything he didn't already know, and he certainly didn't give him an answer. He wanted to be honest with Belle, truly he did. He just didn't understand how to make the words come out, where the courage to say it all came from. Maybe he should have taken the deal she'd proposed weeks ago, left the entire thing up to magic. Maybe he should take a truth serum still in his pocket when he found her and let her question him. It might be easier than finding the courage he'd never been able to summon up even when he'd been human.

The moment they came through the diner door, Granny's sharp eyes were on him as they hadn't been in years. It was a reminder that he hadn't been back to this place since before the Curse had broken, and this was the first time they were face to face since he'd banished her away to deal with Regina. The history of their first and only encounter lay between them, yet another thing that Belle didn't know, and he doubted she'd want to hear. He suspected that was why it was so difficult to tell her things, if she knew about his past, about what he'd done to dear Granny, for instance, she'd have left him anyway.

"What can I get you?" Ruby asked cautiously, her eyes moving between him and her grandmother.

David ignored the look as Granny disappeared into the back. He pulled the picture he'd been holding free from his hands and gave it to the she-wolf.

"We're looking for this girl, goes by the name Belle. Maybe you saw her in here or out on the street…?"

Ruby looked over at the picture, and he grew giddy as he heard her heart suddenly beat faster. That was the first time that had happened since they started questioning people. Why, he wondered.

"Belle, huh?" the girl smiled awkwardly, glancing back and forth between David and him. It made his chest squeeze as he heard her heart begin to beat even faster than before. "Sorry, doesn't ring a bell."

Lie. But despite the fact that he wanted to step forward and say something about it, magic wrapped around him and kept him in place. Damn the deal they'd made. He wanted to snarl, yell, and use magic to do what he did best and call her out for her lies. But he remained where he was. And David…

Fortunately for him, David caught Ruby's apprehension. He could tell by the way he glanced back over his shoulder at him before stepping closer to the she-wolf. She-wolf…the full moon would be coming up soon, the thought of Belle out in the world alone when a creature like Ruby would have her magic back…her cloak had once been in his store. He'd sold it when he'd been Mr. Gold. Who had bought it? If returning it to her meant Belle was kept safe, he'd buy it back in a heartbeat. Better yet, he'd happily trade it to her or make a brand new one if it meant she'd exchange the information she had for it.

"Ruby, listen to me," David whispered, lowering his voice so that a human would have had trouble hearing. But he was the Dark One, a simple turn of the head and a bit of magic had him listening to their every word.

"If you've come across her, you've got to tell me. I'll make sure nothing bad happens."

"Yeah, but what about him?"

"I've got him! Trust me."

A pause had him holding his breath. "She was in earlier," the girl finally admitted. He moved his eyes back to her immediately. Belle was here. She'd been in this diner. With someone or by herself? "She was looking for a job. I pointed her in the direction of the library."

He swallowed. She'd been looking for a job? The library was right across the street from his shop. It was perfect for her, he'd thought so himself the first time he'd beheld it after his eyes had been opened. And Belle…she'd find it hard to resist the temptation of a book. But they'd been in that direction, and they hadn't seen her.

"Well, you think she went there?"

"Don't know," Ruby answered. "But, when you find her…" the girl walked back around the counter and pulled something from the back, setting it on the counter between them, "give her this. She left it in her booth."

"Well, that's mine," he swallowed, reaching for it.

"This" was a gray sweater that he recognized. It was one of the items that his magic had made for Belle up in the cabin. He'd liked it because it was warm; she'd liked it because it was soft. She was fond of wearing it outside. But apparently, in her haste to go to the library, she'd…

Suddenly he was aware of Ruby and David looking at him, aware of how solemn he must have looked staring down at it.

"She didn't have anything for the cold," he explained needlessly. He tried to pretend that wasn't the reason they were staring and focused his energy instead on keeping his blush at bay.

"You sure you'll watch out for her?" Ruby asked David after a moment of sheer awkwardness, at least on his part.

"Yes. Why?"

"I think…I think I can find her."

He glanced up at Ruby to find her eyes lingering on him for far longer than they ever had. The sympathy he saw in them made the Dark Ones in his mind frenzy and the beast in his chest claw to the surface. But the part of him that loved Belle, the human part of him…it crushed all of those to the side. Though her look made him feel naked before her, he felt hope. She could find her? Ruby could get him back to Belle? He'd do anything for that.

"Lately, since things changed, I've been, uh, a little more sensitive to odors."

"What, you can smell her?" he translated with shock and horror.

The girl didn't answer, not directly. Instead, she held out her hand for the sweater in his hand. Automatically he handed it over to her once more, and Ruby smirked.

"I guess it's cause of the wolf thing," she explained. Then she brought the sweater to her nose and inhaled.

[auroras-blend]

What Matters

Summary: POV from Patience. Starring baby Marilyn, Emilie Marks, and a fishwife.

Patience let out a frustrated huff as she struggled to strap Marilyn into her stroller, who was determined to wail throughout the entire process. “You do this every time,” she snapped, not that her daughter could understand her.

Marilyn always acted as if this was a brand new terrifying experience. “Stop being so damn dramatic,” she huffed as she finally clasped the buckles together.

Her daughter still continued to wail until Patience not so softly popped a pacifier in her mouth, which silenced her quite quickly. She pulled a white lamb plush from the car and gave it to her daughter who clasped onto it with a desperate fervor. It was Marilyn’s very favorite toy, courtesy of the pastor’s wife. She seemed content to just stare at it rather than play with it, which was strange to Patience but it kept the infant distracted, and really, that was all that mattered. She brushed the strands of hair out of her face that had fallen out of her harried bun before sighing and moving to push the stroller towards the store.

Everyone knew everyone and their business in Summerfield, which was why trips to the grocery store always bothered Patience. Marilyn received soft looks and bright smiles whereas she received critical eyes and grimaces, but Patience couldn’t really bring herself to care. She entered the store, the temperature of her body already dropping as cool air blew in her face, a refreshing change from the scorching summer heat. The store already held a myriad of familiar faces, which completely defeated the purpose of coming in so early in the day and hoping to avoid the crowds. “Hello Miss Winslow,” the greeter smiled, “I hope you’re having a nice day today!”

“Just fine, thank you,” she said to be polite though no genuineness could be found in her tone.

She pushed past and immediately set her sights for the produce section, hoping to cool down further. Her green-eyed gaze remained focused on her task dead ahead because if she only looked forward, she could ignore the judgmental looks that several housewives were giving her. It had been about a year since she gave birth to Marilyn but the scandalous event of her birth and Patience’s status as a single mother and social pariah hadn’t faded. Summerfield residents, as friendly as they seemed, were dull people with dull lives who pretended otherwise and sought amusement from gossip. At the moment, Patience and Marilyn were their favorite topics. It seemed Patience was the only woman in town who didn’t hide her dissatisfaction with the fact that she had a repetitive, restricting, and overall mundane life that’s primary stressor came from motherhood. At least I’m honest.

She was unlikable to everyone except her daughter who looked at her with reverence and the occasional hurt when her affection for her mother wasn’t returned. Part of her felt bad because she did know deep down that Marilyn was not at fault, that she was unluckily and violently brought into this world to suffer a miserable existence with a miserable woman.

Marilyn had been nothing but pleasant if Patience were being honest, or as pleasant as a baby could be. Her birth had been quick and much easier than the first, and she had been a courteous five pounds that hadn’t torn apart her mother’s insides. She was easy to love, to everyone except the woman who mattered to her the most. Perhaps Marilyn had some instinct deep down to behave and be agreeable unless her mother decided that she finally had enough of her and do something terrible.

Patience rummaged through the fresh produce, something she hadn’t done in a long time. Without a vengeance to pursue, bridges to burn, and misery to face, she had more time to at least try and take care of herself. Or at least the illusion of caring for herself, as if she actually used the produce to cook instead of having it sit in her fridge for an eternity in favor of eating frozen meals and drinking a few too many glasses of wine or whiskey. She wasn't quite so picky these days.

It didn’t take long to cross most of the tasks off her list and lead herself to the most aggravating part of the store: the baby aisle. There was nothing wrong with the aisle in particular with the exception of her forced motherhood being thrown in her face and the condescending stares from the other mothers shopping for their brood. Nothing wrong at all, she thought bitterly. Thankfully when she arrived, no one was around which settled her nerves about picking out the necessary items for her daughter, specifically formula. It had been a swift decision for Patience to put Marilyn on a formula diet. Just the thought of her child pawing and nursing from her breast physically repulsed her; she had tried the first few days and then vowed to never do it again.

It would be, of course, an unacceptable decision to the other mothers of Summerfield and unfortunately for her, they were about to be privy to that information. Her luck at being the sole presence in the aisle didn’t last long and it just so happened to be when she was picking up the formula that Mrs. Coombs decided to make an appearance and let out a fake laugh, “Patience! How funny to run into you here!”

Funny? I have a damn baby. She pressed her lips into a tight smile, forcing herself to at least look polite. “Look at little Mary-,”

“Marilyn,” Patience corrected as she held the box tightly.

“Marilyn! An even better name. She’s gotten so big, the time just flies doesn’t it?”

Not fast enough. “Sure does,” she lied as she dumped several boxes into her shopping bag.

“She’s really turning into a beauty. She has your eyes, doesn’t she?” she smiled before it became tighter with malice, “Not your hair though…”

Patience could usually brush off the snide comments, but the reminder of the man who put that child inside her made her sick. “Did she get it from her father?”

Patience’s body tensed, her stomach began to roll. “Yes.”

Her reply was short and curt, and by God’s grace, Mrs. Coombs dropped the topic in favor of sending Patience a new criticism. “Oh, formula?” she asked as she stressed the word as if it were the vilest thing in existence, “Are you having trouble? Some women do. It came pretty easily to me, but my sister had to have a lactation consultant.”

The insinuation was there. Bitch. She refused to be ashamed for not letting her daughter nurse from her breasts. It wasn't as if Marilyn was suffering or lacking nourishment in any way, and it's no one's damn business. Patience’s smile turned smug. “Actually, I can but I’m choosing not to breastfeed.”

The disapproving and aghast frown on Mrs. Coombs face made it worth it. She knew she’d be the talk of the woman’s circle of friends, but just the sight of making the woman uncomfortable and being shamelessly confident with her decision made it worth it. Marilyn giggled behind her pacifier, amused by the face of the critical fishwife. “Oh really?” the woman gasped, “Well, there are more benefits if-.”

“How lovely to see you, ladies, here!”

Jesus Christ. Patience sighed and turned around to see Mrs. Marks. “Emilie!” cooed Mrs. Coombs who brushed past Patience and slightly knocked Marilyn’s stroller to the side.

Patience grabbed the stroller to prevent it from hitting the shelves, causing Marilyn to whine as she was jostled in her seat. The two women embraced as Patience ignored the pair, or at least tried to. “Fancy to see you in this aisle! Oh, does that mean there's happy news?” gasped Mrs. Coombs.

“Um...not yet,” she could hear Mrs. Marks say, pain and discomfort in her voice.

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll happen someday!”

“Yes, well, we’re praying that it does,” Mrs. Marks said tensely.

Why does she have so much trouble getting pregnant? I'd switch with her if I could. It seemed cosmically unfair that she was saddled with an unwanted child while the Marks failed in their desperate attempts to have one. There were many times where Patience entertained leaving Marilyn with them one day and never return. She'd be better off with anyone but me. However, whenever she was ready to put Marilyn in the car and drop her off, a pang of religious guilt consumed her. She's your atonement. “Why are you here then if-,”

“That’s not really your business, is it?” hissed Patience who had tired of hearing of her pester the woman.

Mrs. Coombs was a busy body who aggravated her to no end. Patience never truly made an effort to convince the woman of her politeness or that she liked her, but as the pastor's wife, it was Mrs. Marks job to do so. Politeness for Emilie Marks was mandatory, so if she couldn't tell Mrs. Coombs to fuck off then Patience would.

Grey eyes narrowed towards Patience. “Your tone isn’t appreciated.”

“Your questions aren’t appreciated,” Patience snapped, throwing a box of diapers into her bag.

“Now ladies-” Emilie tried to interject.

“Are you capable of being anything other than unpleasant?”

Mrs. Coombs volume wasn’t much louder but it upset Marilyn and sent her into a fit of tears. Great. “See what you did?” Patience huffed as she walked around to grab the pacifier from the floor.

“Are you really going to put that back in her mouth? You know, most mothers comfort their babies when they cry.”

Of course, at that moment, Marilyn began to wail louder. “Mrs. Coombs,” snapped Mrs. Marks, “You’re upsetting the child.”

Patience brushed the pacifier off and although she was tempted to push it back in between her daughter’s lips, she put it in a side compartment and unstrapped her baby. Shame had crept back into her body with the woman’s comment so she reluctantly took Marilyn out and settled her against her chest, patting her back and shushing her. Snot and tears began to stain her dress, and the loud wails pierced her ears until they were ringing. I hate this. I hate it. Stop fucking crying. Just stop. Just stop...Patience herself was starting to feel as miserable as her daughter who upon receiving physical comfort from her mother started to quiet down. It was always such a special treat for the baby that it immediately put her in a good mood.

By the time Marilyn’s cries turned into hiccups, Mrs. Coombs was gone. I don’t want to do this anymore. When Patience turned around, Mrs. Marks was still there helping put her items back into her basket. “You don’t have to-”

“No, it’s alright. I’m happy to,” Mrs. Marks said as she packed the items tightly.

“Thank you,” Patience said in relief.

Mrs. Marks attached the basket on the rack beneath Marilyn’s stroller. She didn’t hate Mrs. Marks. If she were honest with herself, she didn’t really know her or care to know her, but the woman had always been polite and gave her a genuine smile that was free of judgment. She leaves that to God. “Thank you for what you said,” the woman said quietly.

Patience resettled Marilyn on her hip. “Well it wasn’t any of her business,” she said frankly, “She’s too nosy for her own good.”

She found that description quite generous given that there were other adjectives she wanted to use that was inappropriate to say in front of a pastor’s wife. “Poor little girl,” she cooed.

Marilyn blinked tiredly. She was always tired after a big cry and would fall asleep quickly. A redeeming feature. “I see she still has the little lamb,” Emilie smiled and picked it up.

Marilyn made a grabbing motion and clutched it tightly in her chubby little hands. “She really likes it,” Patience noted.

Conversations about baby toys were never really what she pictured herself talking about in this stage of her life, or in any stage really. Motherhood may have been her reality but it was never a topic she wanted to discuss. “Thank you,” Patience added, “But we-,”

“Oh, I’ll leave you to your shopping, but it was lovely to see both of you. You and Marilyn, obviously,” she smiled, sending a veiled insult towards Mrs. Coombs but paused before she pushed her cart forward, “The church has a free nursery if you’d ever like to drop her off. We’re open from eight in the morning to five in the afternoon on weekdays. I run it and would be happy to look after her during the week.”

The news almost made Patience sob with relief. She had to return to work soon and had taken on a second job to get by, but neither made her stay past three. That meant she could have two hours, two blissful hours to myself on her workdays and a day off when she wasn't working. “Oh thank you,” she said with a watery voice.

“Of course. Like I said, I’d be happy to. She seems like such a sweet baby,” she smiled at Marilyn, “You can drop her off next Monday.”

“Next Monday,” Patience nodded as she plopped Marilyn back into her stroller, who thankfully was too tired to protest being buckled in.

With a last smile and farewell, Mrs. Marks disappeared down the next aisle. Patience took a shaky breath and finished her shopping as giddiness rose into her body at the thought of a break from her daughter. She’d have two hours to herself every day, and then an entire day off on Wednesday. She knew Marilyn wouldn’t like it at first but it’d be for the best. As she put Marilyn in the car, she said with a smile in her voice, “It’ll all work out.”

Whether it was to Marilyn or herself, she didn’t know. But that hardly mattered.

[lxvesickreality]

a consequence worth taking 3/?

Request: none, but a few commented asking for a part 3

Pairing: Cisco Ramon x reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, a lot of pov changes

Word count: 2438

Add on: i have no idea how many parts this will have to be honest. sorry for this part being so shitty, the next part will be much better and much longer. i just felt the need to update something that involved this imagine. also, y/m/n means your mothers name and y/m/l/n means your mothers last name.

gif is NOT mine, credit to owners

"Barry, you need to go back. You need to make sure she's okay. We have no idea if she's stable and what she's capable of. You need to be careful though, if both of your dark matter counteracted, it could be harmful to you and possibly her." Barry nodded in agreement then raced off into the night back to the lab where they left their friend. With a feeling of mixed emotions, Caitlin spun on her heel to face her friend. "Seriously, Cisco?" 

His brown eyes glanced up at her and she felt a twinge of guilt in her stomach when she saw his own guilt shimmering through his eyes. "What?" he snapped. 

"That's why you've been so mean to her? For a mistake you both made? Do you have any idea how you've been making her feel, Cisco? I get that you feel bad about hurting Gypsy and doing something like that so quickly but it wasn't just her. It was you too. You have no idea if we just lost our friend, our teammate." 

"I understand, Caitlin." 

"I don't think you do, Cisco. We have no idea what went wrong and what happened to her. She's obviously unstable right now." taking a seat on a bench where it's a bus stop, she had an idea form in her mind. "We need to find Y/N's mother. She knows more than any of us." 

Team’s perspective

3 days later

“Did you guys find anything?” Barry flashed into the Cortex in his suit, taking off his mask to reveal his face to his friends. The disappointing expression on everyone’s face was enough to give him his answer. “Really? Nothing at all?”

“There haven't been any traces of dark matter anywhere and nothing in the facial recognition. She knows where everything is, Barry, along with knowing what we are doing.” Caitlin declared, sympathy seeping from her words and she was beginning to sound hopeless. “It’s going to be hard to find her when she knows everything.”

“Nobody ever explained to me what happened,” Joe piped up from the wall he was leaning on with Cecile next to him with a frown plastered on her face. 

Barry sighed glancing at the floor, “Cisco and her had-”

“Barry tried to share his powers with her and it triggered the dark matter that was coursing through her,” Caitlin gave Cisco a knowing look and he continued, “We had sex last month and I was-actually I’ve been a complete douchebag to her because I was still hurting a little bit over the break up and I felt guilty for sleeping with Y/N so I took everything out on her.”

Not everyone knew the truth about why he was so angry with Y/N so when it was spoken of, shock rippled through all of them at once but a tiny bit of anger was thrown in the mix with Cecile and Iris. Cisco kept his eyes glued to the floor finding it more fascinating than the judgmental stares coming from the team he looks up to as family. He was tearing himself up inside about how the whole situation came about and how he treated his best friend with so much hatred when it was a two person thing. Not only did he lose Cynthia, but it looks like he lost his best friend and he was the only one to blame for that area. 

“As much as I’d love to give you a really big lecture, Cisco, we need to find Y/N before it’s too late. DeVoe still wants her and with her out there alone, it’ll be easier to take her.” Iris claimed, taking a step forward to wrap an arm around Barry, a glare set in stone for Cisco who gladly accepted the feelings towards him. He deserved it. "Have you found her mom, Caitlin?"

"No, I haven't. I even looked through Y/N's phone and she doesn't have a number for her or her dad. She had no text message or phone call in this phone's history that pointed to her parents direction. Her father isn't in the system either. I found her birth certificate and that name for her dad is nowhere. So either he doesn't exist or-" 

"Her real father doesn't know he has a daughter and her mom put something else down." Barry finished her sentence. "Let's continue trying to find her mom. Did it say in her profile where she last was?" 

"In Denver, Colorado at a rehab facility. But that was 2 years ago. She hasn't checked in anywhere that we know of. She could've changed her identity. There's an endless amount of possibilities of what happened to her. All we know is that's the last place anyone ever saw her."

"Okay, then, we go there. It's a little over an hour drive." 

"I'm in," Iris states and Joe, Cisco, and Barry nod to show where they stood too. 

Caitlin gave a small, gentle smile but in her gut, she felt something turn and it didn't feel good. This visit can give them all the answers but will the answers be worth it if they're bad? 

~ 

"This is it. This is the last place anyone saw Y/N's mother." said Caitlin.

"Think she's still here? Just hiding under a different name? She did say something was coming so it would make sense for her to get another identity." Barry questioned, taking a step forward to examine the place some more. 

Cisco shrugged, "Who knows. I mean it wouldn't make sense for her to stay here for this long. She could've been talking about the particle accelerator too when she told Y/N about something bad coming." 

The team started walking into the place one by one with Barry the last one. His eyes danced around him catching a small glimpse of y/c/h but shook it off thinking his mind was playing tricks on him and continued his way inside. Y/N couldn't be here of all places, she told them she didn't want to see her mother again but on the other hand, she wasn't stable and she doesn't have any other family members. Barry knew Y/N couldn’t possibly be here especially if she really knew the team, they’d eventually come to see her mother. 

The secretary peeked up from behind the big glasses that sat on the bridge of her nose and grinned, “How can I help you?” 

“Uh, hi, we’re here to see Y/M/N Y/M/L/N.” Caitlin revealed with a small smile of her own. Immediately the secretary’s entire body language changed and the sweet smile she once had dropped from her face. She knew something.

“I-uh I’m sorry but she isn’t here anymore. She was released last week.” 

The team was baffled, only last week? It was most likely why they couldn’t find anything on her, she was still here at the facility and has had barely any time to get on her feet. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am very sure. That lady could not be forgotten. Kept going on and on about how people have powers and what not, that her whole family has powers at that. She’s an adult who lives in fantasy land, we only released her because she requested to be let go. The doctor she was assigned to signed the discharge papers within those hours. Everyone was ready to let her go.” 

It wasn’t shocking to say the least that a woman who struggled with drug abuse and was put on more drugs would not have sensored herself. They knew what kind of medications she was on, some very strong and were antipsychotics continuously being upped through the dosages. This woman needed the help to get off these drugs and was constantly being put in rehab by her own flesh and blood only to get put on prescriptions that could’ve easily altered her mind. 

Caitlin nodded to show she was listening and Iris was the next one to speak letting the secretary’s eyes fall on her, “Do you know where we can find her?” 

“I’m not legally allowed to give out that information.”

“We know that you don’t allow patients out of the facility without having a place to go. We really need this information. We’re trying to find her daughter and we think that she might’ve gone to see her.” Cisco announced from behind Iris. 

“Look, I’m not allowed to give out information but,” the woman grasped onto her glasses taking them off of her face to appear more intimidating. “if you are telling the truth about her daughter, I may be able to help.” 

“We are telling the truth.” Barry spoke. 

Nodding, the secretary put her glasses back on to the bridge of her nose and turned to type away on the computer in front of her. The team heard the printer go off and looking around to make sure no one was watching, she got up from her desk chair to retrieve the paper. It was a copy of the discharge papers, front and back. “You didn’t get that from me. Are we clear?” 

Everyone nodded and spun on their heel to head out but Barry stopped causing everyone else to as well. “Barry?” 

“Thi-this isn’t right,” he stuttered. 

Iris furrowed her eyebrows, taking a closer step to her man. “What do you mean, Bar?” 

“This says Y/N’s address.” 

“Damn it,” Cisco cursed under his breath at the news. “That means Y/N probably has her and we can’t get anything from her if the person we’re trying to ask about has her.” 

“I’ll speed around the city, try to see if I can find her in any public places.” the team stepped outside trying to find a good place to hide Barry’s secret and to let him do what he needs to do in order to find the mother of their friend. 

“Check alleyways. She may have just gotten out of rehab but she could be shooting up already meaning she’s also off her meds.” Cisco said.

Caitlin nodded, “If she’s off her meds, she could be out of this world to put it nicely.” 

With that knowledge, Barry sped off leaving the team to stay put where they were. Despite not knowing the city very well he sure could find everything pretty easily. The public places didn’t hold the woman he was looking for so he sped off to look in alley’s. One alley, two alley’s, three, four, five alleys and he caught a glimpse of a person in a black zip up hoodie and a woman not any taller than 5′5 at least. This woman fit the description of their friend’s mother and the saddest part of it was Cisco was right, she was using again. 

“Y/M/N?” he called out. The man in the black zip up hoodie barely even glanced up before taking off down the alleyway leaving the woman to fend for herself. It was her. Y/N looked almost identical to her mother taking every feature she could inherit from her but the difference was the holes that stopped healing on her arms from the heroine and the bags under her eyes. She looked older than she really was and much more scrawny than the picture they found a few days previously or more the mugshot. Grey hair was starting to come from her roots and wrinkles were forming around her facial features. 

“H-how do you know who I am?” she was understandably terrified of the sight before her, she didn’t know who he was. “Who are you?” 

“My name is Barry Allen. I need your help.” 

“Why would I help you? I don’t even know you.” she fires back. So Y/N also got the sass from her mother, that was good to know. 

“It’s about your daughter, Y/N.” 

Her body language changed almost as quickly as the secretary’s did when the team and himself talked to her but this change was more positive, it looked almost relaxing to see her transform like that. Her shoulders dropped from the defensive state they were in and her eyes had hope shimmering in them.

“Y/N? My baby?” she covered her mouth attempting to hold back the tears. 

He nodded, “Yes, ma’am. Could you help my friends and I please?” 

“I want to know what I’m helping with first.” 

“We don’t know what happened but your daughter unleashed her powers and she’s missing. She almost blew up an entire building, ma’am.” 

She gasped loudly, “She got her powers? Oh, no, no, no,” 

“Are you alright?” 

“What was she doing? What were her powers like?” 

Barry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the question but answered it nonetheless, “It was like lightning,” 

“Oh no, what have you guys done?” 

“Ma’am, I don’t think I understand what you mean.” said Barry.

“Those powers weren’t supposed to come out. They weren’t allowed to, I had them sealed shut. Take me to your team now. I know exactly who you are, Flash.” 

He didn’t have much time to say anything before she was throwing herself at him telling him to speed to his team. There were many questions, some now involving how she knew him but ran to where his team awaited for his arrival only to find something he didn’t want to see. 

His whole team was on the ground, blood dripping from each of their noses and knocked out cold. Something happened. 

“Y/N,” was all he could get before he felt a bolt of electricity slither through him causing him to yell out in pain and fall to the floor not able to bare his own weight any longer. The darkness was calling for him and he desperately tried to stay awake to see who the culprit was, to see if he was right and to make sure his friends mother was alright. His eyes were trying to flutter close, to succumb to the darkness as the pain was so intense it hadn’t felt like anything he’s ever felt before even though he’s been through his fair share of fights. This was a trap, Y/N knew they were here and wanted her mother. How could they not have known? 

“Go to sleep, Flash,” Y/N came into his view, squatting down in front of him. “Otherwise, I’m going to have to take you out completely and I’d rather not do that in front of my mother.” 

Despite everything in him begging him to stay alive, he couldn’t fight anymore and fell into the darkness.

Tags: @night-girls-world @diva-1992 

[afterhoursfic]

Geralt isn't sterile, because of... whatever reasons you want (second set of mutations? just lucky?) and he gets off like crazy on breeding whores/women he forces. Maybe he'll accept sex as payment for a contract if the village is too poor to pay (or he insists on it even if they can, when he smells a cute little virgin,) growling about how he's going to get a witcher pup on them, so everyone knows what a ruined slut they are, while they cry and beg him not to but can't possibly stop him.

Warning: non con

I really loved this prompt and I hope you enjoy it.

P.s. my dirty talk is uh not great so forgive that please 

P.p.s The whole thing with the potion and letter in Oxenfurt is canon in the game so our boy could be out there doing this

.

When he got Shani to sneak him into Oxenfurt academy to look for information on O'Dimm, admittedly he didn't expect much, and he definitely didn't expect to see a letter posted on a door about his encounter with two academics in Flotsam what felt like decades ago.

In truth, he had forgotten about the whole encounter, of two men who approached him to ask if he would drink a potion, and against his better judgment, had done it. He didn't know the point in it, he was still a witcher, his hair stayed white, he didn't go blind, and his dick didn't shrink so could he be blamed for the whole thing being lost to the back of his mind.

Although now it is apparent that the potion did have a purpose, to make him fertile again, and the academics had even had a spy follow him to monitor his progress, or at least to have proof that the potion worked in the form of expanding bellies as they had called it.

Clearly, his reputation for bedding women preceded him, but as he thought back on the past year or so, most of his encounters had been with sorceresses, and in one memorable case a succubus, beings incapable of bearing child, although there could be one woman, Violet? Viola? that he had paid for at the Passiflora almost seven months past, and if he were to see if there was any truth to this, any chance that the potion even worked, that would be his best bet.

He abandoned his quest then, forgetting entirely about O'Dimm, Von Everec, and dirty dealings as he raced out of Oxenfurt and turned towards Novigrad.

~~~

It took a week until he reached the Passiflora and he'd barely stepped through the door before the Madame of the house was cussing him out for getting her best girl pregnant, too stunned about the whole situation he didn't even stop the woman from shoving him out of the brothel.

He barely had the mind to grab the woman's wrist, begging to know where Viola lived so he could find out the facts, he was supposed to be sterile after all and to make reparations as well. In the end, he had to use axii on the woman, but he managed to get an address out of her and it wasn't much longer that he was knocking on the woman's door.

As soon as it opened everything froze, he knew it was Viola in front of him with her swollen belly that looked ready to pop, the both of them staring at one another for a moment before she flew at him in a rage, slapping and hitting at any part of him she could reach until he finally calmed her with axii.

After almost 100 years of life, he knew whores worked with a strict pulling out policy for all men who entered, except for witchers, whos mutations meant that they were both sterile and unable to carry disease, perhaps one of the only perks they got from the whole ordeal.

He didn't need to debate about the probabilities of the child being his though, he could smell it on the woman, his scent just faintly as if it was under her skin, and something in him snapped at the thought. He did this, he fathered the life still growing in her and he latched onto the thought, let himself become addicted to it as he left the woman pregnant with his child in the street, barely remembering to lift the sign before he was heading for Crippled Kate's, a brothel on the docks who surely wouldn't turn away his coin even if the rumor of him fathering a child had reached them.

Sure enough, coin quickly passes hands and then he's being led to a room. Normally he would take his time, focus on the woman's pleasure by first getting her off on his mouth and then with two fingers before sliding into her like a hot knife into butter, ever eager not to add to the rumors about Witcher's being mindless beasts.

Now though he very much plays into the lie, can it be a lie when he shoves the woman to the bed, ignoring her protest as he climbed on top of her, and it's almost too easy to rip her underwear off and slide his cock into the tight, tight heat of her cunt as he quickly bottoms out.

He ignores the woman's scream as he instantly begins to pound into the woman, pushing her legs up until they're almost at her ears as he only fucks into her faster.

It's as if a fog has clouded his mind with the sole focus to fuck and breed, paying no mind to the tears streaking down the woman's face and her sobs for him to stop, he doesn't even feel it when she rakes her fingernails down his back, shoulders, hell even his face to deter him, instead it just spurs him to move faster, to fuck deeper as a growl emanates deep in his throat as he gets closer to the edge.

"How's it feel to be a witcher's bitch, stuffed on my cock and bred full of my come" The woman under him cries some more, broken sobs leaving tear tracks down her cheeks as his hips begin to lose their rhythm as he got closer to his release "What will the Madame say when your belly starts to grow with my child, nothing more than witcher's whore who bent arse up to be bred on my cock"

When all the girl does is plead for him to stop, it finally pushes him over the edge, slowing down his thrusts to drag out his orgasm as long as possible to coax every drop of come out of him to fulfill his promise to breed the bitch full.

When he's milked his cock dry he's left panting over her, cock still hard and eager for another go at her cunt, all while the girl is trying to wriggle away, to push him off of her. So when he rolls his hips into her again he watches her eyes go wide and tears threaten to spill over her cheeks before he slaps his hand across her mouth, muffling her screams now as he quickly picks up the pace of his hips, railing into the girl now as his hand gets slick with tears and snot as she sobs under him.

He doesn't last nearly as long this time, his cock still sensitive from the first time but with a noise somewhere between a growl and a groan he comes again, filling up her cunt with even more of his seed until he's left giving small aborted thrusts as the stimulation to his cock becomes too much and he finally pulls out.

He moves further down the bed to watch his come begin to leak out of her and chuckles when he sees her clench as if trying to keep it in "For all you're crying, it seems you like being full of my come"

The woman shoves him away and scrambles to the top of the bed, eyes frantic and wild "You're a sick fuckin' bastard and you can pay extra for that"

He just shrugged as he got off the bed and tucked himself back into his breeches, a smile on his face "You didn't say no and it sounded like you were enjoying yourself" Before she could say anything further though he did reach into his coin purse and tossed two crowns at her "That's for the baby"

It was almost comical the way her face paled and the sneer slid off her face "What baby"

He just scoffed at her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world "I'm sure you know how sex works"

"But you're a bleedin' witcher-"

"Sterile I know, but ask them down at the Passiflora and see if they agree" He can only chuckle as he watched her eyes widen and her face grow even paler, she must have heard the rumors and paid them no mind then, good, it meant others wouldn't listen either, and so he left her still leaking his come and tried to temper his thoughts as he walked back to his room for the night.

~~~

He doesn't have to wait long for the next girl to fuck, later that night in fact, nursing an ale in the Chameleon he's already half hard thinking back on his time in the brothel and debating on who in the inn might be willing to go to bed with him.

The answer comes in the form of Dandelion, who approaches him with a woman on each arm, one of which, with dark hair and tan skin immediately plants herself on his lap, surprise flitting across her face when she can evidently feel his now rapidly hardening cock press against her ass before she seems to compose herself, a salacious grin on her face as she presses closer to him and twirls a finger through his hair.

It's all too easy to lead her up to his room, and as soon as the door locks behind him he's ferrying her towards the bed, ignoring the way she tries to kiss along his jaw and paw at his clothes as he lifts her by the waist and throws her on the bed, following close behind and smothering her protest with a kiss.

He had planned to treat this time as an experiment. Back in the brothel, he had quickly succumbed to some sort of animalistic urge and he wanted to see if he could tame it somewhat. He still planned on breeding her, just getting kicked out of every establishment he entered for abusing the woman wasn't on his to do list.

Easier said than done because as soon as he was leaning over the woman that same need to just fuck and come and fuck again came over him.

This time he pulled back, ignoring the look of confusion on the woman's face before flipping her over and shoving her head into the pillows to muffle her cries. In the next moment, he had hitched her skirts up above her waist and pulled his aching cock out of its confines and simply pulled the woman's underwear to the side before he pushed in with a low groan, made even better as the woman clenched tight around him, clearly not prepped for the sheer size of him.

This time he does have the mind to gently roll his hips into her at first, pushing her harder into the bed when he feels her first start to struggle before he rapidly picks up his pace, head thrown back as he feels the girl squirm and clench under him, letting out a groan at the almost vice like grip she had on him as he heard her cry into the pillows.

"Fuck, you're so tight, a nice little hole for me to breed" The woman renews her struggling then, one of her hands trying to reach back to hit him, push him, it didn't matter because it didn't stop him from leaning over her, the angle meaning he could reach even deeper into her cunt, earning a low growl as he thought it would be even easier for her to catch "So eager aren't you, milking my cock like you want to be bred with my pup"

It easy to keep the woman caged when he's pressed this close but it still doesn't stop her from trying to get away, her movements more often then not meeting his thrusts to push impossibly deeper as she clenches oh so tight around him, as if to stop him from fucking into her again, but only pushing him closer to the edge instead.

"If I'd known you were this desperate I would've bent you over the table and fucked you downstairs" He's so close now, panting and growling above her as he drives his cock into her, desperate to come inside her now as she lets out little pained grunts where her face is still shoved against the bed "Would've shown the whole town what a desperate slut you are for a witcher's cock to stuff you full of come, course they'll know when you grow with my child, know how you begged me to breed your cunt"

The girl goes frantic below him in her effort to get out from under him, but instead, she just gets impossibly tighter around him so that he's helpless but to come with a snarl, fucking into her a few more time before he still and lets the woman's movements and tight cunt milk his cock dry for the third time that day.

When he's finished he lets her push him away and watches as she all but runs out of the room, tears mottling her face as she tries to rub them away. Almost casually he gets up from the bed to tuck himself back in and amble back downstairs to finish his drink, only to be approached by Dandelion who looks nothing but concerned.

"I just saw Maya run off as if the Wild Hunt were chasing her, what the fuck happened up there"

"Another girl just looking for the thrill of sleeping with a witcher, took one look at my dick and panicked, tried to calm her but she bolted" He watched Dandelion examine him for a movement, a hand on his chin as he thought before a smile came over his face.

"If I were you I wouldn't go around telling people that girls have literally run from your dick"

"Fuck off"

"Now now none of that, let me make it up to you- if you're still in the mood that is" He'd just gotten off, for the third time that day, but the thought of someone else eager to get into his bed so soon has his dick start to harden as he nods at Dandelion. It's then the bard grips his shoulder and turns him to face a woman stood by the bar, a small smile on her face and a glint in her eye as she looks at them "Miriam has been asking after you all night and I am assured that she will not disappoint"

As he's leading a girl up to his room for the second time that night he can't deny that being friends with Dandelion certainly has its advantages.

~~~

Two days later he's leaving Novigrad, a mixture of no contracts and the rumor being spread of how he was more monster than man in bed had women more than hesitant to approach him, and so he said farewell to his friends before moving on to more fertile pastures, no pun intended.

His next opportunity comes a few days later in some village he didn't care enough to learn the name for. He's just come back from fighting a nightwraith and feels exhausted as he makes his way back to his room at the inn. At least that was his plan until he passes the corner of one building and a woman spits at him before calling him a freak.

He was used to the insults at this point, one of the few constants in his long life, and before hadn't let himself be bothered by them, but there's an itch at the back of his mind that's begging to be scratched and so doesn't even think twice when he moves off the road to instead pull the woman deeper into the alley between the two houses and shove her face against the wall of the hut.

"What the fuck are you doing mutant scum, my boyf-"

"Careful, as my good friend Dandelion says, all are equal in the alcove" He can hear her asking just what he meant by that but after he'd pushed her skirts up and her underwear down it was pretty self-explanatory and quickly shoved a random bit of cloth into her mouth to stop her shouts from alerting passersby.

He can't help but shudder and let out a loud groan as he sinks into her, not even giving her the courtesy of waiting a moment before he's soon pounding into her, his hips snapping up to enjoy the warm, wet, tight heat of her cunt even as she struggles and tries to get a leg back to kick at him.

Granted he's only done this a few times, but he's started to relish the way the women struggle and beg to get out of his hold, to feel them inadvertently tighten around him or push back as they move so that his dick reaches even deeper into them. It would be far too easy to just use axii on them, the women limp under him and their hole loose and warm around him, but he wants them to feel it, wants them to feel how easy it is to just push them down and take what he wants, to fuck them open on his cock before breeding them.

"Wonder what your neighbors will think when they see no ring on your finger but your belly swell with my child" He chuckled as he felt her writhe under him, one hand now pulling harshly at his hair which only served to turn him on even further, spur him to fuck her even harder as he put a hand on her waist to pull her back on his cock with every thrust "They'll think you're a whore who'll open their legs for anything that moves, even a witcher, and how you begged me to breed you with my child"

It's over far too quickly but he makes sure to milk his cock dry inside of her before he pulls out and heads back towards the tavern for a well deserved drink.

He thinks that’s it for the night until he's met with some skinny farmhand pointing a finger at his face about how he raped and abused his girlfriend. What the man expected out of the situation was beyond him, but it probably wasn't to be thrown over his shoulder, easily following the man's scent back to his house before kicking down the door.

The girl he fucked in the alley is there with red eyes and starts hitting and pulling at his arm in an effort to free her boyfriend, but it doesn't move him. Instead, he ties the man to a chair and faces it towards the bed before he drags the woman over the covers to fuck her again and again, letting her writhe and squirm on his cock as he tells her what a good bitch she is letting him have her again, letting him fuck her over and over and over to make sure she catches with his seed.

He pulls her up so she's sat in his lap, both of them facing the boyfriend that's still tied to the chair, a mix of pale-faced horror and red with fury as he rests a hand on the girl's stomach and whispers that her boyfriend will make such a good daddy for his child, how he'll take good care of them and keep food on the table whilst silent sobs wrack her body.

It's only when he's finally spent, his orgasms nothing more than a couple of dribbles of come, that he finally leaves the pair for the night, a part of him almost welcoming the insults towards him now if that's how it ended.

~~~~

It’s almost a week later when he’s in some town outside Oxenfurt and his urges have only gotten worse and will very likely be the death of him.

It’s not so much the angered spouses or brothers that worry him, he got used to that long ago when Dandelion used to travel with him, instead, it’s the fact that he’s taken to accepting sex from the women in the village instead of coin.

In the smaller towns, where parents had far too many mouths to feed, it was all too easy for them to accept his offer, and they gladly threw him the first girl he looked at, sometimes that was girls fresh into their maidenhood and other times spouses or betrothed who smelled so sweet that he just had to taste, and often remarked on what a nice little family he was helping to create as he pounded into them.

In this town, however, they had heard of the witcher accepting sex instead of coin but when they’d seen his gaze fix on the Aldermans daughter as they discussed a contract, they were quick to offer him coin and only coin, luckily for them, he was running low and needed a list of things he’d put off as he had instead taken his pay between a woman’s thighs.

He would have accepted the measly coin and been done with it provided the drowners he had been hired to deal with hadn’t turned into a whole host of necrophages, from water hags to rotfiends and even ghouls.

When he demanded compensation for the trouble, he had just cleaned out the entire coastline for them so that they could fish again, the Alderman was quick to brush him off and cast him out of the town, knowing that his price would be his daughter.

It wasn’t until he threatened to tell other witchers of this town, of how they refused to pay him for services rendered so that when the next monster came, as it inevitably would, no witcher would help.

He had to bite back his smirk when the man finally agreed to pay, on the condition that he pick the girl. It wasn’t ideal and not what he really wanted, but if he at least got to breed one girl in this town then it didn’t matter to him who it was, and so it was agreed, he would be put up in a room at the inn, food and drink supplied where the chosen girl would later meet him.

That was all well and good and he gladly ate his fill under the mistrustful eyes of the barmaid, but for the first time in a long time, he would be ending the night with a full stomach. He really should accept more coin on contracts.

An hour or so later having retired to his room, he opens the door to find a woman, not old per se, but definitely past her prime, and would not be able to rear his or anyone else’s child.

At first, there’s just anger at the Alderman for cheating his part of the deal, and he almost scares off the poor woman still stood frozen at his door before pulling her in. He would get back at the man for sure, but for now, he just needed something to temper his rage and fucking a hole, no matter how useless to him, would help.

Only, when it came down to it there was no anger or fury filled lust, he’d been ruined by unspoiled maidens and sullying those promised to others, so now when faced with neither of those he finds himself disinterested and barely able to fuck the woman into her own orgasm before kicking her out, leaving him unsatisfied and even worse than before.

Later that evening, when most of the town has gone to bed, he leaves the inn, not to go to Roach, but the Alderman’s house at the end of the street, far grander than any of the man’s people could afford and it’s almost too easy to slip through a window and pass through wide corridors without a sound.

It’s even easier to get into the girl's room, smelling of cotton sheets and honeysuckle as he shoves a cloth into the girl's mouth and pins her to the bed, the girl still too tired to put up much of a fight before he’s lifting her nightdress to expose pale, creamy skin that he craves to mark with his teeth.

Eventually, the girl realizes something isn’t right and tries to pull away, but the attempt is almost laughable as he presses first one and then two fingers into her, pumping them a few times before he’s lining up his cock and sinking in with a moan as the girl screams behind her gag.

He should really go easy on the girl, but he can’t help the way his hips pull back before fucking back into the tight grip of her cunt. It’s not long before she’s crying, her muffled sobs filling the room alongside his moans and the sound of skin slapping as he fucks into that tight heat even harder.

The girl has only recently come into womanhood, he can smell it on her and a fucker like her father is probably already looking at who the girl might marry in the coming months. He has to stop moving for a moment before he comes too soon at the thought of by then the girl's stomach would start to show, how the family’s name would be cursed out by those higher than them for letting the girl be spoiled, and by a witcher especially.

“You’re going to look so pretty full with my come, but you’ll look even prettier full with my child” The girl below him doesn’t react, not that he expected her to at this point, she just kept crying until her gag was soaked through with spit and tears “Tell your father it was me, that it was a witcher’s cock that fucked you so well, so full of come, that you had to carry his pup”

Spurred on by his own words he can’t help the way his hips stutter as he finally comes into the girl under him, breathless for a moment but eager still, there were a lot of rotfiends after all so why not take what he was owed.

His second orgasm washed over him quickly as he told her what a nice little breeding bitch she made, how well she fit his cock and milked him dry like she wanted to carry his pup. The third orgasm comes even faster when he threatened to fuck her in front of her father so he could see what a needy little slut she was, how well she needed to be bred, and with a finger on the girl’s clit she coming around him that quickly sends him hurtling over the edge as well.

He tucks her back into the covers, cleaning her face a little before leaving her to sob into her pillow with his come staining her thighs. He’s not inclined to stay in the town for much longer, so returns to the inn to grab his meager things, and after saddling Roach, makes for the next town and hole he’d get to fuck.

[bytheangell]

If Yesterday’s Too Heavy, Put It Down (1/5)

(Read on AO3)  ------------- It isn’t strange for Alec to call Andrew up to his office to go over some of his security reports, but it is strange for Alec to be pacing by the window when he shows up, and it’s definitely strange for Alec to immediately tell him to come in and close the door behind him.

“Is everything alright, Sir?”

“Yes,” Alec says, though there’s an edge to his voice that implies otherwise. “I just have a request that’s… not strictly off the books, per se, but-”

“Understood,” Andrew says, not needing Alec to explain himself. This isn’t the first time Alec did something that wasn’t sanctioned, and Andrew doubted it’d be the last. Andrew trusts his judgment, however, and is willing to give him the benefit of the doubt that whatever it is will be worth the risk.

“I’m not sure you do,” Alec says. “There’s a group of young warlocks causing trouble, selling services to mundanes who don’t know what they’re asking for. They’re summoning some rather powerful demons that need to be caught and returned, but… the High Warlock doesn’t want this on the books, because he doesn’t trust the Clave to be fair in their punishment of the children.”

Sometimes Andrew wonders if Alec knows how good he’s getting at wording what he says to hit all the right points to convince people to agree with him - it’s rather politician of him, and if the rumors of his bid for Inquisitor are true Andrew doesn’t doubt he’s going to do well there. Using the fact that they’re children as a reason for leniency, rather than the sympathies of the warlock who made the request, is clever.

But the mention of the High Warlock doesn’t escape Andrew, either. “Lorenzo requested this?”

Lorenzo hadn’t said anything to him about it. Andrew wondered how long this was going on, how long he’s kept it from him during their dates the past week or two. At least this answers why his boyfriend seemed more than a little distracted lately.

“He did,” Alec confirms. “In fact, the current plan is to keep this to himself and Magnus, and they believe that with a Shadowhunter to use the Alliance rune with, the combined strength of the four of us will be enough to carry this out without drawing unnecessary attention. That is, if you’re agreeable.”

So there it is. Alec isn’t looking for someone to cover for him, he wants Andrew to be the fourth person on this secret mission.

“I thought with your relationship with Lorenzo it might be easier with you than someone he doesn’t know as well, or trust as much. Don’t feel like you have to. I can always ask Jace or Izzy or someone else if you say no,” Alec adds quickly.

Andrew considers the offer. The idea of sharing powers with Lorenzo… his first reaction is to be excited by the idea of having magic at his fingertips, and then eagerness to be useful to Lorenzo in something he obviously feels strongly about. On the other hand, it sounds intimate, at a level that they might not be at quite yet. And what if he isn’t strong enough, or he messes it up? Andrew’s been on countless routine missions before but this one carries more weight than all of them combined no matter how ‘casual’ Alec tries to make it sound.

All it takes is one thought of how Lorenzo would react to having to work with Jace instead of himself for Andrew to decide he should at least try - if not to prove to himself that he can, then for Lorenzo’s sake. If it’s that important to Lorenzo, then it was important to Andrew.

“I’m in. What’s the plan?”

---

That’s how Andrew ends up in the middle of a ritual he would otherwise have no business being in. He can tell that up until now Magnus and Lorenzo were both doing their best to cover their increasing concern the longer the demon in front of them remains bound, but not sent back to the realm it came from. He knows Alec can feel it too - they aren’t strong enough and there’s no telling how much longer they can hold this before they’re properly overpowered.

“Bane…” Lorenzo grunts out, his tone cautious.

“We’re fine,” Magnus snaps before the question can even be raised.

“Magnus,” Alec tries. “We can all feel it.”

“I’m almost there,” Magnus insists, the words strained.

Andrew exchanges a concerned look with the others, one that Magnus doesn’t see with his eyes closed to better concentrate his energy, and reminds himself that Magnus would never put Alec in unnecessary danger. Either this is worth the risk, or he really does have it under control - either way it’s all Andrew can do to offer what little energy he has left to make that a reality.

The demon in the middle of their circle snarls.

“Perhaps if you hadn’t cut yourself off from your father and your birthright you’d be strong enough on your own,” the demon hisses directly at Magnus, trying to get under his skin. It doesn’t appear to work as Magnus remains focused, so the demon turns with a devious glint in its eyes to look between Alec and Andrew. “And you bring Nephilim, allowing them access to our powers? It’s unnatural. Abhorrent,” the demon spits out the last word before a slow smirk spreads across its mouth. “Perhaps if your Nephilim toys want to play Warlock so badly they should get the full experience...”

The demon lashes out at Andrew and Alec simultaneously with something that feels like a burst of energy. It breaks their grips on Magnus and Lorenzo’s hands and throws them back against the wall on either side of the room. Andrew hits the stone with a thud, his entire body tingling, before slumping down against the ground without the energy it’d take to even try and stand back up to rejoin Lorenzo and Magnus. He glances across the room to see Alec equally motionless.

Magnus instinctively takes the power they’d been using to keep the barrier going and channels it into an immediate shot of deep crimson magic that’s finally enough to banish the demon, and not a second too soon. The demon’s cry fades to silence as Magnus drops to his knees in exhaustion.

“Andrew-” Lorenzo starts, the single word strained and weak. Lorenzo manages to remain upright just long enough to make it over to him. “Are you hurt?”

Andrew isn’t sure how to answer that. His shoulder is bruising from where he hit the wall, he can feel that forming already, and he doesn’t remember being this exhausted in his entire life, but more than that something feels wrong. He isn’t in pain, but something he can’t place is just… off.

“I don’t… think so?” Andrew manages.

“What was that?” Alec asks, propping himself up into a sitting position across the room.

Neither Lorenzo nor Magnus have the magic left for a proper examination but satisfied that everyone is physically okay enough to travel each open a portal home, Magnus and Alec going back to the loft to recover and Lorenzo taking Andrew back to his house to rest.

---

It takes two full days of sleeping and eating and sleeping some more before Andrew feels well enough to return to the Institute. Okay, maybe there are a few extra activities in there that he and Lorenzo could’ve forgone to recover faster, but he’s certainly not complaining.

Something still feels off but he doesn’t mention it. With the warlocks who summoned the demon to deal with and backed up work at the Institute when he and Alec return, the last thing they need is a vague, probably just in his head worry to add to their list of problems to deal with. For the most part, Andrew manages to ignore it.

That is, until a few weeks later when Alec comes to him in the surveillance room, checking to make sure they were alone before speaking.

“Hey,” Alec starts slowly, in that way which implies he has something he’s still not sure how to say on his mind. “How have you felt since we banished that demon?”

“You mean since that demon hit us with whatever that magic was?” Andrew questions.

Alec nods. “So you definitely feel it, too?”

“It felt like my blood was tingling for days,” Andrew admits. “And something still feels off, but I can’t pinpoint what, so I haven’t brought it up.”

Alec is still nodding. “Same,” he agrees. “Magnus took longer than normal to recover, but when he did he gave me a quick once-over and didn’t find anything wrong.”

Still, if they both still felt the same strangeness this long after it was over, it had to be more than nothing didn’t it?

“Maybe Isabelle could run some tests, just to cover all our bases?” Andrew suggests.

“Sure,” Alec agrees easily. “I’ll have her set one up.”

---

It’s only a day after Isabelle took samples from each of them and said she’d let them know what she turned up before she’s already calling them back to her lab.

“I’m going to need a longer range of samples. You’ll both have to come back once a week for the next… let’s say three weeks, just to be sure,” she says as casually as possible.

“Sure of what?” Andrew asks immediately.

“I don’t know,” Izzy admits. “By all accounts, you’re physically fine, don’t worry,” she adds quickly.

“What aren’t you telling us?” Alec demands more directly.

“Nothing! There’s nothing to tell, not until I have more samples to compare,” she insists, but there’s an edge to her tone that neither of them like. As wary as they are of Isabelle’s obvious avoidance there isn’t much either of them can do about it.

So Andrew waits.

---

Three weeks later Andrew and Alec are both back in the lab, and Isabelle hasn’t stopped pacing since they arrived.

“Alright, I need you both to just… not freak out, okay?”

“That isn’t helping,” Alec says immediately on edge.

“What is it?” Andrew prompts.

“So, I ran the tests. I couldn’t be certain at first when the original samples came back matching particular elements of warlock and vampire DNA we have on file, but after comparing the ones from last month to the ones from yesterday…” Isabelle hesitates, hands wringing in front of her, biting a bit on the corner of her lower lip.

“Just spit it out, Iz,” Alec says, his anxious tone matching how Andrew feels though he’d never snap at Isabelle that way. One of the perks of being related.

“I think the two of you stopped aging,” she says.

“What?” Alec sputters, eyes wide.

“You think?” Andrew asks, wondering how much uncertainty there is here.

“Okay, I know, pretty much. The tests seem pretty conclusive but it isn’t like I have anything to base it off of. No one’s ever just… become immortal before. But there’s nothing else this can be.”

Immortal. Somehow it seemed less severe when she’d originally said ‘stopped aging’, though they mean the same thing. But to hear the word immortal, it held a certain weight to it, one that Andrew didn’t like one bit.

The room is silent for a long time after that, the significance of Isabelle’s findings settling over them. It’s suffocating.

“No,” Andrew says, shaking his head. “No, that has to be wrong. Do another test. Another dozen tests! It has to be something else.”

“Does it?” Alec speaks up suddenly. “Remember what that demon said before it lashed out at us?”

Andrew tries to think back. “It said sharing warlock magic was unnatural,” he remembers.

“It said something about giving us the ‘full experience’ of being a warlock,” Alec recalls. The moment he says the words Andrew remembers, though he hadn’t before. It just sounded like nonsense at the time, just gloating to distract them. “What if it cursed us?”

 Andrew pales at the thought. He grows still, trying to remind himself to breathe. “Then there has to be a counter, doesn’t there? Some spell that will undo it, or a potion, or--” the words tumble out of Andrew’s mouth in a panic. “--or something.” He looks over at Alec who fell into a strange calm, and looks almost guilty for a moment, though Andrew can’t imagine why. “Alec?”

“What if I don’t want to undo it?” Alec says quietly.

“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t you-” but his words fall away abruptly. “Oh.” Magnus. Of course Alec wouldn’t mind the idea of immortality if he gets to spend his eternity with the man he loves. But Andrew doesn’t have that.

Andrew has a new relationship with a Warlock he isn’t sure even loves him, let alone loves him enough to spend forever with him. That isn’t what Lorenzo signed up for. That isn’t what Andrew signed up for! And if they can’t find a way to reverse this Andrew knows he’s facing the reality of an eternity entirely alone and he isn’t sure he can handle that.

No, scratch that, he’s absolutely positive he can’t handle that.

“It’s fine. We’ll talk to Magnus and Lorenzo, and-”

“No.” Andrew says the word immediately, Lorenzo’s name snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. “No, you can’t tell Lorenzo.”

All he can imagine is the fact that the second Lorenzo finds out this is over - they’re over - and he doesn’t want that. Not yet. It’s still so new, Andrew doesn’t want to scare him away before he ever gets the chance to really know him. He deserves that much, he thinks selfishly.

“You have to tell him,” Alec says.

“Not yet. Please, Alec,” Andrew pleads. He doesn’t care how desperate it makes him look. He needs time to process this, to figure it out. “I’ll tell him, I swear I will, just… not yet.”

“I have to tell Magnus,” Alec points out, but his expression softens at the look on Andrew’s face. “But I’ll ask him to keep it between us. I can’t promise he will, I can’t make him, but I can ask.”

“Thank you,” Andrew sighs.

The number of thoughts that cross Andrew’s mind at that moment is staggering. He thinks of the number of people who would literally kill for a chance at immortality. He thinks of what he can accomplish with potentially limitless time to learn and improve, the skills he can develop, the people he can help.

He thinks that even considering the positives, if given a choice he wouldn’t choose it, and the guilt of something like this being wasted on him is overwhelming.

“I’d like to take the rest of the day off if that’s alright?” Andrew asks, and his own voice sounds weary in his ears.

“Of course, Andrew,” Alec agrees immediately. “Are you alright, though? You can stay here if you want, or come hang out and the Loft with me for a bit.”

Andrew knows that Alec wants to make sure he isn’t unstable or about to run off and do something stupid, a concern he’s grateful for even if it isn’t needed.

“I’m fine, really. I just need some time to process,” Andrew reassures him, giving what he hopes is a reassuring smile to both Alec and Isabelle before leaving the room and heading straight for the exit. He isn’t sure where he’s going, he just knows he needs to get out of there and clear his head.