#the book Spineless has a lovely cover

[not-poignant]

Hello Pia! You’ve probably been asked this before, but since I’m late to this specific party and don’t know how to find the answer I’m just going to go ahead and ask again: Are the books Arden recommends to Efnisien made up or do they exist? I want the book on queer nature but could only find a poetry book with that title. 😅

It's really just a mix, anon!

The book on jellyfish with the hot pink and royal blue cover? That exists. I can't remember the title, but there's not that many books on jellyfish and you should be able to find it. Okay no I'll stand up and go look at my bookshelf because I own that one, hang on... it's Spineless by Juli Berwald. The book on Game Theory and Animal Behaviour was real, which made me laugh.

The book on queer nature doesn't exist from memory, I wanted to invent a book that had a spine of the colour I wanted so I did. The book Pastel Shibari Dreams doesn't exist (which I say in the author's note), but the book on Leading and Supporting Love is real (which I say in the author's note).

Unfortunately I can't tell you which of the others are real or not because I write the word book nearly 800 times in that story and a ctrl+F is going to hurt my clicker finger going through all of those, lol, and I didn't keep a list of the titles that were real and the ones that weren't. Needless to say it's just a mix. (The tl;dr is I'm too lazy to click 800 times to check how many other books I mention - I think the planet one about the moons of wherever I also invented so I could make my Ganymede joke).

There are books on queerness in nature though, but I can't remember any off the top of my head. There were just none that were doing exactly what I wanted. The story really is a mix of 'I'm making this one up' and 'I own this one' and 'I need a very specific book spine cover and most photos of books don't show the colour of the spine so I have to invent a book' slakjfsa :D

[irulaan]

HOW FAR IT CAN BEND | REGULUS BLACK

— the way he loves was tainted since he was a child. it didn’t help that he always, subconsciously, desired everything his older brother could put a hand on.

nav | regulus’ mlist

✧ PAIRING. regulus black x fem!reader

✧ WORD COUNT. 1.8k

✧ WARNINGS. low self esteem. mm slightly sirius black x reader. english isn’t my first language

You have been around them for a while, you knew them but never had a word with any of  the four boys. Lily Evans, a fierce girl, whose personality and intelligence was paired with ginger hair and bright viridian eyes, had a few words with you, at a potion class. And her  good nature ignored the fact you were usually linked to a pure blood fanatic, Regulus Black. 

On said occasion, her words kept slipping through her mouth—she was surprised by your kindness and the way you’ve carried a light conversation about the day’s topic, since she expected you to be a complete asshole. She believed you could be a good friend, a good partner at class—as your intellect matched her own. Over the following weeks, she kept looking for you to start banal conversations, about classes, about anything. It was about time to meet her friends.

Three of them had a study meeting with Lily Evans, and they adored the girl, they won’t say no. “I think she’s Regulus' girlfriend?” James has said, when yours and Lily's blooming friendship became a topic. 

Sirius snorted, “Pff, that spineless idiot could never have a girlfriend. Haven’t I told you he's as cold as my progenitors? The only way he’s getting to that point is if they arrange something” He was unusually so bittersweet about his brother’s affairs. Since he stopped caring a long time ago. 

James smiled at his behavior, laid his books down on the table. And sat across Sirius and Remus. “We just saw them” 

“Maybe she pity him?” He earned a round of laughs. Remus had shocked his head, covering his eyes with a large hard at Sirius’ nonsense. 

“Yeah, most likely” James mocked him.

Remus eyes’ caught his ginger friend arm in arm with her new friend, you. “Speaking of the devil…” He said, warning his friends. 

They liked you in a beat. Sirius' first impression was that you were a complete opposite to his younger brother. You laughed at their lighthearted jokes and had a focused expression while they explained some of their pranks. It was nice and refreshing to have you around, it wasn’t always, but it was often enough to have a sense of proximity. A belief and a feeling you were a friend to all of them. Your first impression of Sirius was meh—nothing less, nothing more than you expected. He had the most charming personality, an ounce of his attention was enough to make you feel like a radiant sun—a fake one tho. You knew his ways with girls, how they would fall to his feet with a smirk and a mischievous grin. Your confused feelings constantly met a wall when you saw his interactions with a potential love interest, even if it’d last a few weeks—days even. 

Regulus Black had collected the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend on a sunny, fresh spring morning — just a month before summer holidays. It was a question you have been expecting since you realized your romantic feelings for him, months ago. It was easy since he let you into his softe, most vulnerable side. Where you learned about his terrors and insecurities. Where you learned his need for reassurance —that you like him, that you love him— has its roots in his abused childhood, where his parents deprived him of pure and sincere affection, only praising him when he did things Walburga and Orion thought were correct. His way of understanding of love was tainted by his emotional baggage—it was something you thought you could work on together.

Four Gryffindor boys saw you both hand in hand, kissing in public. You didn’t see them, as your eyes could only lay on the boy staring lovingly at you. You were both in love. That love you crave and envy when you’re young and wild, a love seemingly pure and sincere at the surface, one that couldn’t be marred by anything or anyone, but one that was cursed by the first shared glance. You'd have to scavenge a bit to find its rotting foundations. That day Lily Evans and her kind self gave you a cold shoulder unmatched by the concern and guilt in her eyes. They boys didn’t acknowledge your presence. It lasted—and continued for a week, until you couldn’t bear with it.

You were glad you found the group hanging in the common room. Your presence was noticed at first by James, who tried to escape when his eyes met yours, Lily held his hand, keeping  him in his place.

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Sirius received a whiplash when he turned when he heard your voice. Now, all of them stared at you. “Like if i made a mistake i would want to apologize, but i don’t know what i did” Your distressed tone and how your voice broke were enough to make the older Black brother feel a pang of guilt. Like a stab at his heart by his own hand. Because it doesn’t matter how hurt he was when he saw you and Regulus’ holding hands—it didn’t matter because now he had hurt you, by isolating you from them, your friends. Thinking you did something wrong. 

The sand-like haired boy shared a quick look with Sirius, as saying you, and only you can fix this. It was his responsibility. “It’s okay, i’ll explain to her” He had said and the rest of them flew out of the room in a blink. 

Now alone, he had focused on your red rimmed eyes, on how you bite the insides of your mouth. “I’m sorry”

You let out a humorless laugh, “What does that mean?”

His breath faltered, “I shouldn’t have done this—I was angry I guess” You nodded, confused. “I don’t know how to say this, huh” 

To catch Sirius Black struggling to find some words was a spectacle—nor of you enjoying it. It fueled your anxiety and desires to run back to Regulus’ soft gaze, the one he gave you when you told him you were going to fix whatever you’ve done. Maybe it was a mistake, maybe you should have let the time work it out for you. 

“Sirius, you’re scaring me, please,” You tilted your head, getting close to him. It destroyed him—your fucking worried eyes. 

“I liked you, and you ran to my brother’s arms!” His tone was harsh, and he crossed his arms in his chest when you shot him a confused look. Like a spoiled child, who wants something he can’t have.

“So you decided to not talk to me again, without saying anything?” He couldn’t utter a word, he felt dizzy, even. He couldn’t understand how he was in that situation. “You know, I liked you too, for a while, but I knew if I told you, you’d have broken my heart. That’s who you are” 

He breathed in, appearing trapped. “It was different with you!”

“How—how was it different? —No, you know what, save it. I didn’t deserve any  this” You pointed furiously your index finger in his direction. 

He bit his lip. He would rather see you angry than put up with your understanding side. He hurted you, and maybe he didn’t deserve to be forgiven, for now. “Sorry, it's not gonna happen again. Don’t know what else I can do” 

So he didn’t do anything.

Summer came over, distancing you from them. You tried to close the wound, because they never apologized, and Sirius did a terrible job at it. But it didn’t matter anymore, because  you probably won’t see them again. They graduated and you’ve heard James and Lily were trying to have a baby—feeling the need to leave something behind. You were afraid to reach for them, to send a letter congratulating them, to know what they’d do now. You missed Lily and developed a hate for Regulus’ older brother and his poor emotion management. A feel that grew everyday like an undergrowth, one you watered with self doubt.

“I knew he liked you,” Regulus’ had confessed some time after. “He stared at you as if you were a piece of meat. Another girl he can ruin and then left” 

You wouldn’t have suspected anything if his eyes wouldn’t give him away  — he felt guilty.

Your breath wavered at the realization, and Regulus knew. “You’re cruel, I’ve been in love with you for months and you only asked me to be your girlfriend because you saw Sirius as a threat?” Your voice was delicate, slow but unsteady, as your own insecurities jeopardize your calm.

Regulus had shook his head rapidly, with a mind ridden by guilt. “I felt the same, I was just scare you didn’t want me that way—He just made me realize I had so save you” 

You snorted. “Pff, Save me?” 

His head gave up, hanging low, avoiding your eyes. “I’m sorry I was wrong, please don’t be angry at me” He begged in a low tone, barely audible. But it was sincere and ras.

“I’m not—“

“—Nor disappointed” You smiled. It was real Regulus. It was Regulus’ realizing his decayed stability. And you had promised you'd go through this. 

Warm hands greeted his cold, sharp cheeks. Held his head and mind—quite literally. “I’m not, Reggie,” It was heaven, as your thumbs traced his cheekbones. “I’m just sad, you needed — you waited until someone gave me attention to act. You wouldn’t have said anything…” In such a short time your self deprecating ruminations had leaked through your conscious mind. But you won’t unfold your heart in this situation. 

His head lingered near your shoulder, craving more of your touch, but so afraid to ask for more than he thought he deserved. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, can you forgive me?” He kept apologizing, not raising his voice. 

You push his head up. You hadn’t expected to find tears at the edge of his silver eyes. “You’re forgiven, just don’t do that again, please” Like a caged animal set free, his arms snaked around your torso, flushing you against him. But it wasn’t enough—he craved more. 

Shoving his nose into your shoulder, Regulus had tried to remember your scent. To have it forever stuck in his mind. “I’ll try. I’ll do anything” A short silence filled your ears. “Do—do you still love me?” He muffled against the upper side of your left collarbone. 

You placed a short, tender kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Reggie” A promise, it was a promise. All you could do was give, give everything to him.

Foundations putrid and all, when pieces fell, they’d remain together glued by the sweet but dangerous desire of being needed and to need each other. Glued by three-word promises. 

COMMENTS, LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED i will literally give you forehead kisses if you support me <3

[annikin-annotates]

Family Ties Part 2

Hi hello my loves! I'm back with another installment of Family Ties, I hope you enjoy it! But before you continue I would like to take a second to thank everyone who has commented and reblogged, it really brightens my day!

TW: Suicidal ideations, Tav languishing like a Victorian era widow, Astarion being an asshole (again), Ascendant Astarion.

Word Count: 2.7K

The silver moonlight streamed into her chambers as she sat perched at her paper covered  desk, hands covered in charcoal stains. She had been sketching long enough for the candles around her to burn down twice over, one of her husband's ever dutiful spawn were always quick to come and replace them. 

She pulled herself from the trance she had entered to look over the sketches she had produced. She had excelled with art when she was human, and now that she was immortal, she never had to worry about dying before her next muse would come to her. Her muse had been the same for over twenty years now, Juniper.

Each sketch was different in some way, some had Astarions curls and angular face while some had the softness of her cheeks and her smile - what she could remember of it, anyway. The thought tugged painfully at her heart, she couldn’t even remember her own face, much like her lover all those years ago. Though one defining feature remained the same, a patch of silvery white hair nestled in her dark curls.

Would she even recognise her daughter?

Sometimes in the quiet of the night she would find herself with too many thoughts and not enough to keep her occupied. She didn’t want to think, she didn’t want to feel anymore, she had far too much time to do those things - she just wanted peace. But when she drew her sunlight, it all seemed to melt away, for a time there was no anger or anguish, just calmness. 

Peace only came in the form of her daughter, as there was not a day that went by where she did not think about Juniper. About the type of person she grew into, was she all the best parts of them? Was she cunning and kind, did she have her determination and Astarion’s sharp wit?

Or did she grow into her namesake, would she wreak death, destruction and chaos just like her father. Even if she did become the embodiment of death and shadows, who would dare blame her? What chance did she have when she was an unholy amalgamation of a Vampire Demi-God and a Hellspawn? It would only solidify her name in the history books, the daughter of a tyrant and a spineless hero. 

Missing her made her wonder if Juniper missed her too, if she ever yearned for a mother that she never knew. Or if she wondered if her mother didn’t love her, why her mothers hands never picked her up when she fell, kissing her wounds better, or why she was never carried to bed. She hoped that Juniper didn’t think she just passed her onto the first person who would care for her - the thought made her heart ache, she did this because she loved her. She loved her more than she could put into words, she loved her daughter like she loved the ghosts of her past. 

Like she loved him. 

There was some part of her, buried deep down that regrets giving her to Wyll; if she hadn’t perhaps she wouldn’t feel so lonely. She forced the thought down. Juniper was an innocent who didn’t deserve to suffer at the hands of a cruel father and a mother who could not offer her the love and protection that she needed. 

Wherever her sunlight ended up was a much better life than the one she would have had with her, and she deserved that much. She hoped that Juniper grew up knowing only joy and laughter, that her life was a never ending stream of sweetness. She liked to imagine that Wyll had taken her to a grove, far away from civilisation - away from the vampire ascendant's influence.  

A place overflowing with greenery and wild flowers, where the sun always shone and birdsong roused her from her sleep each morning. Where she never had to worry about the dangers that lingered in the shadows, nor the pull of power and all that it promised. Juniper would not repeat the sins of her father.

She remembered the terror she had felt when Astarion had pieced together the reason for Juniper’s disappearance. It hadn’t taken him long, a week at most, but she will always remember the cold sweat that broke out over her body when he opened the doors to their shared chambers, accusations spilling from his lips like poison. 

“You’re the reason for Maitenirr’s disappearance,” it was a declaration, it wouldn’t matter what she said to him, regardless of it being true or not, he had made his decision - she was guilty.

There were two options before her, she could lie and try to placate him with whispered praises and sweet nothings. Or she could tell the truth and suffer the consequences of her actions, it did not matter what happened to her - her child was safe. That’s what mattered. 

Her silence had only proven her guilt in Astarion’s eyes, and he closed the door behind himself, locking it. Her teeth ground against one another, her body screaming for her to run; every fibre was alight with fear, and yet she remained rooted to where she sat on the chaise. “Astarion please, I loved her. How could you think that of me?” she asked, tears beginning to brim her crimson eyes; she didn’t know if they were from fear or sadness. 

“Do you take me for a fool?” he asked, brows raised in query - a challenge. 

He strode towards her, stopping a few feet from her his arms behind his back, as if he was holding himself back. "I ask again, Tav; who did you give our daughter to?" He asked, voice cold and sharp like a blade, a familiar tingle prickled the back of her neck - he was charming her, compelling her to tell him what happened. 

She tried to fight it, to struggle against the heavy chains that wrapped around her mind; it made her shy away from him and bile rise in her throat, she couldn't fight it. She dropped from the chaise to her knees as the feeling lapped at the edges of her mind as he tried to force the truth from her. Gods why couldn't she fight it? Why wasn't she stronger? It came tumbling out of her all at once "Wyll!! I gave her to Wyll!" She cried, chest heaving as he rescinded the charm.

"There we go, that's a good girl, let it all out,” he cooed. She looked up at him, eyes blurry from the tears, she could feel him smirking down at her, bastard. Astarion crouched before her, snatching her face with his hand, the softness of her cheeks dimpling in his hold. “I will teach you what it means to obey, I will not forget this,” he spat. 

“You are lucky I love you. I have sent spawn into the sunlight for less,” he hissed, letting go of her face. Astarion was right, he had been crueller for far less - she was thankful for his mercy, but this was not love; not anymore. This was something far darker, an inkblot spreading across paper, tainting everything it touched, possession. 

Astarion stood once more, brushing himself off - as if touching her had made him dirty in some way; her stale blood simmered in her veins. “No matter, I can always sire another,” he said flippantly, though she could tell that the conversation was far from over, his tone betrayed by the darkness that his eyes held. 

Rage floods her, how could he say that? How could he carelessly disregard the child that he helped bring into the world - that he made her bring into the world. The anger that had been quietly simmering under her skin for two decades ignited, a small spark that had become something biblical. She could kill him; she was going to kill him, if it was the last thing she did.

She couldn’t stop herself. “You wouldn’t dare,” she spat, standing abruptly from the plush carpet of their shared chambers. Her eyes were alight with all the fury of a woman scorned, of a spurned lover - a threatened animal backed into a corner; of a mother. 

“You do not get a choice in the matter,” he said matter-of-factly as he examined his finger nails, as if the fight was already won, as if there was never really a fight to be fought to begin with. And she supposed there wasn’t; arguing with him would only prolong the inevitable and prolonging the inevitable only ever turned out terribly.   

But she argued anyway, for the sake of her and her daughter’s dignity. Or perhaps he would get frustrated enough to kill her himself - gods know how many times she’s thought about walking into the sunlight just to escape him, to escape this. “How dare you speak about our daughter like that!” she hissed, her whole body was coiled like a viper ready to strike. “She was all that was good in the world, and you disregard her like she is nothing!” she continued, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. 

Rage flashed in his eyes as a viscous smile tugged at his lips  “It would do you well to remember what happens to people who overstep their station. You may be Consort, but you still answer to me,” he replied, his voice chilling her to the bone. “She is nothing, merely a complication to the larger plan, I have eternity to create another,” he was threatening her now, to see how eager she was to bite the hand that feeds.

She was more eager than most.

“Are we resorting to threats now, Astarion?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest as she stood, her velvet dress sleeves catching slightly as she did so. She could feel herself trembling but she was steadfast in her stance; she would not bow to him, not this time, not when he speaks of her daughter. 

He chuckled darkly, closing the space between them, his thumb and forefinger tilting her chin; he was inches from her face, “It was a promise.” A chill danced down her spine as he pulled away, smoothing out his doublet before continuing as if nothing ever happened. “We will discuss this later, I have a dinner to plan. You are not to leave this room until I call for you.” 

She grimaced at the unspoken connotation of the statement, both an order and an omen. 

—

Fear. Fear and loathing. 

It wasn’t enough for Astarion to take the stab, but he had to twist the proverbial knife and then salt the wound when he was done. By bringing Wyll into The Crimson Palace, he has not only spat in her face, but opened Wyll up to immense danger, which he no doubt knew and was most likely the purpose of doing so. And while she did not doubt the Blade of Frontiers, he wasn’t a Warlock anymore; he was an ageing mortal man. 

A mortal man in a den of vipers.

Once again, she had nobody to blame but herself. She scoffed, just more innocent blood on her hands she supposed - gods she was tired of this. Tired of the fighting, the clawing and biting and clinging, clinging to the shell of a man who sat at the head of the table, clinging to the idea that there was still good in him. That there was still a man capable of kindness. She closed her eyes - Astarion wasn’t capable of anything but brutality, just like his predecessor. And all it took was a spark to light the flame.

Her heart began to thrum in her chest, starting a new painful rhythm as it slammed in her rib cage, bruising her lungs. The evening had begun rather calmly, it almost felt like a dinner party between friends, but it had been so much more than that. No matter how well Wyll had hid his weariness beneath that charming diplomatic mask of his, she could smell the fear, and there was no doubt that Astarion could too. 

They were completely and utterly fucked, to say the least. All she could try to do was keep the peace, and if he was to strike someone - she hoped it was her. After years being subject to his ever changing moods, she knew that she could take it; she hoped for one night that Wyll would set down his chivalry and just survive this dinner. But Astarion wasn’t going to make this easy for either of them; he would push boundaries and prod sore spots, like he always has. 

She wasn’t entirely sure how it escalated to this, Astarion had slammed his fist on the sturdy mahogany table, rattling the silverware and crockery as she mindlessly pushed the food in front of her around the plate. She had jumped at the sudden noise, her brain and body reconnecting once more. “If I wanted a child at the dinner table, I would have requested our daughter,” he hissed, that vicious glint in his eyes catching the candle light. 

She gritted her teeth, knowing better than to rise to his provocation, “My apologies, my love. I was leagues away,” she replied, clearing her throat and reaching for the glass of wine before her. Her eyes caught Wyll’s gaze; he had, for the most part, aged quite gracefully. His braided hair was speckled with grey, he had crows feet and laughter lines, it made her happy that at least one of her companions had gone off to lead a happy life. 

That was all it took for the spark to catch, like a match to turpentine, viciously clawing at anything in its way. His eyes flicking between the both of them, “Clear the room,” he ordered, watching as the spawn who were lingering in the shadows filtered out of the room. She shifted, readying to leave her seat as Astarions gaze snapped to her. “Not you,” his charm forcing her back into her seat. 

Fear licked at the base of her spine; she knew what was coming, deep down she knew all along. This was either going to end in spilled blood or with her giving into his whims once again, she would not have Wyll’s blood stain her hands nor conscience. He stood from his seat at the head of the table; she cringed as it scraped across the marble floor, the sound reverberating off the walls. Astarion always knew how to hold people’s attention.

He raised his glass to the both of them, a smirk toying at the edges of his lips, as if there was a joke that the two of them weren’t privy to. Perhaps that was the joke, maybe he would kill them both, drain their blood and leave them to rot in the dungeons with the rest of the corpses; simple and painless, all she would have to do is let go. Then, as he began to speak, it dawned on her that her death was going to be anything but simple, or painless. No, he intended to take her from this world, kicking and screaming. 

“Tonight I have chosen to surround myself with the finest company in all of Baldur’s Gate,” he began, tipping his glass to both of them. Her fingers gripped the arms of her chair, knuckles turning white as she looked towards Wyll, who was sitting ramrod straight in his seat. “I would like to congratulate my Darling Dark Consort for being a truly duplicitous woman. You put even me to shame,” he grinned, wanting to take his time indulging in his theatrics. 

“And to you, my dear travelling companion, for playing your part in her plan so faithfully. Let us drink to your best laid schemes,” he finished, raising his glass. Astarion’s eyes narrowed as neither of them moved. “I said; drink,” he repeated, as both their bodies began moving of their own accord. The wine burned her throat as she took one gulp, and then another before draining her glass entirely, she watched Wyll do the same, grimacing as he set the glass down on the table.

The silence between the three of them was deafening, punctuated only by the gaudy grandfather clock ticking in the parlour across the hall. What exactly did Astarion want from them? He already had her admission of guilt and proof of Wyll’s assistance. She closed her eyes and sighed softly, stomach twisting at the realisation; he planned to interrogate Wyll, to glean information on the whereabouts of her daughter. 

Halsin, Juniper was with Halsin. 

----

Thank you for reading! Please take a moment to comment or reblog my work, it brightens my day and makes sure other people see it!

Beta read by the lovely: @arcielee and @amiraisgoingthruit

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

Honestly, I don't think any of this was cruel to Wang Ruofu.

First, she backed her sister when she stuffed a concubine into Minglan's house in a clear attempt to shit all over her marriage. Then she poisoned Granny Sheng when she rightfully punished her for it. She deserved both her punishments. In fact, they didn't go far enough, IMO.

***

I cannot anymore with this fucking woman 🙄

Who gives a fuck who gave birth to him? That is his GRANDMOTHER. Whom you tried to POISON. Also, he is a government official, and a moral and sensible man. Him covering up for your crimes would have been a failure on all fronts.

***

No.

Your best hope is that Granny will not live longer than ten more years since she is already quite old. And if she does, that she will have moved over to Minglan's house by then, so that she doesn't have to look at your stupid face every day.

***

And after all this, she still continues to be driven by grudges and resentment.

Of course he will have no love for you. Of course he will try to get some recourse for his dead mother. It's no wonder that none of the illegitimate kids love you because how have you treated them? Certainly not well. You may not have sold them into slavery the way your sister did with the kids in her home, but if it had been up to you, all three of them would have died of neglect and you would not have cared. Changfeng and Molan luckily had their real mother with them until they were grown, and Minglan had Granny. You deserve nothing from any of them.

***

I AM ANNOYED BY YOU!

DOES THAT COUNT? YOU ARE STARTING TO GET ON MY VERY LAST NERVE.

My guy, you cannot force trust and intimacy and yelling at her about it is not helping your case!

I find him so pointless as a male lead. He has not done a single plot-relevant thing since he married Minglan. He just whines and whines about how he's not getting enough attention from her while she goes out and about, making new friends and solving Imperial marriage problems. In this last arc, he just swooped in at the very end to take credit where none is due because of course, the writers couldn't have had Minglan resolve the situation, no, Mr. Feng Shaofeng had to have a place in the spotlight too. After everything she did, right at the end, they made her so bumbling and helpless, so that he could swoop in to rescue her. I'm beyond pissed.

***

LMAO, imagine bringing up Wang Ruofu as a role model for anything.

Shut up, shut up, shut up. This drama was miles and miles better without you looking for trouble where there is none.

***

I am on her side here.

I'm super aroace, though, and I can't stand whiny, needy men encroaching on my space and time, demanding more than I am willing (or able) to give. Seriously, fuck off.

***

LMFAO

Minglan did him the biggest favour.

***

Wait a minute.

Doesn't that make Old Master Kang her grandfather??

Gross.

***

What you don't know and don't want to know not only about your daughter but about your entire family, could fill not just a book, but an entire library.

And she is like this because you are worthless and spineless.

***

LMAO, she read him to filth 🤣🤣

I love her so much! Definitely one of my favourite heroines, if not THE favourite right now!

***

Pathetic.

***

Wait. Her??

Didn't Sheng Hong get rid of all of them?

Also, what happened to her leg? Did she also get caned or tortured or something?

Terrible fate, she had such a comfy life with Concubine Lin for so many years and now she has to do hard labour with no hope for things improving.

***

LMAO, so what?

It's not you who has served three Emperors and it's not your memorial tablet being worshipped in the Imperial ancestral hall.

***

LMAO, that's right Minglan, put them on the spot!

They want you to do their dirty work for them.

***

LMAO, of course, let's change the topic quickly, now that the spotlight is on them.

***

Ah, so all of them are slaves, after all.

MInglan gave her the greatest gift. Her freedom to live as a free citizen. I hope she does the same for the rest of them, if she hasn't already.

[bhuerracus]

My GW2 Main OC: Luphom

i realized i haven't posted my gw2 oc / toon yet. her name is Luphom! i was going to draw her for this post but drawing armor is so hard, but i promise ill give you a drawing later with a more accurate physical appearance. she's my main character and is a bit of a self-insert, not 100% of course but still be kind. i do have other OCs i am working on but they need more time in the oven.

also, i still have to complete the story, so all of this is before she becomes the Commander. i have to think if i want the GW2 story to be canon to her storyline. so far im thinking no, but we'll see. im kind of new to this sort of thing so im still getting used to fan fiction, OCs, RP etc. in general. so, if i am missing some CWs, tags, etc. please let me know!! i do not wish to make anyone see something they do not want to see.

with that out of the way click the "Read more" to learn more about her!

Content Warnings: tragic backstory (bullying, CPTSD (neglect and abuse), no specific details are given beyond what i just said), redemption.

name: Luphom

age: old

basic personality: the fun grandma who would give the grandkids cookies even when the parents beg for her not to do so. tries to be nice to everyone. angers and gets mean quickly when she feels wronged, but she's working on it. big "HIS PRONOUNS ARE THEY/THEM!!!!" energy, she does her best. will be the first to defend anyone she feels is being wronged, the first to notice when someone is trying to say something but can't get a word in, and interrupts everyone to let them speak.

physical appearance: a white and grey Charr. fat! has lots of tufts of fur on her face. fuzzy. totally covered in scars, some missing teeth.

gender: transgender woman, transitioned late into her life after repressing it for a very long time.

sexuality: says she's heterosexual, loves big strong men, but also, she is one big strong woman away from finding out she's bisexual.

basic backstory: after childhood neglect and abuse at the hands of her birth family, and then bullying in the fahrar, she found the one thing that gave her the positive attention and affection she craved and stopped the abuse: power.

she learned to be mean and brutal, and trained constantly so that no one would treat her poorly and give her respect. it worked. she was a force to be reckoned with.

however, as an adult, when this was no longer necessary and she could stop pretending to be a Cold and Cruel Badass, she realized the people she was surrounded with were all just as cruel as she was, but they weren't pretending.

she felt trapped, having to choose between being lonely, or being someone she was never meant to be. it took years, and as she slowly began to return to the kinder, softer person her childhood self was, the bullying began again, this time as an adult and from her friends and peers who looked down on her "new" "weakness". to them, she slowly became a completely different person. a spineless coward.

after self-reflection, a couple of hard choices, A Life-Changing Experience, and then finally the realization that she is a woman and always wanted to be but was never allowed to, she threw away her skills as a Warrior, her warband, and her past achievements on the battlefield to be happy and become her true self: a lady who loves to dress up, spoil loved ones, and get silly with it.

she is currently a Ranger who is looking to learn about all the animals that exist on Tyria.

likes: talking and chatting, puzzles, cooking, Snargle Goldclaw books, animals (especially ones she feels are mistreated like bugs), changing outfits weekly, bird-watching, giving affection, spoiling people silly, flirting (but will explode if you flirt back), art, being kind to those she sees no one else is kind to

dislikes: being ignored and ignoring others, reading, bigotry of any kind, arguing, the constant nightmares which haunt her every waking moment, boiled vegetables

[pizza-hats-of-the-world-1882]

Caderousse and Albert for the character bingo? :3c

hello comc and drawfee mutual!

ok im ab to say smth that may not make sense if you didnt follow one of my quests [the comc 19th cen. fanfic quest (i read a couple of comc fan sequels from the 19th cen. {they werent very good})] and in these fan sequels he is criminally underutilized!!!! bc he ends the real book when he is BEGINNING a character arc! he is on a quest to restore his family honor and make a new life! and i think the book ended at a good spot im not saying it should have followed him further but! if! you are writing a fan sequel, hes the only one who has an actual trajectory[spelling?] to follow and they! do! nothing! with him!

i love how we are introduced to him as like. a frat boy/spoiled rich kid and slowly it is revealed he has like actually many good qualities. this frat boy has a moral backbone! that doesnt always line up w what is socially expected of him like in the duel! or even what i expect of him like when he first finds out ab his dad's war crimes and he decides to cover it up but is also absolutely devasted i cant articulate it but that was a really interesting moment for me

i had an answer to this one but now i cant explain it. he really is just a silly guy! hes not interesting bc of any hidden issues to brood over or his dynamic w the count, hes interestong bc hes a rich frat boy who apparently has moral integrity!

and by fans i mean the aforementioned 19th cen fic writers and also some adaptations. i never think ab how much i love albert until i am deprived of him then i start screaming for him to get more screentime.

i think he would enjoy being a purse dog

when my mom was reading comc and she was fairly early into it she said "i hope they dont have albert and haydee have a ~thing~ going on just to cause drama" which i must say is a thought that absolutely never would have occured. to me.

hes just a silly lil guy!

and now caderousse:

i just like it when charcters have a signature accessory. the red kerchief is a look!

i like how different he is from the rest of the haterz clubtm. bc he straight up didnt want to do that! he just wanted to complain and drink! but danglars and fernand went wild w it. he even wanted to come forward afterward but danglars threatened him! i just think its neat that everyone else in the haterz clubtm seal their fate here except caderousse, who gets locked into the vengeance much later when he kills that jeweler*. edmond was straight up going to forgive him/give him a second chance and massive diamond for providing exposition. gaspard you fumbled the bag!

i get why he tends to be cut, hes not as integral or dramatic a part of the vengeange as the rest of the haterz clubtm but if you dont have ONE then whats even the point

idk im just kinda curious ab him. especially his past w benedetto!

*or maybe didnt kill that jeweler i love how ambiguous it is on who killed who in that scene very interesting [and also i love how the intro sets up what each of the haterz clubtm's fatal flaw will be, and caderousse is greedy yes, but also he is completely spineless!! if danglars says keep your mouth shut, you do it! if your wife says lets kill this guy, you do it! if benedetto says it'd be super easy to rob this place, do it! my guy, stand up please!!!! my mom said "he should be on america's dumbest criminals but for france" i cant disagree.

well yeah

the red kerchief is a look! is it a good look? who's to say...

he's a lil cringfail baby kitty cat who cant do anything right<3

[kwonzoshi]

Hi!! Top 5 couples of the year, go!

Oh gosh… how will I even choose this.. you’re killing meeeeee. I just did the bracket ranking so imma go based off that.

5.) Win x Team [Between Us (2022)]

I mean, are we surprised by this one? We love them and we love their love. We have waited so long for this and they have not disappointed. Win is such an incredibly patient partner. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t force Team to tell him things he wants to know, he just accepts him for who and what he is, no questions. He opened his heart for him, and even though it scares the shit out of him, he truly loves Team. I’m excited for the rest of their story.

4.) Vee x Mark [Love, Mechanics (2022)]

Listen, I know it’s crazy but these two snuck up on me. Vee is sincerely the most annoying, spineless, cutest, sweetest absolutely moronic fuck I have ever seen. I mean, he stood up for nothing, lost everything and somehow managed to win in the end. Mark… oh Mark. Crazy in love doesn’t even begin to cover him. He went from being head over heels for one boy to another with the flip of a switch. He was willing to be the “other man” in order to keep Vee, and that shit is so INTENSE. Like.. I thought you hated this man 1 month ago?! Their dysfunction is why I love them and why they’re in this list.

3.) Kinn x Porsche [KinnPorsche: The Series (2022)]

Dysfunction doesn’t even begin to cover this one. They were messy, crazy and so in love before they were able to admit it to each other. They’d kill for the other and die for the other just as quickly. Their whirlwind romance is really one for the books and it was enjoyable because it was so HUMAN. We got to see them navigate so many firsts with each other and I love how it was done. They have this once in a lifetime love, and it’s palpable.

2.) Pluem x Kevin [Ghost Host, Ghost House (2022)]

Soulmates. I mean, that’s all I got to say lol From the moment their eyes met you could FEEL the emotions radiating. From both of them. They fell instantly and the nerves and awkwardness just added this charm to their story. They were so into each other and they were swept away by the emotions and attraction so quickly, I got whiplash. Even so, the mature (yet heartbreaking) path was taken and they came back better than ever. Like no time had passed by at all. Their love was patient and lasting, that shit just tugs at my damn heart.

1.) Payu x Rain [Love In The Air (2022)]

Fated soulmates. Twin flames. Meant to be. Everything under the sun that can be used to describe them. From Rain’s immediate and VERY OBVIOUS “Oh!” Moment, to Payu creating a scenario for them to talk again… their love story has everything. Tension. Communication. Respect. Love. Maturity. Payu took Rain under his wing not only as a partner but as a mentor. He wanted nothing but his success and for him to better himself. Yea, he played some tricks on him but overall Payu only had Rain’s best interest in mind. This couple surprised me the most this year, in the best way.

[cadybear420]

Choices Shills: "OMG Choices is the one rare game with female MCs and female led stories, men don't you dare take this away from us, go back to your tiddy simulator games!!1!!1!

The stories in question: constantly making the (female) MCs spineless damsels, constantly having the MC being a newbie romancing someone more powerful than her/them, heavy utilization of the romance genre which is already stereotyped as "for women" enough as it is, many romantic scenes and book covers heavily utilize gender-stereotyped dynamics and behaviors, female MCs are way more sexualized than male LIs, the "sexualization" of male LIs rarely goes beyond just the generic formula of "shirtless muscular", some books like Surrender even contradict any empowering messages they could have had, there is little to no representation for any bodytype other than exaggerated hourglass supermodel, many of the stories use the trope of MC and a straw villain woman having petty catfights over a male love interest, many of the stories make the best friend character a stereotypical "omg girly girl talk exclusively about diamond outfits and LI" character, the smut writing uses so many euphemisms and purple prose that it's almost certainly patronizing and acting as if porn for women has to be more sensual, the smut writing also can't correctly describe a clit to save their lives

[cress-meadowforge]

post-interviews, january 106.

trigger warnings: drugs, violence ft. @mxhlon

"McCreary."

The word was too sharp to drip from her lips. It spat, shards of vitriol lancing the air as Mahlon paused in the doorway.

Cress was too round to hinge one leg over the other, to perch herself above, where the vantage point was better, where she could properly observe him -- small, spineless creature he was. Instead, she was seated on the end of the bed, hands behind, heels of her palms pressing into the mattress.

"Wrong room," Mahlon replied dryly, but it was there: the minute warble, the subtle tell.

"Oh, no," Cress clucked. "You're just the person I was looking for."

His eyes darted about the room, as though they might not be alone, or perhaps that she had laid a trap of some kind. And while Cress did love the theatrics of an orchestrated downfall, her rage was more direct than that now. She wanted to bloody her own hands.

"You know he didn't want to tell me where he got it from?" Cress inquired, letting Mahlon fill in the gaps of who and what. A book rested beside her, and she lifted it, smoothing her fingers across the cover. Structural Splendor: Praise for the First Fifty Arenas. But when Cress opened it, the thing was hollowed out. From within, Cress lifted a vile of morphling. "But I remembered." She offered it out, finger tapping the etching on the vile: barbed-wire, which wrapped around the top of the glass, just as it had five years ago, when he'd sold the same drugs to her. Cress had needed Slate to divulge, to know that he wasn't keeping secrets, protecting others over her, but she'd recognized the signature from the moment she'd pulled the book from the shelf.

"What d'ya want, Cress?" he asked, spine rigid. There was no remorse in the act. Not then, not now. "I didn't force him to buy anythin'. Your boy chose that on his own. Jus' like y--"

"Don't--" Cress hissed. "Don't you dare." She may have bought from Mahlon, but it hadn't been her choice to start.

"He came to me," Mahlon resumed, crossing his arms.

"And let me guess," Cress scoffed. "First one's free, right?"

"Would y' have preferred he go through the tour dry as a bone? Y'think he woulda made it through Eleven like that? Through Twelve?"

"No, which is why I tolerated it then, but it's been months. I'm due any day. He's going to be a father, and--"

"And y'think that baby's goin' to solve everythin'? Y'think you're gonna pop that brat out an' he's gonna be the person you fell in love with again?"

"No--"

"Like he didn't survive an arena? Like his district wasn't fuckin' bombed?"

"No," her tone hardened. "Mahlon--"

"Y'think that kid's gonna make him want to live? Make him get sober? Hate to break it t'ya, sweetheart, but parenthood usually has the opposite effect 'round here. Heard a lotta real sad sob stories, most of 'em about mommy an' daddy--"

"Enough," Cress seethed, pushing herself up, feeling her heart race, breathing uneven with anger. "Just because you are a miserable, unlovable son of a bitch does not mean the rest of us deserve to wallow at rock bottom with you. You want to pretend like you're helping people? Like you're selling them relief? You're poisoning them with the same drugs that ravaged your district, and -- if I've done my research correctly -- killed your mother too."

Mahlon's face flushed, his skin staining red, the rage rising hot to the surface, and his hands curled into fists.

"Shut your fuckin' mouth--"

But Cress' brows arched, that taunting look in her eyes, unrelenting. "Or what? Are you going to hit me, Mahlon?"

His jaw tensed, teeth gritted. Against every desire, he managed, "No."

Which, frankly, was something of a surprise.

"Why not? Because I'm a woman?" Cress' head tilted. There was blood in the water. There would be no stopping now. "No, that can't be it. I've seen your Games. It didn't matter one bit then, did it? And with your bare hands. Honestly, I have to commend you for that. I know Careers who would have been squeamish of what you did in there without even batting an eye." A shrug, a coy grin, perfect teeth shining in the moonlight. She stepped closer. "Is it because I'm pregnant, then? Is that the limit?"

Mahlon's frown deepened, but his silence spoke volumes. There was no answer. The absence of a response was answer enough.

"What about some motivation?" Cress offered, already swinging, the cracking thud against his jaw reverberating, a sickening sound. Was it her knuckles? His face? Cress blinked, and all she could see was Link before her, cowering, clutching her eye. Another blink, and it was Nano, flat on his back, staring up at her from the floor. Another, and it was Mahlon again. But he just stood there, his face turned slightly from the force, but otherwise unmoving, as though it hadn't even hurt.

"I was a child," Cress seethed, hitting the heart of it, the unhealed core of magma that had been congealing for years, concealed beneath. "I was a girl, and you knew--"

"First one's free," Mahlon cut her off, grabbing the fist she'd used, dragging her forward through the threshold and into the hallway. Cress fought for her arm, but it wasn't relinquished until Mahlon willed it, and when she was released, Cress stumbled into the wall. He stood in the doorway, cheek red from impact. In time, it would bruise. The air hung stale and stagnant between them, both of their chests rising and falling, hatred filling the empty space, and there was so much of it in this room.

"And then?" Cress asked, smoothing her hair, straightening.

"Then you pay," Mahlon replied plainly, slamming the door.

Cress threw the hollowed book against it, glass bottles shattering, morphling seeping between the pages and down the wood, pooling at her feet.

"Sell to him again," she promised, "and I'll kill you."

[eruscreaminginthedistance]

Book recs based on stuff I read in 2023

Nonfiction

Under the Banner of Heaven by John Krakauer (2003) - it's outdated by about 20 years which leads to one hell of a jumpscare at the end, but I'd recommend it to anyone who's interested at all in Mormonism, high control groups, FLDS, and the history of abuse against women and girls in the LDS; it covers everything you need to know about the ways the LDS church has cultivated a paedophile/domestic abuse culture and it's fucking haunting and it's the most upset a book has ever made me

Black Tudors: The Untold Story by Miranda Kaufman (2017) - a really fun read; it's a collection of case studies of the real life Africans living or working in England during the Renaissance, with each chapter focusing on a different individual and what we know about them from parish records, legal documents etc. It's also a great primer on England's relationship with the slave trade and African nations from the 16th to 17th centuries. Also I listened to this on audiobook and the lady's voice is super soothing

Problematic gay rep

Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin (1956) - yeah okay turns out Baldwin is the GOAT of queer lit for a reason. I don't even like 20th century stuff but Baldwin can WRITE man I was sucked in! And David is the BLUEPRINT of problematic gay rep! I loved watching his awful decisions I hope he suffers eternally! It's a short and easy read and a classic for a reason do give it a chance

Exquisite Corpse by Poppy Z Brite/William Martin (1996) - I'm not sure if I'm deadnaming Martin here because I bought the book earlier this year and it was still being attributed to Poppy Z Brite so I guess it's being treated like an author pseudonym now? I think? Anyway, don't read this book unless you're a disgusting freak like me who enjoys torture porn. This book comes with every content warning under the sun and I had an AMAZING couple of afternoons reading this book. American Psycho, Jeffrey Dahmer and NBC Hannibal had a baby and Martin delivered it; it's a raw, twisted and angry scream into the void about AIDS, homeless queer youth, homophobia and cultural stigma, wrapped up in a bow made of intestines. I went into this book hoping to see people get tortured and came out of it quite melancholic with a lot to think about, and I accidentally got attached to the victim oops!

The Charioteer by Mary Renault (1953) - I was gonna make a non-problematic section just for this book but then I remembered all the rampant femmephobia xD and Ralph and Laurie would 100% be bootlicking gays against pride. This book personally isn't for me - it's a lot of love triangle nonsense - but I think the tumblr demographic is particularly primed for gay World War II love triangle stories, and it's a softer, happier love story than my other recs. Would recommend if you can get past the main characters being pick mes.

Manga

No Longer Human by Junji Ito (2019) - this is a story about being a bad person and ruining everyone's lives especially your own lol; I loved the original prose version, but Ito's spin of the story makes everything so much worse and if I hadn't literally read a book about irl paedophilia the month before I think this book would have put me in the angriest and most violent place I've been all year. Love gorgeous art? Love mental illness? Love despicable spineless main characters? Get on this

Other fiction

The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco (1980) - it took me a month to read this entire book. It's so self-indulgent and long winded and contrived and the big twist is laughable and I wouldn't have it any other way! It's just some old guy playing in his sand box with his little monk action figures and it's charming af. Plus the concept of a monastic murder mystery involving several orders of monks will never not be fun, and I'm biased towards the book cos my guess at the very start as to whodunnit was right >:) would recommend if you like Sherlock Holmes and long long diatribes about medieval Catholic geopolitics

Garth Marenghi's Terrortome by Garth Marenghi (2022) - this one's just a bit of a laff. The horror comedy ramblings of a man going stir crazy during COVID lockdowns. You don't need to have seen Garth Marenghi's Darkplace to understand the book but it is recommended if you can access it. Content warning for explicit man x typewriter

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson (1962) - it's a modern day (relatively) witch story! Jackson was writing about and for all the weird autistic little girls out there with this one. It's a gothic murder mystery about two co-dependent sisters who are outcasts in their village. It was a great introduction to Jackson's work

[kcrra]

why do they keep vastly changing book canon to make rhaenyra a powerless, biteless #girlboss who has never committed a morally grey action in her life and is just an innocent little girl who lets everyone else get their hands dirty for her ???? where is the icon who brutally stabbed a boar to death and walked through a hunting party covered in blood ?!?!? where is that brutality, empowered through the credulous lens of motherhood?!??!?

it skews her entire arc in such a spineless direction and honestly greatly reminds me of how they botched daenerys' storyline by crafting the narrative for us to love her - only to instantly coin flip when it served the plot for audiences to dislike her. THE WAR BEGINS FOR A REASON: SHE IS HER OWN AGENT AND WILL DEFEND WHAT IS HERS WITH FIRE AND BLOOD. LET ME SEE IT ?!?!?!?

[yourtamaki]

the wanderer’s lodestone

dabi x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: violence, detail of injury, murder, morally grey reader, dry humping, mutual masturbation, oral (m receiving), angst ending

if there was one thing dabi has learned over the years, it was that people always fell in one of two categories. there were those who would meet his gaze and those who avoided it. he’s not sure which is worse. the brave ones and their wide eyes, always staring at his marred skin with such sick fascination it made his palms itch in the worst way. or the spineless bastards whose eyes stayed glued to the ground when he walked past only to gawk at him like a sideshow freak when they thought he wasn’t looking.

two sides of the same judgemental coin, all part of the same corrupt society that preaches love until someone doesn’t fit their mold. it was getting harder to differentiate between them and at some point he stopped trying all together. what did it matter if he couldn’t remember how it felt to be regarded like a human being? he didn’t need to be human to carry out his vengeance, he only needed to be alive. 

that changed when he met you. 

it wasn’t his cleanest break-in but he couldn’t care less, too busy focused on not passing out from blood loss. it was shit luck that the alley he had chosen to rest in was part of a new hero’s patrol route. the kid was clearly scared out of his mind when he realized dabi wasn’t just another thug on the streets, his pale face illuminated in the night by blue flame. it was a shame, for a rookie the kid had talent with his dagger quirk, being able to throw and call them back at will, even change their trajectory midair. he could’ve made it far in the ranks. 

dabi wondered if they’d bury him with his daggers, scorched bones and all. 

it wasn’t his problem anymore. all he cared about was finding something clean to wrap the nasty cut on his abdomen. there was no special reason he chose your bedroom window to climb through. it was the first apartment with a fire escape he stumbled upon just far enough away from the ashes of the pro hero that he wouldn’t have to worry about being followed. your dim window was the first he reached and it didn’t take much effort to jam a knife between the glass and the lock to force it open. he thought the place might be empty for the night when he stepped inside and heard no signs of life. he got to work tearing the bedsheets in long strips and was nearly done when you walked in. 

there were people who met his gaze and there were people who avoided it. you were neither. 

you saw him. 

even in near darkness, your eyes found his and didn’t flinch at the monster that stared back. the room stayed silent as you seized each other up save the drops of blood that slipped past where he held his wound shut and splattered on the floor. 

“could you not rip my sheets up?” 

your voice was enough to startle him from his initial shock, twirling the knife once before going back to cutting up the fabric. “i need them more than you do. i’ll be gone in a minute, scream and i’ll kill you.” 

you scoffed but didn't reply, walking across the room and flipping the light on in a bathroom he hadn’t seen earlier. a wave of irritation washed over him as he watched you rummage through drawers. who would turn their back to someone who broke into their home? did you have no self preservation? 

you walked back, tossing several things onto the bed before making your way back deeper into the apartment. “close the window on your way out.” 

and with that you’re gone. a part of him wanted to chase you, to tie up the loose end but the memory of your eyes kept him frozen in place. the thought of those same eyes looking at him with fear made his gut twist and he didn’t understand why. he grabbed whatever you tossed at him, the few strips he’d managed to make and left the way he came. it’s not until he’s found an empty alley to rest in did he inspect the items. ace bandages, an entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide, fish wire and a sewing needle. 

your kindness tasted like pity and acid. he couldn’t convince himself to spit it out even as it burned a hole straight through his tongue. 

dabi hated you and he etched that hatred into his skin, stitch by painful stitch. hated you for reminding him that he had yet to purge the weakness from his soul. the same weakness that forced him to walk past your apartment over the next few weeks. it was stupid to stick around in the city for so long, especially after killing that hero. he told himself it was to make sure you’d upped your security since he’d tumbled into your home but it sounded the excuse rang hollow with no one to hear the lie. 

it became such a mindless part of his routine it took him a moment to realize one night that your window had been shattered open. his throat tightened almost painfully, your eyes flashed in his mind and he was flying up the fire escape a moment later. 

a lean figure was pulling open drawers when the sound of dabi stepping on broken glass made him whip around. it’s a pain, not being able to turn the man into fuel for his ever hungry flames but he didn’t think you’d appreciate him saving your house just to burn it down. 

the man’s movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, taking desperate swings that left him wide open for dabi to sneak under his defences. he’d just managed to grapple the intruder into a chokehold when the bedroom door creaked open and both men’s attention snapped to you. 

“you done yet?” you asked and dabi had to force himself to speak under the full weight of your gaze.

“were you here the whole time?” you nodded, acting far too casual for his liking. “why the fuck didn’t call the cops or something?” 

“i figured you’d show up.” you cocked your head at the incredulous look he threw you. “what, you thought i didn’t notice you coming around all the time?” 

he clicked his teeth in annoyance. “well, what do you want to do with him then, sweetheart?” 

it was a test and it was clear you knew it, glancing down at the intruder that had started weakly clawing at his arm. dabi would kill the man regardless of what you said but your answer would speak volumes on where you stood in this society rotted by false gods. 

“i don’t care what you do, just dump the body far from here.” you didn’t blink once as you sentenced the man to death, didn’t blink as dabi shifted his hold and the echo of a snapped neck rang out in the room. you held steady and a begrudging respect rose up in him.

he heaved the man over his shoulder, being mindful to keep the head hidden from your line of sight. you’d already passed his test, there was no need for you to see it any longer then he’d already made you. he just had to know if you were putting on a front or not. if you were, it would’ve been all the more likely for you to put in a tip about a certain villain that lurked around your neighbourhood. 

but instead you had held his gaze, didn’t look at him any differently and dabi didn’t want to know why he felt so relieved for it. 

he honoured your request, carrying the body through back alleys and shadows to the very edge of the city. his thoughts wandered, as they always seemed to where you’re considered, wondering how soon he could see you again while he watched the flames climb high into the night sky. 

“a tarp? seriously?” he’d lasted two full nights before his feet led him back to your fire escape and the brand new thick tarp that covered the missing window. you were in bed this time, reading a book the title of which he couldn’t make out with the dim light from your bedside lamp, not even bothering to look his way as he made himself comfortable on the window sill. 

“shitty landlord is taking his sweet time replacing the glass so yeah. tarp.” 

“you should move. i hear there’s a lot of break-ins going on around here.” he didn’t like how much your huff of laughter to his poor attempt at humour felt like a reward. 

“not all of us can afford to live in the hero sectors, you know?” 

the venom in your voice when you mentioned the hero sector caught him off guard. they’re one of the more subtle forms of corruption present in all cities with a hero presence. living in the hero sectors ensures one’s total safety from any threat. from robberies to natural disasters, a hero’s priority is focused on the rich who can afford the protection. no hero will ever admit to it, though. on paper, the sectors don’t exist. and yet the heroes flock to the same handful of neighbourhoods the moment a threat occurs. another underhand tactic to keep the poor in their place and the rich comfortable. 

you’ve become that much more interesting in his eyes.

“so, you here to bleed all over my sheets again or what?” 

dabi scoffed, “no, but i was hoping you could take these stitches out and we’ll call it even for saving your ass.” he could rip them out himself but where was the fun in that?

“yeah right. who saved who first?” despite your grumbling you waved dabi over, gesturing for him to sit on the bed while you went off to grab supplies from the bathroom. 

he expected you to pull up a chair once you returned but instead you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him onto his back. it took all his concentration not to flinch when you straddled him, your hand trailing under his shirt, fingertips grazing his burnt flesh as you pulled his shirt up, bundling the material and forcing it into his mouth. 

“you might wanna bite down on that, i’m all out of painkillers.” 

there was a gentleness in how you cut the stitches from his body, how you took care to dab an alcohol soaked cotton pad over each one. it made his chest go tight, unable to recall ever being this close to someone and not walking away with new scars. 

dabi found himself lulled into a trance by the rhythm of your hands, a trance that shattered as your fingertips strayed from the path of the cut, following the rows upon rows of staples that held him together instead. he watched your face closely, waiting for the disgust and horror to swim to the surface but your eyes kept the steadiness they always seemed to have. 

“does it hurt?” you whispered. 

he wanted to tell you that it didn’t hurt, not in the way you thought it did. that the nerves beneath his burnt and darkened flesh had died long ago and he couldn’t even feel the patterns you were now tracing on his stomach. it’s the unblemished skin that hurts, that always hurts. the parts of him that still cling to life. 

the human brain processes pain differently than any other stimulation it feels. pain never dulls, never vanishes no matter how long it lasts. every waking moment, his own mind tortures him with fresh waves of pain and never lets him forget the countless staples that pierce his flesh and tear him open everytime he moves. 

there’s so much he could tell you but the words refused to come out, burning up in his throat and leaving him choking on the ash. 

you didn’t push when no answer came, prying his shirt from his clenched teeth and pulling it back into place. “you’re good to go, stranger.” 

his hands that had been clenched by his sides twitched when you started to move away from him and judging by the tilt of your head, it didn’t escape your notice. you settled back over him and this time he couldn’t stop his hands from gripping onto your waist, trying to stop you from shifting.

“stop that.” he said through gritted teeth.

you gave another roll of your hips and smirked when his fingers dug deeper into your sides, “stop what?”

“you’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

“yeah. but you like it.”

he hated that you were right. but he’d be damned if he gave you the satisfaction of seeing him lose it from a little grinding. he used his hold on you to push you back slightly, spreading his legs even further until you were straddling his thigh instead. syrupy smugness filled his veins seeing you flustered for the first time since he’s met you.

“go on, don’t get shy on me now.” you were quick to shake off any reservations, growling at his teasing tone and grinding down on his thigh with a desperation that sent a thrill down his spine. “just like that, make yourself feel good.”

he couldn’t wrap his head around how right this felt. there should have been a moment of hesitation from either of you as you walked hand in hand over a line you’d have no way of crossing back over but instead you melted into each other, all his senses heightened and flooded with you, you, you. 

he was so focused on memorizing every minute expression that crossed your face he didn’t realize you were asking for help until you moved his hands from your waist to your ass. he was more than happy to take over, setting a brutal pace that had you crying out, bunching his shirt up in your fists to try to stay grounded.

“c’mon baby, let go.”

you cum with a strangled cry and he can feel every pulse and clench of your cunt through the layers that separated you. your whole body shook in his arms as he helped you ride out your high before you collapsed on top of him, your head buried in the crook of his neck. he let your hands wander up and down his sides but grabbed hold of your wrists when they started to make their way between his legs.

he was about to tell you to forget about it, to not worry about the ache that sat heavy and hard in his jeans but the pout on your face when you looked up made him freeze. 

“can i?” you asked, so close your warm breath fanned his face.

“you don’t- i didn’t…” he didn’t want you to think that this is all he’d wanted from you, that this wasn’t why he was compelled to return to you over and over. you seemed to understand his silent struggle, gracing him with a small smile. 

“i know. i want to.” any hesitation vanished at the challenging look you gave him while you freed his cock from its restraints. you held your palm out to him and dabi spat into it, never breaking eye contact as you do the same and wrapped your hand around him, coating his length in the mixture of you. you took as much care touching him as you did cutting his stitches, careful and sure with each stroke, sweeping a thumb over his sensitive tip to gather the precum that leaked like a faucet. 

as you worked his cock, he grabbed your leg that had fallen between his and pulled it up until your thighs were spread over his own. he couldn’t help the low groan that escaped him when he slid a hand into pants and past your panties and felt just how wet you were, sinking two fingers inside you just to hear you whine from the stretch. 

it wasn’t the best angle but dabi made it work, crooking his fingers and letting his rough palm slap against your clit with each thrust. when your eyes started to roll back into your head, he used his free hand to grab the back of your neck, pressing your forehead to his and making sure your vision was filled with nothing but him. 

“keep your eyes on me, don’t fucking close ‘em.” your mouth fell open as you nod, somehow keeping your pace steady even as he felt your walls fluttered around him. “show me that pretty face you make when you cum, sweetheart, i wanna see it again.” 

“‘m cumming ‘m cumming oh fuck- ! ” you gasped as your orgasm hit you. he moaned right alongside you as you squeezed just underneath his blunt tip in a sudden death grip, the pain-laced pleasure was almost enough to push him over the edge. 

you dropped to your knees quickly as you felt his cock twitch in your hand, popping the head into your mouth and rolling his heavy balls in your hand. the sudden sensation of your wet, hot tongue pressing at his slit had him shooting rope after rope of cum down your throat and his head spun when you swallowed every drop and showed him your empty mouth. 

dabi pounced, tackling you to the ground, cradling your head before it could hit the floor and crashing his lips onto yours so hard he already knew he’d have to give a gruff apology when they ended up bruised. he chased the bitter taste of himself that lingered on your tongue and shivered when your tongue ran across his scarred bottom lip and you didn’t recoil at what you felt. frantic, rough kisses melted away into a lazy make out that banished all but one thought from his mind. 

he could get used to this. he wanted to get used to this. 

“hey,” your voice pulled him back down to earth, something soft glimmering behind your eyes and dabi didn’t want to look away until he figured out what it was. “i wanna show you something.”

you wiggled out from beneath him, making your way to the window and pushing the heavy tarp out of the way before stepping onto the fire escape. 

following you up the winding stairs felt natural, like he was born to witness the small smile you threw over your shoulder to make sure he was keeping up. 

the view at the top was underwhelming. too many buildings pressed too close together, all the exact same height as the one you two stood on stretching as far as the eye could see to create the most painfully ordinary view he’d ever seen. but it was quiet. the roar of the streets below couldn’t be heard at all and dabi hadn’t realized how loud it all was until deafening silence took its place. and it was cold. cold enough that he couldn’t tell if the ache in his lungs was from the freezing air or the hazy memory of white hair that floated through his mind.

it was the closest thing to peace he could remember feeling in years. 

“you like it?” you were watching him closely, hopping from foot to foot and he didn’t know what possessed you to come out wearing only your flimsy sleepwear. you seemed proud of the little hidden treasure you found and something stirred in his chest thinking about how you chose to share it with him. 

“‘s nice.” he said, reaching out to cover both your hands in his and using just enough of his ever burning flame to warm you both. he found himself waiting once more for the sudden twist of revulsion in your features, for you to jerk away from his touch but you sighed in contentment as heat seeped back into your fingertips. you brought his hands up to your face, making him cup your cold cheeks and closing your eyes to savour the warmth. 

it was as you nuzzled into his palm that dabi realized exactly how dangerous you were to each other. undeserved kindness and crooked smiles and sharing secrets. he hadn’t earned any of these things and yet you handed them to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

and he’ll take them. because that was the nature of the fire he had been cursed with. it takes and takes and takes and you’ll be left with nothing to show for it but the grey ash of your generous heart. and in return you’d lull him with the false belief that he is more than the hatred that flows through his veins, that there was still a person buried under the mountain of rage he carried inside him. he doesn’t think he could survive without it but you would make him believe that he could. 

he’d destroy you. you’d ruin him. 

this, whatever this was that was growing between you was doomed to end before it had even started. he should leave you on this rooftop, leave the whole damn city and forget whatever you had tried to awaken in him. but dabi could never resist the call of destruction, would always want to know exactly how hot and how bright things could burn. what did love look like when it’s been bathed in flames? 

dabi pulled you closer, determined to find out.

dedicated to: @saintdabi​

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

jacqueline wilson’s ‘love lessons’

tw: abuse, pedophilia, characters making Bad Decisions, long unnecessary spiel about my childhood like I’m running a recipe blog

It’s funny how loads of the authors who helped shaped me into the vaguely humanoid being I am today have names beginning with the letter ‘J’; Judy Blume, Jeff Kinney, John Green, J.K. Rowling (yikes, I know) … and Jacqueline Wilson.

I’ve never owned a Jacqueline Wilson book of my own; they were always borrowed from a friend, or from a friend of a friend, or from a friend of a cousin- you get the gist. Her books, for me, come with an entire aesthetic: something reminiscent of yard sales, and reading under the covers with a flashlight, and being lulled into a false sense of security by the deceptively innocent Nick Sharratt illustration on the cover until someone’s best friend gets mowed over.

So I knew what I was getting into when I picked up Love Lessons. I knew this was going to be Fucked Up; and boy, was I right.

(Here’s the part where I warn you about spoilers.)

From an abusive dad to creepy child predator teachers to slut-shaming and victim blaming, this book has it all.

The main character is Prudence ‘Prue’ King, who is homeschooled at the beginning of the book, along with her sister, Grace. Their parents remain rooted in the early twentieth century, and are very strict about- well, everything. No TV, no computers, not a single mobile phone in the house; their clothing worse than the orphans’ from Annie; and their father remains distinctly distrustful of modern institutions like the school and the hospital; and so on, and so forth.

Daddy King suffers a stroke, and has to be taken to the hospital. Meanwhile, Mrs. King (a floppy, spineless woman who lives in fear and awe of her, frankly horrid, husband) sends the girls to school, behind the then invalid Mr. King’s back. Cue Prue and Grace being the freakshows of the school, with their strange clothing and overbearing mother.

Grace manages to make friends, but Prue remains alone. The kids are dicks, the teachers are dicks… well, all of them but one. And that’s the art teacher, Mr. Raxberry (I just couldn’t get over that name; it seems like something you’d name a mythical plant from Pixie Hollow or some shit. I’m assuming it isn’t an actual name, since the spelling & grammar check on my computer doesn’t seem to recognize it), or Rax, as he’s called.

Oh, yeah; Prudence’s favorite subject in school is art, and she’s a whiz at it. This is relevant, because reasons.

And here’s where stuff gets murky. Prue develops a crush on Rax- which is perfectly normal. I’m definitely no stranger to it; I’ve had crushes on my teachers, my mum admitted she used to think one of her professors was cute. And yeah, as I grew older, I grew out of those crushes and now have a markedly more refined taste in men (unless he’s 5’ 7’’, born in ’97 and named Bang Chan, I don’t want him); and my mum married my dad, so I’m assuming she did, too. Admittedly, now that my dad teaches at a university, it’s icky to think that there might be students who have crushes on him- but I digress.

My point is, loads of us have liked our teachers. But I doubt the majority of us have acted on it.

And Prue actively showing her interest in Rax isn’t the worst part. That’s a spot reserved for Rax reciprocating her feelings.

Guess Ezra Fitz and Ms. Grundy (yes, I watched Riverdale; please don’t cancel me) have a new addition to the Creep Club.

The age of consent in the UK is 16, if I’m not mistaken. Prue is 14. She’s just barely become a teenager, and she’s being preyed upon.

Because that is what Rax is. He’s a predator; he preys upon this vulnerable girl who’s never been in a relationship before- hell, she’s never even had friends- her father’s abusive, so she obviously doesn’t have the best experience when it comes to men- she’s unpopular at school, with the students and staff alike- and he lures her in. I don’t care how bloody nice he is to Sarah, or what a good dad he is (well, he’s really not, seeing as he cheated on the mother of his children WITH A BLOODY FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD)- the guy’s a fucking pedophile.

I was staunchly stuck at a yellow light with him; like, sure, maybe Prue thinks he’s flirting with her- maybe she’s looking at this all wrong, she doesn’t know how relationships work- see, he drew a picture of Sarah, too, in his secret notebook- Prue’s just reading into this too much- up until he says he loves her.

Dude. Humbert fucking Humbert. She’s fourteen, for Christ’s sake, and you’re married. You have two children. She’s a child. She’s probably closer to your son’s age than she is to yours.

(This is the part where I bury my head in my pillow. And scream. Extensively, and with passion.)

The book does make some genuinely good commentary on slut-shaming and victim blaming and abusive parenting. And on one hand, I can see why so many people find issue with the romanticization of the when I kissed the teacher trope- but I can defend it, too.

The book is in Prue’s perspective. She thinks she’s in love with Rax, so obviously, she’s not going to throw in some valuable moral at the end- because she’s too young and inexperienced to think otherwise. And sadly, there are loads of instances of child abuse that go unreported because the victims just don’t know better.

What I have issue with is how the school dealt with it, ultimately. Prudence, a child, has to deal with the consequences of the actions of a literal child predator. Sure, Rax ‘clears his name’ by cooking up some bullshit story about how it was only a crush and he didn’t encourage it, but you’d think other adults would know better and, oh, I dunno- dig deeper into it, instead of blaming it on a child?

“She says you told Mr. Raxberry you loved him and he held you in his arms and fondled you.”

Which Prudence denies, because, again, she doesn’t know better. She then goes on to say that they did nothing wrong. To which the adult speaking to her, in this case, the principal, Miss Wilmott, goes on to say:

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true… I feel that there are some aspects of your friendship that could be considered inappropriate.”

FYI, lady, he kissed her- multiple times (not that kissing her once makes him any more redeemable), and told her he loved her, and admitted to fantasizing about running away with her and leaving his family behind. Fun fact: do you know Prudence is underage?

You’d think that Miss Wilmott would maybe give this whole fiasco a favorable ending, but it turns out she listens to school gossip;

“I haven’t been at all happy with your attitude. You don’t seem to understand how to behave in school. I’ve heard tales of unsuitable underwear and then a silly romance with one of the boys in your class. I feel that in the space of a few short weeks you’ve made rather a bad name for yourself… I don’t know whether you intend to be deliberately insolent but you certainly come across as an unpleasantly opinionated and arrogant girl… I can’t help feeling that you’ll be much better off elsewhere. I shall try hard to engineer a suitable transfer to another school.”

And then she comes out with this gem:

“If you won’t leave, then I shall have to ensure that Mr. Raxberry finds another position.”

“No, you can’t do that! He’s a brilliant teacher.”

“You should have thought of that before you started acting in this ridiculous and precocious manner. If I were another kind of headteacher, I would have Mr. Raxberry instantly suspended. There could even be a court case. He would not only lose his job, he could find himself in very serious trouble. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

Girlboss, gaslight and gatekeep. The fucking trifecta.

Also, by ‘another kind of headteacher’, does she mean the kind of headteacher WHO DOESN’T LET CHILD PREDATORS ROAM FREELY WITHIN THEIR HALLS?

This bitch is out here blaming a child, a literal child, for the crimes of an adult man.

The only time Prue seems aware of the fact that Mr. Raxberry is actually a very shit person is her immediate thoughts that follow after she tells Miss Wilmott she’ll take the fall;

I so wanted to save darling Rax- and yet why hadn’t he wanted to save me? Had he told Miss Wilmott it was all my fault, that I’d got a ridiculous crush on him, that I’d made ludicrous advances to him? … I wanted to tell this horrible, patronizing woman how hungrily he’d kissed me, but I couldn’t do it. I loved him. I had to help him.

NO, SWEETHEART; YOU MOST DEFINITELY DO NOT.

And maybe I’m going overboard with all these excerpts, but here’s what Rax has to tell Prue, after school, following her expulsion:

“I let her think the worst of you, the best of me, just to save my skin. I said it was ridiculous talking about a love affair between us. I said you simply had a crush on me, and that I was just trying to be kind… You were brave enough to stand up to me and force me to acknowledge the truth… I love you… That’s why I had to take a risk and see you this one last time. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care… Every night when I close my eyes, I’ll think of us together in this car and how badly I wanted to drive off with you. I’ll imagine us walking hand in hand at the water’s edge… I wish I wasn’t such a coward.”

(I burrow into the pillow further. I’m trying to suffocate myself.)

And that’s where I think Wilson went wrong. Sure, Prudence getting expelled for something that was completely out of her hands is unfair, and horrible, but it’s real. That shit can happen.

What’s bad is showing Rax in a positive light after all that. If only Wilson had written Rax to not be the Romeo he thinks he is. Make him ignore Prudence, throw her under the bus in front of her face, instead of this star-crossed lovers bullshit it’s made out to be. Show your younger audience that Rax is not a good man. I’ve got a little over two weeks left for my twentieth; I can see why this is unacceptable. But I was a little younger than Prue when I watched Pretty Little Liars, and my only gripe with Aria dating Ezra was that Noel Kahn was so much cuter.

It shows when you scroll down the Goodreads reviews; you’ve got adults giving it one or two stars, and teenagers giving it four or five, with their biggest complaints being, “but Toby was cuter!!!”

Other non-pedophilia related complaints regarding the book include: Prudence being unlikable- which I didn’t really notice, considering she reacted to some people way better than I would’ve, even at 19 (which probably says a lot more about me than it does about Prue, but oh well). Still, Prudence obviously isn’t the most prudent of people- and again, she’s fourteen. Look me in eye and tell me you weren’t an arsehole at that age (unless you’re fourteen now, in which case, I assure you that you’ll look back on yourself someday and go ‘wtf was I thinking’). Bringing up Toby’s dyslexia in an argument was low, though.

There were people who thought the Kings’ almost-Amish lifestyle was exaggerated and unrealistic, but I assure you, it may very well be real. There are 8 billion people on the world- it’s fair to assume that several of them are complete weirdos.

Grace was a sweet character, and I adored her with every fiber of my being. As were her friends Iggy and Figgy. Honestly, I would’ve loved a book about Iggy, Figgy and Piggy’s (mis)adventures too.

[americancowgirl19]

Story of Our Life

Summary: In which your daughter finds your diary detailing your life since you were a young girl all the way to a few days before you die. She learns first hand how you fell in love with her father, Bucky, and survived everything life through at you.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death of loved ones, fluff, 

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,575

A/n:

Masterlist

“Hey, has anyone checked this box yet?” Rebecca questions, finding a dusted cardboard box in the corner of the basement.

“No,” Her sister, Stephanie, mutters offhandedly. Rebecca glances at her before kneeling besides the box.

“Anything interesting in it?” Toni, the middle child, questions abandoning the box of vintage clothes in favor of the box Rebecca had picked out. 

Rebecca doesn’t respond as she carefully opens the flaps of the box. At first it looks like there’s a bunch of junk in it, causing Toni to lose interest and return to her box. Rebecca pulls out the various items and sets them on the floor.

“Hey, Steph, there’s some old clipping of Uncle Steve,” Rebecca calls out. “And some of Uncle Tony... and Uncle Sam... and pretty much everyone else,” Both sisters find themselves sitting on either side of Rebecca in order to look through the clippings.

“Mom had to have been the one to do all this,” Toni mutters.

“You really think Dad would sit down and take the time to find these articles and then cut them out?” Stephanie asks, scoffing. 

“Hey, look at this,” Rebecca alerts, pulling out an old framed picture. It shows their parents and their Uncle Steve. It was easy to place when the picture was taken because both of their parents were in their war uniforms and Uncle Steve had yet to get the serum that made him Captain America.

“They look so young,” Toni whispers. All three girls look at the picture but their eyes linger on you, their mother. 

Out of the three of them, Rebecca looked most like you. She had your hair, your eyes, your height but more of Bucky’s bone structure. Stephanie was the one who looked like the perfect mixture between you and Bucky while Toni favored her father.

Stephanie sniffles and forces herself to look away from the picture. Her eyes return to the news clippings, which don’t help lessen the grief. By this point the only one still alive is Uncle Sam, and even he was on his last leg.

Uncle Steve had been the first to go, long before Rebecca and Toni were born. Stephanie still remembers him, vaguely but he’s still there. Stephanie had been born nine months after half the universe was snapped away. You didn’t know you were pregnant until after everything had gone down. Stephanie grew up with Uncle Steve as a father until Bucky was able to return. She remembers not understanding how one second Uncle Steve was young and the next second he was an old man but she remembers still loving him till the day he finally passed.

Toni was the next one to be born. She hadn’t been planned either. She had been conceived while you and Bucky were stuck in some random cabin during a surveillance mission about five years after Bucky had been brought back.

Then came Rebecca nearly two years later. She was the only one planned and the baby that convinced you to transfer to a more normal life. Bucky cut back on missions but didn’t stop completely like you had. 

“Oh, I wonder if this is another art notebook Uncle Steve filled up,” Toni wonders, snatching a heavily worn thick notebook from the box. Rebecca glances at it while Stephanie continues to try and hold herself together.

“Those aren’t pictures,” Rebecca mutters.

“No, they’re words, genius,” Toni rolls her eyes. Rebecca snatches the notebook and flips through it.

“It’s a diary,” Rebecca whispers, gaining Stephanie’s attention. “It’s mom’s...” She realizes, lowering the book onto her lap. Stephanie and Toni share a look before looking at the notebook.

“Dad had a few of those,” Stephanie mutters. “His were... heartbreaking...” Stephanie whispers, remembering stumbling upon one of the dozen notebooks Bucky had filled throughout his life. She remembered that she had found it while the three of them were going through his stuff a few days after he had died, just like they were doing with your things now. “I couldn’t finish his...”

“I don’t think I want to know about hers...” Toni admits. “Mom and Dad told us all the stories they wanted us to know. We all know they had it rough. I don’t want to find out just how rough it was,” Toni says, standing up and returning to the vintage clothes.

“Keep it if you want it, Becca. I don’t want to find out things I won’t be able to forget again,” Stephanie says, standing up and returning to the box of more modern clothes.

Rebecca looks at her two sisters before looking back down at the notebook. She could only imagine what her mother had put in the book. Looking at the dates it seemed as if she started around the time she was a young teenager all the way to a few days before her death.

…

It wouldn’t be until another three weeks before Rebecca looked at the diary again. She had been debating whether or not she should read it since the moment she figured out what it was. Eventually, she gives in.

The first entry is when you were about 14. You started writing in the diary because your mother died and you needed an outlet. The first few entries were heartbreaking and made Rebecca cry as your death was still so fresh in her mind.

Unable to continue, Rebecca flips forward a few years. Unfortunately, she stops around the time you had lost your dad. Not wanting to cry again, Rebecca flips forward once more. 

She stops on an entry from December. You’re in your early 20′s and your describing your day. It’s normal at first. You talk about how you had been shopping with your best friend when you stumble upon a scene you just can’t walk away from.

...

“I think he’s going to propose on Christmas... Or maybe he’ll do it on Christmas Eve. One or the other,” You friend rambles, with a love struck grin on her face. “He’s been dropping hints ever since Thanksgiving and you know how he is, can’t keep a secret to save his life. I’m surprised he’s been holding it in for so long,”

“I’m sure he just wants it to be special, a night to remember,” You comment, adjusting the bag on your tiring arms.

“I know,” She sighs. “I just want him to blurt it out already. I want to be the fiancé now, not the girlfriend,”

“It’ll happen,” You assure her. “He’s obsessed with you, there’s no way you’ll be the girlfriend for long,” She smiles, daydreaming about the future wedding. “There’s the car,” You mumble in relief.

“Oh, finally!” She groans, picking up the pace while you slow to a stop. It takes a moment for her to realize your not following. “What are you doing? You planning on walking all the way home?”

“I think there’s somebody down there,” You comment, seeing movement in the alley.

“It’s Brooklyn, Y/n... There’s people everywhere. Come on,” She pleads but you ignore her and go down the alley. “What is it with you and going down creepy places?” She grumbles, begrudgingly following you.

The further you two walk, the clearer the scene becomes. There’s a large, brute of a man beating on a smaller guy. The guy looked stick thin and obviously couldn’t fight back every easily. Although, you did have to respect the fact that the guy didn’t give up. He kept standing and attempting to fight back.

It only takes a few seconds for you to become fed up with what’s happening in front of you. You shout to gain the man’s attention. You grew up the youngest of 5 brothers, you’re used to making people pay attention to you.

“Well, hello, there,” The large man smirks, shoving the smaller one to the ground. You watch as the blond rolls into trashcans, your anger towards the larger one growing.

“Hi,” You smirk. “What’s a stupid brute like you doing in an alley like this?” You question, enjoying how his face falls. “You like hurting people smaller than you?”

“Sometimes you just have to show people who’s the alpha, ya know?” He winks, but you unamused.

“I don’t see an alpha here,” You tell him. “I see a bully who’s probably been bullied before so he gets the idea in his head that it’s ok for him to bully other’s since it’s happened to him,”

“I ain’t ever been bullied,” He snaps, clearly offended by the mere thought of being the bullied instead of the bully.

“Oh, so you were one of those brainless ‘pretty’ boys who thought it was ok to bully people smarter than you because you could never reach their level of intellect. Oh, and that means you’ll never be as smart as them. Either way, you’re a spineless jackass with no place in this world,”

“Listen, lady-”

“You, you listen,” You snapped, stepping up to him instead of backing down like he wanted. “You’re just a waste of space, asshole trying to bring others to your level instead of climbing out of your own crappy life to become a decent human being. News flash, nobody really likes assholes like you so why don’t you go back to your parents basement and never come out again until you’ve grown up like the rest of us. Ok? Bye,” 

“How about you come with me?” He suggests, a suggestive smirk on his lips. You stare at him dumbfounded. “I can teach you a lesson on how you’re supposed to talk to me,”

“Hey, why don’t you leave the lady alone?” The blond swaying on his feet demands. You glance at him but the large man in front of you completely ignores him.

“I’m wondering, how would you know how people talk to men when you’re just a little bitch?” You ask. Your little jap is the last straw and the man snaps.

You barely register your friend gasping as he attempts to slap you. Luckily, you managed to lean out of his reach and dodge the hit. You don’t hesitate to drop your shopping bags and slam the heel of your shoe into his foot. He groans, too focused on his foot to see your fist heading straight for his jaw. He staggers backward giving you the opportunity to kick him in the balls. 

He hunches over covering his man hood. You examine your hand for a second, forgetting how uncomfortable it is to punch someone. Before you reach forward and grab the mans chin, forcing him to look at you.

“My brother taught me how to do that, you should go see him when you’re ready for a lesson on how to treat other people like decent human beings,” You growl, before shoving his head away from you.

“Oh my God, Y/n, are you alright?” You friend asks coming up beside you. You offer her a coy smile and nod.

“I’m fine,” You assure her before noticing a new guy standing a few feet from you with an awestruck look in his eyes. Nobody says anything for a moment as you size the newcomer up. He’s tall with short cut, dark hair with beautiful blueish grey eyes.

“Well, I came over here to see if the beautiful dame needed some help but looks like I’m not needed,” He smirks, walking closer to you and your friend. You feel a surge of pride run through you, a smirk mimicking his coming to your lips.

“What can I say? Mama didn’t raise a damsel,”

“No, no she did not,”

“Y/n,” You introduce yourself, your eyes locked with his. They’ve been locked since he first spoke up and you felt as if he had trapped you with his gaze. The greyness in his eyes seemed endless, you would willingly get lost within them.

“James but people call me Bucky,” He introduces himself. “You can call me whatever you want, beautiful,”

...

Rebecca couldn’t stop the shit eating grin from coming onto her face as she read how her parents met through her mothers eyes. She read how her mother described Bucky as handsome and charismatic yet also goofy and lovable.

Before she turns the page, she notices a footnote. The footnote is more recent, it’s dated during the 21st century. 

“I learned today that Bucky told Steve he was going to marry me the instant my friend and I were out of ear shot. Seconds after just meeting me,” Rebecca could feel her grin widening. “Had it been up to him, we would have been married within a week but Steve convinced him to wait. Bucky could only wait seven months before proposing.”

Rebecca knew what the world thought of her father. Most of the world knew him as the Winter Soldier but she knew him as the incredible father he was and the hopeless romantic he had been for you. 

She spends a few minutes reminiscing on the memories of Bucky stopping on the way home from school to randomly pick you up flowers. She remembers the dances in the kitchen when she and her sisters had moved the the living room. She remembers the random dances everywhere, Bucky loved to dance. He had danced with his daughters multiple times but it was never like how he held you.

Rebecca remembers how she and her sisters would spy on you and Bucky. They were meant to be in bed but on the days they knew Bucky felt extra romantic, they snuck out to see what he had planned. Of course, being soldiers and spies you both knew you had eyes on you but pretended not to notice.

Bucky would always hold your hand in his and wrap you close with his other arm. There wouldn’t be a space between the two of you as you swayed together. Even the blind could see that you two were head over heels in love, even after everything you went through.

Flipping through the pages, Rebecca stops on an entry dated in the month of July. It was the date you told your grandmother, who you had lived with when your parents died, about your engagement to Bucky.

...

“You’re shaking, doll,” Bucky mutters, pulling you to his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder. “It’s going to be fine,” Bucky whispers, kissing your hair lightly.

“She’s going to be mad,” You whisper.

“She’ll get over it,” Bucky assumes. You smile, leaning your head back to look into his eyes. 

“You don’t know my grandma,” You mutter, “She’s a horrible person,” Bucky laughs and kisses your forehead.

“It doesn’t really matter what she thinks right? We’re going to get married either way. You do want to do this, right?”

“Buck, I’d marry you tomorrow if I didn’t want some kind of a wedding,” Bucky smiles, tucking some loose strands behind your ear. His hand stays there, caressing your head.

“We’re going to be just fine,” He promises. “No matter what happens, you’ll have me. You have me from now till the end of our days,” He whispers.

“I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Barnes,” You whispers, back. He smirks, pressing your heads together. “Once you marry me, I won’t ever let you go,”

“I should be saying that to you,” He mutters, tightening his grip around you. “You sure you wanna do this, doll?”

“Marry you? Absolutely... Tell my grandma? No,” Bucky smirks, kissing your nose.

“Come on, the sooner we get this done the better,” You sigh but let him pull you into the large house that belonged to your grandma.

Your grandma is an impossible person. She’s judgmental and cynical. She came from money and looked down on those without it. Those like Bucky. She had disowned your mother because she fell in love with a blue collar man. Deep down you knew the same was about to happen to you.

“Well, looks like street rats can clean up,” She comments, looking at Bucky’s attire. You jaw clinches tightly as you quite literally bite your tongue.

“Nice to meet you ma’am, I’m James but you can call me Bucky,” He introduces himself, politely. He holds his hand for her but she just looks at it.

“Your late,” She states, staring at you before walking into the dinner room. 

“Well, she seems nice,” Bucky mutters.

“We should make a run for it,”

“Think we just got locked in,” Bucky whispers, seeing the main door close. 

“Damn,” You whispers. Bucky smiles, holding your hand tightly.

“We out number her, stronger in numbers right?”

“We’re gonna need a couple more people to outnumber her,” Bucky sighs, giving your hand another squeeze before leading you into the dinning room.

Dinner had been tense with few words spoken. Bucky talked about himself when your grandma had flat out refused to answer him. You tried to ease the tension but nothing seemed to work. 

“So, Y/n,” Your grandma finally speaks.

“Yes?”

“How long as you going to keep this hoodlum?” She questions. Your jaw drops for a moment as you wonder if she had seriously just asked you that. Bucky pauses in his feast to glance at you. Your mouth slowly closes and a glare sets.

“For the rest of my life,” You tell her. “I’m marrying him,”

“No, you’re not,” She laughs, shaking her head.

“I am,” You state sternly. Bucky gently caresses the inside of your thigh but it doesn’t soothe you like it normally does.

“No, you won’t,” She says. “Why don’t you marry that dashing Vince from next store?”

“Because Vince is a tool who can’t think for himself. I don’t love Vince, I love Bucky and I will marry him,”

“Darling, do not make the same mistake your mother made,”

“My mother loved my father,” You snap. “They loved each other to the day they died,”

“Your mother would have still been alive had it not been for that man,” 

“My father was not at fault,” You growl. “Besides, had they not gotten together me and my siblings wouldn’t have been alive,” She scoffs.

“Oh, and the world surely wouldn’t have been able to survive with disappointments like you and your brothers in the world,” She rolls her eyes.

“My brothers and I are not disappointments,” You snapped. “If anything, you’re the disappointment with you bitterness and lack of love for the world and your family. Someday soon, you will be lying on your death bed all alone because of your cruelty and hatred. I will not live like you. I’ll live with love in my heart and family around me. I will marry Bucky and you won’t stop me,” You said standing up.

“If you marry that boy, you’ll die without a dollar to your name,” She tells you.

“As long as I die with the ones I love by my side, I’ll be considered the luckiest woman in the world,” You grandma scoffs as you grab the back of Bucky’s collar and yank him out of his seat because apparently he hadn’t gotten the idea that you two were leaving.

...

“Wow, Grandma really was a bitch,” Rebecca mutters. You hadn’t talked about your grandma. You just only ever mentioned having lived with her until moving in with Bucky. You never went into more detail and the girls just stopped asking, not that they were entirely interested in the old hag.

Rebecca continued to flip through the diary. She smiled when she read about the simple wedding they hand in your brother’s back yard in upstate New York. You had worn a crème colored sun dress. A dress Steve had accidentally stained right before you walked down the aisle.

...

“I am so sorry,” Steve apologized for the millionth time as you and your brother’s wife tried to clean the dress.

“Steve, it’s fine,” You laugh, smiling at him. 

“It’s not like it’s going to be on all night,” Your sister-in-law, winks at you. You smirk, laughing as Steve’s cheeks flamed red.

“You uh... you still look beautiful,” Steve promises. “Bucky probably won’t even notice,” Your sister scoffs and you pinch her arm. “I’ll uh... I’ll be outside,” Steve slips out. You sigh looking at the mirror. The large stain covers your entire stomach.

“Well, we knew anything that Bucky and Steve were going to be apart of was going to be interesting,” She tells you. You smile and nod.

“Definitely a wedding to remember,” You mutter.

“Alright, ladies!” You eldest brother shouts coming into the room in his best trousers and button up shirt. “You look....” Your brother starts to chuckle causing his wife to slap him upside the head.

“Just do your job and make sure she makes it down the aisle,” Your sister snaps, pointing at him threateningly. He smirks giving her a wink and a salute before smacking her ass as she leaves.

“So, you’re positive you want do to this?” He asks. “We can have a car here in 30 seconds and have you in the next state in 30 minutes,” 

“I’m fine, I want to do this,” 

“Poor bastard,” He mutters. You laugh, punching his arm. He laughs pulling you into a hug. “Come on, the sooner I can give you away the sooner I can run away,” 

“Here goes nothing,” You whispers, as you and your brother begin to walk down the aisle. 

“Make no mistake, all these people are looking at this handsome man,” Your brother whispers to you.

“More like stupid man,” You mutter back. He smirks but doesn’t say anything. Once you reach the end, he hands you to Bucky, who pulls your as close as possible.

“Nice stain. Really brings out your eyes,” He winks at you.

“You can thank Steve for the finishing touches,” You whisper. He smirks, kissing the top of your head. 

“You could be getting married in your underwear and I’d still be happy,” He whispers.

“Something tells me that you’d prefer it if I wasn’t wearing anything,”

“Hey, if the shoe fits,” You laugh leaning into him as the preacher talks in front of you two.

...

“135 years,” Rebecca whispers, once she figured out how long the two of you had been married before Bucky had died. Buck had passed a few years ago. You had never been the same but managed to stick around before you passed in your sleep on his birthday about a month ago.

Rebecca continues on. She reads a few of the shorter entries. They’re mainly milestones for you and Buck. Your first apartment together, your first car together, your first pregnancy that had unfortunately ended in a miscarriage.

A few years later, the United States enter the second world war. She read about your fear of losing Bucky. She read about the numerous attempts Steve had made to get into the Army, being rejected each time. She read how you supported Steve despite everything he does worries you. She skimmed past the parts where your brothers enlisted but stopped when she saw the part where you had enlisted.

...

Your father had been a pilot in the first world war. He told you stories and you clung to them growing up. When you got the opportunity to become an Airwomen, you jumped at the opportunity.

You knew you should have mentioned it to Bucky but he hadn’t said anything about joining the Army. You knew he would but he could have spoken to you about it first. Instead, he enlisted and showed up in his uniform. You remember being so angry but understanding why he had done it.

You were many things and petty is one of them. You didn’t talk to Bucky about joining the military because it isn’t his decision, it’s yours. The same reasoning he had for joining the army.

When you got accepted, you showed up at home in your uniform. To say Bucky was surprised is an understatement.

“What are you wearing?” Bucky asks, staring at you.

“A uniform,” You tell him. “I’ve been recruited for the Women Airforce Service Pilots program,” You explain. “I’ll be leaving for training a little bit after you. Base is in Avenger Field, Texas.“ Buck stares at you as what you told him sinks in. “I’ve been told if I go over seas, they’ll be noncombat missions,” 

“So, you just join the Air Force and not talk to me about it?” Bucky asks. You laugh and shake your head.

“You don’t get to be mad at me Buck, you didn’t talk to me about joining the Army-”

“That’s different-”

“How?!” You snap, as he stands up. “How is it different Buck? We both want to protect this country, we’re both doing it our own ways. How is it different?”

“Because it’s expected of me to go over!” Bucky shouts. “If I hadn’t volunteered I probably would have been drafted, I didn’t have a choice,”

“Oh, please, even if you had a choice you’d enlist,” You roll your eyes. “Just because I’m a female doesn’t mean that I can’t fight in the war,” You tell him. “I have every right to lay down my life just like you do,” Bucky clenches his jaw before pacing and racking his fingers through his hair.

“I know,” He grumbles, falling back on the couch. “I know you deserve the same chances as I do but that doesn’t make this any easier,” He finally meets your gaze. “I’m still coming to terms that I’m in the army. It’s just... It was easier knowing that when I leave you would still be here. Safe. I love you, Y/n. You’re it for me, you’re all I want. Joining the war... Even if it’s noncombat, you’ll still be in danger and I can’t lose you,”

“Buck, I could lose you just as easily,” You whisper, sitting beside him. “I can’t lose you Buck but I can’t stay here and wait for you to come back. I’ll lose my mind,” Bucky smiles a bit and gently pets your hair. “I love you. I wish there wasn’t a war but there is and we’re both apart of it now,”

“What is it with you and Steve?” Bucky grumbles. Your smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. He holds you close.

“You know I can handle myself,” You whisper to him. “You and me, we’re going to be fine. We’re going to make it through this war and we’re going to have a hundred babies, everything’s going to be fine,” You shift your head to look up at him.

“I love you, so much,” He whispers. You smile, gently pressing your lips against his. “Are you sure this is something you want to do?”

“Yeah, Buck,” You whisper nodding. Bucky sighs holding you tightly. “I have to do this,” 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier,” Bucky whispers. You slowly begin to grin. “You come strutting in that nice uniform,” You smirk straddling his waist.

“Now you know how I felt when you came home, Mr. Barnes,” You wink, rubbing down his chest. Bucky hums, a coy smirk on his lips.

“I’ll love you forever, baby doll,” Bucky whispers, gently holding your hips in his hand.

“No matter where we are shipped to in the world, I promise I’ll always find my way back to you,” You promise him. “I won’t let anything, not even death, keep us apart,”

“I’ll hold you too that, doll,” Bucky whispers, kissing your lips tenderly.

...

Rebecca takes a break from the diary. She makes herself some food and debates if she wants to go further. She knows that everything begins to go down hill once the two of your are separated by the war. She didn’t know if she would be able to handle your personal thoughts on what happened.

Rebecca had learned about you, Bucky and Uncle Steve in school. She had seen you all in museums. They never really intrigued her since she had the real stories at home. It’s one thing to read the stories on a random wall or listen to watered down versions from your parents and an entirely different thing to listen to your unfiltered thoughts.

Stephanie had told her and Toni what she had found in their father’s notebooks. His notebooks consisted of the same stories written down as he remembered, forgot and then remembered them again. She briefly explained the guilt he felt and just how detailed he had gone into with all the things he had done.

Rebecca knew your story would be just as traumatic and bloody. She didn’t know if reading it would taint the memory of you or not. She wanted to remember you as the loving, caring, yet badass mother you were. Not the weapon Hydra had made you into.

However, her need for the truth and her thirst for knowledge made her want to learn more. Before she knew what was happening, she was back in front of the diary.

The first thing she noticed is that your diary jumped from right before you had been kidnapped by Hydra to the 21st century after you and Bucky had been reunited with Steve.

...

“Whatcha doin’ there, doll?” Bucky asks, coming up behind you. You glance at him from your seat at the desk.

“Writing,” You whisper. “I used to do it way back when and my therapist thinks it’s a good idea I start again,” Bucky sits beside you, your thighs pressed against each other.

“Is that the same diary-?”

“Yep,” You nod, smiling a bit. “Don’t ask me how it survived but here it is,” You tell him. “Thought I could pick up where I left off,” You whisper, your mind slowly slipping back to the last entry you had made. It was two days before your plane had been shot down and you were kidnapped by Hydra.

“I’ve been writing, too,” Bucky admits. You glance at him. “It helps keeps the thoughts together but other than that...” Bucky sighs, frustratingly. 

“Hey, we’ve made it this far,” You smile, pressing your hand on his leg. “We survived the world war, survived Hydra, reconnected with Steve, became Avengers,” You laugh a bit. “At this point, I’m feeling pretty damn invincible,” You tease.

“You are, baby doll... I can’t seem to get rid of you,” He smirks.

“I do remember telling you that I wouldn’t let anything, not even death, keep us apart,” Bucky wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap. The two of you hold each other tightly.

“You did,” Bucky recalls. “And thank you, so much, for keeping that promise,” He whispers.

“You’re mine, Bucky. You’re it for me, I don’t want anybody else,” You whisper, kissing his forehead. “Sure, we may be a bit more screwed up now,” He laughs a bit. “But we can be screwed up together,”

“There’s no one else I’d rather be with,” Bucky whispers, nuzzling his head in your neck. You smile, running your fingers through his hair.

“I love you,” You whisper to him.

...

The next entries after that one were more horrific. You described the assassination's you had done. You wrote about the people you had tortured, interrogated, and killed.

Although, through all the darkness of the entries you made, something stuck out to Rebecca. You wrote about the fact that Hydra never woke you and Bucky up at the same time. 

You and Bucky had been so in love with each other that you could snap each other out of Hydra’s hold. Even if you couldn’t bring each other’s memories back, you just instinctively knew how important the other was. Nothing, not even Hydra’s agenda, was more important than keeping the other safe and close.

You two had caused so many problems with Hydra that you had to be separated. They had originally tried making you two work together but then you both disappeared. You both knew Hydra was bad and that you two were good. Hydra unfortunately found you two hiding out somewhere and recaptured you. After that, you two weren’t woken up at the same time again.

Keeping you two apart was the best decision for Hydra. Until Alexander Pierce got antsy. Captain America and Black Widow were close to taking down Hydra and stopping Project Insight that he woke both of you up despite knowing what would happen.

He was desperate and it was his downfall. The instant you and Bucky were left alone, you both turned on Hydra. You helped Steve bring down Hydra in return Steve helped you both regain your memories.

There was a little blip when they found out about Bucky killed Tony’s parents but they managed to work it out without killing each other. Eventually, you and Bucky had become close with Tony.

Tony went out of his way to sure you and Bucky were comfortable. He continuously made upgrades to Bucky’s arm. He made it to the point where Bucky could feel with it. He even made an arm that looked human, as if he had never lost it.

Against all odds, the pair of you became Avengers and saved the world.

Rebecca was proud to call you and Bucky parents. She hated that you both were gone yet happy that you two were together now. She knew that even in your late years of life the horrors of your younger years still haunted you. Now, however, the two of you were at peace together. 

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Eight

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it’s all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared, for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au ??? (at this point idek) angst, fluff, slice of life etc ?? word count :: 4.8k author note :: i’ve been very ill so yeah, not the best writing but i really can’t go that long without wanting to write so i ended up writing an update, i hope you enjoy it, it’s longer than usual :D sorry for any mistakes it hasn’t been proof read at all :-( → next part coming soon!!

“Hey, newbie you haven't spoke about your home town much have ya?"

You lift your head, verifying Reiner's suspicions with a nod. You recall he's the same distasteful blonde brute who made those snide remarks about Hange. He must be at least a towering six foot if his shadow is able to cover the majority of the Sun's rays from hitting you.

You would maybe bother to give him and his inquiry more attention than you currently are if he hadn't been so unnecessarily impolite during the morning speeches.

Calves yelping in stinging pain from the first tastes of the full time training regime you simply cannot find the effort to strain your mind with small talk.

Temples throbbing it feels as if a sword has been forced through the side of your head,  but that's not it at all. Reiner has thrown a small rock at you and you hear him chuckle under his breath.

Twisting your position so you face him you glare in displeasure.

Although you don't particularly enjoy the idea of joining Levi's unit and having to become a concealed agent of sorts you can't really take your pickings at how it is you wish to survive. You're going to have to deal with it and you've come to the stage of acceptance now.

However, you are not willing to respect the attitude some of these cadets are giving you, it's clear there's already a strong hierarchy in place.

Reiner just so happens to be one of the big guns from what you've been able to observe. He possess strong upper body strength and his hand to hand combat isn't a laughing matter either. That means he's higher up in the ladder of cadets, that's for sure. To top it all off you know you're not as powerful as other members in the team in terms of skill and he's probably silently making a mockery of you for it.

Pursing your lips you decide to play this game cautiously, asking him what it is he needs from you isn't the best option. You're aware he's after something, it's written all over his face. You practically know every deceptive look in the book off by heart. You suppose it's the only perk you got out of living in a noble household for most of your life.

"Why do you care?" You bluntly question him.

"Ohh, you're feisty. Might not want to butt heads with Annie."

"Not sure who that is but I don't plan on it."

Turning away from him it look like you're distracting yourself by collecting pieces of firewood. Trailing around you act as uncaring as possible to annoy him. You need to gauge this man's reaction somehow.

Your plan seems to be working in your favour because you're able to see his footing shift from his natural stance, it looks as if he's about to risk charging at you due to your vulnerable position but you rotate again offering him a knowing smile.

You don't tell him you're conscious of his suspicious nature but if he's quick witted enough he'll be able to figure out you aren't a threat and apparently don't have a clue what it is he's up to. The only reason he'd even consider attacking you would be if he saw you as an issue. For now your act should at least keep him at bay.

"Fine. I'll tell you about my hometown, I'm just..." You pause to make yourself look believable and proceed to look up at him through your lashes, you dart your gaze away and awkwardly scratch the back of your neck exuding coyness.

"I'm incredibly homesick. I miss mother. I always made supper for her, now I can only pray she's not eating burnt chicken." Your act has to be working because his eyes soften and he takes half of the firewood in your arms offering to help you carry it.

"My mum's a great cook, can't relate squirt."

"Who you calling squirt?" You playfully snap back.

"I call everybody that, even Captain Levi... Well, when he isn't around to hear it."

You bite the inside of your cheek at the mention of the Levi's name.

“So you and the Captain? What’s that all about?” His question makes no sense at all, one minute he wants to prod and poke in your personal home life yet the next minute he's asking questions about Levi. The doubts you have surrounding him only thicken.

You take a moment to consider his question,

“Whatever do you mean?” Clueless, you're delivery is excellent. Acting naive is easy enough, everyone within the corps has already decided that's what your automatic disposition is.

Reiner gives you a skeptical look then smiles faintly, “Glaring daggers at Jean after he got handsy with you?”

You cover your mouth with your free hand and laugh so hard the firewood nearly flies out of your grasp.

“Me and Jean are friends, and Levi? He just wanted to find a reason to get mad at us probably.” You hope the explanation suffices because you truly have no idea why Levi had done what he did.

Reiner hums in approval at your answer but he then grins.

“You on first name basis with the Captain?”

Fuck, you called him Levi.

Play it cool.

“Huh? When have I ever said his first name?” Clueless. Your delivery is still perfect.

“Just now.” He fires back, Reiner doesn't seem to be letting up but he doesn't know how smooth of a liar you are.

Living with your father for all those years conditioned you in ways you hadn't even noticed until quite recently.

“Did I? Pardon, I didn’t mean for it to slip out. Sometimes I silently curse him out in my head and forget to add his title.”

Your acting is impeccable, Reiner has no reason to doubt you. As you expect he doesn't instead he shifts the conversation to his hometown, just like you he doesn't explicitly mention a name. Reiner is sharp but he hasn't noticed the way you've left a name out just like him. He's terrible at catching out his own kind.

You decide at that moment that Reiner Braun is a liar. The accusation is more of a hunch meaning more investigation is required.

You won't inform any of the higher ups about it just yet.

The walk back to base is filled with excruciatingly troublesome small talk and you make a mental note to take Mikasa along with you next time it's your turn retrieve the firewood.

You can't afford any more close encounters with Braun or any of his possible accomplices.

Sniggers batter your ears as soon as you step foot onto the grounds, you have a sixth sense when it comes to spiteful bad-mouthing and after the abysmal day you've had you anticipate there will be unpleasant commentary.

"Seen the way Y/N ruined the assault course today?"

"We're the finalized cadets across all the regions of Paradis. That means we have to rely on that embarrassment to fight titans."

"Good Lord, someone have mercy on our souls."

Fellow cadets press on in their criticism thinking you aren't within earshot. That, or they purposefully aim for you to pay attention to the disapproval they have of your presence.

But, you do understand where they're coming from. You make another mental note - practice a bit more later today.

The gossiping isn't anything you're unfamiliar with, your father's palace never offered kindness to you or your existence. In fact it's rather comforting being talked badly about behind your back.

That statement sounds absurd but you can't explain it. Maybe it's due to Levi typically hurling his unnecessary remarks right at you without warning. Then again he does provide everyone with that treatment, even Commander Erwin.

As you hurry away increasing the distance between you and your loud mouthed team members you spot Levi from the corner of your eye. He's in conversation with Hange but you notice how his jaw is clenched in frustration, you feel a pinch over your skin when he spares you a fleeting look. Eyes acquainting yours. Paying  no attention to him you walk away as fast as you can.

The cadets only blow up in volume now, they definitely want you to hear what they have to say.

"Maybe we should ask the higher ups to throw her ou-"

"Questioning authority? Pesky mutineers aren't you?" Levi's booming voice shakes anyone within a five metre vicinity, he comes out of nowhere and seems nothing short of furious.

"You're all," He continues, voice rising, "Incredibly spineless aren't you?"

One of the cadets embellishes their face with a scowl, it doesn't go unnoticed by Levi but he astonishingly doesn't lash out, physically at least. His deathly glare is more than enough to finish the job.

Stupidly you suffer feeling your heart palpitate in your chest watching him talk to the group of three. Stupidly, you're getting your hopes up again.

He scoffs coldly, "If you're all talk why not offer to duel her?"

It doesn't take long for your heart to stop throbbing with its previous intensity. You know it was too good to be true. Levi suddenly defending you that is.

The gesture isn't done to protect or shield you. No, you're sure this man loathes you and is intending to persist on making your life as bleak and dreary as possible.

"Up to a battle Y/N?" The unnamed blonde cadet's scoffs in derision and you find yourself wanting to punch her square in the jaw.

Irritation sears through you but you meekly shake your head mumbling a weak "No thanks.", you're much too afraid to duel anyone just yet and you don't remember her from the training sessions. She must have been in a corner keeping to herself.

With all that being said and done you pathetically withdraw, and just like the past few days you sense Levi's piercing gaze erupting into your soul.

The blistering Sun hits every nook and cranny of the training ground. Waking up early already has you wanting to pass out and the heat isn't any help.

The crowd of cadets mumble in fatigue but observant Mikasa jabs you in the shoulder pointing out how far away Jean has stood from you.

You feel guilty that Jean had to suffer through the humiliation tossed at him yesterday but you are grateful to not deal with his constant questioning and talkative self this early in the morning.

All the way at the other side of the throng of soldiers he stands with Bert, who might you add is a mammoth of a man.

Through some digging (more like asking Mikasa) you've discovered he's close with Reiner and the blonde cadet from yesterday's confrontation, turns out she's the Annie that Reiner warned you off.

"ATTENTION!" Hange sing songs at the front of the training ground. They're jumping around along with Squad Leader Mike checking if everyone's in the correct uniform - Apparently the year prior a cadet showed up wearing a thick cardigan and fainted from heat stroke...

“Today’s exercise is a time to redeem yourself!” Hange’s eyes dart towards you and you smile at one another.

“A FIGHT TO THE DEATH!”

Everyone murmurs looking at each other in pure confusion.

“A fight up against another person. Whoever wins their individual fights will receive extra special privileges." The explanation seems simple enough and you’re confident that if you’re put up against the right people you can make it out safe.

The promise of a reward is also enticing.

The 104th Training Corps are thrilled, there’s nothing too hazardous about the task and it’s nothing difficult to ask for. Even you’re looking forward to it. The chance to rescue your reputation has you pumped up with adrenaline.

“My, my my. Don’t excite yourselves just yet little hens, there’s a pretty little catch.” Hange's voice is laced in mischief. This can't be any good.

Everyone stops breathing in unison and it’s pin drop silent.

“You must cause harm to your opponent in some way. Whether it be making them faint, breaking an arm, breaking a leg. There are no rules when it comes to playing dirty!”

With a playful shrug of their shoulder Hange hops off the podium.

Squad Leader Mike pulls out the list of competitors. He’s decided the line-up on his own and begins the announcement with Bertholdt.

“BERTHOLDT HOOVER..."

Bert turns to look back at Reiner hesitantly and for such a giant it’s adorable how worried he is when everyone else is perturbed thinking about the poor individual who has to go up against him.

"AGAINST Y/N L/N!"

The crowd falls silent and your mouth is wide, this is unjust there’s no way this is allowed.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s kinda unfair?” Krista speaks out for you even though Ymir is by her side trying to talk her out of getting involved.

“She stands no chance against him.” Reiner is supporting your cause too.

Mikasa takes a step forward. “I agree, it’s not right, may I take her place instead?”

“No, no! It’s alright, I’ll go for it.”

Honestly you don’t want the corps to see you as a coward. Bravery and courage is what brought everyone here. Your story is different. You’re here to selfishly save your own life, you aren’t anywhere near as valiant as the rest of them. The very least you can do is partake in activities correctly.

Stepping up to the podium you stand by Bertholdt he gives you a pitiful look whilst he mutters an apology.

Mike continues announcing the names. A few include Jean against Mikasa (Jean may as well forfeit), Marco against Annie and Connie against Reiner - that pairing eases you. At least you aren't in this alone. You and Connie stand no chance against those beasts.

Everyone lines up in their separate areas and again Bertholdt is profusely apologizing asking if you want to fake faint or anything of the sort. You shake your head and promise to give it all you've got.

And then the games begin at the sound of the bell, and damn that Bertholdt because he isn't keeping to his end of the bargain. He lunges forward viciously aiming to crush your entire body but you swiftly dodge, he tries the same approach but when you duck out of the way again he stops knowing he needs to rethinks his strategy.

"Just give it up I'll win either way."

Well, the Mister nice guy act was definitely a believable performance. He was so convincing you even contemplated feigning unconsciousness when he proposed the idea to you.

Bertholdt is much slower than you giving you more time to deliberate your incoming moves. If you can get him to edge close enough to a nearby tree and deceive him into colliding with the oak trunk you should win - only on the condition that he passes out.

The scheme is far-fetched but it's your only hope.

Dashing from various corners he flies after you, each time unable to catch up to you.

That is until you stumble and lurch to the ground. The wind is knocked out of your lungs and you panic when a large hand clutches at your ankle. Your solution? Booting him right in the teeth.

However with an earth-shattering amount of force Hoover's hold on your ankle doesn't weaken. Instead he tightens his hold like a vice. You feel it bruise and the violet discoloration that'll be present in a few hours makes you wince.

Entire body going limp on command, you stop yourself from breathing - another talent you picked up back at the palace to avoid extra beatings.

When you no longer thrash around Bertholdt stalks in to check in on you and as expected he’s now towering over you, blood overflowing in terror.

"SQUAD LEADER HANGE, CAPTAIN LEVI SHE'S NOT MOVING!" He's roaring for their help frantic and anxious. If he's caused any permanent damage he's as good as dead meat.

"Oh my Lord. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

Bertholdt's voice is fractured in unadulterated horror and judging by the direction you hear it at he has to be facing away from you.

Unbolting your eyes you learn your assumption is correct and despite hurried footsteps being within audible range you take your chance by the reigns.

Leaping to your feet and with no forewarning you swing your leg to the back of his neck. Stunned by the surprise attack he falls to his knees and you situate yourself in front of the oak tree you've been eyeing from the time the exercise began.

"You cunning bitch." Staggering back up he makes a swift rebound. At this point all mercy has left him and his one true aim is to completely pulverize you.

Everything is falling into place. All you need to do is wait for the right moment and finally you come across it when he suddenly pounces for you. Darting to the left you leave the space open for your prey.

Poor Bertholdt falls right into the palm of your hands like a rag doll. His momentum can't be controlled and he smashes headfirst into the trunk with a loud crunch sounding out. Bark splits and scrapes off the tree upon impact.

His head has to throb and you don't want to imagine how painful it is to feel the rivulets of soreness.

He doesn't get up and only groans, you feel half bad but after the tricks and antics he pulled you come to the conclusion that it's all deserved.

"Well, Y/N, you've proven yourself to be quite quick witted." Hange's praise is strange to hear but you beam proud that you've proven your worth.

"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself." Levi orders. "It could have been pure luck."

In spite of Levi's pessimism you bask in the glory of your win.

A week into joining Levi's unit you're becoming more accustomed to the new environment, in fact the gossiping and horrible rumours stop completely after your win and interactions with your fellow comrades feel easier and lighter.

You think the taunts will have only got more relentless after the duel fiasco but you suppose Annie chose to be considerate and take pity on you.

"Your progress has been remarkable so far." You jump when you hear Jean's deep voice appear right next to you.

Looking around to see if any other cadets are around you finally release a breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

"Ah. Thank you." You murmur quietly.

"I know it's been a week since I was scolded by the Captain but this won't count as flirting will it?"

Impeding the one sided conversation you're reflecting, you're not sure what exactly about. Probably whether or not you should maintain the discussion - if it can even be referred to as such.

Forget it. You know what they say, you only live once.

Flicking his forehead you roll your eyes, "We were never flirting he's just an over dramatic, bitter hag. I put my money on the fact he's never felt the touch of a woman before."

Jean's eyes widen in disbelief, you half expect he'll split open in tremendous laughter but he looks terrified. Then you become conscious of the fact he's not even staring at you, his eyes are engrossed by whatever is behind you.

Unfortunately for you your body tells you all you need to know. His cologne floods into your nostrils, you can't even reassure yourself and pretend it's anyone else, you know he's the only one who smells that strongly of fresh linen.

Being unable to see him doesn't stop you from imagining his dark lifeless eyes accompanying themselves with what is before them.

It doesn't even take Jean a minute to abandon you, he breaks out into an awkward smile, hurriedly pats your shoulder before dashing away, dispersing all the way to the other end of the hallway in a matter of seconds and turning the corner away from you.

Heart rate soaring you hesitantly spin on your heel. Levi's stood there, looking beyond unimpressed.

You intend to breeze past him, cool and collected. You take a step forward but God has never been one to bless you with luck, stumbling and tripping over thin air lands you flying.

Ready for impact you brace yourself but it never comes, instead solid hands are firmly placed at the small of your back steadying your position and your palms have unceremoniously landed atop his torso.

"Play along." Levi's voice is low and rumbling, and you can't look him in the eyes. Not out of fear or dread, more so exhaustion but you muster the energy to look to your left. There Erwin and Hange stand giggling to themselves like children. As quick as you spot them they vanish in the same fashion. It's as if they were never there.

You're worn out and fatigued wanting nothing more than a good night's rest. If there's one thing you haven't grown used to it's the lack of sleep.

"Let go." Moving to shift his hands away from your waist you halt your movements when he without warning lets go of you, not even giving you the opportunity to renovate your balance.

Flying to the ground and landing with a thud you rub your backside at the blow.

Mirthlessly chuckling the lack of amusement is clear in the way he composes himself.

Making a dash for it sounds tempting but you may as well let him have his way. There's no action you can take to avoid him reprimanding you. It's your fault for having the gall to make that crude and foul-mouthed comment in the first place.

You gulp comprehending the situation is even worse now since you really only said it for the sole reason of Kirstein's amusement.

"Y/N, I'd like to have a word with you."

Hesitantly you look up at Levi, he has an indecipherable expression on his face, it's been a while since you've last been left in his company alone.

The two of you are stood in his office, his desk is flooded with papers, they're haphazardly scattered all over the place and spikes of worry weirdly make them self present in your belly. This isn't right. He'd never leave his work space in this state.

"Are you okay?" You ask it because you’re sure he isn't.

His shoulders and spine stiffen. "Cut the crap and keep the formalities to yourself." He chides, most definitely defensive in his stance.

Without asking him you shuffle to his desk stacking the papers into organised piles, most of the documents are related to an up and coming expedition and it's all beginning to add up. Even humanities strongest soldier has moments where he cracks.

Then you notice your name on the formation plan but before you're able to make anything out of it Levi snatches it off his desk and away from you stuffing it into his pocket.

Without another sound he observes you cleaning the rest of the mess away but doesn't ask for you to stop. There's no reason for him to.

If you do this maybe he'll go easier on you, yeah that's what your motivation is. That's not exactly the truth, really you're just concerned about whatever has him worked up.

Placing the last document in its rightful place you want to give your mind a moment to recollect itself but Levi doesn't think the same.

He places his arms on either side of the desk, trapping you with no way out. Oddly, there's nothing threatening about him looking down at you this time, the greys and blues of his iris' captivate you.

"Do you enjoy making a mockery of your husband?" The question is whispered. It's unanticipated and the title of husband is uncharacteristic coming out of his mouth.

"It was just a joke." You mumble your answer under your breath.

"Would you have spouted that shit in front of the rest of the unit?"

Mildly shaking your head he then sighs. He’s not angry, he genuinely seems let down.

"Do you prefer him over me?” You swear you hear the faintest hint of self-doubt.

His questions are getting more out of the ordinary by the second and you’re waiting for him to crack a malevolent grin before he ridicules you like he always does.

“Of course I don’t prefer him over you.”

“Prove it.”

Tilting your head up towards him you have no idea what he wants for you to do or say, why does this suddenly even matter to him?

And then you imagine it happen, him digging his hands into your shoulders. Your weight along with his shifting up against the desk making it creak. Your mind details how he would kiss you agitatedly and you flush thinking about how you would feverishly return the favour.

It seems like your imagination predicts the future. He grips your jaw with his hand, his touch isn’t firm and for once it’s quite soft. Relishing in the new experience as he leans in you secure your eyes shut in expectation.

Stroking your cheek with his thumb the warm sensation that courses through your body is rather pleasant. His hands come out to run against your body, pinching the sides of your waist. The motion makes your heart stall for a second. Involuntarily, you find yourself leaning into him.

“This seem like a man who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman before?”

And just like that he leaves you hanging. You flutter your eyes open and there he is. He’s back, the same cynical man, smirk etched onto his features, his body still parallel to yours.

You find yourself enraged at how he's just lead and dragged you on, you should have stuck with your gut feeling and not given into temptation but you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat. It's very obvious who the cat is in this situation.

Brows furrowing you can’t face him ever again after the scalding embarrassment inhabits your abdomen.

"Going to cry, Cadet?" He's pushing all your buttons, eagerly choosing to provoke you.

The frustration you’ve been feeling fills you to the brim and you clamp down on your bottom lip. If you must turn to inflicting harm onto yourself just to muffle the sound of your whimpers you will.

“Did you need to do that?” You choke out your response feeling helpless, still not looking at him.

“Simply gave you a taste of your own medicine.”

Silence.

"Sometimes I wish you killed me back then."

Silver eyes become dark and he visibly flinches at your confession.

Still boxed in-between his arms you attempt to push past but he continues to obstruct the exit. He's not done yet.

"I gave you another chance at life." His blunt one-sided view is about to drive you crazy.

"Within my first day at this unit I had to avoid being attacked by another cadet in the forest if you call that a life I do-"

“Who?”

“Not important."

“If you know what's good for you, you'll spit it out."

For the sole purpose of irking him you heavily shake your head to emphasise your refusal to give in and name the culprit. It's not like you want Reiner to fall into trouble because of you. He hasn't shown any suspicious or out of the ordinary behaviour since then and you worry what Levi is capable of doing when given a reason to hurt someone.

Glancing at him dismissively you try to make your point again. "They haven't done anything since. Therefore, it's of no importance."

Conflicted emotions scurry over his face as he looks at you.

"It's of importance if my wif-" He growls and stops midway. His hands grip onto the desk even harder, knuckles turning white.

Was he about to say, wife?

Levi immediately realizes what he's nearly just said sounds exceedingly questionable. A look of uncertainty flashes over his face and then it seems he loses all regard for self-control. His willpower isn't enough to get him through this situation and he only amplifies.

Encroaching further into the very little space amongst the both of you his tone is icy. "Tell me." He's glowering and for Reiner's wellbeing you decide you should just come out with it now. He'll be in an even more difficult spot if you don't.

"Reiner, it was Reiner." You gasp out the answer, shallow breath ragged. Head turning away to the side you're not particularly sure why you're so shaky and why you feel a tremor flood past you inundating your movement. It may all be a combination of how close he's standing to you and how intoxicatingly strong his aura is.

Or, perhaps it's due to how he nearly referred to you as his wife during his primal outburst of anger.

He turns away. Automatically creating yet another blockade between the two of you.

"You're dismissed."

[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.