#how do you come to grips with history? how do you break free of your guilt?

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

i have no clue what possessed me to finish watching the pentiment playthrough tonight but i did and i’m ruined and i have to go play this game myself now huh.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Cheetah

Hello everyone!

So for once this isn't a request, but more something who was walking in my head rent free and I just had to write it.

I don't know a lot about motorcycle to be honest but i made some research, so if there is some incoherence, I'm sorry!

Also I start to translate the English in Spanish before stopping, because in the end almost everyone is supposed to talk in Spanish and I'm really bad at it (I only can command something to eat and drink).

Please let me know what you think about it and enjoy ♥

TW : Moto accident, Angst, Injuries and a little bit of autodestruction maybe.

“Come on Cheetah, everyone’s waiting for you!”

You sigh softly, putting the picture you were looking at in your bag. It’s a picture of your ex-girlfriend and yourself, during your happy days. It’s been three months since the breakup and you are still mourning the end of your relationship like if it was the first hours. You still feel numb and if like someone is constantly crushing your heart in their iron grip. It’s not getting better, and it probably never will. Ona was, is, the love of your life and it’s just impossible for you to recover from it.

Falling for Ona was easy. You met her when you were both 20, even if you come from Palma de Mallorca and not Barcelona. You are a athlete too, so it wasn’t hard to cross her path at one of the Spanish awards. Patri Guijarro was there too and like you she comes from Mallorca, so she introduced you both and the rest is history.

When Ona moved to Manchester, you follow her. You find a team to train your motorcycle and your skills there. You were still young but promising on the circuit and you didn’t have trouble the find someone to help you getting better. And better you get. Just like Ona in Manchester United, you easily improve your skills and became one of the best in the world. Sure, you were sometimes away from home and Ona for your competitions, but everything was perfect.

When Ona came back to Barcelona, you flow back with her too. Some of your team came with you, some other didn’t but you can’t hold it against them. You find people to replace them and continue to race on the top of the leader boards.

The breakup didn’t come from nowhere, you can’t say that. You knew how much Ona was worried when you race, scared that you hurt yourself. You never had a big injury until now. But just after Christmas, you were implicated in an accident and Ona had trouble to concentrate in something else than that since that day.

It wasn’t your fault honestly; you just weren’t able to avoid the motorcycles already lying on the road. So, you made a gliding flight and had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, nothing too serious. But Ona was in Barcelona while you were in Qatar, and it took almost two hours for you to be able to call her, even if you make everything possible to have your phone back.

That’s what pushed Ona to break up with you.

“I can’t keep focusing on your future death while I’m in training or supposed to be concentrated on something important, Y/N/N. I’m so sorry.” was what she told you.

Can you blame her? No. Did she told you it was because she doesn’t love you anymore? No. Did you try everything to make her change her mind? Yes. You even told her that you will stop your sport. But she’s not with you anymore and it hurt like hell.

“Hi Cheetah!” make one of your opponent when you arrive in the garage, where the motorcycles are stored.

“Hola” you mumble back.

Cheetah is your nickname, because of your speed and the feline way you stand on your bike. But it’s especially Ona’s favorite animal. You wonder if she’s still looking at your race sometimes. Probably not. You never asked Patri who became your friend with the years, the girl never talked about your breakup either. You like it that way.

One hour after, you are on your bike, ready to start your race. Your helmet is a notch off from what security recommends, but you prefer to wear it like that. Ona had forbidden you to do so and you had accepted her request without flinching. But Ona isn’t here anymore, and you have no one to care about.

Well, your brother who is in your team maybe. And probably your parents, but even if you love them, they aren’t Ona.

The qualifying rounds put you in fourth place at the start, but after a daring overtaking you manage to get gain the third place. The weather is great honestly, a little bit sunny maybe but it’s better than the rain. You are in Italy after all.

The fight for the second place is hard, your opponent always manages to stand in your way to keep you from reaching it. It starts to frustrate you, even if your team keeps telling you in the helmet to take no risks. You don’t listen to them, still being careful not to make faults though, you don’t want to have any penalty against you.

“Lenta, hermanita por favor!” (Slower, my little sister please!)

You hear your brother’s voice but don’t listen to him either. He will probably kill you for it after the race , but if you manage to get the second place, it’s worth it right? Winning is the only thing that you have left. The only thing that makes you feel a little alive.

That’s why you don’t hesitate to take other risks to get the second place. Plot twist, you shouldn’t have.

It’s the first time since you’re a teenager that you lose the control of your motorcycle, but it’s a strange feeling. You feel yourself flying and the helmet getting ripped off your head during the crash. After that it’s all black, you just have little moments of consciousness from time to time.

“No no no no no! ¡ Y/N No me hagas esto! Respira por favor!” (Don’t do that! Breath please!”)

That’s your brother voice. You don’t know where you are, you hear people screaming and probably running next to you. But you are too tired. Falling asleep now probably will help you feel better, right?

“Sigue luchando. Piensa en Ona." (Keep fighting. Think about Ona.)

Ona? You think about her every single second of the day. You are surprised by this statement, but it has the advantage to wake you up a little. Your brother usually never mention your ex-girlfriend, knowing how much the breakup is destroying you.

“Alright we take her to the ambulance, now!”

If you were able, you probably would have rolled your eyes because of the strength that this man screamed with. You are not even able to open your eyes though, and you hate the way you feel your body not responding to what you want. But your head hurt and soon you are asleep again.

The next time you are awake, it was way quiet. You hear your parents and your brother, but you have to make a big effort to understand what they are saying.

“She called her name several times in the ambulance, but she’s asleep since”

Well, that’s embarrassing. It’s useless to wonder which name you called, there only is one woman in your head after all.

“Did you call her?”

Your mother.

“No. Y/N would have probably hated me if I did.”

Is he right? Maybe. You’ll think about it later.

“She has the right to know how Y/N is.”

Point for your father.

“I’ll call Patri instead.”

Well, it’s probably better that way. Patri is one of your best friends and if Ona wants to have news of you, she will ask Patri. But once again, she probably has no interest about your health anymore.

You fall back asleep again soon after that.

Patri’s face is white when she reaches the gym of FC Barcelona Femeni. It’s not Ona who realized it first, your ex-girlfriend is focused on her exercises next to Mariona.

“Patri you alright?” Pina asks, looking at her friend with worry.

Everyone raises their gaze on the girl, but she’s only looking at Ona. And Ona knows, right there. She gulps and stand up, her hand shaking.

“What happened?” Ona asks quietly.

But Patri takes her by the hand to take her out. She doesn’t want to explain to Ona what happened in front of the others. She doesn’t know how the younger one will react at the news, and she’s scared of her reaction to be honest. Every single person in the team know how much Ona is sad about your breakup, even if she’s the one who chose to have it that way.

“Y/N had an accident during the race” Patri starts, looking at Ona with attention. “I don’t know what her injuries are or anything else. But she has that awful crash, and they came with the ambulance and those kinds of white curtains.”

Ona knows what the curtains are for. It’s to protect the dignity of the runner in the case of a serious injury… or worse. Very worse. Her face passes from white to green.

“Is there a video from the crash?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to…”

But Ona doesn’t listen. Like you, she’s stubborn. She wants to know. She needs to know. She doesn’t know when the accident happened, but the video of it is easy to find on social media. She doesn’t react at all during several seconds and Patri wondered if Ona’s mind crashed, too.

“She loosened her helmet” Ona whispers at first.

“What?” Patri frowned.

“She loosened her helmet! She loosened her helmet and now she’s probably dead!”

Ona’s shouting and Patri prefer that, but it’s surprising. Ona isn’t the kind of girl who shout usually. She puts a comforting hand on Ona’s arm before talking.

“We don’t know that for now” she tries, with a comforting voice.

“Haven’t you seen the crash? Haven’t you seen of hard her head hit the ground? She didn’t move after that! At all!”

Patri doesn’t know what to answer at that. Ona’s right and she regrets to have inform her so soon, without having news of you. Or your brother, who had kind of a crush for Patri before realizing that she’s as gay as you are. You still tease him about it years later.

“I’ll try to call her brother, ok? But for now, let’s get out of here.”

When you wake up next time, you have enough strength to be able to open your eyes. You don’t know what time it is, but the sun is shining behind almost closed blinds. There is someone on a chair next to you, but you are disappointed to realize that it’s only your brother. Not Ona.

“Hola” he whispers when he realizes that your awake.

You only answer with a grunt, unable to talk for now. You feel sleepy again, but you want to talk with him a little bit.

“We are at the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

You close your eyes briefly to make him understand that you remember. Your throat feels too scratchy to talk for now. You’ll learn later that they have to intubate you to keep you alive.

“You’re lucky you’re alive, I’ll kill you a second time if you weren’t. They want to get you back in Barcelona tonight, are you okay with that?”

You don’t answer right away. Why can’t they keep you here?

“The team think it would be easier to be somewhere where they speak Spanish. And we will be closer to Mama and Papi.”

Your brother seems to understand your questions. It’s a great thing that you are both so close. You close your eyes again now and he nods before taking your hand in his. You don’t really care where you are taking care off after all.

“You can sleep now. You need to rest to get better, ok?”

You squeeze his finger softly before closing your eyes for good now, falling asleep again. You are still asleep during the transfer to Barcelona and when you wake up again you are in the Spanish’s city hospital.

Once again, it’s your brother who is here when you open your eyes. He changed his clothes but he’s still here, reading a newspaper with his feet on your bed.

“Don’t you have a house?” you groan.

He rolls his eyes after having looked at you for two seconds. Maybe to realize that he wasn’t dreaming. He threw carefully the journal next to you without putting his feet down, but everything is still blur.

“I can’t read it” you whisper.

“The Spanish’ motorcycle prodigy almost died in an awful crash yesterday. Her condition remains alarming” your brother read for you.

He’s angry. You don’t answer anything, what should you say anyway? You know that it’s your fault, if you were a little more careful nothing of that would have happened. You know too that you aren’t on the point to die, your brother wouldn’t have scolded you if that was the case.

“What are my injuries?” you ask without looking at him.

He sighs loudly before answering.

“You have broken ribs, a broken tibia, your cheekbone too, your elbow is in pieces, your shoulder has been dislocated again and you have a massive concussion. They thought that you have something broken in your spine, but it’s just a massive bruise. Oh, and you have other bruises almost on every part of your body, when it’s not burn because of the asphalt. They had to put stitches somewhere on your head and your brow bone too.”

you stay silence for several seconds, completely stunned. These are massive injuries, you know it. It will probably need a lot of time to heal all of them and that mean that you will miss the end of the championship. You were on the top 3, and it’s an awful disillusionment for you. You were already picturing yourself on the podium at the end of the season.

“How many time am I supposed to stay in bed? Before starting my rehab?”

He frowns softly, not expecting this question.

“They don’t know for now if you elbow will be well enough to start racing again”

“Of course it will be” you snort.

“No” your brother answer. “It’s serious, Y/N. You maybe won’t be able to drive a motorcycle again. On a circuit at least.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t have the choice. This is all I have left now.”

Your breakup was awful for you, but it was for your family too. You weren’t always careful with you, but Ona pushed you to be reasonable and stayed in the track. Now you don’t have anyone to hold you back. Ona was the only one you were listening. You don’t listen to anyone now. Only your Abuela when she when she emotional blackmails you. But your loved ones try not to use that card too much to not burn it.

“You have to stop that. You still have people who care for you. The Oldies do, I do, your friends do. I know that the breakup sucks, but you can’t play with your life like you do.”

“Piss off” is all you mumble back.

Because you know he’s right, but what are you supposed to do now that he’s here with you and you would give ten years of your life to swap him with Ona? He doesn’t answer anything, knowing that you’re out of arguments and that you know he’s right.

“Did she… Did she call you?”

“She didn’t have to” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I called Patri as soon as we were in your hospital room in Italy.”

This hurt a little more, to be honest. You are not aware that Ona was with Patri every time she received a call or a message from your brother. You sight softly before closing your eyes. Your head starts to hurt like hell, which is probably normal for a concussion.

You wake up several hours later and you already know that it’s the night. There isn’t any noise coming from outside your room and no light from outside. But there is someone sitting on the chair next to you.

“Ona?”

It’s seems almost impossible, but it’s definitively Ona. You are able to recognize her silhouette in the dark after all these years passed with her. Even if you haven’t seen her in the last three months.

“It’s worse than anything” she mumbles, looking somewhere near your broken leg.

“What?”

“Not knowing how you are. I thought that break up with you will help me to stop worrying about your races, but it’s worse every time. I almost called you or messaged you before every race just to hear your voice, but I just couldn’t. And then I learned about your accident, and I have to live with the thought that you were dead for several hours.”

She raises her eyes on you, and you have trouble to support her gaze, even if you are in the dark.

“I’m sorry” you finally say.

“Really?”

She seems unconvinced and she has every right to be. She knows you, better than anyone.

“Well, I’m sorry that you were worried because of me. But as you see, I’m alive.”

She rolls her eyes and let her back go against the chair she is sitting on. You still feel strange, without knowing if it’s because of the drugs or because you are dreaming. You don’t have really anything to lose, so you ask.

“Is it real life?”

Ona looked at you with an obvious surprise on her beautiful face. God you missed her so damn much.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it real or am I dreaming?”

“Are you making the move where you ask me if I am an angel?”

You stupidly laugh before regretting it, your ribs protesting hardly. Ona seems alarmed when you groan in pain, putting your non-injured hand on it.

“I’m ok” you whisper, taking several small breaths, the big one would have been too hurtful.

“You are not” Ona mumbles.

She’s right.

“It’s less painful than the thought that I lost you.”

She sighs once again and looks at her fingers before shaking her head softly. You wanted to grab her hand, but she’s on your bad side and your arm is in that awful cast.

“Tell me what I have to do to have a second chance, Oni. I’ll do every single thing you’ll ask me. I swear. Please” you beg when she stays silence for several seconds.

“What if I ask you to stop your stupid moto?”

There is a challenge in her voice, and you know why. One time, she told you that she’s not even sure that if she asks you to choose between her and your sport, you’ll chose her. At that time, you didn’t know that she was serious, you thought that it was something she wasn’t thinking and said due to the fight. How wrong you were.

“I’ll do it” you answer without any doubt.

She seems surprised, looking at you with two big eyes. You have always loved Ona’s eyes, some people said that brown eyes are the most common and expressionless. They never have crossed Ona’s gaze.

“I saw what a life without you is Ona and I don’t want that life. I want you and if I have to stop my sport, I’ll do it if you still want me.”

She sighs and rubs her eyes. She seems tired to be honest, but maybe because it’s the middle of the night and that she’s supposed to be asleep right now.

“I didn’t break up with you because I don’t love you anymore. I still do and I think I will for all my life. I need you to be a part of my life too.”

Her words are melody in your ears, but you feel like there still is something else. Like if something was restraining her.

“But…?” you mumble, looking for her eyes.

“But I can’t continue like this. I thought you were dead.”

She’s crying now and your heart hurt like if someone just punch it. You move in the bed, trying desperately to touch her or anything to try to comfort her. Your ribs and your legs burn awfully, and you ignore your elbow hurting in protest.

“Ona I’m so sorry, I swear” you say, managing to take her hand in yours.

The position is awful, and you wonder briefly if you can throw up even if you haven’t eaten anything since almost two days.

“I didn’t think it will hurt you that way. Please don’t cry” you continue.

She shakes her head softly, kind of laughing between her tears.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you left me. And you blocked me everywhere.”

That point hurts, too. You weren’t even able to look at her social media to have news of her, you were reduced to follow fan’s account of her.

“I just couldn’t live with you popping randomly on my timelines. It hurts too much every time.”

You nod and that the gesture who make your position too hurtful. You roll on your back, trying to hold your whine of pain. But Ona sees it anyway and frown almost instantly.

“Do you want me to call them to have more painkillers?”

“Are they ok with you being here? I don’t want them to make you leave” you admit with a law voice.

There is a beam of silence.

“I won’t leave your side” she says in a comforting voice.

You want to believe that she means it for like all your life. But having her tonight is what you have best for now. So, you nod, closing shortly your eyes when she rings the nurses. The door is open only a minute after and you open your eyes again when you hear Ona’s voice.

“I think she’s ready for more painkillers” the brunette says.

“I will give some to you” the nurse says to you before adding something in your intravenous. “What hurts?”

“Everything” you admit softly.

She nods and gives you a smile in sympathy. You look at her doing her things, missing Ona’s small winces at your admission. The nurse starts to talk again when she’s at the door, ready to leave.

“You will feel better like this. After that it will be great if you try to eat something. You will be sleepy for now though.”

Your eyes fly to Ona who is already looking at you. She said that she will stay by your side, but does she meant while you sleep too? She probably has training or somewhere to go. A match to play? You don’t know which day is it anymore, the painkillers are starting to kick already, making you confuse.

“Ona” you manage to say.

“Sleep, Hermosa. I’ll be here when you wake up, ok?”

Two weeks after, you are finally leaving the hospital. You still have to leave in a wheelchair, much to your disappointment. But with almost half of your body injured, there is no way that you are able to walk with crutches.

The only positive thing is that the person who is pushing the wheelchair is Ona and that she managed to make it funny, sliding on it in the hospital’s floor. Your brother is following with your suitcases, smiling softly while watching both of you.

After learning that you will be alright, you parents went home in Mallorca two days before you were authorized to go home. They proposed to you to come back to Mallorca with them and you have to admit that you miss your island, but there is no way that you are somewhere Ona isn’t.

When you felt better, you had a very intense and long discussion about your relationship, both of your feelings, what you both expect from that said relationship and where you want it to go.

Ona is the one who will look after you on daily basis, but sometimes your brother will need to take you to your appointment when Ona is away or training. The end of the season is soon here, but there still is the Olympics this Summer so she has to prepare herself intensively.

Your girlfriend’s here, one month after, when you are in the doctor’s office for the worst moment of your professional life. Sitting next to you, she’s holding your hand when the doctor looks at you with an awful sorry face.

“I don’t know where to start” he begins, playing with the sheets on his desk.

“Just go straight into it, Doc” you sigh softly.

You know already that you will hate what is going to be say. Ona’s fingers stroking your hand help, but your heart is still beating faster than ever.

“You are making good progress, I saw that they removed your cast on your feet, but we are really concerned about your elbow. We don’t think it will be fit enough for you to be able to start motorcycle in a professional way anymore.”

You were waiting for it, but it’s still hurt to hear that. Motorcycle is the only thing you knew since you were a teenager, you never thought about doing anything else in your life. You swallow softly before passing a hand on your face. You did everything you can to be able to start again, followed every advice your team gave you. But it’s not enough.  

“I don’t know what to say” you finally mumble, looking at an imaginary point somewhere on the desk. “It’s all I know; I don't know how to do anything else.”

“I can pick you an appointment with our psychotherapist if you want to. It can help.”

“Can we leave? I’ll tell you if I want one”

For now, you just want to get out of this office and be able to breath some fresh air. Ona helps you to get up even if you don’t need help anymore. You suppose it’s a way to comfort you. You are glad for her. She doesn’t say anything while you are getting out of the building, but she doesn’t let your hand go when you lean against the railing once outside.

“What am I going to do, Ona?” you whisper softly.

She let go of your hand now, but it’s only to pass her arm around your waist and hold you close.

“Whatever you want mi Amor. It’s ok not to know now, but you still have a bunch of possibilities. We will figure it out together, yeah?”

She kisses your cheek, and you close your eyes, letting yourself being cuddle a little more. It’s not the same feeling that the one when you lost Ona. You know there is different exit doors, you just have to find the good one. Ona will be your light in the dark.

Several weeks later, you are in France. Not for a race, but for playing the WAG for your girlfriend who is playing the final today. She introduces you to others girlfriends/wife of her teammates and you get along great with everyone. You watched every single game in the stadium, and you were able to see Ona several times in between. You missed her and she was worried sick to let you alone at home, but you are pretty fine.

You are famous in the world of sport so it’s not a surprise that you are not able to skip some interviews while going to the stand to attend the finale.

“Y/N” said one journalist when he puts her microphone under your mouth, with an awful French accent. “You announced your retirement sooner this month because of your massive injuries. How are you feeling?”

“I’m still sad about it, of course. It wasn’t my choice and I think it makes it harder but I didn’t have the choice. I’m sad not to be able to finish the championship this year, I was really well ranked, but you know…”

You shrug, thinking that’s between his accent and yours, people on social media will have a great fun.

“Do you think you will come back in the motorcycle world one day?”

“Not as a racer obviously, but why not. I still need to figure what to do with my life, but first I have to heal correctly.”

“Thanks for your answers” he smiles. “Do you have a favorite for today?”

“Spain, obviously” you smile back.

“Have you a favorite player?”

You almost roll your eyes at that. Your relationship with Ona is a common knowledge for everyone, you are not hiding yourself. You both weren’t as famous before and you were posting without really thinking about it.

“Oh, I don’t know… Number two is pretty great” you smirk, looking at the jersey you are wearing.

You hear someone giggle in the background, and you are pretty sure to recognize Irene’s wife waiting for you with Mateo. You soon say goodbye to the journalist to find your place in the stand. You are sitting next to Ona’s family obviously and your family made the travel too. They are sitting next to other Majorcans people, Cata’s family and Mariona’s brother and mother aren’t far away neither.

When Ona smiles at you during the national anthem after looking around to find you, you smile back and say “T’estimo” to her. You know that she can’t hear you, but she easily can read it on your lips.

You don’t know what the results of this game will be, like you don’t know what you will do in several months. But you know you will be fine, because you will be with her.

Ona is your forever and you don’t want another.

[randomshyperson]

Shy Girls - Wanda Maximoff Kintober [Blurb] #04

Summary: A study session takes an interesting turn when you accidentally pull your girlfriend's hair.

Warnings: (+18), Bottom!Wanda, hair pulling, new kink discovery, dry humping, dirty talking, implied established relationship  | Words: 505

A/N-> Today's heartfelt message is for the plagiarists who are vying for the spot of my thirteenth reason: Every time you steal an artist's work, rarely does something happen, but it still hurts, so just stop. But good reading for those who won't plagiarize people who spent time creating for other people's entertainment - all for free.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It began as a typical make-out session.

Wanda and her innocent flirtations, you with distracted touches that made her warm and tingly. 

The history book fell off your lap, and in the empty space, Wanda pressed herself into your hips. She loved the position as much as she loved your arms around her, holding her in place as your mouths moved together.

Wanda tried to press you against the sofa, but you remembered the glass of iced coffee was still in the corner by the cushion, and intending to break the kiss to warn her, you gently tugged on the grip you had on the hair at the nape of her neck.

The sound that escaped her throat was sinful - something between a whimper and a dirty moan, which took you by surprise. Wanda opened her eyes in the same second, her face scarlet.

"Shit, I'm sorry-" She gasped in embarrassment, but you tugged again, taking the opportunity to lower your mouth down her stretched neck and any rational line left her mind. She grew limp in your lap, and the third tug drew another whimper. 

You had to break into an aroused chuckle. "How come we've never tried this before?" You whisper, sounding more like a rhetorical question from the state of the girl on your lap, her eyes ajar, her hips restless and her breathing shortened. She looked so ruined already, and you hadn't even done anything yet. “You’ve been hiding things from me. What else do you like, princess?” You kiss her rosy cheeks, and Wanda evades your gaze. Her shyness amuses you. "What's wrong, baby? Don't go shy on me now. Not when you eat me out so good-

She interrupted your teasing with a high-pitched squeak protest, ending your speech with a heated kiss. You grunted in delight, taking control with ease. Wanda grew impatient again, and this time, you grabbed her thighs to fit her on top, her center directly against your tensed muscle. She broke the kiss with a whimper but you pulled her back to lick every corner of her mouth until she melted against you, unable to do anything but grind herself dumbly into your thigh, desperate for relief.

You took advantage of her state to kiss her skin, until you reached her ear and played with the lobe between your teeth. "Pretty girl... don't ever hide from me. I'll do anything you want..." The knot on her belly explodes with no warning, and Wanda is cumming so hard that she has to bite down on your shoulder to muffle her scream before falling limp against you, her body twitching softly. Her ruined, completely drenched panties rubbing your skin are nearly driving you to insanity.

You think she needs a moment, but Wanda, after wrapping her arms around your neck, adjusts herself to whisper in your ear:

"Please, babe." She starts, slowly catching the right rhythm of her soft movements into your lap. "Can I... sit on your face?"

A sigh escapes your lips at the very thought. "That can be arranged." It's your last warning before you lift her onto your lap, intending to take her to the bedroom where she'll be more comfortable. She giggles shyly into your shoulder, her legs wrapped tightly around you the whole way.

[crheativity]

Can we get a part three of This with riddle and Ruggie?? Thank you! 💜 it's fine if you can't do it btw!

SUMMARY: Someone's picked a fight with Prefect! But he isn't going to let anyone hurt you anymore. Not on his watch. Part 3! Part 1 w/ Cater and Azul can be found here, and part 2 w/ Vil and Silver can be found here.

WARNING: Riddle calls someone a coward. Also the words idiot and jerk are in his part. People get hurt in Ruggie’s part but it isn’t really gory or anything

COMMENTS: I’m so sorry this took so long, my hands have been in a lot of pain the past couple months and are only starting to get better 🥲 I hope you enjoy it! Ruggie and Riddle were super good ideas for this prompt, this was so much fun to write! Thank you for the request! Also, if anyone has any ideas for more characters they’d like for this series, feel free to send in a request!

It must be raining.

You were just out in a storm. That’s all.

That would explain the crack of thunder that collided with your face and gave you a throbbing headache. The warm liquid blurring your vision and dripping out of your mouth and nose was just the rain, not some unholy mix of blood and tears. The chills that froze you where you stood was just humidity and the cold, not adrenaline and raw fear.

And yet, even with your desperate brain trying to come up with some reasonable explanation, the only thunderstorm you could see in front of you was a student you couldn’t recognise. Not with your head pounding like this. Not with the thunder in your ears.

There was something about the boy that scared you. That wasn’t uncommon - this school was full of terrifyingly promising mages. But the scariest thing wasn’t how he wielded his magical pen with deadly accuracy, or how strong he so evidently was.

It was just how much he seemed to be enjoying the mix of horror and pain, of blood and tears, that must have been so evidently and delicately splashed across your face.

His smile twisted as he raised his pen again, something in those cruel eyes of his setting off alarm signals in your aching head.

“This’ll teach you not to meddle where you don’t belong.”

The pen glowed, pure magic surrounding it as he prepared to shoot. His sadistic eyes were alight with entertainment. He knew what he was about to do. He didn’t care.

You squeeze your eyes shut and braced for the lightning.

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

Your eyes snapped open just in time to see the lightning, arcing gracefully yet violently through the air.

Aiming straight for your assailant’s neck.

“What the- hey! Get this thing off of me!” The boy snapped, tugging at the heart shaped collar that had just appeared around his neck.

“I most certainly will not!”

Spinning around, you saw two boys making their way towards you. One was tall with short green hair, glasses, and a familiar symbol - a club - painted just below his left eye. He looked worried, his gaze flicking from you, to your assailant, to his companion and back again.

The second boy made your heart skip a beat.

His small frame shook with rage. His face, twisted with anger, had become as red as his hair. He marched straight past you, heading towards your assailant, his magical pen gripped tightly in his hand.

Uh oh.

The moment Riddle Rosehearts decides to get involved, heads roll.

“How dare you?!” He yelled. “Using magic in a fight is a clear violation of the rules! Did you think you could just shamelessly flaunt your rule-breaking and expect me not to see it?! And attacking the magic-less prefect of all people! If you really must break the rules, at least fight someone on an equal footing as you, coward!”

The courtyard was dead silent as Riddle verbally ripped into the student, chewing him out for several rule violations and other discourtesies.

“But the prefect started it-!” Your assailant protested.

“I don’t know what history you and the prefect may have, but in this instance you attacked without provocation and without warning!” Riddle huffed. “And don’t try to lie to me. I saw the whole thing.”

The boy visibly deflated. There was no getting out of this for him.

“I want to see your student ID. Now.” Riddle ordered.

The boy sighed, pulled his ID out of his bag and handed it to Riddle.

“Ah, Pomefiore, hm? Be thankful you’re not in Heartslabyul,” he snapped, handing the ID back to the student. “Although,” he added, “Vil Schoenheit is certainly not the most lenient of housewardens. He will deal with you appropriately.”

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder. Looking up, you realised Trey Clover had stopped next to you.

He gave you a small, strained smile. “Are you alright, Prefect?”

Riddle glanced back over at you, a little startled. It appeared he had forgotten you were here.

“I’m alright… I think.” You managed, sending both the dormleader and vice-dormleader a smile.

Riddle’s face somehow got even redder and he looked away. You would’ve thought it almost funny if the world hadn’t started spinning. You quickly grabbed Trey’s arm to steady yourself.

“Maybe not.” You added.

Trey reached over to support you. “Riddle, you know more first aid than I do. I’ll take him to Pomefiore and explain the situation to Vil, but maybe you should take care of the Prefect or something?”

“Very well.” Riddle made his way over to you, reaching out to support you. He gently led you over to a bench and pulled out a handkerchief.

“Please pardon me, I’m going to administer first aid to you now.” He spoke stiffly. You nodded dazedly, and then felt a pang of regret as your headache tripled in intensity. You focused on breathing steadily as he cleaned the blood from your face and examined your injuries.

“You’ll have a couple of bruises, but nothing serious, thankfully.” He sighed in relief and instructed you to apply pressure to your nose and angle your head downwards to stem the bleeding.

Slowly but surely, the bleeding stopped. Riddle sat with you quietly the entire time, silently supporting you. You got the impression that he didn’t quite know what to say or do, and just how close you both were wasn’t helping matters. That was alright, though. Just having him here was enough.

“Prefect…” Riddle spoke so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d spoken. He was looking away from you, his face a light pink colour. He seemed embarrassed.

“What’s up?”

Riddle took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. “I… apologise for losing my temper back there. And also for not arriving and stopping him sooner. I’m truly sorry.”

You stared at him for a moment, then cracked a smile. “It’s alright. Although it would’ve been nice not to get hurt in the first place, it’s not your fault at all. You aren’t the idiot who tried to hurt me anyway.”

Riddle flinched at your ‘swear’. “Prefect!”

You grinned mischievously. “Wha-at? There’s no rule against calling someone an idiot, is there? Besides, you called him a coward earlier. If I’m going to get in trouble for calling someone an idiot then you should get in trouble for calling someone a coward.”

Riddle smiled and shook his head, his cheeks slightly pink. “Well then, I suppose I’ll have to watch my tongue. As Heartslabyul dorm leader, I simply must set a good example for my dorm members. Which means I must refrain from calling people… jerks.”

You gasped and clapped your hand over your mouth, trying so hard not to burst out laughing. “Riddle!”

His eyes lit up as you said his name. He looked at you so gently, so lovingly as you struggled not to laugh that you felt your face going warm.

Wouldn’t it be nice to stay like this forever….?

A yell of pain shot through the air, wrenching your eyes open in fear. Stumbling backwards, you drank in the scene in front of you before realising in horror what had happened.

Someone had jumped in front of you.

A beastman, to be more specific.

The boy stood protectively in front of you, breathing hard, hackles raised. He had dirty blond hair and an outfit much too big for him. His right hand was gripped tightly around his magical pen, his left was holding his right shoulder. Blood was beginning to fall at his feet.

Wait, blood?

Scanning him again quickly and you saw them: shards of ice crystals stuck out of his shoulder at every angle. Your stomach twisted and you felt the bile rise in the back of your throat.

“Prefect, go!”

“But-“

The boy turned at you and snarled. “Run!”

You stumbled backwards, stunned. A spell - another gift from your assailant - flew by your ear. Scrambling backwards, you cast your eyes around to find a place to hide.

There!

Sprinting over and sliding into the hiding spot, you peaked your head around and watched.

It was brutal.

The boy who saved you - the boy you now recognise as your crush, Ruggie Bucchi - fought viciously, yet his opponent was not the kind to give up easily. For every spell Ruggie had, this boy somehow managed to dodge or deflect almost every single one of them, and fire off a few of his own.

Come on, Ruggie. You thought. Please be okay.

Ripping your gaze from the fight, you pulled a packet of wipes from your bag and forced yourself to clean your wounds. Anything to distract from what was going on.

After all, there was no way you could help. You were magicless after all, so it was probably best to just leave things to those who could fight, right?

…Right?

A yell of pain forced your attention back on the fight. Both boys were now breathing hard, blood strewn across the courtyard. From the looks of things, neither boy could beat the other. Ruggie couldn’t break a hole in his defence and the other boy could barely hit Ruggie, who was sprinting and dodging like his life depended on it.

“Stay still, mutt!” The boy snapped, firing off spell after spell.

Ruggie didn’t even respond. His concentration remained on dodging and finding a weak point, but your assailant didn’t leave him time to cast a spell.

He just needed an opening.

Steeling yourself, you grabbed a rock and snuck around the two of them. You adjusted your grip on the rock.

Please, don’t let this hit anyone. You prayed, then stepped out into the open.

“HEY DIPSTICK, OVER HERE!” You yelled as loud as you could and then hurled the rock in his direction.

The boy whirled around and deflected the rock with magic in an instant. Seeing you, he seized his chance and prepared to fire off another spell. You squeezed your eyes tight and held your hands in front of your face.

“Laugh with me!”

No spell came. Opening your eyes, you saw the boy in front of you, clearly angry. He walked towards you rigidly, as if he was trying to do anything but that. He pulled his student ID out of his bag and handed it to you.

Then he turned around and walked away. Your eyes followed him as he walked a ways off, then stopped.

The boy whirled around, his magical pen aimed directly at you and began to cast-

And then was immediately knocked off his feet from a blast of wind magic.

Someone grabbed your arm. “C’mon Prefect, now’s when we run-“

Ruggie ran hard, tugging you along with him as you dodged through crowds of people, eventually slowing to a stop in front of some empty classrooms.

You gasped for breath and put your hands on your knees, trying to recover from your sprint. Glancing up, you saw Ruggie leaning against the wall, breathing hard.

He looked awful.

His shoulder looked worse, his uniform was singed and he smelled of smoke. He had countless scratches and scrapes. Yet despite all this, he caught your eye and smiled painfully.

“What… whatcha starin’ at, Prefect?” He panted, clearly exhausted.

“Your shoulder…” you managed. His smile fell and he shrugged - then grimaced.

“‘S fine. Don’t need to worry, shishish-“ he cursed and winced.

You walked over to him and looked him over. His face was ever so slightly pink as he looked away. He shook slightly as you tugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

Pulling out your packet of wipes, you looked up at him. “This okay?”

He glanced at you briefly, his face still pink, his ears flat against his head. He looked away again. “‘S whatever.” He mumbled.

You gently cleaned up his cuts and scrapes. Looking at his shoulder injury, you sighed. “I can’t do anything about that one. I’m taking you to the nurse’s office.”

“But-“ he protested, but fell silent when you cut him off.

“No buts. That’s serious, Ruggie. I’ll buy you doughnuts if you let me take you.” You added, hoping the bribe would work.

He hesitated, then smiled at you. “Fine. Shishishi, if I didn’t know better, I’d guess you’d care for me or somethin’.”

You simply stared at him.

He went red. “P-prefect-? Got somethin’ you wanna say? Haha…”

“Come on,” you said with a smile and a sigh. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

“Okay.”

What a dummy. You thought as you pulled him along. I think I love him.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[sebbywrites]

Training Camp Shenanigans (Nekoma & reader)

Summary: As a former club volleyball player, the reader is a great manager for the Nekoma boys team. She's just one to get into trouble when she isn't being so serious...

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(Y/n) (L/n). A third year now at Nekoma High School. You played Volleyball the entirety of your junior high years, and had a massive love for it; you even played for the High School girls' volleyball team in your first year. 

That is until you had broken your arm on a vacation over break to visit your family in America. It had taken a lot longer to heal because you still tried to practice with it broken, which your doctor yelled at you about. You were just lucky it was your non-dominant arm. 

So here you were, at a volleyball training camp, not playing. The reason being that while your bones had healed, you were still “baby guarding” your once broken arm, and trying to build back your muscle and strength in it. That ultimately made you quit playing competitive volleyball for the girls' team, which they understood, but were still sad to see you quit.

Starting the second half of your second year, you began managing the Boys' volleyball team. Coach Nekomata was also keen on letting you give them tips, from one player to another. 

Although your experiences differed greatly, you were an excellent player when it came to volleyball. 

That and the boys on the team absolutely adored you. 

Right now, they are doing a penalty lap of “penguins” (as you call them) after losing a match to Fukurodani. In a kenma-like fashion, you pulled out your phone and began playing Bejeweled.  

All too soon, your phone disappeared from your hands. You looked up to glare at the culprit, That’s my focus game, asshole!

“Haaah? What are you, 70 years old?”

“If your penguins are over with, a call out would’ve worked just fine,” you hissed. You tried to snatch your phone out of the taller boy’s hand, but he countered, holding it high above your head. 

You glared, “I swear, Kuroo, I’m coming for your kneecaps..”

“Eh?”

Kuroo stared at you blankly, and you took the opportunity to jump up and take your phone out of his loosened grip. 

Sometimes he forgets how good of an athlete you are, formerly or not.

“Come on, the next match is about to start.”

“R-right...”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were now refilling the water bottles for the team, humming a random tune. The last match of the day was still going, but you also knew that all of the teams would start their free practice after a short break, and you would have to go help out making dinner.

Then again, you could probably get out of it because you were terrible in the kitchen. Given that it was day one of the week-long training camp, you could probably be banned from the kitchen for the rest of the training camp.

You grimaced at the thought. 

“What are you thinking about?”

You jumped, almost dropping the water bottle in your hands. You turned your head to see Yaku looking at you with a small smile on his face. 

You laughed, “Ahaha, nothing much, just how I have to finish filling the water bottles and go help out with dinner.”

Immediately, Yaku started freaking out given your history with cooking.

From the doorway to the gym, Lev stared at the two of you yelling at each other.

“Uhh...”

Kuroo and Bokuto were chatting just behind Lev, the former taking notice of the first year’s lack of movement.

“Oi! Lev, if you have time to stand around then you can start working on your spikes!”

The platinum blond jumped. “Right!”

He took a moment to turn and ask Kuroo what was happening between Yaku and their short-ass manager.

Kuroo’s eyebrow twitched, while Bokuto started laughing his ass off at the two of you outside the gym.

“...I don’t know.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After somehow setting the rice cooker on fire Kiyoko-san and Mako-san immediately banned you from cooking for the rest of the week. They didn’t even want you to do the dishes. 

While you expected this, it still hurt your feelings. 

Dejected, you started walking towards the gyms to let everyone know that dinner would be ready in about an hour. 

“Oya?”

Kuroo, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Tsukishima turned their attention away from their practice as you dejectedly entered the gym. 

“Chibi-chan!” 

Bokuto excitedly ran up to you and started chattering away. He left you absolutely no room to talk, making enough noise for everyone present. 

“A-ah, Bokuto...”

Akaashi sighed, walking up with Kuroo to shut up their owl-like friend.

“Sorry, (Y/n)-chan,” Akaashi said.

You laughed, now pulled out of your mood for getting kicked out of the kitchen. “It’s ok Akaashi-kun, I know how he is.”

“I know.”

Kuroo bent down (almost uncomfortably since he was a foot taller than you) to wrap an arm around your shoulder as you deadpanned. His signature smirk was plastered on his face, giving you a bad feeling.

“Oya oya, (Y/n)~” Uh oh. “Why don’t you help us teach this baby bird with blocking?”

Of course, he asked that... you thought with a twitch of your brow.

You sighed heavily, “I was only supposed to come let you guys know you have another hour before dinner is ready.”

“You got kicked out of the kitchen didn’t you?”

You froze. “Ho- Why would you think that???” you started laughing nervously.

“You can’t cook for shit, (Y/n), we all expected this,” Kuroo deadpanned.

“Yeah...”

“So...” His signature smirk made its way back to his face as he geared up to ask you again. “Help us teach him how to block? Spike some balls for us?”

After thinking about it for a moment with a pout on your face, you gave in. “Fine, I’ll spike for you guys.” 

“HEY HE-!”

“But only if you agree to stop making fun of me for playing Bejeweled.”

Now it was Kuroo’s turn to be shocked, slightly pulling away from your much shorter form. “You’re still mad about that!?”

He regained his composure as Bokuto and even Tsukishima laughed at you two.

“Fine, but I still don’t get why you play a game for old people.”

You scowled, then swiped your leg back to push in his knees harshly.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You figured something like this would happen, so you brought your volleyball gear with you to the training camp. 

After you agreed to help the boys in the third gym out, you did still have to go inform everyone else about dinner. Afterward, you changed and headed back to the gym. 

There were still 45 minutes left until dinner should be ready once you found your way back to the third gym. 

Some of the other school’s players noticed you walking past the gyms again in your volleyball gear, shoes in hand. A certain duo took special notice and went to Daichi for answers.

“Huh? Ah you mean the Nekoma manager?”

“Is that who she is!?” Hinata asked excitedly. 

“Y-yeah,” Daichi replied. “She was one of the regulars for the girls' team up until last spring.”

“So cool!”

“Regular?” Kageyama inquired. “Then why is she their manager now?  Shouldn’t she be playing for the girls' team?”

“Ah, well, from what I heard she had an injury that made her switch gears. However, a friend of mine from Tokyo said that she was well on her way to becoming the ace of the Nekoma girls' team.”

“No way...!”

As you stepped back into the third gym, putting on your beloved volleyball shoes and then beginning your warmup, you also watched the two idiots and Akaashi giving a quick lecture to Tsukishima.

“Ah! Welcome back Chibi-chan!”

“I’m all warmed up now, so whenever you want to get to the play I’m ready,” you replied with a smile.

Kuroo asked Akaashi to go set for you on the other side of the net, while he, Bokuto, and Tsukishima would try to block.

You threw up the ball toward the second-year setter, then ran up for the hit.

You had complete focus on the ball, and the three very tall boys on the other side of the net. 

What none of them knew, was that for the past few weeks, you gathered up your friends from the girls' team and had them help you practice. You were still a bit unpolished in your movements after not playing seriously for such a long time, but none of that seemed to matter at that moment.

The cold, serious look on your face as you spiked the ball with such power scared even Kuroo, who was very used to playing with you during practices. He’d never seen such a look on your face. 

It unnerved him.

Nonetheless, he had set the timing for the block almost perfectly. Unfortunately, you aimed directly for glasses’ slightly spread-out arms. 

Your spike went directly between his arms like a hot knife through butter. 

It was exhilarating.

Tsukishima stared at the ball falling behind him in shock. He was absolutely sure you had no chance of going between his arms like you did, or through any of the three for that matter. 

“Aghhh, I should’ve expected that from (Y/n),” Kuroo commented. “Well, if that’s how she’s going to play, it looks like we might have to match her energy.”

The rooster-haired boy grinned with a determined look in his eye.

“Alright Tsukishima, let’s do it again,” the blond glanced at Kuroo as they set up their block again. “Remember, though, more experienced spikers like (Y/n) here will look for even the slightest hesitation, or the smallest opening in your stance and position. It’s important to keep that in mind.”

“R-right...”

“I’m going againnn!” you called out.

“Oonnne, two!”

Needless to say, the 5 of you came back after dinner to continue practicing (although Tsuki was dragged back against his will).

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was day 3 of the training camp when Kuroo and Yaku came to both you and Coach Nekomata with a special request.

“E-eh!? Why do you want me to join in on the practice? I should be taking notes a-and getting the waters and-”

“Well,” Yaku began, “We know you’re still a really good player, (N/n)-chan.”

“And, we know you still need some practice yourself,” Kuroo added.

You scowled. “Kindly fuck off, Tetsuro.”

“(L/n).”

“Sorry, Coach.”

The old man looked back at his two third-year players, “I’ll allow it.” You and the boys smiled excitedly. “But, let me talk it over with the other coaches first. While they may or may not know how good of a player she is, this is still a training camp for the boys' teams, so they might be against it anyway.”

You three deflated visibly but understood where the coach was coming from. 

This training camp isn’t for me as a player, so I don’t really understand why they would ask...

You looked down at your hands.

It can’t be helped... I quit on my own. It’s no one’s fault or responsibility but mine that I haven’t played in any matches. 

“-/n)? (Y/n)-chan?” Yaku called to you with a softness in his voice. 

He had immediately picked up on your change in mood at the shutdown of the request from him and Kuroo. The latter had also picked up on it, seeing as he had been a close friend of yours since your junior high days. 

He knew just how painful it was for you to not play, it’s why he convinced the Coaches to let you in on practice rather than just take notes for the team from the sidelines. 

Nekomata hadn’t ever seen you play until the first time you joined in on practice for 3 on 3 matches on a trial run. Kuroo’s lame excuse was that since you were a player yourself as well as their manager, you would have a better time gauging their strengths and weaknesses if you witnessed them firsthand in a match. It wasn’t necessarily wrong, as it certainly did help you gauge their abilities better, but it was still an idiotic excuse.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Nekomata gathered the team together in front of the bench. Their two-hour lunch break had just ended, starting the practice matches back up.

You had yet to make your appearance back at the gym. No one knew why just yet, but a certain third-year duo had an inkling.

They were correct of course.

Just as Nekomata finished his little speech with the team and sent them off to warm up, you entered the gym in full volleyball attire.

“You see, our manager was a star player on our school’s girl team. She’s just as tenacious as those boys are, but I think it may also be a good learning opportunity for all of the teams.” Nekomata explained to the other coaches. 

“Huh?”

“I get that she was a player before, but...”

Keishen and Takeda shared a look with one another before the former spoke up. 

“We’d like to go along with it.” Ukai looked around the cafeteria to the players and other managers. “It’s a bit unorthodox, but because she’s a third year, and from what I’ve seen of her games-” Nekomata gave the young coach a look of surprise at that comment- “Nekoma’s manager is a force to be reckoned with.”

“Is that so...” Shinzen’s coach said.

Nekomata pulled you aside as you were refilling the water bottles a while before the practice matches were to start back up. 

“I talked to the other coaches about your request.”

“Chibi-chan is playing!?” Bokuto practically screamed.

Akaashi looked up from their team circle in surprise, as did many other players around the gym, including the resident God-like quick duo.

You tried to act nonchalant about it, but it was starting to be really hard not to focus on all the eyes on you courtesy of the other boys in the gym. 

Yaku grinned in delight. Kuroo gave his signature grin. Kenma looked a bit surprised at your small frame in volleyball gear, but quickly returned to save his game before starting warm-ups. Even Yamamoto had started crying.

“ACK!” Lev scooped you up into his arms and squeezed you as he cheered.

“L-Le-Lev!” 

“OI!” Yaku quickly kicked the back of the first-year’s knees, allowing you to breathe again. Once you were accounted for as safe from Lev, Yaku began berating the first year for quote-unquote “ALMOST KILLING OUR POOR MANAGER” .

You and many others sweat dropped at the two. 

“Uhh, Yaku? We need to warm up now...” you gently patted his shoulder.

You were nervous since the Nekoma boys were the only boys you’ve ever played against, but as soon as you had begun the first match of the afternoon all of your fears melted away. 

Once you were rotated into the match against Fukurodani, switching out with Kuroo, you gave a signal behind your back to tell the team the play you wanted to use. 

You know every single one of their strengths, weaknesses, and plays. You and the Coaches had come up with a large majority of them together, and you studied each player like you were going to have a pop quiz on the team at any given moment. Not to mention you practiced with them literally all the time.  

Bokuto and Akaashi knew you were good, but during the first set, they greatly underestimated just how good you had gotten since the last time they joined Nekoma in a practice match (which was only a few months, but you had also been putting in a lot of work to get back up to your previous level and then some). 

You guys didn’t win the match against the Owls, but it left a mark on their psyche at how close it had ended. 

Scary... they Fukurodani players thought to themselves. 

“What’s your analysis on the players, (L/n)?” Coach asked after your penalties. 

You used a towel to wipe some sweat off your face, staring into the ground blankly. 

“...They’re good,” you said. “But we can also be better. The next time we go against them, I think whenever Bokuto is on the court we need to give him more kill blocks than soft blocks. We gave him way too many soft blocks this time around, myself included.”

“You heard her,” Coach clapped. “Shut down more of #4’s spikes next time, but if you do find the need to intentionally get a one-touch, I advise you to do that as well. Sometimes it can’t be helped, to be honest...”

Nekomata grinned, seeing that Karasuno just got their asses handed to them by Ubugawa. They just started on their dive-receive penalties. 

“We’re against Karasuno next,” Kenma mumbled. 

“That’s right! Lev and (L/n)-senpai were gone for our practice match against them, and those two haven’t shown their ‘weird quick’ yet in front of her,” Inuoka commented.

“Weird quick...?” you inquired. 

Kuroo and Kenma started talking about it. 

“It’s fuckin fast.”

“It’s Shouyo and Kageyama’s extremely fast quick attack.”

You put a hand to your chin, thinking about something. 

The team left you to think, getting into position.

You and Yaku, the last ones to leave the team huddle, started talking strategy for the next match, although Yaku assured you this should be an easy one to win; they were all out of sync and still trying to perfect their new quick attack with Hinata’s eyes open now. Their star players were pretty shitty right now, you had to admit. 

You also knew though, that the second they got their shit together your team would be in an uphill battle. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was the last day of the training camp. You were excited to finally head home soon, but you would certainly miss seeing your new friends.

Over the course of the training camp, Kuroo and Kenma introduced you properly to some of the players from Karasuno. 

Kuroo had to admit though that he was jealous at the instant click between you and Sugawara, though; it almost made him regret introducing the two of you. This is because while you were a pretty serious person in and out of games, you were an absolute menace to society. Daichi felt the same about Sugawara, just he was exceptionally polite and kind to mask his menace personality (for the most part). 

And because it was the last day, Suga and yourself roped some others into participating in a prank war. 

It started with you replacing Suga’s water for soy sauce in the middle of a game when no one was looking, as retaliation for him putting a shit ton of curry powder in your curry and you had to, uh, retire for the rest of the night. However, what you didn’t know was that you managed to put it in Daichi’s water bottle instead because you were panicking about getting caught by Suga, Kiyoko, or their Coaches.

Daichi thought it was Tanaka and Nishinoya that replaced his water, who in turn thought it had to have been someone like Yamamoto, who thought it was Lev, and so on and so forth. The only people who suspected you of the ‘crime’ were Kuroo, Kenma, and Yaku; they had known you the longest and knew about your... habits. They also knew what had happened with your dinner the previous night, and had the suspicion that you wanted payback. 

Things didn’t get any easier at the celebratory lunch, either. You somehow acquired water balloons and got Bokuto, Hinata, Kageyama, Inuoka, and a couple of others from the other teams to join you in wreaking havoc.

“Ahhh, youth,” Nekomata said at the sight of the large group of high schoolers screaming their heads off while getting absolutely pummeled by the small group of idiots with water balloons.

Keishin Ukai stared at the sight in both horror and shock.

“(Y/NNNNN) (LLL/NNNNN)!”

You froze at the sound of an irritated Kuroo. Yaku was close behind the tall rooster-head, equally if not more irritated. You slowly and mechanically turned to make eye contact with them.

Uh oh.

“Hey, hey....” Kuroo drawled. 

“Tet-Testu I didn’t-”

He and Yaku started sizing you up and you prepared to run for your life.

“(Y/n)....” Yaku muttered when they were within a short distance of you. “GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!!”

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!” You screamed as your favorite fellow third years started chasing you, both soaking wet and attempting to beat your ass like irritated parents.

“I’M SORRYYYYYYY! PLEASE I DON’T WANT TO GET WET IT WAS A JOKE! I SWEEEEAAAAARRRRRR!”

“YOU AREN’T ESCAPING THIS ONE, GET BACK HERE!”

Some had paused their war to look at you getting chased by the Nekoma captain and libero. They watched as you got violently tackled at the top of the hill and then came rolling back down.

Daichi had already corralled his evildoers and was in the middle of scolding them. He paused to smile at the antics before going back into his Dad Mode™ and continuing to yell at his teammates.

“Right.... Youth....” Ukai spit out. 

[angel-of-the-moons]

Am I allowed to request a Johnny Cage brother figure? Or Even a Kenshi one? Ofc I understand that you’ll only do one but no rush ~👻

Actually i have a good idea! I know this is more like a headcanons type thing, but it helps answer both of those!

Two's Company

Johnny Cage/Kenshi Takahashi x Siblings!Reader

TW/CW: None. Mentions of some violence, some petty sibling crap, Kenshi's history and injuries.

Kenshi Takahashi

• You were one of the reasons why Kenshi wanted from beneath the Yakuza's thumb. The day you were born, Kenshi vowed he would be the best big brother he possibly could to you, from the very second your tiny fingers first gripped his and you cooed at him, innocent of the evil you and he were born into thanks to generations of necessity to hide.

• Growing up, Kenshi would tell you stories, myths, and fables. But some of his favorites to tell you (and reenact under the safe watch of your mother) was the stories of the Taira clan.

• Kenshi always stood up for you. When you were bullied in school? Kenshi was there. The bullies always came up and apologized shortly after, sporting bruises, cuts, and the occasional missing tooth.

• Some asshole stood you up on a date? Kenshi would pay them a visit. He wouldn't kill them or injure them like he would have in his youth, but he would make it well known that they were no longer allowed to come near you.

• When one of the Yakuza would get too close to you, Kenshi was forced to act violently, much to the delight of his "overseers" as your mother would call them, always with disdain. It was one of the only times he genuinely enjoyed inflicting pain on someone, it was a way of striking against your oppressors.

• Kenshi has your name tattooed over his heart, or inside his wrist, so that way you were always with him, the bright light he refused to let be snuffed out by the Yakuza. The hope for the future of the Taira.

• When he told you of his plan to break the Taira free of their chains, you supported him, but you feared for your big brother's safety.

• You supported him when he told you he knew where he could find Sento, your family sword. It was in the hands of some big shot Hollywood has-been.

• You cried and hugged him goodbye, wishing him safe travels and good luck.

• Kenshi had pleaded with Liu Kang to let him tell you what his new arc in life would be, what he was doing with the Wu Shi, what he was training for.

• Liu Kang agreed, standing off a ways as Kenshi came home, arranging a meeting with you in one of the (few) Taira safehouses to give you the rundown.

• To say you were shocked, and skeptical was an understatement. Liu Kang grinned at you, the corners of his eyes creasing at the edges when you told him that if your brother got hurt--or died--he would be "very sorry" and that yes, your brother kept you largely out of the wrongdoings of the Yakuza, but you still knew how to fight.

• But when Kenshi returned from battle, blinded, with Sento strapped to his back? All you could do was hold onto each other as you cried, your mother sobbing as she held the two of you, her babies, her most precious gems.

• You helped arrange the split from the Yakuza, helping relocate somewhere safer to rebuild your clan, occasionally working with the Shirai Ryu when you needed to. After your clan's history, you needed to build bridges. And the leaders of the Shirai Ryu, Kuai Liang and Tomas Vrbada, were welcoming and warm to your family and clan. They earned your respect by fighting alongside your brother against some evil man named Shang Tsung.

• Kenshi fell to his knees in laughter when you slapped Liu Kang, for not keeping his promise that your brother would come to no harm.

Johnny Cage

• One Cage was bad enough, but two? Liu Kang didn't find out Johnny had a younger sibling until it was brought it to his attention. Right when you walked into Johnny's mansion. Gawking at him, Scorpion, Sub-Zero, and Kenshi Takahashi.

• You had even begun to try and wail on Scorpion (Hey! That guy and his friends were trying to beat up your big brother! What did they expect, you to just sit by and chill?) before Liu Kang stepped in and told you who they were...

• He knew Johnny had an older brother, but you? Yeah... He was certainly surprised when he found out. When he asked Geras why he never mentioned it, Geras merely smiled and said "You never asked, my friend."

• That attitude runs in the Cage (Carlton) genes, that's for sure.

• You were a hothead, always ready to punch first and ask questions later when your big brother needed you to.

• As kids, you and Johnny were thick as thieves. (Some would call you Dumb and Dumber, however, with the antics you got up to. Like the glitter bomb booby trap you'd put in your neighbor's mailbox)

• You guys were so close, when you were little, your parents would always find one of you not in your bed, but instead in your sibling's room, clinging to a stuffed animal and blanket as you two snuggled, snoring softly.

• Johnny had a typical big brother attitude when it came to certain things. When you had your first heartbreak? Johnny didn't have to even touch them, instead giving a verbal lashing so good the school talked about it for months.

• But when some girl had cheated on Johnny? Oh, you were downright diabolical. You had slipped Nair in her shampoo so when she came back from cheerleading practice, she'd be in for a nasty surprise. When she came running out of the shower, hair in clumps? You leaned against the lockers in the hall, a smug smirk on your face. "Geez... Looks like Karma got you good! Now stay away from my brother, bitch."

• You never knew why you didn't get in trouble, after that.

• When Johnny made it big, you made it to all his premieres, even if his parents didn't like his career choice. You were his biggest fan, and best critic.

• Johnny adored bringing you on set and listening to you give unabashed, unfiltered critique on his skills. It always made him laugh and stoked the fires of improvement.

• When he fell on hard times, you were there to lend an ear for him to vent, providing comfort when he confided that his marriage with Cris was falling apart.

• Johnny ignored his companions' complaints about keeping you in the dark, spilling everything to you about what was going on, and how he'd planned on using the stuff he saw to turn his career around.

• You hugged him tightly, clinging to his shirt as you bid your goodbyes.

• He sent you texts and selfies everyday, as well as lengthy--and I mean lengthy--paragraphs of the "crap" he was doing. It always brought a smile to your face when you'd hear a ping and saw it was from him.

• The moment he told you that he'd be going to another world? You were skeptical. Until he started sending you the pictures and videos. That Raiden guy shot lightning from some kinda plate thingy!

• You still had that one promoter friend who could help build hype from the recordings and pics he sent you, right? Of course you did.

• When Johnny came home, you hugged him. And punched him in the gut for making you worry and going radio silent for weeks. His friends, Kung Lao and Kenshi laughed.

• Johnny had even surprised you with one of the lead roles (which you turned down in favor of a lesser one).

• But it was when Johnny showed you some moves he learned from the Wu Shi, that you learned you both had the same power.

• And from somewhere in Earthrealm, Liu Kang felt a chill run up his spine.

[soulofapatrick]

Piano Lessons - Alex Claremont-Diaz x Male Reader

Summary: Alex gets turned on by your piano skills

Words 1.7K

Warnings: Smut; gay smut; rimming; cockwarming; anal sex; idk what this is anymore

Notes: I promise I'll write some fluff for Alex and Henry next !

Y/N’s POV 

As I sit at the grand piano in Kensington Palace, my fingers gracefully glide across the ivory keys, coaxing a melodic symphony from the instrument. The rich, resonant notes fill the room, dancing in the air like fireflies on a warm summer night. The piano is set against a backdrop of regal red, pristine white and the deep blue hues that embody the spirit of the monarchy past. It’s a symbol of tradition and history, much like my family itself. 

Today, the atmosphere in the room is different, and it’s all because of Alex Claremont-Diaz, the charismatic and intelligent man I’m fortunate enough to call my boyfriend. He’s visiting me here at Kensington Palace, and his presence has added a touch of vibrancy and excitement to the usually stated surroundings. As my fingers continue to play, I can’t help but steal a glance at Alex. He’s seated on a luxurious, plush chair nearby, his russet eyes fixed on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. His admiration and affection are palpable, even from across the room. 

The strains of the piano’s music seem to weave a story of their own, a story of love, passion, and the unbreakable bond between two individuals who have defied the odds. Alex and I come from different worlds, but our connection is undeniable. He’s the love of my life, the one who has shattered all expectations and brought colour into my world of duty and responsibility. 

I finish the piece with a flourish, letting the final notes linger in the air for a moment before they fade away. Alex rises gracefully from his seat, his eyes never leaving mine, and his smile could light up the darkest of rooms. He approaches me with that same confident stride that has always captivated me. The way he moves, with an air of self-assuredness, is a testament to the strength of his character and the love that binds us together. 

He doesn't stop in front of me; instead, he reaches out and gently takes my hand, drawing me to my feet. Our eyes lock, and it's as if the world around us disappears, leaving just the two of us in this intimate moment. He moves around to stand behind me, settling on the piano stool. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he’s wrapping his muscular arms around my waist and pulling me back onto his lap. It draws a surprised gasp from me as there’s something poking me in the ass and fuck, I know exactly what he’s doing. 

I don’t protest, letting myself melt into his embrace, my head falling back against his shoulder, relishing in the comforting and exhilarating feeling of his arms around me. The warmth of his body against mine is a soothing balm to my soul, reminding me that I’m not alone in this world of duty and responsibility. A soft sound escapes my throat when Alex presses a loving kiss to the back of my neck, each one sending shivers down my spine. 

His hands slip from my waist down to the button of my jeans, a gentle kiss pressed to my jawline and I’m fighting against it as Shaan is just outside the door and could walk in any moment. But, Alex’s hand is driving me crazy, palming me through my tight jeans, knowing exactly how to turn me on. 

“Baby boy,” Alex’s voice is low and resonant, exuding want and love, and it’s breaking down the last of my reservations about what he’s asking, “Need you baby.” 

I rock my hips back once, drawing a deep rumble from Alex’s chest, and it’s all he needs to pop the button on my jeans and tugging lightly. I lift my hips for him, letting him draw my jeans and boxers down far enough to expose me to him. Instead of freeing himself from the confines of his jeans like I expected he’s gripping my hips and pushing me to my feet, pressing a large hand to the base of my spine and bending me over the piano. His hands spread my ass, kneeling the flesh between those fantasy inducing hands and before I can process what’s happening I’m yelping in surprise. 

At the first lick I almost faceplant the top of the piano, never expecting so many nerve-endings where Alex is currently ravishing me. Alex supports my weight, bringing me back against his mouth, and it draws an embarrassing sound from me, a high pitched whine that gets caught in my throat. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I’m gripping the edges of the piano, trying to spread my legs even further to give him more room. Alex wastes no time, tongue flicking and licking broad stripes against my hole, moving every so often to nip at the plump skin. It’s erotic, more than I could have imagined. The two of us with Alex’s lean but muscular body holding me up as he devours me, my dick twitching as he eats me out like I’m his last meal. His hands are massaging my thighs, oh so close to my aching dick, dripping precum onto the keys of the piano, making me arch my back to try and get the warmth closer to my dick. It doesn’t work but instead gives Alex more space and before I can react his tongue is inside me and I’m crying out before slamming my head against the top of the piano trying to muffle my cries. 

“A-Alex please.” My voice comes out broken and hoarse, causing Alex to grin against my skin, “Alex. I need you.” I’m almost crying, feeling embarrassed about begging but I need to feel him inside me properly. 

It’s all it takes it seems. Alex is pulling away, giving me time to steady my breathing while I hear the zipper on his jeans and then, with gentle hands I’m being guided backwards. I’m so glad for Alex’s grip on my hips as my knees are shaking like crazy but that’s soon forgotten when the head of his dick pushes its way past my now relaxed opening. I’m gripping his wrists, taking a deep breath as the stretch still burns but not as much as before, Alex’s spit acting as lube and I can slide further down quicker than before. 

I go to raise my hips again as soon as I’m settled on his lip, the button of his jeans digging into the back of my thigh but his hands still gripping my hips stop me and he’s leaning forwards, warm breath ghosting my ear, “Play.” 

“W-what?” I choke out. 

“Play me something.” His voice is tight and his hips betray him when they thrust up ever so slightly, drawing a sound from both of us but he reiterates his point, “Play for me.” 

I take a deep breath, attempting to focus on playing another piece despite the situation, knowing I’m getting nothing from Alex otherwise. I place my fingers on the keys, trying to muster the concentration needed to produce a coherent melody. But as I begin to play, Alex’s hands find my thighs, massaging them and his lips are coasting teasingly along my neck. His proximity is both a blessing and a challenge, as his hips jerk up again, teasing himself as well as me. 

With each note I strike, I can sense Alex’s playful energy intensifying. He digs his nails into my inner thighs, drawing a sharp sound from me and an off key as my hands jerk. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and it’s clear he intends to draw this teasing out as long as he can. His fingers trace light patterns on my hips, sending delightful shivers down my spine. He whispers sweet, teasing words in my ear, his voice laced with affection and a hint seduction. It’s incredibly difficult to maintain my composure and focus on the music when he’s gently circling my hips in his lap. 

The piece could not end quicker for both of us because as soon as I’ve played my last note Alex’s regains that firm grip on my hips and lifts me until just the head of his dick is indie me before he slams me down, a loud cry of pain and pleasure escaping me. I’m a whimpering mess already, Alex moving a hand to wrap around my aching dick, moving his hand in time with his almost brutal thrusts. I can feel my muscles tightening and thighs shaking as I reach that precipice, but Alex, my sweet, frustrating Alex. He pulls me down so he’s fully sheafed inside me and circles his hips, just missing my prostate and leaving me almost begging for that sweet release. 

“Now now baby,” Alex nips at the back of my neck, “Wait for me.” With that he thrusts as deep as he can, circling his hips every few thrusts until I’m almost crying again, my thighs clenching and stomach rolling over with effort of trying to stave off that sweet release. I’m mumbling stuff, unsure if it’s actual words or gibberish but Alex knows exactly as he reaches around to take my dick in his hand one last time. He doesn’t jerk me off but runs his thumb over the slit that’s leaking precum and before I can stop myself I’m cumming. My body lurches forwards and my whole body shudders with pleasure as ropes of my seed hit the piano and I should be embarrassed but all I can think about is Alex holding me tightly, breath hot against the back of my neck as he pumps me full. His hips jerk a few times more before he’s sinking into the stool, holding me against his chest as we try and catch our breaths. 

“Do you think anyone heard us?” I mumble, throat raw and voice cracking. 

Alex chuckles into the crook of his neck before a muffled reply comes from him, “I think everyone heard.” 

“Oh god.” I’m burying my face in my hands, cheeks heating up and not wanting to ever leave this room again. 

“Come on darling, let’s get ourselves sorted out.” He’s easing me off of him, both of us wincing in oversensitivity and I sort myself out the best I can, feeling his seed already leaking down my legs and knowing I need a nice, hot bath now. 

Alex takes my hand and leads me out of the room, past a very red faced Shaan who won’t look our way. He leads me down the hall, towards my room but before we get there we hear a shriek from Philip: 

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAPPENED TO MY PIANO!!!??”

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Red White and Royal Blue Masterlist

TAGS: New Tag List Form

TAGS: @clarks-letterman

[thezombieprostitute]

Nightmares - Part 3

Summary: You and Curtis are having to deal with literal and figurative nightmares while working to make sure the Garbage Men operation runs smoothly.

A/N: Reader is plus sized female. No other descriptors used.

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: Family stress, Implied body shaming, SMUT. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 2 -- Part 4

Series Masterlist

As soon as you’re in the truck you grab Curtis’s face and pull him in for a deep kiss.

“Thank you, so much, for doing what I asked,” you gushed. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you didn’t try to step in.” Before he can respond you pull him in for another deep kiss. “I know you wanted to, I could absolutely tell. And as much as I'm glad you want to protect me, stand up for me, it means so much more to me that you let me do it for myself. That you were willing to support me. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Curtis needs a few moments to process everything before he looks at you, his bright blue eyes full of love, “that was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do. But it’s worth it for you.”

You smile as tears start forming in the corners of your eyes. “How is your hand, by the way?” He holds out his hand to you and, taking a look, you see some scratches but nothing bad. Thankfully no bits of glass embedded in the skin. “Good, I’ve got plans for that hand.”

He smirks as you give him a wink, “let’s get home then. Took the whole day off so I’ve got all the time to worship you properly.”

“P-p-please Curtis,” you moan. “Please, let me—oh!---let me return the---right there, yes---favor!” Sitting on Curtis's face, your hips are locked in place by his large, calloused hands. You've tried to break free of his grasp after the first two orgasms but he's holding firm while your strength is faltering. There was a time when you insisted on hovering, not fully sitting on his face but Curtis quickly changed your mind on that. The man was seemingly insatiable for your pussy.

You called out his name as he made you come again. He finally lets you off of his face, carefully getting you on your back, before crawling over you, kissing up your body as he does so. He gets to your mouth and you find the strength to wrap your arms around his head and push your tongue into his mouth, making him moan.

He starts pushing his erection into your core and you pull away from his mouth just enough to make those lewd, pleasure-filled sounds he loves so much. He's learned all the right places kiss, nip, pinch and fondle to get the sounds he wants. Your voice, begging and pleading for more, drives him crazy in all the best ways. Your hands roam to every part of him you can reach. He revels in your touch. Your hands are so soft against his skin. He sometimes can't believe himself to be deserving of such a soft touch as what you give him.

A history of blood, violence and regrets but when he's in bed with you, it's all gone. All that he thinks about is you. How you taste, how you sound, how beautiful you look when you come. Giving you pleasure is his panacea for life. It's not his penance, no. Being with you is no chore. You are his reprieve and he will be forever grateful to you for loving him.

He feels your walls gripping him tighter and he pulls away just enough that he can watch your face as you come again.

“That's it, gorgeous,” he rasps. “Give me what I need, please.” He moves his fingers to your clit and plays with it how he knows you need. Your legs spread even further and back arches as he makes you come. He relishes how tightly you're clenching around his cock, holding back on his own orgasm until he's sure you're done.

When he's able to catch his breath he gives you gentle kisses wherever he can before slowly pulling out of you with a hiss and getting a washcloth to start your aftercare. He kisses you when you whimper at how empty you feel when he pulls out. Another of those soft sounds he can't get enough of.

Later that night Curtis wakes up cuddling your pillow. He has a habit of grabbing them in his sleep when you're up first. Confused, and a little grumpy at you not being there, he forces himself out of bed to go look for you. It's too early to go to work and he wants more cuddles. He swears that morning cuddles with you have saved lives because of how much of a good mood they put him in.

He steps into the hallway and sees you in the kitchen. You're getting yourself some water, wearing one of his shirts, a pair of panties and nothing else. Curtis stops when he registers what you're wearing. He's never seen you in his clothes before. He'd never understood why guys found it so attractive but seeing you now, willingly wearing something of his, feeling comfortable being encompassed by his scent, he kinda understood.

You look up from your cup of water and see him staring at you. “Hope you don't mind,” you smile shyly. “Just...just wanted to try it out.”

“And?” He steps closer to you. He won't tell you his opinion until he knows it's actually something you're comfortable with.

“And...I don't know,” you confess. “I think I did it mostly to get back at Mom and her comments. I've been so scared to try your clothes for so long...” Curtis brings you in for a hug as you find the words. “I...I do kinda like it, though. I think, if it's okay with you, I wouldn't mind stealing your shirts from time to time.”

Curtis smiles at you, “I'm much more than okay with it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says before kissing you. “Now let's get back to bed. I need more cuddle time.” You giggle as he pulls you back towards the bedroom.

Part 2 -- Part 4

Series Masterlist

@alicedopey; @alexakeyloveloki; @bigtreefest; @dontbescaredtosingalong; @fic-reblogs-0-0; @hisredheadedgoddess28; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @texmexdarling; @veltana; @winter-soldier-101

[threadsdemiseif]

Helloooo 👀 I saw your IF (after you followed me - kekeke) and I was wondering for the Deziree route:

Considering the morbid history they share, would MC have the option to feel remorseful about the situation? Like, despite how their relationship went down, MC did (and maybe does?) love Ziree and even still felt guilty for the stuff that went down (But given how fucked up MC is, they're more guilty about the fact they hurt Ziree than the fact they cut their thread.)

Please do not feel pressured to agree or the like if this ask is uncomfortable! Feel free to PM me if you do not wish to see this sort of ask! Because I can imagine MC has an intense infatuation with Ziree since the beginning, up to a yandere point (hence, unhealthy obsession). Does MC feel guilty for hurting Ziree? Yes. But the fact they're the ones who drove Ziree insane about MC? Definitely soaking up the attention. The damage on their legs? A memento from Ziree to never forget them.

Even being the source of hate for Ziree could make the more masochistic MC shiver with delight at having their eyes on them. All MC would swore would be to never hurt(?) Ziree again.

But again, this is just headcanon - feel free to shut this ask down if it's too much!

REMEMBER TO TAKE BREAKS IN BETWEEN!

Ohooo, that's quite a lot of text, but too bad I love hearing what people have to say!

Of course they can feel remorse, dear fellow author 🤭

Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss or Reaping Repent Redemption 

I did not put these lines here for nothing, after all. Though, people do like the psychopath part a lot and I understand how they feel clearly.

There's going to be a choice whether MC's doings are intentional or not. For the non intentional like the one you take interest in, the MC does their actions because they cannot understand the term "Love" truly means. They are a natural born psychopath, after all.

They do their actions out of their interest of their lover and yet did not know that their actions would make the same lover despise them.

You will have the ability to choose to feel grief, disappointment, happiness, or nothing about their capture. That includes becoming obsessed with how different they are from their usual look and swearing themselves to not hurt them any more as they grip and place the promise ring Ziree dropped to be placed inside their pocket safely and kept for years to come. 😋

[sunshinebuckybarnes]

break the rules

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female!reader 

Summary: there are certain rules Lloyd has for you and he doesn’t take you breaking them lightly.

Warnings: pet names (sunshine, baby), spanking (hand and paddle), sir kink, smut; oral (f receiving), mentions of blood and violence. This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.

Author's note: okay this is my first time writing for Lloyd so be gentle 🙈 (word count: 1.9k)

Kinktober 2022 masterlist

You were well aware of what Lloyd did for a living and he had made it very clear that you were not to roam around his home when there were guests over.

The price was too high is what he’d told you. There were too many people that would love to see him fall. 

But how do you take down someone that has no care for anything? If they knew about you and what you meant to him it would paint a target on your back. 

So, you stuck to the rule; when there was company around you kept hidden upstairs. 

And today was no different. You’d been cooped up for hours, waiting for Lloyd to tell you it was okay to come down. You were getting restless and bored and all you wanted was to grab a glass of wine and soak in a bath full of bubbles.

You knew Lloyd conducted his business in his office which was on the other side of the house to the kitchen.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Sneaking your way down the stairs, you manage to move silently as you scurry into the kitchen. Your movements are slow as you open and close the fridge and cupboards, aware of any sound that you make.

You make your way back out the kitchen, peaking around the doorframe and letting go of the breath you’re holding when you see the coast is clear. Heading back to the stairs your hand touches the bannister just as you hear a voice behind you.

“Well, look at you.”

You freeze, not recognising the voice. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact you’ve come down in nothing but a short silk robe. Your mind is racing. You know Lloyd can’t be around, there’s no way he’d let anyone else see you like this. So that only left you with two choices, turn and face him or run. 

In your moment of hesitancy you don’t realise that the stranger has moved closer to you. It’s not until you make the decision to run that you find out it’s too late. Just as you’re about to take a step up the stairs you feel a tight grip on your bicep. 

The bottle of wine and glass slip out of your hand as you’re tugged down the few steps you’d climbed. The grip on your arm and the sound of the glass shattering around your bare feet has you letting out a startled yelp. 

“Where’s Hansen been hiding you, huh?”

You can feel his breath against your neck and it makes your skin crawl. You try to pull out of his grip but it only makes him squeeze harder. 

He turns you around to face him and you finally get a look at him. His hair is long and greying and it’s so slicked back from his face that you can’t tell if it’s product or greasy. You suspect the latter. There’s a faint scar across his left cheek and his teeth are crooked and stained, telling a history of cigarettes and alcohol. 

You try and wriggle out of his grasp again but he just tugs you harder against him. Without even thinking you pull your free arm back and slap him across the face. The sound of your palm colliding with his face echoes around the room.

“You’re feisty as well, no wonder Hansen keeps you around,” he snarls, his grin is wicked and it has you swallowing hard as he leans in closer to you. 

“I suggest you let her go.”

Your eyes darted over the man's shoulder to see Lloyd stood a few feet away, his gun held limply in his hand. He doesn’t heed Lloyd’s warning quick enough, with a deep sigh and a roll of his eyes Lloyd raises his gun and shoots straight through the man's knee.

You feel his grip slip from your arm as a guttural cry comes from him. He slumps to the ground with a thud as blood pools around him, mixing with the red wine that coats the floor.

“Get your ass back upstairs or I swear to god you’re going to regret it,” Lloyd growls, his eyes burning through you and you take an unsteady step back, forgetting about the glass covering the floor.

You hiss as a piece catches your foot and you see Lloyd’s face soften ever so slightly, “sunshine, watch your step and get upstairs. I’ll be up as soon as I’ve taken care of this mess.”

You nod your head, your eyes shifting to the man whimpering in his own blood before you dart up the stairs. 

The minutes seem to drag into hours as you sit on the edge of your bed waiting for Lloyd. You’ve never seen him look like that before. Equal parts pissed and terrified. You know you’ve messed up and you know he’s not going to let you off lightly. 

You startle as the bedroom door slams open and closed. Gasping you take in the sight as Lloyd slowly makes his way through the room, stopping in front of you. His hair is dishevelled, there are specs of blood covering his skin and clothing and his knuckles are bruised. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you start but he just raises his hand to cut you off. 

“What are the rules, sunshine?”

“Lloyd, I know, I didn’t-”

He grips your jaw gently but it’s enough of a warning for you to shut up, “answer the question.”

You give him your best puppy dog eyes, hoping it’ll make him go easy on you with whatever punishment he’s got planned.

“The rules are that I stay upstairs when there’s company over.”

“And why is that rule in place?”

“To keep me safe. I’m sorry, baby,” you pout, turning your head to kiss his palm lightly. 

Lloyd kneels down so he’s eye level with you, his gaze softer than when he first walked in. His hand moves from gripping your jaw to cupping your cheek.

“Are you okay?”

His gaze wanders over your body, noticing the bandage you’ve wrapped around your foot from where you stood in glass.

Sighing he lifts your leg, stroking your skin tenderly as he places a soft kiss over the bandage, “answer me, sunshine. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you whisper, not wanting to break the haze of Lloyd’s softer side, it’s not often that you get to see it, “I really am sorry.”

“I know you are, sunshine,” he coos, placing your leg back down and standing up to his full height. 

“Strip and bend over the bed.”

The switch in his tone sends you reeling for a moment as your mind tries to catch up. Obviously seeing your confusion a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest as he moves to the walk-in closet. You remain seated as you watch him disappear. 

“If I have to tell you again, you’re going to regret it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance and you rush to pull the robe from your body and lay yourself over the bed. You can feel your heart racing and slickness gathering between your thighs at the thought of what's about to happen. You know he’s about to punish you, it wouldn’t be the first time. But deep down you love it and you know he only does it when you deserve it. 

You hear him come back into the room. His movements are slow and calculated and you know better than to try and move to get a look at him. 

“You really scared me today, sunshine. And you know I don’t tolerate you breaking the rules.”

He’s standing behind you and you have to fight the urge to wiggle your hips to taunt him. You know now isn't the time.

"I'm sorry, baby" you begin, a full apology ready to spill when you hear a loud smack followed by a sharp stinging feeling.

You yelp, pushing yourself up slightly only to be pushed straight back down.

"Clearly you're not ready to be good," he sighs, "hands behind your back."

It's not a question and you know better than to argue as you clasp your hands behind your back. You feel the rope tie around your wrists and you feel yourself getting wetter at the bite from the coarse material against your skin. 

“Now,” he begins once he’s done and pulled away from you. Your cheek is resting against the soft sheets of your bed and Lloyd is standing somewhere out of your eye line. “The only sounds I want to hear from you are you repeating the rules for every smack. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” you squeak, trying your hardest not to squirm with anticipation. 

He leaves you waiting. Just long enough to have you biting your tongue to stop yourself from begging. You know begging will get you nowhere when he’s in this mood.

Your eyes go wide with the first hit as you realise he’s chosen the paddle. The pain that radiates through your ass has you biting back a whimper as you stutter out the first rule, “I’m to stay hidden when you have guests over, sir.”

Lloyd remains silent as he delivers another blow to your sensitive skin.

“I’m not to wear any underwear when sir is home.”

The next hit has you gasping. You can feel the heat radiating from your ass and can only imagine the smug look on Lloyd’s face. 

The next three blows are quick as you stumble through the rules.

“Fuck, you’re a fucking dream, sunshine,” you hear him growl, the paddle colliding with your tender skin and you can no longer hold back your sobs. 

“Have you learnt your lesson?”

When you don’t answer quick enough, too busy trying not to choke on your cries, he hits you again.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m so sorry, please,” you cry, you can feel your tears soaking into the bedsheets. Your shoulders are tense, your bound arms ache as you strain against the rope around your wrists.

You flinch when one of Lloyd’s hands caresses your ass. The coolness of his ring feels amazing against your heated skin. 

“Did so well for me, sunshine,” he coos, coming into your line of sight. His thumb brushes away the tears that have pooled on your cheek before he undoes the rope from your wrists. He moves you with ease onto your knees, kissing over the welts and bruises he’s left on your ass. 

He takes in the sight of you, bruised ass in the air, glistening pussy on full show, tear stained cheeks against the bed and swears he could come on the spot. 

“Are you gonna break any more of my rules?” he smirks, his lips dragging slowly up the back of your thigh, having to stop himself from diving in and feasting on your delicious cunt. 

He knows he’s taunting you. You know he’s taunting you. And you love it.

“If you let me come, I promise I’ll be good.”

He laughs against your skin, “so pain as a punishment hasn’t worked, huh?” he slaps your tender skin, “Shall we try pleasure, sunshine?”

You don’t have a chance to respond before he’s devouring you with his tongue and he makes it clear he’s not going to stop until you're crying again. 

Ahhh it's always so scary writing for a new character!! I hope you enjoyed this 💕 as always comments and reblogs are super appreciated ✨🖤

[sharingheaven]

Uncover the Hidden Truths: Why Questioning Everything Could Be the Key to Your Spiritual Liberation

Questioning is at the heart of human progress and spiritual discovery. From the beginning of time, our survival and growth have depended on asking the right questions:

“How did you achieve that?”

“What if we tried a new approach?”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Can we replicate that?”

“What does this truly mean?”

These inquiries not only fuel scientific advancements but also shape our entire civilization. Questions have given rise to religion, medicine, music, professions, and educational systems. However, when it comes to faith—especially in systems rooted in fear—questions are often discouraged.

But what happens when you start to question the very doctrines that are meant to guide you? This is a question I personally faced on my own spiritual journey.

The Role of Questions in Spiritual Freedom: How Questions Sparked the Protestant Reformation

History shows us how crucial questioning can be. Protestant Christianity was born from Martin Luther’s courageous questions about the practices of the Catholic Church. Luther’s questioning sparked the Reformation and paved the way for new understandings of faith. Without these bold inquiries, many of us might still be trapped in oppressive religious systems.

Personally, I remember the first time I questioned the religious structure I grew up in. I was sitting in a church pew, listening to a sermon that emphasized obedience without question, at risk of death and hell. Something inside me snapped. I could no longer accept blind faith and started to ask questions, much like Luther did centuries ago.

Breaking Free: Questioning Faith in Modern Times - When Prayers Seem to Go Unanswered

I spent years praying fervently, hoping for change. Week after week, I would pray, serve, and worship in church, expecting some sign that my prayers were being answered, but nothing came. Instead, I felt more lost and disillusioned. I began to wonder, “Why are my prayers not being heard? Am I doing something wrong?

”Feeling like you're the problem when faith demands belief without question is common. This internal struggle, known as cognitive dissonance, is actually a positive sign of critical thinking. As I questioned more, I realized the issue wasn't with me but with the Calvinistic doctrine I had trusted. My prayers seemed futile under a theology that marginalizes and excludes, contradicting basic human decency. This doctrine impacted those I loved most—neighbors who joined us for Sunday lunches and volunteered together. Such exclusion directly contradicts the greatest commandment Jesus said supersedes all others, representing a serious deviation from the true Gospel. For more insights, explore Calvinism critique and Jesus' teachings.

For many people, questioning faith begins after years of attending church without seeing real change. You might have poured your heart into prayer, only to find your struggles worsen. When collective prayers seem to make your problems heavier, it’s only natural to ask if something is wrong.

Yet, in some churches, questioning is discouraged. I recall a preacher who would regularly caution against skepticism. He would say, “Don’t come to church with a skeptical heart,” as though doubt were some kind of sin. What he really wanted was blind acceptance. But when I began questioning everything, I realized that this lack of inquiry was crippling my spiritual growth.

The Manipulation of Doctrines: Protecting the Ego

Over time, I started to see what was really happening. Preachers fear questions because they worry that if people start thinking for themselves, they’ll lose their grip on control. Whether they admit it or not, these leaders are often protecting their own egos. They hide behind the guard of pride, which is “the essential vice, the utmost evil,” convincing people that questions are dangerous when in reality, they are afraid of losing their influence.

I remember asking one preacher, “But what if Jesus didn’t mean it this way?” His face grew tight, and I could see the discomfort in his eyes. It was a simple question, yet it challenged everything he had built his ministry on. It was clear to me in that moment that he didn’t want to confront the truth behind the doctrines he preached.

When clergy with narcissistic tendencies discourage questions, they rob their followers of the opportunity to find the truth for themselves. The end result is spiritual enslavement, where individuals are living by someone else’s interpretation of faith rather than discovering God personally. Unfortunately, this sometimes leads to religious trauma syndrome as we simply can’t reconcile our values and principles with what we’ve learned is the way, truth, and life.

Jesus' Words vs. Pauline Doctrine: What Do We Follow? - A Personal Spiritual Experience

Recently, I had an experience while meditating and questioning my faith even more deeply. I felt a profound sense of clarity and purpose, something that seemed to fill every corner of my mind and heart. It was almost as if something divine was pulling me forward, leading me into a deeper understanding of my own beliefs. Others noticed a change in me, and I felt different—more certain in some ways, but also more aware of the questions still lurking in the background.

Was this a divine encounter? It felt like one. It reminded me of moments I’ve had in the past, moments that made me think, “Maybe God is guiding me somewhere new.” But those experiences also led me to one important question: What does Jesus really want me to focus on?

In this particular moment, I was struck by the Spirit, overwhelmed into submission, and more certain than ever that God is indeed guiding me. I cried in relief for a good while and shared my experience during this emotional revelation with my aunt. Jesus saves, after all. He cured my nihilistic and craving soul in an instant.

The Conflict Between Jesus and Paul

This experience opened my eyes to a common issue in Christian theology: Why do we focus so much on Paul’s teachings when Jesus’ words seem so much clearer and more compassionate?

When I read the Gospels, I see a message of love, grace, and inclusion. But Paul’s writings, which form the backbone of modern Christian doctrine, often seem to conflict with that message. In many fundamentalist churches, Paul is quoted far more than Jesus, and I started to wonder: Has Christianity lost its way?

For me, the risk of following the wrong path is too great. If my eternal soul is at stake, I cannot base my life on teachings that may not align with what Jesus actually said. It’s clear to me now that Jesus’ words are enough. His message stands on its own without the additional weight of Pauline doctrines that seem to complicate and even contradict His words of grace and love.

Finding True Spiritual Freedom Through Jesus' Words: The Courage to Question

If you’ve ever felt trapped by a belief system that limits grace, it’s okay to question it. In fact, it’s essential. When I started asking, “Is this truly what Jesus wanted for me?” I found a sense of freedom that I never knew before.

Jesus welcomed questions. He challenged the religious leaders of His time, those who used fear to control others. His message was one of love, inclusion, and grace. And if He questioned the rigid systems of His day, why shouldn’t we do the same?

The Path Forward: A Call to Action

For me, I have chosen to follow the words of Jesus alone. His message of inclusivity, love, and grace resonates deeply with me. Like Thomas Jefferson, I believe that Jesus’ words are actionable and true. Jefferson famously said of Jesus, “In extracting the pure principles which he taught, we should have to strip off the artificial vestments in which they have been muffled by priests, who have travestied them into various forms, as instruments of riches and power to them.” Jefferson focused on the reason the Bible exists: The Savior.

And so, I will continue on this faith journey, asking questions and following Jesus’ words until I have further questions. If you find yourself in a similar place, I encourage you to embrace your questions and explore a path of true spiritual freedom—one that leads not to fear, but to grace.

Final Thoughts: Break Free from Doctrinal Control

Questioning is sacred. It opens doors to new understanding, challenges outdated beliefs, and leads to spiritual freedom. Whether you’re questioning the doctrines of Calvinism, Pauline theology, or any other restrictive belief system, know that your questions matter. By embracing your questions, you can break free from manipulative doctrines and rediscover the true message of Jesus—a message of love, grace, and spiritual freedom.

In Grace and Hope.

I formed The Living Stones at a Calvinistic church. I honestly do miss performing.

Such a cool band logo!

[goldenavenger02]

the snaps from the same little breaks in your soul

"Cole, what-"

"Nya told me."

"She…" Jay swallowed back the bile that wanted to come out of his throat because 'she told Cole, she told Cole EVERYTHING'. He wasn't surprised when his fear came out in the form of a squeak.

Nya rested her thumbnail against her lips as she waited for the results to come in from the computer, her heart beating anxiously against her chest.

Jay trusted in the sealing power of his wish but she couldn't find it in her to do the same, no matter how much she wanted to.

Not when the yellowish-green scar on her chest still ached, not when she felt so cold at night that not even her brother's elemental fire could warm her, not when she was right back in that lighthouse every time she shut her eyes.

"No search terms for that object appear in the database." The Bounty's text displayed across the screen.

"Scan for the Teapot of Tyrahn below the surface of Ninjago." She commanded, watching as the text box disappeared only to be replaced with a thick, red line slowly making its way up through the tiny Ninjago on the screen.

She knew that the scans were excessive, that if she didn't stop then there was a slim chance that she could undo Jay's wish, that everything they had done would be ruined and that she didn't even know what she was going to do if she found it.

'Touching it will free him, destroying it will free him and locking it in a vault that gets broken into despite the high levels of security Cyrus Borg has installed will end up with him being freed.'

And yet, something in her needed to know where it was, even if it was just so she could ensure that it never ended up in anyone's hands ever again.

"No objects matching the description of "Teapot of Tyrahn" found." The text displayed.

'Then why can't I shake this?'

"Scan for the Teapot of-"

"Nya?"

Nya looked away from the screen despite the "error due to incomplete search term" display covering the screen to see Zane in the doorway of the bridge, only to be filled with relief when he was titanium rather than rusty.

"Hey, Zane," she greeted as she cleared the incomplete search request error and started to clear out her scans, "I was just doing some research on-"

"The Teapot of Tyrahn?" Zane supplied, looking up at the screen as she clicked the button to clear the scan history, making her blood go cold.

"How do you know what that is?"

"It's a historical artifact that hasn't been seen in two hundred years. It would be more strange if I was unaware of its existence," Zane explained before raising an eyebrow at her, "although, it would also be odd if I didn't ask what caused your sudden interest in finding it."

'So I can prevent it from ending up in the wrong hands, so I don't have to feel like my ribs are being crushed by the weight of poison seeping into my body ever again.'

"Just some research," she tried to shrug off his inquiry while walking away from the computer to make her escape, "we should probably go train-"

She was stopped by Zane's cold, titanium hand gently grasping her wrist.

"I am missing a period of time in my logs," he told her before she could pull away or protest at him holding her back from the doorway, "PIXAL thinks that it is a period of about a month and she is unable to restore it no matter how hard she tries."

'Because the timeline was erased to keep everyone, to keep me, from dying at Nadhakhan's hands.'

"I don't suppose you, as well as Jay, know what that is about," Zane continued, only stopping to release his grip on her wrist, "but I do not want to force you to confide in me."

"It's not that, it's…" she pulled in a shuddery breath that only made her realize just how terrified she was.

And not just of what would happen if Jay's wish was somehow undone, but the fear of losing her life had encompassed her in a tight chokehold that refused to release her.

Nya couldn't be sure why she made the following decision, whether it was because it was either to show Zane rather than tell him or just the impulse control that had skipped over her and Kai's entire bloodline.

"I'm…If you're okay with it, that is," she stopped to pull out the wire that was used for Zane's maintenance checks, "It's easier to upload the data, then to talk about it."

"I trust you."

"Okay, but if you could keep this between me and you-"

"Of course, but PIXAL will also have to know. She's in my head, after all."

Zane's smile and joking tone filled Nya with a humorous relief that made her giggle while she plugged the wire into the port on the side of Zane's head before walking over to the computer, this time manually accessing it.

Once she had access to his memory bank, she clicked "add new memory" which she and Zane had created after they returned from Chen's Island so she could fill in the gaps that his new memory bank had lost before she started typing.

She typed every detail she remembered; becoming public enemies, escaping prison, getting stranded, Jay getting taken hostage and hers and Jay's eventual escape; she debated internally for a moment about if she should add details about his father's lighthouse and about Echo, more importantly, if Echo even existed in the new timeline Jay had created.

But with how that event related to herself getting taken hostage and the new scar on her chest, she knew she had to, even if it hurt Zane or worse, hurt their friendship that she hadn't told him until now.

She hit the enter key and turned to see the scanning reflected in Zane's glowing blue eyes for a few moments before he finally met her gaze, the blank stare quickly morphing into deep sadness.

"I think you know why I didn't tell you now." Nya tried to smile while she removed the wire, even though she knew that it wasn't convincing.

She didn't realize just how unconvincing it was until she was pulled into a tight hug by the nindroid who only said one thing but that one thing still filled her with an immeasurable amount of relief.

"I do not blame you for keeping it from me."

…

Jay bit back a curse as he continued to fiddle with the long-abandoned ray gun in the dark, the object in question throwing sparks at his face.

"You stupid, piece of junk, just work." He muttered, waiting until the last ember fizzled out to stick his hands back into the mess of wires and machinery.

The lamp strapped to his forehead wasn't strong enough to illuminate the white scars on the back of his hands, let alone the inside of the weapon that he hadn't tinkered with since before Zane's sacrifice.

But even though his left eye refused to adjust to the darkness, he didn't dare turn the light on; the last thing he wanted was a lecture from anyone about why he was awake when he couldn't tell them why or worse, to wake up Nya, whose sleep schedule had become just as bad as his if not worse.

He would just wait until it was an acceptable hour to be awake and make himself an extra-strong espresso; being jittery throughout training was better than closing his eyes only to be shoved down deep into the nightmare that had been his reality just two weeks before.

Jay lifted the pliers away from the tangled mess and clamped his teeth around the bright red handles before grabbing the wire cutters and snipping right through the blue wire which protested in another round of quick sparks.

"Is that a gu-"

"Ahhh!" Jay screamed before the voice could finish its sentence, launching himself onto his feet and allowing his fists to fill with lightning that illuminated the room, only to light up his best friend's ghostly face.

"Sorry!" Cole shouted, covering his face in defense even though the lightning would easily pass right through him.

"Why are you sneaking up on people?!" Jay shouted as the blue fizzled out, "why aren't you asleep?!"

"I could ask you the same question since it's," Cole paused to look over at the clock on the wall, "three in the morning."

"Really?" Jay asked as he stood up, pulled the headlamp off and stretched his arms with what he hoped was a convincing yawn, "I must've lost track of time. I'll just head to bed-"

He was stopped by Cole's cold hand around his wrist, effectively stopping him in his attempt at a quick getaway.

"What is going on with you?" Jay tried to answer but was cut off by Cole adding onto his question, "What is going on with Nya? Everyone can see you two drifting away from us, and don't think you can lie to me, I know you too well."

"You saved up for this place? Bologna. Whenever money comes your way, you waste it on junk food and video games. What's really up, and don't think you can lie to me, I know you too well."

"Cole, I'm not…" Jay swallowed in order to try and find the words, to find the strength in him to tell him everything, but the only words that came out were, "I'm not ready."

"Jay-"

"The little canary can't find his voice."

"I can't tell you," Jay continued, wiping his arm over his eyes filling with tears while trying to block the mocking tone out of his mind, "I can't tell anyone."

"Why not?"

'Because I'm the reason all of you got hurt.' Jay wanted so desperately to just tell the truth, to let his best friend in, but his lips felt as if the sheet of metal that had been forced over his face in an effort to keep his last wish from being spoken was once again covering them.

"Fine, you don't have to tell me," Cole finally spoke up after pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand still grasped around Jay's wrist, "but you do need to go to sleep, not just lay down, close your eyes and fake snore until you can keep fiddling with this gun thing."

'That might be the worst idea Cole has ever had, and this is the same guy who tried to make lava with Kai.'

"If you must know, it is a replica copy of Fritz Donnegan's ray gun, the one from Starfarer issue thirty-nine where he goes up against the Kryptamights-"

"Oh, First Master! Just go to bed!"

"Fine, fine!" Jay raised his hands in surrender which finally got Cole to let go of his wrist, "I'm going, I'm going," he let his hands drop only to put the prototype away in case it tried to spark in defiance again, "but you better do something outside of pummeling Kai's Sitar Legend high score into the ground."

"Goodnight, blue bell."

"Same to you, twinkle toes."

Even though he couldn't help himself from smiling when he heard Cole's echoey laugh, it quickly faded when he was hit with the realization that he actually had to go to sleep, in his bed, where the memories of losing everyone to the Djinn blade hovered over his head.

'It's just a couple of hours till sunrise exercise. You can last for a couple of hours.' Jay told himself as he climbed up the ladder and laid down on his pillow, allowing himself to take comfort in the sound of Kai's deep breathing, Zane's loud snoring and Lloyd's occasional shifting in his bed.

Sure, Cole was making rounds through The Bounty and Nya was sound asleep in her room, but this was as close to normal as Jay was going to get until the dreaded training in the morning so he grabbed Mr. Cuddleywhomp from the end of his bed and pulled himself onto his right side.

It wasn't long until his eyes fluttered closed and shut out the world around him, but the sleep he received was anything but the peace that he had hoped for.

"You only have one wish, Jay. What a dilemma," Nya was already growing cold in his grasp, too cold, cold only meant bad things, cold meant dea- "wish me mortal and she dies. Wish her well, and there is no stopping me!"

"You have to make your last wish. You're the only one who can stop him."

His heart was pounding by the time the alarm clock started ringing throughout the room.

Luckily for Jay, the topic remained untouched as he stood in front of all of them with the newly reconstructed battle bot standing behind him at the ready.

"This is the master remote, it controls every single aspect of the bot's infrastructure which means that this stays with me," he stopped to pull out the smaller yet just as advanced secondary remote, "this is the training remote, so you can change difficulty, weapons and speed. Who wants to test it first?"

Jay wasn't surprised to see Lloyd walk forward and slip the helmet over his head without even being asked; he had been assisting with the major improvements after he had been cautioned against diving headfirst back into his usual routine while recovering from Morro.

"Do you know what level-"

"Give me a challenge."

'Maybe I'm not the only one who couldn't sleep last night.' Jay thought to himself while taking in Lloyd's clenched jaw and strained voice.

But, he knew better than to press when that was the last thing he wanted for himself right now, so he grabbed the remote, hit the number seven and backed away to give Lloyd all the space he needed.

Jay knew he was supposed to be paying attention to both Lloyd's technique and the bot's adaptation but he was unable to focus when the ghostly palm pulled him away from the others.

"Cole, what-"

"Nya told me."

"She…" Jay swallowed back the bile that wanted to come out of his throat because 'she told Cole, she told Cole EVERYTHING'. He wasn't surprised when his fear came out in the form of a squeak, "she told you about-"

He couldn't finish his sentence before he was pulled into a bone-crushing hug which made the skin on his arms tingle in retaliation, but he ignored it and returned the hug as his tears made a light 'hiss' against the deepstone armor.

…

Nya hated how damp the storage building was.

She knew better to complain about it when it was keeping them hidden from Harumi, even if all of the clothes, first aid supplies and the perishables had been soaked through and the dampness only made the metal building colder than it was in the harsh fall wind.

It didn't help that it felt all too familiar to Misfortune's Keep.

It had been nearly two years since the timeline reversal and even though confiding in Cole and Zane had been beneficial for her to be able to begin to move on from those events, there were still things that would remind her on how tight that white dress had been despite the extra arms and how tight her throat had been as she tried to get her final words out.

Nya shook away the thoughts and bent down to pick up the drying first aid kit before making her way over to Lloyd.

Lloyd, who was sitting in the corner with his vision not fixated on any one thing as he rested his head against the wall and was more than likely thinking about the others.

Lloyd, who looked so much more like the nine year old in a black hoodie and less like the leader of the resistance.

She couldn't help but wonder if the ache in her chest was how Jay felt right after she had been taken, if he also knew the exact stab of pain from losing everyone he loved all too well.

"You're getting better at hand to hand." Nya tried to break through his silence as she gently pushed back a section of his hair to reveal the graze from the fight in Kryptarium Prison that still hadn't healed.

"My mom told you to tell me that?"

"No one told me to tell you that, and if you remember from my samurai days," she stopped to brush an alcohol wipe over the graze, swallowing back her guilt from the instant hiss of pain, "when it comes to talking to you, I am a shit liar."

Lloyd nodded but stayed quiet as she applied a new gauze pad over the graze and didn't fight back when she started to run her fingers over his collarbones, shoulders, and arms.

"How are your legs?" She asked after confirming that he had come out of the training with zero hairline fractures.

"Fine, you didn't snap any of my limbs," Lloyd insisted, still resting his head against the wall, "can I ask you a question?"

"I don't see why not," she insisted as she grabbed the fabric bandages before gesturing for him to take off his shirt so she could see if the broken ribs were still healing, "good distraction, right?"

"How'd you get that scar on your chest?"

Nya became rigid as her blood went cold.

"I don't wanna pry but I saw it earlier and I just…you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"What, um…" She stopped to tear off the strip from the roll, making a mental note that she should tell Dareth to check the abandoned clinic again for supplies when he returned, "Is there a reason that you're asking?"

"Because you're all I have left of them and…" Lloyd stopped to swallow but Nya was unable to tell if that was from the pain of her taking off the old bandages that Jay had wrapped neatly around Lloyd's torso just a few days before or from what he said next, "I wanted to make sure it wasn't because of her."

Nya gently ran her hand over the purple and blue splotches that covered his left side, relief only hitting her when she saw that the least severe of the bruising was slowly but surely changing from blue to yellowish-green.

"No, it happened about two years ago, long before Harumi."

"Good," Lloyd nodded, his face visibly relaxing, "so, what fight did I miss then?"

"You didn't miss much. Sky pirates, Dijin wedding and a timeline reversal," she said quickly to avoid dwelling on it longer than she had to, "just another day in Ninjago."

"Would you believe me if I said that I was too tired to ask more questions?" Lloyd asked, wincing as she pulled the bandages firmly in order to make sure they were tight before securing them with a few strips of medical tape.

"Regardless, we should probably go again."

"But-" Lloyd started as he pulled his shirt back on, but Nya cut him off as she offered him her hand for support.

"Ninja never quit, right?"

"Unfortunately."

He put his hand in hers and let her pull him to his feet.

She tried not to remember the many times she had pulled Jay to his feet as they trained and he let her beat him, even if he insisted that he wasn't. It made the scar on her chest twinge with pain when she thought about him for too long.

So she pushed it down and held her fists up while speaking, "Then let's go again."

…

It was quiet in the monastery as Nya brushed the electric blue nail polish over Jay's fingernails.

It had taken quite a bit of filing for them to be the right shape after being in the First Realm, but sitting on her bedroom floor while the faint smell of nail polish hit his nose was comforting.

It meant he wasn't stuck in a foreign realm away and not knowing if she was okay and it also meant he wasn't trapped on Misfortune's Keep and fearing what would happen to her if he gave in to Nadhakhan's demands.

It made the Yin-Yang medallion weigh heavy in his pocket and his internal voice pressured him to "ask her now" but he ignored it; he knew that he could find a better time than while his nail polish was still wet.

"Did Master Wu tell you about the mural?" Nya spoke as she finished painting the nails on his right hand and gestured for him to put his left hand in hers.

He had missed dinner to pick up the medallion in the city and he wasn't that surprised that an announcement had been made in his absence. He shook his head "no".

"He said that he's hiring some monks to paint the "history of Ninjago" on the west side, individual murals of us stopping all those people over the years."

"Oh, that's cool." Jay nodded but he couldn't help but wonder if Nya had told Master Wu about the djinn.

"Lloyd's already calling it "the trauma wall", but Kai lectured him on it and now Cole's talking about finding him a therapist which I'm not totally against-"

"Did you tell Master Wu? About the…you know." Jay trailed off, knowing that part of him was still worried about saying the name aloud as if it would summon the dijin right to him.

"I don't think it's exactly an age appropriate story for a baby."

"Fair point."

"Do you…do you want him to know?"

"You told Lloyd, you told Zane and PIXAL and you had to tell Cole for me," Jay expressed as she let go of his left hand, "I just…if anyone should know, it should be Master Wu, just in case."

He didn't want to go into the "what ifs" right now, the two of them were both painfully aware of any bad possibility that could come from the events of the timeline reversal and this was their first date night inside the new monastery of spinjitzu. The last thing he wanted to do was taint it.

"He's probably still awake, if you want to tell him now," Nya sat back while putting away the dark blue nail polish and pulling out a dark red for herself, "it'll be easier if you don't wait until he's putting paint on the wall, but if you scuff your nails before I put the top coat on, Jay Walker, I swear to the first spinjitzu master himself-"

"I won't walk into the walls, promise."

"We both know you don't even believe that." she smiled before shooing him out the door with a wave of her hand.

It was only when he shut the sliding door, without denting the fresh polish, that he realized his mistake.

'Just tell Master Wu about everything that happened when you're too scared to even say names, like that isn't nearly impossible.'

"Baby steps, Jay. Baby steps," He whispered to himself as he started to walk through the dark halls of the monastery, "you can figure out what to say after you find him."

If anyone had heard him, they would know that he was trying to avoid thinking about his words as much as possible. Even he knew that he was avoiding thinking about it as he poked his head in the common areas that were completely dark for the night.

He grabbed his jacket that was hanging by the door and pushed his arms through the sleeves before walking into the courtyard that was only illuminated by the glow of the moon.

And sure enough, the figure of Master Wu that was shrouded in shadow due to the darkness was standing and staring at the west wall that would soon immortalize everything they had been through in the last few years.

"Master Wu?" Jay asked softly as to not startle him.

"Nya told you about the mural?"

"Yes, yes she did," Jay agreed as he moved forward to stand by Master Wu's side, "we were talking and…well, she said…I have something to tell you."

"Oh?"

"Do you remember when you sent us to investigate what Clouse was doing in Stixx? After he escaped the Cursed Realm?" Jay questioned, figuring that he should start with something he had no problems talking about, "but we missed him because we drew attention of the NInjago City news team and when we got back on The Bounty, Lloyd said that he was experiencing some really intense deja vu?"

"I seem to recall the news footage of you and Nya settling your differences and her using airjitzu, yes."

"I know why, Nya and I both do and we've told a few of the others, but we were talking and I told her that if anyone needed to know, it was you because if somehow it didn't work, you'd be able to help us figure it out. Wish magic is tricky and-"

"Jay," Master Wu's hand on his shoulder stopped his nervous ramble, "I know that you two reversed the timeline where Clouse released an evil djinn."

"Who told you?"

"I became very familiar with time travel long before Acronix hit me with the "time punch", and even before the four of you went back in time and destroyed my brother's megaweapon. When I saw that news footage, I felt the same feeling as Lloyd did, that I had seen this before."

"That doesn't explain how you know about…about him." Jay still couldn't say the name, it made his stomach turn and his tongue feel heavy.

"When my brother returned to help the elemental alliance, he told me very little about what he had seen and heard with Chen as his sensei. But he did tell me that Clouse had a very strong interest in dark magic which included the Teapot of Tyrahn, the same teapot that Captain Soto had famously trapped a djinn by the name of Nadhakhan inside of before marooning the rest of his crew in different realms."

Jay tried not to shudder at the name being said aloud, "so the First Spinjitzu Master used the realm crystal to help Soto?"

"Precisely. I was a teenager back then, so while my father didn't tell Garmadon or I much, I was very good at listening in on his private conversations," Wu's brief smile of fondness from the memory helped relax some of Jay's nervous energy, "would you and Nya like for the defeat of Nadakhan to be a part of the mural?"

"I don't know," Jay admitted, kicking at a loose pebble by his feet, "if no one remembers it, how is it as important as something like Zane's sacrifice, or the Iron Doom?"

"Regardless of whether or not the others remember it, it is still a part of our history. And given the nail polish on your hands, the fact you came out here to tell me at eleven at night and the yin-yang medallion in your pocket, I have a feeling that you and Nya are still finding significance in it."

The medallion weighed heavy in his pocket again, "how did you-"

"My nephew is very happy for you two, and terrible at keeping secrets from people who are not the subject of surprise."

Jay couldn't help but smile at the mental image of Lloyd excitedly telling Master Wu about what he had asked both Kai and Lloyd after returning from asking Nya' parents and telling his own, knowing that the green ninja was just as much Nya's brother as Kai was.

'If it wasn't for that stupid teapot, I wouldn't even be asking Nya to be my yang.'

"Yeah," Jay nodded in response to Wu's question, "It should be part of the mural."

"Very well. You should get back to your date night," Wu nodded, but when Jay started to make his way back inside, he added "and Jay?"

"Yes, Master Wu?"

"Congratulations."

…

Nya ran her fingers over the curves in the medallion, making notes of every little scratch in it; she had taken the gold half while the Oni were trying to break down the doors of the monastery and it had shined despite the lack of light in the sky.

Jay's words had been quick, but heartfelt and when Cole and Kai had yelled about his sense of timing, all he had responded with was "there may not be another time"; even though she had initially been confused, she knew that she was going to say yes as soon as he got down on one knee.

Just being pinned to her chest during the tornado of creation had scuffed it quite a bit, but Kai had taught her years ago how to get scratches out of metal with a scouring pad and once she made note of all of the marks, she was going to fix it.

'Two nights ago, I was telling Jay not to dent his nail polish,' Nya thought to herself when she caught sight of her chipped nails, 'now I'm working out the scratches in the medallion he bought for me.'

Nya knew it could have been way worse than a scratched-up medallion. Cole could have died, Lloyd did die even if it was only for a few seconds, her plan about the golden weapons and Lloyd's plan about the tornado of creation could have failed.

It was not lost on Nya that the biggest repercussions that she was feeling was having to smooth out the medallion and the monastery being slightly more drafty then usual.

It wasn't surprising to her that the others had all turned in early, leaving her alone in the dim lighting of the kitchen to repair her medallion; it was actually nice in a strange way, to be able to just focus on the repairs she was making.

She hadn't experienced that since she had been Samurai X.

She was brought out of her focus of running the scratches over the scouring pad to one of the bedroom doors opening and closing with a couple of creaks that indicated that the new hinges already needed oiling.

'That's tomorrow's project.' She told herself as she heard the footsteps approach her, looking up to see her brother heading towards the cups.

"How's Lloyd?" She asked, making sure she lined up the grooves correctly so she didn't scratch it more.

"He's not in too much pain, all things considered," Kai shrugged as he filled the cup with the filtered water in the fridge, "had to give him the "parents don't define us" talk again."

"So not great." Nya sighed as she put the medallion down to switch to a softer pad to finish polishing the sides.

Every single one of them with the exception of Jay, and she knew that he wouldn't be so lucky if Kai knew about his biological parents, had been on the receiving end of Kai's spiel about being separate from your parents.

Cole during their undercover work for the Ninjago Talent show, Zane when he questioned why his father hadn't removed his memory switch, Lloyd so many times whether it pertained to Misako or Garmadon and even her when she was so frustrated with her mom that it made her want to ignore every single text message and phone call that she received.

Kai had always been at the ready with his rare but wise words and a tight, comforting hug every single time.

"Yeah, but he's asleep now," Kai sat down beside her on the barstool with his glass of water, "can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I'm not following." Nya raised her eyebrow as she reexamined the medallion to see that her work had been a success before pinning it back onto her gi, all while a small part of her brain hoped that her brother was referring to something that didn't involve sky pirates.

"About the mural."

"What about it?"

"Oh my-First Master. The one of you and Jay and that four armed genie thing with the lamp! Were you ever going to tell me, Nya?"

'No getting out of it now.'

"Fine, fine," Nya sighed as she rested her elbow on the counter so she was looking directly at her brother's amber colored eyes, the Smith family anger bubbling in her chest, "what do you want me to tell you? About the sky pirates? About being public enemies and being put in Kryptarium? About me dying in Jay's arms? Or just about the evil djinn who tried to kill Jay and tried to force me into being his wife?"

Kai went deathly silent as he looked down at the tiled floor but as soon as she finished speaking, she couldn't help but instantly regret the tone that she had used against her brother.

She hadn't gone into details since she had first typed everything out into Zane's database, she had never recounted the details out loud since they had happened. It made the scar on her chest ache when she found it in herself to look back at Kai's tear filled eyes.

"I-I'm sorry," tears started involuntarily running down her cheeks as well, "everyone else knows and-"

She was cut off by the tightest hug Kai had ever given her, one hand in her hair and the other resting on her upper back, she instantly returned the pressure with her hands wrapped tightly around his torso.

"I shouldn't have acted like that." Nya spoke after a few moments, still engulfed in the hug.

"I shouldn't have pushed. You went to the others in your own time, right?"

"Kind of," Nya nodded against Kai's shoulder, "Cole came to me, but that was because he was worried about Jay and Lloyd asked, but I was trying to distract him and we thought you guys were dead-omph." She was cut off again by Kai squeezing her tighter.

"I love you, Nya."

"I don't think you've told me that in a long time."

Kai finally let go and wiped his face on his sleeve, "me either, I didn't think I needed to say it. But after today I just…I feel like I should let everyone know that, especially you."

Nya nodded, her brother's shout of "we have to go back" as a reaction to Cole's fall and his desperate plea of "buddy, wake up" after they had pulled Lloyd out from under the rubble would forever live in her mind, just like the scarring memories of what she and Jay had experienced.

"I love you too, Kai."

"I know you do," Kai grinned with a hint of cockiness in his voice which made Nya roll her eyes, "I just wanted to make sure that if you wanted to talk to me about it, you knew that you could."

"I know."

"Good, also that if that fucker ever tries to mess with you or Jay again, I'll fist fight him."

Nya chuckled as she hugged him again, tucking her chin against his shoulder as she whispered in his ear, "get in line, Jay and I call first dibs."

[slippinmickeys]

Prompt: shortly after the breakup, mulder comes by to pick up something and finds scully felled by a stomach bug/flu/other non-fatal illness. Things are still awkward between them but also decades of history and love etc. what happens next?

It was all she could do to roll off the couch when the doorbell rang, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and shuffling to the door.

Every muscle in her body ached, her head pounded, her nose was a faucet she couldn’t turn off and her throat was on fire. It was the flu, she had self-diagnosed, and it had leveled her. She had had to call in sick, a move her supervisor at Our Lady of Sorrows had met with irritation rather than sympathy, but at present, she felt too miserable to care.

At the door was — she hoped — the Hunan Palace delivery person bearing several orders of hot and sour soup. She hadn’t had much of an appetite, nor the energy to make herself anything substantive, but she knew she needed to eat. And the phone call to the local Asian restaurant had zapped whatever energy reserves she’d had left. The soup would act as a minor restorative.

She swung open the door, expecting to see Don, the usual Hunan driver (and one of the few people of her acquaintance who wasn’t as tall as she was), but her gaze had to keep climbing to identify the person at her door, and when her eyes reached those of her visitor, she visibly startled.

“Mulder,” she said, her voice croaking from disuse and illness. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Scully,” he said, his face conveying an apprehensive buoyancy, “sorry I didn’t call first, I—geez, are you okay?”

“I have the flu,” she said weakly, as if it wasn’t obvious.

Several expressions passed over his face in succession. For the first time she noticed that he had a small bankers box in his hands, which he shuffled from one hip to the other. She sniffed and he followed her gaze to the box in his hands.

“I was cleaning out the extra room and found some of your things,” he explained. “I was in the neighborhood, and…”

Scully felt her eyebrows raise. Cleaning and Mulder weren’t two words that went together very often, certainly not since the depression that gripped him had forced her to leave him for her own mental well being. She glanced at his face. His color was better than since she’d last seen him, and the careworn look in his eye had faded somewhat. He looked like he was maybe getting regular sunlight and exercise. She smiled, despite how miserable she felt.

“Um, thank you,” she said, nodding at the box.

Mulder gave her a close-lipped smile of his own and took a step forward, sliding the box onto the floor just inside her door. When he straightened, he slid his hands into his back pockets and tilted his head at her.

“Scully, is there anything I can do for y-“

His question was cut off by the click of Scully’s front gate and they both turned their attention to see Don trundling up the walkway with a large paper bag.

“Miss Dana,” the man said, inclining his head at her politely, and handing over her food. The bag was warm under her hands, the paper felty and soft.

“Thanks, Don,” she said and the delivery man retreated back the way he came. Then she sniffed again, loudly. She could feel a trickle of mucus threatening to break free of her nostrils.

Mulder stood in the doorway, his brow a chevron of concern. Without removing his gaze from hers, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it over without a word. She paused before reaching out and accepting it. In the early years of their partnership, he was not the kind of man that carried one around. It wasn’t until her cancer diagnosis that she noticed he seemed to always have a handkerchief on hand, and she had used it to catch the leaking crimson of her lifeblood more than once. Something inside her clenched.

“Thank you,” she said, dabbing the cloth to her nose. And then a wave of vertigo hit her and she leaned hard against the frame, nearly dropping the bag of soup.

“Whoa,” Mulder said, reaching out a hand to steady her.

Before she knew it, he had taken the take-out from her, and was steering her back into the house, closing the door behind him.

“Come on,” he said sweetly, taking the blanket from her shoulders as she approached the couch where she’d been resting, practically falling back into it. He set down the food and snapped out the blanket, gently settling it over her as she laid down, lowering himself to sit next to her hip a moment later.

He reached forward and felt her forehead, his palm blessedly cool against skin that felt too hot and too tight. His hand lingered there, then moved the back of his fingers to her cheek, his touch light, almost a caress.

“You feel really warm, Scully.”

“Fever,” she agreed, not having the energy to expound any further. A fresh set of chills wracked her body.

“Have you taken anything?” he asked gently.

“Ibuprofen, a couple hours ago,” her voice was gravelly. “Might be time for-“

“Tylenol?” he finished for her.

She nodded weakly, trying not to appear too surprised.

“You know I always listened when you talked,” he said. She had no rebuttal. “Where’s your bathroom?”

She pointed toward it and he was off, reappearing a few minutes later with a bottle of acetaminophen and the water cup she kept in the bathroom. He handed over a few dusty pills and she swallowed them down, wincing as they passed through the ragged sharpness of her throat.

Mulder reached down and picked up the soup she’d ordered.

“Think you can eat something?”

She tried to sit up. “I probably should,” she said, but Mulder pressed her back into the cushions.

“I’ll get it,” he said, and he was once again off, and she closed her eyes, listening to him banging around in her kitchen a minute later, looking for god knew what.

It was nice having another person in her space, she discovered. All wasn’t quiet and still and lonely. Even just the soft sounds of Mulder’s footsteps in the other room settled a quiet and cozy domesticity over her space that had been lacking and she was lulled into an easeful drowsiness.

She dozed for however long until she heard the soft thud of a wooden tray being placed on the coffee table near her head. She opened her eyes to see Mulder shifting a few things around on the table, pushing aside some medical journals, and sliding a box of Kleenex and the TV remote where she could reach them.

On the tray was a steaming bowl of dark, oily soup and a sweating glass of water half filled with ice. Next to the bowl was one of the thin white napkins from Hunan Palace, and on top sat a silver, rounded soup spoon, one of the nice ones from her Aunt Olive’s china set. She pushed herself up onto an elbow.

“Thank you, Mulder,” she said quietly, suddenly feeling quite sorry for herself.

He kneeled down next to her and gave her a nod and she had the strangest urge to tip herself forward into his lap and howl at the injustice of her infirmity, of her empty, empty life. She knew his arms would come around her, knew he’d drop soft kisses into her hair, knew she’d feel all the love that still existed between them, love that they both studiously ignored, awkward as an empty table setting.

Instead, she swung her feet to the floor and considered the food in front of her.

“Is there anything else I can do for you,” he asked, “before… before I go?”

She merely shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

He rose, his knees popping as he did so. “I’ll call later,” he said, his warm, heavy hand briefly on her shoulder, squeezing, “and check in.”

She reached forward and picked up the soup spoon and a few moments later she heard her front door open and close and the silence pressed back in, the stillness. The loneliness. She could still feel his touch.

[runninriot]

20 Questions For Writers

i'm a little late because i took a break while on vacation but THANK YOU for the tag @ataliagold and @sidekick-hero 🖤

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

52

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

468,074 (written in 16 months, which is a personal achievement i'm actually quite proud of)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Steddie only for now because these boys still have me in a tight grip i can't get out of

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

thought i'd only look at the stats for the ones i wrote this year out of interest

Liberate Me

Worship Me

Sweet Thing

Tomorrow

You're A God (Be My Sinner)

5. Do you respond to comments?

always!! i appreciate everyone who's taking the time to comment on one of my fics so much. love these little interactions

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

it's 'happy endings always' in my house but the ending of Only Love could maybe count as angsty?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

it's hard to choose but Where The Sun Still Shines has one of my favourite happy endings

8. Do you get hate on fics?

people have always been very kind to me (thank you, people! 🖤)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes and any kind? since i started the The Best You Ever Tasted series i have tried not overthink it and not to limit myself anymore when it comes to writing smut and to just go for it. there's still more to explore 😏

10. Do you write crossovers?

apart from my first ever steddie fic Real Love Is Forever (ST×The Crow mash-up), i haven't written any crossovers yet

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i think/hope not?!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope. but i'd love it if that ever happened

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

no but i think it could be a fun experience although i'm not sure i'd want to burden anyone else with the chaos that is my writing process 😅

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Steddie. don't know what it is exactly but i love them being in love and writing and reading about them makes me fucking happy

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Weight of the World. do i want to finish it? yes!!! will i ever? only the stars and moon know (it's been a year, man 😔)

16. What are your writing strengths?

people have said i'm good at writing dirty smut mixed with deep emotions which is a compliment i hold dear to my heart

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

ugh. plotting/outlining, just planning ahead in general. i always start my fics with a random sentence and just take it from there which has cost me some nerves in the past because i never know what i'll end up with

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

love when people do that. i think it can be a nice way for authors (like me) who aren't native english speakers to sprinkle bits and pieces of their own first language into their fics

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Steddie (any hand-written sins from my youth are well-hidden in old notebooks and will never see the light of day again)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

oh god, that one's hard because i love all my brain babies equally but

We Are The Lifeless Stars (Shining In The Dark) is the one that broke me most

Small Treasures To Keep is my favourite prompt inspired fic (kudos to all of those amazing people providing us with writing challenges and prompts, i love you guys!)

i absoluetely loved creating Vampire Steve's background story in Show Me What It's Like (To Live On The Other Side)

Unlovable is very special to me in many ways

and Monsoon and Harrsion was probably the silliest fic idea i ever had, inspired by Jemma who came up with the names. it was so fun to write and it still makes me laugh when i think of my google search history while writing that porn actors au 😆

that was fun!

feel free to ignore me if you've already done this or don't want to but i'd love to read your answers

@thisapplepielife @morningberriesao3 @steddieas-shegoes @thefreakandthehair @steddie-island 🖤

[sentfromwolves]

Sorry, HBABL and Nemesis are a brainworm now. You fed me once, now I'm back. How much can you tell me about his relationship with Judge? :>

WAGGGGGGHGHHH ANOTHER ASK I AM BEING SPOILED!! ;----; THANK U SO MUCH I love Judge and Nemesis, they make me so incredibly emo. A lot of stuff regarding them is spoiler heavy so I will try to be as spoiler free as possible. Their first meeting is, uh, very intense.

“I’m the devil that ate your ma,” he replied, breath rich with the scent of brimstone and iron, “I’m the beast living beneath the hood of your car. I’m the demon she summoned, the demon she couldn’t control. And I’ve got no heart, little witch, but I’m in the market for one.” He tightened his grip on Nemesis’s wrist. The world around the two of them had begun burning in earnest now, fire raging up the walls, eating through the desecrated remains of the hayloft, the roof and all the sinister bones of children stockpiled in the rafters too. Chaos paced and snarled among the flames, circling the two of them, uncertain of how best to kill the demon that had his master trapped. “Mine won’t do you any good,” Nemesis said, voice razored shrapnel, torn at the edges with prideful malice, relentless fear. “It’s rotten to the core.”

But they very quickly develop uhhh. a one-of-a-kind friendship that might also border on something else.

“You know what,” Nemesis said, his headache beginning to return, “I think you should try.” “Try what?” Judge asked. “Putting that thing in your mouth.” Judge snorted, stepping forward as if he actually meant to do just that. And the rooster’s head fell right off.

For context, they're talking about a magical rooster. Anyways. SO JUDGE AND NEMESIS are two idiots who kind of ran into each other through a mix of chance, dumb luck, fate, and the fact that yeah, Judge did, in fact, eat Nemesis's mother. He's a demon that got summoned by her that wants to devour the heart of the mythical living city he's had his eyes on for about two hundred years. Only problem? No one's ever found the heart before. Thankfully, Nemesis is a True Witch, which means he has a one-of-a-kind power that lets him see the history of anything he touches. If they work together, they might just have a chance at finding something no one else ever has - and doing it before October 31st, when Nemesis's curse will kill him. Judge promises to use the power that eating such a powerful magical artifact will give him in order to break Nemesis's curse, and they strike up a transactional deal that way. However, they're incredibly vulnerable and impactful foils for each other, because both of them are trying to save themselves from really horrible fates, and feel horribly, terribly alone in the hostile worlds they've been born into. For both of them, they're truly, ultimately the first person ever to like...be wholly in each other's court. Nemesis has never had anyone to step up to the plate for him before, and neither has Judge. They're both incredibly fucked up individuals on their own who have a lot of trauma, a lot of secrets, and a lot of negative ways of reacting to the world as a result. But at the end of the day, both of them have been deeply and overwhelmingly failed by the world. Nemesis and Judge both react to outstretched arms with the feral energy of dogs that have been hit too many times, baring their fangs even while their tails wag like a plea. They want connection. They're desperate for connection. But they've been hurt and betrayed one too many times to trust that they'll ever get it from someone else.

The transactional aspect of their deal eventually begins to bleed into genuine care for each other, especially as more truths come to light about their histories. Nemesis learns to care about someone else, and Judge does the same. The thing about Nemesis too is that he's been in survival mode for literally his entire life. He's spent the last decade in his own court, trying to save his own life, thinking only of himself, and Judge is the first person who ever shows up and goes to bat for him and makes Nemesis want to be selfless and want to save someone other than himself.

There's also this painfully personal aspect to both of them where both Judge and Nemesis are too stubborn to give up, despite the parts of them that plead and beg to just be done. To lay down and give up and let it be over, let themselves lose the war. Despite his fangs and his anger and his caustic attitude, Nemesis is built on hope. He runs on hope. He's the complete opposite of what you would expect out a hopeful character, but that's literally his driving factor. Hope that he can break his curse. Hope that he can live. Hope that he can continue on to see another day, another week, another month, and fight for that possibility until he can't anymore.

And Judge is kind of like... his well of hope is empty. He's fighting because he knows how to do nothing else. And Nemesis is the one who gives that back to him, and also, in learning to want for someone else's safety and happiness in survival with Judge, teaches Judge how to get back up and keep going too. There's a lot of ways these two mirror and reflect each other, and I can't get into all of it without massive spoilers, but I am obsessed with them. I love them so much.

“Judge—” Nemesis rasped, but the name went nowhere. Abruptly, all at once, Nemesis had no idea what to say. “Do you understand now?” Judge snapped at him, his eyes cutting to Nemesis’s and away again. “Do you get it, Nemesis? I need you just as much as you need me. Because I don’t know what I am. I don’t know who I am. I don’t even know if all of me is here in this body at all! All I know is that the heart in this city might tell me, might show me, and then—then I can—” His voice cracked. “You are not the only one,” he said, “trying to save your own life.”

Thank you for coming to my TED talk I AM EMO ABOUT THESE KIDS

[lolitystories]

Don't let me down 12: A true hero.

Three spider-man...

Okay, they already knew about the multiverse but... What bothered them the most was that one of them...

Was Miguel O'Hara.

"What the..."

Sara looked at them both, then touched Miguel with her fingertips.

"I'm not a clone !"

“So it’s him…”

"I'm not a clone either Sara, I'm from another dimension."

"Here we go again..."

Sighed the boy, with a guitar.

"My name is Miguel O'Hara, and I come from Earth-928. I created a group, bringing together the different Spider-Mans from the multiverse, in order to prevent anomalies from disrupting canon events ."

“The canon events ?”

Sara asked.

“...Lyla.”

*Yes ?*

Another Lyla, different from theirs, appeared.

*...*

The artificial intelligence froze, then in an instant, it was in front of Sara.

*Boss?...*

"..."

Why...did she seem so sad ?

“Lyla, tell them how it all started.”

*...*

“Lyla !”

*Yes ! Right away !*

She had regained her joy and good humor.

Lyla introduced them to the multiverse, as well as to Miguel's desire to return to a normal life with his daughter "Gabriella".

"We came here because the canon of your world is in danger."

“What is this event ?”

It was strange to see two Miguels talking to each other.

The one who came from the portal looked at Sara, then at his double again.

“We can discuss this in private.”

"...Am I causing a problem ?"

Sara asked.

"No."

They said at the same time.

"If I'm the cause of disrupting this Canon event... I at least have the right to know... Right ?"

Miguel sighed, then asked Lyla to set up Sara's canon event.

What had happened... To all the Sara.

In the near future, Sara's new costume will be hacked by one of their enemies and she will be controlled, by her own costume. Unable to remove it, she will become the prowler.

Miguel will then ask Lyla to create a virus, destroying Sara's mind, freeing her from the suit but destroying her psychologically.

"That's what will happen if Sara tries to become the new Spider-Woman."

"..."

"That's why you can't lose your powers, if you're no longer Spider-Man, no one will be able to protect this world and... Without Spider-Man, everything will be lost."

“This… This doesn’t have to happen.”

She says.

"It's just a matter of time."

"You're lying... You have to… Lyla!"

*...I already checked boss... It's really Miguel."

"I refuse to believe it..."

"It's the truth, however, that no one can change history or shape their own destiny... Everything is already planned in advance, this is how the balance of the world can exist..."

"But..."

“Sara…”

"You're wrong... Nothing is decided in advance, I'm sure..."

"We didn't become Spider-Man because we wanted to, we never had a choice, you should understand that better than anyone."

“And how can you be sure that will happen !?”

“Because I let you !”

"..."

Sara froze and everyone remained silent.

Miguel placed his hands on her shoulders.

"...I couldn't be there for you...And I lost you. I tried to do both, save this world and you. But...I couldn't. I tried to make things right, believe me. But... It's a hero's duty."

"..."

These words pierced her chest.

"So... You didn't come to save her."

Said the Miguel she knew.

"..."

"You just came to keep me as Spider-Man."

"Even if you could save her... It would destroy this universe, I can't take that risk and if you refuse."

His gaze darkened and the woman next to him had an object in her hands.

"If I refuse what ?..."

Sara said, trying to break free from his grip, but he held her tightly.

“Jessica…”

The spider-woman was approaching her with a strange object.

"I would take you with me, you would be considered an anomaly and I would be forced to make the story happen..."

Sara's eyes widened and she took a step back.

"That's what a hero would do..."

Suddenly, there was someone in front of her, Miguel was protecting her from her double.

"I won't let you take her."

The other Miguel looked at them and smirked before stepping back.

"Alright..."

“He gives up ?”

Said Sara suspiciously.

"He's too afraid of losing you. As long as he knows I could come back, he'll protect you. Spider-man will always be there for you."

"..."

“Are you happy with this choice ?”

Sara asked him, before he left.

“One life is nothing, against the destiny of the whole world.”

"...You're really not the Miguel I know..."

She said disappointed.

“But I guess I understand myself, don’t I ?”

"..."

He went back into his portal, followed by the spider-woman. Only spider-punk remained, hesitant...

"...And you ? What do you want ?"

"Easy..."

He raised his hands in the air.

"I agree with you... About whether the future will happen."

“Then why are you following him ?”

"Personal reasons. But... If you ever need it..."

He threw a strange object at them that looked like a watch, slightly modified.

"...What is this ?"

"A pass to the multiverse. If you ever need it... I'll be on Earth-138."

He waved, before disappearing.

**

Back at the spider-society, Miguel was not in a good mood, his meeting with Sara had not gone well, he obviously suspected it. Things would have been simpler if he hadn't had to tell her.

But he couldn't court the destruction of another world.

Even if his wife's life was at stake...

“Jessica, can you take care of HQ, I’m taking the afternoon off.”

"...Of course."

She didn't say anything, she knew where he was going.

Spider-man 2099 left the office and headed home.

“Lyla, only notify me in case of emergency.”

*All right...*

He took the elevator and took off his suit, wearing his everyday clothes.

His house was empty, as always... Gabriel had left for a long time and no longer gave him any news, his parents were no longer there either, nor Dana...

He was alone...

Beep...Beep...Beep...

The steps led to a bedroom, but it didn't belong to him, he had set it up for her, since he never stayed here.

The door opened as he arrived.

Its perfume had disappeared... Everything had been replaced by the smell of the products... The sound of the machines...

He took a chair to sit next to her.

"Good morning love..."

Miguel took her hand in his, a ring still shined on her finger.

"..."

Her eyes were still closed.

In his world... He lost his wife, Sara and his daughter Gabriella, in the same day.

Their daughter was kidnapped by the sinister six and they never found her. Mad with rage and despair, Sara rushed to their lair, to avenge their daughter. But before Miguel could intervene, they had taken control of her suit.

The sinister six then forced them to fight against each other...

And he had no choice... He had to stop her.

Even if Sara was still alive, she would never wake up.

Maybe she didn't want to wake up... And he understood. She was probably happier, in a dream, where the three of them were still together...

Maybe that's why... That he said to himself that there was still a chance, when he discovered this world, where their daughter no longer had parents, he could have... Give her back the parents she lost and then have a daughter again.

He came every day, telling Sara about the days he spent with Gabriella, hoping to get a reaction...

Then everything disappeared again...

“I’ve given up too much to stop now… I can’t go back.”

A tear ran down Sara's cheek and he came to wipe it, before placing a kiss on her forehead.

"..."

He opened his mouth, then closed it right after, before getting up.

*You're leaving already ?*

Lyla asked.

“I had to work, I’ve been away enough already.”

*You didn't even stay a...*

But Lyla spoke into the void, Miguel was already leaving.

The artificial intelligence looked at her creator, her sleeping friend, and smiled sadly.

*I tried... Oh ! I took new photos !*

Lyla brought up a screen, showing photos and videos of everything she had missed over the past few days.

She hoped that one day... When she woke up, she would be happy to see all her memories...

*I'll be back this evening... I'll watch over him, as promised, so don't worry... You can trust me.*

Lyla disappeared, leaving the slideshow to play, filling the silence in the room.

**

Following the passage of this double of Miguel, in their universe.

Things started to change between them…

As Sara no longer had an apartment, she returned to live with her mother while repairs were being made. She could feel Miguel slipping away from her, but every time she called him, he was busy.

However, after several weeks of remaining silent, he had come with Gabriel to help him repaint the walls, buy new furniture, have movie and cake evenings.

Like before...

Maybe nothing was going to change after all ?...

However, something was going to change. There was no need for words to understand that there would be nothing more than their kiss that happened that evening...

Miguel took over the management of Alchemax with his brother, he then welcomed Sara to manage the different departments, while Gabriel took care of research and Miguel of inventions.

He only rarely put on his costume and she and Gabriel had noticed that he didn't do it for fun, he no longer did it to be a hero.

But because he was afraid...

It was at this moment that Sara take a decision.

**

"You don't have to help me Gabriel..."

"I know, I wanted to help you and then... He would kill me if I knew and didn't help."

"...It's not like he cares if something happens to me..."

"Sara... Why do you think he does that ?"

"..."

"You're both broken. What happened was hard on all of us and he knows that one day... He might lose you."

"If that happens.... The other Miguel has never shown up since Dana's funeral. That was almost three years ago. I've moved on, I can't sit here anymore. do nothing. This city needs to be protected."

"How do you plan to do it without power ? And your suit needs some upgrades…"

"Yes... That's why I would like to have your opinion."

Sara gave him the plans for her new costume.

“A firefly ?”

“Spider-Firefly.”

Gabriel studied the plans and widened his eyes.

“This equipment it’s not…”

Some weapons resembled those Dana used in the past.

She had taken her helmet to hide her face and had modified it. Even the wings... These were the thrusters of the board, on which she was gliding...

"...I hope Dana wouldn't mind. I thought...It would be like she could have been there..."

Gabriel smiled, then put on his glasses.

“There are a few modifications to be made, but it’s doable. But we’re going to be missing a few pieces.”

He said to her.

"I can take care of it. It's in my area."

“Miguel won’t notice ?”

"I've already planned this..."

**

The first time Miguel saw her was when everyone was begging Spider-Man to come back and help the people.

She then appeared to save the victims of a burglary. The image that appeared on television was this woman dressed in a black jumpsuit. Her outfit was reminiscent of that of an old movie that Sara had shown her... How it was already, yes... "Tron".

Purple neon lights surrounded her suit and she wore a helmet on her head. She had a voice modifier, which made it impossible to identify her.

Obviously, as soon as he saw her, he went to see Sara, but to his surprise, when he looked out his window, she was at home, watching the news too.

What he didn't know was that it was actually Lyla, pretending to be her, in case he came to check.

This new heroine was called "Firefly", probably because of the robotic wings she had on her back.

When a journalist asked her why she chose to become a hero, this is what she replied:

"...I'm going to write my own story."

**

Things could have continued like this for a long time, but despite what Sara thought Miguel still loved her and he immediately noticed her lack of sleep at work, her injuries, her stress...

He was going to ask her, but before he could, that evening... A portal to another dimension opened and an anomaly appeared.

Miguel only found out the next day that a Green Goblin came to confront them, before being captured by the Spider-Society.

Seeing the videos where she ended her fight seriously injured, he rushed to her apartment, where Gabriel was already.

"You guessed..."

Gabriel told him.

"You helped her create her equipment..."

Miguel took his brother by the collar.

"What are you… She could have died !!!"

"...Did you really worry about her ?"

"..."

"I thought you didn't want to talk to us anymore, you've been ignoring us for so long..."

"Stop."

"What ? Since you decided to play cowardly, someone had to..."

“You two stop… Please…”

A weak and tired voice came from the back of the apartment.

Miguel released Gabriel, who rubbed his neck, before fixing his collar.

“I think you two need to talk, I’ll leave you to it.”

His brother left.

The apartment was dimly lit, just the outside light of the city, through the blinds.

“Lyla.”

He said, walking towards her room.

*Her vital signs are stable.*

She was lying with her head turned towards the window, her wounds had already been treated, it looked like his brother had sent for a doctor in secret...

Her equipment was on the floor.

He took the chair from her desk and moved it closer to her bed, to sit next to her.

Both were silent for a moment, but it was obvious she wasn't going to speak.

"Why ?..."

"..."

“Why did you do such a stupid thing ?”

"To protect the city..."

“You don’t have to do that.”

“So it’s your turn to do it ?”

"I can't be Spider-Man anymore."

"This is not what I mean..."

She said, finally turning towards him.

"Who decides ? Who chooses that it's your turn to be a hero ?"

"I did not have the choice."

"So rightly. You always had a choice, just like you had the choice to let me die the first time we met..."

"..."

“You saved me, but nothing forced you to do it.”

“It has nothing to do with you, each time I hurt the people I…”

"But you forget how many times you've saved us ! Spider-man always saves everyone, but no one will save him... I find that rather cruel."

"..."

"You can't save everyone, you can't save anyone, until you save yourself Miguel."

“I want to save you !”

"..."

"But it seems like no matter what I do, I always make mistakes, even when I'm trying to protect you."

"It's not..."

"My other self told me what happened to your other version, in the universe he was in..."

"..."

"No matter the universe, I can never protect you..."

“Miguel.”

She tried to sit up, but he stopped her, tenderly taking her face in his hands.

"I don’t want to lose you..."

Sara's eyes twitched, but she looked away.

"You're already losing me..."

She said, pushing his hands away.

"If you're afraid to continue living... Then you've already lost me Miguel."

Her words hurt him.

She was the one who was suffering and yet he felt like someone had just stuck a blade in his chest...

"If you're so afraid of what we could be... Then why should we even try ? What's the point of continuing to love each other if we'll never be together ?"

"Sara... My feelings are still the same."

“So try, try to believe it with me, please…”

"...I can't."

The light in Sara's eyes disappeared.

"...You should go."

She turned around again, she didn't want to talk to him anymore.

Miguel stayed there for a few more mimutees, he could hear her crying, but he knew he couldn't console her.

He got up to leave the apartment. On the cabinet at the entrance, he noticed a photo frame.

It was a photo of them at graduation, all four of them...

Everything seemed... Different back then, he was different.

**

Few weeks later...

“No one moves and everything will be fine, okay?”

"Mom..."

"Shut up !"

A group of thieves were trying to escape the police, they had just obtained a new type of weapon on the black market and the police could do nothing about this new equipment.

After their theft, they were going to escape in a car, the hostage was a child and they hoped to get a nice ransom in exchange.

But the one who held the child did not have time to blink, as his hostage had disappeared.

"That..."

"Go get to your mom ! Quickly !"

Firefly had arrived, her wings and her digital outfit allowed her to move quickly.

She then cut off the power to the street, so the criminals would be plunged into darkness.

"There she is... Now guys !"

The first finished his sentence and was knocked to the ground, following the punch she had given him, she then tied his wrists with her purple electric wire.

His sidekick took the opportunity to target her and managed to place a tag on her costume.

*CORRUPTED-SYSTEM-ALERT-SYYZGYGYZ*

"Shit..."

“So, not that strong without powers eh !?”

The two remaining men started shooting at her, they had night vision goggles.

Luciole had no difficulty dodging their blows.

“Emergency protocol activated !”

The security system activated and she was able to attack again.

She got rid of the second man by catching a car in her webs, she threw it towards them and just as they wanted to dodge she captured one.

The last one lost his laser weapon, terrified of not being able to beat her, he decided to shoot, among the crowd.

"NO !!!"

But she couldn't stop the bullets.

A huge web then formed and trapped the bullets.

Firefly's eyes widened when she looked up... He was there.

"It’s..."

But the criminal could not finish his sentence, because he was immediately trapped in a web.

The lights returned to the street, and the crowd looked up to see the man in the familiar suit.

"Spiderman !"

"It's him !"

"He came back !"

Exclamations of joy rang out, followed by applause.

But it was short-lived.

"Spider-man ! Firefly ! You're under arrest !"

Said a policeman, obviously they came after the bad guys had been captured.

Miguel went down and approached Firefly.

Even with her helmet on, he knew she was looking at him surprisingly.

“The city isn’t too big for two heroes, I hope ?”

She sighed, but eventually smiled.

“Don’t be jealous if I became more popular than you.”

He smiled and took her hand, placing a kiss on it which made her shudder.

“It was you who saved me this time…”

"..."

She couldn't answer him, they had just been surrounded by furious police officers.

But as they were about to flee, someone intervened.

"You're joking I hope !? She saved my son !"

Said the victim's mother.

“And Spider-Man stopped the bullets !”

Added another.

Little by little, a crowd began to gather to protect them.

Miguel was surprised, he had never realized, never thought that one day... It would be the others who would come to his aid.

No one had ever...

Firefly took his hand, firmly.

"Let's go."

She spread her mechanical wings, her whole body shone with this purple glow, her hand in his, brought him a warmth he thought he would never be able to feel again.

She shone in the darkness like a firefly, she had approached the spider, when it could have devoured her, but without fear, she landed on its web.

Once safe in the Alchemax premises, her suit retracted, transforming into a small disk, the one he had seen the last time.

His digital suit disappeared in turn, giving him back his everyday outfit.

Just as she was about to speak, Sara found herself trapped, held tenderly in his arms.

"..."

“Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

She began to relax, returning his embrace.

"I've always been here. I won't leave you."

"I know..."

“What made you change your mind ?”

"I think... The worst thing would be to have lost you, without trying."

"..."

"You were right, I don't know what's going to happen, but... I want to have a choice, I want to be able to choose and..."

She slowly raised her head, his eyes were red, she had almost forgotten his look, he was wearing his sunglasses so much.

She raised her hands to cup his face, he relaxed there, as if he hadn't been able to do so in years.

"And ?..."

He hesitated.

"I want to be with you... I want to do both, protect you and this world. I refuse to choose. If our destiny is like a spider's thread, then... It's up to us to weave the canvas, what do you think ?”

His gaze plunged into hers, he saw there, a glimmer, a future... A hope.

Sara dropped her hands on his shoulders and he leaned down to cup her face, their lips brushing.

Then he closed the distance.

He no longer heard anything except the sound of their hearts. The chains that weighed on his back disappeared. The world regained its colors, he felt like himself again...

Canoneventalljeaezag

*Canon event rewritten.*

They continued to kiss, when they separated, she placed kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his neck, while saying sweet words to him and reminding him that she loved him.

He hugged her again.

"I love you."

She told him.

"I love you."

As he was about to kiss her again, someone entered the office.

“Miguel ! You…”

Gabriel was silent, looking at the couple.

Sara blushed while Miguel glared at him.

“Lyla, why didn’t you warn us?”

*Well... Sara made it clear to me last time that she didn't want me to get involved in her affairs...*

She said slyly.

Sara tried to grab her but the holographic woman walked away while laughing.

It was her little revenge for the last time...

**

Lyla observed her screens... In the universe of the Sara who still lived, she noticed something. An anomaly... However, this did not disrupt the universe in which she was.

She had changed history...

“Lyla, is there anything new ?”

*...*

She hesitated.

*No, nothing to report, everything is fine!”

She cleared the data and smiled.

I'm happy, so happy for you...

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