#I plan for it to have either 2 to 4 chapters

[classyruinsbarbarian]

because I can here is a teaser for What's a Birthday Without Math?

"Rex earthling name, Rexagon hexagonian name, Kid Math superhero name, Becky Botsford earthling name, Wordgirl superhero name. 

Remember the difference, remember them all."

[ghostlightfic]

anyways i made some good headway on back to one chapter 8. we're getting there. however the demonic thing is that my scope keeps growing and god is not smiling upon me

[seventh-district]

several days and 15 thousand words later, i am relieved to report that the suffocating urge to Write Something has been sated and no longer has me in a chokehold

[copperbadge]

I'm getting depressingly good at identifying the formula for Pop Academic Books About ADHD.

Regardless of their philosophy it pretty much goes like this:

1. Emotionally sensitive essay about the struggle of ADHD and the author's personal experience with it as both a person with ADHD and a healthcare professional.

2. Either during or directly following this, a lightly explicated catalogue of symptoms, illustrated by anecdotes from patient case studies. Optional: frequent, heavy use of metaphor to explain ADHD-driven behavior.

3. Several chapters follow, each dedicated to a symptom; these have a mini-formula of their own. They open with a patient case study, discuss the highly relatable aspects of the specific symptom or behavior, then offer some lightweight examples of a treatment for the symptom, usually accompanied by follow up results from the earlier case studies.

4. Somewhere around halfway-to-two-thirds through the book, the author introduces the more in-depth explication of the treatment system (often their own homebrew) they are advocating. These are generally both personally-driven (as opposed to suggested cultural changes, which makes sense given these books' target audience, more on this later) and composed of an elaborate system of either behavior alteration or mental reframing. Whether this system is actually implementable by the average reader varies wildly.

5. A brief optional section on how to make use of ADHD as a tool (usually referring to ADHD or some of its symptoms as a superpower at least once). Sometimes this section restates the importance of using the systems from part 4 to harness that superpower. Frequently, if present, it feels like an afterthought.

6. Summation and list of further resources, often including other books which follow this formula.

I know I'm being a little sarcastic, but realistically there's nothing inherently wrong about the formula, like in itself it's not a red flag. It's just hilariously recognizable once you've noticed it.

It makes sense that these books advocate for the Reader With ADHD undertaking personal responsibility for their treatment, since these are in the tradition of self-help publishing. They're aimed at people who are already interested in doing their own research on their disability and possible ways to handle it. It's not really fair to ask them to be policy manuals, but I do find it interesting that even books which advocate stuff like volunteering (for whatever reason, usually to do with socialization issues and isolation, often DBT-adjacent) never suggest disability activism either generally or with an ADHD-specific bent.

None of these books suggest that perhaps life with ADHD could be made easier with increased accommodations or ease of medication access, and that it might be in a person's best interest to engage in political advocacy surrounding these and other disability-related issues. Or that activism related to ADHD might help to give someone with ADHD a stronger sense of ownership of their unique neurology. Or that if you have ADHD the idea of activism or even medical self-advocacy is crushingly stressful, and ways that stress might be dealt with.

It does make me want to write one of my own. "The Deviant Chaos Guide To Being A Miscreant With ADHD". Includes chapters on how to get an actual accurate assessment, tips for managing a prescription for a controlled substance, medical and psychiatric self-advocacy for people who are conditioned against confrontation, When To Lie About Being Neurodivergent, policy suggestions for ADHD-related legislation, tips for activism while executively dysfunked, and to close the book a biting satire of the pop media idea of self-care. ("Feeling sad? Make yourself a nice pot of chicken soup from scratch and you'll feel better in no time. Stay tuned after this rambling personal essay for the most mediocre chicken soup recipe you've ever seen!" "Have you considered planning and executing an overly elaborate criminal heist as a way to meet people and stay busy?")

Every case study or personal anecdote in the book will have a different name and demographics attached but will also make it obvious that they are all really just me, in the prose equivalent of a cheap wig, writing about my life. "Kelly, age seven, says she struggles to stay organized using the systems neurotypical children might find easy. I had to design my own accounting spreadsheet in order to make sure I always have enough in checking to cover the mortgage, she told me, fidgeting with the pop socket on her smartphone."

I feel a little bad making fun, because these books are often the best resource people can get (in itself concerning). It's like how despite my dislike of AA, I don't dunk on it in public because I don't want to offer people an excuse not to seek help. It feels like punching down to criticize these books, even though it's a swing at an industry that is mainly, it seems, here to profit from me. But one does get tired of skimming the hype for the real content only to find the real content isn't that useful either.

Les (not his real name) was diagnosed at the age of 236. Charming, well-read, and wealthy, he still spent much of his afterlife feeling deeply inadequate about his perceived shortcomings. "Vampire culture doesn't really acknowledge ADHD as a condition," he says. "My sire wouldn't understand, even though he probably has it as well. You should see the number of coffins containing the soil of his homeland that he's left lying forgotten all over Europe." A late diagnosis validated his feelings of difference, but on its own can't help when he hyperfocuses on seducing mortals who cross his path and forgets to get home before sunrise. "I have stock in sunburn gel companies," he jokes.

[izadi234]

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English. Yan! Batfamily x gn! reader

Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4(You're here)

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 4

The next day, Duke woke up early (and not just because he had training with Bruce and Dick), but the excitement of seeing you again after several days kept him awake all night.

Thank goodness it was the weekend which meant Duke could stay out a little later than usual, although to be honest he would have preferred to stay with you in your new "home" but two things stopped him: The first was that you still hadn't told him where you currently lived for the simple reason that you were still settling into your apartment and the second was because it wasn't in the plans he and Alfred had made.

Just a little longer and you'll be in your (cage) home again.

After his training with Bruce and Dick, Duke thanked them and quickly left to have breakfast and then get ready. Clearly, this attitude on the part of the young man didn't go unnoticed by his mentor or his older brother.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Dick asked Bruce

"No." The security guard shook his head. "Maybe he's going out to see someone. He looks excited."

"Maybe," Dick nodded.

At the dining table were the other family members, Jason and Damian. They both looked at Duke as if he had grown two heads taller just because he was devouring the food as if he hadn't eaten in 100 years.

"You know that the food isn't going to go away, right?" Jason chuckled.

"You should eat properly, Thomas," little Damian scolded.

"I'm sorry, guys!" he apologized as he stood up. "I have something to do and I'm in a bit of a hurry!"

He didn't allow the other vigilantes to ask who he was going to see because he had already left.

As he climbed the stairs, he almost ran into Tim, Cass, and Steph, who looked at him confused.

"Why the rush, Duke? The mansion is burning and we have to evacuate?" Steph joked

"Sorry guys! I'm going to see someone and I'm already late" he said before entering his room

"Oohh˜ Is it a secret girlfriend?" Steph asked the other two

"I don't think so. Duke never talks about girls" Tim said

"What if it's a boy?" Cass proposed

"I don't think so either. He would seem more nervous but he's more excited" she analyzed

Quickly Duke took a shower and changed his clothes. In a backpack he packed his laptop, chargers and wallet. You never know when he might use it and he could also ask you for help with some tasks he had some doubts about.

Once ready Duke went down and headed for the door when Bruce stopped him.

"Where are you going Duke?" the eldest Wayne asked curiously

Duke turned to look at him and with a smile said:

"I'm going out for a while"

"And with who if you don't mind me asking?" Bruce smiled thinking it was some young love

"With (Name)" Duke said as if it was the most normal thing

"(Name)? Wouldn't it be easier if you spent time here at the mansion?" Bruce suggested a little confused by the fact that both preferred to spend time outside the mansion instead of there.

"No, I don't think so, it would be a little complicated for (Name) to get here" the boy answered

"Getting here?" he asked confused "Duke, what are you up to..." he was cut off by the young man

"I'm sorry Bruce but I have to go! I'm running late" he said and then left him with the word in his mouth

Once Duke left, Bruce stared at the door with a frown.

Why would it be difficult for you to get to Wayne Manor when you lived there?

Unless...

"Alfred!" called the butler

The game began

"Yes Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as he approached to see what he needed but he already knew very well

Alfred who was watching Bruce and Duke's interaction from the shadows of the mansion, had a sly smile on his face that hid when his son called for him.

"What? What do you mean they don't live here anymore?" Bruce asked the butler

"That's right Master Bruce. I thought you had realized that" Alfred said quietly

"No! I don't..." he sighed heavily and sat down in his chair while hiding his face in his hands

"I've been very busy" Wayne excused himself which made Alfred frown

"Busy? Busy for 15 years? So busy that he didn't give them even 5 minutes of his attention but still spent time with the other young masters?" Alfred pointed out

Bruce's heart stopped for a moment at his words. He was right (as always). How could he forget for 15 years his eldest heir, his first blood kid? Yes, the night with your mother had been fleeting but, you weren't to blame for his actions. But he should have been there for you when you lost your parents, in fact, since before your birth he should have been there for you and your mother since she was pregnant.

But now he didn't regret it. He knows he screwed up, but now he could fix it. He could buy you anything you want, go to your competitions, watch movies with you or do anything you like but...

What do you like to do?

What are your hobbies?

What movies do you like?

But now that he thinks about it...

What grade are you in? Are you in high school or already in college?

And if you're already in college, did you miss your graduation? What are you studying?

And what about your age? Your friends?

Who are you?

"Alfred" he turned to look at the butler who just looked at him neutrally "Where are they?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer your question, Master Bruce. They didn't leave a clue as to where they were going" Alfred replied

"What?" he stood up from his chair

"That's right" he nodded

After a few minutes of silence Bruce spoke again.

"And where is their room?"

He doesn't even remember the room he assigned you

"Follow me, sir."

"This is it, sir." Alfred stopped in front of a white door with some (f/c) (favorite color) decorations painted on it.

Bruce approached and caressed the details of the door as if just touching them would give him the power to know you better despite the years.

The eldest Wayne opened the door to your room only to find an empty room, a bed with the sheets and blankets folded on top of it and the walls in your favorite color.

"I don't remember when they painted their room," Bruce said as he looked around.

"They changed the color a couple of times. The last time they painted their room was when Master Duke arrived. He offered them his help after they helped him settle in better at the Manor," Alfred explained as he also looked at the room, not with curiosity like Bruce did but with longing and melancholy.

Bruce looked around the empty room and despite being the best detective in the world he couldn't find any clues as to who you really were or where you might have gone.

"Tsk... There's nothing here..." he muttered to himself

"Maybe... You should ask the other young masters and mistresses" Alfred suggested

"Maybe they saw you on your last day"

"Yeah..." Bruce snapped out of his thoughts "Maybe they know something"

After that, he left your empty room leaving the old butler alone. Alfred looked around the room one last time before leaving and closing the door.

Don't worry (Name), soon you'll have a better room than the last one.

While chaos was beginning to spread at the Wayne residence, you were waiting for Duke in the park in downtown Gotham just as you had agreed on the phone.

You were checking your phone while sitting on a bench. You were tired of waiting for your brother, but you would wait for him as long as necessary. You also understood that Wayne Manor was not that close to the center since it was somewhat (very) far from the rest of the city and if you were honest, from afar the mansion seemed somewhat haunted and when you were little you couldn't help but think it was Dracula's mansion. And those same thoughts made you feel terrified of living in that place, especially when it rained. You always went to Alfred for protection and the kind butler always assured you that there was nothing to fear and that Dracula was not real. Clearly, the mind of your 4-year-old self didn't think the same, and your idea didn't change when you discovered that your family were all security guards who only worked at night and that their symbols were bats (although some also had birds on their suits).

You smiled at that memory from your childhood, maybe not so pleasant at the time but now, at 19 years old, it made you laugh.

"Hey (Name)!" a voice made you come out of your daydream

When you turned to see who it was, you saw Duke running towards you with a big smile on his lips. You quickly got up from the bench you were sitting on and before you could take two steps, Duke had already reached where you were and hugged you.

You laughed at his somewhat childish attitude but you hugged him gladly anyway.

"It seems like you missed me" you joked still hugging him

"Of course I did" he turned to look at you "You are sorely missed at the mansion"

That's not true...

You wanted to contradict what he had said but to be honest you didn't want to fight with Duke and much less talk about the mansion and its inhabitants.

"Well well" you giggled "Where do you want to go? There are a couple of cafes around here if you want to go get something to drink and if you want we can go to the arcade to play some video games afterwards"

Even though Duke felt a little disappointed that you broke the hug between the two of you his eyes lit up when you mentioned the arcade.

"Sure! Let's go!" he said excitedly

"Okay, let's go" you smiled at him and then started walking towards a cafe you frequented

When you got to the cafe you both stood in line to order. When it was finally your turn you smiled at the barista and greeted him.

"Hey Mark" you greeted the boy

"Oh hey (Name)!" the boy greeted you back with a smile in kind "How are you? How's the race going?"

"Fine fine, a little too tiring" you chuckled "But I'm enjoying it"

"I'm glad to hear that" the boy smiled at you "Are you going to want the usual?"

"Yes please and you Duke?" you turned to see your brother who had just been staring at the boy and without you realizing it he was giving him a look that could kill anyone

Who was that boy?

A partner, friend, a crush? Or even worse...

A secret boyfriend?

Duke knew better than anyone that you were extremely good at keeping secrets so he wouldn't doubt that you had a partner and didn't tell anyone.

Damn... This made his plan more urgent...

Your voice brought Duke back to reality and his smile returned to his face.

"Oh yeah, I'd like a hot chocolate please."

"Okay," the young man nodded.

You paid for both drinks and waited a few minutes for your drinks to be prepared. Once you had your drinks, you sat down at a small table near the cafe window.

"So... how do you know that guy?" Duke asked you

"Well, I usually frequent this cafe, and he's usually here when I come so he already knows me a little" you giggled

"I see..." Duke said and then smiled "So tell me, how did college go for you?"

You were studying journalism, inspired by your father or rather stepfather, (F/N). And even though many people you knew tried to change your mind about it, you always remained sure of your decision. You were in your third semester, since the first 2 semesters you took online and to be honest, it was a little harder but much more fun and interesting.

"I'm doing great!" You said with a big smile "I've met so many interesting and nice people and the face-to-face classes are a little more difficult but I feel like I'm learning. One of my teachers is assigning us tutors who are high-level journalists and although I'm still waiting to see who is assigned to me as a tutor I just hope it's good"

"That sounds great!" Duke smiled

Even though he looked happy on the outside, he was actually frustrated on the inside.

Were you really that happy away from the mansion?

Away from them?

Away from him?

No, it can't be... That's impossible

He had missed you from the first second he found out you were gone!

Had you stopped loving him?

Is that why you don't tell him where you're living?

He was wondering all that but when he looked into your eyes he calmed down.

No, that wasn't possible

You are someone so sweet and kind, you would never forget him

If you did, why would you be there with him?

But even so, he wasn't going to take the risk, even though he enjoyed seeing you happy...

YOU NEED TO GO BACK HOME

Hellooo! Here's the next chapter! I hope you all like It and enjoy it! Sorry for taking a bit to publish this but I've been kind of busy, still I hope I publish the next chapter sooner. Also, I've been tagging everyone in the TAG LIST so tell me if you want me to add you!

Anyway, if you liked it I would appreciate if you leave a heart and I'm Also interested to heart if you have any ideas or opinions about the story.

See you in the next one!

-Izadi <3

TAG LIST

@eyeless-kun @profounddestinyrebel @holyfishbailiffpeanut @toast-on-dandelioms @dhanyasri @kiarst @phoenixgurl030 @wpdarlingpan @glitterisname @sackofsadstuff @riddle-me-im-sirius @sirenetheblogger @bat1212 @bluelock4life @revysplacexxx @skz-goose @mistfire1999 @vanessa-boo @tatsuri-zomushiki @kore-of-the-underworld @milliu @lee-bits @ch1cky-093 @leiiasurez @bluemidnightmelodies @lilyalone @plsfckmedxddy @lovebug-apple @jisnothere @akanegotlost @stormz369 @sugarpiehoe @mddbsf @shhhhhhhhhhtellnobody @i-adorehannah @darktrashpoetry @fantasyhopperhea @d3sperate-enuf @expctron @horror-lover-69 @caffeinatedhearts12 @niggrroo

[navybrat817]

Deep in the Woods: Part 3

Pairing: Soft!Dark Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: A relaxing getaway in the woods may become your permanent home when you catch the eye of a lumberjack.

Part 2 | Series Masterlist | Part 4

Chapter Summary: Tension is thick with you and Bucky as you two have lunch together.

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.2k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, bits of MCU canon, grumpy x sunshine trope, invasive behavior, bits of insecurity, sexual tension, kissing, reader ignores red flags like she's colorblind, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: Next part of our lumberjack is here! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Since Bucky already unpacked the food, you helped set everything on a couple of plates. He said he was starving, and you didn't want to keep him waiting. You also didn’t know what kind of plans he had for the rest of the day. He could eat what you brought and send you on your way if he wished.

“This really does look delicious,” he commented, helping you carry everything to the dining room. “Especially the cookies.”

“I hope you like them,” you smiled, setting your plate on one end of the table. “Oh, thanks,” you added when he pulled the chair out for you.

“Did your ex not pull your chair out for you?” he asked, a hint of bitterness coming out when he said “ex”, but you may have been projecting.

You also swore you felt his fingers brush your shoulders when you sat down, but the touch faded immediately. “Why do you ask?”

“You just seem surprised that I did that,” he replied, taking his own seat across the table.

“Oh. Well. He did it from time to time,” you said. Some considered it to be an outdated gesture, but you always thought it was sweet. Your ex did it at the beginning of the relationship, but that quickly faded. That should’ve been a sign that it wasn’t meant to last. No one should ever stop trying or caring in a relationship. “It’s nice that you do that.”

“Time to time. What kind of boyfriend is that?” he muttered like he hadn't heard the last thing you said, taking a large bite of his food. “A lot of men today don’t know how to treat a woman. Bet he never took you dancing or dressed up for you either.”

Your eyebrows shot up. The bitterness surprised you, but it didn’t upset you. There was no reason to defend your ex, and Bucky came from a different time. You were sure he treated women well and they likely felt lucky to date him.

“No, he didn’t really dress up for me or take me out dancing,” you confirmed. The more you thought about it, the more you wondered why you settled. Was it what you thought you deserved? “Which is fine since he wasn't really a good dancer.”

“I'm a good dancer,” he blurted out before he cleared his throat. “At least, I used to be.”

“I’ll bet you still are,” you smiled softly. He didn't quite smile back, but there was a tug in the corner of his mouth. It did break your heart a little to wonder when he last danced with someone he cared about. To be fair, you knew nothing about his dating history. It could’ve been years ago or recent. “Though most dancing today is just…”

“Grinding,” he finished for you, licking a bit of the food from his lips.

You swallowed your bite hard, proud of yourself for not choking. Picturing Bucky grinding wasn’t the best thing to do while eating. “Wow, did you make this table?” you asked. A change of topic was good, and if he caught on he didn’t call you out on it. Plus he mentioned that he made some of his own furniture. That was a safe and natural topic to discuss.

“I did,” he answered, running a hand along the table top. “One of the first things I made.”

“It’s gorgeous,” you smiled. He really had a talent, and he could probably sell furniture if he really wanted to.

“Thanks,” he smiled gently. “Not just for the compliment, but coming over. It's…” He tapped a finger on the table. “It’s really nice having company.”

You glanced around. There was a bench on both sides of the table instead of chairs, and it was easy for you to imagine his friends and members of the Avengers gathered around for a nice meal. But how often did that happen?

“I’m not much company,” you said before remembering he didn’t like you self-depracting. “But thanks for inviting me over. That was nice of you to do that.”

He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes locked deeply with yours. What was it about his stare that made you want to duck your head? Was it because he seemed to look right through you? “I think you’re great company,” he said, bringing a small smile to your face. “In fact, I think you should stay here with me.”

You blinked a few times. “I should… stay? You want me to stay here?” you asked. Exactly how long did he want you to stay?

“Yeah, after lunch. We can hang out for a bit longer and talk. Maybe play a game,” he suggested, finishing the food on his plate before he grabbed a cookie. “Unless you have somewhere else to be or have other plans?”

“I don’t really have anywhere to be,” you said. It wasn't like you had any plans either. Any excuse you came up with would've sounded lame if you tried. Spending more time there before you went back to your cabin wouldn't be so bad. “What games do you have?”

Bucky didn't answer since he bit into the cookie. With a groan he watched you watching him as he devoured the treat, making sure to eat up every single morsel. He licked his fingers and lips clean once he finished and you had to press your legs together, which did nothing to relieve the sudden heat there.

If that was how he ate a cookie, how did he eat… No, it wasn't good to let your mind wander.

“Y-You like them?” you asked, your voice breathier than normal.

“Like them? Do you have any idea how delicious your cookies are?” he rasped, the muscles rippling in his right arm as he helped himself to another. “So fucking sweet. Could just eat you up.”

The wave of heat flowed up to your neck. “I’m sorry?” you asked.

“Could just eat them up,” he replied.

“Oh, right.” Of course, he was talking about the cookies, and you hadn't heard him correctly.

“I went years without dessert,” he said almost more to himself than you, but he continued to stare when he finished his second. “Didn’t realize how much I missed it until I didn’t have it.”

Your heart went out to him. If you ever wanted a treat, you had the privilege to buy one or get the ingredients to make them yourself. He didn’t have either option and that wasn’t by choice. What he had to endure, at least the information you were privy to, you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy.

“You’re more than welcome to eat the entire plate if you’d like,” you offered, chewing your lip as you thought more about it. “And, you know, if there’s something you’d really like or if you have a favorite treat or dessert, maybe I can bake it for you?”

“You’d do that?” He looked touched before his cheek twitched. “Even after I was an ass to you and you already made lunch for me once?”

“Well, you weren’t a complete ass to me and this lunch was for both of us,” you teased a little. “And I really don’t mind. I like to cook and bake.”

“Yet you do data entry,” he deadpanned.

You shrugged. “Data entry is a job that helps me pay my bills, and that’s why I do it. Nothing more.”

“So, you wouldn’t miss it if you ever had the chance to quit?” he asked curiously.

“I mean, I might miss it if I don’t have something else lined up, but it isn’t exactly a dream job. I don’t know if I actually have a dream job, but I could never be a professional baker or cook because those are things I love to do, and I want to keep enjoying them without pressure added to them,” you said. You respected people who went for their dreams, but you felt like doing those hobbies as a job would somehow taint them for yourself. Doing them for fun and spoiling those close to you made you happier.

“That makes sense. You want to keep the purity of it,” he said. You had to agree with that. “You know, I did offer to let you use my kitchen while you’re in the area. Maybe you can bake for me here or we can bake something together.”

Lunch and meeting his cat. Playing games. Baking together. Bucky must’ve been desperate for the company if he wanted you to hang out with him. What other explanation was there? “That would be nice,” you smiled. Using his kitchen would be amazing.

“But we can figure out what to make together later. You asked about games.” He licked his fingers again with a hum and you almost looked away. “I have a deck of cards, or I have stuff like checkers, chess, or Scrabble.”

Plenty of games for two. “I’m fine with…” you stopped talking when fur brushed against your leg, making you giggle. “Hey, Alpine.”

Bucky smiled softly. “Al, let her be.”

“Oh, she’s fine,” you smiled, reaching down to pet her. She was a sweet cat. “Is she strictly an indoor cat or does she ever go on walks or anything with you?”

“I carry her or put her in my coat if we venture away from the house. Not because I think she’ll run off, but because of some of the other animals in the woods. I don't want her to get hurt or worse.”

“That makes sense.” Your heart ached at the thought of something taking Alpine away, but it warmed at the image of the burly man carrying her around in his coat. “You said you came out to the woods with her. Did it take her a bit to get used to the place?”

He nodded. “It was a little bit of an adjustment, but she loved it once she got used to it,” he said, resting back in his chair and observing you as you ate. “I don't think she’d ever want to go back to the city since she loves this place so much. She has everything she needs here.”

Something flickered in his eyes and you weren't sure why his tone sounded strange. It was almost as if he was trying to convince you and himself that she loved it there. “Well, as long as she’s happy and you're happy and the place feels like home, that’s what matters, right?”

“Right,” he whispered.

“Though I imagine it must get a little lonely since you're so far from the city,” you commented, wishing you hadn't said so. He wanted to get away after the rough mission he experienced and didn’t need you commenting on his possible loneliness.

“It can be,” he said, leaning his arms on the table and gazing at you. “But it isn’t so lonely right now.”

“No, it isn’t,” you said, the conversation you had with Kenna popping up in your mind. Maybe he was lonely and you were, too, and he was still shirtless and he could make you forget that loneliness for a short while and help with your sexual frustration and… something was stopping you from going there. “I guess it's too bad I won't be around after a couple of weeks,” you smiled sadly.

Bucky frowned and abruptly stood up from his chair. “I’m getting another drink,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble. “You want one?”

You frowned a little, too, when you saw his eye twitch. Did your comment somehow upset him? “Sure, thanks,” you replied, watching him grab both glasses and walk out with heavy steps.

You sighed once he was out of sight. For a second you wanted to believe that Bucky was giving you an opening, but you didn’t take it. But what if you hit on him in return and flirting with you wasn’t his intention at all? How awkward would that be if he turned you down or told you to leave? You’d have to hide out in your cabin for the rest of your trip.

If Kenna were there she’d tell you to get out of your head.

Alpine brought your attention to her with a small purr, brushing against your leg again. “You really like it out here, huh?” you asked, giving her another pet. “I can see why. It’s beautiful, peaceful. Don't have to worry about noisy neighbors and traffic and crowds.” You paused and giggled. “But I guess you never had to worry about traffic and crowds. Only Bucky did.”

“Not anymore.”

You jolted when Bucky set your drink down. You hadn’t heard him come back in. At least he wasn't frowning anymore. “Sorry. I was just-”

“It’s fine. I talk to her, too,” he said, nodding to your plate. “You haven't finished your food.”

“Oh, I think I was just caught up in our conversation,” you said, going back to eating.

Instead of taking his seat at the head of the table he took a seat on the bench to your left. Alpine hopped in his lap and he rubbed her head, but he kept his eyes on you. “The bowl of stew you had yesterday was a small helping, too. Do you not eat enough?”

You coughed when you took your next bite and his hand went to your back since he was close enough. His hand was huge. Warm. Why were you thinking about that? “I eat plenty,” you defended yourself after you took a drink. He didn't remove his hand. “Three meals a day and snacks in between.”

“Sorry. That was rude of me to ask that way,” he said, slowly pulling his hand away. “Just making sure you're taken care of since you’re out here all by yourself.”

“It's okay.” The question surprised you, but you weren't at all angry or put off. It was actually kind of sweet that your well-being mattered. “But you don’t have to worry about me. Unless it involves chopping firewood, I can take care of myself.”

He raised an eyebrow like he didn’t quite believe you. “I know all about taking care of myself, but it’s tough some days having to go it alone,” he said, watching meticulously as you worked on finishing up your plate. “You shouldn't have to.”

Your well-being wasn't Bucky’s responsibility as flattering as it was that he cared. But the fact that a virtual stranger cared more about your safety or if you ate enough more than some who knew you for ages hurt. It shouldn’t matter, but it did. And once your getaway was over, you’d be back in the city and back to your routine and Bucky would be back to his routine, too.

“It is tough some days,” you agreed. That was why you wanted to have a good and caring partner to lean on so you could ask for help if and when you needed it. What you got instead was a cheater, but you were better off. “You shouldn't have to go it alone either. No one should,” you said, deflecting a bit so you didn’t focus on your thoughts and feelings.

Bucky sitting so close and watching you made it hard to think properly. Taking your next breath didn't feel natural either. The short time you spent together hadn't accustomed you to his lingering stares or being the center of his attention. It was a lot. Not bad, just a lot.

He hummed once you ate your last bite and took your plate for you. “We can play in the den.”

“You have a den, too?”

“Yeah. I almost thought the place was too big for me, but I like the space. Also has perfect lighting when I read,” he said.

“That’s really nice,” you smiled. It was also the perfect amount since he eventually wanted to have a family. “My apartment has this little nook where I curl up with a pillow and blanket when I read.”

“A reading nook,” he said, glancing behind him. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Everyone should be comfortable while they’re reading,” you said, Alpine hot on your tail as Bucky led you to the den.

It wasn’t as large as the living room, but still spacious and it had the perfect small table for you two to sit and play a game. “How do you feel about Scrabble?” he asked.

“I’m semi-confident in my skills,” you said, tucking your legs beneath you when you sat down. “Do Sam and Steve like to play games?”

“They don’t mind them, but these games have been sitting here collecting dust,” he replied, bringing the game out. “Now I finally have a partner to play with.”

Your brows furrowed. You assumed one of his friends would play a game with him if they stopped by, but maybe they did other activities. “Well, I hope I’m a worthy opponent.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m pretty good myself,” he said without a hint of bragging. “Winner picks the next game,” he added, more like a statement than a suggestion.

“Oh,” you said. He assumed you were staying for more than one game. You couldn’t exactly blame him since you confirmed you had no plans. “Yeah, okay. Winner picks the next game.”

He smiled triumphantly. “You’re not a sore loser, are you?”

“No,” you giggled, helping him set up the board. His fingers brushed yours when he handed you the letter pieces, tingles shooting down your spine. It was sad how starved you felt for some affection, and it felt selfish to indulge. But was it selfish when he was single and so were you? “Are you?”

“I try not to be,” he said, taking a seat to your left again instead of across from you. “Either way it’s a win though.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“Because even if I don’t win this game, we’re still going to play another and there’s a chance I’ll win that.”

You tried not to smile. “That’s a good way to look at it.”

“I imagine that’s how you look at things,” he said, tilting his head. “A little bit brighter than most.”

You froze. Kenna said something similar yesterday. “I’m sorry, what did you say you did after you left yesterday?” you asked curiously.

“Spent most of the day and evening inside. It was uneventful. Why?”

“No reason,” you smiled. There was no way he was by your cabin after he left yesterday. No possible way. It was silly to even think that for a moment.

“You asked for a reason,” he said. “Why?”

“Well, I was chatting with a friend just outside of the cabin yesterday and I thought-”

“You thought what? That I was hanging around and eavesdropping?” he asked, your eyes rounding at the bite in his tone. It was reminiscent of when he discovered you attempting to chop firewood.

“No!” Why had you opened your mouth? “I just heard a couple of noises like branches snapping, but it was probably an animal or something. I don’t really know the surroundings here.”

He nodded after a moment. “There are animals in the woods, so it’s good to be on guard if you’re sitting outside. One of the reasons I have a security system is so I can see all angles outside of the place,” he said, his shoulders relaxing. “Sorry if I sounded upset. I just…” His jaw clenched. “I thought this was going well, but you’re scared of me just like everyone else.”

Your face fell and his apology didn’t make the guilt you felt go away. If anything, you felt worse. Things were going well, and you blew it. “No, I’m sorry, and I’m not scared of you, Bucky.”

“You’re not?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“I’m not,” you answered. You had no reason to be scared. If he wanted to hurt you or do anything else, he would’ve done so already. “But if you want me to go-”

He grabbed your wrist before you could move. “Stay,” he whispered, sliding his hand down to grip yours. It was a strong grip, but it didn’t hurt.

“You want me to stay?” you asked. A gorgeous hero wanted to spend time with you. He really was as desperate for your company as you were for his. But it had to be because you were the only person nearby, right?

“Yeah.” He nodded to the table. “I mean, we already went through the trouble of setting up the game,” he said, his voice lighter.

You smiled a little. It was a good sign that he wasn’t kicking you out. “You did,” you agreed, not pulling your hand away. It felt nice.

“And maybe the overall winner can pick dinner instead of another game. Could be something simple. I have plenty of stuff here to make.”

“Dinner? Wait, I’m staying for dinner?” you asked, confused. He hadn’t mentioned anything about dinner tonight. “I thought I was heading back to the cabin after a couple of games.”

“Why would you do that? I thought we were having fun,” he said, tilting his head. “What, you’d rather eat alone?”

“Oh, I am having fun, and I don’t want to eat alone.” It has been a fun afternoon so far. It continued to surprise you that he wanted you around. “You sure you don’t mind? It’ll be dark after dinner, and I wouldn’t want you-”

“I don’t mind walking you back if it’s dark. I’d prefer that, actually.”

“Okay,” you smiled. Dinner would be nice. “And I want you to remember what you said earlier because when I win so you can’t act grumpy.”

“You think I'm grumpy?” he teased, complete with a grumpy stare.

“From the short time I’ve known you, you do give off grumpy vibes,” you teased back, the tension fading away.

“I’m an old man. I think I’ve earned my right to be grumpy,” he said, carefully looking over his letters.

“Well, you don’t look like an old man,” you said. Not with the way he was built. “You look really good,” you added, feeling the need to do so.

His thumb moved along your hand and you weren’t sure if he was doing it intentionally or not. “Glad you like what you see,” he said in a low voice, his eyes flickering to yours.

Before you could concentrate on the heat spreading in your body, he went back to the letters and carefully placed his tiles on the board. The room remained silent when he set the last tile down and you tried not to react when you read the word. It was almost impossible not to, especially with how he kept rubbing his thumb along your hand.

QUIVER

“Quiver.” You swallowed a little. “So, that’s 18 points. I guess I have my work cut out for me, huh?”

Your eyes stayed on the board when he moved a little closer, feeling the warmth that rolled off his body. He wasn’t lying when he said he ran warm. “I guess so,” he murmured.

Clearing your throat, you tried to concentrate on choosing a decent word. You couldn’t think of anything spectacular, and you were blaming that on Bucky since he was so close. You felt his eyes on you, too, and you dared to sneak another glance at him. He looked like he was two seconds away from devouring you. And you wanted him to.

“Fuck it,” you whispered, leaning in and pressing your lips against his.

It wasn’t a passionate kiss or anything over the top. Just a soft, chaste kiss to test the waters, to break the tension that you were certain at this point both of you felt. He didn’t kiss you back since you pulled away before he could, but he leaned forward like he was chasing your lips. And he refused to let you look away when he opened his eyes, cupping your cheek and silently demanding that you stare back at him.

If he looked like he wanted to devour you before…

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart racing when he brought his metal hand to your face, too.

“I’m not,” he whispered back, slowly leaning in.

A flash of lightning nearby illuminated the woods outside the window followed by a roll of thunder that made you jump back before he could kiss you, your heart racing again as the sudden sound of raindrops followed. “It’s raining?” you asked. You didn’t know it was going to storm today.

“Yeah,” he said. He didn’t seem to care at all since he was too busy staring at your mouth. “Supposed to rain through the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening, so it’s a good thing you’re here with me.”

“Oh. Yeah,” you said. There was no way you’d make it back to the cabin without getting caught in the storm, but that was the last thing on your mind when his thumb moved over your lips.

“What’s wrong? Were you scared I’d kick you out? Make you get all wet?” he rumbled, your breath hitching when he slid one hand to the back of your neck. “You don’t need to go outside to get wet for me.”

“Bucky,” you gasped.

His lips skimmed yours before he pulled away. “But why don’t we try to finish our game?” he suggested, your mouth falling open. “We’ll see who breaks first.”

Moving fast! Our poor girl. To be fair, this was meant to be a romantic vacation for her, and I'd ignore the red flags if a shirtless Bucky was paying attention to me. So, which one is going to break first? What do we think will happen next? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 8: Sometimes, I wish Someone Out There Will Find Me

MasterlistChapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 (Here!) / Chapter 9 /

Detention was actually the worst that could happen.

Being in detention is a form of punishment where a student is required to stay after school, during lunchtime, or recess period to complete extra work or assignments. Sometimes, even doing cleaning work around the classroom under the supervision of a teacher.

She would have preferred doing the cleaning over this.

Mr. Munroe decided the best form of detention for running around the halls and causing a ruckus (she found it stupid that it was against the rules to run in the halls. How was she supposed to know that? She had never gone to school before) was for the three of them to sit in silence in his classroom until extracurricular club activities were over.

Thankfully, Bobby didn’t have official practice that afternoon; his only plans were to practice with her in the field by themselves. But the detention would go to his track record, which wasn’t a good thing.

Goldilocks, now named Warren Worthington III (what a posh name-), almost gave a hissy fit over the punishment because he had practice with the debate team. Mr. Munroe quickly stopped his complaining under the threat of extending his detention.

And now, all three of them sat at different desks. The silence was interrupted every few moments by the loud snores of Mr. Munroe, who slept in his chair with his legs over the desk and arms crossed.

They had already tried a few times to sneak off, thinking the teacher was a heavy sleeper and wouldn’t notice it.

They got proven wrong. 

Six times.

And that was enough humiliation for the rest of the day.

“Ughhhhh,” she groaned from her desk at the front right corner, just in front of the teacher’s desk. He had sat her there after making the mistake of putting her near the door on her second escape attempt.

Her feet shuffled against the floor, making the sole of her shoes squeak from the friction as her fingers refused to remain still. Cracking knuckles, tapping, tracing shapes, rattling the desk, amongst other things.

It was hell. She needed to move-

“Stop. Moving.” Warren hissed, three desks behind her. Sitting on the second line of desks, while Bobby sat on the third line, on the second desk.

She glared at him over her shoulder, mouthing ‘make me’, her right knee bouncing and accidentally hitting underneath the desk.

A sharp snore from Mr. Munroe’s desk was warning enough to keep them quiet for a few minutes.

“Can’t believe you dragged me into this-”

The girl groaned, throwing her head back. “Do you only complain?!”

Warren huffed, nose scrunched in offense, with his arms crossed. “I wouldn’t complain if I weren’t here because of you-”

“I already said I was sorry!” She turned half of her body in Warren’s direction, catching Bobby’s attention from his improvised desk drawing session.

The blonde boy gave her a harsh glare, jaw twitching, and eyebrows furrowed. He had been like this for the past hour and a half. Chiding and arguing to the air, and getting on her nerves. It had been by a pure miracle that Mr. Munroe hadn’t gotten up from his nap and done something about the wailing boy.

Or maybe he was tuning them out, not caring as long as they didn’t get in a physical fight.

Either way, Warren had made it his personal goal to make guilt eat her alive.

She already felt bad enough for getting Bobby into trouble, even after he had told her it was all alright. Said he preferred this over playing catch by himself in the field, which only made her feel even worse. 

And she had also apologized to Warren as well, knowing he was also dragged into this without fault (then again, he was the one who gave away their position to Richard by yelling in the halls-), but that only seemed to aggravate his attitude towards her.

Whatever he was angry about was more than just the detention.

The only positive outcome of this whole situation was the fact that Richard got a chew out from none other than the grumpy teacher who got all of them in here in the first place. Bobby had to pinch her so she would stop snickering under her breath and at least pretend not to look so smug at Richard getting his ass handed to him by a man shorter than him.

All because he wasn’t an official guardian and was getting onto the school grounds without proper permission. 

The universe worked in mysterious ways, truly.

“What’s your goal here, man?” Bobby drawled out, genuinely curious. Warren scoffed, disbelief in his face as he put his attention on the other boy. “She has already said sorry. There’s nothing else she can do.”

“What she can do is take responsibility and admit she can’t keep her word when it comes to deals.” He claimed, which made her sputter in offense.

“What deal are you even talking about?-”

“So now you have amnesia out of the sudden?” He probed with sarcasm. “What else? Hit your head and forgot how to answer texts as well?”

The dead silence for a few moments made both boys look directly at her, expecting another quick quip from her. Instead, they got a squittish, almost stressed expression on her face. Eyes wide and unblinking. Lips inward and posture shirking on her seat.

“...Oh, you’re fucking joking-”

She interrupted Warren, “For the record, I did hit my head, and lost my phone, and everything is a bit muddled-”

“Oh my fucking God-” Warren groaned out, hands going down his paleing face.

“But, I got a new phone out of it! So, it’s not that bad-”

“Actually,” Bobby was the one to interrupt this time. “It is bad. And the bar is in hell if you think getting a new phone is the best outcome of this whole situation.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Warren snapped out of his internal crisis to give her a pointed look. “I have the feeling that you did mean it-”

“Same here.”

“Oh, fuck both of you-”

A loud ringtone made them shut up and turn towards the now-waking teacher. He grumbled under his breath, taking his legs off the table, and rummaging through his bag to pick up his phone. With a narrowed glare at the call ID, he got up from his chair with a grunt and walked towards the door.

Not before addressing the teens, who followed his every move.

“I’m right in the hall, so no daring escapes, Wayne.” pointing at her with his finger as he stepped out and closed the door. The girl waited a bit before mocking him with exaggerated facial expressions.

Bobby chuckled while Warren shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching before thinning out.

That was enough for her to get up and sit in the chair at the desk right in front of a puzzled Warren. Bobby didn’t hesitate and sat on the desk beside the blonde, giving him a grin and a shrug in response to his wide stare.

“Alright, let’s clear up some things.” She assented. “Because I would rather not talk about how messy things are at home, and I would prefer not to have any issues with anyone at the only place where I can stay away from them.”

Warren’s gaze shifted to something she couldn’t place. Mostly, because saying that it softened wouldn’t be accurate enough for someone like Warren, who has been showing annoyance and anger from the very first impression.

With a short nod, that shift in his eyes was gone, intrigue now written in them.

“Fine, but we still got a deal.”

Bobby frowned, nose twitching as he leaned forward on his seat. “What is this whole deal thing? Can’t be that serious… Unless it’s about money-”

Warren cut him off with a deadpan tone. “It’s not money. We both have plenty of that, even if Wayne here doesn’t dress like so.”

“Rude.” She muttered with a pout. But Warren continued.

“Our deal was an agreement.” He clarified. “Wayne here, needed a companion for her musical piece at the school’s recital. She needed someone to play the violin while she played the piano. We've been practicing for weeks nonstop until last week.”

And last week, the real Wayne died from drowning, and someone else took hold of her body. 

‘Fuck my luck, seriously.’

“And now,” Warren sighed. “Not only am I finding out the true reason why you didn’t answer my texts, but that you have also done a complete one-eighty in personality.”

“I haven’t changed that much,” she frowned. She was pretty sure she and Wayne weren’t that different.

Both boys gave her dumbfounded looks, especially Warren, who for the first time laughed in a mockless manner.

“Actively avoiding your so beloved older brother and preferring school over spending time with your family? Yes, you have changed that much.” Warren chuckled under his breath. “And that’s without mentioning your attitude and charming manners.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t just insult my wonderful manners.”

“But he’s right,” Bobby butted in, shaking his head. “Not the insult thing, of course. But you have changed. I had never seen you be so…”

Warren took it from there. “So outgoing. So loud. So chatty.”

While Bobby argued about why he was making it sound like it was a bad thing, the young girl began to delve into her own thoughts. Was she really that outspoken? She hadn’t thought about it. After all, she was pretty much relying on what information Wayne could give her. And all of that was surrounding the family. On how she can’t trust them. How much hurt they have caused. How lonely and painful it had been for Wayne to live in that house.

Nothing much about who she was. 

Who she truly was.

Her likes. Her dislikes. Her quirks. Anything that made her her own person.

It was a sad realization. But it also made her feel relieved. Relieved that she was different from her, that someone had noticed. That she didn’t have expectations, at least from these two, of how she should act or pretend.

And not saying she wasn’t doing that with the Waynes. But most of her behavior was influenced by what Wayne had shown her. Always on guard and needing to be defensive over anything and everything because it’s what Wayne needed from her. What she deserved because she was no longer able to speak for herself.

And she would do it ten times over. But that didn’t stop it from being tiring and so so lonely.

“Hey, you alright?” Bobby’s cold hand softly shook her shoulder, making her lift her gaze towards the now concerned boys.

Before she could say anything, the feeling of wetness going down her left cheek made her go still. She quickly wiped it away, rubbing the side of her nose while clearing her throat. Trying to disimulate.

“I’m fine. Must be the dust in the room.” She said roughly, knee bouncing.

Warren began to prattle, an awkward and anxious expression as his ears reddened. “I didn’t mean to- I mean, I didn’t expect to make you cry. Don’t listen to shit of what I said- I didn’t-”

It was funny to see how much of a mess he became over some tears, it made her chuckle. Which quickly put a stop to Warren’s yammering and gained a deep relived sigh from Bobby.

“It’s fine, just realized something.” She clarified, making sure her face was dry with the sleeve of her uniform.

The boys exchanged glances, deciding to leave it there for now. If she wanted to say it or talk about it, it would be better if she made the first step.

And she was glad for that.

“You said it was a deal,” her tone mild, changing the subject quickly to avoid any deep talks or emotions. “ What’s your side of it? That’s why you agreed to it, right?”

Now it was Warren’s turn to look like a deer in headlights once again. He cleared his throat, avoiding looking at Bobby, who was looking quite eager to hear his part of the deal. Part of Warren wanted to kick his chair so he would fall off and stop staring at him, but he held it back.

“Yeah. I helped you out with your recital, and then you would help me out with being my plus one to my father’s gala.”

As Bobby choked on his spit and Warren tackled him with a red face while screaming, she stared at an empty corner with a blank expression.

Suddenly, exorcising a spirit wasn’t sounding so bad.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

“I’m not joking, Barb! A man like that couldn’t possibly be a teacher!”

The woman held back her laugh, nodding with a hum as she scrolled down her phone. Both of them were sitting inside Dick’s car. He switched his sports car to another simple model when he decided to bring Barbara to the academy as emotional support for when it was time to pick up his sister from detention.

A detention he found completely unjustified.

Barba thought he was being melodramatic, but Dick was standing tall on his perception and couldn’t be moved from it.

He swore those boys were the ones to be blamed.

It made sense! His defenseless little sister had no way of standing against those brats. They were taller. Bigger. Malicious teenagers, looking to take advantage of her timid, empathetic, and good nature.

That was why she was acting like that: defensive, prickly, and distant. It was an act of avoidance so she wouldn’t bother the family. Distanced herself from them, from him, just so she could shoulder such a heavy burden by herself. 

His sweet, poor sister, how alone did she think she was to turn to such a thing?

How could he even handle the fact that he had been ignoring the signs for so long? She had tried to reach out multiple times. A simple hello. Asking about his day. Texting him invitations to recitals.

It was like getting dumped in a tub of ice-cold water the moment he scrolled down their Messenger chat.

‘Hope everything is alright at work. Remember to take some time to rest!’ ‘Hey, Alfred told me you were dropping by. Do you think we can go to the movies together?’ ‘Heard you got a recognition at work today, congrats!’ ‘I've got a recital by the end of the month. I hope you can come for just a little bit.'

A bullet to the head would have hurt less than the realization of how bad he fucked up.

Not a single reply. Not a single one from his side of the chat room.

But that didn’t matter now. He had messed it up, but he’s still got time to make it right! Because his sister was a good person. She was filled with pure goodness, and she would understand that he was trying to fix it. That he was there for her now, and that everything would be alright. Everything would go back to the way it was, and it would be even better, because he won’t leave.

He wouldn’t leave. Not again.

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

Gotham Police Department: 10 years ago

Dick had been taken away from his dinner quite rudely. Both Alfred and Bruce were acting out of sorts with the sudden call from Gordon.

He wasn’t really listening to it, mostly focused on not dying from starvation. Until Bruce had marched out of the kitchen towards the garage, and Alfred took away his plate of food and told him to get in the car as soon as possible.

The two of them didn’t answer any of his questions on the ride to the police station.

But Dick took notice of the faint tremble in Bruce’s left hand. Even when they stepped inside the busy building.

Gordon had been sitting on a bench outside his small office. A small lump was covered by his thick police coat right beside him, their small barefoot legs not able to reach the floor. The policeman was talking quietly to the unresponsive child, whose face was half hidden by the coat and only showing their dark, wide eyes.

As they got closer, Gordon gave them a quick glance and patted the child’s head before standing up and greeting them.

Dick’s attention remained on the kid, tuning out the adult’s conversation as he approched them and sat carefully besides them.

The child was a girl, judging by long lashes and wet curls on her head. Her gaze remained on the floor, staying as still and as quiet as possible. He even had trouble hearing her breathing, thinking about how she could even do it if her mouth was covered by the neck of the coat and nose twitching every once in a while.

“-it was the neighbors who called us. The girl was standing under the rain, screaming for help.” “-have any wounds? Is she sick?” “-a few scratches. But I’m mostly concerned about the mother-”

Bits of conversation filtered through Dick’s ears, looking over his shoulder at the three man before deciding it wouldn’t do the girl any good to listen to them.

“Hey, I’m Dick.” He greeted quietly, smiling down a her.

The girl gave him a glance from the corner of her eye. It took a bit before a small voice muttered what he guessed was her name.

He kneeled on one knee so he was able to look her eye to eye. She was drenched in rainwater, noticing small goosebumps on her legs. The only source of warmth she had was the giant coat around her, and she didn’t seem anywhere near to let go of it.

A frown came up to his face when he looked at her feet. They were raw red, with a few cuts, and with some dirt around it.

“Well, that is not good. You’ll catch a cold like this.” He said with a grin.

She only stared at him, head tilting to the side and nose scrunching.

He began to take off his jacket, using the sleeves to dry her legs. He ignored her flinching, muttering soft apologies, and asking her questions to keep her distracted.

“-never knew! She never told me about it!” “How is Lady Bianca? Has she been internalized?” “-haven’t heard much, but she is under sedatives.” “-she always took her pills. Wait, does he know about this?” “-still in Arkham for now. Nothing has gotten out yet.”

Dick then took off his shoes and socks, slipping the socks in the tiny feet with a laugh when they slipped down. Obviously too big on her.

That got him a small giggle from her, twirling her ankles and making the slip down more.

“Dick” Bruce’s exhausted tone made both of them look up.

The man gave the girl a quick glance before addressing the teenage boy. Crouching down with a grunt before speaking lowly.

“Stay with her for now. I have to talk to Gordon about some papers, and then we can all go home.”

Dick looked at the girl and then back at bruce, nodding with a smile.

“Sure, I won’t leave her alone.”

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

“Huh, is that the teacher?” Barbara’s voice brought him out of his daze. He also noticed how his fingers ached.

His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. Dick quickly let go of it and rubbed his fingers, turning his attention towards Barbara’s field of vision as his mouth curled into a disdained grimace.

Right. The teacher.

From the very first impression, Dick could tell the man was rough around the edges. Broad and burly build, accompanied by a brutal presence and dark old eyes. His voice was deep, almost sounding similar to Bruce if it weren’t for the growly edge it had while he was reprimanding the boys and his sister.

Of course, like any responsible older brother, he butted in and tried to talk with him so she could get out of trouble.

Then, he got his own type of reprimand for trespassing onto the school grounds without being a legal guardian. To Dick Grayson, Logan Munroe was a man that shouldn’t be around children if he was going to punish someone that innocent and obviously coerced into this scheme.

At the moment, Munroe stood by the front entrance of the school with a pouting Wayne at his side. She had caught sight of the car, to which Dick waved from inside with a sweet smile.

To which she grimaced and turned her back towards the vehicle.

“Wow,” Barbara laughed. “She is not very happy to see you.”

“She is just upset about the detention,” Dick muttered before honking the horn of his car.

But she only crossed her arms and didn’t look back.

Logan frowned at the display in front of him. He certainly wasn’t expecting this on his first day of class. Much less in such a pretentious academy like this one. It was simple work. Pretend to be a teacher, gather intel around the city, and detect possible awakening mutants nearby.

He had hit the jackpot with having three mutants in his class.

Three possible victims for whatever messed-up scheme was going on around Gotham.

At first, he wasn’t sure if the kids were even aware of their powers. He needed to encounter them separately from the other students so their smells wouldn’t mix and confuse his theory. And if it was by divine intervention (which he would never call it so), all three of them ran into him and lay at his feet.

Quite literally.

So what if he pulled out of his ass some made up rule about running the halls? He wasn’t supposed to be smoking inside the halls anyway, and the kids had ruined a perfectly good cigar.

He was petty, so what? He got what he needed, which leads to the current situation.

The Wayne girl was odd. 

Not a bad odd, but a familiar odd.

The fidgeting, the impulsive attitude, the out-of-context comments, and the way she needs to move constantly. Hell, that pout and posture she had right now was like having a walking deja-vu.

All that she needed was some white hair and running shoes, and she would look just like Pietro-

HOOOOONNNNKKKKKK

Which led to the honking annoyance at the front gate.

“Ain’t that your brother, kid?” He nodded towards the car, where a red-haired woman began to hit the guy over the head and yell at him.

She huffed and turned her nose. “Nope. I’m walking home by myself, actually.”

Logan hummed, scratching his jaw before crossing his arms. “You’re a long way from your home, bub.”

The girl muttered under her breath and kicked some imaginary dust off the floor, silently cursing while avoiding looking at Logan and the shaking car with the couple arguing in the background. It was almost non-existent murmuring to her, but to Logan, it was loud and clear.

‘That isn’t my home.’

The man grunted out a heavy sigh, already picturing what was going on here. He nodded to the side, signaling her to come closer so she would pay attention. She dragged her feet slowly, her posture slouching with a glare at him.

‘Yeah, I’m gonna need some DNA tests from Hank after this.’

“Alright, kid, let’s make a deal.” He offered, which got her attention. “You get in that car and go to your house-”

“That’s a shitty deal-”

“Language, kid.” He snarled before clearing his throat. “You go to your house, and I’ll see if I can get you in the track and field team by the end of the week.”

She suddenly perked up, a wide grin breaking on her face. Logan felt pleased at that reaction.

“Since you seem so fond of running around and staying horrible hours away from your house, I would prefer if you wouldn’t crack your head open by running in the hall-”

His breath was knocked out of him by the sudden tackle of the beaming and squealing girl. Logan only patted her shoulder awkwardly while looking to the side with a groan.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” She bursted with a jump as she stepped away from him, quickly taking off towards the car while waving widely at him with the biggest and almost manical grin as she continued to thank him until she climbed in the backseat of the car.

As the car drove off, Logan just waved slowly with a smirk once he noticed how the young man glared at him from the rearview mirror.

That would be the least of his problems. He needed to make some calls.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

Bruce couldn’t remember the last time he had set foot in his daughter’s room.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had set foot in this side of the manor.

Her bedroom was colorful compared to the rest of the halls and rooms in this dusty old mansion. With paintings and crystals hanging from the ceiling and stained glass windows. A messy desk and unmade sheets in the bed.

So much life in a tiny room in the corner of a dark and gray mansion.

His fingers traced the wooden carvings of the wardrobe, as his eyes swept around for anything out of place that could give him a clue.

Letters. He was looking for letters.

Bruce kept all his correspondence and documents about Wayne Enterprises and personal things in his office. Anything else was in the batcomputer or in the cave document archive.

The letters Bruce was looking for were supposed to be under lock and key, hidden in a secret compartment on his desk cabinet. It could only be open with a key that he always kept with him. Nobody knew about this compartment. Not even Alfred.

The letters were meant for one person. He had never opened them.

He preferred to sweep them under the rug. It was for the better.

Better for her.

She didn’t have to know he had been reaching out. 

The farther away he was, the better.

Bruce had allowed the letters to come in for the first few years. Two letters each month, along with a present on her birthday. He had deemed it harmless. Respecting Bianca’s wishes to keep a good relationship with her brother, just so their daughter could have an uncle.

A criminal uncle, but still an uncle.

That was until that man dared to claim custody over her. Showing up with Bianca’s testament and signature in the middle of a patrol night.

It said that as soon as he was deemed sane by his psychiatrist, and continued to go to therapy, Bianca’s daughter would be passed to be under his tutelage. 

It had been a dirty tactic, but Bruce managed to keep him locked up and hide the testament. Along with the letters that kept coming twice a month.

Why didn’t he destroy them? Probably because there was still a sentimental part of him that prevented him from doing so.

Now, he regretted keeping them instead of burning them.

Someone had sneaked into his office. Someone had found the compartment. Someone broke into it. Someone took the cards from-

“What are you doing in my room?”

Bruce hadn’t heard the door creak open, so he was caught off guard by his daughter’s sudden appearance.

She stood by the edge of the door, her school uniform wrinkled and hanging a bit off her body. As if it were a size too big for her. Her braid was almost gone, the hair tie loose over her shoulder. The school bag was hanging on her hand, letting go slowly until it reached the floor, and she walked deeper into the room.

She was frowning, eyebrows twisted in annoyance, and shoulders tense.

He wasn’t wanted here.

“Heard you got into trouble at school,” He replied, his hands slipping away from the wooden wardrobe. “Mind telling me what happened?”

“You can ask Richard about it. He was there.” she countered with a shrug. Sitting down on the edge of the bed and staring directly into his eyes.

His hand twitched at the dark color of her eyes. Still unfamiliar with how to handle the pressure in his lungs whenever they clashed with his own.

“I’m asking you.”

“And I got homework to do, so go ask him.”

Bruce said her name in a warning tone, “If you are mad at me, you must talk about it. That’s how it works.”

His daughter aimlessly looked around, gesturing with her hands. “Oh, I am not mad. Not at all. Just a bit busy to talk to you right now.”

She got up and began to shove a startled Bruce out of her room by pushing his back towards the door. Taking advantage of catching him off guard, so he wasn’t putting all of his weight on his feet.

Before he knew it, she had slammed the door behind him and locked it.

Just as he was about to knock on the door and maybe force it open, his phone vibrated with an incoming message. Muttering as he harshly took the phone out, Bruce cursed to himself as a message from none other than Clark asking him to come to the watchtower for an urgent meeting.

Bruce stomped away with a snarl, his steps echoing on the hall farther and farther away.

Meanwhile, she let out a sigh of relief as she slumped down against the door with her legs stretched on the floor. Her head was banging softly against the wood with her eyes closed.

“A warning would have been nice, you know?” She offered to the room.

The lamp on her nightstand flickered on, making her open her eyes as Wayne began to communicate.

“... --- .-. .-. -.-- .-.-.-”

SORRY.

She shook her head with a tired smile. “Is fine. But we gotta talk. Like real talk.”

Getting up from the floor with a groan, she suddenly regretted slamming down on the floor like that as she sat down on the bed once again. Taking one of the pillows and hugging it to her lap, biting her lip as she waited for a sign from Wayne.

The sudden shift in weight on her right side was answer enough.

“So, I met Warren today,” the lights in the room turned off.

“C’mon,” she groaned with a laugh. “A heads up would have been great, but I handled it very well. I think…”

The light bulb of the lamp began to dim up, which gave her some relief that Wayne was still there and willing to listen.

“He told me about the recital. And I want to know if you wanted me to do it.”

Wayne was a ghost, and ghosts have unfinished business if they still remain on the mortal plane. That’s what she had gathered from those restless nights in the library with Wayne as company. 

If Wayne’s unfinished business was tied to the recital, then she would have to do it- 

“-. --- .-.-.- / -.. --- -. .----. - / -.. --- / .. - .-.-.-”

NO. DON'T DO IT.

That answer made her frown. “Are you sure? Warren told me you practiced for weeks.”

The lamp trembled as its light flickered. “.. - / -.. .. . ... / .-- .. - .... / -- . .-.-.- / - .... . / ... --- ..- -. -.. / -.. .. . ... / .-- .. - .... / -- . .-.-.-”

IT DIES WITH ME. THE SOUND DIES WITH ME.

Wayne’s presence was felt against her back. She returned the gesture by leaning back with a sigh. Her head tilted back to look at the strings of crystals hanging off the roof.

“As long as it is what you want, I’ll respect it.”

Wet clumps of hair draped over her shoulder, the sound of a shrilling breath invading her ears. A faint whisper brought some comfort despite all the wrongness surrounding her.

“Thank you…”

“All good, as long as you are alright with letting me alter the deal.” She chuckled, playfully shoving with her shoulder at Wayne’s suddenly solid back. “If I am going to a gala, at least let me gain something that benefits me.”

Wayne’s laugh was more like nails on a chalkboard. The lights flickering and books rattling on the bookshelves. Crystals tingling and ringing. Even the bedsheets fluttered and hovered around the edges.

The scene felt somewhat familiar to her. Things floating around and moving from side to side by an unseen force.

It wrapped her in a thick blanket of blissful, homely feelings.

Their laughs echoed down the halls, making the lights of different rooms in the manor flicker or cut off. A few of the members of the family were startled by the sudden failures in the electricity. Somewhere in the house, Dick was cursing and yelling for falling on the bathtub while looking for the light switch.

“Oh, that’s right!” She suddenly straightened up, turning around to look at the now still room and empty spot behind her. “Did you find anything that could lead us to what Rio wants? Any clues?”

Wayne stayed quiet for a few moments until a wave of wind made her hair tie fly off, which gained a complaint from the girl. Then, the lights answered once again.

“-. --- .-.-.- / .-- . / -. . . -.. / .... . .-.. .--. .-.-.-” 

NO. WE NEED HELP.

The girl sighed roughly at that, picking up the tie and twisting her hair up. “And who could probably help us with this? Anyone in your mind?”

Wayne’s reply almost made her choke on air.

“-- --- -- .-.-.- / .-- . / -. . . -.. / -- --- -- .-.-.-”

MOM. WE NEED MOM.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

Eastview, New Jersey - 10:45 PM

“It’s weird,” Billy mentioned out loud. “I can feel her, but I can’t pinpoint it in any direction.”

He sat cross-legged on the floor, slouching over scattered maps and scribbled notebooks. His room was a mess. One of his walls had a pinboard with a map of the states. Multiple pins with a red string wrapped around them, creating a bizarre web of red all over the board.

Billy huffed, throwing away his pen to the other side of the room. His shoulders tensed as he glared down at the mess of papers.

As if intimidating them would be enough to give him answers.

“Perhaps,” Agatha drawled with a flare as she hovered in her transparent form over the boy and his mess. “We could hit the road for once and for all. Getting fresh air does wonders to the young mind, y’know?”

Billy glared up at her. “We can’t leave.”

His expression flattered as he looked at the framed family picture of the Kaplans on his desk. It was from the bar mitzva. Both the parents and he.

Well, it was actually William Kaplan in the picture. 

Not Billy Maximoff.

“Not yet,” he muttered. “Not until I have her location. That way, I will know where to start looking.”

Agatha bemoaned in protest, floating around the room until she lay over on Billy’s bed with a dramatic pose. Hand over her forehead while complaining.

“Who knew being a ghost would bore me to death? You Maximoffs only take the fun out of the afterlife!” Billy just rolled his eyes at her scene, looking back down at his organized mess.

That’s until his eye caught sight of a small closed book, almost hidden beneath his bed.

His spell book.

Billy flicked his fingers, the book flying directly into his hands. Agatha made a questioning sound, flying to look over Billy’s shoulder as he flipped through the pages quickly with an intense stare.

“Anything caught your attention, Billy-Boo?” She snickered once her mind started to piece together what his apprentice was planning on doing.

“Just a thought,” he muttered, getting up from the floor and walking towards the board on the wall. His gaze wandered around the scattered pins, murmuring under his breath while gripping the spellbook rather tightly.

“If something or someone is blocking her physical location,” He turned around, moving the mess on the floor with a snap of his fingers. Then, threw his book towards the bed and waved his hand so a marker landed in his fingers.

The boy began to draw on the floor, as Agatha hovered rather smugly at his side.

“Then this perfect time to put those beautiful mind powers of yours to good use, am I right?”

Billy hummed. “Not quite. I’m still on training wheels for trying anything that drastic.”

“However, The Dreaming is an uncharted field. And that could work.”

Agatha cackled loudly at that.

Maximoffs. So entertaining. 

──── ∗ ���◈⋅ ∗ ────

Author's note: Hello, everyone! It's been a CRAZY week for me. Finlly finished my semester , thank GOD. Got to work on a play after such a stressful semester, pulled a muscle while slipping on fake blood after spining on a stripper pole (Im fine, just a bit tense on the back). And also, finally got enough time to work on my short film script befor starting the summer semester (bc I like to torture myself, obv.) Hope you all like this chapter, remember that I love to answer and read comments and asks. Let me know what are your thoughts and theories of what is to come! Also, added the translations to morse code in the fic too! Lots of love and tight hugs, GG✨

Tag List:

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Bonus Memes:

[kabuki-writes]

Interlude || The Prize Of A Father's Pride

chapter: 5 chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: General Acacius is forced to tell his daughter, that she will soon marry Emperor Geta and become Empress of Rome - a trade, which saved her life and that of her family, but at what cost?

warning(s): angrsty themes | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: We already reached chapter 5 !?!??! Hell, yes! And we're getting further and further. So before this whole plot picks up a little more speed, i thought a small interlude feat. Acacius would be a nice little treat. The next chapter is going to be longer again.

word count: 1.7k

You stood in the archways that led to the inner garden of your family's home. The curtain of the night had already laid itself upon the sky, when you'd reached it, the haunting grin of Caracalla and the words about your father were still on your mind. He had given you no answer on why you should thank the General, and it didn't sound like it was even something to thank him for either. It was more like whatever it was it was about to benefit the Emperors. Yet you knew your father and despite him never speaking it out loud - you've noticed how much he despised the royal twins.

The night was quiet and the villa was softly illuminated by the torches, which the slaves always lit up as soon as dawn came. Your mother knew about your whereabouts, that you went off to the theater with your friends Cicero and Lydia, nothing out of the ordinary. That you met the Emperor Caracalla during your night out was neither planned nor hoped for and yet the time you'd spend alongside him in the royal box still lingered in your head. Should you tell your parents? Maybe it was best to keep it in the shadows, as you didn't want them to worry more than necessary about you.

But when you approached the garden, you heard the quiet sobbing of your dear mother from the distance. You were on your way to your rooms, yet you couldn't ignore something like this, so you stopped beside a pillar and looked down to the inner courtyard with its beautiful pond and the many plants that provided shade during the summer months. You saw between the palm trees, cedars and bushes how your mother kneeled in front of your father, while he hold her in his arms as if something terrible happened - as if someone died.

You were not able to stand it any longer without knowing what happenes, so you stepped out and made yourself noticable.

"Mother? Father? What happened?", you asked quickly, but when Acacius raised his head to look into your direction, there was nothing but pain and suffering in his eyes. The way his eyes were locked on you made your heart sink down to your feet as it was crystal clear that it might have something to do with you. "y/n...", he began, but got disrupted by the sobbing of your mother. "Tell her, Acacius! Please, you need to tell her!"

It broke your heart to see your mother in that state, huddled together and in tears. But what was even worse was the news your father would tell you right in that very moment: "y/n, you... i am sorry," he started and clearly struggled to find the right words. You've never seen your father like this. "I gave my consent to a marriage between you and Emperor Geta."

Your eyes widened and your face went pale in an instant as you froze in your position. "What do you mean?", the trembling words fell from your lips. A marriage?!

"You will marry the Emperor," Acacius repeated, his voice clear but racked with pain. And after a couple of long minutes it finally hit you like an arrow right into the heart. Your breath becme quicker and you had to sit down on one of the stone benches. In this moment you were not even able to bare the sight of your parents, while the realization kicked in. No tears came from your eyes, in fact, it even surprised your own father how you took the news. But the depiction of stoicism came at a high cost, as you clearly had to fight within you against the urge to just scream.

And your father knew that. He knew you better than anyone, you were always his sun and stars, the one person beside his wife to which he tried to come back every single time when he went off to war. Slowly your mother came back to her feet with the help of her husband, but her usual soft face was covered in tears and her eyes were swollen and red as she looked at you. "What have you done, my love... ? You need to be honest with y/n, please... i beg you. She needs to know," she whispered with an urgency in her voice and even a small amount of anger.

Your eyes ripped themselves from the pond in front of you, staring at your father, who looked at you like a broken man. "He threatened to kill you and your mother, it was the only option... trust me, i would've never agreed to it otherwise. May the gods damn me for my pride, that i thought i would be able to put them down together with the senate. It was a plan that is nothing more than dust and ashes now." Acacius rushed to you and took your hands into his, pressing them tightly as if he feared you would fade away if he didn't. "I can never forgive myself to put you into a position like that, y/n," he whispered, and for the very first time, you witnessed the fear in your father's eyes. And he feared for you.

But all those words disappeared in your ears, as you tried desperately to numb the anxiety within you. Now the words that Caracalla said to you made sense and they echoed in your head once more. Nonetheless how could you hate your father for this? You knew he did it for the sake of the people, he always fought for Rome and never for himself. This was the way he was and you would've never wanted it to be otherwise. Yet you were now the one to bear the consequences of your father's actions, a sacrifice. For the first time in your life, you were the one to protect this family... and you wanted to take this risk. Not that there was an option anyways.

So you took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in your throat, while you stood up from the bench and looked your father right into his eyes. "There is nothing we can do about it, don't we? The die is cast and we have to live with the consequences," you said, even though your voice was cracking for a moment before you took one hand of your mother and one of your father, pressing them gentle and in a reassuring way, even though you still saw how much they suffered. You were their only daughter after all and even if it wouldn't be the Emperor, a marriage always called for a daughter to leave her parents behind. "Please... i don't want you to look at me like i am already dead", you whispered with a hint of desperation as it hurt you even more that your own parents still treated you like they had to protect you from this world. If fate wanted this to happen, then you would find your way through it.

"I will marry him. If that will save my own life and yours then be it", you said again, while ran down your mothers cheeks once again as she hold your hand in ache. She said your name before her voice stopped. But in that very moment, your father stepped in and pulled you into a tight hug, holding you for a long moment that felt like an eternity. Acacius blamed himself entirely for all that was happening and in this very moment, he promised to himself that he will find a way to get you out of this situation. There was still hope, if he was able to be careful enough.

"You're my daughter, y/n... i know you will not lose yourself in this, i know it...and i will always be proud of you, no matter what...", he mumbled in reassurance, trying desperately to fullfill your wish not to treat all of this as it was your clear funeral. That wouldn't be right, he knew that too. You would live on, but at what cost?

"How much time do i have left?", you suddenly asked, while you slowly removed yourself from your father's arms. Right now the whole situation was still so unreal for you, even though you knew this will change soon enough. The brows of your father furrowed as he took your mother's hand to hold her and give her something of the strength he'd recovered - at least a bit. "Sadly Emperor Geta made sure not to waste any time with this: He expects the stipulatio (engagement promise) tomorrow, a celebration will happen at the palace to announce it publicly... and then the formal wedding will take place in two weeks, still in Juno to avoid that bad luck falls onto your union."

"As if the gods would grant him luck with a forced marriage like this," your mother mumbled, while she tried her best to wipe away her tears and regain her posture. "There are not even enough sheep in all of Rome that he could sacrifice for this..." She was still pale like a corpse due to this news, but at least she was able to regain her anger again despite the helplessness.

Your fingers buried themselves into the fabric of your pale blue toga as you recollected your thoughts. There was no time left, no real time. But did you expect it to be otherwise? In a way, a lot of women would envy you for this opportunity. Marrying an Emperor meant that you would rise up to be an Empress alongside a God, nothing was more noble and meaningful. Men fought wars to earn power and honor, women needed to take a different path in this world, marrying and bearing children - only to be sidelined by history nonetheless. You didn't want to face the same fate. And in the end you were still your father's daughter through and through, carrying the family name like a ritiualistic armor.

“Whatever anyone does or says, I must be emerald and keep my colour," you whispered a quote and your father instantly got it. With an understanding nod, a weak smile appeared on his lips.

"Marcus Aurelius...", Acacius noticed right away as it was a quote from his 'meditations' which your father had given you to read. It helped you now more than ever and the same could've been said about Acacius as well.

_________________________________

Tags:

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[mail-me-a-snail]

a collection of my "production notes" for true blu, as promised :-) below the cut youll find my thumbnails for each piece of chapter art, as well as some commentary

youll also notice that one of these doodles has sniper's eyebrow scar flipped, this is bc i drew it well before i actually cemented blu sniper's design ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

oh yeah and here's a video i had to make to help me visualize sniper's journey behind enemy lines in chapter 4 (made in gmod, so forgive the wacky posing)(who am i kidding, it's freakin gmod that's what youre here for)

these thumbnails were jotted down in an absolute haze bc i really wanted to get them on paper before i forgot them >_> hence why my handwriting is all over the dang place

youll notice that chapter 3 went through this short period where i really, really wanted to draw out the projector scene from chapter 3:

It's as if he's standing in front of a blank screen. The projector stands before him. (...) Light flashes across his chest. That's all he sees: that light. The shapes that dance before him. The shapes he cannot make out--but that flash by, anyway.

but i couldnt for the life of me find a composition i actually liked. plus, if i had gone through with it, it would've used yellow, which wouldn't have matched the theme of red, blue, black, and white.

speaking of chapter art that didn't make the cut, chapter 5 initially looked very different from the one i ended up posting! i really wanted to emphasize the moment sniper breaks the phone, but perhaps it would've felt too tense, since it followed chapter 4's somewhat violent cover. that, and i thought itd be thematically and symbolically significant for the last piece of cover art to lack the color red entirely.

spy being on chapter 3's cover was not planned at ALL. he wasnt a big part of the chapter in the original draft, in fact i had implied that engie had sent him to talk to sniper, as opposed to him doing this of his own accord like he does in the final product.

sniper and scout's fight scene in chapter 2 wasn't planned, either! i added it bc i thought it would be nice to show that sniper cant just go around threatening people without reaping the consequences of it...scout is a grown ass, violent man. he wasnt about to take that shit lying down ya know?

hmmm i think that's about all i have 2 say!! if u made it this far, thanks for sticking around! if u haven't read this fic, u can find it as "TRUE BLU" on ao3 by snailmeamail (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober Masterlist 2024

Welcome to Kinktober everyone! This is the list and descriptions of all the Halloween fics I have managed to write involving either Wanda, Nat and, in some chapters, even both of them :)

All chapters include 18+ smut and something relating to the spooky season so I hope you all enjoy.

Happy Halloween everyone! <3

 All of these fics contain 18+ smut (so MDNI) and all have specific warnings/tags at the start of each so please read these carefully before reading. Some of these one shots contain dark themes so please consider the warnings/tags specified. 

1) Madness -Admiring your girlfriend tied up, blindfolded and waiting eagerly for you to play with the new nipple clamps adorning her body, has only one thing filling your mind: how to drive her mad with your touch, how to engrave the feeling of your tantalising lips, teasing fingers and torturous tongue in her mind for weeks. (Dom Reader X Sub Wanda)

Madness G!P Reader Version

2) Pumpkin Carving: Carving a pumpkin with your girlfriend was supposed to be a fun and easy task, well, that was until you got distracted by the sight of her toned arms and her seductive hands, unable to stop your thoughts from remembering how her fingers felt deep inside you. (Dom Natasha X Sub Reader) 

3) Trick Or Treat: Knocking on your neighbours door, you were hoping to receive a ‘treat’ from the older woman before her husband and children came back from their trick or treating trip. (Milf Wanda X Reader) 

4) What’s Your Favourite Scary Movie?: Whilst on the phone to your girlfriend, the conversation starts off innocently with favourite horror films before escalating down a more sinful path. You tell her how you wish she could be here with you, unaware of the small camera she had hidden in your room, watching as she guides you slide your hands under your panties. (Dark Natasha X Reader) 

5) The Devil Made Me Do It: After an unusual dream and the darkhold corrupting her mind, Wanda can’t help but look over at your form, soundly asleep, and wanting to make that dream a reality. (Dark Wanda X Reader) 

6) I Promise I Won’t Bite: Ending up in the Maximoff-Romanoff Mansion, you can’t help but be nervous in the presence of both powerful women. Wanda assures you that you had nothing to fear, that she wouldn’t bite, but the same couldn’t be said for her wife, Natasha, who’s smirk showed off her subtle fangs, desire evident in her lustful gaze. (Vampire WandaNat X Reader) 

7) One Day A Year: A girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girl can say anything about it. Whilst at a party with your two girlfriends, dressed up in your sinful costumes, the three of you find yourself on the sofa with a blanket over you laps, the two women intending to take advantage of the privacy and how drunk everyone else was, too distracted to notice how your cheeks flushed with arousal. (WandaNat X Reader) 

I have not finished writing all of these so I’m not sure what the upload structure will be like. My plan is to post the first fic on Friday and hopefully write the rest of them so I have them all finished by Halloween! (If not I will still write them and just post them as soon as they’re written) 

Let me know which chapters you’re most looking forward to! I hope you all enjoy <3 

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Birthday Shana! I would love a mew chapter of what they expect or anything for the untamed💜💜💜

continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

The strange Amestrian girl gets him a room at a motel with a worker that leers at him as she pays and he doesn't know why he's going along with this besides that he's lost enough blood that every time he tries to step away from her, black spots appear in his vision.

She lowers him onto the edge of the bed and disappears into the bathroom, coming back with a damp wash cloth. She grabs his face, tilting into the light of the weak yellow lamp. She frowns at him as she starts to clean his face, wiping away blood and dirt and sweat. "Do you have a change of clothes or something? How are you managing normally? I'd guess the other Ishvalans are sheltering you, but I think you're smart enough to know that's the first place they'll look, and I don't think you want to put them in danger. Do you?"

He tenses. Does she know who he is? What he's done? She's speaking as if she does, but then her actions make even less sense than before. "Why are you doing this?"

"I have a little brother," she says. "If anything happened to him, I'd do a lot worse than explode a few military dogs."

She does know who he is. She moves the washcloth down his neck, and so close and so bare with her touch on him it should be uncomfortable, tense, something, but instead it feels comfortable. His mother died when he was young, but he has vague memories of her wiping him down just like this. "I didn't have a little brother."

"Yeah," she says, golden eyes meeting his just for a moment. "You were one, right? You've got the look."

"What's the look?" he murmurs. He's so tired. Everything hurts.

"Lost," she says softly. He flinches. "Us older siblings, we've gotta keep it together, gotta have a plan, even if we don't. Fake it till you make it. My little brother is never lost because he always knows exactly where I am."

"He gave me his arm," he says, not knowing why he's telling her this. She's pretty and young and knows nothing of war -

She laughs, sharp and unexpected. When he manages to look back at her face, she's grinning, and there's something in her eyes that stops him from taking offense, something that makes him wonder if she really has escaped the war. "Come on, get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning. I have to make a phone call."

She pushes him onto the bed and he shouldn't leave himself so defenseless and unprotected in front of this Amestrian stranger, but his eyelids are heavy and he feels a blanket being spread over him as he falls into either sleep or unconsciousness.

[aayakashii]

(maybe) distance makes the heart grow fonder

Part 1, part 2

Author's note: as someone mentioned, it's been 8 months since the last update 💀 but I said I wasn't going to abandon it and I was serious! Either way, sorry for making everyone who likes this story wait so long. I'll try not to have the next chapter take too long but I have like 3 or 4 other fics I wanna write so they'll come first. The next chapter is already outlined though! Soon you'll have the other ghouls suffering from your absence >:3c aaanyway this one is a long one! I hope you like it and I hope it was worth the wait too. Let me know what you think!!!!!!

Warnings: angst, nightmares, blood, depictions of a panic attack

Ren was in a pickle.

He had called your name out a lot of times, but you were fast asleep on his bed and barely even stirred. He placed his hand in front of your nose more than once, in order to confirm you were breathing, each time getting more and more annoyed at the fact that, yes, you were breathing and still wouldn't budge.

That's what he gets for being nice once. Some annoying ass senior that slept like the dead hogging his bed.

Ren stood next to you, burning a hole into your forehead as he chewed anxiously on his thumb, wincing and hissing when he pulled a bit more than just dead skin. He sighed, looking at the red gash on the corner of his finger.

“This is so fucking annoying.” He muttered, rubbing his face with his hands.

What was the game plan here? Was he going to give up and just let you sleep on his bed all day? But what about him? He needed sleep as well.

Well, what was his other obvious option?

Ren grimaced at the thought of having to carry you on his arms, shuddering at the idea of being called out for sexual harassment after only trying to help. No, he did his good deed for the day already, and look where that got him.

As he pulled his hair in frustration, he heard the familiar sounds of things falling down all over the place downstairs. Great. That fucking weirdo was back. Awesome timing, in fact. He could deal with this issue then.

Ren turned on his heel, opening and closing the door to his bedroom quietly, in order to keep you from awakening, despite himself. Downstairs, Haru was sweeping an unknown pink powder while Towa watched with uncontained amusement. The pink dust sparkled and made strange, tingling sounds, like tiny little bells, as the broom’s bristles swooped them to a corner of the room. Haru mumbled to himself, eyebrows scrunched tight etching deep lines onto his forehead.

Ren lingered on the last step of the stairway, hesitant on asking Haru, of all people, for a favor. But desperate times call for desperate measures and Ren didn’t see any other way to (gently) remove you out of his room without getting in trouble for that - in his mind, the only options were being accused of sexual harassment or just straight up being scolded by you. And he didnt know which option sounded scarier.

“Hey.” he called out to the red-haired man quietly, scratching his cheek.

“Oh? Ren!” Haru looked up, face immediately brightening despite Ren’s permanent scowl. A hand flew to support his own lower back, which popped audibly as he turned around. “Think you can help me clean these things here? Towa bumped on the shelf and now we have this, uh. Little mess to clean up.”

Ren frowned in disgust and shook his head.

“Nah, actually… I’m the one needing some help right now to be honest.”

Haru’s face immediately fell.

“What’s wrong?” He stepped closer, eyeing Ren intently as he searched for anything out of the ordinary. “Did you get hurt somehow? Are you okay?”

“Ugh… Yeah, yeah, just come here in my room” he rolled his eyes, climbing up the stairs back towards his room without checking whether or not Haru would follow. After a few mumbles, the sound of a broom loudly falling down and some muttered curses, Ren heard footsteps quickly trailing right behind.

Ren put a finger in front of his lips, shushing Haru right before entering his room. A gust of cold air blew past them as he opened the door, goosebumps prickling their skin and Haru had to suppress a shiver. Right before he was about to scold Ren for racking up their electric bill with how long he kept the air conditioner on, his mouth shut immediately, teeth clacking audibly.

Right under the navy-colored duvet, you were fast asleep - chest rising and falling with every breath, almost peaceful-looking, if it weren't for the puffiness of your eyes and the redness of your nose.

“Oh…”

Ren sighed loudly.

“Yeah. Can you get them outta here? I wanna, you know. Have my bed back so I can sleep.”

Haru tilted his head.

“Can’t you carry them, though? You’re strong enough.”

“No way.” he shook his head vehemently. “What if they sue me for sexual harrassment?”

Haru scoffed in disbelief.

“They would never do that, and you know it. You’re their friend after all.”

“We’re not friends.” he mumbled.

Haru forcefully rubbed his nose that still had a bit of pink powder dust.

“Okay.” he said, sniffling, eyeing his hands that were now a bit pink as well. “I guess I can take them to Obscuary.”

Ren raised an eyebrow.

“Obscuary? Why don't you take them to their dorm?”

Haru tiptoed towards the bed, gently removing the duvet from your body, a guilty expression on his face as he noticed how you shivered under the cold air.

“They’re gonna spend a little time there.” He mumbled as he crouched and pulled you into his arms with ease. “Oh, that reminds me…” he turned to Ren, expression unusually severe. “You’re not allowed to tell anyone that they were here. If anyone asks you if you know where they are, lie.”

“What? Why?” Ren asked as Haru maneuvered his way out of his room.

“Ah, it’s a bit of a long story, and it’s best if they tell you themself, but they asked Towa and I to do that. You have to do the same. That’s a Captain’s order, in fact.”

Ren scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.”

“You can't tell that Sinostra friend of yours, no matter what.” Haru added, going down the stairs as Ren trailed behind.

“Ritsu? He’s not my friend.”

“Can’t tell those 1st years from Vagastrom either.” Haru scowled as he looked once again the pink dust that still covered a good chunk of the room. Towa was nowhere to be seen.

“None of those guys are my friends! I won't tell anyone, I got it, ugh.”

“Okay. good. While I'm out, you clean up the living room then.” Haru concluded as he opened the door to the dorm and stepped out.

“What? Wait, hold on! I didn’t say I would do that!” Ren replied, exasperation in his features as he immediately tried running towards the entrance as well.

“Counting on you! Be right back! Bahnti!”

As soon as Ren arrived at the door, Haru was already nowhere to be seen, his stigma immediately taking him far and away from Jabberwock, leaving the whole living room mess in Ren’s hands.

“Fuck!” he slapped the wall, wincing at the instant pain on his palm. “He’s so fucking annoying!”

Haru opened the door to Obscuary’s main entrance with ease, despite holding you in his arms, and sauntered towards the bar.

The bell chimed softly as he opened the heavy mahogany door and entered the dim lit recint and soft, jazzy music echoed through the place accompanied by the clinking of glasses.

“Sorry, the bar’s not open yet!” Rui announced cheerily, his back towards the door as he dried one of his many crystal cups. “I'm still organizing everything so please come in a few hours from now!”

Haru grunted, adjusting you in his arms before getting closer to the counter.

“Hey, Rui.” He said with a sigh, resting his hip against the sturdy wood.

“Oh! Harurin!” Rui took a quick glance over his shoulder before placing the cup down and turning around. “What’s u–” he paused with a gasp, eyes widening, as soon as he was faced with Haru's sheepish smile and your form, bundled in his arms.

“Uh…” Rui cleared his throat, eyes glued to the way you seemed to be holding on to Haru's vest for dear life. “What's going on?” he laughed anxiously as he rounded the counter to get closer.

“Aw, will you look at that. They look like that silly little princess from the fairytales.” Ed’s sultry voice resounded from a corner of the bar, his tall and languid form coming out of the shadows with a smirk on his face.

“Are they okay?” Rui asked, completely ignoring Ed's comment, although his grimace was fairly obvious.

“Well…” Haru shrugged, looking at you with a frown. “Physically, I guess they’re fine. They were going to come here to Obscuary and ask to stay a little while, but they passed out back in Jabberwock. Probably of exhaustion.”

“Exhaustion?”

The bar’s door slammed open and both men jumped, startled by the loud noise. You, however, remained trapped in a deep slumber, despite the ruckus caused by Lyca as he barreled through the bar with excitement.

“Is the honor student here?! I smell their-” Lyca’s expression fell as soon as he saw you bundled up in Haru’s arms, eyes still puffy, with a frown as you dreamed unpleasant dreams.

Lyca’s ears and tail popped out, an angry rumble reverberating in his chest while he approached Haru, slowly.

“Harurin…” he growled the nickname, an odd contrast to his demeanor. “What did you do?!”

“Lyca, calm down.” Rui stepped in front of Haru before the werewolf could come any closer.

Haru gulped, voice trembling as he backed away from Lyca’s very prominent canine features and tried to keep his fear of dogs at bay.

“Hey, I just brought them here as they were already planning to do, big guy. No need to get aggressive!”

“I’m not aggressive!”

“You sure do look aggressive...” Haru murmured.

“Lyca, don't worry that much. Harurin is a friend, remember? He wouldn't do anything to harm anyone, much less the honor student. Chill out.” Rui said with a warning glare.

“Ye-yeah! I would never hurt them! Please don't bite me!”

Lyca's ears and tail disappeared and he looked to the side, crossing his arms and sulking.

“I wasn't gonna bite” he pouted.

“What happened to them, though?” Rui pointed at you, trying to address the elephant the in the room once again. “They look absolutely wrecked.”

“I think… the pressure of everything and especially of all the other ghouls has finally got to them. You know how some of us can be.” he shrugged.

Rui sighed, a pitying look on his face as he clenched and unclenched his fists, keeping himself from reaching out and petting your tousled hair.

“They do look exhausted.”

Haru nodded.

“They cried a lot today.”

“They cried?!” Lyca’s eyes were wide, as if you crying was something unimaginable.

“Yeah and… They probably need to talk to you guys once they wake up, so keep watch, maybe.”

“Can't we wake them up then? So they tell us what's going on?” Lyca reached his hands towards you, but Rui shook his head.

“No Lyca, let them sleep. They probably need it. Harurin, can you take them to a room upstairs? It can be the one you use when you stay over.”

“No problem!”

“I’m gonna go with you.” Lyca grumbled, following Haru’s footsteps as he swiftly made way towards the mansion's second story.

“And you.” Rui turned on his heels to face Ed and pointed at him, accusative. “You just stay here and drink your wine while I fetch some stuff for them. Don't even think about messing with them while they're sleeping.”

Ed put a hand on his chest, feigning hurt.

“You wound me, Rui. I wouldn't dare kick a poor dog that's already down.”

Rui made a disgusted sound and walked away, to the sound of Ed’s amused chuckle.

Through the thick fog that encompassed your whole being, you saw a dog.

It felt like a lifetime since you’ve last seen one. A real one. Darkwick clearly had a preference for unnaturally skilled cats (demons? You weren't sure at that point), so you never saw dogs – at least not ones with a normal snout and little beaded, bright eyes.

Maybe they weren't as dextrous? It didn't matter.

But still, you saw a dog. And it was wagging its long, fluffy tail and panting happily, as if it was overjoyed to see you, an old friend you were supposed to recognize.

You didn't see your blurred, foggy surroundings, you just saw the dog – its dark, greyish coat and bright yellow eyes, the size of a labrador. It trotted towards you, head bowed down as it showed you it meant no harm. As it got right beside your feet, it laid down and showed its belly, begging for pets.

You smiled. The dog was so happy to see you. You wonder when was the last time anyone was this happy to see you.

You crouched down in order to pet it, and it wiggled gleefully under your hands, one paw shaking as you scratched a particularly good spot. Despite yourself, you cooed, telling him how he was so cute, such a good boy, so adorable. And it loved your praise, tail wagging a mile an hour.

After a few peaceful minutes, however, it started whining. It flopped down onto its side and got up quickly, startling you out of your happy daze.

"Hey, what's wrong?" You asked, but it whimpered and curled into itself, ears flat against its head and tail tucked between its legs. It was looking over your shoulder.

Without a second thought, you twisted your torso to see what was scaring it.

All you registered is a tall, woman-like figure with limbs bent unnaturally, one huge eye surrounded by purple, blue, red and white flowers; and a mouth slit into a wide, bloody smile.

Your mind screamed for you to leave, to run, to hide. No, no, not again, not again, not again.

But you were glued in place, breath hitched inside your throat as you can't do much but take it all in all over again.

There was something different in the scenario, though.

Right in front of the woman, there was a red headed man. He turned around slowly, as if he could sense your gaze fixed upon him. His toxic green eyes lock onto your figure, disdain and anger threatening to melt your bone like acid. Copious amounts of blood soaked his face, neck and white shirt.

You finally noticed how red your surroundings looked, out of nowhere.

The dog was long gone. You were alone again.

Taiga slowly placed the barrel of his golden, glittering gun onto your forehead with a blank expression. You tried to open your mouth and yell in a desperate attempt to have him recognize you, but your whole body felt heavy like lead.

All you could feel was the cold metal of his gun touch your forehead.

The piercing pain came right after the loud gunshot.

You screamed and flailed wildly on the bed, accidentally pushing Lyca, who napped peacefully on your belly. His body flipped to the side and he fell down with a yelp, but you didn’t even register his presence. Your eyes were still sealed shut, as if the nightmare had an unyielding grasp on your conscience, dragging your body back into its torturous depths as you left claw marks on the way.

You screamed and screamed. This seems to be your thing now, apparently.

"What's wrong? Hey!” Lyca jumped up to his feet in a rush, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you with little restraint on his strength. You kept on moaning in what sounded like incredible pain, still unaware of him

“Hey! What's wrong?" he gave tiny slaps on your cheeks, hoping to bring you back to consciousness. When that didn’t work, he settled for holding your arms down in order to keep you from getting hurt, since your arms were dangerously close from knocking everything that surrounded you and the bed.

Lyca’s eyes were brimmed with tears and he looked terrified once Rui entered the room.

“They- they won’t wake up” he stuttered, voice wavering as he looked at Rui for answers “What do I do?”

Rui breathed deeply, eyes fluttering as he tried to think of a solution. You were clearly still stuck in your sleep, unable to escape whatever seemed to be haunting you in your mind.

But what could he even do? It’s not like he could come near you and try to talk you out of your stupor, when you flailed wildly, almost as if convulsing – he couldn’t risk having you accidentally touch him, no matter what.

In the blink of an eye, however, Ed appeared on your bedside, an amused smile on his face as he flicked your forehead, huffing out a laugh.

“Come back here, you silly human.” he murmured, voice laced with a mischief that was unsuitable for the situation.

With a gasp, you resurfaced - your eyes finally opened and your body relaxed under Lyca’s arms. Your eyelids fluttered and you heaved, coughing as you took in your surroundings and, especially, Lyca’s pained expression hovering over you.

“Ly…ca?” you rasped and he immediately sat back on his heels, rubbing unshed tears away from his eyes and snot from his nose.

“You scared me.” he sniffed, looking away as you massaged your temples, a throbbing headache making itself known in your skull.

“What happened? What did I do?” you frown.

“You didn’t do anything, doll.” Rui chimed in, sitting on the foot of the bed with a meek smile “You were just having a really bad nightmare and it made you thrash in your sleep. It was a bit scary to see, but it wasn’t your fault. Can’t control that type of thing.” he explained, while smoothing non-existent wrinkles on the duvet.

“Oh, I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t know, I… This type of thing never happened before.” you tried sitting up, looking at Lyca apologetically.

“The blond gigolo already said it. It wasn’t your fault.” he huffed.

You remembered bits and pieces of the nightmare, but mostly, how it made you feel - all the helplessness, the pain and the terror that had slowly built up inside you ever since you arrived at Darkwick crashed upon you like a tidal wave, leaving you no space to breathe. It felt like being pushed over the precipice of death time and time again, and revived only to suffer the same pain once more - a Promethean torture that only allowed you to think what the hell could you have done to deserve that much hurt; which god could have possibly angered so badly to deserve their rage in such a way.

You sighed, still rubbing your temples.

“I'm sorry for scaring you either way… When- when did I arrive here?”

“Harurin brought you. You were fast asleep in his arms. He mentioned you said you'd apparently come here? Is that so?”

“Oh… Yeah… Yeah, it is.” gratitude washed over your body for a moment. Haru already did so much to help you. You promised yourself you'd find a way to express your thankfulness once things went back to normal – or as normal as they could be.

“What happened, doll?” Rui snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked into his eyes, an unusual seriousness in his expression. “He told us you kinda crashed out, but said you were planning something. What is it?”

You gulped, casting down your eyes and fiddling with the fabric of your blazer, mouth opening and closing as you tried to find the words to explain the mess that was your mind.

“I… I found a way to look at some of my old social media.” You muttered, finally.

Lyca scrunched his eyebrows, shaking his head in confusion.

“What does this have to do with what's going on?”

“I didnt know I was gonna be so affected by my memories.” You shrugged. “I suddenly remembered how I had a life out there. Outside of Darkwick. I don't know… I don't how I even forgot about it. I had friends, family. People who cared about me, people I don't know if I'll ever see again.” You murmured, looking everywhere but the pity in Rui's eyes. You were so, so fucking tired of crying. Your limbs felt like they weighed a million tons.

“And it made me think.” You continued, after trying to clear your throat from the knot that seemed to be permanently there. “How badly people treat me here. You guys are the exception, obviously, and a few others but…” you shook your head “I don't know what I did to deserve being humiliated on a daily basis. I'm– I'm threatened, yelled at, insulted, hurt time and time again by people who barely act as if I'm human. I think some of them might see me as lesser than that.”

Rui opened his mouth to speak, but the words were flowing freely from your lips – sorrow finally seemed to have given away to anger and you needed to air out your grievances before they dragged you down again.

“And some of them see me as a school project. Means to an end, you know? Cure that stupid human and get this cool prize. I'm not a fucking project. I had my life. My dreams. They all act as if they're doing me a favor when all I wanted was to never have met them at all; never been through this at all.”

A beat passed, heavy in its silence.

“You regret meeting us?” Lyca's voice cut through the rage that covered your vision, and you paused.

He had his eyes downcast, a pout on his lips and a line between his eyebrows. He poked the bed, trying his best not to give in to the frown that tried to tug his lips down.

You hurt him. How great.

“No, Lyca. I'd never regret meeting you, nor many of the friends I made here.” You reached out to grab his hand, quieting his fidgeting as you squeezed it reassuringly. Lyca side eyed you with barely concealed upset. “It's true, I– I promise you. I swear. I love you guys and it's the only thing that has kept me alive so far.”

At the mention of the word “love”, Lyca's cheeks turned pink and he squirmed his hand out of your hold, embarrassed.

“You don't- don't need to exaggerate.” He murmured, scratching his cheek.

“It's true.” You smiled, before turning serious once again. “But I would be glad if I could never see some people ever again.”

“Okay, so… what is this plan Harurin mentioned then?” Rui chimed in, once again bringing back the focus.

You breathed deeply.

“I wanna give myself a break. I wanna spend some time away from them, from the people that have been hurting me. I asked Haru to bring me here because I wanted to ask if I could spend some time here in Obscuary, hidden from some of the ghouls.”

“Of course you can!” Lyca immediately jumped at your words, straightening his back. When he didn't get confirmation right away, he looked at Rui. “Right?”

“I mean… You can, but, uh. I'm not sure how it'd change anything…?”

“Change?” You tilted your head.

“Rui means: What is your goal with this?” Ed suddenly spoke. He had seated himself in a nearby armchair, quietly watching the exchange. You had basically forgotten he was there.

“What?”

“What do you plan on getting from this disappearing stunt? Apologies? Penitence? A sudden revelation from them that they love you and can't live without you?”

You scoffed.

“Have you been watching romcoms lately?”

Ed chuckled, amused.

“How do you know that? I found this website called Netflix and it's been a delight.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I could tell. No, I dont expect any of them to miss me or whatever.”

“Then…?”

“I'm just tired. I’m so tired, Rui. I wanna rest. I want some peace and quiet, without someone searching for me and dragging me to do whatever stupid task they think I gotta do. I wanna sleep in without the threat of being yelled at by some asshole that's barely older than me. I need a timeout.”

Rui pursed his lips and hummed in thought with a finger tapping his chin.

“But I bet some of them will look for you. You know how they are.”

“Just pretend you don't know anything. You haven't seen me at all. I hardly doubt anyone wants to walk through Obscuary’s forest anyway.”

“Ouch!” Rui laughed with a hand on his heart. “But well, yeah. You aren't wrong.”

“So… Can I stay? For a little while? I promise I'll help out to pay back for my stay.”

Rui was already nodding, but before he could open his mouth to agree, Ed interrupted, a lascivious smile on his lips:

“You know all your troubles would be solved if you just accepted what I offered to you back in that one mission, don't you my dear?”

A hazy, pink hued memory of Ed's whispers flashed behind your eyes: a hypnotizing hum vibrating in your bones, egging you to allow him to sink his teeth on your throat and exchange your deadly curse for his own. You shivered.

“No offense, but being tied to you for an eternity is a torture of its own. I don’t wanna exchange one torture for another.”

Ed's smile faltered for a moment, but you catched it regardless.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Rui asked, eyes wide and hypervigilant of whatever insanity Ed was referring to.

“Nothing. Your captain is just being unreasonable again.” you shook your head.

“So? Will you stay in Obscuary for real?” Lyca asked, ignoring the exchange entirely.

You looked at Rui for confirmation. He put his hands on his hips with a defeated sigh.

“Oh, honey. You know I have a weak spot for you, don't you?” he winked, back on his best host demeanor once again.

You breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping.

“Thank you, Rui. Thank you so much. I promise I won't give you trouble and will help out here as much as I can.”

Lyca suddenly grabbed your hands and leaned forward, clearly on a quest to hog all of your attention.

“Now that you're staying, come here with me. I gotta show you my new drawings!” he immediately jumped out of the bed and pulled you by your hand, taking you outside the bedroom and towards his own room.

“Lyca, they barely woke up! Be careful! And reasonable! Geez!” Rui trailed behind you, exasperation clear in his voice.

You didn't miss how Ed stayed back, still in the armchair. And a weird glint in his gaze, firmly locked onto you, is the last thing you see as you leave the room.

Comments or reblogs with tags are appreciated! Please let me know what you think of this so far

[lightsoutletsgo]

bear hugs au masterlist (cl.16 x bearman!reader)

hello loves! and welcome to the masterlist for the bear hugs au! I'm so so excited to finally be launching this officially as part of my celebration for 1k followers! you guys loved the original fic so much and have asked for part 2 and more so I decided to launch it as a full series. as always, please let me know what you think! happy reading! love mimi 🤍 thank you to @arieslost and @thebearchives for beta reading and helping me brainstorm ideas! and thank you to @scuderiahoney for teaching me how to make the collage headers! taglist : @alessioayla @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @weekendlusting if you'd like to be added either comment on this masterlist post or send me an ask!

SYNOPSIS: step into the world of you and ollie bearman and your boyfriend charles leclerc. a selection of longer fics and shorter drabbles with a sprinkling of social media chapters. not written or posted in chronological order! warnings will be posted for each individual part ˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚ ˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚ ˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚ ˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚

✧ - fics | 𐙚 - drabbles | 𓇼 - smau | ☁︎ - suggestive chapter

1. love you to the end of the line 𐙚 how ollie's and your pre-race ritual began

2. celebrity crush 𐙚 ollie learns about your crush on charles leclerc

3. season highlights 𓇼 your post for ollie after the f2 season (referenced in the original fic)

4. bear hugs (the original fic) - the one where they meet ✧ you join your brother Ollie at his first F1 race and bump into Charles

5. the one with their first date ✧ you're extremely nervous for your first date with charles. ollie plays his brother role very well and tells charles exactly what he expects of him

6. these comments are crazy 𓇼 ollie can't stand watching you and charles flirt in his comments

7. the one where they all go racing ✧ your first race weekend as a couple with charles! ft. ollie and his annoying commentary

8. the one where he should have knocked ✧ ☁︎ ollie learns he needs to knock and you learn you needs to lock the door

9. happy birthday to you 𓇼 charles and ollie's posts to you on your birthday (ft. arthur leclerc and other drivers)

10. the one where ollie lives alone ✧ four times ollie learns that he needs your help and the one time you decide enough is enough

11. *gasp* they were teammates?! 𐙚 ollie gets the call from ferrari for 2025 and now you don't know whose number to wear on race weekends

12. we may as well be parents 𐙚 arthur and ollie come to stay and you and charles feel like you're playing mom and dad to two toddlers

13. hey now, this is what dreams are made of 𐙚 you finally get to follow your dreams and ollie finally lets go

14. the prank war 𓇼 it's the bearmans vs the leclercs... who will win?

15. the one where with the ring ✧ charles asks ollie for his blessing and ollie helps charles plan a surprise you'll love. (ollie learns he’s surprisingly good at hiding and camouflage)

16. bear meet world, world meet bear 𓇼 you and charles have a new puppy and his name is... not exactly original

17. the one where there's a party ✧ its a big day for you and you're very emotional. ollie reassures you that you'll always be a bearman and puts charles to the test

18. there's a new baby bear in town 𐙚 you and charles tell ollie and arthur your exciting news

[its-avalon-08]

📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

🏎️ summary: she’s oscar piastri’s little sister — sarcastic, sharp, and completely uninterested in drivers. he’s lando norris — charming, persistent, and suddenly very interested in her. she came for oscar. she didn’t plan on falling for the one person she should’ve stayed away from.

🏎️ author's note: so this is the end of this series!! I hope you loved it because I enjoyed writing it :)) thank you to everyone who read and supported this series! do comment, like and/or reblog if possible :)) stay tuned for more updates

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, abusive relationship

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter ten: bush spies & butter hearts

“Lando,” Y/N hissed, crouched low behind a bush. “Stop breathing so loud you moron. He’ll hear us!”

“I NEED TO BREATHE, WOMAN—”

“SHHH!”

They were stuffed awkwardly behind a row of shrubs, hidden in the shadows of the candlelit garden. Fairy lights twinkled above, music playing faintly in the background. Just a few feet away, Oscar Piastri stood in front of Lily, holding her hands—his fingers trembling.

Lando leaned close, twigs in his hoodie, grass in his curls. “We could’ve picked literally any better hiding spot than the bushes. There are ANTS on me, Y/N—ANTS.”

“Shut UP,” Y/N whispered. “He’s starting.” Y/N adjusted her phone to record it well.

They both went silent as Oscar dropped to one knee. A quiet gasp echoed from Lily. The world went still.

“Lily,” Oscar began, voice softer than either of them had ever heard it. “You’ve loved me through every version of myself—even the ones that didn’t deserve it.”

Lando blinked. “Oh damn. He’s pulling out the big guns.”

Y/N smiled, teary-eyed.

Oscar continued, “You stayed. Even when I was cold. When I got mad at you for small things. When I tried to be strong instead of honest. You stayed.”

He took a deep breath.

“You’ve been the light in the hardest days, the laugh in my quietest ones. You’ve been my home.”

Y/N’s throat tightened.

“And I know I have faults, I'm not good at saying everything I feel, I shut down when I'm upset, I get overprotective—”

Y/N SNORTED.

“—But seeing you calm me down, see right from wrong. I finally understood. You’re my person.” Oscar has tears in his eyes

Lando turned to Y/N, grinning. “Is Oscar crying because if he is I am so making a sticker out of his crying face. ”

“SHUT UP,” she whispered.

“Lily Zneimer,” Oscar said, eyes glistening, “Will you marry me?”

Lily burst into tears. “Yes! Yes, yes—of course, yes!”

The small group of friends and family cheered, erupting in applause. Y/N and Lando bolted out from behind the bushes like two excited squirrels.

Lily gawked. “Were you two… in the bush? Lando you hate bugs!"

“Yes,” Y/N said proudly. “We were emotionally invested bush spies.”

-

Later that night, the garden glowed under soft lanterns and champagne bubbles. Music played as couples swayed across the dance floor. Y/N stood near the edge, sipping a drink, when Lando found her.

He held out a hand. “May I have this dance, milady?”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, sliding her hand into his. “You’re such a dork.”

“And yet, somehow, you love me.”

“More than anyone ever has.”

They swayed together, forehead to forehead, the world falling away.

“You’re still the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” she murmured.

“You still talk in your sleep.”

“You still leave your shoes everywhere.”

“You still steal my hoodies.”

“You love it,” she said.

“I do,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I love you.”

She looked up, glowing under the lights. “I remember that day in the garage. When you kissed my forehead and I almost passed out.”

“I wanted to kiss more than your forehead that day,” he smirked.

“Lando!”

“KIDDING—kind of.”

She rolled her eyes again but smiled, leaning into him. “This has been the best year of my life.”

“And you’ve been the best part of mine,” Lando said softly. “Even more than winning.”

“Wow. That’s big.”

“It’s true.”

He kissed her cheek. “I think we’re forever now.”

“We always were.”

-

At the engagement dinner the next week, Oscar raised a glass.

“To love,” he said. “The real kind. The kind that forgives. That protects. That grows. The kind that hides in bushes to support your proposal and then makes fun of you for crying.”

Laughter rippled around the room.

He looked at Y/N and Lando, his voice turning soft. “And to the people who prove me wrong—in the best way possible.”

Y/N smiled, heart full.

Lando winked at Oscar.

-

Months later. Y/N sat in the McLaren garage, watching her boyfriend win another Grand Prix. She was running a research department now. She had her dream job, her dream man, her family intact.

And beside her, Lando pulled her into his lap, whispering, “Race win kisses, please.”

“Only because you’re cute.”

He kissed her nose. “You love me.”

“I do, you moron.”

"I made you mine baby" Lando whispered.

Forever.

And ever.

taglist: @landofotographyy@doofenshmirtzevil-inc@rd14@stylesmoonlight12 @azuramicah @il0vereadingstuff @star73807-blog @sltwins@dustie-faerie @stylesmoonlight12 @lauralarsen @ayatotiddies @carey86 @hescrush @xnatqq @downsideup1989 @lilorose25@henna006@dustie-faerie@lewishamiltonismybf@ayatotiddies@carey86@hescrush@xnatqq@downsideup1989@lilorose25@henna006@formulaho@freya2005@honethatty12 @outofthegreatest @chaostudee @formula1fordisaster

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | extra: dinner date with Minho

full master list for additional installments

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 3k (part 2)

Chapter Summary: You're interrogated by 2min.

a/n: This fic will be in multiple parts because I get too impatient not to share what I’ve written so far. There will be two, possibly three installments (tag list is open).

I refer to the officers as “Officer Hyunjin”, “Officer Minho” etc just to make it quick to identify the characters. 

The whole premise is planned and explained in the fic. The story is purely fantasy, but please be mindful of content warnings, as it has potentially triggering content. I want you to be safe here on my blog.

CW: dom 2min, sex toys (various: anal and vaginal), stretch kink, harness restraints, paddles, spanking, nipple clamps, double pen same hole (toy and penis) double pen two holes (oral and vaginal), anal penetration, everything is unprotected, degradation, face slap, hair tugging, shoe on face (really quick), collar and leash, cum eating, creampie, safeguards are in place to stop everything if reader wants/needs to. Aftercare.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

Chief Chan leads you to the interrogation room himself. "Now I don't want to find out you've been insolent, you hear me? Although I know Officer's Seungmin and Detective Minho are more than capable of handling you. Go." he pushes you into the empty room, closing the door behind you and locking it.

You gulp and slowly take in the space around you. It's not a modern interrogation room. It looks like a morgue. The brick walls are cold and gray, the concrete under your bare feet is filthy. You're not sure what the dark stains that are splattered around the place are either, and you try not to think the worst. This isn't real. You remind yourself.

In the center of the room is a stainless steel table. Beside it a stainless steel trolley, with what appears to be dildos, straps, and various other paraphernalia, and - oh fuck - a paddle hanging from a hook on the side. The entire room is illuminated, barely, by a single naked globe hanging from the concrete ceiling above.

There are no chairs, nowhere for questioning to occur, but you have a sneaking suspicion that you'll be on that cold, hard slab of a table very soon.

You hear the door unlock and your heart pounds loudly. Fuck. This is it. You take a deep, grounding breath as you watch Officer Seungmin and Detective Minho enter the room.

"On your knees, pup." Seungmin spits, immediately shoving you to the ground and pushing the sole of his combat boot into your cheek. Your face presses against the disgusting concrete. He doesn't push harder than he needs to, but just the act itself makes you feel so small, helpless and filthy.

You sense the Detective walk over to the trolley, then back towards you, leaning over you and placing a leather collar and leash around your neck. Suengmin removes his boot, and Minho tugs you up until you're on your knees.

"Look at this pathetic little bitch." Minho leans over you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Someone has been a very bad little girl." He scolds. "And we're going to find out exactly what you're keeping from us." He smirks evilly.

"Up." Suengmin barks, from behind you, taking the leash from Minho and yanking on it until you're standing in front of him. He presses his body against your back, breathing in your ear menacingly, making you shudder. He snakes a hand up underneath the hem of your oversized shirt, the only thing you're wearing, and slides his fingers through your folds. "This is gonna be so much fun." he chuckles low. "Up on the table." he slaps you hard on the ass.

The table is barely big enough to fit you, and you realize it's designed so two people can access you easily from either end. You're instructed to kneel on all fours, with your feet almost hanging off one end, and your head extending precariously over the other end, so you get another view of the filthy floor.

Minho picks up a pair of metal scissors and your eyes widen as he cuts your clothing and rips it off you so you are naked and bare for them. Then you’re adorned with a ball gag with attached nipple clamps.

"We can't have you being a brat. We don't need you to say a word for us to get what we want from you." Seungmin says, as he secures the clamps tightly to your nipples. The sensation of your nipples being pinched sends a spark of arousal to your cunt and you immediately feel yourself becoming moist.

"Here. Keep this in your hand." Minho places a small device in your palm. "Press this button and everything stops immediately. You understand?" he says quietly looking into your eyes. You nod. Once he's certain you understand, he’s back in character.

The two men take their time circling you, taking you in, deciding how they are going to proceed. They look dominating, cold, mean. They start to touch you, stroke your body, your back, the backs of your thighs. All with villainous smirks plastered on their beautiful faces.

“Let’s start with a punishment.” Minho decides, grabbing the paddle.

Your eyes widen and you try to swallow, but it’s so hard with the ball gag in your mouth, and you brace yourself as he settles behind you. The impact of the paddle takes you by surprise, making you cry out a muffled sob. Again, Minho brings the paddle to your fleshy ass cheek with a loud slap. You drop your head and squeeze your eyes closed. It fucking stings, but at the same time your cunt throbs. How can this hurt so much yet feel so arousing?

Minho soothes the skin with the palm of his hand before delivering another hit. You grip onto the edge of the steel table with your free hand, while trying to stabilize yourself with the hand that’s holding your safety device. 

Another round of paddling ensues, and you’ve lost count of how many you’ve taken. Your ass feels red raw, and the tears are running freely down your face. You feel pathetic, useless, helpless. No one’s ever been able to make you feel this way before. You’ve finally found what you’ve been looking for.

“Enough.” Seungmin raises his hand signaling for Minho to stop. “Let me inspect.” he moves behind you to marvel at his partner’s work. “Fuck. Look how red she is.” He runs his palm over your red cheek and you wince. “Shh… Now now.” Suengmin purrs, but there is absolutely no hint of concern in his tone. “We haven’t even gotten started. That was just punishment for making our cocks so hard.”

You drop onto your elbows, already exhausted from “just the punishment”, and sob. Seungmin crouches in front of you and lifts your head so you’re looking directly into his cold eyes. “Hey, Pup.” He slaps your cheek, hard. The sting makes you feel more alert. “Minho’s going to do his probing now.” He raises an eyebrow. “And you’re going to be an obedient little pup and take. Every. Single. Inch.”

Your stomach drops, and you feel your juices leak from your cunt. The anticipation, the fear, the excitement of what is unfolding has your heart racing. 

Suengmin stands back up and leans against the wall to watch Minho, whom you can hear rustling around at the trolley. You hear the sound of a bottle opening and closing. Then with one hand holding your hip steady, he presses a solid, cold, lubed object against your vaginal entrance. 

“It’s just a dildo. Nothing to be scared of. Deep breath through your nose.” he commands and pushes the dildo into your cunt. The stretch feels good and you wonder why on earth you were fearful. It feels regular sized. He fucks you with it for a few minutes, until your hips are rocking back and you’re arching your back in a such away it makes their cocks throb. 

“Seungmin, come help hold her steady.” He instructs his partner, and he is at your side helping hold your hips still. You whine in protest around the gag, and then you feel Minho press the dildo in further. Your eyes almost pop out of your head and your whole body tenses, when you're abruptly spread twice as wide. You feel like you’re being ripped in two as you realize the dildo has a bulbous base. The tip now presses hard into your cervix as your opening is being stretched obscenely wide. You’re so full. You feel so full. 

“Suengmin, fuck look at how much she stretches. She’s gonna look good when two cocks are inside that slutty little cunt.” Minho declares.

“Fucking slut.” Seungmin says in a disgusted tone.

“She has to take more.” Minho says flatly, reaching for something from the trolley, and then another lubed object presses against your ass. You try to squirm to no avail, and cry out when a hand slaps you on your sore, red cheek. “Sluts have to behave themselves or they will regret it.” Suengmin warns.

You pause and try to relax as Minho pushes the device past the tight ring of muscle. “I don’t know why you’re squirming? This is just to prep you. You’re gonna have to take a much bigger one shortly.” he advises.

He’s right. After torturing your ass with increasingly bigger devices, he is ready to insert the “big” one. It’s thick and it feels endless, reaching places no one, or thing, has ever reached before. You can hardly hold yourself up, and you’re on the verge of what you can tell will be an earth shattering orgasm. You are scared. You’re not allowed to come without permission, and part of you thinks that maybe you won’t be given permission at all. Although, you are sure that they will rip at least one from you before this interrogation is over. All so they’ll have a reason to punish you further.

Minho, silently works on fucking your ass and cunt with the two oversized devices until you are a fucking mess. You can’t keep it contained any longer and a brutally intense orgasm hits you so hard you shake uncontrollably and almost slip entirely off the table.

“Fucking whore!” Growled Seungmin. “Who told you you could come?” he came around to the front and tugged your head up by your hair. “You just want us to punish you more, don’t you? Well. That’s exactly what you’re gonna get." He lets go of your head abruptly, and removes your ball gag, resecuring it around your neck with your collar. You can finally breathe properly and you start to cry.

“No. No one said you can cry. We haven’t given you anything to cry about yet.” Snarls Seungmin.

The dildos are removed and you’re repositioned onto your back, your knees thankful for the relief. But this new position isn’t any more comfortable. The table, being so short in length, means your head hangs over the edge, whilst you have no option to fold your legs up because your ass comes to the other edge. Perfect for what is about to happen.

Your legs are strapped with leather restraints to keep legs bent and folded towards your chest and your wrists are cuffed and attached to ankle restraints. You’re essentially folded in half and spread open, with no way of moving, and for them to do whatever they please. The little alarm buzzer is placed in your hand for safekeeping.

You see Minho in your upside down vision, unbuckling his belt and releasing his cock. Your mouth waters at the memory of taking him down your throat just a few hours before, and you are more than pleased when he approaches you. “Open up, time to be fed again.” he holds your face steady as he slides his cock all the way into your throat. You can take him a lot easier in this position, and he uses it to his advantage, fucking your face rough and deep. He doesn’t care that you’re gagging, or that you can’t breathe when he pushes his entire cock in and stills. He pulls out, letting you fill your lungs, and then he’s back inside cutting the air off. 

You squeak when you feel something cold, slimy and flexible being squeezed into your pussy. Minho pulls out. “Wanna see what Seungmin’s doing?” He taunts. He supports your head as you lift yourself and look down at your pussy. Seungmin is holding what looks to be a silicone or rubber snake-like device. It’s about an inch and half in diameter and so fucking long. Maybe three feet long? Your eyes widen. “Don’t be so alarmed. He’s not gonna stuff the entire thing inside you.” sneers Minho. “Now, back to being a cockslut.” he drops your head back down and resumes fucking your face.

All you’re imagining though, is Seungmin pushing more and more of that - was it a snake? A hose? Fuck, is it even a sex toy or is it some random thing from the hardware store? - into your cunt.

“Yup, that’s as far as it's gonna go.” Sighs Seungmin. It’s deep, but not filling you out too much, not like that monstrous dildo from earlier. Until you feel the tip of his cock pushing in alongside it. Minho, as if pre-empting your protests, holds you by your neck keeping you steady and deliberately fucks you hard and fast. “You’re gonna take it, kitten. Everything.” he hisses. 

You can’t cry. You can’t scream. You can only take what they are giving you. Your throat hurts, but Minho doesn’t seem like he’s going to tire anytime soon. 

Once Seungmin is fully inside you, he starts to thrust, building up the pace quickly. You’re so wet and stretched already that it doesn’t take long for your walls to adjust to him. The men fuck both ends of your body, using you like a fleshlight. Growling, grunting, making sounds of approval as you simply lay there and take it.

“I wanna fucking come in her mouth.” states Seungmin. 

They pull out of you simultaneously, leaving you gasping and gaping. You’re so empty, even with that fucking snake situation still in your cunt.

Your mouth is filled first, with Seungmin sinking into you. You can taste your juices coating his cock, mixed with lube. Like earlier in the cell, Seungmin is rougher, more erratic with his thrusts than Minho, and you gag much more as he fucks you. He runs his hands along your body then squeezes both your breasts hard. You arch off the table as he tugs on the nipple clamps. You moan around Seungmin, who must not have been expecting it, and he cums down your throat with a “how dare you, you fucking slut.”

You’re secretly satisfied as you swallow him down. “You still need your mouth stuffed. I don’t want to hear you and your pathetic little whines.” he finds the other end of his ‘snake-friend’, and starts to shove it into your mouth. He pulls some sort of extension out from the table, a headrest, so you don’t have to keep dangling your neck. How thoughtful.

Minho lubes himself up and presses himself to your anus, pushing in the entire way. He fills you so good. He pulls out halfway and thrusts back in, and it’s too much. You come again. You know they see you quivering, and they’re not happy. 

“Just keep fucking her, Minho. Might as well just force her to come over and over at this point. Until she begs us to stop. Oh wait. Her mouth’s full, she won’t be able to. Shame.” The Officer laughs.

Minho doubles down, on a mission to rip as many orgasms out of you as he can, overstimulating you in the process. How much can you take before you need to hit your safety alarm? You’re determined not to. You want to take everything. Minho grasps the snake dildo and tries to jam more of it into you, but it won’t fit, and you cry out.

“Fuck, I’m hard again. Haven’t you even blown yet?” Seungmin looks to Minho in disbelief. 

“Course I fucking have, but I’m not done, bitch feels too fucking good. Gotta fuck my cum deep into her, y’know.” he grunts. He reaches out to grab yet another device, this time a small vibrator and presses it onto your clit. “Fucking come, kitten.” He growls.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you convulse as you come again. Minho doesn’t stop, he continues to fuck into your ass, still hard as stone, turning you into a sobbing, overstimulated wreck.

“Again.” he pushes the vibrator harder against you with one hand and attempts to fuck you with the snake dildo, all whilst not missing a beat with his thrusts.

Where the fuck Seungmin gone you had no idea. Until you feel him tightening your nipple clamps and then pulling out the snake and replacing it with his cock.

“The detective said ‘come again’, pup.” He thrusts into your mouth and fills you with his cum again. He pulls out and wipes some on your cheek. 

One final time, you come, trembling on the table, the straps and restraints dig into your skin as you fight against your restraints. You can’t possibly take any more. They seem to know too.

Minho pulls out, and you wonder if he even came a second time. You manage a glance at his cock and it looks painfully hard, and you’re not sure why he just didn’t use you until he came again.

He pushes your cheeks wide, spreading your holes and sighs when you feel cum dribble out. He slips an anal plug in to keep the rest inside you.

The straps, restraints, chains, clamps are all removed from you carefully and you’re cleaned with warm, wet towels from a cabinet under the table.

Seungmin applies cream to soothe where you were spanked, and helps you put on a fresh oversized button down shirt, and Minho carries you bridal-style back to your cell. You nuzzle your head against him and close your eyes. You’re absolutely exhausted. He enters your cell and places you down on the mattress, pulling a blanket over you. Such a contrast to the treatment just before.

“Detective?” You whisper, looking up at him. “You didn’t get to finish.” you say in a small voice.

He shrugs. “That back there wasn’t about me.” He half smiles. “It was about satisfying you.” 

“But what if finishing you off would satisfy me even more?” You ask.

“You need your rest.” He grunts, ignoring your advances, tucking the blanket around your chin.

“It’ll help me sleep.” You plead.

“Fuck!” He sighs and looks up to the ceiling. “Where do you want my cock then, kitten?”

“In my cunt.” You purr.

He swallows hard. “Fine.” he concedes. “But -  I come inside, and you gotta keep it safe in your tight little pussy. Got it?”

You nod fervently, lifting the blanket that he’d just tucked you snugly in, and let him slide on top of you. He removes his shirt and undoes his pants with nimble fingers and frees his cock, then grips your thigh, pushing it wide and grinding against your sore core.

“Will you kiss me, detective?” You gaze up at him. 

“I don’t do kissing on the mouth.” He says flatly.

He sees you pout around that.

“I can kiss your neck. If that’s what you want.”

“Please.” you wrap your hands about his neck as he hovers over you, peppering kisses to your neck, and sucking the skin while he fucks you slow, but extra hard. You feel so full with the anal plug still in your ass. “You’re so tight, bet you’re tender? Am I hurting you?” He whispers. 

“Feels good.” you mewl. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum real soon. Can I fuck you evenharder?” He chokes.

“Yes.” you sigh, letting him take what he needs from you.

“I’m coming…ngh…fuck.” he thrusts his hips three more times then you feel him empty himself inside you. “Keep it in there for me.” He plants a peck on your forehead and pulls out carefully.

You’re asleep before he even leaves the cell.

🚨🚨🚨🚨

↣↣ Next up: you’re taken in your sleep by Hyunjin and Han

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[thedemoninme141]

The Maiden Of Death Part 3

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Wordcount: 9K-ish

Part 1 -- Part 2-- Part 3--Part 4--Part 5

Summary: Wednesday finally gets a glimpse of your power.

Warnings: Wednesday starting to fall? JelousWednesday! Everyone loves Enid.

(Author's note: This is a very long chapter, and ALOT OF THINGS happens in this chapter, and also had to change some things here and there which is why it took me a lot of thinking and time writing, so any feedback will be helpful!)

As Wednesday entered the quad during Lunch period, her gaze immediately fell on her usual table, where Enid was enthusiastically gesturing as she spoke to—you.

Eugene sat on one corner of the table, Enid said something particularly exuberant, causing you to stiffen visibly. Eugene, in turn, shot Enid a panicked look that screamed, Please stop talking before you get us all killed.

As Wednesday reached the table and took her seat across from you without a word, her gaze landing on Enid, who greeted her with a wide smile.

“Hey, Wednesday! Guess what?!” Enid began, her excitement practically vibrating off her.

“I would rather not,” Wednesday replied flatly.

Enid turned her attention back to you. “So, like I was saying, the Poe Cup is coming up, and I’ve been thinking—Last year we barely won but it’s time we totally crush Bianca’s team this year. And you, Y/N, would be perfect for—”

You didn’t bother looking up from your plate. “No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!” Enid said, huffing dramatically but quickly recovering with a smile. “Okay, but seriously, you’d be perfect. We need someone like you—someone who can strategize and, you know, scare people."

“I don’t care.” Your tone was sharp enough to cut, but Enid either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it.

“Come on! You and Wednesday on the same team would be unstoppable! Seriously, we could destroy Bianca. She wouldn’t stand a chance!” Enid leaned closer to you, her smile widening as if sheer enthusiasm could wear down your resistance.

“Let me clarify,” you said, your focus still on your plate. “No. As in, absolutely not. As in, I’d rather eat broken glass than subject myself to whatever nonsense you have planned.”

Eugene shifted uncomfortably in his seat, darting a glance between you and Enid like he was bracing for an explosion.

“That was a bit harsh, But I promise you’re gonna love it once you try it!” Enid barreled on, her voice impossibly cheerful. “And imagine—Wednesday and Y/N! You’d wipe the floor with everyone.”

You set your utensils down with a quiet clink, turning to Enid with a gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “Do you ever stop to think before you speak?” you asked coldly, your tone a knife's edge. “Or is it your entire personality to be this relentlessly irritating?”

Enid blinked, her smile faltering for just a moment before she recovered. “Wow, okay, someone’s cranky. But I get it! You’re under a lot of pressure or whatever.”

“Pressure has nothing to do with it,” you replied, your tone colder still. “You’re insufferable. You don’t listen, you don’t think, and you certainly don’t understand the concept of personal boundaries. Take a hint: I’m not interested in whatever childish game you’re dragging me into.”

Enid’s bright demeanor faltered, her smile slowly dying... The table fell silent. Even Wednesday, who often found Enid’s enthusiasm grating, felt an unexpected pang at the harshness of your words.

But Enid didn’t retreat. Instead, she tilted her head as she unleashed her ultimate weapon.

The puppy eyes.

“Well,” Enid said after a beat, her voice quieter and sadder. “That’s a really mean thing to say. But I’m not giving up. Because deep down, I think you’re not as awful as you want people to think.”

You stared at her, unblinking, as though calculating the odds of her ever leaving you alone. Wednesday found herself watching the exchange with acute interest, her gaze flicking between you and Enid.

Wednesday stiffened. Even she wasn’t immune to Enid’s maddeningly effective weapon. She braced herself for your response, curious to see if you’d succumb.

You let out a tired sigh. “Fine,” you said at last, your voice heavy with exasperation. “I’ll join your team. Just stop talking so I can eat in peace.”

Enid let out an excited squeal and, before you could react, threw her arms around you in a side hug. You froze completely, your body going rigid as though you’d been petrified on the spot.

Wednesday felt something shift in her chest—a faint, unpleasant pang that she quickly dismissed as indigestion. Her fingers tightened around her fork as she watched Enid cling to you, her head resting against your shoulder...

You didn’t push her away, but your voice was low and measured as you began counting down. “Three… two…”

Enid immediately released you, sitting back with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sorry! I just got excited. Thank you so much for agreeing, though! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

"I already do." You muttered, returning your attention to your plate with the same calm indifference you always exuded. But Wednesday caught the faintest flicker of something in your eyes—a weariness, perhaps, or a resignation you couldn’t quite mask.

Enid, oblivious as ever, turned her attention back to Wednesday. “Isn’t this great, Wens? With Y/N on our team, we’re totally going to win this year!”

Wednesday didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she studied you for a moment longer, her mind churning with thoughts she couldn’t fully articulate. Finally, she turned back to her own meal.

"We will see." She said, still feeling something unrecognizable. Whatever it was, she would not allow it to distract her. Not now, not tonight. Behind the greenhouse. After the sun falls. You had given her a directive, and she intended to follow it, not out of curiosity, of course, but because she refused to let you maintain the upper hand.

After the rest of the classes ended, Wednesday found herself in a disconcerting state of reflection. The day's events gnawed at her, though she maintained her usual stoic demeanor. Your words echoed in her mind, sharp and cutting, like the blade you so clearly wielded with mastery.

"You’re not worth wasting my time."

Though she would never admit it aloud, those words struck her. A part of her dismissed them—what could you possibly know of her worth? But another part, the one she rarely let surface, couldn’t help but dwell on the sting.

Wednesday Addams had faced monsters, both literal and metaphorical, yet here she was, feeling... unsettled. Not afraid. No, Wednesday Addams was never afraid. But the thought of meeting you, alone, made her feel something she couldn't entirely recognize.

She briefly considered informing Enid of her impending meeting with you. Not out of fear, of course. Fear was an emotion beneath her. It was a matter of logic, of ensuring someone knew her whereabouts. But as soon as the idea formed, she discarded it. No, involving Enid would complicate matters, and the thought of explaining herself to her overenthusiastic roommate was unbearable.

Instead, she opted for a more discreet confidant.

“You’re to keep an eye on the time,” she instructed Thing, her voice even but firm. “If I’m not back by ten, assume the worst.”

Thing’s fingers scrambled into a questioning gesture.

“Do not be ridiculous,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “I am not afraid. Merely cautious.”

Thing’s tapping turned into a sarcastic drumroll, but Wednesday ignored him, brushing past to retrieve her coat.

The path to the greenhouse was empty, obviously no one would be out here at this time.

As she rounded the corner, she spotted you immediately. You were seated on the ground, your back against the glass wall of the greenhouse. A katana rested beside you, the blade gleaming faintly in the dimming light.

Did you summon it? Wednesday wondered.

You looked up as she approached, your gaze steady and unreadable. “You’re on time.”

Wednesday ignored the comment, her eyes flicking to the katana. “Are you finally going to show me?”

"Katana techniques aren’t something you can master by watching. It requires precision and patience, I know you fought some old wizard, but I highly doubt that would be enough."

Wednesday’s expression hardened. "That 'old wizard' was Crackstone."

“And?” Your tone was flat, unimpressed, as if the name meant nothing.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. What do I need to do first?”

You reached down and picked up the katana beside you, holding it out for her. Wednesday accepted the sword with both hands, one curling around the scabber and the other around the handle. It was heavier than she expected—not unmanageable, but noticeable. Still, she adjusted quickly, refusing to let any hesitation show.

She stood, focusing on the sword, attempting to summon a vision. She hoped for even a glimpse of your history, your purpose, your motives. Nothing. The blade remained silent in her hands, its secrets as tightly guarded as yours.

Her reverie was broken by your voice. “Do you know how to unsheathe it without losing your fingers?”

Wednesday met your gaze, her tone sharp. “Of course. Just because I haven’t fought with a katana doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of its basics.” She demonstrated, flawlessly unsheathing the sword with a precise motion.

For a moment, she paused, her gaze lingering on the blade. Its sharp edge felt almost hypnotic.

“Now sheathe it again,” you instructed.

Wednesday hesitated, the command catching her off guard. “I just took it out,” she muttered annoyed.

Still, she attempted to comply, but the process proved unexpectedly awkward. She struggled to align the blade with the scabbard, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy. She half-expected you to smirk or make a biting comment, but your expression remained impassive, devoid of mockery.

Instead, you conjured your own katana, the same one she had seen in the Nightshade Library, and unsheathed it with effortless grace. “Watch,” you said simply. With practiced ease, you demonstrated the technique for resheathing the sword, pushing the scabbard forward while maintaining balance.

Wednesday observed intently, her sharp mind immediately grasping the mechanics. “I see,” she murmured, attempting the motion again. This time, her execution was far smoother, and the blade slid into place with satisfying precision.

“Good,” you said, your voice still emotionless.

From there, the lesson progressed. You guided her through a series of foundational techniques, demonstrating precise footwork and the fluidity required to wield the katana effectively. Your movements were deliberate, almost mesmerizing in their precision, and Wednesday found herself silently admiring your mastery. She didn’t smile. She didn’t laugh. But she felt something.... something she felt while grave digging... is this what Enid called... "fun"?

Still, she kept her expression neutral, unwilling to give you the satisfaction of knowing she was... pleased by this... would you even care if you knew?

By the end, her muscles ached pleasantly, but her mind was sharper than ever. She sheathed the katana with practiced ease, turning to you as you prepared to leave.

“Here,” she said, holding out the weapon.

You took it, and as soon as it was in your hands, both katanas vanished into thin air. Wednesday’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing.

As you turned to leave without any , she felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of dissatisfaction. This wasn’t enough. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “Wait.”

You paused, glancing back over your shoulder. “What is it?”

She struggled for a moment, the words eluding her. Finally, she asked, “Why did you agree to show me these techniques?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you looked at her with that same unreadable expression. “Goodnight, Wednesday,” you said, your voice softer than she expected.

You turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. It wasn’t until you had disappeared into the shadows that she realized something—this was the first time you had used her name. And for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it mattered.

As Wednesday pushed open the door to her shared dorm, her eyes went to Enid sprawled across her bed as she animatedly whispered to Thing, who was perched on her pillow like her sidekick.

As she stepped further into the room, she felt Enid’s gaze snap to her. It tracked her every step, as though waiting for some kind of confirmation.

“What?” Wednesday snapped, her tone as sharp as a blade.

Enid sat up, crossing her legs and hugging a pillow to her chest, a smug little smile spreading across her face. “Nothing,” she replied, her tone far too innocent to be genuine. “Absolutely nothing.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes, peeling off her coat and hanging it neatly on its hook. “You’re staring at me."

Enid gasped, her hand flying to her chest in mock offense. “Staring? Me? No! I’m just... thinking."

"Thinking what, exactly?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Enid drawled, leaning forward with a grin that only grew wider with each passing second. “Maybe observing how you’ve been spending an unusual amount of time with a certain someone lately?”

Wednesday stiffened, her fingers pausing mid-motion as she adjusted the lace cuffs of her shirt. “I have no idea what you’re babbling about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Enid said with a giggle, hugging the pillow tighter.

“Choose your next words carefully, Enid.”

“What were you doing with Y/N?” Enid sat up straighter, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.

Wednesday’s brow twitched. “That is none of your concern.”

“See, now you’re making it sound suspicious,” Enid teased, her grin widening. “Were you two, like, out in the woods doing something spooky? Summoning ghosts? Practicing dark magic? Or was it something more... romantic?”

Wednesday’s glare deepened. “Romantic?” she repeated, “Do you genuinely believe I would waste my time on such frivolity?”

“Well, I mean,” Enid said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “you do waste your time digging up graves"

Wednesday ignored her as she walked out to the balcony. She needed air. She needed quiet. She needed to expel whatever it was that Enid’s incessant prattling had stirred within her.

The cello waited in its usual spot.

Without hesitation, Wednesday settled into her chair, the bow fitting naturally into her hand. She began to play.

The bartender wiped down the counter with practiced ease. His face was friendly, his demeanor warm as he smiled at the hooded girl sitting before him.

“Yeah, I get it,” he said, his tone easy and warm. “Sometimes we need some alone time away from family.”

The customer remained silent, her head tilted downward.

As Wednesday’s fingers danced over the cello strings, her mind drifted. She hadn’t meant to think of you, but it was impossible not to. The memory of your eyes, a depth that hid so much.

Why did you haunt her so? There was a quiet pain in your gaze, a barrier that dared anyone to come closer. What had happened to you? What had made you so guarded, so indifferent to the world?

The bartender smiled as he wiped a glass, his voice light. “You know, I love my family too. Even when they drive me insane.” He chuckled, setting the glass down. “Wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

Wednesday’s music swelled again, the melody turning wistful. How could she know more about you? Was it even possible?

The bartender glanced around the empty bar, shrugging. “It’s pretty quiet here this time of night. Honestly, I feel more like I’m on guard duty than actually working. Not that I’m complaining—it’s nice to have a slow shift every now and then.”

Wednesday’s bow trembled slightly, though her playing remained flawless. Her thoughts shifted, unwillingly, to you again. She couldn’t shake the questions that gnawed at her. Your precision, your coldness, the way you had spoken to her and yet spared her just enough... that made her understand, there was more to you than you allowed anyone to see.

The bartender leaned closer, his elbows on the counter. “Yeah, no, I get it totally. We all make mistakes. We’re human at the end of the day.”

The customer let out a low chuckle that seemed to echo unnaturally in the small space. It sent an involuntary shiver down the bartender’s spine.

“Are you?” the customer asked, her voice smooth yet chilling.

The bartender blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

The customer slid a card across the counter. His breath hitched the moment his eyes landed on it.

“Are you human?” she repeated, her tone dangerously calm.

As the final note hung in the air, fading into the night, she exhaled slowly, setting the bow down with measured care. The music hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped. The unease was still there, coiled in her chest, lingering like a shadow that refused to leave.

Still, one thing was clear. Whatever this was, whatever you were, it wasn’t over.

Finally, she set the cello aside, her movements slower than usual, weighed down by an exhaustion she couldn’t name.

When sleep finally claimed her, it brought something.

Fire. It was everywhere.

And Wednesday was standing right where she fought Crackstone last year.

Enid’s scream, filled with desperation. “Y/N, no!”

The flames seemed to dance around you, as if you were their master rather than their victim. For a moment, you turned your gaze toward her, your eyes, darker... souless.. and then you nodded at Wednesday... as if.. thanking her.

"I know what I have to do now." you said.

The scene shattered like glass, and Wednesday jolted awake, her chest heaving as she sat up in bed. The room was still dark, the faint light of dawn just beginning to creep through the window.

Her fingers curled into the sheets as she struggled to steady her breathing. Dreams were not foreign to her, but this... this was different. It had felt too vivid, too real.

Was it a vision? No. Her visions came with a sharp, distinct pain, an undeniable clarity that marked them as something more than mere dreams. But this... it was murky, fragmented, like a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

She exhaled quietly, watching as the darkness outside softened with the rising sun. What were you? That question gnawed at her, more relentless than any puzzle she’d faced before. You didn’t fit neatly into any category of person she’d encountered. Why did her mind seem so determined to orbit around you?

Wednesday despised the thought of being consumed by anyone or anything, yet here she was, watching the sun rise while her thoughts were plagued by you.

She rose from her bed without making a sound and slipped into her black uniform.

Enid stirred in her bed, her sleepy form stretching lazily beneath her colorful blankets.

“Morning, Wends,” she mumbled.

Wednesday grabbed her coat and headed for the door without sparing her roommate a glance. The door clicked shut behind her before Enid could say anything more.

By the time she reached the quad, the space was still empty. Most students were still tucked away in their dorms, waiting for the breakfast bell to draw them out.

But her eyes found you.

You were sitting beneath a large tree at the far end of the quad, your back against the trunk, your eyes were closed, your features relaxed in a way she had never seen before. You seemed... at peace? It was unsettling to see you like this, so different from the guarded, vigilant person she’d encountered before. This version of you felt unfamiliar, almost vulnerable.

For a moment, she hesitated, her boots rooted to the ground as she watched you from afar. Why was she hesitating? Wednesday Addams didn’t hesitate. She was decisive, certain, unflinching. Yet here she was, caught in some inexplicable limbo. It infuriated her.

Finally, she forced herself to step forward. Each step felt heavier than it should, as though an invisible force was pulling her back. By the time she was only a few steps away from you, your eyes opened.

You looked directly at her.

Wednesday froze. The intensity of your gaze was unsettling, not because it was intimidating, but because it was so direct, so unflinching. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching taut between you.

“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice low and even.

Wednesday blinked, her composure snapping back into place like a well-worn mask. “I could ask you the same question.”

You regarded her for a moment, then shifted slightly against the tree. “Resting,” you said simply. “Breakfast isn’t ready yet.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “And I suppose you decided that lying on cold earth was preferable to staying in your dorm?”

You shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

Wednesday didn’t have a retort for that. She understood the value of silence more than anyone.

You studied her now, and she hated the way it made her feel. Like you were seeing something she hadn’t meant to show. “You don’t seem like the morning exercise type,” you finally said.

“I woke up early,” was all Wednesday offered.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t push. You didn’t even invite her to sit, which was something she had somehow expected.

She frowned at herself. Why did she expect that? You weren’t the kind of person who invited anyone to sit beside you, and Wednesday certainly wasn’t someone you would extend such an offer to. She wasn’t special in your eyes, nor should she be.

The realization irritated her more than it should have.

The silence between you stretched, not awkward but Wednesday won't call it comfortable either. “Do you want to spar today?” she asked.

You blinked at her, then nodded.

She almost wished you had asked why. Maybe then she could figure out the answer herself.

Her mind drifted back to the dream. You had always been dark, just like her. But in the dream, it was different. You were worse. Your eyes weren’t yours.

She exhaled, not realizing she had until the sound broke the quiet.

You noticed immediately, your brow furrowing as you turned back to her.

“Something on your mind?” you asked, your tone cautious.

Wednesday straightened, her mind scrambling for a response. She couldn’t tell you about the dream, not yet. She needed more time to understand it herself. Instead, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Poe Cup.”

You frowned, tilting your head slightly. “What about it?”

“Since you and I are on the same team, I thought you should know more about it,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “It’s a simple boat race that lacks bound rules to keep the students from harming each other. That’s all I need to know. Works fine for me.”

Wednesday smirked, a small, fleeting expression that you might have missed if you hadn’t been paying attention. You had no idea about the costumes. The mandatory, humiliating black cat ensemble that had tortured her the first time she’d participated. It was only fair that you endured the same indignity. She decided then and there not to tell you about it. Let it be a surprise.

The quad was beginning to fill now, “You should join me for breakfast.”

You raised a brow at her.

She added, “Enid will drag you there anyway. It will save you the effort.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, following her as the two of you made your way toward the dining hall.

And Wednesday, for reasons she refused to name, felt a little more at ease.

Wednesday had expected you to leave.

As she sat on the bench, you settled across from her, your posture as composed as ever, shoulders relaxed but gaze sharp, always aware. She observed you from the corner of her eye, waiting for that moment where you'd inevitably get up, bored of the company. But you didn’t move.

You stayed.

That was new.

"Oh my god!" Enid's half yell pulled Wednesday from her thoughts.

“You’re sitting here willingly,” Enid launched herself to the seat beside you, grinning wide as she nudged your arm. “By yourself. No threats, no bribery, no blackmail—at least, I don’t think Wednesday blackmailed you. That’s progress, right?”

You merely hummed, not confirming nor denying anything.

Enid let out a dramatic gasp. “That was almost a response. Oh, we are making so much progress.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Must you be so insufferable this early in every morning?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Enid shot back, flashing her a grin before turning her attention back to you. “You should sit with us more often. Now that we are a team!"

Before you could respond—not that you looked like you were going to—another voice cut in.

Bianca.

“So this is where the brooding duo gathers now?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

Enid turned to her, smirking. “Oh, come on, B. You’re just mad because Y/N’s on my team. You’re so screwed.”

Wednesday caught the way Bianca’s eyes narrowed, assessing. You, however, didn’t even acknowledge her. Not a glance. Not a shift in posture. Nothing. Bianca didn’t seem sure whether to be annoyed or impressed.

“Huh,” she muttered, tilting her head. “Guess it’ll be fun to have a challenge for once.”

Wednesday smirked, her voice dry as she leaned forward just slightly. “And lose badly again?”

Bianca shot her a glare, but before she could retort, another voice joined the conversation.

Xavier.

“Uh… morning,” Xavier said, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze flickered to you, but you still didn’t acknowledge him. He swallowed. “Mind if I join?”

“You’re asking that after joining in without permission,” Wednesday said flatly.

Xavier hesitated, then sat beside Bianca, opposite Enid. He looked like he wanted to say something to you but wisely decided against it.

Understandable. He was still shaken after whatever had happened during his last encounter with you.

Then came Eugene, who looked like he regretted his decision the moment he saw how crowded it had become—especially when his eyes landed on you.

He hesitated, clearly debating whether he should turn back. He probably would have, had Enid not noticed him first.

“Eugene!” she called out, “Come sit!”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath before reluctantly shuffling over.

And to make matters worse—for him, at least—the only available seat was right beside Wednesday. Which, unfortunately, placed him directly across from you. He slid into the empty spot, making sure to position himself as far from you as possible.

Trying to lighten the mood, Xavier leaned forward, his attention shifting to you.

“So, Y/N,” he started, flashing a small grin. “We barely know anything about you. What’s your deal? Hobbies? Interests? Are you into art? Music?”

You said nothing.

Xavier tried again. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that gets you to loosen up a little.”

Silence.

Wednesday saw it then—the faintest flicker of amusement in your eyes, but it was at Xavier’s expense. You weren’t entertained by his charm. You were entertained by his failure.

Enid snickered. “Damn, Xavier, she hates you.”

Xavier groaned, throwing his hands up. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“More like failing to be friendly.” Bianca corrected, smirking.

Wednesday scowled. She didn’t like this. The way Xavier was blatantly trying to get your attention, the way he was—pathetically—trying to get a reaction out of you. And she especially didn’t like that, for a second, you looked... entertained.

Before she could dwell on it further, Yoko arrived, sliding onto the bench with her usual laid-back energy. “Wow,” she remarked, surveying the table. “This is a weird mix of people.”

Wednesday half expected you to get up and leave, to remove yourself from the growing number of people surrounding you. But you didn’t.

You remained where you were, though your shoulders tensed slightly, and there was a subtle shift in your expression. You weren’t uncomfortable. You weren’t guarded.

But here, among all these people, you seemed slightly irritated, but human.

And for some reason, that made her feel something she couldn’t quite place

Wednesday felt it all, the way she always seemed to end up beside you—walking through the halls, settling into her seat during class.

She told herself it was nothing. A strategic choice, you were an anomaly, and she was merely studying you, trying to make sense of that dream, trying to make sense of you.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t ask why she was beside you between classes, why she sat near you when she had the chance, why she existed in your orbit like it was simply the way things were meant to be.

And Wednesday… Wednesday felt something almost like satisfaction in that. She wasn't sure why she felt… privileged.

It wasn’t as though you had declared her presence welcome, nor did you ever seek it out. You simply tolerated it. And somehow, that felt like enough. She had seen how you interacted—or rather, how you didn’t interact—with others. You kept your distance. You tolerated Enid. But beyond that, you were an island. Unreachable.

So why was she the exception?

The thought was infuriating. She didn’t like questions without answers.

And even in the dull monotony of school, she felt it, you never let your guard down entirely.

Except for one moment.

The fencing class.

She had been looking forward to it. She had been looking forward to you.

And you didn’t disappoint.

Wednesday had challenged you again. And, as expected, she lost. But this time, it was different. This time, she fought harder, adapted quicker. This time, she made you work for your victory.

And this time, she swore she saw something new in your expression—a flicker of exertion, a moment where you had to focus just a little harder.

She was getting better. And that meant something.

For once, she wasn’t entirely bitter about the loss.

By the time the final bell rang and students were retreating to their dorms, she found herself once again at your side. Neither of you spoke at first.

She felt a strange tightness in her chest, something akin to anticipation. It was an irritating, foreign sensation.

She cleared her throat. “I intend to continue our training this evening.”

You hummed.

That was it. Just a hum.

Wednesday frowned. “Is that a yes?”

You didn’t glance at her. “Maybe.”

She exhaled sharply. “I dislike uncertainty.”

You shrugged. “Then that’s your problem.”

She bristled. You had a talent for being insufferable. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, she found herself anticipating the evening regardless.

You reached your dorm, unlocking the door and stepping inside without another word.

You didn’t invite her in.

She hadn’t expected you to.

But she didn’t leave immediately either.

Her eyes flickered over your room, drinking in the details—or rather, the lack of them.

It was empty.

Not physically, of course. The furniture was there, the walls intact. But there was nothing personal. No photographs, no decorations, no trinkets that suggested someone actually lived here.

It was cold, soulless.

Just like you.

Like you weren’t meant to stay.

Wednesday’s gaze snapped back to you just in time to see you shrug off your blazer, revealing the toned muscles underneath.

That was—

She swallowed, fingers twitching at her sides.

You were strong. She had already known that, felt it in every spar, every clash of weapons. But seeing it like this, under normal lighting, without the rush of battle—

It was different.

She forced herself to look away, scanning the rest of the room instead. That’s when she noticed the bed. Singular.

“You don’t have a roommate?” she asked.

You barely glanced at her. “Wasn’t safe.”

Before she could question further, you reached for the door.

And then—

Slam.

No goodbye. No parting glance. Just the door shutting in her face.

She should have been angry. She should have been irritated at the sheer audacity of you brushing her off so effortlessly.

Instead, she was intrigued.

Again.

Not safe?

The Poe Cup was fast approaching. Preparation was necessary, and while Enid was all too excited about the event, Wednesday was far more interested in ensuring Bianca suffered another humiliating loss.

Her mind should have been occupied with tactics, strategies—ways to dismantle the Siren’s chances at victory.

Instead, it was occupied with you.

No matter how many times she tried to redirect her thoughts, they circled back to you.

Wednesday’s grip tightened around the paintbrush. This was unacceptable.

She had no reason to be thinking about you right now, yet you had embedded yourself into the crevices of her mind, refusing to be dislodged. Your movements, your words—or lack thereof—haunted her in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

It was infuriating.

Why were you always so quiet? Why did you refuse to let anyone in? And why did Wednesday want to be the exception?

The brush in her hand stopped mid-stroke.

A slow, creeping sense of realization settled over her.

She did.

She wanted to be the exception.

The thought was both disturbing and—

“Wow,” Enid said suddenly, snapping Wednesday from her thoughts. “You’ve been at that same spot for like, five minutes.”

Wednesday blinked, turning her head slightly. Enid was watching her, "You're all distracted and moody, well, more moody than usual. And you still haven't come up with a dozen of ways to beat Bianca so that says alot."

Wednesday tightened the rope harder than necessary, the material digging into her palms. "Perhaps you should concern yourself with decorating the boat and leave my thoughts alone."

Enid gasped dramatically. "So you admit you’re thinking about something else?"

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

There was a beat of silence before Enid's tone shifted, becoming far too smug for Wednesday’s liking. "So, what is it? What did she do? Did she say something? Did she look at you in a way that made your little goth heart go all boom boom—?"

"Enid." Wednesday’s voice was sharp, and for a moment, it seemed like Enid might actually drop it.

She didn’t. "Face it, Wednesday. You’re obsessed."

Wednesday stiffened.

The words hit closer than they should have.

Because the truth was, she was obsessed.

With figuring you out.

With understanding why you were the way you were.

Why you made her feel—

No.

She wouldn’t entertain that thought.

Instead, she inhaled sharply and said, "If I did want to learn more about someone, how would I do it?"

Enid blinked.

"You’re seriously asking me this?"

Wednesday rolled her eyes.

Enid grinned. "Well, you could just stalk them, but let’s be real, we both know that’s not going to work with her. She’s, like, the most un-stalkable person I’ve ever seen. Perhaps you should umm.. how would you say it 'Try courting her.' "

Wednesday blinked.

“What?”

“You know, court her,” Enid said, beaming. “Spend time with her, get to know her more. Talk with her. Maybe even—” she wiggled her eyebrows “—text her at night.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Why at night?”

“Because,” Enid said, “that’s usually when people let their guard down.”

Wednesday stared at her, utterly still. This was absurd. Completely absurd. And yet… A horrifying thought took root in her mind. Would it work?

Wednesday tightened her grip on the rope.

She was going to kill Enid Sinclair.

Wednesday was finally done coloring their boat.  Now her mind was finally where it should be—on strategy, on victory, on humiliating Bianca once again.

And then you arrived.

You carried the boat paddles, your expression unreadable as always.

Wednesday set her brush down, folding her arms as she eyed you. You placed the paddles beside her without a word.

“Let me guess. Enid forced you.”

“I don’t get forced to do things.”

Wednesday raised a skeptical brow. “So you willingly volunteered to help paint these?”

A beat of silence. Then, a flat, “No.”

Wednesday almost smirked. Almost.

You sighed as if resigning yourself to your fate, rolling up your sleeves. “Let’s get this over with.”

Wednesday wordlessly handed you a brush, watching as you dipped it into the paint. You worked with smooth, deliberate strokes, methodical in your approach. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft shh-shh of bristles against wood.

“You handle a brush like you handle a sword,” she said eventually.

You didn’t look at her. “And how is that?”

“Precise. Controlled.”

You were quiet for a beat. Then, “So do you.”

Wednesday paused mid-stroke.

It was such a simple remark, devoid of any weight or hidden meaning, but for some reason, it lodged itself into her thoughts like a splinter.

She turned slightly to glance at you, only to find you focused entirely on your task. As if the words had been nothing more than an observation.

Her mind was racing, but she refused to let it show. It was infuriating how easily you unsettled her, how effortlessly you took over her thoughts.

This was not supposed to happen.

And yet, it was.

She needed to say something—anything—to break the tension creeping into her chest.

“Why do you never ask questions?”

You paused mid-stroke, finally glancing at her. “What?”

Wednesday met your gaze. “You never ask anything. Never pry. Why?”

You studied her for a moment before looking away. “I don’t see the point.”

Wednesday tilted her head. “Curiosity is a natural human instinct.”

“I’ve never been particularly human.”

Wednesday’s fingers twitched again. That statement—it was too familiar. Too close to something she would say.

Before she could think of a response, footsteps approached again, breaking the moment entirely.

Enid and Yoko had arrived.

“So, are we finally making a battle plan, or are we just winging it?”

Wednesday exhaled slowly, “Yes,” she said, rising to her feet. “We’re discussing strategy.”

Enid perked up. “Good, because I just got some inside info—Bianca’s adding shields to her boat this year. That means last year’s spear trick won’t work.”

Wednesday clenched her jaw. The race was tomorrow, and she had yet to come up with an alternative strategy.

She had been too—

Distracted.

Enid leaned over the boat, frowning. “We need something else.”

Enid and Yoko began listing potential alternatives, but every suggestion was quickly met with a countermeasure that Bianca had likely already accounted for.

Nothing felt right.

Nothing seemed enough.

And then—

“Your focus is misplaced.” you spoke.

All three of them turned to you.

You remained seated, still painting, still looking entirely uninterested in the conversation.

“You’re too fixated on Bianca,” you continued. “There are other teams in this race. You’re underestimating them.”

Enid blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Focus on them,” you said simply.

Enid frowned. “And Bianca?”

“Leave taking Bianca’s boat down to me.” you said as you finished the last stroke of paint on the paddle.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “And what guarantee do we have that you can take her down? The water is her field.”

Your gaze met hers.

Emotionless. And Wednesday can see it... the darkness building in your eyes.

“I don’t fail.”

A slow smirk curled at the edges of Wednesday’s lips.

Because suddenly—

Suddenly, she knew exactly how they were going to win.

Wednesday adjusted the black cat ears on her head with all the enthusiasm of someone fastening a noose around their own neck.

This was humiliating. She loathed every aspect of it. But, she supposed, she loathed losing more.

With a sigh, she pulled on the last piece of the outfit and stepped out of the Black Cat’s tent.

And there you were.

Standing a short distance away, arms crossed, staring at Enid and Yoko like they had personally insulted your ancestors.

Your expression was twisted into something resembling mild horror as you looked them up and down. Almost as if you felt her presence, your eyes flicked over to her.

And then—

Disgust.

Your face didn’t change much, but Wednesday caught the subtle narrowing of your eyes, the barely-there curl of your lip.

She had seen this expression on you before—when you were unimpressed, when you found something utterly beneath your standards.

And now you were looking at her like that.

Wednesday was already plotting different ways to murder Enid for putting her in this position.

“I’m not wearing that.” you said.

“Oh, what?” Enid gasped. “You didn’t know?” She turned to Wednesday, hands on her hips. “Wednesday didn’t tell you? This is compulsory.”

You turned to her, a glare so sharp it could cut steel.

She held your glare, unwavering, refusing to be intimidated by whatever silent death threat you were sending her way.

But—strangely—her pulse quickened.

Not out of fear.

Out of something far worse.

Something she refused to name.

Without another word, you grabbed one of the dreadful uniforms from the pile and disappeared into the changing tent.

The second you were gone, Enid turned to Wednesday, eyes practically gleaming.

“This is kinda romantic,” she mused.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “What part of this is remotely romantic?”

"The way you two had a telepathic deathmatch to see who comes out on top right now."

Wednesday ignored her and crossed her arms, waiting.

The minutes stretched, and with each passing second, an odd anticipation settled in her chest.

The tent flap opened and you stepped out.

Her mind stuttered.

There you stood, in the same ridiculous, skintight, fur-trimmed uniform as the rest of them.

Except—

Somehow, on you, it wasn’t ridiculous at all.

The tight fabric outlined every curve, every muscle. The high collar made your shoulders seem sharper, your stance more imposing. And somehow, somehow, the absurd cat ears didn’t make you look silly. They made you look…

Wednesday clenched her jaw.

Absolutely not.

She refused to acknowledge whatever this was.

You had the same unimpressed, vaguely murderous expression you always did, but now it was directed at Enid.

“Try to hug me and I’ll gut you.”

Enid, unbothered, clasped her hands together. “Awww, you’re so cute when you threaten me.”

Wednesday barely heard them.

She was too focused on regaining her composure.

Luckily, Enid was already moving on. “So this is it. You ready?" she asked.

You nodded and strode toward the competition’s starting line. Wednesday followed a moment later, trying very hard to bury whatever the hell had just happened to her brain.

Wednesday gripped her oar with steady fingers, her mind already calculating all the different outcomes, all the scenarios.

Enid sat in the front of their sleek black boat, all grins and bubbling excitement, her fingers twitching with the urge to start rowing before Weems even gave the signal. Yoko was just behind her. Then there was herself, positioned in the middle, strategically placed for control, for observation.

And finally—

You.

Right behind her.

The final and most unpredictable element of this entire race.

She had spent so much time observing you, studying you, trying to untangle the mystery of who you were. And now, here you were, closer than ever, a mere breath away from her.

It made something restless twist inside her.

To their right sat the Amontillados, Xavier's team, who was currently staring at the their boat with open amusement. No—

Not at the boat.

At you.

Wednesday stiffened as Xavier leaned forward, his mouth already curving into that insufferable smirk.

“Wow,” he mused, voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Never thought I’d see you in something like that. Gotta say, it’s a look.”

Wednesday’s grip on her oar tightened.

She knew Xavier well enough to recognize that tone, that smug attempt at charm. He tried it on herself last year. He was flirting. With you.

Wednesday felt something snap. A cold, sharp irritation slithered through her chest. She resisted the urge to throw him overboard.

Your reaction, as always, was infuriatingly unreadable. You didn’t acknowledge Xavier, didn’t look at him, didn’t even blink and Xavier chuckled, clearly amused.

She would drown him.

She would personally drag him to the bottom of the lake and drown him.

Before she could act on the impulse, the sound of Principal Weems clearing her throat brought her back.

“The annual Poe Cup is a tradition that has stood since the founding of Nevermore Academy,” Weems began, her voice carrying across the water. “It is a test of teamwork, strategy, and endurance.”

Wednesday resisted the urge to scoff.

Weems continued, glancing between the competing boats. “As always, the rules are simple. Each team must paddle across Raven’s Island, retrieve their team flag, and return to the starting line without being sunk. First team across with their flag—wins.”

Weems lifted the revolver high.

“Let the best team win.”

The second the gunshot rang through the air, the boats shot forward, Bianca’s team took the lead almost immediately, her boat gliding through the water with practiced ease, her team moving in perfect sync with her commands.

Wednesday focused. Bianca wasn’t their immediate concern.

Not yet.

Enid paddled furiously at the front, Yoko, right behind her, was more controlled, keeping pace with Wednesday’s calculated movements.

And at the very back, you were eerily calm as you paddled.

Silent.

Watching.

It was infuriating how unfazed you looked while the rest of them exerted themselves, muscles burning as they fought against the current.

But Wednesday had no time to dwell on it.

Not when she caught movement to her left.

Wednesday snapped her head toward them.

The Pit and the Pendulum’s boat was creeping up at an angle, dangerously close, their team moving with clear intent. And then she saw it—

A glint of metal.

The Pit and the Pendulum’s boat jerked to the side, revealing the hidden mechanism at their center.

A massive swinging axe, And it was falling. Right toward them.

A normal person might have panicked.

Enid let out a startled noise, already moving instinctively to the side—

But before the axe could make contact—

It should have split their boat in half.

But it didn’t.

Wednesday had barely registered the movement before she saw it.

You.

Your sword was there.

Your conjured katana, held in one hand with a casual ease, intercepting the massive axe mid-swing.

The force alone should have sent you staggering—should have sent you reeling back—but you stood firm. Your grip never wavered, the katana steady as it held the axe at bay.

Wednesday felt something crawl up her spine.

Admiration? Fascination? Something else? There wasn’t time to dissect it.

She had to move. Now.

With the axe momentarily stalled, Wednesday yanked at the mechanism near her foot—a concealed lever.

The Black Cats’ trap sprang into action.

A weighted net shot out from the side of their boat as it latched onto three of the Pit and the Pendulum’s oars, entangling them, causing them to lose their balance. Their boat wobbled dangerously and then, they tipped.

Wednesday didn’t look back. She wasn't the one to revel in the small victory. Neither were you.

Because the race wasn’t over yet.

Ahead, Bianca’s boat surged forward, sleek and unhindered, cutting through the water like a blade. She had taken an early lead, and despite Wednesday’s best efforts to focus, irritation prickled at the back of her mind.

Not because Bianca was winning.

But because her own mind—her own cursed thoughts—kept slipping back to the girl at the rear of their boat who was silent as ever.

Bianca’s team had reached the island first.

Wednesday grit her teeth, adjusting her grip on the oar. Each stroke sent a sharp pull through her muscles, the effort burning in her arms, but she refused to relent.

Enid panted in front of her, “We’re almost there!”

Yoko, ever composed, nodded. “Push harder. We need to close the gap.”

Bianca’s team had already beached their boat, Bianca going for the flag while the rest stayed behind to defend the boat against any sabotage.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate.

The moment their boat scraped against the shore, she jumped out, boots sinking into the wet sand. She knew the way.

She had walked this ground before.

But so had Bianca. She moved quickly, heart pounding not from exertion, but from the quiet thrill of the challenge. When she reached their flags Bianca was already taking her's. Wednesday narrowed her eyes, stepping closer.

Bianca said running past her, “Try not to take a cat nap this time, Addams.”

“I could take one and still win," Wednesday said yanking their flag off.

As soon as she returned back to the shoreline, she spotted her team already waiting in the boat. Enid was already waving frantically from the boat.

“Hurry!” she yelled. “They’re getting ready to launch!”

Wednesday barely slowed as she reached the water’s edge. The boat rocked as she jumped in, but her balance remained steady. She shoved the flag into the side compartment before gripping her oar.

They were back on the water.

And Bianca was still ahead.

The race was now in its most critical moment. The return.

Bianca’s boat cut through the waves, her team paddling with brutal efficiency. But then— Bianca’s team made their move.

Wednesday saw it before the Amontillados did.

Dark shapes slithered beneath the water, just barely visible beneath the surface. Sirens.

Wednesday watched as Xavier’s boat lurch violently.

His teammates flailed, oars slipping from their grasp as hands dragged against their boat, pulling them off course.

The Amontillados didn’t stand a chance.

Xavier and his team barely had time to react before the boat tipped, sending them plunging into the lake.

“Bianca with her damn sirens again,” Yoko muttered. “She took out the Amontillados. We’re next, get ready!”

“I will cut their arms off if they touch this boat.” Your voice was even, void of emotion. “They know that,” you continued, “So they won’t. They probably have some other strategy to take us down.”

Wednesday believed you.

She wasn’t sure if the sirens feared you because of what you could do, or because they had seen you do it before.

They rowed and they rowed.

The finish line loomed ahead, the cheers from the shore swallowed by the sound of paddles striking the water and the waves.

Bianca’s boat was ahead, but not by much. The Black Cats were closing in, their speed a perfect, deadly rhythm, Wednesday just needs to slow it down. She got ready, this was her time, her hand tightened around the crossbow, the one you had given her, or more accurately, conjured for her. It was light, too light, yet it fit in her hands as if it had always been meant for her.

She positioned herself, lifting the crossbow, lining up the shot. One bolt. Just one hole in that boat and the black cats are winning this.

She exhaled, steadying her fingers on the trigger—

Then froze.

A sound curled through the air, slipping into her mind like a wisp of fog curling around her thoughts. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t forceful.

It was beautiful.

Her aim faltered.

Her vision blurred at the edges.

Bianca.

Bianca was singing.

Wednesday clenched her jaw, forcing her grip to stay firm, her finger pressing against the trigger. She blinked, forcing focus, forcing precision—Then fired.

The bolt sliced through the air, cutting towards its target. And then....

Then it missed. No, it didn't miss, it went through Bianca's boat, or more like.. the fake projection of the boat Bianca created in her vision, just behind their actual boat.

Wednesday gritted her teeth. Bianca’s smirk was sharp, knowing.

Then the real attack began.

The siren’s song grew louder, crashing over them like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just in her head anymore—it was in the air, vibrating in her skull, pressing against her ribs.

“Shit—” Yoko’s voice was strangled as she tore her hands from the oar, slamming them over her ears.

Enid whimpered, her claws scraping against the boat’s side as she did the same.

The song grew stronger, insidious. Not just a suggestion, but a command.

Jump.

The word coiled around them like a serpent tightening its grip.

Wednesday felt it seep into her thoughts, her fingers twitching at the oar. Her arms burned as she struggled to paddle alone, the boat swaying against the current.

Bianca’s gaze locked onto hers, triumph in every line of her expression.

She had won. She knew it. And so did Wednesday.

The edges of her vision darkened, the melody still tugging, pulling, commanding, and then—

Bianca’s face twisted. Her smirk faltered.

The song stopped.

A scream.

No

Multiple screams.

Wednesday knew screams.

She had heard them before—raw, agonized, desperate cries that filled the halls of her mind like a sweet melody.

But this—

This was different.

It wasn’t just pain.

It was terror.

Pure, unfiltered terror.

Wednesday’s gaze snapped to Bianca’s boat.

Bianca’s team was writhing, clawing at themselves, their mouths open in bloodcurdling shrieks. Their fingers tore at their skin, their bodies convulsing as if set ablaze by something unseen.

One of them lurched forward, eyes wide in horror as he let out a strangled gasp—

Then flung himself into the water.

Then another.

And another.

Bianca was the only one left.

And she was shaking.

Slowly, she turned looking at their boat but her eyes weren’t on Wednesday anymore.

They were looking behind her.

Enid and Yoko turned first.

And then Wednesday followed.

You weren’t there.

The space where you had been sitting was empty. They immediately turned back, looking at Bianca.

Bianca’s expression was frozen in something Wednesday had never seen on her before.

Fear.

Not apprehension.

Not wariness.

True, genuine fear.

Then Wednesday saw why.

You stood on Bianca’s boat.

No sound, no splash, no indication of movement. One moment you had been with them. The next, you were standing before Bianca, staring at her as if.., as if you were the bringer of death itself.

Then, with a flicker of motion so quick it was almost imperceptible—

Your katana materialized in your hand.

A sharp whistle of air as the blade cut through space—

Bianca flinched, her arms flying up in reflex, but the strike never touched her.

Instead—

A sharp crack echoed through the water.

A split second later, Bianca’s boat lurched violently.

A clean, perfect slash—

Straight through the hull.

The boat split in two, water rushing in, swallowing it whole.

Bianca barely had time to react before she was sinking, her body hitting the water with a sharp splash.

Wednesday steadied her breath.

Her fingers curled around the oar, her grip firm.

She turned back.

And there you were. Sitting in your seat.

As if you had never left. As if nothing had happened.

“Start rowing.” Your voice was emotionless, cold. Commanding.

Wednesday’s fingers twitched against the wood. She had never been one to follow orders. But she didn’t hesitate to follow this.

Part 4

[End note: Yeah, that took me too much time to even copy paste from doc to here lol. Comment how was it]

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