#he has done that before — going hand to hand in combat (he didn’t win of course it was the battle leading up to his werewolf reveal)

[arsene-fixates]

did i ever post these. has anyone seen these screenshots. oh my god.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Playing Video Games With Gen

Gen Narumi X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Arguing, reader’s temper flares and she destroys something, reader is a little stressed, sprinkle of angst, fluff at the end

Word Count: 894

(A/N:) This has been in my drafts for a good long while! But now it will finally see the light of day! I hope everyone is enjoying the Kaiju No. 8 anime so far! I am! Saturdays have become so exciting for me and I’ve been watching the episodes over and over. I just adore this story and I can’t wait to see more moments come to life! But until next time enjoy this little piece! Happy reading! ~Countess

Dating Gen Narumi had it’s ups and it’s downs. But the First Division leader was good at what he does. From killing kaiju to slaughtering online players in the gaming universe. While you enjoyed playing video games every now and again, life always seemed to take up majority of your time. That and the threats of kaiju constantly threatening the innocent civilians. So it was a rare moment when you got to sit down to play by yourself, let alone with the man known as the Force’s Strongest Combatant. 

You found yourself in one such rare moment. It was a rainy day and so far no kaiju threat had emerged. So Gen invited you into his office where he wanted to play games. Surrounded by his figurines and sitting in a comfortable chair before his large gaming setup, you were furiously smashing buttons while Gen sat at your side smirking obnoxiously. Gritting your teeth, trying to come back at the last second only to lose the round. Cursing viciously, you were just about to smash the controller when Gen’s larger hand encircled your wrist.

“These controllers are very expensive babe,” he smirked.

“You can afford a new one captain,” you snarled, temper still flaring. Still Gen refused to release your wrist. Guiding you to sit back down, he brought your hand close to his face, where he brushed tender kisses to the skin of your wrist. You started calming down until he bit down on your wrist playfully. With a hiss you ripped yourself away from his grip and sent his precious controller flying. It shattered against the wall with a satisfying crash.

Normally Gen would freak out, bursting out with a childish tantrum. But as he glared at you, emotions raging inside his eyes, you knew you royally screwed up. Quietly Gen walked over to the destroyed controller, scooping up the pieces and throwing them into the trash. Guilt eating at you, you knew that your temper got out of hand, so you walked to him to help him clean up the mess you made.

“I’m sorry Gen,” you apologized immediately. “I’ll buy you a new one. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He shook his head, “It’s okay. I’ll replace it. I shouldn’t have teased you so much.”

“No it’s not you. I lost my temper and all you were doing was playing with me like you usually do. I guess I just have so much stress on me right now. It’s no excuse but I’ll try better.”

“I’ll let you win some,” he offered.

“Ha! Don’t let me win you goof,” you laughed tossing the last plastic piece into the wastebasket. “It’s no fun that way!”

“Well that was my only extra controller,” he ran his fingers through his two toned hair. “Wanna go get a new one together? The walk may do you some good if you’ve been overwhelmed here lately.”

“It’s raining though,” you whined.

Gen chuckled, standing back up and offering you his hand. “It’s okay! You aren’t sweet enough to melt!” You stuck out your tongue but took his hand nonetheless. 

Walking down the streets of Japan hand in hand with Gen Narumi was something you probably would never get used to. With the stares and whispers encircling you both. It didn’t help that his phone would keep pinging in his pocket from people posting about the handsome captain whenever he made an appearance. Normally he would be scrolling through all said posts and ignore you, but on this occasion as he held your hand and the umbrella above your heads, he could do no such thing. You stepped into him tightly, enjoying the warmth of his body heat as the rain relentlessly beat against the umbrella.

Making it to Gen’s normal electronic haunt and purchase in tow, you both made it back to Gen’s office in record time. It helped that the rain only had picked up heavier as you both were out. Setting it up and handing it over. You couldn’t help but notice that he had purchased the controller in your favorite color. 

“This one will be yours whenever you want to play,” he kissed your cheek. “And maybe if it’s yours you’ll take better care of it.”

You laughed before kissing his cheek back, “Thank you Gen. You know how to treat a girl right.”

“Of course! Now ready to lose some more?”

“Who knows I may get lucky,” you grinned viciously a plan already cooking in your mind.

You wound up winning a couple of rounds, though you did have to resort to cheating. Gen couldn’t play when you knocked his chair over during a critical time in the round. And apparently he didn’t enjoy having feet anywhere around his head. So you took to sticking your toes against his cheek or blocking his vision, with said feet. Though you did pay dearly for cheating as Gen tickled you mercilessly, leaving you both breathless sprawled out on the floor. You couldn’t help but wish for more easy days like this. And though it had started out rough, this was what you needed. Just to be around the man you love and have fun. It was like the tension you had been dragging around for weeks melted away, just from the looks he gave you and you knew that Gen needed this as well.

[juuuulez]

📰 | part nine: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers, finally they kiss, enemies with benefits, based on s7 finale, secret relationship except they’re not in a relationship, Carl almost dies.

summary: Alexandria has regained their power, and Carl narrowly escapes death. Finally, your feelings catch up to each other. Season 7 finale.

-> masterlist <-

okay!!!! FINALLY i got this done! this will be our LAST sorta canon chapter, because we all know the tragedy of season 8……so now i’m diverging the story into my own canon ;)

also entering a new phase of the carl and reader relationship..definitely a more exciting one! don’t worry, it’s still slowburn, just a bit more heated!

You were trying your best to ignore Carl, the past couple of days. Maybe you were a tad embarrassed that he’d seen you during a vulnerable moment. There was a part of your brain that still hadn’t accepted it, and knew that being around Carl would only remind you, that you’d receive the brunt of his sympathy.

Sympathy was not what you wanted.

But as always, sooner or later, you wound up within those walls once more.

Tensions were high.

They had weapons, too many of them. This surely wasn’t it, right? The Saviours had been through worse. But these people were like cockroaches, their spirit didn’t die, they kept coming back up and rebelling. You were getting sick of it. Negan was, too.

Everything went sideways when Sasha’s zombified corpse fell out of the coffin. It all ramped up too quickly, and before you knew it, there was gunfire.

It was relatively easy to get under control, yet still, there was always that voice that wondered if this would do it, this is the fight that kills you. It never does, yet you consider it.

A few members of Alexandria are killed in the process. One you take with your metal bat, disarming the man initially, yet his persistence to live claws at your feet, dragging you down onto the concrete. He’d pulled a knife from his sheath, trying to stab you, leaving you to finally crack the bat down onto his skull.

You were a high ticket item, I guess. It’s a surprise nobody else was itching for this chance to end your life.

Eventually, it all dies down. You take a moment to wipe the blood off your hands, trying to catch your breath and regain your composure before stepping back into the chaos.

When you do, a frown fills your features. Not exactly at upset expression, just something pensive.

Carl and Rick, on their knees. You weren’t listening to Negan, likely able to guess what he’s saying. What he wants. God forbid you try to stop it.

In fact, you didn’t want to.

Carl grit his jaw to ignore that urge to get up, to fight, to try to escape. He glared across the grass, practically into your soul. It wasn’t an urge for help, just a pointed look. This is what your family does.

If this was it, if he died, he’d want you to see it. Maybe just to rub it in your face, that he’d died for a noble cause, whilst you’d eventually fall victim to the uprising of Alexandria. At least, that’s how Carl saw it happening.

When the countdown ends, he unconsciously tenses, eyes screwed shut to combat confronting whatever happens next.

Were you really going to do nothing?

And yet it doesn’t happen.

Shiva mauled a nearby Saviour, taking the attention off of him, and back onto the simmering rebellion. Carl recovers quickly from the shock of near death, forced to rejoin the fight, even if his mind is still reeling.

Maybe he thought you were softening up, after that night in the cabin. It had humanised you. This sort of reversed all that.

The gunfire become unruly, and it was clear who was winning. If this was any indication of the future, then the Saviours were at the end of the line, and Carl was more than happy for it.

He’d managed to escape into a narrow alleyway between two houses, hoping to sneak around and get behind the enemy group, take them by surprise.

However, he makes it a few paces down the alley, before crossing into the gravel path behind the buildings. His senses are sharpened, luckily, for within seconds a dense mass is swinging at his head.

Carl narrowly avoids the bat, ducking fast enough that it swings into the house, getting caught in the wooden boards. They splinter around the metal, concaving inwards, rendering it stuck.

“Fuck!” You swear, tugging with all your might to free it, knowing it’s your only weapon. The adrenaline still pumps through your veins, moreso focused on rearming yourself, less on Carl finally standing within your vicinity.

There’s no doubt he’s angry, hence why you need your weapon back, pulling furiously to try and break the wooden confines. It’s too late, because then Carl harshly shoves your shoulder, pushing you away from the trapped baseball bat.

“What the hell was that?” He sneers, finally letting the frustration and fear towards almost dying pour out. “He was going to kill me, and you just watched?”

You roll your eyes, that snarky attitude resurfacing, reverting to this version of yourself that doesn’t care. “He wasn’t, alright? You would’ve been fine.”

The assurance means nothing, for Carl still invades your space, his face practically inches from your own. “Bullshit!” He yells.

In response, you shove him away. It sends the boy stumbling back into the alley, and the second he’s regained his footing, he’s trying to push you against the wall.

It’s almost childish, the way you fight. Pushing and shoving like toddlers, yet with the strength of two teenagers, fueled by years of surviving and adapting and hormones.

You manage to sweep your foot out, tripping Carl up, letting him fall to the ground. Before he can try to get up, which he attempts immediately, you’re pinning him to the ground, planted firmly on his chest.

One hand lands on your neck, almost putting enough pressure to choke you. Carl’s other hand grips your waist, trying to push you off him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” He shouts, despite how close you are, “You want me dead, huh? After all that bullshit—“

“Shut up!” You yell, cutting him off, slamming your hand over his mouth. It tastes salty like sweat, and little bits of dirt are pressed into his face, but Carl can’t do much but let it happen.

With him finally silenced, you manage to take a few deep breaths, trying to organise your thoughts. You two glare at eachother, before you slowly remove your hand, lifting it away from him.

“You—“ Carl attempts again, only for your palm to reclaim his face. This time you pinch his cheeks with your pointer and thumb, causing a disgruntled expression to overtake his features, trying again to squirm from your grasp.

“Don’t talk.” You hiss, this time not letting go, just needing him to be quiet whilst you try and explain.

That, and it felt a little good to put him in his place. But you didn’t have time to savour the feeling, for Carl tightens his grip on your neck, forcing you to hurry with the explanation.

“Negan is not going to hurt you,” You try to tell him, speaking slowly and clearly, wanting to get it into his thick skull. “Let alone kill you. Okay?”

The suggestion causes Carl to try and protest, likely having ten billion reasons why he thinks otherwise, but you’re quick to silence him with a firm grip on his jaw. He shoots you an irritated look, yet remains quiet.

“As long as you’re alive, we can control Rick,” You explain, “The second something happens to you, he stops caring. Right now, you’re the only leverage we have. So, Negan bluffs. I mean, c’mon, you really thought he was gonna do that?”

Carl gives no response, maybe because he’s thinking about it. But you give him the benefit of the doubt, loosening your hold on his jaw, yet leaving your hand there. The pair of you are still panting, and Carl struggles to breathe slightly under your weight on his chest. As such, you shift down a little, but still remain atop him.

For some reason, you keep talking. Maybe there is an inkling of regret, a bubbling guilt over just standing and observing whilst Carl confronted potentially imminent death.

“But that doesn’t mean you get ‘t do stupid stuff, yeah? Especially not now. Things are getting messy, and now you’ve all got guns, so.. I dunno, don’t get cocky, because we can still punish you for it.” You ramble on.

Carl stays silent, letting you run your mouth. He’s not really listening. This is the closest you’ve been before, and you’re practically sitting in his lap, knees planted either side of his thighs whilst you hover.

The hand on your waist remains, settled there, feeling the warmth of your body. That white tank you always wear is thin, dirtied from todays fight, and rides up just enough to reveal a slither of your stomach. God, this is so irrational. But right now, you’re looking less like the enemy, and more like a pretty girl.

Somehow, you’re still talking, rambling about how these next few days will be dangerous, and how Carl should watch out for any surprise Saviour visits. How Negan will be trying to catch everybody off guard.

You’re not even looking at him, staring down at the dirt next to you whilst your mind runs. Carl let’s his hand shift downwards from your waist, just a bit, wondering how low it could get before you caught on. Those tight black jeans, clinging to your form, have never been so tempting.

“That, and I don’t think..” You trail off when you notice Carl’s silence, finally becoming a little more aware of your position. He’s barely even paying attention. “Carl.”

His eyes flicker back up to you, from wherever they’d been looking at. You realise that he’s essentially eye-level with your chest, causing you to tug at his jaw, pulling his face up to force his attention back on you.

Neither of you speak, as Carl shifts a little, pushing himself into a sitting position, approaching in on your personal space. You stay put, on edge, trying to decipher what he’s up to. The hand on your waist travels lower, to your hip, whilst Carl’s grip on your neck loosens so he’s simply holding you.

“Carl.” You whisper again, almost as a warning, quickly catching on to what’s happening here. There’s still gunfire outside the alley, people fighting. That, and this is definitely a bad idea.

This isn’t the face of somebody who wants you dead. Carl is looking at you with an certain want in his eyes, and it’s precious and innocent yet dirty at the same time. For a second, you actually just feel like a teenage girl. Smitten.

Shaking your head, you try to look away from his face, his lips, his eyes. “We’re not doing this.” You whisper, and yet, make no attempt to get off him.

He clocks this, more aware than yourself of how much you might actually want this, even if you say otherwise. But he doesn’t make a move, trying to coax you into a position of agreement, like he needs to hear you say it first. “C’mon, just a little bit.” Carl whispers back, and you can feel his breath on your face.

It’s ridiculous that you’ve let it get this far. You try to consider all the consequences, all the reasons this is stupid, but your brain feels all foggy and mushy. It takes the slightest movement and your lips are brushing together.

You pull back before it can even be called a kiss. Just the tiniest bit, brows furrowed, looking slightly worried. Carl doesn’t chase you down. He doesn’t move, allowing you to take the lead, as if trusting that you do want this. And you do.

That’s why you go back again.

This time, your lips actually meet, and it’s hesitant and awkward at first. But it doesn’t take long to find your footing. One hand still holds onto Carl’s jaw, tilting his head back slightly, giving you access to lick into his mouth. The other hand shifts into his hair, thumb brushing against the back of his neck, fingers gently twirling in the brown locks.

They’re soft. You’d thought so.

Carl leans backwards so he’s laying down, letting you properly sit on his lap. His arms are wrapped around you, hands planted firmly on your ass over those tight jeans, tugging you further down into his body.

You’ve never kissed someone like this before. Neither has he. The adrenaline in your veins pumps hard, urging you to claim his mouth as your own, to which Carl eagerly kisses back.

Eventually, you have to pull away for air, resting your forehead against Carl’s. Your lips are red and swollen from the kissing, coated in a sheen of spit, an expression mirrored on his features. Except that after a moment of breathing, Carl begins to grin, which makes your expression sour.

“Don’t.” You grunt, not wanting to hear whatever he has to say.

But Carl shakes his head, the movement small to not disturb your rest against him. “I just think you look pretty from this angle.”

You still roll your eyes, even if the compliment settles it’s way into your heart, making an unfamiliar warmth spread in your chest. The blush on your face must be evident, because Carl moves his hands upwards, settling over your waist and holding you close to him.

“I’ve gotta go. They’re still fighting.” You remind him, voice lowered to a hushed whisper due to the proximity of the situation. It’s weird, being this intimate and private with Carl. The person you hate more than anything.

His grip tightens on you a little more, holding firmly so that Carl can roll over, placing you down on the dirty path, leaning over your form. “Or I could take you hostage.” He suggests, a wicked grin on his face. So cute.

You don’t know if he’s being serious, but you don’t really care. That’s why you’re drawn to him. Because Carl is one of the few people who isn’t afraid to challenge you.

“That’s not happening,” You scoff, “You’re on thin ice, Grimes. Especially if you want this little stunt to repeat itself.”

The suggestion causes Carl to let up, rolling off you and allowing you some space. You sit once more, dusting some of the dirt off your white tank, pulling it back down to cover up your skin.

“So… you’d do it again?” He asks, watching as you stand, a hopeful expression on his face.

You move towards the building, where the bat is still stuck in splintered wood. It only takes one firm yank to pull it free, leaving a sizeable dent in somebody’s house.

So you’re not facing him when you answer, which is potentially a good thing, because you’re definitely blushing. “Maybe. Play your cards right.”

A sharp sound cuts through the commotion. That whistle you’ve grown to love, and Carl has grown to resent. To you, it means safety, someone to stand by. To him, it’s disaster.

Knowing you have to leave, that the Saviours are retreating, Carl backs off. He stands a few paces away from you, preparing for your sudden departure, mentally reminding himself of this unspoken divide between the pair of you.

Yet, you shoot him one more glance, an awkward little smile on your face. “Don’t get yourself killed.” You tell him, it likely being the most sincere string of words you’ve ever expressed to the boy.

He’ll take it.

He’ll take anything, at this point. The price of hatred was worth it, if this were the outcome.

So Carl let’s you leave, where you run back between the houses, deftly sneaking away to reunite with the Saviours before they can take their trucks and leave Alexandria. Sure, he probably should have backed up that hostage comment, but experiencing this again? That wasn’t something he could pass up.

Now was to make sure nobody found out.

[vansmaybeonthewall]

reputation // i did something bad

chapter summary: The one where your plan comes to life after a series of events that fueled the fire.

Eventual Jamie Tartt x Reader

the support you have shown for this is truly amazing. ily all, i hope you enjoy! i almost accidentally deleted it all before posting

word count: 4.3k

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The spotlight was on you, a familiar yet unwanted feeling. News headlines questioned your ability to hold a crowd that big and there was not one positive thing to combat them. Even the almighty Rupert and his sidekick Derek forgot how small you were compared to other artists. It was almost as if they wanted you to fail despite wanting to take a win from Rebecca Welton. It also was a surprise to see the size of the stage and the number of light fixtures fixed to it. Even dancers who seemed to be warming up? You made your way to the stage from the tunnel, crew milling about preparing the finishing touches. Derek spotted you in your confused state and jogged over to you. 

“Amazing isn’t it? Jasmine had the bright idea to have a full stage with room for choreography. She even got some designers to agree to make these long flowy dresses to match your “vibe”.”

“My vibe?”

“Yeah, you know, the way your songs sound and the meanings, all that. She’s gotten a choreographer already planning out your movements. She has a hairstylist and a makeup artist waiting for you already to practice the look they have picked out. Oh this is so exciting! Come on!”

“Wait, Derek!”

But he has already rushed off, jogging back across the field. There was no choice but to follow him which somehow led you to be sitting in a makeup chair with two strangers attacking your hair and face. It was awkward and the silence was excruciatingly painful. Both stylists had made it quite clear they weren’t amused or happy to be working with you. You were left alone in your makeshift wardrobe area looking at an unrecognizable figure in the mirror. Your hair didn’t suit your face and the makeup distorted what you knew to be yourself. The dress, the most beautiful shade of purple, wasn’t what you had planned for the event. In fact, none of this was what you had planned. You would have been content with a small stage and your guitar. It didn’t need to be this difficult. 

This wasn’t you. Not in this moment of time. While you reveled in the beauty of your songs and the meanings you so delicately handcrafted, this wasn’t how they were supposed to be showcased. Of course, the opportunity to perform in front of hundreds of people was a dream, but it was to good to be true. A small percentage, if any, would know the lyrics to your songs. It didn’t seem-

“Knock knock!”

Jasmine pokes her head through the doorway, a radiant smile on her face.

“Oh, you look absolutely gorgeous! Are you ready for it?”

“For what exactly?”

“To go over the setlist! I know they were still making changes, but they should be done by now. We need a rehearsal today and to schedule a few more before the match in a few days, which may have to be every day for a couple of hours at the rate we’re going.”

“The setlist is already being done? Don’t I get a say in it?”

Jasmine frowns slightly, her demeanor shifting.

“Derek thought it would be best to pick certain songs and leave out others. He thought you might pick some not fit for the purpose of the show.”

Right. The show wasn’t completely for you, it only involved you in some plan on getting sweet revenge on Rebecca Welton on Rupert’s behalf.

“He said that?”

“Well, yes and no. Think of it like this.”

She places her hands on your arms in an attempt to comfort you.

“You have someone looking out for you making sure you don’t make any more mistakes. It’s sweet. Now let’s get going. I’ll give you five more minutes to yourself.”

Jasmine leaves the room shutting the door behind her. Her words left you dumbfounded. First, you had no say in the songs you’d sing and second, she said Derek was there to help you make no more mistakes. You had no idea if she was being genuine or if she was deliberately trying to hurt you. You shook the thoughts from your head, heading out towards the field. 

As you walked across the field, you spotted instruments being set up on stage. It gave some sort of relief that you would play your own, but that was soon taken away. Derek was giving people papers and orders of where to go. The instrumentals of your songs soon flooded your ears. Carefully, you climbed up onto the stage and approached Derek. He spun around at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“You made it! You look exactly how we pictured you should, this is perfect! You have to meet the band and-”

“The band?”

Derek gives you a strange look.

“The band that’s going to be playing for you. Did you think you would be playing yourself?”

“I always have, you know that.”

“Yes, but we wanted to make you seem like a bigger artist than you are. We need to let Richmond know we are better than them in every possible way. Rupert is going to come by for a rehearsal and speaking of which, you need the setlist.”

You started to ask a question be he quickly shot you down.

“(Y/N), you don’t really have a say in the songs. What you have in mind doesn’t fit.”

“How do you know what I have in mind, Derek?”

“Come on, we’ve been dating for two years, you think I don’t know you?”

At the call of his name, Derek excused himself from the conversation leaving you in the center of the stage. It was like a stab to the heart. None of this performance was about you, it was everybody else’s. And yet you still followed whatever you were told to do. 

~

Two days before the match

“August slipped away into a moment of time

‘Cause it was never mine”

“Cut! Cut, cut, cut!”

Mid-song you were cut off, yet again. It was a cycle repeated every few minutes.

“The choreography isn’t right, weren’t you told to do what you normally do when you perform this song?”

“And I have told you time after time, I play my guitar every time I sing this song. But you’re not listening to me.”

“Darling, I was hired as creative director of this halftime performance, you do as I say or I blacklist you from future performances. Which doesn’t seem possible at the moment with your attitude.”

You seeth in silent anger. You push through the entire rehearsal, eager to leave the stadium. And when you finally get back to wardrobe to change back, the day somehow gets worse. You exit the building and make your way to the parking lot to wait for Derek. The constant dinging of your phone in your bag breaks you out of your trance. You dig through your bag and find Twitter to be the culprit of the noise. And boy was it a shock.

Multiple news accounts tweeted articles and comments about your appearance at the West Ham v. Richmond game. But what caught your eye was the A.F.C. Richmond account tagging your username. You click on the tweet to find a clip of a recent press conference with the tweet reading “Real men support their besties”.

You press play and find yourself listening to Colin answering questions. 

“And what do you think of (Y/N) (L/N)’s upcoming performance as a halftime entertainer?”

“(Y/N) is a talented artist. She has come so far and I’m happy to see her fulfilling one of her goals.”

“Even if a larger audience doesn’t approve of her choices in her music career?”

You see Colin straighten up.

“For as long as I’ve had the pleasure of knowing (Y/N), she does everything for a reason. Even if it may seem “outlandish” or “stupid” to critics like you, she puts her whole heart into it for the one person who will love and cherish her work to the very end. I look forward to our match against West Ham, not just for a win, but to see my best friend do the one thing she has dreamed of doing since she was a kid.”

A bittersweet smile made its way to your face. You and Colin hadn’t spoken for a while, with his matches and you following Derek as he requested. Maybe you should send him a message? Colin, however, beats you to it. You don’t have a chance to read it as a hand snatches your phone out of your grip. Derek comes into view and holds the phone up to his ear.

“Hello hello, is (Y/N) here? She didn’t hear me calling her name.”

“Jesus Derek, what the fuck.”

“You weren’t listening, I had to do something.”

He pulls the phone from his ear and moves to hand it back to you, but he catches a glimpse of the screen.

“Why is he texting you? I thought I said you couldn’t.”

You try to take your phone back from his grasp but Derek holds it higher in the air.

“He’s my best friend, I can’t just ignore him.”

“And I’m your boyfriend, I think I know what’s best for you.”

“Derek, please-”

He grabs your wrist tightly and sharply pulls it back down. You visibly wince at the sudden pain.

“I’m your boyfriend, you don’t need anyone else protecting you or saying thighs to defend you, I do that. That’s my job, alright?”

You don’t answer. At your silence, Derek jerks your arm.

“Alright?

You quickly nod. Derek lets go of your arm. Seeing tears about to fall from your eyes, he hugs you tightly. He places your phone into your back pocket before letting go of you. He kisses your cheek.

“I only do what’s best for you, you know that. Now I have to go meet with Rupert and Jasmine to discuss final additions to the show. And maybe when I get home, we can celebrate”

Derek looks at you with a smirk on his face before walking away, leaving you frozen by yourself without a ride home. You carefully rub your wrist, already feeling the ugly marks that would soon stain your skin. In fear of speaking to anyone and of meeting Derek at home, you start the long trek back, taking the long way home.

~

One day before the match

You had been silent for the last rehearsal. To get through the day faster, you chose not to voice any differences or concerns you had about your performance. You didn’t even have the courage to respond to Colin’s text much less open it. You were heading down the long hallway from your wardrobe room when you caught giggles and whispers of a heated conversation. But what really caught your attention was the mention of your name. You stop at the corner and lean against the wall. You take a peak to find Derek pinning Jasmine against the wall, face pressed into her neck. Her giggles turn into soft moans as Derek’s hands slide down her body. You place your back against the wall and slide down, hitting the floor with a small thump. 

You knew they were sneaking around. You saw the little glances and the comments they made towards the other. Even the time they kissed as an elevator closed, hiding the affair within. But never would you have imagined them being this bold. It was an ugly feeling, a nausous bugs crawling on your skin type of feeling. How could you have let this go on for so long? How could you have been with him for so long? How could you tolerate it? It was then in that moment that you made the decision to make this show about you. Not revenge on Ms. Welton, not to make West Ham look good, and definitely not to make Derek look good. It was going to end, all of it. 

You stood up from your spot and marched back to your dressing room. You snatched your phone from the vanity and found Colin’s contact. The message you never read glared at you.

Don’t let anything they say get to you, they don’t know you. You know you. Don’t let anyone make you forget that.

You press the call button. The call is picked up after the first ring. 

“Do you want to help me do something stupid?”

~

Day of the match

You looked at yourself in the mirror. The purple dress hid any indication of another outfit underneath. The bold choice of a red lip and your cat-eye eyeliner made you feel like…yourself. It was what you felt in the moment and having the decision to do it was truly an amazing thing. Getting to the stage was no big deal, you and Colin had created a foolproof plan of getting you there, which involved you being wheeled in a “cleaning cart” to underneath the stage where you would rise up as planned. 

There was a knock on the door.

“Hey babes, they’re ready for you if you are.”

You turn to the small TV in the corner of the room playing the match. There was only a few minutes until halftime. You open the door to see Keeley Jones.

“Let’s hope they’re ready for it.”

Being underneath the stage was surreal. Even if it was meant to be put up and torn apart within a short period of time, it was so elaborate. Workers milled about and the surprisingly loud chanting of your name filled the space. You quickly took off the dress revealing your outfit underneath. Pulling on the knee length boots, you grabbed a plain black microphone out of a box. Some of the dancers looked at you in confusion and anger, still dressed in flowy dresses. Those that agreed to your change in plans were dressed in black with microphones in hand. You took your place in the center of the lowered stage piece. The lights dimmed.

“And now, for your entertainment, the artist behind the delicate Folklore and Evermore, (Y/N) (L/N)!”

At the mention of your name, a glitch sound was heard. All fell silent before-

“Baby let the games begin”

The band takes off playing your song as you rise up, head lowered. As you are lifted onto the stage, the lights go red.

“Are you ready for it?”

Lights flash on you. Your black bodysuit sparkles in the spotlight. The crowd goes wild for you despite knowing none of the lyrics or meaning of all this. Your dancers and back up singers join you on stage, bringing the choreography you learned in secret to life. And when the moment came for the high note, you basked in the audience’s shouting of the lyrics as they learned the longer the song went on. The song came to an end, but this was only the beginning. At center stage, you unzipped the hoodie piece of your suit before continuing the set. Your look dramatically into the crowd, hoping your lyrics and fake laugh reached Derek’s pathetic little heart. 

“If a man talks shit, then I owe him nothing”

You hear cheers and screams coming from the girls and women in the crowd. You smirk, making sure this performance was as powerful for them as much as it was for you. The moment you get lifted into the air by your dancers felt like what it meant to be a phoenix rising from the ashes. If it was at all possible, the crowd seemed to be even louder as you finished, smiling and laughing at their reaction. The lights went out, allowing you to see the benches both teams sat at. You could see Derek arguing with Rupert, and Jasmine trying to mediate the two. It was far from over. The sounds of your next song started playing, and this one? The audience knew.

“Cause baby we got bad blood”

The singing grew louder as the stadium filled with screeches and yelling. The sound of a banjo mixing with pop music sent them into an absolute frenzy. You were bringing back your old songs, songs that haven’t been heard in years. 

“Should’ve said no”

You fell off the stage, your dancers catching you.

“Should’ve gone home”

You start running to the Richmond bench where you meet Colin with the handshake you made up when you were kids. As you start singing again, you start dancing wildly together. Cameramen follow your movements to display on the screens. While the coaches and other players seemed confused at the start, they hop in on the fun. You stay for a moment before walking towards the West Ham bench. Colin runs off grabbing a box.

“Shouldn’t be asking myself why”

You close in on Derek, pushing yourself into his face as he tries to back up. 

“You should’ve said no, baby and you might still have me”

You lean back dropping the microphone onto the floor near his feet. Colin appears next to you with a microphone sparkling with red glitter. You make your way back to the stage, but never back on it. You finish your performance on the grass. And as soon as it ends, Colin comes running, picking you up and spinning around in circles. The crowd chants your name. Colin sets you down. You bring the mic back to your face. 

“It has been an absolute pleasure to perform for you today London Stadium, but I do have some unfortunate news for you.”

You paused. All eyes were on you. Derek, although hiding from embarrassment, was staring at you with worry. Not for you, but for himself.

“I resign from my position on the West Ham United team as an entertainer and as an assistant. I will no longer be affiliated or used as a figure to represent this club, but rather another.”

Colin tilts his head in confusion. That last part wasn’t part of the plan. You look at Derek and Rupert as you speak your last sentence. 

“From now on, I will be working closely with A.F.C Richmond through their season not only to support their endeavours, but to finish my upcoming album reputation!”

With that, you turn and run towards the tunnel, waving at fans until you’re hidden away. You continue running until you find the locker room Richmond occupied for the match. You shut the door and lean against it for a second. You place the mic down on a bench before running your hands through your hair in disbelief. Being alone was shortlived as Colin burst through the door. He hugs you tightly, but keeps a hold of you when he pulls away. 

“When you said stupid, I didn’t think you meant this stupid.”

“Me neither, it just came out.”

The two of you embrace each other once again. An idea comes to mind. You let go of Colin.

“You have an extra jersey in your bag right?”

“Always.”

“Want to make it even worse?” 

The rest of the team along with the coaches file into the locker room. At the sight of Colin and you, they quiet down. Coach Lasso, the bright soul, comes forward. 

“Well I must say, that was a mighty brave thing you did out there Ms. (L/N). Wonderful performance too, you’ve come a long way from country.”

You were in shock. 

“You knew me from when I did country?”

“Of course I do! Everybody should, I was happy to hear that banjo and slight country twang in your voice. Reminded me of home”

You smiled sweetly at him. You were about to respond, but the sound of heels interrupted. Everybody turned their heads to the locker room entrance to find Keeley and Rebecca Welton. 

“Let’s wrap it up boys, we’ll do a talk and walk while we wait.”

Colin squeezes your shoulder before following his team. When they all vacated the room, Keeley came bounding to you. 

“That was fantastic babe! Absolutely spectacular.”

“It couldn’t have been done without you, Ms. Jones.”

She responded to your tease with a light punch to your arm. 

“(Y/N), this is Rebecca, Rebecca (Y/N).”

It was then you realized what you said on the field. You bring your hands up to cover your mouth.

“Ms.Welton! I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to blab, I just needed-”

Rebecca holds up a hand.

“There’s no need to apologize, I understand.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do, half the things I’ve done were done to try and hurt someone else. In fact, I must say I’m proud you had to courage to do that in front of so many people. Which brings me to this.”

You look between her and Keeley, who was trying to hide the biggest smile on her face. 

“If you wish to make what you said out there real, we’d be happy to have you.”

Keeley starts bouncing on her feet. Your mouth opens in shock.

“You’d want me?”

“You have quite the talent, and I’d hate to see you lose it because of…certain people.”

“Ms. Welton-”

“Rebecca.”

“Thank you Rebecca, I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t. Save it for when you finish writing.”

Rebecca smiles at you before extending her hand out to you. However, you take the opportunity to hug her, taking her by surprise. She returns the gesture. Keeley claps her hands together.

“Now why don’t we watch our boys beat the absolute shit out of your exes.”

You return to the field with Colin’s backup jersey over your bodysuit. Rebecca and Keeley headed to their seats, but you took the opportunity to cheer for your best friend in a place Derek would hear. As fans spotted you walking toward the Richmond bench, they cheered. 

“I spy with my little eye, a country gal making her way to the rodeo.”

You smile at Coach Lasso’s commentary. To appease him, you speak with a slight country twang.

“It ain’t a rodeo without a cowboy Coach Lasso.”

“Please, call me Ted.”

You shake hands as well as the other coaches before turning to the field where the play has resumed. You see Colin attempting to run from his attackers before he is tripped. Whistles blow, and some boos can be heard from the Richmond fans. Colin gets up slowly. You see the trio of coaches make the decision to pull him out. As Colin sits down on the bench. You crouch as Colin rubs his ankle.

“What happened?”

“Got me on purpose and made it look like a wee little accident.”

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s not your fault (Y/N).”

“But if I hadn’t done-”

“If you hadn’t done what you did, you wouldn’t be here wearing my jersey with knee-high boots.”

You smile at each other. 

“Come on, let’s watch them avenge me.”

The game could have gone better as it ended with a tie. But boy did it feel good to cheer and yell with Colin. Despite his slightly injured ankle, Colin picked you up and carried you to the huddle to celebrate their draw. They file into the locker room and gather their belongings. As you all file out of the locker room, you just remember that your stuff sits in the home-side part of the stadium.

“Shit.”

“What’s happened?”

You look at Colin with a troubled look on your face.

“My stuff. It’s in the dressing room My phone, my bag, my clothes.”

You won’t have to worry about any of that anymore as Derek storms down the hall with your bag in hand. He shouts your name and throws your belongings at you. The bag slides across the floor. You take a step back as he gets closer.

“I always knew you were stupid, but the shit you pulled today? You put the icing on the fuckin cake.”

Derek stands in front of you, breathing heavily. Another pair of footsteps comes quickly, Jasmine’s figure appearing. 

“Derek!”

“Maybe you should listen to her, Derek. She always has such great things to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I know about your sneaking around and the marks on your goddamn necks! Did you really think I wouldn’t know? I thought you would have some sort of decency to try and hide it, but you made it known to everybody but me! You’re mad I embarrassed you in front of people who “love” and “support” you? Good! Maybe people will see who you really are. A liar, a cheat, and a terrible coach.”

Derek raised his hand, but before it made contact with your face, a hand caught him by the wrist. You turned to see not Colin? A hand pulled you backward as the person stepped in front of you. A jersey with the number nine blocked Derek from your view.

“Wouldn’t want to cause a fuss would you mate? Not with the cameras.”

You hear Colin whispering in your ear as he pulls you to walk with him. You stare at the player wearing the number nine and Derek in a standoff. You want to see how the moment plays out but the next thing you know, you’re sitting on a bus with the rest of the Richmond team. All you can do is stare into blank space as before a hand invades your vision. You see number nine with your bag in your hand.

“I think this belongs to you, darling.”

You take the bag from his grasp, thanking him. He smiles at you before walking towards the front of the bus for a seat. You could finally relax. The bus takes off back to Nelson Road, the drive calming you down. A constant buzzing from your bag pulled you from your trance. Your phone. You dig through your bag to find Twitter once again popping off. Except this time, it was photos of you being carried by Colin with the team. There were pictures and clips of you performing. Fans tweeted how much they loved you while others would make a great episode of Thirst Tweets. You shut the phone off and leaned your head back on the seat.

Maybe some would think you did something bad, but god did it feel so good.

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

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[arialerendeair]

A Knight’s Favor

Okay hear me out.

Renaissance Fair - Hob drags Dream along for the fun of it all, mostly for an excuse to wear some of his oldest clothing, and his replica claymore (with dulled edges), attracting attention from everyone as he and Dream move together. 

They watch performances by the dozen, and take in the tournament matches, when, after it’s all over, the master of ceremonies steps forward and says that he’s going to need everyone’s help to coax someone to do an exhibition match.

Hob’s eyes are widening and he’s cursing as Evan looks up at him, smirking wide and he’s nearly scrambling out of his seat when Evan gets the crowd shouting his name in a chant, demanding he come down and put on an exhibition. 

Dream, of course, is watching all of this in amusement, and Hob’s just, embarrassed (in a proud way) and sighing.  He explains that it’d disappoint people if he didn’t, so he steals a quick kiss (which gets all of the AWWWs from the audience) and heads down to the arena.  He and Evan are kitted up, and have their weapons of choice (longsword vs. claymore was always an interesting one, since neither of them bother with shields).  

Hob is just settling into position, when a ROAR goes up from the crowd and he sees Evan laughing and gesturing behind him.  His breath catches at the sight of Dream standing there, holding out a ruby, a clear replica of HIS ruby, on a shimmering golden chain, a faint smile on his lips.  He’s approaching before he realizes it. 

“I believe it is custom to bestow a favor on the knight one wishes to win,” Dream says, his voice soft as he bends down and drapes the chain over Hob’s head, settling it against his chest before tucking it into his leather jerkin.  “Do attempt to win for me, valiant sir knight.” 

Hob’s flushed (and it has nothing to do with the light armor he’s wearing), and staring at Dream, who has the smuggest smirk on his face that he’s going to kiss off as soon as he’s done winning the battle.  But he nods, because of course he will win this fight for Dream and he turns back to Evan. 

Evan is smirking and Hob resolves to wipe that smirk off his face, and settles into a stance he hasn’t used in far too long.  He doesn’t hold back, not for a second.  He’s not going for a killing blow, only disarmament, but he can see the surprise on Evan’s face as he twists and wields the claymore in a way that only masters of it can. 

The fight is quick, brutal, and the crowd is roaring their approval. 

Hob can feel the heat of the ruby against his chest as Evan tries to push him back, forcing him into tighter combat.  A quick twist of his hips, faking dropping to one knee and Hob was able to toss Evan over his shoulder, sword and all, before spinning to point the claymore at his throat, grinning. 

Evan will laugh of course, and as the crowd cheers, he hugs Hob and thanks him for the match, and Hob turns to Dream who is...

His eyes are almost as hot as the ruby burning against his chest, the ruby that stands out against the white linen shirt he’s wearing under his armor, and Hob is grinning, triumphant and victorious as he strides towards Dream and reaches out for his hand, bowing low over it in a courtly bow before yanking his Dream into a kiss.  There’s another roar around them, but Hob forgets all of them as Dream kisses him hard enough to have him forgetting his name, let alone any silly old tournament. 

[dweebsqueeze]

Human Vibrator (Denki Kaminari x Fem!Reader)

18+ Smut, 4.7k Words Minors DNI

Denki Kaminari x Fem! Reader

Summary: You've reached new levels of stress in UA University's hero course. Everything seems to be going wrong and you're extremely sexually frustrated on top of it all. You plan on emerging out of your rut after defeating Denki Kaminari in training, but he's stronger than you remember. When he enters your dorm room to apologize, the tables turn in your favor. (Both of you are adults)

Warnings: Sub Kaminari x Dom Reader (then the dynamics get fuzzy), Caught masterbating, face sitting, riding, shock play, degradation, choking, spitting kink, overstim

Lately- you felt the most mentally, emotionally, and sexually frustrated you ever have been. With the constant villainous threats looming over UA University, more so the entire country with after All Might’s exposing confession, everyone was on edge. Training has been hell and the pressure has affected your performance. You haven’t won a one-on-one combat practice session in months. You can’t concentrate in class either. Your grades have hit rock bottom because every lecture just sounds like white noise to fuel intrusive thoughts. The exhaustion from each day has been building up, crushing your spirit further and further. You’re angry. You’re usually known for your ambitious, fighting spirit- which has shifted into a detriment rather than a benefit. The rest of class A has caught onto your recent change in mood. Nobody’s been brave enough to approach you about it, the ones who are worried just hope that you’ll find a way to sort your emotions out yourself.

On top of all this, you’ve always had an impressive sex drive. You haven’t had the time to satisfy it amidst your increasing responsibilities. Half of every recent materbastion session didn’t even end in an orgasm. You figured your stress was getting in the way. This frustrated you even more, your vibrator couldn’t possibly replace a cock. You desperately needed sex. Rough, unhinged, feral sex. 

Today was the last straw. The academic day was a blur. You couldn’t focus on any of your subjects, your mind was filled with thoughts of your sexual frustration and anxieties about upcoming combat training. It was going to be one-on-one battle sessions again. Everytime, you started to assume you’d lose which only made your attempts weaker. 

The class drawed lots to decide on fighting pairs. To your surprise, you got paired up with Kaminari. You’ve beaten him before, although it was way before your rough patch when you were at the top of your game. A new fire burned inside you. You were motivated to win, knowing you’d done it before. Your quirk was a tough match against Kaminari’s electricity. You were tired of getting your ass handed to you time and time again these past few months. You were determined- today was the day you were going to force yourself out of this terrible rut. 

You were going to beat Kaminari.

It was your turn to fight, you walked up to the moderately sized arena. Kaminari looked calm and confident- too confident. The two of you faced each other several feet away until you heard the buzzer to begin. You mustered all the strength you could to strike hard and fast. Kaminari dodged the first few blows, it looked like he was holding himself back from using his quirk. This only frustrated you further. You powered up to throw the biggest hit yet, but you took too long- Kaminari got to you first. Apparently, Kaminari had greatly improved his quirk since the last time you fought him. He was able to channel more electricity without putting himself out of commission afterwards. You could feel the sparks fly and course through your body. It was paralyzing, it wasn’t the worst pain you’ve felt before but it was enough to be memorable. Your body shook for a few seconds that felt like hours until you dropped. 

You laid there, numb, for an embarrassing amount of time until Kaminari ran up to you. 

“Hey, y/n- Sorry if I went too rough with my quirk.” He said with a pitiful look on his face. 

As soon as your brain returned to its normal, unelectrified, state- you could feel tears of frustration build up. You weakly lifted yourself up and kept your head down.

“Here let me help you,” Kaminari grabbed your arm gently to help you up.

You smacked his hand away, “Get off me!” You shouted, tears now streaming down your face.

“Woah, y/n. I’m sorry-” Kaminari’s face twisted in concern, but you interrupted before he could continue.

“Just shut up.” You stood up by yourself too quickly. You could feel yourself get lightheaded, apparently you were still experiencing the electricity’s effects. You temporarily lost your footing, but Kaminari grabbed you by the waist before you could fall.

“We really need to get you to Recovery Girl.” Kaminari held onto you, but you couldn't push him away this time. Your vision went blurry and your eyelids begged to be shut. Whatever Kaminari and your classmates said around you became quiet background noise. 

Then, everything went black.

Eventually, you woke up and found yourself in one of Recovery Girl’s beds. You looked around and were met with the very familiar features of her office. You threw your head back on the pillow in defeat.

“I’m glad you're awake, y/n. You were out for a few hours. Your injuries weren't that bad so you should feel as good as new by now.” Recovery Girl said sweetly.

You sat up and she was right. You felt rested, like your body hadn’t been completely zapped hours before. Now, the only thing that fatigued you was the shame of losing yet again. 

“Thanks, am I free to go?” You said with a sigh.

“Not yet-” Recovery Girl reached in her pocket and handed you a few Butterscotch candies. “Do be careful, dear.”

You thanked her again and walked to your dorm with slumped shoulders. Everyone had already finished training and returned home. On your walk back, you kept replaying the fight in your head. Since when did Kaminari get so strong? This was another loss to add to the recent pile. This loss made you even angrier because you believed in your odds of winning. Your fists clenched and so did your jaw, you were going to need to relieve this tension somehow as soon as you got to your room.

When you entered the dorm common room, all conversations came to a staggering halt when you appeared. You could hear some of your classmates say your name, they were probably about to check in on you. You kept your head down and just hastily walked through. You were in no mood to engage anyone. You felt like everyone pitied you. Everything made you pissed off these days, your classmates included. 

After slamming your room’s door, you changed and threw your body on the bed. You had to get rid of these negative feelings. You had so much pent up frustration you had to release it somehow.

You opened the drawer of your nightstand to retrieve the source of happy hormones that could temporarily relieve you of this rut. You had a rabbit-style vibrator, one that had a dildo with an attachment for your clit. You started by letting the tip vibrate over you, hoping you can get yourself turned on as a distraction. 

You rubbed it up and down and increased the speed. You couldn’t help but get flashes of your embarrassment when you closed your eyes and tried to relax. You upped the speed again, trying to focus on anything else. You could tell that this wasn’t going to work. You need more.

Eventually, you were so desperate for release, you turned the vibrator to its highest setting. You plunged it deep inside you with one stroke. It rumbled so hard you could feel your stomach jiggle slightly. It felt better to have your g-spot and clit stimulated, but it still wasn’t enough. 

You shut your eyes to focus, the vibrator was so loud you couldn’t hear what happened outside your door.

Kaminari felt bad about the whole situation. He couldn’t stop thinking about the teary look in your eyes as he figured there was something deeper going on outside the arena. When he saw you speed through the common room, he had to talk to you alone.

Kaminari knocked on the door and spoke softly, “Y/n?”

He waited for you to answer, but you didn’t. So, he knocked again, “Y/n, I’m really sorry about what happened. Can we talk?”

You still didn’t answer, now he was starting to get worried. 

He tried twisting the door handle, but he didn’t expect it to actually open. Apparently, you were so immersed in your own thoughts you didn’t bother to lock the door behind you. Kaminari peaked through the door, “Y/n?”

Out of all the things that he could have seen- he never imagined you to be on your bed, pushing a vibrator in and out of you, writhing and panting heavily. 

Kaminari’s jaw dropped, “Y/n! I’m so sorry!” He said a little too loudly, still in shock, and tried to close the door quickly.

You opened your eyes and realized what he saw. Before he could close the door completely, you stopped him.

“Wait.”

He paused, still afraid to look at you. He opened the door slightly, “I’m sorry for coming in- I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He stood, frozen.

You sat up in your bed and stared at him. You pulled the vibrator out and set it aside. All that covered you was an oversized t-shirt you changed into. He changed too, all he was wearing was a tank top and a pair of loose sweatpants. In your aroused and sexually frustrated state, you no longer saw him as a victorious enemy, he looked… kinda good. 

Kaminari’s figure displayed his improvements in combat skill. You never noticed since he mostly looked slim in clothes. He had broad shoulders attached to muscular arms. Through his well-fitting tank top, you could see the outlines of his pecs down to his surprisingly sculpted abs. His sweatpants were not doing a great job of concealing his growing bulge. Your eyes traveled back up to his face, he was completely flushed and still looked down. He looked… pretty. Your brain relinquished decision-making control and your pussy took its place.

“Get in here, lock the door behind you.” You demanded.

Kaminari gulped and slowly obeyed, still afraid to look you in the eyes.

“Good. Now take your clothes off.” You said coldly.

He finally looked up at you, but now your shirt covered your bare sex. “Y/n, what? Are you asking what I think you’re asking?” He said nervously with a tinge of excitement. 

“Kaminari, you’ve tried to ask every single girl out in our class out and now’s the time when you hesitate?” You replied in an annoyed tone.

“No, no- I just. I’m shocked, one minute it seems like you hate me the next you're asking me to take my clothes off. Can you blame me if I seem confused?” His eyebrows connected upwards, his face was full of apprehension. 

You sighed, “You’re right, you pissed me off. You showed up here to see if I was okay. Now you have to take responsibility.” you said darkly.

Your tone only aroused Kaminari more, there was no way he was going to pass up such an unexpected opportunity.

“Okay, okay. Hold on.” He said as he took off his shirt and tossed it to the ground. His sweatpants followed soon after. Then, he just stood there silently, unsure of what to do next. He was slightly afraid of you at this moment. He didn’t want to be assertive in any way in case it would upset you to the point of turning back. Stripped of everything except his boxer briefs, you could easily detect his raging hard-on. 

“Did all those volts fry your brain? Get over here.” He quickly followed your command and ignored the insult. He stood next to your bed, looking down with wide eyes, awaiting his next instruction. You moved over to the opposite side of the bed and continued, “Lay down.”

He kept eye contact with you as he approached the bed. Now, he wasn’t flashing you the determined, confident glance from before your fight. He was anxious and unsure of what to do without your directions. He kept your gaze like he was watching something dangerous, making sure you didn’t strike if he let his guard down. You could tell he was already wrapped around your finger and you haven’t even done anything yet. 

When his head finally laid on your pillow, you leaned over him. “Here’s what’s gonna happen Kaminari, I tell you what to do and you’re gonna obey like a good boy.”

His cock twitched at the use of “good boy.” He was so surprised by everything happening all he could do was hum in approval and nod his head. 

You put a hand to the side of his face softly. This was to disarm him from what you were going to propose next.

“I’m gonna sit on your face and you're gonna make me feel good, okay?” You ask with a pout, as if he was a delicate little thing you were about to destroy.

Kaminari’s eyes widened further as you both maintained eye contact, he was practically drooling already. “O-Okay.” 

You turned around and planted one of your legs on the other side of Kaminari. This exposed your naked cunt above him, so his hands instinctively rose to grab each ass cheek. You thought about slapping his hands away for not asking permission first, but you were so touch starved you let it slide. His hands moved to roam the entirety of your ass down to your thighs. You lowered your sex closer to his face until he took the initiative and finally gave you the sensations you’ve been craving for months.

His chin lifted and his mouth opened to pleasure you. His tongue trailed the front to the back of your swollen clit. He started to make little, soft circles along it as you let out breathy moans. He was a lot better at this than you thought. After a few rounds across your clit, you knew you wouldn’t have to guide him at all. He started slow, but now he dug his fingers into your thighs to bring you closer. He wanted to taste you even deeper. 

Your body relaxed as you laid on top of his torso. You ran your hands along his chiseled body. He let out small whimpers and hums as he savored you. You loved how he rubbed your ass and thighs as much as he loved your hands all over his body. You let your head rest beside his cock, it was twitching with need. Out of curiosity, you hooked a thumb under the side of his boxers and pulled them down to expose him. His cock was just as red as his face was earlier, you studied all the veins pumping his arousal. You naturally let your index finger gently touch the very tip. It immediately spilled precum, he must be pent up himself. Turns out he could hide it much better.

His hands dug into your ass tighter and he let out a slightly louder moan than the rest. You wanted to hear more, so you let your finger circle the head to tease him. 

He groaned and mumbled in between running his tongue over your sex, “Touch me more, please.”

You smacked the side of his hip, “Less talking, more licking.”

“Mm, yes ma’am.” Your cunt throbbed at the title. This was not your first time having sex, but that was your first time a man called you something authoritative. You liked it way too much. You figured he must have a thing for getting dominated, so you tested it out. 

“Mhm, you’re such a good boy- Following my orders, eating me out so well.” You said in between moans, egging him on. His cock leaked out even more.

You didn’t want to give him too much praise, so you demanded, “Start sucking it.” He immediately switched from circling to sucking, you were so close to finishing.

“Cum in my mouth… please, please.” He sounded so desperate under you. This only added to your fast approaching orgasm. 

“You’re gonna swallow all of it, you're gonna-” You can’t even focus on dirty talk, you cut yourself off with your most gutteral moan yet. You have to admit, Kaminari was talented at giving you intense full-body sensations. Earlier it was pain, now it’s overwhelming pleasure.

You kept cursing under your breath as he attacked your most sensitive spot. Finally, it was all too much. Your climax snapped as you rode his face. You couldn’t hold in your lewd moans. Your cunt fluttered and throbbed as you held onto his sides to try and stabilize your shaking body. Thankfully, Kaminari held your hips in place with his shockingly strong hands. You realized you had never squirted before, Kaminari made you squirt. 

What the fuck?

He frantically sucked and tried to collect as much of it as he could pooling at your entrance. You started easing out of the mind-blowing sensations as the gravity of this situation hit you. Kaminari was way too good at that. He can’t just embarrass you in front of everyone in a fight and make you completely come undone within the same day. This man had too much power over you today, you had to retaliate somehow.

You rose off him, turned around, and switched legs to straddle him. He was still out of breath since you kept him suffocated under your cunt. He was smiling with slick all over his mouth. He took his thumb and slid it across his bottom lip, only to seductively suck off what he collected. He looked at you in the eyes and groaned in satisfaction as he tasted you again. 

Fuck, that was hot.

You couldn’t let him see how much that affected you. Your hand slowly trailed up his abs, chest, then around his neck. You leaned to hover him and squeezed the sides of his neck. “You want me to fuck you, right?” You whispered over him. 

Kaminari quickly nodded and kept your gaze, anxious for what’s to come. 

“Where’s your manners? Say please.” You pouted like you pitied him and squeezed harder on his neck.

Kaminari whimpered, “Please… please fuck me.” 

You felt satisfied with how much power you had right now. But, you were still greedy for more.

Your hand left his neck to fully remove his boxers. Now, Kaminari laid entirely nude under you. You were still covered in your baggy shirt. He grabbed the bottom of it and tried to pull it off you until you slapped his hands away. He gasped at the sudden movement.

“You didn’t ask for permission first,” You said while shaking your head. “I don’t think you’re gonna get to see me naked.”

Kaminari sighed in frustration. His hands slipped under your shirt and felt up your ass even more. You decided he had enough of that earlier, so you grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. You gathered both of them in one hand, although it barely fit around. Your other hand found his cock and lined it up under your entrance. You thought about teasing him even more, maybe only grinding on him to make him submit with more degrading words. You were just as impatient as him, so you slid down his shaft in one push.

He was definitely bigger than your five inch vibrator, you were amazed by how full you felt. You didn’t move for a few moments, you wanted to get used to his size first. You just stared into his eyes, still holding him down. You could feel his cock excitedly twitch inside you. With Kaminari’s strength, he could easily break out of your one-handed hold on his wrists, but you could tell he enjoyed being “overpowered” as much as you enjoyed the power. 

When you were ready, you slowly moved your hips up. Kaminari rolled his head back on the pillow and let out a small moan. After all this time, he was finally getting much needed stimulation. You didn’t even need any lube, Kaminari did an impressive job eating you out and he was leaking all over his length. 

You quickly found a pleasing rhythm and grinded your clit over his stomach. Kaminari kept moaning and panting softly. He was sweaty from the heat of your body and the moment. He looked like he was glistening, his face and chest shined. He was more attractive than ever before. You mostly saw him as an annoying, borderline perv, but he was actually sexy. 

Was he always this hot?

These thoughts made you ride him a little faster. You could feel your pussy throb and clench around him. You kept pushing him down into the deepest part of you. The constant rubbing of your clit was driving you crazy.

Apparently, you moved in a specific way to cause Kaminari to involuntarily spark. It was a tiny shock that felt more like a vibration. The surprise made you pause.

“I’m sorry, sometimes when I-” Kaminari breathed heavily in between talking. He hadn’t even finished yet, but he sounded fucked out already. “I can’t control it.”

“No, I like it. Do it again.” You returned to your hurried pace. Kaminari closed his eyes, you could tell he wasn’t forcing anything. He just relaxed his body and succumbed to the sensations.

Soon, his body let out an almost constant stream of light electricity. It gently rumbled through his cock inside you, but you could feel it everywhere. Particularly on your grinding clit and your nipples from leaning on him. You giggled from how unreal this felt.

“Fuck, I’m gonna have to use you as my human vibrator from now on.” Kaminari’s red face turned darker at that statement. You would’ve assumed he was embarrassed if his cock didn’t throb harshly from it. He remained speechless, other than moans and whimpers as you bounced on his cock. 

The sadistic side of you had to degrade him further. “You’re a literal fuck toy. That’s all you're good for. Say it. Say ‘I’m a little fuck toy.’”

Kaminari’s eyes widened and quickly complied, “I’m a fuck toy.”

You wanted him to become a pleading mess below you, he didn’t say it with enough passion for your liking. You stopped moving. Kaminari let out a whine, “Ngh, why’d you stop?”

“That wasn’t convincing. Why should I fuck such a weak, useless toy? I want you to say it like you mean it- Then I’ll consider letting you cum.” You demanded.

Kaminari was finally getting desperate, “Okay, you’re right. I’m a little fuck toy. Please use me, please fuck me, please- I’ll do anything. Just keep moving, just-” He was panting heavily, his mind was completely consumed by lust. 

“That’s better, now open your mouth. I have a gift for you.” Kaminari innocently looked up at you and opened his mouth. “Stick your tongue out.” He followed the order.

You admired him like this, obedient and willing to take anything you’ll give him. You smiled at him and slowly dripped saliva out of your mouth and it landed on his tongue. Then you spit the rest of it out.

Kaminari closed his mouth and moved it around in his mouth. He was savoring the taste. “Now swallow.” You said softly.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he gulped. You let your free hand pat the side of his head, “Good boy.”

You moved your hips even faster than last time, you didn’t ease him into the rhythm. He let out the loudest moan yet at the sudden stimulation. His body kept shooting gentle shocks, you could feel your next orgasm approaching fast. You moaned along with him as you impaled yourself on his cock. The room was filled with your voices and lewd sounds from your bodies.

“Y/n, I’m close- Do I need to pull out?” Kaminari questioned, with a tinge of concern on his face.

You shook your head and grinned deviously. Kaminari sighed in relief and smiled too, knowingly that he didn’t have to hold back. The electricity from his body was growing stronger the closer he was to cumming. This only built up your own orgasm, you could tell the two of you were going to finish together.

You didn’t care how loud you were, you just let all your senses and instincts take over as you relentlessly rode Kaminari. Finally, you could feel waves of pleasure spread throughout your body, causing you to shake and cum all over his cock. Your walls squeezed around him and that was too much for him. You could feel warm wetness fill you as his cum shot out, still vibrating. Now, both of your hands pinned his arms down and kept riding him like it was last time you’d ever fuck anyone again.

“Y/n, we came- what are you doing?” Kaminari asked. You just ignored him, you wanted one last orgasm. 

“Fuck, y/n!” Tears started to fall across the side of his face. “S-too much, it’s- AH!” His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you overstimulated him. His body was shocking you even harder, but it felt too good to stop.

“You said you wanted me to use you. If your cock can’t take it, then I'll just sit on your face again and make you clean up your mess.” All Kaminari could do was just let out screams and moans as you tortured him with excess pleasure. 

You knew you broke Kaminari when he fell silent, his tears were steadily streaming down, his hips kept buckling into you, and his legs were shaking. Despite his earlier protest, his open mouth turned up into a dumb smile. He looked good like this, just empty-headed and happy.

You were overstimulating yourself, too. His body was continuously shocking you, making you feel new forms of ecstasy. It didn’t take very long for you to reach your third orgasm. This one was the most intense since you were already so sensitive. Your grip on his wrists weakened, then you fell on top of him. You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you let yourself seize on his cock. You could feel his cum drip out of you, painting his balls. The two of you laid there limp, enjoying the tail end of a mind-breaking fuck. You both just sighed in relief. You breathed in his natural scent, it was calming.

When the two of you returned to Earth, Kaminari’s hands slid up your shirt to caress your back. You almost purred at how relaxing it felt. He turned his head to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. You were the one to dominate and degrade him yet it felt like he’s the one giving you aftercare. You figured Kaminari had a sweet side you’ve never noticed before.

“We didn’t even kiss.” Kaminari mentioned. He was right, you weren’t in a romantic mood when you started all of this. You were in a feral, must fuck anything in sight mood, so you overlooked that. You lifted yourself to hover above him. 

You placed a peck on his lips. “There,” you said playfully.

One of Kaminari’s hands left your back to grab a handful of your hair. He pulled you into a longer kiss and pushed his tongue in softly. You accepted it and melted into the kiss. You could still taste yourself from when he devoured you. Endorphins coursed through both of your bodies. You could feel all of your previous stress and frustration leave you. This realization made you giggle into his mouth, breaking the kiss. 

Kaminari was also high off you, so he grinned like an idiot- but an adorable one. “There,” he teased you.

You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat for a few moments. “You can sleep here if you want. But this stays between us, Sparky.” You teased him back.

“Hey!” He whined, but he clearly wasn’t serious. “Okay, deal.” He agreed.

Your hand rubbed the pec you weren’t laying on. Kaminari’s face fell on the top of your head, he breathed you in while he ran his fingers through your hair. Your eyes started to drop, your exhaustion from the whole session weighed on you now. The softness of his skin, hearing his calm heart beating, and his scalp massage was enough to drift you off into a deep slumber. Kaminari followed soon after, the two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night- sound asleep.

[unsleepingtales]

Fhjy e2 reactions this episode is batshit and I love them but also I’m so sad

I’ll be so real gang I am stressed and have been in a downwards thought spiral so we’ll see how this goes yeah?

I love Adaine making her mage hand look like Riz’s ringed hand that’s so fun and lovely

Also the mage hand mini is so cool

Don’t patronize me, it’s bad 😔

Goddamn they’re good

Would you be interested in healing us?? Spare healing o cleric??

I love that they could heal the hangvan

The night yorb’s art is SO cute I need a plushie of it. I’m gonna just buy galaxy patterned fleece and make one.

It feels like a stretch???

It’s gonna bite!

I just thought if I acted excited it would be good

Naur 💀

Armor of ayda!!!

Go sit on a whisky bottle you punk bitch !

Duggan and Balthazar definitely explored each others bodies we’re all agreed on this right. In my mind they had something like the cowboy and the roman soldier from night at the museum had.

“This is hot” Emily I agreeeee

Perfect example of gambler’s fallacy but y’know what this did just reinforce it

Nothing I can do! Brennan. Brennan come on.

That’s a feat I took in LIFE

They THREW that that die TRAVELLED

“You know I’m always rooting for you”

Oh GOD

No more probability smashing ok murph?

Y’know what for being fully run over by a van? 22 points of damage is not bad.

Was last episode really only two rounds of combat

He is So defeated

I’m hurting 😡

ALSO the portal is so cool. This battle set is amazing.

The blood on the windshield I can’t

Oooooof

Can she resummon Baby?? Has he died before I can’t remember?

“From when you ran me over” as if Fabian is not Solely responsible for the choices he’s made. Riz didn’t intentionally run you over babe you fell out of the van.

This is. Not great!

What hell!

Oh nooooo

Cmon Murph please

SHIT

Oh god

Oh my god you are about to kill your healer

She had 23!!

Aaaaaaaaa oh god

:( I feel bad for the cute manta ray

Ally’s gonna sue you if they hit you

With my wizarding powers and my absolutely fucked van ! Gorgug thistlespring the man that you are

OH SHIIIIIIT

Yessss

Ok yeah that makes sense that was on the bingo

Ok so the van now holds the night yorb sealed in its roof and an angel in the engine. Fantastic.

That mural is beautiful

They’re so exhausted guys. School starts tomorrow.

(What an episode to air the week I go back to class and have Such A Bad Time Guys)

Eeeeeeeeeesh

Don’t menace me!

It means something to me emotionally. Gorgug Car Guy Thistlespring <3

You wanted to do a bit so now we’re doing a bit. Suffer for your bit.

Does the back door of the van mini open?? Bc that’s sick

Ooooh Ally has custom spell cards with the d20 logo on them. Those are neat

He’s gonna stab these guys but it’s not with any of the normal zeal 😔

Jesus

Just to try and feel something

JESUS

Why do you guys careee you’re bugssss

Brennan.

Zac oh god

‘Guys I think Fig’s getting hit with the ballista right now’

She doesn’t even cutting words she just takes it 😭😭

It’s that era, The Ball 😭😭

Oh my fucking god

The noises of defeat they’re all making

I want an ice cream. Like the old days.

Just like that ART oh I’m gonna reblog that art of them at basrar’s so bloody after a fight

I love them. I missed the bad kids guys.

I think we’ve gotta go to sleep.

Wooooo

Love an aso callback

Love wins 💅

We’re done doing this!!

ARE YOU KIDDING ME

What kind of BULLSHIT

God this is so unhinged

No bonus action healing or anything Kristen?

Brennaaaaaan

So tactical. So late. So dead.

The slowest and saddest three point turn

The least enthusiastic stab

You didn’t! Have! To do it! You could! Have had! Ice cream! I! Want! To go! Home!!!

Oooooof

OOOOOF

That Turncoat 😢

This is so fucking sad.

What the fuck man

I don’t know why anything happened. Why did any of that happened.

The shard of the day yorb

Fig why would you ask that.

Riz desperately trying to keep the group together is so heartbreaking

The fucking dry guys

BY MEPHITS FOR MEPHITS

Gotta stay awake in the dome motherfuckers

Oh my GOD

They’re gonna cry man

Dome art!

Brennan what are you about to do

Daisy Cubby!!!!

Fig. What.

I’M gonna cry.

Everyone’s gonna cry.

Is it fun man. Is it really.

Map!!!

It says fuck you zac ☺️ in beautiful writing!

Emily Axford the woman you are……….

What the fuck is happening right now.

Oh god oh no

This is so horrifying

Kristen. Kristen No.

I love the map!

Oh god.

Oh the Hallariel art is FANTASTIC

Are they going on their honeymoon. I have paused the episode to write this are hallariel and Gilear going on a honeymoon did they get married and not invite their kids because they were saving the world I’m gonna be so pissed

Oh the Gilear art is cursed

Okay they’re going on a cruise.

Gilear’s voice has dropped

Oh SHIT okay so I wasn’t that far off

This is just. So fucking sad. I know that it’s gonna get happier because it’s fantasy high but right now this is so fucking sad

They’re newlyweds??? So they did fucking get married?????

Leaving for MONTHS after your only child gets back from saving the world and you got married to one of his best friends’ dad without your child or your new spouse’s child there is so horrible oh my god. I am real life mad about this.

Ok interesting things happening with Gilear and luck. Is Gilear not gonna go see Fig at Mordred before he leaves for a year???

Guys there is still almost an hour left in this episode is it all gonna be this fucking sad

Oh my god he inherited the singing barrel pirates

Good for them being unionized

Sklondaaaaaa

She’s got her own boarddddd

I love her

God they’re powerful this season

SKLONDA ART FUCKS

Oh thank god a loving mother.

It was… ssso tactical

That summer before junior year growth spurt/style shift combo is so real

Oh shit. The single mother struggling to pay for college storyline is gonna fuck me up monumentally I think. Fuck.

Scholarships are gonna be really important 🥲 line taken from my real life

Setting up a board is to riz gukgak what a spreadsheet is to me. I am him he is me.

Please god I need the thistlesprings to not make me sad

They’re so cute!!!!

Zac looks fucking near tears

Oh god any time Brennan’s face gets a little more serious and the music kicks in my heart just sinks

GORGUG AND ZELDA BROKE UP? 😭😭

That does not make any sort of sense

Staying tight with your ex’s parents is also so real lmaooo

He had a toothbrush at her house??????

The bad girls are so important to me

Awwwwwwwww

They’re aaaall crying

ZAYN THE RETURN OF ZAYN MY BEST FRIEND ZAYN DARKSHADOW

And Ragh and Lydia!! Yay!!

SANDRA LYNN FAETH THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE. I WOULD BE SO GOOD TO YOU YOU DONT’ EVEN KNOW.

Brb printing out the new Sandra Lynn art to hang on my wall

They’re so tired guys

Squeem is alive? Ok

Jawbone man.

Oh god. Literally.

Sobbing this is literally the high school mentality

Guys. Guys.

It’s a real crapshoot for me finishing things. Yep.

Babe that is not a measurement of classes.

Yes that is a thing you can do. You can take time off for extreme circumstances.

LOVE the Aguefort art. Slay.

Also love that the way Brennan gets into the Aguefort voice is to do the peace hands

He’s going on vacation with ayda?????

Ayda looks great

Oh God No

How could this possibly go wrong?

What is the quangle and why is it going to cause so many problems

Oh nooooooo

That’s so fucking sad christ alive

Oh god

Emily.

PEOPLE LOVE SKITS ON ALBUMS

“Does nobody respect the fact that it takes time to save the world” feels like the thesis of the season

Trackerbees breakup about to be confirmed??

ZAYN ART ZAYN ART ZAYN ART

Look at my best friend in the whole wide world and his pet rat. He’s so fucking pretty.

Aelwyn moved out??

Augh.

Oh that’s lovely actually

Oh aelwyn looks GOOD.

And she’s got cats and is teaching middle school??? Good for herrrr

Awww that’s sweet

Oh right somehow I completely forgot that Fig did a fucked up devil deal

Oh god fig’s spilling on her shirt. Did she somehow swap fates with Gilear or something.

Sandra lynnnnnnnn

That is a good way to think about classes :)

What??

Nooooooooooooo

Sometimes you really do just have to give Nothing constructive in an improv scene sometimes it’s better

Trackerbees breakup confirmed. Tracker’s doing great.

Still interested in the retcon or whatever happened with Tracker originally being a cleric of Lida and then switching to Galicea

Cassandra I’m sorry you and Kristen are both struggling so much

Oh Whatttt no

If Cassandra dies and goes to the astral plane I will be so sad.

Holy SHIT guys.

[eternal-dragon-of-time]

This is an incredibly amount of Magius angst. Happy New Years to the most cringe fail enemies to lovers warrior ever.

At the end of the final confrontation of the Thirteen Lords of Chaos saga, the Hero and Drakath return to Lore with independent plans to defeat the Queen of Monsters. Magius has different desires in their head.

Hero!OC/Drakath, Enemies, Descriptions of Violence.

Maybe it’s hatred, maybe it’s desperation, maybe it’s love.

“Get back up.”

Drakath craned his neck to look at them from where he lay on the darkened ground, confusion cutting through his rage for a moment. Thin wisps steamed off of him from where the Queen of Monster’s magic restored him for the last time, fading quickly with the rest of her influence. She had escaped then, and left the two alone to fight it out in the Realm of Chaos. Reason demanded that the hero of Lore return to save their home, but all Magius could think of was this golden opportunity. 

The blood still stained their lips from where their lip was split open by a wayward strike, Magius relished in it, the reminder of the near miss keeping their heart pumping and mind sharp. Exhaustion tugged at them and their sword hand had gone numb sometime ago after one too many bone rattling clashes, their legs ached, their grip on their swords slackened. It had been many hours of clawing for victory and hedonist that they were; they enjoyed this too. “We aren’t done”

“So it's like that then,” Drakath spat, attempting to heave himself off the ground only to fall back after his arms trembled. Wounds knit back together or not, the fighting took its toll on him as well. “You’re so desperate for a victory you’d kill me just to pretend you’ve won?”

Was that it? The drive to continue the fight burned fiercely in Magius’ chest beyond all reason. Anger at the Queen for winning was somewhere in there, but the thought was ephemeral at the moment. All thinking was beyond them really, and the introspection dropped abruptly as Drakath finally managed to stand.

“It’s not about winning.” They said simply, “I haven’t beaten you. I think that's what matters to me.” Maybe it was the chaos that drove them. The last remnants of that mania searing their muscle under their skin and causing them to well and truly lose it. It’s okay then, because Drakath did that to them and so it was revenge. Tilting their head to the side they flashed the skin of their neck to him. They didn’t want to talk right now, Magius wanted to keep fighting.

“Time doesn’t work naturally here, you understand that, right? Every moment here could be months, years for Lore. You’re giving up the entirety of Lore to the Queen for nothing.” Disbelief tinged everything Drakath said, as if he couldn’t fathom that Magius would want to keep going, that he was getting another chance to put them into the ground. They understood what he was saying perfectly, and they ignored it. Even as he tested their resolve to stay, Magius could see he was making subtle movements to shift into a combat stance, and the allure was too much to bear. 

“If this battle takes forever, then everything will have been worth it.” Magius felt the words roll off of their tongue from a distance. Somewhere behind themself as they casually dropped all pretense of heroism. They watched from this out of body position as they took off their facemask, taking one slow gasp for air before launching themselves forward. Joy and fury matched in their heart with equal measure as everything came back together in preparation for the battle ahead. Hyperaware, Magius saw Drakath blink in surprise as they moved in for the attack, an ancient ache burning in their chest as he responded in kind.

Magius was happy.

Their cheeks hurt from smiling, even as their limbs ached and they lost track of time. The blade in their hands sang as they swung it with reckless abandon. Everything they desired was held in this moment. Their hate bloomed into hope, into contentment. The realm of chaos raged around them as they danced. Their partner driving them onto the defense as their battleground crumbled under the force of their battle. 

They were made for combat first and foremost. It was an unspoken truth that lived within them. Before they knew how to talk or comfort, they knew the feel of a blade in their hand. Magius knew that they weren’t going to make it to the end, they weren’t built for saving the world, for protecting the weak or any of the things that drove their friends. They were made for violence, and this was where they belonged. Clashing their sword with Drakath’s, they parried the blow and struck, once, twice, three times as thank you for the indulgence. I love you I love you I love you. Shoving him back across the barren earth that remained on their little plane of existence, Magius whooped as they flung themselves back into the bloodbath.

It was right. It was like his body was made for their blade. If the entire world was just this, just the two of them fighting for nothing at the end of the world, they would be happy. Drakath grabbed their sword hand and forced them to drop the blade, squeezing until it made a sickening crunch before flinging them onto the ground. Desperately rolling away before he could continue, they brought themselves back up to a standing position. Magius embraced this pain as much as they embraced inflicting it. In this moment it was an ecstasy beyond understanding. Finally, they were getting what they wanted.

They thought they were exhausted when they started this final confrontation, but after many hours, months, years, they were reaching depths beyond possibility. Sometime ago their right hand had gone numb to all feeling and Magius knew implicitly that some of their inner workings had gone lopsided, their insistence on fighting through the wounds Drakath inflicted damaging them further. And yet every time Magius felt that they were on the verge of collapse, some hidden wellspring surged within them. Some hidden quality of the realm of chaos allowing for them to battle forever.

Drakath was in similar shape. Without the constant assistance of the Queen of Monsters healing his wounds, Magius had finally left their mark. Panting hard, he paused his assault to lean on his blade, even the eye on his chest closing for a moment as the disengagement allowed for a moment of peace. Magius took the moment to check their wrist, wincing at how it ached when they attempted to flex their fingers. It wasn’t the first time they had been disarmed here, but it seemed like they weren’t going to be using their sword at all anymore. They would have to continue with just their fists. Before they could lunge forward again with their hands clenched, Drakath raised his arm to slow them and sighed, clearly exasperated.

“What are you doing?” He asked, and Magius felt a deep fear. “What are we doing? What is going to be achieved by doing this?” The longer they stood there the longer Magius’ body had to realize that it couldn’t keep going, they were going to lose their moment!

“I’m going to kill you.” Magius said, temper flaring up, the anger would help them keep on their feet.

“No. You’re not. Neither of us have come close to finishing this fight. If you wanted me dead you would be trying harder” Drakath’s frustration was evident. Magius blinked, straightening up in surprise. He wasn’t making any sense, so they shook their head in a futile attempt to think clearly through the muddy waters of their tired brain. They were fighting for pleasure, and nothing would please them more than victory… Right? They liked the idea of winning so badly, but would they really have been satisfied with killing him? “So what is this pointless fight for? Some sick death wish? Why not just let me-” he paused for an uncomfortable moment and then awkwardly gestured to them. Magius swayed for a moment before picking up on the implication.

“I don’t want to die!” Magius stopped themselves. Didn’t they? If they had dragged out the fight for so long without winning, weren’t they asking for it? They could see it, they guessed, them being okay with dying here if they had genuinely been bested. But that would end Magius' and Drakath’s moment together, and that hurt in a funny way. No, it wasn’t about the outcome at all. They bounced on their feet impatiently as they tried to think harder about what they were doing. “That’s not what this is about. It’s about you.”

Magius took a small amount of satisfaction from the way Drakath’s face twisted. It was his fault; it was always his fault. Something about him, something he did to them, had driven Magius beyond all reason and now they finally got to reap the rewards of his efforts. Sudden inspiration pierced through their foggy battle lusted brain, and casting out their arms as if to present their all to him, they continued, “You and I were made for this, and I need to reach this completion. To fight you, learn you, the end of the fight is unnecessary to me.” A heat rose to their cheeks, that was deeply personal to admit. It was a weight off their shoulders to finally cast off the disguise of heroism they threw over their obsession, but one that was quickly replaced by the crushing guilt. They had lied to themself, their friends and their allies, and if they somehow returned to those friends, Magius would continue to lie about their desire for the rest of their days. Instead, they choose to only confide in the man who made everyone's lives hell.

Drakath seemed to oscillate between being disturbed and being… excited? Magius waited with bated breath. Surely he would continue the fight, right? Drakath had to have felt this as well, because why else would he have spent his attention on them? Making Magius feel this way? He smiled slowly. To anyone else it would’ve seemed sickening, but to Magius it just heightened their excitement.

“You really should’ve stopped at some point.” His words were slow and cutting. “When you’re dying alone and empty here, keep thinking of me, alright?”

And then he was gone. Having used the time they were talking to recover enough to use his wings to take off towards the gate. 

Falling forward onto their hands and knees, Magius threw up, blood coming up with whatever was left in their stomach. Literally spilling their guts out to go along with their stupid confession. Idiot! Dumbass! Of course he wouldn’t feel the same. They hated each other! That wellspring they had used to continue fighting completely evaporated within them, their arms giving out beneath them. Magius narrowly avoided falling into their sick by rolling onto their side, their vision threatening to give out as their body struggled not to shut down.

They had given up their pride, their chance at redemption, their oaths, their body, everything for a scrap of attention. A pitiful laugh crawled out of their throat along with a little more blood. They really were pathetic weren’t they?

It wasn’t a testament to their will that they began to crawl towards the gate with their one working arm. Just a realization that their last remnants could be good for something. Magius may have been scattered to the wind, but they were still a weapon. They could keep going if Lore needed to use them.

[screwlifeletswrite]

A few more headcannons I have made about Puck from the Sisters Grimm because I’m so close to being done with my fanfic and need something to keep me going (pt.2):

- I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he’s got BAD adhd and dyslexia.

- Puck wins every sword fight sparring, Sabrina wins every hand to hand combat sparring

- Neither he nor Sabrina are morning people. And while Sabrina has her coffee pretty close to just black, Pucks coffee is at least 70% sugar and creamer.

- He didn’t get his drivers license for years after coming back because as he quotes “I hate my mortal name and I can just fly anyway so what’s the point?”

- He absolutely fumbles during his proposal. And drops the ring. And falls trying to get down on one knee.

- His favorite color is green, but specifically forest green because, obviously.

[beevean]

So, I started to watch Netflixvania, just to get the full context of... well, everything, from its fame to the grievances some fans have with it.

Season 1 was fairly boring, to be honest, but it was also mercifully short, so I don’t have much to say. It establishes the conflict, which is Dracula waging war on humanity due to his grief - and he’s the best part of the season.

Speaking of characters, we also get a good glimpse of Trevor, Sypha and Alucard! Trevor... kind of feels like a Guts halfway through his Black Swordsman-ization? He’s standoffish, perpetually sarcastic, and reluctant to save people, but he does so anyway out of his own sense of morality. He also becomes more heroic after shedding his huge, evil-looking cape. If it’s intentional, I like it. Also, he’s a drunkard, because #relatable. (not even worth comparing him to what little we see of him in CoD, where he’s far more noble and humble while still being a hothead - I’ll throw him a bone and say that it’s possible he could go through character development) Not much to say about Sypha, though, I only took that she cares very much about politeness lmao. I’m not even mad that she’s so powerful, she is canonically OP as hell :P Alucard, on the other hand, comes off as rather smug - he’s even called “floating vampire Jesus”.

(their designs are also good. While I slightly prefer Trevor’s CoD design because I’m biased :P I also like this more macho, gruffier version. He looks ready for combat and for travelling, although it’s a little odd how his shirt looks militaristic. Sypha wins by default due to her game designs being... lacking, but seriously, she’s pretty cute. Alucard is nearly identical to his game counterpart except his clothes are very simplified. Like, extremely simplified :P)

(... and I still think his face is rather uncanny, but hey)

Speaking of designs, I was rather weirded out by how the Belmont Clan became the Belmont House and talked about as if they were nobles. If it’s a reference to Leon, who I know exists in this lore, didn’t he give away his title? Shouldn’t the Belmonts before Trevor be known as “mere” vampire hunters, and gain fame after Trevor defeated Dracula? I know that this show picks and chooses what it wants to keep, and man I will rant about it in Season 2, but if it kept “the Belmont family was excommunicated by the Church”, I don’t understand what making the family noble accomplishes, other than giving Trevor a fancy shirt.

Speaking of random canon changes, Sypha insists that she’s not a witch, but a “Speaker”, which is apparently a nomad scholar. Sypha can just use magic for some reason. I prefer the games’ approach of calling every female magic user a witch, whether affiliated with good or evil.

I was rather annoyed by how edgy the series wants to be. I could just laugh when the Vampire Killer somehow yeeted away a whole eye lmao, talk about trying too hard. Flying guts don’t shock me anymore, and the frequent mentions of piss are just tasteless for the sake of tasteless. Sorry, Sypha joking that she could make Trevor drink her pee doesn’t make her funny. And I know it doesn’t get better :^)

Also, Church bad. We get it. I browse Reddit too. (and it’s the wrong church to boot!) As mentioned before, the games have a more grey depiction of the Church: the Belmonts have heavy holy powers, but the Church has also done shady things like exiling the clan due to fear, and that’s not mentioning villains like Graham or Barlowe. Point is, “Church bad” is not enough to create an interesting moral conflict.

But who cares, when the fight scenes are the peak of the show? And yeah, I mean it. The animation is good, and becomes great during fights. While the first two Trevor fights were played for laughs as evidenced by the silly music, the Trevor vs. Alucard scene was where the budget clearly went. There was a lot of thought into it, some smart strategies from both of them, and yeah the whole thing was pure eyecandy. (the fanservice is pretty blatant too, and I appreciate the honesty)

Basically, all of this above? Made me feel I was watching a Berserk knockoff, who only took “edge! gore! religion bad!” out of it, and failed to include all the more complex terms like fatalism or determination.

I really don’t have much else to add. The plot... isn’t there! These 100 minutes or so have been nothing but exposition and establishing the set up. We saw Dracula’s origin story, we got introduced to the main protagonists, and we saw that Church bad. And to think I thought the pacing would be rushed based on the first episode, where we didn’t even see Dracula and Lisa’s relationship before she gets executed - we go from Dracula saying that he might like her to her at the stake! I wonder how people felt when this first came out.

Season 2 is where things will get interesting. Not only because many more elements will be introduced, and the plot will move along, but...

I can’t wait to have Words about you two :)

[skye-huntress]

The Witch from Mercury Reaction

Episode 1: “The Witch and the bride”

Now the fun part begins

So I know Suletta talks to Aerial all the time and treats her like a sister, and that Aerial is indeed sentient, but it hasn’t been clarified yet how much Aerial can actually communicate back. Would we ever be able to hear Aerial speak?

Asticassia School of Technology. Putting that here for myself as a reference for later because I have not memorised the name yet.

How was Suletta able to spot a person with how much she needed to zoom in on the screen? They must have been little more than a handful pixels on the screen at most.

It’s kind of worrying that in her rush to save a life she nearly steps on a few people on the way out.

As first meetings between potential couples go, it could be worse.

I am here for Suletta being an absolute awkward stuttering mess. I’m terrible with talking with people as well and if I grew up like she did I’d probably be just as bad, if not worse.

So apparently everybody knows Miorine’s plans to run away to Earth and I’m just wondering how much she has actually thought this through. If a pair of girls who are clearly not her friends know that much of her intentions, probably not her first attempt, and she hasn’t been as smart or secretive about it as she would need to be to succeed.

I’m somewhat interested in the duelling records of the other top pilots. Guel seems to have a perfect track record, though I wonder how much of that is due to actual skill, or if he has ever fought one of those other members of the duelling club.

He interrupted a class just to have Miorine as an audience to his ego trip. What a tool.

It’s interesting that despite everything going on, Miorine not only noticed Suletta in the line of fire but was the only one to risk her own life to drag her out of the way and even covered Suletta with her body when the mech fell.

Given what we know about her, I’m actually surprised that Miorine is allowed to own that little greenhouse. It’s clear that if Guel had his way she wouldn’t have had even that much for much longer, so I’m wondering if it was originally set up by her mother or something.

I can’t say I yet understand how Delling thinks but he seems to subscribe to the philosophy that the strong make the rules irregardless of any sort of logic or ethics, which would explain the current duelling system. That would suggest that he views his own daughter as weak and therefore unworthy of deciding anything for herself. She is basically a trophy, an object to be won and possessed, not seen as her own person.

Suletta is clearly not the confrontational type, and someone as violent as Guel is probably very intimidating to her, yet she still has such a strong sense of morality to stand up to him anyway, at least metaphorically speaking. It’s hilarious that she slapped him on the ass of all things and apparently hard enough to actually hurt him.

“Do you know who I am?” A walking cliche? Not only is Suletta so sheltered she doesn’t know, nor does she have any grasp on the concept of privilege, she is too idealistic (or naive) to care. She stood up to him aware of the risk that he could get physically violent with her, obviously she doesn’t care who his daddy is, even if she did know.

I like the switch to confidence at the mention of a duel. She doesn’t even hesitate at the prospect of being forced to leave the school. As far as I know, this girl has no actual combat experience, there is no reason she should be confident she can win at something she has never done before.

I get and respect why Miorine wanted to fight the duel herself, to win back her agency. I want that for her more than anything else. I also get that she didn’t expect Suletta to win and that if she didn’t do something the girl would have been kicked out school and her own situation wouldn’t have changed. All that said, she had no chance of winning.

Nika is just too nice.

I just noticed Guel actually does call Miorine a trophy. Ass.

Oh look, Suletta reciprocated the headbutt from earlier, they really are made for each other. I think this is the only time so far that Suletta has actually gotten mad at anyone. I suppose from her point of view, it’s a bit like Miorine kidnapped her baby sister. It sounds absurd when I say it out loud, which means I am absolutely going to keep calling Aerial that.

“If you run, you gain one. If you move forward, you gain two.” I get the purpose of this mantra was her mother’s way of encouraging Suletta to overcome her fears and take on new challenges, even at the risk of failure, but I do worry about how it would apply to life or death circumstances. In the prologue, her mother had no choice but to run, because to “move forward” would have meant throwing her own daughter’s life away. I have concerns that Suletta will one day put herself in a situation where the best course of action for her would be to run and she’ll make the wrong choice.

That was surprisingly easy and fast. For the supposed top dueller, Guel was easy to beat, which is why I questioned how good he actually is. His arrogance and hot-headedness would certainly work against him against a more level-headed opponent, so I wonder if he could have won against someone like Elan

Speaking of Elan, for someone who initially showed no interest in the duel, he was the first to speak up about Aerial potentially being a Gundam. That word certainly got Shaddiq’s attention

Congratulations to Suletta on her new engagement. I’m so proud, my girl is growing up so fast. Seems like just yesterday she started her first day at school. Actually, I’m pretty sure this all happened on her first day at school.

So I’m not surprised or concerned that she isn’t aware that same sex relationships are a thing. She’s lived on Mercury most of her life and obviously has very limited exposure to the outside world. Most of her knowledge of relationships probably come from media which we all know is heavily saturated with heteronormative content. Fortunately, Miorine seems to take it in stride and corrects her on it.

As for how Miorine feels, this is probably surreal for her. She didn’t win her freedom, but this obviously would give her a lot of breathing room. She knows Suletta is harmless, and she’s the first person in who knows how long to treat her like she is her own person. And if the arranged marriage did go ahead, being Suletta’s wife certainly wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to her. Not that she plans on letting things get that far.

As for me, I don’t think the arranged marriage will happen. That is to say, I expect shit to hit the fan before that actually happens. When the dust settles and if Miorine lives to see it, perhaps then she’ll be free to make her own choices.

As a final note, there’s some irony in Suletta indirectly saving Delling’s life. That aside, I am not the least bit surprised that asshole had an assassination plot against him. There’s probably a long list of people that want him dead.

[ofdetonation]

@manlyselfcare​​  inquired :      [ ATTEMPT ]      ╱      even  more  injury  memes. [ ATTEMPT ] :      for sender to intervene in a fight receiver is in but receiver has already sustained an injury.

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥  𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗞  𝗪𝗔𝗦  𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬  𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗗  𝗧𝗢  𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗧 .      when they worked in a formation of offence vs. defence,   a lot of villains would find it hard to find an opening,   opting to trying to separate them.     usually  that doesn’t work      ⸺      but nothing was proving very usual with this battle,   including their opponents.

at some point,   the two of them were finally split apart,   the young bakugou being isolated with a few varying villains      ╱      determined as the real threat,   the firepower behind their battle dynamic.     he did like testing his chances.     (  being outnumbered didn’t always feel like an actual challenge,   however      ⸺      perhaps that was just because of his skill,   his unrivalled talent of weaving through battle like it were a  dance,   explosions a dissonant melody while he wields himself like a knife.     precise,   deadly.  )     this time,   these villains were giving him a good run for his money ;     smirk ever wide,   palms littered with the playful dance of sparks.

even without kirishima there,   there is a resounding promise in undaunted gaze ;     they weren’t about to catch him so easily.     if they wanted him to fall,   they’d have to try a little harder,   stop treating this fight like it’s a  game.

katsuki scarcely makes mistakes.     such commodities can’t be made in the midst of battle,   where every action factors in life or death      ╱      one of the  first  things katsuki taught himself was how to avoid taking risks in the first place,   how to persevere if a mistake was made,   and how to bend but never snap under the pressure.     these few things were reasonable explanation to why he soared above the class in terms of combat skill ;     he understood that,   in spite of the odds pitted against him sometimes,   there would  always  be a window to win.     even if it means bending and crumbling under the pressure,   victory was near indisputable.

he was fast and had taken out many of the villains that surrounded him,   but the final villain moves faster,   using katsuki’s momentum against him to knock him off-balance and leave him susceptible.     they reach for his face and claw at it.     the blond bites back the initial wince,   growling instead,   teeth bared as he redirects,   redistributes      ⸺      despite the pain,   there is a plan quickly formulated.

hands outstretch and grab at the arm that holds him,   glare piercing through despite his blurred vision,   point-blank blasts dancing across their skin to make them let go.     their stubbornness earns them a few burns.     his hands keep heating and the blasts keep intensifying,   but he can’t seem to  make  the villain let go of him,   the snarl becoming more prominent the longer he’s held there      ╱      but then he feels himself be knocked back,   landing on the ground harshly despite a few explosions to cushion his fall.     (  that wasn’t him being tossed.     his efforts hadn’t shaken them before.     then it was ⸺  )

coloured red hair and unbreakable stance indicates that his friend had  finally  made it back from his fight.     he must’ve been the one to make the villain let go ;     charging in,   using his quirk like the unshakable bastard he was,   putting distance between them so the blond could gather his senses.     (  it’s back to their dynamic,   the offence and defence.     it’s like they’d never been separated in the first place ;     who else could pull that off ?  )     the young bakugou pushes himself up slowly from the ground.     his vision might be a little obscured,   the taste of iron on his lips that seeps into his throat,   the smell of smoke from his palms filling his lungs,   but he wasn’t so gravely injured he couldn’t fight.     he  needed  to keep fighting.

besides,   having them both take on the villain is better than one at a time,   right ?

❝    took ya long enough,   shitty hair,    ❞     katsuki says,   spitting out the build-up of blood and saliva in his mouth.     he winces when he touches his face lightly to determine the damage done to it      ⸺       surface level,   thankfully.     it helps that he could still talk.     none of the muscles had gone with injury.     ❝    let’s  murder  this guy into the fuckin’ ground.    ❞

[zemossunshine]

Sunshine Chapter 41

Pairings: Zemo x You  Bucky x You

Summary: Falling in love with a villain. This will start sweet and then go very dark.

Tags: Explicit. Mature. Not for minors. Dark. Angst. Knife play. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. Self Harm . Vomiting. Nightmares. Sleepwalking. Torture. Smut. Broken Bones. Blood. Injury. Violence. Rough Sex. Rape. Kidnapping. Spanking. Unhealthy Relationships. Mental Health Issues. Anal Sex. Orgasm Delay. Fear. Blow Jobs. Sexual Violence. Suicide Attempt. Reference To Domestic Violence. Sleepwalking. Memory Loss. Gen Violence. Threats. Manipulation. Manipulative Relationship. Murder. Death. Loss Of Parents. Implied Alcohol Abuse. Threats Of Rape. Non Consensual Drug Use. Emotional Manipulation. Gaslighting.

Warnings for this chapter: Threats.

Take your eyes off of me so I can leave, I’m far too ashamed to do it with you watching me. This is never ending, we have been here before. But I can’t stay this time because I don’t love you anymore. I can’t love you in the dark. It feels like we are oceans apart, there is so much space between us, baby we are already defeated. Everything has changed me and I don’t think you can save me.

–

The knowledge that your darling husband had possibly raped you, made you more ruthless, more motivated, turning Hydras hologram into a reality. More determined to learn to defend yourself, to focus, concentrate. To be a soldier, well Victor’s soldier and you excelled under his training.

Hand to hand combat, grappling around the lab. Sword fighting? A breeze and Victor never held back, it was sport for him, you were keeping his skills sharp just as he was doing the same for you. The only look on his face was that of euphoria, never pity, Victor didn’t see you as a victim, he saw you as something different. You were never quite sure what it was, perhaps he was training you to fight Hydra, get the upper hand, take a weapon and take them all out. But that wasn’t important, what was, was the task at hand. Trying to disarm Victor and his doombots. Sliding in between his legs, using your metal leg as leverage you shot up, ready to hook the hilt of your sword under his hand and use as much brute force as you could to rip it away. Seeing the reflection on Victor’s armour stopped that, you had cut down every doombot in your way, but this was Victor, they would keep coming. You planted the heel of your foot on Victor's slightly bent knee and flipped in the air. Bringing your sword down, slicing the doombot clean in half. Catching that Victor was stunned, he had you believing you had already taken care of the bots, you threw your sword towards his hand.

A direct hit. Victor almost dropped his sword. Almost.

You jumped in the air, ecstatic. That was a win, Victor was inhumanly strong, only someone who could match his strength would prise that thing out of his hand. Victor agreed, giving you as much of a round of applause that a single person could. You bowed dramatically. Self defence, you had it now and the day Hydra slipped up, they would know too.

Sitting down for another adjustment of the leg, you quickly controlled your breathing. Nodding to Victor's request to touch you and reading through the latest headlines. The press had turned on Victor, he had been ostracised. The public forgetting all that he had done, how many times he disposed of Kang, the enemies he had slayed, the nukes he took out of play, so fickle. So frustrating, the world didn’t see what you could. Would the world listen? At the very least you could both hide in that shield and shout at the top of your lungs, try to make them understand. You would bet the world would go back to signing his praises if another variant of Kang turned up. You went between smiling and scoffing, thankful that Victor kept your metal leg at its best, thankful your fighting skills were being worked on, all skills you could have used before. There was one skill which would be useful, that Victor had not taught you and to his credit you never saw him use.

“Sign this.” You purred, putting on your best attempt to be alluring.

Victor’s eyes roved your body as he looked into your fluttering eyes, you pulled your leg off slowly away from him. Keeping eye contact as he rose to his full height looming over you. You gave him your best wide eyed look as you gradually stood up, holding out the tablet. Victor swallowed thickly and your lips curled. This is working.

“What is it?”

“Does it matter?” You slid the tablet behind you, purposely and needlessly checking it wouldn't fall from the table, to elongate your neck to expose it to Victor. You moved closer to him, careful not to close the gap completely. Interestingly Victor didn’t pull back. You blushed, running your tongue along your lower lip, watching Victor’s dazzling green eyes follow the movement. You had him, hook line and sinker. Victor reached behind you to place both hands on the table, either side of you an attempt to cage you in, heat radiated off him, melting onto your skin. You couldn’t deny you were tempted, but you had the feeling you had started something you couldn’t finish.

“Distracting as you are,” Victor rasped in your ear. “I need to keep my wits about me.” Victor moved forward to inspect the tablet and you instinctively rested back, keeping that space. You wanted to pout, you couldn’t do it, couldn't prove that Zemo caught you off guard. You couldn’t make Victor sign something as Zemo once made you.

–

Victor had you bent over a table, it was going to happen sooner or later, his hands digging into your hips with your easily given permission. You squirmed against him, panting making your mouth dry, and a small part of you wondered if Victor could have you bent over for other reasons. Today was about fear, the fear Victor promised would come. Your hands in cuffs bolted to the table. Ankles clamped to the legs of the table with cable ties. Just as Zemo had you in the basement. Victor wanted to use that memory to show you, to show you how to escape, to be able to get out without his help. On the first try, you dislocated your thumbs, Victor tightened the cuffs. The second try, you managed to kick one of the legs out on the table, it didn’t matter how far the cable ties cut into you now, the pain didn’t even register. Victor swapped the table for a steel one. And on this go, all that was left was a paralysing terror, you pulled, kicked, knowing all too well what was coming and what it felt like. Another violation of your body. Obviously Victor wouldn’t do that, but it would be a disappointment to Victor, to yourself, this was hard enough trying to think past the pounding of your heart, the feeling of intrusion on your body.

“Concentrate Sweetheart. Give me your pain.”

My powers?

You couldn’t, your powers had weird rules. But then Victor had shown you that you hadn't really explored your powers, didn't truly understand yourself. That there were things you didn’t know, that you were stronger than you had ever been before. To be able to inflict pain with just a command of your mind? Then you could defend yourself from anything, including the humiliating clamps used on your hands. A loophole? For Hydra, for every birthday, for Zemo. Victor tightened his grip on your hips, reminding you exactly what was at stake. What you could save yourself from.

Pain.

Curling your fingers around the lip of the table, you held on, pushing out everything from your mind. You clenched your toes, locked up your arms, clamped your thighs together. Forcing every muscle to burn, to cooperate with your mind, gritting your teeth as you squashed your mouth closed. Vibrating with the want, the need, to be able to do this. Your head pulsed, the pressure in your body throbbing with every beat, just as you were about to scream in frustration a black consumed you.

Unfortunately it wasn’t the black you hoped for. You fainted. You and Victor tried over and over all wielding the same result. Victor could push you, force you to do the experiment naked, terrify you to your core, he never did. After a few weeks you asked to stop. This was not within your remit, it couldn’t be done. And you could live with that, you had other means to protect yourself now.

–

“I found a normal world!” Victor rushed out before you could even open your eyes. Before your body had even registered that you were being pulled out of your slumber. Before D could even hand you a coffee, before you could brush your teeth. “Do you want to go?” Victor checked as you had refused to see anymore. You must have nodded an agreement because instead of stepping into your slippers or onto the misshapen bricks. You stepped onto a rough, well used carpet, fighting against the disorientation. You took in the quiet, minimalistic bedroom. A modest bed with black sheets. A bedside table with nothing on it. A dying plant. It reminded you of your apartment back in New York, it didn’t look lived in. A quiet life? Lips quirking up, you turned to Victor, only for your jaw to fall slack at what you were seeing. The wall was plastered with polaroids, all of you and Maria. On missions, on the quinjet, in a bar, sleeping, laughing, smiling. If you were in New York as you suspected from the sounds outside and living here with Maria, then this life was possible back on your world. It wasn’t exactly a boring life, but you were helping, you were happy.

“What’s the difference?”

“She told you that you were enhanced.”

“That’s it?” You shrieked in shock. That one tiny piece of information changed the course of your life. To know there was a possibility that you could be dangerous, a decision was made, by who, you would never know, to stay by Maria’s side and therefore Fury’s too. It looked like you were their right hand woman. You watched in fascination as you and Maria bundled through the door, clearly exhausted from a mission, but not sullen or sour, it was clearly a success. There was a comfortable silence between you, friends, close friends. Without a word being spoken you both played rock paper scissors. Maria gave you a playful look when you won and sauntered off to occupy the only shower in the apartment. She heated up something that looked incredibly out of date, she took a few bites with weary shoulders. When the water stopped. The alternate version of you sat and ate the rest of her plate. Just by this little interaction alone you could see you were both called on often, both too busy, both ate what you could when you could.

Which is why this turnaround was so quick, both you and Victor followed you and Maria to the rooftop. You and Victor gave each other a pleased look when the other you sat in the pilot's seat of the quinjet. You knew how to fly here. You had been trained as an agent. You made a mental note to ask to visit this world often. Tears formed in your eyes as you and Maria reminisced. Both of your full hearted laughter filling the cabin, ideas of what to get Fury for Christmas, the present had to be small, transportable, dropped at a secret location in case either of you didn’t see him. If you could slip away for drinks and dancing one night. You seemed so content here.

I could have had this?

A bittersweet feeling. You could have had this life, but then no Rebecca. Why did everything go back to that? You looked upbeat here, you were helping, surely this was everything you wanted? A scowl formed across your face when that circular metal prison came into view. There is a chance Zemo wasn't here, in this world. Victor looked hesitant, he brought you here to this world and there was now a chance it wasn’t as good as he believed. The Raft, you had Rebecca here, met Victor here, there were good memories here too, you gave him an encouraging squeeze on his hand, trying to make him and yourself believe you weren’t as anxious as you knew you were. You noticed the armoury and supplies were swapped around on this world. The kitchen was laid out differently, which is where the alternate you headed, clearly half a plate of noodles didn’t hit the spot. Maria went off to see Ross, the other you grabbed a couple of biscuits, stopping a guard to ask how things were. He lit up talking to the other you, telling you all about his bowling club. That glow. The other you continued on, being stopped by guards filing each other in the goings on of your lives. You could tell you glossed over details, things that were classified, instead you spoke of new places to eat in the city, the weather, things like that.

Victor trailed along behind you, trusting you and your intuition. You whipped your head around to him in disbelief. You watched sadness pour into his eyes, you had an inkling of what he had seen, Zemo’s life was as parallel as it was in your world. Watching in horror, that magnetic pull Zemo had on you, luring you in, fulfilling your destiny in this world too. A guard let the other you into his cell without question.

“Get me in there.” You demanded.

Victor looked unsure, he could mess with space time continuum, but you, that was different. This wasn’t your world, it didn’t matter, you were getting in there and getting this other you out. There wouldn’t be a Rebecca in this world, the other you would never know, she could move on, just get away from Zemo. Obviously you would need to come up with a lot of utter bullshit on the spot, this was doable as long as you didn’t engage with Zemo. Totally fine. You lied to yourself. Just remind yourself that it wasn’t your Zemo, ignore him totally, pretend he wasn’t there. Victor shook his head muttering for you to be careful, he knew this was a risk. His cloak billowed as he stormed off in search of the control room. The door opened, all of the guards eyes glazed over, some spell of Victor’s doing. The alternate Zemo’s eyes became enigmatic as soon as you stepped in, he moved his body just slightly in front of the alternate you to shield her. And for that you made sure to roll your eyes as you came into view.

Holding you hands up in a sign of surrender. “Don’t panic.” You told your stunned alternate self with a gentle tone. Zemo seemed to believe you as he moved away allowing you to get closer. You put on a friendly smile. “You need to find Maria now.”

“Is something about to happen?”

“No.” You briefly looked down to the other you's stomach, trying to convey the message, you knew about her powers, she would know if something was about to happen, she would feel the red in her gut, even if no one worked out what her powers were yet. Hoping to show that you could be trusted. If my powers are the same here. Or you just told her that you knew she was covered in one grotesque scar. That Hydra put there, perhaps not the best course of action. “Please.”

“There is no need to search for Agent Hill, the true objective is to remove you from this cell.” Zemo said, ascertaining that you were lying without even seeing your face, your eye twitched, you steeled your focus back on the other you ignoring him and his obnoxious nature.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” The alternate you gulped, you could feel the discomfort radiating off her.

“I’m from the future, everyone’s eyes are like this.” You nodded as if would make her believe you.

“No.” Zemo stated matter of factly. “The only thing you have achieved is letting this version of yourself know that I am of great significance.”

This fucker will always have an answer to everything. Ignoring him again while keeping the gentleness in your voice, you lifted your sleeves to show the now silver scars, the only marks of your arms. The scars, the remnants of Zemo’s deceptive love. Anything to deter history repeating itself. “Zemo did this to me.”

“Why?” The other you said breathlessly, eyes flicking to Zemo a bit too often for your liking, Zemo had enticed her already.

Why? Why the fuck does it matter why? “You cannot come back here.” You pressed.

“And what exactly will she be giving up by doing so?” Zemo interrupted. You evaded him again, refusing to even look in his direction. “A marriage.” Zemo hummed in triumph. And you saw that bright smile spread on the alternate version of your face, understanding that Zemo was your husband, a gasp fell from her lips. No one, not a single soul across the multiverse could rile the way Zemo did, could ignite a fire within you so easily. Cursing yourself for not slipping the ring off your finger before you stepped in here. You had a facade to maintain, you let out a single bark of laughter. “I stole it.”

“No.” Zemo added helpfully. “That is a family heirloom. Green suits you.”

You briefly wondered if Zemo would think green suited you now, being Victor’s colours. Trying not to drop the welcoming look on your face that you knew was waning. “Zemo gifted it to my husband as an apology for what he put me through.” You were overjoyed at how easy that rolled off your tongue.

“A child.” Zemo stumbled out, unable to believe it himself. As he said it and you had reached your limit, all resolve snapping, allowing the rage to pour in. You knew you were not convincing your past self now, she was staring at Zemo now, seeing her future in his eyes, she hadn't looked away from him once.

“I want a divorce.” You scowled, twirling around to jab your finger into his chest. Zemo eyes sparkled with that cunning smile he had mastered plastered on his face. That twinkle in his eyes, that he knew better as he always did. Zemo didn’t show a single smidgen of fear. The alternate you was trying very politely to get in between you. She didn’t want to hurt either of you. You stepped back first telling yourself that you were the bigger person. But you knew deep down it wasn’t you just couldn’t stand up to Zemo, he would always bring out the weakness in you. Strange this version of Zemo seemingly knew to not try and touch you, knew that whatever happened in your world, was too much for you to handle. Trying one last ditch effort to barter with this alternate you, “You will never meet your child.”

Zemo’s eyes snapped to you showing kindness and empathy for your situation. There was a part of you that wanted to cry in his arms, fall into the Zemo you yearned for and as the alternate version of you held out her hand to Zemo, to show a united front, you knew you lost. You laughed ironically, asking yourself why, why him every time. Hoping he would be different here, almost defeated until you realised this presented you with the upper hand, the alternate version of you wouldn’t listen to you, but she would listen to Zemo, you just had to give him the right information, Zemo would just have to read between the lines of what you said.

“Zemo, she only needs you to protect her, nothing else. Nothing.” Your mind raced thinking of what else you could say without messing with things here, but enough for Zemo to know, that maybe you shouldn't have your powers if they are the same, but then what if this version can protect herself? Victor opened the door from the control room, he would be able to see the predicament you were in.

“The world hasn’t been kind to you.” Zemo sighed in sorrow, you smiled sadly at him. You weren’t kind to me. Zemo frowned at that, understanding you immediately, knowing exactly what you were thinking. “For what it's worth, I am sorry for whatever I, he, your husband has done to you."

Maybe one day you would get to hear those words from your Zemo, closing your eyes against the tears rushing to your eyes. Another pang of devastation to eat away at you. You stepped out of the cell giving your other self the same warning Victor had, to be careful, she was already clutching onto Zemo’s hand for dear life, caving into the impulse you know she would fell to be with him. Naive. Shaking your head at how blind you were to not see it the first time you walked into this cell on your earth. Zemo went to step out of the cell after you, you weren't sure why, to try and bring you comfort, to apologise again?

“I can’t let you out of here again.” You snivelled, giving way too much away, Zemo smirked at you, not because you had given him intel, but because of how much he adored you already, seeing the guard let you enter unarmoured would have told him how well liked you were. Maybe they could get their happily ever after? Victor joined you quickly and opened a portal but there was a sombre undertone, he found a world full of hope only for it to be quashed again, how long would it be before you died here too? Another blow to your life. You turned back when the door slammed shut in Zemo’s cell, you knew that sound, it was so familiar, the metal clinking. Frowning at the obscured glass, you didn’t understand the confusion in your mind. You worked at the Raft, not for long, but you heard that sound everyday. It felt as if your mind was trying to show you a different image, something that wasn’t a glass door.

–

Maria Hill

One of Victor's screens flashed with her name. Splaying his hand over the display, rapid images of breaking news appeared and disappeared as quickly as the next image. It didn’t say she had been abducted, imprisoned, this was just her name and a very general area. Chicago, you had a rough location and that was enough for Victor to spring into action to fulfil his promise, to protect those you loved.

Not wanting to distract from the skirmish or even really get involved. Whatever is fair. You and Victor walked down a street that was already littered with abandoned vehicles. Victor’s influence over electricity was surging around you as he tried to locate her, brushing the back of his bare hand on buildings, watching the lights flicker out as he tried to detect the feel of a human's natural electricity. Street lights toppled in front of you, the alarms blaring from cars silenced as he passed, Victor looked like a living nightmare, killing everything in his path. A frightened group of teenagers paused when they saw you, not noticing Victor. You didn’t even flinch when traffic lights fell from above, crumpling at your feet, smirking behind your mask as they backed away.

“It’s the grim Reaper!”

That’s extreme. With the cloak you could see it, but you were missing the scythe. What was the point in trying to explain? No one ever listened to you anyway. Those teenagers only added to your agitation. The frustration that you didn’t know exactly where Maria was. Trackers do come in handy. Victor called you over and you both raced up the stairs. Victor kept his eyes closed, tracing his fingers along the wall desperately trying to get a location. You both didn’t even know if it was Maria in here, it could just be any human. After climbing several floors of the skyscraper, Victor finally veered off. Meticulously searching under the desks of the office, calling her name, you saw the soles of sensible, well worn shoes.

The floor underneath you lifted, tilting your world. The top of this building was keeling over. When the soles of those shoes started slipping you took a running start to slide on your knees, using the incremented floor to your advantage. You held your hand out for balance and only curled your fingers around the hilt you had become accustomed to once you heard your sword flying through the air. Only adjusting your body slightly to catch it without looking. By the hilt. Just like Victor wanted. You dreaded to think what Zemo would do if he ever discovered you were willingly inside a collapsing building. The power he held over you was truly outstanding, you envied him, you wanted to know how he did it. Jabbing the sword into the vinyl flooring and rolling over Maria’s body as you trapped in between your body and the sword tearing through, as the raising floor sent you both, hurtling to the edge.

Preparing yourself for Maria’s weight, jutting the sword in further as the top of the building, flopped over, metal groaning. Maria slipped and you caught her just in time. Glass rained down on you both, unable to hold her with your remaining arm you dropped her to wrap your legs around her. Her body flopped in your grasp, she would hardly be comfortable and was still unconscious, but you could see the small rise of her chest. She was alive. You just needed to figure out how to drop from ninety storeys up without both becoming pancakes. That and stop your hands sweating. I need gloves. You attempted to pull both you and Maria up, but to what end? To be inside an unstable building? Your ears caught the sound of something streamlining through the air, craning your neck you saw the edge of a wing dip behind a cloud. Sam? Or Torres? Adjusting your legs around Maria again, you moved to wipe the clammy feeling off one hand and then the other, ready to lean back and call out to whoever it was.

Spotting red wings fly underneath you, circling below as if Torres was evaluating the situation. There is nothing to assess here. You were about to call him back, but your ears honed in on the sound of the wings, the speed, his acceleration, and once he was close enough, you released the hold on your legs. Dropping Maria safely into his arms. Feeling a small sense of respite you watched as Sam met up with Torres. Sam carrying Maria into a helicopter that you knew would be piloted by Fury. The start of the chopping sound only helicopter blades could make. Fury wouldn't waste a moment, you couldn't see any obvious injuries on Maria, but as you knew all too well, some wounds couldn't be seen to the naked eye. Still clutching onto your sword a silver surfboard slinked its way up to you, leaving a trail of glitter in its wake. Victor slid along holding out a hand for you to step on, without taking a rather lengthy fall to your death.

“That’s new.” You said while jumping up to dislodge your sword.

“A gift from Da Vinci, I took the Silver Surfer’s power, he didn’t survive.”

That’s a bit more than new, that’s a whole new power. “Why?”

“He tried to kill Reed.” Victor argued. That was a good enough reason, it would fall under Victor's policy of being fair. You muttered an agreement under your breath as Victor's new silver stream slipped through the air, back up onto what now was the top of the building. The windy city indeed. Bullets flew through the air aimed at you and Victor, which honestly felt like a kick in the teeth as you both just rescued Maria. Victor positioned himself and his bullet proof armour to cover you as you tried again to yank your sword out, at least you could use all of your strength now, still the sound unnerved you. You would be out of here soon and everyone could go back to what they were actually doing.

“Why are they shooting at us?” You said exasperated.

“They don’t understand my motivations, Sweetheart. They don’t appreciate us.”

You can stay that again. This sword really was stuck, which you couldn’t really be mad at, it prevented both you and Maria from falling to your death. Victor wouldn’t retrieve it unless you asked, always allowing you to do this for yourself. Wiping the unwanted sweat from your hands, you gripped onto the hilt and wrenched it out, lifting your head to Victor, only to see his eyes ablaze looking out into the city.

Zemo.

Shit. This wasn’t an alternate Zemo, this was your Zemo. The one you had been waiting for, he was mere rooftop away, with his golden gun aimed at you and beside him, Bucky, one eye closed and the other down the scope of a sniper. Zemo’s gun arm lowered and panic settled itself firmly in your bones. There is no way he could know. You couldn’t even tell what you were under the cloak, if you were human, if you were even of this earth. The purple mask tilted his head at you and you fought the urge to turn away. You reminded yourself that that was Baron Zemo, the villain, the vigilante, the anti hero. Zemo tore the mask from his head as if he knew, he knew your thoughts from this distance, could see you through your mask, under the hood of your cloak.

Your breathing became laboured as you watched the leather of his purple gloves stretch over his hands as fists were created at his sides. You heart hammered as he inclined his head, taking in your full form, you closed your eyes, but your body knew better, it forced them to open, to stay alert, cold sweat formed on your neck. Stomach bubbling in anticipation of knowing what Zemo would do, even with this distance. Zemo took one measured step towards you as if he could reach you. Your body acted on instinct, your foot lifting against your wishes, acting of its own accord, matching his step, backing away as fear threatened to pull you under.

You have no idea what his ear splitting scream was, you had never even heard him raise his voice. All you know is that it reverberated off the building, vibrating along your skin as if he got his hands on you again. His voice consumed your mind, body and soul, as if he could reach into every part of you. Your hands searched for Victor to take you back. The fourth time you would beg. A number significant because it would mean Zemo overtook Hydra. You had three birthdays with them and four instances of pleading with Victor to take you away from Zemo. Which was fucked up enough as it was, that you had to ask a man like Victor to save you. Getting ready to swallow your pride, to find the courage to even speak, Victor spoke for you.

“He only recognised you because you are afraid.” Another punch to the gut, Zemo intimidated you to verify what he very likely already knew. He knew it was you, he probably only did that to prove it, to demonstrate to Bucky. “As long as you are by my side, they cannot hurt you.”

Before you could react, you were soaring towards Zemo under a silver wave. Your mask flew off your face and was lost to the wind. You couldn’t say a thing, your throat felt like sandpaper. Your arms reached out to Victor for balance, for salvation, to not have to be anywhere near either Zemo or Bucky. Zemo lunged for you with his sword. Victor knocked it clean out of his hand. “Don’t embarrass yourself.” Victor goaded. This was not going to go well at all. Lowering your head and hiding behind Victor, putting something, anything between you and Zemo. “Now I know you were raised better than that, you should ask permission before you manhandle someone.”

“I don’t need permission. That is my wife.”

Victor threw you a poignant look over his shoulder. “That: A pronoun referring to a thing or object.” Pointing out Zemo’s apparent belief that he owned you. Victor’s tone shifted. “Is there anything you want to ask Sweetheart.”

You knew exactly what he wanted you to ask. And he was demanding that you did, ask the questions you didn’t get an answer to. But you didn’t want to provoke Zemo or Bucky any further, to escalate this already volatile atmosphere. Hearing the tremor in your voice, you asked “How is Rebecca?”

“Missing her mother.” Zemo snapped without missing a beat.

“What exactly is it Rebecca misses?” Victor snapped back just as fast. When silence fell, you didn’t understand, this would be a delightful thing to hear. Did Rebecca miss nothing about you? Did she not like what she was hearing? Not one thing? Unless Zemo didn’t tell her a thing. You birthed Rebecca, alone and afraid, so he would at the very least have her. You had been mutilated by Hydra and he hadn’t spoken a word of your existence to Rebecca. Peeking out from under Victor’s arm, instead of pointedly staring at the grey cement, you saw Bucky’s hard eyes flickering between where you knew Zemo to be and Victor, his tongue moving in his mouth. When Bucky’s eyes flickered to his other side you knew he could hear something you couldn’t.

Detecting a slight whistle in the air. "Victor." He turned his head just as an arrow made an attempt to impale his eye, instead it dropped to the floor. It looked like a coincidence, they would be none the wiser.

“When you are returned to me, there will be hell to pay.” Zemo threatened.

What is wrong with you? You moved out from the protection of Victor, feeling a small sense of shelter within the bounds of your cloak against your skittish heart. “I have been missing for years.” You tried, unable to believe that Zemo would be cruel enough to not keep your memory alive for your daughter. Flabbergasted that he could be so vicious. After everything you had endured this is how the man who claimed to love you most in the world was speaking to you.

“You were taken by force then?” Zemo questioned, it was only then you had the courage to look at him. He looked unhinged.

“Yes.” You defended quietly glancing at Victor who's presence was only taunting Zemo further. Feeling slightly guilty, as Victor gave you a clear choice, he could save you and Rebecca, if you went with him. “No, not exactly, I-” That seemed to be the code word to make both men crack and drop any composure, any tactic they were holding onto. A startled cry came from you as you fell back thankfully into Victor, who had prevented you from toppling off the edge of this building. Victor enacted his golden shield, giving you further security he wouldn't allow them to touch you, he would keep his word, that they couldn’t hurt you.

“What the hell is that noise?” Bucky growled. His eyes darted to various places on Victor. His own arm which was unnaturally still. He can hear my leg. You stopped trusting Victor’s word and his shield, you wrapped Victor’s free arm around your waist, securing them in place, You weren't allowing him to let go. Zemo would go ballistic if he found out while he was in this frame of mind, his scathing looks were enough.

“Take me home.” You all but shouted frantically.

“I am your home.” Zemo's tone was carnal, mirth clouding his eyes.

“Where is Rebecca’s home?” Victor interjected, breathing down your neck. Looking in between them you knew that Zemo wouldn’t give out that information even if he were tortured for it. You squeezed Victor’s metal arms, you didn’t want to be here any longer, an overwhelming sense of dread was waiting to consume you.

“Sunshine if you leave here now, you will break my heart.” Zemo lowered his voice into something deceivingly gentle. Words that would tug on your heart strings, but you knew what it was: a thinly veiled threat.

“I’m going to need proof that you have one.” Victor laughed mockingly. Zemo’s eyes bore into you, as if he could see through the cloak, see you, see your panic. A portal opened and you both stepped through, feeling a rush of comfort as did Victor, the golden shield lowered. You managed to catch the knife Bucky threw after you, bouncing off your new coffee machine right before it reached Victor’s eye. An arrow embedded itself into your arm, following the same pattern only aiming to plunge itself into Victor’s other eye. Clearly a weak point. Without thinking you flung it straight into the same point and it rebounded, sending it straight back to where it came from. You wanted to glare at them, dare them to try again, but the fear of them would engulf you.

"Why do you love him?" Victor asked with a strained voice.

“He was upset.” The words fell from your mouth without thought, excusing his behaviour. Knowing what Zemo could be like, being the target of his wrath, even when you didn’t understand what you had done to deserve such treatment.

“That’s not an answer.”

You knew it wasn't an answer.

You couldn't answer.

There wasn't an answer.

Not anymore.

–

“The only advantage we have is that Victor cannot harm us.” Zemo said with a pleased expression. He did not know why, nor did he really need to understand why. It wasn’t a hard conclusion to come to. Victor took lives easily, recently Sharon Carter. Which the public were not fond of, then Victor released the files containing her betrayal. Double dealing under the table. Zemo knew she was the power broker, he just kept that to himself. Leverage. Someone on the other side, allies on both sides as he found himself now. Not that he ever left. Associates to exchange intel with, where necessary. Eliminating Victor would take extensive planning.

“Now we just have the impenetrable shield, magic, electricity to deal with.” Bucky sighed taking an unhealthy large gulp of the whiskey in his hand.

“And her.” Oeznik chimed in. Bucky and Zemo smirked, that wouldn’t be a problem. They would get you to cooperate, without question.

“Sunshine is merely confused.”

“Or she is the clearest she has ever been.”

“Old friend, I assure you, Sunshine is more than likely under Victor’s control, she-”

“Like she was under yours?” Oeznik scorned. Zemo stared at Oeznik wondering is he had the gumption to continue. “I know you will find a way to worm your way back in.” Ozenik looked at Zemo with pure disgust. “Agent Hill will be joining you, I took the liberty of informing her.” Ozenik smiled to himself, he took steps to ensure Zemo would have to be supervised. Knowing Zemo as he did, he knew Zemo would find you. “I would get to her before she finds your wife.” Ozenik paused drinking in the satisfaction of Mr Barnes' snarled face and Zemo’s ice cold glare. “Goodnight. Sir.”

–

Maria was finally out of that bed. Fury stayed to check she would be discharged, which was a few hours ago. Regeneration machines can’t perform surgery while you have internal bleeding. A few aches, but she was good to go, back into the field, to find you. She still couldn’t quite believe it. How? You would have to fill her in, she couldn’t wait to be there when you were reunited with Rebecca. Knowing who came through her door she didn’t even look up.

“I’ve already made a start.” She smiled wide, they knew who Dr Doom was, had endless files on him, she had them loaded on her laptop ready to review. As soon as she was out she could run facial recognition, further forensics on what happened when you gave birth.

“Can we run you through a hypothetical?” Bucky started and Zemo couldn’t quite believe his impertinence. Maria hummed happily as she collected her things. “We stole your regeneration machine to, er, heal injuries.”

Maria frowned. She was sure everyone had done that a few times. Besides you were accident prone, especially with those two around. Danger seemed to follow you, you didn’t need any more scars, she would have done the same.

“Injuries I inflicted.” Zemo said boldly. That got her attention. Turning to the two previous fugitives, eyes bouncing between them, feeling a wisp of despair wrap itself around her throat. “A suicide attempt to escape from me.” Zemo said rigidly.

“Maria you should sit down.” Bucky encouraged, hearing that dip in blood pressure, the pick up of her heart.

Listening to them recite details of what they had done, Maria tried to remain professional. She really did, but at some point silent tears started to fall when she recalled you asking her to leave. You tried to tell her and she was just so caught up with your pregnancy she shrugged it off. Put it down to your nightmares, or you having an off day, nerves from the tests. Remembering that you couldn’t open the door to your own home, she herself had put precautions in place, but she wanted you safe, she wasn’t like them, she wasn’t. “Why?”

“To protect her. You know what she is like, she probably would have given Hydra a second chance. Easy to manipulate, we had to make sure no one could do that to her and we were right! Dr Doom-”

“I swore she would never go back to Hydra.” Maria sniffed.

“Maria I assure you-”

“You are the same. It’s the same! Living in fear.” Maria strengthened her voice.

“If you have seen what we have, you would have done the same thing.” Bucky reasoned being a victim of Hydra himself.

Maria told them everything she could about your past. Everything, instead of practising caution, they used it to torment you. They knew the things you saw and used it all against you. They weren't even sorry, they didn't care. Maria stood, collecting only her phone, her other belongings wouldn’t exactly be a loss. Maria walked straight through the door, not even sparing them a glance.“I need you both to help find her, then you are both going back to jail.”

Next Part: https://www.tumblr.com/zemossunshine/702620516382605312/sunshine-chapter-42?source=share

[frontproofmedia]

Press Conference Notes & Photos: Artur Beterbiev & Anthony Yarde Ready for Wembley Showdown

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Published: January 26, 2023

Beterbiev vs. Yarde goes down SATURDAY (3:30 p.m. ET/12:30 p.m. PT) at OVO Arena Wembley LIVE & EXCLUSIVELY on ESPN+

LONDON (Jan. 26, 2023) — WBC/WBO/IBF unified light heavyweight champion Artur Beterbiev (18-0, 18 KOs) talks with his fists more than his mouth. Boxing's only world champion with a 100 percent knockout rate is on enemy turf as he prepares to defend his collection of belts against British puncher Anthony Yarde (23-2, 22 KOs) on Saturday at OVO Arena Wembley in London. Yarde is the far more loquacious of the fighters, but there was a shared respect between the two combatants at Thursday's press conference. Beterbiev and Yarde did have an intense staredown, but it was all business two days before fight night. Beterbiev-Yarde and undercard bouts will stream live and exclusively in the U.S. on ESPN+ at 3:30 p.m. ET/12:30 p.m. PT. This is what Beterbiev, Yarde and Top Rank chairman Bob Arum had to say. Artur Beterbiev "In our camp, we always try to be ready for different scenarios. If it's a tough fight, we're going to be ready." "I feel good. I hope on January 28 I will change a little bit (to turn into a monster). I said he looks like a bodybuilder because of his muscles. I don't have this muscle and I didn't say it to mean anything bad. I said it because he looks strong!" Anthony Yarde "Everyone knows the type of character I am. I'm very calm. I jump at opportunities, and again, you go thorough certain things in your journey to strengthen you. You go through certain things in your journey to prepare you as well. So, that's why I keep saying I'm so excited." "I'm happy to be alive, happy to be at this stage of my life as well. Being an underdog, over-dog middle dog... it don't matter to me. I'm a dog! When I get in the ring and I start throwing my hands about, everyone knows what I can do. If you want to say it does anything to me, it gives me that little push, that little urge. But, again, it's expected. I don't lie or bullsh*t anybody. He's got 18 fights, 18 wins, {100 percent} knockout ratio, Olympian. He's done a lot in the sport, and that's why he should be respected. I've respected him this far. As I said before, when we get in the ring, surely he will be saying the same thing. There's no respect in the ring when you try and take the respect away from your opponent."   "Three belts, legacy and history. I'm happy it's Beterbiev. This scary person. I'm happy that it's three belts. It just makes it all that much better. It's gonna feel like it's earned. It's not no easy way out. There's a lot of fighters that get a mandatory world title, or they get someone that they're meant to beat, they're the a-side, etc. I like this route. This route gives me the goosebumps, the good feeling. It's the journey. The journey is what makes me happy." Bob Arum "I think, pound for pound, the biggest puncher in boxing today is the guy on my right who has knocked out every opponent that has been put in front of him, not because he isn't a very good boxer — because he is a very good boxer — but he also has that magic that you can't really train a fighter for. It's instinctive, the ability to punch and knock out an opponent. So, I'm very happy to be here. I know Anthony Yarde, I've followed him. He's a terrific fighter, also with a big punch. He's a very, very exciting type of fighter." Marc Ramsay (Beterbiev's Trainer) "We've known {about} Anthony Yarde for a long time. I look at all the light heavyweights from their beginning until they reach the level of my fighter. I know he's a good fighter, a complete fighter. He's fast, he's powerful, he can box, he can counterpunch. But we get ready for all of those elements in the training camp. We have a very productive training camp. We reached every single objective that we faced before the training camp. No excuse, no injury, no nothing. We're just ready to perform and give the fans what they want to see." "I know everyone wants to talk about {Beterbiev's perfect KO rate} and has questions about this, but this is really not the focus we have as a team. We work with Artur to get ready to fight the best way we can. Power is power. Power is there, but that is not the main objective for us. We don't put the focus on that."

(Featured Photo: (C/O: Queensberry Promotions)

[cro0kedme]

Titans and the idiot human that woke them up

A/N: Ahhahahaha sorry for taking longer than I meant to, this was supposed to be out days ago but school and some writer’s block decided to team up to try and stop me.

They didn’t win, but they tried.

Anyways @icedmetaltea gave me a bunch of brainrot with their titan Eclipse and the end result is this. ALSO there wasn’t much to go on for this au so I kinda just made up shit and if you don’t like it then I’m not sorry >:)

Okay I’m done talking now so onto the actual summary/fic 

Summary: As a traveler and someone with too much curiosity for their own good you often find yourself in creepy and/or weird situations but this by far is the scariest and weirdest. When you went in that forest you thought the worst that would happen was maybe a wild animal attacking you or something, but no. Instead you accidently wake up a giant war machine that has most likely killed hundreds- if not thousands.

And for some reason, this one seems to really like you.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓  ༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓  ༓･*˚⁺‧ ☾   ‧͙⁺˚*･༓  ༓･*˚⁺‧   ☽ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓  ༓･*˚⁺‧     

Hundreds of years ago, a war broke out. 

A brilliant yet insane man had built the first ever titan. The Titans were massive animatronics designed almost entirely for combat. The man had once been sane, but time had taken its toll, and he, like his father and father before him, had gone insane.

He took the titans he had built and used them to kill whoever stood in his way. The man had wanted to find the secret to immortality through any means necessary. Many tried to stop him, and many failed. The titans the man had built were completely loyal to him, and if the man wanted someone dead, the titans would make sure they died.

A rebellion started in a small corner of the world. They’d managed to build their own titans. A new Freddy and Chica, as well as two completely new titan’s they’d called Montgomery and Roxanne.

The rebellion was growing quickly and in secret until the day they had enough resources to fight back against the man—the tyrant.

The titans battled, but the man’s own ‘loyal’ titans turned on him. Together, everyone made sure the man died and stayed dead. The man’s titans soon ended up ‘dead’ with him. The titans the man had built were still violent and bloodthirsty, even if the man who’d caused their suffering had died.

The four titans that the rebellion made were the only ones left standing in the end.

But that was hundreds of years ago. Now those titans are hidden somewhere only a select few know about. Nowadays, people hardly ever talk about those titans, or titans in general. This includes yourself. You were focused on more important things, such as the important decision you were about to make right now.

"It’s literally a stuffed bear." Your friend, Vanessa, said to you in a deadpan voice.

You, though, were looking at the two identical teddy bears that you found at the store, with one already in your hand and the other still on the shelf staring back into your soul. You looked away from the bear’s eyes. Despite it not being alive, it still made you question your morality.

"But, Vanessa, if I take one of these bears, I have to get the other. I can’t separate them like that. They’ve bonded in the time they’ve sat on this shelf together. I’d be a monster to take one and not the other." You argue, staring intently at the teddy bear in your hands.

"They don’t even breathe." Vanessa points out, looking more tired than when she entered this store. You don’t answer, staring at the teddy bear in your hand again, then looking back over to the one still on the shelf.

You hear Vanessa huff and as you turn around to face her, she snatches the bear out of your hands and throws it into the cart. You stood in silence when you saw Vanessa start walking away with the cart.

You looked over at the teddy bear and whispered, "I’m sorry." To it and run after your friend. Vanessa was already at the cash register and checking out by the time you caught up to her.

"So, you going to tell me why you’re leaving after this?" Vanessa asks, and you shake your head with a large grin. "Nope!" You exclaim, but Vanessa only hums noncomintentally in response. It brings a frown to your face immediately. She’s usually much more fun, but these past few months she’s seemed so sad.

There wasn’t much Vannessa bought, so it didn’t take long for her to check out and leave the store with you behind her.

However, as you were leaving, Vanessa abruptly stopped, causing you to panic a little, and you tried to stop yourself as well, before you hit her or anything else. Vanessa turned around to face you. Her eyes were still dull and the frown she seemed to wear exclusively was still stuck on her face.

Though you weren’t expecting anything else. You’re going on this trip to hopefully change that expression, even if only for a few moments. Vanessa hasn’t smiled in way too long, so you were going to get her a gift.

You feel like she wouldn’t care about it.

"You’re really leaving, huh?" Vanessa says, and you nod, forcing a small smile. Vanessa sighed and tossed over some of the food she’d bought. You (just barely) caught it and looked back up at your friend.

"Make sure not to die." Was all she said before turning around again and walking off. You grinned and waved at her even if she couldn’t see it. "Thanks, Vanessa!" You exclaimed. 

Vanessa didn’t even grace you with a response.

You don’t mind too much though, putting the food in your satchel where you also put the teddy bear you got in.

You turned away from Vanessa, walking away from the market full of color and machinery, out of the city full of life and lush plants, and after you were outside the city walls, you were immediately hit with dark brown colors; the sky isn’t bright, and the animals are all gone.

What many in the country—perhaps the whole world—didn’t know is that outside their walls is a broken, dirty, and dead area. It's all that's left of Earth, besides where they live, anyway.

You wouldn’t burst their bubble. You know firsthand that ignorance is bliss. They don’t need to know that the world outside their walls is nearly all dead. It was depressing to see, but you'd grown accustomed to the dry colors and perpetually overcast skies as a traveler.

You tried to grow something outside those walls before, but it never worked. All the plants died before even a week hit. You think the problem was the soil itself. You don’t know what happened to make it like that, and you likely never will, but you also don’t care about that too much.

You start walking on the path you have taken many times before. You usually go on a straight path, taking a few turns here and there, but today you were doing something different.

Outside the walls, there were old, old buildings and battlegrounds. They were usually empty, most of the good stuff, or any stuff, really, already taken by the few others who ventured out here, but sometimes you'd find a secret passageway or a key to a door, and you'd find something cool in there.

You could find any number of things in those rooms: money, treasure (dead human remains), artifacts, and other priceless items. But what you always went after were the journals and books.

There was always a morbid curiosity that you felt when you found someone's last words. You've seen tech there and tried messing with what was left behind to see if someone wrote anything in there, but most of the tech you'd find in the rotting buildings was outdated and you weren't sure how to use it without breaking it—if it wasn't already broken, that is.

Anyway, back to your little mission. A while ago, you remember that while on a delivery run, you got sidetracked and found something you definitely weren’t supposed to, but it led you to find something you'd never thought you'd see again outside any walls.

Green.

That may seem silly and insignificant, but green means growing, as in actual plants and anything alive.

Green grass, green trees, colorful flowers, green bushes, actual wild animals—there was so much there. You wanted to go in so badly but instead mentally marked it and left soon after, not wanting to get caught up in something else just yet. You weren’t quite ready to explore that area yet, already busy trying to clean up your other messes. 

But that was pretty recent, and you hadn’t had any deliveries or jobs you needed to perform outside the walls after that so you had no real excuse to leave, but now that you were searching for a gift for Vanessa, you finally found a reason to actually leave and not waste your resources completely.

As you walk up to the forest, you feel nervous. and excited. This is new, uncharted territory completely. You almost turned around, the unknown of the forest giving you enough creeps to leave, but you stepped forward anyway. The complete unknown is something you don't like and want to avoid, but you refuse to leave this forest alone. You need to go into a real forest—just once, at least.

So you take a step in. Then another. And another, and it's... fine. Peaceful, even. You feel your eyes widen as you hear birds chirping, they sound so pretty. The grass is soft, and it doesn't feel rough and dusty like the soil everywhere else does. The rushing water from a river nearby makes you feel at completely calm for once. It makes you smile. It makes you feel alive.

But more than anything, it makes you stay still and just listen for once. to let you stop moving for a little while. Because in this world you live in, travelers are always fighting to survive. Just barely tolerated inside country walls and with their only real 'home' being the post-apocalyptic earth on the outside, it was hard to just sit down and be in the moment.

You finally could now.

You sit down on the grass and close your eyes. You'd never heard all these sounds together at the same time. It's usually automated in the city, and the truly alive plants are far and few in between. Seeing all of them together makes you feel...

At home.

You smile at the thought. Yeah, home. That sounds nice. Maybe, someday, somehow you can make this place your home... away from the stress of the robots and dust filling your lungs, away from the yelling crowds, and away from the glares and suspicious glances you'd grown used to.

Before you could dream any longer, you heard thunder crackling and looked up, seeing dark clouds above you. darker than what you're used to.

"When did..." you trailed off but got up soon after, not bothering with finishing your own sentence. It's going to rain, you can tell, so you need to start looking for some kind of shelter.

You weren't very lucky in your search.

When the rain started, it was just a drizzle, and you still hadn't found cover at the time, but in just a few minutes, it was pouring. The rain drops hitting your cape made you more and more cold.

You continued to run in the now dark, muddy forest. Where were you running to? You don't know, you just hope you'll get lucky and find something to duck under sometime soon.

Trudging through the forest, you try to watch your step, but it gets difficult when all the previously dry grass turns wet and makes it difficult to walk on. Plus all the roots, rocks, and sticks scattered around that you've already almost tripped over a few times didn't exactly make it easier. You even heard thunder- you hardly even hear thunder inside the walls, and up until now you’d never even heard it outside those walls!

Well, you never felt natural rain at all before, so maybe that was normal? Like you said before, everything else on earth was dry and dead. All the water is now exclusively in mankind’s hands. You’d never seen rain outside.

Well, you guess you can mark that off your bucket list now. Unfortunately, it was raining heavily. It sounded soothing, but you didn't want to catch a cold or something. Especially because you don't know what's ahead of you. You’d rather not get sick in an unknown area in the wild, thank you very much.

So you keep running, hoping this isn’t a fruitless endeavor. Is there even any type of shelter in forests? There are probably caves or something, but you’d read about how wildlife was in the, well, wild. And spoiler alert, they were aggressive and wouldn’t hesitate to end you!

Until now, you thought all wildlife had been captured by humans. They kind of had to take all the animals, if they hadn’t then the animals would all certainly die in the wasteland that was earth. So, while the wildlife did not become domestic in the traditional sense, they all had man-made habits that mimicked forests and their homes, so humans came in every now and then to make sure the habitat stayed clean. They'd somewhat gotten used to humans so they did not attack on sight anymore, which you think is a good thing.

You're shaken out of your thoughts when you notice something familiar. Looking back over to what you’d seen, your eyes widened upon realizing that you'd found a house. Many, in fact. It had to be at least a town.

Woo! It looks like you were finding somewhere to stay after all! You made your way to the town slowly but steadily, the wind and rain making it harder to move forward, but you managed.

Making it to the buildings you saw, you took a second to marvel at them. You'd never seen architecture like this before. Even when you were exploring older cities and towns, this place looked different. Not on an extreme level, but enough to be noticable.

There were no roads, or if there were, they were way too faint for you to see. This place looked… worse. Yet better? It was less advanced than the other towns you’d seen, but somehow still more intact than the others.

Although, just like every other place you'd visited, it was a ghost town. You weren't really surprised by this; it always is. In your many years of life and urban exploring, you don't think you've ever seen another living soul while outside any walls.

The buildings around you were broken down, but that was obvious from the second you saw it. However, these buildings look older than what you're used to, and it seems like they're hardly standing up even now. You hope it could withstand this weather, but if it's lasted this long, it's probably fine.

The house you saw first had no roof. You assumed it had caved in, so you tried your luck with the other buildings, and you unfortunately weren't that surprised to see almost every building around you was unsuitable for staying in. Either the roof had caved in, the building itself was too unstable, or a mix of both.

It made you a bit frustrated, it felt as if whatever God may exist was taunting you. Like they were watching in amusement as you tried to find somewhere to stay but had no luck. As you continued to make your way through the old town, you hoped none of these buildings had anything else alive in them. As you continued, nearly tripping over debris on the ground.

It felt like as if this was only the beginning of your bad luck.

You entered another house, and you were getting a bit desperate because you were nearly out of houses to enter. You walked around the dusty and overgrown house, looking from room to broken room. You checked all the places you could; any other rooms in the house were blocked off from the cracked and nearly demolished floors and walls.

You found nothing you could use. Again.

You took a deep breath, willing the nerves to leave you, and took another look at the house.

Walking along the building again, you saw something a bit uneven with one of the walls. A brick that was out of place. Rationally, you know that the brick that’s just slightly out of place probably means nothing, but you may as well try. You seemed to notice that your ancestor’s seemed to like secret rooms so mayyyybe there was something?

You moved over to it and pushed it back where it needed to be. The bricks felt as scratchy and uneven as they always do. You heard something moving almost immediately after, and were extremely relieved to find that a secret wall opened up to what seemed like a safe room or something.

You breathed a sigh of relief and went inside, taking off your cloak, which was now soaking wet, and shook off as much rain and water as you could. It didn't do much, but at least you tried.

You set your cloak down on the floor and then opened your satchel. It was pretty dark in here, so you were going to get your flashlight from inside your bag so you could actually see what was in front of you.

With how many things are in your satchel, it took a while to actually find the flashlight, you found a bunch of stuff you’d forgotten about entirely during the search which was cool but not helpful. After a few minutes, though, you found it and took it out of your satchel proudly. You hit the button to turn it on and were glad to see that it still worked.

Looking around, the room itself wasn't that large; it was honestly a bit underwhelming. However, you did find some, um, interesting things. The many human remains here, in particular. There were more in this single room than you'd seen on a battleground. The hell happened here?

You've seen dead bodies (usually just skulls because the rest of the body had decayed) in abandoned places before, it's impossible not to see at least a few, but in this day and age it’s rare to see a single human remain in any place, and if you do, it was always small, like a bone or something. But here? There are at least sixteen of them.

And the remains certainly weren’t small.

"What the fuck…" you whispered to yourself and then jumped when you heard another strike of thunder in the sky.

You're not usually this jumpy... you guess all the unknowns of this situation are scaring you right now. 'It's fine. I'll be okay.' You told yourself, despite the way you shook, even though you weren't that cold anymore.

Sighing, you step around the room again to see if you can find anything here. You weren’t paying that much attention to anything in here because your thoughts kept drifting to the many people who had died here (or at least had their bodies dumped in here), but it's finne you totally weren't worried about dying here either. It's so okay with you. In fact, you’ve never been more okay.

You knew you were lying to yourself, but hey, when times get hard sometimes denial is all we have. Following that, you shined your flashlight near a human skull and discovered a notebook next to it. Because of course you did.

You kneeled down and picked up the book, trying to brush off some of the many specks of dust on it before opening it.

The book was written in older English. That's the first thing you noticed. Now, while older English wasn't too difficult to understand, some of the words were lost on you. It'd probably be fine, though.

So you started to read the journal despite feeling like you were making some kind of mistake. This book probably wasn’t cursed. Probably...

At first, the journal was just... normal. Mildy unnerving but In your experience, you've learned that most handwritten journals are unnerving, even the completely normal ones. However, this one feels more foreboding than the others. That's probably not a good sign.

You continued to read it anyway.

It detailed their small town, and you think it was more of a diary than anything. You saw the author talking about things like their friends doing something dumb, their crushes doing something cute, their annoyance at having to babysit their younger siblings, but it quickly took a dark turn.

The date was September 23rd, 3001, and the author said how they and whoever else they could find were shoved into this small safe room. A titan was here, and it was bloodthirsty. That made you do a double take because, first of all, what?

Even back then, titans were almost never seen by civilians. Despite how giant they are, they’re almost only used for fighting. Civilian’s are usually kept as far away from the battle as they can be, how’d they know this was a titan?

Well, titan’s were talked about a lot more back then than they were now, so maybe it wasn’t that farfetched? 

It was terrifying to read, either way. The clearly still teenage author slowly became more and more insane from staying in the safe room for so long; the other people stuck in the room with them became aggressive as well because of the lack of sunlight, food, and water.

The author said that they, as well as the other three people with them that had survived so far, heard fighting outside for hours. It was loud. They said it could only be titans' fighting. You wonder how they knew that.

Was it normal to hear titan’s fighting?

The author said that it eventually went silent, all was quiet and they wanted to see if it was safe to leave, but they were already at death’s door, hardly able to write, much less get up. But you could figure that out because of how faint and shaky the writing was alone.

And after that entry? There was nothing else. Just empty pages. Something about this person's last words in particular made you feel sick. You usually aren’t so bothered by these things but this one made you feel nervous. Not exactly scared, more like the feeling of knowing something is out there and you’re just waiting for it to pop out.

Not to mention the titan’s the author wrote about made you a bit worried as well. You saw those other two titan’s not that far away from here, were those the two that were fighting? Or was it someone else? If it was, are they still here? 

Were they still alive?

You shook your head, attempting to reason with yourself. The author was literally on the verge of death and also severely deprived of basic human needs. They had to have been hallucinating vividly. For all you know, the author could have made up everything.

Even with these thoughts, your hand still shook when you slowly closed the book. The rain and thunder coming from outside did not help your nerves. Even after you closed the journal, you just stared at it for a few minutes more, your thoughts seemingly having halted completely somehow.

You eventually stirred out of it and put the journal in your satchel along with your flashlight, then stood up, grabbing your cloak.

Usually you wouldn’t leave whatever shelter you’d found if the weather was bad enough, especially if it was natural rain, which you hadn’t seen until today, especially especially if that rain was falling down so hard and with winds strong enough that the raindrops literally hurt when they hit your body, but you don’t think you can stand spending another second in this room or in this town.

Your gut was telling you to leave, and it was telling you to do it now. And who are you to deny that request?

After putting on your cloak, you take a deep breath and leave the safe room, not appreciating the current weather. You needed to get out of this little town first. It was a hazard to be in abandoned places when the weather was nice, but now you were afraid something would fall off something and hit you. So you ran as quickly as you could out of the town.

It was a bit harder to see now, and it didn’t really make your situation much better. Hearing trees fall and the absolute silence of the animals wasn’t helping either. You were trying to leave the forest just by remembering the path you took before, but you weren’t having that much luck with it just like everything else in this forest. Even if you found the place you were before, more often than not there was a new obstacle blocking it.

You weren’t amused.

You also weren’t surprised when you got lost. You never really went into any forests, and the trees all looked so similar. You felt like you were going in circles, and maybe you were. You felt like crying. This was a bit too scary for your tastes...

However, after a while of running around in the forest, you found an empty field.

A battlefield, your mind quickly supplied. It seemed to be a large one as well. Ah, well, inspecting battlefield’s wasn’t exactly your top priority at the moment, so you went across the empty field, a bit happy that you could see slightly better since there was nothing blocking your vision.

It didn’t take long for you to find out that it wasn’t as empty as you originally thought,

You heard it before you saw it. How could you not? You’d notice the sound of machinery whirring to life in a heartbeat with how much you’d heard it inside the walls. Looking over to the direction of the noise, you saw something rising.

And you could immediately tell that this thing was massive... and run-down. That one’s not exactly surprising, though.

You could see it slowly rising higher and higher and higher. And it was undoubtedly a titan. But you’d seen titans before, dead ones, but you’d seen them before. This titan had to be at least twice the other titan’s height.

You also noticed ribbon’s on its arms—familiar ones at that. While the color had faded out, it was undoubtedly blue and yellow—different designs, but you’d seen them before. On the two other dead titans you came across,

The two things that unintentionally helped you find the forest.

Man, what is up with you and finding titan’s? 

You then looked up at the titan, now staring at its face, and saw one of its eyelights turn on. staring right at you.

You flinched back, your brain finally reminding you that, haha, oh yeah, this thing can totally kill you. And if the author of that diary wasn’t just hallucinating and there were titans fighting, who’s to say this one isn’t the big bad killing one?

Well, you didn’t want to stick around to find out, so you turned around to try and lose it in the maze of trees you’d already gotten lost in once. You knew it was moving, you could hear the machinery in it starting up again affter who knows how long. It was too dark to see much of anything, though, and you weren’t looking behind you, which is where the titan was.

You were too scared to turn around. Especially because you were more focused on trying to be silent, trying to be quick, and trying your best to ignore how you could hear your own heartbeat quite loudly. Was it loud enough for the titan to hear as well? Maybe the rain blocked the sound a bit.

You don’t know and you don't feel like you should try to figure it out, so you continued to run.

You knew you were running for a while. You’re not sure how long, but it was a while. You were running out of breath and never stopped hearing the titan. You think the scariest part of all this was that it never spoke. All you could hear was them slowly ‘waking up’ again.

Why did you think going into the first real forest you’d ever seen was a good idea again?

After a while you finally stopped hearing the titan. You weren’t sure if it was a bad thing or a good thing. Although, given that not even ten seconds later you were picked up by the titan you have to guess it was a bad thing.

You’re not even sure where the hand had come from or how it got there so fast—one second you were on the ground and the next you were standing on a titan’s palm.

You understandably panicked more once you were picked up, especially because of how high you were now. Looking up at the titan’s face again, you can see it a bit better now. The right side of its teeth looked like someone had punched them out. The titan had the same type of sun rays that the other yellow titan had, except this one had many more and the color was a dark red with only a few yellow ones on it—and even so, those yellow ones were dark and washed out.

The rest of the titan was painted dark red, and only one eye light was working. The titan was broken, cracked, and a few small chunks of it were completely gone.

broken, but you doubt it was any less powerful.

As if on cue, you saw lightning strike and thunder roar just seconds after.

"So my savior is... a human? Such a tiny thing…" The Titan said, looking at you curiously.

‘Hahah… this is what I get for exploring weird forests and old towns. Ahahahaha… Yeah, I’m literally about to die.’ You think to yourself, your breathing becoming a bit erratic. It was kind of poetic in a dark way. Think about it. It's raining. You just found a dead person’s diary that may or may not have been talking about the titan in front of you, and now you’ve woken said titan up, which was going to kill you.

You choked out a sob when you finally laid it out in front of yourself like that. You were going to die. Your story ended here, and you probably were going to unintentionally kill hundreds of thousands of more people since you woke up this murderous titan. 

You wonder if those old titans used in that war hundreds of years ago were still alive. You wonder if they could stop this titan in front of you.

You then felt the titan start to move their hands closer to you and you just assumed they’d crush you to death or something, which only made you sob more, your breathing getting more erratic than before, but what they actually did made you confused enough to make you forget about your raging fear for a second.

The titan simply… held you in their hand. It wasn’t even that painful, almost like it was trying to be gentle. Well, as gentle as a titan made for killing others can be, anyway.

They... even started petting your hair with one of their fingers??

"Thank you, little thing. As payment, I’ll keep you safe and sound as I resume my effort to remove the blight on earth that is mankind... Save for you, of course." It said, their voice low but still loud. It was terrifying and you didn’t think just a voice could be intimidating enough to make your heart rate pick up somehow even more but you learn something new everyday, you guess.  

and despite your fear which was now mixing with your confusion, you were trying to even comprehend what this thing was saying. So, you were right about it being a mass murderer... But it at least wasn’t going to kill you?

You then threw that thought away. As if. Maybe the titan would just keep you alive slightly longer than the others since you woke it up. Even if that wasn’t the case you are confident that they’d kill you eventually, the titan specifically stated how much it hates mankind. 

You’re going to die by this thing eventually, you know you will. Even if this titan was serious about not wanting to kill you, it’s only a matter of time before you accidentally make it mad and it’ll kill you because of it. 

So why’s this titan even entertaining the idea that it will spare you? Is it just to mess with you? 

God, could this get any worse?

"In fact… You’re so small and cute, I think I’ll keep you. I have so much work to do, new friend, and you’ll have a front-row seat~" The Titan said... affectionately?

You tried to even out your breathing again, you just had to go and jinx yourself, didn’t you? What’s this titan even talking about? Because they’re kind of giving you mixed signal’s here with their ‘I want to kill all of humanity’ to ‘But you’re cool even if I just met you’ thing.

You don’t think trusting a giant titan that literally just admitted to wanting to kill every human on this planet was a good idea, but it still hasn’t killed you yet, if that’s even worth anything.

Though, you have a feeling that if you manage to live past today your future is going to be full of a lot of death and a lot more headaches because of this titan who still seems pretty content to just hold you while messing up your hair even more than it already has. 

Well, at least you’ll have a great story to tell your friends if you survive. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓  ༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓  ༓･*˚⁺‧ ☾   ‧͙⁺˚*･༓  ༓･*˚⁺‧   ☽ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓  ༓･*˚⁺‧   ‧͙⁺˚*･༓  

A/n (again): 

Me: I should write about the Eclipse and reader actually interacting

Also me: Write about how reader and Eclipse even met and have the last, like, ten paragraphs about Eclipse and reader

Anyways on a more serious note thanks for reading and I hope this was at least a mildly enjoyable fic. I don’t know if I’ll write a second part of this with reader and Eclipse actually interacting for more than three seconds this time! (and mayyybe sun and/or moon too) but who knows we’ll see how I feel later. 

And one last thing, this blog is almost entirely a reblog blog and this is one of the, like, twelve posts I’ve made out of like 100k reblogs so don’t look for anymore fic content here-

I have an ao3 where I write other stuff so if you’re really deprived of my totally awesome amazing fic content I’m CrookedMe on ao3 so go crazy I guess lmao.

Alright I think that’s it. Later losers (affectionate) 

[wardenparker]

You’re So Vain - Chapter 12

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Oscar winning star Dieter Bravo’s reputation is suffering after the debacle of “Cliff Beasts 6″ and “Beasts of the Bubble”, so his management team has signed him on to a publicity stunt to find his soulmate and show the world a softer side of the erratic and unpredictable star. The plan quickly go awry, though, when Dieter’s soulmate wants nothing to do with him.  

Rating: Explicit for drug use Word Count: 12.6k Warnings: *Blanket warning for chronic illness, cursing, and deceased family members. This is a Dieter fic, folks, so there absolutely will be discussions of drugs, drug use, and addiction.* Enemies to lovers, food/alcohol consumption, discussion of deceased spouse, accidental drug use, misuse of prescription drugs, PTSD, pregnancy scare,  I have a lot of feelings about this chapter okay? Summary: The day Steph and Nora go back to the States, you have a gigantic migraine. But the fallout from trying to take care of it is worse than you could have ever expected. Notes: ✨ NOTES CONTAIN SPOILERS. CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED.  ✨ This chapter contains accidental drug use in the form of mistaking pills for something else (mislabeled bottle). The drug in question is ketamine, and reader’s reaction to it is based solely on my own personal knowledge of the drug as well as some basic research. Not everyone is affected the same way by taking this or any other drug, so this portrayal may not be exactly on the nose for what some others have experienced. 

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

It takes a little while to pump Steph full of enough caffeine to combat jet lag the next morning, but the four of you arrive at the studio right on time. Dieter hustles off to his dressing room after a round of hugs from everyone and a quick kiss from you, and you pop your head into the director’s office to make sure that the portraits you’ve done for the movie are exactly what they need. After that it’s a guided studio tour and you’re settling down in the cafe with lunch before you know it. Having Steph and Nora here is even more magical and surreal than when you first got here yourself, and you want to make sure they enjoy every second.

“Honestly? I’ve never seen you this happy.” Steph leans back in her seat and looks over at where Nora is coloring in the book that her Uncle DeeDee had managed to get from someone on set. “So things are going a lot better than you texted, huh?”

“Things are…they’re kind of amazing, honestly. And I’m so afraid of jinxing it by saying that out loud.” The abundant charcuterie platter that you and Steph chose to share for lunch sits between you as you both pick at it eagerly. “I mean, I hope it’s not just a vacation fluke and things are still this good when we’re both busy and not sharing a room.” You can’t be more graphic than that with Nora two feet away, but Steph knows what you mean.

Smirking, Steph flutters her lashes at you playfully, making you giggle. “Oh honey, you’ve been getting it good, haven’t you?” She asks, wanting details. “Everyday?”

“Um…usually more than once…” You admit quietly, feeling your whole face set on fire. “It’s the honeymoon phase, ya know?”

“Interesting words.” Steph hums, picking up her wine glass. “Especially when you’re describing the relationship that you have with your soulmate. He’s – you two have really gotten in sync, haven’t you?”

“I didn’t mean literal honeymoon.” No, the implications of that are just a little too much for you to take right now. But you do sigh s little and shrug your sore shoulder. “I…I don’t know if he’s feeling what I’m feeling. But I know that we’re talking and we’re doing our best to be honest with each other, and it’s helped a lot.”

“That’s great.” Steph sets her glass down after a sip and leans in, touching your hand. “I’m really happy that the two of you are getting to know each other. And that it seems like – well, it seems like it’s going better than anyone could have expected.” You had even stayed with Dieter last night, instead of escaping to their room like you would have done if you had been miserable.

“I think it’s safe to say that I feel completely the opposite of how I did when we met.” That is the understatement of the century as far as you’re concerned, but here you are.

Steph’s brow furrows for a moment until a look of understanding crosses her face. “Have you talked about it?” She asks, knowing that it’s a very big deal for you.

“No.” You shake your head, building yourself another bite of food and grateful that Nora is happily distracted with her coloring. “I was actually hoping to talk to you about it first…you know me better than anyone.”

“When did you realize you love him?” She shoots Nora a glance and then looks back at you.

Love. For such a little word, it has such a huge impact - making your pulse jump and your throat run dry and your stomach flip with excitement and nerves. “Yesterday for certain.”

“You are sure it’s not just a reaction to him being so sweet on your birthday?” As much as she had pushed you to get to know Dieter, she doesn’t want you hurt. Talking about this will help you work through the jumble of emotions she knows is mixed up inside you.

“I think it just…solidified it? But this is why I need to talk to you.” Reaching over, you grasp her hands tightly for just a second and blow out a sigh. “He’s been…kind of incredible. The whole time, I mean.”

“Yeah?” She bites her lip to keep from grinning, instead she squeezes your hand and encourages you to talk. “Tell me.”

“The physical part is ridiculous.” You’re not really going to elaborate on that with Nora nearby – or anyone for that matter. Anyone who knows you would know you’re talking about Dieter and that could end up on gossip sites. If Steph wants the dirty details, you’ll tell her later, in private. “But it’s like…when we actually shut off the snark around each other? He’s so sweet and surprisingly attentive. I mean, I know I probably sound like I did when I was sixteen, but the man literally offered to bankroll the start of my own business so I can teach art privately and get away from all the insane bureaucracy of school curriculums, then turned around and got his director to agree to let me paint the incredibly plot important portraits for the movie he’s filming.”

“Wow.” Steph hadn’t realized that all of this was going on. You had been texting, but it had been surface level things. “How’s his – you know, the addiction issue?” You had been terrified about that. It had been one of your biggest fears.

“He takes daily tests as part of his contract.” You take a sip of your tea and shift in your seat so you can be closer to her and therefore talk a little more quietly. “We do drink, but he’s been clean of everything else since we met.” A fact which you know agitates him at times, but he hasn’t fought against it. As much as he might struggle at times, Dieter has actually told you that he wants to stay clean. “He’s never snuck anything or faked a test or anything like that. I think…I think maybe the endorphin rush from… intimacy,” you mumble the word under your breath, “might be kind of a substitute sometimes? But shoot, that’s physical exercise. It’s about the healthiest way to get endorphins ever.”

“That’s a good thing.” She gives a small giggle and waggles her eyebrows at you. “Exercise is a great thing.”

Chewing on your lip for a second, you still end up smiling despite the nervous knot in your stomach. “I’m gonna take him to San Fran. To meet my parents. Once he’s done filming here.”

“Babe…” Steph nearly gasps, knowing that is a big deal. “That’s – wow.”

“When they called yesterday, they asked when they were going to get to meet him and invited us to come stay for a weekend. And he just…” It’s still kind of unbelievable to you that he said yes, if you’re honest. “He asked if I wanted him to meet them. I was honest and said yes, but I told him we could put it off for a while, thinking we might get roped into Thanksgiving or something, ya know? But he just agreed right away and said we could do it when he gets back.”

“Do you think that he’s falling for you?” Her question is gentle, but she wants to know where you think this is going. “I mean, the tattoo, meeting your parents, the business offer…” She trails off, but she gives a small shrug. “I don’t think he would do that for just anyone.”

“I don’t know.” You shake your head, letting it drop into one upturned palm as you rest your elbow on the table. “It feels like I’ve known him forever sometimes, but then I’m the same breath I realize we’ve only really known each other for what…a little more than two weeks?” The Disney trip is when you started working at getting along, and that has become your benchmark for the positive direction of your relationship with Dieter, even if there was a hiccup along the way. “I mean obviously I hope he’s not doing all of this out of some kind of obligation because we’re soulmates, but I just can’t say for sure. I—I’ve made too many assumptions about him over the years. I can’t let this be another one.”

She can’t help but give a little groan and slightly amused chuckle. “Of course now we aren’t assuming.” She teases you as only your best friend can, and she knows it. “Are you planning on telling him?”

“I’m actively trying to be better,” you remind her, cheeks on fire at the reminder of just how much assuming you had done not that long ago. “But I am genuinely afraid that saying something could upset the delicate balance that we have going. It might be pushing way too hard and I don’t want to do that to him.”

Nodding in understanding, Steph vows that she’s going to keep her opinions to herself. Or at least not try to push you into anything. This needs to be on your own time. “Taking it slow is never a bad thing.” She offers. “If he does feel the same way…” she grins at you playfully, “I get to tell you I told you so.”

“I would never take that from you.” After all, she would be right, if Dieter ever did return your feelings. “But I can’t see getting my hopes up.”

She snickers and looks around the café. “Because people who aren’t in love don’t fly out their soulmate’s best friend and niece to make sure she has the best day ever on her birthday.” She reminds you. “You didn’t cry once yesterday, did you?”

“I cried at the museum.” Which was a very different type of tears from the way you had spent the last several birthdays, you’ll admit.

“In rare fashion, I’m not going to push.” Steph declares with a laugh. “But I’m happy that you’re happy.” She bites her lip. “I haven’t seen you this happy since before college.”

“I—I don’t think…” you sigh, knowing how fucking sappy and ridiculous you sound. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy, Stephy. Like I hate that I have to leave a week before he does to get back to work. It’s ridiculous.”

“That business offer he made you?” Curiosity is getting the best of her, and she has to know. “What was that?”

“He thinks I could be a traveling art teacher.” The idea has burrowed into you since it was proposed at that first dinner at the museum, but it’s a scary thing to strike out on your own. “Give private lessons or make relationships with cafes while I travel and teach classes for the public. Or…or even for studio employees. Like traveling with him to set and giving art lessons to whoever wants them and contributing to set painting and stuff. Be my own boss and make it whatever I want. Teach whatever my students want instead of what the state of California has decided is easiest to grade.”

The phrases ‘traveling with him’ and ‘set painting’ don’t go unnoticed and it’s all Steph can do to keep from squealing. Or knocking some sense into you. “So, he wants you to develop a business where you can travel with him, spending even more time together. Plus give you autonomy and build your own brand while indulging in traveling – which you’ve always wanted to do more of?”

“He said…that even if I didn’t want to be with him, he still wanted me to be happy.” That conversation will be burned into your mind for a long time, partially because it was how you had decided to try dating for real – but also because of how generous he had been. It had taken you entirely by surprise. “This was before we had decided to try actual dating. It was—it was actually what got us talking about it.”

“Wow.” She had seen Dieter’s generosity, but it’s amazing to see it directed towards you.

“Yeah.” There isn’t really much else to say about it - the surprise you share pretty well sums it up. “Two days later he was convincing his director to let me paint the props that his character will be using in the movie.”

“That’s huge.” Steph sighs almost dreamily. “It’s going to be a big feather in your cap.”

“Or everyone at school is going to give me shit about being too big for my britches now.” It had cropped up in your mind as a very possible fear, knowing that as the younger of the two art teachers at your school and a newer teacher in general, you were looked down upon quite a lot. As though art education wasn’t as essential for a healthy mind as any language or history class.

“Anyone that has anything negative to say can fight me.” Steph promises, nearly growling and shaking her head. “Maybe you should work up a business plan. See how feasible it would be.”

“I honestly have no idea what kind of licensing, if any, it would take to give private or public art classes in other countries and it seems like it would cost a fortune to get started.” A slight – alright, more than slight – fear of the unknown has tinged the idea, and you hadn’t started any research for fear of finding out that the incredibly appealing idea would be too complicated to be realistic. “You know I love my students, but I swear sometimes I still feel like that sixteen-year-old who was going to be a professional painter come hell or high water.” The biggest problem with that plan always being that you needed to be rich first in order to pull it off. Becoming wealthy from painting takes years if it ever even happens. Which it usually doesn’t.

“Maybe you should start looking into it. Can you imagine traveling around and still getting to paint?” Steph muses. She wants nothing more for you than to travel the world with Dieter if it will make you happy. She loves, loves having you live with her – honestly doesn’t know if she would have survived without you after Shawn – but you deserve happiness.

“I’d miss you.” You squeeze her shoulder gently, not minding that the thought of being away from your best friend for too long makes you a little melancholy. You’re family, after all, and you got each other through one of the hardest loses of both of your lives. “Like I’ve been missing the heck out of you for the last week.” And there it is - that little smile that curls the corner of your lips now every time you think of him. It’s because of Dieter that she and Nora are here. He did that out of the goodness of his heart. A much bigger heart than you ever knew he could have. “I love the idea of painting for a living. I do. It would just be a huge change. And change is…it can be scary. That’s all.”

“I completely understand.” That’s very true. Reaching over, she squeezes your arm. “Although we will always be there when you come home. And be so fudging proud of you.”

“You always have been, and I love you for it.” Covering her hand with your own, you offer her a wider smile and shrug. “Who knows. Maybe they’ll like what I did for this movie and I’ll become a set decorator. That would be on par with how weird things have gotten lately.”

“God you would be good at it.” Steph gushes. “And when you make the big bucks, you can help me launch the exclusive food brand.” Dreaming about things helped the two of you get through the lows and it’s still fun to think about now.

“It should have a flagship restaurant.” You recall having a conversation with Dieter to the same affect, and the idea had stuck with you ever since. “Imagine being able to take this one out to eat and not having to worry about hidden ingredients?” If Nora is aware that you’re talking about her, she doesn’t show it, and you waggle your eyebrows at Steph slightly when your niece doesn’t react to the discussion. “Maybe Rico could help. His family had a restaurant, ya know.”

The way her face changes is instantaneous, biting her lip and looking away, suddenly flustered. “He— he’s good about her diet.” She manages, slightly winded even talking about the guard who had been helping her with her daughter while you have been here.

“Oh yeah?” Leaning in with a grin, You rest your chin on your hand and raise an eyebrow. “Is that all he’s good at?”

“Stop. He’s just being nice.” She hisses, although the way the grin nearly splits her face in half tells you otherwise.

“Oh bullshirt.” You lower your voice despite not actually cursing, loving to see such unbridled happiness on her face. “Did something happen?”

“No.” She insists, looking over at Nora. “Yes, or maybe it’s that something almost happened.” She clarifies. “There was a moment.”

“Wait, seriously?” Your eyes widen almost comically. “I was totally just being nosy, but tell me everything!”

“There’s not a lot to tell.” Still, the other woman leans forward. “I gave Rico a key, to make it easier to help with Nora so he’s not waiting on me or stuck at the house.” She explains. “I came downstairs two days ago and he’s already in the kitchen, coffee ready and making breakfast. I just – when he handed me the coffee cup, wearing an apron with a spatula in his hand – I almost kissed him.” She confesses breathlessly.

The “awwe!” You let out is muffled, but it’s just so very on point for Steph. Domestic and sweet and innocent. “Have you thought about asking him out?” To a certain degree, the fact that you’re enthusiastic about her finding someone again really is important, and you know it. You’re her soulmate’s sister. If you even breathed a single word of dissent against it, she wouldn’t say another word to you about men ever again. And that just wouldn’t be right or fair. Steph deserves all the happiness in the world and Shawn would hate to see her waste her loving heart by staying alone.

“No.” Her shoulders slump and she blows out an exasperated breath. “He’s just being nice. Doing what his boss asked or Libby asked him too.” She reasons. “I can’t push myself on him.”

“Libby only asked him to look after Nora while you were at work,” you remind her, smiling softly when her protest comes with a pout. “If he’s doing more than that it’s because he wants to. And Dee knows him better than either of us, and he agreed with me that Rico is into you.” The subject of them had come up a few days ago when Steph had texted you a selfie from family dinner – with Rico right there at the table beside Nora.

“You think so?” The naked hope is probably a little desperate, or maybe sad, but Stephanie wants to be wanted again. She loves Shawn, never will stop, but she also needs to feel like she matters to someone besides her daughter or you, There are just some needs neither one of you can fill. “I just— he’s different from Shawn but he’s also so like him.” She chokes out a small laugh. “Shawn would have loved hanging around him, ironically.”

“He’s a good guy.” And hopefully hasn’t said a goddamn word about the night of the party when he drove you back to Dieter’s house, because that would be mortifying. “He’s caring and kind and funny. And honey…Shawn didn’t want you to stay alone forever. You know that.”

“I know.” She knows that. They had that conversation when it was clear he wasn’t getting better. “I just never expected to actually be attracted to someone.”

“Sometimes the best things happen by accident.” After all, hadn’t that essentially been what happened with you and Dieter? It certainly hadn’t worked out the way anyone had planned - just an accidental night at the hospital with him accidentally overhearing what happened to you as a teen and everything had begun to change. “I’m not saying you should go back home and throw yourself at him. But I do think that it’s okay to be happy or even excited about a crush. You deserve happiness, honey.”

Steph blows out a breath and can’t help but giggle. “It doesn’t hurt that he’s hot either.” She admits with a roll of her eyes.

“Super hot.” Sculpted would be the word you would choose for him – much like your brother had been. “Very much your type.”

“Are you sure you are okay with this?” She asks once again, just needing to reassure herself.

“Yes.” You can’t blame her for asking. If your places were switched you would be terrified of her feeling as though you were betraying her. But the fact is, the only thing that would betray Shawn’s loving spirit more would be if Steph locked herself away for the rest of her life. “I am absolutely okay with this as long as it makes you happy. If it doesn’t make you happy, then forget I even said anything.”

“God.” She can’t help but giggle again, glancing over at Nora. “It’s a good darn thing that someone loves uncle DeeDee and Rocko.” She sticks her tongue in her cheek. “I think she’s saying that one on purpose.”

“I’m gonna end up singing the Rocko’s Modern Life theme in my head all the time.” The old cartoon was a favourite of yours, after all. “So he got a nickname, you think?”

“She giggles every time she says it and demands that he hold her a lot. Or throw her in the pool.” The first time she had seen it, her heart had nearly stopped, but her daughter’s shrieks of laughter had kept her from putting a stop to it.

“You guys are spending a lot of time at Dee’s?” Nora must be loving that. The pool is such a luxury for her, and for Steph too.

“That’s okay, right?” Steph asks, chewing on her lip. “Rico says that the kitchen in Dieter’s house is set up to his preferences so, he enjoys cooking there.” She gives a small shrug. “Plus, Nora is living in the pool.” Her disease meant that often public pools were out of the question and Rico and Dee had assured her that the pool filters would be fine if there was an accident. Even if she did still put her daughter in the swim diapers.

“Honey, of course.” The two of you have returned to eating and are near to demolishing the end of your lunch. “You guys do your thing. And plus, I mean…if things are still good between Dee and me when we get back, I’m sure we’ll still go over there plenty often.” You’ve already admitted to yourself that you’re going to hate not being able to fall asleep next to him every night when you get back to the States. You’ll want to be over there fairly often and you know it.

"I noticed that you didn't jump at the idea of staying with us last night when Nora asked." Steph smirks, eyes filled with mischief. "So I take it your birthday celebration ended with another bang?"

“Well…” You clear your throat, looking a little guilty about having turned down the offer from your niece, but not really regretting it. “I had to thank him properly for bringing my two favourite girls all the way across the ocean to me.”

That smirk ends up being a complete shit-eating grin. "And did you?" She asks, waggling her brows. "Thank him properly?"

You grin, nose wrinkling in that way that always earns you a kiss from Dieter. “Twice.”

"Jesus." She huffs under her breath in amazement and a little jealousy. "How many fuc-udging times did you do it yesterday?"

“Uh…” You actually have to stop and think, literally tallying it up on your fingers as you recall each and every orgasm vividly. “…Five…”

"Oh my God." Her eyes widen almost comically. "He can go five times in a day?"

“The previous record was three.” Even though you have the decency to look a little sheepish about it, it’s not like you’re upset that your soulmate loves sex. “But yesterday was a special occasion.”

"Fuck." Her voice is low, but that deserves the real word. "No wonder you were a little stiff this morning." She giggles.

“So was he.” You snicker, smothering a giggle with both hands. “I mean, for the normal morning reason, ya know?” You had both elected to skip morning sex today in favor of a thorough shower, since you had fallen asleep a rumpled mess after one more round last night.

"Well at least you know you are both compatible in that." She reasons. "Can you imagine a soulmate who was just horrible in bed?"

“I mean I’m sure that’s not top priority for some people, and that others are…shall we say…compatibly bad.” The idea of it just makes you shake your head. “But I’m grateful that we aren’t those people.”

"I'm glad you are getting laid." She winks at you. "You needed it."

“God yes.” A giggle bubbles out of you that you just can’t deny. “I’m so much more relaxed.”

"Amazing that the man you thought you hated is giving you the best ...snuggles of your life." She teases playfully.

“One of life’s little ironies, I guess.” Since you never know what could have been if you had met years ago, you’ve decided not to harp on it. Instead, you’re just glad that you have the time you have. However long that will be.

"I am happy the two of you are getting along." She murmurs softly, forgoing the teasing to give you her honest thoughts.

“Things are good.” You finish your drink and sit back in your chair, tracing your fingers along one of Dieter’s triangles in your arm. “I just hope they stay that way.”

"I don't think you have to worry about that." She predicts, watching you toy with the tattoo that had been the source of so much ire for so long. Both of you were idiots - and in love with one another - but you both were her idiots.

******

Three days came and went like wildfire, and even though you missed spending all you time with Dieter, being able to share your favourite things around Geneva with Steph and Nora made everything absolutely worthwhile. Having to bring them to the airport after leaving Dee at the studio feels like ripping a big hole out of your own chest and you know you’re moping as you get out of the cab with them at the airport departure gate.

"You will be back in ten days." Steph reasons, shouldering the bag she was bringing on the plane with her while Nora proudly wheels the Toy Story suitcase that Dieter had managed to find somewhere behind her. She wasn't going to complain about the trip, even though she was already missing you, having enjoyed every second of her impromptu getaway.

“I’ll still text you every day and send you tons of pictures.” Tugging Steph into your arms, you practically crush her against you in a hug before reaching to do the same with Nora. “Did you have fun on your first time in another country, sweetie?”

Nodding, Nora lets out a slightly put out sigh and looks up at you with large, pleading eyes. Saying bye to Uncle DeeDee had included a few tears but she had been mollified by his promise to send her Aunt Gigi home soon. "Do we have to go?" She asks again. "I really, really, really love it with you and Uncle DeeDee."

“And we really, really, really love that you came, honey.” You hug her fiercely, willing yourself not to cry. The throbbing headache that you woke up with this morning won’t be helped at all by crying. “But vacations don’t last forever. That’s what makes them special.”

“I wanna go on anofer vacation soon.” Nora looks at her mom and then over at you. “I like you and Uncle Deedee kissing, Gigi. It’s cute. And you kiss on vacation.” Obviously since she hasn’t seen you kiss any other time, her little mind put those things together.

“You like it when I kiss Uncle Deedee, huh?” You chuckle softly, hugging her tight one more time before pressing a kiss to her hair and setting her back down on the ground beside her mom. “That might happen when we’re not on vacation too, sweetie. Would that be okay with you?”

“Do you like Uncle Deedee?” She asks, biting her lip and looking up at you in awe. She’s been teased about boyfriends, but she wonders about it. Uncle Deedee is handsome and fun.

Nora’s hair is wild today, curls bouncing in every direction, and they bounce around her face as she turns up her chin at you and worries her bottom lip. Being honest with her has always been key, but you’ve never had to be honest with her about a relationship before — you just haven’t been in them. “Yes.” You nod, brushing stray hairs from her face. “I do like Uncle Deedee. I like him a lot.” Exhaling slowly, you watch Nora’s face for a moment before explaining: “He’s my soulmate, and I really like spending time with him.” You know that she understands the basic concept of soulmates. That everyone does from a very young age. And you know that she’s seen your tattoos and Dieter’s side by side. But you can’t be sure that she’s put the two things together, since the night you explained to her that your marks are from your soulmate was before she had met Dieter or even heard his name.

“Does that mean you get married?” Nora asks. “Elisabeth says that soulmates get married and have babies.”

“Sometimes they do.” After all, romantic soulmates are the most common. “But sometimes they’re best friends, or partners for things, or they might love each other a lot but never get married. There’s no rule about what you have to do once you’ve met your soulmate.” What you want is still somewhat up in the air as far as you’re concerned - although you know that that isn’t just up to you.

“Do you want to get married?” She asks, brow scrunched in confusion as she tries to understand.

"Well, that's not just up to me, sweetie." Nor is it a topic you would ever go near with Dieter. Not when things are going so well. Nothing in the whole world is more likely to scare him off. "That's a decision that adults make together."

She nods and shoots you a grin. “I think you’re gonna get married.” She predicts. “Uncle Deedee wants to.” She announces before she lunges forward and gives you another hug. “Bye Auntie Gigi.”

"Uh..." You try not to stare, picking up your jaw off the ground long enough to hug her again. "Bye, honey. I—I love you." The look you give Steph is more akin to what the fuck? than anything else, and as you go to hug your best friend one more time you mutter: "Did he say something to her?" In Steph's ear, practically begging her to see if she can keep her daughter talking while they get through security and off to their gate. If he did, you need to know what it was, and you also know that Steph completely understands that need.

“I’ll talk to her.” Stephanie squeezes you extra hard for reassurance and kisses your cheek before she pulls away. “Go back to the hotel and get some sleep, okay?” She tells you with a knowing look. “That headache isn’t going to go away by itself.” She’s known you for too long to not recognize the symptoms of Aunt Gigi hurting and trying to put on a brave face.

"Love you." The fact that she knows you so well is both a blessing and a curse, and you give her hand one last squeeze before Steph turns to scoop Nora up and whisk her into the bustling airport.

You climb back into the cab with a sigh, asking the driver to simply take you back to the hotel. This migraine isn't going to go away on its own, as Steph pointed out, and there's something else on your mind that only occurred to you this morning that is wreaking havoc in your mind. An offhanded comment from your best friend this morning about starting her period had made you suddenly acutely aware of the fact that yours is late – something which had escaped your notice while you were too happily ensconced in the best and most frequent sex of your life. Of course you are faithfully using condoms with Dieter now – but that first time you were nowhere near as responsible. The world has a way of laughing at you when it comes to Dieter, so you've decided not to freak out about it. You'll go back to the hotel, pop a few aspirin, and nap off this migraine for as long as it takes. If you still haven't started your period by tomorrow, you'll hop down to the pharmacy after Dieter goes to the studio and buy a pregnancy test, and deal with that terrifying ordeal when you come to it. Cool, calm, and collected. That's the way to do it today. Anything else just makes your head throb too intensely.

By the time you get back to the hotel it's starting to become unbearable, and the plans you had for ordering a pot of tea and an afternoon snack from room service are too much to even consider. You know you saw an aspirin bottle somewhere in the bathroom, and the search has now become vital. Drawing every curtain in the place closed on your way through the rooms, you end up in the darkened bathroom with only the flashlight of your cell phone to guide you, because the less light that meets your eyes right now the better. You've practically ransacked the place before you find the aspirin bottle sitting beside Dieter's myriad of hair products that he never seems to use. It's not a brand you recognize, but aspirin is aspirin, right? Taking three for good measure, you wash them down with a drink of water and decide to go lie down in bed. Hopefully Steph will be able to figure out if Dieter actually said anything to Nora or if her active little mind is just extrapolating things before they get on their flight and she can text you, because the wondering is just interminable. Commitment is a 'c' word that you would never bring up to him in a million years, but if he said something? If he gave any kind of indication that he feels about you the way you feel about him? That would be amazing. Unbelievable, but amazing. It's somehow impossible to sleep despite being dead tired, and sluggishness is creeping into your body - holding you to the bed with invisible arms. With your eyes closed you have no idea how much time has passed, but a nauseousness and powerful dizziness slowly set in. The room is spinning around you and you can't even grasp the blankets to hold on for the ride because you can't flex your fingers—

Why can't you flex your fingers? Why can't you move your leg? Why – when you crack your eyes open to try to get your bearings – are you seeing double? The blankets around you have transformed into a beautiful green field with lovely butterflies and flowers that may or may not be singing to you, and those pills weren't aspirin, were they?

The terror that sets in is a deep and all-consuming anxiety, making you cry fierce tears that you cannot feel. This is your worst nightmare, and it has come back to life: alone, unable to seek help, with some kind of drug in you but you have no idea what it is or what it will do to you. The beautiful field around you seems to be far away as you curl into the fear in your own mind. Alone. With no help. Who knows what or how much you took. You could die right here and no one would find you for hours. Hours. Minutes. Weeks. Days. How long have you been lying here? At least your migraine is gone...

******

There had definitely been a little bit of a chilly atmosphere on set today. Not from the cast, but the director had been short with his interactions with Dieter, making him guess what the man was looking for when he reset the scene to redo nearly a dozen times before he was satisfied with it. Making Dieter roll his eyes at the childishness of the entire situation. Being upset about him taking the day for his soulmate’s birthday and then two days later having a late start morning and two hours of shooting was the height of power play bullshit in his opinion. Of course, the director wants the early day tomorrow, so that’s okay.

Slotting his key into the door, he wonders if you are upset that Stephanie and Nora are gone. It’s been a wonderful few days that they’ve been here and your attitude has been nearly bubbly and giddy. Not to mention the sex has been even more satisfying, with you thinking you need to ‘thank’ him for flying them out. You don’t, but Dieter would never turn down an opportunity to have his cock in any part of your body you suggest. Maybe he can talk you into letting him make you both cum before you decide what to do for dinner.

The room is dark, making him frown in confusion since you’ve not once closed the curtains in the living area since you’ve been here. But now, he’s about to trip over the furniture unless he makes his way to the lamp beside the table. “Babe?” He calls out. “Are you here?”

The only sound to follow in the suite is the sound of soft crying – not the hysterical sobbing kind, but the sniffling sound of a constant stream of worry and heartache and not inconsiderable fear. The green field with all its flowers and butterflies has begun to morph around you, and Dieter’s voice punctuates the hallucination unexpectedly. “Where am I?” Is the question you manage to ask, even though you meant to ask “Where are you?”

You sound different and while the crying is not surprising considering you dropped your best friend and your niece off; it doesn’t sound sad. He calls your name, instantly on guard as he nearly stumbles over something that was left near the bedroom door and hits the handle, careening into the room. “What’s wrong?”

The desperate desire to reach for him – grab at the comfort of having him close to you – is completely hampered by the fact that you can’t move. No matter how hard you try to raise your hand, it’s not happening. The only thing that seems to work are your eyes and mouth, but thank god it’s something. “Don’t—not sure.” You mumble, seeing two of him as he finally nears the bed. The fact is, you have no idea how long you’ve been laying here or what the fuck was in that pill bottle, but you have done enough illicit substances in your life to know that there is no chance it was aspirin. “Feel heavy.”

His eyes widen, unaware if you know you are slurring badly. The first, horrifying thought is that you’ve had some sort of medical trauma. Mini stroke or aneurysm because he knows you wouldn’t get high. “Baby.” His fingers are reaching for you, sweeping over your body and you feel warm, really warm. “What happened?” He rushes out. “Did you— did you take something?”

He sounds far away – like you’re underwater almost – and the fact that there’s two of him is making everything feel a little less warm and cozy. There’s not supposed to be two of him. “Aspirin.” Getting the word out is harder than it should be, but your mouth is so dry. “The fuck kind of Swiss aspirin does this?”

Shit. Icy cold dread washes over Dieter and he scrambles onto the bed to cup your cheeks in his hands. “Listen to me.” He orders you, voice sterner than it probably should be with concern. “Where did you get the aspirin? Was it mine?”

The tears come a little harder, mostly from confusion, but that deep-seated part of you that desperately fears doing something wrong is certain you’re in trouble for going through his things. “Bathroom drawer…” you manage to tell him, finding that if you close one eye, one of the Dieters goes away.

“Okay.” The fear that it’s medical dissipates, but now there is the new and very real fear that you will fucking hate him. Again. “It’s okay baby, it’s all going to be alright.” He reassures you. “It wasn’t aspirin. That’s why you feel weird.” His hand flips and his knuckles caress your cheek gently, trying to soothe you.

“Bottle said aspirin.” The fingers on your left hand seem slightly independent and wiggle slightly against his knee. It’s the best you can do as far as reaching for him goes but you wish he’d hug you or something. “H—had…had a migraine…”

“I’m sorry.” Dieter murmur. “I’m so sorry, baby. It’s not aspirin. I— it’s ketamine.” He explains. “It was my – back up – safety net.” He feels like shit, knowing you will hate him for this. “I didn’t take it. I just kept it nearby – a reminder that I had it if – well, if…”

It takes a long moment to process what he’s saying to you, longer than it should because of the drug coursing through your system. But when you finally wrap your head around it, it’s like the butterflies and flowers and lush green grass all around you start to waver and roll, as your mind starts to be taken over by panic. “No, no, no, no…” If you could shake your head, you would. You would beg him to tell you it isn’t true. Not because you’re worried that he’s been on it, you’re not thinking straight enough for that. No, right now the fear is irrational and terrifying, and not coming in complete thoughts. “Not good. Baby.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He rushes out. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise. I’ll get you some water.” His hand is still on you, and he presses his lips to your forehead.

Water doesn’t take three hours to get, but somehow you’re certain that that is how long he’s gone. Staring at the ceiling, the ambient sound of shouting outside leaks through the haze of being high and become the sound of crying to your unclear ears which only makes your own distress worse.

He’s not proud of the way that he freaks out. Certain that this is it and you’re going to hate him. Throwing a tantrum in the bathroom as he dumps the rest of the ketamine – after discovering you took three pills. He had known exactly how many were in that bottle. Flushing the pills down the toilet and and shouting and crying in frustration and anger at himself before he gets that water he promised you and rushes back to the room to help you, eyes red rimmed from the tears.

“Baby.” The word is on repeat for you, but you can’t explain why. Desperate to not be alone while on something you’ve never taken before – and to see if you can actually move a little this time. As soon as he’s back beside you, all you can think of is that day in the alley in Haight Ashbury. How the kids who had been your friends all leaned over you, looked into your scared, hazy eyes, and decided you weren’t worth the effort. “Gonna leave again.” You shudder, convinced of it beyond doubt.

Dieter chokes out a small sob, wrapping his arm around you and making you sit up. “It’s okay.” He promises. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here. I’m here.” He knows you are terrified; this is your worst nightmare come true and it’s his fault. “Drink baby. Drink all of this.” He puts the glass up to your lips, needing you to stay hydrated.

“Baby.” Drinking the water in long gulps has you oscillating between relief and a panicked feeling of drowning, but soon the glass is empty. “‘S not good for baby…” The thought is there, loud and clear, and you wonder how he could possibly not be worried about the baby when a second ago you were equally convinced that he was going to abandon you completely. Nothing is connected yet everything is, as the thoughts in your mind weave in and out of each other. Anxiety and fear exist for you in spades though your body is light as a feather. It’s dissociative and yet at the same time you’re completely aware of everything you have ever felt all at once.

He freezes, hand nearly dropping the glass before he manages to fumble it onto the nightstand. “Baby?” He whispers, eyes wide. “I – fuck – what?”

“S-Stephy got her period.” Though still slurred, your speech is a little clearer after the glass of water clears up your dry mouth. “I didn’t.” That does make you shake your head though, and wonder out loud as you stare at the buttons on his shirt. “What’s time, though?”

“Shit.” His stomach twists and his eyes dart down to your stomach, wondering if he had royally fucked everything up in your life. It was possible and Dieter can’t decide if he’s terrified or…happy. It’s confusing but he shoves that aside to concentrate on you. “Time is right now.” He murmurs, stretching out beside you and keeping you pulled close to him. “I’m here. You’re gonna be okay, baby.”

“Time’s right now.” Somehow that’s oddly comforting, even with how the world seems to be crumbling in at you from all angles. And because of the way your memories are clawing at the edges of your consciousness right along with it, the mumbled ramblings quickly become apologies instead. “Sorry” and “Didn’t mean it” and “Migraine” are the fragmented explanation you have for him, and you know they aren’t good enough even though you can’t really give him more. The words come and go, and right now they are gone.

“It’s okay.” He promises, knowing you never would have taken those pills if you had known about them. “You can yell at me.”

“Not mad.” The realization isn’t easy, because you can’t tell if you’re actually not mad or you’re not mad because of the ketamine. “‘M scared.”

“I’m not going to leave you.” Dieter knows what a bad trip is like, he’s had them before and he’s never really been left to die. Not when he was aware of it. His own OD, he was unconscious. “You need the hospital? I’ll take you; I’ll take you right now.” Whatever it takes to make you feel better is what will happen.

“Nuh-uh.” Adopting Nora’s favorite phrase of disagreement, you manage to shake your head a little before it makes you too dizzy and you groan, resting your head against his chest. “Don’t want trouble. You’ll get in trouble.” The worry in your voice is all trained on him, and you barely register his shirt being damp. You’re crying again. “Was supposed to be good for you.”

"You are good for me." Dieter promises, reaching up to stroke your cheek again. You are crying and he doesn't want you to do that. Not for him. "It's okay baby, it's okay. You didn't know."

The raspberry you blow at him is derisive and obviously a disagreement, despite the fact that your face is buried in his chest. “Noooooo.”

He can't help but chuckle at you. You are being utterly ridiculous, but he will take this over the upset and frantic soulmate he had been met with when he came back to the room. "Is the room spinning?" He asks, grateful that you aren't screaming at him in anger for leaving drugs in the room.

“Room. Pffffffft.” In the eye of your high, you’ve been outside for hours. That beautiful field melted away to that horrifying alley – but this time Dieter is with you. It’s the rescue you dreamed of but never got. Seventeen years old and wishing while you lay dying that your soulmate would come and save you from the pain. This time he’s here, and there isn’t pain. Just the occasional flash of panic over a baby that may or may not exist. But the way you feel right now? You may or may not even exist. You have no idea. “S’all tippy and whirly. But no more headache.”

“That’s good.” He muses, running his hand up and down your back, trying to keep you calm. “Just close your eyes. It helps.”

Closing your eyes is a good idea in theory, but it intensifies how sleepy you’re feeling as your body wavers between feeling light as air and yet somehow also immovably heavy. “Tired,” you murmur, already feeling yourself slip away from your body.

“It’s okay to be tired.” Dieter coos softly, knowing that sleeping it off is the best thing for you. “You sleep and I’ll be right here.”

“‘Kay…” There has never been an easier suggestion in the world, and you shift only so slightly against him before two more words tumble from your lips on your way to sleep: “Love you.”

Dieter gasps, his hold on your shoulder tightening and he closes his eyes, hating that his heart soars at the words you have spoken while you aren’t yourself. “I love you too.” He promises softly, even if he knows you don’t hear it.

******

The curtains are still drawn when you open your eyes next. It’s been almost fourteen hours and you slept right through them, tossing and turning and snoring and jolting in your heavy slumber. The room is pitch black when you blink and rub your eyes, and the warmth that you have come to fully expect of nowhere beside you. Reaching out, you notice your watch and a ring are still on your hand — which is weird because you never sleep in any kind of jewelry. “Babe?” Your throat is hoarse, making you cough a little. No sound of the shower…maybe he’s getting dressed? “Dee?”

Dieter hears you from the living room, grabbing the bottle of water that he had ordered this morning to be delivered with breakfast. He had been in the middle of writing you a note to leave with the tray, but he rushes back into the bedroom. "Hey." He murmurs, seeing you sit up and coming over to your side.

“Hey.” You’re a little foggy, but you lean forward to kiss him with one hand on his cheek. “You gotta go?”

“I’m sorry.” He is, he had almost called and said he wasn’t making it, but it was only two hours and then he would be back. Plus, he had thought you might sleep the entire time. “I stayed as long as I could. I was leaving you a note.” He frowns slightly and twists the cap off the bottle of water and hands it to you. “When I get back, we need to talk, okay? But I’ve got to go.”

“Okay.” Though you definitely don’t like the sound of we need to talk, you nod your head and give him another quick kiss. Is he mad that you slept through him coming home last night? That must have been a bitch of a migraine to make you sleep that much.

Dieter sighs and stands up. You don’t seem angry right now, but you just woke up and there have been plenty of times that ketamine had affected his memory. “I’ve ordered breakfast. When you feel like getting up, you need to eat it.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, knowing that he’s going to be late if he doesn’t get his ass moving.

All your favorite things are on that breakfast tray: crepes with fresh fruit and whipped cream, a beautiful French omelet full of herbs and cheese, hot and buttery pain au chocolate, and a pot of steaming tea with matching silver vessels of sugar cubes and cream. It’s an exquisite indulgence, and one that doesn’t say anger at all. Maybe he feels bad that Steph left, and you didn’t feel well? If so, it’s a gorgeous display of sympathy and you’re grateful for it, because you’re completely starving.

******

Dieter sighs as he checks his phone one last time before he puts it back in his pocket. You hadn't blown it up, screeching at him for what he had unknowingly done. He just needed to finish up this scene and then he can go back to the hotel and talk to you, and hopefully clarify things.

It’s a few hours before he’s back again, and you’re out on the bedroom balcony with your easel and watercolors when you hear the suite door open. After eating, showering, and changing your clothes, you feel like a whole new woman. Yesterday is a blur, but migraines are like that sometimes. “Back here!” You call when you hear him call your name from the front room.

You sound...happy. His eyes widen slightly and he wonders what has put you in such a good mood. The bag in his hand feels like it weighs five hundred pounds, but he carries it towards the sound of your voice and stops to admire you for a moment. Your back to him as you splash the paint on your canvas in clear, determined strokes. The sun shines on you and seems to cast a halo, making you seem angelic and the tabs that are open on his phone don't seem quite so daunting.

“Hey baby.” The last time you actually called him by his full name seems like it was eons ago, but that’s a good thing. “I’m sorry I slept through you coming home last night.” Turning to face him, you wipe a little paint off your hand and offer him an apologetic smile. “I haven’t gotten a migraine that bad in a long time. You’re not mad, are you?”

Dieter lifts a brow and hums, realizing that you don't remember what happened last night. He swallows, knowing that you might hate him when he tells you, but he owes you the truth. "I'm not mad." He promises, giving you a sad smile, "but you might be."

“Why?” Tilting your head at him, you abandon the canvas and your paints to step inside with a furrow in your brow. “Do you have to go back to work or something? That’s fine. It’s literally what you’re here for.”

Dieter shakes his head. "No, I'm home for the day." It's amazing that he has come to think of this hotel room as home, but he does. You are here, which makes it home. Another reason why this conversation had to happen and his solutions that he had been thinking of all day needed to be offered. "What do you remember of last night?" He asks softly.

“Umm…I dropped Steph and Nora off at the airport, came back and took a couple of aspirin, then laid down to sleep off my migraine.” You shrug a little, embarrassed that you obviously slept so long. “Had some vivid as hell dreams.”

"Baby..." He shuffles slightly, shoulders rounding in shame for having to tell you this. "I— you didn't take aspirin." He admits quietly. "You – the bottle I had was filled with ketamine." He swallows and sighs. "You were high as a kite when I got here last night."

“I—what?” Both of your arms wrap around your waist as you rock back on your heels in surprise. “That doesn’t—no. No. Because you’ve been clean since we met.” Surprise quickly gives way to denial, and you shake your head. “You told me you wanted to stay clean. Why would you have ketamine?”

"I—" He flushes and looks away from you, embarrassed. "It was a safety net." He explains, feeling like his tongue weighs a thousand pounds. "I just kept it, it was – uh, reassuring that it was there if I needed it. I kept it in the aspirin bottle in the bathroom, but I hadn't taken it."

“You had a bottle of Special K just chilling in our hotel room?” Addiction is no joke. You know that. It’s an awful disease that claims thousands of lives every year, but after what you told him about your own past you have to admit to being upset. More than upset. You’re mortified. “H—how…how much did I take? I feel fine today, so I—” His slumped shoulders and your tense ones are at odds, and you carefully step closer to him to force him to look at you. “Shit…”

"I'm so sorry." He offers, nearly babbling as he tries to apologize. "You took three. You were panicked, upset last night but I took care of you. Watched over you while you were...riding your high." He lifts the bag and sighs. "I brought you some tests, wanting to make sure that you had nothing to worry about."

“Tests?” You stare at him, obviously missing another piece of the puzzle. “Like…drug tests?”

"Shit..." Dieter closes his eyes, cursing himself for being such an idiot. "You— when you were crying, you were upset that being high would hurt the baby." He tells you. "You said you haven't gotten your period yet. So I brought you some tests."

“Jesus Christ.” At this point you just need to sit down, and you drop onto the edge of the bed with your face in both hands. “I…I got it.” You mumble, feeling overwhelmed to the point of edging on numb. “This afternoon. It’s just a couple of days late, I shouldn’t have—” You huff, almost like the combined act and sound will banish the tears rising in your eyes. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I wasn’t high.”

"It's okay." Dieter drops the bag and hurries forward, hitting his knees in front of you. You had said a lot while you were high last night, and he won't hold it against you. "You should have said, I—I was looking at rings, you know, in case." He manages, reaching out and cupping your cheek. "Don't cry baby."

“You what?” When your head pops up, your eyes are as wide as saucers. It’s complete shock that instantly dries the few falling tears, and you all but gape at him – though in this moment you have no idea if you’re excited that he trended in the way of rings instead of leaving you in the dust, or surprised by it. The man you have come to know isn’t heartless, just a little unpredictable. “My period was a few days late and you went straight to rings?” Alright, maybe you do know how you feel about that. The beat your heart just skipped is a giveaway.

"Yeah." He shakes his head. "Stupid, I know, but I wanted –" He shrugs, almost embarrassed and unable to tell you that he was slightly disappointed by the fact that you had started your period. Something that shocked the shit out of him.

“To do the right thing?” Gently sliding backward to sit up in bed, you pat the mattress beside you. “I need you to tell me what happened.” It’s slightly more than a request, because you need him to tell you whether he likes it or not, but you’re not trying to start a fight. At least, not as long as he did one important thing. “And— please tell me you got rid of those pills? I don’t even understand why you had them.”

"I didn't –" He bites his lip, ready to protest that it wasn't to do the right thing. Instead, he gets up and sits beside you. "I came back and you were crying in the bedroom. Freaking out." He takes it as a good sign that you aren't slapping him or throwing him out of his own hotel room. "You told me that you had taken the aspirin in the bathroom and freaked out a little more when I told you what it really was. Yes, I flushed the pills, I never— it was something to keep me from going off the deep end. I had them, so I didn't need them. If that makes sense? Maybe? I don't know." He sighs. "I got you some water and you told me about being late and being high hurting the baby before I made you drink some water and you fell asleep." He focuses on telling you the facts and letting you know you hadn't been alone. "You didn't want to go to the hospital. I offered."

"That's it?" Embarrassed enough that you're having trouble looking at him, you still almost reach for his hand. He sounds as outwardly upset as you are inwardly, and you're trying to process what the hell kind of safety net a bottle of pills could be, but you can't, really. But then, you've never had a full-blown addiction. So of course the logic feels skewed to you.

"That's it." He promises. "I – I understand if you want to leave." He's miserable at the idea, but he won't keep you here and he's not going to hold you to your words before you feel asleep in his arms. He knows it was just the drugs, he's said plenty of shit like that when he was drugged out of his mind too. Telling you would make things weird and ruin everything more than it already is.

"I'm not going to leave." Your hand inches over, resting lightly over his but not demanding to be held. Just offering. As mortified as you are, it sounds like he did everything right. "You...you have no idea." The sigh that parts your lips is nearly resigned. "But when I was a kid...a teenager, I mean? All I wanted that night was for you to magically appear and rescue me. It was...it was this stupid, adolescent thing in my head, but I was literally laying there just wishing you would find me like fucking Snow White in the forest. And...and last night you kind of did that."

The relief that he feels is palpable, making him nearly weak with it as he clings to your hand. "I wasn't going to leave you. I didn't. The only time I left your side was when I flushed the pills and get your water." He promises you. "I couldn't just let you worry about it."

"You actually went through last night and half of today thinking I could be pregnant?" With his hand in yours, fingers laced tightly and squeezing for dear life, a new kind of anxiety starts to set in. There are questions here that are demanding answers which you never, ever thought you would need to give. And some that you can't give. Some questions about your future can only be answered by him, and that's even more terrifying. Giving up control is not a thing that you relish at all.

“I thought it could be possible.” He admits. “We’ve been having sex and even if I did pull out the first time, it’s not fool proof.” He squeezes your hand back.

"Yeah, but you functioned through an entire night and day with that thought in your head and didn't implode." You're actually impressed, in an odd way, though you're afraid that telling him that could be taken as condescending when you don't mean it that way at all. "Most guys would have run for the hills."

“I don’t know if I was scared shitless or excited.” The words are out of his mouth before he even thinks. “I mean— it would depend on what you thought.” He adds. “That is the most important thing.”

"This is what you meant, isn't it?" You lift your head to find him looking down at you with searching eyes. "When you left this morning, you said we needed to talk."

“What did you think I meant?” He asks, frowning slightly in confusion. “I half expected you to be screaming at me when I got here.”

"I had no idea." It could have been work, it could have been something Steph said, it could have been a message from Libby. It could have been anything. "But since you left me that amazing breakfast, I figured you weren't mad at me."

“I wasn’t mad at you.” He shakes his head and gives a small, unamused chuckle. “I just— I hated leaving this morning. Knowing that you had just gone through what you feared most. Because of me.” His voice breaks and tears roll down his cheeks, staring at your joined hands.

"Hey..." Seeing him cry definitely wasn't on the list of things you expected from today – or ever – but you tug him closer by your joined hands and carefully brush his cheeks dry with your other thumb before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Unlike the last time I couldn't remember what happened with you, this is a good thing." Although the sentence actually makes you cringe, and you mirror his wry laugh. "Maybe I should check my choices so I stop losing my memory around you. That might be better."

“It might be better.” He admits with grin. “Although maybe it’s because I’m me.”

"Dee..." The impulse to rest your head on his shoulder is strong, but for the sake of asking the hard question, you have to resist it right now. "Do you actually want to stay clean? I—I know you said you did. And I don't think you lied to me, but...but imagine if I was pregnant and we did have a kid and they were the one who had taken those pills."

Dieter sighs, “I wasn’t planning on keeping them forever.” He hadn’t thought of that, but he doesn’t like the idea. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t touch them. Prove to myself that I didn’t need them, and I would get rid of them when I got back to L.A.” He feels foolish but he never said he was the most rational of men. “Kind of like a sobriety chip.”

The expression on your face is lopsided, but you pull his hand into your lap and run your thumb over his gently. "What if we got you an actual sobriety chip? NA meetings and a sponsor and all of that? I mean I'm not going to force you or anything, but if you want to do it formally, I'll help however I can." What you went through when you were younger isn't really quantifiable as an addiction, but technically until yesterday you guess you were seventeen years sober.

“I can’t do that.” Dieter gives you a small shrug. “Non-disclosures and everything. It’s a legal mess, so they encourage me not to go that route.”

"What about me, then?" It's slightly sticky, having someone close to you that you care about be your sponsor, but plenty of people do it. There's the risk that they could grow to resent you for keeping them from their addiction, but more often than not it turns out to be a beneficial connection. "I mean, you can tell me to go to hell and I'll totally understand. But...if it's something you want to try, then maybe I could be your unofficial sponsor?"

“I don’t know.” He bites his lip and ponders that idea. “It’s— I don’t want you to worry about the cravings.” He shrugs. “But, maybe I could talk about it sometime? To the woman I’m in a relationship with?”

"I want you to be able to talk to me about anything." That, at least, is any easy truth. An easy truth attached to a much larger one. One that it may or may not be time for, all things considered. After all – if you can't tell him after he's been your accidental Trip Sitter and weathered the face of a pregnancy scare, then when can you? "The thing is..." Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, are you really about to do this? "I—I..." Squeezing your eyes shut, you barely manage to hold back from cursing at yourself out loud. "I am a giant fucking chicken is what I am."

Dieter snorts and shakes his head. “You aren’t a chicken. You are brave and kind and way too good for me.” He murmurs, picking up your hands and pressing a kiss to the back of yours.

"Brave?" The borderline disgusted raspberry you blow into the air is an inelegant protest, but it pretty much sums up how crap you feel that description is of you. "You thought I was pregnant and you went out and bought tests and started looking at fucking rings and I can't even get up the guts to tell you how much—" Just. Fucking. Do It! "How much I love you." It's like being punched in the gut when the words finally come out, and your whole body wants to slump like a marionette without its puppeteer. You said it. Now you just hope it isn't the final straw that makes him run. Or kick you out.

Dieter blinks and then gives a small bark of laughter. Holding tight to your hand when you try to pull back. “You did.” He tells you. “I thought it was the fucking drugs. You told me right before you went to sleep.” He looks over at you with a wide smile. “You mean it? You do love me?”

"I asked you to tell me everything!" Your jaw drops at him and you're nearly laughing in disbelief, so shocked that he heard that and that you said that and yet...yet he's sitting here and looking at you like that. Like you're replaced the sun in his sky. Like he has hope. "Jesus Christ, the first time I told you I love you was when I was high?" You're never going to live that down; you can just feel it. "I— yes. I mean it. But I realize it's fast and I don't expect you to say it back or even feel it. Maybe ever. I don't know."

“You fell asleep before you heard me tell you that I love you.” He admits. “I thought you were just spouting shit, but I meant it. I love you. I’ve been thinking it for a while.” It’s not eloquent or how he ever imagined it, but it helped to know that you loved him too.

"Wait – really?" It doesn't hit you until after that you truly had been bracing yourself for him to run for the proverbial hills. Terrified of any kind of commitment or just not wanting you to be the one even though the universe thought you were perfectly suited to each other.

“I was going to ask you to marry me if you were pregnant.” He makes a face at you, one that says you’re an idiot. “Don’t know what more to say than that. Do you honestly think I would do something I didn’t want to do?”

"Logically? No." You've practically tugged his entire arm into your lap as your heart swells, absorbing how real this moment is. Even if it came around because of something shitty, it is still a good thing. "But I can't say that my own personal logic machine is working on all thrusters right now."

“You did get really high last night.” Dieter snickers, reaching over and cupping your cheek with his free hand. “But, I’ve got to admit that I do love you. As in I hate that you are leaving in nine days.”

"I love you, too." It's like something inside you is singing, letting you open up and say the words without choking or sputtering out halfway through. "If I didn't have to go back to school, I would stay. I'm...I'm already dreading sleeping without you."

“Oh thank God.” Dieter rolls his eyes in relief. “I was afraid I was going to look like an idiot rolling up to your house right from the airport demanding to take a nap with you.”

"You're an idiot if you think I'm not picking you up." Despite the fact that he has multiple people who work for him, you had fully planned on surprising him with an airport pick up yourself. There didn't sound like any better way to say 'welcome home'.

“Really?” He perks up and gives you a happy grin. “I would like that.”

"It was going to be a surprise, but..." you shrug, feeling a little more than giddy. "I'll come up with another surprise for you by then."

“You don’t have to surprise me.” He tells you shyly. He doesn’t really know how to deal with someone wanting to give him something rather than the opposite.

"I know that." He's cute when he blushes. Always has been. "But this is part of who I am: random acts of love for the people who mean the most to me. Just ask Steph."

“I don’t know what my love language is.” The idea that he even knows what love language is, is laughable. Only knows about it because of some conversation they had about love languages while they were on the Cliff Beasts set.

"Then I guess we'll find out together." Leaning your forehead gently against his, a broad smile spreads across your face for the first time since the words have been said. It's relief and joy and disbelief all mixed together. "Because I'm not going anywhere, babe."

“Jesus.” Dieter breathes out, breaking into a wide, happy smile. “I love you.”

“Not Jesus.” You correct teasingly, leaning into press a sweet kiss to his lips. “Gonna need you to learn my name, Hollywood.” It's not as though he hasn't said it a hundred times or more – as well as panted, moaned, whined, whimpered, and nearly screamed it. It's still fun to tease him.

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “I honestly thought you were going to leave me.” He admits quietly. “That I fucked up.”

"At this point I think we've weathered plenty enough storms. If one of us was really going to leave, we would have done it by now." Cozying into his chest is one of your favourite places to be, but you grin a little as you settle against the bulk of him. "Ya know, Nora asked me yesterday if we were going to get married. She'll never know she was one pregnancy scare away from getting her wish."

“She asked me the same thing when I was watching cartoons with her.” He admits with a chuckle. “Said that only married people kiss, and I like kissing you so I needed to marry you.”

"That's where she got it from." His chest rocks slightly with his laugh and it rolls through until you're both chuckling under your breath. "Kiddo is too smart for her own good."

“Yes, she is.” He huffs, bringing you both back to where you are laying on the bed with your feet hanging over the edge. Right now, he’s just happy that you don’t hate him for the fact you got high because of him. “Smart cookie.” He murmurs. “Like her Aunt Gigi.”

______

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