#i can’t believe it. the dots were RIGHT THERE and i just never connected them

[aquaquadrant]

Headcanon time: Dr Atlas' overworld counterpart is the same scientist that created Doc and Stress (also trio trauma bonding, because why not)

Also I can't help but imagine this scenario happening if Tango gets kidnapped and taken back to Hels:

Non Life Hermits: "You're back early."

Life Hermits: "Tango was kidnapped."

Non Life Hermits: "What?"

Life Hermits: *grabs weapons* "Tango was kidnapped."

……. so how’d you feel if your ‘headcanon’ became ‘canon’

[ncttytrack]

Orange blood - p.sh

Your naked body, exposed in front of him, was full of your life elixir, and if he wasn’t pathetic enough to love you, a human girl, he would’ve sucked the last drop you could offer.

Summary: You let Sunghoon use you as his personal blood bag during a full moon

Genre: SMUT, Vampire!Sungoon x reader

Words: 2,3k

Warnings: Blood kink (a lot of blood), Dom!Sunghoon, Sub!reader, Pain kink, Reader almost dying...

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

When you first started dating Sunghoon, you didn’t know he was a vampire. Even though his smile revealed his sharp fangs, his minimal sunshine exposure and the way his skin would be completely cold and pale white, it never occurred to you that he was a vampire. You never believed in mythical creatures, even as a kid having trouble believing in fairies or mermaids.

When he became your boyfriend, it didn’t take long before you knew his secret. You remember it clearly, though it was only a month ago. You and Sunghoon had just become official, the first week being magical with romantic dinner dates and movie nights, all during night time. Sunghoon used to say that it was cozier at night, which was the reason why he rarely met you during the day even after becoming your partner. Suddenly, after the first week, he would go completely silent for a full day. You tried calling him multiple times but he never answered, and a mix of being scared that he was cheating on you, or that he was in danger, made you stalk your way to his home outside the city you were currently living in.

As you walk into his house, you hear painful screams from his bedroom. Sunghoons screams made you run as fast as you could to the room, breaking in to save him from whatever that was causing him this awful pain. When you opened the door, you were met with a horrendous sight. Sunghoon was chained up against the bed frame, which he so desperately tried to break away from. His body was sweaty, drenching his clothes til they were see through, and the veins on his arms and neck were popping out. His fangs had grown twice his regular size and his eyes were beat red, now wide open, looking at you. When he saw you, his screams and cries became louder, and it wouldn't take long before the chains fell apart by his strength. As one half of him wanted to rip you apart to shreds, sucking out the last drops of blood in your body because of his painful thirst, the other half wanted you to get the hell out of here. Away from someone as dangerous as him. As he screams to you to get away from him, to leave the house before he breaks the heavy chains, you finally do. Heavy breaths are coming from your mouth, as you run away from the person you love.

Before he could explain the day after why he was in a state like that, you connected the dots. As crazy as you first thought you were, you couldn't forget those sharp teeth and his glowing eyes. The full moon turning his thrust for blood to the max, especially yours, made you realize that Sunghoon was dangerous. Even more dangerous when you realized that you would never be able to leave him, everything about him drawing your pathetic human self in.

As the next full moon crept up, Sunghoon made sure to make you stay away from him. But you can’t handle knowing what he goes through. It must be so painful, not being able to quench the thirst he so desperately needed to. That’s why he thought you sounded crazy when you came up with an idea right before the full moon .

“No, absolutely not”, Sunghoon says with a stern voice, his arms across in front of his chest. You look up at him with pleading eyes, putting your hands on his arms trying to drag them down. “No, please, I want to”. His hands grab your shoulders, leaning down to look at you eye to eye. His grip is hard, making you wince. “Do you want to give me your blood during the next full moon? That's a horrible idea y/n! What if I hurt you”.

One of your hands grabs his, and you look deep into his brown eyes. His mouth is wide open, making you able to see his fangs, already being bigger than normal for the full moon. As your curiosity grows, your hand leaves his, bringing up your hand to his mouth. He looks at you with an amused expression as you make him gape wider so you can touch his sharp fangs. Your thumb graces over his sharp teeth, making him hiss at the feeling. “I don’t care” You say as your thumb presses up towards his fang, making it bleed in his mouth. When he tastes your sweet blood on his tongue, it drives him crazy, making him grab your wrist to pull your bleeding thumb away. He gulps, looking at the red blood sliding down your thumb, reluctantly licking it up with his pink tongue. He looks down at you with heavy breaths, his cock twitching when seeing your gaping mouth at the feeling of his mouth sucking your bloody finger. He pulls away from you, walking away, not being able to handle the growing feeling in his chest. This was the first time he tasted you, but by the looks of it, it certainly wasn’t the last.

As the night came closer and closer, the moon became brighter and brighter, making Sunghoons thirst for you almost unbearable. You managed to pursue him, now sitting on his bed, wearing nothing, your skin completely exposed for Sunghoon to bite into. “Are you really ready for this y/n?” The moon shines through the window, shining light upon the two of you. He looked so beautiful, already glistening with sweat from his temptation. He examines you. Apart from him, your skin is full of life, your cheeks are red and so are your lips. Full of blood, your sweet blood that he so desperately wants to consume. Your naked body, exposed in front of him, was full of your life elixir, and if he wasn’t pathetic enough to love you, a human girl, he would’ve sucked the last drop you could offer.

You nod your head, giving him permission to taste you, to completely take over you. One of his hands comes in contact with your shoulder, as the other grabs your hair, pulling your head to the side to expose your neck. He can hear your heart beating faster and faster, which makes his thirst grow bigger and bigger. You were scared. He tries to be as calm as possible when he leans down towards your neck, close to your skin. He can smell your scent, making him gulp down the saliva forming in his mouth. What if he is unable to pull away, killing his beautiful saint of a girlfriend. The sweat is sliding down his forehead, he needs to taste your warm skin.

He began to lick your neck, feeling your tasty skin against his taste buds. The tip of his tongue licks a special spot, making you let out a small moan out of pleasure. As he hears your moan he can’t take it anymore. His sharp fangs come in contact with your skin, piercing through painfully slow, making you arch your back into Sunghoon, letting out a scream from the pain. Your hands rests on his shoulders for support, feeling secure in his vicinity. When he can fully taste your thick, sugary, blood in his mouth, he lets out a moan against your skin. Your blood tastes like sweet hot chocolate, mixed with savory oranges. He has never tasted something as sweet as you, and he doesn't know if he will be able to stop.

As his bite intensifies, so does his touch. His hands have now left your hair and shoulder, digging his filed nails into your waist. The way he pushes his nails into your skin could possibly make you bleed, and you try to handle the arousal the touch gives you. He can’t stop tasting you, and when he feels your body losing strength, making you lean more into him, he forcefully pushes himself away from you. He seems to have hit a larger artery, since you can’t stop bleeding from where he bit you. His blood glides down between your boobs, down your stomach, to your already naked core. The bleeding intensifies, and by using your hands the blood is smeared out nearly all over your body, the warm liquid painting you red.

Your body falls down on the bed, as Sunghoon hovers over you. Your skin is losing its beautiful, lifeful, color, and you grow paler with every second. What surprised you however, is how amazing it felt being bitten, making your thighs clench together when remembering the sting. Sunghoon notices this, biting his lips at the sight. “Why did you stop Hoonie?” Sunghoon can’t think clearly. His beautiful girlfriend is under him, blood smeared all over your body making you look like his personal meal for him to enjoy. He looked at the place he bit you, blood streaming down from the wound that he so wished to taste again. But he can’t bite you again, you would definitely die if he did. But he needs to taste you, to make you feel good using his fangs. “You’re too cute baby”

He leans down to kiss you passionately, his fangs making you bleed in your mouth. The more he can taste the liquid, the darker, and redder his eyes appear. The lust for you, and the desperate need to take over all of you grows inside him. When his hands come in contact with your waist for stability during the heated kiss, he feels how wet your skin is from the blood, making it almost difficult for him to hold on to your slippery body.

You feel lightheaded, almost passing out, when Sunghoon begins to kiss you from your lips, down to your neck and to your stomach. His tongue licks up your thick blood covering you, licking you clean, quenching his thirst. His tongue slides down your stomach, down to your core, licking up as much blood as possible. As his mouth comes in contact with your pussy, you let out a crying moan out of pleasure. Your hand comes in contact with his hair, wanting him to continue to pleasure you with his mouth. He does so, making out with your pussy, tasting the mix of your juices and your blood.

The flavor and your sweet moans makes him want to shove his tongue into your hole deeper, digging his nails into your thighs to keep you from closing them. “Fuck, baby you taste so good.” You feel the way his tongue comes in contact with your swollen clit sucking on it harshly, making the only sound leaving your lips being your moans and his name, chanting it over and over again the closer you get.

As you are about to cum, Sunghoon pulls away from you. Before you can complain, he pulls out his massive cock, leaking with preecum, and shoves it into you. He wastes no time waiting for you to adjust, ramming into you with inhuman speed. He tries not to cum when looking at you. Your hair is messy, and your makeup is completely ruined from all your crying. The wound is still leaking, still painting your body red with your blood. The scent of your sweet blood is filling his nostrils, making him needier, thirstier, and stronger. The way that you just lay there, letting him take over you, to completely ruin your sweet innocence. Not only that, but the way you love it drives him to complete insanity. Screaming his name, moaning from both pleasure and pain, from the wound, the sting, but also from the warmth that fills your body.

“Fuck y/n, you shoul’dve never let me do this, I’m compleatly ruining you” You don’t care. It’s almost scary how hot he is. His fangs are completely out, exposed by his open mouth letting out painful moans, and his jet-black hair is glued to his forehead because of the sweat. His lips are swollen and red from your blood, and from all the close contact with you, his body is smeared in your own blood, all the way from his mouth to his lower stomach. You always knew he looked gorgeous in red, but this look was on a whole other level. And his eyes. His eyes were glowing in the semi-dark room, truly making him look like the predator he truly is.

He knows he is about to cum, pounding deeper and harder into your now sore pussy. “Have to taste you again baby”. As he gets closer, he leans down to your neck, sucking on the open wound without piercing your skin, getting a final taste. The taste of your sweet orange-chocolate flavored blood, drives him to the edge, filling you up with his cum. His tired, heavy body leans down on yours, having to use all the strength he has to not crush your fragile figure. He loves the feeling of your pussy, the last thing he wants to do is to pull away his cock from your warm hole, hugging him just right.

But as he can feel your pulse drop, he begins to panic and pulls his cock out of you. His drawer, being prepared if his darkest fantasies ever came to life, was full of cranberry juice. He quickly hands you the juice, seeing your weak hands grabbing it, trying not to drop it. He holds it for you, seeing how you suck up all the liquid, before taking another box. When looking at you like this, sucking the juice he holds, covered in your blood he so desires, looking up at him with the sweetest smile as if he didn’t almost kill you, he knew.

He knew he was absolutely in love with you.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

This fic is for everyone that voter for vampire Sunghoon 🩸💋

[xxblairexxss]

Breaking news

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader

Your Instagram story caused a commotion amongst the fans

ynusername has added to their story

ynusername has added to their story

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You had connected the call to your car so you could talk to him while driving home because you didn’t know if you could see the hair saloon again without crying even more. You put on the signal before turning the steering wheel as you sobbed, your boyfriend’s question left hanging in the air.

“Are you okay? Where are you? Do you want me to pick you up?”

“N– no, I’m already on my way back.” You sobbed again.

“Want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“Yes– yes, please. I can’t stop crying!” You wailed and looked at the rear view mirror before switching lane.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I don’t know what happened but as long as you are already on your way back, it’ll be fine.”

Soon as you took off your sneakers, Charles opened the door and pulled you into a hug. You were no longer crying because you had accepted your fate at this point.

“Are you hurt? What happened?”

Breaking the hug, you took a step back, your bottom lips jutting out.

“What? Baby, talk to me. What happened?”

You twirled and cried out. “They cut my hair too short! How can you not see it!”

Charles’s breathe was stuck in his throat. He had been walking back and forth, waiting for you to come back home wondering if the worst thing happened. This, wasn’t in any of those thoughts he had in mind.

“You were crying because they cut your hair too short?” His voice trailed off as he stared at you in disbelief.

“I have never had my hair this short before!”

“You were crying because of this?”

You glowered at his question and paced to the room, leaving him alone while he was still in incredulity. He didn’t even realise there was any changes to your hair because as soon as he saw you, his eyes went to scan on your body for any injuries or maybe some bruises. It never occurred to him it would be something lighter than the all the scenarios he had in his head.

“Baby? You wanna talk about it?” Charles walked in and grinned, trying to act as if he couldn’t see the glare from you.

“I asked them to trim it shorter but not this short, just slightly around my chest but they just cut it right away and I was too scared to say anything.”

“You still look beautiful though.” He could still see the little dots of tears hanging on your lashes as he stared at you in admiration.

“Liar! You are only saying that to make me feel better.”

“I swear! You look beautiful. Trust me.” He tilted your face to look at him and smiled as he studied your face. “See? You’ll always be beautiful, baby. Even if one day you decide to be bald, I’m still gonna find you beautiful.”

“I hate you.”

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 225,637 others

ynusername how it started vs how it ended

charles_leclerc Still the prettiest girl ever ❤️

username1 new hairrr?!?!

username2 girl we need story time

username3 you should have seen twitter and gossip pages. they went WILD 😂😂

username4 i don’t get it?? someone explain

username5 ppls thought something happened to the couple but they seem to be doing fine 🥰

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 378,845 others

ynusername Smiling through the pain :)

charles_leclerc The most beautiful girl 😍

username1 GIRL YOU SLAY THE HAIRSTYLE

username2 drop dead gorgeous

francisca.cgomes literally suits you so much 🫶🏻🩷

username3 what do you mean. you look STUNNINGGG 😍😍

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynusername, pierregasly and 1,507,6739 others

charles_leclerc prettiest in long and short hair. any hairstyle, basically 🩷

ynusername i love youuuu! 🥹 Thank you for taking me out on a dinner date to make me feel better ❤️🥹

username1 FAV COUPLE IS STILL GOING STRONG

username2 i thought they broke up 😭😭😭

username3 tell y/n to never do that again

username4 i’m not gonna believe in love anymore if they ever broke up 💔

username5 oh to have my bf take me out on a date after i cut my hair too short 😔

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! 😭 Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

[asvterias]

𝖲𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖠 𝖲𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗒𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 ~ 𝖢𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖫𝖺 𝖱𝗎𝖾

clarisse masterlist

warnings: none

pairings: clarisse la rue ✘ black!fem!demigod!reader (daughter of pasithea)

genres: insomniac!reader, worried!clarisse is so cute to witness, reader doesn’t wanna burden her gf with her problems so she just keeps it hidden and hopes it will pass, kinda detective!clarisse x unaware!reader, clarisse is a lovely girlfriend, reader admires her girlfriend’s muscles (SO REAL FOR THAT), BOTH reader and clarisse are extremely flirty with each other, implied mentions of making out, smitten!clarisse, basically heartwarming fluff everywhere

summary: because of your consistent nightmares, you’ve been unable to sleep at night. soon enough, your girlfriend notices, and confronts you about it.

word count: 2.4k+

tag list: @lvrue @kyuupidwrites @xanasaurusrex @urdeadpoet @aurorailvsm @quinnsadilla @st4rzl7 @p0rkbun @star-girl69 @aphroditesmoon @voidashh @lcvved @tinytea-biscut @dearlydarlings @rocknr0ll @nvirskies @k4zuhas-visi0n @marlswhore @anominous-writer @lovelyy-moonlight @thegiganticgirlkisser @thewritingbarbie @apocalypticlibrary @solecitoszn @blackchubbyqueen @mira-belcul18 @sleighingstella @ampitrit3 @mthefae @drlover11037 @ratjoe @mag03 @kroumi @hoku-k @zhivaxo @lacytalks @kazerka @liv444me @korizzybee @mariposa555 @inejsknifes @cherriesnbutter @justintinderlake4 @natasha-took-fall-damage @lixtinystay @2k7-sparkles @importantpotato @laughingcheese037

author’s note: i can’t believe it took me this long to finally post this!! writer’s block had a strong hold on me with this one and i really don’t know why but aye, it’s better late than never right?

requested by a lovely mutual @urbisexualfriend

For the past couple of weeks, sleep was a hard obstacle to overcome. Due to your nightmares, you found it impossible to sleep at night, touching out your tiredness as you stayed up through the night. While everyone slept soundly in their beds, you remained awake, attempting to keep yourself occupied from falling asleep. The occasional yawns left your mouth, but you ignored the notion, not catching an ounce of sleep.

You applied light makeup to your face, hiding the eyebags you gained from pulling all-nighters. Most of the time, you manage to hide it from your beloved girlfriend, Clarisse, but with a few slips up from you and she is quick to connect the dots.

Sometimes, you’d sneak out and head to Clarisse’s cabin, snuggling in the comfort of her arms. Obviously, she didn’t mind it, adoring whenever you randomly visited her in the night, and she’d wake up warmed by your embrace. All those times you cuddled with her, she was highly unaware that you were still awake and pretending to be refreshed when morning arrived.

“Have you been able to get any sleep?”

You knew this question was coming, and you had prepared for it.

“Yes, I have. Slept like a baby, why do you ask?” You answered your girlfriend’s question with a bored sigh, almost sounding like it was rehearsed.

“Just asking.”

“My body’s still asleep…but I’m not!”

“I’m serious, babe,”

“So am I.”

She nods her head reassuringly, running her fingers up and down your arms, “Okay, I believe you.”

You smile at her, pressing your lips gently against hers, a soft innocent kiss. That was the first time Clarisse let it slide, mainly because her mind was still hazy from the kiss, but her other priorities topped that. Little did you know that was all she needed, planning to catch you in the act instead.

The next day was Capture the Flag, Ares’ and Athena’s cabins were against each other, divided amongst the many other cabins. Luckily, your cabin was a part of the red team, well, Clarisse somehow managed to persuade Chiron for that to happen.

“Babe, I need you to keep a lookout. Shout for help if needed or just fight them off,” She tells you, “Can you handle that?”

“Of course, I can handle that,” You grinned.

“Great…” Her smile was half-lipped, tilting her head sideways. Clarisse turns around, looking at her two older sisters, “Monica and Sara, go with Y/N, fight when necessary, and make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”

“Clary, I just said I can handle myself. I don’t need your sisters as bodyguards.”

“All I want is for you to be safe, game or not.” Your girlfriend deeply sighed.

“And I thank you for your consideration.” You pat her armor, bringing her lips onto yours for a quick kiss. Clarisse smiled into the small chaste kiss, melting into it before pulling away from the kiss, knowing she’d be tempted to extend it.

“Ok, but they’ll have to be close around,” She stated, leaving no room for negotiation.

“Fine, I’ll accept that.”

“Now let’s win this thing.”

All of a sudden, the first conch blows, and immediately everyone released war cries and headed to their assigned area.

After Clarisse guided you to your base area, she bid you a goodbye kiss and left with her two younger sisters to guard the red flag.

Making small talk with her older sisters, possibly that being the only entertainment source for right now. Clarisse gave you the job of being the lookout, signaling a distress call when an opposing player came across your team’s territory, seeking to steal the flag.

Soon enough, Clarisse’s sisters disappeared to fight the blue team, drawing them away from you. Clarisse would go absolutely ballistic if she discovered you’re hurt, and she made certain that her sisters were highly aware of that.

After the Ares girls created some distance between you and the opponents, you began to get bored, mindlessly kicking at the tiny rocks on the ground.

Your legs became sore as you stumbled to a nearby rock, overlooking the horizon of the lake. You studied the beautiful view, capturing the entire landscape and sinking to the dirty ground.

Once you were settled comfortably on the floor, you leaned against the rock, surprisingly there weren’t any dents to make your quick nap uncomfortable and bruising. Pulling your knees to your chest, you laid your face on the slope of your knees and slowly closed your eyes, drifting into the subconscious.

Surprisingly, you were fast asleep, your surroundings long forgotten so everything was out of sight and out of mind. It finally felt like hours when you were rudely awoken by someone, groaning hoarsely at the person to leave you alone. Much to your dismay, the person ignored your wishes and continued to bother you, nudging your shoulder insistently.

“Y/N!” She nudges your shoulder for the fifth time.

You hazily open your eyes, groaning as you yawn, rubbing your eyes, “What? What? Did we win?”

As soon as the sleep left your eyes, you recognized the girl in front of you, she was bending down just to face your slouched level. It was the warm loving familiar face belonging to your girlfriend. You glanced at the blue flag sticking out of the ground next to her and everything clicked together in an instant.

“Yes, we did, babe.” The Ares girl boasted, “But someone was asleep.” She glares as you sheepishly avoid eye contact, scratching the back of your head. Of course, the glare wasn’t deadly, not directed at you like that, but there was still some hint of vulnerability.

Clarisse hadn’t expected you to fall asleep on the job, literally, and anyone would have stumbled upon you. The blue team could have taken you captive, and Clarisse would have been distracted, essentially allowing the blue team to win by default while she tried to retrieve you.

“Sorry, Clarisse…” You murmured, failing to muster up your yawns. “Just been so tired recently,”

“Why aren’t you getting enough sleep? What’s going on?” Her tough demeanor fades away as her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

She held out a hand, helping you off the ground, “I’ve been having recurring nightmares,” You explained to her, brushing off the dirt from your pants, “More than usual,”

“But I thought your mom–“

“Look it doesn’t matter!” You hastily interrupted her, waving her off.

“Of course it matters, these nightmares are disrupting your sleep and leave you completely restless.” Clarisse sharply pointed out.

“Usually when I have recurring nightmares, something bad always happens. Either someone or something gets dangerously hurt,” You massaged your temple.

She caresses your face, “So you have visions telling you about the future?”

“That’s the gist of it.”

Your fingers gently move around her arms, admiring your girlfriend’s muscles slightly glistening from the sunlight. She smirked, realizing you were currently rendered speechless by the memorizing sight. You were too stunned to reply, immensely captivated by her muscles, softly tracing across the multiple scars on her arms.

“Hey, princess.” Her tone was sensitive and soft, similar to a whisper, a smirk coiling at her lips. Gaining your attention again with your touch still lingering on her muscles, “You still here with me?”

“Not really,” You cleared your throat, embarrassed that you’d been caught. The smirk on your girlfriend’s face only grew larger by the minute as your hands remained on her muscles.

There was no way she was gonna let you live this down.

"Seems like someone can’t get enough of these muscles," She teases, noticing that you haven't released your grip just yet.

“Yeah, so, what?!” You grumble, rolling your eyes, and dropping your hands from Clarisse.

“Don’t take that attitude with me, angel.” Yet, her tone was still sensitively sweet, and slightly demanding. “That’s the grumpiness talking so I’ll let it slide this time,”

You huff, avoiding her gaze, and crossing your arms in annoyance. Perhaps she was right, your grumpiness was controlling your other emotions due to the many hours of sleep deprivation. Sleep was within your grasp, but your fatal nightmares prohibited you from experiencing the subconscious state of mind.

What was your mother thinking when giving you this power? Evidently, the foreseeing gift through dreams was a great idea but was horribly executed because of the terrifying nightmares and restless nights.

Was your mother thinking about your well-being when she shared this ability with you? Why did your mother give you this gift if it majorly affected you like this? Is she trying to warn you about a future event that involves demigods? Even if so, she could have told you this all in one simple dream, but guess she wanted to be difficult and leave you to figure it out. Pshh, some mom she is! Whatever, blaming her isn’t going to solve your issue at all, you need to overcome these nightmares and seemingly push them aside temporarily. This was your last straw and one way or another, those nightmares are somehow dissolving so you can sleep in peace for once.

Right now, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care because exhaustion consumed you and sleep was pleading your name.

“Babe, look at me.” She kindly inquired and you begrudgingly listened, shifting your eyes onto her. “You need to go to sleep, it’s unhealthy to pull all-nighters. Sleep is very essential,”

“I could if I would, risse, but the nightmares are–“

“Whatever your nightmares are about, I’m sure you can handle it. Whenever you get nightmares, you can wake me up, I’ll be right there, always be your side and I’ll calm you down.” Your girlfriend reassured you, “Those nightmares can’t hurt you, and I’ll make sure they can’t hurt you,”

“Are you sure?” You sniffled, shakily reaching out to hold her hands for comfort. “Do you promise me that? That you will stay close beside me.”

The La Rue girl smiles, gently holding your hands, occasionally rubbing her thumbs over your knuckles as she nods her head. Physical touch was her method of reassuring you, and it was working wonders right now. You smiled in response, getting slightly teary-eyed by her simple touch and reaction which made your heart melt. Your girlfriend was truly a blessing in disguise for you, and you were so very grateful for her being present in your life.

Ever since your sleepless nights had started, Clarisse had been more observant of your sluggish behavior, keeping her inquiries to herself and piecing every odd puzzle together in their respective forms.

Not every odd puzzle piece clicked easily on the first time and with a head held high and a determined heart that Clarisse righteously maintained throughout the whole ordeal. Yes, the tantalizing puzzle slowly became pieced together, giving Clarisse the right mindset to help you during your sleep struggles.

“Come on mamas,” She guided you by the hand, slightly dragging you with ease, “You need some sleep, and you’re not leaving your cabin until you accomplish that. I’m staying with you until I’m certain you’re asleep too,”

“Some people call that being a creep,” You deadpanned.

She gave you a wide grin, gripping your hips, pushing you back into the huge rock as she slightly towered over you. You bite your lower lip, catching Clarisse staring at them, her hooded eyes filled with desire.

“Well you’re my girlfriend, and I’m looking out for your well-being, so no, I wouldn’t classify that as being a creep. I do that out of love and I’d do it a million times if necessary,”

That proclamation would have been extremely convincing if she hadn’t redirected her eyes elsewhere other than your lips. She didn’t even try to hide it either, goes to say how shameless she is.

“If you wanted to kiss me, all you have to do is ask,” You teased, slightly jutting out your bottom lip. “No need for all the comforting words,”

“Mhmm…” She smirked, marveling at your intimate tactic or at your sudden energy to tease her despite your exhaustion. You never fail to amaze her and that’s why she loves you so much. “You’re right, but you need a lot of sleep, and I can always kiss you afterward. I’m always craving your lips but I only have so much self-control because you’re so damn irresistible that somehow makes you even hotter,”

“Such a sweet talker,” You feigned indifference, pushing yourself off the rock with your little remaining strength and reaching out to interlock your hands with Clarisse. Maintaining your conjoined hands with your girlfriend, starting your short journey back to camp, and wandering around until the cabins are in sight.

“That’s why you fell for me, isn’t it?”

“My girlfriend is clearly getting ahead of herself.”

“But am I wrong, babe?” She rhetorically asked, only to be met with silence, further proving her own point. “Nope, didn’t think so either,”

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© asvterias, 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto any other platforms without my permission.

[curatoroffiction]

What You’ve Hidden Part 2

This is a continuation of a story I started writing in response to a post made here. (Which is where you’ll find Part 1 of this story) This is based off of @underqualified-human’s post on their “? Yuu AU” concept, and was really fun to write! I definitely love harassing Crowley. I know I write a lot of anti-Crowley propaganda, but I fuckin’ love his character. He’s such a slimeball and I love it. XD Storytime stops before Idia’s chapter because it hasn’t been released to the English version yet.

----- Story is reader-insert, gender-neutral, and is also a continuation of an existing chunk of story I already wrote. The boys discuss how much they really know the Ramshackle Prefect. That is, until the prefect arrives on the scene and begins to explain themself.

----- The conversation quickly moved from a lighthearted conversation about the Ramshackle prefect to a cautious journey embarking through the group's delicate notions of trust.

"I don't buy it - ___ can't lie. They're too honest." Ruggie shrugs. He's never seen you lie in a way that mattered. You were always so straightforward with him and everyone else in Savannaclaw, even when it probably would've benefitted you to lie. "They're not a goody two-shoes, but they sure aren't about to pull off a scheme."

Jamil on the other hand is now rethinking everything he knows about you. "On the contrary, I've found them to be quite.. Crafty, when they needed to be." He shakes his head thinking back to how you so easily would sneak out of containment prior to his overblot. How you could escape and even collect help. He starts connecting the dots on how you always seem to know just where to look or who to talk to in order to collect help. One could say it's fate, but it was hard for him to believe in fate after meeting you.

"... They *are* capable of lying.. Lying well, at that.." Riddle murmurs, not comfortable with the conversation's route, but incapable of stopping himself from treading into these waters as people talk more about it. "When Ace and Deuce want something kept hidden, they're very good at hiding things from people." His brow furrows as he thinks on the last dorm inspection.

"Well that at least tells us they're loyal to their friends!" Kalim smiles big, refusing to fret. "And that's all I need to know to enjoy their company."

"Are they loyal to their friends? Or are they just loyal to their resources?" Azul once again steers the conversation into the depths.

"Friends! If they were just looking for power, they wouldn't have helped Ace and Deuce when they got in trouble with you, right?" Kalim cocks his head to the side, looking to Azul with genuine confusion. It wasn't hard to imagine what motivated you in his eyes.

"Mmm.. I'm not so sure about that." Jade starts delving into this thought exercise. "Through those two, ___ got a chance to interact with Riddle, which dragged him into their scuffle with Leona - Which was the primary reason it wasn't a disaster. Leona helped with Azul, Azul helped with Jamil, Jamil helped with Vil, and so on..." Many of the dormleaders had never heard of the intertwining threads of their interactions with the prefect, or how perfectly it all seemed to meld together.

This starts to garner some genuine concern, causing even Malleus and Kalim to think on the coincidental nature. It's a little too perfect.

The guys are quiet as they feel themselves consumed with the idea that you might actually be a complete stranger. Someone who has come so close to them all, snaking your way in with ulterior motives. However, they each process the concept very differently.

Riddle just flat out refuses to believe it. He thinks Azul's being paranoid and that you'd have no real reason to lie to him. And even if his overblot put you off from him, you'd have no real reason to lie to Ace and Deuce. No, Azul's the one being paranoid here, and he won't get dragged down with it.

Trey feels like it's a nonsense consideration. Even if you weren't genuine when you first met everyone here, you surely warmed up with time - Isn't that just how being a social person works? No one puts all their cards out on the table without reason. He's got no reason to doubt you.

Leona on the other hand, lets his mind dance on the edge of the idea. He'd seen firsthand how you can change your tune if you need or want to. You're not above forcing people's hands, but.. You also don't really subscribe to the "Work smarter not harder" mantra that it really takes to scheme. You put too much effort into the things you do to be someone who isn't, on some level, genuine. Still, he underestimated you once, and doesn't make mistakes like that twice.

Ruggie on the other OTHER hand figures there's no reason to worry. Hell, he's fake as hell when he wants to be. As far as he's concerned, everyone's got a grift, and it'd be nice to hear you had one too. Even if your friendship was founded on a lie, he doesn't care. You've never treated him like he owed you, and you saved his life from Leona lashing out at him. As far as he's concerned, that makes you someone worthy of respect at the least.

Jade himself doesn't really care either which way. He likes you and is amused by you, but whether you value him as a friend or not matters very little to him. If he wants to deal with you, he will. He doesn't need an invitation or prior rapport. Still, he likes to think he knows you well. Even if he doesn't know your real name, he knows how to poke and prod you to get desired responses, and at the end of the day, isn't that enough?

Kalim's bothered by the prospect. He shakes his head outright refusing to even consider a world where you were disingenuous. Still, his mind thinks on Jamil. Someone he's held dear to his heart since he was a very young child was able to fool him and use him and control him. ... He doesn't like the idea that there could be secrets you keep from him. Still, if you do have secrets, maybe there's a good reason for it. Maybe you're afraid? Or you just need a safe place to open up? Maybe he just needs to be a better friend.

Jamil furrows his brow in thought. He'd overlooked you once, only to be surprised, and much like Leona, he doesn't make that mistake twice. But unlike Leona, he has to care as far as Kalim's wellbeing is concerned. He doesn't think you'd ever do anything to hurt Kalim, considering you once tracked him down to give him treasure that Kalim tried to sneak to you. If you were in it for the money, you'd have never done that. Plus, there were plenty of times that you could have hurt Kalim by now and you didn't. If you were some kind of physical threat, you'd have struck by now. But if it's a power grab, what kind of power triumphs over money?

Vil's not intensely bothered by the idea of you using every tool in your arsenal to collect strength. If you really were so quietly calculated, it'd be something to applaude. A fake smile here, a warm grin there, you're bound to make useful connections. It's no surprise to him that you were able to make useful connections that echoed forward. He finds himself annoyed with Azul's persistence on the matter, figuring that Azul himself has been bothered by this and is now trying to make it everyone else's problem. People often try to project their insecurities onto the people around them.

Rook on the other hand is delighted at the prospect. If you suddenly showed yourself to have a side that even he couldn't see coming, what a rush that would give! Maybe he should poke and prod you more. Maybe he needs to test the waters and see what really makes you tick? People often let the most real facets of themselves surface under pressure..

Idia already had like 20 fears centered around dealing with people going into this conversation - Most of which had to do with them lying to him already. This machiavelean web of social warfare that Azul is painting just gives him a headache. It's like when the business man thinks he's onto something in boardgame club and just won't relent. Idia may not have a high social self esteem, but he knows Azul well enough to not let this get under his skin. At least, that's what he tells himself. It's hard to not be bothered by the idea, but he won't get taken for one of Azul's wild rides.

Ortho's only bothered by this line of conversation because it implies that you could lie in a way that tricks his censors - And that just isn't like you at all! But any attempt to protect your good name is just met with Azul shrugging and saying 'Anything is possible, I suppose.'

Malleus is the only one who is really torn asunder by this conversation. At first, he was offended that anyone could think that way about you, being your fiercest protector in the matter, but then it hit him that you've always been a bit weird. You've never been scared of him - Was that an act? How could he ever really know? He knew he wasn't just a means to an end, but he had no clue if you befriended him genuinely or not. Did you really not know who he was when you met? Or was that a ploy? Whatever the case could be, he's gutted at the idea that you could be anything less than a friend.

Lilia isn't bothered by the idea. He pretends to be someone he isn't all the time. It's good fun! Even people who've spent their lives hiding their true selves in favor of a false self give away truths. He is, however, bothered by the dark look on Malleus' face coupled by the thunder of the rolling clouds outside. "I mean, everyone has something to hide, don't they, Azul?" His tone is more pointed, as though he'd uncover Azul's secrets for all to see if he answers incorrectly.

A shiver runs down Azul's spine at Lilia's sharper gaze, surprising him with the reaction. ".... Yes, but when someone knows all of our secrets, shouldn't we get to know at least SOME of their's?" He looks to the others to back him up, but isn't getting much help.

He can't be the only one bothered by this, right?

---

The group is deep in thought when you arrive. You step into the room and all eyes are on you. Grim gulps from your shoulder, looking at all the staring eyes. Even he can't ignore the palpable energy of the room. ".. Did we miss somethin'?" He asks tentatively.

Azul takes the lead, snaking his way beside you with a big smile. "Of course not! We were just discussing how we don't seem to know anything about you, ___. Tell us about yourself?"

You take a glance around the room, which seems to confirm Azul's claim that the room is waiting for you to talk about yourself. "...." You blink. ".. What do you wanna know?"

"Well, your name, where's it come from? What's it mean? Tell us about it."

Your eyes narrow as you look at the businessman, who laughs off your suspicions. With Azul, there's always an angle. They must've had a bet about your name. Your eyes relax as you look around the room of your friends. Riddle looks annoyed with the octopus man. Trey gives a quiet shrug like 'I dunno why this guy is being weird'. Leona looks more annoyed with Azul than he does with you, but Ruggie seems interested in hearing you explain your answer. Azul is frevently awaiting an answer, Jade making his biggest creepiest smile to the side as his eyes won't budge from you. Kalim looks somewhere between distressed and excited. Jamil looks like he's trying his hardest to look indifferent, but you know by the way he glances at you that he's invested in your answer.

Vil actually moves to shoo Azul away from your shoulder as he takes over the conversation. "Azul's been 'kind' enough to express that we don't know much about you or where you came from. You came here so abruptly, and you had so little to your name in ways of protection. It's still an amazing mystery to us as to how you adapted so well." Quite the improv actor, Vil smoothly transitions you into the conversation with the grace of a socialite. While he's not bothered by the idea of you being cunning and cutthroat, he IS bothered by the idea that Azul might slip up and make it appear as though the entire group is worried. Besides, any chance to get to know you better is a gift.

Rook smiles delightedly as Vil takes over. If there's anything you're hiding, they'll surely be able to sense it. "Ah yes, Trickster, you fascinate with how otherworldly you are! Please tell us more about yourself. How DID you acclimate so well?"

Idia feels sick to his stomach. More social nonsense is piling up. And on the one day Ortho convinced him to come in-person to one of these meetings. He can't just check out and play a game as things are heating up, so he's stuck just looking visually awkward and avoiding your gaze. Ortho looks determined, but happy to see you. He waved when you first came in, which signaled everyone that you were there in the first place. Now that things are getting weird, he's just excited to have a chance to monitor your vitals while you're under questioning, so he can prove to the others that you're not lying.

If you're lying, he'll know.

Malleus looks like he's stuck in his own head and upset over something. Deep in thought - When he finally looks to you, his eyes melt a little and the storm temporarily relaxes. Lilia's more concerned with how strong Malleus' reaction to this than whatever you could possibly hide from them. He does find it amusing that he could scare Azul with just a judgemental glance though, and files that away as something fun to do if the young octopus man's antics cause Malleus or you grief. He's got thousands of years of judgemental dad looks stashed away for such an occasion.

"Well, uh.." You're not sure what question to answer, so you just answer Vil's because he's less creepy about it. "I just did what I could to survive. I'm as surprised as anyone that I've been able to last this long." And it's true - Everything you've done has been on the fly. Ever since arriving in Wonderland, you've found yourself in increasingly strange circumstances. You shrug, sorry that you don't have a better answer.

"But surely, you must have had something - Skills you've relied on, plans you've laid out. Things that helped you survive through the messes you've encountered?" This time, it's Rook speaking up, trying to coax more out of you.

"Not really, no. I showed up and had a flaming monster thrown at me, I held him up by the scruff of his neck and Crowley dubbed me as his handler. I was given a job as a janitor, and I'd have done it just fine, but Grim wasn't having it and threw a fit. We got in trouble for it and got a bigger workload with Ace. Then he dragged Deuce into the mess and we all got expelled.." You recount your first week here at Night Raven College.

No one ever really heard the story of what happened when you got here before.

You were a janitor? Crowley didn't let you be a student? But you came through the mirror! You couldn't even go home! The frustration of the fear that you're anything but genuine slowly bubbles away as they begin to find themselves annoyed with Crowley and his handling of the situation.

"If I got expelled, Crowley was gonna throw me out, and I had nothing, so I had to do what he told me to in order to stick around. We went to the mines, fought an overblot monster that seemed ancient, and got a magestone to replace the one we broke. From there, I was pretty ride or die for Ace and Deuce." You shrug.

Azul isn't having it though. "That explains why you got involved when they had trouble with Riddle, by why did you get involved when Savanaclaw was scheming?" He won't forget that you've somehow endeared everyone here to you.

"Crowley showed up at my door and told me to figure out why students were getting hurt. When I told him 'Nah', he blackmailed me with my food budget."

The room's stunned to silence.

".... Crowley.. *blackmailed* you?" Riddle's the first to speak up, and he's appalled and pissed. That whole ordeal was incredibly dangerous! He knew Crowley was slimy from time to time, but you didn't even have magic! That goes against several regulations!

"With your food budget no less.." Trey looks disturbed. Ruggie's big grin from earlier is gone.

You shrugged once again, desensitized to the idea. "I didn't want to get involved, but then I had to."

None of them can sense a lie off of you, but they're all listening attentively. They need to know more. How do the threads of fate connect you to them?

"What about after that? You didn't really need to help Ace and Deuce when Azul's plans came to fruition." Jade now speaks up, curious. "Surely, if you were scraping to survive at that point, it would have been easier to just ignore and let them fall to their own stupidity. It would even be a great lesson for them, yes?"

"I wasn't gonna get involved that time either - You're right, they deserved a lesson. Even Grim got in trouble there, but I was so tired at that point."

"So what happened??" Kalim asks eagerly, moving closer to listen, like his ears can't hear you if he can't see you well enough.

"Crowley again. Said faculty couldn't get involved because Azul wasn't technically breaking any rules, and he needed the problem fixed. Once again, I told him no and he threatened my housing security."

Malleus' eyes narrow. The storm outside is slowly building again, but this time for a very different reason. Azul feels sheepish. At every turn, you were being threatened and forced into involving yourself in the lives of the other students. So then why were you still so friendly? Ortho's eyes have gotten frustrated at the idea of what you're telling them. He's visibly upset. Rook is stone silent as you have every ounce of his attention.

"And with Jamil..?" Ruggie jabs a thumb in the direction of the long-haired boy from the sands.

"Crowley told me I had to keep the school's heating running while everyone was away, and I barely was able to remind him to get me food for the winter break. Even then, he held it as a reward I had to earn. He gave me a cellphone in case there was an emergency, but the damn thing was on the worst possible plan, and he never picked up when I called him. Kalim invited us to the dorm for a feast, and Grim and I were so hungry that I decided to let him treat us. When we got there, we got roped into everything.."

"But you escaped. You could have just stayed away at that point." Jamil finally speaks up, remembering the events. He's embarrassed by his actions, but he needs to know why you came back.

You throw a thumb towards Azul. "Yeah, but I only escaped because I accidentally flew the magic carpet into Octavinelle, and Azul made me take him back because he had his own agenda. I didn't wanna be indebted to him for the damage the carpet did, and I didn't trust him enough to return the carpet safely, so I begrudgingly obliged and got roped into bullshit again."

Azul looks embarrassed as once again the attention's all on him. This conversation is more exposing him for his shady bullshit than you for yours.

Luckily, he's saved by Vil speaking up once again; "With my.. incident - You were pushed into it by Crowley again, yes?"

"Yeah. Your troupe needed a place to stay, and my dorm was the only one equipped for it. I wanted to stay as far out of your way as possible, but it was kind of impossible when I was named as the manager and you knew where I slept. You whipped everyone into shape, and even pushed me to do my best, lest I find my snacks.. uh.."

"Tampered with as punishment." Jamil nods, remembering the spell Vil had been using. You were in a tough situation, and once again you made the call that allowed you your best chance of survival.

---

Before you can explain anything further, a familiar voice can be heard.

---

"Hello my gracious students! Thank you all for coming to this meeting!" Crowley has finally arrived. Half an hour late. He opens his eyes from his delight to find several people staring at him with malice. He blinks and gulps down his nerves. "... I seem to have missed something." ----- If you like stories like this, check out the rest of my collection in my Masterlist on my profile, or check out my stuff on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuratorOfFiction

[ficnation]

Chapter 5: Bait

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,0k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings A/n: It's been eighty-four years... (unedited)

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

The silence in the room is deafening as you stare at Jack Crawford with wide eyes. The tea you just made would already be nothing more than a puddle on the wooden floor if it wasn’t for Will, who took it from your hands when they began to shake. He doesn’t even blink when a few drops spill out over his fingers and burn his skin.

“You can’t be serious,” you mumble in disbelief, your gaze shifting to Will, who stands steadfast by your side, unmoving. He casts a glance between you and Jack, once, then twice, grappling with the weight of his allegiance. It doesn’t require a genius to connect the dots. “Did you know about this, Will?” Your voice carries a tone of betrayal, leaving Will feeling like Brutus to your Julius Caesar—as though he just plunged a metaphorical dagger into your back.

Jack Crawford stares at you long and hard, and a little guilty. “You’re our best chance.”

“You want me to be the bait.” You cross your arms over your chest and take a step back, furiously shaking your head. “I’m not— I won’t do that,” you protest.

Even if you never expected anything less from Jack Crawford, the feeling of treachery is almost crushing. Will takes a step towards you, and then another. He approaches you cautiously, with his hands extended in a calming gesture, almost as if he were approaching a scared animal ready to bolt any minute now. You’d consider it a pretty funny sight if the situation were any different, but right now, you might just be a skittish doe surrounded by wolves.

When he places a hand on your back, his touch lacks the usual reassurance it once held. Despite any grievances you may have harbored against him, he was always your sanctuary. Yet today, that sanctuary feels distant. You gently shrug his hand off and take a step back. The pain in Will’s eyes is palpable—a deep, sorrowful abyss that mirrors your own heartache.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do,” Will says in response. “You’re the best shot we’ve got.”

“What makes you even think that Hannibal Lecter will pursue me? I find it hard to believe.”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Jack raises a brow, his tone tinged with a hint of sarcasm that makes you itch to punch him square in the face. Sure, you’re breathing, but your sister lies six feet under the very ground you’re walking on. “I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

You’ve felt it too—the lingering gazes trailing you as you tread the corridors of the BAU’s headquarters, the enigmatic curve of his lips as you cross his path. It’s a sensation that crawls beneath your skin, a disconcerting dance of shadows in the depths of your soul. What strange game is he playing with you? 

Will’s face contorts into an indescribable grimace when he hears those words spoken aloud, as if each syllable is a sharp knife twisting deeper into his already troubled conscience. 

“I’m not going to throw you into the lion’s mouth and just sit back and watch,” Will says after a few seconds of silence. “He’s intrigued by you, just as much as he’s intrigued by me. I don’t think he’d hurt you.”

Jack seems satisfied with that. He knows that if Will is on board, it won’t take much persuasion to get you there too. He genuinely believes that you can help them. Yet, you surprise him once again, and he wonders who snuffed out your will to fight to make the world a better place.

“Do you even hear yourself, Will? I very much like being alive. I won’t do this, and that’s my final answer,” you huff out, stepping away from him, even though it hurts—burns your soul.

Will can’t bring himself to be upset with you because your reaction is completely understandable. Your sister—your flesh and blood—has been taken from you, and you’re just exhausted. You don’t have the energy to risk fighting a man like Hannibal, and he understands that better than anyone else ever could.

“I’m only asking for your help, not your life,” Jack says. Deep down, he knows he’s not winning this if Will doesn’t, and one glance at the green-eyed man confirms they’re at an impasse. So, he steps back, granting you the much-needed space. “Take some time to think about it.”

“No, thank you. I won’t be thinking about it,” you assert firmly, your resolve unyielding.

Jack sighs and shakes his head, almost in awe of your stubbornness, but surprisingly not in a condescending way. “Suit yourself,” he says before turning around and walking out of the kitchen.

Will makes sure that Jack is out of the room and out of hearing distance before he sets the mug on the counter and lets his frustration come out. He lets out a long sigh, moving close to you once again. You can see that all he wants is to kiss you, to drown you in his touch the way only he can—but he’s holding himself back, and you know it’s not easy. 

“I didn’t want this,” Will’s words are sharp, his voice tinged with bitterness. “I don’t want any of this, but I do know that Hannibal needs to be taken down,” he adds, his gaze hardening with determination.

You don’t answer, and you can see that Will is disappointed by your response, or rather the lack of one. His disappointment doesn’t hurt as much as it should, and that realization pains you even more. While your brain insists it’s for the greater good to apprehend Hannibal, you can’t ignore the persistent voice whispering in your ear, urging you to prioritize yourself above all.

If you let yourself accept this, if you become the bait that Jack wants you to be, it’s as if you’re letting yourself go once again. Everything you’ve buried in the darkest cranny of your mind will come back to haunt you. And you can’t go through it all again. You can’t.

Will takes your hand, and you can feel his body shaking slightly, his breath quickening. He’s nervous, but there’s something else at play here, and it’s hard for you to discern exactly what it is. His hand tightens around yours until all your fingers are securely in his grasp, and he doesn’t let go. It’s as if he’s trying to communicate something by the intensity of his grip, as if his emotions can no longer be contained by mere words. And when he finally speaks, his voice is so soft that you can barely hear him even in the silent room.

“Can I ask you a question?” Will’s voice is tentative, his grip tightening on your hand.

“You ask a lot of them lately,” you say lightheartedly.

He chuckles at your jab, his hand still intertwined with yours. “I’m serious,” he mumbles, his tone becoming earnest. “Would you trust me... enough to believe that Hannibal won’t harm you? I will protect you from him. I swear on my life.”

Will holds your gaze, and your mind turns blank—his question leaves you mute. It’s been a long time since you’ve trusted someone so much. He’s so important to you that it hurts more than you would like to admit. This isn’t the Will Graham from just a few minutes ago—loyal to Jack’s dictations and ideas. This is Will Graham—your love, your best friend. And right now, you’d trust him with your life.

“I will do it,” you mumble out, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. You look him straight in the eyes and repeat it a little louder. “I will do my best.”

Will lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and he pulls you close to him once more so that your lips almost touch his jaw—almost. His fingers travel through your hair, and his other hand grips at the back of your sweater. There’s nothing more intimate than this—the quiet understanding between you two. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Thank you,” his voice is a murmur—a promise, a secret shared, something intimate amidst all of this madness.

“I’m not doing it for Crawford or anyone else. I’m doing it for you, for my sister…”

“I know, love,” Will mumbles, his voice still as soft as ever. “I know.”

Silence sets in, with only the sound of you and Will breathing—in tandem with each other. It’s like a peaceful moment in between the chaos, where a thousand thoughts are all trying to fight for space in your head, but your focus is right here, right now, and it’s only you two.

The world doesn’t feel quite so dark when you’re here—when you’re with Will.

That night Will tells you to wear something nice and elegant, not too revealing. You don’t question him, changing into one of the few dresses you have in your suitcases. It’s pine green, the satin fabric fits almost like a second skin. There’s something about wearing this dress that makes you feel like you’re ready to take on whatever comes your way.

There’s also something about it that makes you excited to see Will’s face when he lays eyes on you. You know that he’ll love it and just a few minutes later his expression proves you were right.

“You look... ravishing,” Will whispers, his eyes locked on you. You can tell that he’s speechless by the way he blinks, almost too surprised by your appearance. 

“You don’t think it’s too much?” you mumble, feeling slightly embarrassed by how much you anticipated his reaction. 

“It’s perfect,” he tells you, and you take a deep breath and walk across the room to kiss his lips. You take it slow and give a little bite at the end—just to see his reaction.

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” Will mumbles, his voice already a little lower than before. He can feel your lips sliding away, as if they’re a temptation that’s almost impossible to resist. The kiss was short, but Will knows he enjoyed it more than a little bit. 

“I might just do it again,” you warn him, and you move close to his ear to whisper some words that make your body shiver and his skin break out in goosebumps. “We need to finish that dinner fast. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sit next to you and keep my hands to myself.”

Will swallows hard, his heart beating quicker, as he looks down at you. Your words are enough to render him speechless. He can’t find his voice to reply. It’d be too easy to pull you into his mind and act on both of your instincts. The mere thought of it makes him so nervous, so hungry, and so eager. When he finally speaks, it’s in a low, desperate tone that sounds far away. 

“You make my blood boil.”

Standing in front of Hannibal Lecter’s house, flanked by Will and Jack, feels like the most daunting task you’ve ever faced. The weight of impending decisions hangs heavy in the air, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re on the verge of unraveling your own life once again. Your nerves are frayed, betraying the facade of composure you strive to maintain. Fear grips you tightly, its icy fingers coiling around your heart, as uncertainty clouds your thoughts. Every step closer to that imposing threshold feels like a leap into the unknown, leaving you teetering on the edge of a precipice. You steel yourself for what lies ahead, hoping against hope that your resolve won’t crumble under the weight of doubt.

Jack stands silently next to you, his expression cold and his eyes piercing you from time to time in a way that’s unnerving. His mere presence sends shivers down your spine. You glance at Will, who appears just as uncertain as you, if not more so. While the decision to help take down Hannibal doesn’t seem to trouble him, the thought of involving you in this dangerous endeavor clearly weighs heavily on his mind. What he’s asking you to endure and the risks involved make him flinch as much as they make your stomach churn with dread.

Will’s fingers slide in between yours, a silent promise that he won’t leave your side. You can almost feel his heart beating wildly, mirroring your own, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, focusing solely on the person about to open the door.

The door swings open, welcoming you into a home that’s as stunning inside as it is outside. But the beauty of the surroundings fades into insignificance as you lay eyes on the Hannibal Lecter standing before you. Suddenly, you find it impossible to meet anyone else’s gaze but his, your surroundings fading into a thick fog as his presence commands your attention.

Hannibal looks at you—your body, your hair, your face, everything. His gaze sweeps over you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed, as if he’s peeling back the layers of your carefully constructed facade. You swear he sees right through you, leaving no detail unnoticed and no fraction of space untouched by his scrutiny. It’s unnerving, the way he seems to perceive not just the person in front of him, but the one behind the delicate mask you’ve crafted.

Your heart rate skyrockets as his gaze lingers, and it takes all your willpower and courage to maintain a neutral expression, to keep the tremor of fear from showing on your face.

Before you can fully absorb the image of him, Jack steps forward, breaking the painful silence. “Dr. Lecter,” he speaks in a stern voice, then turns to look at you, acting as the bridge between you and the stranger.

“Ms. Avant,” Hannibal’s voice is as smooth and elegant as you’ve always heard it to be. His tone is polite but distant, prompting you to remember to smile in order to appear normal. Will’s fingers squeeze yours in a silent display of support, conveying his discontent with the arrangement. But you both know there’s little you can do about it.

“It’s actually Mrs. Graham now,” you correct him, but immediately regret it when his eyes widen subtly—a reaction you barely catch. It seems Will has kept this information to himself. “But you can still call me Agent Avant. It’ll save the confusion around the BAU.”

Hannibal gives you a small smile, but your comment seems to have thrown him off balance. Your response is far more cordial than he was expecting, and he appears almost amused by the unexpected turn of events. He exchanges a glance with Jack before turning his gaze back to you.

“I’ll do as you ask,” he replies, his tone tinged with curiosity—but beneath the surface, there’s an undertone of something darker lurking. As he takes your hand in his and squeezes gently, a shiver runs down your spine.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Your hands are damp, your throat feels sore and dry, and you struggle to calm your racing mind. “Thank you for the invitation, Doctor Lecter,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hannibal takes in your statement but doesn’t offer any reply. He maintains his hold on your hands, his grip slightly tighter than before. Despite the warmth and firmness of his touch, you can’t shake off the unsettling feeling that lingers.

His gaze locks onto yours, and you feel yourself being drawn into the depths of his eyes. It’s as if he’s peering into your very soul, and you find it difficult to tear your gaze away. You’re on the verge of melting under his intense scrutiny when you manage to spare a quick glance at Will, whose expression remains impassive, betraying little of what he might be feeling. 

A moment passes as you struggle to fend off the creeping anxiety, attempting to find some semblance of calm within yourself. Then, Will releases a breath and strides forward, heading towards the open door. Without hesitation, you follow in his footsteps.

Hannibal casts one last glance in your direction before turning away, ushering you into his home. As you step inside, you’re greeted by the sight of luxurious furniture and intricate decorations adorning the space. The room exudes opulence, almost resembling a palace rather than the abode of a mere man.

“He’s a man of taste,” Jack remarks, his words breaking the silence. You sense that he’s directing the observation at you, a detail that would be inconsequential under different circumstances.

You nod in acknowledgment, allowing your thoughts to drift as you proceed further into the house.

“It’s all very... extravagant,” is what you say next, and what you don’t add is how there’s a faint sense of emptiness in this house despite all the details and decorations. It’s almost chilling.

“I do favor extravagance and elegance in my lifestyle,” Hannibal agrees, his gaze darting carefully between you and Will. Surprisingly, he doesn’t appear to be perturbed by Jack Crawford’s presence as much as you anticipated.

“I’ve noticed that,” a whisper slips from your lips inadvertently. The comment was meant to remain in your thoughts, but the words escape on their own accord. You glance away momentarily, hoping the remark will go unnoticed, but Hannibal catches it without hesitation. He smiles at you, almost as if you’ve just paid him a compliment.

“Oh, you have?” Hannibal’s voice is smooth and pleasant, its seductive undertones causing a flush to rise to your cheeks.

You offer a delicate smile in response, opting not to elaborate further as Hannibal leads you to the dining room. The table is expansive, perfectly set to accommodate everyone present. A bottle of wine rests in the center, surrounded by meticulously arranged plates, utensils, glasses, and other accouterments—everything impeccably placed without a single detail out of order.

As Hannibal offers you a seat, the mere thought of sitting so close to him sends a shudder down your spine. It’s as if you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body as he settles into the head of the table. Your breath becomes heavy, your heart quickens its pace, and your mind races with a flurry of thoughts and emotions.

You notice every detail of his demeanor—the elegant curve of his fingers around the stem of his glass, the subtle curl of his lips, the intensity of his gaze when it lingers on yours for just a moment too long. It’s all so captivating, yet simultaneously overwhelming, causing a weakness to settle in the pit of your stomach. You find yourself averting your gaze multiple times, attempting to break free from the enchanting spell he seems to cast over your mind.

Beside you, Will’s expression remains impassive, but you can sense that he, too, is attuned to every nuance of Hannibal’s behavior.

As Hannibal disappears into the kitchen to bring out the food, you exhale a sigh of relief, though you can’t shake the fear that he might hear it all the way from the kitchen.

You cast a glance at Will, hoping for some distraction from the overwhelming intensity of the moment. However, his expression remains unchanged, revealing nothing of what might be running through his mind. It’s as if he’s closed off his thoughts, leaving you with no insight into his inner turmoil.

You feel trapped in the most claustrophobic way imaginable. Hannibal’s presence consumes your thoughts entirely—his smile, his breath, his voice, his touch—all of it overwhelms your senses. Even the mere scent of him sends shivers down your spine. You’re engulfed by the intensity of the situation, wondering how you’ll manage to make it through the dinner.

When Hannibal returns and places the fish on the table between Jack and Will, you notice a flicker of relief pass between them as they exchange a glance.

“Truite saumonee au bleau with vegetables and broth, served with hollandaise sauce on the side,” Hannibal presents the dish with a flourish, the delicate aroma wafting enticingly through the air. “Beautiful fish, Will,” he adds, his tone carrying a hint of admiration for the culinary creation before you.

“It was my turn to provide the meat,” Will interjects, his words carrying a deeper meaning than mere culinary discussion.

“More flavorful and firm than farmed specimens. I find the trout to be a very Nietzschean fish. Trials of his wild existence find their way into the flavor of the flesh,” Hannibal comments, before serving the food and taking his seat at the head of the table. “I hope ‘providing the meat’ doesn’t mean you still harbor doubts about what I serve at my table.”

You try to maintain an appearance of composure, despite feeling like a nervous wreck. Taking a deep breath, you hold it in for a moment before releasing it slowly. Casting your gaze down at your plate, you decide to focus on eating—it’s the least you can do to occupy yourself in this tense atmosphere. Picking up your fork, you take bite after bite of the fish, though you find that everything seems to lack flavor, despite its deliciousness.

Will remains silent, his expression unreadable.

Jack chuckles dryly before speaking on Will’s behalf. “No doubts, Dr. Lecter. Only the wounds we dealt each other before we got to the truth.”

You can’t fully grasp what either of them has said, as your mind is consumed by other thoughts. You feel Hannibal’s gaze fixed on you as you eat, his eyes attentively observing your every movement.

He doesn’t appear irritated by your slow pace or lack of enthusiasm, yet there’s something about his stare that compels you to rush through your meal just to make it stop. The scent of the food is almost like his breath in your nose, the taste of it feels like his lips, and when you take a bite, you almost expect him to lean over and take it from your mouth.

“Which is why we need to move past apologies and forgiveness,” Hannibal responds finally, his voice carrying a weight of conviction. As Will’s eyes catch his stare on you, Hannibal continues, “Chilton has many victims besides the dead.”

“That’s precisely our intention,” you assert, drawing all eyes towards you as you speak up with determination.

Everyone falls into a momentary silence, the weight of their gazes palpable as tension simmers in the air. Will’s eyes remain fixed on you, his expression one of approval as he acknowledges your firmness and confidence.

“We will absorb this experience, and it will change us. We are all Nietzschean fish in that regard,” Hannibal continues, his words punctuated by a subtle undertone of philosophical reflection.

“Makes us tastier,” Will interjects with a touch of humor, prompting you to gently kick him underneath the table.

Hannibal cracks a dry smile at Will’s comment, his demeanor retaining an air of sophistication as he sets his cutlery down on the plate and folds his hands in front of him.

“I would say it adds depth to our flavor,” he remarks, his words flowing from his lips with a smooth and velvety ease that seems to echo the rhythm of your heartbeat. The air in the room seems to pause for a moment, awaiting a reaction from someone, but you remain focused on your plate, determined to ignore the intensity of his stare until the end of the dinner.

The rest of the meal passes by in a blur. Hannibal maintains his role as the perfect host, his demeanor poised and gracious. Jack remains true to his usual self, engaging in conversation and observing the proceedings with his characteristic vigilance.

However, you can’t shake the feeling that something is amiss. Will, typically a key player in any plan, seems oddly detached, failing to fully engage in his part of the strategy. His silence speaks volumes, leaving you with a sense of unease as you try to decipher his intentions.

Reluctantly, Jack gathers his things and bids his farewell, leaving you and Will alone with Hannibal at the table. Hannibal, ever the gracious host, proposes another glass of wine, his gaze lingering on you both with a hint of intrigue.

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 13

Chapter Summary: As you all attempt to connect the dots of the gruesome murders occurring around your small but sinister town, secrets start to spill when Steve realizes you’ve been keeping things from him.

Content Warning: violence, descriptive details of Chrissy’s murder, scary upside down shit, swearing (maybe that should have preceded the previous warning), arguing, guilt and trauma

Word Count: 7.2k

Author’s Note: Ahhh! I’m so excited to be getting this chapter out! Again, sorry it took longer than usual…college is kicking my ass and syllabus week is not syllabus week-ing (kind of bullshit if you ask me). Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I can’t wait to see what y’all think!

Message me if you want to be added to the taglist to get updates when the next chapter is posted…I’d highly recommend it if you want to follow the story since I don’t have a definite posting schedule :)

Series Masterlist | Chapter 12 | Next Part

***

Once you had caught up to the police cars, to your horror, you were met with the sight of a body covered in a white sheet in the middle of the road. Nancy was there talking to a police officer and when she had noticed the five of you there, she quickly finished her conversation with the officer.

Now, you were all sitting at a picnic table in the trailer park, debriefing over everything you knew thus far. Your head was spinning hearing it all over again. Even though you didn’t feel quite ready to handle it, you knew that you had to. You looked around at your friends sitting beside you at the table and thought about how you were all just victims of circumstance.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Nancy finally spoke up after Dustin’s explanation.

“It’s just a theory,” Dustin replied.

“No, Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense. I mean, why them?” She shook her head as she said it. You wondered how Nancy was feeling. Knowing how much she had struggled with Barb’s death, you wondered if Fred’s was impacting her similarly.

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place?” You suggested. “I mean, they were both at the game…and near the trailer park,” you added, trying to find any and all connections you could possibly make. I just want it to make sense, you thought, if it made sense that means we could fix it.

“We’re at the trailer park,” Steve spoke up hesitantly, looking at you with worry in his eyes as he grabbed for your hand under the table. “Uhh…should we maybe not…be here?”

“There is something about this place,” Nancy began, “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

“Weird as in…?” Robin pushed the question.

“Scared….upset,” Nancy looked you all in the eyes. You felt a chill go down your spine as you considered the fact that these kids—your peers—likely died in terror.

“Max said Chrissy was upset too,” Dustin reminded you all.

“Yeah, but not here. She was crying in the bathroom at school.”

“Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right? So maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecna before?” Robin suggested. You were all grasping at straws at this point. There wasn’t anything to even go off of.

“I don’t know about you guys, but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone,” Steve spoke up. You felt a pang in your chest as you remembered all that you hadn’t been telling him.

“Maybe they did,” you added hesitantly. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you…you wouldn’t go to the police. They’d never believe you.”

“But you might tell your shrink,” Robin finished your thought, sharing a knowing look with you. She had been keeping secrets for you. What Steve didn’t know was that when he had picked you up in the middle of the assembly, the two of you had run into Ms. Kelley before you could make it to the nurse’s office.

You were still crying after you and Robin had gone back inside after hanging up with Steve. You were no longer inconsolable, but tears were still streaming down your face. Robin tried to quickly rush you to the nurse’s office, her mind going a million miles a minute trying to think of a good excuse. Suddenly, you turned the corner and you jumped as you were met face to face with Ms. Kelley.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” She asked you. Her eyes searched your face looking for an answer and you felt your heart leap to your throat. You were choked up, unable to speak, so she continued, attempting to be quiet to maintain confidentiality. “Is this about the mall fire again? Do you need to schedule another appointment with me?”

You avoided eye contact with Ms. Kelley, instead more focused on looking over her shoulder at Robin as her face twisted into a look of confusion and concern. You felt guilt pull at your chest from the look on her face and you redirected your gaze to the floor, suddenly way more concerned with the dirty laces of your tennis shoes.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Ms. Kelley. Thank you though for all your help this semester. I think I’m just having one of those days and-and with Jason talking about it at the assembly…it just caught me off guard is all,” your voice was small as you responded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“What can I do to support you right now?” She further inquired. All you could think of was the panic that had settled in your ribcage and how you desperately needed to leave.

“I guess…I just don’t think I’m in a good frame of mind to be in class right now. I have a quiz in O’Donell’s and I don’t want my grade to tank because of all of this,” you choked out. Ms. Kelley nodded as she rubbed circles on your back to help calm you down.

“How about I go to the front office and get you all signed out and Robin can wait with you outside for your ride?” You nodded and she turned to Robin, “you can call her folks on the payphone for her, yeah?”

Robin stood dumbfounded for a second before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course!” She quickly replied, nodding aggressively, still a bit shocked by the whole encounter. Ms. Kelley thanked Robin and headed towards the main office, and your eyes were still fixed on the floor when Robin spoke up again.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay?” She grabbed your shoulders and forced you to look her in the eye. “I’m not going to say I understand what you’re going through specifically, but I was there too, so if you ever need to talk to someone about it without shrouding it in lies about a fire, please just come to me.”

You stood there in silence for a little bit before you nodded. “You can’t tell Steve,” you warned, your voice serious. “Seriously, Robin. He can’t know about any of this.”

Robin looked like she wanted to protest but sighed before finally agreeing. “Fine. Let’s go wait for your dingus.”

Your breath caught in your throat as she had said it. You shot her a look that said “don’t even go there” as everyone was getting up to go. She rolled her eyes but dropped the subject. Suddenly you noticed Nancy was heading in a different direction as Steve started to follow after her.

“Woah, woah, Nance. Nance! Where are you going?” Steve called after her, concern lacing his voice. Your heart dropped a little at the nickname, knowing that was what he started calling her after they had started dating. You knew that he loved you, but you couldn’t help but feel less than when you remembered Steve had spent nearly a year dating the most perfect girl in Hawkins.

“Oh, there’s just something I wanna check on first.” She responded, though something in her voice made it clear that there was more than she was letting on.

“Something you maybe wanna share with the rest of us?” Dustin asked, exasperated, and you couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. We’re all in this together and it doesn’t make sense to be keeping things from each other, you thought, but it was followed by an immediate pang in your chest as you thought about the things you’d been keeping from your own boyfriend.

“I just don’t wanna waste anyone’s time.”

“Uh, are you serious? Flying solo with this Vecna guy on the loose? No, it’s too dangerous. You need someone to go with you. In fact, I’ll go,” you started heading towards her, but Steve caught you by your elbow and pulled you back, the change in momentum causing you to stumble.

“Oh, absolutely not! No way in fucking hell!” Steve yelled, and your jaw set at the anger in his voice. You opened your mouth to argue, but Robin spoke up before you could get a word out.

“This is stupid. I’ll go with Nancy and we’ll sort out whatever it is we need to sort out,” Robin started heading towards Nancy’s car and Nancy quickly followed.

“Be careful!” You yelled out after them and they didn’t really respond because who could honestly be careful with any of this shit anyway? None of you really knew what the hell was going on.

Steve rolled his eyes as you all got in the car. “Wipe your feet,” he warned Dustin, who, in true dumbass fashion, began wiping his dirty tennis shoes off on the floor mats in Steve’s BMW. “Not on the inside! On the outside idiot!” You couldn’t help but chuckle as Steve aggressively started the car. “Always the babysitter. Always the goddamn babysitter!”

“Hey, it could be worse…the kids behave sometimes,” you reminded Steve and he looked at you like you had three heads.

“Yeah, sure, if sometimes means on the corner of never and not at all, then sure. They’re perfectly behaved,” he grumbled and you couldn’t help but laugh. The laughter, however, didn’t last long as the reality of the situation started to settle in. You were going to have to talk to Ms. Kelley.

“Hey, so I think I’ll go talk to Ms. Kelley by myself, you know. I just…I’ve been talking to her recently because she’s been helping with some college application stuff, so I’ve got a good rapport with her and whatever,” you attempted to remain nonchalant, but you stumbled over your words a bit and Steve looked at you funny. You just stared pointedly at him and he shrugged, making his way to her house. Luckily with it being such a small town, it wasn’t too hard to figure out where she lived. He parked on the street and turned the car off, beginning to unbuckle.

“What are you doing?” You asked quickly.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going with you,” he responded, his brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance.

“No!” you put a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped in his tracks, his confusion significantly multiplying.

“This shit is fucked, y/n. I’m not letting you go by yourself, no way.”

“Well, then Max can go with me,” you offered, looking at the girl in the backseat who was equally confused. “I just think it’s a good idea for you to keep the car running…you know, in case something happens and we have to leave quickly.”

It was a dumb ass excuse, but Steve let it slide as he rolled his eyes and started the car again. Max opened up her mouth to ask you what the hell was going on as you made your way to the front door but you just gave a small shake of your head to shut down her potential questioning. You knocked on the door and Ms. Kelley finally answered, a look of confusion and concern painted across her features.

“Hey…I-I’m sorry to bother you over break but do you have a minute to talk?” You asked, trying to keep your voice even despite the anxiety settling in your chest.

“Um, yeah, of course. Of course,” she replied, stepping to the side to let the both of you in. You both sat down in her family room as she took a seat across from the two of you.

“So, what’s going on? What would you like to talk about?”

“I just brought Max here because with all of the murders going on…we’re just…I guess we’re just feeling a bit uneasy. It’s just making it difficult, especially since Max lives in the trailer park too where the body was discovered. It’s just hitting a little too close to home.” Max nodded, following your lead, though neither of you were being dishonest. You were both scared shitless.

“You both have experienced trauma and I know both of you don’t like to talk about it or deal with your emotions,” Ms. Kelley spoke up and you looked over to Max. She must have been seeing Ms. Kelley too. “But when you keep your feelings bottled up like that, it is very easy for something to set them off. So now, when it rains, it storms.”

“Yeah, I know,” Max replied, and your heart ached for the poor girl. You felt the ever present guilt tear at your chest as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat as she went on. “It’s just, I live right next door to where it happened. The police asked me a bunch of questions…and I guess I was just wondering if they talked to you? I know you were seeing Chrissy—“

Ms. Kelley cut her off, “you know I can’t talk to you about Chrissy.”

“I know but what if there was a serial killer loose in her neighborhood?” You chimed in. “Did Chrissy mention anything? Anything at all about who might have done this?”

“Girls, I really can’t discuss this, I’m sorry. You both wouldn’t want me talking about you to other students, right?”

“If I were dead and it would help catch the killer, then yeah, I most definitely would,” you shot back, beginning to get heated about the way this was getting you nowhere.

“Well, let’s leave that to the police then, okay?” Ms. Kelley responded, staying calm per usual despite your outburst.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you conceded, but another plan was already taking root in your mind. “Can we use the restroom on our way out?”

“Sure. Up the stairs to the left.” You grabbed Max’s wrist and gently but quickly guided her up into the kitchen, ignoring Ms. Kelley’s directions she had given you and grabbing keys labeled “office” out of a bowl on her counter.

“Come on,” you whispered, dragging her behind you as you both swiftly and silently made your way out of the house. You quickly got in the car before looking at Steve who was staring at you expectantly. “Drive.”

“What? Y/n, what did she say?”

“Nothing, just drive!” You emphasized and Steve abided as he took off. You would have to wait for the sun to go down, but as soon as it did, it was go time.

You were breaking in to Hawkins High.

***

You fumbled with the keys as you tried to unlock the doors of the school. You weren’t the type of student that did this shit. Sure, you weren’t exactly a goody-two-shoes, but breaking into the school? That was a bit too much, even for the likes of you guys.

You finally got the door opened, pushing into the dark hallway, flashlight illuminating the dark corridor as you made your way into the building. After making sure there was no one in sight, you waved the rest of the gang to follow you.

“This is dumb as hell,” Steve reminded you, “like I don’t know in what world you see this going okay…and—and if we get caught, you might as well kiss your chance of scholarships goodbye.”

“Well, some things are more important than college,” you grumbled, annoyed with your boyfriend. You guessed it was cute that he cared so much about your long term plans and aspirations—but still.

He scoffed and you rolled your eyes as you continued to make your way down the hall. Suddenly Dustin’s walkie talkie came to life, Robin’s voice echoing out into the empty hall. “Dustin, do you copy?”

“Yeah, I copy.”

“So, Nancy’s a genius. Vecna’s first victims date all the way back to 1959; her shot in the dark was a bullseye,” Robin sounded excited. Dustin was about to speak again when you took the walkie out of his hands, pressing down the button to speak.

“That is totally bonkers, but we can’t really talk right now,” you relayed quickly into the radio.

“Wait, what are you guys doing right now?”

“You know, just…breaking and entering in the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files,” you replied a bit sheepishly. Robin asked you to repeat yourself, but Steve grabbed the walkie talkie from you.

“Just get your asses over here, stat. We’ll explain everything,” Steve sounded irritated. He wasn’t super thrilled to be bringing two of his other senior friends into this who were likely to be expelled if the school found out about their actions.

You swiftly unlocked the door to Ms. Kelley’s office, immediately moving to unlock the file cabinet that contained all of her student files.

“It’s like a mini Watergate or something,” Dustin mumbled as you yanked the drawer open, flipping through the files. “Hawkinsgate!” Dustin emphasized, though you weren’t entirely paying attention, attempting to find Chrissy’s file.

“Didn’t those guys get caught?” Steve reminded the boy, his anxiety rising by the minute the longer you all were in the building.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, stopping at another hauntingly familiar name on a file.

“Did you find it?” Max asked, everyone’s attention now on you.

“Yeah, and not just Chrissy’s file…Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley too.”

You all looked between each other, the room becoming increasingly more tense as elements of what you knew were beginning to connect. You sat down as you flipped Chrissy’s file open. You were thumbing through the pages when you found a handwritten note with a list of symptoms. You felt your heart drop when you read them. “Um, can I see Fred’s file,” you whispered, not drawing your eyes away from the words on the page.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Steve replied, setting Fred’s file in front of you. You frantically flipped through the pages until you found a very similar handwritten note, detailing all the same ailments. You sat there, staring wide eyed at the page in front of you, hoping desperately that if you stared at it long enough that the words would change. They didn’t.

Dustin spoke up from behind you, “hey, y/n…you have a file in here too?” It was more of a question than a statement, and you broke out of your trance as Steve looked at you confused. When you didn’t say anything, he turned his attention to Dustin, his confusion turning to anger.

“Hey, that’s not funny. Stop bullshitting, man,” Steve warned, but he stopped in his tracks when Dustin held up the file folder, your name printed clear as day across the top. Why in the hell were you seeing Ms. Kelley? His mind raced as he tried not to think about all the other things you might not be telling him.

“Y/n? What is this? Y/n…y/n!” Steve began to interrogate you, holding up the file folder in front of you in a white knuckled grip. He was mad…that much you could tell, but his voice continued to sound farther and farther away. Instead, a different voice rang out, your name echoing into the room in a low and gravelly register that made your skin crawl. Even though you didn’t want to, you felt compelled to follow it.

You turned, getting up from your chair and exiting into the hallway. You heard a slight, rhythmic ticking before a chime rang out. A chill went down your spine as the noise caused your heart to sink in your chest. If anxiety had a sound, this was it.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you pushed on through the hallway. You were surprised no one else had followed you, but you pushed the thought aside as you turned the corner, you flashlight slightly shaking in your unsteady hands. The light caught the wall at the end of the tunnel, and you felt nauseous looking at the ornate grandfather clock sat nestled into the wall, fissures spreading outwards as the plaster cracked around its wooden frame.

The pendulum swung back and forth ominously…hypnotically as you continued towards it. Your mind screamed at you to stop, but your legs wouldn’t listen as they continued forward, bringing you closer and closer to the clock. It continued to tick evenly, which was almost more unsettling as you wondered what it was counting down to.

“Y/n,” the voice growled out again. It was all too much to bear, so you squeezed your eyes shut tight as you willed it all to be over. Instead, you were met with bright blue, yet sinister looking eyes staring back at you.

Suddenly, Steve’s voice filled your ears again and you felt someone shaking at your shoulders. “Y/n! Y/n, please wake up! Y/n!”

Your eyes shot open as you stared wide eyed into the familiar brown ones you would daydream about. Except, instead of having the familiar flecks of light as they twinkled when he talked to you, they were dark and full of worry, his brow furrowed as he stared deep into your eyes.

You gasped and leaned forward in your chair, collapsing into his arms. He immediately reacted to your movements, pulling you in close as his hands frantically moved across your back, as if trying to make sure you were still all there. You were breathing heavily and fighting back tears as you gripped Steve’s shirt in your hands.

The door suddenly burst open, causing you to shriek, and Steve swiftly pulled you up out of your chair, yanking you behind him as he gripped your hand in his. Your heart rate began to slow as you realized it was only Nancy and Robin…not whatever that thing was that you saw.

“What’s going on?” Robin asked hesitantly. You looked between Dustin, Max, and Steve as you tried to figure out what you could possibly say. After a moment, you finally settled on something, reluctantly opening your mouth to speak.

“I…I saw something.”

“What do you mean you saw something?” Dustin asked hesitantly. He had been scared out of his mind when he saw you go catatonic in the chair, unresponsive to Steve’s shouting. He had thought back to Eddie’s account of what happened to Chrissy as he sat frozen watching Steve try to wake you.

Your lips parted to try and explain, but you shook your head, moving around Steve and darting towards the door. He tried to stop you, but Robin put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back as everyone followed you out into the hall.

“It was right there….a grandfather clock. And—and it was so…real. When I got closer, suddenly I-I just…I woke up,” you explained, staring blankly at the wall in front of you. It sat there plain and empty, and it almost was more frightening that the clock you had seen was gone now.

“It was like she was in a trance or something. Exactly like what Eddie said happened to Chrissy,” Dustin elaborated. Steve’s stomach dropped and he suddenly felt nauseous. That couldn’t be it. He couldn’t live with himself if you…

He pushed the thought aside.

“That’s not even the bad part,” you interjected, turning to face your group of friends.

“What the fuck do you mean, y/n?” Steve asked, his voice dead serious. You didn’t answer him as you quickly made your way back to Ms. Kelley’s office, opening the files that had sent a shudder down your spine as you read them earlier.

“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelley for help. Uh, they both were having headaches, nosebleeds…nightmares, trouble sleeping. And—and then they started seeing things. Bad things,” you started explaining. Steve thought back to all the times you had woken up gasping in the middle of the night, burying your head into his chest as he soothed you back to sleep. He thought about the tissues he had started keeping in his car and the jokes he made about your suddenly frequent nosebleeds. He thought about the headache you had just the night before. He felt more sick to his stomach than he had ever felt in his life as he followed the dots you had connected.

“These visions, they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually…everything ended,” you whispered the last part, your voice beginning to fail you.

“Vecna’s curse,” Robin looked at you, fear in her eyes.

“Chrissy’s headache started a week ago. Fred’s six days ago,” you continued, “I’ve been having them for five days. I don’t know how long I have. All I know is that Fred and Chrissy both died within 24 hours of their first vision, and I just saw that goddamn clock, so…looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.” A tear rolled down your cheek as you stumbled through your words, not ready for the inevitability that you were staring in the face.

“No, that’s not going to happen,” Steve spoke up, shaking his head aggressively. “I mean, it’s all just a coincidence, right? It has to be. It-it just has to be.” His voice began to falter as he looked between all of you, none of you sharing his optimism. No one responded, and he kicked the metallic front of the desk, muttering curse words under his breath. You went to stop him, but Robin held you back. He needed this. He needed the catharsis.

Each clang that rang out was like a knife to your chest, feeling the reverberation in your body as he kicked with all his might. He finally calmed down a bit, leaning over and panting as he placed two hands on the desk and stared as his feet while fuming.

Suddenly another clang rang out; however, this one couldn’t be attributed to Steve’s outburst. This one came from somewhere else in the building. You all jumped and Steve when saw the fear in your eyes, his jaw set and he spoke up.

“You guys stay here,” he muttered as he grabbed a floor lamp, yanking it aggressively to unplug it before heading out of the room. You all obviously didn’t listen, following close behind as you hesitantly made your way down the hall. Another clang sounded, this time closer, and you jumped, Robin grabbing your shoulders to steady you. Suddenly, you heard the distinctive sound of footsteps. Someone was coming for you.

The pace of them quickened as whatever was headed your direction began to break out into a clear and definite sprint. A figure suddenly turned the corner, and everyone broke out into a chorus of shrieks and screams as Steve geared up to swing the metal lamp.

“It’s me!” The figure screamed out and you realized it was only Lucas.

“What is wrong with you Sinclair?!” Steve shouted, his paternal side kicking in as he turned this instance into a lecture.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas panted, doubled over from running.

“I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!” Steve once again emphasized, shaking the lamp for effect.

“I’m sorry guys…I-I…just give me a second…I was biking…for eight miles. And-and…we’ve got…a code red,” he panted in response. You all looked at him expectantly before he continued. “Dustin, I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy and they’ve totally gone off the rails. They’re trying to capture Eddie and they think you know where he is. You’re in terrible danger!”

Your heart stopped in your chest, as you went to stand in front of Dustin wanting to further question Lucas. You needed to know every last damn detail if you were going to keep Dustin safe, and that was all you cared about right now. Dustin pushed back in front of you, glaring at you a bit before speaking up again. “That really sucks, but we have bigger problems than Jason right now,” he relayed to Lucas, looking back at you.

***

You had split up for the night…well kind of. Everyone else was spending the night at Nancy’s but Steve decided that the two of you needed time to talk so there you were, back in his BMW as you made your way to his house. You didn’t know what to say to him, and you both rode in silence, the air tense between you.

About halfway through the ride, he had removed one hand from the steering wheel, reaching blindly to grasp your hand in his. He needed reassurance that you were still here. He needed to find a way to believe that they would figure this out and you would still be here.

You went up to his room, quietly sitting on the bed as your eyes filled with tears again now that you were in an environment in which you could be more vulnerable. Steve stood at his dresser, getting a pair of pajama pants out as he broke the silence.

“How could you keep this from me, y/n?” He sounded hurt and you really couldn’t blame him. If the tables were turned you would have felt the same way, and you felt the need to justify your actions.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you whispered. You were looking down at your hands, though you couldn’t see them that well as your vision blurred from the unshed tears.

“That’s bullshit, and I think you know it,” Steve replied, his voice still small. “I…I just can’t believe you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you Steve!” You cried out, your head snapping up to look at him.

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” he scoffed. He knew he shouldn’t be angry with you. That he shouldn’t be taking it out on you. But he felt betrayed, feeling as though the relationship you’d built was shattering before his eyes as he contemplated the secrets you’d kept.

“You knew I was struggling. Don’t even try and act like you didn’t; this shouldn’t be a complete shock,” you defended yourself, anger leaking into your tone as well.

“Yeah, I knew you were struggling, but not like this! This is kind of a bit more than just struggling, y/n. Why didn’t you fucking tell me you were seeing Ms. Kelley?”

“Steve, that doesn’t even matter, I don’t get why you’re so caught up on that one little detail! It’s nothing compared to all the other shit going on right now!” You yelled, exasperated that, despite everything, he couldn’t just let it go.

“‘It doesn’t matter’? Are you fucking serious, y/n? Of course it fucking matters! You didn’t come to me! You never tell me things! We don’t really fucking talk about it anymore—all the shit we went through, I mean,” he sighed, running his hands through his hair as you stared up at him from your spot on his bed. He still stood by his dressed, and the distance between you suddenly felt uncrossable. In this moment, it felt like you were strangers to one another. He took a deep breath and continued, “I-I…we used to talk about it; work through it together. It seems like ever since last summer, we don’t even fucking acknowledge it.”

You stared up at him from across the room, and he thought he could break at the look in your eyes. You were hurting. You had been hurting, and all he wanted to do was try and make it better, but you wouldn’t let him.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Steve,” your voice was even as you said it.

“Why didn’t you tell me about seeing Ms. Kelley?”

“Steve—“

“No, cut the bullshit, y/n. Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing Ms. Kelley? It’s a simple question; answer it,” he crossed his arms, refusing to move on until he got an adequate response. You were reaching your breaking point, and you didn’t think about the words before they exited your lips.

“Because you would have tried to help, and I don’t want your fucking help!” You blurted out. As soon as you saw the way that Steve’s face fell as you said it, you wished you could take it back. He took a deep breath and hung his head as he turned to leave the room. “Steve, wait….I-I didn’t mean it like that! Steve!”

You ran to him, grabbing at his wrist to try and get him to stay. He shook your hand away, turning around to look back at you. You saw the way tears were beginning to pool in his pretty brown eyes.

“Y/n…just….I just need you to leave me alone right now, okay?” He choked the words out. You were expecting him to be mad, to yell, to be angry. Instead his voice was small and sad, and you felt your heart jump to your throat. You didn’t listen, grabbing his wrist again as tears began to stream down your face. You decided that listening to him shout was easier to take than watching him cry knowing you caused it.

“Just yell at me! Steve, please. Just yell at me! Don’t leave, please baby!” You begged, pulling on his arm with each word that left your mouth. You were choking back sobs and slowly, he turned back towards you.

Something about him set off alarm bells in your head as you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Why would I stay for you?” The words felt like a knife to your heart as your brows furrowed, confused at his words.

“What?” You whispered, your hands dropping his wrist as a lump formed in your throat.

“I said, why would I stay for you? You’re a dirty fucking liar and the most self-centered person I fucking know. It doesn’t matter what I need, or what anyone else needs. I mean, you put the kids in danger all the fucking time! When are you going to learn that this Upside Down bullshit isn’t what’s scary. You are,” he spat, taking a step towards you. Your heart was racing and you took a step back. He had never acted like this before. He had never told you that he thought these things about you.

“I-I…I don’t understand,” you cried, continuing to scramble backwards as he approached you. You’d never been afraid of him before either, but you couldn’t help the fear clawing at your chest as he continued forward, slowly yet with an aggression that had you trembling as you quickened your steps backwards to evade his reach. His room was only so small, and you were running out of room.

“Y/n,” Steve laughed. It sounded foreign to your ears; it wasn’t the melodic tone you’d come to love and seek out. Instead it was sinister, laced in condescension and anger. “Did you really think I care whether or not I’m with you or some other bitch? Do you really think anyone cares about you? You’re just some misfit freak, and nothing is ever going to change that.”

You took a step back, jumping in fright as your back hit the wall. You had run out of room, and suddenly Steve grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your sides. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and turned your head to the side, hoping that it would all just go away.

“Look at me,” Steve’s voice rang out again, but this time it was distorted, your eyes fluttered open as you cried out, being met with the same piercing blue eyes that you had seen flash across your vision before you woke up from your trance in the school earlier. You heard a chime ring out; the same chime that echoed from the clock, and you remembered the way the pendulum had swung menacingly from side to side.

“Let go of me!” You gasped out. You wished you hadn’t opened your eyes, as you took in the sight of the figure in front of you. His skin was decrepit, a slightly translucent sheen apparent as the dim moonlight filtering through the window reflected off its surface.

“You think you can atone for everything that you destroyed?” The figure asked you. Your heart was racing, feeling his clawed hands grip your wrists tighter as you tried to wriggle free. “All you’ve ever done is hurt people, put people in danger, ruin lives.”

You thought back over the past two and a half years, feeling the guilt rise in your throat as you thought about Dustin. You were supposed to protect him. You were supposed to make sure he was staying out of danger.

Instead, time and time again you led him right to it.

“Just let me go!” You shrieked. You couldn’t budge from his grasp, small cries escaping your lips in defeat as you continued your desperate and futile attempts to break free.

“Your time is almost up, y/n,” his voice was a low growl as he leaned in, saying it quietly into your ear. Goosebumps erupted over your whole body as you squeezed your eyes shut again.

“Y/n! Please! Y/n!” Another voice suddenly filled your ears. It sounded far away at first, but it became clearer and you felt someone shaking your shoulders as your eyes snapped open to meet the familiar brown ones you knew and loved. Tears were streaming down Steve’s face and when he realized you finally come to, he pulled you in, crushing you in the tightest hug you’d ever received.

You began to break down, sobs racking your frame as you grabbed onto your boyfriend. “I don’t know what’s real anymore,” you choked out between sobs, your tears forming a wet spot on his shirt as you cried into his shoulder.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay. I’m here, baby, I’m real,” he tried to console you, but he was still a mess himself. He thought back over what he just witnessed and he felt guilt settle in his chest.

He had just told you that he needed a second to be alone. He needed time to clear his thoughts because he didn’t want to say anything in the heat of the moment that he would regret later. You had clung to his arm, protesting and trying to get him to stay when all of the sudden you retreated into yourself, going catatonic as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. He felt his heart sink halfway to hell when you wouldn’t respond. Your eyes were moving rapidly back and forth underneath your eyelids and regardless of what he did, you wouldn’t wake up. All he could think about was what Eddie had said about Chrissy…the way she levitated and her bones began to snap and how her eyes got pulled back into her skull.

He couldn’t watch that happen to you.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your ear as he swayed with you from side to side. You could feel him still trembling and you thought back to what the figure—what Vecna, had said. All you ever brought on was hurt and destruction and chaos.

“I’m sorry!” You cried out, continuing to sob. At this, Steve immediately pulled away, looking at you quizzically.

“Why are you apologizing? Please don’t apologize, baby,” he begged.

“It’s just…I-I-I should’ve told you I was going to see Ms. Kelley! I was just afraid be-because I didn’t want you…to-to try and fix it because I knew that-that you would worry, and…and I didn’t want to put you through that stress,” you began, hiccuping through your words as you continued to cry. “Steve, I-I…I don’t think I have much time. I don’t want to waste what little we might have left being angry at each other, so can you please forgive me?”

Steve ignored your plea for forgiveness, instead focusing on the other aspect of your statement. “What do you mean you don’t have much time?” He asked hesitantly, afraid of what your answer would be.

“I saw Vecna,” you whispered, “he told me my time is almost up.”

“I’m not going to let him take you from me, y/n. I’m just not,” he shook his head aggressively as he stared at you wide eyed.

“Steve, this is exactly why I didn’t tell you—“ you began but he cut you off.

“Y/n, I don’t care that you don’t want me to worry about you; I’m going to regardless of whether you tell me to or not, and if you think that I’m going to let some Upside Down, inter dimensional, creepy ass motherfucker take you away from us, you are dead wrong,” he started, getting more and more emphatic and angry as he spoke. When he continued, his voice was softer. “I’m not letting anyone hurt my girl again, okay? We’re all going to figure this out and everything is going to be okay. We’re going to find Vecna and kill his ass, and everything is going to be okay…you are going to be okay.”

It sounded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you. You put your hands on the side of his face, trying to get him to settle, your heart hurting at his frantic speaking, a stark contrast to his usual more calm demeanor.

“Steve, but what if it’s not?” You asked, your voice a whisper.

“It has to be,” he whispered back. You could see the tears beginning to well in his eyes again, and you placed a soft kiss to his lips. He reciprocated, deepening the kiss as his hand went to the nape of your neck. He kissed you like his life depended on it; like he would never get to kiss you again as he pushed you towards his bed, laying you down gently.

His lips moved across your jawline as he kissed your soft skin, placing gentle but fervent kisses on the spot just below your ear. His lips trailed down your neck as he listened to you breathe. You were whispering his name and he took a second to take it all in.

Here he was, with the love of his life, who was presumably about to die at any given moment. Yet you were still sitting like a masterpiece on his sheets, his name dripping from your lips like honey. You were everything he had ever wanted and he cursed himself for not doing a better job at protecting you.

“Steve?” You whispered breathily, putting a hand on his chest to stop him. He propped himself up better, looking down at you, and he felt his heart skip as he looked into your lust filled eyes.

“What is it baby?”

“I’m ready,” you whispered. Understanding what you meant, he leaned down and placed the sweetest and most gentle kiss to your lips.

Tomorrow wasn’t certain, so tonight, Steve was going to love you as if there was no tomorrow, making sure you knew exactly just how much you meant to him.

While you spent the night tangled up in Steve’s bedsheets as he placed hot kisses across every inch of your body, for the first time in a while, you felt at ease. You allowed yourself to revel in the bliss of that moment because, come tomorrow morning, you were going to have to start facing the reality of the situation.

And the reality of a sudden and gruesome death was a hard pill to swallow.

***

a/n: anyway, so shit’s gettin’ real. Reblog if you want to give me a free dose of serotonin while I’m muddling through the dumpster fire that is college :)

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs

[risustravelogue]

How Do I Know

Summary:

How do you know if you're in love with someone?

Featuring:

Alhaitham, friend!Kaveh, gn!Reader (they/them pronouns used)

Tone:

Crack-ish, fluff.

Note:

My second-half entry for @soleillunne's saudade milestone event! First half was written by @kazumist. I changed the capitalization, hope you don't mind >.< P.S. We love ourselves an idiot Haitham don't we lmao-

🔗 masterlist 🔗

What does it mean to fall in love?

No, scratch that.

How do you know if you’re in love with someone?

Alhaitham has been asking himself that question lately.

Believe him, he had never actually thought that much about love, and he had never fallen in love in his life. So it’s safe to say that yes, Alhaitham is pretty much an idiot when it comes to romance and the like. 

Kaveh feels hopeless for him; he knows—hell, everyone knows at this point! You could just see it in how Alhaitham looks at you. There’s just something in his eyes that says it all for him. That he had helplessly fallen head over heels for you. Don’t even get his roommate started on how he’s been acting lately.

He and Alhaitham had a rule that they’d go on an alternative schedule for grocery shopping. But when it was Alhaitham’s turn, he had you tag along! (Don’t get him wrong, Kaveh thinks you’re a lovely person. But was there really a need to bring you along? Then again, if that’s what his roommate is happy with, who is he to interfere?)

Archons, there’s also the fact that of all, or at least the majority, of the conversations that Kaveh shared with Alhaitham, he’s sure that at least 97% of them were about you.

And Kaveh knew it was going to happen again right now.

“Are flowers really a good gift for someone?” Alhaitham asks, and Kaveh almost spits out his drink.

“What?”

“I said what I said.”

“I mean, why do you ask?”

“(Name) said it’s a nice gift to receive, but I disagree with it since what if the one you gifted it to can’t take care of plants? Wouldn’t that be troublesome for them?”

There he goes again, the architect thinks.

Kaveh is surprised that, for a smart person like Alhaitham, he’s really an idiot in love.

“Hey,” Kaveh drawls, giving his glass a swirl.

“What is it?”

“Have you ever considered the possibility that you’re in love?”

Alhaitham feels paralyzed. No, that thought has never crossed his mind. Not once, not until now, when his roommate had opened the topic. But now that he has, the gears in his mind start gearing as he connects some dots. He isn’t stupid or slow (or so he says), yet... for once in his life, he isn’t quite sure if he’s right in his answer.

“I haven’t.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

How do you know if you’re in love with someone?

Alhaitham’s answer to this predicament is “Alright, Mr. Love Expert, so give me a list of things I need to check.”

“Huh?” Kaveh sputters in disbelief.

Alhaitham sighs. “Give me a checklist is what I’m saying.”

“No, no, I get that, but why ask me instead of love advice books?”

“The House of Daena doesn’t have those kinds of books,” Alhaitham says with a deadpan expression.

Kaveh grumbles. “You’re such an– ugh, fine!” The blond architect grabs a small piece of scrap paper and a pen. He starts scribbling on the paper carelessly, as if he wants it to be over already.

“Keep in mind that I’m giving you this only because it’s becoming increasingly painful to see the great Akademiya Scribe being such a dumbass,” he says, handing over the checklist to his old friend.

A small smile creeps onto Alhaitham’s lips as he reads the checklist.

1. Your heartbeat speeds up whenever they’re around. 2. You smile a lot when talking with them. 3. They are in your last thoughts before you fall asleep. 4. Their opinions weigh a lot in your mind. 5. You feel jealous whenever you see them getting physically intimate with another person. 6. You walk toward them hastily, as if impatient to interact with them. 7. You have thought about spending the rest of your life with them.

The scribe nods in approval. “Thanks. This will be really helpful.”

Kaveh’s mouth goes agape. “Are you actually being sincere with me right now?”

“Shut it.”

That night, Alhaitham puts a check mark after number three.

—

By the end of the work week, Alhaitham thinks that Kaveh is sorely mistaken.

He takes out the worn scrap of paper out of the book he’s currently reading and sighs. His handwriting litters the gaps on the paper.

1. Your heartbeat speeds up whenever they’re around. Normal heart rate. Invalid. 2. You smile a lot when talking with them. Is once every conversation a lot? 3. They are in your last thoughts before you fall asleep. ✓ 4. Their opinions weigh a lot in your mind. Nonsense. Every opinion must be weighed objectively. 5. You feel jealous whenever you see them getting physically intimate with another person. This never happens. 6. You walk toward them hastily, as if impatient to interact with them. I do that, but not because I’m impatient. 7. You have thought about spending the rest of your life with them.

Leaning back into his work chair, he lifts the paper until it’s mere inches from his nose and stares hard at number seven. Kaveh’s tired words from this morning echoes in his mind.

“Alhaitham, if you checked number 7, you can consider all the others checked and confess. To. (Name). Already.”

Really? Alhaitham thinks. Spending the rest of your life with one person? Do people really make foolish promises like that?

As Kaveh’s hasty handwriting starts to swirl, he pinches the bridge of his nose.

But then… that doesn’t sound so foolish if it’s with you…

He takes a deep breath and gets up from his work chair, stuffing the list back into his book with a sigh. It’s time to meet with you in the House of Daena.

… How do I know if I’m really in love with you, (name)?

The question floats around in the silver-haired scribe’s mind as he walks into the majestic library with his headphones off, his sensitive ears searching for the sound of your voice. Once he hears your exasperated sigh, he quickly walks toward your direction and sits beside you.

“I see the formula is as tough as ever,” he says, a smirk on his face.

“It is!” you hiss, banging your forehead onto the wooden desk. “I enrolled in this course to get away from numbers, and what I got is a super complicated formula to calculate substance release for the final assignment,” you pout. You ramble on to complain, and all Alhaitham can think is how adorable you look when you’re irritated.

I wouldn’t mind hearing you complain for the rest of my life, he thinks.

You stop and turn to face him, your eyebrows frowning in disbelief. “... What did you just say?”

Alhaitham blinks. “Did I say anything?”

“You just said you wouldn’t mind…”

“… hearing you complain for the rest of my life, yes.”

Several seconds of silence hangs in the air while every gear in his head snaps into place.

“Ah. So that’s how it is,” he smiles. Before you can respond, he takes your hands into his and tugs your fingers gently.

“(Name)... it looks like I’m in love with you,” he declares, his gaze meeting yours, both the relief of realization and the flames of excitement twinkling in his eyes. You feel a blush blooming across your face.

“You idiot…” you mutter, averting your gaze away from him. “Confessing in the middle of the library, and so loud, too…”

“But Kaveh said–”

“That doesn’t mean you have to say it so loudly in here! You could’ve taken me out to a nice dinner first… or something…”

“Oh, sorry.”

He tries to pull his hands away. Try being the keyword, as you pull them back to keep them in place.

“That said, I’ll forgive you, since I love you too,” you say with a smile.

His lips then meet yours in a tender kiss, as if uttering a silent promise.

Now I know, and I won’t know any other.

© @risustravelogue 2023 • no to reposting, yes to reblogging. feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. :)

[priniya]

DAYS LIKE THESE!

xavier thorpe finds himself in the weirdest, christmas situation — at his girlfriend’s house, experiencing something he never had before, a loving, family meeting.

notes. xavier thorpe x reader. just a christmas fluff because i need some! <3 implied psychic family! UNEDITED

masterlist • taglist (click to be added!)

when xavier agreed to the invitation to spend the christmas with you at your house, far from his neglectful, pretentious father, he expected something different. your family size was an undiscovered thing for him — obviously, he knew that you had a brother and a sister, since they’ve always visited on the parents weekend, but you hardly ever talked about anyone else.

so seeing five cars already parked on the driveway, and a mention of another two people being late, made him shocked. it was unusual for him to catch a glimpse of a family gathering so well planned, and so wanted that everyone shows up.

“xavier!” you exclaimed, running to him after a five minutes wait, freezing out, wearing the red sweatshirt he got you, and a pair of black jeans. his arms quickly embraced you in the tightest hug, lifting a few inches in the air. “i’m gonna pass out, i can’t believe you’re here.”

“believe me, the feeling’s mutual.” he chuckled, matching the wide grin on your face. “are those cars… yours?” thorpe let out, still in shock.

a frown was visible on your face as you entered the house quietly, trying to settle him in without any interruptions. “what? no, dummy. that’s all my siblings’ cars.” you laughed, throwing him a christmas sweater, knitted by your mom with a big, silver x in the center.

“what–?” he stammered. “you have five siblings? i thought you have three, you know, filly, julie and the little one.” you let out a small giggle upon hearing his words. “what? how many siblings do you have?” he asked, all confused.

“you know,” you began, adjusting the collar of his shirt, underneath his new sweater. “you’re an only child, and i strongly believe my parents don’t know the definition of contraception, but to answer your question — there’re five adults, me and julie, and four children from age ten to six, and then there are the twins, four years olds.” you babbled, not paying attention to the terrified impression spread over your boyfriend’s face.

“THIRTEEN? YOU HAVE TWELVE SIBLINGS?” xavier was completely horrified, imagining how your life must’ve been earlier, but then — he connected the dots, realizing that everything fitted like puzzle pieces. your house was enormous, your room was split in a half with red tape and a curtain, he caught a glimpse of the humongous yard behind the house, and lots of pictures near the stairs.

a pain of jolt rushed through his body — as a child, he always wanted to have at least one sibling, and you had twelve! his inner child couldn’t help but feel so envy of you. it’d be way easier to handle the family trauma, having someone to confide in.

“you know, my mom grew up in an orphanage and decided that once she starts a family of her own, it’d be like in the cheaper by the dozen movie, you know, and my dad also comes from a big family, so he never minded my mom’s dream.” you smiled, fingers ruffling through his hair. “and you’re one of us now, you’re the fastest to get your own sweater.”

“am i really?”

“my mom was thrilled to knit you one.” you planted a kiss on his lips, grinning at him. “so… she did after the one call you had with her. i don’t know if you remember, but it was in january, right after the new year’s eve.” he laughed, heat rushing to his cheeks as he smiled.

“Y/N!” your youngest sister barged into the room. “mom asks if you could stop hiding xavier, and let others meet him.” ginny’s eyes were focused on your boyfriend as she snatched him from you, tugging on his hand prior to pulling him outside.

you could sense how tense he was, standing in the doorframe with your youngest sister. it took them less than fifteen second to notice them. “back off!” ginny shouted, protecting xavier from your nieces and nephews. “i am his favorite.”

the room was quickly filled with laughter as you tickled the little girl. “okaaay, favorite after y/n.” she playfully rolled her eyes, not letting go of his hand.

when everyone was done with introductions, your boyfriend finally let him loose a little, having multiple chitchats with your brothers about anything, while you tried to remind the twins that xavier wasn’t the type of person who liked physical touch, even though he didn’t seem to mind anything — gemma occupying his laps during the dinner, while ginny babbled endlessly.

“hey, adrien.” filly, the only brother that xavier got to know beforehand, began. “you said you were looking for someone to help you with the exhibition at the art gallery, and you know, xavier is really talented with painting.” he suggested, throwing his arm around adrien’s shoulder.

“really? do you actually?” your oldest brother smiled slyly. “one guy stood me up, and i was looking for someone to replace him, would you like that?” the shock on his face earned a few giggles from your mom, and older sisters.

“if it’s not a problem – obviously.” xavier grinned, nodding his head eagerly. “thank you, really. that means so much to me.”

“i told you, you’re one of us!” you exclaimed, giving him a smooch on the cheek. “now, you’re obligated to attend every family event, and there’s a lot of, considering our fourteen birthdays as fourteen family events!”

the whole dinner went smoothly, your family immediately took your boyfriend under their wings, making him feel as comfortable as it was only possible. and then, the final of secret santas took a place. you almost cried, seeing how your mom gives xavier a few painting supplies, and hand warmers matching his sweater.

“gemma! someone has a gift for you!” you called out on behalf of the blonde boy. one of the twins teleported to the place where you stood, grin spreading over her lips as she watched him hand her the gift.

“it’s kind of cheating, but y/n had to tell me a few things.” words spilled out of his mouth, gaining the girl’s full attention. “but besides that, i drew you something.” she took out the gorgeous sketch from the bag, and before she even thanked him, he used his ability and moved the thing on the canva.

it was a duck, holding a guitar, a combination of two things your sister loves, playing one of her favorite songs. “woooow! it’s so pretty!” she gaped at him, admiration flickering in her eyes. “thank you so much! i love it.” catching him off guard, gemma clutched him in a hug.

it was around four in the morning, when everything finally died down and you found yourself covered in the silky sheets, watching as xavier swiftly gets rid of his clothing. “sorry if you felt overwhelmed by amount of people here, i asked them to give you space.” you whispered, your head resting on top of his chest.

“overwhelmed?” he snorted, shocking your head in fake disappointment. “i’ve longed for a christmas party like that ever since i was a kid. i’d never felt so accepted by anyone before.” a beam rosed on his lips as he planted a delicate on yours. “thank you for the invitation.”

xavier stayed with you, and your family for a few more days, taking in the perks of living in a full house, experimenting all the sweet interactions between your siblings and parents, being a part of all those meals together, feeling the fondness and tenderness of each actions.

it was his last night, when you were standing in the kitchen, blanket hanging on your shoulders, back pressed to the counter as you sipped on the hot-chocolate, recalling events from previous days, smile finding its way onto your face.

“hey!” you exclaimed happily, a little too loud for two in the morning, when you noticed your boyfriend in the doorway. “what’re you doing up so late?” you asked, wrapping the blanket around him.

“was looking for something to drink.” he muttered, leaving a kiss on your temple as his arm clutched you in a side hug, taking a sip of the hot chocolate, snatching the mug from your hand prior. “i’m going to miss this place.”

“you can visit whenever you want, no one will mind.” you sent him the prettiest smile you could, before resting your head on his shoulder. “really, the youngests love you, so does my mom, and my other siblings. you bought them with that smile.”

letting him go was the hardest, watching as he gets to the car with a small, sad smile tugged on his face. and when they finally left the driveway, for a brief second, you could see him waving at you.

but the nights like these were the only thing you’d remember, recalling them every night before you’d reunite at school. geez, xavier thorpe has you wrapped around his finger so easily — but could anyone blame you for this?

taglist: @tanaicarmyah @theyslayallday @emiliaserpe @v4mpicgh0ul @lastwandastan @sebastianstansimp @m3curys @macystyles-01 @smutsearcher @samdiedofnaturalcauses @poppet05 @y0ud0ntkn0wwh0 @akila-twt @crazyandanonymous4u @summe-rliu @izzy-mae-flowers @emmnf1 @veronalie @jessicalovestaron @yellowcupcakes @averyisbackinthetrashcan @maddie-routledge @lachlanzeez @tinafuentes @j4id3n-inan1mate0bj3cts @anothertakenlostwonderingsoul @m-maxie-ie @trixiemills @ethernal-onism @watermelonteapot (i couldnt tag some of u😕)

[mvrtaiswriting]

Patterns. x Portgas D. Ace ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

hiii! it’s simping for ace hours and this might be the most tooth rotting piece I have written in a while. again, quite short - but god i adore it! and i hope you will too <3 do let me know in the comments!

gender neutral! no warnings. not proofread 

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

“I wonder what happens if I connect all the dots.” you mumbled, running your fingers across Ace’s cheeks, touching every freckle and looking for a pattern. You always thought there was something special about Ace, something that went beyond the love you felt for him - it was like the universe let the two of you meet just at the right time. Your energies complemented each other in ways you never thought were possible - and during the most chaotic period of your life, Ace stumbled into your life. Weeks later you joined Whitebeard’s crew, mastering your newly acquired powers after eating a devil fruit gently offered to you by Pops himself, making love with your boyfriend away in your room when everyone was asleep.

Your life took a whole different turn since you were with Ace - it was like he saved you from something bigger than you; you didn't know what it was, certainly becoming a pirate was more dangerous than serving tables in your island but in all honesty, that could have really killed you. It was freedom you longed for, the wildness of piracy, sailing the sea not having any perception of geographical borders and discovering the world, one creature after the other. There was a whole universe outside the walls of your city, which now only was a faded memory. Ace took your hand and stole you from your motherland - and you never looked back, thanking him everyday for changing your life for the better. 

“Do you think they form something?” he asked giggling, crossing eyes as he tried to follow the movements of your fingers. You nodded in response, not even noticing the goofy expression on your boyfriend face. Laying on top of him, you laid your head on his pillowy chest, getting a perfect view of your lover’s cheeks. 

“I can’t believe it. There IS a pattern!” you screamed in excitement, getting up to take a better look at his face. Lightly squishing his face, you took a pen to connect the dots on his face. Ace remained silent, letting you draw over his face, admiring the little scrunch that formed on the bridge on your nose every time you focussed on something. 

“Pops taught me something about the constellation, and I never saw this one in the sky. I can’t believe it’s here.” you continued, visibly surprised.

“What? What is it?” he asked curiously. 

“The freckles on your cheeks somehow form the Pisces constellation!” you clapped your hands, proud of discovering this little gem hidden in Ace’s face. 

“It’s believed to be the hardest to spot in the night sky. According to the legend, it signifies the union between Aphrodite and Eros, the goddess of beauty and the god of love.” you added, circling the moles on his cheek that indicated the two gods. “I knew it. I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence.” 

Ace smiled happily, quickly wrapping his arms around you, wiggling both of your bodies side to side. “This is so cool!” he squeaked, peppering your face in kisses. “What. a. mind.” he added, emphasising every word he said. 

“This isn’t about me! You are the special one!” you laughed, his kisses slightly tickling you. 

“I would have never known if it wasn’t for you - is something really special if no one knows about it?” he flicked your forehead before you could even argue against it. 

You took a second to observe your boyfriend once again, the way the scribbles on his face exactly charted the rarest and most romantic constellation, out of them all. It was hard to believe in coincidences now; he truly was your soulmate, your twin flame, your other half. There was no other explanation. The connection between the two of you was instant - something clicked the first time his eyes locked with yours. And even if you destroyed everything when you decided to embark in this journey with him, something fell exactly into place as if it was always meant to be. Chaos became the only order things could have, and like the seemingly random freckles on his face, everything was now making sense. 

“I love you, fire fist.” you smiled, biting your bottom lip trying not to burst into tears. You couldn't explain it; you loved him before but somehow you loved him even more now. A new light shone upon everything as a new, intense wave of happiness overwhelming your heart.  

[defectivevillain]

judgment by the hounds

pairing: Loki Laufeyson & Reader (can be read as platonic or romantic; reader's race is ambiguous and gender/pronouns are unspecified)

summary:

Loki is captured and held in S.H.I.E.L.D. captivity. However, he doesn’t attempt to break free right away. Instead, he bides his time by waiting for something—or, more accurately, someone.

You’re an FBI agent called in by S.H.I.E.L.D. to interrogate their newest prisoner, Loki Laufeyson.

word count: 5.6k | ao3 version

warnings: blood, injury & gore typical to SotL; manipulation & mind games

I thought about writing this as I was reading Silence of the Lambs — I imagined questioning Loki & having a similar dynamic with him during his temporary imprisonment. There aren’t any explicit references to SoL in here, but I wanted to include it as a fandom tag because Hannibal & Clarice’s dynamic really inspired this fic.

This is not canon compliant, and there will likely be some discrepancies. Just pretend this is an alternate timeline. :>

The title of this fic is from I’m Your Man by Mitski. The lyrics “I’ll meet judgment by the hounds… People always gave me love… Others were never to blame after all… You believe me like a god, I’ll betray you like a man” felt pretty relevant to this fic.

The reader is racially ambiguous, gender is ambiguous, and pronouns aren't used. warnings: canon-typical violence and gore (typical to SotL)

thanks anna (@pinocchiospissrock) for the beta! (any remaining mistakes are mine.) luv u and so excited to see u soon!!!! <333

If you told your younger self that your criminal investigative work would earn you a conversation with the legendary Nick Fury, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., your younger self would have laughed. The mere thought would be preposterous. Fury is the face of the entire organization, and the founder of the Avengers! What would a mere FBI agent like yourself do to even earn a moment with him, let alone a full conversation? 

Apparently, you’re becoming somewhat renowned for your investigative work. You’ve always avoided the press—otherwise you would have noticed your name cropping up in cases with big profiles in the public eye. You would’ve noticed that you were slowly starting to get more and more credit for your accomplishments; you would’ve been able to connect the dots between Nick Fury—desperate for information and willing to do anything to get it—and you—an FBI agent rising in the ranks for important work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit and Jack Crawford. 

Despite these recognitions, however, you can’t quite believe that you’re being flown to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in New York City to speak with Nick Fury. Truly, this feels like some kind of fever dream. As you’re escorted through the high-level security installments on the ground floor of the building, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re not meant to be here. This must be some kind of mistake, you’re thinking to yourself, even as you’re given a visitor ID badge. You’re led into a glass elevator that rises to the twentieth floor, through a cold stone hall and even more security installments. Eventually, you come face-to-face with a nondescript wooden door. The security guard knocks on the door and opens it for you, revealing a clean and modern space with black leather furniture and an array of windows (bulletproof and likely very durable) overlooking the street below. There is a figure seated at the grand desk in the center of the room. Nick Fury looks up at the sudden disturbance, his brown eye immediately assessing your form before moving to the guard in the doorway. He nods and the guard steps out of the room, closing the door behind them. 

“Agent, have a seat,” Fury offers. It’s an order, not a simple statement. You comply immediately and Fury raises an eyebrow. For a long moment, tension settles in the air as Nick Fury unsubtly scrutinizes you. Fury puts a contemplative hand on his chin and stares at you. Despite the eye patch covering his left eye, his menacing gaze is enough to send a shiver down your spine. 

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,” Fury remarks vaguely. You nod. “I need you to do something for me.” You raise an eyebrow. When he continues, any confidence you gained from the notion of him requesting something of you promptly fades from existence. He tells you about a god with a penchant for mischief that borders on cruelty—about a devastating attack on New York City that left thousands injured and hundreds dead. You had heard about the attack on the news, but you had too much going on to truly process what you were seeing. Fury tells you that this trickster, a Norse god by the name of Loki, is currently in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most secure containment. It’s clear S.H.I.E.L.D. is desperate for information, otherwise they wouldn’t be bringing you in for something like this—this is far above your pay grade. Norse gods were never mentioned in your training at Quantico.

“Loki has been largely uncooperative,” Fury continues, immune to the emotional whiplash you’re currently experiencing. “We needed to try a different approach.” He looks at you after that. “And we need more information. Can I count on you to do this?” You take a slow breath in. Do you really have a choice? 

“Yes, sir,” you respond. Fury regards you for another second, before evidently deciding that your answer is satisfactory. He then hands you a device, which appears to be a pass that allows you entrance into the high-security cells. It’s an effective dismissal. You take it and murmur a word of thanks, before stepping out of the room. With the security guard’s guidance, you’re able to learn the location of the high-security prison and you take another elevator ride. When the doors ding, a giant metronome sounds off in your head. You can’t go back now, you think to yourself as you cross the threshold of the elevator and step towards the reinforced metal door with a fingerprint and retinal scanner. You glance at the guard, who nods and urges you to continue. Somehow, in the brief time that you spoke with Fury, your information must've been registered in the system—as your name appears on screen after it scans your finger. You then lean down and allow the machine to scan your retina, before a blue light flashes once. You frown at the door, before seeing a screen flashing on the left side. You press the pad Fury gave you to the screen and the door clicks, swinging open ominously.  

You take a step forward and leave the door open, expecting for the guard to follow you. They shoot you a disbelieving look and take a step backwards, letting the door fall shut. You’re left alone in a hallway reminiscent of a steel prison. As you slowly walk down the narrow path between iron bars, you feel hard gazes boring into your very skin. Someone jeers at you. You keep walking until you reach the solitary cell at the end of the hall. For the first time since entering the space, you allow yourself to look up—only to look into the glimmering green eyes of Loki Laufeyson. 

Safe to say, Fury neglected to mention that Loki would be the single most intimidating individual you’ve ever had the misfortune and displeasure to meet. Staring at him through the thick walls of glass, you’re suffocated with a sudden, intense dread. Even if Fury hadn’t given you any background on him, you’re sure you still would’ve been able to surmise this man’s maleficence and cruelty. He has long dark hair, sharp features, and a positively malevolent grin on his face. 

“Hello,” you murmur guardedly. The thick walls of glass aren’t enough to ensure you of your safety—that attentive gaze cuts straight through your skin and sinks deep into the bone. The god raises an eyebrow at you, pausing for a moment to allow you the opportunity to turn tail and run away. You very nearly take the gifted opportunity, before you remember that information on the invasion could save lives.

“Are you lost?” Loki asks, regarding you with as much respect as someone regards a pebble beneath their feet. Your hands are ever so slightly trembling from your sides and you stuff your hands in your pockets, suddenly feeling the need to keep yourself occupied. 

“No,” You eventually reply. You decide to introduce yourself, before raising your eyebrows at the god in return. You resist the urge to ask him to introduce himself. You know who he is, and you would likely end up insulting him with the question anyway. Unfortunately, you’re going to have to be very careful around him. The slightest word or provocation would lose the information for good. Why are you being called in for this, again?

“What could possibly have possessed Fury to send a mere agent such as yourself to speak with me?” The god questions, echoing your very own thoughts. You take a deep breath and try to steel your nerves. 

“I’m a criminal investigator,” you respond, once your tongue is no longer ironed to the roof of your mouth. “I’ve spent most of my life studying how criminal types think and what motivates them. I want to ask you a few questions.”

“Interesting,” Loki hums. He doesn’t seem the least bit intrigued; rather, he appears incredibly bored. “And you think this Midgardian experience is enough to grant you a conversation with me? You know nothing of who I am and what I am capable of.” 

You want to be surprised, but you expected something along those lines. A brief white-hot fury overtakes you as you remember the tension in Fury’s shoulders, the withdrawn tone in his voice, how he seemed to expect you to fail. Everyone is expecting you to fail. “I know enough,” you respond, before you can contemplate the consequences of doing so.  In truth, Fury had given you Loki’s file earlier. He also left you with a few words of warning. You manage to tear yourself away from your conversation with Fury and focus on what you viewed in Loki’s file. The information comes to mind within seconds. “You caused quite the scene in Germany. I suspect that was the intention.” There is no acknowledgement that he’s even listening to you, save for the intense gaze that seems to be dissecting you for his own amusement. 

The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them. “You’re the adopted son of Odin and Frigga, and the brother of Thor. Your real father is Laufey, the Frost Giant King. You’re the God of Mischief. And you’re a constant thorn in the side of the Avengers and Nick Fury.”

“Those are just the facts,” you conclude. You’re met with nothing but silence. There’s an undercurrent of expectation in the air, as if he’s waiting for you to continue. You grit your teeth. Somehow, you have his attention now. It would be best if you didn’t lose it. “As for my first impressions… You’re manipulative, obviously. Cunning and clever. Selfish, extremely controlling. You derive pleasure from other people’s pain. You enjoy being the chessmaster—manipulating your pawns and discarding them the moment they’ve fulfilled their purpose.”

“Beneath all that, you’re frighteningly human. Jealousy, envy, a visceral desire for Odin’s approval, and a thirst for power… You delight in your darkest urges and scorn any of the ones that come close to resembling even a hint of genuine emotion.”

“Now will you answer my questions?” You finish. 

Loki’s head is down now. His shoulders are shaking and for a second, you think he’s crying. Then he raises his head, revealing a twisted grin on his face. “No one has possessed the courage to talk to me in such a manner in millenia,” the god remarks, his hands clasped behind his back. He takes a step forward and inspects you through the glass. You remember your fear from earlier. “Who are you, exactly?”

“I’ve already told you,” you answer. You’ve done this song and dance before, and you have enough experience to know nothing good comes from giving a criminal your name. In the few rare instances in which it seemed that they simply wouldn’t give in, you would give a fake name. You weren't foolish enough to try that with the God of Mischief, though. “Besides, that doesn’t matter. I’m here for information.” You repeat for what feels like the umpteenth time. 

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Loki says, studying you with scrutiny. Your skin crawls. Everything about this feels like a horrible idea. Not for the first time, you question why you were called in for this assignment. “I’m not allowed visitors otherwise—on account of the last one being found in his home with his throat slit.” There’s another flash of amusement in his eyes. 

“Fun,” you remark flatly. Your heart is racing out of your chest, but you know not to show your apprehension. Fear is Loki’s game. “Seriously, though. I assume you want to get out of here in the next millennium.” You remark. 

“Au contraire,” Loki replies. It takes you a few seconds to process what he says, and several more seconds to recall the translation: ‘On the contrary.’ You wait patiently for the god to continue.  “You don’t really think I’ll be released, do you? And don’t bother pretending otherwise—you don’t have the power or authority to make promises here.”

“I’m not sure why you’re entertaining conversation with me in the first place, then,” you reason. You feel lost in this conversation, admittedly. It’s taking an unhealthy amount of mental energy to keep yourself afloat in these verbal traps.

“Maybe I’m bored,” Loki drawls. In the fluorescent lighting beaming down on him, he looks every bit as royal as he is rumored to be. “Maybe I’m waiting for you to let your guard down, for your mental defenses to fade away and corrode into nothingness before my control slips into your psyche, forcing you to be a spectator as I pilot your body and mind.”

You stare at him for a moment, heart hammering away in your chest. Somehow, it’s that sentiment that cements the reality of the situation. You’re not qualified enough for whatever the hell this is. You’ve interrogated loads of criminals before, but they’ve never posed a legitimate physical and mental threat to you in the same manner that Loki does. You find yourself genuinely fearing for your safety as you stare at Loki’s glittering green eyes. 

As your heart races and you take a few steps backwards, you catch a sudden blur in your peripheral vision, before you’re struck with white-hot pain that flares up the left side of your face. You blink dazedly and bring a hand up to your left cheek, only to find blood splattered across your skin. There’s a jagged fragment resting on the floor near your foot—evidently the cause of the wound. You turn to the left, only to find the man from before clutching at the bars of his cell with ferocity—a crazed look in his eyes as he stares at you. Your gaze then falls to the porcelain toilet in the corner of his cell, with a notable chunk missing. That must’ve been where he got the shard. The side of your face is burning, hot blood trickling down your cheek. You press the back of your hand to the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Unsurprisingly, the wound doesn’t magically heal or stop bleeding. You grimace and set off down the hallway, intending to leave and find a first-aid kit. Just as your palm flattens on the door, Loki says your name.��

You pause, your cheek stinging. You feel Loki’s gaze at your back and you know you probably don’t have the luxury to continue walking away. Yet… you can’t bear to turn around. You open the door and walk away, unaware of the furious expression on Loki’s face. The security guard’s eyebrows climb up their face as they see the blood trickling down your face, but you simply hand them the keypad and walk away. 

You have nothing in lieu of information and a fresh, jagged cut on your cheek. You don’t expect to be called to the high-security cells again any time soon—not after that complete and utter failure. You leave S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters that day with a bandage on your cheek and wounded pride. The conversation with Loki keeps you up that night in your hotel room, as you turn over every statement in your head. There’s a notable disconnect between Loki’s words and his actions. Furthermore, if he’s truly so powerful, then why is he still contained? You know S.H.I.E.L.D. is well-equipped to handle villains, but Loki is a Norse god. Surely he could snap his fingers and transport himself somewhere else? If that’s the case, you can’t help but wonder why he hasn’t escaped yet. 

You avoid work the next few days to fully recover from the physical and mental injuries acquired that day. It’s nice to have some free time, but it is still somewhat dampened by the knowledge that you didn’t get any information from Loki. Fury is going to be, well, furious. 

Safe to say, you don’t expect to see Nick Fury on your doorstep one morning, a troubled expression on his face. You greet him and try to invite him in, but he remains outside. His dissecting gaze flits about your face, searching for something. “It’s been an interesting day, Agent,” he evidently decides to say.  

“How so?” You ask. Fury glances to his left and right, before taking a small step forward and leaning closer. 

“A prisoner in the high security area was murdered,” he murmurs, “He was found in his cell. It seems he was fed his own tongue before he choked and suffocated to death. Miggs. Awful guy, but… we had intended on getting more information from him.” Fury shakes his head. Meanwhile, you’re reeling. There’s no way the victim was the same prisoner who assaulted you earlier. That would be a truly troubling occurrence—one you’re not quite sure you could put down to coincidence. 

“Anyway…  I need you to speak with Loki again.” Fury continues, his expression serious. He raises an eyebrow upon seeing the slight shock that must be showing on your face. “You seem surprised.”

You nod. “I was under the impression that our conversation didn’t go well,” you decide to respond honestly. Fury seems to appreciate the truthfulness, although his eyebrows furrow and he takes a deep breath. 

There’s a beat of silence. “He’s refused to speak with anyone else we’ve sent,” Fury explains, “Since your last visit, he’s been exceptionally…Well. He asked for you specifically.”

What was Fury going to say just then? And, more importantly, did you even hear him correctly? Did Loki really ask to speak with you, even after the tense conversation you had? You’re immediately suspicious. 

“Listen,” Fury breaks off, looking conflicted and resolved all at once. “For whatever reason, he’s different with you. I’m not sure why, but whatever the reason, we need to take advantage. Loki has valuable information about the attack on New York.” 

“In reality, he asked for you a few days ago,” Fury continues, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. You look over to him in surprise. “I refused. But… since then, he’s been extremely disagreeable—and we’re running out of time.”

“I’ll try to speak with him,” you answer. That’s the best you can promise. You certainly can’t promise that it’ll be a productive conversation, or that you’ll get any information from him. Indeed, the last discussion you had with Loki, it felt as if you were disclosing more information than he was. Still, the prospect seems to be good enough for Fury. 

“Thank you, Agent,” he nods, returning the keycard that grants access to the high security area. You take a deep breath and follow him back to his car, steeling your nerves as the city buildings pass before your vision. Once you reach the headquarters, you walk down the halls and head to the elevators. Fury and you part ways as he gets off the elevator, and he leaves you with a brief nod. 

It only takes a few steps in the hallway of the high-security cells for you to notice that something’s missing. A cell is empty—the same one that Miggs had occupied before. You feel dread coiling in your chest, yet you can’t stop yourself from taking a step closer and getting a better look at the empty cell. There’s blood splattered all across the ground—although it appears as if someone tried to clean it, since it bears a closer resemblance to dark brown than red. The sheets of the mattress are clean and the cell looks entirely untouched, save for the stains across the floor and the noticeable chunk missing from the toilet. 

Your attention is captured by the cell—so much so that you forget your company. “Ah, what a pleasant surprise,” Loki remarks, sending your heart racing as you remember his presence. You take a deep breath and tear your eyes away from the evidence of Miggs’s death. As you break the distance between Loki’s enclosure and you, you can’t help but shake the feeling that he had something to do with the death of Miggs. You don’t have any proof, but the awful feeling stirring in your gut certainly makes you question what you thought you knew. 

Loki clears his throat pointedly and you remember yourself. “You asked for me,” you then answer cautiously. 

“Yes, but I wasn’t sure if Fury would oblige,” Loki drawls, regarding you with mild amusement. You’re not sure what he thinks is entertaining, so you just pretend not to have noticed his smug grin. “He doesn’t seem to care for me much.”

“I’d argue most of us don’t,” you hear yourself blurt out. You really need a better filter, especially in a conversation as important as this one. If you want information from Loki, you’ll have to be nicer to him. Despite that thought, Loki is staring at you with the same amusement as before. There’s no sense that the insult even registered. 

“And yourself?” The god asks, once again reminding you that you’re the one at the mercy of the conversation. You grit your teeth and try to remain calm, despite the overwhelming feelings of inadequacy that threaten to send you down the hall. 

“What about me?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“You said most of us,” Loki says, “Does that include you?”

You don’t bother to dignify that question with a response. “What do you want?” He doesn’t respond and you resist the urge to exhibit any signs of your growing impatience. “You asked to speak with me—I’m assuming you want something.”

“I have information you want,” Loki states, his eyes boring into yours and sending a prickling sensation down your skin. His intense gaze is unnerving, and you feel as if you’re being intensely scrutinized. “You have information I want. I propose a trade.”

You’re not surprised by the remark, save for the idea that you have something he wants. “I’m not quite sure what information I could give you,” you frown, shifting your balance slightly to keep your body occupied. You cross your arms over your chest and pretend you don’t feel entirely vulnerable in front of Loki. 

“I’ll be the one to determine that,” the god says. His next statement is entirely unexpected. “Now, tell me about yourself, your childhood.”

“What?” You choke out. “About myself? I don’t see how that’s relevant.” You break off. Loki’s gaze is focused on you with burning intensity. You take a shuddering breath in and try to summon some information that isn’t dangerous for you to disclose. “I’m a criminal investigator—have been for years. I’m from around here, grew up here.” You end up settling for a mix of ambiguity and omission. Loki seems to pick up on it regardless. 

“Don’t lie to me.” His gaze is dark and dangerous. It suddenly feels as if the temperature dropped in the space around you. You’re pinned under the god’s watchful eyes. “I think I deserve more than that, don’t you?” You can’t find the words to answer. You have, once again, severely underestimated Loki’s capabilities. 

“Very well, then,” Loki murmurs some time later, after it’s clear that you’re unwilling to give him more information. His posture is effortlessly casual, but you know it’s just a façade. “I can start for you. You worked as a criminal investigator for years in your hometown, until you decided to become an FBI agent. With more responsibility came more criminals, and closer calls. Even so, you began to gain notoriety for your cases. Your name appears in more and more press coverage. Meanwhile, Nick Fury grows increasingly frustrated with me, with the lack of information. He sees you on the morning news and finds his perfect solution. He calls you here to New York, tells you that he needs you for this pivotal role. An exaggeration, of course.”

“You agree with his offer—surely, you don’t have any other choice. Meanwhile, Fury promptly forgets your existence, until he needs you once more. A tool in a toolbox is all you are to him. Why else would he send you to me? He doesn’t have faith in your abilities, Agent—he just needs bait.”

You know it’s true, but it still hurts. Truthfully, you had suspected the same thing; something about the Norse god speaking on your thoughts cements them in reality. Indeed, why else would Fury have called you in? There are plenty of high-ranking officials that would’ve been better suited for such a task. 

“You come in here and provoke me,” Loki continues, as if you aren’t even there. He seems entirely in his element as he paces about his cell. “I attack you, then break out of captivity. A group of agents lurks outside to interrupt my eventual escape. The whole thing is laughably predictable, really.” Your eyes widen as you realize just why the security guard lingered outside the door. They aren’t guarding the door—it’s secure enough on its own. They’re guarding you, waiting for you to fail and for Loki to escape. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. 

“And, of course, you have a visceral desire for Fury’s approval,” he continues, repeating what you said to him mere days ago. You feel as if a bucket of ice cold water was just dumped all over you, making you shiver and question everything you thought you knew. Are you really so formulaic? Have you been lured into a false sense of confidence these past few years? You try to grapple with these questions, while the god stares at you. “Am I ‘in the ballpark,’ as you mortals say?” There’s a sharp grin on Loki’s face that deeply unsettles you. 

It takes you several moments to collect your composure and find the words to say. “I think you know you are,” you respond, ignoring your heart pounding out of your chest. It’s unnerving that Loki could glean that much about you in such a short time span. Despite his obvious attempt at mockery, you know that you need to answer his questions if you want information. You keep silent and wait for Loki to continue. 

“Now, you still haven’t given me anything,” Loki reminds you, dispelling any hope that he may have forgotten. You feel extremely restless and steadily avoid his gaze, even when you feel his eyes practically tearing holes through your form. “So, I ask once more: what was your childhood like?”

You can’t afford to argue this time—not if you want information. The glint in Loki’s eyes grows brighter with each tidbit you give him. At his request, you tell him about your past—everything from your childhood home to the relationships you have with your family. Time becomes fickle and you don’t realize you’re oversharing until you glance down at your watch and see that far too much time has passed.  “That’s more than enough,” you interject some time later. You don’t feel as if you can truly grasp the severity of your actions just now. Even so, you know that you’ve given him too much ammunition. You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache developing. “It’s your turn.”

“Very well,” Loki responds, his lips parting to reveal a crooked smirk. The expression on his face confirms your suspicions that he was planning on continuing the conversation until you stopped him. “I will answer two of your questions.” You feel your heart drop. 

“Two?” You exclaim in disbelief, “You must’ve asked me a hundred just now-”

“I didn’t force you to answer any of my questions,” Loki reasons. Unfortunately, he’s correct in that regard—you should’ve been more wary. You let your guard down and he was content to take advantage of it. “Now, do you want information or not?”

You grit your teeth. Damn it. Two questions is a very insignificant number. You try to remember what Fury told you mere minutes before. “He’s been extremely disagreeable… and we’re running out of time.” You can’t afford to slip up here. 

“Fine,” you say. The look on Loki’s face doesn’t change, but you can still sense arrogance radiating off of him. “Why?” You decide to ask. 

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Loki drawls, continuing to pace about. He looks completely and utterly bored. “Why does one do anything?” You resist an eye roll. 

“Why did you do it?” You rephrase. You don’t need to specify for Loki to understand what you’re referring to: the attack on New York, the Chitauri invasion. Surely, knowing his motivations would help S.H.I.E.L.D. prevent instances like it from happening in the future. Besides, you’re not sure what else to ask. As has been established, you don’t think you’re the best fit for this task of vital importance. 

“I was seeking revenge,” Loki answers without hesitation. His unblinking gaze is beginning to unnerve you. “Is that what you’d like me to say?”

“I’d like you to tell the truth,” you assert, unable to hide some of your irritation. The god picks up on it and smiles infuriatingly, as if your annoyance is entertaining. Perhaps it is entertaining to him. You take a deep breath and remind yourself to keep calm. It would do you no good to get riled up. You have one job: collecting information. 

“The truth,” Loki remarks languidly, tearing you from your thoughts. His answer comes without hesitation. “I was bored.” Boredom. Boredom pushed him to wreak havoc on the city, causing hundreds of casualties and inordinate bloodshed. Loki was motivated by a lack of fulfillment. The thought is extremely disconcerting. On the one hand, you’re not sure what you were expecting. On the other, you had been looking for a more clear-cut, legitimate reason to contextualize his actions. You weren’t planning on excusing his crimes, but if he provided something that seemed to somewhat justify his reaction, you would’ve been able to get more information and also deduce a clear motive to these kinds of attacks. Perhaps that was your error in thinking, though: Loki can’t be a predictor of a pattern. He is wildly unpredictable, and trying to predict him will both waste your time and result in more frustration.

“One more question,” Loki reminds you tauntingly. You grit your teeth, pushing past your irritation. The god seems to enjoy emphasizing the differences between you and him—your mortality, your weakness.  

You try to think a little harder. Admittedly, a particular question has been weighing on your mind throughout most of your interactions, burrowing into your subconscious and refusing to let go. After a few moments, you decide to verbalize it. “Why haven’t you escaped yet?”

The god laughs. “Haven’t I?” Loki asks in response. A shiver rolls down your spine. You watch warily as he takes one step forward, then another. From what you’ve seen, the god will often pace about his cell. However, his current movements make it seem as if he has a purpose, an endgame. Loki’s eyes flash. He takes another step forward and his foot crosses the threshold where the glass is supposed to be. Loki grins and crosses the entirety of the boundary, before looking at you with a truly malicious smile. He’s free from captivity.  

You can’t even take a step backwards before the god is there, extending a hand to your temple and pressing his fingertips past your skin, into your very being. And suddenly, you’re a child again. Everything you told Loki is rushing through your head all at once. You’re trapped in vivid memories. The world around you is blurred with childlike joy and hope. Your surroundings all seem to fall away; despite your knowledge that you aren’t a child anymore, you can’t escape this onslaught of memory that Loki seemed to force on you. 

When Loki removes his hand from your temple, you nearly choke on your breath. There’s an excruciating pain running through your head—strong enough to make you lose your balance. Despite the fact that you’re horribly outmatched, you still try to get away from him. You’re not sure what the God of Mischief wants, but you doubt it’s anything good. This interest—as Fury said—that he’s cultivated in you… It’s dangerous. 

You should be dead right now. Surely, were you any other S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, your corpse would be slowly decaying on the ground in front of you. You heard whispers of what Loki did to some of the agents that spoke to him before you. One of them was directly admitted to a mental hospital—unable to ground themself in reality. The thought shakes you to your core. 

You take another step backwards, only for him to match your retreat with a step forward. Your balance is growing more and more unsteady as you try to fight against the vertigo threatening to send you tumbling. Your vision is oscillating between painful sharpness and indiscernible blurriness. “What do you want from me?” You manage to spit out through the pained haze. 

“Everything.” Loki answers. Before you can push him away, he’s bringing a hand to your temple again. Your mind explodes with energy and you feel your eyelids fluttering shut of their own accord. You try your hardest to remain conscious and you manage to catch glimpses: Loki’s hand slipping from your temple as you fall to the ground, Loki carrying you out of the building. You’re stuck in the recesses of your own mind, with no hope for escape. Eventually, you’re forced to succumb to the darkness lurking in the corners of your vision.

It may strike you all as strange that Loki stays in captivity rather than escaping, but I think I can justify that with a multitude of reasons. First of all, he's immortal—time passes differently for him. While a mortal may agonize at the thought of being trapped in a capsule for an indefinite time, Loki is entirely unbothered by it. He knows that he has the ability to escape; the question then becomes when he will escape, not if he will escape. Second, Loki has a reason to stay: the reader. He is interested in the reader [the nature of this interest is up to you]. He enjoys the conversations they have, especially when they’re under the false guise of him being trapped and in a position of need. The God of Mischief isn’t one to rush things. Anyway, that’s how I justified these choices to myself. *shrugs*

I desperately wanted to add something like this, but I couldn’t find an authentic moment for it… It may seem a little out of character, too… So I’ll throw it here and walk away:

“You should put some ointment on that,” Loki suggests, looking pointedly at the scar on your face. “Don’t Midgardians care about that sort of thing? Quite foolish, in my opinion.” “How is that foolish?” You ask. “Scars are proof of conquest,” Loki responds. “Of course,” you sigh.

[comic-book-jawns]

HAGS

“Figured it out?”

“Uh, yep!”

“So that’s a no.”

“Alex.”

“What did you write, Kar?”

The 14-year-old huffed, only feeling a little guilty for wishing that her sister wasn’t the one picking her up.

“I thought you had a date with Max.”

Oddly, the 17-year-old grimaced. But then smirked before Kara could do more than notice.

“Nice try, but it’s 12:30.”

Stupid half-day.

“Yeah. And I’m starving. So you’re not allowed to interrogate me.”

“I’ll drive us to Noonan’s right now if you tell me.”

Then it was Kara’s turn to grimace as her stomach grumbled. She hung her head with a sigh.

“Have a great summer.”

“What?”

It was curt, her sister clearly not connecting the dots. And, well, Alex never said she had to explain.

“Oh my god, HAGS! You wrote HAGS in her yearbook!”

Dang it.

“No! I wrote it out. And drew a little heart next to my —”

“KARA!”

“I know!”

She was a coward. A hopeless, awkward, acne-jawed coward.

“After you spent weeks writing drafts!”

“Well, what I am supposed to do about it now?!”

Kara should have learned by now that asking Alex that question was almost always a mistake.

But alas, she hadn’t. Which was how she found herself getting manhandled up Lena’s driveway 10 minutes later.

“You can let go now.”

“Can I?”

Fortunately, Kara was spared the additional embarrassment of bickering with her sister in front of an audience…. by the audience herself.

“Kara? Alex?”

“Lena!”

Her fellow middle school graduate glanced between them curiously while Kara gawked at the 12-year-old casually curled up on the roof.

“Kara has something she’d like to tell you!”

That’s the moment Alex decides to let go and strolls back to her car parked on the street. The joke was on her, though, because Kara was totally going to give her silent treatment on the ride to Noonan’s… which Alex would probably appreciate.

Dang it.

“Kara?”

Kara helplessly glanced back up and nearly had a heart attack as she found Lena cautiously standing.

“I’m going to come down!”

“Sounds good!”

She added a thumbs up for good measure before she could think better of it. Though she could have sworn Lena smiled before turning toward the window.

“So… Alex said you —”

“You’re my friend!”

Kara blurted it out, and Lena went kinda wide-eyed. But Kara didn’t think she could have stopped even if the other girl had looked wholly horrified.

“And I know that might sound just as lame as what I wrote in your yearbook. But it’s not. Not to me. I think friends are really important. And I’ve always liked making them. But now I think that’s because I hadn’t met you yet.”

That got more of a reaction, Lena blinking and then ducking her head. Shoot!

“Because I’ve loved becoming your friend, Lena!”

The younger girl looked up, though seemingly without thinking because her face scrunched up like she was scolding herself.

“No, really! I look forward to talking to you every day! And it’s okay if you can’t say the same. You’re way more mature than me even though you should really be in sixth grade. Which I guess is why you’re not. Aside from you being a genius.”

Lena rolled her eyes as she usually did whenever Kara complimented her intelligence, though her cheeks were definitely a little pink.

“And I know I probably annoyed you sometimes. Or maybe a lot of the time. And you probably wanted to keep your head down. Because starting at a new school in eighth grade has to stink. But I’ve lived in Smallville my whole life, and I’ve never met anyone I like as much as you.”

That last part hadn’t been in any of her drafts. But she knew now it was what she’d been trying to say all along.

And, well, she’d never seen Lena smile so wide, to point that it was actually a little wobbly. Like she didn’t how to maintain it.

“I’ve never met anyone I like as much as you, either.”

“Really?!”

Kara beamed at thought of Lena being her best friend. Lena snorted softly.

“Is that really so hard to believe coming from a foster kid?”

Oh.

Lena never talked about it. But they lived a small town. Kara didn’t not know.

The younger girl ducked her head again as she cleared her throat.

“Did you read what I wrote in yours?”

Kara winced sheepishly. She’d been so ashamed of what she’d written in Lena’s that she hadn’t opened her own yearbook at all since Lena had handed it back.

“You might want to.”

Kara’s half-formed apology didn’t make it past her mouth as she found Lena smiling again, almost smirking.

And Kara’s eyebrows only rose higher as her best friend in the span of only a few seconds: stepped closer, shot up on her tiptoes to kiss Kara’s cheek and ran inside with a with very red face.

Huh.

Admittedly, that was all the thought Kara gave to this new way of celebrating their friendship before dashing to the car and yanking her yearbook out of her backpack before she even closed the passenger side door.

She frantically scanned the inside cover and first page and was about to turn the page when she finally spotted cursive tucked into a corner.

Have a great summer!

- Lena <3

[petitreve]

don't know if it means the requests are open but-

here are some ideas I'm dying to read :

A) a Yuu that knows well about the fae and refuses to give their true name to the fae boys, say "thank you" directly (it's better to say that you appreciate it bc otherwise you put yourself in debt) etc...

B) A Yuu that is a girl but uses shapeshifting potions to attend school, how others find out, if they keep the secret, if Azul makes them sign a contract...

C) Reader who instead of being a happy-go-lucky type is super calm, collected and even a little bit evil if you will

I am SO sorry this took me so long, hopefully it was worth the wait.

Yuu with knowledge about fae creatures.

Malleus:

Truly, I don’t believe Malleus would understand. He never really gets invited to things so he’s hardly ever around humans. Not to mention the rest of the student body fear him.

While he knows that you don’t fear him, he wouldn’t go as far as to believe that you would refuse a gift from him based on some legends from your world.

It’s no secret that dragons enjoy shiny things, so when Malleus saw a Diamond incrusted bracelet his mind instantly went to you. He bought it without a second thought. He just had to find the right moment to give it to you. He knew that you’d love it.

It didn’t take long for the dragon to find you leaving the usual bench you’d do your homework on, it was much quieter than at Ramshackle with Grim. He quickly made his way over to you, calling you the nickname you had told all of Diasomnia to cal you, excited to show you the treasure he got you. When he opened the box your eyes lit up, “Malleus, it’s beautiful!”

Your reaction brought a soft smile to the boys face, “Here. It’s yours.” He frowned as your face dropped and he could have sworn he saw a quick moment of panic in your eyes.

“Oh-. I-. That’s very sweet of you Malleus,” his heart swelled with pride at your words but soon deflated as you continued on, “but I can’t accept this. I’m sorry.”

Malleus watched as you left, he had worried he made you uncomfortable. But he chalked it up to you not knowing him for long, maybe you just didn’t wish to accept such an expensive gift so soon. He had sworn that he would try again.

He had a short talk with Lilia about your reaction when you got back, Lilia felt bad for the boy he practically raised for not realizing the truth. But Lilia didn’t want to be the one to break his heart. Malleus would find out soon enough why you refused the gift.

You both still went on your evening stroll despite how awkward it felt. If Grim was there he could practically bite through the air. You both quietly talked about studies, the occasional question from Malleus on if you can remember anything new from your world. Until Malleus spotted some wild flowers growing beside the path. You were still going ahead talking about random things Grim says until you noticed the boy no longer with you and turned around to find the dragon knelt on the ground picking flowers.

Part of you wanted to take a picture of him with your ghost camera, but before you could he turned to you holding the small bouquet he picked for you. “For you, child of man.” He took note again on how you fidgeted.

“Malleus, I ca-“ he cut you off with a slight frown. “You can. They’re for you. I don’t understand why you keep rejecting… me.” Watching him connect the dots was enough to rip someone’s heart out. “It’s because what I am, isn’t it?”

He knew about the superstitions that humans had about fae, but he had assume with as much time as you spent with him that you would know him better than that. “I would never try to trick you into a debt, you’re too important to me.”

You took his arm in your hand trying to avoid the talk. The walk back to Ramshackle was silent, Malleus was close to giving up. That morning he found a small box on the desk of his first class along with a note that read, “If I give you a gift first, you’re in debt to me. Not the other way around.”

He opened the box with a soft smile to find a small plush dragon and a doll with a crown. He heart swelled, he smiled widely not caring about anyone staring. He was excited to be able to give you gifts now. It meant more than anything to him.

Lilia:

Lilia has been around for a long, long, long, long, long… you get the gist. The point is, Lilia would understand right away why you refused his gift. Does that make it hurt any less? No. The man fought in a war for this, and the human he cares about refuses to accept a gift from him.

Contrary to popular belief, Lilia wouldn’t tease you about it. That’s one of the few things he believes to be off limits.

Lilia has many things in his collection. He’s been around so long, he’s seen just about everything. Things from past lovers, past friends. I believe he buys something special, like a necklace, for each of his past lovers. That way once they’re gone he has something to remember them by.

Lilia finally found the perfect one for you. The color of the pendant went with your eyes perfectly. When adorn on your neck it would truly bring out the sparkle in your eyes. So of course he had to gift it to you, it would be a crime not to. Beauty deserves to be with beauty.

But the reaction in your eyes wasn’t the one he was hoping for. He watched as fear flashed through your eyes momentarily, he knew that fear. He had seen it many times in the eyes of humans longs before. He truly hoped he would never see it in yours. The thought was enough to send a shock of pain through his heart, but seeing it in person? That was a completely different feeling of pain.

“Lilia… I… I can’t accept this..” he watched helplessly as you shuddered out. He knew he had done nothing wrong for you to believe he would trick you in such a way. It was just a cause of humans fearing what they don’t understand. You didn’t fully understand his culture, so of course you would be afraid. Those fearful humans had been telling you stories of evil Fae for… probably when you were as small as Silver was when he took him in.

He looked down at the pendant before looking back to you, “You don’t have to accept it now beastie. I understand.”

“Lilia I-..”

“Beastie… it’s alright. How about we go for a walk? We could stop at Sam’s shop and buy some more tuna for Grim? Maybe… prank the first years? Hm?”

He was quickly back to his cheerful self knowing that soon you would come around to accepting his gifts. You never could deny him for long.

And he was correct with his assumption. He was curious when Ace originally had approached him with a small box. The ginger boy said it was from you. Lilia held his excitement in as much as he could when he opened the box.

Where he was met with a little plush bat holding a heart.

He knew that this meant that you were finally accepting the idea of presents.

Wow. Three days. You really held out there, huh Y/n?

Sebek:

I truly believe Sebek would be the least understanding, given his already low opinions on humans. He would be quite offended, on Malleus’s part he claims, that you’d refuse such a gift. Truly, he’s hurt. He doesn’t understand why you would believe such foolish rumors about the Fae. But of course you’re human. Humans are such foolish creatures alone.

He tries to talk to Lilia about it, and for once Lilia is honest. Telling Sebek about how humans believe Fae to trick humans into debt. Whether it be for labor, their children, any “important” looking object. Or just to mess with them.

At first Sebek couldn’t believe how anyone could believe those preposterous tales, but humans aren’t the smartest of creatures. That he knows for sure.

Sebek was, of course not thinking about you at all that’s ridiculous human stop making assumptions, running errands for Master Lilia. He needed to get a few things for the next concoction that Master Lilia would make for dinner. Sevens help everyone in the dorm.

He saw it. A small brooch.

The brooch was a small mouse. He didn’t know why, but it called to him. Instantly he, regretfully, thought of you. He didn’t understand why. But before he could ask himself, he had already paid and was halfway back to his own dorm. Ready to give you the brooch the next day.

“HUMAN!” His voice could be heard all through the courtyard. You turned on instinct just for him to hold out his hand with the small brooch sitting inside of his palm.

“Oh Sebek! It’s very cute!”

“… Human! I got this as a… kind gesture! You may take it now.” He watched you impatiently as you froze slightly. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, and he didn’t like that.

“That’s… very sweet of you Sebek. But… I can‘t take this.”

It was almost like a train had just rammed right over his heart. He didn’t understand this feeling. Why does he care if he disappoints you? Why does he care how you view him? For once Sebek was speechless.

“.. I have to go.. I’ll see you later Sebek..”

He watched as you left for the next class, in shock. He didn’t understand half of the things going on in his head. He tried again the next day, but same answer. He sat and listened to all of Lilias stories.

He was disappointed. Humans are shallow horrible creatures, but he truly thought you were better. He tried to see you as little as possible.

Of course until you started approaching him at lunch with a small box. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t leave Young Master alone. So, he had to face you.

Before he could speak you held out the small box to him. He looked at the box before looking up at you.

“.. open it!”

He thought about returning it back to you like you refused to take the brooch from him. But he had already started opening it and pulling out what was hidden inside before he could register what was happening.

What he pulled out wasn’t what he had expected. In his hands sat a small, hand made, plush cat.

He looked up at you confused.

“… you said your mother is a nocturnal Fae… cats are… nocturnal.. so I thought…”

He sat there, dumbfounded. He always thought humans were shallow creatures. But you hand made him a gift, keeping in mind what type of Fae he told you his mother was.

Without thinking he reached into his pocket, pulling out the broach and pinning it onto your uniform.

“… thank you Human.”

[paraliveimaginesblog]

hi i like the new list jdsjbs might have letter 9 with hajun yeon? well I imagine a context where he and mc have had triplets hehe so you can imagine all the lovely chaos that happens with no spare time for them until uncle allen or Anne comes to take care of the naughty ones and they finally rest for a while :') Thank you!

(hajun getting triplets is truly just karma)

Hajun Yeon:

“Surprise!”

And you were surprised, as Anne hadn’t even called before they showed up at their doorstep. They struck a cute little pose just in case you forgot them, which was impossible as despite living separately from them now both Anne and Allen still invaded your home daily like they lived there. You never really minded, telling Hajun to stop fooling himself about calling the upstairs rooms ‘guest bedrooms’ when they were clearly meant for the only two friends he had. The comment had really solidified that you were a match made in heaven for someone like Hajun but he didn’t bite back, likely because he knew there was no point in arguing the obvious.

But still, Anne was generally the one courteous enough to let you know when they wanted to drop in.

“Is something wrong?” You must’ve looked frazzled because Anne reached out to straight your hair up, smiling contently while you let them do what they had to.

“Nope! Just came to get my kids for a shopping trip!”

“Yeah?” Your head tilted in confusion but you felt your son at your back, leaning from under your arm as he looked up at Anne.

“You’re dropping me off at Uncle Allen’s, right?”

“It depends on if the place looks like a maze that’ll gobble you up or not, but yeah.” Anne playfully pinched at their cheeks in greeting, kneeling to their level which must take incredible balance considering the height on their heels. “Can you get your brother and sister and tell them Anne is here to save the day?”

You feel like you’re missing something, not connecting dots or perhaps just completely blacking out on previous plans that had been made. Were you supposed to go out with them tonight? Hajun, the one who normally remembered things, hadn’t mentioned anything lately… Having triplets was one of the most exhausting things in the world, and even as they grew older with more of an ability to occupy themselves, it felt like the chores around the house tripled too, leaving you with little to no free time for yourself. Even with Hajun’s help there were some days that felt hopeless.

“It was a surprise for Hajun, too,” Anne giggled, able to read your expression quite easily. “I called him this morning to let him know I wanted to take the kids back to school shopping! Since they don’t go to school with a boring uniform I thought it’d be fun to help them find their own styles.”

You could’ve cried at how helpful and kind Anne had proven themselves to be yet again, reaching out to give them a hug which they happily reciprocated. They didn’t know if they wanted kids themselves someday but getting two nephews and a niece left them quite happy. They patted your back as you pulled away, all three of your kids now lined up neatly at the door. You received hurried kisses that almost hurt your feelings if you weren't also craving a moment to yourself, telling them to be on their best behavior which you knew they took as a challenge rather than an order.

When you stepped back into your living room you saw your husband lounging on the couch, pretending to read though you knew he was actually waiting for you. The kids were ready almost too quickly, considering you hadn’t been on time once since the three of them were born, and you suspected he knew a little bit longer than Anne had implied. You can’t curse him yet though, there’d be plenty of time for that when the kids were back home.

“I can’t believe we’re alone for the first time in…forever.”

You flopped yourself practically on top of him, legs thrown across his lap as Hajun chuckled and patted your thigh affectionately. It was nice not to cram onto it with three other bodies; they were little but they were all starting to grow taller, and each wanted to lay down or stretch their bones specifically when their siblings tried to sit next to them. Hajun interrupted your thoughts when his arm wrapped around your shoulder, bringing you close enough to exchange a kiss.

“Finally alone, my love,” Hajun hummed against your lips, his next kiss slower and much more deliberate; you don’t know the last time you’d had uninterrupted intimacy, realizing that you truly missed your husbands touch despite laying next to him every night, “What ever will we get up to?”

 “I can think of a few things.”

[soulmate-game]

I guess I have to make up for AO3’s crash by dipping into my google docs and uploading every chapter of The Heroes’ Game on here for you guys. Once I run out of reruns of The Heroes’ Game, I’ll just have to start cranking out new chapters/fics/one shots.

Sigh. Look what I do for my your boredom.

—*—*—*—*—*

Chapter 1

Soulmates. That gooey, gushy, over-sentimentalized, overly relied-upon concept that was unfortunately (or fortunately, for romantics) very real. But unlike stories or movies, it was not uniform. There was not one universal soulmark or set type of soul bond. There were romantic soulmates, platonic soulmates, even familial soulmates (a subdivision of the above platonic, more specific yet stronger due to the distinction). But not only were the types of soul bonds broken into three separate categories, but the variety of types of soulmarks that a pair (or triad, in some rare cases) could end up with was still being discovered. Already, there were almost a hundred different catalogued forms that a soul bond could come in. All of them studied and confirmed by both science and magic as being valid. Even the timing that a soul bond chose to reveal itself could vary individual to individual.

Which led to the current dilemma.

A certain half-Asian girl with her blue-black hair up in pigtails was forced to watch as a blond boy and Japanese girl gaped at one another. As everyone present watched, bright spiraling designs that seemed to be made of light itself etched themselves on one arm of both teens, starting from where their hands gripped one another. The blond had tripped down the stairs, only for his hand to be caught by the smaller Asian girl and bright light to erupt from their palms.

The half-Asian, half-French girl at the bottom of the stairs could only observe in mute dismay as a swirling foil of pulsing maroon light sank itself into the right arm of Adrian Agreste, bright neon green markings adding detail to the stylized weapon. A matching symbol, orientation flipped and colors inverted, etched itself in glowing light on the right arm of Kagami Tsurugi.

They were soulmates.

The only person in Marinette’s class other than herself without a visible soul mark or completed bond (until now), the only person Marinette had believed herself capable of being with, had a soul mate. And by the way they stared into each other’s eyes even as Adrien continued to dangle perilously over the concrete steps, it wasn’t platonic.

Marinette felt cold, as if someone had stuffed a funnel down her throat just to dump ice directly into her stomach.

When Chat Noir immediately stopped hitting on Ladybug only to apologize in private and reveal he had met his soulmate, Marinette connected the dots. The magic of the Miraculous helped protect the identities of the wielders, but could not hold up against significant hard proof. That, and Marinette was getting more and more immune to the lesser Miraculous magic as she trained to become the next Guardian.

On the rooftops, Chat was still her partner. Despite showing up less often during Akuma attacks or nightly patrols due to having dates, he was still reliable whenever he showed up. But as Adrien Agreste, he and Marinette had never been further apart.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Still sulking?” The all-too-familiar voice of Chloe Bourgeois cut through Marinette’s intrusive thoughts, the usually haughty tone surprisingly gentle. After quite a bit of time, introspection, and character development, Chloe had become a good friend of Marinette’s. Still incredibly hard to tolerate at times, but dependable.

The black haired girl just groaned, dropping her face into her hands. “He was my first real crush, Chloe,” the girl complained, clearly still hurt. “I loved him. Or I thought I did, anyway. You can’t expect me to heal from it all that quickly.”

“Of course not,” The blond heiress agreed easily, shrugging even as she put a forkful of food in her mouth. Maybe trying to have girl talk with Marinette on the fourth floor of a five-star hotel wasn’t the best idea, her short friend being incredibly uncomfortable in the atmosphere despite her personally made clothing being more than acceptable for the environment. “But it’s been two months, Mari. It’s time to straighten your spine, and get out there looking again! You don’t need Adrien, just like you don’t need Alya or sausage-hair or any of the idiots that flock with them in our class,” the girl reasoned. “Adri-kins is sweet, but he has the entirely wrong approach to Lila, you know. Convincing you to stay quiet was the worst advice he could have given. Staying quiet would never have allowed me to change or see that what I was doing was wrong,” Chloe pointed out. “Why would it work for her?”

“Adrien is just being careful,” Marinette defended weakly, pushing her salad around her plate disinterestedly. Knowing he was Chat just made her sympathize with his motives even more. He didn’t know Ladybug was in his class to back him up instantly, after all. But still, Marinette knew Chloe was right. Adrien might have good intentions, but his execution of them left a lot to be desired. “He doesn’t want another Akuma.”

“We get Akumas every week, he should just suck it up. We get even more Akumas from her lies than we would if everyone knew what she was doing,” the blond girl continued easily, not giving in to her friend’s weak excuses. “Besides, telling you to be quiet just puts you at the most risk of Akumatization. He should know that. It’s a miracle it hasn’t happened to you yet,” Chloe’s perfect babydoll-pink lips thinned as she stabbed a piece of chicken on her plate. “Lucky for all of us, not that he knows that.”

Marinette just sighed in agreement. “Can we just, you know, stop talking about this?” The meeker of the two asked gently, finally managing a mouthful of greens. “This is supposed to be our girl time. Ever since you transferred schools, we’ve had less and less time to just hang out.”

Chloe frowned, but gave in with a nod. “Sure, sure. Oh! Daddy told me about how you won that Wayne Enterprises competition for your class!” Chloé suddenly perked up, leaning over the table in newfound enthusiasm, her suddenly exclamation making the rich crowd around them side-eye the two teenage girls. Marinette flailed her arms in an attempt to get her friend to calm down and be quiet, an attempt that she should have known would be futile. All Chloe did was lean slightly back towards her own chair. “Well?! Are you excited to be going to Gotham?”

“Of course I am,” Marinette finally stopped trying to calm down her excitable friend. “Being able to travel to America, study the fashion of Gotham City, be inspired by the foreign landscape—“ Marinette sighed dreamily, not unlike the way she used to sigh over Adrien. Her hands even cradled her cheeks as she lost herself momentarily to her daydreams. Her hands dropped as the illusion was ruined by the memory that— “The whole class is going though, so it’s going to be an uphill battle to avoid Liar Rossi spoiling the whole trip.”

“Nope, you said you didn’t want to talk about her. This conversation will be sausage-hair free until dinner is over, at the least,” Chloe chided lightly. “I heard Bruce Wayne himself is inviting your class to a charity gala at the end of the trip, and that you will be presenting a speech as an honored guest and owner of the winning submission!” Chloé gasped suddenly, dropping her fork onto her plate with a cacophonous clatter. “Oh. Em. Gee. You’re designing your own dress, aren’t you? Who am I kidding, of course you are!” Chloé squealed in delight. “MDC, strutting her skills overseas, it’s glorious!”

“Shh, Chloe!” Marinette went right back to flailing her arms uselessly. “There’s a reason I haven’t publicly come out as MDC yet! Someone will hear you!” The short blue-eyed girl was looking around the room frantically. The waiters wouldn’t dare kick out the mayor’s daughter, but other patrons were already leaving early or requesting a different floor in order to escape the infamous Chloe Bourgeois Chaos. On the bright side, none of them seemed to be paying any attention to what the young rich girl had actually said.

“Oooh,” Chloe leaned over the table again with a wide, mischievous grin. “What if you finally meet your soulmate?” Her smile widened impossibly. “Of course you’d have an American soulmate. Someone blunt, maybe, to combat your constant worrying. He’d have to always tell you upfront exactly how he feels or else you’d constantly be worried about misinterpreting them,” the girl mused, completely ignoring Marinette’s groaning and moaning about how embarrassing she was being. “And everyone knows that nobody does Blunt quite as well as Americans. Ooh, I wonder what your mark is gonna be!”

“Hopefully something invisible,” Marinette finally spoke up, her remark a mere grumble as her nose scrunched up. “It would kind of ruin the whole secret identity thing if it was noticeable, right? Do soul bonds even care about secret identities? Oh no,” Marinette blanched, spiraling in true Marinette Dupain-Cheng fashion. “What if it’s on my face? The magic can’t hide something that identifiable! Everyone will know who I am, and then Hawk Moth will attack my family and isolate me and attack me out of costume or akumatize me, and then he’ll make his wish, and then world war three will actually happen, and—“ The ramble was thankfully stopped by perfectly manicured hands slapping over Marinette’s mouth, one blond eyebrow raised at her as Chloe kept the word vomit from continuing stubbornly.

“No. Stop catastrophizing, the worst-case scenario doesn’t always happen, girl. La—“ Chloe glances around the suddenly half-empty room and lowered her voice. “You know who is such a deep part of you that there’s no way your soul bond will ignore that. I seriously doubt it will cause your identity to come out.”

Marinette’s shoulders slumped in relief. She waited until Chloe removed her hands and sat back down before saying softly; “I just wish you could come with me. Then it would be bearable.”

Chloé gave one of her oh-so-rare soft smiles to the smaller girl, nodding. “I know. I wish I could go too, but I can’t miss a whole month of school. But you’ll have Alix with you, which is better than nothing. And besides, everyone in Paris knows I’m Queen Bee,” Chloe flipped her hair haughtily, making Marinette grin. “I wouldn’t want to intimidate Gotham’s heroes.”

“In other words,” Marinette started slyly, a teasing grin overtaking her lips as she avoided Chloe’s gaze playfully. “You don’t want to risk attracting the attention of Gotham’s rogues because you couldn’t handle them, right?”

Chloe spluttered in denial, tossing her napkin at Marinette in false anger. “How dare you! The Queen Bee can handle any villain!” Chloe became serious again. “Be careful while you’re over there, yeah? Me, Ryuuko, and Viperion can keep Paris safe while you’re gone but you will only have Alix.”

And Chat, Marinette thought to herself, but Chloe doesn’t need to know that.

“It’s better if Ladybug doesn’t appear in Gotham at all,” Marinette agreed, “So I’ll be as careful as possible. The less evidence anyone has to connect me and Ladybug, the better.”

Chloe nodded. “Of course. Now, did you see Clara’s last music video?” The blond heiress/superhero was turned into a common teenager again as she squealed in delight. “It. Was. Fabulous. And the dress you made her for it? I want one.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Of course this would happen. Marinette stood in the lobby of the hotel where her and her class were staying while in Gotham, with no classmates or teachers in sight and the bus she was supposed to board already gone. At least I’m fluent in English, or else I’d be screwed, she thought to herself. Resigned to the fact that she wouldn’t be able to catch up to the bus, Marinette instead went over to the hotel information desk and asked for directions to the Gotham Museum of History, where her class had left to visit.

At least she had money for a cab.

A cab that apparently decided to kick her out two blocks from her destination in favor of picking up a couple that were positively dripping in expensive jewelry. Marinette dusted herself off, adjusting her purse on her shoulder with a frown. She couldn’t blame him for looking after his own finances, but he didn’t have to chase after tips that blatantly. The girl didn’t even bother arguing with the man, simply handing over the cash she owed him before turning in what she thought was the right direction, if she was reading the map on her phone correctly. It was already dark out, not surprising considering how their plane had arrived in the afternoon and they only got a few hours to rest before visiting the museum as their first activity of the trip.

Quickly memorizing what she thought was the right route, Marinette tucked her phone back into her purse and smiled at Tikki, who hid inside it. “Alright,” Marinette whispered to her Kwami. “I hope I haven’t missed too much!”

Quickly closing her bag, the girl started off towards her destination.

And promptly got lost.

“I thought I saw it this way…” she groaned to herself when she realized she didn’t recognize anything around her, and it had only gotten darker in the past half hour she had been walking. At least being Ladybug keeps me in shape.

Marinette straightened her shoulders, resigning herself to retracing her steps for the twentieth time. She turned on her heel, walking forward as her bright blue eyes scanned her surroundings for anything that might lead her to the museum.

Until she realized the street was oddly empty, and a soft crunch of glass sounded from behind her. Marinette had prepared for this, at least. I’m being followed. Careful to remain calm and keep on walking as if nothing was wrong, Marinette strained her ears and eyes. She managed to catch a glimpse of her tail in a window— tall, broad shouldered, biceps like hams. The girl frowned. She could easily outmaneuver someone twice her size, but it would draw a lot of attention.

Firmly in Ladybug Mode, Marinette slowed down just enough to let the guy come a bit closer, before she veered sharply into an alley. Risky? Yeah, but it would be much less likely to make a spectacle of herself when she handed the guy his ass.

Sure enough, it didn’t take long for the guy to attempt to grab her. As soon as she felt his hand reaching for her though, Marinette easily clamped onto his wrist and used her momentum to hurl the assailant over her shoulder. The large body hit the gravel roughly on his back, letting out a moan that was half pain and half anger. Marinette backed up just enough to stay out of the man’s immediate range, her eyes continuing to dart around.

He hadn’t been alone.

His boots are good quality, so are his cargo pants. No gun, but several knives on his belt. Professional, not out to kill. Capture? As soon as Marinette saw two other guys dressed identically to the man now pulling himself back up to a standing position come out to surround her in the alley, she put it all together. Each newcomer had a tranq gun trained on her. Traffickers.

Ever the improviser, Marinette quickly rolled out of the way of the first few darts shot at her and grabbed a misshapen hunk of wood from the ground to block the next two projectiles like a warped shield. Lunging to her feet, she whipped the chunk of wood at one man with deadly precision, the plank hitting him square across the forehead hard and fast enough to knock him out.

One down. The guy she had initially thrown over her shoulder took advantage of her distraction to wrap his large arms around her, trapping her own against her torso. Not one to be trapped for long, Marinette jumped up and flipped herself upside down so that her legs wrapped around the guy’s neck, and twisted so that her body weight unbalanced him. Combined with his sudden lack of oxygen and field of view, the guy stumbled just enough for Marinette to get one arm free and slam her elbow into his most sensitive area. The guy released her with a howl, and Marinette twisted into a three-point landing. She paused only long enough to slam the side of her arm into a pressure point on howling man’s neck that knocked him out before springing up to face the—

Marinette paused. The last attacker was already tied up, a much different muscular form holding the cursing man a few inches above the ground.

Batman.

“You know, you shouldn’t walk around Gotham at night,” a casual voice sounded from behind her, making Marinette swing around to face Nightwing. The blue vigilante was leaned against the wall, with the first guy Marinette had knocked out already tied up at his feet. “But that was pretty good fighting. You made a few unnecessary moves, but overall not half bad.”

A third figure dropped down from a nearby roof, making Marinette whip her head to the side for a third time. Ugh, I’ll get whiplash at this rate. How are they able to move so noiselessly? The last figure was Robin, who made short work of tying up the last guy before standing and staring straight at Marinette. He crossed his arms, and the French girl suddenly had the feeling she was about to be scolded.

“What were you thinking, leading them into an alley? Are you an idiot?” Were the first words Robin said, instantly making Marinette puff her cheeks out in indignation. How dare he?!

“Robin,” Batman interrupted whatever retort Marinette had been about to make. “Ducking into the alley made it less likely that anyone else would be caught in the fight. It was not necessarily bad a move. That being said,” the most experienced hero in the alley turned to the girl in pigtails. Marinette gulped. It was really intimidating, having Batman’s state focused solely on her. She forced herself to stand as straight as possible. “It was still incredibly reckless. You had no idea how many people were following you, or what their skill level was. I highly suggest you act with much more caution next time. Or better yet, don’t travel Gotham alone even during the day.”

“I’ll be careful,” Marinette agreed, the three heroes instantly picking up on her French accent. “This wasn’t exactly my choice. First, my class left the hotel without me even though I’m the one who applied for the contest that even allowed us to come here in the first place. Then, my cab driver kicks me out a few blocks from where I asked him to take me, and then I got lost. Merde!” Marinette threw her hands up. “It’s not my fault I have bad luck. And you,” she turned and pointed to Robin, about to give him her two cents about his critique of her. That is, until when fingertip actually made contact with his chest and both teens visibly jumped.

It was like static the moment they made contact, but nothing visual happened. Marinette was about to shrug it off as nothing when—

Her vision split in half, like a TV screen when someone was playing a two-player game. Suddenly she could see her normal perspective, with Batman to her left, Nightwing to her right, and her finger straight ahead pushing into Robin’s chest, but she could also see a second perspective.

A perspective where she stared straight at herself.

She watched as her own blue eyes widened in disbelief. She watched as she stumbled back a few shocked steps, and as Robin did the same in front of her.

“Mon dieu,” Marinette cursed breathily, unable to move her eyes from Robin or acknowledge the frantic questions being posed to both of them from Batman and Nightwing. The teens just stared at one another. “Of course my soulmate would be a vigilante.”

“Shit,” Marinette had no idea which of the three heroes said that, but they all seemed to share the sentiment. Shit, indeed.

Nightwing shifted and said; “At least all the traffickers are knocked out.”

—*—*—*—*—*

[hanafubukki]

Oh my gosh. I can’t believe I thought of this……it’s funny and embarrassing considering twisted wonderland and Azul. I’m so behind on the game but in Azuls book…….🤣🤣🤣 what if Yuu was a girl right but Crowley cover story let them in on a “special” case. Ace, Deuce and Grimm have to pay off the debts and Fem Yuu goes with wolf boy (yes I love Jack) and the whole plot starts. Except for one thing after they serve everyone like in the mini game.

Azul: “Here the new contract states that if you fail to get the photograph in time then I own Miss Yuu and I’ll have her transfer to our dorm for the remainder of her time here and the ram shackle dorm becomes a cafe. You really brought in a lot of customers Yuu, I promise I’ll treat you well.”

Fem Yuu: ~ Jack moves in front of them~ “I-“

Deuce: “Don’t sign! As a man I can’t allow this to happen to a young lady. I’ll work my time off since I signed the contract. Yuu shouldn’t have to put herself in danger for an idiot like me.”

Ace: “Ya, I agree. I knew you were a slime ball but this is just a whole other level man. Not cool at all!”

Grimm: “Ya! Slime ball!”

Azul: ~he pushes up his glasses in confusion~ “Why would I put her in danger? None of my staff have ever been in real danger at the lounge and I was given the title of Prefect for a reason. It’s much better living conditions than in ramshackle and-“

Floyd and Jade: ~Laughing~

Azul: “What are you two laughing about?”

Floyd: “Man boss you really don’t know? You have to know right?”

Jade: “Come now Floyd. Let’s be gentle with Azul in explaining this to him”

Azul: ~Crosses his arms~ “I’ve worked out every part of the contract. What could I possibly be missing”

Floyd: “You want to own Miss Shrimpy over there”

Azul: “Yes have her transfer to our dorm so she can come to work right after school.”

Floyd: “Jade you explain, I’m getting wiped out from work. Exams almost killed me”

Jade: ~Walks over to Azul and whispers in his ear~

Azul: ~He nods for a moment and suddenly turns bright red~ “aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh” ~Jumps up from his desk and everyone is looking at him~ “I have no intention of that! Miss Yuu this is a whole misunderstanding! I would never ever do that! Why would you think that Jade!” ~Trying not to faint~

Hello Anonie 🌺🌷💕

OKAY BUT I ADORE FIRST YEARS PROTECTING YUU/MC. It’s one of my favorite dynamics and it always hits home for me. Love how close they are and wants to defend her. 💕💕🩵🩵

OKAY BUT IM WITH AZUL AND IT TOOK ME A minute to realize what was going on 😂😂

Lmfaooo I knew I wasn’t connecting the dots lolol

Poor Azul lolol He didn’t realize what was going on lolol

This was so cute Anonie 🌷🌷💚💚