#next month has some challenges of its own but will get through

[mer-se]

convinced February is the worst month of the year ✨horrendous✨ energy hahah goodbye

[charliemwrites]

Mean Simon Part 4

CW: non-descriptive panic attack, followed by comfort and gaslighting; please be safe and careful 💕

Simon’s got a bit of a puzzle on his hands. More accurately, you’re a puzzle that’s not in his hands. And getting you there, of your own free will, is only part of it.

Sure, he could just grab you or order you. You would be helpless to his will either way. It would be simple and easy, but it wouldn’t be satisfying. Not as much as coaxing you into the trap by your own volition, anyway.

Once you were just a shy thing, now you’re downright skittish. Quick to bend the knee and bow your head, but you don’t relish in doing so. Johnny has been nothing but adoring and sweet to you, yet Simon notices you still resist flinching and tensing on contact. Never mind if Simon himself were to attempt the same, you’d work yourself into hysteria over a pat to the shoulder. Seducing you would be its own challenge - but that leaves the contradictory matter of training you.

You would be so good. He knows it.

You’re quick to learn, eager to please. But it comes from a place of fear and distrust. The former has its place, the latter its natural offspring - but neither suits Simon’s purpose in this instance. Punishment and discipline would only serve to reinforce the trenches in your mind. To stay quiet and unseen, to avoid Simon at all costs and tolerate Johnny out of self-preservation. That neither of them can be trusted, are not objects for your affection or desire. Only a facsimile with a pretty face, that makes pretty noises, and soothes Johnny with pretty touches. Nothing real; nothing either of them can actually sink their teeth into.

And so there lies the puzzle. He needs (wants) to train you into the sweet doll he knows you can be, but he has to do it in a way fundamentally different to his instinct - or he risks breaking you entirely.

Luckily, he’s a patient man. Your behavior has been acceptable so far with the barest monitoring. He has time to develop a strategy.

“Um… excuse me, Mister?” you soft voice calls.

He grunts, turning his eyes to you. You shift, fingers twisting together tightly.

“I can’t, um… so there’s a light out? In the kitchen?”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“And I don’t know where the bulbs are,” you finish.

He tilts his head. “You didn’t go looking?”

You shake out your hands a bit, shifting. “I didn’t know if I, um, if I should? Snooping, and all…”

Simon tries to recall if he’s ever implied that you shouldn’t go through the house. He knows he explicitly warned you not to go in his bedroom and the garage. But you’ve inferred it somehow, likely from those first few months after he got you for Johnny - when he would have had some objection to you treating the house as if it were your own.

You’re well past that by now, though. Spend more time here than either of them, cleaning and cooking and sleeping. In fact, he’s surprised you haven’t stumbled across the bulbs sooner.

“Hall closet by my room.”

You hesitate for another moment. “And is there, um… a step stool anywhere…?”

He blinks. “No.”

“Oh. Uhh…” you jolt a bit. “Oh! I’ll just use a dining chair. Thank you! Um, sir.”

You dart away before he can reply. That’s going to be the first bad habit he breaks, he decides.

For lack of sating himself with you, Johnny’s been especially needy. Simon accounted for this, of course, and despite it being a punishment, he’s not so cruel as to leave Johnny hanging. It’s meant to be a learning experience too.

So Johnny is still allowed to cuddle with you (to some extent) and exchange kisses (in moderation) while Simon takes the edge off the ever-burning inferno that is his libido. Sniper he may be, Simon might have miscalculated regardless. He’s already touched-out for the day.

You’re in the kitchen, prepping for a nicer dinner at Simon’s request before their next deployment. It’ll take a couple hours to cook, so you’re assembling everything early. Or at least trying to - because Johnny will not leave you the fuck alone.

He’s underfoot, making a nuisance of himself. Kissing at your neck and face, wrapping himself around you while you bustle about, stealing ingredients off of cutting boards, talking in your ear nonstop. Most days you wouldn’t mind - or would appear that way, at least. But today is not most days.

Simon is sitting on a stool on the other side of the counter when you reach capacity.

With Johnny still plastered to your back, you try to reach for something (for the umpteenth time) and trip over his feet. You knock over an open carton of stock, splattering translucent brown all over the floors, counters, cabinets, and yourselves.

“Fuck,” you cry, “Johnny.”

Your voice breaks on his name. Johnny freezes. Simon can see fault lines in every inch of your stiff body. How carefully you manage each movement as you disentangle yourself from Johnny and usher him away from the worst of the mess. You’re about to fall apart.

“Och, I’m sorry, hen. Lemme help—“

“It’s alright,” you interrupt, chin low as you pivot, snagging the paper towels off the counter. “I’ve got it. Just… stay there.”

Johnny opens his mouth to protest, about to help anyway, but Simon tuts in disapproval.

The kitchen is smothered in an awful silence as you clean, Johnny growing more shame-faced with each rip of the towel roll.

Unobstructed, you manage to clean up in only a couple of minutes, making an extra pass with a damp towel to wipe up any residue. When you’re finished, you wet another and offer it to Johnny to wipe off. Then do the same for yourself. Always, you keep your face obscured or hidden, body oriented away, tight and rigid.

When you spin to gather up the dirty towels, Simon sees how your eyes glimmer. You remember he’s there too at the same time.

“Sir, I’m so sorry. I d-don’t, um…” you have to take a breath to gather your voice. “There’s not enough for dinner now.”

Simon considers that for a beat.

“Johnny’ll run out ‘n get more.”

You swallow thickly. “Okay. I’m sorry, sir.”

“‘S not your fault. Kitchen only needed one cook, yeah?”

You make a noise that, if he was hard of hearing and listening through earmuffs, could almost be agreement.

“I-I’m gonna go wash off…” you rub your hands together nervously. “If that’s alright.”

“G’on.”

You’re gone in an instant. Simon can already hear you sniffling. He stands.

Johnny turns huge, pathetic eyes on him.

“‘M sorry, Si. Really, I didn’t mean to—“

“But you did,” Simon interrupts sharply. “Because you were being a rude little shit and playing too rough.”

Johnny gulps, looks a bit misty-eyed himself. Simon sighs and scrubs an exasperated hand through his mohawk.

“Go get the stock,” he orders, milder. “And an extra treat for the sweetie. Something actually for her. Understood?”

Johnny always does better with clear instructions. He perks up at being given a mission - and an avenue for making things up to you. He hurries off with a pep in his step.

Simon waits until the door is shut before seeking you out. You’re in the bathroom, as you said you would be. He can hear you muffling cries behind the door.

He taps his knuckles twice against the wood. It goes dead silent.

“Jus’ me,” he calls.

There’s a quick splash of water, the flutter of fabric, and then you crack the door open. Your face is cry-flushed, eyes red-rimmed and still glossy. You can’t look past his chest, mouth curved down.

“I-I’m really sorry about the-the mess, and dinner, and…”

“Stop apologizing,” he says, gentling his voice to take the edge off the command. “If there was something to be sorry for, you’d know.”

You swipe quickly at a tear that squeezes out. He tsks softly.

“Bit strung out today, eh?”

“Just… didn’t sleep well, is all,” you answer. “And I didn’t get a chance to nap.”

Right, he’s noted that, in the back of his mind. That you spend small portions of the day sleeping. Usually an hour or two at a time. But Johnny’s been so high maintenance today that you’ve hardly had a moment of peace.

“Cranky? Is that it?” he asks.

You look more miserable. “Just tired,” you answer.

He hums. Willing to bet it’s more than just a bad night of sleep. Poor thing.

“Sor - I mean… I know I’m not supposed to…” you rub at your eyes, drooping.

He tilts his head. “Not s’posed to what?”

“Cry or-or be annoying or…”

He coos. “You’ve got all these rules for yourself, don’t you?”

You sniffle again, hugging yourself tightly as you shrug.

The hunter in Simon perks. There.

“Look’it.” He takes your chin between thumb and forefinger, guiding your gaze up to his.

You blink slowly, heavily, wet lashes sticking together.

“What sort of terrible world have you built up in your mind, hm?” he soothes. “Never told you not to do any of that, did I?”

You blink, confused and upset.

“N-no, I guess… not.”

“No,” he confirms. “You’re spun up so tight you’re starting to fray, little one.”

You shudder, swaying into him a bit. He used the movement to slide his hand to your jaw, massaging his thumb into the tight muscle by your ear.

“From now on, you only follow the rules I give you, yeah?” he says, low and quiet. “Dunno why you think I’m so mean. I won’t punish you if you don’t know better.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, as if trying to resist the hypnotic lull of letting someone else think for you. But you still lean into his palm.

“How’s this,” he offers, “if you’re ever unsure, you ask me. Wont get mad at you for asking. Yeah?”

And finally, that wire twisted up between your shoulder blades loosens.

“Yes, sir.”

Johnny comes home with a chocolate cupcake. Simon approves it before sending him to you, decompressing on the couch with a cuppa.

You blink as Johnny drops heavily to his knees, placing the packaged cupcake in your hand.

“Lass, I’m sorry for bein’ so rough,” he begins, bowing his forehead to your knees. “Dinnae mean to, but I still upset ye, interrupted dinner when ye were workin’ so hard.” He tilts his face up, hitting you with the full force of his apologetic blue eyes. “Forgive me?”

You mouth parts, genuine shock washing over your features. “Y-yeah, Johnny, of course. I know you didn’t mean to. I was just having a bad day.”

But that doesn’t mollify him.

“I couldnae tell. You were just… goin’ on as usual.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

You set your tea aside to place your hand over his, trying to reassure him. But Simon knows his pup and you’ve just unwittingly put a thorn in his paw.

“I’ll get back to dinner now.” You lean in, drop a kiss to Johnny’s furrowed brow. “Thank you for apologizing. And the cupcake.”

Johnny stands with you. “At least let me help proper this time?”

You smile, though it’s tinged with exhaustion. “Sure. C’mon.”

Simon takes his place at the counter again and keeps a careful eye on you both. Things are a lot smoother this time round. Johnny follows your quiet instructions, happy to be useful. You seem to settle with dinner plans back on track.

Once everything is set to slow cook, Simon herds you and Johnny back to the den.

“Pick a movie, lamb.”

You blink from the corner of the couch you’ve curled up in. “Me?”

“You.”

You seem so surprised that you just blurt out a title. Simon hums and queues it up while Johnny all but interrogates you for the plot. As the opening scenes flicker across the screen, you snuggle in further, even tugging a blanket off the back of the couch to bundle up on.

Johnny shoots you a longing look - you’re too engrossed in the movie - so Simon snags him by the back of the neck and tucks him into his side.

You fall asleep two-thirds of the way through, but Simon lets you. Likes watching you breathe, face soft and smooth. Can’t for the life of him even recall what’s on the telly.

That night, after a quiet (but peaceful) dinner, and everyone’s showers, Simon ushers Johnny to the room he usually shares with you. Hope flickers across the pup’s face, confusion and trepidation across yours.

“In the middle, Johnny,” Simon rumbles. “The little one by the window.”

You and Johnny comply, cuddling in. Simon takes the side closest to the door, grunting a bit when Johnny instantly clings on.

“Is this the new arrangement?” Johnny asks eagerly.

“Go to sleep,” Simon answers.

He grumbles, but settles in. On the other side of the bed, there’s a bit of shuffling. Then your voice whispering, “Good night.”

[yaut-jaknowit]

How about high tension between a male yautja and human. Where one gets drunk and finally yells that they want to fuck them already.

Tensions Run High

Pairing: Icheall-Dua (male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2555

Summary: It was at a gathering for Yautjas and humans alike on a different planet than Yautja Prime. You had been constantly trying to hit up Icheall-Dua and he couldn’t get the idea! So, one night, during a feast of celebration that Icheall-Dua was going to become leader of the clan, you get drunk. A very bad thing. You have loose lips. When you tried again with Icheall-Dua and he doesn’t get it again, you straight up yell it in front of the clan.  

Author Note: I realized this has taken me two months to get to. Sorry that production has slowed down. I've been grinding away at my game. Also, I didn't know if you wanted spicy or not, so I decided to leave it out just encase. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Ao3

Sonorous voices that boomed across the clearing filled the air. Joyous in nature. Prideful for the years to come. Every rise and fall of the suns to bring a life and challenges to the clan. You held up a cup of a drink that was considered alcohol. Between a Yautja and human mixture of potent alcohol, deluded for yourself.

It reminded you of whiskey with the slight burn with each sip you took. A drink not meant for shots. Rather just to take sips here and there. It’ll still knock you on your ass three drinks later. So, you took your time to consume the interesting taste of the smokey concoction.

Despite living among the predators of the universe and showing we are equals rather than enemies, the two species have come together. Some clans as you’ve heard are more reluctant, or rather downright say no, to allowing humans into their ranks.

Others, like the one you live in, are more accepting if you pull your own. You will not be babied. If you die, you die. A kill or be killed world on this planet. This isn’t even Yautja Prime. Yet, its dangers rival Yautja Prime.

You breathed in the marshes stagnant air. Though the division is still evident; Yautjas with Yautjas and humans with humans, you couldn’t help but find yourself drawn to Icheall-Dua. Marsh green and cream bellied. His scales are basic compared to those you’ve seen throughout your time through a few clans.

What Icheall-Dua lacks in different physical aspects, he makes up in his skills. From the words whispered amongst the clan, he’s a prodigy. He’s the next best thing. A male anyone would kill to be but could never get to his level. Yet, no matter how many times you try to send the right signals in Icheall-Dua’s direction, he doesn’t see it! The skulls, the meat, the Yautja way of courting!

Weeks of research were put into this before you attempted the first time. It should’ve been clear as a peacock spreading its tail feathers. No though. He accepted the gifts but never said anything after that.

At first, you drew back to ensure what you read was correct. Skulls of creatures are the first step. You did just that. Yeah, it wasn’t the dangerous creature on this planet but it nearly killed you! His obliviousness didn’t deter you though. You took a slow sip of your drink again, eyes sliding over to the beast that filled your thoughts.

A large cup filled with a similar concoction to your own was cupped in one of his large hands. Two of three fingers missing on that hand. You knew there was harrowing story to explain what happened. A story you would love to listen to with his deep, grating voice. The sound crunchy like stepping on a gravel road. Another sip downed the rest of the liquid.

With a sigh, you stepped around the larger species that filled the space to the bar tender. A night like this was to be celebrated with alcohol always being included.

After living around these guys for a quarter of your life time, you have learned it’s best to slip between them. Some will shift their weight allow you easier access around them. Yet, many have the mindset not to move for anything. You’ve learned to be slippery rather than it becoming a dick measuring contest. Not submission but avoiding unnecessary fighting. Why get wounded if it all could be avoided? Somethings in this culture you’ll never come to understand.

Once you reached the bar tender again, you set your empty glass on the counter and tapped twice. Ci’tha grunted and immediately got to work. Your drink was set in front of you with a tangy tasting fruit on the rim. You thanked the yellow based Yautja with a dip of your head then leaned against the count with your back to it. People watching.

Other humans were amongst the crowd, mingling with mainly other humans. Only a select few were chatting away with the friendlier Yautjas in the clan. None of them dared to go close to Icheall-Dua nor his father who had a permanent scowl etched into his worn features. A life lived through the ways of a Yautja of hunting and gaining scars along the way.

Icheall-Dua went to sip at his cup only to find it empty and shook his cup. You instantly noticed and spun around to face Ci’tha. “Do you remember what Icheall-Dua is having?” you rushed out and jerked your head over towards Icheall-Dua direction. The poor yellow Yautja jolted at the sudden move then glared at you. You sheepishly smiled an apology at him.

Ci’tha rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I do. Why?” he grunted and raised a brow at you.

“Can you make it? Yautja sized?” you sweetly asked the lanky Yautja who stood in your way of impressing Icheall-Dua some more. Though, the two of you didn’t talk on the regular, he could see what was happening. He rolled his blue eyes again before got to work.

The large mug was set before you. You threw a thanks towards Ci’tha before snatching it racing through the sea of bodies. At points, you nearly shoved your way through but reframed from starting a fight. All you had was a mug and a small knife not long enough to hit anything important on a Yautja.

After breeching the main crowd of people, you were able to make your way up to Icheall-Dua standing in all of his glory. His father only a couple of steps away from him, speaking to another Yautja. Icheall-Dua, himself, was crowd watching until you stopped before him.

“Hello… I saw your cup was empty and retrieved one for you,” you spoke up and presented the cup to him. His sky blue eyes looked down upon over the jut of his small snout. Icheall-Dua blinked slowly in boredom, gaze glancing to the cup in your hand.

He reached out and took it. A critical eye peered and inspected the contents. You gnawed on your bottom lip, in hopes he would accept the drink but nothing else was working. Maybe a drink would win him over.

The Yautja raised his shoulders in a shrug and gulped from the cup. You silently cheered to yourself, praying this was him finally noticing your advances towards him.

Next to him, Zutouh, his father, leaned over and scoffed at you. It didn’t deter you though. Through his one good eye, he analyzed you. Not all Yautjas still accept humans into their ranks. The older generations such as Zutouh are part of that. You’re used to it at this point, even dealing with clans who would kill you on sight.

“Great party,” you tried to start small talk in hopes to get Icheall-Dua to open up a little more. “What’s it for?” A closed mouth smile was directed towards Icheall-Dua.

Icheall-Dua kept his nonchalant expression plastered to his face. “I’m becoming the clan leader,” he stated as if it was an everyday thing. You tensed up mid sip of your drink, eyes darting over to his marsh green hide.

Well yeah. Zutouh is his father and the clan leader. Yet, each Yautja usually has a bunch of children. You didn’t know Icheall-Dua was next in line to ascend the throne. By Paya’s grace, you truly didn’t stand a chance against any of the females who would flock to him. Clan leader got you lots of perks. A title Icheall-Dua had to have earned out of all of his siblings.

“That’s amazing! Are you excited?” you kept up with the small talk, using questions to get answers from him. You gulped down a mouthful of your drink again as it started to affect your mind and rational thinking. “Of course, a male such as yourself with that physique definitely deserves that position.”

Drunk words were sober thoughts.

Alcohol gave you loose lips.

Zutouh snorted and shook his massive head in disbelief. You didn’t care though. What you said was true. Icheall-Dua was built well, the prodigy everyone saw him as.

One of his upper manibles quirked up for less than a second yet you caught it. “This is my destiny.” His answer short, barely even sweet. You nearly deflated at that but an idea came to him.

“Well, does your destiny have me included in it?” you flirted with him again like all the times before. You hoped he would finally get the big picture you were waving in front of him.

This caught Icheall-Dua off guard. The Yautja nearly choked on his drink you graciously provided for him and snapped his gaze to you. Hope flickered in your eyes as you noticed you had more of his attention on you. His hand tightened on his cup, claws slightly scraping across the glass wear.

Except, it all faded away when he pulled back that nonchalant expression and shrugged again. You could almost scream at him for that. Your nose flared with a snort, lips pressed tightly into a line. The alcohol in your system not helping one bit. A near glare was settled on the stupid marsh colored Yautja who you’ve pinned for the last few months.

Like a volcano, there’s only so much you could hold in.

“For the love of everything unholy, I want to fuck you!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, fire blazing in your veins while you stared this male down. “I’ve been trying for months the Yautja way to get your attention. And-and nothing! You hadn’t acknowledge my attempts or even told me to stop! I don’t know what I can do anymore.”

It all came out. Ranitng out your horrible experience trying to court a Yautja their way. All this research was false, wrong. It led you on for months and left you to feel this angry… in front of a crowd.

Your shoulders heaved with each lungful breath. The crowd around you had gone silence due to your shouting. The realization struck you, dosing you in freezing cold water. Your shoulders tensed up, eyes wide, glued to the spot. Nothing could make you move until Icheall-Dua took a step towards you.

Then, you spun on your tail and darted between humans and Yautja alike, a stumbling, drunk mess. They didn’t part for you, even when you ran into them but when a shadow gave chase, they instantly let him through. Your arm was snatched in a vice grip that would bruise tomorrow. Heat slammed into your chest, forcing you to pressed to his torso. Tears pooled the lips of your eyes as you looked everywhere but him. You couldn’t see the rage of you interrupting his celebration, of you ruining the night with this silly crush.

Your entire jaw was swallowed up by a hand and forcefully tilted your head back. Through blurry tears, you find his blue eyes on you.

“Say that again,” he demanded with a voice he used to lead. You tried to struggle against him, nearly turning your head enough to bite his fingers. Nothing worked to get him off of you. Icheall-Dua easily far stronger in close quarters… yet, you didn’t want to hurt him anyhow.

“Why? So you can embarrass me in front of everyone. Show everyone how much of a fool I was? To think I had a chance with you?” you snarled then paused for a pregnant moment. He squeezed his hand tighter on your jaw in a short warning. Icheall-Dua wasn’t one to be around humans often, he didn’t understand their fragileness. “Should’ve brushed me off the first time I gifted you a skull.”

None of this would be happening if he had.

“And why would I do that? I was following the advice given to me by your fellow humans for your courting rituals.” If he didn’t have such a tight grip, you would’ve jerked your head back. Instead, you raised your brows instead.

He was following dating advice… What had they told him? Also, dating?! Your heart started to thump loudly in your ears, like war drums. He had gone out of his way to ask for advice.

A lump in your throat made it hard to speak. “What, what was the advice?” you questioned and untensed your muscles. The Yautja responded by easing up his grasp on your jaw and wrist. Icheall-Dua didn’t let you go fully though. Not that you could outrun a Yautja in the first place.

His gaze deviated over to a group of humans who were staring the two of you down. Everyone part of the party was. “Samual said to ‘play hard to get’. It get’s people needy.” Oh, you were going to kill Samual when you had the chance. All these months of torture because that dumbass told him horrible advice.

You couldn’t help the breath of relief that escaped your lungs. Then, you began to laugh and shook in his hold. “That’s the worst advice anyone could give you. No, ‘playing hard to get’ is the worst way to show someone you’re into them.” Your laughter died down. “And I thought my research was a fraud when you didn’t react to any of the gifts I gave you.”

Icheall-Dua growled lowly in his chest and spread his mandibles in a display towards the humans. The group jolted and instantly scrambled away to be hidden away in the crowd. With them gone, he returned his attention back on you. “You did well and everything right. I apologize I wasn’t properly conveying my feelings towards you. Will you forgive me?”

All that tension in your shoulders you’ve been holding for months finally fell off. “Yes, yes. I forgive you and whatever stupid advice Samual gave you. I would say to do research but… that has also bad information as well.” His hand on your wrist released you to cup your waist. Goosebumps immediately rose on your arms. A tingle running down your spine.

“And what were you saying early? If my memory serves correct: you want to fuck me?” Oh god, he just had to bring that up! Heat instantly rushed your cheeks.

“That’s-that’s just the alcohol talking. I’m drunk. Had some drinks… I don’t know what you mean,” you did everything in your power to get him off of that.

“Daring little thing,” he mused and ran his thumb claw across your lips. Just a little more pressure and he could slice the feeble skin apart. “Taking more than they can chew.” You knew you had chosen right. He was still going to fuck with you though.

He leaned down so only the next words were spoken directly at you. “Once this party ends, would you like to start the night back in my tent?” he whispered. Your brain blanked. Not a single thought entered your mind for a long, unknown amount of time.

When some of the fog cleared, you rapidly nodded your head, eager. “My naughty little ooman.” He returned to his full towering height and offered his hand to you. “Come along, I know of seat you wouldn’t want to leave.”

Curses filled your head, the only thing to make sense in your fray of mental words to yourself. The things you could do to him.

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

What Needs Your Attention Right Now? Pick A Pile

Feeing inspired, so just wanted to try something new. Hope you all like it!

PILE 1 - Calm Down. Focus on a higher cause. Resting and Rejuvenation.

So for this group, its time for you to rest that head of yours. How can you move forward if your mind isn't well rested? Think before you speak, and learn to be quiet more. Any intrusive thoughts you might be having are asking for a creative outlet. So go slow. Take your time, and just breathe. For this group, spending time in nature or fully taking in the time to meditate is a primary focus you guys should get into at this time.

Chakra that needs work: Root Chakra. You need to stay grounded and start writing down your thoughts in a notebook. Healing any old issues could come through from the power of writing. Depressive thoughts could be something worth noting with this group, however I see going outside and getting some fresh air takes some of the pressure from low emotions you're feeling off of you a bit. For more ways to ground, try putting your feet in the grass, it helps stimulate the body. In the morning, find something to calm and relax the mind, maybe soft music? Make sure to stretch when you wake up to stimulate to brain. Overall, for this group you need to be patient and let things run its course.

PILE 2 - Letting go brings great success. Goals & Dreams. Focusing on the Higher Path.

So this group needs to put a little more energy into their goals! Brain fog might be significant for this group and this could be causing uncertainty in what you want for yourself. You have the power to receive what it is you want. The power is in your mind. You must know that it is yours, and on a mental scale challenging your brain to do more and feel more deserving of your goals will strengthen you in the end. Ever heard of fake it til you make it? You never know until you try.

Chakra that needs work: Third Eye + Solar Plexus

Work out. Work out. Work it Out! Put some more work in exercising those muscles. Working out the body helps the brain work harder to fight of anything that keeps it from focusing, and you need all the energy you can get to master those goals of yours. Perception is another focus for this group, trying making a plan for yourself and what you see for the next 5 years or so, k? This will help with visualization skills in the future. Speaking of visualization, try making a vision board and keeping it somewhere you can see everyday! Something about your goals are important and need some heavy lifting. Remember all seeds grow at their own pace, so just because you don't see anything after a week, a month, yr, etc doesn't mean its not moving. The garden you create has its own tempo at the end of the day. ;)

PILE 3 - Following Your Destiny. A Higher Calling.

Soul Purpose. Your mission is coming up and its moving out everything thats been in the way. You have to move forward with what your spirit wants from you, as your destiny is more important than you realize. Be thankful for the past, and move higher into the present. Take a deep breathe and forge through the challenges and obstacles that we're standing in your way and lead to a higher destination. You've been brought here for something significant, but do you know that? Take time to listen to your intuition and focus on what is asked of you at this time.

Chakra that needs work : Heart Chakra

So this chakra is in control of your higher purpose. You need love to bring it all into fruition. Let this passion for something deeper burn in you so that you can heal any troubles from the past, as this could have blocked you from knowing what it is you desire. Be more open to enjoying life as is, because this group is suppose to live life on edge. And you are meant to be leading your life with the power of the infinite, which brings it all back to love. Hope this helps !

[lovings4turn]

☆ strange twist of fate . . . (o.p)

— a simple video shoot for mclaren leads to a lot of previously unexplored feelings about your teammate (2.3k)

+ fully inspired by mclaren’s summer games video, it is my fav thing ever at the moment. nothing stirs up some tension like a game of twister, right?

+ contains very subtle suggestive references. like. one or two sexual jokes. likely not very accurate oscar but, oh well. banner and divider from cafekitsune

the blinking red light of the camera in front of you indicates you’ve started rolling, and second nature (also known as years of media training) causes you to perk up a little as oscar begins to speak. even from his mannerisms, you can tell that he’s gotten far more confident being in front of the camera with you, the two of you building up a comfortable dynamic that you could stick to pretty well.

“alright.” oscar claps his hands together, shifting his weight back onto his right foot. the movement positions him just a little closer to you, his arm brushing against yours briefly. the hairs on your arms stand up in its wake, and oscar runs through the introduction of the video the media team has asked him to deliver.

“so, we’ve got some garden games,” he explains, voice dripping with faux enthusiasm as he turns to you with a coy smile.

the look generates a similar grin from you, something that usually happens when you’re in close proximity to oscar. not wanting to overthink it, you chalk it down to simple nerves. after all, you’ve only been teammates with oscar for six months. despite growing closer to him, it’s no surprise that your body continues to opt for bashful smiles over formulating a proper response.

surely everyone forgets how to speak to their coworker sometimes?

seemingly unaware of your internal monologue, oscar proceeds with his own conversation to the camera, eyes scanning the room and surveying the three games that have been set up for the two of you to play.

“we’ve got twister,” he notes, his accent thick as it wraps around the letters of the word. you ignore the way your brain plays the sound over again, an echo only you can hear. “and some limbo later, then jenga to finish it all off.”

if you weren’t too busy staring at the large, inflatable limbo bar in the corner, you would notice oscar’s eyebrows briefly jump at the sight of the twister mat. the dial sitting next to it on the floor reminds him of just what the game entails, and he swallows thickly.

deciding you should probably make an effort to speak at some point, you fake frustration and cross your arms over your chest.

“i’m pretty sure oscar’s beaten me in every other video we’ve done this year,” you begin, but you’re cut off.

“no, you won the uh- the lie detector thingy,” oscar points out.

it’s true. though you had somehow managed to get through the lie detector challenge receiving only one shock, oscar had absolutely crushed you at the ‘yes/no’ challenge, and managed to beat you in ‘hide and seek’ by somehow procuring the most effective hiding spot in the entire paddock. you don’t even want to remember just how badly you had done answering questions from the british driving theory test. 

keeping up the act, you roll your eyes and dismiss him with a wave of your arm. “okay, like, 7-1 then.”

at the sound of oscar’s high pitched chuckle, your face immediately cracks into a grin. it’s as though oscar’s laugh is programmed to make you smile no matter the circumstances, carrying some secret code that rearranges the chemicals in your brain — totally platonically, of course. you tell yourself that he’s just one of those people with infectious laughs, destined to make others join in their delight. 

“brilliant!” the director objects, a grin plastered onto her face as the camera cuts, signalling the end of filming for this segment. “that was perfect guys, thanks. if you wanna get ready for the first game for us.”

taking a deep breath, you nod and stride over to your first activity: twister.

similar to the motions you see oscar go through before every race, you make a show of stretching out your arms and neck with exaggerated groans, even shaking out your legs and performing a few deep lunges for good measure.

“just warming myself up,” you joke. “good thing i’m pretty flexible.”

“yeah? i’ll put that to the test, then,” oscar quips, clearly not realising that what he said could be taken in an entirely different way, a way that certainly doesn’t come to your mind the moment the words leave his mouth.

distracting yourself from his accidental innuendo, you move to one corner of the mat and watch oscar spin the dial for you, the pointer whirring around before landing on left hand red. you crouch down immediately and plant your hand onto one of the red dots, tilting your head to look up at oscar. it seems he was already looking, though, a small smile across his face as he rests his hands on his hips.

“your turn, oscar. you’re starting from the other side though,” you laugh, pointing over to the opposite side of the mat to you. “get over there.”

with a mock salute, oscar strides over to the opposing side of the twister mat, eyes locked onto you as he waits for you to spin the dial and administer his fate.

the game progresses as well as you could have imagined, the constant laughter between you two causing your bodies to shake and thus making holding yourself up a lot harder than it should have been. due to the increasingly awkward positions you find yourselves in, a mclaren team member has to step in at one point to spin the dial for you both since you’ve been rendered useless.

at one point, oscar groans softly at his latest instruction which leaves his body uncomfortably contorted. lip between his teeth, he stretches over to place his hand onto the green spot just across from you, granting you with the - undeniably enjoyable - sight of oscar’s toned arm inches away from your face. your eyes trace over the veins that protrude from his arms, splintering like lightning underneath his lightly tanned skin, practically begging your gaze to follow their path. 

having your insanely attractive coworker almost hovering over you as he pants and curses was definitely doing nothing to help you keep your focus on the content you were filming, and you prayed to any and every higher being that no one would be able to notice just how flustered you were becoming. you could see the twitter threads and youtube compilations now – y/n y/l/n being flustered for two minutes straight, y/n swooning over oscar, and whatever else the eagle eyed fans could create.

whoever at mclaren had suggested the two of you play twister was going to fucking pay.

you’re thankful when oscar speaks, dragging you away from whatever train of thought you had found yourself following.

“ah, what a stitch up that is!” oscar complains, letting out a few short breaths as he attempts to shuffle his body into a position that is easier to maintain. 

in return, you scoff, craning your neck to look at him with indignation.

“are you joking? i’m practically doing the fucking splits, oscar!” you object, nodding down towards your legs which are, to your credit - spread across the length of the twister mat in a way that isn’t entirely pleasant.

“guess the flexibility isn’t working out for you then?” oscar quips dryly. over the past few months you’d become accustomed to his more sarcastic, low-key humour, so it’s no surprise when a short laugh escapes your lips despite your current predicament.

a few more rounds pass without a hitch, but you should have known that fate would not be on your side for too long

“left foot yellow,” someone calls, and oscar looks down towards the mat you’re both occupying.

realisation dawns on you both at exactly the same time: the only free yellow spot lands directly between your legs.

“we can’t be on the- on the same sticker, can we?” oscar asks, voice fragmented through his breathy laughter as he tries to manoeuvre his body into a more comfortable position.

despite the way your heart pounds, you’re laughing too, shaking your head in what could be a gesture of amusement or admonishment depending on who you asked. though you should feel a little bad, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of oscar searching for every possible movement he can make, short groans and puffs of breath escaping his lips at the exertion. in an effort to prevent your mind from wandering further at the sound, you focus instead on the budding ache growing in your arms thanks to minutes of holding your body up in an unnatural position.

it’s no use, though. there’s only one spot he can logically move to. 

“oscar, you are not putting your leg there,” you protest, looking up at him with your brows furrowed. your voice becomes almost pleading despite the mirth in your tone. “oscar. oscar, call it quits.”

a flash of contemplation dances behind his eyes as he weighs up just how determined he is to win a trivial game of twister. at his hesitation, your palms grow clammy at the thought of oscar being even closer to you than he is now, and you’re scared that you’ll start to slip off of the mat if your mind doesn’t stop.

“does it have to be that one?” he asks, looking to the team behind the camera for confirmation.

amused, they simply nod, stifling their laughs with tight lipped grins. oscar takes another moment to figure out his next move before he lets out a groan, collapsing onto the twister mat with a breathy laugh. “there, i’m done. we’re done.”

victorious, you relieve your limbs of the strain they are currently feeling and flop down onto the mat yourself, raising your arms up in celebration as you grin widely at the camera.

“that’s one for me!” you shout, looking down to oscar so you can rub your victory in his face.

still on his back, you notice his eyes have fluttered shut and his chest rises and falls quickly as he catches his breath, cheeks flushed from the exertion. if the garish colours of the twister mat were not directly beneath him, you could almost allow yourself to imagine another, less innocent activity was the explanation for his fatigue.

taking a few moments to catch your breath, the two of you sit on the mat in a comfortable silence before oscar forces himself up, offering you a hand and helping you to your feet carefully.

the universe must have taken pity on you, as the rest of the video thankfully progresses with little problem at all. limbo is no contact at all, and being shorter than oscar gives you even more of an advantage, to his chagrin. your downfall is suggesting that your final round - jenga - be ‘winner takes all’. 

lesson learned: never underestimate oscar piastri’s jenga skills. 

overall, the shoot itself lasts maybe half an hour before you’re quickly dismissed by the camera crew, free to do whatever you please for the next few hours before more media duties call your name. it makes sense for you both to walk back through the paddock together, so that’s exactly what you do.

a comfortable silence blankets you both for a minute or so, before oscar speaks. 

“so,” he starts. though there’s an easy smile on his face, you can’t help but note a subtle hint of nerves in his voice. it’s a realisation that scares you a little. 

oscar had never really been nervous to speak to you. a little awkward, when you first met, sure, but his tone had never been laced with anxiety. 

you’ve made him uncomfortable, you worry. he noticed how you were looking at him during the video, noticed you were staring. fuck, fuck, fuck. you’ve ruined it.

“so,” you return, resisting the urge to wring your hands together like a chastised school pupil. “that was uh, an interesting idea, from mclaren. making us play twister.”

oscar nods and wets his lips. he seems to be weighing up his response carefully, and you brace yourself for whatever accusations he’s about to throw your way.

“yeah,” he agrees. “fun, though. think i definitely would have won, if you didn’t make me call it quits,” he teases, knocking his shoulder against yours. the unexpected movement causes you to stumble, and you laugh indignantly before shoving him back.

“what was i supposed to do?” you counter. your fingertips begin to tingle, heart beating a little faster as his words involuntarily bring to mind the memory of his body so close to your own. 

a cheeky grin rises to oscar’s lips, and though he shrugs, his next words are anything but casual.

“i don’t think you would have minded having me in between your legs.”

shock renders your mind blank as you scramble to come up with some sort of response. how are you even supposed to respond to that? deny it? make a joke out of it? brush over it and roll your eyes at him? nothing seems to be an appropriate response.

it seems oscar is enjoying your dumbfounded state, and if you weren’t floundering so much you would kill him for how much he was enjoying your misfortune.

“what do you mean?”

stupid.

like the little shit he is, oscar only shrugs again.

“just an observation,” he hums, coming to a stop outside of his driver’s room. though you think running away from the conversation seems a little juvenile, your hand hovers over the doorknob of your own room.

before he slips through the door frame, he speaks once more, crooked grin forming the words that would send you reeling for the rest of the day. 

“i wouldn’t have minded it, either.”

[abbadonandhisparadise]

Realizin’ Au Cato Catacombs Lore

@realizinau get ready for some lore. > :>

THIS JUST APPLIES TO THIS AU

Cato got an easy life in the Realizin’ AU even if she doesn't remember who she was before, despise this not everything is as it seen Cato will bottle up her emotions if she needs to cry or scream, she will do it where nobody can hear or see her. 

She is still kind of a suck up with the scientist but is not afraid to use her gas against them if an employ goes missing there a possibility that Cato ‘deal’ with them, Cato take her role of Big Sister extreme serious something her love will get annoying even suffocating but she really cares about them and their well-being more that her own. 

The Wisteria Gas 

The blue wisteria gas was created as a less potent Poppy gas made to for the children to feel relax during the medical exams and in large doses it works as anesthesia. 

How is this extract? Easy!

The experiment is carried out to a special chamber and scientists place three specialized needles on the subject's back that suck the gas until the necessary amount is obtained. Gas can be stored in tanks "unfortunately" no, it must always be fresh, as they say: "The best batch is always fresh from the source"

Staff Reports

Cato and Candy Cat  

Experiment ████ and ████ have begun to form a strange bond. Observations implied a greater bond with ████ than with the Critters, and measurements were taken and ████'s mobility along with its larynx was eliminated. 

████ believes that ████ has abandoned them, the staff has returned the now motionless ████ to ████ as a 'gift', their bond has been successfully broken, ████ suspects nothing. 

Overwork

Experiment ████ has been subjected to hard labor for the past few months as punishment for disobedience, ████ is handling it with difficulty, but they should get used to it in time since they are old enough to know the consequences of going against staff rules. 

After more weeks of observation and some bribery from the staff, ████ has started working with fewer challenges, but their attitude hasn't changed much. The superiors ask us to make ████ an example for other toys in disobedience. 

Changes in behavior 

After ████'s isolation for more than a week, their behavior has changed drastically, superiors praise the change, this will be considered for the future. 

████'s first instinct was to run into 1222's arms for comfort, even if 1222 wasn't even close, we fear that ████ is creating another bond with the other experiments and not the other critters like they should, we are trying to bring 1188 closer and ████ without success. 

A month ago, ████ were missing, 1188 reported that they had "fallen" through a hole in the ground, when the other critters where asked they refused to answer. We suspect that 1188 did something to ████ but we have no evidence other than that the two experiments have a strange relationship. 

Experiment #1006 came to us this morning holding ████ in their claws, The doctor explains 1006 took care of ████ while missing in the darkest part of the factory. 

The higher ups have put Harley Sawyer in charge of the next experiments. 

Project re-introduction  

Experiment #1188  

Tag: Playcare.  

After the last incident within Home Sweet Home between Experiment 1188 and ████ and even having to involve Experiment #1006 we are to take drastic measures. 

Notes 

- ████ has been keep away from Home sweet Home, 1188 haven't shown any worry yet.  

- Three week have passed the critters are starting to ask updates about ████. 

- 1188 is showing sign of distress, the other have started to beg for 1188 to act and look for ████. 

- Anguish has filled 1188's mind, ████ will be return to Home sweet Home late night. 

Analysis We have found fear is the best way to make the experiments bond, as 1188 and ████ relation has better itself but of course this is not without its consequences, in the end Project re-introduction serve its purpose. 

[puddingcatbeans]

timkon; kon has a peculiar cuddling habit.

It takes Tim two months to notice. It's not his fault though—his team has always been very tactile, and they've made it their ongoing mission to cure Tim of his touch starvation. Kon is probably next on the list for touch-starved-ness, but he takes to cuddling like it's a challenge, and everyone knows how much Kon likes winning challenges.

So it's not unusual for Tim and Kon to be seen sitting practically on top of each other when they're hanging out at the Tower, at the farm, in Tim's apartment. Bart has started calling them "TimKon" for their buy-one-get-one package deal, and Cassie is still gloating about winning the betting pool for when they'd finally get together. Their lives are filled with violence and crises and teenage angst, they should get some points for choosing cuddling a coping mechanism instead of the myriad other methods their peers and mentors have chosen (cough Bruce and his adoption addiction cough).

And the thing is, Kon is very comfortable, okay? His very defined muscles make for a very nice pillow. And he gives the best hugs, probably only second to Dick's patented Big Bro Hugs™. So Tim maybe falls into a trance every time they fall into each other. It's not his fault.

But eventually, he starts to notice it.

It's subtle, really; innocent, as much as their relationship goes. Neither of them are super interested in sex. They've fooled around a few times before, because, well, teenage hormones. And it's nice, but they both agree that they much prefer falling asleep together more than sleeping together. So Tim knows it's not that. But once he starts noticing, he can't un-notice.

When they're sitting together on the couch, each doing their own thing: Kon catching up on the latest tv serial Gar's got him hooked on, one around slung around Tim's waist, and Tim tapping away at his tablet, most of his weight against his boyfriend. Said boyfriend's hand would slip under the hem of Tim's shirt, and then his thumb would absentmindedly be stroking back and forth along the skin just above Tim's hipbone.

When they're napping together after a long debriefing session, on their sides with Tim as the little spoon: Kon, plastered to Tim's back, would worm a hand under his sleep shirt and press his palm against the flat of Tim's belly. Not moving, not doing anything but holding him there.

When they're all piled up on the sofa for movie nights with the team, Tim sitting in the V of Kon's legs: Kon would hook his chin over Tim's shoulder, and his hand would dip under the collar of Tim's borrowed hoodie, and just stay there. His calloused fingers lingering on Tim's bare shoulder, thumb resting against Tim's collarbone.

Tim could chalk it up to just Kon seeking physical affection, or maybe this is just one of the quirks of being Kon's significant other. He doesn't mind, not really—how can he, when he feels so wanted? But he can't help but be curious.

They're in Kon's room, the soft murmur of the Kents downstairs and the early evening autumn breeze floating in through the open window. Kon has his back against the headboard, with Tim sitting in his lap. Tim is half-asleep, lulled by the rhythmic movement of Kon's hand on his back, under his shirt.

"Why do you do that?" Tim mumbles into Kon's shirt.

"Do what?"

Tim shrugs his shoulders—or tries to. He ends up just kind of wiggling in place. "That," he says. "Your hands. Whenever we cuddle, you always go under my clothes."

Kon stiffens, his hand freezing on Tim's shoulder blade. "Do you not like it? Sorry, I should've asked—"

"No, no." Tim shakes his head, shoving his forehead against Kon's neck. "It's, um. It's nice. I like it. I'm just wondering."

He feels more than hears Kon's sigh of relief. The hand at his back resumes its sweeping motions. Kon's chin lands on Tim's head, nuzzling a little. "It's not... There's no particular reason," Kon says. "You know how I run a little colder because I'm half-Kryptonian? Well, your natural body heat feels really good. Like, reassuring. I don't know. Lights up my dopamine centers or something?"

Tim pulls back. "Are you saying I'm your Tim-shaped hot water bottle?"

Kon blinks at him. Then a grin spreads across his face. "And you're just the perfect size, too!"

Huffing Tim pinches Kon. It probably doesn't even tickle, but Kon pretends to dodge, anyway. He's sweet like that. Tim leans forwards to bury his face into the crook of Kon's neck again. He tugs at Kon's shirt until he can worm his own arms under and slide his palms up Kon's skin.

Kon makes a soft sound. He curls around Tim, squeezing him gently. They stay like that, tangled together, breaths and heartbeats in sync, until Ma eventually calls them down for dinner.

[asingleietsist]

"A Green Queen" AU

Chapter III

The sun began to peak its face through the green hills. The citizens of the Mushroom kingdom were setting up their shops and food carts as they greeted each other at the start of a new day.

The Princess was up early, she wanted to get a bit of peace before tending to the problems and concerns of her citizens.

Peach headed down the hall, hesitantly moving forward as she heard a loud clang come from behind a set of large doors. She slowly pushed it open, only to see a silhouette in the quiet, dark room. "Mario?", She whispered.

She flicked the lights on to see a bulletin board full of photos pinned with red lines. Horror struck here face, it soon turned into annoyance as she saw a swaying Mario. He was crouched on the floor mumbling to himself as his body rocked back and forth.

"He's really gone. I figured out Bowser's flight patterns and if I just work out a way to infiltrate his castle, maybe I can see him? I've even made a Koopa disguised!"

Peach plopped down next to him and lifted his chin. "You need to sleep. I get you're worried but-"

"You don't... We've been apart a few times, but a year is different. Even with school, we stuck together. To have the first time we've ever separated for a YEAR and with that tyrant?! I don't even know where to begin with what that stupid Koopa has planned."

Mario stood up and looked at the bulletin board. A sigh left his lips as he began to mumble to himself.

Peach got up and brushed herself off, "You think I don't, but I do... I know how it feels to not be around someone who you care deeply for, but I can reassure you, if your brother decided to go with Bowser of all creatures.. he's braver than you give him credit for.."

"I'm not saying-"

"Would you have gone if the proposal was for you?"

"No, but-"

"Would you have looked for a solution that didn't require three armies?"

Mario opened his mouth to speak then dejectedly looked down, thinking, as his stroked his stache. "Ok... You may have a point there."

"Mhm.", She smiled. "You've been up all night thinking on how to rescue your brother, you haven't even considered that if he needed it, he'll call."

The small plumber turned back to the board and sighed, "then we just sit and wait?.."

"We'll see him at the end of the month, that was the agreement after all. I also made sure he knew that if he wanted to come back at any time, he could.", She answered. "Now, let's start the day. You really need to shave that stubble."

"Yeah... Yeah, I honestly don't know how it grew overnight, truly..", he pondered.

The two made their way out of the room. Mario giving one more glance at the board before closing the door.

'I'm sorry, Princess. But I just need to check on him..'

He pulled out a small picture of a desert land with a sphinx looming in the side of the frame.

Luigi groaned, sweat dripping down his temple as he tossed a bit in bed. The sling restricted his movement, but he gasped awake once an alarm he'd set up from last night began to blare in his ears.

He looked around while taking deep breaths. He was aware he wasn't in his room, but still gazed at it in shock.

Once he calmed down, he slowly reached over with his left hand and stopped the clock. A yawn left his lungs as he recollected all of what happened last night. Looking down at his arm, he cursed under his breath and swiftly moved the covers off of himself.

A set of clothes were left on his nightstand, next to his clock, and he rolled his eyes to the obvious seal stitched onto the shirt.

'He doesn't even wear his own mark, why do I have to- No, calm down Luigi! Just one issue at a time here..'

He would have to deal with it later. Instead, he went over to an unpacked suitcase and began to get a simple green button up shirt, some jeans and his long striped socks. Before heading to his bathroom he grabbed a towel he forgot to grab and some shampoo he didn't put in the cabinet.

Trying to hold everything in one arm was only half the challenge, he now had to figure out how to shower and change his sling without injury.

Words Bowser said before started flooding into his head.

"And if you had just listened, you wouldn't be needing that sling!"

'Sure, blame ME for wanting some space!'

Luigi's frustration grew as he closed his bathroom door and turned on the shower head. Despite him coming into the castle in his Peach disguise, he hadn't seen any bathrooms his size before. He set up the bottles and toothbrush cup as orderly as he could while letting the water run to a temperature he felt wasn't going to burn his skin.

He took a deep breath and started to remove his shirt with his free hand. Lifting and turning to get every bit of his body out of the clothing someone had dressed him in. A shiver trailed as he realized he was undressed and dressed without permission.

'Not now, let's not think about that now!', he thought. His body began shaking a bit, but halted once he finally freed himself from the shirt.

Looking in the mirror, he smiled a bit. The scars near his ribs had faded a bit more and like clockwork, a bit of stubble was growing in.

Getting the rest of it off was simple enough, and as he finished undressing, he stepped into the shower.

The King was in his throne room delegating with a clawful of his captains. He was signing some documents for new dark land residents and grumbled at some of the testimonies. Kamek entered the room, rather cheerfully.

"The Prince and his siblings are eating his breakfast, your highness. They've decided they'd like to sleep at the castle once we arrive and are in quite the destructive spirit this morning.", He hummed.

"Good, we'll be there shortly. Make sure they don't ruin the dining room once we get there. I don't want to see apple pie and steak all over the castle walls again."

"Y-Yes, your highness.."

"Where is the Queen?"

Kamek gulped. He was hoping to avoid talking about Luigi for a few more minutes, but it seemed the King wasn't holding back.

"He's still in his chamber, your highness. Would you like him to stay there?"

"No, have him eat after the children finish. When he's done eating, bring him to the discussion room. Since he wants to be involved, so badly, might as well put some pressure up his stupid as-"

A clash erupted from the large doors swinging open. In bounded Bowser Jr and Ludwig, who panted a bit while trying to stop him.

"Papa!"

"Junior?! Ludwig? What a-are you-"

"Kamek said you got a queen!", He roared excitedly. "Does that mean that Princess said yes?! I knew it!"

His tail was wagging as Ludwig tried to hush him, "Hey! He said not to tell!", He whispered.

But the little prince wasn't listening and stumped Ludwig's muzzle causing him to grumble a bit. "It's true, right?!"

Bowser sighed and nervously gave a smile, "Well... It's a bit complicated, Junior.."

"What?"

"Well you see...", Bowser started. He gestured a bit to Kamek for assistance.

"Uhm, the Queen might not be... What you expect, your highness. We can talk about it once we reach the castle.", Kamek answered.

The small Koopa grunted and stomped, "No! I want to see my new momma!"

Bowser sighed and glared at Kamek, he slowly lifted himself from his throne and headed down the stairs.

Ludwig puffed his chest up a bit but Bowser brought the two closer as he leveled with the kids. "You'll meet the Queen after you and your siblings get ready to leave for your stay at the castle. And Junior, it isn't the Princess, but I promise to explain everything when we land. Ok?"

Junior huffed, resting over Bowser's arm, defeated. "Fine.."

"And Ludwig, make sure he doesn't burn anything..."

"Already on it!", He nodded holding up his staff.

"Good!"

Bowser smiled and for a moment, two purred as they leaned their foreheads against the King's, Junior still wearing a scowl on his face.

"I promise we'll discuss this later.", He smiled. "Now get going. That's an order.."

Ludwig huffed a bit as he gently pushed himself and Bowser Jr towards the door. The two waved goodbye and muffled chatter faded as they headed out.

The King's smile faded away as his head quickly turned towards Kamek, enraged.

"You told the kids?!"

"T-They wondered why you had arrived so late! Lemmy suggested a cuddle pile in your quarters, but-"

"And you couldn't have told them anything else?"

"Sorry, your highness.."

Bowser rumbled, but let his anger subside. "Fine. But get the Queen ready. He can take his breakfast with him to the discussion room. He wants to be involved so badly, it's time he proves it."

Kamek nodded and sped off down the hall on his broomstick to get Luigi.

The co-plumber had gotten ready and felt refreshed after the long shower. He was drying his hair with his free hand near the end of the bed, and was trying to figure out how he'd get his shirt on.

His stomach grumbled for his attention and as he rubbed it a knock came from the door.

"May I come in, your majesty?"

"N-Not ye-", he paused. "Actually yes! It's all right."

Kamek creaked the door open, " Ah! It's good to know you're already getting dressed."

"Yeah.. I need some help getting this shirt on though. Do you think you could.."

"Say no more, your highness!" Kamek proclaimed proudly. As he levitated the shirt, his eyebrow was raised in curiosity, "pardon my intrusion, but these aren't the clothes the King picked out for you. It's quite nice, but as his Queen you should.."

"...I'm not HIS. I'm just THE Queen and if that's the case, then I think wearing my shirt should be fine.", Luigi retorted. He made a failed attempt to fold his arms.

"Right....", the MagiKoopa noted. "If your majesty wishes, I guess I can't retort.". He finished as he warped the shirt onto Luigi's body and went to get the aid kit he'd left in the room.

"As for today, you'll be eating breakfast with the King while going over recent rebellions in a meeting with the captain and general of the Koopa army. The Captain is quite violent and his General is just as much. He's pretty loyal too."

Luigi gulped and stood up, "I feel underdressed now.."

"Which is why I set out clothes for you, your majesty.", Kamek scolded. "We have time to get you changed!"

He thought about it a bit, but shook his head. "I-I think I'll be fine. Just in case though..". He reached for his cape that was resting on the handle of his bed frame, "I'll put this on.."

Kamek gave him a good look at and sighed, 'Oh please, great stars let this not be a mistake!'

In front of a large golden crested door, Luigi stood quivering. He could barely keep his plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon still that Kamek had to take it in fear of wasting a good meal.

"Anytime now, your majesty..."

"W-What if this is just like last night? I called him an ass! H-He was acting like one, but maybe he hasn't calmed down? I'm not equipped for this? Could we maybe reschedule?! O-Or maybe-"

Kamek looked over at him with an annoyed expression, "Your majesty, I understand your.. concerns, but you bravely spoke your peace yesterday despite the.. repercussions. Not even his bravest soldiers dare talk back to the King without execut-"

"Execution?! I CURSED AT HIM! I COULD BE-".

Luigi was about to pass out.

"No, no! Nothing of the sort. You forget that what you have is something no soldier can compare with."

"Seeing how fast I can get out of here...?"

".....No, you're The Queen, your majesty..."

He already knew this fact, but still could believe it'd be any use to a tyrant. Many queens from his world were executed, whether it was their fault or not. The Kings always held the power and he refused to end up with his head on a pike.

Kamek opened the doors, not before handing Luigi back his plate. Once opened, a surge of light came through causing Luigi's eyes to wince from the exposure. His vision cleared and he gazed at the round table, the same Koopa emblem preserved in the marble, and sharp blacked stone claws digging into its surface. At the head sat the King with two Koopas on each side of him, their attention placed on the duo that were standing there.

Bowser looked unimpressed, his eyelids lowered as he gave Luigi an examination and grunted seeing the casual wear.

"Kind of you to finally join us, your highness." Said the one eyed Koopa.

Luigi nodded in response as he made his way over to a small chair next to Bowser. His footsteps and squeaky heels echoed with each step.

Bowser glanced down at him and took a breath before continuing to speak, "So you say there has been an outbreak in the city?"

"Yes your greatness, several of my soldiers have reported on the citizens disdain for the announcement of the new Queen. They're worried that the brother of Mario will doom your kingdom.", he explained.

"A few have even begun calling you a failed King on account that word got out about the wedding incident... We've captured several of the protestors, but they've begun organizing crimes and rallies, your grace.", The General ranted his fist slamming the table.

Kamek had taken his side by the King while Luigi was eating while his arm was shaking. He felt responsible for all of it and knew how hard change was. A pit sank in his stomach knowing how those expressing their concerns would be executed or tortured and he tried his hardest not to imagine or verbalize their screams of pain in his head.

The King could sense his discomfort, "Hmm... Well, with the damages to several properties, the terrorizing of my citizens, and conspiring against the crown... It would be suitable to punish those who don't agree with my decision. Wouldn't you say so, Luigi?"

Luigi gulped, he was both shocked and infuriated by his response. He knew Bowser was pushing another button in him and was starting to crack. A small smile started to form on his face, "No."

"No?"

"No", he repeated. "I don't think they should be punished for voicing their concerns. They have no idea who I am."

Bowser raised an eyebrow and pressed on, "Wouldn't that make you furious? It would be better to squash any doubt in your leadership."

"Of course that works for someone like you.."

"And what's THAT supposed to mean?!",Bowser snarled.

Luigi smirked, enjoying the upper hand. "A brute will act brutish, you haven't even considered giving your citizens closure on me being a new leader to them."

"I- uhm-", his jaw opened. The Captain looked a bit uneasy.

"I'm not finished.", He noted. "You only prove them right by imprisoning those telling you of how stupid of a choice it was to make your ENEMY an equal. But what do I know, I'm just your prisoner."

Luigi closed his eyes and did a one-sided shrug before lifting the fork to his mouth. The room stayed stunned as Bowser tried to find the words to respond. His Captain and General started to rethink their strategy before Bowser spoke.

".... Y-You.. Ugh!"

"Should we... Torture them.. or-"

Bowser sighed, he could feel a headache growing as he tried to think this over. He hadn't thought further on the situation and wanted to simply stop it before anything got out of hand, but realized only now that his decision was the cause of all of this.

"No! Not yet at least, give me a day to think about this. We will relocate the prisoners to the castle cells once we reach there. I'll make my decision once my meetings in Sarasaland are over. Get the chains ready for their departure and station your guards at each cell. Two guards to a prisoner."

"Yes, your highness!", The two nervously stated.

"Leave us be... You too, Kamek.."

"O-Of course.", He answered. The MagiKoopa gave Luigi a pat on the shoulder before heading out with the others.

"Are you trying to make a fool out of me?"

Luigi only gulped at the worried expression on his face and didn't dare look up from his plate. His chewing slowed as he tried to retain his confidence.

The doors slowly clasped closed.

Bowser slowly turned to the man, he had a claw on the table and lowered his head, almost two inches away from Luigi's ear.

His heated breath could be felt trickling the Queen's neck, "No, you do that enough for yourself.. Both last night and just now."

Bowser snarled as his claws scrapped the resin surface, long marks being made on the table. "It was you and your brother's plan that ruined my rep!"

"Someone with BRAINS would've seen that me in a dress wasn't your damned bride! For fuck's sake, I wore a MASK!", Luigi retorted. He stood up as he spoke, which caused the Koopa to slowly move his head back once he did. "Maybe get those eyes checked."

Bowser grumbled, "Oh yeah!? Well- fuck you!-"

'I was excited to finally be happy for once!'

"-You and your brother always pull some FUCKING trick to get YOUR way. You're both just as inconsiderate as I am!"

Luigi's mouth gaped open and he poked at the King's snout, "My brother is nothing like you! He is the most considerate and understanding guy I know!-"

'If I were as half the man as he is...'

"-You don't even!" Luigi paused. "You know what, no. I'm not going to go back and forth with you. What do you want?"

Bowser blinked. He was so ready to fire back at him, he'd forgotten what started the argument. Why was he fighting with someone beneath his authority.

"I...". His head lowered in defeat. He sighed and sat up again. "I.. wanted to know if you'd really want to give cLosURre to my kingdom. I, hadn't thought about...ugh."

Luigi looked at him confused by his confession, "You didn't think anyone would have a problem with it?"

"That's not it. I just, didn't... Actually that's exactly it..."

He rolled his eyes at the large Koopa as he ate more of the bacon. "I'd like to... It's only fair, since I'm their Queen now."

"Right..".

The two sat in the realization for a moment. The quiet deafened the room as the clinking from the fork and plate kept the silence from setting in.

"This is the first time you've had a civil conversation with me.", He noted.

"Don't get used to it, this was only the start of your duties."

"Sure", he chewed. "As if you'll let me do anything..."

"I gave you the opportunity to make a decision and all you did was question my choices! How can I let you do anything??"

"You ASKED for my opinion, not a decision. You had already thought of one, I merely gave my input on it.", He scoffed finishing up his eggs.

Bowser mumbled and mimicked him, but for some reason his tail was swaying. "That's enough out of you."

Standing up, he took Luigi's plate, "Get back to your chambers."

"I can handle the plate-"

"I heard you shuffling with it in your puny hand from outside. You could barely hold Lemmy with it."

'Lemmy?..'

"And whose fault is that?!"

"Will you let it go already!! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! IT'LL FUCKING HEAL!"

Luigi flinched and took a deep breath, "Say your sorry and mean it."

"Mean it?", the Koopa snorted.

"Yes, say you're sorry for hurting me!"

"You expect me to surrender to-"

"Nevermind... I just want to lay down."

"This isn't on the level of some battle! JUST-", Luigi sat down, exhausted from screaming. His free hand covering his eyes and he sighed. It felt like arguing with his niece all over again and he didn't want to over exert himself.

Bowser gaped his mouth to say something else, but clenched it and nodded. "The soldiers will take you back."

"Yeah, yeah."

Through the corridor, Luigi was followed quite closely by two guards, stopping here and there to check out portraits hung on the walls. As he stepped into his room and shut the door, he plopped on his uninjured side and winced at the pain from the sudden jolt.

'All I wanted was..'

He didn't dare finish that thought, he knew what he wanted, but shouldn't have expected it from a dragon wannabe. He flopped onto his back, so he could brace himself upwards and started to the window. Looking out, he could see a few huts on some wetlands and noticed the drastic transition from soil to soot.

Bowser placed the plate in the sink and started to wash it. The Koopa beside him glanced up at him nervously, already working on a heavy load of dishes.

He didn't say anything, but he could tell his presence made them nervous, "You."

"M-Me, your highness?"

"No, the ceiling."

"Oh! Ok."

Bowser groaned, "Of course I meant you!"

"Sorry, your highness!", They squeaked.

"Ugh... Look, did you treat the Queen last night?"

The Koopa perked up, "Yes! H-He was a bit nervous about drinking the soup, but I-"

"I didn't ask for all of the details."

"Sorry.."

"Good. Now, did he.. seem like a fit ruler to you?"

The dish-washer slowly lowered their sponge and plate, thinking. "He.. didn't NOT seem like one."

"Hm... And did he ever yell any orders? Demand anything? What do you think of him as a Queen?"

The Koopa was stunned, eyes widened and was slowly inched away from the King in fear of the wrong answer.

"Well?", Bowser sneered.

"U-Um... He didn't yell, I think his orders were in reason... He asked me to taste the soup for poison. I'm not sure if h-he'll be a good Queen since I don't know what he's done for the kingdom yet..B-But as long as he keeps your kingdom strong. It should be fine?"

Bowser put the plate down and grabbed the Koopa with his claw. They yelled and quivered as he raised them up to his eye level.

"Are you saying he'd take my place?!"

"N-No! Not at all your highness! I-Im just saying you could use him to your advantage! He'll know.. um. Oh! About plans of attack against your kingdom o-or possibly the location of another superstar?!", They squeaked as their head was slowly retracting.

Bowser thought about it and grinned, he dropped the help and stomped off.

'And with him visiting home every month.. I could use the plans of the Mushroom kingdom to once and for all, crush Mario and take Peach! I'll have a proper wedding and Queen at my side!'

He chuckled at the thought and headed to his throne room.

The ship started to descend and near the entrance, the Koopa kids were excitedly ready to rampage through the castle and fill their rooms with treasures from their journey. Ludwig was carrying a few scrolls as Morton picked one up as it dropped.

"Why so many? Kamek said we didn't have to study spells this month.", He questioned. The kids turned their attention to him.

"I thought I'd help out more by digging into advanced magic! I want to take down that pesky plumber.", Ludwig answered. He placed what he had into his sack and took the one he dropped from his brother.

"I see no point in it, Bowser said we shouldn't interfere until-", Wendy noted.

"Until we're ready!", The group chimed in unison.

"It's never stopped us yet! Heck, even the Prince terrorized his first village before he was ready!", Roy added slickly.

"I could test out new explosives too!", Iggy popped in.

"Eh, I doubt-"

"KIDS!"

All of them looked at the stomping Koopa approaching, Kamek flying in tow. "You better not be planning on doing anything this time. Right?"

"Right..." Larry winked.

"I'm serious, the Queen is staying in the castle with you all, so I don't want trouble this time."

"What?! So Kamek wasn't lying?!"

"Ooh! Is she pretty?! Finally, another lady in the castle! Maybe we can-"

"Heeey! What's wrong with males?!"

Bowser sighed as the kids bickered, he roared for their attention and they flinched. "Look, you can ask him all the questions you want, I don't care. But no shenanigans, got it?"

"Yes sir!"

Morton stuck his tongue out at Wendy when Bowser mentioned a 'him' and she rolled her eyes.

"Shut it!", She whispered

Luigi made his way down the hall, panting a bit as he realized he wasn't able to pack everything so quickly. A few shirts began slipping out of the suitcases the guards were carrying. One had flown behind to pick up and catch what was slipping.

When he reached the group, he was out of breath.

"Took you long enough..", Bowser grumbled.

"If you didn't give me less than an HOUR to pack, I wouldn't need to rush!", He retorted between breaths.

The Koopalings and Junior just stared at Luigi, as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. They looked at Bowser and erupted in questions.

"Him!? Are you kidding?!"

"Why is he wearing a polo and jean- jeggings?! I'm appalled!"

"He doesn't even have a shell!"

"He's that weak?! Look at his arm!"

Roy just glared at him and shook his head. Luigi shivered and just lowered his head in embarrassment.

"You've gotta be kidding me! Even my smallest attack would knock him off his feet!"

"QUIET! One at a time!", Bowser growled. "I said I'll explain this in the castle, now hop to it!"

The kids grumbled and complained as they walked in with their luggage carried behind them. Luigi blinked and felt relieved that this gave him some time to collect his thoughts.

"So... Kids?", He started. "How many times have you-"

"what?...NO I DIDN'T-"

The Koopalings all went into their separate chambers and started unpacking. Junior on the other hand, had other ideas.

He scampered into his clown car, huffing a bit as he fell in and flew off into the halls. He wanted to understand why his dad chose someone like Luigi to be the Queen. He always boasted about the beautiful and infamous Princess, so what made the little plumber so special.

"I'm leaving."

"ok?", Luigi looked at him confused. He already knew Bowser was on his way, but wasn't sure why the scaly guy was watching him unpack.

"I'm REALLY leaving you here.", He repeated.

"Mhm."

"I don't know when I'll be back! It could take days!", Bowser exclaimed.

Luigi put his shirt in the dresser and turned his head to Bowser slowly, "And?.. You made it clear I'm staying.."

"Right..", the King grunted with a grin. "Good to know you're finally listening."

Luigi just stood there, he gestured to him his eyes squinting and the finger tips of his free hand touching. His mouth gaped as he was unable to understand the beast's persistence.

Junior flew by but backed up once he heard murmurs coming from down the hall. His father's tail laid outside the door and as he began to get closer he finally heard the slight embarrassment coming from the King.

"Are you asking me to go with you?"

"No! But since you're SO persistent about it!"

"I mentioned it ONCE"

"Look, Greenie. I get it. If you're too scared to ask about it in my presence then that's understandable. You are quite weak, but I'll consider your involvement in my duties."

"I...I DIDN'T EVEN ASK!"

Junior gasped and busted in, falling out of the car as it crashed into the bed and exploded into flames.

Luigi ducked and flew back as best he could to avoid the blast. Meanwhile Junior tucked into his shell and rolled over by his father's feet from the backlash. He popped out ready to defend his dad when he looked up to see his father glaring at him, his brows furrowed.

"Junior.... How many times do I have to tell you.. TO NOT USE THE CAR TO BUST THROUGH DOORS!", he roared. "ONLY THE WALLS GOSH DAMNIT!"

"He was yelling at you!! I wanna make sure he doesn't do it again!"

"He- go to the living area! Wait there with your siblings!"

"But dad!"

"NOW!"

Junior grumbled, "NO!"

Luigi was checking his arm, it was still sore, but the pain wasn't as intense. He coughed from the debris and stood up, looking at the two arguing.

"Great... Now there's two..", he muttered. "HEY!"

Both paused and snapped their jaws shut to stare at Luigi.

"U-Uhm.. my bed is.... Anyways, could we please get that taken care of? I don't want to hear you two bickering for the rest of the morning."

"You can't tell Papa what to do!", Junior huffed.

"I'll send someone to fix it.."

"WHAT?! BUT PAPA!"

"NO, GO TO THE LIVING AREA. NOW!"

"HMPH!"

Junior stomped off, not before sticking his tongue out at Luigi and pulling up his mask. Bowser watched him go and could see Junior wiping a tear away as he headed down the hall. He sighed then turned his attention to the flaming bed.

"If you want my advice-"

"Shut it and follow me."

"Right..", Luigi sighed.

'Not even gonna ask if I'm ok'

The two started down the corridor. Luigi, now making pace with the base of Bowser's tail.

"Oh, and is your arm healed yet?"

"what?.."

"You heard me."

Luigi looked at it, "Yeah, it's doing ok now."

"Good.. because you'll probably break the other one."

"WHY YOU-"

In the living area, the Koopalings were all waiting around on the cushioned furniture. A few blanket slings and egg chairs kept them entertained.

Junior stepped into the room and their attentions were raised as he wiped away another tear.

Roy spun over to him, got on one knee and asked him what happened. "Papa yelled at me! All because I was trying to stop the stupid human from yelling at him!"

"Did you crash the clown car again?", Lemmy asked.

"No!"

He raised an eyebrow at him, "Really?"

"Well..."

Roy smiled, "Nice one, lil Prince."

Before Junior could reply, Bowser walked in and looked at the room. The Koopalings gave him their attention as he smiled from it.

"Wait, where's Larry?"

"On your shell."

"...... LARRY!"

"Hehehe!", the little one slid down and ran back to his blanket swing.

"Now, I know you're all wondering about the Queen. But I can assure you, it's not what you believe it to be.", Bowser began. "There were some... Complications during the wedding ceremony and due to the mix up, Greenie here is the temporary Queen for a year."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow, "So he's still Queen.."

"Yes, but he's only this as a punishment! It's not permanent."

"Why not just imprison him for a year?"

"Yeah!", Morton agreed. "Torture him then patch him up again! Then torture him some more!"

The plumber tensed up and began to shiver from the thought of the kids using his body as a punching bag. He looked up at the King for any sign of mercy.

Bowser raised his brows, his eyes filled with pride in their persistent blood lust. He cleared his throat, "I've already injured his arm as a warning if he is defiant. Additionally, if we tortured him, his brother and the Mushroom Kingdom would begin a siege. Even though we could easily overpower them, we... Need to preserve resources."

Luigi let out a sigh of relief, but was still shocked by Bowser's growing smile.

Junior looked at him directly, "I don't like him! He can't be Queen! Divorce him!"

"Who taught you that?"

"Wendy said that's what couples do! Divorce him!"

"Junior.."

Bowser picked up the tiny Prince, a look of worry on his face. "Look at it this way, if I keep the small, feeble, weak human-"

"Hey!"

"-Then we could taunt Mario and torture him. You can even send a letter saying we fractured his arm."

"Really?!", The young Koopa exclaimed excitedly.

Bowser nodded.

"I'll go get my crayons!"

Luigi tried to jump in, "I don't think that's a good idea!"

"No one asked!", Ludwig noted.

"Now, you can get your crayons but you have to say you'll let the prisoner stay the Queen. No more talk of a divorce! From ANY of you.", His head slowly turned to Wendy.

She looked a bit unamused as she filed her claws, "Right."

"ok!", Junior agreed. He hopped down and ran over to Larry, who was already coloring on some paper.

Bowser looked satisfied with the outcome, but Luigi was just standing there baffled by his solution.

"You do realize my brother will have your skull if he sends that?"

"I'd like to see him try, shrimpie.", Bowser turned to leave. "I'm heading out children! Don't kill too many Troopa while I'm gone."

"Okay!", A few said in unison.

"No promises!"

"Greenie, you're coming back onto the ship."

"What?!"

"Your bed is damaged and I...uh.. don't have other rooms in the castle."

"You can't be serious.", Luigi replied, unable to believe him.

"Unless you want to sleep in my chambers...", Bowser murmured.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing! Get over here now!"

"Fine, geez! Would it hurt you to say please?!", Luigi scolded as he hurriedly rushed over to the stomping Koopa. "Prick."

"Shortie."

"IM ABOVE THE AVERAGE HEIGHT FOR HUMANS!"

"Sure you are. Keep dreaming, little Queen."

"I hate you..", Luigi grumbled.

"I hate you more."

[gamerwoman3d]

Welp. It's been fun but I gotta go to horny jail for about the next thousand years or so. Holy fuck.

[Spicy/Explicit AND gifs AND gore under the cut 🔞]

Original video:

[And not to brag but yes I did get a flawless victory over him in that ridiculous Seasonal Tower in Invasions mode. Watch the whole thing if you want to find out how.]

Okay. It is horny hours.

They objectified the fuck outta this man in this fatality and honestly? Kudos.

This hit me in all the kinks at once. No trigger warnings past this point read at your own risk

On screen, the whole thing about Shang Tsung pouring pain-inducing liquid on Sub-Zero's chest reads like hot wax. It reads like overstimulation and forced climax. Omg his hips... the way Shang Tsung watches/monitors him almost gives the viewer permission and encouragement to do the same. It's as if Shang Tsung is telling us "I'm enjoying watching this man writhe and spurt and lose his mind. I'm enjoying it immensely, actually. There's no reason not to do so."

We get so many of Sub-Zero's expressions. That's the more intimate part - the part most often censored in any kind of porn is the man's face, as if it's illegal for them to display any kind of expressions. As if they might accidentally leak proof of an actual emotion, it is too taboo even in the realm of porn to show the guy's face. That's what makes this particular piece of art-violence unique: it's usually a woman cringing in fear and pain and dread at the brink of being devoured by a monster that is simultaneously a vagina dentata and also phallic. [See: Ripley, Aliens.]

So we get to see his face in part pain, part fear, part on the brink of death, all the way through a symbolic climax, until literally he's getting his mind blown. And it's kinda amazing.

As for the other kinks this scene is reminiscent of, I'm personally not a big fan of being tied down but exceptions can be made - I'm into it if he is. There's the dom/sub[-zero hah] element of Shang Tsung having autonomy while Sub-Zero can only watch and pray [he kinda mouths 'oh my god' - right? if you read lips, lmk]. Not into the power imbalance part but Shang Tsung's enjoyment of the situation itself is also kinda arousing.

The final bit is the blood/birth stuff. Skipping the mpreg stuff [Barbara Creed has all this covered in The Monstrous Femme, check it out from a library], the blood stuff is... well its a kink for some. For me there's only one week a month where seeing blood on his nose is acceptable 😝

And yea I'd still sit there if the enthusiasm was mutual. Damn snake beat me to it this time tho.

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 7

Warning: violence, mention of past abuse, swearing etc

I hope you enjoy the new chapter :)

In the best interest of preserving peace within Navarre, no more than three cadets carrying rebellion relics may be assigned to any squad of any quadrant.

– Addendum 5.2, Basgiath War College Code of Conduct

In addition to last year’s changes, marked ones assembling in groups of three or more will now be considered an act of seditious conspiracy and is hereby a capital offense.

– Addendum 5.3, Basgiath War College Code of Conduct

“Damn it” I mutter as my toe catches a rock, and I stumble in the waist-high grass that grows alongside the river beneath the citadel. The moon is nice and full, illuminating my way, but it means I’m sweating to death in this cloak to keep hidden, just in case anyone else is out here wandering after curfew. If on my way back from the General someone questioned me why I was out, then I had a good excuse. But now? It would be troublesome.

The Iakobos River rushes with summer runoff from the peaks above, and the currents are fast and deadly this time of year, especially coming out of the steep drop of the ravine. No wonder that first-year died when he fell in yesterday during our downtime. Since Parapet, we lost two first-years.

I move closer to the river, along the ancient line of oaks where I know one vine of fonilee berries will be coming into season soon. Ripe, the purple berries are tart and barely edible but, picked prematurely and left to dry, will make an excellent weapon in Vi’s hands. She knows a lot about poisonous herbs. She has a book that contains dozens of them.

Spotting the boulder I’ve used as a landmark for the past five years, I count the trees on the riverbank. “One, two, three” I whisper, spotting the exact oak I’ll need. Its branches spread wide and high, some even daring to reach out over the river.

It’s strange. The grass is more trampled around the tree, then I expect if Vi was already here.

“Vi?” I whisper “Are you here?”

Silence. Then…

“Aelin?” I see Violet’s head pop out between two branches near the top.

“How did you get up there with your arm?” I raise an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t really that difficult.” She sighs.

“Then I’ll climb up too and help you gather these berries.” I grab a lowest branch and start to climb toward Vi.

The fonilee vines looks deceptively like ivy as it winds up the trunk, but I’ve scaled this particular tree enough times to know this is the one. The tips of the vine leaves are white at this height, barely visible in the mottled through the canopy, but I grin as I see that Vi found a lot of those berries.

“Here” she whispers and hands me a vial.

Then I pluck just enough berries off the vine to fill the glass and shove the stopper back in.

“There. It should be enough to make it through the next challenges.” I hand it back to her.

“I collected mushrooms and other items, so I’m set for about a month.” She packs back the vial in her bag.

“Good. You’re a genious Vi.” I grin at her and start to climb down the tree.

I’m almost down the tree, only a handful of branches to go, when I spot movement beneath me and pause.

I signal Vi to stop. She pauses and looks at me quiestioningly. I point down and signal her to be silent.

Hopefully it’s just a deer.

But it’s not.

Two figures in black cloaks - apparently tonight’s disguise of choice - walk under the protection of the tree.

Maybe it’s a meeting point we didn’t know. It makes sense that the grass was visibly trampled around the tree.

The smaller one leans back against the lowest limb, removing her hood to reveal a half-shaved head of pink hair I know all too well.

Imogen, Violet’s squadmate who nearly ripped off her arm.

My stomach tightens, then knots as the second rider slips off his own hood.

Xaden Riorson.

Oh shit.

There’s a few feet between us. I can’t do anything to conceal us. If they look up surely they’ll see us.

They begin speaking, but I can’t hear what they’re saying, not with the river rushing by. Relief fills my lungs. If I can’t hear them, they can’t hear me either, as long as we don’t move. Imogen probably can’t see us from her place, but Xaden can. Shit, all it takes is for him to look up, and I’ll be toast, literally if he decides to feed me to that Blue Daggertail of his. Maybe Violet is high enough in the tree not to be seen. The moonlight I was thankful for a few minutes ago has now become our biggest liability.

Slowly, carefully, quietly I move out of the patchy moonlight to the next branch over, cloaking myself in shadow. What is he doing out here with Imogen? Are they lovers? But Xaden said that they aren’t. Friends? It’s absolutely none of my business, and yet I can’t help but wonder if she’s the kind of woman he goes for - one whose beauty is only outmatched by her brutality. They fucking deserve each other.

Xaden turns away from the river, as though he’s looking for someone, and sure enough, more riders arrive, gathering under the tree. They’re all dressed in black cloaks as they shake hands. And they all have rebellion relics.

My eyes widen as I count. There are almost two dozen of them, a few third-years and a couple of seconds, but the rest are all firsts. I know the rules. Marked ones can’t gather in groups larger than three. They’re committing a capital offense simply by being together. It’s obviously a meeting of some sort, and I feel like a cat clinging to the leaf-tipped limbs of this tree while the wolves circle below.

Their gathering could be completely harmless, right? Maybe they’re homesick, like when the cadets from the Morraine province all spend a Saturday at the nearby lake just because it reminds them of the ocean they miss so much.

Or maybe marked ones are plotting to burn Basgiath to the ground and finish what their parents started.

’Report them’ I hear the general’s voice in my head.

No. I don’t know what is this meeting, but if it’s something harmless then I can’t do that. They suffered enough because of a Melgren. I don’t want to be like my father. Never.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I have to get closer.

I signal Vi to don’t move as keeping myself on the opposite side of the trunk and sticking to the shadows that wrap around me, I climb down another branch with sloth-like speed, holding my breath as I test each branch with a fraction of my weight before lowering myself. Their voices are still muffled by the river, but I can hear the loudest of them all, a tall, dark-haired man with pale skin, whose shoulders take up twice the space of any first-year, standing opposite Xaden’s position and wearing the rank of a third-year. That’s Garrick? I only see him talk to Liam once, but he’s always by Xaden’s side.

“We’ve already lost Sutherland and Luperco” he says, but I can’t make out the response.

It takes two more rungs of branches before their words are clear. I’m close enough for any one of them to see if they look hard enough - well, except Xaden, since his back is turned toward me now.

I can see familiar faces from my hiding place. Liam. Another squadmate, Ethan. And some first-years whose name I don’t remember.

“Like it or not, we’re going to have to stick together if you want to survive until graduation” Imogen says.

I just happen to value my own life more than I want revenge  at the moment, so I keep my feet to myself.

“And if they’re find out we’re meeting?” a first-year girl with an olive complexion asks, her eyes darting around the circle.

“We’ve done this for two years and they’ve never found out,” Xaden responds, folding his arms and leaning back against the limb below my right. “They’re not going to unless one of you tells. And if you tell, I’ll know.” The threat is obvious in his tone. “Like Garrick said, we’ve already lost two first-years to their own negligence. There are only forty-one of us in the Riders Quadrant, and we don’t want to lose any of you, but we will if you don’t help yourselves. The odds are always stacked against us, and trust me, every other Navarrian in the quadrant will look for reasons to call you a traitor or force you to fail.”

There’s a muttered assent, and my breath hitches at the intensity in his voice. Damn it, I don’t want to find a single thing about Xaden Riorson admirable, and yet here he is, being all annoyingly admirable. Asshole.

Have to admit, it would be nice if a high-ranking rider from my province gave a shit if the rest of us from the province lived or died.

“How many of you are getting your asses handed to you in hand-to-hand?” Xaden asks.

Four hands shoot into the air.

“Shit,” Xaden swears, and I would give anything to see his expression as he lifts a hand to his face.

The big one—Garrick—sighs. “I’ll teach them.” I recognize him now. He’s the Flame Section leader in Fourth Wing.

Xaden shakes his head. “You’re our best fighter—”

“You’re our best fighter,” a second-year near Xaden counters with a quick grin. He’s handsome, with tawny brown skin crowned by a cloud of black curls and a litany of patches on what I can see of his uniform under his cloak. His features are close enough to Xaden’s that they might be related. Cousins, maybe? Fen Riorson had a sister, if I remember correctly. Shit, what was the guy’s name?

“Dirtiest fighter, maybe,” Imogen snarks.

Most everyone laughs, and even the first-years crack a smile.

“Fucking ruthless is more like it,” Garrick adds.

There’s a general consensus of nods, including one from Liam.

“Garrick is our best fighter, but Imogen is right up there with him, and she’s a hell of a lot more patient,” Xaden notes, which is just ludicrous considering she didn’t seem too patient while breaking Violet’s arm. “So the four of you split yourselves up between the two of them for training. A group of three won’t draw any unwanted attention. What else is giving you trouble?”

“I can’t do this,” a gangly first-year says, rolling his shoulders inward and lifting his slim fingers to his face.

“What do you mean?” Xaden asks, his voice taking on a hard edge.

“I can’t do this!” The smaller one shakes his head. “The death. The fighting. Any of it!” The pitch of his voice rises with every statement. “A guy had his neck snapped right in front of me on assessment day! I want to go home! Can you help me with that?”

Every head swings toward Xaden.

“No.” Xaden shrugs. “You’re not going to make it. Best accept it now and not take up more of my time.”

It’s all I can do to smother my gasp, and some of the others in the group don’t bother trying. What. A. Dick. The smaller guy looks stricken, and I can’t help but feel bad for him.

“That was a little harsh, cousin,” the second-year who looks a little like Xaden says, lifting his eyebrows.

“What do you want me to say, Bodhi?” Xaden cocks his head to the side, his voice calm and even. “I can’t save everyone, especially not someone who isn’t willing to work to save themselves.”

“Damn, Xaden.” Garrick rubs the bridge of his nose. “Way to give a pep talk.”

“If they need a fucking pep talk, then we both know they’re not flying out of the quadrant on graduation day. Let’s get real. I can hold their hands and make them a bunch of bullshit empty promises about everyone making it through if that helps them sleep, but in my experience, the truth is far more valuable.” He turns his head, and I can only assume he’s looking at the panicked first-year. “In war, people die. It’s not glorious like the bards sing about, either. It’s snapped necks and two-hundred-foot falls. There’s nothing romantic about scorched earth or the scent of sulfur. This”—he gestures back toward the citadel—“isn’t some fable where everyone makes it out alive. It’s hard, cold, uncaring reality. Not everyone here is going to make it home…to whatever’s left of our homes. And make no mistake, we are at war every time we step foot in the quadrant.” He leans forward slightly. “So if you won’t get your shit together and fight to live, then no. You’re not going to make it.”

Only crickets dare to break the silence.

“Now, someone give me a problem I can actually solve,” Xaden orders.

“Battle Brief,” a first-year I recognize says softly. Her bunk is only a row away from ours. Shit…what’s her name? There are too many women in the hall to know everyone, but I’m certain she’s in Third Wing. “It’s not that I can’t keep up, but the information…” She shrugs.

“That’s a tough one,” Imogen responds, turning to look at Xaden. Her profile in the moonlight is almost unrecognizable as the same person who shredded Vi’s shoulder. That Imogen is cruel, vicious even. But the way she’s looking at Xaden softens her eyes, her mouth, her whole posture as she tucks a short strand of pink hair behind her ear.

“You learn what they teach you,” Xaden says to the first-year, his voice taking a hard edge. “Keep what you know but recite whatever they tell you to.”

My brow furrows. What the hell does he mean by that? Battle Brief is one of the classes taught by scribes to keep the quadrant up-to-date on all nonclassified troop movements and battle lines. The only things we’re asked to recite are recent events and general knowledge of what’s going on near the front lines. At least I thought so, but after the meeting with the General I have a feeling that there’s a lot more going on than they le us know. Otherwise why would he want me to report everything about Xaden and the marked-ones? And that strange dagger. It’s only logical if all of this is somehow connected.

 “Anyone else?” Xaden asks. “You’d better ask now. We don’t have all night.”

I realize then—other than being gathered in a group of more than three, there’s nothing wrong with what they’re doing here. There’s no plot, no coup, no danger. It’s just a group of older riders counseling first-years from their province.

“When do we get to kill Violet Sorrengail and Aelin Melgren?” a guy toward the back asks.

My blood turns to ice. The murmur of assent among the group sends a jolt down my spine.

“Yeah, Xaden,” Imogen says sweetly, lifting her pale green eyes to him. “When do we get to finally have our revenge?”

He turns just enough for me to see his profile and the scar that crosses his face as he narrows his eyes at Imogen. “I told you already, the daughters of generals are mine, and I’ll handle them when the time is right.”

He’ll…handle us? My muscles thaw with the heat of indignation. I’m not some inconvenience to be handled. My short-lived admiration of Xaden is over.

“Didn’t you already learn that lesson, Imogen?” the look-alike Xaden chides from halfway down the circle. “What I hear, that Melgren girl did a number on you on the mat.”

Imogen’s head snaps in his direction. “She was just lucky. Besides Sorrengail’s mother is responsible for the execution of my mom and sister. I should have done more than just snap her shoulder.”

“Her mom is responsible for the capture of nearly all our parents,” Garrick counters, folding his arms over his wide chest. “Not her daughter. Punishing children for the sins of their parents is the Navarrian way, not the Tyrrish.”

„The same goes to Aelin.” Liam interjects with arms crossed.

„And you fucking friends with her. How can you do that?” Another first-year shouts.

„As Garrick said, she’s not responsible for her father’s actions. And she’s not a bad person.” He answers with narrowed eyes.

That’s…kind of him. I mean everybody down there hate me but he isn’t. It seems he’s really my friend. I feel somehow relieved.

 “So we get conscripted because of what our parents did years ago and shoved into this death sentence of a college—” Imogen starts.

In case you didn’t notice, they’re in the same death sentence of a college,” Garrick retorts. “Seems like they’re already suffering the same fate.”

“Don’t forget the youngest Sorrengail’s brother was Brennan Sorrengail,” Xaden adds. “She has just as much reason to hate us as we do her. And I heard that Melgren grew up with the Sorrengails.” He pointedly looks at Imogen and the first-years who raised the questions. “And I’m not going to tell you again. They’re mine to handle. Anyone feel like arguing?”

Silence reigns.

„Good. Then get back to bed and go in threes.” He motions with his head, and they slowly disperse, walking away in groups of threes just like he ordered. Xaden is the last to leave.

I draw a slow breath. Holy shit, we just might live through this. But I have to be sure they’re gone. I don’t move a muscle, and signal Violet to do the same as I count to five hundred in my head, breathing as evenly as possible to soften the beats of my galloping heart. Only when I’m sure we’re alone, when the squirrels scurry past on the ground, do I finish climbing from the tree, jumping the last four feet to the grassy floor. Violet is almost down too.

A shadow lunges behind me and I open my mouth to shout Violet to run, but my air supply is cut off by an elbow around my neck as I’m yanked against a hard chest.

’Shit. It hurts.’ I thought as pain shots to my cracked ribs.

“Scream and you die,” he whispers, and my stomach plummets as the elbow is replaced by the sharp bite of a dagger at my throat.

I freeze. I’d recognize the rough pitch of Xaden’s voice anywhere. “Fucking Melgren.” His hand yanks back the hood of my cloak.

“How did you know?” My tone is outright indignant, but whatever. If he’s going to kill me, I’m not going down as some simpering little beggar.

He scoffs. “I command shadows, idiot.” He lowers the knife and steps away. „You can come down too, Sorrengail.”

I gasp and briefly touch my ribs. Shit. He eyes my hand curiosly as I lower it as soon as I can. He knows that something is not right. It will give him an advantage.

“Your signet is a shadow wielder? And „idiot”? What happened with the sunshine?” I step away from him, closer to Violet, who lands behind me.

No wonder he’s risen so high in rank. Shadow wielders are incredibly rare and highly coveted in battle, able to disorient entire drifts of gryphons, if not take them down, depending upon the signet’s strength.

“What, Aetos hasn’t warned you not to get caught alone in the dark with me yet?” His voice is like rough velvet along my skin, and I shiver, then draw my own blade from the sheath at my thigh and raise it, ready to defend us to the death.

“If it hadn’t occured to you than Dain and I aren’t exactly friends.” I roll my eyes. „Is this how you plan to handle us?”

“Eavesdropping, were we?” He arches a black brow and sheathes his dagger like I couldn’t possibly pose a threat to him, which only serves to piss me off even more. “Now I might actually have to kill you.” There’s an undertone of truth in those mocking eyes.

This is just…bullshit.

“Then go ahead and get it over with.” I unsheathe another dagger, this one from beneath my cloak where it was strapped in at my ribs, and back up a couple of feet to give me distance. Violet moves with me, daggers in her hands.

He pointedly looks at one dagger, then the other, and sighs, folding his arms across his chest. “You really want to fight with me? You barely won over that second-year and I’m way better than him.”

Cocky bastard.

“I’m better than you think. I’m not some damsel in distress.” I flat-out bluster.

“So I see. I’m quaking in my boots.” The corner of his mouth rises into a mocking smirk.

Fucking. Asshole.

Two daggers shots past me and past his head, one on each side. They land solidly in the trunk of the tree behind him.

“You missed.” He doesn’t even flinch.

Shit, Vi. It’s not a good thing to give him more reason to kill us.

“Did I?” I hear Vi behind me. “Why don’t you back up a couple of steps and test that theory?”

Curiosity flares in his eyes, but it’s gone in the next second, masked by cold, mocking indifference.

Every one of my senses is on high alert, but the shadows around me don’t slide in as he moves backward, his eyes locked with hers. His back hits the tree, and the hilts of her daggers brush his ears.

“Tell me again that I missed,” she threatens.

“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?” An appreciative smile curves his perfect lips as shadows dance up the trunk of the oak, taking the form of fingers. They pluck the daggers from the tree and bring them to Xaden’s waiting hands.

My breath abandons me with a sharp exhale. He has the kind of power that could end us without him having to so much as lift a finger —shadow wielding. The futility of even trying to defend myself against him is laughable. But I can’t let him to kill us so easily. I need to buy some time for Vi to run away.

I hate how beautiful he is, how lethal his abilities make him as he strides toward me, shadows curling around his footsteps. His allure is a warning not to get too close, and I am definitely too close. Switching my grip to the hilts of my daggers, I prepare for the attack. He looks ready to slit open my throat.

„Run, Vi!” I order her as I move as fast as I can, as I cut in his direction with my daggers.

He easily dodges, than with a strong blow at my right hand knocks my dagger out of my hand. Swiftly I turn in the other direction to avoid the another attack. It seems he waited for exactly that as he deals a blow with his fist in my side.

The air rushes of my lungs as I drop on my knees. Bloody hell. I cradle my ribs with my hands as I wheeze for air. If they’re not broken now, they never will be.

“You should find another guardian, it seems the current is useless.” He says to Violet as he approaches her. „Show that little trick to Jack Barlowe,” Xaden says, turning his palms upward and offering her the daggers.

Useless? I flinch. That word… A wave of memories tries to drag me under.

“I’m sorry?” She blinks at him.

This is a trick. It has to be a trick.

He moves closer, and she lifts her blade.

My heart stumbles, the beat irregular as fear floods my system. I need to stand up. I push aside the pain, the memories. I need to help Violet.

“The neck-snapping first-year who’s very publicly vowed to slaughter you,” Xaden clarifies. He reaches under her cloak and slides one blade into the sheath at her thigh, then pulls back the side of her cloak and pauses.

I cautiously step beside Vi with another dagger in hand. When I see his face I pause. It’s…strange.

His gaze locks onto the length of her braid where it falls over her shoulder, and I could swear he stops breathing for a heartbeat before he slides the remaining dagger into one of the sheaths at her ribs.

I feel a pang in my chest. What is this feeling? I’m…jealous? Ridiculous.

“He’d probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head.”

This is…this is…bizarre. It has to be some kind of game meant to confuse me, right? And if so, he’s playing it really fucking well.

He actullay likes Violet? He doesn’t hurt her as he did with me.

“Because the honor of my murder belongs to you?” She challenges. “You wanted me dead long before your little club chose my tree to meet under, so I imagine you’ve all but buried me in your mind by now.”

He glances at the dagger poised at his stomach. “Do you plan on telling anyone about my little club?” His eyes meet hers, and there’s nothing but cold, calculating death waiting there.

“No,” she answers.

„Good.” He steps back and turns to me. „And you Melgren? Can you keep shut your mouth?”

„I won’t tell anyone. But not because of you.” I say while sheathing back my daggers. I don’t think he will kill us now.

“Why not?” He tilts his head to the side, examining my face like I’m an oddity. “It’s illegal for the children of separatist officers to assemble in—”

“Groups larger than three. I’m well aware. I’ve lived at Basgiath longer than you.” I lift my chin.

“And you’re not going to run off to Daddy, and tell him we’ve been assembling?” His gaze narrows on mine.

My stomach twists to the mention of the General.

“You were helping them. I don’t see why that should be punished.” It wouldn’t be fair to him or the others. Was their little meeting illegal? Absolutely. Should they die for it? Absolutely not. And that’s exactly what will happen if I tell. Those first-years will be executed for nothing more than asking for tutoring, and the senior cadets will join them just because they helped. “I’m not going to tell.”

He looks at me like he’s trying to see through me, and ice prickles my scalp. My hand is steady, but my nerves tremble at what the next thirty seconds might bring. He can kill us right here, toss our bodies into the river, and no one will know we’re gone until they find us downstream. But I won’t let him end me without drawing his blood first, that’s for damn sure.

“Interesting,” he says softly, then looks at my chest. „What happend with your ribs?”

„Today was assessment day, you know that well.” I lie fluently, I’m good at that.

„Do you mean the second-year whom you fought cracked your ribs?” He raises an eyebrow?

„What other explanation would there be for it?” I’m playing the dumb.

„That’s what I’m curious too.” He crosses his arms. „I watched your match and except from the bruise on your face, the second-year can’t even laid a hand on you. After that I escorted you to the Healers Quadrant. You stayed there until night and with Sorrengail you gone back to the dorms.” He recites my movements with alarming accuracy. „I doubt that you fought someone in the dorms or one of the first-years told us about it.”

„What? Are you watching me that closely?” I try to dodge the topic. He’s smarter than I gave him credit for, and I already knew he’s not an idiot.

„Of course. You’re a threat to all of us, Melgren.” He says. „So where do you get that injury?”

„It’s none of your business, Riorson.” I grit my teeth.

„You told us after Battle Brief that the General wanted to see you after classes.” He thinks out loud. „Someone caught you on your way to, or back from him?” He asks with narrowed eyes.

Violet gasps and I turn my head to her and see the horrified expression on her face.

Shit. I told her years ago that he stopped doing these kind of things. In reality he doesn’t, I just got better hiding the bruises. And now she knows.

„Who hurt you?” He steps closer, with something wavering in his eyes. It’s…pity, and anger? No, it’s impossible, he wants to kill us.

„I say for a last time in case you didn’t hear me earlier, Riorson.” I hiss at him. „It’s none of your fucking business. And if you won’t kill us tonight then we should go back to the dorms.”

“Hm. We’ll see if you keep your word and keep our secret, and if you do, then unfortunately, it looks like I owe you a favor.” Then he steps away, turns, and walks off, heading back toward the staircase in the cliff that leads up to the citadel. Wait. What?

“You’re not going to handle us?” Violet calls after him, shock raising her brows.

I groan. Vi, for fucks sake.

“Not tonight!” he tosses over his shoulder.

She scoffs. “What are you waiting for?”

“It’s no fun if you expect it,” he answers, striding into the darkness. “Now, get back to bed before your wingleader realizes you’re out after curfew.”

“What?” I gawk after him. “You’re our wingleader!”

But he’s already disappeared into the shadows, leaving me talking to myself like a fool.

„Aelin, is the Gen…” Violet turns to me with panick in her eyes.

„Vi.” I hush her. „We’re not going to talk about it. You probably pieced together what happened but that’s all. Someone can hear us.” I look in her eyes with a serious expression.

„But… There has to be a way to stop him.” She says pleadingly.

Sweet, kind Violet. That’s why a lied to her for years.

„Don’t worry, Vi.” I smile at her. „I will handle it. Everything is going to be alright. I won’t see him for who knows how long. It’s another advantage of this quadrant.”

I can’t tell her the General wants weekly reports. She would get herself into trouble on my behalf. I can’t let it.

„I… Okay.” She sighs. „But if I can help you, than you must tell me!” She says firmly.

„Deal.” I smile warmly at her. „Now come, we need to go back. We deserve a good sleep, it was a long day.” I link our arms as we starts our way back to the dorms.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

~ updated 4/24/24

~ read tags before reading; each fic is thoroughly tagged  

~ back to main masterlist; back to TVD / TO masterlist

✨ ~ fluff

🖤 ~ smut

⛓️ ~ dark &/or kink themes

💚 ~ angst

🌈 ~ fun themes

• never let me go ~ (here) (ao3) 💚✨

you're getting used to the coldness in your apartment. the chill that lingers in the air, the absence of his presence. for four months you wait for him, willing for the past and cursing those who've altered your future; wishing for the way things used to be, and hoping they wouldn't be lost beyond repair. but the next time you see him, out on your doorstep, you realize you can't just pick up the pieces, you have to restart the whole puzzle. (heretic!kai) pt. 2 ~ (here) (ao3) pt. 3 - (here) (ao3)

• gorgeous ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🖤

troubled by his own body, kai's afraid to go all the way with you. that is, until you confess you love him regardless of the way he looks, giving him just the confidence he's needed all along. (tw: implied abuse & s3lf h4rm) (virgin!kai)

• anatomy class ~ (here) (ao3) 🖤

kai + magic + boredom = trouble (high school au / both 18+)

• dog days are over ~ (here) (ao3) ⛓️💚✨

the post-wedding heartbreak never ceases. without him, life seems to lose its meaning. but despite your best efforts to depart and chase the void that seems to call to you, somehow you're held back. someone refuses to let you go. (tw: sui attempt)

• feeding 101 ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🌈

damon was a great teacher during elena's transition, but he's less than helpful when kai escapes hell and needs to feed. luckily, you're there at the right place, right time, and offer to teach him, (much to damon's disapproval). (heretic!kai)

• teensy little crush ~ (here) (ao3) ✨

you have a crush on kai you haven't been able to shake for weeks. unfortunately, you're too shy to do anything about it, either. but luckily, elena steps in with a plan, and helps you win over the witch's heart.

• the agreement ~ (here) (ao3) ✨💚(ish)

helping kai adjust to a normal life has its ups and downs, but he, of course, always wins in the end.

• good morning ~ (here) (ao3) ⛓️🖤✨

you and kai make an agreement to wake each other up one morning when the other's least expecting it. it has an… unexpected outcome. (tw: cnc / somnophilia)

• flying monkeys ~ (here) (ao3) 🌈

kai mentions in passing that he can fly a plane. you challenge him to prove it.

• new year's kiss ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🌈

it's tradition for new year's to start with a kiss… just like it's tradition to kiss under a mistletoe. and unfortunately, as traditional as mystic falls is, there's no way out but through

• of mice and... heretics? ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🌈

of all the problems to have in mystic falls, yours is mice... luckily, kai comes to the rescue (heretic!kai) (soft!kai)

• red ~ (here) (ao3) 💚✨

for forty years, kai only knew three shades of red. however, he finally finds his fourth and favorite the year he settles into a new life in mystic falls.

• bar shots ~ (here) (ao3) 🖤

your newest coworker takes his staring problem further up a notch.

• little wolf ~ (here) (ao3) ✨

kai bonds with the girl that lives down the hall from him in the boarding house. (wolf!reader)

• airport troubles ~ (here) (ao3) 🖤✨

you face some trouble with TSA while trying to catch your flight. the suspicious agent uses some unconventional methods to get the truth out of you.

• stormy weather ~ (here) (ao3) ⛓️✨

the rule is always the same: thirty minutes after it storms, kai can spend some time outside. that's when most people are still in their homes and it's too muddy for the children to go out yet. though this time, his father bends the rule, just a little, and lets his son out one wet, chilly afternoon. it just so happens that something bad is about to go down at that very same time, and luckily, kai is there to protect her. (tw: s3lf h4rm)

• our little secret ~ (here) (ao3) 🖤

you should've known wearing a short little skirt would rile him up. but then again... maybe you did it on purpose. (80s!step-brother!kai)

• make me a promise, please? ~ (here) (ao3) ✨💚 | requested

sometimes the easiest way to deal with pain is to feel it upon your skin. but of course, there's consequences to that. for years, you've been able to hide your scars, though, as you'll quickly discover, you can't hide the truth from your boyfriend for long.

• more than friends ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🖤

your "more than friends" status with kai is revealed when you lose hold of a silencing spell. jo, of course, has a lot to say about it. (80s!kai x witch!reader)

• his for eternity ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🖤⛓️💚 | requested

alaric steals a gemini grimoire, summoning you and kai back to mystic falls. trying to get it back proves to be a challenge with a risk kai’s not willing to take. (heretic!kai) (witch!reader)

• drunk words are sober thoughts ~ (here) (ao3) ✨

of course, on the night all your friends are hooking up, you get too drunk to take yourself home. walking home at night, drunk, and in mystic falls is not something on your bucket list, and to make matters worse, you can't help but feel a pair of eyes on you from a distance. so, feeling desperate, you call the contact given to you "for emergencies only," and hope that he shows.

• best cure for boredom ~ (here) (ao3) 🖤⛓️

you text your boyfriend, bored in class and looking for entertainment, but instead catch him in one of his needier moments. after two seconds of debate, you decide you have nothing better to do than to help him.

• favorite sociopath ~ (here) (ao3) ✨

damon and bonnie leave you in charge of babysitting kai. you accept willingly as time to get to know him.

• almost caught ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🖤

innocent cuddling turns into something more on one of the few nights a week joshua parker lets you spend alone time with kai. who can blame you, as strict as he is?

• bloodlust ~ (here) (ao3) 🖤⛓️

part of you knew it was wishful thinking to believe vampires couldn't sense period blood. your heretic best friend proves that true when he comes over to see you. in fact, to him, it smells even sweeter than the blood you normally offer, and he practically begs you for a taste. (heretic!kai) (virgin!kai)

• brooklyn ~ (here) (ao3) ✨

kai finds you wearing his shirt.

• see you at seven ~ (here) (ao3) ⛓️

you let kai feed off you for the first time. (heretic!kai)

• go to hell ~ (here) (ao3) 🖤⛓️

there's nothing like waking up realizing you've been kidnapped by mystic falls' own sociopath, malachai parker. will this day end with your blood on his hands, or will his sweet spot for you save your life? (tw: cnc)

• love bite ~ (here) (ao3) ⛓️

a make-out session gets heated. kinks are explored. a friends' dinner reveals all.

• nightmares ~ (here) (ao3) ✨

after three straight days of kai having nightmares, you can't take the cries anymore and need to intervene.

• he’s like a puppy ~ (here) (ao3) ✨

an argument starts up when damon and bonnie return to the boarding house to find you and kai spending time together. it goes south when you start to defend kai against your friends' remarks.

#1 - stomach ache ~ (here) (ao3) ✨

kai comforting you when you have a stomach ache

#2 - pink starbursts ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🌈

listening to caroline plan a party gets boring. kai finds a way to entertain himself.

#3 - can’t help that i love you ~ (here) (ao3) ✨

while you and kai aren't necessarily in a relationship, no one can ignore the way you are together. it started with kai's nightmares, bringing you to his side for nightly comfort. soon, gentle touches on his back led to full blown hugs and forehead kisses; simple conversation turned to long talks, and you're only getting closer every day. kai feels safe with you, and you're falling for him. maybe he's falling for you, too. this is why your "thing" needs to stop. right now. (soft!kai)

#4 - the dinner party ~ (here) (ao3) 🖤(minor ⛓️)

ten minutes before company arrives. five to finish up, two to clean up, one to fix your hair, and the last two to occupy yourself with something inconspicuous. a perfect amount of time. let's just hope they don't show up early...  

#5 - stupid, sad movie ~ (here) (ao3) ✨

since kai missed out on over a decade of movies, you now spend your nights watching the best ones. tonight's movie: titanic. (soft!kai)

#6 - “i took his virginity” ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🌈

you should've known kol would find out about your new boyfriend before you'd be able to tell him yourself. luckily, you're able to talk him into accepting kai, as long as he treats you right. (best friend!kol mikaelson x reader)

#7 - kissing disease ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🌈

despite the deal he had made with her several weeks ago, kai needs his sister for her medical opinion, again.

#8 - jumpscares ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🌈

kai has the worst timing for wanting your attention (best friend!kai)

#9 - hope ~ (here) (ao3) ✨⛓️

kai notices your scars.  (tw: s3lf h4rm)

#10 - aphrodisiac ~ (here) (ao3) ✨🌈

you can only listen to damon ramble on for so long before you lose focus. unfortunately, this time, your zoning out manages to cause maximum embarrassment when the rest of the group follows your line of sight.

#11 - sinful ~ (here) (ao3) 🖤

shoe humping with kai... specifically, those old 1994 converse

• dating yandere!kai ~ (here) ⛓️✨

• heretic kai x accident prone reader ~ (here) ✨

• driving lessons ~ (here) 🌈

• kai’s sex life ~ (here) 🖤⛓️

• king!kai / royalty au ~ (here) 🌈

• demon!kai x angel!reader // angel!kai x demon!reader ~ (here) 🖤⛓️

• how he would be academically / intelligence-wise ~ (here) [n/r]

• childhood best friends to lovers ~ (here) ✨💚

• werewolf alpha kai // kai's demigod parent (pjo) ~ (here) 🖤🌈

• kai with a lip ring ~ (here) 🖤(mild)

• comfort ~ (here) (ao3) ⛓️

a flashback to his childhood. a terrifying memory he thought he had repressed. | pre-1994 | (tw: [non-graphic] non-consent)

• the dog ~ (here) (ao3) ⛓️

kai hates the family dog. | pre-1994 | (tw: violence)

[astrojulia]

Disclaimer: These general free readings are made in good faith for entertainment purpose.

Warnings: Lord... you all are really depressed... or my cards loves some sad themes...

Hello Siren, how are you? I know it took a long time for this reading to come out... But I need to organize a lot of things before reading the cards... I hope you like it!!

How to pick a pile

When you have different cards to choose from in pile 1,2,3… look at each of those cards. Wait until someone reminds you of a memory. Perhaps a character’s outfit resembles one of your own. It is this pile that has its message. What if they all remind me of something? Go for the one with the strongest memory, one might look like her earring but another might be the favorite candy you got from your grandma when you vacationed at her house. But what if none reminds me of something? Take a deep breath and wait a little longer, without charging yourself or creating worries. Relax, some will awaken some memory in you, I promise! .

Credits: Piles images: here.

Pile 1 - Hello Kitty

It sounds like you've been through a rough patch lately, but you're determined to find new solutions and try things you've never done before. You're taking some brave chances and facing fears that would have held you back before. Good for you! It's important to keep moving forward so you don't get stuck in a rut.

Right now, your spirituality and faith are what's going to get you through. No material possessions can really help at this point, so keep holding on to what you believe in. I know it can be tough, and you might feel like giving up sometimes, but don't. You've got this!

It seems like some innocent choices you made in the past have led you here, but don't beat yourself up over it. We all make mistakes. The important thing is that you're taking responsibility and doing what you can to make things better.

The next few months might be challenging, and you may experience some heartbreak and loss. It's okay to feel shaken, but remember to turn to the things you know to be true. This is the start of a new beginning, and I know it might not be what you had in mind, but sometimes the best things come from unexpected places. You'll come out the other side a different person, with new dreams and goals. Even with all the challenges you'll face, I have a feeling your future self will be the happiest and most content yet. It's like you're seeing the beauty in the little things in life, and that's a wonderful thing. You're the rainbow after the storm!

Pile 2 - My Melody

Hey, it looks like you've been through a lot lately - a breakup, leaving your job, and maybe even finishing or dropping a course. But now, you're feeling hopeful about the future and excited about the possibilities ahead. You're not sure what your next steps will be, but you're open to exploring what you can do with what you have and how it can lead to something great down the road. It's a liberating feeling to have some free time and space to figure things out.

It seems like you've been putting a lot of energy into your life and personal growth, and now it's time to take a step back and let things unfold. Maybe you're feeling like you've done all you can for now and it's time to wait and see what happens next.

Over the next few months, you might start to see the results of your choices, but they may not turn out exactly as you planned. It's okay to feel disappointed or frustrated, but try not to be too hard on yourself. You did your best, and sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to. Just remember that this is all part of the process, and even if it's not a perfect outcome, it's still progress.

Pile 3 - Kuromi

I sense that you're feeling very down lately. It seems like you're constantly at odds with those around you, and that you're stuck in a rut with limited options. Your dreams for the future seem out of reach, and you're becoming increasingly disillusioned with reality. You might even be wondering if you're dealing with depression. If that's the case, I want to encourage you to seek help from a professional institution. There's no shame in asking for help, and it's important to prioritize your mental health.

It sounds like you've experienced a lot of loss, whether that's people or material possessions. The world crisis has affected us all in different ways, but it seems like it's been particularly hard on you. You may have found solace in spending more time on the internet or daydreaming, but ultimately, that won't bring you the happiness and fulfillment you crave.

Over the next three months, it's important that you take time to work through your emotional baggage. This will be a personal journey, but know that you're not alone. I'll be back soon to share some self-esteem lessons that I hope will help you. However, I want to stress that seeking help from a professional therapist should be your first priority. It's okay if you don't connect with the first one you see - keep searching until you find someone you trust.

It might be helpful to take some time to yourself, to retreat to a peaceful place where you can reflect on your life and what you want for your future. Don't be afraid to seek out new opportunities or to explore different paths. You have the power to create a better life for yourself, and I believe in you. Remember, hope is still alive - hold onto it and work towards a brighter future.

Pile 4 - Pompompurin

You seem to be in a really good mood today! It's very likely that you've recently entered into a serious relationship, started a new job or course, or started pursuing a new sport. But for many, it's a new love that's got you feeling all giddy and full of excitement! You're in that exhilarating infatuation phase of a relationship, laughing and smiling more than usual, and feeling grateful that it happened even faster than you expected.

It's obvious that you've been dreaming of this moment for a while now - you went from waiting patiently for it to happen to texting all of your friends that "he texted me 'Hi' today."

Over the next 3 months, you might notice that the initial excitement starts to fade away. This is because your new commitment will gradually escalate, and you will come to understand that this is something real that needs investment and seriousness. Although your partner can be the best, you can't be childish and think that it's just all fun and games. You will communicate more, maybe have an argument or two in the process, to put your points of view and realize that you both are different. You will mature and question whether this is the right relationship for you, and whether what you want now is what you'll want in the future. You'll be faced with some tough decisions, and desires will take over everything else, but you'll have enough wisdom to understand everything that happened and come out stronger and wiser.

Pile 5 - Cinnamoroll

Hey siren! It sounds like you might be feeling a bit confused right now and seeking some guidance. I totally understand - decision-making can be tough, especially when it feels like you have to leave something behind. It's important to remember that sometimes in life, we can't have it all and that making a choice means accepting the consequences that come with it.

It seems like you've been putting in a lot of hard work to get to where you are today, and now you're reaping the rewards all at once. It can definitely feel overwhelming, like when you plant too much in a farm game and all the crops grow on the same day, and it's the last day of the season! (If you got that reference, let me know in the comments, LOL!)

But the real question on your mind is whether or not you made the right choice. The good news is, you still have some time to figure things out over the next few months. No matter what you choose, though, you should be proud of your accomplishments and feel content with your achievements. Remember, the journey doesn't end here - you still have a lot of work ahead of you, but you know what you want and that's an important first step in achieving your goals.

Pile 6 -Pochacco

You are surrounded by barriers, voluntary barriers that you have put up to protect yourself. Where you are is comfortable, and you are provided for, but at what cost? Where are your diversions, your growth? You are protected, but also trapped. You have everything you need, but what will you do with it? Are you afraid of things happening again? I do believe that you've been through a lot, that the world has been cruel to you for no reason. You were hurt, used, and discarded in your innocence, and where you are now, there's no way that can happen again.

You always had to be on the lookout, on a battlefield where you had to be always rational, always attentive because there was no one to help you, no relief. And finally, this relief has come, hasn't it? You're now in a world where you don't need barriers to survive because you're protected.

In the next 3 months, this will fall apart naturally, and you will be removed by hook or by crook from this world. You know it's not for you. You always had so much courage to face the world, hoping that these people were only fleeting and that you would find better companions in the future. Where are you now? Hidden where these companions cannot find you. So, yes, you're going to leave, and you're going to have to relearn how to live in that world you left behind and create new worlds for yourself too. I know you've learned a lot in this isolation, and it's time to put it into practice. Your life in the tower will come to an end, and you can start preparing to say a final goodbye to it. It's okay; it won't hurt you.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold (Ice Cold)

Part 3 of You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader, Past! Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Description: After six months at sea, you're finally on your way home. Things with Jake are great and you've got a firm friend in Mickey Garcia. So why is it that the sight of San Diego harbor approaching faster and faster, makes you more and more nervous? How will your team, the other Daggers, take the news of Bradley and you? More importantly, how can you get even? You may not be the prettiest girl on North Island, but you know your own worth. Jake is proof of what you deserve. Revenge is going to feel good. After all, you know what they say; Revenge is a dish best served cold. In your case, Ice Cold.

Disclaimer: Female!Reader

Warnings: Cheating, Cursing, Sex, Sexual Themes, Minor mention of non-consensual rough sex, Panic Attack

The content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting taglist requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.I do my best to portray adult relationships in this fic. Please do not interact with this story if you feel you are not ready to read about these themes.

Word Count: 6418

A/N: Hello, Hello! Welcome to the next chapter of You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes! We're getting into the fun stuff now! Jake and Bitsie are back in San Diego and it's time to get even! All of the revenge ideas came from some collective brainstorming done by everyone in the Controlled Chaos Squad! Thanks to all of you for these fabulous ideas!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

It's been six months since you left San Diego. Six of the most challenging months you've ever spent deployed. The best part of the entire mission has been Jake. After the scare of the standoff while on patrol part way through your mission, you started to move on with Jake. There are only so many romantic things that people can do while on an aircraft carrier, but somehow Jake seemed to manage. You feel like an entirely new person with him. Every time you doubt yourself, he's there to prop you up, support you.

As the carrier approaches the docks in San Diego, however, you can't help feeling nervous. Your stomach is roiling and you have this nasty suspicion that Bradley will be waiting on the docks to greet you along with the rest of the Dagger Squadron. As you stand there with your duffel in your left hand, the fingers of the right are locked in a fist. But your hand opens of its own accord when someone comes to stand on your side. You don't have to look to your right to know who is standing there. The gentle pressure of a skin-warmed ring against the back of your hand is proof enough. 

"Home again, huh?" Jake sounds tired, but so excited to be home. "Dinner, tomorrow night?"

You smile, all the tense roiling in your stomach turning into butterflies in an instant. "Pick me up at 6?"

"You got it, Bitsie!" He's smiling too, and when you sneak a look to your side he's looking right at you, something indescribable in his eyes. Before you can ask him what's on his mind, you're joined by Mickey and Mara. Jake gets lost in the hustle and bustle aboard the ship, but you’re not worried. He’ll find you before he heads home.

"Home again!" You're not surprised at all that Mickey's vibrating out of his skin as the docks grow ever closer. You had no idea that he was married or that he had a baby boy with his wife before this mission. He must miss them desperately.

"Yup! Are you ready to see your family again?" You smile easily as Mickey hugs you tight in his excitement.

"I'm so ready to see them again. I've missed them." His voice is fond as he clutches the pendant he wears permanently. The one that’s a locket containing his wife and son’s pictures. "Did I ever thank you for bringing us back to the ship safely when we ran into that SU-57?" 

"Why would you thank me, Mickey?" You're really not sure why he'd thank you. You didn't do anything really other than nearly having a panic attack and throw your weight around in the flight ops center.

"You got Captain Mills to allow you to fix the radar system. It's funny, y'know. The only thoughts in my mind were my family. But Jake? He was only thinking about you. He's crazy about you. I've never seen him as happy as he has been over the past few months. That's all because of you." Mickey's got his eyes peeled, scanning the crowd looking for his family. 

"He makes me really happy too, Mick." You laugh at the way he leaps into the air all of a sudden, waving at a gorgeous woman holding a chubby baby. "Enjoy your few days off before we're all back on North Island!"

He doesn't even respond before jostling his way to the front of the crowd so he can run right to his family. You follow along at a far more sedate pace. There's nobody waiting for you on the docks. Maybe Callie? But you don't have any family waiting for you. Sure enough, you're absorbed into the celebrations as the Dagger swarm their returning members. Jake’s found his way back to your group after being separated as well. It doesn't surprise you at all that they don't give you a second glance. You've never truly been a part of their family. You're happy enough to accept the hugs from Mara's older sister and those from the rest of your team.

Of course, when you turn back around looking for Jake, you see the two people you never want to see again. They're smiling as widely as can be as they mob you with hugs and in Bradley's case, kisses. The first press of Bradley’s lips to yours has you nearly retching in disgust. Has he always smelled so strongly of patchouli? Did his lips always feel so cold against your own? You push him away as hard as you possibly can once the shock wears away. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand.

"What the hell, Bradshaw?" The anger you've been carefully fostering for the past six months is finally making an appearance.

"What do you mean, Honey? I just kissed my girl to welcome her home." How dare he sound so confused?

"Your girl?!" You walk up to him and poke your finger at his sternum. "I haven't been your anything since I came to your house the day before I left and found you cumming in a trashy blonde named Britney."

He's smirking at you. "Are you sure that wasn't just a bad dream you had, baby?"

"Yes, I’m sure!” You can’t hide your frustration as he keeps trying to put his hands on you. And then there’s Natasha. The minute she sees you, she’s telling you absolutely everything you’ve done wrong over the past months. That list, of course, includes not calling her or Bradley the entire time you were on the carrier. 

Bradley tells Natasha everything. Why, then, do they both look so happy to see you? Why do they look like you never broke up with Bradley? Your temper is fraying and while you’re avoiding Bradley’s hands, you’re looking for Jake. It’s obvious you’re not paying attention to either of them, though, so they switch tactics. 

Bradley gets uncomfortably close to you, curling a strand of your hair between thick fingers and whispering in your ears. “D’you miss me so much, honey, that you were avoiding me so that you didn’t miss me more? What other explanation am I to think of for why you had a nightmare of me fucking another girl? It hurts a little that you’re so distrustful, but we can get past it. You’re home now, with me. I’m going to make sure my girl is fucked properly tonight.”

His words make you feel completely sick. You’ve only heard this particular tone from him one other time - the night he’d called you a slut for being nice. He’s going to dominate your body and soul if you don’t escape from him. But none of your friends, not Jake or Mara and Mickey are in eye or ear-shot. So you take matters into your own hands and step right on his instep as hard as you can, hissing words of your own into his ear.

“I’m NOT your girl, Bradshaw. Not anymore. You couldn’t see a good thing if it was standing in front of you, holding your hand.” Your chest heaves with every word. “Don't gaslight me, you ass. We're through. As far as I'm concerned, never seeing you again will be too soon!"

 There's steam pouring out of your ears as you go in search of Jake. But you don't find him. Not until you reach the parking lot. He's talking to Coyote and smiling as he grabs keys from his friend's hand. When you walk up, you get a smile from Coyote but barely one from Jake. Coyote looks between you and Jake for several beats before loping back towards where Payback and Mickey are with Mickey's family. When you turn back to Jake, he's glaring at you. 

"What happened?" Did Jake get bad news?

Your face drops as he spits out, "What happened? So you’re back with me, huh? What happened to Bradshaw? Was it all some plot? Make me fall for you and yank the rug out from under me? If this is some sick foreplay between the two of you and Phoenix, keep me out of it."

"No!" You try to take his hand, but he avoids every move you make.

"Then why was he kissing you?" He saw Bradley kiss you. No wonder he feels like you betrayed him. 

"It's this twisted, gaslighting game the two of them are playing. He had the gall to accuse me of dreaming that he cheated. I pushed him away. I don't want his kisses anymore, Jake. Just yours." He's looking at you intently, cataloging all your facial expressions.

"Prove it." There's something in his face that you can just see. He looks resigned, so sure that you're going to let him down.You hesitate just a little, but your resolve is set when you see his expressions freeze into an emotionless mask. You step forward after setting your duffel down next to Jake's own. You stand on tiptoes and tug his mouth down to yours. This kiss sets your blood aflame in a greater magnitude than the chill Bradley’s had sent coursing through your veins. Jake tastes so good, always. You could drown in his cologne and stay wrapped in his arms for the rest of your life. You pull away when the need for oxygen becomes apparent and just stare into his eyes.

"I promised, didn't I? That I'd prove to the world that he was wrong about you? You don't have to test me, Jake." You cup the back of his head, carding your fingers through the soft, short strands at the base of his neck as you look into his emerald eyes. At your words, Jake drags you into another head-spinning, intense kiss. This time when you break away, it is because of whistling and cheering. Your face feels hot and flushed as you hug Jake for a few more minutes before turning back around.

The Dagger Squad is arrayed around you, and you can tell based on their faces who has sided with Bradley and who has sided with you and Jake. Mickey, Mara and your team are smiling at you. So are Coyote, Payback, Callie, Omaha. The remainder of the team, composed of Fritz, Phoenix, Bob, Harvard and Yale, are glaring at you. At the forefront of the glaring faction is Bradley. Jake's tense as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

"Oh, baby." Bradley's voice sends shivers down your spine. "What happened, huh? You rolled into bed with Bagman and you decided that I had cheated?” He looks sadly at Phoenix and Bob, appearing for all the world like a victim. “I thought you knew better than to get involved with Bagman! He corrupts everything he touches. I hoped you’d never end up in his clutches. Don’t come running back to me when he dumps you because you’re too innocent for him." 

Jake's jaw is clenched as he glares right at Bradley's face. You forestall Jake's poison tongue with a kiss to the cheek and decide to unleash your own. You pull your iPad out, scrolling to the pictures and video you'd taken the night before you left for the mission, when you had gone to Bradley's house. You’re so thankful that you have multiple backups of the incriminating footage. You pick the videos to play one after the other.

"I cheated?!" Your voice is more menacing than you've ever heard it. "If I cheated, then who's this blonde on your dick? I don't make accusations without proof." You show the aviators, who you'd thought were your friends, the videos first, keeping the sound off so you don't have to hear Britney's fake moans spill out. You can’t help the grim smile curling your lips as Bradley and Natasha both blanche. Bob, for one, is frowning intensely as the videos play. 

"Who's the cheater now, huh?" Your smile is a shark’s grin, bared for blood as you go for the jugular. "She gives it better to you than I can, right? Well, then. I found someone who can give it to me better than you ever could." You turn to Natasha next. "Then, there's the matter of you, Miss Firebird. You knew he was cheating. Multiple people have told me that the only Britney they knew was Bradley’s cousin from San Francisco.”

“Obviously, that’s not true. I mean,” Your tone is cutting and darkly mischievous as you continue. “Come on, Bradley. I knew you were from the middle of nowhere. But I had no idea you were redneck enough to fuck your cousin. But that’s a whole ‘nother issue, I guess.” You can hear Jake’s chuckle as you continue.

“Back to you, Trace. I thought you were my friend. Sisters before Misters and all that. Guess I was wrong. You can keep your so-called friendship. Maybe he'll finally turn around and realize that you're in love with him and give you a chance." They’re both spluttering now, Natasha’s face is neon red with mortification at your words and Bradley looks ready to throttle you. But you don’t pay either of them any mind, moving right to Jake’s truck.

He's already loaded your bag into his truck and has the door open for you. As you step up into the cab, you kiss him, relishing in how good it feels. It's with Jake that you finally feel at peace. He’s smiling from ear to ear as he gets you settled in the passenger seat, even going so far as to buckle you in. For several moments it’s silent as you wait for Jake to get settled in the driver’s seat. Right before he turns the truck on, he tips your mouth to meet his again. You can feel his smile against your lips as he peppers your mouth with kisses.

“That, sweetheart? That was amazing. I’ve never seen Phoenix at a loss for words before. You stripped them down so skillfully. You also exposed them for what they are. Manipulators and fair-weather friends.” He kisses you one more time before taking your hand in his securely. When you look out of the windshield, you can see all of the aviators talking to and over Bradley and Natasha. Your entire team has joined in. It doesn't look like either of them will have very many friends by the end of the day.

“I - I didn’t overdo it?” Your voice is quiet as you trace your fingers over the smooth silhouette of Jake’s academy ring.

“No, sweets. You did not. You gave them a talking-to that someone should have long ago. I’m not even sure how long it’s been since someone who wasn’t a pilot put them in their place.” He kisses your knuckles and you let the tension drain away.

You spend the rest of the night with Jake. Your earlier words may very well have been hyperbole, but you find out that you spoke the truth that night when Jake fucks you so hard you see stars and when you feel so loved that you could never forget it. You wake up the next morning to messages on your phone. The first few are from Mara and Mickey, including one group chat named REVENGE in all-caps. The last one is from Bob, apologizing for Natasha and everything she's done to cause you pain. He also offers to help out however and whenever you need. So of course, you invite him to meet you for brunch.

When you and Jake meet Mickey, his wife and son, Mara, Bob, Meg and Callie for brunch, that's when the planning for the Revenge begins. Most of it happens while you've got Baby Alex on your lap, keeping the little guy distracted while he plays with your bracelet. You feel Jake’s eyes on you the entire time you’re cuddling the child close. You can’t resist feeding him bites of food or pressing kisses into his downy soft hair either. Jake gives Bob the run-down of your plan hatched in quiet moments on the carrier. He's in 100%, at least for the parts involving Natasha. It helps too, that he's roommates with her and can give you unfettered access to her bedroom when you need it.

It might be a bit juvenile, playing pranks on the two of them, but what else can you do? Jake, Mickey and Mara had helped you pore over Naval regulations for hours while you were on the carrier. Even with the evidence you have, they'd only get a slap on the wrist each and be free to do this to anyone else they like. And there are some lines you just won't cross. That is your first, and really, only, rule. 

You want revenge, not to cause grievous bodily harm. Everything you and your friends do needs to be semi-legal and absolutely untraceable to you. Additionally, nothing you do can happen on base. For Bradley, you’ve got that on lock. Early on in your relationship, he’d given you spare keys to his house, the Bronco, and the security alarm and camera codes. He’d told you himself that he never changes the passcodes and that he even completely forgets to turn the alarms or cameras on. He’ll never know what hits him. For Natasha, that’s why you’ve conscripted Bob. As her roommate, he can pass you the keys to the apartment while maintaining an air of plausible deniability.

You wait for a while to set your revenge plans in motion. Each day, you fall even deeper in love with Jake. With each day, you also see how Bradley and Natasha's reputations have fallen since you returned to San Diego, as well. Nobody speaks to Bradley or Natasha anymore unless it’s mission critical. Bob, poor sweet Bob, has been getting the brunt of Natasha’s ill-temper all day. She's rude and snappy, basically only barking orders at him, and barely, barely listening to his advice. 

The day after Bob requests to fly with Jake is the day all of your plans are put into motion. It starts with keys. You still have Bradley and Natasha’s phone numbers. So you buy cheap keys for various doors from an Etsy seller who collects them and keeps the rare ones and attach tags on them. When everything is said and done you have over a hundred keys with Bradley’s phone number and over a hundred with Natasha’s phone number all containing the message: “Call if lost. IMPORTANT!” Over the past weeks you’ve been leaving the keys around the greater San Diego area, hoping that someone will start calling either of them to pick the key up. It starts right after Mav announces the wingman change. You and your team are running simulations against an F-22 you’ve got in the corner of the hangar when you hear the way Phoenix starts yelling at Bob.

She’s getting into his personal space, all accusatory and angry about why he’s leaving her when he’s supposed to have her back. That’s when her phone rings. She picks it up mid-yell, holding one finger out before barking, “WHAT!”, into the device. Her brow furrows as she listens intently to the person on the other end.

“My key? No, I haven’t lost any keys.” They’re insistent, the good samaritan on the other side. Natasha tells them repeatedly that it’s not her key, but eventually, she gives in. Her huff of breath is over-exaggerated as she marches out of the hangar. You watch the show for the next two weeks as Lieutenant’s Trace and Bradshaw get call after call. All about lost keys. Their tempers are even shorter than they have been since they got back. They’re letting it affect their work in addition to their personal time. Natasha’s been like a dog with a bone, trying and failing to figure out where the keys are coming from. But she doesn't have the time or the patience to actually figure anything out. Bradley seems to care less. In fact you’ve heard him on the phone with Britney asking her to pick up the keys for him.

It’s time to up the game. Mara’s sister works for one of the big drug companies. When you were discussing revenge plans, the top suggestion was an erectile dysfunction drug trial. It just so happens that Mara’s sister has friends in the pharmaceutical industry looking for candidates for an ED trial. It’s a matter of a couple of hours to sign Bradley up for as many trials as Mara’s sister can refer you to with his phone number.  Bob also manages to get Britney’s phone number as well, so you sign Bradley up with her phone number as well.

When Bradley’s at the Hard Deck one night, singing away on the piano with Britney perched on his lap, you drive to his house. He hasn’t changed the alarms or even turned them on. You pull out the placebo ED pills Mara gave you weeks ago and sneak into the master bedroom. The entire house smells like patchouli and cotton candy. Britney must be the source of that atrocious, sickeningly-sweet, juvenile scent. The house is also a complete mess. All the pictures are awry and there is shattered glass and clothing everywhere. As you pass the kitchen, you can see the trash can overflowing near the back door and you can smell something rotten the whole way. Carole Bradshaw would have a heart attack if she ever saw her house like this.

The bedroom, too, is covered in trash and clothes and littered with used condoms. At least he’s getting his dick wet? The white sheets on his bed look gray with dirt and stiff as a board. You shudder in disgust, glad that at least you’re wearing gloves so you don’t have to touch a single filthy surface. You’re also immensely glad that you never have to sleep in that bed ever again. You place the pills conspicuously in the medicine cabinet and leave.

The next day is when the first of the drug trial screenings start. It’s hardly a surprise when the squadron and your team are at the Hard Deck that night and Britney comes storming in.

“Baby!” Her voice is squeaky and high-pitched. She’s so angry she’s quivering in her fake Gucci slides. “Tell me why I just got a phone call from a drug company talking about participating in a drug trial?”

“I dunno, Baby.” He shrugs, coolly taking a sip from the beer bottle in his hand. “It’s probably just a spam call.”

“Yeah, see, I thought so too. But they weren’t talking ‘bout me! They were asking about you! For an erectile dysfunction drug trial.” Britney’s last words are so loud that most of the bar goes silent.

“So I went to check your medicine cabinet.” She pulls something out of her tiny purse. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” 

You turn into Jake’s chest, putting your arms around him as you muffle your laughter. Jake plays it off by tugging you into a kiss. Most of the bar is snickering at the free show Britney’s putting on. The final straw is when she sees you and walks right to you as fast as she can with her weird mincing gait.

“Did you know?” You blink at her.

“You didn’t?” At her shocked face, you continue.

 “Aww, you’re really just a kid aren’t you? It’s nothing on you. Some men just need a little assistance to get it up for a pretty girl. It’s just biological. You’ve been with Bradley for how long? Six months at least, right? He’s probably been ashamed of it. You should be as supportive as possible!” Your voice is anything but quiet, and in the hush the bar is under it carries quite far. 

Bradley’s face is an unflattering puce shade as Britney flounces back to him and starts fawning all over him. It's only a couple of minutes before he pays and drags Britney out with him, still chattering on and on about how, "Erectile Dysfunction isn't anything to be ashamed about, Baby!" and, "Aww, you're still my daddy, Braddy!"

Bradley gets phone calls day and night for the next two weeks. He’s the talk of North Island. You can’t count the number of times you’ve heard others talk about how even Lieutenant Bradshaw fell victim to a man’s worst ailment. Everytime he walks into the room, people ask him how many pills it takes. At the Hard Deck, it’s even worse. Sure, all the old-timers buy him sympathy drinks, but even when Britney is there, all the badge bunnies that had fawned over him give him disgusted looks and walk away as fast as they can. For a man who prides himself on his prowess in bed and out of it, this is a shot to his ego that he can’t take.

You and Jake stay apart from it all, casually watching the hits to Bradley’s ego day by day. Bradley doesn’t hide a single longing glance whenever he catches Jake whirling you around on the dance floor. Whether Britney is on his arm or not, his eyes settle on your face, heavy and uncomfortable. Jake makes all the sensations wash away like water off a duck’s back though. You can’t believe now that you ever thought Bradley Bradshaw would marry you or that you’d ever spend the rest of your life with him. You’re finally becoming aware of what a relationship is supposed to be like. 

It doesn't surprise you at all one morning when Bradley walks into the officer’s ready room on the phone with his coffee cup in one hand. You only hear a one-sided conversation, but it's enough to have you in paroxysms of glee. Glee which you can’t show, but feel nonetheless.

"I understand, sir. But I did not submit my phone number for your drug trial." There's a pause as Bradley frowns into his coffee cup. "What do you mean there were multiple submissions of my phone number? My girlfriend's too?!" 

More glaring and now he's dragging his fingers through his curls. "What do you mean they were anonymously submitted? You don't have a single name? A single phone number?" 

His mouth is agape now. "There was a webform to fill out? You're not tracking any user data? None at all?"

Bradley's frown is thunderous as he listens to the last words the representative on the line says. "What the hell does that mean, huh? A double-blind trial? I don't care what it means for your fucking trial. I don't have erectile dysfunction, I don't need medication for it, and I would like you to stop calling my girlfriend and I about it!"

He hangs up the phone and launches the ceramic cup in his hand in your direction. You duck, as do your team members, avoiding the ceramic missile as it impacts against the wall, shattering into a million sharp shards while leaving a sizable divot in the drywall. There is something unhinged in his gaze as he stomps towards you.

“YOU! YOU DID THIS!” You look at him with your mouth parted. “YOU SIGNED ME UP FOR THESE ED TRIALS!”

“Lieutenant Bradshaw. Why the hell would I do that?” You know why you did it. His reaction more than ever tells you that you made the right choices for your revenge. The whole point is that he has no idea why you did it. “I deleted your number. I don’t have it anymore.”

“But your boyfriend” He crooks his fingers as he says that last word, “still does. How do I know that he didn’t give you my number?”

Bradley’s completely in your personal space right now.

“You don’t.” Your voice is carefree as you shrug your shoulders and turn around.

He turns you around roughly, his hands too tight around your upper arms as he breaths crazy-eyed into your face.

“FIX IT!” He’s roaring now, acting for all the world like a toddler who hasn’t gotten his way.

You try ineffectively shrugging him off, but when that doesn’t work, you settle for responding to him as calmly as you can.

“Fix it? Lieutenant Bradshaw, I didn’t think you thought so highly of me.” You’re channeling Jake at his most infuriating at the moment. “How would I be able to fix something that I didn’t even do?”

He seems dumbstruck by the thought. This? Is this really the man who became one of the top Naval Aviator’s in the nation? You shrug him off finally just as Maverick calls him in for his next hop. He’s flying with Phoenix, Harvard, and Yale. This is the perfect chance to put the next part of your plan into action. 

You head out of the room, making your way towards the locker rooms. You pass Jake and Bob on the way. Jake’s sweat mussed and tousled, smiling from ear-to-ear as he chats cheerily with Bob. They both give you identical Cheshire Cat grins as you walk into the female officer’s locker room. Natasha’s always been diligent about closing her locker. But you know the combination. It’s the matter of minutes to open your own locker and take out the small bottles you’d packed that morning.

You’ve never thought to thank your lucky stars that Natasha is a billion times cleaner than Bradley. She’s got all of her toiletries neatly arrayed on the shelf. It’s a matter of a few moments for you to pull out her shampoo and conditioner. You unscrew the bottles and carefully squirt in half of each bottle you brought into her shampoo and half into her conditioner. You shake the bottles well and set them carefully back into her locker, ensuring the door is locked as you do so. Now all you have to do is wait. For the next few months you watch as Natasha’s hair grows lighter and sparklier. You’re always careful to use the weakest bleaching agent you could get, in this case a mixture of peroxide and baking soda. The best part is how every time she switches out her hair products you let her hair breathe before you go back to mixing the glitter and peroxide- baking soda solution in. She always gets so cocky when she switches her products.

Glitter is a bitch to get out of clothes and hair. You know from experience. Jake’s niece had sent you a glitter encrusted paper crown while you’d been deployed. One wear and you’d been picking glitter off your person for the rest of the voyage. Paired with the gradual lightening of her hair and it’s fascinating to see how the prim, straight laced Phoenix loses her composure. Her hair hasn’t lightened too much from her natural chocolate color. She looks great, actually, the bitch. She’s just so Type A about it, that’s it normal for you to hear a rant in the locker room if she’s ever in the room at the same time you are. The motes of glitter are so small that she looks like a runway-ready supermodel at all times.

Summer roars into San Diego in mid-May. That’s about when you begin to hear the susurrations of another deployment coming the Daggers’ way. This time, it’s an eight week joint training exercise in Nevada. The Navy and Air Force are sending jets and their pilots for it. There’s a lot of Navy pride on show on North Island coming up on the day Bradley, Natasha, Payback and Fanboy, Omaha and Halo leave. The entire base is festooned in flags and Naval squadron banners and pennants. Unsurprisingly, Britney is fawning all over Bradley, doing a kiss and cry, bawling crocodile tears as he gets into his jet and flies away.

That night, you sneak into Bradley’s house and plant frozen shrimp in his shower rods, and a frozen fish in the trunk of the Bronco as your final act of revenge. Britney isn’t around. Not at all. You don’t think she’s even been back to the house since Bradley left. It doesn’t even surprise you a couple of days later when you see her at the Hard Deck all over another aviator. You don’t even bother giving her any attention. She’s a case of Chlamydia or Gonorrhea or any number of other sexually transmitted diseases waiting to happen. She’s also not your problem.

Those eight weeks are genuinely some of the most fun you’ve ever had. North Island is finally as much fun as it was before your life fell apart and you had to build it all back together piece by piece. Slowly, you let the ache for vengeance, for revenge fade away too. When you think of Bradley now, you see him as he is. A hurt, distraught boy who lost everything, everyone who loved him. A boy who never truly knew how to make the most of his life. A boy who is scared to trust anyone or anything with who he is, because everyone else who he trusted with himself is gone now.

You turn over a new leaf when the remaining Daggers get home again. You treat Bradley and Natasha, no, Lieutenants Bradshaw and Trace, as professionally as possible. You’re not overtly kind or adversarial. You treat them like any other distant colleague. That’s what works. At least until you walk into the officer’s ready room one afternoon in search of coffee. Bradshaw’s in there, talking to someone on the phone. It’s another one-sided conversation. You try your best not to eavesdrop, though your heart drops when you hear what he’s talking about. 

"What do you mean, you've never seen it, Britney?" He sounds distraught. "Th-that was my mom's wedding ring. She wore it until the day she died. It's one of the only pieces of her I have left. Other than, of course, the house I let you trash."

You can barely hear the squeakiness of her voice as she responds back to him.

"It's always on my dresser, Britney. You know that. You've looked at it enough." Whatever she says has him chuckling mirthlessly. "If we weren't through already, I would've broken up with you for this."

You finish pouring your coffee in silence. When you turn around, your mug in hand, Bradley's standing on the other side of the bar.

"You heard that, huh?" You nod, not sure what you can say, how you could possibly console him.

"I bet you're happy, aren't you? To see me in so much pain?" His eyes are red-rimmed and so sad. 

"No, Bradshaw, I'm not." You inhale. "I know what Carole Bradshaw means to you. I know what both your parents mean to you. Why would I be happy to cause you pain?"

"B-because I was happy to cause you pain. For months. If you hadn't wised up, I would probably still be doing it." He looks so lost. "You wouldn't by any chance know where my mom's ring could've gone, do you? I mean you pranked everything else. The shrimp was a good touch."

"I didn't take it, Bradshaw." He doesn't believe you, you know that by the look on his face. It reminds you how at one point you knew him better than you knew yourself.

You leave him in the ready room alone after that. But Carole's ring still remains in your brain. You try everything you can to find it, but ultimately have to give in. It's not like you have a tracking chip on Britney after all. Life does what it always seems to. It moves on. You don't forget the pain Bradley and Natasha put you through, but you do forgive them for it.

As luck would have it, one of Jake's old squad mates is getting married in Italy. It's a fall wedding and supposed to be gorgeous. You buy your dress easily, but it's your jewelry that you struggle with. Meg suggests a cute little Mom and Pop owned pawn shop downtown, so when you have a free weekend afternoon you head down there. You find your necklace and earrings easily. But the sweet older lady manning the till also tells you there is a matching bracelet which is supposed to be a part of the set. 

She points you to a dusty case and it's while you search for that bracelet that you see it. It's Carole Bradshaw's wedding ring. The oval cut diamond looks just like you remember it, and it's complete with the engraving on the inside of the band, "My darling Carole, I'll love you forever. Your Nick." You can't resist purchasing it along with the necklace set. 

"That's a beautiful ring, isn't it, Miss?" She's so elegant, her hair gray and eyes filmy but still beautiful and poised.

"It is." You take a breath and explain to her it's significance.

"So you're returning the ring to your ex?" You can't blame her for asking the question. 

"Yeah, I think I am." That's when you get an idea. "I noticed that you have a security system in here. Do you remember what day you bought this ring?"

"Yes, I do. It was a young blonde girl. She was sobbing about being pregnant and needing money." She shrugs. "So, I bought the ring. Between you and me though, I don't think she actually was. She walked into the liquor store next door and walked out drinking from a bottle of Vodka."

She's smiling at you, and you smile back, not surprised in the slightest that Britney would go so far to dupe an old lady.

"Can you pull up the security camera footage for that day? And send it to this address with the ring?" You smile as she calls her son in from the backroom. You repeat your request to him and in short while you've sent Carole Bradshaw's ring home.

It feels like the end of an arc of your life. You finally feel at peace. When you pull into your driveway, and see Jake standing there, you know for sure you made the right choice. Now and always. It's time to live your life with the man you love on your terms. Not for revenge.

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[wonhaebunny]

bkg as klaus hargreeves. give the boy ghostie powers that the class dont know about THANK YOU

Bakugou's a weird guy.

Most of his classmates realise this pretty quickly upon meeting him. He dresses like a delinquent, clothes hanging crumpled and loose off his frame, and yet consistently gets some of the highest grades in the class. He stomps around yelling like he's overcompensating for something, and then flawlessly demonstrates a level of combat ability to rival most established pro heroes. His total inability to hold a normal, civilised conversation without cursing is baffling, and for all that his voice fills any room that he enters, they remain aware that they don't really... know anything about him.

The weirdest thing about Bakugou, however, has nothing to do with his temper or his grades, or his ridiculous quirk control, or even his deceptively introverted personality.

The weirdest thing about Bakugou is that he talks to himself.

Not loudly, or animatedly in the way that one would see in movies. He doesn't have an imaginary friend or the like, as evidenced by the judgmental glare he levels upon Kirishima when the red-head works up the nerve to ask. "Imaginary friends?" he echoes flatly. "What are you, five?"

Nonetheless, when the class is assigned a particularly challenging worksheet in class and the room settles into silence, Bakugou will start to mumble. It’s never loud enough for the words to be audible, but to his classmates, it almost sounds like he’s having a one-sided conversation. He’ll pause every few moments, maybe nod or huff to himself. It’s unsettling in its accuracy, because they could swear that there’s actually someone there. Ashido has even ‘accidentally’ walked through the space around Bakugou just to make sure, but that had just earned her a vaguely amused look from the blond.

It’s a few months into their first year when Todoroki, who has moved past his brooding-emo-boy phase and is now settling into his arguably worse budding-conspiracy-theorist one, approaches Bakugou in the locker rooms before training. The older boy is muttering to himself again, crimson gaze flickering between his own clothes and an empty space on the bench next to him.

“Bakugou,” Todoroki says, jerking Bakugou out of his distraction.

“What?”

“Who are you talking to.”

“Your mom.”

Todoroki tilts his head at this. “My mother is in the psychiatric ward, and is not due to be discharged in the foreseeable future.”

Bakugou’s vaguely irked expression shifts to one of discomfort. He curls his lip, awkwardness shared by the other boys who are now pretending they’re deaf. Bakugou is not given the same mercy, as evidenced by Todoroki’s unfaltering attention.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re good at making conversation?” he asks dryly.

“No?”

“Exactly.”

Todoroki looks vaguely offended. “You were talking to someone, though,” he insists.

Bakugou sighs, before slinging his bag over his shoulder and turning on his heel to face the other boy. 

“You really wanna know?” he asks, voice low. 

Todoroki nods, eyes wide.

Bakugou’s lips curl up at the edges, an entertained glint coming into his eye. He strides forward, leaning in until their chests almost brush.

“I see dead people,” he tells Todoroki solemnly.

Then he shoves past him, snickering his way out of the locker room. 

The tension in the locker room dissipates, all the boys relaxing with good-natured grumbles.

“He’s such a dick,” Sero complains, patting Todoroki’s shoulder as he and a cackling Kaminari follow the blond out. 

“I don’t understand,” Todoroki says bluntly, still standing where Bakugou had left him. “Why are you all laughing? Does he really see dead people?”

“He’s messing with you,” Ojirou says, a vaguely pitying look in his eyes. “Just ignore him, man.”

Todoroki trails after his exiting classmates quietly, a contemplative frown twisting his expression.

The others know to brush off Bakugou’s bullshit, but Todoroki evidently doesn’t. Days later when the class is on a training excursion out to the woods east of the school, Kaminari perks up at the sight of a rotting cabin on the outskirts of the grounds.

“Oh, sick, my brother told me about this!” he exclaims. “Apparently a groundskeeper died here a couple years back, and, like, haunts the woods now!”

Most of the girls immediately begin to protest at the prospect, but Tokoyami perks up.

“Finally… a worthy opponent of the darkness…” he murmurs seriously. 

Aizawa looks like he’s moments from tendering his own resignation.

“No such thing happened,” he says flatly. “Everyone split into the assigned groups.”

He goes ignored.

“What, is this dude’s ghost gonna come and kill us now?” Mineta sniffs, scowling with an exaggeration that suggests he’s trying to look less spooked than he actually is.

“Her ghost,” Katsuki corrects listlessly, scrolling through his phone. 

“Huh?”

“It’s a woman. Or—was one.”

Todoroki looks like Christmas has come early. 

“You can see her?!”

“Hell yeah I can, she’s ugly as shit.”

“What does she look li—” Todoroki is cut off by the synchronised groans of just about half the class as he’s bodily dragged out of Bakugou’s sight, with the latter receiving several disapproving looks.

“Stop it!” Kirishima tells the older blond, wagging a finger in his face like he’s a dog that just pissed all over the couch. “Todoroki is an impressionable boy!”

“She’s right next to you,” Katsuki calls to Todoroki, flipping Kirishima off in the process. 

“Bakugou!” six different people snap at once.

By the time Bakugou’s been wrestled into the opposite end of the group, Todoroki’s already begun trying to communicate with the invisible presence supposedly at his side, eyes wide and hands gesturing wildly.

It takes Bakugou half an hour to stop laughing.

Later that month, Kirishima finds himself bounding towards Bakugou’s table at the cafeteria. The blond always manages to seat himself at an empty table before the others even make it into the hall, but he’s long since stopped trying to question it. Bakugou’s poker face means that no one tries to sit with them, so it’s a guaranteed free table every day. The moment he approaches to slide into his usual seat, Bakugou, who’s been staring intently at his phone, looks up and cocks his head.

“You don’t wanna sit there, Shitty Hair.”

“Huh? Why not? It looks fine to me?”

The blond blinks, before shrugging.

“Suit yourself,” he says placidly.

Kirishima stares at him, and then at the empty spot. He chews his lip, before sitting down anyway. Immediately, he’s springing out of it as an icy chill sears the seat of his pants.

“What the f—” he cries, whirling around to inspect the chair closely for any spilled drinks or ice. He then pats his behind, which also comes out dry. “Dude, what the hell, I swear that seat was freezing cold!”

He turns to Bakugou, only to find him with his nose still buried in his phone, a smirk tugging at his lips faintly.

“Did you plan this?” he asks the blond suspiciously. “Is this a prank?”

At this, finally, Bakugou puts his phone down to pin Kirishima with an unamused look.

“I’ve been sitting here this whole fucking time, dipshit.”

Kirishima pouts, reluctantly sinking into the empty seat next to the first one.

“Sometimes I think Todoroki’s onto something with the ghost theories,” he mumbles sulkily, stuffing a chunk of pork into his mouth.

Bakugou just grins.

It comes to a head during the first weekend of break, after their first year ends. The class decides to go on a karaoke outing, all together at once. This is their first mistake. Approximately fifteen minutes after they meet and begin the walk to the karaoke bar, Shouji complains of a strange smell. Two minutes after that, Mineta passes out. They’re not overly fussed about this, and are in the process of debating whether or not it’s morally permissible to leave his body in an alley to collect on the way back, when Jirou follows. From there, they drop like flies. 

They wake up in an empty room with water-stained grey walls, wrists chained to the ground.

“Aw, man,” Kirishima says mildly. 

“Shit, they brought Mineta with us,” Jirou mumbles.

“Aw, man,” Kirishima says, less mildly this time as he eyes the boy’s tiny, purple head.

“We should kill him now and then pretend it was the villains who kidnapped us,” Ashido suggests.

Bakugou jolts at the suggestion, looking inordinately horrified.

“Do not fucking kill that shitstain,” he squawks, chains rattling. “Just tie him to a tree in the middle of nowhere or something!”

Ashido hums.

“Enough,” says the man in the black tengu mask.

“Precisely,” Iida says, before whipping his head around. “How long have you been standing there?!”

“He’s been there the whole fucking time,” Bakugou drawls, finally calming down now that the threat of Mineta’s imminent demise has been eliminated. He’s eyeing the stranger with a sharp, calculating look.

“I have,” the masked man confirms helpfully, stepping out of the shadowy corner of the room. In his hand, he twirls a syringe filled with an ominously shimmering brown substance. “For top students of Japan’s finest heroics institution, your observation skills leave much to be desired. Of course, that is the reason I’ve brought you here today… to make a statement to the public. Our taxpayer money—”

“So this is the monologue part,” Sero mutters, tugging his wrists apart until the chains binding them pull taut. He turns to Bakugou. “Was the League this bad?”

“Worse,” the blond mutters, still eyeing the monologuing villain, whose syringe glints in the dim light of the room. 

“I’ll cut to the chase,” the man says, sensing that he’s losing his audience. “I am Anzen, and in this syringe, I hold a slow-acting neurotoxin. I’m about to inject it into the lucky student of my choice, and that student will have three hours before the neurotoxin destroys so much of their nervous system that it will permanently impair their brain function, and another hour before they die. I have sent my ransom notice to UA. If they meet my requirements within this time, I’ll administer the antidote. If not…” he trails off, tapping a finger against the body of the syringe demonstratively.

There’s silence. 

Anzen wilts a little when his hostages look largely unphased by this development.

“So basically you’re saying we’ve got three hours before anything actually happens,” Kaminari says boredly, clinking his chains against the floor with a dull rhythmic clang.

“So much for karaoke,” Ojiro adds morosely.

“I must object to this detention!” Iida cries, attempting to raise his hand in the air only for the chains to pull tight and stop him mid-way. Even he seems relatively unconcerned by the situation, if not somewhat indignant at the impropriety. “I am sure that there are more diplomatic means to resolve this issue!” 

“Resolve?” Anzen echoes bitterly. “My hard-earned taxpayer money goes to your fancy hero school, only for you to graduate and destroy more property, which will inevitably require repairs which are funded by even more taxp—”

“If you require assistance in lodging a tax return or claiming insurance costs on damage to your personal property, I am happy to aid you,” Iida says, looking vaguely judgmental. 

Anzen splutters. “I don’t need a kid to help me lodge taxes!” he insists.

“But you require us to die to… prove a point to the government?” Yaoyorozu interjects, looking just as disapproving as her classmate.

The man’s neck is rapidly turning an interesting shade of crimson under the mask. “Forget it,” he snaps, pacing backward. “Forget it. Fucking brats. I’ll just inject you and be done with it. From there, the ball is in UA’s court.”

He spins back on his heel, appraising them with dark eyes. “I don’t even know which of you to pick when you’re all so insufferable. Hell, I wish I’d brought more syringes…”

Somehow, the only student who seems phased by the threat is Bakugou. In fact, in contrast to Anzen, he’s been steadily paling over the span of several minutes.

“Wait,” he says when Anzen nears the group. “You can’t seriously be planning to stick one of us with that.”

Anzen huffs lowly. “Finally,” he rasps. “Someone who’s taking this seriously.”

“Dude, chill,” Kaminari says, nudging the other blond with his foot. “Three hours. Aizawa-sensei will find us by then, no sweat.”

“Shut up,” Bakugou snaps, not taking his eyes from the syringe. For a brief moment, his gaze flickers away to a spot behind Anzen, before returning back to the brown liquid. “Keep that shit away from us, dickhead.”

“No,” Anzen says gleefully. “In fact, I think you’re my lucky student for the night!”

Bakugou, impossibly, pales further. 

“Besides,” the man sings as he crouches down by the blond’s side. “It’s like your little pest of a friend said: you have three hours. If your school is as good as you say, then no harm will come upon you.”

He flicks the syringe once with his index finger, holding it upright.

“Yeah, if the fucking antidote works,” Bakugou snaps, leaning away.

Anzen freezes. 

“What?”

“I said I don’t trust you and your second-rate Bachelor’s in Biomedical Science. Keep that shit away from my fucking body.”

“It’s a Masters degree,” the man says indignantly, before jolting. “How the fuck—”

“It would be a Masters if you’d graduated,” Bakugou glares. “You dropped out when your supervisor wouldn’t clear your thesis.”

The syringe slips out of Anzen’s hand, clattering in the newly-established silence of the room.

“You,” he breathes. “Who the hell…”

Bakugou eyes the fallen syringe, relaxing imperceptibly. The apprehension in his expression is replaced with his usual smug irritation.

“Must be humiliating,” he hums. “Seven months on a formula, just for the antidote to fail.”

Anzen flinches.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snaps. 

“You thought you had it the second time,” the blond powers on, looking vaguely amused now. “Miwa got better at first, and you thought you’d done it. But she was dead by morning.”

The room falls silent, Anzen’s laboured panting filling the empty space.

“No,” he says tremulously.

“Yes,” Bakugou says ruthlessly. “She trusted you. And you still haven’t got it, have you? The third trial turned out even worse, because you fucked up the neurotoxin so bad that Yoko was dead by the first hour, before you even got to give her the antidote. You still have no idea what the fuck you’re doing.”

He leans forward until his chains rattle, crimson eyes glowing almost amber in the yellowing light. 

“Does it keep you up at night?” he asks, voice hushed. “What you’ve done, I mean.”

“No,” Anzen says again, voice cracking.

“It doesn’t?” 

“Don’t.”

“It should,” the boy continues, lips curling at the seams to bare glinting teeth. “They haven’t forgiven you. And you haven’t forgiven yourself, have you? That’s why you keep it.”

“I don’t,” Anzen insists childishly, voice sounding wet.

“You do,” Bakugou says gently, a predatory gleam to his eyes. “See?”

And then, precariously, the seams of Anzen’s shirt collars part, and a rusted golden chain lifts from around his neck. The man’s head tilts downward, watching as an empty glass test tube, hanging from the chain by a jump ring through its stopper, raises ominously in the air without any support.

Anzen makes a small, pathetic noise in the back of his throat.

“They haven’t forgiven you, Takeo,” Bakugou whispers softly.

Like the words are a physical blow, Anzen veers backward blindly, before toppling over thin air and sprawling onto the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes. “I’m sorry, I’m s—sorry. I thought I had it, I swear, I didn’t mean—”

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” Bakugou says conversationally, smiling kindly at the blubbering man. “You’re going to let us go. Aren’t you?”

“Y—yes.”

“And then you’re going to turn yourself in.”

Anzen sniffles, voice cracking around a wet, gasping inhale.

“You’re going to turn yourself in, Takeo,” Bakugou repeats patiently.

“I’m g—going to. To turn mys—self in,” the man echoes.

The blond nods serenely. “Any day now, buddy.”

Anzen jerks, stumbling to his feet and turning to fumble with a set of keys at his hip.

The room lapses back into silence, punctuated only by Anzen’s pathetic sniffling and the clink of the keys.

“Um,” Kirishima says weakly from behind Bakugou. “So, like.”

“I knew it,” Todoroki whispers. “You really can see them, then.”

Bakugou exhales slowly, before turning to blink at the boy guilelessly. “See what?”

“Dead people!”

Bakugou stares at him for a long moment, before turning his gaze to the rest of his classmates, who are watching him with wide, awed eyes.

Behind him, the air flickers with a shimmering, grey form.

“Stop it, Tsubasa,” the blond snaps without turning back to face the sight. The space flickers once more, before the disturbance settles.

“Tsu—whu? Tsubasa like the kid who died in the fourth grade?! Kacchan—!”

“Don’t be stupid,” Bakugou interrupts Midoriya lightly, returning his attention to Todoroki. “My quirk is explosions. See?”

As if to punctuate his point, he raises the hand that Anzen has just freed, sparking off a small detonation in his palm.

“But—” Todoroki says plaintively.

“Dead people,” Bakugou echoes, snickering to himself. “You really are weird, Todoroki.”

He rises to his feet, brushing off his pants, and ambles out of the room.

[photmath]

Comme Les Fleurs - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Love Lies

Summary: Left with no other options, Kylian must rehab his newly injured leg at a stranger’s home for the next month and she isn’t at all what he expects. Meanwhile, Aurèle has to deal with easily-irritated and sullen Kylian as she opens her home to him.

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: angst, fluff, kissing, cursing, brief lying

Note: Sorry for the month long wait! There will most definitely be some errors and/or redundancy, I did not get to edit as efficiently.

Kylian didn’t want to leave. It was his first time waking up with Aurie snuggled up on his side and his face immediately fell at the sight of her so relaxed next to him. The sun was barely peeking through her windows as its rays bounced off her cheeks. He brushed her cheeks with his thumb before sliding his legs in between hers, wanting to feel every part of her body against his. She hissed and for a moment it startled him, thinking he had accidentally woken her up. He wanted more time to hold her without thinking about how for the most part of today, they were going to be separated. 

Aurie stirred, her eyes fluttering open that Kylian could only give her a goofy smile in return. Her arms were already dangling around his torso so she squeezed him tighter, “Good morning.”

“Morning, chérie. I woke you, hmm?”

She nods her head, “Mm-hmm.” She closes her eyes as she uses his chest to block out the sun. He chuckles, kissing her temple while sighing. 

“Are you going to go back to sleep?”

She peeks up at him, “Why wouldn’t I?” Her lip curls up with mischief and he grins. His hands sneak down to her waist and he pushes her so that her back lies against the sheets. She snickers, arms wrapped around his neck as he settled beside her. He kisses her forearms, Aurie giving him a small smile that makes him swoon.

Aurie pulls him down to her lips, groaning at the feel of them. Her nails were already digging into his bare shoulders, him deciding to sleep shirtless and she was enjoying every moment leading up to that decision. He chuckles once he feels her other wandering hand near his shorts waistband.

“Aurèle,” he scolds. 

“What?” she bites down onto his lip that he suddenly elicits a scowl. He lets her have her way, knowing that her hand will stray near his waistline and never dip inside until he takes more of an initiative. 

She reels back, playing with the strings while looking up at him, “I’m going to miss you today.”

“You still have me for a couple of hours,” he simpers. His fingers draw mindless circles on her thighs. “I’m going to miss you too.”

“You know what Martin asked of me the other day?” she asked. He shakes his head. “He asked if I’d be willing to be at PSG Campus in the event that you still aren’t healed by preseason training.” 

Kylian frowns, he knew she wasn’t anticipating a move back into rehabbing footballers. Even if she would be there for possibly a month, she didn't want to be in that kind of setting anymore. He purses his lips, “Do you think you’ll still need to help me by then?”

She shakes her head, “No. I think if you’re training with Martin exclusively for that first week back, you’ll be fine. Of course I will have to run some final tests on you in two weeks, but I trust Martin more than anyone else on that staff.”

He nods, his eyebrows furrowing, “Do you…even want to go back to football?”

Aurie looks away from him. “I don’t know. Martin just seems a bit—rattled.”

“Rattled?”

“He’s always complained about the rehab group, always had his doubts with them. Said that even though he gives them specific instructions, it isn’t enough. He’s getting a bit frustrated I guess,” she explains. “And with the new coach coming in, he suspects Luis will bring in his own staff. Martin’s job is safe, but he doesn’t know the staff and it’ll be a challenge trying to figure out how they operate.”

“When did you speak to him?”

“Yesterday. I had to give him a final debrief before your meeting with him today. Oh, and of course Dr. Minic as well.”

“Minic?” Kylian furrows his eyebrows at the mention of the psychologist. He sits up. 

“Yeah,” Aurie said. She sits up next to him and folds her legs, “You do realize I have to document your temperament and progress each day after therapy right?”

He rolls his eyes, “I know.”

“So why are you surprised about Dr. Minic?”

He shrugs, “I have a meeting with him today, too. Suddenly planned.”

“Ah,” she clicks. “He does enjoy his random meetings.”

He groans, remembering the random check ups midseason last year. The visits became more frequent during their losing stretches, since February. Kylian grew tired of hearing Dr. Minic call for him after practice. He was certainly the last person he wanted to see today.

Aurie squeezes his shoulder and then kisses the skin, “You’ll be okay.” She hops out of the bed while Kylian watches her.

“I don’t even know what to talk to him about.”

“It’s a good thing he asks the questions,” she turns towards him and gives him a smirk. His downcast in mood immediately dissipates, shuffling off the bed to wrap his arms around her again. She lets out an innocent laugh, and Kylian can only bear to stuff his head into her neck, kissing her skin as he chuckles. 

“Your beard tickles!” she pushes him away despite him holding her from behind. Aurie squeals as he continues to brush his chin against her neck, stopping once her back hits her dresser. He laughs, resting his forehead on top of hers. 

Things with Aurie were so simple. So simple to be himself without feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Even when he was at the Roland Garros and his image was being analyzed, he didn’t feel any of the weight. It would be his first time back at the PSG Campus, and while it wasn’t unusual, reporters and journalists seeing him there during his time “off” would certainly spark up rumors. 

He could only imagine. 

But for now, he could only focus on Aurie. His Aurie. 

She smiles, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He pecks her lips and then her cheek before pulling away and running off, letting out a loud cheeky laugh as he exits her bedroom. She shakes her head, holding off a laugh. 

-

Aurie had set him up on the treadmill and despite her watching him like a hawk, he felt as if he were alone. The window in front of him was all he focused on, he couldn’t even feel Aurie’s guiding hand on his pelvis.

They were going to take workouts outside today, picking up the intensity after the last low-intensity sessions. He was progressing onto harder challenges and Aurie didn’t hesitate to start him into a faster jog, but she wanted to see him jogging on grass first before they tried upping the pace. The inflammation of his calf was very minimal and he hadn’t complained of pain since his last flare up.

However, because of the night session being canceled so that Kylian’s leg had adequate amount of time to rest after increasing the intensity, it meant he had many different appointments today. Martin would be examining his leg today at the PSG Campus and that meant cameras and questions. Then, he would meet with his parents and his lawyer, a decision looming in the distance that was only a matter of weeks away to be announced. A part of himself had already made up his mind for the upcoming season. He had known since last year when he signed the new contract, his stomach churning at that thought now.

Aurie, being as perceptive as she was, raised her eyebrows at his sudden silence, “Did that hurt?”

“No.”

It was a small stutter in his cadence and she noticed it. He sunk his teeth onto his bottom lip, lowering his gaze to the numbers of the machine. He only had a couple of more minutes, but he wished he could go longer. A run always cleared his mind and the few minutes he had wasn’t enough. 

Aurie slowed down his speed, instructing him to walk and then debriefed him about the running exercises outside. Like Kylian, she also had to do a couple of things around the house and nursing home, especially start setting up the Summer Gala decorations. 

As she stretched his hamstring while on a step stool, she focused on him, “Are you okay, Ky?”

He turned towards her, giving her a small smile, “Yeah. Just a lot on my mind.”

She set his leg over her shoulder again, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He blew out a raspberry, “I have a lot of things to do today…” Not a lot of time to think.

“That’s what’s bothering you?” She gave him an understanding smile that he can’t help but to smile back. His fingertips traced her knuckles as he stared at her necklace. It always caught the sun somehow. It glimmered but it wasn’t blinding. 

He pondered about how perfect of a gift it was for her; no matter where she was, she glowed. Her presence radiated attention that it was impossible to ignore her. How could he ever overlook the effect she had on him in such little time? Whether it was from her having to be attached to his hip or the way she carried on as if he wasn’t there, he loved it. She stopped for no one. Not even him. And that’s what he appreciated more. He wasn’t a star in her eyes. He was just Kylian.

“Kylian,” she spoke.

“Hmm?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Her eyebrows were knitted and Kylian instinctively  ached to reach across to touch her face. His fingers could only do so much to her working hands. Once she set his leg down, he sat up, already knowing she was going to massage his quad.

“I’m okay,” he muttered. His eyes glanced down to her lips, “Kiss?”

“No, I’m working.” 

“One kiss,” he pouted. Aurie flicked him on his nose and he squirmed while chuckling. “Fine then, nevermind.”

“You know the rule,” she huffed. She was still a bit apprehensive of him. He was more quiet than usual but the two of them did have busy hours ahead of them, so she wasn’t going to ask for more. She taps his thigh, “Alright, let's go outside. Remember what I said, slow and easy.”

He was eager to step back on the grass and run, even with the weight of the day. Her lawn wasn’t a football pitch, but it was definitely flat. She had already walked the length of it and made sure there weren’t any hidden holes or rough patches. The grass was trimmed short and had been maintained well.

“I’m going to run with you, we’ll go about half way and then walk it to the end,” she informed. “You keep my pace.” 

Kylian nods, stretching his legs some more while Aurie sets up her timer. She gives him a nod and for the first time in months he’s back running—jogging—on grass. It was a major win in his eyes. One of the first milestones to being integrated back into training. He still had a lot to do, but for right now, he would soak up this victory.

Aurie smirked to herself when she noticed Kylian smiling as he looked around her lawn. She had been motioning him to be a step in front of her so she could pay attention to his mechanics. He wasn’t compensating for any pain or stiffness and that generally meant good news. Bleu’s collar began to jingle from behind them, and seconds later, he quickly sprinted past the both of them.. Kylian chuckled, turning towards Aurie and sending her a wink. He was so proud, his eyes nearly closed because of his overjoyed grin. 

He truly was at ease.

As the two of them reach the midway point, Aurie brushes her hand against his forearm, “Let’s go ahead and slow down.”

He nods, slowing down into a walk and he can’t help himself. He throws his arms around Aurie’s shoulders from behind and kisses her cheek repeatedly, “Thank you, Aurèle. Thank you, thank you.” His lips continue to shower her cheek and jaw until he circles in front of her to cradle her head, hands perfectly slotted underneath her jaw. Her infectious giggle fills their silence, Kylian simpering in front of her. His knees, already on the verge of giving out as Aurie places her hands against his firm waist. 

“Gah!” he groans. “I want to kiss you!” He proclaims the statement loudly, it now physically starting to hurt him to not kiss her lips. 

Aurie chuckles, beckoning her chin upward for him. “Go ahead and kiss me, princess.”

Kylian grins, connecting her lips with hers immediately. Aurie’s on her tiptoes, pressing her waist against his hips. Hands are sliding down the back of her neck as he pulls away and draws her into a hug. Her forehead hits the edge of his shoulder brimmed with sweat but she doesn’t mind it at all, only drawing him closer. 

“You’re welcome, but we still have some ways to go, you,” she says. 

“I want you to meet my family,” he blurts out. Aurie’s eyes go wide at his sudden outburst. Her eyes are quick to stray from hers, clearly she hadn’t had a good track record with families. A father who only spoke to her a couple of times a year, no bad blood between them except a giant wedge of life and distance that separated them. And then her mother. 

Kylian recovers, “Not today. Just some day. I think you’d really get along with my brother, as well as my sister-in-law. My niece and nephew, they’re around Simi’s age. They’d adore you.”

Aurie narrows her eyes from the sun, “And your parents?”

Kylian’s shoulders deflate, a breathless smile fanning his face, “They’d love you. I can already see my mom inviting you to my games and forcing you to sit next to her. She’d probably invite you to dinner more than she’d invite me!”

Aurie laughs, her nerves dissipating as she watches Kylian gush about his parents. He’s animated, pointing out different ways that she would be integrated into the family without causing disruption. It was almost too good to be true. She could only remember glimpses of something like that from her childhood, before her mother’s injury. Before everything changed. To know that Kylian still had a family that remained cordial and close-knit with each other, it amazed her.

He pecks her forehead, “Whenever you’re comfortable, my mom already tells me she wants to hear this ‘wonder woman’ I brag about.”

She laughed, “Oh god, I have a name to live up to. 

He shakes his head, “You have nothing to worry about. They love you already.” He draws one sweaty arm over her, “I think I’ve been infected by your happiness.”

“Come a long way from the first night, hmm?” she smirks. 

He chuckles, “I had no idea what I was getting myself into.” He takes her hands in hers as they walk the rest of the length. Kylian stares down at the white fence that awaits them, Bleu wagging his tail as he sniffs the perimeter, having picked up a scent. Kylian gives Aurie’s hand a brief squeeze, “Why have you never taken me out all the way over here?”

Aurie raises her eyebrows, “You say that as if you were grounded from the outdoors. My land is your land for the moment, except if you kill my plants. Don’t think I forgot what Sergio told me.”

He throws his head back in a laugh, “I haven’t touched your plants, I promise. I’ve barely touched the one in my room!”

Aurie rolls her eyes, “Right, or so I think so far.” Kylian gives her a knowing look. “Once we reach the fence, we’ll run the length back.”

He nods. The two of them switch between running and walking the length of the backyard. Kylian’s movements are flawless, and Aurie is feeling good about herself, not only because of his progress, but because Martin would be able to see just how far he has gotten. Determining his status for the preseason was still up to debate, but perhaps he could play for a few minutes. It all depended on the next few weeks. 

Once they finished the last run, Kylian went to shower while Aurie decided to cook them lunch. He was scheduled to leave before she was planning on leaving so it wasn’t much of a problem for her to delay her shower. 

-

After lunch, Aurie met Kylian in his bedroom, knocking against the already propped door softly. She could see him swing his head towards the door, giving her a tensed, thin-lined smile. 

“You okay?”

His lips press firmer, “I’m nervous.” He kept soothing his white shirt, trying to get rid of the imaginary wrinkles. She leaned her weight against her dresser, eyeing him. His cheeks rose in heat because she would pry the answers without having to ask. He clears his throat with a cough, “I should get going. Mac and Paul are here.”

“Give me your phone number,” she said. “In case I’m asleep by the time you get home. I mean you have a key anyway, so it’s okay if you don’t text.”

“I’ll text you, love, don’t worry,” he chuckles at her ramble. He hands over his phone, “Isn’t it odd that we don’t have each other’s numbers?”

“Well we’ve been like conjoined twins for a great deal of the time,” she jokes. “Plus, my little black beepers won’t reach the city.”

“Now you send me those photos we took when I chopped up wood.”

“Oh I can!” She brightens, as if the idea just occurred to her now like he wasn’t longing for those photos. He had always forgotten to ask, only remembering right before he was about to sleep. 

He chuckles, stepping forward to kiss her cheek, “Thank you for lunch, chérie. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Let me know how your meeting with Martin goes.”

“I will, every detail,” he pecks her lips one more time and then turns towards the door while grabbing a sweater. Aurie follows him down the stairs and locks the door behind him. 

---

There’s a gnawing feeling in Aurie’s chest as she checks her phone. After having spent hours moving around the furniture of the ballroom to make room for the Summer Gala’s decorations and tables, she finally had the time to sit in her car to eat a quick snack. She just now decided to stop working on the room because of her grumbling stomach, having gotten so immersed with the designs Angie’s assistant had thought of.

Now, checking her phone, there’s a message from Camille. Her and Camille were in the ballroom together decorating but Camille had to leave to pick up Simone from daycare. 

She opens the message that sends her to a tweet, the tweet reading in all caps: 

BOMBAZO: KYLIAN MBAPPÉ RUMORED TO LEAVE PARIS SAINT-GERMAIN. THE FRENCHMAN COULD FINALLY BE ON HIS WAY TO REAL MADRID. VERY IMPORTANT NEXT WEEKS.

Her eyebrows furrow at the tweet and Camille’s five question marks. Her and Kylian hadn’t talked about his football plans so she had no idea whether it was true. She scrolled mindlessly through a Twitter thread that had been linking him to certain teams since the beginning of June. She had remained clueless to all of the transfer news surrounding him, and she wondered if Kylian had done so too. 

Although she doubted it; all the missed phone calls, the missed texts from his parents that he tried to hide, they had always been there. He was clearly ignoring them for a reason, and for a halting minute, her throat goes dry thinking about how much she brushed off his tensed mood when those phone calls would occur. She noticed them but did nothing, Kylian assuring her that it wasn’t anything serious.

Aurie had never been great at the “talking” part of therapy, and she knew it was one of her greatest weaknesses. She often found it difficult trying to give her patient advice when they were going through a challenging time—and it was ironic because it was part of her job. She wasn’t a therapist, but empathy and understanding were required. She needed to know how a patient was doing mentally in order to know how they would perform their rehab exercises when she wasn’t with them, and Kylian possibly dealing with the constant back and forth of something this grand the entire time, well she was going to need Dr. Minic’s phone number on speed dial. 

Pulling out of the parking lot and heading home, Aurie suppresses whatever rumors were floating the Internet. She wasn’t entirely surprised by the news, having been prepared for the possibility of the media’s involvement with Kylian before he came. It was why he was at her house instead of Paris.

“What the fuck,” she mutters as she enters her driveway. Bleu is at the front of the gravel driveway, sniffing where the grass meets the gravel. It was unusual to see him this upfront of the house, Aurie had taught him to not stray this far ahead. He knew to stay either in the house or in the backyard when she was gone, and he learned very early on to follow those rules.

She lowers her window, “Bleu!”

He doesn’t perk his head up at her, nor did he when she first entered the driveway. He was eliciting a high-pitched whine as if he was in pain, his movements were skittish. Aurie’s worry grows, she whistles at him and finally his head snaps up at her. His cries grow as he suddenly spins in circles and barks. Aurie puts the car in park and immediately gets out, rushing to his side. 

There’s a red, bloody gash on his snout she spots while dropping to her knees. She doesn’t even feel the searing pain that shoots to her knees as the gravel scrapes them, “Oh my god.” Bleu shakes his head while Aurie stills him, examining his cut. It was too deep to have been an accident, unless a tree had fallen right on top of him.

Bleu lets out another shriek as she examines the rest of his head. His teeth show hints of red in them, and immediately Aurie’s worry turns to panic and anger. The black fur of one of his legs glistens from the blood trailing down it. 

“Merde, merde, merde,” she spat.

Aurie looks around, searching for any signs of what happened. Bleu could have surely gotten in a fight with an animal or an unleashed dog. He was territorial and could sniff any ill-intent from someone or something. But was she sure? Not at all.

She hops back in the car with Bleu and drives forward to the entrance of her house. The gnawing feeling in her throat has yet to go away and Bleu continues to whine. She unlocks her door without trouble, despite Bleu’s insistent cries. 

“What is it?” she whispers. Bleu dashes up the stairs, Aurie following him closely. There she suddenly notices the glass on the stairs, shrapnels littering the corridor, dramatically spilling into the entrance of Kylian's bedroom. Bleu lays down in the corner as she notices the rock right next to him. She wanted to scream. Bleu was walking and laying underneath glass that had most likely penetrated his paws by now. But there was also a giant, gaping hole in her window. 

She wasn’t sure what to deal with first. 

Heart pounding, fingers shaking as she dials Camille’s number, she holds in a muffled sob that escapes her mouth once Camille answers. 

“Hello?”

Aurie isn’t sure how she does it, but Camille and Raphael are immediately at her house within a couple of seconds. Simone is alongside the two of them, clinging onto her mother in Raphael’s truck as he goes and searches the house for any intruders. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway since Bleu and Aurie stayed glued in those same positions upstairs in the corridor staring at each other in shock. She ordered Bleu to stay down to prevent him from further injury, but she was paralyzed with shock to make a move. Bleu barked dreadfully as he heard Raphael’s truck pull in, but his tail immediately wagged once he saw him rush up the stairs. 

Raphael was the one to pull Aurie out of her trance, his hands carefully wrapping around both of her shoulders to stand in front of her, “Hey, come on. It’s safe, alright?” She could only recognize him by his brown curls, his face blurred from her tears. Aurie’s ragged breathing suddenly turned into deep labored breaths, Raphael’s hands grew tighter the second, “I’m right here, it’s okay. Aurie. Breathe with me, alright?” 

Raphael snapped his fingers in front of her as her eyes scattered across the room. He guided her breaths, instructing her when to inhale and exhale. Finally, as Aurie came out of her frightened state, she collapsed into Raphael’s arms and sobbed. 

It took her about five minutes of Raphael holding her and reassuring her that the house was safe to release him. 

“What happened?” she murmurs. 

“I think someone came to the house and threw the rock. Judging by Bleu’s gash, maybe they hit him with a stick? I think he might have bit them, so I'll file a report with the police. It shouldn’t take long until someone turns up to the hospital with a dog bite. I found a shirt outside, it was just outside where the window is. There was a sizable bite mark,” Raphael explained.

Aurie digests his words, figuring out how she could stomach the idea of someone hurting Bleu, “Did the rock have a message on it?”

He purses his lips, “It did.”

“What did it say?” Raphael swallows, Aurie watches his Adam’s apple bop as he looks away from her. She wipes her tears, “Spit it out, Rafa.”

“It said, ‘Traître.’”

Aurie wishes that would have sent her to another comatose state but it doesn’t. Instead, it stabs directly into her heart. Not only had Kylian’s news began mass hysteria on Twitter, but they had also found out where she lived. Her safe place, her home. How could someone have possibly found out. 

“The police are on the way,” Raphael spoke. “But we should get Bleu cleaned up before anything else.”

She didn’t have time to ponder because he was right. There was a very terrified Simone downstairs and Bleu needed assistance. 

“Okay,” she exhales. “Can you pick up Bleu and bring him to the downstairs restroom? I’ll go get the girls, and then you can deal with the police when they come.”

Raphael nods and Aurie turns on her heels to head back downstairs. Glass crunches beneath her shoes with each step. She musters up the fear on her face before she goes outside. Camille has Simone on her lap as she motions them to come out.

“Are you okay?”

“Tatie Aurie!”

Simone’s tear-stained cheeks override Camille’s question, “Hi, bébé, don’t cry, I’m okay.” The blotches of red on her yellow shirt and knees say otherwise. Simone reaches for her aunt and Aurie frowns when she has to deny her, “I’m a little dirty right now, Simi, I can’t hug you. But I promise when I get cleaned up I will, okay?”

Simone nods, “Are you okay?”

“Yes I am,” she beams. Camille locks the truck and holds Simone tight in her arms. Aurie explains to the both of them that there are shards of glass scattered in her house. Some pieces had made it down the stairs so Simone wasn’t to be touching the ground at all. 

“Bleu got attacked by another dog, Simi,” Aurie lies, Camille’s eyes flickering towards her. “So we have to give him a bath because he’s bleeding a little bit, and he got scared so he accidentally stepped on the glass.”

“But Bleu knows how to fight.”

Aurie would have laughed if she had the energy, instead she nods, “He sure does…I think he was outnumbered this time. I heard the other dogs had to go to the hospital.” 

She forces a smile out to Simone and she snickers, “Poor doggies, hopefully they’re okay too.”

“They’ll be okay,” Aurie promises. “We have to bathe him, alright?” Simone nods, her tiny, giddy smile returning to her face. 

Raphael had already placed Bleu on the floor of Kylian’s shower. Camille had put Simone on the sink, setting up an episode of Paw Patrol, so that she didn’t pay attention to the blood flushing down the shower drain. 

After Aurie meticulously picked out the glass out of Bleu’s paws, she bathed him and wrapped his paws with gauze, and put on his little booties that he would usually wear during gritty hiking trails. Raphael and Camille cleaned up the downstairs first after the police came in and took pictures. Aurie was able to give them a statement in the middle of cleaning Bleu, but Raphael seemed to know more. He was a private investigator after all, the clues screamed at him like an unsolved puzzle.

The police left shortly after Aurie’s statement, letting the three of them and Simone clean up the rest. Aurie hadn’t even thought about where she’d be sleeping at for the night, and for fucks sake, her cat! 

“Shit,” she mutters, running up the stairs, passing a crouched down Raphael on the stairs. She swings Kylian’s door and goes to his closet, Maple always hid there for comfort. And sure enough, there’s a wide-eyed gray ball of fur meowing at her.

“Maple,” she sighs. She scratches her head while Maple purrs loudly at the contact but stays put. Aurie didn’t want to disturb her and knew that it was better for her to be away from the chaos anyway. She leaves her, shutting Kylian’s bedroom door and going back to cleaning.

-

Meanwhile, Kylian’s car is halting before entering the driveway as three police cars file out. His hands won’t stop trembling as he rereads Camille’s text that he needed to get to Aurie’s house as soon as possible. Watching the police cars go past his window makes him feel sick, practically begging Mac to go around them. 

“C’est quoi ce bordel,” he curses. As soon as the van stops, he jumps out. Mac and Paul call out for him but to no avail, following him. Raphael opens the door before Kylian can do so. He steps out and raises his hand, “Wait.”

“Is she okay?” Kylian exclaims, his voice is so hoarse that he doesn’t even recognize it. “What happened?” 

Kylian’s heart clenches as Raphael stays quiet. He looks behind Kylian before nodding, “She’s okay—”

“Let me in,” Kylian steps towards the door but Raphael stops him. His hand wraps around Kylian’s wrist and Kylian gapes. Paul and Mac step forward and Raphael immediately drops his wrist. 

Raphael glances down at him, “Someone threw a rock at the upstairs window. Aurie is okay, she wasn’t here when it happened. Bleu got injured but he’s okay.”

Kylian can’t believe it, his body going slack at the idea of someone coming here and attacking Aurie’s home. His fist instinctively tightens as he nods, “Let me go in there.”

“You have to be calm. My daughter is here and is already scared, she doesn’t know the exact truth,” Raphael warns.

“I’m calm,” Kylian repeats but Raphael doesn’t bulge. He can make out the blatant fear and worry in Kylian’s eyes. It was justified, but the girls had just finally begun to calm down and there was no way he was going to let Kylian ruin it. 

Kylian tries again to open the door but Raphael stops him. “Kylian—”

“Move, Raphael,” Kylian grows impatient. “What the fuck is your problem?” 

“You need to calm down.”

“I am.”

“No you aren’t,” Raphael retorts. 

“Va te faire foutre!” Kylian spits while Raphael remains unfazed. He rolls his eyes at Kylian’s harsh expression.

“I’ve already told you, if you and your guys step into this house uneasy, you will scare them and that’s the last thing either of them need. I’ve already checked out the house, the police just left, everyone is okay.”

Kylian chews on the inside of the lips. That meant Aurie came home hours ago, hours passed without a notification from her that something happened. He was having dinner with his parents, knee bouncing as he waited for a response from her about meeting his family. It now makes sense why she didn’t answer, and Camille’s timing was almost perfect whenever she sent the text because they were already on their way back to Aurie’s. Granted, it was still a thirty minute tormented car ride without hearing from anyone.

“When did this happen?”

Raphael checks his watch, “Almost three hours ago. There was a lot going on, Kylian. I told Camille to let you know.”

“Okay,” Kylian mutters. He was in Paris anyway, there was only so much he could’ve done had he known. 

“Simi thinks Bleu got attacked by another dog,” Raphael winces, “and that he knocked down a vase which made the glass shatter. Just go along with it, alright?”

Kylian nods, giving Mac and Paul a look to back down. Raphael stares at the two men before turning towards Kylian. He opens the door and lets Kylian in. Kylian’s eyes dart around the house in search of Aurie but she’s nowhere to be found. It’s as if the entire room is silent although it isn’t. Simone is bouncing at his feet and Camille is staring at him from the living room with a concerned facial expression. Raphael has to squeeze his shoulder to knock him out of his fear. 

“Simi,” he breathes. 

“Keelan!” she smiles. “Bleu got in a fight.”

His breaths are ragged as he gives her a shaky nod, “Your dad told me.”

Usually he was good at putting up a facade. It came with his job, but he couldn’t bear to do it to Simone, especially when he didn’t know where Aurie was. For all he knew, she was injured somewhere. 

Simone folds her hand in front of her stomach, “You look like you’re going to throw up, Keelan.”

Raphael intervenes and hoists his daughter up, “How about we give Kylian a second to settle in?”

Simone frowns, “And then he can play with me?”

Raphael waits for Kylian to respond but he doesn’t, Raphael nods, “Sure.”

Kylian stared at the two of them blankly. Not only had he put Aurie at risk, but he also put a four year-old in danger. With that knowledge, he wanted to hurl. To wake up from whatever nightmare he was experiencing, that it had all been a dream. 

Camille comes to him, “She’s upstairs.”

Kylian nods, it’s barely there but he goes upstairs anyway. The bottom window is covered in a blue, thick tarp. He grits his teeth at the sight. It was next to his bedroom door, but on the other side of it was a window that directly fed into Aurie’s bedroom. The restroom door is wide open, Aurie’s shadow moving in the light that cascaded out. 

His breath trembles at the sight of her; her leg up on the sink while she puts a large bandage on red-marked knee. She turns towards him and lets out a chortle, “This is a sight, hmm?”

Kylian goes crashing into her, his weight catches her off-balance but he holds her tightly before she can fall. He inhales her soapy scent like it’s a lifeline, tears brimming in his eyes as he tucks his head into her neck. 

“You’re okay,” he mumbles. He reels back and scans her face, his hand is cradling her jaw as he searches every part of her skin that he can see. He presses his lips together, “Why didn’t you call me?”

Aurie finds her balance, adjusting her shirt that had ridden up when Kylian hugged her. “I’m sorry, you were in Paris. You were having a busy day. I didn't want to interrupt it.”

“Interrupt?” Kylian questions. “Aurie this wouldn’t have been an interruption.”

Her eyes flicker away, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes her head, “Don’t be. I’m sorry about this. I’m sorry this happened to you and your family. How is Bleu?”

“He’s okay. He’s in my bedroom resting.”

Kylian pinches the nasal bridge of his nose, “You should’ve called me.”

Aurie can’t help but to feel defensive for a second. What was he supposed to do with that phone call? He was an hour away, there was no way he would possibly be able to help her at that moment. She swallows her thoughts. It was nearly ten at night, and her body was already coursing with emotions.

“How are you?” Kylian asks, resting the weight of his body against the sink. 

“Still a little shaken up, but I’m calming down.” She stares back at him and Kylian’s eyes convey more words than he can possibly say. She was already on edge, and seeing Kylian on the verge of bursting, she wasn’t sure how much she could take the growing moments of silence. There were hints of something other than fear. She glances back up at him, “What is it, Kylian?”

He chews his bottom lip, as if debating to ask the question. “Was this…my fault?”

Aurie’s sincere eyes almost break him. They soften upon his fearful gaze, as if his entire life depended on her answer. She could feel it through the half of foot space between him, his guilt seeping out of him. Aurie blinks away her tears rapidly, shaking her head, “No, Kylian, this wasn’t your fault.”

“It was—”

“No it wasn’t,” she quiets. 

“Aurie—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she says curtly. “This wasn’t your fault, alright? It was a random attack. Raphael is already getting information from the police, he’ll tell us everything.”

“How do you know he won’t lie?” he whispers. It almost halts her own lie to Kylian, but she looks past him. Somehow she was always calming him down in situations in which she should’ve been the one panicking, but she had already panicked, already had her time to stress out. 

“He’s never been a liar.” 

Kylian’s eyes dance between the two of hers and she holds her breath hoping that he believes her. Raphael wasn’t a liar, never to the ones he loved. He protected them with everything—but, he was great at omitting the truth to strangers. Aurie wasn’t sure if Raphael fully trusted Kylian if she were to think about it, the two of them hadn’t interacted much anyway. 

He gives her a slight nod, pulling her into another hug. Aurie wraps her arms around him, breathing him in for comfort. 

-

The two of them, Bleu and Maple included, slept in the guest bedroom of Raphael and Camille’s home. Although neither of them could sleep. Aurie’s back was pressed up against Kylian’s frontside, the both of them staring ahead into the dark window, not knowing the other was awake. Kylian’s lips were hovering over her shoulder, his arm tucked alongside her front side holding her close. 

But he felt suffocated. He still couldn’t grasp the thought of Aurie lying to him. They were a close-knit family, going to protect each of their own before him. But what was doing them any good stringing Kylian along whenever he was potentially the problem? He debated it back and forth in his head, that Aurie wasn’t lying and it was a random attack, or that she was and somehow trying to protect him. For what? 

Kylian kisses her shoulder before slithering his arm out of her grasp, rolling over and grabbing his phone. He slips out of the bed and out of the bedroom. He picks up his shoes and texts Mac while heading out the front door. Before he can send the text, he jumps at the sight of Raphael’s silhouette sitting on the bench in the front porch. 

“Shh,” Raphael quiets him down. 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Kylian’s heart thumps through his ear drums as he locks his phone, the text never going through. He puts his shoes on and stares back at Raphael confused. Raphael flicks on a lantern, he’s dressed up in black trousers with a navy buttoned polo. 

“Where are you going?” Kylian furrows his brows.

“Where are you going?”

“Cut the shit,” Kylian rolls his eyes. 

Raphael stands up, leaning up against the pillar of his porch to look at Kylian, “I just got back from the police station.”

“You were gone this whole time?”

“Mm-hmm.” Kylian was grossly confused with what was happening. Raphael’s piercing eyes weren’t straying from him at all, the lantern casting a glow underneath his hooded eyes. Kylian looks away as Raphael repeats, “Where are you going?”

Kylian shrugs, “I needed air.”

Raphael nods, “You’re leaving.”

Kylian sighs, his shoulders growing tense, “It seems like you’d want me gone.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t. I think I may have read you wrong.”

“How did you read me then?”

“I thought you would stay when times were hard,” Raphael replies nonchalantly. “Here you are leaving the second you get the chance, so I was wrong. You know she loves you, pathetically so.”

Kylian’s mind stills at his confession. Not only at his harsh, partially true words, but of Aurie possibly loving him. He didn’t feel deserving of it, not after all that she had been doing for him. Sure he had his fair share moments to prove his own love for her, but it didn’t feel enough. He couldn’t even say it when they shared their most intimate moments. Maybe his actions spoke louder, but here he was, debating about leaving her in the dark of the night. 

Actions.

Raphael shakes his head, “I won’t tell her about this, but you should really think before you do next time. It’s not a good look—”

“Aurie isn’t pathetic.”

“No she isn’t,” Raphael stills, “but you are.”

If looks could kill, Raphael would’ve been six feet under, but he isn’t at all intimidated by Kylian’s dark eyes. Kylian tastes copper as he pries his eyes away from Raphael. He couldn’t argue back with him. He knew he was right, the guilt crawling up his spine.

Moments pass while the two of them stand there in silence. Kylian’s mind was still ablaze thinking about Aurie’s home, and Raphael seemed to be the only one who had the answers. 

“Aurie said you weren’t a liar,” Kylian says. “Can you be honest?” Raphael nods, folding his arms. “Did the rock…did it say something? Or a note? Anything?”

Raphael clears his throat, looking behind Kylian and then back at him. Kylian’s heart clenches at his look. It was totally his fault. 

“It did,” he rasps. “It said ‘traitor’ in French, written in red paint.”

Kylian’s throat threatens to close up as he chokes on the night air. Raphael stares at him dumbfoundedly as he turns away to get a hold of his breathing. His worst nightmare was playing out in front of him, even worse that it happened when he was gone. 

“Kylian,” Raphael calls out. “We already arrested who was in charge of it.”

“‘We?’” Kylian wheezes.

“I’m an investigator. Jesus, get a hold of yourself.”

“I put all of you in danger!”

Raphael grabs a hold of Kylian’s forearm, “Aurie wasn’t lying when she said you carry the world on your shoulders. You give yourself too much credit.”

“What?”

“It was some sick guy from her old class with Martin. He was jealous that Aurie, five years younger than him, was ranked higher than him. Way smarter and always Martin’s preferred aide because she was a quick learner and knew her stuff. He saw you and her pictured together at the Roland Garros, got word of your rumors, and went to her house to scare the both of you.”

Kylian couldn’t drop the confused look on his face, he was stunned at the story. It was a compelling revelation, but he still had so many questions, “How did he know where she lived? And—and how do you know there aren’t others? That he wasn’t working with someone else?”

“Do you think I’m bad at my job?”

“Rafa—”

Raphael let go of his forearm now that he seemed to have calmed down, “Aurie hosted a party years ago at her house, a graduation party of sorts. He remembered the address. He didn’t know you were living with her and we didn’t give it away either. It was only him, we pried.”

“Pried?”

“The point is, she’s safe. Bleu did his job, we questioned him at the hospital and trust me, he was more upset about the dog than his charges.”

Kylian’s unsettling heart beat finally seemed to calm down the longer he digested Raphael’s words. He was still shocked, grateful to know it was an isolated attack. A bit annoyed to know Aurie lied to him, but he wasn’t going to hold it past her head. He was just glad that she wasn’t in danger, and that she didn’t have to give up her home. 

“For a moment,” Kylian murmurs, “I thought you despised me.”

Raphael chuckles, “No, I would’ve if you had left. You’re a great guy, Kylian, you wouldn’t have been introduced to my daughter if I despised you.”

Kylian exhales deeply, nodding, “I’m going to tell Aurie that I almost left, so you don’t have to keep it a secret.”

He snorts, “I wasn’t going to. She’s like my little sister, I was going to tell her immediately when she woke up.”

Kylian smiles, his cheeks stiff from having gritted his teeth the past hours. He expected nothing less from Raphael—protective. “Thank you, Rafa. I’m sorry about this.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“How long have you and Camille been together?” 

He shrugs, “For about twenty years—” Kylian furrows his eyebrows while Raphael laughs, “—asked her out when I was eight years-old. We never separated.” He says it as if it’s no big deal, as if he wasn’t happily married to his childhood sweetheart now, with careers they both enjoyed and a daughter.

“And Aurie? You’ve known her since she was little then?”

He blows out a raspberry, “She was a force. Constantly straying away from the two of us and buying things at the store. She was always able to get a discount because the people loved her. Restaurants would let us eat for free because Aurie wooed them.” Kylian chuckles, beaming at his memories of her. 

He blurts, “Do you actually think she loves me?”

Raphael gives him a dubious look, “God, you really are clueless.”

“I don’t want to ruin this for her—”

“Well she fell in love with whatever you showed her,” he states as if it’s the most obvious thing. “You’ll be fine, Kylian. She’s never let just anybody meet Simi, or us for that matter. I don’t recall ever meeting someone for that matter.”

“She said she didn’t have a choice.”

“She didn’t,” he agrees, “but she would’ve sent you away if she didn’t trust you. I wouldn’t have even entertained the idea as well.”

“What,” Kylian bluffs, “did you investigate me too?”

“Of course,” Raphael says. Kylian’s eyes grow wide at his answer, not expecting his answer. “Nothing bad.” Raphael laughs, squeezing Kylian’s shoulder, “We should get some sleep.”

Kylian is able to stall, getting answers out of him about Aurie’s past, like the girl’s mother, Raphael tells him the same thing: that she wasn’t the same after her accident. He tells him about how their life was before Elina’s accident and the moments afterward. Kylian grieves the idea of how much tighter their family was when her parents were together, and the brief moments they shared when they were in the same house. Raphael tells him more stories of their childhood, like the time Aurie tricked them all into thinking she broke her leg, only finally admitting it was a joke after they called for emergency services. Kylian shares his own family tales, Raphael entertaining the idea of their families meeting, and even being open to it happening soon. 

Kylian is able to strike up a deal with Raphael to find Stefan, the little boy from the Netherlands that Aurie had helped. Kylian in return, had to supply him and his family a season’s worth of tickets to the upcoming season. Raphael knew about Stefan, the boy often being mentioned by Aurie when she first started working with him and his family. Raphael had met him a couple of times as well. Kylian just wanted to invite Stefan to the next match. 

Finally, Kylian runs out of questions and lets Raphael go to sleep.

-

When Kylian finally returns to the bedroom, Aurie rolls over towards the door, eyes blinking trying to adjust to adjust to the door opening. 

“Kylian?”

“Yes, mon amour?” Kylian whispers, picking up the blankets and scoping her in his arms. She rests her head on his chest, arms slithering around him. 

“Where did you go?”

“Outside, have you been awake this whole time?”

“Yeah,” she says sheepishly. “I couldn’t sleep.” Kylian reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side of the bed, Aurie peeking up at him. She notices his tensed jaw and sits up, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Kylian quiets. He sits up and pecks her jaw, “Since you’re awake, how about we talk, yeah?” His hand creeps towards the side of her head and rests it gently there, giving her a small smile. 

Aurie’s worry only grows while Kylian takes her hand in his, drawing soothing circles on top of her hands. 

“I want you to be honest with me, even if it hurts me. I don’t care about my feelings, just be honest,” he starts, Aurie’s cheeks rise in temperature. “What did the rock say?”

“Kylian—” Aurie saddens.

“Shh, be honest.”

Aurie frowns, hands almost trembling if it weren’t for Kylian’s hand already wrapped around hers. Her gaze is down as she mumbles, “Traître.”

He smiles, pulling her to kiss her nose, “I love you.”

“What?”

“From now on, Aurèle, I don’t want you sparing my feelings. I don’t care if it’s to protect me, don’t lie to me—unless I am going to panic and you’re trying to calm me down—then that’s okay. But no more lying between the two of us, okay?”

Kylian’s words start to become a blur to Aurie, as well as her vision. She wasn’t sure if she started crying when Kylian asked what was written on the rock or his confession of love, either way, she could only see his growing smile. Her look of bewilderment hadn’t stopped him from continuing, going on as if what he said was no big deal. 

Kylian wipes her tears with his thumbs, Aurie’s memorized with the feeling of his thumb pads stroking across her cheeks and the way his eyes are so concentrated on the task. He looked so serene, so calm. Inviting even. Such a simple act that he’s made to be more intimate just by his eyes. More tears spill and his eyebrows slightly pinch together as he tries to keep up.  

Aurie swipes his hands away, tackling him until his back hits against the blankets, he chuckles loudly and then immediately slaps his hand over his mouth. 

“Aurèle!” he whisper-shouts. “We have to be quiet, they’re sleeping.”

“I love you,” she confesses, a whimsical smile on her as she looks down at Kylian. Her body is pressed entirely on his, elbow propped so that she can look at him, but even then it’s not enough. Kylian places his arm behind his head to look at her, exasperated. 

“I don’t think I heard you right,” he smirks.

She pinches the skin near his ribcage and he scowls, pushing her to his side as he turns to face her. They share a kiss as he repeats, “I love you.”

Aurie’s arms wrap around him securely while Kylian’s hand stays pressed against her waist. She reels back from the kiss, “I’m sorry for lying to you earlier. You looked like you couldn’t take any more bad news for the day that I couldn’t, Kylian. I couldn’t be the one to tell you that.”

Kylian presses his lips together, “It’s okay, Aurie. I can handle a lot more than you think. I know how to, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to spare my feelings or else I’ll be upset. I’ll be okay, I’ll get over it or find a solution.”

Aurie nods as Kylian strokes her cheek again as if he were deliberately massaging the stress away. “You were gone for a while.”

He sighs, “I was going to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Mm-hmm. I know what I can handle and what I can’t. What I can’t handle is knowing that my presence was putting you and Camille’s family in danger. You guys are a close-knit family, and sometimes I feel like I’m not a part of it. That’s okay, but outsiders should be quiet. They shouldn’t be putting you all in danger.”

Aurie’s heart momentarily breaks at the thought of Kylian feeling singled-out. She had always tried her hardest to include him the few times she went out and for the most part she did, but the times they weren’t together, Aurie would be with her family while he was away with his. He hadn’t been around Camille and Raphael for a while, missing relationships that could’ve been formed. 

He continues “I was a little upset that you lied to me but I understand it now. It would’ve been a lot to stomach right then and there.”

“I’m so sorry, Kylian.” Her voice trembles from his words.

“It’s okay, chérie. I don’t think I would’ve lasted an hour without you,” he chuckles. “I spoke to Raphael outside, he was out there too. It’s kind of why I took so long…”

Kylian tells her everything Raphael told him, reassuring her that she would be okay at her home. Kylian recommends letting him have a couple of his security guards at her house so that she could feel safer for the next few weeks. 

She lets out a tired chuckle, “...I was just thinking about cameras, not a whole team.”

“It’s up to you,” Kylian kisses her cheek again, wincing at how cold she felt. He draws her closer towards him, hoping to warm her up, “Bleu would have to meet them so that he doesn’t accidentally attack them.” 

Aurie nods, “That would be wise.” She lets out a yawn, and Kylian reaches over to turn off the lamp and then snuggles back into her arms. 

“I love you,” he mumbles. 

“You didn’t tell me about your day!” she remembers.

“Shh,” he closes his eyes. “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow morning, love.”

“Fine,” she pouts. Kylian opens his eyes and is able to see her bottom lip puckering out. He snickers, kissing her lips. “I love you, too.” 

--

Note: I'm not sure when I will be able to update next, so I've left you guys off with a little bit of fluff. Unfortunately, I had to take an unexpected class last summer that I didn't anticipate, which made me take a month to update. And now I am back in uni with a harsher schedule, I will try to update asap but I really can't promise anything. I apologize for leaving Kylian's day "unknown", any thoughts on how the dinner with his parents and lawyer went? 😏 As always, I appreciate everyone who has read and commented their thoughts whether through anon or a one-word comment, you guys are the best.❤️

Taglist: @karotland @peaky-shelby​ @darlingmbappe @mrs-bellingham​ @kylianswifey​ @kymb-10 @fictional-l0v3r @chaotic-taco-collector-blog​ @itsjuspenny-blog @mattmurdocksbigtoe​ @formula101x @et-in-arcadia-ego77​ @lovekm @okayymochi​ @titti-maja @jokertbh @venus2eros @heli991113​ @neymarloverxxx @444jodie​ @mm2007 @freespirit-51 @flawlessdiamond1​ @euphoriapillz​ @imagesthatlive​ @ohpuckyeah​ @nothingtoes

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January Reading Recs

To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖

Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

2023 Reading Recs

Smallville

Jason Teague

"Sleep. I'll Keep You Safe. " @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: Jason has just helped you escape the clutches of his nefarious mother. Where will you go from here now that you know the truth?

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: When another student makes an unwanted move on you, Jason's not above flexing his assistant coach authority muscle a little to get the guy to leave you alone and send a message.

Big Sky

Beau Arlen

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: He put you with Hoyt and Tonya. For the day. What the hell had he been thinking?

"Sleep. I'll Keep You Safe" @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: Your house is broken into one night when Beau wasn't home and now you find yourself expecting it to happen again at any moment. Will you ever feel safe in your home again?

Dark Angel

Alec Mcdowell

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: You're looking for a way to set yourself up and blend in after breaking out of Manticore. Having heard the rumors, you seek out Max for help. In doing so, you come across someone you had never thought you'd see again.

Being Human Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | @zepskies

Authors Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.

The Boys

Soldier Boy

"Sleep. I'll Keep You Safe" @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: You're tired of running and you go to Soldier Boy for protection. He agrees to do it but not without a price.

Possessive @kaleldobrev

Authors Summary: Ben is highly against when other men hit on you

Dawsons Creek

CJ Braxton

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: You had only meant to call once, remaining anonymous while feeling out the whole helpline thing for yourself. Now, you talk to CJ every Friday night around the same time. When you don't call one Friday, CJ is worried and comes looking for you which presents its own host of problems.

Good Morning @zepskies

Authors Summary: Your attempts to get your boyfriend out of bed don’t go as planned.

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Smoke Eater Part 19 | Epilogue @zepskies

Authors Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

Desire (The Wanton Song) @deanbrainrotwritings

Authors Summary: Dean looks delicious in a suit, that’s it.

What Awaits You In The Dark @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Authors Summary: After sleeping with Dean, Y/N really wants to sleep next to him too. Dean seems reluctant. Can Y/N figure out why?

Wake Up Call @wayward-dreamer

Authors Summary: Y/N starts Dean's birthday in a special way.

Blush @kaleldobrev

Authors Summary: For the first time in your life, you can say you’ve made Dean Winchester blush

Always @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Authors Summary: When Y/N storms out in anger, Dean is afraid he's lost her.

Privilege @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

Authors summary: dean admits he feels old and you can’t help but gawk at his thinking

Tourniquet @impala-dreamer

Authors Summary: Y/N has been by Dean's side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment's peace.

Sam Winchester

Tic Tac Toe Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | @percywinchester27

Authors Summary: The reader shifts into a new city after being offered a dream job by a big firm. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect after an ugly break-up with a douche-bag Ex. But things turn out not as dreamy as she’d want them to be and the only thing that keeps her smiling is a totally coincidental game of Tic Tac Toe.

Untitled Sam Drabble @supernaturalfreewill

Authors Summary: Imagine sending Sam little texts throughout the day. They're his favorite thing and cheer him up during long hunts...

We Could Stay @imaginesfordifferentfandoms

Prompt - Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second

It's All Coming Back To Me Now @sams-sass

Authors Summary: You are falling for Sam until Swan Song happens, but there is something you don't know.

Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Unopened At Your Feet Chapters 1 - 5 @thoughtslikeaminefield

Authors Summary: This is the story of how I broke my own heart.