#goodbye everyone!! come visit me amongst the stalks

[hawnks]

bad news everyone i have run out of lavender syrup and my package of lavender doesn’t get here until later 2day :(

[red-writes]

soft yan! shinsou x chubby! reader

summary: you keep receiving these letters in your mailbox from an unknown person, somehow you find yourself slowly falling for the creepy admirer until one day they decide to reveal themselves to you in the worst way possible—by looming over you while you sleep.

warnings: yandere behavior, insecurities, light smut.

Boo’s note: hi okay, this is dedicated to the annie that asked me for a shinsou fic, tbh I didn’t really know what to make it about bc u didn’t specify but here I hope you like it *^* uhh it’s also unedited im sorrrrry

Everyday at 7:00 am, the mailman drops off mail. Everyday at 7:10 am you’re rushing downstairs after stuffing half a bagel in your mouth to retrieve the stack of envelopes from the mailbox. The letters started appearing a month ago, pretty purple envelopes sealed with a cat sticker were amongst your mail everyday. You picked out the purple one and dropped the other unimportant, plain white envelopes on the coffee table. You took a seat on the couch and hurriedly opened it up.

My dearest love,

Last night I had a dream about you. You’re perfect face was smiling at me, you called my name and even held your hand out to me. You were so perfect I woke up crying. The more time that passes, the more I find myself falling deeper and deeper in the never-ending ocean that is you. So deep, so warm, comforting and gentle. Do you think that maybe one day, we could be happy together? That we could live a life together somewhere peaceful where you have me and I have you and that’s it. To me, that sounds like heaven, a world where the only person I only ever see is you. You’re my everything, my reason to live, to breathe and to continue living in this grueling world. I hope the rest of your day is good, I hope you enjoy yourself at the party.

xoxo,

shin.

After reading you couldn’t help the hard pounding of your heart, it was unusual yes, but you found his fondness for you quite endearing. You clutched the letter and held it to your chest. While it was strikingly odd that he knew about tonight’s party, you didn’t mind. Up until now shin had been harmless, never saying or doing anything too weird or creepy, nothing to warrant you to visit the local police station. You refolded the letter and tucked it back inside of the envelope. Instead of mulling over small details, you needed to find something to put on tonight!

+

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was a charity event for the company you worked for, everyone from the hero deku to chargebolt was in attendance. Big parties like this were not your scene but you had to go, your boss invited you personally and you didn’t want to let him down. You took a drink off of one of the tables and made your way to a less crowded corner of the room. You took rare sips of your champagne as you sighed. This place was definitely not your scene.

“You look fabulous tonight” you hear from beside you, you’re quick to turn your head and your eyes lay upon none other than the mind-jacking hero, Shinsou!

You’re quick to bow, “ah! Mr.shinsou, sir, it’s an honor to meet you” you greet and he’s chuckling softly.

“Hey now, don’t worry about being too formal with me” he says, voice gentle as he rests a hand on your shoulder. Your face is burning, he told you that you looked nice! The number five hero just complimented you!

“Thank-thank you” you say and quickly take another sip of your drink to try and calm your nerves, “you look nice as well”

He gives you a genuine smile, “you’re so sweet”

You can hardly breathe right now, Shinsou first told you that you looked nice and now he was calling you sweet? Was this your lucky day or something?

“Well Shinsou I-”

“Oh! Hitoshi, I’ve been looking for you man!”

Chargebolt walked over to where the two of you were standing and wrapped his arm around Shinsou’s neck. He began pulling him away, going on about how ground zero almost slapped one of the patrons. Shinsou turned to wave goodbye to you and you did the same. Once he was out of sight you released a breathe you hadn’t know you’d been holding in. Tonight felt like a dream, you really didn’t want to wake up from it.

“y/n! There you are, I need to you take pictures of me and some of our guests!” Your boss yells and you’re sighing, downing the rest of your drink before you rest it on a neighboring table.

“Coming sir!”

well maybe you were ready to wake up from it now.

+

The next day at the same time you retrieved your mail, you’d shuffled through it several times and yet you hadn’t found that signature purple envelope. The day after that and even the day after that one there was no letter for you in the mail. It stung. Maybe they’d lost interest in you? Maybe they decided that you weren’t good enough after all?

The sixth day after receiving no letter you’d decided to give up, it wasn’t like you knew this was going to happen. You threw yourself onto your bed as soon as you got out the shower. You’d been doing poorly at work lately, your mind too busy focusing on those purple envelopes rather than the stack of paper work in front of you. You pulled the sheets up to your chin and shut your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t dream of that person or their kind words.

There was an odd sensation you got, it felt like cold air was hitting your body. Were you still dreaming? You didn’t leave your window open. Your eyes fluttered open, your vision still slightly blurry as you came to. Your sat up and rubbed your eyes. From the corner of your eye you saw a figure standing there. Fear that laid dormant until now began to unfurl itself in your gut, you slowly turned your head to face it and there he was.

“M-mr.Shinsou?!” You whisper yelled, he gave you a soft smile and held his hands up in front of him.

“You caught me” he says and begins walking towards you, you’re scurrying away from him on the bed.

“Why- why are you here?!” you hold the sheet up in front of you like a shield.

“I felt guilty about not sending letters for so long..I made you sad and I couldn’t forgive myself for that so I came to make it up to you” he explains and your still sleep filled mind was struggling trying to comprehend his words.

“Letters..you’re the one who has been sending me all of those letters?” You ask and he nods, he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and that familiar pounding of your heart is back. It was him, the person you’d been longing for, for so long now.

“Mhm, everything I said in those letters were true as well, how beautiful I think you are, how addicting your personality is, how absolutely sinful I think your body is..” he whispers and you feel air caught in your throat. Shinsou inches closer and closer to you and in a flash of purple he pins you underneath him.

“Mr.Shinsou..-”

“Hitoshi, call me Hitoshi” he corrects.

His head slowly lowers until his face is millimeters from yours, his breath is hot against your lips and you can’t help but shut your eyes, you’d been wanting this- wanting him for such a long time now. Shinsou’s lips press gently against yours and you find yourself kissing back, your lips move in a glorious synchronous. The kiss was one of passion and hunger; proof that the two of you had been longing for the other. You pulled away from him, lungs grateful for the ability to breathe again.

“Hitoshi..” you whisper and Shinsou sucks in a breath before his hands move downwards to pull at the hem of your night gown.

“Can I?” He asks and you find yourself nodding. The number five hero, the man who has been stalking you, sending you letters that if you were anyone else would find creepy, the man you’d fallen for…

You raised your arms in the air as he slowly began lifting the sheer cloth off of you revealing your nude body to him. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, your arms folded to cover your exposed chest.

“Y-you might be disillusioned after seeing me completely naked..if you regret choosing me to give your heart to, I don’t blame you” you shyly confess and Shinsou’s eyes widen.

“I could never, I've merely dreamt about this day every night for months on end...you are the most beautiful person I've had the pleasure of laying eyes upon.” He says, his hands gently pry your arms away from your body and you can feel hot tears well up in your eyes as he lays you back against the soft blankets.

His lips are soft as they press themselves against every bit of exposed skin, his kisses don't shy away from stretch marks or any of your other insecurities. A warm, heated feeling that blossoms in your chest. 

Love? Desire? Serendipity?

It felt like all three combined into one big ball of sentiment. 

His hands gently massaged your breasts evoking soft mewls of his name from you. His hands slivered downwards to grope the flesh of your stomach.

“Soft beautiful...” he mumbles, his hands move even further downwards and cup the warmth between your legs. The feeling of his hand directly against you has your legs spreading, giving yourself completely to him. His fingers gently rub circles at your clit, your hips stutter up into his touch, moans and whimpers tumble out of your mouth dumbly. The situation you've been so eager for, for so long was finally upon you.

Your back arches off the mattress as he slides a slim finger inside of you, the sensation feels much fuller than your own fingers do. You beg him to go faster, add more and make you feel better than you have ever before and he's shushing your lust filled ramblings with a kiss. 

“I need to savor this moment, I won’t get many more like this” he expresses and your concern is evident on your face but he doesn't allow you to ponder on his words. He adds in another finger and curls them upwards, pressing them against the spongy sweet spot, his head ducks down and his lips wrap firmly around your clit and suck on the aching bud. Your eyes roll back into your head and your body shakes, unable to handle to the newfound euphoria.

“Ah- shinsou! I’ll- cumming!” your cunt spasms around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, you grip onto the sheets around you as your thighs shake.

“You look so pretty like this, so so pretty” he compliments, before you know it your eyes are involuntarily fluttering shut. You're scared, panic fills you at the thought of him not being here when you wake up, you don't want this to be another fever dream. 

+

When you awake the next morning you feel heavy. Your body slumped with the exhaustion of the previous nights activities. You're eyes widen as your hand feels around the bed, your fingers bump into the heat of another body and there is. The yellow halo from the sun is cast over his head as his chest rises and falls.

You scoot in close enough so that your noses are just barely touching. His eyes begin creaking open and purple gems meet your own.

“Good morning”

“Morning..”

Questions about what he meant last night could wait…you wanted spend your time right now loving him.

[littlefreya]

Heart of Darkness

Synopsis: Slight sequel to Overprotected. Walter’s longing wife comes to visit him at his office.

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: Explicit, graphic smutty sex, rough oral sex, choking, role play, pleasure denial, rough sex. MaleDom / FemSub. Slight fluff though. 

A/N: A special thanks for @agniavateira or helping me proof my work. I don’t own Night Hunter / Nomins or Marshall!

Title: Heart of Darkness

The heating is broken at the station. It’s either that, or Walter came up with some new methods of torture to interrogate his suspects. I’ve never seen him in action, I’m not sure if it’s the shame of this very darkness that lives within him, or his desperate attempt to keep me safe from the horrors of the night. His colleagues filled me in a while ago, mentioning he tends to go rough, violent, even brutal at times. 

They know very little for I bask in Walter’s darkness. I’m the first to witness the terror that consumes him and shadows his soul. I drink from his desire, joining him in this violent lovemaking. It’s the only thing that helps him cleanse his demons.

It brings us closer. 

And yet, he doesn’t want me here. He fights to keep me secluded as if I was some porcelain doll. 

As if I don’t see my share of blood and death every day. 

I walk through the chilled halls of the station, wrapping my arms around myself to keep warm. Even though I’m wearing a large, thick winter coat, it feels like it’s four degrees here. I shouldn’t have worn a skirt beneath all this, but how could I have known? I left five text messages which remained unanswered. It’s not unusual. He is busy, and sometimes he forgets. 

It doesn’t mean this doesn’t piss me off.

I find him in his office, with a phone pressed to his ear. His bulky body faces the window while he talks down some crime lab trainee for messing up the evidence. He turns to see who dares to barge his office uninvited, his blue eyes pale as glaciers. They immediately melt as he realizes it’s me. 

“I don’t care how. Get a new sample or I’ll make sure you’ll never hear the end of this!” He ends the call without a goodbye and drops the device on his desk. His arms grab the edges of the chair tightly while he stares down, letting his soft dark curls fall on top of his forehead.

“What are you doing here, pet? You know I don’t like you coming here.” 

I take off my long coat, hanging it next to the door. His office is only slightly warmer. It’s smaller, and Walter emits enough warmth on his own. Everyone is walking around in their coats and jackets but he's in a black wool sweater per usual, with the sleeves rolled up to expose his wide forearms.

“I missed you” I answer, pretending not to tremble but the fumes that come out of my mouth give me away. 

I take a small, slow twirl in the secluded space, inspecting the room. There's so little light in here. On the shelf, he has some books about the history of crime and criminology, with his diploma and badges of honour laid next to it. Not out of pride, but out of compliance. Walter is not an arrogant man, he’s actually the opposite. He doesn’t have time for chasing glory, all he does is out of pure heroism, some would even say out of altruism.   

The morbid photos next to his desk catch my eyes. Images of victims. They hang on a board latched to the wall, along with a map, and a thick, red string that trails the locations where the bodies were found. These are young women, mutilated, their lives were stolen from them by selfish monsters. 

I get to see my share of blood every day, sometimes even death. But, this is not something anyone should see. 

And this is what he sees all the time, probably also in his dreams. The ghosts of the girls he couldn’t save haunt him; it’s not his fault, but he’d never see it that way. For him, every girl who died on his watch is a girl he has failed.  

My fingers press against the ring on my finger, twisting it anxiously. I can feel my heart shrinking to the size of a walnut. I wish I could suck the pain out of him as you do with poison.

“I told you…” he speaks with a deep frown on his face, as if he is angry with me for entering his cave of horrors. He was in a foul mood before I got here, and I defied his request. I am the one teasing the tinders with more wind and fuel. 

All I wanted was to bring my light into his world, at least for a little while.

“You visit me at work all the time,” I answer, inching closer toward his desk. I try to ignore the sourness in my throat as the horrifying images on the wall stare right at us.  

He gives me a small smile, almost invisible amongst the wrinkles of grumpiness on his forehead. 

“It’s a part of my job to come to the hospital, and it’s the only one in the county.”

That’s how we met. 

I was in my first year of residency. The tall, burly man with the most caring blue eyes appeared in the hospital. I have seen Walter once before that, spending an evening at the local Irish bar with his friends. The toughness on his face was the only thing I remembered then. I thought he was hot, obviously, though I didn’t bother approaching him. 

I didn’t fall in love with him until I saw the ocean of benevolence he kept under that hard shell. 

He came to visit a victim and stayed the night to make sure the aggressor won’t return, and that the girl is taken care of. I felt his eyes on me every now and then, silently observing me when I was checking up on other patients. He tried to strike a small conversation, about the girl first, and then about my job at the hospital. I believed the British giant was just being polite and passed the long, boring night by chit-chat. I should have known I was being interrogated to see if I’m single or not. 

Suddenly, he appeared at the hospital every other day, to check up on “the girl”. The first night, he brought me some coffee because “I work crazy hours,” and he thought I’d like some to drink. Then, it was coffee and a sweet pastry to eat. For a week and a half, I had a constant visitor who took care of my caffeine and sugar intake. My colleagues teased me for suddenly wearing perfume to work, and how I’d blush whenever “Sir Big Dick” arrived.

On the last evening, he came to my department and found me signing some charts. I’ve told him the girl was released during the morning, but of course, he knew that. He smiled at me and offered me a single red rose instead, asking if I’d like to accompany him for a real dinner this time.

Four years since then, he comes to visit even when there are no victims. Sometimes, I’m worried he does that out of fear that something will happen to me, and not just out of a romantic gesture to see his wife. 

“Is it part of your job to stalk your wife?”

He slouches on his chair heavily, making it squeak beneath his weight. His eyes rise to gaze at my face. There is a weariness in them, the kind that even sleep can’t cure anymore. I fear the day when my husband will stray too far from the light, when the heart of darkness will clutch its ugly thorns in his tender flesh. 

“It is my job to make sure the citizens of this county are safe.” 

I roll my eyes at him, walking to stand behind his chair. My hands reach to clutch his broad shoulders as I begin to knead the tense muscles with mild force. He stiffens for a moment and then emits a soft groan, flexing and trying to relax beneath my touch.

“Do you bring red roses to all the citizens in our county?” I speak with a sultry voice, moving my hands to his collarbone. Walter closes his eyes and throws his head back, a deep groan vibrates from the pit of his throat. 

“Only the hot ones,” he answers as his hand finds my leg and snakes up my bare skin, running all the way up beneath my skirt to find the curve of my ass. “You’re shivering.”

“It’s freezing in here.” I answer, leaning into the warmth of his palm as he strokes up and down my thigh to keep me warm.  

“Why are you dressed like that, then?” he guides me toward him to sit in his lap. His hands run up and down my legs, exposing more of my skin while a soft smile spreads across his rugged face. “If I wouldn’t know better, I’d say you came here to seduce a police detective.”

I bite my lower lip, wrapping my hands around his neck while my ass sinks against his groin. I feel so safe in his touch, with his coarse hands that burn hot on my flesh. 

“Why? Is that a crime?”

“Actually, yes.”

I pull away from him, standing against the edge of the desk with a teasing smirk across my face. His hand reaches out to my knees, not wanting to break contact. He has been deprived of it all day long, abandoned in the cold. 

Now here I am, the only warmth he knows.

“Show me then.”

He licks his lips, still smiling as he is caught up with my little flirtatious act. “Show you what, pet?”

“What interrogation methods would you use? How would you squeeze a dirty little secret out a seductress like me?” I place the heel of my boot between his straddled thighs, preventing him from moving and asserting my dominance to provoke him.  

His eyes narrow at me while he considers the idea. I see how the ethical balance begins to tip, the ball falling from one scale to the other. His better judgment becomes lost in a thick cloud of lust. 

“You keep secrets from me?” he asks as he plays along.

“Maybe…” I stretch the word, giving him a wicked flirtatious smile. 

Somewhere deep inside this good man, there is a big black dog, hungry to rip this willing victim to shreds. 

He peers at my leg and then up into my eyes while his fingers reach to gently tickle beneath my knee. I hum in delight, throwing my head back, my leg losing its strength, my assertiveness leaning on the edge along with my ankle. 

“I’d begin by putting you in a position where you don’t have any power whatsoever,” he speaks in a voice that’s gruff and low, his fingers now pressing hard and I’m forced to straighten my leg and lower it to the floor.

The smile on his face becomes cold and his eyes darken as he moves to stand in front of me. His leans against me, his torso pressed against my chest, his chin against my forehead as he lowers his head.

“Down on your knees.” 

These words take my breath away, making my skin prickle with nervousness. I follow his orders with the obedience of a good wife. My knees lay pressed against the cold floor, I try not to tremble too much. I’m not sure if it’s just the temperature of the room, or the dark glare on Walter’s face.

His groin is at the level of my face, the outline of his cock showing through the fabric of his trousers as it begins to harden.

He reaches out his hands to cradle my face. Stroking my hair back, examining my face as if he is learning my features for the first time. The smile diminished from his face the moment I went down on my knees. Now he stares at me with the severity of his bad detective attitude.   

“You’re very pretty,” he compliments me, but it sounds more of a fact than anything sweet. His fingers caress my cheeks and then at the corners of my lips, forcing me to part my lips. “Pretty little mouth too, does it talk?”

“I ain’t telling you nothing, Detective” I play along, if I’ve known we’re actually doing THAT, I would have prepared a script. 

His hands run to stroke the hair away from my face, beginning in a tender affectionate touch, he collects every strand lovingly until my hair is bundled between his strong palms. I can feel the softness of his touch draining away. 

“Undo my belt.” He commands. 

“I don’t…”

“You don’t want me to ask again.”

My hands tremble with fear and excitement as my fingers fumble with the metal clasp of his belt. Walter’s eyes look at me carefully, completely devoted to this role. I wonder how much of his job is pretence and how much is actually him.

“What do you say if I’ll fuck your mouth until you cry?” 

He asks while reaching one hand to unzip his trousers, freeing his beautiful large cock and stroking it in front of me for display. I can’t help but lick my lips, like a hungry kitten presented with creamy delight. The little drop of pre-cum that trickles down his shaft is too inviting. 

“I’d say you still won’t hear a word from me,” I provoke. 

Walter gives a short smile, tugging my hair back painfully until I’m forced to part my lips open into a breathless gasp of pain.

 “Take me in your mouth.” 

Usually, when I please him, I’d begin with a soft teasing, licking my way up and down his hardness until I finally take him in and begin working him sensually.

I am not granted any of that courtesy right now.

Walter forces himself into the wet heat of my mouth with the delicacy of a grunt. A deep, throaty groan echoes in the room as he is surrounded by my hot saliva and is pressed against the softness of my tongue. 

I choke out a mewl as he completely fills my mouth, feeling the head of his cock nearing the back of my throat. My cheeks betray me, sucking by instinct to savour his girth. Every inch of my body knows Walter all too well, it succumbs to the man that owns it, physically and emotionally.  

I look up to him with helpless glossy eyes. Victory showers his face, golden and bleak at the same time. He lets his callous long fingers clasp around the hollow of my cheeks to force me to keep my mouth open wide just to please him.

I gasp for air as he pulls back slowly. Just a cruel act to make me think we’re done, but we are far from that.

“Loosen your mouth pet, I am going deeper.”  

He warns and shoves himself in again, this time deeper as promised, relishing on my muffled whimpers he puts one hand on the back of my head and begins to buck his hips. Fucking my mouth in the rhythm that fulfils his lust.

My heart pounds on my chest, my knees begin to hurt as I try to move with him. But I’m his good girl, breathing through my nose, letting my tongue lap around his lavished cock lovingly while he uses me as the wet hole he unloads into. 

His eyes are glistening, ecstasy drawing near. I look up to stare at him, admiring how glorious he is. My large man, so confident and dominating. His beautiful dark curls frame his square face, bringing out his high cheekbones and bright blue eyes. And damn, that voice, those low melodic hums of pleasure making my entire body shake.   

I choke onto his swollen cock. Tears stained dark grey thanks to my eyeliner and mascara, run down my cheeks.

“Don’t cry beautiful,” he speaks with cynical sweetness, his thumb wiping the tears away from one cheek as he carefully withdraws from my mouth, allowing me to breathe once again. “All you need to do is tell me what you’re hiding and this will end.”

I gasp for air, my chest slightly heaving while his fingers run under my eyes to clean the black mess that is smeared on my face. He remains silent, the wrinkles between his brows are deep and severe while he is still pulling his bad cop act. Yet the way his hands run over my face with care gives him away so easily.

“Is this the worst you can do? Some detective you are!”

I provoke him, laughing patronizingly with my voice still husky, the edge of my throat slightly sore from having to endure his size in its depth. Walter chuckles momentarily before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me up to sit on his desk. 

“Spread ‘em” he nearly barks, but it’s not really an order since his hands press my knees apart widely, exposing the dampness on my underwear. He smoothes both hands up my thighs roughly, his thumbs reaching out until reaching to my core. 

I let my head back, feeling how his thumb massages me, pressing against my covered clit and drawing circles against it.

“You like that, little slut?”

“Yes…” I throw my head back and moan, my hands holding hard at the edges of the desk while I spread myself to him as much as possible and grinding my hips to steal more friction.

“You want more?” he teases while his fingers slowly slip my underwear to one side, exposing me to the cold air in the room. I’m so drenched for him right now, held open, anticipating like sliced fruit. He reaches out for his cock and begins to stroke himself in front of me, a wicked grin adorning his face.

I’m very much aware he can finish himself just like this while leaving me here to beg out of thirst. Well, I can do that too. I lift my hand to touch myself, nearly losing balance but he shoves his thighs between my legs right away and holds my wrist away.

“Ah, ah” he forbids. “You’re not touching yourself, you’re still under investigation.”

“If you don’t finish me off…” I threaten him but my intimidation breaks into a pathetic cry as I feel the head of his cock rubbing against my clit. 

“You’ll what?” he asks, running the tip between my throbbing lips and up to my clit. Back and forth he tortures me, increasing the pace and then slowing down. His groans convince me he may be enjoying this more than actually fucking me, seeing me so helpless and weak, willing to cry and beg for him to just put himself inside me. “I’m still waiting to hear what you’re hiding.” 

I close my eyes, head thrown back in agony and pleasure at once, so close yet so far away as Walter pushes just an inch inside, and then pulls out and strokes me again. 

I am still not willing to break completely, what’s the fun in that? I know my man, and I’m aware of his darkest desires and capabilities.

Let him unleash his worst. 

“Not a word from me, Detective, you’ll just have to try harder.”

His nostrils flares. 

“Fine, then I’ll just have to punish fuck you, drill you like a whore.” He pushes all the way in, making me whimper with bliss as I am finally whole again. 

I’ve led him just to where I wanted. His body conquering mine, filling me with the pleasure that’s not just physical.

Somehow both his hands find their way to my neck, holding me constrained while he allows my body to stretch for him. He makes me stare directly into his eyes, holding my face close to him, his hot mouth hovers onto mine, our breath mingling.  

I wrap myself completely around him, my boots pressing onto his ass to keep him buried deep inside. My hands hang onto his shoulders as if hanging to lift itself. 

He begins to finally move, grunting against my ear, his beard tickling at my neck while he thrusts me fast and hard. I grind onto him, our bodies making the erotic sounds of wet bodies as they slam together. 

This isn’t romantic lovemaking, he’s not tender and caring. His force is controlling, consumed by his demons once again. He fucks into me as if he wants to rip me apart, his hands depriving me of air, tight, perhaps too tight. Yet it’s still love, he would have not been able to have this with any other person and I would have not given it to him if I have not loved him as much.

The desk moves as he pounds me, he stretches his arms somewhat to lean me back, so he can look at me as I squirm beneath him, choked, fucked, and beautiful in his arms. We have both long forgotten our stupid game. We were too lost in the act of seeking out pleasure in one another’s bodies. 

I look back at the man I love, feeling the tremor that dances between my legs. My entire body quivers. My muscles embrace him deep inside as I come hard around his cock, snapping my eyes open, gasping at his sight.

He has his fingers engulfed roughly around my throat, leaving blue bruises. If he’d want me to stop breathing at this moment, he could so easily just push slightly tighter. I’d die happy in his arms, but I know he’d kill himself before ever really hurt me. His hands finally snap from my throat and reach instead to hold my face, crashing his lips against mine into a deep hungry kiss before breaking away and letting out one final gasp as true bliss sweeps him away. 

For more than a few moments, Walter is lost, buried deep inside me, surrounded by light.   

That’s when I break, entangling my fingers in his big soft curls, I inch my lips toward his ear to whisper, 

“I’m pregnant.”

Walter backs his face away to look at me, first with disbelief, his eyebrows rising, unable to even form a word. I’ve never seen so many emotions at once. Then a smile appears, so wide I think his cheeks may hurt. His beautiful teeth show and he lets out a chuckle of joy, sounding almost half-believing. 

“Really?” 

I melt as I see the twinkle in his eyes. The man who is always so grumpy and gruff looks now like the sweetest, most caring person in the world. 

“Yes, we're going to have a baby.” 

He kisses me lovingly, his arms wrapping around my back and holding me tightly. 

“Detective Walter do you ha… SHIT!” A young cadet barges in, finding me with my legs spread around Walter while he is still panting heavily with his curls sticky at his forehead.

It’s as bad as it looks.

The frown immediately returns to Walter’s face. Looking at the cadet as if he is ready to murder him at the spot.

“GET OUT!” he yells, throwing whatever’s within his reach to force the cadet out faster.

I can’t help but chuckle, wrapping my arms around my mountain of a man, there is so much of him to hug, it always makes me feel so protected. He leans his cheek against my forehead and then lets out a deep sigh. 

That’s when I know the darkness is returning, and now he has a brand new fear in him. 

[marshmallow-phd]

Heart of Thorns

Genre: Beauty and the Beast!AU, Romace, Angst

Paring: Tao x Reader

Inspired by: These moodboards created by @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme (x) (x) and my absolute obsession with Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Lost in a forest during a storm, you find shelter in a crumbling castle that had been hidden away for years. The master of the house shut himself away, refusing to engage with the world. Too intrigued and running away from your own fears, you refuse to leave no matter how much he tells you to, wanting to try and find the heart within the beast.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three

**

Everyone knew the story of the man in the forest mansion. He’d once been the son of a prominent and just lord. The people of the land praised the lord’s name as he was always fair and practiced justice amongst all his subjects. It was a month of mourning when he passed away from sickness, but there were high hopes for his son to carry on his legacy. And at first, all was well.

But something happened that changed his heart.

A woman appeared; beautiful, alluring, and sweet. She captured his heart and they say he adored her, showering her in gifts of gold, jewels, and fine cloth. No one knows what happened for sure, only that the lord’s son went mad. There was a fire and the woman died. Most say that he started it with the intent of killing her.  

Soon after, the son turned out all the servants and secluded himself from the rest of the world. Whispers popped up that the woman he killed was a fairy or a nymph and for killing her he was cursed. Some say that he was now a beast, sporting fangs and claws where his human teeth and fingers once were. Others say he was now a creature of the night and stalked the forest when the moon is high for wandering prey.

No had seen the son or the castle where he supposedly lived in years. The excuse that the grandmothers gave was that the forest had grown too thick from the trees and vines for the castle to be found. Since the son had turned out all the servants and land workers after the fire and there was no one to keep the paths clear.

You didn’t believe a word of it. A man with fangs and claws hiding up in a castle to terrorize anyone who came too close was utter nonsense; a fairytale to scare the children and keep them within the town walls. Even if there were such a man, you hardly considered the possibility that he was cursed.

“It's only because you moved here a few months ago,” Mrs. Mooney crooned. As the wife of the town butcher, she was privy to all the gossip that passed by the family shop. She often stood outside, keeping the stall for the smaller scraps or animals they hadn’t managed to sell to the more prestigious customers. “But we older folk remember the little boy who used to run around here while his father conducted business. Spoiled little thing. Always had a pretty pony and the finest clothes. Stuck his nose up at playing with the other children just because they had dirt on their sleeves. Serves him right, what he got.”

“You don’t know what he deserved and what he didn’t,” another graying woman chimed in haughtily. Her dress, though still rough like a peasant’s, was much nicer than the other villagers. Silver curls spilled out from under a white bonnet. Her hands looked coarse from hard labor and her skin kissed for years under the sun. Crinkles stayed permanently in the corners of her eyes, letting you know that she did smile on occasion. You’d never seen her before when you came to the market, but Mrs. Mooney seemed to know her well.

“You would know better than anyone, Feifei,” Mrs. Mooney sneered.

Though now you were intrigued, Mrs. Mooney did not elaborate how the other woman would know anything about this make-believe man.

“That tongue will get you into trouble someday, Johanna.” Adjusting the basket hanging from the crook of her arm, the old woman spared no glance at the meat as she walked away.

Mrs. Mooney clicked her tongue. With a shake of her head, she turned back to you. “So, milady, do plan on any wares today?”

“No, my father already sent Claudette earlier this week,” you said. The smell of the meat was starting to get to you, but you tried your best to keep it off your face. “I simply came down to escape the confinements of home.”

A huff pushed past her lips. “Oh, yes. I’m sure that large stone house must be suffocating.”

Though lashing out would have been easy, you bit your tongue. This butcher’s wife didn’t know your history. She didn’t know that compared to your previous home in the city, this new place was a shack.

It was your mother’s inheritance that kept you, your siblings, and your father afloat. The home, bought long ago by your grandfather who was now passed, was a honeymoon paradise for your parents. After your mother died giving birth to you, the house was locked up to be a refuge only to spiders and rodents since your father couldn’t bear visiting the place alone. He’d poured himself into his work, curating business as he brought investors and merchants together. When a major client lost his ships at sea, one of his managers took off with most of the assets and funds, leaving debts and loans in their place. To pay off the leeches, most of your possessions had to be auctioned off and the home that had sheltered you since childhood was sold to a new family.

Life away from the bustling city wasn’t too awful. You didn’t have to worry about being run over by a carriage since most of the residents here couldn’t afford one. Everyone seemed to know everyone, which was both intriguing to you while also a little bothersome. At first your family, being new, was the center of all the gossip. Rumors of your father or brother gambling the fortune away or you and your sister having scandalized the family and caused you all to hide away ran rampant. Eventually, the mill settled down and you were left in peace. Some of the villagers still gave side eyed glances, but you’d learned to brush them off.

Thinking it was time to head back home, you said goodbye to the butcher’s wife and followed the brown dirt street beyond the wall that surrounded the town until the scenery turned to fields of wildflowers and small farms. You took a right at the fork, already seeing the two-story country home come into view. The tan brick was a bit faded from the sun and thick vines grew up the sides and around the windows. A small garden grew out in front. There was a fairytale essence to the home that made you love it more. In the back, Claudette would be hanging the laundry to dry in the subtle breeze. Father was most likely in his study, shuffling through papers and letters to find a way out of this place. Cosette was probably lying on the old couch in the front parlor, constantly fanning herself as she whined of the woes she was forced to live through. Your brother, Lu, would be sitting on a log, writing in his journal when he was supposed to be chopping wood.

Cosette was right where you had guessed she was. As soon as you walked through the door, she jumped up and hurried to you with her skirt crumbled in her hand.

“Where have you been?” she screeched, her dark hair pulled back into an intricately braided bun. You tried not to be annoyed. She must have had Claudette do her hair when both of them were supposed to be helping with the washing. “Father has news that he’s been dying to share with us, but he refused to divulge what it is until you were here.”

You rolled your eyes at your sister’s impatience. “Surely, you must have known I would have been home eventually.”

She “hmphed” at you before whirling dramatically and stomping off towards your father’s study. You followed her slowly, your stomach swishing with nerves.

Truth be told, you didn’t mind it out here. The country was a great deal quieter than the city, the air cleaner too. The greatest unexpected gift, however, was how often you saw your dear father. As a child, you had to savor every dinner, every private concert in your living room, and the short moments you were able to spend with him in between his travels or meetings. Claudette never carried as she was more invested in the connections she was making with the other well-to-do families and Lu was often tagging along with your father as the eldest and heir apparent. Now the four of you felt more like a family. If you were, by some miracle or fashion, to go back to the city, routine would fall back into its previous structure and you would be alone again.

Lu surprised you by already being in the room when you entered, seated in a corner with a hardened look on his face. It was strangely out of place given his boyish looks often kept his expression soft. Your father looked up from the papers that were neatly piled up on the desk. “Aw, (y/n)! You’re back from town. Did you have a nice walk?”

“Yes, I did,” you aswered cautiously. “The market was full today.” Your eyes flicked towards Cosette, who had taken the only other chair, continuing to fan herself even though the temperature wasn’t anywhere near that drastic. “I heard you wanted to see us all together?”

“Yes! Yes! Um.” Your father looked around, perhaps to see if there was another place for you to sit. As there was none, he went on. “I received a letter from Lu’s old friend, Lin Gao.” Lu perked up at the mention of Gao. None of you had seen him since you came here, thinking that he, like the others, had abandoned you all when the money was lost. Now, that didn’t seem to be the case. “He has worked with several connections and can bring us back into good standing with society. He’s even convinced a few merchants and investors to allow me to broker deals again.” Your father cleared his throat. “There is, however, one condition.”

“What is that, Father?” Lu asked.

“He asked for (y/n)’s hand in marriage.”

The quietest gasp escaped your lips. Gao wanted… to marry you?

As the baby sister, you tended to follow your brother and his friends around, begging for attention and often they obliged you, as long as the setting was appropriate for a child. All of his friends had treated you as their own sister, equally protecting and caring. You’d never suspected them to have thoughts that led into the contrary as you’d grown up.

Lu’s eyes landed on you for a split second, studying your face enough. “Did he say (y/n) specifically?”

“Yes, why (y/n)?” Cosette scoffed. “I would be more than willing.”

“He specifically asked for (y/n)’s hand.”

Cosette closed her fan with a snap. “Well, then. Arrange the wedding so we can get out of this dumpy town.”

But wait. Did you not get a say in this?

Your father leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “The help from Gao would be tremendous. But I will not force anything on to any of you. (Y/n),” he looked at you with conflict in his eyes, “if you do not wish to marry Gao, I will send him a letter politely declining the offer. I can find other means on my own.”

He was giving you a way out, if you so wished. But you couldn’t deny the help this would bring for all of you.

“Can I think about it?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes, of course.”

“What do you mean, think about it?” Cosette nearly flew out of her seat. “What is there to think about? If we are to get our fortune back, then (y/n) must marry him. I would in a heartbeat if he had asked for me.”

“But he didn’t ask for you,” Lu said.

Your father insisted. “Let your sister think about it. To force this upon her would break my heart. I will not have her live unhappily.”

“And what about me! Why should I live unhappily?”

“Enough!” Your father stood to his feet and he slammed his fist down on the desk. You flinched at the noise the collision created. Rare was it for your father to get upset like this. He was usually very levelheaded. “I am still head of this household and you will accept my decision. Now, go!”

With a stomp of her foot, Cosette stormed out of the room like a spoiled child told that she couldn't have a piece of candy. Eyes trained down on the floor, you quietly excused yourself and went upstairs to your room.

Your favorite place in the house was your room, the smallest besides Claudine’s on the first floor. But the trade for it was the reading crook by the window, overlooking the garden. You liked the isolation you could feel when you sat on the bench, knees pulled up close to your chest as your skirts fell over the side. The window was cold as you laid your forehead against the glass. A breeze was moving through, swaying the leaves in the trees and rattling the vines against the stone walls of the house.

What would living with Gao be like? You had never thought of your brother’s friend in a romantic light. Would there be any romance between the two of you? Or would you be condemned to a loveless marriage like so many other girls? Could you live like that?

You had no answers at the moment. You weren’t sure if you would ever have an answer. But a compromise was coming to the forefront of your mind. You didn’t have to say yes right away. Maybe you could meet with Gao, get to know him more, in a different way that how you knew him before. And, if you decided that he was not the kind of man you wanted to spend your life with, if there was no possibility of love between the two of you, perhaps you could convince him to help your father anyway, for sake of his friendship with Lu.

You pictured Gao’s face in your mind, willing yourself to love it. But all that did was churn your stomach.

**

Your father had sent the letter asking if a visit to the city would be possible for you. Gao’s reply came back quicker than expected: yes. He made all the arrangements; he hired the carriage, sent money so you could rest in an inn for a night before arriving in town the next day. Barely a week had gone by since you were first told of this offer and now you were traveling by yourself for the first time in your life.

Cloak wrapped tightly over your shoulders, you kissed your father goodbye on the cheek. Tears were swelling behind your eyes, but you refused to let him see them.

“Be on your best behavior,” he teased. You were the last out of the three to get into trouble. “Write to me as soon as you arrive. Alright?”

“Of course,” you smiled.

Lu patted your shoulder. When you were a child, he showed you affection freely, but now that you were grown, he’d become a bit awkward when other people were watching. Cosette didn’t say a word. She simply fanned herself at a quick rate as smirk rested on her lips. All she carried about was getting back to high society, to the parties and the searching for a husband who possessed a fortune large enough to keep her satisfied.

Your father glanced up at the sky. “Better go now, my dear. The clouds are growing darker. I want you at that inn before the storm comes through.”

“The only way to do that is to go through the forest,” the driver commented from atop the carriage.

Your father seemed unnerved by that observation but gave no protest. “I will wait to hear from you.”

You gave one last kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Goodbye, father. Take care of him, Lu. Will you?”

“Naturally,” Lu said with a chuckle.

You merely nodded to Cosette before stepping into the carriage. The cabby lurched forward and you allowed the small smile that had been straining on your lips to fall away. Anxiety settled in your stomach. You wanted to have a positive outlook on this whole thing. It was better to possibly marry a friend of the family rather than a complete stranger twenty years your senior.

Unclasping the hook that held your cloak together, you let the soft fabric fall behind you on the seat. The literal weight off your shoulders helped you to breathe easier. You closed your eyes and leaned back. There was still a long journey until you would arrive back in a city that you hadn’t seen in months, although it felt more like years. That was another life to you, a past self. One you had been okay with letting go. And now you were uneasily walking back into its arms.

The ground shook, rattling the walls of the carriage. You pushed the curtain out of the way and peaked out the window. Flashes of lightning so bright that not even the thick trees of the forest could keep them back splintered across the sky. The storm had come quicker than anticipated. Raindrops splattered against the dirt floor, starting out slow then growing in pace. Soon it was impossible to see more than five steps in front of you.

The wind grew untamable. The carriage rocked from side to side, the thin wheels ricketing against the strain. A bolt of lightning screamed too close for comfort. The horse reared back in fright as the carriage passed by a ravine. It was all too much. The carriage toppled over, falling down the side of the ravine. You were tossed around the cabby like a rock between a group of children. When the falling finally stopped, you let out a cry of relief. A second cry left your lips, this time for the driver. But no reply came.

The carriage had landed on its side, but thankfully, it had another door to escape through. You clasped the cloak around your shoulders once more and pulled up the hood before pushing the door open and climbing out.

You were soaked as soon as you stepped out of the carriage. The driver was gone. You didn’t know if he was dead or if he had ran away. The horse, the poor thing, didn’t move or whine. Water was slowly rising in the creek from the rushing rain. You had to get out of here. With what little strength you had, you managed to climb back up the side of the hill. A chill froze your fingers and chattered your teeth. You walked in the opposite way that you thought the carriage was heading. Getting back to your home was your only hope. You had never been in these woods and the sky was too dark to tell directions from the sun. The rain was pouring down harder. Each step you took grew weaker. An unseen tree root stuck out of the ground, catching your foot. Shock ran up your arms as you tried to catch yourself when you fell. You couldn’t go anymore. You were too cold, too tired. So you lied there in the mud, wishing for a miracle. The rain soon came to a stop, but you were still too exhausted to push yourself up. Your eyes grew tired. Finally, the lids closed. The sound of horse hooves against the mud grew near, but you couldn't be sure if it was real or simply your imagination clinging to hope.

“We can’t just leave her here, Xao.”

“But what would the master think if we showed up with her?”

“So, you would leave her to die?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then we take her with us! The castle is big enough that he would never even have to know.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Someone lifted you up from the ground, but before you could discover who it was, you lost consciousness completely.

**

You weren’t sure what woke you up. It could have been the splitting headache that pounded at your skull. Or it could have been the shouting coming from the other side of the door.

“Get her OUT of here!”

“My lord, please, see reason. The poor child was dying in that storm.”

“I don’t care. She’s alive now, so get her out!”

“But she’s still sick. The poor thing has a fever. She’s been sweating all night.”

“I do not want her here. No one is to come here, you know that!”

“Let me take care of her. Once she’s on her feet again, I’ll take her back into town.”

“Fine!”

Heavy foot stomps echoed off the floor. One side of the double doors opened and inside stepped the old woman from the market.

You?

“You’re awake,” she sighed. “I can only imagine what had woken you up.” In her hands was a silver tray of different morsels and a tea kettle slowly letting out a flow of steam. Seeing you struggle to sit up, she hurried to set the tray down on the nightstand and help you. “Don’t overexert yourself, miss. You’re not fully recovered from that awful storm yet. You’ve been asleep for two days now.”

Two days! Your father must have been losing his mind when he never received word that you had arrived in town. A coughing fit of your own started up. The old woman gave you a glass of water to calm your throat before adjusting the pillows behind your head. You took in the bedroom that you were housed in. The light gray drapes that hung from the bedposts were old and a little faded but still made from an expensive velvet fabric. The blanket that covered you was soft and warm and smelled of lavender. Cosette would squeal at the size of this place. It was even bigger than her room at the old house in the city.

“Where am I?”

The old woman’s hands stopped before she could pull out the warming pan from the foot of the bed. “You're at the lord’s estate.”

You frowned. “What lord?” As far as you were aware, the closet lord was at least several days ride from town. And you doubted he would have allowed a room to go untouched like this one obviously was.

Sadness fell upon the old woman’s face. “He’s a good man. A good man with a tragic past.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the old woman folded her hands and laid them in her lap. “Do you remember the story Mrs. Mooney was telling you at the market?” You nodded. “This is his home.”

“He… exists?”

“Yes. Though the awful rumors….” She shook her head. “Anyway, yes. But his lordship isn’t accustomed to visitors. I apologize for what you might have heard.”

Perhaps it was the fever, but your curiosity was now out of your control. “Why doesn’t he want anyone here?”

The old woman stood up. “Never you mind. We’ll get you back on your feet and then Mr. Chan will take you back into town.” She poured a fresh cup of tea, handing it to you carefully.

“Do I have to go back to town?”

“We don’t really have a choice, dear. You heard the master.” She eyed you as you sipped on the warm, caramel colored tea. “What is it? Why don’t you want to go back to town?”

You finished off the tea before explaining. “My family wants me to get married, to help the financial situation. At first, I thought I was willing to at least try, to see that man again and find out if I could love him. But… now I’m grateful for the storm.”

“If you don’t wish to marry him, why not say so?”

“Because if my father never restores his reputation and our family falls further into ruin, it will be all my fault.”

The old woman shook her head. “You poor thing. That’s too much weight to bear.” She let out a long sigh. “Try to eat and then get more rest. Your eyes look heavy. We’ll see if we can’t delay your being cured by a few more days.” She headed for the door. After opening on side, she halfway turned back around. “I’m Mrs. Chan, by the way. If you need anything, pull on the cord by the bed. I’ll hear the bell and come to you. Now, rest.”

As soon as the door closed and you were alone again, you felt the weight of your lids growing. Reaching over to the tray, you tore off a piece of the bun and chewed on it slowly. Eventually, you nodded off into a dreamless sleep.

**

Over the next several days, you passed between peaceful sleeps and uncomfortable awareness. Your fever broke on day two, but you still felt weak. Mrs. Chan checked up on you often, keeping you well fed and making sure there was a fresh pitcher of water or tea for you to drink. When you stopped sleeping as much, she brought you a book to occupy your time. But you read through the comedic romance quickly. A tingling was coursing up and down your legs. They needed to move, to be used. You’d been lying in bed for so long you weren’t sure if they even worked properly anymore.

Earlier, Mrs. Chan had stopped by to say she was going into town to pick a few things up at the market. Mr. Chan was to be out on the grounds so if you needed anything it would have to wait for her return.

Curiosity was a dangerous thing. On one hand, you could find nothing of interest in this ancient castle. On the other hand, you could find yourself in the absolute wrong place and have yourself thrown out into the cold before Mrs. Chan could come back and rescue you.

Silly. All of it was. A little walk wouldn’t do any harm. You would make sure to stay near your room and if you heard footsteps, you would run back here in an instant.

With your feet bare and the nightgown Mrs. Chan had given you made of a thinner material, you were a bit cold as you left the comfort of the blankets. But you pushed forth with your curiosity. This grand room was all you had seen of your haven. You wanted to know more about the home of the lord whose memory haunted the village. You stuck your head out first, looking down the hall from either side. It was empty save for the polished suits of armor that lined the sides, sitting between old portraits previous tenants. As quietly as you could, you closed the bedroom door behind you and softly stepped further into the hall. Through the long space you made your way, glancing at every painting as you passed. Some had chipped paint while others’ frames had dulled over the years, but each one was still magnificent, the subject stunningly beautiful in their own unique ways. You weren’t sure if it was the magic of the artist or if the family was truly blessed in that manner.

Every so often you would peer into a room when the door was unlocked. Most of them were bedrooms or small studies. By the collection of dust gathered on most of the furniture, they hadn’t been used in quiet a while. Soon, the hall took a turn, spilling out into the Grand Hall where the other hallways met. You started to go right when a set of double doors down a shorter hallway in the other direction caught your eye. They were bigger than any of the other doors you had seen so far. You hurried to that one instead, intrigued by what might be behind it. Barely able to get it open with your weak arms, you squeezed through the space and stumbled inside. Then you gasped.

When Mrs. Chan had described the library to you, she had said that the family had a fair collection of books. You might have to clarify with her what a “fair amount” really meant.

The library was housed in the back most tower, the shelves built into the walls and going higher than your eyes could see. Ladders made of wood and metal were attached to the spaces between the shelves. They moved freely from side to side to put any book within reach. As a child, you thought your father had the biggest collection of books by any one person in the world. How silly you were. This place could hold twenty of your father’s old library. You whirled around and around, taking in every detail. It was like a fairy tale.

You stepped closer to the wall and ran your hand over the leather bindings. It had been so long since you’d been able to take in the smell of old books. You had only been able to save two of your favorite novels from the auction. They were currently hidden under your bed. If Cosette ever got a whiff of them, she’d sell them to pay for a new dress. As you made your way around the library, you spotted another door, one that nearly blended in with the shelves. Feeling brave from your latest discovery, you tried the handle. It turned with ease. You pulled the door towards you. Sunlight spilled into the library. The secondary room was mostly empty – save for one object. A piano.

Bang!

The door shut in your face, startling you backwards. You stumbled into something hard. Turning to see what it was, you gasped in fright

A tall, dark hair man with the left half of his face covered in a white mask glared at you.

“What are you doing in here!” he shouted, face glowing red with fury.

“I-I-I’m sor-sorry,” you stutter as you scurried back. The door to the room stopped you from going any further. You were trapped with no way to escape. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You were supposed to say in your room,” he continued to bellow, not concerned at all with your fear. “Stay away from this room! Go!”

That last command was enough to send you running, passing the man and leaving the library. You hurried to the Great Hall, to get back to your room as quickly as possible. Looking back over your shoulder, you checked to see if he was coming after you. The hallway was empty behind you. Once safely back in your room, you scurried under your covers as if they would protect you from the masked man.

**

Mrs. Chan gave no indication that she was aware of your little adventure. If the masked man – the lord of this castle, you presumed – had told her, surely you would have been thrown out by now. She did, however, seem upset about something.

“Is everything alright?” you asked before she could leave the room with your empty food tray.

“Oh, it’s nothing I want to trouble you with, dear,” Mrs. Chan said.

You smiled at her. “I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.”

A second went by and then Mrs. Chan sighed. “It’s just the master. He wasn’t been sleeping well. He’s been wondering through the west wing lately and I’m worried about him.”

The west wing? That was where you were headed before the library stole your attention. “What’s in the west wing?”

“Nothing of importance,” Mrs. Chan snapped. It was a harsher tone that you were used to. You lowered your gaze remorsefully. “Oh, dear. I’ve upset you. Don’t worry about and try to get more rest. You need color back in your cheeks.” She left the room, blowing out the lamp before shutting the door and leaving you in darkness.

You woke a few hours later to a loud bang. At first you thought of ignoring it. Then the thought of something happening to Mrs. Chan came into your mind.

Throwing a blanket around your shoulders, you carefully relit the lamp and stepped out into the hallway.

“Hello?” you called out softly. Another bang answered you. It was faint, not coming from this hallway. You followed it, occasionally calling out again. No human ever replied.

You passed through the Great Hall and into the west wing. You should learned, really, from your earlier excursion. But the thought of someone being trouble refused to let you turn back. Now that you were closer to the source, a soft moaning could be heard among the silence. You pressed your ear from door to door, trying to see if it was coming from behind one of them. It was the door on the very end that held back the sound. With enough moonlight coming from the wide window at the end of the hall to see by, you put the oil lamp down on the floor out of the way and went inside.

Even in the darkness, you could see the smoke and soot stained walls. The remnants of a bed stood in the middle of the wood. Hanging behind it was a portrait of a beautiful woman with golden hair and rich brown eyes that stuck out even with half of the painting burned and curled.  

“What are you doing in here!”

You gasped as the lord of the castle stepped out of the shadows. His mask was gone, but he kept the left side of his face covered with his hand. In his other hand was a small torch. With its light you could see the scars on the back of his hand, the tight and lifted skin usually caused by fire. You said nothing, too stunned to find words.

Dropping his left hand, he reached out and grabbed you by the wrist. The scars on his face were now partially visible, but still mostly hidden in shadow and by the locks of hair that had fallen. From what you could see, they matched the scars visible on his hand. “I asked you why you are here!”

“I’m sorry!” Your voice came out in squeaks, fear running you cold despite the proximity of the flame. “I heard noises. I thought someone might be in trouble.”

He sneered at your answer. “If you’re well enough to walk around then GET. OUT!” He practically threw you out of the room.

You landed on your knees but didn’t stay there for long. You scrambled up to your feet and took off down the hall, leaving the oil lamp behind. The nightgown caught on your foot in your haste as you passed the staircase. You went tumbling down the marble stairs, a scream piercing your throat. You couldn’t stop no matter how you tried. When the bottom of the staircase finally came, you were out cold.

[mrs-hatake]

i guess i’m just a playdate to you

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader

Genre: angst

Warning: mentions of character deaths, open and ambiguous ending.

Word Count: 2825

A/N: aaaanndd i’m back with more angst! this is inspired by a kakashi edit on tiktok by alyez_ and i LEGIT got all teary eyed after watching so i just HAD to make you guys sad as well lmao.

p.s: Y/E/C = Your/Eye/Color

p.s.s: not proof read

They say that time heals scars but the person who came up with that obviously never lost the person he loved and cherished the most for if they had, then they wouldn’t have said such a careless thing. 

You were strongly reminded by that quote as you stood amongst hundreds of Konoha villagers in anticipation for Kakashi’s coronation as Konohakagure’s sixth Hokage. 

Everyone had been surprised by the news but they were happy to have such a strong and responsible man as a leader, to no longer feel weak and unprotected but safe and even feared by other villages. Everyone was excited for this day.

But not you.

You were saddened by this.

Suddenly, those around you cheered and applauded as loudly as they can as Tsunade, the former Hokage, stepped onto the podium to address the villagers with a formal goodbye.

Your heart squeezed tightly once your eyes spotted Kakashi standing in the distance, face hidden behind his mask but his eye held no emotion in them. 

There was a lump in your throat and you tried to swallow it away but your throat was as dry as sand paper, making it painful for you to swallow. 

Tsunade’s words fell on deaf ears as tears filled the corner of your eyes and, without even knowing it, you were pushing yourself out of the crowed and somewhere far away from the coronation. The last thing you heard was the crowed screaming and cheering as Kakashi stepped onto the podium next to Tsunade.

-

You’ve been walking for hours. How much exactly, you weren’t sure. All that you knew was that your feet were moving for a very long time and soon you found yourself along the outskirts of the Naka River and the sun setting into the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of red and oranges, reminding you of that special day you don’t think you’d ever forget. 

It was the day of Rin’s funeral and everyone had gathered to bid the young Kunoichi goodbye.

Although you were a regular civilain and didn’t understand the severity of the loss or the sacrifice she had made, you understood the tragedy the village was facing, especially your childhood neighbor Hatake Kakashi.  

Kakashi had wandered off towards the end of the funeral and didn’t bother to stick around for the aftermath of the event. 

Knowing how much Kakashi had suffered and the people he had lost in his younger days, you bit your lip in worry as you set off to find him.

Eventually, you found him sitting on a cliff overlooking Konoha, the sun was setting in the distance and it cast the village in an orange hue. 

The young boy had his knees pulled up and pressed to his chest while his chin rested on his arms atop of them. 

You were positive that there were no words that would comfort the boy so you did the next best thing, you sat next to him with your arm around him and listened to Kakashi as he silently cried.

A tear escaped and rolled down your cheek at the memory but you quickly wiped it away and continued in your aimless walk.

There were rustling sounds coming from one of the bushes in the distance that made you stop in your tracks, your heart beating loudly in your ears in anticipation. Holding your breath, you slowly inched forward and was startled when a small white rabbit jumped from within the bushes.

Your shoulders sagged and a shaky exhale escaped your lips. The small white rabbit stared at you in curiosity, it’s small red eyes blinking up at you.

You offered the harmless creature a small smile but it jumped off deeper into the forest. You watched after it and remembered an early morning similar to this encounter.

When Minato and Kushina died, the entirety of Konoha were in mourn. But no one experienced such a great loss like Kakashi. Right when things were finally starting to get normal and Kakashi had the opportunity to experience what having a loving family was like, his parental figures die, one in battle while the other after giving birth. 

Your eyes never wandered off of Kakashi as you followed him through the woods. You knew that Kakashi would run off faster than the speed of light if he wanted to but you were glad that he was allowing you to be close to him. Though, that didn’t mean you didn’t worry over the boy. 

He had just returned from evacuating the villagers into safety after the sudden attack of the Kyuubi when the former Hokage had informed Kakashi of Minato and Kushina’s deaths.

Kakashi had no reaction. His eyes didn’t well up with tears, he didn’t let out a cry of anguish, not even questioning the Hokage. He just accepted their deaths and walked out of the office.

You had run into him as you were helping your father clean up your mini market when the silver haired teenager walked by. Your eyes lit up and you were about to greet him with a bright smile but when you noticed his hunched form and his hands buried deep into his pockets, you knew there was something wrong.

You quickly ran off to catch up with Kakashi and when you were within reach, you griped his shoulder and turned him around to face you. The sight that greeted you shook you to your core. His eyes were filled to the brim with tears and his cheeks flushed a deep red color. His mask was soaking wet at the never ending tears cascading down his cheeks.

“They’re gone.”

Harshly, you rubbed your eyes to will the memory away.

You’ve known Kakashi since you were a little girl and for as long as you’ve known the silver haired man, he had always been stalked by tragedy. Wherever he went, whomever he had cherished and valued, tragedy would clutch its greedy fingers on them and snatch them away from Kakashi. It happened with his biological parents, his best friends and then with his parental figures.

It was too much for the teenager and it made perfect sense why he ended up joining ANBU. 

“You can’t be serious.”

It had been two weeks since Minato and Kushina’s deaths. The village of Konoha continued on with their lives while the third Hokage returned to his rule.

It was early morning and you were manning the cashier at your father’s mini market. It was a slow and boring day with nothing to entertain you other than a trashy Shinobi magazine with a ‘Top 10 list of the Hottest Shinobi in Konoha.” clutched between your fingers.

It was so quiet that you were about to fall asleep when the door opened and the bells signaled the arrival of a new costumer. Your sleepy expression turned into one of joy as Kakashi walked in and stopped in front of you.

“Kakashi!” Your lips turned upwards into a bright smile, “What can I do for you?”

The teenager said nothing, his hands deep in his pockets, as his eyes scanned the shelves of chewing gum and cigarettes behind you.

“I’m joining ANBU.” He said simply. His voice so quiet that you were certain you misheard him.

You were a civilian and you didn’t know much about the Shinobi world but everyone knew of ANBU. Knew the excruciating and intense training Shinobi went through in order to be masterful and be higher in ranks.

Your smile faltered, “I’m sorry?”

Kakashi’s visible brown eye met yours, “Danzo recruited me to join ANBU.”

Before you could say anything else, Kakashi had turned around and exited the market, leaving you in a stunned daze.

Quickly, you snapped out it and followed after Kakashi.

“Oi, Kakashi! Wait!”

But the boy continued on walking.

Angered, you ran up to him and took hold of his shoulder and forced him around to face you, “What are you doing?”

Kakashi avoided eye contact and said nothing. Your angry aura and the hurt in your eyes ineffective to him.

“Are you seriously joining ANBU or are you playing some mean joke because it isn’t funny.”

“I’m serious.” His eye met yours and you were surprised by the harshness in it. Never in your life had Kakashi looked at you that way. It was so sudden and unfamiliar that you dropped your hand from his shoulder and took a step back.

“It’s dangerous.” You whispered and all that Kakashi could do was shrug his shoulders at you.

“I can handle it.” He said in his quiet, monotone voice.

“You could die!” Your voice grew louder, as if it could somehow explain to Kakashi how stupid joining ANBU was.

He said nothing though and slowly blinked at you. 

When you had nothing else to say, Kakashi turned around and walked away.

Tears rapidly filled your eyes before they rolled down your cheeks as you watched Kakashi walk away from you and, possibly, never coming back.

You hadn’t seen nor spoken to Kakashi for the next twelve years after that day. Your entire routine was thrown out of loop as you lost sleep worrying over Kakashi and fearing for his life. You became so depressed that you couldn’t continue working in your father’s mini market and almost dropped out of school had it not been for Gai who visited you one night to inform you about Kakashi’s well-being. You remember breaking down in his arms, relief suffocating you at knowing that Kakashi was alive and well. 

You didn’t get to see Kakashi until your second year as an elementary school teacher for the civilian children of Konoha. It happened by accident really. You were tidying up the class and preparing for the day’s lesson plan when you had spotted the taller and stronger looking man through the window.

His face was still hidden behind his mask and his right eye was still hidden from sight. He was followed by three children who all had different hair colors; one girl had long pink hair while the two other boys had blonde and black hairs respectively.

His appearance stunned you into silence and you would’ve left the classroom to follow after the man had it not been for your students walking in and announcing their presence.

The second time you saw Kakashi was another coincidence. School had been let out early and you didn’t feel like going home just eat. Instead, you went to Ichiraku’s Ramen shop for lunch.

“I’ll be sure to drop by again!” You called over your shoulders, a melodic chuckle escaping your lips, when you suddenly bumped into someone.

Large hands strongly gripped onto your shoulders to balance your footing and to prevent you from falling, “I’m sorry! I should’ve wa-”

Brown eye met Y/E/C in a startled yet dumfounded expression.

“-tch where I’m going.” You trailed off.

Seeing Kakashi up close was messing up with your head and your heart was beating so loud you feared that it would stop. 

“It’s fine.” His voice was deeper but it still had the quietness in it. Vaguely, you remembered Kakashi’s father having a similar tone of voice.

“Hurry up, Kakashi! You’re paying!” The shouts of a blonde boy sitting on the barstool interrupted your thoughts and the two of you jumped back.

“I should go.” Kakashi stated and rubbed the back his neck.

All you could do was nod your head and watch him walk into the ramen shop. Something deep inside of you told you that won’t be the last time you’d run into the most powerful Shinobi and you could feel a small smile crawl its way across your lips in anticipation.

Things between you and Kakashi were great. Your friendship rekindled and your bond grew stronger than ever. However, Kakashi still kept his distance. And, as an adult and having heard of the risks of the Shinobi lifestyle, you understood and accepted Kakashi’s cautions, especially knowing what kind of childhood he suffered.

And when tragedy struck again with one of his students (you eventually learn as Sasuke) took off with a dangerous rouge Shinobi, you were there for Kakashi.

You were even there when Naruto left Konoha to train with his mentor and Sakura interning for Tsunade, and comforted Kakashi during his loneliness.

And right before the beginning of the Fourth Great War where Kakashi had snuck into your apartment and begged for you to stay safe and wait for him, his brown eye wet with unshed tears, you did as your told and sealed the promise with a kiss to the cheek.

So it made no sense for Kakashi to return to apartment one day after the Great War with his expression resembling the very same one when he had told you he was joining ANBU.

You already knew Kakashi was going to say something you weren’t going to like by that expression alone and you were already shaking your head ‘no’ before he could even say anything else.

“Y/N, listen to me-”

“No!” You shut your eyes tight, not wanting for whatever it was Kakashi was going to say to come true. 

You heard him deeply sigh through his nose and soon felt his strong arms wrap around you, “I’m sorry.” He whispered softly into your ears, in hopes to calm you down, “But I’ve been chosen and they need m-”

But you didn’t want to hear what Kakashi was saying so you walked away from his embrace, “I need you!” You spat harshly, tear streaks on your cheeks.

“I was there for you. During everything, not out of obligation but out of love and you left me to join ANBU. That broke my heart, Kakashi, did you know that?”

The silver haired man didn’t. He said nothing as he watched you run your hand through your locks of hair, making it appear messier than its usual kept style.

“I was alone and depressed. I was scared that i would never see you again.” Teary Y/E/C met his briefly before looking away, “And when I finally moved on and things became normal, you’re back in my life as if nothing happened.” You chuckled humorously.

“And I was there for you when your kids left, I was there for you when literally died, even if only for a couple of minutes, and I waited for you during the war. And when it was finally over, when I thought that we’d finally live our lives like everyone else and finally be together, you want to throw all of that to be a Hokage!”

You were panting and your eyebrows furrowed in sorrow. The tears stopped falling but your cheeks were still wet. “I would be fine if you said you’re going to be Hokage and I could be there for you a-as a friend - maybe something even more if you’ve ever felt that way towards me - but you tell me that you can no longer see me.”

It wasn’t meant as a question, though Kakashi answered nonetheless, “To keep you saf-”

“I don’t give a shit!”

Silence met your ears and once you were able to calm down, You had asked Kakashi to leave.

That was a week ago and you haven’t seen Kakashi until earlier today. 

When your feet halted their movements, blood staining the soles of your feet and your toes in pain, you finally stopped walking at the end of Naka river. 

The sun had completely set and the forest was eerily quiet. You weren’t sure how far away from home you were though, you didn’t care. You just wanted to be as far away from the ceremony as possible.

Sitting down on the grass, you wondered how differently your life could’ve been if you had run into Kakashi outside of the ramen shop. Would you have fallen in love with a civilian that you’d eventually marry? You’d probably have at least two of his kids by now running around your tiny little home. Would you have let them join the Academy if they had asked you to? Probably not.

Maybe you and Kakashi were never meant to be. Your love from your childhood well into your adulthood could’ve been one sided after all. Though, there were moments where you believed Kakashi loved you as much as you did. Maybe not during his childhood but you’ve seen it in his adulthood. The way  he’d look at you when you thought you weren’t looking, those brief touches and him always visiting you after returning from a dangerous mission. You were positive that he loved you when Kakashi had been to your apartment and told you to stay safe before the Great War all those months ago.

Exhaustion settled into you and your eyes soon grew droopy. Resting against a tree, you entertained your mind of thoughts of Kakashi retiring from the Shinobi life and spending the rest of his days with you as you welcomed the cold embrace of sleep.

[feralnumberfive]

I expect no one to read this at all. It’s more of a way to get some feelings off of my chest. This is a look into my personal life and what I went through in 2020. I cried quite a bit while writing this, haha.

My farewell letter to 2020:

To you 2020, the year that shook the world. You’re certainly one to go down in the record books. You changed my life as you did to everyone. To you, the month of March. I had hit the lowest part in my life since the shock of my parent's divorce 11 years ago. My beloved cat had died in October of 2019, a few days short of our one year anniversary of fostering him, which soon turned into us adopting him. It was sudden and unexpected. I still can remember clear as day that horrid call I got from my sister from the vet. “Hey, we need you to come up here. It’s kidney failure.” As she spoke through her tears, I instantly began to cry. I had felt sad for months after that. 

In December of 2019, the adoptive dad of one of my closest friends committed suicide. She was torn apart, having had three people she knew died earlier that year. I stood by her side and watched her cry. We colored together in the counseling room, making small talk and doing anything I could to comfort her. 

From late February into March, another one of my closest friends revealed to me a traumatic experience she went through. She had been raped by a classmate of mine, one who I considered to be good acquaintances. She was a grade younger than me, and was practically completely dependent on me and my friend, as she was too scared to tell her parents. She eventually completely relied on my friend as I became shoved out of the problem. Her story and the amount of support required from her, which she never gave back to me throughout our friendship, made me realize at that moment I had hit rock bottom. I was tired and so sick of it all. This sentence that I'm about to say is one I've never admitted to anyone: I didn't want to be around anymore, or at least alive. I needed somewhere to escape. I didn't want to commit suicide due to expectations I held upon myself. I was also too scared to commit suicide. 

I finally admitted I needed help, which was scary for me to do. In March of you, 2020, I was diagnosed with situational depression. I was soon put on an anti-depressant. It felt good to put a name on it, but little did I know I would pay the price for my relief. Preparing to go off to college, I needed to get a First Class Medical Certificate in order to apply to the flight program at the colloege I wanted to go to. I went and got my FAA Medical Certificate done, ticking off the boxes on my journey to fulfill my life long dream of becoming a pilot. 

Spring Break came and after watching schools around me close, it was announced that we wouldn't be returning until mid April, and then the end of April, then until May. I quickly realized it wasn't possible to return and that unbeknownst to me I had already spent the last days of my Senior year at school in March. A frantic question was suddenly formed amongst my classmates and soon the world: Will the class of 2020 graduate? I, being burnt out, didn't care what would happen to me or my class. We soon became a laughing stock and a sight to pity around the world. Class of 2020, Corona Class, The Class that would be telling this story to their kids. It didn't matter to me. As I held up the “Class of 2020″ shirt my uncle got me with the zeros as tp rolls, I sighed. I just wanted to graduate without getting laughed at. Spoiler Alert: That didn't happen. 

Around this time I ended my friendship with the girl who I cherished but didn't cherish me back. I still to this day can’t exactly understand why I did that. I blocked her and left without saying goodbye. That wasn’t the right thing to do at all. She had been raped and needed support, but here I was leaving her. She always needed and wanted my support but never gave it back. It was always “Aw you have a problem? Here, let’s try this minimal effort plan to help you. That didn’t work? Oh well, let’s get back to me.” This is no excuse at all for my actions of cutting her off. I really still don’t know why I did this. I had hung out with her everyday in the summer of 2019. Here I was, easily letting her go. Jackie, I’m so sorry. I hope you are doing well and get into ISU to follow your dreams of being an engineer. 

In May I received news that still hurts and effects me to this day. I had been denied my Medical Certificate. It wasn't due to me being on an antidepressant, is was due to the fact that I was depressed. This was soul crushing news, but there was still a chance I could reapply for the Medical Certificate if I jumped through multiple hoops. May also provided the announcement that my safe haven in Oshkosh, Wisconsin wouldn't be happening this year. It was definitely understandable due to the virus, but still very saddening to me. It’s really the only thing I look forward to each year, but I understood and agreed on why it was canceled for 2020.

In June I got the news that a beloved teacher of my family and I passed away due to a heart attack and complications of Addison’s Disease. She was the best math teacher I had ever had, and the best in my High School. Math is my worst subject, but she never made me feel stupid like the other math teachers. She always made sure I understood what I was doing. Sometimes when she didn’t feel like having class she would have a free day. She would gossip with my classmates and tell us stories of her youth. Sometimes though she would give us free days due to having intense migraines that sometimes hospitalized her due to her disease. It wasn’t fun to see her like that. 

In June she was hospitalized where even her husband and two kids weren’t allowed in to see her. The only person allowed into her before she died was her twin brother. The family decided to have a public funeral, with tons of people in the community and school district socially distancing and wearing masks to pay their respect. I began to cry as I listened to her husband tell everyone that he wasn't ready and was so scared to be a single parent. Their children were both under ten, and were now motherless. Mrs. Johnson it was so hard saying goodbye to you. I loved you so much, and I still do. You gave my friend who had lost her dad food and comfort. You did so much not only for my family and I, but for everyone in the community and school district. I miss you so much. 

Hot days came with hazy skies. Everyday I checked the wildfire smoke map as I watched the sun turn bright pink as the sun became a blazing red when the sun went down. For weeks our sky looked hazy. Some days looked cloudy, but it was actually smoke. As someone who lives the Midwest, this was quite surprising. 

In August I experienced something that will forever be remembered by me and everyone who lives in my state. A Derecho tore through and ravaged my hometown and the state that I dearly love. We watched through the window as trees snapped in half and branches and leaves whirled around everywhere. We watched through the window as water roared down the road, appearing as if a stream had started right next to us. We watched in fear as shingles were torn off and large items were blown through our yard. As the electricity flickered out, we wondered if we would be crushed by either tree that were on two sides of our house. Wet leaves were torn apart and slammed into our window, where they stayed there for a month afterwards. They looked like confetti, torn into thousands of tiny pieces. 

To the branches and trees I still see today in the neighboring towns and cities, broken reminders of the damage done. To you, the metal grain bins that still sit out in the flattened cornfields. Our once tall and proud cornfields that are a proud symbol of my state were now flattened to the ground, completely parallel to the rich farming soil that it stood in. Painting the countryside in flat waves of green with splotches of silver from grain bins and white from barns and houses damaged. Our proud stalks became damaged goods that costed us billions. To the buildings that still show their battle scars from months ago, the houses with the tarps on their roofs and the old wooden barns that couldn't handle the 140 mph. To you, Donald J, Trump, the President of the United States who was supposed to tour Cedar Rapids to exam the damage that still lies there today. You stayed in the airport and immediately left after getting your business done. You didn't care about us, you were there to do business and leave to start your campaigning.

My small town was able to clean up within a month or so, but even still TODAY the bigger cities are littered with damage. There are tree trunks and branches scattered along roads. Thousands of houses still have tarps on their houses and siding missing. 

In August my grandma was also diagnosed with Dementia. I've watched her deteriorate over the past few months. Every time we call she forgets that I’m not in school. Sometimes she forgets my name. When we tell her we’re on our way to visit outside her window, she forgets within 10 minutes. Grandma, I hope you never forget that I love you.

In September I finally met with a therapist. I am so thankful to be working with her. After months of my family getting angry and upset at me for being scared to go to the store, my therapist diagnosed me with Social Anxiety. I was so relieved to be diagnosed with it and to be working out the issues I have with my therapist. We work together weekly to help me become a better and more comfortable version of myself. 

Over the summer months the health of my already diseased cat took a steep decline. She was my cat, and I felt powerless as I slowly watched her die. She could no longer stay inside due to her having constant accidents. As we made our plan to take her to the vet to give her a peaceful death, I received a heartbreaking call from my mother on a cold September night. My little Jill had passed away in her sleep on our porch. I came over to say goodbye to my baby as I pet her cold fur one last time. I love you my little Jilly Bean and I miss you everyday. I miss and love you so so so much. 

September also brought the news that a precious B-25 had a crash landing. It always hurts to hear about a Warbird crashing or getting damaged. I was happy to hear though that they were going to fix it back to airworthiness.

In October I had to make a difficult decision with the FAA. Do I try to visit four different doctors for phycological examinations in order to complete my Medical Certificate or do I wait to get off my medicine and start feeling better on my own? I opted for the second part due to the decline of visiting all of those doctors coming up in November. We had been given that option early in the year, but Covid prevented us from traveling out of state to see those doctors. I sent a letter to the FAA to let them know what I was doing. I received a letter about a month ago that stated that I still needed to visit those doctors or something like that. I honestly didn’t look through it that well because it’s just such a pain in the butt.

Another thing about you 2020 is that you provided me with he opportunity to meet amazing people. I began to watch The Umbrella Academy in September, but I decided to make my account on October 1st. I’ve met tons of funny and talented people on here. The show itself had provided me tons of comfort. It has given me the courage to start writing fanfiction for it along with starting back up on drawing fanart

The end of 2020 has slowed down for me. One of my aviation heroes died this year, Mr. Chuck Yeager. It was heartbreaking for me to hear that. One of the worst days for me was ironically on my birthday in December. I felt really bitter and down and just wanted to sit in my room, but I didn’t. I don’t like celebrating my birthday anymore. As I get older it feels less and less special and in turn I feel sad about it. Another reason why is that I don’t like having a fuss made about it. I don’t like the attention from it haha. It’s okay though because even though this year I felt upset I eventually felt a bit happier as it turned to night. 

This year I witnessed history being made. Let me be clear that history is made every year, but this year was very eventful. I witnessed innocent black lives being slaughtered by the very people who are sworn to protect everyone. It’s so disappointing and soul crushing to see all of this. I don’t know if I’ve made it clear on here, but I strongly stand with the BLM movement. I may not understand what they haven been going through for decades, but I stand with them to make things right. Black Lives Matter, not All Lives. All Lives only matter when it’s actually true and Black Lives are included. If you saw a house on fire in an entire block of houses, you wouldn’t say “All Houses Matter!” No they don’t, that house on fire matters. Black Lives Fucking Matter, and All Cops Are Bastards.

To you, the Pledge of Allegiance. Everyday in elementary school I proudly held my right hand over my heart as I stared up at Old Glory and recited you. This year helped me realize that “With liberty and justice for all.” is total bullshit. The only thing I truly appreciate about my country now is the scenery and nature it provides. 

To you 2020, as I finish writing this letter on December 31st. You’ve made me cry a lot, including right now. You’ve deeply effected my life and brought me lots of sorrow. Despite all of this, I don't feel upset about you. Yes, you gave me some events that will always haunt me but that’s okay. 2020 even though you’ve hurt me, you’ve also shaped me. Yes, you also made my lose faith in my country and humanity, but I can only hope for the best. You’ve pushed me to become a better version of myself. 

So to you 2020, you’ve been a hell of a year. I’ve hated and loved you, but mostly hated you. I went through some shit, but others have gone through worse this year. To those of you who have had a very hard time this year, I love you. I sincerely hope things get better for you. Friend or stranger, you can always rely on me as someone to talk to, to rant or vent to, and to cry to. This year was excruciating, but don’t give up. It has ended and a new year has begun. Sure 2021 may also be bad and we’re all exhausted from 2020, but let’s fight till the end. 

[edward-richtofen-queen]

Lost Girl's Lullaby ★Chapter Two★

Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Fandom: Dead by Daylight (Hallowed Blight Event)

Character(s): All Killers (Focused on Blight Cosmetics), All Survivors (Focused on Blight Cosmetics), Female!Reader, Vigo (Mentioned), Benedict Baker (Mentioned)

Relationship(s): All Killers/Reader (Friends), All Survivors/Reader (Acquaintances), Phillip Ojomo | The Wraith/Reader

Overview: It had been months since you'd arrived in the place you had inevitably been placed in—The Fog as it was named. You understood the basis of how to survive and escape, but you were drastically different than the others—you sympathized with the people and creatures that were hurting you and your so called friends; You remembered vividly your first day of being in the realm. What will you do when The Blight appears and takes over your little world? Which side will you end up on—Killers or Survivors?

Warning(s) for this Chapter: Sympathy for Killers

Chapter Song Inspiration: Phantom of the Opera—Prague Cello Quartet

Notes: Welcome back! This chapter was highly requested after the first one! It was extremely fun to write and took a long while to create. There will be some implied ships—mostly killers/killers and survivors/survivors (and maybe some killer/survivor)—so if you don't like them being together, please ignore them (It's not really important to the story, but I like the interactions they will make in the future). Also important—the killers and survivors won't be able to use each other's perks, they're stuck with their own and the "free" ones. Maybe in the future I'll let them use each other's? Anyway, thank you so much for the love and support and I hope you enjoy! Journal Entries from the DBD Wiki!

Dedications: @daylightbydead, @insearchofnewdreams, @irageneve and @ameliafireheart!

Taglist: N/A

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Killer Campfire—The Fog

"Well, it does seem we have another survivor on our hands, don't we?" The smooth and deep voice from the large man in front of you made you shiver—you were in some trouble, weren't you? Your mouth had sealed itself shut, not saying a word as you cowered under his unnerving gaze. The other killers, made up of creatures and humans alike, seemed just as silent as a thick blanket of tension was placed over the camp. Behind you, The Wraith placed his hands comfortingly on your shoulders, his mere familiar presence a warming comfort.

"Since no one seems to want to speak—or some of you who refuse or are unable to—I will introduce myself and yourselves. It seems you've already met Phillip, The Wraith," He gestures an open hand to the man behind you as he makes a soft purr noise from his throat. "I am Evan Macmillan, known as The Trapper in trials. The large woman at the start of the row is Anna—The Huntress." The woman known as Anna wears a beautifully crafted bunny mask aged and weathered, a large axe resting in her hands as hatchets dangled at her waist. She only nods her head, a tune vibrating inside her throat as she hummed.

Several minutes later, you had introduced to everyone as you stayed silent and acknowledged them as they did you. Only a couple seemed to really speak—like Herman Carter; The Doctor along with Freddy Krueger; The Nightmare. Oddly enough, for killers meeting you for the first time they didn't seem as unwelcoming as the survivors were. Everyone seemed to make conversation as normal as Phillip picked you up and sat down, having you extremely close to make sure no rouge killer would try to kill you. Sally, the woman dressed in all white from head to toe, floated over to the log you were seated on. "Phillip's taken quite the interest in you, hasn't he?" She speaks softly and sweetly to you as you feel Phillip stir behind you.

"He's very sweet," You finally speak, his lips pressed to your forehead again. "Well, I'm here to fill you in for what Evan missed out on," Sally speaks, fixing her gown as she sits properly on the log. "You will encounter us each at least once this week. Depending on who you go against, they'll try and go easy on you so you can learn what they do. Once you fully develop your potential and perks, we'll treat you like any other survivor in trials but treat you normally outside of them," Sally's sweet voice explains in an almost professional voice as you nod.

"The Entity has taken an interest in you as well, she's letting you see us out of trials—Anyway, she dropped off a gift for you," Sally hums, a frail journal in her hands as she hands it over. It looks extremely old, dust painting the top and the pages ripped and yellowed brown. Opening the journal, you skimmed through the pages to see beautifully written cursive aged into its pages. Some of the pages didn't have dates on them, but one section of the journal was stuffed to the brim with paper on top of its entry. "Do you happen to know what day it is, Miss Smithson?" You ask politely as she nods. "It's October 12th, I believe—may I ask why you ask?"

You nod as your fingers brush over the words October 19th on the top of the page. "Just seeing if these dates line up." She leans over to look at the page and is confused under her pillow case. The date she can read, but the actual entry itself was definitely not in any type of language she'd ever read but she internally shrugs. You yelp as Phillip picks you up suddenly, carrying you like a bride as Sally gave a soft giggle. "It seems like it's time for you to go back to your camp. Trials start up too soon it seems. Please come back to visit sometime, will you?"

Carrying you back into the woods, the welcoming chill of the thick fog made the atmosphere oddly comforting. The loud chatter of survivors in the distance made Phillip stop and set you down, his hands grazing your own as he leaves a goodbye kiss to your knuckles. You blush as you lean to kiss his cheek in the same manner with a large, goofy smile on your face. He turns and wails his bell as he disappears into the darkness, you finding Claudette among the crowd to sit next to.

★。＼｜／。★

"I think Phillip's got himself a new obsession."

"It seems more like an infatuation than an obsession—he isn't a obsessive killer, you know."

"You know what I mean, Herman."

"Don't sass me, Evan."

★。＼｜／。★

The cool wisps of fog slid from your form as you arrive in your second trial that day, this place flourishing in dead corn stalks and another large decrepit home. A shack sat eerily in the corner of the the realm as very large unmoving tractors sitting parallel across from each other. The sound of a whirring chainsaw made you click to the only two people who wielded them back at the campfire—The Hillbilly or The Cannibal. Moving amongst the thick stalks, the sound of a chainsaw made you jump to the side as The Hillbilly ran (more like flew) past you. He had no heartbeat for some reason as a generator finished in the direction he was running to. Maybe that was one of his perks Sally was speaking of?

You crept to an opening in the field to find Claudette working on a generator as you whispered to her to let your presence be known. Leaning to work on the generator with her, another male (Dwight as you remembered) came to work with you as well. He seemed nervous and paranoid twenty-four seven, but one of his perks seemed to help the generator proceed a little faster than before. He tries conversation, which you oblige to as you try to get to know him. The sound of a distant chainsaw made you shiver, a bad feeling boiling in your gut. "We've got to move—!" You yelp as you push Dwight from the Generator as The Hillbilly practically barrels to hit the large piece of machinery.

Scurrying away, your feet hit the ground hard as you ran. Turning around, the speeding figure hit your back as pain spread throughout your back while you let out a pain as you tumbled to the ground. The Hillbilly gave a pained whine as he lowered his chainsaw, patting your head in apology. Leaving you on the floor, he shook his head in apology once more as he revved his chainsaw and ran away from you. Claudette was by your side a minute later, a med kit snug in her grasp. Popping open the red container, she started by rubbing a disinfectant over your wounds. "I didn't know he'd come after you," She spoke softly, wrapping your wounds tightly as you hiss in pain.

"I have—Ow! To get used to this pain if I plan—Oww! On surviving," You speak through locked teeth. Claudette hums in response as your able to stand once again, your wounds had magically disappeared and you felt new again. "Trust me, the hooks are much worse," She warns as you follow behind her quickly. She then explains the do's and do not's of going against the killer. "You know a lot about him, Claudette—I don't know whenever to take that as a good thing or a bad thing," You coo teasingly as she blushes.

"He's just a kind person at heart, even if he looks drastically different from us—he's still a human being," Claudette speaks, her voice having an undertone of sorrow and pity. Your hand finds her shoulder as you give her a smile. "He deserves respect regardless of his appearance—very well said, Claudette," You praise, her face churning in happiness. The trial didn't last that much longer after that, Nea being Memento Mori'd because she lingered too long in the trial after the gates were open and everyone being hooked at least once.

Being enveloped in the darkness as you ran from the exit gates, you were dropped into the killer camp once again. There were less killers than before, most likely in trials as you has been moments ago. Herman Carter sat in a proper chair—which was odd considering the fact of it being a campsite. His white irises caught yours as the tight mouth guards came loose to fall to the sides of his face. Curious of the mysterious man, you crept to him as he slipped a pair of slightly cracked reading glasses to his nose.

"Little minx, it's been a short while. How was your trial? Get hooked for the first time?" His voice struck bells of whiskey and honey as he spoke, groveling at each word that slipped from his chocolate lips. You shrug at his first question and nod to his second, the journal still hooked to your hip. A smile played on his lips as he examined you and psychologically analyzed you—you were different, he figured. The Entity was picky with her choices in survivors and killers, and the fact that a survivor was so able to mingle with the killers after trials if they willed it was fascinating.

"What make you different?" He asks, his finger under your chin as you closed your eyes. You trusted him by will and heart, even though your mind was sending you different signals. To follow your heart or to follow your brain? Shaking your head to yourself, you settle on a log not too far from Bubba (his nickname) as he polishes his chainsaw. You decided to crack open the journal and begin to read, fingers following the words as you looked over them.

❝19 October - The Night

It is impossible to describe the horrifying scenes I have witnessed... death and misery, in every shape of terror, rule this place. I can no longer recall how I have come to this place. All I remember is the opaque, milky fumes of opium in the murky den hazing a sweet, welcoming abyss. I awoke to dreadful screams in this endless night, at the feet an old tree that leaked foul-smelling fluids. I know not how to reach those poor souls, nor do I want to. Keeping a record is all I can do to make sense of it.❞

Closing the journal, hands wrapped around your eyes as you stiffened. The familiar purr of Phillip eased your still frame. Sitting down next to you, you lay your head against his shoulder as you ease to sleep. When you awoke in your dream, your world was black—pitch black but enough to make sure it wasn't too dark, more like a grayish black than midnight. A voice called out to you in the darkness, it's voice layered in thick whispers.

Hello, Little Lamb

[thevampirediariesdiary]

1.16 There Goes the Neighborhood

I’ve been going off on my own pet tangents for plenty of episodes in a row now, so how ‘bout we return to what is ostensibly the focus of the season?  Let’s spend an episode talking about Stefan and Elena.  

Turns out, that’s even difficult for them to do. “Damon hasn’t said a word to me,” Stefan tells Elena, “every time I try to talk to him, he shuts me down.”  “Do you think he’s still trying to find Katherine?” she asks.  “I don’t know,” he says, sounding reluctantly impressed by the drama of it all. “He waited 145 years only to find out that Katherine could not care less.  I mean, that’s gotta hurt, right?”  “And it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy!” Elena says flatly.  Stefan smiles at her, endeared by the rage coming from her tiny, loving person.  “You have every reason to be upset with him,” he tells her.  “Mhmm,” Elena agrees.  “Have you thought any more? about what you’re going to do?” Stefan asks.  “About what? Isobel, my vampire birth mother, who’s related to my vampire ancestor Katherine, who screwed over your vampire brother? Nah, I haven’t thought about it at all.”  “Sorry I brought it up,” Stefan says.  “It would just be nice if we could get through one day without having to deal with any of it,” Elena complains, “no vampire mother, no brother…”  Stefan raises his eyebrows. “No vampires at all?” She softens, gives him the cutest smile in the world.

“No vampires but you!” He gazes back at her, completely smitten.

She goes on, “I just wanna get us back to normal stuff, like, school, and homework, and here’s a thought: fun.”  Stefan faux gasps. “Oh, that sounds good to me, when do we start?”  Elena giggles, and they walk off down the hall together.

Caroline and Matt are in the same hallway, trying to figure out what they’re going to do that night, which is complicated by 1) the fact that Matt’s mother has decided she wants to live in her house again, and Caroline doesn’t want to be nice to her, because “I’m sorry, it’s hard for me to show kindness to people who hate me.  I’m not that evolved.”  And 2) the fact that Matt gets distracted by Elena and Stefan kissing goodbye in the hallway.  Caroline’s solution is to pitch a double date to them: “The couple dynamics have changed, and there’s been a little awkwardness…and I think it’s important for us to get over it.”  Elena is extremely reluctant, but Stefan pipes up that it sounds like a good idea, it sounds like…fun.  Elena agrees. Stefan truly is the most likable when he’s encouraging people to live life well, to be unafraid and joyful in all their everyday moments. Since that’s the theme of this episode, I unequivocally enjoy him.

I won’t be paying much attention to the tomb vampires’ unrest subplot, because I generally found the tomb vampires very blah as a big-bad.  But I will say that Harper scares himself by accidentally opening a voicemail on Anna’s phone, and then cheerfully asks if it was her boyfriend, as if he genuinely couldn’t be happier for her.  i.e., Harper continues to be too good, too pure.

Pearl and Anna pay Damon a visit, and remind us that they have no living person residing in the house and that therefore anyone can get in.  Pearl is very happy to know that Damon has infiltrated the council, and wants to know everything he knows, and to stop the circulation of vervaine amongst townspeople. “What exactly are you trying to achieve?” Damon asks, finally.  “Mystic falls is our home, Damon,” Pearl tells him. “They took that from us, our land, our home…it’s time we rebuild.”  “What, are you crazy?” Damon says. “That was 1864, wake up woman, the world has moved on!” Pearl continues calmly, “As a reward for your help I’m willing to give you what you want most.”  “I want nothing,” Damon shoots back.  “Katherine,” Pearl says.  He’s taken aback

But of course, recovers quickly.

He points out that Pearl has been in the tomb, and can have no way of knowing where Katherine is.  Pearl insists they were friends long enough that she knows how to find her.  Damon isn’t swayed: “I no longer have any desire to see Katherine ever again, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to play the role of your little minion.”  But, as it turns out, Pearl wasn’t looking for a negotiation.  She’s 400 years older than Damon, and he will do what she tells him, or she’ll rip him limb from limb.  To prove the point, she sticks her thumbs in his eyeballs. It’s gross.

Stefan picks up Elena at her house for their date, and brings flowers, by which she is delighted.  “I figured it’s a date, why not do it right,” he says.

She tells him it’s not too late to cancel, that maybe they were never meant to get to the normal part of dating after all, but Stefan says that worry is exactly why they ought to go.  “We’re gonna go out, have some fun, try to remember that we don’t have to be so serious.”  For Elena “I carry everyone else’s hurt in my heart” Gilbert and Stefan “Brooding is my cardio” Salvatore, this is great advice.

Damon turns back up at the bar, orders his usual. Kelley Donavan ogles him.  “You’re new around here.”  “On the contrary,” he answers, “I am very old.” As much as Kelley, to use Caroline’s phrase, “oogs me out”, what becomes very obvious in this scene is that she and Damon are alike in certain ways.  When Damon asks where she’s been, she answers “Around, about”, and he echoes “Been there.”  She says she thinks the manager blew off her interview, because last time she was in town she slept with her boyfriend, and when Damon says that’s not very nice, she simply says “It happens”.  “Yes, it does,” he agrees.  Damon and Alaric have in common that they’re both spurned and abandoned – but Damon and Kelley have in common their coping mechanisms.  And what appears slightly comical and even a little sexy on Damon, reveals itself as selfish and hurtful, and a bit pathetic on Kelley.  And he’s had a century and a half longer than her to learn that lesson, and still hasn’t.

Damon and his new friend are joined by Jenna, who begs off a drink, claiming that she’s “all responsible now”.  “Take a night off,” Kelley tells her, “it’s good for the soul!”  “It’s great for the soul,” Damon puts in.  Jenna sits down, accepts a shot; “This is not gonna end well.”  “Can’t wait,” Damon says.  The kids’ double date is at a booth just across the way, and they rapidly notice that three out of four of their legal guardians (spurious, in the case of Damon) are getting trashed at the bar.  Damon salutes them with his empty glass.  But actually, it’s not quite as unwholesome as it first appears – Jenna, at least, is trying to get through to Damon: “Don’t be grumpy, it can’t be that bad.”  “You’d be surprised,” he says, depressively. “The primary reason for my existence has abandoned me, and after today’s events, the remains of the shaky ground I walk on are about to go kaboom.”  He bobs his eyebrows at Kelley, and suggests, “Let’s get hammered.” “Let’s,” she agrees.

“At least they’re having fun,” Caroline says, a bit bitterly since she’s being subjected to her current boyfriend talking about his ex-girlfriend and her ex-boyfriend blatantly flirting with her boyfriend’s mom.  “They’re drunk,” Elena corrects.

It can be both... More reminiscing takes place, which Caroline initially participates in and then which becomes another Matt-and-Elena story.  Caroline excuses herself, asks Elena to come with. This is when the legal guardians finally realize their charges are under the same roof as they are.  “Quick, hide, we’re not here,” Jenna tells Kelley.  “Why, where did we go?”  “Children, under our care, five o’clock. This is not role modelish.”

Meanwhile, Jeremy has been all over the vampire chatrooms, asking for details about killing and turning, and asking people “are you a believer”.  It’s painful. Anna turns up looking to hang out; he recovers from his shock and sets up a videogame.  He tells her he’s working on another vampire paper – and despite initially encouraging him to take his ancestor’s journal seriously, she now claims she made it all up.  Jeremy doesn’t buy it.

Stefan and Matt have been left alone to play pool together.  “Is there anything you’re not good at?” Matt asks wryly.  “Double dating?” Stefan answers. “This is all kinda new to me.  I usually…keep to myself, I don’t always fit in.” “That’s because you’re that guy,” Matt tells him, probably taking this out of the same cryptic phrasebook from which Tyler got ‘we people’.  “What guy?” Stefan asks.  “The guy who seems like he has everything, so the people that don’t kinda run the other way,” Matt says.  Stefan seems honestly taken aback.  “Is that what I seem like?”  “Pretty much,” Matt answers.  “Huh,” says Stefan, “what a dick!”  “Yeah,” says Matt, laughing.

Stefan has made a friend, and I am honestly so, so proud of him.  I just wish Lexi was still alive so they could all be friends together.

The girls, on the other hand, are struggling. “The point of this was to show him how much you liked Stefan, not hopscotch down memory lane,” Caroline tells Elena accusingly.  And when Elena comes out of the bathroom, she runs into a tomb vamp.  But Elena’s picking up on how things work in this world of vamp hearing and sneaking around oblivious humans – she pretends to be texting, and lets Stefan read it over her shoulder: That man over there just called me Katherine.  They consider cancelling the rest of the date, but Elena insists she’s going to get her whole day of normal: “If there’s another vampire in town, he’s still gonna be here tomorrow.”  (Funny, that sentiment sounds a little familiar, I wonder where it came from?)  They all go to the Salvatore house to avoid the dubious grown-ups, where Matt sticks his foot in his mouth about dating Elena again, and Caroline stalks off. Matt apologizes to…Stefan, which is an odd choice, but Stefan is incredibly sensible and mature about it: “You guys have a history, ignoring it doesn’t do anybody any good.”  Nothing gets in the way of bromance.  Elena tries to reassure Caroline, but doesn’t have much luck.  “I’m Matt’s Elena backup, I’m your Bonnie backup,” Caroline tells her.  “You don’t get it.  Why would you? You’re everyone’s first choice.”  The boys drive up in Stefan’s sports car that Matt fixed in less than five minutes, Stefan tells Caroline and Matt to take it for a spin. Stefan asks Elena if she’s alright, they hug.

Jenna ditches Kelley and Damon at the bar when things progress to cherry-stem shenanigans, and runs into the aforementioned tomb vampire. “Hot guy plus drunk me equals very bad things,” she tells him. He tried to compel her, and she just snorts and giggles.  Thank goodness for vervaine.

Jeremy, as usual, is making terrible life decisions, like deliberately cutting his palm while making sandwiches in an attempt to out Anna as a vampire.  Because nobody on this show has any self-control, it works.  She slams him into the fridge and, at his invitation, feeds on him.  It’s weird and uncomfortable, and I’m glad Jenna interrupts.  “Jenna, hey, what’s up?” says Jeremy.  “Regret,” says Jenna.  Jenna, you have made so many fewer mistakes than almost everyone you interacted with this episode.  Give yourself a teensy break.

Matt finally gets to make a speech!  “Did I pass?  The whole double date thing was obviously a test to see how I’d do around Elena…Look, it’s my fault, I made it pretty clear early on that Elena still means something to me.  But, all that talk, that was just two old friends and some memories.  Tonight wasn’t about me and Elena, I was there because I wanted to be with you.  And I don’t know what this means or what we are, but I do know you are the only person I wanna be in this car with right now, and I don’t even know if that makes sense, because I’m not really that good at expressing myself –”  “No, no,” Caroline interrupts, “I think you’re doing just fine.” 

But what was finally shaping up to be a nice evening ends uncomfortably, when Damon brings Kelley home to a houseful of high-schoolers, one of whom is her son.  Kelley makes a hasty exit, Matt follows her, Elena volunteers to drive Caroline home. “Normal people don’t have chaperones or bodyguards or babysitters,” she tells Stefan.  And when he says he worries about her, she says, “Stefan I can’t live every minute afraid that someone’s going to come after me.  I won’t. That’s not living.”  Stefan goes back in; Damon reopens the lines of communication to say, “Don’t look at me like that.”  “Are you crazy?” Stefan asks him.  “Save the lecture,” Damon starts, but we don’t get to hear what I’m sure would have been a deeply awkward conversation, because two of the tomb vamps jump through the window and attack them.  Stefan kills one, the other flees. “I remember them from 1864, they were in the tomb!” Stefan exclaims. “Yeah…about that,” says Damon.

I know Stefan has a chest wound, but he really looks like he’s pearl-clutching here, and I love it.

Elena calls Stefan to let him know she got home safe, and tells him, “I had a really nice time on our date tonight.”  “Such a liar,” Stefan retorts.  “No, in a way, it was exactly what it was supposed to be.” He smiles. “I had a really nice time too.”

Anna pops into the Gilbert house to scold Jeremy for being reckless.  He says he took the risk because if it’s true that vampires are real, maybe it’s true that there is an explanation for what happened to Vicki – oh, and also, he wants Anna to turn him.

Music Moments: Erin McCarley’s “Lovesick Mistake” plays when Caroline is confessing that she feels like a backup: “I've gotta find someway/To fumble right through this new heartache, it's torn me apart/Oh lovesick mistake, turn me away”. And Parachute’s “The Mess I Made” plays during Matt and Caroline’s kiss in the car. “Should've held my ground/I could've been redeemed/For every second chance/That changed its mind on me.”

Eyebrow Watch: 

previous episode // next episode

[overwatchimaginations]

Can i request that the reader is actually hanzo's and genji's sister that they kept hidden from overwatch and the world but they have to tell the team about her when she starts to get hunted by talon

You loved your brothers. You really did. However, what you didn’t love was that whilst your brothers were out gallavanting with Overwatch, you had to stay behind and be kept hidden.

“It is for your own safety, (Y/N).” Hanzo explained. He had come back to your safehouse in Hanamura. To the rest of his team in the dropship, it was a visit to his previous home so it didn’t look too suspicious. “I just wish to go with you. I don’t want to be stuck here while you and Genji are out, facing danger every day!”“(Y/N), there is a fine line between wanting and needing. I know you do not want to stay here, but we need you to. With the forces of Talon becoming greater, so does the risk of you being found out and being put in danger.”

You huffed. Being the younger sister of the two ninjas was no easy feat. They were always protective of you, always wanting the best for you. Even if that did mean no one knowing of your existence

“Let me come back with you. Please?” Your eyes widened, eyelashes fluttering.Hanzo raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, his well known stern look on his face. You frowned.“Fine. Okay. I’ll stay.”

You of course didn’t plan on staying.

Once Hanzo had hugged you and bid you goodbye, you began grabbing your necessities and shoving them into a small backpack. Toothbrush, deodorant, comb, money, map, clothes. Done.

You opened the door of the safehouse and took in a deep breath of fresh air. The streets weren’t overly busy, but busy enough to lose yourself in the crowd should you need to.

You had a nagging feeling. A sense that someone had their eyes on you. Looking over your shoulder, there was no-one in your immediate vicinity that you could spot looking at you. Shaking it off as nerves of disobeying your big brother, you carried on stalking through the streets of Hanamura to the station.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around your wrist and your heart went through your chest. “What are you doing?!” You tried to wrench your arm away from the assailant.“(Y/N).”You stopped. You stared. It was your other brother, Genji.“Where are you going, (Y/N)?”“You haven’t seen me in months and that’s the first thing you ask?”Your arm went slack. “Hanzo had said to me that you wanted to join us. He asked me to follow you.”“Yes, well, when you leave your younger sister alone things tend to get, erm, lonely.”“Hush, (Y/N), please.” Genji looked over both of his shoulders before leading you towards a secluded shop opening.

Before you could even open your mouth to confront Genji, screams were heard from across the street. A confused, fearful look crossed your face, opposite to Genji’s which showed annoyance.

“This is why you should have stayed at the house.” You frowned, lips parting to say-“Stay out of sight. Do not let anybody see you, (Y/N).”“Is this that.. Talon?”Genji nodded.“Hide, sister. I will be back.”He stalked off towards where the screams and now explosions were coming from.

You thought it would be best to follow your brother’s advice and jogged down a small alleyway, out of sight and in the shadows. What you hadn’t expected was to see two men dressed in black uniforms, sporting an insignia you had never seen before. It had two arches, resembling a rams horns.

Oh shit.

Your feet skidded on the ground to try and stop and run the other way, but they had already clocked you and soon enough had their weapons pointed at you.

“Freeze.” One of the men chuckled.

You spread your hands out and held them at head height to show you were unarmed. You gulped.

The second man raised his hand that wasn’t holding his weapon to his ear.

“Boss. We found her. Practically ran straight into us.” He spoke into his earpiece.

Wait, what?

“Yeah, the Shimada sister.”

Shit. How did they know who you were?

You wanted to run. You wanted to call out. You wanted to do anything that that stopped these men pointing their guns at you.

“Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!”

Genji appeared and then disappeared, a swift strike through the soldiers and they slumped on the floor. He grabbed your wrist again, not as gentle as the last time.“Come. We must leave.”“Genji.. I-” You were in shock. Your brother had just killed those men and-A yank on your hand sent you running. Where? You don’t know. You managed to keep up with your brother, eyes watering with unshed tears.

After 5 minutes he slowed down, taking you to a quiet street, bringing you against him in a tight hug.“I am sorry you had to see that.”You looked back up at him, tears finally falling and breathless.“Those men.. who were they?”“Talon. They were after you.” He loosened his arms and looked down at you. “Hanzo and I were on our way to our usual visit here, but it appears as though we were itercepted. We know they have recently recruited a new hacker. Whether they found out our connections, I do not know.”You unlocked your eyes from his, burying your head in his chest. He didn’t need to say anymore to imply what Talon wanted.“Thank you.”A small pat on your back and you were released from the hug.

“This does however put us in a bit of a predicament, (Y/N).”Your brows furrow.“Your safehouse was comprimised. Yet, I can’t take you back the dropship.”You tilted your head. “Why not?”Genji sighed. “Overwatch does not yet know that Hanzo and I have a sister.”“Ah.” You brought your finger up to wipe away the last tear.“I am sure however, we can think of something.” Genji said, a smile in his voice.

***

“Y'all have a sister?!” McCree exclaimed.“Jesse, please. Don’t let the entire dropship hear.” Hanzo said. It was rare he used sarcasm, a trait he had picked up from his western friend.“Well… What’s she like?”“A Shimada.”The conversation was dropped.

***

You and Genji stepped up to the dropship ramp. You took a deep breath. Inside the dropship you were surrounded by unfamiliar faces. You saw Hanzo, and smiled meekly at him. It was as though his face hadn’t changed from the stern look when he blatantly said yoi can’t come back. He stepped forward, creating a space between you and the strangers.

“Everyone. This is our younger sister, (Y/N).” He paused. “She is here because it seems as though our information has been compromised. Talon agents know who she is and our relations, and attempted to find her. Hence, why she is now here under our protection.”

Murmers spread amongst the strangers, your face blushing with the attention.

A man in a hat and a cape came up to you.“The name’s McCree.” He nodded.You smiled slightly, and glanced at Hanzo. He raised his eyebrows and slightly nodded his head in approval. “Hi, er, (Y/N).” You said, introducing yourself.He tilted his head, a smile pulling at his lips.“So how come we haven’t heard of you before?”

Oh no. Here we go.

“I- well..”Hanzo could see you flush slightly and made his way over, a protective hand encasing yours.“Protection.” Hanzo stated, glancing at you. You agreed. To be fair, Hanzo wasn’t wrong.“And now that she is here, we will be able to protect you even more.” A gentle smile graced his lips as he full on looked at you.“Well, darlin’. You’re in capable hands if you’re bein’ protected by Overwatch.”

McCree’s accent made you blush, not to mention the thought of you being actually being safe. Now that you had a terrorist organsiation hunting you down, you needed your brothers more than ever. Luckily, they were here for you.Or so you hoped..

—

Anon, I hope this was good enough for you!