#im mostly seething that i still get surprised when they do that

[ithacanradio]

nothing quite like your parents threatening to leave you in poverty if you don't stop doing political work and just annihilate yourself into your studies

[prettyboykatsuki]

please PLEASE write more abt bully bkg!!! what happened next?? what did kiri do omg

tw ;; mild toxicity, bully!bkg, kirishima being a shit, fem!reader 18+, spanking, oral (f!recieving), bkg accidentally worships your pussy instead of punishing you :/, unprotected sex, praise kink 

PT. 1

a/n ;; have i mentioned he makes me absolutely out of my mind yet? have i said that?!??#?$# 

i think we’ve established about the two of them enough by now so here’s how i picture it. 

like i said before - bkg is a campus athlete, popular and well-rounded and all around has that like image to him and so when he essentially confesses to you after fucking you stupid in the library, that’s basically him making you his girlfriend. you don’t know that for a long time but we’ll get there later. 

anwyays.. right after he fucks you nice n full of his cum, he slides your panties and shorts right back on and snickers as he watches you struggle to get to your feet before eventually helping you. he keeps your bra as a punishment and makes you keep his hoodie, almost biting you when you try and take kirishimas to return it to him. he’ll do it himself, don’t test him. 

when you’re all dressed - he makes you pack up and ends up walking you to your dorm room in the middle of the night (which you beg him to not do) but he’ll be fucking damned if anything bad happens to you. it’s his version of affectionate but you don’t know that yet so you’re mostly awkwardly trying to dodge him on the way back BUT he’s still bkg so when he notices that he yanks you. 

he makes you hold his arm and licks your cheek cause he’s such a fucking dick. hits you with a “get used to it, princess” with the most condescending tone. but he’s being so serious. you just think he’s teasing you but he’s not.. he means it. get used to him, basically because now he’s a constant presence in your life. 

he drops you off in front of your dorm and you’re about to wave him off but before you can go he grabs your waist and basically dips you for a kiss. and it’s so good - fuck, you wish you could say you hated it. but bakugou is experienced as much as he’s mean so he kisses you like his life depends on it, his fingers digging into your sides and his tongue in your mouth. you almost forget your in public until he pulls you back up 

he gives you a little breathless grin, patting your cheek with his hand and telling you “get cleaned up, dumbass” which is his way of telling you to get home safe. 

and you do get to your empty dorm. you take a shower and just kinda reflect on the actualy fuck transpired cause you were pretty positive he wanted you in a casket but?!?!?! you fucked him and he kissed you? so ???? 

youre in the middle of your exams and you’re honestly tired since you got fucked within in an inch of your life so you shower and just.. go to sleep. in his hoodie cause it smells good and it’s big and comfy and you’re like... thinking about it really hard but it just makes your headache. 

you conclude after a lot of tossing and turning that he’s probably still just trying to fuck around with you and maybe thinks you’re an easy lay.  you can’t say you aren’t since you were willing and ready for him (the thought of how easily you gave in has you flustered) 

you sleep, eventually. and you wake up the next morning not really expecting much. you don’t have bkgs number or anything so you just.. continue with your day as is. unlucky for you - you have classes with bakugou and kirishima 

but you don’t think it’ll be all that different. still so non-chalant. and you go to class that day dressed normally - with bakugous hoodie in hand. 

you sit in your regular seat that day and this is your first mistake. 

kirishima is in class before bakugou is. and he is.. as always, a little shit. so he pulls up right beside you because even though bkg is pissed at kiri - they are besties so he tells him everything. kirishima wont tease you abt it and u still think kirishima is quite nice and handsome so you’re pleased to greet him. 

ah.. another mistake on your behalf. this action WILL have consequences. 

kirishima gets so cozy with you btw. he loves that you’re so comfy w him - strokes his ego so good. and he chats you up for a better part of the hour before your morning class. 

he makes jokes and smiles and laughs and thinks about how easy it would be snatch you from bakugou and keep you to himself. he’s not good enough of a person to leave you alone. 

aaah kirishima is a sweetheart and he treats you well. so when you feel his hand on your thigh underneath the table - rubbing little circles into your knee, you don’t even notice. and when he gets super close to you to hear you talk - telling you your voice is too soft even tho a class is empty, you let him. 

and when you point out that ppl keep staring and whispering you, he tells you to ignore them and you do. you ignore the whispers and even the click of camera. 

it’s only when you hear bakugou that you get a strange feeling in your gut. he stomps into the classroom - vicious. his schedule is so busy he normally doesn’t get to lounge around before class making sure to keep everything tight 

but he got..  many messages about how you and kirishima were seating today. mostly from kami who likes to cause problems - he decided he should get there a lil early 

well.. lo and behold he does - and he finds you and kirishima looking incredibly cozy with each other. and kirishima being.. kirishima - is the first to see him and he shoots his beloved friend the most smug fuckin smile. 

bkg is pissed, naturally and stomps his way over to the two of you. he’s doing the thing again where he’s icy mad. he doesn’t even bother w kirishima and there’s a whole crowd around the three of you. 

“get your shit,” he demands, clearly seething. you give him a wild look, noticing the now obvious tension before being completely confused.  you’re about to protest w him but he sends you a spine-chillingly glare. 

your whole class watches as he yanks you by the wrist out of the classroom as kirishima sits back and gives u a little wave. ur lost. obviously. and once you leave the classroom ur like “where are we going?” 

the answer is to bakugous very nice car - a custom c3 corvette. he opens the door and stares you, grabbing your bags and taking them to the trunk. but u stand ur ground, cross your arms over your chest like 

“what are we doing out here?” 

bkg doesn’t hesitate in pushing you up against his car, his hands on your waist and his teeth nipping at your neck - sore from old bruises. and you gasp when you feel his fingers dig into your hips, all tongue and teeth. 

“the fuck did i say about you cozyin’ up t’ that shitty haired bastard yesterday,” 

this makes you swallow because bakugous mouth is travelling further and further and his hands are getting more bold. and you shiver, something hot and heavy in your core cause fuck he’s so possesive over you. it makes you dizzy, something sticky and warm in you. 

“i.. i d-didn’t think you were being s..serious yesteryday” 

he growls a little against your throat. 

“guess i’ll have to teach you another lesson. im gonna get in the car and then you are. easy enough, nerd?” 

you can’t do anything but nod and watch him open the car doors. when he gets in you follow and within the blink of an he manuevers you till your over his lap. you let out a loud yelp as his strong hands come down on your ass. still clothed. 

you let out a soft yelp - a noise of surprise at the sudden sensation and you feel bkg bend down to speak in your ear. 

“wanna act like a fuckin’ brat and flirt with your boyfriends friends? fine. i’ll fuck that shitty ass attitude right out of you,” 

the firs thing you think is “boyfriend?!” but your voice gets muffled when you feel bakugou pull down your bottoms along with your panties. his hands are so strong and so big - long thick fingers covered in callouses from playing so many games. you can’t help but squirm under his touch, a growing wetness making your stomach clench. 

he’s so so mean about it yk? a big strong hand smacking against your ass hard enough to leave a handprint. he chuckles when you whine, when your body shivers - bare cunt expose to him and nothing else. a wave of humilation floods through you. 

“‘s not my fault you’re like this y’know? all you gotta do is follow instructions - i know you now how to fucking do that, right? always bein’ so prissy,” ― bakugou tsks, smacking your ass hard before spreading your cheeks out. he admires the way your cunt trembles with mean laugh ― “but you wanna go flirt with shitty hair that much, huh?” 

you’re gonna protest and tell him it’s not even like that.. which makes you question why’re so eager to go with his demands. but the words get lost as the sound of spanks slowly drift and it’s just bakugou admiring your ass. he didn’t really get a good chance too when he was fucking you yesterday but now he’s got eagles on you n your pretty little cunt. 

“never gonna let anyone touch your pretty little pussy but fuckin’ me,” ― and he groans, sliding his fingers through your folds ― “fuck.. fuck” 

you’re not expecting much but within another few seconds you’ve got your cheek pressed to the glass window, ass up and body folded with your cunt directly in bkgs face. you’re not rlly sure why this was happening because you were sure you were getting punished. and maybe the humilation of having your face pressed to glass is enough 

but it doesn’t negate the fact bkg is tongue deep in your cunt. both hands massaging your ass - spreading your lips apart so he can get into fucking deeper. sliding his tongue against your folds and slurping on your clit until you’re jolting with pleasure like you’ve never known before in your life. you’re moaning so loud the whole campus could probably fucking hear but bkg doesn’t care and doesn’t stop 

and your thighs give out, he goes from eat it from the back to getting underneath you and has you sitting on his face. you just keep cumming and bakugou is rock fucking hard - but he doesn’t even bother jerking himself off. he spends all of his time n effort worshipping your sweet cunt  

you cum on his face so many times you’re completely limp by the time he sticks his dick in you. but it feels so good when he does that too - oversenstive walls stretched out his big cock, a hand on your sides as he shifts you into missionary. 

he doesn’t even intend to make you cum again but the position has him so deep in your cervix that you do and he’s so close. and when bkgs close, he’s fucking obscene. 

but it’s not all that vulgar like you’re expecting and that makes you fucking whine. hearing bakugou praise you and your pussy does something terrible to your brain and in your fucked out haze - arms around his shoulders, you’re fucking whimpering. 

and bkgs just in your ear like 

“such a sweet fuckin’ girl for me, taking my dick so damn good, haah fuck. all mind. know how to behave when i fuck you like this don’t you? be a good girl and take it all.. there you go, just like that,” 

when he cums inside of you he stays there for a while and stares at your completely gone expression. it’s unusually soft and you wont see it often but he grabs your face and kisses you hard 

“you’re my girlfriend now you fuckin’ dweeb so start fuckin’ acting like it yeah?” 

you whine and nod, unable to refuse even if u want too 

“yeah..yeah” 

[quirkless-accident]

All might gets rip a new one

Aizawa pointing at Izuku while looking at Danny: its you

Danny: what? *Laughs* no he's not, he's smarter than me

Izuku: WHAT?! No im not!

Aizawa: *deadpan look*

(curse quirk discrimination to make them have low self esteem)

"The next time I see All Might I'm breaking his nose," Danny said as he seethed with anger. "At minimum."

Shouta just raised an eyebrow at his friend. He too, was struggling to leash his rage, and if there wasn't a timid student in front of them, he probably would be foaming at the mouth. But Danny had always been the most emotional out of their whole friend group. He said it had something to do with his ghost powers being tied to his emotions. Shouta thinks that that's mostly bullshit.

But it is kind of funny, Shouta thinks, that this would happen in his life twice. His best friend, born quirkless and in a horrible turn of events, received god-like powers. Midoriya, his student, born quirkless and offered a leg up with a god-like power.

And of course, because he was a prick, he was going to tease Danny over it.

"He's just like you," he says, completely monotone, but Danny's known him long enough to detect the undercurrent of mirth in his tone. He whips his head around and narrows his eyes at Shouta.

"No he's not," Danny says. And he says it with such a conviction that he's surprised Midoriya didn't bust into tears right then and there. "Midoriya is so much better than I am. Kid's a certified genius. He's gonna be number one one of these days, I just know it."

Shouta spared a glance at his student, whose eyes were starting to shine with unshed tears at being showered with compliments. Likely overwhelmed by the sincerity in Danny's voice.

"Wh-what? No, I-I'm not that smart," Midoriya said, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked anywhere but them. His face was bright red, and with his freckles and green hair he had a striking resemblance to a strawberry.

"Kid, I've seen some of your analysis," Danny tells him. "When you left one of your notebooks in my class a couple weeks ago? Honestly, it's impressive stuff. Sho, you've gotta see it if you haven't already. The section he's got on you reads you to absolute filth. It's great."

Shouta has heard of Midoriya's famed analysis, but it's mostly just been snippets of conversation with Midoriya and his friends. He distinctly remembers Midoriya saying, on multiple occasions, that it was just a hobby. A great tool in his tool belt, but he never believed it to be anything serious, so he hadn't pressed. But if Danny is saying it's impressive, it's definitely got some merit to it.

"It's just-it's just a hobby. More creepy than anything," Midoriya ducks his head, mumbling. Shouta and Danny share a concerned look before Midoriya lifts his head up again. "Besides, you-you're so cool! You've got one of the most powerful quirks in existence, and you're the king of a whole other dimension, and you're a heroics teacher! You've got so much to do but you're still able to maintain your ranking and keep a balanced work-life schedule. It's honestly impressive."

"I mean, I don't know, I'm just doing my jobs," Danny shrugs. Even after all these years, he's still uncomfortable with receiving compliments. Shouta narrows his eyes at his friend. "My ranking isn't that high, and to be honest I don't even really care about it. And since the Zone is stabilized there's not much to do there other than the occasional meeting. It's nothing to sneeze at."

Shouta wordlessly grabs a couple of packets that he had put to the side and rolls them up as Danny talks. Midoriya is frowning at his teacher, and opens his mouth to rebuke this, but before he can, Shouta takes the rolled up papers and smacks Danny over the head with them.

"When was the last time you saw your therapist?" Shouta asks before he can whine about being hit.

"Last month," Danny answers, too quickly. Shouta jerks his hand in the air, rolled up paper at the ready, and Danny puts his hand in front of his face to avoid the papercut of a lifetime. "Okay, fine! It's been almost a year."

"Danny," Shouta says, exasperated.

"I know. I just got busy, and there's been those things I told you about and-I'll make an appointment."

"Good," Shouta says, setting the papers back down. "Speaking of therapy, I'll be setting you up an appointment with Hound Dog," Shouta tells Midoriya. His eyes are wide with surprise, like a deer caught in the headlights as he stares at Shouta.

"Therapy? I don't-I'm fine, I think."

"No you're not," Danny says, gently but seriously. The complete opposite of how he was just moments before. He looks at Midoriya with soft, blue eyes and a kind smile. "Take it from somebody who knows what it's like, kid. You're not fine. With the bullying and the emotional manipulation from All Might, plus the trauma you've been going through this year with all the villain attacks, and the trauma from breaking your body over and over...It's a lot. Overwhelming. You haven't given yourself the proper time to process. Trust me on this, therapy is going to do you wonders."

Midoriya stayed silent as he processed Danny's words. His brow furrowed and his lips tucked between his teeth, but not bad enough to hurt. And Shouta isn't sure if it's the sincerity in which his friend spoke, the fact that he's speaking from personal experience, or his natural charm that he denied he had, but Midoriya eventually nods in agreement.

"I can't do Tuesdays cause I run with Iida," he told Shouta. "Or Wednesdays because I help the others with their homework. Or Thursdays because Kirishima and I do our strength training together."

"Mondays is it then," Shouta shrugs. "I'll email Hound Dog tomorrow and let you know when the first appointment will be."

"Thank you, Mr. Aizawa," Midoriya says, nodding his thanks as he does so. "It's...It's nice. To finally be able to talk about this stuff. About the-the bullying. I've never met anyone before this who understood what it was like. Or anyone who was willing to talk about it, for that matter."

"Well, if it ever gets too much, my door is always open," Danny tells him. "Everything said up here stays between us, I promise."

"Thank you," Midoriya says, standing up. He brushes his pants off and grabs his bag and his empty jelly packet. He bows at them before giving them one last goodbye, leaving Shouta and Danny to their devices. Shouta levels him with a stare, and Danny doesn't even bother looking at him as he throws his hands up in the air.

"I know, Sho!"

"A year?" He asks, unimpressed. "Seriously?"

"I told you, I was busy!"

"I don't need to get Nem, do I?"

Danny clutched at his chest dramatically. "Eh tu, Brute?"

Shouta just gives a sharp nod, and Danny dramatically fake dies, dropping his head into Shouta's lap. Shouta just rolls his eyes at his friends theatrics and gives him another jelly pack. Danny immediately lights up like a Christmas tree as he cracks it open.

They stay like that for a while. Shouta dozes off while Danny sucks on his jelly pack. Eventually Nemuri and Hizashi join them, and suddenly it's like they're teenagers again. The Rooftop Squad, with one member forever missing.

"Everything okay up here?" Hizashi asks. He lifts Danny's lets up and sits down before setting his legs in his lap. Nemuri takes Shouta's other side, moving his half graded papers out of the way.

"Yeah," Danny says. "Can't say much cause I wanna respect the kid's privacy, but a lot of things are suddenly making a lot of sense. We're helping him."

"Help?" Nemuri asks. "As in therapy?" At Dann's nod she beams. "That's great! The kid's anxiety is worse than anything I've ever seen before."

"Speaking of therapy," Shouta says. He feels Danny stiffen, and he can't help the chaotic grin that splits his face. "Danny, why don't you tell Nemuri when the last time you went to therapy was."

"You're a goddamn traitor, Shouta," Danny huffs.

Nemuri gets her answer and Danny gets an earful, and Hizashi laughs so hard he nearly pees himself. His friends are touchy feely and loud and obnoxious, and he's still burning with anger, but despite how annoying they are they make it better.

His anger could be handled properly tomorrow.

For now, he was going to watch the clouds pass by with his friends.

[twink-appreciation-posts]

Needs and Wants - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter six of “all bets are off”

um. so. spencer is the best fuck you've ever had. also cumming too many times can hurt. who knew?

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, degradation, daddy kinky, spanking, overstimulation, the WORKS. im mildly apologetic.

When you awoke in the morning you heard the noise of static cracking on the other side of your phone. Reaching for it, you immediately noticed it was hot to the touch. Had it been on all night? Had Spencer never hung up?

“Reid?” You questioned groggily.

“You slept quite late.”

You groaned. “Why are you still here?”

“I… I don’t know.” He seemed confused by his own actions. “I guess I just felt strange hanging up.”

“Well. I should probably get dressed, I’m supposed to meet up with a friend for dinner.” You checked the time. “Oh. Fuck. I really did sleep for too long.” You sprung out of bed, rifling through your closet. “What have you been up to today though?”

“Mostly just reading. I slept in a bit late as well.” You could hear his smile through the phone. You occasionally had contact with Spencer outside of work, but not very often. It was nice. “What time is your dinner?”

“Six! It’s just an old friend from college,” you explained, sighing.

“Not excited?” He questioned, an air of humor to his voice.

“I just don’t know what to wear,” you chuckled.

Spencer went quiet on the other end. “You know that one black shirt you have?” He questioned.

You tilted your head a bit. “I have a lot of black shirts, Spence. You gotta be more specific. Wait- did you use your freaky memory to memorize the contents of my closet?”

“It’s not freaky, but yes. And it wasn’t fully intentional.” A pause. “I’m talking about the one with the lace. It’s… like a tank top.” You scanned through your clothes.

“Is it the velvet one?” You asked, noticing a pattern.

“Yeah. That one.”

“You have a thing for velvet, don’t you?” You giggled, remembering his fingers running over the fabric of the dress you had worn a few days prior.

“Maybe I do.”

You took the shirt off the hanger and examined it. Not a bad choice. “Any suggestions for the bottom half, sir?” You teased.

Spencer inhaled loudly. Hah. For once you were the one to catch him off guard. “Well, my first instinct is one of those skirts you like to wear when the team goes out together, with nothing else on underneath, of course.” You opened your mouth to argue. “But I wouldn’t want to risk giving anyone a peek of what’s mine. A skirt would still look nice, though.” He finished.

You rolled your eyes. “So shorts, then.” You said, grabbing a skirt. Why would you want to give him any more confidence of the control he had over you? The skirt had been a good idea, but you didn’t have to be totally honest, right?

Spencer chuckled. “Have you always been so petty?” He questioned.

“Have you always been such a sexual deviant?” You fired back.

“Touché, y/n. Touché.”

You and Spencer hung up a few minutes later since you had dinner plans to make. They weren’t anything special but you valued being punctual. The dinner went well enough, at least in the beginning. The “old friend” you were meeting up with was just a guy you were friends with in college. Your mistake, you would later learn, was deciding that it would be cute to take some pictures for Instagram. They were totally innocent, of course, but within a few minutes of posting them, you got a text message from the one and only Spencer Reid. You told your friend it was a “work thing”, not a total lie, and examined.

‘You wore the skirt’

You chuckled at your phone. ‘I did.’

‘Did you take my advice and wear nothing underneath?’

‘No, because I’m not crazy.’ You rolled your eyes a bit.

‘I’m sure your friend would’ve liked it.’

Before you could reply another text came through. ‘When are you planning on being finished with that friend, by the way?’

‘I’m not sure. Why? Something you’re looking forward to?’

‘Just trying to figure out if I’m going to get to leave bruises on that pretty little neck of yours tonight or tomorrow.’

Another text. Damn, he was a fast typer.

‘I wonder what your friend would’ve thought of that? Maybe you should schedule another dinner with him after I’ve absolutely ruined you. Let him see what a pathetic slut you are for me.’

You glanced up at your friend and back at your phone. Was Spencer seriously doing this right now? “Sorry,” you mumbled an apology across the table. “Working in the FBI can be annoying.”

‘Why are you doing this?’ You typed out.

‘Doing what? Getting you all needy and wet while you’re on your dinner date? Because I can.’

‘You think I’m enjoying this?’

‘I know you are. I bet your thighs are pressed together, I bet your face is bright red. Have you told your friend what you’re texting about?’

‘You make a lot of assumptions, Spencer.’

‘If you weren’t enjoying this, y/n, you would’ve stopped replying a long time ago. What was it you said last night? You need me? Don’t you need me to fuck you? I could’ve been fucking you right now, you know. Could’ve had your face pressed down into the mattress, or maybe I could’ve bent you right over your kitchen counter..’

You weren’t even sure how long you had been on your phone at this point. You felt bad but… fuck. What exactly were you supposed to do in this situation? “Listen I, um,” you began to stutter out. “You know how the BAU is, always calling me in at odd hours, and I uh,” you began to stutter out excuses as your phone dinged over and over again.

‘I wish I could see how flustered you are right now.’ ‘I wonder if you’re thinking about getting on your knees for me..’ ‘Maybe about how badly you want to know how my cock feels inside of you.’

Your friend got the gist of it. You had to go because of “work”. You paid the tab, exiting the restaurant as casually as you possibly could. You texted as you walked back to your car.

‘If you wanted to ruin my night, you’ve successfully done it. I’ll be at my apartment in 20.’

You turned off your phone, shoving it into your purse and ignoring the incessant chimes of text notifications, finding your way home. A few minutes after you had settled, you heard a knock at your door. You braced yourself, pulling it open. “Spencer.” You smiled. “What a surprise.” He didn’t respond, eyes scanning your figure. “So,” you continued. “Do you wanna tell me why you decided to bombard me with text messages during my lovely evening out?” You raised a brow.

He considered your question, fidgeting with his hands. “When you told me that you were seeing a friend I didn’t realize you meant..”

“What, a guy?” You chuckled. “Was I supposed to inform you of his gender beforehand?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. I just hate imagining all of the things that must have been running through his head about you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that it matters, but it’s not like that. He’s a friend.”

“Oh, I know. It’s not you I’m worried about. I mean, I doubt he could fuck you half as well as I could anyway, but he’s probably been fantasizing about you all night.” A bold statement indeed.

You just laughed. “I think maybe you’re projecting, buddy. You’re the one who blew up my phone and forced me to come home.”

“Forced? Unless my memory is somehow mistaken, I think you’re the one who made that decision.”

“Are you here to argue semantics with me or-“ He cut you off.

“And to your earlier point,” he took a step towards you. “I have no need to project. I’m the one who’s going to get to see you all bruised up and begging for my cock, aren’t I?”There it was. The switch. You had been waiting, waiting for the moment where he got annoyed with you. You opened your mouth, ready to push him even further over the edge. “I’d watch what you say now, little girl. I’m already planning on making sure you regret all the teasing you’ve done the past few days, don’t add insult to injury.”

He really had an issue with teasing, huh? Good. Easier to rile him up. “Is this where you start the whole training thing you were going on about yesterday? You gonna teach me some tricks? And if so, do I at least get some treats if I’m good?” You questioned, going directly against his words of warning. You were watching him closely, wanting to see him seethe. You felt a wave of confusion pass you over as he seemed unfazed, unfortunately maintaining composure. In fact, he stepped forward and closed the gap between your bodies, placing his hands on the hem of your skirt, fingers dancing along it.

“Are you done?” He asked, eyes not leaving yours.

You looked up at him, mind going blank. “Um. No. Fuck you.” You spat out quickly, a last-ditch effort to get more of a reaction out of him.

“Right. I’m not sure what I expected from such a useless little slut. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Spencer mumbled. In one swift motion he was pulling your skirt down and watching it pool at your feet. He was kissing you just a moment later, hands holding your face firmly in place. You would’ve fought for control, but you could already tell it would be a futile effort. His fingers were digging into your skull, tangling in your hair, and his lips were relentless, barely giving either of you room to breathe. You could feel it now, though. The anger you had been working so hard to trigger was coming out in full force. When he eventually pulled away his hands moved from your head to your breasts, swirling around the lace and velvet that covered them. You were panting, watching him, the way his fingers flexed and his eyes followed his own movements. “You’re so pretty, it really is a shame you can’t behave yourself.” He pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you exposed.

He leaned down and began to assault your chest with his tongue, one of his hands shoving your panties to the side and inserting two fingers into your pussy without warning. Your hand flew to your mouth, attempting to stifle the embarrassingly loud moan that he had caused. He didn’t take it slow at all, no, he started off at a brutal pace, as if his mission was to get you to cum as quickly as possible. If that had been his mission, he was succeeding. Before you had a chance to tell him that you were close his lips were at your neck, biting hard enough that you were sure that makeup wouldn’t cover the aftermath. “Cum for me, slut. It’s not hard to tell that you’re close already. So fucking needy for me, all you do is fight me but look how easily you crumble. There’s no hesitation when my fingers are inside of you, huh?” You couldn’t reply even if you had wanted too, you were too busy struggling to keep yourself standing as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer helped, a hand behind you to keep you stable, but you were still shaking. “Good girl. Let’s see, how many more of those do we have left.” You looked at him with confusion. “Well, I’d say we have one from at the club, when you let your hand wander,” his fingers hadn’t let up, still pumping in and out of you. You were trying your best to focus on his words, but it was proving to be a difficult task. “Another from that night, how you touched yourself right where I could hear,” You wanted to argue or say anything really, but your voice was too busy moaning and whimpering as his thumb moved onto your clit. “One from earlier today, especially after that little stunt you pulled on Instagram. And at least one more for the show you just put on before I shut you up.” You were close again. Fuck. It was too close together. Too much stimulation. “What do you think, baby? Does 4 sound good? We can make it 3 right now if you cum for me.” He said ‘if’ like it was an option for you, but it was far from it. You moaned his name, probably loud enough to alert your neighbors, as your second orgasm arrived. “Fuck, oh my god, Spencer. Fuck.” You panted out, legs giving out beneath you. He chuckled, holding you up on his own and finally removing his fingers from inside of you. “Good girl. So good for me.” He praised, allowing you to catch your breath. He picked you up now, taking you to your bed, and gently placing you down. You watched as he began to pull off layers of clothing. You didn’t think you could get any more turned on than you already were but seeing Spencer undress definitely did it. You couldn’t peel your eyes away. He left his boxers on, his dick straining against them.

He moved onto the bed, hovering over you. You prepared yourself for him to kiss you again but instead he spoke, brushing a hair out of your face. “The only words I want to hear coming out of that filthy little mouth of yours from now on are ‘yes, daddy’. Do you understand?”

You gulped. Yes. You understood. But were you actually going to-

His had went to your throat, not applying pressure. A warning.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.” He flipped you over onto your stomach, inhaling sharply. He moved his hands underneath your hips, picking them up so that your ass was displayed.

“Look at you,” he tugged your panties down your thighs, hands skimming over the skin. “Such a perfect little toy for me. So eager to be fucked.”

You squirmed, his hands being so close to where you desperately wanted them.

“Do you want this, baby?” He asked, his hand coming down on your ass. It stung, but only for a moment. Not his full force, you could tell, but it was enough to get you to squeal. “Y-Yes, daddy.” You spoke softly. You felt his hand leave your skin and braced yourself for it to return. It did, of course, but much harder this time. You flinched a bit but Spencer held you in place. “Look at you, such a fast learner.” He cooed, another blow landing on your ass. It hurt. You knew that. But you found yourself prioritizing the pleasure in your mind. “You said that you wanted bruises that lasted for weeks, right?” He asked, hand coming down again. The pain began to become ever-more present, even when his hand wasn’t on your skin you could feel the sting from the cool air. He repeated the process a few times, mumbling words of praise in between. Tears began to spill from your eyes when he was finished. Without his hand to support you, you crumbled back down on the bed, laying on your stomach. Spencer flipped you over gently, watching the tears flow. “Good girl,” he praised, wiping a few of them away. “Such a perfect little slut for daddy. You did so well.” You found yourself relishing in the praise up in a way you hadn’t before. “T-Thank you, daddy.” You breathed out shakily. Spencer smiled at you and began to spread your legs apart gently. “But you’re not done yet, are you baby?”

Your eyes widened at the reminder. It seemed impossible. You weren’t sure your body would even be able to take it. You began to protest, but your words were cut short as he began to trail kisses down your body. He didn’t waste much time on his way to your pussy, tongue grazing your clit. “Oh, fuck..” your back arched instinctively. Encouraged by your reaction, Spencer began to roll his tongue over your clit and then down towards your entrance, moving his face and tongue at a slow pace. You watched, his hair falling onto your thighs and tickling them gently. “F-Fuck, keep going. Please.” You whined. He chuckled against you, speeding up his pace. Both of his hands were planted on your thighs, keeping them spread for easier access. His tongue worked against you harshly. Demanding. He was exploring, making sure to taste every inch of you, moving like he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had. You felt a familiar knot begin to form in your stomach, your hips bucking up towards his face. He moved one of his hands to your stomach, pressing down firmly, pinning your body down to the mattress. “Daddy, fuck, I’m gonna cum. I-I’m so close. You feel so fucking good. Fuck. So good, so good, so-“ And there it was, your 3rd orgasm of the night. Your vision became blurry, you were barely even aware of the fact that Spencer had gotten fully naked until a few moments later when you were coming back down to Earth.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, baby. Only two more. You can do two more, can’t you?” You were weak. You guessed 3 orgasms and some spanking would do that to someone, but your body still ached for him. He approached you, his hand moving to slide your legs apart once again. You whimpered in anticipation. “Beg for me, baby. Tell daddy how badly you need him.” His voice was low, commanding.

“Please Spencer, fuck, I need it. I need to feel you inside of me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about all day, please. I want you to ruin me. You need to ruin me, please.”

Spencer seemed content with your response because after a few moments he was pushing himself inside of you, releasing a string of curses from his mouth as he did. The intrusion was piercing as he split you open, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Fuck. Yes. This was what you needed. “You’re so wet and tight for me baby.” Spencer groaned, slowly pulling out and pushing himself back in. “So fucking good. Such a good little fucktoy.” He began to find a rhythm, his hips snapping into yours aggressively. The noise of his skin meeting yours filled the room, broken only by the moans that were tumbling out of you uncontrollably now. After all of the overstimulation you had already been through, your fourth orgasm built up quickly. “No one else can make you feel like this, isn’t that right baby? Fuck. No one else can make you cum like I can.”

He was right. He was fucking right. Out of every sexual encounter you had ever had... this one stood miles above.

“No one.” You agreed. “No one else. No one but you.” Your words were coming out barely comprehendible. “Fuck. Please no more,” you began to whine, your release catching up to you. Spencer reached up, closing a hand around your neck to silence you. “Shh baby, just cum for me. Cum for me, come on. You’re so close.” Tears began to flow again as your 4th climax ripped through you, every single one of your nerves on fire. You felt like you were being torn apart. Your tears clouded your vision, but it hardly mattered. You were seeing stars. You could hear, somewhere in the distance, it felt like, Spencer praising you, his hand releasing your neck. You gasped for air, panting, and sputtering.

One more. One more. One more.

“Fuck, Spence, I can’t.” You sobbed, “I can’t.” You repeated. “You can and you will.” He replied, voice shaking. He was close too. You could tell. His thrusts were becoming more sporadic, more frantic. “You’ve been so fucking good for me, baby. Keep going.” Fuck. When your vision returned you saw him, sweat dripping down his body, his hair matted down, and you could feel yourself clench around him. Your body ached, but you could still feel it approaching. “F-Fuck. Fuck. I..” you were a mess, whimpering, shaking, all because of Spencer Reid. “I know baby. Cum with me. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Spencer groaned, and you didn’t have the strength left in you to fight. Your body was set aflame as you came, feeling the warmth of his own climax as well. You were panting, grasping at consciousness and you came down. Somewhere in your brain, you processed Spencer getting off of the bed. When your mind came back to you you sat up, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Spencer..” you said softly, watching as he pulled back on his shirt. “That was...”

He nodded, lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” You asked, frowning.

“I’m fine. Just thinking about how you’re gonna hide those hickeys on Monday.”

You touched your hand to your neck. “Oh. Yeah. That might be an issue.”

You got ready to hop off the bed, but a wave of pain rushed over you. Too soon to start moving again.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Spencer’s voice was sweet now, laced with concern. “I’ll go get you some Advil or something. You have some right?” You nodded. “I can run a bath if you want, too.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” You smiled weakly.

As left the room your phone dinged, alerting you of a text message from Garcia.

‘Girls night tomorrow!! You can’t say no, Emily and JJ already said yes.’

Fuck.

taglist <3

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

“Vivienne x Mc, where Mc gets injured and falls unconscious and later Vivienne taking care?“

Pairing with:

Mc x Vivienne - QoT Mc was really close to an explosion during a heist, causing her to permanently loss her hearing. You can include the other members too because I want to see how will they handle future heist when one of their has been injured, how does Vivienne react? Will she let mc continue or not? And how does mc feel? Does she feel she cannot as much as before lost her hearing?

HEY... how do you think Vivienne would deal with a deaf MC? im deaf myself 😳😳 headcanons work if they're easier!

QOT MC gets caught up in the blast from one of Jett’s explosives, and now has severe burns acrros her face and other parts of her body along with slight deafness. Could I get a fic of Vivienne comforting her, and telling her she’s still beautiful? Thanks!

…

Warning: Writer’s first time writing a hard of hearing character.

TW: Panic attacks. Mentions of injury. Mentions of scarring.

Introspection-heavy fic.

…

The explosion was one of Jett’s finest work up to date.

Vivienne could feel it rattle her very bones, even though she was quite a distance away. The building crumbled easily and readily, becoming nothing but a sour-tasting memory. She nodded approvingly, letting out a small sigh in relief. There it went, up in smoke, all the incriminating evidence Benicio had gathered on them. And, as a bonus, most of his fake career.

“Ha! That was amazing!” Jett laughed, his voice bright with happiness, high with adrenaline. The rest of the Poppy soon joined in, albeit in less boisterous chuckles.

Coming down from the building she was in was child’s play. She abandoned Benicio’s unconscious body for the authorities to find, humming to herself as she made her way over to Leon, just barely paying attention to the conversation of the rest of the Poppy.

It doesn’t take long for her to notice that something is wrong. That something is missing.

She balances on top of the balcony she’s on, dread creeping over her body like lead, making her feel sluggish.

“Has anyone heard MC?”

The idle chatter stops. Vivienne can feel the shift in the atmosphere, can practically hear it become tense and chilly.

Amidst the muttered ‘no’ of the rest of the members, Zoe’s voice sounds surprisingly clear, a tinge of panic and worry that makes Vivienne lurch forward, desperate to reach the ground. “I lost her signal. Something must have happened!”

“But Benicio is out cold this time-”

“Nadia backed off, right? She couldn’t have-”

“And there is no way Francesca would-”

“Maybe,” Jett’s voice sounds hesitant, an echo of his usual self. “She got… caught by the explosion.”

Remy scoffs. “There’s no way that could have happened, MC knew the dangers!”

“Keep an eye out for the police, Zoe. We need to look for her,” Nikolai commanded, his voice as cold and hard as steel, immediately cutting through the panicked chatter.

Vivienne lets her teammates handle the distractions to stall the police a bit longer, her mind set only on making sure MC was all right. She hadn’t felt so frightened since everything that happened with Isadora, and she refused to let anything even remotely similar happen again. She couldn’t lose anyone precious to her. She couldn’t. One more person, and her soul would have been shattered beyond repair.

Not to mention, the whole issue with Benicio was her fault in the first place. If MC got hurt… god, if she got hurt…

“Ambulance! Can someone call an ambulance?”

Her head whipped around, eyes wide. There was a man shouting desperately a few meters away, making frantic motions to something behind him. Mouth dry, Vivienne relayed the situation to the rest of the Poppy. Her legs felt like jelly. She wondered if she’d crumble into an unrepairable mess when she got close enough, but no such thing happened. She moved forward as if possessed, dropping to her knees near two bodies. One was a small child, and the other was MC, cradling the child as if she was trying to protect him from the entire world.

They were both unconscious. Vivienne’s eyes trailed MC’s exposed skin, painted an angry red down to its very core, from her left shoulder down to her thigh. Her clothes were ruined, charred beyond recognition, sticking to MC’s body like a second skin. Vivienne’s first instinct is to throw her cape over her, just to cover the burns. Her hands are shaking so bad it proves to be quite the difficult task.

The child MC is holding seems fine, his burns less severe than MC’s, which eases Vivienne’s worry somewhat.

Jett was right. She had been caught up in the explosion.

…

“I had to pull a lot of favors to erase our trail, but at least the police won’t find us for a while. We can lay low while MC recovers.” Zoe informed them, a few nights later, exhaustion sipping from her like water out of a waterfall. Nikolai is in a similar state, sitting near Zoe by the couch, one hand covering his face and the other gripping his knee so tightly his knuckles are almost white.

“And the boy’s father?”

“He’s been trying to locate MC, but I don’t think we should worry about him. As for the boy, he’s much better than MC. His hearing wasn’t as affected, either. She really saved him…”

“Then again, if it hadn’t been for him, MC wouldn’t be like this in the first place.” Vivienne icily mutters, tightening her hold over her glass of wine. Nikolai and Zoe just give her a glance, too tired to pick a fight with her. “If he hadn’t rushed in recklessly-”

“He was scared, Viv.” Remy says, from somewhere in the kitchen. “He wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Vivienne’s scowl deepens. “Yes, but who runs into danger? You’d think the fire alarm would have gotten him to run the other way.”

“Someone who didn’t know there was going to be an explosion, that’s who.”

The seductress growls, a dark expression over her face, bitter frustration raging inside her like a chemical reaction about to explode. It just doesn’t make sense. Everything that boy had done that day was simply moronic, and MC – the angel she was, putting others before herself as she often did – had suffered dearly for it. The burns would leave scarring, no doubt; they had become angry red lines and spots that Vivienne mapped with a careful touch every time she had to apply the ointment the doctor had recommended. She had to watch how MC flinched at the contact, how she bit back a cry of pain, hiding it behind a shuddering smile and glistering brown eyes.

Vivienne couldn’t stop thinking about her expression. About how everything had changed, suddenly and without warning, all because of a boy. She can’t help but think about what Remy says and seethe in anger at the sheer absurdity of the boy’s actions, but she decides to stay quiet. The last thing the team needs is another fight.

Zoe speaks again after a few moments, voice soft.

“How is Jett?”

“He hasn’t left MC’s side,” Vivienne answers, after taking a deep breath. “His guilt is practically eating him alive.”

Zoe gives the couch a mournful, exhausted look, but gets to her feet nonetheless. “I’ll go check on him.”

No one blames Jett.

Ever since she had regained consciousness, MC’s sole focus had been on him. Vivienne didn’t mind. It felt relieving to walk inside her room and find them close, enjoying life, doing Art Club activities or laughing over some funny meme. Or, well, trying to. Jett’s laugh was muted, worried, tinted with sadness and regret; it was a sound that haunted Vivienne wherever she went, something that mirrored her own conflicted feelings. MC’s laugh was restrained and also wistful and a little distant. Sometimes she grimaced in the middle of it, her happiness crumbling in a burning flash of pain that made Vivienne’s heart clench and drop.

But they were trying. They were doing their best.

They would get through this. They all would.

…

Changes are inevitable. MC stands through it all like a stubborn rock holding its ground against a current, taking everything in stride. Vivienne had always found the artist fascinating, a fantastic enigma that Vivienne had foolishly thought she had cracked a long time ago.

MC always surprised her. After everything, Vivienne couldn’t help but feel awed by her. True, the first few weeks were hard, but MC had accepted her condition sooner rather than later, while Vivienne still cautiously danced around it, not sure what to think or feel or do.

MC had lost 65% percent of her hearing due to the explosion. Her left ear was slightly better, only at 50%, but the doctor had warned them she would lose more as the years went by. And while Vivienne had once again thrown herself into a bitter spiral of resentment against the boy, that damned boy, MC had pursed her lips with a determined expression and thrown herself into learning sign language and working around everything.

Everyone had agreed early on that MC couldn’t participate in heists anymore. She’d still be their forger, of course, but she’d stay with Zoe when the heist was underway.

“It’d be too dangerous,” MC had admitted, distractedly playing with the hem of her black jacket. She had this solemn look in her eyes, hollow and heavy with resignation, but it wasn’t defeated. It had this quiet intensity to it, like a volcano about to erupt; no one had dared to say anything as she explained. “I can’t even tell where sounds come from anymore, so I wouldn’t react properly to a threat.”

Vivienne couldn’t really wrap her mind around it. MC had described sounds as muted, fuzzy, distant, as if there was a giant wall of glass between her and the world, and on top of it she was underwater. Sounds simply became a cacophony in the background, nothing for MC to really pick apart. It was disorienting, at first, mostly because Vivienne hadn’t really fully processed everything yet.

Sometimes she would turn towards MC with her usual flair and dramas, all but spinning on the chair of her vanity like the typical movie villain, only to find MC engrossed on her work and not aware at all of the dramatic sigh Vivienne had delivered not two seconds ago. That was, perhaps, the biggest change. It didn’t take long for Vivienne to get used to it, no, but there had been something special in calling MC’s name from across the room and watching her reaction unfurl, be it an amused smirk or a heated stare.

MC carried on, not considering her hearing loss a disability at all. It made things different, but not impossible, something Vivienne had irrationally feared in the beginning. She loved MC and everything that entailed, be it scarring or hearing loss or grumpiness or that annoyingly stubborn personality of hers. There was no in-between, no extremes. There weren’t moments where Vivienne had loved her more or less. One day she had woken up to realize she had fallen hopelessly in love and she had never quite managed to get back up after that.

So these changes? Vivienne would accept them. Welcome them. No matter what.

…

The hearing aids helped. A bit.

MC had put them on, frowned for a second, and then beamed at Vivienne saying: “Oh, I can tell your voice apart from all the sounds now!” And that was it. No magically being able to hear everything again, no magically being able to pick apart the words. There was just a vague tone piercing a muted world, an anchor making lip-reading easier, but nothing else. Zoe had looked. Oh, how had she looked, but that was it. Everyone had accepted that. MC was just happy to her their voices again, however fuzzy they were.

Now, Vivienne could actually come sashaying into the room and call out to MC, and MC would look up and search for her – she still had a hard time telling where the sounds came from – and then roll her eyes with a fond smile at her girlfriend’s antics.

Something Vivienne had discovered about hard of hearing people: they listened. No, really. Somebody else would be distracted by something that happened around them, or would look at their phone or watch or hands or anything else before rejoining the conversation. Small things, really. MC didn’t do those anymore. Her attention was solely focused on whoever was speaking, watching their lips, interpreting their words. Or watching the signs, the body language, everything she could do to figure out what was going on and answer accordingly.

It was only at night that MC confided how difficult and exhausting and frustrating lip-reading was. The Poppy made an effort to sign, they had all gotten quite good at SSE, but sometimes they would go out and encounter somebody that didn’t know how to sign or somebody that wasn’t aware of what had happened to MC. It was all sort of situations, but MC took in stride.

“Baby?” MC’s drowsy voice cut through Vivienne’s thoughts. The pronunciation was a bit off, but charmingly so. MC had been horrified when Zoe commented on it, trying to correct it as soon as possible, but privately Vivienne didn’t really see why she worried so much over it. Her voice was beautiful no matter what. Or maybe Vivienne was just far too whipped. Hm.

She smiled against MC’s skin, feeling the heat of it call out to her like a siren’s song. She shifted a bit, so she could rest her head over MC’s chest, snuggling under the covers. It was a cold night, after all.

“Yes?” She mumbled, internally screaming in joy over the pet name. The vibration of her voice was all MC needed to know she was awake.

“I don’t think I’m up for seeing Jace tomorrow. Think we could reschedule?”

Vivienne hummed, toying with the thought. “I think so.” She finally drew the words on MC’s skin. Her fingers slid over the charred, dry zone that had been burned and she frowned a little, wondering if she should apply more ointment in the morning.

“Great.” MC said, softly. “And… we could… maybe we could watch a movie? There’s a new one that just began airing – I’ll ask Zoe for a subtitled version tomorrow.”

“Lovely.” Vivienne drew back.

“I love you.”

The little heart that was the seductress’ reply tingled in MC’s skin like invisible ink, pure and happy and warm like the first few rays of the sun, something that would linger for many days to come.

…

In the morning, as she had been doing this past month, the first thing she did when she woke up was straddle MC under her.

MC blinked owlishly, staring at her with a soft smile. She let Vivienne move over her, sighing contently at the soft touches from her lover. Vivienne made sure to stay in sight, so MC could see her lips.

With all that done, Vivienne began her worship.

Her hand cupped MC’s cheek, tracing the cheekbone down to the soft angle of her jaw, adoring. Long fingers then glided over her throat, down, down so she could move over her collarbones, one hand to the right, one to the left.

One hand slid over smooth, soft silk, while the other traveled against rough and dry edges carefully. MC’s eyes shifted at that, always hesitant over the marred skin, and Vivienne leaned down to place a kiss just above where the burns had been, as reverently as an astronaut would kiss the ground after months away from the Earth. She hovered there for a few seconds while her hand moved from MC’s shoulder to her side, finally coming to rest over her hip.

“You are beautiful.” She mouthed, leaning back. MC’s eyes flickered to her lips, catching the words, her smile stretching just a little bit more.

Vivienne continued, leaving a trail of kisses over that side, as she often did.

“These tell a story,” she said, and MC listened, brows knitted in concentration. “Of a brave woman that was too caring, and of a silly boy.”

MC starts to shake her head, aware of Vivienne’s resentment, but Vivienne is quick to place a finger over her lips to shush her.

“A silly boy,” she repeated, and for once her voice carried no venom. “That would have had a much difficult condition had that brave woman not intervened. These scars tell a story… and its outcome, filled with obstacles and changes and that one stubborn woman in the center of it all. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more determined in my entire life. But here you are, MC, here you are…”

She shudders with delight, her smile widening even more. One of her hand comes up to rest over Vivienne’s heart, to feel the vibrations of her voice.

“A warrior, an angel. You are the sun my thoughts spin around, always, forever. You came into my life and gave me a reason to become the woman I am today. You are always so optimistic, so breathtakingly beautiful, with you I-” Vivienne cut herself off, remembering to breathe, to pace herself. MC gave her a grateful nod, her expression soft with affection. “With you I feel like I might soar. You’ve taught me so much. You’ve taught me how to be accepting. To accept mistakes. To not run from them. And now, you’ve taught me the importance of not giving up. I admire you, you know?”

Vivienne looked at the scars again.

“The story these tell… It’s awe-inspiring. I’ll look at them every morning and remember how strong you are. Beautiful isn’t perfect skin and perfect hearing. It isn’t daring heists and life on the edge. Beautiful is you, are you are now.”

The kiss they share is gentle, loving, pure.

[depressedtransguy]

im tired so I can’t think of a threat but if you read this and you’re not @angelwiththeblue-box ue-box then I’ll cut off your uvula and make you drown in your own blood

Anthony was just stepping out of the Sanctum when he got the call on his glasses. They buzzed gently against his face as his sister's name flashed right in front of his eyes, reminding him that his sister was the only person connected to his spectacles. And she only called him for one thing. "I will thank every god in the multiverse if you tell me right now that you're not in prison again," Anthony whispered with a seething rage as he answered the call, his fingers flexing on a stress ball.

Her overly long silence wasn't comforting. I'm in prison again.

Not knowing whether to scream or break things, Anthony just inhaled sharply as his stress ball popped. "Frigga, I'm about to go on a date! With Atreo! Remember, the Greek god of a man that I'm somehow dating?"

I remember.

"Is there at least not anyone there who's going to immediately kill you? Can you wait a night? Please?"

There was a huff from the other end. You're going to leave your sister in prison for a night to have sex with a mortal?

"Well he doesn't make me break him out of space prison!!" Frigga was right of course. He had to help her. And normally he didn't mind it, it was cracking codes and breaking laws, two of his favorite things, but Atreo was... hot. And Anthony was gay. It was unfair. But like the message of every single Fast and the Furious movie, family came first. "Fine. I'll help. But you owe me big time."

Okay okay, I owe you I owe you, just help me get out of here.

So with the gay side of his mind screaming at him to go hook up with a man carved out of stone, he teleported into his lab and plopped down into his swivel chair with a huff, then letting it roll him over to his main computer. "What prison are you at?" He started up the monitor and tossed his destroyed stress ball over his shoulder.

The Xandarian one.

Anthony groaned. "Again? Stop going to Xandar! They know you're a war criminal!"

It was just a little treason, don't be such a bitch.

"It's not the crimes, it's the fact that you keep going to the places where you know you'll be arrested. I'm a felon on at least 12 planets, but at least I'm smart enough to avoid them," Anthony pointed out, tapping the correct coordinates into the computer before dragging out the 3D model of the building and spinning it around in his hands. "But I guess it's better than one we've never broken out of before. Even though you'll probably be locked up twice as much and have three times as many guards making sure you don't get out. Fun. Really really fun." Anthony double tapped the side of his glasses to increase the volume on her end. "Where are you right now?"

I'm in line for my mugshot. My wrists are locked together with power dampers and there's a guard ready to taser me if I take a wrong step, but besides that I'm pretty free. So I was able to tap the piece with my shoulder and they just think I'm crazy talking to myself. Same place as last time.

The young scientist increased the size of the hologram prison until he spotted the room she was talking about and he then pulled it out before pushing it back into the computer. The camera footage from that room immediately popped up. Due to Frigga being arrested so frequently, he had already programmed the entire hologram with the codes needed to access both their camera and security system. It just made the whole process a lot simpler. "Alright I'm in." Anthony rolled forward in the chair and squinted at the monitor, increasing the picture with two outstretched fingers until he could zoom in on where his sister stood waiting for her mugshot to be taken next. "Oh my god, you put up another fight didn't you?"

...Maybe.

With a groan Anthony leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You may be powerful Frigga, but you, with your wrists and neck locked, and your powers suppressed, and four Xandarian guards surrounding you, you absolutely will not win in any situation." And it was obvious she didn't win that time either. A black ring was around her eye with blood dripping down her philtrum and her chin, as well as what appeared to be another bruise on her left cheekbone.

Says the guy with more scars to mark his battles than me.

She was right. She was. But that didn't mean he liked it. "This isn't about my problems right now, this is about yours," Anthony pointed out. "Focus on listening to directions. I don't want you to get hit again." Even though she was messing up his date, that's not how he wanted to get revenge on her. He already had a better plan that was calming his anger just from knowing they'd be even in the end.

You're not breaking me out now?

"Surrounded by guards and other unstable patients and chained up to your ass? I'm not stupid. Just trust me, I know what I'm doing."

A sigh came from her end. Fine. But I need to get a new prison breakout guy. My current one's too slow.

Anthony laughed back. If he was suffering emotionally, then she could too. It was only fair. "I'm the best in the business honey, don't underestimate me. And I don't make you pay me. Calculating the exact price of a hacker-if we ignore the fact that they would have to be available for you at any time since you get arrested way more than the average person-with the amount of times I've helped you out, including now, that adds up to about... $14,191. And we're poor."

Fuck you.

"Fuck you too, I'm out of fourteen hundred dollars and a date. Now just pretend to be obedient for the next 20 minutes and I'll get you out."

I still hate you.

"I hate you too."

The siblings fell into silence as Frigga's arm was grabbed and she was then pushed onto the platform, right in front of the electronic height measurer that all mugshots had for some reason. In her flat shoes she rose up to the marking of 6' 1". Which did annoy Anthony a bit, as he sort of received the short end of the stick when it came to tall genetics, but he swallowed his jealousy and listened to what the officers had to say while she was scanned and her pictures were taken. ACAB might be true, but they did have some pretty interesting banter.

She's back again? one guard, who Anthony nicknamed 'Terry' on the spot, commented with a hint of sarcasm.

Yep, the other guard, nicknamed 'Jake', responded with a small *pop* on the 'p'. The bounty's big on her, I'm surprised she wasn't handed over sooner.

Well she's escaped out of here thrice, so she's obviously got some tricks up her sleeves.

Jake let out a low whistle. Three times? That's gotta be a record.

It is. She just... slips through our fingers every single time. I don't know how she does it. Maybe with an accomplice or something, something that our camera's can't detect, maybe a brother or a parent or a friend, but there's no way they'll get through this a fourth time.

The two space cops laughed and assumedly bumped their fists together based on the small popping noise that came from the other end. Anthony only smirked and then tuned out their annoying voices when it moved to annoying prison stuff to then jot down the information typed out on the wall where she stood, describing her ethnicity, criminal background (there was a lot of that), special powers, descriptive marks, etc etc. He didn't look up when she was told to turn to her side.

You're paying attention, right? I can hear you writing something, Frigga suddenly interrupted.

"I have to record all the information they have on you to figure out if it can possibly be exploited. I'm organized Frigga, and anything can be important."

Frigga just groaned. Just get me out.

"Patience... is a virtue."

Patience can kiss my ass.

"You can kiss your ass goodbye if you don't shut up and follow the guards; I can see them looking at you." Although it was mostly to shut her up, he technically was telling the truth, as one of the guards broke out from the group to grab Frigga's bicep and pull her away from the mugshot space. Normal prisoners moved on their own with guards nearby, but three time escapists were snatched and moved on their own. Which Frigga wasn't used to, nor did she like. If Anthony wasn't there to bargain with her for her peace she definitely would have put up another fight and made practically everything ten times harder for herself. "I'll lead your escape plan in the direction of killing that guard," he offered as a reward if she stayed calm. A pretty useful tactic that both of them used on each other whenever something that they weren't good at was involved and needed to be done.

And it worked as usual. Frigga just huffed and pushed her shoulders back in order to hold her head high as she was walked toward where she would be temporarily staying, knowing she'd get to slaughter the person manhandling her in the end. Anthony followed them through the different rooms along the different security cameras.

More and more shackles were added as they went. A muzzle slapped on that thankfully still let her speak, new and bigger handcuffs, legs chained together to be dragged along the floor, and a full on torso restraint, all with Frigga looking more and more annoyed. It was actually pretty funny. Not that Anthony would say that aloud since he knew she'd just get (rightfully) mad. Although he had clicked record a minute prior and planned to laugh his ass off in front of her later. Once no one's life (but his) was in danger.

Eventually there were enough chains on her and she had reached her single containment facility, so while one guard lifted her up from the ground, the other opened the door for her to be thrown inside like a sack of potatoes before they then slammed it shut. At that Anthony had to laugh audibly at.

Oh fuck off.

"You didn't- they just- they just fucking threw you-" Anthony struggled out, wheezing through the words due to how hard he was laughing. It was so fucking funny. "You should have seen yourselffff."

Get me out of prison quicker so I can kill you quicker.

Anthony had to take another minute or two to stop laughing before he could actually get to work. "Alright, could you describe your surroundings? I have no quick way of getting in there."

Fine. I'm in a small, most likely vibranium room, about four feet by ten feet by... 12 feet. There are some sort of magnets in the back that connect to the chains' padlocks, so as soon as I was tossed in they snapped together, so now I'm hung up kinda like Jesus Christ on the cross. The room besides the door is bare.

"Any cracks above or below the door?"

Not a thing. They really don't want me to get out of here.

"But you will. Could you describe your chains to me? I didn't get a good look when I was watching you before."

The links are about three inches across, the metal an inch thick, and the cuffs are as heavy as Jeff, being almost four inches up and one and a half inches thick. They cover most of my forearms. The color is... a dark gray with a little hint of navy blue. Uh, I should paint this scene. I think I could really piss some Christians off with it because no joke, I'm exactly positioned like Jesus was in the El Greco pai-

Silence followed for a few seconds. Anthony was planning on telling her to focus once her sentence was done and comment on her mention of Jeff, their childhood 15 pound cat, but the end of it never came. So he just zoomed in on the door and increased the volume on her side once more. "Frigga? Come in Frigga."

There wasn't even silence on the other end. Static started to come through. "What the-" Anthony's work didn't produce static. His inventions and creations didn't create static. Ever. "Frigga tell me this is a joke, what's going on?" There had been no movement at the door, and as he was forced to take Frigga's word about the room's layout, there was no other entrance to it. "Frigga. Come on."

The only reason he was snapped out of the repeated cycle of him adjusting his glasses and repeating his sister's name was because his other senses perked up and he caught the feeling of a presence behind him. A certainly unfamiliar one. But before he could even turn or react, he was snatched from behind and his whole world went black.

~~

Frigga was being manhandled again when she woke up. "Ugh, did you dickheads knock me out again?" she hissed as she twisted in her shackles, surprised to be out of her personal prison with no warning, but still angered. "I was thinking about painting, asshole." She was struck in the face (as expected) for her rudeness. At least Anthony didn't scold her for it. Could you do your best to not piss everyone off while you're vulnerable? That would be great, is what he always said. As your doctor I have to tell you that it's a stupid ass thing to do. But he said nothing.

In fact there was no sound at all from Anthony. Not even breathing. Just static...

Wait. "What's your name?" the guard holding her up by her biceps demanded before she could properly think about where her brother was. "Who are you?"

"Who am I? You guys have arrested me four times! In fact I should be asking you that, are you a new hire or something? I didn't see you the last time I was here."

The guard brought his arm back to hit her again, but that time the other one stopped him. "Her sleeve is torn. She's telling the truth; she has been arrested multiple times."

"Then explain why she isn't in the system!"

"I can't. But she's not lying, so you shouldn't hit her. Let's just bring her to the mugshot area, get a photo, and then put her in the hardcore containment facility so we can figure this stuff out on our own," he bargained with the more unstable guard.

The guard did agree after a bit more negotiating, and soon enough Frigga was brought back to the mugshot area and positioned on it. It didn't look like the same one she was in just minutes earlier. Well, it looked... similar? Yet... outdated. Like the old system they used to use. She didn't say anything aloud, as she knew that would just get her hit again, but she tried to imprint the oddities in her mind as best she could. Dammit why did Anthony get Dad's photographic memory?! she mentally hissed as details vanished from her brain almost seconds after. Why do I have to be forgetful?

"Turn."

"Yeah yeah, I know I know," Frigga grumbled, reluctantly doing as told and then eyeing the information they were presenting about her on the screen. Some of it was from the identifying marks and tears on her clothing, like her escapist status and such, but most of it had come from the special type of scanner that The Kyln owned that could identify everything from hidden objects on the body down to a being's DNA. Hers was correctly listed as 50% Terran, 50% Jotunn. Her ear piece wasn't recognized just like Anthony had designed. But, in an odd turn of events, none of her powers were listed as they usually were. Not one.

After the scan was done, leaving both the guards and the young demi-god with more questions than answers, Frigga was grabbed by the bicep and led over to a containment facility. Not her usual single one, but a seemingly group one with approximately 13 more people inside. Only a few had handcuffs. And no chains were added to her, leaving her completely open spare her wrists, which was a ridiculous oversight on their part. (There had been a lot of weird oversights on their part by then.) At least it would be an easy break out. "Anthony, are you there?"

No answer.

Frigga bent her arms and reached over to press into the ear piece in case it accidentally got turned off when she was passed out. She said her brother's name again, ignoring the looks she got from other hardened criminals inside. "If you're fucking with me you are so dead when I get home."

"Hey crazy, stop talking to yourself, some of us are trying to nap here."

The familiar voice made Frigga stop in her action and turn toward it. "Rocket?" The other guardians also laying down looked up at the call of his name. "What- what are you all doing here? You're supposed to be in New Asgard."

They all looked extremely confused. "What? Look, lady, I don't know who the hell you are or what New Asgard is," Rocket continued, reluctantly pushing up to his paws and rubbing out the flat spot in his fur, "so I guess I'd prefer for you to talk to 'Anthony' because what you're doing now is creeping me out even more."

"Okay- no. I'm not the crazy one here. Everyone and everything has been weird, and now you guys too? Come on, this isn't fair."

"Hey, isn't New Asgard that place where Thor was living before he joined us?" Quill questioned as he too sat up.

Rocket only groaned. "Great, let's get more people in on this conversation. Peter, please don't enable her, she's obviously lost her head."

"What do you mean she lost her head, her head's right there on her shoulders!" Drax chimed in, getting up and gently shaking her back and forth with a grip on her shoulder to show that her head was really on there.

Frigga was used to Drax's typical maneuvering and his deafness to sarcasm, so him moving her back and forth was the least of her worries at that point. It was the others. "Mantis, come on, you remember me, right?" Frigga said in exasperation, being the only one in the room who was completely lost making her a bit worked up. Especially since she didn't have Anthony in her ear. He was always with her when she was arrested; in one way or another.

Mantis seemed to sense this and walked over to press her open palm to her revealed bicep. "You feel... desperate."

"Well I am desperate because I'm the only sane one here but you're all looking at me as if I'm the crazy one. Rocket, Quill, Drax, Mantis... Groot! Come on, you all know me," she went on, just waiting and practically praying that one of them would grin and tell her it was just a stupid joke. But that didn't happen. In fact the only change in their expressions was Groot looking up and murmuring something about it being too loud for him to play his game. "Oh come on!" With a huff she plopped down on the floor and rested her head against the wall's cool steel, bending her elbows again to cover her eyes with her hands and hoping that it would all just disappear. But, as one might guess, that didn't happen, and in fact she felt someone move over and sit next to her. Most likely out of pity.

It was Quill, of course. "What's your name?"

Maybe they were hit with some memory loss thing. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation. So Frigga opened her eyes and turned her head toward him. "Frigga."

His eyes widened a bit and Frigga got a little too excited. "Do you finally recognize me?"

"No- sorry, but that's just this- guy that I know's mother's name. Frigga," he gently explained with a slight blush and a nervous scratch at the back of his head.

The movements were a little confusing at first, but then Frigga realized that they were coming from the mention of Thor, and didn't have to do with her at all. But why would he act like that? Thor and he had been dating for decades. Since before she and her brother were born. She and baby Anthony were at their wedding. He was in a little blue tux and she in a little green dre- wait a fucking second. "Quill... What year is it?"

"What do you mean? It's 2024. What else would it be?"

Frigga gasped and jumped to her feet. It all clicked at once. Why the guards didn't know her. Why all the technology and architecture seemed older and outdated. Why her own uncle and the guardians didn't recognize her. She hadn't even been born yet. But the only question still there was... how? And also, why? But in order to have a prayer at answering those questions, she had to get back to Earth where she knew the Avengers as well as her parents would be. Although they technically weren't her parents yet. God are they even dating yet? It didn't matter. She just needed to get there and hope that Anthony was there too. The only problem (besides every other problem that she had) was that she had never escaped a prison without him before. They could only do it with each other. It seemed like a major roadblock... until she glanced over at the raccoon.

"Hey, Rocket, could you remind me again of how many prison's you've broken out of?"

Rocket, who had clearly been trying to ignore them but was just accepting his fate as his name was called once more, turned toward them with crossed arms. "About 24. What's it to ya?"

A small smile spread over Frigga's face. "And how many times out of here?"

"Just the one."

"Great. If you bring me to Earth, I'll help you get out."

He scoffed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "And why would I need your help out of here?"

"Because I've escaped here three times myself. And, you don't have Gamora, nor is Groot an adult as he was last time. Earth isn't even that far from here, just a few jumps, so why not pad your escape with me- a demi-god by the way -and just take me there in return?" she bargained, getting more and more calm and excited as her thoughts clicked together. Sure, everything was still weird, but at least she was able to get a grip on her situation.

Based on his extremely annoyed expression, Rocket knew that she was right and that they could use the help, yet was extremely reluctant to admit it. "Demi-god? We already got a half celestial, I don't think we need any more half- things," he tried to point out.

But Quill was on her side. "No, no, I think we should hear her out. Especially since I don't even have the powers of a half celestial anymore. If she's escaped from here three times then she could really be a big help for us. They've changed a lot of things since we were last here, and we're in a new area. And, although I'm not sure how she knows about Gamora and Groot, she's right about that too."

Rocket snarled as Frigga smirked and raised her arms up at him in a shrug. "The man's got a point."

"That man is also an idiot. But fine. You can join us, and we'll bring you to Earth."

Frigga grinned wider as Rocket moved closer and removed what seemed to be some sort of bobby pin from the back of his head, making her cuffs fall off in under a minute. She rubbed her sore wrists and thanked him. "We should probably pick up Thor from Earth anywhere, I'm pretty sure he's still there with the Avengers," Quill pointed out as he joined them and glanced at the red rings on her skin. "Why were those so tight?"

"Well, due to my powers they need to restrict me so I don't just slaughter them all and escape like that, and they usually do that with overly tight power dampers," she explained to him as she continued to try to get the blood flowing normally back into her hands. "You get used to it. Especially since they get steadily tighter and tighter due to the guards' fear in me increasing every time. I killed a bunch last time so the chains applied doubled. Until I woke up in 2024 of course, but I'm ignoring that for now."

Quill very obviously had no idea what she was talking about, but as he wasn't one to judge with making sense he just smiled at her. "Good, you can do it again."

"After this stunt? Fuck yeah I'm going it again."

<finish prison scene and go to anthony>

Stephen had no idea why he was being called to Avengers Tower. Except for the occasional meeting that he was forced to attend that he usually managed to escape early from, he had never been asked to go to their living and working quarters. So he couldn't imagine what the problem was. "What's the situation and how can I get out of it quicker?" was the first thing that fell out of his mouth once he stepped out of the portal. He was met with the stares of all six Avengers and Loki. Great. "What the hell happened?"

"We found a kid."

Definitely not what Stephen expected Tony to say. "What?!"

"Okay that was a shitty explanation. Just look." The group parted to reveal a body rested on their couch with handcuffs around his unconscious wrists. The only indicator that he was alive was the small rise and fall of his chest. He looked young, easily 18, with dark brown hair that slightly fell over his forehead, and glasses over eyes of a hidden color. Stephen noticed most of all was that he had two thick scars on the dorsal side of his hands; one for each. "We found him in our meeting room. There's no identifying items on him, and his fingerprints aren't in the database, so we have basically no idea who he is."

"So what can I do?" Stephen questioned.

"Ask Loki. He's the one who requested you."

Only then did Stephen look up to lock eyes with his fellow sorcerer. One that he had never really gotten along with. "You?"

"To be fair I didn't request you, I just said it would be useful to have another magic user here. John Doe here has magic practically radiating off of him," Loki tried to explain without making it seem like he wanted Stephen there, hints of forced annoyance and real nervousness leaking through. The 'John Doe' reference was imprinted in the sorcerer supreme's mind without a clear reason. Since when does he know Midgardian terms? "Can't you sense it?"

Stephen could. There was a large amount of power coming from him. "It's a multitude of different types. I can't even distinguish them; they're all so mixed up."

Loki agreed. "I was planning on picking through his memories, but due to the mixture of magic and power, I thought it'd be more safe if I waited for you to hold him down if anything goes wrong." An uncomfortable amount of silence passed between the two, unknown whether to continue genuinely or be sarcastic and snarky. "Not that I think you're capable of it, but you're sort of better than nothing."

There it was. The Avengers looked around at each other as they were described as 'nothing', the sorcerers forgetting about anything that wasn't the other, as usual. "You're very kind, Loki," Stephen drawled out with a sarcastic smile.

"I am, aren't I?" With that he jumped over the couch and kneeled down next to the body, gingerly going to place his fingers on his forehead.

But just as they brushed his skin the entire tower shook lightly and made everyone look up. FRIDAY spoke up to fill them in. The Guardians have arrived, sir. And they have a guest on board.

"Well that was quick," Thor murmured under his breath. "They're getting better at escaping."

"Were they in prison again?" Bruce questioned.

Thor nodded back. "I'll go greet them, you guys stay here and figure out his identity." With a small wave the god of thunder then left the room, and all other attendants watched until he left the room and then they all turned back toward the boy on the couch. Except- oh. Fuck.

"Where did he go?" Loki whispered.

"I'm right here."

The entire group swiveled to see the boy formerly laying on the couch sitting in a chair behind them all, his legs and arms crossed tightly, handcuffs done, and a stern expression on his face. "And I'd like to know what the hell is going on."

"You're the one who somehow got into our tower, why don't you explain it to us?" Clint shot back.

The boy only looked at him with a face void of all amusement. And with eyes that were a colored a blood red.

[romanovanoff]

bio says black widow stories but i do like to dabble with other characters too. ill have a full list on another post.

YOU & I

A Bellatrix & Tom Riddle story

part one

characters:

bellatrix black

tom riddle

narcissa black

andromeda black

druella black

rodolphus lestrange

rabastan lestrange

(tba)

relationships:

bella/tom

narcissa/lucius

andromeda/ted

(tba)

summary: tom is the new kid in school and is already popular amongst his peers. his goal is to have bellatrix black by his side when he conquers the wizarding world, and his only problem? bella is already in an arranged marriage and also wants nothing to do with him.

disclaimer: i have never read the books, and ive seen all the movies only like twice. im not a crazy fanatic potterhead, i just have an unhealthy obsession for bellatrix/helena bonham carter 😌. so apologies in advance if i make any mistakes, regarding whats canon in the harry potter universe and so on. the little things, the big things, my bad. i hope the fact that its mostly au makes up for what it lacks in accuracy.

word count: 3497

——————————

"I overheard earlier today that Hogwarts received a new student," Druella spoke as she took a sip of tea, delicately patting a napkin across her lips before gazing over at her three daughters. Bellatrix, who didn't seem interested at all in the conversation, Andromeda, who was busy scribbling something in her diary, and little Narcissa who was following along to her mother's words.

"Yes, it's true," The blonde girl, thirteen years old, responded. "I thought it strange at first but apparently he and his family were living somewhere in Europe. Tom Riddle, I think his name is. He'd been taught at home and his father had gotten a job at the ministry so they transferred him to Hogwarts."

Ever the gossip, it didn't surprise Bellatrix in the slightest that Cissy knew so much about the new student. She rolled her eyes, wondering why the hell they were even discussing this in the first place. It was just a new student, who cares? She voiced this several times out loud but had received the usual disapproving glances from the two blondes. It creeped the raven-haired witch sometimes at how much Cissy resembled their mother.

Letting out a sigh Bella swirled her spoon around in her teacup, not finding the appetite to drink nor eat the sweets that accompanied her tea. The three of them were currently in Rosa Lee's teashop, a place they often went to every other week, with permission to leave the school of course- though she didn’t ask for it most times. Usually Bellatrix would devour the treats but today she was feeling too anxious to do anything but. At seventeen years old she had stretched out her days of freedom and was now forced into a marriage that should have taken place two years ago.

The thought of marriage wasn't all that bad, if she was being honest. Sometimes when her thoughts and actions weren't clouded with hate and rage she'd daydream a not so near future of a perfect wedding. A wedding where she would be marrying someone she truly loved and could cherish, to honor their vows to the fullest extent. So the wedding itself wasn't the problem, it was who she was supposed to be wed to that was. Her long time childhood friend, Rodolphus Lestrange. And one of the very few in the sacred 28 that wasn't related to the Blacks by blood. At least that she was aware of… The thought still made her cringe, even after checking every family tapestry available and an exhausting amount of research.

Everyone wanted her to be happy about the fact she'd get to marry someone she's known for years, something most pure-bloods didn't have the honor of having, but it was the fact she knew him so well that she hated. He was like a brother to her, albeit at times an annoying and even sexist brother. He wasn't husband material and she was most certainly not wife material for him. And add to the fact that they'd be pressured to have children immediately after becoming man and wife, the thought of having sex with him made her want to gag. You'd think they'd notice that such a practice was incredibly outdated. She hated to wonder if the marriage had taken place two years ago, would they really pressure two 15 year olds to consumate? Fuck this life.

She felt like the world and everyone in it was against her. All her complaints had been shot down, leaving her inwardly seething with rage before being left totally subdued. Oh, how she hated being so… powerless, left without a voice, without a right to do what she wanted and to do so as she pleased, the ever present shadow looming over her shoulder that was the society and family she was born into.

Letting out a sigh she looked over at Andromeda who was still scribbling in that damn book. Probably instant messaging her friends, something Bellatrix didn't have the luxury of having. At least genuine ones anyway. The ones she had in school were merely vultures following around, waiting for the opportunity to eat away at the scraps she bared. They didn't hesitate to use her to their advantage, trying to play her like a fool. Idiots, they should've known she was the brightest witch of her age for a reason. And no one took advantage of Bellatrix Black.

Despite still being superior she continued feeling a bitter pang in her heart, knowing no one truly cared for her there. Well, maybe except for her sisters, Rodolphus and his brother that is.

Catching her eyes on what she was doing Andromeda quickly closed her book and narrowed her eyes at her eldest sister. But then a familiar smirk curled the girls lips and Bellatrix knew what was going to happen before her sister could even utter a word. She knew that smirk anywhere. Bella herself wore that smirk on several occasions, actually even taught it to her dear sister! If only mother knew how truly naughty Andy was, maybe then the heat wouldn't fall upon Bella so heavily when she did something that displeased her.

"Mother," Andromeda chimed in, interrupting Cissy's conversation with the older woman. "Bellatrix is right. Why not talk about something else."

"Andy…" The dark haired witch warned, fingers clenched around her spoon.

"Like… Bella's wedding perhaps? Surely there are plenty of plans to discuss. Some of which I'm sure my dear sister here is needed for?" The brunette suggested 'innocently', smiling back at Bellatrix before looking at her mother.

Druella blinked once, then twice before she brightened up. Damnit, Andy, Bella thought to herself angrily, glaring daggers at her younger sister. "You're right! We only have a short few weeks before the big day and still so much to do. How about we end this little meal early and say we go to one of the boutiques nearby, check up on your wedding dress," Druella said as she rose from her seat.

And so that's what they did. They went to the boutique, checked the incredibly old fashioned dress, with what looked like the most painfully looking corset yet stitched into the fabric. After, they stopped by a few other shops to double check things were in order for the wedding before finally apparating home. The entire time Bellatrix had trudged along reluctantly behind her sisters and mother, offering a few weak comments and opinions for this thing and that when asked of her.

She was glad to finally be back home, finding relief in the knowledge that tomorrow morning she'd be returning back to Hogwarts, having spent the weekend with her family. On one hand she was glad she managed to extend the wedding date, convincing her parents that it might be wise that she finish her last year and take her N.E.W.T.s before focusing on 'wifely duties'. Yes, that was how she phrased it. And yes, they'd taken the bait, obviously wanting their daughter to focus on her marriage once out of school, and not caring about the intelligence hidden behind her usual mask of indifference.

She made short work separating from her family's side to make her way upstairs to her room. And then made even shorter work getting ready for bed. No one ever bothered her when she was up the stairs and hidden away. It was known to all that Bellatrix Black inherited the 'mad' gene in the family, more prone to violent outbursts and destructive tantrums. Because of this her room wasn't the prettiest, constantly being repaired and sparse so there were less objects to break. The room was also constantly being placed under a silencing charm, quieting her screams so the rest of the household could sleep peacefully. How thoughtful of them, she thought to herself bitterly.

The sun was already down by the time she emerged from the bathroom, all scrubbed up and her hair wet, the many strands in ringlets falling down her back. With her wand, she casted a quick-drying spell to both her body and hair, not bothering with any sleeping robes as she climbed into bed. Once in she blew out the candles before getting comfortable under the covers. Usually, it would be too early to go to sleep, and she'd have at least a glass or two of firewhiskey to help her doze off but she felt the whole unexpected wedding planning this afternoon was enough to do her in. Not only that but she did need to wake up early to catch the train back to Hogwarts tomorrow. So without much further thought she closed her heavy eyes and fell asleep, hoping things could be much easier in the future.

THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS

"Tom Riddle is in our class."

"I heard Tom's family is incredibly wealthy and direct descendants to Salazar Slytherin."

"It's true! I overheard him talking to snakes! Snakes!"

The whispers and excited talk continued on and on the moment Bellatrix stepped onto the Hogwarts express. If she thought Cissy talking to mother about this ‘nobody’ annoyed her, she was absolutely wrong. Hearing everyone around her discuss this Riddle boy absolutely drenched her high spirits and put her in one of her dark moods.

No one needed to look twice to know to stay away from the young witch. If dark glaring eyes didn't strike fear into her peers, then the dark energy and aura surrounding her would.

Not wanting to hear the gossip anymore Bella separated from her 'friends' and found a seating compartment for herself, only able to hold two people, but thankfully no one dared claim the other spot. She sat close to the window, forehead touching the glass, and seeming to cool her ever bubbling irritation. Trees and rolling hills passed by in a blur but she wasn't particularly watching, eyes slightly glazed over as she got lost in thought.

So lost in thought she almost didn't notice the sounds of her compartment door being slid open and a person taking a seat across from her. Blinking slowly she looked over to the 'intruder' as the door slid closed once more, leaving the two individuals with some privacy she didn't necessarily want.

The person in front of her was a young man. Probably around her age with dark brown hair, curling neatly at the front. He had bright emerald eyes, warm but she got the hint of something darker underneath, something dangerous hidden beneath the surface and ready to strike unsuspecting prey. Despite that though everything else about him seemed pretty bland. Pale skin- but not as pale as hers-, average build, and put together uniform.

"Who're you?" She found herself asking, swallowing the automatic 'get out' she was originally planning on saying. Given the fact she hasn't seen him before in this school year or any year before that, she was already dreading the answer. She wasn't even sure why she disliked him so much already. Maybe it was the fact he's barely even started school here and yet everyone was already drooling over him. Maybe it was the fact he was well known for things the student body hasn't even had proof of, things he was already praised for. And on her side of things she was well known for her infamous anger and her upcoming marriage to Rodolphus. That or her status of being the firstborn Black daughter. Otherwise known as the current heir of the Black family. Well. That was until her idiot cousin, Sirius was old enough to steal the mantle from her.

So when he said, "Tom. Tom Riddle," She really couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. Cause of course the person she had no care for was sat in, of all seats, the one in front of her. "Does that name offend you?" He then asked, wearing the same damn smirk he wore the moment she took in his appearance just seconds earlier.

"No," She said in a bored drawl, eyes once again gazing out the window as her head rested against the glass. "Unlike every other idiot out there, I care not for who you are. You're just another ordinary student attending Hogwarts. Nothing special about that," She told him, her tone consistent in telling him of how much she didn't care.

He was quiet for some time. Not too long, but enough to give her pause and wonder if she'd wandered too deep in thought and he'd slipped away. Only a glance his way revealed that, no, he was still here. "I agree," He finally spoke again. "There's nothing special about me at all. And I'm starting to despise the fact people are so interested in me. Took a look at the school Friday and suddenly everyone thinks so highly of me just because it was a private tour by the headmaster himself," He huffed.

It was clear to Bellatrix by the way he spoke, by the way he talked that he was excellent at charming people, manipulating them even if you would use the darker term. Again, she was many things but an idiot was not one of them and she wasn't falling for his 'charms' or tactics any time soon.

"Oh, poor you," She said in a mocking voice, jutting out her bottom lip as she faced him fully. "New kid in school has everyone fawning over him. Such a terrible life you must live, knowing you have everyone in the palm of your hands with just a smile." She finished the sentence off with said smile before turning it into a sneer.

"I won't repeat myself again. I care not for who you are, and I don't wish to know you or anything about you. So if you're going to sit here, then it better be in silence, or so help me merlin I will curse you. Laws be damned," She hissed. Hopefully for the last time she turned away again, feeling her mood lighten just slightly at her first threat of the day.

Usually, other students would run away by now, flee the vicinity in which she occupied, but Tom just sat there, in shock, or because he actually listened to her words. Finding herself curious about which option she chanced another glance but was surprised to see him wearing that annoying little smirk instead. "Cute," He told her, enjoying the way her eyes widened just slightly before darkening with anger. "That threat might work on others but it won't with me."

Her magic was absolutely crackling around her, like static in the air just before an oncoming storm. She was soon to make good on her threat. "Based on your looks, in how you speak, and the way I saw you walk earlier, looking down at everyone as if they were beneath you. I would safely assume you are a… Black. Bellatrix Black? Considering you look to be in the same year as me," He continued, assuming everything correctly. She didn't need to know though that he'd actually done his research prior to moving here, and that he had asked around earlier. "I don't expect you to get along with me from the start, but you will see me around often. I'll personally make sure of that. Cause I like you," He said with a shrug, smirk still in place.

Bold. Oh, so very bold and before Bellatrix could even utter a single word or even grab and raise her wand for that matter, he was already out the door. The space in front of her was once again vacant and she stared at the now unoccupied seat as the door slid closed.

LATER THAT DAY

It was almost impossible for the raven haired witch to avoid hearing or seeing Tom. It was as if everywhere she turned, someone was talking about him or he himself was staring at her from a distance. Usually she would never admit such a thing, her pride too strong, but it greatly unnerved her. Who the hell did he think he was? Claiming he would see her more often because he liked her? “Doesn’t even know me,” She scoffed to herself, annoyed as she continued on the familiar path to her dormitory.

Bellatrix was a slytherin through and through, like every other Black family member before her. There had been no question about it. Well, maybe after. She questioned it alot. The houses, the characteristics and traits. All of it. And once she's put herself in a more outside perspective about it she really couldn't help but laugh at the whole student body, almost all of them adapting and practically absorbing their houses certain traits into their own personality.

Anyway, she was a slytherin, but she couldn't help but wonder if she'd changed her mindset that first day, if her family hadn't been so adamant on which house she went to, would she have been chosen for hufflepuff, perhaps? Maybe gryffindor? Ew, no. Possibly ravenclaw. These thoughts raced past in her mind as she made her way down into the dungeons. There was a little of her in each, she supposed.

"Drommie, Cissy," Bellatrix greeted once she made it into the girls dorm, having already said the password and walked through the shared sitting room. All three Black sisters shared the same room, something Bellatrix and her mother both insisted and agreed upon to the headmaster when first starting school here. It was a protective thing. Bella knew that her sisters weren't like her, lacking in gut and courage. She was sure Andromeda could take care of herself, at times, but if worse came to worse she was more likely to break under pressure and need rescuing from her bigger sister. And little Narcissa, the spoiled brat she was, didn't have a single backbone in her body, choosing instead to flee or hide behind one's robes. Despite those certain qualities though Bellatrix still loved her sisters dearly and simply made it a priority to keep them safe, consequences to herself be damned.

Sure… maybe it was Bella's fault for them needing protection, having spent most of her years reigning terror down upon those who even glance at her, therefore her peers not liking her and taking it out on her sisters instead. But… hey! They looked at her funny, they deserved it!

"Bella why didn't you sit with us on the train," Narcissa asked, looking at her older sister as she sat on her bed.

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and walked past, towards her own bed furthest in the room and by the window. "As if I'd sit and listen to you two and your friends gossiping about the 'new boy'," She said back.

Andromeda turned to her with a quirked brow. "I don't know, by the looks of it you sat just fine with the 'new boy' before you ran him away."

Bellatrix was only able to scoff as a response before Narcissa quickly interrupted, hopping over towards Bellatrix. "You got to talk to Tom Riddle?" She asked excitedly. "How was he like? Was he charming? Did he show you parseltongue?"

"Cissy, please, calm down. He was none of those things. He was very bland… and cocky, and arrogant," Bella responded, the end getting heated with annoyance. Not towards her sister of course.

"Sounds like someone I know," Andromeda spoke up with a pointed look Bella's way.

"Shut up," The dark haired witch shot back. Because of course she couldn't deny it. She was those things sometimes… all the time. "Whatever. Let’s go. It's time for lunch anyway."

(A/N: lets be honest idk how classes work at hogwarts so lets say bellatrix and sis’s meet up w mother on the reggy, with permission or without, and this particular weekend was a break for all students to either visit their fam or relax in their dorms/explore school grounds. today (mon) is a day for them to get readjusted and classes start up again the following day. anyway continue)

All the way to the great hall Bellatrix's sisters continued teasing her about Tom. Thankfully she took the teasing easily, shoving her sisters good naturedly and joking along. That was until they reached the great hall. She didn't think her sisters noticed but as they walked past others to get to their table Bellatrix could feel a strong force on her, like something digging into the back of her head. She scanned her eyes around the room once, trying to catch the culprit of whatever was happening but all she could see were other students eating merrily, not a clue to her predicament. Thankfully by the time she'd sat down the force had vanished and she could focus back on her sisters.

Tom stood just outside the doors of the great hall, panting and trying to catch his breath. Never had he been rejected so quickly from someone's mind, not even close to breaching it in fact. Her magic was strong, untampered and just waiting to be fully unleashed just beneath the surface. A magic enough to rival his own. She may think she was strong now but oh just wait until he had her with him, by his side. Just wait until he showed her what she's truly capable of.

With these thoughts in mind he swiftly walked away from the great hall entrance, on his way back to his dorm.

[whumpsideblog]

Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five

@im-not-rare-im-rarr @constellationwhump @justwhumpitwhumpitgood @maybeawhumpblog @lumpofwhump @whumpity--whump--whump @inky-whump 

 Here’s part six! Thank you so much to everyone whose actually read this far haha, and thank you for all the nice comments and tags on the previous parts!

*** “Hold still, pet.” Silas winced as the brush was dragged through his hair, getting caught on knots and tangles. “I have guests coming tonight and you need to look presentable.” For the most part he was already presentable, Alastair had brought him much nicer clothes to wear, sat on him in order to shave his face without much struggle, and now he was trying to wrestle with his hair. 

 “Oh boy, let me guess, I’m the main dish?” He said sarcastically. Him and Elise agreed he was more likely to survive if he gave in to the vampire at least a little bit, but he held his snarky remarks dear to his heart and refused to let that go.

 “No dear, you’re more like dessert.” The vampire laughed. Silas didn’t feel any better. “You need to behave tonight, understand? I would hate to have to punish you in front of my friends.”

 “You have friends?” He snickered, earning him a whack on the back of the head with the hairbrush. He decided it was worth it. He watched Alastair’s movements in the mirror he sat in front of, before finally asking, “I thought vampires don’t have reflections?”

 “Do you humans believe everything you hear about vampires? What, do you believe we sleep in coffins too?”

 “I’m not going to answer that.” 

 “You really are adorable.” Alastair laughed. “Do you think I could look the way I do without a mirror?”

 “I thought you looked that way because you don’t have a reflection.” Another whack on the back of the head. 

 “If you be good for me tonight then I plan on giving you a reward. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He asked.

 “What’s my reward?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

 “It’s a surprise. As long as you don’t cause me any problems you'll receive it.”

 “Why take me then? If it’s such a risk that I could fuck something up for you, Why not leave me here like usual?”

 “I thought about that.” Alastair said, finally setting the brush aside and beginning to braid his hair. “I could leave you behind and keep you to myself, or, I could show you off, my captured little hunter.” He sounded amused. “Not Many vampires can say they’re keeping a hunter as a pet. You’re something special.”

 “I feel ridiculous.” He couldn’t help but scowl, he never dressed this nice, never did his hair this way, he couldn’t remember the last time there wasn’t some amount of stubble on his chin. He was all dressed up to the vampire’s liking, meant to be paraded around like a prized pet. He felt sick all of a sudden. 

 ***

 “He’s adorable!”

 “He looks so angry.”

 “He smells delicious.” The first one added.

 Silas wanted nothing more than to grab the knife laying on the table and stab his own throat. Four vampires. Four vampires on top of the usual annoying fuck he had to deal with. Three men and a woman, the latter of which was hanging on to Silas. She was tall and rail thin, dark wavy hair cut short. She smelled like roses, he hated that she was close enough for him to smell her.

 The other guests included a younger vampire- he looked younger anyway, these freaks were all well over a hundred years old, a man who appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties who Alastair was talking to, and a young man who looked close to his age. He’d been quiet this whole time, while the younger one and the woman fawned over him. He kept an eye on Silas though, watching his every move. 

 Silas sat at Alastair’s side, probably so he could reach over and smack him at any given moment. When food was served, he was surprised to see that he’d been given a plate as well, and Alastair seemed to notice this. 

 “Eat up love, you won’t want to end the night with an empty stomach.” He told him. He knew he meant that he better eat, all the better for when they eventually devoured him. He wondered how he’d even survive that.

  “So kind of you to let your pet sit at the table.” The woman said at some point in the meal. “Mine is still trying to fight me on that.” She sighed. 

 “It’s easier to keep an eye on him. Besides, he knows that if he misbehaves he’ll be back on the floor.” Silas shoved a forkful of food into his mouth to avoid saying anything. 

 “Is he always this quiet?” The older man asked.

 “No, he actually has quite a mouth on him.” Alastair laughed. “I promised him a reward if he behaved tonight, that may have improved his mood.” That had nothing to do with his silence but he decided to keep it to himself. He didn’t need to be completely submissive to the vampire, but he could be quiet, keep to himself, not give any reason for the vampire to hurt him. He just needed to survive.

 “He looks so angry though.” The younger one said, leaning forward on the table. 

 “I’m sure he’s absolutely seething.” Alastair grinned. “He’s incredibly stubborn, I still haven’t completely broken him in. Yet, he’s being very good for me tonight.” He reached over, brushing a stray hair from his face. Instinctively, Silas flinched away, causing Alastair to roughly grab his face. “Don’t pull away from me, you should know better.” He said sternly. Silas glared silently at him, but his face burned red with embarrassment, the other vampires watching him in amusement. “What do you say, love?” 

 “Yes sir.” He said through gritted teeth. Alastair smiled, gently patting his cheek. Silas felt sick, he couldn’t think of eating another bite. He quickly downed his glass of wine, and was relieved when a maid came to refill it. He glanced up, seeing Elise looking at him worriedly. She looked even more uncomfortable than usual, and though they locked eyes they couldn’t speak, not with all these vampires around. 

 “You can’t just sit there and drink, you need to eat.” Alastair said sternly. “You don’t want a repeat of last time, do you?” Silas gave him a look, a weak glare really, but reluctantly he tried to eat as much as he could, tuning out the vampires as Alastair explained how stubborn he’d been the first time he made him eat. 

 He expected this to be a horribly traumatic event but it was actually rather boring, he was expected to sit there and look pretty. The only thing that kept him on edge was knowing that sooner or later the vampire’s would decide it was time for “dessert”.

 Eventually they had mostly finished eating, the vampire’s were continuing to drink while Alastair had told Silas he was cut off from the wine. The woman had come to hang on to him again, behaving as if this were a completely normal thing to do while she spoke to Alastair. He wondered what it was about vampires that made them unable to keep their hands to themselves. 

 “Can we try him already?” She finally asked, sounding impatient. “Please Alastair?”

 “You have to be careful, there are four of you and only one of him.” Alastair warned her, but she took this as a yes, already undoing the top buttons on his shirt and pulling his collar aside. Alastair had grabbed his hand, he was entirely distracted by the woman who had tilted his head to the side that he didn’t realize what he was doing until something sharp sliced across his wrist. He gritted his teeth, trying to jerk his hand away but Alastair held tight, pressing the edge of a half full wine glass against the cut. He wasn’t able to question him though as the woman sank her fangs into his neck, causing him to cry out. 

 He tried to pull away but that just made it hurt worse, and she easily held him down. Her nails dug into his shoulders, almost warning him that if he kept struggling it would just get worse. 

 “Wait, I wanna try!” The young one sounded excited, snatching Silas’ other wrist, wasting no time in biting down on it. When Alastair bit him it never hurt this much, sure it was excruciating, but something about having two vampires feeding off him was making the pain that much worse, Silas couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t even feel sick or scared because all he felt was that horrible stabbing pain. 

 It felt like an eternity before Alastair finally told them to back off, that Silas couldn’t take much more. He’d gone completely pale, he was breathing heavily and as the vampire’s finally pulled back the rest of the effects hit him. He was still bleeding from the wrist that was cut, he couldn’t be bothered to care though. The room wouldn’t stay still, he couldn’t see straight. His heart hammered in his chest as he took deep heavy breaths. He couldn’t remember feeling this anxious in his life, the worst had passed, yet he still felt like something horrible was going to happen to him.  He looked to Alastair, suddenly grabbing his arm.

 “I-I need to leave, sir, please, I'm going to throw up.” He gasped, feeling sick to his stomach, sick enough to say anything to get out of that room. He couldn’t tell for sure, but Alastair almost looked concerned.

 “Elise, go with him, he won’t be able to walk on his own.” He ordered her, and she said a quick yes sir, coming and helping Silas to his feet. He almost collapsed right away, Elise had to struggle to hold him up. He was aware of the vampire’s watching him, teasing him, but he didn’t care, he just needed out.

 Elise had a hard time supporting him, he had to lean against the wall for support, but they only made it down the hall and around the corner before he finally collapsed, falling to his knees and leaning against the wall to stay up.

 “S-stay here, okay? I’m going to get you something.” She told him. He couldn’t have gone anywhere anyway but he didn’t say anything as she hurried off. He at least felt somewhat better now that he was out of the room, slowly taking deep breaths and trying to calm down. He was cold yet vaguely aware that he was covered in sweat, and he suddenly felt incredibly exhausted. He hoped Elise would come back soon, he wanted to feel better already. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

 “Stand up.” He jumped at the sudden voice, eyes snapping open. The vampire who had been watching him all night was standing there, looking down on him. 

 “H-huh…?” He tiredly looked up at him.

 “Stand up.” He slapped him hard across the face, Silas nearly fell over he was too weak to hold himself up. His lip was bleeding, he was aware of that, and the stinging pain in his face. “Are you really this fucking pathetic? The high and mighty Silas, can’t even stand up and face me?!” 

 “What is your problem?!” He snapped, and the vampire grabbed him by the hair, slamming his head hard against the wall. It would’ve hurt if anybody had done it but the unbridled strength of a vampire was something else entirely, he swore his head left a hole in the wall. 

 “You and every other fucking hunter! That’s my problem!” Silas couldn’t respond, his head was slammed into the wall again, and again, and again. He couldn’t think straight, he was back in that awful and anxious and confused space again, nothing was real yet everything was too much. He didn’t even realize the vampire had pulled him to his feet until he felt that familiar aching pain that standing always brought. “You pathetic son of a bitch, you won’t even fight back?!” 

 He couldn’t even muster a response, staring blankly at the vampire as he tried to think of anything to say. This vampire couldn’t be reasoned with, he knew that much, even if he did, he didn’t have the mental capacity to make much of an effort. His silence just seemed to piss him off more, he tried to pull away as his shirt was ripped open, murmuring a desperate “No no no no no-“ 

 “Shut up!” The vampire hissed. “If you won’t bother fighting me then I don’t want to hear your begging.” A cold hand in the center of his chest, he was so tired of being touched. That familiar fog clouded his mind again, yet this was different. Alastair’s hold on him was gentle and comfortable, calming even, pulling him into a false sense of security. This wasn't like that, this was a horrible feeling of dread, a darkness that made it hard to breathe, hard to think. What he could feel though was a sudden sharp pain, the vampire digging his nails into his chest. “I’m going to make you suffer, Hunter, you deserve to suffer.” He snarled. 

 He couldn’t think, couldn’t move, that dreadful feeling holding him in place against his will. His chest hurt where the vampire hooked his nails into his flesh, but then he suddenly started dragging his hand down, leave deep cuts down his chest, to his stomach. He tried to scream but his voice just wouldn’t work, and he could forget about holding back his tears. At this point he didn’t even really care about that, what did it matter? He figured this was how he was going to die, he closed his eyes and just hoped it would be over soon.

 “That’s enough.” A stern voice cut through the fog, he could finally focus on the vampire in front of him, and more importantly, on the vampire behind that one. He’d never thought he’d be relieved to see Alastair.

 “Why are you protecting him Alastair?! You have him right here, you could kill him, why haven’t you?!” He snapped, though he finally let go of Silas, who immediately fell to his knees.

 “I said, that’s enough.” Alastair repeated. Reluctantly the other vampire stepped aside, still glaring at Silas though. Alastair knelt down, gently grabbing his chin, examining his face. He couldn’t look him in the eye, he knew he looked terrible and for once he didn’t have it in him to be as stubborn as normal. His head hurt, his ears were ringing, he still felt nauseous. He almost wished he could just lay down and die.

 “Y-you here to beat m-me up too…?” He murmured, unable to even focus on his face.

 “No, love, you’re already hurt.” He stood up, carefully lifting him up. He whined, every movement causing him to hurt more. “Go back to the others, now.” He ordered the other vampire, who gave Silas a look before going on his way. Silas finally felt himself relax, though he figured that could also be that he was dying. He never wanted to go out held in a vampire’s arms, but he found himself leaning his head against his chest, closing his eyes. 

 “This is a pretty fucking awful way to die...” He murmured, and Alastair laughed softly.

 “You’re not dying my love, I’ll take care of you.” Silas strongly disagreed but he didn’t argue. “It’s a good  thing Elise came and got me when she did though.” He didn’t even remember Elise coming back, he almost felt bad that she probably had to see that. He didn’t open his eyes again until he was laid down on a soft, comfortable surface. He quickly realized he had no clue where he was, opening his eyes and looking around. 

 The room was rather big, as was the bed he laid on. Large floor to ceiling windows with curtains drawn to let in the moonlight, illuminating the  lavishly decorated room. Alastair had left him for now, Silas didn’t see how he could possibly survive if something wasn’t done about his multiple injuries. Still, it was nice to be able to lay somewhere comfortable for once, completely unrestrained too. He wanted nothing more than to just go to sleep, he almost didn’t care if he never woke up for it.

 “I need you to stay awake for me dear.” He jumped at his voice, he hadn’t even heard him come in.

 “Why…? I’m so tired, just lemme sleep…” he mumbled.

 “You humans don’t take injuries well, I need you to stay awake.” He said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He carefully helped him sit up, Silas could barely focus on him though. He didn’t fight or struggle, he let Alastair remove his shirt, he openly wined when a cold rag was pressed against his chest, medicine stinging his fresh wounds.

 “What’s his problem anyway…?” He murmured, and Alastair sighed.

 “Many vampires have lost loved ones to hunters. Dmitri is still… grieving. I didn’t think he would ever do something like this though…” he frowned, carefully wrapping bandages around his torso before tending to the cut on his wrist. 

 “He’s worse than you…” he murmured. “You… you do that thing… and it feels so good, I hate it but I’ve never felt so relaxed in my life… but it hurt, I thought I… I thought I was dying…”

 “I know love.” He said softly. “You’re Okay now, I promise.” He finished up, taking a moment to untie his hair for him before laying him back down. “You can rest now, Okay? I’ll be back soon…” he pulled the blanket over him before going and pulling the curtains closed. Silas sighed and closed his eyes, listening to his retreating footsteps. It was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time, he couldn’t help but embrace it, finally falling asleep. 

***

He was awoken hours later, disturbed by the presence of cold arms embracing him. Tiredly he sat up, momentarily confused by his surroundings. The curtains were still drawn shut but he could see faint rays of sun shining in beneath them. He wondered what time it must’ve been, glancing to the tired vampire watching him.

 “You haven’t been asleep for long, love.” He told him, taking his arm and gently pulling him down. “Just relax, Okay?”

 “Why are you in bed with me?” He asked bluntly, and Alastair laughed.

 “Actually, you’re in bed with me. This is my room after all.” He pulled him close, chest pressed against his back. He couldn’t help but shiver, he was so cold. 

 “I think I’d rather go back to my cage, please.” He tried to pull away but Alastair held him tight. 

 “That’s awfully rude you know. I mean, I did save your life. I think that you owe me for that.” 

 “What could I possibly give you in return? You seem to have everything you need.” 

 “Almost everything.” He sat up, looking down at him and he gently pulled his hair away from his face. “Everything except an obedient little hunter to stop causing me problems.” 

 “Well, I can’t give you that.” He turned on to his side, closing his eyes, only for Alastair to pull him on to his back again.

 “Why do you keep fighting, love?” He asked, voice soft and gentle. “You have everything you need here, and if you could just behave, you’d have even more. I love you little hunter, and if you have in you would be so, so well taken care of.” 

 “Freedom is more important than comfort.” He said seriously. “And you don’t love me, you love the idea of keeping me as a pet.”

 “Mm, same thing.” He shrugged. He laid back down with him, draping an arm over him. “You value your freedom a lot, hm…?” His hand gently traced down his chest, careful of the bandaged wounds. He kept his mouth shut, trying to move away from him. “What happened to you pet? This longing for freedom, your aversion to touch and love, who hurt you before me?”

 “Stop.” He had quickly scrambled out of the bed, catching Alastair off guard as he more or less fell on to the floor. “Please, just- just stop.” He was feeling sick again, suddenly this large room didn’t seem so large anymore. Alastair seemed amused, getting out of bed and kneeling down in front of him.

 “Seems I struck a chord… what are you hiding little hunter? I’ve never seen you so upset by something I said.”

 “Just stop.” He repeated. “Please, Alastair, I’ll do anything, just stop pushing this.” 

 “Please what? You’re forgetting your manners.” He teased. Silas backed away somewhat, watching Alastair nervously as he just kept advancing on him.

 “Please, m-master…” his cheeks burned bright red, he hardly cared though, focusing on the taunting vampire.

 “You don’t want me to force it out of you, hm? You know that I could, you know you’ll say anything if I play with your mind enough.”

 “Please.” He begged. “Let me keep this, I- I can’t tell you, I just can’t…” Alastair was over him now, nearly pinning him down.

 “You could tell me, if I decide to make you.” He seemed to take joy in the fear in Silas’ eyes, in his genuinely terrified expression. “But,” he leaned down, gently placing a kiss on his forehead, “I won’t.” Silas nearly collapsed with relief, sighing heavily. “What do you say, love?”

 “Th-thank you…” He murmured, and Alastair grinned.

 “There’s a good boy. Come back to bed now, will you?” 

 “Yes-yes sir…”

[petri808]

Storm of Another Matter

Inspired by @polyham beautiful art post here  Thank you for letting me write this!  and thank you to @diabl0o for giving me idea for the ending :)

“This is bullshit,” Katsuki growls at the airport check-in attendant.  But there was nothing the poor woman could do.  She hadn’t caused the storm that left the airport at a stand still.  

“Im sorry sir, but all I can offer is up to two free nights at the airports hotel next door.  We hope tomorrow we’ll be able to get planes off the ground again.  And here,” she hands him an umbrella, “complimentary.  I’ll have your bags sent to the hotel right now.”

“Fine,” he grabs the umbrella from the counter, “just make sure there’s two beds!”  No way, he was gonna share one with his co-worker Izuku. Katsuki’s ears burned just at the thought of it, but he stamps down the flutter.  He turns back to his nerdy companion, “come on Deku, let’s go!” Then marches off towards the exit.

“Sorry miss,” Izuku blushes, “Kaachan’s grumpy, but he’s not really a bad guy.  Thank you,” he waves and rushes to catch up to his friend.

Outside, the rains had slowed some but flashes of light and rumbling still raged on like a battle cry amongst the clouds.  Izuku looks to the umbrella gripped tightly in Katsuki’s hand.  “G-Guess the umbrella comes in handy,” he cracks a half-hearted wit. His co-worker merely grumps and opens it without saying a word.  Izuku sigh’s, wishing Katsuki would lighten up a little.  He wasn’t happy about being stuck here either but savoring these little moments between them made up for it.  

“Well?!  Get under here so we can go!”

That snaps Izuku out of his thoughts.  “S-sorry.” He steps under the umbrella, but his shoulder is still left uncovered.  

Katsuki takes a second to calm his tone and heart.  “Idiot move in closer.  I don’t wanna deal with ya if you get sick.”

It takes a couple more seconds of hesitancy as Izuku assesses the situation.  Squeezing in shoulder to shoulder still left him open to the elements.  But if he…  if Katsuki doesn’t immediately kill him for it...  Izuku slips his arm through the crook of his friends.  ‘Breathe,’ and smile, Izuku wills himself as he looks up and over.  

This man!  Katsuki bites the inside of his cheek and squeezes the hand he holds in his pocket into a fist.  It takes all the willpower he’s got to hold back the heat swirling in his frame from the contact, nor bite his co-workers head off for pulling such a stunt in public!  He turns to Izuku, managing a scowl, but nothing more.

Izuku’s cheeks flush, unable to hold back the emotions coiling in the pit of his stomach.  He bites his lip through the nervous energy, his breath catching when Katsuki’s eyes flicker for a second to them.  “We should get to the hotel.”  Izuku reminds in a soft tone too afraid for anything more.

Quickly, Katsuki turns his focus away, internally chastising himself for letting Izuku get the better of him.  Damn nerd always makes him flustered.  “Tch, you’re the one holding us up.”  

They hurry to the hotel located across the street.  A simple looking building with just a bland neon sign of its name, scaled above the door. Not surprising in any way, this was mainly for those needing to wait through a layover not some romantic getaway.

“I’m sorry sir’s, but due to the storm, all we have left are single bed rooms.”

“What!!!”

“Kaachan,” Izuku grabs his friend’s shoulder to hold him back, “it can’t be helped.”

Katsuki roughly shrugs Izuku’s hand away and stomps back to their bags to cool off.  He wanted to snap, but they need somewhere to sleep and since some of the roads were also closed from flooding, this was their best option.  ‘Wonder if this place has got a gym?’

“J-Just give us the room please,” Izuku asks the front desk clerk, “he’s tired and we could use some sleep.”

With card key’s in hand, the pair head to their room.  ‘One freaking bed,’ Katsuki seethes as he glares at the neatly made King-sized bed. The room was small, made mostly for business travelers and didn’t even have a couch.  

Seeing the look on his travel companion’s face, Izuku offers to make do with the floor.  “No,” Katsuki responds in a low tone.  It wouldn’t be right to put Izuku in that position. “But just stay on your damn side!”

After showers and picking their sides of the bed, Katuski orders an action movie to watch.  He wasn’t tired enough to sleep yet and figured maybe the movie would help him get there.  Izuku lays back with the same intentions.  Katsuki gets comfortable, placing his arms behind his head to prop it. The movie wasn’t one he’d seen before and it was turning out to be a pretty good one.  Too bad his friend wasn’t lasting in the same way.  Slowly, Izuku’s eyes began to close and he found it amusing every time it would, he’d see his friend force them back open again. It was cute.

‘Stop it!’ Katsuki chastised himself, willing down the building warmth and fluttering in his stomach.  But he couldn’t help it.  They’d been friends since childhood and now co-workers. There wasn’t another person alive save his parents that knew him as well as Izuku did.  And although they were polar opposites in almost every way imaginable, the nerd had somehow wiggled his way into Katsuki’s heart.  Not that he wanted to say it aloud!  

He feels Izuku shift, and before he could stop him, the man rests his head on Katsuki’s shoulder.  “Oi, get off me!” he pushes Izuku back to his side as his heart stammered in his chest.  Thankfully, Izuku seemed oblivious.

“Sorry Kaachan,” Izuku yawns, his eyes still closed, “you’re nice and warm.”

“Yeah, so is the blanket!”

The next morning, Katsuki is the first to stir, but his arm is trapped.  He opens his eyes and all he can see is green hair!  ‘Oh crap!  Oh crap! Oh crap!’  Not only had Izuku cuddled to him, but he had done the same! Their legs were slightly tangled together and Izuku was now tucked to Katsuki’s chest, sleeping peacefully, with Katsuki’s arms wrapped around him.  ‘Fuck!  Fuck! Fuck!’  He tries to pull his arm out from under the sleeping Izuku, but the man whimpers and curls deeper into Katsuki.  The temperature of the room spikes as things grew awkward.  He yanks his arm away and forces a detangling. The jerking motion quickly wakes up Izuku.        

“Time to get up,” Katsuki snaps at the dazed man, then books it to the bathroom.

It takes a few seconds to process with a groggy mind, but Izuku finally realizes why Katsuki had snapped. He cringes, ‘uh-oh, I’d cuddled to Kaachan!’  Izuku braces for another round of yelling, but when Katsuki came out of the bathroom, the man didn’t say anything.  

For the rest of the trip home, it was never brought up again.  But things remained even more awkward than usual between the two men.  Short sentences and curt responses, and never once would Katsuki look Izuku in the eyes.  It baffled Izuku.  Shouldn’t he be the one more embarrassed and unable to look his friend in the face?  He was the one that cuddled to Katsuki, right? By the time the plane landed at home, Izuku was starting to wonder if maybe the reason his friend was acting suspiciously, was because it hadn’t been one-sided, but two?!  Did he want to ask and risk getting his head ripped off?  Oh, this was driving his over-thinking mind crazy!          

They grab their bags from the baggage claim and walk towards the front sidewalk without a word.  Ask, don’t ask?  Ask, don’t ask?  Izuku plays the petal game in his head.  The closer they get to the taxi section, the faster the words fly across his mind.  ‘Make up your mind!’  He screams at himself.

Katsuki sees an awaiting taxi and heads towards it.

“K-Kaachan, c-could I ask you something,” Izuku places his hand on his friend’s shoulder to stop him.

“What now Deku?  I just wanna get home already.”

“I-I know,” Izuku fiddles with his fingers, “but I was wondering, a-and I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to do this later, s-so, I….”

“Spit it out nerd!”

“W-would you go out on a date with me?!”

A bright flush, steal’s across Katuski’s face, a coloring to rival his ruby eyes.  “Did you just?!”  He couldn’t believe his ears or his sanity!  

Izuku flinches from the reaction, throwing his hands up in defense.  “I’m sorry, forget I asked!”  The young man was heartbroken.  His shoulders slump, “I’ll see you at work on Monday,” he turns and walks towards another open taxi, ready to go home and drown away his sorrow.

“Idiot,” Katsuki mumbles. “Deku, get your ass back here!”

“Huh?” Izuku stops and quickly makes his way back to his friend.  “Why.”

Katsuki motions towards his awaiting taxi.  “Just get the fuck in nerd.  Let’s go home.”  

[dongyucks]

Cut like knives - Park Jisung

It’s officially angst hours for me seeing as it’s rainy and fricKIN COLD. it’s legit supposed to be spring and it’s colder right now than it was in winter, im seething. Anyways, I hope you enjoy loves!

You didn’t realise when he’d first talked to you, with that shy smile and heavy blush, that he’d end up meaning so much to you. That gentle purple hair you didn’t realise you’d come to love, the deep voice that made you smile every time you heard it. He’d come into your life so suddenly, yet he quickly became everything you wanted in it. Park Jisung and his god damn smile.

It was at the end of year bomb fire that he’d first talked to you. You didn’t actually know why you went, seeing as you didn’t like the atmosphere of the event nor did you have any friends begging you to come, you just felt socially obligated with everyone talking it up so much as it neared. You were doing exactly what you thought you’d be doing, sitting off to the side with the bottle of water you’d bought yourself as you watched everyone interact and make new memories. It was quite nice really, but the things they were up to just weren’t your idea of fun.

He had come up slowly, edging closer from where he stood off to the side watching the same people you were, except he knew the personally. Jaemin had Renjun over his shoulder, threatening to throw him into the ocean if he didn’t stop talking about aliens or something. By the time Jisung actually took a seat next to you he had been edging closer for about 5 minutes, all of which you were painstakingly aware of. He had a heavy blush on his cheeks and you still weren’t entirely if you were the cause or if it was the liquid that swirled in his cup. A shy smile was playing on his lips as he fiddled with his hands, brain seemingly in full swing despite his lack of words.

“You looked lonely” His tone was harsh, and you couldn’t help but smile at what he had eventually managed to spit out, Jisung however was quick to start rapidly apologising after realising he had accidentally been a little too up front for a first introduction. You still teased him about that, his failed attempt at small talk.

“I’m not, but thanks” Jisung seemed to let out what might’ve been the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard at your humorous response, eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled at you.

“Not a people person?” He raised his eyebrow while waiting for your response, taking a sip from his cup once more.

“Not in the slightest” He laughed at that, taking another small sip before lowering his cup and casting his gaze back to where Renjun was now trying to beat up Jaemin with no avail.

“Not my thing either” You barely managed to pry your eyes from the chaos in the white water, but you were glad you did. The fire seemed to light up Jisung’s face in a way that made him look angelic, and it was the first time you felt that little spark he always seemed to give you.

You wouldn’t have called him a friend the day after the bomb fire, but definitely a close acquaintance. You had spent the night by each other’s sides, talking as only the stars listened in.  

He started waving to you in the halls and you started smiling at him in physics class, but you never really seemed to run into each other too often. It was a house party you’d next met up. Jisung had invited you actually, his excuse being that it was at Jeno’s and he had an odd number off friends that were all too extroverted for him. You knew it was a lie, Chenle would never leave Jisung alone, but for some reason you went anyway, despite hating parties and people.

You had spent a little while just standing off against a wall when you’d arrived, unsure of where to even find Jisung. Eventually you got sick off the noise and headed to the kitchen, seeing none other than Chenle pouring himself a drink. He smiled at you, pouring you one too without asking. It tasted horrible but you weren’t going to tell the poor boy that.

“If you’re looking for Jisung he’s on the balcony upstairs” Chenle winked at you as he walked past, seemingly misunderstanding why his best friend had been looking for you all evening.

So, you took your drink from hell and went upstairs, finding the balcony after finding a rather disturbing activity in one of the bedrooms. You stopped at the door to the balcony for just a second, taking note of way the wind was blowing through Jisung’s light purple locks, tousling them as it lifted from his forehead. You had to say, he looked even more angelic under the moonlight than by he had by the fire.

You had eventually opened the door after spending a small moment admiring the boy. He turned to you, smiling once he recognised you. He smelt lightly off alcohol, but you just assumed he had probably had one or two of Chenle’s concoctions himself.

“I was worried you weren’t gonna show” Jisung patted the ground next to him watching as you took a seat and placed your cup next to his. A spark of recognition fluttered across his eyes as he looked at the drink, probably knowing exactly who’d poured it for you.

“I came a while ago, just didn’t know where to find you” Jisung let out a little laugh at that, the one he does where it’s almost inaudible and breathy. It was your favourite, because he only did that when you were having your late-night chats that meant so much to the both of you.

“Did miss anti-social actually enjoy the party then?” He exaggerated his surprise, knowing full well you most certainly did not.

“Oh yeah, me and the wall in the living room were all over each other” You let out a stifled giggle as Jisung shot you an overly surprised expression, mouth wide as he laughed a little. He scanned you for a second before taking your phone from your jacket pocket and giving it to you to unlock. You shot him questioning glance as you did so, watching as he fiddled before typing something in and handing it back to you.

“So you can text me next time instead of going steady with the wall” You laughed when you looked at his name, hitting his arm as you did. He’d saved his number under ‘only friend <3’.

“You’re actually a rat Jisung” Your shared laughter was loud as he pulled out his own phone this time.

“Okay but at least call me so I have your number too,” You did, watching as he smiled while adding you as a contact. “I’m setting your name as Bingo boy”

You couldn’t help the little scoff that cam out when he said that, his smile evil. “Why?”

“You seem like you’d go play bingo at a retirement village in your free time” 

“I’m literally never coming to a party with you again Jisung.”

You had lied, because the weekend after you found yourself walking through the door of yet another party looking for Jisung. You weren’t sure why you kept going to these parties just for Jisung, but for some reason you didn’t mind that you couldn’t justify it. It was an adventure, and god knows you needed one in your boring life.

You hadn’t stayed long at that one though. They had started playing spin the bottle and you’d shot Jisung the ‘I’m leaving look’ to which he laughed and walked across the circle to you, following you out the door.

“You don’t have to leave to Ji” You didn’t turn to look at him, just kept walking as he laughed.

“I’ll drive you home. I purposely didn’t drink tonight”

For some reason seeing Jisung get behind the wheel of a car was terrifying, despite the fact he was indeed legally allowed to. Of course, being the person you were you had jokingly made him prove he was sober, which he did with laughter and no complaints. By the time you were actually driving in Jisung’s beat up little car, his hand on the gear stick as you chatted away, you found yourself not wanting to ask him if he knew where had was going. You knew he didn’t, he knew he didn’t, you both just wanted to keep talking. So, you just kept driving. Eventually you stopped at a park, lying now on the bonnet of his car.

The conversation flowed as it always did, but when silence feel this time you were left with the genuine silence instead of the background noise of party goers. That’s when Jisung sprung an interesting question.

“Don’t you feel lonely living in your own little world?”

“Don’t you feel powerless living in other people’s?”

“Touché,” Jisung mused, his voice slowing and lowering in pitch as he mumbled one more. “Touché”

You let out a sigh, deciding that maybe, despite the fact you didn’t really know this boy all too well besides the odd party conversation and all the dumb texts, he was a good enough person to actually open up to. “Sometimes. Sometimes it really does get lonely and I just look around and wonder why I never tried harder to make more friends, genuine friends. But mostly its fine, actually. I prefer the life of solitude, because the less people know you the less they can hurt you”

“You’re braver than you think you are you know, y/n” You turned to the boy, catching his gaze and holding it. Neither of you spoke then, just letting the silence say everything you needed to. It only broke when Jisung took in a little breath and moved closer, his face nearing yours. It continued to do so until you were milometers apart, both unsure and nervous. Maybe it was a spur of the moment thing you’d regret later, but with the feelings you got with every little text he sent, you doubted it.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was quiet, gentle as his breathe feathered across your face. With a small nod the distance between you closed, his lips on yours in a moment neither of you had yet processed. It felt different, but it felt right. It really felt right.

It no longer took a party for the two of you to meet up after that. A simple text and you’d be in his passenger seat again, chatting as you drove. Sometimes you went to get food and sometimes you ended just kissing one another as Jisung’s dumb playlist played in the background. It was good, it was everything you had ever imagined.

He’d introduced you to his friends one day after you’d run into them while getting food. They were nicer than you thought they’d be, just as crazy as you’d predicted though. By the end of the hour Mark had Donghyuck in a headlock and Jeno looked about ready to straight up murder Jisung. You’d really enjoyed it though, it made you feel like you were a part of their friendship, a part of something larger than yourself for once.

You were changing, and it seemed to be for the better. People became easier to deal with, friends became easier to make. You weren’t as scared when you went out to social events and you found yourself more involved and having far more fun than you ever thought possible.

Jisung was changing too. He seemed a little less shy, a little more confident. But with the good changes came the bad. The little good morning texts stopped coming, the 3am food runs stopped, all the nice innocent factors seemed to slowly leave, leaving you only getting texts when Jisung was replying to you or wanted to go for a drive. But a drive no longer meant lying on the hood of his car and talking, it no longer meant belting out high school musical songs, it was only making out with that dumb music.

It didn’t feel right anymore. So, you texted Jisung, and he responded as he always did. It was about 20 minutes later that he pulled up outside your house and you took your regular spot in his passenger side. It didn’t feel the same though, there was an atmosphere you didn’t like that seemed to choke the both of you.

It was already dark outside, the stars beginning to start their beautiful display of colour, your favourite sight by far. When Jisung pulled into a parking space at the edge of the park you’d first gone to, it felt like you’d done a full loop. It felt horrible, because you knew you still loved that dumb boy and his stupid shy smile and heavy blush. You loved him with everything you had, and you had opened up to him, your first real friend and your first lover.

“You haven’t been yourself recently” Your voice wasn’t confident or happy like it usually was, it was cold and quiet, barely audible. Jisung heard it though, and his lips seemed to pull into a tight frown almost immediately.

“Haven’t I?” He wasn’t asking you, nor was he asking himself. You both already knew the answer, it’s just that neither of you wanted an answer as to why.

You took in a deep breath, the heavy atmosphere becoming more and more choking as you gathered your words.

“Jisung,” It sounded foreign to both of you, seeing as you always called him Ji now, but he still hummed in acknowledgement, “If you’ve fallen out of love please just tell me, don’t make me keep loving you if this is going nowhere”

Jisung sighed, his breathing unsteady and light. “I haven’t fallen out of love, Y/n” He turned in his seat so he could look at you, hand on your knee as he spoke. “I still love you, I just,”

Jisung stopped, unsure of how to say what was on his mind. “I just love her too”

Five little words, just five little words that sent your heart plummeting. Who was she? Why was she so much more than you that he could lose his affections so quickly?

“Take me home” Your tone was uncharacteristically cold, sending goose bumps along the boy’s arms as he moved to start the car. He didn’t have a right to refuse your request, not after what he had said.

The ride was sickeningly quiet, the sound of the engine spluttering along the empty road as you neared your house. You had never been so glad to see the familiar neighbourhood. It was then Jisung tried to speak up, but nothing he could say would change your mind. You weren’t okay with being loved by someone who loved another, nor could you love someone who loved another. The second he spoke those words into existence it was over, you both knew that.

“Just, just hear me out” Jisung’s tone was desperate but it fell on deaf ears.

“Give me one single fucking reason I should” Jisung opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Nothing seemed like a reasonable reason, so when he pulled up next to your house he desperately flicked the locks, wanting just a second more.

“Just please don’t lock yourself in your room” You scoffed, unlocking your door and swinging it open as you spoke.

“Don’t act like you care. You don’t care, nobody cares” You stood up, not look back at Jisung as you muttered your last few words for him to hear. “Just leave”

You walked back inside, the hot tears trailing down your freezing cheeks as you curled up in your bed, still clothed and hopeless. Jisung’s car was still outside. It took about ten minutes for you to hear the engine roar to life and him drive off, but you didn’t want to think why.

Monday rolled around way too quickly, and you were not the least bit excited to see the boy that simultaneously held your heart in one hand and another girls in his other. Sure enough, there she was. You knew her, and you suddenly knew why he chose her over you. They were a far better match, but never the less the pain only multiplied no matter how much you tried to avoid it.

In the end all you could do was forget. Forget the late night talks and the sparks of joy he gave you. Forget the newfound friendships and the progress you had made in yourself. You were right in the beginning after all, opening up to people will only get you hurt in the end.

All you could do was forget Park Jisung, because the memories cut like knives.

[takerfoxx]

IM Swiftly Descending Darkness, Chapter 3

As it turned out, there was more than a simple fight going on. It was an all-out brawl, one consisting of mostly children.

A ring had been cleared in the crowd, and in it was a confusion of bodies, all of them rolling about in a flurry of blows and holds. There seemed to be around seven kids involved, three of which were wearing the grey Children’s Home uniforms. Rumia identified Noba, Tomohiro, and Shinji, who were among the eldest of the children. The other four, who looked to be nearly almost men, were probably from one of the nearby villages. In the thick of it was Miss Haruhi, who was desperately trying to get them to separate while she yelled for help to no avail.

All around them several things seemed to be happening all at once. In the innermost ring of onlookers the rest of the other orphans were gathered. Chubby Keiichi was sitting with Yoshi and Hiro standing on either side, a dazed look on his face and his nose a bloody mess. Haruko, Hayate, and Eiko were frantically running about screaming at everyone to stop, while Kazuchika was holding little Akito in his arms, anxiously trying to comfort the wailing child. As for the two remaining boys, Dai and Yuuki, they weren’t anywhere to be seen.

And around them were the market-goers. It took Rumia less than a second to gauge that none of them were going to be any help. Some of them looked distressed, and many of them were calling out for everyone to stop fighting. But most were hanging back, unwilling to get involved, while still others were laughing, a few even shouting encouragement.

Rumia felt her cheeks grow hot. So many grown-ups around, and the only one actually doing anything was Miss Haruhi.

Well, at least they had brought Mister Joshua and Miss Mokou, who were also on the very short list of useful grown-ups. If anyone could stop this, they could.

Then several things happened in very quick succession.

First of all, despite the brawling orphans being outnumbered, three more local kids, all of them older and bigger than even Noba, pushed their way through the crowd and ran into the fray.

The second was Miss Haruhi hastily trying to put herself between the newcomers and the fighters. She held her hands out as she begged them to not join the fight.

The third was one of the newcomers contemptuously smacking her across the cheek and sending her reeling. He then grabbed Shinji by the hair, hauled him up, and punched him squarely in the face.

The fourth was caused by the third. Watching someone as nice as Miss Haruhi get roughed up like that killed any inhibitions that the rest of the orphans might have had, and the dam broke.

Haruko, Hayate, and Eiko were the closest, so they set upon the new roughnecks with reckless abandon, punching and clawing at them despite being totally outmatched. Rumia even saw Eiko trying to bite the one that had hit Miss Haruhi in the arm.

Yoshi and Hiro were next. Despite only being eight and ten years old respectively, they left Keiichi and ran in as well, kicking shins and punching groins, or attempting to at least, which got Yoshi an elbow to the nose for his effort.

Then wonder of wonders, Keiichi himself got up and tried to join the fight. He didn’t make a very impressing showing of it. In fact, it mainly consisting of him getting up, waddling over to the boy still tangled up with Tomohiro, and pounding ineffectively on the boy’s back with his fists. In the end, Kazuchika was the only one not joining in, and that was because he had his hands full with Akito.

Unfortunately, there was nothing stopping the rest of the locals from jumping in as well.

Rumia saw several young men make toward the fray with purposeful strides and dark looks. A few were stopped by their neighbors, but not all. It wouldn’t be long before the other orphans were outnumbered.

Well, screw that!

Without waiting for any kind of context as to what had kicked the whole thing off, Rumia bolted forward. She pushed her way through the crowd, zeroing in on the first combatant she could find not wearing a grey uniform. She didn’t need to look to see if her friends were with her; she didn’t need to. They simply were.

She managed to break through the crowd into the fight circle. Then she sprinted toward a boy a few years older than herself who was wearing a green outfit and fist fighting with Shinji. She leapt right onto his back and snarled while raining down blows onto his neck.

He lurched back in surprise, allowing Shinji to catch him with a solid jab into his stomach. A moment later Kohta appeared, tackling his knee from behind and driving him down.

It was a nicely coordinated attack, but unfortunately their numbers advantage did not last, as several other bodies converged on them. A hand grabbed Rumia by the hair and pulled hard. She felt herself being hauled into the air, but before she was, she lunged forward one last time and snapped her teeth. Her mouth filled with the green-clad boy’s ear, and he cried out in pain.

A moment later Rumia was facedown in the dust while some asshole kicked her in the ribs. She gasped in pain, and tried to turned away from the blows.

“Get away from her!” she heard Kohta yell. This was followed by the meaty sound of a punch connecting with flesh. Rumia hoped that it was his hand doing the punching.

Unfortunately, the opposite proved true, and a moment later Kohta was lying next to her. The two locked eyes for just a second, and then they grabbed one another and tried to keep each other’s heads shielded as the kicking resumed in earnest.

It occurred to Rumia then that she might actually die, and not at the hands of any youkai or other kind of monster, but beaten to death by her fellow Humans. And the worst of it all was that she didn’t even know why things had broken down like they did. She had just seen her family in danger, and had run to help, and now it might cost her and Kohta their lives.

That sucked.

But before they had taken more than three blows, there came another sound of knuckles slamming into flesh. Then there was a loud crack, and an unfamiliar male voice cried out in pain.

A moment later the one that had done most of the kicking was simply gone, though Rumia could here someone warbling in fear as…was he flying away? Or had he been thrown?

Despite having picked up several new bruises, Rumia found herself grinning. She had figured out what had happened. Oh, those assholes were in trouble now!

She eased herself onto her back, expecting to find Miss Mokou standing over them like a spirit of vengeance.

She…wasn’t.

But Keine was.

Keine was there, all two-thirds of a meter of her, spindly little legs splayed, tiny little fists clenched and trembling. Though she was seething with rage, she also looked a little shocked at what she had done.

But she wasn’t backing down.

Rumia was quite impressed, but she was also sort of dismayed. There was something deeply gratifying about watching her scrawny little friend sending all of their assailants running, but Keine was also blowing the big secret that the three of them had worked so hard to hide, not only from those outside the orphanage, but within as well.

And judging by how Keine’s face was quickly changing from angry pink to horrified white, she had also figured out the danger she was in.

Fortunately, that was when Miss Mokou finally joined the fray.

If anyone had noticed that the tiny little girl was hitting harder than she ought to, it was immediately forgotten when the strange woman wearing strange clothes suddenly touched down in the middle of the violence. The three boys teaming up on Noba found themselves swept aside when a leg swung around into each of their faces. The four girls that were kicking Haruko, Eiko, and Hayate into submission were abruptly launched into the air in four different directions. Two men that had apparently decided to grab onto Yoshi and Hiro found themselves the ones grabbed onto as a hand suddenly seized each of them by the hair and slammed their skulls together.

This all takes time to explain, but the fact of the matter is that within mere seconds the entire circle was cleared of anyone not from the Children’s Home, leaving nothing but the orphans, a dazed Miss Haruhi, and an absolutely enraged Miss Mokou.

All expect for one.

One of the boys that had been fighting Noba at the beginning had found himself with a hand wrapped around his throat, a hand with fingers more unrelenting than steel shackles attached to an arm harder than an oak beam, an arm that was hoisting him into the air with his legs dangling and forcing him to stare terrified down at a pair of eyes that seemed to be made of raging hellfire.

Several of the young men that had been hurled from the fight had collected themselves and were now readying themselves to come to their friend’s defense. Apparently sensing this, Miss Mokou’s head snapped around to turn her death glare at them, stopping them in their tracks.

“Try it,” she growled. “See what happens.”

Mokou was a tall woman, sure, but she wasn’t that much taller than any of them, and she didn’t seem to be particularly muscular. At a glance, one that did not know better might assume that with the benefit of surprise gone, it would be an easy task to overwhelm her and beat her down.

Rumia absolutely knew better. And she really, really wanted to see what happens.

Unfortunately, the young men probably sensed what a colossal error that would be, and took a few steps back.

Damn.

That done, Miss Mokou returned her attention to her hostage. “So, you’re the one that started this, right?” she said. “Aren’t you?”

“Let him go, you animal!” some lady yelled. She was ignored.

“Please!” the boy cried. “I’m sorry! Don’t hurt me!”

“Sorry? Sorry for what? What did you do?”

“I didn’t mean it! I was just playing!”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“Mokou, stop!”

Miss Mokou paused, but she didn’t let the boy go. The crowd parted, and Miss Satoko appeared, accompanied by the previously absent Dai and Yuuki, who apparently had gone to find her when the fighting had started.

Miss Satoko looked more frantic and distraught than any time Rumia had seen her. Her face was pink, her mouth gaping open, her hat was gone, and she was grabbing at her own hair with both hands.

“What…what are you doing?” she sputtered as she took in the scene. “How…what…what happened here?”

“What happened?” said some guy that Rumia didn’t recognize. “I’ll tell you what happened! Your little devils assaulted our boys, that’s what happened!”

“That’s not true!” Tomohiro shouted. He looked pretty roughed up, with both of his eyes blackened, his uniform torn and dirty, a darkening purple bruise on his cheek, and scratches all over his neck. However, of the original group of brawlers, he had come off better than Shinji or Noba. “They’re the ones who started it!”

“Shut your mouth, you little savage!” said some woman, who looked like she was the mother of one of the local boys, if the way she was cradling her arms around him was any indication. “We all know this was your doing!”

“It was not!”

“Lies! We all know what your kind is like!”

Tomohiro stared at her in complete befuddlement. “What do you mean, my kind? We’re all Human!”

“Are you? Are you really?”

“You know, we can clear this up right now,” Miss Mokou said. She gave the boy she was still holding aloft a slight shake. “So, how about it, buddy? How’d this all get started?”

The boy still looked terrified of her, and who could blame him? But seeing that one woman speak up on his behalf seemed to have given him enough courage to hold his tongue, which was really stupid as far as Rumia was concerned. If Miss Mokou decided to snap his neck, then she could probably do it long before anyone got close enough to save him.

Since he wasn’t talking and Noba still looked completely out of it, Shinji spoke up. “We were just talking, then they all got right into our faces and wouldn’t leave,” he said, slurring his words slightly through swollen lips. “They said…they said…”

“Nothing!” Miss Mokou’s captive suddenly shouted. “We didn’t say anything to them!”

“You did! You asked if Noba cried when his mom and dad got eaten! You said that you bet that he helped them eat them, that he’s probably half youkai already! You said that we’re only here to see who’s the fattest to eat later!”

“I was just joking!” wailed the culprit.

“Thought you said that you didn’t say anything,” Miss Mokou pointed out.

“Then when we tried to walk away, they just grabbed us and pulled us back!” Shinji continued. “They said that they’re not gonna let us take anyone, that we shoulda gotten eaten with our families!”

“Oh?” Miss Mokou said. “Then that’s when you punched them?”

“No! We just pushed them away, and they pushed us back!”

“You liar!” the boy yelled!

“He did!” Haruko broke in. “We heard them! Then when they saw us, they said…” She shivered. “They said that we should go with them, that they wanted to see how wild the youkai had made us!”

Miss Satoko looked like she was going to be ill.

“Oh, is that right?” Miss Mokou said, her gaze traveling up to her squirming captive with deadly purpose.

“Mokou, don’t,” Miss Satoko whispered.

Then someone called out from the crowd, “Yeah, let him go!”

“He didn’t mean any harm! What, can’t you youkai lovers take a joke?”

Miss Mokou’s gaze slipped from her captive to the crowd. “A joke.”

“A joke?” Mister Joshua sputtered. “You call something like that a joke?”

“Hell yeah! Boys will be boys, you know. That’s no reason to punch anyone!”

Rumia suddenly found herself wishing that she really was youkai-cursed or at the very least half-youkai like Keine. Then she might have been able to make . Then she might be able to wipe a few smirks off the faces she saw.

“Boys will be boys?!” Mister Joshua repeated, aghast. “Listen to yourself, man! That’s horrific! What kind of boys are you raising?”

“You’re the ones with one of ours by the throat!” came the reply.

“You wanna replace him?” Miss Mokou said.

The guy in question, a middle-aged man with a big chest, big arms, and an even bigger beard shoved his way to the front of the crowd. “Try me, bitch.”

“Mokou, please,” Miss Satoko begged. “Don’t.”

Miss Mokou didn’t so much as glance at her. “Okay,” she said. She opened her hand, and the boy dropped. He looked around in bewilderment, and then fled as fast as his feet could take him.

“All right, asshole,” Miss Mokou said as she strode toward the big man as Miss Satoko ineffectively grabbed at her arm. She didn’t even slow Miss Mokou down. “Your wish is my command. I’ll try you right-”

“ENOUGH OF THIS MADNESS!”

The new voice was loud, but kind of squeaky and cracked a bit in the middle. Still, it brought everything to an abrupt stop.

Four tough looking men were shoving their way through the crowd, making a path as they went. And between them was some short, fat guy with a big hat. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

Rumia frowned. “Who’s that?” she said.

“Seriously?” Kohta whispered back. “That’s Master Sonozika, the Human Leader!”

“Oh.”

Keine winced. “Shit,” she muttered.

Master Sonozika hadn’t had to have walked far to reach the center of the commotion, but judging by the way he was heaving and gasping one might have thought he had just ran a marathon. “Satoko Yume, this is an outrage! Is this how you mean to convince me to allow your little monsters into the Human Village? They can’t go five minutes without attacking somebody!”

Rumia bristled, and she wasn’t the only one. “What did he call us?” she hissed.

“Steady,” Keine said.

“Master Sonozika, I know thing got out of hand, but the orphans didn’t start it,” Miss Satoko protested.

“That’s right,” said Miss Haruhi, speaking for the first time. She still looked kind of rocked by the blow she had taken, but she was up and talking at least. “A group of boys deliberately picked a fight with us! They insulted their dead families, and made sexual passes at some of the girls!”

“And for that you attack us!” Master Sonozika screeched.

“They were provoked!”

“They’re just words! Get over it!”

“Words, huh?” Miss Mokou said. “Disparaging children’s dead parents is just words now, are they? Threatening to rape little girls are just words? So hey, if I were to say that you look like what you get if a syphilis-ridden toad fucked a wad of pig fat, would that just be words?”

Now that Miss Mokou mentioned it, the resemblance was kind of uncanny. Rumia giggled a bit in spite of herself. So did Haruko. The two glanced at each other, instinctively resistant to sharing any kind of comradery, but then they both remembered that for now at least they were on the same side, so they both laughed again.

Master Sonozika, however, did not find it quite so humorous. “How…how dare you, you disrespectful harlot! Don’t you know who I am?”

“Mokou, do not,” Miss Satoko said.

Again she was ignored. “Sure, Sonozika. That snout is unmistakable. Runs in the family.” Miss Mokou glanced down at Master Sonozika’s jiggling belly. “Among…other things.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Eh, who cares?” Miss Mokou said with a shrug. “I mean, they’re just words, right?”

Mister Joshua tugged on her sleeve. “Mokou, this isn’t helping. You should stop.” Again, he was ignored.

Master Sonozika gnashed his teeth. “Hold your tongue, woman. Or I’ll have it cut out.”

“That I would like to see. Hey, you know what?” Miss Mokou walked right up to him. He went pale and retreated a few step, while his guard immediately stepped between him and Miss Mokou, their hands on the hilts of their swords.

However, Miss Mokou wasn’t going to attack him. Quite the opposite, really. “If you want to, I’ll give you one free shot,” she said, leaning over and turning her head to offer her cheek. “Come on, Fatty. You know you want it.”

“Mokou, what are you doing?” Miss Haruhi screamed.

“Don’t do this!” Mister Joshua agreed.

Master Sonozika was practically steaming with fury and embarrassment, but didn’t take the bait, but then, he didn’t have to. He merely shot a glare at one of his guards, who stepped forward to do it for him.

“No!” Miss Satoko yelled.

The guard was of the same height as Miss Mokou, and considerably more heavily muscled. Plus, he was wearing leather armor over his arms and the back of his hands that was studded with iron balls. He slammed the back of his hand right across her face with enough force to shatter bone.

Rumia winced. Kohta gasped. Keine covered her eyes.

But Miss Mokou didn’t fall under the blow. In fact, she didn’t give at all. The hand hit her cheek…and just stopped, the iron balls digging into her skin but not breaking it. She didn’t even have to shift her balance.

Instead, she just remained crouched as her dark maroon eyes rolled around up to lock gazes with the stupefied guard. She smiled. “Okay,” she said as she straightened up. “I guess that clears up a thing or-”

“That will be quite enough.”

This time, the new voice wasn’t nearly as loud or as frantic as Master Sonozika’s had been, but it cut through the crowd just the same. The locals started murmuring to one another, and many quickly moved out of the way of the newcomer of their own accord as he strode into the din.

It was Mister Joshua’s not-friend, the tall weird guy dressed in brown. He was walking forward with less speed but considerably more confidence than Master Sonozika had, both hands wrapped around that t-shaped thing on his necklace.

“Friends, friends, what is this?” he said. “Why are we fighting like children? Come on, you’re better than this.”

Then he glanced at Miss Mokou, and his brow furrowed behind his stupid dark glasses. “Well, some of us anyway.”

“Okay, yeah, I do not care for you,” Miss Mokou said.

“Feeling’s mutual.” Then he looked over to Master Sonozika, who looked quite realized at his arrival. “Gendou, Gendou, Gendou, what is all this? I knew things outside of the Human Village were…rough, but not an hour after our arrival and things devolve into a brawl!”

Master Sonozika sighed. “Well, Skinner, that’s the thing. It seems that some of the local children were set upon by these!” He motioned toward the orphans and their caretakers, all of which were still in the circle and surrounded on by all sides.

“We did not!” Tomohiro shouted as he came forward. “They’re the ones who-”

The man identified as “Skinner” suddenly thrust a glove-covered palm into Tomohiro’s face. “Do not interrupt your elders, son,” he chided.

Tomohiro stumbled back. “I’m not your son! And your hand stinks!”

Skinner’s head jerked back as if he had been physically struck. He looked down at his hand, as if he were contemplating taking a swing of his own at Tomohiro’s face.

Noticing this, Miss Mokou sidled up between him and Tomohiro. “Yeah, don’t,” she said flatly.

Skinner’s hand flexed into a fist, uncurled, and flexed again. Despite his earlier calmness, he looked like he was about to fly into a rage of his own and kick up the brawl all over again. To be honest, now that Miss Mokou was here, Rumia kind of hoped that he would.

But then he relaxed, and reached up to clasp both hands over his necklace again. “Brother Joshua, I am again disappointed,” he said as he stepped around Miss Mokou to turn toward Mister Joshua. “I knew that your time spent with this type had been bad for you, but I didn’t know how bad. Violent youths, disrespectful women, and-”

Suddenly he stopped. And he stared. Not as Mister Joshua, but past him.

To where Rumia, Kohta, and Keine were standing.

“I could say the same,” Mister Joshua said. “I can already see what great things you’re teaching the people here, the good news you’re spreading. Fear, superstition, and lies. Very Christlike indeed.”

Skinner didn’t answer. He just kept staring in a way that made Rumia’s skin crawl.

So she spread her hands, glowered back, and mouthed, What?

Skinner tilted his head, but it didn’t seem to be in response to Rumia.

It was then that Rumia realized that he wasn’t looking at her. Close to, but not quite. Rather, he was looking at Keine.

Rumia felt cold ice sweep down her spine. He knew. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did.

Gritting her teeth behind her grimace, Rumia held her defiant stance, refusing to back down.

“Nathaniel?” Mister Joshua said.

Skinner didn’t move.

Mister Joshua glanced over his shoulder at the trio, scowled, and positioned himself right in front of Skinner. It wasn’t an impressive sight, as the top of his head only came up to the taller man’s chest, but he was doing what he could. “Nathaniel! Stop looking at them and look at me.”

“Better do what he says, Skinny,” Miss Mokou said. She laid a firm hand on Skinner’s shoulder.

Skinner reacted immediately to the touch, wrenching his shoulder away and seizing her by the wrist.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” he seethed. “Don’t you dare…”

He tried to hurl her to one side, but when he yanked on her arm, she merely clenched up her muscles and stayed where he was.

Frowning, Skinner tried again. Miss Mokou’s arm barely moved.

“You finished?” she drawled.

“Hmmm.” Skinner released her wrist. “You are…surprisingly strong.”

“I work out.”

“So I see.” Then he brushed himself off and backed away from her. “Regardless, this little spat is pointless. The main source of conflict is the riot.”

“Fight,” Miss Mokou corrected. “It was a fight.” She tilted her head toward the original group that had been brawling with Noba, Shinji, and Tomohiro. “Those boys over there tried to provoke some of ours, and it worked. Things escalated.”

“Thanks to you, I presume.”

“Nah. I got here just in time to see a whole bunch of grown-ass men surrounding a bunch of boys beating up on a bunch of orphans and doing nothing to break it up. They didn’t even try to stop the young girls that were trying to stop it from getting hit. It wasn’t until the rest of our kids ran in to help their friends that anyone decided to do something.” She swept her eyes past Skinner and over the crowd. “Mainly by rushing in to beat up a bunch of kids. So I put a stop to it.”

Rumia suddenly found herself very glad that she and her friends had dishes duty for the rest of the week, because as far as she was concerned, Miss Mokou was now officially the coolest person in the world and she wanted to hang out with her as much as possible.

In fact, her words of shame were having an effect. As Rumia looked around, she saw more than one previously angry face now start to wilt, a few even looking away. Ha! Take that!

“Really?” Skinner said. “All by yourself?”

“Pretty much, yeah. So, you gonna continue this little interrogation, or can we move on? Because obviously you’re the one in charge here.”

“Ah, h-h-hold on a moment!” Master Sonozika suddenly sputtered. “Now, Nathaniel Skinner is a dear friend and a highly valuable advisor, but let’s not presume!”

“Then why is he doing all the talking then?” Miss Mokou turned to the rest of the crowd. “What about you guys, huh? Does the turd-coat here speak for all of you too?”

There was a pause, and then a woman called, “He’s with the Leader!”

“So?” someone else countered. “I’ve never seen him before.”

“Yeah, who is he, anyway?”

“Shut your mouth, you backwaters!” called a well-dressed man that obviously came from the Village. “That’s Brother Nathaniel Skinner, a man of very high reputation!”

“Reputation for what? Dressing like a pile of horse shit?”

Everyone laughed at that. The spell Skinner had had over the crowd was fading.

Skinner noticed, but he kept his cool. Rather than retort, he merely cleared his throat and walked over to Master Sonozika. Leaning over, he whispered into the stout man’s ear.

Master Sonozika seemed surprised. He whispered something back, and Skinner responded. Master Sonozika nodded.

“All right, I think we’ve heard enough,” Master Sonozika said. “Regardless of whoever started it, things clearly have gotten out of hand. But even so, children will fight. So, let us all put this business behind us and go on with our lives. Mistress Yume, I trust you will discipline the children you claim to care for and try to rein in their wild impulses?”

Miss Satoko went white with indignation. “Wait, they were the ones who-”

“Good! For now, you should take them home. We wouldn’t want another, ahem, incident now, would we?”

Miss Satoko looked like she was going to argue the point further, but then Miss Mokou tapped her on the shoulder. Miss Satoko looked at her in confusion. In response, Miss Mokou just shook her head.

Taking the message, Miss Satoko said, “All right. Children, two lines please. Mokou, could you please help Noba? Haruhi, keep close to me. Joshua, bring up the rear.”

The family slowly and in some cases painfully gathered together. Those who needed help walking got it, and the youngest and those who were hurt worse were brought to the middle while the rest formed a shell around them.

The crowd opened up, and they filed walked out of the market. Rumia realized that her right leg was limping a little, but she refused to give in to it and walked as straight and steady as she could. As she did, she made sure to glower at each and every face she passed. In some cases the glower was returned, but in most people refused to meet her eyes. Good. They ought to be ashamed.

Then she glanced the other way, toward her family. Haruko, Eiko, and Hayate were walking close to her. She caught Haruko’s eye for just a moment.

A beat passed, and then Haruko gave her the slightest of nods and glanced away. The message was clear. They were still enemies, but in this specific case, they were enemies on the same side, and Rumia would be glad to fight side-by-side with a stupid cow like Haruko any day if it meant standing up to all those assholes.

Finally they passed over a hill and were fully out of sight of the market. When that happened, everyone relaxed just a little. Straightened shoulders slumped, heads that were held up high dropped, and those in pain allowed themselves to show it. Still, nobody said anything, though some of the younger ones were crying a little, as was Miss Haruhi.

Rumia couldn’t blame them. She was hurting. It wasn’t that bad, and she had been hurt worse in the past through various accidents and mishaps, but there was a difference between falling out of a tree or getting into a fistfight with Shinji because she had caught him cheating at Mahjong and being outright assaulted like that!

…okay, fine, she had technically been the one doing the assaulting, but that was just because her family had been assaulted first, or at least she was pretty sure they had been. Regardless, getting thrown to the ground and kicked at by complete strangers was something that she was still struggling to process.

Kohta had taken worse. One eye was swollen up, and he was limping even worse than she was. Keine was between them, providing support with both of their arms thrown across her shoulders. Under normal circumstances, Rumia’s pride would have dissuaded her from accepting that much help, but today she just took it without complaining. Or at least, she had waited until they were out of sight of the market before accepting it. Her pride was still there, but she was now a bit more specific about who she was allowing herself to appear weak in front of. And after everything they had endured together, the rest of her family got a one-day pass.

The rest of the kids were in various stages of beaten up. Noba had taken the worse; in fact he was barely conscious. Miss Mokou had his arm over her shoulder while she held onto his waist. Rumia was fairly certain that she could have thrown him over her shoulder if she wanted, but he would have been mortified to have been carried away like that, and Miss Mokou was the sort to know that. Shinji and Tomohiro were pretty bad off as well. They were walking under their own power, but Shinji’s face was still a bloody, swollen mess, while Tomohiro had two black eyes and was cradling his left arm. And while Keichii had to stop every few steps to spit out blood.

Yoshi and Hiro had taken a few hits, with Yoshi having a very prominent purple lump on his forehead. Still, they seemed okay overall, and judging by the way they were swaggering, they were probably proud of the hits they had taken and given, the little savages. Rumia had to smile. They had earned that right as far as she was concerned.

As for the others, specifically Melissa, Kana, Kazuchika, Akito, Dai, and Yuuki, they hadn’t been hurt on account of having not joined in for various reasons, but that didn’t mean they were all right. Melissa looked absolutely mortified. Since she hadn’t been born in Gensokyo like the others, there was a lot she was still getting used to, and while she found most of it to be wonderful, the darker parts tended to scare her, and Rumia was willing to bet that she had never expected the worse to come from other Humans. Hell, Rumia herself hadn’t expected that. Maybe her family hadn’t been killed by youkai after all. Maybe it had been a bunch of assholes like the ones back there, and they had just blamed it on youkai.

Kazuchika seemed to be in a daze. He was holding onto Akito while leading Dai and Yuuki along. As the older kid who most often looked after the younger ones, he was probably really messed up over Yoshi and Hiro getting hurt. And as for Kana…

Kana looked…weird. Well, okay, she always looked weird, but unlike the others she didn’t look scared, sad, betrayed, angry, or even proud. Instead, she was thoughtfully staring at the sky with a sort of seriousness she usually reserved for staring at dust motes, and she was fingerings with something in her pocket, probably a trinket she had picked up in the chaos. Hopefully it wasn’t something someone would coming looking for. That was the last thing they needed.

All in all, they were a sorry bunch, but they had survived. And Rumia was glad that they had fought back instead of running away. She smirked, though doing so upset one of her bruises. Life had done them no favors, but it sure had made them tough.

They continued on, Miss Satoko in the lead, Mister Joshua in the back, beginning what promised to be a long and painful walk home.

But then they heard someone call out to them. “Hey! Satoko Yume! Wait a moment!”

Everyone immediately tensed up in anticipation of another attack, but it wasn’t an angry mob coming after them, it was only three men flying their way. Rumia quickly scanned them. She didn’t remember seeing them in the fight, but that could swiftly change.

The one that had called to them was the oldest and biggest, a big man with a barrel-sized chest, large arms, a wide face, and a thin beard. He touched and the other two touched down in front of the group.

“Watanabe?” Miss Satoko said.

Watanabe nodded. “Look. I don’t know what happened back there or why, but…” He sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to help. We were heading home we heard the shouting, and when we got back everything was so confusing and-”

“Watanabe, it’s fine,” Miss Satoko said. “And it’s somewhat heartening to hear that not everyone approved of what happened back there.”

Watanabe scowled. “It’s that man Skinner. Ever since he and his kind showed up, people in the big village have just been getting strange. And it’s spreading.”

Rumia glanced over her shoulder at Mister Joshua, who sort of fell in the category of “his kind.” For his part, Mister Joshua didn’t react in one way or the other.

“Well, he certainly helped, but the rest of them are still responsible for their actions,” Miss Satoko said.

“Yes, I don’t know what’s happening. But let me help make it up to you.” Watanabe pointed. “My farm’s not far. Please, rest a while, see to your injuries, get something to eat.”

Miss Satoko hesitated. “Watanabe, I don’t-”

“Your children are hurt, and people I count among my friends are to blame. Let me do this much for you.”

“Well…” Miss Satoko looked back toward the group. Most of the kids were too tired to really make much of a response, but nobody objected.

“All right,” she sighed. “That would be very much appreciated. Thank you.”

Honestly Rumia really just wanted to go home, but making the trip on her aching leg did not sound fun, and there were others worse off than she was. And if Miss Satoko trusted this guy, then fine.

The group changed direction, moving off the path and across the field. As they went, Rumia was struck by a sudden thought, something that had gone amiss through the whole brawl, something that nobody else had pointed out.

With everything that had been going on, what had happened to their guards?

…

Watanabe Umino’s farm wasn’t far from either the market nor the orphanage, so it made for a convenient waypoint between the two. Rumia had seen it several times in trips past, though she had never actually set foot on its borders. But today seemed an excellent day to break that trend.

Finally everyone was seated in a circle. Missus Umino and all the Umino kids brought out warm cider for everyone. Rumia accepted hers with a nod of thanks and cautiously gave it a sip. It was good.

Mister Joshua and Miss Haruhi were both sitting at the head of the circle, whispering to one another. Miss Haruhi had stopped crying, but she still looked pretty upset, while Mister Joshua mostly looked deeply disturbed, like he knew something about what had happened that the rest of them didn’t. Rumia really hoped that he was going to spill, and if he didn’t, she made a point to ask him directly.

Just…not now.

As for Miss Satoko and Miss Mokou, they were still outside, talking to one another. Rumia couldn’t make out what they were saying, but judging by how animated they looked through the door, it was probably very…dramatic. Rumia really hoped that Miss Mokou wasn’t going to get into trouble. If there was one bright spot of this whole disastrous day, it was watching her be a total badass.

Suddenly Mister Joshua cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

“I want everyone to understand something here,” he said. “No matter what any of those people said back there, no matter what anyone might say about you in the future, this wasn’t your fault. Okay? We all understand that?”

“Yes, Mister Joshua,” said most of the younger kids. Some of the older ones just nodded. A few did nothing at all.

“And don’t listen to that garbage about curses or taints or something like that. That’s just fools talking. There is absolutely nothing wrong with any of you, no matter what they say.”

“But…” Eiko started to say, but then her voice caught. She swallowed, and tried again. “But why are they saying that at all? Why do they think that?”

Mister Joshua hesitated, and then said, “Because they’re afraid. They’re afraid and they’re stupid. As wrong as it sounds, people sometimes become afraid of other people’s problems, because they think that it’ll spread to them. So they’re somehow become convinced that just because most of you lost your families to youkai, it means that youkai are more likely to attack you and anyone that talks to you, or some such nonsense. But it is nonsense, understand?”

“But my parents didn’t get eaten by youkai,” Dai said. “They died in a landslide!”

“And mine got burned in a fire!” Hayate added.

Keine said nothing, but her fingers clenched up. Rumia quickly glanced around. Good, nobody was looking at her. Her secret was still safe. Hopefully.

“Like I said, it’s complete stupidity,” Mister Joshua said. “When people get a little scared, it doesn’t take much to get them to listen to stupid ideas.”

Maybe so, but Rumia was more worried about something else, something very dangerous and very real.

She glanced over to Keine, who was staring off at nothing. Rumia still remembered how Skinner had stared at her, like he was able to see deep into her heart and mind. And that was a problem.

As it so happened, Keine was the only child that wasn’t actually an orphan, not entirely. Her mother had died giving birth to her, but presumably her father, if he could be called that, was still out there somewhere, and he had been a youkai. That was why she looked half as old as she really was. Youkai lived forever, and when they had kids with Humans, their offspring’s lifespans were twice as long as those fully Human. And that was why she was so strong and fast despite being so small and skinny.

Of all the kids that Rumia lived with, only she and Kohta knew Keine’s secret, and they had long swore to keep it safe. They knew that Keine’s conception had been…less than consensual, and there were those that would consider that alone to mean she had been born evil, to say nothing of having youkai blood. It was all bullshit of course. Keine was Rumia’s friend, and she was easily the least monstrous of their little trio, but like Mister Joshua had said all it took was a little fear for people to start being stupid and dangerous.

As for the grown-ups, well, Miss Satoko presumably knew, though she had never mentioned it, and if she had told the others Rumia had never heard. And Miss Mokou had figured it out literally the second she saw Keine, but like Rumia and Kohta she had also sworn to never tell anyone.

But that man Skinner had also figured it out. Rumia didn’t know how, but he had. And that scared her.

…

If the whole of Mokou’s life were to be laid out in a book, then the story would be dark, bloody, unceasingly violent, and take up an entire library. As such, the two years in which she had lived in the Aoki Yume’s Children’s Home and known Satoko Yume would be contained in only a few short sentences, a barely perceptible drop of happiness in an ocean of pain and hate.

And yet it somehow felt so much longer than it was. Suddenly, her life had gone from having just enough room for herself and one other person in it to having over twenty, and unlike that one other person, they were people she actually cared about rather than wished to murder violently and often. She had gotten to know these kids and their vibrant personalities, from their quirks to their preferences to their aspirations to their petty little rivalries to their intense friendships. Those little people were just so strangely fascinating, at once simple and uncomplicated and yet full of depth, and Mokou had thoroughly enjoyed getting to know them, even if she had done so rather quickly. She had always been a fast learner, after all.

And she knew Satoko. She could read the younger woman’s emotions like a book, could tell at a glance how she was feeling and why. And at that moment, Satoko was very, very angry.

Satoko didn’t often get angry. She had spent her entire life looking after children who had every reason to act out, and as such her well of patience, tolerance, and understanding seemed to be bottomless at times. However, there was a very specific list of situations that set her off. Apparently, Mokou had triggered several of them.

“How could you, Mokou?” Satoko said as she anxiously paced back and forth, her hands unceasingly wringing each other. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What you’ve done to us, to me, to them?”

“Sure,” Mokou said, unperturbed. “I stopped our kids from getting beaten to death.”

“You were going to kill that boy!”

“No, not kill, not even hurt. Just scare him a little.”

“Scare? You wanted to scare him?” Satoko let out a bitter chuckle. “I’ll say you did. Right there, in front of his family, his friends, his neighbors, in front of godsdamned everyone! You’ve gone and made us an enemy of everybody!”

Mokou folded her arms. “I’d say that already happened. You saw how everybody was treating us when we got there.”

“Not everybody! Some, yes, but not everybody! But oh, they sure are now!” Satoko stopped pacing, though her hands didn’t stop twisting against each other. “Mokou, I know you have a dark past, I know you’ve…done things that you don’t like talking about, and I’ve been content to leave things at that. I’ve left your secrets alone, and you have been nothing but a boon until now.”

Mokou quirked an eyebrow. “But?”

“But you promised me that your past wouldn’t put the children in danger! That was the one condition of letting you stay! The one condition!”

“And it hasn’t,” Mokou said. “This had nothing to do with that.”

“Hasn’t it?” Satoko laughed again. “Oh, sure, those people that tried to kill you haven’t shown up, but the person they had a quarrel with sure did! Admit it, Mokou. This wasn’t the first time you’ve had your hands around someone’s neck like that.”

That was true enough. Hell, it wasn’t even the hundredth. Maybe not even the thousandth. “No, it wasn’t. But I needed him to admit what he had done.”

“What he had done? It was a cruel comment, yes, but not deserving of strangling!”

“No? What about him perving at Haruko, Eiko, and Hayate? Besides, all most of those people saw was our kids fighting theirs, with no way of telling who started it.” She shrugged. “Well, now they do.”

“And what good did that do?” Satoko demanded. “They were looking for a fight, yes, but-”

“They were attacking our kids,” Mokou said again, making sure to emphasize the our. “They were even hitting Haruhi. Noba’s got a concussion, Shinji and Keiichi both have broken noses, and many more have black eyes, split lips, and more bruises than I care to count. Satoko, this wasn’t just a scuffle over some childish insult that got out of hand, this was an assault!”

“But-”

“No, listen to me. All those people wouldn’t have rushed to join in if they weren’t already ready to go off at the slightest excuse. Nobody other than Haruhi and the girls tried to break it up until I got there, and they were attacked for it. Satoko, something is wrong. Something is actively working to isolate us, to turn everyone against us. And I think I know what it is.”

At this, Satoko sighed. “So do I. It’s that man.”

Mokou tilted her head. “Nathaniel Skinner, right? That big tall bastard dressed mostly in brown?”

“That’s him.”

“Joshua said that he was from the Outside World too, that the two of them used to be friends.”

Satoko nodded. “Yes, I know. He and Joshua came over with a small group. They wandered into our land one night, and we gave them shelter. Most of them went to the Human Village after that, but Joshua came back. Said that his God would have wanted him to help us.”

“Oh yeah? Something tells me that he and that Skinner guy get very different messages from their God. And really, you put them up when they were lost and alone, and this is how they repay you?”

“I know, Mokou,” Satoko said wearily.

“Well, we should do something about him.”

“No!” Satoko looked horrified. “Are you insane? You can’t just kill someone!”

“I didn’t say kill him,” Mokou said, though to be perfectly honest she had been thinking that exact thing. In fact, if it came down to it, she was reasonably certain that she could get into the Human Village, conveniently “vanish” Skinner, dispose of all evidence, and get out again with nobody being the wiser. “I said do something about him.”

Satoko wasn’t buying it. “Mokou, do not. You’ve already made things bad enough already.”

“How? By saving the kids? If that would have gone on much longer, then someone could have died!”

“And I’m grateful for that, I really am! But you should have just driven them off and left it at that! But no, you had to hold one of them hostage and threaten his life in front of everyone!”

“So? He had it coming!”

Satoko stared at her. “Mokou, that doesn’t matter! Why do you think so many ran in once the other kids ran to their friends’ defense! It’s pack mentality at work! If you had just stuck to defending the children and prevented anyone else from attacking, then we could have sorted things out once everyone had calmed down. But you had to keep things hot and angry!”

“Sorted things out?” Mokou repeated in disbelief. “Satoko, what the hell? They attacked us! There is a line, and they crossed it! There’s no sorting anything after that!”

Satoko honestly looked like she wanted to slap Mokou. “Mokou, you’ve been with us for only two years. I’ve been doing this literally my entire life! Do you honestly think this is a first time one of ours got into a fight with some rowdy locals? Maybe not quite as bad as this, but it’s happened before! And when it does, you break it up, get everyone separated, and calm things down! Then you figure out who did what and who was responsible! But you…you just had to throw oil all over that fire and keep them angry! You gave them a reason to hate us! What are we supposed to do now? We’re already banned from the Human Village, and now you’ve turned the other settlements against us too?”

Mokou opened her mouth to retort, but Satoko wasn’t having it. “Think, Mokou! Think about it! Skinner’s been spreading his poison, telling people lies about us, getting them to hate orphans of all things, and you just confirmed it! You, a woman that none of them knew, just showed up out of nowhere and drove off several men twice your size! You held up a young man at least your own weight, if not heavier, with one hand and showed no signs of strain! You took that blow from Gendou’s guard without even upsetting your balance! You refused to be move by Skinner, someone who ought to have easily picked you up as if you were a child!”

“Well, now they know what they’re getting into if they mess with us again.”

“No, Mokou! You’re still not thinking! Skinner’s apparently been filling people’s heads with stories about us consorting with youkai and being tainted by them and probably getting strange and dangerous powers from them. And then you show up, doing what you did, challenging everyone to their face and demonstrating abilities that a woman of your size ought not to have! Even if most people think that Skinner’s stories are nonsense, you just gave them a reason to rethink that! Maybe, they’re wondering now, maybe there’s something to those stories! Maybe Skinner might have a point!”

Mokou frowned. When it was put like that, Satoko did have a point. Still… “So, what, I’m supposed to just bow my head and suck up to those idiots just because they’re afraid? I’m supposed to just stand aside and let them hurt our kids?”

“Of course not! I’m not upset about what you rescuing Noba and the others, I’m upset about what you did after! Tell the truth, Mokou. That wasn’t just about making a point. You were enjoying yourself.”

Mokou grimaced. It was true, she had enjoyed that burst of violence, brief as it had been. Two years were an incredibly insignificant amount of time to her, but she hadn’t gone that long without hurting another person in a long, long time. Breaking herself out of that cycle had given her nothing but relief, but part of her still craved it.

“That’s what scares me, Mokou,” Satoko said. “You know that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect the kids. But if you’re going to escalate things just…just for the fun of it, then I can’t have that. I can’t have you making yourself a danger.”

Mokou breathed in and out. “Well, maybe you have a point,” she admitted.

“I know.”

Shuffling her feet a little, Mokou put her hands in her pockets and said, “Look, if you want me to go then I’ll go. But right now, I don’t think that you should.”

Satoko sighed. “I know. Despite my…frustration, you did save them, and it would be…unbecoming of me to throw you out after that. Besides, what’s done is done, and if things are really getting that bad, then…then we might need someone like you.”

Now that was sort of scary to hear, and Mokou found herself wondering if Skinner might not accidentally have a point. Granted, all that business about being tainted by youkai was complete nonsense, but Mokou had been at the orphanage for only two years and already it was under the threat of…invasion? War? Maybe there was a curse at play. Maybe violence just followed her wherever she went.

“That’s…disturbing,” she said. “But we can deal with that when it comes. Right now though, we have another problem.”

“Oh?”

Mokou nodded toward the barn, where the kids were trying to recover. “Yeah. Them. They just had the fright of their lives. Even the ones that didn’t get hurt just saw what probably looked like all the Humans in Gensokyo turning on them. They’ve already lost their families, and now their own species is after them. They’re scared, they’re confused, and they’re angry.”

“I know that, Mokou.”

“Do you? Look, you know people better than I do, but I know fear better than you. Get mad at me for losing it if you must, but don’t show it in front of them. Because right now, we’re the only ones that seem like we’re on their side. We need to present a unified front, show them that we’re all working together to protect them.”

Satoko thought on that for a moment, and then nodded. “Okay, that makes sense. What else?”

Mokou frowned. “Well, prepare for the worst and hope for the best. Obviously this is going to come up again, and you’re going to try to work something out. But in the meantime…” She shrugged. “Look, I left my past life behind, sure, but I still, uh, know a few people, people who have their ears to the ground. In fact, just last night I was given a sort of head’s up from one of them.”

“What?”

“Look, I’m not saying it has anything to do with what happened, but I got word that some sort of shenanigans is brewing in the Youkai Forest. I don’t know anything in specific, but apparently the nasty things that live in there are up to something.”

Satoko looked incredulous. “Wait, are you saying that are problems really are youkai related, only…from them instead of us? You think youkai might be behind whatever Skinner and Sonozika are doing?”

“No clue. Might be a coincidence, but the timing’s suspect. Anyway, I’m thinking I should look up some old friends, see if they’ve heard anything.”

“Wait, what kind of friends?” Satoko said, alarmed.

“Well, the Hakurei Shrine Maiden for one. We’ve worked together a couple of times in the past. There’s also a hermit or two of my acquaintance, might go poking around the inhabitants of the Youkai Mountain as well. They don’t have much to do with the Youkai Forest despite having pretty much the same name, but they are nothing but relentless when it comes to sniffing out gossip. If anything’s up, they would have at least heard of it.” Mokou frowned. “In fact, that brawl back there will probably be making headlines on their papers tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Satoko said. “Well, I guess that…makes sense.”

Truth be told, Mokou had left a few names off that list. It was better if Satoko didn’t know everything about what she was up to. “In the meantime though, we should prepare the kids for a worst-case scenario. Flying lessons are coming up, in fact. I know it’s just going to be the kids in the twelve to fourteen range, but the younger ones ought to learn as well. We should also look to see if anyone’s got any neat powers we could use, and start drilling them to-”

“No!” Satoko snapped. “We are not turning them into an army!”

Mokou paused, and then said, “Satoko, we may not have a choice.”

“I don’t care,” Satoko said stubbornly. “My family started the Children’s Home so that they could have something resembling a normal life, and I intend to give it to them. They need to have things return to normal as soon as possible.”

“Normal? Satoko, you told me to think, now it’s your turn! I already told you, this wasn’t just some idiots being idiots! I’m telling you, something is wrong! There’s something in motion, something that’s going after us, after our kids. And I’ll bet my bottom yen that that Skinner guy is at the center of it!”

…

Back in the washroom of his house in the Human Village, Nathaniel Skinner dipped a washcloth in the bowl of soapy water and carefully cleaned the sweat off his face.

He was standing bare-chested in front of the half-length mirror set in the wall. Obtaining it had been ridiculously difficult. This godforsaken country was so out of touch with civilization that glass was considered a luxury, at least where he was stuck. But he had gotten his hands on one, and now could see his profile in full.

He did not like what he saw.

His face was flushed, and his body glistened with sweat. He had managed to keep his cool, but it had been a close thing. That strange woman had upset him far greater than he could have expected. That was a problem. She was just a woman, after all. She ought not have that much of an effect on him.

But he knew better than that. She was more than just a woman. He wasn’t sure what she was exactly, but he meant to find out.

Sighing, he set to work wiping himself down. Then he gingerly dipped his right hand into another basin, this one filled with warm water treated with herbs. He winced as the pins and needles erupted all over his palm and wrist, but he kept it submerged until the pain was too much to bear. Then he carefully dried it, though even the touch of the soft cloth was painful.

He then picked up a set of clean linens and began to bind up his right hand. Tighter and tight he wound the cloth, until it was completely encased.

From outside, he heard a fervent knock at the front door. Skinner started at the sudden sound, and then he cursed. Who was it now?

A moment later the Mai, the housekeeper, knocked hesitantly at the door. “Master Skinner?” she said. “Master Sonozika is here to see you.”

Of course he was. “Let him in, and offer refreshments!” he called through the wooden door. “I’ll be along shortly!”

Skinner hastily pulled on his clothes, starting with his long-sleeved shirt, then his heavy leather coat, and finally the thick gloves. He finished buttoning up his shirt, repositioned his silver crucifix, and checked himself in the mirror.

It would have to do.

Gendou was fretting in the front room. That was no surprise; Gendou was always fretting. It got aggravating at times, but on the plus side it did make him quite receptive to just about anything Nathaniel had to say.

When he saw Nathaniel enter the room, he perked up immediately. “Ah, Skinner. Good. Sorry for popping by on such short notice, but-” Then his piggish eyes narrowed. “Good gods, man! Do you even wear that thing indoors? You must be sweltering!”

Quite the opposite, really. “I often find myself called away on the Lord’s work on short notice,” Nathaniel said. “So I find it easier to always be dressed for an unexpected journey.”

“Journey to where? You never leave the village!” Then before Nathaniel could respond, Gendou just shrugged and said, “Oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter. But we have to talk about what happened at the market! That was outrageous!”

On that, Nathaniel agreed. “But not at all unexpected. It is, after all, what I’ve been telling you.”

“No, not at all. And you were right, of course.” With a sigh, Gendou settled down into a nearby chair. “Still, it’s so hard to believe. They’re just children, after all. Wild, savage, totally ungovernable children, but children nevertheless.”

“Well, that’s how they operate. The evil ones, I mean. Corrupt the children, go after the parents. And when parents are lacking, go after the good men and women. It is the same back in my world as well.” Skinner then changed the subject. “Still, as troublesome as all of this was, it was…very illuminating.”

“I’ll say it was! They were like animals! Especially that one woman, the one with the red pants. Do you know her?”

“Not until today. Apparently she’s the orphanage’s cook, which says something about them. Joshua Stump said that her name was Fujiwara no Mokou. Does that name mean anything to you?”

Gendou didn’t respond.

“Gendou?”

The small man had gone completely pale. He face was sweat even at the best of times, but now his pores were practically gushing.

Nathaniel frowned. “Gendou, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Which, to be fair, was something of a literal occurrence around those parts.

“What? No, I…” Gendou licked his lips. “Well, maybe.”

“You recognize that name?”

“Er, ah, I have heard of someone with that name before, but…” He shook his head. “No, it must be a coincidence. That person lived long before Gensokyo was even created! She would have been dead and buried for centuries by now!”

“Unless she became a youkai,” Nathaniel pointed out. He didn’t have any idea who Gendou was talking about, but he was now very curious.

Gendou gasped. “Is it her, then? Is she the youkai?”

No, she was not. There were youkai that looked incredibly Human, enough to fool the unwise and unlearned perhaps, but Nathaniel was able to tell at a glance whether or not someone was Human or something else. And this woman, this “Mokou” was certainly no youkai, though she wasn’t exactly Human either. Still, while falsehood were explicitly against his faith, he felt that God would forgive him this one, as it served a higher purpose. “Without any doubt,” he said solemnly.

“No,” Gendou whispered. “No, it can’t be. She…she murdered my ancestors. The stories about her…and now she’s here for me!”

Nathaniel still didn’t know what Gendou was talking about, but he knew an opportunity when he saw it. “It makes sense then, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. All of it. How could I have been so blind?”

Nathaniel sat down next to him and placed his left hand on Gendou’s shoulder, his right squeezing his crucifix. “You see, then, the importance of acting quickly.”

“Right. Right. You have a plan, then?”

“That I do, but there are some things that I need to set in motion first.” He rubbed the bristles of his beard with his left hand, the right still gripping his cross.

“What things?” Gendou asked.

Nathaniel smiled. “Don’t worry yourself, my old friend. Leave it to me.”

“Right, of course,” Gendou said. He stood up. “Just…keep me informed…of anything that I ought to be informed of.”

The implicit meaning was clear. If you have to do anything that will upset my people, then I’d damn well better not hear about it. “Don’t worry yourself, Gendou,” Nathaniel said. “The Lord’s plan may not seem clear at first, but it has never failed me yet.”

“Yes, well, here’s hoping it stays that way,” Gendou said albeit a bit skeptically. He was respectful of Nathaniel and his parishioners’’ faith, but he did not share it himself. “Though speaking of which, what of your friend?”

Nathaniel sighed. “I pray that God opens Brother Joshua’s eyes before it is too late. He always had a soft spot for children, and doesn’t always see the dangers of corruption.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Gendou said as he stood up and headed for the door. “In the meantime, I’ve got those country people lined up at my door demanding some kind of explanation, like it was my fault!”

“God go with you, Gendou,” Nathaniel said. “Though, ah, by the by…”

“Hmmm?”

“Back during that ruckus, did you by any chance notice one of the orphans in particular? Specifically, a small girl with short silver hair?”

Gendou frowned. “Ah, no, most of my attention was on that…that woman. Why?”

“No reason,” Nathaniel said. “No reason at all.”

…

I can’t think of anything to say, other than this chapter was kind of a headache due to having so many moving parts present in a relatively short scene. Oh well.

Until next time, everyone.

[the-sanders-sides]

inidan american (desi) logan

a sequel to this post because people asked for more and i decided that they shall receive (and also i love writing these)

fair warning, logans a bitter kid, and this isnt as positive and happy as romans post. ive experienced two different ways of being desi, one where i lived in fully asian and indian community and didnt even think id ever feel alone, and another where i moved to a place where i havent met another desi in like 7 years of living here in a 3 hour driving radius. in romans post i played into my first experience and how at home i felt. in the second experience, the one im in right now, i am much more bitter about who i am and not really knowing anyone who gets it anymore. so i play into that A LOT in this. so keep that in mind. (and he will get happier in a future part. m planning on making this into a series)

ok so first off. his name is logan sanders. people (mostly other indians) dont believe him when he tells them. he tells them they dont know indian history. they say they do. he tells them that the british fucked around (quite literally) in india for four centuries so of course english names would stick with that precise wording

sometimes when he’s annoyed enough and doesnt want to explain this for the millionth he defends himself with this russel peters skit (watch it, it’s hilarious) because it describes his family. to a T. 

he grew up in a community with not very many asians, and knew no indians outside his family so he felt a sort of disconnect to his culture

while his grandparents and parents would teach him about indian culture, he felt so distant from it since he knew no one outside his family who was indian, and since he didnt have any siblings or any nearby cousins to hang around with

he had visited india once but he was too young to remember it properly or too remember his cousins

the closest mandir was an hour away so that also limited the amount of indian kids/people he knew

he barely knew hindi because everyone in his family spoke english, especially in public

he felt guilty over the disconnect he felt and would always try to bridge it but would never accomplish this because it he kept losing passion since he rarely saw other people like him in the real world and in the media and he didnt see the point of trying

this all changed in eight grade when he moved next door to the Kumar family in a north indian street of some south asian blocks in an asian community

when his family first moved, the Kumar family invited the Sanders over to welcome them

it turns out the Kumar’s had a son who was the same age as logan

“hi logan! im rohan kumar! but i like going by roman instead of rohan!” 

this introduction pissed logan off 

he was seething because why would this kid who got to have an indian first AND last name change his name to an english one! why didnt he see the value of his name!

he knew right away that such a difference meant they could never be friends 

“im logan sanders, but thats all youll get to know about me because i see no use associating myself with someone as... well, ignorant, as you”

roman decides to whip out one of the swears his cousins taught him and whisper shouts “who are you calling ignorant, bhenchod?” 

 it became clear to him that this was new turf, and people on this new turf must be speaking hindi. and that he was the ignorant one if he couldnt talk in hindi. he made a vow to learn it as fast as he could to make sure this roman kid wasnt better than him

but, logan grits his teeth and says “you, and i know it must be true because you were too dumb to understand me the first time”

this evidently struck a sore spot in roman because he didnt fight back but just stalked away. logan smiled slightly, happy to have won that argument

logan asks his grandpa to teach him hindi and his grandpa gets super excited

they start lessons immediately and despite barely hearing it growing up, it’s as if his brain was made for this because he picks the language up amazingly fast and in a months time, while not able to speak back yet, he can understand most casual conversation

his first diwali in basically little india is the most magical thing ever

diwali at his old home was very quiet because there wasnt anyone around to celebrate with

everyone is so happy in this new home however. everyone is dressed up and all the houses are lit up and there are diyas everywhere and he doesnt want to admit it but the kumar’s have the best rangoli on the street and it’s because of roman and he knows roman did it because sometimes he’d stare out of his bedroom window while doing homework and have a perfect view of roman delicately working on it for two weeks

(the kumar’s front porch had been covered with tarp waiting for diwali to make sure romans precious rangoli wasnt stepped on or ruined. when it’s finally let up, everywhere where there could be art, there is. it’s insane how good at colors roman is, logan thinks)

diwali morning: 

he fights his parents because he doesnt want to miss school for diwali because americans dont have a day off for it. his parents set the clocks in the house ahead to make him think he overslept so he would skip school. (logan didnt know that his parents had submitted an excused absence form for religious reasons and that the school was very understanding. he thought it would be like his old school where he wouldnteven bother trying since he wasnt christain and the school was lkinda discriminatory)

they spend the morning in mandir and it’s nice. for once he doesnt feel different from his peers because he goes to mandir and not church or synagogue. he feels at home.

diwali afternoon:

the afternoon is spent with frantic cleaning and cooking and digging around for the diya’s that were still in boxes, packed away from when they moved

logan offered to find them all to continue with a diya science experiment he started two years prior. his theory was that the diya’s were multiplying and there were more each year despite no one buying anymore

this held true, because even though he could only find half of their diya collection, it was somehow more than the entire diya collection of two years prior. 

diwali evening:

theres a big potluck and everyone in the neighborhood is out talking to each other, looking at the decorations at everyones houses, eating samosas, and playing with sparklers. 

logan feels content

he makes a new resolve to learn more about hinduism. if this is what ti was supposed to be, then he never wanted to be away from hinduism. 

he looked at the metaphors and symbolism in everything and finally understood what his dad meant he told logan that hinduism is just science written in poetry and that string theory is written in the ancient texts

middle school in this new town is so much better than middle school in his old home. why?

a. doesnt get bullied for being a nerd

b. doesnt get called gay slurs 

c. the classes are harder 

d. much less racism

e. all of the above

soon enough, logans asking his grandpa to teach him how to cook Indian food

Logan spends the day burning dosas and making lopsided rotis

(eventually he gets the hang of it, and a he'll be cooking food for an infuriating Indian boy ;) ;) psst it's roman)

Speaking of boys

Coming out isn't an option for logan

He knows that his parents arent really religious enough to really look into hinduism and see that no, gays are not bad

But they are traditional and conservative enough to be homophobic

not homophobic as in spewing hate with the westboro baptist church at a pride parade

But homophobic as in "the gays are fine as long as they don't do it in front of me" kinda thing

So Logan stays quiet

the closet kinda sucks but i mean what can he do

it’s safer inside, and he as illogical as wishing is, he wishes that people would use their brains and realize there’s nothing wrong with gay

anyway

in school logan makes his first desi friend, who was dubbed as anxiety years ago and cant seem to get rid of the nickname and now has a whole complex about his name so logan doesnt know his name

logan and anxiety meet in the school library: logan studying and anxiety hiding

people dont like anxiety

especially non-indian kids

surprise surprise it’s an old buddy called racism, but anxiety’s story is for another time

(but even though no one really likes anxiety, whenever racist shit goes down, it has to go through roman)

so logan and anxiety become fast friends

and they make fun of roman (a+ bonding)

logan claims that roman is a hypocrite for changing his name to an english one while being so immersed in indian culture

anxiety doesnt dispute this, but says he has a past with roman

a past that involved getting stuck with the name anxiety

again, another story for another time

one day, when logan and anxiety are eating lunch they see roman destroy some homophobes who throw around the word f*g and keep calling caitlyn jenner, bruce jenner

logans chest surges

he’s all like “what?? emotions?? pride at roman?? is he better than me for being so open and standing up for what he believes in??”

gay panic basically

but logan masked it well and pushed it away

the next day roman comes to school with a pride patch on his jean jacket

logan feels like he cant breathe

logan is supremely jealous of roman.

he can be gay in peace

he can pretend not to be indian in a way that benefits him

and he’s not affected by stereotypes in the same way?? like what does this kid not have

and by stereotypes i mean

roman is the complete opposite of all indian and desi stereotypes: loud, flamboyant, theatrical

logan’s personality is exactly how the stereotypes are. he’s nerdy and likes science and math and it seems like he cant escape the stereotypes. they follow him. and he feels guilty that he likes science and math and is nerdy. 

as illogical as it is, he wishes he was different from how he is

but logan later learns that there are more than just his perspective on being desi and that every desi kid growing up faces challenges about it that are different than his, causing them to experience being desi differently

and logan will accept that, in another story at another time

for now, he’s just bitter. and as illogical as it is, he wishes the world was better

and now, i shall tag some people who asked to be tagged and some other desi’s who loved this because i feel like you guys might appreciate this too. also i love u. desi famders squad up.

@sssixeyedrunt @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @caterpiller-tea @xxxbladeangelxxx @snufflesthegrim227 @cloudchaser7 @thelowlysatsuma 

[jack-kellys]

thank u, next: finale part 1

hey everyone ;)

thank u, next is finally back and this thing I wrote is so long that it's TWO PARTS LONG!! isn't that EXCITING?? (it's only two parts because tumblr won't let it fit but it's fine)

all previous chapters are at the bottom of my masterlist—read for a refresher if ya need lmao it's been a while

here we go!

————

LAST TIME ON TU,N: al and race had their first date, al revealed some of his history, both boys admitted they loved each other (essentially), and race mentioned something about needing to stall....

words: 1527

warnings: cursing, death mention, cliffhanger?? :0

———

Five, Part One

“I think it’s ready.”

Race tilted his head to face his boyfriend as he said this, hands placed neatly over his stomach as he laid on the bed. Race’s quiet demeanor was misleading, as usual—a storm was roaring inside, a hurricane spinning and making his chest tighten in apprehension.

“What’s ready, Al?” Race asked.

Albert turned his head to the side as well, gazing at Race with a new light in his eyes. His smile was so wide and endearing that it nearly broke Race’s heart.

“The apartment, stupid,” Al scoffed. “We fixed it up, cleaned it, I got all the papers ready, my stuff’s all ready…” Al grinned. “I’m ready to move into it.”

And then Race’s heart did break.

Al looked so, so happy. Race knew that for Albert, getting his own place was a bigger milestone than it already would be for the average person. It meant something more than just a second floor apartment—it was a freedom Al had longed for since he was twelve, he'd said. A freedom that would rip whatever freedom Albert currently had away from him.

“You sure, baby?” Race whispered, trying not to let his voice break. “Everything’s done? There’s nothing left to prepare, nothing left to pack up?”

“Nope!” Al shook his head, eyes glinting as he leaned over to Race. “It’s done. Everything’s done. It’s gonna be mine, Antonio. All mine. Just like you.”

He pressed his lips hard onto Race’s, Race eagerly tangling his fingers into Albert’s red hair. Al’s hand was warm against his cheek, his thumb rubbing softly against him despite the intensity of the kiss. Race lost himself in Albert more than usual, hyper-focused on every detail—every freckle, every hair out of place, the feel of his hands on him, the taste of his lips and tongue, every small sound he made. Ironic how Al called him perfect, since the opposite was true.

After a while, Race was tracing his fingers over Albert’s stomach as the man rambled about how he wanted to set up the place, Race nodding every so often.

How Race’s heart shattered for him—this most undeserving man who had been nothing but endlessly interesting and funny and warm to him. Yes, Albert’s infatuation was mostly false, but Race could feel the deep friendly affection Albert harbored for him as well, one Race harbored right back. Only once before had Race let himself do that—in 1905, a boy named Sean Conlon walked into that same apartment door with a skeptical glance and narrowed eyes, and to Race’s dismay, they were friendly as well as intimate. It had broke him then, and it was breaking him now.

Through the rest of the week, it would continue to break him. Race helped Albert move into the place, not allowed to let Al get any suspicions as to why Race might have seemed gloomy. Moving in was tragically fun, the two of them laughing as they dropped boxes, picking up their contents and talking about nothing and everything. Race was surprised at his ability to keep the lump in his throat down enough to even talk to Al. Lucky, too—Albert was rather smart at figuring when something was wrong.

“I think that's everything,” Albert huffed, smiling and wiping his hands on his jeans. “I can't believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Race laughed, shaking his head. “Fast, huh?”

“Yeah, thank God. I thought that was gonna take so much longer. I'd assumed the worst,”

Al shrugged. Then he grinned, doing a small spin with his arms out in the center of the room. “But this is so great! It's all mine, and I'm responsible for it, and I make the rules—well, technically not, but still…”

Albert’s rambling faded away slightly as Race felt something in his chest. A sort of tug, like something was trying to get out of him

His heart stopped. That was so soon. Surely he had a little more time? An hour at least? He still had to tell him everything.

His change in demeanor must have been noticeable. Al was practically scanning him, analyzing anything that could be wrong.

“Babe, you oka—”

“I lied to you,” Race interrupted.

Albert went silent. His head was cocked slightly, that skeptical frown of his making Race’s heart skip a beat, that frown that meant Al wasn't just some pawn in Race’s wretched game.

“About what?” Albert asked slowly, eyes narrowed. A pang of guilt jabbed Race through the ribs as he remembered Al’s shitty past with relationships. This would be one for the books, Race supposed.

“About me. About who I—well, not about who I am. I lied about what I'm here for,” Race confessed.

“About why your mom left you here,” Al concluded. “What you're saying is that you ain't here to protect the people who buy this apartment, like you’d said to me.”

Race couldn't help but be slightly impressed. Albert’s expression remained rather neutral, his actual anger probably fighting with his infatuation with Race. Al was doing a good job at not letting either side win.

“No, I'm not here for that,” Race sighed. He had to get this over with. Maybe it'd hurt less that way. “When my family first moved to New York, my mom was at a loss as to where to go. Not many people just welcomed immigrants like that, y’know? And then we found this apartment. The landlord charmed my ma’s pants off—he was the first nice person to us in the city. But then he changed.

“He stopped caring about us. He didn't get anyone to fix anything when things were broken, no one cleaned anything. He took advantage of the people in this building, knowing no one could go anywhere else. He just took our money and kept the place in shambles. And so I died from the conditions—that part’s true.

“As I was dying—stay with me here, Albie, we don't have much time—my mother cursed me with haunting this apartment, and….making anyone who walks into the door with intentions to buy...instantly fall in love with me. It keeps me alive—the more people, the longer I get to live.”

Race hugged himself, willing the feeling in his chest to wait. Albert looked paralyzed, with fear or confusion or anger Race couldn't tell.

“So...so none of this was real? I-I don't...I don't love you right now?” Al questioned, eyebrows knit together.

“It's real to an extent,” Race explained, his heart cracking as Albert’s face dropped further. “I just...I gave you the initial infatuation, and then amplified the feelings you caught for me.”

“The feelings I caught?” Al scoffed. “Like you don't have them.” Then Albert froze. “You don't have ‘em, do you. You never did. That was just my stupid head telling me that you did, wasn't it.”

Race shook his head wildly. This was going worse than he thought it would. “No! No, Al, I promise you I do. I fell for you, I didn't mean to, but I—”

“Didn't mean to?” Albert seethed. If he was this worked up, time must really be up soon, Race noted sadly.

“It hurts less that way,” Race decided to admit. “I've been doing this for centuries now. My Ma wants revenge for eternity and I'm the pawn she needs to play it out.”

“This is fucked up,” Al said, tone decisive and expression stiff. “You're fucked up. Get the fuck outta my apartment, right now, you lying sonofa—”

“I’m afraid I can't do that,” Race said, the words coming out of him rather than him actually saying them. He was starting to feel a little distant, but he had to hold on. Just a little longer.

Albert’s eyes narrowed. “You're not physically attached to the place. Your words, not mine. Get out.”

“Can't leave this time,” Race shook his head solemnly.

“Then fuck you. I'll leave,” Albert bit out. Approaching the door, he scoffed, “if I didn't fuck a ghost, then you must be a goddamn demon, fucking prick.”

Race didn't say anything—couldn't, rather, as Al tried to open the door. He jiggled the knob a few times, then looked at Race.

“I didn't lock this,” Al stated. His eyes were wide. “Did you?”

“Not exactly,” Race murmured, looking at his feet. “I can't leave, which means you can't leave, either.”

“Race?” Albert breathed, back flush against the door as fear flashed in his eyes. “What are you saying.”

“I’m running out of time,” Race said instead. “I just...I need you to know that I've loved you. I'm in love with you, I swear on my mother’s soul I am. And I'm sorry you have to pay for it. I'm so, so sorry…” He felt tears slide down his cheeks.

“Race, for what?” Albert demanded. “What's- what’s going to happen?”

“I'm not part of what comes next, okay? I don't want this, I don't...want this…please…”

The tugging was too strong. He'd pushed it off for too long; he was out of time. Race felt his mind slip away from him, and then he was gone, torn away from Albert and leaving him to go through what was next alone.

———

haha what the fuck does THAT mean? read part two to find out!

TAG LIST

@suddenly-im-respecsable @cream--rises @bencookisagod @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @stopthe-presses @technically-whizzy @papesdontsellthemselves @starrysence @seasickdolphin @iamliterallyaghost @beep-beep-byler @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @thomasbeingthomas @the-king-of-brooklyn @sunshine-e-cigarettes @thebroadwayaesthetic @spot-me50-papes @i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing @iwontfallinlovewfalling @timehops @kingofsantafe @we-dont-sell-papes @eveningpaper @sure-as-a-star @godhatesjordan @awkwardstranger98 @ireallyloveiainyoungwow @big-potato-asshole @have-we-got-news-for-you @bxnesof92 @backgroundnewsies @orollyitsracetrackhiggins @a-most-auspicious-erster @modern-race-owns-airpods @asphodelnerd @infinity-fandom-trash @whateva-ya-want

[roonil-wazlib-at-221b]

Hacked: Part 3

You've got to be the only high-schooler without a phone, but that doesn't bother you (much). You can text on multiple platforms on your computer so as long as you've got Wi-Fi you can connect to the Internet and everything you need.

Your Science class is entirely technology-based so it's not hard to wander off the path and do your own research. You've always been all right at Science, if not pretty good, and it doesn't matter what grades you've got in three months because then it'll all be over.

As Mr. Bradfurd rambles on about tectonic plates or the like, you pull up the email exchange between you and Mrs. Sharpe. The meeting with her had been largely unsuccessful except for a list of people that might want Tony Stark humiliated. Unfortunately, it's mostly a list of his flings. You're still going to meet with them, however, and hope they've got more to go on except 'He lured me to bed and then left the next day!'

Your laptop bings and the class looks at you. You flush and turn the sound off before investigating the source of the sound. Ned had texted you on your Google Voice number.

Ned: Hey

You: Wassup

Ned: I got a lego death star, me and peter r gonna try and build it wanna come over

You grimace at the mention of Peter. He can't stand to be in your presence for more than fifteen minutes normally (lunch was an exception; you had been surprised when he had appeared to be listening to the argument going on between you and Ned) and won't even talk to you. Sometimes he won't even look at you. You can understand hating someone like that—Tony Stark is the man you despise, but that's for a good reason—and you can rack your brains for hours but you just can't figure out why Ned's best friend hates you. You didn't ever do anything wrong to him, but you'll return fire with fire happily.

You: Nah no thanks. Im pretty sure Peters got like a trap set up around his door to keep me out lol

Ned: What are u talking about?

You: Dont play dumb, its no secret he hates me

Ned: Wtf u talking about?

You: U havent noticed?

"Y/n?" Mr. Bradfurd calls, disapproval evident in his voice. You jerk your head up and stare at him, slowly getting redder as the whispers around you get louder. Without looking at the screen, you minimize your texting and go back to the class notes. "Get your head out of the clouds," your Science teacher warns. You just duck your head and seethe.

MJ kicks your foot under the table and shows you her recent sketch of you. Your head is a tomato. "Because you blush so easily," she whispers.

You roll your eyes at her antics. At least the teachers don't call her out on never paying attention. MJ's smart mouth might actually land her in detention rather than just observing and you know that despite her acting like she doesn't care, her parents put a lot of pressure onto her to get good grades.

When you're sure Bradfurd isn't eyeing you anymore, you pull up the tab between you and Ned. He sent a bunch of texts and you can imagine him sending them all with varying degrees of hysteria:

Ned: No I havent

Ned: He doesn't hate you!

Ned: Y/n srsly he doesn't hate you im not lying

Ned: TALK TO ME

Ned: Ru mad at me now?

Ned: Y/N

Ned: Imma text mj if you dont respond

You: Cool ur tits, bradfurd called me out

Ned: Oh good I thought you were mad lol

You: Y would i b?

Ned: Idk man

Ned: So ill take it ur not coming 2nite?

You: Ye, sorry

You: Gotta work

Ned: Ur always working, just like peters always at the Stark Internship

You internally groan at that. You had managed to forget about the other person you know who would be affected by exposing Stark. You may not hate Peter, even though he seems to hate you. Ruining Stark's reputation could potentially ruin Peter's and you don't want to see another person travel down the road of Persons Rejected By Society. You're already halfway to the end.

You: He shouldnt do that; stark's made a lot of mistakes. who knows what could happen to peter if stark gets into trouble?

Ned: lol

Ned: Wait ur serious?

Ned: Wtf y/n its not like stark's done super horrible stuff

You: Just sayin

In fact, you think you could even like Peter if he didn't hate you. He's certainly attractive, with curly brown hair and melted-chocolate eyes, but you wouldn't settle for someone who can't even stand you. If he could learn to be less of a jerk, certainly, especially considering the only guys you ever talk to is Ned and Peter by association.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the school day, and you rush to your locker with the hopes of no one intercepting you. You'd managed your whole week without seeing Lindsey but today it would appear your luck has run out because she's waiting by your locker with a frown on her face and hands on her hips.

"Y/n," she grunts. You quirk an eyebrow at her and wait for her to move. When she finally pushes off the wall, it's with a snort and roll of her eyes. The two of you aren't especially fond of each other but the time you'd spent as teammates on the lacrosse team had eased the loathing to general dislike. "You haven't been to practice in two weeks."

"I am aware," you say curtly, twisting your lock around and then jamming your shoulder into the door to pop it open. She lets out a huff again as it becomes obvious you're not going to speed the conversation along.

"If you're still on the team, you've got to run about fifteen miles if you were to go to practice tonight," Lindsey informs you, sounding infinitely smug about the fact. She knows you can run, just not fifteen whole fucking miles.

"Oh, and I'm sure the coaches won't accept the fact that I'm working three jobs and my mom is dying of cancer as a reasonable excuse, right?" you snap, sweeping your books into your backpack quickly. "We both know I won't be running fifteen miles if I go to practice tonight. Maybe one extra. Maybe."

"With this level of disrespect to a team captain and your unavailability, we might as well just cut you now," Lindsey says with disgust, looking down her nose at you as your shoulder your backpack and curse your height when you have to crane your neck to look her in the eyes. It's the platform shoes she's always wearing, dammit.

"Coach Trisha's the one who decides who gets cut and who doesn't," you say smoothly. You're not worried about your place on the team—or you wouldn't be, if you hadn't been missing two weeks' worth of practices. You haven't been playing lacrosse very long but you're one of the better players on the team. If you could make it to practices and games that would be great.

"Captain's input is also vital," she snarls.

You narrow your eyes at her and tilt your head. The two of you both know that you could have been one of the captains based on skill alone, but you hadn't wanted to be the center of attention and you're not popular enough with the team to have managed that. That's part of the reason Lindsey enjoys putting you down—she loves to keep reminding you who has the power.

Lindsey's eyes twitch to the wall and then back to you. "Practice is at 6 tonight. If you can."

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Revenge (extended edition)

So I’m sorry it got way longer than expected. You don’t have to publish it if you think it’s bad :)

(Warning: 18+ language.)

Revenge

Honestly, Agni’s always felt like he’s not really good enough for you. It’s nothing you or anyone else did; it’s just that he thinks you’re pretty much the most amazing person in the world, too amazing, and he… doesn’t think that he’s good enough for someone who’s the most amazing person in the world.

You’re the proclaimed “ genius-billionaire-philanthropist-player”. You had your first Ph.D at 14. You cured three type of cancer, one of which was how you two met- because your cure saved him. You made your fortune in tech - “real life Tony Stark” was on your Time magazine “Person of the Year” cover headline. You negotiated a peace between the two Koreas. You cured AIDS! For goodness sake. Peoples may have their opinions about how you seem to be, but your fuck-all attitude is so impressive, the Kardashian pays to go to your parties that were hosted without you ever showing up.

But him? He’s nothing.

No wealth, no fancy degree, no family worth speaking of - other than Soma. He’s just a kindergarten teacher for a private school where the tuition per year is almost more than his own salary. You saved his life, the reason why he’s not six-feet under but towering over most people at six feet five inches.

“Palpable eye-candy.”

“He’s exotic, we’ll give him that.”

“A kindergarten teach? Fo’real? That’s what The She IRL Tony Stark is into. Damn. I’m better than that and I can’t even find a date.”

“Pfft. probs keep that blond mop-head as a philanthropy trophy.”

“I wonder if he’s actually a pedo? Or a tranny, no real man is that pathetic.”

“Ay’yo ma, kill urself so I get a chance aye?”

“What do you call a male gold digger? A man whore?”

“Man-whore, man-slut. Whatev.”

And so on.

He hides these tweets, comments, gossips - whatever they are from you. Good thing that despite being the Tech magnate, you don’t care much for social media, other than what the trending memes is.

Until one day when he couldn’t. Even from all the loves and hugs and smiles he’s receive each day at school from his wonderful students.

“They’re funny!”

You insisted with a mouth full of strawberry starburst. It’s hard to imagine that the woman who brings fear on a world-stage level is his wife. Wearing long ebony hair in a messy bun, buried oversized sweater (previously his) stained with BBQ sauce, lounging around on the sofas, munching on chips, and cackling at memes he can’t understand, it’s hard to believe you’re the same person that walked out the door with butlers and guards trailing behind you.

That said, it’s moment like this that reminds him of how much in love with you he is - and the shame bubbles from inside him, clawing at his throat, threatening to spill over. The same feeling he’s been having since the media caught wind of the fact that you two are married.

He sat down behind you, surprising you with a hug. He figured that if he buried his face in your back long enough, he’ll regain enough composure to stop himself from crying from the sheer cruelty of people he’d never meet.

(You’re not surprised when he hugs you of course, he’s always been the more affectionate one. Correction, he’s the epitome of affection, love, goodness, and anything that’s GOOD^tm.)

(While you are, in short, an emotionless, semi-borderline psychopathic asshole and mostly an impatient bitch. If it wasn’t for Agni, you would’ve just blew North Korea off the maps with their own nuclear arsenal instead of spending months of planning with the joint forces of the South Korean government, the USA, and U.N forces.)

(You never once stop complaining during this time. And it was the God of Patience, personified as Agni, the only person who could manage to calm you down every time you’d wake up in the middle of the night, rambling about how much faster it would be to “Just. Bomb. The. Shit. Out. Of. Those. Commie.”)

(You still can’t understand why to this day, Agni refuses to accept his critical role in your so-called “peace negotiation” of the Koreas”.)

“What’s wrong?” You asks nonchalantly as you scrolls through your thousandth meme for the day. It’s one your way of keep yourself sane - the main way being Agni, obv.

“It’s nothing. Just work, nothing you should worry about.” He answers, resting his face on your shoulder, “but also, you promised me you’d drink less.”

“I did. I’ve only got two beers and half a bottle of mini-Jack Danny today.” You bit into a chip. Something’s off. He doesn’t usually brings up your shitty alcoholic habit unless it’s seriously too much, or if he’s deflecting.

“Uh, sure you did. I can still smell it on your breath.” He replies in a disappointed voice, his Teacher’s voice. The one he knew that you hate. Or at the most, mildly dislike. It is an impossibility to hate him.

“Whatever. Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know? Grading some kiddie finger painting or something?” You snaps back in a bored voice, , expecting him to muzzle you with your bowl of chips in return.

Instead, Agni pulls away, you turn back and his eyes are just spilling with hot tears.

You froze, unsure of what to do. Your computer like mind immediately rewind itself and methodically sort itself to all events within the past 72 hours to see where you might’ve gone wrong to make him cry.

“Why did you marry me?” He asks softly, refusing to meet your eyes. He withdrawn himself away from you, tucking his normally large body into the corner of the sofa, his fingers tugging at the hand-casted gold ring, “I..I was never good enough to deserve you.”

“Whoa. Um. Where exactly is this coming from? Who the fuck told you something like this?” Your eyes narrow dangerously. Agni wouldn’t just break down like this. You’ve been married for two years to him, and the news has only broken six-months ago. You’ve made sure to silence the press so that Agni can transition smoothly - apparently you fucked up somewhere along the line.

“What? No. I mean it. I’m serious. Between you and me. I’m nothing. I’m not even as great as Pepper Potts, and she’s Iron Man girlfriend.” He rambles on, his face still streaks with tears, “I’m just a teacher for a bunch of little kids who’re lucky enough to be born into wealthy families. They’re the best kids. I just.. I don’t know. Im not a professor for a prestigious college like Sebastian. I’m not the heir to a title like the Phantomhives twin. I’m not brilliant in any way comparable to Sieglinde. I’m..im..nothing.”

You stares at him. Wordless after hearing the words that came out of his mouth. A strange rage that you haven’t felt in a long time bubbles up inside your gut.

You haven’t felt rage in a long time because you have him.

A familiar desire to kill something uncoils itself from years in hibernation. You haven’t desire to kill in so long because he was next to you.

All that was bad and evil and rotten within your are locked away because he is the sun of your life.

The light of your days. The guidance in your path. The reason you haven’t drank yourself to death or overdosed on some concoction of drugs.

And here he is.

The most beautiful and perfect existence in this damn planet. Saying all these bullshit about himself. The audacity to believe his own words.

Someone will pay for this. You seethes. “Who? Tell me who.” You calmly asks as you yank him towards you for a tight hug. You’re stronger than he is after all.

“No one. But it’s true, isn’t it. You know that it’s true.” He hiccups, resisting your hug. You can feel the heat from his baseless shame radiating.

“All right. Don’t tell me.” You clicks your tongue.

“Tanaka! Show me all of recent Tweeter, Facebook, Instagram, and others relates to Agni in anyway.” You yells into thin air, moments later, the house AI, Tanaka, responded with all of what Agni has been trying to hide from you.

“Why? What?! No! No please. Stop it! Tanaka stop!.” Agni’s head perks up, frantically waving for the AI to shut up to no avail.

You skim through the flashing holograms, your blood boils at the comments, and tweets, and re-tweets and all the shits you’ve always been too busy to care about.

If these had been directed at you, you couldn’t give less of a shit. But no, they target the only thing, the only person you hold dear above all else. This calls for war.

And you’re very good at war.

Agni sees that flash of cruelty in you, the one where you beat a man twice his size to death because that man dared to kidnapped him. The one where you casually placed a bullet in the head of a former dictator in front of her rogue son. There’s a darkness in you. So dark and cold and cruel that he can’t believe he’d forgotten it still exists.

He begs you to reconsider, and try his best to muffle the black fire he can see is growing. The way your eyes darken. The way your nostrils flares. It terrifies him.

And so he begs you to calm down. To not let your anger gets to you. Try as you might, your sole vulnerability remains to be his puppy-dog sparkling eyes.

So tou calm down. You tell him him that it’s ok, you won’t do anything. If it’s all right, you’ll just block all of these nasty comments from his social media’s. Better yet, you suggest that he go on a “detox”. No more social media for him, none whatsoever. For a whole month until this all dies down.

Agni agrees feverishly. He apologizes for making you worry - something which still slightly pissed you off when he apologize for anything. You carried him to bed, he blushes, you made gentle love to him.

And when your beautiful Sun is fast asleep with his silky white hair resting on your top-grade silk pillowcase and his beautiful body cozied under your thick Turkish fiber blanket. You kisses his him gently and leave the room.

And you wage war.

You tracked down every single IP address of every single nasty commenters and tweeters and posts and retweets to their live owner. You made a list.

You commandeer their bank account, their stocks, their saving, their livelihood. Everything that are of value to them.

And you burned it all.

Temporarily of course. Agni would be devastated if he ever finds out what you’ve done.

You decided to let these fuckers suffer for a whole week, maybe a little more the worst of offender.

When you’re satisfied with all your doing, you return to your bedroom, where the light of your existence remains fast asleep.

He has the cutest snore

You smile as you snuggle next to him.

[leesacrakon]

Hey I just saw your Patton angst fic and I was wondering if you could make a part 3? It was really good and people are mostly focusing on Logan and Virgil and not Patton and I really need some Patton angst and if you can't write a part 3 maybe a tiny fic? Where Patton is just breaking down and crying infront of the others?

*whispers* You’re all so good to me.

I guess I’ll write a part 3 to the Patton angst. :3

The end is really, really bad, but I hope the rest is good!

Part 1: https://leesacrakon.tumblr.com/post/165137676117/thanks-for-turning-on-anonymous-im-sorry-i

Part 2: https://leesacrakon.tumblr.com/post/165161592777/fic-afraid

tag list:  @here-to-vent @fandomsofrandom @mylasagnaisraw@virgilsspidercurtains @justanotherpurplebutterfly @tiny-mudkip@romananalogicality @pattonpending @edgeworthsnoodle@lovely-chaotic-goddess @aph-curls-n-dimples @the-babysitter@sunnyside12pershon @xix-leiloves-xix @cup-of-blue@thegeekgirl42 @the-potterhead-phandom @emupoppyjay@introverted-slytherin-of-history @virgilmood @uriteurite-likethatlikethat @shimmerthenerd @theawesomestofsauces@poisin-youth   @juju–universe @ccecode​

Fandom(s): Sanders Sides, YouTube, Thomas Sanders

Warnings: Crying, yelling, some self-hatred and self-deprecation, and implied verbal abuse

Ship(s): None/Platonic LAMP???

Patton clung to Virgil tightly as they slowly made their way to Thomas’ living room, taking in deep, shaky breaths and trying to calm himself down. Virgil didn’t look any better, his face paler than usual as he gripped Patton’s hand tightly, gently biting his bottom lip. The two of them watched silently for a moment as Roman, Logan, and Thomas continued to watch a movie together, not seeming to notice their presence. That is until Logan spoke up.

“We know you’re there, Virgil. I thought we told you to go-” Logan started, voice low. His eyes widened and his voice immediately cut off as he saw Patton standing behind Virgil, face buried in the other’s shoulder and trembling slightly.

“Patton? You’re…You’re back?” Logan asked, mouth hanging open in surprise. Patton nodded and made no move to look at the other, still shivering with fear as he slowly approached him and Virgil. Logan tilted his head slightly, observing Patton in bemusement and slight guilt.

“I…Are you alright? You’ve been gone for a while,” Logan muttered, twiddling his thumbs nervously and glancing from Virgil to Patton. The fatherly trait blinked and lifted his head off of the darker trait’s shoulder. Suddenly determined, he squeezed Virgil’s shoulder reassuringly and drew himself up, stepping in front of the other and folding his arms across his chest.

“No. I’m not alright. And Virgil isn’t either,” Patton said coldly, eyes cold and, scarily enough, unforgiving. Roman watched the small group from the couch, swallowing back a lump in his throat. Thomas sank lower, burying his head in his hands, clearly affected by the turmoil around him. Logan could feel the anger rolling off of Patton and quickly ducked his gaze, backing away slowly. Virgil stared at Patton in confusion.

“How could you honestly ask if I’m alright? After what you did to me? After what you did to Virgil?!” Patton hissed, seething, clenching his fists at his sides. Logan opened his mouth to reply and Patton shushed him with a glare. “I’m not done. You’re going to shut up and sit down and let me talk for once.” Logan quickly nodded and hurried over to the couch. Patton took Virgil by the hand and tugged him gently into the living room, giving him a reassuring smile before turning back to Logan, Roman, and Thomas.

“So, what’s it been like without me, hm? Has it been fun?” the moral side asked bitterly. “What’s it like not having me around? Was it nice, not having a stupid waste of space like me to bother you about every little thing?” Logan and Roman both flinched. Virgil’s face had paled and he collapsed into the armchair, hiding his face in his hands.

“Do you regret calling me stupid? A failure? Telling me that all I do is mess things up? Because I don’t. Want to know why?” Patton’s voice cracked as he spoke and the anger was suddenly washed away from his face, giving way to despair. Logan looked up at him in surprise and Roman stiffened. Thomas and Virgil both peeked at the normally happy trait between their fingers, frightened.

“I-It’s because…it’s because you were right. Yes, Thomas needs me, and I realize that…b-but it took me abandoning all of you and letting you suffer and turn on each other for me to realize it,” Patton said. “I-I’m a horrible, s-stupid, selfish person! I don’t….I don’t deserve to be part of you! P-Please, just…st-stop hurting Virgil, and let me come back a-and I promise I’ll do better,” Patton continued between small sobs as tears slowly began to make their way down his cheeks. Roman’s eyes softened and he slowly stood.

“Patton, I-”

“STOP! I KNOW WHAT YOU”RE GOING TO SAY! I KNOW YOU’RE RIGHT, SO JUST FORGIVE ME AND LET ME COME BACK, PLEASE!” Patton shouted, clapping his hands over his ears and sobbing. Logan and Roman exchanged a look of shock before jumping to their feet and wrapping the fatherly trait in a hug. Patton tried to wrench away, tried to push Roman and Logan off of him, but they weren’t having it.

“None of that’s true. You’re sweet and amazing, and loving, and we had no right to make you feel this way. It is us who should be begging for forgiveness, not you,” Roman said, threading his fingers through Patton’s hair and fighting back tears. Logan was silent, rigid as he had his arms wrapped tightly around Patton’s waist.

“Yes it is, it’s all true. St-Stop…Stop lying to me! I let you hurt Virgil, I let Thomas suffer, I-I….I’m a horrible person. I don’t deserve this. I don’t I don’t,” Patton moaned, burying his face in Logan’s shoulder and shivering. Virgil’s face twisted into a pained expression. Patton felt bad because of what the others had done to him. Did that make this his fault? Of course, that made it his fault. And he was the one who had done so badly in controlling Patton’s emotions. Patton was not the one to blame.

“You’re wrong, Patton. If there’s any blame to be had, I’m the one who should get it,” Virgil said firmly, sitting up in his chair shakily. “I was the one who messed everything up when you left. Logan and Roman had a right to be mad at me, and you should be angry at me too. I fucked everything up. You don’t deserve to feel like this, dad,” Virgil continued slowly.

“Neither do you, Virgil. It is our fault, and ours alone. We had no right to treat either of you the way we did. I, personally, did it out of spite. You are not at fault, I promise,” Logan said solemnly, turning his head slightly to look at Virgil. The darker trait blinked slowly, mouth hanging open in surprise. Slowly, slowly, a gentle, open-mouthed smile formed on his lips and his eyes brimmed with tears. Patton let out a loud sniffle and half chuckle before kissing both Roman and Logan on the forehead, letting out a relieved sigh. He was about to speak when a loud sob interrupted all of them. Virgil’s head snapped over to the couch abruptly, where Thomas was still sitting. The said man was sitting on the couch with his hands balled into fists, head bowed low and his shoulders shaking with sobs.

“Thomas, are you okay?!” Roman asked in a panic, running forward and kneeling in front of his host, taking his hands in his own and looking at him in concern.

“I-I’m sorry, I…I just…I’m so glad Patton’s back!” Thomas gasped between heaving breaths and sobs, looking up at his sides, his tear-stained face filled with relief and exhaustion. Roman grinned and Patton pulled away from Logan, leaping onto the couch to wrap Thomas in a hug. Roman stayed on his knees, resting his head against Thomas’ leg as Logan sighed and walked over, getting on the other side of Thomas and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Virgil hesitantly got up and walked behind the couch, leaning down and wrapping Thomas up in a hug from behind.

“I’m sorry I left kiddo. I won’t do that to you again, I promise,” Patton whispered, pressing a kiss to Thomas’ temple and nuzzling into his shoulder. He was home at last.