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1920sladydectective · 7 months ago

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Best Friend's Mother Ch.3 6.8K

This is part three of the story inspired by @shinyshayminflower

It was gonna be the final part, but it's looking like there's at least another chapter or two to come

Angsty, Sad, just loads of stuff. Tiny bit of Smut MDNI 18+

Link to the whole fic on AO3 here lovelies, or you can scroll down my acc to find it here

Thank you @uselessbard1031 for being the best story sounding board

HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOO

The cold light of day revealed more than you could stomach.

You hated yourself, hated her, hated everything you had ever stood for and accepted and wanted in that stupid house.

Mel’s film came back a few days after you’d settled back into your flat, the Kodak Gold showing the pathetic rose tinted glasses that covered you for July and August. It was picturesque, toes in sand and melting Mr Whippys. Smooshed faces and a pissed off Mina. She showed them off, with a happy voice and gesticulating hands. It felt sort of like she was trying to cheer you up.

You’d been in a ‘funk’ since you got back and it was being chalked up to your immediately heavy workload.

That was it. Too much reading, four new essays and some new bullshit about work experience. Not the crushing void in your heart, not the breakup that was barely there, that existed for you and you alone.

Ambessa Medarda was a black hole, alluring in her violence, beautiful in her consumption and you were mere space dust. That she had made abundantly clear.

It kept you up at night, embarrassment curdled in you like milk. Body in tatters trying to keep your mind in check.

I’ll ring you when I’m back

Whyever would you need to do that

You fucking idiot.

Her stupid, soft pyjamas kept her grip on you, your phone’s fancy screen shining like her eyes. She was everywhere and you couldn’t tell anyone.

You were the living dead, cursed to be unloved and used forever. You never thought of yourself as dramatic before, preferring humour and dismissiveness, but the gaping wound in you cried for attention. Cried to be acknowledged and picked at, a scar in the making, as each little flicker of healing was ripped off again and again.

Six weeks later you still felt like a lovesick puppy. University and your job made time sparse and relaxation sparser still, but somehow the sadness lingered. You’d been grieving it for nearly as long as it had happened, some weird crossroads where it felt inappropriate to be sad. It was a summer fling, how many had existed since the dawn of time and yet it dug into you like an elusive splinter.

Mel was another issue entirely. Warm and tender, trying to prop you up when you stopped eating or didn’t keep up with the laundry. Part of you wanted to scream and cry. I’m not who you think I am, your mind shouted, I’m awful and you should hate me like I hate myself.

Then you’d eat a sausage roll, she’d send you a shitpost and you’d cry in the shower. Selfish as it was, you couldn’t lose both Medardas.

Sometimes you thought you saw her name pop up on your phone, you’d look each time like a baby falling for a game of peekaboo. Nothing. The last message made your lungs tense every single time.

Bacon Crunchy or No?

Crunchy, but still soft.

Demanding x

That breakfast in bed was the most revisited memory, probably spurred on by how many times you’d read those texts. You wouldn’t eat bacon anymore, flicked it out of your meal deal BLT before realising how counterproductive you’d made your sandwich. Wet mayonnaise and lettuce with half a tomato slice. What a sad life. Your cheeks were damp again and it was hard to breathe.

At some point enough was enough. You were a twenty three year old mooning over a woman over twenty five years your senior. You had a life, you had friends and a dad who called you sometimes. She was not the sun, you did not revolve around her.

That lasted for about a week, until Mel mentioned going back briefly for her Mum’s birthday. November 9th. You hadn’t known that, wished you still didn’t. Somehow you were in a shopping centre helping her search for a gift. Budget was extensive and so was Mel’s ability to shop.��

What would be a good gift for Ambessa? Rat poison perhaps?

You saw it or maybe it saw you. Gold, each chain link tiny, making it look almost like falling sunlight. One large crimson ruby hung at the end, metal criss crossing over it in a pretty setting. It would fit almost every outfit she wore. It matched her favourite earrings. It was unique, like her and she didn’t deserve it.

“That seems perfect,” Your voice croaked, pointing towards the glass cabinet.

Mel agreed because well, it just was. You lived, slowly and painfully, Rowan Atkinson’s scene from Love Actually. This was your punishment, your karma for your indecisiveness and deceit. Leaving Selfridges (dissociated and bankrupt from a bagel) you allowed yourself to be talked at. That seemed to be happening a lot these days, more sounding board and less person. That seemed to be what you’d lost, your personness, stuck in silk sheets in Surrey. There was no recon mission to be had either, the invitation for birthday celebrations blissfully, brutally not extended to you.

You heard all about it though, obviously. You weren’t that lucky. Mel and Kino had organised a party, she had pretended to be ever so surprised and you had received fourteen drunk videos at three am. The house was different to how you’d ever seen it, twinkling lights and darker furnishings to herald the stormy winter approaching. Kino was doing the CanCan, offscreen choked laughter making your heart hurt. Each video devolved to make less sense, snapshots of the living room, pretty decoration and discarded champagne. The last one made your world spin, bile eating your throat.

It was Ambessa, glassy eyed with shimmering makeup and bouncy curls, grinning at the camera with a cupcake in hand. Sitting pretty, as perfect as you’d imagined, was the necklace.

“How’s your party been, Mum?” Mel’s hiccupped voice.

“Perfect, Darling,” Ambessa muttered, an easy smile growing.

“And your gift?”

“Also perfect, Little wolf,” Her fingers stroked it instinctively, feeling along the ruby.

“Say thank you to the camera then,” Mel says, impatient and swaying slightly, “She’s the one who helped me find it,”

The shift was slight, you only noticed because you were looking, her face draining of some joy.

Tone coy and light she stared directly at the screen, “Ah I see, when you said one of your friends, I didn’t realise you meant her! Who knew she knew me so well?” a criminally long pause, “Thank you, Sweet Girl,”

The footage stopped, her smirk immortalised.

You hated her. Vile, vindictive little bitch. You burned all but one of your pyjamas sets in the garden, mesmerised by the flames as if their heat could cleanse you. Charred linen smelt like shit and you dumped it in the bin before it became a problem for the neighbours. Lip chewed raw, you curled onto the dining chair you had occupied half an hour ago, looking down at your traitorous phone

Your text response was calmer after that.

Nice, cute party! Drink some water babe xox

I kissed Jayce

Oh?

And Viktor

Can you call?

It’s 4am Mel.

Yes

The shrill thrum of Facetime rang throughout your kitchen, ear twitching slightly as you answered.

“Thank fuck,” Mel sounded both stressed and excited, “This party has been so weird I wish you were here,”

You didn’t. “Weird cause you tongued your two closest friends? Or weird some other way?”

“Don’t say tongued it’s vile,” She was clearly stumbling down the corridor to her bedroom, “And both, I guess? It’s a long story”

“Babble away then, babe,” You’d missed this, missed her.

It actually wasn’t that long at all, content wise, Mel was just so drunk she restarted five thousand times. Jayce and Viktor were together, this you knew. Mel would sometimes kiss them both, occasionally more, and she didn’t know what to feel; this was new. Having a conversation about emotional intimacy versus physical with her when she was drunk and your last fuck had been her mother was like a stupid game of Monoply. It took forever, not much was accomplished and she ended up falling asleep just as you were getting to the good bit.

“Mum’s also been weird,” It was slurred, hair spraying on the pillow, “Nostalgic or something,”

“Nostalgic?” You didn’t want to talk about her, you didn’t.

“I dunno, think she missed me and Kino,” She coughed, “She’s been more quiet,”

Quiet. Of course. She didn’t seem quiet when she threw your pet name in your face, but hey what did you know? Follow up questions were useless, Mel’s snores crackling through the phone.

“Are you sleeping, Little wolf?”

You were going to throw up, twitching hands launching your phone across the table. Mel’s phone echoed the crashing, drawing Ambessa’s attention. Picking the phone from her daughter’s fingers, she raised a quizzical and then uncertain brow.

“Night Mel,” You whispered, slamming the end call button. The last noise from her end was that voice calling out your name.

You didn’t sleep, your only remaining pair of pyjamas mocking you from the laundry basket.

It washed over you like the tides, again and again, each time inching closer to consuming you. So much energy had been expended to move past this, but you crumbled like a stale biscuit in the face of her teasing, of your name from her mouth. Even now your heart skipped, ached, sang. It wasn’t real, the adoration and attraction she had looked at you with. How could you grapple with that? Alone and surrounded by all the kindness she had gifted you. There was a doubt, tart and strong, in your mind that you would ever matter to anyone ever again. Your clanking alarm clock seemed to agree, burrowing into your fitful dreams and warping to the sound of her laugh.

Mel came back, hungover and a little emotionally unstable which seemed to happen every time she went home. You had tacos on the sofa, sharing a beer and having the same conversation as before, though sober this time. You steered clear of her, focusing on Mel with an intensity that made the girl snort.

“Back to planet earth then?”

“What?” Lettuce tumbled out, they’d given you a hard shell by accident.

“I mean this is probably the most you’ve spoken to me since the summer,”

A flinch, body rejecting the truth, as your lips turned down.

“I get it, work and stuff,” Mel quickly added, stroking your arm like she would Mina, “Just missed you,”

“Missed you too,” It choked out, despite your efforts to stay calm, flinging yourself against her and squeezing.

Fuck Ambessa. It settled in you, a certainty fuelled by the intense turmoil of the past twenty four hours. You loved Mel and you would not be a shit friend anymore.

Days were lighter after that, your acceptance shifting the colours of your world slightly. Your fancy laptop was a blessing, not a collar, helping you write your thesis without trouble. The coffee shop could have been worse, it was in a beautiful building with a rich history and it meant you could eat branded beans instead of 26p sludge. You’d even managed to save some money for Christmas. You were rising from the ashes of unrequited love, becoming a true optimist. Maybe you might start liking yourself soon.

Then your dad called.

“Hey, Peanut,” His gravelly tone was easily decipherable. He was about to disappoint you, again.

“Hi Dad,” You settled in the armchair, chest deflating, “Everything okay?”

“I’ve got some news,” a rattled sigh, “I’m gonna need to stay on till January,”

Rough hands ran over your face, “Of course,”

“I’m sorry kid but with the mortgage and-”

“I know, I understand,”

“Maybe you could go back to that friend’s house?” He said hopefully, “You had such a good time,”

Not fucking likely. If you told Mel that’s exactly what she’d suggest, so this one was staying quiet, you weren’t that healed. “It’s alright, I think I’d like to be at home, see some familiar faces, could always have dinner with the cousins,”

“Yeah,” He sniffed, “Yeah okay love,”

“I love you, I guess I’ll see you in the new year?”

“Of course, and I’ll ring you in the holidays,” He was firm in his intentions, even if it wouldn’t stick, “Love you,”

Christmas alone. Lucky you.

It took more effort than you’d anticipated to censor the news around Mel. Part of you, small and desperate, wanted to fall into her and cry about it but then you would end up sniffling, sitting in her car on the way to that damned house. The last few weeks of term flew by, deadlines and Christmas parties numbing you out, pushing you into a glitzy, overwhelmed state. Mel was in her element, glittering gold as she wrapped a mountain of gifts, covered all of your kitchen surfaces in icing sugar and screamed George Michael. She was supposed to leave before you, giving you three days of peace in the house before you ended up in rural Derbyshire with nobody but the deer to talk to.

About an hour before Mel was due to leave you received a phone call from your father and it affirmed for you that the universe, in all its cosmic wonders, had it out for you.

Your terraced house had a very complex and old heating system, which had apparently died a sudden and dramatic death. Sure, whatever, no problem. Except a new one was going to cost at least ten thousand pounds and couldn’t be installed until January anyway. The neighbours had told him about the sudden flooding, and he had tried to deal with it faster, but being so far away and with so little immediate funds.

“So it’s fucked,” You groan, “I guess I’ll have to stay here then,”

“I-” Your dad sounded shattered, “We might have to looking at selling, I haven’t got the cash to fix it,”

“I’ll figure that out Dad,” Tight throat, air raspy, “It’s okay, thanks for calling,”

“What’s fucked?” Mel said, appearing like a ghost, your shoulders jolting.

“Eavesdropper,” It was a grumble, “It’s nothing,”

“It’s clearly not if you’re looking at staying here,”

Your eyes rolled, frustration bubbling,“House’s heating broke, can’t be fixed till January so I’ll stay here,”

Mel looked crestfallen, “Oh no,” She embraced you, the hug more loving than you deserved, “What’s your dad going to do? Come up here? He can have my room obviously,”

“Why would he need that?” You snorted, “He’s staying on the rig for Christmas-” Uh. Oops.

Brown eyes flared with anger, “What? You didn’t tell me that!”

“I-I” You were at a loss, desperate to avoid what was obviously hurtling your way, “I didn’t wanna be a downer on all the cool plans, I was just gonna relax alone or whatever,” Lame excuse, loser.

“You’re coming to ours,” Mel said, decided, waving away all of your protests like one would swat a fly. Somehow she was already calling her mother, telling her to expect another guest for Christmas. The stress of heating was the final straw on a decrepit, twitching camel.

Had you died? Were you in Hell?

That’s what the Land Rover felt like, speeding through endless countryside as she sang Christmas Wrapping for the ninth time. You felt almost outside your body, about to reunite with a part of yourself you’d allowed to die. Mel had chewed you out for the first hour of the journey about being an idiot, about upsetting her by not just asking to stay. I know it was awesome in the summer, she had whined, you’re not like a burden or anything.

Rolling up the driveway felt like that moment on a rollercoaster just before the adrenaline floods you. Your stomach turns, you feel the wind and feel how high up you are, seeking an out you know isn’t there. Then the ride drops, hurtles down the track and you’re too overwhelmed to think much of anything at all. Ambessa standing, cashmere jumper and longer curls, against the door waiting to greet you both was your drop. Blank, hot nothingness.

“Darlings,” She cried, lips as crimson as ever.

She stepped forward, throwing her arms around both of you and you thought you might die. You hated her. Her smirk showed she could tell, though it wasn’t as firmly fixed as usual. Sunrays, squinting eyes and that smirk as she ate a slice of watermelon. Shut Up.

A small dinner was already ready, a weathered looking Kino dishing up portions. His greeting was warm but distracted.

“Mum’s had me hauling all the trees into place,” He grumbled, passing you a bowl of stew, “because of course it couldn’t wait until the precious princesses arrived to help,”

Gods you’d missed him. “You think I’m a princess Kino? I’m touched,”

Mel forced you into your chair, snorting at her brother, “Would you believe this idiot was going to stay at uni all by herself?”

You didn’t feel like an idiot, you felt like a prey animal fleeing one predator to sprint into the den of another.

Ambessa interjected then, “Yes, what’s this I hear about broken heating?”

It was an innocent and very valid question from the woman hosting you. She needed to shut the fuck up. “Uh, our terraced house was still using its system from the 60s and it finally died,” You said, instead of telling her the former, “Dad’s on the rig and can’t get anyone to fix it sooner than January,”

“We’ll have you for the whole festive period then,” Ambessa said, tone calm as she sent you a smile. It was indifferent and kind, in the same way she had been those first days of the summer. It rocked you, eating some of the adrenaline and replacing it with tears that glazed embarrassingly for a second. Long enough for her to see, but with enough control to spare you from Mel.

Five weeks of being in Medarda Central, playing happy families, “If that’s okay,”.

“We’re so happy to have you, Dear,”

Bitch. “Thank you, Ambessa,”

That evening was like a dream, stuck behind the screens of a nightmare. Three large christmas trees to decorate, a tradition apparently, with mulled wine and gingerbread. Everything was beautiful, and to your surprise each ‘child’ was given a tree. The larger one in the foyer was put up on November 21st every year by Ambessa, Mel told you, but the Medarda siblings and Mina each got their own tree to decorate once everyone was home.

You had been given Mina’s with a snort from Ambessa, who was supposedly happy to have someone else take on the ‘lazy demon’s workload’. It felt nice, for a moment, as you stared down at the fluff ball who seemed to have accepted you as a guest. This was a new thing and if you closed your eyes and breathed out of your armpit no memories appeared. You decorated methodically, using some of Mina’s and some spare that had been assembled for you. A perfect evening, with your best friend and her stupid big brother. And their sexy, evil, confusing mother.

Like you thought, a dream to nightmare pipeline. A trend you saw continuing for the rest of the holiday. It ended with watching The Grinch, something you had never seen. Jim Carrey was unusual and Martha May was disturbingly attractive, but that’s all you really gained, too busy ignoring Ambessa’s joking gaze. Did she think you were crazy? That you wanted to spend this holiday being fucked about by her too? Mel’s head on your shoulder grounded you, saved you from the turbulence of her.

It caught you once, entirely by accident, and your head began to swim. Golden swirls, tender and amused. She looked more beautiful somehow, finally victorious in getting your attention as she raised a brow. Your neck mottled red as anxious teeth crushed against one another. Rough hands stroking your cheek, kissing your sleepy eyelids as you ignored the film that followed Trading Places. This place was haunted and you realised that you were just another ghost. Kino went to bed first and unlike a few months ago, you were determined not to be a straggler. You got your water and tea whilst Mel spoke to her Mum about the upcoming Carol Concert you were supposed to be attending.

“Night,” You said, voice soft, as she nodded to them.

“Oh,” Mel said, “Bit early for you, isn’t it?”

“Long day,” A smile, “See you in the morning,”

“Nice to have you back, well done with the Tree today,” Ambessa’s silky tone drifted, “Sleep well Sweetheart,”

That was a new one and it caused no reaction at all. Your hand was trembling because the tea was hot, that was all. Your body shook from the exhaustion in the spare room, lip wet and trembling, because the journey was long and you missed your Dad. You could not feel her phantom touches brushing the tears away, it was simply the wind.

Ten days of Christmas festivities passed and it did not get any easier. No matter when you woke, she still somehow had your tea ready for you. You’d hoped initially that it was Rictus, the man you had come to know slightly better than in the warmer months, but alas he hadn’t a clue what you were on about. Those eyes, hypnotic and cruel, still attempted to lure you in each day. Hands lingered, bodies closer than needed as you passed in corridors or sat on the same sofa.

One day you boiled over, alone in the kitchen with her as she sorted through recipes.

“Will you knock it off?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t hum at me,” You snapped, hands clenching your mug, horror clenching your heart, “T-The touching and the looks, stop it,”

Ambessa laughed, pushing her glasses onto her head as she fixed you with a look, “Didn’t seem to mind it a couple of months ago, Sweet Girl,”

“A couple of months ago I was a fool,” A stuttered breath, half stuck and bubbling, “Mel’s my priority, I love her and this fucked up thing would hurt her, so stop it,”

Ambessa’s look changed into something you couldn’t understand, eyes pensive and face blank. She nodded once, head tilted to scan you. Was it respect? Surely not, she barely saw you as a full person.

“Okay,” Her tone was measured, “I can work with that,”

It relieved you, the thick, invisible smog circling overhead finally beginning to clear. You didn't trust her intentions towards you, but you could trust them towards Mel. The tremors and the cries slowed slightly, your sleep troubled but not totally absent.

Something new formed, something you could just about stomach. It was just as if she was your best friend’s mum, hosting you for the holidays, with jokes and motherly pats. She had never known the taste of your lips, you had never nestled your head between her thighs, never shared an overly fond look over her daughter’s head. It was easier this way, you promised yourself in the dead of night as you tossed from side to side. You’d spent so little time actually in this bed, that now it seemed as foreign to you as the woman who occupied the other. Her eyes still stayed on you from time to time, but it was insignificant now.

Did you prefer that? Was this better?

All Ambessa knew was that she did not like this change. Not one bit. She was unsure of how to process you coming back. You were a nice enough girl, an excellent fuck and actually funny to be around. You made Mel happy, which made her happy, but you had gotten a little too attached. She had avoided you since then for that reason, the thoughts of you that drifted through easy to push away. That being said, she missed you sprawled in her bed babbling nonsense as she ruined you. You were a pest, lingering around her thoughts and she was unsure of how to proceed. She seemed to regain one part of you, sarcastic and passionate, at the expense of any and all private access to you. It irked her, though she would not admit it, that you had called it before she had. Guilt sat heavy in her stomach, mixing with something else as she remembered your aggressive devotion to her daughter. Parts of you, buried, now resurfaced for her. How you took your tea, which hand would brush back hair behind your ear, in which order you would put your socks and shoes on. Tiny, minute details. She glanced at you, licking up cream on a hot chocolate and saw images of a similar kind, your pretty crinkled eyes eating an ice cream as you gazed at her across the sunlounger.

Ambessa Medarda could not wait for you to get the hell out of her house.

How ironic, considering you finally felt you were flowing into the new rhythm.

She wasn’t scary, she had no power. Other than the fact that this was, you know, her house. You shared tea, read together, joked and laughed. You only looked at her lips every now and again, a natural thing. You looked at Mel’s lips sometimes. Yeah. Her nicknames only caused nausea, not an actual gag to choke you. Plus you were distracted half the time by Kino and Mel. Frockiling about in London, seeing a show or wandering through museums, it was endless. Somehow you had done more in the first two weeks here than most of the summer, mind frazzled by Christmas joy. The best part was that on December 17th it started to snow and showed no signs of stopping. A true winter wonderland.

The only other distinct change from the summer was the shiny new vibrator in your bedside drawer. You still had needs, for god sake and the distraction should help. Nothing would satiate the burn like she did, but you tried not to think about that once you realised it was her you pictured to send yourself over the edge. Oops.

Ambessa, restless and frustrated, strolled down the corridor in the dead of night. Each door zipped past until a grunt startled her into stillness. It was from behind your door and a flare of worry resounded in her at the pained sound. Against her better judgement, her fist rose to knock on the wood when she heard it again. Clearer now, louder. Not pain, her mind roared, it was a cry of pleasure. Pleased little pants and gasps travelled to her ears, turning her thoughts to molten nothingness. She had uncharacteristically avoided sex for the past few weeks, and this was enough for her to tumble over the edge. Leaning against the wall, breath silent, she gulped. This was ridiculous, wrong and crazy and reckless. She was in the hallway for christ’s sake. Still, with chaotic urgency, her hand slipped beneath her trousers as she caressed her neglected clit.

You lay, legs wide and twitching, pleasuring yourself in bed totally unaware of your desperate audience. Tonight had been tougher on your resilience, her dress was so simple and yet it hugged her in a way that made you think of flowing water. Water led you to thinking of the pool and suddenly you were smacked with images of her naked swimming. It was too good to ignore, already halfway down the hot spiral your body craved, teeth bruising plump lips. Head thrown back, you began to keen and mewl, the toy pushing you into mindlessness, each gentle buzz pulling a whine.

Ambessa was almost nonsensical, unable to battle for her ironclad control as your noises had her frantically chasing release. You had haunted her for days, flushed cheeks and snide comments, as if nothing had ever happened. You essentially ignored any heat from her and it was maddening. She wanted to fuck you into the mattress you lay on now, the image making her eyes roll slightly. The final straw, shooting her into a shaking climax, was a sudden, bursting whimper of her name from your lips.

You hadn’t meant to, rocking yourself against this thick rabbit, but the image of her was so clear and you wanted it so bad, craved it. You cried out for her, as you had so many times before. Everything sang, bright and harsh, as you went limp.

She was much the same, choking her gasps back as her knees shook slightly. Finally some relief, her thoughts able to order themselves slightly. She did not, however, like the form they took. You, temptress and forbidden fruit, carved a home in her head she could not fill with anything else.

This was a mess. She was a mess. You were a problem.

Ambessa found herself bundling up, rambling at Rictus about almost everything as she prepared to check the lake, to see if it was ready for skating. He took it well, he was trusted for a reason. There was a merry glint in those eyes, a knowing of his Mistress. Something was wrong, was grating on her and he believed that something had a name and sparkly, open eyes.

“Need anything else?” Rictus asked, passing her the mug of coffee so she could finish it, “I’ll sort out whatever part of your wardrobe Mina has mutilated and then start wrapping the kids gifts,”

“Fantastic,” Distracted, dismissive, till her shoulders tensed, “Did you get anything for her?”

He remained neutral, “Did you want me to?”

A pregnant pause, stormy eyes, “I-Uh yes, I’ll send you a list,”

As if her house had become a prison, she smacked into you just as she wandered outside. You stood, fluffy coat and thick scarf, staring mystified at the white landscape.

“I’m sorry,” It was a squeak, mind haunted by your enjoyment last night.

“No, no,” She said, “That was my fault,”

“What,” A swallow, as you met her eyes with passiveness, “Where are you off to?”

“The lake,” She grunted, “See if it’s ready,”

“Ready?”

“For skating,”

Your mind exploded with excitement, never having even considered this as a possibility, lips betraying you, “Oh my god really, can I come?”

Your childlike wonder clawed at her lungs, posture softening, smile tugged forward unbidden, “If you’re careful, and do as I say,”

That was how you’d ended up watching Ambessa Medarda check this huge lake with military precision. You hadn’t visited it much in the summer, it was a fifteen minute walk through the woods so in the heat the pool was the obvious preference. Now though? It was a magical, entrancing grove that you giddy with joy. It was almost like it didn’t matter that it was her, that this was the longest you’d spent alone since August.

“Well,” Ambessa called, “Looks perfect to me,”

To your surprise, she removed two pairs of skates from her bag and chucked one at you, leaning against a large Yew tree to put her own on.

You didn’t know she knew to bring a second pair and it flared suspicion in you, “Why do you have these?”

“They’re Mel’s, Sweetheart,” She answered, amusement tickling her cheeks, “Didn’t realise they were still in there, you’re the same shoe size,”

Oh. Okay. That still didn’t solve the issue that you had no idea how to skate, and you said as much.

Ambessa could feel, as intimately as the danger of an oncoming bullet, that this would not end well. The offer left her lips all the same. She could teach you, it was Christmas tradition and Mel would end up dragging you here the second she found out it was ready.

She was a good teacher, patient and calm, with a habit of everexcessive praise and degradation intermingling. You were being a twat when gaining momentum, but did turning very well Darling. It felt unreal, distant from the dull ache she had placed in your heart, as acceptance slotted further into your bones.

Soaring like an injured bird, she watched you. Round and round you moved, grace slow to arrive but firm in staying, as her eyes stung. She couldn’t understand why, breath quick, as she coughed into gloved hands. The pressure built the more you moved and Ambessa nibbled her lip in contemplation.

“Oh my god, it’s ready,” Kino’s loud shriek saved his mother from further emotional introspection, “MEL. MEL. Come Skate,”

The Medarda siblings joined you, both skilled and dangerously competitive, forcing Ambessa to tug you left and right across the ice to avoid their thundering.

In short, it was the best day yet and that night you could sleep without a cry or an orgasm to force you. Christmas might actually be salvageable.

Another party. You’d joked to Mel that she really was the perfect upper class stereotype with a pool and horses you had avoided out of immense fear, with all her time spent getting drunk and talking about all the things she’d done. Mel was a bit offended, which made your assessment all the funnier, gold lips pouting. This one was very intimate, you’d know everyone there and it was more just a chance to see everyone before Christmas Day.It was just the Medardas and you on the big day, their first year having another person due to Ambessa’s usual strictness that it was only family. That was like a lobster slap to the face, making you feel special and like a burden all at once.

Somehow you were crucial in planning yet again, Mel too busy seeing old friends before they went away and Kino refusing to engage. He’d done his bit for the year with Ambessa’s birthday, he stubbornly replied, hiding himself away in the library with Mina.

That was how you found yourself in the kitchen, at the breakfast table expending half your energy to a Chess Game with Rictus and the other to being a food tester.

“Don’t like cranberry sauce,” You grimaced at her offering, Rook takes Knight “That one’s for him,”

“I don’t either,” Bishop takes Rook, his gruff smile making you laugh in kind.

“What’s the point of you then?” Ambessa snapped, eating the canape herself.

“Idle decoration?” “Part of the furniture?” You responded the same time as Rictus, giggles hidden by an insincere hand.

The three of you powered through the Everest of washing up she had created, humming to the radio and thinking up the worst Christmas cracker jokes we’d heard over the years. You were on drying duty initially, till it proved you hadn’t got a clue where anything lived.

“Didn’t you live here for three months?” He mocked, reordering the baking trays.

“She didn’t cook once in that time,” Ambessa sighed, “Some people just take and take and take,”

It was a joke, but it made you angry and the plate hit the water with more force than you could control. Soapy, lukewarm water crashed against both you and Ambessa, leaving you incredulous and her as still as a statue.

“Well,” Rictus said, warm presence cutting through the tension, “Off you both go to change, it’s enough for me to finish alone anyway,”

You both rushed down the corridor, and you felt yourself lurch as something reminiscent of the echo of an apology left her lips. You waved it away, eyes stinging as you slammed the door and curled under the duvet.

Everything was fine. Everything was good. You were friends now and you didn’t love her at all and you weren’t fuelled most by her laugh, her approval, her existence. You fell asleep with a wet stomach, melancholic music echoing in your head as you ended up back on that dreamlike lake.

The day arrived, December 22nd and you felt weird nauseous butterflies. Things had backtracked a bit since the washing up, but you were determined to drag yourself forward.

Everything shone, the powerhouse of a small country fuelling the lights and decorations as Mel sat crisscrossed on her bed, painting you like one of her canvases.

“This feels like a lot,” You said, yawning, “Everyone coming already knows what I look like,”

She smacked your arm lightly, “It’s Christmas, live a little,”

“I’m already living a lot thank you, you’ve got me in heels and spanx,” You flicked the snap to emphasise your point, moving your lips to hinder her lipstick application.

“Brat,” She gripped your chin, keeping you steady as her face lit up, “There you look like an angel now,”

You did, Your hair was shiny and curled, your face a painted marvel of Mel’s imagination and one of her white and gold dresses clung to you, highlighting everything you had ever been blessed with. Your eyes burned. A click smashed through your thoughts, the film camera flash capturing you forever, awestruck at yourself and grateful for your best friend.

Joy came easy here, her presence diluted by people you had come to love, as you slipped through the small crowd, challenging Viktor to a sober chess rematch. You didn’t win, but neither did he, and with a stalemate reached you gobbled up Ambessa’s admittedly perfect food parcels. Rictus seemed to circle back to you more often than anyone else, smirk on his face, a silent comradery.

The record player was soothing, champagne and eggnog mixing to make an odd sensation in your stomach as Kino twirled you around.

“I’m glad Mel has you,” He mutters against your ear, “She’s needed a friend to ground her,”

Everything spun weirdly, the compliment ironic as you nodded roughly, “I love her, she’s the best, and hey, you’re not too bad either,”

He laughed, twirling you a final time, “Always the charmer, Princess,”

Chaos devolved, as it always did with this group of friends, the snow too tempting a siren. You’d actually been having a coherent conversation with Ambessa and Cassandra Kiramman about your thesis progress, eyes only slightly hazy with booze, when you were hauled away by Jayce and VI. A snowball fight on the patio had erupted, bodies numb to the cold as their skin was heated by alcohol, violent throws and crashing dodges. No true adult participated, though some watched fondly, as Rictus recorded the whole thing on an old camcorder, another Medarda tradition apparently.

Ambessa trailed the scene, heart warm at the sight. She loved her children, loved the people they had become even if sometimes they seemed alien to her, more gentle and considerate than she considered possible. Their friends were a great reflection of them, loud and eclectic, with the loyalty of a wolf pack. You flitted about like a golden mote of light, drawing her eye more than she wished. That dress was sinful, you filled it in a way that made her ache, makeup turning your eyes into deep pools in wish she lost her senses. She knew nothing about your thesis, though Cassandra seemed to have continued that conversation with her as you were dragged away. This was becoming impractical, her body not her own. She retreated to the kitchen under the pretense of refills.

You bowed out early, freezing your tits off was fun until it wasn’t and you were less agile than the others. Beelinging for the kitchen, desperate for tea and to choke down more canapes, your cold skin smashed against a warm, firm wall.

She was beautiful tonight, as always. Resplendent and controlling, wielding her space perfectly. Braids and curls intermingled to frame her angular face, statement birthday necklace in place with matching earrings, as long lashes fluttered. It was the most stuck you’d felt since coming back to the house, an aura so similar to that first barbeque, that you’d almost slipped and made an inappropriate joke.

Your damp, snow soaked curls stuck your face as you stood inches from her, the kitchen silent save for your mingled breath.

“Good party,” You crooked, frozen in face.

“Yes,” She responded in kind, “A success I think,”

“I-I just wanted another salmon tart thing,”

She placed one in your hand, eyes widening, as she gripped your bare shoulder “You’re freezing, Sweet girl,”

Sweet Girl the tipsy, happy haze called. You nodded, “Was in the snow,”

She could warm you up, her sly and corrupted mind cried, thoughts blank as your innocent, devil eyes captured her body and perhaps even soul. She moved thoughtlessly, a gentle ringed hand tilting your chin as her dark lips crushed against yours.

Euphoria. You were in heaven, succumbing hungrily to the kiss, lungs starved of oxygen for four months. No logic here, no reason or doubt. Only her firm guiding embrace, and warm tongue. Ambessa Medarda was an evil, perfect woman and you could not escape her.

Dizzy, drunk in more ways than one, you pushed her off gently. It took everything in you, salmon tart crushed to nothing on the ground as you gulped.

Her inability to treat you a person was not why you’d stopped this, though if you respected yourself it should have been, it was because of Mel.

“This isnt-”

“Oh my fucking god,” It was shrill, whispered and bitter, your heart dropping out of your ass, ”No, you haven’t done this to me Mum, not again,”

Speak of the devil.

#ambessa x reader #ambessa medarda #arcane #ambessa smut #arcane ambessa #reader insert

136 notes · View notes

asaarii · 2 months ago

Text

just some various works that will prob never get finished chars included (in order) aka you can see all of my phases

mark grayson (invincible) [1.3k]

heartseel kayn and phel w streamer (league) [1.8k]

sett (league) [1.7k]

zagreus (acc might finish lowk) (hades) [856]

genji shimada (overwatch) [1.5k]

iso (valorant) [1.1k]

yasuo (league) [1.5k]

Mark Grayson [1.3K]

If there was one benefit to the cowl, it would be being able to hide the look of confusion on your face when a familiar sonic boom thunders through the sky before crashing into buildings with little regard to the people within. The ground tremors from the sudden force, splintering at the apex of the collision into loose and jagged debris.

Your breath hitches when the first building falls, your legs moving faster than your mind as you leap from your post atop a building. Just barely, you manage to save a family from death’s waiting maw, screaming at the top of your lungs for everyone in the area to keep moving. Though your voice is altered significantly by the modulator, the evident urgency in your tone sends many running; clawing and crying for a chance at survival—one you’re not sure many will have.

You do your best to help, grappling between buildings to save who you could, and pushing down waves of regret whenever you were a few seconds too late.

It had been a normal patrol at the start, and you’d even considered turning in early due to the lack of activity. You rarely took patrols during the day as your powers were dampened significantly by the presence of the sun, but a few days ago Rex had requested you take his place while he helped Rae move into her new apartment.

(“Please,” he whines, gripping your shoulders, batting his lashes in a way that has you reeling back, shoving his face away with your hand. “I’ll get your favorite takeout whenever you want! Just do me this one solid, I swear.”

You turn to Mark, your boyfriend caught up in a conversation with Eve, unable to catch your pleading gaze. As if sensing your unease, he looks at you, eyes alight with curiosity as they flicker between you and Rex before he shrugs unhelpfully with a small smile.

Your eyes narrow as your tongue pushes against the inside of your cheek while you weigh your options. Against your better judgment, you spare one last glance to his pathetic, pleading face before ultimately giving in. “Fine,” you groan out reluctantly, pushing him fully off you only for him to crush you in a hug to which you return stiffly.

He deserved his moment of happiness, you suppose. You all do after everything that’s happened.

Rex pulls away from you, playfully slapping Mark on his shoulder before running off to tell Rae the good news. “Dude, you’re girlfriend is the best!”

“I know,” Mark says proudly as he comes up behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, his lips pressing a feather-light kiss on the crown of your head. “C’mon, mom made your favorite.”

“Mark…” Your quiet murmur is picked up easily by his enhanced senses, your voice tinged with the slightest hint of hesitation.

He raises a hand before you can protest, pinching your cheek lightly. “Surely the Moon Knight can take just one night off, right?”

You really could never say no to this man, could you?

You flick his nose playfully, your scowl bearing no real heat as Khonshu’s voice echoes in your brain, likely arguing against going with Mark. But, for the first time in a while, you ignore the god, opting instead for a rare occasion of putting yourself first.

That was the first time in weeks you’d spent the night together, sharing your feelings and fears beneath his protective comforter while your insomnia took its hold, keeping your mind awake late into the hours of the night.

Luckily Mark had a few other ways to tire you out.)

Your muscles throb dully beneath your plated super suit in exertion, the white plates now stained a deep scarlet hue. You push forward, hands catching onto a flying car before it can crash into yet another building. The force drags you forward, but you manage to plant your feet and stop it just before it collides into the building which you now recognize as your favorite café.

A win amidst a sea of losses.

At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself, eyes flickering between the dilapidated buildings and the multitude of corpses left behind by the unknown threat. That’s when you see it. The figure that floats above it all, his familiar red cape flowing with ominous grandeur.

You know that suit.

But his face isn’t the same as you remember.

“Mark…?” His name leaves your lips a breathless question, confusion and doubt growing in the pit of your stomach with each cautious step you take toward your boyfriend.

Something’s wrong.

You feel it in the way his eyes snap to you without an ounce of recognition, cold behind his trademark goggles. And you most certainly feel it when his hand tightens around your throat before throwing you face-first into the asphalt. You make a choked noise at the feeling of your shoulder dislocating, the ground fracturing beneath you as a result of his strength.

It’s only then that you realize that the man above you isn’t your Mark, but an echo of what could’ve been. His hold on you is tight as he holds you up by the cape, scrutinizing every concerningly steady beat of your heart.

He leans closer, taking in the small details of your mask and suit, confusion settling on his face for the briefest of seconds before it returns to clinical stoicism, and he drops you unceremoniously onto the jagged ground. He clicks his tongue as you gasp for breath, glaring down at you with his lips pressed into a tight line.

You take the opportunity to muster the ability to kick him away from you, momentarily stunning him with your strength as he crashes into the café you’d just saved. The strangely dressed Mark reappears from the rubble with furrowed brows, brushing off stray dust from his suit.

You don’t give him a chance to recover, pinning him to a wall by the cape with an ahnk before popping your shoulder into place. You stalk closer, truncheons in hand as the sun disappears behind the horizon line. The Mark before you follows your movements closely like a predator waiting to pounce.

His jaw ticks as his hand closes around the ahnk, no doubt feeling the sting of Khonshu’s wrath as it burns through his glove and skin. Regardless, he pulls it free from the wall, throwing it at you with newly renewed conviction. “Who are you?” Though his tone is detached, you pick up on the smallest inklings of curiosity.

You hate the similarity he bears to your Invincible down to the very intonation of his question. But you can’t falter—you will not falter; not as a defender of Earth, nor as Khonshu’s sole avatar. Rubble crumbles above as the false Invincible before you holds your gaze both of you silent as a moment passes with rising tension.

He’s in front of you before you can blink, his fist pulled back before he punches you hard enough to level a whole city block.

You brace for impact, just barely finding time to raise your arms before you’re sent flying back. Had the sun still been up, you would’ve been nothing more than another stain on the concrete, even if only for a few moments, but all you feel is the blinding pain in your arms and back as you’re sent flying through a multitude of crumbled buildings.

It doesn’t take long for your bones to mend, but it takes even less time for the caped imposter to find you, appearing in a heartstopping gust of wind a few meters away from you.

“It’s rude to not answer when someone asks you something.” His arms remain crossed across his chest as he stares down at you from his place in the air. Next thing you know, glass shards dig into your back as he throws you by the ankle into another building.

So much for answering his question.

HEARTSTEEL with Streamer!Reader [1.8K]

kayn:

always comes in at the most random times. which can lead to a mixed bag or reactions ranging from a victory kiss to a scream of terror from the depths of your soul

most likely does it on purpose too because he’s a bitch like that.

could not give any less of a fuck if people knew you were together or not

sure pr is always on his ass but blah balah ablaha

you’re his partner and he’d be damned if he didn’t show you off to both your fans and his.

(he does reign himself in when yone steps in, though. holy shit that man is scary when he wants to be.)

Your headset sits heavy on your head, a sponsored brand you find yourself mentally critiquing as you focus on the game before you. A bead of sweat drips from your brow, a fruit of your concentration while your hands remain shaking and clammy on your controller.

The sound a heartbeat echoes distantly, though whether it’s your own or a game mechanic, you don’t quite know.You don’t notice a shadow shifting behind you or your chat trying to warn you, having muted it in order to focus solely on the game.

Arms curl around your chair as you turn down an infamous hallway, each creaking step of the rotting planks below your character sending a jolt of fear down your spine. Kayn watches behind your oblivious figure, trying to find the perfect moment to execute.

Unlike you, who wanted to go in completely blind, he’d watched numerous gameplays in order to pinpoint each jumpscare. Sure, he’d caught some flack from Yone during practices, but the thought of your reactions was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

It doesn’t take long for a familiar door to come into view, followed shortly by a series of quick-time events.

The ghost of his touch trails up your arm, yet you remain wholly unaware due to the stress of every new event. His hand removes one of your headphones, breath warming the cusp of your ear just as the final event appears on screen.

“Boo.”

Your sudden jolt causes you to hit the wrong button, successfully triggering a rather brutal jumpscare. As you jump back in pure fear, your controller flies from your hand, connecting squarely with your boyfriend’s nose.

The next few moments are pure chaos, with you screaming about an intruder in your house and Kayn keeled over in an attempt to stop the blood.

When you finally come to your senses, you’re shocked to find that your so-called intruder is actually your boyfriend, finally home from an extensive tour around Valoran following the success of Heartsteel’s latest album: STORMSURGE.

“Shieda?!” You’re quick to make your way to his side, panic rising in place of your previous fear. Blood pools in his cupped palms as he rushes out of the room with you trailing close behind whilst you apologize profusely.

Your poor, poor viewers are left with a view of an empty chair and an open door on your facecam while the death screen lingers on your monitor. Though muffled, they can hear snippets of the interaction transpiring between you and the rockstar from down the hall.

“Tip your head—forward not back, dumbass!”

“Fuck! Why’d you throw the controller so hard.”

“I was scared! And you weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow…”

“Was s’posed to be a surprise.” There’s clear fondness in his tone despite the nasally sound of him pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I didn’t even hear you open the door.” You’re rubbing his back in soothing, trying your best not to wince at the copious amount of blood staining your sink.

“Well you also didn’t hear me leaning on your chair.” There’s a pause as Kayn sighs before mumbling a low, “I shadow traveled anyway,” uncaught by your otherwise sensitive mic.

It gets really hard to stay annoyed by his little prank when he looks like a kicked puppy. Even from this angle, you can see the small jut in his lip as he pouts, scowling slightly from the pain of his injured nose.

“M’sorry,” he apologizes after you bandage his thankfully unbroken nose. You can only chuckle as you clean his face and hands free of any blood, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry too. I overreacted.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, leading the two of you back to your studio, “never apologize for feeling scared.”

Your chat rejoices at your return, half consoling Kayn and half making fun of him for being taken out in such a hilariously stupid way. He discreetly flips them a middle finger while you settle back in your seat, quickly closing the horror game in favor of a more lighthearted multiplayer. You miss the way he smiles when you respond to chat, though your perceptive viewers see the way his heterochromatic eyes shine in your dim lighting.

They see a downbad loverboy instead of the coldhearted rockstar face he offers the rest of the world.

yeah… sometimes he games with you, but he insisted to have his own controller and setup

if you look closely in the very right corner of your face cam, you can see the edge of his monitor peeking through; a candid shot of you the lockscreen

to tell the difference, he says

bullshit

sometimes he barges in without even knowing your streaming, already ranting about something that pissed him off

you always mute, ready to listen and offer advice on whatever he needs

he’s a mod when he’s not physically with you, banning any freaks who think they have a chance with you

he loves you and loves that you’re so confident in yourself, but your safety will always be your top priority

aphelios:

he’s with you every step of the way

he was your first supporter, after all

usually, he sits just out of frame and if you listen closely, you can hear a few of his mixes in the background when you speak

or he’s your camera man whenever you’re filming something outside the comfort of your home

there are also times he appears as a figure in your door—an ominous shadow, standing there menacingly for moments at a time before disappearing down the hall

this has led to a multitude of conspiracies about your apartment being haunted by a tall, lanky ghost

he finds it funny

you do not—okay it’s a little funny trying to suppress your smile as you dismiss your viewer’s concerns

your chat has grown a bit suspicious of your odd behavior, but you always brush it off as them being paranoid

you both finally decide to introduce him properly after you reached a particularly big follower goal

The camera blinks a bright red as your stream comes to life, a slew of comments come flooding in your chat, congratulating you for finally reaching the goal you’d been striving for for quite a while.

“Hey, guys! Welcome to my 500k follower special.” You wave at the camera, clapping your hands together while your eyes quickly scan the comments. “Thank you, ๑pinpinipi for the ten dollar dono! Yeah, as you guys can see, we’re gonna be baking today.”

๑getdiffed: we?? hmmmmm very very suspicious…

๑colon3: not rlly…but they’re doing the staring thing again

๑fardeded: IM SO EXCITED JBGJBONLNMK IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS STREABM FOREVERRRR

“Haha, I’m happy to see the enthusiasm, fard! Glad to know you’re still with us after all these years. Today, as many of you have guessed, I have a special little helper in the kitchen today—well, not exactly little, but you get the point.” You nod to the empty space beside you, encouraging the blue-haired male to join you in front of the camera.

He steps closer hesitantly, but stands tall with a soft nudge of your shoulder. Anything to see you smile.

๑willMYseed: NO FUCKING WAY IS THAT APHELIOS

๑colon3: WHAT THE HELLL

๑getdiffed: I KNEW THEY WERE SEEING SOMEONE BUT HOLY SHIT I DIDNT THINKNIT WAS HIM

๑fardeded: its all making sense now. i KNEW the music in the bg of someof their streams was familiar I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS THE COMPOSITION FOR STORMSURGE

๑averagegodling: who in the world is aphelios

๑averagegodling: WAIT HE’S THAT GUY FROM HEARTSTEEL???? :[user]_wtf:

๑ily[user]: gn. ive lost.

๑averagegodling: bros acting like they had a chance w [user] :skull:

You let out a boisterous laugh, leaning on your lover for support as your legs buckle beneath you. He holds you, smiling down at you gently as helps you back up.

“Sorry,” you wave a dismissive hand, “sorry, you guys are just too funny—fuck, what were we making again, Phel?”

He smirks as he whispers the dish in your ear, making sure to cover the mic clipped to your shirt to ensure that only you could hear his voice. His eyes stare dead into the camera, his hand lovingly stroking down your arm with the full intention to stake his claim.

“Right! Thanks, love,” you kiss his cheek absentmindedly before turning back to the camera, “we’re making yakgwa! It’s one of Phel’s favorites.”

๑willMYseed: WRITE THAT DOWN GUYS YAKGWA IS ONE OF APHELIOS’ FAVORITE FOODS

๑colon3: good googly moogly dID YOU SEE THAT SMIRK

๑fardeded: we get it king, they’re yours:[user]_sob]

Aphelios bends down, allowing you to pin his hair up with the gaudiest clip you could borrow from Alune without much protest, even allowing you to leave a lingering kiss on his freshly exposed forehead. With a roll of his eyes and a ruffle of your hair as payback, the two of you set to work in order to make the fried dessert.

It doesn’t take long to discern which of the two twins holds the culinary expertise.

(Hint, it isn’t Aphelios.)

He’s squinting at the iPad placed between the two of you. There’s a cute furrow in his brows you’ve only seen when he was making music. It’s rare to see him so concentrated on something other than his craft.

What you didn’t know is that he’s only like this because it was you who asked. Had it been Sett, Ezreal, or, god forbid, Kayn asking him to do this, he would’ve rolled his eyes and pushed Alune their way and called it a day. But it isn’t. It’s you; the person he’d tear down the moon itself for if it meant seeing you smile one last time.

“…Phel?”

He turns to you, slit brow raised in silent question.

“Does this flour look off to you?” You tilt the bowl toward him and he leans closer only to blanch at the odd concoction stirred within the bowl.

Oh. Haha. He was wondering where he misplaced K’sante’s protein powder. Silly him. Without much thought, he takes the bowl, chucking it in the sink with a quick text to Alune to pick up some wheat flour.

Oops?

๑PrideOfNazumah has donated $15: hey :)) could you check if aphelios has some birthday cake flavored protein powder left :)) both sett and i seem to have run out :)) no pressure :))

Sett [1.7K]

The world was cruel, often uncaring of those it brought punishment upon. Mothers, children, fathers, and lovers; nobody was safe from the ever-winding threads that wove history together, creating an ugly amalgamation of wars, famine, and ruination.

Regardless, you do your best to create a safe place in the world for your son, even if it’s difficult for the two of you to see eye to eye on most occasions. He has his father’s stubbornness, bearing the same crinkle in his nose whenever he bears the fangs he had inherited from you right back at you. Though, perhaps the worst thing he’d gotten from his father was his venom-laced tongue which spewed poison that hurt your heart more than any blade.

You never once blamed him, though.

You were the reason papa wasn’t around anymore. You were the reason he had to move to the outskirts of Navori away from everything he grew up with. You were the reason he had nothing. You reason your child—your own flesh and blood—despised your very existence.

Your fault.

Your fault!

It was all your fault!

Yet you took it all in stride. Still smiling and greeting him every morning with a gentle kiss to the forehead that he reels away from. Still tidying his uniform despite his protests, and still walking him to school even if he refuses to walk anywhere near you. It’s all worth seeing the smile that lights up his face when he catches sight of his friends in the schoolyard, completely disregarding the bidding of good luck you offer him.

Every day you smile to yourself as you turn your heel, breathing deeply in hopes of finding a job as funds are beginning to dwindle and the thought of selling your body sends a shiver down your spine.

You’d done it before, though, and ironically it was actually how you met your son’s father. The you of the past would have been quick to hop on the idea as it paid well and was relatively simple, but you could never make the mistake of falling in love with a client ever again.

Friends had warned you, truly they tried to help, but you didn’t heed their words. Their pleas for your well-being fell deaf in comparison to how your heart initially beat upon first forming a connection with the man. He was kind, gentle, and handsome to boot, but the flags—both green and red—were tinted by rose lenses as you found yourself falling a bit too hard too fast.

Maybe if you’d been a bit more preceptive you would have seen the glaring signs, like how his previously warm touches became cold, or how he smiled less when the two of you met up, or how his once soothing words began to make you doubt yourself and your worth little by little. Maybe then, you wouldn’t have been so shocked by his venomous words when you’d told him about the pregnancy.

You’ll never forget the look of raw anger and disgust that crossed his face as he clicked his tongue and stormed off with the excuse of cooling off. Your parents offered little support in the ordeal, ashamed of you for earning your keep in such an unkempt manner and getting pregnant so early on in life as a result of it. At least you had your friends to pour your burdens out to, or at least you used to, until you turned tail and fled the province, unable to look your parents in the eyes, or bear the scorn imposed upon you by your supposed lover.

Before you can delve too deep into the painful memories, you bring yourself back to reality, nodding kindly at your interviewer who gives you an unimpressed look in return.

She’s human, you note; her nails are trimmed short in comparison to your razor-sharp claws that fiddle restlessly in your lap, her ears are at the side of her head and bear skin unlike the fuzzy ones at the top of your head, and also unlike your own, hers don’t betray your emotions with a downward tilt. Her eyes travel between you and your resume, and you can’t help but feel scrutinized under her predatory stare.

Ironic, isn’t it?

Vastaya are typically known to be far stronger than the average human, bearing magic that most could only dream to hold that’s usually bolstered by their animal-like attributes. Yet here you were, cowering before a human who bears not a flicker of magic trickling through her veins. You do your best to shrink into yourself, eyes flickering anywhere but on her as a result.

The gaze of your interviewer softens a near-unnoticeable amount as she gnaws the inside of her cheek and once more, she glances at your resume. “Look,” she starts, quiet and slow as if to not startle an already frightened animal, “I don’t believe our business is the best place for you.” She can’t help but wince when you deflate, forcing yourself to pull through despite the harsh sting of being rejected by yet another job.

“It’s just…” She struggles to find the words, “Our business deals primarily with business transport, and it says here that you’re a single parent, right?” You can only muster a weak nod in response, desperately attempting to hear her out through the torrent of thoughts in your mind. She grabs your hand from across the table, rubbing soothing circles into your palm with her thumb.

It’s far beyond the boundaries of a normal interview, but she can’t help but empathize with you and your clear anguish. “You wouldn’t want to leave your son alone, would you? Most in our line of work don’t return from the first job, and I don’t think you want to imagine your son without you. So please, if not for you, then for your son, find another place of work.”

Her words do little to comfort you, but you nod along anyway, simply wanting to leave the vicinity as quickly as possible. However, just as you think she’s finally finished with her long-winded rejection, she fishes into her loose-fitting hanfu, pulling out a small slip of paper resembling a talisman.

“Here,” she states, pushing the paper into your hand. You come to realize that it’s a coupon for a free meal. As if feeling your confusion, your interviewer laughs lightly, a stark contrast to her cold persona mere moments prior. “For your troubles and a testament to your good luck in the future.”

You can’t help but stare at the coupon when you exit the building. It’s got a cute little design in the corner reminiscent of the badgers back in your home province and the black characters seemed to be hand-inked with love and care. You smile down at it, running your hand across the dried ink before pocketing the slip.

The sky is darkened slightly by the time you reach the entrance of the school. Towering whipwillow trees arch into a beautiful gate connected to an even larger tree that serves as the base of the school. It’s difficult not to admire such a work of art, cultivated through years of dedication to the act of magic.

However, every beauty comes with its own mars.

Holes and burn marks litter the tree from the Noxian invasion a few years back. Though most had been repurposed into open classrooms, they still serve as a reminder of the past and a sign to all that all that was once broken can be crafted into something beautiful.

In your moment of admiration towards the school, you nearly miss your son scurry past you, eager to go home and hole himself away in his room away from you. Luckily, you’re quick to catch him, much to his disdain. He shakes your hand off his arm, and you smile lovingly at him despite the added weight to your already heavy heart.

“I heard you were doing well in your classes. Why don’t we celebrate with a meal? I know a place you may like.” That was wrong, you didn’t even know if the teahouse was safe to bring a child. Regardless, your proposition was met with nothing but cold silence, causing your smile to falter slightly. Swallowing your pain, you guide your son through the active streets of Navori, sticking to well-lit streets and occasionally asking stall owners for directions while simultaneously purchasing ingredients for later with the little money you have on you.

Eventually, you and your son find yourself in front of a quaint teahouse, the same little badger etched into the sign above the entrance. When you push open the flaps, you’re immediately welcomed by a warm aura and the scent of fresh food.

A Vastayan woman is quick to greet you. Her ears seem naturally downcast, her lilac hair mostly held back by a band on her lower back, though a small portion is held together by twine next to her face.

“Welcome,” she greets, showing off her fanged smile that exudes the same homely aura as the rest of the establishment. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, are you new to Navori?” She guides both you and your son to the front, and it’s then you realize that the teahouse is practically empty. Guilt begins to seep in at the thought of catching this woman right before closing.

“Huh? Oh, yes, we just moved recently.” Your answer elicits a soft hum from the woman as she pours you and your son cups of tea.

“Allow me to formally introduce myself then.” After she places the cups down, she brings one of her clawed hands to her chest, “I am Ginora, owner of this little teahouse.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ginora. Ah, where are my manners? I’m [Name], and this is my son, Kuon.” You place your hand proudly on your son’s shoulder, only to have him shrug it off with a grumble. You’re quick to hide your wince with a strained smile as the two of you take the menus from the kind restaurant owner.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” she smiles before perking up when she sees you struggling to choose something. “Would you like some recommendations?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

Ginora is kind; the type of woman you wish was your mother as well as the type of mother you hope you are to your son. She’s patient in the way she guides your son through the menu, who’s reluctantly polite to seemingly everyone but you.

“This is my son’s favorite.” She points to steamed pork buns on your son’s menu. Something in your brain clicks; it make sense that she’s a mother with her infinite patience and calming presence

Zagreus [856]

“What was he like?” Melinoë’s soft voice draws your attention away from the cauldron. It simmers quietly as you turn to look at her, the light of the eternal flame illuminating her already ethereal face.

You blink dumbly for a moment, trying to process her question ever so slowly. Hecate’s laugh rumbles a few meters away, and you cast your questioning glance to the elder witch. She merely raises her hands in defense, returning to the new scroll she’d scouted out along her many travels. Right.

“My brother,” she finally clarifies after a beat of silence and one-sided communication between you and the headmistress. “What was Zagreus like?”

This wasn’t the first she’s asked about your husband, but it’s the first time you actually feel ready to share his memory.

“He’s…” you pause for a moment, “he’s exactly how the tales regale.” A fondness glitters in your eyes as you step away from the cauldron, beckoning the younger spawn of Hades towards a table at the lounge. The shades are happy to serve you, offering only the nicest nectar provided by none other than Charon himself.

You take a sip, savoring the soothing taste of the golden liquid. Melinoë does the same, her eyes never once straying from your content expression.

“Zagreus was—is the oddest man to ever grace the Underworld.” Your chuckle is melancholic as you meet your sister-in-law’s two-toned gaze. Her eyes are the same shade of forest green and vermillion, though switched on opposing eyes. Unlike her brother’s carefree ones, they’re heavy, weighed down by a burden that should never be held by one person alone. God or otherwise.

Yet, even then, she holds the same stubborn determination the rest of her family seems to have, and you’d be damned not to help her in her goal.

“Have I ever told you how we met?” A swig of nectar forces down the bitter loneliness built over the century without the presence of your husband.

The younger goddess shakes her head and you chuckle, downing the rest of your drink with a small smile.

“Well…”

—

Filling in for Hermes as a messenger was not often a responsibility placed on your shoulders, but when the speedy god pled to you to make this one, itty-bitty delivery, you couldn’t say no.

He leaves you in one of Elysium’s vast fields with a pouch of…something and instructions to do nothing but “wait until he appears”.

“Who?” You quirk a brow, unamused by your friend’s vagueness.

Hermes only grins with an equally ominous: “You’ll know when you see him.” He readies himself to part, only to turn back to you one final time. “Oh! And if he asks, tell ‘em I was busy running an errand for the big boss, he’ll understand. Now, I know this is sudden and I swear on my life I’ll pay you back later, but looks like I’ve got to run! Take care of him, yeah?” All you feel is a gust of wind and the grass billowing at your legs before no trace of the messenger god is left behind.

Blast these gods and their stupid mind games.

Would it have killed him to at least give you a name?

You grumble obscenities that would have the most profane god fainting, kicking at the soft grass as you continue to wait idly. A few spirits of notable figures cross your path. They bow respectfully as they pass by you, unable to withhold their awe at the sight of your ethereal form.

“Thank the gods. Finally, some peace! Now, where is it…” A sudden voice cuts through your conversation with one of the shades. The owner ambles closer, huffing out a breath of relief as he sheathes his sword. The scent of ash reaches you before he does, and your nose twitches. There was a reason why you rarely ever ventured to the lower depths.

The man—the godling—stares. And stares. And stares…His pretty, heterochromatic gaze blinking slowly in confusion while his hand finds its way back to the hilt of his sword once again.

“You’re not Hermes.”

That much is obvious.

Burning grass follows every step he takes, and it doesn’t take long for the blade to be pressed against the column of your neck. “You’re another blasted witch,” he seethes, contempt clear in the way the blade pierces through your skin, drawing only the smallest inkling of divine blood. Again, another obvious point. Where in Olympus was he going with this line of thought?

Suddenly, all the pieces come together and you want to smite Hermes all the more.

Before you was the Zagreus, the notorious spawn of Hades whose presence has rippled throughout Olympus’ upper echelon due to his persistent climb to the surface. You’d heard of him in passing, though never found much of an interest in Olympus’ latest gossip hub.

There’s an awkward beat of silence before you recall Hermes’ request. It’s difficult trying to locate the pouch in your bag with the prince’s sword still pressed into your neck, but you do eventually manage, holding out the brown pouch as a peace offering in place of your neck

Genji Shimada [1.5K]

One of the first things he felt when he opened his eyes was anger. A red-hot inferno that scorched his core from the inside out. Next came the numbness in his limbs that once seared with an incomprehensible pain as they were cut down by his brother’s blade.

His brother.

The thought alone was enough to send him into another fit of anger, though unable to move due to his current predicament. He settles for glaring at the blindingly stark white wall of the unfamiliar room. It hurts to breathe—hurts to think. He tries to close his eyes in an attempt to find a semblance of peace in the darkness behind his eyelids.

However, just as he does so, the door leading to the hallway slides open.

“I see that you’re awake, how are you feeling?”

He opens his eyes slowly, glare landing on a blonde woman who merely tilts her head questioningly. He can barely process her words, his mind slowly translating it to his mother tongue. He never was the best at English.

The slow blinks he sends her are enough to have the doctor clicking her tongue as she taps away at the holographic computer. A file pops up between the two. It’s his. It lists his name, age, birthplace, and even what schools he went to. Yet, what perturbed him was the picture associated with his file.

In essence, yes, it was him, there was no doubt.

But, something felt off. Like it wasn’t really him anymore.

As if feeling his stare, the blonde woman tears her gaze away from the screen. Pushing up her glasses, she minimizes the holographic screen before making her way over to his side, a bottle of water in hand.

“You seem thirsty, please, drink up.” She slowly tilts the water bottle past his parted lips. He accepts greedily, allowing the soothing liquid to quench his thirst.

“Angela Ziegler,” she starts, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips while she caps the water bottle. His look of confusion causes her to let out a small chuckle. “My name,” she clarifies.

The woman, Angela, returns to her swivel chair across the room, tapping through the seemingly unending files before landing on one in particular. “You’ve caused quite some trouble, Mr. Shimada.” Her hand cups her chin gently, glasses reflecting the bright blue light from the monitor.

“You’re quite fortunate that one of our agents found you when she did. Had she not…well you can guess what would have happened.”

Of course he does. He wasn’t exactly expecting to wake up.

The door slides open once again, revealing an injured soldier clutching at her arm with a grimace tugging harshly on her lips.

“Speak of the devil,” Angela murmurs with an amused huff. The soldier—you—raises a questioning brow at your trusted friend. She merely shrugs her shoulders, tilting her head slightly to the injured man on the hospital bed.

“Shit…I didn’t know you moved him in here.” You sound embarrassed, unwanting to meet the ninja’s harsh glare. Angela makes her way over to you with an odd-looking staff and a medkit, her lips are pulled into a smile, but you can see the concern swimming in her deep gaze. Genji watches from his place on the bed.

The blonde takes your arm, uncaring of the blood that cakes her hand after. She tells you to raise it and you wince.

“What happened,” her once veiled concern is now bleeding through her tone. Your expression pinches further at her prodding.

“Operation went south and Reyes sent me to you.”

She hums in understanding, already inspecting the wound, “But you have Dr. O'Deorain on standby, no?”

You click your tongue, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head whilst she tightens the bandage. You hiss harshly, glare boring holes into Angela’s head, yet she remains unaffected. “I don’t trust her,” you snip curtly as if any mention of the redhead burns your tongue.

In a way, it did, that much Angela knew, which is why she never sends you away when you came to her.

“Oh, I have another reason for stopping by, too.”

This gets the doctor’s attention, causing her to look up from your arm with a raised brow.

“It’s a deal from Morrison and Reyes themselves regarding our little friend over there,” your chin jerks over to the bed-ridden Shimada. Your gaze is pitying as it drifts between his missing calves and arm. He does not take kindly to your blatant patronization, instead, his glare increases tenfold.

“Well, out with it.” Angela snaps your focus back onto her. Her foot taps rhythmically whilst she scrubs her hands clean at a nearby sink.

“They want him in Blackwatch. Says he’d be a good help for taking down the Shimada clan—”

“Have they seen him? Do they know he’s missing limbs? That he’s barely alive?” Her sudden outburst was to be expected, yet you remain unflinching under the scrutiny of her narrowed eyes. Her jaw is clenched, seemingly out of character in comparison to her usual persona.

With a clenched jaw, you attempt to move your arm, leaving her questions to hang tensely in the air. It hurts a lot, but you still continue to move it nonetheless. Angela grips your forearm harshly, stilling it, “Stop that, you’ll only hurt it more.”

The warning has you sighing, finally relieving your arm of its strain by allowing it to fall limply at your side.

“Cybernization.” Your voice was quiet and would have most likely been drowned out had the heart monitor been any louder. You knew Angela would disagree with this. Turning a man into a weapon wasn’t exactly humane, after all.

“What?”

“They want to turn him into a cyborg. Uh, with his consent, of course.” Your reassurance does little to placate her.

As you await her response, she lets out a defeated sigh, her shoulders slumping. “Don’t look at me. I’m not the one you need permission from.” Both of your gazes fall onto the silent man, who had yet to say a word since his awakening. Even while weakened and bed-bound, he still retains the ferocity and rage of a scorned man.

A stark contrast to the bleeding man you had found during the raid on the Shimada estate. You recall how his one remaining hand gripped tightly onto your uniform, his delirious gaze swirled with betrayal and rage as he faded in and out of consciousness.

Slowly, you shuffle over to him under Angela’s scrutiny. His eyes—the only part of his body he seems to be able to move freely—remain trained on you, judging each movement you make, from your careful steps to the nearly unnoticeable twitch of your fingers.

“Hello.” It felt like it had been years since you had last spoken Japanese when in reality it had only been a week.

He seems shocked to have his mother tongue fall from your lips, but that fleeting look leaves as quickly as it arrived. While he doesn’t ward you away, he isn’t accepting of your presence beside him.

You smile slightly as you introduce yourself, unbothered by his intense stare. “Do you know where you are, Mr. Shimada?”

He remains silent.

At this rate, your break would end before you’d be able to get any sort of reaction other than a glare. With thinning patience, you huff. First, the successful escape of Hanzo Shimada, and now the lack of response from his brother.

This entire family truly was troublesome.

Always keep a calm head, your mentor’s words echo within your mind.

Breathe in.

“Mr. Shimada,” you start, the previous politeness you once held now replaced by the stern tone you used on duty. Angela clicks her tongue, rubbing her temple as she places her glasses on the desk.

“We,” you motion to yourself and the room around you, “are Overwatch. We want to help you, alright?”

With his anticipated lack of a response, you continue.

Breathe out.

“I’m sure you know of a man by the name of Shimada Hanzo, yes? The assumed head of the Shimada clan?”

This gets a rouse out of him. The withheld rage surfaces. Though unable to move much, his nostrils flare, his lips pulling into an animalistic snarl and nearly tears the delicate stitching done to his face.

“Where is he?” His voice is low, hoarse from lack of use and damaged vocal cords. Your hand clenches at your side under the heat of his feral glare. He sits impatiently, awaiting your response, akin to that of a ticking time bomb. Angela watches you from the corner of her eye, ready to step in should things go south.

“We don’t know,” you shake your head solemnly, “which is why we need your help locating him. Of course, your contributions won’t go unrequited. We will do everything in our power to accommodate to your… situation.”

At long last, his glare falters.

A dry, mirthless laugh falls from his cracked lips. “You speak as though I’ve already accepted your offer.” His head lolls back onto the crumpled sheets and flattened pillow of his hospital bed, defeat and fatigue etched into the creases of his frown. “But, I suppose I have no other choice.”

ISO [1.1K]

2XXX, FLORENCE, ITALY

“Grazie,” you smile kindly at the waiter who brings you your food, taking in the beautiful architecture of the city. It’s a shame that you can’t stay to enjoy the sights, so you do your best to enjoy what little downtime you have.

After your light lunch, you find yourself wandering through the streets, occasionally stopping to window shop, partially to not rouse suspicion, and partially to gaze at the luxuries of the life you had lost long ago. With a shake of your head, you cast those thoughts away, focusing instead on the task at hand.

A small, holographic map emerges from your bracer, marking your location with a white arrow, and the rendezvous point with a blinking red dot. Pushing through the throngs of people would have been a lot easier had you not been barred from using your abilities out in the open. Instead, you find yourself uncomfortably tucked into the corner of a bus with the smell of cigarettes emanating strongly from your seatmate.

Yeah, you’re definitely telling Brim that he can leave going undercover to someone else when you get back to HQ.

It doesn’t take long for your bus to reach your stop, or maybe you simply zoned out. Nevertheless, you quickly exit the bus, excusing yourself as you squeeze past the other passengers. The streets are long, winding, and confusing, but you manage to find yourself before where you need to be.

The Kingdom Corporation building stands out against its surroundings, its walls a sleek white in comparison to the dated and faded hues of the older buildings.

You stare at it a moment, gaze furrowing into a sneer before you turn down a desolate alleyway. You loiter there for a while, swapping between the few selective apps you were allowed to have on your phone and messaging other agents with far more interesting assignments. Only when the sun completely sets and the streetlights flicker to life do you make your move.

Under the cover of darkness, you scale up the wall’s shadow, perching on its tiled roof with practiced ease. The Kingdom building is, as expectedly, far brighter than its neighbors, proudly bolstering its prestige with the illuminated K on the front.

Scouring the building, your eyes land on its unguarded roof. With little effort, you find yourself on it in a blink, the only evidence of your presence being the persistent remnants of shadow that linger at your previous position.

“Get in, and get out. Simple enough,” you murmur to yourself, pulling your hands through the Kingdom labcoat you’d brought along and adjusting the collar.

“Che ci fai qui da solo?” Someone grips your shoulder tightly, spinning you around to face them. You’re met with a masked Kingdom guard who, despite the mask adorned on his face, is clearly irked by your presence. “Sai che non ti è permesso stare qui.”

A moment passes in silence as he studies you. He reaches his hand up to alert his unit but is stopped by a hand gripping his wrist. The guard jolts at the sensation, turning to face the perpetrator only to find…you?

There isn’t much time to think as a fist collides squarely in the center of his abdomen, no doubt at least bruising a few internal organs, and with a strangled cough, he falls limp in your arms. You prop him against a nearby ledge, feeling yourself scowl at the sight before disappearing beneath the crack of the roof’s door in a shadowy wisp. You briskly jump between shadows, painstakingly combing through the building’s floors in order to find the opening you need. Impatience simmers beneath your skin as you traverse yet another long hallway with no leads.

The building’s interior is similar to its exterior, just as bright and empty, if not more so, each hallway seemingly more monotonous than the last. Well, at least the upper levels were. The lower levels, on the other hand, were dark, hidden easily by the corporation’s blinding front.

You reach into your labcoat’s pocket, pulling out a candid shot of your prime suspect–Isabella Romano, one of Kingdom’s up-and-coming scientists as well as one of the lead researchers for the ever-elusive Project Landfall. With a groan of frustration, you find yourself running a hand down your face. However, just as you were about to call it quits and report to Brimstone that the mission was a bust, a soft voice chimes down the hall.

“Bene, bene. Spero di risentirla di nuovo presto.”

Bingo.

Your gaze finds her easily in the group of grunts she’s chosen to surround herself with, blinking behind her and allowing yourself to fall into the group’s collective shadow before anyone could take note of your presence. The ride is silent as the elevator slowly descends, though it is soon broken by the scientist’s phone ringing. She takes a deep breath before picking up, but from your position behind her, it’s difficult to tell who she’s answering to.

“Hello? Yes, this is Isabella,” she replies in English. “Yes, Project Landfall has been progressing smoothly on our end, but our location is less than ideal, unfortunately. Yes, I am aware of the, ah, incident in Norway, but I promise that this will not end up the same. No, we’re still working on preparations, but I will update you as soon as we’re ready to commence opening the portal. Thank you for your time, ma’am, we’ll be sure not to disappoint.” The elevator doors slide open just as Isabella hangs up, revealing a linear metal corridor with almost nowhere for you to hide.

You cling to the shadow of every crevice, tailing the unsuspecting group silently. The corridor isn’t very long, luckily, stopping at another set of metal doors that slide open with a metallic whirr. The room itself is very spacious, with at least fifteen monitors lined neatly against the furthest wall, where a group of at least four people hover around, speaking in hushed whispers while observing something you couldn’t see.

You slip between them, becoming tangible for only a moment and grabbing the first manila folder you could find as you duck behind a supply crate. Your fingers are quick to comb through the files, thumbing through the multitude of useless reports before stopping at a sealed-away section with nothing but the Kingdom logo printed on the front. Footsteps near your hiding place, each step echoing louder than the ringing in your ears.

Then they’re gone.

Fuck it, you decide after a moment’s hesitation.

Tearing off the seal, you’re greeted by manuscripts of all languages pertaining to Project Landfall, just as you’d anticipated. Even the recent radivore encounter at the abandoned Norweigan facility had been documented.

You had to give it to them, these people were nothing if not punctual.

Yasuo [1.5K]

It’s quiet; way too quiet.

Something’s off, you can feel it, but your hand quivers around the handle of your blade, unable to unsheath it. You hear your own heartbeat pound in your ears–a daunting reminder that you’re alone, at least, you hope you are.

The bush nearby rustles–the wind, you reason. A twig snaps in the distance–wildlife, you bargain with your crumbling resolve. Footsteps echo through the underbrush of the forest, growing closer before stopping before you.

By now, your eyes are shut tight, blade long abandoned at your side in favor of protecting your head with your arms.

“A Vastaya?” You hear the person mumble to themself before sighing in what seems to be relief. The sheathing of a blade reaches your ears. Slowly, you gingerly open your tear-rimmed eyes to take a look at the stranger.

He’s looking away, mumbling to himself while he combs a hand through his long, tousled hair. You take the chance to examine his figure. He bares a shoulder pad that seems like it would be more of a hindrance than a help, and his cloak is ripped, exposing his scarred, yet admittedly toned midriff.

You force your gaze to his face, watching as he strokes his five-o’clock shadow between his thumb and forefinger with a pinched brow. There’s a scar across his nose, though it doesn’t make him any less attractive. You ponder on how he got it. A fight? An accident, maybe?

He meets your stare, offering a small grin while raising his hands in the air. “I won’t hurt you,” he starts quietly as if you’d run if he spoke any louder, “promise.” When you don’t flee, he slowly lowers one of his hands to point to himself, taking note of the way you tense, your eyes falling to his sheathed blade.

“I am Yasuo. I mean you no harm, truly.” Though his words seem genuine, you can’t seem to shake the wariness gnawing at your gut.

“Why are you here?” Your voice quivers, hand reaching down to the hilt of your blade. Only the clinking of steel clashing with steel is heard before you land pathetically on your back–vulnerable and unarmed. Your sword lands near Yasuo’s feet with a dramatic thud.

Silence stretches over the two of you. It’s a tense silence; one that leaves your mouth dry despite your constant swallowing. It’s only when Yasuo sheathes his sword do you allow yourself to breathe again.

“I take it you aren’t one for visitors?” His half-joke is met with no answer, even as he begins to awkwardly chuckle to himself. He sighs for what seems to be the nth time in the span of twenty minutes.

He parts his lips to speak, running his tongue along the chapped skin as he tries to find the right words. “Look,” he starts, “I just need a place to rest for a week at most. Then I’ll be out of your hair, I swear.”

“A week?”

“A week.”

Now it’s your turn to sigh, weighing to pros and cons of bringing a stranger–a human, no less–to your home. Your mind begins to spin tales of all the horrid things that could happen if you were to take him in, followed by even more outlandish solutions.

All the while, Yasuo patiently waits, watching how your inhuman ears twitch and fold with every new thought that pops into your mind. When it appears that you’ve finally come to a consensus, he stands a little straighter, forcing down that small bout of anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

“A week,” you say with a resolution that shocks even you, “but no more.”

He offers a grateful smile, handing you your fallen sword before mindlessly following behind you as you begin the trek home.

“I never did catch it. Your name, I mean.” He brushes away a touchy branch with a small scowl, eyes glancing up to meet your hesitant pout. You opt to give him your name–to make it easier for the both of you, you reason.

He says your name, the syllables falling from his silver tongue like a beautiful melody. It sounds nice–hearing your name from the lips of someone after all these years of solitude.

“Yasuo.” His name slips from your tongue before you even have the chance of thinking to stop it. The said man turns to look at you, tilting his head slightly in a silent question.

“Forgive me,” you look away bashfully, “I’m not quite sure what came over me.”

Yasuo hums, leaving the rest of the trek to bask in a silence far more comfortable to the one prior.

—

By no means would you describe your home as grand or lavish. It was a quaint cottage with all the essentials and a flourishing garden around the back. Your companion lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed with what you had to offer.

“...Only a week, right?”

He nods, not once looking in your direction in favor of taking in the view of your house, “Only a week.”

You usher him inside, that last thread of tethered hesitance dissipating when he places his blade by the door.

You breathe a sigh of relief, placing your own blade by his to ward off any of his suspicions. By the time you enter the foyer, he’s sitting stiffly on your couch, eyes unfocused whilst he tries to take up as little room as possible.

“You can relax.” You don’t wait to see his reaction, moving to busy yourself in the kitchen, though your ears do pick up on the small breath he lets out and the creaking of his muscles when he lets his shoulders sag. You wince at the sound. Just how tense was he?

You mindlessly drone through making dinner, taking extra care to make portions big enough for your impromptu guest. You call him into the dining room after setting the table, taking your usual seat while allowing Yasuo to choose his own seat.

He picks a seat across from your own. With one final glance at him, you begin eating your own food, filling the otherwise awkward silence with the scraping of utensils.

Hesitation flickers briefly across the wanderer’s face, and it isn’t until you shoot him a questioning glance does he gingerly place the now-cold food on his tongue. He chews in bites so slow and meticulous that you’re left to wonder if he actually enjoys it or if he’s fighting the urge to spit it out.

“It’s good,” he finally concludes. Your heart feels lighter from the statement, for some odd reason or another.

—

After showering the day’s stress away, it’s safe to say you’re shocked when you find Yasuo laying against the hardwood floor with nothing but a pillow beneath his head and an old blanket draped over his form. His shoulder pad sits forgotten in the corner next to your swords, glinting menacingly beneath the moonlight that peaks through the blinds.

He looks at peace with his eyes closed, chest rising and falling with each steady breath.

“Why are you here?” Tucked into the corner of the couch, you peer over the edge to look at him, voice barely above an inaudible whisper. He hears you, though, because of course, he does.

“I thought we’ve established this already. I just need a place to rest for a bit.”

You sigh, “That’s not what I meant. Why are you here–in this forest? It isn’t exactly hospitable to, uh, humans.” You stumble over your own words, fumbling with the hem of your sleeping gown.

“I’m here because I’m looking for something,” his tone matches your own; hushed and hesitant as if he’s spilling a deep secret to a close friend.

“Looking for something?” You parrot with a curious tilt of your head. He sits up, allowing the blanket to fall and reveal his nude upper half. For the sake of modesty, you focus your gaze on a loose thread on your couch, your ears downturned unconsciously from the embarrassment.

Yasuo watches your movements questioningly, chalking it up to the same fear you had earlier as he stretches his arm behind his head.

“I was…” he trails off, jaw tightening whilst his arms fall limply to his side, landing on the hardwood floors with a dull thud, “I was looking for a way to restore my honor.” His voice cracks at the end of his whispered statement, revealing a sliver of the man beneath his cool and composed bravado.

You hear the self-resentment that seeps deep into his tone–one that you yourself have grown accustomed to. After seeing him in such as disheveled state, you choose not to pry, offering only a soft hum. The silence that befalls the two of you is different than the previous ones.

No awkwardness. No fear. Only serenity.

You fall asleep on the couch that night, feeling far safer than you have in a long time.

–

The first two days pass by without notice. You go about your normal routine, taking care not to take in yet another hopeless wanderer. Yasuo, on the other hand, remains stationed at your humble abode, offering to care for your fauna while you’re out and about. Reluctantly, you agree, handing him a list of dos and don’ts before leaving for the market.

©asarii 2024 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site

87 notes · View notes

chuuyasheaven · 2 years ago

Text

♡ Addicted to your kisses ♡

♡ Tags: Dazai Osamu / afab! Reader, making out, pet names, praising, soft sex??, desk fucking??, idk what's acc happening rn, Reader distracting Dazai, p/without any/p? , might contain grammar errors, rushed drabble, cringe, etc.

♡ Notes: NEW FORMAT ?!?! But also srry for disappearing, school's already making me want to kms

Dazai had a lot to do this week, there were a ridiculous amount of documents and reports which had to be filled. He also didn't take a lot of breaks during all this, and the worst thing of all? Not being able to be around you. Not being around your sweet touches, your sweet voice and most of all, your addictive kisses. But it's probably better this way, he may be locked in his room at all times but atleast he's not getting distracted!

When you first found out, you were glad that he was catching up on stuff, but now it has been almost two days since you last been with him. Hell, you even started to get worried, so why not check up on him? Just a quick peak and small talk and then leave him be? That was your original plan, trying not to get him overwork himself, which started off innocently. . Until you kissed him. It was just a quick kiss on the forehead, how did it escalate to this?!

"S–shit, i missed you so much, 'donna.", Dazai panted between kisses, while you were just eager for his lips to touch yours again. From this one kiss, it all started from one innocent kiss for most of the paperwork to lay on the floor and you sitting on his desk, with your arms around his neck as he made out with you passionately. You were so deep into it that even his tongue entered your mouth, fighting for dominance even though you're submitting to him. Dazai's hands are now on your waist, holding you close to him. "Did you miss me too?"

"Yes, i did. . a lot, 'Samu.", you answered his question, just the way he wanted it. "Your kisses are so addictive, darling, i just can't stop after one.", he explained while looking you in the eyes lovingly. You needed him so bad, it was even a joke anymore, and trust me, he could tell. "You want more, love?", he asked, you nodded once more, eagerly and excitedly. Dazai only smirked and slid of your pants, leaving you in your panties. He then unbuckles his own belt. You could see his obvious boner, getting more excited yourself.

Dazai just took out his dick and pushed your panties impatiently to the side, sliding into you immediately. When he was in fully, you let out a quiet whimper. After waiting for a few seconds for you to adjust, you gave him the sign to start. Dazai moved his hips slowly first, already groaning in pleasure while your whimpers turned into moans. His hands were still on your hips, his head now on your shoulder trying to stay quiet. "You feel so good, f–fuck. .", he grunted softly into your ear, only getting you wetter. Dazai's thrusts got faster as this went on, he himself started to whimper slowly.

"You're s–so pretty, I can't–,", Dazai started, getting cut off by his cock twitching so good inside you, that it he had to take a deep breath to continue. Dazai giggled drunkenly before continuing his sentence. "I c–can't control myself. But you like it, don't you? You l–like the way you have me wrapped around fingers so easily.", You arched your back as he trusted into you deep, letting out a slutty moan during it. "Y–you're such a good girl, I love you so m–much.", he whimpered softly, twitching a second time.

The skin slapping in the room got louder and sloppier, meaning that you and Dazai got closer to your orgasm. You placed your legs around his waist, resulting into him going even deeper than before. "D–dazai,", you whimper loud enough for him to hear. "Y–yes, my love?", he asked while lifting his head from your shoulder, smiling drunkenly at you, very slight drool rolling down the corner of his mouth. "C–can I get a kiss, p–please?", he just leaned in, kissing you again. As his lips smashed against yours, your back arched again. Dazai twitched once more before cumming inside you, both of moaning into the kiss while you came with him at the same time.

Letting go of the kiss, you tried catching your breath and Dazai pulled out a few minutes later, sitting down back onto his chair and leaving you still on top of his desk. "Did you finish your work, 'Samu?", you asked, while Dazai just laid on your thighs breathing lightly. "Not really,", he stated. "Then go finish it. You know what happens when you don't.", you warned him until you felt his warm breath get closer to your inner thighs. "Relax, darling, let me clean you up first, hm?", before you could protest, Dazai was already breathing towards your cunt's direction.

"—I can't leave you leaking our juices onto my desk, can I, 'donna?"

AHHH I ACC LIKE THIS !! ♡

♡ Random tags:: @soukokulatte, @rxyyyyy, @miloofc !!

#Rei's Drabbles !! ♡#dazai smut #bsd dazai #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #dazai x reader

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livlaughloveluke · 2 years ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧- 𝐣.𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get jealous of jacks cast mate, when in reality you have nothing to worry about

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader is kinda self conscious? a little angst turned to fluff :)

based off this request: Reader thinks jack likes one of his other coworkers (or him and r could be childhood friends) but he acc likes her idk from @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

𝐚/𝐧: hope you enjoy!! jack is SUCH a loverboy

jacks radiant laugh echoed from your computer screen, which made you pause the video and start sulking.

you were currently watching an interview over his new romance movie, and god did it make you feel envious.

while his heavenly giggle usually made you grin from ear to ear, this time it made you frown, and you could feel tears forming in your eyes.

you were upset because he was laughing at his cast mate, annie. annie played his love interest in the movie, and you could tell she liked him. and judging by the way he was looking at her in the video, you thought he liked her back.

she was gorgeous, and talented, and really funny too. everything you thought you weren’t.

and the real gut punch is you have no right to be jealous. jack and you weren’t dating, but were only childhood friends. you told eachother everything, and spent countless of hours hanging out.

although, there was one thing you didn’t mention to him. you were helplessly in love with him. your crush developed when you were 13, and it never stopped growing.

you felt like your heart had been stomped on and crumpled up after watching the interview.

it made you feel worse when you realized you were being to much of a “jealous girlfriend” to someone you weren’t even dating.

tears couldn’t help but fall as you scrolled through the comments.

user37638- jack and annie DEFINITELY have something going on 👀

jackslover- wait are him and the blond girl dating?!??

anniesfan4lifeeee- jack and annie would lowkey make such a cute couple omg?!?

you started to feel worse as you realized that maybe he was happy. maybe he did really like her, and you needed to support him. ruining fourteen years of friendship over some stupid feelings is crazy. right?

that was until you hear the front door to your apartment opening. oh shit. jack was supposed to come over at 12! why is he here so early?!?

you checked the time, only to find out that you had spent the whole day sobbing in your, now very messy, bed. you didn’t have time to react before jack was entering your room.

he immediately noticed your tears and went up to you. you stood up out of bed, still wearing your pajamas. well the oversized shirt you had on was his, but whatever.

jack brought you in to a warm embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. after some time, he let go to face you.

he used his thumb to wipe off your tears, looking at you with a concerned expression.

“y/n what happened? you know i hate seeing you like this. do i need to fight someone for you?” jack asks, trying lightening the mood a little.

you smiled, and he took that as his own personal victory.

“its nothing jack. anyways, how was filming in greece?” you say, trying your best to plaster on a happy face and skip over the topic. it didn’t work. god dammit jack, why are you so caring?!?

“it’s not nothing. y/n tell me, please.” jack looks at you with those adorable brown eyes and you know you have to tell him. even if you don’t want to, its best for jack to know.

“if i tell you this, you have to pinky promise this wont ruin anything.” you say, sticking your finger out. he locks pinkies with you, and you both kiss your thumb, signifying that the promise will be kept. jack then waits patiently for you to continue.

“i like you. more than a friendly way. I’ve felt this way since we were thirteen. if you dont like me back, that fine i guess! or if you like annie I totally understand and i think you would make a cute couple-“

jack cuts you off quickly after hearing the last sentence.

“i dont want annie. i want you.”

you look up at him shocked, your mouth slightly open. you notice him looking at your lips, and you get the hint. you close the gap, and place your plump lips on his.

its was like your lips were puzzle pieces, because of how perfectly they fit together. all of your envy washed away at the heavenly sensation.

you both pulled away from the passionate kiss, your lips coated in a mixture of you and jacks spit. you make eye contact with him, and smile. you could finally call him yours.

#jack champion #ethan landry smut #ethan landry #ethan landry angst #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x reader #jack champion x actress! reader #liv’s writing !

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judebellvngham · 2 years ago

Note

Hi can you possibly do like an angst with Jude and like the reader and jude are movjng to spain but like last minute she tells him she doesn’t want to stay there or something like that, maybe because of a job she got somewhere else?

you can do it however just something like that if you want

OUR PLACE , jude b.

notes: i really loved this request so i wanted to make it the first imagine on my acc :)) i’m not sure how much i like this but i hope you enjoy it .. i also added fluff at the end because who doesn’t love fluff

not proofread!!!

✩

“this place is beautiful” you say taking in you and jude’s new apartment in madrid. it was a surreal moment for both of you guys- finally living together in a whole new country. it was scary to say the least, and you thought it was something you wanted up until you actually had to leave.

it was immature of you, to not tell jude about your doubts of moving with him but everything happened so fast because you were sure he would understand. but with the transfer and him just being so happy about being at madrid you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you weren’t going to stay.

jude smiled down at you his eyes glistening with love that would’ve made any other girl drop to their knees, but all you could feel was guilt. you don’t know how it got to this point, all you knew was that as soon as you got of that jet reality hit you like a train wreck.

as much as you loved jude you couldn’t just leave all that you worked for just to support his needs, you had things you wanted to accomplish too. and you wanted to be there for him, truly. just not here.

“yeah, i can’t believe we are going to be living together- like a dream innit” his voiced laced with contentment.

you sighed deeply before giving him a smile, but your eyes showed something deeper.

“yeah a dream.”

✩

after a while of trying to settle you sat on the floor looking for food places near you and jude sat next to you tapping away on his phone.

“i still don’t understand why your bags aren’t here.. i swear i’ve called multiple times.” jude said frustrated letting out a huff.

at this your body stiffness and you go quiet biting your lip, you knew he was going to bring it up at one point. the thought of just telling him ran through your mind but your body just wouldn’t let you— you just continued scrolling through the phone.

“you put yours with mine right?”

you sighed, “i don’t know jude, i’m sure they will show up eventually.” you said not wanting to talk about it anymore.

he scoffed and looked at you, “i mean i paid for the bags to get here today, so no i don’t want to hear ‘eventually’ that’s just bs.” he looked back down at his phone and started typing.

you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before talking, “they aren’t coming jude.” your voice was low and full of disappointment.

jude snapped his head up towards you his face completely unreadable, “what?” it sounded almost like a laugh when he said it.

“they aren’t com—” you started but he cut you off and it almost sounded like he was confused.

“no- yeah i heard you the first time..” jude trailed off, guessing he was trying to understand what you meant by that.

you turned to face him before you started again, “i sent them back home.” and with that you genuinely couldn’t tell what he was thinking right now.

“you what?”

he wasn’t yelling but he might as well have been figuring you were already about to start bursting into tears. “jude..” you grabbed at his hands and he let you.

he let out a soft laugh, trying to hide how confused he felt right now.

“im so confused right now baby, what is happening.”

your breathing started to pick up but there was no backing out now. you picked at his hands and he just continued to look at you, and you couldn’t believe you had to break his heart tonight.

“i sent them back, because i’m not staying here jude. i can’t.” tears threatened to come out as you spoke.

he was still quiet so you continued to speak. “i mean- i just it’s just all too much for me, this isn’t my life.”

his face scrunched up, “what do you mean this isn’t your life?”

“i mean it feels like.. sometimes i’m like living for you? like i’m just giving up my life for you.. and i can’t do that anymore.”

“i still don’t get it y/n” he gave you a look as to explain.

“i stopped going to school for you, i stopped working for you, jesus jude i left my home for you. the only place i ever knew just for you, i just need to do something for me for once.” and of course jude had no idea that you felt this way and the intention wasn’t for him to you just felt that you needed to get it off your chest.

“so what? you were just lying this whole time? why would you even tell me you wanted to move here with me when you didn’t.”

he took a small pause, “and i never asked you to do anything of that, that was your choice- all of this was your choice so don’t make it seem like i made you do any of that.” his voice started to raise.

and he was right, he never made you do any of that. he never asked anything from you but support and it just went a little too far. but your face dropped when he started to pull his hands away from you.

jude was just completely out of it, he didn’t know at all what to think this was mad. how could his own girlfriend do something like that.

you scrambled to your feet and you couldn’t feel anything but hurt in your heart. “jude i have a new job back home, i have to work and support myself- i don’t kick around a ball and get paid for it jude.” and for some reason you were starting to get a little pissed.

“i can support you, i told you that!” you rolled your eyes at this because he still couldn’t grasp your point.

“jude i can’t rely on you to provide everything for me! i won’t let you do that.” you raised your voice at him while the tears that were welling up earlier started to pour out, and you quickly wiped it.

jude’s eyes looked so pleading and it almost made you fold but you couldn’t. it’s like he needed he you so bad to just say that this was some joke.

you weren’t shocked that this is the way this was going but god you wish it hadn’t. “are you upset?” it was a stupid question but you had to ask something.

“am i upset?” he looked at you as if it was the most unbelievable thing he’s ever heard.

“am i upset that my girlfriend lied to me? and came to whole different country with me without the intention of staying?”

“i’m jumping of fucking joy” he spat walking away from you muttering curses to himself.

you trailed behind him trying not to get upset at his attitude since this was your fault technically, “okay jude but you have to understand where i’m coming from..”

“i have to?” he scoffed walking through the hallway.

“you should!”

you follow him into what was supposed to be our bedroom, already having a king sized bed placed in the center of the big room. you watch as he plops down on the bed his back sinking straight into it.

he let out a loud groan whilst running his hands down his face. “what am i supposed to do now?” he says as you sit next to him on the bed.

“jude.. ”

he stayed quiet and all you could hear was his heavy breathing. “you told me you wanted this.. us together like this. what changed?”

his hands started to tremble trying to think of what to say, because he genuinely didn’t know why all of a sudden you started to feel this way.

“are- are you falling out of love with me?” jude blurted out, his voice shaking. he didn’t even know where this question came from but he felt like he had to ask.

you could’ve sworn your eyes almost jumped out your eye sockets because how could he think something like that.

“jude. why would i ever stop loving you, almost everything i do is because i love you.” you explain with your voice trembling.

“so why can’t you stay with me?” jude’s voice was low almost like he didn’t want you to hear him, he hated being emotional in front of you but at this moment he couldn’t help it.

“i’ve already told you jude, i have a job and a life back at home i can’t let it go now.. i’ve worked too hard to just let it all go..”

he was now fully sat up looking at the plain white wall in front of us. it was such an uncomfortable and tense silence you just wish you could go home and cry your eyes out. this was horrible.

he also wanted to cry and tell you how messed up this whole situation was. but nothing came out seemed like the only reaction he had was putting his hands over his face.

you grab his hands away from his face, but he turns his head to avoid making eye contact with you. he was disappointed and you understood why he felt like this completely, i mean springing this up on him the day you guys were moving in have to be too 10 worst ideas.

“jude look at me please.” you pleaded biting down on your bottom lip.

he slowly turned his head to face you, and his pouty face just made you smile taking his face in your hands making him look at you. as you continued to smile at him he couldn’t help but smile too- you were just so beautiful to look at he felt like he could admire you for hours.

“i’m sorry love, i should’ve told you. but you were just so happy- with the transfer and everything i couldn’t ruin that.”

“if you would’ve told me before i would’ve been a lot more understanding than i am now.. you know that.” jude sighed.

“i know..” you pulled his head into your shoulder taking his head in both of your arms massaging the back of his neck in circles.

you hear him let out another sigh of contentment which made you smile, “if it makes you feel any better i’ll be here for 3 weeks with you.”

“for some reason that doesn’t make me feel better but at least i’ll have you for a bit.”

“so are you okay? with me leaving?” you asked lifting his head back up.

“am i okay with it? no, absolutely not.” he answered and you let out saddened sigh.

“but i will accept it and continue to make our relationship work, because i love you and don’t want to lose you.” jude said and you smiled throwing yourself on top of him basically straddling him, both of you giggling.

“of course my girlfriend has to want to be an independent woman.” jude shook his head and you both laugh.

he wrap his arms around you his hands on your lower back.

“we should go ahead and break in this bed huh?”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #real madrid #jb5 #footballer #footballer x reader #footballer angst #fluff #footballer fluff #soccer #football #footie #jude #first imagine #x reader

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sjsmith56 · 3 months ago

Text

The Duality of Nature, Chapter 3 - Return

Summary: The Avengers go to Norway to destroy the Cerberus site but a strange beam incapacitates everyone except Bucky. When the facility explodes he is injured but manages to evacuate the team. After surgery back at the compound it becomes obvious that something is seriously wrong.

Length: 5.2K

Characters: Bucky, Carol, the Avengers, Fury, Noelle, Winter.

Warnings: Mission goes wrong.

Author notes: The description of medical treatment is movie medicine, folks. I did my best but if there are errors or omissions, I’m sorry. Cliffhanger.

<<Chapter 2

Bucky set the course while everyone else busied themselves doing more preparatory work; Sam and Shaun monitored the onboard computers for any updates, while Peter, Kate and Yelena checked the comms pieces and timers for the explosives which would be transferred by portal shortly after their arrival. Dr. Strange and Tony's remote-controlled suit would arrive with the explosives. The decision had been made to use a portal sparingly, not wanting to introduce any excessive energy ripples into the environment of the lab that could interfere with their operations. Scott and Hope were going over some intelligence on their iPad. Thor slept. Carol Danvers acted as co-pilot for this trip, looking over at Bucky.

"Your daughter has sure grown," she said. "Looks just like her mom."

He smiled. "She does take after Noelle," he agreed. "Has my eyes, though. She's quite the kid. Thor wants her to begin training but we want her to be a kid for as long as possible."

"You like being a family man?"

"Love it," he answered. "Avoided even thinking of it before the war, decided during the war that it might not be so bad, then never got the chance until I met Noelle out of the blue."

"I'm happy for you," said Carol. "Does Winnie have abilities?"

"Yeah, she does." He shrugged. "We encourage her to be active like any other kid, but she's already given us a few scares, like jumping from the top of the playground equipment when she was two. She took to swimming like a fish. Already wants to be an Avenger." He looked over at Carol. "I'm good with that. What kept you away so long this time?"

"Hunting renegade Skrull terrorists," she replied. "After what happened here Fury asked me to keep looking for others. Found a few but it wasn't easy. For so long the Kree made it seem like they were all like that but most just want a quiet place to live in peace."

"Don't we all," he replied, then he got a message from Air Traffic Control and activated the mike on his headset. "Roger New York. Avengers aircraft Quebec Mike zero one, acknowledging transfer to Gander Domestic ACC." He switched frequencies and listened for the controller to confirm his position. When it came, he acknowledged them. "Roger Gander. Avengers aircraft Quebec Mike zero one, maintaining assigned course and frequency."

"You want to take a break until we transfer to Shanwick Oceanic?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied. "Didn't get a lot of sleep last night." He noticed her grinning. "It wasn't all that. Too many variables on this mission kept me awake. Had to leave for the couch because I was so restless. I could use some shuteye."

"Go ahead," she said. "If anything comes up, I'll wake you."

With a nod he went over to Sam, advising him that he was going to sleep for a bit. Heading to the back of the quinjet, he pressed a button that popped out a handle and pulled out a bunk. Slipping his jacket and boots off, he laid on the bunk, turned off the overhead light and began some deep breathing, listening to the hum of the aircraft, reading somewhere that it was the equivalent of pink noise, a frequency that should have a calming effect on listeners. It must have worked because when he was awakened, they were under the control of Bodø Oceanic OCA out of northern Norway, less than an hour from their target. He quickly put his boots and jacket on then headed to the pilot's seat, grimacing a little at Carol.

"You should have woken me sooner," he said.

"You needed the sleep," she replied. "The flight was all by the book. I didn't mind."

She updated him on their position then turned control of the quinjet back to him. Sam had already advised HQ of their position and the final preparations of the explosives were being made, prior to sending them through the portal. Just before they landed Sam took another look at the latest satellite readings for any sign of the portal, but nothing was showing up. They landed some distance away from the entrance into the site then everyone assembled their weapons, and each took a number of timers, while Bucky and Carol completed the landing checklist. Bucky then fastened his holsters and inserted his weapons as Carol went out to do a quick recon before they all left the quinjet.

"Everyone miked up?" he asked, receiving their responses in his earpiece. "Carol? What's it like out there?"

"Quiet," she replied. "I don't like this, but we don't have much choice, do we?"

"Nope," answered Sam. He contacted HQ. "Ready for portal insertion. Locate those explosives far away from the quinjet. Don't want them going up and taking out our transport." Acknowledgement came and they watched as a portal formed outside, closer to the entrance of the facility. "Okay, you all know your duties. Carol, Tony, and Strange will monitor the airspace, with Thor at the entrance. The rest of us will take an assortment of charges and place them, then set the timers. Mapping of your assigned section is on your wrist piece. As soon as you're done, come out. Let's go."

The explosives came through the portal by magic, accompanied by Dr. Strange and the Ironman suit, under Tony's remote control. They joined Carol in the sky while the others went to the pallet, noting that their names were on the assorted cases that contained the devices. With Bucky on point and Thor guarding the entrance they entered the facility and raced to their assigned coordinates, setting the charges, then the timers, all of them rigged to go on a signal when the final charge was set by Captain Marvel in the portal. By then they were all to be inside the quinjet, ready for a quick take off. Strange and the Ironman suit were to be back at HQ through another magic portal.

Everything seemed to be going well, as one by one the team members laid the charges and returned to the outside, gathering at the quinjet. Just before Bucky, as the first one in and the last one out, signalled that he was approaching the exit, it all changed. The portal opened above them, visible to Tony first as he was monitoring in the long-range infrared frequency they had discovered. Then the cold started bleeding through, causing the Ironman suit to start malfunctioning. Dr. Strange found out he couldn't handle the temperatures, lowering himself and Tony's suit to the ground where it was warmer, while Carol ventured into the portal to send the explosives, setting the timer and advising everyone to leave. Just as she did that a multi-beam of energy came through as if targeting every individual out there, doing exactly what Joaquin had described; batting them away as if they were flies. Bucky came out of the facility to the scene of everyone on the ground, including Carol, which surprised him as she was virtually invulnerable. Not having been hit by the beam he picked Thor up first, as he was closest, carrying him to the quinjet, somehow avoiding notice of whoever was controlling the beam. Carol was next then he dragged everyone else onboard. Returning for Tony's suit, he had carried it to the ramp, where his luck ran out as he was hit by a glancing blow of the beam, unable to avoid it completely. At that moment, the explosives in the portal went off, followed by those in the facility, and he was caught in the blast wave which lifted him up, then throwing him hard against the side of the ramp. Dazed, he didn't move for a moment before he came around, finished dragging the suit up the ramp, raised it and stumbled to the pilot's seat.

"Emergency takeoff," he mumbled, placing his right hand on the security readout. "Authorization, Barnes, Sergeant James Buchanan ...."

Friday requested the rest of the authorization code but didn't get it as Bucky had passed out and no one else had responded as they were all out as well. Taking a scan to confirm that and noting the addition of Ironman's suit and the presence of Dr. Strange, the AI instituted its own emergency evacuation procedure and took off. The AI made several attempts to initiate communications with HQ, but it wasn't until the aircraft was almost out of Norwegian airspace before it was able to relay the emergency to air traffic control, receiving priority to return to base. It had been 23 hours hours since they left the Avengers base on the mission.

Avengers compound

"What do you mean you've lost contact?" asked Joaquin, who was in the control room with the support staff, monitoring communications. "Bring up the satellites, include the long-range infrared images." As he saw the evidence of the portal opening, then the signs of the explosive charges going off as planned he watched the replay, before noticing the quinjet transponder had moved away from the site. "Contact all the Air Traffic Control agencies for their return flight path. Notify them of the possibility of an emergency evacuation. You better contact Fury as well. This is above my pay grade."

Fury arrived by portal within minutes and watched the displays closely as Joaquin and Tony filled him in on what they had seen. By all indicators the explosives had done their job, destroying the facility and at least had closed the portal, hopefully destroying it. Joaquin also briefed the director on what happened to him previously at the site.

"Let's get all available satellites monitoring that infrared frequency for the reemergence of that portal at any other location," said Fury to the technician on duty. Then he watched the quinjet transponder move from Norwegian airspace into the Scottish ACC airspace. A Scottish accented voice came on. "Avengers HQ, Scottish ACC has received an emergency evacuation request from the aircraft Quebec Mike zero one's AI. How do you want to proceed?"

"Roger, Scotland. Can you give them priority to cross the Atlantic?" asked Fury. "The AI only takes control if there is no one physically able to fly the aircraft."

"Roger, we can do that," said the man's voice. There was a pause. "Confirmed with the AI that all passengers are unconscious and will require medical attention, but all are alive. It updated the passenger list which has been emailed to your contact. The AI also indicated that its multiple attempts to contact you directly have been unsuccessful. Will be flying top speed, with ETA of 2.5 hours. We have advised Shanwick Oceanic, Gander Domestic and New York ATC to continue priority emergency evacuation status of aircraft Quebec Mike zero one. Good luck, Avengers."

"Roger that, Scotland. Thank you for your assistance."

Fury turned to the other two. "We better notify medical, all staff on alert. Just medical, no one else yet."

"Even Noelle and Dawn?" asked Joaquin, referencing Bucky and Sam's wives who were both nurses.

The man in black would have normally glared at anyone who questioned an order, but he also knew he better talk to the two women first. He grimaced slightly at the flyer.

"I'll alert them personally," he said, turning around and leaving the control room. "Friday, locate Noelle Barnes and Dawn Wilson."

"Both women are in their quarters," replied the female voice. "They should be walking their children to play school within moments then reporting for duty in the medical centre."

"Advise Dr. Banner that both women will be delayed and possibly not reporting for duty," he said. "Do not let them leave the play school hallway until I get there. Friday, keep me updated on the quinjet flight."

There was no acknowledgement of any of his requests, but he knew they would be done. As he strode towards the family services wing of the compound, he could see several people hugging their children. Standing back, he watched as Noelle and Dawn arrived, both of them affectionately hugging their children then waving goodbye at them. He stepped forward blocking their path.

"Director Fury," stated Dawn Wilson, smiling. "We don't see you here often."

Noelle read the look on his face instantly. "What's happened?"

"Come with me," he said. "I'd rather do this in private, but they're both alive according to the AI."

Slipping into a nearby office he pressed the control to close and lock the door, then faced the two women who stood in front of him.

"At this point I'm not sure exactly what has happened," he said. "By all the satellite images we have studied so far, the mission went off the way it should, but Scottish air traffic control received communication from the quinjet's AI that it was requesting emergency evacuation priority as all passengers were unconscious. The passenger list included Dr. Strange and the Iron Man suit. They were to have returned by portal, so something went wrong, and they ended up on the quinjet. We were advised to have medical on alert. ETA is 2.5 hours. Since both of your husbands are on that flight, I'm leaving it to you whether you want to be there in your capacity as experienced medical professionals or if you would rather wait as a spouse and let the assigned medical staff deal with whatever is coming."

The two women looked at each other then fixed him with a firm gaze. "We're reporting for duty," said Noelle. "We'll make sure we're assigned to other crew. We've both been there before with family members."

"Very well," he replied, with a stern nod. "I'll let you go. If it gets too hard, you'll be relieved of duty."

They both acknowledged him, and he unlocked the door, watching them leave. All they could do was wait. Neither woman said anything as they quickly strode to the medical centre. Bruce nodded to them as they entered, then drew everyone together.

"All I know so far is that everyone is unconscious, and Friday is flying the quinjet home at top speed," he said. "Considering that Falcon sustained an injury at the same site from an energy beam I am assuming that a similar incident happened. We're looking at broken limbs, possible internal injuries, head injuries, and because of exposure to a cold source with a temperature of absolute zero, possible hypothermia. Let's prep for all contingencies. I'll coordinate triage at the landing site while Helen is in charge up here."

Both women dove into their duties, assembling a cart of supplies to cover the injuries specified by Bruce. Neither said anything to anyone but they could feel the eyes of their co-workers on them, as it was known they were married to Barnes and Wilson. When they had a moment, they called the daycare, advising them they may be delayed picking up their children at the end of the day. Then they waited for anything to come down the line, both of them doing their best to tamp down their worries over their husbands.

Inside the quinjet, 1 hour later

Carol groaned, slowly opening her eyes, then realized she was in the quinjet, and they were in flight. Looking around at the others she realized that she was the only one awake. Tentatively moving her arms and legs she confirmed she had no injuries then stood up, feeling dizzy at first. As she breathed deeply to get her bearings back, she spoke to the AI.

"Friday, what happened?"

"An energy beam from the dimensional portal incapacitated all crew members except one," said the AI. "Sergeant Barnes was still inside the facility when the beam erupted. He carried everyone inside the quinjet and was in the process of bringing in the Ironman suit when he received a glancing blow by the beam, then again from the blast of the explosion at the target site. Although it dazed him, he completed his task and was able to request emergency evacuation before passing out."

"Are we in contact with HQ?" asked Carol.

"Negative, although I have acquired contact with all Air Traffic Control agencies on our flight path. We have received emergency clearance for the entire flight back to the compound." The AI paused for a moment. "If you wish to administer first aid, I am fully capable of continuing to operate the aircraft."

"Do that," said Carol, getting businesslike.

She went to where the first aid kit was, satisfied when she saw there was a portable diagnostic unit, as well as an assortment of sedatives and stimulants, splints, bandages, and neck braces. Starting with Thor she set the unit to the normal settings for an Asgardian, confirming he had no physical injuries other than being unconscious. Peter was next to him, and she reset the unit for enhanced human, found some internal injuries, a bruised lung and kidney, as well as a hairline fracture of his jaw. Quickly she printed a slip with the details of his condition off the unit and attached it to his suit, assuming a triage team would be in place when they landed. There was a broken arm, suffered by Kate, but surprisingly the majority of the others so far had only bruising, superficial cuts, and sprains. Other than the fact everyone else was still out, they had come through it pretty unscathed. She was surprised to see Dr. Strange, but it appeared his cloak had protected him as he had no injuries other than being unconscious. Then she reached Bucky.

"Shit," she said, when she saw the readings indicating a brain bleed, as well as a broken right shoulder, several broken ribs, and a punctured lung. "Bucky? Can you hear me?"

She tapped his cheek, then pinched the back of his right hand to check his pain stimulus response but there was nothing and she printed out the slip that identified him as priority. Being hesitant to even try treating his injuries she instead went for the backboard and used her abilities, which thankfully still worked, to levitate him while she slid the board under his body. Gingerly, she attached a collar to keep his head steady then strapped him on the board. When she finished, she glanced over at Thor, who had started moving.

"Thor," she said, moving closer and tapping his cheek. "Wake up, big guy. I need you."

"Father, were we the victors?" He mumbled some more then opened his eyes and slowly focused on Carol. "Danvers, what happened?"

"Same thing that happened to Joaquin by what Friday tells me," she said. "You have no injuries, but I need you to monitor Peter. He has a bruised lung and kidney. Keep him from moving around. There should be another backboard you can load him on. Just be careful you don't do more damage." She looked over at Bucky. "Apparently, he carried us all in then was hurt himself. He's in rough shape."

Thor smiled slightly and nodded. "He has always been worthy of our trust," he said, with admiration. "I will take care of young Peter."

"Captain Marvel, I have reestablished communications with Avengers HQ," said Friday. "Do you wish to respond?"

"Yes, put me through," said Carol. "Avengers HQ, do you hear me? It's Carol."

"Roger, Carol," said Joaquin, sounding relieved. "We've been trying ever since we lost contact. What's your status?"

"So far, only myself and Thor are conscious, neither of us have other injuries," she said. "I've already done preliminary triage, identifying Bucky, and Peter as priorities, followed by Kate with a broken arm. Everyone else is just banged up, with cuts and bruises. Was our objective achieved?"

"So far, it appears the link has been destroyed but we are monitoring all available satellites for other incursions," said Joaquin.

"Fury here," said another voice, and Carol smirked, not surprised he was there. "How bad are the injuries?"

"Bucky has a brain bleed, broken right shoulder, several broken ribs and a punctured lung. Friday said he was thrown by the blast wave, but he still managed to get us all onboard and start the emergency evacuation then the AI took over when he passed out. Peter has a hairline fracture of the jaw, bruised lung and kidney. Kate has the broken arm. Everyone else is just banged up but they're all still unconscious."

"Okay, your ETA at this point is 10 minutes," said Fury. "We'll let medical evacuate everyone. I still want you and Thor to get checked out then we'll talk. Fury out."

She sat back, satisfied that she had done all that she could but until Dr. Strange looked into the past and saw exactly what happened they were still as clueless about that portal as they had been. Returning to Bucky's side she monitored his vital signs, letting Friday land the quinjet. When the ramp came down the triage team came up, picking Bucky up first and carrying the backboard down to the waiting gurney where Bruce read the triage note. He looked back at Carol, smiled and gave her a thumbs up for thinking of doing this part of his job first. Then Bucky was wheeled away, and they came for Peter next. He was also wheeled away. Carol and Thor moved down the ramp, leaving more room for the others to be lifted onto gurneys and wheeled in after Bruce gave them the once over. Finally, it was just him and those two.

"Fury wants you two to be checked out quickly," he said. "I can do it in the elevator on the way up. Since you're both enhanced, I'm guessing you're okay. Let's start with you Carol, tell me everything. You shouldn't have been affected by anything."

She recounted her last memory before waking up on the floor of the quinjet, of being lightheaded when she woke up then recounting what Friday told her, before she began treating the injured. Then he turned to Thor who told him what he remembered, except Carol mentioned what he said when he first started stirring.

"I must have been dreaming of a battle fighting at my father's side," he said. "I don't remember thinking of any of it or of saying it. Very strange."

"Okay, I'm good with declaring you both released from medical," said Bruce. "But let me know immediately if you experience anything out of the ordinary and I mean anything."

The elevator to the medical floor opened to a scene of organized chaos where everyone was intent on treating the patient in their care. Carol and Thor stayed at the entrance to the medical centre, not wanting to add to the scene then she nudged Thor, gesturing to where Noelle and Dawn were treating their patients, while trying not to look over at their husbands. He gave her a grim smile.

"They are good wives," he said. "Both men chose well."

Bruce joined Helen who was bent over Bucky, checking all of his vitals before sending him for an MRI to determine the extent of the brain bleed. She had already inserted a tube into his chest to treat the punctured lung.

"I have a neurosurgeon on notice for immediate surgery," she said, in a low voice, trying not to alarm Noelle. "But we'll need to use a portal to get him there. If Bucky's already sustained significant brain damage, there might not be much he can do."

"That's why you need me," said a voice nearby and Dr. Strange joined the pair, still looking a little pale but alright otherwise. "I can do the surgery. I'm still certified. They'll treat him as a normal human, but we know his enhanced abilities gives him a better chance than most people." He looked over at Noelle briefly. "He's already been unconscious for several hours. I can stop time in the operating room, time I can use to treat him and fix the damage. Get him to the MRI then straight to the surgical suite. You still have a neurosurgical package in storage?"

Bruce nodded. "Alright, I'll get the OR ready," he said. "Know any residents or OR nurses that you can work with?"

Strange smiled his enigmatic smile. "Leave that to me. Just get the imaging done."

Twenty minutes later Strange and Dr. Nicodemus West were scrubbing up to perform surgery on Bucky. Two neurosurgical nurses had already scrubbed and were preparing the super soldier for the procedure while an anesthesiologist who had monitored Bucky before agreed to do it again, although this was going to be a slightly different situation. Strange explained to West how he had already stopped time on the brain bleed and that Barnes, as an enhanced human had great regenerative abilities. The MRI imaging was being displayed as they scrubbed.

"Why me, Stephen?" asked West. "I know you've never thought of me as a capable surgeon."

"On the contrary," replied Strange. "Your shortcomings were because you were trying to compete with me. Since I no longer need the thrill of performing exemplary work to prove my superiority you have allowed your own abilities to excel." He stopped and looked at West in a conciliatory fashion. "I have faith in our combined skills to save Barnes' life."

West sniffed, understanding that was the closest to an admission of confidence he was ever going to get from Dr. Stephen Strange. One of the medical centre nurses met them with sanitized towels to dry their hands while another helped them gown up. As they entered the OR both surgeons acknowledged the others as they approached the operating table where Bucky's head was elevated and a spot on his skull already shaved.

"Begin the music," said Strange.

Outside the operating room, the sounds of jazz reached where Nick Fury, Bruce Banner and Helen Cho were observing the craniotomy surgery. When the piece of Bucky's skull was removed and placed in a tray Fury left and headed towards a waiting area where several of the Avengers who had been released were waiting. They were all sitting with Noelle who had been relieved of duty after she finished treating Scott Lang.

"It's started," he said. "It's going to be a while. What about your daughter?"

"Dawn Wilson has picked her up and will look after her until I have something to tell her," stated Noelle. "Are you staying?"

"Yes," he replied. "I'll stay if you wish me to stay."

She nodded and Fury took a seat. He did take his cell phone out to monitor other situations, occasionally texting something. More of the Avengers came to wait but no one talked. Instead, they all sat silently although Thor started to fidget. After some time of becoming more agitated he finally stood up and kneeled on one knee before Noelle, taking one of her hands in his.

"I'm sorry, I must do something," he said. "It is difficult for me to wait in silence. Buck is a strong man and a worthy one. He will come through this. I am sure of it."

"Thank you for waiting," she smiled. "Go do whatever you must." She looked at the others. "Please, don't feel you have to stay with me. As soon as I hear anything I will pass it on."

Several of the others stood up then came over to hug Noelle, leaving reluctantly. She truly didn't mind as most of them hadn't even changed out of their tactical gear and likely needed a shower and some food. Fury, Sam, and Joaquin stayed, along with Yelena, who held hands with Joaquin. Carol returned a short time later with donuts and coffee, then sat down with the others. As the surgery neared the 5-hour mark Bruce and Helen appeared in the waiting area.

"It's done," said Bruce. "Dr. Strange is just removing the time spell and checking to make sure the sutures hold."

A few moments later there was yelling and Dr. West, the anesthesiologist and the nurses came running out. The others stood up, with Noelle wanting to go in immediately, but Fury looked to Sam, who held her in place. Fury then gestured to Carol to go with him, finding Strange on the floor, wrapped securely in his cloak except for his one hand which was keeping Bucky floating in the air. He was immobilized but his face was full of anger as he struggled to free himself from the spell.

"What the hell?" said Fury, looking from Bucky to Strange.

"As soon as I removed the time spell, he awakened but he wasn't Bucky," said the doctor. "He ripped his IV out and was trying to get away. He was speaking in Russian."

Fury looked closely at Bucky who stopped struggling when he noticed the director. It was an eerie sensation for the director to look into the dark eyes of Bucky Barnes but instead of seeing the usual recognition from the man, saw something he hadn't seen since 2014.

"Soldat, speak English," said Fury, in Russian, already dreading what may have happened.

"Fury, Nicholas J., targeted for elimination on March 14, 2014," said the Soldier, in a deep, almost monotone voice. "Target eluded first attempt. Second attempt was thought to be successful, but it was revealed that the target survived." He noticed Carol. "Danvers, Carol Susan Jane, code name Captain Marvel, human-Kree hybrid." The others came in and he identified Joaquin and Yelena in a similar manner, then Noelle pushed her way in, and he stopped speaking for a moment when he saw her, staring at her intensely instead. When he resumed speaking, his manner was more like Bucky's. "Noelle Belanger Barnes, married to James Buchanan Barnes, June 1, 2024. Mother of his daughter, Winnie Sarah Barnes, born March 17, 2025."

"What's happened to him?" asked Noelle, her face clouded by fear. "Why is he talking like that?"

Sam was behind her, drawing the Soldier's notice. "Wilson, Samuel Thomas, code name Captain America, present during elimination attempt on Rogers, Steven and Romanoff, Natasha, targeted under previous code name Falcon during launch of Project Insight ...." His voice trailed off as he looked at Noelle again. This time his voice was anxious. "Where's Winnie?"

"Soldier, what was your mission?" asked Fury. The Soldier still stared at Noelle, so he repeated it in Russian. "Soldat, what was your mission?"

He slowly turned his gaze towards Fury. "Set and detonate charges at site of suspected Cerberus lab, protect Avengers team, return team safely to headquarters," he said, as if he was repeating it by memory.

"Mission report," ordered the director.

"Site destroyed; beam of unknown origin was directed at team members, incapacitating them, requiring immediate evacuation. The Asset lost consciousness until awakening in medical lab. The Asset panicked, assuming recapture by HYDRA. The team, are they safe?"

"Everyone came back in the quinjet," said Sam. "You saved everyone."

"No, there is one casualty," said the Soldier. "He isn't there anymore. The Asset failed the last requirement of the mission."

Noelle came closer to him. "Who is the casualty?" she pleaded. "Please tell me."

He blinked his eyes several times, then licked his lips, displaying anxiety. "Barnes, James Buchanan, Sergeant. Birthdate, March 10, 1917. Previous code name, Winter Soldier. Current code name, White Wolf."

Chapter 4>>

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #winter soldier fanfiction #soft winter soldier #vibranium universe

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fromdarzaitoleeza · 1 year ago

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Ahh it's the last day of 2023 already?

I am expecting a call from a friend although the possibility of this happening is very slim it always felt nice to hear the voice of an old friend ( I'm not a text person I've realised this over time but I am stuck to be a text person) .

I can't wait for spring to come in 2024 , spring provides an intense amount of healing to my soul.

The next four months are very crucial in my life if they go well I can survive the rest of the year, I have died a couple of times this year and I am amazed that I am alive i didn't honestly thought i would make it to the end of this year ( especially in the last 3 months , I badly needed help but i didn't wanted others to pity me so i spoke to none about it ) anyways I don't want to talk about it , i don't want to make it sound blue than it already is,a i am really sorry about the fact all my posts are blue I sincerely wish it wasn't that way( altho i haven't posted anything here with as much as devotion I use to do , partly cuz i created an Instagram acc but that's not all reason I ve been sad nonetheless) and sorry for all the "anon/asks" that i haven't answered

I have made no achievements this year and there is little to no progress towards my self love or self growth, but I think that's okay I can do it in the upcoming year, time flies so quick i can't believe Its been so many years since I was 16 I miss being 16 honestly I had more in me back then than i have now , i have lost of confidence my vision and my smile over the years it's as if I am very different person now , i certainly wish I wasn't this way i really thought i would be so much more and better in my early 20s but it is what it is , acceptance is haredest of all emotions in my opinion , you know things are harder to accept when you know you could have done better .

Just like in the last 2 years even this year I didn't make any real life friends with whom I can hang out with i think it's partly due to the fact some people are destined to be alone and I am afraid to admit I am one of them , I did make 2 online friends this year .

I don't want to share any life lessons i learnt this year but if there is something i would love to share is choose yourself one more time each time you feel it's the last time you are doing it , choose one more time to live,one more time to hope, one more time to have faith , one more time to start again [ the fact I am the one telling you this is rediciculosly funny ] .

Unlike most people i don't have a lot of goals for the new year I just got things i want to avoid ( idk if that's the same thing?) Avoid my leftover heart's heartbreak, avoiding what takes away my peace, avoiding what can cause me discomfort, avoiding things that make me question myself ( in any negative way) ,i think that's a little too much but that's it .

As I was writing this Google photos sent me a notification saying " 3 years back today with a photo of mine " and it broke my heart a little, now I am questioning myself how did i let so much happen to me , I wish I treated certain things as the last time instead of always stupidly believing in future ( my worse trait yes).

There is a lot to say as always, i wonder if I open my mouth i would never stop sharing things that go inside my mind , but i also know there is no use of it if i can't find people who can understand it , maybe that's how I end up ranting here .

Not to mention I love people who are patient, i believe in the near future i would only like to talk with people who could be patient with me and with my silence . I believe everyone deserves people who can be patient with them .

Nothing really matters in the end but at the same time everything you do matters ❤️‍🩹

#i was awaken by a dog crying near my apartment and soon other dogs joined him #i am half awake half drowsy

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s7-evermore · 2 years ago

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Ch. 3 - Terms and Conditions

This is The Boyfriend Contract series, Chapter 3. Inspired by The Love Hypothesis and The Business Proposal. Azul Ashengrotto x fem! Yuu (reader). You can view this on ao3.

Ch. 2 | Next chapter

Terms and conditions, in contracts, refer to the contractual rights and obligations of a party to any contract. Also known as that long list of word vomit you skip when downloading a new game or app— but when it comes to Azul Ashengrotto, one must lay down some sort of groundwork.

A lot of unexpected things happen in Yuu’s life. A good example is suddenly waking up in a new world after accidentally falling into a nearby river upon seeing a carriage pop up behind her.

Not a fun story.

Aside from that, one of the most unexpected things she had done her whole life was what she was doing right now.

Standing in front of Azul’s office.

Floyd willingly escorted her there but left as soon as they reached the door. He gave her a toothy grin, wishing her luck before leaving her alone. Weirdo. But then again, that word alone wasn’t enough to describe Floyd Leech.

(As a magicless student, Yuu was at the very very bottom of the chain. This made her a consistent target of whoever felt like messing with her, fellow freshmen or upperclassmen. Today, however, people seemed too intimidated to do or say shit to her face, and she was sure that it was thanks to a certain rumor that spread like wildfire throughout the school.

During a joint class with a second-year class in Potionology, some students stopped stealing her vials and ingredients when she wasn’t looking, and none of them tried to put the chemicals she needed on higher, unreachable, shelves (which was a common prank they liked to pull on her, all thanks to her five-foot-three ass).

In Gym class, when one of her classmates accidentally hit her with a soccer ball, he apologized so profusely that Yuu almost felt guilty for getting hit.

In Sam’s store during a free period, when she wanted to get the last pack of her favorite Gummy worms, the student who took it from right under her nose had generously given it to her when he realized who she was.

And during lunch, no one dared to cut in front of her when she lined up, they wouldn’t touch Grim or her friends either.

“Damn, seems like being friends with a housewarden’s girlfriend comes with some perks,” Ace grinned as he took a bite of his lunch. He managed to snag one of the good items on the menu before they sold out, all because those in the line with them were too afraid to mess with Yuu.

“Guess Yuu dating Azul isn’t so bad after all,” the ginger boy added.

She felt a little guilty exploiting a huge misunderstanding, but this was Night Raven College. She will take what she could get.

And maybe… just maybe… this would help her out.)

She took a deep breath and flexed her fingers before knocking on the door.

“Who is it?” Azul’s voice, muffled by the door, called out.

“Um, it’s me. Are you busy?”

She heard a little bit of shuffling from the other side before hearing him say: “No, not too much. Come in.”

She took another breath before twisting the doorknob. He was seated behind his desk, and from the looks of it, he must have been working on some documents. He had a small stack of them on his left, indicating that they were done with, and on his right was a sheaf of papers.

“Take a seat,” he gestured to one of the couches before standing up to sit in front of her. “I take it you came here to talk about last time?”

Straight to the point, but then again, she wasn’t planning on stalling either.

“Uh, yeah. I thought about it for a bit, and…and it might actually be a good idea.”

For several reasons, the contract would get a lot of people off her back, persistent admirers, and bullies. Her friends didn’t seem to be as strongly against it as they had been during the weekend, and if they had their suspicions, they kept it to themselves.

Whatever happened during the weekend, Ace simply said that he and the others were willing to accept whatever she had with Azul as long as he wasn’t holding her hostage with a contract. They didn’t press for an explanation either, only saying that she could tell them and the others when she felt ready.

They may be troublemakers in their own right, but she loved these boys to death.

Azul had a small smile on his face, very professional, but it had a little something in it that Yuu couldn’t pinpoint, “Very well. Shall we get to the details?”

He stood up momentarily to pick up a sheaf of papers from his desk before settling back into his seat. He placed a piece of paper in front of her— the first page of their contract.

“I’ve written down the basic terms and conditions of our agreement after you left,” he said.

She tilted her head, “Did you already expect me to say yes?”

“To be honest, not really. But my foresight allows me to be prepared for any eventuality,” his face had its usual modest expression, it was as if he wouldn’t care at all if she decided to discard the whole fake dating idea.

To be fair, since it was Azul she was dealing with, she was sure he would have found another way to get the deal he wanted one way or another.

She picked up the paper and read it carefully. After dealing with his contract in the past, she learned to read all her contracts properly despite how long they might be. She made sure to look for fine prints that she might miss, just to be safe.

Once she was sure that the conditions were written correctly with no elaborate wording that may cause misunderstandings, she nodded and placed the paper back down.

“Is it sufficient for you?” He asked, “If you wish to add more to our terms, you may do so, but keep in mind that I might have to make some changes of my own as well, you know, to keep the balance.”

“The conditions are fine, and… actually, I would like to set some ground rules, my own terms, if you will.”

There was a hint of a smirk on his face, “You seem to have thought this through more than I expected you to. And here I was thinking you would thoughtlessly sign this one.”

She shrugged, “it’s standard protocol when it comes to fake-dating relationships.”

He raised a brow, “standard protocol?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you done something like this before?”

“The contracts or the fake-dating?”

“The latter.”

“Nope. I just know the trope.”

He blinked, “The what..?”

She ignored his confusion and shook her head, “Okay, first of all, you will not use our agreement as an incentive to lure my friends into a contract.”

He sighed, “I suppose I expected that. You’re strangely attached to those boys.”

“You’d know how it feels if you had people you consider precious to you, outside of business that is,” she said, waving his remark off. That seemed to shut him up. “Anyway. Second, before making any relationship-related decisions, you will always, and I mean always tell me first before deciding anything. Ask for my consent, and I’ll ask you for yours.”

“Deal.”

“Third rule,” it was going to be weird, but it was necessary. She braced herself, “No sex.”

His eyes widened as he stared at her with parted lips. He didn’t move, not even a single inch save for the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His reaction made her heart sink to her stomach, was he… was he expecting to…with her… at some point…? Was it…? Did he…?

Panic rose in her heart as she tried to stand up, “Um, I’m sorry, if you were expecting us to, uh, do that, then I’m afraid I can’t—“

“No!” Life returned to him in an instant, “No, no it’s nothing like that. I was just... surprised. I didn’t think it would be important enough to bring it up.”

Oh… then maybe she was the weirdo here.

“S-Sorry… I was just—“

He shook his head, “No, it’s alright. You’re straightforward. I wouldn’t want to do anything that made you uncomfortable. Terms like that are important for setting up mutual agreements after all…” he coughed into a gloved fist. “My apologies.”

His awkward movements weren’t hard to miss, the professional persona he had built up in front of her crumbled, and all that was left was an awkward teenage boy.

He then nodded firmly, “Okay, no sex.”

And, well, it is awkward, because she’s sitting in his office alone with him, talking about sex. Of all things.

“Yes, no sex,” she repeated.

Okay. Don’t think about it. Back to the rules.

“Anyway, uh fourth rule— or whatever. It’s not really a rule, but you can hold me accountable for it: during the duration of our agreement, I won’t date anyone else. Like real real dating. You know, to make it believable. I don’t do real dating anyway.”

He simply stared at her.

“Uh! But you can date others if you’d like!” She hastily added, “Just— just not on campus or anywhere anyone can see. It’ll look…kind of stupid.” I’ll look kind of stupid.

He shook his head, “No, it’s fine. I won’t.”

“Awesome! And if ever you do end up dating someone else, then—”

“I won’t date anyone else either.”

…Oh.

“Oh,” she said, rather dumbly. Well, what did she expect, honestly? If Azul was interested in someone else, he wouldn’t be asking her to fake-date him for a potential business contract. “Okay…cool, cool.”

“Anything else?”

“One last rule,” and the most important one.

He nodded, staying silent to let her continue.

“We must never fall in love with each other.”

Something changed within Azul when she said that. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was, but even though the only thing that changed outwardly was the way his eyes widened a fraction, something with his aura, his being, wavered.

It’s like the way the music changes-- when the vibe of the song changes the atmosphere. It’s the way the air shifts when you realize it’s going to rain soon. It’s… well, it’s the way the look in his eyes changed into something she couldn’t comprehend.

It’s weird, but it’s there.

“Pardon?” He finally spoke.

“I know it sounds weird, but… well, I feel like it’s necessary to say it, as unlikely as it is to happen,” she replied.

It wasn’t as though Azul was unattractive, the complete opposite actually. He was handsome, intelligent, talented, ambitious— he’s probably a lot of other girls’ dream boy. Maybe in the future, he’d find someone for him, but they weren’t there yet. They were right here, right now.

Right now isn’t the time for her to fall in love, not when she has to go home, to the world where she belongs.

Right here isn’t the time for him to fall in love. No… he was ambitious, and she knew that he knew the time wasn’t right for him yet. Not when he’s chasing too much.

Right here, right now, isn’t the time for the both of them.

“Don’t fall in love with me, and I won’t fall in love with you,” she continued. “If any of us starts feeling anything similar to love for each other, we must terminate the contract immediately.”

“Understandable,” he said, pushing up his glasses. They reflected the light well enough that she couldn’t see his eyes for a moment. “No falling in love.”

“No falling in love,” she nodded.

“Are those all?” He asked.

“Yup! All five of my terms. Well, if you can even call them that… uh, is there anything else you want to add?”

“No. I’ve already put down what I wanted, which is everything you’ve initially read.”

“And you’ll consider my terms?”

“There’s no consideration needed. Your terms are reasonable, so I must comply.”

“You’re…weirdly compliant with this.”

“It’s a mutual contract, is it not?” He said questioningly, “While I don’t need to use my signature spell, a contract is a contract.”

And he stays true to them…

“Alright! Then I must keep up my end of the bargain. So how should we go about this? Should we start getting coffee together or something?”

“Coffee? Like coffee dates?” He asked.

“Oh? So you’re familiar with them? Have you ever had a coffee date, Azul?” She asked teasingly.

He frowned, “You know full well I haven’t.”

“I know. I was kidding,” she giggled, “it’s nothing to be ashamed of either. Well, unless you were me on my first date.”

He raised a brow, looking rather interested, “Oh? Sounds like a nice conversation topic--" he smirked, "--for a date."

“Well too bad, there are other more interesting topics,” she rolled her eyes, “when are you free? Since you’re a housewarden, your mornings must be packed.”

“We can have coffee and breakfast together in the cafeteria on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Occasionally Fridays too, but I will have to contact you on that every now and then,” he explained.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays then,” she said with a smile, "And maybe Fridays."

“Is that a deal?” He extended his hand.

With a deep breath, Yuu took his hand. His fingers wrapped around hers like tendrils, and he shook them, firmly and gently.

She noticed they were warm, big, and...... gloveless.

“It’s a deal.”

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #The Boyfriend Contract - TWST fanfic

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blossoming-mind-palace · 7 months ago

Note

Can I request modern day headcannons for everyone? Including Chung Mei Lee Xue

I already posted something similar, but I decided to repost it, tweak it, and added new characters. Chung Mei and Lee Xue already come from the modern day, so some of these are just facts about them. Besides that, it’s a separate (and happier) universe where the ROTBB characters were born in the same time period.

Btw OC stuff is under the cut for people that aren’t into that kinda stuff.

ROTBB Modern AU (SFW)

Chung Myung

Still went straight to the workforce after graduating high school. He had a high GPA, but just didn’t want to pursue any higher education. He’s a security guard at a university thanks to Chung Mun being a professor there.

Like Chung Mun, he thrifts most of his clothes. Rarely splurges on new pieces unless he know’s it’s really high quality and will last a looooong time. Outside of work he likes to wear dark colors, jeans, and leather jackets. Occasionally wears florals and prefers embroidery over prints because they last longer.

I’m gonna place him in his 30s unlike my original post. He still isn’t proficient with technology though.

In a boxing club, and is the best fighter in it. (Obviously)

He’s a really bad driver and has been in multiple accidents. He’s an aggressive driver and has totaled at least two cars. Has a scar from one of those accidents and will show it off when asked.

Can cook, but eats a lot of fast food because it’s cheap and convenient. If he eats a home-cooked meal it’s either because he was in the mood to cook or Chung Mun made dinner.

I feel like he’d listen to older rock.

Chung Mun

Everyone’s favorite professor, but I can’t decide on what he’d teach. Maybe social sciences? Idk.

Succeeds at keeping his student’s attention and is pretty merciful when it comes to deadlines. He knows that shit happens and doesn’t get passive aggressive if you can’t turn in your assignment on time, but knows when to put his foot down if students take advantage of this.

Thrift king. Comfort > style. Wears beige or warm colors, and is a big fan of sweaters.

A better driver than Chung Myung. Has no idea how Chung Myung became such a bad driver because he taught him. Drives a modest used car.

Only listens to older songs/genres. Once thrifted a record player and taught himself how to fix it, and he only buys used vinyls because the newer ones are expensive.

Jo Gul

Around freshmen/sophomore grade. Currently working towards a general education degree, but his dad wants him to major in something business-related. Jo Gul is thinking about changing his major to something fitness-related despite his dad’s wishes.

Likes to wear graphic tees, trendy prints and jeans. I can see him rocking a beanie, too. Idk why.

Met Chung Myung at their boxing club. Got his ass handed to him on the first day, but still attends regularly. (Thanks Chung Myung)

They also frequent the same gym. Lifts a lot and likes to show off his arms.

His guilty pleasure is crappy romance shows/movies. Will go on long-winded rants about them and who should’ve gotten together. Did not shut up about Bridgerton when the new season came out. (Same)

A fan of pop and rock music.

Yunjong

Another thrift king! He doesn’t follow trends and just buys whatever’s comfy and would last long.

He’s a university student, but unlike Jo Gul, he’s there on scholarship and has to work to feed himself. (he’s still an orphan)

During his limited free time, he likes to pirate movies, read in the university’s library, and occasionally plays DnD. He makes a really good dungeon master or team leader.

Fantasy nerd!! Likes to escape to fantasy worlds to distract himself from how stressful his life is.

Doesn’t drive, but rides a bike instead so he won’t have to pay for gas.

Baek Cheon

Two grades ahead of Jo Gul and Yunjong. Couldn’t get into the same school as his brother, so he ended up going to their rival university.

Top of his class and on the dean’s list. Has no idea why the other school wouldn’t accept him.

He’s an excellent tutor and is one of Chung Mun’s favorite students. I still don’t know what he’d major in though. </3

Accidentally walked in on one of Yunjong’s DnD meetings. Initially did not understand the hype, but joined anyway and still attends meetings consistently.

Also uses a bike instead of a car because it’s good exercise.

Used to wear brand-named clothes, but stopped after he moved out of his family’s home. After that, he became an expert at looking expensive while not breaking the bank.

Yu Iseol

Goes to university, but struggles with going to events and doing extra-curricular activities. Also at the top of her class and is Baek Cheon’s academic rival.

Goes to the same gym as Jo Gul and outperforms him like the queen she is. Makes her own workout routines inspired by fictional characters.

Again, she’s a shounen fan. She thinks genres like that are inspiring, and she likes to rewatch her favorite shows a lot.

Accidentally stumbled across the boxing club and almost beat Chung Myung. She doesn’t attend meetings anymore, but the members still respect her because she went toe-to-toe with their best boxer.

Occasionally helps Baek Cheon tutor, and they’ve both tutored Yunjong and Jo Gul before. She’s not very good at explaining things, though.

Wears men’s clothing because women’s clothing is often low-quality and impractical. Her style is plain and baggy, but she somehow makes it look couture. Likes to wear her dad’s hand-me-downs when she misses him.

Tang Soso

Biology major of course! Just a grade under Yu Iseol and Baek Cheon.

Freaks people out with how obsessive she is with science. Has an iron-stomach and isn’t phased by gross lessons or projects. Magically not phased by the smell of formaldehyde, either. That last one REALLY freaks her peers out.

Like Jo Gul, she doesn’t have to work outside of school thanks to her family’s support. Her family has made a lot of donations towards the schools she went to over the years.

LOVES yapping about the sciences and randomly info-dumps about it. Yu Iseol likes to listen to her lecture about her latest scientific obsession. Tang Soso could talk for hours, and Yu Iseol could listen to her for hours.

Keeps up with trends, and has an elegant style. A lot of people wouldn’t guess she’s so weird thanks to how classy/lady-like her fashion sense is.

Yu Iseol’s dorm mate. They met after being randomly chosen for each other.

Tang Soso owns a nice car and takes really good care of it. Is Yu Iseol’s carpool, but she’s trying to teach her how to drive. It’s going well. (Better than the Chung brothers that’s for fucking sure-)

Has a pet snake back at home. Her younger siblings take care of it while she’s gone, but she misses it during the semester.

Tang Bo

Biology professor who likes to annoy the security guard during his breaks.

Tang Soso doesn’t take any of his classes since they’re family, but he does tutor her from time to time.

Her snake was a gift from him and he’s glad that she’s taken such good care of it.

He’s her favorite uncle but shhhh don’t tell the others. Promised her dad he’d keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t get into trouble while she’s at uni.

Most students either think he’s fun or ruthless. There’s no in between. His classes are not easy, and he isn’t as forgiving as Chung Mun when it comes to deadlines.

Despite nagging other people about drinking too much caffeine, he has a mild caffeine addiction. He’s also not a morning person, so he’d literally be the “Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee” meme were a person.

Chung Mun is one of the few coworkers he gets along with, and goes out drinking during the weekends with Chung Myung. (Some things never change)

Wears a lot of dark colors and has a polished style until the end of the semester. At that point he gets burnt out and doesn’t care. (Me)

Lee Songbaek

Goes to the rival university, but he’s pleasant to be around so the crew doesn’t hate him.

Majoring in photography and has a part-time job at a small café.

Has a clean style and wears a lot of university hoodies/sweaters. He’s really popular on social media, and he mostly posts his outfits, latte art, and his photography.

Jin Geumryong

Oh I hate writing about this man! I never know what to do with him.

About to graduate, and, like his brother, is at the top of his class. Idk what he’d do afterwards, but he’d definitely become an alumni in the future.

Unlike his brother, he still wears high-end clothes. He doesn’t wear logos because they’re tacky, though. His style is classy with a lot of white, blue, and occasionally black.

I feel like he’s moved out and has a really nice apartment. Has nice furniture and keeps it clean despite his busy academic schedule.

Chung Mei (OC)

Almost graduated with the degree her dad wanted, had an early-mid life crisis, took a few gap years, and went back to get the degree she wanted after talking to her sister about her troubles. Would want to major in something art, writing, or education-related.

Was on the dean’s list until she broke down. Her grades are still pretty good, but she doesn’t stress out over them like she used to.

Like Chung Myung, she’s in her 30s. Still has the same relationship history as the original timeline. (Rip)

A part-time student and spends a lot of her time working. I feel like she’d be the university’s anti-social librarian. She works hard but hates helping people because social anxiety. Really nice when she’s comfy with you, though.

Tutoring is held in the library, and DnD meetings are held in one of the spare meeting rooms. This is how she meets most of the crew.

Befriends Jo Gul because he once saw her reading a romance novel that was the source material for one of his favorite movies. Likes to attend Yunjong’s DnD meetings because she’s also obsessed with fantasy. Overall a really big romance/fantasy fan.

Tang Soso befriended her after complimenting her outfit. She basically adopted a second introvert.

Her favorite music genres are girly hyper pop and metal. Her fashion sense is similar; she can’t choose between pastel girly vibes or going full goth. She ends up mixing the two.

Lee Xue (OC)

If her social battery isn’t low, she’ll go drinking with Tang Bo and Chung Myung. She’d also rather drink at her and Lee Xue’s place instead of drinking in public bc she doesn’t trust strangers.

A cat woman in every universe.

Not connected to the university at all. She dropped out of high school, but ended up becoming a bartender. She makes really good money because of her extroversion, charming personality, and pretty looks. (And her big personalities-)

Flirted with one of the rival university’s students for fun. (Lee Songbaek) She thought his shy personality was cute and didn’t plan on going any further, but ended up in a relationship with him.

Before Chung Mei moved in with her, she didn’t take care of herself. Her diet mostly consisted of fast food or microwave dinners. She knows how to make a good drink, but sucks at cooking.

Now that Chung Mei lives with her, she has a healthier diet with more home-cooked meals. Lee Xue tries to thank her by occasionally making dinner, but her sister never eats her food and she can’t figure out why! :( (her cooking is more deadly than Tang poisons and she is not aware of this)

Never stopped loving y2k fashion. Has always rocked low-rise jeans even when they were out of style, and likes it when they’re ripped.

The reason why Chung Mei is into metal. Was in a band during high school/her early 20s, but they broke up and everyone went their separate ways. Looks back on those days fondly.

Still proficient in most string instruments, but only plays for fun now.

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