#not voting isn't going to stop the seat from being filled

[mandomaterial]

Forgotten pt.5

Pairing: Tonowari x Metkayina!Reader

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warnings: none actually, maybe a little angst, crying, Jake and ‘wari are bros, siblings being nice to each other, little fluff

Notes: sorry this took so long- but i hope you you like it. Im going post anther vote about what’s going to happen cus i cant decide for myself :P it’s pretty important to the plot so please check it out once i post it. Pic not mine, credit to the owner!

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Tonowari stood at the edge of the beach, staring out at the endless expanse of water that stretched out before him. It had been a week since his mate had been taken by the enemy, but the pain in his heart had not lessened.

He missed you so much, and the thought of never seeing her again was almost too much to bear. He had retreated to the beach, hoping that the sound of the waves crashing against the shore would soothe his troubled soul.

As he stood there, lost in his thoughts, for who knows how long until he felt a presence approach him. Thinking it was one of the hunters, he shook off his thoughts and prepared to speak to his clan member. But to his surprise, it was Jake.

Tonowari stayed silent as he watched the warrior come closer to him, coming to a stop next to him. “Mind if I join you?” he asked the Olo’eyktan, who made a little hand movement, signaling that it was alright. Over the last few months, Tonowari and Jake grew closer, even becoming friends, they had a few things in common; being a clan leader and the burden of it, experience in battle; and most of all, a family that they’d protect with their life.

Jake sat down, and patted the ground, silently asking Tonowari to take a seat as well. He obliged, taking in the view of the ocean. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Jake said, trying to break the heavy silence that hung between them. Tonowari nodded but didn't say anything. He was lost in his thoughts, consumed by the pain of his loss. Speaking felt all too difficult for him on some days, as if his mouth was filled with endless sand, scratching his tongue and trickling done his throat.

Jake knew better than to push him to talk, so he simply sat there in silence, his presence a comforting reminder that he was not alone. Tonowari wanted to talk, he didn’t know about what, but he wanted to talk. The only problem was that he didn’t want to speak; he didn’t want to utter a single word, for that is how he handled his grief. So he settled on the next best thing, signing.

« I miss her » he signed, hoping that Jake caught on.

“Huh- Oh…”

« I miss her so terribly much. She is my everything and she was taken from me » he continued «It was my purpose to protect her; to make her happy. I failed. I failed her, Jake… »

Jake sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know, tsmukan. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through right now. I know it hurts; I feel your suffering.”

« I don’t know how to go on without her » he signed, feeling utterly depressed, tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to spill.

“You have to go on. I know it’s hard; I hit rock bottom once too. But once you do, the only way is up.” he retaliated, tightening his grip on his friend’s shoulder “You have to be strong for your people; for your children. They need you, now more than ever! Be there for them. Be their rock.”

Hearing this brought a sense of responsibility over Tonowari. Jake was right, he needs to be strong for his people and his family. Tonowari looked out at the ocean again, his mind racing with thoughts and memories. He knew that it would be difficult but he would manage, he was the leader after all; everyone believed in him and he couldn’t let them lose that trust. He would do his best to bring his people happiness, just like you did. He would be like you. Now that he thought about it, it was all the small things you did that spread joy throughout the village. You did so many good things and everyone enjoyed them; your parties, the dances you learned with the performers, your singing -oh how he missed your singing… your gentle voice- the list goes on and on. Tonowari would do everything you did, to the best of his abilities.

After a few more moments the two men got back on their feet, looking at each other. Tonowari signed «Thank you, brother» before reaching his arm out for their handshake. Jake cracked a smile and joined in. Not long after the two parted ways, Jake was on his way back to the village and Tonowari still walking along the beach.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tonowari walked along the beach, the sun beating down on his back. He decided to go visit your favorite spot, a small cove filled with shells and small wildlife. Approaching the cove, he saw his son, Ao'nung, sitting alone in the sand, staring out at the ocean. Why was he here? Why wasn’t he with his friends?

“Ao'nung” Tonowari said, his voice soft. Ao'nung turned to him, eyes red-rimmed with tears. Seeing his usually happy and mischievous son like this made Tonowari’s heart crack a little as he sat down next to him, sighing. "What are you doing out here all alone?" he asked.

Ao'nung just shrugged, trying to avoid talking about his feelings. “Why aren’t you out having fun with your friends? A young boy shouldn’t be sitting all alone in an isolated cove all day. How did you find this place anyway…” his father tried again.

“Mom showed me… she said it was her favorite.” He uttered with a cracking voice. “That is true; this is your mother's favorite place. I spent a lot of time here with her. And… we took you here just after you were born. We were so happy” Tonowari smiled at the memories as he told his son about the little cove. Ao'nung liked listening to stories about you, so he asked “Did anything else happen here?”

Tonowari shuffled a bit closer, wrapping an arm around his son. “I asked her to be my mate here.” As he said this he felt Ao'nung’s ears and eyes twitch in curiosity “It was a beautiful day and I had planned it out for weeks. Your mother was actually quite oblivious to all my advances, so I had to sit her down and tell her very clearly that I wished to court her.” Tonowari chuckled “I led her here at noon so that no one would bother us. She thought we were going out for a picnic, which we actually did, but I wanted to give her a proper courting gift as well. I gifted her a beautiful necklace that I spent a week making myself. Do you know the one that she wears on special occasions? The one with the many shells and pearls?” His son nodded “That’s the one I gave her when she accepted. I was so happy that she wanted to be with me. It was one of the best days of my life” He grinned as he looked down at his son.

“I miss her, Dad. I miss her so much.” He said, his voice full of despair.

“I know, I miss her too…” Tonowari replied, patting his son's shoulder. “But we need to be happy. She wouldn’t want us to be sad right? Mama wants us to be happy… even if she isn’t here with us…” he tried to comfort his son.

A tear rolled down Ao'nung’s cheek “I don’t want to be happy… not when she’s not here. I feel guilty…”

“Ma’itan, listen. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know that we will see her again. And until then, we have to live, we have to keep her within our hearts, and we have to live for her. She might be scared and unhappy, but if we live, welcoming every emotion, she will feel it; she will feel us. Through our great mother, Eywa. Do you understand?” He held eye contact with his son “We need to be strong. I need to be strong, but I can’t do it alone. So I need you and your sister to be strong. If we are, then Eywa will lead her back to us.”

Ao'nung felt a lot better after his father's little pep talk, he swore that he would try and live, he would try to be happy; for you. Together they sat at the shore, not talking, just enjoying the sea until it started getting darker. Tonowari spoke up “Come, we must head back, or else they will start sending out troops to find us.” He joked a little. Ao'nung cracked a smile and walked close next to his father, still feeling a little down. Of course, Tonowari noticed this and put his hand on Ao'nung’s shoulder “Don’t worry, everything will be alright” he comforted the boy as they walked.

After hearing that little pep talk

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Back at the village, they parted ways; Ao'nung joined his friends, that were hanging out with the Sully kids by a rock pool and Tonowari tended to his people.

The group saw Ao’nung coming and waved him over., geeking over Lo’ak. He sat down next to Tsireya and listened in to the conversation. They were talking about when the Tulkuk would return, but he didn’t care. His mind was swarmed with memories and thoughts about you. Were you okay? Were you going to come back? How long would it be till he would see you again? It was as if a light went on- the spirit tree. He could try to see you there.

Ao'nung pondered whether or not he should tell his sister when the group suddenly started getting up. Pushing his thoughts to the side, he stood up as well and looked at his sister in confusion. She got the memo and whispered to him “They have to go to a family meeting” “Ah- okay” he replied. The sullys left and Tsireya was about to accompany Lo’ak when Ao'nung called out to her “Hey wait- I need to talk to you. Alone.” he added, to make sure that the sully boy would leave.

His sister waved off the guy and then turned to him. “What's going on?” Ao'nung shuffled around and mumbled, “I’m going to the spirit tree, you wanna come with'?” He hoped that he would say yes; he didn’t want to go all alone.

Tsireya let out a little gasp “But it’s already eclipse… you know that we aren’t allowed to leave the reef this late…” Ao'nung rolled his eyes “Of course I know! But I have to go… I need to see Mom… you do too, right?”

Tsireya was unsure, she wanted to see you but she also do want to get in trouble with her already tense Father. The need to feel you again was greater than the one to not get in trouble. “Okay… but we can’t be seen!” She warned as Ao'nung started smirking.

They waited until most of the people retreated to their pods for the evening, then sneaking to the shore while calling for Ilus. Two instantly appeared and they looked around one last time before making the bond and diving under.

They traveled swiftly under the dense water, only seldomly coming up to the surface for air, having done this all their life. The Ilu passed the reef barrier unnoticed and soon they were out in the open sea, on their way to the cove of the ancestors.

Having been there many times, they didn’t even need to think about the way, they knew it by heart. Although they never imagined coming here together this late for a reason they could never have expected. A truly sad reason. As they closed the distance between them and the sacred place, Tsireya felt her eyes start to sting, quelling with tears, even under the water she felt the tears rolling off her cheeks, letting out little sniffles when she raised her head out of the water.

Ao'nung heard her little sounds of distress and slowed down, swimming closer to her. He gave her a look that asked if she was okay. That only made her shake her head and leg out little sobs. Her brother felt his heart sink, he hated seeing his sister like this, so unhappy. He gently pulled her and rested his head on hers, rubbing her back with his hand. “Hey… it’s okay… we can go back if you want?” “no…no, I wanna go… we came all this w-way…” she whimpered.

“Alright… it’s not much further” Ao'nung reassured her whilst slowly letting go of her. She rubbed the last of her tears away and followed her older brother's lead to the cove. The waves were calm and little whitecaps tickled her legs as the cove came into view.

Everything was silent except for the gentle sound of waves crashing against rock. The peaceful and familiar atmosphere calmed the teenagers down as they entered the sacred grounds. Ao'nung looked back to his sister, waiting for her to catch up.

Once together, they broke tsaheylu and swam closer to the tree. Tsireya gripped her brother's hand and he gave it a little squeeze in return. Taking a deep breath they dove under the water's surface, swimming closer calmly. Suddenly a sense of nervousness washed over them, not feeling ready to face you. But together they pushed forward, holding each other's hand until they were just in es apart from a bright leaf of the tree.

Reaching back, they both took a hold of their queue and brought it in front of them, close to their heart. With one last look at each other, they bonded with the tree. For a few moments they felt nothing, but as soon as they opened their eyes again they were met with sunshine. It was a strange feeling, to see the sun when they knew that it was dark. As they looked around more, they noticed that they were on the beach of the reef, somewhere where they spend most of their time.

It looked like the beach was empty, except for a slender figure, crouched down collecting shells. Instantly they recognized the figure, it was you. With unsteady steps Ao'nung started walking towards you, pulling his sister along with him.

There was barely any distance left between you when he spoke up “Mom?” with a shaky voice. Recognizing the voice you turned around looking up at them before standing up yourself, storing the little shoes in a pouch that was strapped to your hip.

You saw that sadness struck their faces and yours scrunched up in confusion “Is everything alright? Did something happen?” you asked with a concerned voice.

Tsireya looked down, not being able to answer so Ao'nung replied “N-no… everything’s okay,” with a shaky voice “we just m-missed you”, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking while he held eye contact.

You cooed and pulled them close, each under one of your arms, and hugged them tightly. “Don’t worry parultsyìp, I’m right here. I’ll always be.” Hearing that made both of your children break down, being unable to hold back sobs of sorrow and pain, holding tightly onto you. This worried you even more. What had happened? Why were they so upset?

You gently guided them down onto the sand so that they could calm down, but they continued to cry. You didn’t know what to say, you’d never seen them like this before, so you just stayed silent; comforting them with gentle pats and little shushes.

This went on for a while, but you just let them cry it out; let them spill all their pushed-down emotions. You started stroking your fingers through their thick locks of hair and smiled, they’d inherited that from their father.

Their cries muted to sniffles and your hands tilted their chins up so you could see their faces. Eyes bloodshot and nose stuffy, they looked just as precious as always, you thought while gently caressing their small faces, even if they weren’t that small anymore.

“I missed you, mama…” you heard Tsireya whisper, not knowing what she meant because you’d been with them in the morning. “I missed you too 'itetsyìp” you have her a little kiss on top of her head. You noticed your son shuffle a little and out of maternal instinct, you knew that he wanted affection as well. “I missed you too ma'itan” you smiled and gave him the same little kiss on the head.

They both snuggled closer, never letting you go. You knew that they didn’t want to talk about whatever happened so you just let them be, spending some quality time with them. The three of you stayed silent, enjoying each other’s presence as you watched the ocean.

But soon Ao'nung felt his throat constrict, he knew that they needed to return to the surface for air, so he grabbed his sister's hand and squeezed it. She seemed to get the same feeling as him and simultaneously their eyes shifted to you. You returned a curious look and offered a smile. “Do you need to go? Are you supposed to be somewhere else?” You questioned with a joking tone in your voice.

Their eyes only turned sad; they had to leave you. Leaning close to you they hugged you tightly; not ever wanting to let go. They whispered “I love you” while pressing their faces into your chest; getting as close as possible one last time. You chuckled and returned “I love you two as well. You know that right? No need to be upset…” They didn’t respond, only trying to stay with you for a few more moments.

Ao'nung opened his eyes and you were gone; he was back underwater, in dire need of air. He looked over to his sister and saw that sadness has struck her face once again. He held onto her smaller hand and undid the bond. She did the same and they floated up together. Both of them took a deep breath once they reached the surface, air filling their lungs.

Just breathing for a few minutes, they stared up into the sky. The stars flickered brighter than ever it seemed, with no clouds hiding them. They decided to stick around a little bit and continue looking at the stars. Swimming over to the little rock shore took a few minutes but as they sat on the small smoothed down rocks, it was worth it; truly a beautiful sight.

Peace and quiet filled the air, calming the troubled young souls as they stared into the sky. “Ao'nung… thanks for taking me with you…” Tsireya whispered, turning her head to look at him. He looked back “Thanks for coming with me” he whispered while smiling.

Just as they were about to call out for Ilus Ao'nung spotted something traveling through the waves. He instantly grabbed his sister and pushed her down, accidentally making her swallow water. She was just about to jell at him when he shook his head and had a panicked look on his face; she stayed silent and searched for the thing he’d seen.

As the figure came closer it seemed to take the shape of a person riding a tsurak. Who else would come out here this late? The two of them stayed hidden and continued watching. The animal came to a stop just in front of the spirit tree and the figure dove under.

Not being able to see from the surface the two teenagers also stuck their heads underwater to try and find out who it was. The certainty didn’t expect to see their father on his way to the tree. Had he found out that the two of them snuck away? How did he find out that they were here?

But it seemed like he wasn’t looking for anything. We just raised his queue, making the bond with a leaf. The two siblings shot each other a confused look, wondering what he could be doing when Tsireya suddenly realized. «I think… I think he’s here to see Mom… just like us» she signed underwater. Ao'nung’s face scrunched in realization; of course, he was here to do that.

Another thing crossed his mind «We need to go back to the village,» he signed «before he does, or else we’ll be in a lot of trouble» Tsireya agreed and they quietly called for their ilus, hoping that their father wouldn’t realize. They got on and started to ride away when they looked back one more time. Even though they couldn’t see their father's face, they could tell that he was grieving, noticing how his body tensed up unnaturally and he clenched his fists. The two felt bad for him; they’d try to comfort him tomorrow.

With that, they sped off back to the village.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

🌕 Blood Moon: Chapter Ten

Blood Moon: Blood Moon: You have been defying nature, and perhaps, even the Gods. After returning to life because of Tony Stark’s sacrifice, all humans now have a designation: alpha, beta, or omega. Angry at the fate you’ve been given, you decide that you will do anything to ensure that your fate is in your own hands. You’ll soon find out that it is never a good idea to tamper with fate, especially when one man makes it his mission to ensure that you understand that you can try to out-fly your destiny, but fate will eventually catch up to you.

Warnings: Pregnancy, Mind Fuckery, Vomiting.

To Note: A/B/O Universe Post Snap, Zemo x NAMEDFemale!Reader, Timeline Of Events Is More Spread Out (Weeks Rather Than Days) To Fit Plot Line.

Word Count: ~5.4k

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The morning sun filters through the thin curtains, casting a warm glow across the kitchen table. You sip your coffee, savoring the quiet before the day begins. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and pancakes fills the air, a comforting routine you've grown to love.

Bucky and Sam enter, both looking more serious than usual. Sam grabs a mug and pours himself some coffee, while Bucky takes a seat across from you.

"You look like you didn't sleep much," you say, eyeing Bucky's tired face.

"Couldn't sleep," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "Something's been bothering me."

Sam sits down next to him, his expression equally grim. "We've got news from New York," he starts, glancing at you before looking back at Bucky. "Flag Smasher activity's been on the rise again."

You set your mug down, the weight of his words sinking in. "What do they want now?"

Bucky leans forward, resting his arms on the table. "They're getting bolder. More organized. It's not just random acts anymore; there's a pattern."

Sam nods in agreement. "We've been tracking them for weeks. Last night we got intel on a possible attack on the GRC while they're voting."

Your heart skips a beat at their words. The Flag Smashers have caused enough chaos already; the thought of them escalating further is chilling. Violence in New York would injure so many people.

"So what’s the plan?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"We need to head back to New York," Sam says firmly. "Figure out what they're planning and stop it before it gets worse."

Bucky's eyes meet yours, concern etched in their depths. "You should stay here," he says softly. "It's safer."

You open your mouth to protest but stop yourself. Deep down, you know he's right. Your body and mind are still recovering from everything it's been through, and jumping into another battle isn't wise.

"I'll stay," you agree reluctantly, hating the feeling of being left behind but knowing it's for the best. "It would—it wouldn't be good for me to jump right back in."

Sam reaches across the table, placing a hand on yours. "We’ll keep you updated," he promises.

You nod, squeezing his hand briefly before letting go. "Just... be careful," you say, looking between them. "Karli has proven that she won't let anything stop her."

Bucky stands up first, giving you a reassuring nod. "We will."

Sam follows suit, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. As they prepare to leave, Sarah enters the kitchen with a curious look.

"Everything alright?" she asks, sensing the tension.

"Yeah," Sam answers quickly, pulling her into a brief hug. "Just some business we need to take care of in New York."

She frowns but doesn’t press further. Instead, she turns to you with a warm smile. "Looks like it’s just us girls with the boys then."

You return her smile, though your mind is already on Sam and Bucky’s mission ahead. You watch as Sam and Bucky leave, the door closing behind them with a finality that sends a shiver down your spine. Sarah’s voice pulls you back to the present.

“Come on, let’s get these boys ready for camp,” she says, her tone light but her eyes concerned.

You nod, grateful for the distraction. Together, you head upstairs to find AJ and Cass, who are bustling around their room, excitement palpable in the air.

“Hey, campers,” you greet them with a smile. “Ready for your big adventure?”

AJ looks up from his suitcase, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. “I can’t wait! We’re gonna do archery and swimming and—”

“And I’m gonna catch the biggest fish ever!” Cass interrupts, holding up a toy fishing rod proudly.

Sarah laughs, ruffling Cass’s hair. “Alright, boys, let’s make sure you’ve got everything packed.”

You join her in checking their bags, making sure they have enough clothes, toiletries, and other essentials. The room buzzes with energy as AJ and Cass chatter about all the fun they’re going to have.

“Don’t forget your sunscreen,” you remind them, slipping a bottle into each of their bags. “And remember to write us letters.”

Cass groans playfully. “Letters? That’s so old-fashioned!”

Sarah chuckles. “You’ll thank us when you’re not sunburned.”

Once the packing is done, you help them carry their bags downstairs. The van is already waiting outside, ready to take them to camp. You can feel a pang of nostalgia watching them; it reminds you of simpler times before life became so complicated.

AJ gives you a quick hug before bounding out the door. “Thanks for helping us pack, Diana!”

Cass follows suit, hugging you tightly. “Yeah, thanks! We’ll miss you!”

“I’ll miss you too,” you say sincerely, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

Sarah walks them out to the van while you stand on the porch, watching as they climb in with excited waves and shouts of goodbye. The van pulls away slowly, and you wave back until it disappears around the corner.

Sarah returns to your side with a sigh of relief mixed with wistfulness. “They grow up so fast.”

You nod in agreement, something deep in your chest rumbling for children of your own. “Yeah, they do.”

Two weeks have crawled by since Sam and Bucky left for New York. Every news broadcast has your attention, every headline about the new Captain America—a mix of horror and pride fills you. Sam wielding the shield, standing up to threats, showing the world what a true hero looks like. You’ve watched him become the symbol of hope he was always meant to be, even if it means he’s not here.

But your body betrays you. You sit at the kitchen table, rubbing your swollen fingers, trying to ignore the dull ache in your side. The headaches come and go, leaving you disoriented. The dizziness often forces you to grab onto the nearest piece of furniture for support. It’s getting harder to brush off.

Sarah walks in, a basket of laundry balanced on her hip. She eyes you with concern as she sets it down. "You don't look so good," she says bluntly.

You snort, managing a weak smile. "Thanks for that."

"Seriously, Diana," Sarah continues, her tone more gentle now. "You've been complaining about headaches and feeling off for days. What's really going on?"

You sigh and lean back in your chair, wincing as another wave of nausea hits. "I don't know, Sarah. My legs are swollen, my fingers too. I keep getting these dizzy spells and—" You gesture vaguely at your chest. "My breasts are sore. What exactly am I doing to make them feel like that?"

Sarah's eyes narrow thoughtfully as she sits across from you. "It almost sounds like you're pregnant."

You laugh it off at first, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, right."

But then you freeze, memories crashing back in vivid detail—the unprotected sex with Zemo... twice. Your hand instinctively goes to the bite mark on your shoulder, a stark reminder of that intense night.

Sarah watches as realization dawns on your face. She raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

"Oh no," you whisper, panic bubbling up inside you.

"Diana?" Sarah’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

"I think I'm going to throw up," you say quickly before bolting from the table and rushing to the bathroom.

You kneel on the cold bathroom floor, gripping the edge of the toilet as your stomach twists and turns. The sour taste of bile lingers in your mouth, and you heave again, emptying what little remains in your stomach. Sarah is there beside you, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. The gentle motion provides a small comfort amidst the chaos swirling inside your mind and broiling in your stomach.

“Breathe, Diana,” she says softly, her voice steady and reassuring. “Just breathe.”

You try to focus on her words, inhaling deeply through your nose and exhaling slowly through your mouth. It takes a few moments, but the nausea begins to subside.

When you finally sit back, Sarah hands you a damp washcloth. You press it to your forehead, grateful for the cool relief.

“Thanks,” you mutter, still feeling shaky and drained.

Sarah sits back on her heels, studying you with concern. “I think we need to know for sure,” she says gently. “I’ll run into town and pick up a pregnancy test.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. You nod numbly, unable to form a coherent response. Inside, panic flares like a wildfire. The possibility that you might be pregnant—carrying Zemo’s child—overwhelms you.

Sarah stands up, offering you a hand to help you off the floor. You take it gratefully, leaning on her for support as you rise unsteadily to your feet.

“I’ll be quick,” she promises as she guides you back to the kitchen and helps you sit down at the table.

You nod again, barely hearing her words over the roar of your thoughts. Your mind races with questions and fears. What will this mean for you? It wasn't like it would be universally acceptable for you to carry and give birth to Baron Helmut Zemo's child. Sam and Bucky could not find out.

“Diana?” Sarah’s voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts.

You look up at her, seeing the compassion in her eyes. “Yeah?”

“Try to relax while I’m gone,” she says softly. “I’ll be back soon.”

You force a weak smile and nod once more. “Okay.”

With that, Sarah grabs her keys and heads out the door, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts and rising panic.

You sit at the kitchen table, staring at the wood grain pattern, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The minutes crawl by, each one feeling like an eternity. The room is silent except for the faint ticking of the wall clock. You feel every second, every beat, pounding in your head.

Your fingers trace absent patterns on the tabletop. You try to steady your breathing, but it's shallow and erratic. The possibility of being pregnant with Zemo's child is too overwhelming to process.

The front door opens, and you hear Sarah's footsteps before she appears in the doorway, a small pharmacy bag in hand. She walks over and places it on the table in front of you.

"Here," she says gently. "Let's find out."

You take a deep breath and nod, reaching for the bag. Your hands tremble as you pull out the pregnancy test. The instructions blur in front of your eyes, but Sarah is there, guiding you through each step.

“Just follow the instructions,” she says softly. “It’ll be over soon.”

You make your way to the bathroom, clutching the test like a lifeline. The next few minutes pass in a haze as you follow the steps mechanically. Finally, you set the test on the sink and sit down on the edge of the bathtub, waiting for what feels like an eternity.

Sarah waits outside, giving you some space but remaining close enough to offer support. You stare at the test, heart pounding in your chest.

Three minutes pass slowly, each second marked by the ticking clock in your head. When time is up, you force yourself to look at the result window.

Two lines.

The world tilts on its axis, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. You’re pregnant. With Zemo’s child.

You open the bathroom door slowly and see Sarah waiting with an anxious expression. Her eyes meet yours, and she knows instantly.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, stepping forward to pull you into a hug. “It’s going to be okay.”

You cling to her tightly as tears stream down your face, your mind still struggling to process everything. Her warmth and presence provide a small comfort amidst the storm raging inside you.

"We'll figure this out," Sarah says firmly as she holds you close. "You're not alone in this. Uh, you know who the father is?"

Her words sink in slowly but surely. You take a shaky breath and nod against her shoulder.

You pull away from Sarah, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "Yes," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know who the father is."

Sarah’s eyes search yours, full of questions. She opens her mouth to speak, but you cut her off.

"Sarah, listen," you say, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. "Sam and Bucky can’t find out about this. They absolutely cannot know."

She frowns, concern etched across her features. "Diana, they care about you. They worry so much. They deserve to know what's going on."

"No," you insist, shaking your head vehemently. "If they find out... It would complicate everything. Sam has enough on his plate with being the new Captain America. And Bucky... He doesn’t need more on his mind."

Sarah sighs, crossing her arms as she considers your words. "But keeping this a secret isn’t fair to them—or to you."

You reach out and grasp her hand, desperation seeping into your voice. "Please, Sarah. I need you to trust me on this. It’s safer for everyone if they don’t know." She studies your face for a long moment, her eyes searching for any sign of doubt. Finally, she nods slowly, though reluctance still lingers in her expression.

"Alright," she says quietly. "I won’t tell them. But you need to promise me you'll take care of yourself and let me help."

A wave of relief washes over you as you squeeze her hand gratefully. "I promise."

Sarah's gaze softens as she pulls you into another hug. "We’ll get through this together," she murmurs against your hair. "With Cass and AJ too."

As you stand there in Sarah's embrace, the weight of the secret settles heavily on your shoulders. You can't stay in Louisiana. Sam and Bucky would find out all too easily and one whiff of you once they know you are pregnant? Game over. You are going to call Oezenik tonight, and get yourself the hell out of the country.

The jet’s hum is a distant memory by the time you land, the night swallowing any remaining traces of the journey. Oeznik's efficiency leaves you in blessed awe; not a single detail out of place. You could kiss the butler for his help. He guides you to a nondescript car waiting on the tarmac, and within minutes, you’re speeding through darkened streets.

He doesn’t speak much during the ride, and neither do you. Your mind is a whirlpool of worry and guilt, spiraling into dark corners you didn’t know existed. The injections—those damn injections. You had taken them religiously, thinking they were your lifeline. Now, the possibility that they could have harmed your baby gnaws at your soul.

The safe house looms ahead, a shadowy silhouette against the midnight sky. Oeznik parks and leads you inside, the silence between you heavy but understanding. The interior is regally spare, but comfortable—exactly what you’d expect from one of Zemo’s safe houses. No frills, just functionality.

Oeznik hands you a keycard and a burner phone before retreating to give you space. “You’re safe here,” he says simply, his tone reassuring but firm. "Anything you require can be found or purchased for you, Miss."

You nod, clutching the items tightly as if they could anchor you in this storm of emotions. “Thank you,” you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible.

He dips his head in acknowledgment before disappearing into another part of the house. You’re left standing in the entryway, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once.

Your feet move on their own, carrying you to what appears to be the bedroom. You collapse onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as tears well up in your eyes. You think about Zemo’s touch, his bite—the moments that led to this life growing inside you.

And then your mind fixates on those injections again. The thought that they could have harmed your baby is unbearable. You feel a surge of determination amidst your fear and guilt.

“I’m done with them,” you mutter to yourself, your voice gaining strength with each word. “No more.”

You search through your bag and find the remaining vials and syringes. For a moment, you just stare at them, feeling both anger and relief course through your veins. Then with deliberate motions, you throw them into the wastebasket by the bedside table.

As if sensing your turmoil, Oeznik reappears silently at the doorframe. “Everything alright?” he asks softly.

You wipe away stray tears and nod. “I’m stopping them,” you say firmly. “There is no need to refill my medicine. I won't be taking it.”

His eyes flicker with something like approval or maybe relief—it’s hard to tell—but he simply nods in agreement. “Understood.”

You lie back down on the bed after he leaves again, a strange sense of calm washing over you despite everything else swirling around in your mind. You’ve made one decision; now it’s time to face whatever comes next. A terrifying thought.

For now though—just for now—you let yourself breathe.

You wake to the scent of something warm and savory. The room is dim, shadows stretching across the floor as you blink groggily, trying to orient yourself. It takes a moment for your surroundings to come into focus—the safe house, the bed, the events of the past few days crashing back into your consciousness like a tidal wave.

Your body feels heavy, limbs weighed down by exhaustion and lingering aches. You push yourself up slowly, propping yourself against the headboard. A soft knock at the door startles you slightly.

“Miss Diana?” Oeznik’s voice is gentle but firm, carrying a note of concern.

“Come in,” you croak, your throat dry and scratchy.

The door opens quietly, and Oeznik steps inside carrying a tray laden with food. The aroma makes your stomach rumble in protest. You realize with a start that you haven’t eaten in what feels like forever.

“I brought you something to eat,” Oeznik says, setting the tray on the bedside table. “You’ve been asleep for quite some time—about eighteen hours.”

Eighteen hours. The number shocks you, but then again, it makes sense. Your body had been running on fumes for so long; it’s no wonder it finally gave out.

“You need to take care of yourself,” he continues, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re not just responsible for your own well-being now.”

The reminder sends a shiver through you. Your hand instinctively moves to rest on your stomach, where new life grows. You nod slowly, acknowledging his words.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, reaching for a piece of bread from the tray. The first bite is almost heavenly; you hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until now.

Oeznik watches as you eat, his expression softening slightly. “If there’s anything else you need—anything at all—don’t hesitate to ask.”

You swallow another bite before looking up at him with gratitude. “I will.”

He dips his head in acknowledgment before stepping back towards the door. “I’ll leave you to rest,” he says gently. “But please remember to take care of yourself.”

As he exits the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click, you let out a long breath and continue eating slowly, savoring each bite. As much as you wish for the food to bring you warm and soothe your growing fears, all your mind can focus on it that you are pregnant and without your alpha.

5 Months Later

Your hands move almost frantically, grabbing every towel, sheet, and piece of clothing within reach. The safe house has never felt this small before, every corner filled with the evidence of your growing desperation. Your omega instincts have taken over, driving you to create a nest—a place of comfort and safety for you and your unborn child.

But you’ve never done this before. The pile on the floor is messy, haphazard. Towels draped over chairs, sheets twisted into knots, clothes strewn about in disarray. You’re not sure what it’s supposed to look like, only that it’s not enough. It doesn’t feel right. It's not enough.

You drag another blanket from the closet and throw it onto the heap, then collapse onto it, breathing heavily and trying to rub your scent into the nest to make it more… right. Nothing changes and you feel like screaming in frustration. All you muster is a whimper as you press a hand against your enlarged belly. Your heart races in your chest, and your hands shake with the effort. Your body is screaming for rest, but your mind won’t let you stop. You need to finish this; you need to make it perfect. But it's not!

The scent of fresh linens mingles with the faint hint of dust in the air, but it’s not what you crave. You long for his scent—Zemo’s scent. Even just a trace of it would calm your racing heart, soothe the anxiety clawing at your insides. Your omega whines internally, a desperate plea for its alpha.

You clutch one of his old shirts—left behind in a drawer—from when he had worn it years ago. You press it to your face, inhaling deeply, hoping to catch any lingering trace of him. Nothing. You want to cry, or wail. Your omega likes that option, for it will surely call your alpha back to you.

Your omega stirs in agitation, yearning for more than just a scent on fabric. It wants him here, by your side, holding you close and reassuring you that everything will be okay. But he’s not here. He's not here.

You curl up in the middle of the nest, clutching the shirt tightly against your chest as tears prick at your eyes. The ache in your heart is almost unbearable as you realize how much you miss him—how much you need him right now.

But there’s no time for tears or longing; you have to keep going. More towels, more shirts. Something. You force yourself up again, grunting as you struggle to get your body off the floor. Your belly is so big now, so heavy. You grab more blankets from another room and adding them to the pile. As you work tirelessly to build something that resembles a nest—something that might bring some measure of comfort—you can’t shake the feeling that something vital is missing.

You know what it is; or rather who it is. It makes tears leak down your face because he isn't here.

You collapse in the center of your messy nest, panting heavily, sweat clinging to your skin. The room closes in on you, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. Tears spill from your eyes, soaking into the blankets and clothes surrounding you. Your body trembles with exhaustion, muscles aching from the relentless drive to create a space that feels safe—a space that feels like home.

But it’s not enough. Nothing about this chaotic heap of fabric brings you any peace. It’s a poor substitute for what you truly need: Zemo’s presence, his scent, his touch. The thought makes another sob tear through you, raw and jagged.

You clutch the shirt tighter against your chest, wishing desperately that it could somehow summon him to your side. The ache in your heart grows sharper with every passing second. You bury your face in the fabric, inhaling deeply in a futile attempt to catch even the faintest trace of his scent.

The nest feels wrong, incomplete. You feel wrong—lost without him here to ground you. Your omega howls in frustration and sorrow, its cries reverberating through your very soul.

Another wave of sobs wracks your body, and you curl into a tighter ball, clutching the shirt as if it’s the only thing keeping you from completely unraveling. The tears flow freely now, each one a testament to how deeply you miss him.

The weight of your emotions and physical exhaustion finally begins to pull you under. Your sobs gradually subside into hiccuping breaths as your body succumbs to the need for rest. You’re too tired to fight anymore—to keep pushing yourself when there’s nothing left to give.

As sleep creeps over you, a part of you hopes that maybe—just maybe—you’ll find some solace in your dreams. A fleeting moment where Zemo is with you again, even if only in your mind. Your breathing slows, the tension easing from your muscles as darkness claims you.

Yet sleep eludes you. Every time you close your eyes, your mind jerks you awake with a jolt, demanding you continue nesting. Your body aches, muscles twitching with the relentless need to make the space perfect. Each attempt to settle down is interrupted by another burst of energy, driving you to rearrange the blankets and pillows once more.

You toss and turn, sweat slicking your skin as frustration mounts. The urge to nest is overwhelming, primal, consuming every thought. You drag yourself out of the nest again, gathering more towels from the bathroom, another blanket from the closet. Your hands move almost mechanically, folding and refolding, arranging and rearranging. But no matter what you do, it never feels right.

You slump back into the center of the nest, gasping for breath as exhaustion seeps into your bones. Tears blur your vision, and a choked sob escapes your lips. The room feels suffocatingly small, the walls closing in on you as your omega howls in despair.

Just when you think you can't take it anymore, the door creaks open. You don’t even have the strength to look up, your body too heavy with fatigue and emotion.

A familiar scent fills the room—rich, comforting, grounding. Your heart leaps in recognition even before his voice reaches your ears.

"Diana."

Your head snaps up, eyes wide as they lock onto Zemo standing in the doorway. He moves toward you with purposeful strides, his eyes filled with concern and something else—something that makes your heart ache with longing.

You try to speak but only manage a strangled whimper as he kneels beside you. His hands are gentle but firm as they cup your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears streaking down your cheeks.

"I'm here," he murmurs softly, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm here now, Draga."

The tension in your body melts away under his touch, replaced by a profound sense of relief. You lean into him, burying your face in his chest as more tears spill forth—not from sadness or frustration this time but from sheer overwhelming emotion.

You pull away from Zemo, anger simmering beneath the surface. "You left me like this," you spit out, voice trembling with fury and exhaustion. "I’ve been agonizing over possibly injuring our child alone. All because of those damn injections I was taking before I knew I was pregnant."

Zemo’s eyes soften, his hands still cradling your face. “Diana,” he begins, his tone soothing but firm, “there were things that needed to be done before I could return to you. Important things.”

“Important?” you nearly shout, your body trembling with the effort. Your protective Omega instincts make your eyes blaze with fury. “More important than being here for me? For our baby?”

He shakes his head, a pained expression crossing his features. “No, never more important than you. But necessary.”

Your breath hitches as tears blur your vision again. The weight of everything—the fear, the uncertainty, the loneliness—crashes down on you. A whine stirs in your throat, a noise of defeat. “I’ve been so scared,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Scared that I hurt our baby with those injections.”

Zemo’s grip tightens slightly, grounding you. “Diana,” he says softly but urgently, “listen to me. Those injections—once I realized what they were and that you were an omega—I started weaning you off them in Madripoor.”

You blink at him in confusion, the words not quite sinking in. “What do you mean?”

“The injections you took while pregnant,” he explains slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, “were nothing but saline and a nonharmful scent that mimics chemicals. They couldn’t harm you or our child.”

The revelation hits you like a freight train. Relief floods through you so intensely that your knees buckle, and Zemo catches you effortlessly, pulling you into his embrace.

You break down completely then, sobs wracking your body as the tension and fear finally release their grip on you. You can’t find it in yourself to be mad at him anymore, or angry—not when he’s here now, holding you together when you feel like falling apart. He was the entire reason why you felt like you were falling apart, yet you still couldn't be mad at him.

His hands stroke your hair soothingly as he murmurs comforting words into your ear. “It’s okay,” he whispers over and over again. “I’ve got you now.”

You cling to him, drawing strength from his presence—your alpha, who is finally here with you.

Eventually, Zemo stands and helps you up gently, guiding you out of the room and into the hallway where Oeznik waits patiently.

“We’re going to a new safe house,” Zemo tells you softly as he leads you outside to a waiting car.

The drive is quiet to the airport but not uncomfortable; Zemo keeps one hand on yours the entire time as if reassuring both of you that this is real—that he’s really here. You are carefully helped onto the plane and directed to a seat where Zemo sits next to you.

The hum of the private jet's engines fills the cabin, a constant, soothing background noise as you sit beside Zemo. His hand never leaves yours, grounding you with his presence. Oeznik pilots the plane with practiced ease, guiding you through the clouds toward your destination.

Your heart races with anticipation and anxiety, a strange mix that leaves you breathless. So close, need nest. Nest. Zemo’s thumb strokes the back of your hand in slow, reassuring circles. You lean your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the rhythmic motion of his touch calm your racing thoughts.

“We’ll be there soon,” Zemo murmurs softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nod slightly, not trusting your voice to speak. Time bends to your addled mind, making the trip seem faster than it is. Oeznik’s voice crackles through the intercom.

“We’re approaching the landing strip.” When the plan lands, you bare barely unglue yourself from Zemo's side to exit the plan. Zemo squeezes your hand gently as he stands, guiding you to follow him. You grip his hand tightly, drawing strength from his presence as you make your way off the jet and into a waiting car.

The drive up the winding mountain roads is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. The Swiss Alps loom majestically around you, their snow-capped peaks glistening in the sunlight. Your mind drifts back to the conversation on the plane—the reassurance that everything will be okay now that he’s here.

Finally, the car pulls up to a secluded chalet nestled in a grove of pine trees. The air is crisp and clean, filled with the scent of pine and fresh snow. Zemo leads you inside without a word, his grip firm yet gentle as he guides you through the cozy interior.

The chalet feels like a sanctuary—warm wood tones and soft lighting creating an atmosphere of comfort and safety. Zemo’s scent is everywhere here, enveloping you in its rich, comforting embrace. He leads you up a staircase to a bedroom at the end of the hall. Your heart pounds in your chest as he opens the door and steps aside to let you enter first.

The sight before you takes your breath away. The room is dominated by a large bed piled high with blankets and pillows—a nest meticulously crafted and coated in Zemo’s scent. The air is thick with it, wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

Zemo stands behind you, his presence a comforting weight. "I prepared this for you," he says softly, his voice filled with an emotion you can’t quite name. You turn to look at him, your eyes wide with gratitude and something deeper—something that makes your heart ache in a way that’s both painful and beautiful.

Without another word, you move to the nest, sinking down into the soft layers of blankets and pillows. The bed is vast and inviting, and you curl up in the center, pulling a blanket to your nose to breath in his scent. Zemo follows, sitting beside you and watching with an intensity that you don't register. You can't, your mind is only focused on his scent enveloping you. It's the perfect nest.

Date Published: 6/18/24

Last Edit: 6/18/24

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[srslysierraa]

By The Shadows.

Prompt ;; Being in the good graces of the Fatui isn't exactly something you should tell the world about, and by the looks of it even The Balladeer votes against it. Not only would it complicates his status as a Harbinger, but also because he prefers to stay unnoticed when it comes to something personal to him. I suppose you'll have to deal with him unseen.

Type ;; one-shot fic, fluff(?)

Chars. Involved ;; scaramouche. [Genshin Impact]

A/N ;; this was requested by an irl of mine who's been in their scara brainrot phase for some time. I really hope we can get more scara content soon😭. I'm absolutely sorry if this is very floppy I'm actually genuinely having writer's block rn and this ending is not it omg.

The pitter patter of the puddles splashing as raindrops hits every second or so has you sprinting to try and get out of the rain, you avoided stepping into puddles as to not create a splash that would further dirty your clothes and legs. Thunder roared as lightning flashed, smell of rainwater filling your nose as you try to move swiftly to avoid the falling water.

Though you've been running in the rain for only around a minute or so, in your book, that's one minute too much- especially now that you're undoubtedly a bit soaked due to it. But you couldn't help it, you would even spend hours trying to get away even if it were to be raining rocks, all simply to see him.

It was a promise you two made to eachother, that in whatever circumstances you two will find a way to be in the other's arms. Well, it wasn't exactly that, as if The Balladeer of the Fatui would actually say that, but it basically was what he meant. As you stroll to through the woods in Inazuma, you noticed how the rain was starting to go slowly, before disappearing, leaving the sky before the soft ray of sunlight went through. It didn't really matter though, considering you're already drenched by the time the rain stopped. Though that might be an exaggeration, semi-drenched? A bit wet? Something like that.

As you slowly approach the small cabin that you know has been taken over by the Fatui for the time being, you slowly began to stop on your tracks, all the while squeezing your clothing to get the water out of it, you even had to focus so you can put some strength into squeezing, not realizing a hand pulled you in by your arm.

You almost fell if it weren't for the other hand catching your body by the last minute, looking up you see the familiar blue hued eyes peering down, overshadowing your presence as he looks at you in a stoic expression. As the arms around you loosen, you regain balance, smiling at the person who had saved you from your fall. Blue orbs staring back, knowing fully well what you're gonna say.

"Shut it, idiot. Not here, too many people. Go to the back, I'll meet you there."

He didn't even spare a small moment for you to be able to say anything before leaving, though not like you were expecting that he would, you watched as his back vanished from your sight as he walks to a corner, slowly walking yourself to the back part of said cabin, his private place, and very less likely to accidentally stumble towards another member of the fatui. The scent of fresh dew drops filled the air, guiding you to take a seat where beautiful scenery of nature unfolds itself before your eyes. The Fatui really know how to choose a place to stay.

Sweet hummings trailed the air as you waited for the Harbinger, and as fate would have it, the next thing you see is a towel being dropped on your head. "Next time, don't be a fool and find shelter when it's raining. Showing up here looking like you just took a natural shower, have some decency." He scoffed, though he softens ws he hears the way you laughed. Softly. "I'm sorry, but weren't you the same guy that went to my place at two in the morning, soaked from the rain?" Your retorted with a smile on your face, towel in hand as you try to dry your hair.

"So you're deaf now? I'm very sure i was referring to you, not myself." He barks back, grabbing the towel from your hands before plopping it on your head in attempt to dry your hair himself. When that's done, he puts the towel back in your arms before walking by the table near him to put down his comically big hat, you never understood how he's able to put that much weight on his head at all times, but he doesn't seem to mind it, so neither do you.

You put a finger to your chin, making a humming noise as if you're thinking hard. Once you're done, you looked at him with a satisfied expression "Yeah but, that doesn't mean you're any different than me!" "See, dumbass, the difference is that i can take the rain. Now what would happen if you're suddenly sick? You think I'll let you rest just because you have a fever?" He chimed back. You knew better than to actually trust what he says, or at least what he actually said. You knew that he does this a lot, too far up his ass to openly talk about his feelings, but you know just how endearing he can be in his little moments where he puts his walls down. Though for a short a time, you always knew it's worth it.

"Whatever, take better care of yourself next time." You gave him a small smile of confirmation, soft nodding telling him that you'll behave after this moment. He huffed and went back towards you, he was never that tall, but the way he carries himself or the way he looks down at you while you're sitting down can sometimes be menacing in it's own. You almost forgot how you're even in this position in the first place, being in a relationship with one of the higher ranking Harbinger in the Fatui. "I will, i will. I'm not that stupid, y'know?" "I doubt that."

You let out a little 'hmph' in a light hearted manner, as The Balladeer sits down across from you. You got up to sit next to him, not like he minded, he likes it actually, but he would rather face his creator than to actually admit to it. Sweet silence embedded the room for a moment, before he pulls you closer to him, just enough to seem protective without seeming clingy.

"I'll go to your place from now on."

The way it caught you both off guard but not surprising. He has been always just a tad bit dramatic and protective, but you didn't expect him to say it right away. "Scara, you're starting to seem dramatic, it was just rain." You told him. He looks away, avoiding your teasing but genuine gaze to think of a response. "Who told you it was because of that? I could care less, i just don't want us getting caught. There's way too many fools here." He barked, trying to seem unfazed by your words. "You're less interesting than me, i doubt people would come to you often, which means we'll have more privacy."

"So you just want to be alone with me?"

Toiling and teasing as you make sure not to let his words get to you, leaning softly on him as he starts looking at random things near him. A soft grin perked on his face, even he can't seem to wave you off.

"Whatever, if that thought helps you sleep at night. Sure."

[kpop---scenarios]

The Ride (3)

Part One | Part Two |

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Warning: Violence, Blood, Smut

Word Count: 2.8k

"Hey cousin." Rose sneers, looking at you up and down as if you were pathetic. "Not so tough now, are we?" She laughs, fake pouting before erupting in laughter. 

"When grandpa gets.." you begin but she cuts you off quickly. 

"Grandpa isn't going to do a fucking thing. He still hasn't responded to that little home movie we sent." She admits. "We'll give him another few hours before making another move." She finishes with a wink before leaving you alone, closing the heavy door behind her. 

That fucking bitch, you think. Your blood is boiling that she did this to you. You were going to get out of these ropes and when you did, you were going to beat her ass. 

You looked around the room for something, anything that you could use to saw through the ropes. Lucky for you, you see a small nail sticking out of the corner of the wall and you manage to crawl over despite your ankles being tied together as well. 

You stand up, trying to ignore the pain that radiating through your entire body as you rub the rope over the nail, listening to the faint sound of the rope unravelling.

** 

You're laying in the same spot as you were when Rose left the last time, the only difference now is that your hands are free, as well as your feet but she doesn't need to know that. You lay there waiting, just waiting for the moment of her return. 

"We'll start soon. Just let me make her look a little worse." You hear Rose from the other side of the door. Taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself as she opens the door. You close your eyes, waiting for the perfect moment. You listen closely, the sound of her feet dragging gets closer and closer to you. 

She kneels, you can feel her breath as she hovers over you. "Pathetic." She spits. 

"Yes bitch, you are." You say, sitting up and colliding your head with hers to knock her back. She gasps as she stumbled backwards, her fingers reaching up and touching under her nose and feeling the blood leaking down. 

"You bitch." She snarls, charging for you. Her hands balled into fists, she takes a swing for your face, landing the punch on your cheek. You now charge for her, your hand grabbing a clump of her hair, yanking her head down as you lift your knee quickly, hearing the crunch of her nose as her face meets your knee. She lets out a scream as you push her to the ground, walking towards her, your chest heaving. She scrambles to her feet, charging at you like a linebacker, knocking you into the wall. You bring your elbow up, nailing it into her back a couple of times as he continues to pin you. When she finally let's go, she swiftly punches you in the stomach a few times, hitting your ribs, making you double over in pain. 

But you knew if you were going to get out of there, you needed to step it up and fight through your pain. You muster up all the energy you have inside of you and punch her in the face before lifting your leg, kicking her in the stomach, knocking her to the ground. You climb on top of her and feed her shot after shot, until she's crying, blood spewing from her face. 

"Whose plan was this!?" You growl. 

"Mine!" She cries. 

"Bullshit. You're not that smart." You spit. "You sent this to grandpa.. for what?" You ask, hitting her again. 

"It was his idea!" She screams, crying heavily. "It was grandpa who planned this." She finishes. 

You stumble back off her, looking at her confused with tears brimming in your eyes. You and he were so close, this didn't make any sense. "W-what? Why?" You whisper.

"I may have put it in his head you were going to have him voted out and take over." She coughs. "I knew if he thought that, he'd get rid of you and sure enough he tried." She says, still laying on the floor. 

"I would never." You say. 

"Well in his mind, you were. I wanted you gone. You were always his favourite and I hated it. So I thought if I could make him think you were trying to get him out, maybe he'd love me more." She says. 

A few seconds later her two partners run into the room, looking around at all the blood and then seeing Rose laying on the floor. 

"Rose! Rose! Are you okay?" One asks. 

"No you fucking idiot." She scoffs. "Do I look okay? Take me to a hospital." She whines. 

"What about.. her?" The other one asks. 

"Let her go. I'm done with this bullshit." She finishes, as one of the men helps her up. "Here." She says, tossing you a set of car keys. 

You limp your way out to the car, your hand holding your ribs as you climb into the passenger seat. Rage fills your body as you start the engine before speeding out of the gravel parking lot. Rose's words spin through your head as you speed to your grandpa's house. 

Twenty minutes later you speed into the driveway, feeling lucky the gates had already been open. You come to a complete stop, throwing the car into park and getting out, limping to the front door. You bust inside, yelling as you walk down the hallway towards the living room. 

"Grandpa!" You sing as you make it to the staircase, where you see Baekhyun running down to see what was going on. 

"Ayn?" He whispers, staring at you shocked. "How.. how did you get out?" He asks, gently pulling you in for a hug. "What happened? Where were you?" He questions. 

"It was Rose." You breathe, trying not to cry. 

"What?" Baekhyun asks. 

"She did it." You pause. "For him." You spit, your voice is shaky as you point to your grandfather who was standing in the doorway of his office. 

"What are you doing here?." He asks, his face remaining unimpressed. 

"Aren't you happy to see me?" You yell. "I know this was you. Rose told me everything." 

He says nothing. 

"She told me all about how she made you think I was trying to get a vote going to get you out. That's not true! I never did that and would never do that!" You cry. "She lied to you." 

"Oh, now Rose wouldn't do that." He chuckles. "I've seen the way you've been acting around here. Whispering to people, clearly trying to get them to vote for you." 

"I've never once said or did that. Grandpa, you know I would never! You know me! How can you believe her?" You ask, feeling heartbroken.  You couldn't believe that he thought of you like this. 

"You know what, I just need a doctor now. I'm going to lay in my room." You spit, turning to the staircase with the help of Baekhyun.

"I can't have a traitor living in my house." He chuckles. "You are no family of mine anymore, Ayn. And if I were you, I'd watch my back. And don't think about doing anything.. that might harm anyone." He finishes, turning to go back into his office. 

Baekhyun scoops you up in his arms, carrying you out the front door of the house you used to call home. 

** 

An hour later Baekhyun pulls you from his car, carrying you into EXO's house. He carries you inside, calling out for someone. 

"Lay! I need help." He yells, taking you to the living room and laying you down on the couch. 

"What happened?" A blonde man asks, kneeling beside the couch, trying to decide on which wound to look at first. 

"Her grandfather, Chairman Yang had her kidnapped and tortured." Baekhyun seethes, his teeth clenched together. 

"What the fuck." One of the mumbles, his eyes wide as you try your best to breathe. 

"I'm going to need to reset some ribs and some other things. Bring her downstairs, she's going to have to be put under." Lay says. "Kyungsoo I'm going to need your help." He says to another man who rushes off. 

Baekhyun scoops you up again, bringing you down the narrow staircase, and into a room that closely resembles a surgical room at a hospital. 

"You'll be okay." Baekhyun smiles, rubbing your head as you get hooked up to some machines. "I'll be right here when you wake up." He finishes as they inject you with the sedation. Your eyes become heavy and the last thing you see is Baekhyun's smiling face as you close your eyes. 

** 

It feels like minutes, but according to Baekhyun it's two days later you wake up from your surgery. Lay had told him that your injuries weren't as severe as he expected when he went in there but they were still pretty bad and it would take you some time to recover. 

"I have to lay in bed for 4 weeks?" You groan, throwing your hand over your eyes. "I need to get revenge, or do something." 

"You leave that to me, just focus on getting better. But did you have anything in mind for Chairman Yang and Rose?" Baekhyun asks. 

"Take. Them. Out." You grit through your teeth. Your family wanted to turn on you, frame you and disown you? Then you owed them nothing and didn't give a fuck about them. You close your eyes again, the exhaustion taking over once again.  

** 

The 4 weeks you were practically forced to stay in bed were the longest weeks of your life. By the second week, you had been feeling much better but no one would let you do anything, except shuffle your way to and from the bathroom if Baekhyun would even allow that. 

Not to mention, he refused to touch you at all, and to say you were horny was a huge understatement. 

"So I'm cleared now?" You ask Lay. "To do anything?" You ask, winking at him weirdly. 

"Yes, you can have sex now." Lay chuckles, standing up to leave your room. 

You quickly rushed from your bed and to your shower, needing to freshen up before Baekhyun got back from whatever errand he had to run. You scrubbed your hair, your body, shaved every surface, just made sure there was no longer any smell associated with what had happened left. You were dealing with the trauma, but right now you wanted to forget it all and get railed by Baekhyun. 

After your shower, you quickly dried your hair and went to the dresser to find any kind of lingerie. Luckily for you, tucked way in the back was a small little lace piece that was just your size. You ripped the tag off, shoving it back in the drawer before putting it on and loving the way it made your tits look. 

You could hear Baekhyun's voice down the hallway, so you sprinted back into your bed, covering yourself with the covers when Baekhyun walked in. 

"Hi." He smiles. "How are you feeling?" He asks. 

"I'm okay." You smile. "I have a surprise for you." You whisper. "Turn around." 

Baekhyun smiles widely, turning around and tapping his foot as he waits. You get out from under the covers, sitting on your knees you adjust yourself before telling him to turn around. 

When he turns, his mouth drops as his eyes scan your body up and down a few times. 

"I.. uh. Wow. Like.. wow." He says, clearing his throat. "I thought.. " he pauses. 

"Lay cleared me." You purr. 

"For?" He asks. 

"Everything." You whisper. 

You crawl off the bed to where Baekhyun is standing, you can see the outline of his hard cock through his jeans, making your pussy throb. You undo the button and the zipper of his jeans, pulling them down along with his boxers to free his cock. You grip your hand around his already throbbing cock, stroking him from base to tip. 

"So hard.” You moan. You slowly stroke his cock, back and forth, watching the precum already dripping from his red, swollen tip. You lick your lips before opening up your mouth, engulfing his cock, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you begin to hum, the sweet vibration sending so many chills down his spine. 

Your hand pumps his base as your mouth takes on the rest of him, your tongue swirling around. You can feel the saliva seep from your mouth as you swallow him, sucking and pumping until he's almost ready to bust. 

"S-stop before I cum." He growls, but you continue sucking him off, making him pant. His hand grabs a clump of your hair, yanking your head back, forcing his cock from in your mouth. 

"I said stop, baby." He growls, staring down at you. His hand is still gripping your hair, forcing you to look up at him as a mixture of his precum and your saliva drips down your chin. 

"Yes, sir." You smile. 

"Hands and knees." He demands.

Eagerly, you climb on the bed, getting onto your hands and knees, swaying your ass from side to side as Baekhyun comes up behind you. He grabs your ass, squeezing harshly before raising his hand and laying a hard slap on your right cheek, making you yelp. 

"Quiet now, princess." He purrs.

You feel his fingers gently grazing your clit from underneath before moving up, his fingers slowly pushing into your pussy. 

"Ahh." You gasp, it's been so long. Your head drops down as you bite your lip, moving back and forth against his hand. 

"Are you eager?" He chuckles. 

"Fuck me." You beg. "Please push your cock in me and fuck me until I cum all over it." You whine. 

"As you wish." Baekhyun groans. He pulls his fingers from inside you, sucking them clean of your juices. 

He pumps his cock a few times before pushing himself into you, stretching your pussy around his cock. 

"Fuck." You both huff. You missed the feeling of Baekhyun's large cock stretching you out, fucking you raw until your scream. 

"Fuck me hard." You demand. Baekhyun's hands land on your hips, his fingers digging deeply into you. He snaps his hips once, thrusting so hard it jolted you forward, causing shivers to spread across your body. 

"Please. Just like that." You whine. Baekhyun continues to fuck you slow, but thrust hard, making you cry out in pleasure each time. 

His hand leaves your hips, moving to underneath you, his fingers pressing your swollen clit, rubbing the bud and making you cry out louder. 

He hunches himself over you, continuing to rub your clit but his thrusts are fast and hard, pounding his cock into you. 

"Don't.. don't stop." You stutter, your breathing laboured as your orgasm builds so quickly. "I'm gonna.. cum." You whimper, your orgasm spreading through your entire body, making you shake as you cum around his cock. You tighten your pussy, making Baekhyun cry out as he releases himself into you, filling your pussy up with his juices. 

"Fuck." He breathes, sitting up, his cock still inside you. He raises his hand, landing a smack on your ass again, chuckling while he pulls out and drags you to the shower with him, his cum dripping down your leg. 

** 

A few days later, Baekhyun stood by the front door with you, pleading for you to rethink going on a run. 

"I have something else we can do?" He winks, nudging your arm. 

"I need this run but when I get back, definitely." You smile. "Plus we need to go over the retaliation on Chairman Yang. Make sure everything is going according to plan." You finish, giving Baekhyun a peck on the lips before walking out the door. 

You plug in your headphones as the sun shines down on you. You feel good, you're happy and things are working out just the way they should. Just as you leave the gates, you see a familiar car sitting outside, with your grandpa leaning against the car. You pull out your headphones, yelling over to him. 

"What do you want?" You yell. 

He chuckles and shakes his head as he walks towards you. "I told you not to try anything stupid." He says. "And now here you are planning on retaliating against me?" He says. 

"How did you.. " you trail off. 

"How did I know?" He asks. "I've got a rat in there." He laughs. "I warned you. And now you'll pay the price." He finishes turning around to head back towards his car. 

You roll your eyes, turning around to walk the other way. Just as you're putting your headphone back in, you hear what sounds like a gunshot before you feel a hot, burning sensation in your back, along with wetness pouring down your back. You collapse to your knee before falling to your stomach, laying on the gravel bleeding. You barely hear the car driving away, just as you barely hear the sounds of Baekhyun screaming your name before you succumb to the darkness

[crownjimin]

✰ 076 | not such a bad idea, part two.

la vie en rose ━ in which lee aera, a girl who has been crushing on choi soobin for a long, long time, is starting her junior year and her friends decide that its time for her to make her move.

( masterlist | prev | next )

A bit further down the hallway, Aera spots Soobin leaning against the wall quite leisurely. When he notices Aera approaching, he stands up straight and smiles at her. “The other boys went outside already, I waited back for you.”

The action in of itself made Aera’s heart skip a beat, quite a long one since she felt a pain in her chest from the lack of blood flow. But the gesture was sweet, and Aera smiled a coy smile, before answering, “You didn’t have to.”

“Eh,” Soobin shrugged. “It was my choice.”

The two take small steps down the hallway towards the balcony, almost as if the both of them didn’t want to join the others and stay with one another. An eerie, yet comfortable silence began to form, but Soobin quickly interjected.

“Your house is really nice,” he complimented. “So is your mother. She’s so lively and welcoming.”

Aera grimaced at his word choice, because lively and welcoming did describe her mother perfectly but so did embarrassing and overbearing. “Yeah, she’s quite a lot.”

“I think she’s friendly. Didn’t make the whole meeting the parents thing as scary as I thought.”

The words make Aera stop her walking for a second. “You were scared about meeting my parents?”

She looked up at Soobin, who was looking further down the hallway before he slowly turned to face Aera with a nervous smile on his lips. “Just a bit. I don’t know why though since I should’ve expected your parents to be just as nice and wonderful as you.”

“Wonderful?” she lightly breathes out.

“Well, technically, I’ve only met your mother, maybe your father isn’t as nice, but we will see when the time comes,” Soobin continues, either ignoring Aera’s look of disbelief mixed with another unreadable emotion or just not seeing it. “I’m sure he is nice though.”

Aera remained staring at Soobin for a few seconds, him returning the gaze as they stood in the vacant hallway in silence. No one else around, just the two of them staring at one another both with thinly veiled, heated gazes filled with admiration and fondness for the other. But the two did not know that, to them, they were staring at a friend, someone who did not return the same feelings to the same intensity as the other. If only they knew the truth, if one of then took the initiative to be brave and ask.

But neither did ask, instead Aera broke their gaze and brought her eyes to the floor, “I think he’s nice. Well, at least Appa is more bearable than Eomma. He’s not as forward.”

“Forward isn’t always bad.”

“Sometimes,” she replies. “Sometimes it isn't.”

They continue down the hallway now, both of them syncing up their footsteps. 

“But, hey, I’m guessing Sakura hasn’t tried to kill you yet?” Soobin says with a joking lilt, teasing her for her irrational worries.

Aera scoffs a laugh at that. “Not yet, at least.”

The pair finally make it to the doorway and Aera steps to the right to seat herself at the picnic table, muttering the apology she promised her mother she would deliver. Soobin veered off to the left, taking a place on the sofa with the other three boys who seemed to be deep in the talk about a new album from someone Soobin hadn’t heard of before.

Sakura watched as Aera placed down her laptop and notebook, seemingly expectant for the brown-hair girl to say something that Aera wasn’t sure of. Due to this, she raised an eyebrow at Sakura and asked, “What?”

“You didn’t tell me that you invited other people,” Sakura quietly spoke, peering over to the opposite side of the balcony where Taehyun now stood singing a random tune that seemed to have the other three boys enraptured. “Did you purposely not tell me or?”

“No, I-” Aera knows that she can’t lie well. Whenever she tries either her voice raises over to octaves or she blinks repeatedly, for the worst cases she does both. “Maybe we should just start choosing a song. I’ve made you wait long enough.”

“Yeah,” the other girl agrees, not taking her eye off of Soobin as she speaks, and Aera being sure to take note of the action. “Let’s start.”

Sakura and Aera had made progress within the last hour and a half. They chose their song, one by IU where Sakura felt like it was easy to catch the beat, while Aera thought the lyrics were telling yet easy to remember. They then called up the boys to listen to their presentation, allowing them to give out critiques and feedback to their girls where the four boys found necessary. Although Aera was almost certain Taehyun was using this time to show off his vocal abilities, seeing as each time he found a ‘problem’ with the girls’ singing, he gave them a tutorial on how they should be singing and performing it himself.

A few minutes after the girls had gotten started with their performance for the boys, Aera’s parents brought out the loads of ‘snacks’ that they had prepared. Tteokbokki, jajangmyeon, and fried pork cutlets were just a few of the delicacies that the eldest Lees had prepared for their youngest child and her friends. The moment the food had been set out, the six teenagers began feasting.

For the three new young boys, since he was already familiar with Sanha, they were introduced to Aera’s father. The older man took it upon himself to ask each of them their name and speak with them a bit. He relayed the compliments his wife had spoken to him about, but Aera noticed that her father kept going back to Soobin and asking him questions.

Her mother had sat with the girls at the picnic table, being sure to feed Sakura as much food as she pleased and answered any question the bright-haired girl had about the cooking process. For Aera, being around Sakura for these past few hours weren’t as tortuous as she thought. She had expected snarky comments and backhanded words to be spat her way every ten seconds, but Sakura was actually quite (and Aera can’t believe she was thinking it but--) nice.

Sakura has a voice that’s velvety and smooth when she sings, and whenever Aera would mess up a lyric or sing in the wrong key, Sakura wouldn’t belittle her for her mistake. She would actually pause the music and help Aera go over the line once again. The two girls made a better team than they had thought, and once the group had stuffed themselves full, the two girls resumed their ‘performance’ for the four boys.

They sang the song a total of five times before the girls were deemed ‘flawless’ by the quartet. Although, Jeongin wasn’t paying that much attention and Sanha would say that they were flawless after each time they finished their song. Soon all six of them fell into simple conversation, Sakura squeezing onto the two-seat sofa with Soobin and Taehyun, and Aera sitting comfortably between Jeongin and Sanha on the three-seat couch.

Currently, they were debating whether they were Team Iron Man or Captain America, and majority had voted Team Cap, with Jeongin and Taehyun being the outliers who sided with Iron Man.

“Literally, what does Iron Man have to offer,” Sanha argued, “he’s just a rich man in a suit!”

“Exactly,” Jeongin rebutted. “He’s rich, he has money to offer. Do you guys think the Avengers tower, the hulk iron suit thingy, and so many more of the gadgets the Avengers used would have been created without Tony?”

Soobin shook his head at that. “Well, Ultron wouldn’t have been made without Tony either. He literally caused the entire second Avengers movie.”

“Who’s Ultron?” Sakura asked, and Taehyun agreed with her.

“The robot in Avengers: Age of Ultron,” Aera informed them. “C’mon guys it’s literally in the name!”

“And-and also, Captain America is just better because he could pick up Thor’s hammer in Endgame, like,” Aera paused for a second for dramatic effect. “Iron Man couldn’t do that. That means Steve Rogers is worthy.”

“Well Iron Man freaking saved the world and brought back everyone who was dead leafed away,” Taehyun pointed out. “Steve didn’t do that shit.”

“Dead leafed,” Soobin asked in confusion. “But anyways, Steve Rogers was still alive in the end, Tony wasn’t. There is clearly only one winner.”

“But Steve went back,” Jeongin said.

“He still isn’t dead,” Sanha interrupted. “But I’m not going to say Cap is perfect. He kissed his ex lover’s niece like three days after she died. And then went back to be with that same ex lover, so technically he kissed his niece!”

A chorus of ‘eww’ and ‘gross’ echoed throughout the group, while Sanha simply shrugged and said, “Somebody had to point it out.”

Suddenly a vibrating buzz filled the air, and Sakura stood up from her seat. She grabbed her ringing phone and began talking to whoever was on the other line. None of the boys paid attention to her, but Aera was watching her in case it was time for her to leave. Soon after, Sakura hung up the phone and began packing her stuff.

“My mom said she’s outside,” Sakura spoke to the group, making Aera stand up so she could lead Sakura to the front door.

The four boys all echoed different forms of, “goodbye,” as Sakura finished packing her things, and began heading inside. Aera and Sakura made their way back down the hallway and to the front foyer, standing idly for a few seconds as they prepared their farewells.

“Uh,” Aera began. “Thanks, for coming over. I hope it wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be.”

“It wasn’t as bad,” Sakura smiled. “It was actually quite enjoyable, which I never thought I would have had as much fun with someone who I thought was so boring.”

Aera smiled tight-lipped at that, not being sure if she should be offended or grateful. “Thanks? But, yeah, it was fun. At least we got the project done.”

“Yeah,” Sakura placed her hand onto the door handle, pulling it open while still facing Aera. “But really, you’re cool.”

“You too, Sakura.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, turning to leave before she looked back at Aera quickly and said, “Oh! Can you also tell Soobin I’ll text him later? I forgot to say it before I left the balcony.”

The brown-haired girl froze at that statement, a pang of something settling in her chest but she recovers quickly. “Yeah, I’ll tell him when he leaves.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Aera watches as Sakura walks from her front door to the passenger seat of her mother’s car. “Bye.”

She makes her way back out to the balcony, expecting to see the four boys still in their same spots, but instead she is only greeted by Jeongin and Sanha.

“Where are the other two,” she asks, taking their previous seats in their absence.

“They went to go help your mom clean the dishes,” Jeongin says through a piece of fried pork cutlet in his mouth, which Aera doesn’t know where he got it from because she was sure they had finished that off first out of all of the dishes. “Y’know to get in her good ranks again.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t in there too, San San.”

Sanha rests back farther in his seat. “Eh, I think it’s time for me to step down from my position of favorite and let someone who deserves it take the crown.”

“Ah, what a humble fellow,” Aera jokes with a posh accent.

“That I am,” Sanha replies, playing along.

Jeongin mutters something under his breath about the two of them being weird just as Taehyun and Soobin return, Soobin sitting beside Aera on the sofa, and Taehyun choosing to join Sanha and Jeongin on the couch. 

A warm silence takes over the group as no one talks, but Aera does take notice of the fact that she and Soobin are merely an inch and a half apart and with the slightest movement of her knee, their knees would be touching. But she doesn’t have to contemplate whether or not she was going to make the first move, seeing as seconds later Soobin moves his own knee, knocking his jean-clad one with her sweatpant clad knee.

The silence seems to thicken for a moment, and neither of them move an inch. Sanha notices the discreet action, taking it upon himself to not make a big deal and he turns to face Jeongin in order to conceal his smile.

Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all.

[herwoefulcountenance]

A note:

You guys voted sm ut for V-day you got it! This short smut was a challenge to write. I began working on it at the beginning of last month and it went through countless 360 changes and drafts as I always seemed to get stuck. Perhaps it is because of my lack of sm ut writing juice lol. S/O to the writing websites that aided in sparking up some sort of idea. I’m sorry if this isn’t up to par for you and if you imagine the characters differently. 

I'm not one to write much dialogue so if you were expecting that I'm sorry.

It's come to my attention that not all sex is magical so I tried to be a little realistic. Sex isn't perfect it has it's moments. 

Warning: Suggestive Language, Descriptive scenes, slight kink, oral, and penetration.

She swaggered down the hallway leading to Torquil’s office as if she were working a runway. She was fueled with confidence driven by desire. Her beautiful black suede DG military pumps accented with gold halted before Travers’ office door. She tugged at her plaid white skirt with ruffled hem and fixed her matching blazer along with the cuffs of her fitted white blouse. She entered within cautiously.

"It's nice to see you, Lestrange," her director greeted upon her entrance into his office "Mr. Travers," she returned

He shifted in his chair tilting his head to the side studying Leta for several seconds ere assigning her, her task for the time being. The man moved his jaw in advance to pointing at a stack of folders filled with papers with his pen. "Why don't you run those assignments by the Aurors?" he husked. She seized the heavy stack of folders in her arms eyeing him. She then exited his office and made her way to the Aurors area. She was frustrated at the event that Travers had suspended her sinful fantasy of her and Theseus. It had been some time since they'd done anything together. Work took up a majority of their time and the time remaining they had was spent resting. The tension had built up inside of her and she hungered for it.

"Your assignment Leon," she announced tilting her body to the side so that it'd allow for easy access to the stack of folders. She continued with her task feeling like she was at Hogwarts again when professors would sometimes make students hand back assignments to their classmates. She snaked her route to her lover's office which resided a ways away from the rest of the Aurors workspace. Typically she stayed away from him as she didn't want it to seem like their relationship affected her work ethic. But today was different she needed him.

Her hand laid on the slender sinuous golden doorknob as she opened the deep brown wooden door inviting herself into his office. There he was sat at his desk typing up a report. It was silent all that could be heard was the tapping of the keys on his typewriter. He paused his eyes meeting Leta who now stood before his desk. She set down the remaining assignments she had to hand out carelessly. "Leta now is not a good time I'm occupied with this report." he murmured. "You seem stressed" she purred walking to the large windows surrounding his office closing the blinds. She moved around to where he was seated. He took off his spectacles throwing them onto the desk and let out a sigh rubbing the bridge of his nose "It's just that this has been eating my time away and I just can't seem t-" she placed a finger against his lips. She bit her lower lip her brown eyes searching his face "you deserve a break, don't you think?" She ran her fingers lightly over his inner thigh generating shivers. He stood up from his chair his body on autopilot using his right hand to stroke her cheek his eyes peered into hers leading up to an intense kiss. He knew why she was there and he was up for it.

He guided her toward the wall using his body. He was caught up in kissing her that he wasn't aware of a small pile of books in their path. Leta stumbled over them pausing their kiss. Their lips just barely touching as they breathed each other's air. She let out a giggle. He pinned her wrists against the wall resuming what begun. He kissed her hard as if he were desperate. His tongue swirled around hers. She was breathless. He started rucking her shirt up following his splayed hand up across her stomach to her chest. He forced his knee between her thighs as his hand traveled further up wrapping around her neck. His lips brushed against her ear, "How naughty of you Leta to make me want you right here, right now." Theseus growled. He pressed his knee against her mound resulting in her skirt hitching up. Her hips rolled in an endeavor to please herself using his knee. She whimpered at him removing his knee. He wanted her to be patient in the end a glorious reward would come. "Stop teasing me," she whispered beggingly. All Theseus could do was a smirk and let out a chuckle. He shook his head side to side his thumb swiping over his lips as if contemplating. "Patience." he just answered. Theseus wanted more than anything to be buried deep inside her it was apparent. His bulge arose leaving an imprint on his pleated trousers but, he was patient, unlike his lover.

He pulled her further out from the wall grasping her chin and tilting it up. He felt the aura of lust intensely emanating from her. The moment their gaze met, her eyes blazed. Leta felt hazy. His voice was stern "I want you to get on your knees." She did so quickly her knees sinking into the hard floor. It was an unpleasant feeling and one sure to leave her knees red. Her fingertips pinched the silver zipper pulling it downwards. She removed his trousers they now laid on the ground around his ankles. Momentarily his underwear joined along. His full member sprung out. She dipped her tongue into the slit flicking the precum into her mouth. Cupping his balls tenderly she pursed her lips together allowing for a trail of saliva to flow upon his shaft. Her left hand kneaded at them slowly as her right hand wrapped around the wet shaft and started to spread the saliva. Her right hand moved up and down in a twisting-like motion. She slid the head of his member into her mouth her cheeks hollowing. Soon it became engulfed in wet heat. She gave him a sloppy blow-job the suction and pressure causing her cheeks to hollow further. Her eyes shifted upwards solely to be faced with Theseus peering down at her in anticipation. His breathing was ragged his fingers combing through her waves becoming entangled in the sea of silk. She swallowed around his slick member. Occasionally it would escape her lips. A marginal grunt reverberated from the back of his throat. He removed her hands in advance to thrusting his member in and out of her mouth. "I'm gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours," he crooned his grip on her head was firm. In result, she choked tears flowing down her flushing cheeks. He slowly pulled out of her finishing in her mouth. She inhaled sharply heart pounding her reddened lips quivered. He caressed her hot cheek with the back of his hand "I'm sorry Leta you just make a man lose control."

Helping her up from the floor he clumsily transported her to his cluttered desk setting her on the end. He dragged her skirt off his fingers then making their way to the band of both her stockings and panties. He pulled them off as well ripping them in the process. Theseus kneeled down his optics examining her pot oozing with nectar. Both the index finger and the middle finger started to stroke the swollen slit. She was considerably excited. She bit her lips while supporting her upper body and observed him. Occasionally he would part her swollen labia and catch a flash of fleshy pink. He knew that the best way to please his lover was by stimulating her sensitive clit. He parted his lips and began to flick his tongue against her button. Her legs trembled instantly each time his tongue came into contact. She arched her hips begging for more. "Oh God, fuck yes," she cried out. Her body was scorching specifically her lower region. Blood roared in her ears her mind clouded with ecstasy. Continuing with his tongue, he worked his fingers inside of her, her juices creating squelching noises. A strangled noise left the back of her throat as she jerked her hips. It felt like electricity was running through her body furthermore it was overwhelming.

"Theseus!" she gasped "Mmm?" he returned "If you don't stop I'm going to," she pleaded "Is that a bad thing?" he teased.

Her entrance pulsated as fire pooled low in her abdomen. She went limp, panting heavily. He smiles proudly of himself "I didn't think of you to be a squirter." It was unfortunate that only the man gained more pleasure from sex compared to the woman but, he had done his job.

He forced her up in advance to turn her around. She was now bent over his desk her chest creasing the papers that lay. His member sunk into her pussy adrenaline rushing in his veins. Theseus groaned and Leta's skin prickled, she was elated to have him inside of her. "You have no clue as to how bad I wanted this," she cooed. He pulled her hair back off of her sweaty face "I think I do," he rasped. Setting pace his hips slammed into her. She melted at his cock pounding her vagina. Theseus was focused, his breathing was ragged and heavy. His hands held onto the curves of her waist. He had noticed that nowhere on her body was a straight line. She was intricate unlike him. "Fuck," he whispered frustrated in the result of losing his rhythm as his cock slipped out. Despite the slip-up, he got back into the game. Every thrust felt like crashing waves. There was no straight in and out of her entrance he moved side to side frenetically. She tightened around him wet noises coming from her. "Oh God Theseus I've missed this," she mewled "all during my workday I was thinking about doing this." She was collapsing onto the desk moaning quietly. They couldn't risk getting caught. Her rump rippled with every thrust going in "I want to fill you up with my cum Leta," he huffed. "Cum in me," she cried out her slender fingers gripping the sides of his desk for dear life as he pulled on her hair. Her breath hitched in harmony with his groaning as he neared climax. His strokes became sloppy yet passionate. She felt his cock pulsing inside of her as cum flowed out of his member. It felt like a spring coiling tightly and then being released to him "Oh fuck yes, Leta" he moaned pulling his member out just in time to allow some of his semen to ooze out of her entrance. He rubbed her left asscheek in advance to giving it a smack.

She turned around with a smile on her face regulating her breathing, breathless from their encounter "Thank you" she breathed "No, thank you" he returned sonorously winking at her. She cupped his cheeks as their kisses rolled over each other.

"Leta Lestrange please report to Torquil Travers's office immediately." Her director didn't sound happy over the intercom. She realized that an hour had passed since entering Theseus's office and she hadn't completed her task. "You best get going" he urged helping his lover throw on her clothes. She noticed her stockings were ripped "I can't go like this!" she was frantic. Her fiance grabbed his wand moving his wrist lightly "Reparo" he commanded mending the rips in her stockings. She grabbed the stack of assignments and cracked open the office door peering out into the hall as she didn't want anyone to see her coming from Theseus's office. It would arouse suspicion within her fellow peers as she was missing for an hour. The coast was clear she hurriedly paced to Travers' office.  She swung open his door and threw herself into the room "you needed me?" she questioned

"There you are, Miss. Lestrange, I see you still haven't completed your task and you were out of everyone's sight for an hour," he muttered clenching his fist. Torquil took note of her disheveled appearance and the musky smell of her sweat "Care to tell me what happened" he growled. Leta gulped holding the remaining assignment folders close to her chest "I had a run in sir." He sat back in his chair and scoffed "A run in? how convenient." he clasped his hands together "Listen, don't embarrass me and don't embarrass yourself Lestrange understood?" he gritted his teeth awaiting her reply. She inhaled and exhaled deeply "Yes Mr. Travers."

[octhewolf]

Found this on Craigslist

Do you want a new BMW but can't afford it? Do you want a Miata but are afraid your friends will question your sexual identity? Well look no further.

The 1996 BMW z3 convertible is the car for you.

Let's talk about features.

Bluetooth: sometimes

HDMI: yes

Sunroof: it's a fucking convertible

Fancy wheels: They've been plasti-dipped... its real classy

AC: yes

Head lights: button has been replaced with Miller Lite cap.

Security: installed with after market alarm system

Cylinders: 4 (whatever the fuck that means)

Rear view camera: nope...but it's got a transparent rear window and you have a fucking neck that can turn

What about Mods you ask?

-This car has a radar detector that can tell you when a police radar is near, it will also alert you every time you drive past a motion sensor activated door, as those also use radar (very useful if you can't find the entrance to the grocery store)... I currently have this lovely feature disabled

- There is a large speaker system in the trunk. I have no idea what it is or how it works but the bass can scare the shit out of your sleeping neighbors at night if you're one of those people

-It's lowered as fuck. I cannot stress the AS FUCK enough. (Im being slightly dramatic it still passed safety)

Things this car is old enough to do:

Vote: yes

Consent to sex: yes

Rent a car: it IS a car

This car's got history. It's seen some shit. People have done straight things in this car. People have done gay things in this car. It's not going to judge you like a fucking Mercedes would

Interesting facts:

This car's rear view window has been fully replaced. The fuckhead who owned this car before me thought it would be prudent to glue in a window that zips in. So when I replaced the window a few months ago I had to meticulously remove every bit of glue from the teeth with an Exacto knife, and sew it back together thread by thread. Don't believe me? (see second picture above) It took 4 and a half hours.

Passenger side trunk area has two small dents that are barely visible. Also from a previous fuckhead owner.

This car's exterior color is black, but it's interior color is black.

In the owner's manual, oil is listed as "optional."

The interior seats are worn but I have some wonderful 20 dollar seat covers that cover them right up!

110,000 miles (give or take)

You wanna know more? Great, I had my car fill out a Facebook survey.

Favorite food: fried chicken

Favorite movie: Batman Begins

Favorite song: tie between Truffle Butter by Nicki Manaj and A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton

This car is as practical as a Tokyo drift style car in a place where no speed limit is above 50mph. It's as low key as those trucks with the 6-inch (I have a small dick) lifts. It's as utilitarian as a member of a church whose scripture is based entirely on water bills.

When I ran the CarFax for this car, I got back a single piece of paper that said, "Fuck off."

Let's face the facts, this car is actually awesome. It's fun to drive, runs great, has been incredibly well maintained (by me at least), has low mileage for the year, and the engine is one of the best ever made by BMW. Stop trying to think of reasons not to buy this car... I listed them all above and you still want it. So stop lying to yourself and stop lying to your wife. This isn't the car you want, it's the car you need: Treat yo self to a fucking 1996 BMW z3.

Is it worth 10 grand? Is it worth 4.4? Only people who actually know shit about cars can tell. Get it. 4,400 OBO

https://honolulu.craigslist.org/oah/cto/d/bmw-z3-for-sale-price/6680160319.html

[xtruss]

Interview with Mary Trump

"Donald Is a Fascist and the Republicans Are Trying To Destroy Our Democracy"

In an interview, Mary Trump, the only niece of the former American president, talks about an uncle she describes as dangerous, his enduring power and the growing hate in America.

— Interview Conducted By Marc Pitzke | 08.25.2021

— SPIEGEL International

Mary Trump: "He's literally the weakest person I've ever known." Foto: Sara Naomi Lewkowicz / DER SPIEGEL; Michael Reynolds / Zuma Press / action press

Mary Trump, Donald Trump's only niece, has just finished a talk show appearance by video chat from her kitchen. She's sitting in the library of her apartment building, trying to relax. The ceiling-high shelves behind her are filled with carefully curated coffee table books. Through the wall of windows, one can see Manhattan's thick traffic below.

Trump, however, seems irritated. "This was the first time I've been treated badly in an interview," she says.

She had just appeared on "The View," a popular morning chat show, where they discussed politics, the pandemic and racism. Yet one co-host checked out of the conversation without even greeting her: Meghan McCain, daughter of the late senator John McCain, who had been reviled and insulted by Donald Trump even as he went to his grave.

The younger McCain is famous – infamous – for her own conservative tirades. After the show with Mary Trump, she tweeted: "There is no 'good' Trump family member to me."

And there it is, Mary Trump's burden: her last name.

She will be forever linked to her uncle, his lies, is hubris, his incompetence, his autocratic tendencies – and the damaging fallout from his one term as president.

Last year, the psychologist published her memoirs: "Too Much and Never Enough." The book revealed the horrific family history of the Trumps – and made her a target of Trump fanatics, who still worship the former president. For months, she hardly left the house – because of COVID-19, but also out of fear of being recognized and vilified.

Now Trump, 56, has written a second book, "The Reckoning: America's Trauma and Finding a Way To Heal." It addresses the darkest period of U.S. history, with the nation's enduring racism, and, of course, her uncle.

DER SPIEGEL: Ms. Trump, last summer you called your uncle the world's most dangerous man. Now that he's out of office, do you still feel that way?

Trump: After the election, I was happy for about a minute. I was very relieved, of course, but the number of people who voted for him was just heartbreaking. Seventy-four million! Yes, Joe Biden won. But the Democrats in general didn't win enough. We needed a total repudiation of Donald and his party, and we didn't get one.

DER SPIEGEL: So, you think he still presents a danger?

Trump: We're not out of the woods. It became clear right after the election that he was going to do everything in his power to undermine the legitimacy of the results and that the Republicans were just going to let him do it. For him, losing is not acceptable and winning doesn't mean legitimately winning, it just means getting the win. He knows he didn't win, but I don't believe he knows he lost, either.

DER SPIEGEL: How so?

Trump: He's been trying for two years to steal this election. I don't believe he can wrap his head around the fact that everything he did, all the stops he pulled out, all the stops the Republican Party pulled out for him, haven't worked. So, he's still trying to steal this election.

DER SPIEGEL: Do you see Jan. 6, when a mob of his supporters stormed the Capitol Building, as such an attempt?

Trump: He is very good at finding people weaker than he is, which is shocking because he's literally the weakest person I've ever known. But they're out there obviously, in large numbers. Then, there are people who are much smarter and powerful than he is, who know how to use him. So, it's a very dangerous combination. Were there people around him who knew that it could very possibly lead to that moment? Absolutely. Was he completely willing and comfortable to take advantage of the situation and make it worse for his benefit? Absolutely.

DER SPIEGEL: Do you think he welcomed what he saw on Jan. 6?

Trump: Oh, my gosh, yeah. It was probably one of the best days of his life. The worse it got, the happier he was. It wasn't an accident when he told the mob that if he wasn't granted the victory, it was Mike Pence's fault. So, should we be surprised that people were running around with nooses wanting to string Mike Pence up? It would have been perfectly fine with him. Absolutely. The only thing he probably regrets about that is that there wasn't more violence.

DER SPIEGEL: What went through your mind that day?

Trump: I hadn't listened to his speech beforehand, because I've tried whenever possible not to listen to him or look at him, because I don't care what he has to say. At first, like everybody else, I found it really hard to know what precisely was going on. It just looked like a mess. The first word that came to mind was tawdry. But then it became obvious to me that it was much worse than that. This is our Capitol! This is the center of – well, I don't like to say American democracy, because I don't think America has ever completely been a democracy like we aspire to be.

DER SPIEGEL: Do you think he will run again in 2024?

Trump: I don't know. But because he's being enabled, he sees an opening. He feels the power. He also knows that the only way he stays out of legal trouble is to get back into power.

DER SPIEGEL: Does it weigh on you to be so personally connected to his world? In your new book you reveal that in 2017, a few months after your uncle's inauguration, you went into inpatient treatment for post traumatic stress disorder. What happened?

Trump: I just remember feeling so out of control. I remember spinning out and didn't know how to stop. I lived in a very Republican town then, so I was really isolated. For the first time in my life, I lost friends because of an election, and I knew I needed to do something. But despite the fact that I'm a psychologist, I didn't know there were treatment programs for that. I knew there were for addictions, but I didn't know there was such a thing for post-traumatic stress.

DER SPIEGEL: Your uncle traumatized half the nation.

Trump: Every once in a while, I think about how this country will be forever stained by what he did. That's really hard. We never recover from that. Maybe in 200 years, but not while I'm alive.

DER SPIEGEL: Don't you think his spell is broken? Joe Biden's policies are pretty popular, and Trump's "Big Lie" hasn't amounted to anything.

Trump: The Democrats don't understand the seriousness of the threat. They are playing by rules in a rulebook that the Republicans lit on fire. There are no rules anymore. They need to start fighting like their lives depend on it. But they're just not willing to do that. There is an unwillingness – also in the U.S. media – to use the kind of language that is accurate and necessary to get people to understand the seriousness of the threat.

DER SPIEGEL: How serious is it?

Trump: Donald is a fascist, and the Republicans are an autocratic, anti-democratic, counter-majoritarian party that would be perfectly happy to establish some kind of apartheid in this country. They are actively trying to destroy our democracy. If they win back the House in 2022, it would be fatal to the American experiment. I wouldn't be surprised if they make Donald, two years before the presidential election, speaker of the house. And then there will never be another Democrat allowed to win an election.

DER SPIEGEL: Do you really believe that?

"The Democrats don't understand the seriousness of the threat. They are playing by rules in a rulebook that the Republicans lit on fire. There are no rules anymore."

Trump: We see it happening already. Last year, there were 155 million presidential votes cast in this country. There have been maybe 36 cases of voter fraud, which is a vanishingly small number. And yet, we've got hundreds of voter suppression laws in place or being pushed by the Republicans. If the Democrats lose the House and/or the Senate in the 2022 midterms, it's over. It is over.

DER SPIEGEL: You don't think the U.S. democracy is resilient?

Trump: The way this country is structured is inherently anti-democratic.

DER SPIEGEL: What do you mean?

Trump: The U.S. Constitution is not a democratic document. For example, we currently have a 50-50 split in the Senate, but the 50 Republican senators represent 40 million less people than the 50 Democratic senators – because the constitution gives every state two senate seats, no matter how populous.

Trump supporters in Washington, D.C. on Jan. 6: "It was probably one of the best days of his life. The worse it got, the happier he was." Foto: Shay Horse / NurPhoto / Getty Images

DER SPIEGEL: In your new book, you write: "The ugly history of our country is filled with sordid, barbaric and inhuman acts committed by average citizens which were encouraged or at least condoned by the highest levels of government. To deny this history means to deny our national trauma." That's a devastating judgement – how did you come to that conclusion?

Trump: If there's one thing Americans are very good at, it's perpetuating myths about ourselves.

DER SPIEGEL: For instance?

Trump: One of the most astonishing things this country got away with was portraying itself as a beacon of democracy during World War II, while at the same time an entire population of people was being held in what was essentially a closed, fascist state in the South. Black Americans who served their country came home only to be lynched because they had the audacity to wear the uniform. Part of that is also that people think that the North were the good guys. But a large percentage of Northerners were really racist, too, and perfectly happy to have Blacks freed, but did not want them to have any political power, so they decided that it was more expedient to make common cause with the former Confederates than with the freed men and women.

DER SPIEGEL: Isn't the way of looking at U.S. history changing rapidly?

Trump: The right is doing everything to make sure that Americans continue to stay ignorant about their own history. Imagine if post-World War II Germany hadn't taken the steps that it has taken.

DER SPIEGEL: Not all Germans back then were too excited about that, either.

Trump: That's a good point. It requires the political will. We let people off the hook for flying the Confederate flag because they claim it's just about their Southern history. But they know what it means. It means that they are completely on board with white people owning black people.

DER SPIEGEL: Is the U.S. still a racist country?

Trump: If you're a white adult American, it's almost impossible not to be racist because of the media environment we grow up in, our families or our friends' families, the influences of our education. But when you become an adult, you need to take responsibility for that stuff. If we don't acknowledge it, then it's never going to change. But it's very hard to acknowledge that.

DER SPIEGEL: How much do you blame your uncle for that?

Trump: I blame him for the fact that it's becoming more and more acceptable to be openly racist. What Donald did was prove that racism is a successful platform when you run for office in this country. People like him are out there very openly being racist and white supremacist, and they're getting tens of millions of people to vote for them because either they agree with them or they don't have a problem with it because lower taxes are more important. We're in a really dangerous place.

"The Republicans are an autocratic, anti-democratic, counter-majoritarian party that would be perfectly happy to establish some kind of apartheid in this country."

DER SPIEGEL: Do you also blame him for the disastrous COVID-19 situation here last year?

Trump: That's been one of the worst things for me to deal with. Knowing that your uncle is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people is not a good feeling. That many died in exactly the same circumstances my father did, alone, because my uncle, who could have gone to the hospital to be with my dad, rather went to the movies. So, that's been really, really hard. Because of his incompetence and his cruelty we're still struggling with this. Because of his encouragement of the unvaccinated and his failure to model decent behavior, which he is incapable of doing. It's just a kick in the teeth.

DER SPIEGEL: Wasn't he one of the first to get vaccinated?

Trump: Secretly! Everybody in the family got vaccinated. They're all vaccinated. Imagine how people are going to react when they find out that they've all been betrayed and the people they put their faith in lied to them for political expediency.

DER SPIEGEL: Psychologically, how do you get people to admit they've lived a lie for so long?

Trump: It's hard. I don't hold out hope for most of these people. I really don't.

DER SPIEGEL: That sounds rather pessimistic.

Trump: I am bizarrely a quite optimistic person. Maybe that took a hit over the last couple of years. But I am pretty much an optimist. I haven't given up hope.

DER SPIEGEL: Yet the next Trump generation seems ready. Do you expect your cousin, Donald Jr., or your cousin Ivanka, to run for political office?

Trump: No.

DER SPIEGEL: Why not?

Trump: My uncle is such a buffoon, but he does have charisma. If you met him, for the first 10 seconds you would see it. After that, you would realize that he's a total psychopath, but a lot of people are very susceptible to his kind of charisma. Donald Jr. and Ivanka don't have any of that. They don't survive politically without him. They don't survive in business without him. No, I don't see that. Hopefully, they'll all end up in jail.

DER SPIEGEL: What's next for you?

Trump: My next book will not be about my uncle. I'm taking a break. Never write a book about trauma while you're still being actively traumatized.

DER SPIEGEL: Ms. Trump, we thank you for this interview.

— Mary Trump's latest book, "The Reckoning: Our Nation's Trauma and Finding a Way To Heal," was published in August by St. Martin's Press. The book has also been published in German translation by Heyne Verlag.

— Mary Trump, 56, holds a doctorate in psychology and has known the former president since childhood. Her father Fred Trump, Jr., Donald Trump's older brother, died in 1981. Her first book, "Too Much and Never Enough," about her uncle became a bestseller in the United States in 2020.

[skys813]

Discovery

Chapter 5 (Arc Finale)

Me: Before we start, is there anything you'd like to say, Anxiety?

Anxiety: *gives me a hard look and then looks away* No.

Me: I see. Let's begin, then. Over the past couple of weeks we've been struggling to deal with a new possibility. I'm aware that in every happy reality Research conjured for us we were in a romantic relationship with implied sexual undertones. The new possibility suggests that we don't find a romantic or sexual partner in the future. Up until now it's only been a vague suggestion, however, after further examination, I thought it would be best to bring it to the council's attention as a legitimate possible plan for the future.

Anxiety: I don't see why this is relevant given that Sexuality is obviously a lesbian. Haven't we been over this already?

Me: Actually, we haven't. That was a suggestion you made, not a fact of life. Which brings us to our first issue; determining Sexuality's true orientation. I'd like to bring some memories to the front if you don't mind. Let's start with a few questions I asked after I first learned what sex was. "Do I have to? Can I be married without doing it? Can I have kids without doing it?" Our first reaction was aversion. Of course, that's normal at the beginning, but those feelings never went away. Instead, it changed to reluctant acceptance that this is what would happen to us. The truth is that we never felt sexual attraction towards anyone, regardless of their gender. We knew instinctively we wouldn't like sex in any form, but we pushed the feeling down and convinced ourselves that it'd be fine and we'd just have to do this for love.

Love: Is that not true? The only lifelong bond that allows us to be as invested and dedicated as we wish to be is a romantic one. Friendship can be strong, but it's not the same, Sky. We would not be prioritized the same way, you can't expect that of someone. If they have a romantic relationship with someone else, they have to prioritize that person above you, regardless of how close you get. Only a romantic bond guarantees you that level of trust and faith in each other. The exclusivity.

Me: I understand and accept that we wouldn't always be prioritized above the person's romantic relationship, but the rest is simply not true. It's possible. Research, if you'd be a dear, and pull up the definitions of a Queerplatonic Relationship and a Zucchini.

Research: A Queerplatonic relationship is defined as "a committed relationship that is neither romantic nor sexual in nature but is based on an emotional bond beyond friendship, often between aromantic and/or asexual people" (AVEN, General FAQ, Definitions). "A zucchini is a partner in a queerplatonic relationship. The commitment level between partners is often considered to be similar to that of a romantic relationship, but with platonic love. Zucchinis may be of any romantic or sexual orientation" (AVENwiki).

Me: Thank you, darling. As you can see, it's entirely possible. In fact, it's so possible and has been felt and established by enough people that there are terms to describe the relationship we want. That's what we were looking for all these years, not some romantic relationship, much less a sexual one.

Anxiety: I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you've only proven sexuality is ace. Romance has been on board waiting for Prince to show up since day one. And we already agreed that Sexuality's orientation would be irrelevant to us in such a scenario as we would want him to be fully satisfied in the relationship.

Me: Romance hasn't actually been very vocal about her desires, she's been going along with whatever you and Research determined would be the best scenario. Again, let's pull up some memory files. First, there was her "crush," which she picked out for us much like one would pick out fruit at a stand, and is also a shared experience among other aromantics. We were never jealous of his relationship with our best friend or hurt by it, but instead helped them with arguments and were happy for them when they were happy. She shies away from any possible romantic partners under the guise of obeying our parents and religion when we all know full well we're stubborn and reckless enough that if we had ever desired such a relationship we would've acted on it by now. But we haven't.

Anxiety: Because no one has been worth the risk! We just haven't had the chance to meet the right person and it was never the right time before. We were too young.

Me: No one? When was the last time you saw Romance actually consider anyone as a potential partner?

Anxiety: That's because we're waiting for Prince, no one else is worth considering.

Me: That makes no sense and you know it. We can't find him if we never look. And Romance isn't interested enough to look in the first place. The fact of the matter is that she hasn't been active since we finally settled comfortably in our relationship. We might not use fancy terminology, but that's the nature of the bond we established with our best friend. The meaning we agreed upon for the relationship is the same as the one listed for queerplatonic relationships.

Anxiety: It's just too risky, it's irresponsible to put all your eggs in one basket like that. Friendships are fragile and fleeting-

Me: So is every other relationship. Friendships are not less than other bonds, they're equal and valid and they are what you make them. I believe in this one.

Anxiety: Fine. Don't listen to reason, whatever. But you might want to consider Love's needs and that certain aspects of our dreams would be off the table right off the bat if we went along with this madness, such as children and the home life we were so desperate to create one day. That's a dream you can't deny. You can't adopt children in a platonic relationship, so unless you plan on being a hypocrite and going out to have sex, praying not to catch an STD, and hoping to get pregnant that way, children would be completely off the table for us.

Me: First of all, it wouldn't be hypocritical, asexual people can have sex. But I do agree that that option is extremely unappealing all around. However, it wouldn't be as big a deal as you're making it out to be. Our motherly instincts can still be fulfilled if we add the found family element; we'd build a group of friends and mother them just like we used to. Love, how do you feel about that?

Love: I want children. We've always wanted children, I can't let go of that dream overnight. Mothering some friends isn't the same, I don't know if it'll be enough. I can agree to build new visions and scrap the old ones and incorporate Sexuality and Romance's identities, but you can't ever expect me to stop wanting children. I'm sorry.

Me: Don't be, it's who you are. Thank you for being so understanding. Research, what do you think?

Research: To be absolutely frank with you, I'm glad this is who we are. No husband to tie us down, fewer responsibilities, financial independence. It spells out a lot of opportunities to explore the world that we might not have had otherwise. And, no offense, Love, but children are expensive as hell. Our horizons just quadrupled without that financial and emotional burden. I vote yes.

*an awkward pause where Anxiety fumes on the side and refuses to say anything*

Me: .......Anxiety?

Anxiety: I'm the one who played the dreams. Are you happy now? You were right all along, and I was wrong. We're aro ace.

Me: I know.

Anxiety: *head snaps up* What?! You knew? How? And how long have you known? Why didn't you say anything?

Me: I think the meeting's done now, let's continue this privately. Love, Research, please act according to the council's decision and inform everyone of the verdict. Thank you. Anxiety, walk with me, darling.

Then.....

Sexuality blinks sleepy eyes open and looks around. Someone is by her bedside that she's only ever seen from afar. She tentatively lifts her hand and runs her fingers through Libido's hair. Her birthmate. What was she doing here? Libido stirs and murmurs something incoherent in her sleep before slowly opening her eyes to look back at Sexuality. Libido smiles softly.

Libido: You're finally awake. *jerks up frantically* Oh shit, you're awake! Oh my God, how're you feeling? Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Who do you want me to get for you? Do you want some water? Of course you want some water, what am I thinking-

Sexuality grabs Libido's sleeve as she makes to get up. Libido looks back, concerned and on the verge of panic. Sexuality shakes her head and tugs Libido back to her side.

Libido: Are you sure you don't want me to get you some food and water? You've been out of it for a while.

Sexuality shakes her head again and tugs Libido back down into her chair.

Libido: Okay, then. Um. Let's see, how do you usually communicate with Romance?

Sexuality: *gestures in sign language*

Libido: Oh, yeah, that makes sense. I don't know any signs though. Do you want me to get Research? They might be able to translate. Actually, they'll know what to do about all of this and what you need and-

Sexuality grabs and squeezes Libido's hand and she falls silent. Sexuality smiles briefly and shuts her eyes.

Libido: Oh. You're tired, yeah, that makes sense, too. Sorry about all that. Go back to sleep, sweetie. I'll notify the others when you're ready.

It was a while later before Libido realized that Sexuality had been fully aware and responsive during those few minutes without throwing up. On top of that, she'd made contact with Libido without any noticeable harm befalling her. Sexuality was, at long last, fully recovered.

Meanwhile.....

I walk with Anxiety down to his room. It resembles a library, but instead of books, there are notebooks, each and every one of them filled to the brim with scribbles and half-finished thoughts.

Anxiety: Welcome to my lair, oh annoying one. Have a seat.

Me: I think we need to discuss why you're so against us being aro ace.

Anxiety: I already made it very clear-

Me: The real reason, Anxiety.

Anxiety glowers at me for a few minutes. I don't look away and he finally backs down grudgingly.

Anxiety: *sigh* Do you remember what we were like when we were a kid? What we thought of ourself?

Me: How can I forget? I was the brattiest, most arrogant child I've ever had the displeasure of having to think about.

Anxiety: *shakes his head* I mean before Prince, specifically. We were in a low place and we had accepted that we would die old, bitter, and alone. I just don't want us to go back to that again. It was devastating enough the first time around for all of us. At least like this, it would've only hurt Sexuality and Romance.

Me: Anxiety, listen to me. We are not who we were five years ago. That vision of the future was built on self-hatred and hopelessness, that's why it looked like a doomsday vision. This time we're rebuilding to take care of ourself and every aspect of who we are. We don't have to sacrifice Sexuality and Romance to be happy. We can just build a future that makes all of us happy by accommodating them too. We would've never been happy if we'd tried to suppress them.

Anxiety: *shakes his head stubbornly* We can revert right back to where we were, not enough has changed, not nearly enough. I've just collected more reasons to hate ourself since then, there's no guarantee it won't happen.

Me: *eyes sharp, trying to casually scan the notebooks* There is one thing we could always do..... If you'd allow us, I mean.

Anxiety: *torn between hope and trepidation* Like what exactly?

Me: Burn them.

Anxiety: *stands up and positions himself between me and the nearest shelf* Get out. Get out right now!

Me: *stays seated calmly with my eyes fixed on his* Only the notebooks where you write all our faults. The memories would all stay intact. All your other notebooks would stay exactly where they are. I'm only suggesting we let go of the guilt. Those notebooks are as old as I am, cataloging every tiny mistake we've ever made, every embarrassing thing we've ever done, every regret. You're absolutely right, we can't move forward until we've let go of all of that. We have to move forward, Anxiety. The council has come to a decision. Something has to give or we really might revert back to what we were before.

Anxiety: Then we would've learned nothing! Do you want to repeat all the mistakes we've made?

Me: A gentle reminder that you're the reason we made some of the more serious mistakes.

Anxiety: Don't you think I know that? That's why I refuse to let go of them. If we never forget, if we never stop regretting them and feeling guilty for them, then we'll make up for it and we'll never do those things again.

Me: Darling, that's ridiculous. You do realize that you've written down things as small as chopping the wrong vegetable by accident at our job, right? And the serious errors in judgment are almost all from our childhood, from years ago. We've grown, we've changed, and we're past that now. We can't stay this way forever, hating ourselves for every tiny inconvenience we've ever caused anyone. Please, Anxiety, we have to burn those notebooks.

Anxiety: No. You don't understand. We can't! No! *clutches at his head and his breathing becomes shallow and rapid* I can't. You can't. I can't.

Me: Anxiety? *gets up slowly* Are you okay?

Anxiety: No! We can't! We'll never be good enough. We'll never be happy. You can't erase the past. We're horrible, can't you see that? So horrible. Horrible. Horrible!

I notice a smoky shape formed behind Anxiety, whispering in his ear and grinning at me. The time for conversation is over. I carefully sidestep Anxiety who is too wrapped up in his sobbing to notice my movement and try to punch at the shadow. My hand goes right through it. Right, then. Those notebooks need to burn. Now. I step behind them slowly. The creature turns to watch me but continues whispering to Anxiety. I reach for a random notebook to test out the waters. No reaction besides a widening smirk. Good. I quickly scan through the notebooks until I find the section I need before looking up again. The shadow is still, watching me with a contemplative frown while Anxiety drops to hug his knees and hide his face as he cries. I collect the notebooks loosely in my arms, carefully noting how tense the shadow is getting. It stands between me and the door. I had a feeling it would find a way to stop me if it wanted to, smoke or not. I edge my way back to the table and set the notebooks down. The creature relaxes. I sit down and pretended to start reading one. After a few moments, it loses interest in me and goes back to tormenting Anxiety. It starts to whisper faster, progressively more aggressive. When it looks to be distracted enough, I grab the notebooks and run. I hear a shriek of anger not long after but it doesn't follow me. I run and run until I reach the common room and dump the notebooks on the floor.

Me: Research, get over here! I need lighter fuel! Love, if you could grab a lighter for me, that'd be great! Now!

They get up from the couch without a word and go about getting the requested items as I start tearing the notebooks apart. By the time they get back, I've torn haphazardly through the notebooks and stacked them in a hollow pyramid shape. Research douses them all and I give Love a handful of paper to light before I carefully place them under the rest and watch the fire spread. Anxiety rushes into the room with a much-faded version of the shadow I'd seen behind him, but by then even the topmost of the pyramid had caught fire. The creature shrieks and Anxiety faints into Research's arms.

Research: *sighs* I should've known something like this would happen. I'll take him to the infirmary.

Love: What just happened? Who's Research taking to the infirmary and what did we just set on fire?

Me: Don't worry, Love, everything's going to be okay now. C'mon, let's sit down and I'll tell you everything.

Then.....

Romance jerks awake gasping and clutching at her neck and chest and starts coughing. Sensuality rushes into her room and gives her a crushing hug.

Sensuality: You're alive! You're awake! Oh thank God, I won't be left with just Aesthetic for company!

Aesthetic: Hey! I can hear you, you know. And good grief, get off her before you really kill her. Welcome back, Romance. How're you feeling?

Romance: *gestures for water*

Sensuality: I got you, just a second. *runs out of the room*

Aesthetic: *hands Romance her board and marker* Figured you'd have a lot to say after being out of it for so long. Wanna elaborate on the whole "help Anxiety" message you left? Cause it really didn't help, for the record. What'd you want us to do, tie you and Sexuality up and dump you in the basement for him?

Romance rolls her eyes as Sensuality comes back in and accepts a glass of water with a quick nod of thanks. She downs the whole glass in three giant gulps and sets it down before relaxing back against her pillows a bit. She starts writing.

You're both idiots, for the record. I bet you didn't even try to figure out what I meant, just sat around worrying as usual. It's alright, someone must've figured it out since I'm awake now. We'll all hear the story in detail, I'm sure. Right now, though, I'd much rather discuss Sexuality. Is she okay?

Sensuality: Well......I mean, she's definitely safe now, we made sure of it, right Aesthetic?

Aesthetic: *nods her head with a smile* Don't worry, Romance, we took care of our little sister. She's safe.

Romance: *relaxes a bit more*

Good. At least you did something right. Who's guarding her? Libido, right?

Sensuality: *shocked* Yeah, actually, how'd you know? I thought you'd be upset.

Romance: *smiles* *writes*

They were never meant to be apart. They're different, but they're still birthmates. You know how strong that bond is. They'll figure it out. They just need time. We all do.