#solid physical things I could adjust without too much effort and that would make it easier for customers

[bibiana112]

Everyone's always so mad over unsolicited criticism but you know what makes me furious? Unsolicited comfort. Me simply not expressing myself the same way as you is not a sign that I'm depressed and in desperate need for you to come to my rescue, it is not an invitation for you to act like my one pillar of reliability or to act like my friend when you do not know my life, do not know wether I do have support, do not know I chose to be in this position you feel so uncomfortable looking at and on god you just don't get to pity me for living my fucking life the way I want to

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 184,

I think the illness itself has passed, although I’m still recovering after nearly two weeks of little food, rest, or physical activity.  I feel weak, hollowed out both physically and emotionally.  Yet, I cannot deny a strange sort of catharsis.  As if this ragged state is proof of overcoming a great trial, on the other side of which I’ve come out purified, purged of something although I know not what.  

I can walk on my own once more, even if I needs must pause to lean on a wall after a short distance.  Once again I can know the joy of eating solid food, even if a shrunken appetite limits my portions.  Soon, I hope to properly bathe myself once more, even if the water will like as not grow cold ere I finish my ablutions.  

*******

Is there anything so glorious as a vigorous scrubbing after too long without?  Probably, but that does not detract from this feeling of refreshment.  

*******

Shortly after that last entry I realized my bed was bare.  Apparently, Lin took my bedsheets to wash while I bathed.  It seems she was waiting for a moment I wouldn’t be around to object to the aid and left Maiko with instructions to not let me head out to help with the task.  Prescient moves on her part to be sure.  

I feel I owe the two of them so much, although as Lin was quick to point out when she returned, this is literally her job, and even if it wasn’t it’s what friends do for one another.  But she added that if payment for professional services rendered will make me feel better, then I can make it up to her and Maiko by bringing them along on my next “camping trip.”

That exchange aside, the rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a comfortable placidity, alternating between casual banter and companionable silence.  Truthfully, I contributed little to the conversation, content to listen to the sound of friendly voices and making the occasional commentary to let them know I hadn’t passed out.  Even Maiko spoke more than I did.  Come to think of it, she was more talkative than I’d grown used to her being.  Good for her.  

Now though, before I retire for the night, there’s a less happy point I feel I must put to paper.  Whether to call it bad, I’m still conflicted about, for it distresses me less than it perhaps ought to.  

The night before last, I awoke to hands running through my hair and stroking my cheek.  Nearby I could faintly make out a sort of rumbling sound, like a heavy wooden sphere rolling around the inside of a hollow container.  For some reason it brought to mind the purring of a cat, although it really sounded nothing like a purr.  Perhaps some old world associative memory.  There was certainly a sense of deep nostalgia attached to it.  Whatever the case, combined with the repetitive gentle touch, it induced an immeasurably comforting sense of peace and safety.

Which makes the source of these sensations all the more unsettling in retrospect.

My eyes slowly opening, and even more slowly adjusting to the moonlit room I came to realize the nature sprite was crouched by my bed, cradling my head in its hands as it slowly and minutely rocked back and forth.  For a wonder, I did not start or cry out, neither out of surprise nor in an effort to rouse Maiko, whose slumbering form I espied on a chair in the far corner.  Perhaps I was too weak to do so.  But, really, I think it was because in that moment I had no fear of the creature.  Never would I have guessed that its touch could be that gentle, its vocalizations so soothing.

I should have been afraid of that thing.  I should hate it.  But…

But then and there, I felt like nothing so much as the six month old infant that I in so many ways am, suffering, on the verge of tears, and being held by a parent singing a lullaby.  The memory of that moment is a pleasant one, happy even.  And that in and of itself frightens me to dwell on.  Did it do something to me to make me accept it, or is that just a normal human reaction to apparent acts of tender kindness?  My sleepwalking, did the sprite lead me out of the library that night?  And if it did, was it to lure me into the woods once more or to guide me back here where I had a more spacious room with better circulated air and windows letting in sunlight?

Once more I find myself unable to reconcile the actions of the inhuman as I ask myself what am I to it?  And the perhaps more troubling question, what is it to me?

I’ve not mentioned any of this to Lin or Maiko, but perhaps I ought to.  They both already know about the time the laund my encou what happe the other incident.

<==Previous          Next==>

[howdoyousleep3]

where’s that hc about bucky learning to touch 🤲

I was hoping someone would notice that tag and hit me up. Thank you, sweet pea. This one is special to me, one of many. ❤

Bucky doesn’t say much about what happened to him after the fall and before Steve was miraculously given a second chance at a life with him. Steve is thankful for that. The details he does know come from Bucky’s therapist and from files that have been scrounged up over time, ones Steve can’t stomach through, ones he hands to Natasha and asks only for the information she finds pertinent.

Steve is sure he’d die of a goddamn broken heart if he knew every detail of Bucky’s 70+ years of brainwashed torture.

What he needs to know about Bucky is constant and will never change: this is James Barnes, the one in the same Steve spent his entire life falling in love with, Steve loves him now more than ever, and he is going to live every day he’s gifted with in this life for Bucky.

There are things Steve expects after Bucky joins him and the others back at the Tower, things Bruce has helped him comprehend in such a volatile predicament.

“It could take months, years even, for him to come back to you in full. And honestly, Steve...I would be ready for the possibility of him not returning to you in full. This may not end up being the Bucky you knew and grew up with. He needs therapy, needs patience, needs reminders of his life before, of who he was and is. This won’t be easy, Steve.”

Anything for Bucky.

There are things Bucky took to right away and other things that took much longer for him to enjoy or remember. Steve is with him every step of the way.

Sleep was one thing that Steve thought would be a struggle. After only one month of sleeping on the floor in the corner of his bedroom, Steve able to hear him tossing and turning and breathing heavily through his own bedroom wall, it took one afternoon nap on the couch to make him want to move to his new bed. While nightmares continued, Bucky slept albeit in small increments and sometimes through the day, but he slept.

Steve thought that would take years.

Crowds were another story. Crowds came with trust and Bucky rightfully didn’t trust others easily. He barely trusted Steve at first. It took time to get him out of the apartment, baby steps, one step forward and two steps back. They started with walks at dawn, fewer people, gave a shot at stopping for coffee on the way home a few times.

“It’s a Venti here, Buck,” Steve had tried to explain and Bucky huffed. “Why are things so goddamn complicated now? Just want a coffee, a—”

“I know— a black coffee with too much sugar. I got it.”

They’re working on interactions with others and the anxiety that comes with crowds. That one will take time.

What hadn’t taken time, and what startled everyone in the tower beyond belief, was Bucky and affection.

Steve may not know much of what Bucky has spent most of his life enduring but he at least had the assumption that what Bucky went through shouldn’t make him want any kind of touch from another person. Steve wrongfully assumed that any sort of gentle or soft touch wasn't something Bucky would like.

Bucky had spent the past 70+ years walking this earth as a killer, a robot, a machine, an assassin. He surely spent decades thinking he wasn’t worthy of anything, let alone love. He had been touch-starved, void of the tenderness and closeness Steve knows Bucky deserved and craved underneath the brainwashed parts of him.

It took time for Bucky to remember who Steve was to him. While he had recognized him immediately, remembering him but not how, it took months for Bucky to remembered the capacity in which he did so.

And Steve waited.

And waited.

Steve was gifted with small moments along the way, on this journey of Bucky remembering both himself and who Steve was to him:

“You...you were real small once,” Bucky said, factual with no trace of a question, hands in soapy water as he handed Steve a plate to dry. Steve had merely hummed. “Yeah, was...was maybe half the size I am now. Real small.”

“Could fit both’a my hands right around your middle…”

It had been a long while since Steve blushed like that.

Bucky standing over Steve’s sleeping form, heaving chest visible by only the filtered moonlight, Steve mumbling out a, “Buck, wha—?” before Bucky whispered, “You...you’ve been inside of me.” Steve sat up.

“I have,” Steve breathed, on cautious ground, shakier when Bucky then whispered, “But you like it better when I’m inside’a you.”

When Steve had swallowed audibly, nodded his head wordlessly, Bucky had turned and left the room.

It took months of moments like those to compile together, to form the picture of what Steve once was, what he yearned to continue to be, to Bucky. All of these moments, these memories, came to a head so unpredictably during yet another movie night. Knees knocking, fingers brushing, small touches that Steve absolutely soaked in, had gotten used to, had relearned.

When a glance towards Bucky had the wind knocking its way out of Steve’s chest, the familiarity of that look a bone-deep ache—

Bucky was going to kiss him.

A look full of determination and want, lips parted, eyes a bit glassy. Steve didn't dare move, had let Bucky come to him for fear of scaring him away. The moment their lips touched was the moment Bucky started crying. It had only been a short brush of their lips but Steve barely breathed, barely moved. Bucky had pulled back with wide, wet eyes, shaky breaths. “Buck, it’s okay. It’s okay. Everything’s alright, sweetheart,” are the words that easily slipped from his mouth, unable to stop them in a moment of progress that satiated his entire being.

That was the moment that changed everything. It was a startle to everyone involved. Steve had been ready to wait years, this entire life, for the moment he could touch Bucky again, could show him that physicality he knew his Buck craved. After that night on the couch it was as if the floodgates had opened—

Bucky remembered and wanted.

Regardless of where they were or what was happening, he wanted to be touching Steve: soft kisses on the cheek and lips, laying his head in Steve’s lap as he read, lacing his fingers between Steve’s during meetings, an arm wrapped around Steve’s waist between bouts of sparring. He’d trace patterns onto Steve’s thigh as he watched Steve draw, press against the line of his back while he cooked dinner.

Steve was floating on a cloud, was in heaven, never happier. It was perfection.

But what Bucky wanted, Steve couldn’t provide, couldn’t meet. Steve was only one man, couldn’t provide Bucky, whom touch had been stolen away from for decades, with everything he wanted. And that was okay, something Steve accepted, because there were other people Bucky could turn to that Steve trusted.

“I’m sure you all know why I asked you to meet with me,” Steve started, choosing a time Bucky was napping to meet with the rest of the group that either lived in or frequented the Tower. “Bucky has shown us a new side of him, has made some progress I think it’s worth discussing with everyone, since we’re all...we’ve all been affected...”

“Uhh, yeah— your Barnes-y boy has been all over me lately. I’m almost offended that everyone else is here to talk to Cap though. Thought he was just comin' onto me.”

“I have to tell you, I didn’t...I know we talked, Steve. But I’m honestly shocked at Bucky’s progress. It’s baffling.”

“I haven’t minded it. He lets me braid his hair.”

“Wait— y’all are getting touches?”

It was a group effort, supporting Bucky in this way. It was an adjustment, Bucky never prompting and questioning before touching or requesting touches— he just went for it. He was quiet still, not shy, merely observant. And just like he nudged at and leaned against Steve until his hands were on him, he did the same to others.

“I just ask that you show Bucky grace during this time. It’s a delicate situation. I need to know if you don’t want his touch or don’t wish to give him any kind of touch. I think it would be best if it came from me instead of from you in the moment.”

Natasha was who Bucky went to for scratches. Steve thinks it’s the nails. Steve also thinks Nat is Bucky’s favorite to go to for touches, even over him, but Bucky refuses to admit it.

When Bucky wants mindless touches, when he wants tickles and scratches, he goes to her. She naturally took to Bucky’s need for touches, the first occurrence one that came without hesitation. She’ll braid his hair, let him turn his head right where he wants her head scratches, naturally reaches for his back or shoulders to run her nails across when he saddles in close to her.

Thor is one of Bucky’s favorites too. Steve isn’t sure if it’s because of his strength or because of his warm and accepting demeanor but Bucky gravitates towards Thor often, mainly for neck and shoulder rubs. One, “James, my friend. You musn’t be afraid of asking for touch with me. I will always be willing to assist,” and that was all Bucky needed to feel comfortable walking over to Thor and nudging at his hands.

He puts his head on Bruce’s shoulder as soon as he can, likes sparring and playing hide and seek with Clint, enjoys putting his feet in Sam’s lap. Tony took some warming up to, but even then Bucky spent many hours in Tony’s lab, Tony guiding his hands, showing him what to do and how to work different machines, the two of them tinkering on his own arm.

Bucky kinda turns into the Tower kitty cat, wandering around quietly, napping in the sun, snacking, demanding affection from anyone he crosses paths with and trusts.

Everyone had their form of touch they shared with Bucky and Bucky absolutely blossomed under this form of support. Steve is forever grateful to be surrounded by a group of understanding individuals.

And every night when he lifts the comforter and feels the solid line of Bucky’s warm form against his side, the arm that now easily and inevitably slips around his waist, the familiar lips that always press against his temple, shoulder, and cheek, Steve is reminded this day was for Bucky and that the one they’ll wake up to will also be for him.

"I love you, Buck."

"Mhmm love you too, pal."

Steve doesn't even mind that Bucky spends his nights snoring in the crook of his neck, hot breath wafting over Steve's skin, hands grabby even as he dreams—

This is heaven.

[todoscript]

SYNOPSIS: Years of memories pouring out, Katsuki and Shouto confront their feelings for you in your very hospital room.

pairing(s): bakugou katsuki x fem!reader, todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: angst.

word count: 4.5k+

warnings: really self-indulgent fic, characters are aged-up, implied sexual content, mentions of drinking alcohol, jealousy, reader identifies as female with she/her pronouns, 

author’s note: so i found this pretty old wip i wrote before i made my blog, and after reading it over, i decided hey why not publish it? so i finished it up, did some cleaning, and heres what we got. sorry if it seems kind of shaky, i did my best with what i initially had!

“Bakugou… what are you doing here?”

Shouto enters the room with freshly bought peonies in his hands—one of the many dozen he had brought to this hospital already—his steps coming to a halt at the sight of the Explosion Hero near your hospital bed. Katsuki looks up and narrows his eyes, aggravated by the offender’s question.

“What? You got a fucking problem with me being here?” He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb the entire hospital wing, knowingly admitting to how loud he could be. But that doesn’t suppress the bite in his tone.

“Just because you’re her fucking boyfriend doesn’t mean you’re the only one that’s allowed to worry about her,” he nearly spits, and Shouto’s face mirrors Katsuki’s own irked expression.

You have been unconscious for a week now. The cause of this incident was due to your encounter with a dangerous villain who had been wanted by the police for quite some time. Months of evading capture down the drain, the villain had unfortunately ran into you as you patrolled the streets during your nightly shift.

In the end, you won the fight, but at the cost of damage done to your body and overuse of your quirk. As a result, you entered an unconscious state, recovering in this hospital bed to be monitored by medical staff throughout each day. The doctors assured them that you would eventually wake up but will need time to heal on your own through rest.

Ever since the day you’ve been admitted here, Shouto has been visiting your bedside. However, this is the first time Katsuki’s shown up.

Shouto only points a glare to the blond, ignoring him while he sets his bouquet down next to your bed. He notices the already present vase of hydrangeas, surmising that Katsuki must have brought them. He places his bundle of peonies beside them.

The dual-haired man sits on the opposite side of the bed from Katsuki, whose attention is brought back to the girl’s sleeping face, patched with wraps and bandages as a result of your tribulations with the villains.

If I had finished my jobs quicker, I would’ve been able to see you the moment you had to stay in this damn hospital. The thoughts ring in Katsuki’s head, hands clenched into fists out of frustration.

Knowing you had to deal with that whack job of a villain on your own—that your overprotective and valiant nature wouldn’t allow you to let this criminal walk away when you encountered him, and that they weren’t there to prevent you from getting like this—killed both him and Shouto on the inside. They especially hated not knowing when you would wake up or if what the doctors said about you eventually regaining consciousness would even be true.

Shouto takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. Katsuki catches him pressing delicate kisses against your lightly bruised knuckles from the corner of his eye, the young man not caring that he was performing these intimate acts in the presence of another man. Shouto especially did this in order to make a solid point:

She’s mine.

Katsuki knew very well how possessive Shouto could be while he was in their presence. And honestly, he couldn’t blame him. If he got to call you his and keep you all to himself, he’d make sure everyone knew they couldn’t have you—that your smile and attention were all his and his alone. But in this case, they weren’t, and all he could settle for were envious emotions and fantasies of what could’ve been.

•

•

•

Bakugou Katsuki’s feelings for you date back to as early as your high school years at U.A.

At first, he wasn’t entirely sure what made these feelings arise. Having his goal of becoming the Number One hero plastered at the forefront of his head made romance and love trivial concepts down his path. Katsuki had no time to be chasing after girls, going on dates, and devoting a chunk of his time to a partner.

However, at one point, things started to change. He felt ripples affect the still waters that were his life, and he noticed that only you could calm this torrent. You were the one person he sought comfort in, the one person that understood who he was and why he acted the way he did. And the one person who mended him physically and mentally without belittling his character or crushing his pride.

Through all of that, Katsuki had begun to appreciate and admire all the little things about you. Like your beaming smile and the twinkle in the lovely hues of your eyes that you’d give him as you two interacted. It was such a welcomed contrast to the fearful looks the other students would have etched on their faces whenever he so much as called out their name.

He always took note of how you adjusted his food to his preferences during times you were assigned to cook that night at the dorms. And how you’d go and try to tend to him after training, when his muscles ached and his bruises were settling into his skin.

At first, Katsuki thought of it as a sign of weakness—to accept help from someone else when at his most vulnerable state. Yet you were persistent.

He recalls a particular memory after a battle during his internship where he was reduced to resting in bed to recover. Not many of his classmates came up to check on him during that time. Mainly because they figured he wouldn’t bother to open his door for them anyway. Though one night, he heard a knock sounding from his door. He glanced up from his bed, already thinking about ignoring the visitor in favor of staying in bed to rest, but a voice spoke beyond the threshold.

“Katsuki? I hope you’re not asleep yet. It’s not much, but I made you a little something to help you get better.” He didn’t reply upon recognizing your voice, hesitating to see what you’d do if he didn’t respond.

There was a pause of silence until you eventually continued. “Well, I’ll leave this in front of your door for you to have… If not, I’ll come back and retrieve it, okay?” That was the last you said before Katsuki picked up a light clank near the bottom of the entrance. Afterward, feet padded lightly down the hallway till they returned to the elevator to descend to the bottom floors, and the blond was by himself once again.

He weighed the option of leaving whatever you left for him untouched, but knowing you made an effort to arrive at his door to check on him caused him to waver. Before he knew it, his feet treaded to the spot to discover a hot plate of curry at his doorstep, followed by a note and painkillers. The plate perched on one of his hands, he opened the letter with the other.

Get better soon! We’ll be waiting for you!

Closing the note, he tossed it on his desk before plopping down on the edge of his bed with the plate of curry in his lap. It steamed and dispersed heat on his sore thighs, piping hot and ready to eat.

He gripped his spoon between his fingers, an irregular grin surfacing his lips. He scooped up the spicy bits of curry, gobbling the dish down to its very last grain of rice until the plate was clean. And in that time, every bite he brought to his mouth made him think of you.

“Dumbass, there’s no way I’m falling behind.” Feeling thoroughly full, he transferred the finished plate to his desk, where he had left the note. Before he had even realized it, he reached out for the paper, glancing over the words one last time. He fished a pen from his drawer and scribed a reply of his own for when you would return for the dirty plate.

Thanks, dumbass. It was good.

•

•

•

The Icy-Hot Hero, Todoroki Shouto, loved you too much to let you go.

You were the girl that shaped him to become the person he is today—who taught him to embrace himself for who he was and not let his past define him and what he stood for. You were the person that brought him out from the dark hole he trapped himself in and cast him into warm light. You’ve stuck together through thick and thin throughout your journey to becoming Pro Heroes, protecting one another and watching each other’s backs. It wasn’t long before he noticed his feelings for you had developed into more complicated emotions. Emotions that made butterflies flutter in his stomach and his face unusually hot whenever he even glanced in your direction. As he began to actively seek you out for comfort and support, he thought of you differently in comparison to all of his other classmates.

Initially, these foreign feelings troubled him. Yet, he could never quite piece together why you could garner such flustered reactions.

Then after consoling these newfound sensations with his close friends and family, he realized that you meant so much more to him than just a classmate, an ally, a colleague. Todoroki Shouto was—is—in love with you.

And the feeling was mutual.

Whether it was the intense looks you two sent as your gazes naturally drifted to each other or how your hands would always brush across soft and calloused knuckles in a silent plea to lace your fingers together, it wasn’t long before he discovered that his feelings for you were reciprocated.

Interestingly, you and Shouto never had to confess anything to each other. Your feelings came almost naturally for you both like you were telepathically linked and on the same wavelength. You came to one another like magnets attracted to their opposite poles, and in just a blink, your lips had met one day, and you took each other’s first kiss.

From then on was the start of many more “firsts.”

Shouto remembers the first time he let you hang out in his dorm room, talking about simple things like school, studying, and internships.

He remembers your first date to a cafe his older sister recommended—the one with flavorful milk teas he knew you’d take a liking to, with bountiful flowers decorating the interior of the tea house.

He remembers inviting you into his home to meet his older siblings, have dinner with them, and letting his family get to know you as his significant other.

He remembers taking you to see his mother at the psychiatric ward his wretched father had admitted her to, finally letting the two most significant women in his life meet and watching as his mother took a relieved liking to the girl he loves.

He remembers the tension that hovered in the air over an argument you two had one day, which was eventually mended through communication and reaffirmations of love.

He remembers embracing you in his bed, devoid of nothing but yourselves in your purest forms, eliciting sweet sounds from your lips that intoxicated him with lust and drove him to desire more and more until he monopolized every crevice of your body—every ounce of your soul—and intended to burn your beautiful, sinful image into his memory.

He remembers so much of the little things and the significant things about your love that he could never, ever hand you over to anyone else. Less of all to Bakugou Katsuki.

•

•

•

Katsuki was one of the first people to notice that they were in a relationship.

At first, it wasn’t obvious. The two made a point to keep their romantic bond a secret among their classmates and teachers not to complicate things and be the subject of teasing. They also considered the fact they needed to focus on their studies and hero training. Kisses and other affectionate touches were done behind closed doors or whenever they knew no eyes could discover them. These sneaky tactics proved to be effective and not many questioned them about relationships, aside from the occasional girls/boys talk they’d do. They’d ask each other things like “who would you date” and “don’t you think ‘so-and-so’ is cute” and many other curious asks. Their answers to these inquiries were inconspicuous enough that most of their friends didn’t suspect much of anything. Except for Katsuki.

Katsuki was never one to pick apart details, not as much as his childhood rival, Deku, anyway. But the more he looked at them, the more he was aware of the particular hints and their subtleties of tenderness. Such as the way the red-and-white-haired boy would perk up at the sound of your name or the chime of your voice from across the dormitory’s common area. Or the way you two would hover around each other more often than you would your classmates as if maximizing the most of your time together in public. Or how you’d go on small study dates together and hold each other’s hand underneath the table in the library, thinking no one would notice.

Perhaps, the most significant indication, however, was the expressions on each of their faces.

Maybe Katsuki had started becoming very hyper-aware, unraveling your mannerisms and making out even the smallest of singularities, but he felt your faces alone were an obvious giveaway.

The looks you gave each other were ones harboring nothing but pure love and adoration. He could discern the glow you exuded simply basking one another’s presence. Those looks weren’t ones you would give to a close friend; they were something more. He would know. That look Shouto gives is the same one Katsuki has for you, after all.

Except, his is never reciprocated.

That pretty smile, the flustered expression across your cheeks, the sparkling hues of your eyes—all those little details were reserved for Shouto, not Katsuki.

It hurt to know that the gaze you give Katsuki wouldn’t ever be the same one you give to Shouto. Katsuki knows this, and yet he still can’t seem to get past you.

The moment he was aware of his feelings—reluctantly fathoming the fact that you were with Shouto—Katsuki did everything in his power to stop these feelings.

No, not just stop. He had to get rid of them. Cut any connection with them. Dealing with an aching heart was too much work and pain for a boy with heavy aspirations to bear. So he ignored you—erased you. He didn’t so much as spare you even a glance as if you were just another extra. Whenever you appeared, he made a move to leave, spouting excuses such as “I’m going to sleep,” or “I don’t have time to be around you losers,” the usual Bakugou Katsuki response to any form of unnecessary socializing. He had to act like you didn’t exist, put his mind on something else—anything else.

But darn that girl and her need to check on and care for other people.

Noticing something was wrong with the boy, you sought Katsuki out, cornering him. You asked him what was wrong, to which Katsuki gritted his teeth, unable to look at you in the eyes, knowing that those feelings would bubble up inside him again as they conjured troublesome butterflies in the pits of his stomach. Yet it was no use.

He couldn’t deny that he missed those times together—when you would patch up his wounds and bruises after training or when you’d let him try out your spicy ailments before half-and-half because you always knew he had a preference for spicy foods. He still had it bad for you.

And he continued to harbor those feelings even after you all graduated after your third year at U.A.

The heroes-in-training were ready to take on the real world as Pro Heroes and sidekicks. By then, you and Shouto had admitted to the class about your relationship. Some were surprised, while others, specifically the girls, expressed their rounds of “I knew it!” likely noticing the chemistry between the two long before. Katsuki had decided to play dumb and acted like this announcement meant completely nothing to him. Just useless news. That was what he told himself, anyway.

After that, Katsuki didn’t see much of the couple around. All of them were busy with work and trying to get their names out in the public to compete on the Billboard Hero Chart.

Which was good news for him. With his goal of becoming the Number One Hero still lodged into his head, the blond threw himself into his heroic duties. Often, he didn’t stop, persisting on job after job until the agency he was under forced him to take breaks whenever they deemed necessary for his health. In those times, Katsuki found himself slowly forgetting about you. But occasionally, he’d see glimpses of you again.

As expected of one of the graduates under Class A of U.A., you were definitely making a name for yourself and propelling in popularity. Whether he wanted to or not, Katsuki would see articles and advertisements glowing with your resplendent features plastered on headlines, covered by your hero name.

God, did you look as beautiful as always. Katsuki would think before jolting his mind back to reality, remembering that you weren’t his to ogle.

The last part was hard to bear, especially when his former class announced a reunion party at a restaurant Momo had reserved for them when everyone had hit the legal drinking age. Katsuki was definitely not keen on going. However, his friend Kirishima had convinced him to come along through relentless persistence.

Ultimately, he attended the reunion. He and Eijirou arrived together and appeared relatively earlier. Well, earlier than at least half the class anyway. Eventually, more of their former classmates trickled into the food establishment and greeted one another with boisterous cheers all around. Which, unfortunately for him, included the people Katsuki dreaded to see the most—you and Shouto.

Your hand was already laced with half-and-half’s when you two entered, resulting in some of their classmates teasing you about your public display of affection. Both didn’t mind though. Over the years, you’ve grown quite comfortable with hand-holding and even hugging in the open.

You know who did mind? A certain explosion hero, of course.

Save that shit for when I don’t have to fucking see it. He almost hissed out loud but bit his tongue at the last second.

To his luck, you had ended up sitting next to him, with Shouto at your left. Though you were sandwiched between two guys from your former class who were infatuated with you, Katsuki felt like he was more suffocated than you were.

The reunion that night went by relatively smoothly. You would chime in some small talk with Katsuki during certain intervals of time while everyone was holding their own conversations in the background. He did his best to keep his cool and not let himself act like a high schooler in love. To some degree, he thought his facade had worked as he played off his usual “Bakugou responses,” albeit with a lot less yelling and venom in comparison to how he spoke to everyone back in high school. Dare he say, he might have even softened up a bit. What he didn’t notice was Shouto glancing at him from the corner of his eye while in the middle of a conversation with Midoriya.

The night continued with rounds of alcohol poured across the table of twenty-one heroes. They made their cheers before helping themselves to their spirits. Conveniently, Shouto and Katsuki were very adept at holding their drinks. You? You weren’t as great. By the end of the night, you passed out from how drunk you were and had ended up laying your head on the table, head floaty and light.

By then, everyone else had left aside from maybe five or so people. Momo graciously helped the couple secure a cab home safely for the night, and Shouto had gotten up to help confirm some information. Katsuki was left to his own devices with you next to him.

His eyes couldn’t help but wander toward your form. You were so vulnerable in front of him, with your soft lips, splayed hair, and long eyelashes turned in his direction for him to see. Though a bit of that smell of alcohol lingered, he could still make out the flowery aroma you always gave off. You smelled of lavenders, daisies, roses—every fucking flower under the sun—with a hint of honey. Your scent intoxicated him. He started to wonder if this is how you smelled like at home, or if your scent became even more potent whenever you appeared fresh out of the shower and—

Katsuki hadn’t realized his hand had subconsciously gone up to brush a stray hair from your face until he managed to pull himself away from his thoughts. Thankfully, he retracted his hand back before committing himself to the act. But the gesture did not go unnoticed by the heterochromatic-eyed man who had appeared again to gather you in his arms.

Shouto had taken his coat and wrapped it around you before hooking his arms beneath you to cradle your body.

“Mm, Shouto…” you hummed against him, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled further into him while on the verge of sleep. Katsuki’s heart throbbed hearing those half-dazed murmurs that left your lips, which hovered so close to that bastard’s neck. He wanted the privilege of holding you close and taking care of you at your most vulnerable.

“Come on, love, we’re going home,” he said fondly at your resting state. Katsuki didn’t catch the cold glare Shouto sent his way as he looked elsewhere to avoid the couple’s intimacy right in front of him. All he could hear after that was the engine of their cab rumbling in the distance, trailing back to their humble abode.

•

•

•

“...I know.” Shouto finally breaks the silence within the hospital room, eyes still trained on his beloved as he rubs his thumb across your knuckles to the base of your hand.

Katsuki looks up at his words incredulously. “The fuck is that suppose to mean.” He narrows his brows into a pressed glare.

“I know that you’re in love with her.”

Katsuki deadpanned, his eyes wavering at the man’s declaration. Should he deny it? Make it seem as if the icy-hot head was delusional? No. He knows that the signs must have been obvious coming from the one man in his way of vying for your attention, the man that would go to so many lengths for you that he’d travel to the moon and back in a heartbeat if it were in your name. Katsuki can’t pry himself out of this one.

He takes a glance at you. Was this really the place to be confronting him about this? In the presence of your unconscious state resting in this hospital bed between them?

“And what about it?” Katsuki counters his claims.

“I don’t plan on letting her go no matter what.” As if to make a point on his words, Shouto’s hold on your limp hand is firm, unmoving. He slowly shifts his gaze to the ash blond, crossing his look of anger. “So stop playing this game.”

When the words travel across the hollow hospital room and to Katsuki’s ears, his fists tighten in response. “Game? Game?!” He raises his voice, body shaking. “You think my feelings are some sort of joke to you?! That I’m only looking at her like this for fun?!” His eyes find Shouto’s blue and gray, red with ire. The young man in front of him is unfazed in the wake of his indignation.

“Let me tell you something fucking straight…” Katsuki starts, stepping forward, finger pointing fiercely in Shouto’s direction. “I won’t deny anything I feel for her at this point. I’m in love with her, alright?” he admits without hesitance and notices the subtle quirk of Icy-Hot’s brow. “And I’ll tell you that if she were mine, she wouldn’t have gotten in this position in the first place.”

Those words are what finally make Shouto’s unnatural composure crumble. He releases your hand to stand from his place and face the blond at eye level. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Crossing his arms, Katsuki scoffs at the question.

“You’d think I’d even let that villain get near her if this was gonna happen?” He gestures in the direction of your patched-up form, asleep and littered with bruises. “If she were looking at me, I would’ve already been on the scene to back her up. And just what were you doing, huh? Helping old ladies cross the street?” Katsuki is unfiltered as he hurls his insults, but three years of dealing with him as a classmate has made Shouto immune to his temperament.

“Let me get this through your head then. She was never looking at you. She was looking at me.”

Ouch. The blond would be lying if those words didn’t stir a pot of hurt inside him.

“And as both her partner and a fellow Pro Hero, I more than trusted her enough to finish the job on her own. Even if this isn’t a game to you, you’re already losing a battle you can’t hope to win.”

“Not sure why you’re the one calling the shots for her,” Katsuki quips. How ironic the girl they’re both fighting over lays comatose in this very bed between them.

The atmosphere is layered in dreadful silence afterward. The monitor next to you beeps in eery succession. It is the only thing heard in the hospital room that is wrapped in tension so taut it is bound to snap at any moment.

The knot of strife is undone by the door sliding open to reveal a nurse entering the uneasy state of the room.

“Mister Bakugou and Mister Todoroki, I’m sorry, but visiting hours at the hospital are closed for the evening,” she informs them as the two had yet to realize the sky veiled darkening orange with the setting of the sun. Eyeing the clipboard hugged to her chest, they knew it was about time for the hospital to assess your condition again.

The two make their leave, taking the time to thank the nurse before doing so, but the suffocating tension follows them even outside the hospital. They don’t speak a word afterwards, only sharing bristled looks and heavy steps until they’re forced to head off in their respective paths, not sparing any more kindness.

To Shouto, Katsuki would never understand the lengths he’d go for you because Katsuki could also never experience what the two of you went through together in the same way. All those years together, forging unforgettable memories of love and tenderness, could never be replicated.

But the blond isn’t bothered by those facts. It doesn’t unnerve him that he was unable to encounter all those firsts with you because in his mind, he’ll just create new memories—ones that you’ve never experienced and ones that will make him the last and only person you’ll ever want by your side. He’ll blow fucking Icy-Hot out of the atmosphere.

ending note: heyyy congrats if you’ve made it to the end. i think at the time i was writing this, i had an idea on how to progress the fic, but i decided to leave it on this. not particularly sure if i’m going to continue this, i may just leave it up to your interpretation. does katsuki steal the readers heart? does shouto protect his love from being severed in front of him? will the reader even wake up? find out on the next episode of dragon ball z

[isagisyoichi]

YOU MAKE ME FEEL SPECIAL!

SYNOPSIS: niko as your boyfriend

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: niko ikki aka my boyfriend hello

WARNINGS: swearing, pretend all the boys go to the same school and they're all friends for plot, normalize not writing serious boys as someone that practically hates their s/o and never opens up to them god bless, also no such thing as ooc since we dunno shit ab him so everything i say is law. SUPER LONG LOL, it's like 2k+ words 😭

A/N: i love my boyfriend and i'm v happy about all the attention he's getting (even if he will prob will b subbed out 👎) this was fun to write bc i think he would b very soft as bf and also i hate the notion that stoic and serious = boring and detached in a relationship. also first post w the new user yayyyy rip yoichisagis an end of an era for realsies.

FOR: fox anon my beloved this one is for u😩

it takes a while for you two to get together, just because niko wants to think things through and be sure he’s making the right decision, as well as him being naturally apprehensive about this whole dating thing.

when you do eventually start going out, keep in mind you're probably his first real anything, so-

niko needs to take it slow for the first month or so because he needs time to adjust and get used to being in a relationship.

when he gets comfortable around you, niko starts to talk a lot more.

niko starts to talk about his interests more-soccer, stem stuff (idc i'll die by my hc that he's a stem boy), etc. and niko's really happy that you're genuinely interested in what he has to say :)

and as your relationship progresses, niko becomes more inclined to share his inner thoughts.

“this song is so bad, i hate it and how it's everywhere,” like, babe that sucks, but what do you want me to do, take it off the radio myself? 😭

you find out that niko’s kind of a hater LOL, but it’s okay, because it means he can be himself around you <3 and the mini debates you have with each other are fun.

he’s someone you can take shopping with you if you need a solid second opinion.

“ikki, is this cute?” you niko as you adjust the shirt you tried on in the fitting room mirror.

“no.” he’s so straight up LOL. “the blue one from earlier was better.”

“this one?”

“yeah, that one. you look really pretty in it.”

ngl though, niko’s not much of a mall person. he'd just follow you around like a little puppy LOL, but he doesn't mind too much because it's for you.

communication is important to niko!!!!! he wants someone that he can have real conversation about the things that matter to him, so he rly makes an effort to have that kind of connection with you.

niko's naturally funny but he isn't aware that he is lol.

but when he does try, i feel like his humor comes in the form of sarcasm and dry wit. likes poking fun at you here and there with a lighthearted jab.

"you're so weird, y/n," is the most common one.

niko’s naturally closed off emotionally (male aquarius 😒) but i, personally, think he’d really try and push himself to be more open with you, especially if you expressed for him to do so </3

he'd be really appreciative of someone patient and understanding of the fact that he doesn't open up easily, though.

but eventually, you become the person closest to him- niko confides in you a lot, which he’s grateful for because he usually holds everything in.

not one for pda or other lovey-dovey things in public, other than the occasional holding of hands but behind closed doors, niko’s so soft around you, it’s like he’s a completely different person.

also, i feel like niko’s real handsy with you, i get the vibe he’s super touch starved 😭

although it does take him a while to get used to physical affection, once he has, niko cannot get enough. he’s always touching you when he has no real reason to.

(and because you're his first relationship, i feel like it’s just natural that niko’s going to be kind of clingy towards you.)

“you okay, ikki?” you ask as niko suddenly wraps his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“mhm,” he mumbles. “just wanna be close to you.”

niko likes when you sit on his lap when he’s on his computer. you can have your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting in the crook of his neck, or you could just be on your phone or whatever, it doesn’t matter, niko just likes you near him.

you guys don’t really talk to each other when you do this, aside from niko occasionally checking up on you and asking if you need anything from him.

but other than that, you guys just enjoy each other's touch in silence. it’s one of his favorite things to do with you.

however, if you start kissing him in the middle of whatever he’s doing and keep it up for long enough, niko will drop everything to make out with you right then and there (also one of his favorite things to do with you).

speaking of kissing- you kiss niko first.

niko would try to plan your guys first kiss out because he wants everything to be perfect.

but, he ends up taking forever to execute it because he keeps overthinking and you can only wait so long before kissing him, so you take matters into your own hands.

his kisses are sloppy and juvenile at the beginning, but he’s smart and learns quickly what you do and don’t like.

likes being kissed on his jaw and forehead the most :')

if the team ever happens to see niko kissing you, they're gonna be so annoying 😭

"yooo niko's making big moves ‼️" "my son's growing up on me!😩" "good job *pats on the back*" and niko is red all over as he drags you away from them, muttering about how childish and annoying they are 😭.

but, they're all very supportive of you guys, even if they're embarrassing as hell 🙄.

they even give niko relationship advice- which luckily, he doesn’t follow (most of the time), because, let’s be honest, if you're getting unsolicited dating tips from a bunch of teenage boys, it’s probably bad 😭.

you’re the only person niko shows his forehead to. just know that having the opportunity to see it means that niko trusts you more than anyone else :’)

repay his trust by kissing his forehead lovingly and showering him with compliments whenever you can !!!!!!!!!!

“y/n, why’re you so embarrassing,” niko says under his breath, blushing as you hold his face and litter soft kisses on his forehead, rambling about how cute he is.

always looks for you in the bleachers when he has a game and you’re always the first person he talks to after.

and the fact that you make an effort to come as often as you can means sooo much to him. definitely considers you to be his biggest fan.

real classy with nicknames- uses “my love/love,” and “darling,” the most.

his favorite petname from you is "pretty boy." gives him butterflies each time he hears it.

the first time you call him that, he's confused, but after you explain that being called pretty is basically the highest compliment a boy can receive, he gets all soft on you.

only uses instagram to like and comment on your pictures and that's it 😭.

comments stuff like “you're so pretty” and "beautiful," without any emojis because niko refuses to use them LOL.

remembers the compliments you give him! they help with his self esteem and i feel like he values your opinion a lot.

so, tell him all about how cute and smart and talented and hot and funny he is and how much you love him and he'll replay it in his head 24/7.

i think he prefers to be the big spoon, unless he's sad- then he really wants you to hold him.

niko gives me homebody vibes, so expect relaxed dates, but still nice, yk?

what i mean is niko's not gonna take you out to get gas station food and call it a day 😭 he's classier than that and he always puts in effort towards dates.

he always plans them ahead of time and takes into consideration what he thinks you'd enjoy. and he insists on paying 🤗.

but, niko always does something special for days like your birthday or an anniversary, like go somewhere fancy if you wanted to or buy a nice gift you've been eyeing for a while.

helps you with your schoolwork, 100%. most of the time niko tutors you because he wants you to actually learn the material, but if you're feeling lazy and just wanna get it over with, niko will just give you the answers.

this is a big deal because i love him and all but, niko gives me the vibe he's super stingy with his work 😭.

"this is the last time i'm going to just give you the answers, y/n." niko sighs out. "you have to start doing your homework by yourself."

niko's said that dozen of times but he's still giving you the answers free of charge. can you guys say #whipped 🤣?

LOL speaking of school, if you ever text him during class, i highly doubt that niko would entertain you 😭😭 (it's out of love, though)

y/n 💗: hiii baby imy 🥰

pretty boy: do your work, y/n.

y/n 💗: ALL I DID WAS SAY HI

pretty boy: pay attention.

y/n 💗: fine ur so lame 👎

pretty boy: whatever you say. i miss you too, by the way.

he likes to moves your hair out your face because he wants to see your pretty face better.

which is why you have to do the same with him 🥰!!!!!! makes him blush like crazy.

gets soooo soft when you post him or even take pictures of you and him together :') just the thought of you wanting to show him off makes him soooo happy.

he won't entertain you if you make a tiktok, though LOL. he's very stubborn in his belief that it's stupid.

just stands in the background with his arms crossed if you try to make him do a dance or something 😭 (he does think you look cute, though).

niko has such nice eyelashes but i doubt he's aware of it 'cause he's, y'know, a boy 🙄.

"my eyelashes are ... cute?" he questions. niko wasn't even aware that such a trivial thing like his eyelashes could be considered cute.

"yes, oh my god," you gush. "they're so long and nice, i wish mine were like that," you groan, examining yours through the camera of your phone.

"you're so weird, y/n," he says, a blush staining his cheeks. "your eyelashes are nicer," he mumbles as he kisses your forehead.

he's one of those people that prefers to be alone, but you're the exception. you know?

niko likes to keep to himself most of the time, but that whole thing doesn't apply to you, because he'd choose to be with you over being alone anytime :')

[candyflosstoxicity]

Wanna Be Your Setting Lotion

Endeavor x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Power imbalance. Unsafe sex. Creampie. Breeding kink. Breath play. Pain play.

Despite the sizable uptick in his popularity after triumphing over the High-End Nomu, Enji still felt that his ability to relate to the everyday civilians was sorely lacking. There was still some doubt amongst the masses that he could be a suitable replacement for All Might. As much as that stung his ego, Enji knew that their misgivings weren’t unfounded.

He had promised his son that he would become a hero that he could be proud to call his father, and that meant more than just saving lives. Enji had to work to build a relationship with the public, and be a hero that was not only powerful, but approachable and relatable.

So, with his secretary’s assistance, Enji reached out to the most highly recommended media relations agency in Musutafu and requested that they pair him with a very particular type of publicist. He made sure to specify that they had to be thick-skinned and prepared to undertake all the work that would come with being the publicist to the number one hero. Though he had certainly made some important changes within himself, he still didn’t know how to talk to people and didn’t want to send the publicist running for the hills.

That was how you ended up standing outside the Endeavor Hero Agency. The glass skyscraper gleamed brightly under the sun, and really impressed upon you that this was happening. You had been assigned your first hero, but not just any run of the mill hero and it honestly had you feeling nervous in a way that you never had before. It’s not as if you doubted your ability to manage and improve the Flame Hero’s public image, but this was a major assignment that could either launch your career into the stratosphere or sink it like a stone.

After taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you walked briskly through the front entrance and into the main lobby, where you were greeted by the receptionist. You explained who you were and what you were there for, and she immediately hopped up from her desk in a panic and hastily led you to the elevator. It did nothing to quell your anxiety, because if his receptionist was losing her cool, what chance did you have against the man?

Upon reaching the top floor, the receptionist all but shoved you out of the elevator, giving you a hasty “good luck” while frantically pushing the button to close the door. You stumbled forward and were faced with a large, hardwood door. Having decided that you simply could not delay your assignment any further, you squared your shoulders, took decisive steps forward, and knocked on the door.

---------------------

That was several months ago, and you could say with hindsight that you were right to be anxious. While working for Endeavor was the best way to cut your teeth as a publicist, the man himself was...something fucking else.

It wasn’t just that he was physically intimidating, with his towering height and mountains of muscle. Honestly, you were able to quickly get past that and start working towards building a friendly, yet professional relationship with your boss. Except, he was the most tight-lipped, awkward person you had ever dealt with when he wasn’t in the process of saving lives. And when he was actually somewhat talkative, he was so intense that it left you flustered.

However, Enji always treated you with respect and courtesy, and when you did well, he told you as much. Heat would crawl its way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes whenever he would tell you, “You’ve done excellent work this week, (L/N)-san. Your efforts are appreciated.”

To anyone else and coming from anyone else, it might not mean much, but Todoroki Enji wasn’t just anyone. He had high standards for all of his employees, and you were no exception. Praise from him was hard to come by, and when it was directed at you, it made you feel some type of way.

It was obvious to everyone with a pulse that Enji was an incredibly attractive man. Indeed, every interview you scheduled for him with a female journalist found him being inundated with coy smiles, flirting, and pointed questions about his relationship status.

To be fair, you had asked him the same question, but only because it was important for you to know as the person who handled all of his public relations. It definitely wasn’t because you were lusting after your client and hoping that he was free to maybe, someday, knock your walls down.

Still, you had always prided yourself on being the consummate professional, so you refrained from asking any questions that were too personal. Even though you were so often alone with Enji in his penthouse office, with little to no interruption, and a lot of plush furniture he could fuck you on…

You shook your head sharply, your dark, curly hair moving with the motion. ‘Focus, bitch. Don’t be a goofy and try to fuck your boss. He would probably fire your ass before you could ask for a crumb of dick.’

It didn’t matter if you hadn’t gotten laid since you started working as his publicist; you were NOT going to fuck Todoroki Enji.

Little did you know, Enji was enduring his own share of suffering and sexual frustration. And he had no intentions of denying himself. For him, it was simply a matter of opportunity.

--------------------------

It was finally Friday evening, and Enji was more than ready for the weekend. After a solid week of double patrols, while squeezing in PR appearances that you had set up for him, he just wanted to sit down in his recliner at home and have a stiff drink. He was sitting at his desk with his laptop open, finishing up some last minute paperwork on a report he needed to submit to the Hero Public Safety Commission by Monday.

Just as he put the final signature on the last page, you came bursting through his office door, without knocking, of course. Not that he minded; it was always a treat to see you, even if you were a bit...distracting. Your shapely legs carried you briskly towards his desk and he couldn’t help but admire how enticing they looked sheathed in your sheer stockings. He almost missed what you were trying to tell him, too busy imagining them wrapped around his waist.

“Endeavor-san, I’m sorry to disturb you right before quittin’ time, but I just finalized the details of your appearance on Present Mic’s late night radio show for next weekend,” you chirped with no small amount of satisfaction. Ah, right; Enji had agreed to make time for that, considering Mic was very popular with the young crowd and an appearance on his show would do wonders for his popularity with that demographic.

“He promised to keep it light and casual, and most of the time block will be spent playing some music that you both enjoy. I cross-referenced his playlist with the list you compiled, and y’all have some bangers in common. We’ll need to go over your note cards again, but I’m sure you’ve got that part covered by now.”

Your eyes were focused on the folder in your hands, flipping through the papers there as you went over the last minute details. Enji’s eyes were watching you, though, and he found himself struggling to give a damn about Present Mic or his radio show. Not when you were standing before him, a radiant vision of smooth brown skin and a halo of curls. How badly he wanted to sink his fingers into them and tug your head back, make you submit to him…

“Endeavor-san, are you listening?”

The question coming from your pretty lips, in that sweet, but sharp voice, was enough to finally get his attention. He tore his gaze from your petite frame and looked up to see your dark brown eyes staring at him sternly. Enji coughed and shifted in his chair, trying to subtly adjust his now rock hard dick.

“My apologies, (Y/N), I’m a bit worn out from this week,” he hastily assured you. “If you wouldn’t mind emailing those notes to me, I will look over them again this weekend.”

Your expression softened and you tossed the folder onto his desk before walking around to the side and perching yourself on the edge. Enji could practically feel the blood rush to his dick with you sitting so close to him, the scent of your perfume immediately clouding his mind. Your already short skirt rode up even higher and he had to force himself to look you in the eye, which he regretted shortly after.

“Have I been riding you too hard, sir?”

Enji’s eyes narrowed slightly at you, thinking that you must be toying with him. But, your face was devoid of cunning, and you seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being. He wasn’t used to that kind of consideration from really anyone, especially not one of his employees.

“No, far from it. You probably take it a bit too easy on me, but you still produce amazing results. I would be completely clueless about this public relations crap if I didn’t have someone as bright and clever in my corner,” Enji rumbled, almost bashfully, the tips of his ears still pink from your accidental innuendo.

He had no way of knowing, but the feeling that Enji’s praise gave you was like a shot of adrenaline to you. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks, and you quickly began stuttering and trying to downplay your contribution. However, Enji was having none of it and reached out to grab your anxiously fluttering hands, which had the desired effect of shutting you up.

But, Enji didn’t stop there. He was tired of you not giving yourself enough credit. More than that, he was tired of only being able to show his gratitude in words. So, he took advantage of your size difference and tugged you into his arms and then settled you on his right thigh, forcing you to straddle the muscular appendage.

“E-Endeavor-san?!” you squeaked out. Your tiny hands were encased in his much larger ones and even that small bit of skin to skin contact was enough to set a fire low in your belly.

“Please, call me Enji. It seems a bit formal considering the things I want to do to you.”

“And what exactly do you want to do to me, Enji?” Your voice was low and breathless, but he could see the excitement clearly in your deep brown eyes.

He released your hands and let his own wander down the curve of your sides to settle on your hips. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he engulfed the soft flesh there with a gentle, but firm squeeze. You gasped softly and instinctually ground down against the flexing muscles of his thigh.

Enji growled lowly in his throat and took one hand off your hip, and reached up to bury it in the soft curls that framed your gorgeous face. At first, he gently massaged the scalp with his fingertips, but when he felt you relax, Enji used the curls at your nape to tug your head back.

He loved how small you were in his arms, how easily he towered over you and controlled your movements. And there you were, gasping and squirming in his lap, letting him touch you in such a dominating way. It stoked a fire within him that he hadn’t felt in a long while, urging him to make you fall apart under his touch.

“There are so many things that I want to do to this tight, little body,” Enji whispered against your throat. He placed a heated kiss there, followed by a gentle nip before continuing, “But, for now, I want you to ride my thigh.”

To his delight, you didn’t hesitate to start meekly rolling your hips forward, your skirt bunching up around your waist with the motions. Still, you seemed to be holding yourself back, and he was having none of that. Using the hand that was still gripping your hip, Enji forced you to press down harder and move faster. Getting the message, you braced your palms against his broad, solid chest and began grinding against him in earnest.

The filthy moans you let spill from your plump lips were music to Enji’s ears, and he struggled to refrain from just ripping your stockings off and sliding your down onto his aching dick. There would be plenty of time for that later, but in that moment, he wanted to make you felt just how appreciated you were.

“Come on, little sparrow, I know you’re close. I can feel you soaking my pants leg.”

The desperation and desire in his voice drove your lust even higher. That, combined with the friction of your nylon stockings against your bare pussy, had you teetering on the edge of release.

“Please, sir!” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but he seemed to. And he was going to make you beg for it.

“Please what?”

“I...I want you to fuck me, sir! Please let me cum on your dick,” you pleaded with a breathless whine, never ceasing your wanton grinding.

“Oh, you will be cumming on my dick. But, first, you’re going to make yourself nice and sloppy for me.”

Enji gripped your hair tighter and pulled your head back until your spine arched. Now, your nails were digging into the skin of his pectorals, but he didn’t care because the end result was you humping against him with reckless abandon. No longer needing to guide your movements, he reached up and wrapped his other hand around your delicate throat, squeezing just enough to make the blood rush to your head. That was just enough to tip you right over the edge.

“Oh, oh!” Your hips began to stutter slightly in their movements as your orgasm crept up on you. A scream that surprised you, but made Enji growl in triumph, was ripped from your throat as you bucked wildly through the peak of your release. Letting go of your tresses and throat, Enji pulled you gently into his chest and ran his hands soothingly down your back. As your body trembled and quaked through the vestiges of your orgasm, he murmured soft praises into the crown of your hair.

“You did such a good job for me, baby girl. I’m so proud of you and all your hard work. Are you ready for your reward now?”

Despite the fact that you had just cum your brains out, his words of praise had you moaning wantonly, your head bobbing lazily in consent. Enji wasted no time in standing you up between his legs, supporting your weight effortlessly as he slid his hands up your inner thighs towards the crotch of your stockings. A brief, but loud ripping sound echoed in the spacious office, and then you felt a cool breeze against your soaked lips. Enji took a moment to run a thick finger through your dainty folds, making you shudder and moan.

Enji considered having you ride him again, but a glance at the large sectional he had in the corner of the room gave him other ideas. Picking you up as if you weighed nothing, he carried you to the luxurious piece of furniture and laid you down on your back. He immediately covered your body with his own and locked his lips with yours, the kiss quickly turning heated. While your lips moved together with unrestrained passion, he busied himself with undoing his belt and slacks. Once he got them undone, he freed his aching length from the confines of his underwear, hissing at the sensation of the cool air hitting the too hot skin.

Pulling away from your soft warmth, Enji made you look him in the eye before he asked, “It seems a bit late to ask, but are you sure this is what you want?”

Thinking he was just being considerate, you smiled softly up at him and nodded in affirmation. He kissed you hard, one more time, before looking down to guide his more than impressive dick to your dripping entrance. As soon as he pressed the head in, you knew what he was really asking you before, which was whether you could handle being stretched to your absolute limit.

You threw your head back, pressing into the soft cushion underneath you, and struggled to breathe around the sensation of his girth splitting you open. It was a good thing he made sure you were wet enough beforehand, otherwise, you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to take all of him.

Enji made sure to take his time pressing in and withdrawing, inch by inch, enraptured by the sight of your pretty pussy stretching around him. It was a couple minutes more before he was fully seated inside you, the head of his dick pressed snugly against your cervix. He paused his movements to press sweet, but rough kisses along your jaw and collarbones. You reached up and buried your fingers in his hair, applying the barest pressure to bring his face closer to yours so you could press your foreheads together.

“I’d really like for you to move now,” you panted softly. Sure, it was quite the stretch having him inside you, but it didn’t hurt and you were still filled with a burning desire to be wrecked by the giant hovering over you.

Withdrawing slowly, so slowly, Enji paused again to watch your face as he gave a quick, experimental thrust. The cry of pleasure you let out snapped his resolve to continue taking it slow, and he began to fuck into you with a vigor. All you could do is tighten your grip on his red locks and hold on for the ride.

“God, you feel so good wrapped around me. Do you have any idea how long I have wanted this? How many times I’ve fantasized about fucking into you like this, making you my little cumdump?”

Enji was actually caught off guard with how visceral your reaction was to his dirty talk. He didn’t think it possible, but you became even tighter around his dick, nails biting into his scalp, as well. You began trying to thrust back up against him, but he was having none of that. Enji pulled back just enough to take your legs and throw them over his shoulders so he could put you in a mating press.

“Oh gods, yes, just like this, Daddy!” you wailed loudly, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure from his rigid member rubbing against your velvet walls with the new angle.

A groan that sounded like a snarl rumbled in Enji’s chest at the sound of your fucked out voice calling him ‘Daddy’. It made him want to grind his dick deeper into you, until all you could see, feel, or taste was him and the pleasure he was giving to you.

“Fuck, if you call me that again, I’m going to fucking cum and I’m not going to pull out.” He expected you to object, or something but instead, you attempted to pull him in closer with the strength of your legs alone.

“Please, please, please fill me up, Daddy! I want it all, please, give it to me!”

Pace quickening at your filthy words, Enji leaned forward until you were practically pressed in half and his thrusts had the tip of his dick bumping your womb with every plunge deeper. You were unable to even scream, the air knocked from your lungs and your brain foggy with thought-warping ecstasy.

“Goddammit, you’re gonna make me cum, baby. I’m gonna fill you up to the brim. Gonna make you round with my child. Is that what you want?”

All you could do was nod frantically, incoherent pleas and his name spilling from your drooling mouth in an endless stream. You would do anything, say anything, just to feel his hot cum paint your walls.

From the way you were clenching and pulsing around him, Enji knew that you were close to the precipice again already, and he was ready to tumble over right along with you. Letting go of the last bit of restraint holding him back, Enji captured your lips in a searing kiss and swallowed your cries of passion as he began to piston into your tight heat, chasing his orgasm and hurtling you towards yours.

A shrill scream muffled by his lips and the sharp tightening of your walls around him signaled to Enji that you were cumming, and he quickly followed after you. His powerful hips stuttered once, twice before he drove his entire length fully inside you and stilled, his head pressed to the opening of your womb. Much hotter than you were expecting it to be, spurts of cum that seemed endless gushed deep inside you, prolonging both of your orgasms to the point of over-sensitivity.

When you both finally came down and got your breathing under control, Enji slowly pulled out from you and gently eased your legs off his shoulders. He gathered you up in an embrace and flipped the two of you over so that you were laid on top of him, head resting against his chest. Again, he stroked your back and sides soothingly, murmuring words of praise and comfort.

For your part, you were fucking wiped, your heart still racing and brown skin dewed with sweat. You could feel cum leaking out of your abused hole, but could hardly be bothered to care with exhaustion and satiation weighing so heavily on your eyes.

With strong arms wrapped around you and every bone in your body feeling like marshmallow, you snuggled closer to Enji and fell asleep to the steady pulse of his heart in your ear.

[angelanimedesaray]

Wings in the Dark Chapter 2: Suspicions

AN:  Yeeaaahhh this one’s pretty much all from Levi’s POV.  Get ready for some cat and mouse, guys.

Also I’m working on a playlist.  hehehe. I love my playlists.  Some songs just fit SO WELLLLL!!!!

Characters:  Levi, Vampire!Reader, Erwin, Various BG Characters

Pairing:  (Eventual) Levi x Reader

Warnings:  Language

Word Count:  5102

<----Previous Chapter    Masterlist    Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

Levi leaned against the stone wall beside him, arms crossed over his chest and the shade of the roof mostly hiding him from view as he stared pensively out at the open field.  The horse training was finished for the days, and the horses were being allowed time to roam in the open field for the time being.  One individual, however, was spending some one on one time with a mare, walking through some common techniques to get a horse to trust you.

At first, he’d wondered why she was using such a long rope, since he was fairly certain the distance between a horse and a potential rider during this exercise wasn’t supposed to be that far.  Quickly Levi realized that if she got much closer, the horse was not having it.  It was truly afraid of her, though she appeared to be making some headway, if she was able to lead the horse around on the long rope while the other horses stayed clear.

Horses that had been trained and bred to retain nerves of steel and ignore their fears, especially in the presence of Titans and the chaos of a battle, and apparently all of them were at least skittish around her.  That’s what he’d heard from the stablemaster, anyway.

Not a minor detail to be overlooked.  And a problem, if she couldn’t get around it.  Clearly, though, she was putting in the effort and time to fix it, and she didn’t mind going at the proper pace instead of trying to rush it.  From what he’d been able to observe, she was also approaching the situation with an admirable amount of patience, no outward signs of frustration or anger when she reached a setback and had to back up a foot or so on the rope instead of shortening it a little more.  Her approach changed slightly each time, too, attempting to adjust to fix whatever she’d done wrong the previous try.

Well, at least she had some positive character traits to be discovered alongside the worrisome fact about the horses he wasn’t going to ignore.  So he could give her some merit while his suspicion raised a little more.

“Captain.”

Levi turned at the sound of his title, noticing the individual approaching him from the main building, a file in hand.  He snapped a salute when he reached Levi, then held out the file for him to take.  “You asked for the file on Cadet Y/N L/N.”

Levi nodded and took the file from him.  “Thanks.  You can go,” he said in a distracted tone, already opening the file as the soldier walked away.

His eyes scanned the information in the file, which was surprisingly scarce.  Her place of residence was formerly Wall Rose, there was no living family, no record as he thought there might be after their spar.  She ranked sixth in her class--which didn’t at all match the spar they’d had, and gave further credit to his belief she was purposely holding herself back even when it mattered for placement.  Maybe she wanted to avoid the spotlight?  She wanted her talents to be recognized, but she didn’t want them front and center since she was still trying to scrape by without her full potential being noticed.  She excelled in individual evaluations, especially the physical and instinctual, but seemed to have some problem with others.  It was noted in her file that she was a loner and outcast during training, suggesting teamwork might be a point of issue with her.  The opinion of her classmates might shed some light on that matter--it could have easily been the other party and not necessarily her that was the issue.  Some of her classmates had joined the Scouts as well, if he remembered correctly, so there were some around that could be asked.

Levi reached the end of the file far sooner than he expected.

There weren’t any official documents giving age or place of birth, just an inked in note marking that she was in her early twenties--older than most new recruits, strangely enough--and the name of the town she was born in.  There weren’t any legal documents, and no visible records of her existence before she started leaving a trail behind in Wall Rose two years ago, with a rented space in her name and her official application to join the Cadet Corps the only real official documents here.

That shouldn’t have been possible.  Of course, if she lived in the Underground beforehand, it would make perfect sense for her to have no trail until she surfaced, but it was right here in ink that she was born within Wall Rose.

Had she lied?  Had she somehow managed to get topside without official immigration and slipped right through the fingers of the authorities?  The Underground would have fit a little comfortably in his working picture of her--loner, exceptionally skilled in combat and other physical areas, not having a record before two years ago, the street fighting skills…

He wasn’t going to write off the Underground yet, but how she might have gotten topside needed some fleshing out before he could consider it more seriously.

Appearing out of the blue and an unknown past only made Levi’s unease grow.  Maybe if there was more, he could have deduced what her reason for joining the military--hell, joining the Scouts--was.

More questions, and not much in the way of answers.

Dissatisfied, Levi returned to his position resting against the wall with the file now tucked under an arm, watching as the speckled grey horse with the black to white mane gradually came closer to her as the rope slowly shortened, but it’s caution and unexplained fear still kept it out of her arm's reach.

The new recruit in front of him was so nervous he was trembling.  He might have thought he was hiding it well, but it was plain as day to Levi, who was leaning against the wall sipping on his cup of tea with eyes fixed forward on the recruit sitting on the other side of his desk.  He’d called the young man in as a sort of character reference for L/N, asking him to state his opinion on the young woman’s abilities and if they were an asset to the Scouts.

His final question, however, had caused the recruit’s suddenly shifty demeanor, and Levi’s gaze narrowed slightly at him when he hesitated.

“Are there any qualities you feel she possesses that would be harmful to the Scouts?”

The recruit across from him couldn’t look Levi in the eyes, on the brink of saying something, but for some reason holding himself back.  Levi waited for several moments before there was a spark of impatience starting to grow in him.

“Spit it out.”

The recruit’s shoulders hunched slightly, and he started to haltingly speak.  “She doesn’t exactly get along with other people.”

Well, that could mean a lot of things.  Levi wasn’t the friendliest person in the world, but that didn’t stop him from doing his damn job.  Antisocial didn’t necessarily count as something that negated her ability to perform in the field.  This kid needed to be more specific.

“Does she start fights with her comrades?” Levi asked bluntly.

“No, but she has been in a few--”

“Does she fail to communicate in the field?”

“Never, though--”

“Is she incapable of working as part of a group?”

“Not really--”

“Does she take actions that could cause harm to other members of the team in the field?”

“I haven’t--”

Levi let out a slow sigh.  He kept interrupting the recruit because he didn’t need long winded answers that spun the narrative a certain way.  He already knew he couldn’t entirely trust the feedback this kid was going to give him, because either he would downplay her abilities and up-play her flaws to make himself look better, or vice versa to make her look better, all based off the assumption Levi was asking because Levi was looking to have her join his squad.

It wasn’t too far off the mark, but Levi was considering adding her less and less the farther he dug into her background.  And while he knew he couldn’t trust much of what the kid was going to say to his face, that wasn’t the point.  It was what came after this that mattered the most, and it still gave him something to work with to get a little further in his investigation.

She communicated and worked just fine in a group, and while she had been in fights before, she hadn’t been the one to start them.  It was starting to look more like harassment of some degree on the other side that kept her from interacting much with her peers.  Aside from the pretty much confirmed antisocial behavior outside of the field, of course.

“You have to be more specific than ‘she doesn’t play well with others.’  I don’t always get along with other people--that doesn’t keep me from doing my job,” Levi deadpanned.

The recruit was really struggling to get it out now, his face all twisted up as he tried to rework his words.  “While her skills are undeniable, socially, her relationship with her peers is...poor.”

Is that really what this amounted to?  No one liked her because she wasn’t friendly enough with them?  “Your complaint is that she’s not a social butterfly?”

“It’s more than that, sir, she’s not…”

Levi waited another five seconds before he decided this wasn’t being productive anymore.  Time to kick him out of the office and go on to the next part, then.  “Either come up with a solid answer, or I’ll take your silence as a no so you can leave to take care of that constipated look on your face.”

The recruit looked put out and frustrated, but he ended up standing from the chair and leaving, Levi watching him silently from over the rim of his cup and eyes lingering on the door after it had closed.

This sneaking around behind the scenes getting dirt on people was usually more Erwin’s speed, but Levi had been around Erwin long enough to pick up a few tricks of his own to use when necessary, like in moments like this.  Levi could be subtle when he wanted to.

A few moments after the recruit walked out his door, Levi finished his tea, set down the empty cup on his desk, and followed after him, keeping far enough back that he wouldn’t be noticed.  Just as he’d suspected, the recruit found his way back to another pair of recruits and proceeded to go about cathartically bitching about the situation.

Levi missed the part where the other two asked why Levi wanted to talk to him in his office, but since that wasn’t the important part, Levi wasn’t too concerned, stopping just around the corner and pressing his shoulder against the wall to listen in to what they really had to say about L/N when it wasn’t being filtered by the intimidation of speaking with a superior.

“Of course miss ice princess is being considered for Captain Levi’s squad.  Why wouldn’t she?” the recruit who had been in Levi’s office was fuming.

“I don’t get why you two are so upset--if Captain Levi’s already asking about her, surely that’s because she has the potential, right?” asked the young woman in their group.

“You didn’t train with her--you didn’t see how downright infuriating she was!  If it wasn’t for the occasional lost spar round or missed question on a test, or a margin behind someone else in an endurance test, whatever it was, she still somehow managed to look perfect.  Even if you were ahead of her, it was like she was right there behind you!”

“Not to mention she didn’t even seem to try,” the third one muttered.

“Exactly!  We’d work our asses off, and then she would waltz in and do whatever they asked her to as if it was as natural as breathing!  It was so--so--so infuriating!”

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” the woman surmised.

“Wouldn’t you be upset?  She didn’t even try!  Then to make matters worse, she always acted like she was above us.  Yeah she usually beat us all in everything, but she didn’t even try to be nice about it.”

“Yeah--I know this girl who tried to be friends with her part way through training.  But she was always treating her like a plague--she’d move further away from her, or she’d ignore her attempts to talk to her or actively dodge her.  She made it pretty damn clear she wasn’t in the Corps to make friends.  And she was like that with everyone--she never let anyone get closer than necessary to her.  Sure, she’d give you some tips in the middle of training, but it was always just what was necessary, and she never let the conversation move to anything personal.  She’s a bitch,” the friend added.

“I figured all that time spent by herself, she was just focused on her training.  It got me certain that she was going to be top of the class--some say she should have.  Hell, I thought she’d be pissed when she got sixth, but I swear she looked pleased.  Pleased!  And I thought she wanted to at least make the top five with how fucking perfect she seemed.”

“Okay, so she was antisocial in training and she’s good enough at what she did that it made you all jealous.  I still don’t see anything that would make you hate her so much.  I’ve seen her around a few times and she doesn’t seem nearly as frigid as you all say.  Distant, yeah, but she seems...warm, if a bit melancholy,” the woman said thoughtfully.

“Don’t let it fool you.  She’s probably just trying to make a better impression now that she’s where she wants to be and is about to get placed--possibly in the best squad, now, too, apparently.”  There was the sound of a boot scuffing the stone, then a thwack of a broom handle being thumped against the offender’s head.  “Ow!  And she’s not warm and she’s not innocent.  I don’t know what she was doing, but she was up to something during training, even if we couldn’t prove it.”

“Oh?  And what was it?  She managed to get an extra loaf of bread on her plate?” the woman asked almost mockingly.  Clearly she wasn’t convinced by their ranting.

“One of the most infuriating things about her was how she could break the rules and still get away with it!  She used to sneak out all the time at night while we were in the Cadets, but no one could ever catch her.  Even when we gave the instructors a warning that she would be sneaking out again soon, she still wouldn’t get caught, and we’d get in trouble for lying about a classmate.  Not once was she caught, and we had classmates that could attest to her not being in bed at some point in the night, so we knew it was happening!  But we could never prove it.  It still drives me nuts to this day!”

“If you kick this floor again, I’ll hit you even harder--you are not messing up the cleaning job I’ve been working so hard on!” the woman fumed suddenly, and there was a bit of a scuffle before things calmed down again.

“I swear, if Captain Levi puts her on his squad I’m going to be so fucking--”

“Look at the bright side, you probably won’t have to deal with her anymore if that happens, because you’re nowhere near that league,” the friend teased.  It sounded like there was going to be another scuffle breaking out, so Levi finally stepped around the corner to make himself known.

“Oi.”

The two boys immediately panicked, while the woman snapped to attention, eyes flickering to a fresh scuff mark on the stone with a clearly upset face to see the two were already back to mucking up her hard work.  Levi ignored the two who were scrambling to their feet and trying to snap to a salute, walking past all three without even glancing at them.

“Get back to cleaning.  And find another place to bitch about superiors,” he added before he continued down the hall and out of earshot once more.

Idiots.

There was nothing wrong with a little bitching to get it out of your system, but at least have the decency to do it somewhere less public where anyone could find and hear you.

However, Levi officially had some honest first hand accounts of her relationship to her peers, and a lead he could follow further into this mystery.

She snuck out a lot at night when she was in the cadets, huh?  He wondered if she was still doing that now…

It seemed he had something to do now in the hours insomnia kept him from sleeping.  He could keep an eye out to see if she was sneaking out, and try to figure out where she was going on these little escapades if they were, in fact, continuing after leaving the Cadets.

The more he looked into her, the more uneasy he became.  He was already at the point where he knew he was going to have to bring up his concerns to Erwin, but he was going to make sure he’d gone as far as he could with this investigation of his before he went to Erwin.

For the first few nights after hearing about L/N’s nightly escapades in the cadets, Levi didn’t catch anything amiss.  He was well aware of the best spots in this building to sneak out at this point, and had several points he liked to retreat to for some alone time that just happened to give him a good view of the surrounding area.  He was fairly confident that if she tried to sneak out, he would be able to spot her as long as he was looking--which he was.

By the fifth night, he seriously considered the possibility that if she was doing something shady such as meeting a co-conspirator in the the night, the wise thing would be to cut all communication once she was inside the Scouts.  If her nightly actions were something dastardly like that, then it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t see her sneak out because she wouldn’t make the attempts now in such a high risk area.

Still, Levi kept an eye out, always near a window at night so he could peer out into the darkness and see anyone trying to slip away if it did happen.

At long last, almost three weeks after the recruits had first arrived, he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a hooded figure moving in the darkness away from the building.  Believing it to be L/N, he got up from his seat immediately, taking the less forgiving but more direct route of climbing out the window and down to the ground so he could close the distance before she left his sight entirely and he lost track of her.  Going through the building down to the ground floor and to a proper exit would have taken him too long, so his unconventional route was one he didn’t second guess.

Landing quietly on the paved stones, Levi crept forward at a walk that was barely restrained from becoming a jog for the first few moments, keeping to the shadows like his quarry as he attempted to follow after her.  He wasn’t armed in case there was trouble, mostly because he didn’t get the luxury of enough time to grab a weapon--he’d only caught a fleeting glimpse, so he’d had to act instantly.

Levi managed to catch up to where he would want to be on a tail after two streets, feeling himself settle down internally once he was the desired distance away.  She didn’t slow down, plowing forwards with a purpose that told him she knew exactly where she was going and she was going to waste no time getting there--he just had to keep up.

Yes, she.  He didn’t have confirmation that it was her, but he was operating off the assumption it was between the story he’d heard and the fact he’d been waiting for something like this to happen and her to be the culprit.

He continued to follow her street after street, taking several corners, occasionally losing sight of her before he caught movement again and continued on the path.  After a few minutes, however, he realized these direction changes weren’t exactly pointed and purposeful, but random.  They happened too suddenly and without warning for them to be planned.

She knew he was following her, and she was trying to shake him.

Hoping to make her think that she lost him, Levi slowed down his pace, allowing her to pull a little further ahead, far enough away it would be more difficult for him to follow, but at the same time it would give her the impression that he was too far away and that she lost him.

Levi managed to make it a few more streets this way, catching the edge of a cape or a flash of movement as she turned a corner to give him a direction, until suddenly, he realized he couldn’t hear footsteps or any other sound in the night, and he no longer had even a fleeting visual on her in order to give him a sense of direction.

That wasn’t possible.  Pulling back had been risky, yes, but he’d been sure he could still keep track of her.  And he should have at least been able to hear footsteps in the distance, because she would have had to speed up to lose him so suddenly.

Did she have ODM gear hidden under her cape?  Had she taken for the skies to get out of visible range of the streets?

Wanting to test the theory before she could get too far, Levi used window sills, boxes by stalls, wooden awnings, whatever he could to climb up to the roof of one of the buildings, turning around swiftly with his head on a swivel as he tried to catch a glimpse of movement, a figure moving through the night either on ODM gear or on the streets down below.

Nothing.  It was just him standing alone on this roof in the night’s silence.

Where the hell had she gone?

“Levi...why didn’t you bring this to my attention sooner?”

Levi scowled, meeting Erwin’s serious expression head on before he turned to move again, occasionally crossing the floor at an extremely slow pace, stopping for a while before he would turn around and move again.  Considering Levi usually remained stationary, it counted as a sign of unease.

He had just come to Erwin with what he knew about L/N, which admittedly wasn’t much.  For the most part, he was simply telling Erwin about his concerns and a bad feeling that he’d been harboring since meeting her.  He did have some legitimate red flags, like her apparent trips out into the night that were continuing here at the Scouts and her lack of a record from before two years ago with nothing to show she might have been from the Underground.

“Because it was just basic curiosity at first, but the more I heard, the more I had to be concerned about,” Levi said pointedly, lips pulled down in a prominent frown as he mulled over everything in his mind.

“Well, based off what you’ve been able to find out, if she is a threat, how much of a threat would she be,” Erwin asked patiently, his eyes continuing to track Levi as he moved about the room.  Levi stopped, turning his head slightly in Erwin’s direction.

“Erwin...she had me.  In that spar on the training grounds.  But at the last second, she shifted and threw the match,” Levi explained quietly.

“...I see.”

Levi turned around all the way to see Erwin sitting forward in his chair, hands laced together in front of him and pressed against his lips, eyebrows furrowed together in contemplation.

“Don’t mark her as an enemy in your mind, yet, Levi.  Let this play out a while longer, first.  This may be a situation where we need to spring the trap after it’s set to truly know the situation.  So far, she hasn’t done anything to hurt humanity’s mission regarding the Titans.  I don’t like how many unknowns there are with her, either, which is precisely why we have to approach this correctly.  There’s as much a chance we could be wrong as there is that we can be right about her intentions.”  Erwin’s hands carefully folded back over one another on top of the table, Erwin turning his gaze on Levi with that expression of his that usually appeared when he was mentally calculating a gamble.  “Continue your investigation as you see fit, so long as you don’t outright antagonize her.  We don’t want to risk driving her off, if these skills your glimpsing are as strong as your intuition tells you they are.  She could still be a great asset if she’s truly on our side.  Keep an eye on her, try to figure out at least if her intentions align with our own or run against them.”

“And you?” Levi asked suspiciously, looking to see if that gambling air about Erwin was tipping over into the dangerous side of things.

Erwin hummed.  “I’ll do some digging of my own, see what I can find.  Of course, if you can’t find anything concrete by the next expedition, going beyond the walls will allow you to get not only a stronger grasp on the skills she’s bringing to the table, but will help with figuring out her general intentions.”

“I don’t like the thought of having to babysit while we’re out there,” Levi returned flatly.  Expeditions were far too unpredictable as they were without adding a mysterious woman of unknown capabilities and intentions along for the ride with the task to keep a sharp eye on her and evaluate her every move.

“Then perhaps you’ll want to find out if you can trust her out there or not, first.  I know you can’t guarantee finding the answers to all of your questions in such a short amount of time, but you could at least find out if she will have the back of her fellow scouts on the first expedition,” Erwin said with a pointed look.  Levi could already tell this mess might get a little ugly, but at the very least, knowing he could trust her not to turn and kill someone on the expedition would go a long way in making his job digging into her background a lot easier.

After Levi gave a nod of confirmation, Erwin continued.  “In the meantime, I’ll make sure she’s placed in the formation so that she’s within your sight at all times.  Considering the rumors you’ve stirred up that you might be looking to recruit her to your squad, it would only make sense for you to be watching her out in the field to see how she does.  It’s also a nice excuse for you to make a few more direct inquiries to L/N, herself.  You’ve done plenty of work in the background, I think it’s safe to say you can start approaching her as well.  Subtly, of course.”

“After she shook me last night, she might already be on edge,” Levi pointed out.  She had to have known someone followed her.  There were no guarantees that she knew it was Levi, and he didn’t think she’d had the chance to confirm who was following her any more than he’d had a chance to confirm if he was following her.

“Then be careful about it.  But whenever you come to a decision about whether she’s a danger or not, I want to know.  This will go a lot smoother and faster if we’re sharing information.”

“I’m not stupid, Erwin,” Levi said with a long-suffering sigh, straightening up.  “Anything else?”

Erwin’s lips twitched upwards towards a smile, his hands moving to a drawer to pull out some paper and ink.  “Have fun making a new friend.”

Levi scowled again, turning to leave after it was clear Erwin was ready to move on to the next thing.  He was a little worried about this task to test L/N’s intentions to help the scouts before going out into the field, especially because he knew that look of Erwin’s meant he would set it up and Levi would simply have to observe.

But, he did have his own ways of testing her out as a person, and some people he could get to help without having to inform them of everything behind it.  He was already observing her from a distance and could safely continue to do so.  With the rumors going around he was looking to take her in under his wing, he could use that to his advantage to ask a few questions and approach her at the right times.

Yet, despite the fact he knew he would have help in prodding at her to see a bit more of what she was made of, he couldn’t help but notice that his sense of unease that had been tickling in the back of his mind was not shrinking.  If anything, it only seemed more prevalent.  As long as he continued to have this feeling of unease about her, he wasn’t going to let the matter rest.  He was going to figure out what she was hiding, if only so he could assuage or confirm his suspicions before they grew wildly out of control.

At least it seemed Erwin shared his concern, confirming it wasn’t all in his head, and there was cause to worry.  He only hoped they could figure out what was going on here before they had to spring the trap, as Erwin had suggested.

Levi shook his head.  He could worry about that, later.  First, he had a recruit to get a feel of before they went outside the walls, and he had to make sure he didn’t spook her while learning what made her tick.

Thankfully, he already had a pretty good idea where to find her in her down time, with all the work she’d been putting in to fix the one glaring flaw in her ability to go outside the walls.

The stables.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags:  @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo

Wings in the Dark Tags:  @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs

[justletmeplayminecraft]

so, after seeing the wonderful frozen xisuma art by @ambered-glazed-sheep i had an urge to write some comfort. so i did.

featuring: hermits looking after their admin, a very out of it x, lots of warmth, both physically and in friendships, the comfort after the hurt.

warnings: general being frozen. he's fine though! warmed by the love of his friends. even if he won't step into a snowy biome for a while after this.

"'Suma!" Xisuma can't gather the energy to open his eyes. The voice sounds far away, and he struggles to tell if it really is or not. A burning touch against his cheek breaks through the numbness that has long taken over his body. He twitches from it, muscles moving without his command. A rough noise leaves his throat. "He's freezing."

"I think that's a bit obvious!" That voice is high and distressed. Xisuma can't place why. He knows he recognises them but- His thoughts are distracted as he's moved. Powdered snow slips off his body, limp in the hands that hold him. "Come on, I've got a leather chest plate. Help me get him into it."

He barely manages a noise to protest being manhandled. There's gentle hushing in response as a force tugs at his arms. He can hardly tell which way is up anymore. Something is being pulled onto him and with some effort, he blinks his eyes open. He can't make sense of what he sees. It's just colours - blues as cold as the iciness inside him. None of the shapes come together in his head, no matter how hard he tries to focus. Exhausted, they fall shut again. His head rolls forward with them, quickly caught and laid back on something solid. He's sitting upright. Ah.

"C'mon, Xisuma." He's pretty sure that voice is talking to him. He's Xisuma, right? "Stay with us a bit longer." With a firm click, warmth blossoms in his chest. He sighs at the sensation. He didn't think his muscles could slack any further, but he slumps against the wall behind him all the same.

"I've got his helmet." Mm, his helmet. Something tugs through his hair, and he feels snow drop onto his nose. When did he take his helmet off? "Let's get him back to Hermitcraft." He makes a surprised noise when the wall behind him moves. There's something hooking under his arms, and then he's hauled upwards. Despite his best efforts, his feet only slide on the ground. He can't feel the surface underneath them. He's not sure if he should be fighting the grip or embracing it.

"Up you come, big guy." He attempts to open his eyes but gravity swings around him. Although he can't be sure, he thinks that squeaking noise came from his mouth. He squeezes his eyes shut to fight off the dizziness in his already clouded thoughts.

"Have we got everything?" The pressure on his body shuffles him, moving malleable limbs into position. Xisuma flexes his fingers into soft fabric. They ache with the movement, but he grips on tightly all the same.

"One derp of an admin successfully collected. We can come back for anything else." The sturdy chest he's leaning against rumbles with the words. Xisuma hums softly.

"Impulse, can you go ahead and make sure we have potions?" Xisuma allows his head to rest against the support holding him. Warmth is seeping back into his limbs at a snail's pace. He couldn't tell anyone where his feet are right now for the life of him.

"On it! I'll see you guys at spawn." His ears finally pick up on the crunch of snow. That must've been there before. He was recording something with it, wasn't he? Warmth presses on his head, ruffling his hair. He sinks down with a pleased sigh, mind feeling heavy.

"I'd say this is a mission success."

"Yes, and somebody is going to get a stern talking to." The warmth on his head leaves for a second when his nose is poked. Xisuma scrunches up his face. He has a vague notion that somebody might be him.

"Let's get him warm first-." The rest of the sentence trails off from Xisuma's hearing. His thoughts have only grown heavier, and he's too tired to fight that encouraging pull into sleep. He lets out a final sigh, curling into the warmth surrounding him. He's safe here. He can rest.

-

It takes some time for him to climb back to consciousness. He's cozy. There's a comfortable pressure shielding him from the world. When he listens, he can make out familiar voices talking without distinguishable words. Occasionally, there's someone holding him, and he can feel the words more than he can hear them. Xisuma is happy existing in this in-between. There's no pressure. No ever-present responsibility. And, his tired mind helpfully supplies, no cold. He'd begun to think he'd never feel warmth again out there.

His thoughts are more coherent now, at least. He can feel all the way down to his toes. His skin is covered in soft fabric, a comfortable cocoon. A fire crackles in the distance, the scent of food reaching his nose. Mushroom stew, he thinks. Rich and well-flavoured.

"Xisuma," a voice encourages, next to him, "I can see you twitching." Xisuma thinks his sigh is disappointed as he makes that final grab towards consciousness. He squints his eyes open into a warm glow. "There you are!" Xisuma hums in reply, trying to make out the person's silhouette.

"Cub?" The name sounds unsure to his own ears. Like his voice still isn't part of him. It didn't hurt as much as he expected. How many potions have they fed him?

"Yep. Welcome back, X." Xisuma lifts one of his arms, weaving it out of the blankets to rub his eyes. It still feels heavy, moving with an ache. Ugh, he hates the cold.

"Gettin' there." He frowns at his failed pronunciation. Nothing he can do about it now. Cub chuckles, ruffling through X's hair. Xisuma makes an annoyed noise, trying and very much failing to whack him away.

"Think you can manage some food?" Cub asks. Xisuma takes a deep sniff of the stew, his stomach twisting in previously forgotten hunger at the thought.

"Please." Cub smiles, leaving his side with a barely felt squeeze of the shoulder. These blankets are thick.

Xisuma uses the time to take stock of where he is, eyes adjusted to the light. It's the spawn hub he built. Across the central room, Cub has joined Joe and Impulse, working in front of a campfire he's pretty sure he didn't include. Underneath him is the soft surface of a bed. Something is warm inside the blanket, and he's fairly sure he wasn't wearing such fluffy clothes earlier. His armour is stacked against a chest next to the bed, helmet on the lid and within reach. He smiles.

"X!" He turns back as Impulse approaches, smile brighter than any of the lights in the room. "It's good to see you awake, man. Or coherent at least." Xisuma laughs a little self-deprecatingly.

"Ah, I didn't do anything too embarrassing whilst I was out, did I?" His memories of all that are a bit fuzzy. He remembers recording, and it was going well! He'd taken good notes and he was working through them efficiently. Then he remembers lying there in the snow, wondering if he'd ever move again (he won't linger on that memory.) Next thing he knows, he's being picked up.

"Well, unless you count clinging to Cub like a child?" Hm. The blush he can feel at the thought answers that one. Impulse takes in his expression and laughs, "Nah, you were fine! We won't tell anyone. Lips sealed."

Xisuma doesn't get the chance to reply as Cub and Joe join them, bowls of stew and a plate of sliced bread in hand. They set up a few chairs with a table between them. Xisuma has to shuffle his sore limbs forward to reach. He jumps in surprise when something rolls out of his blanket pile, hitting the floor with a thud. Impulse reaches down and scoops it into his hand. He unwraps the bundle, revealing the stone within.

"Magma rocks, wrapped up so they're not too hot," he explains at Xisuma's confused look. "Zed's idea, actually. Keeps him warm in that massive cave of his." Oh. That explains the extra heat source, then. Xisuma reaches out for a slice of bread, dipping it into the stew. He smiles as he watches it soak in, taking his time to enjoy this. It smells glorious, and it tastes just as good.

Once he's half way through his stew, he finally asks, "What happened? I'm still a little confused." The three share a look. Cub is the one who shrugs.

"You went to record a snapshot overview, right?"

Xisuma nods, "I did indeed. And the next thing I remember is being on the ground. And cold." Can't forget the cold. He kind of wishes he could.

"Well, Xisuma," Joe sits up straight as he speaks. His bowl is already empty. How did he manage that without Xisuma realising? "We noticed after a few days that our dear admin hadn't come back. So after a few messages with no response, we went to look for you. And what do we find but our admin curled up in the snow, looking like an icicle."

"Seriously, X," Impulse says it with a gentle sigh, "Why would you set your spawn in the snow?" Xisuma's mouth opens, but he ends up simply rubbing his neck. It does nothing to hide the blush creeping onto his face.

"Ah, goodness." He chuckles once his words return. "Not my smartest move, then."

"Well, you've had your moments." Cub's smile is as fond as it is teasing. Xisuma returns to dipping his last slice of bread in the stew, hopefully not embarrassing himself further.

"You know, you're kind of lucky, X," Joe adds, with a smile a little too smug for him, "Cleo wanted to come." X winces at the thought, swallowing his food down on instinct. He got off very lucky indeed. "We're still going to talk about this," Joe warns, "but I'll hold her wrath off for now." Xisuma hums, tugging the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

"We don't want anything to happen to you, Xisuma," Impulse tells him, ever so soft. "We had no idea something did. What if we hadn't checked?" It's not a comfortable thought.

"I'll think of something," X decides. "I see what you're saying."

"Well, technically you don't see it-" Cub rolls his eyes at Joe, taking the empty bowls to wash up. Only Xisuma hasn't finished.

"Joe, I'm trying to be serious, man!" Impulse protests. Xisuma hides his laugh behind a spoonful of stew. He continues eating, listening to the three go back and forth. Later, they'll work out a plan for future snapshots. Frequent check ins, a buddy maybe. But, for now. For now, he gets to spend time with what matters most. His friends.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Rodimus/Reader

My first commission from an awesome person!

Rodimus takes his human SO on a drive to a lovely lookout, where they proceed to have fun with his holomatter avatar.

Very considerable Lemon, Reader uses she/her pronouns and has cis female anatomy.

The soft padding of the faux leather seat beneath you was butter smooth and polished to a sheen one might usually expect from diamonds, and despite the fact that your driver would claim such a look was effortless, you knew a very pricy balm had undoubtedly been used to achieve the effect. Mostly because the faintest hint of beeswax still lingered despite the sweet scent of cinnamon swirling through the interior of your ride. Obviously, the smell was the result of some lavish products as well, but like the polished seats, it would be passed off as natural to the interior if you asked about it. Not that you minded any of the bluster. Quite the opposite, actually, you found the tireless efforts to impress you incredibly endearing.

This was Rodimus, after all.

Looking away from the pristine twilight view outside your window, you subtly turned your head towards the driver’s seat, where an impossibly handsome but mostly normal looking man had a casual hold on the wheel. Any person that beheld him would have had to do a double take, as his entire outfit hardly blended in with the modern era, but in your mind he rocked the 80's look perfectly. But the gravity defying perfection of his auburn hair was, admittedly, a pretty obvious clue to his inhuman nature.

"Admiring the merchandise?" He asks suddenly, catching you off guard without startling you. Despite not needing to "look" at the road to see, he still keeps his head facing forward as he gives you a playful side eye, the depths of his irises showing the tiny refractive glint he taught you to recognize of holomatter avatars. For some reason seeing it while hearing his warm voice sends delightful shudders up your spine.

"I like to appreciate every form you have." You reply carefully, not wanting to let him know just yet how excited you are. Plus, it was true, from his towering robot mode to this properly sized human projection, Rodimus was fine, even his altmode could quicken your pace at a glance. Adjusting casually in the silky-smooth seat, you scanned the dark exterior outside your window for a moment, noting how the ocean had come into constant view as he drove along the forgotten road. Hopefully the destination he'd apparently spent weeks picking out was close, because you were getting rather... eager for what you knew was coming upon arrival.

"I did make a few adjustments, just for you." He said a little unexpectedly, drawing your full attention back to him. Under the cocky tone you recognized the ever present need for approval he carried with him everywhere, and it occurred to you that if he was losing control and letting his insecurities slip through then he must have also been growing impatient to reach the destination. For all his talk, the big bot couldn't stand much in the way of delays when it came to your affection. Knowing he was needing you put a smile on your face as he coughed softly and murmured almost bashfully. "I was hoping you'd like them..."

You couldn't resist; you had to tease him.

"If you're talking about the tattoo, I was waiting for you to let me admire how you masterfully patterned it over those muscles. Ideally with a hands-on on inspection." You said, turning in the chair to look at him directly. It wasn't purely a playful nudge, you did want to lay your hands on the toned arms he'd clearly worked so hard to accentuate with Cybertronian inspired patterns, if only because you adored the strength and warmth beneath your fingers. The fire pattern had been lovely, but this new one was striking, the black ink drawing in your eyes like a wonderful trap. Hm, just thinking about how heated and natural his holomatter was to the touch and squeezing those muscles-

"Oh, definitely!" He countered in a failed attempt to stay smooth, which deteriorated when his voice broke in a needy squeak. Swallowing in a perfectly expressed gesture of helplessness, he moved a hand down to his heavily personalized radio equipment, fumbling over the flame decals before hitting the proper buttons. "We're almost there! Let's uh... Let's put on my mix in the meantime."

A lovingly arranged playlist of soft but passionate hits started pumping through his speakers, and you were delighted enough by the sound that you didn't bother to ask if he'd forgotten he could just turn on his music without using his holomatter avatar. Slow beats thrummed through the air and into your body, enticing you by offering a taste of what was to come as the melody filled you from head to toe. Biting your lip, you prayed he was feeling the same thing, or at least an equal amount of anticipation. Mostly because you were not planning on wasting time.

"Hey, there it is!"

The excitement in his voice was tinged with relief you became too occupied to notice. Like something sculpted just for the two of you, the earth flowed upwards and outwards over the sea in a picturesque lookout beneath the stars, a lovely covering of grass and wildflowers swaying in the ocean breeze as Rodimus eased his way to the flat top. Beaming all the while, he explained himself at a level of ease that belied the build-up he'd been applying to this little trip for the past few weeks. "Found the spot on a planetary scan, along with a bunch of other potential locales. It took the lead once I confirmed the cliff doesn't get much in the way of visitors."

"It's beautiful, Roddy." You said in genuine gratitude, aware that planning something so sweet and quiet and then keeping it secret would challenge his naturally effusive and chatty nature to an exhausting limit.

To think a bot who'd traveled the stars could find such joy in spending time alongside you, to the point he painstakingly arranged these little trips just to show you the depth of his adoration, was enough to make your heart skip a few beats. "Thank you... I know you spent a while on this."

"Anything for you, babe." He said softly, unbuckling the seatbelt he wore entirely for show as his alt mode pulled to a stop on an especially flat expanse of ground, leaving just enough space from the cliffs edge to be secure. Taking off your own seatbelt, one that he insisted you wear for your own safety, you heard his engines settle into a gentle purr. Loving the sound, you briefly recalled the first wonderful night you'd enjoyed one of these escapades. It had been unplanned at the time, and you hadn’t felt even the slightest hint of hesitation on your part, despite knowing that having sex with an alien robot while his physical body was a car might be called "odd" by some. As far as you bothered to care, those people just didn’t know what they were missing. Stretching out on his seat and making quite a show of opening up his lap in the process, Rodimus looked at you with what was likely meant to be suave relaxation, but you heard the eagerness in his voice. "But, I think we both know what we want to happen next, so how about we skip ahead...?"

"Does that pass for flirting on Cybertron?" You teased right back, triggering a blush in the holomatter's cheeks. Some very unorthodox upgrades had made the program capable of replicating every physical action or reaction one could draw from the bot, and in moments like these you wanted to thank some higher power for the incredible delight that had given you so far, as well as all the ways it would undoubtedly benefit you in the near future.

Recovering by pretending to adjust his sweatband, he was quick to fire back a line with his almost trademark cocky tone.

"Well... There aren't too many incredibly attractive humans on Cybertron, so I don't think it matters too much." He bantered smoothly, unaware of how precious his finger guns made him look in the process. In fairness, they absolutely were having the desired effect, as you wanted more than ever to pounce him. Watching as his internal biolights grew brighter to advertise his increasing excitement, you planned your move accordingly, knowing from experience how easy it was to crawl over into the driver's seat. You let him give one final quip to provide you with the perfect setup. "However, on the Lost Light and Earth, it's been working out pretty well so far."

Not able to imagine a more perfect leading line, you left your seat in one solid and unerring movement to plop yourself gently but eagerly into his lap, loving how the interior warmed around you in response before you had even finished moving. Engines hiccupping, he looked at you the same way one might watch a natural wonder unfold as you secured yourself by straddling him. "You would know, Captain."

Smoothness lost its status as an imperative to him in that instant.

Helpless adoration and lust filled his eyes almost to overflowing as he slipped a hand behind your head, insistent and needy but never anything less than gentle while his fingers looped under your hair. The scent of cinnamon moved through the air in sweetly smelling swirls as you let your body press against his, the warmth of his holomatter not quite comparable to an organic form but wonderful all the same because it was him.

Though you'd yet to tell him, the way his altmode came alive around you both as he grew more aroused thrilled you in ways that were impossible to explain. It was like you could feel him on every level, more than just the physical delight of skin on skin, and that feeling came into marvelous actuality as soon as your lips met his. A helpless sound of need from him coincided with a tremor through the seat below. Despite how he always wanted attention, you knew straight away he was especially craving it tonight by the fervent kiss he returned against your lips, followed by his cautious hands sliding up your sides. Without words he was trying to convey a request to get undressed.

"You look hot, how about we take off that vest?" You said in act of mercy, not at all opposed to getting naked as soon as possible. Rodimus had, after all, painstakingly designed the body of his avatar to express his favorite physical features in human form. To say he'd done a fantastic job would be an understatement. Easily slipping the loose orange garment off his broad shoulders, you had to smile at the multiple shirts still awaiting their turn, all three of them looking far more out of place without the vest to tie them together. You tugged on the collar of the outermost as you made your request indirectly. "Along with some of the other layers?"

"Yes, please..." He replied softly, sounding out of breath despite not needing to breathe.

The limited space of his altmode's interior was no match for the two of you working in sync, and if anything you could swear he seemed to move around you to aid the process, but that might have just been the result of his delighted frame humming in encouragement. By the time you got to his Autobrand bearing T shirt he was getting visibly flustered, his big expressive eyes looking into yours with an ocean of mixed emotions. There was want, adoration, longing, and a touch of disbelief, but also the deeply buried worry that what he had wasn't enough. As always, you got to reassurance straight away. Removing his last shirt to reveal a panting chest rippling with every breath was the first step.

Your next move was to kiss your way down his toned stomach, slipping beneath the steering wheel so you could park yourself between his spread legs. Quick as ever, the hint of a bulge in his pants became a tent of need in response to your proximity. No amount of self control could stop you from biting your lip at his flattering enthusiasm.

"How about I start by thanking you for this date?" You said in your best shot at a throaty purr. Admittedly it was hard to focus on being sexy when you were beholding such a banquet of handsome and helpless allure.

A sigh that trembled out into a whimper passed his lips as he gathered the strength to nod, spreading his legs as the fabric over his crotch stretched to make room for his growing arousal. Had you not already known the outfit was also holomatter you never would have been able to guess. Just watching how naturally it cupped his sizable package was making your head get fuzzy... Hearing the clink of a belt buckle helped you focus, especially when you discovered it was your own hands undressing him, the heat from this part of his body delighting your fingers as they worked not to stumble. As eager as you were down low, poor Rodimus was desperate.

Shaky breaths became increasingly more perceptible moans at every exhale, a phenomenon you noticed was harmonized to rhythmic trembles in the vehicle around you. Despite his will being concentrated in the holomatter, the pleasure he was experiencing must have been affecting his altmode. Such a loss of control was exactly your goal as his pants finally slid down his legs. Simple boxers of dark coloration remained your only barrier, the synthesized elastic bearing a tiny Autobrand that was warped by the jutting erection presented for your indulgence. Unable to delay for the sake of buildup any longer, you hooked your fingers into the stretchy fabric and pulled smoothly but quickly, revealing an eager erection that swung up to greet you.

"Oh God..." He whispered in overwhelmed ecstasy, covering his mouth beneath a hand. His own altmode overrode the attempt to stay quiet, rumbling with primal delight that all but begged you to keep going, a request you had no desire to delay fulfilling.

Hot and smooth while simultaneously soft yet firm, he was a none too easy fit in your mouth despite how badly the two of you wanted it to happen, but you were absolutely fine with a bit of a challenge. He had personally designed this part of himself as well, the goal of which was being just big enough to provide some extra fun without running the risk of hurting you. Humming to give him a little more stimulation, you secured your fingers around the base and started to search for a rhythm, brain buzzing from the simple thrill of intimacy on this level. A shaking hand cupped your head gently, hesitating so as not to throw you off or come across as trying to control your movements. Hesitancy in how he played with your hair was somehow adorable. You read his every move as you continued to bob your head, sucking on his throbbing girth in the way that drove him the most wild; slow yet passionate. This bot had done so much for you, and you wanted to return the favor, putting your all into every suck to show him how dearly you desired him back...

"W-wait..."

The full extent of him that you could fit in your mouth came out with a wet plop, surprising you almost as much as his tender request for you to stop. Rodimus never wanted to pull back once things got going.

"Is something wrong?" You asked while wiping your lips, looking upwards from his still throbbing erection to the flushed expanse of his chest and similarly heated face. There wasn’t a trace of anything in his expression but want, yet he was careful as he tugged you back up into his lap, letting you settle your own clothed crotch against his exposed eagerness. For a second the contact made his mind go visibly blank, with all traces of thought disappearing from his eyes at the unmatched desire you stirred in his spark. Sheer willpower enabled him to recover and speak seconds later.

"I need you. I... and I won't last long if you stay down there..." He explained through his panting, holomatter looking as if he'd just run a marathon.

"I don't mind." You replied, grinding your hips forward to let his hot and unsatisfied erection rub against you. Plenty wet beneath your own clothes, you knew that Rodimus would never allow only himself to be gratified, so you were fine finishing him off first. Watching that beautiful face disappear between your thighs afterwards would be well worth the wait.

Clearly he was tempted too, never having been the type to hold off on pleasure in the present regardless of how much it would earn him later, but you could see a rare patience in his whole demeanor as he looked back to you. Even his altmode hummed a little more calmly around you, as if to show his commitment. This mech wanted tonight to be special. "If it's okay, I... I'd rather have all of you."

That was more than okay for you. To show just how fine you were with the proposal, you looped your arms around his neck and went in for another kiss, feeling the heat and gentle tingling of his holomatter against you. When you had to pause for air, a playful whisper made your answer quite clear.

"Well, you are the Captain."

A soft moan of open ecstasy was his first reply. What had started as a tease had evolved into a kind of kryptonite for him, to the point that even hearing you whisper his title got his engines revving. Hitting him with it now resulted in a throbbing erection pressing more insistently against your pants, and while you loved the helpless arousal on display, the tone of his voice was also a fantastic prize. "You know what happens when you call me that!"

"Care to remind me?" You whispered in devious torture, growing foggy with lust of your own that would soon make such teasing impossible. All around you he began to hum in eager arousal once more, his vents blowing hard to keep the air cool in his interior. Catching the smell of cinnamon again, you let him dangle in the wind only a moment longer, feeling his grip on your shirt tighten as he gasped out some quiet pleading.

"Please, help me-"

"I'll show you how this is done again, if that's what you mean." Trying to play it cool only for one more tease, you grabbed the bottom of your shirt, having undressed yourself for him many times in the past. Whether or not he was being honest about not understanding clothes hardly mattered to you as you pulled on your top and lifted it over your head, revealing the bare expense of your body save for a bra. As the clothing was haphazardly tossed aside you found his eyes locked on nothing but you, as if by merely becoming undressed you were beyond anything he ever could have imagined, and that level of adoration threw you for a loop. Muscling back into control, you went for the clasp of your bra next. Feeling his gaze on you made your voice tantalizingly soft. "See? Now this..."

A front facing clasp came undone easy, but removing the now open underwear wasn't at all mundane to your audience, regardless of how many times he'd seen what was beneath. Bare breasts came into view and your bra joined your shirt in the passenger seat, where his holomatter clothes had been set before fading away now that he wasn't focused on them. Actually Rodimus only looked to be capable of focusing on one solid thing.

You.

"You're my... my everything." He whispered with overwhelmed adoration, far too proud to care about sounding corny while he beheld the perfection of your body. All of your ability to play it cool evaporated at the pure love in his eyes.

"I love you too, Roddy." You said back without any kind of playful intent. The hands keeping you supported on his lap slid over the wealth of bare skin now open to him, but his touch felt like he was worshiping you, his grip tight only for the sake of ensuring you were real. Every curve brought his intoxication to new levels.

"I love you and I need you." He whispered into a kiss on your collar, hugging you tight so that his soft hair brushed your cheek. The ever present electric energy tickled your nose as you breathed in his scent, and while you'd heard holomatter avatars didn't smell like anything, you could swear you caught the faintest hint of the frilly brand of fruit scented polish he used in those perfect auburn locks. A tiny but very happy sound of awe preceded another whisper against your exposed neck. "Please, I... Oh man, do you know what you do to me?"

"I know what I want you to do to me."

The reply was even more lusty than intended. Perhaps dropping your hands to your still present pants was the cause of that, but the effect it had on him was far too lovely for you to care. Strong hands took hold of your behind as the radio amped up its volume, bringing the bumping bass of an 80s mix out to thump in your chest alongside your love-struck heart. Pants and underwear began to descend your thighs in a single motion as he uttered one final phrase.

"Let's do it then..."

Limited space was more of a blessing than a hindrance as you worked together to remove your pants, as it kept him wonderfully close to your naked body while you slipped the restrictive bottoms down to your ankles, fighting to keep your lips on his the whole while. It was perhaps a little awkward, but such triviality didn't even register as you finally wiggled out after a fair bit of contorting. All that mattered was holding him close and taking care of the need thrumming through your bodies. Straddling him once more brought a still eager erection close to an equally heated wetness between your thighs, making you moan into a kiss as you anticipated what was coming.

Tender fingers slid between your legs to blindly feel out your entrance, a common habit of his to ensure you were ready. Not needing to see, you rubbed yourself against his offered hand, making your heat and excitement very obvious to the one who'd caused it. The music briefly slowed like someone gasping in awe. Lips on yours, Rodimus guided you towards his erection as quickly as he dared, spare hand supporting your back as you moved with him in beautiful sync.

Sinking down on him happened in an instant but felt heavenly enough to last a lifetime. How he made you so eager but so relaxed was a mystery you didn't care to solve, especially as he was taken in to the base without so much as a pause on your part. Both of you were reduced briefly to soft moaning at the sensations you'd never have your fill of; delicious fullness and friction for you, delightful warmth and squeezing for him. It was heavenly enough that you just had to deepen the kiss to a fervor and hold him tighter at the same time. This bot felt like everything passion was supposed to be, especially as he gathered himself and began to bounce you in his lap, engine roaring in time to every thrust as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

Rocking your hips as the car shook on the spot, haggard breaths filled the interior from you giving him your all, your kisses growing sloppy while you lost yourself in the fun. He felt good, and you wanted more of him every minute of every day. It didn't matter if you were from different worlds, you loved him with all of your currently hammering heart. Judging by how he thrust upwards in perfect sync the feeling was more than mutual.

A shaking hand squeezed between the two of you to curve downwards and feel out your crotch, a habit of his you knew well enough to angle your lower body to assist him. Still bouncing along his throbbing girth, stars burst before your eyes as eager fingers found your clit, shaking but insistent as they rubbed a solid circle into the erect bud. It brought you careening to a glorious finale in what had to be record time. "O-oh God, Rodimus, I'm..." You held him tighter as the world melted away, his EM field spiking so hard it made your body vibrate in a way that was not at all unwelcome. It was a sign you'd learned meant he was also close. Considering how you had moments until climax, that worked out beautifully, and you cried out one final time to sing out his praises. "Captain, I'm gonna-!"

He was gone the moment his beloved nickname passed your lips. Hard squirting inside of you tingling with the faintest hint of an electric burst came just as you throbbed around him, your body rolling on waves of pure ecstasy that drew out shameless cries of adoration every time you hit the peak. You could feel his head buried into your neck as he came, and how he moaned out endless "I love yous" while his physical self trembled even through the padded seats. For what might have been a tiny eternity it was just the two of you in shared, heavenly bliss.

The afterglow was a warm soft bed that seemed to swaddle you as you fell limp on top of him, your naked bodies trembling and heated but satisfied beyond belief. Still atop his lap, you doubted you'd find the strength or will to move anytime soon.

"Primus, you are my everything..." He rasped out with a kiss to your neck, brushing aside some of your hair to leave a few more tender pecks along your jaw. Spent but buzzing from the thrill, he pushed his sweatband back into a less crooked position and laughed breathlessly, his lidded eyes meeting yours to look lovingly into their depths. "How did I ever get this lucky?"

"I should be the one asking that about you." You replied playfully, fixing some of his hair into a slightly less wild look.

Laughing again in the way he only did when blissed out, he ran a hand down your sides, tracing your lovely curves as he settled back into the polished chair he'd have to clean again very soon. "A better question might be; how are we ever getting back to the ship? I can't... I can't feel my actuators..."

"I can drive." You retorted only half as a joke, knowing that it was possible to steer a bot in vehicle mode if they allowed it. Most hated to have a human anywhere near their equipment, but Rodimus took the proposal with a grin, one that wasn't at all dismissive of the idea.

"Ohh, can you?" He purred while gently pushing your back against the steering wheel, giving it a little turn both ways to tickle you while he played the fake tough bot. "I'm a lot to handle. Ever drive a Cybertronian speedster?"

Even with your body still tingling from orgasm, you were as quick as you were merciless to shoot right back. "No, but I have ridden one."

His head moved forward to squish between your breasts like a worshiper bowing at an alter.

"God I love you." Came his surprisingly soft reply, before he looked up at you with unabashed adoration and spoke without a trace of innuendo. "Let's just... take our time. I've got towels in my dashboard subspace, I can clean you up, then we can go from there. Sound good babe?"

"That sounds very good." You agreed, becoming aware of a growing sticky mess between your thighs. Such a thing was common when the two of you really got going, the natural result of the overpowering pleasure that could only come from the connection you shared, but you were still happy he always offered to clean it up. To convey your gratitude, not just for the towels but everything, you settled a loving kiss on his forehead and whispered.

"Thanks, Captain."

[ben0vilence]

This is a story inspired by @harbingers-appointed DK yb AU ^^ I hope I exceeded expectations. There is a little smut in here, so no minors! Hope you enjoy!~

A Heavenly Night In Hell:

Today's bounty was plentiful. Many unfamiliar constructs the human world has. I return to my abode, one I used to loathe with every fibre of my being, that is until I found the love of my life. With my most recent haul, they are sure to appreciate my efforts and be less inclined to further question my intentions. They are nothing but pure after all. I opened the immaculately decorated double doors to the castle and strode through the entrance hall, stone walls flickering a pale shade of blue courtesy of the torchlight. I hear the pitter patter of delicate footsteps echo from upstairs and smile. My darling is to grace my line of vision once more, a sight I simply cannot go without for prolonged periods of time. They dashed out from around the corner atop the staircase, panting as they grasped the railing for support. I saw them grin as they laid eyes on my gifts, and my heart thumped with longing.

"You really did get everything! Wasn't it too heavy though..?" They asked. Ahhhh, their voice and the concern that laced it was so soothing, their question was almost lost on me.

"Of course I did, anything for you, darling. And no, I used my powers to transport all this here." I chuckled. Mind you, if I'd used my raw physical strength to do so, I may not have had much success. I may be vastly taller than them, but not quite strong enough to lift some of these objects. They descended the staircase and approached me, the stool I custom ordered for them in hand. I often had to remind myself how tiny they were in comparison to myself, especially in these heels. They set it infront of me and climbed up, pulling me in for a hug. Instantly, my body melted into theirs as I wrapped my arms around their frame. I took this opportunity to discretely inhale their addictive scent from the nape of their neck and hair, exhaling warm air against their pale skin. They giggled, a sound I found most adorable.

"I have a name, y'know? Why dontcha use it?" They smirked. I grinned, my incisors glistening and sharp.

"I am aware, and a lovely name it is Bene~ But I love calling you 'darling' most of all." Their neck sunk into their shoulders as those cheeks turned rosey, a look that caused the steadily building hunger in my heart.. and explicit regions to rise.

"Praytell, what are these human devices used for?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"I still can't believe you've never done this before, haha. See, I heard from some of the other demons that before I arrived, you mostly just spent your time in solitude sitting on that throne of yours. Soooo, I thought we could do something more fun and have a movie night. Just the two of us."

My eyes widened in excitement. I had always wanted to watch a film, and now that my darling was by my side, it was to make the experience all the more enjoyable! I helped them set up everything we would need for tonight, and helped them turn the centre of the foyer room into a meadow of lush cushions and soft blankets. It took everything to contain my joy, it would all be so perfect. There was only one thing I needed to do afterwards, and that was give my hired help the night off. TK is as submissive as they come, the head of "housekeeping" too, but lately I've become suspicious of my second in command.. Don was hardworking and fearless, admirable qualities in a demon army general, but troubling in regards to Bene. It's hard enough that he's technically taller than me.. I will not have him turn my beloved against me..

                            ~~~~~~~~~

With the "riff-raff" taken care of, I joined Bene that evening in my nightgown. It was more comfortable than my day wear, true, but I figured it might even appear more aesthetically pleasing. Bene was dressed in a modest black t-shirt with a holographic design on the front, they called it "a Pokémon" I believe, and some shorts. I assume this was also for comfort. They had surrounded the area with premade confectionery and savoury deliciousness, and as they looked up at me, they beckoned me to sit with them in the cushion pile. They didn't have to ask me twice. My tail swayed with every step, and I finally took my place behind them. They adjusted their position and laid their head on my left inner thigh, nuzzling it softly. My emotions were frenzied, so much I had to bite down on my own hand just to keep myself in line. I swallowed saliva that had briefly accumulated in my mouth and stroked Bene's shoulder. They shuddered at my touch.. not from pleasure it seemed.

"Are you alright, darling?" Their eyes open, but they don't look at me. It unsettled me a little, to say the least. Other times we've held each other and they never shivered with this amount of intensity. What had changed?

"Yeah, I'm fine. We can watch the movie now." The flat affect their voice possessed did not convince me in the slightest, but I could sense that pressing them on the matter could possibly anger them. The film that played was a commentary on human society, their governments and how they used fear to control the masses or influence circumstances to benefit them. One man actively defied them, however. He destroyed monuments to their power and influence as revenge for disfiguring and torturing him for their own gain. I saw a lot of myself in this man.. Bene teared up a little as we watched certain scenes. The warmth of the blankets must've calmed them eventually as they stopped shivering, and seemed at peace with my presence. The food probably helped in that regard too. I had no idea how sweet human food could be until I tried chocolate. Solid yet creamy once it melted in your mouth, marvellous~. The film drew to a close after nearly two hours, but I almost dreaded that. The story was so intriguing and emotionally charged, but the ending was at least satisfying. Bene sat up and stretched their limbs.

"You have impeccable taste, my love." I smiled as they finally looked at me.

"Thanks, uhh.. You know something I just realized? I still don't know your name yet." They chuckled. I faltered, my smile fading slightly.

"Honestly, my name repulses me.. I don't even allow my subjects to call me by it. Any name you were to give me would be desirable though."

They hesitated at this proposal. I could tell they had a name on the tip of their tongue ready for me, but it never escaped. They thought for a moment.

"Okay.. how about Dean?" Oh, could they have thought of anything better? I don't think so. It was a little basic, but far better than the name "someone" decided to give me..

"I love it, darling~" They gave me a small smile in return, but for some reason immediately broke down into sobs. I instinctively pulled them closer to me, re-wrapping the blanket over them.

"Please.. if you're not alright, you can tell me, Bene.. Honest communication is an essential part of relationships, is it not? So as long as you're truthful, I promise I could never be mad with you." I hushed them softly as they cried into my gown, rubbing their back. Their chest soon ceased heaving.

"Dean.. I-.. there's so many things I want to say, but I can't put it into words.. so many things I want to do, but never gave a chance." Their eyes glossy with tear drop residue met mine, and I felt my heart steal itself with the anticipation of the moment ramping up.

"I'm.. I'm ready." Those eyes softened, and they leaned in. This was it, the golden moment I had spent countless nights imagining. I cupped one of their cheeks in my hand and bridged the gap, planting a kiss on those pouty lips. More followed as we found our rhythm. Ahhhhh~ my darling's tongue tasted exquisite. I was eager to taste every inch of them, and I moved down to the nape of their neck, an area I knew for sure would stimulate them. Such delicate skin, slick as my tongue slid across it. They let out a whimper, and reached a hand up to caress my horns.

"O-mmmmmmmph~" The horns are extremely sensitive areas for demons, and regardless of whether they knew it or not, they were doing a spectacular job of turning me on. I began to nibble their skin, earning trembles in response. I hold them with my left hand, and reach my right hand underneath the blankets to play with my now throbbing member, at least until Bene is ready for me. I had already leaked precum thanks to the horn stroking, it makes me wonder if they had experience. Possibly. We continued our foreplay until it escalated, and I took them into an unforgettable experience. Nothing was more euphoric than hearing them scream my new name, moan for me, cum for me, and I them. Then sink into each other as we drift into fitful sleep..

I love you so much.. now and forever, darling~

                          ~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up in the middle of the night, the demon king cuddling me close to his body. I didn't dare move, hardly even breathe. I replayed the evening's events in my mind over and over.. what the fuck was I thinking..? Hah, I wasn't thinking. My unstable emotions and impulsivity caused my brain to enter autopilot, to just give into my own madness. It's happening again.. no no no, I can't fucking do this shit again! How can he love me when he doesn't know what I am? I don't even know what the fuck I am! Except maybe a monster, a disgusting piece of filth, a run through whore, a heathen. However, when I died I thought I'd return to the worm infested ground, they'd feed on my flesh, and that would be the end of everything.. but no, here I am in that place everyone said I would go to. My body shivered violently as I felt myself become overstimulated with this vortex of negative thoughts. Don't wake up, don't wake up. Leave me alone! I just want to go home! I don't want to be here! I'm not good for you, and you'll see that soon enough! To my surprise and immense relief, he let go of me and rolled over on the bed, facing the opposite direction. Now. Now I could get up and get some air. I carefully pulled myself out of bed and crawled on all fours towards the drapes covering the windows. I opened it and morphed into my fallen form; good to know it still worked. I leaped from the window sill and flew into the dark inferno, hoping that maybe I could find a way to escape with the time allotted. Or maybe just mope around on a rock somewhere.. I honestly felt defeated already.

I landed somewhere outside the neighbouring town, and even then I had a sneaking suspicion I wasn't alone.

"Why dontcha come out and say hi? I don't bite." I smirked, and turns out I was correct. The king's second in command, Don, had been trailing me. He stepped out from the shadows, tall and imposing, much like the demon he served.

"What are you doing out here? I'm surprised the king let you out of his sight with how obsessed with you he's become. And what's with the getup?" He asked, chuckling.

"He's still asleep, so I let myself out. And this is my fallen form, something I don't usually show others." I replied, transforming back to my regular form.

"Impressive kid. But I'm gonna have to take you back, don't want his majesty losing his shit over you." He nodded as he advanced on me, grabbing my arm.

"No! I don't care if he worries, infact if he had common sense at all, he wouldn't bother! He thinks he loves me but he doesn't! He doesn't fucking know the real me and never will!" I ripped my arm away and scowled, earning a look of shock from him.

"He's convinced that I love him, or he can 'make' me love him, but the truth is I don't know what real love is. So I can't feel it.. Everything about this situation is wrong.. and even though it's not toxic right now, it will be eventually. Like clockwork.. In my house, alone but free, is where I should be. Not here.."

"So, you wanna leave, huh kid?" I nodded, and he sighed.

"I know it'll be hard for you to wait.. but I need you to be patient while I organise things. However, if you wanna leave that badly, I can help you. You gotta help me first though." He added.

"How?" I looked up at him inquisitively.

"Keep the king off my back for as long as you can, and lower his defences if possible."

"I won't have to kill him though.. will I? I don't want to hurt him.. that's the main reason I wanna leave." I murmured.

"You'll be breaking his heart regardless, so no way around that. But nah, you won't have to kill him. Leave that to me." He grinned, an ominous glow in his eyes.

"Alright, I'm in."

[wing-ed-thing]

Fraternizing and Spineless (Kabuto x Reader, Part V)

Synopsis: Kabuto has a fixation and you sometimes apologize to inanimate objects. Ever since one fateful day, you’ve been drawn to each other from opposite sides of the battlefield.

Word Count: 2,799

Warnings/Tags: Physical Bullying, Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Threat of Kidnapping/Attempted Kidnapping, Foul Language, Derogatory Language, Fem!Reader, Would y’all classify pining as angst?@tiktoktheclockisticking​ 

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Finale

Notes: This chapter is fairly violent. Nothing’s gory it’s just violent so please be warned. I kept it as vague as I could while still getting the point across. 

If you’re dissatisfied with what you’ve had in the past, you can just find other things and just add them to yourself from here on out.

Kabuto never had much to begin with, nothing he could truly call his. And even then, they were, for the most part, gifts. His glasses were a gift. His first name was a gift as was his last name. Much like an equation, Kabuto could always simply add and he always knew some semblance of the outcome.

But now there was you and Kabuto once again found himself unsure. He remained on the very edge of your bed all night, almost afraid to sit comfortably. He shook his leg anxiously, wired by the lack of sleep. Kabuto plus you. He didn’t know the answer. To add you meant to subtract other things. He had gotten used to those other things. And now, he was unsure if they even fit in the first place. Kabuto thought that maybe by the time morning came he would know, but dawn was just beginning to break. And much to his dismay, he found himself just as unsure as when night enveloped the sky.

You loved him. No one had ever told Kabuto that in his life. You loved him, and for what? He didn’t think he did a lot for you. He lounged on your furniture. He read your books and liked to make you flustered. Kabuto dared to gaze down at your unconscious form. His hand ghosted the outline of yours underneath the covers. He bit his lip. He liked being here. He liked to read with you. He loved your smile when you cooked together, when you read the comic section of the paper, when you stayed up late to talk… But was a life with you something he deserved? He didn’t think so.

You began to stir. Kabuto weaved a few hand signs. He didn’t even look as his palm made careful, yet swift, contact with your forehead. He couldn’t. Kabuto buried his face in his hands. He bought just a bit more time to think. Just a bit more time. Just a bit more time.

And by the time you woke up, you woke up with a start. You jumped, gasping as the blanket flew off of you. You glanced wildly around the room. Kabuto was nowhere to be found. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest. Kabuto had been wrong. The morning was here and you didn’t feel better.

***

You had plenty of time in your career as a ninja to properly map out the Hokage building. But even still, you never did and found yourself, per usual, lost. The halls looked the same for the most part. The rooms still went by the same number system used back with the first Hokage. And really, you didn’t have the mental energy to figure it out, not today. Despite the amount of alcohol you had last night, you could remember what happened vividly. Iruka, the good time you had, your teammates, and the burning humiliation. Kabuto. You wouldn’t have been here if you could help it.

You let out a sigh of relief halfway up the stairs as you spotted the sign at the top. You were almost on the right floor. Swinging open the door with a heave, you were met with the administrative assistant. You followed the curve of the hallway with your eyes. You could see the door to the Hokage’s door. The administrative assistant paid you little to no mind, sitting quietly behind his large, cluttered desk. You approached, tense.

“Hi, uh, I’ve been summoned?” You peeped. He didn’t look up from his work. You opened your mouth, then closed it. More silence. You tried again “I was summoned by L—” His head snapped up in annoyance and rolled his eyes.

“Name?” He asked forcefully, lugging a large book out from underneath a stack of others. You told him your name quietly and anxiously. The assistant stopped and let out a vexed grunt. You stood completely still, tense. You folded your hands neatly in front of you. He slammed the book back on the pile he got it from, causing you to jump, and instead began to rifle through one of his drawers.

“This is for you.” He held a small envelope to you. You stared for a second at the small rectangle confused before the assistant began to shake it. You apparently did not take the document quickly enough. The assistant turned straight back to his work. Confused, you opened the letter. You scanned the page, eyes widening in shock as you glanced up.

“Under investigation?” You gasped, the notice shaking in your hands. “A-And I’m suspended? For how long?” As if you didn’t have enough to deal with today.

“I don’t know, okay?” The assistant huffed. “All I know is that you’re not seeing the Hokage today.”

You had so many questions, but knowing that none of them were going to be answered, you left. And as you departed from the Hokage building, you were completely unaware that you were being stalked from the shadows.

***

Kabuto was running on fumes. Too wired to sleep, too tired to think. He felt the need to do something, so once again, he found himself in the lab. But after looking over his selection of possible specimens to study, Kabuto quickly decided that creating plans for experiments required much more effort than he had in him. He turned to cleaning and reorganization, a simple and mindless task. He had already made his way from the main laboratory to a few minor storage closets to yet more old exam rooms. Kabuto always took pride in a clean workspace, though Orochimaru had never been as dedicated.

Once again, his thoughts returned to you and he restrained himself from physically hitting his head against the nearest hard surface. He adjusted the gloves on his hands and picked up a labeled bin. Kabuto couldn’t help but wonder about what you were doing right now or if you had forgiven him. He knew perfectly well from day one that he had grown completely attached, but never had he expected for things to turn out like this. Kabuto stacked the bin with a few others in a corner of the extensive space. He leaned against the wall with a sigh, silently defying his better judgement by asking himself if you were truly happy in the Leaf. Helplessness washed over him. Yet another thing he didn’t know. He hated that feeling.

Kabuto slammed his fist against the wall next to him and a hollow reverberation echoed through the room. He blinked at the space under his wrist, giving it another strike. He turned to fully face the panel, hands spread across the cold surface. Kabuto tapped at it, shifting to his left and right to find where his tapping felt solid and where it felt empty. But with a few hand signs in the right spot, the wall disappeared to reveal a small back room.

Kabuto wandered in, kunai drawn. In the center of the room sat a lone examination table, straps sewn to the sides. Papers lay strewn around. A few vials were randomly shoved onto makeshift shelves. A chakra test kit sat at the foot of the table. Kabuto spotted a file under the single lamp that swung from the bare ceiling. Flicking it open, he found what he dreaded most. He felt a presence at the doorway. Kabuto’s shoulders dropped.

“I thought we weren’t going to pursue the girl.” He tried to make his voice as emotionless as he could. Anyone else and he would have been convincing.

“I put a lot of effort into safeguarding this room, you know.” Kabuto scoffed.

“Well, what can I say, Lord Orochimaru, you taught me well.” He turned to face the Sanin. Orochimaru stood, leaning against the doorframe. “I must say that I’m surprised. There never has been a whole lot you’ve kept from me.”

“Sure there has,” Orochimaru laughed, a certain amount of bite in his tone. “And you’ve been far too invested. I had to take things into my own hands.”

A pause. Kabuto stared at his mentor and a life changing choice stared back. All of his previous thoughts confronted him at once and he quickly came to a realization. He was out of time. For the whole day he had been putting off his decision by staying up all night, by avoiding strenuous work. But now, he stared the embodiment of his questions in the face.

“She’s protected in the village and well loved,” A lie, but one Kabuto tried his best to convince himself of. “She wouldn’t be an interesting test subject anyway.” Orochimaru frowned, eyes half lidded.

“Kabuto, your girlfriend leveled the entire eastside base.”

Kabuto did remember. He remembered the ambush at the base. How regretfully your team of Leaf shinobi had gotten the better of him. He remembered waking up without a scratch in a mile-wide crater, your body half flung over his torso. The underground base had been completely excavated and decimated to smithereens. The laboratories were gone. The many rooms and hallways were gone. All that remained were the two of you. And that’s how Kabuto Yakushi met you.

“She gave you what you wanted in exchange for the scroll.” The kunai in his hand hung by the loop on his finger, but not put away. He methodically fiddled with it’s handle.

“A few tests for a fake scroll is a measly trade,” Orochimaru rolled his eyes, though the mischief in them wasn’t lost. “Nothing I did warranted what you gave her.”

“I just gave her what you promised.” Kabuto narrowed his eyes, “So why does it look like you’re going to perform an extraction? She’s not even here.”

“And that, Kabuto, is where you’re wrong.”

***

You took your usual shortcut home. You could always tell how close you were by the number of trees. The Hokage building had always been around the epicenter of all the bustle in Konoha, and for good reason. But most of the time, you enjoyed a break from the intensity of ninja life and settle into your apartment near the outskirts of town. You cut through a thick patch of trees. A trail had been beaten into the ground long ago. The area felt like a park and served to remind you of the scenery just outside of the village. But you couldn’t enjoy your walk this time. You sensed a presence.

You began to walk faster and that was when four figures jumped out at you from the treetops. Their hitai-ate gleamed in the interrupted lighting. Sound ninja. You immediately disappeared, a jutsu you no longer needed hand signs for, and camouflaged into the scenery around you. But despite your fast-moving efforts, you were still grabbed and thrown to the ground. Your fragile jutsu broke, but you scrambled up quickly, kunai in hand. You turned on your heel, lowered in a defensive position.

“Please go away,” You nearly whimpered, “I’ve had such a rough week. Try again next week!” You argued as if that mattered to your band of attackers.

“Lord Orochimaru has explicitly expressed that we are not to leave without you.” As the words left his lips, you couldn’t help but wonder if this had been Kabuto’s doing. Though, if he had wanted to abduct you, he could have done so last night and perhaps that wouldn’t have been so bad. But you didn’t have enough time to wonder. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a volley of projectiles. You leaped to the ground, arms coming to wrap over your head.

An uproar above you. Weapons clashing and pained cries. Your head stayed down. And as the bodies of your old problem hit the ground, you heard the voice of your new problem.

“I knew you were a traitor.”

***

Kabuto refrained from gritting his teeth.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Orochimaru only smirked smugly.

“A healing chakra that can pack the power of lightning and you wonder what we can do with that?” The Sannin shrugged. “We don’t know if it’s a kekkei genkai. Perhaps a new breed of ninja but that kind of power could do many things. One could even say—” He met Kabuto’s eyes, antagonism built up and glittering in his own, —“that power could restart a heart. With enough control, that is.” Kabuto moved forward to walk back out through the doorway, but Orochimaru blocked his path.

“What is it, Lord Orochimaru?” He asked with as much restraint he could muster.

“You’re not planning to go to her are you? She’ll be here any minute.” Kabuto hesitated and for once told a most vulnerable truth.

“I really don’t know what I’m going to do.” And he was allowed to pass.

***

“Thank you for saving me!” You scrambled up to your feet, eyes wide and on the fallen bodies of your attackers. But before any of the situation could process you heard a shout of warning.

“Don’t you come any closer, Sound ninja bitch!” The kunoichi from your team stood in front of you, weapon pointed in your direction. Your head turned towards her, confused and surprised.

“What?”

“I said don’t come any closer!” You held your hands up, truly not wanting any trouble. The patch of forest didn’t dare to make a sound and neither did you. Your teammate circled you, coming closer with every circulation. Her stance never faltered. “I knew you were a lying rat from the very beginning. We all did.”

“I think there’s been a misun—”

“Keep your fucking hands up!” You listened, spreading your palms to the air. Your neck scrunched downward into your collar as you flinched. “You’re pretty fucking dumb to meet with your buddies in the open like this, even if you are close to village limits.” You kept your lips folded in a thin line. The kunoichi snarled at you. “Pick up your kunai.”

“I’m not going to fight you,” You expressed with a certain amount of reluctance and your response only served to further anger her. She sheathed her weapon and shoved you to the ground.

“What? You think you’re better than me, you sellout?” She grabbed your hair, forcing you to meet her eye. Her hand crossed right across your cheek, the sting prickling on your skin. Even so, you refused to fight a comrade. “When the others get here we’re going to take care of you—” She continued to whale on you with her fists. Your nose began to bleed. —“And we’re going to take care of that boytoy of yours too!”

And as you bled, all you could mewl was, “Please stop.” You felt a warmth spreading over your face and an uncomfortable mending. The kunoichi stared down in disgust from her vantage over you. A blue aura spread across your skin, not of your own control.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” She landed another blow to your face, her fist coming in direct contact with the blue air. A spark of chakra and she recoiled her hand with a growl. “You think you’re going to shock me? You think you’re going to hurt me with some weak ass lightning jutsu. Show me some respect and fight me like a ninja!” She punctuated each word with a strike. You sat up quickly only to be pushed back down. “Oh you finally got some fight in you, traitor?” She repeated the name like a mantra.

She didn’t notice how you had stopped bleeding or how the energy around you began to violently fluctuate. You had become completely resigned, quiet, and silently crying. You couldn’t help but wonder if you deserved this. Perhaps you shouldn’t have tried to save someone who wasn’t your own. But he turned out to be the only one who actually cared about you, unconditionally. You knew that you could never have had a happy future in the Leaf. Your heart ached for your new friends, for Iruka’s friendship, peace between shinobi nations, and for Kabuto. The tears streamed down the side of your temples but you didn’t say a word. You could feel the energy build up within you.

You tried to warn her, but one last punch and you knew it was over. The blue aura shrunk against your skin all over your body and then, in an instant, burst. An electric wave shot out from your being. The ground cracked. The trees snapped. You saw her eyes widen as the energy shot through her chest. The kunoichi looked at you, eyes wide in fear and you knew that by the time she hit the ground that she was dead.

Notes: Very dramatic, no? I didn’t know where this series was going from chapter 1. I thought maybe a slice of life but it’s taken a turn. Next chapter will be the finale! Woop woop!

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[commander-diomika]

(Click to Read From the Beginning) Part 5 - Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde, literal background Barnes/Carter Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~2500 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Opposites Attract, Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Pining, oh there's yearning in this one lads,

Summary: With the quarantine cell still under construction, it's not quite as soundproof as it ought to be.

It was remarkably easy to keep busy in the business of saving the world. Wilde made it his mission to get to know every face in town, and in turn have them know him, and like him. He made friends easily, the locals charmed by this tall man with his fluent Japanese and endless supply of entertaining stories. For the sake of the job - not just his own lingering fear - he was meeting every person on the island and building a solid network of people who would let him know the moment a new face appeared. The wider his web, the less he found himself reaching for the scar on his face.

Zolf won people over not by charming them, but by helping them. The gruff dwarf at the inn became known as someone the locals could go to when someone fell and broke something, or to use magic to help Stone Shape the stumps of houses that were slipping into sodden earth.

He also worked on supply lines. Trade was still relatively lively, but he and Wilde were in the market for more esoteric items than bread and booze. They needed adamantine for the cell, they needed anti magic equipment, and it was certain Barnes and Carter were going to return having depleted the stock of healing potions they’d taken. Strangely enough there wasn't a steady supply of any of those items on the island.

As much as Zolf wouldn’t admit it, Wilde smoothed the way when it came to trading. He charmed the locals and when Zolf appeared with increasingly obscure demands, he was seen as a friend by association. Zolf knew he wouldn’t have achieved that so quickly.

They both oversaw changes to the inn. Many rooms were separated with nothing but thin paper walls on slides, making the whole space quite modular. Wilde sequestered one of the few solid, seemingly defensible rooms on the ground floor and turned it into an office-cum-sitting room. Before their gentle takeover it had probably been a private dining room for special, or at least rich, guests. Zolf took the time to install a proper bed frame in his room, since his legs made climbing down to the floor-level futon bedding difficult.

On another continent, sentient creatures went wrong, turned on their loved ones, fought, died. Cities were turned and abandoned, and storms ravaged places that had never seen more than a light drizzle. But even knowing that elsewhere things were coming apart at the seams, there was a touch of peace in their little corner of it. For a few weeks they slipped into a routine.

Zolf rose in the mornings before Wilde, wordlessly depositing a coffee in front of the bleary man when he appeared. In the evenings that Wilde wasn’t out liaising they took to Wilde’s sitting room and read, or drank, or talked. Frequently about the mission of course, but there was only so much hashing and rehashing they could do. When things got too heavy, or nothing had changed, topics wandered. Zolf’s stories from the navy. How Wilde became a journalist. Small things. Easy things when they both just needed to put it down for a while.

Wilde would never do something so gauche as ask for forgiveness, or understanding, but some days when he reported another success, it sounded like I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.

Some days when Zolf poured coffee into Wilde’s mug it looked like you don’t have to apologise.

And on the rare mornings when some watery sunshine peeked through the clouds, as Zolf practiced in the yard with his glaive, Wilde followed to idly spectate over the paper and his breakfast, and the action felt like I don’t know why but it’s easier to be around you than not.

Barnes and Carter returned in good enough spirits and got started on their isolation in the mostly-complete cell. As soon as they returned, Zolf felt himself get itchy for action and movement again. He couldn’t even scratch the itch by properly debriefing the returnees yet; the newest information from Curie posited a hive-mind connection between those infected by the blue veins. Still, this was just the way it had to be. Zolf tried to soothe his agitation. Things were just going to move slow for now. He only had to look at Wilde’s scar to help quiet any feelings of angst. A little bit of frustration was something he could cope with if it meant what befell Wilde never, ever happened again.

Four nights after Barnes and Carter returned, Zolf sat in front of the fire attempting to read the Dwarvish tome Wilde had picked up in Damascus. It wasn’t exactly riveting stuff, and his Dwarvish was rusty, but he promised he’d at least make a dent in it. Wilde came in fresh from the bath, his hair wet and wearing the yukata he’d been gifted by one of the locals. As he passed the back of Zolf’s chair, Wilde placed a hand on one of Zolf’s shoulders and leant over to inspect the page.

This close, Zolf could smell him. There was a soft, flowery note that Zolf couldn’t identify, probably whatever he washed his hair with. And then there was the warm, familiar smell of the man himself. Zolf kept his eyes on the page in front of him.

Pointing with his other hand, Wilde spoke. “This character here- the translation guide I was using didn’t even have it. Brought the whole lot to a screeching halt. How are you getting on with it?”

Zolf, nose full of Wilde’s scent and nearness, opened his mouth to reply. “I – er, it’s fine. It’s an older script but I can read it- don’ quite understand what they’re gettin’ at, but, er.” He looked over to Wilde’s face again, profile lined in firelight. His face was so close that Zolf could lean and place a kiss on the man’s unscarred cheek, if he chose.

Wilde glanced up from the book. Their eyes met for the briefest moment before Wilde straightened, letting go of Zolf’s shoulder with a small squeeze.

“Wonderful. Let me know if anything useful comes up, will you?”

Zolf simply grunted in reply, still feeling off-kilter. This wasn’t the first time Wilde had touched him like that. As Wilde started to settle into life at the inn, started to feel a little safer, some of that old comfort was returning. Zolf didn’t mind the touching. He got the feeling Wilde was lonely. He was probably used to a lot more physical contact than he was getting now. For all he had been ingratiating himself with the locals, it was clear as day Wilde couldn’t trust them. If Zolf was the only person Wilde could reach out to…

Zolf shook his head a little and tried to focus back on the text. Wilde collected his own evening reading material, some piece of Japanese fiction, and settled in the other chair. The silence, but for the ever-present sound of rain, was comfortable enough. Their new lot in life involved a lot of waiting, and they were both doing their best to try and make peace with that.

Time passed and Zolf, already struggling to focus on the dull history book, realised he’d read the same sentence three times over. Some essential part of his mind had shifted, noting a change in the soundscape. Previously, there had been nothing but the rain and slight crackle of fire, but now there was a new element in the mix.

Zolf stared blankly at the page, listening hard. It was… conversation? Perhaps, but the innkeeper and his wife had rooms all the way on the other side of the building, and Zolf couldn’t usually hear them. It was… the wind? No, for all it was raining, it was the usual dreary patter, no strong winds to explain the slow rhythm or hint of a moan in those sounds.

Zolf’s heart beat slowly. One, two, three… and suddenly he knew what he was hearing.

Zolf looked up from his book to see if Wilde had noticed. Obviously, whatever he was reading was much more riveting than Zolf’s dry historical facts, because he was still engrossed in his book. Despite his close attention to the pages, Wilde could sense Zolf’s regard. Without Zolf even clearing his throat, he looked up.

“What?” he asked mildly to Zolf’s raised eyebrows.

“You hear tha’?” Either it had gotten louder, or Zolf’s ears had adjusted to picking out rhythmic moans and whimpers.

Wilde slipped a finger in his book to mark his place, cocking his head. With his attention drawn, he contextualised the new sound quickly (much faster than Zolf) and his eyebrows started climbing. When the brows couldn’t get any higher, he straightened in his seat and placed a hand delicately on his chest in feigned shock. “Well, we didsay that Barnes would look out for him, but that’s not quite what I had in mind.”

Zolf tried not to roll his eyes.

“And we knew that Howard would struggle with the isolation period,” Wilde continued, voice artificially prim. “I’m glad they’ve found a way to pass the time.”

Zolf’s efforts to not roll his eyes failed, then he glanced around, puzzled. “How is the sound even…?”

Wilde’s eyes were bright; his expression screaming this was the most fun he’d had in weeks. “The trapdoor. The one in the Teal Sitting Room. It’s still under construction, so…”

“So, sound is travellin’ through it.” Zolf finished the thought, voice level despite the blush he could feel rising in his cheeks.

Barnes and Carter were slowly increasing in volume. Zolf could finally make out the timbre of Carter’s voice specifically, though he’d never heard him make those noises before.

“I didn’t know that Barnes had it in him,” Wilde murmured. “Or, had it in Carter, specifically.” With that puerile comment, Wilde moved. He folded the corner of a page to mark his place and stood, checking the ties on his yukata as he did.

“Where are you going?” Zolf hissed.

Wilde smiled wickedly. “Why, to the Teal Room, of course.”

“Wilde!” Zolf said, flushing angrily. He was trying to formulate a scolding regarding privacy and eavesdropping, but the scoundrel had already stridden off. Zolf’s thighs tensed and relaxed as he went to stand then aborted the movement, debating with himself. Carter voiced a particularly sharp cry and Zolf decided that anything was better than sitting here by himself.

I’m just gonna stop Wilde from doin’ anything inappropriate, he told himself as he stood and followed.

Inside the room, Wilde leant against the doorframe, body languid as if he attended a mere dinner party. There was a tarp covering a half-constructed hole in the centre of the room. When Zolf came to hover beside him in the doorway, any lingering mystery about what was happening downstairs was dispelled.

“Fuck, James, please,”Carter sounded utterly desperate. This close, Zolf could even hear the slow rasp of movement, skin-on-skin. Barnes’ voice was harder to make out, as he responded with something quiet and urgent. There was a breath, then the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and Carter making a choked noise that pulsed straight from Zolf’s ear to his crotch.

Wilde was delighted. He looked sidelong at Zolf and mouthed the word “James?” wrapping his lips around it in impish joy, as though first names were the controversial thing about this situation.

There was a grunt from downstairs that was undoubtedly Barnes

Wilde spoke sotto voce, keeping his voice under the sound of the rain. “I knew he’d be the strong and silent type.”

Zolf didn’t reply. He didn’t know where to even start. He would hate to be overheard like this, but there was something thrilling about it. Fuck, Wilde’s a bad influence on me. He knew he should leave, just walk away, but…

The pace downstairs changed. What had previously sounded like a languorous tease picked up energy. Carter literally wailed as the thump of a cot knocking against a wall started up, one, twice, three times, continuing, not rushed but steady. Carter’s whine cut off in a muffled ermf and Zolf could see in his mind’s eye, agonisingly clear, the way that Barnes had just put his hand over Carter’s mouth.

Zolf’s eyes had been locked, unseeing, on the rough tarp, but at Carter’s stifled moan, he looked up at Wilde. He was gazing back, and Zolf was shocked to see something hungry in those eyes. Mere moments ago, the energy from Wilde had been lewd and juvenile. Something had shifted.

Wilde’s scent was still in Zolf’s nose and suddenly the image in his mind changed.

His hand, hooked behind one of Wilde’s knees, pushing it up toward his chest… fucking him open fluidly, pace keeping time with the rhythmic thudding from below. Wilde’s face flushed cheek to cheek, eyes half lidded, awash with the pleasure of it.

Zolf shut his eyes, hard, hot with shame. When he opened them, Wilde was still staring him down, a touch of that imagined flush now true in his cheeks. There was something knowing in his expression as well, as though he could see straight into Zolf’s mind and the images that lay within.

They had been so in tune with each other lately, after all.

Wilde’s mouth worked as if he was seeking words, but he was interrupted. “Heavens above, James, faster please, I’m going to-”

Wilde sucked his breath in hard as Carter came. The words died on his lips and he half-shoved past Zolf to leave the room, taking long strides and disappearing down the corridor.

Zolf stumbled. If the two men downstairs were in any state to be paying attention to their surroundings, they would have heard Zolf’s clumsy footsteps, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He went to follow, but by the time he’d caught up to Wilde, the bedroom door was shut.

There was no lock. It was only a barrier in that it was one that Wilde chose to put up. Zolf wasn’t about to go barging in where he wasn’t wanted. He lifted a hand to knock. Paused. What exactly was he here to say? To tell Wilde off? To apologise? To say, Look at me like that again, I’ll be ready this time? He lowered his hand.

Later that night in bed, for the first time in months, Zolf found himself firming a spit-slick hand around his cock, breath unsteady. He kept his mind cautiously blank. Every time he was tempted to dwell on the sound of Carter’s whimper, or Barnes’ low rasp, or that ravenouslook in Wilde’s eyes, he drew himself back to sensation alone, pleasure coiling in his gut. He certainly wasn’t thinking of Wilde’s hand on his shoulder, the relaxed set of his body as he listened to Barnes and Carter fuck downstairs, the salacious delight in his eyes.

Zolf pumped his fist faster, definitely not thinking of the thud of the cot against the cell wall downstairs as his hips rolled and breath hitched. Hanging on to awareness by a thread, he remembered the thin walls, and bit his lip to stifle his groan as he came.

His eyes closed, he listened to his hammering heart, breathing slowly. It had been a very strange night. From the buzzing post-orgasm haze, a thought emerged, unbidden.

Lavender. Lavender was what Wilde’s soap had smelled of.

[kittinoir]

Phantoms Ch. 14

Read on Ao3

Marinette couldn’t stop screaming.

Not in a way that anyone could hear, but the inside of her head was a shrill banshee call, heralding the death of her soul mate. Stupid, stupid, stupid. That was the only word that registered, occasionally breaking through that wordless wail before vanishing again.

It was our love that did this to the world.’

How could she have believed him? How had she taken that as the one honest thing Chat Blanc had said in that other world, that other time? Had it been the truth of her name lending weight to it? Was it because, even then, she’d been afraid he was right? Hadn’t she always assumed that truly pursuing Adrien would inevitably mean falling apart when she couldn’t be honest with him or prioritize a relationship?

It had been a hint, like flicking the bell. He hadn’t been telling her their love had ended the world. He’d been telling her how he knew her identity - that he loved her, and more importantly, that she loved him back. That if indeed it was their love that had destroyed everything, it was also their love that fixed it. That together, they were unstoppable. Even if he hadn’t been able to free himself from the akuma, Chat Blanc was still her partner, and he’d still been fighting with her, not against her. He’d been counting on her being smarter than her fear. He’d under-estimated how strong that fear was.

Or had he?

Had discovering Hawk Moth’s identity been the trigger last time, too? Had he known that in some timeline, some where, this discovery would be inevitable? And that when it came, Hawk Moth would take advantage of it? Had Chat Blanc tried to give her every warning he could, so that when the time came, she’d be ready?

In the present, caught up against Chat Blanc’s chest, his arm an iron band around her torso, Marinette couldn’t help but feel the effort had been wasted. But a small part of her protested. She was right. She could feel it in the way Adrien’s hand cupped her cheek, his fingertips just brushing the shell of her ear, his nails scraping her earring: hesitation.

“I suppose you were wrong, Marinette,” he cooed as his thumb caressed her cheekbone. “All that agony, for nothing. We could have been happy.”

“We will be,” she promised as he started to reach for her earring. “I promise. I’ve got it figured out now.”

Marinette slammed her elbow back, hissing as she made contact with Chat Blanc’s very solid torso. It wasn’t enough to hurt him or even break his hold, but it surprised him enough that he loosened his grip, just for a moment. It was enough; Marinette slipped from his grasp and rolled, calling Tikki as she went. In seconds, Ladybug was back on her feet and dodging Chat Blanc’s blows as she reassessed the situation.

Chloe had survived the blast that had nearly struck them with minimal injuries. She was watching Ladybug and Chat Noir spar with narrowed eyes, her mouth set in a determined line. Viperion was no where to be seen, and Ladybug had to assume he was incapacitated, or he never would have let her end up in Chat Blanc’s deadly embrace. 

A shadow moved over Chat Blanc’s shoulder and she registered Koira slipping up behind him. Ladybug adjusted her tactic to him, but it didn’t feel as natural as it did with Chat Noir. It was like missing the last step on the stairs. She couldn’t be sure Koira understood what she was doing. 

“Why won’t you help me, Marinette?” Chat Blanc said as he slipped closer again. “This is our chance to finally be rid of Hawk Moth. All I need is your Miraculous!”

“He’s manipulating us, Chat Noir,” she panted as she skipped back, dodging a series of small cataclysms. Where had Ryuuko gone? Was she down, too? “Just like always. We can’t win like this!”

“Maybe you can’t,” he conceded with a swipe, “But I can. Koira was right; we can’t beat him on our terms.” A boom shook the room as another explosion hit the wall. Concrete rained down.

Ladybug swept her leg out, but he avoided her easily. “What are you talking about?!”

“People like Hawk Moth are always one step ahead because there’s no line they won’t cross, nobody they won’t sacrifice to win.”

“And so you’re willing to sacrifice me now?”

She doubted anyone else would have noticed it, but she knew him, and so she saw it - he wavered. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Marinette,” he said, “But Gabriel needs to pay.”

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Koira said as he finally made his move. He surged up behind Chat Blanc and hooked his arms behind his back. “There’s toeing the line and then there’s crossing it, and I think you’ll find yourself ill suited to the latter.”

“Coward,” Chat Blanc hissed. “I should have known.” He gave a mighty heave and pulled Koira over his shoulder, sending him flying.

It was our love that did this to the world.

Marinette hated those movies - the ones where love was the answer. 

Love had never been the answer for her. It had only ever caused her problems. Hollywood loved to prop love up as some sort of cure-all answer, as if it were anything without trust, and hard work, and respect. Love didn’t deakumatize people - she did. Love hadn’t led them to Hawk Moth’s lair - Chloe had. 

But somehow she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was the only thing that would save Adrien now. He would have to choose. It had to be stronger than his hatred. And it wasn’t a choice she could make for him. 

Chat Blanc began to advance on her, but Ladybug just closed her eyes. “Tikki. Spots off.”

Her transformation dissolved in a familiar shower of cool red sparkles. Her heart pounded as she felt the wind from another cataclysm brush her cheek, but when she opened her eyes, she saw Chat Blanc had frozen, too. Even though it would be easy to over-power her now, he didn’t move.

“I won’t fight you,” she said calmly. She reached for her right ear. Though she never took them off, the stud slipped easily enough from the lobe. 

“Marinette!” Tikki zoomed in front of her face. “What are you doing!”

“What I have to,” Marinette said. She pulled the other stud from her ear, and Tikki vanished. She cupped the jewelry in her palm for the briefest moment. Then she held out her hand. 

Chat Blanc’s eyes narrowed. “What is this.”

Marinette’s voice was steady as she said, “This is what you want. Right?”

Confusion crossed Chat Blanc’s face. “Yes, I - ” He took a halting step toward her.

“You’re right,” she said. “Gabriel will sacrifice anything to win. Maybe you’re willing to make that choice right now, too. But I won’t. I can’t. I won’t sacrifice us. Not ever again.” 

He was in front of her then, the face that had haunted her for weeks just inches from her own. It didn’t scare her anymore.

“Marinette.” She refused to look away as he laid one white hand over her upturned palm. He felt like ice, but she didn’t move. “I’m sorry, my love. He has to pay.”

She said nothing as they stood there, balancing on a knife’s edge. She would not cajole him. She would not fight him. He had to want their future as much as she did. He had to believe it was possible. He had to want it more than he wanted revenge. She couldn’t make him; she wouldn’t waste her time trying. But she wouldn’t let Hawk Moth take this from her, too.

“All these years,” a deep voice said from the back of the room. “I never imagined Ladybug would just hand over her Miraculous.”

Distantly, Marinette’s nerves twinged: Hawk Moth would know her identity. It was a distant thought, there, then gone, not even significant enough to really register. Marinette felt more than she saw Chat Blanc stiffen, then slowly turn. She knew she should look as well, especially when Hawk Moth was addressing her directly, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Chat Blanc’s face. It was devoid of anything but icy, unforgiving rage. She had miscalculated. There would be no mercy today.

“A deal is a deal, Chat Noir,” Hawk Moth said as he stepped out from behind a silver canister at the back of the room. “Or is it Chat Blanc now?”

“You won’t live long enough for it to matter one way or the other,” Chat Blanc snarled, but even as his fingers contracted around her hand, he didn’t take the earrings.

“We’re not so different,” Hawk Moth said as though they were talking about the weather. “True, you lack any real fore-thought or follow-through, but our motivations are similar enough. Surely you of all people can understand the things we do for true love?”

Even Marinette blinked at that one. Of all the reasons she’d lain awake at night trying to imagine what drove the man, love had never even crossed her mind. It was impossible to imagine Hawk Moth loving anything other than the terror he perpetuated.

But her surprise was nothing compared to the all-encompassing horror that stifled even the beating of her heart as Hawk Moth pressed a button on the side of the cylinder he still stood beside and the lid slid back to reveal Emilie Agreste, looking for all the world like an enchanted queen cursed to eternal slumber.

Chat Blanc convulsed at the sight as though Hawk Moth had dealt him a physical blow. For all her time as Ladybug, the girl with the right idea at the right time, Marinette couldn’t get her brain to work. She hadn’t anticipated this. Who could have?

“All I want is to bring her back,” Hawk Moth was saying. “One wish to fix the damage. Surely you can understand that? Surely there’s nothing you wouldn’t do…to save the one you love?”

Marinette shuddered as she felt Hawk Moth’s gaze land on her again. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help but consider his words - if it were Adrien in the chamber, was there anything she wouldn’t do to save him?

It was impossible to know, but she could guess: losing Adrien would be better than Emilie’s suspended state and the monster she’d become to try and undo it. Adrien wouldn’t want it, and neither would she.

Chat Blanc was shaking. His fingers were tight around hers, but he wasn’t hurting her. This was it, Marinette knew. The moment had arrived. The hope she’d been holding onto when she’d called off her transformation had died when that casket lid had slid back to reveal Emilie’s face. Marinette knew his mother was the person Adrien loved most in the world. Now Hawk Moth was presenting him with a chance to bring her back. It wasn’t his fault. It was hers. She’d gambled. She’d failed to anticipate that Hawk Moth might have one more card to play. She was going to lose Adrien, and she had no one to blame but herself.

Chat Blanc’s hand scraped against hers. His back bowed like a reed in the wind, so sharply she thought it might break. And then the bell at his throat cracked. It fell to the floor in two pieces, and a scarred black butterfly emerged from the remains. The white suit dissolved as though the black one had devoured it whole, and when he finally straightened, Marinette saw that his eyes were the clear, beautiful green she knew.

“I’d worry about saving yourself,” Chat Noir panted, his voice promising violence. “Cataclysm.”

Chat Noir didn’t spare her a glance as he curled her fingers back over the earrings. Marinette didn’t waste anytime slipping them back on as her partner lead the charge. Through the haze of her transformation, she saw Koira follow Chat Noir’s lead.

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug was already running as she snatched the spotted bottle from the air. She dodged another piece of falling concrete. “Fabric dye?” She scanned the room, but the only thing that lit up was Hawk Moth.

Movement out of the corner of her eye snagged her attention. Ladybug’s heart leapt into a gallop as she spied Chloe sneaking closer to the battle, but no sooner did she begin to shout a warning than did Chloe light up as well. 

“Ok, ok, I get it,” Ladybug muttered. Her earrings ticked down to four minutes, which meant Chat Noir had three. “Time to end this once and for all.”

Ladybug loosed her yoyo, but Hawk Moth evaded it easily. Chat Noir ducked in as she pulled her yoyo back. He swiped at Hawk Moth with his cataclysm, but Hawk Moth evaded that, too. 

“You’re children,” he spat as he sent Koira sprawling. “I have nothing but time. You can’t possibly think you have a chance.”

That was when Ladybug saw the plan come together, as surely as she saw all the players standing there now. Her earrings chimed two minutes.

“We don’t need a chance,” Ladybug panted as she feinted to the left. “Just a little bit of luck.”

Chloe shot to her feet behind Hawk Moth and struck him with the piece of chain still attached to her wrist, hard. He wouldn’t feel it through the Miraculous, not really, but it was enough of a distraction. Ladybug slipped under his guard as he turned to face the new threat. She squeezed the bottle, squirting undiluted dye directly into Hawk Moth’s eyes. He never even saw Chat Noir coming.

But Ladybug saw it all. 

The way Chat Noir came from above. The paw pad on his ring flashing its last moments. The butterfly Miraculous shattering from the force of the cataclysm. And the twin flashes of green and purple as both transformations dissolved. 

NO.” Gabriel clutched the tie pin at his throat as though he could will it back together as he stumbled from the impact. And then his gaze landed on Adrien. 

Gabriel’s eyes flew wide as he regarded his son and said, “You. You? This whole time - ”

“I think you’ll find we are equally disappointed, Father.” Adrien’s voice was cold, colder than Ladybug had ever heard it. She sensed Gabriel’s move before he made it; there was no avoiding her yoyo now. She caught him mid-lunge, and he dropped to his knees.

“Gabriel Agreste,” Ladybug said, her voice steady. She’d imagined this moment a thousand times, but never thought his name would be the one she’d utter. “Your reign of terror ends now.” And then she leaned over and tore the damaged Miraculous from his throat. “I told you this was how it would end.”

But Gabriel only smirked. “If you think this is the end, you are very much mistaken.”

A white flash from the opposite side of the room caught their attention. Pegasus was half-hanging out of a portal, Ryuuko beside him. “I heard you were ready for an escape route,” Pegasus called.

“You heard right,” Koira said. Then he swept Chloe up, ignoring the way she immediately started howling like a banshee.

“I can walk,” she snapped, kicking her legs, even if the kicks were on the feeble side.

“I have no doubt,” Koira said dryly. “Unfortunately you seem to have trouble following instructions.” They vanished through the portal.

“Viperion’s down,” Ladybug said, turning back to Adrien.

“On it,” he said. He stood and, without looking at his father, strode for the back of the room.

Cement dust continued to trickle down from the cracks throughout the room. Somewhere, a creak sounded ominously. Ladybug clutched the dye bottle in her hand, bracing herself. “Miraculous Lady - ”

Marinette’s transformation dissolved and her Lucky Charm turned to dust in her hand, the Miracle Cure abruptly beyond her grasp. Before she could blink, Ryuuko was there, her rapier beneath Gabriel’s chin before he could move. He chuckled. 

“I suppose there’s no magical cure this time, is there, Ms. Dupain-Cheng?”

She got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the damage caused in the basement room. “Not this time, no. Take him.”

Ryuuko nodded, took Gabriel firmly by the arm, and escorted him through the portal. Marinette took a breath. Then another. And another. It was over. It was finally over. Hawk Moth’s reign had finally come to an end. She squeezed her fingers, felt the jagged edges of the damaged Miraculous bite into her hand, a relic of their victory.

She took two steps towards the portal, but came up short when the long skirts of her dress caught on a piece of rubble. She tugged on the fabric, took one more step.

With a groan and ear-splitting <em>crack</em>, the damaged walls gave way and the ceiling caved in. Someone screamed. 

Marinette plunged into oblivion. 

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Recovery Zine - The Bonds We Choose (Recovery Leftovers Now On Sale!)

Hello, everyone! I’m so excited to finally share the story I wrote for the @recoveryzine project that was so much fun to work on! Speaking of, the leftovers sale is now up and going and you guys should check it out! 

https://recoveryzine.tumblr.com/post/626096800774897665/recovery-leftovers-go-on-sale-august-14th-at-6pm

Support some great causes, enjoy the characters we all love, and remember to take care of yourself! 

~

Aizawa Shouta grunted at the solid kick that slammed into his crossed arms, pushing him back a couple inches across the training mats. The follow up punch was aimed directly at his exposed side a half second later, Shouta dodging the shot before catching the next swing with an open palm, ignoring the light sting and staring into the determined eyes of one Shinsou Hitoshi. 

A beat passed where the two stared each other down before Shouta let his lips twitch up into a pleased smile before he relaxed his stance, Shinsou doing the same after making certain the match was truly over. “You’ve been practicing on your speed.” 

“Like you said, none of this matters if I’m not fast enough to keep up with a fight before I get a chance to use my quirk,” Shinsou shrugged, trying for modesty even as Shouta saw the glee at his efforts being noticed. The kid soaked up praise like it was the first and last time he would ever hear it. Worrying, but it was a topic for another time since Shouta saw the exact segway he needed. 

“Speaking of, we should work on your quirk today. The physical training you’ve been doing will be useless if you don’t learn how to pair it with your quirk by the time you transfer into the heroics course.” The kid had been squirming out of quirk practice since Shouta had first started training him, but Shinsou needed to improve his quirk before he tried to start learning how to use the binding cloth. 

“Today as in… right now?” Shinsou’s voice warbled like a student who was asked for homework that had never been done; which was impressive given his expression was blank and tired as it always was. The look stirring in his eyes, though, had Shouta swearing and hoping he was imagining the fear he saw there. “I thought today was a physical training day.”

“It is. Physical training means training every part of your body - including your quirk.” Shouta felt some of his own tension drain away at the disgruntled expression he was given. “Don’t worry, kid, we’ll start simple. Do you know any of the limits of your quirk? How many people you can control, how long it lasts, anything like that? Does it always have to be a verbal answer, or will a nod work?”

There was that hesitation again, like talking about his quirk was the very last thing that Shinsou wanted to do, but eventually, after what felt like too long a silence for simple quirk questions, Shinsou shook his head. “No, I have to be given a verbal answer. I, uh, maybe other languages might make a difference, but sign language doesn’t. My quirk doesn’t activate with sign.” 

The way the words were spoken, something familiar in the tone, had Shouta lifting his hands up and signing in quick, fluid motions that would be easy to read. ‘You know sign language?’

His suspicions were confirmed when Shinsou responded in sign, a simple, ‘The basics.’ The motions were a little hesitant, so whatever he had learned had either been recent or he didn’t practice with ‘speaking’ it much. 

Shinsou went back to talking, Shouta frowning as the kid rubbed at the back of his neck, the clearest sign there was to show he was nervous. “I, uh, I don’t know how many I can control at once, but I think it’d only be one or two before I started having problems. I don’t really know a time limit, but to break out of it the person just needs a hard jab or something.”

“Alright, we’ll start today by seeing what sort of time limits you can work with when it comes to a single person not fighting back. I want you to use your quirk on me and then hold it for as long as you can. I won’t be fighting back, to begin with, but we’ll cap it at ten minutes and then go from there depending on how you feel.” 

It wasn’t the most intensive training when it came to quirks, but Shouta had a wary feeling that Shinsou didn’t practice with his quirk for more than one reason. This exercise would give them both a good idea of what he could do and also warm Shinsou up to using his quirk without any negative repercussions. It didn’t take a genius to see the quirk discrimination Shinsou had been through with a quirk like Brainwashing, after all. 

“Right.” There was the barest hitch to the words that could have been passed off as the kid still regaining his breath, but Shouta filed the information away just in case it became a problem for later. “Ten minutes?”

“Ten-” Shouta’s response ended abruptly as it felt like every empty spot in his head became stuffed with cotton while his mind disconnected from his body, the world turned on it’s side as he was unable to even make a sound or form an expression. 

He could see Shinsou’s brief smile and felt a pang of amused annoyance as he took notice of how just seeing things felt different. He could certainly understand why the average person would panic when being put under a quirk like Shinsou’s suddenly and without warning, but after a few moments of adjusting, it wasn’t that bad. 

There was no mistake the quirk was disconcerting to be under, but the disconnect was more than nice when Shouta also realized that he could hardly, if at all, feel any of the usual pain that plagued his joints and scars. It was a nice reprieve and Shouta figured if the kid decided he didn’t want to be a hero then he had a great career in physical therapy. 

Relaxing against the quirk, Shouta kept careful watch on Shinsou as best he could, noticing how the kid started to fidget and twist at his sleeves, looking at the phone he had pulled out every few seconds and obviously checking the time to keep track of the ten minute mark. 

At the hesitant call of his name, Shouta’s attention focused back on Shinsou, who was looking more and more nervous as he mumbled a soft, “It’s been a long time since I’ve kept an adult under this long, so I’m not sure how that might affect things. Just so you know.”

The disclaimer was rather unnecessary since that was the point of testing one’s quirk, so they could know how Shinsou’s quirk affected people. That was a good thing to keep in mind, though, if there were any differences in control depending on age. He had a feeling that it might be easier for an adult to break out of the control than a child, but they would have to test that in the future. 

“It’s, um, it’s been four minutes, too,” Shinsou said, something in his tone wavering as he looked between the floor and his phone. “I’m sorry, this is probably uncomfortable for you. I know my quirk can sometimes even hurt- Should I end it early? I- You can’t really answer that, I guess, but, uh- Yeah. Just… yeah.” 

He knew his quirk could hurt, huh? Shouta could guess at the types of people that had told him that, before, and he made another mental note to reassure the kid that his control was, if anything, helping his pain. 

“Aizawa-sensei, I’m- I’m not sure if we should go the full ten minutes.” Something was wrong. “I- It’s not hurting me, but it’s probably hurting you, and I know you’re a pro-hero and everything, but I- I don’t want to hurt you, Sensei.” Fuck, the kid sounded so genuine and as if the very idea of hurting someone terrified him. 

Focusing on Shinsou as much as he could, Shouta wanted to curse as he saw that the kid, in just a few short minutes, had become tense and withdrawn. He clutched at his phone with enough force to turn his hands a pale white even as he stared at the ground with his chest stuttering as if he wasn’t able to get a full breath, something in his face both utterly expressionless and completely panicked. “Aizawa-sensei, I… I can’t let go.” 

There was a beat of silence, Shinsou’s phone slipping out of his hands and crashing to the floor, Shinsou following a second later and crouching down low with his hands buried in his hair, Shouta a second away from starting to panic himself as Shinsou’s terrified mutters filled the air, a constant stream of, “Sorry, sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t do it, I don’t remember how to let go, why can’t I let go, I can’t do it-” that didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. 

A moment passed where Shouta had no idea where to even start to break Shinsou’s control before he felt it snap on his own, everything inside him shifting as the world was returned to its proper place and his mind and body were his own again; which had him stumbling in his steps as he adjusted to the familiar wave of pain that swept through him. 

Taking a single second more to reorientate himself and feel nothing except worry for the kid who wanted to so badly be a hero and yet was so terrified of his quirk, Shouta took a breath and walked forward slowly, crouching down in front of Shinsou and not quite touching him, instead asking a soft, “Shinsou? Can you hear me?”

There was no response beyond the terrified mutters and apologies, Shouta making one last mental note to talk to Recovery Girl later for suggestions on how to help Shinsou deal with what he prayed was something that only recently developed. 

Weighing a few choices quickly, Shouta finally settled for resting a hand on the back of Shinsou’s neck, the kid’s head half buried between his knees with how low to the ground he was crouched. The words all cut off and faded with a sharp silence at the physical contact, Shouta careful to keep his touch firm, but easy enough to slip away from. 

“Shinsou, can you nod if you can hear me?” Terrified, half-glazed eyes darted up to him, a half-nod being given to him. Shouta felt something in him unwind just a small amount, a breath leaving him as he gave a nod himself. “Alright. I’m going to give you a set of instructions and I want you to follow them. Can you do that?” The nod came a bit quicker this time, Shouta grateful that Shinsou hadn’t yet completely lost himself to his panic. 

“Good. Take a slow, deep breath in without rushing.” Shouta half-worried for a second that Shinsou would lose himself to his panic again before he saw the teen’s back slowly rise with the deep breath he was taking. “Good- That’s good. Now hold it for me, alright?”

Counting out five seconds in his head, Shouta lightly tapped the back of Shinsou’s neck, careful to not squeeze. “Now let it out slowly and steadily. Don’t rush it.” Waiting for a good seven seconds, Shouta gave Shinsou another tap. “Good job. Now, one more time, okay? Take another slow, deep breath in.” 

Shouta ran Shinsou through the breathing exercises a couple more times before the teen seemed to start to come back to himself, Shouta deciding he was okay when all the panic had drained out of him in favor of embarrassment, a quiet, “Sorry.” leaving him. 

“Kid- Shinsou,” Shouta waited until Shinsou was no longer looking away from him to continue. “I teach a heroics course at the most rigorous school for heroes in the country and deal with panicked and hurt civilians on a daily basis. This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with something like this and it won’t be the last.”

That, at least, seemed to help in some way, Shouta sighing as he finally sat down properly, feeling twinges of pain as his body readjusted to the new position. He watched as Shinsou copied him after a long moment, properly sitting on the floor with an expression that could only ever be called guilty. 

“‘S not very heroic, though… being afraid of your own quirk.” Ah… so Shouta had been right, then. He wished had hadn’t been. “I mean- I should be over this. I should be over this!” The fight seemed to drain out of Shinsou as quick as it had riled him up, the kid looking the very picture of dejected. “Heroes aren’t supposed to have flaws like this.” Oh. Well, then. That was something, at least, that Shouta could help with. 

“Shinsou, would you say that I’m a hero?” It was almost funny how quick the kid’s head snapped up, his eyes wide as he scrambled to answer. 

“Of course! You’re one of the most successful underground heroes- You’d be in the top ten easily if you ever went public!” Hm. It was an effort to hide the laugh he wanted to give. 

“Even though I suffer from chronic pain and narcolepsy?” Shouta didn’t make a habit of sharing his personal life with his students, but, well. Shouta had already made peace with the fact he was less of a teacher and more of a mentor to the kid. 

Shinsou, for his part, was silent and still, eyes wide as he stared at Shouta before finally managing a quiet, “You… what?”

“It’s pretty common knowledge around the teachers and my students, at least, that the use of my quirk causes dry eye,” Shouta hummed, settling down and shifting to relieve some of the pressure on his right hip. “What’s not as well known is that I have a moderate to severe case of narcolepsy depending on the current state of my health and chronic pain in my joints that I’ve had since I was a teenager.” 

Shouta wasn’t sure how to describe the look on the kid’s face, but it at least wasn’t anything bad. That was good enough. “So, after knowing all of my ‘flaws,’ do you still think I’m a hero?”

The silence lasted for only half a second more before Shinsou was looking like any other hero fan, “How could you not be a hero?! You’re basically running around and fighting quirkless while you’re always in pain! That’s incredible!”

Nemuri and Hizashi would get a kick out of this kid if Shouta ever made the mistake to let them meet, he mused to himself, but for now he batted the thoughts away and caught Shinsou’s gaze before letting himself show a small smile. 

“And so are you.” The look that showed he wanted to argue was there on his face, but Shinsou stayed quiet. That was enough, for now. “Shinsou, you’ve told me enough about yourself that I can guess what you haven’t told me.” A ‘rough childhood’ probably didn’t even cover it, after what Shouta had seen. “You’re recovering, Shinsou, and recovery, no matter what else you’ve heard, is a process. You’re never going to wake up one day and be perfectly healed, and that’s fine.” 

Shouta looked down for a moment, gathering his thoughts and pushing himself to be just personal enough to get through the kid’s stubborn head. “There were a lot of times when I was your age that I thought of giving up. I had a quirk that didn’t offer me any physical strength, I had medical problems that were only getting worse, and I was further behind my classmates than anyone else. It would have been easy to give up and go do something that wasn’t so ‘dangerous.’” 

“Why didn’t you?” Shinsou’s question was hushed and hesitant, as if afraid he wouldn’t get an answer. Honestly, he should have known by then that Shouta would never refuse to answer a question from him. “If… With all of that, how did you keep going?” 

“I almost didn’t, but… I had friends who gave me the inspiration I needed to keep fighting.” There were some memories from that time in his life that hurt so deeply, even then, but others were the only thing to keep him going after some fights. “Those bonds gave me the strength and the inspiration to see that I could keep fighting. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said recovery is a process, Shinsou. There aren’t always going to be happy days. There are going to be days where it feels like nothing will ever be good again, but those days end. Recovery is a battle that involves fighting back just as much as it involves resting and gathering your strength.”

Shouta blew out a breath, leaning back for a moment. “Recovery isn’t an end goal to achieve. It’s something you’re constantly working and improving on until you can go beyond all the limits you set for yourself. Understand?” 

Shinsou was silent, an expression on his face that showed he was thinking over Shouta’s words carefully. Finally, after what could have been an eternity, Shinsou gave a tired, but real smile. “Plus Ultra, right?” 

Shouta couldn’t have stopped his laugh if he tried, standing up and still chuckling as he ruffled the kid’s hair. “Yeah, kid. Plus Ultra.” 

There was no doubt, after that, that Shinsou Hitoshi was going to be one of the best heroes Shouta had ever seen. 

[slidewhistlebj]

TUA Season 2 is finally here! I think it was a really cool season with some really awesome potential, but there are some parts that I think really didn’t work and this is how i think they should have been fixed

(Spoilers for Season 2 of the Umbrella Academy. Obviously)

i think landing the siblings in different years was amazing, they got time to explore themselves and we could see their personalities through what they did

On the other hand, they didnt devote enough time to those storylines so it never felt like they had a solid purpose (for most of the siblings), it was more to show “time has passed”

How did Luther end up boxing under a gangster? How is he adjusting to no dad, no academy?? He was alone on the moon, He was left behind by his siblings in the academy, now he is alone and in a whole other *time* like i wanna hear about that!

Klaus has mansion and a cult and had a girlfriend benefactor lady?? Like: lets get into that! if the show wants humor that can be amazing

but it can also be really interesting and deep for exploring klaus’s need for both personal space (physically and somewhat emotionally) yet also his need for positive attention from whoever will give it to him!

More on that alone now track: the opening scene with their fighting was built to get us hyped

it fucking worked, that shit was amazing

but along with wishing that we saw more of their individual stories, i wish some of their growth had been gradual

like Klaus should have been showing off ghost stuff with his cult which is part of why they follow him which would set up his new ability to summon and conjure multiple ghosts at a time

instead of it being a throw away scene at the end where he gets caught

or Diego could have been shown in his ‘alone in dallas’ storyline to be trying to escape multiple times from the asylum and in that, figuring out his ability to start affecting other peoples shots at him, etc

Stuff like that would have been a great way to both dive into the characters *and* ramp up their abilities

Moving onto The Commission who i absolutely love so so much 

Hell yeah u funky lil time-space assassins

I think that the Handler should have stayed dead

her return to the show while awesome (because she is played so well by her actress) continues this problem for the show of seemingly running in place where things dont have consequences like they should

I also think her return made a very campy feel to certain parts which is fine, the story should have fun! but it doesnt fit with the vibe very well with the other more serious plots

Imagine a storyline where the Handler is replaced by Carmichael, a competent replacement with no close personal relationship to Five

A head to head show down throughout the season of Five trying to outthink and outwit Carmichael and Commission Agents to get a briefcase 

The misdirects! 

The drama! 

The action sequences and reveals!

More Screen Time for the Cool Ass Talking Fish 2k20!

All of which culminates in the board of directors scene but now with real weight behind it for the audience because we have been watching these two face off with one another for a season of build up

LET FIVE EAT THE FISH!

Giving that scene to the handler was the worst part of the whole season, u cant change my mind bros

This would also open up Lila to be more of her own person

Her storyline would change without the Handler there so that instead of being actively manipulated by the Handler, she has gone rogue from the commission to kill Five for her parents deaths due to previous planning and programming from her mother

(its only been 14 days for Five, a very normal turn around for him to desert, have the Handler tell Lila her version of the story, get killed, and have Lila get ready to take him down)

its generally the same plot, but Lila is more in the drivers seat

Going from tagging along with Diego in the hopes that Five returns for him to questioning some of her commitment to her mission as she spending time with them, etc

it could culminate in a reveal of her mother to Five and Diego and then a redemption where she helps them get a case from Carmichael in someway, looping her into the main plot in an important way with generally the same story

but skipping the pretty basic “obviously evil character is obviously evil but hero doesn't see it” trope that they fell into

I think that Luther’s arc in this season was awesome 10/10 gold standard

he was still him, but this storyline showcases the softer side of his loyalty and lets him grow from season 1 mistakes which is everything I hoped for

Comforting Vanya? Check

Being there for Five? Check

Being a voice of reason but still being a dumbass? Cheeeeeck

Diegos arc this season fell flat for me which was hard because he was such a main part of the plot 

This whole season had a build-up trying to break down Diego’s need to be a hero (which they turned to a fucking 11 from last season?? he was not *this* intense last season, im not quite sure why they made the switch), telling him that he isnt / cant be the hero

I assumed this was leading to Diego having a big moment or sacrifice that proved that hero or not, he cares and the effort that he puts into all of these different things matters

But it just didnt??

He didnt stop the president from being assassinated, he didnt save vanya, at the farm he got trapped under a tractor

it just felt like the point was “haha see he isnt a hero”

which,,,,,,okay? What the point of that??

His involvement with the Commision was weird too, i didnt care for him being a part of that storyline very much, it just didnt add anything

Allison’s arc was just on the edge of greatness for me

it was an awesome choice to put in her in a position where she wasnt treated equally and show exactly what kind of person she is by how she fights back

her not using her rumors also seems very genuine and character based here like: 10/10 character motivations and work

My one complaint, like with just about all the partners in this season, is that she fell in love with a man and just had to leave him 

which makes sense and they talk about it but like: she loves him, its hard to picture someone as loving and loyal as Allison just leaving her husband behind forever 

Klaus’s arc just needed more *time*

He is a hella deep character but all of his story lines needed more time to be able to address that complexity 

Show us more of the cult and his ghost powers being used there to trick and amaze and how he has been handling being cut off from the family again

I,,,,,,I understand,,,dave’s storyline

I get the time period

but fuck

that just hurts

I think Klaus not trying to rekindle his relationship with a younger Dave, but trying to protect him from the war was an amazing angle and it needed more time to get the full punch of klaus pulling out all the stops to save him but failing to really land it

Five

My Son

My Trash Boy

I feel like his job as ‘leader of the stop the apocalypse’ movement is good but that was his whole story this time around

He should have gotten more to play off of with the Commission (*cough cough* Carmichael) in his fight to get a briefcase instead of what felt like 10 hours of Five trying to herd his siblings and them just fucking up in someway or another

Five and Older Five was a cool dynamic and im glad they brought him in but again, it just felt like another long storyline attempt that didnt have a purpose as they ended the scene without the case or anything new

Ben’s arc was,,,,,strange

I love Ben and i think his interplay with Klaus is really cool!

But the writers made him fall in love which someone so they could give him a reason to want to possess Klaus which i feel like didnt need to happen

The possession was a good part of the season and could have been taken to some awesome places

It was rough and the ‘consent’ wasnt run entirely well but i think the possession is supposed to be on the line and not quite black and white 

its Ben asking to take control of Klaus! That can be conflict! Thats good stuff right there! Ben is selfish! so is Klaus! thats a cool story to get into between them and see how they try to work it out

Ben wanting to connect with his other siblings after the small taste of being corporeal that he got and pushing Klaus for more and more of that freedom into possession territory would be A+ shit

and Finally: Vanya!

I think most amnesia plots are lazy and just a way to stall progress and reset a character so you can run a very similar plot again but this one seemed to genuinely grow Vanya’s character, even when she remembered 

She definitely has more personality in this season

And while shes quiet, thats just who she is, she isnt as afraid to take space and speak up which is awesome!

And this stays when she gets her memory back which is very good, i dont want to see backsliding for no reason! Give me growth!

I have two complaints about her storyline though

 First Sissy and Harlan

I love both of them and I think they are really cool characters!

Theyre pretty similar to vanya season 1, taking whatever is thrown at them which places Vanya in a more assertive position where she wants to protect them which i loved!

but their ending doesn't sit entirely right with me, just like Raymonds

These characters are in love and they all just leave each other so that the siblings can have a clean, no characters permanently added slate for the next season

it just makes me tired and i really want season 3 to have little to no romance if the only way the show can go about it is to do a love interest per season

My second problem gets its own section because it is the culmination of everything else i have said 

episode ten

Vanya is strong af so any writer that wants big final fight needs to very carefully weigh out how to give each sibling their appropriately sized struggle so they get equal ability to contribute

Instead of doing that though, they did my least favorite trope: Evil Character secretly can do everything the heros can but better and without a problem or ***training***

It meant that they could do whatever they wanted with throwing commission agents at them because Luther, Allison, and Klaus were completely added on just to react to things

Five sort of got to do some fighting (<3 thats my lil geriatric 13 year old) but it was minor, he was mainly there to very obviously turn back time when the big bad shoot out happened

Diego got the most to do out of the siblings and it was suddenly knowing a new ability and doing it a little bit

I dont want a final fight to be trying to woo a bad guy to the good side because theyre too strong to fight 

I want there to be stakes and drama as the siblings show off exactly what the season was all about, what they learned, how they grew together and apart, etc and to take down the big bad which could have very easily been the united front of the Commission instead of 18% Vanya, 15% Harlan, 30% Lila and the Handler, 20% the Swede(s), etc

Lila’s turn to good could have been to help them sneak attack the commission, maybe in their base so as to shrink the fighting to manageable bites for each character?

That would have allowed five’s killing of the board to draw the fighting to a close, a hard decision for him as he is trying to move away from killing but does so to save his family, always to save his family :’( 

Luther could protect his siblings from hits like they showed at the beginning in a way that mirrors how he has been doing that emotionally all season

etc etc etc for all of the siblings so that they each get to show off and have their moment in the spotlight as heros

I loved the season even though i just ranted for like 3 pages, and it has some of the best one liners and line readings ever (”Thats where you come in Five” “Nope. No it isnt”) I just wish that some parts of it had been given some more thought / care so they could really show of the amazing cast, effects, sets, etc without writing in the way

[thetorturerwrites]

Puer Deus: Daughter

This amazing artwork was gifted to me by @faestae-writes​. Please do not re-use or re-post it without permission from them and/or myself. Don’t be a dickbag.

***

Captured / Hurricane / Sustenance / Liar / Scars / Proof / Strings / Reputation

Summary:  Unbecoming and becoming

A/N:  18+ only.  Physical violence; sadism; references to abuse; smut; murder

Word Count: 7.1k

Day Nine

The night passed with bursts of turbulent sleep sprinkled with anxious longing.  Each time you woke, you tried to track the fissure of your discontent to its source, and you tamped down the lump in your throat when you realized this was the longest you had ever gone without some version of Ren’s wickedness upon your body. You felt lacking, mournful, empty without it.

He caught you watching him a few times, after your eyes had adjusted and the ship had settled into white noise. He didn’t say anything, preferring instead to tug at your lower lip or earlobe until you relented and closed your eyes again. When his breathing evened out in dream, you barely kept yourself from tracing the scar on his face and the fading bits of pink at his throat.

You were flooded with questions, fears. Had he known that cutting you open like that would mark him, too?  Had it hurt when he did it?  Did he do it anyways, and what did that mean? Why had he given you so much leverage? Kylo Ren was not a patient man.  Was he so convinced of your weakness that he offered you this pretend peace?

“Quiet yourself,” his voice was hushed, “Or I will quiet you.”

You chewed your lower lip and nodded, remembering that he could see and hear you. You concentrated on his breathing until it was again restful and balanced before you replayed all of yesterday, the words and sounds, the feelings he’d expertly crafted and torn asunder. 

Ren had spent a week laying you low, retooling and repurposing your will to survive. You had spent years on full-time alert, ever vigilant against Santcha and his machinations.  Ren had stolen that anxiety from your very soul and replaced it with only him.

Your fear of him was absolute, and he did set you to trembling just by being in the room.  But he was also the eye of the storm, the calming post to which you could tether.  He would hurt you, but he would keep you alive and safe so that he could continue to plunder your body for the tender treasure buried inside.

Could he give to you, though? Or was their only take in his heart?

You felt the idea solidify in the pit of your stomach, the decision made bodily and without conscious involvement, and you swallowed dry hesitation.  Your savage reflection had come for you in this dark room, where you lie surrounded by murderers and thieves.  She slid into your skin, looked at Ren through your eyes, and hungered, salivated, for the future he promised.

Licking your lips, you gave yourself one more breath to decide on your course, another second for your rational brain to back out, but the compulsion to change direction didn’t come. You settled into determination, your body rising to the moment, to the cliff from which you were about to jump. No part of you doubted what you were about to do.

If you were going to be the devil’s doll, you wanted something in return.

Inching alongside Ren, you memorized the peaceful look on his face as he slept.  The tormented man he had been until yesterday seemed like he didn’t sleep much, but this man was no longer terrorized, no longer chased into exhaustion by a relentless Master who dogged his every step.

You longed for dreamless sleep like that.

Tucking yourself in close, you pressed your torso to his, expelling a tremulous breath as your stiff nipples dragged his skin.  You wiggled in closer until your mouth was just below his ear, creeping into his space, the counterpart to his crowding.

He shifted against you, a quiet sigh puffing breath into your hair, and you bit back a groan at how good it felt to be so near him.  His musky smell invaded your nose, setting your tongue to curling into the roof of your mouth.  His skin was softer than you remembered, and you traced the length of one abdominal muscle to watch it ripple on reflex.  

Ren was massive and unyielding, and he caged you without even trying.

You peppered soft kisses into the sensitive skin just beneath his ear and reached down to palm his soft dick, gently rubbing and cupping it against his body. You licked and nipped at his earlobe and buried your face into the raven curls, tugging on a lock between your teeth.   

His cock was the first part of him to respond, twitching to life and lengthening against your hand, and you hummed into his shoulder. It still amazed you that you could provoke a response in such a man. Ignoring your body’s shouts for his touch, you slowly stroked his arousal, loose with just your fingertips, and plied his jaw and neck with lingering, lips-dragging kisses.

“You play a dangerous game, puppet.”

His raspy tone delighted you, sent tingles up your spine to spread through your ribs, and you dipped your tongue into the hollow of his throat, wanting to feel the vocal cords resonate. Ren’s heavy arm pulled from beneath the pillow and wrapped down around your middle, hugging you tight, while deft fingers slid up your throat to circle and clasp until you whimpered.

You arched into him, molding your body to his and nuzzling his cheek, and tried to concentrate on anything other than the delicious, dull throb that drummed between your thighs.  You only had one shot at this, and you couldn’t abandon the bid now.

Releasing your loose hold on Ren’s cock, you lifted trembling fingers to his mouth, tracing the full lower lip. He growled and clutched tighter at your neck, but you licked at the corner of his mouth, whispering the barest “please” there. Your soft, sensuous moan when he relented and parted his lips for you drew his hungry gaze, and you were quickly losing your composure.

You slid two fingers along the length of his tongue just as he’d done to you so many times, and your core clenched when he bit down to flick the end at your fingertips before letting them go.  You wrapped slick fingers around his cock and began to stroke more insistently, relishing in his sharp intake of breath.

Every part of you was wet and wanting, loose and pliant. The air was perfumed with the mingling of your lust and his, and your head swam with the pure headiness of it. It was impossible, you decided, that any other man in the history of the Galaxy had ever been sexier than Ren in this very moment. 

“Will you do something for me? Just one thing, and I’ll be yours.”

Shifting his grip to the back of your neck, Ren caressed your shoulder with his plump lips, and you fought to remember your plan, the words you had decided upon before he agreed to play your game.  Doubling down, you hardened your stroke, earning a delicious groan.

“This isn’t a negotiation, pet,” he growled the words into your throat, chasing them with a long, slow lick.

“Isn’t it?”

You were breathless, but you pressed on with more conviction than you thought you had. You squeezed a hot drop of arousal from the crown of his cock and rubbed it into the solid length.

“You said that you wouldn’t hurt me again until I asked you, and you’ve never lied to me, Kylo.”

He cursed under his breath as your stroking picked up pace, his cock coated with a steady stream of pre-cum. He had you trapped inside his arms, caught and penned in; but this time, you were the one working him, and the raw dominance of it was intoxicating.

“I’m only asking for one thing, and I’ll give you what you want.”

He captured your wrist and pulled your sticky fingers away with a barely concealed shudder.  Turning your hand, he pressed his lips into the center of your palm.  Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away as he licked at your fingers, tasting himself on your skin.

“Ask,” his voice was even, sinful.

“Santcha,” you wavered as he sucked on your index finger. “Find him. Kill him.”  

You trembled against him, hardly believing you were saying these words out loud. He tucked your licked-clean palm between your legs, working the digits to brush through the collecting moisture. You sucked on your cheek and jerked with the effort to clear your head.

“I will give you what you want when he’s dead.”

Ren lifted, turning your face out from the curve of his neck so he could gaze down upon you. You took the opportunity to steal your hand from your pussy and pressed the hot, syrupy fingers against his ribs, not missing the way his muscles flexed under your touch.

His face changed, shadowed by something new, something you didn’t intend, and his grip tightened around your throat. Whatever control you thought you’d had was gone, and you were under the creature’s claws once again.

“Between now and then, do you mean to tease me into compliance?” 

He cocked a brow and shifted so that you were more beneath him, sliding a thick leg between yours and pressing your body down into it.  He purred at the feel of your swollen, wet lips, his heavy hand rocking your hips to drag your slick along his thigh.  

“Or did your plan involve me fucking this hungry cunt all along?”

The sound that came from you was pure, ragged arousal, and it shocked even you. You pressed at his shoulders weakly, not even sure you wanted him to move away. You hadn’t planned further than waking him up and making your demand.  

Foolishly, you’d expected him to be just like any other man.

“N-no,” you shook your head, but you were losing the battle for sanity, so caught up in how easily he completely smashed the strong mask you’d worked so hard to don.

He shifted again, claiming the space between your legs fully and spreading them apart with his knees. His great hand dragged down from throat to chest, and he leaned his weight into you there.  Your eyes rolled back into your head on a moan, fingers chasing his wrist to clutch nervously.

You’d almost forgotten how good it felt to have him steal your breath this way.

“No? You planned to dangle this body, my body,” he dug fingers into your hip and lifted it up as though it was evidence, “In front of me, thinking yourself just out of reach, to bend me to your will?"

“No!” It was barely a whisper, but you were had. Your game was up.

“Do you think there are no others who would spread their legs for me?” His voice had hardened, and he shot the words at you like nails. “That I can be manipulated like other men with the promise of a little pussy?”

Your face darkened, and you spat your next words out, his bullshit igniting fire in your nerve.

“Is that why you want to keep me here, hm? Because you DON’T want to fuck me?”

Your daring gaze locked on his, anger flashing yours clear and bright. His teeth gnashed and he leaned further down into you, compressing your lungs in his irritation.  You had nothing to lose; so, you hit him with outright honesty.

“You’re not a man.  You’re a brute, a beast.” 

You had to stop every few words to fight for enough air that you could continue. 

“Is that what you want to hear?  You’re cruel, and you scare me, and you make me want things I shouldn’t.” 

You paused to gasp for breath, twisting fingers around his wrist and writhing beneath his palm. He was intent upon collapsing your bones with his weight, and you feared you would soon hear the crack as they splintered.

“But I’m here.  And I showed you I’m here with the only thing I have, the only thing you left me with.”

Your face flushed, red and mottled.  You scratched at his forearm and lifted your shoulders and torso up into his heavy hand as much as you could, spurred on by the stinging needles in your lungs and the bitter bile you could taste at the back of your mouth.

“So, if you don’t want it, get the fuck off me and go find someone else because YOU’RE HURTING ME.”

You shouted the last words, hoping to jar him from his ire and remind him that he’d told you he wouldn’t do exactly this.  You dropped back onto the mattress in defeat, but you met his annoyed glower with your own.

He would always win, but you would always fight back.

“Supreme Leader,” the voice came from the door where you could not see, “We found them.”

Ren chuffed a laugh and nodded, leaning down into you until his nose brushed yours.  His weight won pathetic whimpers and sobs, his breath singed your lips, and his mocking grin shot ice into your heart.

“Not yet, puppet.” He licked at the corner of your mouth and pushed off of you suddenly. “But soon.”

In an hour, the Night Buzzard had landed, the Knights of Ren were disembarked and waiting, and you were standing in the common area of the ship with Ren.  You had been fed and dressed similar to all of them, black as night, fabric hugging as close to your skin as you could make it, the shape of your body hidden behind various layers and folds.

Ren donned his helmet, and you forgot to breathe. You gawked, struck dumb by the sight.

Reconstructed, the inky black you remembered was shot through with lava lines, angry glue to hold the bits of it, of him, back together. You didn’t know when he had it repaired, but it was striking, and you lightly traced the craggy red veins, thinking they reminded you of your blood, your own scars now.  Had he done that on purpose?

Waving you off, he lifted the hood on your cloak and settled it far around your face, hiding you in the shadowy recesses. You looked up at him, lingering as long as he would allow in this stolen moment and wondering if this was some semblance of affection.

He said nothing but tapped his gloved index finger against your lower lip.  It was instruction, a warning, and you nodded, desire licking up into your ears at the memory of that finger hooked into your teeth.  

Ren still wanted to keep the voice he’d given you for himself, and it satisfied you to no end that he didn’t want to share this basic function with anyone else.

You were the last to leave the ship, following a few paces back because you didn’t know what your purpose here was.  He certainly didn’t require a weaponer, and you were nothing but an object to him beyond that. Like a child, you trailed behind, uncertain and unwilling to dive head first into the next five minutes.

He stopped midway down the ramp and turned to look at you over his shoulder.  Even with the mask, you knew it was a withering stare, and you sped up to catch him. You were dawdling in your nervousness, and that simply would not do.

You wanted to reach for him, to cling to his cloak or shirt sleeve as though he would soothe and comfort you, but you didn’t think he would do either and kept your fisted hands to yourself.

“No, no, that ain’t right.”

You heard the voice before you saw the man, though, and your hand flew of its own accord to grip Ren’s cloak. Your steps faltered, and you couldn’t move. Your body broke out in a cold sweat because that voice, that fucking voice, haunted your dreams.

Let go, puppet.

The sound of Ren’s narcotic tone resonating in your head shocked you to your soles, and your saucer-wide eyes locked on him.  As though he had burned you, you let go of his cloak immediately, tucking your hands back into the black at your arms and hoping none of the Knights had seen you cling to him like a fool.

“I’m telling you,” Santcha sneered, “We don’t trade with no Rebel scum. Whatever you’ve heard, it's false."

You snorted, too loud for your own good, shook from your pitiful reverie by the snide dissent.  Lies.  The man was only capable of lies.  You’d been captured on a damn weapons raid.  He had even left you behind! And he wanted to pretend like somebody else was there.

“You will be pleased to know,” Ren’s modulated voice cut through the air as he descended the last few steps into visibility, “I’m not interested in your weapons trade today.”

“Commander Ren,” Santcha’s surprise was clear, and you could hear the fear in his voice. “Wha-what can we help you with, Sir?”

“You will tell your Supreme Leader,” Ren’s bitterness rolled through the vocoder in thick, ill-tempered waves, “About the weaponer you’ve lost.”

“Supreme Leader, yes,” Santcha puffed out breath after vile breath, “I’m sorry, Supreme Leader, but I’m the only weaponer on this ship. Perhaps you have been misinformed.”

From your perch, you could see beads of sweat rolling down Santcha’s neck. He never did know when to shut up, and you looked from him to the old man a step behind, your Master, watching as he let Santcha dig himself an even deeper hole.  He was always the great manipulator, you thought, happy to shuck the dead weight when it stopped being useful.

Ren spoke your name.  It was simple and clear, and it hit Santcha in the chest like a bomb. You saw the moment it registered that he couldn’t simply pretend you didn’t exist. He would need a new tactic.  Back peddling, he stammered and nodded.

“Oh her? Yes, she was a weaponer of ours for a brief while. Worthless, though, bad at her job, always late. Kept trying to fuck all the customers. We cut her loose.”

“Worthless traders seem to be common.”

You remembered when the threat in that voice was directed at you, when the venom behind that word turned it from occupation to insult. Even Santcha didn’t miss the scorn coming through the helmet, and his slimy face scrunched up distastefully.

Ren glanced over his shoulder again briefly, and you took that as your cue to finish descending the ramp, coming fully into view.  You knew that you didn’t look much different from the others, clad all in black.  You could simply be a member of the crew, smaller of build, shorter than the rest.

You quaked with fury and trepidation inside the robes, but you kept moving forward until you were between captives and captor. Santcha shifted his gaze from Ren to you, the corners of his lips turning down in annoyance that you were interrupting his audience with the Supreme Leader.  His cohort, your Master, caught on before he did.

“Daughter,” your Master’s voice was affable, soft, the way it always was, and your hate-filled gaze shot to him, ignoring the way Santcha ogled you, stupefied.

You loathed that word, that bastard lie of a title. Slaves are not sons, not daughters.

Everything in you, every feeling you had ever had snapped in the next second.  Weeks, months, years of bottling up layer upon layer of abuse had been completely undone by Kylo Ren in a week, and you burned with righteous indignation.

The tirade that spilled forth over your lips couldn’t have been stopped upon pain of death. It was too long repressed, too long deserved.

“I AM NOT,” your voice boomed out from inside the cloak, just as your booted foot came up to the old man’s pudgy chest, “YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER.”

You were live-wire adrenaline, mania-fueled and singular in purpose.  If these two had prepared you to endure Ren’s torture, Ren had prepared you for exactly this, to explode upon them with no reservation. 

Your boot came down again and again upon your Master’s chest, stomach, shoulders.  You cursed and heaved and yelled on every ferocious stomp, pommeling this scum of a man with every ounce of anguish you’d ever endured at his hand.

You weren’t simply radiating your pain now. You were wielding it like a weapon, and you watched him shrink, shriveling further away under the surge.

Santcha leapt to his feet, a snarl on his face, and reached for you only to be suspended mid-air. He yelped and was dragged away to hang helpless, forced to look on as the woman he was certain he’d broken long ago erupted into madness.

In your riotous fit, the cloak was cumbersome and weighty. You felt constricted by all of the layers Ren had dressed you in, and you needed to feel every second of this. You tore the cloak away, followed by sleeves and half of the shirt. 

You were a feral thing now, bloodthirsty and insatiable.

You bent back down to your target and pounded at his face with bare-knuckled brutality until your hands were lacerated and throbbing. When you finally stepped away, you were spattered with the old man’s blood and gulping down air. 

Santcha spit every curse he could think of at you, calling you every kind of whore under the twin suns, having forgotten that Ren was right there, watching and listening. He never was good for minding his surroundings.

Just as Ren’s Force hold slid around his neck, shutting up his idiotic tirade, you leveled him with a deadly stare, lips twisting into a sardonic smirk.

“I am someone’s whore, Santcha.  But not yours.  Never yours.”

You heard Ren’s lusty growl from where you stood, and it blossomed a bonfire in your body. You stepped over to him, and he wrapped gloved fingers around your bare throat, spreading the old man’s blood into your flushing skin. He would punish you for disobeying his gag order; but for now, his touch was something akin to understanding, and you were grateful for it.

“Let the past die.”  Ren pulled the vibroblade from his cloak and pushed it into your hands. “Kill it if you have to. It's the only way to become who you were meant to be.”

Mine.

His dulcet declaration rang in your ears, and the sheer force of his will echoed in your bones.  Wrapping bloody digits tight around the handle, you turned back to the men who had spent years beating you, maiming and wounding you.

Looking at them, you found yourself strangely thankful. It was abrupt and overwhelming. Every scratch, wound, bruise, and broken bone had molded you into this creature, able to bear Ren’s violence, his rage, his magnificent, dark, sadistic hunger. 

They had unknowingly made you a strong and capable receptacle, fit for this Child God and his wondrous wrath.

As the reality of it took root, you found you could forgive them for a great many things, all manner of immorality and atrocities.

All but two.

You were fluid as you stepped to your Master, calm and absent inhibition. This man was going to suffer at your hand. It was absolute. 

You crouched down over him, ignoring the pitiful sniffles and sobs, and tore away the patchwork rags to bear his abdomen. You ran the backs of your fingers along the path your blade would take and relished the tremble of his body.

Animosity flooded you from ears to toes. He deserved this, every agonizing fucking second of it. 

You almost thought you wouldn’t do it, a flash of second-guessing, but you sought counsel over your shoulder from Ren, your dark deity, your inhuman savior. Nearly imperceptible, he nodded at you, nudging you forward.

Remembering how this manipulative, contemptible, degenerate man had ignored your pleas, you ignited the blade and sunk it deep into his belly, listening to the skin and guts sizzling at the fierce weapon’s path.

Hot blood gushed up around your fingers, wrists, and forearms, but you didn’t hesitate in your scheme. You cut the man’s abdomen open from one side to the other in retribution for the future he’d stolen from you. 

It was a gruesome, smiling reckoning, a worthy offering to an ominous idol.

Momentarily appeased, you watched the old man bleed out.  You wiped some of his filth from your face and licked the taste of it from your thumb.  If this was the Dark Side, you understood the pull, and you thought you’d let Ren break every bone in your body just for this moment, this chance to be the avenging spirit in the void.

Your merciless stare landed upon Santcha, who was now sniveling and groveling with agitated tears, shaking and twisting in Ren’s Force choke hold.  The knife thrummed and buzzed in your hand, and you tested your slippery grip, using Santcha’s own shirt to wipe away enough of the old man’s gore so you could hold the weapon steady.

You stepped up to him, toe to toe for the first time in a decade, and lifted your eyes to his.  It was his stare that was afraid now, his lips that wobbled in terror.  Your acid gaze trailed to the hollow of his throat, and you remembered the day he’d taken your voice, the disdain in his eyes, and the way he spat into your open wound.  

“Never yours, Santcha.”

You lifted the vibroblade and sunk it directly into the center of his neck, earning a pop, a gurgle, and a torrent of Santcha’s blood spurting and trailing down his chest to mingle with that already decorating your body. Sated, you watched him jerk and twitch before dislodging the blade and dropping it to the ground.

In a matter of heartbeats, it was done.

You looked from one body to the other and then to Ren, your eyes wide and glassy.  The weight of what you’d just done settled, and the tidal wave of hostile vitriol you’d been riding crested. You lifted tremor-wracked hands and stared at the carnage webbed between your fingers.

He was on you in a second, one large arm wrapped around your back just as your legs weakened and threatened to abandon you. He crowded in and pressed himself to you, and your brow furrowed, thinking you were never so grateful for his callous disregard of personal space. Leather slid around your delicate nape to squeeze, centering your focus as he always did.

“No survivors, puppet.” 

It was a simple thing, a question and a statement. In his deliberate way, Ren was asking if you were able to stand for the length of time it would take him to finish your killing spree.  Thunderstruck, you wondered when this had become life and nodded a numb reply.

You heard the whoosh of the lightsaber and saw red at the edges of your vision, but you closed your eyes to concentrate on stopping the clattering of your teeth and didn’t see whatever he did next to ensure your revenge was finished.

The feel of his flesh fingers pulled a crackly whimper from your desert-dry throat, and you looked up to see his face. You traced his lips with dirty, trembling fingertips and marveled at the path destiny had unfolded for you with this livid angel, this monstrosity of a man.

Your head swam with the profanity, the vulgarity of it all.  You’d asked Ren to kill Santcha for you, and he’d given you the opportunity and the weapon to do it yourself. His hands on your body, his ever-present sanguine need, and his hedonist black heart had built you up so that there was no fear, no doubt.  

Having survived the pure magnitude of Kylo Ren, was there nothing you could not do now?

“I need to see.” You pushed at his hands suddenly, turning in his arms in the direction of the ramp. “I need to see! Kylo, I need…”

The hysteria in your voice concerned you, but the undercurrent of gratification and carnality concerned you more.  You tore through the ship and found the communal bathroom with its one commode, one basin sink, and one little, dingy, cloudy mirror.

The auto-light blipped into awareness as you skidded in and washed the room with light just in time for you to see her, staring back at you, bold and unflinching.

She was blood-soaked and panting.  Her lips and eyes were swollen from the terrible eruption of emotion.  Ruddy fingers wiped gore from her mouth, and you could see her knuckles were swollen, grisly from use. She looked beat to hell, as though she barely made it out of the fight alive.

But it was her eyes that captivated you.

Shining, rabid, and ferocious, her pupils were blown wide with untamed yearning and satisfied murderous thirst.  She was a fearsome sight to behold. In a spark of recognition, you knew where you’d seen those eyes before.

She was looking back at you with his eyes.

Ren stepped into the bathroom and wrapped himself about you, long arms enveloping you into his sedative gravity.  You sighed, relieved, and he buried his face into the bend of your neck, murmuring against the drying blood that you had done so well.  His fingertips skimmed across your belly, skittering delectably until they dipped below the waistband of your trousers.

On impulse, your hand shot up to slam against the glass. It drew his omnivore glare, but you were ready, aching for him to consume you whole. He pressed against you, the hard column of his body pinning you to the sink. He dug his fingertips into the round of your hips, eyes boring into you, daring you to speak.

“Show me,” you implored, your modulated voice choppy with something unnamed. “Please.”

He growled into your ear, the flash of understanding shocking his features into intimidating artistry, and he pressed his lips into your temple and held them there. You couldn’t tell if he was more excited that you’d asked him to hurt you or that you wanted to watch him do it.

But you were looking for something else.

Your breath skipped when you locked eyes with her, waiting to see not just what he would do, but how she looked when he did it.

With no further notice, Ren’s fingers burrowed viciously into your stomach, curling into the skin in an attempt to wrap around the lowermost ridge.  You shouted out, the vocoder inflection haunting and harrowed, and desperately tried to not look away as he found purchase beneath your rib cage.  

He lifted you by this unnatural handle, pulling you back into his unforgiving chest and lifting you off of the ground. You whined as your entire middle pulsed, the muscles straining around the invasion.  Determined to control the sobs, you pressed your mouth into a thin line, fighting through this unholy grip to open your eyes.

Making that contact, you sucked in a pained wheeze and studied the woman looking back at you.  Her hands had slithered over top of his, the scrambling fingers wrapping around his wrists.  She wasn’t trying to push him away; she was grounding herself to his painful caress.

That woman flushed an enticing shade of aroused, her face screwed into an alluring grimace. You brimmed with understanding, clarity. 

Ren was right.  That woman suffered beautifully.

His hands released your ribs, and you collapsed against the sink. Air rushed back in unimpeded, and you gulped it in, dropping your head back against his chest.  He kissed the top of your head and tucked his fingers in beneath your arms.  Unrelenting, the large digits gouged in again just above the topmost rib, right into the soft axillae.  He ground and twisted into the skin until you sobbed.

“Look,” he commanded, his voice brokering no resistance.

You shook your head, not ready and hoping for more time for the endorphins to catch up to you, but he needled your sides until you gripped the sink tight and stood onto your toes.  Forcing your abdomen to expand, you concentrated on your breath and complied, cracking your eyes open to meet his demand.

“You got what you wanted.” 

You nodded along with his words, frozen but eager for what you knew came next.  The demon lived up to his bargain, and the bill was due.

“Say it.”

He eased the punitive digging and slid his fingers down over your soft abdomen, pulling you backwards into him.  His touch was whisper soft in the wake of what you knew would be two new bruises, burgeoning with a whirlwind of color. He pressed his eager length into you again, and you groaned at the feel of him, hard and ready.

You drew in a ragged breath and turned in his embrace.  Everything that would never be said hung in the air, and you looked up at him, brazen and blistered.  Lifting his hand, you bent down and pressed your filthy, bloody mouth against his palm before raising the fingers to your neck, training them to curve around with your own.

It wasn’t that you were suddenly fearless.  It was that you rode the fear, feeling it slide between your legs and pool under your tongue.

“Make me yours.”

You were terrified of what would come next, but it was as inevitable as dawn, as waves crashing on the shore.  Ren had infiltrated each atom and synapse of your being, remapping your genetic code to blend his hurt with your sorrow.

He had ensured that you would worship him with your every breath, every scream, every shed tear.

You expected him to explode, to roar and growl and plow you over with angry haste and impunity.  Instead, he leaned in to nudge at your nose with his, and your brave facade cracked. He tightened his hold on your throat, hearkening you back to yesterday and the sweet threats he made.

“You woke up this morning mine, puppet,” he nipped at your ear. “Ask for what you want.”

Tucking his hands under your thighs, he lifted you and set you onto the metal sink, bending to watch you through heavy lids and long, black lashes.  You clutched at his shirt,burying your face into the fabric in a forlorn attempt to put off the inevitable. He was going to make you beg, just like he told you he would.

You shook and cried into his chest. A satisfied rumble vibrated against your face, and he tugged you out from that hiding spot, lifting your chin to kiss at the splotchy skin, licking away the tears.

You felt as though you were carrying this great burden but to name it, to put your voice to it, would destroy you.  But that was the point, wasn’t it? He wanted to obliterate you so that he could rebuild you from the detritus.

You forced your lungs to inhale and exhale, focusing on your white knuckles and trying to formulate how to ask for something so simple as a beating and so complex as the complete wreckage of who you were as a person.

“Y-you,” your voice broke, and it felt like you’d swallowed glass, “You s-said that you would drown me and ma-make me bleed and listen to me scream.”

He purred and rubbed his mouth into your quick heartbeat, murmuring agreement, sucking coppery flakes from your skin, and turning your insides to liquid. Large fingers slithered up into your hair and tipped your head back, baring more real estate for his exploration.

“And you sa-said,” you whined as he nipped at your shoulder, “Fuck!”

You stopped, your brow knit tight because the weak stuttering was making you angry. You drew in a deliberate breath, low and long, and carried on through closed eyes. 

“You said that,” you took another slow breath, “You would fuck me until I couldn’t remember my name.”

You faltered, unsure you could say it. You wanted this man to take everything from you, but you weren’t sure you could give it to him willingly.

He was hovering, you could feel it; he was waiting for your next words to strike. Placating fingers were curling to tangle at the back of your neck, and his lips danced over your pulse, but his whole body was tense, barely containing the tempest within. 

You were going to break the barricade with whatever you said next, and it was a powerful, palpable thing, rising up just under your skin and rubbing against your insides.

“I…” you conjured the face of the woman in the mirror, “I want that.”

Ren’s mouth stretched wide over the curve of your throat, and he sunk his teeth down into the tender skin on such a loud growl your cry was lost. Both of his large hands clenched to fists, one in your hair and one in your shirt.

You had endured his punitive bite before, four times.  Each time, he had only taken from you and left behind pretty emptiness in the wake of his mouth. This bite, this terrible assault on your flesh, was a wholly different act, and you quaked with perverse delight.

“Kylo,” you sobbed. “Please…”

The abject plea in your voice drew his jaws wider apart.  You felt the lathe of his tongue just before he pressed his palm into the wall for support.  Wrapping his arm tight around your middle, he sunk back onto that horrible, irresistible spot and attacked with such fervor that you screamed.

He tugged and chewed and wrenched until your pitiable skin finally broke for him, proffering a fresh sanguine wave into his mouth. He groaned into you, shaking and clawing until you both were blood drunk, fuzzy and spinning.

This wasn’t punishment.  This was claiming, a grisly branding; and when he lifted his lips away, you felt the throb of his imprint upon you and knew he would never let that mark fade. It was the only type of gift he could give you, barbaric and raging.

You were delirious, limp in his arms with your head resting against the mirror, flying in the vortex of suffering and sex he brought with him each and every time.

“Mine.” He rubbed his nose through the trickle coloring your collarbone. 

Weakly, your hands lifted to his hips, fingers cinching in at the waist. You pushed away from the mirror and opened your eyes. Collecting bit after bit of strength, you arched up into him, leaning into the maelstrom rather than hiding from it.

You had to show him.  You had to prove that you could, you would, survive him every time.

Bloody fingers captured your face, and he devoured your mouth with insistent kisses, sharing the taste of your very cells until you writhed and moaned. Daringly, you bit at his lower lip, wanting to taste his claret offering in return, and he dug fingers into your spine on a grunt.

Ren tore himself from you suddenly, and you blinked, dazed and slow.  He yanked you from the little sink and spun you to face the mirror, yourself, once more.  Instructing you to hold onto the corners, he tore at the clothing keeping you from him.

It was no longer than a moment, and he was behind you, pushing between your legs and invading the most intimate cavern of your body on one painful push. He forced you onto your toes with his sheer size, and you cried out from the stretch and fullness of it.

“Look!”

He nearly shouted it, already lost to the hot suction of your cunt and pounding into it with such force your hips slammed into the metal edge. He wrapped his demanding hand around your neck again, right beneath the jaw, and tipped your head just as your eyes cracked open.

You gaped at him. He was unhinged, completely consumed by desire and burning incandescent.  Every thrust of his wide hips was frenzied, and he curved his whole body around you as though to ensure you would never escape.

But you…

You had become the perfect container for his combustion, enduring his need to consume the very planets and stars and offering up your body, your life, your everything to satisfy his limitless demands.  

Your lips were parted and plush, your bright red tongue smearing brown flakes to pink stains with each appearance. Your eyes shone like moons, a constant gloss covering the color from tears he effortlessly called forth. Your body rocked and bowed and undulated for him, a superb cradle for his lusty wrath.

“One more, puppet,” his craving thrusts subsided for just a breath.  It wasn’t a warning; it was permission.

Pushing your head to one side, he bared the side of your throat that was empty of him and sunk down into the skin ferociously, his jaws clamping down so quick and so tight you saw stars. 

It was immediate, the iron-like trap of his bite shooting you into blinding orgasm, overwhelming your every sense until there was only him and the bloody collar he was cinching about your neck.

You howled and sobbed and thrashed against him, your body unable to withstand such a buffeting in stillness.  Your fingers scratched, your cunt spasmed and clenched, and your hips pushed back into him, wanting more and more and more.

He moaned against you, breaking the skin again, and pushed his throbbing cock far into you so he could feel your fight all over. The tremor wracking you was unrelenting, and your core clamped down almost unbearably tight, beckoning him into bliss.

Releasing his hold on your battered throat, he clutched at your hips and pressed his forehead into your shoulder. A loud series of shameless, obscene moans dropped from his lush lips, and he rewarded you with deep, deep strokes, as though he could push himself so far into you that you’d leak his DNA with every step you took for the rest of your life.

Spent, his barrage eased, and you slumped forward, trying to prop your hands onto the mirror and wall but failing.  You were sapped of all strength and wrung dry of emotion. 

Ren had wrecked you, just as you’d asked.

His hard hands turned gentle, and he pushed down on your back to keep you against the sink and upright while he adjusted his clothes. Benumbed, you were unable to assist in any way as he lifted and turned your torso so he could carry you.

In your fog, you thought you heard him praising you, murmuring into your ear that you were beautiful and perfect. You wrapped your fingers into something soft and tried to open your eyes, but your body won out over your desire to stay here with him.

Broken, sated, unabashedly liberated, you sunk down into oblivion.