#so you must’ve been saying to yourself: whats the point of saving whats doomed to fail?

[writer-akihiko]

so mc running away i love it the angst 👌 so if its alright can you the same but with the dorm leaders?(pls do a good ending my poor heart cannot take it-༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Dorm Leaders + MC Running Away

So I apologise for the lack of happy endings, if you want to call it that. The scenarios turned out much more different than the First Years probably because of the power gap I had in mind. Also, for anyone wondering, the Vice Dorm Leaders will have a shot of saving you next! When I get to it... Cut for length. Also please help to share because I limited the tags!

Warnings: Character Death [Not you or the main boy], mentions of abuse and emotional manipulation [On the Reader] and violent actions [The Dorm Leaders]

"I'm not going back."

"Wh... What?" He was astonished. "YN... I've looked far and wide for you- please-"

No words left his mouth as you stepped away from him, tears in your eyes and you were going to make a run for it again.

Malleus Draconia

Your words struck a chord in him. He didn't mean it, but when you said that you weren't going back, he almost lost control. What did you mean you weren't going back? You promised him to be his Queen!

No... he's not accepting this. His Queen deserved better. His larger hands encircled your wrists, stopping you in your tracks. No matter how much you tugged and pushed, Malleus' strength was beyond you. In your sole despair, you fell in his embrace.

Every ache and injury struck your core, as you cried your heart out. "I can't go back Malleus," you whimpered. "I... I'm sorry."

Your hands gripped tighter onto his clothes. "I don't mean to fight against you, I-"

The Fae Prince sealed your bruised lips with his own, pulling your smaller form into his lap as he took in the moment of the bittersweet, longing kiss. "YN... listen to me," He said, his own ice cold tears falling onto your cheek, healing your wounds. "You never have to apologise for your suffering. Not even to me."

Malleus held you close as you drowsed off. The gentle smile hardened into a growl, as his back arched, black wings bursting out of his body. Malleus, in his dragon form, summoned the thorns to protect you, holding you as if you were his personal dragon hoard…

The principal, or more accurately the culprit, Dire Crowley was a fool to step out. It disgusted Malleus to his very core, his claws setting the very ground on fire as Crowley stepped closer. No words were exchanged between them. For all the suffering you faced, it was to be paid in tenfold as the dragon took a deep breath, releasing the fire in his chest.

"It was a fraction of her suffering…"

Riddle Rosehearts

He was ballistic. Riddle had been eager to bring you back immediately, but the sheer refusal and attempt to run away made him think that you hate him. He was blaming himself, sobbing to the ground.

Riddle's breakdown made you stop. No matter what you did, you still love him. Riddle's hiccups of sobbing paused at the feeling of your arms wrap around him. He wanted this, he wanted your warmth, he wanted- no… he needed you so badly he'd ceased to function without you.

"I don't hate you Riddle," You said, kissing his tears away. Your pretty Queen of Hearts had ruined the uniform he so proudly kept up with and Riddle himself was unkempt. Riddle cradled your sore body, letting you tell him your stresses and your breaking point abused over and over again by Crowley.

Riddle's heart softened ever so much for you, as he realised that he was to a fault as well. It was then he started to cry for you. "YN… I… I lost control. I know I can't be forgiven for the stress you went through so-"

"Rosehearts! You found her, how wonderful!" The jovial Principal cried out. In his hand was a magic tracking spell and that's when Riddle was struck with guilt once more. He doomed you, again. He… no, he refuses to end it this way.

Your loving self became meek, frightened by the aspect of being under Crowley's care once more. You trembled, reaching out to the hem of Riddle's coat. "Riddle… Please don't let them take me…"

He pulled you up, whispering to you. "When I cast my magic, run YN."

"Ridd-"

"Never thought you'd defy me, Rosehearts. Being a law abider and all~"

"Off With Your Head."

Kalim Al-Asim

"Y-YN?"

Kalim desperately hung onto your ankle, on his knees, begging and bargaining you to stay.

"YN… Please don't leave me again," He begged. "I'll… I'll stop dragging you to parties! I'll get you anything you want just please… please come back to me."

His tears wet your foot, as his grip left light marks on your ankle. Kalim never meant to harm you. He was so desperate to make you stay, but in his heart, he knew that he didn't have the strength to keep you with him if you desired to leave.

"How could you think that?!" You cried out. You stooped to Kalim's level, tackling him in hug so hard that he crashes to the ground. "I… I'd never leave you if I had the choice! I couldn't stand NRC anymore…"

You sobbed into Kalim's chest, wondering when it'd all end. You could never refuse Kalim, but what about everyone else? What about Crowley? Your spine shivered at the monster's name, wanting everything to disappear except for you and Kalim.

Kalim didn't know what to do. He didn't understand why Crowley would do such a thing to you. If Crowley was causing you such pain… He'd just have to get rid of the problem. You only deserve the best, after all. It's not his fault, nor is it yours.

You had cried yourself to utter exhaustion. Kalim gently wrapped you up in his jacket, cradling you to his chest. As if clockwork, Crowley appeared to the heartwarming scene, simply glad that you were going to be returned.

"Al-Asim, Dire should patch her up nicely-"

"No."

Crowley coughed. "What was that?"

"I said no," Kalim reiterated. "I have no reason to listen to you…"

"Since YN and I aren't your students anymore."

Azul Ashengrotto

How grateful he was to find you near the water. He almost turned red at the thought of you willing to search for him. Azul never thought you'd long for him this way, but you knew him, and you knew him well.

As if on cue, you looked beyond the trees to see your beloved, running from the sandy shores barefoot to be caught by your precious Azul. Azul doesn't have the best reflexes, trying to catch you without hurting you.

Azul took one good look at you, and the sight was enough to make him cry. Messy hair, cuts and bruises littering your skin possibly from running through the rocky forest, feet with sores from rocks… and tearful, sorrowful eyes.

Not an inch of sadness deserved to touch you. That was one of his core beliefs. He didn't say anything to prompt you to tell about what you'd been suffering. He knew. He knew every line of the story, and it made him ever so guilty that it led to this. If he just paid more attention to you, or at least try to.

Azul offered you everything. An ear to listen and his body for comfort, with his arms wrapping about you. If the simple action was enough for your forgiveness, he'd do it over and over again.

It was for a moment Azul held you, before running the water with you in tow. From the forest emerged the tweels, but what was behind you made you scream. Crowley, with his magic, retaliating against the twins' magic.

Azul wrapped you around his tentacles, drifting further into the ocean with you. He bent down to whisper in your ear. "YN, close your eyes. Don't look."

You shut your eyes tight as you did, hiding yourself in Azul's chest, away from the scene.

"May we never see you again, Crowley."

Azul and the twins in their merforms plummet into the ocean, deep down where Crowley would never come to touch you.

Idia Shroud

He wasn't surprised that the huge robot scared you. It was his secret project after all. He immediately let himself out of the robot, but he was hesitant to step into the forest. Idia was scared, but he still had to protect you!

"Y-YN..."

"Idia!..."

You stopped running, seeing your boyfriend pop out of the robot. Idia was quick to get over his reluctance as his panic shifts to your injuries instead. He wanted to cry out of joy from the mere chance of finding you.

Idia tried to treat your wounds as best as he could with the emergency kit conveniently equipped [he really did think of everything] although his wrapping technique was unkempt at best.

Idia's attempts to heal you made you forget of all the suffering. You couldn't help but laugh, realising how much you missed Idia. He knew that you needed this time. Oh, how he wanted to whisk you away...

But he might as well. You're his, right?

Crowley didn't get close to reaching you. Idia thought of it all. He tracked every move the principal made, fooling Crowley to think that Idia was with you the entire time, with the tracking device that Crowley so faithfully gave him.

"How desperate... it's honestly funny..." Idia scoffed at the idea of Crowley getting to you.

With the S.T.Y.X androids, Idia confronted Crowley, who was in sheer confusion.

"Crowley… burn in hell."

Leona Kingscholar

Leona didn't hold back. He couldn't believe you would say such a thign to him… The only conclusion he reached to was that you hated him. You hated his very core, just like everyone else… He was scared. It frightened him to the core that after everything he did, you still hated him.

"YN… stop fucking around with me," He said, grabbing onto your wrist. He wasn't about to throw a tantrum then and there. He had to get things straight. "Hey… tell me. Was I just a waste for you?"

"W-What are you talking about Leona?" You pushed against his chest, trying to get some distance but Leona was way stronger than you. The lion couldn't listen to reason. He simply went on about how you must've hated him, and how much you despised him.

"Did I mean nothing to you, YN?" Leona was shaking, his shoulders trembling from the mere thought of hearing those words.

You wrapped your arms around Leona, pulling him in close. "I never did… How dare you think that you stupid lion?!" You said, sobbing your heart out. You were equally hurt, but you never once thought Leona would think such a thing.

The emotional reunion was interrupted by the principal himself, pretending to be moved by such a scene. The false pretense of safety caught on to you, and you were sent into a panic, clinging onto Leona for fear of your life.

"I hate you!" You yelled, your body crumpling to the ground just as Leona caught you. "I hate you, I hate you. I don't want to go back, don't make me!"

If you were to scream anymore, you might collapse from exhaustion. Leona was quick to carry you in his arms, holding you close to his chest, where you were comforted by his heartbeat.

"Hoi, good for nothing principal," Leona called out, a single claw drawn out, igniting his Unique Magic.

"Move before I turn you to sand."

Vil Schoenheit

He was stunned to see you in such a state. He called out for you, and you stopped in your tracks. Was he that incompetent that he can't keep you with him? Did he not treat you right? Was his mere presence just torture for you?

Vil couldn't keep it in anymore. He needed to know. "YN… why won't you come back? Tell me, is it my fault? Am I not worthy of you?!"

The once prideful queen fell into shambles of insecurity as his mind won't stop painting images of you walking away from him, of you calling him your doom, of him being your captor… No, he didn't mean it…

"Was I the villain in your story?! WAS I?!"

Vil had never cried as much as he did. He needed to know that you didn't of him as a nuisance. He really was worthless if he made you feel unwanted… so please, he needed an answer.

"How could you think that, my love?"

You stooped to Vil's level, brushing away the tears that ruined his makeup with your very hands. Oh, your poor Vil… You were too selfish, thinking of your own suffering. With Vil in your arms, you felt whole once again. You gave Vil your actual answer, relenting every moment of your stress that stemmed from Crowley.

Oh… how his sweet potato must've suffered. Vil had a stuck of guilt, considering that he was under an Overblot as well. No matter, he had to make things right. For your sake, for his love's sake.

"YN, Crowley is trying to find you. But I… I have to set things right," He said, pulling you up.

The rustle of leaves had you on guard as from it came Dire Crowley, revelling in the scene.

"Schoenheit. You are supposed to bring LN YN to me immediately as I ordered."

Vil for once scared you. It scared you how enraged he was, and your heart wrenched at seeing the ink droplets by his hand.

"Vil, don't you dare-"

He turned back to you, whispering for you to run to Rook's safety. "Don't cry, my love."

You tried to hold the tears once again as you saw Vil shifting forms to an ink-like mess, this time his rage directed at Crowley. You could only run away, praying in your heart that Vil was safe.

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 3:

“Okay, so that’s about it.” You smile brightly, pressing a band-aid into the  boy’s skin. “Thanks for being so brave for me!”

“Mhm. I’m the bravest!”

The child before you beams, all teeth gaps and kicking legs as he bounces in his seat. You’d just given him a few routine vaccinations, and true to your praise, he had been very brave about it. All he’d done was sit there, holding his breath until his face went red, and trying not to grimace. It reminded you of someone else you’d recently treated- someone else who was currently blazoned in all his snarling glory on the little boy’s shirt.

“Oh, I’m sure! Just like Dynamite!” You agree enthusiastically, gesturing to his clothes. You turn your head, catching his mother’s eye from where she sits next to him. “Isn’t that right, mom?”

“Oh, not if I can help it.” She smiles something a little exhausted, but ultimately fond as her son starts making explosion noises. “Not if I can help it.”

If you’re being completely honest, you sort of agree with her. Just a little bit- actually, on second thought a lot.

“If that’s everything and you have no other concerns for me, then we’re about done here.” You say gently. “Do you know where you’re going? I can point you toward reception again if you need it.”

“No, we’re alright, thank you!” 

You nod, holding the door open for them as they leave. 

When the door closes, and you’re swept back up into silence, you can’t help but think of that interaction as just more proof- more proof that no matter where you were, no matter what you were doing, you absolutely could not escape Bakugou.

When you weren’t actively thinking about him, then you were seeing his face everywhere. He was on television, and he was on the cover of newspapers, and as evidenced, he was printed in perfect grumbling, snarling accuracy on children’s t-shirts. It didn’t help either that every day brought another civilian who was saved by him, and every night brought another small-time criminal who was beat to hell by his fists. You swore he was responsible for a solid 70% of all of your hospital’s traffic- it was pure insanity when you really started paying attention. 

You quickly come to realize that Bakugou is a plague; and a horrifyingly effective one at that. You’re not sure how you never noticed it before. 

Still, you can’t help but find yourself worrying a little bit. When you think of him, all you can see is his face covered in blood, the pallid hue of his skin under the hospital’s sterile lighting, and the deep-set bags under his eyes. You remember the way he practically fell asleep, laid out and injured on a hospital table. The way he was drifting while you were digging a needle and thread through his skin. 

Thinking back on it always makes you a bit sick. No one who wasn’t absolutely exhausted would ever fall asleep in a hospital- especially not in the middle of being sewn up. When you match that to the anger and terror you’d felt, that very first night you’d ever met him, it doesn’t paint a pretty picture. You come to realize that even if Bakugou was an asshole to you, you still wouldn’t wish that kind of mental torture on anybody. 

Your rest of your week goes by quickly after that, and by the time Saturday rolls around, you’ve gathered quite a few bones to pick with him. It seemed the amount of criminals you were patching up was only increasing, and their injuries were only getting worse too. Each passing day only brings more lowly criminals and thieves flooding into your hospital, all covered in the same scorch marks, broken bones, and dark bruising. It was overkill, plain and simple, and you knew exactly who the culprit was. 

You began to think that, even if it was Bakugou’s job, he really shouldn’t have been digging graves for people who were just stealing purses. There was a massive difference between a super villain and a petty thief, but he didn’t seem to understand that. Dynamite punished everybody just the same. You saw that first hand.

Still, you try to shake off those lingering frustrations. You were on your way to take out his stitches, and you didn’t want to accidently bring them up. Bakugou only mildly tolerated you the last time around, but you were sure that generosity would cease the moment you criticized anything about him. True to his quirk, Bakugou had proven himself to be a teetering powder keg- just a little bit of friction, and he’d explode on the spot.

“On your way to help his majesty?” Your superior remarks, smiling sardonically as you pass her. “Good luck, I’ll be praying for you! Try your best to come back with your head still intact, yeah?” 

You nod, smiling uneasily, but your stomach turns a little bit. 

That had been another reoccurring theme that week- jokes about how your impending doom was imminent. Apparently, Bakugou had been making a name for himself for years now- a name that was a lot less loved by your hospital then it was the rest of the outside world. You’d been hearing horror stories for days now; tale after twisted tale of nurses and doctors getting chewed up and spit out by his bad temper. It always read as a little strange to you though; in every story you’d heard, he was either hardly injured or on his death bed- no in-between whatsoever. You figure that it didn’t really matter though, the result was always the same. Relentless, explosive anger. 

Which you sort of begun to think you were in for, when you opened the door to his scowling face.

“Hey!” You greet unsurely, trying to walk into the room with a confidence you didn’t really feel. Moving past him, you rinse your hands, drying them and then slipping on a pair of latex gloves. You then pull the medical cart over to him, taking out the blood pressure cuff. Just like his last visit. “You ready to get those stitches removed?”

“Yeah. Obviously. Why the fuck else would I waste my time here? Witch.”

Yep. There it is- just what the other nurses and staff were warning you about. His attitude.

“Oh. Okay, so I see we are still using that nickname. Great.” You mutter wrapping the cuff around his arm. You fall back, crossing your arms as you wait to jot down his vitals. There’s angry tension rolling off of him, and you smile uneasily, trying to discharge it with a subject change. “On an entirely different note, though, I did want to congratulate you.”

Bakugou just scoffs, turning up his nose. A beat passes and then he folds, minutely nodding at you to continue.

“You’re not covered in any blood this time! Congrats!” You say breezily, unwrapping the cuff from around his arm. “Guess the third time really is the charm for us, huh?”

Bakugou just looks away, hardly even acknowledging you as he rolls his eyes. You think you see his lip twitch though- just a bit, and it only lasts half a second, but you count it as a success.

“So, any worries about the stitches? You been cleaning them as instructed?” You ask, gently taking his forearm in your hands. You remove the bandages and gauze with feather-light touches. “Wow, you must’ve been. They look pretty good to me.”

When you look up at him, he’s got that same prideful smirk you’d seen before; it doesn’t distract you from his condition though. His skin somehow looks paler than before, skin purple and darkened under his eyes. You see the cut on his head, still hardly healed and scabbed over. He’s overworking himself, but you didn’t need to have any medical background to see that.

“Obviously they look good. You think I’m fuckin’ stupid?” He says.

“No, but I really did think you would’ve exacerbated them by now. Especially with all the hero work you’ve been doing. Which, believe me, I know is a lot.”

“What- you stalking me now or somethin’?”

“Not exactly. Me or somebody else here always end up treating all those people you save.” You tell him, setting his arm down on the empty surface of the medical cart. You try to keep your voice light, keep it entirely void of anything accusatory, but you can’t help your next words. “And every person you beat into the ground.”

Bakugou’s eye twitches when you look at him. He breathes deep, eyebrows creasing.

“Oi- somethin’ you wanna fuckin’ say to me?” He utters, eyes glinting like blistering wildfire. He leans forward, flipping his palm up towards you as it begins to crackle. “Better choose your next words real fuckin’ carefully.”

It’s his tone that catches you off-guard.

You knew it was a stupid move, your comment, but the pure poison in his response surprises you anyway. His voice is dark and angry, smoldering like a low heat as he stares you down. The words are vicious thing, a gripping threat that drips from his mouth, seeming to bite back around his teeth as he speaks it. It makes you shrink. You think that it would probably make even the strongest people shrink.

“No. It’s- I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” You apologize professionally, pasting on your best appeasing smile even as you fight off the anxiety. There’s nothing left to do but try to defuse the situation- so you turn away from him, busying yourself with grabbing a discard tray and your stitching kit. “It’s really wasn’t my business. Shouldn’t have said anything. Sorry.”

Bakugou just huffs at that, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. He somehow looks even more annoyed than before and you don’t know what he wants from you. Doesn’t he know how intimidating he is? Why does he even bother acting surprised when people fold for him? Especially if he chooses to address them like that?

You wish you were the sort of person who could stand up to him- the sort of person who could put him in his place. After all, there was no room for arrogance in a hospital, and you’d always thought egotism to be a selfish waste of valuable time. But, even so, you just couldn’t be that person this time. There was a lot you could power though, but you’d never seen hot-and-cold anger like his before. He wasn’t like any of your other difficult patients- none of their threats ever sounded like promises. 

There’s tense silence as you start removing the stitches, only the sound of your scissors and Bakugou’s own breaths. You try to keep your hands steady, try to keep focused, but you’re finding it hard to keep still under his intense gaze. You feel he’s looking right through you again, waiting for any excuse to blow up again.

You’re almost done removing them entirely when he huffs, rolling his eyes as he shifts uncomfortably.

“You’re so fucking sensitive, you know. It’s pathetic.”

You stiffen.

There’s a lot you’re willing to put up with- being underappreciated and overworked was pretty much your entire job after all- but Bakugou was really wearing on you. He wasn’t the first patient to insult you, and his comment was far from the worst thing you’d ever been told; but it’s something in the way he spits the insult. Sly and challenging like he knows something you don’t. It makes you look up at him, and all you see are his sharp canines. His smirk and the way he looks down on you.

He’s picking a fight, but there’s no threat. He’s testing you.

It makes your blood boil.

“If you don’t like me, and the way I do my work,” You bite out, staring right back and speaking through own clenched teeth. “Then you shouldn’t have asked for me. No one made you come back.”

“I told you, witch. No cutting corners. You put the fuckers in my arm, you take them the fuck out.”

“Why are you fighting with me?” You ask, swallowing as you try not to shy away from his glare. “I told you last time, if this works better for you silent, then just say that.”

He flares his nostrils at that, setting his jaw. When he goes silent, you go back to snipping away his stitches. At this point, you just wanted to finish as quickly as possible.

“Silent is fuckin’ boring.” He grits, flexing his fingers. It makes the skin on his forearm shift, throwing off your work. When you look at him in frustration, you can see he did it on purpose. “It’s wimp shit.”

“Pardon?”

“I said-” He leans in close, voice low and venomous. It feels like he’s trying to paralyze you with his stare alone, sitting up straight until he’s glaring down at you. “Silence is boring. You’re fucking boring.”

You’d had a long day- you’d had a very long day and he was being extremely rude and your patience was wearing thin hours ago. That’s why you let him break your careful composure- at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“Oh yeah, I’m boring?” You ask in frustration, entire face warming in fury. “I’m boring? Really! At least I don’t spend my entire day blowing things up and beating people half to death!”

Bakugou blinks. He blinks, sucks a breath, and then you watch his smirk crawl slow and sure across the entirety of his face. He got you. He got you to break, and he won, and he knows it.

He knows it and he settles back on his good hand, leaning away to get a better look at your flustered face. He cocks his head to the side, studying and analytical for a moment. He nods.

“There. We’re fuckin’ even.”

“Excuse me?”

“Even. You shouldn’t have fuckin’ pried around in my head and not expected me to pry in yours.”

“That’s what this is about?” You sigh incredulously, putting your scissors down on the medical cart. “Really? You’re still on that- how- how does this even tell you what’s in my head? You’re just insulting me. It doesn’t!”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Then why are you so fuckin’ pissed right now? Hah?” He squints his eyes, voice smooth and dripping with arrogance. “It’s cause I’m right. You’re so fuckin’ boring when you play nice all the time.”

“Play nice? What the hell are you even on about? You don’t know me.”

“I know that you piss me the hell off bein’ fake. If I fuckin’ irritate you then say so. Don’t put on your fuckin’ kid gloves and try and be professional. It’s weak.”

“No. It’s how I keep my job. Which you know, you wouldn’t understand, because you literally pick fights for a living!” You huff, pushing the medical cart off to the side and stepping back from him. “Actually- you know what, no. I’m done with this. This conversation. Your stitches are out, and you can leave since you obviously can’t stand me and would rather be anywhere but here.”

You watch him flare his nostrils again, a snarl ripping from his mouth. He slams his closed fist down on the hospital bed, eyes like blazing conflagration. Bakugou looks pissed, but more than anything he looks vulnerable. Worn raw.

“I can’t.” He grits.

“Yes! You actually can! Just walk out! Literally just walk out an-’

“God, you’re so fucking dense! I can’t leave without figuring out how the fuck you do it!”

“Do what?” You nearly scream, your owns hands beginning to clench into fists.

“I need to know.” He repeats again, hopping off the hospital bed.

His feet hit the ground, steps like rolling thunder as he nears, broad shoulders and muscular arms casting an intimidating shadow. Bakugou looks like an angry bull storming toward you. Like he’ll obliterate you given even half the chance.

“Take your fucking gloves off.”

You’re scared now, eyes darting over to the door. You knew nobody was doing rounds in the luxury wing right now, and sound didn’t pass through walls that were made to ensure silence. Heart racing in your chest, you size him up, try to think of a way to escape but he’s so close to you and he’s built like a linebacker and-

“Jesus christ. Not like that. Fuckin’ idiot.” He growls, hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He stops a few feet in front of you, sneering. “You’re not my fuckin’ type, so don’t flatter yourself. Now, grow the fuck up and take them off before I do it for you.”  

You’re not sure what makes you listen, maybe it’s fear, maybe it’s something else, but either way you listen. You pull a glove off, just barely dropping it on the counter before Bakugou speaks again.

“I’m gonna touch your hand- but do not use your quirk. Don’t even think about using it. Just fucking stand there. And don’t freak the fuck out and put up a fight about it. You’re just gonna waste time.”

You nod, hand shaking as you extend it. Bakugou seems to roll his eyes at that, but he surges forward anyways, fingers meeting yours. 

You feel it almost immediately. Your heart speeds up, but just slightly, beginning beat against your chest where it had just barely been grazing it before. You breathe deep, close you eyes, focus in on the buzzing of your skin- the way your bones sing of subtle fire. It’s barely there but it feels like warmth. Reminds you of that night, with Bakugou, when you were burning alive. Reminds you of how your bones felt too large and your skin felt too small and there somehow wasn’t enough room in the entire world to hold the weight of your rage.

“You ambient fucking bitch.” Bakugou swears under his breath. When you look at him, he’s fluttering his own eyes open, dropping your hand like it burned him.

Then he steps back and you’re gasping for air. It’s not entirely back again- but it’s reminiscent. There’s an inkling of that bone-deep exhaustion. That weariness that so often stole the air from you lungs and the ground beneath your feet. 

“Your quirk. It’s ambient. Through your skin.”

You shrink back even more, blinking owlishly up at him. 

“What? You didn’t fucking know? Jesus, how clueless are you?”

“It’s-I-” You drop your head, running a hand through your hair. “I never- I always wear gloves. Always. And long sleeves. Since I was little. Never wanted to take the chance- how did you even know.” 

Bakugou seems to turn his nose up at your question. He steps back, further and farther until his back hits the hospital bed. There’s distance but somehow he keeps the air just as charged, averting his eyes when he speaks next.

“Went to sleep. A week ago. When I saw you-”

“What? Bakugou that doesn’t- you’re not-”

“If you’d let me fuckin’ finish,” He glares down at you again, trying to beat you into submission with eye-contact alone. It works and you fall silent, holding your breath as he resumes. “You put me to sleep. Then and three months ago. I haven’t slept peacefully like that in fuckin’ years. So obviously you used your quirk on me. It’s easy. A fuckin’ moron could’ve figured it out.”

“No- but I didn’t touch you! Well, the first time, yeah, I did, but not a week ago. I was wearing gloves and I-”

“When I told you to do the splint over, the sleeve of your coat rode up.” He grits out, cheeks slightly flushing as he averts his eyes. “Then I almost fell asleep. Not like the first time, but still. Asleep. So obviously it’s your fuckin’ skin.” 

Suddenly, the ground is ripped out from under you.

Your entire life you’d always been tired. Day in and day out, constantly dragging your feet like you could never get enough sleep. Like there wasn’t enough hours in the day for you to live and be rested. 

Was it your quirk this entire time? Were you somehow ambiently draining people of their pain- even if you just accidentally brushed their skin with yours? 

You don’t know how you never realized it. How you never put two and two together. 

You’d spent your entire life purposefully using your quirk to help people-  had then sacrificed days and weeks of your life afterwards tucked away in bed and sleeping off the exhaustion. When you used your power on purpose, depending on the severity of someone’s pain, it would debilitate you. But you still did it- over and over and over again because you wanted to help people. Because you knew you could and that became the only reason you needed. 

You’d always just assumed your constant exhaustion to be aftershocks of how often you used your quirk- you never even considered the possibility that it was something you were doing unintentionally. That you were draining yourself with every hug and handshake and high-five that should’ve made you feel better.

You’d always sort of disliked being touched. Somehow always walked away with your skin prickling uncomfortably for as long as you could remember. You just never knew why until now. 

“Oi- I thought I told you not to freak the fuck out.”

“It’s- how the hell am I not supposed to freak out about this?” You gasp, hands braced behind you on the counter. “I didn’t know! My entire life! And you met me like, what, twice and you figured it out and- Are you falling asleep right now?”

In your spiral Bakugou had somehow ended back up on the hospital bed. He was still sat up, but his shoulders were completely slumped over and his eyes were half-lidded. He looked completely drained of all previous anger, swaying slightly as he blinked himself back to perfect alertness.

“Yeah. Probably.” He grumbles. “It’s your fuckin’ fault.”

“You barely touched me! How the hell is-”

“Don’t ask me, you fuckin’ leech.” He yawns, hand closed into a fist as he rubs at his eyes. “You’re the one with the stupid goddamn quirk. Not me.”

“That’s- sorry. I didn’t know. Holy shit,” You curl arms around your stomach, eyes widening. “Have I been doing this shit to everyone? My entire life?”

Bakugou groans. Audibly. Loudly.

“You’re the stupidest goddamn idiot on the face of the planet. Swear to fuck, I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

“You’re not helping!” You exclaim. “It was rhetorical question! Excuse me for freaking out right now- I’m sure you’d freak out too if you suddenly found out you were osmosis-ing people’s emotions your entire life!” 

“Heh.”

“God, and just what the hell are you laughing about? This isn’t funny!”

“Osmosis.” He reiterates, mouth drawn up into a shit-eating grin. “Change your quirk name. To osmosis. Alleviate is shitty and stupid and it makes you sound fucking dumb.”

You bristle again, suddenly shaking any and all tiredness, rounding on him as you seethe.

“You- you are a goddamn asshole! You know that?” You start, stopping just a few feet in front of him. “You come in here, and insult me. Call me boring! In my own fuckin’ workplace! While I’m literally taking your stitches out! And then you tell me how my quirk works- somehow have the audacity to be fucking right about it, and now you’re insulting me? Again?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re just sitting there, completely fine, smiling like there’s something funny! This isn’t funny! I’m not funny! This is my life- which you literally have been bulldozing through for months now- are you falling asleep? Again? No! No! Not in my- wake the fuck up! Asshole!”

You’re snapping in his face, just inches away from his eyes, and Bakugou hardly even blinks. He just sits still, calm and sated as you seethe just inches away from him. You huff in absolute hatred and that finally shocks some life into him. He smiles. Tiny and barely-there, but he smiles.

“See, not so nice anymore. Knew you weren’t. Fuckin’ liar.”

You want to scream. You want to tear your hair out and maybe take Bakugou’s too, and scratch and claw until you’re bathing in all the rage you’d accidentally stolen from him. You can’t though- you can’t because suddenly the sun starts to set. It falls behind the horizon line, seeping the gold from his skin and drowning him in sterile, white, artificial pallid-ness. His skin goes translucent and the only color in the entirety of his image are the bags under his eyes. Well, the bags under his eyes and the stark red of the barely-healed slice on his forehead. 

You curse your own heart. Nearly collapse under the weight of your own sympathy. Bakugou was an asshole, an absolute, irredeemable dick, and you still wanted to heal him. Help him. Somehow. Miraculously.

So then you’re centering yourself, rubbing a hand down your face to soothe your wound-up features.

“God, you actually do look pretty bad.” You say, all attempts at grace and keeping it professional completely gone. “You really weren’t kidding about needing to sleep, huh?”

“No shit. Leech.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. That’s fine. Trade one mean nickname for another- I mean, hey, at least this one’s accurate right?” 

Bakugou does actually exhale a laugh at that remark, limbs a flurry of chaotic movement when he throws himself back on the bed. His head hits the pillow and it’s only seconds before he’s shutting his eyes.

“So, what, you’re just, like, sleeping now?” You ask, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah.”

“You can’t.”

“I can.”

“This is a hospital, Bakugou.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” He mumbles, yawning into his hand. “‘m fuckin’ Dynamite. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”

“I’m sorry- do you, do you actually think you can ego your way out of rules? Seriously? You can’t sleep here! Not unless you’re critically injured and need like, round-the-clock care.” 

He stills, breath evening and you think he’s fallen asleep. Then he’s lazily bringing a hand up, pointing it loosely at his head.

“I’m critically fuckin’ injured.”

“No- you’re not. That’s a cut and it’s already healing and-”

“I need round-the-clock care.”

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?”

“No.” He grunts, flopping as he turns away from you. Then he’s facing the wall, nuzzling into the pillow. “I’m tired.”

“It’s-” You start, but then you’re once again falling victim to your own empathy. One look at his translucent skin is all it takes. “Fine. You know what? I don’t give a shit. Do what you want, I guess. Nobody else is using these rooms.” 

“Okay. Leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“Get the fuck out.” He slurs, cheek pressed up against the pillow as his eyes flutter beneath his eyelids. “Bein’ too loud. Leave.”

“Fine. Enjoy your sleep. Jerk.”

“Leech.”

You nearly punch him in frustration- until you realize that would probably only relax him more; because apparently this really is Bakugou’s world and you were the unlucky one just living in it.

He’s out before you’re even finished packing up. You’re wiping down all the surfaces either of you had touched, just about to leave, when he starts snoring. It’s a soft, almost kitten-like sound, just barely audible over your own breathing. It pisses you off. Boils your blood in your veins because it’s so goddamn humanizing even when he acts like the anti-christ with an even worse temper. It’s stupidly endearing and ridiculously sobering and incredibly, incredibly irritating. 

That stupid sound is why you double back upon leaving the room. Why you’re suddenly choosing to reverse instead of moving forward, why you’re suddenly reaching into the cupboard instead of shutting the door behind you. 

When you carefully unfold the blanket, settling it gently over his sleeping form, there’s only one thing on your mind.

Fuck being an empath.

--/--

taglist:  @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness 

[fanfictionwritingoddity]

𝙄𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟑 𝐤 𝐭𝐰: 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠: 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐤𝐢

( 𝙾𝚒𝚔𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚃𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚞 𝚡 𝙶𝙽!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 )

You were sitting on the couch, legs tucked against your chest as you aimlessly scrolled through social media. Everything you read was so incredibly boring, only perpetuating the sudden wave of drowsiness you felt. Glancing at the time, you realized you had about an hour and a half before you and Tooru were scheduled to go on your date. A giddy smile pasted itself on your lips, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. You hopped up, making your way to you and your boyfriends shared bedroom.

Ever since you and Oikawa had moved to Argentina, he had little time to spare for personal activities. His sights were more focused on things like training, fan meet and greets, and games. You understood, of course. However, it had been almost a year since the two of you had done anything close to a date. That was why you were so excited, barely being able to contain yourself from skipping to the bathroom.

The door opened as you reached for the knob, stunning you into a momentary silence. Tooru walked out, running his fingers gently through his soft brown locks. He was donning a crimson suit and dress pants and a white button up, finished with a red tie. The man’s eyebrow cocked in interest as you admired him, a sly grin on his mouth.

“What are you in such a rush for?”

His question made your heart drop. Oikawa couldn’t have forgotten your date, could he? You had assumed that his fancy get-up had been in preparation for your time together. Shaking your head free of the negative thoughts, you weakly smiled up at your boyfriend. You had to trust him. Sure, Tooru had imperfections like everyone did, but he would never forget something so important.

“... Our date?”

Your tone was hopeful, eyes shining in the dim light peeking through the bathroom entrance. The volleyball player blinked in confusion, cocoa brows furrowing as he probed his brain for an inkling of information about the date you were talking about. Suddenly, it all washed over him. His lips twitched into an uncomfortable smile.

“Ah... about that.. I actually have a signing today. I’m sorry, babe.”

Oikawa laid his hand on your shoulder, patting twice, before walking into the bedroom to finish getting ready. You couldn’t believe what just happened. Your significant other had canceled the date you had planned a year in advance, and the only comfort he offered was a few pats on your shoulder? The repetitive behavior struck a match in your stomach, a bonfire lighting within you. Anger contorted your features as you whipped around to face Tooru.

“Tooru, we’ve had this date planned for a year now! Couldn’t you reschedule this signing? Your fans will still be there later...”

“Are you saying you won’t? You won’t be there later?”

His voice was bitter and accusatory, almost as sharp as the cutting glance he sent over his shoulder. You flinched, taken aback by the harshness. After a moment, Oikawa looked back down to the watch he was clipping onto his wrist in front of the bedroom vanity mirror. Your heart urged you to apologize, but for one of the first times in your life, you allowed logic to take over. Steeling yourself against the aggression you were about to receive, you dug your feet into the ground, both physically and metaphorically.

“I think you should go on this date and reschedule, Tooru.”

“You know how important it is for me to interact with my fans.”

“Of course I know, but shouldn’t it be equally as important if not more for you to interact with me? I’m your significant other for god’s sake, I followed you all the way to Argentina! I didn’t come so I could be shoved aside every chance you had to increase your publicity!”

Your words caused a pause in your boyfriend’s actions. A heavy silence filled the bedroom as the clicking sounds of his watch ceased. The vermillion-clad male trained his gaze up from his arm to the mirror, meeting your eyes in the reflection. His auburn orbs were cold, devoid of their usual playfulness and mirth, jaw tensing and untensing as he processed your statements. Tooru couldn’t help the wry laugh that escaped his lips.

“Your inferiority complex is showing.”

“... What?”

The singular, murmured sentence had caught your breath in your throat. All your life you had struggled with feeling like you weren’t good enough for the people around you. You knew this, Oikawa knew this. Of course he did, you had told him years ago as you laid together under the stars. But, you promised. You both agreed on the oath that any weaknesses the other had would never be used against them in an argument.

Fights were bound to happen. No couple was perfect, and a couple that didn’t have the occasional squabble was most likely doomed to fail. You must’ve heard him wrong, right? There was no way Tooru would say such a thing to you, knowing how painful it would be, knowing he had sworn to never bring it up when you clashed.

“I said, your superiority complex is showing. I mean, look at you! You’re tripping over yourself to get a single shred of my attention. You may as well be one of my fans at this point.”

“Apologize. Now.”

The man’s eye twitched as he heard your breaking voice, and he realized what he said. The ice in his glare was replaced by instant regret. Tears were blurring your vision as you choked on the quiet following your words. Understanding that Oikawa had no intention to apologize, at least not in that moment, a sound that was a mix between a gasp and laugh escaped your lips. The tears had long since left your eyes, making salt trails down your cheek as you turned around, walked away, and began rifling through the closet.

“Baby, I-”

“Save it, Oikawa.”

You spat his name like it was venom on your tongue. In the peripherals of your vision, you saw the volleyball player tense at the use of his last name. You began to pull out some of your clothes and stuff them into a nearby empty suitcase. Tooru observed helplessly as you packed, hands twitching as he attempted to figure out a way to remedy the situation he had created. When you walked past him to take some of your jewelry, he reached out and caught your arm in an iron grip.

“Y/N, just wait, we can talk this through-”

“No, Oikawa, I’m done fucking waiting! I’ve waited a year now! Every single time I came to you with my concerns about how I felt like I wasn’t being treated as anything but a flat-mate, you always shot them down with some half-assed excuse and apology. I’m done waiting, Tooru. I deserve more than this. I deserve to be treated well, I deserve love and I deserve someone who will prioritize me over some fucking fangirls.”

Wrenching your arm out of his grip, you glimpsed the brunette’s face fall. Your heart shattered as the first tears escaped his glossy eyes. He didn’t want you to leave. You had been the only person that was always on his side and the one he could trust to always have his back. A velvet box was situated uncomfortably in his pocket, a sparkling diamond ring inside. Oikawa was going to propose to you. He was going to ask you to marry him, but he fucked it up.

It took all of his strength to not scream and cry and beg you to stay. All he could do was train his eyes on your form as you left the suite and slammed the door shut behind you. Already, the male could feel the emptiness of the abode. Everything was out of place with you gone. But, this was his fault. Tooru loved you enough to know that you did deserve better, so he let you go. He watched you leave, because you were right.

He knew this, so why did it hurt so badly?

[sanccharine]

grave gambles and perilous falls | sy

hogwarts au

pairing: slytherin chaser!siyeon x gender neutral reader 

genre: fluff and comedy?

word count: 1k

warnings: quidditch related harm/injuries

summary: there was a reason you weren’t on the quidditch team. fortunately, for you and your life, siyeon was. 

a/n: wrote another hogwarts fic for ficscafe’s dialogue prompt event and chose prompt number 33 – ‘you’re an idiot, you know.’ ‘yes, but i’m your idiot.’ haven’t given the reader a house but i imagine them to be from gryffindor. also this was kinda rushed so i’m not too proud of it :///

tagging: @its-a-me-mario-hihi @reluvy​

Agreeing to play a mini-game of Quidditch with the group of goblins you call friends may not have been your wisest decision. 

Not to say you couldn’t handle a broom, but amongst actual Quidditch players and friends who had no conscience when it came to competitions, it was not an understatement to say your life was in danger. Of course, these thoughts only occurred as you were plummeting from an unimaginable height and not when you’d made an outrageous bet under the high of completing your OWLs exams. 

One second you were zipping past your friends, teeth bearing grin on your face and the Quaffle secure in your hand, and the next you were thrown off of your broom. No Quaffle, no broom, and no grin. Flailing about like a fish out of water, the wind thrashed at your uniform and swallowed your screams as you gained speed, the ground rising up at an alarming rate. 

Before you could even think of grabbing your wand to cast a cushioning spell to save yourself from your impending doom, a strong hand wrapped around your waist and hoisted you uncomfortably onto their broom. However, with your saviour’s momentum and how close to the ground you had been, their broom went careening, throwing you off of a broom for the second time today. 

Fortunately, you seemed to have somewhat conscientious friends as you felt a soft thump against your back before rolling onto the pitch, eating grass. Your saviour came to a stop next to you, panting, dishevelled, and no doubt furious at your attackers. 

Huffing and puffing, Siyeon asked breathily to the sky, “are you okay, Y/N?”

“That was so stupid–“ Siyeon’s head snapped to you, her face contorted into confusion while she tried to prop herself up on her elbows, “I would’ve been fine!–“

Funnily enough, as you made your point, you began coughing as if your body were to say that no, you would not have been fine. Though you doubted your own reflexes, you were thankful for your friends who watched the stupid bets and hasty matches instead of taking part, if not for them…you would definitely not be fine. 

Siyeon scooted closer to you, cautiously angling herself above you as her thumb caressed your cheek. “Eyelash,” was all she said as she avoided your gaze; a pitiful reason to hold your face. Leaning into her touch, you pressed your lips into a thin line to suppress the laughter emerging at her pathetic attempt at flirting. 

“We lost the bet,” you sighed out, watching your friends on their brooms lowering themselves to the ground having scored the winning point. You turned back to Siyeon, it was difficult to not notice the worry etched in the creases of her forehead when she was only inches away. “We could’ve–”

Siyeon watched you swear under your breath as you vented about what could’ve happened. A soft smile appeared on her lips, seeing that you were good enough to be more concerned about a stupid bet even after your terrifying fall. Siyeon shook her head and said, “you’re an idiot, you know.” 

You paused your rant and looked back at Siyeon, really looked at her; she must’ve been really worried. “Yes, but I’m your idiot,” you said offering an impish grin, before you took the hand that held your cheek and pushed forward to peck her lips. Even she couldn’t argue with that logic, so before you could properly thank her she leaned in for another. Siyeon seemed seemed a bit better after that; the two of you just there, in the middle of a the Quidditch field, chuckling and mildly delirious.

Of course, that moment disappeared just as quickly as you’d been flung off of your broom. 

“Wrong, you’re both idiots.” A sharp voice from above you said, “and that was unbearable to watch, by the way.” 

Above you, floating on his Nimbus broom sat the Slytherin chaser, Yoon Jeonghan; the Quaffle in one hand accompanied by a bright smile that can only be worn by a ruthless winner. Beside him, the Gryffindor Seungcheol, who on the other hand, wore an apologetic smile for tackling you. A mini-match of Quidditch with your friends was no simple task, especially with the bet you’d agreed upon…which was exactly why Siyeon said this next.

“You cheated!” Siyeon accused, fully sitting up now as Jeonghan landed, shaking his head. 

“I did no such thing! That’s our move, it’s just basic Quidditch!” Jeonghan said, as Siyeon wagged her finger. 

“We play Quidditch,” she said motioning to her and Jeonghan, then pointed at your, nearly poking an eye out. “Y/N doesn’t! You can’t pull stuff like that!” 

Jeonghan shrugged, “Seungcheol doesn’t play Quidditch either so–”

“Jeonghan, how is that fair? Seungcheol is built like a Giant– I demand a rematch!” Your small group of friends that had gathered to watch the two Slytherins yell, grunted in disapproval at Siyeon’s words. It was understandable, with their OWLs completed and three somewhat decent mini-games of Quidditch behind them, all anyone wanted was a filling dinner and good night of sleep. 

Raising an eyebrow, Jeonghan said, “try again. Loser.” 

Siyeon’s mouth fell open as charged silence fell over the group, even you were holding your breath and when Siyeon spoke next, snorts and sniggers erupted amongst your friends. With her head hanging low, Siyeon grumbled, “please consider a rematch…Professor Yoon.” 

Jeonghan brought a finger to his lips as he pretended to contemplate this suggestion while he jumped off of his broom. Then with a saccharine smile, he said, “permission denied, Ms Lee.” 

Nayeon’s unique guffaw was heard above your friends' cackles while Jeonghan stared at Siyeon with a triumphant grin. Seungcheol, dropping down from his broom, walked over to you to help you up with an apology on his lips. 

Being the honourable loser, you said, “thank you, Professor Choi.”

With his dimples in full display, he only cringed at your words as the rest of you watched Jeonghan drill out orders for Siyeon to carry out. Though you and Joshua were also supposed to be carrying out this punishment, you hung back with the rest of the group, laughing at the sight of Siyeon running behind her professor as the sun began to descend, signalling the last night of your fifth year at Hogwarts.

any feedback is much appreciated.

[luvteez]

at your service

pairing: san x fem!reader genre + tags: smut | humiliation (in the form of wearing a maid costume bc san is a kinky weeb), begging, master kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected sex wc: 2.2k

A smirk creeps on San’s lips the moment the door flies open. He’s made himself comfortable on the bed, legs crossed and head resting against the headboard. Before he can let out the comment that’s been lying heavy on the tip of his tongue, you lash out first.

“I fucking hate you for making me wear this.”

“Yes, you told me that around six times already,” he drawls, visibly amused by the situation. “But we had a deal. You lost, so suck it up.”

The neckline plunges too low for your liking, and the skirt — can it even be considered a skirt? — is so short that you’re bound to flash the panties you’re wearing underneath whenever you as much as dare move. Perhaps you’d find the garter belt cute, if only you weren’t wearing it with this skimpy version of a maid uniform. How much did San pay for this? Actually, you don’t want to know.

San gets off the bed, eyes trained on you the entire time. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth once his gaze settles on your exposed legs, making you clench your thighs together. The way he blatantly eye-fucks you has you growing wet, and you fucking hate it. It’s one thing to be put through this humiliation, but wearing this maid outfit and being aroused? Your ego can only take so much.

Once he’s standing in front of you, the power imbalance couldn’t get any more obvious. There’s him, wearing a nice dress shirt with the top buttons undone and black jeans, and then there’s you in nothing but a slutty rendition of a servant costume. The look he sends you makes you tear your eyes away from him and heartbeat rise to your ears, and you just hope for the better that he doesn’t point it out.

Luckily, he doesn’t. Instead, he circles around you, giving you a once-over from every possible angle. It’s silent, save for the sound of San’s footsteps bouncing off the walls. You wait for him to say something with bated breath, but that never comes. Eventually, he stops right behind you, and you’re pretty sure he’s fixated on the part of your ass that the skirt doesn’t cover.

The silence is deafening, unbearable even, but you don’t plan on losing this unsaid game. If San already has you dressed as degradingly as it can get, you’re not going to entertain him any further. But then an arm wraps around your waist and pins your back against his chest, while another hand snakes down under your skirt and cups your covered cunt. You manage to bite back a moan at the sudden contact, but your body betrays you with how you jolt.

“Cute,” San snickers, before propping his chin on your shoulder. “Just adorable.” His breath is hot against your neck as he continues to put his fingers to use. He traces your folds over the panties that are slowly turning damper by the second, toys around with your clit, and even dares to shove some of your underwear into your entrance once you’re leaking enough to his liking. You struggle to stand still on both legs as he does how he pleases, deadset on withstanding him, even if this torture is the cost. 

“I hate you,” you say through gritted teeth, but it comes out rather comical when your knees finally give up on you and you lean on him for support. The subtle moan that follows suit doesn’t help either. San only smiles against your skin before he pushes your underwear aside and slides two digits in you. The messy technique is all over the place, but he curls his fingers in all the right angles and hits all of your weak spots precisely, reducing you into a panting wreck. You throw your head back, overwhelmed by everything that’s going on, and when he pays attention to your clit again, you’re on the verge. 

You’re so close that you can taste your sweet release, but then he stops. You’re about to complain because you know full well what he’s done, but he beats you to it first.

“Come again? What did you say? You’re my maid now, so you better act like one. This is part of the deal after all.” Although he’s muttering in your ear, he enunciates every single syllable with clarity that makes your skin crawl. “Apologize.”

You know exactly what he’s after. San wants to break you. wants to crush your pride and make you his little bitch. You’d put up a longer fight, but your mind is just revolving around sansansan and the desperate want to come. 

“Forgive me.” You cringe at how small your voice sounds, defenseless even. 

“Forgive me...?” he echoes as his fingers start to move again, albeit at a much slower pace than before. You’re confused by the implication, and turn all cogs in your brain in hopes of finding the answer. 

Oh.

Oh.

The daunting realization must’ve flashed across your face because San encourages you to speak. If only you could turn your head and face him, you’d give him a piece of your mind. Not that it would’ve been effective anyway, since he has you locked in his hold.

He whispers the first syllable of the word, and you gasp. Your suspicions were right all along, but the confirmation makes you burn up even more in embarrassment. He’s really trying to stoop you down onto the lowest level. 

But you can do it. you tell yourself you can do it. After all, a deal’s a deal.

“M-master. Forgive me, master.”

San wasn’t prepared for the delivery, judging by the way he flinches. To your dismay, he pulls out entirely, leaving you gaping, and the growl that follows is borderline feral. “You’re the maid, not me. You’re the one who should be doing all the work. If you want to cum, then earn it.” With that, he lets go of you before heading back to the bed. 

You’re at a loss of words. All you can do is stare at him as he makes himself comfy on the bed again, but you quickly scramble to him when he motions you towards him with a flick of his hand. 

“What do you want me to do?” San cocks a brow as if to say is this your best? and you quickly rephrase. “Is there anything I can help you with... master?” The word feels so foreign on your tongue, doesn’t slip the right way. You hate how it’s enough of a confirmation that he has the upper hand; a confirmation that you’re nothing but his little servant. 

He smiles lazily. “Sit on my cock.” And that’s all it takes to have you straddling him. You don’t waste any time pulling his pants down along with the black briefs, letting his length spring out. He’s fully hard and flushed red, just looking inviting to suck on, and it has your mouth watering. But then: “Keep the uniform on.”

Of course it was too good to be true. There’s no way San would let you forget who’s in absolute charge here. You can’t complain though, because you’re getting dicked earlier than expected. 

You manage to slide him inside of you without any complications. Breathy moans leave his mouth as you take him in inch by inch, and the way he struggles to lie still is a tiny victory for you. Meanwhile, the way his cock stretches you out has you whining in pleasure, and your head is only spinning around sansansan by the time you’ve taken him up to the hilt.

“Can I— do you want me to move, master?” 

Maybe it was because you got your hopes up to high, but you can’t help how disdain spreads all over you when San reaches for his phone on the nightstand. “No. Sit still.”

And just like that, he dismisses you nonchalantly and starts tapping rapidly on his phone; as if having you sit on his cock while wearing a maid outfit is a daily occurrence. Your jaw nearly drops when you realize he’s fucking texting. You’re about to speak up, but then the thought of him chastising you because you’re supposed to be a maid pops up in your brain. He’d definitely do that, and he’d definitely punish you too. The question is, how far is he willing to go?

You don’t want to find out. 

So you sit still, losing track of time. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on his lap, trying your best not to think about his cock pulsing in you, but it must’ve been a fucking while when San suddenly tilts his phone, thumbs no longer moving. That’s when you become acutely aware of the camera facing you, and you can’t help but wonder what on earth he’s watching. 

Or what if he’s filming you—

That thought has you unknowingly clenching your walls, and you inhale sharply as you realize he’s still snug in you. Luckily, San doesn’t stir, and that realization has you going on your rounds. Maybe if you do it one more time and he doesn’t budge, you could get away with it—

“A-are you recording?” The words are spoken out loud before you even realize it.

San looks up at you and tilts his head. “No, I’m not. Why?” His voice is dripping in innocence, but then he lifts a brow and you know you’re doomed. “Do you want me to record you? Does it turn you on? Is that the reason why you keep tightening around me? Why you’re quite literally dripping on my cock?” 

Your heart almost stops dead in its tracks. So he noticed the entire time.

“Please let me move, master. Please,” you blurt out, no longer caring about your fucking dignity. “Please let me come on your cock. W-want master to fuck me dumb and show me my place.” The number of times you said please in the last few seconds is pitiful, but you don’t find it within you to care. 

“That would imply that you were thinking in the first place. If you weren’t stupid, you wouldn’t have insulted me and said you hated me.”

“You’re right, master, I wasn’t thinking earlier. Please,” you beg, vision slowly getting blurry. San truly outdid himself and got what he fucking wanted, reducing you to the point where you’re so desperate you’re about to cry. Of course you’re desperate because there’s a cock filling you up but you’re not being fucked. And as if that wasn’t hell in itself, you’re wearing this godforsaken maid outfit because you lost a bet.

“Ssh, I got you, baby.” San’s eyes instantly soften and there’s fondness lying in them. You know what he’s about to ask, but you quickly give him the green light to continue. He mouths you an ‘okay’ and reassuringly squeezes your hand before settling both of his hands on your hips. 

There’s a playful glimmer in his eyes, and then he sets back into character, smugness written all over his face. “You want me to fuck you dumb? I’m gonna fuck your brains out, alright.”

In a split second, his grip on your hips tighten. the next thing you know, he snaps his hips against you, and you’re sent three dimensions over. 

His cock manages to reach you even deeper if that’s humanly possible, and you sob. Your moans overlap with his grunts as he thrusts in and out of you at a brutal pace. You barely find the energy to keep your body up, and it’s all San’s doing as he slams your hips down on him. Eventually, he manages to flip your positions around so that you’re pliant underneath him. He doesn’t let down with the intensity when he fumbles for your clit, and your eyes roll back as you feel your orgasm approaching. 

And just a few seconds before you unravel, he pulls his cock out entirely. Fighting back the tears welling up in your eyes, you choke when he nudges his head against your clit. Precum dribbles down your slit and mixes with your own slick, reminding you that he’s not letting you come again.

“Why?” you wince. San is unfazed by your desperation.

“You wanted me to show you your place, didn’t you?” He slides his head along your slit for good measure, and raises his voice to add, “I’ll show you your place and give you what you want if you do what master wants.”

Despite the buzz in your head, you get the underlying order. San isn’t fucking around and means business, always has, so you muster up the energy to ask, “What do you want, master?”

The sly grin he flashes is the only thing you see. “I want you to say my name over and over again. And once you’ve said it loud enough, I want you to scream it.” He gently grabs your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “I want the whole neighbourhood to know who’s making you feel good.”

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

this may sound strange but hear me out — while in the scorch thomas and the crew come across the reader who is a crank whose like full crankified but they’re aware. 👁👄👁 hopefully I make sense but yeah!

Makes sense to me! I think...hopefully I interpreted "self aware" by how (if you've seen Warm Bodies) the main character is a zombie that's aware, but still has those zombie urges an' stuff. That's how I'm writing the reader at least. Hope you enjoy! 😊

Possible trigger warning: being a Crank is v depressing

~~~~~~~~~~

How did it come to this?

How did I get here?

My life was fine...it was. I was happyish in the Glade, but then I was stupid enough to follow Thomas. We did escape, but I was left behind. Just another Glader left for dead.

I thought I would die, but unfortunately I’m still here, in a fate worse than death.

I didn’t think I’d get the so called Flare virus, I would’ve hoped I died of natural causes first. But not me, just my fuckin’ luck.

I’m just stuck in this body that doesn’t even feel like my own anymore. I’m not even in control, well, I am, but I can’t control these strong impulses to kill.

I wish I wasn’t here. I wish someone would just kill me and put me out of my misery. Anything would be better than being an uncontrollable monster, even if there’s nothing on the other side.

Please, someone...kill me...

Of course, nobody answered your prayers, you were doomed to roam the Scorch as a Crank.

You walked countless miles across the desert, but when you reached the W.C.K.D. facility, it’s like you had a gut feeling that you shouldn’t go near the building.

But you stayed in the vicinity. You had no idea why. Why would a Crank ever feel compelled to stay near an area they’d never been? Why would a Crank feel the need to wait?

And yet, that gut feeling you had was right. One night, the doors opened and a bunch of familiar faces ran out into the sandstorm.

Even as a Crank, you recognized those kids. They were once your friends. best friends, the only friends you remembered having.

You tried to will yourself not to follow their silhouetted figures running from the facility, but your legs moved with theirs, following them across the yellow sanded desert shrouded in darkness by the night sky.

No, please...I don’t want to hurt them...

Your mind’s plea didn’t connect to your body movements, you were headed right for them and you had no control.

Thomas and the others made it out of W.C.K.D., Teresa leading the boys into an abandoned building out of the sandstorm. They decided to look for any sign of the Right Arm, or just survivors in general.

Thomas and Minho separated from the group to find a light source. But as the boys got closer and closer to the end of the wires they were following, the rotten stench of death filled their nostrils as they walked.

Thomas and Minho only gave each other silent looks of concern as they suddenly heard soft groans coming from across the room they were currently in. And like the brave idiots they are, they stepped forward to take a closer look.

Turning on the generator to light up the building, the two boys almost dropped their flashlights once they realized where the smell was coming from.

You stood at the other side of the room, the only movements they could decipher from you was your heavy labored breathing and the twitching of your hands.

You saw how horrified they looked, seeing you as a monster, you didn’t blame them. You knew you must’ve looked god awful.

You wanted to say something, anything. But you had to focus on not charging at them, so all you could do was stare at them with your cold dead eyes. “Y/N...” Thomas voiced softly.

“I guess we know what happened to her after all.” Minho said grimly.

They had no idea what to do. They’d never come across an actual Crank before, so seeing you that way was awful.

“Can...can you say something?”

“Thomas, this isn’t like what happened to Ben. She’s gone.”

You were starting to lose control again, you itched to run at them, tear them apart with your rotting teeth, rip out their throats...it was an all consuming desire. You let out painful groan.

“Thomas, we should leave. There’s nothing we can do.”

Thomas and Minho screamed out when a loud inhuman screech came from your voice. “We can’t just leave her like this!” 

“Well, we can’t stay and let her kill us!”

You twitched violently, what little control you had left your body and you couldn’t help yourself. You charged forward, quickly tackling Minho to the ground as Thomas looked on in shock.

You felt so helpless as you saw Minho’s terrified and sad face beneath you. You were unrecognizable as you tried to bite his face. In a split second, Minho didn’t know what to do. You were once his friend, how could he even kill you? But thankfully, Thomas quickly sprung into action, kicking you off of Minho and dragging him away, but you pursued.

Your pursuit after your two friends caused a chain reaction of other Cranks to chase after them. You wanted to cry, you were the reason they might be killed. You wished Minho or Thomas would’ve killed you when they had the chance, then maybe this wouldn’t be happening.

After the boys screamed out to the others to run, they all ran to leave the building, but you and your fellow Cranks followed. 

Please, get out of here alive...your mind called out loudly, the plea so loud it echoed in your brain the entire time your body followed the crowd without your permission. You just wanted your friends to make it out safely.

Seeing your friends do a double take when you showed up at the front of the crowd of Cranks, trying to kill them, was heartbreaking for both you and them.

You tried, you tried so hard to stop yourself, but even clawing at Winston wasn’t enough to snap out of it. You clawed into him so roughly that the group pulled you through the door along with him.

You heard everyone talking over each other about what to do, one was crying, one kept encouraging for your second death.

By that point, you were already pulled off Winston, Minho and Frypan holding you back as you tried to claw and bite out of their grasp. You saw Winston’s clawed open stomach...it was all your fault...

You looked up to Thomas, holding a gun that was previously held by Winston.

Do it, Thomas...please.

Thomas help up the pistol with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N...I’m sorry we couldn’t save you.” He whispered, reluctantly squeezing the trigger until a loud shot echoed through everyone’s ears.

Darkness...nothingness...but you felt no pain...

You were finally free...

~~~~~~~~~~

Geez, how dark...

Also, sorry, this took way too long to write

[domesticmail]

you send me - jj maybank

summary: a short-ish fic in which john b. basically forces you and jj to get on a boat and watch the sunset. with slight jealous!jj vibes and some real intense artist!reader vibes

a/n: yes i’m in love with the whole “wild and reckless falls for soft-spoken and gentle” cliche, u can’t stop me from exploring every single possible outcome of this potential relationship :)

taglist: @arthriticcrickets i know u asked to be tagged if i ever wrote anything with artist!reader and jj, so here u are!! i hope u enjoy it :)

warnings: none? mention of beer? cursing?

It all began when you told John B. that you’d never painted a sunset.

You’d been standing in the kitchen of The Chateau, hands under hot water, scrubbing paint from your most recent artistic shenanigans off of your fingers, palms, wrists, and forearms. John B. stood next to you, back leaning against the counter, looking remarkably similar to the ‘white guy blinking’ gif (y’all know the one) - the epitome of disbelief.

“So let me just recap here,” he said. “You call yourself an artist.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been painting since you were little.”

“Since I was seven, actually.”

“Okay, you’ve been painting for nine years.”

You nod, turning the faucet off. “Yep.”

“And in all that time. In those seven years...” He pauses to hand you a towel, and partially for the dramatic effect. “You’ve never painted a sunset.”

“No,” you laugh. “Why, am I missing out on some cosmic experience?”

“I mean, yeah.” He holds his hands palms-up. “How do you even call yourself an artist if you’ve never done at least one super-cringey painting of a sunset?”

“Um, because I paint other things -”

“Okay, but you’re missing out on a basic artistic revelation -”

The front door shuts, and JJ appears, looking like he usually does: tanned and a little riled up. No hat today, you notice - it’s nice to see his hair, golden and probably really, really soft. Not that you’d know. It’d be nice to know, but - wow. Really off topic here. JJ’s standing in the doorway, looking from you to John B., back to you, to John B., then you again. “Where’s the rest of the group?”

“Pope has scholarship stuff, and Kie and Sarah are helping out at The Wreck,” you answer.

“Oh. Cool.” He looks between you and John B. again. “I’m not interrupting something, am I? Because it kinda feels like I am.”

You and John B. look at each other with the kind of grossed out expression that says ‘No thanks, let’s not think about that ever again, thank you.’

“Yeah, no.” John B. says.

“Not really my type,” you tell JJ.

“Woah, hey, I take offense to that.”

You flick the towel at him with a grin. “I’m not really interested in guys who call me a poser.”

JJ has no idea what you’re talking about, so John B. fills him in: “Dude, she calls herself a painter but she’s never painted a sunset.”

“What? You’re totally posing.”

You groan exaggeratedly. “Not you too.”

“Yeah, sorry, Y/N, but you’re outnumbered here.”

“You’re so right, guys. You’re so right. I’ve been fooling myself this whole time. For seven years.” You shake your head, pretending to be disappointed in yourself.

“Living in total denial,” JJ adds, grinning.

“Oh, no, guys.” John B. fake-gasps, clearly pretending to have found a scientific article on his phone. “WebMD says there’s only one cure.”

“Please, Doctor! I’ll do anything!” You adopt a Trans-Atlantic accent for a second, clasping your hands together and pretending to plead with him.

“Anything?” JJ asks under his breath. You swat his arm playfully, ignoring the way your stomach butterflies when he grins at you.

“Well, Ms. Y/N, it says here that you must paint a sunset by midnight tonight, or else you’re doomed to be an art poser...forever,” John B. explains, his voice dropped to a serious, gravelly tone.

“But Doctor!” You gasp, looking at the time, one hand pressed to your chest in fake astonishment, “Sunset is in two hours! I don’t have time! I promised I would go down to The Wreck and help Kie and Sarah!”

“If it’s to save you from a life of bullshit art galleries and uncomfortable turtlenecks, I’m sure Kie and Sarah won’t mind if I step in for you,” he offers. He clearly is just angling for a reason to spend more time with Sarah, but you don’t mind. Cooking really isn’t your strong suit anyway. JJ snorts at John B., then mouths “SIMP” at you.

You repress a snicker. “But I can’t watch a sunset alone!”

John B. grins. “You won’t have to,” he says. “I know someone who’s not doing anything tonight.”

Both of you turn to look at JJ, who throws his head back and groans. “Fine. But you’re not dragging me into this weird roleplay-pretend-thing.”

So that’s why you’re here. On a boat. At sunset. Sitting next to JJ in a pile of blankets.

You brought the blankets for comfort, a towel for your paints, a canvas for - you guessed it - the actual sunset painting, and a speaker (you have a very specific playlist you like to listen to when you paint; you call it your Paintlist). 

Once you settle in, sitting cross-legged next to JJ, who’s holding a beer and looking at the sunset, you grow quiet. It’s nothing against JJ, you just tend to get really into the zone, with the music and the gentle light of the sun and the breeze over the water and the weight of the brush in your hand of a direct line of energy from your mind to the canvas. Your anxiety, your issues, all concern disappears from sight, and all that is real is the pain on the canvas and the way it makes you feel, breathless and weightless and nonexistent but somehow still so alive.

While you lose yourself in the art, JJ’s losing himself in you. There’s something really memorable about the way you look in the light of the sun: your skin aglow, your eyes sparkling. But the best part is how utterly confident you are now. Even though in conversation you constantly downplay your skills, talking about all the flaws in your technique, when you have a brush in your hand, he can literally watch your insecurity wash away. It’s beautiful.

He’s never noticed that you bite your lip when you concentrate. You’re not even really biting it - it’s more like you’re trying to peel it away, layer by layer. It’s weirdly endearing, seeing you in such an unfiltered state. And even though he knows it’s probably because you’re so in the zone that you’ve forgotten he’s here, he likes to think it’s because you trust him.

He also knows that this may just be the beer talking, but something’s telling him to kiss you.

Pogues don’t mack on pogues, he tries to remind himself, but the thought gets buried when he realizes he’s literally the only pogue not macking on another pogue. Well, that’s one of two, if he’s including you, and of course he is, you’re part of the group now! So really there’s only two of six pogues who are actually following the rule.

Wow. When did he start calling himself a rule-follower? The apple must’ve fallen farther of from the tree than he thought if he’d really just - 

“JJ? You in there?”

He snaps out of it, your voice pulling him from his thoughts, and only then does he realize that he’s probably been staring at you the whole time. You’re looking at him, slightly confused, eyebrows knit together and mouth pursed, and oh god, come on, pogues don’t mack on pogues but does the rule really matter if nobody is following it? “Yep, yep, sorry, what’d I miss?”

You point to the painting, then to the horizon. The sky has gone dark, and the moon is beaming light onto the water. “Sun’s down.”

He nods, then looks at the painting. “Did you finish?”

“That’s what he said,” you mutter under your breath with a smile, scooting over so he can get a better look at the canvas. Your legs are touching, a weirdly intimate thing that you’ll probably remember for months after. “No. Guess I’m doomed to be a poser forever.”

JJ shrugs. “Pretty shitty, bro.”

“I think I’ll survive. And anyway, it’s really just John B. teasing me, so who cares?” You grin at him, but he’s not looking at you anymore, he’s watching the sky with an intense fascination that’s unlike him regularly. “JJ?”

He clears his throat. “Uh, weird question that’s probably not my business, but...”

Your heart swells in your chest, and you feel so concerned. “What?”

“Are you macking on John B.?”

That was not what you were expecting at all. You thought he was going to ask some deep, personal question - but upon review, you realize this is JJ. The chances of him trying to be deep with you are slim-to-none. “No. No no no no no. No.”

JJ still hasn’t looked at you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was blushing. “JJ, no. There isn’t even a snowball’s chance in hell John B. and I would ever mack on each other.”

He nods, but no eye contact still, so you poke his shoulder playfully. “Hey. No John B. on Y/N macking, I promise.”

He finally looks at you. “Dude, never say ‘John B. on Y/N macking’ in front of me ever again.”

You smile. “Yeah, it grossed me out, too.”

It’s becoming cold out, so you reach forward and pull a blanket over yourself. As you and JJ become a little lost in conversation, you notice that he’s shivering a little, so you take initiative and cover him with some blanket, too.

The first thing you notice is that now you’re accidentally pressed right up against him, and dear god, this is nice.

The second thing you notice is that your heart is pounding quickly. It’s been a lot just being here alone with him, and now you’re cuddling under the stars? Magical.

Your heart nearly leaps into your throat when he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer. Your chest is slamming from your rapid heartbeat, and you think you might actually die right here, right now, and wow, that’s a little Romeo and Juliet of you to die in JJ’s arms, and pretty poetic -

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You ask, your voice a little shakier than you’d hoped.

“Chill out a little, okay?”

“Okay.”

No pogues macking on pogues, you think to yourself.

No pogues macking on pogues.

[sheadre]

Aurora Borealis (Jiang Cheng x Reader) Part 7

Summary: Zhu Ran'En (Reader) the imperial princess, was sent into exile for a crime she did not commit. Meeting Jiang Wanyin, the Yunmeng Jiang sect’s leader was not just a chance meeting. Their fates were written in the stars however, her relations to the royal family will never let her live in peace. How will she manage to save the kingdom while trying to keep Jiang Wanyin away from the snakes of the royal family?

Word count: 2688

Warnings: fluff, romance, blood and violence

Previous chapter - Series Masterlist

While you were staying in the infirmary, Jiang Cheng was working busily on repairing the walls and roofs of the buildings and cleaning the lotus pods from blood. You felt useless as you had to stay put for more than a week with your deep wound but you decided to work on your disguise in the meantime. Once the second part of your plans would come to fruition, you had to be prepared. Over the time you were preparing for your exile even back in the palace, you started learning how to disguise yourself so not even those who knew you closely, would recognize you.

After a week, you were let out of your room but you were forbidden to train or part take in any physical activity. Not that you felt like training with how much your wound hurt. So you spent your days sitting in the gardens or mostly spending your time with Jiang Wanyin in his study, helping him sort out papers. Xiao Pei insisted on accompanying you everywhere until he was called back to the capital. His behavior made you sure of his budding feelings for you. It meant problem for you. Besides, after finishing your mission, you were planning on leaving all of it behind and to never look back.

You tried to find anything that was different about your old friend during the time he spent with you but the only thing you noticed was his jealous looks thrown to Jiang Wanyin. If you would’ve been in a different situation you would’ve laughed your head off at both males glaring at each other whenever they met. Xiao Pei made sure to feel himself at home in Yunmeng which you found impolite however, decided against voicing your concerns. You were sure he was doing it to play onto his rank both carrier vise and birth right vise.

Days passed quietly after everything was repaired and taken care of. You were enjoying a late breakfast out in the gardens with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. Sun shone down on you as you chewed on a piece of grape. (fav. fruit) were your favorite but by the time they would reach Yunmeng, they would all go bad. Chatting away with Wei Ying was a daily routine by now besides it was hilarious when he was teasing ‘Lan-Er gege’ as he called Hanguang-Jun playfully making the man’s ears go all red.

Quiet footsteps could be heard approaching the three of you and by the look Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian was giving the newcomer, you deducted that it could be no other than Xiao Pei. None of the others liked your friend from the palace which you could understand in some way. What made you feel uneasy was the fact that you knew a different Xiao Pei, one who would get along with your new friends. You turned to your old friend with a gentle smile on your lips and greeted him.

“Good morning, Xiuxiu” at the old pet name, the general’s ears turned red. Back when you were children, you called him Xiuxiu without a care in the world that all the eunuchs and court officials were gasping in shock at how informal you were addressing one of the royal family members. They expected you to address your sister and cousins by etiquette. After a while you did address them as such but little children usually do not understand the reason behind it when adults try to make them follow the rules. Besides, the emperor was always patient and indulgent when it came to young children. When you became an adolescent though, your grandfather called you to spend lunch with him. From then on, he expected you to call him and everyone as the etiquette stated you should. The emperor was kind and righteous, treating people as they should be treated. He only ever failed to see how evil his own son, the Second Prince was though.

“Good morning, your highness, Hanguang-Jun, Mo gongzi” Pei Xiu nodded towards the two men sitting in your company. To your relief, Wei Ying decided to stay with a polite ‘good morning’. You were expecting your friend to politely ask if he could join but instead, a strange silence engulfed the four of you. You looked at Pei Xiu again with furrowed eyebrows but he was smiling at the other two with a strained expression. Was he trying to will them away with his presence or something? It was not a rule that the lower ranked person should leave once a royal appears and wishes to speak to the one surrounded by the lower ranked men.

You couldn’t take the strange atmosphere anymore so you stood up after wiping your mouth with delicate moves and turned to Pei Xiu. Reaching for his hand, you pulled on it tugging him towards the gardens.

“Come, walk with me, Xiuxiu” you smiled before turning to Hanguang-Jun and Wei Ying. “Thank you for keeping me company! We’ll take our leave now.” You didn’t miss Wei Wuxian’s dumbfounded expression even though you quickly turned back to your old friend.

You had no idea why Xiao Pei was so annoying these days. Back in the palace, he never acted like this or maybe you were not around so many attractive men back then for him to have a competition with. Your mind was racing with questions and theories about his behavior when he stopped you by pulling his hand back. You stopped curious and turned to him questioningly. He was handsome but you never saw him other than your relative or friend. His eyes were staring at you with seriousness, his lips set in a thin line as his jaw clenched.

“Ran’En… you’ve changed much” he said.

“Once you leave the capital, the weather takes a complete change” you replied with a wistful smile. “It is a wonder to me whether I will be able to pick up where I left once I arrive to the capital.”

“Do you miss it? The old days?” Xiao Pei asked stepping closer to you.

“I only miss some people, not the past” you replied. “When will you return to the capital?”

“Will you see me off when I depart?” he asked and you could tell that something in the air shifted. It was filled with hope, oh so much hope for a positive answer to the question lingering inside that much more simple question. You swallowed hard, lowering your gaze from the pond to your feet.

“Xiuxiu… please don’t hold onto feelings that could never see to fruition” you said quietly. “We both know that I either die in the palace or disappear once everything is settled.”

“I’d still love you for the rest of eternity, Ran’En” Xiao Pei answered, his voice trembling before his lips pressed a soft kiss to your temple. When you looked up, you only saw his receding form. You felt your heart break for your friend. You know exactly how it feels to love someone who can never be yours. A tear slid down your cheek while you prayed to the Heavens to grant him a happy ending one day.

However, your worries quickly receded once you could be around Jiang Wanyin again. It made you feel guilty for feeling giddy so quickly when A-Cheng was around, forgetting about your sympathy for your old friend’s heartbreak. It felt wrong yet right at the same time.

Ever since, those words were echoing inside your mind making your heart thump hard in your chest. Xiao Pei’s commitment and loyalty to you was on a completely different level if he could say that he’d love you till he dies and even then. Then there was the sect leader who clearly held your heart. Every glance, every rare smile he gave you, it made your heart race. Feeling how much Wanyin cared for you, you were both grateful and heartbroken. Fate had a cruel way of pushing one party towards the other. Doomed love. You wished you could be what Wanyin deserved but you were not. You accepted a curse but fate decided to make your paths cross just to leave both of you brokenhearted in the end.

Jiang Cheng was your soulmate, you were fated to meet him though fate decided to take him away from you. You’ve already given everything you could for a good cause. You could’ve just walked away after you got exiled but you had to turn back and try to fight. Others would try to distance themselves from the one that could never be theirs but you weren’t that type of person. You were a masochist. You kept stealing glances at Jiang Cheng as the two of you worked in his study. It wasn’t usual for a woman let alone a noble woman to handle financials but you weren’t an average noble woman. The little Ran’En, who was still living inside your heart, loved to go against the rules. Learning mathematics was your way of showing everyone that you won’t stay inside and be pretty.

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on his work, rolling up and rolling out parchments, grabbing books and throwing them on the floor once he found what he was looking for. His purple robes loosened around his neck as he was moving about the study busily, revealing his collarbone, giving you a hint of what was under those robes. Everything… Oh, if you’d get the opportunity to give him everything, you would do so. The sect leader must’ve felt your gaze on him as he lifted his face to look at you. You smiled at him with a mischievous grin making him blush deeply.

“What are you staring at me like that, your highness?!” he asked embarrassedly only resulting in that grin on your face stretching wider.

“Aren’t you a little cold, sect leader?” you pointed at his loose robes. If it was humanly possible, his face grew even more red and quickly turned around fixing his robes. You pouted when he turned back and continued. “I was about to ask if you’d like me to warm the room up for you. It is a shame I had no time.”

“Sometimes I really wonder if you’re an imperial princess” he huffed but his blush was still there. “The amount of shameless things that leave your mouth speaks otherwise!” You were about to stand up and go over with a witty come back when a disciple knocked on the door and entered with urgency. A letter was clutched in his hands and he bowed deeply stretching out his arms towards the sect leader.

“This letter came this morning from the Imperial Palace! The messenger said it was for you, sect leader Jiang!” he announced and you could tell that the poor disciple was trembling slightly. After all, it was not an everyday feat that one could hold a letter from the emperor himself. You stood up and took the letter from him, the young boy tried to protest but a flick of your glowing eyes giving him a look made him shut up. Jiang Cheng dismissed him quickly closing the doors behind him while you opened the letter.

Seeing the intricate, sophisticated look of the characters sent a chill down your spine. Oh, how long it has been since you saw a letter written by the emperor’s right hand man. In a way you felt nostalgic and missed some of the days spent in the court, however, mostly, you despised even just the thought of meeting people there. Skimming through the lines, you grinned happily.

“An invitation for me” Jiang Cheng uttered still quite shocked as he was reading the letter over your shoulder. Feeling his soft breath fan over your jawline sent a shiver down your spine, your heart speeding up in your ribcage. You quickly took a few steps away from him as you turned to him plastering a large smile on your face.

“We have a lot to do before we set off though!” you clapped your hands already having new ideas about what you will spend your days with until taking off. You saw his handsome face look at you with confusion which morphed into dread quickly.

“Etiquette lessons?”

“Etiquette lessons” you grinned at him as you nodded eagerly.

Meanwhile at the Imperial Palace:

The sun was shining warmly over the palace, a lonely figure in light armor and a straight, rigid posture was making their way down the main corridor towards the Second Prince’ residency. Servants bowed deeply to the man walking down that path, most of their faces showing fear or hiding it behind indifference. Once the figure made their way to the large doors of the Second Prince’ study, Lian eunuch gasped at the man’s sight and opened the doors quickly while lowering himself into a deep bow.

“General Pei! Second Prince is inside” the eunuch said but the general was already inside. Xiao Pei waited for the doors to close behind him before he turned to Second Prince. The man was tall and imposing, his shoulders wide and posture rigid as he sat by the table taking the finishing touches on a letter. His dark eyebrows were protruding, casting a deep shadow over his black eyes. His high cheekbones made his cheeks look sunken in like he was slightly underweight.

“Dianxia*” Xiao Pei bowed with an emotionless expression. Ever since Ran’En left a year ago, this general changed so much. He no longer was the righteous general Pei, he was the general Pei who was feared by many both inside and outside of the court. The darkness he was surrounded with came from within. Ever since the princess left, the general became a ruthless warrior yet he still wanted to hide that darkness from her. There was this shame he felt when he thought about how the princess would react if she knew all about his actions. “I have come as you asked.”

“How was your stay in Yunmeng?” the prince set the brush down carefully and folding the letter, he stood up. Second Prince strode over to Xiao Pei with a cold smile on his lips, his eyes glinting with maliciousness. The power this man held was frightening, however, what made him truly terrifying was the fact that he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Biting the hand that fed him for many years in the second he got the chance to grab onto more power and authority.

“It was not how I imagined it would be…” the general replied emotionlessly. Xiao Pei knew he was in dangerous territory as he lowered his gaze. “Jiang Wanyin… if your highness wants to proceed forward successfully, your highness should pay attention to him.”

“Ah, newcomers easily steal the spotlight” the prince chuckled quietly. The general’s jaw clenched at the underlying meaning of that sentence. He knew many people in the court already knew about his gentle feelings towards the princess. He cursed himself for being such an obvious fool. “Unfortunately, the little bird you brought to me haven’t sang her melodies to me.”

“She’s faithful to the princess, she’d rather die than to betray Ran’En” Xiao Pei narrowed his eyes as he avoided the prince’s piercing gaze.

“I have my ways with women” Second Prince winked at the general before he walked to the doors. “His highness the emperor already sent a letter to Jiang Wanyin. Rejoice, general, my niece will soon arrive back to the palace.”

Xiao Pei watched the prince leave before he himself followed suite, his handsome face looking like the stormy sea at night. He now knew how hard it was for Ran’En all on her own in this damned place. He needed to figure out how to take the next step without the Second Prince or Ran’En suspecting anything. Once Ran’En arrives to the palace in whatever form, she will be hard to deceive or avoid her attention. She was too smart.

To be continued…

*Dianxia 殿下 = Your Highness used for those who were princes and princesses by birth. It means below the hall.

[intp-energy]

Why Raelle and Scylla’s relationship works

So I felt like I needed to get this off my chest because of how some people are perceiving and reacting to their relationship right now. This is a long read, so brace yourself. :)

I like their relationship and while some may feel that their story was rushed or that they don’t have chemistry, we’ll have to look at the characters in isolation from each other.

Raelle. We have to remember that Raelle’s mother died just a year ago. She is still grieving and to be able to find someone you connect with and understands what you’re going through is a rare thing for her. To find someone who can make you feel like you want to live and to live everyday is very difficult if you’re grieving so when she found Scylla, she was thrown a lifeline and was given purpose to continue on. That would develop a certain co-dependence, which I think Scylla was really banking on given her initial objective. We also need to understand where Raelle grew up and how she grew up. Her father is human and in their world, that’s something that’s frowned upon. She was most likely considered weird — so again, to find someone as weird [or as sexy weird] as you, is a rare thing and you would want to cherish and protect that relationship. So when it came to the wedding, despite Scylla crashing it (which, yes, may not be proper etiquette - but remember, their world has different rules. Who knew that you’d have to enter into a contract just to keep a man for 5 years? Scylla participated in the wedding and was beside Raelle when the binding took place, so eventually, it kind of wasn’t really a big deal anymore), Raelle was very bleh about the reactions of Abigail and Tally. She was already very angry at the beginning when she couldn’t bring Scylla, would you really think she’ll be worried about what Abigail thought?

A whole lot of people thought Raelle was very selfish and didn’t think about her unit and that her unit should always be her focus. Apart from the reasons I gave above (being so deeply inlove and connected to another person who you would LIVE for; “I like doing everything because of you.”), we have to empathize with Raelle and figure out what she’s feeling. For me, I think before she met Scylla, she’s basically just forced into the institution that killed her mother and has no choice but to comply “I hate to break it to you, beautiful, but there is NO WAY OUT.” That feeling of helplessness will destroy anybody. Heck, she even wanted to go to the front line as soon as possible, had it not been made clear to her that she will be taking Tally and Abigail down with her. She doesn’t want to be there, but she also doesn’t want to be responsible for Tally and Abigail being in danger. She is still innately a healer, so helping others is a calling — just not a strong enough calling for her to want to live for it, but enough to not make her screw things up for her unit.

We’ve also been shown her family tree and it was a very small one. Having a bloodline that short could be very lonely and could make her believe that she was simply meant to just perish like all of her other ancentors. There wasn’t really a point in continuing, 1) she’s gay and will not get pregnant unless she wanted to, 2) she sees being a witch as somewhat of a curse (remember that she has a human dad, meaning she knows what it’s like to have a “normal” life and not be doomed to answer to a call that will come when you’re 18), and 3) if I were her, why would I want my children to suffer the same fate as our family had, I would rather end the bloodline. She is grieving and if you think it’ll take a mere year to get over someone so close to you, then you have a very good coping mechanism, unfortunately, not a lot of people get that because while you may have a good support system, grieving is still a process. She has no one, she only has her father who is grieving with her. It was meant to spiral.

Scylla. I think I’ve made my point about grief and like Raelle, Scylla is grieving. Her parents were killed and unlike Raelle who used depression as a coping mechanism, she used anger. She may very well have joined the Spree because of anger and because she wants to destroy the institution that took her family. If you have no one, yes, it feels lonely, but it also feels like nothing else matters. It feels like this blind hatred and revenge will somehow compensate for the grief and loneliness that you’re feeling. Maybe it’s also meant to dampen that sadness and convert that into something greater, something worth fighting for. She believes, as a dodger (always remember that she’s a dodger, she grew up with different ideals), that witches should have a choice and that choice is taken away because of the accord made hundreds of years ago. She believes that by joining the Spree, she could save the lives of the witches who were killed and hunted (like her family) because they wanted to be free. At this point, I don’t even want to comment on her redemption arc because we don’t even know which deaths she was directly responsible for. And again, I’m not making up excuses for her, but she truly believes in the cause and may believe that she’s saving more lives in the long run than the number of lives the Spree is taking. When I think about Scylla and the bad things she did, I think about Regina Mills, who took how many seasons to get the redemption she deserves. I don’t see why we can’t give Scylla the same. I don’t even want to go into the rabbit hole that is Villanelle and Eve. If you want to define toxic, that’s the pair, but it’s oh so delicious to watch, isn’t it?

I would like to point out that as dodgers, we know that Scylla would have been a social pariah. That was a very lonely way of living and was very self-deprecating; add the loss of her parents and she’s just a mess. As Helen Graves, she told Raelle that she’s weird, spooky, and generally separated from others because of her being a necro. She was very hopeful though because she wanted Raelle to be patient with her as she opens up. And to find someone who is very much willing to do that, that must’ve felt like she struck gold, but here lies the complication. She has a mission and she starts to question this because she’s developed feelings for Raelle. I couldn’t imagine how it must’ve felt for Raelle to include her and make her feel like SHE BELONGS - first, by introducing her to everybody (even at the wedding), and second, by fighting for her. So her reactions to save Raelle from the Spree is very authentic and it horrifies her because by saying I love you (and I choose you), she basically signed her own death sentence or she’s basically accepting the fact that she’ll be living her life running and not belonging. AGAIN. She was prepared to do it, though, so her decision to save Raelle wasn’t rash. She already developed the connection using the spell she did. When she said that it was so that she could say hi wherever Raelle was, she was essentially saying, so that I can keep the connection even while I’m running or being tortured, whichever the case. That must have been really hard on her - saying her last I love you, knowing she might not see Raelle anymore. So we really couldn’t deny that these two love each other deeply.

Their relationship. Okay, yes, it started as a mission for Scylla and desire (or at least an effort to feel alive) for Raelle, but because of the deep connection they have based on the stuff I wrote above, it makes perfect sense how they’re portrayed right now. Scylla is terrified that loving Raelle may harm Raelle in any way or may mean her own death and Raelle is terrified of losing yet another person she loves. These are two very closed off, very scarred, very deeply emotional, grieving people who found each other despite the circumstances. Of course, they’ll be awkward or sometimes it’ll feel like they have no chemistry; well, they’re protecting themselves from getting burned - they’re closed off and being careful. They are, individually, people who’ve been shunned by the world because of their circumstances. They have very different, mostly difficult, situations and upbringing and their priorities weren’t really supposed to be about love. They weren’t expecting it, they don’t know how to deal with it or act around someone who is getting very close to them - it was NEVER in their plans. Of course, it’ll look rushed, we don’t have a lot of episodes in this season. Of course it’s weird because we’re so used to the dynamic of one bubbly person paired with a broody person. It just so happened that they paired two very complex, very introverted (most likely INTP - check out MBTI if you want to know more) characters - and we’re not used to watching that. We’re used to the chase, we’re used to the giddiness, but the reality is that these people went through hell and are both still going through a lot. And the fact that they’re depending on each other in unconventional ways is something that people see as unusual or even boring. If you step back, it’s actually very beautiful and complex. Even the exchange of gifts was seen as creepy and weird, that’s exactly the point, they ARE weird, they ARE people who other people usually misunderstand. And that’s besides the point that, again, this is a different world. Their customs are different, some of the things they’re used to is different. We’ll have to look at their world in their lens to understand it better. So I do hope that before judging the relationship, fans of the show would sit down and really think about what the characters are going through. This isn’t the feel-good movie you want to watch and just not think about. It is very well-thought of in terms of complexity and world building. This is the type of series that will take you away from your current world and your biases and show you a different perspective and an angle you may not have considered before. Give it a chance, open your mind, and take the journey with the characters.

[moodymidnightkitten]

Fateful Encounters Part 3

A/N: I know a lot of you have been waiting on this one for awhile, well I’m really happy I gave myself some time to work on it because it one of the best I think I’ve done. 

W/C:1527

Pairing: Hawks x Reader, Feitan x Reader

Genre: Angst

The area of the city you walked down with Feitan was something you never even knew existed outside of where you currently were living, and it was terrifying, abandoned buildings littered the roads and looked like the rest of the surrounding and thriving surrounding cities wanted to just all together forget this place existed. 

“I can’t imagine you actually live out here, so why did you drag me to this place?” You asked quite rudely, feet hurting from the long walk. The man you’ve just learned whose name is Feitan gave you a said eye but not fully making eye contact. 

“I don’t, but don’t worry you’ll find out why were out here soon enough.” He said, fixing the book he held under his arm and shoved his hands back into his pockets before stopping in front of a building that looked like it was in more disarray than the surrounding buildings. 

“Lets go.” He looked back to you and continued to walk up the steps into the building. You followed in silence because he was clearly not a man of many words. 

You heard talking deep inside the building that was loud enough to resonate down the long dark hallways. It got so dark to a point where you relied on the sound, but to make your situation worse you unluckily tripped, not fully hitting the ground as you felt Feitans arm catch you. You didn’t even know he was so close. 

“Thank you..” 

“Mhmm, try not to be so clumsy.” 

You two continued to walk a bit more down the hall before you saw an illuminated room in the building. And very quickly a man with blonde hair popped his head into the entryway.

“Feitan! Didn’t think you’d actually come, and with a guest?” The blonde haired man in the pink outfit looked at you quizzically as you came to the entryway, where you actually saw twelve others. Who were also now giving you the deathstare. But those weren’t the only eyes you felt on you. And you immediately realized how dangerous the situation you were in really was. 

“Yeah, her name is Y/N, there's something about her that we need to figure out. Where's Chrollo?” And suddenly the blonde haired man pointed up to what looked like an altar and out from the shadows a shirtless man wearing a long jacket and pants walked into the light. 

At this point you felt like you were watching a movie, like you really shouldn’t be here right now. 

“Are you going to introduce her?” said the man who you now know as Chrollo. 

Feitan didn't respond but looked at you like everyone else, you stalled for a second processing everything and how awful everything was and now you had to introduce yourself to all these ominous people like the new kid in school. 

“Oh, uh, my name is Y/N,” you put on a nervous smile and soon enough Chrollo began to introduce everyone. 

“One other is missing, but at the current moment in time that doesn’t matter. Before we get into digging into who you are, I don’t imagine you really know who you’re around, do you?” Chrollo asked, keeping intense eye contact with you.

You shook your head shyly. 

“Well, formally known amongst the people, you’re in the presence of the Phantom Troupe.” 

You felt your heart drop to your feet. Now you understand the feeling of impending doom more clearly. You had a nervous smile plastered on your face and saw Feitan stand a tad closer to you, an odd thing for a man like him to do. 

“So, would you like to share why Feitan brought you here?” Chrollo asked. 

You must’ve spent too much time in your thoughts, you heard his question but you couldn’t seem to formulate the words to explain anything, but you felt Feitan lightly tap your arm, pulling you out of your daze and back into reality, and before you knew it you began to explain everything the best you could about you and your life in this world the past few months. 

Hawks POV

“I’m a nervous wreck Endeavor, it’s been months and we’ve made no progress of finding her, or even remotely getting any answers from the scumbag that, that.. Lost her? Would that be the proper way to ask that?” Hawks asked, pacing the office of the number one hero Endeavor. 

His feathers were fluffed out and practically flying all over the place. Endeavor kept finding himself smacking them out of his face. 

“I can’t tell you to calm down because I understand the situation you’re in, but all I can say is if there's a way for her to get to wherever she is, there's a way that we can probably get her back.” Endeavor tried his hardest to calm down the man he used to consider an absolute pest to him. 

Hawks stopped pacing and plopped himself on the floor of the office, silence resonating throughout the whole place, the sun resting in the mid afternoon sky. Hawks has been so stressed over the situation he’s dedicated more time into getting answers over everything. 

A knock on the door was just what the two heroes needed to break the silence. 

“Come in,” chimed Endeavor. 

And a woman came walking in. 

“Who are you?” Asked Endeavor, Hawks kept his eyes to the ground. 

“My name is Makoto Tsukauchi, I was asked to come because I heard you could use some of my services.” She said, helping herself to an open seat in the office. 

“How so?” Endeavor was the man asking all of the question due to Hawks knowing that he would come off as too much. 

“I heard that your beloved was a victim to a villians quirk and he has answers to your questions, now I can’t directly get you the answers you need, but I know I could help get you on the path to getting them.” She put on a soft smile and looked at Hawks. 

“My quirk allows me to detect when someone is lying or not, and I know it isn’t much but it’ll open doors.” 

Hawks looked at Endeavor with new found hope and then looked at Tsukauchi. 

“So you think we can get her back?” He looked at her and asked in a soft tone. 

“I know we can get her back,” she smiled at Hawks and they got to planning everything they needed to do. 

Your POV

Pretty soon you ran out of breath explaining everything. 

“See, my powers don’t come from your usual powers, I was born with this ability from parents,” you showed them your quirk to work with stars without going overboard. 

And very soon another man popped out of the shadows, studying you. It was nearly startling, like he was there this whole time. 

“Hisoka, glad to see you’ve made it.” Asked the pink haired girl named Machi. 

“There’s no where else I’d rather be, but I’m even more satisfied with coming tonight after being blessed with the graces of this lovely creature in front of me. How interesting indeed.” The clown looking man, Hisoka, said. You would consider it off putting but how much weirder can this night get. 

Chrollo looked from Hisoka and back to you. 

“Interesting, and so you’ve been trying to find your way back home ever since you got here? The determination to do such a thing is admirable given the circumstances. In your world you never knew others planes of life existed did you?” Chrollo asked and you just shook your head no in response.

Although the thought has very obviously occurred before, but its a see it to believe it situation. 

“Then I do have some good news for you,” he put on a small smile on his face. 

“There may be a way back home for you, but as it currently stands only top rated Hunters with insurmountable amount of permission are allowed to explore what they consider the Pandoras box of exploration of other places, so the likelihood of you being able to do anything on your own is next to nothing, but I do have a proposition for you.” He was smiling at you now, and what he was offering to you was something so wildly out of your imagination, but this was the closest to going home that you have. 

You also notice that Feitan is now much closer to you than he was before, it felt protective, and now he was also looking at you, waiting with baited breath at what you were going to say. With a hint of sadness lingering in his eyes, now you felt as though you’re missing something. Is this handsome and permanently angry man hoping for an answer only he wants to hear? Like he doesn’t even want the idea of you leaving to even be an option.

So, do you drop being a hero and become a Phantom Troupe member and be labeled a villain in this life, or do you continue to wait around for Hawks to figure it all out on his own and come and save you?

[arandompostarchive]

SALEM - Ch. 7

SAVED WORK

Summary: In all the centuries of your existence, you had never been dragged out of hiding by another god, put in a superhero team and forced to save the universe. But it seems your luck has run out.

“So, let me get this straight. You, a person known for your cunning and intelligence put the Tesseract, something people have fought and died to get, on a foreign planet known for its bounty hunters and soldiers?”

Loki only shrugged a bit. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Really? It really seemed like a good idea? Hiding it with people who would probably sell it first chance they got?”

“Well when you put it like that—”

“Loki.” He looked directly at you. “We have to get to it before my sister does. If anyone uses it she’ll probably find it somehow. You do know how to get to Kalan, right?

“Of course, except for the major problem. We have no way to get there.”

You smiled. “Oh, that’s not a problem. I mean, Tony has to have the Quinjet prototypes somewhere right?”

He frowned, “I believe the reason they are ‘prototypes’ is because they didn’t work.”

“Exactly! It’ll take Tony a lot less time to notice. Though I’m pretty sure most of them are scrapped, there’s gotta be at least one that actually flies.”

He sat down on your couch. There was a small pad of paper on the table in front of it, your messy handwriting all over it. Some ideas were circled or underlined, all in dark ink. At least you were thinking this one through, even if there were a few flaws. He’d never admit it, but he’d prefer to have the team’s help with this. But with how slow they were going to even acknowledge the fact that there’s a serious threat… you may not have much of a choice.

“Alright. You find a ship, I’ll gather supplies. If you say you’re willing to watch me, they’ll probably leave us alone for a few hours. Then we can leave.”

“That’s the spirit!”

You smiled at him. It was nice to be there heroes for once. Both of you. Lies and darkness teaming up to save the day? Talk about rare.

Admittedly, you were nervous. Kalan was a planet full of trained soldiers. What they were training for was never exactly clear. They were anticipating a war that didn’t exist yet. Unfortunately, that made for very jumpy Generals. People who’d shoot at anything without an army badge. Although, part of the planet was known for its bounty hunters. They steered clear of the soldiers and even got a few insiders to steal from the armies. Not fun.

Either you try to steal an extremely valuable object from people known for being expert thieves, or steal from an army who wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through your head. It might not kill you, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell.

That left one question, which side should you start with?

Loki stood up, “I’ll see if my brother will help, you find the ship and speak with you teammates. As much as I hate to say it, you should probably leave a note behind. Just in case.”

You nodded. Of course, you had no intention of losing any sort of fight but he had a point. Just in case.

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” He smiled sadly before leaving the room. He had a point. It just wasn’t a point you wanted to think about.

You sunk down into the couch and grabbed your pad of paper. You tore away some of your ideas and scribbled down a small note. After searching for probably twenty minutes you managed to find an envelope and stuff the letter in. You wrote a small message on the front.

“Hi Tony. If I’m not back in exactly two weeks, open this envelope. I know you’ll probably open this before that anyway, but I’ve never asked for anything. Just do this. Please.

-Y/n

Ps, I really do need a nickname, huh?”

You weren’t sure if that would work. Maybe he’d wait. Just in case, you didn’t give him enough info to find you. Just in case he tried before two week were up. It probably wouldn’t take that long, but better safe than sorry. You left the note on the table in front of your couch. He’d probably come to your room first after he found you missing, so that guaranteed he’d find it after you were long gone.

Now to find that prototype.

Tony had a garage, he’d keep most of his cars in there, but he needed somewhere to keep it right? You knew he had a small space to work on the cars, improve them. And if you had a prototype, that’s where you’d keep it.

Getting into the garage was a slight issue. Tony didn’t like just anyone strolling in and messing with his stuff (He’d decided that after someone spray painted one of his cars). Whoops.

Obviously Tony gave himself access, along with Bruce. He was probably one of the more responsible Avengers, and Tony trusted him with that sort of technology. That and Bruce helped out once in a while.

Since Tony would most definitely not let you in, you opted for Bruce.

You (unsurprisingly) found him in the lab working on something or other. It was fairly safe to assume that Tony used some sort of key card, which means in would probably be in his pocket.

Great.

“Hey Bruce, I really like that shirt, by the way.

He turned around and smiled, “Oh hey! Wait. What do you want?”

He stopped working on whatever it was, it looked like a phone or something.

“Can’t I just compliment my friends because I feel like it?”

He sighed, “Well of course you can, but it usually means you want something.”

“Really, this time I don’t want anything. What are you working on?”

He clearly didn’t believe you, but he turned back to his project. “It’s a tracker Steve wanted me to work on. He’s thinking of trying to find that Ker woman and track whatever energy she’s putting off. But it’s kinda hard to do without having any of that ‘energy’.”

You nodded along, slowly slipping your hand into his lab coat pocket. He didn’t seem to notice.

Damn it. Wrong pocket.

You moved to his other side.

“Does Steve really think he can take her? I mean, Loki was losing when we got there.” You slipped your hand into his other pocket. Definitely a key card.

“I think we’ve got a good chance. Besides, all we know is that Loki doesn’t like her and that ‘Doom is rising’ which basically tells us nothing. And uh, it’s not like we were given a time frame. What can we do really? I doubt Loki would ever tell us the truth. He might want to save the Earth for whatever reason, but it’s a pretty good way to get rid of us.”

You nodded slightly. You knew when Loki lied. Granted, it wasn’t exactly easy, but you’d gotten fairly good at it.

You grabbed the card and glance down quickly. A small ‘A’ was on it. You slipped it into your own pocket before responding.

“Yeah well, hopefully he’s right. Anyway, see you later!” You walked out of the room leaving a confused Bruce behind.

You immediately went to the elevator and scanned in Bruce’s card.

It started going down and eventually opened into Tony’’s garage. You walked across and opened a back room. It had a large door that led outside along with a few cars and ships. Well, that explains why his garage is so big. You always assumed that was Tony being Tony.

You ran to one of the ships, it definitely wasn’t perfect. The outside had some chipped paint, but there was a key card next to it. Seems like Tony didn’t always have the same security he has now.

You opened the garage door that led outside. Tony was upstairs and probably wouldn’t be out of his lab for a few hours. It would be a while before anyone noticed. Perfect.

You left Bruce’s card on one of Tony’s work stations and stuffed the ship’s key card in your pocket.

Now it was just a matter of talking to Tony.

***

Tony wasn’t difficult to find. He was in his lab talking to Peter about something or other.

“Hey Tony, Pete. How are you?” You sat down on a stool across from them and they looked up. It seemed like they were working on the other half of Bruce’s tracker.

“Well if it isn’t the Maleficent herself.” Tony smiled.

“Maleficent, huh?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I’m not crazy about it. We’ll get there.”

You smiled. “Hey, I did want to mention. It seems like I’m the only one up for watching Loki, I’m okay with doing it for a while.”

He smiled, “Alright then, taking one for the team.” Peter had a small smile on his face.

“Also, Tony?” He cocked his head to the side slightly.

“I guess, well. I got a little existential today, so if anything ever happens to me, I’m really glad we could be friends. You too Peter.” You smiled, resting your hand on Peter’s shoulder for a second.

“Well okay.” Tony said. “A little random but I’m glad we’re friends too? Any particular reason or are we just worried about the apocalypse?”

“No, no reason. Just introspective I guess. I’ll see you later.” You walked out of the lab. Peter looked over his shoulder and smiled. You smiled back.

***

“Okay, you got supplies and weapons, I got a ship. Ready to go?”

Loki nodded, walking through garage with you. “You did talk to your teammates, correct? It would be much more helpful if they didn’t try to follow us half-way across the universe.”

You nodded, “Yeah. I mentioned it to Tony. Unless there’s a mission he probably won’t check in for a bit.”

You reached the ship pretty quickly and climbed in, dropping the two bags full or mostly weaponry on the ground.

“So, what do you think? Tony must’ve made it years ago.” Loki looked around. It really wasn’t a bad ship. Almost identical to the Quinjet, even if it was a bit smaller. You sat down in the pilot’s seat, Clint would flip.

You took the key card out of your pocket and put it in a small slot next to your chair. You knew most of the controls from watching Clint. Until he told you to leave so he could focus.

You started it up, get yourself out of the garage and into the air. You take off was a little rocky, but hey, at least you know it flies.

“Um, C-Y/n, I mean. You do actually know how to fly this, correct?”

You shrugged. “I mean, it can’t be that hard, right?”

Loki rolled his eyes and sat down next to you. “Let me help, at least I know where we’re going.”

“Fair enough.”

***

Traveling through space was nothing like you remembered. Olympus was a bit like Asgard. There are easier ways to get there, but space travel would probably work. Tartarus on the other hand was a little harder to access. The Tesseract would hopefully help with that. But for now, Loki was steering your towards Kalan. You had never really been there yourself, but he said it wasn’t too far.

He was right. It wasn’t long before Loki found a fairly safe place to land. (He really couldn’t drive the ship much better than you, but that might just be the ship itself)

It was on a hill past any sort of town. Looking out of the window you could see lights in the distance. It was dark, a purple sky and dark plants covered some of your view. There was some light smoke from some sort of fire. Loki opened up the door and you grabbed the key card, putting it in your pocket and stepped out behind Loki.

There were plants on the ground, it felt like grass but much softer. There was light from a moon behind you. You could see two other moons behind it, but they didn’t give off the same blue hue.

It was beautiful. The small town with curling smoke was in front of you, and when you turned around you could see other lights in the distance. They were more organized. The spaces between each of them looked exactly the same.

“You should grab a weapon, Y/n. Just to be safe.” You nodded and walked back onto the ship. You knew your way around a gun, that’s for sure, but you were much more old school.

Loki had grabbed a few of your weapons, likely from your room. You had no doubt Thor showed him where it was, good to see he was helping you, even if he wouldn’t come with.

One of your main weapons was a scythe. Part of it folded into a smaller staff about the size of your forearm with a blade on one side and a handle on the other. It was sort of hard to handle at first, but you liked it. Granted, you still had a long way to go. You only picked up weaponry a year ago. Magic was much easier.

But still, a physical weapon was nice.

“Your choice, Y/n.” You looked up at Loki. “We can try the bounty hunters or the soldiers. I know not where it went, just that it is here.”

“You sure you should leave this up to me? If we got to the bounty hunter, we’ll have to steal it, if it’s even there. If we go to the soldiers, we’ll have to find a way to get into their base without fighting everyone off.” Talk about a rock and a hard place.

“Yes, neither option is ideal. We could always try getting to Tartarus without it?”

You shook your head, “No. That’d take a hell of a lot longer. And we’d have to think of an easy way out. Not happening.”

You sat down in the grass, sighing lightly at the soft feeling beneath your hand.

“Okay then. Let’s try the soldiers. If it’s not there, they probably have more technology for us to locate it. Let’s go.” You stood up and closed the ship before you started down the hill to the much more organized lights. “We’re going to have to find a way in. You can shape shift and I’ll try and find some sort of disguise.” Loki nodded and started down the hill after you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t silently praying that it was there somewhere. But things are rarely easy, huh?

***

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/80238334

Chapter 69

That night, Nick stayed with James. He needed a place to cry his heart out, and James' shoulders were very comfortable. The other man solaced him with soft words and with soft hands that stroked not only his back, but also his heart. He told James he wanted to keep a clear head, what he had sort of promised to Birdie, what Virgil probably would've liked too. “You're with me”,  James assured him. “I'll take care of you, don't you worry. Besides, what's so bad about one drink?” Nick hesitated. “You'll make sure I don't mess anything up tonight?” “I will”, James said with the most comforting smile. Nick blushed. The other man was so charming, he reminded him of someone else. He just couldn't figure out who. Was it Virgil? The manager could be charming whenever he wanted, but most of the time he had rather wanted to push Nick further. James was so relaxed. He made him feel that everything would be alright, that he didn't need to hurry, and most of all, not to worry.

“Uncle Jack”, Nick whispered on the spur of the moment. James lifted his eyebrows. “You remind me of Uncle Jack”, Nick explained. James' features eased again. “Am I like an uncle to you?” Nick mused. “More like...a father...” James expression was unreadable. “Not that I know...”, Nick corrected himself, “I never had a father.” The memory just came back. “He was drafted for the war and never came back...I don't even remember what he looked like...” “I'm sorry...”, James said as if he could empathize. “I don't want to complain. My mother was good to me, perhaps even too good...She gave me everything. She spent her savings on buying me a guitar...” “Well, it wasn't in vain”, James pointed out. “I'm sure you made her proud.” “I hope so...” Nick ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know what happened to her...God, I can't remember...!” The other man gently pressed Nick's head against his chest. “The odds are that you will...” “Really?” Nick doubted it. “Think of everything you remembered since you're taking my Joy...You were sure you lost all this, right? But it's still there, in your pretty head.” James' finger poked him. Nick pondered. “I can't wait to recall my entire life again. I don't feel like a whole person. I'm just a little part of myself...It's just so sad how many people I knew and loved are gone...I wonder who's gonna be left...” “You won't be alone, Nick.” Nick looked at James, smiled and accepted the drink. It was pitch black, but with a compelling taste. The night continued, peacefully and in intimate togetherness. Nick drank more and his mind became blurry.

He awoke in a big, soft bed. Can't I stay in here forever, he thought. There's no better place in the world than a comfy bed. Well, perhaps with one exception, he noticed, looking at the empty space next to him. A better place would be in someone's arms. But there's no time to dwell on the past, he told himself. Your band is waiting and you have to face this out together. In the last moment he remembered he had put the blanket over them and now he wondered if they were awake already. Sitting up, the world around him changed it's appearance. Instead of in his own bedroom, where he thought he had gone to sleep, he was in the Wonderland Suite. There was no doubt, the windows told him it wasn't the tunnel suite. Sighing, he fell back into his bed. Not again! He was so done with his foggy head. Now, figuring out how he ended up here was such a stressful thing to do, especially in the mornings. And most of the time it didn't work out anyway, so he could just as well give up already.

His friends...well, for some reason he was sure they were save. Did he make it up with them? He listened to his inner voice. It seemed like it. He felt that he didn't have to hurry, he could have a good breakfast first and then walk back. It was a feeling he enjoyed very much. His stomach was all relaxed, except for the fact that it signalized hunger and his brain cried for coffee. All in all, nothing he could not take care of by himself. Walking along the corridor to the lounge, a thought popped up in his mind, shortly. The bills...who would pay them now? But his feeling once more assured him, he didn't have to worry. Nick was sure he wouldn't feel like this if there wasn't at least a little bit of truth behind it. Perhaps that was why he had passed out, because he had celebrated finding the solution to all his problems. The thought made him chuckle. He had no trouble giving the hotel boys a most exuberant smile and watching them having to greet him.

Looking forward to the sumptuous buffet, he entered the lounge. After picking a table and ordering coffee, he fetched his favourites from the buffet. While he was engaged in this, his gaze caught a familiar figure at a table further away. Birdie had pinned up her hair into a glorious structure of curls. She was doing great so far without Virgil, he thought. Putting his food down, he made his way to her table, wondering how she'd react after they had poured out their hearts to each other. Would she be embarrassed? Birdie noticed him when he came closer and her expression was friendly. “Good morning, Miss Callagher”, he greeted her. “Please, it's Birdie”, she said. “Alright, Birdie.” “Good morning, Nick”, she returned the greet. “Hey, I didn't mean to bother, I just saw you there and I thought I'll come over before you leave.” “Oh, it's fine. Join me, if you like. Or did you eat yet?” “No, I was getting started.” He pointed at his table. “I'll migrate.” She giggled. “Okay.” Soon, he sat with her and the waiter served his coffee.

“Finally”, Nick grabbed the cup. “Can't start the day without it.” “You're up early today”, she said. “Really?” Nick wondered how she knew how long he used to sleep. Was it so obvious? “What time is it, even?” “Only seven in the morning.” “What? What am I doing here in the middle of the night?” He shook his head. “Being hungry, perhaps.” “Right, that must be it.” He looked at her. “Are you always up that early?” “Uh-hu”, she said nodding. “Gosh, Virgil must've tortured you.” She stirred her yoghurt. “I've always been a morning person.” “Oh...”. He fell quiet, sorry that he had accused Virgil. Birdie eyed him.  “How are you doing?” Nick sighed. “I'm afraid my plan of keeping my head clear...It didn't quite work out.” “You had an awful day, huh?” “Uh...actually I don't know...I must've done something right because I feel...I feel like my band is okay...” He put down the cup. “I sound ridiculous, right?” “No, I don't think so”, she replied. “Perhaps you only had too much Joy and you'll recall everything soon. Is your band here too?” Nick pondered, picking up a piece of filled pastry. “No, I'm sure they're at my place.” Suddenly, he had to smile. “They're still with me.” “I've read your reunion story...it was in the newspaper.” Nick pricked up his ears. Arthur's article...they had been sitting here, in this lounge, creating it together. Back then he had been careful not to say too much about Morrie. But despite the lies, it had been a good story.

“You did all that by yourself, without any professional businessman's help.” Was it a comment or a question? The way she said it, it could've been both. “I was also lucky...”, Nick answered. “I needed so much time to figure out what I wanted...and who I needed. I recovered my old band out of luck. And if they hadn't gone along with me the project would've been doomed from the start.” “Is it really the same band you had with 16?” “Yeah, the original Make Believes and also the best.” “Wow,” Birdie swooned and leaned back. “I had a band once when I was in school, but we parted ways afterwards. I was the only one who wanted to make music for a living.” “Well, you made it all by yourself,” Nick complimented her. “And by Virgil...”, she added. “He only gave you the finishing touch.” “You're being sweet again.” “If you say so.” She laughed. “You think you can introduce them to me?” “Sure.” Then he held up a finger. “But don't even try. They're mine.” “I know. Do you think I would...?” “I was only joking”, Nick backed away. “Oh.” She giggled. “If they want to leave me for you, that's their decision.” “Come on, you're life-long friends! Cheer up a bit!” She punched his shoulder. “Yeah, you're right...I'm such a whinger this morning.” He shook his head. “That's why I shouldn't get up early.” “Just eat more, you're all pale.” Nick touched his cheek. “Am I?” “Yeah, it's hard to see where the mask ends.” She shoved his plate closer to him. He started to eat.

“I'm only talking about myself, how are you doing?”, he asked after a while. “I guess I'll be fine. I went to Hackney's, because his fancy creations always cheer me up and he told me about a manager who's looking for a new star. Also, I have a few requests from people and if they're not all bodgers I might try my luck with one of them. They wouldn't be Virgil, but...life goes on.” Nick nodded. “Looks like you'll make it.” “It won't hurt to try.” “I'll keep my fingers crossed.” He looked at her. “Thank you”, She said smiling. “And you? Do you have anything in view?” “No requests, I'm sure of it. Who would want me anyway?”, he said jokingly. “Now come on, the Golden God! Who would not want you?” “I'm a life task”, he assured her. “Getting me out of bed and on stage, making me remember the gigs, the songs, the chords and then getting me back home in one piece...I need someone enduring.” “Or someone assertive”, she chuckled. “Looks like General Byng is the right one for you.” “Oh, please no!” She laughed. “Oh, yes! I'll send him a message if you're too shy.” “How could you do this to me?” “I only want to help.” “You want to torture me until the end of my days!” “Well, maybe.” “This is what I get for being sweet...”, Nick lamented. “I better get back to bed and forget this happened.” “Aww, and I was so looking forward to solve your problem.” “You can take him. He'll like you more than me, I'm sure of it.” “But I'm a good girl, I don't need a general to push me around.” “Are you sure, Miss I'll-take-another-round?” “Now you're being petty!”, she played shocked. “I wonder if the general would approve.” They burst into laughter, what made the other guests look at them and screw up their noses.

Nick finished his breakfast and felt how he regained his strength, not only because of the food. “You're looking much better now”, Birdie commented. “Even better? How is that possible?” “Supercilious oaf”, she muttered. “What was that?” “Confident as always, our Nicky”, she said with the silkiest smile. “And miss Birdie never minces her words”, he said with a little bow. “I wish I could stay”, she sighed happily, “but I already have an appointment with one of my hopefully future managers.” “Good luck with that”, Nick answered. “I go see what my friends are really doing and make them presentable for a lady like you.” “Good luck with that, too”, she said laughing. “I'll need it.”

Nick left the hotel in a much better mood and stopped by his statue to say a few words to the manager he still missed. “Hey, Virgil”, he whispered. “I feel like everything will turn out alright, at least with the band. I hope I'm not wrong. That doesn't mean you'll ever be replaced.” More thoughtfully, he stepped closer to the statue, eyeing it's arms, as if there was something he should see. “If you could tell me what happened...give me a sign...please try...I'm groping in the dark here. You knew something, right? And that...killed you. It's so unfair.” More pensive, he turned away from the memorial and started to descend the stairs. “I'll be back”, he promised.

The day was nonetheless pretty. The sun was shining and even though the cold breeze told him it was undoubtedly autumn, the air was so clear that Nick felt like he could breathe freely again in a long time. The blue sky only had a few clouds scattered over it. He actually froze in his tracks to watch the sky. It was strange to see it being only blue, after it had been a bright kaleidoscope of colours for him most of the time. It was just a simple blue, but he found it pretty. It was so pure, so calm. It made him consider that maybe the good times weren't over yet. That there could be more.

Coming home, he figured that Constable Hunt likely thought the same, because he acted rather cheerfully. “Is everything alright?”, Nick asked the usually wary man. “Right as rain, sir, right as rain. Not that there is any rain.” He laughed. “The band still inside?”, Nick went on, fingers crossed. “Sure, nobody left the house today and I'm certain they're having a jolly good time.” “Okay...Anything else happening today?” “No, nothing worth the mention yet”, his happy Constable assured him. “Besides...I'd really like to try that Constable Rossetti's wife's cake.” Nick had nothing smart to say to that. Perhaps everything was simply alright this time, and why should it not be? He had really turned mistrusting in the past few days, perhaps it was time to move on. Inside, he heard his friends' happy chattering from the living room and joined up with them, smiling widely. “Hey, lads, how are you doing?” He froze when he saw who they had gathered around. “Nicky, you've been out for so long, I hope you've been good?”, Chris asked, half jokingly and half seriously. All eyes were on Nick now. “Or else you'll have to confess to our new manager”, Matt added, gesturing towards the man in their middle with a nod of his head. “New manager...”, Nick muttered. “You consulted me yourself, don't you remember, Nick?”, James said, giving him a wink. “I'm the substitute, as long as Mr. Dainty is recovering on holiday.” “Oh...well, I actually did...”, Nick was still struggling to understand. “Whoa, really? I'm sorry Nick, I thought you were screwing us over again,” Chris blurted out. “Me too...well...I wasn't sure...”, Matt said. “Why didn't you tell us?” They gathered around him now. “Because...because it was meant to be a surprise”, Nick played on. He received cheers and shoulder pats, but he only had eyes for James. “Now that this is settled, may I ask where you keep your documents? I'm sure they badly need a review”, James wanted to know. “Any new bills, Nicky?”, Brad added playfully. “Er...not yet, I think...”, Nick stuttered.

The cheerful band moved apart to free Nick, who then went to show James the way to the improvised office Virgil had established in a guest room. “This is it...uh...it might be a bit unorganised by now...” Nick found unopened letters on the desk and the blower was full of messages. “They could be fan mails though...” “It's fine, I can read my way through them”, James calmed him down. Nick watched him picking up the letters. He was still stunned. James noticed his eyes on him and locked gazes with his friend and protégé. “I'm sorry I caught you off-guard”, he said empathically. “I hope you don't mind having me as your manager, or at least as an assistance until you find a new manager you like.” Nick shook his head. “No, I don't mind...I want you around...” He blinked. “I just can't cope...First it looked like everything was falling apart and fate hated me but now so many good things happen to me all at once and I...I don't know how to feel...” He blinked again and a single tear ran down his cheek. James offered him a hug that Nick thankfully accepted.

The night was cold, but Nick didn't freeze. His new manager had taken him to a stroll and he followed the other man loyally. Jack was glad about the progress the boy had made. His trust into his mentor was unabated, even after the last events, when they had faced a little bit of trouble. Jack figured he still had to learn how to treat Nick's peaceable nature, but also with him, the boy was forgiving. So, the mentor's trust in Nick was just as unabated. Their stroll went peacefully, too. Jack had no certain target this time, he only wanted to spend time with Nicky and to see how he'd react all by himself. Nick had taken his hand as soon as they had left the town with all it's security devices. He seemed to like it more outside and Jack could understand him. What had surprised him was how well he got along in the Garden District. He knew many of the plants he most likely never saw in town, he knew what to use them for and he recalled certain places. “How do you know all this?”, Jack had asked him once. “Arthur told me”, Nick had told him, and his expression had turned lovingly. “He went into the Garden District with you?”, Jack had wondered. Nick had nodded proudly. “What were you doing in there?” Jack had been curious about the Downer's plans. “Oh...you know...”, Nick had giggled. “What lovers do.” “Didn't he know it was dangerous to go there?” “Not for him”, Nick had been certain. “He can defend himself.” Then Nick had given him a sheepish grin. “He taught me a few things...”

Jack had noticed with pleasure how Nick's anxiety against attackers had waned. Fighting had never been Jack's main goal, he used to hide in the shadows, or the very practical fog and took his victims by surprise. But Nick couldn't do that yet. However, he could fight back, and Jack could use that to his advantage. Or, he could simply use it to go for a nice walk with his friend without having to worry that he might get hurt.   Nick's pace became faster, and he seemed to eagerly pull at Jack's hand. “What's the hurry, my friend?”, Jack asked in an amused tone. “I want to show you something,” Nick explained, proving once more that he knew his way around. Jack gladly let him take the lead. It was funny how even the Wastrels went to bed at curfew like ordinary Wellies would do. The few plough boys claimed the place at night and Jack was mostly free to go wherever he wanted. Nick avoided them with confidence and guided his mentor into a forest, where it went darker. “Oh, spooky”, Jack said, facing Nick with his red eyes. Their glow was easier to see now that it was darker. Nick's irises were shimmering slightly. Their green rather turned into an orange. For now, that was. “We have to cross through this”, his protégé told him. “I know the way.” “Can you see in here?” Jack wondered if Blackberry Joy granted him night vision. “A little”, Nick admitted. “But we're almost there.” His look was begging. “Go on then, but be careful.” They went through the woods that Nick crossed just as certainly than he had crossed the ruins. When he began to pull at his hand more, Jack knew they were reaching their destiny. He was filled with tension.

“There”, Nick swooned, pointing forward. They had reached the coastal cliff, and from up above they could see the wide ocean that surrounded the little holms of Wellington Wells, keeping them apart from the rest of the world. It lay in darkness. The few stars that had managed to break through the clouds reflected in the waves, showing how the water was steadily moving. “Isn't it beautiful?” Jack had to admit this place had it's beauty. It was also a very romantic scene. “Did Arthur show you this?” “Yes”, Nick answered with a melancholic smile. Jack was moved. He put an arm around the boy, comforting him while they watched the waves swell. He could barely see where the water ended and the sky began. “You're right. It's beautiful.” Nick lifted up his head and eyed him, like asking a silent question. Jack's hand fondled Nick's back. He assumed he knew what the boy  was asking. Looking down to Nick, he began to stroke his cheek. Then he pulled him into a tighter embrace. Nick seemed to put up with it, leaning into the hug and remaining silent. Jack decided they would spend the night in peace this time. He could grant the boy a break and give him some time to show his affection. And perhaps even Jack needed a break himself. He sat down and Nick went along, clutching him.

Jack thought it was one of the best nights in his life, just being here, enjoying their closeness. Nick seemed to be happy, too. One time, he picked up a stone from the ground and tossed it down the cliff. They listened closely. “I can't hear it land”, Nick whispered. “That's because it fell very, very deep.” Nick eyed the ocean. “Can you swim?” “Oh...I remember swimming, so I guess I can...” Jack was taken aback by memories. “I think I can't”, Nick said regretfully and pulled out a stalk of grass. “If we could swim, we could get out of here, let all this behind us.” “But Nick, where would you go?” “I don't know”, the boy said pouting. “Somewhere nice. What about a desert island, only for us two? No haters, no critics, only us and the coconut palms.” Jack had to smile at that. “You mean, like going on holiday?” “Yeah, why can't we go for once?” “Because we're not done yet, my friend.” He patted Nick's back. “We can still have so much fun here. You won't be bored, trust me.” “We'll have fun?” “Yes. A lot”, Jack said firmly. “Can you teach me how to swim?” “Sure...” Nick stretched himself and put his cheek against his mentor's. They stayed like this for a while, an uncertain hug.

Sadly, also this night passed, like every other, and they had to go back. The walk though the forest was easier now, since it was a little bit lighter, and Jack too knew the way. Outside, Nick was avoiding the guards again, except for that one time when he suddenly went astray, letting go the hand of his mentor and protector and leaving in a fast pace. “Nick?”, Jack hissed, startled and angry. He had allowed himself to dwell in thoughts, living the moment and seemingly his protégé had made use of that. Had he lied about his affection? “Nick, come back! This is not the time to play hide and seek!” He followed the defiant brat and next to a ruin a made a find. Nick looked at him with wide eyes, apologizing. He knelt in the grass, keeping company with the body of a Wastrel. Nick's knife had already left it's marks in the bare, skinny chest. Jack couldn't tell how much life had been in the man when Nick found him. But it didn't matter. Touched once more, Jack kneeled down himself, looking lovingly at Nick and watching him do his delicate work from a distance. If he was a father for him, he was a very proud one.

Memories overwhelmed him again. Happy moments he had with his family. Moments he didn't know they would be the last memories he'll have of them. They were so far away now. It had been another life, another self. Now he was reclaiming a little bit of his old life back. He was watching Nicky just the way he would've watched his little Margaret building a sand castle. Or crafting one of her dolls. Even though she made most of them in secret. But she often came and proudly presented her work. She had been so talented! Perhaps she would've found her way around in Germany... Jack gasped. Oh, glorious Blackberry wisdom, you never grant me oblivion... “James?”, Nick approached him carefully. Jack looked up to him, struggling to smile. “You did well, my boy.” He now saw that Nick held out a blood-tripping heart. “This is for you.” Jack was baffled. He let Nick put the heart into his shivering hands. After looking at it for a while in silence, he broke out in tears.

[daredevile]

A Second Here Another Gone

Summary: Blinded by the sweet raptures of a new relationship, Bucky lowers his guard around you - unaware of the real reason you found him.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of blood, bit of violence and one swear word

A/N: Hey! I know it’s been over two months since I posted something and I’m sorry! I was working on so many oneshots and never finished one until now. But, I promise I will try to update somewhat regularly from now on! Anyway, this one’s for Ayesha’s [ @browngirlmagic ​] writing challenge and my prompt was ‘Echo’. Please reblog if you like it! :)

An angry crimson. A so-called scarlet elixir of the living trickles from its hearth beneath as if screaming a symbol of horror and impending doom. It surrenders with grace and elegance - a droplet of fresh blood tainting pristine white floors, smearing the Parthenon of life and death with an intensity of wrath and violence and -

"Hey." The sombre tone in his voice draws you into his weary stature. It looks worse than he'd assured over the phone. Raging clusters of purple and blue spread across his arms, broken lip, black eye, his jaw cast a scarlet tint. Not to mention the slight limp he'd tried masking from your stares.

"Thanks for coming so fast. Would've driven myself but..." He motions to the cast around his right arm, a light pink dusting over his cheeks. A nurse approaches him with a sympathetic expression, repeating a list of instructions and medication requirements for a quick recovery. Though you know Bucky's not following a word she's saying - she must've realised it too - giving you a moment for any questions before returning to her station.

The conversation in the car is non-existent, only a couple of instinctive glances towards the rear-view mirror to gauge each other's emotions. Soft tunes twirl in the background, Bucky lowers the volume with a grunt as his muscles sting with the movement. A sigh escapes from his lips, he angles himself towards your concentrated form but, you refuse to meet his gaze.

"Y'know it's not as bad as it looks. Should've seen the other guy." He says with a constrained laugh. An honest attempt to relieve the tensed wind and the crease between your eyebrows, alas, it fails its purpose. He sinks back into the cushioned seat, lingering his eyes over the neon streaks of passing vehicles.

The road seems never-ending, both sides merely converging at a distant imaginary point ahead. The traffic dissolves and scatters into several busy paths as Bucky directs you through far too many left and right turns before arriving at a rather calm and vacant neighbourhood.

Once the engines lull back into a soft purr, you open the passenger door and gently grasp his arms as he lifts himself from the seat. He releases a breath in relief, thankful your silence is replaced by concern. The two flights of stairs is another journey on its own, exchanging mumbles of apologies and groans, even the close proximity of him curves past your thoughts.

Bucky stumbles into his apartment, careful to avoid the loose floorboard right at the entrance - pushing a horrible reminder to the back of his mind - and you follow his footing. A chuckle from him pulls your attention, determined he's capable on his own, he leans away from your hold, mentioning something about taking a shower before retreating into the furthest room.

His house is spotless, every single object kept in a place for swift and efficient access. Somehow he'd made a rather confined area appear more spacious. You notice how foreign and hostile he maintained his home - a supposed personal bubble. His belongings danced around the hazy line between bare essentials and other items. Almost as if he was caught in the process of moving in or ready to move out within a matter of minutes.

A sharp buzz from your phone stops you from observing the rest of the apartment. Without sparing a glimpse at the caller, you swipe the green button. An instant thrust of shouting greets you, attacking your senses with great vigour. And it's patience, you've learned, an offensive strategy to appease the monster into a human you could better tolerate.

"I need time." It's not forceful, however, lacking a timbre of the usual intensity your words uphold. The shouting continues, each syllable seething with fury, demanding more answers while your fist clenches at the vulgar threats he hurls from the other end.

"I need more time."

There's dead silence on both ends. And for a second, you believe that he's accepted the command. As fast as it'd ignited, the little spark of surprise disintegrates when his deep laughter is all that's pounding in your ears.

"You're here!" Bucky says, grinning as he spots you in the balcony, "Thought you left me alone."

His sudden appearance turns your blood cold and you can feel the precise second your heart trips over a beat, shoving the phone back into your pocket. His smile drops, immediately regretting how he entered as soon as he saw the pained expression written all over your features. He sighs when your eyes witness the red wounds and scars - some more jarring than others - scattered across his body.

"Look, I know this isn't a good impression. I don't want you to see me like this, trust me, I wouldn't have called if I had - " A pause. Hesitant as he swallows back the words. "Anyone else."

"I'm sorry, Bucky. This is all just... difficult." He nods, fumbling with the loose bandage tied to his other arm. A smile tugs on your lips at his frustration, you grab the free end and wrap it securely around the wound.

"Could you maybe stay? I mean... if you want to." He struggles to suppress a grin when you look up at his eyes. It's hope that lingers behind them.

"Of course."

But the side where you slept is cold and empty when he wakes up.

---

O N E  W E E K  E A R L I E R

The restaurant was crowded, located right at the heart of the city, overlooking several busy streets that seemed to sink under all the hustle and bustle. The world appeared an innocent umber through the dark hue of your sunglasses, shielding yourself from unwanted enemies. Or so you thought.

Time. Time was precious and no amount of glancing at your watch appeared to have quickened the circular orbit of the dials. But this time, you were unsure - caught between the dichotomous chasm of want and need - a feeling that unsettled you to the core.

"Hope you don't mind, darling." A deep voice came from behind, the drinks spilt over the glasses as he slammed his hand on the table. The elderly couple sitting to your left flinched at his abrupt action. A fake smile was enough to have satisfied them, he returned to face your blank expression.

"So tell me, does it usually take this long or are you fucking him?" It was almost a growl that promptly simmered to a smirk when a waitress passed by, unaware of the evil she'd encountered.

"He'll figure it out, I'm being careful." You said, oblivious to the scorching hot liquid piercing your taste buds. Any shard of fun and pleasure that had emerged from his features earlier crumbled at that very second, he leaned closer and you saw the strain on his face when his jaw clenched. Rumlow was not one to adjust and compensate. You learned that the hard way.

"Listen l/n, I saved you from Volkov 'cause you'd be useful someday. And now you owe me. Gave you a week to do the job, it's been two and I still got nothing. And you know I don't like waiting. Get me the information and finish him or should I remind you what's at stake here."

His voice was dangerously low as if cautious of people overhearing but, you knew it would take mere seconds for the scene to resemble a massacre. Yet, he was right. Your past record highlighted the speed and efficiency of completing assignments - just one hit then delivered to the client and you walked away richer. No hesitation. Unfortunately, this time it was Bucky who had a price on his head and had obtained confidential information.

A folder was thrown at your direction, containing photographs of innocents at different viewpoints through what was unmistakably sniper scopes. Rumlow mimicked the sound of a gun cocking before standing up. He bent down to whisper in your ear, laughing while he pressed a brief kiss to your cheek and walked into the sea of people. His last words were all that you breathed.

Barnes or your family.

---

Bucky sidesteps the soldier-like stance of a grumpy looking man, clearing his throat to alleviate the embarrassment of breaking under his penetrating stare. He didn't know what the guy's problem was, Bucky ignores the annoyed tsk that's clearly targetted at him. On any other occasion, a meaningless interaction with strangers would've flown over his head. But, today he's confused. Scared, even.

Less than two weeks ago, he'd encountered and been drawn to an enigma. Strong yet intricately pieced together. Delicate yet resilient. He just couldn't figure it out. After all, he thought everything became normal once he'd spoken and apologised last night. Expecting to be woken up by sunshine and ruffled sheets from a good sleep and you sleeping soundly, but you were gone without a word - and he just doesn't understand.

And now, here he is, shuffling through busy routes to follow a briskly walking figure who's intrigued him for half an hour. They seem to have no destination, simply taking sharp turns and descending into valleys of crowds and streetside markets. In a hurry, Bucky thinks. He picks up his pace, there seem to be fewer people in this area. It's darker and easily hidden between the lanes of houses.

He turns the corner and realises there are no other paths. A dead-end. The figure spins around, eyes flitting around the narrow path. He panics and begins to retreat, but the all-too-familiar cock of the gun stills his movements. Nothing. No moment in his entire life scared him more than the person standing a few steps away -

It's you.

He freezes when your finger curls around the trigger and the innocence in your eyes dissolve. Every single instinct in his body is telling him to run. But he can't. He wants to know more, to know why. And he realises you're thinking the same when your hand begins to tremble.

"Whose orders?"

It's a tone he's never heard before. Cold and detached. A machine programmed to do one's bidding with no second thoughts. He raises both hands, swallowing the agonising feeling latching onto his throat as your grip tightens.

"Don't lie to me, Barnes. Who ordered you to kill me?"

There's no choice. His heart is clawing the insides of his chest, waiting to be free. A whisper is all it takes to conquer your feelings.

"Volkov."

Bucky knows the moment his name is released into the strangling air between you, the gun falters. He sees the rapid and minute shift of your eyes, composing all the information together until -

Your voice staggers, pleading almost. "They have my family, Bucky. He'll kill them if you don't tell me where Volkov is. Rumlow - "

Bucky stops listening. Rumlow, a name he'd left behind, buried within the depths of conscience along with Hydra. He understands your assignment, a simple extract and kill. What Volkov had promised in exchange for your life - Steve's whereabouts - seemed too good to be true, maybe a possible reality in a utopian world. But, this is his life and it's not paradise. He takes a few steps until his hands hover over your gun, angling it towards his heart.

"Then save them."

He whispers the location and you try to zone out, lose control so you don't hear his words. It's too late, two snipers emerge from buildings on command, both taking positions on either side of where you're standing. The chill that runs down Bucky's spine doesn't go unnoticed as he spots the red skull badge on their sleeves. Rumlow knew you wouldn't kill him.

Bucky nudges your chin with the tips of his fingers, reaching into his jacket, he slips his gun into your hands. No words are spoken but you know what has to be done.

Taking a much-needed breath, you pull the trigger at him, not witnessing the wine coloured liquid spreading across his chest instead, taking cover before shooting one of the snipers lurking near a thin pillar. The other one begins firing near the car you are ducking behind. You sprint into his blind spot and kill him with a shot to his head.

Without wasting another second, you spot Bucky clutching his chest in pain. It takes a frozen second for you to dial 911, shaking with dread before Rumlow sends any more of his men and the chances of Bucky surviving vanish. A concerned voice replies to your incohesive string of words, you're barely making sense, the nurse ends the call ensuring 'they're on the way'. Bucky grabs your hand amongst the turmoil, light-headed and pale from the blood seeping through his clothes.

"This isn't goodbye."

And you run.

---

E I G H T  M O N T H S  L A T E R

Even after weeks of desperately searching for him, he was nowhere to be found. You'd gone back to the hospital, the nurse gave you a distressed glance, saying he hadn't mentioned anywhere in particular. That he was gone once discharged.

You didn't give up though - he'd sacrificed himself for your family in a sheer heartbeat. Bucky was the wind to your storm - a second here another gone. He was mysterious beneath the layers of kindness and affection, tender yet deep like the lyrics of a love song - words you've yet to discover, only hoping you weren't wrong.

A few of your old confidantes were able to carry out under-the-ground operations in exchange for Bucky's location: Edinburgh.

Under the chilly winter winds, you walk along the snow-freckled pavement. Sitting at a dark wooden bench inspecting calming patterns of skate lines etched across the river's icy surface, puffs of crisp air revealing themselves as you sigh.

"I was right."

His voice beckons a long-awaited smile on your face. Sharp blue eyes gazing at a few younger skaters wobbling while they glide along. You begin to stammer out an apology, but he shakes his head, still not meeting your eyes.

"You had no choice."

"Did you find him?" You ask eagerly as he takes a seat next to you.

"Pulled a few strings with some old contacts." Bucky turns to face you, a genuine smile he hadn't felt in ages tugs his lips. He takes your gloved hand in his, entangling his fingers with yours with a dazed look washing over his features.

"He's here."

[oopcio]

the lovely @sahana-anand requested oh so politely that i write a oneshot for her apprentice, in which i’m happy to oblige!

word count: maybe one day i’ll start doing these... today’s not the day.

pairing: julian devorak x wynne toprak (the arcana x oc)

warning: nsfw (minors shoo)

“whew! barkeep, how about another round?” julian called, slurring his words, much to wynne’s annoyance. how did she manage to get herself in this situation? oh, right. julian just had to have a ‘drinking buddy’. as if he couldn’t do so alone like he always did, she thought... “and one for wynne, as well?” he cocked a brow, meeting her eyes. she merely scoffed and turned her head.

“aren’t you satisfied with all the alcohol in your system already?” she spat out harshly, while the bartender placed julian’s umpteenth beer on the table in front of him. wynne absolutely could not stand him, especially drunk. how idiotic must one be to go this far? he was only causing more damage to himself with each sip. what was the point? what bothered him so much that he had to drink this much to forget about it?

“why, there’s no need for such hostility, my dear,” he hummed, gesturing loosely for the barkeep to take the drink elsewhere before they could even reach the table. wynne watched out of the corner of her eye as the they gave the glass to a very pretty lady at the bar, as they thought julian intended to send it her way. when the woman’s large, burly partner growled and sat up, stomping over toward their table, she froze up.

“what exactly in the seven hells do you think you’re doing, buying my girl a drink?” the girl’s partner, a tall, strong-looking woman hissed through her teeth as she slammed her large fist on the table, making both wynne and julian shudder from her intensity. “do you think you’re slick, you fugitive quack?! you think i wouldn’t notice?!?!” julian clammed up, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and stuttering as he tried, oh so hard, to explain the situation. but he was doomed from the very start.

the woman leaned over and grabbed julian by the collar, lifting him until he was standing, face-to-face with her while stabbing her big fingers into his chest. the comparison between the two was quite pathetic, and there was no way julian would be able to stick up for himself - especially in the drunken state he was in. wynne couldn’t do much, either; she was only five feet tall and forty two kilograms. this woman was taller than julian, even - and probably weighed as much (or more) than muriel.

once wynne felt like she’d gathered the feeling in her body once again, she stood and slipped out of the booth, asking- no, begging- anyone and everyone at the bar to help him get out of this situation. but all the patrons already knew better... this woman was a regular and everyone knew not to get involved with her, and especially not her girl.

finally, wynne approached the petite girl at the bar, who was suddenly thrust into the middle of all this mess. caution be damned, wynne told herself, catching her sleeve. “please, can you stop her? she will beat him senseless, he can’t fight back! he didn’t mean to have it sent here...” the words spilled out of wynne’s mouth a mile a minute, gently tugging on the other’s sleeve with every word in hopes to convey her urgency.

the girl was taken aback; no one had ever asked her to help break up one of the fights her girlfriend started ever before, and she’d given up long ago upon realizing it hardly ever did it go. when they both heard her call for more backup, though, they both had snapped out of their trancelike state, with the frail girl before wynne sending her a pitiful look. “i... i’m so sorry. andrea... there’s no talking her out of it now, and if i tried, it’ll only make things worse...”

wynne could no longer plead with her - she had to take matters into her own hands now. she heard the calamity behind her and cringed, uttering a silent apology to julian.

finally, andrea decided she had her fill and took her leave, hand-in-hand with her girlfriend. wynne promptly rushed toward julian, who laid curled up on the cold, hard ground, searching him as gently as possible for wounds. this night had turned around quite quickly... hadn’t it?

“where does it hurt?” she asked, a caring insistence in her sweet voice. julian would smile if he wasn’t in such excruciating pain...

he groaned when the light pressure of her hand came in contact with her stomach, where one of andrea’s posse had scratched him with their nails. really, it was quite remarkably deep... wait, this was no nail scratch. this was... oh, were these brass knuckles?!

wynne moved back quickly and searched his pockets for medical supplies, even if just for the tiniest bit, to help the healing progress. nothing serious at all, but definitely painful. upon finding it, she quickly stuffed it into the pockets on her sides and helped julian to his feet, to get him through a door towards the back of the establishment, leading to the alleyway behind the rowdy raven. quite, cold, and completely empty. it would do for the time being.

she lifted a chair toppled over beside the dumpster and pushed him into it, hearing him groan and clutch his stomach. “careful,” he muttered under his breath before shutting his lips together, watching her angrily rip open the bandages to place over his wounds.

“we wouldn’t be in this situation if you didn’t behave so stupidly!” she huffed, showing no mercy as she wrapped the guaze around his abdomen. “you have the nerve to warn me to be careful, when you’re the one who caused all of this? that’s rich!”

“alright, what’s your problem?” he couldn’t bear it any longer. “you always treat me this way - harsh and angrily, i mean. i’ve not done anything to offend you, to my knowledge, so forgive me if i’m mistaken. then, what’s all this for?”

“because i feel like an absolute fool seeing you put yourself in positions like this! i give you a hard time because i really like you, and because you’re stupid for not realizing it! now look who is tending to your wounds - it’s me! no matter how much dumb shit you get yourself into, i’m always the one at your beck and call! as much as i warn you to stop acting like a moron, i’m the one who keeps coming back, saying ‘it’s okay’ and comforting you! and i...”

for just the slightest bit, wynne stuttered. her hands shook on the tiniest scale as she finished wrapping him up. wh... what did she just say? “hey, forget what i just said, alright? let’s get you home.”

she held her hand out to help ease him out of the chair, but he just grabbed her wrist, holding it with a gentle yet firm grasp. she looked into his eyes and seen a look... unrecognizable. “are you serious? did you mean that?” he asked quietly, looking at her through dangling pieces of his auburn hair. “because you like me?”

“i said neverm-“ but she couldn’t finish. he used her to help steady himself to stand before her, never looking away from her eyes. and she knew there was no use denying it now... what had been said, was already out in the open. no going back now. “...yes. i... i meant it.”

the tiniest hint of a smile brought the corner of julian’s mouth upwards into a little smile. “i really do feel like an idiot now. i wish i’d realized this much earlier, and we could’ve done something about it earlier. maybe saved you a few gray hairs?”

“oh, shut up!” she whined, slapping his arm. “i have a long time before that happens. besides...” well, her current nervousness went without saying. she had just put her heart out on the line, and had yet to hear his response... it’s an uncomfortable feeling.

he simply chuckled and placed his hands on either sides of her jaw. he leaned down and pressed a soft little kiss to the crown of her head while her hands fell onto his chest, at a loss for words. “there’s no need to be nervous, my love. your feelings are returned, and i’m actually quite impressed that you hadn’t realized. pasha always told me that my crush was quite obvious...”

wynne’s cheeks heated up as she clasped her hands over them, in a desperate attempt to hide her flush. “i guess i was just... too busy with my own feelings to notice,” she mumbled, kicking at the pebbles under her feet shyly.

“then, what about now? what better time to make up for lost time, than right here, right now?” he questioned, sliding his warm hands up her forearm, slowly walking her back against the wall in the alleyway. he left more than enough room between them in case she decided she didn’t want this, but as the seconds passed, and she remained...

“and if someone sees?” she asked bashffully, hardly able to meet his eyes. he fixed that quickly - grabbing her chin softly and lifting it so that he could meet her eyes. “they’ll have no reason to come out looking for us unless we give them one. besides, it’s so dark, it’ll be nearly impossible for anyone to decipher what’s going on. so if you want this...”

wynne found herself without much need for convincing. with no words spoken, she wrapped her arms around his neck and used that to lean into him, connecting their lips. and that must’ve been answer enough for him; he simply grabbed her by her waist and returned the gesture, kissing back with the same fire and passion. gradually, he backed her completely against the wall and placed one hand on the brick, beside her head. she was now trapped between the building behind her, and julian’s body. though, she had no complaints.

julian’s arm snaked its way around her waist, now bringing them closer than they’d been before, their bodies pressed flush against each other. his lips found their way to the nape of her neck once he’d pulled her hair aside, earning a quiet moan from her. her hands moved to his hair, finding purchase in it in order to keep him in that very spot where he left marks symbolic of his love on her smooth, perfect skin. the way they blossomed into pretty little purple hickeys tempted him to leave more, over every inch of her skin, but the small bit of reserve he had left told him that there was not a moment to waste.

he pinned his leg to the wall between her legs, giving poor wynne something to provide even the smallest bit of friction she so desired. she rutted against it as much as she could, even throughout the stutters and jerks her body involuntarily made as a result of his mouth sucking desperately on her skin. even when she pulled on his hair, frantically trying to encourage him, he enjoyed it. she could feel the vibration of his quiet groans, and could hardly hear them when she listened for it.

“please,” the whine left her throat faster than she could process, and julian tuned in immediately at the ethereal sound. “please, no more teasing. i want you.” he couldn’t stop the smirk that teased his lips, looking down just enough to remove their clothes at a teasingly slow pace. at least, until wynne spoke again. “daddy...”

that seemed to speed him up, almost immediately. he threw what he could aside before grabbing the back of her knees, lifting them just enough to have her helplessly folded against the wall. not even a minute later and they connected, becoming one. what was not inside of her was wrapped tightly around her, as if anything less would open the door for the world to cruelly rip him from this moment.

the length of the time that went by with the both of them not admitting their feelings seemed to spur julian to make up for lost time with rough, deep strokes. wynne blindly searched for his shoulders, his chest - anything to hold on to, just to feel grounded. it felt good, it felt so good. for everything to be out in the open, giving way to this moment. how incredible it was, seeing that all of the times wynne made a snarky, sarcastic remark to julian, would even lead to this moment. was this his revenge, for all of that time? if so, it wasn’t much of a punishment... wynne enjoyed this more than she’d like to admit.

however, the choice wasn’t hers to make - her body decided to take charge for now, allowing her mind to be swallowed whole by all the waves of pleasure. so every moan, whine, plead and beg, was uncontrolled - much to julian’s excitement. he loved knowing she was enjoying herself as much as him, and that she could finally let her guard down. that felt just as good as fucking her, in his opinion.

“oh! daddy, come on, please! i’m so close,” she cried out, burying her face shyly into his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life. he nodded in mutual agreement, his hips nearly stuttering as that familiar knot seemed to tangle in the pit of his stomach.

and seconds later, it was like the world they’d both built in their pleasures crashed down on the both of them, the knots coming undone, all at once and at the same time. gripping one another tightly while the feeling of gratification washed over both of their bodies, basking in the sensation for as long as they possibly could.

once the feeling subsided for both of them, they were left pressed hotly together, panting in a desperate attempt to regain the breath that was knocked out of them from their orgasms. julian was the first to break the silence, afterwards. “i hope this isn’t the moment where you tell me you were just teasing with what you said earlier,” he whispered, chuckling deeply and helping her to her feet.

she giggled and shook her head, accepting his help as she grabbed their clothes. “no, i suppose you’re stuck with me now.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” he hummed, slipping into his clothes carefully before helping wynne into hers. “unless, you’re still going to make those mean remarks about me? even now?”

she hit his arm playfully, making him rub the spot as if he was hurt. “shut up,” she whined, straightening the both of them up so they could walk back home and avoid suspicions.

“be careful! i’m still injured,” he pouted, gathering their things and holding his arm out, awaiting her to link their arms together for the walk home.

“oh, don’t remind me.”

(a/n: wow this was long and probably really cringe im SORRY i feel like there’s no winning when you write smut and i’m too embarrassed to proofread lmao)

- jiah 💖

[lov3nerdstuff]

Being Human {Part 3}

*Loki x reader*

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part: 3 / 4

Words: 4.8k

Genre: angst (and fluff)

Warnings: none

Summary: ~Loving Loki was a one-way ticket to misery, a vortex of sadness and pain and solitude. It was like willingly drinking poison and accidentally becoming addicted to it.~

Loki has been ignoring you from the very beginning. You were only human, after all, a representative of a species he obviously despised. But when an accident in the lab puts your life in danger, Loki has to reconsider his strategy as he is forced to work together with you. And you suddenly start to see that his reasons for staying away might've been entirely different from what you had always assumed.

A.N.: This is the third part! I decided to make this a mini series, and there will be at least one more part 😊💗 I hope you enjoy!

______________________________

The deafening silence of the lab rung in Loki's ears like an explosion, while his heart beat so fast it was almost painful. You looked at him with big eyes full of uncertainty and reluctance, and Loki's jaw clenched at the thought that he couldn't hide anymore.

"Did you really mean what you said? Or did you just want to win the argument against Tony?" You asked quietly, free of judgement and yet with an obvious curiosity. Loki was glad that you had spoken up first.

"Did I mean what exactly?" He inquired without any real reason. He knew what he'd said, what he had promised to do, but he wanted to hear it in your own words, to maybe get a hint as for what you expected of him. The overwhelming need to not let you down was arising from the depth of him, mingling with the already present urge to keep your safe.

"Nevermind." You sighed, giving him that bright smile of yours that he had never questioned up until now. "Thank you for getting Tony off my heels. Don't feel obligated to… well, anything. I know that it must've been hard for you to take my side, and I just want you to know that I'm grateful."

Loki wanted to reply, to say how wrong you were about that. It hadn't been hard at all to take your side. He always would, and always will take your side without a second thought. But right in that moment his lips were sealed by a force that was beyond him and so he could only watch you jump off the table and saunter towards the exit with his cape still wrapped around your shoulders.

"Y/n…" He finally heard himself say, even though he couldn't feel the words passing his lips.

"Yes?" You turned around, and Loki could swear that he saw the tiniest dash of hope in your eyes for a split second. It made his stomach do backflips he didn't welcome at all.

"If… If you have any questions or problems, come find me in my room." He managed to say in a neutral voice, cursing himself inwardly for his cowardice. As if you would ever come to HIM out of all people…

"Yeah, sure…" You gave him another almost disappointed smile, then turned back towards the door and made for the elevator.

The dagger in Loki's heart was twisted and he almost let out a gasp at the painful stinging. By the gods, what was he doing… over a year of staying at a maximum distance, only to have all efforts be vain within one single day. Your presence was addicting, and now that he'd gotten a taste he couldn't let go.

In an instant he was after you, out of the lab and sliding through the closing elevator doors in the very last moment.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, and Loki wasn't really too sure if he should go with his facade, or with honesty for once.

"I'm sorry, my reply was fairly inappropriate and carelessly spoken." He started in his normal eloquence, deciding to go for something in the middle of truth and safety. "I meant what I said, I really do want to help you. And as I said, I will be of as much or as little assistance as you want me to be."

Your lips parted for a second as you stared up at him in sincere surprise, and Loki wasn't sure if you'd ever looked more beautiful. Tousled hair, wide eyes, flushed cheeks and wrapped in his cape… Maybe you had, but he'd never been this close before.

"Thank you Loki…" You said quietly, just as the elevator doors pinged and opened in a swift motion, letting some of the tension in the air out into the third floor hallway. "Would you…" Your voice trailed off as you bit your bottom lip, looking down to your naked feet on the marble floor with the tiniest blush on your cheeks.

"I will." Loki replied easily, without hesitation. He couldn't have you be afraid of him, not now that you needed his help, and maybe not ever again. Thus his gut had decided in an instant what his mind had been pondering ever since you had woken up.

A small smile formed on your lips as you looked back up at him. "You didn't even know what I meant to ask of you."

"And you didn't know if it was fine to ask of me in the first place. I merely meant to show you that you mustn't be afraid." He gave back with a small smirk playing on his lips, relishing the twinkle in your eyes that followed. Oh, you were dangerous… and that meant Loki needed to be more careful.

"Would you go down to the kitchen to have dinner with me? I mean I want to take a shower first, but then… I'm hungry, and I don't think I can stand everyone asking questions tonight." You asked with a sigh and a small smile.

"What makes you so sure I won't ask any questions?" He teased before he could bite his own tongue as he walked next to you towards your room.

A smirk spread on your lips and a blush on your cheeks as you peeked up at him through your lashes, making his heartbeat go wild. A short moment later, you reached your room.

"I'll come by your room when I'm ready, alright?" You asked, opening your door and walking in.

"As you wish, Y/n. I shall be waiting for you." He replied calmly, turning on his heel to return to his own quarters feeling everything but calm.

_______________

It took you precisely three seconds after you'd closed the door to drop down to the floor and lean your head against the wall behind you. You had lied to all of them… You had lied to Loki.

You did feel the stones, very much so even. Their power, their capabilities… all surging through your veins like liquid bolts of energy that threatened to overpower you. It was like trying to carry a cup that was filled to the brim with liquid… it took a lot of focus and energy to keep it from spilling over the edges.

But you wouldn't tell anyone about it, wouldn't burden anyone with this knowledge.

It had been a decision of a broken second… The first time Loki had asked about how you felt, you'd been honest. You had been feeling rather normal at that point, only too much confusion and too little orientation to your fogged mind. But once Tony had asked, you'd already known that there was nothing any of them could do to help you, and thus there was no reason for you to burden them with your own troubles. You'd be fine… somehow, sometime.

But you weren't just accounting losses after all! Loki had actually talked to you, for the very first time, and he'd been too nice to you for your own good. It made your heart race and ache at the very same time, mixing longing and hope with the saddening knowledge that he was most likely just being helpful in order to get the stones back.

Yet he was willing to go to have dinner with you, to help you if you should wish so, and even to be around you whenever you demanded it. Oh, and you definitely needed his help, as much of it as you could get… The problem was that you needed to hold back in this sudden new thing between you, to not allow your mind to show any of that love you kept hidden from the god. Up until this point you'd been fine in keeping your feelings to yourself, fine in pretending and feigning to be happy. But now that he would be around you all the time, you didn't know how much longer the facade would last.

Sighing, you rose to your feet, peeled off your clothing and finally stepped into the steaming shower. For a second the water stung horribly in the wounds on your knees, but not even a noticeable moment later the pain faded and you were left with only the comfortable burn of the hot water on your skin and a frown on your face. A very much justified imprint of your doubt… as once you looked down to inspect said wounds, you found them completely gone, vanished to leave only perfectly unblemished skin. No blood, no dirt, not the tiniest scratch. Your lips parted in surprise, before it dawned on you. Of course the stones would be protecting their host, that was just logical. But you didn't know if your own thoughts had made the scratches and bruises disappear, or if it had been the will of the stones.

Just knowing that a bunch of liquid space stones were currently flowing around within you made you incredibly uneasy, and you groaned to yourself quietly, rolling your eyes at your 'luck'. Maybe someone else would've deemed it an honor, or an opportunity… but you wanted neither fame nor power. And most definitely did you not want the ability to fuck up the entire planet. Someone who constantly tripped over their own feet shouldn't be the most powerful being in the universe. Oh god, you really were THE most powerful being in the universe! A shiver ran down your spine at the thought, despite the hot water. You felt scared… scared of yourself. But you suppressed the thought as soon as it entered your mind and simply focused on the task at hand: getting out of the shower and not destroying anything in the process.

_______________

It took a little more than forty minutes until there was a faint knock on Loki's door. He'd been sitting on the edge of his bed the entire time, staring at the black marble beneath his feet. Honestly, he didn't know what to expect of any of this. For the first time he'd allowed himself to talk to you, and it had been both his saving and his doom. And he just couldn't make his mind up about how he wanted to proceed. Everything in his soul and heart screamed to stay close to you, to keep you safe and happy, while everything in his mind screamed to stay at a distance. Even if he still didn't understand how things would be from now on, he knew he'd find out once he opened that door.

"Ready for some dinner?" You greeted him with a small smile.

"I'm not particularly hungry." He replied calmly as he closed the door behind himself and walked next to you towards the elevator. You gave him a frown, upon which he realized that it might not be the smartest thing to make you look for another reason why he was coming with you.

Both of you stayed quiet during your ride down to the ground level, and even then Loki only muttered a quiet 'after you' as he let you step out of the elevator first. Once again next to each other, you walked the short distance towards the grand open kitchen.

Only shortly before you could step into the room, Loki held you back. "Y/n, wait a second… I would like to check your energy levels first." He spoke as quietly as his nerves allowed him to.

"Why?" You asked, brows rising as you looked up at him in question.

"So I don't have to do it in front of all the others. You asked me to help you evade questions, and that's what I'm trying to do."

"Oh…" Your voice sounded almost disappointed, making Loki's heart fall a little. "Yeah, sure, go ahead."

Quickly and without much fuss he took a step closer to you, not without noticing your breathing hitch ever so slightly. Were you really that scared of him? Repelled, maybe? Well, it had to be done anyway.

Placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, his eyes searched yours as he felt the mixed energy wash over him, in an intensity that had him rise his eyebrows in an instant.

"Are you feeling alright?" He asked instinctively, his voice laced with serious concern.

"Yeah. Normal." You replied in a rather breathless manner as your chest rose and fell under his subtle touch. Utterly intoxicating…

Loki took a quick step backwards, averting his eyes. "You should not be feeling normal, not like this… You need to let me know when you feel any different, alright?"

You nodded slightly, turning back towards the door after a moment and finally making your way into the kitchen.

During dinner, neither you nor Loki spoke a single word. Yet, once the still present team members sauntered into the room and started to come at you with questions, Loki glared at them until they left you alone. Thus it was only you and him in a corner of the room, in more or less comfortable silence as neither knew what to say.

After you'd had something proper to eat (Loki had made sure you got something warm and not just a sandwich), he accompanied you on the walk back to your room until you reached your door.

"Thank you… For sitting with me and not asking any questions." You finally spoke up as you turned around to face Loki. "I wasn't in the mood for talking tonight."

"I'm glad I could be of assistance." He replied calmly, without any expression that would give away his discomfort at not knowing what to say or do. "If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

"Actually, I do have a question." You gave back in an instant, and your eyes told Loki that your mouth had been quicker than your mind. He almost smiled at the sight.

"Go ahead." He said gently, observing your very reaction as you blushed the tiniest bit, barely noticeable to anyone but Loki's watchful eye.

"Why are you suddenly being nice to me?" You asked quietly, looking straight ahead to his chest rather than his face. "You didn't talk to me for the longest time, and now you're being all helpful and kind and asking if I need anything… I just don't get it. Why do you differently care?"

The question made Loki's heart race in an instant, his mind skipping through a million different options as for what to say. The truth wasn't an option, but he also felt like he couldn't lie to you… Maybe you hadn't yet figured out that you could read his every thought if you only wished to, with the help of the stones… And that was his luck, for once.

"I've always cared, Y/n. That's why I stayed away from you. But now I promised to help you, and I never break a promise." He replied finally, feeling like this was the least risky thing to say.

"I've heard otherwise." You obviously chose to ignore his comment about him caring for you, and Loki didn't know if he was feeling glad or hurt.

"I do enjoy to delve into alternative realities at times." He answered easily, badly covering up the previous, though intentional slip of his barricades.

"So you lie."

"I tell stories about what might be the truth, for someone at some point."

"You lie."

"If you insist on calling it that, have it your way." Loki almost snapped, but held himself back for once. He didn't want you to be repelled by him, and neither did he want you to believe he would ever lie to you. "I did lie, to quite a few people. Including myself at multiple occasions, by the way. But I have never broken a promise. And I have never lied to you, nor will I ever."

"I don't believe you." You looked straight at him now, almost in a teasing manner and Loki couldn't deny that he kind of enjoyed it.

"You hold the power to see the truth. If you don't believe my words, see for yourself." Now it was him who spoke without thinking. There were things in his mind he couldn't have you see, and couldn't prevent you from seeing if you looked into his mind indeed.

"I don't know how to do that." You frowned, looking down to your feet.

"Then you will have to believe my words." Loki replied in utter relief. Close call… "I won't ever lie to you, I promise. And I don't want you to do it either. Now, if you notice anything out of ordinary, come and find me immediately. Alright?"

"Yeah." You breathed, blinking a few times too many as if only now catching up on your conversation.

"Are you still feeling fine?"

"Yes." Again, your voice was a mere whisper and Loki just knew that you weren't telling the truth. And in the current situation, that was dangerous for everyone. But he also didn't know how he could get you to open up, and thus he left you the space you obviously wanted. At least this once, he'd think about someone else first. Even if he was dying of curiosity and the need to keep you safe. But you weren't making his internal war any easier, as he was torn between keeping you safe on either end, but for different reasons.

"Okay." He sighed softly, surprising both you and himself. "Would you like to try out some easy control exercises tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure…" You replied absentmindedly, and Loki knew that he was losing you to your own mind. Gods, how badly he wanted to help… how badly did he want to stay with you. He should probably stay with you, for the sake of the stones. But he couldn't, for your own sake, not when you were seeking solitude so very obviously. Maybe you did make it easy for him… easy to keep himself safe. And he hated it.

"Alright, I won't bother you any longer. Goodnight Y/n." He brought out in a polite smile, the polar opposite of what his mind screamed so very loudly he was sure you must have heard. Yet, he turned on his heel to head back towards his room before he could do anything even more stupid than leaving you alone with the stones.

_______________

Despite everything that had happened, Loki didn't feel tired at all. Because of everything that had happened, maybe.

Thus he once more lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, hours later, dwelling in the depth of his own mind. On the possibilities the imminent future might hold, the dangers and risks of your current condition, the dangers and risks of spending more and more time with you. It wouldn't end well… either way.

Matter was, after thinking it through, fairly simple:

He could stay at a distance to keep you safe from himself, to keep his own flames from burning you up, to spare his own soul the pain… and thereby risk your safety, the entire universe's safety even!

Or he could stay close to you to protect you from the powers at work within you, to keep the stones from devouring you in ways he would have done otherwise. Keep them from consuming your mind, your soul and heart… at the risk of Loki himself becoming your own doom in the process, to leave both of you shattered nonetheless.

Either way, pain was inevitable. Suffering was inevitable. But he had to decide who he wanted to suffer more, you or himself, a decision easy enough by itself, but eternally complex considering everything BUT you and him. And if he was being honest with himself, Loki knew that he always acted for his own good on instinct alone… he always had. If nobody else ever thought about his well-being, he needed to do it himself, that he'd learned quite early on.

Maybe breaking that habit should've been hard… he should feel seriously torn about it. But if he really did listen to his thoughts, it wasn't about a decision anymore, but about avoiding collateral damage. Loki had long made his pick for who was to suffer, and that would never be you. Not in any age of the universe.

Also, he couldn't help but wonder what the goal of it all was… why did the stones choose a host now? And why you? Yet, their ways would remain ineffable, if they didn't choose to reveal themselves to him.

A quiet knock. Loki's brows furrowed at the minimal sound breaking through the silence… what time was it? Who would come knocking at his door yet again? Then however he remembered that he'd told you to find him if anything was wrong… In an instant he was on his feet and by the door, ripping it open in one swift move.

Right in front of him he found a shivering you, clad in only an oversized shirt and with wide, teary eyes staring up at him. Your trembling lips parted ever so slightly and Loki felt his heart skipping a beat before twisting painfully.

"I… I'm so sorry." You breathed, a single tear falling from your lashes down onto the soft skin of your lips. Just as you turned to leave in haste, something within him snapped yet again, and the next of his walls came tumbling down at your feet. Without much effort he took a hold of your wrist and pulled you into his room quickly, closing the door behind the two of you.

Once surrounded by the comforting darkness, he let go of you and looked into your eyes intently.

"What's wrong?" He asked calmly, not daring to touch you despite the strong desire to do just that, to comfort you in any way possible to him.

Before you could say anything to answer, Loki's bedsheets and curtains caught fire, started burning out of nowhere. You jumped horribly, squeezing your eyes shut as a small whimper escaped your lips.

Loki was lost for a second, surprise and uncertainty washing over his mind, before he finally jumped into action. Gently he placed a hand on your shoulder, making you look up at him with the other.

"Y/n please talk to me… What's wrong?" He tried once again, too worried to keep the facade plastered on his face. He wouldn't need it around you anymore.

You let out a sob, quickly pressing the back of your hand against your lips to keep from making any more sounds. The fire suddenly stopped, leaving the previously scorching fabrics unharmed. Yet, a moment later the whole room began shaking, quivering unlike any earthquake would be able to cause, just like you were shaking yourself.

"Please… talk to me Y/n…" He requested yet again, squeezing your shoulders a little too hardly, but loosening his grip immediately once he noticed.

"I… I lied, okay?" You breathed, averting your gaze and the room shook even more for a moment, then stilled completely. A shivering breath escaped your lips, seemingly the only sound in the cold silence of the compound.

"It's alright… Can you tell me now?" He moved his hand from under your chin to the side of your face, caressing your cheekbones gently as he wiped a tear off your skin. A gesture too bold, too intimate to fit his pretentious behavior… yet fitting to his decision for honesty.

"I'm so sorry…" You breathed yet again, looking so pained that it tore on Loki's soul. "I don't feel normal at all, I feel scared, horribly scared and exhausted and lost… It hurts so much…"

He let out a long breath in return, trying to regain control of his own emotions… it wasn't working, and it wouldn't work in the future either. He couldn't keep going like this, couldn't keep you even at a minimal distance… but then again, he didn't want to either.

With one swift motion he pulled you against his chest, wrapping you into his arms carefully, yet with determination.

You gasped, but he didn't care that he was giving himself away... He was going to help you, he had promised to, after all.

"Tell me what pains you, darling…" He requested quietly as he held you tightly against his own frame. Your shivering continued on for a moment longer, but then your arms slowly wrapped around him in return until you were clinging onto him for dear life.

"Their energy is killing me, Loki… either me or everyone else. I can't hold it back anymore, I don't know how to…" You breathed, voice thick with unshed tears while your body jerked in his strong hold from time to time.

"I'll make it better, you'll be fine… I promise." He did his best to keep his own voice calm while he tried to come up with a way to help you. Any way.

As he moved to pull back a little, you yelped and held onto him even more tightly.

"Please don't let me go…" You whimpered. "I've jumped to so many dark places tonight, by accident… and I was so scared I wouldn't find my way back."

"I'm here." He replied reassuringly. "I'm not letting you go…" And even though Loki knew that his own magic was rather insignificant compared to the power of the stones, he used every last bit of it to ease your pain right now. Indeed, a short moment later he felt you relaxing ever so slightly in his arms, letting out a soft sigh.

"Better?" He breathed, caressing your back gently with one hand while the other still held onto you tightly, as if your were but a fleeting impression, a perfect imprint of his own imagination that he needed to anchor to himself, and to the world.

"Yeah…" You sighed breathlessly. "The pain is almost gone. Did you do that?"

"Yeah." He gave back with a soft smile you couldn't see, but most likely hear. You didn't need to know that every pain he took from you, he would have to feel himself… But he would gladly suffer for you every single time if it meant you were feeling better.

"Loki… I'm so sorry for bothering you. But I need your help, and I need you." Your voice was only a whisper, but your words left goosebumps on his skin.

"You're not bothering me at all, please don't ever think that." He replied immediately, certain but gentle. "You are right where I wanted you to be all along, but that's a topic for a different time. Just know for now that I meant what I said… I didn't ignore you because I don't care about you, but because I care way too much."

"I thought you promised not to lie to me..."

"I'm not lying." He replied calmly, drawing soothing patterns on your back as you relaxed more and more while Loki himself did his best to bite down the pain he took from you.

"I thought you despise humanity… I thought that's why you despise me. Because I'm only human." Your grip on his hoodie tightened, and Loki felt a pang of guilt spreading in his whole body. But this was not the right time for explanations.

"I've never despised you, Y/n… If you truly wish to know my reasons, I will comply. But not now."

"But what now indeed? How do we make it stop?"

"Do you trust me?" He asked then, quietly and with hesitation, yet very sure that nothing he had tried all day had worked in his favor. Nothing but honesty.

"More than anyone else, actually." You breathed, sounding finally more at ease, without pain. That was enough to convince Loki that his new plan might just work out in your favor, if not in his own as well.

With one swift move he swept you off your feet, relishing the sound of your surprised but not displeased gasp as he moved to sit on the bed with your small form still securely wrapped up in his arms.

"Now, darling, I want you to let go." He stated certainly. "Don't hold back, just let it happen. Stop fighting them."

"What if everything starts burning again? Or just disappears for good? What if YOU disappear?!" You asked quietly, fear lacing your voice like a dark veil, and you finally pulled back just enough to look into Loki's eyes. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but feel his heart skipping a beat at the closeness, then swell with a sense of deep protectiveness.

"It will be alright. You will be alright." Loki said in a certainty of which he didn't know where it had come from. But he was certain that he would do anything for you. "You're safe with me."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

And with one more shaky breath, you did let go indeed.

______________________________

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[mimiwrites2000]

Legends

Chapter Four��~

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie/ Eren x Mikasa (other pairings will be added as the story goes on)

Words count: 2141

* spoilers for chapter 127 and up

Summary:

an injury

a miracle

an understanding

and maybe 'everything happens for a reason' holds some truth in it, and all of it leads to that tingle of emotions with unsolvable maze that hypnotize its victims

~a story of broken hearts who are searching for a cure while mending each other’s wounds

“Hey, make sure to not tire yourself so much; we’re still clueless of what’s going on.” Armin said.

Annie turned her head slightly to the side, nodding, the motion almost made Armin slip, but he was quick to collect his composure.

Now that they had the mission laid in front of them, Armin couldn’t do anything but wish that everyone was safe.

He wanted Annie to be happy…

After what she went through, she deserved a happy ending.

Then Armin saw it, lines of buildings fading in the horizon, standing tall, hope sparked in his chest, and he knew that Annie saw them too, because she halted entirely in her tracks.

Armin had to think, and fast.

What would be their next step? What should they do? The buildings looked fine… as far as they could tell, and no colossal titans could be seen anywhere, does that mean that the civilians are fine? Is there an artillery line and soldiers waiting for them over there?

Annie looked at him before raising her hand and gently nudging the smoke signals on his hip.

“Y-yes, you’re right.” And he flared a yellow signal, waited a few seconds, and far away, he could see a green smoke flashing in the direction of the buildings.

“A green flare… alright, so the investigation isn’t over yet, we should get going.” He announced to Annie.

But she didn’t move an inch.

“Annie…?” Armin wondered what she wanted to say to him, she only looked in his eyes, and Armin shivered; looking at Annie’s magnified blue eyes reminded him of the shudders he got the first time he stepped into the ocean, cold but pleasant at the same time.

Then it clicked.

He knew what Annie was thinking.

“I know, I know it’s not the best idea to show up there, a foreign soldier on a titan’s shoulder, but what other choices do we have?”

Annie still didn’t move.

“You can make a crystal shell if there was any gun attack, right?” He asked.

Annie rolled her eyes before she rose her hand and gently poked Armin’s chest with her index.

“Oh…” he understood.

Annie was worried about him.

“I…” he wanted to come up with a convincing plan, but with the worried look Annie was giving him, flashbacks from Shiganshina battle flashed through his mind.

“Eren, have I ever lied to you?”

Armin sighed, his hand flew to his head, ruffling his own hair, trying to come up with anything, but his mind was blank…

The same colossal finger that tapped his chest poked him again, and when he looked at Annie, she was gesturing her fingers between them.

“You… me…” He scrunched his eyebrows in concentration, trying to decipher Annie’s motions…

Then the wrinkles between his eyebrows faded and relaxed, and he smiled: “Yes, I’ll stay close to you.” He trusted her.

And they were on the move again.

They were getting closer gradually, each thud of Annie’s feet pushing the ground matched their hearts pulsing, the beating getting louder and louder, pounding at their heads.

When they were close enough, Annie slowed down, turning her running into jogging, then she was walking. The buildings stood upright, but the whole place was vacant.

“We can’t let our guard down, not yet.”

But no one could be seen, no soldiers, nor civilians.

“We are in the internment zone, aren’t we?” Armin asked, even if he already knew the answer; Annie’s head was whipping left and right, searching. Armin knew that panic boiled in Annie, and he needed to bring her back to earth, to let her get her mind straight.

“Annie, Annie, calm down-”

But she wasn’t anywhere near calm. If anything, Armin’s words only ignited her more.

He shot his anchors onto her forehead, almost missing with Annie’s frantic seek of her father.

“Annie!” Armin shouted, right in her face.

She froze, looked him straight in the eyes. Worry and alertness mixed in his eyes, boring into her, and she was immobilized.

“Listen to me, I’ll go investigate on foot, there’s nothing to see from up here,” Armin glanced around themselves, “I think everyone had fled already, we didn’t see blood or any bodies.”

Now that he mentioned it, it was true.

Maybe her father fled too, and he would be safe and sound…

“If anything happens, could you, uh, scream?” Armin said, then he flared a yellow smoke signal.

Annie nodded.

Armin hopped off her shoulder and was walking on foot.

There was no one there, not dead or alive, the whole place was abandoned as if it was deserted years ago, and Armin thought that maybe the Eldian here heard Eren too, and they got a chance to warn everyone off?

But did they had enough time to run? All of them?

If anything, Armin thought, Marleyans would’ve saved their skin and turned their backs on the Eldians, leaving them to their doom. They didn’t care about them in regular, no dangerous life…

Armin strolled the streets, he tried calling, the echo of his own voice the only answer he got, but he kept walking and-

He heard something fall, something huge, with a loud thud, shaking the ground. He turned, and the Female Titan was on her knees.

Armin didn’t have time to run, so he used his ODM gear to get there faster, his heart was beating against his rib cage, and he tasted vomit at the back of his throat, and what on earth just happened to her?

Armin wasn’t sure he’d be able to heal her again; he had no idea how it worked; he was merely clueless.

If there was an attack, and they got the female Titan that fast, then he wouldn’t last a minute. But something was eerie about it; Annie would’ve never gone down undemanding...

Armin got to where Annie’s Titan body was, and he let out an unsteady sigh when he saw her pulling out of her titan form, tearing the flesh around her body, and when Armin got closer to her, his chest heaving with irregular pants, he noticed the sweat gathering on her forehead, sticking her hair to it.

The moment Annie freed herself, she jumped down to meet Armin on the ground.

“Did you find anyone?” She asked, her voice breathless.

“No, as far as I can tell, no one is around.” He took a few tentative steps towards her, “are you fine? Why did you leave your Titan?”

“They shot a flare, they’re looking for somewhere to land, and I couldn’t just lurk around, I wanna search myself.”

“Annie, listen to me, no one is here, and I didn’t see one blood drop, so no one is killed either.”

“There’s no way all of them escaped.”

“Y-yes, I’ve been thinking about that, but as far as I can tell… I actually have no idea.” He confessed, there was no point in hiding his bewilderment from her.

“I’ll investigate,” Annie announced, marching past Armin.

Armin held her wrist, stopping her, but in one swift motion, she unclasped his grasp, “Hey, wait, stop!” he followed her, “we should at least wait for the rest-”

“I’m not waiting for anyone.” Annie halted in her steps, turned around, took a step fronting Armin, and was standing a few inches away from him, the way she fixed him with her eyes almost made him step back, “you wanna stay here, then stay and wait, I’m off.”

Before she had the chance to turn away, Armin stepped closer to her, and his arms wrapped around her.

Annie flinched and tried to pull from him and shove him away, but he only tightened his hold on her, burying his head in her shoulder.

His embrace on her felt like chains suffocating her, and she knew that she could flip him over with one swift kick, and yet, she didn’t.

Armin could feel Annie’s heart beating fast against his chest, matching his own, and he wanted to pull back for a moment and check Annie’s face because how did she not kick him yet? But he didn’t, and a frown pulled at his lips, because now that he’s close to her, he felt how petite and bony her body had become, and it made him soften his hold because she felt so fragile in his arms and he didn’t want to break her.

Tears burned the corner of Annie’s eyes, but she held them back and swallowed a sob, which only made her body tremble. She let her arms dangling useless at her sides, while she fluttered her eyes shut and focused on her breathing.

Armin didn’t need to say anything, and when he rubbed weak circles on Annie’s back, he felt a pair of arms sneaking around him, hanging around his torso.

Not long after it, he felt her body rocketing, and then his shoulder, where her face was resting against, started getting wet.

Then sobs were escaping her mouth, and Armin’s hands quivered, going up and tangling his fingers in her hair, the other hand seized her even tighter, tighter, tighter, gently.

“I don’t-” a sob, “even know-” a silent cry, “if he’s alive-” Annie bit her lip, “or not.”

Armin didn’t say anything in return, he just rubbed circles on her back. Armin thought about the only time he saw Annie in a similar, yet different, state like this, Armin didn’t physically witness it; instead, he saw it from Bert’s memories… when they watched Marco being devoured by a titan…

Annie felt her body pressed into his, she thought she might become one with him, fitting each other ideally like two puzzle pieces falling into the right place, and the warmth radiating from his body was… easeful, and maybe lovely.

Then shadows zipped in the air around them, and familiar sounds questioned what was going on, but Armin ignored all of them, at least for the moment.

“Annie…?” A weak voice unfamiliar to Armin called, but at how Annie’s body stiffened, she must’ve known who that voice belonged to.

Armin loosened his embrace, and Annie pulled away from him, holding him at arm's length, looking for that voice.

And she saw him.

Annie’s father barely balanced himself on one foot; cane nowhere to be seen, however, upon seeing his daughter for the first time in years, he miraculously walked, darted towards her, tears already streaming down his cheeks.

Annie let go of Armin and ran to her father.

She stood a few feet away from him, tears blurred her vision, and she said in a choked voice: “I’m back, as I promised.”

“You did,” Mr. Leonhart sniffed, his own voice thick with tears, “I’m glad you’re alive.” He took the steps separating them, lifted his hands up and cupped Annie’s cheek, earning a sharp breath from her, he looked into her eyes and said: “I’m proud of you.”

Annie bit her lower lip, suffocating herself with her own sob, caressing her father’s hands on her cheeks…

They collided in a hug at the right moment, for their legs could no longer hold them any longer, they embraced each other and collapsed on the ground.

Annie’s sobs could be heard from miles away, her body rocketing with every inhale for breath, her fingers clutching her father’s clothes, and she rubbed her cheek against his, their tears mixing together. It was new and weird and relieving for them to sense each other’s emotions and touch it physically.

Mr. Leonhart was as miserable as his daughter, except that his crying was muted; no voices could come out his mouth, breath left his lungs, and he felt like he was floating. He rubbed Annie’s back to make sure that his daughter who was breaking in his arms was real and not a mere hallucinating.

But it was real.

Everything was real.

Armin speculated them from afar, the long-awaited family reunion happening in front of him. Seeing Annie showing vulnerability was appalling to him, as well as to the rest of the survey corps whom now was giving Annie curious looks and were gathering around Armin for their unanswered questions.

Heads poking from doors sneaked glimpses around, and slowly emerged, filling a circle around Mr. Leonhart and his daughter, who still were a miserable ball of tears and sobs.

So, they didn’t flee, and the best solution they came up with was to hide in the basements.

Not a bad idea, Armin thought, except that the construction of these buildings was most likely feeble, and the basement would be crushed under the Colossal Titans’ feet.

Armin was pulled away from the evolving crowd by Hanji, his chest a little bit puffed up, he couldn’t help but smile as pride swelled in him, the triumphant he achieved that he brought Annie back to her father, or at least, was part of it.